Boys School. From Nothing to Every thing.

This story is fantasy and involves boy/boy sexual fiction. If you feel that this in any way will go against the grain, then leave now and navigate away to a story more to your liking.

My first attempt at Fiction.

Boys School. From Nothing to Everything.

Let’s set the background to this story and give you the background of the main character.

Mitchell was 11 with fire red shoulder length hair, jade green eyes and a lean body that had not one once of fat on it and was slowly starting to fill out in all the right places. He was homed schooled along with his 8 year old brother Scott, by their loving and doting mother who had been a high up professional in a big city firm, (which for the times was still a rare occurrence) but she’d given all that up, when Mitchell came along, and had devoted her life to giving her son, then sons, the best start in life. His father was an officer in the armed forces and was posted to many places all over the world and he had made the decision that his kids would not grow up army brats as he had done, so had put down permanent roots so as not to drag his wife and kids to all corners.

Then it happened, and to Mitchell’s mind, a thing he thought he’d never recover from, his mother died, leaving his brother and himself with the biggest empty hole that even with his fathers presence hurt in so many ways that he couldn’t describe the emotions and feelings that flooded his young head. To this was added a bomb shell by his father, that he was to stay in the service and that he and Scott would have to go to boarding school. As the days drew on fear and trepidation of the upcoming event had became the most prominent thought in both the boys heads. No amount of begging to stay with relatives or even a friend which had made an offer to take care of both of them, would persuade their parent to put off the impending day.

On that dreaded morning both boys felt sick to their stomachs and by then had even began to have ill feelings towards, as they thought, their uncaring and horrible father. They entered the car in total silence looking at each other in their new school uniforms consisting of a grey cap with a Latin motto and badge, white shirt and a tie of the school colours, grey jumper, grey blazer once again with the badge, grey shorts and socks with black brogue type shoes all which had been labelled with their names and billet number even down to the underwear which could only be of the Y type variety and white. Mitchell hated having to wear shorts as he thought that he was grown up enough to wear long trousers but had caved in to his fathers’ “rules are rules,” retort to any protestations he made. The one thing he didn’t look forward to in the clothing department was having to wear a kilt on occasions that required it, at things like church parade and special events that were organised where they were to be ambassadors for the school.

Rolling up the long driveway an imposing building came into view. Mitchell looked over at his brother whose mouth was wide open in disbelief and had started to tear up at the thought of having to come to this place, although seen in photographs, nothing prepared him for the actual size of the buildings and the bleakness of its turrets and clock tower. Directed to a large open space the car was parked. Mitchell was fighting with knot in his belly and the lump in the throat he thought would choke him, telling himself that he wasn’t going to cry so as not to let his father see that he was terrified, angry and upset. Slowly exiting the vehicle he went round to the rear and popped the boot open and began to struggle to get the luggage and the trunks out. His heart now pounding and trying to rip its way out of his chest Mitchell noticed boys of every shape and age going about their business most in the same drab grey uniforms, fussed over by a myriad of parents and guardians. Turning to see what his brother was up to, he saw him in an embrace with father and he was bawling into the shoulder of his sports jacket. Mitchell too wanted to feel this warm embrace but had decided that he was to show that no matter what he would not break down in front of this man he now thought of as an enemy. It was then that an older boy stepped up and introduced himself and telling the adult that he was a senior at the school and would help us to find our places. Introduction over with Mitchell overheard that this was the boy who was to be his billet mentor and that his name was Iain. Lead forward to the ever growing throng of boys once again Mitchell’s heart was pounding and his brother followed the father like a little puppy incessantly talking and holding onto his hand with both of his. Iain pointed down at Scott and shouted to another of the bigger boys saying “ think this is one of yours”.