Hartswood Priory - Toby's Story
by Pink Panther
Chapter 6
It's late February; the winter's almost over. I stroll along the corridor towards the trunk store. It's part of my routine now. We vary the day, but once a week after the supper I go to the trunk store and Mr. Atkinson bums me. We've been doing it for months; I don't really think about it any more. The weather was pretty nice today. Maybe in a couple of weeks we'll have some bright sunny days and I'll get a chance to use the combined birthday and Christmas present that I asked everyone for, my very first movie camera. It's in the new super-eight millimetre format; I can't wait to try it, but you need really good light, and up to now we haven't had any. I guess I'll just have to be patient.
That's not the only thing I've needed to be patient about. I've wracked my brains but I've not been able to come up with a way of getting a key to the trunk store. I didn't think it'd be that difficult, but Mr. Atkinson's very careful; he never leaves it where I can get it. I knock on the door. The key turns and the door opens. I step inside.
"Good to see you again, Toby!" Mr. Atkinson says quietly. "Come and sit down." I do as he says. "Are you okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, not bad," I say casually.
He goes through his usual routine, stroking and fondling me then taking my clothes off. I stand in front of him, stark naked except for my socks, while he sucks my dick. I've still not been able to work it out. I don't want to have sex with him; I'd like to tell him to fuck off, but when he sucks my dick it feels fantastic. Oh well, I just let him get on with it. His hand slips between my legs, a finger pushing into my bum-hole. He pulls away and looks up at me, grinning.
"You're all messy," he says. "When did Callum fuck you?"
"After prep," I tell him.
"Where?" he asks, clearly getting turned on by the idea.
"Up in the attic."
"So how did you do it?" he continues, the excitement in his voice all too obvious.
"I was down on fours, with Callum kneeling behind me."
"Oh!" he says breathlessly. "I'd love to have watched you doing that!"
"Then why don't you, sir?" I ask, an idea forming in my brain.
"What d'you mean?" he says, obviously having no idea what I'm talking about.
"Well, sir," I say calmly, "all you need to do is to give me a key to this place. I'll arrange to meet Callum by the art room, tell him I've got a little surprise for him. I'll let you know when it is so you can get here before we do. You hide yourself behind the trunks and stuff. I'll bring Callum here and we'll do it. As long as you keep quiet he'll never know; I mean, it's pretty dark back there."
He looks at me like I've just told him I found the Holy Grail or something.
"You're serious, aren't you?" he says, like he doesn't quite believe it.
"Yes, why not?" I say, shrugging.
If he's got any sense, he'll tell me to forget it, but his dick's taken over what his brain's for. He wants to watch Callum bumming me and I've just offered him the chance.
"So what happens to the key afterwards?" he asks.
"I keep it, of course," I say calmly. "This place is much more comfortable than the places we normally use." I pause for a second. "Oh, don't worry," I add, "we won't be coming here all the time; people might get suspicious. I don't want anyone else finding out, now do I? And I'll make sure everything's put away afterwards."
"How are you going to explain how you got the key?"
"That's my problem, isn't it?" I say dismissively. "It's not going to involve you; I don't want Callum to find out that you've been bumming me."
"Let me think about it," he says quietly.
"Sure," I say, glowing with a sense of quiet satisfaction. His eyes have given him away; he's going to do it. "So how d'you want me?" I ask coyly, by way of cementing the deal.
"Can I have you on your tummy?" he asks.
"Yeah, if you want," I tell him. "Just don't put all your weight on me."
I go through the usual stuff of sucking his cock to get him all wet then climb onto the bed, getting into the same position he had me the first time he did it. I still don't like thinking about that. He works some lube into my bum. Finally his fingers pull out. This is it. He spreads my legs wider, getting down between them till his cock's pushing against my bum-hole. I relax and let it slide into me. He pushes down, inch by inch, until his cock-hair's rubbing against my bum. I'm so used to it now it doesn't hurt at all.
He begins to move, slowly pumping his hips. I understand this even less. I hate the idea of a guy his age doing that to me, but when it's actually happening, my dick starts throbbing like you wouldn't believe. Very gradually he increases the pace, bumming me harder, hitting my prostate over and over. After around five minutes, the tingling sensations hit me, beginning right down by my toes and quickly sweeping across my whole body. I'm thrashing about, my fingers clawing at the mattress, my bum tightening sharply around his cock. I gasp for air as my dick jerks wildly against the pillow.
"Oh! You naughty, sexy boy!" he rasps. "Oh, now I'm going to fill you up! "Take it Toby! Take my cum!"
His cock swells and throbs deep inside me, rope after rope of his thick creamy spunk flooding into my arse. Finally it's over. He takes a minute to get his breath back then slowly pulls out. My bum's not even sore. I climb off the bed and start to get dressed. I'm tempted to ask him when he's going to get the key for me, but think better of it. I don't want to seem too pushy; he might change his mind.
It's all set up. Mr. Atkinson gave me the key yesterday; I knew he would. I've fixed to meet Callum by the art room. He was a bit wary at first; he'd arranged for us to go somewhere before prep, but I talked him round, without actually telling him too much. And I've told Mr. Atkinson, so that's it. I check my watch; it's twenty five past seven. I stroll down towards the art room. Mr. Townsend, the art teacher, goes home before we have supper, so the area is always deserted at this time. I stand outside the art room and wait. My heart's thumping; I just have to hope that Callum turns up, I don't think he liked me taking the lead for a change. The older boy calls the shots; that's how it is, you know the drill.
He arrives a couple of minutes later, looking very nervous. I can understand that; for once he's not in charge; he doesn't even know where we're going.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says, looking round furtively.
"It's all right," I say casually. "Nobody ever comes here at this time. Come on!"
I lead the way to the trunk store and let us in. Mr. Atkinson's already here; I can't see him, I can't hear him, I can't even smell him, but he's here all right, I can FEEL him.
"How did you get a key to this place?" Callum whispers.
"Last Saturday morning," I say nonchalantly. "I was working in the art room. When I left I saw it in the lock; someone had left it there. I checked; there was nobody about so I took it. That afternoon when I went into town I got a copy cut. After supper I put the original back where I found it; that's it really."
"That's amazing!" he says, clearly impressed. "You've got the old bed set up too!"
"Yeah, did that a bit earlier."
"Where did you get the pillows?"
"Borrowed them from Matron's store room; there's loads of stuff in there, nobody will ever check."
"Wow!" he breathes.
"So are we getting naked then?" I ask.
He pauses for a moment. "Yeah, let's do it," he says finally.
We strip down to our underpants. We flop down on the bed, gently kissing and stroking each other. I put my hand right on the front of his briefs. His cock's rock hard and throbbing beautifully.
"Stand up!" I tell him.
He get to his feet, standing in front of me so I can pull his underpants down. Completely naked he looks even better; I could eat him! I lean forward, moistening my lips, taking his stiff cock right into my mouth, sucking it nice and slow. He ruffles my hair; I suck a bit harder, not too hard though; I don't want him to cum yet. I'm not sure how much Mr. Atkinson will be able to see as Callum's got his back to him, but it doesn't matter; he'll see plenty when Callum bums me.
After a couple of minutes I let him go. We snuggle up on the bed. I let him take my underpants down, kicking them off so they land by the door. Fuck! This is way out! We kiss, we fondle, we suck; doing it here on the bed is just so much better than it is in one of our usual places. We move into a sixty-nine with Callum on top. I open my mouth as wide as I can, allowing his cock to go right into my throat. He doesn't pump it too much; I guess he's afraid he might cum if he overdoes it. He pulls my legs apart and slips his hand between them. I pull my knees up so my feet are flat on the bed to make it easier. He expertly works some lube into my bum. His fingers finally slide out and he lifts himself off me.
"Are we doing it face-to-face?" he asks, smearing lube over his cock.
"Nah, let's do it with me on all fours," I say, grinning at him. "I love it like that!"
I roll over and quickly get into position. Callum shuffles in behind me, guiding his cock onto my hole. With one well-practised thrust it goes right in. Yes! Yes! Yes!! I love it when he does it to me; it just feels, well, right somehow. He starts to pump, quickly settling into a nice rhythm. I moan quietly, urging him on, safe in the knowledge that the one person who's going to hear us probably wants to. The tingling in my dick builds and builds till it's almost unbearable; I've got to finish it, I just have to!
"Play with my cock!" I tell him.
He does as I ask. The effect is almost immediate; within a few seconds, my whole body's bucking like crazy, my bum gripping his cock like I'm trying to snap it off. My dick jerks into action, throbbing and pulsing between his fingers. After a few seconds Callum lets me go and gets back to bumming me even harder. It doesn't take him long; less than a minute later he starts gasping really hard. He tightens his grip around my thighs, plunging his cock right into me. It jerks wildly, sending several jets of boy-spunk squirting into my bum. He bends over, his heart thumping against my back as he slowly recovers. Fuck! I loved that! Doing it somewhere comfortable like this is so much better! After a minute or so, he gently pulls out.
"Did you like that?" I ask as we start to put our clothes on.
"Yeah, man," he says, smiling broadly. "That was the best!"
We finish dressing and quietly make our way out.
Finally we've got the sort of day I've been waiting for, warm with bright sunshine. It's a Saturday too, so there's a rugby match on this morning; we're playing against St. George's, one of our big local rivals. I won't be able to film it all; a reel of film only lasts about twenty minutes, so I'll have to be selective. At half time I'll go to the dark room to change the film. Mr. Chandler's going to help me with that. He's another of the teachers who lives in the gatehouse. He'll be there watching the rugby in any case; he always is.
The match begins at eleven o'clock, playing thirty minutes each way. I resist the temptation to start filming straight away; I just watch through the viewfinder, trying to get a feel for the shots I want. I guess I miss filming a couple of quite good bits, but that can't be helped. After about five minutes there's a scrum about fifteen yards in from the near touchline. It's our put-in too, and as we're playing right-to-left, that's from our side of the field. I set the camera rolling. I manage to get the whole thing pretty well, the ball coming out on our side and being passed along the back line before a crunching tackle goes in and the ball goes dead again. I'm starting to get into it, trying to judge when to film and when to stop. I get one really good sequence which ends with Russell scoring an amazing try right under the posts. I'm just hoping it'll come out okay. I run out of film just a couple of minutes before the whistle goes for half-time.
I follow Mr. Chandler to the science lab and into the dark room. He puts the red light on so that we won't damage the film.
"You were concentrating really hard there," he says, opening the camera to remove the exposed film.
"I had to," I say, grinning at him, "I've never done it before, but that's what I want to do, make films."
"Well, every journey begins with a single step," he tells me, ruffling my hair. "You'll have to keep working at it."
"I will," I say. "Sir, have you ever used a movie camera?"
"No; I do quite a bit of stills photography, but that's all."
We load the new reel of film and make our way back outside. The second half has just started. We take our position on the touchline and get ready for some more filming. Over the next half an hour I manage to get three good bits and some other stuff that's, well, not so good, and we win the match 20-12. I've still got to find out how the stuff I've got is going to come out, of course. It might all be really blurred and out of focus; I hope not! I'm going to have to wait till tomorrow to find out; that's when we're going to develop the film. Mr. Chandler's going to help me with that too; I can't wait.
We spend most of Sunday working on it. He's brilliant! He's so patient, showing me what to do and making sure I understand before letting me have a go myself. Once all the film's developed we cut it and splice it together to get rid of the rubbish bits. He's never done that before, just learns as we go along using this book he's got; that's amazing. Yeah, well most of the film I shot goes into the bin, but we end up with almost twelve minutes of good stuff, some of it very good actually, including Russell's try and a couple of scrums. They came out really well. It's a bit jerky where it goes from one bit to the next, but for a first attempt, I guess it's not bad.
"You've done very well, Toby," Mr Chandler says quietly. "Tomorrow after supper I'll get the rugby squad together and we'll show it to them."
"Thanks, sir!" I say, grinning broadly.
Before Monday supper set everything up in the science lab. We leave everything ready and head off to the refectory. I'm so nervous I hardly eat anything, which is not like me at all. I'm worried what they'll think about it. That's not like me either; usually I don't give a shit what people think. But this time it matters. I mean, there's no point in making a film if nobody wants to watch it, is there?
Afterwards we make our way back to the lab. Several of the team are already waiting to get in; I guess that's a good start. By half past seven we've got the whole team, plus Mr. Cooper, who's our games teacher and the main rugby coach and several other boys who weren't even playing. Mr. Chandler calls everyone to order.
"As some of you know," he says, "last Saturday Toby Redman made a film of your match against St. George's. Yesterday, Toby and I put together a little highlights show for you. It lasts just over ten minutes, so let's have your full attention."
He turns off the light and starts the film. I know straight away that it's going well; there was no need for him to have asked for their attention; they're glued to it! There's no fidgeting or foot shuffling; just twenty-odd boys totally spellbound by what's happening on the screen in front of them. At the end there's a round of applause, not polite applause because they think they have to, genuine, spontaneous applause.
"Well done, young man!" Mr. Cooper says gruffly, ruffling my hair. "I hope you're going to do some of the athletics in the summer, sports day especially. That could be really good."
"Thanks sir," I say, "I'll do that if the weather's okay."
"Great stuff, Toby!" team captain Henry Jarvis says, shaking hands with me. "That's much better than my dad can do with his movie camera, and he's been doing it for years."
"Thanks!" I say, grinning at him.
I'm a bit overwhelmed by it all; I'm not used to having people tell me how well I've done. Getting praised by someone like Henry, one of the school's stars, now that is something else. But the most important thing is that it was for doing something that I wanted to do. I've succeeded on my own terms; I like that.
I knock on the door of the trunk room. Mr. Atkinson opens it and I slip quietly inside. We sit on the trunk, the same as we always do.
"Well, sir," I ask, smirking at him. "Did you enjoy the show?"
"You bet I did!" he says, squeezing me round the shoulders. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen! And you were enjoying yourselves too, by the sound of things. I haven't seen to boys doing it like that since I was at prep school. I have to rely on things like this most of the time."
He gets up and moves behind the trunks we're sitting in front of. There's a whirring sound and pictures appear on the wall facing us. I can't believe what I'm seeing. Two boys are lying on a bed, both totally naked. One's about my age, the other one is tall and quite slim. He's got a big cock with lots of hair round it. I'd say he's thirteen or fourteen but it's hard to tell. They're both hard. They lie there, kissing and groping each other; I can't take my eyes off them. Over the next few minutes they do EVERYTHING! It finishes with the younger kid down on all fours, while the older boy kneels behind him, fucking him up the arse. My dick's gone so hard it almost hurts; I'd no idea people made films like that! Right at the end, it looks like the older kid's spunking up the younger boy's bum before slowly pulling out, but they don't show it properly so it's hard to tell.
The pictures disappear. Mr. Atkinson gets up and rewinds the film then sits back down. He's got the film in a plastic case. The words 'Color Climax Corporation' and an address in Copenhagen are on the front.
"Did you enjoy that?" he asks, stroking my legs.
"It was okay," I say casually. "Is that the school projector?"
"No," he says, grinning and starting to undress me. "I wouldn't risk taking that; someone might start asking questions. This is my own."
"Oh," I say casually.
My mind's racing. I could do that! I'd film them right here; it'd be ideal. I'd need proper lights, of course, but I was going to ask Uncle Andrew to buy me some for my next birthday in any case, and I'm sure some of the other kids would be up for being in them. Making our own porn films right here in school, what a gas that'd be!
"So where did you get the film, sir?"
"At a shop in Amsterdam," he says, pulling my shirt off. "You can get just about anything there. You can buy them mail order too."
"So how much do they cost?" I ask as I take my shoes off.
"Well, I paid eighty guilders for that one; that's the equivalent of twenty pounds," he tells me.
I do a quick calculation. If they're selling them mail order at twenty pounds a time, even if they only sell five hundred, that's ten thousand pounds. Now they've got to produce the films, pay for postage and advertising, and pay the people who made the film in the first place, but even so, it sounds like a very profitable business. There's an opportunity here, I know there is; I've just got to think out exactly how to go about it.
"Are you okay, Toby?" Mr. Atkinson asks, as he pulls down my underpants.
"Oh, yes sir!" I say absently. I was so wrapped up in the possibility of making our own porn films I'd almost forgotten where I was. I go through all our usual stuff like I'm in a trance; my mind's so far away I nearly make him cum in my mouth. Finally we're ready. I grab one the pillows, put it on the old desk and bend down over it. Ten seconds later his cock's right up my bum. For once, I'm not thinking 'I wish I didn't have to do this'. As he starts bumming me I let my imagination run wild. It's not me that's bent over this desk, it's Dominic; Russell's standing behind him, fucking him stupid, slamming his big cock into him as hard as he can. I'm crouched down at the side, filming the whole thing. Man that it far out!
I'm suddenly aware of fingers playing with my dick. The effect it the same as it always is; in a matter of seconds the muscle spasms sweep over me like a tidal wave, my dick jumping around with a life of it's own, trying to pump out the spunk my balls aren't making yet. Mr. Atkinson's going wild; bumming me like it's the last chance he'll ever get. And d'you know what? I love it! He plunges into me one final time, his cock swelling and jerking deep inside me as he fills me with his cum.
After around half a minute he slowly pulls out.
"Well, Toby!" he whispers, "I think you really enjoyed yourself today!"
I let him clean me up then start to get dressed. I don't want to admit it, but he's absolutely right.
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