Hartswood Priory - Toby's Story
by Pink Panther
Chapter 26
I've been working at filming indoors for months, getting used to where to position the lights, how close in I can get with the camera, everything. I've been reading up on stuff too, little tricks like using chalk so that the people you're filming know exactly where they need to be; that's called hitting your marks. I've filmed in the dorm a few times. Martin loves being filmed;he always poses for me, always gets a hard-on too. I still don't know who he's going with, but he's not really a mate so it's not really any of my business. I'm curious, though; I mean, like you're not.
So as far as the camera work goes, I'm ready, or as ready as I'm going to be. I've got the filming all planned out too; broken down into scenes so I don't have to shoot it all at once. Now I've got to do the hard part; persuading a couple of kids to be in it. Martin would go for it like a shot, but as I've no idea who he's going with, that doesn't help much. In any case, it's probably someone in Upper Fourth, and I don't really want any of them to find out what I'm up to. But that presents another problem; I want the kid doing the bumming to be able to cum, and the only kid in our year that I know can do it is Rob. So it'll have to be Rob, and if it has to be Rob, it might as well be Peter as well; I'm pretty sure he'll go for it if Rob does.
Right, so I'm going to have to ask him. That's not going to be easy. Rob's the best mate I'll ever have, but he's far more cautious and sensible than I am. I'm going to have to talk him into it. That means I'll need to think pretty carefully about what I say. If it sounds like I'm going off at half-cock and haven't thought about it properly there's no way he'll agree. Well, I have thought about it, a lot, working out exactly how we'll do it. Even so, he's bound to come up with something I haven't thought of; he always does. That's good, to be honest; he's stopped me making an idiot of myself more than once. So I fix it up, Sunday morning after chapel. We're not doing anything then, and unless it's pissing down with rain we'll probably have the dorm to ourselves.
We sit on my bed, which is right in the corner furthest from the door. We'll get plenty of warning if anyone does walk in on us.
"So what's it all about?" Rob asks.
"I've got a scheme that could make us some money if it works out," I tell him.
"Yeah, carry on," he says.
"You know I told you about Mr. Atkinson taking me to the trunk store?" I say. "Well, a few times when we were there he showed me these films, porno films with boys about our age in them, doing - you know. They were okay, but the camera work wasn't anything special."
"Fuck! Really?" he responds, eyes widening.
"They were made by this company in Denmark; seems it's quite legal there. I got the name and address off the boxes the films were in. But they don't do the actual filming; they buy the original negative from whoever's made the film in the first place, then they process it and sell the copies. Well I could make a film like that, better probably; all I need is a couple of kids to be in it. We could make quite a bit of money if you're interested; you and Peter - you know."
"Shit man!" he breathes. "I don't know. How much d'you think we could get?"
"A couple of hundred each," I say casually. "We could probably get more, but it's best if we don't look too greedy."
"Two hundred?" he gasps. "That's real money, man! So where do they sell them?"
"Mail order, mainly; sell them all over the world."
"I don't know, man," he says looking apprehensive. "Suppose some guys in this country bought them; someone might recognise us."
Shit! I knew he's think of something I hadn't!
"Good point," I say. "We'll have to get them to agree not to sell them here. It's easy enough; they must print their catalogue in several languages; they just don't put it on the English version. If they don't agree we don't do the deal."
"But how d'you know they won't just process the film and sell it anyway?" he asks. "They might not even pay us."
"They won't have the film at that stage," I say, smiling at him. "We'll start by making four twenty-second clips; far too short to be any use to them. We send them those, just to show we're genuine, and we put the deal to them. Then we wait for them to get back to us. If they agree, we make the film and send it to them."
"They could still cheat us out of the money they said they'd pay us," he says.
"True," I say, "but I don't think they would. Why should they? They're going to make plenty of money anyway. And in any case, I'll tell them that if the first one goes okay, we can make some more with different boys in them. Well, we obviously won't do that if they don't pay us."
"Shit, man!" he whispers. "Well, you seem to have it all worked out and I could certainly use the money, but it's pretty heavy; I'd never have dreamed of doing anything like that. Are you sure it'll be okay?"
"How long have we been mates?" I ask, grinning at him.
"Well, since we started here," he says.
"Exactly," I say. "And have I ever dropped you in the shit?"
"No," he admits.
"Well, trust me then; it's going to be cool."
"Okay," he says. "I'll ask Peter. I'm seeing him after supper."
"And tell him to keep his mouth shut," I say. "You know what he's like. If anyone finds out what we're up to we willget fried!"
I put my hand out. We shake on it.
I wander out onto the playing field and sit on one of the benches. That was easier than I'd expected; it's surprising what the prospect of making some real money can do. Rob's parents aren't rich in any case; the army pays for him to come here because his dad has to move around so much. The cross-country team are out training; Sunday morning is the one time that they train and we don't. As they head across from the far side of the field I can see Craig right at the front with someone running next to him. At that moment they're too far away for me to make out who it is, but as they get closer I can see that it's Ashton Hayes.
I wonder why he's doing that; it seems odd. It's not that he isn't good at it; in fact he's very good. Last summer he won the fifteen hundred metres on sports day, and won it by a long way. But he plays outside centre in the rugby team, so he can't run in any of the races they go to because they always clash with our rugby matches. And in the summer he'll be the opening bowler for the cricket team, so he's not going to get much chance to race then either. I guess he must enjoy it; that's weird! They run past me and disappear into the pavilion.
I sit there a while longer basking in the early spring sunshine, planning out the next stage of my project. I'm pretty sure Peter will agree to do it; I hope he does. I'll need to make sure I brief them properly so they know exactly what we're going to do; we won't have time to film anything twice. I run through it all in my head; now I need to write it down to make sure I don't forget anything when I'm telling them. I check my watch. It's ten to eleven; time to go, I've got some prep to do. I need a piss first. The pavilion's still open; I might as well go there.
I walk through the changing room that the runners have been using. The place is empty and everything's completely quiet, but there are two sets of clothes there waiting for someone to put them on. That strikes me as odd too. I stroll into the shower area; there's nobody there either. I'm on full alert now; there's something going on. As quietly as I can, I make my way into the boys' room. One of the stalls is occupied, just as I expected. I stand there, tuning my ears. The sounds are quiet but unmistakeable. I creep into the other stall and silently bolt the door. Very gingerly I stand on the seat and look over the partition. Martin's bent over the toilet; Ashton's standing behind him, fucking him stupid. So that's why he was there! He does have a big one too; nearly as big as Russell's, and on a slim kid like him it looks huge. Martin seems to like it though.
I climb down and make my way out before they notice me watching them. Man! That was hot! It was funny too, in a way. Piecing together what Giles and Peter told us, it seems that Deon, Ashton's little brother, is getting bummed by Jonathan Moore. I wonder if he knows.
It's just past midnight. I'm lying in bed trying to get to sleep. It's weird; some nights I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, but other nights I can't get to sleep at all. With the prospect of making my first porn film coming up, I guess I've got a lot to think about at the moment. I can't get my mind off Martin either, seeing him getting bummed like that. Man! That was something else!
On the other side of the dorm, Rob's in bed with William. They're fucking; I can hear them. I can't believe how sexy Rob's got over the past few months; he wants to fuck every chance he gets. When he's finished just now he won't go back to his own bed. They'll sleep together then he'll bum him again when they wake up. Fuck! I'm as hard as a chocolate frog! I could just have a wank, but ---- .
I've had another of my mad ideas. I get out of bed, get the KY out of my locker and walk noiselessly past Rob's empty bed to Martin's on the other side. I pause for a moment to let my eyes get used to the dark. Martin's lying on his side facing towards Paul Barnes bed. Paul can sleep through anything. He's even slept through a couple of thunder storms, really bad ones, so I don't think I've got too many problems there.
I make my way between Rob's bed and Martin's and slip in behind him. I snuggle right up. I love feeling him close to me like this. He's sleeping in briefs and a tee-shirt. I run my hand over his bum. Oh, yeah, I want some of that! I wrap my arm round him, allowing my hand to slide over the front of his briefs. He's hard too, not that that's a surprise. I take a deep breath, enjoying his smell. It makes me harder than ever, my cock jabbing into his arse. He's still asleep. I run my hand under his tee-shirt and play with his right nipple.
"Uhhh, ohhh!!" he groans.
"It's okay," I whisper. "It's me, Toby."
"What are you doing here?" he breathes.
"I thought you might like some company," I say. "I saw you in the showers the other night. You've been bummed, haven't you?"
"Yeah, so what?" he replies dismissively. "You have too. Rob bummed you this morning; I saw him."
That comes as a bit a surprise, but I guess it shouldn't. It was getting light while we were doing it; we weren't being that quiet either. Well, I guess that makes the score one-all.
"He's sleeping with Will at the moment," I tell him.
"He can sleep with me any time he wants," he says, turning to face me. "He's hot!"
"So what about me?" I ask.
"Well, you're here, aren't you?" he says, sounding bored. "I haven't tried to kick you out, have I?"
"Cool," I reply. "That's nice!"
I run my hand over the front of his briefs, feeling his cock, rock hard and throbbing. I put my fingers in the waistband. He raises his hips so I can pull them off. His cock's slimmer than mine and not quite as long, but he won't be twelve till next month so it's not bad. I rest my head on his tummy and take it into my mouth, sucking it gently. He strokes my hair. I squeeze some KY onto my fingers then push my hand between his legs. I find his bum-hole and push in; he feels messy. That's a surprise; it's been over twelve hours since I saw Ashton bumming him in the pavilion toilets, maybe he's done it again since. I let him go.
"Can I bum you?" I whisper.
"Yeah, if you want," he says casually. "Let's get your pants off, then!"
He pulls my underpants down and wraps his fingers round my dick.
"That's a nice one!" he says. "Can you cum?"
"Yeah," I whisper.
"Cool!" he says, "How d'you want me?"
"On your tummy!" I breathe.
I grab the pillow and put it in the middle of the bed. He lies on top of it with his bum sticking up. He spreads his legs. I quickly smear some KY over my dick and lower myself onto him. He holds his cheeks apart, helping me to guide it right onto his hole. One firm push and it goes right up him. He's still pretty tight, despite all the attention Ashton's been giving him, and man, he's as hot as hell. I start to fuck him, burying my cock as deep as it'll go. I fuck him harder, ploughing into him with everything I've got. Beneath me, he's moaning and gasping, loving every second of it. I'm getting close; a couple more thrusts and everything goes fuzzy. I plunge right into him as my balls fire into action. A moment later my spunk's spurting over and over into his arse. I lie right on top of him gasping for breath, my heart pounding against his spine. Wow! There's no such thing as a bad fuck, but he's fantastic. The ninth boy I've bummed, and he's as good as any of them, pretty much. I slowly ease myself off him. He rolls onto his back.
"Suck me off!" he whispers.
Most of the other boys I've bummed have dry-cummed while I've been up them. He hasn't, but it's not a problem. I go straight down on him, sucking him right down to the base. It only takes a few seconds. He grabs my head as his cock swells and jerks in my mouth. Man! That was hot! I pause for us to get our breath back.
"Thanks," I say, giving him a peck on the cheek. "That was something else!"
"Cool!" he says. "Well, I guess we'd better get some sleep."
I swing my feet onto the floor and pad noiselessly back to my bed.
Peter went for the idea without even thinking about it. That's no surprise; he's like that. Over the past few days I've moved the camera and the lights down to the trunk store. I had to be very careful doing that; if anyone had seen me they might have asked some pretty awkward questions. So now we're ready. I've briefed Rob and Peter; they know exactly what to do. The first scene is probably he hardest. We start with Peter already with his shirt off, helping Rob remove his. Then they pull each other's shorts down and feel each other in their briefs. Finally Rob pulls down Peter's briefs so the kid's cock comes springing into view. That's a lot to fit into twenty seconds. They take up their positions. I check the shot.
"Action!" I say.
They go through it perfectly; from behinds the camera it's looking just the way I hoped it would. It finishes with a great shot of Peter's dick as Rob pulls his briefs down.
"Cut!" I call.
It's overrun by four or five seconds, but that won't matter; we've got the difficult one out of the way. We move onto scene two; by contrast, this is the easy one. They're on the bed, naked. Rob's lying on his back; Peter's resting his head on Rob's tummy and sucking his cock. I don't even need twenty seconds; I call "Cut!" a few seconds early. Scene three's a bit more complicated. Peter's sitting on the bed, back against the wall, his legs spread apart. Rob's kneeling in front of him sucking his cock. After a few seconds Peter pulls his knees up and Rob pushes his finger into Peter's bum, working it in and out.
"Cut!" I say. "Let's take a quick break."
I kill the lights to let the room cool down. So far so good; they've done everything perfectly. It's stuff they do all the time, of course, but not with the lights and the camera are on them.
"Great stuff, lads," I say quietly. "You've done fantastic; they're going to love it."
We all take a swig of water; Rob and Peter towel off; we're all sweaty after only a couple of minutes filming. I quickly run through the final scene.
"When I call cut, you just carry on," I tell them. "It just means I'm not filming any more. We don't want them seeing too much unless they're going to pay us for it."
I turn on the lights and they take their positions on the bed, Peter down on all fours, Rob behind him, sitting back on his heels.
"Action!" I call.
The film starts to roll. Rob smears some KY onto his dick then gets up onto his knees. He moves in close. I move around slightly to get the best view of Rob's dick pushing into Peter's bum, getting in close as they start to fuck.
"Cut!" I call.
I switch off the lights and start to put everything away. On the bed, Rob's pounding Peter's arse like there's no tomorrow. Man! That is hot! I'm rock hard just watching them.
"Oh! Oh!! Ohhh!!" Peter moans, his body bucking wildly.
"Nnnng!!" Rob responds "Oh fuck!! Aaaarrgggghh!!!"
He grabs Peter round the hips, unloading his spunk into his younger friend's bum. Fuck! I hope they do it as well as that when we do it for real! Rob slowly pulls out and gets off the bed. I immediately take his place, pushing my shorts and briefs down to my knees. I don't need lube; I just stick it straight in.
"Ohhh!" Peter groans.
I start to fuck him, reaching down to play with his rapidly hardening cock. I'm so sexed up after watching them do it, it only takes a couple of minutes. My balls pull up tight in their sac. I grab him round the hips, slamming right into him.
"Ohhhh!" I gasp. "I'm gonna cum! Take it Peter; take my spunk! Nnnnng!!"
My cock jerks and pulses inside his hot little bum, three or four wads of spunk spurting into him. I take my time before pulling out. Spunk is oozing out of Peter's bum and dribbling down his legs. I'm going to get a shot of that the next time we do this. I get off the bed and quickly pull up my briefs and shorts.
Peter cleans himself up and gets dressed. I turn off the main ceiling light, using just my safety light to take the film out of the camera and put it into its box ready to be sent to Denmark. We tidy the room, leaving everything where it should be, and make our way out. That's the first part done.
I show Rob the letter I've written.
"It's very good," he says, "but they're bound to know it's a kid that wrote it; the handwriting gives it away."
"Yeah, but so what?" I respond. "They want films they can sell; I don't think they care who makes them."
"Well, I guess we'll have to see," Rob says, not sounding at all confident.
I get it all packed up. The next time I go into town I'll go into the post office and send it. Then like he says, we'll just have to wait and see.
It's the last Saturday of term, our final rugby match of the season. We've done well. After losing away to Queen Elizabeth's early on, we lost to them 19-22 at home, just one penalty kick separating the teams. We also lost 16-18 away at Martlington County Grammar School, so our record for the season stands played seventeen, won fourteen, lost three.
Well, today we've got them at home, and we're determined to put that right. It's going to be a tough match, Martlington's a big school with over a hundred boys a year to choose from, but we held them so close when we played them last term we're confident we can do it. Mr. Halford even announced it in assembly, asking as many boys as possible to come out and support. We usually get about twenty kids watching, younger friends of some of the boys in the team plus about the same number who just enjoy watching the game. I wonder how many we'll get today.
Now I have to honest here; part of the reason for our success has been Jeremy. I know I don't like him and I think he's a snob, but he's captained the team pretty well, very well in fact. If someone makes a mistake, he never criticises them, he'll just say, "Right, forget it lads, let's get back at them!" and that's an end of it. If we concede a try he'll say, "Okay lads, now lets get one back!" and most of the time we do. At the end of our matches he speaks to everyone in the team, even me, just to say "Well played," or "You did really well today," or something like that. I guess Mr. Cooper's helped him quite a bit, telling him what he needed to do and that; even so, he's done far better than I thought he would.
We stride out onto the field. There must be at least sixty kids ranged along the touchlines. Wow! Almost all the teachers are there too, even Mr Chambers, the Headmaster, and we neversee him! The whistle goes and we're off. The match is the most intense I've ever played in; I guess they want to win as much as we do, but having so many kids out there shouting for us is a real boost. Even so, we're not able to dominate the way we often do. We edge ahead; they peg us back. At half time, we're leading 12-10.
They kick off for the second half; thirty minutes to go, and the most important thirty minutes any of us has ever played. The intensity level is unbelievable. Scores are traded back and forth with no quarter asked and none given. Man! This is a real rugby match! Less than five minutes to go; everyone is desperately tired. Our defence cracks; we let them in for a try under the posts. They're now three points ahead; the routine conversion kick makes it five. Jeremy rallies the troops; there's still time. We throw everything at them. With time running out we win a scrum fifteen yards from their goal line, ten yards in from the left hand touchline. It's probably our last chance. We win the ball. I spin it out to Julian. In the best bit of running and handling we've managed all season, the ball goes quickly across our three quarter line to Jonathan on the right wing. They're just as tired as we are; Jon finds an extra turn of speed just when he needs it most, crashing over for a try in the corner.
We're now one point behind and time is up; as soon as the conversion kick has been taken, the referee will blow for full-time. If it goes over, we'll have won by one point; if it doesn't they've won. For the past few matches Paz has taken the kicks at goal from this side of the field. He can't kick the ball as far as Julian does, but he's left-footed, making the kick much easier to judge. As far as I remember, he's only missed one out of half a dozen or so, but those were in matches we were winning easily; he's never had to cope with this sort of pressure. Jeremy has a quiet word with him, asking him if he's okay to take it. He nods. This is it. He places the ball then takes a few paces back. He stands there for a few seconds, composing himself. I can hardly bear to watch. He runs in and strokes it perfectly, right between the posts. What a star! We've won 29-28.
The referee blows for full time and the crowd erupts; Paz gets mobbed. Then we all get mobbed; you'd think we'd just won something really important. I guess we did; winning fifteen matches out of eighteen makes this the best season the school's ever had. More than that, we proved that when the pressure was really on, we could perform. Everyone's played their part today, all fifteen of us. I'll never forget this match as long as I live.
As we leave the field, Jeremy's there, shaking hands with each of us in turn.
"Well done today," he says to me, "and thanks for all your hard work through the season; it's been great."
"Thanks," I say quietly.
Finally he comes to Rob.
"Well, we did it," he says, grasping Rob's hand, "the best season ever. This is all yours now; it's quite a bit to live up to. Good luck!"
We head back into the changing rooms, strip off and make for the showers. We're as high as kites, the whole lot of us, quickly forgetting how tired we are. We break into a rousing chorus of our favourite rugby song:
(to the tune of 'John Peel')
Cats on rooftops, cats on tiles,
Cats with syphilis, cats with piles,
Cats with arseholes wreathed in smiles,
They all revel in the joys of fornication!
I wouldn't say it's encouraged exactly, but it's 'traditional'. For once it's a tradition I don't actually mind.
I've been checking every day. Well, it's finally arrived. I take it back to the dorm and put it in my locker. I'm itching to open it, but that doesn't seem fair somehow. I head out onto the playground. Rob's with the rest of the gang, just hanging out as usual. Shit! That means I'll have to wait. Finally I get him on his own.
"I've had a letter," I say quietly.
"You mean theletter," he responds.
"Yeah."
"You opened it?" he asks.
"No, you've just as much right to see what it says as I have," I tell him. "We'll go to the dorm as soon as we've had lunch, okay?"
"Sure," he says.
I take the letter from my locker. We sit on the bed. I open the envelope and remove its contents. We read through it. They really like the clips; describing them as 'high quality', and they've agreed to everything we asked for. They won't sell it mail-order in this country; they won't sell it in the sex-shops either. For the title of the film they'll use German names, Carsten and Franz, so nobody will know where the boys come from, and they'll pay us two hundred pounds each, with the cheques made out in sterling.
All the colour has drained from Rob's face, like he'd expected them to tell us to fuck off. But they haven't. I don't think I've ever seen him looking so nervous, like he was about to go to the dentist to have a back tooth pulled out. I know he doesn't really want to do it; I guess he thought he wouldn't have to. But he won't let me down; he'd rather die than do that. This evening I'll write back and tell them; we'll make the film as soon as we get back after the holiday.
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