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.
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