Anthony Gets the Blame

Two days after the ordeal Anthony endured one Sunday (which was recounted in Anthony and the Play-Shorts  - posted November 2012), the vicar, Reverend Parks paid a visit to Anthony’s Aunt Gladys. Anthony’s aunt had begun to have her doubts about the behaviour of her elder son Edward. She asked herself whether she hadn’t been rather too emphatic in her assertion that he didn’t misbehave; that he didn’t… she could hardly bring herself to say the word… masturbate? Aunt Gladys was firm in her belief that her ‘little angel’ Sean didn’t, thinking him far too young to even know about such behaviour. But Edward, she told herself, why he was only a year younger than Anthony and… well, boys will be boys, she said to herself, and if Anthony masturbated why not her darling Edward?

Aunt Gladys was at a loss and so sought help from the Reverend Parks. He had seemed so helpful and so knowledgeable when Anthony was punished for his gross and quite outrageous behaviour. Yes, Gladys thought the vicar had been very fair in his assessment of Anthony’s behaviour. She felt sure she could rely on him for some impartial advice with regard to her elder son…

“Not at all… not at all,” he had said on the phone when Edward’s mum explained her reason for calling him. “I quite understand… Yes, I could see how upset you were by Anthony’s behaviour… yes, yes, I see… Absolutely no trouble I assure you… I’d be only too delighted…”

Reverend Parks had formed his own opinion of Edward and Sean that Sunday and was saddened by their mother’s assertion of their innocence. He was equally positive the boys were abusing themselves and was sure he saw the signs of guilt in their eyes as they looked at Cousin Anthony’s engorged penis as it bobbed about in front of everyone in the room. He understood boys; understood their wicked ways; understood too that eleven year old Sean was more than capable and quite old enough to have started masturbating.

The boys were still at school when Reverend Parks called to offer comfort, spiritual solace and advice to Aunt Gladys.

The vicar sat with his cup held in one hand, saucer in the other and sipped his tea. He held his peace and kept his thoughts to himself… for the present…

Aunt Gladys evaded the subject of her sons’ possible transgressions as the two talked of neutral subjects such as the weather and the Church Roof Fund.

“… and I fear that it will not be long before I will be coming cap in hand to my parishioners seeking funds to prop up my crumbling steeple…”

Aunt Gladys had great difficulty trying to steer the conversation away from the vicar’s concerns for the decaying fabric of his church. A model of rectitude, she found the whole subject of the moral laxity of young boys particularly distasteful.

There were a few strained minutes during which the only sounds were those of rattling teacups. Finally Aunt Gladys steeled herself to address Reverend Parks upon the subject she was most vexed:

“Vicar, I need your advice… I’d best come straight to the point, but you must understand I find this whole subject most upsetting, but… but I simply must know…” she paused and seemed to wrestle with herself before saying the words, “I must know whether Edward has been… abusing himself in the same way as his cousin Anthony.”

The vicar carefully placed his cup and saucer on the side-table next to his chair and paused before he answered: “I understand your concerns, Mrs Havering, I do indeed… Yes, a mother must sometimes find herself having to face difficult situations. Of course I fully understand your concerns. It saddens me to have to admit it, but boys of Edward’s age are pray to temptations as they enter puberty. Their young bodies begin to develop and they are tempted to perform base acts of self…”

“… But surely,” Aunt Gladys interjected, “Surely not all boys…”

Edward’s mum clung to the hope that her son was different; that he wouldn’t be so bad as to… as to… Once more she could hardly bring herself to say the word. Her lips started to form the words, but no sound emerged.

Reverend Parks saw her difficulty and kindly helped her, “… masturbate. Yes I’m afraid boys are all too often the prey of immoral desires… once one boy starts to err... abuse himself, it’s not long before others he is in contact with are tempted and they too succumb to polluting thoughts…”

He paused. Reverend Parks allowed himself to bask in his own self-satisfaction. The call from Aunt Gladys had without doubt confirmed that he had established his credentials as a man of the cloth concerned for the moral welfare of young pubescent boys. He reflected for a few moments on the events of last Sunday when he had been instrumental in seeing to it that the delightful and quite innocent young Anthony had been severely and publicly ‘dealt with’. It had been so charming to see the boy reduced to apologising for the ‘accidental’ mishap that had taken place… an event that had been purposefully engineered by the vicar himself!

Now, without prompting, Anthony’s aunt, Mrs Havering, was seeking advice as to her two young boys. Precocious young boys, indulged and certainly spoiled by their doting mother. Reverend Parks pondered on his best course of action.

For the time being he decided to settle on some platitudinous waffle:

“Ahem… Mrs Havering… my dear lady, I do so understand your concern. A mother has so many burdens placed upon her and bringing up their children to follow the path of righteousness is but one… Edward, your son, is at a difficult stage in a young boy’s life. I have seen so many boys of 12, 13, 14 and 15 years old, temped from the path of virtue; their innocence despoiled by the vice of furtive masturbation… It is a sad, sad thing to behold a once fresh-faced young cherub, full of eager hope, lured into playing with his penis by other boys who are intent on ensnaring…”

Aunt Gladys was shocked: “Are you suggesting…”

Reverend Parks took a sip of his tea before continuing. He had planted the seed of doubt in Mrs Havering’s mind. Now it was time to take a slightly different tack and come to her son’s defence:

“…You must have noticed how Edward looked at Anthony’s erect penis… I’m sorry for having to speak so frankly, Mrs Havering… I am convinced that Edward was as shocked as we all were at the outrageous behaviour of your nephew. Edward’s look was that of a boy who clearly did not understand the full wickedness of his cousin Anthony’s deeds…”

Mrs Havering interrupted: “Please, Reverend, spare me my blushes and come to the point… Is Edward… is it your opinion that Edward is masturbating?”

Reverend Parks would have been astonished if Edward didn’t masturbate… and he would have been equally surprised to find that Sean didn’t either. The vicar knew all about the secret lives of boys and he would lay ready money that these two rapscallions played all sorts of naughty wanking games together. But to Mrs Havering he said the comforting platitudes he knew she longed to hear:

“My dear Mrs Havering you are blest with two of the finest and morally upstanding boys that it’s been my honour to meet. I truly believe they would be appalled if they knew the full extent of Anthony’s depraved behaviour…”

“Have no fear,” he continued, pleased to see Mrs Havering blush with pride, “I believe both Edward and Sean to be pure of thought, pure of body and pure of spirit.”

Quite how Reverend Parks managed to say this without being struck by a heavenly thunderbolt will remain a mystery. Be that as it may, Mrs Havering was relieved to have her motherly instincts confirmed. She knew her boys to be the best behaved and purest children a mother could wish for; the vicar’s words had comforted her.

“However, we must be vigilant, Mrs Havering,” the vicar cautioned, “What is today true of Edward, might not be the case tomorrow…” and added in an affected world-weary voice, “I’ve seen it so often among the young members of the church choir… One day a keen young angelic boy; the next…”

“How would I know whether Edward…” Mrs Havering still couldn’t bring herself to utter the word, “… does it?”

“The signs are all to obvious to the experienced eye, Mrs Havering… growing furtiveness, spending longer periods alone in his bedroom, demanding unreasonable levels of privacy… the disappearance of items of clothing… a vest, or T-shirt… or possibly a missing towel… a box of tissues perhaps…”

“… small things in themselves, maybe, but sure signs that everything is not as it should be. Time, I’m afraid, to have a few quiet words with the boy and explain to him that God didn’t possess him of a penis merely to give him something to play with…”

“But Reverend Parks,” Mrs Havering interjected, “Supposing Edward was… err, indulging himself in such behaviour… not that I believe he is, you understand... What would Edward want with a towel?”

Reverend Parks with difficulty kept an expressionless face turned towards his interlocutor. He could see that Aunt Gladys was puzzled and not a little ignorant in the abilities of pubescent boys: “… to clean up their… their… ahem… masturbatory emissions,” he explained.

He could see that his host was in need of a fuller explanation, so continued: “Boys of Edward’s age are normally quite capable of full ejaculation. You are not alone, I assure you… a lot of mothers find it hard to accept that their boys are able to ejaculate… able to produce appreciable quantities of semen… until the proof is put before them…”

“… You perhaps didn’t notice last Sunday afternoon, that Anthony’s penis… no?”

Doubtless it was better to leave it there for the moment, thought Reverend Parks. He had noticed, and he knew that Sean and Edward had noticed, the tell-tale signs of pre-ejaculate on the tip of Anthony’ erect penis. It had surprised the vicar at the time, given that Anthony was suffering the torment of having his erection smacked with a wooden school ruler. Yet bubbling from under the fold of Anthony’s foreskin was the unmistakable clear fluid.

Mrs Havering needed a few moments to think. There was something the vicar said that had lodged in her mind. Silence descended on them, each to their own thoughts until Mrs Having spoke:

“More tea, vicar…?”

Reverend Parks assented and while tea was poured, Mrs Havering thought…

Something about a missing towel… no, it wasn’t a towel, but she remembered that one of the boys’ face flannels went missing a while ago. Wasn’t it one of Edward’s? She’d have to check, but she felt sure it belonged to her older son. She’d quite forgotten about it until Reverend Parks mentioned the possibility of its misuse. Aunt Gladys shuddered to think of how the flannel could have been misused… Had Edward actually masturbated into the flannel and then used it to wipe his penis clean? The thought horrified her, but if the vicar said that it was the sort of thing boys did, then that’s what Edward must have done to the missing flannel.

Once more Mrs Havering found it difficult to say the words necessary to explain her thoughts to the vicar, but Reverend Parks could see at once the seed he had planted earlier had not only sprouted, but was bearing fruit far more quickly than he expected. Gently he coaxed the story of the missing flannel from Edward’s mum. Gradually he encouraged her suspicions until there could no longer be any doubt as to the conclusion.

When he was asked for his opinion Reverend Parks was able to state categorically:

“To be perfectly frank with you Mrs Havering, and from what you have now told me, I believe it to be more than likely Edward is a furtive masturbator. It saddens me to come to this conclusion, but I fear that if his behaviour is not nipped in the bud, as it were, we run the risk of allowing Sean to be corrupted by his elder brother…”

“You think he would corrupt Sean?” Mrs Havering was horrified, “But Sean is only eleven year old! He mustn’t be… It must be stopped. You must act! You must do what ever you think is necessary, vicar.”

This was music to Reverend Parks’ ears. Edward needed to be taken down a peg or two. For that matter, so could his younger brother Sean, but he could bide his time. Yes, he would be glad to put Mrs Havering’s mind to rest. He certainly would do all that was necessary to keep her two young boys on the straight and narrow.

“I would consider it to be my duty, Mrs Havering… my duty.”

Reverend Parks considered himself to be somewhat of an expert when it came to uncovering the secret hiding-places where boys hid the evidence of their naughty habits. Boys, he had found, were not very inventive when it came to the art of concealment. Masturbators usually pushed tissues, handkerchiefs and so forth under their beds and forgot about them… until the next time they were needed. If evidence of their misdeeds could not be found under the boy’s bed, then the back of a clothes drawer normally supplied the results the vicar was after.

In this case however, Reverend Parks was left puzzled. He found the missing flannel and it was perfectly evident as to what use it had been put, but it was not where he expected it to be found. However the evidence had been gathered and Reverend Parks planned a course of action...

Edward and Sean were told they would be joining their cousin Anthony at church on Sunday morning.

“Aw, mum… do we have to go?” they both whined. The boys were used to having Sunday mornings free to play.

Mrs Havering gave nothing away. Reverend Parks had told her to leave everything in his hands. All he asked was that the boys attend church the following Sunday.

“Yes you do. I was most embarrassed when we visited Anthony and your aunt last week,” mum replied, “Reverend Parks asked why he hadn’t seen you boys at church recently. I had to tell him that I couldn’t remember the last time you had been, so I promised you’d be going to church every Sunday from now on…”

“But mum… we always have Sunday morning to play…” Edward said.

“It’s not fair…” Sean added.

“That’s enough… Your cousin Anthony goes to church on Sunday. I don’t see why you can’t go as well…”

“But… but Anthony was naughty. He’s always getting into trouble… Anyway, it’s not fair us having to go as well…” Edward said, unable to think of anything else to say.

“We are all going to church on Sunday and that’s settled,” mum said briskly, “I don’t want to hear any more about it.” What she hadn’t told the boys was that in the afternoon after church Reverend Parks would be paying them a visit. Mrs Havering had also invited, on the vicar’s suggestion, Anthony and his mum to visit them as well.

Sunday came round. Edward and his younger brother Sean presented themselves dressed in their best casual clothes for mum’s inspection. They really are such nice boys, she thought as she looked them up and down. Both boys were wearing the same light-coloured chinos they’d worn the previous weekend at Anthony’s house. Along with open-neck shirts and clean shoes, they both looked smart enough for church.

“I wish you had a school uniform to wear like your cousin,” mum said as she looked the boys over.

“But we don’t have to wear a uniform to school, mum…” Sean pointed out.

“I know, darling, but Anthony looks so smart in his uniform, I sometimes wonder whether I should have sent you to his school instead.”

Edward didn’t like the sound of the way their mum was talking. He hated the very idea of a school uniform and thought his cousin looked stupid in his… and as for those embarrassing short trousers he had to wear… why Edward thought he’d die if he ever had to wear those!

“Short trousers are for sissies!” Sean said, adding his thoughts.

“I’m not so sure about that, Sean,” mum replied, “Anthony wears short trousers all year round… summer and winter. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him complain, even when it gets very cold…”

Mrs Havering carefully ignored the fact that Anthony wouldn’t dare complain to his mum about having to wear short trousers. Anthony knew that if he did she’d very likely confiscate them altogether!

Outside the church they met up with Anthony and his mother. Anthony seemed to be wearing particularly short short trousers, thought Edward. He was right and Anthony couldn’t help but pick at the back of his grey school trousers in a vain attempt to pull them a bit lower. The trousers were so short that his school blazer completely covered them, making it look as if Anthony wasn’t wearing any trousers at all! As it was Anthony was well aware that these shorts were now three years old and only ever worn when his mum wanted him on his very best behaviour. So, as he struggled to cover the lower curves of his bottom and bare upper thighs, Anthony already knew something was up and he knew that when he knelt in church he’d be praying it wasn’t anything to do with him. In the three years since he first wore these school shorts, Anthony had grown upwards at an alarming rate, gaining more than a foot in height, most of which appeared to be accounted for by the length of his legs. This of course meant that the already brief short trousers he’d been bought three years ago, when worn at age fourteen, Anthony exposed a staggering amount of bare thigh; a disproportionate amount of smooth bare flesh, of which Anthony was only too painfully aware.

Just to add to Anthony’s heightened sense of self-consciousness, mum had insisted he wear short ankle-socks and a pair of light brown T-bar school sandals. These items ensured Anthony’s long, smooth and still hairless legs were on full display. Anthony couldn't fail to notice the way the other churchgoers were looking at at his school uniform... and his bare legs. It was no wonder Anthony was plucking at the hem of his short trousers in a futile attempt to lower them and try to cover even a little bit of his exposed thighs… but it was to no avail.

Then the vicar appeared. Anthony blushed at the memory of last Sunday’s events. Reverend Parks’ oleaginous smile made his stomach churn and to forget his manners. A sharp smack on the very tops of his bare legs reminded Anthony to raise his school cap in an act of politeness to the vicar.

As he pushed his cap back on, Anthony rubbed his thigh ruefully. It was his own fault he had been caught out for his lack of respect for one of his elders, but he was too preoccupied with the tiny short trousers he was wearing and forgot this courtesy.

However Anthony noted that Reverend Parks appeared to be more interested in his cousins Edward and Sean. It was a change that Anthony wasn’t about to question… far from it. It was a relief not to have the vicar breathing down his neck… especially after last weekend.

“I’m so pleased to see that you’ve persuaded your young boys to attend church, Mrs Havering,” Reverend Parks beamed and turned his gaze towards two now rather nervous looking boys. “I do hope this will be the start of regular church-going… It’s a shame you two didn’t think to wear your school uniforms… like Anthony here…”

Reverend Parks knew full well the boys didn’t have school uniforms, but took delight in watching Edward make his excuses.

“Please… sir… we… err, Sean and me…”

“Sean and I,” the vicar interrupted the thirteen year old, once again having the satisfaction of watching Edward squirm as he was corrected.

“Umm… I mean Sean and I… that is, err… we don’t have a uniform at our school… err, sir.”

“Oh that is a shame… I do think boys look so much smarter dressed in a proper school uniform.” This time he turned towards at Anthony and looked purposefully at the short grey school trousers. “Yes… much smarter!”

Edward and Sean were in for a surprise when Reverend Parks turned to their mum:

“Well I best get a move on… I can’t keep my parishioners waiting any longer…” he turned back to the boys, “I believe we are due to meet again later… Your mother has very kindly asked me to tea in return for some… err… advice I have been able to give her.”

The boys looked at their mother for an explanation once the vicar had left them, but she merely smiled and told them to get a move on.

Throughout the service Sean and Edward kept whispering to each other, trying to work out what the vicar had meant. Reverend Parks glanced more than once in their direction, pleased to note the worried looks on both of their faces. During the sermon he made occasional eye contact with each of the boys in turn. This made them feel guilty, but they didn’t know what about, so they both blushed and avoided looking towards the pulpit.

“What’s Reverend Parks coming to us for?” Sean asked his mum as they left the church.

“I thought it would be nice to ask him, Sean,” mum replied, “He’s been very helpful and since he visited your aunt last Sunday, I thought I would ask him to visit us this Sunday.”

The boys had to contend with these enigmatic words. Mrs Havering started to talk to Anthony’s mum and they all walked away from the church.

As usual Anthony felt very self conscious in front of his cousins dressed in his short school trousers. But it was unusual for them not to tease him about the shortness of his grey shorts that had disappeared once more now that his blazer was buttoned up again. Anthony had thought the vicar’s mysterious allusion to ‘advice’ given to Aunt Gladys was cause for serious concern; clearly his cousins thought the same. After last week’s terrible ordeal, for which he had no hesitation in blaming the vicar, Anthony had been on his guard to make sure he didn’t end up giving his mum any excuse for a repeat performance with the school ruler. Even though he thought it was most unjust to be made to wear his old school trousers for no good reason, he had pulled them on uncomplainingly, thus baring his smooth thighs to a degree not normally seen in public.

As they walked along Edward and Sean whispered conspiratorially trying to work out why the vicar had been to see their mum. Anthony ignored them, pleased that he was being left alone. Whatever the vicar had been saying to his aunt, he was pretty sure he wasn’t involved. He thought back to last Sunday. His penis had been pretty sore for the next couple of days; so sore that he couldn’t masturbate without it hurting. That set Anthony thinking; what if Reverend Parks had been talking to his aunt about boys masturbating? In particular Edward and Sean masturbating! Wow!

Anthony didn’t think he’d felt so happy in his life. What if… what if Edward and Sean…? Anthony thought about it some more. He remembered that he saw Reverend Parks paying a lot of attention to Aunt Gladys and he also saw the way he glanced at Edward more than once as he did so. Maybe he was goading her in a way not dissimilar to the way he had done so with his own mother. He was sure the vicar had dropped him in it just so that he could watch how his mum dealt with disobedient boys. All that stuff about deliberately exposing himself, it was all of it untrue… but what good was his word against that of the vicar’s?

By the time Anthony had finished recalling all the injustices he had suffered at the hands of Reverend Parks they had arrived at his aunt’s house. Anthony had also managed to convince himself that at least he was in no danger; perhaps Reverend Parks had put two and two together and maybe it was Edward and Sean’s turn to be shown up in public!

Anthony was feeling quite excited as he entered his aunt’s house. There was a bit of waiting around during which Edward announced that he was going to his room. To Anthony’s surprise Edward’s mum almost exploded:

“You’ll stay right where you are! You too Sean… I want you both… and you Anthony, to wait here until Reverend Parks arrives…”

“Aw… but mum… we’ve been to church and I want to get changed…” Edward said seemingly unaware of his mum’s short fuse. He was shocked to be sharply rebuked. Anthony, who had never seen his cousins dealt with in such a manner, was positively thrilled to think what might be in store for Edward. If his cousin was made to undergo even half the humiliation he had had to endure under the watchful eye of the vicar last weekend, Anthony would not be disappointed.

The two mums were left to chat in peace as they waited upon the arrival of Reverend Parks. Before long there was a ring at the door-bell and the vicar made his entrance. He carried a small plastic bag.

After the usual pleasantries the vicar turned and addressed the boys:

“I’m not going to beat about the bush,” he said abruptly, “So pay close attention…”

To Anthony’s consternation, the boys were lined up facing Reverend Parks. This was guaranteed to make them all feel guilty and together with Edward and Sean, Anthony looked on in horror at what the vicar produced, between thumb and index finger, from the bag.

“Does this belong to any of you boys?” Reverend Parks asked in such a calm, pleasant voice he might have been asking them how well they were doing at school.

All three boys were horror-struck at the sight of the face-flannel the vicar held up in front of them. However, each boy had his own reason for feeling unnerved.

“This… this flannel has clearly been used for the purposes of self-abuse…” Reverend Parks continued, “It is encrusted with dried semen… boy’s semen… semen produced by means of masturbation…” he turned to face the boys’ mothers. “One of these boys has used this flannel to clean the up mess he produced during his disgusting act of self-abuse!”

Aunt Gladys was the first to speak: “But… but that’s Edward’s face-flannel!”

Edward was quick to protest his innocence: “I didn’t do it…! It wasn’t me! Honest, mum… It wasn’t me!”

“But it’s your flannel, Edward,” Reverend Parks said, “Your mother told me that a face-flannel belonging to you went missing a little while ago…”

“... that’s right,” Aunt Gladys confirmed.

“... and now it has been found,” Reverend Parks continued, “... found in this revolting state,” he paused before leaning towards Edward, “Perhaps you can explain its absence… and how it came to be covered in this, this obscene mess?”

Edward pleaded his innocence. He was innocent. The fact was that it couldn’t have been Edward. What even Edward’s mum didn’t know was that Edward was incapable of producing enough ejaculate to drown an gnat let alone soak the face-flannel the vicar was holding. Edward, to his ever-lasting shame, was a late-developer and at thirteen years old was known by the boys in his class at school as Can’t-Cum-Eddy and who teased him mercilessly as only schoolboys can.

“Perhaps you are telling us the truth Edward,” the vicar conceded.

Edward heaved a sigh of relief. It had been a close call, but his secret was safe; he hadn’t had to openly admit his inability to ejaculate.

“Yes, I am inclined to believe you are being truthful, Edward,” then he turned and looked Anthony straight in the eye. “Are you going to be as truthful, Anthony?”

There couldn’t have been anything more designed to make a boy like Anthony feel guilty. Of course he masturbated! Of course he made a mess when he ejaculated! These facts alone were enough to make his face go bright red and to tremble with the fear of what might happen next.

“Are you going to be as truthful, Anthony?” Reverend Parks repeated.

Anthony’s mouth felt dry as dust as he answered: “Yes, sir… I will.”

“Then…” said Reverend Parks with an air of grim satisfaction, “Then perhaps you will favour us with an explanation as to the presence of this very flannel under your bed!”

To say Anthony was stunned would be to grossly underestimate the shock caused by the revelation. Not only was Anthony unable to utter a single syllable, but everyone else in the room was silent as well.

Silent, that is until Anthony’s mum’s voice was heard to pierce the air: “Anthony!”

From the tone of her voice, Anthony new he was in deep trouble. He knew that whatever he said would not be believed. Whoever had put the cum-encrusted face-flannel under his bed, it wasn’t him. Anthony wasn’t daft enough to leave evidence of his masturbatory activities where they could so easily be found. Anthony was bright enough to make sure of that. So, if Reverend Parks found Edward’s flannel under his bed as he claimed, then someone must have put it there.

It must have been on of his cousins, Anthony concluded. But what puzzled him was that it didn’t make sense for Edward to wank up into his own flannel and then use it to get Anthony into trouble. By the expression on Edward’s face it looked as though the discovery of the cum-soaked flannel was as much a shock to him as to everyone else. If that were the case and it wasn’t Edward who’d set him up, where did all that spunk come from, Anthony wondered?

The only logical explanation was that Sean was at the back of all this. Yes, thought Anthony, it just the sort of thing Sean would do. He was mischievous little sod at the best of times. Yes, who else could it have been to deliberately get him into trouble and serious trouble at that...

Anthony’s mum turned to face Reverend Parks: “Is this true? You found, err… that, in Anthony’s room?”

“I’m deeply, deeply sorry to have to tell you that I found this… this item hidden under your son’s bed,” Reverend Parks said in his most unctuous manner.

“But… but… it’s not mine!” Anthony pleaded with panic as the implications of his present predicament all too apparent, “It’s not my flannel. It’s Edward’s!”

“I am well aware to whom this flannel belongs!” Reverend Parks snapped, silencing Anthony in an instant. “The question is, how did it come to be present under your bed?”

Anthony opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short by the vicar:

“There is only one possible answer and that is that it was put there by one person and by one person only…” Reverend Parks paused for dramatic effect, then pointed a finger at Anthony… “And that person was you!”

Anthony’s mouth fell open. His eyes bulged with indignation.

“It wasn’t me! I didn’t put it there!” he yelled, dangerously close to losing control of himself in front of everyone. More than that, he was insulted the vicar thought him stupid enough to have left the soiled flannel where it could so easily be found. Letting his pride get the better of him, he blurted out words he quickly regretted saying: “I wouldn’t have left it lying around like that…” He closed his mouth abruptly as he realised he’d said too much.

Reverend Park’s eyes lit up: “... So you would use it… use it for your own base purposes of self-gratification… and hide it somewhere in the hope it wouldn’t be discovered?”

“No! No! That’s not what I meant…” Anthony could feel himself being drawn into the vicar’s web.

“But you admit to committing the sin of self-abuse?”

Anthony was trapped. To deny that he masturbated would be lying… lying to the vicar no less. To admit to masturbation in front of his mum, aunt, cousins Edward and Sean and Reverend Parks was more than he could face.

“Anthony, look at me when I’m talking to you… Do you admit to masturbating and spilling your boy’s seed in the pursuit of carnal pleasure?”

Anthony moved his head slowly up and down to admit his guilt. There was a sharp intake of breath from both his mum and aunt. Anthony, with his head bowed, managed a quick glance in the direction of his cousins. It was clear Edward was puzzled and didn’t understand what was going on, but Anthony could see a barely suppressed smile on Sean mischievous face. Anthony bit his lower lip and tried to figure out what Sean had done to get him accused of wanking into one of Edward’s flannels.

Sean was wise enough to make sure that only Anthony could see how satisfied he was with the outcome of his mischief. With the adults all staring at Anthony, here was not much danger of them looking in Sean’s direction anyway, so he was able to enjoy a few moments gloating at the way his cousin was being questioned by Reverend Parks.

Sean was the only one in the room who knew exactly what had happened. It had taken him a bit longer than he thought at the outset, but the outcome had been totally worth it. Watching Anthony being browbeaten by the vicar and made to say in front of everyone that he masturbated was… was…  just so awesome… mega!

It had been so easy to slip one of Edward’s flannels into his pocket. As Sean suspected, his brother simply thought he had mislaid it or it had got lost in the laundry. Sean got to work that same evening. Even though he was younger than Edward, Sean had reached the milestone of spermarche before his older brother. True, he wasn’t able to produce more than a teaspoon of clear ejaculate at first, but his persistence paid off and by the time of Anthony’s disgrace and humiliation the previous Sunday, Sean had managed to make quite a mess of Edward’s flannel. It had been easy for him to slip up to his cousin’s bedroom and to plant the evidence while everyone was still downstairs remonstrating with Anthony about his shameful behaviour. Why, Sean even had time to masturbate into the flannel in Anthony’s bedroom just before he pushed the damp cloth under the boy’s single bed where he was sure it would be found without too much effort.

Sean hadn’t thought out just how he would engineer the finding of Edward’s cum-soaked flannel, so he was thrilled when it became clear what had happened. Even up to the time when Reverend Parks had produced the flannel, Sean had no idea what course events had taken since he’d been in Anthony’s bedroom.

Reverend Parks was lecturing Anthony’s on the evils of masturbation, accusing him of sinful behaviour. This was the top of the slippery slope and behaviour such as Anthony’s would inevitably end with his being cast down into the fiery furnace. Suddenly it all became too much for Anthony. He knew it was wrong of him to masturbate, but everyone he knew did it, so why pick on him? And it wasn’t him who was responsible for wanking into Edward’s flannel. He didn’t put the flannel under his own bed; he wouldn’t be that stupid, but he had a pretty good idea would put it there…

“It was Sean!” Anthony yelled, “He did it! He put that… the flannel under my bed… Sean… he did it!”

“Anthony! Stop that this minute!” his Aunt Gladys snapped, “I won’t have you accusing Sean…”

Anthony lost control of himself and, without thinking, blurted out: “Oh, shut up! Shut up! You don’t know what Sean’s like… He did it! He put the flannel under my bed!”

Aunt Gladys nearly fainted. To have her precious baby accused of such wicked behaviour was more than she could bear. Fortunately Reverend Parks came to her aid and before she had time to respond, he raised his hand in a conciliatory manner in an effort to calm her:

“My dear Mrs Havering, try not to upset yourself,” he said, “Anthony is clearly a very troubled young boy. The effects of his evil habit, no doubt…”

“He should have his mouth washed out with soap for what he just said to me…”

“I quite agree, Mrs Havering, I quite agree… It’s just what he needs. Rudeness such as that should never be tolerated…”

“Just see that he does have his mouth soaped… A thorough mouth-soaping…”

“Mumm…!” Anthony appealed to his mother, but was ignored.

“Gladys… this is your house. Anthony has disgraced himself in your home and I think it only proper that you should deal with his gross behaviour in whatever way you think fit…” mum said, giving Aunt Gladys carte-blanche to discipline Anthony.

“But, mumm…!” Anthony pleaded again. He knew what a mouth-soaping was like and the thought of getting one at the hands of his Aunt Gladys was horrifying.

Reverend Parks was at his most oleaginous: “Anthony clearly doesn’t understand what he is saying, Mrs Havering… accusing a young boy of your son Sean’s age. Why, it’s preposterous. Anthony is clearly ignorant of the physiology of young boys. Sean is far too young to be responsible for… ahem, abusing Edward’s flannel in such a way.”

“But… I didn’t mean Sean did it… not that… but he put the flannel under my bed…”

Anthony might have saved his breath for all the good it did him. No one was listening. But he knew Sean arranged for the discovery of the flannel; he didn’t know how it came to be soaked in cum, or where the cum was from…  but he knew, he just knew Sean was behind it.

Sean was actually in seventh heaven as he listened to Anthony try to blame him. Sean knew no one would believe him capable of what he heard the vicar call a ‘gross act of self-abuse’. If Anthony had had the sense to try and blame Edward, the outcome might have been different. But either way he, Sean, would be in the clear. He was too young, too innocent, to be involved in anything so wicked! Ha! Sean could hardly stop himself from gloating over Anthony’s misfortune. A mouth-soaping! Now that was an unexpected bonus! He decided to act and make it an even more memorable day for Anthony. After all it was he, Sean, who had been so ‘falsely’ accused. It was only right and proper that he should have retribution for the way his good name had been besmirched.

“Mum…” he piped up, “Mum, where are you going to take Anthony to have his mouth washed out with soap?”

Aunt Gladys smiled at her young son: “Why, I hadn’t thought… upstairs in the bathroom I suppose…”

“Why don’t you soap Anthony’s mouth out in the kitchen, mum, then we can all watch. The bathroom isn’t big enough for everyone…” Sean suggested.

“That’s a very good idea Sean,” his mum replied, “Everyone knows Anthony has been very naughty, so I guess it’s right that everyone should…”

“... bear witness to his punishment,” Reverend Parks said as he finished Aunt Gladys’ sentence, “I wholeheartedly agree with Sean’s suggestion. It is only proper that we all see Anthony receives the just reward for his wickedness. He has wantonly accused his little cousin Sean of quite vile behaviour… behaviour which we all know him to be entirely innocent of… and he has used intemperate language towards you, Mrs Havering, his aunt. Yes, I do so agree that Anthony must be dealt with in the way young Sean suggests.”

Anthony couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but it was about to get worse…

“Mum…” Sean piped up again.

“Yes, darling…”

“Won’t Anthony get his school uniform dirty if he makes a mess when he’s having his mouth washed out with soap?”

“Well, yes darling, I suppose he will if some of the soap bubbles dribble out of his mouth. That’s a good point Sean. We’ll have to tie a towel round Anthony’s neck…”

“But mum, that will only make the towel all soapy… Why doesn’t Anthony take off his school uniform before he has his mouth washed out with soap?”

“That’s a very good idea, Sean… What do you think Hetty?” Aunt Gladys asked turning to her sister, “It certainly makes sense and would save a lot of trouble if Anthony simply took his clothes off before his mouth-soaping…”

Anthony couldn’t believe his ears and looked from his mum and to his aunt and back again with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. He listened as his mum repeated the words she’d said a few minutes earlier to her sister; that Anthony had disgraced himself in Gladys’ house and so should be dealt with in any way her sister saw fit.

So, with all eyes on him, Anthony was made to undress. It wasn’t without incident as it can be imagined that no fourteen year old boy would willingly strip bare-nude in front of his mum, his aunt and his cousins, to say nothing of Reverend Parks, who was not displeased to see Anthony so publicly disgraced once more.

Anthony kept mumbling to himself that it was not fair he was being punished; it was not fair that no one would listen to him… it just wasn’t fair!

As Anthony undressed he was told to hand his clothes to Sean who had thoughtfully offered to help. However, when Anthony was left wearing nothing more than his school uniform white boy’s underpants, things took a turn for the worse. He pleaded to be allowed to keep his underpants on and pushed Sean’s hand out of the way when he tried to pull at the elasticated waistband.

There was only one way it would end of course… Anthony would have his underpants removed; he would end up bare-nude... and he would have some very sharp smacks directed towards his bare bottom as his mum held his arm tight. Anthony yelped as mum’s hand made loud contact with his bare flesh. One or two extra smacks landed on the tops of his thighs and Anthony promised to cooperate.

Edward was instructed to fetch some things from the bathroom, including soap and one of the spare toothbrushes. Anthony, now fully nude, was frog-marched into the kitchen.

“Fold your hands behind your back and stand up straight… head back… mouth open,” Aunt Gladys ordered.

Edward returned. The mouth-soaping started. Anthony’s mum made everyone a nice cup of tea, while Sean and Edward were allowed to have a cold drink from the fridge.

Bubbles, froth and foam soon filled Anthony’s mouth as Aunt Gladys warmed to her task. Poor Anthony couldn’t help but cough and splutter as the soap stung his tongue. Foam oozed down his chin, splashed onto his chest and dribbled down over Anthony’s tummy. It was just as well Sean had suggested Anthony be stripped nude for his mouth-soaping, as it would have ruined his school uniform had Anthony still been wearing it.

“Tea’s brewed,” Anthony’s mum announced.

“Just what I need… I’m gasping, Hetty,” Aunt Gladys said and picked up a bar of soap. “Open your mouth… that’s it, wide open,” she said to Anthony and promptly pushed the soap into his mouth. “Now put your hands on your head… and don’t let that soap drop out of your mouth!”

While everyone enjoyed a break and sipped their drinks, Anthony was made to stand in disgrace with a bar of soap protruding from his mouth. He stood facing everyone as soapy froth ran slowly down over his bare chest. His eyes were red and tears ran over his cheeks. Snot oozed from his nose.

Anthony had been stitched up by his cousin Sean… well and truly stitched up.