William Poulet lost a bet and has to accept the very first teaching job he's offered. Now he's teaching at a Military Academy he'd never applied to, in a State where gay porn is a popular download yet it's still anti-LGBT+. One night a friend of a f...
When Will stopped by his cottage to get changed, two things delayed him. The first was a wolf-whistle that came from next door neighbor Grant Carlson, who shouted from what was, most likely, his shower window: "I expect a full report, with lurid details!"
The second was an envelope and a package left in front of his door. The envelope contained a card which said, simply: Saturday morning, 12:00 a.m. Gymnasium. New Members Initiation. Be shaved and properly attired. The Barber will be available Friday from 12 noon through 8 p.m. in General Headmaster Lee's office. Anyone in violation of these rules will be severely dealt with. It was expensive stock in cream-colored ivory. At the bottom were embossed the words 'Seeds of Priapus – Southeast America Division."
Will had been hoping to spend Saturday with Derek, circumstances permitting. And if it turned out that finger belonged to Matt Stone, his entire week was going to be very, very busy. A quiet weekend with Derek would be a welcome end. It wasn't that he wasn't intrigued by the fantasies that the initiation created in his imagination, but that these were students. Of legal age, admittedly, but still young men who needed to respect and see their teachers as authority figures. Your typical authority figures, not those with leather legs-only chaps and a latex toy in one hand.
Which made him re-examine his hot and steamy relationship with Huck. Unlike his desire for Derek, he thought Huck saw him as a numero uno fuck buddy, but not as someone to build a life with. He'd all but proclaimed their relationship in class. And Huck might just be the most powerful person in Boxton Academy, above even Headmaster Lee: he was the Avatar of Priapus.
Which got Will to thinking: just how does one become the Avatar? Is it by vote, by trial, or is there some sort of sign? He didn't have time to open the box – in fact, he barely had enough time to dress! Derek had left at the crack of dawn, and Jerry had dished out a sausage casserole made with hash browns, cheddar cheese, eggs, onions and peppers.
Summer wasn't through with Mississippi yet, and the temperature was already in the mid-80s. Will, in spite of his nerves, felt a bit daring today and wore a white linen jacket, an electric robin's egg blue shirt paired with tan khakis and a pair of cowboy ankle boots. He planned on commanding attention today, and if he looked hot, he figured that for these cadets that involved looking good.
Heads certainly did turn. Word of young Cadet Lee's comeuppance had spread overnight, and he could sense a different atmosphere as he walked through the throngs of young men on their way to class. He caught up with Carter, Tanner and Grant as they entered the teacher's staircase.
"Well, if it isn't Iron Will! Out on the town last night, were you?" Tanner gave him a lewd smirk.
"Damn, is there no privacy at all around here?" Will said, giving Carter a steely glare.
"Not if you show up at 6 a.m. wearing the same clothes you had on the day before!" laughed Grant.
"This is our floor. Tell us all about it at lunchtime, okay?" said Carter. He smiled, a genuine and unassuming one that suggested he truly was interested. No ribbing involved.
"Assuming I survive this second day, you're on." Will continued on to the fourth floor. He acknowledged Mr. Benischek, the Mathematics teacher, and also Mr. Hinkler, the German teacher – both of whose classrooms were on his floor. Walking into the room, he looked at the clock – 8:45 am, so he had a good 5 minutes to get things organized.
The Tuesday/Thursday classes were one and a half hours long, so he had more time to get to know these students. It was no coincidence that he would see the Freshman first, followed by the Sophomores, the Juniors and ending with the Seniors. The freshmen provided his greatest challenge, as there were just enough years between his age and theirs to make them a different generation entirely.
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He'd chosen several books from the approved list that Headmaster Lee had foisted upon him. One was "Bulfinch's Mythology." Another was an illustrated edition of Mary Renault's "The Persian Boy" – which was quite graphic, by an artist commissioned by Boxton Academy. There was an interesting edition of Romeo & Juliet, also illustrated by that same artist, with a heavy emphasis on scenes of Romeo and his friends Horatio and Mercutio acting out a coupling of the two lovers. And finally, "Lord of the Flies" with staged PG photographs.
The Freshman filed in, eager and wanting to please. Will could tell that there were already friendships forming – and thankfully, just friendships. He was unsurprised that the hands-down winner for first book to read was Bulfinch's Mythology. None of them ogled him, which was honestly a relief. It was only as they were filing out at 10:30 that Will overheard one whisper, "He doesn't seem so tough! How'd he get the Iron Will nickname?"
To which the other frosh said, "His dick, nerdbrain!"
"Good afternoon, Sophomore Cadets," said Will, trying to sound the way he thought someone nicknamed 'Iron Will' would sound.
"Good afternoon, Mister Poulet, Sir!" they all replied. One of them, obviously a young member of the weightlifting team, as evidenced by a chest that was trying desperately to break out of its blazered confines, cleared his throat. He stepped forward.
"S... S...Sophomore Cadet Victor Tennyson. Sir, I wish to convey an apology to you from the sophomores at Boxton Military Academy."
Will was grateful that he hadn't sat down. "Continue, Cadet Tennyson."
"Yesterday, Cadet Lee..."
"Stop right there, cadet. Senior Cadet Finnegan assured me that his punishment will be administered by you all, his fellow sophomores. That's good enough for me."
"Yes sir, Mister Poulet, Sir! But Jeb has asked if you would attend. It's to be tonight, at midnight. On the football field. What d'ya want to tell him? Sir?"
Will had a dreadful sense of foreboding. On the one hand, seeing the little bastard get his comeuppance would be deeply satisfying. On the other hand, if he knew Huck, the punishment would involve something physical, and these were 16-year-olds. And that was unacceptable, not to mention illegal.
