Glastonbury was starting to enjoy himself with his fags. By and large they behaved themselves, but not enough to deny Glassers the pleasure of whacking their upturned bottoms, occasionally bared for the punishment. However it was usually done in good spirit, and the Head of House had no reason to get too angry. He regularly got more horny than he could bear, and had to relieve himself in the privacy of the toilet. Only when he occasionally got Cato the cane to beat a junior did he really appease his hormones, and when he petted Macfarlane he was happy enough. But he wanted more.

That evening, as the fags did their prep silently in their master's study, Glassers leant over Macfarlane, as he often did when helping the boy out with sums or Latin grammar. This time, however, his thoughts were otherwhere.

"After lights out tonight, come to my room." He whispered. Mac nodded in reply. Gallagher, overhearing, looked jealously at his fagmate who was clearly the favourite.

The junior dorm's lights went out at nine thirty. Ten minutes later he slipped out, put on his slippers and dressing gown and padded his way towards the House Captain's room. He knocked and entered. Glastonbury was sitting at his desk, wearing only his dressing gown. He looked up.

"Ah, Macfarlane. I thought I'd ask you to warm my bed for me. Better than warming the bogs, eh! Well, in you pop."

Mac moved towards the bed. "Do you want me to take my jim jams off?"

Jim jams, Glassers thought. What a sweet kid. Playing it by the book as well. "Why not. Better heat transfer, I think."

Glastonbury pretended to look at his books, but out of the corner of his eye watched his fag slowly undress, his peachy buttocks disappearing under the bedclothes. I mean, how can a young man wrestle with gerundives and absolute ablatives with a naked boy in his bed?

Soon he put down his books, and went over to the bed. He slipped off his gown, and got in, feeling the luscious, warm young body next to his. He picked up the baby oil by the bed. Macfarlane saw the oil, his eyes widening. I hope you know how to massage, young man" he said, winking. Mac smiled, and took the oil.

Following Glastonbury's instructions, Macfarlane straddled his master, perching on his buttocks. The feeling of buttock on buttock was simply heavenly, and as Mac got to work, Glassers felt the stiffening prick gliding up and down the small of his back. The massage was good, and the oil was relaxing. Macfarlane ran his hands gently over his master's back, occasionally going a little lower.

After a while Glastonbury tired of massage, and summoned his mount down from his back. The oil was dispatched to the floor, and Glastonbury slipped Macfarlane under his body. He leant over him, and for th first time, he kissed him. He had never kissed a fag before, even after multiple _s_e_x_ual encounters, but Maccers was different. He kissed him long and hard, burying his tongue deep down the youngster's throat. The heaving started, and the older boy's fingers went to work at the young boy's hole. He then sat back, and lifted Macfarlane's legs over his shoulders, and looking deep into the boy's eyes, _f_u_c_k_ed him. He rammed his prick hard up Macfarlane's anus, lifting the boy's whole body to penetrate even deeper. The boy groaned and grunted, both in satisfaction and in pain. Naturally, as soon as he had finished, Glastonbury was treated to another trademark blow job, as Macfarlane darted under the covers to get his mouth on his master's warm, lubed _d_i_c_k_. After a while both tired of the excitement, and went to sleep, the younger boy in the arms of his master.

The morning came with sunlight and Gallagher bearing a bowl of cream to shave his master's face. He looked startled to see master and fag together in bed, asleep. He prodded the House Captain nervously.

"Glastonbury, Glastonbury..... Macfarlane, wake up!" he hissed. The fag woke, hurriedly slipped out of bed, grabbed his clothes and ran to the dormitory. If he was late dressing he would get caned by the duty master. Glastonbury woke up, saw the empty space beside him and looked quizzically at his fag.

"No Glastonbury, it wasn't a dream" said the fag a little laconically, "Mac's gone to the dorm."

"Good. Well, get to it". From the look in his eyes he saw that Gallagher was ready.

to be continued.....