As we lay sleeping, Ivor returned to the barracks have satisfied Charles' need and no longer wanted. According to Ivor's account the following day, it had been a brutal and loveless encounter - Charles had simply used our friend and then discarded him like some useless toy.
When the _d_a_m_n_ed bugle awoke us the following morning, Rex, Mark and I exchanged glances - the unspoken question "What will happen?" passing between us. Petrified of being reported to Charles or, even worse, a Master, we nervously went about our chores.
After exercises and parade, we spent our time at breakfast comforting Ivor and relating to he and David what had transpired the previous evening. The consensus was that we would probably be expelled after a severe thrashing - the penalty most commonly imposed by the Headmaster. But as the day wore on it became obvious that the matter had not been as yet reported. This was confirmed when Corporal Watkins casually and privately informed Rex that we had a choice. We could allow the corporal to discipline us or he would report us to the senior master.
Rex informed mark and I of this situation and we quickly concurred that, no matter what, taking our punishment from Corporal Grant Watkins was preferable to the formal procedures which would follow any report to the School authorities. Rex duly advised our corporal of our collective agreement and was informed that our punishment would be imposed during the bivouac upon which our platoon was to embark the following day. The nature of our punishment was not disclosed but we were certain that there was nothing that Grant Watkins could do which would be anywhere near as bad as the consequences of having the matter reported. Confident in this knowledge we proceeded through the day and made preparations for the bivouac during which the matter would be settled.
Charles, his lust apparently satisfied for the time being, was notable for his absence during the day and we did not see him until the evening meal. He and Grant Watkins were engaged in earnest conversation as we approached the mess hall. Charles looked directly at Ivor and quickly averted his gaze, perhaps a sign of remorse.
With the departure for the bivouac fast approaching, our platoon had no recreation time after dinner and, while the rest of the Corp enjoyed a film, we set about packing our clothes and pup tents for the trek the following morning into the bush.
The following morning 36 boys, ladened with enough clothes and provisions for a three day expedition, marched out of the camp under the command of the platoon corporal who, for some inexplicable reason, had suddenly appeared wearing sergeant's stripes.
With the spring sun on our backs, we trudged westward from the camp, following a well worn track into the bush. After two hours we rested and our newly promoted sergeant used the break to advise us of our tent assignments. Not unexpectedly, Rex, Mark and I had the dubious distinction of sharing a tent with Sergeant Watkins.
For nearly two more hours we trudges into the bush until we came upon the designated campsite - a large clearing set beside the river. Rations were opened and tents erected. Our tent was well removed from the others, justified by the exalted status of our Sergeant.
After lunch, Grant Watkins announced that he was taking a scouting party off to reconnoiter the area and select a suitable site for rock climbing - the principal activity scheduled for the following day. The other boys, he announced, could spend the interregnum swimming and relaxing. There were no guesses as to who would form the scouting party and almost without instruction, Rex, Mark and I prepared to follow Watkins off into the bush.
Watkins collected a small knapsack and told us to follow. Silently we obeyed. We trudged after our sergeant for about 20 minutes when we came to a clearing further upstream from our campsite. Watkins stopped and exclaimed: "This should do fine." and sat down on a fallen tree stump. We three stood nervously waiting for whatever grant had in mind.
"You know:, he said, "if I had reported last night's activities you would all be beaten and expelled. Rather than do that, you have agreed to take your punishment from me and I propose to administer it progressively. You are my slaves now and if any of you resist even a little I will still exercise my option of reporting you. So be warned. You will obey every instruction immediately or suffer the consequences. Now strip!"
Rex, Mark and I exchanged glances and then proceeded to remove our clothes. As we did so, Grant pulled some lengths of rope from his knapsack and sat back whilst we completed disrobing. He then approached us and tied Mark and my wrists together behind our backs.
"Your first" he said to Rex and led our friend to the other side of the clearing where he attached ropes to Rex's wrists. Having done so he proceeded to tie each hand to a fallen tree limb, stretching Rex's arms as wide as they would reach and bending him over in the process. Next he proceeded to attach ropes to Rex's ankles and tied them off with just enough tension to allow Rex to maintain his balance. As he stepped away to reveal the tied boy Mark and my _c_o_c_k_s started to come to life for, despite the precariousness of the situation, the sight of our strapping young friend in such a helpless position was erotic to say the least.
Next Grant ordered he to stand in front of the bent over boy and to rest my stomach against him to provide support.
Grant then turned to his knapsack and took out his webbed belt - a fearsome instrument of punishment. Taking his time he sauntered over to Rex and thrust the belt between the out-stretched legs so that Rex could see the instrument.
"_f_u_c_k_, you can't use that" Rex yelled.
"This is only for starters!" Grant retorted and stepped back and delivered a searing blow to Rex's backside. Such was the force of the blow that Rex jolted forward into me and would have fallen had I not stood my ground.
Grant walked back and forth behind Rex admiring his work as I glanced over at Mark whose eyes were about to pop out at the shock of the blow. Seeing Grant move into position to take the next swing with the belt, I braced myself for consequences of the impact.
Grant seemed to rotate his hips as he swung the belt so that it was a blur as it flashed across Rex's arse.
"_f_u_c_k_." yelled Rex as he lurched forward into me and the agony in his voice told me that the end of the belt had found its intended target - Rex's puckered arsehole.
Now Grant was not, in my estimation, a sadist although his continued assault on Rex's back and buttocks with the dreadful belt caused me to question that judgement. Again and again the blows thudded down seemingly in a random patter from Rex's shoulders to his thighs. But every now and then a special cry would be elicited as grant caught Rex's arsehole with the end of the belt.
None of us knew how many stroked found their target but the beating seemed to go on for an eternity. Rex was literally screaming by the time the flogging ended.
Covered in sweat from his exertions and breathing heavily, Grant slumped onto the tree truck next to his victim and grabbed a handful of Rex's blond locks and jerked his head up. "_f_u_c_k_ing poof!" he exclaimed with the venom of a true homophobe.
Only inches from this action I stood, displaying a condition which betrayed my feelings at the display of sheer brutality which we had just witnessed. Not being one to overlook such a detail, Grant grabbed my offending member and led over the tree truck and positioned me behind Rex. For the first time I could see the full extent of the punishment which Rex had endured. His entire back, buttocks and thighs gave testament to the efficacy of Grant's exertions.
"You're next." declared grant and pushed me forward onto the back of my sobbing comrade who yelped as my chest landed on his obviously painful back. I felt the heat radiating from Rex's body and seemed to dwell upon that most erotic of feelings until, with a blinding crash, the belt struck my backside. The shock of the blow sent me reeling into Rex and we almost both fell over. With my hand tied behind my back, there was little I could do but hope that Rex could hold the both of us.
More disconcerting was the fact that my almost fully erect member was now nestled up against the backside of one of the few boys with whom I was truly in lust/love.
Suddenly my left hand was untied and pushed around Rex's waist. My right hand was thrust around the other side and the two retied, albeit loosely and hurriedly. Then it began - a relentless, painful assault on every accessible inch of my naked body. Every blow seemed to be a new adventure in pain and I was quickly reduced to tears. Although the continued bucking of my body against Rex's presented to Mark a macabre imitation of _s_e_x_ual intercourse, the reality of the pain was such that I was no longer exhibiting even the slightest inclination in that direction.
Through the mist of my tears and the blinding red pain I finally realised that the assault had finished since my wrists were suddenly free to move at will. I eased myself of Rex's sweating back and gingerly straightened up while Grant proceeded to free Rex.
Rex and I were allowed to go to the river to wash our faces while Grant pondered Mark's punishment. To anyone with an ounce of decency it was quite obvious that Mark's recently caned backside could not possibly absorb and further punishment - especially not with the belt. Grant's sense of fair play clearly kicked in for he three the belt in the general direction of his knapsack.
Watkins then went to the nearest willow tree and cut a small length of the highly flexible timber and then returned to the hapless Mark.
"Please Watkins, you can't", implored Mark as he clutched his already lacerated posterior.
"Get over here, fag", Grant instructed and proceeded to position Mark over the tree trunk with his belly resting almost on the far side of the limb and his hands on the ground.
"You two", snapped Grant, "take hold of his legs and pull them well apart".
As we complied, the effect was to expose to full view Mark's not quite virginal anus. Grant knelt between Rex and I and gave a few reasonably soft spanks with his hand to Mark's tender backside. Marks barely audible grunts indicated his discomfort but Rex and I exchanged glances because we know precisely what was to follow.
Rex and I tightened our grips and Grant picked up the length of willow, drew it back and snapped it right into the cleft between Mark's buttocks. Mark's scream must have been audible a mile away. His body jerked and writhed as he tried to get away. Mark's buttocks tried to close to protect the sensitive target area but to no avail.
The second and third lashes reduced our friend to a sobbing mess. By the ninth or tenth blows the only break in the boy's screaming came when he took a breath.
After about fifteen or sixteen blow, Grant stopped, got up and threw the stick away.
"Get dressed and back to camp" he instructed. "But don't think that's the end of it, we have a few more installments to go and tonight you get the next one" he added.
With various degrees of difficulty we moved to dress, washed our faces to try to remove the evidence of our tears and painfully trudged back to the campsite where our colleagues reveled in their carefree ignorance of the horrors we had just endured.
We had been away from the camp for nearly two hours so the time was fast approaching when fires should be prepared and food made ready.
Showing no sign that anything untoward might have transpired, grant methodically instructed various group to prepare the fireplace, gather wood, get the food together and prepare for the evening meal.
Rex, Mark and I were left alone at our somewhat remote tent site and our only visitor was Ivor.
He sauntered along but stopped promptly as he saw our faces.
"What the hell happened to you guys?" he inquired.
"Nothing." declared Mark who was trying to find a comfortable position on his stomach - an impossibility given the area which was in greatest pain.
"_f_u_c_k_ing Watkins flogged us and the bastard's got us right where he wants us" declared Rex, and proceeded to give Ivor the full story of our lustful evening and the consequences which we had endured.
Ivor was somewhat bemused by the hypocrisy implicit in our collective circumstances and offered what little comfort and solace that he could. His own bleak mood lifted somewhat from the knowledge that there were others of his circle of friend who were victims of the ritualised violence. Ivor then proceeded to verbally chastise us for our stupidity in getting caught and made any number of crude (but erotic) suggestions as to how he would handle the situation if he had the power. Levity gradually returned to our demeanour and we went as a group across to the main campsite to eat.
After our meal those of us who were not assigned to KP went down to the river to swim and swap yarns. No mention was made of our encounter with Watkins: any complaints would have meant revealing the basic cause of our grief and that was simply not on.
Eventually our comrades started drifting away to prepare for bed. Ivor said "goodnight" and went off to his tent which left we three alone with just one or two groups scattered along the riverbank quietly chatting and watching the play of moonlight on the ceaseless motion of the water. When further deferment became obvious to we three I looked at my two friends and said: "Well, we may as well go and see what Grant the Great has in store for us."
Rex helped Mark to his feet and gave us both a quick hug and off we went.
When we arrived at our tent there was no sign of Watkins, so we hurriedly changed into our pyjamas and got into our sleeping bags. We turned down the kerosene lantern which provided our illumination and waited silently lying on our stomachs.
Grant finally turned up apparently satisfied that all the other boys were ensconced in their sleeping bags for the night.
None of us said anything hoping that Grant would simply want to sleep. But this was not the case.
"Well, well," he declared, "the three fags all in a row. Time for your next session boys but this one you might enjoy. Well, Mark, you may not but we'll see. First things first, get out of your sleeping bags and lie down again just as you are."
Wondering what he had in mind, we slowly complied.
Grant then knelt over each of us in turn and tied our hands together.
"We'd better inspect the damage" he said and promptly pulled our pants down exposing our damaged arses for his inspection.
"Gee, I bet that's sore" he said as he not too tenderly ran his hands over my backside eliciting a slight yelp from me.
Satisfied, he moved across to Rex who was in the centre and patted his arse and ran his hands over the welt on Rex's back. I was looking at the back of Rex's head and saw it stiffen as the light mauling proceeded.
"Get up" he instructed and Rex was pulled to his knees. "You, I recall, were the one who was screwing Mark when I found you. Well now you can do so again." And with that observation started to manipulate the helpless Rex into a state of erection.
After a few minutes, Rex was completely hard. "Over here" Grant instructed and Rex awkwardly shuffled over until he was between Mark's legs which grant pulled apart.
Grant pushed Rex down onto the prone form before him and simply said: "_f_u_c_k_ him".
"I need some Vaseline" said Rex, apparently comfortable with the idea of having _s_e_x_ in these circumstances.
"No such luck" replied Grant, "better use spit".
Unable to use his hands, Rex did his best to drool saliva onto the target but his lack of success and the tenderness of Mark's arse hole from the earlier whipping cause Mark to scream out "No" as Rex somewhat clumsily moved to enter him.
Quickly Grant stuffed something into Mark's mouth to muffle his cries as Rex proceeded to secure entry to the boy's arse.
"Now _f_u_c_k_ him" instructed Grant and, despite Mark's obvious discomfort, Rex complied.
I lay there watching the performance and also observing Grant removing his own clothes and lubricating his erection with his own spittle.
After a few minutes, Grant said: "Doesn't look too bad" and crawled over to me. He pushed my legs roughly apart and without any preliminaries shoved his _c_o_c_k_ straight into my arse. The pain of the entry cause me to yelp which quickly brought a blow to the side of my head.
"No need for that sort of noise": said Grant as he started to have _s_e_x_ with as much brutality as he could manage. It was not a pleasant experience in any sense for me but relief was fairly quick as Grant's obvious pent up frustration exploded deep in my bowels. He withdrew as brutally as he had entered and proceeded to clean himself up. Then he turned his attention to Rex and started slapping his humping backside saying: "I'm not going to stop until you cum".
Rex needed little incentive and fairly quickly released his seed into the ravished Mark. Gently he withdrew leaving Mark sobbing quietly.
"Better get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow." said Grant and left it to Rex to untie Mark and my hands and I untied his. We three restored out pyjama pants and crawled into our sleeping bags as Grant turned out the lamp.
Sleep came fairly quickly for me, despite the pain in my rear. All I could think of as I drifted into the darkness was that we were being punished for doing precisely what Grant had just done to me and how _f_u_c_k_ed up my little world seemed to be.