Fifty Shades of Gay Spice

snowprince108

Boarding School Days 1 ‘Please don't make me suck it!

I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was hiding behind a heavy theatre curtain, breathless and frightened. It was a game of indoor rugby, which had gotten out of hand. Paul Farrah was three years above me and he was an American kid who had more faces than Big Ben. They made him Head Prefect of the boarding school, which was like putting the wolf in charge of the sheep. He was tall lean and tanned all year round with a smile, which wouldn't look out of place on a cinema screen. His father was a surgeon and wanted him schooled in the UK. He had a dark side though. I had heard the rumours about Farrah and they frightened me and excited me at the same time. I was just becoming sexually aware in an all male school. Hormones and curiosity blurred my view of the world back then. I was confused about my sexuality. I was attracted to girls but there was something about Paul Farrah, which attracted me. He was incredibly handsome, charming and polite with the teachers but he was an arrogant bully to the rest of us. He had two sidekicks, Werner Cooke, a white South African kid, who had almost albino features and Edson Adekoya, who was a black kid from Somalia.

Anyway, that summer evening, the weather was bad. The Housemaster set us up playing six-a-side rugby in the gymnasium, which doubled as the assembly hall and the school theatre too. It was always a rough game, which usually ended in tears but that night Farrah seemed to be on a mission to hurt someone. Ten minutes into the game he ran towards me with the ball. I was slightly built; he was taller and much heavier. The thought of him knocking me down like a skittle didn't appeal to me and in a moment of madness, I stepped aside and stuck out my foot tripping him as he ran at full speed. He hurtled head first into a stack of chairs and ended up on his back staring at the ceiling.

The other boys laughed loudly but Farrah didn't see the funny side of it. I decided to make a quick exit and ran for the main doors. Werner Cooke realised what my plan was and he cut off my escape by blocking the path. I turned and sprinted for the stage at the other end of the hall. Farrah was on his feet and I could tell by the tirade of expletives that he wasn't best pleased with me. Boarding school was a tough environment at the best of times but making a fool of the Head Prefect was only going to add to my woes. I felt sick to my stomach as I vaulted the stage and headed into the wings looking for somewhere to hide. I headed to the stairs at the side of the wings, which led to the prop cellar beneath. I heard a clatter as Farrah mounted the stage and then suddenly the clamour of voices in the hall went quiet.

“What the hell is going on?” The familiar voice of our Housemaster boomed. He only had one volume level, full blast.

“Nothing, Sir.” The boys said together.

"Well if you can't play properly without acting the goat, you can get back to your dorms and get showered right now!”

“Yes, Sir!” They droned in unison as they filed out of the hall. He obviously hadn't noticed that I was missing.

I heard them tramping out and I hid behind the stage curtains, which draped into the orchestra pit and hid the trapdoors in the stage too. They were dusky pink velvet with heavy brass rings sewn into the hems to weight them. They smelled dusty and old as I tried to get my breath back. My heart was pounding and the blood was pulsing through my veins as I waited for the all clear to come out of my hiding space.

“Sweetman, you little bastard,” Farrah hissed from the darkness behind me. “You're in big trouble!"

"I'm really sorry," I mumbled. I was terrified. He was older and tougher and he was Head Prefect. I couldn't have picked a worse person to piss off. “It was an accident.”

“Accident my ass!” He always sounded more American when he said 'ass'. “Get here now.”

I wondered sheepishly to where he was standing, expecting to get a punch on the nose at any second. “I didn't mean it, honestly,” I cowered in front of him. “Please don't hit me.”

"Hit you?” he sneered. “I should break your thick head."

“I'm really sorry,” I was trying to repeat my apology when a crushing blow struck me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. My knees buckled and I crumpled to the floor gasping for breath. I would have begged for mercy but I couldn't breathe let alone talk. Hot stinging tears rolled down my cheeks and at that moment in time, boarding school was my hell on earth. What had I done to deserve being sent here? I felt sorry for myself and waited for the attack to continue but it didn't. Farrah just stood and watched me cry.

“You deserve that, Sweetman,” he said calmly. “You showed disrespect in front of the others and I can't have that.”

"I'm sorry," I whined, my breath slowly settling down. “Really I am.”

“I don't think sorry is nearly enough I'm afraid,” he shook his head as he spoke. His voice was calm and almost gentle. “Not after what you did in there.”

“What do you mean?” I thought he was going to put me on report or something but he had other plans for me.

“You're my bum-boy for a month,” he nodded, pleased with his decision. I had heard the name bum-boy many times and it wasn't a complimentary term. It usually meant that one kid had to do whatever the another kid asked, buy cigarettes, polish shoes, iron uniforms etc but I was too innocent to think that it went any further. Compared to being punched again, it didn't sound too bad at the time but like I said, I was very innocent then.

“I don't want the others to know though,” I said cautiously. “If I have to do chores for you then please don't tell the other lads."

“Everything will be between us,” he smiled and cocked his head to one side. There was something in his smile, which I didn't recognise back then. He held out his right hand and pulled me off the floor onto my knees. I thought it was an act of kindness so like a fool I smiled back at him. He ruffled my blond hair playfully. “I like you, Sweetman,” he said smiling again, “you can start making up to me right now and then we'll see how we go.”

“Okay,” I nodded eagerly. I didn't have a clue what he meant. I tried to stand up but he placed his hands on my shoulders and held me down. I was very confused at this point. “What's wrong?” I asked foolishly. “Why can't I get up?"

“Because you insulted me, Sweetman and now you're my bum-boy,” he looked angry again. He pointed to the growing bulge in his black shorts. “Now you can start being sorry by sucking my cock.”

"Oh no please, Farrah," I whispered. I had heard that another boy named, Thomas had sucked his cock a few times. The entire school knew about it but it was a wild rumour, a myth and I never imagined for one minute that it was true. He was teased and bullied relentlessly and eventually his parents moved him to another school to escape the stigma. Of course they didn't know why he was being bullied but I think some of the teachers had an idea what had happened. It was a boys' school after all and things happened. Experimenting was common amongst the older boys but only the brave or stupid talked about it. The truth was that as my sexual awareness heightened, the thought of being made to suck a cock had horrified and fascinated me at the same time. “I don't want to do that.”

With his left hand, he pulled his shorts and underwear off his hips with one quick tug. I was shocked at how big his balls were and I wasn't sure if they were repulsive or edible. My mind was in a spin. His right hand was pulling the hair on the back of my head painfully. It was the first time I had seen another guy's cock erect and I was shocked by how long and thick it was. He pulled the foreskin back and the purple tip was shaped like a big mushroom.

6 H, F9 W+ K0 M# O) W' I. Z$ H

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