During the days which followed the games of Cowboys and Indians Francis found it increasingly difficult to understand his feelings about the new regime his mother had forced upon him. On the one hand he was naturally deeply resentful of the way he’d been entrusted to the ‘care’ of his younger sisters, Sam and Sarah. On the other hand there was something strangely exciting about the skimpy Red Indian outfit he’d been forced to wear when he was made to join the group of younger boys in their games.
In short, Francis had conflicting emotions about the new scheme of things.
His costume had been put away in the chest of drawers in his bedroom by his mother, but Francis was drawn to take it out more than once when he was alone. Nervously Francis had pulled open the drawer in which the costume was kept, fearful that he might be discovered. He looked down at the flimsy loincloth, scarcely able to believe he’d been made to wear the tiny flaps of buckskin at all… let alone in public. And yet… and yet, here he was, gingerly picking up the little scraps of soft leather, wanting to feel them against his bare flesh once more as he thought about the Cowboys and Indian game he’d played in the meadow with the younger boys under the watchful eyes of Sarah and Sam dressed as Cowgirls. The game during which Francis had his pubic hair removed, or ‘scalped’, as the Cowboys Terry and Ben would say, leaving him bald as a billiard ball between his legs.
Recent events in the Copper Kettle were also all too vivid in his memory and Francis shuddered when he recalled what happened inside the tearoom. Having his tiny costume minutely examined by the ladies was bad enough. Francis shuddered as he remembered how they had even taken his little loincloth flap between their fingers and lifted it up before commenting knowledgeably about the quality of the beaded decoration. Francis had gulped his glass of cold milk as the ladies continued their examination, seemingly ignoring his penis as it jerked and bobbed upwards. But what took Francis by complete surprise was seeing his sisters dressed in their Cowgirl costumes. He certainly was not expecting their participation in the forthcoming game of Cowboys and Indians and no doubt witnessing whatever humiliations which would surely befall him.
The noise of Sarah’s cap-guns as she fired the six-shooters above her head distracted Francis sufficiently for Sam to sneak up behind her older brother. The ladies roared with laughter as Sam flipped her lasso over Francis pinning his arms to his sides. Fortunately Francis had just about finished drinking his milk and one of the ladies, who saw what Sam was up to, took the glass from Francis’ hand to avoid an accident.
“Sam… Sam, what are you doing?” Francis yelped as the lasso was tightened, pinning his arms to his side.
“Taking you prisoner!” Sarah replied pointing her cap-guns at her brother.
The ladies of the Copper Kettle thought this great fun. Mrs Barton, a keen amateur photographer who, it seemed, was never without her trusty Rolleiflex, decided to record Francis’ capture… or to “Capture the Capture” as she put it… for posterity. So Francis was forced to stand, while trussed up like a turkey and wearing nothing much more than his tiny buckskin loincloth flap, in the middle of a group of amused ladies.
“Oh do try and smile, Francis dear,” Mrs Barton said as she peered down at her camera.
Next Mrs Barton placed Sarah and Sam each side of Francis for what she called a “Family Portrait”. Sam held the lasso so that it was prominently displayed, while Sarah showed off her six-shooter cap-guns. Francis hung his head miserably. He knew Mrs Barton’s photographs would be found prominent positions in the hallway at home, placed where visitors would be sure to see them.
“Francis!” Mrs Barton barked, “Head up! And do please smile for the camera… it’s not much to ask… and Sarah, would you mind… Francis’ loincloth… the flap needs arranging, it appears to have slipped to one side… Thank you… yes, that’s it... just lay it along the top of the penis… Yes, I can see the flap doesn’t quite reach the head of the penis, but that will have to do...”
At this juncture Francis’ penis was pointing straight out, parallel to the floor of the Copper Kettle and until Mrs Barton had started to take her photographs no one had been in the least bit bothered whether it was on display or not. Most of the ladies present were quite used to looking after boys like Francis and those that weren’t were not the type to be shocked by anything Francis could flaunt in front of them. If anyone was embarrassed by the wayward penis it was most surely Francis himself.
Understandably it was with a sense of relief that Francis, bound with Sam’s lasso, was at last escorted out of the Copper Kettle Tearoom. It was but a short distance to the meadow where the game of Cowboys and Indians was to be played (events previously recorded in Christopher’s Story: Part 5 and Christopher’s Story: Part 6).
Back in his bedroom, as Francis examined the little scrap of soft leather, his Red Indian loincloth between his fingers, he thought back to those events. His ‘scalping’; the complete removal of his pubic hair. The nettling he’d endured at the hands of Ben, one of the Cowboys, had been a terrible ordeal that left his erect penis oozing pre-cum and dotted with extremely itchy little bumps that he could do nothing to assuage. This had been followed by his facing a ‘firing squad’ during which he’d been splattered by cum from two fellow Redskins, Joseph and David. Francis himself had unintentionally blasted off his reserves of 'ammunition' during the game. His sticky mess landed squarely on the unfortunate Christopher.
Francis wondered whether he should visit Christopher to apologise for what happened. There was of course an ulterior motive. Francis was aware that for some reason or other, Christopher didn’t get the opportunity to discharge his own rifle. Indeed, when Francis thought back to what happened, he remembered that as soon as Christopher had finished firing David’s rifle, Terry had ordered Christopher’s hands be tied behind his back again, ready for the march back to Mrs Harper’s house.
This was curious, Francis thought and he wondered whether Christopher was under orders not to masturbate. Francis didn’t know all the details of Christopher’s situation and so was unaware of the conversation Christopher had had with Mrs Harper when he told her that he didn’t play with himself. This had put Christopher into the most awful position, particularly when Mrs Harper, thinking she was being helpful and knowing what boys were like, decided that Christopher should not be left alone lest he be tempted to play with his penis. Christopher, a normal, healthy fourteen year old boy, found himself unable to masturbate. Every opportunity to indulge his favourite hobby was somehow sabotaged. From enjoying a wank three or four times a day to zero left Christopher very, very frustrated.
Had Francis known, he would have understood and have had every sympathy for the younger boy’s distressing situation. Masturbation was one of the subjects Francis’ mother, Mrs Park, felt very strongly about, although not from a particularly moral standpoint. It was the amount of extra laundry that Francis created from his activities that drove Mrs Park spare. Both Sam and Sarah had heard their older brother being admonished on the very subject a number of times. Francis was usually in the process of being told off about the ‘mess’ he’d left on his bed-sheets, or on his pyjamas. Occasionally Francis would be hauled across the coals for using one of the hand-towels in the bathroom to clean himself up after watching himself masturbating in front of the big bathroom mirror… a particular favourite venue of Francis.
It was an inevitable consequence of these activities that Francis was forbidden to masturbate. Needless to say it was a ruling Francis broke on an almost daily basis. This cavalier disregard of his mother’s instructions was but one of the reasons which resulted in his sisters’ intervention and their offer to make sure Francis got plenty of fresh air.
Francis resolved to call on Christopher just as soon as the opportunity arose. He argued that while his mum banned him from masturbating in the house, she’d not said anything about masturbating anywhere else. Francis reasoned he could legitimately visit Christopher to talk about Cowboys and Indians and maybe discuss the flimsy costumes they’d been made to wear. Yes, he thought, it seemed a reasonable idea. Maybe Christopher would know somewhere they could… y’know, practice playing Red Indians. The prospect made Francis very excited indeed!
Even Francis realised the absurdity of actually wanting to dress in the Red Indian costume he’d been made to wear by his younger sisters. But once a boy like Francis gets an idea in his head, particularly an idea that is accompanied by a certain frisson of naughtiness, there is little to stop him from seeing it through. Not that Francis wanted to don the fearfully brief garment in front of his sisters, or those ladies it the Copper Kettle again… far from it! But Francis wanted to find out if anyone else, Christopher in particular as he was the next oldest boy who had been literally ‘roped in’ to Terry’s game, felt the same way as he did.
“I thought I might go and call on Christopher, mum,” Francis called out to Mrs Park as casually as he could, “See if he’s okay after the game of Cowboys and y’know… Indians.”
“Well don’t be late home, Francis,” his mum had replied. She knew her son and wondered what Francis was up to. Might she just give Mrs Harper a call? Hmm, perhaps a bit later.
When Francis arrived at Mrs Harper’s he was just about at ring the doorbell when the door was flung open by Mrs Harper herself. She was clearly very flustered. Cindy squeezed past her through the doorway with a brief “Hi!” directed at Francis, who stood puzzled on the doorstep before it became clear what was happening.
“Oh, do get a move on boys!” Mrs Harper called back over her shoulder. “Terry… It told you to get a towel for Christopher… that’s a face-cloth… and it won’t do!”
Terry was laughing fit to burst. Behind him and to one side in the hallway Francis could see an otherwise nude Christopher holding a small face-flannel between his legs. The tiny piece of flannel barely covered anything, indeed the tip of Christopher’s foreskin could clearly be seen peeking out below the little cloth. As usual Christopher stood red-faced with embarrassment.
“Oh… hello Francis,” Mrs Harper said as she suddenly turned and saw Francis waiting on her doorstep. She quickly appraised the situation. “Francis, would you stay and look after Christopher? We’ve got to go out and we’re late already… good… thank you so much, that’s a great help… Christopher will explain. Terry will you stop laughing and get a move on!!”
Quite unplanned Francis found himself suddenly alone with Christopher, who was still clutching the face-cloth.
“I… I…wanted to apologise for… y’know, er spraying cum all over you the other day,” Francis said by way of his introduction.
Christopher was more red-faced than ever, “Um… it’s okay, I guess…”
“It’s just that…” Francis hesitated before he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out his tiny Red Indian costume. He held it up in front of Christopher, “See… I brought my outfit with me… thought… thought we could put them on…. and…” Francis hesitated again. It was his turn to become red-faced, “Thought… um, you might want to get your own back…”
Christopher’s eyes opened wide, “You mean it?!”
Francis nodded, “...course I do. We have to put on our outfits though,” he added.
Christopher suddenly looked bashful as he glanced down at the floor of the hallway. He nervously rumpled the facecloth between his legs.
“What’s up?” Francis asked, “Don’t you want to put on the Red Indian outfit?”
Christopher looked up at Francis: “No… it’s not that… it’s…” he paused then blurted out, “I told Mrs Harper that I didn’t do it… y’know… wank...”
“Is that all?” Francis chuckled, “I told my mum I wouldn’t do it either… but well… I did try not to… for about two days… but…”
“Two days! I haven’t had a wank for over two weeks!!” Christopher screamed. His frustration was palpable. “Every time I find somewhere to do it, someone walks in on me… it’s like I’m being followed and they’re doing it deliberately to stop me… it’s not fair!”
“... It’s not only that, but I haven’t got any clothes to wear either,” Christopher added.
“Yeah, I heard about that… still there’s always your Red Indian outfit,” Francis said.
“Fat lot of good that is… when we play the Red Indians always lose every game to the Cowboys, so I end end up stripped nude anyway… what’s the point?”
“Hmm…” Francis nodded and then asked Christopher if he had his Red Indian outfit anyway and then added: “I thought maybe you could try my outfit on if you like… and I could try yours on… y’know, like we were practicing to play a game or something…”
Christopher thought this a goofy idea, but went along with Francis since he had nothing else to put on apart from the stupid facecloth that Terry had just given him.
“Yeah… okay,” Christopher answered, “... but I’ve only got David’s Red Indian outfit… we did a swap before the game… it’s a Tenderfoot’s outfit…”
“So?”
“So…” Christopher answered, “It’s only got a flap at the front… didn’t you notice?”
“Um, no I didn’t… guess I was preoccupied with other things,” Francis replied, thinking back to the stinging nettles and being blasted with the contents of David and Joseph’s rifles. So what if a tenderfoot loincloth didn’t have a flap at the back? The rear flap on his own costume hardly covered much anyway.
“Do you still want to try it on?” Christopher asked, still clutching the flannel between his legs.
“Sure… why not?”
“Alright then, but you have to promise to put it on… Scout’s honour?” Christopher insisted.
“I promise… Scout’s honour,” came the reply. Although Francis did wonder why Christopher was making such a fuss about it, he said nothing.
Christopher led the way upstairs to Terry’s bedroom to find the costume. Francis watched as Christopher held on to the facecloth between his legs with one hand while he opened a drawer with the other and took out David’s Red Indian costume. He handed it to Francis.
“Blimey... I thought my outfit was small, but this is even smaller!” Francis exclaimed as he compared the two loincloth flaps, “I hadn’t realised how tiny the one you were wearing was when we were playing… it’s… it’s... microscopic!”
“... but can you see how there’s only one flap… for the front… they took off the rear flap in the shop…” Christopher looked up Francis and grinned, “Still want to try it on?”
Francis had doubts. It was true, he hadn’t considered the loincloths would differ in size quite so much… hell, he hadn’t thought they’d be that different. Next to his own already laughably small loincloth, the one he was holding that Christopher had just handed to him looked like a postage stamp!
“I… I…” Francis stuttered as he held up the miniscule tenderfoot loincloth… the backless miniscule tenderfoot loincloth, “Um…” He hesitated.
“You’re not going to chicken out, are you?” Christopher asked. For once and for the first time since his stay at Mrs Harper began, he felt as if he had the upper hand… and the upper hand over an older boy! It felt good. “You said you’d try it on…” he insisted.
“I know… but it ain’t ‘arf small…” Francis replied, “I mean mine doesn’t cover much… but this won’t cover anything at all!”
“But you said you’d try it on… you promised… Scout’s honour,” Christopher reminded him.
Francis took a deep breath: “You’re right… I promised…”
With that Francis handed over his Red Indian loincloth to Christopher and started to undress.
It only took Christopher a few moments before the loincloth Francis had given him was in place. He pulled the front flap down so it was resting on the base of his hairless penis. There was sufficient coverage in this position… providing he didn’t get excited. Christopher walked over to the mirror at the side of the boys’ bedroom. From the front he could just see pink wrinkled skin of his scrotal sac at the sides of the flap, but when he turned sideways, the flap hid hardly anything. It had been the same with David’s little Red Indian loincloth. Christopher’s pubescent penis was already developed enough to push the flap forward and to reveal what was underneath to anyone looking at him from the side. Christopher fiddled with the buckskin flap and positioned it as best he could, then he twisted round to look at the rear flap. Although it only covered part of his bottom cleft, it still felt a whole lot better than nothing at all.
“Can you give me a hand with this?” Francis interrupted Christopher who turned to see what he wanted.
“Wow… I forgot the cowboys scalped you!” he laughed.
“Yeah… you don’t have to remind me,” Francis replied, “And I don’t know why you think it’s so funny… baldy!” he added teasing the hairless fourteen year old.
Francis thought it prudent not to say anything about another of his mother’s latest injunctions. When he was brought home after the game of Cowboys and Indians and Mrs Park saw how he’d been relieved of his pubic hair during the scalping, she thought Francis looked so much nicer without, what she called, “that unsightly tangle of hair.”
As Mrs Park knew that she and the girls were going to be seeing much more of Francis (in both senses of the word), she ordered him to keep his genitalia free of hair in future. “The girls can help you,” she added to the delight of Sarah and Sam.
And no amount of, “But mums…” from Francis would change mum’s mind. When Sarah added how it would help get more sun and fresh air to Francis’ pallid body, mum agreed and told her son that she didn’t want to hear him say another word on the matter.
“Baldy yourself!” Christopher countered with good humour as he came to help Francis put on David’s micro-loincloth.
Francis big penis was already engorging, but still pointing downwards as Christopher took hold of the loincloth cords and tied them together. The boys did their best with the tiny flap, but their efforts to cover any more than the base and an inch or so of Francis’ penis were futile.
Christopher had never seen such a big penis up close. Even out in the meadow playing Cowboys and Indians, he hadn’t fully appreciated just how big Francis’ penis was. Up close and fiddling with the little flap it was impossible not to … especially when it started getting even bigger!
“Your nob’s just too big…” an exasperated Christopher said finally, “You’re never going to get it to fit David’s loincloth…”
“Your nob isn’t so small either…” Francis said as he pointed out to Christopher how his penis had already pushed the front flap of his loincloth to one side.
It was true, Christopher was getting excited and it wasn’t long before his arousal was more pronounced than that of Francis. Pointing straight up, Christopher’s penis was visibly throbbing with excitement as the boys tried to adjust each other’s loincloths. This of course only made matters worse and it wasn’t long before Francis noticed a clear bubble of pre-cum oozing from Christopher’s nob.
“Looks like you’re ready for a wank,” Francis said.
“But I’m not supposed to…” Christopher replied.
“Neither am I… but that’s not going to stop me…” Francis said boldly.
“What if Mrs Harper finds out?” Christopher was desperate for a wank, but still he held back, “I told her I didn’t wank…”
Francis thought for a moment, during which he casually stroked his penis to full erection. The tiny loincloth flap of the tenderfoot Red Indian costume disappeared almost completely, squashed between his erect penis and his smooth pubis.
“What if…” Francis drawled.
Christopher looked quizzically at the older boy.
“What if… I mean, you said you promised Mrs Harper you wouldn’t wank…” Francis set out his argument, “but what if I was to wank you? That would be okay, wouldn’t it?” he reasoned, “... and…”
“... I could wank you…” Christopher added excitedly.
“That’s right… we wouldn’t be wanking ourselves… but we didn’t say we wouldn’t wank anyone else…” Francis confirmed, “So we’re not doing anything wrong if we wank each other… are we?”
Christopher was thrilled with the idea. No one had ever wanked him before and the idea of actually wanking Francis’ big nob was… so cool...
“Come over here,” Francis led Christopher to stand in front of the bedroom mirror, “I want to see what we both look like in our costumes.”
The two boys stood side by side in front of the glass. In the reflection the boys could see how absurd their costumes were. Christopher’s erect penis had pushed his loincloth flap to one side so his balls were fully visible. In his excited state Christopher’s foreskin had retracted so that his glans penis was only just covered.
“I can’t imagine what it must have been like to wear the tenderfoot loincloth during the game,” Francis said as he looked at himself in the mirror. He told hold of his penis and moved it from side to side, trying to figure out if there was any way the tiny loincloth flap could be made to cover his boyhood. “IT’S RIDICULOUS!!” he continued loudly, “... there is NO WAY I can cover my nob!! How can anyone expect you to play wearing THIS!!”
“I had to…” Christopher reminded him, “... AND I was taken to the shop to have the rear flap removed… YOU SAW ME!!”
“Oh yes… so I did,” Francis stood up straight and laughed: “Why don’t you try and see if you can do it, Christopher… you see if you can get my nob covered with this little flap…” Francis twitched his penis.
Christopher guessed what Francis was up to, after all they’d just talked about wanking each other. He moved closer, took hold of Francis’ penis and looked up at Francis in the mirror.
“You’ll need to hold it tighter…” Francis told him, “... much tighter… now try and…”
“Well, well, well… What have we here?”
Francis and Christopher froze when they heard Cindy’s voice behind them.
“I thought I heard your voice, Francis,” Cindy added as she looked admiringly at the bare bottom of Francis.
Another voice called up, to which Cindy replied: “It’s okay, mum… just Francis and Christopher.”
Francis nearly fainted… Mrs Harper! That’s all he needed. If anyone was going to tell his mum what he was doing… you can bet Mrs Harper would!
Meanwhile Christopher’s fingers were still holding tightly onto Francis’ penis.
The two boys, while still standing in front of the mirror, had their heads turned, looking back over their shoulders at Cindy.
“What are you boys up to?” she asked, although she could see perfectly well what Francis and Christopher were doing reflected in the mirror.
“Um… we were just… um trying on our Red Indian costumes,” Francis replied, “... weren’t we Christopher? Christopher was helping me put mine on… weren’t you Christopher?”
Christopher nodded and mumbled his agreement.
“It looks as though your loincloth is a wee bit too small, Francis… Christopher doesn’t seem able to cover your penis with the flap…” Cindy said, “Would you like me to try?”
Christopher turned his head back to look at himself in the mirror. Realised Cindy could see where his hand was and whipped it away from Francis’ penis as quickly as he could, even though he knew Cindy had seen what he’d been doing.
“Um… no… we’re okay, Cindy… really we are,” Francis said anxiously, afraid of what Cindy might say to Mrs Harper.
“Are you sure you’ve got the right loincloth, Francis?” Cindy asked, “It looks way too small from where I’m standing…” Having said that Cindy walked across the bedroom to where the boys were in front of the mirror. It looked for all the world as if Francis and Christopher were glued to the spot. Both boys were horrified to be found out and terrified of the consequences.
“Honestly…” Cindy sighed, “You’re wearing David’s tenderfoot loincloth, Francis… Your penis is far too big to wear with such a tiny little thing like this…”
Francis gave Cindy a sort of gormless, ‘jeez, how’d that happen?’ expression, which disguised nothing and just made him feel stupid in front of Cindy, a girl who was after all almost the same age as himself.
Cindy on the other hand, thought his expression made Francis look ‘cute’… a word designed to curdle the blood of any teenage boy.
“I think mum ought to see this…” Cindy said teasingly.
“NO!!” Francis was shocked at the idea, “Please Cindy…”
“Why ever not? Mum will be thrilled you’re taking an interest in your Red Indian costumes. I’m sure she’ll want to see how you’re getting on…”
“Please Cindy…” Francis pleaded.
“What ought mum to see?” Mrs Harper said from the doorway where she was standing.
“Oh… oh, Mrs Harper… we… um, Christopher and I…. we were trying on our Red Indian outfits,” Francis tried to explain.
“Was it necessary to take off all your clothes, Francis?” Mrs Harper asked, making Francis feel more embarrassed than ever, “We all know why Christopher has no clothes to put on… but I fail to understand…”
“I… I… thought…” Francis attempted to answer Mrs Harper, but to do so without giving away any secrets proved impossible.
“I think the boys simply couldn’t wait until the next game,” Cindy said, offering her own explanation, “You know what boys are like, mum… I expect Francis wouldn’t feel right putting on his Red Indian loincloth unless he stripped totally nude first…”
Cindy was making Francis feel like a little boy and he shivered with embarrassment as he stood in front of them. His penis was still obscenely rampant and he still couldn’t think of any plausible excuse for wanting to put on the tiniest loincloth imaginable.
Just then the phone rang and Mrs Harper went to answer it on the upstairs extension. It wasn’t long before she returned.
“That was your mother, Francis…” Mrs Harper said, then added ominously, “I was obliged to tell her precisely what has occurred. She expressed a wish to speak to you directly you returned home.”
Even with this news Francis’ penis remained stubbornly erect.
“We weren’t doing anything… honestly, Mrs Harper,” Francis said as he began to plead their innocence, “Christopher and I just thought we’d try on our costumes… and… and they must have got mixed up… so I put on Christopher’s, or rather David’s tenderfoot loincloth, by mistake…”
Christopher nodded and agreed it had all been a silly mistake.
“That’s probably why Christopher was trying to help Francis with the loincloth flap,” Cindy said with an innocent air.
“Excuse me, Cindy… exactly in what way was Christopher helping?” Mrs Harper asked.
“Christopher was gripping Francis’ penis and trying to tuck it under the loincloth flap…” Cindy explained.
“But I should’ve thought it was obvious there was little point in trying to do that with Francis in such an advanced state of penile arousal… which I observe it still is…”
“Oh, mummy… you don’t think Francis and Christopher were…” Cindy paused for effect, “masturbating?”
Both boys simultaneously pleaded their innocence, but their cause was somewhat undermined by the persistence of their erections.
“I can’t speak for Francis,” Mrs Harper said, interrupting the boys, “but Cindy you know as well as I do that Christopher doesn’t indulge himself that way. He told me so himself that he doesn’t masturbate…”
“Please Mr Harper, we only wanted to try on our Red Indian outfits,” Francis interjected, “I’m sorry we both got… um, excited… but Christopher and me...” Francis paused slightly… he knew he had to say something plausible and so he said the first thing he thought of… instantly regretting it as he spoke the words, “Christopher and me couldn’t wait for the next game of Cowboys and Indians…”
Christopher couldn’t believe what he just heard Francis say. Was he mad?! He looked askance at the older boy. Yes, he just heard Francis say how they were both eager to play another of Terry’s humiliating games!
“Well I’m pleased to hear you say so, Francis,” Mrs Harper said brightly, “I’m sure your mother will want to know how enthusiastic you are… so enthusiastic that you couldn’t wait to dress in your costume with Christopher…”
Francis would rather these words didn’t get back to his mum. He was reminded she had already been told about what he’d been up to with Christopher and knew also she’d put a different interpretation on these events.
“Well, if you’ve finished dressing up,” Mrs Harper said, “You’d better put your clothes back on, Francis and get off back home. I know your mother is anxious to have a little talk with you.”
With that, Mrs Harper turned to her daughter and asked Cindy to come back downstairs to help her with something downstairs. This left the boys alone once more.
“What did you have to go and say that for?” Christopher spluttered indignantly, “I don’t care if I never play another game of Cowboys and Indians…”
“Um… yes… well… I couldn’t think what else to say,” Francis apologised, “Besides… I couldn’t very well say how we were going to have a wank, could I?”
“Suppose not…” Christopher conceded.
“Jeez… two weeks is a long time without a wank though,” Francis said sympathetically, “We really should try and do something about that… maybe meet up somewhere…”
“There’s not much chance of that,” Christopher sulked, “I’m hardly left alone for long enough… and besides, where can I go without any clothes? It’s not much fun being bare all the time…”
“Let me give it some thought,” Francis said as he finished getting dressed, “There must be a way for us to sneak off on our own… what about…”
“If you’re thinking about another game of Cowboys and Indians with Terry…” Christopher spluttered when he realised what Francis was going to suggest, “... then you’re bonkers!”
“... but it’s got to be worth a try,” Francis argued, “It’s the only time you get to wear anything for a start… and if I can get away from my sisters,” Francis could see Christopher looked doubtful, “Come on… why not… what have we got to lose?”
Christopher sighed: “Plenty…”
The day wasn’t over. When Francis returned home he saw Sarah and Sam sat on stools at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He could tell straight away they knew something, but didn’t have time to attempt to interrogate them before his mother called out. She was in his bedroom.
“In here, Francis... NOW!”
It didn’t need a genius to work out that Francis was in trouble. From the moment he walked into his bedroom Mrs Park berated him for the state of his room, the piles of clothes, his unmade bed, his unfinished chores, his bad school reports and a host of other duties Francis had neglected.
“What have I told you about keeping your room tidy? Don’t bother to close the door... this room could do with some fresh air…”
As she said this Mrs Park stepped over to the window and flung it wide open. This made Francis feel very nervous. Now, not only would Sarah and Sam be able to hear everything that happened, but anyone passing outside would too!
“Sorry, mum… I really am, honest,” Francis apologised, “I’ll sort it out…”
“That’s what you say every time, Francis… and it’s not good enough. I’m fed up with your behaviour… and now I hear from Mrs Harper that you’ve been up to no good over at her house…”
“... but… mum, I wasn’t doing anything…”
“That’s not what Mrs Harper told me…”
“But mum… me and Christopher… we were just trying on our loincloths…” Francis was feeling very uneasy. He wasn’t sure what Mrs Harper had told his mum, but he was sure he was about to find out.
“Hmmph! Mrs Harper told me that you had taken all your clothes off and were completely nude… as was Christopher…”
“... but Christopher hasn’t got any clothes to wear… and… and we weren’t nude… we had on our loincloths!” Francis said, doing his best to defend himself.
Outside the bedroom Sarah and Sam were listening to what was being said. The girls lapped it up and were both utterly convinced Francis wouldn’t escape with just a scolding, however severe that might turn out to be. Sam stifled a giggle at the thought of her older brother and Christopher playing dress-up with their little Red Indian loincloths.
“Yes, Mrs Harper told me about that,” mum said, “... but I’d like to hear your version, Francis.”
“I… I don’t know what you mean, mum…”
“I’m sure you do, Francis,” mum persisted, “nevertheless I will remind you…”
Francis knew his mother was at her most dangerous when she talked like this and he knew the outcome would be unpleasant.
“Mrs Harper told me that you and Christopher swapped loincloths so that you were wearing… and it seems I need to use that word loosely… a Red Indian outfit made for a much younger boy… a tenderfoot brave, I believe they’re called…”
Outside even Sarah now struggled to control herself and she covered her mouth with both hands as she sniggered.
“... and both you boys were observed to have penises that were fully erect…”
Francis hung his head in shame as his mother continued her tirade.
“Cindy said you boys were masturbating!”
This was too much for Francis and he blurted out his innocence: “We weren’t, mum… honest, we weren’t!”
“Then would you mind telling me why Christopher was holding your penis?”
“Christopher… he… he was helping me with the Red Indian outfit…” Francis said as he tried to make it sound convincing.
“A likely story,” Mrs Park huffed.
“But it’s true, mum… we were only trying on our Red Indian loincloths… and… and when Christopher saw me… um, saw I couldn’t get it to fit properly… Christopher offered to help and that’s when Cindy saw us…”
“... masturbating…” mum prompted.
“But we weren’t… doing it…” Francis pleaded.
“I don’t believe a word of what you say, Francis… Mrs Harper told me that Christopher, unlike you, has not succumbed to the habit of self-abuse. Christopher, Mrs Harper tells me, has remained pure in thought and deed… something you, Francis would benefit from aspiring to…”
“It is my opinion,” Mrs Park continued, “that you were attempting to corrupt young Christopher and that is why you chose to wear that silly little tenderfoot loincloth which you knew was totally unsuitable for a boy your age, because it gave you an excuse to urge Christopher to touch your penis…”
Francis was stunned and stood with his mouth open in front of his mother. Outside his room Sarah and Sam could hardly contain themselves… these was even better than either of them had hoped. They were pretty sure mum was wrong about Christopher though. What they’d witnessed on the day of the game of Cowboys and Indians led them to believe Christopher was desperate to join in and fire his rifle just like the other boys and they were sure he would have done had Ben and Terry not tied his hands behind his back so quickly.
“Mum… that’s not true!!” Francis wailed, “It was an accident… I didn’t mean…”
“What? To have an erect penis so that you could encourage Christopher to play with it?”
“NO! That’s not what happened… Christopher had an erection too…”
“... and why was that? I’ve no doubt it was because you encouraged him… Did you encourage Christopher to have an erection?”
Francis did his best to deny that he and Christopher were up to no good, but it was no use and mum decided on a ‘family conference’ in the front room. The words made Francis go weak at the knees. He pleaded and pleaded, but mum was having none of it, Francis was told to present himself in the front room in fifteen minutes… wearing his full Red Indian outfit!
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