The Real Journey - Part Two

I was sent to boarding school for two main reasons. Firstly because my mother was a single mom with four boys, and finances were really tight. Secondly, future step dad had moved onto the scene, and I really didn’t like him so I really just wanted to get out of the house.

During 7^th grade, I had changed. Probably hormonal mainly. I matured physically quicker than my friends. I was in love with half of my male friends, and girls were irritating me. Sethy was a good looking boy, and top of the class, head prefect stuff. The girls all wanted a piece, and I was giving none. My first sexual experience was with a girl, the post is here. I really can’t remember how old I was when it first started to happen. I kept quiet about it because she was officially dating older brother who was already away at boarding school, so I felt crap about it. I was obsessed with wanking, but also thought it was an affliction and not aware at the time that everyone else was doing it.

When I arrived at the new school, I knew no-one except older brother – who I never really saw because he was in the senior hostel. Here I was in amongst a bunch of kids who had gone through junior school together, and I just felt out. I made a conscious decision not to wank. I thought I was doing something grossly wrong, and my cock had taken on a slight bias to the left, which I thought was horrible punishment for masturbation methods. Showers were of the group type, and I found myself to be rather larger than most of the boys, and was subsequently nicknamed accordingly. After two weeks, I couldn’t hold it any longer. I got up in the middle of the night to go pee, and ended up shooting my first real load all over the toilet in about ten seconds. I felt better already…..

Soon enough though, I made friends. More because after our first cycle tests, it became apparent that Sethy was a bit of the genius at the school stuff, scoring higher than everyone, and everyone wanted to be my friend. I started to get letters from girls. Valentines Day is a big affair at the hostel. The junior girls and boys shared a huge dining room for meals, so we were 300 kids at each meal. On valentines, all cards were delivered to the head prefects of the two hostels, and there was this whole ritual. The dining hall was decorated by the girls with balloons and hearts and stuff. After dinner, homework time (Prep) was cancelled for the ceremony of delivering all the cards and letters. Each one was read out, and the recipient had to walk up in front of the entire hall full of people to collect them. It was embarrassing, and it was meant to be. But fun…

So I was expecting about three or four. But ended up getting over fifty. And they let me sit down each time, then called my name again for the next one. So it was one of those things that legends are made of.

Then came the Initiation Concert (Groentjie Concert which literally means concert for the greenies lol). I was placed in a group of girls and we did three skiets. In the one, I was dressed in full scuba gear and had to sing “the Three Little Fishies”. It was a hit! My friends still talk about it today – twenty five years later. So Sethy was a bit camp back then, but because of my popularity, I didn’t really give a fuck. I loved wearing tight pants, and my hair was always longer than regulation. I could say stuff and get away with it.

That’s when Trevor first met me. He was the school photographer and had taken photo’s at the concert. I don’t remember him from then, but he told me about it after. He immediately made up his mind that he wanted me, and in typical pedophile mode, he started to plan. I can say that with absolute confidence, because I have seen him with other boys. The planning was meticulous. It followed a predictable path once you knew how it worked. There was always the confidence building. The building of trust. The ego strokes. The research into likes and dislikes. I saw it time after time over the next ten years. I know that his first response was love. The need for sex came after. I could see it in his eyes, in his mannerisms. He still firmly believes he has loved every one of his boys. I believe he did. But yeah, that’s no real excuse for sex with a minor actually.

A week after my thirteenth birthday, I joined the photographic club after my father bought me my first 35mm camera. It was a piece of shit, but it was mine. After the first meeting – run by Trev – he offered to get me a part time job at a photolab in town. He would arrange the necessary permissions with the hostel master. I felt special. Three days later, I was working at the shop with him, charged with film processing. I loved it. I got to spend a lot of time on my own in the dark, loading films onto a San Marco processor. I can still smell the chemicals and hear the nitrogen been pumped through the developer in short sharp blasts.

At some point, he found out I was crazy about anything aviation, and offered to take me up in a Cessna since he had just completed his PPL. I was ecstatic and I called my mother to get permission to go out with for the weekend so we could do some flying. She agreed and I could barely sleep the next three nights waiting for the weekend.

His planning started to pay off.

What a life changing weekend it was to end up being…