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Quite a boarding school! This story is a work of fiction, all characters and plot lines are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. 1. A quiet study hall Lewis Fatbind raised his head from the paper on which he was writing tonight’s set of instructions. He looked over the study hall he was in charge of. Three lines. Two rows. Twelve boys studying hard, using every single minute of the fifty minutes period to get done with their homework, to get rid of chores, to be ready for play time. They kept concentrated at what they were doing, as there were twenty more minutes to go before they would go out for the first evening break, go and have dinner, take the second break and play some sports, then go back to their house where tonight was supposed to be special. And they still had to keep their reputation as the elite of academic studies at Saint Thomas More. It was most pleasing to Fatbind’s eye to behold once more the wonderful setup of his study hall. He had designed it all by himself. And he had yet another occasion to admire how efficient the whole design was. Steven and Mike, two usually cheerful ninth graders, endeavoured to trade discretely a sharp pencil against a red ball pen. They had managed to communicate about the object of the exchange without attracting their prefect’s attention, but they would eventually get caught in the act. Fatbind never really understood why some would still try their luck when any motion was so closely monitored and there was no real hope to go unnoticed when he watched them over. So Steven and Mike decided to give it a little try. But of course the hobbles were too short. Not until these boys had done something foolish would have it been possible to notice that they were not totally free. Their legs were tied to those of the chairs they were sitting in. And some thin chains linked to some string bracelet forbade any motion outside from their studying position. And it all ended in the pen and the pencil falling to the floor. They turned to Fatbind, quite sure they had been spotted, and he gave them his nicest ‘I’m glad you’re asking for it’ grin. They melted. They knew it was not the time to give him an opportunity to exclude them from tonight’s planned games and entertainment. But it was too late. Fatbind rose from his desk and came to stand behind the two culprits. Even though they had wanted to beg for mercy, the very wide strip of transparent adhesive tape plastered over each mouth would have prevented such an attempt. “ Am I too lenient? You think you can disobey? Or are you volunteering for a little stay in the extra study room?” Yeah. Right. A little stay, Steven thought. That was their luck, being denied the evening games by having to spend the evening in the small, bare room with just desks and chairs. And now they were his pick. “You need a little stay at the pole right now,” said Lewis as he untied them from their seats while cuffing their hands behind their backs. He helped them up on the room wide podium upon which his own desk sat prominently. Mike loved to see the prefect’s body set into motion. His figure was always enhanced by sexy sportswear. Today, he had his ultra tight ultra shiny track suit on. His 21 year-old body was lean and wiry, very similar to Mike’s own, and Lewis was one his most prominent role models at the moment. What could be at play in the fascination the boy had for the prefect© Copyright Bondwriter 2006
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