A Puericil Journey

A Puericil Journey 5

[8,329 words]

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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A PUERICIL JOURNEY - PART FIVE

OWEN'S JOURNAL

So I'm going to Jamie's school as you know, but I can't start until next week for some reason, so I got a few extra days off as hoped. Unfortunately, Mum had to go back to work and wouldn't let me stay home alone so I spent most of this time at my Grandma's bored out of my mind. I'm actually looking forward to starting school now!

The big news of the week was that yesterday (Thursday) night I went to dance class. Jamie was late and I was there on my own for five minutes panicking that he wasn't going to turn up, but then he did. There were lots of other people there already of course, but I didn't know any of them. Except Bea that is. She's in my year at my old school. She wasn't in my class, but I knew her. I did not expect her to be there. I shuffled behind a group of people to avoid her, but she must have x-ray eyes or something because she spotted me and came right over.

"Owen Hicks?" She grinned, nudging my shoulder like we were old mates. "What a surprise! I didn't know you were on Puericil?"

"I—uh—yeah," I mumbled, tugging at my t-shirt collar like it was suddenly choking me. Bea just kept grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet like this was the best news she'd heard all week.

"Cool!" She leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone at school."

"Uh, thank you. Although I'm not going there anymore. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I come to help out Ms Chervinskaya. She'll be taking the class and she's my dance teacher too. I've been dancing since I was six you know."

I shrugged as if to say "good for you, I suppose?"

"You gonna change? Class starts in like..." She checked the wall clock. "Four minutes. At least, it’s supposed to…."

Jamie chose that moment to barrel through the studio doors, his dance shoes slung over one shoulder. "Sorry!" he panted, skidding to a stop beside me. "Mum couldn't find my..." His voice trailed off as he noticed Bea. His whole posture stiffened.

Bea rolled her eyes. "Relax, Jamie. I don't bite." She turned back to me. "Ms. Chervinskaya's running late too, so you've got time." She gestured toward a door marked CHANGING ROOM. "Go on boys, hurry up and change."

Jamie grabbed my wrist. "C'mon." He practically dragged me toward the changing room, shooting Bea a suspicious glance over his shoulder. The door clicked shut behind us, and he rounded on me immediately. "You know her?"

"Yes, she goes to my old school, why?"

"Oh, nothing, I just find her annoying. She thinks she's a great dancer but she's not that good. And whatever I do it's always, oh, that's good for a Puericil boy . Really patronising."

"I don't know her well but she seemed OK at school."

"Well, she's not. You've been warned."

I changed the subject. "So the teacher is female as well?" I'd been hoping for a male teacher as I seemed to be surrounded by girls and women at the moment.

"Yes, but she really is very good. She was a professional ballerina. But she is good at this sort of thing too. You are not wearing that are you?" Jamie said, eyeing my board shorts and t-shirt combo.

"Well, yes. I didn't know what to wear. Mum thought this would be OK."

"The t-shirt is OK, although for future reference, we wear plain white ones for class. That will do for now. But the shorts are ridiculous. How do you expect to dance in those?"

"But this is like, street dance, isn't it?"

"Contemporary. All the same, for practise you need to be comfortable. I'll find you something, hang on."

Jamie disappeared and as I waited for him, I noticed the other boys - there were six of them, raging between maybe a couple of years older than me judging by size, and a little kid who looked about 10 at most. Though it's hard to tell with boys who take Puericil before they hit puberty. Mostly, I noticed that they were all wearing, or getting into white t-shirts and tight shorts that looked like something girls would wear. They were like hot pants. Some were red, some blue, and one wore yellow, but all were the same style. They looked like they were made of the same thing as my compression tights for football and they did not leave much to the imagination. From behind, they looked painted on, and although they weren't quite as bad in the front, they were still far too revealing.

My eyes flicked from one crotch to another, which you might think is weird, but it was hard not to. Some boys shorts were better at hiding their junk than others, but some you could pretty much see everything, or at least the shape of everything. One thing I found oddly distracting - I've always just pulled my underwear up over my bits, leaving them still hanging down. Isn't that what everyone does, surely? Apparently not. Two boys seemed to have pulled their shorts up and left their dicks stuck in the other direction. One boy's dick was clearly pointing up and to one side diagonally. But the other's was pointing straight up under his shorts! He didn't have a stiffy or anything, it's just how he had pulled his tight shorts up but you could see it, sticking straight up towards his belly, with his balls clearly visible below. It looked pretty funny but I was now too worried about having to wear these things myself to laugh.

Sure enough, Jamie returned with a blue pair of the same shorts. At least the blue ones seemed less revealing in the front than the red and yellow ones, but they were just as bad from behind.

"Do I have to wear those?"

"Of course. Don't worry, they are super comfy, good for dance and you'll soon forget you're wearing them anyway. You should get some proper socks and shoes next time as well."

I noticed the other boys wore white socks that came to just below the knee and little flat shoes which weren't the pink ballet shoes I was half expecting, but which still looked far too dainty for my feet.

"Hurry up Owen. Everyone else has gone." Jamie said while hurriedly swapping his sweat pants and underwear for a red pair of shorts. His freckled face showed no embarrassment at changing in front of me, but why would it, I guess? We had seen each other naked before. All then same, I turned and tried to make my own exchange of clothes as rapidly and discreetly as possible.

"We don't need to wear underwear under these. That does mean that those are yours now by the way." He pointed out as I pulled on my shorts and adjusted them with a bit of a disgusted look on my face. They were super, super tight, but to be honest, were quite comfortable. I had to make do with my regular shirt, socks and trainers, so at this point I followed Jamie as he hurried back out to the studio.

"Come on, Owen, and chill out! It's fun, I promise!"

"Alright, alright..." I hurried after him. "At least we're not wearing tutus."

"Boys don't wear tutus, Owen."

"No, I know that. It was a joke." I hugged myself, not for warmth but because I normally like to put my hands in my pockets and now didn't know what to do with them.

Ms Chervinskaya welcomed us and without much fuss told us to start stretching. Of course, everyone else already knew what to do. They were all holding on to a bar, stretching their legs out. It looked suspiciously like ballet to me, but I had no chance to argue. Bea popped up by my side, now wearing a leotard and white tights.

Bea's fingers pressed lightly against the small of my back as she nudged me toward the barre. "I'll show you what to do, Owen. First position," she chirped, demonstrating with effortless grace. I lifted my leg, wobbling all over the place immediately.

"Easy, tiger." Her palm slid beneath my thigh, hoisting my leg higher than I could manage alone. The other hand cupped my buttock, fingers splaying across the tight fabric to support me. My face began to feel warm.

"Relax your hip," she instructed, tapping the offending joint. "You're tensed up like you're afraid the barre's gonna bite."

Jamie snorted from two spots down. I shot him a glare, which only made his grin widen as he was busy making it look easy.

"Don't compare," Bea murmured, following my gaze. She adjusted my ankle on the barre, her thumb brushing the hollow behind my knee. "Jamie's been doing this for a long time. You'll get there." The words were kind, but in my head it sounded like a threat.

Bea's fingers lingered just a second too long on my inner thigh as she adjusted my stretch, long enough to make me side-eye her. "Better," she whispered, tilting her head to examine my posture like I was a project she'd taken personal interest in. The studio mirrors reflected my flaming cheeks back at me twelve times over. Across the room, Jamie smirked into his own stretch, his red shorts clinging to his butt as he moved his legs. For the second time I told myself to stop staring at other boys shorts. I don't normally do that sort of thing, it was just very distracting. I glanced at my own reflection to see if mine looked the same.

Ms. Chervinskaya clapped twice sharply and the class froze mid-motion. "Free practice everyone, while I assess our new boy," she announced in an accent that turned 'boy' into 'bwoy' but I seemed to be the only one amused by this. Bea gave my shoulder a squeeze of encouragement before flitting off to join the others.

The teacher circled her prey (me) and looked me over. Up close, her eyes were piercing and her eyebrows gave her a permanent look of mild surprise, but she had an athletic looking body.

Then her stern expression melted suddenly into something warmer "First time in tights?" she asked, nodding at my shorts. Her voice had lost its drill-sergeant edge, replaced by a conspiratorial lilt that made my shoulders relax an inch.

I tugged at the hem self-consciously. "First time in...anything like this."

"Mm." She snapped her fingers toward a stack of mats in the corner. "Well, welcome...Owen isn’t it?"

I nodded.

"I am delighted to have you with us, Owen. Why don't you sit and watch the others for a while? Then we'll get you involved.""

I sank onto the padded surface, grateful for the reprieve and watched he studio mirrors reflecting twenty versions of the smallest boy, the one who looked about ten, bending effortlessly at the waist while Bea corrected his posture with hands that lingered just as long on him as they had on me.

Ms. Chervinskaya perched beside me. "You see Jayden, there?" She pointed to the boy, currently balanced on one leg like a heron. "He started Puericil at eight. Couldn't sit still in class, always fighting." Her eyes flicked to me. "Now look at him!”

I wanted to ask how old he was now, but kept quiet, nodding approval at his form as though I knew anything about dancing.

I noticed most of the rest of the class just stood about watching Jamie, who seemed to me to be showing off. He was spinning about on one leg really fast, then kicking his leg up behind him until it went over his head like a scorpions tail, and flipping his whole body over kind of like a front flip. It was pretty cool, except he kept messing up the landing and ending up on his butt every time. Finally, he nailed one and looked very happy with himself. For some reason I felt proud of him and when he shot a smile at me I gave him a genuine smile back.

After that, I watched the other boys spinning about here and there. Some were doing stuff that looked like street dance. Definitely cooler that ballet, but seeing them dancing in front of me made me realise that I would feel really self conscious doing it myself. One of the older looking boys who seemed to have pulled rank and taken control of the music was doing a dance routine to it that was practically x-rated! No way is that something I'm doing.

After a while of watching, Ms whatever her name is called to me and then called Jayden over.

"Jayden, darling," Ms….alright, I'll write it properly this time - Ms Chervinskaya called, clicking her fingers toward the smallest boy. He scampered over like an eager puppy, his shoes skidding along the polished floor. "Show Owen your beginner's sequence, yes? Slowly. Perhaps Owen would like to try and copy and follow along?"

Jayden beamed up at me—literally up, since he barely reached my shoulder—and positioned himself center floor with exaggerated ceremony. "It's easy-peasy," he announced in a high pitched voice, planting his hands on his hips. "Watch my feet first."

I stared as his feet traced precise patterns—step, cross, step, twirl—his legs moving with unnatural precision. The routine looked simple enough, but when Jayden grabbed my wrist to demonstrate the arm movements I felt a bit silly.

"Your turn!" He bounced on his toes, grinning when I fumbled the first crossover. "No, no—like this!" He seized my hips abruptly, wrenching them sideways with surprising strength. I caught a glance of myself in those damn mirrors and felt even more silly..

Jamie suddenly materialized beside us. "Can't I dance with Owen?," he asked, then muttered, "I'm better than Jayden," shooting Jayden a glare. “He can’t tie his own shoelaces.” The young boy looked crestfallen.

"I heard that, Jamie!" Ms Chervinskaya said, "don't be mean. And no, you have to practice your routine for the performance and it is too difficult for a beginner. Please continue, Jayden. You are doing well, Owen."

Jamie walked off with a bit of a sulky expression.

"Sorry you are stuck with me." Said Jayden.

"Ignore Jamie, I don't know what I am doing and I’m glad of your help." He seemed to brighten up a little so I kept chatting. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm fifteen."

"Fifteen! Then your're older than me! But you look about..."

"Eight?"

"I was going to say ten but...."

"Oh, that's good. I have been on Puericil since I was Eight. I have never had puberty. But I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say you were. I was just a bit shocked, that's all. Is it weird being 15 and trapped in a 10 year olds body?"

"No," He said with the ease of someone who had been asked that question many times before and had had time to think it over. "It's what I'm used to. I never looked 15 yet. But I'm not stuck at eight inside. I study the same things as another 15 year old, and I know a lot about stuff."

I was so desperate to ask how it worked, but this wasn't the time or place. So we got on with it. I actually had fun in the end, though I was pretty awful at it. Jayden found my awkwardness amusing but he was too enthusiastic to resist, so I ended up giving it a proper go and doing alright I suppose. It was more fun that I thought it would be, anyway.

Jamie was already in the locker room when I got back there. I couldn't resist asking why he'd been mean to Jayden.

"Why? Are you his best mate now?"

"No, just seemed a bit harsh that's all. Are you jealous?" I grinned.

"Course not, but I was really looking forward to showing you the ropes and I barely spoke to you the whole time."

"I know, but there was no need to be cruel."

He signed with irritation. "Yes, yes, I know. It's done now. Anyway, I'm sure Jayden will be happy to be your best mate, most people don't bother with him."

I'm pretty sure he was jealous! But I was too curious about what he'd just said to press the point. I'd thought Puericil boys were supposed to be nice. That's what all the adults say. The women say nice meaning gentle and the men say nice meaning soft. But Jamie was talking about the same shitty bullying that goes on at any regular school.

"How come?"

"Did you know he is actually 15?"

"Yeah, he told me."

"I think people are just freaked out by that. They don't know what to say to him."

"That's a shame. He seemed alright to me."

Jamie sighed again. "Alright Saint Owen, I'll do something to make it up to him next week, just for you."

"Those flips you were doing were cool, by the way."

All he said in reply was a clipped "thanks" but I could see his mood change and the pleased look in his eyes as he turned to his locker.

A few boys were in the shower. I wasn't going to bother, and I don't think Jamie was either, but then Bea appeared.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked.

"I'm just here to supervise the showers. Oh, dear, who is already in the shower? Naughty boys! You know you are supposed to wait for a supervisor. And you two, get your clothes off! Typical boys, can't be trusted to wash."

"I was going to wash at home actually."

"See what I mean about her?" said Jamie.

"Yeah, what a jerk" I replied under my breath.

I reluctantly stripped and the shower room steam clung to my skin before I'd even stepped under the water. Jamie elbowed me toward the farthest showerhead which I thought was a good idea as I felt really embarrassed about having to shower in front of Bea. This would probably get back to the other girls in my year. My old year.

"Bitch," Jamie muttered as he soaped his milky white body. I laughed out loud. I also wondered if Jamie's pubes had matched his red hair when he’d had them.

"Boys! Stop messing about." Bea shouted. I don't think she'd heard what Jamie said. I faced the wall and concentrated on washing myself as briefly as possible.

"Don't forget to wash your willies! Smelly boys."

"Yeah, you were right about her, Jamie, I should have listened."

After the shower, Bea hung around making drying more awkward, and wouldn't leave until she had checked we had dried our hair properly.

When she finally did, I caught Jamie's arm and pointed at Jayden, packing his bag alone in a corner.

"OK..." he sighed, and went over to him. "Jayden, I'm sorry I was mean earlier. I didn't mean it."

Jayden looked surprised and a little suspicious. "S'Okay." he said, then after a pause, "I do know how to tie my shoelaces by the way. I just needed help that time."

"I'm sure."

"And nobody would help, and then I got in trouble for being late."

"Look, I'm sorry Jayden, I've obviously been a prick to you and I feel bad now."

"OK. Never mind."

Jamie looked exasperated. Jayden spoke again, this time directly to me; "Can we be friends Owen?"

"Of course. You can be friends with both of us!"

Jayden looked like he wasn't sure whether to be happy or disappointed with my response.

"I promise Jamie isn't horrible really." I was going to add that he just says stuff before he engages his brain, but I thought better of it as I didn't want to upset Jamie. Trying to make and keep new friends when you have suddenly been cut adrift from all your old ones takes a bit of diplomacy.

"Well, I won't ever be mean to you again." Jamie added.

"Alright then, sure. Friends?"

"Friends."

***

Afterwards, as me and Jamie sat shoulder to shoulder on the grass outside, waiting for our parents, I thanked Jamie for going along with it and promised him that Jayden seemed alright to me, we just needed to get to know him.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Just don't start hanging out with him more than me."

"As if.”

“I haven’t had any close friends since I was on Puericil, you see. A few boys at school are alright, and some of the ones you just met, but no one I’ve really hit it off with. My old best friend said we’d stay in touch when I went to the new school, but in the end he stopped replying to my messages.”

“That’s shit, sorry, bro. I know how you feel though, it’s happened to me this summer.”

“I knew I liked you as soon as I first met you.”

“I don’t know why, I think I was a bit rude.” I replied.

“You were OK. But you seemed cool. I might be on Puericil, but I still think it’s cool to be cool.”

“Well, thanks. I’m not cool though, I just do my own thing.”

“That is cool to me.”

“Well you grew on me for sure!” I laughed, “Genuinely impressed with that in there. You were clearly the star player of that dance class. I didn’t realise.”

“Thank you.” He blushed a little. “See, I’ve danced since before I was on Puericil. It’s just now I’m a Puericil boy no one is surprised. Be honest, you weren’t, were you? But before I’d keep it to myself. It’s not all bad being on Puericil, see?”

“I guess not. I’ve had a new experience today I definitely wouldn’t have had before. And don’t get me wrong, I really want to come back next week - but I don’t think dancing can replace football for me.”

“Well, why don’t you still play that too? I’ll come with you if you like. I’m not as bad as you’d think. Probably!”

“It’s not the same for us, Jamie. There’s no tournament for Puericil boys, they just play each other in a friendly every week and are not even allowed to keep track of the score.”

“Well…perhaps you’ll find something else?” He put a hand on my back as if he sensed his answer wasn’t enough comfort by itself.

“Perhaps. Where the hell are our Mums?”

“Oh, mine is always late. She’s a lot less perfect that she likes people to think.” He giggled.

“Well, mine’s always on time. What’s going on?”

***

We sat in silence enjoying the last of the warm sunshine for a few moments before watching a white van jerk noisily to a stop two houses down. A man in a stained t-shirt hopped out, scanning the street with quick, twitchy movements before ducking through an open garden gate. Jamie followed my gaze just as the guy reappeared clutching a squirming Yorkshire terrier under one arm like a football. The dog's yips were sharp and panicked, muffled only when the man shoved it into the van's cargo space and slammed the door.

"Hey…are you seeing this?" I hissed, fingers digging into Jamie's forearm.

"Yeah - That's definitely not his dog! "

We both froze as the man's head swiveled toward us. For a heartbeat, his eyes locked onto ours, flat and assessing, before he yanked the driver's side door open. The engine growled to life and the van drove on.

Without thinking, I was on my feet. "It's a dead end, he'll turn around and come back this way....if I stop him, are you up for letting the dog out the back?"

"What do you mean stop him?"

There was no time to explain. The van's engine roared louder as it swung back around the cul-de-sac, tires screeching against the tarmac. My pulse hammered in my throat, but my legs were already moving before my brain caught up. I lunged into the road directly in the van’s path, arms outstretched. The van's brakes shrieked. For one horrible second, I saw the grille looming, smelled burning rubber, felt my knees buckle—then the bumper stopped inches from my shins. I staggered back and landed hard on my tailbone.

"YOU LITTLE MORON!" The driver's face contorted behind the windshield, his fist slamming the horn. "I'll fucking run you over next time!"

"Now Jamie!" I wheezed, scrambling sideways. "Get it now!"

Jamie hesitated—just for a heartbeat—but then he was sprinting toward the van's rear doors. The man twisted in his seat, cursing, but Jamie already had the handle. The doors flew open with a metallic groan, and a blur of tan fur launched itself into the street with a high-pitched yelp. The terrier hit the pavement running, its tail floating behind it as it bolted toward the nearest garden.

"Oi! That's my fucking dog!" The man wrenched his door open, but I was already moving—stumbling upright to block him. His hand clamped around my wrist like a vice, yanking me close enough to smell his sour breath. "You're dead, you little...."

Shit shit shit! I had not actually thought this through at all! Of course he wouldn't just drive off when we let the dog out! I started to shake with adrenaline. Jamie was legging it back to the community center but I could hardly blame him.

The man's grip tightened painfully on my wrists as he hauled me closer, close enough to see the yellow stains on his teeth. I thought I was done for until Jamie's voice cut through the panic.

"Leave him alone!"

I twisted just in time to see Jamie running behind the center's security guard who was shouting to the man to let me go. The dog thief's eyes darted between us, calculating. For one terrifying second, I thought he might drag me into the van, but hen his grip eased and he released me so suddenly I staggered backwards.

"Stay out of grown men's business, you little freaks," he spat, shoving me backward hard enough that I fell again. Tires squealed as the van lurched away, nearly clipping the security guard who was trying to stop him.

And then Mum was there, her hands fluttering over my shoulders like startled birds. "Owen! Are you hurt? Look at me…" Her thumbs brushed my cheekbones, tilting my face up. The fear in her voice actually scared me for a second.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Don't worry."

"Are you OK lad?" Asked the security man.

"Yeah, honest, I’m OK. Thank you." I noticed that Mrs Coombes had also now appeared. I turned to Jamie. "Thanks for getting help. That was quick thinking."

"Yeah, well. I knew our Mums would be waiting in the foyer. It's where we were supposed to be, I just wanted to talk to you a bit longer so I brought you out here." He whispered.

"Bloody hell, Jamie, you're a dark horse."

"And you're a hero! Mum, Owen stopped that man stealing the dog!"

"And Jamie did. We did!" I smiled, still breathing hard.

Jamie's grin faltered when Mrs. Coombes grabbed his shoulder hard enough to make him wince. "Are you out of your mind? That man could've had a knife!" She turned to me, "Or…or… just driven over you!"

My Mum wasn't yelling. She was just staring at me with this weird, blank disappointment that somehow hurt worse. "For God's sake, Owen. What where you thinking? The Puericil was supposed to have stopped this sort of stupid behaviour."

"But Mum, I saved someone's dog!"

"We'll discuss this at home," she said softly, and that's when my stomach dropped. I knew that “discuss” meant a spanking, and home meant a long nervous wait for it.

I turned sadly to say goodbye to Jamie and he hugged me, tight. I've hugged lots of boys before at football to celebrate a win, but it was always quick. This was different. His cheek was next to mine and we squeezed each other silently, each knowing that this would probably be the last time we ever saw each other due to the fact that our Mums were about to kill us.

HELEN’S JOURNAL

I'd dropped Owen off at the dance studio, which was actually in a small leisure centre not too far away. The class was expected to last 90 minutes, and since it was a 45 minute round trip to go home and come back, I'd brought a book and was quite looking forward to reading it in the car while I waited.

Before I got a chance, a lady dropping off her son accosted me in the foyer and started talking to me. Her manicured hand landed on my forearm before I could escape to the car. "You're new," she declared cheerfully. "I'm Rebecca. Let's get coffee, there's a decent place next door, much better than the cafeteria here."

"Oh, I was just going to..." I gestured vaguely towards the door. "But coffee would be lovely."

***

Ten minutes later we are sitting together in a cafe.

“I’m Rebecca.”

“You said. Oh, I’m Helen. So sorry I forgot I hadn’t told you my name.”

“And your son is new to dancing?”

“Yes. And new to Puericil really. It’s only been a couple of months.”

“Oh gosh, a real newbie then, aren’t you? I’ve been a Puericil mum for seven years now.”

“SEVEN YEARS?” I almost spat out my coffee.

“Oh yes. My Jayden was eight years old when we put him on it. He’s never hit puberty.”

My jaw dropped open. “How long do you plan to keep him on it?”

“Another three years I suppose.” She leaned in conspiratorially; “I wish I never had to take him off it. He’s such an adorable little thing. But I know I’ll have too. It goes by all too soon you know.”

Wow. What to say to that? I mean, it does, but most people don’t have an eight year old for seven years.

“What happens when you do take him off? Does he suddenly become eighteen?”

“Physically? Oh no, he’ll go through puberty then at the normal speed.”

Wow. Then again, I guess I’m going to have a thirteen year old for at least another three years, maybe longer. But Owen is looking forward to his birthday so I’ll be having a fourteen year old thirteen year old soon. And one that often acts more like eight when there’s no one looking. So I guess I can’t judge.

“So has he changed at all in all that time?”

“Physically not a bit. Intellectually yes. Emotionally, yes but not as much. Jayden is very keen for everyone to know that he is not really eight. I sometimes wish he could just play with other eight year olds…” I raised a metaphorical eyebrow at this, “…but their mums know he’s really fifteen so aren’t comfortable with it. And other fifteen year olds, well they don’t want to play with an eight year old, so he is lonely.”

I started to tear up. “Oh my. That’s so sad.”

“I think that’s why he tries hard to act as grown up as he can. He’s currently obsessed with mushrooms. No idea where that came from…but he’s read up on them and likes to drag me out trying to find and photograph rare fungi. I think it’s just because he thinks an eight year old wouldn’t do that. But then, you know, his bedroom is practically themed to Paw Patrol. And that was his idea. I let him choose. And of course he has never shown any interest in girls yet. He knows he’s supposed to, and sometime pretends. But it’s the Puericil, you see. His hormones have never kicked it.”

“My goodness. Thank you for sharing. My Owen has been having a rough time. He’s about to start Sandgrove. It’s a Puericil school.”

“Yes, Jayden goes there.”

“Oh, of course. Do you mind if I ask, what year is he in?”

“You mean is he in year 4 or year 11?” she chuckled, “well, neither. It doesn’t work like that there. They are grouped according to emotional maturity, not age. One of three groups, following testing, although you can move up later. Jayden is in the lowest group, despite being one of the brightest boys.”

“Oh, I was never told that.”

“It doesn’t mean he is naughty, you understand. He’s very gentle. It’s just he is still a little boy, however many types of fungus he can name. And he will, you know!” She rolled her eyes theatrically.

“I really, have no idea where Owen would be, “ I said, thinking aloud more than anything else, “not the lowest I would have thought, he was thirteen before he started on Puericil after all. Probably not the top group either.” I sighed.

“Well, that’s good. If he isn’t ready for the top group, you know you did the right thing.”

I supposed so.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

We finished up our coffee and headed back to the community center where I found Judith waiting in the foyer and joined her. I realised I was a few minutes late so was relieved to find her still waiting there. There was nobody else there however, except the security guard on reception who promptly came around from behind his desk bringing a small blond boy with him.

“Mummy!”

“Oh, sorry I’m late Jayden. I lost all track of time my angel.”

“I made a new friend!”

“Gosh, did you?” Rebecca was talking to him like he was eight, although he didn’t seem to mind.

“I did! His name is Owen. He’s nice.”

My Owen! Time to feel proud/smug!

“Really? This is Owen’s Mummy!” Rebecca said, pointing to me.

“Very nice to meet you, Jayden.”

Not long after that Rebecca and Jayden left, leaving me and Judith alone.

“All the other boys have gone,” she told me, “where on earth are they? If they are not out soon, I’m going to have to go in.”

“I’ll come with you.”

At that point the door crashed open with a bang that made me shriek! I turned around to find Jamie, hands on knees shouting at us about Owen being in trouble with some man! I’ve never run so fast in my life. Jamie’s words—“some man’s got Owen!”—hit me like a stab to the chest, and then Judith and I were bolting through the community center doors, heels skidding on wet pavement. The security man overtook us and by the time we got there the first thing I saw was Owen sprawled in the grass, his face pale, his knees drawn up like a little boy who’d fallen off his bike. The man was already back in his van an it began to reverse. For one horrifying second I thought—no, I knew—it was going to reverse right over Owen! My scream lodged in my throat, useless.

Then Judith was shouting, the security guard was lumbering into the road, and the van roared off. I reached Owen just as he pushed himself up, his hands trembling. His shirt was grass-stained, his hair wild, and when I grabbed his shoulders, his whole body was rigid.

“Are you hurt? Look at me!” My thumbs brushed his cheekbones, tilting his face up. His pupils were huge, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He kept saying he was fine, but his voice was thin, wavering. The security guard was asking questions, Judith was fussing over Jamie, and all I could think was what if we’d been five seconds slower? What if that man had dragged him into the van? My fingers dug into Owen’s sleeves, as if he might dissolve if I let go.

Later, in the car, we both drove home in silence. I think we were both shaken. Owen sat stiffly in the passenger seat, his arms crossed, his jaw set. He didn’t speak a word until we turned onto our street. “You’re not even proud of me?” he muttered.

I pulled into my space, applied the break, turned off the ignition and patiently turned to Owen. “As a matter of fact, I was very proud of you today. Right before I discovered that you had left the building on your own and some scumbag of a man had his hands on you. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Just about helping the dog.”

He was starting to get teary and I was too exhausted to be a disciplinarian over this. “Why did you go outside in the first place?”

“Because Jamie told me that’s where you were meeting us!”

“But I told you to meet me in the foyer, Owen. Why would you listen to Jamie and not me?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think.”

“Can’t you see how dangerous it is, to go out without someone to look after you?”

“Look, I’m not helpless, I rescued that dog!”

“I’m sure that was very brave. It was also really stupid. I suppose that was Jamie’s idea too?”

“No, that was all my idea. And please don’t tell Jamie’s Mum it was his idea to go outside. She’ll hit him!”

“What? Spank him you mean?”

“With a wooden bat thing, though!”

“Oh I see. You probably mean a paddle. Well that is still a spanking, Owen, and you can hardly say he doesn’t deserve it.”

“He doesn’t as far as I’m concerned! And you don’t understand, she spanks him really hard. I don’t want to get him into trouble. After all, he saved me.”

If you talk to a thirteen year old for long enough, even if they are not on Puericil, they eventually confuse you to the point where you start to believe they are making sense. Perhaps it was because I was very tired at this point having had a day at work and cooked a meal before even taking Owen to dance class. So I wouldn’t say I gave up, but I decided that I wanted to cuddle Owen more than I wanted to punish him at this point. After a pregnant pause I released him from the dock.

“OK Superboy, out of the car. Let’s go in and I’ll make us a hot chocolate.”

So in we went, Owen side-eyeing me as though he though it was either a trick or I’d gone mad, but I did make the hot chocolate and we drank it together watching an old episode of Friends to calm our nerves before I put him to bed.

Owen’s Journal

I don’t get why I didn’t get spanked. But I’m not complaining at all! Mum was clearly cross but she just talked to me and then, well, that was that! No punishment. We watched TV for a bit. I made sure to not complain when it was bedtime (can’t push your luck). I was worried about Jamie, but then as I was coming out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth I noticed that my phone was ringing. Mum doesn’t like me having it in my room at night anymore, but I normally give it to her at the last moment. And in this case Jamie was calling at that moment!

“Hey.” I said in a hushed voice, “ why don’t you just Whatsapp?”

“Does your mum read your messages?”

“Yeah.”

“Same. That’s why I’m calling. Now shhh! Mummy’s in the bathroom. I’m just calling to warn you that I told Mummy that it was your idea to go outside. I’m really sorry but I wouldn’t have been able to sit down for the rest of the week otherwise. If she asks, please back me up. I’ll owe you one?”

“Well, sure, but she’s not going to ask me, is she? She’ll ask my Mum, and I’ve already told my Mum that it was your idea.”

“Shit. Oh balls, here she comes, never mind, just if you are asked, don’t forget. Gotta go!”

And with that he disconnected. Oh, I’m fine Jamie, thanks for asking! That kid goes from angel to nightmare and back several times a day! I was pleased to hear he had dodged the paddle though. Thinking about it actually made me grin.

That was pretty much it for the day, other than a last minute visit to my room from Amy after Mum had already kissed me goodnight.

“Are you OK, Owen?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“It was very silly what you did. Personally, I think you deserve a smacked bottom! Mum and I were really scared.”

“You weren’t even there!”

“No, but I was scared when Mum told me later.”

“What’s the point in being scared when you already knew I was OK?”

“Oh, Owen…stupid boys! Just make sure there is someone to look after you next time. Please?”

God I hated it when Mum or Amy said patronising things like that. But seeing the pleading look in her eyes, I gave up arguing. “Yes, OK.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She kissed me goodnight and left me alone cuddling Bumpy with a lot of thoughts to process from the day. Although, in fact, I just fell asleep straight away.

***

I woke up early, before everyone else as usual. You know, I hate having a bedtime again. Even more because it is before Amy goes to bed. But the funny thing is, I just wake up early and probably get the same amount of sleep, so what is the point in that? Adults don’t think things through.

I must admit, that I do quite like quiet time in the mornings. I try to avoid waking Mum or Amy, just so I can relax and do whatever I want. Sometimes I raid the kitchen, sometimes watch cartoons in the living room alone. Today I stayed in bed. I woke up with a stiffy, so really it was the obvious choice. Fortunately my pull up was dry, and as long as it is, Mum trusts me to take it off myself. Sometimes if I get a morning stiffy I get rid of it quickly (the fun way of course) but this time I played with it slowly for as long as I could. Thinking mainly of Louisa. The sun shining on her hair. That glimpse of white underwear I got up her skirt! For some reason, Jamie pirouetting in his little shorts came into my head at one point, but it didn’t put me off. After I was done I fell back asleep only to be woken by Mum, feeling groggy and tired when I’d been perfectly fine earlier! How’s that work?

I spent the day at Grandma’s but for the last time. It’s Saturday tomorrow and I’m starting my new school on Monday. I’m actually very excited to start now. I’m thinking, Puericil boys are mostly nicer that normal ones and even if any do turn out to be dicks, I can’t see myself being too intimidated by a Puericil boy. I’ve always stood up for myself. Jamie will be there of course, in fact we’re picking him up on the way and then his Mum will take me back to his house with him afterwards until my Mum finishes work and can pick me up. I think as well, Puericil school will probably be easier. Adults tend to treat us Puericil boys like we are still little boys which is annoying but there are some upsides and surely the work will be pretty easy!

In the evening, Mum wanted me to try on my new uniform. I made a little crack about how “it’s a bit late now if it doesn’t fit, isn’t it?” or something like that, and it didn’t go down well at all! I forgot my own morning “note to self” that I needed to be as quiet as possible today since I was surely on thin ice after yesterday. She grumpily pointed out that since I was only accepted at the school a week ago, she had got the uniform as soon as she could and she bought everything in two sizes and will send back whichever doesn’t fit!

Alright! Jeezz! (obviously that was internal). It seems the uniform was expensive as well, which isn’t my fault. Mum sent Amy up with me to help. Now, I very much hate being treated like a baby as you know, and Puericil has not stopped me being able to dress myself perfectly well. Apparently she wanted Amy to check everything fit and I wasn’t in a position to argue today. Pick your battles and all that. Of course, I’m kind of used to Amy seeing me nude now and It doesn’t make me blush like it used to, but there is something about being ordered about by your sister while naked (“Put this on, take that off, try that one…”) that feels very humiliating. I had no choice but to do as I was told and tried to put a brave face on it by asking her about her day like this was all perfectly fine and normal, but she was concentrating too much on straightening my tie or pulling my socks up and didn’t really listen.

She stepped back, tapping her chin like Mum does when she's assessing something. "Okay, now try the jacket," she said, holding it out.

Yeah, I had to wear a shirt and tie and my old school but now unfortunately, I have a posh jacket - like a blazer to wear as well. I took it, suddenly hyper-aware of how ridiculous I must look, standing there in my buttoned up shirt, tie neatly done, but bare from the waist down except for these stupid socks that are almost knee high.

"Just put it on, Owen," Amy sighed, rolling her eyes. "We haven't got all night, Mum's waiting."

My face warmed as I shrugged into the jacket. The lining felt cool and it was surprisingly comfortable, but a glimpse of my reflection in Amy's bedroom mirror showed my how ridiculous I looked. Amy circled me, her fingers adjusting the collar, smoothing the shoulders. "Walk," she commanded. "I want to see how it fits when you move around."

I began to walk awkwardly up and down the room, waiting for Amy's judgement. The socks kept slipping down, and I kept stopping to hitch them up without thinking.

"Well the jacket looks very smart, but maybe you need smaller socks."

I just stood waiting to be told what to do next and hoping that the ordeal would soon be over.

Amy then tossed me a pair of folded white briefs with a smirk. I unfolded them. They were starched stiff, with the school crest embroidered right over the crotch in navy thread.

"Are you joking?" I held them up like they were radioactive. "Since when do schools have school underwear?"

She grinned, that infuriating little sister grin that always meant trouble. "Well, for starters, you naughty boys often need your bottoms smacked." She patted the bed beside her like I was a dog. "And it wouldn’t do to not have smart ones on in case you have to take your shorts down in school."

My face burned. "It's…it's not a thing!"

"It is at your new school, posh boy! Now try them on!"

I did as she asked. They fit fine but looked dumb. "These feel ridiculous."

"They’re just pants. Stop whining and put your shorts on." She tossed the grey shorts at me—neatly pressed, with a crisp pleat down the front. They were shorter than I'd normally wear and pretty tight fitting, but the material was comfortable. At least they weren't as bad as the dance shorts! I buttoned them up, adjusted the waistband, and caught my reflection again. The shorts hugged my thighs, stopping just above the knee, and paired with the blazer, I did look like some posh kid from a boarding school brochure.

Amy clapped her hands. "Perfect! Mum’s going to love it." She grabbed my wrist before I could protest. "Come on, let’s show her."

Downstairs, Mum was at the kitchen table with her laptop, but she looked up the second we shuffled in. Her face lit up with actual pride, like I’d just won a scholarship or something. "Oh, Owen! You look wonderful." She stood, brushing her hands down my blazer sleeves, straightening my tie again even though Amy had already done it. "So smart. So grown-up."

I frowned. "Wait, you want me to look grown-up now?" The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Mum didn’t even blink at my sarcasm. She just pulled me into one of those tight hugs where I could feel her heartbeat through my blazer. "You’re my clever boy," she murmured into my hair. The hug was kind of nice. Then she patted my back and stepped away, all business. "Now take this off carefully, Owen. I want it hung up properly for Monday."

Amy’s fingers were already at my buttons before I could react, undoing the blazer.

"Amy! Not here!"

"Why not Owen? Oh, alright, let's go back upstairs then."

"Get him ready for bed when you’re done, Amy."

"Shall I put his pull-up on?"

"And pyjamas, yes please, Amy."

"Why do you want to put my pull up on?" I asked cheekily. Jokes are my only weapon these days, but I smiled as I said it.

"On you, as you well know you little Gremlin."

So off we went for me to be subjected to another humiliating indignity. Maybe I can stay over at school? I heard they had dormitories for the weekday as some parents live a long way away. That way, I could get away from Amy for a while!

(End of File)