Hard Corps (6 page)

After a moment I heard it again, a long, low moan. There was a rustling and a strange swishing sound whistling through the air. Curiosity outweighed trepidation as I got up and tried to follow the memory of the sound. It seemed to be coming from the trees to the left of the tower. I edged closer, holding my breath, wishing I wasn’t weighed down by the heavy backpack full of schoolbooks on my shoulders. Slowly, I crawled until I was so close to the source of the sound that I could hear someone breathing heavily. Carefully, holding my breath, I lifted my head until I was peeking over a thicket of small bushes.

What I saw wrenched a gasp from me before I realised I was making a sound. My hand flew up to silence my mouth, which remained open in surprise. None of the three figures standing there seemed to have heard me. They were only a few feet away. I realised with another start that I knew the boy in the middle. It was Brady! Sam Brady and two older guys, both dressed in black. Sam was naked! His lean, muscled frame was stretched taut between two trees, coils of soft rope wound tight around his wrists and ankles. I stared, my mouth open. My eyes fell to his naked sex. His cock was rigid, long and thin, the balls heavy beneath, covered in dark-auburn curls. His cock was erect! So, whatever the hell was going on seemed to suit him, apparently.

In the light of the stars I could see that his body was crisscrossed with thin, pink lines. Each man on either side of him wielded a long, thin rod, perhaps of bamboo. I realised they were beating him with the switches! This went past any hazing that I had ever heard of on this campus. My impulse was to leap into the group and fight both men, while simultaneously freeing Sam from his bonds (even as a kid I always identified with the hero, not the damsel in distress). But something kept me back.

It was Sam’s expression. It wasn’t one of fear, or even pain. As I eyed his naked body, again fixing on the erect cock with its tip glistening, I could see that he was enjoying their harsh treatment of him. I watched in fascination as they took turns marking his pale flesh with their bamboo whips. After several minutes they stopped. Sam remained bound, eyes shut, his mouth open, breathing hard.

No one had said a word, but on some silent signal, one of the men dropped to his knees in front of Sam. They were at such an angle that I could clearly see him open his mouth wide and lower his head on to Sam’s still-rigid member. I watched, transfixed, as he took Sam’s long, rigid cock in as far as it would go. He started to pull back, but the second man was behind him now. He pressed the kneeling man’s head forward, forcing him to take Sam’s cock until his face was pressed against Sam’s pubic bone. Sam moaned and moved his hips slightly. For the first time, the man still standing spoke.

‘Don’t move, slave! Who told you to move?’

Sam’s eyes flew open and I ducked. If he had turned his head slightly, he might have seen me.

The man continued to speak. ‘You stay perfectly still while this slut sucks you off. Don’t come until I tell you, but make sure you come when you are told. And you — ’ I presumed he was now addressing the kneeling man, though I hadn’t dared to lift my head again ‘ — you suck that cock like your life depended on it. Because guess what, boy? It does.’

There was silence, except the small, slurping sounds as the guy continued to suck Sam’s cock. Slowly, I angled myself until I could see through a chink in the bushes. My vision was now somewhat obscured by branches and bracken, but I could still make them out. The standing man had dropped his pants and was masturbating furiously over the back of the kneeling boy, whose shirt he had pulled up. After a few minutes he cried, ‘OK, slave. Come! Come now and make sure he doesn’t spill a drop. Now!’

Semen gushed in little spurts over the back of the kneeling guy, while I saw Sam arch forward, his eyes clenched tight, as he moaned and jerked in evident orgasm. It was silent and still for a moment as they all collected themselves.

Then, at a signal from the man in charge, he and his ‘assistant’ untied Sam, letting him fall forward as the ropes were released. He slumped, naked, to their feet and pressed his head against the hard ground. They looked at him for a moment, naked and prostrate at their black-booted feet. Then, without another word, they disappeared into the darkness, leaving Sam, still naked, kneeling, his head touching the ground, his thin back rising and falling with his still-ragged breathing.

I stayed very still, my heart thudding in my ears. Should I go to him? Was he hurt? Before I had a chance to make any decisions, Sam was up. He walked over to a little pile of what I saw were his clothes, and gingerly he pulled them on over his marked body. Then he too was gone, having slipped through the trees as silently as a night animal. I was left alone with the stars still sparkling overhead.

I realised with a small shock that my panties were soaking. Watching Sam be whipped and then sucked off by another man had aroused my body, even while my mind was busy with its virtuous outrage. Knowing I should be getting back to the dorm, but too horny to care, I sat back on my heels and let my fingers find my throbbing clit. Images of Sam, naked and at the mercy of those two strange men, were overlain with memories of Jacob, holding me down, fucking me hard. Fast and furious, I fucked myself with my hand, alone in the dark, until I came with a little gasp of my own.

Standing, heart still pounding from the whole experience, I quickly retrieved my backpack, which had slipped off during my play. As I turned back toward the centre of campus, I thought I heard a sound. I looked in the direction of the sound, standing as still as I could for some seconds. I didn’t want to get caught out without a pass, my face flushed from the recent bizarre events I had witnessed, and my own little solo adventure in the dark. When I heard nothing further, I decided it must have been a squirrel or a bird. I headed back to the barracks, full of curiosity about what I had witnessed.

*   *   *

The next afternoon, Amelia and I were eating lunch in the dining hall. We were just about finished when Sam Brady joined us at the table. Setting down his tray, he nodded toward us, silently asking permission to join us. Amelia smiled, nodding her assent. I stared at this fresh-faced boy, his glasses slightly askew. Could he possibly be the same guy I had seen strung up and naked the night before? I looked down, hoping the heat I felt in my face wasn’t translating itself into a bright-red blush. But Sam seemed perfectly at ease, smiling as he sat down next to us at the table. I couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as we ate. He seemed oblivious of my scrutiny, as he stuffed fried chicken and corn bread into his mouth like a man with a mission.

‘Well,’ Amelia whispered, defying the no-talking rule in the dining room, ‘I have Special Calisthenics at 1300 hours. I’d better not be late. See ya’ll later.’

We both watched her walk away. Sam seemed to stare at her with a special intensity. He looked back at me, as if he were about to speak, to ask something, but he reconsidered and looked down thoughtfully at his plate. I picked at the last of my apple pie while Sam finished off his meal with slurping gulps of milk from his carton. I was wondering what Special Calisthenics were, anyway. I realised that I never did see Amelia in any of my gym classes. Maybe she got to be in a special class because she wasn’t as physically fit as the rest of us. I made a mental note to ask her, albeit delicately, so as not to offend.

Just then an upperclassman strolled by our table. We both sat up straighter, ready to stand and salute if he came any closer. He didn’t, but he looked over at us and, as he did, Brady laid his hands on the table. Slowly, he crossed his wrists in that peculiar fashion, one bony wrist resting on the other, just as I had seen him do once before. I looked at him but he was looking down, head bowed, back very straight. Once the guy was out of sight, Brady relaxed and resumed the last of his meal.

When he stood to put away his tray and leave, I stood with him. I hadn’t decided yet whether to confront him about what I had seen. I had, after all, been out without permission when I spied him. And how did one bring it up? Oh, by the way, why were you naked and tied between two trees while some guys whipped you and then sucked you off? As I followed him out of the mess hall, I decided on a safer tactic.

‘Sam,’ I ventured, ‘I just have to ask. What the hell is that wrist thing you keep doing?’ He didn’t answer but he looked uncomfortable. ‘Come on, Brady, is it some secret hand signal for some Mickey-Mouse secret club you’re in, or what?’

Sam flushed suddenly.

‘I’m too obvious,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how to be subtle. There are ways of doing it without drawing attention, but I’m too theatrical.’ He turned from me, still not answering my question.

‘Are you going to tell me? Or speak in riddles all day? Because I have a class to get to, too, you know. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s none of my business.’ I started to walk away, pretending to give up on mysterious Mr Brady.

‘I have to go, Remy. Maybe later.’ Maybe never, from the sound of his voice. Some devil got into me as I watched him walk away, and I said, quietly, ‘And it’s none of my business if you like to hang around the bell tower after hours with mysterious upperclassmen in black.’

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. For a long moment he stood perfectly still. He turned slowly toward me then, and his face was ashen. He reached out suddenly and grabbed my arm. His grip was tight; he was hurting me, his fingers digging into my arm. Turning my wrist, I bent his thumb back, forcing him to let go.

His voice was pitched too high as he said, ‘What. Did. You. Say?’ It came out like that. Like separate sentences. He was obviously terrified and I didn’t have the heart to make him suffer anymore.

‘Relax, Brady. Your secret is safe with me.’

He stared at me intensely, as if gauging how much he could rely on those words. Then he seemed to collapse in on himself, though from relief or fear I couldn’t tell.

Finally, he whispered, ‘What do you know, Remy? Who told you? Who else knows? Oh, God,’ he ended with a little whimper. It was embarrassing.

‘No one told me. I saw you. I was there.’

‘You were there? Oh, Jesus God, I’m a dead man. They’ll throw me out. Oh, God, it’s over.’ His face was pale, the freckles standing out, and tears filled his eyes.

I moved in closer to him, grabbing him by the shoulders. ‘Sam! Stop it! Get a hold of yourself! Who are they? What are you talking about? I haven’t told anyone. I just want to know what is going on. Are you OK? Are you in something over your head? What’s going on? Do you need help?’

‘OK, OK. I’ll tell you.’ He was trying to get control of himself, and I waited. He made several false starts, but kept lapsing back into silence. I glanced at my watch and realised that I didn’t have time for this right now, even though I was dying to hear what he had to say.

‘Listen, Sam. I have to get to class. Meet me at the fountain during free time. Get yourself together. And relax. I won’t give you away.’

He looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and terror. I hurried away, wondering if he would meet me or not.

*   *   *

I waited by the fountain, having arrived just in time. No Brady. Five minutes passed, then ten, and I was almost ready to give up and leave when I saw him running toward me.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said breathlessly. ‘I couldn’t get away right away. I had, um, duties to perform.’

I waited, without saying anything, for him to catch his breath. After a minute he said, ‘Let’s get out of here. Too public. Let’s go over there.’ He gestured toward a little path away from the main buildings of the campus. I followed, expectant about what he was going to tell me, but biting my tongue. I didn’t want to scare him off. I wanted him to feel safe enough to tell me everything.

We came to a wrought-iron bench where Sam sat, looking around as he did so to make sure we were alone. He fidgeted and wriggled until he finally tucked his legs up under himself, which made him look like a little kid, all freckles and knees.

‘OK,’ he said after a moment, ‘what do you want to know? You caught me. If I confide in you, will you promise not to tell anyone? Please, Remy, promise.’

‘Of course I promise, Sam. Who would I tell, anyway? Who would even believe me? I half don’t believe it myself, except that I saw it with my own eyes. And why the hell were you guys out practically in the open if you didn’t want to get caught? At first I thought it was some hazing thing, but then I saw your reaction. Sam, you loved what they were doing to you, didn’t you?’

He turned away, but not before I saw the colour again creep into his cheeks. His skin was the sort that showed every mark, every flush, with painful clarity. It was barely a whisper as he said, ‘It’s more than that. I live for it.’ I heard the drama starting to creep in; Sam was histrionic in the extreme.

‘Tell me,’ I whispered back, my curiosity raging.

‘You promise — ’ Again the hesitation.

‘Yes, yes,’ I shot back impatiently. ‘Come on, Sam. Tell me before I beat the shit out of you. I mean — ’ Here I broke off, stammering, suddenly confused as I realised that beating was what he craved, though surely not what I had in mind. To clarify I said, ‘And not the good way!’

We both laughed then. It sounded so silly. Somehow that changed the mood and Sam relaxed a little, uncurling his legs and sitting back against the cold iron.

‘Well. What you saw was part of my training. I am a novice. A novice slave.’ As he said the word something jolted inside of me. I realised I was holding my breath, waiting for more. ‘When I cross my wrists like that, like you saw, it’s part of my training too. It is a gesture of submission. I’m in this club. It’s a special kind of club. You know?’

He looked at me appealingly, as if willing me to say, ‘Ah, yes, I see now,’ and leave it at that. But instead I said, ‘What kind of club? A slave club? For real? What do you mean?’

Sam sighed and ruffled his short, red hair with a gesture that made me think it must have been much longer before his cadet-short military cut. ‘OK, let me try to explain.’ Again he paused, trying to compose himself. I resisted my strong urge to scream at him to tell me already. Finally he started again, and this time kept going.