Memoirs of a Voluptuary, or the Secret Life of an English Boarding School

CHAPTER I. A REPRISAL AND A STUDY IN FLAGELLATION

At the close of the first volume of my memoirs, I found that there were many more tales to recount and decided to continue in my efforts to pen my nostalgic recollections.

It may be objected that my memory could not possibly be sufficient enough to write a truthful journal of what happened a considerable number of years ago. This would be perfectly true were I to attempt to proceed in portraying the events of my earlier years from day to day; but in regards to what I have already written, I am able to vouch for it's entire correctness. The doings and happenings of my first weeks at school being impressed upon my memory with remarkable clarity.

In respect to Gaston de Beaupre's tales, it will probably be thought, how can I retain such a precise remembrance of these as would be necessary if they are not to be regarded as figments of my own imagination? In answer to this charge I readily admit that no doubt the words and phrases have undergone some changes in the course of transcription by me, but I have endeavored to retain as far as my mind will serve me on looking back, the general style of the narration as he delivered them to us.

When I left off in my first volume, I had made mention of some unpleasant lads going by the names Davenport and Lawrence and often enough followed by Davenport Junior in giggling tow. These lads had taken it upon themselves to make the lives of some of the other boys in their dormitory quite unpleasant, and as I have recounted, I too was at times the object of their cruel play.

The next day being Saturday and a half holiday, Bob Rutherford (being the eldest and therefore the leader of my bedchamber quartet, which also included the young Duke Jimmy Marmot, and the aforementioned Gaston de Beaupre or “Blackie” as we fondly called him, as well as myself, Charlie Powerscourt) proposed as we were dressing that we should go as far as the sea, which was only a matter of about two miles and a half from the school. We all greeted the suggestion with warm approval, and I especially looked forward to it, as I had never had an opportunity of looking upon the ocean.

During the morning we met Williams and asked him if anything had happened in his dormitory the night before.

“Davenport started on Elgar again,” he replied. “He tied his hands behind his back and made him stand up against the fireplace with nothing on till we had all undressed, and then he and Lawrence began to take turns tweaking his cock and balls. And I mean to say they were not going gently! I called out to them to leave Elgar alone and then they were coming for me, but I said that if they touched me, I would shout until someone came, and that stopped them.

“They knew that they would get into a bother if anyone found them out and seeing that they were a bit startled, I got up and ran to the door. I held this open and told Benson to go and loosen Elgar and put him to bed. Davenport got into a towering rage and called me names, but I didn't care, only telling him that if he tried any more nonsense, I would go straight to Chadwick and bring him in, as we had made up our minds not to put up with his bullying any longer, or let him keep on pitching into Elgar.

“He got quite white with passion, but Lawrence slunk back to bed and advised him to do the same, so we had our own way, and Elgar got some peace for the rest of the night.”

“You did splendidly,” exclaimed Bob. “You are a brick, Williams. If you go on like that, you won't have any more trouble with Davenport. But I am going to talk to him myself this evening and that will settle it once and for all.”

We had arranged to start away for the sea directly after lunch, but before leaving I saw Williams again. He had his cap on and I asked him where he was going.

“Davenport said he was going for a walk with Lawrence, and he told Sturges, Benson, Elgar and me that he should want us to come as well. He was very cunning and mentioned the thing to Mr. Chadwick. However, Davenport seemed nicer somehow to us all at once, and he actually told Elgar he hoped he hadn't hurt him with his games. I don't know what has come over him, but perhaps he sees that he has been going it a little too strong. I hope so, anyway, as I am sure we don't want to make any bother, and if he only played ordinary jokes on us, we wouldn't say a word.”

“I shall be awfully glad if you are right,” I said, “although it might be that he has got an inkling of Rutherford's being about to take the matter up.”

“I heard Davenport say something about the sea, but I am not quite sure,” Williams told us.

“Really,” I exclaimed. “That's where we are going. Perhaps we might see you then.”

Shortly after this, we set out for our walk, striking across the fields and through the woodlands in a direct course for the sea. It was a beautifully clear day at the end of May, the air was quite hot and everything breathed of summer in this favored part of the land.

The trees were in full leaf, the meadows were sheets of wild flowers and our ears were filled with the songs of the birds and the babbling music of the many brooks for which “Fair Devon” is noted.

Bright colored moths and butterflies, flitted and hovered before us, and the multitudinous sights and sounds of the country broke in upon me with a pleasurable effect, which combined with the happy freedom of the moment, the joy of existence forced itself upon my consciousness more keenly than it had ever done before and I raised my voice in a merry, lilting song.

“Charlie is in good spirits today, isn't he,” cried Jimmy.

“Yes,” replied Bob, with a smile, “but he had better be careful how he airs his notes, or Mr. Percival will be capturing him for the chair.”

On we went, trudging through the long grass and picking our way amid the moss-grown trunks of the trees, until our further progress was barred by a rivulet too broad for us to leap. We walked slowly along the bank, seeking a convenient place to cross without getting wet.

“There are a lot of fish in here, I am sure,” said Jimmy, climbing out on a fern draped boulder that overhung the stream and peering into the crystal depths below.

We looked but only caught the reflection of the Duke's mirrored face on the placid surface of the water.

“All that I can see down there, is you, Jimmy,” said Bob. “I say, you chaps, he looks just like that fellow we were reading about in the class the other day – Narcissus, you know; who caught sight of his face in a river once, and thought himself so pretty that he couldn't take his eyes away, and fell in and got drowned!”

“Shut your mouth, you ass!” replied Jimmy, trying to look annoyed. “There you are; I told you there were some fish here; I can see lots.”

“Well, it doesn't matter,” exclaimed de Beaupre “we haven't got anything to catch them with, so they can stop.”

Not very much farther on, the stream narrowed and there were big stones in it which enabled us to cross easily. The ground began to rise towards the cliffs which faced the sea, but Bob took us through a path leading into a picturesque, winding gorge, carpeted with short grass and decked with a profusion of creepers and shrubs, down which a tiny river ran in a succession of little waterfalls and rapids on its way to the ocean. It turned at the end and we emerged straight for the shore.

Before us stretched the broad expanse of the sea, its deep blue surface agitated by a gentle ripple and shining bright beneath the beams of the afternoon sun.

Behind rose a tall bulwark of perpendicular cliffs, their scarped and rugged surface ornamented with a drapery of lichens and climbing plants, which found foothold in every nook and cranny.

I had caught the sea in one of its gayest humors and, as I bathed my hands in the frothing white water, I found it hard to conceive that it had its terrible moods too, although I knew that at times this coast was subject to fearful storms, and the great foam capped billows rushed in with a force that threatened to lay low the proud rocks themselves.

My comrades laughed good humouredly at my new found pleasure and I followed them slowly along the edge of the water, noting with interest the many varieties of sea weed and shells that strewed the sands, the little crabs that scuttled away at our approach as fast as their tiny feet would carry them and all the strange marine plants and animals that I now encountered for the first time.

Arriving at last at a miniature bay or inlet, in front of which a line of sunken rocks formed a natural breakwater, Jimmy proposed a swim.

“It would be just splendid,” he said. “It is not a bit cold and it would be the first bath of the season.

“But we have no towels or bathing dresses!” I objected.

“What does that matter?” replied the Duke. “We can easily run about and get dry, and as for bathing dresses, there is no one else about – and I suppose you don't mind us seeing you,” he added, with a laugh at me.

I smiled in turn and there being no further opposition, the proposal was carried. Slowly and deliberately, as if by silent and mutual consent, the four of us set to pulling away individual articles of clothing from our bodies. Bob spread wide the open front of his breeches, exposing the great mound of his pubic region pushing through the fork of his undershorts, and then he pulled his fine white shirt up and over the grand expanse of his lovely chest. Jimmy lay upon the sand to slide his pants down over his hips and legs, revealing his white inner thighs and the pouch of his genitals with lascivious glee. De Beaupre slid his simmering, nude olive flesh from his clothing as if it were the most natural act in the world, and he stretched naked in the afternoon sunlight, his every muscle tightening and standing out in bas-relief before receding ever so slightly into their normal state of definition. My cheeks reddened just a bit when I realized that my own removal of clothing unveiled a cockstand of respectable size and quality.

“What ho!” said Bob. “To the breakers!”

“Avast ye mateys!” cried Blackie. “There be treasure in the surf!”

“To arms!” I cried, and joined my three glowingly naked companions in a charge for the brilliant and glistening ocean.

Soon we were splashing to our heart's content in the sea, and throwing showers of water over each other in high spirits. Together we spent long moments wrestling about in the salty spray. Bob and I took to the Duke in the shallows, the water lapping at our behinds, the hanging ends of our cocks dipping into the warm, buoyant liquid as we laughed and struggled.

It would have been extremely difficult not to notice de Beaupre as he swam languidly about us. With our pale skin and awkward demeanor, Jimmy, Bob and I were strangers to the sea. Blackie, his smooth and streamlined body cutting through the waves, his long, jet black hair slicked perfectly behind him, his flesh already kissed by a warmer and far more loving sun than hung o'er England, looked to be born of the sea. Though I stayed at play with Bob and the Duke, my frequent glances and naughty thoughts caressed de Beaupre's body as the water itself.

We came out before we had time to get too chilled, and I marveled at the breasts and flanks of my companions as the water sluiced from their every crevice and dripped from the hair at their necks, from under their arms, and from their pubic regions. After the bath, we took to running races on the level sands and the exertion, united with the effects of the sun, soon dried our skins. We lay upon some rocks letting the sun warm our nude bodies.

“I think we owe something to Jimmy for his suggestion,” said Bob sitting up. “We should have missed a treat if we had not had that swim.”

“I am glad that you have recognized my good qualities for once,” returned Jimmy. “But I say,” he added, “doesn't the sea water shrivel one's cock up! Just look at mine, you can hardly see it!”

“You haven't got much to shrivel up, Jimmy,” retorted Bob. “But never mind, I dare say it will grow in time. And really, I cannot see that it is much smaller than usual!”

“You needn't talk, Bob. I can see that your's is just the same. Why, mine is three times as big as this generally; just look!”

Jimmy pressed himself forward for Bob's inspection, holding his cock between his finger and thumb. As Rutherford bent over to make believe that he had to get very close in order to observe it at all, he popped Jimmy's cock right into his mouth.

“That should warm me up!” exclaimed Jimmy, stretching out against the rough surface of the warm boulder as Bob was leaning over him and continuing to suck his cock.

The sight inspired my own organ to twitch back to life, and I looked mischievously toward de Beaupre, who was laying on his belly in the sunlight, the warmth of the sun drying his skin a deep golden hue. I stopped for a moment to admire the fine shape of his muscular buttocks, made more picaresque by the lovely seaside surroundings. He lay with his head of shining black curls resting on his arm, his eyes closed and his full lips parted slightly in a state of utter relaxation. His body seemed to fairly drink in the sun's rays.

I warily crept to his side and when I was upon him, I ran my hand over the fine smooth flesh of his buttocks. His lids flew open in surprise, but he soon closed them again and simply sighed with pleasure at my stolen caresses. I amused myself stroking his buttocks for a time, all the while my own cock, which had shrunken quite in the cool ocean breeze, was warming with excitement under the sun and influence of Gaston de Beaupre's alluring naked body.

Abandoning myself to sensuous indulgence, I climbed to my knees and leaned over to press both my hands against Blackie's shoulders, near where his smooth neck met with the bone of his collar. The muscles of his shoulders were round and firm, and ever so pleasing to the touch. I squeezed them, and straddling him in such a way as my rapidly engorging penis came to perch upon the crevice of his bottom, I began to massage his back. Extending my fingers, pressing the palms of my hands into the flesh and musculature which spread to either side of his spine, I gradually worked my way both up and down, all the while stimulating my cock with a sliding motion to and fro along the crack of Blackie's firm ass.

“Oh, Charlie!” he said sleepily, “do give me a fuck!”

How could I possibly resist such a tantalizing offer? Immediately I moved behind Blackie and whispered for him to rise up on his haunches, fearing he would scrape his delectable cock on the rough surface of the boulder.

But he sat up rather quickly and replied, “I've got a grand idea!” and with that, he jumped up and led me back down to the softer sand, just where the ocean was moistening the shore with its gentle lapping waves.

He bent down and quickly dug a little hole and then, to my bewilderment, lined it with a bit of wet seaweed. Promptly he flung himself upon the damp sand and placed his cock in the hole.

“Now Charlie!” he laughed, smiling at me over his shoulder.

Delighted with the idea, made more enticing by the mild spray of ocean mist that lightly dappled our bodies, I fell to my task at once. I got behind Blackie and began to rub my cock back and forward between the cleft of his tight little buttocks. My cock was now achingly erect, and the wondrous sensation of touching Blackie's flesh combined with the ocean water, which came to greet our bodies, served as a natural lubricator. I slowly introduced the top of my engorged member to the puckered little rose of his anus, which he so pleasantly offered up for my pleasure. The feeling of his tight sphincter muscles grasping at my cock enticed me to push forward.

“Oh yes Charlie,” Groaned Blackie, who had started to squirm and writhe under my initial entry.

I took hold of either side of his narrow hips and, gaining leverage, I began to thrust my cock deeper and deeper into his asshole. I felt wonderfully liberated; naked rocking to and fro as I slowly entered Blackie, finally succeeding in getting it in to the hilt. My pubic hair brushed the tender flesh of his ass as it grazed the skin when I pumped my own hips against his. I leaned forward to feel the flesh of his warm muscular back against my own chest and nipples which were painfully erect from the effects of the chilly sea water. I continued to pump faster and faster, and Blackie, to my surprise and delight, was pumping his cock into the well lined hole in the sand!

With every one of my jerks towards his bottom, my cock was rhythmically met with his own thrusts. I arched back and felt the beginnings of a wonderfully explosive pleasure which traveled up from the back of my thighs, tingling and gripping my balls and cock and finally filling my head with intoxicating pleasure. I sped up my thrusts and it seemed as though my cock was fairly being burned by the heat that Gaston's hot little hole was surrounding my member with.

“I'm coming!” I moaned. “Oh Gaston, I am coming!” I gasped and thrust forward once more, shooting my hot white spunk into Blackie's depths. I heard him groan, and felt him stiffen and shudder beneath me as he shot his own come into the earth. I fell forward and embraced my dear friend who had afforded me such great pleasure.

When at last we separated, we reclined side by side on the warm sand further up the beach. I sat up on my elbows to look where Jimmy and Bob were on the rocks. I laughed as I saw my two other close companions locked in an erotic soixante neuf position in the golden sunlight that fell on the rocks, their fair bodies dazzling in the late afternoon sunset.

Gaston and I took great pleasure in watching them from afar, and when at last their appetites had been sated, we approached the boulders and climbed up to join our friends.

This little diversion over, we sat about dressing in earnest and started on our journey again, making for a point not far distant, where Bob said there was another gorge leading inland.

“You can get any amount of bird's eggs there,” said Bob as we went along. “Thompson and I made quite a fine collection between us; I've got a case full at home now. We had one or two narrow squeaks too, in climbing about.”

We had nearly got to the point which Bob had indicated, when on rounding a buttress in the cliffs, we spied a group of boys who were assembled just within the mouth of a rather large cavern.

“Look!” exclaimed Bob, motioning to us to halt. “Isn't that Davenport there?”

“Yes,” I cried. “Williams told me that Davenport had notified all the chaps in their dormitory that they wished their company this afternoon, and he said he thought they were going to the beach.”

“That's them, right enough,” said Jimmy. “There's Williams in front and I can see Sturges, Benson, Elgar and Davenport Junior are just behind. “I say, can't we give them just a little surprise?”

“Here is an opportunity for revenge, Charlie,” said Bob. “They've fallen right into our hands.”

“What a lark,” exclaimed Jimmy, throwing his cap up in the air and catching it again. “What shall we do, Bob?”

De Beaupre pulled Bob's arm, and drew from his pocket a box of paints which he was in the habit of using for sketching purposes sometimes, having a little talent in that direction.

“The very thing,” said Bob, pouncing upon it. “Charlie, you shall have payment with interest for all that Davenport and Lawrence owe you. Now, let's have at them.”

“What are they doing?” said Jimmy, watching the group attentively. “Look, they've got Benson down and it looks nasty.”

Peering cautiously 'round the corner, we saw that this was the case. Lawrence, that wicked smirk of his fairly plastered 'cross his pimply face, was holding the smaller, frailer Benson up by his wrists as Davenport set to work ripping Benson's shirt open and undoing the fastenings on the poor boy's pants. Letting fly with a rain of verbal taunts and vicious pokings and pinchings, Davenport had certainly returned to his element. He was being every bit as mean as he'd ever been to me, and memories of the various humiliations he had thrust upon me – how he'd caught me in the classroom alone and had his chums pull down my pants and spank me that first week of school, and how he'd gotten fat Williams to bugger me after Lawrence had wrestled me to the ground in the supply closet shortly thereafter – all came rushing back.

Davenport was pinching poor Benson's nipples and belly till they were quite bruised, and then he proceeded to shove his hand into the younger man's shorts in order to pull out his small and shriveled cock.

“Please, no!” cried Benson. “Don't do that; you are hurting me.”

“Be brave and have a heart,” chastised Davenport. “All we're about to do is have ourselves a bit of a frig, that's all, Benson. Or haven't you ever done it to yourself before? Now shut up and take it like a man!”

Though Benson whimpered and struggled, his pleas were ignored and he was held fast, and before too long, he achieved an admirable cockstand despite himself under Davenport's rough handling.

“Well, I have seen more than quite enough,” exclaimed Bob. “We needn't wait here any longer. Let's go straight up to them. Charlie and I will take Davenport and you two can manage Lawrence. We needn't worry about the others; they won't interfere and in fact, they'll be only too pleased to see the tables turned.

“Now walk slowly. Don't make a rush and they'll never suspect anything till we have them nicely. This is going to be a bit of fun. Wait a minute, have we got anything that we could tie them up with? That would be still better.”

“Yes,” replied Jimmy.” I've got a couple of little straps in my pocket that will be just the thing for their hands. And your and Blackie's belts, Bob, they're leather, and they will do splendidly for their legs. Won't it be glorious,” he added, rubbing his hands gleefully at the prospect. “They'll be just like a pair of trussed turkey cocks.”

“Come on then,” said Bob, and we boldly rounded the corner and made straight for the little crowd.

“Hullo,” shouted Rutherford as we approached. “Where have you chaps sprung from? Who would have thought of meeting you here? I fancied we had the whole beach to ourselves.”

They roused themselves as we advanced and Davenport and Lawrence released Benson, who hurriedly buttoned up his breeches.

“We thought we'd like some sea air this afternoon, the same as you, I suppose,” said Davenport in answer to Rutherford.

“Yes,” continued Bob, “it is a great treat to get to the seaside after having been boxed up in the country for some time, isn't it?”

Davenport laughed and Lawrence joined in with his idiotic giggle. “We were just having a look at Benson's pretty little cock when you came up,” said the elder boy.

“So I could see,” returned Bob. “I say, Davenport, I don't believe you and Lawrence have ever shown us yours. You seem to have been having a display in that vein; suppose you oblige us now.”

I had placed myself by Davenport's side, awaiting the signal for attack. As Bob spoke, he caught Davenport by the shoulders and pulled him backwards, while at the same instant I seized him around the legs and gripped with all my force.

Jimmy and de Beaupre had meanwhile dashed upon Lawrence with equal success. The suddenness of our actions had taken them by surprise, and having had no chance for resistance, they were helpless in our grasp and sprawling on their backs like two turtles.

Davenport made one last furious effort, exclaiming, “Shut up, Rutherford; don't fool about!” but Bob did not trouble to vouchsafe a reply and brought all his superior strength to play. In a few minutes we succeeded in securely fastening our captives' wrists together with the strap. This done, it was a work of little trouble to pass his belt 'round Davenport's ankles and buckle it tightly.

This left us free to go to the assistance of Blackie and the Duke who, although they were able to hold Lawrence firmly, had not yet been successful in tying him. With our aid, however, this was short work, and in very quick time, the two lay bound hand and foot and completely at our mercy.

The other chaps had stood looking on all this time without saying a word, but evidently not at all displeased at the new turn affairs had taken.

“These chaps have had a monopoly of this cocking business up to now,” said Bob, with an exasperating smile at the prisoners. “It is only right that there should be a little variety sometimes. I'm sure you have no objection, Davenport, nor you either, Lawrence, have you?”

“You have taken us at a disadvantage,” cried Davenport angrily. “These straps are hurting too!”

“Oh no,” said Bob, “I'm sure that is only your fancy. Well, are you quite ready? If so, we will go on.”

Davenport knitted his brow and bit his lips, but Rutherford still kept the same calm and slightly mocking smile on his lips.

“It's very kind of you, really, to give us this opportunity,” continued Bob. “However, we won't keep you any longer in suspense. Let's start with you, Davenport!”

He leisurely knelt and proceeded to loosen Davenport's clothing, while Lawrence frowned with vexation. He could do absolutely nothing, however, and had to submit with the best grace he could, while Bob, who was determined to make a thorough job of his undertaking, pulled his captor's trousers down to his knees and turned up his shirt, exposing his flaccid prick.

Davenport went a deep red to the roots of his hair, as we all gathered to have a look at him. He was not a particularly well made fellow, being rather thin in proportion to his height, and his limbs were loose-jointed and angular. His cock was long and slender with a disproportionately oblong and misshaped head, and his balls, which were fairly large, hung flabbily beneath.

“There you are, you chaps,” said Bob, glancing at Elgar and the others, “You had better have a good look now that you have the chance.” Bob tweaked Davenport's cock forward and the later cried out.

They pressed forward, doing their best to hide their amused faces and adding greatly to Davenport's chagrin. Williams boldly took hold of his cock in order to examine it better, and pressed the skin back sharply, causing the owner to utter a sharp ejaculation.

“Stop it, Williams! Or you'll be sorry!” he shouted.

“It's all right Davenport; don't get excited,” exclaimed Bob. “You'll forgive Williams afterwards, I know. Besides, it is only tit for tat.”

When the others had satisfied their curiosity, Bob begged them to clear away.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Davenport, with some misgiving.

“Not much,” replied Bob, “I'm only just going to decorate you a little.”

“Look here,” bellowed Davenport, “I'm not going to stand any more. Just let me go and don't fool about.”

“Oh come, Davenport, you are not going to chuck up like that, are you?” continued Bob with an irritating look of entreaty. “You ought to thank us for trying to improve your appearance, as I'm sure you will when we are finished. Now please keep quite still. Be sure and don't move or you will spoil the effect.”

De Beaupre fetched a little water in a shell in order to mix the paints, and then Bob proceed to display his command of the brush on Davenport. The latter lay with hot cheeks and eyes burning with helpless fury, unable to move.

All he could do was to grind his teeth while Rutherford went on to ornament his belly and thighs with rosettes and spots and fanciful designs in vermillion, green and indigo. His task took some little time, but when it was finished, he stood up and we all drew 'round to see the result, while Davenport almost collapsed at this humiliation before those whom he had been accustomed to lord it over.

He certainly presented a ludicrous spectacle, the various hues standing out in startling relief against his pale skin, while Bob had even circled his cock with bands of different colors.

“My word, doesn't he look pretty!” said Rutherford. “I feel I have been wasting my time heretofore. I ought to have been an artist, and I am certain I should get into the Royal Academy.”

There was a sally of laughter at this, which made Davenport go still more scarlet, but he said never a word.

“That will do for him, I think,” said Rutherford. “We will go and see Lawrence now, or he will be getting annoyed at being left out in the cold.”

We accordingly left Davenport to his reflections and turned towards Lawrence, who had been indeed all this time a not unamused witness of his comrade's sufferings. He did not display the deep annoyance which Davenport had evidenced, as we bestowed similar attentions upon him, but treated the affair more or less as a joke, laughing a good deal in his aimless way as Bob engaged himself in drawing little patterns on his body with the paint brush.

In spite of his being a tolerably big chap, and not so many months younger than Davenport, his cock was short, although thick. The tickling effects of the brush were too much for Lawrence and his cock refused to hang down in a becoming manner but wobbled about, half stiff. Bob administered sundry little touches to it when opportunity offered, in a sly attempt to increase its erection, so that when Bob stood back to admire his own handiwork and we all stood in a semi-circle about Lawrence, his member lay straight along his belly pointing towards his navel.

“What a shame to waste such a whale of a cockstand, hey gentlemen?” said Bob, yet another scheme already hatching in that swift and effervescent mind of his.

“But it would be a worse shame still to ruin your beautiful painting in lending that sallow chap a rub, wouldn't it?” added Jimmy.

“Hmm,” said Rutherford, “you do have a point, Duke. Perhaps the worldly Gaston has a solution to this dilemma. And it must be a quick one, as it seems young Lawrence's flag rides down its mast already.”

“Yes indeed, perhaps I do,” grinned Blackie as he stepped closer to the prone and nude junior Davenport. “While visiting with some of my more Bohemian acquaintances in Paris, I chanced upon a most peculiar method of artistic expression which I feel may have a special application here this afternoon. You see, the painter dips his foot in his color of choice…”

De Beaupre proceeded to dip his sandy foot into Bob's shell of paint and hopped gracefully to Lawrence's side, where he then pushed his dripping toes onto the bound young man's cock, ”…and voila!”

“Superior artistry!” I cried, as Blackie ran his foot messily up and down the shaft of Lawrence's member. In seconds we were all upon him, our toes squishing into the paint and then onto the groaning boy's groin. How we laughed when Lawrence finally came with a moan and a series of sharp squirts of spend into the tangled mass of our many-colored toes and his own freshly dyed and matted pubic hair.

After allowing us to enjoy the spectacle a little longer, Bob considered that we had done enough and gave the orders for the prisoners to be released. Lawrence immediately went to a little pool of water not far off and, damping his handkerchief, proceeded to clean himself, exhibiting no trace of annoyance as he did so. But Davenport's pride had suffered a severe blow and he looked very black browed and sullen as he went to follow Lawrence's example.

“I don't think we shall hear any more of Davenport trying to 'come it' over the other chaps,” said Jimmy.

“He's had a proper setback. My eyes, what a figure he did cut – all green and red and blue; and what a sight his ugly, skinny cock was after the way you painted it, Bob. He's had such a take down he'll never get over it.”

We all laughed at the recollection and Bob said, “Yes, it was rather a joke, wasn't it? And it has done some good too, I think, for it has taught him his proper place.”

We dismissed the subject from our minds and turned to pleasanter themes.

We turned and made our way back inland, enjoying the beautiful scenery made more dramatic by the setting sun.