New Story: No Pain, No Gain by JP71

[JP71]

[COLOR=dimgray]NO PAIN, NO GAIN[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]By JP71[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]There is a fair bit of exposition at the start of this multi-part story, but it?s worth it to get through, because I hope to make this one as engrossing as I possibly can. So I hope you don?t mind this at the beginning.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]WARNING: Some of you may not appreciate some mild scenes of a sexual nature between two adolescents. Please note that I have carefully read over them and trimmed them where necessary. Some scenes are based on a real event I experienced when I was sixteen. There was nothing perverted in it, as we were both consenting. In retrospect it was little more than ?foolin? around?, something which I?m sure many of us experienced around that age. If this kind of thing offends, please do not read. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]-James-[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]Part One: [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]Last Days at W-D[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]I remember coming to my senses, following the back-alley encounter with my abductors, only to smell lavender all around me. It was a musty reek of pressed flowers pervading my senses, catching me at the back of my throat, my eyes stinging. They focused on nothing whatsoever as salt water streamed from them, because with the bag secured around my head, everything else beyond it was a total mystery.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]I found myself calling the name of the guy I?d been blowing in that back-alley, not knowing why, but I guess I was still in shock: ?Eric??[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]I immediately received an elbow to my ribs, on the left side, the pain causing me to inhale sharply. I?d already been kicked on that side, and so I was sure that some of my ribs had been broken.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Your boyfriend isn?t here to save you, faggot. Now don?t say another fuckin? word,? a gruff, seemingly over-masculine voice informed me, and I wanted to tell my assailants and kidnappers that Eric wasn?t my boyfriend, just some fellah who?d offered me poppers in exchange for a blowjob. But I felt that my life depended on me staying quiet. I silently whimpered against my pain, wondering why there hadn?t been the reaction I?d come to expect and so often rely upon. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]The lavender sack around my head made me nauseous and I hoped I wouldn?t be sick. There was no telling what these pricks would do to me if I vomited all over the floor of their van. But could it get much worse than the shit I was already in? Of course it could. These bastards obviously meant business. But what was it with the lavender-smelling bag around my head?[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]They?d duct-taped my wrists together, although my feet weren?t likewise bound. What did they want from me? Couldn?t they simply tell from my size that I was a man not to me messed with? I could easily have broken the tape around my wrists, but I decided to see this play out a little further. Despite my size and strength, I wasn?t impervious to bullets. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]Okay, maybe I?m getting ahead of myself here. Let me rewind a little and tell you a bit about myself, and what I was up to on the night all this began... before HIS people found me...[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]My name is Julian Bentley... I know, it?s the gayest name imaginable, and I hate my mother for not giving me at least as macho a first name as possible in order to take a little of the sissy edge off my last name. And that name made life hell for me in school, the boarding school my ultra-rich parents had dumped me into, so that they could continue to jet around the world living the high-life with their super-rich coke-snorting friends without ?their little mistake? swinging out of his mother?s apron strings every chance he got. Huh, my mother wearing an apron, as if.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]Rarely a day would go by that I wasn?t picked on by the other students, and this happened right the way through to sixth-form, which I never finished, but more on that later. I was lagging behind everyone else with regard to my grades. I mean, how could any academic institution expect one of their attendees to excel with honour grades, when he would struggle to get through exams with dried blood caked in his nostrils, or nursing a twisted ankle he?d obtained whilst running for his life from a furious gang of cruel-minded crest-bearing adolescents? [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]How was he expected to pay attention in class when all he could think about was how he would be mentally/physically abused in the common room or out in the grounds after lessons? The faculty knew it was going on, but did nothing about it, something about a rite of passage, or something, survival of the fittest ? that I?d heard from another student, Gareth Blakelock, who later became the first boy I?d ever kissed ? that all of this, the bullying, the apparent indifference of the teaching staff and reluctance to get involved in schoolyard politics, was part of the Willis-Doncaster Academy?s secret curriculum. I was being tested, the whole point being that I had not been put here simply to receive a comprehensive academic education as you would expect from any school. There was something different going on at Willis-Doncaster... and it had direct links to why I?d been kidnapped, years later, from around the back of a London gay bar... and on New Year?s Eve of all nights.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]I was sixteen years old when I?d first kissed a boy. It was Gareth, the only other student at W-D who was picked on during my time there. It?s mad... now that I think about it, but it was just a coincidence that Gareth and I looked somewhat similar to Harry Potter and his friend Ronald Weaseley, I being the Potter-clone, of course, although I never wore glasses. Thank God we?d left that horrid place long before those books became films, because we may not have survived for the extra stick we?d have most likely received for our facial similarity to the tabloid-hogging actors.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]Before meeting at the nurse?s office in the east-wing of the sprawling old academy-proper, I?d only known Gareth in passing: he?d pass by with a bloodied hanky up to his face, tears washing clean channels through the grime and the blood plastered all over his face, whereas I would be almost doubled-over, winded, my hands pressing into my bruised abdomen as if my innards would explode out at any moment. Other times, and it would be me with the punched nose, with Gareth limping or gripping his side in no end of discomfort. Our eyes often met at times like this, conveying to one another more than what words could ever say. When our gazes locked, if only for a second or two, we suddenly felt each other?s pain, actually physically felt it. Magic maybe? Hardly. But it was a unique chemistry that began between us, born from our suffering, albeit a power that wouldn?t go unnoticed for too long.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?She?s in on it, you know,? were Gareth?s first words to me upon leaving Nurse Coyle?s office-cum-infirmary whilst holding up to his swollen nose the protruding end of a cotton-wool sausage with one hand, whilst in the other he held a red-coloured lollipop. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?I?m fuckin? sixteen years of age... not six,? he added when he saw my eyes ogling the sweet. He offered it to me, for clearly he could see that I was doubled over in pain, and thought it might help. In fact, Gareth knew that the lollipop would help ease the pain, because he knew what was in it. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Let me guess... Trevor fuckin? Mellor?s kneecap to the stomach. I mean, who the fuck calls their kid Trevor Mellor? No wonder he?s got issues. You?re lucky, mate. I usually get it in the balls.?[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]I smiled at Gareth?s apparent attempt to make me feel better before going in to see Nurse Coyle, instinctively pushing my knees together in order to stay the tingle I suddenly felt in my own gonads upon hearing about Gareth?s kneeing. He had an amicable kind of cheekiness about him, almost a mischievous gleam in his eye that somehow countered his less than boy-next-door looks. He was ginger-haired, with a spray of brown freckles set high on cheeks that unfortunately detracted from eyes which were slightly tilted and deliciously green. His eyebrows seemed to be permanently steepled in a slight arch beneath a brow that had become permanently furrowed with worry-lines. His expression seemed to be locked into one of constant commiseration; as if he?d been self-appointed the task of morale officer, available to anyone who needed picking up following a run-in with Mellor and his prefect lackeys.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?I?m Julian,? I said, politely, extending a somewhat trembling hand as my introduction. It was surprising that we hadn?t met long before this time, considering we were the only two students being bullied out of more than seven hundred, weird, I know. But there you have it. We?d probably passed each other by on plenty of times, our faces bloodied, dragging our feet behind us, devoid of the lustre of budding manhood.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?I know. I heard Mellor taunting you by name plenty of times.? Gareth took my hand and shook it firmly. I must admit to preferring firm handshakes over the limp-wristed ?Do I really have to talk to this person?? kind. And Gareth?s grip was extremely firm, like my own.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?And you?re Gareth... they taunt you by name too,? I said, quickly appreciating that Gareth, like myself, was one of the tallest boys at W-D. I groaned in agony as I once again clutched my stomach.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Suck the lolly, Julian. There?re pain-killers in it, the only good thing in this place by a mile. I overheard Nurse Nazi on the phone once, ordering a box of ?Adrivax Lollipops in assorted flavours?.?[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?So? That doesn?t mean they have drugs in them,? I argued, deciding maybe I should let my body heal itself in case I became addicted to medicated confectionary. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Adrivax is one of the world?s most powerful morphine substitutes. It was banned in the EU last year ?cos it?s addictive in high quantities and violates several regulations. But I think it?s okay taking it like this.? [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]Gareth leaned forwards, cupping one hand over his mouth and checking the corridor in both directions before adding: ?I?m building a file against the school, logging every criminal incident that happens here. My prick of an old man has connections at the Daily Mail. I?ve already been onto a bloke that would love to expose this place. I think he can be trusted. But he needs me to back up my claims with hard evidence. I?m planning something for today. Even gave myself this bleeder.? [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]He stopped talking and momentarily removed the cotton-wool rammed up there by the resident nurse. I liked Gareth instantly. He had a tenacious quality to him, certainly a nose for investigation despite the environment we were caught up in. I asked him what he meant by ?hard evidence?.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?I want you to search through Coyle?s files for an invoice or delivery docket... anything with ?Adrivax? printed on it... and her signature, of course. This place could be shut down on the strength of that evidence alone.? Gareth shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, not that I could blame him. My heart was now pounding in my chest, my pain further aggravated as my body became charged with adrenaline. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Wait a sec... you want me to be part of whatever it is you?re... I?m not sure I?d be...? I couldn?t think of the right words in order to plead against the inevitability of my recruitment.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?I could really use your help on this. I was going to attempt this myself, but Coyle?s attention was on me the whole time. Guess I buckled,? Gareth said, somewhat ashamedly. He went on: ?I can cause a distraction while you?re in there, making her come out here. Her filing cabinet is behind her desk in the room just off the infirmary itself. If it?s not locked try to find anything that look like invoices,? and then, drawing closer to my face, almost to the point where the tips of our noses were almost within touching distance: ?You do know what an invoice looks like, don?t you??[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Course I do, I?m not thick,? I returned, my one and only time to get annoyed with something Gareth said. That is, of course, until the violent confrontation between us when we were eighteen, the last time I ever saw him. That had to be, what, five years ago now? If only things hadn?t gotten sour between us towards the end. God, but we had been inseparable for so long.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]*****[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?That was wicked, couldn?t have gone any smoother,? said Gareth, when, an hour later, we still couldn?t believe our luck. He lay on the top bunk of the dorm he shared with Paddy Flynn, whilst I thumbed through his CD collection. He had such an old-fashioned taste in rock music, but I reckoned it was because he grew up with a music-producer for a father and something rubbed off. Gareth looked at the invoice I?d swiped from Nurse Coyle?s filing cabinet, for what must have been the twentieth time.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?You should put that away. If we?re caught with it....? I didn?t need to finish.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?It?s alright. It?s the Friday afternoon of a long weekend, as if you don?t know. Everyone?s almost gone off the grounds. Only a skeleton staff remains and about six pupils, although Tubber Grange, the fat fuck, he should count as two or three. What better a time than now to expose the shit that goes on here, eh?? Gareth did have a point there.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?You overdid it with the fake cramp pains in the corridor,? I remarked, slightly wincing at the pain in my abdomen, hardly any better since Nurse Bollocks strapped me up in bandages that were easily too tight. I tried to loosen them by sticking a finger between the bandage and my skin. I had to lift up my school shirt to do so.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Well it got her out of her place, didn?t it, the fat fuckin? cunt? I heard she?s a lezzer. But at least she was gone long enough for you to get the docket.? [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]I?d be lying if I said that Gareth wasn?t peeking at me from over the top of the nicked invoice. That was the first time I felt my balls tightening and dick twitching in my pants, that is to say, in the company of another boy. The sensation caused my cheeks to flush slightly red. I lowered my shirt-tails, but only gradually, as gradual a movement as the one Gareth made to cover the front of his pants with the vital document.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=dimgray]Diverting our attention back to the matter of the moment, I asked: ?How are you going to get this to your contact?? I pointed to the invoice on Gareth?s lap, drawn to the fact it appeared to go up in the middle.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Well a mobile phone would be ideal. I could easily just call him. But since they?re blocked at the school and we can?t leave the grounds for the whole weekend because our parents don?t want us around, we can (A) either break into the administration wing and use one of the faculty telephones, which I?m sure they monitor anyway, or (B) take an archery lesson from Groundskeeper Norris in exactly thirty minutes from now.? Immediately Gareth snapped up to a sitting position on the top bunk, swung his legs over the edge and began to roll the invoice into the tightest tube possible. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Archery?? I was at a loss as to what this was leading up to.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Trust me. This is all arranged. We?re stuck here for the long weekend, right? The Headmaster doesn?t mind us getting involved in supervised activities, however few and far between they might be. That?s where you, again, can come to my aid.? [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]I must admit that I was easily persuaded in those days, simply because I was tired of the pain, the abuse from others. But at this time I had no idea just how prevalent and important pain would become to me in the future. Gareth and I were certainly two of a kind. But, of course, we didn?t know that yet.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]When the invoice couldn?t be rolled any tighter, Gareth secured it with sticky-tape he?d removed from his pocket, and then jumped down from the bunk, checking the time on his watch. Then he did something quite unexpected. He began to unbutton his shirt. I immediately looked away, now that it was my turn to uncomfortably shift my weight from one foot to the other, trying not to look awkward or embarrassed. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]He rummaged through his belongings, pretending not to notice how I stared, longingly, at his incredible bare torso, my tongue near-lolling limply past my lips. Although his back and sides were mottled with bruises in various states of fading, his musculature was dense and defined, even rippling with the slightest movement, although he was very fair-skinned, whereas I had a sallow/olive tone to me. His broad shoulders tapered down to a tiny waist, the shape between the two a most beautifully ripped wedge of muscle. And whilst he bent over to change his socks, the seat of his trousers tightened gorgeously around a small, but discernible arse which consisted of two perfectly-globular mounds, a muscleman?s bubble-butt in an early stage of development. He straightened up, almost pirouetting around to face me, blowing a lock of red air out of his eyes through full lips that were so handsome when puckered. He caught me looking for a split second before I turned away to focus, somewhat sheepishly, on a Deep Purple poster on the wall.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?It?s okay to look, Julian. There?s nothing happening here... is there??[/COLOR][COLOR=dimgray] There was maturity in his voice now, of a quality I hadn?t noticed before. I was hard in my pants, for I simply couldn?t help it. In a school uniform Gareth Blakelock looked just like any other student, however tall for his age he might be. But with no shirt on he became someone quite different indeed. And to think, before this moment, before I?d seen him shirtless, I thought that my body was the only one in the world that looked like that.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?I dunno what you muh-mean,? I replied, trying not to stammer. Gareth moved towards me, my back turned to him, and placed both of his hands on my shoulders.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Gerroff,? I snapped, shrugging away from him, my feet propelling me towards the dormitory door. But something caused me to pause. Anyone of the other pupils could be passing by outside and see me with a stiff-one in my pants prominent enough for my shirt tails to fail at concealing. I would never live it down.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Look at me, Julian,? said Gareth, speaking in that all-too masculine and mature tone again. It won me over and I turned to face him, my eyes not quite drawing level with his. He looked at lot older than sixteen, now. But I put this down to my imagination running away with itself.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Let me unbutton your shirt,? he said softly, as sweat began to dapple my brow. My breathing became laboured, my heaving chest causing the pain in my abdomen, courtesy of Trevor Mellor, to stab at me further. But something in how Gareth seemed to take charge, made me quickly forget my discomfort. Suddenly there was pain-into-pleasure, of the gasping variety.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?What are you doing,? I gasped, my voice cracked, merely a whisper. My horn raged on in my pants, as my shorts felt like they were tightening around my bits. I really wanted to be out of my clothes and bandages at this point.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Just testing a theory as to why we?re the only two lads being tortured in this godforsaken school,? he said, now gently down to the last button, following which he tenderly lowered the opened shirt down from my wide shoulders, exposing me fully, except for the bandages that still concealed my stomach where the pain hurt the most.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]?Jesus,? was all Gareth said at that point.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]The tightly wrapped bandages made the muscles of my chest bulge out further than they normally did. I hadn?t noticed this back in Nurse Cunt?s infirmary, and I seldom checked myself out, the reason being that there were no long mirrors to be found anywhere in the school, except the small ones we had in the bathrooms for brushing our teeth and personal grooming. Even during those rare times when I would be home for Christmas (usually only just Christmas) if my parents weren?t off skiing in Austria, or basking in the sunshine of some Australian beach, I was seldom praised in any way. This meant that I?d yet to develop an appreciation of myself, physically or otherwise. Usually I would dress without using a mirror at home. And when I showered I never once wondered about myself or felt aroused in any way because of the rises and falls of the taut flesh adorning my entire body. I?d always assumed, from about the age of fourteen onwards, that my anatomical development was nothing special, that all boys in their teens were similarly developing.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]It took Gareth Blakelock less than thirty minutes in the dorm at Willis-Doncaster, to make me realise just how special I ? we ? truly were.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=dimgray]To be continued... (Second part coming real soon :-))[/COLOR]

[philat99]

Just how special??? Looking forward to chapter 2.
Mike

[Ender]

If I read that right it's an interesting twist here the guys with nice bodies are the ones being harassed, with the full knowledge and consent of the school adminstation...

Do we have something like Twilight Zone episode #42: "The Eye of the Beholder" going here.

Ender

[JP71]

Originally Posted by Ender

If I read that right it's an interesting twist here the guys with nice bodies are the ones being harassed, with the full knowledge and consent of the school adminstation...

Do we have something like Twilight Zone episode #42: "The Eye of the Beholder" going here.

Ender

Hmm, I know that episode you are referring to, where the woman is beautiful and undergoing surgery to look like the ugly freaks running a despotic world, therefore she thinks she's ugly. Yeah I suppose, now that I think of it, there is a thread of similarity with this story. But in fairness, Gareth is out to expose a sinister operation, and with Julian's help and the unique bond they develop, a gradual realisation of just how special they are, will be revealed. I dont want to say any more at this point, but your reference to "eye of the beholder" has made me think about this story in a slightly different way... which is definitely a good thing.

[Ender]

I think the despotic world government is more a feature of Episode 137 "Number Twelve Looks Just Like You" that has a similar theme...

Number Twelve Looks Just like You - 1/24/64

A totalitarian state forces people to all look like the same few people. A girl tries to keep her identity but eventually conforms and changes her appearance to be excepted and beautiful

In "Eye of the Beholder" the "Pig People" believed that they were helping the girl that wanted to be "normal"...

In "Number Twelve..." people were forced to under go a process that would make them copies of one of a few, like maybe a dozen, idealized people. Whether they want the procedure or not... The state wanted every one to be the same as everyone else... and forced everyone to comform... and lose their individual identities...

Ender

[chocomus]

hey! nice start! it's so mysterious... wanna read more!!!