Nightmares on Fig Leaf Street

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, places or events is unintentional.

Nightmares on Fig Leaf Street Chapter VII

RUDE AWAKENINGS

DAY SIX (cont.)

Henry had never had anal sex before and, being straight, Andrew had never topped another man. To awaken in the middle of his own cherry popping and for the guy to be his stepbrother was... surprising.

Andrew meanwhile was mid-thrust and didn't seem to know how to stop.

This was reality! They could both feel it. Mr Summer had wanted them to know he had done this to them and not just in his fantasy, not just in the world of nightmares but in reality. Mr Summer had used his powers to make Andrew fuck his own stepbrother in the ass.

Andrew was on his back and Henry was sitting on his cock, facing his straight stepbrother. It was at that moment that Henry came and Andrew's body was soaked by the spray. It was like a garden hose had been turned on. The copious cum was par for the course for the rude awakenings orchestrated by Mr Summer.

The man had a real obsession with cum and boy waking up soiled with jizz.

Andrew came next and he could feel every spasm of his cock. He went still and Henry just sat on the big, brotherly boner. Andrew could feel Henry's balls sitting on his stomach and the flaccid dick too just flopping, nearly nestled inside his belly button.

When Andrew was sure he was done ejaculating, he pushed Henry gently in the chest and Henry pulled himself up and off the erect cock that had impaled his ass. Henry collapsed beside his stepbrother. They both panted and sweated and neither wanted to admit that it had felt good.

The dream had been a wild mixture of emotions and pleasures and reality had been... very real. It wasn't how Henry had imagined his first time but the orgasm, had been exquisite.

Andrew was even less likely to image his first time would be with another guy. His ideal number of times having gay sex would have been zero. However, even a straight guy had to admit that cumming in a boys ass was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Ok, I agree we need to talk to dad," Andrew said breathlessly.

He announced this as if picking up a conversation from a moment ago rather than hours or days. Andrew had not just been reluctant to talk to his dad, he had been vehemently opposed. But all of this had to end.

"Right now or can I have a minute?" Henry replied breathlessly.

Henry put his arms behind his head as he lay back on the bed beside Andrew. It was weird for Andrew to be so close to Henry's pits that he could nearly smell them.

"Maybe have a shower first," Andrew agreed.

"I don't want to make a big deal out of it but... that was kinda good for me," Henry admitted.

"We're victims now, Henry," Andrew replied, bursting his stepbrother's bubble. "Just like our dads were."

"Yea... I guess..." Henry replied but he still felt filled with pleasure over his first time. "On the other hand, I don't think I'm scared anymore. Of being abandoned or failing. You?"

Andrew had to think about but the truth was just admitting his dysmorphia had released him, letting go of the secret shame that had stalked him.

"No. I'm not scared of him now. I'm not scared of being who I am," Andrew confessed.

There was still a road to recovery ahead but his fear couldn't be exploited anymore.

A few hours later and the brothers were in the kitchen. They had agreed not to share what had happened when they woke up. Erotic dreams were one thing but actually fucking your brother was something neither of them were in a hurry to share.

The stepbrothers had called Leroy, Quinn and Chris so they could share what they'd learned. Chris had offered long sullen silences and Leroy had experienced a half-remembered and disjointed dream as if the focus had been elsewhere.

It was Quinn who was most excited as he shared the revelation of waking up in Mr Summer's grave.

"But his body wasn't there?" Andrew asked grimly.

"No," Quinn admitted. "Which isn't very helpful I guess?"

"It means someone moved it. Someone who knew where it was and that it would be disturbed by the construction," Henry deduced.

"Or someone who didn't know where it was and found it when construction started?" Leroy suggested with a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"You think your dad found it?" Chris said tactlessly.

"Maybe. I don't know. But the nightmares started suddenly. They came out of the blue and we think the coach has been dead for nearly twenty years," Leroy said.

"So why now?" Chris nodded in agreement. "Because his grave was disturbed."

"Something weird happened when I confronted Mr Summer in my dream," Henry offered.

"Me too," Quinn said.

"Me... three," Andrew chipped in.

"I figured out my fear and took control of the dream. A bit at least," Quinn said.

"When I realised my fear, it was like Mr Summer didn't care I'd figured it out. Like using our fears had only been a part of it," Henry added.

"When I figured out what fear he was using against me, it only made him vindictive. It didn't weaken him. He talked about cursing us because our dads stood up to him," Andrew said.

"He said, one of us would never face our fear," Quinn recalled. "It was like it was important to him and I think we're all trapped unless we face our fears and him together."

"I told you yesterday, my fear is loss of respect or status," Leroy said.

"And mine was being bullied," Quinn reminded the group.

"I'm not doing this," Chris muttered.

"I was afraid of failing and being abandoned by my friends and family. Like my dad abandoned me," Henry said.

"I have major body image issues..." Andrew said.

"Really? Dude, your fucking ripped!" Quinn said.

"Yea. Thanks. Not really how fear or dysmorphia works... but thanks," Andrew replied.

They all turned to Chris.

"I'm not fucking doing this," Chris insisted.

"Chris, I think you have to. This won't work if we don't face this together," Quinn said gently.

"It's ok, Chris," Henry said – he had already guessed what Chris was afraid of. "You can tell us. It's ok."

Chris wasn't ready to accept he was gay. He couldn't tell people. He couldn't even admit it to himself.

"It's not ok," Chris shouted back. "Fuck this. Fuck all of you."

Chris stormed out of the house, running away as fast as he could. He was angry and exhausted. The tears in his eyes blinded him and his fatigue made him stumble but he kept running. He had to run away from all this, then it would be ok.

Chris didn't even see the car coming until it was too late and then it all went black.

But Mr Summer was waiting for him...

BED BATH AND BEYOND

"I'd bath him with my tongue if I was allowed to."

"He's not going to stop you is he?"

The two boys laughed.

"It's getting busy out there."

"Too busy to close the door? Think of the poor guys dignity."

"What dignity?"

They laughed again.

"We could get in a lot of trouble."

"I forgot to close the door. Sorry. Honest mistake. Didn't to wash the hot, nearly naked eighteen year old while the whole ward could see."

Nearly naked? Chris could feel his lower half was covered with a sheet but everything above his abdomen was exposed.

"These things happen."

As the two voices laughed again, Chris felt a cloth pass over his face and as it passed over his eyes, his eyelids were pushed open. Chris could now see the two young men who had been laughing about bathing him. Bathing? Chris was in a hospital bed? The young men were maybe a few years older than Chris and dressed in the scrubs of a Patient Care Technician. Their name badges read: JOHN and BILL.

"Whoa! Is he awake?" John asked.

John looked startled and then worried he'd get into trouble for being so disrespectful to a patient.

His friend waved his hand in front of Chris's face and then clicked his fingers.

"Don't think he can respond. He can look but he can't see?" Bill suggested.

"Maybe. It's freaky though," John decided.

The lad dried Chris's face with a dry towel.

Chris was trying to remember what happened. Why was he in hospital? Why couldn't he move?

Chris half remembered being angry with Henry and the others and running and then...

He'd been in an accident.

He'd been hurt.

Now Chris was awake but couldn't move, couldn't speak – he was locked in but fully aware of everything going on around him.

"It would be awesome if he was awake," Bill said.

"Why?" John replied.

"He can't speak. He can't move. We could say anything... Do could do anything," Bill said.

John laughed and looked nervously over his shoulder at the open door and the bustling ward.

"Like what?" John asked.

"Like this," Bill responded.

Bill pulled the sheet covering Chris and bundled it into a ball before tossing it onto a chair at the side of his room. Chris was left fully exposed to the two young Patient Care Technicians. John laughed at Chris's exposure. He could feel the air conditioning on his bare skin, his flaccid penis was shrunken and his balls half way inside his abdomen.

Was he really naked in this hospital room? Were these guys really going to leave him like this?

"Dude, come on. I was only joking before," John said unconvincingly.

Chris felt ashamed that he was now naked. The door of his room was open and someone could walk by at any moment.

"We won't get in trouble. Who's going to say anything? Him?" Bill laughed.

"But if he is awake and he gets better, he might talk about the things we said..." John started to say.

"He'll what? Tell them two guys called John and Bill did it. There are a lot of Bill's and John's in this hospital. Come on, what's this pussy going to do about it?" Bill said.

Chris wasn't even sure he could blink his objection. It was like he was sleeping with his eyes open. He was aware of his exposure and the risk of being seen by anyone walking by. For a moment he hoped that at least the two young man were between him and the door and so they would obscure the sight of his nakedness. They seemed to intuit this and moved to the other side of the bed with mischievous grins.

Now Chris was fully naked and exposed to the busy ward outside his room. The two Patient Care Technicians continued to apply soap and water, washing Chris's skin. They lifted his arms and exposed his pits and lifted his legs and parted them to expose his taint.

A few people passed, busy hospital workers in various scrubs and suits but no-one bothered to secure Chris's privacy or dignity. Patient's passed by too and relatives, some pausing rather than continuing on politely and pretending not to notice.

Chris could only see the parade of witnesses out the corner of his eye but they could see every naked inch of him. From his bare feet to his penis to swimmers chest and nipples. A boy in a hospital gown walked past the door, distracted by his phone, but then doubled back when he was the stud was totally nude. He lifted his phone and Chris heard the sound of a picture being taken and then moved on with a wicked snigger.

Chris burned with shame at his exposure.

It was torture.

It was like a nightmare.

It only got worse because one of the boys humiliated Chris even more by pinching his nipples can playing with the sensitive teats. Chris didn't know how stimulating that could be because it felt great. It felt really great.

Chris felt himself getting hard by the time the young men were ready to wash his privates, he was fully aroused.

"Shit dude, I think he likes you," Bill teased John.

"Gross. You do it," John replied.

"I'm not touching his junk!" Bill said.

"Well I don't want to touch it either," John insisted.

"You two should have closed the door. For goodness sake, is this your first day?"

The pair turned to look suitably admonished to someone who looked suitably in charge but too posh to wash.

"Sorry," John responded.

"You have left this poor, naked, erect teenager exposed to the whole floor!"

"Sorry," Bill parroted.

"Staff, patients and relatives have been able to watch this naked young man getting washed and aroused by the touch of you boys!"

"Sorry," John and Bill echoed.

Chris couldn't turn his head or his eyes to see the man in the doorway but he could see everything as if disembodied while locked inside. The door slammed and the admonished boys just laughed.

"Staff, patients and relatives have been able to watch this naked young man getting washed," Bill teased as he caressed the inside of Chris's silky, muscular thighs.

The touch came dangerously close to Chris's balls.

"...and aroused by the touch of you boys!" John completed.

John grabbed Chris's cock and pumped it a few times. If Chris could have gasped, he would have. It felt so good.

"Freak!"

"Homo!"

Chris withered inside but his cock only pulsed harder.

"I think he liked that," Bill said.

"What, me jerking him off or calling him a homo?" John asked his friend.

"Both," Bill chuckled.

"We should say more things," John suggested as he continued to stroke Chris's cock.

"You look like you shave, pussy!" Bill said.

"Yea, look at those girly legs. I bet the butch boys love them," John mocked.

Bill stroked Chris's legs.

"Smoother than my girlfriends," Bill said. "You shave your tit's too, loser?"

With this, Bill squeezed Chris's ample pecs and then his nipples. John was still jerking Chris off. Chris burned with embarrassment – the worst thing was how good it felt. Not the insults, but the hand job. As a result, Chris nursed guilt for enjoying the sensation. He was a good Catholic boy so guilt was culturally ingrained.

Chris knew he shouldn't feel this way about men.

"You like being touched by guys, you queer?" John asked.

"He loves it. He's so hard," Bill laughed at Chris. "You should suck him off and see if he likes that!"

"Me? You suck him, I already jerked him," John protested.

Bill took the challenge, leaning over and wrapping his lips around the head of Chris's cock. John let go to give Bill room to work but it just meant Chris had an audience for the oral sex. Chris did like it and he feared how excited the tongue of a young man could be. He liked it a lot. He was frightened by how much he liked it.

The warmth of Bill's mouth as it worked up and down was exquisite. His cock leaked precum which was promptly slurped up by Bill's mouth.

"Gayboy is really enjoying that," John said.

Bill came up for air and reached between Chris's legs, pressing fingers against Chris's perineum until the found his asshole. It hardly seemed real. It couldn't feel this good, could it?

"Stop us if you don't like it, freak!" Bill said. "No?"

Bill dipped his head back down and started sucking again.

"Maybe I should put more than fingers in there?" John said.

Bill gave John a thumbs up and moved his hand from Chris's hole to his balls. Chris felt the young man massaging his almost hairless balls. The smoothness would have earned comment if Bill's mouth hadn't been full.

Chris could see John pushing his scrub trousers down to his ankles. He wasn't wearing underwear and it was only now that Chris noticed Bill wasn't wearing underwear either – he could tell Bill's cock was unsupported by the tenting in his scrubs.

John's cock was already erect and stood straight out and hard as a nail. It lifted the bottom of his scrub top. John stepped out of the scrub bottoms and clambered onto Chris's bed. He knelt between Chris's feet and edged forward, spreading Chris's legs and lifting his knees to spread them wider and access Chris's hole.

"You really gonna fuck the queer?" Bill asked.

"Hell yea. I love a tight hole," John said.

"You hear that?" Bill whispered in Chris's ear. "He's gonna fuck your ass just like you like it."

Chris didn't want people to know he was gay. He didn't want to know it himself. If he liked this, and he had so far, how could he continue to hide from it? Chris didn't dwell on this fear much longer because he felt a bare cock pressing against his hole and then the cock started to push inside.

Fuck!

It felt so good.

John started to fuck Chris's ass – pushing and pulling as he rawdogged Chris who remained silent and unable to respond. Even if he could, what would he have done? Secretly, Chris liked the excuse of not being able to resist. He could enjoy it guilt free. Except he still felt guilt. He wasn't meant to be this way.

"Oh you love that, don't you faggot?" John teased him. "You liked my cock inside your pussy?"

Bill had been jerking Chris off but now he laughed as his friend fucked Chris. Chris could see Bill feeling left out of the action so he dropped his own scrubs bottoms and stroked his cock. Bill pulled off his top too and the young naked man stepped closer.

He was fit as fuck!

Chris's cock pulsed at the sight of the naked young man. He was so hot! His cock was big!

Bill pressed his hard dick into Chris's cheek and left a sticky dot of precum. He laughed at Chris and John laughed too. Then Bill pushed his cock across Chris's lips.

Bill turned Chris's head to face him and opened Chris's mouth so he could put his cock inside. Chris, unable to move or speak, felt as the big dick slid into his mouth. John's cock was in his ass. As both his holes were filled, Chris got closer to orgasm.

His untouched cock leaked all over his abdomen until a pond of precum was swimming on his tummy.

"He's sucking my cock!" Bill said. "Even when he's unconscious, he's a cock whore."

John was thrusting and grunting as he pounded Chris's ass and Bill face fucked Chris who slabbered as saliva and precum spilled out.

"Your friend is in here..."

The same voice as before, preceded by the sound of the door opening.

"And he's having sex with two men!"

Chris felt utterly mortified as he was again exposed – hard and being pleasure by two young men to everyone in the threshold. The blinds on the windows seemed to open up and the curtains were open and Chris was exposed. He was so exposed.

"I was just showing Chris's teammates in to see him."

The entire swim team could see him having sex with men.

"We didn't know Chris liked getting ass fucked!"

"Oh my god, wait until we tell everyone."

"Tell? I'm gonna take a picture and send it to the Seniors WhatsApp group."

"I'll forward it to the Juniors."

"I'll send it to my bro. He's in the Sophomore group chat."

"You two don't mind if we take your pictures, do you?"

They were asking John and Bill but not him?

"No, that's cool dude," Bill said. "I'll show my pits you everyone can see how your friend likes his men. My cock is halfway in his mouth too."

"That's awesome."

"Chris is a freak!"

"And I'll keep half my shaft poking out his ass," John added. "Make sure everyone can see your friend is hard."

"He looks like his dick's about to explode."

"He likes it."

Chris felt the pictures, the exposure, the cocks inside him.

Chris shot his load in a series of convulsive spasms that fired from his cock and sprayed across his chest and abdomen.

"Fuck! I think I took the picture mid-cum."

"It's ok, I got it on video."

John started to fuck his ass again and Bill shot his load in Chris's mouth, over his lips, in his face. John came inside Chris's ass and he felt the jizz leaking from his hole.

"What will the whole school think when they see him like this?"

"What will his dad think when he finds out his son is an abomination?"

"His dad is a priest. He'll think his son is detestable."

"Anyone else want a turn inside him?" John asked.

"Two holes, no waiting," Bill said as he invited the swim team to fuck Chris's face.

"We're not gay!"

"Neither are we but the gayboy loves this stuff. It's their job to service real men," Bill replied.

No.

No!

Chris couldn't believe this was happening. He had to get out of here but he still couldn't move and even worse, as his teammates lined up to fill him with cum and cement his role as a cumdump.

Chris couldn't wake up.

Chris was dreaming.

Chris couldn't wake up.

It was a nightmare.

Chris couldn't wake up.

BURY THE TRUTH

"You really think he's hot?" Andrew asked his stepbrother.

It was at this moment their dad walk into the room.

"Are you kidding me?" Henry replied. "He's so hot, I'd let him piss in my asshole."

It was at this moment their dad walked out of the room.

"Dad, wait!" Andrew called as he saw the man trying to escape.

The conversation about Henry's school crushes was instantly forgotten as they finally faced up to confronting their dad about Fredrick Summer and the nightmares on Fig Leaf Street.

"I don't want to know," said Johnny Roberts. "I really don't want to know."

He was chuckling at his sons and their very honest friendship but he wasn't the kind of dad who wanted to know about his son's sex lives. They entered the kitchen where Johnny opened a bottle of water and took a drink.

"Dad, we need to talk," Henry said seriously.

The man heard the tone, no longer light and laughing. It was serious.

"What's wrong? What's happened?" Johnny asked.

He was still in his police uniform which somehow made this harder given what they were about to ask him.

"We've been having dreams," said Andrew.

"Nightmares," Henry clarified.

"Right. Nightmares," Andrew agreed.

"Like last night we both dreamed of being tied up and jerked off," Henry said a little too honestly.

"Oh..." Johnny said uncomfortably. "Well I'm sure you both like being jerked off... not sure about the tied-up thing."

"No!" Andrew responded vehemently.

"I'd be willing to try it," Henry said at the same moment.

"Ok, good talk," Johnny said uncomfortably and made to leave the kitchen.

"Dad, we need to talk about..." Andrew hesitated. "I don't know how to put this tactfully."

"We know Fredrick Summer abused you twenty years ago," Henry said.

"I probably wouldn't have said it like that," Andrew shot Henry a glare.

Henry was usually the sensitive and diplomatic one.

"We've been seeing him in our nightmares, dad," Henry said.

Johnny's face had gone stoney and cold towards them both.

"Don't be ridiculous. You know nothing about this and I don't want to talk about it," Johnny said angrily.

"Dad? Please," Andrew said.

The tone was gentle and quiet. Johnny had been glaring furiously at his stepson but now his vision softened as he looked at his other son. Johhny hadn't forgotten what had happened a few nights ago. The bath tub. Andrew nearly drowning. The man he's described. The name Ricky.

"Dad, something is happening to us," Andrew said worriedly. "To me and Henry, to Quinn Booth, Chris Mason and Leroy Heard."

"You were friends with their dads in school, weren't you?" Henry asked more carefully this time.

"Yes. We were all friends," Johnny agreed and he dropped defeatedly into a chair at the kitchen table. "We were all victims of Coach Fredrick Summer."

Johnny had never wanted to tell his sons about this but now that talking was inevitable, it was like a heavy weight being lifted. The past. Magic. Murder.

"Why? What happened?" Henry probed.

Johnny didn't reply right away. He shook his head and looked bitter, angry, sad.

"What do you think you know?" Johnny asked.

"We think Fredrick Summer was a coach who used bulling, mind games and magic to make you all do things," Andrew said sympathetically. "We know you accused him of sexually abusing you all after you graduated. And we know he went to jail," Andrew said.

Johnny laughed humourlessly at that.

"But he was let out on a technicality?" Henry probed because he didn't know much more than that. "I couldn't find much after that."

In fairness, he hadn't had the chance to investigate farther yet.

"We... we didn't want to be the kind of boys who had been abused. You know?" Johnny asked, imploring them to understand. "Right after we graduated, we knew he wouldn't stop. It had started for all of us in Tenth Grade but he would pick new victims. And we weren't the first to accuse him but others had been silenced or disgraced, dissuaded or discredited. The assistant coach, Jordan Jimison, covered up for him."

"Why?" Andrew asked.

"Why do men do what they mustn't?" Johnny replied because he didn't know why the man had done it. "They were friends and Jimison is a rape apologist. He covered for Ricky but he couldn't cover up what we knew."

Johnny paused and steadied himself.

"We... recorded certain things. We each started keeping a log of things that had happened. We gave DNA samples to a crisis centre that keep until people are ready to come forward," Johnny told his sons. "It was the early noughties; it was harder to prove these things. Rape victims are always treated sceptically but we were lucky. We were popular, good at sports and classes, middle class and three of us were white. So they believed us."

"But Mr Summer was found guilty, wasn't he?" Henry asked.

"His defence council was a bastard," Johnny spat. "He accused us of lying, exaggerating, trying to defame Ricky's character. And when that didn't work he tried to blame us for letting it happen."

Henry and Andrew both looked outraged and disgusted.

"We were all big guys. Strong. Capable. He implied that if we didn't want it to happen, we could have stopped it," Johnny said and he couldn't look the boys in the eye. "Ricky rarely did things to us himself. He watched us in the showers and he made us to things with each other. Sometimes he would..."

Johnny especially didn't look at Henry. He'd known Henry was gay since he was a little kid and it had never been an issue. But as a straight man who had been abused by a man to be accused of wanting it? Letting it happen? He had it coming? What was he wearing? That wasn't right!

"We'd been warned by our legal team that his defence would try to provoke us and make us seem unreliable. I wanted to rip Ricky's smug fucking face off," Johnny admitted. "But we all stayed calm and only Arthur cried in the witness box but that was ok."

"Why did my dad break down?" Henry asked.

"Fredrick Summer used different tactics on different people. He bullied your dad more than the rest of us," Johnny revealed. "Said he was terrible, threatened to throw him off the team... never did though. Arthur was always in the starting line-up. He was good."

"If Mr Summer was found guilty, how did he get out?" asked Andrew.

"The assistant couch, the one who knew what was happening to us and covered it up, was a lawyer. When Fredrick Summer appealed his conviction, guess who got the case?" Johnny asked.

"Jordan Jimison," Henry put it together.

"Jordan overturned the conviction and let Fred go free. Some of the evidence that had been presented was mislabelled. That was it. Not that the evidence was wrong or that we lied or that Mr Summer was telling the truth..." Johnny listed bitterly. "He just threw the conviction out."

"Why does Jimison's name sound familiar?" Henry asked Andrew who shrugged.

"He sounds familiar because he's now a state senator," Johnny said icily.

"How the fuck was he elected senator? Do people not know he was friends with an abuser of boys and helped him get away with it?" Andrew asked incredulously.

"Oh, people knew. But he ran as a republican in a red state so they voted for him anyway," Johnny replied.

"And he's and idiot! Isn't he the guy who said wind energy would make the weather hotter because turbines would slow the wind down? How does a rape and abuse apologist get elected?" Henry asked disbelievingly.

"He was the republican candidate in a red state," Johnny repeated and that was all there was to say.

"So Fred Summer got off scot-free and went back to his normal life?" Henry asked incredulously.

"Oh no. He had lost his job and his wife and baby son had left him. He should have left himself," Johnny reflected. "But he stayed to torment us. To rub it in our faces that he'd won."

Johnny exhaled and grew silent and sullen.

"Dad, what did you do?" Andrew asked solemnly.

"Me, Arthur and Donald were coaching for the school during the summer holidays..." Johnny started.

Johnny (Andrew's dad/ Henry's stepdad), Arthur (Henry's dad) and Donald (Leroy's dad).

"The fucker came at the end of one of our coaching sessions. The boys were all sixteen or seventeen and we were twenty-one by then. We hadn't actually seen him since the trial two years earlier," Johnny continued. "He just watched. Most people didn't notice him or recognise him but we knew he was looking."

Andrew and Henry stayed quiet. Their dad didn't need any more prompting. Now that he had started confessing, it seemed he wouldn't stop. Confession – Quinn and his dad would understand that. Sebastian Boot was a Catholic priest after all.

"Some of the boys took their shirts off and horsed around and Fredrick Summer just watched them. When the boys had gone inside to shower, we stayed to confront Ricky. To ask him why he was there," Johnny said. "You know what he said?"

"He was hungry," Henry guessed sombrely.

Johnny nodded.

"It was something he used to say to us all the time," Johnny admitted. "He got hungry waiting to watch us... masturbate or suck each other or fuck... or to touch him."

The details shared in court had been graphic and shameful.

"I hit him first. Laid him out flat. We dragged him inside and called the others. All five of us were there when he came around and..." Johnny tried to put what had happened into words. "We thought we could... make peace with what happened but Ricky just played his old games. He liked mind games. Used to say he knew magic and hypnotism."

Henry and Andrew shared a brief look.

"We believed him. It was easier to believe that than accept we were bullied and manipulated and molested," Johnny continued. "We had tied him to a chair in the coaches office. It used to be his office. The school coach was going to be off all summer and we were all filling in so we were the only ones with access."

"You left him there," Andrew said flatly.

"Yea. He said he was hungry and it seemed ironically fitting. We just left him there to starve. We gagged his mouth, we locked the door and we didn't go back," Johnny said.

"Dad went back," Henry said.

"How do you know that?" Johnny asked.

There were things he had pieced together since it all happened but he was curious how much his sons had figured out. It was easier to think about this mystery than contemplate the far more terrible possibility – that Mr Summer really was in their dreams and doing to them what he had done to him.

"Did you know where was he buried, dad?" Henry asked his own question.

"No. We all went back after a week... to make sure he was... but Ricky was gone. We thought he'd escaped somehow and we were strangely relieved but Henry told us he'd come back and seen him die. Henry said he'd buried the body and wouldn't tell us where," Johnny said tonelessly. "A year later, you boys were all born and your dad was dead, Henry."

"He couldn't live with the guilt?" Henry asked.

"I'm a cop, Henry. I know the law and right and wrong and I know your dad and I did nothing wrong. I'd do it again," Johnny confessed.

"You found the grave at the weekend though, didn't you? That's when all this started. They're constructing the new sports building but they disturbed somethings. Didn't they?" Andrew said to move them along.

"Yes. Donald called me in a panic. The excavators had dug out an old drainage layer and Donald... he said he could feel something was wrong," Johnny recalled the phone call. "Some work had been done on the sports field around the time Fredrick Summer disappeared. Arthur must have put his body in the ditch and covered it over. Then the filler and the turf was put on top."

"Where did you move the body to, dad? Andrew asked.

At first, the boys didn't think their dad would respond at all but eventually he did.

"Why?" Johnny asked. "How did you know about Ricky in the first place? Why are you asking all this?"

"Why did you tell us?" Henry asked – again not answering his stepdads question.

"When it all happened, we buried the truth. No-one ever came close to suspecting us. It was assumed he ran off. But I always thought one day you might ask. Someone in town might tell you. You might read an old article about it. Something like that. And I always promised myself that if you asked I'd tell you what happened to me and why I did what I did," Johnny replied honestly.

"We've been having nightmares about him for nearly a week," Henry said.

Johnny drew his son a sceptical and almost angry look – angry because he thought Herny was being facetious.

"We didn't know who he was at first but he tried to scare us, he used our fears against us..." Andrew jumped in earnestly and Johnny's face softened.

"And there has been a lot of nudity and boy-on-boy action," Henry added.

"Sounds like a normal dream for you," Johnny joked humourlessly.

"Mr Summer is always there. He seems to control our nightmares to make his fantasies come true. He likes to watch us like he did to you and torment us with our worst fears," Henry explained

"It can't be, Henry," Johnny replied desperately. "It can't be him. It just can't."

Johnny was trying to convince himself more than his sons.

"I don't believe in magic or hypnotism or mind control or any of that crap but I can't explain what's been happening," Henry continued. "Me and Andrew, Quinn, Chris and Leroy are all having nightmares and they won't stop. We've talked to Fredrick Summer in the dreams. He told us he was hungry and he got off on us being humiliated."

"And he makes things happen in the real world. Remember the bathtub?" Andrew asked his dad. "You knew something was up when you pulled me out. You said; it can't be him, he's dead."

Johnny had put all this behind him nearly twenty years ago and now the past had come back to haunt him. He didn't want to believe his sons but he did. He knew something was happening to them.

"He said when my dad went back, he cursed you and is using us to punish you," Henry said. "We thought he was just exploiting our fears and that it gave him power somehow but when we faced our fears he didn't seem to care."

"He never cared what we did either. If anything he liked it when one of us said no every once in a while. He didn't give a fuck until we all stood up to him. It was all or nothing," Johnny said insightfully.

"We think we need to find his body. To feed it, to sate him and set him free so that we can be free," Henry said.

"That's crazy, Henry," Johnny told his stepson.

"This whole fucking thing is crazy. But we don't know what else to do..." Andrew interjected.

"I'm not telling you where his body is now. If I tell you, you'd be accessories to a crime..." Johnny insisted. "Fredrick Summer isn't going anywhere, I promise. There's something else I didn't tell you."

Johnny looked guiltily at Henry.

"When your dad admitted he had gone back to watch Ricky die he also told us he buried the body but not where. When Donald uncovered the body at the weekend, I called Sebastian for counsel," Johnny told them. "Seb admitted he'd known about the grave because Arthur had confessed."

"My dad confessed to Quinn's dad?" Henry interjected.

"Seb was in the seminary by then. He took Art's confession and agreed to keep it a secret from the rest of us as long as he could pray for the man's soul and consecrate the ground," Johnny concluded. "When we dealt with the remains, we did the same again. If Ricky was using magic, he hasn't been able to do it until we found his body. Now he's buried again just like before, maybe he'll just fade away?"

"Dad, I don't think so..." Andrew said.

Henry was about to interject too. He felt like they had just been told something important. However, Johnny was saved from further questions by his phone ringing and he answered it hastily to get out of the conversation.

"Yea? Yea, I remember; unidentified white male, 18-21 years old, RTA, car didn't stop..." Johnny recalled.

He had been told about the accident a few hours ago and they had been working to identify the car, the driver and the injured young man.

"Are you sure?" Johnny asked with increased concern. "Yea, I know. I know him... I'll tell him."

Johnny hung up and turned to his sons.

"A kid was hit by a car early this morning. He's unconscious but stable," Johnny told them. "I need to go tell his dad."

"Who is it?" Andrew asked.

"It's Quinn," Johnny replied.

ALL FOR ONE AND ONE FOR ALL

"Does this really change anything?" Leroy asked.

He was so tired. Andrew and Henry had updated Leroy and Quinn as soon as they got to school. After a sleepless, nightmare loaded night and an emotionally charged morning, it had felt strange going to school. Their dad had just admitted he helped kill a man and then they went to English class.

Now the four boys were discussing what to do next.

How to end it all.

"We know how and why Mr Summer died and that he was buried in the drainage ditch but we don't know where he is now? Apart from still being dead, obviously," Leroy summarised. "So we're no farther forward."

"I don't know about that. We know Fredrick Summer believed in magic and curses. Given what's been happening to all of us, there must be something to it," Andrew pointed out.

"I think we know something else," Henry said. "My dad buried Mr Summer's body and the curse only started when he was uncovered."

"You think the soil did something?" Quinn asked.

Leroy yawned loudly and the four of them walked down the corridor.

"Dad said the soil was blessed. Mr Booth consecrated the ground. It's the kind of thing superstitious people do," Henry said.

"Superstitious? I think they prefer the word religious, dude," Quinn corrected his friend.

"You forget something, dude?"

"What?" Leroy replied.

The lad next to him laughed and when Leroy looked down, all his clothes were gone.

They students in the hallways started laughing and Leroy blushed at his instantaneous and inexplicable exposure. This couldn't be happening... wait, it literally could not be happening.

"Leroy?!" Andrew said and gave him a shake.

Leroy jolted awake and found himself still in the corridor but thankfully clothed.

"Sorry. What were you guys... saying?" Leroy asked distractedly.

They were all tied, exhausted from poor sleep, the nightmares and efforts to avoid dreaming by not sleeping. Had Leroy really just fallen asleep on his feet?

"We were speculating that consecrated ground stopped Mr Summer coming for us sooner and since the dreams haven't stopped, he's not buried in consecrated ground now," Quinn reiterated.

"Right. That makes sense. Or as much sense as any of this makes?" Leroy said.

"Except dad said they'd blessed the ground again when they moved him and we're still having nightmares," Andrew said.

"Maybe the ground was blessed with something else the first time? Maybe it wasn't a prayer or holy water that trapped Mr Summer?" Quinn deduced.

"Cum," Henry said thoughtfully. "It's the recurring theme that's been in all our dreams."

"You think they masturbated on his grave?" Quinn asked.

"I think my dad did. I think it makes a strange kind of sense," Henry said. "Everything our dads knew about the original burial is the same but we're still having dreams."

"Maybe he was buried in an ancient Indian burial site the first time?" Andrew suggested facetiously.

"You been watching the Simpsons Halloween Specials again, dude?" Leroy replied dryly.

"I don't think the grave site is the answer," Henry said intuitively. "I think... I think spitting on a man's grave is traditional when they're a bastard. I think my dad would have figuratively spat on his grave."

"So we need to cum on Mr Summer's grave to trap him or set us free or whatever?" Leroy asked. "Who writes this stuff?"

They all mulled this over, too tired to come up with new hypotheses or courses of action.

"Have any of you heard how Quinn is doing?" Leroy asked.

"Dad says he's alive, stable but unconscious," Henry answered. "We'll have to figure this out without him."

"Well, he hasn't exactly been a team player so far, has he?" Andrew said bluntly. "Typical, we do all the work and the jock will get half the credit."

"Andrew, you're a jock!" Quinn reminded him and Andrew shrugged.

Leroy would have laughed but he was so tired that he'd fallen asleep on his feet. There was something else too – something he only realised when Andrew and Quinn mentioned jocks – Leroy's jock was gone. He had been wearing it just a moment ago and now it was gone!

Mr fucking Summer had stolen his jock!

"If we need to find Mr Summer's body, maybe we can get him to tell us?" Henry pondered as the four of them walked into a classroom and sat down, waiting for the lesson to start.

"You think he'll just say it?" Quinn replied incredulously.

"I don't know... I think he might..." Henry answered but he was still trying to figure it out.

Leroy felt the sudden rush of water as the spray from the shower touched his face. It was room temperature and warmed up as he closed his eyes and felt the water cascade over his head. The water sluiced down his chest and back and down his legs. The water ran off the tip of his flaccid penis in a small stream that turned from clear to milky.

Leroy had swept his hand over his head and wiped his face, feeling his hand coming away sticky and slimy. Leroy watched as his body was absolutely plastered with cum.

He was showering in semen. Leroy didn't know how to respond. It was disgusting and then behind him, Leroy heard derisive laughter.

Leroy turned, naked, and saw the whole football team watching him shower.

"I think he got some in his mouth."

"Look at his dick."

"He's getting hard."

"Coach told us to load the showers up with spunk."

Leroy felt someone thump his arm and he jolted, the scene in the shower resolving into the classroom and a few sniggers from those who saw him wake up with a start.

"Are you ok?" Andrew asked his best friend.

"Yea. I think so," Leroy replied automatically.

Was he ok? He was certainly hard. In the supernatural absence of his jock, precum had leaked onto his thigh and Leroy could feel his own hardness pressed between his thigh and his jeans. The jeans squeezed his cock which was, thankfully, hidden under the desk.

"You fell asleep?" Andrew asked.

"I'm fine," Leroy insisted when Andrew looked worried.

Why did people always insist they were ok even if they weren't? The four boys spoke in hushed voices now as the teacher at the front of the room read the roll call.

"Guys, I have an idea," said Henry. "I think we need to sleep together."

"Now you're talking!" Quinn said enthusiastically.

"No, I mean we need to dream. To go into the nightmares together," Henry chuckled.

"On purpose? I don't know about you guys but I've been trying to stay awake," Leroy said.

"We've all tried that but that's not a plan. You just fell asleep in class," Quinn pointed out.

"We go to sleep, we dream. Then what?" asked Andrew.

"We call need to be together," Henry insisted. "We can only beat him if we're together."

"All for one and one for all?" Leroy interjected.

"And I think we should do it here," Henry added. "It's where Mr Summer targeted boys, where he died, where he was buried..."

"The library. It'll be closed after school," Quinn jumped in.

"Yea. We just need to stay awake until the end of the day," Leroy agreed bitterly.

It was going to be a hard day and, as if to emphasise this point, Leroy saw video from his creamy shower being shown on the screen at the front of the room. The cum plastered his hair to his head and made his face look shiny and greasy.

Again Leroy started awake to a regular English class. It was going to be a long day.

END OF CHAPTER VII

TO BE CONCLUDED...

If you're enjoying the more fantastic elements of this story, check out The SEX Men; it's a comic book inspired story involving superpowers, smut, comedy, drama and embarrassment.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/the-sex-men/

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My stories so far:

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester

Complete series: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of Riches, Do As You're Told, A Series of Embarrassing Events, and Noah the Embarrassed Nudist.

Also: Anthology, and The SEX Men.

Short stories: Aiden's Accidental Autoerotic Assignment, Jogging Joe's Jaunty Journey and Peter's Past Posing Pictures.