Chapter 4
Bradford Hudson was alone in his own quarters at last. If anything, he was more confused than ever as he unpacked his luggage. Following his initial meeting with Dr. Slade, he had been formally introduced to the rest of the faculty at a cocktail hour prior to dinner. He had still been numb from Dr. Slade's disclosure that his scandalous record was the foremost reason that he'd been hired. But the subject was not brought up again. Indeed, nothing that alluded to sexual behavior even entered into conversation afterward--unless one could consider the doctor's lengthy discourse over dinner on the merits of corporeal punishment in modern education.
Hudson had been asked at one point to give his own view. The others at the table seemed to be in complete agreement with the headmaster, and he had gone along. He had said that many times in public school he had wished that he'd been allowed to take a rod to a student's behind. The others seemed appreciative of his reply.
But what an odd faculty, he thought. There was Elaine Duke, who taught social science and history and also supervised the girls' dorm. Pretty in an indistinctive way, she looked to be in her early thirties. She had a soft, rounded body--the cuddly type. She wasn't his kind of woman at all. Hudson wrote her off as an academic introvert resigned to a godforsaken school in the middle of nowhere. Adele Hutton who wore the hats of school nurse, biology teacher, and girls' gym instructor was a more interesting possibility. She had the lean, tight figure of a female athlete, but the curves' were there to be seen. Hudson had known similar females who were explosive in the sex act. Then there was Warren Blake, mathematics, boys' gym, and dorm supervisor. He was too saccharine.
Immediately, Brad pegged him as a homosexual. Which probably explained, he thought, why he had ended up at Mt. Arcadia. Maybe they both had a scandal in common. And, of course, there was also Dr. Slade whom Brad discovered taught classical languages, Latin and Greek, in addition to his position as headmaster. Finally, there was the one person who truly fascinated him: the beautiful, raven-haired enigma, Madame Martel She was a statuesque Venus with a body that quickened Hudson's pulse. He could not for a second imagine what such a magnificently stunning woman was doing at a place like the isolated school. In beauty alone, she transcended the Hollywood ideal. Her casual haughtiness and sophistication befitted the upper echelon of the jet set. Yet, at lonely Mt. Arcadia, she was simply Dr. Slade's administrator, second in command. It mystified Hudson and, if he resolved nothing else during that nervous social and dinner hour, he made up his mind to satisfy his curiosity.
He finished unpacking and found the quarters adequate. It was a single, oversized room with an adjoining bath. With a double bed and dressers at one end, there was enough space left for a sitting area with sofa, desk, and bookshelves. In a small liquor cabinet, which was empty, was a note informing him that if he wished to order spirits, he should see Willis. Willis had been his driver and obviously had other household functions.
Hudson was annoyed. He wanted a drink. If he had a car--no, he'd still have to drive a helluva distance to a town. He had been forced to sell his car to support his unemployment. The thought of that caused him to realize how deeply isolated he really was. No wheels, no booze. Maybe one of the others had a cup of Scotch he could borrow. With the exception of Warren Blake and Miss Duke, who lived in the dorms, the rest had their living quarters down the hall from him on the second, the top, floor of the administration building. Perhaps even Madame Martel herself? God, how he hated that sobriquet, "Madame." It might be appropriate for Swiss finishing schools, but he couldn't shake off the American connection to commercial sex.
The phone on his desk had no outside line and a list of extension numbers was posted. He was about to dial when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Dr. Slade, who beamed a smile at him and said, "Come, come, Mr. Hudson. We shall be late. Bring a coat. We're going to the boys' dormitory."
Hudson followed obediently. The wind was icy and howling as they crossed the grounds--to the square brick dorm. Slade explained nothing along the way. Inside the building, the headmaster quickly led the way down a flight of basement stairs. They passed through a warm utility room where an oil heater burned away, then through a heavy door, entered a small gymnasium. The room was equipped with exercise equipment and weights, wrestling mats, and gymnastic paraphernalia.
"The school is starved for space," Slade said. "This gym used to be a storeroom before we converted it."
Bradford Hudson hardly heard the banal words. His eyes were wide and his jaw had dropped. On a mat in the center of the room, a young boy of about sixteen stood at rigid attention. He was stark naked. Next to him, in a sweat suit, was Warren Blake holding a broad paddle similar to those used for fraternity initiations.
Blake smiled and indicated the nude boy. "This is Bruce," he explained. "Bruce has been a constant problem to us. Truly exasperating. He simply refuses to obey the rules."
"Bruce is very confused, Mr. Hudson," Slade sighed. "Yesterday we caught him sneaking out of the school laundry room after he had stolen a pair of soiled girl's panties. Well, we can't have pilfering. I postponed his punishment until today so you could see for yourself how we put into practice my theories of discipline. You may proceed, Warren. Fifteen strokes, I think."
The boy visibly trembled when he heard the word "fifteen." Yet he made no sound. Blake ordered him to turn around, bend over, and grasp the handles of the leather-covered exercise horse directly behind him. The boy obeyed immediately.
Hudson had not been able to stop staring at the boy's young, flaccid cock and his soft, adolescent body. When the punishment position was assumed, Hudson's gaze fell on the downy ass cheeks. The tremor in his loins made him instantly aware of his own bisexuality. The boy was a choice morsel, and Hudson was enthusiastic about seeing that sweet ass beaten. If anything, he would have loved to shove his own stiff erection into it. Yet, while he had those erotic thoughts, he was also frightened with the entire situation. There was so much he did not understand.
The paddle in Blake's hands whistled in a half arc and thwacked roundly on the boy's ass. The very sound made Hudson cringe. The boy, however, did not begin to wiggle or squirm until the fifth blow. On the eighth, he whimpered. By ten he was crying; and at the finish he moaned. The young ass, once so pink, was cherry red. Then Blake ordered the boy to turn around. Hudson blinked in amazement!
The expression on the boy's face was not, as he had expected, one of tortured anguish. The grimace was one of painful ecstasy. But that wasn't the source Of Hudson's incredulity. The paddling had triggered a throbbing erection! The cock that had looked so small and shriveled minutes before was now brightly swollen to a commendable five inches.
Slade and Blake both noticed Hudson's expression. "I think you're beginning to understand," the headmaster said softly. "Intriguing, isn't it? It opens up all manner of possibilities within an academic environment." He turned to the boy and ordered him to come forward. "Did you enjoy the paddle, Bruce?"
"I... I don't know. I mean, I guess so," the boy stammered.
Blake reached down and held the boy's erection between a thumb and forefinger. He gave it a couple of quick strokes and said, "Of course he did, Dr. Slade. I'm holding the proof. Now then, Bruce, what are you going to do with this?" He gave the cock a jiggle.
The boy looked up plaintively. Then he blinked and recited, as if by rote, "I have been properly punished. I want to thank you in any way you see fit."
Hudson doubted his hearing. There was no mistaking the licentious gleam in Dr. Slade's eye. There was more empirical evidence, however. The punishment had caused a stirring in Hudson's loins, and the aftermath had created an erection that was tight and gripping in his pants. He noticed, too, that Blake had a telltale protuberance under his sweatpants. Dr. Slade was even more obvious; as he stood in front of the naked boy, he was unconsciously rubbing the bulge in his crotch.
"You two may leave now," the headmaster told the two male teachers. "Bruce is going to put on his clothes and go back to my apartment with me."
Leaving the basement, Blake queried, "Why don't you join me for a drink?"
Hudson nodded without even thinking. Blake's quarters were on the first floor and quite similar to his own. The exception was that Blake had a small bar complete with miniature refrigerator.
"Do the honors, will you, please? You'll find everything there. I had the bar put in myself." He grinned wryly. "It reminds me of gay youth. Oh, Scotch for me. I'm going to get out of these gym clothes."
Hudson dug out the ice and the Scotch and quickly built two drinks. His own was better than a double. He drained off a large swallow and breathed a deep sigh. His first night at Mt. Arcadia had been a little more than unnerving. As the whisky warmed his throat, he glanced down the room at Blake. The teacher was just in the process of pulling off his sweatpants. Hudson could have averted his eyes, but he didn't. Blake still retained a formidable erection. It sprung loose, rigid and virile, as the pants came off. It was a considerable contrast to the adolescent cock he had just seen. Hudson had a great deal of pride in his own genital equipment, but he was forced to acknowledge that Blake was nearly his match. Somehow that irritated him. He was completely satisfied that Blake was a faggot of the first order and most likely found himself loath to females. Illogically, Hudson had always considered the homosexual as less endowed than straights or bisexuals such as himself. At least his own homosexual experiences had borne this out. He had even attributed a great deal of homosexual inclination among certain males as being a direct result of a small cock. Egotistically, he thought a big Cock--such as his own--gave a female ultimate pleasure whereas a penis of smaller dimensions seemed to make little difference in a male homosexual relationship. After all, the available apertures could only hold so much cock. Anything beyond that was redundant. It was a kudo to his vanity that, in this mental argument, he failed to consider the perverse pleasure he had received when reaming his own thick nine inches into the anus of another male. In any event, he felt that the size of Warren Blake's cock was excessive.
Then, while taking a second sip of his drink, he realized that not only did Blake's sex muscle seem extraordinarily large, but that it was on display. Stark naked, Blake casually came across the room and picked up his drink. His expression was totally blasé. He could have been wearing a tuxedo.
"Ahh, that's lovely," he said of the drink. "One needs to take the edge off after one of these sessions, don't you think? Of course, Slade doesn't show up very often, and I've never had to instruct in front of a new faculty member." Blake walked away from the bar and across to a sofa. He slumped into the cushions with his legs extended and cradled his glass on his chest. The huge, purple-veined cock arched up from his hairy balls like a monstrous prong. Blake seemed oblivious to the fact that it even existed. "You know what Old Slade is going to do, of course?"
Hudson had to swallow before he could say, "Yes, I think I do." He was standing just behind the edge of the small counter. He was tremendously conscious of his own erection, and he did not want Blake to see it. The sight of the fat phallus a few feet before him was causing his mind to spin. The man had to be the boldest sonofabitch he'd ever encountered. First parading, then lounging around with a gigantic hard-on. Hudson knew he had lost a strategic sexual round. Two minutes earlier he could have said, coolly and pointedly, "I think you had better put some pants on." And no doubt Blake would have smiled and apologized and complied. But now he had let it go too long and now he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He'd be damned if he would pull his eyes away and talk into his drink or stare at the ceiling. Nevertheless, the sight of the cock, the stupendous presence of it looming out so closely, was the most sexually intimidating thing he had ever seen.
"We thought you would," Blake continued, smiling. "Yes, our Dr. Slade is truly a genius. He'll have Bruce the whole night, you know. He'll fawn over him, loving him, and all the time he'll be tweaking that cute little cock and practically hypnotize him into doing. . . well, just let your fertile imagination run wild. Nothing, I repeat, nothing is impossible at Mt. Arcadia."
Hudson nodded. Mesmerized by the erection, which looked larger and larger in his psyche, he would not argue. He tried to rationally determine whether or not Blake's posture was shock treatment or a test of his perversity. He felt the guts-urge to call the game, but was checked by a deep and unknown restraint.
Blake chuckled, which made his erection bobble. "I'm sorry to say that we don't have more boys enrolled, Brad. There's only thirteen of them this term, compared with twenty-five girls. As you may have guessed, we're very selective. As far as the boys go, we don't want any jockstraps. Whatever your first impressions may be, Dr. Slade is a fantastic psychiatrist. He only accepts those students who he feels will comply to the environment we've created here. Naturally, they all come from very wealthy families. You could almost graduate a kid from college for what it costs for a year here. But to the parents, it's worth it. These are very spoiled and neurotic children. Oh, I suppose a sociologist would have a string of apologies . .. broken homes, parental neglect, overindulgence, precocity, you name it. Of course, what they need--or, I should say, needed--is solid psychological therapy. We have a seventeen-year-old boy named Tommy, for instance, whom you'll meet. His parents summer in Key West. Since he's been thirteen, he's been offering his mouth and his ass to every sailor's cock that he could solicit." Blake giggled. "He has quite an asshole! Seriously, though, we get the kids whose parents, whether they're high society or nouveau riche, are too concerned with their own image to have an embarrassment around the house. They won't send these kids to psychiatrists. They want them out of the way. They want no further trouble or embarrassments. Dr. Slade has simply capitalized on this peculiar trend. He promises the parents that their prodigies will come back very docile and very obedient. For public consumption, his motto is 'Spare the rod and spoil the child,' and legalistically speaking this is what happens. What the parents don't know is that their children are being selected with extreme care. Only one in twenty applicants ever makes it to Mt. Arcadia. Slade doesn't choose just any rich, wild kid. Unless their basic problem is psychosexual, he leaves them alone. There are no narcotic addicts here, for example, although a good number of them have experimented. Slade confines his selections strictly to those with sexual neurosis. It's limiting, I'll have to admit, but who could ask for a better job?"
Hudson drained his glass and poured another without being invited. Stark pictures and glossy images were flashing through his brain. Mt. Arcadia was the Everest of sexuality for a person like himself. It was a group-tour, package-plan, all-expenses-paid excursion to a nether land which he had frequently fantasized but never believed existed. A tightness was seizing his balls. Damn Blake, anyway. Heretofore, he had always been in relative control of any sexual situation. Now he was like a fish out of water. He couldn't pull his eyes away from Blake's hard-on. The man continued to talk casually about the school, but Hudson couldn't hear him. The drink was going down at an unwise speed. He forced himself to clench the muscles of his groin in time to hear Blake say, "... and we were all briefed on your background. It must have been quite a show you had going. I was quite interested because it was very similar to my own fall from public favor. Of course, in my case, there were no young ladies involved. What I had started was a calculus club--eight enchanting young men. Our meetings were truly a sight to behold. Here, I'll show you." He raised himself leisurely, his erection jutting up and out. He took an album from a nearby bookshelf, opened it, and set it on the bar before Hudson.
Two eight-by-ten photos stared up at him. The first was a daisy chain of anal intercourse. At the head of it, crouched Blake, sucking on the cock of the first boy in line. That boy was being fucked in the ass as were the others behind him. The second photo depicted a circle jerk. Blake and six boys, holding their own cocks or someone else's, were masturbating over another young man who lay prone before them. A couple of them had already ejaculated on their victim, and the photographer had caught Blake's load the instant he came. Aside from their young cocks and bodies, Hudson noticed the eager expressions on their faces. Even the young man who was being showered with cum seemed to be enjoying it.
"That was one of our initiations," Blake explained. "The boy had to let himself be gang-banged, too. Take it from as many as he could handle at once. Ah, yes, I often miss those days. What about you, Hudson? Did you and the boys in your group ever get together?"
Hudson nodded slowly. "There was only one boy, but we made it." Blake was standing next to him at the corner of the bar. The teacher's cock was only inches away.
Blake mused softly, "I wonder what the good doctor and Bruce are doing at this very moment? Do you suppose the boy is going down on him? That would be quite a mouthful. Slade doesn't give the impression of being very physical, but he's hung like a bull, I can tell you. Not too long, but abnormally thick."
He looked down boldly at the bulge in Hudson's pants. Casually, he reached over and ran his fingertips down the protuberance. "You're not exactly deficient yourself. I'd like to take care of that for you if I could. I don't want to offend you. I realize this place will take a little getting used to. I mean, you don't have to carry that thing back to your room and whip it off. I'd love to help you out, Brad, I really would."
Hudson thought for a moment. The only thing that had held him back so far was a sense of priority. He didn't know whether it would be smart in the overall scheme of things to start off the first evening in Mt. Arcadia with a homosexual incident. Yet it had all been set up and offered so blatantly that it was hard to see where there would be any onus attached. And it was he that didn't want to offend Blake. The man was the only other male teacher of his own age. Granted, he was as gay as they come. Still, he might offer some semblance of male companionship besides sex. Hudson made up his mind. He put his hand lightly on Blake's cock and wrapped his fingers around the rigid stem. He gave the cock a gentle pull. "I think you could say you talked me into it."
"Oh, marvelous," Blake sighed. "Young boys are beautiful, don't get me wrong. But a handsome man like yourself..." Deftly, he unzipped Hudson's fly and slipped his hand inside. When he found the throbbing organ, his eyes lit up. "My God, that's magnificent! Brad, please, get undressed. I simply have to have a very close look at that."
Hudson's ego was tickled. He allowed himself his first genuine smile since entering the room. He nodded to the request, drank a bit more Scotch, and walked into the bedroom area of the room. He took off his clothes without haste and turned to face Blake. Blake was actually trembling at the sight of Hudson's nakedness.
"That is the -most gorgeous cock I've ever seen," he said with a note of awe.
Hudson casually sipped his drink. His confidence had returned. Blake, balls and all, was no longer intimidating. He was just another faggot drooling over the sight of a hard cock. The upper hand was all his own. He decided to make Blake work for it.
He fondled his cock and said, "Sit down on the couch and I'll introduce you properly."
Blake was a bit puzzled. He complied, eager to make the acquaintance. He sat on the sofa and watched Hudson hungrily as he walked toward him. Instead of confronting him face-on, however, Hudson went behind the sofa. The back of it was just below the level of his crotch. Guiding his erection with one hand, he nuzzled it and rubbed it against Blake's ears and cheeks.
Blake was straining to get at it with his mouth. His lips were wet with saliva and his jaw was slack. Each time he would turn to lick or kiss, though, Hudson moved the hard meat just out of his reach. After but a minute, spittle was running down the corners of Blake's mouth. He was holding his own cock in a tight, squeezing grip. The veins and cords of his neck stood out as he moved his head. Hudson continued to tantalize, gradually letting the man have more and more of the fat, circumcised head.
"Lick it good for me," he said. "Get it nice and wet and slippery, because I'm going to put it up your ass."
Blake craned his head around and slobbered his tongue up and down the nine-inch length. In moments, the cock was slick and glistening.
"You do want it up your ass, don't you?" Hudson teased.
"Oh, yes, yes, anyway you want me."
"Bend over the back of the couch." Hudson came around, and Blake positioned himself by kneeling on the sofa cushions. Stepping up to him, Hudson spit on his fingers and pushed them into the anal crevice. He found the asshole hot and tight when he lubricated it. He pushed the tip of a single finger inside and jiggled it. Blake was twitching and gurgling.
"Do it! For sweet fuck's sake, use your cock! I want every beautiful inch of it."
Hudson removed his finger and leveled his burning prick at the small opening. He pressed the head to the wrinkled hole. With slow, steady pressure he pushed forward. The elastic ring of flesh gave ever so slightly. Then, with a swooshing sound of air, the heavy knob popped in and disappeared. Blake rolled his head from side to side and moaned. "It's the biggest one I've ever had! Give it to me slow, sweetie, or you'll tear me apart." Hudson's response was to take a grip on Blake's hips and plunge in another full inch on a single shove. Blake gasped but didn't protest. Another inch went in. Then another. In truth, it was all Hudson could manage. It was obvious that the young boys to whom the teacher was attracted were not overly endowed. Or, perhaps, being screwed in the ass wasn't one of Blake's foremost preferences. Certainly, it was as tight a male asshole as he'd ever tried. He'd been expecting something a little easier. His own cock ached at the strain.
"Shove back! Harder, harder!" Blake tried. He crouched deeper and pushed. He reached behind and spread the cheeks of his ass wider. But Hudson lost patience. He withdrew partway, leaving just the head of his cock buried, then he lunged savagely!
Blake screamed and tried to twist away. Hudson's hold was too tight, however, and the violent skewering had planted nearly two-thirds of the tremendous cock. With satisfaction, he thought, my God, that'll stretch it. That is one hole that will never be the same again! It would take a little time, but eventually he might be able to get all of it in. It was a thought that amused him. No one, male or female, had ever been able to take the full nine inches in the ass.
Feeling pleased, he eased off a little and rocked back and forth on his heels and fucked steadily but not harshly.
"Oh, yes! That's it!" Blake cried. "Fuck me, sweetie! Fuck me!"
Hudson was smiling lewdly. Looking down, he could see his thick muscle distending the dark red hole that was fringed with sparse, coarse hair. It became grossly misshapen on every stroke. It thrilled him to know that, although Blake was enjoying it, there was a good deal of pain being received along with the pleasure.
"Play with my balls, " Hudson demanded. "I'm getting ready. I'm going to come up your ass!"
"No, please! In my mouth! Come off in my mouth!"
"Later maybe," he teased. He felt Blake cup his balls and squeeze them gently. "That's it. Do you feel how heavy they are? All of that's for you. For your ass!" He arched his back and pumped forcefully. The ache in his testicles was growing by the second. Then he came. At the limit of his deepest penetration, the hot thick juice spurted out with eruptive force. Instantly, his belly seemed to go hollow and his knees weakened. But he did not stop. Though his cock softened slightly, he kept stroking. He stared in fascination as some of his cum oozed back out around his cock. The sight made him potently hard once again. Now, his own ejaculate mingling with the juices of Blake's ass, he was able to fuck deeper and deeper. He was driving Blake to a feverish state of passion--exactly what he wanted.
He pulled his cock out and said, "I can come again. Like you want it, in your mouth." He walked around the couch and held his now slimy prick just inches from Blake's mouth. "Go ahead, lick it first. Get it all good and clean and then I'll come again." He moved closer. He didn't give Blake the chance to refuse the soiled, hard flesh. He cupped the back of the man's head and pulled the mouth down on his cock in a single, quickly decisive move. Blake gulped, but he had no choice but to lick and suck.
Indeed, Hudson came again. It took some time, though. His first load had been particularly heavy, yet his second was adequate. At least Blake appeared to find it acceptable. The teacher twitched and quivered all over as the ejaculation spewed into his mouth and down his throat. He sucked and slurped noisily and greedily to get every last drop of it. This time, Hudson knew he was completely drained.
While Blake licked off his chin and lips, Hudson came around and sat at the end of the couch. Satiated, he leaned back and relaxed. He squinted at Blake's erection which was as huge as ever. It had turned purple in the heat of passion. He knew he would have to do something about it. The lazy way would be to allow Blake to fuck him m the ass. He was tempted because he would demand that Blake give him a good ass-tonguing first. On the other hand, he didn't want any pain or discomfort. He had always been careful about the size of the cocks he let up his ass. As he had been observing all evening, Blake was nearly as large as he. No, he supposed the simplest thing to do would be to blow him and get it over with. He sighed to himself and moved down the couch.
He weighed the heavy balls lightly in one hand and fondled the base of the angrily flushed shaft with the other.
"Oh, yes, sweetie!" Blake urged in a whisper. "It's ready for anything you want. Oh, that's beautiful! What a lovely mouth you have! Oh God, yes! Suck it like that! Ohhh ... you're sucking so-oo hard! Please, sweetie, slow down a little ... not so fast! Please, I .. . Oh, my God, I'm going to come! It's too soon... I'm sorry ... Ohhhh!"
Hudson milked the testicles and shaft with his hands and gulped down the thick salty flood of ejaculation. It tasted good and he enjoyed it. His real enjoyment, however, came from having brought Blake off so quickly. It was a fitting climax to the sexual advantage he had been nurturing. In deference to his host's sensibilities, however, he apologized for having begun so strongly. He pleaded that he wasn't as experienced as the math teacher. He didn't know whether Blake believed him or not. And he didn't care either.