Chapter 1: Brodie

I was openly weeping. Even though the other attendees at my Dad’s funeral were looking a little uncomfortable, I did not care. My uncle Brett was there, his arm around my shoulders, and held me close. Several men and a few women, all emanating wealth and power, gave me their condolences, and even more men, wearing some kind of weird black dress uniforms, stood at parade rest and paid the coffin their respect.

I knew my Dad and his wife, stepmom four as I called her in private, were on Dad’s yacht of the coast of Somalia, as evidently pirates had attacked the ship and killed the crew. My Uncle Brett, my last living relative, had taken over the reigns of Dad’s company, and since I was only 15 and he was Dad’s right hand for years, nobody questioned it. The men and women attending the funeral were mostly politicians and businessmen, and my Uncle made small talk to them, telling me he needed to show the company was still there and a reliable partner. I did not really care, but Dad’s company Greystone Diamond Security Services mostly depended on those men and women.

After my Uncle had driven me back home, a trusted valet took over. Mr. Jones, who called himself Butler, was basically responsible for each and every employee the house needed to be maintained, and so my Uncle appointed him to be my guardian for the next few weeks, until school began again.

I had no idea what was in store for me.

The huge screen showed a naked boy, laying in a huge bed, in a nicely decorated room. The boy did what comes naturally, he stroked his dick.

“Quite impressive! He is how old, 15?” The man behind the huge desk said, his eyes never leaving the flat screen TV on the wall of a office that was decorated in pure fake old English countryside mansion style. He wanted to be called Headmaster Smyth-Carrington, and my Uncle obliged, even though he knew all about the background of the pompous little man who was by now basically drooling while watching me on screen.

Smyth, whose real name was Smith, born in a little town named Carrington, was nothing but facade, but my Uncle was just interested in a solid facade, an image that would not be tampered.

“I understand you want to tame an unruly spirit, break him into society if you will, so you can control him more easily? At 18 he would be taking the reigns of his Dad’s business empire, but you think he would be too young for the responsibilities, am I right?” Smyth asked, while his hands rested in his lap, covered by the huge desk.

My Uncle nodded, slowly. He maybe was distracted since I just then came, moaning and grunting, rubbing the huge cum shot into my deep tanned six pack, pecs, and even licked my lips as some cum had hit my face.

“Impressive, as I said earlier. He will be a most welcome addition to our stable of boys!” The headmaster chuckled, but in a throaty voice.

“I must say your security cameras are really top of the line quality. After inspecting the footage I am more than impressed and would like your company to outfit the school’s rooms with everything necessary to upgrade our system.” As the Headmaster said this, a mouse click was all he needed to switch form the crystal clear picture that showed me in my room, in a house several states away, to the footage of school’s security cams. My Uncle watched a blurry picture showing a shower in the school’s gym, and even though the muscled boys would be very nice to look at, the fogged lens made such an unclear vision that it was hardly informative. He could maybe imagine that the boys were engaged in a heated sexual encounter, but the screen showed merely an innuendo.

“That’s what we are working with. It is hardly enough to attract new sponsors. Our online presentation is nowadays just raking in enough to feed the boys, but we need funds to pay the staff as well.”

Uncle Brett nodded again. He was not a man of many words. He gave the headmaster three pieces of paper.

Or, to be more specific, one piece of paper and two checks.

“This is the letter of consent. I sign the guardianship over to you for the time being, preferably till his 21 birthday. The checks are a small sign of my gratitude, a petty sponsoring for your great work, and the tuition fee for the next 3 years.”

The Headmaster knew how much money my Uncle had handed over, and he also knew I would work here at school, and attract sponsors as well. The “School for Performing Arts” was making their boys perform all the time, and the video my Uncle had showed the Headmaster just had ensured him I had the potential to succeed.

Mr. Smyth told my Uncle they would have everything under control, and I did not need to bring anything with me as the School would supply anything necessary.

As my Uncle stood and wanted to leave, the Headmaster openly asked:

“You did not ask many questions. Do you want to take part in a little demonstration of our School’s best students abilities, maybe?”

The School had been suggested to my Uncle by one of the old Friends that had attended the funeral. The rich and powerful Senator had enrolled his unruly son years ago, and now the son, being grown up, was the Senators right hand in Washington, and helped to settle many arguments, solve many problems, persuade even the hardest political enemy.

My uncle had heard rumors about the young man being the “Honey” in one of those highly confidential “Honey Pot operations”, and the Senator, said the rumors, was really enjoying to watch the footage of his son getting fucked or sucking dick before the Senator blackmailed the man who had sex with the young man.

And, that much my Uncle knew, the young man’s abilities had been trained here, at Biggelow Dickson School of Performing Arts, or Big Dick High.

As the door opened, a boy my age walked in, followed by a boy of maybe 18, and a boy of maybe 21. The Headmaster carefully had watched my Uncle, and reading his reactions he pointed at the 15 year old, saying: “ Steve, you stay, you two are dismissed”

The two older boys showed no sign of any reaction, not remorse or jealousy, they just left the room and closed the door. The boy remaining stood in front of the Headmasters desk, legs spread slightly, body in full attention mode, his school uniform of a white short arm button shirt and blue shorts crisply ironed and perfectly clean. The uniform, my Uncle saw it, was maybe a little too tight to be a real British school uniform, and the boys perfect body was proudly displayed. My Uncle walked around the boy and saw the rippling muscles, the flat stomach, the hard bulging pecs with some very inviting nipples, and the most pouty and succulent pair of red lips he had ever seen on a boy.

“Very nice!” Again my Uncle did not loose many words, but the Headmaster watched his hands roam over the boys physique. “ And what do you think I would do now with a boy like this?”

The Headmaster was a good reader of body language, and he knew my Uncle was playing a role right now. Mr Smyth’s dick was still hard from watching me jerking off on screen, earlier, and he was aching to bent the student over his desk and fuck the shit out of the boy’s tight ass.

But he did not show any sign of it.

He simply suggested: “ Try him out, whether you test him like a prospective soldier or a sex toy, just test him, if you like” The boy did not say a word. He was too well trained to speak up if not asked a question, and he knew he would need to obey to any wish or whim of the staff, the Headmaster, and even more, a Sponsor. Any boy who objected would be made to service even harder, and the school had no qualms to cater even the most outlandish, the most perverted wishes.