Boarding School (11 page)

“Ohhhh!” I dropped my jaw and cocked my head backwards as if I had just been conquered. I couldn’t believe the way he was now making me feel. My body felt utterly paralyzed with pleasure. I was now completely under his charge and very willing to just lie there and benefit from the obvious skills this second guy possessed.

Do you know the sound that a shower makes when the water hits a person’s hair? Well, the water hitting the Artist’s hair became the constant sound that I heard as he began to stroke my hard-on aggressively with his lips. But I also heard a smacking sound. Sort of the way a wet wash cloth sounds when it’s slapped against the side of a porcelain sink. He had created a suction in his mouth while he was stroking me and the feeling that it, plus some incredible things he occasionally did with his tongue around my crown, sent me over the edge. I was now his to command.

So we continued this way for a while. With my body now as rigid as a piece of plywood, I remained on the boat cushions in a state of ecstasy while Artist’s head kept jerking up and down on me at an ever increasing pace. And far too soon, he had brought me to the point where I could no longer hold myself back—and I ejaculated.

I came hard and I came strong, and I felt as if I had emptied out all of my semen and then some. And once the spasms had ended, and I felt as if every ounce of my insides had been pumped to my outsides, my body collapsed. Every muscle I had after that went limp and I felt as if I wanted to stay on those cushions forever. “Ohhhhh!” I exhaled. I was in awe of what this guy had just done to me.

Artist then sat up and spoke to me again. “How was that?”

“Ohh… man!” was all I could say at that moment. It hadn’t been that long ago in my life that I had discovered masturbation. So an experience like this was completely new to me.

“Ok, now stand up,” he began to give me instructions again.

Reluctantly I did as he said. When I was vertical again, I could sense Artist returning to his feet as well. Quickly then, I could hear him remove the cushions and reposition the chair for me under the stream. “Ok, sit down in the chair again,” he ordered.

As before, I felt with my hands through the running water for the chair. When I found it, I turned around and planted my bottom down on the seat again.

“So did you like that?” he asked me again as I noticed him adjusting the angle of the shower head so that the water would again pour down directly onto the top of my head.

“What?” As before, the sound of the water through my skull and over my ears was making it a little harder for me to hear him. And then it dawned on me. These guys were restricting my vision and limiting my hearing deliberately. The only sense I was being permitted to use unfettered was my sense of touch—and they were working that one overtime tonight.
So why,
I wondered,
was allowing me only my sense of touch so important to them?

“I said did you like that?” The sound of Artist’s voice then compelled me to return my focus to him.

“Oh, yeah!” I exclaimed again.

“What was that?” he asked more sternly this time.

I knew he could hear me just fine. So I realized, then, that the time had come for me to be submissive once again. “I mean yes, sir.”

“Good. Well, now that you know how it’s done, you’re gonna give me a blow job next.”

“What!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I had heard the term “blow job” a couple of times the year before in school, but I had never known what it meant. Now my education was moving too fast.

“That’s right, and I expect a good job too. I don’t want to feel your teeth at all.”

“No!” I yelled in disgust. I was horrified by the idea. I couldn’t possibly allow someone to put his penis into my mouth. The very thought was too repulsive for me to even consider. “Auhauh!” Artist then slapped me hard across my face and forced me to fly off the side of my chair and onto the shower floor.

“You’re going to give me a blow job now, or I’m gonna give it to you in your ass like the leader just did. And if you give me any more shit about it, I’ll bring the leader back in here and let him take care of ya his way. So which way is it gonna be? Do you take it in the mouth? Or do you take it in the ass? Are you really ready to have another bone up your butt tonight? Huh?”

There was no longer any evidence that this guy had been kind to me just a few moments earlier. This was a miserable situation I was now in. “No, sir,” I didn’t think my ass could handle another rape job. I then felt a hand grab my arm and pull me back onto the chair.

“So are you gonna give me the blow job you owe me?”

It was hopeless. There was no good choice for me to make. There was only one way I could go that would save me from any more physical pain. “Yes, sir,” I answered meekly.

“What was that? I’m not sure I heard you.”

“Yes, sir,” I answered a little louder this time.

“Yes, sir, what?”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be happy to give you the blow job I owe you, sir.” I felt ill.

As I continued to sit under the stream, I wanted desperately now to find a way out of all of this. I could then feel the insides of Artist’s bare yet hairy legs rubbing up against the outsides of my thighs. He was straddling my legs now so he could bring his groin area closer to my face. But before he moved in on me all the way, he stopped and grabbed my cheeks with his hand and squeezed them together.

“What you do is… you purse your lips together like you’re playing a trumpet… like this.” He continued to demonstrate with my face. “And then while you’re running your lips up and down on my dick, you want to sort of clamp down tightly so you can suck out all the air while you’re doing me. And listen, if you have a problem with all of this at first, just think of your mouth as being detached from the rest of you and not a part of your body anymore. That’ll make it easier to do.”

I began to wonder what would happen if I were to throw up right now.

“But the most important thing for you to remember is to keep your teeth away from my dick. To start with, until you get the hang of it, you can cover your teeth with your lips when you start out. Any questions?”

“What if I throw up?” I asked. I was just curious.

He then released his hold on my face. “Oh, well… I’m not planning to go down your throat or anything. I think that’s too advanced for you right now. For now I ‘m just gonna try to keep it in your mouth. But I ‘m not gonna know how far in I can go until I’ve gone in there. Anything else?” he asked.

“No.” I was now depressed.

Apparently my inadvertent insubordination angered him. “What was that?” he demanded.

“I mean no, sir,” I replied in a monotone voice. I now just wanted to get it over with so I could go back to my room and try to forget that this night had ever happened.

I guess Artist already had an erection going because a moment later I felt his legs slide up closer along my thighs, and then I could feel the tip of his penis poking at my lips. Automatically, I recoiled in disgust and wrenched my head away from him. Artist then grabbed my face with his hand again, squared me up, and then plunged his penis into my mouth.

“Agk!” It was awful. His penis filled my mouth and immediately caused me to gag when I felt it begin to slide down my throat. Fortunately, he noted my distress and pulled himself back out a bit as he had promised.

“Sorry. Like I said, I don’t know how far into you I can go until I go in. Are you ok now?”

“Um hmm,” I answered in the affirmative. There was no way at this moment that I could form any real words.

“Good. Now just sit there while I do the work.” And so, the next phase of my “initiation” was begun. Immediately then, Artist began to thrust himself repeatedly into my mouth while I just sat there under the water and took it. I was now giving my first blow job.

“Purse your lips more, like I showed you,” he hollered.

I tried to do as he ordered.

“Good. Ahhhhh! Yeah, that’s it! Ok, now make a suction, Clint.”

Again I obeyed him and began to suck on his penis as if it were a fat stick of candy or something. Soon I was hearing my own mouth making the same sort of smacking sounds I had heard the Artist make when he had sucked on me.

“Aw, yeah! Outstanding! Clint, you’re really good at this. You’ve got great lips.”

Terrific,
I thought.
I
can put that on my resume. “Special mentions in English, Music, and he’s got great lips.”
The situation was impossible. This was now without question, the worst night of my life. I hated what I was being forced to do and I kept wondering to myself what it was I had done in my life to deserve such a fate. And the more my mind fixated on these thoughts, the harder it became for me to keep control over my emotions until eventually I couldn’t take it any longer and I simply began to cry. So as the Artist thrust, I sobbed and we continued on this way for the next several minutes.

Sometimes, when you are truly in a crisis, your mind begins to go to other places. As the Artist’s penis seemed to now feel like a permanent fixture in my mouth, I tried to take his advice and mentally detach the lower half of my head from the rest of me so I could think of my mouth as being no longer a part of my body. I also thought about how different my life could have been had I accepted my parents’ invitation to go with them to Europe. Of course, I knew I had missed my chance. It was too late, for me now. After all, I had made my choice. But the idea of being someplace else at this moment did seem to comfort me—if only for a brief moment.

Then, without any warning he stopped his thrusting. “Ok, I’m just gonna stand here now and I want you to start going down on me.”

Again my new sex partner used an expression I was unfamiliar with, but I figured he had meant for me now to do all the work. And so I began to move my head forward and back so my lips could stroke down along his shaft and then stroke it back out again. In no time, I began to tire from my efforts. This, as it turned out, was a lot of hard work.

“Faster!” he ordered after I had been going for a while.

So obligingly, I picked up my pace.
Oh that’s why,
I thought to myself. It had suddenly occurred to me. The reason why they had gone to so much trouble to put me in a little kid’s chair was so that my mouth would be at the optimal height for what I was being forced to do right now.

“Come on, Clint. Faster, man.”

It was no longer possible for me to do this job halfheartedly. There was too much I had to keep track of. Besides having to keep a constant tension in my lips, I had to keep sucking all the time while making sure also that as I kept going
down
on him at an ever increasing pace, I didn’t accidentally graze him with my teeth. Before long, I realized that I was now honestly trying to bring this turkey to a climax. So to balance myself better and to give me something I could push off against, I reached out with my hands and wrapped them firmly around the back of his thighs just below his buttocks.

“Oh yeah! Go for it, Clint! You’re really workin’ me now!”

And I was. Every time I felt him tremble inside, I tried to do everything harder and faster so this entire ugly mess could be over sooner.

“Ah!” Artist gasped. “Ah… Uuh!” For a time then we continued this way. Every so often he would make sounds like these which would cause me to believe for an instant that we were reaching his end. But then just as quickly his groans and grunts would cease and out of frustration I would bear down on him even harder. Finally though, he began to moan between his gasps, which told me that we were getting close. Because I was so busy, I didn’t notice at first what this upperclassman did with me next. In silence, Artist reached out with his arms and gripped my wet hair within his fingers, and then he rested his hands on the top of my head so they could ride along as I kept my cranium in constant motion.

Now I was going all out. No more holding back. My head was moving in and out like a woodpecker’s and my lips were clamping down on his penis like a vise while I sucked away like a vacuum cleaner. It was becoming painful for me to keep going like this, but I did my best to ignore the pain. I wanted this to be over, so my entire being was now committed to bringing this guy to his climax.

And then, after a couple of false alarms, it happened. I could feel his penis throbbing between my lips as the realization of what was finally starting then hit me. He was ejaculating into my mouth!

“Ahhhhhh!” In my hands, his thighs felt as if his entire body was being electrocuted. It was awful—and just as disgusting as one would think it would be. Instantly his semen filled my mouth and tasted like a huge volume of warm snot. It was all I could do to keep myself from throwing up in revulsion right then.

“Ah! Oh yeah! Haaaaa!” The guy exhaled loudly as he squeezed out his last few bullets of semen into my mouth. To keep from getting slapped again, I kept going down on him until I could feel him stop my head movements by pulling on my hair. He then released my hair and pulled his penis out of my mouth.
Finally!
I thought to myself. I was about to spit out his semen and rinse my mouth out in the stream when Artist grabbed my cheeks to hold my mouth shut.

“Swallow it!” he demanded.

“Umm?” I was again horrified at what I was being commanded to do. “Urn ummm!” I protested. I couldn’t see any reason why swallowing his semen could make any difference to him at this point. After all, I’d already given him the damn blow job. That should have been plenty.

“Either you swallow it now, Clint, or I’ll bring the leader in here to work you over again,” he threatened. “This is something you’re gonna have to do every time. Around here the rule is, you have to swallow… or else. So come on, Clint. Swallow it, man!”

He shook my face as he spoke. By now I had been through too much to want to oppose these guys anymore—so I did as I was told again, and I swallowed it.

“All right. Good for you, Clint. You did fine.”

Artist then let go of my face. I did nothing after that. I just sat there, still under the running water with my head now hung down. I was beat, and I was beaten. These bigger kids had taken everything I had—physically and emotionally. They had gotten me to participate in every foul act they had wanted, and I was now feeling ashamed.