Lord Bachelor: A Tale of Victorian London
by Alexander


Part 1 – Lord Batchelor’s Surprise

Lord Batchelor had just settled down to read the day’s issue of ‘The Times’ when he was disturbed by a gentle rap at the withdrawing room door and the appearance of his housekeeper, the ancient Miss Primm.

Primm had been his father’s housekeeper, and Albert Batchelor’s nanny before that: she had been inherited along with the estate and his father’s wealth when he died. No one knew or cared whether she had a first name or not – certainly, Albert, Lord Batchelor had never heard it and he had known her all his life.

“Excuse me sir,” Primm said in her usual funereal voice, “We have been distributed by a small male child.”

Albert put the newspaper down with a sigh and tried to interpret what Primm had said. Primm had been born in Wales and only spoke Welsh until she entered service and even after a lifetime spent in the employ of Lord Batchelor senior hadn’t quite got a grasp of English. Guessing correctly he learned that there was a small boy in the house somewhere who had disturbed Primm’s tranquillity.

“And who is he?” Albert asked, “Or don’t we know?”

“I have envisioned the child before, sir. He is the son of your brother, the Lord Biggun.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so? Charles, you mean?”

“That is he, sir. I believe he is reconstituted by that name.”

“Bring him in then. I wonder what he wants at this time of day?”

A few minutes later Primm re-entered the room accompanied by young Charles, the 13-year-old son of his brother Arthur.

“What ho young Charles!” Albert said cheerfully. “What brings you to Belgrave Square?”

Charles stood smiling gently at his uncle and said that he and his father had been in London for the day and were about to go to Lord Biggun’s club for dinner when a wheel of their carriage had broken and that unfortunately it couldn’t be repaired until the morrow. His father had to meet some business acquaintances at the club and couldn’t miss the appointment so Charles had been dispatched to his uncles to spend the night.

“I hope I am not inconveniencing you, sir,” the boy said. “But I have nowhere else to stay for the night and my father said that he would be most pleased if you would accommodate me.”

“Of course, of course,” Albert said. “It will be a pleasure. Let me take a good look at you, it must be an age since I saw you last. My how you’ve grown.”

What he saw was a slim, raven-haired boy who was quite attractive in a youthful way, but a little nervous at having to upset whatever plans Albert may have had for the evening.

“You are more than welcome. Have you eaten yet? I don’t suppose you have, what with your mishap. Would you like some cold mutton and chops? I have already dined, but I’m sure Primm can find some victuals for you. And maybe a small glass of port wine? Or would you prefer some ale? Wine or ale is better for you when in town, the water must not be drunk at all unless you are certain of its origin.”

“That would be most kind of you. I haven’t had a morsel since lunch and I am rather famished. A glass of watered port wine would also be most welcome. My father encourages me to partake of a little at dinner.”

Primm was summoned and informed of the situation. As she and her master were the only occupants of the house, it was up to her to take charge of the child, Lord Batchelor being completely ignorant in the ways of children. She knew of course that Lord Biggun was landed gentry, a country farmer with a large estate, and being from a stout Welsh farming community herself had a very good idea of the heathen way in which country folk behaved when their primal urges took them. He would need the ministrations of an honest, God-fearing woman, she thought, even if it was only for one night.

After a sufficient repast had been taken, Primm fussed over the boy like a mother hen, much to Lord Batchelor’s relief and amusement.

“Primm was my nanny when I was your age and dressed in knickerbockers and linen shirts. You may look upon this as your home and Primm as your surrogate mother until you leave when the unfortunate damage to your conveyance has been attended to,” he explained.

“Yes, sir,” the child replied politely. “Does that mean she will be joining us?”

“Join us, Charles? Join us in what?”

“Why sir, join us in the bed.”

Lord Batchelor almost had an attack of apoplexy when he heard this and broke out in a fit of coughing. Primm however, was made of sterner stuff and took it in her stride, expecting no better from ignorant country folk.

“Bless me, my Lord, the child is manured to a life of shame, that’s the fact of it sir, that he can’t conceive no other, he being country-bred.”

Taking a tender glance at Charles, she went on, “There is no necessity for you to sleep with anyone except yourself and the Good Lord your Saviour, in peace and innocence.”

“Ahem!” Lord Batchelor interrupted, relieved that the untoward and unexpected conversation was over, “May I suggest that we bathe the boy and put him to bed?”

Nodding a reply, Primm bustled off to prepare the tub.

Unaccustomed as he was to boys, Batchelor indicated a bookshelf, invited Charles to select one to read until his bath was ready and returned to his newspaper. The next thing he knew was when Primm returned and uttered a loud “Bless me!” from the door.

Dropping the corner of his newspaper to see what was amiss, he saw Primm with her hands covering her mouth in horror. Intrigued as to what could cause such consternation, he lowered the rest of the paper into his lap to observe a completely denuded boy in front of him.

“What are you doing?” he said, bemused and not a little shocked.

“Why sir, my father and his maid inspect me before and after my bath to ensure that I have cleaned all the parts of me to their satisfaction and that I haven’t omitted to cleanse myself adequately.”

Before he could frame a suitable response, Primm broke in and said, “Lord love the poor child, look at the state of him, he is so innocent in his repose. I must wash him and give him some arraignments.”

“You’re right,” Primm. “Please provide him with a night-shirt as soon as you can.”

“Certainly Sir, We shall return percipiently.”

Miss Primm guided the boy upstairs to the spare room where the hot tub awaited him.

Thankfully, Batchelor returned to the interesting editorial on the lifestyle of Queen Victoria and promptly forgot about the child.

The following morning, Primm knocked at Lord Batchelor’s bedchamber door and hurried in without waiting for a reply, obviously ill at ease with something.

“Sir, the boy is nowhere to be seen … ooh!”

She started in surprise at the sight of Charles’ head nestling on the sleeping Batchelor’s bare chest.

“Sir!, sir!” she cried in a state of extreme agitation.

“Oh, Good Morning, Primm ……..”

“Bless me! I never saw such license! Lord Batchelor, sir, I can not credit the account of my eyes. That you should stand exposed as an amuser of children, nought but a corrector of youth, a pedestal! A vile producer, a libertarian! That I should gaze upon such naked immortality, such a disillusion!”

“Calm yourself Primm. The child must have crept in at night when I was asleep. I had not the first idea that he was with me until now.”

“Sir! I beg your pardon. But the sight of him, I could only jump to one confusion.”

Batchelor jumped to one too.

“Leave us for a few moments will you Primm, I will ring when I need you. I must have a few words with Master Charles.”

“Shall you try to arouse him, sit? I think he should be aroused straight away.”

Even Lord Batchelor had difficulty in deciphering precisely what Primm had intended to say, but satisfied himself by informing her that he would send the boy down shortly.

“I will draw him some water for his absolutions,” she said as she exited.

By this time, Charles had awakened and was gazing at his uncle, smiling innocently and naively.

“Good morning, Uncle Albert. I trust you passed a pleasant night?”

“Yes, thank you, Charles. But may I ask why I find you in my bed when I awake, and without your night-shirt unless I am mistaken?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t find it in myself to sleep last night. I have never slept alone before, and I never wear night attire as my father says it is too restricting and unhealthy.”

“Why who else sleeps in your bed room if you don’t sleep alone?”

“No one, sir. I sleep with my father in his room, and his maid oft-times. I believe my own room is used to accommodate the younger house guests when we have them.”

Batchelor absorbed this information gradually. He remembered the japes he and his brother sometimes got up to when they were young and that his brother had a certain propensity for attracting the attentions of youthful farm hands and villagers. He was older than himself and Albert had never been asked to participate in the games they played in the barn and other secluded places on the estate, but had fair notion as to what they were about. It seems that things hadn’t changed all that much.

Simultaneous with these thoughts, he also realised that he was damp in his nether regions and slipped a hand down to confirm his suspicion. Bringing his soiled fingers to his nose, he knew instantly what he’d found, much to his embarrassment. Glancing at Charles, he saw he had a devilish grin about his face.

“I hope you don’t mind sir, but as I was awake early and noticed that you hadn’t emptied your sacs, I did it for you.”

“Why? Why did you wish to do that?”

“My father says that they must be emptied at least once every day elsewise they may turn blue with the overfilling of semen. In addition, at my age, the more frequently they are attended to, the fewer lewd and lascivious thoughts I will have. But to be frank about it, I find that doesn’t always meet with success.”

“Oh,” was all he could reply.

“I help him to stimulate his membrum virilis until the sacs empty themselves and he does it to me, but I can’t produce but very little yet. He says it won’t be long though before I can make much more of it and we must keep trying to make it happen quickly. I can’t wait until then. The feelings, I understand, are very satisfying.”

“Err, yes they are,” Batchelor said, “Or at least I comprehend they are.”

“In the temporary absence of my father, would you like to try for me sir? Look, it is ready for you.”

With that, Charles lifted the bed covers and displayed his very erect member waiting for someone to attend to it.

“Oh, I say!” was all Albert could declaim.

“If you please,” Charles said quietly. “It is very ready for you, and unless you give me some attention soon, I shall have to do it myself and I shan’t enjoy that as much.”

Without waiting for a reply, Charles grasped his uncles hand, placed it on his penis and showed him what to do. With a sigh, Batchelor performed the duty Charles had begged of him, partly because the boy appeared to be in some distress due to this lack of expected attention, and partly because he found he rather liked it once he’d started.

Accompanied by the ever-increasing moans of satisfaction from the child, Batchelor continued the stimulation until Charles, with a loud groan and shudder, emitted quite a respectable amount of seed onto his chest and navel.

“Thank you, sir. That was most enjoyable. You do it differently to my father or the maid, and I think you have made me produce rather more than I usually do. Take a look.”

Once again, the bed covers were lifted and Batchelor was invited to examine the results of his labours. The boy was correct – there was certainly more fluid there than he could make at the same age.

“I do believe that it the most I have ever produced,” Charles said happily. “And the texture is different too. I must tell my father that I think I may be able to fill my sacs properly now.”

Lord Batchelor was in no fit state to process this information, his own member having ejaculated for the second time that morning, simultaneously with Charles.

“Did Master Charles give you satisfaction with his reasons?” Primm asked as they were breaking their fast some time later.

“Oh, yes, thank you,” the master replied. “Most satisfactory. Apparently he suffers from bad dreams, especially in houses he is unaccustomed to, and he felt in need of some solace and comfort from a member of his family.”

Primm nodded in agreement, and added, “His behaviour is understandably erotic in a strange house. I trust you were able to attend to his needs?”

“Indeed I did, and believe I made him somewhat happier is so doing,” Charles smiled at Primm. “In fact I may ask his father, my brother, if he can stay for another day or two if that is acceptable: I think the change may be beneficial for both Charles and I.”

Primm nodded in agreement, and turning to face Master Charles said, “I apprehend now that last night when I said that you sleep with ‘Your Good Lord and Saviour’, you apprehended I meant Lord Batchelor, but I meant He Who Dwells Above. I would be most incontinent for you to stay as long as you wish. A truckle bed will be placed in the master’s room for you to be satisfied on if he agrees.”

“That is an excellent idea, Primm,” Lord Batchelor said. “The situation will be rather fluid I believe for a few days. I will communicate with my brother and appraise him of the situation instantly.

“Oh, I must deport myself from here,” Primm suddenly said, “The sacks need emptying.”

Charles and Albert looked at one another with concern until Primm added, “The flour has just been delivered and needs transforming into the store room.


Once they had breakfasted and dressed themselves appropriately, Albert, Lord Batchelor and his charge, young Charles, summoned a Hackney carriage and wound their slow way to Charles’ father’s club. Although it was mid-morning, it was early as far as Lord Batchelor was concerned as he rarely ventured outside his home until it was time for luncheon, of which he partook at his own club, the Misogynist. He was somewhat taken aback at the volume of the traffic, the narrow streets being filled to capacity with horse-drawn wagons, drays and carriages of multifarious types. In between the heavy vehicles, dozens of small boys scurried around with parcels and deliveries, not a few of whom had secreted themselves on the backs of carts and carriages to obtain a free ride.

Albert took the opportunity to engage Charles in a little conversation as their journey progressed, albeit slowly. After the unusual, and not uninteresting events of the morning, he was intrigued as to what sort of life-style Charles led at home, and wished him to elucidate thereon.

“So, young man, how is life at home? Satisfying?”

“Yes, thank you sir.” Charles responded, staring out of the window, bemused by the sheer volume of traffic passing before his eyes. “There are more people in this street alone than in the village and on our entire estate co-joined,” he mused almost to himself. “I wonder that there are sufficient houses for them all.”

Lord Batchelor had often contemplated the same thing himself and conjectured that only half the populace had homes and that they shared them, taking half-day turns to live in them.

“Do you attend any scholastic establishment?” Albert queried.

“Oh, no sir. There aren’t any suitable day ones close by and my father won’t permit me to attend a residential school as he says that certain practices which are endemic in them are unhealthy for a young man such as myself.”

These practices Lord Batchelor was certainly well acquainted with as both he and his brother had graced Hill House Residential School for the Sons of Gentlefolk with their presence for a number of years. He smiled inwardly as he recollected the nocturnal gatherings of the ‘Blue Lantern Club’ which met in the sports pavilion on occasion, and the one particular episode which had led to his brother and a naive eleven-year old almost being dismissed ‘for conduct unbecoming gentlemen’. Things had only been resolved when the Bishop had reminded the Head Master that if he sacked from his school every boy who committed the sin of Sodom, then he would soon have no establishment to run. ‘Rather,’ the Bishop had continued, ‘remember your own school days and punish the miscreant for being caught ‘in flagrante’ instead of the actual sin.’

With this thought uppermost in his mind, he looked at the black-haired young man by his side and contemplated whether or not the lad was quite as innocent as he appeared.

“I have a tutor, Doctor Catulus, who attends upon me every morning. He educates myself and the sons of the Doctor and Vicar simultaneously in the schoolroom.”

“And does he perform adequately?”

“Very much so, sir. He is most assiduous in his duties. He is particularly adept at teaching us Latin and Greek, especially the names of our body parts which he does by allowing us to take it in turns to undress and point them out for the benefit of us all.”

Lord Batchelor found himself picturing the scene the boy was describing, and rather to his embarrassment was aware of a growing difficulty in his groin, not aided by the fashionably tight trousers he was wearing. Fortunately, the Hackney drew up outside The Ganymede, Lord Biggun’s London club, before anything further could develop.

Alighting quickly, the two ascended the steps to the impressive portal where they were greeted by the supercilious Hall Porter.

“We are here to attend Lord Biggun,” Albert said. “This is his son, Lord Charles, and I am Lord Batchelor.”

“Very good sir,” the Porter said obsequiously, “If you would care to wait in the Morning Room, I will inform him of your presence.”

Charles was obviously accustomed to the room as he immediately settled himself in a window seat and gazed out at the bustling street below. Lord Batchelor picked up ‘The Times’ and tried to read it, but was somewhat disconcerted by a very large nude painting of the club’s namesake hanging over the fireplace. Averting his eyes was to no advantage either as he noticed that there were several smaller paintings affixed to the walls, all of a similar nature and theme.

“Ahem!” he heard from behind him as the Hall Porter entered the room. “Lord Biggun will be with you presently,” he said. “In the meantime, would you wish to partake of some refreshment?”

“No, thank you,” Albert said. “I am content to peruse the newspaper.”

“Very good, sir.”

Not long afterwards, he was pleased to hear Lord Biggun arrive, accompanied by a handsome and rather dishevelled Telegram Boy, who seemed to be not above14 years of age.

“Not bad news, I hope?” Lord Batchelor said as he extended his hand.

“What?” Lord Biggun replied, taking the proffered hand.

Then, noticing that his brother was looking at the messenger boy, blushed slightly as if just remembering he was there, added, “Err, the boy had been attending upon me. He is just about to leave for his employment I understand.”

Lord Biggun dipped into his purse, gave the boy a gold sovereign and thanked him. The lad smiled, bowed slightly and left together with the Hall Porter, adjusting his dress as he did so.

The two men spent a pleasant two hours catching up on each other’s doings and various family matters. Although Lord Batchelor was thanked for accommodating Charles so readily, no mention was made by either of them of the other events until the boy came over to join them.

Lord Batchelor was rendered speechless for a moment when he heard the boy declaim quite matter of factly, “Father, Uncle Albert was kind enough to attend to me this morning and I think I managed to produce a rather greater quantity of fluid than is usual for me.”

Without missing a heartbeat, Lord Biggun smiled at his son, and congratulated him. “Perhaps the change of venue and a different hand may have had some effect. Let us pray that it continues to improve.”

“Thank you, father, I hope so too. Lord Batchelor has also asked if I may stay for a few days more, if that is possible. He has intimated that a visit to the Zoological Gardens and the Botanical Gardens at Kew may be beneficial and I would very much like to take advantage of the invitation.”

“Of course, Charles. In any case, the damage to the carriage is rather more serious than I was led to believe, and it will be a day or two longer before repairs are completed. I will remain here in the meanwhile.”

“Thank you, father. I trust the messenger boy attended to your needs satisfactorily?”

“Yes indeed he did. I find that they may be a little uncouth and unclean on the whole, but they perform their task well enough.”

“Good. I will feel easier in my heart knowing that you are not being neglected during our temporary absence from home. I was pleased that Uncle Albert was there for me, but was concerned that you had no one here for you. I had quite forgotten about the Telegram Boys, but now I recollect them, I am happier and look forward to staying in Belgrave Square with more equanimity.”

The first of Lord Biggun’s business associates appeared at this point, and with a sense of relief that no further conversation could be had on this particular topic, Lord Batchelor gathered up his nephew and left them to their debate.

Foregoing the use of a Hackney carriage, Lord Batchelor and Charles walked the short distance from the club to the Zoological Gardens and partook of some light refreshment before joining a small party of visitors on a guided tour. It was whilst they were perambulating that Albert mulled over the rather strange situation that he had found himself in with respect to his nephew Charles.

Lord Batchelor had never shown very much interest in the more carnal aspects of life; he was aware of that and was quite content, knowing that in all probability his brother more than made up for any lack of activity on his part. Charles was another matter. He appeared to be more knowledgeable on the subject than any other boy of a similar age and was quite at ease discussing it, although, Albert noticed, never in the presence of other than his close family it seemed. What Lord Batchelor’s brother and anyone else engaged themselves in, within the confines of their own home, was no concern of his and from what he understood from Miss Primm, it wasn’t too unusual in rural communities. He glanced over at the boy as he thought and looked at him in a new and contemplative light. Whatever the boy’s motives and intentions were, he had certainly awoken in Lord Batchelor a hitherto dormant aspect of his life: one which didn’t displease him.

By the time they returned to Belgrave Square they were both a little tired and welcomed a light meal and a cup of refreshing tea.

“So where have you been exorcising yourselves today?” Miss Primm enquired genially.

“We went to the Zoological Gardens and observed the wild animals,” Charles replied.

“Oh, I can’t be doing with that,” she smiled. “All those carnalivorous beasts make my heart flutter at even the mere conception of them.”

“They are all safely kept behind iron bars,” Lord Batchelor informed her. “And they didn’t seem too interested in making a meal of anyone.”

“But they are all unclothed, as naked as the day they were born,” she shuddered. “I don’t think young children should be exposed in that way.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “Young men like Lord Charles may observe all their gentiles, which isn’t opprobrium.”

“You may be correct, Miss Primm,” her master replied. “But I am sure the authorities take pains to ensure that the animals are well-behaved at all times.”

“A pail of cold water is what they need,” she answered huffily. “And now, let me attend to the young master’s absolutions. I am certain he must be infatuated with vermin after visiting such a licentious establishment.”

“Thank you Miss Primm. I’m sure Charles will appreciate it.”

“I have taken the liberty of browsing some clothes from the Vicar for the lad to acquire himself in whilst I clean his dress. If he would be so kind as to excite himself to the bath room, I will relieve him there.”

“Will you be desirous of attending me to inspect my washing?” Charles said to Lord Batchelor with only the faintest of smiles.

“Of course, if that is what you require,” Albert replied, not altogether unhappily.

“It is expected, sir.”

Miss Primm waited patiently outside the bath room as Lord Batchelor observed the boy undress, reluctant to assist him as he had a strengthening in his groin which made movement painful. This wasn’t aided when the lad, once denuded, stood uncomfortably close to him inviting a detailed inspection before stepping into the water.

Opening the door slightly, Lord Batchelor handed his housekeeper Charles’ clothes and in return was given a bundle of replacement ones, those borrowed from the Vicar’s son.

“What are those, sir?” Charles asked.

“Temporary attire for you whilst Miss Primm cleans your own. They have been kindly loaned by the Vicar who has a son of your age or thereabouts. I trust you are not averse to wearing them for a little while?”

“Oh, no sir. That will be perfectly in order. It may even be rather exciting wearing the clothes of another, particularly the undergarments as I believe they are often made of a coarser material than my own.”

They chatted idly whilst Charles attended to his bath, Albert noticing how assiduous he was in ensuring every inch of him was soaped and scrubbed carefully. Thankfully the lad managed to restrain himself from becoming unduly excited, ensuring his male part remained flaccid. Until, that is, he came to wash around it. Slowly it engorged and was soon standing upright, its head showing just above the surface of the water. Charles seemed to ignore it completely as he recounted his visit to the Zoological Gardens to his uncle. There was something on his mind though as Lord Batchelor was about to find out.

“I thought the Primate House was particularly interesting,” he said as he soaped his upstanding member with just a little more vigour than was absolutely necessary. “The apes and monkeys seemed rather obsessed with their membra virilis. I observed them being stimulated quite openly and without any sense of shame, even in front of the females.”

“That’s because they are animals, without the benefit of any sense of morals or shame,” Lord Batchelor explained.

“But I suppose it makes them feel good too, and relieves the boredom,” Charles grinned, watching his hand emulate the actions of the primates.

Lord Batchelor chose to ignore this comment, electing in its stead to adjust his own now fully engorged member, his gaze fixed upon the little pink cherry sprouting from the water.

Having finished his ablutions, Charles lay back in the water and relaxed for a few minutes, his hands laying idly on the edges of the tub, allowing Lord Batchelor a completely unimpeded view of his body.

“I wonder how snakes copulate?” he suddenly asked. “I failed to observe any reproductive organs on any of the ones I saw, and I looked as closely as I could.”

“I’ve no idea, I haven’t ever given it much thought, I must admit,” he smiled, “But I am sure we will be able to find out somehow.”

Taking advantage of a lull in the conversation, and anxious to avoid any further questioning on this particular topic, he encouraged to boy to step out of the water and dry himself. Whatever intentions he had in keeping his thoughts pure though were soon dissipated when Charles handed him the towel and asked his uncle to dry him, commenting that he always managed to miss somewhere and in any case it would be an opportunity for Lord Batchelor to inspect him.

As he attended to his charge, he once more examined the boy’s body closely, finding to his surprise that he remained aroused by him, and moreover that he enjoyed it. Charles too seemed keen for Albert to continue as he twisted and turned in every direction to enable his uncle to reach all parts of him. When he came to his private area, Charles did no more than place his hands on Albert’s shoulders and thrust his hips forward slightly, enabling his uncle to dry him thoroughly, including his erection and delightful testicles.

“They’re not turning blue are they?” Charles asked devilishly. “It certainly feels as if they are.”

“I don’t think so,” Albert replied, looking at them closely. “Maybe just the slightest hint.”

“I thought so. It must be the thoughts I had, thinking of the primates. Perhaps they need emptying, uncle Albert. Would you like to attend to it? I believe you may like yours drained too.”

Twenty-four hours ago, Lord Batchelor hadn’t had a lustful or lascivious thought for many years, the redoubtable Miss Primm efficiently discouraging any thoughts of coition quite effectively, and masculine sex he had grown out of many years previously. But now, all his primal urges seemed to have been awakened by this boy and he needed them satisfied.

“Very well, Charles. Perhaps you are correct in your assumption. How would you like to proceed?”

“Well, sir, I am completely without clothes which I find is the most satisfactory way to begin. If I might make so bold, sir, perhaps …….?”

“Of course. But we must make haste else Miss Primm may begin to wonder what is keeping us.”

Despite the intricacies of Lord Batchelor’s dress, between them he was undressed in short order and stood nakedly in front of Charles, allowing him to take a good look at him.

“You and my father seem to be equally well endowed sir,” he said, taking hold of Albert’s member. “I hope I will be similarly fortunate when I am fully grown.”

“I am sure you will in the fullness of time,” Albert replied with no little difficulty as his mind was elsewhere, mainly relishing the tactile sensations of Charles’ not inconsiderable manhood.

“Let us make haste then,” Charles whispered. “I am certainly in need of some relief, and I hope you are too.”

Neither of them lasted very long, and in rapid succession they deposited their respective fluids in the bath water, each ensuring that every last possible drop was extracted, much to their mutual enjoyment.

They dressed hurriedly and were ready just in time for Miss Primm to appear and collect Charles.

“I have prepared a repost in the kitchen for you both, sir,” she said, gathering up the soiled towels.

“The accoutrements of the Vicar are aqueduct for the young master I think,” she added, looking him over.

“I feel quite strange attired in the dress of another,” Charles said over tea, “It is not an unpleasant feeling, especially in the nether regions,” he whispered to Albert. “But I fear he must be a shade smaller than I as they are a close fit.”

“Fear not, Charles. They are only for a short time whilst Miss Primm refreshes your own clothes. It won’t be long before you may remove them.”

Lord Batchelor didn’t immediately realise the import of what he’d said until Charles looked up at him and whispered with a sly smile, “I hope not sir. I look forward to it.”

The remainder of the day was spent relaxing in the house: Charles researching the breeding habits of species ‘serpentes’ and Albert reading his ‘Times’ in between cogitating on the matter of himself and his nephew.

“Will Master Charles be riposting in your chamber, sir?” Primm enquired as bed-time approached. “If so, I will needs arrange it.”

“I think so, Primm. Charles is still a trifle nervous in a strange house.”

“I think you are correct in your surprise, sir. You are a fine, upstanding gentleman for being so comprehensive of his nervousness. He will no doubt be appreciative of the attentions you erect to bestow on him.”

“Thank you. We will retire as soon as his bed is ready, young Charles is quite exhausted after a long day exploring the city and needs to rest.”

“Very good. At what time will you both arise, sir?”

“Nine o’clock will be early enough. If we are not down for breakfast by then perhaps you will awaken us?”

“Of course, my Lord. Master Charles is a quiet, genital boy who needs all the bed he can get. Cities are too depilating for adulterant boys who only know the country way of life, and his large endowment keeps him apart from others of his rank.”

Albert had decided that he would accommodate his nephew’s peculiar foibles whilst he was a guest in his house, after all, he rationalised, there was no reason to disturb what was obviously a set routine in his own household and no good would come of upsetting it. In any case, Albert would be able to return to his normal state of chastity once the youngster had departed.

Once in their room, with the door firmly closed, the two relatives looked at the truckle bed which had been placed alongside Batchelor’s own large one.

“It looks rather uncomfortable,” said Charles. “It is certainly a great deal smaller than I am accustomed to.”

“If you prefer, you may share mine,” Albert said quietly. “But we must first disturb yours so that Miss Primm isn’t unduly perturbed by its apparent lack of use.”

Grinning at his uncle, Charles roughed up the small bed, making it look as if it had been slept in.

“There. I think that will suffice,” he said, sitting on the more accommodating and softer bed.

“I feel quite strange wearing these clothes, almost like a commoner,” he went on. “Perhaps I shall pretend to be one until the morning.”

Lord Batchelor ignored this comment and put it down to normal childish playfulness, at the same time hoping that it didn’t prevent him from following his normal practice.

Quite soon they were in bed, neither of them wearing the night attire provided for them by the ever-thoughtful Primm. Charles wrapped himself as close to his uncle as he could and rested his head on his shoulder.

“May I kiss you goodnight, uncle?” he said, eyes sparkling. “I don’t feel especially tired yet and it may help me sleep.”

In reply, Albert lifted the child’s head up and allowed their lips to meet. Instantly, Charles’ tongue was inside Lord Batchelor’s mouth, much to his surprise.

“Where did you learn that?” Albert said, completely taken aback as it was the first time anyone had ever done that.

“Why, Annie, my father’s maid taught me. She says that is the way you are supposed to kiss someone you admire greatly. Isn’t that the way you do it?”

“Err, yes it is. I was just surprised that you knew about it,” he lied.

“Oh good. May I do it again? I find it helps me become excited.”

They kissed, cuddled and caressed for a good while, both aware that the other had become as hard as could be in the process.

“I think that I’m ready now,”Charles whispered throatily as he pressed his member into Albert’s thigh in demonstration.

It only took a few delicate strokes for Charles to spasm violently and ejaculate his seed onto his uncles chest. He was indeed ready.

“My penis is still engorged,” Charles noted once he’d regained his breath. “I am sure I will be able to do it again shortly. May I pleasure you whilst I wait?”

Willingly, Albert agreed.

Charles was gently fondling Albert’s member when, without looking directly at his uncle he said, “Uncle Albert, may I try something different?”

Albert Batchelor would have agreed to anything at that moment in time, just so long as Charles brought him to a climax as soon as possible.

Albert watched interestedly as Charles rolled the bedcovers back and approached his erection with his head. What happened next was far, far beyond his experience and something he’d never even imagined could, or should, be done. Charles engulfed his swollen member in his mouth and began to suckle on it, just as if he were at the breast. The feeling left Albert speechless and more aroused than ever he’d been. The novelty of the situation and his over-excited state soon ensured that he climaxed massively, much to Charles apparent pleasure as his satisfied groans testified.

“Goodness!” Albert said after Charles had surfaced. “Don’t tell me your father taught you that!”

Charles had the grace to blush at this and looked guilty.

“No sir. May I confide a secret to you?”

Lord Batchelor nodded.

“Symes, the coachman’s son, does it for me once in a while when father is away from home and my testicles are blue. I must admit, the feeling is rather good, as you will agree. But I’ve never done it to anyone else before, I don’t think my father would approve.”

“What, you haven’t even done it with Symes?”

“Oh, no sir. He is only a village boy and I wouldn’t ever contemplate doing such a thing to him, I may ingest some of his seed and that would be most inappropriate. I think I should only perform that act with someone of equal status. Such as yourself!” he giggled.

Lord Batchelor could understand his thinking, and sympathised with it.

“I am ready again now. Would you like to try to do it to me, uncle?”

“If you insist,” Albert said. “But you’ll forgive me if I am unsure as to exactly what I must do.”

“All you need to do is put it in your mouth and suckle gently. You must keep your teeth away though, it may hurt if you don’t.” Then, after a thoughtful pause, went on, “It should be possible to do it together if we re-arranged ourselves, and then you may imitate me.”

After a little experimentation, Lord Batchelor found himself with his 13-year-old nephew’s penis in his mouth, and his own member between the same boys lips. The sensations he felt superseded anything else he’d experienced in his life he decided, particularly when they both ejaculated their semen once again. After a few self-congratulatory kisses, the two fell asleep with well-satisfied smiles on their faces, dreaming of what the morrow would bring.

Fortunately, the two were up and around before Miss Primm had cause to disturb them. Charles had to make use of the water closet quite early in the morning, and the feel of his nephew’s cold body climbing back into bed awoke Lord Batchelor from what he thought was a delightfully erotic dream until he glanced over and saw his nephew’s head on the pillow alongside him, his silky black hair framing a most wondrous face.

“Good Morning, Charles,” Albert yawned. “I trust you are well?”

“Good Morning, uncle. Yes, thank you, I feel well rested. I regret disturbing you so early, but I had to relieve myself in the closet.”

“No matter. I am pleased to see you awake so early.”

“I am usually awake early in the mornings as my father insists that I empty my bladder before we indulge ourselves and he doesn’t like me to use the chamber pot under his bed.”

“Quite.” Lord Batchelor replied, a little disturbed by the boy’s frankness in discussing what aught to be private bodily functions, especially so early in the day.

“May we play around for a while?” Charles asked with a smile on his face. “I believe we have some time before we must get up and face the day.”

“I would like that,” Albert answered. “You are only here for a day or two longer and I wish to have some more pleasant memories to remember you by. It may be a long time before we have another opportunity to be so close to one another.”

Charles slid over and covered his Uncle’s body with his own, his lips meeting with Albert’s and his penis solidly hard between them. Tightening his thighs, he ensured that Lord Batchelor’s erection was firmly gripped between his legs before slowly rocking back and forth, kissing his uncle deeply all the while.

Lord Batchelor took the opportunity to allow his hands to wander over the body of the lad, taking immense pleasure in the smooth youthfulness of it: he was indeed very handsome he thought, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes and he familiarised himself with every inch of it, but most particularly those parts currently grasped in his fingers.

They were both quite close to climaxing and so a break was taken lest their fun be drawn to a premature close. Looking at Charles, Albert stroked his hair and asked, “What games do you and your father play? What other tricks do you have hidden up your sleeve?”

“None sir, I regret to say. My father never permits anything other than straightforward manipulation of our organs. He considers anything other than that unnecessary and lewd.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. But you seem to have a few ideas of your own.” Alfred said, wishing that there were a few more things he could be taught.

“I regret to disappoint you, but there are several things I have thought I would like to try at some time if you don’t mind. The boy Symes and I have experimented a little but I am averse to taking things too far with him due to his station in life and he can not always be depended upon to be as clean as one might wish. In any case, the fear of discovery weighs heavily on both of us.”

“Quite so, that would be most unfortunate. But what devilish ideas have you conjectured?” Albert asked, smiling in anticipation.

“I fear that they may take some time to attempt adequately, Uncle. Perhaps we may try later in the day? For now, I would be delighted to take you by mouth again if that is acceptable. And perchance you will return the favour?”

And so they did. Lord Batchelor, not being in such as state of shock as he was previously, took his time and savoured the boy’s offering deliciously, discovering that the salty muskiness of the male organ was not altogether an unpleasant taste. The sensation of Charles’ lips and amazingly prehensile tongue was also creating in him a delight he would long remember and would crave for interminably.

With a glance at the mantel clock, Albert regretfully informed Charles that the time was rapidly approaching when they must stir themselves and present themselves to Miss Primm.

Rather regretfully they drew things to quite satisfactory conclusions and dressed themselves for breakfast.

“What are our intentions for today?” Charles asked as his uncle inspected him following his bath. “Are we to explore the Botanical Gardens?”

“I’m not entirely sure. First we must pay a visit to your father to determine whether or not your carriage is repaired, then we will decide what we shall do. By the way, I trust there are no traces of blue today?”

Charles grinned and stared down into his groin. “No, I believe not. In fact my organ appears a little redder than usual. I hope that is a good sign.”

Albert fondled the organ in question and agreed that it looked in the prime of health. “Perhaps it benefits from frequent massaging,” he smiled.

“I hope so, I find it a most refreshing past-time. Perhaps if we forego the Botanical Gardens, we may be able to continue the treatment back here.”

“If that is your wish, I would be most happy to accede. Perhaps after luncheon when Miss Primm is taking her afternoon nap?”

“An excellent notion, Uncle. I look forward to it.”

Some time later, Charles was left perusing the Ganymede Club library as Lords Arthur and Albert conversed, relaxing in the comfortable red leather chairs by the fireside.

“I trust my son has been no trouble to you?” Lord Biggun asked. “He can be a trifle excitable at times, if you understand my meaning.”

“He has been a pleasure to be with, I found his excitement rather refreshing in fact. Living alone I failed to realise how much I miss the company of young men. And Miss Primm is quite taken by him.”

“Quite so. Quite so. I understand perfectly. So there would be no difficulty in accommodating him again should the need arise in the future?”

“No, brother. None at all. As a matter of fact, it may be beneficial to both of you if he were to stay in Belgrave Square on your visits to London. I could take him to the various museums and other places of benefit and you could pursue your business and , err, other interests, unfettered by the need to entertain him.”

“Excellent notion! I feel we have a perfect understanding of one another, as brothers should. Young Charles can certainly be a drain on one’s resources at times and I am sure you will get along famously as he has already intimated to me.”

Lord Batchelor smiled to himself at the ease with which his idea had been accepted – and he had a feeling that young Master Charles wouldn’t be disappointed either. “So, when is your carriage to be returned?”

“All being well, late this afternoon. I hope to pass by Belgrave Square just before tea to relieve you of Charles, but rest assured, I don’t think it will be very long before he pays you another visit. I can see my business bringing me to London more frequently in the future now that I can depend upon your good self to accommodate him.”

“You are both welcome at any time,” Albert replied. “I enjoy both his company and yours, you make a refreshing break from the tedium that is London these days. But now, I must attend upon the young man. I promised to take him to the Botanical Gardens, or somewhere equally stimulating.”

“Very good,” Lord Biggun said, rising to shake his brother’s hand. He then added, very quietly, “In the meantime, before out next visit, you make like to engage the services of the young man whose name and place of work I have noted on my visiting card. I can assure you that he is both discrete and wholesome. I believe you may have caught a glimpse of him yesterday morning.”

Lord Batchelor glanced at the card, slipped it in his waistcoat pocket, thanked his brother and departed, collecting his nephew on the way out.

“So, young fellow-me-lad, apparently you are to return home later today now that your conveyance has been repaired. What would you like to do in the meantime? I fear a journey to Kew will be out of the question as it is too far for us to travel in the limited time we have at our disposal.”

“Perhaps a stroll through St. James’ Park will suffice for today, uncle Albert, then we will not be too far from Belgrave Square. I fear I may then be in need of some reviving while Miss Primm has her afternoon rest.”

The implication was not lost on Lord Batchelor, and it was with some excitement that they took a walk through the park, which just happened to be on the shortest route home anyway.

“Did you find anything of interest to read whilst I was talking with your father?” Lord Batchelor asked idly as they strolled along.

“I revised my Latin, Uncle. There is a copy of the Vulgate Bible in the Ganymede’s excellent library and as it is the same edition that we have at home, I took the opportunity to peruse it. I do have one query though which it raises, one which my tutor seems reluctant to answer although I have enquired of him several times.”

Thinking he was on safe ground, Batchelor had no hesitation in asking what the question was.

“What was the Sin of Sodom that caused the city to be destroyed by fire and brimstone?”

Alfred was quite sure that the boy knew the answer, almost every schoolboy did in his limited experience.

“I believe it is an unnatural act which may be committed between two males, one for which Sodom was well renowned.”

Without a moments hesitation, Charles responded, “You mean when one inserts ones member into another’s fundament?”

“Yes, something akin to that.” Albert replied, a touch embarrassed.

“It is the same as buggery then?”

“Something like that, I suppose. Sodomy is the word we use today, taken from the Bible of course. Buggery is derived from the country of Bulgaria, where the vice was once thought, wrongly, to be commonly practiced. We also obtain the word ‘vulgar’ from the same origin.”

“But if it is so wrong, why is it a not unusual occurrence among our farmhands? I have heard Symes mention it on more than one occasion in my hearing, and other too when they are unaware of my presence.”

Despite his better judgement, Lord Batchelor was disinclined to change the subject of conversation as he found it stimulating, particularly bearing in mind what they had planned for the afternoon. It was thus the topic of discourse for the rest of the walk home, Lord Batchelor treading a very delicate path between condemning the practice outright as he aught, and a willingness to experiment if the opportunity arose, knowing that it was a practice not unheard of in his school-days although, unlike his brother, he had never partaken of it.

Their conversation drew to a close as they entered the house to find that Miss Primm was already at her rest, rather to their relief. Lord Batchelor left her a note on the kitchen table informing her that Charles was to be picked up later that day, and that they would rest undisturbed until then.

Once in the privacy of their room, it was Lord Batchelor who initiated proceedings, the walk and rather interesting discussion with his nephew having succeeded in arousing him immensely. Young Charles was delighted to be invited to share the large bed with his uncle and was visibly excited as he climbed, naked, under the covers to seek comfort and solace.

It was with enormous satisfaction, not to say delight, that they kissed each other deeply and tenderly, tongues entwined. Both were aware that this was the last time they could be so intimate for some time to come, and were determined to derive as much pleasure from it as possible. Even their penises were ignored for a time as they reminded themselves of what their bodies felt like under roving fingers.

Before long, Charles let Albert know what he wanted to do most as he gently probed around Lord Batchelor’s posterior with his fingers, essaying one or two attempts to enter him. It was on the third try that he succeeded and was amused to hear a surprised, but happy, groan from his uncle as he did so.

The next stage caused them both much merriment and delight as together they experimented as to how to persuade Charles’ membrum virilis to follow where his fingers had been. After trying several different positions and lubricating themselves with copious amounts of spittle, success was achieved with Albert’s legs placed over his shoulders. Cautiously Charles edged himself deeper and deeper in until he could go no further, encouraged in his efforts by Albert’s evident enjoyment.

“This feels most exhilarating, I must say!” Charles gasped, eyes closed. “How does it feel, Uncle?”

“Most satisfying. Perhaps if you were to move in and out slightly, the pleasure would be increased.”

And so it proved to be. Such was the elation they both felt that Charles, having ejaculated once, was able to maintain his hardness and remain embedded in his Uncle until he too produced his semen. Not once, but twice.

So energetic were their endeavours that once they had spent themselves, a brief nap was necessary in order to regain some of their strength. Once they’d re-woken, Charles thanked his Uncle for being so accommodating in allowing him to learn something new, and informed him that, having done it the once, would be more than willing to repeat the exercise should he so desire.

“I fear though, that your member is rather too large for me to accept easily,” he said regretfully. “Perhaps if I practised at home with some appropriate vegetables then eventually I would be able to absorb it.”

“I don’t wish you to do any harm to yourself on my behalf,” Lord Batchelor replied, “But if you are able to achieve that aim, then I would be more than happy to oblige you. Perhaps on your next visit?”

“Most certainly. I have no doubt that I will be able to do that. In the meanwhile, perhaps I may take you in my mouth?”

Needless to say, any thoughts of rest were long forgotten as the two resumed their pleasures and it was only when they heard Miss Primm moving around that they decided to call a very reluctant halt to their activities.

“I am prostate with grief at losing Master Charles so soon after his arrival,” Miss Primm said as she bustled around getting their tea. “Without fear of contraception, I can say that he is the epigram of politeness and good breeding.”

“That is so, Primm,” Lord Batchelor agreed. “But don’t fret. I have persuaded his father to allow him to visit us on a regular basis in future. He feels the change in surroundings may do him some good.” Then added inspirationally, “Provided that he shares my room until his nerves are improved.”

“That is an excellent notion my Lord. Visiting Belgrave Square will remove him from the propane behaviour of the country-folk with whom he is surmounted. It is to be hoped that he will benefit from intimate relations with you in the future.”

“I couldn’t agree more Miss Primm,” Lord Batchelor replied, only just managing to avoid blushing at the unintentional accuracy of the statement.

“Observe, sir, the child has slipped into the Arms of Morphine, so relaxed is he in our companionship.”

Further discussion, thankfully, was postponed as a knock on the front door announced the arrival of Charles’ father. It was unfortunate that they couldn’t remain very long in the house if they were to reach home before dark and so it was with a deal of regret that Lord Batchelor and Miss Primm bade goodbye to their house-guest, but not before extracting a promise that Charles would return just as soon as possible.

Watching the carriage depart, Lord Batchelor fingered the visiting card presented to him by his brother and wondered how he could get in contact with the Telegram Boy. Perhaps it would be possible for Lord Batchelor to learn something new from him, to enable him to turn the tables and teach Charles a few novel things on his next visit.


Part 2 – Lord Batchelor’s Special Delivery

Within minutes of his brother departing for home with his nephew Charles, Lord Alfred Batchelor was already missing the young rapscallion. In the few short hours that he’d been in his company, he’d developed a fondness for the boy which surprised him, not only by the unexpected ability he found he had for making friendships, but in this case by the very nature of that friendship.

Sex had never played a very important part in his life and indeed he had taken great pains in banishing all such thoughts from his mind whenever they arose and he’d succeeded to the extent that the only club he belonged to was the men-only Misogynists and the only female he saw on a regular basis was the aged Miss Primm who had been his nanny when he was a boy. All that had changed though, as within a few hours of Charles’ unexpected arrival when the boy had introduced him to what turned out to be a most instructional two days. Shaking his head as if to clear the distracting lewd and lustful thoughts from his mind, he settled down to read the day’s newspaper, determined to rid his mind of all such ideas and return to his hitherto celibate and sedate life.

After reading the same article three times, and still not comprehending a single word of it, he gave himself up to contemplation. The behaviours the boy had demonstrated, the fact that he was obviously at ease with such mannerisms and above all else, the fact that Lord Arthur Biggun, Albert’s brother and Charles’ father had given tacit sanction to them gave him much food for thought.

Eventually he decided that the romp with the boy was just a little adventure, and although enjoyed by both parties, it could not and must not be repeated. In any case the boy was now thirty miles away, out of reach and in theory also out of mind.

Idly, Lord Batchelor extracted the business card his brother had given him and placed it at the back of his pocket book.

Once in bed, his thoughts returned to Charles whose shapely body had so recently occupied the empty space beside him, and the pleasurable activities they had shared. Lord Albert then performed an act he hadn’t carried out since he was a mere stripling of eighteen, and re- discovered to his surprise that it was a very satisfactory quietener of the mind and an excellent precursor to sleep.

A day or two later Albert had almost succeeded in relegating the episode to history when he was reminded of it by Colonel Staid, ex Indian Army and the very epitome of the British Raj – self-opinionated, bombastic and intolerant of all faults except his own.

They’d had a very full lunch in their club and were digesting it in the elegant lounge and drifting into a pleasant post-prandial nap when the Colonel harrumphed and commented, not for the first time, that the world was going to the dogs.

“What has raised your ire this time,” Lord Batchelor said, knowing that the Colonel was about to tell him anyway.

“My Member of Parliament has been found with a delivery boy in what they describe as somewhat dubious circumstances,” he spluttered. “In my day he would have been horse-whipped!”

“Who? The politician?”

“No, the boy of course! The Member of Parliament would be promoted out of harms way.”

“Surely, that sort of thing happened in the army too?” Batchelor ventured to say, aware that it was sure to shut the old man up.

“Never. Not in my regiment. If a soldier was caught with his trousers down, he would be flogged.”

“And the Officers?”

“Sent up country to work with the natives.”

Not wishing to pursue the matter further, as expected, Colonel Staid pointedly renewed his perusal of the paper.

The matter would have ended there, except that from somewhere behind him, a younger voice commented that it wasn’t only delivery boys who were so free with themselves, but so were the attendants in Turkish Baths, Telegram Boys and soldiers from Chelsea Barracks. “Or so I’ve heard,” he added quickly with a hint of embarrassment evident in his voice. Lord Batchelor recognised the speaker as a foppish young man with whom he was acquainted slightly having played Pinochle with him on occasion.

Albert frequented the Turkish Baths on a monthly basis, finding the communal steam and massage rooms quite invigorating, but until now had never considered that other, more esoteric activities may be available. Being forced to drop the newspaper he was supposed to be reading into his lap, he closed his eyes and pretended to doze, his mind filled with images of virile bath attendants, soldiers – and Telegram Boys.

Most afternoons Albert filled with games of bridge or chess with his fellow club members, but today he was in no mood to sit still and so took himself out for a walk to try and clear his head. Without planning to go anywhere in particular, he eventually found himself outside the Ottoman Turkish Baths, an establishment he was vaguely familiar with and so, on impulse, wandered inside and paid for a steam room and massage.

The routine here was the same as in the baths he normally used: undress in your own cubicle and wearing the loin cloth provided enter the steam room. Once you had had enough, then a short walk took one to the cooling off room where a massage may be had before taking a rest: Lord Batchelor had followed this same route a myriad times, but today he watched events occurring around him with particular interest. Firstly he observed that the masseurs varied in age from what he guessed must be forty-something down to boys who appeared to be no more than twenty years of age – none of whom fortunately did he find especially attractive. What he did notice however was that some members decided to take their massage in the privacy of their cubicle and that it was the younger masseurs who were chosen. Feeling rather daring and fairly safe in his anonymity, he enquired of a passing masseur as to how one arranged a private massage. Without displaying any sign of censure, the young man informed him that all he had to do was ask his preferred masseur when he would be available.

“But,” he was also told, “Some of the more popular may have to be booked in advance. If Sir has a preference, perhaps I may enquire on your behalf?”

Lord Batchelor hadn’t actually got as far as selecting one, but glancing round quickly, he indicated a fair haired youth across the room.

“Ah, Master Thomas. Quite popular is Master Thomas. If Sir will wait a moment, I will enquire as to his availability.”

He was told that he could be accommodated in about 30 minutes, and perhaps in the meanwhile he would like some refreshment.

“Lemonade or barley water is usual, Sir. You may pay Thomas for it on completion of your treatment if that meets with your approval.”

“Of course, lemonade if you please. Thank you.”

So that’s how it is arranged, Albert mused as he entered his cubicle and waited. Quite civilised.

Thomas appeared on time with two tumblers of lemonade balanced on a tray and wished Lord Batchelor good afternoon. “If Sir would like to lay face down on the table, I will commence your massage.”

Batchelor did as he was asked, aware that the foot-square pieces of cloth intended to cover his loins did little to hide his modesty when prone, although that didn’t appear to disturb the masseur as he expertly started work on his shoulders and worked assiduously down his back.  Once he reached the cleft in his buttocks, he changed and worked from his feet upwards.

In the normal way of things, Lord Batchelor would have relaxed and allowed the luxurious feelings wash over him as the man did his work. This time, in the interests of research, he concentrated his mind on the youngster’s technique and although there was no discernible difference between this and any other massage he’d had, he needed to change position twice in order to make his erection more comfortable.

When he was asked to turn over, his member stood upright, the pyramid of white cloth serving only to advertise his problem.

“Don’t concern yourself, Sir,” the masseur said as he smoothed oil onto his chest. “That often happens to my gentlemen.”

Lord Batchelor closed his eyes and tried to thing of something else, like Miss Primm. This had no effect at all as whenever he pictured her wrinkled face, somehow it merged into the far more attractive one of Charles. Ignorant of these thoughts, the young man carried on with the massage as normal, but when the probing fingers reached the point beyond which no man should decently stray, Albert was aware that they stopped moving, but weren’t removed.

“Would Sir wish for the complete massage?” he heard a voice say quietly.

There was no way could Lord Batchelor deny that that was just what he wanted, but what was being offered was beyond the bounds of decency, and moreover it was offered by a man he didn’t even know. Screwing his face up in an agony of indecision, he replied:

“Yes, please, if you would be so kind.”

Of the man’s consummate abilities there was no doubt: he knew the precise points to stimulate for maximum enjoyment, and within two minutes Lord Batchelor had been brought to a satisfactory and enervating climax.

After washing his hands, the masseur picked up his tray of unconsumed drinks and offered it to Albert. A glass of lemonade was taken, and replaced with a golden guinea.

On his way home, although feeling a deal better than he did before, Lord Batchelor decided he was also a little dissatisfied. The relief he’d been given was efficient and quick, but cold and impersonal. He’d had more pleasure abusing himself, he thought, and it was as if nothing when compared with the delights to which Charles had introduced him. And that thought sent him off on another track: that indicated by his brother. The mysterious telegram boy who his brother found so accommodating would be an excellent start, but how to locate him? There were a number of Telegraph Offices in the district and the lad could come from any one of them. He could, of course, ask Lord Biggun, but Albert would prefer to keep the matter discrete in case by mishap Charles came to hear of his enquiry. The only other source would be his fellow club member who seemed to be well informed on the subject.

And so it was that Albert managed to inveigle himself into a game of Vingt-et-un the following morning with the aforesaid young man, whose first name happened to be David he discovered. Despite the pair losing, they had a pleasurable hour or so with two other rather elderly members who had sharper wits than their age would have allowed for, following which they repaired to the bar for a pick-me-up. After a brief discussion of their card game, Albert ventured to broach the delicate subject on his mind: he was certain by now that David would be familiar with how to acquire suitable young men for a spot of entertainment.

“So,” Albert started, “That was rather something with the Member of Parliament and the delivery boy. All a bit of a shame really.” Carefully he didn’t enlarge upon who the shame devolved upon, the boy or the man.

“It is a great pity,” David replied, his tongue loosened by the brace of Napoleon brandies he’d consumed. “What a man does in his private life and within the confines of his own home should not be the concern of others. An English man’s home and all that.”

“I quite agree. No harm was done, and if the assertion is true, then it must have been acceptable and agreeable to both parties.”

“Certainly. My judgement is that someone must have reported them to the authorities. Perhaps the green-eyed goddess had a part to play.”

“There must be any number of men who partake of such a past-time in a great metropolis such as London is these days.”

“I believe so. And there is a more than adequate supply of boys to meet their needs. One only has to ask in the right quarters.”

“And where would they be found?” Lord Batchelor asked innocently, his heart beginning to beat faster as he approached his goal.

“The attendants at the Turkish Baths are usually a good source of information if one prefers older, as are the music halls and theatres.”

“And younger? Such as delivery and telegraph boys? How would one locate one such as they?”

“A trifle more difficult, but not impossibly so.” David leaned in closer to Lord Batchelor and in brandy-laden breath whispered, “I myself am not averse to a little, how shall I phrase it? A little youthful exercise? I have a particular favourite whose services I avail myself of once in a while. All I needs do is send him a message through any one of his friends, offering him a day and time, and in reply he will confirm the appointment.”

“Really! It is as easy as that? And what remuneration would they expect? I assume they are paid for their services?”

“Yes, but only a relatively small amount. Their weekly wage is only a few shillings and they will gladly spend half a day with you for half a guinea. A full guinea will buy them for the entire day and night should you require it.”

Already Albert could sense the information reaching his nether regions which were becoming excited at the prospect of such an illicit encounter. Fortunately his new friend David failed to observe this and appeared to have forgotten the conversation already as he unsteadily concentrated on ordering them another brandy each.

Foregoing luncheon, Albert took a walk to his brother’s club, the Ganymede, a plan forming in his mind as he ambled his way there. Fortunately the Hall Porter recognised him as Lord Biggun’s brother and a small tip ensured him entry on the pretext that he was due to meet Lord Biggun in a short while. In the meanwhile he used the club notepaper to pen a message for the telegram boy. Removing the card from his notebook, he confirmed that the boy’s name was Edward Welcome and wrote him a simple note, telling the boy who he was, reminding him of the occasion on which they’d met and inviting him to visit his home the following day at three in the afternoon if that was convenient. Adding a comment that he would of course be compensated for any trouble to which he might be put, he sealed the missive in an envelope and appended the boy’s name to the outside.

Apologising to the Hall Porter for his apparent misjudging of the day for the appointment with his brother, he ascertained at the same time that the nearest Telegraph Office was just a few streets away.

On his arrival, and in exchange for a few pennies, a fellow messenger boy confirmed that this particular office was indeed the one where Edward Welcome worked and that he would be pleased to deliver the message to him. The lad gave a bright, knowing smile to his benefactor, accepted the note together with a few more pennies for his trouble and went on his way.


It was with a feeling of intense excitement and anticipation of what the morrow might bring that Lord Batchelor retired that night. As he lay in bed, he gazed at the full moon through the window and hoped that Charles was doing the same – in a sense he felt that it united them in spirit. He had a great deal to thank the boy for, young though he was: after all it was he who had introduced him to the new world he was beginning to explore, one which he was pleased to have been shown. The fact that he now knew without any doubt whatsoever that he found the company of other men far more congenial than that of ladies was of no consequence in the slightest. What was of greater import was that he knew what he did like and had taken steps to address that feeling. The little experiment with the Turkish Bath attendant confirmed too that he had an age preference as well. He was just contemplating what sort of adventures he might have with the messenger boy, and what he would learn from him that a potential difficulty occurred to him.

It would be calamitous if Miss Primm were to learn about his foible: he knew that her nature would lead her to castigate him most severely at the very least for his lapse in decency, and at the worst inform the authorities. Although he doubted the latter very much, it was still worthy of consideration and he would prefer not to put her, or himself for that matter, in such a delicate position. He needed to formulate a solution.

The answer came to him early the next morning as he dressed for breakfast. He would send Charles some sort of gift under the pretext that it was for his birthday or something similar, write letters to both him and Lord Biggun, and dispatch Miss Primm to deliver them.

Fortunately she was amenable to this disruption of her routine and welcomed the opportunity to see Master Charles once more; she even suggested that she take a small gift of her own, a newly-made fruit cake she had made.

Albert wrote a long letter to his brother which in point of fact said very little except a few inane comments about his visit to London, and adding a word or two that he intended to take up Lord Biggun’s suggestion that he avail himself of the Telegram Boy’s services ‘at some time in the future’. He also penned a letter to Charles and after enquiring after his health, education and other such matters, thanked him for behaving so well on his recent visit and hoped to see him again in the near future when they could continue with their educational explorations. He knew that if his father read the letter, such a comment would be no more than would be expected: Charles and his father would interpret the significance of the comments differently though. Lord Batchelor also added a separate page, written in Latin, just for Charles’ benefit as he knew his brother had long forgotten any Latin he may once have known.

In the additional note, Albert told Charles how much he missed him and their ‘experiments’ together and hoped that they would be given the opportunity to renew their acquaintanceship in the very near future and that Charles should inform him how the experiments with the garden vegetables were progressing. Leaning back in his chair for a moment, Albert thought for a few minutes and returning to the letter intended for his brother, added a post scriptum asking if it would be convenient for Lord Batchelor to pay him a visit in the not too distant future as it had been a long time since he had seen the estate and in any case desired a change of scenery.

Reading the two letters through once more, they were sealed and handed to Miss Primm for delivery.

“If you wish, you may stay overnight with Lord Biggun and his family,” Albert said on impulse. “It is a long distance for you to travel in just one day and I fear it may tire you. I will stay at my club tonight, where I intend to dine anyway.”

“That is most perspicacious of you sir. I shall enjoy partaking of the country air and the prospectus of meeting with your brother and the Honourable Charles fills my heart with solicitude.”

Thus the two parted happily, both excited at the adventures the remainder of the day promised to bring.

Once the redoubtable Miss Primm was on her way, Albert wandered about his home restlessly. A glance at the mantel clock informed him that he had at least three hours to wait before his guest arrived – an absolute age considering the agitated state he was in. He moved a few items of decoration around and tried re-arranging the furniture, but soon gave up as he knew Miss Primm would only replace them on her return. He picked up a book and tried to read, but even that didn’t alleviate the nervous tension he felt and so in a fit of frustration he donned a top coat and went for a walk in Hyde Park.

As his mind was fixed on what adventures he and Edward Welcome would get up to, it was only to be expected that Lord Batchelor had eyes only for the boys, of whom there were a number in the park. Choosing to sit on a bench facing The Serpentine he couldn’t help but notice the working-class boys swimming in the cool water, many of whom wore ill-fitting second-hand costumes that left but little for him to imagine although they were the usual once-piece woollen costumes covering the body from the neck to the groin. The sight of the frivolous youngsters fitted his present mood perfectly and it was with great pleasure he watched them cavorting in and around the water, idly deciding for himself which ones he found most appealing. Smiling gently to himself he marked them all down as attractive specimens of boyhood, it was just that some were more handsome than others – one in particular taking his notice. The lad seemed to be having trouble ‘down below’ as he kept absent-mindedly tugging and pulling at what must have been his erected ‘membrum adulescens’. This remained unnoticed by his companions by and large with the exception of one who seemed to be his particular friend. Once in a while the friend would brush against his fellow and casually pass a hand over the swelling, delaying for a moment or two as he made contact. There was no sign of animosity between them for this indelicateness, indeed knowing conspiratorial smiles passed from one to the other. Lord Albert assumed that the two urchins would be indulging themselves in a rather more private game in the not too distant future.

It was thus in a happy and expectant mood that he left to make his way home, the time having passed quite profitably as far as he was concerned.


A few minutes before the appointed hour saw Lord Batchelor standing at his withdrawing room window, watching the passes-by in the square and keeping a watchful eye open for his young Mercury.

And there he was! Lord Batchelor’s heart missed a beat as he gazed upon the lithe form of the boy walking purposefully towards his house. At a single glance he took in the dark-coloured tight uniform in which the boy was attired, the pill-pox hat set back in a jaunty fashion on his head, and below that a smooth, innocent-looking countenance.

Hardly had the bell been rung when Alfred opened the door, startling the young lad with the speed at which his ring had been answered. Instantly re-gaining his composure, the boy enquired whether this was the home of Lord Batchelor.

Giving the lad an affirmative reply, he invited him inside and together they went into the library.

Albert had decided to be as open and frank with the boy as he could decently be, after all they both knew why they were meeting and that it would be to no advantage to try and hide his lack of experience in these matters as the lad would soon divine that for himself in any case.

“I’m pleased that you could make the appointment,” Alfred started by saying. “I was in some doubt as to whether you would accept my invitation.”

“Thank ‘ee Sir,” the boy replied in a broad Cockney accent. “I knows you is a relative of Lord Biggun and as me and him is well acquainted, I had no doubts as to your being an upright gent and so ‘ere I is, willing to oblige your Lordship in any way I can.”

“Thank you. Lord Biggun is my brother and I can assure you that I will be as discrete as he in the matter to hand.” As he spoke, Albert gazed at the youth, fascinated. He very rarely spoke to anyone from his background, and with such an accent he found it almost as difficult as Miss Primm’s peculiar language to decipher. His features belied his speech though: he was uncommonly attractive and quite at his ease seemingly, he could have passed for the son of any well-born gentleman but for the common manner of his speech.

“Would you like to sit down and make yourself comfortable? I think I needs explain a thing or two before we become too, shall we say, ‘further acquainted’. You are called Edward I believe.”

“That’s right, Sir. Edward Welcome.” As he said this, he removed his hat and unfastened the first few buttons of his jacket, revealing that he wore no shirt beneath. “I don’t wear no uvver clothes underneef,” he explained. “This weather’s too ‘ot.”

“Quite sensible, I am sure.” Lord Batchelor coughed nervously before he carried on, “This is the first time that I have indulged in such a thing as this and am a complete novice, so you will forgive me if I make a mistake or two in my ignorance?”

“There’s no such fing as a mistake, gov’nor. As long as we both enjoy ourselves then there’s an end of it. If I dissatisfy you in any way, you tell me. And I’ll tell you the same. That way we will both be as ‘appy as Larry.”

There was little else to be said at this juncture and an awkward silence ensued, both knowing what should occur next, but neither having the temerity to broach it. Eventually, it was the resourceful Edward who broke the silence.

” ‘Ave you anyplace cooler, my Lord? This room is a bit ‘ot and I wanna get comfortable.”

Grateful for the suggestion, Lord Batchelor led the way upstairs.

Once in his chamber, Albert loosened his cravat and shirt and placed his hands on Edward’s shoulders. As the boy showed no sign of rejection at this over-familiar contact and even seemed to welcome it, Lord Batchelor summoned up his courage and ventured, “You really are quite handsome. May I undress you?”

Edward laughed lightly and said, “We ain’t gonna do nuffin unless you does. And by your leave, I’ll do the same to you.”

It was as much a delight removing the clothes the boy wore as it was with young Charles, few though they were. As each item was discarded, Edward’s handsomeness became more apparent: he could perfectly understand his brother’s attraction to him. Before too long they were standing face to face expectantly, their clothes left where they fell.

They looked at each other’s nakedness, absorbing the sights for the first time. Albert saw a lithe, rather pale-skinned youth who could be no older than 15 years at the most. His beauty was vastly improved by his nudity, his body being perfectly proportioned and unmarked. The already tumescent penis was a little larger than Charles’ but that was only to be expected, and unlike Charles, there was a slight dusting of curly brown hair at the base of it which served to emphasise its beauty.

Edward gazed at the body of a very healthy and attractive man, not too well muscled, but neither was he skinny either. His hard prick, embedded in a forest of black hair was very like his brother’s, a bit longer and thinner than most he encountered, which he liked better as it made certain exercises more pleasurable and less painful.

Without a word, Albert folded the bedcovers back and slid between the sheets, taking Edward by the hand and inviting him to do likewise. Edward moved up close, rested one leg across Lord Batchelor’s and relaxed happily.

“This’s what I likes,” he sighed, wriggling his body in delight. “There ain’t nuffin better in the ‘ole world.”

“Albert stroked the boy’s hair and smiled at him. “What shall I call you? Edward seems a little too formal.”

“Me friends call me Teddy, or Eddie mostly.”

“Good. Eddie it is then. How old are you may I ask?” he added, reaching for, and grasping the lad’s erection, noting that it was just a bit longer than his handwidth.

“Don’t rightly know sir. Me muvver writes down what she finks best when she ‘as to. The Telegraph Office finks I’m fifteen. Me mates fink I’m fourteen. Some of my gents fink I’m sixteen and others only firteen. I’m what ever you like as long as you’re content, but I fink fifteen is about the mark.”

They chatted away idly for a few minutes getting accustomed to each other, hands exploring gently as they did so. Within seconds, Lord Batchelor began to appreciate the boy’s experience as his fingers discovered certain parts of his body that caused waves of passion to course through him uncontrollably. Albert copied him, eliciting moans and groans from the youth that excited them both.

“You leave fings to me, sir, seeing as you’re new to the game. I can show you a fing or two which’ll send you to ‘eaven if you let me.”

Lord Batchelor was more than willing to do so, mainly because his mind was so full of the incredible sensations being created by the boy’s roaming hands that he was incapable of any other decision. The only way he was keeping any grip on reality at all was the knowledge that in his hand he held the slender, silky-soft penis belonging to the young satyr alongside him in his bed and an arm wrapped round his shoulder.

Curled up around Albert as he was, Eddie began by simply opening his mouth to treat his new friend’s nipples to a most wonderful suckling, ensuring both were treated equally by his teeth and tongue. Only distantly did he hear the ecstatic moans from his bed-partner, he was much more aware of the shivers of delight shuddering through Lord Batchelor’s body and the strengthening of his manhood. Once he felt the nipples erect themselves, he lifted his head up, grinned broadly and pressed his lips against Lord Batchelor’s, allowing his tongue to enter the moist cavern. In response, and in a frenzy of passion, Alfred clasped the boy tightly and all but devoured him, pulling him over so that he lay atop of him, their members laying side-by-side between them.

Without warning, Batchelor’s body spasmed and shook violently as he ejaculated fiercely, his semen spreading out warmly between them.

Lord Batchelor never used foul language, but he came as close to it then as ever he had, regretting that he had climaxed so quickly, bringing their game to a very premature close he assumed..

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Eddie. “I didn’t mean for that to happen so soon.”

Eddie laughed in reply and kissed Alfred again. “Don’t fret yourself guv., that always ‘appens if I’m doin’ a good job and you’re ‘appy. Now you is spent, we can get down to some serious business. First fing you gotta do is return the favour and I ain’t as easy as you is.”

“How?” Albert asked. “What do I do?”

“Blimey, guv.” Eddie grinned. “You can do it how you wants, but what I likes best is a bit of mouth and a bit of ‘and. You ‘ave done it with your mouth afore ain’tcha?”

“A long time ago, when I was younger than you!” laughed Albert. “I may be a little out of practice.”

” ‘S’all right. It’s like ridin’ a bike, once you done it, you never forgets. Just mind yer teeth is all.”

Albert started off tentatively. He had, of course experimented a little with Charles but he really hadn’t the first idea of whether he’d been doing it correctly or not. Luckily, Eddie still retained his foreskin as had Charles; somehow he didn’t find penises which had been de- skinned as attractive as when they were as complete as nature intended.

“Oh, that’s right! That’s good!” Eddie moaned. “You remembers good. Keep doin’ it just as you is. You’s doin’ fine.”

With only a minimum of interruption, Eddie turned himself round and settled himself kneeling astride Albert and took his manhood between his lips. His hitherto softened member rose up again as Eddie performed miracles with his tongue and hands. This time Albert knew he wouldn’t ejaculate so quickly and was able to enjoy the attentions immensely. On the other hand, Eddie himself was slowly building up to his own orgasm which he encouraged by offering a piece of advice to Lord Batchelor once in a while.

“Oooh, that’s the ticket! Now a bit of ‘and. Now try and get yer tongue inside me skin. Lordy! That’s it! Keep goin’, I’s gonna blow soon.”

When he burst forth, Albert was unable to avoid swallowing more than a modicum of the juice, but rather than revolt him as he thought it must, he found that it was not an unpleasant taste and took it without complaint.

And so it was that the pair filled in a very pleasant two hours, at the end of which both were  well and truly satiated. Albert had learned a great deal from the youngster, all of it good. If this was an example of how delightful sex can be, he fully understood his brother’s (and Charles’) seeming preoccupation with it! He also regretted how much enjoyment he’d missed over the years. They were embracing lightly in that strange state between waking and sleep when Lord Batchelor kissed Eddie gently and asked if he were able to spend the night with him.

“Sorry, Guv. I would love to, but I gotta get home to see me old mum, she’s expecting me.  But p’raps I can do it another day?”

Lord Batchelor thought quickly, and realising that Primm took Sundays off to attend Church and see her sister, invited Eddie to spend the day in his company.

“I am free all day on Sunday if you are available,” he suggested. “My housekeeper will be away and we will have the house to ourselves.”

“Lovely,” Eddie smiled. “An’ seein’ as I ain’t got no work to do or Church to visit, it’d be a pleasure.” Then, with a wink, added, “Fer both of us!”

“You don’t have any other gentlemen to consider, then?” Albert asked curiously.

“No guv. The only gents I do is at the Ganymede, like the Lord your brother. I don’t put myself about like some of the others ’cause if my old lady ‘ears about me, she’d ‘av me guts!”

“And how do you find my brother? I trust he takes care of you?”

“Well enough, sir. He pays me handsomely but, if I might be so bold, treats me as if he owns me and he don’t take much trouble to please me as much as he aughta. I gotta make sure I get off first ’cause he drops off soon as he’s made his stuff come and forgets ’bout me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I trust you were satisfied today?”

“Oh, yes guv. There ain’t many gents as would be as kind as you. Some can make demands of me which would turn your ‘air grey! But you was OK, treated me gentle-like. If you ‘adn’t, you wouldn’t see me ‘ide for dust!” he grinned.

With another kiss, the appointment for Sunday was confirmed and with reluctance Lord Batchelor watched Eddie dress himself, hiding his delightful body from view.


Miss Primm returned the following morning having been given a lift by the butcher who was delivering a quantity of pork to the Smithfield market. With her she carried two letters, one from each of his relatives. Deciding to keep the more important one until last, he read that from Lord Biggun first. The content was much the same as his had been, full of inconsequentials and trivia, the only things of note being that he was welcome to pay a visit whenever he desired, wished him good luck with the Telegram Boy and hoped he was keeping well.

Retiring to his drawing room in order to read Charles’ letter in privacy, he made himself comfortable before carefully slicing the envelope open and removing the contents. As expected, there were two enclosures, a short one in plain English and a further, longer one, in Latin. Reading the shorter one first, he was informed that Charles’ remains in good health, is pursuing his studies diligently and thanks his Uncle for the visit to the Zoo, in addition he hoped they would have time to go to Kew Gardens the next time he was in London.

Before reading the Latin, Albert poured himself a glass of port, made himself comfortable and scanned the missive. This piece of correspondence was much more interesting and said things that it was not possible to put in the other, more formal letter.

To start with, Charles said that he was still able to make the fluid come, but as yet he hadn’t achieved the same quantity as he had when with his Uncle. His father, though, had informed Charles that visits to his bed were to be less frequent than previous now that he could ‘produce’. It was almost as an aside that Charles noted the Maid seemed to be visiting more often than she had before and that he was not to bother his mother with such trivia.

“I am quite at a loose end in that respect,” Charles said. “I miss the attentions he gave me and am reduced to abject loneliness and solitary performances, or persuading Symes to do something with me, but he can’t give the same satisfaction that either yourself or father can for the reasons I told you about. Please can you come to visit us soon? Or better still, may I visit you in London?”

Reading between the lines, the plea was heart-felt Lord Batchelor thought and he determined to do something about the boy’s plight as soon as possible. Perusing further, he was interested to note that the experiments with the vegetables were progressing satisfactorily and he was sure that he would be able to accommodate his uncle in the near future!

Laying the letter to one side, Lord Batchelor refilled his empty glass and stared out of the window, picturing Charles with a selection of vegetables in his hands. Resting one hand on his erection, he allowed himself to daydream for a while and smiling inwardly, realised that both he and Charles were rehearsing for the same thing: the difference was that Albert had a live tutor in the form of Eddie to learn with, and Charles had to make do with carrots or cucumbers!

And Eddie was certainly live as he demonstrated on the following Sunday when he turned up on Lord Batchelor’s doorstep precisely at the stroke of noon. Despite being comfortable in each other’s company and agreeing an appointment for today, Albert was still more than half convinced that the boy would think better of their arrangement and not arrive. It was with a pounding heart therefore that he opened the door and admitted him. Both were pleased to see each other once again, and once the door was closed, embraced. Lightly to begin with, but with increased passion as they realised how much each had missed the other.

“And how are you today?” Lord Batchelor asked as they entered the drawing room, his eyes fixed on the tightly-clad posterior in front of him.

“Fit, fank ‘ee sir,” Eddie replied. “An’ pleased to be seein’ yerself again if I might say so.”

“No more pleased than I am to see you,” Albert said. “I had doubts as to whether you would change you mind and not come today.”

“No danger o’ that milord. I likes it ‘ere and I likes what we does.”

“I’m delighted to hear that and in return I would add that you please me immensely. Are you able to remain for the night, or must you return home?”

Grinning broadly, the lad informed his Lordship that he was indeed able to stay the night, his next appointment being at the telegraph office at half past six the following morning.

“I ain’t not stayed all night in a ‘ouse like this before,” he said cheerfully. “I’s only stayed wiv your bruvver at ‘is club and you gotta be as quiet as a church mouse so’s no one knows you’s there.” Then added wickedly, “An’ I can’t always keep quiet if you sees what I mean.”

This took Lord Batchelor by surprise as he thought the lad would have had several such visits as this in the past – he was certainly amenable to them.

“I’m sorry. I thought this would have been something, err, that you would have had some experience of. There is no reason why you can’t leave and return home whenever you wish if there is a problem or you are not at ease,.” Lord Batchelor said, his heart sinking.

“No problem at all there guv., I told me old lady that I was goin’ all night fishin’ with me mates, like I does wiv Lord Biggun.”

“Doesn’t she want to see some fish when you get home?” Albert laughed, pleased the problem had been resolved so easily.

“Naa. I tells ‘er I sold ’em and gives her a few coppers. She’s ‘appy with that. I don’t do all nights much anyway, only with his other Lordship. In fact,” he added looking a shade embarrassed, “I only does fings wiv your bruvver now, I stopped seein’ other gents ’cause they was ‘urting me too much.”

Lord Batchelor felt a twinge of anger sweep through him at the thought of anyone hurting his Adonis, quickly followed by a feeling of sympathy.

“How do you manage for money, then?” Batchelor enquired.

“Lor’ bless me sir, I don’t do it for the dosh. Me muvver an’ me gets along fine on what we ‘as. I does it ‘cos I likes it. Anyhow if I takes too much ‘ome she’d wanna know where I got it and she ain’t fick, she’d soon add two and two up.”

The real reason for the boy’s presence was forgotten for a while as they talked about each other’s lives. For his part, Albert was amazed to learn that the boy had a good head on his shoulders. His rough outward appearance and common way of speaking belied his intelligence and although he was wise in the way of street behaviour, he had an underlying sense of what was right and proper. This strange mixture intrigued Albert and he wanted to find out more about him, but the lad pre-empted any further discussion by unfastening the buttons on his shirt and smiling at Lord Batchelor in a way which only meant one thing.

“You know the way,” Albert smiled.

By the time Batchelor had climbed the stairs, Eddie was standing in the centre of the bed room, sans clothes and displaying a beautifully upstanding member, pleading for some attention. With two pairs of hands removing his garments, Albert was soon just as naked as his partner and laughing at each other’s indecent haste, they fell on the bed.

Entwining themselves together they kissed and embraced lustily for a joyous few minutes until their initial passions were satiated. Laying across Albert’s chest, Eddie looked into his eyes and smiled happily, running his fingers through his hair.

Whether it was the conversation they’d had earlier, or because of the mood they were in, Albert and Eddie were in fine spirits and for the next hour, all that could be heard from Lord Batchelor’s bedroom were the sounds of two people enjoying themselves. It was very rare to hear the sounds of laughter in the house, and even rarer for either of them to enjoy themselves so much, taking liberties with each other’s bodies that wouldn’t be believed in polite society. Even when breathless with laughter, the two still managed to kiss and stroke each other tenderly, eyes locked together, smiles an almost permanent fixture.

Before they knew it, the sky outside had darkened and evening was drawing in. Taking the opportunity to have a rest, Lord Batchelor lit the gaslights, drew the curtains and returned to the waiting Eddie.

“I’m famished,” the youngster said, grinning, as they lay together embracing. “It fair takes it out of you, don’t it!”

Albert too realised he was hungry, and without further ado disappeared into Miss Primm’s domain, the kitchen. She would not have objected too seriously about her master’s intrusion into her space, but she would have certainly had a thing or two to say about his complete nakedness. She hadn’t seen him without clothes on since he was ten years old, and would not have appreciated seeing how much he’d changed since then, but that was the last thing on Albert’s mind as he raided the larder for anything from which he could make an impromptu meal.

Throwing a collection of cold meats, half-consumed pies and other sundry items onto a large plate, he returned to his bedroom, feeling just as naughty as he did when they had illicit midnight feasts in his schooldays.

Sitting cross-legged facing each other on the bed, they ate hungrily, taking the opportunity to study each other’s naked form as they did so.

“What of your father?” enquired Albert, gnawing at a chicken leg. “You haven’t mentioned him.”

” ‘Ee was gorn afore I was born,” Eddie replied through a full mouth. “Ma says ‘e were a sailor-type, but posh wiv lots of dosh. We never see any of it though. Me ma lived wiv a blacksmith until ‘e upped and died. Ain’t bin no one since. Me ma says her sailor will come ‘ome one day and sort us out. I got the same middle name as ‘im.”

“What’s that?”

“Mario. Stupid name innit. There now,” he laughed. “There ain’t no one knows that ‘cept me and me ma. And now I gone and telled you. Don’t you ever go an’ tell anyone else!”

“Sounds nicer than Eddie, or Teddie, or even Edward,” Lord Batchelor said. “Seems to fit you better.”

“I like that,” Eddie said seriously. “And what of you? I can’t keep saying ‘milord’ all the time. ‘Ave you got another name?”

“My first names are Albert Sebastian James,” he was told. “And like you, no one ever uses the middle ones.”

“Can I call yer Albert when we’s alone?” Eddie asked, nervous at being so forward with a man so far above his station in life.

“Of course you may.”

That settled, the pair finished eating and washed themselves clean before doing anything else.

“Will you show me round yer ‘ouse?” Eddie asked. “I ain’t never bin round one like this.”

Picking up the dirty crockery, Lord Batchelor took his young friend on the tour, neither of them bothering to put any clothes on. He found it rather exhilarating showing Eddie his home, holding his hand as he did so.

“Fanks,” Eddie said as they headed back to the bedroom. “Just one fing more. You got a medicine box?”

“Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

Eddie smiled back and simply said, “I ‘ope there’s somefink in there we’ll want a bit later.”

Albert decided not to press things any further and showed him where the medicine chest was kept. Extracting a small item which he carefully kept hidden, Eddie took his partner by the hand and resumed their journey to the bedroom.

Once back on the bed, the pair picked up from where they’d left off and wrapped themselves in each other’s arms, eyes locked together. The happy-go-lucky mood they’d been in earlier dissipated now as they caressed and fondled each other tenderly, paying much more attention to giving each other as much pleasure as they could. Lord Albert had learned a thing or two from Eddie even in the brief time they’d spent together and was gratified to hear him groan in pleasure as he found the places that aroused him. It made a huge difference, Albert thought to himself, not having to hurry things along. Knowing that they had the whole night ahead  enabled them to take their time and relax completely. Their tumescent manhoods were left untouched for ages as hands wandered over receptive bodies, and lips met in mutual adoration.

Lord Batchelor had a hand gently stroking Eddie’s genital area when he heard him whisper in his ear, “You’d better ease off a bit guv, I’s gonna lose it if’n you keep that up!”

Reluctantly Albert did as he was bid and instead started work on the boy’s nipples, which were already erect and very sensitive to the touch.

“You learns quick Albert,” Eddie stuttered out between clenched teeth. “I can’t take none of that either. Best we take a rest.”

“Wanna try somefink new in a minit?” Eddie queried as they cuddled together.

“What’s that?” Albert replied, eyes closed in contentment.

“Let me put me spike up yer?”

Albert opened his eyes and gazed at the grinning youth.


“You knows, put me thing inside yer. I ain’t never done that afore.”

“But I thought you and my brother ……”

“Naah. He sticks his prong up me bum often enough, but he won’t never let me do it to ‘im.  Says it ain’t right. But ‘ow it can be right for ‘im to do me and me not do ‘im I don’t understand.”

Eddie looked pensive for a moment and then went on, “Some gents ‘ave taken me up the arse afore and they ‘urt me like ‘ell, that’s why I stopped seein’ ’em. No dosh ain’t worth that. But if we’s careful I should be able to get me dick inside yer easy, an’ I really want to.”

Lord Batchelor knew that this was why he’d wanted to meet the lad in the first place, and now the time had come for it to happen, he wasn’t averse to the idea in the slightest. In fact to his surprise he rather looked forward to it as the ultimate offering they could make to each other: it would be a great deal more than a simple physical act of gratification and whether or not Eddie would be prepared to return the favour was irrelevant.

“What do you want me to do?” Albert said quietly.

It took a little arranging, but Eddie eventually had Albert laying on his back with a solid, horse-hair filled cushion under his rump and legs held in the air. Retrieving the item he’d removed from the medicine box, Albert noticed that it was a glass container of petroleum jelly, which would be a deal more efficient than spittle he realised. Carefully, Eddie spread the jelly over his own member and then thoroughly smeared it around Albert’s fundament, ensuring a little was even inserted inside the hole.

When he and Master Charles had essayed the same operation Lord Albert remembered, no little difficulty had been encountered in persuading Charles’ member to enter that forbidden place and although Lord Batchelor found the pain transient, it had been of sufficient intensity for him not to be willing to repeat the exercise. Under the tutelage of Eddie, he now felt that he would be able to accept the intrusion more readily. Not only would the petroleum jelly be a valuable aid, but the relaxed approach they’d adopted and the great pleasure they’d given each other beforehand make the exercise somehow more natural, acceptable and indeed to be welcomed.

Albert placed his hands on Eddie’s hips as the boy knelt between his upraised legs and touched his member against the point of intrusion. With a look of intense concentration, Eddie bit his lower lip and pressed himself forward slightly. To begin with, there was a great deal of resistance on Albert’s behalf, but with a modicum of effort, he managed to persuade the muscle to relax and with a sudden movement, the two found themselves co-joined, united in the sin of Sodom.

Of the pain, there was very little, Albert discovered. Instead he felt a wondrous feeling of fullness and a need for Eddie to hurry and embed himself as far as he could. In an effort to encourage him, he clasped his legs around his waist and urged him on.

Eddie needed little persuasion. With a delighted smile of self-satisfaction and sparkling eyes, he slowly inserted his member as far as he could before stopping to savour the moment.

“That feels wunnerful!” he gasped. “Ain’t never felt anyfink like it afore. All sorta warm and tight and magical.”

Albert smiled back, agreeing totally although he wouldn’t have used quite the same words.

Very carefully Eddie pulled himself back until his member was almost released before re- inserting it: the sensations engendered filled his mind with wonder and for the first time understood why his gentlemen derived so much pleasure from the act and ofttimes didn’t care what pain they inflicted to achieve it.

Lord Batchelor understood too: what he and Charles had experienced was but little compared with this. Eddie’s member was a little larger than Charles, but he knew this had little to do with the intensity of delight he felt, it was much more to do with the tenderness and care they’d shared beforehand, the knowledge that time was not of an essence and the certainty of not being discovered.

Such was the state of excitement Eddie was in that he only managed three or four strokes before his body tightened up, shivered violently and ejected several globules of juices into Lord Batchelor. In return, Albert’s anal muscles contracted as if anxious to extract every last drop of the precious fluid from the donor: simultaneously he ejaculated as big a volume of his own semen as he’d ever done, much to his amazement.

“Bugger me!” Eddie sighed as he collapsed on the bed, completely unaware of the pun. “That were amazin’!”

Despite their mutual happiness at having achieved a much-longed for objective, Albert and Eddie found it next to impossible to talk for very long and they drifted off into contented dozes, embracing tightly.

It was around midnight when Albert awoke to feel Eddie’s lips and tongue curled around his member, encouraging life into it. Placing a hand on the boy’s head to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming, he sighed with relief as he felt soft hair between his fingers.

“That’s a wonderful way to be awakened,” he whispered, spreading his legs apart to allow the boy easier access.

Eddie paused in his ministrations and gave Albert a wide grin before resuming his work. Once he was fully erect again, Albert turned around so that they could both indulge themselves in the not unpleasant occupation at the same time. The taste of Eddie’s earlier emission excited his tongue and Albert sank the boy as deeply as he could into his mouth before working himself inside the foreskin and giving it an exceedingly pleasant clean.

Some time later when they’d run through all the things they had learned they enjoyed, Eddie rested his head on Albert’s chest and stared up at him with puppy-like eyes. The look on his face told Lord Batchelor that there was a question waiting to be asked. Raising his eyebrows, he waited.

“Will yous do me now?” he asked querulously. “That’s wat I wants. To feel yer inside me.”

“Are you sure? I may be a little large for you and I wouldn’t wish to cause you any unnecessary pain,” Albert replied. He chose not to add ‘like the others’.

“Ain’t nuffin else I wants,” he answered quietly. “I wants you to do it badly and I’s ready for it.”

Using the same cushion as before, it was now Albert’s turn to kneel between upraised legs and point his organ at the little brown spot. Taking a fingerful of the jelly, he anointed them both and prepared to enter the youth.

He slid in with ease, a sign of frequent practice he assumed, and with hardly a pause embedded himself as far as he could. Looking at Eddie, he saw the lad smile in contentment, his eyes alight with pleasure.

“That’s magical,” he grinned. “Ain’t never ‘ad anyone get in so easy afore. Must be ’cause I wanted you so bad! Don’t move for a bit, I wants to remember ‘ow you feels.”

A few moments later, Eddie nodded at Albert and he began to roger Eddie in earnest, revelling in the sheer ecstasy it created, his whole being seemingly centred inside Eddie. As slowly as he could he bucked to and fro, determined to give his Adonis as much pleasure as he possibly could. Beneath him, Eddie was writhing and squirming around, lost in a blissful world of his own, lifting his hips to meet Albert’s thrustings and crying out with sheer animalistic enjoyment. The more Albert listened to Eddie’s ecstatic moanings, the more he was encouraged onwards and the harder his member seemed to get. The harder his member got, the louder Eddie groaned and the more he thrashed around.

With a final, desperate plunge, Albert thrust as hard as he could and ejaculated his offering painfully inside the satyr, completely unaware that Eddie had loosed his fluids together with his.

Albert, in post-climactic exhaustion, fell forwards on top of the breathless Eddie and kissed him hard and passionately. Looking up into his face, he was mortified to see tears running down the boy’s cheeks. Withdrawing his now softened member, he clasped the lad to him and asked, “Are you alright? Have I harmed you? What is it?”

Opening his eyes, the boy smiled wanly at Albert, reached up and kissed him firmly, wrapping his arms round Albert’s neck. He then dropped his head onto Albert’s shoulder and sobbed quietly.

“Ain’t never felt like that afore,” he mumbled. “No one ever made me cry ’cause it felt so good.”

Taking the boy into his arms, Lord Batchelor comforted him until he was able to speak more easily.

“Feeling better now, Eddie? I was concerned that I might have caused you some pain.”

“The only pain yous caused me was in me ‘eart,” he grinned. “Ain’t no one made me sob before. I feels like a little kid.”

“You’re not a little child,” Albert whispered. “You are a fine young man and I’m happy that I could please you so mightily. Tears are a sign of joy and affection as well as pain and are not to be discouraged!”

Smiling in contentment, Eddie closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep in Albert’s arms.

Dawn was breaking when they awoke, and a glance at the clock told Albert that it was just before five am. As Eddie had to be at his place of work for half past six, and in addition there was a likelihood that Miss Primm would be up and around soon, Lord Batchelor gently woke the sleeping youth beside him.

Opening his bleary eyes, it took Eddie a few seconds to come too. Yawning widely and rubbing his eyes, he stared at Lord Batchelor and a smile slowly crossed his face.

“I fought it was all a dream,” he said, staring round the room as if to confirm the reality. “Wot we did last night and everyfink. I ain’t ever bin so ‘appy and fought I dreamt it.”

“It was a dream,” Albert smiled. “A dream come true for both of us I think. I trust you feel the same?”

“Yea. Ain’t never ‘ad anyfink like it ‘appen afore. I allus gets kicked out afore anyone knows I’s there,” he grinned.

“Not this time,” Albert said. “Except we must be circumspect when you leave. Miss Primm may be up and around.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “An I don’t wanna meet ‘her do I?”

“I’d much rather you didn’t, it may cause a problem for us both. But we have a little time before you need to depart …..” Lord Batchelor said, taking the boy’s morning hardness in his hand.

“You’s wicked you is,” Eddie smiled, turning onto his back and reaching over to place a hand in Lord Batchelor’s waiting groin.

Shortly before six am, Albert led Eddie out through the back door and towards the garden gate. Checking that no one was in sight, he leaned down and gave Eddie a quick kiss on the lips. “May I expect you next Sunday?” he asked. “I hope you will be free again?”

“There ain’t nuffink more certain, milord,” Eddie grinned, giving a mock bow.

“And I shall be free most afternoons if you wish to pay a visit to relieved your, err, boredom,” Albert added. “You need only send me a short telegram to ensure I will be here.”

“Thank ‘e Sir, I will do that if I’s feelin’ out of sorts.”

Albert reached into his pocket and extracted a couple of sovereigns to give to Eddie.

The boy took a step backwards and lifted his hands in rejection. “If I takes that, it’ll make me feel like an ‘ore an’ cheap. I don’t fink it right to takes dosh for somefink wat makes me feel so good and ‘appy. But there is somefink yous can do for me if you likes. I’ll tells you later when I comes wiv yer telegram.”

With that the boy turned and ran off to work, giving a cheery wave as he reached the corner.

Lord Albert was walking thoughtfully back towards the house when a disturbance startled him.

“You’ve risen up early,” a familiar voice said.

Coming back to reality with a bang, Lord Batchelor sighed inwardly and replied, “Yes, Miss Primm. I slept very badly last night.”

“I’ve been into your room already to see if you was home and I was distributed to see your bed in such a state. It is untidy enough that two people couldn’t make it so, I do believe. You must’ve been tossing and turning all night.”

“Indeed I was, Primm. Indeed I was.”


Wednesday morning Lord Batchelor spent at his club catching up on the latest gossip around town and playing a frame or two of billiards. Among those he played with was David, the dandified young man who had been so forthcoming with information as to how one met ‘companions’. After a couple of questions, it became apparent that he didn’t remember a thing about the conversation he’d had with Lord Alfred , for which he was relieved. The thought that David would remember their conversation was the main reason he’d come to his club, and once he’d satisfied himself that nothing was remembered, he relaxed.

On his return home, he noticed that there was a telegram waiting for him on the hall table.  Picking it up, he surmised that it must either be from his brother or Eddie, and on opening it found to his pleasure that it was a hand-written note from Eddie. He skimmed through it quickly and learned that Eddie would be calling on him at about two o’clock.

Telegrams were an unusual occurrence in the Batchelor household and Miss Primm was beside herself with curiosity as to its contents but decorum prevented her from asking, at least for a while.

“Did you see the missile from the Telegraph Office?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you. It is regarding a matter of no immediate consequence,” he said, knowing that he would have to give a better explanation than that before much longer.

“I am pleased about that,” she went on. “Telegraphic consultations are so often the bringers of bad news.”

“Not so on this occasion, I am pleased to say. It is from a friend of mine informing me that he has been called out of town for a few days on urgent family business.”

Lord Albert was not in the mood to cope with Miss Primm’s rambling now that he had something else to occupy his mind and so retired to his library. He took Eddie’s message from his pocket and re-read it more carefully. Eddie apologised for disturbing his Lordship, but as he found himself with some unexpected free time today, he would like to visit him for a while during the afternoon. He also said that if it were inconvenient, he would understand and would see him the following Sunday as arranged.

Pouring himself a glass of whisky, Albert sat down and congratulated himself on the find he had made in the boy: he was sensible enough not to turn up unexpectedly, and furthermore would understand if it wasn’t convenient. What pleased him most though was the fact that the boy had elected to visit him during his limited free time, and that the appointment for Sunday still stood.

Two hours later there was a ring at the door just after Miss Primm had retired for her rest.

“Special Delivery for Lord Batchelor,” the boy grinned, handing him a telegram form and stepping into the hall.

“I’m very pleased to see you so unexpectedly,” Lord Batchelor said as he embraced the youth.

“Fank ‘ee,” Eddie grinned. “I ‘opes you doesn’t mind me callin’ on yous like this but I bin finking of you all the time and I just ‘ad to sees you agin.”

Albert took the compliment and kissed the messenger on the forehead in thanks. “How long have you got?” he said.

“I gots to be ‘ome for me tea, so’s we got bit a time to spare.”

All the while they were talking, Eddie was looking around the room, his mind clearly engaged on some thoughts of his own.

“What would you like to do?” Albert asked. “This afternoon, I am your to command.”

“Can we sit ‘ere for a bit, guv., an’ sorta pretend I lives ‘ere?”

“Of course, if that is what you would like.”

Eddie sat for a few moments on the edge of a chair, his back perfectly straight rather as he imagined people of quality did. It couldn’t and didn’t last long though as he began to wander around the room, examining several items closely and fingering delicately the ones which interested him the most. Replacing a Venetian glass vase which probably cost as much as the lad earned in a year, Eddie suddenly grinned broadly, rushed across to Albert and sat on his knee, giving him a huge kiss as he did so.

“You’s the tops Albert. I wasn’t gonna do any messin’ abaht wiv yer today, but now I’s’ere, I can’t ‘elp meself. Can we go upstairs?”

Delighted to accept the offer, Albert took the boy up to his room and once again stood transfixed as he watched him undress.

As they embraced in the bed, Eddie sighed in pure contentment.

“I don’t really care if’n we do anyfink or not,” Eddie said as he nestled into Albert. “Jus’ beein’ ere in bed wiv yous ‘olding me is all I needs.”

On one level, Albert was in sympathy with him. The feeling of someone sharing your bed with you, especially one so nubile and young is impossible to describe, more so when you are both naked. On another level though, Albert knew that he would be unable to contain his emotions for too long: already he could feel his own member dripping fluid in anticipation, and Eddie’s erect member pressing into his thigh didn’t help either.

Pulling Eddie on top, Albert kissed him deeply and stroked his back, allowing his fingers to roam from his soft cheeks up to his neck. Eddie purred like a cat and returned kiss for kiss, wriggling his body around, further exciting Albert.

“Will yer do me?” Eddie whispered. “Wiv yer mouth and ‘ands like I likes?”

The two embarked on a vigorous head-to-toe sucking of each other, Albert doing as he was asked, changing position frequently to obtain and give as much satisfaction as he knew how.

With a scream muffled only by the organ filling his mouth, Eddie released himself with a passion he hadn’t shown before and held on to Lord Batchelor so tightly as to be almost painful. Albert’s only possible reaction was to do the same to his young companion and loose his precious fluids down his throat.

Once again, tears slipped down Eddies face as he calmed down, tears which Albert wiped up delicately with his fingers.

Passions spent, they relaxed in each other’s arms and simply looked at one another, smiling.

“Can I ask yer somefink?” Eddie whispered as he drew circles with his finger on Albert’s chest. “An’ promise you won’t laff at me?”

“I promise,” Albert said, intrigued.

“Will yous teach me to talk proper, like you does? I doesn’t wanna be a messenger all me life, I wants somefink better and I gotta talks betterer than I does.”

“What would you like to be?” Albert asked.

“Dunno. Work in a club like yourn, bell boy or somefink. Or in an office writin’ and that.”

“I think that is admirable. We will do our best and see what transpires.”

Albert received a kiss and a broad grin for this.

” ‘Course it means we can’t do none of this,” Eddie laughed, giving Albert’s flaccid member a squeeze. “I’ll be too busy learnin’.”

Albert raised his eyebrows and pulled a face.

“Well, p’raps once in a while if’n I’s doin’ OK. Like a reward.”

“I think you’ll do well,” Albert grinned. “And you can learn just as much in our bed as you can in the schoolroom.”

“Does that means I gets a reward now then?” he laughed.

“Repeat after me,” Lord Batchelor said. “Does that mean I receive a reward?”

Eddie screwed his face up, closed his eyes and said hesitantly, “Does that mean I receive a reward?”

The words were perfect, the accent was execrable, but for a first attempt it was passable.

“Very good. And what reward would you like?”

“Give me ‘an ‘ug and talk to me proper whilst I fink of somefink.”

The ‘something’ involved the use of the petroleum jelly Albert learned, but as their time was limited and Miss Primm was in the house, it was agreed to postpone that pleasure until Sunday. In its stead, Lord Batchelor offered Eddie the loan of a novel, with instructions to read it carefully and out loud to himself when he could. “Look at the words and try to imagine the people saying them,” he said.

” ‘Ain’t never read an ‘ole book afore,” Eddie said as he thumbed through the pages. “Me ma’ll fink I gone nuts or somefink.”

“Call by on the morrow if you are able,” Albert grinned. “I will think of something to tell Miss Primm in the meanwhile so your presence is not unexpected.”

“You means I gotta come tomorrer and the old lady’ll be expectin’me?” Eddie laughed.

“Something like that,” Albert laughed. “But for now, …..”

Laying the book to one side, Eddie slipped into Albert’s open arms and began to show his gratitude.


Lord Batchelor managed to concoct a suitable tale for Miss Primm by the following morning, telling her that after enjoying the company of master Charles, he felt he had a gift for communicating with the young and would like to pass on the benefits of his own education to them.

“I feel that I could teach them a little about the world,” he said. “Young Charles seemed to gain from my meagre offerings and I would like to offer my experience to others of a similar age but rather less fortunate in their circumstances.”

Miss Primm, knowing Albert Batchelor of old, knew that this was almost certainly a passing phase and he would soon lose interest in it, but in the meanwhile it would provide something useful with which to occupy his time.

“That’s very good of you sir. I believe you have a lot to offer a young man who is ignorant of the ways of the world and I’m sure they will be relieved by you. Do you have a particular boy in mind to impregnate?”

“I have offered to take responsibility for a child called Edward Welcome. He is currently working as a Telegram Delivery Boy, but wishes to improve his station in life and I think I may be able to help him in a small way.”

“That is noble of you my Lord. He cannot fail to raise himself after intimate contact with your good self.”

“Quite so, Miss Primm. I have taken the liberty of inviting him here this afternoon so that we will not disturb your domestic routine.”

“Thank you. I will leave out a few victuals for you to consummate afterwards; boys need feeding after their exertions.”

Edward hadn’t had a great deal of time to read the novel, but in any case Albert had decided to work on the boy’s speech to start with. He had the unfortunate Cockney habit of replacing all the ‘th’ sounds he could with an ‘f’ or ‘v’ sound. Telling Eddie this, and correcting it were two different things however. They had great fun persuading Eddie’s lips and tongue to co- operate and mould themselves to the unfamiliar positions – Eddie always seemed to break out in a fit of giggling at the strange sounds he was making- but after a while he managed it and the improvement was instantaneous, much to their delight.

The second part of the lesson was to hear Eddie read and put into practice what he’d been taught. The most comfortable way to do this, the lad decided, was to sit on Albert’s knee so they could share the book between them. What with one thing and another, this turned out to be a mistake as both of them had to constantly interrupt their work to adjust themselves. It was at the boy’s suggestion that they took the book upstairs and resumed their studies in a more congenial place.

Despite the distraction of Lord Batchelor toying with Eddie’s erection constantly, he read the required chapter of the novel before succumbing to temptation and lowering his head into Albert’s groin where this time he managed to get his lips and tongue in precisely the right position.

“I fink – think – I’s gonna – going to – change my name,” Eddie said as they rested afterwards. “I think I’ll be Edward. Eddie don’t seem to fit me no more.”

“Quite right,” Albert agreed as he stroked Edward’s slender thighs. “You are certainly more of an Edward than an Eddie.”


The two didn’t meet again until the following Sunday when Edward appeared on the doorstep as chirpy as ever and anxious to continue his lessons with Lord Batchelor, whatever they might be.

The first hour was spent in the library with Edward practising his reading and speech, but neither of them could concentrate on the tasks in hand – Edward was fidgety and made many mistakes. Lord Batchelor knew the reason why of course, and it was with some relief that they decided to abandon their lesson and retire to the bed chamber.

“Stand there a moment,” Albert said as Edward stood in the centre of the room, his clothes scattered around his feet. “Let me take a look at you.”

Edward wasn’t in the slightest bit embarrassed by this request, and to be honest he rather enjoyed showing himself off. Slowly his hitherto flaccid member rose up to its full glory, accompanied by a broad grin from its owner.

Albert took the couple of steps necessary to reach the boy, embraced him firmly and kissed him deeply. Batchelor was aware that in the short time he’d know the lad, his feelings toward him had changed beyond recognition. What has started out as a fairly simple relationship with Albert wishing to be taught several things by a boy with experience was developing into one much deeper, and one he was nervous about.

Edward sensed this subtle change in Albert and as they made themselves comfortable in bed, leaned over and returned the kiss.

“What you thinking about?” he whispered, afraid that Albert had some bad news for him and that their friendship was drawing to a close.

“Just how handsome you are,” replied Albert, unwilling to admit even to himself quite how he truly felt about the boy.

Edward knew there was more than this, but he didn’t have the words or the courage to ask directly.

“Is I bovverin’ you too much?” Edward asked, not daring to look Albert in the eyes. “Don’t yous wanna see me any more? Is that it?”

Lord Batchelor took a deep breath and held the lad in his arms.

“That’s the difficulty,” he said quietly. “You do bother me, and in ways that I don’t comprehend. I miss you when you’re not here and I wait anxiously for your every appearance. I like being with you, I like talking to you, I like being naked in bed with you as we are now. Perhaps too much.”

“You can’t like someone too much, can yer?” Edward asked, puzzled.

“I don’t know. Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

“Can I tells you somefink. Something.” Edward said, looking Albert in the eye. “Something private?”

“Go on,” Albert replied.

“When I first got that letter from yous, I fought it were no more than another man after me arse in exchange for a couple of guineas like your bruvver. But after a bit I gots to like yer ’cause you treats me decent-like an’ don’t take the mick out o’ me like the others.”

There was silence as Albert absorbed this, and compared Edward’s feelings with his own. Before he could think of anything to say, Edward went on, his voice softer than ever.

“An’ there’s something else as well. I really likes doin’ stuff wiv you an’ I fink you does too. I messes abaht wiv the lads in the office sometimes. You know, pullin’ our plonkers when we’s in the mood, but that’s only a bit o’ fun. Wiv you it’s diff’rent, like we sorta cares for each other an’ we does it ’cause it makes us ‘appy.”

For Edward, this was a long speech and a very difficult one to make, Albert realised. He hadn’t actually considered that the boy had feelings just like him – and it upset him to realise it.

“Are you happy? Really happy?” Lord Batchelor asked.

“You knows I is. Why d’you fink I keeps comin’ ere? An’ it ain’t ’cause yous a lord or nuffin, I’d still come if yous wasn’t!”

“I have feelings for you too. Strong feelings which I have yet to become accustomed to,” Lord Batchelor said. “And that’s what frightens me more than a little. Aren’t you scared of how you feel?”

“I’s only scared I ain’t gonna see yous no more,” Edward said, a pair of tears escaping from his eyes. “I get’s butterflies in me guts when I finks of you, and now I got ’em again sumfink fearful ’cause I’s frightened yous gonna stop seein’ me.”

“I’m not going to do that,” Lord Batchelor said, his mind being made up, for better or for worse. “I’ve come to like you too much. And in any case, we have your lessons to consider!”

There were more tears from Edward, but this time they were tears of happiness and to hide his embarrassment he buried his head in Albert’s shoulder and let them flow; he therefore didn’t see a tear or two escape from Lord Batchelor’s eyes as he hugged the boy to him.

“We’s a pair of silly buggers!” Edward said after he’d calmed down and wiped his tears away with his arm. “Anyone would fink we wus married or somefink!”

Their mood instantly changed to one bordering on hysteria as they romped and frolicked on the bed together, laughing and giggling insanely as the tension evaporated.

Edward found himself knelt astride Albert, his hands pinning Albert to the bed. As he sat back, gazing into his eyes he felt Albert’s solidly erect member touch him.

“Got that jelly stuff?” he said, grinning broadly and emphasised his point by sitting back.

“In the bedside drawer,” Albert whispered.

The fact that Albert, Lord Batchelor, hadn’t been taken this way before hardly registered on his consciousness: for one thing he had thought about it so often that it was almost as if it had really happened, and for another he was so aroused that it seemed the natural thing to do. Especially with Edward’s beautiful, smiling face looking at him.

Once the petroleum jelly had been suitably applied, Edward resumed his position astride Albert, and grasped his wrists. Without once unlocking their eyes, Edward leaned back until he felt Albert’s moist member touch that most intimate part of him and releasing his wrists for a moment, he positioned himself correctly before lowering himself.

Albert entered Edward with very little problem, watching Edward’s face light up with pure ecstasy as his lissom body absorbed him completely.

Albert opened his mouth to say something when Edward shook his head.

“Don’t say nuffin,” Edward whispered. “Let’s me gets used to it. I bin wantin’ yous to do this to me for so long, I wanna remembers it. Leaves it all to me.”

Almost imperceptibly, Edward started to clench and unclench his cheeks, further driving Albert into realms he’d never dreamed of. Then he started to raise and lower himself just enough to be felt at first, but then building up into a rhythm that utilised the whole length of Albert’s offering. Every three or four strokes Edward would stop, gaze tenderly at Albert and  reach down to kiss him.

“Ain’t never felt this good afore, I’s really in the mood,” Edward moaned. “I wishes it could goes on for ever!”

It couldn’t of course, and it was with immense relief that Albert felt himself stiffen up and deposit his juices into his young lover. The combination of Edward’s beatific smile, Albert’s pent-up excitement and the pure bliss of their coupling was sufficient for him to eject what he was certain was a very healthy quantity of fluid.

It was with regret that Albert sensed Edward start to pull himself away; it had lasted all too briefly he thought and he felt cheated somehow. But not for long. Changing his position only slightly, Edward lifted Albert’s legs into the air and pressed his organ into place.

This time it was Albert’s turn to almost shout out in delight as Edward slid himself home, burying himself in as far as he could with one desperate move.

There was no finesse this time: Edward commenced bucking back and forth as quickly as he could, anxious to relieve the tensions inside him, his face now a mask of frustration and determination. Within seconds, his body froze and with a hard, painful thrust he ejaculated. Thankfully, Miss Primm wasn’t around to hear the screams of ecstasy mixed with agony Edward emitted as he orgasmed.

Edward withdrew his tortured organ and fell on the bed, breathing deeply, forehead beaded with sweat and eyes glazed.

“Sorry, Guv. I didn’t means to ‘urts ya. I was so desperate for it, I couldn’t ‘elp meself.”

“You didn’t hurt me. I was so excited myself that I didn’t feel anything. Except you of course,” he smiled. “The best feeling of all.”


Three weeks quickly passed by, during which time Edward had become a frequent and welcome visitor to Lord Batchelor’s home. Albert had even arranged that Edward meet Miss Primm, albeit briefly, just so that any qualms she may have had about the young man may be dispelled. In fact it turned out that she took a liking to him, not only was he ‘working class’ like herself, but he was trying to improve his standing in life, something of which she thoroughly approved.

“That young man of yours,” she said one day, “It seems as if he’s one of the familiar now. He’s always popping up when I least expect it. He’s not making too many demands of you is he?”

“Not at all, Miss Primm. He is a good student and I am learning just as much from him as he is from me.”

“That’s how it should be. A man like yourself can understand how hard it can get for a boy like Edward, and you can alleviate his hardship. And I’m sure he has a good deal to offer yourself if you allow him.”

“Precisely. Well put, Miss Primm.” Albert replied, smothering a grin.

The equanimity of Lord Batchelor’s life was disturbed rather unexpectedly the day after this conversation had taken place. Awaiting him on the breakfast table were two communications, both of which he recognised instantly. The familiar buff-coloured telegram envelope was from Edward, which would no doubt be confirming his next visit. The other was a letter from Lord Biggun.

Opening the more important one first, he noted that Edward would arrive at 2 pm today for his ‘lesson’.

The second, much weightier letter, contained two envelopes, one from his brother and one from Charles.

Postponing the best one until later, he read the one from Arthur first. Typically of his brother, it was brief and to the point. He would be arriving in London in two days time and staying at his club. He was also bringing his son, ‘he’s been pestering me so much that I had no choice’, he informed Albert. ‘The boy seems very anxious to visit Kew Gardens’ he added, and so I have taken the liberty of foisting him upon you for a few days.

Albert had all but forgotten about Charles since his relationship with Edward had blossomed, although he did think of him from time to time when Edward was unavailable. He was aware that he now had a problem to resolve and didn’t have too long to think about it.

The letter from Charles, written once again in schoolboy Latin, was a delight to read, and all the pleasures they’d shared suddenly came flooding back into Albert’s mind as he read it. ‘It took a deal of persuading to get my father to bring me to London’, Charles said. ‘I see less and less of him now and we don’t seem to communicate very much. I visit his bed no more that twice a week nowadays and oftimes have to share it with the maid as well. She has even tried to play with my member, but I don’t like her touching it as much as I do when you do it. In any case, thankfully, it always goes soft when she handles it. Not so with Symes, I am pleased to say,’ Charles went on. ‘After much soul-searching, I decided to take his member in my mouth, and to my surprise his fluids do not taste very much different to my own. He seems to enjoy it too, so that makes up a little for my father I suppose. By the way, I can now absorb a carrot the size of about five and a half inches, which is about the correct size I think? Your loving Nephew, Charles’

Mentally comparing a carrot of appropriate size with Edward’s member, Albert sighed happily.

Edward was nestled in Albert’s arms later that day, as content as could be. They hadn’t made love yet: they both enjoyed the intimate contact with each other and talked quietly about all manner of things as they fondled and caressed. Love making was always left until they were both amenable and as a result was most enjoyable and satisfying every time.

“I have had a message from your brother,” Edward said as he twisted a lock of Albert’s hair between his fingers. “He says he’s coming to London tomorrer.”

Edward’s speech had improved immensely since he’d started his lessons, Albert noted with pleasure. Admittedly, most of them had been taken in the bedroom, but that was the place in which they were both most relaxed.

“Tomorrow,” Albert corrected automatically. “And yes, I know. He wrote to me also.”

“I made me mind up I shan’t go to oblige him this time,” Edward said, giving Albert a kiss. “After all, I have another gent. now.”

“I think you should,” Albert surprised Edward by saying. “There is a complication which you have no reason to be aware of.”

Albert handed the letter to his lover and waited as he read it.

“That don’t mean I gotta, I’ve go to, go and see him,” Edward said, dropping the letter to the floor. “I don’t want to, not now.”

“But he’s expecting you. And he also knows that I have seen you once or twice. He isn’t aware of how close we’ve become though, and there is no need for him to find out,” Albert said, looking directly at Edward. “But I am sure he will blame me if you don’t oblige him and I think we would be better off not upsetting him just at the moment. Perhaps you will have the opportunity to tell him that you are unable to see him again after this visit. That will be for the best, especially if you can arrange a replacement for yourself.”

“I don’t want to go an’ see ‘im, but I will for your sake,” Edward replied. “An’ I knows a lad who’ll gladly take my place. By all accounts he likes the sorta stuff Lord Biggun dishes out more than I does. An’ whose this Charles?”

“Charles is my nephew, his son. He stays here when his father is in town, for reasons I don’t need to explain,” Albert said, grinning at Edward.

” ‘Ow old’s ‘e?” Edward asked, his worry about a possible rival surfacing.

“Don’t worry, He’s only 13. And he’s my nephew as well. The son of my brother.”

“Mmmmm,” Edward mused. “Don’t mean nuffin. Uncles is the worst!” he grinned.

“Not this time. Charles is young and naive, not wise in the ways of the world yet.”

It was the first time he’d knowingly lied to Edward and felt very guilty, but justified it by reasoning it would cause a great deal less fuss than the alternative.

“But yous can teach him, like you do me.”

The grin on Edward’s face told Lord Batchelor than this wasn’t to be taken too seriously, but the point had been made.

“In any case, I don’t mind you messin wiv ‘im just a bit. Whilst I’m messin wiv ‘is dad!” he laughed.

The irony of the situation struck Albert as very amusing, not the least aspect of it being that Arthur probably knew what was happening anyway.

“Thank you,” Albert grinned. “I shall remember that.”

“But if you likes it too much, I’ll rip ‘is knackers off!” Edward giggled as he rolled on top of Albert, giving his testicles a rather painful squeeze.

That was the signal for them both to forget their immediate problems and resort to their favourite past-time. Picking up the jar of jelly, Edward covered his erection liberally and pointed it at Albert.

“It’s my turn today. I ain’t gonna get any for ages now, am I?”


Part 3 – The Solution

Miss Primm had retired by the time they returned home, rather to their relief. They picked at the cold plates she had left out for them, but neither was interested in the food very much. Sly glances from one to the other could mean only one thing, and it was two happy and excited people that ascended the stairs at the earliest opportunity, leaving the meal only half consumed.

“It’s been a very interesting day today,” Charles said as they huddled up close, his member already expectantly erect. “Thank you.”

“I thought it had been,” Albert replied. Did you learn anything?”

“Oh, lots, but I need to think about them before they all make sense.”

“And what’s the most important thing?”

Charles giggled and gave Albert’s penis a slight squeeze. “You know that already. I adore being with you, especially when we are alone like this and we can pleasure each other.”

“And what about the others? The boys in the Serpentine and the men at the sauna?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to do anything like this with any of them, not unless I was really, really, ……”

“Frustrated?” Albert helped.

“Yes. Frustrated. That’s just the word. Like I am when I need Symes. And like I was at the sauna.”

“You were? Frustrated I mean. I thought you were a trifle upset by their attentions.”

“I was. I was frustrated because I wanted to do things with you straightaway. I was excited, but only for you. And I still am,” he giggled.

“I can tell,” Albert said, rubbing the offending organ between his fingers.

Charles pulled a face and said, “I feel that I’ve had enough of being serious for one day, Uncle Albert. Would you mind if we relaxed now and had a little enjoyment?”

“What did you have in mind precisely?”

“Anything that pleases you. But what I want to do most is, …….”he paused, leaned upwards and whispered in Albert’s ear.

Lord Batchelor laughed and ruffled his hair.

“Of course we can, if that is what you desire. First though, I want to kiss you and show how much I am becoming attached to you.”

There were no more words spoken for ages as they confirmed their delight in each other’s company, both of them finding it difficult to believe quite how emotionally attached and dependent upon one another they had grown in such a relatively short space of time.

As if to confirm these thoughts, Charles reached out, grasped the now more than half-empty jar of petroleum jelly and looked at his uncle, the unspoken plea evident in his face.

“Which way?” Albert said quietly.

“May I be selfish and do it to you first? Then I may be able to last longer when it is your turn.”

“There is nothing I would like better.”

Kneeling between upraised legs, Charles lubricated himself and with a deep sigh of ecstasy penetrated his uncle, easily and painlessly. So heightened were the lad’s passions that despite his very best efforts, he failed to maintain the slow, steady rhythm he had determined on and after just a few strokes found himself out of control. Knowing what would happen next, Albert pulled Charles down onto his chest and covered his mouth with his own, the boy still thrusting away. He was just in time, hardly had he begun to kiss him when Charles lost control completely, buried himself in as far as he could and screamed into Albert’s mouth as he spasmed time after time.

Withdrawing almost immediately he’d orgasmed, Charles stared, open-mouthed at his uncle, eyes glazed and mouth wide open.

“Stay as you are,” he gasped. Just lower your legs. Hurry.”

He moved up Albert’s body, grasped his tumescence and lowered himself onto it without a seconds pause. Before he knew what was happening, Lord Batchelor found himself embedded in Charles completely, who had a look of sheer ecstasy on his face.

“Please,” he moaned. “Please.”

The look of intensity the boy gave and the accompanying pleas would normally have shocked Albert, but he was so aroused himself that he willingly obliged and began to work himself up and down as hard as he could. Charles, adjusting to his rhythm, synchronised perfectly and together they shared a unique and long-to-be-remembered ecstatic experience. Neither of them knew nor cared for how long they were united: the only thing they knew for certain was that they orgasmed simultaneously, Charles biting his bottom lip to stop himself screaming out, and Albert urging his body to eject every last drop of his essence to gratify his adored nephew.

“I shall remember that for ever,” Charles whispered once he’d regained some energy. “It was unbelievable.”

There were no apologies made for their haste and animalistic behaviour, and none were necessary. Albert understood exactly how the boy felt and how much he needed the release, and if he were honest with himself he actually enjoyed the ferocity of the act. He too would remember it for a very long time.

Cuddling the boy to him, Albert kissed him lovingly and allowed him to fall asleep on his chest. Glancing at the mantel clock, he was amazed to notice that it was the middle of the afternoon and not the middle of the night as he thought it must be. Smiling to himself as he realised that they still had the hours of darkness to come yet, he too fell soundly asleep, dreaming dreams that are best left to the imagination.

“Will you be attending my birthday celebration next month?” Charles asked Albert after their dinner. “I do hope you will be able to make the journey.”

“There is nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Albert replied. “Of course I will attend. Thank you for the invitation. Is there anything particular you would like as a celebratory gift?”

As soon as he said this, Albert knew he’d said the wrong thing, at least as far as Charles was concerned.

“I am most grateful for what you are doing for me now, by allowing me to visit you in your home,” Charles said cheerfully. The doe-eyes and gentle smile the lad gave Lord Batchelor said more than enough to add the extra meaning his statement. “As long as you are present, that will be more than sufficient.”

“And how old will you be?” Miss Primm enquired. “Fourteen, if I recollect rightly.”

“You are perfectly correct, Miss Primm. I shall be fourteen years old.”

“Boys of lower social class than yourself commence paid employment long before their fourteenth birthday. You are fortunate indeed not to have to consider that, but do you have any plans as to what to do with your life?”

“Oh, yes, I have given the matter a great deal of thought. I intend to emulate my Uncle Albert in every way I can. Study hard, and go up to Oxford is my first intention.”

“To read what?” Albert enquired. “I read Classics, but I fear that you are not inclined in that direction.”

“I think I will study Medicine. I am intrigued as to how animals function and the reasons they behave as they do. The visit you took me on to the Zoological gardens was most inspirational, and the lecture you gave me today on Homo Sapiens was fascinating.”

Albert was unsure as to whether or not Charles was jesting, once again the insertion of a double entendre in his comment sowing a seed of doubt. He gave up: the hidden meanings of Charles statements and Miss Primm’s idiosyncratic use of the English Language being too much to cope with at the same time.

“I hope you didn’t overburden the boy with too much information,” Miss Primm said. “The study of Homo Sexuals is too much for a boy of his tender years. In my opinion the study of smaller animals such as pet rabbits and domestic cats is quite sufficient to begin with.”

“I think a game of Chess is in order, young Charles,” Albert said, fixing him with a stare that told him enough was enough.

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” Miss Primm reminded them, “And I shall be away to visit my sister and attend church. Would it be agreeable if I packed Master Charles baggage in the morning in readiness for his departure?”

“Yes, of course,” Albert replied, disliking the reminder that the visit was drawing to a close.

Charles, having one of those faces that betrays every emotion, showed that his mind was not completely devoted to the games in hand.

“You have lost two games in a row,” Albert chided. “We will have a third and final game before we retire I think.” Then added in a whisper, “And if you lose, you will sleep in the guest room tonight.”

Charles looked up at his uncle, shocked, not believing what he’d heard.

“But, ……” he started.

Albert raised his hand to signal that the conversation was at an end.

His game improved remarkably, but not quite enough to beat his more experienced relative. In fact, it took two or three suicidal moves from Lord Batchelor to ensure a win for his nephew.

“I thought you were being serious when you told me I would sleep in the guest room,” Charles said as they undressed. “But you lost deliberately.”

“Only to teach you a lesson,” Albert smiled. “You must not make fun of Miss Primm

She is an old lady who deserves respect.”

“I’m sorry,” Charles grinned, “But the temptation was too great. She didn’t comprehend anyway.”

“No, but I did. And one day she will too, if you are not careful, and then where would we be?”

“I apologise once again,”he said contritely. Then, grinning broadly, added, “And how can I make it up to you, Uncle Albert?”

“You can kiss me, and then permit me to undress you.”

The pace they adopted was somewhat less frantic than the one they’d enjoyed in the afternoon, Charles reverting to the simple enjoyment of being caressed and fondled in the comfort of Albert’s arms. Lord Batchelor too was more than content to accede to Charles mood, he thoroughly delighted in running his hands over the smooth, unblemished skin of his nephew, toying with his member once in a while, and sharing deep, loving kisses. He knew that this was the very essence of their relationship, a caring and tenderness that went far beyond the physical aspects of their relationship. In an idle moment, he even envisioned the possibility of them sharing a home, a bed and a life together. He knew, sadly, that this was an impossibility. Although perhaps Charles’ didn’t appreciate it, his life was pre-ordained. True, he would go up to Oxford, and even perhaps study Medicine if he wished. But after that, the care and management of the family’s vast estate would devolve on him. It was only right, therefore, that the child should have as happy and carefree a life as possible until then. Looking into the boy’s face, Charles smiled, kissed him tenderly and wondered what life held in store for him.

“You are feeling morose tonight,” Charles said quietly. “Are you out of sorts?”

“Not in the slightest, my angel,” he said. “I was just thinking how handsome and becoming you are!”

“I am determined we are not going to be sad and despondent tonight,” Charles said firmly. “Tomorrow night, and for many more nights, I shall be alone and I want something to give me pleasant dreams to remember you by!”

“And where do we start?” Albert grinned.

“I don’t care, because tonight we are going to do everything at least twice!”

Calling upon every ounce of energy he had, Albert somehow managed to comply with Charles’ request, including using the last of the petroleum jelly. It was well into the early hours before they both drifted off into a much-needed sleep, bodies and minds simply too exhausted to do anything else.

The sun was high in the sky when they came to the following morning, Charles apparently having fallen asleep with both hands cradling Albert’s much-abused member.

Charles opened his eyes, smiled happily to himself and woke his uncle with a kiss, his hands remaining comfortably where they were.

“Good Morning, Uncle,” Charles yawned. “I fear we are a little late this morning!”

“Probably,” Albert agreed. “We were awake rather late last night.”

“But is was most enjoyable, wasn’t it?” Charles giggled. “I feel quite sore in places decency forbids me to mention.”

Albert was distinctly aware that Charles’ hands were now gently fondling his member, causing the inevitable, and desired consequence. Whatever plans his nephew had in mind were rudely interrupted by a tap at the door.

“Come in,” Albert called.

Instantly, Charles closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, his hands still maintaining their delicate meanderings though.

“I though it best to arouse you both, sir,” Miss Primm said, gazing fondly at the recumbent form of master Charles. “I observe the young master is still sleeping. Your presence must have satiated him. Will you bestir him soon, breakfast is almost ready.”

“I will, Miss Primm. We will be down shortly.”

True to their word, and Miss Primm’s instructions, they bestirred themselves, but not quite in the way Charles wished. Impressing upon him the need for a little urgency as the housekeeper was anxious to leave, Albert opted not to indulge themselves and instead they climbed out of their bed.

“Your member seems rather rosy this morning,” Albert grinned as he gazed at the naked Charles. “As well as erected yet again. I do believe I have seen it in that state more than I have otherwise!”

Charles stared at his organ, grinning. “You are right, as usual, uncle. But when I am with you, this seems to be its normal state. And it does have a certain glow to it this morning, perhaps it has been sorely used?”

“No doubt it has. But for now, let it subside. We may find time later to test its recuperative powers.”


“Will that be all, my Lord?” Miss Primm asked as they sat down for breakfast.

“Yes, thank you. But could I ask you to prepare Charles’ bath before you leave? We shall take care of things ourselves after that.”

“It will be a pleasure, sir. And may I take this opportunity of wishing him the happiest of celebrations for his birthday in the not too distraint future?”

“Thank you, Miss Primm. Your felicitations are very much appreciated. I will remember you especially on the day.” Charles said sincerely.

Miss Primm glowed with pride at these words and with a delighted smile, set about preparing his bath.

“At what o’clock is your father expected?” Albert asked as he watched Charles bathe himself.

“He intimated it would be mid-afternoon. Last time we were late arriving home, the latter part of the journey being made tedious because of the darkness.”

“Good. In that case we have about four hours before you must take your leave.”

“Excellent.” Charles grinned as he stepped out of the bath and offered himself to be dried. “Then I shall not dress at all for at least another three hours.”

“In the Lord’s name why?” Albert said, in astonishment.

“Because I will only have to undress again later!” he giggled.

Even Lord Batchelor saw the logic in this and gave his delighted, if reluctant, agreement. Wearing nothing but a bath robe, Charles followed his uncle downstairs and into the library where Lord Albert picked up his newspaper and tried to read it whilst his nephew browsed his books, first selecting one, then replacing it before finding another. Albert knew what the boy was trying to do of course, and made no attempt to look at his paper, his eyes being constantly drawn to the glimpses of flesh tantalizingly displayed as books were reached for and replaced.

“Come here,” Albert said eventually, “And stop teasing!”

Charles skipped over to where his uncle was sat and deposited himself on his knees, legs astride and hooked his arms round Albert’s neck.

Allowing his robe to fall open, Charles snuggled into his uncle and sighed happily, depositing a light kiss on his lips. Albert, with his arms around the boy’s waist, returned the kiss and savoured the delicious aroma of a freshly-bathed youngster. An amicable silence descended as the pair relaxed, each happily lost in their own thoughts. Such was the tranquil mood they’d created, Albert noted, that for once the captivating organ between the boys legs remained flaccid, hanging loosely over his perfect little testicles, its now usual pinkness restored.

Lord Batchelor thought his nephew had fallen asleep, but a smile growing on his face disproved this, as did his slowly erecting member. For a moment, Albert thought of asking the lad what he was thinking to cause the arousal, but decided against it as he didn’t want to disturb the peace.

What was on the boy’s mind became evident as very slowly he snaked a hand down into Albert’s groin and searched for his target. Grasping it lightly, he allowed his fingers to gently wriggle around until it began to awaken.

“Open your legs a little,” Charles whispered as he started to unfasten the buttons.

“The Library is hardly the place …” Lord Batchelor started to say, but was stopped by a pair of lips sealing his mouth.

Giving in to the inevitable, he widened his legs.

Charles released the tumescent member from its confines and sank to his knees, gazing at his prize in delight. Unable to resist the temptation it presented, he took it into his mouth and proceeded to work his tongue and lips around it, oblivious to the sounds of bliss emanating from above.

Several times he brought his uncle to the brink of an orgasm but at the last possible moment refrained from allowing him to relieve himself. Lord Batchelor would have given anything to achieve the release he so desperately wanted, and was vastly disappointed to see Charles release his member from the warm cavern it was enjoying, and rise to his feet. Before he could remonstrate with the child, he was stunned into silence with his next manoeuvre.

Climbing back astride his uncle’s knees, Charles placed a hand on his shoulders, raised himself up and with the other hand, carefully positioned Albert’s frustrated organ between his cheeks. With a determined look, Charles slowly lowered his body. Incredibly, Lord Batchelor’s organ disappeared just as intended, and within a few seconds a very proud Charles was seated on Albert’s knees with a beatific smile on his face.

“I thought I could,” he giggled. “How does it feel, uncle?”

Incapable of speech, Albert simply nodded his head and stared, open-mouthed at the boy.

Very carefully Charles leaned forwards and kissed his uncle deeply.

“Let us remain like this for a while, without moving. It feels truly wonderful,” he whispered.

For fifteen glorious, memorable minutes, they remained motionless except for kisses and caresses adoringly exchanged. Once in a while Charles flexed his gluteus much to the pleasure of Lord Batchelor, thus maintaining what seemed to be a permanent erection.

Almost imperceptibly Charles started to raise and lower himself, achieving a state so ecstatic that he stared, sightless at his uncle, mouth agape. Never before had Albert travelled towards an orgasm so slowly and erotically. With each movement of Charles’ torso he climbed a little higher towards the goal he so earnestly wanted, until after some considerable time and with a violent shudder he ejaculated passionately and painfully.

This time it was Albert who called out loudly and noisily as he lost his fluids, grateful to do so at long last. Not to be outdone, Charles instantly spasmed, ejected enough semen to draw a line from Albert’s chest to his navel and echoed his uncle’s cries of delight.

Even after the energy-draining exercise they’d both enjoyed, the pair remained co-joined until the drying fluids on Lord Batchelor’s chest made him feel uncomfortable. Gently lifting a reluctant Charles off his flaccid member, he kissed him once more and suggested they cleaned themselves up as the hour was approaching when he would have to leave.

Not having Miss Primm to prepare baths for them, they had to make do with strip washes, which was the source of yet further merriment and jollification, each taking great pains to remove all signs of their recent behaviour.

By the time Lord Biggun arrived, they’d calmed down and were feeling rather dejected at the thought of being parted, comforting each other as best they could.

“I shall see you on your birthday anyway,” Lord Batchelor said. “And I am sure we will be able to make up for lost time then.”

“I hope so,” the rather tearful Charles said. “I don’t know what I shall do until then.”

“I’m sure you will think of something,” Albert said, more cheerfully than he felt.

They were about to embrace and kiss once more when they were interrupted by Charles’ father who insisted that they hurry along as time was passing.

“And did you enjoy your visit to London?” Albert asked his brother as Charles was supervising the loading of his baggage into the carriage.

“Oh yes, thank you.” Then, after ensuring Charles wasn’t within earshot, added, “My young companion, whom you have met I believe, has decided to give up the trade much to my regret. He has arranged a replacement though, which may necessitate a further visit in the near future. Talking of which, how has my son been this week-end? He seems to be a little out of sorts these days. Not taking much interest in things, if you understand what I mean. Did her, err, perform for you satisfactorily?”

“He’s behaved very well, as usual, With regard to his performance as you put it, he acted perfectly normally,” Albert said carefully. “I think he is growing into a very presentable and determined young man. Perhaps that is why his interests are changing, he is of that age I believe.”

“Maybe you’re right, Albert. We must try to find him a suitable young lady. Or other companion,” he grinned. “From what I hear, he wouldn’t be too concerned as to what sex it was! Just like his father, eh?”

With a wan smile, Lord Batchelor shook his brother’s hand and stood on his doorstep, watching them drive out of Belgrave Square. He closed the door behind him and sat in the Library, thinking that perhaps he should have informed his brother precisely how his son was changing and what a veritable little satyr he was becoming. But then decided that perhaps he shouldn’t say too much as it would no doubt spoil the excellent relationship he had with his nephew, and additionally lead to complications Charles could do without.


Promptly at two o’clock the following afternoon, Lord Batchelor opened his front door to admit a very chirpy Edward Welcome.

“Afternoon, Guv.,” Edward said, hugging him and planting a kiss on his lips. “You wouldn’t believe how ‘appy – Happy – I am to see you agin!”

“And me too,” Albert said. “I trust you are well?”

“Am now. Told your brother that I ain’t seeing him any more, so’s its just me and you now.”

“Did he take it well?”

“Better’n I thought ‘e would. Wasn’t too put out, ‘specially when I told him that me mate Jack would make himself available. He even gave me an extra half guinea for me troubles!”

Albert was walking towards the drawing room when he realised Edward wasn’t following him. Turning round, he saw the boy standing at the bottom of the stairs expectantly.

“Can we talk upstairs?” he said. “I’s missed you and I wants to get comfortable with you without wastin’ time down ‘ere!”

As they nestled together in bed, Edward sighed happily and rested his head on Albert’s chest, doing nothing except savour the moment and hold his man tightly.

“Did you have a good time with your nephew?” Edward enquired lazily. “You ain’t got to tell me if you don’t want, as long as you was ‘appy is all I care about.”

“I satisfied his needs I think,” Albert replied carefully, stroking Edward’s silky hair. “Thanks largely to your lessons!”

“Right. His Pa told me the boy was changing, losing interest sort of thing. P’raps he ain’t liking this sort of stuff any more. Sort of growin’ out of it. An’ I’s glad I ‘elped things along a bit.”

“Oh, you did that well enough. At least Charles seemed happy when he left. He even invited me to attend his birthday celebration in a few weeks time.”

“You goin’?” Edward asked. “You can if’n you wants, now I know he’s changed and he ain’t interested no more!” Then, laughing lightly added, “An I’ll leave his knackers alone now I knows he don’t fancy you as much!”

“He will never replace you,” Albert said softly. He meant it too, just as he meant it when he told Charles that he adored him.

Lord Batchelor relaxed completely, enjoying the comforting presence of the lad, not the least pleasing thing being that he was content just to lay there and be cosseted. Adorable though he was, Charles could be too excitable and physically demanding at times, as well as unpredictable.

“What will you do for money, now that my brother is no longer providing?” Albert asked as they fondled each other.

“Dunno yet, milord. I’ll fink – think – of something, but I ain’t in desperate needs of it anyway. I hopes to get a better job soon an’ that’ll ‘elp.”

“Perhaps I can help in the meanwhile,” Albert offered.

“No!” Edward said with surprising firmness. “I telled you afore, I ain’t takin’ no dosh for doin’ what I wants wiv yer.”

Suitably chastened, Albert reconsidered. He wanted to help the boy and his mother, but without causing offence and compromising his admirable principles.

“Perhaps you may be able to help my housekeeper or the gardener around the house once in a while. They are both elderly and may appreciate someone who can do the heavy lifting and so on.”

“I wouldn’t mind that. I’s be working for it then, and I can share it wiv me ma seein’ as its come by legitimate like.”

“Good. Now, young Edward, shall we indulge ourselves a little? I feel in need of some exercise, and it’s been too long since we had the pleasure of one another.”

Almost lazily, they re-arranged themselves so as to take each other orally and although they were both anxious for relief, took things steadily, wanting the pleasure to last.

“Tells me when you’re gonna shoot off,” Edward said after a while. “I don’t wanna makes you do it yet.”

Three times Albert was stopped, each time Edward taking a rest and allowing Albert to calm down.

“Now I’s ready for the special!” he said at last. “Let me lay down where you is.”

Quickly they changed places and Edward lifted his legs, holding them in place with his hands.

“Take it slow, guv. I wants to enjoy this.”

There was no need for any lubricant, Albert discovered. Edward was well and truly ready for the ‘special’, his fundament already visibly relaxed. He slid in with no difficulty at all, not even a hint of pain from either party. Edward grinned up at him and clenched his cheeks playfully.

“It’s even better’n I remember,” he smiled. “Yous the only one as I let’s does this to me now. Your bruvver wanted to do it, even offered me more dosh but I wouldn’t let him.”

“How did you say no?” Albert said. “Even I have difficulty in refusing anything he asks.”

“Me arse wouldn’t open up for ‘im. He got really funny about it and made me do ‘im twice instead.” Edward laughed. “And made me bring ‘im off again wiv me ‘and. When ‘es in that mood, there ‘ain’t no stoppin’ ‘im!”

Concentrating as much as he could, Albert settled down to give young Edward all the pleasure he deserved, watching his face contort with ecstasy as he slowly pulled in and out.

“Faster now, guv., I’s gonna spill in a second!” Edward moaned after a good many minutes, his brow furrowed and beaded with perspiration.

Albert had held his own release back for so long that it was with intense relief he allowed himself to ejaculate, just as Edward spilled his own seed with a very satisfied sigh.

“That was wunnerful,” he grinned. “Real special! Gimme a few minutes an’ I’ll return the favour!”

And so they spent a most enjoyable afternoon, mixing idle conversation and gentle recreation in equal amounts. It was with real regret that they eventually dressed themselves and prepared to meet the outside world in the form of Miss Primm.

Taking the bull by the horns as it were, Lord Batchelor approached her nervously. When she was his nurse, many years ago, her word was law and it was a very brave person who challenged her. Even now, when in theory their roles had been reversed, he was still afraid of suggesting any changes to her established routine.

“Miss Primm, Edward and I have a problem we would like your advice about.” he began.

“I am all ears,” she said, wiping floury hands on her apron. “I’ll be as much assistance as I am able, I’m sure.”

“Young Edward here finds himself financially embarrassed due to circumstances at home and would like to hear if you have any suggestions as to how he might resolve the problem and earn a few extra shillings each week.”

“I comprehend,” she said, looking at the boy. “He has one job which takes up a lot of time and so another one with long hours isn’t visible.”

“Correct. What we need is a job of work with only a few hours, just enough to produce a little extra income. I thought perhaps we might employ him to help yourself and the gardener with any heavy lifting and such.”

“I don’t need any assistance,” she bridled, “But old George needs a bit of a hand now and again, what with his back and all. And if master Edward is here, he may as well help lift the sacks of flour and potatoes for me, they are rather cumbersome.”

The fact that Miss Primm was at least ten years older than ‘old George’ seemed to have escaped her notice.

“Good. So that is settled then. Will you tell George or shall I?”

“I’ll tell him. He’s a stubborn old goat sometimes and needs telling properly. He won’t argue with me.” Turning to Edward, she said, “Make sure you’re clean and tidy and do as you’re told, and you and me will get on famously. I know you’re a good boy and I expect good things from you, just like his Lordship does.”

“Thank you, Miss Primm, I am truly grateful and I am sure my old ma will be glad too.”

Once again, Miss Primm’s ample bosom swelled with pride as she returned gaily to her work firm in the knowledge that yet again she had resolved another crisis.

Over the next couple of weeks, Edward spent most of the daylight hours either at work or at Lord Batchelor’s house. There wasn’t a great deal to do in the kitchen or garden, and the tasks he was assigned were speedily done to everyone’s satisfaction. Satisfactory too was the relationship he was building up with Lord Batchelor, ‘Albert’ as he was called in private. His lessons were progressing well, and their companionship blossoming. They indulged themselves almost whenever they wished, although in practice they only used the bed perhaps every other day. Most of the time they were perfectly content to be in the same room together, sneaking the odd embrace and kiss when the mood took them, which seemed to be quiet often.

The first test of their new-found relationship was when Lord Batchelor informed his household that he would be away for the forthcoming week-end, attending his nephew’s thirteenth birthday party. Miss Primm immediately set to and began to gather the ingredients for a special birthday cake, Edward took the news rather less well, although never showed it outwardly at first.

They had retired to the bedroom the day before Albert was due to leave and were taking their ease when Albert sensed Edward had something on his mind, one clue being that Edward’s member had failed to attain its normal hardened state.

“Tell me what’s troubling you,” he asked giving him a kiss.

“Ain’t nothin’ serious,” Edward said. “Just that I’ll miss you.”

“I know you well enough to know that there is more than that, but if you choose not to tell me, then than is your affair.”

“I’s scared that that nephew of yours will entice you away from me,”he said quietly. “Him being better born and bred than me.”

It was true that Albert had given this particular problem a great deal of thought over the past few days, knowing that this week-end would somehow bring things to a head. He idolised both boys, but in different ways. Charles was impetuous, rather wild and never dull company. His antics in the bedroom, and out of it sometimes, were exhilarating and exciting and showed an imagination Albert envied.

Edward, on the other hand, was much more attentive and caring in the way he behaved, enjoying their simply being together as much as anything else. He was polite, well-mannered and exceedingly good company. In the bedroom, he could be innovative and just as exciting as Charles, but in a more relaxed way, ensuring that Albert had just as much fun as he.

There was little to choose between them, Albert decided reluctantly and failed to come to any decision.

Placing these thoughts to the back of his mind, he gazed at the young man sharing his bed and whispered, “Charles will do no such thing. We may indulge ourselves occasionally, as you well know, but he is after all, my nephew and our meetings are infrequent. You and I suit each other admirably, and to demonstrate how much I care for you, I have a birthday gift for you too, although I haven’t a notion when it is.”

“There’s only one present I want from you,”Edward grinned, feeling much happier.

Yet again, Albert was presented with a pair of raised legs and a sight which was impossible to ignore.

Afterwards, Edward lay between Albert’s legs, his head on Albert’s shoulder making it easier to kiss him once in a while.

“What will you do this week-end?” Albert asked conversationally. “Go about with your friends?”

“Most of my mates will go boozin’ or out with the tarts from the docks. The booze gives me a headache and the tarts don’t bovver me,” he grinned. “I suppose I could go fishing with Jack if he ain’t workin’.”

“How would you like to go to the theatre or music hall when I return?” Albert said. “Have you been before?”

Edward’s face shone radiantly at this news and gave Albert a hug. “Can we? I’ve only been a couple o’times. We used to go up in the Gods when I was littler, Only cost a penny.”

“The Gods?” Albert said, puzzled.

“Right up in the roof of the theatre, where the man who works the limelights is. They sometimes let kids in for a penny each, but you gotta climb millions o’ stairs to get there,” he giggled. “And then the stage is so far away you can’t see nuffink.”

“We’ll go downstairs, and right in front of the stage if you wish. You can see everything from there!”

“There aren’t any nudes or anyfing, if that’s what yous thinking,” Edward said. “I likes the singin’ and comics.”

“That’s just what I like,” Albert said.

“That’d be a nice present for me birfday – birthday – , thank you.”

“Oh, that isn’t a birthday gift. It’s what friends do once in a while.”

That earned a slightly tearful embrace from Edward, together with a question. “If that ain’t me present, what you got me then?”

“Miss Primm has a parcel for you which you may collect when you leave, and not before!”

“That means I gotta give you another present, don’t it?” Edward laughed. “What would you like this time?”

“Guess!” Albert grinned.


The birthday party was to be held on Sunday after Church and as he’d arrived early on Saturday morning, had an entire day free to entertain himself. He spent the first hour or so with his brother, conversing about the estate and similar matters. He was reluctant to raise any close family matters as he would have normally done, mainly because of the things Charles had told him. Significantly, neither did Lord Biggun except to say that his wife was ill a-bed with a headache and Charles hadn’t put in an appearance yet.

Albert decided to take a horse and have a ride round the estate, just for the pleasure of being on horse-back again, and the exercise wouldn’t come amiss either.

On his way to the stables, he came across Charles who had been out walking the dogs.

“Hello, Uncle Albert,” he grinned, shaking his hand. “I’m pleased you have arrived.”

He kissed Albert on the cheeks, and after a glance round to make sure no one was looking, gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the lips.

“I’ll see you later, after luncheon,” he smiled as he broke the embrace.

The groom who brought the gelding out to Lord Batchelor seemed familiar, he thought. As he looked at the man, it struck him:

“Joseph!” he grinned. “I thought you’d retired years ago!”

“Ain’t no point,” he said in his usual gruff manner. “Now the missus has gone, I ain’t got nothing else to do, so’s I comes up here and helps out where I can.”

“Nice to see, you after all this time! Perhaps we can have a chat when I come back?”

“I’d like that, sir.”

Albert had a magnificent ride. It had been months since he’d had the opportunity to be in the country-side on a horse and he took full advantage of it, exploring places he knew as a child and seeing how well the estate appeared to be doing. He recognised several of the labourers and gave them a cheerful wave as he passed by, happy to be back home again.

When he returned, Joseph was sat smoking his pipe by the stable doors, looking as morose as ever.

He walked over to Albert, took the horse from him and walked him into the stable, Albert following along, expressing his compliments on how well the horse was groomed.

“Aye, it’s a fine beast allright,” was all he said.

There was something about the man’s manner that prompted Albert to wait until the horse had been unsaddled and handed over to a stable boy for rubbing down.

“What is it, Joseph? You want to say something?”

“Aye, my Lord, I do. But it ain’t really my place and it’s a bit sorta delicate.”

The pair took a stroll into the vegetable garden, the only place sure to be deserted at this time of day.

“It’s about young Master Charles,” Joseph said when they were alone.

“Go on,” Albert replied, concern showing on his face.

“I don’t know as to how to say this, Lord Albert, but he has gained a certain reputation which isn’t altogether wholesome if you gets my drift.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, if I may be open with you sir, people thinks he has been doing things which aren’t right and proper with some of the boys on the estate and in the village.”

“Are my brother or his mother aware of this? Have you mentioned it to them?”

“Oh, no sir. Lord Arthur isn’t the sort of man you can talk to regarding certain things, and I wouldn’t soil his mother’s ears with such delicate matters.”

“I see. May I ask one question to clarify my mind, and then we will consider the matter closed if you wish.”

Joseph nodded, staring into the distance.

“Is it to do with things below the waist?”

“Aye,” Joseph said simply.

Deciding to enlarge, he went on, “Boys will be boys and we knows they do things which ain’t proper, strictly speaking, but mostly they grows out of it and no harms done. But Master Charles has been making the lads do things which ain’t natural.”

“Thank you, Joseph. It must have been difficult for you to inform me of this, and you can rest assured that I will deal with the matter. And your name won’t be mentioned.”

“Thank you, sir. I regret having to burden you with such a thing, but Master Charles is growing into a fine young man, and I wouldn’t wish him to do himself any harm so early in life. People round here have long memories.”

Lord Batchelor wasn’t in the least surprised at Joseph’s information; in a way he’d half-expected it from what Charles has said. He regretted that his behaviour was becoming common gossip certainly, but it appears that no permanent harm had been done to his reputation so far. Perhaps a word in his ear would suffice, after all the lad was not unintelligent.

There were upwards of a dozen people for the informal luncheon party, most of whom Albert knew and so a very jolly time was had. His brother was on good form and regaled the party with several fascinating anecdotes, all of which were decorous and well-received. Glancing round the table, Albert caught Charles’ eye and they smiled at each other, a secretive ‘we know something they don’t’ sort of smile. Despite the surroundings, Albert felt a stirring in his trousers as they raised their glasses to each other. Moving onwards, Albert next looked at his sister-in-law, sat next to her son. Albert thought she was finding the party rather stressful and had the distinct impression that she would rather be elsewhere, and the reason why soon became apparent as her eyes kept flickering across to a pretty young maid standing against the wall, waiting to serve the next course.

That she considered herself a cut above the other maids was obvious by her whole demeanour and Albert correctly assumed she was the one who had displaced Charles’ mother from her rightful place in the bedchamber.

The meal was drawing to a close when Charles turned to his father and asked if he would mind if he took Uncle Albert to his room to explain a difficult Latin text to him. With hardly a pause in his conversation, Lord Biggun agreed that it was an excellent idea, and then turned his back on the lad, dismissing him from his mind.

Once in Charles’ room, they relaxed and embraced, kissing one another fervently and with a passion emboldened by their lengthy separation. Charles, however, made no move to undress himself as he always did when the prospect of some exercise was in view.

Albert looked at the boy, the unspoken question hanging between them.

“The house is full of guests,” Charles whispered as if they were all gathered outside his door, listening. “I am afraid that we will be discovered.”

“Is there nowhere else, then?” Albert asked, frustrated.

“I can’t think of anywhere,” he said, “All the other bedrooms are occupied by house guests.”

Thinking desperately, Albert had an idea.. “What about the nursery? Surely that isn’t in use these days?”

Charles’ face lit up and a broad grin spread over it. “Perfect,” he giggled. “I’d forgotten about that, no one ever goes there these days. We can be quite alone and safe up there.”

The nursery had changed very little since Albert and Alfred had used it when they were younger: the twin beds were there, side by side as they always were, and across the room the larger bed for the Nurse, in their case Miss Primm. Albert smiled as he remembered the pleasurable fumblings which he and his brother indulged in, first exploring their burgeoning sexuality when they were about eight years old or so. In fact, he recollected suddenly, it was in one of these beds that Alfred first displayed his ability to produce seed, proudly demonstrating the talent on several occasions to his younger brother. By that time, he would have been about the same age that Charles is now, and now Albert was about to do something rather similar with his son.

Once undressed, they embraced and kissed in the middle of the room. Charles sensed immediately that his uncle was unusually aroused, his penis already leaking the precious fluid onto his navel as they hugged. Smiling to himself, Charles put Albert’s excitement down to their location, and the also the effect he was having on him. Taking advantage of the situation, without any further ado Charles pressed his uncle down onto the nearest bed and hurriedly licked the moist member clean before slipping it between his lips.

Lord Batchelor was approaching his orgasm much too quickly, and begged Charles to cease for a while, who happily moved his head up to Albert’s and kissed him deeply and adoringly.

“Birthday.” Gasped Albert. “What would you like us to do to celebrate it whilst we have the opportunity?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” laughed Charles, his face glowing with excitement.

“First I would like to have you on your back. And then you can do it to me. That will be a fine gift for us both!”

The combination of Albert’s fond memories of the room and Charles’ evident frustration at having been without such exercise for so long ensured that the next hour was filled with a serious pleasuring of each other in every way they could think of. Should anyone have the misfortune to be anywhere within earshot, they would have been left in absolutely no doubt as to what activities were taking place behind the close door.

Silence eventually descended within the room though, as Charles and Albert, thoroughly exhausted, curled up together on the bed and recuperated from their passions.

“You were magnificent, as always!” Albert whispered in Charles’ ear.

“You always excite me greatly,” Charles answered. “And I’ve missed you so much.”

“You have been doing nothing at all, then? Not even with Symes?”

“Just a little,” Charles said. “When I am in desperate need. But he seems more and more reluctant to indulge recently.”

“There is no one else to turn to, then?”

“I have taken some pleasure with Jacob. He is a little younger than myself; the son of the blacksmith. He seems quite amenable.”

There is the connection, Albert thought. The blacksmith was Joseph’s son, and hence Jacob was his grandson. No wonder he was concerned about Charles’ proclivities.

“I would take very great care with the local boys,” Albert said, stroking Charles’ soft hair. “They are unable to keep secrets as well as we are, and they may well reveal something, even by accident.”

“So you think I should avoid them? Stop doing things with them?”

“That might be wise, until you find one who is trustworthy. I am sure there must be one such somewhere nearby for you.”

“I will try, Uncle Albert, but you know how difficult it is to restrain oneself when the mood is upon you.”

“I do, but you must take heed of what I say and try.”

“I will, I promise. But for now, I have you and we have half an hour to spare …..”

Albert slept alone that night, rather to his relief as the exertions of the afternoon had been more tiring than usual. It would have been difficult for he and Charles to meet anyway as the boy was sharing his room with the sixteen-year-old son of a distant relative and questions would certainly be asked if Charles was found to be missing from his bed. Lord Batchelor smiled to himself, pitying the visitor if Charles had made his mind up to seduce him.

The birthday party seemed to start at breakfast time the following day and was planned to go on all day from what Albert could understand. There were far too many people around for Albert’s taste: he much preferred a quieter, less frenzied life style and the mass of people and accompanying noise began to play on his nerves. Searching for somewhere more restful, he chanced upon the games room which was out of bounds to the guests. Mixing himself a whisky and soda water, he eased himself into a Chesterfield and watched the activities taking place on the lawn through the French windows.

Hearing the door open, Albert turned round, irritated at being disturbed. Fortunately, it was his brother, also seeking some tranquillity.

“I fear I must take leave of you after luncheon,” Albert said. “I have an early appointment on the morrow and must be about early.” Strictly speaking, this wasn’t true but Albert had had enough of the gathering and wished devoutly to be back at home as soon as possible. It would be impossible to have another tryst with Charles anyway.

“I have taken the liberty of presenting Charles with a silver casket for his birthday,” Albert said to his brother. “The family crest has been engraved upon it, suitably modified for when Charles inherits the title. A little premature, but I thought it appropriate.”

“Indeed!” Arthur laughed, “But it is well thought of and I am sure he will appreciate it.”

“Talking of Charles,” Albert went on. “I fear a little closer supervision of his activities may be required if the rumour I have heard is true.”

“Oh?” said Arthur, taking a sip of his whisky.

“I understand he may have been making something of a nuisance of himself with one of the local boys, if you understand what I mean.”

“I see,” Arthur said. “Can you tell me more?”

Albert knew he’d raised a very delicate topic with his brother, given the problems he’d had at his boarding school and also with one or two local boys.

“Not really. I just overheard something in the stable yard yesterday which concerned me, and knowing Charles as we both do, it may not be groundless.”

“Thank you very much,” Arthur said. “I would be most displeased of the family name became tarnished by youthful exuberances.” Laughing slightly, he raised a glass to his brother and said, “I think we both understand how easily that can occur. A chip of the old block, is he?”

“Precisely,” Albert agreed.

“I will confine him to the house and grounds for a while and find him some useful occupation to fill his time. That should cool his ardour, I think.”

“Good,” Albert smiled. “And now, if you will excuse me, I must make preparations to leave. Will you be coming up to town in the near future?”

“I plan to be at my club in two weeks time for a few days. I trust Charles will be welcome to stay under your roof? I have engaged the services of a new messenger and may need to spend some time with him.”

It was evident that Lord Biggun saw no connection at all between his liaisons with messenger boys, and Charles’ behaviour, but instead of commenting, Albert simply said, “Of course. He will be most welcome.”


After the tiring week-end, Albert was grateful for Edward’s placid, more reserved nature and relaxed completely with him. They still spent a great deal of time in the bedroom comforting each other but the activities they engaged in were pleasurable diversions and not in the slightest degree strenuous.

Albert had been back in his home for ten days only when a letter was delivered, one marked with the family crest which could only mean it was from Arthur. Opening it hurriedly, he was disappointed not to find a note from Charles, and so read the lengthy one from Arthur with more care than usual.

Charles, apparently had not taken heed of his uncle’s warning. In his usual, rather blunt style of writing, Arthur informed his brother that one of the local boys parents had discovered signs of blood on their son’s undergarments and under close questioning had revealed that Charles was the cause. ‘I have confined Charles to the house pro tem, until a solution has been arrived at’, Arthur wrote.

Albert sighed deeply, shocked at the news, disappointed in Charles, feeling sorry for the abused boy, and even feeling sorry for his brother. The last paragraph of the letter however made him sit up.

‘I am asking you, dearest brother,’ the letter concluded, ‘If you are in a position to take Charles to live with you for a time until the commotion has died down.’

Albert’s heart missed a beat as he thought about he and Charles living together and what a delightful prospect it was. Moving across to the writing desk, he got as far as putting pen to paper when he paused. This was the moment he had been dreading for weeks: he was being forced into making a decision he had put off for far too long. Surprising even himself, the choice was easily made, and with a flourish, picked the pen up and commenced to write:

My Dearest Brother,

I am truly sorry to hear of Charles’ misdemeanours: I did warn the boy of his behaviours, but I assume his emotions got the better of him and led him down a path which would have been best avoided. Both you and I know he can be a very passionate young man, and once determined on an action will see it through heedless of the consequences.

To have him live in my household would delight both myself and Miss Primm. He is happy here and causes no problems at all. However, I feel that if he were exposed to the temptations that life in a big city offers, no matter how closely he is supervised, he will find a way to take advantage of them. You and I are both aware of the ease with which boys of a certain disposition may be led astray and I don’t think Charles would be averse to it. It is with deep regret therefore, and after long consideration I feel that his presence here would do more harm than good to the child.

May I suggest that he is sent to a boarding school for a while, until he learns to control his urges? I believe the one you and I attended is still functioning and would suit our needs admirably. At the risk of stirring up old memories, as we both know the school will tolerate certain activities if kept within bounds, but will also chastise those who transgress the code. It may come hard to my nephew, but I feel the regime will do him good and establish a mode of conduct more becoming in him.

I look forward to seeing you in the not too distant future,

Yours etc.

Albert re-read the letter several times, each time becoming more convinced that he was doing the best thing for Charles and bitterly regretting having to recommend it.

There was only one more task he had to perform to ensure his style of life changed to a more stable, acceptable one.

Searching Miss Primm out, he sat her down at the kitchen table and explained that young Charles would no longer be visiting on such a regular basis as he was being sent away to boarding school.

“The best place for him,” she smiled. “He is a clever young man and needs proper edification in a place with other boys of similar backgrounds.”

Miss Primm looked at her master, concern showing on her face.

“And what of yourself? You will miss him sorely if I am not mistaken.”

“I will, Primm. I will. But I have decided on another course of action which may hopefully satisfy me, but may displease your good self.”

“And what may that be?” she asked, lips pressed firmly together.

“I intend to ask Edward if he will become my ward, and live in the house with me as a member of my family.”

For the first time in his memory, Miss Primm burst into laughter and stared at Albert, tears running down her cheeks.

“Why bless me sir, it’s taken you long enough to make your mind up. I think it’s an excellent notion and I welcome it. I thought for a moment you were going to close the house down and live on the estate. Or become a schoolmaster.”

“You mean, you mean …” Lord Batchelor was speechless.

“I raised you and your brother from babies, remember, and there is precious little I don’t know about the pair of you. I think it was a mistake for Lord Biggun to marry in the first place, but he has produced a fine son and heir, thanks be to God, even though he seems to have inherited a family tray.”

Taking a pause to wipe away the tears, she went on, “You never married, which was the right choice, but you still need companionship and I think Edward will be ideal. He will be the son you never had. And the activities you get up to when you are alone are no concern of mine.”

“But you knew?” Albert blushed. “And never said anything?”

“What’s to say? You kept your private things to yourself and were the soul of discretionary always. My only wish is that the house will become a family home and you will let an old lady get on with her work unmolested.”


It took Albert several hours to overcome the shock, hours spent not only thinking how much his life had changed in just a few short hours, but also at the amazing Miss Primm who had shown herself to be a most devoted servant, a friend almost, with an understanding of the frailties of human nature far beyond his.

He was still not quite himself when the familiar ring on the front door bell informed him that Edward had arrived. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and led Edward straight into the library much to his surprise and consternation.

“Before we commence our ‘lesson’, Albert started, “I have something to tell you which may cause you to leave my house straightaway, or remain. The choice will be yours.”

Edward was taken aback at hearing this, and Albert watched his face change from surprise to shock and then puzzlement.

“Wha, wha .. is it milord. ‘As I done sommat wrong? What you gonna say?”

Edward was twisting his cap in his hand, tears only a breath away.

“Listen carefully to what I have to say. And then say nothing until you have thought about it: take your time and consider all aspects of my offer before you decide.”

Biting his lip in apprehension, Edward nodded.

“I have decided that I would like you to come here and live as a member of my family. To make you my ward.”

“To live ‘ere, wiv you in this great ‘ouse? For ever? Why?”

“I think you know why, Edward. And it would be for ever as far as I am concerned, that’s why I would like you to become my ward.”

“A ward? Wot’s a ‘ward’? The only wards I ever ‘eard of works in jails and madhouses and such. An’ I ain’t gonna be one o’ those.”

“They’re wardens, not wards,” Albert laughed. “If you become my ward, it means that I am responsible for you. For your education, clothing, feeding and such like.”

“Like you was my father then?”

“Sort of, but I can’t adopt you properly because I don’t have a wife. Making you my ward is the next best thing; it means we are tied together until you come of age.”

“What, 21? You means you will ‘ave me until I’s twenny-one?”

“Yes, and longer if that is what you wish. Now if you have no more questions, I will wait until you have made your mind up.”

“I ain’t gotta fink – think – Guv. If yous means wot I thinks you means, then I’ll do it gladly.”

Then he paused as a thought struck him. “It don’t mean we gotta stop doin’ stuff do it? ‘Cause if’n it does then I ain’t interested.”

“No, it doesn’t. But you will have a room of your own of course.”

Screwing his eyes up, Edward looked at Albert strangely, then said quietly, “Yous serious aint’cha? You ain’t takin’ the piss – err – makin’ fun o’ me are you?”

“Come here a moment,” Albert said.

Edward approached Albert nervously. Taking the boy in his arms, he kissed him deeply and ran his hands through his hair.

“Now are you convinced?” he said hoarsely.

Edward nodded, unsmiling, and returned the kiss. “Now can we go upstairs?” he whispered. “I got a lot to fink about and you knows where I finks best.”

Laying comfortably in the bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms, Albert could almost see the wheels turning in Edward’s mind.

“D’ya know something,” Edward mused. “This room’s bigger’n my whole house. I’ll get lost in this ‘un sure as eggs is eggs!”

“Talking of houses,” Albert said. “What about your mother? Will she agree to your coming to live here? After all, she will be losing a very caring son.”

“She’ll agree OK,” Edward said. “She’s been ‘inting for ages that I aughta find a berth for meself somewhere else. There’s a new man in ‘er life and I gets in the way a bit I think!”

Within a week everything was settled to the satisfaction of all concerned and Edward had moved in to his new home. The room he was given was rarely used, the pair still electing to share their bed and bodies whenever the fancy took them. Miss Primm too, was perfectly content, now having another young man in her household to take care of and cherish, much as she had done for Lords Albert and Arthur not so many years ago.


Once Edward had moved in with Lord Batchelor, life soon settled down into a routine of domestic harmony. They had their trials and tribulations of course, but nothing to upset their idyllic contentment for any length of time.

After Lord Batchelor, the most important person in young Edward’s life was Miss Primm, the inestimable Housekeeper and the only other occupant of their home in Belgrave Square. He wasn’t present at the extraordinary conversation Albert had had with her when the subject of Edward’s becoming Lord Batchelor’s ward had taken place and was thus extremely nervous of her when he first arrived at his new home.

In a matter of just a few hours, Edward’s life had changed completely, far more even than he’d imagined it would. For one thing he now had a room of his very own, one which was almost as large as the whole of the hovel which he had shared with his mother and various ‘uncles’.

“I ain’t never seen anyfink so grand,” he whispered as he stared around the freshly cleaned and aired room. “An’ there ain’t no one else gonna be in ‘ere?” he quizzed.

“No, it’s all yours,” Albert smiled, placing an arm across Edward’s shoulder and drawing him closer.

Then a thought struck him. “But I ain’t gotta use it all the time ‘as I?” he said, turning his face towards Albert, the implication being left hanging in the air.

“Not if you don’t want. Let us say that this is your refuge. Your place of sanctity.”

“But I don’t want no sant … , sancti… whatever it was you said,” Edward snuffled. “I wanna be wiv – with – you like we always ‘as been.”

Edward was trying his best to emulate Lord Batchelor’s way of speaking and for the most part managed quite well, but he was inclined to revert to his native Cockney under stress.

“And so you shall. But think how it would appear if we had guests and they discovered you hadn’t got a room and bed of your own.”

“Oh, yeah. They’ll fink summat’s goin’ on,” he grinned as he slipped an arm round Albert’s waist and kissed him, delicately at first and then more passionately as his emotions took over.

They were headed for Lord Batchelor’s own bedroom to let nature take its course when they were interrupted by Miss Primm bustling down the corridor. Blushing bright crimson, Edward released Albert from his grip and stared at the carpet, acutely embarrassed.

“I’ve placed Master Edward’s clothes, such as they are, in his room my Lord,” she said, sniffing her disapproval of the apparel. “They’re still in their bag. I wasn’t sure if you wanted them putting away or disposing of.”

“Right, Miss Primm. I must admit that the matter of Edward’s clothing hadn’t crossed my mind. I suppose we must outfit him with more suitable attire You may discard his old attire.”

This raised a relieved smile from her and a look at the still discomfited Edward.

“Lord Edward will ensure you are appropriately taken care of in all the ways he can,” she said to him. “And that means new investments to start with.”

“Vestments. Clothes.” whispered Albert to his puzzled ward.

“And perhaps we may return his uniform to the Telegraph Office too being as he won’t have any more use of it.”

“But what am I goin’ to wear?” he said. “I ain’t got nuffin else ‘cept rags ‘n tatters. And I needs it for work anyway.”

“Work? Why bless me, you aren’t going to work no more.” Miss Primm said. “You are Lord Albert’s ward now and none of his family work. From now on, he will take care of all your needs and desires, I am sure.”

It was with great delight that Edward returned his uniform to the Telegraph Office, and was wished luck for the future by his fellows, mixed with a deal of envy of course. It was Albert’s intention to go from there to his tailors and have Edward fitted out with more suitable clothing, but a second glance at the lad told him that the clothes he was now wearing were too shabby even for a visit to his Saville Row tailors. Turning into a side-street, he soon located a small clothes shop from where he purchased a ready-made suit and a shirt which more or less fitted him.

“Now we will return home for a while,” Albert said, “for you to change into these temporary clothes and then we will pay a visit to my tailors.”

Edward had ceased being surprised at what was happening to him, being quite content to do as he was asked, and not ask questions. He failed completely to understand why, having just got one suit, the first he’d ever had, he was being taken to another establishment for another.

“I wish to outfit my nephew, just up from the country,” Lord Batchelor said to the obsequious assistant in the outfitters. “All he has with him are clothes more suitable for the field rather than the town.”

“Quite so,” the young man said, eyes glistening at the thought of the money about to flow through his master’s business. “Let him be measured whilst you and I discuss what he requires.”

The nervous Edward was taken off to the fitting room by the senior assistant whilst Lord Batchelor began to list what he required. Within a few minutes, there was a strangled yelp from the fitting room, which Albert recognised instantly. Upon entering the room he saw a red-faced Edward standing on a box, with his hands clasped to his groin.

“What’s the problem?” Batchelor enquired.

“The young master is reluctant to have me measure him for the outfits,” the tailor said. “I asked him to remove his outer garments so I could record his size.”

“I see,” Albert said, grinning to himself. “Let me have a few words with him and ascertain what the difficulty is.”

“All he wants to do is take some measurements,” Albert explained. “He can’t do it accurately over these rough clothes, and you are perfectly safe, I assure you!”

Still blushing, Edward leaned up to Albert and whispered in his ear, “I ain’t got no drawers on. You never told me I was gonna get undressed in front of a stranger!”

Only just managing to stifle a laugh, Albert called the tailor back and informed him that there was some confusion as to what the boy required in the way of clothes, and for the time being they would simply purchase some essentials: shirts, hosiery, undergarments, neckties and so on.

“By the time they are delivered,” Albert said, “We will have decided more precisely upon what we require and perhaps the measurements may be taken then, at my home?”

“But of course,” the man agreed. “Shall we say five o’clock?”

“Perfect,” Albert smiled and led the boy out of the establishment, much to his relief.

“That weren’t fair,” Edward giggled as they walked homewards. “You coulda told me what was gonna ‘appen in there.”

“I’m sorry, it simply never occurred to me. But you should always wear undergarments in any case.”

“I does mostly, but I only got two pair and they’s in the bag wiv me other stuff which Miss Primm got. An’ they ain’t too respectable either.”

“Very well,” Albert smiled. “But we must be better prepared when the tailor arrives this afternoon!”

“An’ what we going to do ‘til then?” Edward asked with a wicked glint.

“I have no idea. Perhaps you can suggest something to occupy the time?” Albert said with a shine in his eye as he opened their front door.

Once they’d confirmed that Miss Primm had retired for the afternoon, the couple hugged and kissed lightly in the hallway, smiling happily at one another.

“So? What do you suggest we do to occupy ourselves?” Albert asked, stroking Edward’s hair.

“Can we sort of christen my room?” Edward giggled.


Although they had undressed together many times, it was somehow different this time and both sensed it as they slowly divested themselves, avoiding direct eye contact until they climbed into Edward’s single bed.

The bed was a great deal smaller than Lord Batchelor’s of course, it being intended for use by one person only, but amid fits of giggles and with a certain amount of ingenuity they eventually manage to make themselves comfortable with Edward wrapped around Albert’s welcoming body. He sighed deeply as he snuggled up to Lord Batchelor and rested his head on his shoulder.

As was their custom, nothing was said for a good few minutes as they savoured the warmth and intimate contact they shared. Wriggling around a little, Edward turned his face upwards and kissed his guardian lightly on the lips.

“I loves bein’ like this,” he whispered. “Jus’ you ‘n me. Thanks.”

“For what?” Albert replied, returning the kiss.

“Ev’ry fink. Everything.” he grinned.

“It’s a pleasure. You deserve it.”

They chatted easily for some time, their hardened members being ignored except for an occasional fondle to confirm their presence. It was when their conversation ebbed that Edward, eyes sparkling with anticipation and desire, nibbled on Albert’s ear and whispered, “Well? We gonna do it then?”

“What?” Albert answered, feigning ignorance.

“Christen me – my – bed! I can’t wait any longer, you’re drivin’ me mad.”

“What do wish to do?”

“Everything! But first ….”

The narrow bed limited their actions somewhat but with a little patience they managed to absorb each other’s tumescence in their mouths, much to their mutual delight. They were in no hurry to complete the pleasant exercise and spent as much time caressing and fondling each other as they did anything else, but long before Edward wished it, he found himself convulsing and depositing his seed into Albert’s waiting throat. With a low growl he spasmed half a dozen times before he fell on top of Lord Batchelor, breathing deeply and grinning broadly.

“No matter how hard I try, I just can’t stop meself from firing off when you does that,” Edward sighed.

“No matter,” Albert replied. “That was just what I needed from you and we can always try again a little later. We have all the time in the world now that you have no need to leave the house.”

“But what about Miss Primm?” Edward said quietly. “I’d quite forgot about her. We gotta move soon or she’ll find out about what we gets up to.”

“I wouldn’t worry yourself about that too much,” Lord Batchelor smiled. “I believe she already understands that she mustn’t disturb us in the afternoons.”

“D’you mean that she knows about us?” Edward said, aghast at the thought.

“She assumes we are rather well acquainted, but there are some things she would rather not have confirmed,” Albert laughed. “ I may tell you though that she is content with things as they are.”

“She knows? She knows wot we does an’ all?”

“I doubt very much that she knows the details,” he grinned. “But she is aware that we share the same bed.”

“Me muvver would skin me alive if she had even half an idea wot you and me gets up to,” Edward giggled, “that’s after she’d cut your bits off o’ course!”

“In that case, let us think of better things. I see that I am still aroused, can you think of something to do with it?”

“If’n I puts me mind to it, I daresay I could,” Edward said, leaning up to kiss Albert. “Is you ready?”

“I’s ready!” Albert laughed. “Will you need the petroleum jelly?”

“No, not any more. I enjoy it better wivout.”

So saying, Edward changed places with Albert so that he was on his back, legs raised and eyes locked on Lord Batchelor, pleading for the one thing on Earth he wanted from him just at that moment.

Albert did indeed find entering his ward somewhat easier than he thought and in one smooth move found himself buried to the hilt. With a grunt of satisfaction, he gently began to work his full length in and out, watching Edward’s handsome face contort with bliss at every move he made. Even though Lord Batchelor and Edward had coupled many times, it was still an astounding experience for them, almost as if it were the first, memorable occasion. They had learned how to please each other intimately and so gain the absolute maximum amount of pleasure from the act, taking immense delight in knowing that each was as ecstatic as the other. Slowly at first, sensing the physical presence of one another, then a little faster as they acclimatised and built up a steady rhythm. Lastly, when Edward started to flex his cheeks together, the signal was given for Albert to exert his maximum effort and bring them both to a superb, enervating climax.

And so it was this time, with Edward taking little trouble to muffle his voice as he orgasmed painfully for the second time within the hour. Quelling the noise with a kiss, Albert embraced the boy tightly, his heart still racing with love and deep passion.

The were about to drop into a much needed nap when Albert happened to glance at the mantel clock and noted the time. With a start, he realised the tailor was due in half an hour: something he’d completely forgotten about thanks to Edward.

“Hurry,” Albert said. “We must stir ourselves and prepare to meet the tailor for your measuring.”

Mannering, the Master Tailor was shown into the Library where Lord Batchelor and his ward were trying their best to look as calm and collected as possible, despite having arrived there just five breathless minutes before.

“If the young master would like to remove his outer garments,” Mannering said quietly. “I will commence taking the measurements.”

Glancing at his ward, Albert was relieved to see him nod slightly in return, hopefully confirming that he’d remembered to put his drawers on this time.

Under instructions, Edward allowed himself to be pushed and prodded about as the man measured every possibly aspect of him, all the while making careful notes in his little book. The man’s professional interest in his body didn’t cause Edward any distress whatsoever this time, until that is, he felt his hands around his posterior. Blushing slightly, he gazed fixedly at a gas mantle until he’d finished. Then, very much to his surprise, Mr Mannering moved round to the front and without warning pressed a hand tight into Edward’s groin, pushing his testicles to one side as he did so. With an audible gasp, Edward reflexively bent backwards to remove himself from the intrusion.

“I shan’t be a moment longer, young sir,” Mannering said flatly. “If you would be so kind.”

Nervously, Edward stood up as straight as he could, eyes glazed and bottom lip gripped firmly between his teeth. Mannering replaced his hand and noted the inside leg measurement. Then, as if to add insult to injury, did no more than repeat the movement on the other side!

The only other hand that had touched him so intimately recently, apart from his own, was Lord Batchelor’s. And Albert’s hand always caused a certain reaction in his nether regions, which would have been welcomed. Despite his mind trying desperately to ignore the intimate contact of the stranger’s hand, his member decided otherwise and began to rise in anticipation. With a desperate ‘help me!’ stare at Albert, Edward froze.

“Thank you, sir. That will be all,” Mannering said, but Edward never heard a word.

It wasn’t until he saw Mr Mannering talking with his guardian that he realised he’d finished his measuring, and gratefully re-dressed himself hurriedly.


Edward survived his encounter with the tailor, thanks largely to Lord Batchelor’s help. The reward was the delivery a week later of a complete wardrobe of clothes which Edward stared at in disbelief as box after box was emptied and the contents safely place in the numerous cupboards and drawers in his room. The intervening week wasn’t wasted as, at Edward’s insistence, his lessons continued unabated. At the end of the week, he had managed to overcome his tendency to slip into his native dialect by and large and had also learned a good many new words. The only time he dropped into the more familiar cockney was when he was under stress, and as that was always in the bedroom, no one minded, least of all Albert, Lord Batchelor.

They were lying in bed one morning, comfortably embracing and allowing themselves to greet the new day as slowly as possible when Albert turned to Edward and asked that he take particular care with his dress that day as they were going out.

“Where?” Edward said, eyes sparkling.

“Nowhere special, just for a stroll around town. I feel it’s about time you met some of my acquaintances, and they met you. Much as I might prefer it, I can’t keep you hidden away all to myself!”

The prospect of meeting Albert’s friends, whilst exciting, created a feeling of nervousness in Edward’s stomach.

“Are you sure you want to introduce me to your friends?” Edward said. “I’m afraid I may disappoint you in front of them.”

“Nonsense!” Albert replied. “You are a fine young man anyone would be proud to meet. In any case, I want to make them feel a little envious.”

“But who shall we tell them that I am? I can’t just appear like magic from nowhere.”

“I’ve considered that. You are still Edward Welcome, I can’t see any reason to change that. But you are now also a distant relative of mine, who, for reasons too painful to describe, now find yourself my ward. Your previous home was, shall we say, a village not too far removed from Brighton.”

For the next month, Edward was slowly introduced to Lord Batchelor’s friends and acquaintances, none of whom took exception to the polite young man; indeed most of them were relieved that Albert had at long last found someone to share his life with. There was never even the slightest hint that any impropriety may be occurring between the two, such care had Albert taken over the years to distance himself from any sort of discussion on ‘those subjects’ that most people just assumed that he had little or no interest in sex. The fact that he had undertaken the care of a distressed young relative more than outweighed any doubts and also sat well with his friends.

One of their regular haunts was Lord Batchelor’s club, ‘The Misogynists’. Although Edward was much too young to become a member, he was allowed to dine in the restaurant with his guardian and even use the library on occasion. It was within the confines of the club that Lord Batchelor learned a surprising thing or two from Edward. The first thing, which Albert should have known, was that Edward knew quite a few of the members as in his past life he used to deliver their telegrams for them. Such was the change in Edward’s demeanour though that no one recognised him, if in fact they’d even looked at him twice in those days. The second thing which did surprise Albert was that several of the members were users of the Telegram Boys for purposes other than as messengers, in much the same way that his brother, the Lord Biggun did.

“Not that I ever visited them,” Edward was at pains to point out. “I left them to the likes of my friend Jack and his mates.”

One of the club members that Edward hadn’t met so far was David Melrose, the foppish young man who had advised Lord Batchelor that visits to the Turkish baths may be rewarding for anyone seeking ‘relief’. This was put right though later that week when Albert was settling his monthly account with the Club Secretary and Edward was stood by his side, watching the comings and goings. Quite suddenly he stiffened and grasped Lord Batchelor’s arm in panic. Turning to look at his ward, Albert saw a look of panic cross his face as he stared at David Melrose walking into the club.

“What’s the matter?” Albert asked, taking Edward to one side. “What has frightened you so?”

“That man, the one just come in, I knows ‘im.”

“Oh?” Lord Batchelor enquired. “Where from?”

“Not in here,” Edward whispered. “Can we go elsewhere?”

A few minutes later they were seated on the embankment, with Edward somewhat calmer now that he was away from the club.

“Like I told you afore,” Edward started, “I use to go wiv other gents sometimes, before I met your bruvver. But I stopped when one of ‘em ‘urt me. An’ that was the man.”

“What? How?” Albert said, deeply concerned that anyone would, or could, cause pain to such a pleasant and attractive young man as Edward.

“I used to meet him at Lord Biggun’s club, you know, the Ganymede. Fings were OK at first, just a bit o’ messin’ about sort of stuff, but then he started to want to do different fings, games sort of, ‘e said.”

“Such as what?” Lord Batchelor enquired, intrigued.

Edward blushed and look down at his feet, hands nervously wringing together.

“I’m not sure as I can tell you. It don’t feel right tellin’ you such stuff, you bein’ so good to me an’ all. You might not like me any more if’n I tells you.”

“There’s nothing you can’t tell me,” Albert said. “I know that you wouldn’t do anything unacceptable unless you were coerced.”

“Coerced?” Edward echoed.

“Made to,” Albert explained.

“Oh. He did that right enough. At first he got me to smack him, you know, on his arse. That got him real excited an’ he wanted to do it to me. I wouldn’t ‘ave it at first but then ‘e said he’d give me a bit more dosh and so I let ‘im. That weren’t too bad, but one day …….”

Edward stopped talking for a minute or two as he recollected what was obviously a painful memory.

“… one day he wanted to tie me up to the bed ‘for a bit o’ fun’ so’s I let ‘im. But then ‘e says ‘e wants to bugger me. I ain’t ever let anyone do that afore and I keeps sayin’ no, but he didn’t listen and ‘e stuck ‘is thing in me real hard an’ ‘as ‘is way wiv me. It ‘urt real bad.”

“Then what?” Lord Batchelor said, appalled at the thought.

“When ‘ed done, ‘e untied me, told me to get dressed and throws a gold guinea at me an’ tells me to get out. I never went back to ‘im after that, but some of me mates did an’ ‘e did the same to them.”

“I am truly sorry for you,” Albert said. “It must have pained you a great deal.”

“Yeah. But I told your bruvver what he was doin’ to me an’ me mates and ‘e had to leave the club.”

Albert wanted to hold Edward in a much-needed comforting embrace, but was unable to: instead he consoled him with words as much as he could.

“Never mind anymore, it’s all over now,” Albert ended, “It won’t ever happen again.”

“Not to me,” Edward sighed, clasping Albert’s hand tightly, “But it’s ‘appening to boys ‘e picks up in the Haymarket and round Piccadilly. I knows ‘cause me mates tell me. An’ I’ll still see ‘im in your club.”

The somewhat subdued pair walked home quietly, each full of their own thoughts; Edward regretting having revealed a sordid piece of his past he’d much rather forget, and Albert resolving to stop the man from wreaking further harm in any way he could.


Albert and Edward were laying in bed together later that same afternoon when Lord Batchelor, sensing that all wasn’t quite right with his ward, turned to him and asked what was troubling him.

“I don’t know,” he answered pensively. “I can’t help thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you, safe and comfortable when some of me friends are bein’ treated badly by the likes of Mr Melrose. It don’t seem right somehow.”

The same thoughts had been playing on Albert’s mind too, but he had more or less decided to ignore the problem as being too delicate and difficult to solve. The comments from Albert made him think again though.

“Do you think we can do anything to help your friends?” he enquired.

“Dunno. It’d be nice if we could but I don’t see hows we can.”

“There must be a way, and if it will make you and your friends feel better, then we will find it.”

Edward cuddled up closer to Albert and kissed him gently, “I wish we could,” he whispered as he grasped Albert’s flaccid member and stirred it to life before taking it into his mouth.

All else was forgotten for the next hour as the two pleasured themselves happily, the somewhat depressing tenor of their earlier conversations being banished as their passions took control of them.

The subject of David Melrose wasn’t broached again until after dinner that night when Albert and Edward were sitting quietly in the lounge. With a thoughtful edge to his voice, Edward turned to Lord Batchelor and said, “I heard that the Earl of Kent had to go and leave the country after he was found messin’ with boys last year. What happened?”

Albert recollected the incident well, the Earl being a member of the Ganymede Club and an acquaintance of his brother. There had been a number of rumours at the time about the Earl’s behaviour, which, whilst never being brought to the attention of the authorities, had given rise to serious concerns among his fellow club members.

“It was alleged that he misused a boy or two in an unwarranted fashion,” Lord Batchelor started. “He also enticed several other youngsters into doing things against their will and better judgement.”

Edward perked up at hearing this and asked his guardian to explain further, never having heard the full story.

Albert explained that the Earl seemingly was never satisfied with the discrete attentions of just one or two willing boys, but set out to seduce and entrap some who were innocent and totally ignorant of such behaviours.

“He made the mistake,” Lord Batchelor went on, “of seducing the son of one of his friends. Whether the boy was a willing partner or not I don’t know, but the boy’s father discovered their relationship and threatened to expose him in the worst possible way. The only recourse the Earl had was to decamp to Paris, where he now lives along with several others who have faced similar difficulties.”

“That must have been a relief for the boys he abused,” Edward said. “At least they were out of his reach and were safe. Will the Earl ever be allowed back?”

“Not for some years, I expect. But he had the last laugh though, he took with him two of his favourite boys, the son of his coachman and the butcher’s delivery boy!”

“It’s a pity we can’t send Mr Melrose to join them,” Edward laughed grimly, “That would be justice indeed!”

The remainder of the evening was spent in discussing various ways in which a halt could be brought to David Melrose’s activities: some serious, others whimsical and fantastic. Even when they retired for the night, the theme was continued, the only thing being decided was that they would start by finding out as much as they could about their man.

Learning about Melrose’s life wasn’t difficult as he was quite well-known about town, not only because of his sexual proclivities, but also because of his extravagant lifestyle. He was the son of a successful trader and maintained a lavish standard of living from a small but exclusive apartment in Mayfair. By all accounts, his bills were met by his father on condition that he stayed away from the family, no doubt because of his social habits. Lord Batchelor appraised the Secretary of the Misogynist Club of the facts he had unearthed, including the fact that he had been required to resign from the Ganymede. Surprisingly, the Secretary was already aware of most of the information Albert imparted and although he took note of the latest allegations laid before him seemed unable or unwilling to take things further.

“Surely, his membership of the Misogynist Club must be brought into question?” Lord Albert asked. “We may have made a mistake in allowing him to become a member.”

The Secretary bridled a little at this and informed Lord Batchelor that the Membership Committee did not make mistakes, especially with members as free with their money as David Melrose. “In any case,” he carried on, “We are unaware of his alleged indiscretions bringing the club into any form of disrepute, which would be the only way of requesting his resignation. Furthermore, it may be something of a surprise to you, but the Rules of the Club do not permit us to terminate anyone’s membership.”

There was more Albert could have said, including the names of some of the boys he had abused, but he was acutely conscious that imparting such information would place his own membership in question and also involve Edward, which he had no intention of doing.

The Secretary, seeing Lord Albert was in some little distress at hearing this news, calmed down a little and in a conspiratorial whisper, went on, “It may be that the committee, whilst not admitting to making a mistake, may have committed an error of judgement in this case which would needs be remedied. If you are able to provide us with firm details of any indiscretions the member in question may have committed, then a request for his resignation may be made.”

“And supposing the member in question refuses to tender his resignation, as I think would be the case here?”

There was a slight cough from the Secretary who looked around him carefully before adding,

“Once a Gentleman is elected to membership of the club, Lord Albert, he remains a member until he resigns, or dies. I believe such is the case with all London clubs and there is only one caveat to this, as far as I am aware. It is a little known fact, My Lord, that all new members undergo a 12-month period of probation once they are elected, to ensure their probity if you understand me.”

“Quite correct too, but how does that alter the situation?” Albert asked.

“After the year has elapsed, the Membership Committee are supposed to confer full membership on the applicant, but they very rarely remember to do so. Which means, in effect, that most of our members are on a sort of permanent probation.”

“I see. And should a fellow fail to pass the probationary period, he will not be granted full membership?”

“Quite so, My Lord, but such an action has never been taken in my time. After all, this is a gentleman’s club. No one would willingly suffer the indignity of being drummed out of his own club. ‘Death before Dishonour’ I believe is an appropriately apt quotation.”

‘So,’ thought Albert to himself as he strolled homewards, ‘that particular avenue is closed and so another must be sought.’

His musings were interrupted on arrival at Belgrave Square when he was handed a letter from his nephew Charles. It had been some time since he had had communication from him and was delighted to see that he hadn’t been forgotten. As usual, the letter was in two parts, the first and less important one dealt with routine school matters of no real consequence as its contents were approved by his Housemaster before being posted. The other, much more delectable part, was written hastily in Latin and placed in the envelope at the last minute.

In it, Charles told of some of the adventures he had become involved in at school and how much he was enjoying himself. ‘There is a small group of boys who indulge themselves on a regular basis,’ he said. ‘We meet at dead of night in an empty dormitory and have the most wondrous times,’ he went on. ‘I would never have believed that such things could occur in a school unless I saw them for myself. There is even one boy, whose name I shan’t divulge, who enjoys being tied up and beaten before he allows himself to be taken from behind by several of his friends, one after the other.’

Albert smiled to himself as he digested this information, knowing full well that Charles would relish such behaviour whole-heartedly, and may even be the un-named participant. He was just thinking how much he looked forward to seeing Charles on his next visit and hearing first-hand tales of his doings when an idea began to form in his mind.

“What you finkin’ abaht?” Edward said, placing himself in Albert’s lap and giving him a kiss. The use of his native Cockney was now done for fun as much as anything else, and usually reserved for when they were alone and feeling playful.

“Nothing special,” Albert smiled. “Just wondering where you were, that is all.”

Edward giggled and dropped his hand into Albert’s groin. “I knew it must be something like that, ‘cause I can see it!”

It was true. Reading Charles’ letter had given him an erection which Edward had noticed and assumed he was the cause of. “Wanna go upstairs?” he whispered in Albert’s ear, “And share it with me?”

In reply, Albert kissed Edward deeply and allowed his hands to explore his body, soon finding out that his ward was just as aroused as he.

“I think we’d better before we become carried away by our feelings and are discovered!” he laughed.

The thoughts that had been wending their way through Lord Batchelor’s mind ensured that there was no leisurely build-up to their pleasuring each other and no sooner were they undressed and in bed than Albert lay on his back and raised his legs. More than willing to take up the invitation, Edward arranged himself between the uplifted knees and pressed himself home, slowly and delightedly. Gently, Edward moved himself in and out, taking care to use the full length of his member to satisfy Albert, who in his turn showed his appreciation by moaning softly at each insertion. Despite his anxiety to please his Lordship and delight himself at the same time, Edward kept to a slow steady pace which he knew would serve to heighten the intensity of the orgasm when it arrived. And he wasn’t mistaken. When he felt he was close to reaching his climax, he grinned broadly at Lord Albert and with an almost vicious but very satisfying thrust he buried himself as deep as he could, not moving until he was sure he had no more to offer the man he loved.

The ecstatic feelings that Edward had just experienced seemed to be infectious as, almost without a pause, Albert pulled his ward downwards so they were chest-to-chest and they kissed passionately. Between their perspiring bodies, Batchelor’s penis was aching for some serious attention and Edward knew it. Raising himself up slightly, he rested the impatient organ against his fundament for a moment and then sank down on it, not for one second breaking eye contact with the man he had come to love so much.

Thus they pleasured themselves once again, both taking great delight in their closeness and ability to know exactly what their needs and desires were.

Usually when they had such an invigorating time together, they rested in each others embrace and dozed, but for once, Albert couldn’t resist looking at Edward’s handsome face and into his eyes.

“I really am a lucky, lucky man,” he whispered as he stroked Edward’s hair.

“Not as fortunate as I,” Edward replied. “To find a man such as yourself, and to live in a fine house ……”

Lord Batchelor stopped any further comments by kissing him on the lips and holding him tightly.

“We must do something about that David Melrose man,” Edward said quietly as they rested. “I feels badly for the boys he mistreats. Makes me realise how lucky I am, not bein’ treated like they is.”

Lord Batchelor agreed entirely, and they discussed various ways in which the man could be brought to book; some serious, others more frivolous.

“It’s a pity that someone can’t give him a taste of his own medicine, just once,” Edward sighed. “That might teach him a lesson.”

“You’re right, Edward. But I don’t know anyone who could manage to do that.”

Or did he?

He hadn’t forgotten Charles’ proclivities of course, but he was reluctant to place the lad in a possibly dangerous situation. But then, on reflection, realised that Charles would not allow himself to be exposed to any possibility of hurt – unless he wanted to that is, and from his own knowledge of the boy he was not always averse to a little pain.

“You know Charles, my nephew?” Lord Batchelor asked.

“Lord Biggun’s son, about as old as me?”

“That’s the one. Well, he has certain, shall we say, tastes, which may be of use to us. I am sure he could deal with the likes of Mr. Melrose.”

Edward smiled at the thought, and asked what he had in mind.

“Nothing yet, but I am sure that between the three of us, we should be able to come up with something appropriate. Let us give it some thought”


They couldn’t devise any workable plan immediately, but the evening was spent in discussing many varied ideas.

“First thing we must do,” Lord Batchelor mused, “Is to find out as much as we can about David Melrose. Precisely where he lives, who his friends are, and where he goes to amuse himself and so on.”

“That bit’s easy. I can get my friends at the Telegraph Office to find out as much as you want. There ain’t much they don’t know, or can’t find out,” Edward giggled.

“Good. Perhaps you can talk to them then. And in the meantime, I must write letters to my brother and nephew, appraising them of the situation. I am sure Arthur will relish the prospect of dealing with such a man, and grant me the loan of his son for a few days. As to Charles, I am certain he will welcome a few days away from school and the opportunity to use his somewhat dubious talents.”

Lord Biggun was more than willing to accede to his brother’s request, not least because of the harm Melrose had done to the reputation of the Ganymede Club, its members, and that of the boys who visited it. Charles of course, despite not knowing exactly what was required of him, was more than willing to take part in the adventure, especially as it involved activities usually only available from a very few select, and often reluctant, school fellows.

It was agreed to have a rare family gathering just as soon as it could be arranged in order to discuss plans for the demise of David Melrose. The two lords met only rarely as their worlds didn’t overlap to any degree, their only common interest being the upkeep and profitability of their estate. And Charles of course: but it was very rarely indeed that he, or his behaviour, was discussed openly. Both men were well aware of his tastes, and didn’t object to them in the slightest – how could they? The only time he was talked about was when he had misbehaved so blatantly that words had to be said – and as time went by that was less and less frequent.

After a very satisfying dinner provided by the inimitable Miss Primm, Edward had gone out to discover what news his friends had for him, which left Lord Albert sat in his library trying to work out how best to arrange things for the gathering. Smiling ruefully to himself, he mused that the situation was indeed peculiar. Firstly there was himself and his young ward, Edward, with whom he was besotted. Then there was Charles, his equally young nephew who had first introduced him to the delights of Ganymede and for whom he still had a tenderness. Lastly there was his brother, Lord Arthur Biggun who knew both boys intimately, together with several others and who therefore had a vested interest in the proceedings.

Uppermost in his mind were the sleeping arrangements. His apartment had three bedrooms in theory; one for himself, one for Edward (which was hardly, if ever, used), and a third which for some years now had been used as a store room and didn’t even contain a bed he thought. No matter how he juggled things around, he couldn’t find an answer that would please all. It would have been simple if Edward agreed to share with Lord Arthur for a night. That would leave Albert and Charles together, a thought which he found most alluring. But Edward had intimated that he would far prefer not to stay with Lord Biggun if it could be avoided, after all he had spent many nights with him in the past and knew his habits and preferences. Whilst they were not especially distasteful, he had changed enough in himself to bridle slightly at the thought. Plus, of course, no matter how hard he tried, he would be jealous of Charles and the attentions he knew he would receive from his uncle.

It was whilst pondering over these matters that two things happened almost simultaneously. Firstly, Edward returned from his foray with some interesting information, and secondly a messenger arrived with a telegram. Bidding Edward wait a while, he opened the envelope and sighed with relief as he digested its contents. Showing it to Edward, a grin spread over his face as he read that Lord Biggun would not be staying with Lord Batchelor, but gracing the Ganymede Club with his presence that night. He would be appreciative, however, if Lord Albert would dine with him ‘early evening’.

“And I know why it’s gotta be early,” Edward giggled. “He’s meeting a friend of mine, for some high jinks later!”

Albert sighed with amusement at Edward’s obvious delight, but then frowned.

“But what about Charles? I’m sure he won’t expect to sleep alone, I know he doesn’t like it, especially in a house other than his own.”

“Then he needn’t!” Edward replied, raising his eyebrows. “There is one solution I can contemplate. I don’t mind if you are amenable to the suggestion.”

“May I assume that doesn’t involve you making use of your own bedroom?” Albert smiled.

“Perhaps!” Edward laughed as he settled himself on Lord Batchelor’s lap. “From what you’ve told me, it could be an interesting situation!”

“You are almost as much a rogue as Charles,” Albert said. “But the idea certainly bears some merit and I am sure Charles will be agreeable.”

“Good. That is one problem solved. Now I have another, more pressing one for you.”

“Oh? And what may that be?” Lord Batchelor asked, concerned.

“This!” Edward laughed and placed his guardians hand on the swelling in his groin.

Albert fondled the tumescence concealed by the thin trousers, and allowed his own phallus to erect itself.

“Does this mean an early night for us?” he asked.

In reply, Edward kissed Albert softly on the lips and embraced him. “I think that is an excellent idea, my Lord. Shall we?”

It was in the early hours of the morning that the two happy lovers finally lay back in their bed, fully sated and at perfect peace with the world.

“When are we expecting our visitors?” Edward yawned as he nestled into Albert’s arms.

“Early Friday evening. I will leave Charles in your charge whilst Arthur and I go to dine. We will have a family conference on Saturday morning if all goes well. Whilst I am out, have a talk with young Charles and see what you can think of between you. I will no doubt do the same with my brother.”

“Very well,” Edward said as he dropped off into a much-needed sleep.


Edward and Charles had only met in passing, usually at the Ganymede Club when Edward was leaving after spending the night with Lord Biggun, and Charles was waiting his father. To start with, Edward had always been a little nervous around Charles as he didn’t know how much he knew about the activities his father and he practised. This had changed somewhat after Lord Albert had explained the situation to him, and although the boys still hadn’t spoken very much, at least they had something in common.

What they had in common too was their build, both being a little taller and thinner than the average for their age, but in all other respects typical 14 and 15 year old boys. This became evident as the two adults and two boys gathered in the library soon after Lord Biggun had arrived with Charles. Their conversations were rather stilted to begin with, mainly due to the slight embarrassment that Lord Biggun felt at having met Edward in rather different circumstances than he had in the past. This was soon picked up by both the boys who began to tease the man gently until Lord Albert put a stop to it.

“I think it is about time we went to your club Arthur,” Lord Albert said, shaking his head in mild reproof at Edward and Charles.

“I quite agree,” he replied, grateful for the intervention. “Charles, behave yourself whilst I am away and don’t wreck the place!”

“Of course not, father. Edward and I are sure to have a high old time whilst you and Uncle Albert are dining. About what time shall we expect you back?” Charles asked.

“I think at about ten o’clock,” Lord Batchelor said. “We are dining early this evening.”

“Perhaps even a little earlier,” Lord Biggun added. “I have an, err, appointment at ten o’clock.”

Everyone knew of course what the ‘appointment’ was, but politely said nothing, the only sign of acknowledgement being from the two boys who grinned at each other.

Once the men had left, Charles and Edward conversed politely for a while, neither knowing quite what to talk about. There was of course ‘the problem’ of David Melrose to discuss but neither was confident enough to broach the subject directly. It was Charles who had the courage to move things along a little.

“I am in need of a bath after my journey. The roads are so dirty and dusty that I feel quite unclean,” he smiled. “Would you mind?”

“Of course not. You know where everything is, I expect,” Edward replied. “I shall wait here for you.”

“I would much prefer it if you accompanied me,” Charles said. “We can continue our conversation at the same time. If you don’t mind talking to me whilst I am bathing, of course. It is quite usual at my school and no one is at all put out by it.”

The slight burgeoning in Edward’s trousers welcomed the idea and the two boys hurried upstairs, Edward’s mind picturing a huge bath room filled with naked boys

“I used to be inspected by my father or Uncle Albert whenever I had a bath,” Charles said as he undressed. “It wasn’t necessary of course, but I do believe they took some pleasure in it.”

“And you didn’t?” Edward grinned.

“Well, perhaps just a little, and it always led on to other things” he laughed. “I have rather a good body, don’t you think?”

Edward looked Charles over carefully as he displayed himself and agreed that he did, indeed, have a fine body. In particular, that special part of him that made him a boy was especially fine. It was perhaps a little larger that Edward’s, and had a little more hair beginning to grow at the base of it, but it was handsome nevertheless.

“Do you get inspected at school?” Edward asked, unable to move his eyes.

“Only by the other boys,” Charles grinned. “We compare appendages regularly to make sure we are developing properly.”

“I’ll wager that isn’t all you compare!” Edward mused.

“Perhaps not,” Charles agreed. “But now it’s your turn. Would you like to share the bath with me?”

That was just what Edward wanted to hear, and without further comment, he too stripped off and invited Charles to examine him.

“I can see why Uncle Albert has fallen for you,” Charles said seriously. “You and I are much alike.”

This pleased Edward immensely and it was with a happy heart he stepped into the water and sat facing his new friend, their glans standing just proud of the water, inviting attention.

Naturally, it was Charles who initiated further developments as he was far more accustomed not only to being naked with other boys, but also used to having his own way with them.

“What do you receive most enjoyment from?” he asked as he grasped Edward’s tumescence and began to stroke it gently.

Edward wasn’t sure how to answer this; on the one hand he didn’t want to reveal what he and Albert did in the privacy of their bed chamber, and secondly he knew he wasn’t anywhere near as experienced as Charles.

“I, err, don’t really know,” he mumbled, his mind already succumbing to Charles erotic fondlings. “I think I just enjoy being toyed with and embracing for the most part. And you?”

“Oh, most things,” Charles giggled. “I don’t suppose there is much that I haven’t tried, especially since I started to go to my school.” Then after a slight pause, added, “I don’t mind almost anything, if you understand me.”

“I think I do, but that is something I do not particularly enjoy. I have only taken it that way on a few occasions, and each time it caused me pain. It is not something I would like to repeat, but I understand others are quite amenable.” He was lying of course, but was unwilling to divulge that it was one of his and Lord Albert’s favourite activities.

“That is understandable. I, in fact, quite like it provided the member is of appropriate size and neither too large or too small. Rather like yours in fact.”

The two boys looked at each other, a flash of understanding passing between them, their roles now being determined.

“Shall we retire to bed for a while? I believe we have some time to amuse ourselves before my Uncle returns.” Charles grinned.

“I would enjoy that,” Edward answered. “We can become better acquainted.”

“Without doubt!” Charles laughed as he helped Edward out of the water.

Despite their attempts to maintain some sort of savoir-faire, they were both excited enough to hurry through their drying and within a few moments were making themselves comfortable in Edward’s bed.

“I rather like smaller beds,” Charles giggled as they embraced. “They are much more conducive to friendliness!”

Edward smiled and nodded in reply. In fact he was struck by the thought that despite his age and experience, this was the first time that he had actually been in bed with anyone so close to his own age: in the past his bed partners had been older men. The few time he had been with other boys, it had been for a hurried fondle and orgasm hidden in the back of the Telegraph Office or other secretive place. This was certainly much better and more exciting.

“May I kiss you?” he asked Charles. “That is one thing I enjoy, as I hope you do.”

For answer, Charles leaned over and took Edward in his arms, pressed their lips together and allowed their tongues to entwine.

One thing that both boys were experienced in was how to delight and pleasure their partner, and simultaneously derive their own joy. Thus it was that they were both immersed in a blissful ecstasy before long, all else forgotten: there was no need for words now as hands roamed where they will, each move taking them closer and closer to ultimate fulfilment.

“Wait!” Charles gasped, his face flushed with excitement. “I want you inside me before it is too late.”

More than willing to oblige, Edward rolled onto his back and allowed his penis to stand hugely erect between them, throbbing gently in anticipation.

“Beautiful!” Charles whispered, stroking it softly. “And just the correct size too.”

“Do you need any lubricant?” Edward gasped between breaths.

“No!” Charles sniggered. “I have been taken this way so frequently that my fundament never knows whether something is coming in or going out, and so is prepared for either eventuality!”

Edward laughed at this thought and tried to relax as Charles slowly lowered himself onto the waiting implement.

“Perfect, just perfect,” Charles moaned as he gazed at his partner, satisfaction showing through his shining eyes.

And so it was, for both of them, even to the extent that when Edward finally had no choice except to let loose his seed, Charles reciprocated by depositing his own on Edward’s chest simultaneously.

Grinning at one another in pleasure, the two boys embraced and kissed tenderly in celebration.

“Does this make us friends?” Edward laughed as he relaxed happily and held Charles in his arms.

“Most certainly, Edward. Rather special friends,” Charles said as he kissed him again.

“Good, I am pleased for that. But now I suppose we should discuss our Mr Melrose,” Edward said thoughtfully.

“Mmmmm, I rather think we should, else Uncle Albert will wonder what we have been at,” Charles agreed.


If you want to devise any sort of sexual deviancy, especially one involving pain and humiliation, then there is no better source than two excited teenage boys, both of whom have experienced it and at least one of them actually enjoyed it. Pooling their thoughts and ideas, it wasn’t all that long before they agreed upon a rough plan which could be put before Lord Batchelor for approval.

“Our idea should cause enough embarrassment for Mr Melrose that he will have no recourse other than to leave town at least, and possibly the country if it comes to fruition,” Charles explained to Lord Albert later that evening.

“That would please me enormously,” Edward added, “As well as many of my friends.”

The pair of excited teenagers told Albert the outline of their plan, which he thought highly novel as well as effective. “There is a certain amount of risk in it for you, Charles,” Albert said, worry showing in his voice. “I fear for your own safety.”

“There is no need for concern in that regard,” the boy explained. “I have had a certain amount of experience in such matters as you may well guess and there will be no danger for me, of that I can assure you, especially as Edward is to be my aide.”

“In that case, may I suggest that we retire for the night and discuss it further in the morning? Charles, you have the option of sleeping in the small bedroom alone if you wish, or joining Edward and I in ours.”

“You don’t seriously expect me to sleep alone, do you?” Charles grinned. “You know how nervous I am in a strange house.”

“I don’t believe you for a moment, young Charles!” Albert laughed. “But I am sure Edward would welcome your company just as much as I, if he hasn’t already!”

At this the boys blushed slightly and grinned at each other, only faintly put out by the comment.

Little conversation was held once the three were comfortably ensconced in the bed, lips having much more interesting things to do than form unnecessary words. Neither Albert not Edward had experienced the delights of three excited people in a bed before, and even for Charles, it was an all too infrequent event. The numerous experiments and investigations they carried out between them led to a huge amount of jocularity and amusement, much enjoyed by all, but it was Charles of course who was the more venturesome of the trio.

Stretched out between Albert and Edward, with an erection in each hand, he looked from one to the other and giggling, said, “I am at a complete loss as to which one to take first, they are both so inviting!” Then, with a glint in his eye, added, “But I feel it should be Uncle Albert first, seeing as Edward has already had his turn. But so as not to leave Edward without any attention, I shall impale him on my own sword at the same time!”

Amid much merriment and failed attempts, it was Edward who finally suggested an answer to their problem. Kneeling on the floor against the bed, he leaned forward and waited for Charles to press his sword into the scabbard. Once this was comfortably housed, all that remained was for Albert to join the team by uniting himself with Charles. Quite suddenly the room went very quiet as the trio first savoured the new sensations and then began to move to and fro in unison. The atmosphere was almost palpable as they immersed themselves in the most erotic of activities, each rapidly approaching their climax as never before. It was Albert who lost control first, thrusting his seed into a wildly groaning Charles, who in his turn fired off into the blissful Edward, causing him to shoot his offering onto the bedclothes.

“Bleedin’ ‘ell!” stammered the shocked Edward.

“Goodness me!” Albert gasped.

Charles collapsed on the bed, eyes glazed, with a broad grin on his face and gasping like a fish out of water. “That. Was. Truly. Amazing.” he eventually managed to stutter.


The proposed morning discussion was held somewhat later than intended, all three of the participants sleeping in later than usual, and it was a bleary-eyed trio who eventually gathered round the library table. Once settled though, minds soon concentrated on the matter in hand and the finer details agreed upon.

It was agreed to put the plan into action as soon as possible, one reason being that Charles had only a limited amount of time away from his school and the other being that David Melrose was known to be without a young companion at the moment. Another thing known about him was that he was in the habit of visiting the nearby Turkish bath on Monday mornings prior to having lunch at the Misogynists Club. It was there that Albert and Charles awaited his arrival.

Ensuring that they were seated where they couldn’t be missed, the pair relaxed in the steam room, their eyes constantly on the door. Albert had his towel and loin cloth arranged so as to discretely hide his genitals. Charles, as was the rule, retained his underdrawers but in emulation of his uncle pulled them into his groin so as to leave little to the imagination. This of course attracted a deal of attention from their fellows, the majority of whom took haste to hide their own growing tumescences.

David Melrose, of course, was also taken in by the sight as he entered the chamber and was more than delighted to recognise Lord Batchelor.

“And who is this young man?” he enquired as he joined them, much to the envy of others around them.

“Oh, I am sorry. This is Charles, my nephew. Son of my brother, Lord Biggun. Charles, meet Mr Melrose, a fellow member of the Misogynists.”

The shook hands courteously, Charles noting that David’s eyes were fixed on his groin.

“I believe we have met briefly once or twice before, at my uncle’s club.”

David Melrose looked at the boy a little more closely and grinned. “I do believe we have, but if I may make so bold, you were dressed more formally then!”

Charles made a show of adjusting his drawers as if embarrassed, but the slight smile he showed Melrose intimated that he wasn’t entirely displeased at the comment.

Amiably the three chatted about inconsequentials for an hour or so before Albert informed them that it was time for their lunch.

“May I accompany you?” David asked. “It is my habit to dine at our club on Mondays and I shall be most pleased if you would join me.”

“It will be a pleasure. Thank you on my and Charles behalf.” Lord Batchelor said, delighted that their plan was working out as planned so far.

They had disposed of their soup course and awaiting their veal pie when the club doorman appeared at their table with a note for Lord Batchelor.

“I’m sorry Mr Melrose,” he said after glancing at it. “I’m afraid we must take our leave of you. I have been summoned to an urgent business meeting with my brother, Charles’ father.”

Charles grimaced and stared at his uncle. “Must I go?” he pleaded. “Your meetings are so tedious and boring. I would much prefer to remain here and wait for your return.”

“Would you mind?” Albert said, looking at Melrose. “I shouldn’t be too long and it would be a great help if Charles could remain here with you.”

“Of course, of course. It will be a pleasure,” Melrose enthused, his face lighting up at this unexpected turn of events.

“I have brought my Homer to study and so I’ll be no trouble to you,” Charles said seriously. “I have so much difficulty with it that I shall be quite absorbed.”

“Homer!” Melrose exclaimed. “My favourite. I have an English translation at my home if that would be of any assistance to you.”

“May I Uncle? It really would be of great help to me if I could compare them.”

Pausing for a few moments, Albert stroked his chin as if in thought before saying, “I am content with that, provided that you return home by four o’clock when your father and I will be expecting you.”

No sooner had Albert departed than Charles opened his textbook and pointed out the verses he was having problems with.

“Come and sit alongside me,” Melrose said. “It will make it easier for me to explain to you.”

More than willing to oblige, Charles slid into the chair beside his temporary tutor.

“It’s here,” he said, turning to a page almost at random and at the same time moving up closer to Melrose so their knees were in contact.

In fact Charles’ Latin was much better than Melrose’s but that was hardly a problem just at the moment. Instead he let him ramble on for a few moments before stopping him and asking, “Is it true that certain parts have been omitted from the texts we study at school, Mr Melrose?”

“I believe that is so,” he said, knowing perfectly well that it was indeed so, and that the expurgated rather libidinous passages were included in his English version.

“Why?” enquired Charles innocently.

“Well, err, I do believe they are considered rather inappropriate for innocent young minds,” he replied, laughing lightly.

“Would you show them to me?” Charles asked quietly, looking directly at Melrose and pressing his knee against his thigh. “I am not so innocent as you may believe and I will certainly keep it a secret between ourselves.”

There was an almost instant reaction from Melrose, “If you wish, but it must remain strictly between ourselves. There are some who may not appreciate your knowledge of them.”

“Thank you!” Charles effused, replacing his knee with his hand and giving Melrose a squeeze rather higher on his thigh than was strictly decent.

At least Melrose had the grace to cough at this rather forward action, but dropped his own hand on top of Charles to ensure it remained there as long as possible.

“Would you prefer to finish your meal first, or shall we go immediately?” he asked.

“Just as soon as we are able,” Charles smiled. “I am rather keen to see it.”

Whether or not Charles meant the textbook or something other was debatable as he gave Melrose’s leg another squeeze.

“Shall we walk, or take a carriage?” Melrose asked. “My home is in Mayfair, about twenty minutes walking.”

“Let’s take a carriage, if you don’t mind,” Charles said. “I don’t think I should be walking just at present, if you take my meaning.”

With a quick glance under the table, David knew precisely why Charles’ was reluctant to walk abroad.

“I fear I am in somewhat of a similar state to yourself,” Melrose whispered to Charles. “Perhaps it would be better to take a Hackney.”

And so it was with almost indecent haste that the two departed the club and hailed a passing Hackney carriage. Before climbing in, Charles glanced across the road and was relieved to see Edward and a pair of his friends watching their departure. With a sigh of relief, he gave them the slightest of acknowledgements and joined David Melrose for the journey home.

“I believe the volume in question is in my bedroom,” Melrose said as they entered his apartment a little later. “If you like, I will go and collect it.”

“No matter. We may read it just as well there as anywhere else,” Charles smiled sweetly.

“Of course.”

It took a little while to locate the book, but once found they sat on the edge of the bed leafing through it.

“Here,” said Melrose, indicating a verse. “Read this for example.”

The verse in question was indeed unsuitable for young boys, especially those with imagination. And so were several others they found.

“I am quite hot,” Charles said after a while. “May I make myself a little more comfortable?”

“Of course. Do what you wish,” Melrose said, his heart missing a beat as he stared at the boys obvious arousal.

The first thing Charles did was to open the window to admit some air, but before Melrose could make any comment, he loosened his trousers and made a show of rearranging his member to make it less painful, yet more obvious to an onlooker. “That book has had rather an effect on me,” he giggled. “I hope you don’t mind my commenting, but I see you have a similar problem too.”

“Err, yes, I do seem to be rather uncomfortable. Would you mind if I did the same as yourself, Charles?”

“Not in the slightest, Mr Melrose. In fact I would like to help you if I may.”

“I knew there was something about you,” Melrose whispered as Charles started to unfasten Melrose’s clothes. “You really are quite a special boy, aren’t you?”

“So I have been led to believe by my school fellows, but I have been away from school now for so long that I am quite hungry, if you understand me.”

“Oh, yes, I believe I do. You are missing your friends I assume.”

“A few rather special ones, yes, I am.” Charles said as he rested his hands on Melrose’s drawers.

“Would you like me to replace them for a little while and try to relieve your, err, hunger?” Melrose said quietly.

“That would be kind of you,” Charles whispered.

“What would you like to do?”

In reply Charles glanced meaningfully at the bed and then back at Melrose.

Wordlessly, they stepped closer together and removed their clothing, item by item, until they were staring at one another, naked and aroused.

“Shall we?” Melrose said, stepping over to the bed and gently pulling Charles along with him. “What in particular do you enjoy?” Melrose asked as they stroked each other softly.

Hesitantly, Charles looked at his partner and whispered, “I hardly dare mention what that is. You may think I am truly perverted for admitting it.”

“Nothing you may say or do is perverted in my eyes,” Melrose replied. “So tell me in all confidence.”

“Well. I rather like being, err, restrained, and having someone take advantage of me whilst I am in a state of helplessness.”

“Is that all!” Melrose laughed softly. “I too enjoy a similar past-time. It is most exciting, is it not?”

“Oh, yes!” Charles sighed happily. “Very much so. Especially with a partner who has similar desires.”

“I have some special bindings which I reserve for the purpose in fact. Would you like to see them?”

Charles nodded, and despite himself found that he was becoming unusually aroused at the thought. He knew he had a predilection for being tied up, as many of his school friends were aware and the thought of being taken advantage of by this rather handsome man was almost too much. It crossed his mind that this indeed was the main reason why he was there, but he was also sure that the man couldn’t really hurt him, accustomed as he was to the treatment and the thought of a little pain only added to his arousal: something else he knew he wasn’t averse to.

Melrose produced four lengths of red velvet-covered cotton rope, such is used for tying back drawing room curtains and draperies.

Charles soon found himself tied face down to the four corners of the bed: not painfully so, but tightly enough to prevent him moving too much. ‘So far this is almost enjoyable’ Charles thought to himself as he tested the tautness of the restraints.

“How’s that?” Melrose said throatily.

“Very good,” Charles whispered. “I can hardly move at all. And now I am completely in your under your command.”

True to his form, Melrose showed very little compassion for his victim once he was well restrained. Having ensured once more that the ropes were suitably taut, he positioned himself between Charles splayed legs and rested his phallus on his cheeks for a moment. Then, with no warning at all, he plunged himself downwards and into Charles’ fundament in one swift movement. Prepared for the intrusion, and even as experienced as he was, Charles felt intense pain as entry was forced and he had to bite the bedclothes to stifle the involuntary shout. Eventually though, the pain subsided enough for him to force himself to try and pretend he was enjoying the brutality.

‘If this is bad for me,’ he thought, ‘it must be truly terrible for anyone unwilling and unused to it.’ And with that thought uppermost in his mind, he gritted his teeth and determined to see the plan through to completion.

The bestial treatment inflicted on the young form of Charles was relentless and unforgiving, no consideration at all being given to his thoughts or feeling, much as the animals do in the fields. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Melrose, hugely excited by his actions, orgasmed violently and with a last, painfully deep thrust deposited his offering inside Charles.

Charles, despite the pain of the ordeal, wasn’t as troubled by it as he thought he may have been once the initial transitory pain had subsided. True, it wasn’t something he would enjoy every day as he did at school, but nonetheless, it wasn’t altogether unsatisfactory. In fact, once the ordeal was over, the ropes loosened and he had regained some strength, he was as excited as ever.

“You were very pleasing,” he said to Melrose. “That is just how I like it. No one at my school can do it as well as that.”

Melrose smiled at this unexpected compliment and kissed Charles on the cheeks.

“And now it’s my turn,” Charles said, grinning lasciviously at his tormentor. “I hope you will be satisfied with me as my member isn’t as magnificent as yours, but I will do my best.”

“I am sure you will be very good,” Melrose said, still in a state of intense arousal. “Come, here are the ties. But not too tight, mind.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t like to hurt you,” Charles whispered as he expertly arranged the ropes.

Once he was sure they were secure in place, and taking great care to stay out of Melrose’s sight, Charles stepped over to the open window and signalled to a waiting Edward.

Climbing in silently, Edward grinned at Charles, stepped over to the recumbent and restrained Melrose and began to stroke his back and buttocks much as Charles would have done. Charles meanwhile dressed hurriedly and once attired he extracted a short wax candle and a small sulphur ball from his pockets, and ignited them. The now smouldering sulphur ball he placed in the fire grate and the candle between Melrose’s buttocks.

With a last satisfied look round the room, the two boys exited quickly through the window, but not before Charles stood in front of a very surprised David Melrose and wished him a cheery good bye.

It took Melrose a few seconds to realise what had happened to him, a few more to feel an intense burning around his fundament and detect a strong smell of sulphur pervading the room.

In something approaching a state of panic, he struggled to free himself, believing that unless he did so immediately, he would be burned alive. He was even more panic-stricken when the room became filled with the acrid, evil-smelling fumes and with a final, desperate heave, managed to snap the rope and free his hands. Simultaneous with his release, he heard shouts of ‘Fire! Fire!’ outside his window from what seemed like a horde of people.

Confused and bewildered, he struggled to find his clothes so hurriedly and happily disposed of not very long ago. The smoke was too much for him though, and wrapping a bedsheet around himself, leapt through the window into the street below.

“There! There! That’s the man! That’s the man what tied me up!” Melrose heard a child shout. “It’s ‘im! Look, he still ain’t got nuffink on!”

If Melrose wasn’t in a state of blind terror before, he certainly was now as he felt a dozen pair of hands grasp him and hold on firmly.

Half an hour later he was being interviewed by a very curious policeman in the local station.

“So, tell me Mr Melrose. How come you were found on the street in a state of near nakedness in the middle of the afternoon?”

“I thought my home was afire,” he mumbled, still not exactly sure of the sequence of events.

“And the reason for your nakedness?”

“I was taking a rest.”

“Quite. And now for the more interesting questions. Could you explain why a child, a male child, should scream so when he saw you? A child, I may say, who by all accounts was almost as naked as yourself. And on the floor of your bedroom where you were supposedly ‘resting’ were discovered a set of child’s underthings and several lengths of rope, some of which were still attached to your bed?”

“I have no idea. None whatsoever,” Melrose said dejectedly.

“No, I don’t suppose you have,” the policeman said, his distaste for the man in front of him now showing. “And until we have, I suggest you remain here with us. For your own protection for one thing as there are a few people waiting outside who would like to have words with you. And for another, I am not entirely happy with your replies to my questions. Perhaps the Bow Street Magistrates will have better luck.”


“So, tell me precisely what occurred,” Lord Albert said as the family gathered together in the library of the Belgravia house.

“Well, it all went precisely as we intended,” Charles said. “Well almost anyway.”

“Almost?” Albert enquired.

“I didn’t get to know Mr Melrose quite as intimately as I intended!” he laughed.

Ignoring the comment, Albert turned to Edward and asked, “I am intrigued by one thing in particular, what was that foul-smelling smoke you created?”

“Sulphur Ball. We uses ‘em to kill cockroaches and vermin in our houses. They smell wonderful, don’t they!”

“Well, whatever it was, it worked.” Lord Biggun said. “There is one more question I have though. How did you engineer Charles’ escape?”

“That was my idea,” Edward said. “We borrowed Jack’s little brother, Joe, for the afternoon. He’s only ten, but as bright as a button. I dropped some of his old underthings in Melrose’s bedroom when I was there and then got Joe to take his shirt off and scream blue murder when he saw him climb out the window. It was while he was shoutin’ and ollerin’ that Charles and me made our escape.”

“What will happen to Melrose now?” Charles asked, uncomfortably aware that David Melrose’s perversions were dangerously similar to his own.

“It’s my guess he is already on the way to Folkestone en route to Paris,” Lord Albert said. “For some reason the police couldn’t find the child that had presumably been abused, and therefore had no case. The boy seems to have disappeared completely! I also took the trouble to meet with David Melrose’s father this afternoon and explain a few things to him. He ended up being rather grateful to us for taking care of what was becoming an acute family embarrassment, and promised to remove him to Paris with all haste.”

“Well, that’s it then,” Lord Biggun said. “All’s well that ends well. Does that mean I can have my son back now?”

“Only if you insist,” Edward grinned. “I think we could become very good friends if we were allowed.”

“You are welcome to visit us anytime you wish, but for now, Charles must return to his school where they can keep some sort of eye on him.” Then, with a serious look at his son, added, “And hopefully learn that some pleasures demand a very heavy price if taken incautiously.”

Once Charles and Lord Biggun had departed, Albert and his ward were at something of a loose end, the events of the previous two days leaving them with a sense of anti-climax.

“I rather like Charles you know,” Edward said as he settled himself in Albert’s lap. “But I don’t think I could live as he does. His amusements are rather different to ours.”

“I know precisely what you mean,” Albert replied. “He can be exciting to be with, but his habits are, shall we say, a little too physical for me.”

“Me too,” Edward cooed in Albert’s ear. “I much prefer our tenderness. Talking of which isn’t it about time we ……..”

“Had a little rest? I quite agree. Shall we?”

Gently, and with loving care, Albert picked Edward up in his arms and carried him to the master bedroom.


Part 4 – Exploring

Edward was very unhappy as we parted later in the day and it was with the greatest of difficulty that he managed to stop himself from becoming emotional at the thought that we weren’t able to see each other for a few days. I, on the other hand, had mixed feelings.

Without doubt I would miss Edward sorely and it wasn’t just the lack of bedroom romps that depressed me: I had grown accustomed to his cheerful manner, his easy-going nature and quick wit. Indeed, his mere presence made me feel happy, whether he was clothed or not.

On the other hand, to offset my feeling of melancholia, there was Charles. It is impossible to be out of sorts for very long in his company: and again, it wasn’t just the thought of his naked body that cheered me up. He had an enquiring mind, was eager to learn and as far as I could ascertain was unshockable regarding matters sexual. This last point caused me concern and I had given it some considerable thought. I couldn’t decide whether Charles’ frankness and openness in things which should normally be kept very private were due to his naivety, ignorance or a precociousness beyond his years engendered by my brother: certainly the upbringing he’d had from his father was unusual. In some respects it was no bad thing to be brought up as free and easy as he was, but what sort of mind did it inculcate in the boy?

There was no simple answer and for the time being at least I decided to accept him for what he was; enjoy his companionship in as many ways as I could, and hope he enjoys it too, of which there was little doubt I thought.

I began to get some of the answers to my worries the following day. Charles appeared mid-morning, replete with overnight baggage and a cheerful countenance. He almost skipped into the house, gave Miss Primm a hug and shook my hand like a gentleman. His eyes though, told me other things. They were sparkling bright, and the slight knowing smile he gave when shaking hands confirmed my thoughts.

“And where will Master Charles be sleeping?” Miss Primm asked as we settled round the kitchen table. “Does he still need his relations at night?”

Before I could answer, Charles informed my housekeeper that he was still rather nervous at night times and would prefer it if he would be permitted to sleep in my room as he did before.

“If his Lordship agrees then, I will make up the truckle bed for you instantly. May I take your baggage?”

“Yes, please Miss Primm,” Charles replied. “And may I take a bath? I feel quite unclean after the coach journey.”

Half an hour later, Miss Primm re-appeared to inform us that the bath was prepared. She also handed Charles a medium-sized carrot.

“I think this somehow got placed in your travelling bag in error Master Charles,” she said, placing the offending item on the table.

Without flinching in the slightest, Charles picked the vegetable up, looked directly at me and said, “Oh no, Miss Primm. I placed it there to remind me that I must eat all my vegetables at meal times. My mother has remonstrated with me that I don’t eat enough of them.”

“That is quite correct, young sir. Vegetables give you a sturdy and strong body. And your bath is awaiting when you are ready.”

“Will you supervise, Uncle?” Charles said, getting to his feet. “I still need to be checked that I have cleaned myself properly.”

“If you insist, but aren’t you getting a little old for that?” Albert said, mainly for Miss Primm’s benefit, as they left the kitchen.

“Not yet apparently,” Charles said, ascending the stairs in front of Albert. “Father still insists.”

Once in the bath room, Charles closed the door and hugged his uncle warmly, raising his head and searching for a kiss. “I’m pleased to see you again,” he whispered.

“And so am I,” Albert replied, his resolve to take things slowly vanishing as their lips met.

Charles stood in the centre of the floor, hands by his side, waiting for Albert to undress him.

“Can’t even you do that for yourself?” Albert smiled.

“Of course, but it’s more exciting when you do it.”

“What happens at home then?”

“I have to attend to myself as I dislike the maid undressing me. My father appears to have lost interest in checking my development, he doesn’t even look at me after I’ve bathed anymore unless I am spending the night with him, which happens infrequently these days.”

“I understand from your letters that you see less of him nowadays. What do you think of about that?” Albert asked as he set to work on the numerous buttons.

“I miss it terribly. I had become so accustomed to his ministrations and being with him that I find it difficult to sleep.”

“And he doesn’t, err, check on your, err, production any longer?”

“No, sir. And that is what I miss the most. As I intimated in my letter, I have to arrange secret assignations with Symes in order that I may be relieved. It isn’t altogether satisfactory but it is the best I can do. That is why I am so pleased to be here with you once again. I am sure my testicles are bluer than ever they were.”

Albert smiled at the now naked youngster in front of him and watched, fascinated, as his member slowly uprighted itself. He was wrong in one respect; his testicles were a delightful pink colour.

“Come along then,” Albert said reluctantly. “Step into the bath.”

“But you haven’t checked me yet. That needs doing first.”

There was that grin again, and the look that spoke volumes.

Taking Charles’ now fully erected member in his hand, he examined it carefully and closely.

“I am sure it has grown slightly since the last time I checked it for you,” Albert said throatily.

“I too think that,” Charles whispered. “I think it is becoming quite handsome, although perhaps I shouldn’t say that.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t,” Albert grinned. “But it is true nevertheless. It is truly handsome.”

“Will you take it in your mouth for me?” Charles asked quietly. “I don’t think it is too unclean for that, and I have missed it so.”

“I thought your friend Symes obliged you,” Lord Batchelor said as he pulled the boy to him.

“He isn’t a friend,” Charles said quite firmly. “He is a farmhand and does it because I ask him to. I don’t think he likes it very much because he always hurries so, even though I pleasure him in return. In any case, he isn’t as good as you.”

Albert willingly demonstrated his superiority over Symes, and fed Charles’ adolescent member into his mouth. The lessons he’d had from Edward were evidently worthwhile as within a few minutes, Charles was groaning and moaning in a most satisfactory manner, even to the extent that he picked up a bath towel to stifle the noises he was making. It was when Albert succeeded in letting Charles’ penetrate his throat that he realised just how much he’d learned without realising it, and he felt his nephew ejaculate his fluids.

The orgasm was so sudden and enervating that Batchelor had to hold on to Charles quite tightly to prevent him falling. Resting the boy on his knees, he grinned at him.

“That was satisfactory, I trust?”

“Oh, my goodness,” Charles said. “I didn’t expect that. You have become better, I believe.”

“I think that fact that you were anxious for some relief has a lot to do with it,” Albert said, not wishing to travel down the particular road Charles was venturing along. “But now you simply must take your bath before the water cools.”

The bath was nominal, and even the inspection following was omitted, to be replaced by a few minutes kissing and caressing instead.

“Is it possible for us to retire to the bedroom?” Charles pleaded in Albert’s ear.

“For you, perhaps. You may be tired after your journey, but Miss Primm will be seriously concerned if I join you.”

Charles’ face fell, his disappointment showing as it can on a 13 year old boy.

“How long before she takes her rest? Perhaps ……?”

“I don’t know, she has a few extra things to do today. If you feel like having a rest, then by all means do so. I will try and join you later if I am able.”

“I am not especially tired, but I think I will have a rest anyway in the hope you will join me as soon as you are free.”

Wrapping a bath robe around the lad, Lord Albert accompanied him into the bedroom and watched as he climbed into the double bed, ignoring his own smaller one which Miss Primm had prepared. He made no comment on this, and neither did he ask why he remained unclothed. For an instant he thought of joining him, the boy’s not-so-innocent smile and nakedness under the bed covers having its intended effect on him. With a grim smile, he turned his back on the satyr and closed the door quietly behind him.

“Master Charles is taking a rest,” he informed Miss Primm, “The boy seems to be exhausted by his journey.”

“I expect the warm bath made him so. And if I may venture an opinion, sir, I think he looked a little flushed and over-excited when he arrived. No doubt the perspective of spending a few days in your companionship has stimulated him.”


When Albert eventually managed to escape to his bedroom, he wasn’t at all surprised to see Charles curled up fast asleep in the centre of his bed. He was still entranced by the sheer beauty of the child and so took the opportunity of gazing at him admiringly. ‘I am indeed fortunate’, he mused to himself, ‘to have such a delectable and obliging nephew’. Slowly he removed his clothes and before joining Charles, stood for a few more moments relishing the adventure he was about to embark upon, his excited member throbbing in anticipation.

As gently as he could, he slid in behind the sleeping form and folded himself around it.

Charles, sensing his presence, turned over and embraced his uncle, pressing his body closely against him. A faint smile creased his face as he made himself comfortable and without wakening placed his tumescent member comfortably between them.

When Charles stirred himself to wakefulness he was thrilled to discover his uncle laying alongside him and even more delighted to feel his welcome nakedness. Manoeuvring a hand between their recumbent bodies he took Albert’s virility in his hand, sighing as he grasped it gently. Albert stroked the boy’s hair and looked into his eyes, sharing for a moment or two the elation they felt.

“Let us stay here for the remainder of the day,” Charles whispered. “I have missed you greatly.”

Albert was about to reply when Charles reached up and placed a delicate, tender kiss on his lips and whispered, “Just hold me as you are. It’s been so long since anyone did so that I’d almost forgotten how comforting it feels.”

Lord Batchelor, more than willing to do as he’d been asked, gave the child a hug and returned the kiss.

“Are we going out and about whilst I am here?” Charles asked lazily. “I would like to stay as we are now as much as possible, but I know that we must make some effort to entertain ourselves in other ways.”

“Where would you like to go?” Albert asked, feeling very much as the boy did.

“Nowhere too educational,” he grinned. “I feel I receive enough tutoring at home. Let us just walk and take pleasure in each other’s company. I think I would like that best.”

“So be it. We could explore the parks and riverside whilst the weather is clement, perhaps even take a rowing boat out on the Serpentine for a while.”

“Can you row?” Charles asked, his eyes lighting up. “I have a small rowing boat on the lake at home, but no one is able to show me how to manage it.”

“I used to row a little when I was up at Oxford,” Lord Batchelor said. “Nothing serious, but I was capable enough.”

In fact Lord Batchelor had been a good oarsman and could easily have made the University Rowing Eight but there were a couple of members of the club he found peculiarly attractive and he couldn’t help but become aroused every time they met. Thus, to avoid any embarrassment on either side, he opted not to pursue that particular past-time and took to horse riding instead. This still gave him erections he remembered happily, but they were far less public but nonetheless enjoyable.

His erotic reverie was brought to an abrupt end as he watched Charles’ head disappear under the bedclothes and find its way into his groin.

Ten minutes later the lad re-surfaced, his face suffused with pleasure.

“Now we can go out,” he said, laughing lightly. “We have both been relieved and are in need of some other form of exercise.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do for you first?” Albert asked, running a suggestive finger up and down Charles’ still stiff penis.

“If I try to produce again so soon after I’ve done it,”Charles said, “It is a little painful and I can’t always make anything.” Then added with a devilish grin, “But it is not an unpleasant sensation. Perhaps you might like to try for me?”

He was right, he couldn’t eject anything other than a slight dribble, but the enjoyment was just as intense as his guttural moans testified.

“Now we are ready!” Charles said, sliding out of bed.

Before too long they were strolling through Hyde Park towards the Serpentine, chatting away gaily about nothing in particular and enjoying the mid-afternoon sun. As they rounded a corner, Albert first heard, then saw, what he assumed were the same boys he’d noticed previously. Charles saw them too and came to a halt, staring at them.

“My goodness gracious!” he muttered in surprise.

“Shall we stop and watch for a few minutes?” Albert asked.

In reply Charles sat on the grass, brought his knees up to his chest and stared in disbelief.

Albert’s eyes were torn between watching the water sprites and Charles’ face, both of which were equally delightful.

“Those swimming costumes are a little revealing,” Charles whispered. “I can see the shape of their, err, parts, through them.”

“Can you? I hadn’t noticed,” Lord Batchelor replied innocently.

Charles turned to look at his uncle and grinned. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

“I may have been,” Albert smiled back. “The wildlife here is rather interesting, don’t you think.”

Charles edged closer to Albert and whispered, “I am sure the boy in the red woollen costume has a stiffening.”

It was the same boy that Batchelor saw before, and he looked around for his friend. Sure enough, there he was, not too far away and paddling toward his comrade.

“Watch the one in the white under-drawers,” Albert said quietly.

As the two boys neared each other, a faint smile broke across Charles’ face as he anticipated the next move. The urchins were now facing one another, looking down at themselves, grinning. Two pairs of hands slid under the water and reached out, changing the grins to broad smiles for a few magical seconds before they parted.

“Shall we walk on?” Albert said, beginning to stand.

“I don’t think I can just yet,” Charles said, blushing.

Albert laughed, enjoying the boys discomfiture. Leaning over, he whispered in his ear, “Which one takes your fancy then?”

The blush deepened as Charles realised he’d been caught out, but soon recovered his composure as he saw the smile on Albert’s face.

“None of them. Or all of them,” he giggled. “And yourself?”

“The fair-haired one in black. He reminds me a little of you. Quite delectable and what seems to be a healthy appendage within his drawers.”

“You are trying to arouse me, Uncle Albert,” the lad said in mock anger, “And that won’t do!”

“And are you?”

“I may be, just a little.”

Feeling a little skittish, Albert decided to take advantage of the boy’s arousal and goad him into revealing further insights into his mind.

“Do you find the same thing happens when you see the female of our species, Charles, or are your inclinations otherwise? You may tell me to mind my own business if you like, I am just interested in how you feel, that is all.”

Charles thought for a few moments, staring intently at the grass between his feet.

“May I talk to you in confidence?” he said quietly “I have something on my mind which has been bothering me for a while now.”

“Whatever transpires between us is our secret,” Albert answered. “I thought you knew that.”

“Of course. But this is different and I find it hard to talk about.”

“Do you want to talk now, or shall we postpone our discussion until we are at home?”

“Now, if you don’t mind, Uncle Albert. I don’t think I could raise the topic again.”

“Very well. What is it?”

Charles chewed on his bottom lip as he thought how to put his difficulty into words.

“I am fourteen years old in a month and find that I have very little interest in the opposite sex, unlike other boys of my age. Even when I was in bed and the maid offered to, err, introduce me, I wasn’t interested and my very member softened at the idea. Surely, that isn’t how I should feel?”

“You are what you are,” Albert replied. “You are still young yet, and such problems as that are to be expected. Not all boys develop at the same rate, and I am sure that your interest in the opposite sex will develop before you know it.”

“But I don’t want it to, I don’t think. If I may be honest, I prefer a good-looking boy to a maid, no matter how fair. They make me feel better inside if you understand me.”

“I do. Perfectly,” Lord Batchelor replied.

“My father likes both,” he said. “He has the maid at home, as well as my mother. He also has myself and the boy he engages when staying at his club. Perhaps I shall grow up to be like him.”

Albert was shocked at the news the boy knew about Edward.

“How do you know your father entertains boys at his club? Surely you are mistaken.”

“No, I am sure. Some time ago, I returned to the club early from my walk as the weather was inclement. The concierge failed to recognise me and asked for whom I was looking. When I told him that I wanted Lord Biggun, he took me to his room and when I entered, I saw a boy just a little older than myself naked in his bed.”

“And didn’t that shock you?” Albert said, looking at the boy. “What did you think?”

“I was shocked for a moment, but only because I didn’t expect to see anyone there at all. When I gathered myself together I wasn’t at all put out, after all he and I, well, you know, share our bed anyway.”

“What did your father say?”

“Not very much. He explained that once in a while he liked to enjoy himself with someone different and that I shouldn’t concern myself with it, only that I mustn’t tell anyone about it.”

Albert paused for a moment, thinking how much alike in many ways his brother and nephew were, and himself too for that matter.

“I think your father was correct, it is of no concern of ours and should remain so. After all, we ourselves occupy our time with similar activities which are better left between ourselves.”

“But you and I are relatives, and that is different. We somehow fit together and I believe we both have similar tastes.”

“And your father? You and I are fortunate in that we have each other; my brother has no one except you, and you are his son. He has needs which must be met, just as, dare I say it, yourself and Symes have.”

This cast a new light on the way Charles thought, and he looked pensively at the boys in the water as he adjusted his thinking.

“I don’t think I will ever get married,” he said. “It must be awfully complicated if you like both men and women, or just the men. You never married, did you? ” Charles added significantly.

“No, I didn’t. Like you, I felt that it would be unfair to inflict my inclinations on whomever I chose to marry and so elected to remain free. A true bachelor!” he laughed.

“But what did you do about your, err, ‘feelings’ when you were younger? You never indulged them?”

Albert took a deep breath, and decided to change the subject, but then thought again and went on, “For many years I have made a great effort to ignore carnal thoughts, and lead a truly celibate life.”

“But no longer,” Charles put in. “Why, may I ask?”

“Because you came along and showed me a new, refreshing way of life: one which I have denied myself for far too long, and without good reason.”

“Me?” Charles stuttered in amazement. “How?”

Lord Batchelor went on to explain his thoughts about the first time he saw Charles, about his apparent immodesty with his own body, and his unfettered determination to enjoy it.

“But there is nothing unusual or peculiar in what I do, either with yourself or my father,” he said, puzzled.

“Oh, yes there is,” Albert said. “The activities our family indulges in are most unusual, believe me. I doubt there are one in a hundred, or a thousand, that have the same habits.”

This caused Charles to stop short, the information being somewhat of a revelation.

“Oh, I didn’t appreciate that. So they are to be deprecated, then?”

“No. Perhaps. I don’t really know,” Albert said. “No harm is done to anyone, in fact I believe it may be a good thing in some ways as we are all much more at ease with each other. It also stops us venturing outside the fold if you see what I mean.”

“And shall we indulge ourselves tonight?” Charles grinned, deciding that he’d had enough of this complicated conversation. “Our discussion has got me quite excited and I would like to continue it in more congenial surroundings if you agree.”

“You are a rogue, young Charles,” Albert laughed. “But a likeable one. I think your suggestion an admirable one. We shall we postpone our debate until a more suitable time.”

“Thank you my Lord, I look forward to it,” Charles laughed in return. Leaning over to his uncle, he kissed him chastely on both cheeks, not missing the opportunity to brush his turgid member against his thigh.


Dinner that evening was light-hearted and the conversation flowed easily, even Miss Primm managing to join in once in a while despite her natural reserve.

“I have prepared several dishes of vegetables for you,” she said addressing Charles. “I hope you will partake of them all.”

“I don’t think I will be able to manage them all,” Charles joked. “Just a mouthful of each will be sufficient.”

In return he received an indulgent smile from her as she served him with a plate of roast duck.

“I don’t believe young men should eat too much red meat,” she said. “It makes them too excited in ways you wouldn’t compromise at your age. Plenty of vegetables is what you need to build up your muscles. And I have made a Spotted Dick for dessert, with fresh custard.”

“What’s ‘Spotted Dick’? I don’t think I’ve heard of that.” Charles lied, only just managing to suppress a giggle.

“Bless me!” Miss Primm said, rising to the bait. “Never heard of Spotted Dick? It’s the finest dessert a boy could have. Made from suet and flour, with butter, currants and raisins. Very sweet and filling it is. Both your father and Lord Batchelor adored it when they were little boys.”

“Oh, right. I believe we call it Suet Pudding at home. My father loves it still, and I am learning to appreciate it.”

Miss Primm sat back with a self-satisfied smile, convinced that she still knew the way to a boys heart.

Albert and Charles were still in a joyful mood as they retired for the night some while later. Both had had a good day: Charles because he was with his uncle, and Albert because he was with his nephew. They undressed hurriedly, each watching the other as they divested themselves, clothes being dropped where they stood. With no embarrassment at all, they hugged each other warmly and kissed tenderly before getting into bed.

At Charles suggestion, Albert sat up in the bed, his back resting against the wall whilst Charles sat between his splayed legs, leaning back on his uncle’s chest, allowing him free access to his groin.

“I don’t think there is a better feeling in the whole world than this,” Charles sighed as Albert slowly stroked his very erect member. I don’t care what others may think, I am perfectly content.”

Albert leaned down and kissed the top of his nephew’s head and agreed with his sentiments entirely. Using his free hand, he gently rubbed Charles’ nipples, earning more sighs and giggles from a very aroused young man.

Twisting himself over, Charles faced Albert and kissed him deeply, his tongue being welcomed in the man’s mouth. Automatically, the young lad started to thrust himself into Albert’s groin, their penises rubbing against one another. Lord Batchelor allowed this to continue for a few minutes before he felt the thrustings become more desperate and urgent. Grasping the boy tightly, he stopped him.

“Wait,” he whispered. “You are being too hasty. Take your time, we have all night.”

Charles’ face was glowing red with excitement as he looked up at his relative, disappointed that he’d been stopped just as things were about to happen.

“Please?” he begged. “Let me finish, I am so much in need. And then we can take our time.”

Albert smiled, pecked at his lips and released him.

Wrapping his arms around Albert’s neck and putting their lips together, he raised and lowered his loins once again, moaning deeply as his emotions took charge.

As expected, he didn’t last very long. The orgasm struck Charles hard: his slim frame stiffened, his back arched and with an almost feral groan, ejected his seed between them, Albert feeling every spasm.

Grinning sheepishly, Charles rested his head on Lord Batchelor’s chest as he gathered himself together.

“Thank you, Uncle Albert,” he said quietly. “I was in great need of relief. I feel better now.”

He did, too. With a reserve of energy that Albert envied, Charles was soon wriggling and writhing all over him: hands, lips and tongue covering him wherever he could reach. Not for a second did his excitement falter, his membrum adulescens not softening once.

“The lad must surely have been deprived considerably,” Albert thought as he submitted to the onslaught happily and allowing his member to be taken orally.

He wasn’t allowed to reach his climax though, as even Charles’ passions were eventually satiated, and still smiling he relaxed into the arms of his uncle, his eyes fixed on Albert’s now glistening erection.

Charles wrapped his fingers around it and commented, “I’m not sure if the carrot was large enough!”

In their haste and passion, Albert had quite forgotten the agreement made at their last meeting and said so. Having gained some not inconsiderable experience with Edward, he knew just how difficult and painful such an exercise could be and wanted to make certain that Charles knew what was involved.

“But I have been working so hard towards it,” the lad said, disappointment showing in his voice. “At least let us try, and then I can return the favour!” he added, the smile returning.

Batchelor took very little convincing and asked how he should position himself.

“I will lay on my left side, with my legs drawn up to my chest. That is how I’ve been practising at home. If you lay behind me, you should be able to insert yourself readily.”

After three unsuccessful attempts, Albert was about to give up and Charles was almost in tears with frustration when the lubrication was remembered. Reaching into the bedside cabinet, he took out the small jar of petroleum jelly and covered both of them liberally with it.

Such was Charles’ state of mind that he quite failed to enquire from whence Albert had learned this trick: all he was concerned about was that he should be entered as soon as possible.

And this was now achieved. With only the gentlest of pressure, the crown of Albert’s penis entered the forbidden place. Pausing for a moment, he said, “How is it? Shall I remove it?”

“No! No!” Charles gasped. “There was only an instant’s pain and that has gone. It feels wonderful. Try to insert it all.”

As gently as he could, Albert pressed himself inwards and watched as his member disappeared inside his most beloved nephew.

“There!” he whispered after a while. “Now you have all of me.”

“Mmmmmm!” was all Charles could manage. “I can feel it’s immenseness.”

Albert began to work on the boy, withdrawing and re-inserting as smoothly as he could, each motion being made to the sound of Charles’ cooing and sighing.

“Don’t. Go. All. The. Way.” Charles gasped between thrusts. “I. Want. To. Try. Something Else.”

Curious, Albert stopped his movement and withdrew.

Charles turned onto his back, raised his legs in the air and instructed Albert to put himself back where he was.

There were no grimaces now. Charles grinned almost insanely as his uncle did as he was asked, the organ slipping in with no difficulty at all.

“That’s better,” Charles giggled. “Now I can look at you as well.”

Albert forced himself to keep a very slow pace, not only to delay his own orgasm for as long as possible, but also to pleasure Charles’ for as long as he could. And pleasured he was if the bucking and writhing was anything to judge things by. Albert felt a pair of legs being clamped behind him, urging him to greater efforts and deeper penetration.

The dam must break at some point though, and Albert, losing all self-control, thrust into Charles’ one last time and deposited his offering majestically and noisily.

The two perspiring bodies clung to each other, breathing rapidly.

“I adore you, Uncle Albert,” Charles said between breaths, not having the strength to hug or even kiss him. “It felt even better than I imagined and not at all painful. It was truly astonishing.”

Not unnaturally the duo dozed for a while, hands on each other’s members and dreaming blissfully. They didn’t rest for long though: Charles was in such an excited mood that he soon opened his eyes and gazed lovingly at Albert, reminding himself that the exquisite tenderness he felt in his fundament, and the ache in his heart were both due to him. Adoringly, he kissed both Lord Batchelor’s eyes and then his lips.

“I wish I could live here for ever,” he whispered as Albert awoke.

Smiling, Albert hugged the boy and said, “I don’t think either of us would survive for very long if you did!”

“But we would meet our Maker happily,” he grinned. “By the way, what was that salve you used? It certainly made things easier.”

“Petroleum jelly from the Medicine Chest,” Albert replied.

“How did you learn about that? I wish I’d know about it when I was using the vegetables!”

“From a friend of mine whose advice I sought. But don’t ask any more as was in the strictest confidence.”

“You mean, you asked how you could, how you ….,?” Charles was lost for words.

“Not in so many words, but the conversation was rather interesting as you may imagine,” Albert grinned.

“And you did that for me? Discussed, well, you-know-what? It must have been embarrassing.”

“Not at all, he is a very understanding friend. And yes, I did it for you. You are worthy of it, and very deserving. I trust you were satisfied with the outcome?”

That devilish grin appeared again as Charles said, “Yes, thank you. I was very satisfied, but believe that the exercise needs to be repeated frequently. Talking of which, ….”

A hand was placed suggestively on Albert’s rump.

“…… I believe it is my turn.”

“You are becoming an insatiable monster,” Batchelor laughed. “I fear I may come to regret ever having allowed you into my house, let alone my bed!”

“Rubbish! You know you enjoy my company almost as much as I relish yours! We are becoming as alike as two peas in a pod. Now hand me that petroleum stuff and arrange yourself.”

‘There is nothing quite so gratifying as being taken like this’, Albert mused as he watched Charles insert himself. ‘Nothing in the World,’ he added, echoing his nephew’s sentiments.


“Did Master Charles have a disturbed night?” Miss Primm asked at breakfast the following morning. “I thought I heard him cry out several times in the early hours.”

Charles and Albert looked at each other, shock registering on their faces at the thought that they had been discovered. Luckily the housekeeper’s back was to them as she prepared their scrambled eggs.

“Err, yes, he did,” Lord Batchelor replied hastily. “He had a bad dream which distressed him rather.”

“What do you conjecture about in your nightmares, Master Charles, if I might make so bold as to inquire?”

“I dream I am all alone in the world and have no one to care for me.” Charles said convincingly.

“You know that isn’t true of course. You have a loving mother and father, and an uncle who is demoted to you. Perhaps you are nervous of losing them.”

“That is so,” Miss Primm. “I would be devastated if I lost any of them, especially Uncle Albert who takes such good care of me.”

“I know he does, he thinks of you a great deal and loves you like his own son.”

“That is true. In fact I almost took myself into his bed last night, I was so afraid. But that wouldn’t be quite proper.”

“Why bless me!” Miss Primm said. “Lord Batchelor is your uncle and if you are frightened in the dark, I think it only right that he should comfort you in your hour of need. There is nothing improper about that. Why, I even took him to my own bed when he was little and out of sorts.”

The mental picture of Lord Batchelor sharing a bed with Miss Primm was almost too much for either of them, and it was with considerable difficulty that Charles managed to continue the conversation.

“Why, thank you Miss Primm. You make me feel better. If it should occur again, I shall certainly remember what you said. I may even sleep in his bed if that is acceptable to him.”

“Of course,” Lord Batchelor stammered out. “If ever you feel in need of comfort, I would be disappointed if you didn’t come to me.”

“There you are,” Miss Primm smiled. “I told you he was the very epitome of kindness. He will offer all the succour you need, I am sure.”

Lord Batchelor brought the rather disturbing conversation to an end, unsure as to how far Charles would goad Miss Primm.

“Come, nephew,” he said brightly. “We will take a refreshing walk along the Embankment whilst Miss Primm goes about her duties.”

As they strolled along the riverside at complete peace with the world, the pair indulged in polite, familiar conversation.

“Don’t you usually visit my father at his club when he is in town?” Charles asked idly.

“Not always,” Lord Batchelor answered. “Only if we need to see each other, and as he wrote to me only last week, there is no need. In any case, I would much rather be in your company than his.”

The real reason, of course was that he didn’t want to risk running into Edward, or become involved in discussions with his brother about Charles’ doings.

There was a slight pause in the conversation which caused Albert to look at Charles who was staring pensively at the river.

“Uncle Albert, what’s a catamite?”

The boy had an unfailing ability to ask the most simple, yet heart-stopping questions Albert thought, not for the first time. He was sure that the lad knew the answer, but he was intelligent and there was sure to be something important behind the query.

“Comes from Ganymede, the Trojan prince who became cup-bearer to Zeus.”

“I know that, silly. My father belongs to the Ganymede Club. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“A catamite is a boy who receives recompense for serving his master in ways I think you are aware of, and not spoken of in polite company,” he added warningly.

“Like the boys who visit my father when he is in town?”

“Yes, probably.”

“I thought so. It seems wrong to me that one should expect payment for an activity which is enjoyable to both parties.”

“It is the only way some of the poorer boys can earn money to live on,” Albert went on. “They don’t always do it out of choice.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. It is still very enjoyable though, isn’t it?” he grinned, enjoying Albert’s discomfiture.

“Enough!” Albert said, smiling. “You are being impish and devious. What is it you want to know?”

“May we sit for a while? I can think better when sitting down.”

They sat together on a convenient bench and watched the passers-by hurrying along, ignoring the handsome pair deep in conversation.

“My mother and father have disagreements quite often these days and they are most fearful at times.”

“What about?” Albert asked, now quite concerned.

“I don’t really know as I am always ushered away when they start, but they are to do with the maid and the boys he meets at his club, I believe.”

“I see,” Albert replied, although he hadn’t the faintest idea where the conversation was leading.

“My father never visits my mother at night nowadays, but he accepts the maid into his bed regularly. Perhaps that is the cause of their disharmony.”

“Perhaps. Does that cause you worry?”

“Oh, not in the slightest. That is their concern, but I overheard my mother accusing father of preferring his catamites to her and I wanted to make sure that I understood her meaning correctly.”

“I see. Do you think that is true?”

“No, not really. After all, he frolics with the maid often enough, and he only sees the other boys when he is in London. I believe he is like the men you told me of yesterday, those that enjoy the company of both, what I think is called a ‘libertarian’. ”

“Women are made differently,” Albert said slowly, picking his words carefully. “They expect total loyalty and devotion from their men. We are different in that respect and need a little, shall we say, variety, in our lives sometimes. And that is certain to cause the disharmony you talk of. Now perhaps you begin to understand why I prefer to remain unattached.”

“I am becoming more convinced that I think as you,” Charles said. “The sort of activities which father gets up to with the maid, and there have been others I believe, do not excite me as they perhaps should. I far prefer to think of yourself in that respect; you can cause more exciting things to happen to me if you understand. Even Symes can arouse me when I am in the mood,” he grinned.

“Time is the only answer to that problem, I’m afraid. But in the meanwhile I would continue to enjoy yourself as you are. Always taking great care of course, that no one learns of your thoughts, or more importantly, your deeds.”

“I’m pleased you understand so well,” Charles grinned. “And now, will you make me your catamite and buy me an ice cream?”

“I will not buy an ice cream under those conditions, but I will get you one for being such a good, honest and handsome young man who takes great pains to tend to his aged uncle’s needs!”

With a glint in his eyes that told Albert exactly what he was thinking, the youngster licked and sucked on the ice cream deliciously as they headed for Hyde Park and the Serpentine.

The first hour was spent teaching Charles the rudiments of rowing, much to their amusement. Charles found the oars heavy, cumbersome and totally unmanageable in his hands and on more than one occasion almost upset them into the water. Giving it up as an impossible task at least until he had a few more muscles, he stowed the oars and allowed themselves to drift, relaxing in the sun’s warmth.

“I do believe you are becoming quite the voyeur,” Albert said.

“How so, uncle?” Charles replied innocently.

“Behind me, where you are so assiduously staring. I think that the boys are a-swimming again.”

“Are they? I hadn’t noticed,” Charles laughed. “But now you mention it, there are several of them in the water not very far away.”

Turning the boat round slightly so they could both observe the boys, Charles leaned across to Albert and whispered, “The boy in the red costume has the most remarkable appendage.”

Albert sought him out and agreed that the lad had a bulge which was unusually large for one of his age.

“Perhaps he will show it to you, if you ask,” Albert said teasingly. “I’m sure he must be proud of it.”

Charles laughed and replied that he wouldn’t mind seeing it, but certainly wasn’t going to ask just in case it was larger than his own member, as it probably was. Sensing that this was a point that seemed to worry Charles, he pursued the matter.

“Have you seen many others?” Albert asked curiously. “When I was your age, I’d seen a great number, being at a boarding school.”

“No, very few. The only ones I have seen are those of the Vicar’s son and the Doctor’s son, with whom I have lessons. And yours and father’s of course!” he giggled. “Oh, and Symes as well. I must admit that I am intrigued by their variety and size.”

Lord Batchelor suddenly had a wicked and evil idea which he thought might amuse his charge.

“Would you like to see a few, to increase your knowledge?” he asked, grinning. “In perfectly innocent surroundings of course.”

“Are there such places? How? Where?” Charles said, the excitement showing on his face. Then, realising how he’d given himself away, blushed and looked down. “Only out of academic interest of course,” he smiled.

“It may be possible,” Lord Batchelor said. “I am not sure as to the exact rules of the establishment.”

“What establishment? Where?”

“Let that be a surprise for you. Let’s return the boat and go to enquire.”

On the way to the Ottoman Turkish Baths, Albert explained the principles of their operation and what benefits they offered in terms of bodily health.

“And will I have to get naked too?” Charles said, aghast at the idea. “In front of all those people?”

“Not necessarily,” Albert said. “Some of the people retain their drawers for decency’s sake. I haven’t seen anyone as young as yourself there, and if you are permitted entry, I am sure they will permit you to retain yours.”

A few words with the manager informed them that Charles would not normally be allowed access, “But as we are not very busy just at present, the boy could be admitted for a while, but he must cover himself appropriately at all times.” If the truth be known, it wasn’t the first time such a request had been made and he always acceded to them, knowing the presence of such handsome boys as Charles could do nothing but increase the custom of his establishment.

It was a good thing that Charles had to kept his under-things on, Albert thought as they undressed, the boy is excited enough to create more than one attack of apoplexy if his rather prominent member were to be on public display.

In view of his nephew’s lack of years and experience, Albert avoided the hottest room and guided Charles to the cooler one. The boy was struck dumb: he’d never seen so many naked forms in one place before, and in such a variety of shapes and sizes too. There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but wisely chose not to voice them at that moment in time. Instead, he stared around in astonishment, uncomfortably aware of the ache between his legs, thankfully hidden from view.

Both he and Lord Batchelor noticed that they were the beneficiaries of surreptitious glances as they relaxed, some admiring and no doubt envious, others not. Being Charles first visit, and unsure as to how far his presence had affected the mood of the regular users, they didn’t stay too long and after taking a quick bathe, they dried off and were making to leave the establishment when Lord Batchelor was taken on one side by the manager who had a few words with him.

“That was most interesting and instructive, Uncle Albert,” Charles said as they made their way home. “Thank you.”

“Did you appreciate it?” Albert asked. “You observed what you wanted to observe?”

“Oh, yes. Most informative. There is one question uppermost in my mind though.”


“How do they manage not to show any, err, excitement, in such surroundings? I am sure I couldn’t avoid it.”

“That’s because you and I are different to most of the men in there. We perhaps enjoy the sight of the male form more than they do.”

Charles giggled at this euphemism and went on to ask, “Why did the manager wish to speak with you afterwards? Did we do something wrong?”

“He did have several clients make comments to him, I must admit,” Albert said seriously, “Expressing their surprise at seeing one so young on the premises.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Are you able to return? They haven’t banished you, have they?”

“On the contrary, we have been invited back whenever we wish. The manager intimated that if you were to attend every day, his business would double!”

“I am not at all comfortable with that,” Charles said. “I received a lot of looks which I found quite disturbing, sort of too familiar if you see what I mean.”

“Perfectly. As I keep reminding you, you have a very attractive body, one which many men would, ……. well, let’s not take it any further. You comprehend what I mean?”

“I think so. I find it quite disgusting that one should think that way about someone one doesn’t even know. And in any case, I wouldn’t contemplate any physical contact with them, the mere idea is quite revolting.”

“I’m glad to hear it. That was part of the reason I took you there. Not all men are gentlemen, as you will discover. There is a difference between adoration and lust which is not always apparent, hence the need for catamites and their ilk.”

“Why is it that I find conversations with you so, so, confusing at times?” he grinned. “I am content with the way I am, and with the things I do, but you always complicate them!” he laughed.

“I’m only trying to help!” Lord Batchelor laughed back. “What we share, I hope, is adoration and affection. What you and Symes share, dare I say, is simply lust, with no affection.”

“You are correct there,” Charles replied. “Symes and I share no affection, it’s just that sometimes he or I need to obtain some relief from our feelings.”

“Exactly. Now, shall we change to something of a lighter topic? And I promise not to try and complicate things too much.”

“Thank you, Uncle Albert, I am truly grateful. Now, are we going to rest this afternoon, and am I sleeping in your bed tonight?”

“Yes to both. “Albert said. “Was that simple enough for you?”

Charles grinned happily and put an arm round his uncle’s waist. “I adore you Uncle Albert. Mixed with just a little bit of lust as well perhaps!”


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