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THE HUNTING SEASON

By Pink Panther

Please remember that all the usual disclaimers apply. This chapter is rather more low-key than some of the recent ones, but please stay with it. The next one will be much livelier!

Sad to report that feedback for the last chapter was very sparse. I know I”m probably paranoid, but it makes me wonder whether there”s anyone still reading! So please send your comments ail and I”ll reply as soon as I can.

And please don”t forget the donations, which are essential if we are going to keep Nifty as a free site. You know it makes sense!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

January 1960

It was Monday afternoon. Michael, along with his friends, made his way to the pavilion for First Year games. He wasn”t dreading it the way he usually did. Today”s games class would be taken up with the First Year Cross-Country Championship. It wasn”t that he liked distance running, simply that he disliked it less than football.

There were other bonuses too. He hadn”t had to bring his football boots, so his bag was lighter than it usually was on a Monday. And although he wasn”t very good, there were more than a few boys who were considerably worse. But best of all, the race would only last around fifteen minutes � somewhat less for those who were actually good at it � and that would be all they”d be required to do.

As far as the school was concerned, the most important aspect of the race was the team competition, in which the four forms, Blue, Green, Red and White, would compete. Although all the boys were required to run, only the first eight from each form would count towards their team”s score.

This suited Michael perfectly. There were at least a dozen boys in 1-Green who were better than he was, so it wouldn”t matter how he ran. He could trot around at a comfortable pace without anyone accusing him of letting the form down.

As they reached the pavilion, he noticed a few sixth form boys standing outside chatting. They looked like gods, he thought. He wondered why they were there. Following his friends into the building, he promptly forgot about it and began to get changed.

At quarter past two, they assembled on the grass, lined up in their forms. Mr Needham began to explain what was going to happen. They”d be running a mile and a half, partly on the playing field, but mainly on the adjacent parkland.

Michael wasn”t interested. He”d simply follow everyone else. He looked around. One of the sixth formers, Robinson, was still there, dressed in running kit. It appeared that he was going to lead them round. Michael felt his cock stirring in this shorts. Robinson was slim and very good looking. He”d have sucked the boy off without giving it a second thought.

The other sixth formers, Mr Needham told them, were distributed around the route “to make sure that nobody cuts the course”. Michael shrugged. Much as he disliked games, he wouldn”t have done that. Boys caught cheating got the cane. It wouldn”t have been worth the risk, even if there hadn”t been sixth formers there to prevent it.

At half past two, the race began. Michael did exactly what he”d planned to do, trotting around without making too much effort. He didn”t know in what position he was and didn”t care. There were plenty of boys behind him, so he wasn”t showing himself up.

Eventually he crossed the finish line and made his way along a narrow passage between two ropes. At the far end, he was given a ticket bearing the number 68. That wasn”t too bad, he considered. Allowing for the boys who were off sick and those who”d brought notes to excuse them from taking part, he”d beaten around forty of those who”d run.

He handed his ticket to the snobby, arrogant Carver, who was recording 1-Green”s results. He was one of the boys who”d brought a note. That was typical, Michael reflected. His parents wouldn”t have considered getting him excused.

He saw Newton sitting on the grass and went to join him. When they ran a lap of the playing field at the start of their games classes, the slim, leggy boy always went on ahead, so Michael knew his friend was a better runner than the rest of their little gang.

“How did you get on?” Michael asked, sitting down next to him.

“I finished sixth” Newton said disarmingly. “Better than I expected. Well, I don”t know what I expected really. I”ve never run a cross-country race before.”

“Well done!” Michael said, grinning.

Newton grinned back, clearly not bothered in the slightest.

“D”you know who won?” Michael asked.

“Downing,” Newton told him. “He”s really strong. Once we got into the park, nobody could stay with him.”

Michael nodded. Downing, with his beautiful body and equally beautiful cock, had `athlete” written all over him. A few minutes later, the last of the stragglers were back. The team result was quickly determined. Mr Needham began bustling about.

“Where”s Newton?” he demanded.

Newton put his hand up. Mr Needham strode across.

“You”re the only one who finished in the top ten that”s not in either the football team or the cross-country team,” he barked. “You obviously have some ability. Why aren”t you using it?”

“I”ve never run a race before, sir.” Newton explained, rather taken aback. “I didn”t know I”d be any good.”

“Hmmph!” Mr Needham retorted, as though he suspected the boy of lying. “Well, you know now. So you get yourself along to cross-country training, d”you understand? Boys who fail to use their talents are letting the school down, and we don”t want that, do we?”

Newton didn”t answer; he was too upset. Mr Needham had told him off for not joining the cross-country team. But why would he have? He didn”t know anyone else that did cross-country. The idea had simply never occurred to him.

Mr Needham gave Whitney a look of disapproval and strode away. What was that for, Michael wondered? He hadn”t done anything wrong. By his own modest standards, he”d performed quite well, so why the unpleasant look?

But more than that he was cross. He didn”t like Mr Needham. The man had barked at him several times, calling him “useless” and “lazy”. But what he”d said to Newton wasn”t fair. Chris had never run a cross-country escort kocaeli race before. How was he to know that he”d be any good at it?

Moments later, the team result was announced. 1-Red had won, with 1-Green in second place. Then the presentations were made. Newton sat on the grass, still looking distressed by the way Mr Needham had spoken to him.

Finally, they were sent to get showered and changed. As Michael emerged from the showers, he noticed Mr Needham looking right at him. He didn”t understand that either. It made him feel uncomfortable. He hurried back to the changing room as fast as he could. By ten past three they were on their way home.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Tuesday morning break. Alex was still in his classroom, when, to his surprise, Whitney appeared.

“I wasn”t expecting to see you,” he said, smiling. “What can I do for you?”

Michael quickly outlined the events of the previous afternoon.

“It wasn”t fair, sir,” he concluded. “Newton”s never run in a cross-country race before. He”d no idea he”d be any good.”

Alex nodded sympathetically. He wasn”t surprised. Having served in the war before training as a teacher, Mr Needham was inclined to bark out orders, expecting the boys to obey without question.

“Leave it with me,” he said soothingly. “I”ll see what I can do.”

“There is one other thing sir,” Michael said. “I was sitting next to Newton when Mr Needham was telling him off. Before he walked off, he gave me a really dirty look. Then when I came out of the showers, I saw him looking right at me, you know, staring.”

Alex swallowed hard. He”d been concerned that something like this might happen. The relationship he”d built with the Under-15 football team had produced some unexpected benefits. The boys were so comfortable around him that they talked to each other as though he wasn”t there. As a result, he”d heard various whisperings about Mr Needham”s penchant for boy-watching, including some sniggering references to the attention he paid to Archer”s boy-parts. He took a deep breath.

“At some point, you must have bent down with your back to him,” he said quietly, “maybe to put on your underpants or dry your feet. He”s seen your bottom.”

“You mean . . . ?” Michael said, the unwelcome realisation washing over him.

“I”m afraid so,” Alex said gently. “In some cases it”s pretty obvious. But don”t worry. Nothing”s going to happen.”

Michael stood for several seconds trying to take it all in. He must be one of those cases, he reasoned, so the bullying Mr Needham knew he”d been fucked. He could hardly imagine anything worse. But Mr Faulkner had just told him that nothing would happen, meaning, he presumed, that Mr Needham wouldn”t tell anyone. But why wouldn”t he? Suddenly the light dawned. Mr Needham wouldn”t tell anyone because he”d have to explain how he knew.

“Okay sir!” he said, smiling.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At lunchtime, Alex”s first priority was to find geography master Glyn Daniels, who ran the cross-country team.

“All my runners are volunteers,” Mr Daniels explained. “It”s a tough sport. They have to want to do it. Of course, I”d be happy to have Newton in the team if he wants to join. Locke”s in your form isn”t he? He”s one of my runners. He finished eighth yesterday, so Newton certainly wouldn”t be out of his depth.”

“Oh, I see,” Alex said thoughtfully. “Leave it with me. I”ll have a word.”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Wednesday morning break. Alex sat at his desk and waited. A couple of minutes later, Newton appeared.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked nervously.

“Yes, come and sit down,” Alex said brightly, indicating the chair placed next to his own.

Newton sat down, still looking apprehensive. He was a sensitive boy, Alex noted. He”d have to handle this carefully.

“I need to ask you about the cross-country on Monday afternoon,” he said carefully. “I understand you hadn”t run a cross-country race before.”

“No sir, we didn”t do anything like that at my junior school.”

“Now a little bird told me that Mr Needham pretty well ordered you to join the cross-country team.”

“Yes sir.”

“And what d”you think about that?”

“I don”t really want to, sir.”

“Let”s think about that for a moment. You finished sixth. Locke, who”s in the cross-country team finished eighth. So you”re definitely good enough. Are you sure you wouldn”t like to give it a try?”

“Not really, sir. I”m not interested in sport. I never have been.”

Alex paused, working out what he could say next. He glanced down at Newton”s slender thighs. The boy really was beautiful. He checked himself. This was not the time to be entertaining those thoughts.

“Have you ever been part of a team?” he asked.

“No sir.”

“It can be a very valuable experience. And it would give you the opportunity to make some new friends.”

Newton didn”t reply, but the expression on his face said it all.

“Fair enough,” Alex conceded. “Yesterday I had a chat with Mr Daniels, who told me all his runners are volunteers. So if you don”t want to do it, nobody”s going to make you. Okay, off you go!”

Alex watched the boy disappear out of the room. He was disappointed. He”d done his best, but for once it hadn”t worked. In his brief career, he”d scored several victories. This one had eluded him. He speculated that he might have had more chance if Mr Needham hadn”t spoken to the lad in the way he had. Being honest, he wasn”t sure that it would have made much difference.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With school over for the day, Alex waited in his classroom, working through some past A-level papers. A few minutes later, Whitney appeared. After the usual preliminaries they made their way into the store room.

“Sir,” Michael asked. “Did you tell Newton that I”d told you what Mr Needham said to him?”

“No,” Alex responded. “I said that a little bird had told me. But he”s not stupid. He must have worked out it was you. He wasn”t upset with you, was he?”

“Oh no. I said that I told you because I knew he wouldn”t. He was fine about it.”

“Good! Now I”ve got something to ask you. A week on Saturday, Mr Smith”s invited us to his place. There”s another boy he wants kocaeli anal yapan escort us to meet. The problem is that if we don”t meet until nearly three o”clock we won”t have time. Is there any chance you could make it earlier for once?”

“I don”t know, sir. I”ll have to ask.”

“Good boy! You won”t forget, will you?”

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Thursday evening. Alex got into his car and headed back to school. It was the First Year parents” evening. He”d put on his best striped blazer in honour of the occasion. He wasn”t worried. All the boys in 1-Green had done at least reasonably well, so he couldn”t envisage there being any problems. But it was hard to know what to expect. He didn”t even know which parents would want to see him.

The four masters who taught First Year mathematics were located in Neil Fleming”s classroom, one in each corner. Alex sat down in his appointed place, took out his mark book and his notes, and waited. At quarter past seven, parents started to arrive and he began his first consultation. It all went very smoothly. The boy was doing well and enjoying his mathematics classes. He was pleased with the lad”s progress and so were his parents.

Over the next forty-five minutes he conducted a series of similar consultations, including one with Whitney”s mother. He listened to her attentively, keen to detect any signs that she might be concerned about her son. But there were none. Not only was Michael doing better than expected at school, he kept his room clean and tidy, performed other chores as requested, and was generally polite and helpful. His mother clearly thought the world of him.

Just after eight, a tall, well-built man approached his desk. He was wearing a navy blue blazer with a large, gold wire badge on the breast pocket, immaculate grey trousers and what was clearly a regimental tie. With a trim physique, dark hair going grey at the temples, brown eyes, a sallow complexion and a military-style moustache, he cut an impressive figure. Alex estimated him to be in his mid-forties, but had no idea who he was.

“Keith Newton,” the man said brusquely, taking his seat. “Christopher”s dad.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Alex said smiling. “Christopher”s doing very well, as I guess you know.”

“Yes, he”s a good lad,” the man responded in clipped, military tones. “What I really wanted to see you about was this cross-country business. If he wanted to join the team I”d give him my full support, but I won”t have him dragooned into it. I understand you spoke to him about it.”

“Yes. He”s obviously quite good, so I encouraged him to at least give it a try. I wanted to make sure he hadn”t rejected the idea just because of the way Mr Needham spoke to him. I think Christopher is quite sensitive.”

“Yes,” Mr Newton agreed. “Gets it from his mother. And he has absolutely no interest in sport. He never has had. Now I”ve no objection to you trying to encourage him. But the man Needham was exceeding his authority.”

“I”m afraid you have to excuse Mr Needham. He fought in the last war . . .”

“Yes, I know,” Mr Newton interrupted. “So did I, right through in fact. Of course, I was an officer. I don”t think he would have been. Let”s just say that I”ve met his sort before. Actually, I”ve met him before, last year. His older boy”s at our place . . .”

“Our place?” Alex queried.

“Langstone Park; I”m head of science. He came to parents” evening. It was all very pleasant. The boy”s a model pupil, well-behaved, knows his manners, does well in class, and very good at games of course. He”s in Second Year now. I understand we”ll be getting the younger one in September if he passes the exam.”

“Oh, I see,” Alex said absently.

His head was spinning. He”d no idea that Mr Needham had sons of his own. How did that fit with him being a serial boy-watcher? Did he watch his sons too? Maybe he took things even further.

“I believe you were at Cambridge,” Mr Newton said, changing the subject.

“Yes,” Alex confirmed, jerking himself back to the present. “You?”

“Oh, I didn”t make it to those dizzy heights. Before the War I was at Imperial; good place to be if you wanted to learn how to blow things up.”

“Yes, I”m sure it must have been.”

“Well, thanks for all you”re doing,” Mr Newton said, getting to his feet. “Christopher speaks very highly of you. I”m off to find Mr Needham to express my displeasure.”

“Goodnight,” Alex said.

He allowed himself a smile. Mr Newton had that aura of effortless authority that all really good teachers have, and had purposely put on the blazer and tie to send Mr Needham a message. Being a fly on the wall at that interview would have been very interesting.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was quarter to nine. The evening was nearly over. A stockily-built man and his wife came to Alex”s table.

“Mr and Mrs Barnes,” the man said by way of introduction.

“I”m pleased you”ve come to see me,” Alex said warmly.

“Stuart didn”t do very well last term, did he?” Mr Barnes said.

“His classwork wasn”t bad,” Alex explained, “and he always did his homework, but he tended to rush it. He needed to spend more time over it. And as you know, he did poorly in the exams.”

“We told him over and over that he wasn”t taking it seriously enough,” Mrs Barnes said. “He just wouldn”t listen.”

“But after Christmas,” Mr Barnes added. “You had a word with him. And that was it. He”s been as good as gold ever since.”

“Actually, I”m not sure it was too much to do with me,” Alex cautioned. “As you know, Stuart”s very keen on football. I coach the under-15 team. I happened to mention that I”d had a similar conversation with my team captain, who”d lost his way a little. Now the young man concerned is a very good player. He”s just been selected to represent the county. Stuart really looks up to boys like that, and to give him his due, he went and talked to him. I”m pleased to say that he received some very clear and sound advice. To hear it from an older boy that he looks up to had a far bigger impact than anything I could have said.”

“But you took the trouble to talk to him,” Mr Barnes countered. “If you hadn”t, izmit yabancı escort he”d have just carried on as he was.”

“Well, I wasn”t going to stand by and watch him fail,” Alex conceded. “I had to try to put it right. Fortunately, it seems to have worked.”

“Well thank you very much for what you did,” Mrs Barnes said. “We were getting really worried.”

They stood up and said their goodbyes. Alex watched them go. As far as he was concerned, that one consultation had made his whole evening. Being a teacher was about making a difference. And for Stuart Barnes, he definitely had.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The week was drawing to a close. Although he had everything else pretty much under control, Alex”s battle with Parker had continued. Unlike Jones in his Fourth Year group, who was too weak to cause any problems without other boys to back him up, Parker was both arrogant and defiant in roughly equal measure.

His bone of contention was that the parents of Laws and Armstrong had ordered their boys to stay away from him on pain of losing their few remaining privileges, a message they were taking very seriously. In Parker”s view, it was all Alex”s fault because of the regime of extra work he”d imposed, and the boy was determined to make him pay for it.

Parker”s naked hostility had made classes with 3-Blue even more demanding. Alex wasn”t able to relax for even a second. But he was unrelenting. Although he didn”t relish the confrontation with Parker, he wasn”t going to shy away from it.

He was buoyed by two things. First, he knew he had the full support of his head of department and the Headmaster. Second, apart from Armstrong and Laws, who”d been side-lined by their parents, Parker had no support among the other boys. And so he was going to carry on with his programme of extra classes until 3-Blue had caught up with the other Third Year groups. Lorenzo Parker could go to hell and probably would.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Michael rang the bell of Mr Faulkner”s flat. Moments later, his teacher opened the door and ushered him inside.

“I asked Mum about next weekend,” Michael said. “She said she”d have to talk to Dad about it.”

“And has she?”

“I think so. I heard them arguing after I”d gone to bed. Dad wouldn”t have liked it. He likes things to carry on the same way all the time.”

“Oh, I see. So what was the outcome?”

“I don”t know. She hasn”t told me yet.”

“Well, let me know as soon as you can, please.”

After a cup of tea, they migrated to the bedroom. Pretty soon they were snuggled up on the bed, kissing, sucking fondling, Michael could tell that Mr Faulkner was even more attentive and affectionate than usual. He certainly wasn”t objecting, but he did wonder why. The explanation was not long in coming.

“I know meeting these other boys is very exciting,” the man whispered, nuzzling his ear. “I just want you to know you”re still my number one.”

“Thanks,” Michael purred, his teacher”s reassuring words making him feel warm inside.

What Alex had failed to say that Whitney wasn”t just his number one; he was, in practice, his only one. Without the fair haired boy by his side, access to the other boys they”d met would disappear in an instant. But it didn”t matter. Whitney was happy, and so was he.

Their foreplay went on far longer than it usually did, but eventually they both needed to bring matters to a conclusion.

“How d”you want me?” Michael asked, smearing K-Y over Mr Faulkner”s cock.

“Any way you like,” Alex responded, smiling.

Michael pulled a pillow into the middle of the bed.

“Well, if you”re not going to put shorts on,” Alex said, handing him a towel, “We”d better use this.”

The towel was old, Michael noted, and quite rough. He laid it over the pillow and settled down on top, his legs spread apart. Moments later, his teacher”s cock was pushing into his anus, going in deeper and deeper until he was pinned to the bed, totally under Mr Faulkner”s control.

Within seconds, he was being unmercifully fucked. His teacher”s cock drove in hard and deep, thrusting repeatedly over his prostate. He could feel the man”s heart thumping against his back, his teacher”s sexy aroma flooding his nostrils. There was nothing half-hearted about it. Mr Faulkner was giving it everything.

Michael was in heaven. This was what he wanted. It was why he was here. He marvelled at his ability to get his teacher so excited. Mr Faulkner”s relentless pounding was causing his penis to rub against the towel. The tingling sensations built steadily, inexorably, driving him almost delirious.

He lay as still as he could, desperate to make it last. He”d even wanked off before breakfast in the hope of delaying the inevitable. It didn”t seem to have made much difference. Suddenly, everything exploded. He shuddered from head to toe, his muscles wracked by uncontrollable spasms. His cock jerked beneath him, three jets of sticky cum squirting onto the towel.

“Oh, you naughty boy!” Alex breathed, right into his ear. “Now take my spunk!”

“Oh yes sir!” Michael gasped. “Fill me up!”

Mr Faulkner”s hands gripped his upper arms, the man”s cock burrowing deep into his bum. A moment later he was aware of it moving inside him. Volleys of warm, creamy fluid spurted into his rectum for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually, it stopped. For almost half a minute they lay motionless, fused together as though frozen in time.

Having recovered his composure, Alex carefully withdrew. Michael sighed contentedly. He was gloriously messy, his bum filled with his teacher”s spunk. Removing the towel, he returned the pillow to the top of the bed. With just the towel beneath him, he rolled onto his side. Seconds later, Mr Faulkner was there in front of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Oh yes sir!” Michael confirmed. “That was super! The best ever!”

“Are you going to be alright for tomorrow?”

Yes sir. When it”s time for him to fuck me, I”ll kneel across his chest and sit on his cock. He won”t notice a thing.”

“You”re a marvel!” Alex purred.

He drew Whitney into a sensuous post-fuck kiss. He”d quite deliberately made fuss of the boy to let him know how important he was. It had worked to perfection. And if all went to plan, in a week”s time they”d be at Gordon”s place, taking turns to fuck eleven-year old Southcott. What better reward could there be for all the work he”d put in and the unexpected problems he”d had to face?

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