'Does that feel nice, Gordon?' he enquired. Harding replied: 'Oh yes, sir, please rub faster as I think I'm about to spend.'
Bunny obliged him by working his hand to and fro at a greater pace until, with a sudden spurt, an eruption of white seed burst out of the boy's cock like a miniature fountain. 'This isn't playing the game,' muttered George under his breath. I nodded my head and whispered: 'Let's go downstairs quietly and then make a noise as if we've just come in. That will frighten the balls off them both.'
This is precisely what we did and the result was exactly as I had forecast. By the time we reached the office, Harding was standing fully dressed besides Mr. Hare who was breathing hard but who otherwise looked relatively composed. 'Ah Nugent-Bull and Dashwood – what can I do for you, boys?' he enquired cordially. I frowned at George who I sensed was about to make a tart retort about not needing Bunny's fingers on his cock, and I prevented him from doing so by answering quickly and before my chum could open his mouth.
'We've come to return your whistle to you, sir. Nugent-Bull took it back with his kit by mistake after the footer this afternoon.' I explained. George threw the whistle on to the treatment table and with a steely glint in his eye he said to Harding: 'Hello there, Gordon, are you doing some extra training for the match against Rookwood juniors on Thursday?' Mr. Hare replied for the third former. 'No, no, Harding simply twisted his foot and I invited him here so that I could give his ankle a massage,' he said as he patted the youngster on the head. 'Off you go now, and try to rest the foot as much as you can. With any luck, you'll be fighting fit for the game.' Despite his advice, Harding scuttled out and I pulled George's sleeve as I politely wished the sports master good evening.
'Good evening to you, chaps, and thank you for giving me back my whistle,' he said, as he stuffed it into his pocket. 'The great South African athlete, Laurence Nathan, gave me this whistle whilst we were at Oxford. I used to time his sprints, you know, and next Spring, he's off to represent the Orange Free State at these new Olympic Games some obscure French Baron is staging in Athens.' As we walked back to our study, George argued strongly that we should have confronted the sports master about how we had seen him fiddling with young Harding, but I shook my head and said: 'Look, for what it's worth, I would think that our arrival gave Bunny quite a fright and he won't try and seduce any other boy in a hurry – but if he does, it's odds-on he'll be discovered, just like we caught him out this evening. 'And let me ask you this, old boy. Hand on your heart, would you have got so hot under the collar if it had been Freda or one of the other servant girls whacking off young Harding?' George wrinkled his brow as he reflected upon how best to answer my question and finally said: 'Well, I suppose not, though I would still have considered it to have been a misdemeanour on her part.' 'So would most other people, including myself,' I agreed as we turned the comer into the fifth-form corridor.
'Certainly, no-one has the right to interfere with a fourteen-year-old kid like Harding, not even a well-intentioned lady like Lizzie Dickerson. I think we should have a quiet word with Harding and tell him to inform the headmaster if Bunny Hare attempts to interfere with him again.' 'Very well, Henry, if you insist then I'll go along with what you say,' said George. 'But I still think we should report the matter to Dr Muttley ourselves. After all, Harding didn't seem to need much persuasion to let Bunny toss him off. How do we know if Bunny has pressured other boys who might not be so compliant?'
This was a good point which forced me to reconsider my position.
'Yes, that's true and I must say that I hadn't thought about that,' I confessed. 'Yet, I still wonder whether making a meal out of this incident might not do more harm than good. In all probability, left to his own devices, Harding will forget about this business, especially when it's time for someone like Lizzie to instruct him in the joys of fucking a woman. 'However, perhaps you are right and we should warn Bunny to pick on a playmate of his own size,' I commented.
George nodded and said: 'Yes, I really do believe we should speak to him about curbing his proclivities, on pain of being reported to Dr Muttley. I know you're a tolerant chap, Henry, who likes to live and let live, but Bunny's behaviour is beyond the pale. If he had been having it away with say, Mr. Hutchinson or Smeeth the groundsman…'
The very idea of these gentlemen being involved in such activities made us both burst into laughter and we agreed not to mention the matter to anyone-not even Johnny Bridges-and that we would speak to our sports master after supper.
Tuesday, November 13th, 1895 (During Prep) Last night was so hectic that I did not have time to record all that happened until this evening. What luck that Mr. Hutchinson has gone down with a heavy cold and has not set us any homework. I can use the hour set aside for 'prep' to finish writing up my diary whilst my pals play Ludo with Mabb and Osbourne in the next study.
During supper last night, George and I worked out what we would say to Bunny Hare when we went round to his quarters after the meal.
Neither of us was looking forward to this encounter, but in the end it did not turn out as badly as we had feared. When we knocked on his door he ushered us in and immediately invited us to sit down. Then he sat down himself, and with his elbows on the table and holding his head in his hands, he said quietly: 'Boys, I know why you have come to see me. Unless I am greatly mistaken, you are aware that I committed a senseless, foolish and criminal act this evening in the gymnasium. I deserve no mercy, but for the sake of my parents, I still beg you not to make public what you saw. Be assured, though, I am about to write my letter of resignation to Dr Muttley. I looked across at George who cleared his throat and slowly replied: 'Perhaps that would be best sir, but I want you to know that Dashwood and myself had no intention of telling anyone about what happened between you and Harding except perhaps the headmaster, and if you are leaving us, I don't see why we need to say anything to him.' 'Indeed not,' I said quietly.
Trying not to sound too pompous, I added: 'And it gives me no joy to see you leave. I'm sure that most other chaps in the school will agree that you have been a superb sports master. But, if you really are a follower of this lifestyle, perhaps it would be best if you followed some other career?' 'You may be right Dashwood,' he said unhappily. 'Yet I am far from being a fully-fledged homosexual. If only there were opportunities here to enjoy sex with suitable young females, I would be the first to take them. But the sad fact is that I have never sampled such joys.' 'Good heavens, sir. Have you never fucked a – I mean, never had intercourse?' George blurted out.
Poor Bunny Hare shook his head and said: 'No, I have never had the chance to do so. You see, Nugent-Bull, I was brought up in a very stern environment. No mention was ever made of sexual matters and my mother would never even use such harmless words as trousers – she would call them “unmentionables”. Even the legs of our piano were covered for the so-called sake of decency. At the age of thirteen I was sent to an equally strict school where, in the dormitories, a senior boy introduced me to the joys of masturbation. 'When I reached Oxford I thought at last I would be able to meet some girls, but the Dean of my college was almost as puritanical as my father and I never managed to progress further than a quick kiss or two under the mistletoe with one of the servant girls at Christmas. Since then my only outlet has been onanism'. This was a term neither George nor I had heard of before and George repeated blankly: 'Onanism, sir, what's that?' Bunny gave a ghost of a smile as he explained: 'What is vulgarly known as pulling your pud. Anyway, I have tried to sublimate my sexual desires, but the sight of naked boys playing with themselves in the showers after a game of football brings back memories of the games of mutual masturbation I indulged in at school.