november selfies underwear pic competition

November 2015  Selfies underwear picture competition.

If you press any of the pictures down below they will open as a slideshow and you can navigate trough all the pictures. Don’t forget to vote as this is a competition. You can find the form to vote underneath the pictures. Vote for the best 5 pictures of guys in underwear. If you vote and leave your e-mail you will get 5 additional pictures at the end of the competition. Your e-mail will just be used to send you the additional pictures and the results of the competition.  This is a non-commercial site.

Number 1 will get 10 points, number 2: 7, number 3: 5, number 4: 3 and number 5: 1 point. For the results so far
go here.

 

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Please fill in the fields and say what pictures you think are the best 5. If you fill in your e-mail I can send you the additional 5 and results

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hoofdstuk 15 medisch onderzoek

Shit shit … als hij maar half wist hoeveel gelijk hij had. Maar ik ontkende uiteraard. Door zijn commentaar was de aandacht uiteraard op mij gericht. Een ander merkte op : “Wow joch, je billen zien zo rood !” Wat ervoor zorgde dat mijn gezicht even rood begon te kleuren. “Van de kou ? Of van de klappen ?” Ik reageerde niet. “Krijg je nog klappen thuis ?” Ik zweeg. “Op je naakte, blote reet ?” Ik zweeg nog altijd. “Zwijgen is instemmen hé.” Ik bleef zwijgen. Wat moest ik zeggen ? Wat kon ik zeggen ? Plots begonnen een aantal jongens te skanderen : “Hij krijgt op zijn billen. Hij krijgt op zijn billen… !” Oh, ik voelde me weer zo vernederd. Zo snel mogelijk trok ik mijn zwarte turnbroekje aan en ging naar de speelplaats. Stefan onmiddellijk achter me aan. Dit keer liep hij ook in een belachelijk kort broekje – als dat me tenminste kon troosten. In mijn handen had ik de sportzak met daarin het lichtgele zwemslipje.

“Straks kleed je je samen met mij om, jochie,” fluisterde Stefan in mijn oor.

Ik knikte.

“Jij en ik in één kleedhokje, knul.”

Ik knikte nog eens. En liep verder om wat te voetballen. Viel het minder op dat we in een sportbroekje liepen. Niet dat de andere klassen nu een kort broekje aanhadden. Maar nog eens : de menselijke psyche hé…

Na de speeltijd dus richting stedelijk zwembad. Joggen.

Ik volgde Stefan naar een kleedhokje.

“Zwemslipje,” beval hij.

Ik gaf het hem.

Hij trok met één ruk het koordje eruit… Dan nam hij een schaartje en knipte de voering vooraan weg. Wat zou daarvan het gevolg zijn, dacht ik bang.

“Aantrekken.”

Ik trok het aan. Even speelde hij met mijn ballen en pik doorheen dat broekje. Het leek nog gevoeliger zonder de voering nu. Spontaan ging mijn pik alweer op drie kwart staan. Dan liet hij me met rust.

“Omdraaien !”

Ik draaide me om, zodat hij de kans had zich om te kleden, zonder dat ik hem kon bekijken.

“Zwemmen nu, joch !”

Zoals gewoonlijk ging ik zo snel ik kon naar het zwembad. Zeker nu ik hier in zo’n niemendalletje van een zwemslipje liep. Maar Stefan hield me tegen.

“Eerst douchen,” fluisterde hij bijna dreigend.

Ik volgde hem. Hij had een fleurige donkerrode zwemshort aan die bijna tot aan zijn knieën reikte. Had hij nog nooit aangehad. Misschien was het een nieuwe. Misschien speciaal gekocht om het verschil met mijn schaarsgeklede toestand wat te accentueren. Daar zou hij zeker toe in staat zijn.

De douche was weldoende warm. Het voelde zalig aan onder dat warme water. Ik merkte echter hoe Stefan mij kruis in het oog hield. Ik blikte ook even naar beneden. Nu wist ik wat de bedoeling was. De lichtgele kleur van het broekje zorgde ervoor dat het bijzonder transparant werd toen het nat was. Meer nog : het uitgeknipte voorpandje zorgde ervoor dat je duidelijk een donkere vlek schaamhaar doorheen het slipje kon zien… en ook de contouren van mijn pik waren overduidelijk te onderscheiden. Ik haatte Stefan op dit ogenblik meer dan ooit. Dat kon hij mij toch niet aan doen. Zo hier in dit openbare zwembad rondlopen. Alsof de meest vulgaire exhibitionist. Maar tegelijk richtte mijn pik zich wat op. De vernedering… tja… die maakte me ook weer geil.

De rest van de klas stond al bij de leraar, toen wij uiteindelijk ook arriveerden. De leraar bekeek me eens van kop tot teen en grijnsde wat. Ook de andere klasmakkers konden een grijnslach niet onderdrukken.

“Voor de laatkomers effen herhalen,” zei de leraar, “vandaag gaan we baantjes trekken. Je zwemt een baantje, stapt uit het zwembad en springt er aan de andere kant weer in om nog een baantje te trekken. Iedereen moet minstens 20 baantjes gezwommen hebben tegen het einde van dit lesuur. Beginnen, kerels !”

De een na de ander sprong in het water. Stefan en ik stonden achteraan in de rij aan te schuiven. Stefan dicht tegen me aan.

“Je had succes, hé, jochie,” fluisterde hij voor de andere onhoorbaar in mijn oor.

Ik kleurde hoogrood.

Stefaan stond zo dicht tegen mij aan dat hij zonder dat iemand het merkte, zijn handen op mijn billen kon leggen en mijn zwemslipje wat tussen mijn billen duwen. Ik wilde het weer beter schikken…

“Afblijven,” siste hij zacht.

Met half ontblote kont stond ik aan te schuiven. De eerste zwemmers waren ondertussen weer achteraan aan het aanschuiven. Het was een klasgroep van 20 man… dus… het duurde wel even voor iedereen te water gelaten werd. Die zagen uiteraard onmiddellijk de licht gewijzigde toestand en begonnen onmiddellijk grapjes te maken. Vreselijk vond ik het. Ook vreselijk opwindend – moet ik toegeven. Ook de langere periode van onthouding zorgde er natuurlijk voor dat mijn pik makkelijker stijf werd dan normaal het geval zou zijn. Gezien de leraar even naar de drankautomaat was om een spa-tje te halen, hadden ze bovendien nog vrij spel ook. Enkelen drumden zich dichter tegen me aan en begonnen plagend mijn billen te bespelen, zeer tot genoegen van Stefan, die dit alles maar al te graag liet gebeuren.

Eindelijk was het mijn beurt om in het water te springen. Stefan sprong bijna onmiddellijk achter mij aan. Vermoedelijk om in de buurt te kunnen blijven. Hij haalde mij ook niet in, hoewel hij meestal een veel betere zwemmer was dan ik. Tijdens het zwemmen, en zeker bij het springen, merkte ik ook het gevolg van het verwijderen van het koordje. Mijn zwemslipje zakte wat naar beneden. Tijdens het zwemmen kon ik daar uiteraard niet veel aan doen. Toen ik aan de overkant kwam, merkte ik dat het slipje vlak boven mijn pik hing en dat aan de achterkant de bovenkant van mijn bilspleet ruimschoot bloot. Net voor ik uit het water stapte wou ik dat allemaal even rechtzetten (he he – sorry voor het woord), maar Stefan siste : “Afblijven !”

In die nog blotere toestand keerde ik dus naar de andere kant van het zwembad terug. Dit was niet leuk meer. Ik merkte het jolijt bij mijn klasmakkers op. Ik zag ook dat andere badgebruikers mijn penibele toestand opmerkten en er ook ruimschoots aandacht aan schonken. Ik schaamde me dood. Aan de andere kant aangekomen begonnen enkele klasmakkers plagend aan mijn niemendalletje te pulken… vermoedelijk in de hoop dat het helemaal zou afzakken. Gelukkig gebeurde dat niet. De natte toestand zorgde ervoor dat het wat aan mijn billen plakte, zodat het niet zo makkelijk naar beneden te schuiven was. Maar aan de voorkant was er weinig aan de verbeelding overgelaten. Je kon mijn pik er zo doorheen zien.

Bij mijn tweede sprong in het water merkte ik dat het broekje nog verder afzakte. Ik vreesde mijn aankomst nu al. Want Stefan zou wellicht weer sissen dat ik er moest afblijven… Wat hij inderdaad ook deed. Ondertussen was de leraar terug. Hij bekeek me en vroeg me spottend : “Kun je niets deftigers aantrekken, knul ?” Ik kleurde nog roder dan ik al was. Och, ik schaamde me zo. Er lag boosheid in zijn stem. Maar ook spot. Alsof ook hij van mijn vernedering genoot. Sportleraars zijn wel vaker rare snuiters… En zeker de onze… denk maar aan onze bijnaam, nietwaar… dankzij de maatregel die hij genomen had.

“Zo kan je niet zwemmen,” zei hij. Hij gaf me een schrijftablet met de klassenlijst erop. “Blijf jij maar aan de rand staan en zet een streepje telkens iemand een baantje getrokken heeft.”

Erger kon dus niet. Ik kreeg geen seconde meer waarop ik me kon verbergen in het zalige water. Ik moest de hele tijd ten aanschouwen van iedereen te kijk staan. In de stevig afgezakte zwembroekje.

“Ondertussen ga ik effen pauze nemen in de bar,” ging de leraar verder.

Het kon dus toch nog erger. Nu was ik helemaal overgeleverd aan mijn klasmakkers. Zonder enig toezicht. En ze genoten ervan. Telkens ze me voorbijkwamen maakten ze spottende opmerkingen. Telkens Stefan aan het zwemmen was, kwam ik in de verleiding tot een zeker “adjustment” zoals dat zo mooi heet in de sportwereld. Maar ik waagde het niet. En telkens Stefan voorbijliep siste hij even vastberaden : “Afblijven.”

Dit was het langste lesuur ooit voor mij. Te kijk staan. Zo gekleed onder dwang. Spottende opmerkingen alom. De tranen stonden mij in de ogen. Gelukkig had ik mijn verweer klaar : “De chloor prikkelt mijn ogen…” Of iemand dat zou geloven ? Geen idee van. Want tenslotte had ik maar twee baantjes gezwommen.

Na de zwemles was het douchen. Eerst liep ik nog even de bar binnen naar de leraar om hem zijn document terug te bezorgen. Ook in de bar kreeg ik meer dan de aandacht die ik wenste. Van vooral volledig aangeklede mensen.

“Vandaag krijg je je 20 baantjes cadeau,” zei de leraar naar mijn gevoel veel te luid, “maar trek volgende keer iets gepastere kledij aan !” Gelach alom in de bar. Ik kon door de grond zinken.

Nu vervoegde ik mijn klasmakkers in de douche. Zoals ik altijd deed, hield ik ook dit keer mijn zwembroekje aan. De meesten deden dat trouwens. Enkele binken waagden het hun zwembroek uit te trekken en helemaal naakt te douchen. Zonder dat daarop gereageerd werd. Want dat waren de haantje-de-voorsten van de klas. De voortrekkers. Degenen aan wie niemand durfde raken. De untouchables. Toen die mij zo zagen aankomen, kwamen ze op mij toe en rukten mijn broekje naar beneden.

“Na de show die je vandaag gaf, kan je gerust zo douchen, kneusje,” spotten ze, “want veel heb je toch niet meer te verbergen.”

Ik slikte even. En deed het maar. Ze hadden uiteindelijk gelijk. Helemaal naakt was nu zelfs beter dan met dat belachelijke dingetje aan. Stefan die nog steeds in zijn zwembermuda stond, genoot van dit alles. Na de douche droogde ik me vlug af, trok mijn jockstrap weer aan en mijn turnkledij… en probeerde zo snel mogelijk weer op school te zijn. Om verdere confrontaties te vermijden

hoofdstuk 16

chapter 57 of Tim and Michel

I looked again and thought about what would happen that evening. No, this was not a good time to mention it to Michel just now.

“Turn around.”

He looked at me but did what I asked.

With one hand on each side, I reached around him until I found the buttons of his trousers. I heard him take a deep breath while I opened them. Before I undid the last one, though, they fell down on their own. He then pushed his underwear down. I stepped beside him and let him lean on me. We then slowly walk towards the bathroom. It was a good thing he had an en suite … otherwise this would have been embarrassing.

I pushed him towards the door to the shower. I opened it and motioned him to go in. “You can hold onto the side railing,” I said.

“Hmmm,” he moaned.

When he got in, he turned around and looked at me. “Please stay with me, in case I can’t do it alone.”

I smiled. For a moment. I’d been afraid he would ask me to join him … and. in my current state … yeah, I got hard the moment I started to undo his trousers … I’d better not.

“No worries … just yell if you need anything.”

I looked around and found a chair to sit on just beside the sink. Michel, though, hadn’t moved and my eyes were now level with his crotch. He looked good … an interesting set of balls and a nicely shaped dick, I thought. I’m sure I blushed a bit. Michel saw the effect he’d had on me … and he slowly turned around while keeping himself steady with one hand on the railing. He turned on the water. Luckily for me, it started to steam up quite quickly. I adjusted my own hard on a bit. I looked around for a towel as that was probably the next thing he was going to ask for. I saw one lying on the side of the cupboard beside the shower.

I tried to imagine what Michel was dealing with to cause all of this upset … his lethargic state … his nervousness. He just didn’t look like himself. I realised that guilt must have been a part of it but I could hardly guess how he felt.

The water stopped and he pushed the door open.

“Towel?” he said.

I handed it to him.

“Hmmm … I can’t keep myself upright and dry myself off with one hand,” he pointed out … more embarrassed now.

It seemed that his reluctance to ask for help had disappeared.

I had to be careful and not laugh. “Here … step out of the shower first … then lean on the sink.”

He stepped out and stood with his face to the sink. I started to dry his back, then his arms. I bent over and did his legs. “OK … if you can, turn around.””

“Don’t want to but need to,” he said.

“How did you do this on your own recently?”

“Either I didn’t … or I washed sitting down,” he said while turning around.

“You OK with this?” I whispered.

“Go on, Jamey.”

I slowly dried the front of his legs and moved up towards his crotch. I rubbed it lightly but moved towards his stomach when I felt a reaction. I then put the towel around him and said, “Let’s get you dressed. The others might be getting anxious by now.”

I got some clean clothes out of his closet and dressed him. He looked at himself in the mirror.

“Hmmm … that’s the best I’ve looked in weeks, Jamey. You’ve got a good fashion sense.”

I knew he was partly right … but I also saw that his shirt was way too big and his trousers were just hanging onto his slim hips. I just hoped that everyone else would see it as well. Otherwise I knew I’d have to make a comment at least to Michel’s uncle about his condition later in the evening.

I hesitated for one second when he started to walk to the door.

“You OK, Jamey?” he said, his voice now sounding stronger.

“Yeah … just sit down for a moment before we go down, OK, Michel?”

He looked at me but did as I asked.

“The idea was to ambush you and lead you downstairs without you realising what was going to happen … but I can’t.”

He started to tremble a bit then … not as scared as I thought … but I hoped I could convince him to go down with me anyway. He didn’t say anything, so I continued.

“I think you thought that only Martin’s downstairs … but I’m not sure he coming. I do know that others will be here soon. There should be a whole group downstairs.”

“Why? To cheer me up?” he asked.

“No … well … maybe partly … but we’re all here because of Karl.”

“Karl … as in the old bloke that was at the party?”

“Yeah … him. Let me explain.” I told him about Karl’s visit and the conversation we had.

“So you’re all here because you think that Karl has found Tim?”

“I’m not sure, Michel … maybe he hasn’t found him … but he might know where we might need to look. He might need our help looking.”

“So … everyone is down there?”

“Maybe … they hadn’t all arrived when I came up.”

“I’m not sure I want to see them, Jamey.”

“I understand … but don’t you want to find Tim?”

He started crying then. I moved beside him and, before I could do anything to comfort him, his head was resting on my shoulder. I didn’t know what to say. Maybe the best thing to do was just to let it happen.

It took a while for him to regain control. I then slowly pushed his head back up.

“It’s my fault, Jamey. I did this to him. He never wanted to see me again. I’m not sure I wanted to see him again, either, to be honest.”

Wow! I knew something like that might come up … but now what? I wasn’t sure I could help him with that. I could say something very wrong if I wasn’t careful, I thought.

“I know, Michel … I know. But didn’t Tim realise he was wrong before we left? He knew you weren’t to blame.”

“Maybe … but, still … I left him there … on his own … not able to defend himself.”

“If anyone is to blame, it’s his mother, Michel. If it hadn’t happened this time … then it would have happened some other time.”

“Maybe … but I should have been there to protect him from it.”

“We all should have been there to help, Michel,” I said … as I knew I wouldn’t be able to get him through that. He needed professional help to sort out his feelings.

“But, for now … let’s go downstairs and see what Karl has to say, OK? No harm in that, is there?”

“No … I guess not. I know everyone down there.”

“Yeah … they’re all good friends, Michel.”

I stood up and he reluctantly followed.

“Lean on me when you need to,OK?” I said to make sure he knew I was there to support him.

We slowly went downstairs. I opened the door to the living room and, when I looked around, we were greeted by a lot of smiles. They weren’t sure I could convince him to join us. Michel’s uncle stepped forward and hugged him. It was a loving hug that lasted a long time and I think that, as they held each other, I heard Michel sob again. My granddad stepped closer and, when Michel saw the approach, he retreated a bit. “Good to see you again, sir,” he said with a bit of a phony smile on his face.

I looked at Michel’s uncle with a questioning look as I wondered where the others were. It was quiet in the house … but the rest must have arrived by now. He saw my look and pointed to the kitchen. I nodded.

“I thought there’d be others here as well.” I saw Michel’s dad give me a look this time. “I told him,” I admitted. “I though he deserved that at least.”

“OK … everyone else is in the kitchen.”

“I think everything is OK … so let’s bring everyone in.”

I felt Michel retreat closer to me as the door opened and everyone slowly entered the room. Brandon was the first one to move close to us. He opened his arms and, again. just like like his uncle, he took the opportunity to hug Michel … who I saw relaxed a bit with the contact.

“Thanks for being here, Brandon,” Michel whispered.   Brandon looked surprised and smiled gently as he said, “There’s no thanks needed, Michel. I just wanted to see you happy and OK.”

Michel nodded. He looked around. The others were nervously a bit distance. They said hello … or waved timidly.

I think most of us felt a bit awkward by the situation.

“Good … we’re all here now. Karl … I think it’s your turn to explain why you got us all here.”

Karl made his way to the front.

“To start … I’m sorry that this has happened, Michel. But I think we might have a way to find him.”

“How did you come to that conclusion, Karl?” Michel’s uncle asked.

“Well … let’s just say that I’ve heard stories before of people, mostly youngsters, being abducted like that. Some of them luckily escaped … but have kept a low profile. When I heard Michel’s uncle’s story last weekend, I knew there might be a pattern, But to find him we’ll need help. I was afraid the police wouldn’t be able to do anything, as it would be too conspicuous and drive the perpetrators underground.”

“You asked around?” Michel’s dad enquired.

“Yeah … I did. I visited them together with Jamey’s granddad on Monday. Though they couldn’t act on their suspicions, they told me enough to confirm my guess where he might be. They can’t look into it … but they can help us if they can … especially if we find him.”

“OK …so we go undercover or something … and they’ll help us when we find him?”

“Something like that … but there’s no need to go undercover or anything. We don’t want them to try to capture anyone else.”

“So … what did you find out?”

“On Sunday morning I contacted one of the people that escaped from them. I had a lengthy talk with him about what happened to him. He was naturally reluctant to go into detail … but he told me enough to let me formulate a plan.”

“What did he tell you?” my granddad asked.

Karl looked around. “I’m not sure you want to hear this … but, on the other hand, you need to know what we’re up against.” No one said a word … we just waited … probably prepared for the worst.

“He told me that it felt like brainwashing. He was kept locked up for the first few weeks, with little outside contact. Then slowly … more and more … he was introduced to religion. All day long … readings on tape … sermons … and then the second stage, he said, had been hard. He called it bringing him to a state of denial about his feelings. He said it was painful and tiring as they never stopped. In the end he surrendered. He knew his feelings hadn’t changed … but he just wanted the relentless assault to stop.

He was then placed with a family which kept a very close eye on him. When he asked why they were doing this, they said it was to help me … to heal me … to make sure I’d feel loved. They told him that, if he did something wrong, he’d be punished … but if he followed orders, he was slowly allowed to go out and meet others … others who were already converted. In the end, he was allowed out at least once a week to go to church. He said that he saw that as his opportunity: he worked on getting more and more fit … he did a lot of exercises … and he built up his strength. In the end, he escaped simply by outrunning them.”

“Wow!!! Did he know where he was held?”

“No … he was driven in a darkened car to church. He knew the house he stayed in only from the inside. But he know where the church is. That’ll be our starting point to look.”

“OK … that sounds like a feasible approach, I guess,” Michel’s uncle said.

Most of the others nodded. During the story, I must be honest … my eyes had wandering towards Martin and I felt that he had been looking at me, too. At one point, I’d seen him looking and I’d given a slight hand sign to tell him to come and stand by me. He took his time but, towards the end of Karl’s story, he stood beside me. We smiled at each other. I reached out to take his hand. I felt excited to be holding his hand …. but even more, I could smell Martin … and I loved it. I’m not sure I realised that I’d sunk into a daze … but when my granddad gave me a little push, I came back to reality to focus on what was happening.

“So … what’s next? What can we do?” Michel’s uncle said. “Do you have some kind of plan?”

“Yeah, I do. I think the best thing to do would be, first, to stake out the church … and then maybe widen the search to families who might be holding Tim.”

“You think he’s already been placed with a family?” Michel’s dad asked.

“Yes, sir. I think he might be.”

“What are you basing that on?” he asked.

“I’m not sure you want to hear this … but let’s just presume that Tim’s submissive nature might make him go along with this process a little bit easier that others might.”

“Oh!” Michel’s’ dad said. That wasn’t really the answer that he’d been expecting.

“You think they used that approach?” Brandon asked. We youngsters all had been quiet … but I could see we all had questions.

…. So what does Karl think? Leave a comment at the bottom of the page so we can discuss this. Or send me an email

chapter 58

chapter 56 of Tim and Michel

Chapter 56 of Tim and Michel

[William and I chatting]

“I only knew one way I thought he might respond to me. I told him to stand to attention and drop his trousers. When I said that, his eyes grew large and he looked at me. I saw a teardrop run down his cheek … but I also saw him move to obey. As he stood beside the bed he dropped his hands to his trousers and started to open and lower then. He didn’t hesitate at all. This is what he wanted … and needed.”

“You mean … he was hard?” I asked.

“Yeah … very aroused. I looked at him and said, ‘You’re not listening to anyone, Martin. Your approach isn’t going to work. I’m not sure you want my help … but you’re making a mess of everything. If you want to go to military school, just tell me … and I’ll walk away’. ”

“He looked shocked when I mentioned military school. He bowed his head and waited for me to continue. ‘You’re totally out of control, Martin. This can’t go on. Dad will send you off, no question. You can kiss Jamey goodbye then’.”

“He didn’t move.  I asked him what I needed to do. He didn’t say anything but he moved towards the bed. He laid down on his back with his legs up … his way to tell me he needed a spanking. I gave him 15 hard ones on each of his cheeks. By the time I was finished, he was crying softly. I told him to sit up and I held him. I asked him why he was behaving like this. While he cried, he whispered that he couldn’t go on like this. After he met you last time that weekend, he promised himself that he wouldn’t cum anymore unless you allowed it. I looked at him shocked at that point.

‘You haven’t had an orgasm since then?’ I asked.

“He nodded. ‘So you’re pretty horny, aren’t you?’ I asked.

“He nodded again. I wasn’t sure what to do about that. I know that, when I’m horny, I’ll do almost anything … so I was getting to understand what he was willing to do. At that point he was looking down submissively again. I took his chin in my hand and lifted his face up. ‘There’s only one thing now that we can do then, isn’t there, Martin?.’

“He pleaded, “No … please … not that.’

” ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘You need to cum, Martin … otherwise, you’ll lose control again … something bad will happen.   We can’t let that happen. But this isn’t a game, William. I won’t play. I’ll have to make you just do what I want, won’t I?’

He didn’t looked very pleased but I could tell that he knew I was right. I laid him on the bed and lifted his legs up in the air so I could reach his ass. I told him I was going to hit him just as long as it took him to cum. I was going to make sure he was going to touch himself and masturbate. It took me about 20 minutes and about 40 spanks on each cheek before he touched himself. He was subbing then and I knew he was ready. After that, it only took 30 seconds or so or before he came all over himself. As he slowly came to his senses , we talked. I told him mom was on his side but that it would take some convincing for dad to agree … and that his present behaviour would be just the thing to prevent dad from agreeing. So I hope his behaviour will change … so you can come to dinner soon.”

“Wow … I didn’t know you had that in you, William.”

“Me neither … but I knew it was necessary to get him to stop his self-destructive behaviour and bring him in line for the sake of all of us. I’m not sure whether he’s still mad … as he really didn’t want to cum. You might need to explain to him somehow that he needs to release his tensions because I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not doing it again. At his age he needs to cum at least once a day.”

“Maybe I can do that on Wednesday … we’ll see.”

“We’d better get back to class. I’ll let you know tomorrow, OK?”

“Yeah … that’s OK.”

The next thing on my schedule was lunch. I got to the cafeteria and looked around. On the far right side I saw Brandon sitting with Dennis and Paul and some of their friends. I slowly walked over to them. My eye caught Martin on the other side. I smiled and saw that he noticed. He even winked this time. I felt my knees go all wobbly. I walked on. As I got close to Brandon’s table, I tried to make sure that he noticed me. Getting no response, I was about to walk away when Dennis saw me.

“Hey, Jamey … good to see you!!! Pull up a chair and sit down.”

I smiled and said. “Hi … Dennis … Paul … Brandon.”  I looked at the others and said to them, “Hi … I’m Jamey.”

I heard greetings and everyone introduced themselves. I didn’t get any question how they knew me. I sat down beside Brandon. He sat back a bit and whispered to me, “You OK?”

““Yeah … thanks for letting me join you.”

“Why wouldn’t we, Jamey?”

“I talked with Dennis and Paul … and they’ll be there for sure. I contacted Winston and Daniel and they might be there, too … but they can’t be sure yet.”

“OK … well, William is going to try to push his mother but we might need the police to request their help to get them going.”

“Well … that’s enough to get started … we can always see who else we can mobilise, if necessary.”

“You talked with Martin, too?”

“No … just with William. But he also told me his mother is trying to push his dad to invite me for dinner … to get to know me … so who knows what will happen?”

“That sounds like progress to me, to be honest.”

“I know … but I’m not sure I want to go to dinner and be in the spotlight like that.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“We’ll see what happens.”

“Hey, Jamey,” Dennis said. “It’s good to see you. How are you … and how are things going with Martin?”

I realised at that point that he didn’t know.

“No, we’re not together for the time being, Dennis. I haven’t talked with him at all.”

“Oh, bugger!” he said.

I could see that he didn’t know what to say

“But we can’t give up. I know Martin won’t … and I won’t, either.”

“Good. You’re going to be there on Wednesday evening?”

“Yeah, I will and maybe William and Martin will be there, too. How are things between you and Paul?”

“Let’s just say that everything is in the open now and, so far, it seems that everyone’s reaction has been positive … so that’s good.”

“And you?”

He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I was kind of forced to it but, in my heart, I knew it was the right thing to do. Whenever Paul got any attention from someone else, I pulled him back to me. I realised that that’s what I’ve been doing … ignoring him and then regretting it and having to get him back. He said he felt he was being played with and I’m really sorry that he feels that way. But we talked it through.”

“Good.”

“Do you have any idea what that Karl guy has as a lead, Jamey?”

“No, not really. All we can do is wait and see.”

Not a lot happened during the next two days. On Wednesday morning I had a chat with Brandon and it appeared that everyone was going to be there … so that at least was something. I’d seen Michel but he kept to himself. I got a call around 4 p.m. from Michel’s uncle, asking if I could be at Michel’s place around 6:30 as we’d have to prepare the family for the arrival of the others. It seems that they still hadn’t been told anything.

We left around 6 and, when we got to Michel’s place, I saw that his uncle was waiting for us in the car. We got out and together we all walked towards the door. I tried to keep breathing normally while we did it.

Before he could ring the bell, the door was opened by Michel’s father.

“Hi This is a surprise … I didn’t expect you to come around.”

“I know … I would have called ahead if I would have known that everybody would stay home for my arrival.”

Michel’s dad looked surprised and then said, “Come in … you’ve made me quite curious.”

Then he saw that we were behind. He asked, “And who are you?”

“They’re with me. Let’s get inside so we can explain.”

“OK ,” Michel’s dad said carefully.

We followed them into the house. We sat down at a very large table at the north side of the living room.

“So who might have run?”

“Michel probably.”

“Oh … this is about him, is it?”

“Yeah … you have to admit … this can’t go on like it has been.”

That comment suggested that they’d argued about this subject before.

“Hmmm … I guess … but what are you planning?”

“A get together of Michel’s friends this evening.”

“Ahhh … even those who were there that weekend,” he said. “Now I recognised you guys.”

“I’m Jamey, sir … and I’m sorry for the way we met.”

“It’s a little late for the apology now, isn’t it?”

“No apology was necessary, sir,” granddad said. “Jamey just gave you one out of politeness.”

“And you’re his sugar daddy?”

“No, I’m his grandfather.”

Michel’s dad now blushed in embarrassment.

“That was way out of line,” a women’s voice said from the door while she was looking at her husband.

“Sorry, honey.”

“It’s not me you need to say sorry to.”

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t know.”

I thought that Michel’s dad had accepted Michel being gay … but there seemed to be some unresolved issues that were coming to light now.

“No problem,” my granddad said. “We’ve all been under stress and I presume you’re still trying to deal with it all.”

“Just look at what all this has done to Michel. He’s changed completely. He used to be very talkative and outgoing … but now we hardly see him. He spends all his time in his room.”

“I know … it’s had an effect on all of everybody. And we can’t start any healing until Tim has been found.”

“I agree. I’ve talked with Tim’s dad on a regular basis but I can’t even get myself to give him a ring after the argument we had before we went to the place that weekend.”

“Well, that’s the other thing we’re here about,” Michel’s uncle added.

“Oh … so you’ve invited him over, too?”

“No, not his dad. We need to find Tim and so far, no one is making an effort.”

“You know where to look for him then?”

“No … but we know someone who might.”

“Ahhh … who?”

“Let me explain.” Michel’s uncle then told what had happened during the last few days and how he had been in contact with Karl, the police and my grandfather. Also that, at Karl’s request, we’d rallied the troops to be here tonight to plan some action.

“Hmmm. Does that mean we’re having a big group of visitors in a moment?” Michel’s mom asked.

“I’m afraid so … in about 15 minutes.”

“Then I’d better put the kettle on.”

It seemed she didn’t mind as she just went back through the door she had come from … the door I thought led to the kitchen.

“So you’re getting everyone together … but you have no idea what this Karl knows or what he’s going to propose?”

“To be honest, brother … I don’t really care. I think it’s just important to get everyone together and, if something comes out of that … so much the better.”

“I don’t know if that’s really a good idea. I’m not sure if Michel can handle any more surprises or disappointments. You know what I mean?”

I saw Michel’s uncle nodding his head thoughtfully as a startled look appeared on my granddad’s face.

“It might be an idea if Jamey goes up to see if Michel wants to come down,” my granddad suggested.

“Yeah … why don’t you give it a go? Tell him his uncle is here … that might help. Don’t tell him there’s more people coming … he might hide or run then. Go up the stairs … it’s the second door on the right.”

I got up and went up the stairs. When I arrived on the upper landing, I saw one door to the left and three to the right. I knocked on the middle one. I didn’t hear anything and decided to knock again.

“No, mom … I don’t need anything. Just leave me alone,” I heard Michel say through the door but his voice lacked conviction. Indeed, he spoke without any emotion whatsoever.

I knocked again. “Go away … I’m fine.”

OK … that was my opening, I thought.

“If you’re fine, Michel, you can let me in,” I said quite loudly as I wanted to make sure he could hear me.

There was silence for a second and then I heard Michel ask, “Is that you, Jamey?”

“Of course, it’s me.”

“Why are you here?”

“Visiting you.”

“I don’t want visitors.”

“I know … but I came anyway.”

“Go away. I’m terrible company at the moment.”

“Really? I can’t tell as there’s this thick door between us.”

He didn’t reply.

“Michel … open the door,” I said with a more forceful voice.

No response again. I guess he was trying to play chicken.

I waited two minutes or so … making him believe I’d left.

“I’m going to count to ten Michel, and by the time I get there, you’d better have opened the door or I’m going to bust it in.”

“No, you won’t … cause you’ll get into trouble with my dad.”

“No, I won’t. He gave me permission. So what’s it going to be? Open the door or have an open door permanently?”

I didn’t hear any response so I started to count “1, 2, 3, 4 …” and then I saw the handle of the door move slowly.

“Please don’t do this, Jamey. I really don’t want to see anyone.”

“I know, Michel … I understand … but shared pain is easier to deal with, you know.”

He opened the door a bit further and then fell into my arms, his head on my shoulders, and gently he started to sob. At first softly and then louder. Now what? I asked myself. I stood there for a little while and then I got an idea. As his crying slowed, I opened the door with my foot a bit more and slowly pushed us into his room.

His room smelled. It was dark in there and now I realised that I could smell Michel’s body odour as well. It was pretty strong. I pushed him away a bit from me and gave him a gentle smile. “See? It’s not that bad, is it?”

He gave me a tiny smile in return.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Not at all. You’ve brought us all together … and that’s more important.”

He didn’t respond but instead said again. “I’m sorry.”

I lifted his chin and looked into his eyes. “For what, Michel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing is your fault.”

“Tim’s not here … they’re hurting him,” he said quietly.

I tried not to look shocked as he said that.

“How do you know that?” I whispered back.

“I can feel it,” he replied.

I thought about what to do now. This was for a professional to deal with, I thought.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Michel.”

“Why? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh, yes, you are. We’re expected downstairs in a moment. You don’t want the others to see your room, do you?”

“Oh … is Martin with you? Yeah, I wouldn’t mind seeing him.”

“So what do you say/ Let’s put you in the shower.”

The last thing I wanted to do is tell him that a lot of people would be there.

“You help me, Jamey.”

“You don’t need help, Michel.”

“Oh, yes, I do. I can hardly stand up at the moment.”

I tried to see if he was right as I let go of him.

He started to wobble on his feet and then fell back on the bed.

I wasn’t sure if he was playing with me or if this was real.

“What are you doing, Michel? What is going on? Why?”

He didn’t answer me … so I decided that the only way to proceed was to get him out of his clothes and into the shower.

“OK, then … let me help you.”

I got close to him and started to take his shirt off. I almost stopped as I lifted his shirt over his head. Damn!!! I knew where this was going. Didn’t his parents know, I wondered.

…. So what is going on you think? Leave a comment at the bottom of the page. Or send me an email

Chapter 57