Robert's Revelations Chapter 6
Robert's Revelations
This story is set in rural England in 1982. It is, obviously, written in British English with British words and spellings. The cultural references are also from that time and place so I hope that references to cars, TV shows or music won't spoil the story for those who don't know them. Follow the links provided for more information or just ignore them. (And yes, I know you can use a search engine just as well as I can. The links are for convenience, not to insult anyone.)
As always, this is fiction and any resemblance to real people is coincidental. In some chapters controversial opinions will be expressed. Please remember they are the characters' opinions, not the author's. Some are opinions I profoundly disagree with but I've tried to state them fairly, not parody them.
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Chapter Six – Remorse
I slept fitfully and woke early. I dressed, used the bathroom, packed up my stuff and went downstairs. There was no sign of David or Tony yet and I was glad. I remembered last night with a sense of shame. What the hell was I thinking? Ripping another boy's clothes off and putting my hands on him? Really? It seemed like some kind of weird dream, not reality. But I knew it was real and I didn't want to face him, although he had seemed to enjoy it.
I was tempted to just leave a note and sneak out but that would be rude, and somewhat cowardly. Plus I'd rather face them and clear the air now, in private, than do so at school on Monday. Finding out about them was the first of many shocks yesterday, I never would have suspected that of either of them.
I was too mixed up to feel like eating but I made myself some coffee and tried to look at the magazines David gave me last night but I couldn't face it. Just looking at them made me feel queasy. So I hid them in my Geography folder in my bag and hoped Mum and Dad wouldn't find them. But they'd never looked at my school stuff before so why would they start now?
I sat brooding for a while and then heard the flap of the letterbox clanking. It was too early for the post so I went to investigate and found the Daily Mail on the mat. From what I'd seen and heard of the Porters I'd have expected the Telegraph but the Mail was what we took at home so it was familiar and I went back to the kitchen with it.
I made a fresh coffee and settled down to read the paper. After a while David appeared in a dressing gown and switched the kettle on. “Morning” he said as he got two mugs and started making coffee. “Did you sleep alright? Been up long?”
“Not too long, no. I was just reading your paper, I hope you don't mind.”
“No, not at all.”
Just then Tony breezed in, fully dressed. “Morning Rob, morning gorgeous, are you naked under there, you tease?”
“You're insatiable! Didn't you get enough last night?” They were so blatant!
“That was last night, now the batteries are recharged. But I can wait. We'll make breakfast and then... What are we doing today?”
That was my cue. “Well, I don't know about you two but I've got a lot of homework, plus my jobs at home, so I really need to get going.” I needed to get going but not for that reason. I felt weird just being here. Kind of sad, for no reason. And scared, for no reason, they weren't likely to jump me at eight in the morning. And embarrassed and ashamed for very good reasons. I needed to get away and at the same time I wanted to stay but I was scared to stay and that made me sad. God, Robbie, you're such a mess, get a grip.
“How are you getting home?” asked David. “And will you stay for breakfast at least?”
“No thanks” I replied. “I'm really not hungry and I want to get started. I can walk home, it's only a couple of miles if I cut through the woods and it's a nice walk. But I want to get all my outside jobs done early or I'll be hot later.”
“Well, you were certainly hot last night” laughed Tony. “If that's what red meat and alcohol do for you we'll give you steak tartare and absinthe next time.”
“Yuck, no thank you! Raw meat and raw egg? That's more likely to make me sick than randy!” And why would I get randy with him anyway? The steak tartare wasn't the only 'meat' that revolted me now. What happened last night was just wrong__, everyone knows that. It must never happen again. That's why I need to get out of here now__. Perhaps a nice healthy walk will help clear my head. I tried not to notice the implications of the thoughts I'd just had.
“Are you all right? Really?” asked David, concerned, on the doorstep.
“Honestly? I think I will be. But right now I'm a bit.... mixed up I suppose. I need some time alone to think. A good walk will do me good. Oh, I nearly forgot, I've got your magazines here, hold on.” I unzipped my bag.
“Keep them, you may want to look at them and I've plenty more. You can return them later, but don't bring them to school will you? That's a risk we don't need to take. Well, see you at school on Monday then.”
I walked away with a heavy heart. I know I'm doing the right thing so why do I feel like I really, really don't want to? I blinked back tears and concentrated on the road ahead and the tasks awaiting me at home.
I turned off onto the forestry track. That saves at least a mile compared to using the roads, and it's nice walking through woodland. It's quite steep at first and I gained altitude quickly. The ache in my legs was, if anything, a welcome distraction. And then I made the mistake of looking back.
David's village was spread out below me. I could see his house, right next to the church. Good and evil, side by side. So why am I drawn to the evil? What David and Tony are doing is wrong and perverted, everyone knows that, for hundreds and thousands of years. But then I remembered how it felt, being in control, David begging me as I tease him. And a wave of longing swept over me. And this time I couldn't stop the tears.
At least I was alone in the woods, no-one around to witness my embarrassment. I sat on a convenient tree stump and sobbed until I'd cried the grief away. Goodbye Mister Demon. I never knew you existed until last night. ('That's a lie' countered my inner cynic. 'What about Tuesday?' but that wasn't the same.) And then I loved you. And now I have to bury you, before you wreck my life.
I got it out of my system. And then I got up, wiped my eyes and started walking again. There are many temptations that must be resisted. You see a car left with the keys in while the owner pops into a shop, you see a fat purse unguarded in a shopping basket, but you don't take them because it's wrong. This is the same. A part of me tried to argue that it wasn't, but I suppressed it ruthlessly, terrified of the consequences if I let the demon win.
And I walked on, taking care to only think about the tasks ahead of me. I really needed to learn about glueing the valves down on pressure cookers. They always explode sooner or later.
I got home and hoped to sneak to the bathroom to wash my face. But Mum came out of the kitchen into the hallway when she heard my key in the front door. “You're back then. Did you have a nice time? Hold on, you look like you've been crying. Is something wrong? This new 'friend' hasn't been picking on you has he?”
No way was I going to tell her the truth. She'd be devastated, and she couldn't help anyway. “No, Mum, it's just hay fever. I walked home from David's and Mr Branning stopped me to talk as he was cutting his lawn. You know what cut grass does to me.” Thanks, Mr B, for your anti-social habit of mowing the lawn early Saturday. You've given me an excuse that's perfect because it's true.
Dad would mow our lawns later. Before he did, it was my task to weed all the flower borders. I could cope with that if I did it early, and definitely before the grass was cut. Then I washed the car. And that's my contribution done for now. I grabbed a quick drink and went upstairs to my room to start my homework.
First, I needed to unpack my bag and sort my stuff out. I took my school uniform, books and folders out of my bag. I decided I'd better not leave those magazines in my Geography folder, I'd probably forget them and take them to school by mistake!
I pulled them out, intending to hide them in my stack of computer mags, no-one but me ever looked at those. Tony might sneer at ZX Spectrums, I owned one. But a photograph on the cover of the top magazine caught my eye. Some kind of protest. A good-looking young man in shorts and polo shirt stared straight into the camera, unsmiling, a neutral expression on his face. And I stared back at him, mesmerised, unable to look away. And the demon laughed.
Don't get me wrong, the demon was a metaphor (yes, another one) not an 'unclean spirit' but it still seemed to haunt me. “FUCK!” I said out loud, throwing the magazines on the bed. Then I hastily sat on them as the door burst open.
“Robert Alan Symes” Mum began. The full name always portends trouble. “I will NOT have you using that filthy language in this house! Just be glad your father didn't hear it. In fact, don't use it at all, it's common. But anyway not in our home, you need to respect our rules as long as you're under our roof.”
“Yes, I know. Sorry Mum. I just stubbed my toe on the desk leg and I didn't think. You know I wouldn't upset you deliberately. Anyway, I thought you'd gone out.”
“It doesn't matter if we're out or not. It's still our house. So be more careful. We're going now, that's what I came up to tell you. Your father's just starting the car. We'll be back about four or five. Try not to raise the devil or burn the house down while we're gone.” That was her jokey way of telling me I'm forgiven. Ha, raise the devil indeed. If you only knew, but I'm glad you don't.
“Do you need me to do anything while you're out? Start dinner or anything?”
“I think we'll be back in time, thanks. But if you're going to be here I might phone if we're delayed or anything.”
“I'll be here. I've got loads of work to catch up on. Have a nice time. See you later.”
I heard the front door close, went into the front bedroom and watched the car drive away. Now I had the house to myself for the next few hours. And I thought I knew what the problem was. The previous night's transgressions, wrong as they were, had been exciting and enjoyable. And now I was feeling randy and associating it with last night. I needed to cure the randiness and associate the cure with something more normal. Well, I certainly knew how to do that.
I went back into my own room. I put the magazines on the desk for now. Then I stripped off all my clothes and lay down on my bed. Then I remembered something, got up and went into the bathroom to get the toilet roll. It felt weird and scary walking around the house naked, even with no-one there. I thought I might try it more often, a much safer thrill. But for now I went back to my room.
I lay back on my bed. No hurry, I could take my time. I thought about the girls at school. Some of them were really pretty. And some liked to wear their skirts a bit shorter than they were really supposed to, mid thigh length if they could get away with it. They would keep it knee length in class, then hitch it up several inches at break and lunch. They knew seeing their thighs made the boys think of what's between them, and they liked to tease the boys.
Now this was starting to work. I was naked and I was 'seeing' girls, looking at their brazenly exposed thighs. And they were looking at me. I started to play with myself slowly and gently. This was my favourite fantasy, I'm naked and girls in short skirts are looking at me. I don't imagine sex with girls. How could I? I'd had no experience and didn't really know what it feels like. So I see myself naked in front of them. Perhaps they invaded the shower room after games, but all the other boys got away. Perhaps they dragged me into an empty classroom and stripped me. They keep teasing me, drawing my attention to their tits and thighs, laughing with delight when I get hard, telling me I have to 'take care of it' while they watch.
Now I was really starting to enjoy myself. The 'empty classroom' scenario really works. They stroke their thighs and raise their skirts as I 'perform' for them under duress. Or perhaps Billy and his mates stripped you behind the science block and made you do it? What's the problem? There's still girls watching. And it's much more plausible isn't it? Whoever heard of girls stripping boys naked? Not in our school they don't. But Billy would, you know that, just ask Stephen! The demon was back, but he was right. I accepted the revised fantasy. It was more exciting because it was more plausible.
I stopped. I was getting too close and I didn't want to come just yet. When the orgasm came I wanted a really good and satisfying one and that takes time.
I lay there thinking idle thoughts and slowly and gently stroking myself. When the phone rang. I knew I'd have to answer in case it was Mum, or someone who'd tell her there was no answer. Thrill or no thrill I wasn't brave enough to stand in the hallway naked and erect, there's a clear glass window. So I put on a dressing gown, ran downstairs and answered “62708.”
“What?” said a puzzled voice.
“I said, 62708.”
“I dialled 62780.”
“Well, no, you obviously didn't, did you? Or you wouldn't have got this number.”
“I'm sure I did. Bloody phones! Sorry to bother you.” The line went dead.
Great, my fun has been interrupted by a cretin who not only can't dial a number properly but blames the phone system for his mistake. Probably using one of those new push-button trimphones Busby keeps advertising on telly, it would be hard to dial that wrong on a normal phone.
I was home alone and in the mood for adventure. I looked out of the hall window above the telephone table. It looks sideways, past our garage and next door's to an identical side window in their house. I could see nobody anywhere so I pulled off my dressing gown, bundled it up, and threw it up the stairs as hard as I could. And dared myself to get a drink from the kitchen and drink it in the living room.
I walked into the kitchen nervously. The garden is private. The only way to get to it from the street is through the garage, which is locked. But if either neighbour looked over the fence and through the kitchen window I'd be screwed. Likewise if my parents had come back early and walked in at that moment. I forced myself to wait while the kettle boiled and took my coffee into the living room.
There was a net curtain on the front window but anyone who came really close could see through it. I sat in the chair with its back to that window, I'm not that brave, and drank my coffee, quickly. Then I retraced my steps, putting the empty mug in the sink and sprinting back upstairs, exhilarated but shaky. What a crazy thing to do!
I lay back on the bed and returned to my fantasy. Where was I? Oh, yes, I'd decided that putting Billy in charge made it more plausible. I imagined all the girls watching as Billy ordered me to play with it, get hard, now keep going. This was much better. I thought of Neil, imagined how it would feel to suddenly lose one's shorts and be naked in front of everyone. That didn't happen but it could have. I thought of Stephen, debagged by Billy and given an erection by Karen. That did happen. I wondered if I could get Stephen to talk about it. Probably not.
I returned to my main fantasy. The girls watched avidly as I put on a show for them. They pulled their skirts up almost to the tops of their thighs, trying to 'help' by getting me more excited. Billy's gang watched with malevolent grins but I was doing it for the girls, not them. And Billy himself stared intently, a smug self-satisfied look on his face. And it was his face I was 'seeing' as I went past the point of no return.
Shit, I've done it again, I thought as I used toilet paper to clean up. I told myself there'd been girls in the fantasy both times. And that was true but not the whole truth so as a strictly heterosexual fantasy it wasn't an unqualified success! As I flushed the used paper away I wondered what to try next.
Chapter 7 coming soon.