1886 Home for Orphan Boys
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Author: Anon
This history is private. It is not for children under 18 and heretofore
has not been revealed to anyone of any age, but now all will all be told.
But the telling will not proceed until all tikes of less than 18 years or
less are gone from this page, and succeeding pages.
[edit] 1
In 1880 I was the Vicar of a small hamlet near Berwick-upon-Leeds. I was only 22, just out of divinity school when I took the post. I must confess with some chagrin that I was a miserable failure at that pursuit of godliness and goodness. My sermons became tepid and unconvincing and by the end of 1885 the elders of the parish asked the Bishop to transfer me.
My interview with Bishop Lord Wemberly lasted over a fortnight and by the end of this exhaustive period the Bishops suggested that I was more suited for a different calling within the church. He explained that there was a need for a new Home for Orphan Boys in Berwick-upon-Leeds and I was perfect to organize and command such a position.
I agreed, mostly because I had no other recourse. Shortly afterward I was installed in a stone cottage overlooking the wild seacoast of that area. I proceeded to procure local workman to construct a wooden house, large enough to house about sixteen boys. There needed to be space for my office, a small gymnasium, communal showers, a dinning hall, and a dormitory.
With the fierce winter coming on within three months, the men worked hard to finish the outside of the structure and complete the interior even after the heavy snows began to accumulate.
At last, six months after beginning the project, the Bishop, the Lord Mayor and other dignitaries gathered in the largest room of the house, which was the dinning hall. The house was blessed and I was urged to save the souls and bodies of the poor unfortunate youths who will shortly inhabit this house.
Within another month, lads arrived, straight from jail, or having been picked up in a round up that day. I had hired a male nurse, two gardeners and a cook. We were ready for them.
The newly arrived boys stood shivering in the chilly foyer, their rags insufficient for the weather. They were dirty. Their hair long and matted and most had poor imitations of footwear being hardly more than rags.
I apologize for failing to introduce myself so far into this narrative but I think my name must remains secret, considering the events that occurred in this alms house in spite of my best efforts and good intentions that became diluted by other matters, as you will shortly learn. I will suggest you refer to me as Dexter.
I fetched George, my young assistant and nurse. George was a comely fellow of about my age. His most outstanding feature was his small stature. Later, he would often be taken to by one of the residents, by new fellows. He would shortly be popular with the boys as he was a humorous fellow and very loving to all. "The first order of business should be to feed these starving lambs, but I cannot allow them to bring lice and other dirt into our pristine quarters."
"I quite agree," said George. A good washing with lye soap and hot water will do it and then straight ways we will dress them in our newly acquired store of night shirts and then," he turned toward the sullen, boys, who stood there swaying with fatigue and hunger, their head drooping. "We shall fill their bellies with hot grub."
There was a faint cheer from the hapless lads.
Now to digress a moment I wish to agree that our Boy's Refuge was contemporaneous with Dickens famous poorhouse. You all know the story of poor Oliver Twist requesting a second helping of porridge and the dire results. Well our Home for Boys was a world away from that London horror. Our intention was to bring comfort to these neglected boys, some, education and fear of God and finally some training in a trade that might offer them a way to make their lives meaningful and prosperous.
George led, whilst I brought up the rear, marching the boys to the far end of the building where the shower room was located. Being behind them, the full strength of their putrid, boyish, unwashed odor assailed me. Still I could not held admiring their slim, sapling-like bodies and I particularly became misty seeing the back of their young. almost frail necks. Once inside the room, George turned on the spigots of the eight shower heads to allow them to bring hot water from the heaters. Meanwhile the boys stood, not sure what to do, in front of the benches lining one side of the room. George called out, "Now boys, right smartly, no delay, do you hear, we don't want you to get a chill, take off your garments and pile them in the corner near the door."
The there were no movements to undress. They looked at each other in perplexity. They were not used to exposing their nakedness to others, in fact, rarely to themselves. Mirrors were hardly a fixture in their hovels. Nevertheless, one or two brave lads shrugged the soiled rags off their shoulders, allowing them to droop over their ragged trousers. Then they shook their feet and the makeshift shoes fell away, exposing their young feet. There those few stood naked, their cupped hands in front of their privates, their faces bright red with embarrassment mixed with the pride of bravery.
In a moment, all the others followed suit. Soon the room contained a line of sixteen nude young male figures. They were silent, still awed by the sight of their naked fellows and their own naked selves.
I stood transfixed at the charming sight of the saplings, ribs showing, tiny arses clinched. Some boys had a slight bit of hair on their chests and lower legs, but most were hairless. I called out, with authority, "There is soap in the dishes, two of you to a shower head. You may share the soap, but don't waste it. Now...come...go!"
They seemed to shake off their trance and crossed the space to the showers and allowed the warm water to cascade over their bodies. George walked up and down instructing them the use the soap. Dark tan water flowed in rivulets into as dirt washed off their young bodies. George carried a long handled brush and made the youngster lift their feet for a further cleansing. When they lifted their legs they exposed their ball sacs. Some were surprisingly developed. After all some of the lads were seventeen, but most had the small tight scrota of early adolescence. I noted that their hard life had, in some, produced the beginning of fine musculature. The pleasure of the warm water and the delight in getting clean returned the children to an earlier age. They became giddy at the fun and there were broad smiles and laughing. They seemed to quickly lose their shyness as they jumped about, penises flopping.
George called out, "Lads, fun is over. There are towels at the end of the bench. Each of you shares a towel. I watched them dry off, a bit dismayed that the towels came away with quite a bit of soil that the showering hadn't removed. Still they looked clean and pink to the eye. The cool airs from the other rooms washed into the shower room and soon the boys were shivering and producing chicken flesh. "There are night shirts and slippers waiting. I have warmed the night shirts so they should feel nice to you."
In a moment they rushed to don the garments, smiling at the warm feeling the heavy cotton garments engendered. Young feet into slippers. All lined up as if they were born to behave. This was gratifying. We marched them to the dining hall. Cook had prepared big steaming pots of meat and vegetables. In front of the sixteen places were small bowls. Cook began ladling the stew into the bowls. The boys fairly dripped spit awaiting their turn. The bowls were emptied and sat in front of them. I spoke to them, "This is no poor house boys. If you want a second helping, just lift your bowls." They did for a second helping and yet again for a third. Their ravenousness emptied the contents of the large pots as cleanly as if they were washed.
We led the boys into the lounge where a strong, lively fire was blazing. "Now," I said, "Let me learn your names and a bit about yourselves." I turned to the smallest lad. "I know you are Toby. How old are you?" He told me that he was not sure, that it was between eleven and thirteen. Going around the room and chatting with the boys, I noted that some spoke with changing voices, cracking from soprano to baritone as their responded. Some were already well into their maturity and spoke with mainly voices, sounded incongruous. The room was growing warm. I noted that some of the boy had difficulty in keeping their eyes open, though they tried manfully to do so. Some of the smaller boys had already succumbed to sleep and their heads were resting on the shoulders of the next boy who seemingly paid no attention as they were almost asleep themselves.
George whispered to me, "Time to get the lads to bed." We each helped the sleepy boys to their feet and led them into the sleeping area where a warm stove had brought the room to a pleasant temperature for sleeping. Some of the kids were walking whilst fast asleep and we had to put their hand into a partner's to get them all herded to the dormitory.
There were no separate beds. There was one long table-like affair, long boards placed over sturdy legs. The boards were covered with padding and their were about a dozen blankets to cover the boys when sleeping.
They quickly crawled into the great, long bed, their heads resting on their arms. George and I opened the blankets and spread them over the almost asleep boys. As soon as the toasty warm blankets were tucked around their shoulders, each child sighed and allowed himself to hurl into a deep, longed for sleep.
George and I sat on chairs in the room, waiting to be sure all was well. Within moments, the sweet sound of sleeping lads filled the room. The even breathing soon became soft snores as they enjoyed their rest at last.
I took the first watch, four hours long and George the second. I walked up and down to check the boys during my watch. I was gratified, and I must admit, somewhat sexually stimulated by their winsome faces as they slept, the innocent sleep of babes. I marveled at their eyelashes, lying across their downy cheeks as they fluttered at times...perhaps a dream. They soon began to reach, in their sleep, for each other. A natural seeking of human touch. Some boys ended up with their heads on their neighbors' chest, whilst that child rested his hand on the boy's shoulders, as if he had a Teddy Bear to hold. Other boys snuggled their rear ends into the curve of their sleeping neighbor, pressing their backsides into the middle of the other boys. I was certain that that boy's penis must be pressed into the indentation of the arse cheeks of the other.
Still other boys, I found, were embracing, face to face, their arms about each other, like lovers. All this, I was certain was unconscious.
I checked the coverage of the blankets. Some boys slept with jerky motions and became uncovered during the night, their young legs entirely exposed, sometimes even their genitals. I pulled down their nightshirts and replaced the blankets, noting in some cases they were quite fully erected with heavy sleep induced erections.
I should not have done so, but the warm air in the dormitory and the soft breathing of the boys quite lulled me to sleep. I awoke with a start in the morning with the light streaming through the paned windows and little George shaking me. "Sir, it's time to wake the lads, get them cleaned up and in the dining room for their breakfast."
I roused myself. Then George and I gently awakened each lad. Some thought we were the police shaking them and chasing them from their nighttime hiding places. When they realized where they were, they broken into smiles of gratitude. It was very heart warming. "To the sinks boys. Does anyone not know how to use a tooth brush?" George held a toothbrush high in the air, at least high as he could reach. Several of the boys admitted that they had never seen such a clever little brush. George had taped the name of each boy on the handle and he distributed them. "Now who is handy with the brush?" A tall child came forward.
"I used the toothbrush and powder each morning at the mansion. At least until my mum married the evil Mr. Wilson and he took me deep into the woods and left me there."
He elicited many sighs and sounds of sympathy. Soon he stood up on a raised box and showed the boys how the brush their teeth. In a moment the lavatory was filled with the sounds brushing and spitting. "Show me your teeth," said George, inspecting the gruesome grimaces exposing their teeth. As he walked down the line he stopped twice, "Lad, I can still see the stew from last night. Please try again with more spirit."
I had been watching the whole spectacle. I suddenly realized that they thought this was a one-time cleansing. "You all know that you must do this each night before bed and again each morning. In that way you will retain your teeth into old age. Now boys, you may remove your night clothes and hang them on the pegs provided with your name taped on it."
They were all naked in a jiffy. George eyed their morning penis' fullness with pleasure. "I have a happy surprise for all of you. The local parish has provided clothes and shoes for you to wear while you are living here. They are not fancy or stylish, but they are study and made of thin warm wool."
I brought out the supply of shirts, trousers and slippers. No shoes were provided. The shirts were all in one size that fit the older boys, but required rolled sleeves for the smaller ones, as well as rolled trouser bottoms. Once they were dress and slippered they seemed proud of their new clothes.
George whispered to me that the little savages never even noticed that no under draws were provided. Then he turned to the milling about boys and shouted, "Line up now soldiers, we are off to breakfast."
You may wonder how this community enterprise existed and who bore the cost. In the answer lays an amazing fact: the community paid for the operations, including the food and clothes. The education teachers were retired volunteers. Why would they do this? Because our lads, sweet and innocent as they appeared, were miscreants who had bedeviled the entire area. Yes, these sixteen were now in our care. They were the entire "criminal" population. I would aver that all raids on hen houses, shop lifting, break and enters in houses, petty pick-pocketing and such had ceased with the perpetrators safely and happily resident in our facility. This was not only my opinion, but also that of our local constable, the young and handsome Francis Dickman, as you will learn later.
As the gray line of empty-bellied youngsters entered the dinning area, the smile of kippers and eggs wafted to their delighted noses. Several boys called out, "Eggs, Gor, I haven't had eggs since...." And the cry was completed by another boy, "Since you raided the hen houses off Main Street."
Large platters of the fish and poached eggs were placed on the long table. The boys politely passed the platter along. I was pleased to see this civilized behavior and hoped it was a sign of their becoming gentlemen, but I was to be disappointed, as you will see. Next came long breads, baked in our own ovens, and farm butter. This was a feast that they could only have dreamed of whilst they slept in the cold, just days earlier.
After breakfast, we brought them to the large living room to relax. We had to wait to have the dinning hall cleaned up for the school activities to come. George and I were greeted with several requests, immediately. "Can I be excused to pee?" "I have to shit powerfully." And such. We instructed them that it was not necessary to describe their elimination requirements. Phrases asking to be excused were sufficient. One of the boys, Toby, by name, whom I previously described as perhaps the youngest turned out to be the joker of the lot. "Then sir, it would be amiss to say that I need to be excused to wank, that I have a powerful desire to do."
That produced laugher. The whole wanking subject was very merry to these boys, not treated as a hush-hush matter. One of the other boys said, "Toby, you wanked twice last night."
Gradually the boys, one or two at a time excused themselves for their morning piss or shit. Sometimes two seemed to take too long and George hied himself to the lavatory to check them out. He told me later than he often found one boy sexually satisfying another one. "They are barely civilized humans, if they want a cum, they just ask the other to help. I have caught them wanking each other, or even, I must whisper, using oral means."
In a few minutes, we all heard voices in the anteroom as the teachers arrived. There were two women, gray haired and, I thought, kindly looking. They were recently retired and said to me that they were glad to use their talents to help the poor unfortunate innocents. I was glad they felt that way, but innocents was the wrong word.
They took their places around the table, with much youthful punching of arms and such nonsense until Mrs. Webber and Mrs. Ainsworth called them to order in stern voices. Said Mrs. Webber, "We will tolerate no outbursts. If you have something to add to the lesson, raise your hand. Speak in a cultured, quiet tone, using correct English. Words like ain't and other slang will be corrected."
The first day's lesson was history. They began with the founding of England. I was gratified to see that the boys were in rapt attention as the tale unfolded. It is hard to believe, but this information was heard for the first time in their lives. One kid raised his hand, "Yes young man." He wanted to know if Queen Elizabeth was there then. A few laughed, but I think several wondered the same thing. Mrs. Ainsworth drew a time line on the chalkboard. I think they were amazed at the age of their country.
End of Part One
We will leave our momentarily unrascally students to their lessons. Part Two begins one month later, wherein you will witness several sexual events culminating in an orgy. I may blush as I relate the happenings, but I will faithful report them as befits an honest author.
[edit] 2
One month later, our facility had settled into a routine, set by the first few days as a model. Our boys had changed greatly. First off, the local tonsorial artist had arrived with his two assistants and created new hairdos for the boys. Their hair provided a bale of hair by the time the operation was complete. The result was sixteen young gentlemen with fashionable locks of various shades from blond to black. Mr. Pierre, the artistic barber was cooing with ecstasy as he handled the boy's heads and patted their backs as he and his other girlish assistants proceeded. The lads were not put off by the forward nature of the unmanly hair cutters. Toby remarked to me, in a whisper, "I think I have seen Mr. Pierre, in the park, procuring boys with a one pound offer, several times. He is surely a poofer."
Toby's remark was further amplified by Constable Francis Dickman. That esteemed officer of the law came to visit us this very day. I greeted him in my office. Of course I had seen him several times previously, as he was present in my church. I found myself distracted during my sermon by his face and body in the pews. He was a prepossessing chap, well over six feet tall, strong of chest and when he sat in my office; his trousers were pulled tight over his fine muscular thighs. His face was handsome in an outdoorsman rugged way. His unruly, heavy beard was tamed with careful morning shaving, but the wild thing tried to assert itself during the day, producing a dark shadow that accentuated the fine planes of his chiseled features. His eyes were very dark brown. They swam in a pool of white. Once his eyes fashioned on one, no one might be able to fashion a lie that would not be detected.
Well this paragon of maleness sat a few feet away from me. Francis, unlike most of my countrymen was warm and given to touching the other person to underline his spoken words. So I was becoming dizzy with attention has his large hand would clash my arm, or shoulder, or knee to emphasize his words. "Dexter, you have done a fine job with these devils. You would think, with their fine haircuts and clean bodies, that they were angels, but I warm you, the rotten inside remains."
"I fear you are too harsh. I see great improvements in their speech and manners."
"That may be, but do you see any improvement in their animalistic sexuality?"
"I must say that it remains. Sometimes it seems charming, part of their innocence."
He laughed. "Dear fellow (clutch of thigh, close to my privates) you, yourself are the innocent. I cannot tell you how many times I have routed out these boys, caught in an illegal and immoral position with a townsperson. They willingly earn their bread by offering sexual favors for a pound. In fact, they offer a menu of sexual choices at varying prices."
I became quite agitated at hearing this as it played into my own fantasies that invaded my sleeping hours. Vivid dreams of sexuality.
I returned my attention to handsome Dickman, noted how elegant his lips were, pink and full, exposing perfect white teeth and clean red tongue. I was a bit dizzy. He was saying, "As the song goes 'A policeman's lot is not a happy one.' And often a sexually deprived one. I must admit, only to you, I have availed myself of the soft, practiced mouths of a few of your charges." His eyes became distant, and I could swear his trousers puffed up in the region of his genitals. "They are so good at their craft. I am usually slow to...shall I say boil over, but they bring me to that boil in an in creditably short time. Oh my, look at me; I am quite rigid with excitement. I am almost pressed to ask for one of your lads to relieve my condition. Well, my, you yourself are visibly affected by my words. You are a very comely fellow, I would not refuse attentions from you."
Nothing more needed to be said. He rose to his full height and unbuckled his belt. His trousers, weighed down by the club, handcuffs and other paraphernalia slid quickly in a pool around his ankles. I caught my breath as I saw his hairy, muscular legs and his white drawers pushed out with the force of his manly erection. He smiled at me and nodded his head in encouragement, and then he put a hand on each of my shoulders and pressed to a seated position. Next he spoke in a hoarse voice. "Dexter, do not deny your desire. Pull my drawers down, expose your prize. It's yours to please."
With a choking gasp all my damned up desires exploded and I grasped the edges of his drawers and pulled them down. At once his rampant organ flipped into view, his wild back hair covering his belly and testicles, but not so much as to obscure his large phallus that shook and twitched before me. I was assailed with the spicy odor of his parts and my mouth watered at the sight of his pink cockhead with dewy drops of his essence there. I have a long tongue and I allowed it to extend and licked that dew. The taste was both sweet and narcotic. My mind slipped down into the part of my animalistic brain and I leaned forward and began spirited licking of this head, finally saliva was forming in my mouth and the shaft slipped into my heated mouth. I could hear Francis speaking of approval of my efforts. He was quite transfixed as he murmured words of encouragement and affection. "Oh Dexter, you are a master at this. My mind is whirling. I don't think I can hold off much longer, but do take it deeper into your steaming mouth. I allowed it to enter my mouth until my nose was against his fragrant pubic hair. I sniffed deeply to impress the glorious smell into my memory forever. He was moaning quite loudly now and he pushed the few inches left and his penis head entered my throat. I swallowed several times to accommodate it and that swallowing motions became to trigger for his ejaculation. I felt hot lava sliding down my throat as he heavy his body back and forth and cried out as if in pain as his orgasm overcame him.
In a moment, both reassembled ourselves, realizing that our behavior was not correct for our positions. Yet we both knew that this vivid experience would never be forgotten and the hope lay somewhere deep in our consciousness that it might be repeated should the opportunity present itself.
We shook hands, quite formally considering our previous actions. He left and immediately George knocked and entered at my bidding. His face was red and he was breathing audibly. "Dear Dexter. I didn't know that you engage in homosexual pursuits. Did you have a satisfactory release from your activity with the bold and dashing man of the law?"
"Well actually, I did not. I applied myself to his pleasure and foreswore my own for the time."
"This you are stiff and wanting sir?"
"Yes, that is true, but I am sure it will pass....in time."
"No need to wait. I am your assistant in all things." He fell to his knees and expertly and quickly opened the buttons on my flies and extracted my hot prong."
"Yes it is very hard and very wanting. I see the bubbles of manly wine on the end tip. I shall sample it."
I cried out at the wonderful sensation of his hot tongue licking the tip of my cock. He then demonstrated his lingual agility by wrapping his tongue around the shaft and corkscrewing it rapidly, finally taking the whole organ into his scalding mouth. I was overcome with tenderness for my little George and I rubbed his blond head and pulled his ears tenderly and squeezed his cheeks. "Oh dear George, I fear I will shortly deliver my essence to you. Are you ready?" He shook his head yes and the action precipitated my explosion. I cried out loudly, my hips began a rapid fucking motion and my prick began spewing my sperm in spurts, perhaps ten in decreasing intensity. When I finished, I fell momentarily into a sort of faint and revived as George patted my face gently. "I know you have waiting a long time for this and it quite overcame you. I consider that a great compliment. I am ready whenever you feel that stiffness to be incommoding and you may call upon me at a moment's notice."
I leaned down and kissed my companion. He returned it spiritedly. Finally we both realized that we had a facility to run and must return to our duties.
This day's class was in mathematics. I used this opportunity to regain my strength that had been a bit sapped from my spectacular orgasm. Next to me sat faithful, little, pretty George, regarding me with loving eyes, apparently happy that he could have brought such a powerful experience to me. Whilst I was in no mood or could bring that about today, I vowed that I would, somehow repay him. I did not worry that George was in an arid desert of no sex. I suspected that he had enjoyed liaisons with one or two of the boys as I noticed that when we marched from one place to another that one or two of the boys put there arm around George's waist.
No sexual occurrences presented themselves for months after the exciting events with both the Constable and George that day, but shortly there would be a sexual event that would dwarf anything I had known previously (which is no surprise) but also anything I might have in the future.
I reread the above paragraph and wonder if I promised too much. Well, it will be for you to decide.
The boys, George and I had finished the evening meal. It was a particularly wonderful repast as some of the town hunters presented three braces of quail. The boys were humming their way through the meal with delight. Now we were all relaxing in the parlor room, just off the dinning area, staring at the comforting flames of the fireplace. I noted that the boys were whispering among themselves and they included George in some of the conversations. It seemed to me that they were making plans for something. They smiled in my direction several times and were so full of merriment that they could hardly contain themselves.
Finally they pushed Harry forward. Harry had gradually become their leader by virtue of his manly development, hairy chest and deep voice. Harry cleared his throat and began, "Dear Dexter. You have been the instrument of our salvation. (he crossed himself.) We might have died this winter if you hadn't intervened. We love you and want to do something in thanks, especially since this is the Christmas season. Now we have no money and no possessions to enable us to have a present for you. The only present we have is our sexual skills and we wish to make them a gift. We excuse ourselves, now, to get ready. Please come up to the dormitory with George in about fifteen minutes."
George spoke after the last boy left. "I won't tell you what they planned, but remember the story of the little Drummer Boy."
The time had arrived. George and I made our way to the dormitory room. There we found the boys, all naked, all sitting on the end of the bed, smiling. They pushed Harry forward again to be master of the evening. "Dexter, do not be offended, but I have appointed four boys to prepare you for your gift." At that, four of the older boys detached themselves from the rest and seemed to attach me, except they were very gentle. Eight young hands tugged at my clothes, opened buttons, slide trousers down and did the same with my underpants. One boy took liberty to caress my chest, with special attention to my nipples, soon I was breathing deeply from the thrill of his ministrations. Another boy began a gentle stroking of my ball sac, and another reached under him and stroked my arse hole. This was bringing me to a high pitch of excitement. Soon another boy took my prong in his mouth, he in turn was engulfed by another naked boy and so on along the chain of boys, until the finish child had George's (probably familiar) organ in his mouth. The feeling on my prick was heavenly but this was increased the sight of my boys, their cheeks pulled out with sucking, and mostly because of the sounds of mouths on pricks and boyish sighs and gradually moans. Since these were youngsters, their ability to withstand the delicious assault of smooth, hot mouths and busy tongues were not as strong as adults and before long some of the young one's cried out that they were coming, or that they were here, or it's happening. Lovely statements and cries that belonged to each of them. The older boys held out longer but they succumbed shortly to the inevitable as did dear Harry who was my partner. His body stiffed and he left off his duties for just a moment to let out a howl of orgasmic joy, then his lean hips began to fuck the mouth that had his generous cock as he delivered his offering. The sight of that reduced me to weakness and I could not delay my own orgasm. With a long croon and short hiccups and gave in to it. Harry slurped with all his ability and managed to hold my offering, swallowing with a smile on his face and licking his lips in pleasure. "Good stuff Dexter."
I fell into the long bed and was immediately hugged by Harry and Harry in turn by the fellow next to him. Soon we were all snuggled together and George pulled the warm blanket over us. Just as I was slipping into a lovely nap, I heard one of the boys saying, "This Boy's Home is the most wonderful place and we have some exciting times ahead, but there is one thing that hangs over us."
"What's that? Asked a chorus of boys."
Harry's deep voice replied, "We'll have to leave when we are eighteen."
End