Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws of your country or district please desist. If you are a bigot or prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.
My thanks to those who have kept in touch after my previous stories. If you haven't read them yet I have listed them at the end of this first episode. Bless you all.
Flip's Tale
Chapter 5a
5A: Plans:
I talked to Aunt Margaret about my future a couple of days after she had fetched me from the school. I asked if she thought I could do medicine and become a doctor like her. Tom had already told me that was what he wanted to do as well. She was ever so pleased and said I would have to work hard but she had every confidence in me. She also said that there was a Trust Fund set up by the insurance company after dad died to pay for my education and that should help a lot.
And, so the holidays started.
Tom and I got on so well it was really as if we had never been away from each other for long periods of time. We had both grown considerably over the year and I was nearly six foot even at fifteen. Tom's growth spurt had come on line with a vengeance and he was now topping five-seven and still growing. We had both developed in other areas over the year as well. My cock was now six inches fully loaded and his was getting on for that as well. His black hairy bush above his cock was more luxurious than mine, but mine was now a bright chestnutty auburn, darker than my flaming mass of red head hair. I think we made a fine pair as we set off each day on our explorations of the country always dressed in our kilts. With my increase in height I now wore my father's kilt on alternate days.
Tom had developed a great interest in wildlife and we spent many hours watching and waiting as the creatures and birds around us got used to our motionless forms. Tom was still as horny as ever and we had a list of favourite places where we could hide away, strip off our kilts and tee shirts and spend an hour or so giving each other exquisite pleasure.
Tom's parents took us both on holiday with them to Greece for a fortnight. There I even developed a bit of a tan while Tom went really dark. He was determined to get an allover tan so while his parents had their siesta in the late morning and afternoon we, like mad dogs and Englishmen, would go off in the midday sun, loping off up the hillside after a small lunch and sunbathing nude in a secluded area. Seeing each other like that always set off our hormones and two sweaty bodies would return later to the beach to bathe the smell of boysex away. As we shared a room and a bed our love-making continued at night, often three or four times, dozing in between. As it was very hot during the day our sleepiness wasn't noticed. We could drop off under the partial shade of a large umbrella during the morning and between our bouts in the hills in the afternoons. I don't think I have ever had so much sun-kissed sex as on that holiday. Sun, sand, sea and sex with Tom. A wonderful combination.
Still Scotland wasn't so bad on our return. I'd told Tom about Simon and Richard and, just before we parted again when the new term was about to begin, he shyly broached the subject I'd wanted to talk to him about for such a long time. The afternoon before he started back at school again we were lying side by side in the secretness of a clump of trees, still tasting the residue of each other's boycream, when he leaned across me and whispered in my ear with great hesitation.
"Flip...," he began, "...Do you love me as much as I love you?"
Those were the words I wanted to hear. We may have only been fifteen but both of us knew we were made for each other.
I put my arms around him, tears running out of the corners of my eyes and all I could say was, "Oh, Tom..."
We held each other closely as I then put my own thoughts into words. I said I'd made two decisions earlier in the year. One was to study medicine and be a doctor, the other to tell him I wanted to be with him as my companion and lover in the future. That second thing I said I had wanted for such a long time. Simon's example was before me and I related all he had said about how he and Richard had decided to pledge themselves to each other but waited until both were eighteen before finally committing themselves to each other and fucking each other. I told him how happy Simon had been that afternoon when he'd told me about their now consummated relationship. I remarked that we both knew we were still very young and it would be difficult for us because, as Simon had explained to me, there were many people who didn't understand.
Tom was very quiet as I said all this and was gently stroking my arm.
"Oh, Flip," he said finally, "I've loved you from that very first day I met you. I knew before then that I only liked boys and I knew from that moment I wanted you if you would have me. That day you fucked me and I fucked you was the happiest day of my life. If you never wanted to see me again after that I would never forget you and your love. Simon waited and now he knows how much he loves Richard. We didn't wait but I know how much I love you. Please, Flip, whatever happens to us between now and when we can be together always nothing will matter, then there will be just you and me."
Oh dear, my thoughts were racing, was I old enough to make such a deep commitment? Tom was deadly serious. I knew I wanted Tom. I whispered in his ear, "I love you...., for always."
We lay in each other's arms and just enjoyed the feeling of closeness and deep love.
I think Aunt Margaret sensed there was something more than just a boyish friendship between us. I couldn't tell her yet and she didn't enquire, but she gave Tom and me every opportunity to be together. Towards the end of the holiday Tom's parents were called up to his father's parents' home as Tom's grandfather was taken seriously ill. Tom and I house sat for three days, rarely leaving the police house on the pretext that the 'phone might ring but, in reality, keeping as close together as possible. We decided not to fuck again until we both felt ready but we explored each other's bodies in a myriad ways, each so sensitive and responsive to the other's touch. We also had to make a pact that we could both have encounters with others as long as we didn't keep any secrets from each other. Especially, Tom wanted me to remain a good friend and companion to Ghazi and said he also wanted to share our love with him.
Tom had also made his plans which we discussed. He said he wanted to study medicine as well, would I mind? As if I would! When he told his parents they were very pleased he wanted to go to university and said they would support him as far as they could. It would be expensive but he was their only child but Mr McLaren had also just been promoted to Sergeant and there were further promotions in line.
Tom was so open and kind I knew I would have a faithful companion for life when the time came. I had to explain somehow to Michael and it was patently clear that he and Darryll were very close by the tone and contents of the two letters I received from him during the holiday. The second contained a photo of him and Darryll, side by side, arms round each other's shoulders, gurning idiotically at the camera on a beach - somewhere in Greece! He managed to convey that they were more than just good friends by the continual use of 'We'. I still loved Michael for being the friend who had helped me over my troubles but I was so happy he had found someone for himself. I wondered what would have happened if the four of us had met up because we had all been in Greece at the same time!
There was little news from home. I'd sent cards and letters to Stuart and he had responded in kind. He had proudly told me he came top of his class and Aunt Margaret made the comment that he was following in the footsteps of the older Menzies. I dearly wanted to see Stuart again but I still had no straightforward correspondence with my mother. She, like Simon's parents for him, had sent me a cheque for my birthday in April. The card enclosing it, thank goodness, hadn't mentioned Ray the Creep.
Of course, the death of Diana that August was a black time. I'd had a 'phone call from Paul who said his parents were going down to London for the funeral and I knew Hamed had seen the Christmas card which was amongst the great crowd displayed while we were at Linnhe. He had stood by me while I was inspecting it and smiled when I looked at him.
5B: Winter Term 1997
So my second year at Kinloch began. Aunt Margaret deposited me outside Mr McCrae's house and went in to have coffee with Mrs McCrae. Of course, there was no Simon. He'd sent me a card from Edinburgh a couple of days earlier wishing me well and said he was looking forward to his first term at medical school. No Robbie MacPherson, who had gone off for a year to Australia before going to university. Two new senior House prefects were there to see us all arrive and to control the new bugs who had, as usual, arrived the day before.
As I was standing looking at my luggage Mr McCrae came round the side of the house. Sam and Boz rushed around me wagging their tails.
"Come here, you damn dogs. Can't control them, worse than boys." He looked me up and down. "Glad you're back. A good few changes. No more Simon or Robbie, plenty of new bugs and you're in the exam year now. Quite a few others have gone too..., young Crowley's decided to pursue his Highers nearer home."
Oh, my God, why did he say that? I waited for the chop. Instant dismissal for grievous bodily harm.
He drew on his pipe. "By the way, I'm producing the school play this term..., Hamlet." He pointed the pipe at me, "You and Paul can be the gravediggers and I think I'll cast young Ghazi as the ghost of Hamlet's father, but he'll need a bit of camouflage for that.... OK?"
He knew and I marvelled again at the way schoolmasters knew so much of what was going on. This was confirmed when I asked Paul and Ghazi later if they had met Mr McCrae. They knew he'd twigged who the perpetrators were as they'd had the exact interaction with him as I'd had. I was even more convinced when, in the school library a couple of days later, I perused the dramatis personae of the play and found there, 'two clowns, grave-diggers'.
I was just about to take my bags up to the dorm when the bus arrived from the station. I waited and wasn't disappointed as soon the unmistakable sounds of Clyde's voice rang round the approach to the house. Sure enough, a trolley loaded with bags also appeared, but the biggest shock was the now slim-line Clyde who was berating his companion pushers, Hamed and Ghazi. Gone was the plumpness, gone also were the owlish spectacles. A bright, fresh- faced, taller Clyde was in full voice. Hamed and Ghazi were laughing uproariously as he stood back and let them push the final few yards.
"Goddam it, Flapso!" he called out. Then he spotted my aunt who was just emerging from the McCrae's house. "Why hallo, Dr Menzies," he said, oozing the charm of a Southern gentleman, "What d'you feed that hulking great nephew of yours on? If he came to my granddaddy's health resort he's get rid of all those spots he's got with a proper balanced diet!"
My aunt guffawed. She'd prescribed some liquid, which stung like buggery (to coin a phrase), when she found me one morning peering disconsolately into the kitchen mirror and fingering the rampant acne round my lower jaw. Trust Clyde to draw attention to my weak spot, or spots! I felt like ramming the largest object I could find right up his tailpipe! He was undeterred by the venomous look I shot at him.
"We've..." here he waved an arm expansively at Hamed and Ghazi, " ....spent eight goddam glorious weeks at my granddaddy's latest interest. He's sold his goddam hosses and bought this retirement present for himself...."
Here Ghazi and Hamed relapsed into laughter again. Clyde's language had not improved but my aunt laughed merrily as well.
He pointed an admonitory finger at Ghazi and Hamed. "These boys accompanied me and helped my granddaddy out of his great difficulty of getting good supporting staff. We have brought new life to many tired, and if I may say so, unduly surplussed, clients......."
Ghazi could stand it no longer. "Oh, shut up, Clyde, you sound like one of your granddaddy's brochures." He came over to my aunt. "Please, Dr Menzies, take no notice of him. His granddaddy put him on the strictest regime and now you see the new Clyde, contact lenses as well, but still as noisy as ever. His granddaddy says when we go there next time he's going to put him in a cage with a gag on as a prize exhibit."
His balloon pricked Clyde stayed silent while we congratulated him on his new look. He smiled and said it was all with the help of Hamed and Ghazi who had sustained him when he was so, so hungry at times. With that, Mr McCrae came out with the two dogs. They sniffed suspiciously at Clyde's legs.
"Good God!" he said, when he had taken in the sight before him. "I thought I heard the voice but who is it?" He turned to Hamed. "So, who's your svelte friend? Is it a new bug I don't know about?"
Hamed said he and Ghazi had been bugged by Clyde for the past eight weeks. Mr McCrae laughed and went off in close conversation with Aunt Margaret. I wondered if bugged was actually a shortened form of a slightly longer word as I suspected Clyde's dagger had needed sharpening during that time!
5C: The Play's the Thing:
The Winter Term sped by. The play's the thing! We hammed Hamlet up, Paul and I appearing with torn, dishevelled doublets and hose, flashing our muscles, getting a round of applause at each of the three performances. Ghazi appeared all in white and nearly brought the house down with his sepulchral delivery. Our muscle-building had progressed well during the term. The three of us had to move to the proper gym for most of our sessions as Mr McCrae was a bit worried in case we overdid things. However, Simon had left his stuff for us and we tried to have a few minutes every day, when we weren't in the gym, doing a few reps and curls in the garage. Mainly Ghazi and myself on those occasions and this did lead to several 'extra-curricular activity' sessions as well where we practised press-ups over each other's cocks. Two of the previous year's new bugs asked if they could join our group. I don't know if either wanted anything extra - perhaps they pleasured each other, but we weren't interested. - they exercised very energetically and were very pleased with even one term's results.
Six of us in dorm, excluding Clyde, where now full members of the House XV and Paul, who was growing ever faster was a reserve for the School First XV. Little Dick was shooting up and on his sixteenth birthday in November proudly announced he was now five feet eight inches tall. Paul cryptically remarked that if he grew any more he'd be eight inches elsewhere. I did note, while observing a series of Fergie's nightly wanking sessions, which always spurred me on to faster stroking, that his cock was now not only very long but was also getting thicker. I was pretty certain that Hamed and Clyde were up to no good as well. They disappeared, on the pretext of playing golf, most times Hamed wasn't required for rugger, coming back with satisfied looks on their faces and I was sure they weren't just trying out backswings and underhand grips which were a topic of much of their conversation in the dorm.
5D: Hogmanay at Linnhe and After: 1997/1998
An invitation for Hogmanay at Linnhe Castle came for all of us. The sweetest thing was that Tom was invited as well. Again, Fergie and Little Dick declined but when we arrived on New Year's Eve who should also arrive but Simon and Richard. Richard was such a nice person as well as a real hunk, just like Simon, and took over Roddy's role as the 'older brother' as he was somewhere in Germany with his regiment. Paul was bunking with Ghazi and the look on their faces each morning was as if both cats had had the cream. Tom and I were together and made the most of it. So what with Hamed and Clyde and Richard and Simon I think a good time was had by all.
Ghazi came and stayed again for Easter 1998. We celebrated our sixteenth birthdays with Tom making great play on the fact that mine on April the fifth fell on Palm Sunday. He said that ordinary lovers celebrated on St Valentine's Day but Palm Sunday was more appropriate for ardent masturbators like me. He didn't get away with that as he was palmed several times the next day by both Ghazi and me on one of our jaunts.
I have never worked so hard as over that Easter holiday. All three of us had our exams at the beginning of the Summer term. All three of us took our books and notes out each day and worked away at our various tasks. Quite a bit overlapped between us and I felt that I knew far more because of the help we'd given each other. The exams came and went and the wait for the results seem interminable.
All seven of us were staying on for the Sixth Form. Only Little Dick hadn't taken any exams but he was coming back, we were told, to prepare for entry to an agricultural college. Ghazi and Hamed spent the Summer again with Clyde at his granddaddy's health resort in the South of France. Excited 'phone calls flew around when the results were announced. Both Tom and I had done exceptionally well. Fergie astounded us as in his quiet way as he had taken further subjects and got top marks in all. Ghazi, Hamed and Clyde were well satisfied with their results. For some reason Paul came down on two of his subjects and was pretty morose about it. Still we all turned up ready for the First Year Sixth. Paul was over the moon as he was elected as Vice-Captain of the First XV. Clyde, of course, wanted to know what vice it was.
5E: First Year Sixth: September 1998
We seven no longer shared the dorm. As Sixth Formers now we were promoted to the fourth floor where Ghazi and I shared a room as did Clyde and Hamed. Fergie and Paul insisted that Little Dick should be with them so they had a separate room as their study while the three of them shared the original study-bedroom. We spent a lot of time in each others' rooms and our camaderie flourished. We never enquired about the others but Ghazi and I slept together almost every night. We had to remember to alternate beds over the week so that our sheets were equally scruffy and slept in.
I was now over six foot and Ghazi was nearly five ten so the pair of us in a single bed made for one adolescent led to many giggles as we manoeuvred ourselves into the most comfortable position. We enjoyed each other's bodies immensely and always shared everything we did. So much so that Paul one afternoon observed that if we insisted in moving the furniture around in our room at midnight would we do it more quietly as he needed his sleep next door. Needless to say we made sure the bed bumped the wall rhythmically that night.
The Sunday chapel ritual Paul and I had started two years previously had blossomed. There were always at least a dozen of our House who appeared clad in the kilt. That first Sunday there were two surprises. Clyde, who had only worn his Glaswegian tartan at Linnhe appeared resplendent in his own clan kilt as he had found the Scottish connection of his family line. The second surprise was even greater. As we marched into the chapel we were greeted with the organ thundering out. I looked to see who was playing as I expected to see Dr Baines as Nelson had gone to one of the Oxbridge colleges as an organ scholar. Oh, my! It was Little Dick! For someone for whom the square root of forty-nine was an arcane mystery to have such talent was heart-stopping. I looked at Paul and Fergie and the pride in their eyes brought tears to mine.
That year also passed rapidly. We had settled into a routine over holidays with the Campbells once again inviting all of us for Hogmanay. The big news there was that Walter the Banker and his wife, married during that Summer, had a kid on the way so Paul would be an uncle! I found out from conversation with Mr Campbell that at the wedding, to which Charles Parsons, the Sheik's secretary, had been invited, he had said Hamed's uncle was so pleased with his progress that he wanted to know what had happened. Paul had obviously not told his father the story of that Sunday night, and I didn't enlighten him, but just said I thought he'd learned very quickly to value friends. Mr Campbell said that was something you either learned quickly or not at all. True.
My seventeenth birthday during the Easter break came and went as did Ghazi's. We had some uproarious times especially with Tom being so amazed how hairy Ghazi was even at seventeen. He was developing quite a mat of very fine, very black hair on his pecs with a dense treasure trail leading to a mass of curly tufts around the base of his cock. Having also observed Hamed in the changing rooms I knew he was also going the same way but even though he was that much older than Ghazi he was both shorter and less hairy.
Where he did win was in the lengthy tool which hung between his legs. Lying in bed one night I asked Ghazi if he knew what Hamed and Clyde did. I learned then that it was true that Clyde fucked Hamed as much as possible. As we had no secrets from each other Ghazi described several encounters he'd witnessed when at the health resort. Although Clyde's cock always seemed on the shortish side, apparently it lengthened considerably as he became erect.
The Summer term exams came and went. I was determined to do well so really worked hard. I also became quite proficient at computing having Ghazi as a willing and most competent guide. We appropriated Clyde's old Mac which had lain unused in his locker ever since he's unpacked it two years before - "Goddam thing, my daddy said I was to have one - what goddam for?" Somehow Ghazi, with his newfound skills, managed to hook it up to the Internet through an unused line and we browsed some very revealing sites.
5F: Summer 1999
We all split up for the summer holiday. I took a schedule of work home as I was to go for interview at medical school early next term. I found Tom was also going the same day and consulted Simon and Richard by 'phone about what might be asked. They were quite positive that with our academic and sporting records we would both have a good chance of being accepted. Fingers crossed.
We certainly didn't keep our legs crossed that holiday. I had read somewhere that seventeen was the peak age for sexual activity. If it was it seemed no different for either Tom and I from the time we were fourteen. Probably the most different thing was that our encounters were now not just a release - the old genital sneeze - but were carefully orchestrated to give maximum pleasure. We kept a tally that summer and over the time we spent together we averaged nearly three times each every day. Tom did remark it was a reduction on his frenzied activity when he first learned the joys of wanking but said he just loved his ginger friend's horny hand curled round his massive Scottish claymore. I retaliated on three counts; cheek, lies and boastfulness. I said my hair was bright auburn, my hands weren't horny, not in the same way that he was in bodily needs, and that thing between his legs wasn't big enough to poke a Sassenach's eye out let alone decapitate him.
I shut his screams of mirth off abruptly when I then had him on his back tickling him by presenting him with my version of his favourite dish, a Clootie Dumpling. I said his mother never made anything so sweet and tasty as mine and he could suck the fruit out of it as much as he wanted. He couldn't laugh out loud as my cock was now well entrenched in his jaws and a swift turn about gave me that so-familiar taste of his own, slightly less massive, Clootie. So we spent our days until it was time to begin our last stint of boyhood.
5G: My Final Year Begins: September 1999:
Of course, we were all now to begin our final school year. At the end of last term it was announced that Paul was not only going to be Head of School but also Captain of Rugby with Hamed as his Vice-Captain. So, Paul was following in the steps of his two elder brothers and was very proud but also relieved to have such honours. Paul was also promoted to be Sergeant Major in the CCF, with Fergie as his Staff-Sergeant, which was going to be very useful when they made their bid for Officer Training. The big surprise was that Clyde was asked to be Head Boy of McCrae House. Really it wasn't a surprise. Given all the supposed brashness, the flashiness, the out-and-out Southern charm, no-one ever had a bad word for him. His tongue was sharp, he despised any appearance of superiority, but he was the sincerest friend anyone could ever have. Hamed had recognised this and the pair were inseparable.
The first day back was one of meeting old friends. As usual Aunt Margaret drove me there - or rather I drove us, as I had passed my test during that summer holiday. No sooner had I stopped the Range Rover than Boz and Sam were all over me. This meant that Mr McCrae was in the offing. Sure enough he appeared greeting Aunt Margaret effusively and pointing her towards the coffee-pot which he said he knew was ready in the house.
He eyed me up and down. "They don't get much bigger than us, do they?" he said. We were now the same height, six foot three. "Still, you did well in the exams, more to come this year, eh?" I nodded, that was praise enough from the laconic Mr McCrae. I had done well. "Anyway, school play's Macbeth this year, good choice but Paul will not be playing Macbeth, even if he is supposed to be descended from the Thane." He wagged his pipe at me. "You, Ghazi and Paul will be the three witches. Most appropriate, brewing up trouble for the wicked."
Schoolmasters never forget.
The seven of us roomed as we had the year before. I was in our room when Ghazi appeared closely followed by Hamed and Clyde. Hamed had grown a very fine moustache over the holiday and Clyde was telling him as he was now Head of House he would decide whether moustaches were allowed, but perhaps as Hamed was now a Sergeant in the CCF and still not much bigger than a four-year-old he might be allowed to keep it. All three had spent the summer at granddaddy's health resort. All three were brimming full of good health and all hugged me tightly in greeting.
"Hi, Flopso, we got a new line for the goddam extroverts," said Clyde later that evening, coming into Ghazi's and my room when he'd unpacked at least one of his many bags. "Granddaddy has extended the goddam gym so we had masses of your goddam European thirty-somethings all keen to expose their goddam pale bodies while on those goddam machines." He paused to take breath and held up a cardboard box and Ghazi dissolved into giggles. He ignored him, just shaking his head disdainfully, "Unfortunately, someone we know well underestimated their goddam general size, so, when I told my granddaddy you were a real skinny fucker he sent you a boxful of the goddam leftovers."
Knowing even disrespectful Clyde would never use such language to his granddaddy and by the side of him - the new, tall, slimline version of the old Clyde - I was rather well-built, I wondered what was in the largish cardboard box thrust at me. I opened it gingerly as Ghazi, who obviously knew its contents and was obviously the culprit, started to laugh uproariously. I grinned at the contents, about three dozen posing pouches ranging from minuscule to minute in all sorts of colours.
"You'll bloody get me arrested if I wear any of these," I said, shaking out of it's packet a satin lycra number in bright red.
Needless to say they were worn. I distributed them to our First and Second Rugby XV's and we all paraded for group photos of various dimensions after the final game of the term. It's said you need balls to play rugger. The swellings on display gave credence to one interpretation of that statement and I know a few startled parents and girlfriends received rather revealing Christmas cards that year.
Ghazi and I resumed our almost nightly adventures. That first night back he confessed he'd missed me over the summer, having to make do, as he coyly put it, with shaking hands with the unemployed, while Hamed and Clyde, according to him, were going at it hammer and tongs in the next room. He admitted he'd met a young French kid, our age, who'd been at the resort with his widowed mother, and the lad had ended up in bed with him for the last few nights of his stay. He said he now had a standing invitation to visit Toulouse at any time. I pointed out that the lad was probably spellbound by Ghazi's perpetual standing which earned me two mouthfuls of his so well-remembered boycream as a reward, as he said, for my perspicacity. After sharing the first with him I said he had plenty to lose.
A couple of weeks later I met up with Tom on the train when we went for our medical school interviews. Sweet relief - I was shitting bricks with apprehension - we were both offered places on condition of satisfactory exam grades. We stayed the night with Simon and Richard and I, flush with the money I hadn't spent from my allowance over the summer, took us all to a rather posh restaurant. What with the food and drink and lack of sleep that night because of... - what else could I blame other than Tom's insatiability, and my willingness - ...I was quite exhausted when I arrived back at school early the next evening and entered the prep room carrying my overnight bag.
Clyde was the first to greet me as he was haranguing the new bugs about the interpretation of some rule or other and clapped me on the back at the news. "Goddam it, Flipper, my granddaddy would have yo'all on the goddam payroll straightaway. Two young, handsome medics, you and that winsome Tom, in your wee skirts..."
Six foot three met five foot ten in an unholy rumble on the prep room floor watched, open- mouthed, by the gaggle of new bugs who soon realised that the heaving mass was really two great friends hugging each other. Others crowded round and I was being congratulated on all sides by all and sundry when Paul, alerted by the noise came striding in.
Being Head of School, Captain of Rugby and Sergeant Major had made Paul an object of awe for the new bugs and even for the Second and Third Years present who were trying, unsuccessfully now, to complete their prep before supper.
"What the hell!" were his opening words, only to have himself pushed aside by Hamed and Ghazi rushing into the room shouting out "What's the news?"
So, that was how I knew once again that my friends were real friends. Even more so when that night, just before lights out, the seven of us congregated in the trio's study and Paul produced a bottle of his father's malt whisky saying his father had known I'd be the first to hear good news and wanted us to celebrate it in the proper Scots way.
More good news followed fast. Both Paul and Fergie had been accepted for officer training. Ghazi heard his application for a place at a prestigious London college to study Economics was confirmed.. The strangest news was that Hamed had given up the idea of a military career. His uncle had stayed at Clyde's granddaddy's health resort and been cured of some stomach upset and was so enamoured of the place and the royal treatment he got, together with their joint interest in horses, he was proposing to help with further extensions. So, without much persuading on anybody's part, Hamed and Clyde were going to work together there - no worries about university, square-bashing or what have you.
Term work built up. Ghazi, Paul and I worked off our frustrations over maths and physics with intense workout sessions in the gym and the garage. Ghazi and I relieved our delving into our biological heritage by more intimate explorations of our own structures and functions. Paul's other duties meant that Hamed took over much of the running of the First XV. I had often envied Clyde's possession of Hamed's tightly muscled young body as his faithfulness never wavered and, other than that initial fondling of each other's young manhoods three years previously, I, nor anyone else other than Clyde, never did any more than that with him. We were good friends though and there was hardly a week which went past when we didn't give each other a brotherly hug over some triumph or other.
Fergie quietly got on with his work and looking after Little Dick's interests. I often heard them discussing music and realised this was a common bond between them. Little Dick spent more and more time in chapel playing the organ. In fact, whenever I could I would take a textbook or my notes and secrete myself in a corner while Bach, Parry, Stanford or Cesar Franck soared round my head. It was interesting that when I was sitting my Highers in the Summer Term how often a remembered fact was accompanied by the phrase of music I had heard when learning it.
5H: Paul:
The other thing which occupied quite a bit of our time was Macbeth or that bloody Scottish play as it was usually referred to because of the ill-luck that was supposed to accompany it. Three of the ugliest, largest and most evilly-attired witches opened the play and when we doubled and bubbled in Act IV there were howls of laughter as one of the new bugs, promoted to being a sorcerers' apprentice of the Harry Potter variety, but not in the hallowed script, was bodily upended into the cauldron as the final ingredient.
As it so happened the new bug was a component in one of the two contretemps Paul had to deal with in that first term of high office.
The first was when Clyde consulted him as Head Boy and me as Devil's Advocate, over a delicate situation. One of the Lower Sixth in the House had apparently been making advances towards this new bug, a blond, curly-haired lad with Cupid-bow lips, who was reputed to be hung, at thirteen and a half, like a horse. How or why, I do not know, whether through sheer ignorance or wilfulness, this child had boasted openly in the prep room that he and Antony, the Sixth Former, had decided they wanted to share a room together. This was the stuff that rumours, and more serious trouble, were made of.
When confronted, Antony Fuller said it wasn't true. Then he confessed he was infatuated with the kid and had told him he wouldn't mind sharing a room with him but maintained he had never touched him. This last bit was most probably true as we knew Antony and his cell- mate were soul-mates so he was told in no uncertain terms to definitely keep his hands to himself or to his own age-group.
The new bug was interviewed by we three, just as a precaution, Clyde laughingly said, in case he claimed he'd been raped by Paul, and given a very stern ticking-off with the injunction that it was always wise to keep one's mouth shut. The kid blubbed and admitted he was fond of Antony and was very sorry he'd got him into trouble but he couldn't help it and his best friend said he would be responsible for him if he was forgiven.
After much nodding of sage heads, faces kept tightly in stern lines but shoulders heaving, we conferred and said all was forgiven but... After that the grateful child became our shadow and we, to get him off our backs a bit, decided, with Mr McCrae's unquestioning permission, to create the role for him. Of course, we had to tell Ghazi why.
What was interesting was that while in the dressing room getting our costumes on for the dress rehearsal we were able to confirm the rumour. Little Master Christopher Phelps had a horsecock to match any of ours. Ghazi took one look and leaned confidentially over to me and opined that you couldn't do anything else but keep your mouth shut about that!
The other incident could have been very serious. A rather officious Sixth Former in another House, a corporal in the CCF, had discovered two of the Third Year cadets from our House in flagrante delicto, i.e. tossing each other off, in the back room of the CCF stores, which they were supposed to be minding at the time. He'd gone in to collect some equipment and, finding no one behind the counter, had snooped and was full of righteous Presbyterian indignation.
When Paul consulted our little group about what should be done he said half the trouble was that the two lads were in our House, and we'd thoroughly beaten the other lot in the first round of the inter-House rugger tournament, and the other half was that prissy Angus Reid was irked because he was only a corporal when daddy was a colonel and expected greater things.
It was decided that Paul and Fergie would put on a pseudo-court-martial which would mollify Angus and keep him from blabbing to the powers that be. I was roped in again and was told I could be an observer to see fair play. The courtroom was to be the trio's study so at the appointed time Paul and Fergie were seated behind the communal desk and I was perched, primly, on a chair at the side. But, what the prime actors in this drama did not know was that Ghazi, Clyde and Hamed had each acquired a lap-top computer in London after their sojourn in France and Ghazi had also equipped himself with a webcam. Somehow Ghazi had daisy- chained the computers so one, with the webcam sitting on top, was on the book case in the study and the other two were strategically placed in Ghazi's and my room connected by a wire through a convenient hole in the wall made by previous occupants. This meant a good view of the proceedings could be had by Ghazi and Hamed and highlights recorded for evidence if needed.
There was a clatter of hefty boots as the two young wankers were marched in by a straight- backed, nose in the air, Corporal Angus Reid. The three stood stiffly to attention in front of the desk, all three bulled up to the eyebrows and looking very, very smart. Angus ordered the two youngsters to remove their glengarries which they then nervously clutched in their left hands.
Paul cast a practised eye over the pair of them and must have thought they were smart enough as he then proceeded to spell out the composition of the board. While he was doing this I had a good look at the two lads who now looked very woebegone. They had even had very short haircuts in preparation for their ordeal. I knew them both having watched their progress from their entry as new bugs two years before. In fact, I'd helped one of the lads, Jamie Drummond, with maths several times and he cast a wary eye at me, but I kept a poker face as his lower jaw began to quiver. He was eminently bed-worthy, according to the points system which the Sixth-Formers always used when assessing, jocularly most of the time unless it got out of hand as with that prime prat Antony Fuller, whether they would kick a kid out of bed. His uniform fitted him well showing off a trim figure and a rounded butt, which I'd also noted had filled out his tight shorts when I'd coached the scrum for the Junior House XV match a couple of weeks previously.
The other lad, Pete Douglas, was a dark horse. I only knew him slightly as he went about the House quietly and I'd had little interaction with him. He'd opted for hockey and was the only one in his year not in the House Junior XV. Looking at him more closely I surmised that he must be well-developed for his age of fifteen. There were definite signs of an incipient moustache and the evenness of his sideburns looked as if he was already shaving quite regularly. Poor bugger, if his hormones raged like mine at that age, then sweet relief on a regular basis, even in the backroom of the stores with a buddy, was a prime necessity. If it was to be with the fresh-faced lad by his side all the more comfort.
Paul then read the charge. Worded by Angus it came out as a mishmash of Queen's Regulations as being conduct to the prejudice of good order and discipline in that the two named, Cadet Peter David Bowen Douglas and Cadet James Arthur Stewart Drummond, had been discovered in the process of performing a lewd act together, wearing the Queen's uniform, whilst on duty.
Both lads looked suitably cowed. The Head of School, Paul Adam Duncan Campbell, Captain of Rugby and Sergeant Major in the CCF together with Staff Sergeant Fergus St. Andrew Cowen and Phillip Thomas Menzies, the No.8 in the First XV, not only knew they were real wankers but also that they were helping each other in their depravity.
I don't know how Paul did it with a straight face but he began to question Angus.
"So, Corporal, were the cadets touching each other?"
"Yes, Sir."
"In what way were they touching?"
Angus began to colour. He mouthed silently, then said slowly, "Sir, they were holding each other's sexual parts."
"And which parts were they?"
Angus was clearly not expecting this interrogation. Again he seem to mutter something to himself. Then he cleared his throat.
"They were holding each other's penises, Sir."
"And in what state were their penises?"
Angus's mouth opened and shut. No sound came. I looked at Fergie who was staring ahead through half-closed eyes
"I asked, in what state were their penises, Corporal?" inquired Paul very deliberately and with quite an edge to his voice.
Angus was bright red now.
"In an erect state, Sir." The last word almost spat out.
"And in what way were they handling each other's erect penises?" asked a very composed Paul.
"Holding them, Sir," came the answer after a short pause.
"Is that all, just holding them?"
"Yes Sir, when I entered the room they must have heard me so they were just holding each other."
Paul turned to Fergie.
"Staff-Sergeant, are there any questions you wish to ask?"
Fergie nodded.
"Was there any other evidence of a lewd act having been committed?" he asked.
Angus's eyes nearly popped. He didn't reply.
Fergie continued. "You saw no evidence of an act having been completed?"
Angus breathed out. "No, Staff."
"So, they could have just been examining each other, say, looking for jockrash, or scabies, or whatever, before asking matron's advice. You didn't enquire?"
This was too much for Angus. He turned bright red and blurted out in strangled Aberdonian tones, "Those cheeky little fuckers were bloody well tossing each other off!
I should know...." He stopped on that rising phrase before anything else of an incriminatory nature was divulged.
Paul and Fergie were a picture of calm. I couldn't wait to see what the webcam had recorded or what the webcam viewers were doing at that moment. Stuffing football socks or pillows in their mouths to stop them from shrieking with laughter most probably.
Paul took over.
"Thank you Corporal for your evidence. Please would you wait outside while we take further evidence from the accused."
I stood up and opened the door. Angus turned smartly on his heels and stomped out, more loudly than necessary I felt. I closed the door and perched again.
Paul looked at the two miscreants who seemed ready to wet themselves.
"What have you to say for yourselves? Anything?"
He fixed his gaze on the bubble-butted one, young Jamie.
"Please Sir, we weren't wearing the Queen's uniform," he said, his voice faltering at the end.
Paul raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"No, Sir, we'd taken our uniforms off." A little note of confidence appeared here.
Straight-faced Paul looked at the other one and raised his eyebrow again. I guessed if he'd opened his mouth he would have collapsed.
"Please Sir," the lad said, his post-pubescent voice a pleasant tenor, but quavering a bit, "We weren't really on duty. It wasn't our turn but Sergeant asked us to mind the store while he went and had a ciggie...." He stopped, having dropped our friend Freddie Turner right in the shit as the school had a strict no-smoking policy for pupils which was obeyed somewhat.
Paul looked from one to the other. Bubble-butt had relapsed, he had the beginnings of a quiver by the side of his mouth and looked really worried. The other had pursed his lips and was standing eyes cast down. Paul whispered to Fergie but I couldn't catch what he said. Fergie nodded when he'd finished, then Paul delivered the judgment in a clipped and forceful manner.
"Right, look up and stand to attention!" Two bodies jerked and stood even more stiffly, I think almost too frightened to breathe. "Your punishment is to have that store and backroom in such a state of cleanliness that your father's ghillie..." He pointed at the saturnine one. "...could cast a fly without disturbing a mote of dust. I'll inspect it with Phillip and Staff Sergeant Cowen tomorrow at eighteen hundred hours." He paused to let that sink in. Then, in a quieter voice but still with an edge of steel, he went on, "Now. A word of advice. We in this room have no interest in what you do in your spare time but there are two rules if you can't keep your hands to yourselves. Firstly, don't be caught..., secondly, if you are, make sure it's not Corporal Reid. And just remember..., always keep a civil tongue in your head..., and the key to the backroom to the stores is the third one from the left on the rack! Dismiss!"
Both mouths were wide open as they automatically remembered to turn to the right. I leapt up and opened the door as heads held high they marched out and down the corridor.
Paul called Corporal Reid in. He told him the judgment, also that the matter was closed and he wanted no discussion of this distasteful aspect of Cadet business outside this room. He didn't mention the bit about his advice or where the key was. Reid looked pleased, the straitlaced sod. He said that he had not discussed the matter with anyone nor would he, as ordered. God! it was my bounden duty to dish the dirt on him if I could find any! He was dismissed and marched away, clattering down the stairs. I closed the door and looked at Paul.
"Want a wank, my old mates?" he said in the unmistakable Aberdeen accent of priggy Reid and for the benefit of our unseen viewers and listeners.
The door burst open and Hamed and Ghazi rushed in cackling like maniacs.
I said quietly to Paul and Fergie, shaking my head, "I don't know how you did that, but I take my hat off to you."
We all agreed that Paul and Fergie had averted a real disaster. Angus couldn't say another word having more or less admitted he'd had experience of joint jacking off sessions, in any case his embarrassment had been mitigated by the level of punishment meted out so he would be satisfied on that count. Two lads had learned a salutary lesson and would be eternally grateful to the senior members of the House. We also had a record of a most interesting half-hour which we sat and watched with Clyde, chuckling at Angus's discomfort during the interrogation. However, level-headed Clyde made Ghazi erase the recording after we'd seen it. That chapter in the life of the House was most definitely going to be closed and stay shut.
To be continued:
Other stories you might be interested to read are: Spying on My Brothers: Incest Section: May 2000 Easter Rugger Tours and after: H/S Section: Jun 2000 Jordan's Story: H/S Section: July 2000
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