DISCLAIMER:
 
This story is a work of fiction and contains
descriptions of explicit sexual acts of a boy
discovering his sexuality. It contains graphic
scenes of sex between an underage boy and adult
males... If this type of content offends you or you
are under the age of 18 do not read it.
 
 
You may contact me at nite_24@hotmail.com if
you like. 

 

 

The run away boy

 

Chapter 1: Run away

 

It was night when he got the phone call. He answered it. "One of our guests ran off" the voice on the other end of the line said. "Thompson do you have the time to help us look?"

"Sure" he answered "who is it this time? When did your guest run off?" "Before noon, we missed one when we counted heads for lunch. I'll fax you the data, let me know if you find something, thanks for your help". He hang up.

 

Mr. Thompson was a man in is late thirties maybe early forties. Not easy to tell. His body was in form, he was rather tall although not to extreme. His blue eyes always analysing the situation. He was not a dumb man mr. Thompson. Short light brown hair, you could see some muscles on his stomach as he put his shirt on, he looked good.

 

He had helped the orphanage several times now. He was friends with one of the caretakers there. The care for orphans was deinstitutionalized in the country, this means they closed down orphanages in favor of foster care and accelerated adoption. But there were always children who didn't suit the profile. They were to old or always ran into trouble.

 

The fax zoomed. He took out the paper and looked at the photo. A boy this time he thought. He looked at the stats. Dark blond hair, blue eyes, 180cm (5.9 feet) tall, 62kg. 16 years old...

He kept reading. As he thought, the boy had moved from foster parents to foster parents and finally ended up in the orphanage. His mother died when he was a baby, his father still lived but it seemed he drank, went violent, lost his house and finally lost his son. No known current address the fax said. Another sad story he thought.

 

When a kid ran away the orphanage contacted the police. They would keep an eye open on their patrols but their forces and time was limited. The orphanage didn't want to loose to many children cause it would look bad in the evaluation of the institution. So if they could they searched themselves too and they contacted some volunteers.

 

Mr. Thompson started his car and drove off. He had some ideas where the boy might be. On more than one occasion he had found the missing kid and returned him to the orphanage. This time it wouldn't be easy. He looked at his digital clock in his car. The green leds told him it was 04.12 am. The kid had an advantage in time.

 

He looked at several spots but couldn't find anything. It had been raining that night. Fotunately it had stopped he thought when his car drove trough a puddle and the water splashed up.

He drove around for two hours and then gave up. Maybe the kid got a ride or something. He parked at a gas station.

He was filling up his car and with his two fingers he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Relaxing him pushing the sleep back.

 

In the corner of his eye he saw something move. In the alley behind the gas station he thought he saw a head ducking away behind a dumpster. He went to check out the alley. He didn't know what to expect so he tensed up his muscles. When he approached the dumpster suddenly a boy lashed out and planted his fist in Mr. Thompson's stomach. He then tried to run past Mr. Thompson who set a step back. But Mr. Thompson reacted quickly, and managed to set his foot. As the boy was gaining momentum he tripped and fell flat out on his stomach.

 

"Guess you're the one I'm looking for." said Mr. Thompson. "Time for you to go back to the orphanage. " He rubbed his hand over his stomach.

The boy had made a nasty fall right into a deep puddle of muddy water. He was wearing a t-shirt and some shorts. He recovered from the smack that he made turned around and sat up. Looking at Mr. Thompson. His body was drenched with the muddy water but he didn't seem to care. "Let me go" he said.

"Go, where? To another dumpster?"

"I don't want to go back." "I hate it there".

"You have no choice".

"Let me go, you don't look like the police".

"I'm not, I'm Mr. Thompson a volunteer, I'll take you back".

Mr. Thomson took a step closer.

"Just let me go, you don't understand, ... they bully me there, I just want to go..., I..."

The boy brought his hand to his forehead. He looked desperate.

"Who bullies you, the staff?"

"No..., my roommates... I just..."

"I'm sorry we have to go"

The boy didn't respond he just sat there in the water.

"Ok get up"

The boy didn't move.

He took the boy by his arm and lifted him up.

"Oh man your not getting in my car like that."

He tried to take the shirt off, but in its wetness it glued to the boys body.

"Fuck" He said "I'll buy you a new one". And he tore the shirt of the boy.

The orange-yellow light of the street lantern shined on the boys body his wet chest reflected the light. He was a good looking boy, slim. Maybe he worked out a bit but not a lot vaguely his stomach outlined some muscles.

"Ok now the pants". He unbuttoned the pants and tore them down.

The boy didn't react at all he just stood there.

Mr. Thompson put the clothes in the dumpster. And pushed the boy along to his car only wearing his underpants.

They drove off.

 

"I'm not turning you over like that" he said while driving the car.

"You can clean up at my place, I have a spare room you can take a rest and we'll see what tomorrow brings, good for you?"

The boy didn't respond.

 

Chapter 2 Dirty boy

 

He pushed the boy to his small bathroom. "You can take a shower or a bath" The bathtub had a small glass screen which you could turn away so you could more or less take a shower without splashing the entire bathroom.

"I'll go and see if I can find something to eat for you." He went to the kitchen, maybe some eggs he thought. He set the table, got everything he needed. Than he listened but he still couldn't hear water running. He went back upstairs and found the boy just standing there.

"Is there something wrong with your head he said or are u playing games with me?"

"It's late, in fact its early morning and I'm in no mood for this".

"You smell, you look like you've danced with pigs. Get into the bathtub!!"

The boy didn't move, didn't react, didn't seem to care what happened around him.

He was just sick of it all, he didn't want to think, screw them all.

"I've known little punks like you before, you'll do as I say".

He let the water running, filling up the bathtub. "You want to behave like a four year old fine, I'll wash you myself."

He tore down the boys underpants. The boy didn't flinch.

He lifted one leg up into the bathtub then his other leg. He forced the boy down. He laid on his back. His knees bent. The water level raised, it came up to his stomach but didn't fill his navel, it slightly run over his nipples. Mr. Thompson turned of the water. He looked at the boy. The boy looked straight ahead, not cooperative, absent.

He looked down over the boys body. The water forming small ripples against the boys body as he breathed in en out. His chest slowly moving up and down every time he did this the water went over his nipples. His dick was totally limp exposed to the air.

 

Mr. Thompson put shower gel on his hand cloth and raised one of the boys arms up in the air. He started washing, but with such force that it looked like the boy hadn't bathed in a hundred years. He washed the armpit went over the neck and then took the other arm where he did the same. He pushed the boy forward and did his back. Then he went over to his chest still using full force, the boys skin went red. Maybe I'll get some reaction he thought. No reaction.

He continued down washing the belly of the revolting teenager. Doing so he touched involuntarily the boys dick. Again and again as he continued now washing the side of the boys body. His arm went over his dick. All the time the boy had defied him, not responding, not reacting. But now he got reaction, not from the boy but from the boys dick. It grew.

 

He tilted one leg up washed the feet and worked his way up. Again washing hard his hand shoved from time to time in the direction of the boys dick. He did the same with the other leg.

By now the boy was hard though not fully erected. Mr. Thompson took a step back admired his work checking if he had missed a spot. The boys dick slightly pulsed in the air. He looked at the boys face and saw that he was blushing but the boy didn't dare to look at Mr. Thompson.

 

"Right" he said "I promised to clean you thorough. He put a whole lot of shower gel on his washing cloth and raised both legs of the boy.

He hold the cloth against the boys crack. The boy felt the coolness of the shower gel. The cloth went up and down his crack, sliding smoothly, he felt the pressure against his crack, he felt the pressure right under his balls. A strange sensation which he hadn't felt before of course nobody had washed his ass before. With his legs pushed back, lying in a strange mans bathtub, helpless.

He felt his dick getting rock hard.

 

The cloth finally cleaned his balls. Mr. Thompson went around the base of the boys dick but didn't touch the dick itself. He stepped back again, the boy couldn't help himself fully showing his hard dick to this man.

 

"Sit on your knees, I have to wash your hair." Glad that he could change position this time the boy cooperated. He washed the boys hair. When he was finished he said "Here's a towel, dry yourself and come downstairs to eat something." " Don't make me come back and do it myself." Mr. Thompson said and he left the room.

 

The boy stood up, pulled the chain out of the tub. He looked at the water it was creamy black.

He dried himself and looked around for some clothes. There weren't any. There was only a small cupboard in the bathroom filled with some gel, toothpaste and others toilet articles.

He had to wear his towel. Problem was that it wasn't a large towel. He put it around his waist but the towel was not long enough, 3 inches short. So with one hand holding one tip en the other hand holding the tip, 3 inches of skin visible form the side. He descended the stairs.

 

"So you can walk again". Mr. Thompson said.

"No clothes" the boy managed to say.

Mr. Thompson put some eggs on a plate and a stack of bread. The boy looked and smelled the eggs. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. His stomach demanded food.

"Its for you." Mr. Thompson said.

He sat down and started to eat, he was starving and attacked the food.

With one hand he pushed his food in his mouth with the other he drank. He sat with one half of the towel under him, the other half slid of him and now hang down the side of the chair.

 

Mr. Thompson watched him eat, then stood up and left the room. When he returned the boy was finishing up. Mr. Thompson paused in the doorway looking at the boy in profile.

Looking alive now he thought. He remembered himself at that age, ready to explore the world and all the things and sensations within it.

 

"I've prepped my spare room" he said.

If your finished you can take a rest there.

The boy took his towel and they went upstairs. He showed the boy the room with the spare bed. I'll get you some pyjamas. He walked out when he returned the boy lay in the bed asleep.

He smiled, took the towel of the floor and shut the door behind him.

Chapter 3 Awakening

 

 

The boy woke up not knowing where he was. He laid in a strange bed in a strange room. He stood up look around, he remembered. He went to the window. It was not locked he opened it. The room was on the first floor. He reached out looked down in the yard. The garden went over in some fields and back further he could see a tree line. Maybe he could jump out he thought. He felt a cool morning breeze caressing his body, he noticed he was naked and he had a morning boner.

 

He looked back in the room. It was a small room, used as storage. There were sets of boxes. He browsed in them but they were full of junk. He tried the doorknob. It was not locked. Slowly he opened it peeping down the hall. He stood still, listened. He heard some muffled sounds downstairs. Got to find a toiler he thought. There was none on the upper floor, maybe next to the entrance downstairs he thought.

He sneaked downstairs and stepped into the hall.

"Ah your awake" a voice behind him said. Damn had the man waited for him? Her turned around. Still have his morning boner. Nothing I can do about it he thought. The man looked at him.

"You still don't want to go back?" Mr. Thompson said.

"No" he responded firmly.

Suddenly a knock on the front door. The boy froze.

Another knock.

"Just a minute" Mr. Thompson said and he pushed the boy trough a door. A stair leading to the cellar." Stay here".

 

The boy heard Mr. Thompson open the front door. "Jim Handelsman" he heard Mr. Thompson say "come in".

He knew that name it was one of the caretakers of the orphanage.