12th March 2005: The first chapter of an incomplete story based on a strong premise (one I intend to return to at some point) but which didn’t get a warm reception and so I didn’t have the motivation to continue.

Freaking Out Mr Pierce

About ten years ago, when I was still at boarding school, a group of us lads were caught getting pissed one Saturday evening. We’d smuggled three or four bottles of vodka into one guy’s room and were having a pretty good time downing as much of it as we could in the small hours after lights-out – having a pretty good time, that is, until our housemaster, Mr Johnson, barged in on us in his dressing gown.

Our punishment was to lose our single rooms for a week. Now, if you went to boarding school, you’ll know that the privacy afforded by a single room is highly sought-after, and its loss – even if only temporary – is quite an effective deterrent against misbehaviour. In our case the blow was multiplied by the fact that we weren’t being transferred into double or triple rooms, as usually happened, but that we had to spend a week in one of the old dormitories which the most junior boys used to occupy.

The dormitory we were put in was awaiting conversion into smaller rooms, as making large groups of boys share rooms was, even by then, starting to be seen as unacceptable. It was in a pretty bad state: paint was peeling from some of the walls; the desks were dilapidated and carved with people’s names; and a couple of the windows were cracked with brown parcel tape holding them together.

It was difficult to imagine that, in its time, the dorm had housed eight eleven- and twelve-year-old boys, as just the six of us seventeen-year-olds filled it to bursting. There was barely enough room for the beds and furniture: floor-space had been seen, evidently, as something of an unnecessary luxury. We literally couldn’t move without climbing over each other’s stuff or having to ask each other to get out of the way.

Mr Johnson had smirked when he saw how cramped we were in the dormitory and how uncomfortable the week was going to be for us.

I remember that one of the other lads being punished, a mouthy guy called Dobby, had argued with him that being holed up together as we were was unfair: “Normally we have to share with a third or fourth form guy for a week if we get caught drinking… no-one’s ever had to do this…”

Johnson had shrugged. “There are just two rooms with spare beds in them, guys. You know that…”

“So two of us can go into those. At least there’d be a bit more space in here,” Dobby had suggested.

Johnson shook his head. “So then I’d have four of you complaining that I don’t punish fairly…?”

My mate Simon had said, “We wouldn’t. We could draw straws or something…”

Johnson had smirked again. “You’re staying here, guys. End of discussion. You were all caught doing the same thing, so you all get the same deal now…”

Dobby had tried again. “But we can’t move without climbing all over each other…”

Johnson chuckled, “Well then it looks like you guys are going to have to get used to being intimate around each other for the next seven days…”

Dobby turned to look at Adam, his best mate, with a look of angry exasperation. Adam shrugged and shook his head.

Johnson added, “But don’t get a bit too… er… intimate, guys. I asked Mr Pierce to check on you from time to time… we wouldn’t want to upset his religious sensibilities, would we?”

He’d chuckled heartily at his own wit, clearly unmoved that his audience didn’t find him the least bit amusing, and had then had left us to complain to one another about the injustice of it all.

Dobby had turned toward us, his face livid. He’d said, impersonating Mr Johnson with a camp, prattling tone, “‘We wouldn’t want to upset Mr Pierce’s religious sensibilities, would we?’ Jesus… that guy’s so fucking funny… I’m like pissing myself uncontrollably…”

My mate Ed added, dourly, “We all are, mate… it’s filling the room…”

“It’s up to our fucking knees…” That was Adam, scowling.

Mr Pierce came to see us as we were starting to unpack our week’s worth of essentials. He was a newly-qualified teacher, in his first year of work I guess, and lived in the tutor’s flat which adjoined the dormitory. Being just four or five years older than us, his attitude toward us was generally pretty lenient and he tended to be quite laid-back about most minor matters of discipline. The exception to this was anything to do with sex. I don’t know if he was as religious as everyone made out, but he became noticeably uncomfortable if anyone made a joke about sex – unless it was extremely tame and clearly within the context of marriage – and punished things like the possession of girlie mags more severely than other staff.

When he emerged from his flat, walking down the short staircase into the dormitory, he smiled at us almost apologetically.

Dobby immediately tried the same arguments on him as he had on Johnson, bemoaning the lack of space and privacy, and the general unfairness of it all.

Pierce had shrugged helplessly. “There’s no point, lads, it’s not my call. Mr Johnson makes the rules – ”

“But you don’t think it’s fair, right?” Adam chipped in.

Pierce shook his head. “I didn’t say that. As it happens, I think he got it about right – ”

Dobby chuckled hollowly. “Oh, yeah… making six grown lads live in a room the size of a rabbit hutch just for getting drunk once… yeah, that sounds pretty fair…”

Pierce smiled. “Come on, it’s not that small. And it’s only for a week. Unless there are any more problems…”

That was when I chipped in. I asked, “What do you mean? ‘Any more problems’? Like what?”

Pierce shrugged. “Anything against school rules, I guess. Mr Johnson asked me to make regular checks – including during the night – to make sure you guys could keep out of trouble for a week…”

“And if we don’t?” Adam again.

“Well, if you don’t, I guess you’ll be cooped up in here for a little while longer… it’s not being renovated until the summer break, so there’s plenty more time for you to enjoy the… er…” He glanced out of one of the cracked windows at the fire escape and dustbins which the room overlooked, and smirked: “Scenic views…”

Dobby grabbed his crotch theatrically. “Stop… stop… you’re making it flow again…”

Pierce ignored him, grinning to himself, and told us to unpack our things into the narrow wardrobes and tiny drawers of the dormitory.

It was late that night, after the official lights-out time of the boarding house when the six of us were lying in our beds chatting, that the extent of the regular checks which Pierce had referred to became clear.

Starting from about ten thirty, Pierce came down to check us almost every fifteen minutes. At first it was kind of funny but it soon lost its novelty appeal and became annoying: he was treating us as though we were little kids needing constant supervision.

Steven Campbell – who’d only got caught up in the whole thing because he’d somehow acquired his older brother’s identity card and so could buy the grog – had asked him, “What do you think we’re going to do in here, sir? We’re hardly likely to pull out another few bottles and start drinking them on your doorstep, are we?”

Pierce had shrugged. He was clearly ready for his own bed and was wearing only a teeshirt, with the name of some god-awful band on it, and a pair of hideous paisley-patterned briefs which even my dad would think twice about wearing. “I was told to check on you guys until your lights are off and you’re asleep…”

“But we’re just talking… you can see that…”

Pierce had muttered, “Hurry up and turn in… I don’t want this going on past midnight…” and had gone back up to his flat. As he trotted up the short flight of stairs, I noticed that the back of his briefs were stretched and saggy.

It was after Pierce’s third or fourth check on us that someone – Adam, I think, but I can’t be sure – had suggested something to stop him spying on us.

He’d said, “Next time he comes down, why don’t we freak him out? Like pretend we’re wanking?”

Dobby had laughed. “Yeah… you know how weird he gets about sexual stuff… he’ll probably have to run back to his flat to say a dozen Hail Marys or something…”

I wasn’t so sure. “He’ll know we’re just messing around… just beating the bedclothes with our fists…”

Dobby grinned. “Not if we have our cocks out… show him the works…”

I grinned back, a little incredulous. “What? Really do it? In front of him?”

Dobby chuckled. “Yeah, why not? This is our room. We can have a wank in it if we want to…”

“Are you sure it’s not against school rules or something?” Simon asked.

Adam cackled. “What… wanking? Come on, mate…”

Simon smiled. “No… I mean wanking in front of a member of staff… there might be a rule against doing that… I dunno…”

Ed chipped in: “Since they’ve made this our room, why shouldn’t we treat it like we would if were in our normal rooms? I mean, it’s Pierce’s own fault if he gets offended… he shouldn’t be coming down spying on us…”

We all nodded in agreement. It was settled.

One of us laughed about how we were supposed to remain straight-faced when Pierce emerged from his flat and found us all masturbating openly with the lights on.

Adam cut in, quite insistently, “Come on – we’ve got to do this as if it’s serious. I mean, no gasping and writhing… no amateur dramatics… we’re just having a plain old last-thing-at-night wank…”

“What if one of us cums?” Simon asked.

The rest of us chuckled.

Dobby said, “It’d be pretty good if someone did, actually. Pierce’d probably have to wake his priest and get some holy water thrown over him or something…”

We laughed and then I said, “I don’t think I’d be able to… I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get hard, actually…”

Campbell cut in, “That’s a point – we’d better get started if we’re gonna be ready for him next time he comes down…”

The six of us reached down beneath our bedsheets and started groping ourselves. Then we looked over at one another, seeing the bulges of each other’s fists moving up and down, and burst out laughing.

We spent a couple of minutes rubbing our cocks beneath the sheets like that in a state somewhere between semi-arousal and semi-amusement.

Then Adam said, “Okay… so who’s gonna be the first to show himself off…”

I knew it wasn’t going to be me. Most of these guys had seen my cock hundreds of times and in various states of arousal over the years we’d been at school together, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to give them a public show of me wanking to have them take the piss and then renege on the plan.

Campbell surprised me – he was normally pretty quiet and tended to be quite reserved about showing off his body – by pushing his bedclothes off himself, saying, “Okay… how’s this for starters…?” His erection poked out from the fly of his stripy boxer-shorts, being rapidly pumped by his right hand, while he grinned over at us. It looked about six inches long and was impressively thick: the stem was so thick, in fact, that the red bell-end of his cock seemed narrower than it. His foreskin glided effortlessly over it as his hand jerked it up and down.

Dobby laughed, “Phwoaar! Campbell’s sportin’ a thick un!”

Adam grinned over, his hand increasing its rhythm on his own cock beneath his bedclothes. He called out, “Nice one, mate!”

Campbell kept smiling, seeming to enjoy having us admire his cock as he wanked it.

I was amazed at how much it had changed since I’d last taken any notice of it. I guess the last time I’d looked at it must have been when we’d all been pretty new to the school and had found creeping around the boarding house at night and catching each other masturbating endlessly amusing.

A small group of us had caught Campbell one night, sneaking into his room and pulling his bedclothes off his bed while he played with himself. It had been a kind of joke revenge at something Campbell and his mates had done to us a couple of nights earlier.

As I remember it, though, Campbell hadn’t stood out as someone with a particularly thick cock back then: from what I could remember he’d just blended in with the majority of guys who were pretty average. Just one of countless pale, thin dicks that had poked upwards like pencils towards our bellies.

It was incredible to think that such an unremarkable boy-sized cock could have developed, over just four or five years, into the hugely thickened manhood that now filled his whole hand. I found myself marvelling at its transformation.

I guess the same must have been true of all of us: none of us had seen each other’s cocks, at least not aroused, for years. The whole group of us just peered over at Campbell, looking pretty stunned by how much his cock had fattened; at how utterly different it now looked in its adult form.

Campbell called over, interrupting our silent audience, “Come on, then, guys. Who’s next…?”

Adam said, as I expected him to, “Maybe we’re happy like this…”

Campbell just grinned and extended two fingers from the fist he was using on his cock in a gesture of ‘fuck off’.

Dobby pushed his bedclothes away from himself, sighing, “Well, if you guys insist on being humiliated by the competition…” And he revealed his own, very different organ.

Dobby’s cock was about seven inches long and the stem of it was quite thin: perhaps as thin as a couple of fingers side-by-side. The maroon head of it, though, was fat and round like a ripened plum; so large that his foreskin couldn’t cover it completely as he slid it up and down his stem.

Again, the difference between how it looked now and how it looked when I’d last seen it hard, four or five years earlier, was dramatic. His dick had seemed pretty similar to my own back then; now there were worlds between us.

Adam chuckled, clearly as surprised as I was, “It’s like fucking mushroom… no… actually, it’s more like one of those poles you get near zebra crossings…”

Dobby just smirked, continuing to play with it and squeeze it with his white briefs pushed down to the tops of his thighs. He quipped, “This is what every woman dreams of, mate…!”

Adam smirked back. “Oh right… yeah… that’s why you always see crowds of women around zebra crossings, don’t you? Staring up at the poles… salivating…”

The rest of us chuckled.

Dobby seemed unruffled. He was clearly pretty pleased by the shape of his own cock. He called over to Adam, “Let’s see yours then if it’s so fucking special…”

Adam kicked his bedclothes off himself. His cock was a little shorter than Dobby’s but was more evenly proportioned. He wanked it proudly, grinning over at all of us, as we stared at his foreskin sweeping up and down in his fist.

Dobby said, flatly, “What happened, mate? Did you piss yourself before you started?”

I hadn’t noticed until then that the rounded cone-shaped head of Adam’s cock was slick and wet and that the upper fingers of his hand, nearest the head, were also moist as if he’d had them in his mouth.

Adam shrugged dismissively. “Knobs are meant to do this… it’s natural lubricant, isn’t it?”

I realised that the liquid was oozing out of the slit at the tip of his cock.

Mine didn’t do that…

Dobby took his chance to ridicule Adam’s cock just as his own had been. “Come on… they’re meant to produce a few drops, mate… they’re not supposed to cause a wet patch on the bed, are they?”

Adam grinned. “This is what the ladies like…”

Dobby chuckled, “Oh yeah… they just love it when it feels like a guy’s pissing inside them…”

The rest of us laughed.

While this was going on, I was becoming increasingly aware that a smell, although still faint, was slowly developing in the confined air of the room. It was the musky smell of our cocks; that sharp, unmistakably sexual smell of erections and masturbation. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell – it wasn’t like the acrid stench of stale piss – it was, I guess, the scent that guys’ dicks give off when they’re aroused.

It had started with just a few subtle whiffs when Campbell had thrown back his bedclothes, but by now it was becoming gradually more noticeable.

Adam looked over at me, interrupting my musings. “Come on then, Seb. You’re next…”

Smiling, I pushed my bedclothes onto the floor to expose my own cock. It wasn’t quite fully hard, but had reached about seven inches as I jerked it for them.

Adam laughed, “Ooh look at that! Seb’s been hiding a fucking donger down his trousers all these years!”

I noticed Simon glance over at it with a look of admiration. Our eyes connected and he smiled slightly.

My cock swelled at the attention it was receiving.

Dobby asked, “What is it you want to be?”

“I dunno… maybe a doctor or something…”

He grinned. “Well, maybe you should think about making porn films, mate… you’d make a packet with a piece of meat like that…”

A small bead of precum oozed from the furrowed slit at the tip of my cock and dribbled across the shiny helmet of my bell-end.

I wanked my foreskin up and down my shaft a few times and the drop of precum spread out across the bulbous head, making the taut pink skin even more slick. The guys stared at me, grinning.

I was surprised at how much I was enjoying the sensation of having other lads watch me masturbate: it seemed a little seedy to be performing for them like this but that only served to intensify how good it felt.

I figured that they must be impressed, just as I had been when I’d seen Campbell and Dobby, by how much my cock had changed since those nights when we used to yank each other’s bedclothes off. My pert little five incher had really grown up!

Campbell surprised me by chipping in: “I’m not so sure… I mean, let’s face it… his balls are tiny…”

Adam chuckled.

I glanced down at myself, past my hand on my cock, and saw that my balls were indeed looking a little small this evening. They were contracted tightly inside my scrotum and clung close to my body.

I shrugged, still gently playing with my cock. “Well… it’s cold in here….”

Dobby laughed, “Not that cold, mate…”

I grinned. “They’re okay… about average…”

Dobby chuckled, “That’s not the problem… it’s just that, compared to your knob, they’re not exactly in proportion…”

Campbell went on: “You’ve got an elephant’s cock with a mouse’s balls!”

I laughed, “Fuck off! They’re not that bad!” I glanced back over at Campbell’s thick cock, poking through the fly of his shorts as he masturbated it. His balls were hidden away inside. I called over to him, “Okay then… let’s see yours…”

Campbell grinned and bucked his hips upwards to hitch his boxer shorts down.

Then he pulled his balls upwards, closing his legs tightly to emphasise their size as they bulged upwards. They were huge! Like two hens’ eggs straining against the tight puckered skin of his scrotum.

Adam roared with laughter, calling out, “Fucking bull balls!”. The rest of us just looked on in awe.

Campbell lapped it up, proudly showing off his large pair of balls, continuing to rub his thick cock slowing.

He grinned over at me, “This is what a set of knackers should look like, mate…”

At first I was unable to respond; too stunned by the incredible change which the contents of Campbell’s boxer shorts had gone through over the last few years. I can’t say I’d ever noticed the size of his balls before: now they were unmissable.

Still gently wanking his cock with one hand, he rubbed his distended pair of testicles with the other, as if polishing them up. He muttered, “Sign of manhood, these, mate!”

I said, “Girls prefer big dicks to big balls any day…”

Campbell chuckled, glancing at my cock. “They like a cock that’s thick enough to touch the sides… not one that’s too thin for them too feel…”

Dobby interrupted us. “Ladies, ladies! We’ve haven’t got time for this… Pierce’ll be down any minute…” He looked at Simon. “Come on then, mate… your turn…”

Simon grinned sheepishly. “Well… I can’t really compete with some of you guys…”

Adam hurried him on. “Come on, Simes. Just lob it out….”

Simon pushed his duvet away and exposed his six inch cock for all of us to see. He struggled to push his briefs down properly, hitching them down to the tops of his thighs, and his cock slapped against his stomach.

He said, apologetically, “It’s a bit small, I guess…”

Adam laughed, throwing an obvious sideways glance at Dobby, “Well at least it’s the right shape, mate… no-one’s gonna try and cross the road when they see it…”

Dobby snapped, trying to suppress a smile, “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up! Go and get a fucking tissue or something to mop up your leaky hose…”

Simon jerked his foreskin up and down his shaft a few times, making the purple head of it swell and look shiny, and then settled his hand into a smoother rhythm, sliding his fingers more gently along its length. The rest of us looked on, appreciating his technique and impressed by how his cock was arching upwards in response to it. What his organ lacked in size, Simon’s hand more than made up for in technique as he confidently teased and stimulated it.

I guess I’d last seen Simon’s cock a couple of years earlier when we’d shared a room during a school history trip to Belgium. Unlike Campbell’s cock and Dobby’s cock, Simon’s cock had changed little over the intervening years. The forest around it looked slightly denser, perhaps, and his balls looked like they’d grown a little larger, but apart from that its development seemed to have been minimal.

His handling of it had progressed by leaps and bounds, though: he’d clearly refined his earlier hurried and self-conscious fumblings into something far more paced and deliberate. His fingers glided up and down his length, taking the time for his thumb to linger on the sensitive head, and would occasionally pause to squeeze the stem firmly while he savoured the sensations. It swelled in gratification in his hand and, as though to encourage him to continue pleasuring it, the tip of it discharged a few drops of precum to moisten his bell-end.

After a few moments, he looked over at us and smiled, comfortable at having us watch him manipulate his cock with such artistry and control.

A noise from Pierce’s flat brought us out from our reverie and we urged Ed to quickly uncover his cock so that the six of us were all ready to put on our show.

Ed made a big deal of pushing away his bedclothes and, although it didn’t seem entirely necessary, got up on his mattress to push the sheets fully onto the floor.

It soon became clear why he’d made such a performance: when he’d finished pushing away the sheets, he knelt upright on his mattress and, with his briefs halfway down his thighs, revealed the biggest cock of any of us.

Dobby laughed loudly: “Fuckin’ hell!”

Adam joined in: “Whoa! Who’d have thought Eddie boy’d beat the lot of us!”

Ed put his hands on his hips, flaunting his cock and balls, and smiled over at us. He said, “I thought I’d save the best ’til last!”

His cock was extremely large, looking an inch or so longer than mine and almost as thick as Campbell’s. His balls were also very generously proportioned and hung low in his loose scrotum, like a couple of large marbles dangling in a sock.

Although his cock stood upwards, lifting itself clear of his balls, it was clear from the way it drooped downwards that it wasn’t fully hard. It was sickening to think that it might actually grow even larger if given a little more encouragement!

Ed used a couple of fingers to pull his foreskin right back, exposing the broad and swollen helmet of his cock. The surface was bright red and shiny: it was like the waxed skin of a ripened apple. Unlike the cocks of any of the rest of it, the slit at the tip of Ed’s cock gaped open, making a small oval hole.

We all just stared at it and then Campbell sighed, “Jesus”, expressing quietly the admiration and envy of the rest of us at its hefty size.

Ed grinned and his cock rose upwards a little, the head becoming fatter and even more engorged, as he enjoyed the way we were staring, mesmerised, at something he was clearly very proud of. He pushed his hips outwards a little and jiggled it around, so that his cock swirled around and around like the blade of a helicopter and his balls swung pendulously between his thighs.

Some of us smiled at his display; I just found myself thinking how ironic it was that such mature-looking genitals could belong to a guy who, however much I got on with him, could at times be so annoyingly childish. Seeing Ed – whose noisy guffawing on the night we all got pissed had, at least in part, led to us getting caught – with such a well-developed set of equipment, luxuriantly swathed in dense growth of dark swirling pubic hair, was so unfitting that it was like coming across a toddler with a deep voice and stubble.

Adam laughed, “No wonder you put my back out that time when I gave you a piggy-back. It was probably your knackers pressing into my spine – they must’ve put a disc out or something…!”

Campbell continued, “Or the weight of his cock… it’d be too much for anyone to carry…”

Dobby shook his head. “It might look great but it’d be no use – I mean, you’d need a woman with a pussy as big as a… I dunno… a fuckin’ drainpipe or something to get that thing into it…”

Before Ed could respond, we all heard the squeek of Pierce’s door handle and quickly lay back down on our mattresses to act as if we were in the middle of having a communal wank.

Before Pierce was out of the door, Adam whispered, “Remember… no laughing or pissing about…”

One or two hands – probably Adam’s and Dobby’s – started up a slap-slap-slap rhythm and the rest of us quickly joined in.

By the time Pierce had come down into the dormitory, we were all lying on our beds openly masturbating our differently-shaped cocks with a regular rhythm, apparently oblivious to his presence.

He started saying, “Come on, guys –” but stopped abruptly. I think he might have been going to tell us that it was getting too late to be sitting up with the lights on but then had seen what the six of us were doing.

He just stood there in the doorway, speechless, looking slowly around the room. I saw that his eyes moved from cock to cock, lingering to watch each guy’s hand sliding up and down as he demonstrated his preferred technique on his own uniquely shaped organ, and then moved onto the next.

When he looked at mine I felt my cock swell and harden in response. I think it was the expression of intrigued aversion on Pierce’s face that did it: I found it quite exciting that he was clearly fascinated by seeing us all masturbating while at the same time was feeling deeply uncomfortable to have found himself in this situation.

He just stared for a few seconds, blankly, at my cock and at my hand rapidly pleasuring it in long, sweeping strokes, before moving onto Simon in the next bed to me.

I looked over to Adam, lying in the bed opposite and he grinned over at me behind Pierce’s back. Without his hand missing a beat on his cock, he opened his legs wide. Unlike me, he’d taken his briefs off and I got a view between his legs right into the gaping crack between the tops of his thighs. He grinned more broadly: he must have thought he looked pretty cool like that.

In fact, he looked pretty obscene. I guess he didn’t realise it, but his arsehole – pink and a little moist-looking – was in full view between his splayed legs, just underneath his balls which danced and jiggled to the rhythm of his hand.

I was going to gesture for him to close his legs a little but then decided not to. Adam could be an arrogant prick with all of us at times: he more than deserved the embarrassment of finding out that he’d been, inadvertently, flashing the whole room a view of his most intimate part.

Pierce moved into the middle of the room, made like he was going to say something and then decided that he wouldn’t.

We just kept on wanking, enjoying the discomfort he was obviously feeling as he struggled with his curiosity. We looked toward him but kind of through him: like we were aware he was there but that it wasn’t an issue for us.

I noticed one or two of the other guys had moved their left hands to play with their balls as they masturbated, clearly becoming gradually comfortable about being under the gaze of our uninvited audience.

The noise from us was distinct – like a slow, quiet applause – and our rhythm was growing gradually faster.

Pierce must have been conscious of the smell in the room, which had gradually developed as we’d exposed ourselves and was now quite strong. It was the smell of stiff cocks and sweaty balls: the sharp and slightly pungeant odour of male arousal in a confined space. Even a man with his religious sensibilities would know its origin: any guy who had dipped his head beneath his own duvet while he was enjoying his own ministrations would instantly recognise it, and here its effect was amplified by six.

Pierce looked over at Ed, who wanked his large organ roughly with fairly rapid strokes. Ed’s technique was crude and uncomplicated: his fingers, which could barely encircle the large girth of his cock, simply jerked his foreskin back and forth while his large balls thumped against the tops of his hairy thighs.

Then he turned to Dobby, who masturbated by squeezing the stem of his dick between his fingers while his thumb made circles on its large, bulbous head. This was clearly his preferred method of self-stimulation: he kept breaking off momentarily to lick his thumb and make it moist enough to glide without resistance across the dark red surface of his bell-end.

I wondered if maybe Dobby’s cock head was so large and well-developed as a consequence of the way he pleasured himself. Perhaps rubbing it as he did with his thumb had made it swell and fatten so that it was, by now, distended out of proportion with his cock’s slim-looking stem.

Pierce’s eyes moved on and he looked over to Adam, whose cock was making a soft munching sound as his foreskin slid back and forth across its dribbling head. His upper fingers were soaked with his precum and I thought I could even make out a few spatters of it on his round, hairy balls. Adam’s legs were still wide apart and Pierce must have been able to see his arsehole as clearly I could. It glistened between his splayed thighs, nestling in the hair of his butt crack, like a small pink ring.

Pierce then turned to me, at my larger cock, and watched me wank it in my usual pretty simple, but extremely enjoyable, way. I realised then that the bottom of the front of his teeshirt was betraying a fat upright rod-shaped bulge; that his own erection was making his baggy briefs tent outwards beneath it. Pierce seemed unashamed by it or, more likely, was so engrossed by the sight of us all masturbating, that he was unaware of the effect it was having on his own organ.

He looked over at Simon, whose hand danced up, down and around his modestly-proportioned cock as though he were massaging and polishing it rather than tossing himself off. He turned masturbation into an artform: I wondered how good his technique would feel if applied to my own cock and found myself surprisingly intrigued by the idea of Simon himself, rather than a girl, being the one to apply it to me.

Simon looked up at Pierce and clearly enjoyed the fact that the older guy was staring at his cock with such fascination. He let out a small sigh and the flittering of his hand speeded up.

Then Pierce turned to Campbell. I noticed that Campbell had turned his hand around and now wanked his short, thick cock rapidly with his hand turned backwards against it. His thumb and forefinger were at its base and his knuckles were facing towards him, rather than being behind his cock as mine are when I wank. His little finger stood outwards at the top of it, looking slightly comically like a the outstretched little finger of a lady holding a teacup. It looked odd to me, being used to holding my cock in the opposite way, but Campbell clearly enjoyed it because he panted and grunted to his fist’s increasing rhythm.

By the time the first of us climaxed, a small wet patch had formed on the bottom of Pierce’s teeshirt, having soaked through his briefs from the tip of his cock.

The first one to cum was Adam. He did it quite noisily and bucked his hips up and down from his mattress, making it squeak and grate, as his cock violently spewed its load.

The room seemed to instantly fill with the thick, cloying odour of his semen.

I think Adam’s orgasm brought Pierce to his senses: he seemed to realise that he was, in effect, being a voyeur on his students’ sexual activities and hurried back out of the dormitory up to his flat. Before he got to the door, Ed began gasping, his hand becoming a blur on his large cock.

We all climaxed pretty quickly after Pierce’s door had slammed shut. Ed and Simon produced buckets of semen that formed milky pools on their chests; Dobby didn’t produced much but his first couple of spurts were powerful enough to splash his headboard; Campbell’s cock oozed a few dribbles of thick, white liquid that solidified on his pubes almost immediately; and I managed my usual showing of three or four squirts that made splash marks like small pearls on by belly.

As each of us came, we laughed: for some reason, it seemed kind of funny. By the time the last of us erupted, his face red with the effort of pushing his cock to climax and the half-felt embarrassment of being the last, we cheered.

As we lay recovering, one of us – I think it was Ed – said, “Do you think we freaked him out?”

Dobby chuckled. “Good and fucking proper.”

“Did anyone else notice that he had a hard-on?” I asked.

Campbell and Adam laughed and said they had; the rest were at first incredulous.

Dobby said, “That’s why he ran off, then. He was getting off on it and was feeling guilty for it…”

Simon cut in, “Do you think he might be so upset about getting a hard-on that he might want us out of this dormitory. I mean, ask Johnson to change the punishment…”

We were divided on that.

As we went about wiping our cocks and bellies and chests (and, in some cases, headboards), we argued about the effect we thought Pierce’s reaction would have on him. Some of thought it would cause him to stop checking us on future evenings while others agreed with Simon that his religious beliefs would be so challenged by the fact he’d developed an erection at the sight of the six young guys masturbating that he’d recommend an alternative punishment be found.

The next morning, though, Pierce was rather chirpy.

He grinned at us as he walked through the dormitory on his way to check that the prefects were waking the younger boys in the boarding house, and had muttered something about being pleased that we’d “cleaned up last night’s mess”.

Dobby sneered at him. “We were worried we’d offended you, sir…”

Pierce stopped in the doorway leading out to the boarding house. He turned back to us. “Come on, Dobson. I’m not as square as you guys obviously think me. There’s nothing wrong with what you lads were doing… I was just surprised that you were so open about it.”

Adam spat, “When you’re cooped up together in close proximity like this – like animals – you have to lose a few inhibitions…”

Pierce grinned. “Yeah… I suppose… but don’t think I’m that easily shocked… I won’t be easing off with the late night checks, if that’s what you were hoping for…”

I felt pissed off. He’d realised the purpose of our little stunt. It had been for nothing.

Dobby became a little more provocative: “Actually, sir, it looked to me like you kind of enjoyed that last check you made…”

Pierce didn’t rise to the bait but just grinned at Dobby: he’d clearly prepared himself for a comment like that. He said, turning to leave the room, “I think my curiosity was pretty natural… the way you were being so open about it seemed, if anything, to be inviting my attention…”

Dobby tried: “But, hang on, sir… doesn’t it bother you that the Bible forbids guys to do stuff like that together… I thought I heard that somewhere…”

Pierce shook his head and smiled. “Don’t try to use my religion against me – it doesn’t say that and you know it.”

“But it says something like that…”

Pierce made a face like he was getting bored by this discussion. “I think the passage you’re referring to says something about ‘men lying with their fellow men’, which I don’t think is going to happen no matter how cooped up you guys get. So let’s drop it, okay?”

He turned and left us, and the door slowly closed behind him.

By the time it had clicked shut I think we’d all reached the same conclusion. We looked at each other and grinned.

Adam was the one who spoke for all of us. He said, “I think, guys, tonight we’re really gonna freak him out…!”

The rest of us nodded and laughed.

 

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