Auto da Fe (Act of Faith)

I stood by young Jeremy, a look of puzzled annoyance playing across my well formed features. He didn’t notice as he was asleep, his head on one hand, the other hand loosely akimbo by his side where, on its descent, it had also knocked a ball point pen, his instruction manual and-unused-two condoms which seemed to have fallen from the book of instruction but, I knew, had no relationship-clearly, or why did he have them? Knew how to use condoms, but in the manual….well, come test time, we’d find out.

I put one finger over my lips, revolved so that the other nine students-this was an upper level class-could see me, withdrew it and said in my usual, easily hearable urbane voice, “This next bit will be on your test, I promise you that and I also promise that not to have an answer, any answer, I don’t care how dumb it is, will cause you, not me, great distress.” I returned to the front of the room, stood by the portable lectern and said, “Here is something from which you will have to extract an answer, ‘How many sheep in this room just now have anthrax?’ “ More quiet laughter. “Just remember as, I promise you, there will be something on the test”….and continued my lecture, today on the post Moorish period in Spain.

Three weeks later young Jeremy stood in my office, red faced with anger and holding a blue test book on which, in my own hand, was written a large, underscored, “F”. He stared at me-not well but, as his life went on perhaps he’d take up with criminals who could and would teach him “The Stare” its uses and applications. He was also livid, an unattractive quality in the young.

“This is unfair, I miss one question, one dumb….it’s not even a question…and you fail me….I might not get into grad school….”

“I can assure you, you won’t. To gain entry you’d have to go through me and I can and would make sure your admittance was not granted.”

He slammed his fist on my desk. “I’ll take this and you to ‘Exceptions’, they’ll laugh you out of the room. I Guar-An-Tee it.”

I held up a small recording device, already turned on, and he listened while it played a moment from a lecture in which I’d specifically said…well, you know what I said, only he did not.

I like the young when they sputter, especially if they’re young males, nicely built and, just then, wearing very little save some trainers, socks, probably a jock, split side shorts and the remnants of a Tank Top. And several necklaces. (I wondered, idly, if they were heavy enough to sink him if he fell in a deep patch of water?) “Comment?”

“You fucker, I’ll still take you to exceptions….” and marched out giving me a nice view of a retreating bubble butt-something I saved on my camera phone…also being call a ‘fucker’. I felt exceptions needed to hear that as well.

Two weeks later outside a just concluded meeting of the Exceptions Committee young Jeremy was slumped against the wall, probably examining his fate, educationally, having been laughed at and told that, nope, he was wrong and the good Doctor was sustained in his actions. That was the moment to shut up and try and salvage something, anything but…he chose to bring up my threat to keep him from Grad school. I admitted to it and pointed out that if he couldn’t stay awake in a mandatory class and follow very specific instructions, I referred to the recording they’d just heard then…my only conclusion had to be that Grad school would prove taxing beyond his abilities. Case dismissed….

..but with one very small crumb thrown at his flip flop clad tanned toes; IF he could work something out with the Professor, then they would revisit the issue for reconsideration. Full stop, meeting over, all in the room stood each of us going our separate ways.

I stood in front of him so his downward looking eyes, apparently counting the linoleum tiles on the floor, and waited for…something, didn’t meet mine.

“Doc, uh….” I let the too familiar styling of my title pass. “Uh, Doc, uh, they said that if I could, you know….”

“No, Jeremy, I don’t know but it’s your ass so it’s up to you to pitch the deal to me that will save your aforementioned ass….they gave you that possibility but, think about this, they also left the door open to push you through and out if I said no.”

He head dipped even further; Now he was looking at the buttons on his shirt; Any further bend and he’d need, at minimum, a good masseur or a Chiropractor to straighten the cervicles. ”I’ll make you a sporting wager, you don’t have to tell me now but in 24 hours, come to my home and tell me how you think you can extricate yourself.” I took out my billfold, extracted a card, handed it to him then wrote on the back ‘6pm Tomorrow’. No point in putting the date, if he didn’t know when tomorrow was, he shouldn’t be any place offering education. He walked away, one word, that I could understand drifting back, ‘okay’ plus some other words I didn’t quite hear but could probably figure out.

Having dealt with the young I knew that there was one more something, what? And here it came. He turned, fifty feet away, “Hey, Doc, I got Rugby practice, I gotta go home and shower so I’ll prob’ly be late.”

“Not a problem, bring a change out set of clothes and you can use my downstairs shower.” I could see the hesitation however, he was already in deeper than his chin to the point that one more evasion, of any sort, and he’d be up to his nose in shit. I smiled and approximated a wave, that is, it might have looked like a wave, say fifty feet away, but it was my own form of giving him the finger.

Zeke came a little after four so we could get me in a really good, form enhancing work out in my nicely equipped home gym. Clad only in a jock and some socks, my Doctoral figure looked more like something that fell off a Grecian frieze. Shaved from my crew cut head to toe save for a straight line that marked a treasure trail from my navel to the top of my nicely rounded cock. Nice pecs, six pack, lean waist, thighs you could crush nuts with….not the pleasant professor who stood, his horn rimmed half glasses perched on his nose being excited about what he was teaching….unless you were sleeping.

Right at the end Zeke, to quote a popular phrase, pumped me up by injecting each ball with a good amount of saline, just before I jumped into the shower then dressed to meet Jeremy, afterward, wearing only just the barest light coating of oil… Or, to put it another way, to let Jeremy meet the professor he did not know existed. This was informal so…socks, comfortable New Balance trainers, swimmer’s jock-bulging with those newly enhanced nuts- all topped by a body builders T shirt, the kind that was cut down to the waist, the V neck to the navel…..you’ve seen them, you know what I mean. And, the final touch, Zeke touched up various areas with studio makeup to enhance that which was already pretty damn good. Was I ready for Jeremy? Or, the more interesting question, was Jeremy ready for me?

Doorbell, I yelled it was open, come on in; I knew who it was. Sounds of him crossing the short foyer, on to the carpeting where he stopped seeing only a head, mine, above a high backed couch facing a fireplace and away from him. Like an Indian Fakir doing the old Hindi rope trick, I unwound as I turned around never taking my eyes from him, watching, seeing his reaction to meeting version 2 of the professor in whose hands his whole academic career were held. Big hands, strong hands, hands that could crush him educationally not to mention physically. Just for the hell of it, I tossed in a lat spread making it look as if I was stretching having sat too long. He dropped his gym bag.

“Come in, Jeremy, thanks for being prompt and….I do believe I offered you my shower. Uh, ZEKE, got a client for the rain room.” Zeke stuck his head in the room? “Sorry, I didn’t catch that…”

“Over there, that young man, sweaty from…..Rugby?...you know, ‘give blood, play Rugby’”. Zeke and I laughed, Jeremy, still almost catatonic, staring at me, did not. We paused, waiting for him to pick up the action which…he didn’t seem to be able to do.

“Hey, Jeremy, the Doc said you want a shower, come on, kid, it’s this way.” Maybe aliens had taken over motor control of his body as he turned toward some sound neither of us heard and walked rather smartly into a wall. The thud as he hit the floor wasn’t all that sickening, didn’t sound like he broke anything. I waved at Zeke to come collect him, take him away then get him washed and waxed, let me know when he was ready for inspection; He had some tires and I was the man to kick them, prior to that, Zeke could open his engine and plunge in his dip stick…checking how deep it was before you got to oil.

Waiting for Jeremy to be ‘done’ and therefore ready for inspection, I recalled his day in class, his day in court/exceptions and now this day when he would attempt to ‘earn his stripes’ or, to put it another way, his way back into higher education by taking a lower path. Did I plan to fuck him? Maybe eventually but…since it was in a history class he’d fallen from the mother ship and his chute didn’t open, I was going to get that chute opened plus toss in a view of learning

few ever have, experiential history. As I poked through a selection of magazines, all of which I would read at some point, I wondered whether I or Zeke should tell him that, in effect, the cat just peed on his homework? Nah, Zeke did so well with the young, let him point it out.

Every professor knows that the book bags or whatever that students lug around are a treasure trove of their personal, private lives and, thanks to better living through electricity, if you had their phone, you had their life in your hand. A buddy, who taught computer science, had shown me how to gain entry to almost any hand held device so, using that valuable instruction-one is never to old to learn-I sauntered over to the canvas bag on the floor, affixed with some fraternity emblem, picked it up, extracted his ‘communicator’, hung the bag from a newel post then sat down to review Jeremy’s life on the small screen.

I’ll say this for the kid, he was as thorough a recorder of his (occasionally boring) life as one would be likely to find. However, not all of it was boring, the lad, I could not help but notice, was into sexting not to mention a series of ‘snaps’ taken at what I presumed was a frat party round pound. One little cord from his walkie talkie to my computer and zzzip, I could review whatever other activities he’d might have pursued at my leisure; Something told me his activities with the bros at the frat were only a small part of what his testosterone fueled ego and psyche had done.

There was a yelp from wherever Zeke had taken Jeremy to clean him off. No scream, just a yelp indicating there was no cherry to be popped, just the surprise of sex with a larger, sexually enhanced man and not one of his age. Certainly I’ve known some gifted amateurs that hadn’t yet hit 18 or 20, and one spectacularly gifted young man of 13….So Jeremy was no virgin. In a way I was a bit sorry, not that I gave a damn, arranged this so Zeke had first fuck, his history lesson was yet to come. Also, as young Jeremy was now finding, those a bit older, stronger and hornier, fuck the young with no consideration as to their youth or inexperience; Had Jeremy been wise he would have seen what he was getting as instructional and learn from it; That wouldn’t happen but in Pangloss’s best of all possible worlds it’s what should occur.

A thought went through my mind; Why not have this be an illustrated lesson, after all, one picture is worth…etc. Thinking of that, I took his cell phone, grabbed a cord that connected it to my printer, did some further research in what was on his line, made a file then hit ‘Print’. Oh, Jerry, my buddy who teaches comp. sci. you’ll never know how grateful I am for all the time you spent, I almost said painfully, teaching me the ins and out of all the new and complicated electronic gadgets. Every blow job you extracted, every sport fuck, so worth it and, gotta be honest, Jerry was willing to reciprocate giving new meaning to the term, ‘learning experience’. Will I replace anyone in I.T? No…but….I’ll be quite a lot ahead of the young, the stupid, those to whom their phone with all its ‘apps’ was their lifeline; Not all ‘apps’ can be down loaded, some ‘apps’ are real, physical and transient. Shame some of his cohorts couldn’t be here to find, in color and sound, what a mistake that could be; Rather like a secret, it’s only safe with you so long as you tell no one and Jeremy, the little putz, couldn’t keep his mouth shut. At least for now.

The concept of having some of his sex partners, as lavishly illustrated in his phone, here to learn and observe, possibly even take a turn, learn something or some way new…but, as the Irish would say, that was ‘romancin’ an event that would not happen. At least not in real time however…coming from the ether an into an unexpected ‘app’ near you would be selected parts of the whole event.

But I was not the first as his history showed to whom he’d sent various and sundry and, my favorite, their responses. Naturally, I fully intended to add some more photographic studies of Jeremy which, only polite thing to do, he/I would share with those he’d already ‘shared’ previous exploits; No reason they shouldn’t have the fuller, more complete collection.

Now there was a scream, at least a modest one, which suggested Zeke had rolled the body and was giving our guest an oral guide to cock and ball servicing. Or maybe he was just taking a leak, hard to know; At least the screaming stopped.

Pleasant as this speculation was, it was time for me to join in, start the lesson plan and make sure that he learned something. Reluctantly, I shed the comfortable clothes I wore around the house in exchange for some Dockers, web belt, Argyle socks, some expensive slip ons, button down collar shirt, Hermes ties under a well cut navy blazer. Adding the horn rims and there I was the haute professor replacing the hot professor about to go into the class room and implement my lesson plan.

As I’d thought, Zeke had young Jeremy face up, mouth open with a good sized cock going down his throat. Click, snap, send. Closer inspection revealed that, yep, kinda what I thought, a nice stream of buttery yellow was going down-Click, snap, send his throat. Not sufficiently experienced-yet-in being a toilet, much of Zeke’s piss had got all over his face, in his hair, some even made it as far as the down on his chest; In ten years he’d be more than a teddy bear and, I’d have bet, his back, if he laid down, could serve as a warm bath mat. However I thought of him, as a service tool was increasingly positive role for him to take. Click, zip, send, Click zip, send, walked around the table to get an artistic shot of the overflow going into his light brown hair then on to the floor. Under other circumstances I would have had him, indeed he would have expected, to lick it up but, not today. Click zip send.

The sight of me, even peripherally and assuming the uric acid in his eyes still allowed clear vision, came as a surprise; Based on what had happened to him, maybe the muscled up dude in the other room was a figment of his imagination; Here was the professor, dressed like all the professors, nothing to suggest even a hint of extra lean muscle….

“Okay, Zeke, rinse him, thoroughly, I don’t want his sweat to bring back the smell of piss, fouls the air in a room.

Zeke lifted Jeremy from the table, dragged him to an open space at the end of the room, hit a button and about ten spigots opened fire, all cold water. Taking a rag mop, a clean one, pushed Jeremy to the floor, added some cleaning agent and thoroughly mopped the floor with him.

As a true teacher, I waited until the janitor had finished before I started class and my student was ready to take his seat. Zeke, first dried him, then got his learning uniform, a steel contraption that first had his neck in a collar, two lengths of chain lead out to steel cuffs but the body chain continued down, about his waist there was a large link belly chain, below that, two dangling lock downs, one for his cock and one for his nuts then a division, chain down each leg until they ended at the heavy, unlined steel manacles around each ankle. From his neck collar was a straight length of chain that went down, through, not over, his ass which then joined the packages holding his manly bits. There were small lengths of chain every so often each ending in a C ring plus, on his back, a series of these large rings going from behind his neck to his ass. He was ready for school.

From overhead Zeke pulled one heavy chain, clipped to the back of his belly chain and we started moving him toward the door to the school room. I wanted him to walk in, like a man, how he might walk out….if he did…one never knew. A lot depended on him, his attitude and, first and foremost, his ability to learn.

The room was almost pitch dark save for a steel chair that was one off the sort of chair formerly used for electrocutions. Jeremy was seated in this, locked in with padlocks each key, as it was used, was dropped in a baize bag-the sort from which, in days gone by, BINGO balls were drawn. The last fastening was at his neck and it made sure his head was up and the lecturer had his undivided attention.

Perhaps it was a bit over dramatic but…what the hay, a little theatrics makes lessons more interesting…so my lectern, which was two feet off the ground, was lit up, a board with no figures yet on it, behind me.

“Glad to see you looking bright, enthusiastic, glad to be here….prepped for what you’re about to learn…You may recall, Jeremy, that on the regrettable day you chose to snooze, we were discussing Spain after the Moors and Islam had pretty much been driven out by the heretical Christians, largely represented by the Catholic Church who were anxious to reclaim their souls whom, they feared, had been lost to a religion not pleasing to God. Many good people had never abandoned the faith and so were welcomed back but…among the populace were those who were thought to still cleave to the now departed religion, who secretly worshiped in the magnificent mosques, now used as churches and cathedrals but still had the feeling and some few, were still not converted back to Christianity. Perhaps, Jeremy, you could recall some of that discussion that day….up to your point of mental departure due to sleep…share with me your memories….”

Even heavily chained he twisted some, always sure indication that a student has been struck dumb, suffered a memory loss….if they knew any thing at all. I crossed my arms raising a thumb as a sign to Zeke to plug in the chair and to take certain of the steel chains and see that they were joined to the circuitry. Jeremy was not to know it but…he was now quite literally in the hot seat. Under the right set of plugs and connections, we could fricassee any part of him but, of course, that was not for him, that was not historically accurate. Well, we’ll get there.

“Uh, uh……Professor, I can’t, uh, well, you know….”

“Yes, you were asleep. No problem, education isn’t always verbal, some times it’s physical….like now. Zeke, lets see if we can’t warm his memory, all that chain must be getting cold.”

“Hey, you got no right to do this and that fucker, well, he….”

“That fucker fucked you, first time for him to do you but hardly the first time for you.” On the lectern were a great many pictures I’d down loaded, enlarged and printed from Jeremy’s phone. Selecting one I held it up. “As I said, getting nailed here, and by a pro, must have been different from you and…whoever this is but the act is the same only in this version, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

There was a pause while the subject in the picture contemplated his shifting sands of fortune…and beginning to think there might be quick sand. Depending on your point of view, he was and was not right.

“Here’s a group shot, called, I believe, a gang bang, and don’t try and tell me this is a fraternity initiation…Jeremy, you should have this enlarged even more, get autographs from the participants, frame it then hang it in your club room. Lots of guys who aren’t in it might be interested. Just a guess.”

He was beginning to sweat which, I must say, made him more attractive if not desirable. Click, snap, send, save.

“So we understand ourselves now and up front; I am the only person who stands between you and an educational future, I believe that point was made clear by the exceptions committee and I’m that exceptional person who can see you through as much more education, grad school possibly, but only if you and I, as you were instructed, can find some sort of rapprochement which ends in my saying to them, ‘Gentlemen, we’ve worked it out, fine student, momentary lapse, I’ll adjust his grade to an A as well as suggest he be admitted to grad school while he simultaneously finishes his Senior year.” I looked at him, waiting, wondering really, if he’d have a response.

Tears shot from his eyes. “You’d do that?”

“I am known for keeping my word.”

“Sir…I gotta tell you, I don’t know anything about what you were teaching that day, ya see….”

“Don’t….fuck yourself deeper by offering an excuse, it just makes it worse. Of course, we can stop here, I’ll go back to exceptions with the unfortunate report that you’re an ass and perhaps shouldn’t even be allowed to finish the semester….”

“My folks…”

“Yes, your folks, grand people I’m sure, but…how might they think of you rejected by the University as well as your porno pictures now in wide circulation….One wonders if they’d even allow you to sleep on their back lawn.”

His silence was both profound, to him, and encouraging to me for I’d closed every door save the one I wanted opened, the one just to his left that he’d not noticed. There was no longer an issue of pay or play, there were no alternatives, he was going to stay and pay and play. And not for just this day, no, I’d prepared a special place for him to bunk in. Also, I’d picked this day as it was a Friday and, sure he’d be missed, but not much and, if he had a Rugby game, explaining his absence to the coach was a snap, one mention of Exceptions was all that it took. Given his snotty attitude, I’d little doubt that his coach would have given me a wink and an attaboy not to mention an update on how it went.

Thinking that through, I left the room to make a call. Lucky the first time, I caught the coach just as he was leaving for practice and, as I’d suspected, Coach was no fan of Jeremy. In a conspiratorial voice I suggested he might like to drop by the following morning and, who knew?, assist with making Jeremy the nice guy we thought was there from the horse’s ass we knew was there. He clicked off saying only, “Ten okay?”

Returning to the podium, I signaled Zeke to turn off the heat….just for now. “Jeremy, there’s some good news; Another of your instructors has learned of your problem and has graciously consented to join us tomorrow-I assume you’ll wish to spend the night…well, the weekend…so that we may fully resolve your educational difficulties, see to it that I can, in good conscious go back to exceptions and say that you’ve completed a series of tests that guarantee to me and, of course, my fellow instructor, your proficiency in what you’re asked to do. Do you agree?

Jeremy seemed to nod his head, which way was of no consequence, I was assuming he was with the program. “Good, now, first up, nothing motivates a student like something that they can see, realize is perhaps a better term, that relates to their student life.” I flicked a switch and most of the wall was covered with a photograph of Jeremy taking it in the ass while, or it looked that way, laughing maniacally. “Well, we know you can do that, Zeke has kindly given an, uhm, lets call it an entrance exam and, based on the noise I heard, you seem to enjoy it. However, as I’m sure you know, Cleanliness is Next To Godliness and having been sullied by one man, only thing to do is clean you out for the next.” I looked about.

“Zeke? Ready for young Jeremy?”

“Yep, Doctor, got just what you ordered right here, already to….”

“Lets not spoil the surprise just yet. First, I think….yes….lets move him from the electrical chair to something more comfortable. A place where he can lie down…..You know the place….”

It took a while to unlock all of Jeremy’s containments but, eventually, Zeke had him loose and, while going to his next station, had him walk for a bit, didn’t want him cramping up so soon. After a few circuits, he laid him out on what would be a regulation examining table in any doctor’s office….were it not for the hole through which his bubble ass fitted nicely. And, of course, the usual tie downs, locks, things to make sure he didn’t squirm about.

I strolled over moving a medical stanchion with me, the sort from which one can hang things, things that were now being hung.

“Okay, fore and aft.” The largest thing was almost a bucket and, from the sound it made when moved was filled with something, something liquid. There was a hose from it that Zeke took, greased the cock shaped end, reached under the table and shoved it up Jeremy’s tail. There was the standard flow adapter which I opened part way. “Of course you recognize this as an enema, want you clean clear through. When the tank is empty and you’re full, you can expel the filth within you and a second washing will occur.”

All true save in the second rinse there was a good amount of liquid Valium, called Versed, often used to give patients prior to surgery to calm them and that’s what I wanted him, calm. That established and running I took the second line, added the needle, took a four by four that was suffused with alcohol, found a good place on his sac, stuck the needle in and stepped back.

“Since I doubt you’ve done this, or had it done to you, at least there was no evidence in your phone, we’ll start slow. This is a bag full of saline. Over time, through the needle now in your nut sack, we’ll drip a certain amount of it into you. Happens all the time, many men enjoy inflating their ball bag to, well, really, extreme sizes, so much so that they have to carry them in a bowling ball bag if they’re even able to walk. But, as I said, you’re new and, today, we’ll just let it drain into until your scrotum begins to nicely expand then we’ll see how much further it looks like you’re able to go. You know and I know, every guy wants a hefty bulge to fill out his jeans….I’ll check back in a couple of hours to see how you’re doing, Zeke can take care of your enema…”

Nothing further to do in there, watching a guys nut sack inflate was only slightly more interesting than watching paint dry and, besides, there was a camera watching him for me that I could click into and see how the little shit head was doing. Thoughtfully, we’d arranged it so his head was slightly raised and, after a point, he could begin to see his scrotum come over the horizon. I’d done this to myself many, many times so knew he was perfectly safe but he didn’t know that and agreeing to remove the drip brought with it the idea that in exchange for that, he’d have to suffer yet another indignity. Not sure what. Maybe his coach would have an idea.

And speaking of him, I wondered what he might look like? As an expected guest, better to know than open the door and confuse him with some guy from United Parcel. Again, the internet and our school’s website proved useful and…hmmmm…coach had a lot to recommend him. 40-ish, still boy-ish, nice looking, well-muscled-one expected that-and his eagerness to assist in educating Jeremy could lead one to believe he was part of the brotherhood of men who liked the company of men; Tomorrow I could put that idea to the test. One way or the other, it was encouraging to know I wouldn’t have to put up with a hairy ape who sat on a bench beside a Rugby pitch and scratched his pits…

I picked up my beeper, checked with Zeke, told him to up the flow on the saline as well get another bag, untapped, but put it there where our visitor could see it. Who knew? Maybe I’d join him? Maybe, on the morrow, all three of us would “pump us up”.

We did need to feed the lad before introducing him to his sleeping quarters for the night. Probably used to a diet of things that were attached to a hand that came through a window, tonight he’d get a home cooked meal but one that, after preparation, was blended until is was about the color and consistency of vomit. Smell alright but…we eat with our eyes as well as with our mouths; Feeding time was another Zeke task; I could watch it on closed circuit. Actually, pretty easy to do, just grab him around the neck, force open his jaw or….I had a thought and went to look for something which I found; A dentist’s piece of equipment that held the jaw open. I could see Jeremy, his mouth wide, a sort of ramp extending into it down which was, slowly, poured dinner. Had to give him time to swallow.

On my next check, Zeke had started the second enema, the one with the relaxant in it. Not much, just enough to make him easier to deal with when, later, he was put to bed. Also his nuts had reached a nice, notable size, more than sufficient to make the guys in the locker room jealous but not sufficient to amuse me. However, some pleasures must be deferred so after standing at his feet, kneeling down just a bit, I got a fine photographic study Click zip store send of his balls plus the look of horror on his face. Or maybe it was pleasure, hard to know and this wasn’t the time for a proper examination. Whatever.

He seemed relieved to have the needle pulled from his scrotum but that turned to horror as I ripped open a sterile catheter-couldn’t have him leaking during the night. The other end would be, now that it was nice and clean, plugged with one from my collection; Sadly he wasn’t stretched enough to accept the casting of my hand but…something bullet shaped, possibly, yes, definitely, accessible to be electrified…

His bindings didn’t allow him to jerk about-which could have done his cock an injury as I slid in the pre-greased catheter, hung the bag for collection on the side, for the moment. Zeke helped me undo certain of the ties that bound him so he could be rolled on his tummy while we inserted the dildo. This could not be a new experience to him and I knew that as there was a video of him going down a line of ever larger dildos with a back ground of guys laughing and encouraging him on. One suspected this was part of a contest; Sadly the other contestants as well as the winner, weren’t included. Whether Jeremy won or not, he must have been in the top two or three. Watching that was how I knew to select a smooth sided number about the size and shape of a ripe Avocado for the night. Wondered if he could go up to, say, smallish pineapple but decided, no, that could be an exploration for another day. Something the coach and I could do together.

Zeke had to leave-I’d considered having him live in but I like my privacy and he was about three minutes away if I needed him. One last thing to do; Put Jeremy to bed. I doubted if he’d noticed the doors in the room but there was one, one we now opened, which revealed a fully equipped jail cell, bars and all. Standard bunk, standard one piece water dispenser, sink and toilet, probably not up to Geneva Convention standards but then it wasn’t used for the sort of prisoners that the Geneva Convention envisioned; They were after prisoners taken in battle, not ones that walked through the front door.

With only a little effort, and no help from our visitor, we moved him from the table in the room to the bunk in the cell bringing along his catheter bag. I’d never slept on it-why should I?-but other visitors had reported that, for what it was, it wasn’t uncomfortable, standard issue two inch thick mattress, one pillow, one blanket…C rings on the walls and on the edge of cuffs or whatever to be attached to. Also, for safety sake, there were three cameras that caught every thing that went on, two of which were motion sensitive so it, during the night, he struggled, I could see if there was a reason to check on him. Also, for legal purposes, all his visit was videoed not only for viewing pleasure but against the day he might try and complain; Should that happen he would need to remember that, even some time in the future, say if he were already in Grad School, he could be pitched out….Exceptions though they didn’t specify it, certainly left that as a possibility or an implied one.

All tucked in for the night, just a small light to keep him company, we carefully banged the steel bars closed, left the door to the cage open and…went on to my own life anticipating the morrow.

When the lights in the cell were almost out, I stood, thinking, what could the morrow bring….beside a surprise guest, his coach? Given the Versed, he was resting calmly, only slightly moving one part of him or other, the sort of movement that is often seen in a drunk viewing his surroundings and not being sure where or what…but too gone to care too much. I knew he would sleep well. And, if he didn’t, well, another quicky enema with some additional Versed was easily plugged into him.

That left the balance of the evening to plan for tomorrow, think how to begin, how to involve the coach and, of maximum importance, find out on whose team the coach played. Given his comments about Jeremy I was sure he would have no objections to whatever was done to hm-particularly after he was shown a couple of ‘candid’ snaps taken of the coach in the locker room.

Most men, after a game or exercise, do sit around, shoot the shit, probably naked, scratch their nuts however, that his nut scratching was on the camera of a student….his reaction would be interesting. For that matter, the whole rugby team were ‘in the scrum’ in the nude in the shower or in the same locker room. Not all in one snap but…I didn’t doubted sequential correctness would seriously matter. Logically, that was where to begin…sit the coach down, offer him coffee…explain my concerns that his team was or perhaps had been exploited by a member…I rolled over, put my hand on my rising cock, laughed and stroked ‘er down. Fuck the cum on the sheets…I could lick that up in the morning.

Zeke took our overnight guest out, sluiced him down, fed him, gave him another enema, this time with something to speed him up, then returned him to his cell only lightly secured with chains to his ankles, wrists and a neck collar that were all joined. Apart from that, he was welcome to move about his containment area. To show our heart was in the right place, we even left a light on, that’s how sporting we were. Zeke wondered if he could fuck him again but…something in me suggested that, today, his was going to be a busy tail and to start this early, well, the young, for all their vaunted energy, can only take so much and it was my intention to make sure he had as much as he could take. Also noted that his balls had done what always happened after saline, they’d deflated, all back to normal-ish.

After that, Zeke put me through a heavy work out, one that pumped up what would show under light clothing, gave me a good rub down, suggested a brief rest or nap….the day was off to a good start. Next up was…wardrobe. I’d seen coaches of whatever sport wandering around campus, faculty meetings and they tended to wear their coaching togs…now whether that would hold true coming to assist in the ‘coaching’-as it were-of a student we both mutually had, I wondered. Casual, at home, relaxed, polo shirt, I had a pair of khaki cargo shorts on which the legs had been shortened, athletic socks, old pair of loafers…smile on my face, coffee in a mug, invitation to sit down while we considered what was up…Yep, that was the plan.

Promptness is a virtue I admire and the coach was prompt. There was a knock on my screen-the door was open-so I yelled for him to come on in, follow the coffee smell and join me. He looked just like his picture, better really. Affable, smiling, immediately shook my hand, laughed about our ‘educational day’, sat down, accepted a mug and we did what all academics do; We sized each other up. I could see he noticed that my biceps filled out the arm holes on my shirt, the chest was tight but it hung over my abdomen meaning there had been some work done there. I’d carefully seated myself so one knee pointed toward him so he could catch the well turned calf and, if he looked, the bulge that almost filled one of the pockets. And he did look.

Lee, his name, was kitted out about like myself, t shirt, with the school name, nicely fitted shorts that were somewhere between gym and walking, athletic socks and well cleaned sneakers; I’d trust him to coach my kid to do anything.

First things first. I picked up a large manila envelope, put it on my lap, paused, as if considering then….

“Lee, we’ve got a problem and, I really regret this but…well, here.” And pulled one of the pictures, surprise! right on top, one of him, nude, full frontal in the locker room. I watched him go from good sport to really pissed off. “Sorry…Jeremy was, uh, more than a little busy after practice.” Handed him the envelope which, oops, I dumped on the space between us. He picked up one, then another, put it down, went back to the one of him…

“The little shit head…I could…”

“Wait, don’t fill in that blank…whatever it is you want to do I believe I can promise you, there’s an opportunity as the popular vernacular has it, that I’m going to ‘share’ with you.” He continued looking at the photos, hard not to notice that his anger did nothing to contain his erectile tissues as his cock got hard. Just to push out a mutual interest…I pointed at his crotch…

“Yep, got me the same way. You’re one fine stud both in the flesh and on film, like the way you’re rising to the cause…gotta tell ya, Lee, when I first saw you….”

It was the moment for a memorable gesture and I had one; Doing the cross over two handed shirt pull up, I peeled out of the polo shirt leaving me, my abs, my pecs, my good shoulders…on view. “I’m a senior member of the all boys club…” There was an implied question which was answered when he repeated my motion and the T shirt joined the other one on the floor. Nice tats, obviously a former Marine.

“You don’t look so senior to me, Robin, not so senior at all….mind if I get a little more comfortable?”

He didn’t really need a response. Slipped out of his shorts and, yep, what I’d guessed was under there, a jock…just like the one he saw on me when the cargos slid down my legs and were kicked aside.

We sat for a moment, adjusting to the situation. “Thanks, Robin, for making it easy….”

“Pleasure is mine…now…that still leaves us with a can full of worries…’

It took some doing, some explanation, the camera, the other photos, the sexting and, last but not least, how the little prick got himself in this situation. The ‘deal’ he needed to make to get through exceptions and how grateful I was to him for, as I saw it, we shared a problem or various parts of it. There was one other thing, no matter what we thought, we were part of a university and there were some academic considerations such as…I didn’t know if his participation on a rugby team was something that was graded or how, if it was, it was figured into his academic standing.

Lee thought that one over. “Two ways to think of this…no, there’s no connection between grading and participation, however, if he fucks up, as I think we could agree he has, I can run his ass to the Athletic Director point out all sorts of major infractions, ask for some sort of disciplinary action and that…goes on his transcript along with why the action was requested…could even get him booted out with or without the exceptions committee and your beef with him. Sorry, Robin, but..you know….sports and schools, almost sacrosanct, look at the messes other schools have had for kinda variations on this.”

He had every point we needed to keel haul little Jeremy’s ass the only difference was I already had him on the greased slope whereas Lee would have to institute something… I pointed out that this wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted any publicity about and dirty pictures, porno pictures in the locker room would be headed for the media…He leaned back, put his altogether admirable arms behind his neck, leaned his head back which shoved out his chest. He wasn’t doing it for show but because he knew I was right, we had to go the exceptions committee route but, as I pointed out, Jeremy was going to find out that his underground portraiture had been discovered. I’d saved one last picture…the one of him taking it in the ass on a series of graduated dildos. We both laughed at that…He even said it reminded him of something….and didn’t quite finish the sentence.

We had a couple of quiet moments, I filled my mug, offered the carafe to Lee who smiled and said that one or two in the morning was his limit. I sorted the pictures, was going to put them back in the envelope when he stopped me.

“You know, every team has a faculty advisor or that’s the theory. Think you’d like to be ours?” It was an interesting proposition, in one way I’d already ‘seen’ the team plus there was something in his invitation that suggested I wouldn’t have much to do with academics.

“Sure, Coach, sign me up, put me in…I’m flattered.”

“Flattered enough to find out some more, uh, team spirit?”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. He took the photos, rifled through them and picked out two. “These are my team players…on and off the pitch.”

“Look like very nice lads, rotten pictures but…”

“Robin, what would you say to my inviting them here to, uh, assist us in educating Jeremy…and he’s got a lot to learn. One thing, and you know this, when you work with the young, sometimes it’s not a bad idea to involve their peer group…and….looking at these, my pair are going to want to be involved. Yes, for fucking sure, they would consider it an honor…..”

“Call them…no time like the present but, Lee, apart from telling them where they’re coming, maybe the why they’re coming is….”

“Yeah, I think…telling them they’re coming to meet their new faculty advisor and they need to come in full uniform plus a change out…sorry, Robin, couldn’t help notice you got a pool in the back yard.”

“…there’s a Speedo, or less, with your name on it when we get there. One thing…these kids who are coming over…safe to assume they’re, uh,…”

“Yeah, broken in, to me, I fuck ‘em and they fuck me…shame you’re in History, the Athletic Department, I’m sure, would find something for you to keep you warm while you grade papers.” I laughed, liked Lee more all the time.

“Go get ‘em.”

However much we yucked it up, we both faced a problem which could grow very serious. No matter what, and though he wasn’t smart enough on his own to do it, some jock sniffing attorney might see one-or more-of the photos and warp into something that was wholly our fault. Jeremy could say that he’d been raped, sodomized and made to do ‘unnatural acts’. (Not yet he hadn’t although that lay in his future.) Once in court, no matter the outcome, even if Lee and I were wholly exonerated, the whiff of sexual scandal wreathed about us like smog in Beijing and, quite probably wrecked any further careers we might have contemplated. We both were only too aware of that and were trying to address it when the doorbell rang.

Doorbells ringing at my place, particularly on a Saturday morning, meant it wasn’t someone I knew, couldn’t be UPS and certainly wasn’t a student; Doorbells were a relic from the distant past and from the look on their face when they saw one, you could sense the confusion as to the purpose. Lee yelled for his guys-that’s who he said it had to be, polite to the core-to come in and they did. Stood in front of us whilst my lungs inhaled most of the air in the room. I looked at Lee.

“They followed you home and you kept them?”

“Nope, Sam Dickerson-know him?-swimming coach referred them to me. Looking at them” and I was “you can see how with their flat abs, long, tapering calf muscles, really an almost aerodynamic body they should be able to go through the water better than a coast guard cutter.” I took a guess.

“Can’t swim a stroke, can they?”

“Nope, and on the first day of try outs for the swim team, they damn near drowned. In the hot tub. Sam’s uhm, a close friend” and paused while he looked directly at me “so looking at them, figured anyone could run and they were forwarded to me. He does retain visiting privileges.”

I would have asked for not only visiting privileges but overnight privileges, weekend privileges, several of the major holidays plus six weeks every summer. “What do you call them?”

“They showed up as, God Forbid, Arthur and Clyde” we both thought the inappropriateness of that over “so I renamed them Britt and Brett”.

They were twins and this did seem far more appropriate and, whatever else their lack of athletic skills, their stunning looks made them eligible for any team that didn’t involve water. Stripped to very little and given some pom poms, they could have led a cheer that would have brought tears to the eyes of many an Alumni particularly when they lept in the air revealing that, underneath their almost non-existent shorts, they were wearing a leather cord that held up an occupied cock ring, barely covered with some material that needn’t be wetted to be transparent.

They stood looking great, masculine, kind, clean, loyal, brave, hell, they were fucking boy scouts. Out of uniform. “Uhm, how did Dickerson get them?”

“The question I’ve always wondered is how did they get into school but look at them…wouldn’t you have admitted them?”

He had a point. “…so Dickerson…Dickerson…fucked them, found they couldn’t swim and so…how did they get to him?”

“They were flunking First Aid and the class was held by the pool so whoever taught that thought…there was the pool, there was the swim team and, look at them, would you flunk them?”

“I wouldn’t flunk them if they couldn’t spell cat, no way…so?”

“Sam and I knew that unless they lit someplace eventually they were going to be out the door, talent wasted on some street somewhere so….why not keep them here? Protected by men who could appreciate them for what they are…studs.”

That seemed a fair summation.

“Guys, this is Professor Robin, he’s a friend…”

Apparently that was a code as they set on my to extend their hospitality; Britt, or maybe it was Brett, went to work chewing my nipples while whichever the other one was, hauled out my schlong, went to work washing just the head…”Jesus, Lee….are they always this affectionate?”

“Wait ‘til you get to know them better. Some days, just to wake me up…well, I have to call Sam to take some of it…they have enough of my semen in them to….”

I’d lost track of the conversation. I finally blew and was able to right my spectacles, pull up my jock and try and find the conversational threads. Lee, apparently used to this, lounged back finishing what must have been a cold cup of coffee while one or the other lazily alternately licked his nuts and gave him gentle jerk.

“And they don’t like Jeremy? Christ, don’t they just like about every man?”

“Loyalty, ingrained in them, when they first came to this country…”

“They’re exchange students? What did we exchange them for?”

“Uh, that’d be no, they were brought here under what let’s call…questionable circumstances…”

“I’ll bet..”

“Some legal mess at Kennedy and…remember the First Aid Teacher? Well, he was near them, realized the problem pulled out his credentials, said they were foreign exchange students and, oops, got separated from him. I guess immigration bought it as, well, here they are.”

“Why didn’t First Aid keep them? Jesus, I would have.”

“You don’t have a wife, he did.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…so on to Dickerson who couldn’t justify them as, well, you know, they couldn’t swim which fucked up the scholarship he was thinking of giving them so…me.”

“Can they actually play Rugby? It’s not the sport of every school boy in America, hell, most people wouldn’t recognize it…”

“True, but…they’re not Americans, fact is, we’re not sure where they cam from, just looking at them…some place between Estonia and Siberia..”

“Ask them.” And quickly thought about his answer which I said in Greek chorus with him.

“They don’t speak English, well some words, suck, fuck, shit head, you know, young persons base vocabulary but, Robin, they are as good and as kind as the day is long until…..they get on the pitch then two dirtier players you never saw. Absofuckinglutely fearless, they’ll break a leg an arm, gouge out an eye…Rugby isn’t as quaintly polite as Golf or…”

“Don’t they have passports, some form of I.D…..”

“Just what the school gave them, Sam thought that up, they’ve even got driver’s licenses but I’m not sure they can drive a car.”

The twins settled themselves, one per faculty member, on the couch and expectantly waited for whatever they were going to do next.

“Yes, but when they speak to each other…”

“Well, we know it’s not Russian, Finnish, Swedish or Norwegian. Oh, Latvian. Probably Estonian but who do you know who speaks that? We’re on very shaky ground here, they are in reality undocumented immigrants who could be snapped up by INS and sent back…somewhere.” He looked at me very directly. “There’s a group of guys, one you just joined, who don’t want that, do you.”

I’m not much of a joiner but, instantly, I signed up for this select set of men having the best interests of Brett and Britt at heart. “Okay but Jeremy…”

“Hate him like the plague. On field, like I said, they’re dirty players but the moment the game is over, they go right back to being what you see, real nice guys who would never hurt anyone. Why he did it…doesn’t matter but after the game, we’re walking back to the locker room….shit for brains horse collars one of the them and the other…fill it in yourself.”

Just as a test, I pushed a button and there was Jeremy, nicely chained, I a cell….the twins noticed and their demeanor instantly suggested that it was just as well he was in a cell…to protect him.

“Hey, neat gadget…see what I mean? Don’t look like pit bulls do they. Oh, you should see, well, here….” He made some sort of motion with his hands which the twins interpreted to mean ‘strip’, which they did.

Not even in the better quality of porn had I seen meat like theirs. It wasn’t that it was obscenely long but as a package, with the nuts hanging a good four inches below their seven inch, fully cut, cocks, it was breathtaking, made me want to go down, see if I could suck off two at once. After a moment or so of staring I looked at Lee.

“Try waking up to that and getting on with your day.”

“Dickerson must come by your house a lot.”

“Yeah, well, that and anger management did present a problem, Robin, if they don’t like you, if someone seems to threaten one of their ‘men’, it can take all you’ve got to settle them so….”

He’d been carrying a coaching bag, seemed natural so I hadn’t really noticed it.

“We keep these on hand.” In his hand he had two steel tubes, the sort that are advertised as chastity devices only, clearly, these had another purpose. “They sleep in these unless they’re sleeping with someone and we find the idea of them solves the problem….”

“Like the elephant that’s been chained up but, when the chain is removed, the doesn’t realize it…”

“Exactly. This needs a demo…Britt, Brett….” He handed one to each young man which they dutifully loaded with their cocks, a half ring, hinged at the back, was pulled up holding their balls. “Know what teeth of Kali are? You know the little tiny very painful points of pain that are in some gadgets like these? Well, you mentioned the elephant…that’s how these were initially and I or Sam could make them more painful. Still got ‘em but, well, watch…”

He put his hand in his bag, pulled out a closed fist, placed it around one of their steel tubes and I could see the fright, the fear of the pain. Took the fist away, back to the bag, pulled the now relieved twin to him, gave him a quick suck, then a longer one. That left one twin unoccupied so…I pulled at him and he came to me with real enthusiasm. Clearly the idea of trying out a new mouth was a pleasure to him. Porn stars would envy their ability to get not just hard, but stiff, veins popping out stiff, instantly. Also, although they came very quickly, and in quantity, their reaction made the ones doing the sucking, Lee and me, feel we’d done a superior job. Clearly, no fluffing would ever be needed. Ever.

“Lee, we need to get on to Jeremy….just leave one here for my historical inspection….” And laughed.

“I’ll leave both of them…then you’ll be in for it; One of their favorite things to do, and they do it very well, is the old fashioned double fuck.”

Zeke stuck his head around the door and the twins were immediately in protection mode. I explained, well, as best I could, lack of any language was puzzling, that Zeke was okay, my friend, Lee’s friend and, to prove it, also to get a major distraction out of my living room, I had Lee persuade the twin to go with Zeke. He wondered what might happen.

“Simple, they’re going to get a scrubbing but not like you’ve ever had. In Korea, the bath houses are famous for their trained, washers, I don’t know the word, who take you and, it may take hours, you are thoroughly scrubbed, inside and out, yep, right up the old ass but, Lee, oh my God, when they’re done-drying you can take an hour, your cock is put in a special cloth drying tube, you don’t want to do anything but collapse and think of nothing but having it done again. The twins may start out hesitant but, I promise you, when Zeke’s done, they will carry him on their shoulders, get down and blow him, let him fuck them until he’s dry…”

“That good, huh?”

“Yep, and while they’re busy at that, it’s time for you and me to drop by the cell and get Jeremy ready for the day…ever had your ball bag filled with saline?”

He got a sneaky smile. “Yeah, used to be a favorite of mine…when I was alone…”

“Jeremy thinks his don’t clank, so I thought…”

“Absolutely, big as they’ll go. Make him cry and….uh…something I’d do, add weights above the sack, just to pull it all down. Want to do his cock?”

“Uhmmmm maybe not today…but lets get all the stuff together then surprise him with a visit from his coach.”

Up to that moment it had been pretty light, fun but the bottom line was Jeremy, though he was too dumb to know it, was in a position to do Lee considerable damage. I was somewhat immune as all he could do was make accusations which would be impossible to prove but the pictures, although there was nothing in them that wouldn’t be seen in any locker room, still showed a member of the faculty, a coach, being a personal with himself. If he let that one go, regardless of the fact that he would get walloped for having taken it and released it, it was still Lee as he wouldn’t want to be seen-who would? We talked about it, agreed on some things, wondered about one or two others and planned out the next several hours.

Prior to sorting out Jeremy, I gave him a peek at the twins and Zeke. Clearly they were enjoying themselves-Zeke wasn’t having a bad time either. Their pleasure was such that Britt, or maybe Brett, was on his knees while his brother was being scrubbed trying to suck off Zeke. Not that he would have minded but it did interfere with what he was doing. I closed the door and we both assumed we knew where to find all of that group when-or if-we needed them. Then it was on to Jeremy.