Getting My Eyes Opened - Part One

“You boy,” the bull like voice caused me to turn around,
“Yes you, are you deaf lad?” the owner of the voice spoke and I quaked with all fear an eleven year old has when facing the Headmaster, especially when he is pointing a thick finger. “Come here,” he ordered imperiously, the finger curling me toward him. Trembling with ‘what have I done wrong’ terrors exploding through my brain I stood before him.
“Oh,” he spoke gently, “a First Year,” and he smiled a little, “I’m sorry I must have frightened you. It must all be still very new to you here?”
“Yes Sir,” I replied in a very small voice, looking down at my feet. If only he knew.

Everyone say’s its big adventure when you go up from Junior school to, in my case, Secondary School, they don’t always tell you what a complete shock to the system it actually is, especially of you are a sensitive boy like I was. I was happy at Junior school I had all my friends around me, Janet Edwards, Janet Brown, Alison, Mary, Anne and my best friend Helen. We played all the usual games in the playground, skipping, tag, even that horror of horrors ‘Kiss chase’, although I was never much ‘It’ or kissed in that game. I actually thought I was clever, it never crossed my mind that my friends weren’t likely to kiss someone they considered a friend, it was much more fun for them to be caught by one of the rough boys who also inhabited the playground. I however steered well clear of them and in return they scared me whenever they got the chance. So I was not prepared for the big change that was coming.
Realisation began to sink in slowly on the day we all trooped off to visit the ‘new school’. I was annoyed to find that the line was split into boys and girls and when we got to this ‘new school’ I became aware that the girls and my friends went in one entrance and I and the rest of the boys went into another. I was about to enter a totally masculine environment, an alien way of life for me. I remember feeling very unhappy as my friends disappeared from sight. I followed the line of eagerly chattering boys as they went into the gate, to be greeted and shown around what was going to be my life of horror for the next five years.

Now some three weeks into my new life I was getting more acclimatised. I had had a desperate summer when my friends had one by one changed and in our way had said some sort of goodbye, to be honest they were more aware of what was happening but they were going to be together and I think they realised I was going to be a fish out of water so I had been slowly pushed into the company of brothers and others who would be joining me at the new school so I would not be so alone. I still had no new friends but as all the other older boys ganged up on the new ones, we supported each other against a common enemy. It would be in the next year that I would be singled out as ‘different’ which in its way was better than special but not much. Anyway to return to the start of this episode that remains imprinted on my memory of those times.

“Where should you be lad?” the Head enquired.
“I was on my way to Music, Sir,” I replied nervously, “I came in the wrong doorway from the playground after break so I had to go the long way round, I’m sorry Sir it won’t happen again,’ I was almost stammering.
“Music eh,” he smiled again, “well that’s alright. I need someone to run a little errand and you won’t miss much there,” he put his hand on my shoulder and terrifyingly bent down to my level.
Actually I liked Music but was getting more and more aware it was not the right sort of thing for a proper boy to be interested in. Trembling I listened to his request.
It turned out to be very simple in the end I was to go to the changing rooms and find Mr Benson the Sports Master and ask him to come directly to the Head’s office as he had something important to tell him. The Head knew that the class he was about to take was responsible so he could leave them for a short time. Behind the Head through the door to his office I could see someone sitting down and to me they looked Very Important.
I set off on my task,
“Boy,” I jumped as the bull voice bawled at me, “Don’t Run,”
I slowed to a fast walk, “Yes Sir, yes Sir,” I spoke apologetically.

The changing rooms were below the Music Room which adjoined the ‘Gym’ so I would not be too late for my lesson and I was well aware of the importance that would be given to my reason for being late, it was unlikely that a First Year would lie about doing a task for the Head, it was too easy to check and in most cases in the First Year you learnt how to lie to adults, it was instilled in you as you grew through the years.
I pushed open the swinging doors into the changing rooms, the usual smell of boy and football boots and sour shower hit me as I entered. Then as now it aroused my senses the only difference is that now I actually know why it aroused me. The noise of boys arose around me and I turned the corner into the changing room and stopped my mouth agape. This was a Fifth Year Period and a wide panorama of naked men rather than boys opened up before my eyes.
Everywhere I looked was hair. I had led a sheltered life and had never, ever seen my father naked. I was totally unaware of the physical changes that would take place, although I had grown bits of downy fluffy hair in places that most of my fellow classmates had not, I assumed I was different and did my best to hide my supposed ‘difference’ from their sight and possible verbal abuse.
Now however I feasted on hair and in all the places I was growing it, not only that but I was face to face with knobs all much bigger than mine and I was fascinated by the sight of these dangling tubes and the balls underneath. Most boys who would have been between fifteen and sixteen years of age were in the process of putting on their shorts and showed none of the speed I and my classmates had achieved in getting ready for P.E.
It had been very quickly instilled into us on our first lesson when we had changed into our ‘games gear’ shorts, vest and plimsolls and changed back again, time and time again until we had achieved a speed Mr Benson found acceptable. After I had got over the horrific fact that we were not allowed to wear out knickers under our shorts, this was total taboo it was with even more horror that I found we had to shower together afterwards, a huge shock to my sensitive system. It also meant in this case you walked along a line of shower heads, spitting from lukewarm to cold water in sudden unexpected bursts, and you walked from one end of the shower room to the other and then picked up the towel you had left at the entrance. It was important to get in the first half of that line because if you did not then someone who had forgotten their towel would pick up yours from the pile. Under Mr Benson’s eagle eye you never managed to avoid the shower. If you had forgotten your towel it was an automatic detention so it was a lesson soon learned from running around the changing rooms naked and dripping and trying to find which sod had nicked your towel this time. It also helped to hide my difference if I was at the head of the queue and I became one of the fastest ‘games gear’ changers in my class. As ever the towel would be soaked so you went to the next lesson uncomfortably damp and furthermore to avoid that detention you had to show Mr Benson it was your towel that had been ‘borrowed’. Luckily my mother had purchased masses of nametags so when it happened and it did fairly often that year, I always escaped detention. Boys who did borrow were remarkably adept in leaving the towel well away from their clothes in case they were spotted and got punished after all.

I found my self staring at this range of knobs and was oblivious to the chatter of the boys until one youth stood in front of me. My attention was dragged away from the long tube of flesh that he possessed the mass of attractive curly hair that surrounded it and the halo of hair that highlighted the balls that swung almost poetically.

“Oy you tosspot, what do you think your doing,” the owner of the long tube grabbed my attention and I found myself looking at a tall dark haired lad who seemed familiar, then I recognised him as one of the prefects, the bane of First Year boys, who had the power of what seemed like life and death over you, actually all they could do was give you lines to do and I did plenty and send you to a Master for punishment if the crime was too severe for simple lines.
“Message,” I blurted out and regaining some of my composure stuttered, “I I I have a message for Mr Benson from the Headmaster,” and then added stupidly, “Sir.” I had forgotten how prefects liked it when we First Year’s called them ‘Sir’, but they would ridicule you as much as they had been ridiculed when they had done the same thing when they has been First Years too.

“Well,” said the prefect who I now remembered was called Harris. We were all know by our surname at this school and even amongst close friend’s surnames were the most used forms of address. “What are you waiting for?” he glared,
“Er where is he?” I asked wildly looking around, and this time totally unaware of the goodies on display.
“Idiot,” sneered Harris, “He’s in his room,” and dismissing me with a wave of his knob turned to they boy beside him and said, “I wonder what the old man (the nickname the head was known by) wants with him now?” I left them discussing the possibilities.
I made my way through the throng of semi-naked bodies and shorts with bulges. It seemed a badge of honour amongst this lot that the last thing to go on was their shorts and despite my hurry, I was able to drink in the sights of these new fabled objects of strange desire, as I made my way to the Sports master’s room within the changing rooms.

Carefully I knocked on the door. It swung fully open and by this I mean that the door was usually in two halves like a stable door, I think it was done so that Mr Benson could keep and eye on us without exposing himself as he changed. In this case as the boys were older he was probably not expecting someone of my tender years and I was almost face to face with a thick sausage of wrinkled flesh that I swear winked at me. It was surrounded by a frame of short bushy curly hair that accentuated the glory of the growth in the middle. His deep red balls glowed with colour and were devoid of hair. I would learn later that he kept the hairs trimmed and shaved his balls as he thought it more hygienic because he was constantly in tracksuits throughout his working day. It was my first glimpse of a real live naked man and I was totally absorbed in the glorious sight that filled my eyes and my senses. I fell in love with him that very same moment and from then on could never look at him without seeing that ponderous tube of flesh, the wrinkled winking end and the brown bush that framed it.
Seeing his error he quickly closed the lower half of the door and glared at me. I did not then understand the feeling of disappointment as his wondrous knob was hidden from my view.

“What the hell do you want,” he spat at me, more so because I had caught him out.
“Sorry Sir, I said dragging my embarrassed face upward to his similarly reddening features. “I have a message from the Old,” I stopped myself just in time, “the Headmaster Sir, he wants to see you right away Sir. He said he knew you could come now and,” I straightened myself up, “he has someone with him and he says its Very Important, Sir,” I bleated. Still it was an important bleat.
“Bugger,” ‘Bendy’ (as he was know as) Benson slammed the top half of the door shut, which was not a good idea as the door now swung slightly open and I was treated to the sight of ‘Bendy’ putting on his track suit. I noticed because I had a good look that like the boys, his bottoms went on last and I was able to take a long lingering look at his knob as he bounced around hurriedly getting dressed. He pulled the door open and called, “Harris,” and then seeing me added, “what are you doing here, get along to your lesson lad,” and in a louder voice shouted now, “Harris where the bloody hell are you?”
“Here sir,” spoke Harris bounding into view, “I’m here now sir.” He had one leg in his shorts and was trying to get the second in as he spoke, almost toppling over when the first attempt failed.

“Harris,” Bendy spoke authoritatively, “the Head needs to see me urgently. Can you get the class up to the gym and get them paired up for circuit training and Harris,” he added with a growl, “that means you too, I expect to see sweat running down your face when I get back. Do you hear me boy?” and he strode away.
“Yes sir,” saluted Harris, which turned to a two-finger salute as Mr Benson’s back, came into view.
Harris now turned to me. I had been watching him trying to get his shorts on and was still engrossed in his long knob and was comparing it to Mr Benson’s. Due to his salute he was holding his shorts with one hand and this had brought the top of his shorts under his knob and it was sort of pointing the head towards me. I was fascinated that his did not end in a wrinkled tip and I thought I saw a flash of dark pink in the tip.
“Well now what have we here,” he sneered again.

My head shot up to look at him face to face. Red though I was I went redder and to add to that I was now terrified. I did not know what I had done was wrong but I sensed I was in deep trouble, I shivered with terror.

“Like looking at knobs do we,” he sneered softly with a look of disdain in his eyes.
I looked wildly around. With Mr Benson gone the class was now loud and rowdy and misbehaving. Around me boys were indulging in the changing room game of trying to pull down each other’s shorts and I was acutely aware of the knobs that were springing into view as friends and enemies delighted in exposing each other. In view of the fact that they had all recently been changing, oblivious of their near nudity, this seemed daft but it was a fun game.
I turned back to Harris terrified of what he would do. In my mind he was almost a Master, hadn’t Bendy put him in charge.
“Here lads,” he called loudly, “we’ve got a nosey parker in the room.” The others slowly ceased their noise and turned towards him.
I felt my bladder weaken at the sight of all those big bulging groins looking at me.
“Grab him,” Harris shouted, natural leader that he was.

I did not stand a chance and gave only token resistance as the nearest boys grabbed me and lifted me off my feet.
“We all know what to do with a nosey parker, don’t we?” he called out as he stepped towards me. The others crowded around and I was now hoisted higher by two lads who now had me in their vicelike grasp. Harris gave me a big beaming smile which went through me like a hot knife and I trembled in anticipation of I don’t know what.

He grasped me by the belt and began to undo it. I looked down uncomprehending. As my belt was loosened other hands grabbed my shirt and pulled it upwards, dragging my blazer with it, leaving my tie to hang down over my exposed chest and belly. I began to fight my captors who simply laughed and held me even more tightly.