The Lesson

by John Concilio

``What are you in for, kid?''

``Skipped school.''

``Skipped school, sir! Remember that. Okay now, strip so you can take a shower. How old are you?''

``Thirteen ... sir.''

``That's better. Hurry up now ... get out of those clothes and hand them over to me ... all except your shoes. I'll bring you a pair of coveralls although it's almost bed time so you'll be taking them off again. Do you have any lice or crabs?''

``No ... no lice ... sir. I dunno what ...''

``No matter ... you don't have any hair there, I see, so you wouldn't have crabs. Get under the shower now. I'll be back in a few minutes with a towel and the overalls.''

Johnny moved under one of the shower heads and turned one of the knobs. He jumped back quickly, a silent scream formed on his mouth ... it was ice cold. After a few adjustments, he stepped under the water. Seeing a piece of soap on the floor, he picked it up and started to soap himself up. Crabs, he thought ... what were they, he wondered. He knew about crabs around water. The man had looked down at him when he said he didn't have any hair so he must have meant around his dick. Still ... crabs there?

``You have a cute little ass there, kid. You'd better not drop any soap when you are showering with the other kids.''

``Yes, sir ... I mean, no sir, I won't''

The man smiled, almost nicely, Johnny thought. He turned his back to him, embarrassed that he was watching him, naked as he was. Never in his life was he more frightened that he was now. He thought back to earlier in the day. He had been in the back yard of his home, playing hooky from school, as he so often did, when Mr. Vos, the school principal, suddenly was there. He had lied to Mr. Vos, telling him he was going to go to a catholic school. The principal had smiled and asked him to step in his car ... he wanted to talk to him. No sooner were they both in the car when Mr. Vos was driving him to school. Once there, he sat him in his office for the rest of the afternoon, then took him to a restaurant where they had dinner and then to the detention home.

``Come on kid, come on ... I don't have all night!''

Johnny quickly turned off the shower and thanked the man when he handed him a towel, remembering the ``sir.'' After slipping on the overalls, he stepped into his shoes and followed the man down a long hallway.

``This is your dorm, kid. I'll turn you over to the night guard and he'll assign you to a bed. Everyone is already in bed, as you can see.'' Johnny nodded and followed him into a small office. ``Hi Joe ... this is the kid I called you on. He's all yours. See you in the morning ... hope we don't get anymore tonight.''

``Okay, Steve. How much longer before we get off graveyard, do you think?''

Steve shrugs. ``Two weeks yet, unfortunately.'' He gave Johnny a glance, then walked out of the office.''

``Name, kid.''

``Johnny Apone ... sir.''

``German, huh,'' Joe said, grinning.

``No sir ... Italian.''

``I never would have guessed. Let's see what we have her now ... row one ... nothing. Two ... yeah, 27 ... bed 27 is not being used. Look out the window there, Johnny ... to the right is the first row up against the wall ... then the second row ... walk down the center aisle and you'll find number 27 ... they are in front of the beds on the floor. You can't miss it. Wake up call is at seven so get a good night's sleep. Good night, kid.''

Johnny walked out of the room and slowly down the aisle, looking at the numbers which were easy enough to see. The light shining out from the guards office illuminated a good half of the room. He was just approaching bed 20 when the kid lying on it waved. ``Hey ... 19 is empty,'' he said in a half whisper. `` You can have it.''

Johnny forced a smile. ``Can't ... he told me 27.''

``That's next to Tim Leary. He's a big guy. Watch out for him.''

``Thanks,'' Johnny said, so quietly, the kid couldn't have heard him. When he reached 27, he glanced at the boys in 26 and 28. He knew right away that Leary had to be the one in 26. He was lying on top of the covers and from the dim light at this distance from the office, he looked like a full grown man, Johnny thought. He edged in between the two beds and sat down, startled to see Leary's eyes opened and looking at him.

``Hi,'' Johnny whispered.

``What's your name, kid?''

``Johnny Apone.''

``Johnny, huh ... not John?''

Johnny shrugged. ``Everyone calls me that. Are you Tim Leary?''

``How did you know?''

Johnny slipped out of his shoes. ``Kid down there told me. Are we suppose to sleep naked?''

``Don't have to. Didn't they give you no underwear?''

``No ... just these coveralls. Your ...''

``Naked ... by choice. Always have. What are you, 12 ... 13?''

``Thirteen. You look old.''

``Seventeen is old? I think I like you. You're lucky. Do you like to mess around? Have you ever?''

``Mess around? I don't know ... depends.''

``See over there. What do you think those guys are doing? They certainly don't share the same bed.''

Johnny looked in the various directions Tim had pointed out. There were two boys on each of the beds, he could see. They were moving around. He stared, squinting, trying to make out what they were doing. He turned back to Tim. ``What are they doing? I can't tell ... I mean it looks like they are wrestling or something.''

``Or something, all right. The ones on top are giving head ... the ones on the bottom are getting it. Get it now?''

Johnny looked again, then shook his head. ``No ... head? I don't know what that is.''

Leary chuckled. ``I guessed as much. Tell me kid ... Johnny, have you ever had sex ... any kind, jerking off or whatever?''

Johnny just looked at Tim, mouth open. How dumb he was, he thought. This Tim will never want to be his friend. ``I'm sorry, no.''

``Not even jerk off?'' Tim asked, amused.

Johnny shook his head. ``What is jerk off?''

``This,'' Tim said as he took his limp dick in his hand and went through the motions. ``Of course it's hard when you do it. After a little while, pop ... and you really feel good. Didn't your old man ever tell you, brothers or friends?''

Johnny shrugged. ``No, never ... nobody.''

``Well you probably won't have to start doing it here. Get yourself a good head job instead ... it's a lot better. That's what's happening on those beds. A lot of kids her like to do it and you don't have to do anything ... just lie back and enjoy it. One finished me of just a minute or so before you got here.'' He noted the blank look on Johnny's face. ``Oh yeah, you don't know what head is. They take your pecker in their mouth, Johnny ... suck you off, you know.''

Johnny crinkled his nose in disgust. ``In their mouth?!'' He looked back of the beds where is action was going on, leaned forward and stared. Finally, he was able to make it out. He turned back to Tim, making a face again. ``How could they do that?''

``They enjoy it, kid, so don't knock it. You've heard the old bit about different strokes for different folks ...'' He chuckled. Of course you haven't or if you had you wouldn't know what the hell it meant. Look, I'll have one of the kids come and give you a sample. If you don't like it, just tell him to stop and no hard feelings. Are you game?''

``Not tonight, Tim ... I'm kinda tired. Maybe ...''

``Some other night ... no problem, kid. What are you in for, by the way?''

``Skipping school.''

``Shit, just for that? They got me for breaking and entering ... my third rap so I'm in until I am eighteen ... six more months.''

``What's breaking and entering, Tim?''

Tim sighed. ``You are cherry. I would break into homes ... you know, go through the window ... steal stuff.''

Johnny nodded and started to pull off his overalls. He was very sleepy. As he was starting to lie down, he glanced to Tim. ``I'm glad you're in the bed next to mine. I ... I ... like you.''

``Thanks kid ... but don't rush things. We haven't known each other more than twenty minutes yet.'' Even in the semi-darkness, he could see the flush coming to Johnny's face. He grinned. He liked the kid already, he knew. Some of his best friends when he was a kid were Italian. ``Italian, aren't you Johnny?''

Johnny was just getting under the thin blanket. ``Yeah, how'd you know?''

``You look it ... besides your name.''

``The guy back there, Joe, he thought I was German.''

``He was probably just pulling your leg, Johnny. Joe's a nice guy.''

Johnny propped up his pillow and faced Tim. ``He didn't do that. He didn't pull my leg, honest. He just asked me was I German.''

Tim sighed deeply, then reached down and scratched his nuts. ``Johnny, Johnny, Johnny ... you are so damn naive or maybe just du... just unwise. I didn't mean the guy was actually pulling your leg but that he was only kidding you about being German. Now do you ...''

``Psst, psst ... Tim ... do you wanna?'' A boy was on his knees on the other side of Tim's bed. Tim turned around, annoyed.

``I already have ... about a half hour ago. Tomorrow night.''

``But is was suppose to be my turn tonight! You promised!'' Johnny could see the look of chagrin on the boy's face.

Tim turned back to Johnny for a moment. Maybe if he could see it close up. Getting it up and off again would be no problem, he knew. He turned back to the boy who was waiting, obviously in eager anticipation. ``Okay, Tommy ... chow down.'' The boy sprang up.

Johnny stared, enthralled. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought such a thing could happen. He raised his eyes to Tim's face for a moment. Tim's eyes were closed tightly and his mouth opened. In about a minute, he was raising his rear up, slowly at first, then at a quicker pace. In another minute, Tim's hand jerked down over the boy's head and he appeared to be gasping for breath.

``Okay Tommmy, okay ... enough now.'' Tommy pretended not to hear. Tim sat up and put a hand on either side of Tommy's head, raising it up, gently. Then he turned to Johnny. ``Well Johnny, how about it? Think you are ready? You'll like it, I'm sure.''

Tommy looked at Johnny, a half grin on his face. ``You're a new guy here, huh? I got first dibs on you if you want. Tim and I will make sure no one else bothers you.''

Johnny smiled sheepishly. He had been aroused for sure, watching it, and his curiosity about how it would feel was almost overwhelming. ``Thanks but ... but like I told Tim, I'm really tired tonight. Tomorrow night ... maybe.'' Tommy gave him a smile and a wink and squeezed Tim's thigh, then crept away. He looked up at Tim, embarrassed, feeling that Tim would be mad at him for not letting Tommy do it.

``Don't worry about it, kid. Tomorrow night or whenever you feel you want to try it out, is okay.''

``How come you were breathing so hard ... like you were tired?''

``That always happens when you pop, Johnny.'' He saw the puzzled look and thought God, how could some 13 year olds be so innocent ... so inexperienced. Tommy was 14 and a pro. ``What I mean Johnny is that when someone gives you head like that, after a minute or two it feels so good, you pop ... some stuff comes out ... sperm, it's called. It's the stuff that makes babies when you get married. Christ, you did say you had brothers, a father, didn't you?'' Johnny nodded. ``Older than you ... your brothers?''

``I got three, all older ... lots. My father is from the old country, you know ... kind of old fashioned.''

``But your brothers aren't. They should have told you ... taught you all this stuff. If I had a kid brother, I sure would. I don't know how long you're going to be in here, kid, but even if it's only two weeks, you'll be a lot smarter about the facts of life when you get out ... well, it wouldn't take much to be a lot smarter since you'll be starting from zero.''

``That stuff that comes out, you said ... he ate it?''

``Swallowed it, you mean.'' Tim shrugged. Doesn't hurt them, I suppose. Makes them crap easy, I hear.'' He chuckled.

Three weeks to the day later, Vos, the principal, came for Johnny and he was released. As they were walking out of the building he turned to Johnny and said, ``Well, have you learned your lesson, Johnny?''

Johnny looked up at him and smiled. ``I sure have, sir ... I sure have.''


Author Biography:

John Concilio is a California writer whose work has appeared in other issues of SOTT. Currently working on a novel, he says ``When my mind blanks out, I put it away and try out short stories again. I worked over seas for quite a few years so I usually have a lot of material for short stories.''

For more stories by John Concilio, click here.


This story first appeared in the Volume 4, Number 1 (Winter 1988-89) issue of
Sign of the Times-A Chronicle of Decadence in the Atomic Age

For a copy of the issue that this story appeared in please use the on-line order form or email sott_backissue@unclemarkie.com and ask for Volume 4, Number 1.
The cost is $5.00, plus $2.00 shipping and handling for each order.

Return to top of story Return to SOTT Home Page
Move onto other stories in this issue Move onto other stories in this volume

©1981-1998 Studio 403. All rights reserved.
For reproduction or retransmission rights, please email sott_rights@unclemarkie.com.