The Secret Catamite Bk 1, The Book of Daniel (22 page)

At the top of the drive, another
group of boys was standing, watching the shoal. Simon knew that
they were the predators. He thought for a moment of leaving the
shoal and inviting the ordeal, getting it over with, but he didn't
want to be the first and he remembered what Daniel had said about
the trees at morning break. With a start he saw Daniel, in among
the predators, laughing and joking, watching the shoal like the
rest.

But a teacher came and led all
the fags into the school hall, a large impressive place, with high
beams, dark panelling, old paintings in heavy gilt frames. They
were divided into their first year classes. Simon and Peter were in
the same class, and they managed to sit together.

"Like the juniors," said Peter,
happily. Books were given out, a timetable to be copied down. Their
form tutor, Mr Andrews, seemed nice, but of course he would not be
teaching them all the time. His subject was French.

Then it was break. Daniel had
warned him never to call it playtime like at the juniors.

"Come with me, Peter," said
Simon, urgently. He led the way quickly down the field to the
trees. He saw some fags being taken unawares and dropped to the
grass by groups of second years. Peter watched and gulped. "So it's
true then," he said.

They stood by the trees, Simon
wondering about the meaning behind Daniel's instruction. Was this a
sanctuary? They watched as chases developed across the field, all
with the inevitable result. At the top of a grassy bank, two much
older boys were watching and laughing, with cups of tea in their
hands, their green blazers edged in gold. Sixth form prefects.

"There's two more!" came the
shout. A group of perhaps twenty predators was fast coming towards
them.

"Remember what I said," urged
Simon to Peter. "Run!" They ran, splitting up to divide the
approaching sharks. Simon ran as fast as he could, outrunning the
pack.

He heard them shouting behind
him. "You get that one, we'll get this one." Daniel's voice! Now
understanding Daniel’s intention, he slowed and swerved back
towards the trees, a move deliberately designed to look like he was
still avoiding but in fact to allow capture by Daniel's group. Then
they were all around him. He couldn't see Peter. He was pushed to
the ground, his arms and legs pinned.

"I know this one, he was at my
juniors. My turn." Daniel getting in quickly, speaking with
authority.

"Go on then, Gray, debag
'im."

Daniel knelt down beside Simon
in the circle of boys and quickly undid Simon's long school
trousers, pulling them down to his knees, and then his pants.

"His shirt, Gray," shouted one
of the boys. Daniel lifted up Simon's shirt front to complete the
exposure. Simon was trying to say his twelve times table, but all
he could think of was Daniel and all these boys. Oh no, please no!
But then one said, "He's OK, he'll do," and the predators were
leaving for their next victim.

Daniel dropped Simon's shirt
down again. "That was OK," he said.

"Thanks, Daniel," said Simon.
"I'm glad it was you."

"That was the plan," said
Daniel, with a grin. "Nobody else was gonna do that to
you
. If it had to be done, it was
going to be me. Give me your hand." Daniel was scrawling 'DG 2A' on
the back of Simon's hand. "Shows you've been done and who by. You
won't get done again. Get dressed quick, you’ve got a hard on now.
That's why I did it as quick as I could, I know you. Gotta go, see
you tonight." And he was gone.

Simon recovered himself and
pulled up his pants and trousers. He saw Peter coming towards him,
shirt hanging out, obviously upset.

"Don't cry, Peter, for Christ's
sake, don't cry."

"I'll be OK," said Peter, but he
was close to tears.

"They got you?" asked Simon.
"But you didn't cry then, did you?"

"No," said Peter, "but remember
what you said about a, you know, a hard on? I felt it was going to
happen to me. I was scared."

"Did they say anything?"

"They said 'He's passed muster'.
What does that mean?"

"It means you're OK. You passed
the test, Peter," said Simon relieved. He saw 'TH 2B' on Peter's
hand.

"Oh good," said Peter. "Did you
get done?"

"Yes, Daniel Gray did me." He
showed Peter his hand with Daniel's mark on it.

"Daniel Gray? Yes, he's here,
isn't he. I'm surprised, I thought he used to be your friend."

"He still is," said Simon.
"That’s why
he
did it to me
instead of letting anybody else."

"I get it," said Peter,
understanding dawning. "I'm glad I didn't actually get that hard
on."

"Me too," said Simon, omitting
that it was touch and go because it had been Daniel, his protective
predator on that day, that had almost given rise to it and that he
had succumbed when Daniel was talking to him afterwards.

Simon gradually settled in at
Henrys, absorbing the ethos of the place, its traditions and
rituals, aping the great British public schools. A lot of famous
people were 'old boys' and the school's foundation dated back to
Henry VII – it was made clear a lot was expected. But Daniel was
there and although there was less opportunity for them to be
together at school – friendships outside one's own year group were
discouraged – Simon felt better knowing that contact could be made
if needed, usually in the school's own tuck shop at dinner
break.

1. 1957/9 Simon catches
   up
   

Much changed for Simon in that
September. Fitting in at Hooray Henrys as best he could, coping
with the demands of a new range of subjects to study, finding maths
hard once again, doing well in English, French and History, less
certain with Latin, physics, chemistry (especially) and
biology.

On the sporting front, Simon
quickly found that he hated rugby football. This was the winter
game at Henrys, and Simon knew that Daniel liked it, sporty as
always. Daddy also was a great follower of rugby, rugger as he
called it. Daddy had taken him to one or two games where the city
team, one of the top ones in the country, had usually won. Daddy
had played rugger as fly half at school and for his county down
south, and was sure Simon would be a great rugger player. But Simon
found there was a great difference between watching from the stands
and being down in the mud, which is where he inevitably finished
up. It always seemed to rain on games day. Lots of the boys had
played rugger already at their prep schools, and Simon was taken
unaware by the violence of the game. Already his speed was
recognised, and they tried him on the wing, but he lacked the ball
handing ability required.

After a particularly brutal
game, he came home dirty, bruised and battered and then recounted
what had happened and his feelings about rugger at tea, unhappily
when Daddy was there. The disappointment in Daddy's face was
obvious. Simon knew he had failed again in his father's eyes, but
by now was getting used to it. Daddy just got up and left the
table. Simon found he didn't care.

But Mr Atherstone, the school
athletics coach, had noticed this speedy eleven year old with his
quick acceleration, and pulled him to one side.

"What's your name, son?"

"Scott, sir."

"Not very keen on rugby
football, are you?"

"It's OK, sir," said Simon,
warily.

"Don't try to kid me, Scott. You
detest it, that's obvious."

Simon nodded, fearing he was in
trouble for not liking rugger, for being no good at rugger.

"I thought as much," said Mr
Atherstone. "How would you like to run instead?"

"Run, sir?"

"Yes, on the track. You look to
have makings of a sprinter. Depends on your stamina."

"Did you say 'instead',
sir?"

Mr Atherstone smiled. "Yes,
Scott, I did. I assume that means you would like to try? I
understand, even if perhaps some other people don't, that rugby is
not every boy's cup of tea."

"Yes, please, sir," said Simon
with enthusiasm, smiling now.

"It will be hard work, make no
mistake," said Mr Atherstone. "A lot of training and fitness work,
as well as technique. I'll talk to Mr Russell. Next games lesson,
report to me in the gym. Standard PE kit."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

So began a new interest for
Simon. He had always been a fast runner, even Daniel had said that
more than once, so perhaps this was something he could be good at.
Maybe Daddy would approve after all. And he was spared the ignominy
of the ritual of team picking where he was left last, publicly
unwanted, pushed into the team with last pick unwillingly and
unwelcome. Unlike some, at least he had a way out, his speed.

It was hard work, a lot of gym
training and hours running round the track, but at least from there
he could see his classmates getting muddy and bashed about on the
rugby pitch. He also liked the other boys Mr Atherstone had
recruited too. And then Peter Holman came along as well.

"I didn't really like rugger,"
said Peter. This was an understatement. Peter had always been a bit
smaller than Simon, and he had got crushed a few times playing
rugger, but that understatement was typical of Peter's positive way
of saying things. "Mr Atherstone thinks I might be able to do
distance running."

So Simon had a companion in his
training and running. Gradually his body grew fitter and stronger
and filled out, a fact not lost on Daniel in the coming months.

Also that September, Daniel took
Simon to scouts. Not quite on the day he was eleven therefore, but
not long afterwards.

"It'll be OK," said Daniel.
"I've talked to Evans and he says he's spoken to Skip. I think
you'll be in my patrol". This use of the possessive was partly
justified for Daniel's shirt now sported a single white bar. He was
Second in the Harriers patrol. Daniel had explained his promotion
over other scouts by pointing out that he was the best one for the
job. "The other kids are OK, but not the brightest." Simon wondered
how he would fit into this hierarchy that Daniel described. But his
prediction came true.

"Welcome to Harriers Patrol,
Simon," said Evans. "Daniel has told me all about you."

Simon had a moment of worry at
that, but realised that Daniel would not have divulged their
secret. Simon developed a keen interest in Scouts, he loved the
ethos, the competitive yet friendly and supportive company of the
other boys. He soon made his mark as a promising scout, and worked
hard for his tenderfoot. Mum was always finding bits of rope tied
to the backs of the dining chairs as knots were practised. He was
to achieve his tenderfoot in only a few sessions, took the oath of
the Scout Promise and could then sew the scout badge to the centre
of his shirt pocket, and was a proper scout.

In term time it was harder for
them to be alone together as Daniel's mother was at home at
weekends, and if she went out and his Dad was at work, Louise might
be around. There was the den of course, but if they could they
preferred the even greater security and seclusion of the hilltop
near the airfield. It took almost an hour of cycling to get there,
but the aircraft provided a valid reason to go, and as the summer's
fine weather by and large extended into September, they would go as
they had earlier that summer.

Lying together in the cooler
early autumn sunshine on a Saturday afternoon, feeling the gentle
breeze play across their skin, they enjoyed again the touch and
warmth of each other. On the groundsheet in the long grass, they
were close, naked and both aroused. Daniel came, sighing with the
release but Simon was still aroused. Daniel noticed this and
perhaps recognising something in Simon, drew him close, putting his
left arm round his shoulders, drawing his head to his shoulder, his
right hand working on Simon. Simon started to experience a new
feeling, beyond arousal. His body trembled as he felt the mounting
exquisite tension.

"You're ready, Simon, I know
it," said Daniel. "Come on."

Simon simply nodded, his whole
body tensing like a huge spring within. He was rigid as his muscles
tightened.

"It's OK, Simon, just relax, let
it come."

Simon did. It felt like nothing
he had ever felt before. His body was wrapped in warm fire,
shooting down through his groin, from his buttocks up his back and
round his body, licking his neck and throat, at the same time
enveloping his thighs, wrapping round above his knees sending
tingles right down to his toes. Each ejaculatory pulse from his
groin sent a further wave of fiery pleasure shuddering through his
young body while Daniel continued to extract the last ounce of
orgasmic ecstasy for him. Simon let out a deep, panting sigh. He
looked up at Daniel's smiling face as the waves subsided, feeling
the sensual warmth of Daniel's body close to his.

"Fire down below?" said Daniel,
grinning now at his friend's reaction to his first full orgasm.

"Wow. Fire all over, I think,"
said Simon, now shaking with emotion, and tears started to come.
Daniel wiped him, pulled him onto his side, facing him and
continued to stroke him, down his back, his buttocks, running his
fingers lightly over his tummy. Simon's body trembled still under
his touch.

"Idiot, why're you crying?"
Daniel asked gently.

"I don't know," said Simon. He
wanted to say so much to Daniel, how much he felt towards him, but
could not find the words. Daniel just held him close, making no
demands.

After a while, as Simon
recovered both physically and mentally from this fundamental change
in himself, he started to sing,
"Fire in
the foretop, fire in the main, it's fetch a bucket of water boys,
there's fire down below."
And Daniel joined
in.