Lukas paid the taxi and walked into the house. He dumped the satchel with the books in it on the table in the hall. And he had started up the stairs when McCady appeared.

‘There you are, you wee bairn,’ she said.

Lukas stopped, and turned.

‘I’ve got your tea all ready for you.’

‘I thought I might just go upstairs,’ Lukas said. ‘I’ve got a headache.’

‘Now come on. You know you need to eat. You’re a wee slip of a thing.’

He was hungry, and if he didn’t eat now he’d be back down in half an hour, asking her for something.

He walked back down the steps reluctantly.

‘Are you going to have it in the kitchen with me?’

‘If you like.’

He always did have it in the kitchen with her. The only exception to this was when his father wasn’t working, though he was in his study now, obviously, or she wouldn’t have mentioned the kitchen.

‘You go wash your hands and I’ll heat the pot up.’

Lukas walked into the small bathroom at the back of the hall and looked at himself in the mirror.

What he saw surprised Matthew, because in Lukas’ eyes he was weak and small and plain. He winced at himself in the mirror, thinking he was nothing special. His white skin and pale hair. He was weak, and insipid, he thought.

He put his head down and concentrated on his hands, not wanting to face his reflection in the mirror.

Matthew recoiled a bit inside of him, wondering how Lukas couldn’t see what was there. He was so perfect.

Matthew found himself bending Lukas’ head up a little to look at himself again, and thinking, as he looked, how pretty he was.

‘You’re like a fucking girl,’ Lukas said to his reflection. He wanted to punch the mirror, to smash the glass with his fist, but he didn’t know how to do this.

Lukas dried his hands on a towel and closed the door behind him.

‘Well, then,’ Mrs McCady said, as he walked into the kitchen, ‘you look all fagged out.’

Lukas winced inwardly.

‘I’ve made a sponge, and a seed, and we’ve got cucumber sandwiches, and salmon.’

Lukas sat at the table and picked up a sandwich. A salmon quarter. He bit into it and the flavour burst in his mouth, a flavour Matthew had always hated but which tasted different now, in Lukas’ mouth, because it was something that Lukas liked.

Matthew found it strange, that the same flavour could taste so different in a different person’s mouth. It made a lot of sense out of why people liked different things.

‘Do you think people like different things because they taste different?’ Lukas asked her.

‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘Well, say you like salmon, but some people don’t. Do you think that’s because salmon tastes bad in their mouths?’

‘Do you think it’s off?’

‘What?’

‘Do you think it’s a bit wiffy?’

Lukas frowned. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘No. I do like it, but some people don’t.’

‘Well I do,’ she said, popping a whole quarter into her mouth and smiling as she chewed.

No matter how simple he made it she always missed the point.

Upstairs, when they had finished, Lukas locked the door that led into his wing of the house.

He sighed, and humped the books into his study, hoisting the bag onto the desk by the window. He walked into his sitting room and sat down on his couch, leaning back on it and staring at nothing.

Weren’t you going to have a wank?

He was going to have a wank.

It would be good.

Don’t make him.

It would be good, Lukas thought, turning his body around and lying on the couch. He closed his eyes and put his hands between his thighs.

But not right now.

You could use that cord again.

He could use that cord again.

What cord?

Shh.

That cord in the kitchen, that telephone cord, and you could tie it around your sack again.

He knew where it was. He could tie it around his sack again.

Lukas kicked his runners off and rubbed his feet against each other.

It wouldn’t be that bad if he just tied his balls off with that cord. He wouldn’t hurt himself if he just did that.

And those tongs. You could use those tongs, the ones in the kitchen drawer. Close them in that.

He could close his balls in those tongs again. That wouldn’t be so bad.

Yes.

Lukas got up suddenly and opened the door that led into his kitchen. It was spotlessly clean, the stainless steel surfaces looking like they’d never been used. He opened the top drawer near the sink and found what he was looking for. A pair of tongs. They had metal arms, with a ring that closed them, and black, plastic grippers as hard as wood.

He walked back into the sitting room and put them on the coffee table. He took his sweater off and threw it onto the couch. He was wearing a blue cotton shirt. He liked the feel of it against his skin. He unbuttoned the top button and pulled it out of his cords. He reached up and undid the button on his cords. Undid the fly. He pulled them down, and pulled them over his feet, leaving his jocks on, his socks, his shirt.

His jocks were little boy jocks, like Matthew had thought. Blue and white striped. Faded. And old. Like all of Lukas’ underwear seemed to be.

Matthew started to get hard.

Lukas reached down and twisted his cock up in his jocks.

Matthew’s cock, Lukas’ cock. Matthew’s hand, Lukas’ hand.

His cock was so small, so hard suddenly, and the jocks were bunched up in the crack of his arse. The elastic on the waistband loose and crinkly.

He walked across the hall and into his study and opened the second drawer down in his desk. There was a cord there, a pale grey cord, a cord that he had cut off of an old cell phone charger.

Lukas picked it up, feeling his cock jerk hard. He walked back across the hall into his sitting room, his cock straining forward in his jocks, straining to get out of the fabric, jutting upwards, and making a wide gap at the top.

Matthew wanted him to look in a mirror. He wanted to see what it looked like to be in Lukas’ body, in Lukas’ jocks.

Lukas picked up the tongs and walked back into the hall, walking down towards the end of the wing where there was a door. He opened it. Matthew knew what this room was. It was a dance studio, a ballet studio, which Lukas’ father had built for Lukas when he was a child, because Lukas had used to do ballet, though Matthew supposed he didn’t anymore. One year, when he was twelve, in his last year in grade school, Matthew had done ballet with Lukas, and they had practised in this room, though Matthew had never been any good at it, being awkward and clumsy when it came to dancing.

The room was long and wide, and it was lined with mirrors.

Lukas walked into it and stood in front of the mirrors. The sunlight was shining through the windows and one end and dust motes were circling. Slowly, because he wanted him to, Lukas started unbuttoning his shirt. He peeled it over his shoulders and put it on the bench behind him. And then he stood looking at himself in the mirror, in his socks and jocks, with his hard cock poking forward.

It was so small. Three of four inches at the most.

Matthew breathed in sharply, and was aware of himself doing this in the bed, in Christian’s bed.

Lukas ran his hand over his chest, over his stomach, or was it Matthew doing this. He reached up and pushed his hair back over his head. He was so perfect.

‘I’m so perfect,’ Lukas said.

And it was like he was in love with himself suddenly, like he was in love with his body. He reached down, or was it Matthew, and pressed his hand against his little boy dick in his jocks. Blue and white striped jocks. He was like a little boy.

‘I’m a little boy,’ Lukas said. And smiled at himself.

You’re beautiful.

He was beautiful.

Lukas pulled his jocks down slowly, letting his dick pop forward, so hard and perfect, like a little wiener. He pulled his jocks down onto his thighs and left them there, above his knees, or was it Matthew? Had Lukas wanted to…

Matthew couldn’t tell anymore.

Lukas put his knees together and watched his jocks fall down around his feet. He reached down and picked them up, tossing them onto the bench behind him.

Matthew wanted to see what his arse looked like.

Lukas turned around and looked over his shoulder, looking at how firm and ripe his little arse was.

What? he said to himself. Firm and ripe! He smiled, thinking it was silly.

But he did look okay.

If only he had some pubes. But it looked stupid without them.

He was like a little kid.

He frowned.

Would Matthew like him?

Matthew felt himself pulling away.

And was aware of Christian laughing, silently, somehow.

Smiling?

Of course not. Matthew wouldn’t be interested in him. Not after what had happened with the...

No way. He was a fucking freak.

Lukas picked the cord up from the bench behind him and pulled his balls down in his sack. He pulled the cord around the top of his sack and started to wind it, winding it tighter with every turn. It was long, far longer than it needed to be, and as he wound it, Matthew realised Lukas was losing control of what he was doing, going into some sort of trance, while he wound it tighter and tighter until he didn’t know what he was doing.

It was Christian, Matthew realised, forcing his hands, but Matthew was too worried about the pain in his balls, feeling all of it, to be able to stop him. He wanted to get out.

‘Oh fuck!’ he said, as Lukas stopped winding the cord.

Lukas heard the voice. Matthew had spoken in the bed.

Lukas realised how tight he had wound it, and could feel tears pricking at his eyes.

He should take it undone a bit. Wind it right undone and do it again, not so tight.

You don’t want to do that. It’s good like this, Christian thought.

And it did feel good somehow, but Matthew could barely stand it. He felt like he was going to fall to the floor.

Tie it how it is.

Lukas decided to tie it how it was.

He deserved that.

He interlaced the cords, and began to pull to tighten the knot, thinking he would just pull it a little bit, but he found himself pulling it as hard as he could, as though his hands had a mind of their own, and then he was tying it off into a solid knot.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ he said to himself, opening his mouth, breathing, and trying to straighten up his knees, not wanting to look at himself in the mirror, but wanting to see what it looked like, or was that Matthew?

He stood up straight and looked at himself in the mirror, putting his hand down and feeling the tightness of his sack.

But Matthew had done that. That was Matthew’s hand. Matthew was making him feel it, and thinking he could what? crush these balls in his hand, they weren’t his balls, except he couldn’t stand the pain.

But he could crush them.

Lukas wouldn’t do that. He had forgotten something, or remembered something he wanted to get, but he was thinking about it like he didn’t want to let himself know what it was. He stepped awkwardly back up the hall and into his sitting room, feeling every step, and he opened the door to his bedroom. There was a large chest of drawers by the bed. He knelt down in front of it carefully, getting down on his knees. He pulled the bottom drawer out, pulling it all the way out, and laying it on the carpet beside him.

He got up on his knees and bent forward, reaching into the space at the bottom of the chest with his hand, and he pulled out what he expected to find there, not one thing, but two things, though he didn’t look at them, didn’t want to think about what it was that he had.

Matthew couldn’t see. Lukas was keeping it tightly in his hand, walking back up the hall to the studio. But was that Christian? keeping Matthew from thinking about it. Matthew didn’t know. He was in pain. A pain that somehow felt good in Lukas’ body.

Lukas put whatever it was onto the bench, though he could see it out of the corner of his eye. It was a what? Matthew couldn’t see it. It was like Christian wouldn’t let him, like Lukas and Christian didn’t want to see it or think about it so he couldn’t see it.

Lukas picked up the tongs.

What the fuck was he going to do with those? Matthew wondered.

Lukas squatted down on the floor and opened the tongs, sliding the little ring back. Matthew realised what he was going to do.

No, Matthew thought.

But it was like Lukas didn’t hear him.

There was a bead of come on the end of his cock, Matthew’s little cock, and now he was going to close his balls in the tongs.

No, Matthew thought, and tried to flinch his hands away, but it was like Christian was stronger than him, forcing Lukas’ hands, though Lukas was forcing them as well.

Lukas closed the tongs together on his balls, using one hand, and then, with the other hand, he started sliding the little ring up the arm of the tongs, sliding it all the way up until it was as far as it would go.

‘Ow!’ he said, making the sound long and hard. He sucked air sharply through his gritted teeth.

Lukas’ balls were bulging out of the sides of the tongs. The tong heads were flat, and if Matthew used his hands now, he could squeeze them together and crush Lukas’ balls probably. Damage them, anyway.

Lukas put his hands down and started to squeeze them together.

Ow! Matthew thought, feeling his cock rear up, and he was aware of himself turning in the bed, turning to face Christian and grabbing him, putting his arms around Christian, and jutting his cock forward into Christian’s groin.

Lukas squeezed harder.

It was like he could make himself come just by doing this, but not quite.

Suddenly, his hands gripped the tongs, and he started to spin it, twisting it round a quarter turn, a half turn, three quarters, a full turn and twisting his balls up till tears were running down his face…

Matthew was in the bed and he was screaming. He was gripping Christian. They had their arms around each other. Their legs intertwined. He was thrusting forward with his groin into Christian’s groin, where Christian had a cunt, a what?

But he couldn’t move properly. He was paralysed. He couldn’t get out of the dream.

Christian let the tongs go.

They spun underneath him.

Lukas fell backwards onto his arse, wondering how the fuck he had done that.

That was too much, he thought, feeling scared.

He reached back behind him on the bench and picked up what was there. He squatted up on his haunches again, though Matthew could barely see, could barely think with the pain.

Lukas reached back and pulled a tube up in front of his face, a tube of lubricant, and then he looked down between his legs.

There was a what there? A dildo.

Lukas covered it in lubricant and smeared a handful into his arse.

He reached up and fingered himself and few times, and then he turned the dildo on. It started to hum, to jiggle and vibrate.

Oh, fuck, Matthew thought.

Lukas squatted down.

There was no way that would go in there, Matthew thought, and he wanted Lukas to stop, but Lukas sat right back down till it felt like it would tear Matthew’s insides out. The dildo slipped up, past his sphincter, smooth and humming. It was in there, and there was a sensation of pleasure, almost too much too bear, the feeling of the balls being squeezed off in the tongs, tied down hard, the dildo, humming, going in and out of Lukas’ arse.

Lukas groaned. Pulling himself. He was coming.

Matthew thrust forward, thrusting his groin into Christian’s.

‘Close your eyes,’ Christian said.

They all of them closed their eyes.

Lukas came.