This is a true account of my youth. Any comment to Offroaderlr@yahoo.com please.
I have not led the life I should have and am only now coming to terms with that fact. What happened when I was 13 and in the years that followed had a major effect on my life and made me deny what and who I was. Having finally accepted what I am I can now look back and deal with the memories. What I am going to tell you about happened in England, in Portsmouth actually. Some of you who know the area may even recognise the places I mention and the school I went to. I have changed the names of those involved as they may still be alive and might read this, or somebody who knows them might read it. I do not want any Policeman trying to make his name by prosecuting somebody for things that happened quite a few years ago either. I was 13 at the time and I went to school in Portsmouth, even though I lived 14 miles in a town called Fareham. I had a father who did not like me and was violent. He was a sportsman and loved sport. My brother was good at sport and I was not. I would try everything I could to make my father proud of me, to make him love me, or even notice me as something more than just a punch bag. It didn't work. My mother was over protective, but was also never satisfied. I always "could have done better" My mother paid for me to go to Saint John's College in Portsmouth, well Southsea actually but nobody in the US of A would have heard of Southsea whereas they might have heard of Portsmouth. I travelled down on the train and then walked the last two miles to the school. I had started just after my 13th birthday, which was at the end of August. Before that I went to a Secondary Modern school. [In UK we start at secondary school at age 11 and leave at 16] I was pitifully shy and also thin, so I was a ripe target for bullies. I was also quite bright and liked school, so that made things even worse. After my sporty brother won a free place at a Grammar School my mother decided to send me to the school she had always thought of as the best in the area. St John's was a Catholic School where most of the teachers were, in fact, monks. The present problems with the Catholic Church in USA were rife in the school and I fell foul to their lust, but that is another story. I was in that time when sexuality is coursing through a body, but there is no knowledge or understanding about it. I could not talk to my parents. My father would not talk to me at all and my mother was almost Victorian in her prudish attitude to sex. It had to find out on my own. I had all ready found out that it felt good to rub my hard cock and soon found the pleasure of shooting. It was my secret and I felt nobody else knew about things like that. I thought it was very dirty and probably against the law, but it felt so good. By accident I had found that some toilets had drawings and writing on the walls and so of it was really interesting. I never wanked off at home in case my parents found out. My brother was a sneak in every way. Telling my parents about things I did (sometime about things I had not done but he never bothered with the truth) and also sneaking around to catch me out. These toilets were not only a source of relief, but of knowledge and stimulation. I know it sounds naive, but it never crossed my mind that the holes in the walls went right through, and that men might be spying on me, for ages. There was one toilet on my way from school to the railways station at a place called Fratton Bridge. It was one of those really old, possibly Victorian buildings. It had high gloss dark tiles on the walls, copper pipes and old cast iron cisterns. It was a really dirty smelly place, the walls were always covered in condensation and the floor was usually very wet. There were two cubicles at one end, and the urinals were along a wall at right angles to the cubicles. There was a zigzag type entrance so you couldn't see in until you had walked past these two short walls and the floor was concrete so you could hear anyone coming in. Also, and a big bonus to me, there were holes in the cubicle doors so you could see the men at the urinals. The walls of the cubicles were mostly tiles, but the upper part was painted in a green colour as I remember. The doors were painted a green/blue colour. Both the upper part of the walls and the doors had writing on them, and that was what interested me. I used to go in there on my way home and read the stuff people had written and have a quick wank (I jerked off for our American readers), and then run to the station about three hundred yards away just in time to catch my train. Sometimes I would wank off again in the train toilet on the way home. I had been doing this for about two months when the event of this tale happened and my life was changed for ever. I was 13 years and six months old. I was slim and shy and fascinated by what I read on the walls of toilets. Sex just seemed exciting and yet dirty at the same time. I felt like I was the only one who did the things I did and thought the things I thought. I knew in some way it was wrong and I had to keep it a deep secret, but at the same time it felt so good. This evening it happened I went to the toilet as usual and went into the cubicle on the right as I faced them. The other cubicle door was ajar so I guessed it was empty and I thought I would change round when I had read everything new in the one I was going into. As the floor was wet I did what I usually did and hung my school blazer on a nail in the dividing wall. Then I took my trousers off and hung them up there too. I was soon reading and wanking. I sensed a movement to my right as I was reading stuff on the door and turned to see my trousers and jeans disappearing over the top of the dividing wall. I was terrified. I thought they were being stolen and I was going to be left wearing just my school shirt and tie, my pants (briefs for those in US of A), and my shoes and socks. I didn't know what to do. My erection vanished in seconds. Then rolled up piece of paper came through the hole in the dividing wall. I opened it and read it. "If you want your clothes back open the door and I will give them to you" I didn't know what to do. My pens were in my blazer pocket not in my school bag so I couldn't write anything back. I didn't know of the man who had sent to note was going to beat me up, or was a Policemen or what; but I knew I couldn't go home as I was. How could I explain loosing my trousers! I hesitated for a couple of minutes and then slowly slide back the bolt on the door. I didn't have time to open the door. It was pushed open, this man came in, and he locked the door again behind him. He said nothing, hung my clothes back on the nail and sat on the seat. I looked at him. He was fat and dirty. He was wearing the uniform of a railway worker. There was a big yard at Fratton so it was not unusual to see railway men around. He looked disgusting, smelt dirty and had a leering smile on his face. He kept looking down at my crotch and it was only then that I realised my pants were down round my knees still. I went to pull them up but he stopped me. He stood up, picked me up and stood me on the toilet seat. Then he grabbed by cock. He rubbed it but I was too scared so nothing happened. Then he leant forward and sucked it into his mouth. I tried to pull back but he held my bum so I couldn't. He started sucking my cock and even though I was scared to hell I felt I was getting hard again. I did get hard and it started to feel good. In fact it started to feel great and I think I must have moaned or something because he stopped for a second and said, "Feels good don't it nipper" [NIPPER is a word for a male child used in UK some years ago] I don't think I said much but I felt as lot as he went back to sucking me. I could feel that I was getting closer and closer and I knew I would come soon and I thought he would be angry if I did it in his mouth so I started to say "Stop stop" He carried on till I was almost shooting and then he stopped, stood up and lifted me down and sat me on the seat. Then he opened his fly, pulled out this huge fat cock and said, "My turn now nipper" I looked up at his face in horror and he was leering at me and holding the small fold over wallet I kept my train ticket and dinner money in. It also had my name and address written in it. So you name is ********** and you live in Fareham do you. I knew then I was stuffed. He knew my name, my address and also, because I wore a school uniform, what school I went to. "We'll keep this between ourselves if you are a good kid and do as you are told" Then he pulled my face towards that fat cock. "Open you mouth now *****" I could smell sweat and pee as his cock touched my face. I thought I was going to be sick. I could also see thick dark hair! I know it might sound strange but I had never seen an adult cock so I didn't know about pubic hair. I didn't have any and though that was normal for all males. I was both terrified and nauseated. I opened my mouth to ask him to stop and he pushed the end off his cock against my lips and teeth. "No teeth now nipper, just like I did it to you" With that he pushed some more and the fat end slide into my mouth. He grabbed a handful of my hair and twisted. "I said mind the teeth" I did my best to keep my teeth out of his way. He groaned and pushed some more. More of that gross fat cock slid into my mouth and touched the back of my throat. "Now suck it like I sucked yours, like you were sucking a lolly" I tried to do what he said and sucked hard on it. "That's it nipper, you're good; now slide up and down it at the same time" I did what he told me, but it was difficult as I had no idea what he wanted really and was feeling sick with the taste and the smell. Before long I didn't have to worry about sliding up and down it as he took over. He was moaning and grunting and pushing his cock down my throat then pulling it almost out so the fat end was pushing against the back of my teeth. "Oh god kid, yeah, keep sucking it, yeah keep sucking it, this is soo good oh yeah god yeah you are fantastic" It was a stupid feeling, but somehow I felt sort of proud that I was making a grown up man feel so good and that a grown up man was saying nice things about me. I still thought I was going to throw up especially when he forced the fat end down my throat. My jaw was hurting because it was being forced open more than it had ever been before, but in a way I also felt proud. My mind had not worked out what the extra noises meant. But I soon found out. Suddenly he started to make like strangled grunting noises and he his body seemed to freeze and go stiff. He stopped pulling right out; just pulled back a little bit and then pushed hard in again a couple of times. The he gave one big shove, froze, made a loud sort of strangled scream and I felt his cock throb in my mouth twice. It was then I realised what was going to happen but he had his hands on the back of my head, holding me pressed into his crotch as his cum pumped into my mouth and throat. It seemed like there was gallons of it. I was bitter and thick and tasted of cigarettes. I refused to swallow, but the result was that my mouth got flooded and it went into my nose. He rocked backwards and forwards about five or six times, just a little movement. He was like pulling back about an inch and then ramming his cock back down my throat, and each time he pumped more cum into my mouth. In the end I had to swallow or I thought I would drown. It tasted horrible and I started retching. He held his cock in my mouth for a bit longer and it started to go soft. He pulled it out very slowly. "Keep your lips closed over my cock and keep sucking it. Hold your tongue against the underneath as I pull out" I was in a daze and did what he told me. I never realised he was getting me to clean his cock for him. Eventually he pulled it right out, slipped it back into his dirty underwear and did up his fly. "My shifts mean I can't see you for about three weeks *****, but then I expect you to be here, on Monday in three weeks time. I will put a note on the door to make sure you know so keep checking" "I can't do that. I don't like this" "I didn't ask if you liked it of if you wanted to do it again ****.If you don't meet me again I will visit your school, or maybe you house. I know where you live and you go to St John's, I can tell from your uniform. I bet some of the monks would love to know you hang around toilets and suck men's cocks. (I later found out that what he said was very true, some of the monks did love just that sort of thing). So you do as you are told and we will get along real good and have some great times together. See ya soon nipper" With that he opened the door and left. I locked the door and started to cry. At the same time I started retching to get the cum out of me but it didn't work. I wiped my eyes and then wiped the cum that had run down my nose and face. I put my trousers and blazer on and picked up my bag. I pulled back the bolt on the door and opened it. I hadn't worked things out. I just was not thinking right. There were two men in the urinals and they were wanking (jerking off) their cocks right in front of me. They must have heard everything and worked out what was going on. "Come on kid, what about us now. Want to suck some more?" I ran to the entrance and could hear them laughing behind me. I ran to the train station to catch my train. Who should I see walking along the other platform towards the railway sheds but the man from the toilet. He was talking to another man. He looked over and I saw him nudge the man he was talking to and point across towards me. Then my train arrived. I sat right in the corner trying to bury myself in the seat so nobody could see me. I felt everyone must know what I had just done. I knew I couldn't meet him because the school holiday started in two weeks time so I wouldn't be there. What if he came to my home?? I didn't go back to the toilet at Fratton Bridge for ages, but it didn't make any difference. I went into two other toilets and there was a note on the wall. "To the St John's boy, see you again soon" He was like advertising me in other toilets so I couldn't go anywhere without being reminded. I visited the toilet at Fratton Bridge just before the school holiday and there was the note. "To the St John's boy don't forget our date. I want more of your pretty little mouth" I felt sick and wanted to die. He didn't get what he wanted because of the school holiday; but he knew where I lived, where I went to school and my name. He didn't get what he wanted when he wanted it, but it wasn't the end: it was just the beginning of two years of servitude to him and his friends!