MY SECRET DIARY
By Brian (13 yo), or nearly
Chapter 1
"Getting to Know You"
I have just met a nice man on the Net, and for reasons of security I will call him Steve, instead of his real name.
In my first email I told him how excited I get when wrestling with the other kids, and sometimes feel things you're not supposed to feel.
So when he replied and said that he had known many boys and had been able to help them, I thought of writing a secret diary to record my development in what the grown-ups call "puberty". If Steve wants I will send him copies as the diary expands.
At School on Monday there was a new Physical Education student teacher named Peter and as soon as we met over lunch in the canteen, I had a funny - and pleasurable - feeling of excitement in my tummy, as I could see that he was interested in me and some cool things were going to happen.
We had some conversation, although I was very nervous. When he said that he wanted to introduce some wrestling into the curriculum, as an extra subject for those boys who liked it, I became quite excited.
The delicious feeling in my stomach grew stronger as I fantasised about wrestling with him in the gym. Although five years older he was not much heavier than me and was lightly built and slim - and very very handsome, with twinkling blue eyes and friendly red lips, which I imagined as a climax to getting him in a wrestling hold where he could not resist when I pressed down on him.
I am tall and strong for my age and know quite a lot of wrestling holds (some of them which are barred!), which I learned in schoolboy rough and tumbles (some of them quite violent) behind the cricket pavilion, or on the banks of the Midland Canal which runs by St.Sebastian's College - which is where I go to school.
I could see that Peter was getting a bit annoyed, when he said, "Don't keep calling me `Sir', Bryan".
I replied, "Yes Sir, Sorry Sir, I mean Yes Peter. I like your idea of voluntary wrestling classes and practice sessions, but there are not many in the twelve year old group who would be interested".
"Well Bryan, we need not limit ourselves to your age range. Older and younger kids will be welcome, and after we have done some demonstrations in front of the whole school the resulting publicity will encourage more would-be wrestlers to turn up for lessons".
I replied "I know several of the boys who like wrestling and have mainly friendly contests with them, whenever there is the chance. Let's see, there is little Tim, only eleven, but wiry and cunning. He's even managed to beat me a few times in the last year. And then there's Charlie, he's my age, but smaller. Once, by the canal, he got me in an Indian Death Lock, and not wanting to die I stopped struggling to escape, but he refused to let me go, and continued to squash me down into the grass for at least half an hour. When he finally released me I felt like a very flat pancake!"
By now I was really excited and interested in the project, particularly because Peter was so friendly and obviously loved my favourite sport, so I said, "Peter, what day and time do you want me and my friends to meet you in the gym" and, greatly daring, "Can I wrestle with you Sir"?
"Of course, Brian, later you I will have a No Holds Barred (NHB) submission contest. As far as the date and time are concerned can you get your friends to assemble in the gym at 3.45 to-day, after school is over. They should bring their gym shorts and vests, but wrestling shoes are not necessary, and in any case would be too expensive for most people".
I finished lunch as quickly as I could and rushed off in search of my wrestling cronies (including some older ones) to invite them to attend the inaugural meeting.
I couldn't wait for the interminable lessons to finish, but eventually the last bell sounded, and I dashed to my locker to find my gym stuff. Peter was already there and gave me a great big glorious grin, as if he knew of the anticipation I was feeling.
By 4.00 pm a group of 8 boys had assembled in the gym, all dressed in shorts and athletic vests. Peter soon explained his proposals for this extra curricular sport. He admitted that his experience was limited, and said he was willing to learn from his young charges, as well as teaching them a thing or two.
The new teacher showed some fairly standard take downs and holds, but I was upset that he chose Richard, an eighteen year old, for his demonstration partner.
However as I became more and more disappointed, and the hands on the gym clock moved inexorably towards 4.30 pm (the agreed time for finishing) Peter, with a twinkle in his eye, turned to me and said
"Now I will ask my new pal Bryan to try and hold me using any hold that he wants, even the forbidden ones".
My heart fluttered violently. This was what I had been hoping for, and I determined to put my very best neck scissors (for which I was feared by some of the boys) on Peter and force him to submit in spite of his age and extra weight, and the fact that he was a teacher (albeit a student teacher).
"Where do you want me, Bryan?"
"Lie on your back, Peter, and raise your head and left arm, slightly".
Peter complied, and I lay with my hips near his left shoulder and insinuated my left thigh beneath his neck and swung my right leg to a position where my right thigh was resting on top if his neck. To complete this deadly hold I stretched both my legs and twisted my ankles tightly together, not forgetting in the process to trap his right arm above his head.
So, although his legs were free, the whole upper part of his body was in my control, and both my arms were free to excercise any necessary balancing of my body whilst he struggled.
"There you are, Peter", I chortled. "You're trussed up like a chicken, and the only way you can escape is by submitting".
There were one or two special things that I had discovered for myself, whilst scrapping with the other kids on the grass of the canal bank. The first was that I could use my right knee bone to exert pressure on his carotid artery, thus reducing the blood supply to his brain, and at the same time, by squeezing my thighs together round his neck, I could largely cut off his air supply.
However I was very careful not to apply too much pressure, because if I did the victim of this deadly hold would gradually go into a coma, and eventually die, from the combined effects of loss of blood to the brain and oxygen starvation.
Peter soon replied to my previous question: "I don't care how long you hold me, Brian, but I'll never give in", and with that he began to struggle violently.
This titanic contest went on for so long that Peter's struggles were tiring me out, and fearing that he might escape I decided to use one of my secret weapons and pushed my right knee against his artery. Gradually Peter's struggles got weaker and weaker, but when his face went blueish in colour, I released the pressure of my knee, but maintained my control over his breathing.
By this time the hold had been on for so long that the other kids had got bored with watching and gone home for their teas.
"Give in, Sir" I demanded, releasing the pressure so that he would have enough air to reply.
"Look", said Peter, "If I don't go now I will miss my landlady's high tea, so please let me go Bryan".
"Oh No!", I replied, "We'll keep to our agreement. If you want me to release you, just say "I give in".
"Never!" muttered Peter, beginninh to look really angry. "But you wait till I get you in one of my favourite holds. Then I'll squash you within an inch of your life."
I give now an extract from Peter's own diary, in which he described his own emotions and feelings during this mammoth fight.
This is my first student teacher's post, and I have already made friends with a fantastic twelve year old kid, named Bryan, who is mad about wrestling. I decided to set up an extra curricular Wrestling Club, and invited him to bring his friends to the gym for a training and practise session, at 4.00, after school was closed.
Bryan is fantastically good looking, with long slender legs and thighs, long blonde hair and bursting with youthful enthusiasm and vitality. He looks much older than his age, and is not much shorter and lighter than I am at 18 yo.
As I watched him practising with his buddies I felt a stronger and stronger urge to wrestle with him, down on the mat.
In order to demonstrate various take-downs to the kids, I selected the oldest one, named Toger, to assist me. After a few minutes of demonstrations I noticed that Peter's usually bright smile was gone, and he appeared really down in the dumps.
I guess he felt left out, so to round off the evening's session, I told him to put a hold on me and try to keep me down. He brightened up at once, and not dreaming of what I was letting myself in for I let him put a scissors hold with his thighs, round my neck, and just under my chin.
I had been expecting to easily escape, but no matter how I struggled, and threshed about on my back he maintained the grip remorselessly. It became clear that resisting my titanic struggles was beginning to wear him out, but he tightened the deadly and immovable scissors round my poor, bruised neck. My blood and oxygen supplies were gradually being cut down, and I felt myself going into a not unpleasant dreamy state.
When I asked him to release me to go for my landladies' high tea, he said "Only if you submit". This made me very angry because of the shame at being held so ignominiously by a mere schoolboy. However, I was also enjoying the sensual feel of his smooth bare thighs pressed so tightly round my neck, and I began to experience a tingling in my crotch. It was not long before I felt something stirring beneath his own, and I knew then that he was getting sexually stimulated, just like myself.
************************ (End of extract from Peter's diary)
This was the best and longest hold I had ever put on anybody, and I could feel a warm glow in my stomach as my willy got firmer and firmer, and I couldn't avoid pressing it down against his face.
Now my willy was as hard as a rock, and the warm glow in my stomach was concentrating itself in my balls. The urge to press again and again againt his face was irrisistible, even though he was obviously at his last gasp.
As my excitement reached a paroxism of sexual tension, I began to push with my hips, faster and faster, and deeper and deeper, until my last orgasmic thrust produced a groan from his poor defenceless face, and my iron hard willy overflowed with an ecstasy that will always remain in my memory.
We both knew what had happened, and that we accepted each other's sexuality, whatever society might think.
As I was might weary after this forty minute hold, I said, "There's no need to give in, Peter. Let's call it a draw, but I bet you'll never be able to hold me so long".
And so ended this gargantuan erotic fight, which was the first of many to be staged with us two and our friends, in the future.
Chapter 2 "The Kiss"
After my fantastic erotic experiences with my new best friend Peter I went to bed in a haze of gorgeous memories, and spent half the night experiencing them again in my dreams.
The next morning, at breakfast, my dad seemed depressed and silent. However, after a lot of coaxing, mother finally got him to speak,
"I have been made redundant, and unless I can get some more income, we'll have to lose this house, and that will be the end of us."
With my mind still filled with thoughts about Peter, I suddenly had an idea.
"Why don't we take in a lodger". There is a new student teacher at St.Sebastian's and he's not happy with his present digs, and is looking for an alternative. If we offer him lodgings at a reduced price, I'm sure that we will move in".
"But we don't have a spare room" said father.
"No problem there", I responded. "My room's a double and has two beds, and I don't mind sharing it with him to help out the family". However I didn't fail the see the erotic possibilities that would certainly arrise, if he moved into my room.
My parents were overjoyed to hear my suggestion, and told me to ask Peter if he was interested to share my bedroom. I was certain that he also, would see the romantic possibilities.
After a dull morning I met Peter for lunch in the College Canteen, and told him of my suggestion.
"I think it is a smashing idea, especially as I shall be sharing your room". He winked at me conspiratorially.
"When can you move in"?
"Well, I suggest that you bring your wrestlers to the banks of the Tarn Canal after school, where we can swim, as it's such a warm day. After that we can do some rough and tumble wrestling on the grassy bank. After that, and this time I'm going to squash you flatter than a pancake, you can help me carry my cases to your house, that is if you can still walk after I've paid you back for what you did to me yesterday in the gym".
At the thought of being beaten up by Peter, my stomach began to glow with anticipation, and I resolved to make it easy for him to get a hold on me, and I hoped that it would be a long one, but not so long as to delay him moving into my bedroom.
The afternoon lessons seemed to pass very slowly, and I didn't learn much, as I kept thinking of what rapturous hold Peter would put on me. Imagine my frustration when we were told to stay in for half an hour after the final bell.
Finally I was released, and ran as fast as I could to the canal bank, to find that the lads had already finished their swim, and begun a threesome rough and tumble, still wearing their swimming trunks. It was clear that Tim and Charlie had conspired together, and actually managed to completely truss up the much bigger and heavier Peter, who could hardly move an inch in any direction.
Just to watch these three sun tanned bodies entwined together on the cool sweet smelling turf, was erotic in the extreme, but I felt very frustrated at being left out, and possibly not getting my fight with Peter.
"Give in, Give in, Sir" they kept hissing into his ear. "If you refuse we'll go on squashing you until the cows come home".
Peter was obviously very happy at being held down by such sensuous wrestlers, but could see me sitting disconsolately nearby. He wanted to get his own back for the beating I had given him yesterday, and so said,
"OK lads, On this occasion I will give in, because I want to have a go at young Bryan, who has promised to let me put any hold I like on him. as I did to him yesterday".
"Oh! Sir", said the lads in disappointed tones. "We were enjoying ourselves, and you've only been under us for fifteen minute". So they rolled off him, and started a furious fight between the two of them, in which Charlie (the bigger one) soon managed to force Tim on to his tummy. Then Charlie lay flat on top of him and wrapped his ankles round and under those of Tim. Having secured the lads lower area he just managed to secure a double nelson on both of Tim's arms. In fact the hold was so expertly and strongly applied, that there was very little movement possible on the part of the under guy.
However, although it was nice to watch them, and wonder if there would be any erotic developments, I was anxious to get to holds with Peter, and said,
"How do you want me, Pete?"
"Oh! This will be a very simple grip", he replied, "Not like the one you had on me yesterday. It will be in two parts, the first part to get you exhausted, and the second part to crush you until you are forced to submit. So lie on your back with arms above your head".
Feeling very excited, I did exactly as I was told.
Peter immediately put me in a classic schoolboy pin, in which he sat on me with his knees either side of my chest, and ankles tucked underneath my butt. Having taken up that position he used a deadly barred Chinese finger and wrist hold, which effectively prevented any arm movement at all on my part.
Now it began to get sensual as Peter moved slightly back, so that his bum was pressing down directly on to my crotch, the contents of which were already getting aroused. Now he lifted himself slightly, and came down again with more pressure on to my willy. As he did this several times, I was sure that he could feel my erect member through the thin materials of his swimming shorts. This was getting really cool, but I began to wonder what "Part Two" of the hold would be.
"Give in", said Peter.
"Never", I gasped.
"OK. Some more of this, then, and when you are nicely weakened, I will apply the 'coup de gras', and that will really finish you off. So he continued the up and down movements so that his whole weight was on and off my crotch.
Even in the midst of my helpless position and increasing pleasure I was able to take a quick glance at the other two kids. From where I was, flat on my back, it was difficult to see Tim at all, because he was pressed do far down into the long grass. It was obvious that Charlie was enjoying himself and attempting to thrust his prisoner ever deeper into the sword.
However, back to Peter, who had evidently decided to apply Part Two of his hold. To do this, he removed his feet from under my hips and moved his knees to the outside of mine, with each of his ankles immovably twisted round one of mine. His whole body was now on top of me, and his crotch was exactly over mine, and I could feel his fully erect member pressing down on mine through my shorts.
"Now this is Part Two", he chortled. "It's your last chance to give in and if you don't take it I'll squash you so deep you'll end up in Australia".
I said nothing, but could feel the sensuous contact of his bare skin, as if it was glued to mine. Although by this time thoroughly weakened, I certainly had no intention of giving in just when the most erotic part of the fight was beginning. Obviously in order to lengthen his pleasure, before the inevitable climax, he began very slowly and gently to press up and down against my crotch and helpless but stiff and welcoming prick.
The joy that I experienced was incredible and I wondered how long it would be before one of us reached an orgasm, preferably both at the same time.
As time passed Peter's thrusts became faster, and stronger and deeper and I could hear him puffing with the exertion he was putting in.
All the pleasurable feeling in my body were now concentrated in my willy, which had fully extended to equal even Peter's monster.
The slow gentle shoving was now definitely out, as Peter grunted stertorously at the end of each mighty pelvic thrust. I knew that he could no more stop now, than an express train at one hundred miles an hour.
As I felt myself turning into a very thin pancake, Peter retained just enough self control to bring his head down and crush my lips with his own, whilst forcing his tongue half way down my throat.
As his last mighty deep thrust occurred I almost swooned with ecstasy and could feel both my own and Peter's pricks give up their exquisite juices at the exact same time.We lay there, quite motionless, whilst our breathing gradually returned to normal, and we gently disconnected our respective limbs from each other.
After the exertions of wrestling, and carrying his things to my parents' house, Peter and I enjoyed one of mother's sumptuous high teas, and then retired early to what was now "our" bedroom.
Lying in bed I my mind raced through all the events of the day, and I was mainly conscious of two things: humiliation at being flattened fo so long into the grass by Peter, and pleasure at the erotic side and the deep French kiss, which seemed to seal our love for each other.
As these thoughts churned through my mind, I knew that in order to complete the day's activities, and to restore my "esprit de corps" I must first crush Peter deep into his bed, as he had crushed me for so long into the fragrant grass of the canal bank; and secondly I must return his kiss, but this time from on top!
Being an impetuous young creature I whispered to him, across the darkened room, "Can I come over for a nice cuddly time?"
There was a slight pause and then I half heard, half saw, his duvet being lifted up to make room for me by his side.
Silently I crept across the room, and then suddenly pulling off the remaining bed clothes I leaped on the recumbant Peter with such force that the air was whooshed out of him, and before he could draw breath and recover from this unprovoked attack I was on top, using Part Two of his canal side hold, but with an improvement worked out by myself. This time it was face to face and crutch over crutch again, but with both my legs between his in the "Missionary Position" and my ankles immovably twisted round his from the inside.
This took care of the lower part of his body, but for the top half I thought that a simple embrace, combined with a choke hold, would keep him under control whilst I repaid him for the humiliation he had heaped on me earlier in the day.
"Oh! Bryan" moaned Peter, as soon as he could get his breath back, "That was'nt fair. You said you were coming over for a nice gentle cuddle, and then launched this unprovoked attack on your best friend".
"Yes, and I'm not finished with you yet" I chuckled. "You squashed me this afternoon for at least thirty minutes, and even if I had given in, you were enjoying yourself so much that you would never have stopped, until you were satisfied. Now don't deny it!"
"But Bryan", remonstrated Peter, "this noise will wake your parents, so you'd better let me go at once, or I'll be tramping the streets all night long, looking for some more digs".
"Don't worry about that" I replied, "this room is in the attic, and I know from experience that sounds cannot penetrate to lower floors. So you'd better take your punishment like a man, even though you're receiving it from a boy!"
Poor old Pete tried desperately to escape, but his efforts only got him ever deeper into the sheets and duvets.
"The more you struggle, the more I'll crush you", I warned. "The best think you can do is to lie quietly while I give you the squashing of your life, and if you behave your self I'll give you a lovely big kiss at the end, when I'm satisfied"
He must have taken my remarks seriously, because he did quieten down and allow me to give him the "squash of a lifetime".
First I tightened all my holds, one by one, until in an agonised voice he implored me "No! No! Bryan, not any tighter Bryan, please, please!"
Then I licked his nose and ran my tongue gently round the outside of his lips. This I felt sure would get him in the mood for a little erotic behaviour, and I would reserve the full French kiss for the climax of the operation.
Having got him into such a helpless position I decided to slow up the whole squashing process, so that the joy would last longer. This needed tight self-control, as my willy was already fully charged and pressing down on Peter's
So I thrust downward very slowly and carefully against his defenceless organ and after a few strokes was gratified to hear a little moan of pleasure from my totally trussed up prisoner. It was clear that his awakening sexual pleasure was overcoming the pain from the holds which I still rigorously applied.
I very gradually allowed the speed of my thrusts to increase, and at the same time increased the depth and power of each movement.
My emotional and erotic pleasure was now increasing at a fast rate, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I was approaching the "control barrier", beyond which my instincts would take over, until my orgasm arrived.
In a way I felt sorry for Peter, so humiliated, so totally under the control of my various imoveable locks and remorseless crushing, and as I heard him groan again and again, I did'nt know whether they were groans of pain or of pleasure, or of both.
Now, at long last, as the sky outside began to lighten with the approaching dawn, the time for maximum thrusting had arrived, and as the last vestiges of my self-control disappeared a feeling of indesribable rapture permeated every fybril of my body, and I hoped that Peter would survive the awesome pressure I was applying, and not reject me as a selfish friend who took too much.
The moment for the kiss to repay Peter's was here, and as my final monstrous deep, impossible to resist, thrust took place, I locked my lips round Peter's, pushing his head back and down and down into the yielding pillows. As I forced my tongue to the very back of his throat, I felt the whole of his body quiver and tremble with ultimate joy, and acceptance of my permanent and undying love, which I knew would continue, even beyond the grave.
Thus ended the first night of my lover's sojourn in my parent's digs.
MY SECRET DIARY
by Bryan
Chapter 3 "The School Bully"
The last few days have been superb - wrestling on the sweet-smelling grass of the canal bank - embraces and erotic fights in the bedroom, and Peter's life and mine were opening up.
But I suppose that pleasure can only exist by reason of the existence of the opposite - displeasure and pain (both physical and mental).
Yesterday a new boy arrived, and I soon found his name from the Burser's Office. It was Saleh Abdurab Buckshan bin Beihani, from Saudi Arabia. Rumour has it that he is the son of a fabulously rich Oil Sheik.
When I saw him for the first time with my own eyes, I was almost overcome with the beauty of his figure, his innocent charm, his curly hair and welcoming smile - and a host of other attractions. I could not help myself from fantasizing about wrestling with him on the canal bank and getting into a luscious grip, which went on and on until one of us submitted.
Determined to get to know him, I followed him into the canteen and sat at his table.
"Hello Saleh" I said in my friendliest voice "Welcome to St.Sebastian's. I hope that you will be happy here, and join our little wrestling squad".
He seemed overjoyed that someone had spoken to him, and we had a long chat, in which he explained that he had never been to school, but had had a British private tutor, until he reached his present age of fourteen.
"Oh! I'm so homesick" he said, in a low voice, close to tears.
"Don't you worry about anything" I said firmly and encouragingly "I will look after you, even though you are two years older than me"
From then on Saleh might have gradually gained in confidence, if it had not been for the notorious and infamous school bully, named Gilles.
This nasty piece of work, who had the appropriate surname of Buggins, was well known to the staff, as well as the pupils as a merciless bully, but the teachers were powerless to take action, because Sir George, the boy's father was a nouveaux riche arms manufacturer, who was going to donate more than half of the cost ofthe magnificent new gymnasium, then under construction, and the Headmaster had decreed, on pain of dismissal that the staff should "lay off" the bully, in case he complained to his rich farther
Gillles had an eye for small pretty boys and got a lot of satisfaction out of taunting and provoking them. He is eighteen years old, five feet ten inches tall and one hundred and forty five pounds in weight and immensely strong.
Today he approached the canteen in his usual truculent manner and stopped at the entrance and surveyed the scene to see if there was any kid he might harass. Seeing Saleh sitting next to me, Gilles was hooked at once, came straight over, looked directly at the pale skinned Arab boy and snarled:
"We don't want any blacks in this school. You'd better get lost before I take further action."
Poor little inexperienced Saleh thought that he was being addressed by a teacher, but nevertheless replied:
"I'm sorry if my color offends you, Sir, but Muslims are at least the equal of Nasranis". (Christians)
"Is that so" shouted Gilles," you little black pip-squeak, I'll soon show you who's superior".
It looked to me as if the bullying was about to begin here and now, but when Gilles looked round and saw several teachers watching him, he held back for the moment, telling his cronies to bring the new boy after school to the infamous unofficial fighting ground behind the Cricket Pavilion.
Guessing what was in store for Saleh, I thought that it was time to show this monster Gilles that Saleh had at least one friend prepared to help him in his hour of need.
"Look here Gilles, I may be younger and smaller and weaker than you, but if you touch this new kid or abuse him any way, you'll have me to answer for it".
"Ha! Ha!" chortled the other, "I could finish you off in five minutes, if I wanted! Bring your new pretty friend behind the Pavillion when school's out, and I'll show both of you who is really in charge". (He was well aware of his father's influence on the Headmaster.
I had a very anxious afternoon, but my class was held in at four o clock. When I finally escaped and ran at full speed to the Pavillion, I saw that my worst fears had been realized for the powerful Gilles had already applied a deadly figure four leg scissors round Saleh's slender waist. The poor kid was writhing in agony as the bully remorsely increased the pressure, regardless of the cries of agony emanating from the new boy.
My feelings exploded in a fury of anger and I strode up to the entwined couple on the grass and wrenched Gilles' wrists from their grip round the younger boy's throat. At the same time I directed a tremendous kick directly at the monster's ghoolies. The sudden pain of this forced him to temporarily release the new boy from the punishing hold.
As Saleh, choking and sobbing, with tears running down his face, stumbled to his feet, I whispered "Run quickly to the Headmaster's office, and I'll try and keep this monster occupied until you get there".
As Saleh ran off I knew that I was in for major trouble with Gilles who turned to me with a cynical air and said:
"Now little twelve year old Bryan, this is it as far as you are concerned. Either bring your little friend back here at once or I'll make you wish you'd never been born - and then some".
"Go to hell" I responded, knowing that against his much superior weight and strength I had no possible chance.
Even before I could prepare a defensive posture Gilles leaped on my back, and wrestled me to a position lying on my tummy. He lay flat on my back, applied a cruel double nelson to my arms, and twisted his ankles round mine, meanwhile stretching himself out and pressing down on my bum.
I knew that I was totally vanquished, and as he squashed my face deeper and deeper into the grass, in order to save worse punishment, I cried out:
"Submit. Submit. Submit. You're breaking my arms."
"You can't get away with it like that" he replied in a vicious tone of voice. "Now I'm going to take my satisfaction, what ever you may say. Lie quietly and stop struggling or it'll be the worst for you".
Then he began to thrust down on me with his buttocks, harder and harder, and as consciousness began to slip away I suddenly remembered the pair of moonstone mood rings which I had bought the day before for Peter and myself. Realizing that there was no other hope, I just managed to rub the ring with my forefinger, before swooning.
Gilles didn't care whether I had swooned or not, and his normally handsome face was contorted with an animal snarl as he plunged up and down on my back.
Here is an extract from Peter's diary:
My sweet darling little Bryan us each a moonstone ring, and rubbed them together as a symbol of our eternal love and friendship. He said
"If either of us is in desperate trouble, these rings will communicate between us".
Bryan had told me about the lonely new boy Saleh, and I knew Bryan was worried about the prospect of Saleh being bullied. I had heard about the school bully Gilles, and his gang of henchmen, who called themselves "The Sloggers", and I determined to keep my eyes open.
Soon after four o clock my index finger began to feel warm, and then start to throb, as as I glanced at the moonstone, I was amazed to see that it had turned bright scarlet.
I knew at once that Bryan was in serious trouble and I dashed across the cricket pitch in the direction of the canal, but as I did so shooting pains developed in my finger, and I realized that I was going the wrong way, and as soon as I reversed my direction towards the Pavillion, the pain subsided.
As I rounded the corner of the building I was shocked to see Bryan lying complete motionless on his tummy, with Gilles on top, repeatedly crushing and re-crushing him into the turf. Meanwhile the Gilles henchmen were enjoying themselves watching this cruel display.
Immediately, I shouted in my loudest and most commanding voice "STOP AT ONCE", but this had not the slightest effect, especially as Gilles was approaching an erotic climax, at the expense of Bryan".
So I rushed up to the monster, and using all my strength gave him a bare knuckle blow right on the tip of his nose.
This forced Gilles to release Bryan who staggered to his feet. I said to him" Go as quickly as you can (he was obviously too weak to run) to the Headmaster and tell him to call the Police
Now I was quite alone with the fury and hatred of Gilles and his gang, as they began to close threateningly around me, regardless of the fact that I was a teacher.
In a hideous tone of voice Gilles grated:
"Nobody humiliates me in front of my gang and gets away with it. Do you think that because you have some wrestling skills, you can beat the biggest and strongest boy in the school? Come here and I'll give you a pasting that you will remember for the rest of your life - and that may not be for long!"
There was no escape and I began to desperately search my mind for a hold that would have enough leverage to enable me to control this creature.
It was a great mistake to stand still, even for a moment and Gilles's instant attack dragged me to the ground, but at the last minute, when I thought that all was lost, I just managed to secure a figure four scissors to the boy's neck, similar to the one that Bryan applied to me a day or two ago. The difference between mine and Bryan's hold was that in my case Gilles's arms were free, and I could feel his hands searching for my windpipe.
To remove this out of reach I moved forward, facing towards his feet, so that I was lying on his face, with my head above his crotch, grabbing one of his legs, and my other arm reserved for balancing me when he struggled to break my hold.
Gilles struggled like a maniac, cursing and swearing and threatening to snuff me out when he got free. I could see that he had lost all control of his actions, and I would have to wear him down, so that when I did eventually release him he would be too exhausted to carry out his threat.
To do this I decided to reduce his air supply by pressing down strongly on his mouth with my crotch. A long time passed and as his struggles got weaker and weaker I thought to myself that I had really got him in an erotic hold. Why should I not enjoy myself at the expense of this bastard who nearly killed my best friend, Bryan.
Suiting the action to the thought, I said out loud:
"Now I'll give you just one opportunity to give in, failing which I'm going to punish you for your atrocious bullying". Secretly I hoped that he would refuse to submit thus giving me the opportunity for a little fun, at the expense of his face.
Gilles muttered "No! I'll never give in, no matter what punishment you give me."
"Do you realize that this is your last chance?" I said.
He mad no reply, and as I began to look forward to my coming pleasure I could feel my willy begin to expand where it was lying in the groove between his face and his nose and across his mouth.
To speed up my erection I began gently to rub my willy back and forth until it had soon reached my standard eight inches. My stomach was now infused with a warm glow, and the lack of struggles from my prisoner made me think that perhaps he too was enjoying this unusual experience.
I decided to increase the down and along rubbing by starting a thrusting motion with my hips. With each thrust I heard the lad underneath give a little groan, was it of pain, of pleasure, or a mixture of both? Also I could not help thinking that it would be nice to get Bryan in this way, or with him on top of my face.
To his henchmen the site of Gilles's utter humiliation was just too much, and by now they had slunk away.
I could feel the old familiar tingle spreading in my prick, and as I rubbed it faster and faster and more and more strongly against my groaning prisoner's face I could feel an ecstasy produced by my last mighty thrust, and a great groan from Gilles. At least I thought that he had paid in some small measure for his horrific bullying.
(End of extract from Peter's diary, and return to Bryan's diary.
Convinced that Peter had saved my life I limped as fast as I could to the Headmaster's study, and was horrified to see Saleh just leaving, shuddering and crying his heart out. It was clear that he had received no support from the Headmaster. Saleh turned to me and said
"He wouldn't even let me phone my father at the Embassy in London"
I realized in a flash that the poor Arab kid was being sacrificed on the alter of the new gymnasium which was to be largely financed by the bully's father, Sir George Buggins.
"We'll see about that" I said angrily. This country is not yet a Police State and there are other telephones. Come with me Saleh, and you can ring your father from my dad's telephone. But first we must go and see what has happened to Peter" We eventually tracked him down in the Teachers' Common Room, where he was describing the horrible behavior of Gilles, and trying to enlist some support from his fellow teachers.
He invited us both in and we explained what had happened and that Gilles was going to get away with his ghoulish behavior yet again. Indeed even though he had been so thoroughly beaten by Peter, Gilles was going round the school threatening all and sundry with action by his father.
After leaving the Common Room, Peter and Saleh and I returned quickly to my home, where there was not only a telephone, but an email and Internet connection. Peter quickly got through to the Saudi Embassy in London, and it was good luck that Saleh's father, Prince Hakiim Beihani, was in. The Prince heard with horror of the events of the day, and promised to visit the school that very evening to provide support for Saleh, regarding the failure of the Headmaster to help him in any way.
We had a wonderful high tea and each received a tot of brandy (two for Peter). Dad tried to persuade Saleh to stay the night, but the boy is spunky and refused to alter his behavior because of threats from the Gilles creature.
So we all marched back to St.Sebastian's, and as we rounded the sweeping drive, there in front of us was a fleet of vehicles including a Rolls Royce, a Mercedes and a Cadilac.
All lights were on in the school buildings, and we wondered what on earth was going on, especially as there were also two Police Jaguars and a dozen officers posted at strategic locations in the grounds.
As we approached the admin building Saleh gave a sudden cry of delight and dashed up to his father who embraced him passionately.
"Dad! What's going on?"
"Don't worry Saleh, I've fixed things so that the corrupt Headmaster, and evil bullyboy Gilles will never get their way again - at least not while I am the new owner of the school".
Just at that moment the now dismissed Head, looking quite woebegone appeared at the main entrance with a suitcase, and by his side was Gilles and several of his worst accomplices, all of them carrying their personal effects.
And so, on this occasion at least, good triumphed over evil. The three youngsters had passed through the fire and formed a bond that would remain with them for the rest of their lives.
What was even better the Prince decided that his son would share the bedroom with Peter and me, and my father would receive a handsome allowance for looking after us all.