The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely a coincidence. This work of fiction depicts sexual acts between adult and minor males. If reading such is illegal where you reside or you are not of legal age, please stop and go somewhere else.
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The Safe Zone – Chapter 1
Ever since I can remember I have longed to live the life of a nudist. Getting aroused at the sight of naked males is in my very nature. I have vague recollections of being three years old and fondling my cock. My passion for cock has been high since kindergarten. I live in India and my name is Kevin. I was born to Christian parents in a poor village in the south of the country. For reasons that will become obvious to you as you read on I cannot reveal my exact whereabouts at this time. Suffice to say that if I did so, I'd be put behind bars for the rest of my natural life. You see I am a lover of boys and men. And in India it is criminal to be either one of those. So how did little Kevin grow up into a pervert? You might ask. Was he molested as a child? Does he go around forcing his genitals on unwilling pre-pubertal boys? The answer to both your questions will be a loud and emphatic NO! I am a boy and man lover because I was born that way. Period. Does that sound unbelievable to you? You may choose to believe what you wish. You may condemn me if you wish. But this I know for certain – there are many others like me in this world. And in this day and age we are destined to be condemned.
I am a little over 50 now and own an all boys' school and orphanage in a remote part of India. Obviously I have never married. Along the journey of my life I have gathered many educational degrees. Some folks may feel that all that education is being wasted. I will tell them that my greatest satisfaction is in spreading the right knowledge into these young minds. I have four adult male helpers who take care of this orphanage where very poor boys and teens are privileged to be taught and live. My helpers are past students of mine who were abandoned by their parents for missing a limb or their ability to speak. We are one big, happy nudist all male family. We are a grand total of 23 men and boys. In my younger days I had invested in the stock market wisely and have stocked up a tidy sum of money. My fortunes will easily keep me and this school running for the next 30 years. You might say that I am wealthy. My school boasts of a grand total of one classroom where students are privileged to sit on the floor and learn from their only teacher, me, who uses a blackboard and chalk pieces to explain the concepts of Science and Math. Since the school is so far away from neighbouring villages very few people actually come to visit us. Once a month my helpers and I take the road in my truck to the villages to stock up on supplies. And twice a year my younger brother, Charles, takes a trip from Delhi where he works to be with me for 10 days at a stretch. Charles is ten years younger than me and is my only family member who is in touch. He plans to retire soon and come to live with me at the orphanage. We are very close to each other, both sexually and emotionally.
I open my eyes slowly, the first rays of sun falling across the floor. It is summer time and school is in vacation. So the boys and I are relaxed. We allow each other to sleep for as long as we like. Our sleeping area doubles up as the classroom when school is in session so vacations are very welcome indeed. I hear the sounds of my helpers in the kitchen cooking up a huge wholesome breakfast for our family. They are so very faithful! I muse fondly. Peter is the best looking, I reckon. Though my brother Charles, finds Roger to be the hottest. Mark and Bob are nice too. Me and my bro had found the four of them over twenty years ago being ill treated at a monstrous orphanage. They had been clothed in rags and their small bodies emaciated because of malnourishment. Clearly the care givers appointed by the government were the vilest creatures you could imagine. It wasn't difficult for Charles and me to get custody of those poor mites – in this country corrupt orphanage owners will sell their own mothers for a small sum of money. It's sick! No one knew at that time how old the starved boys were. But they looked to be eight or nine to me. My heart had gone out to them. They were the ultimate outcasts of India: they were orphans and disabled. These four kids were the first inmates of my orphanage. Not knowing what their names were I had given them Christian names, although most certainly they were not Christian. I raised them with love and affection – teaching them that practice of spirituality was better than all the religions put together. I taught them Science and Math and fed them. They loved me like the dad they never had. My brother loved them too and whenever he came down to my orphanage spent happy moments with them. Peter couldn't talk – shockingly some crazed devil had cut off his tongue when he was a tiny baby – long before me and my brother found him, and the others had a disfigured leg or hand. I had taught them to be thankful to the Universe for all that they had and be content with their bodies.
This morning I turn my head to see my bro fast asleep next to me, his arms around two boys on either side. My brother shaves his body: ever since he was a teen he hated body hair and would make me shave him. I raise myself on my elbow and look around our "bedroom". Boys all around us lie sleeping. All of us are completely naked. No clothes at all. The youngest boy is 6 and the oldest 17. My eyes are caressing their naked bodies. Some are lying on their backs and have stiff erections in their sleep. Hardly anyone has full pubic hair and their cocks stand proudly pointing at the ceiling. My brother farts in his sleep and I glance at his hairless ass crack. He has a hard on too. The boys sleeping on either side of him have their legs over his thighs with their eyes tightly shut. One of them is drooling over my brother's armpit. Ever the careful eater, even the morning fart of my brother does not smell bad. Across the room I see two boys asleep with each other's cocks in their mouths. I smile with pleasure. They must have indulged in heavy bouts of 69 with each other in the night and dozed off in that position. The oldest boy in my orphanage had masturbated and had dried cum over his chest and pubes. He always slept in a foetal position with his thumb in his mouth. He has done that ever since he had come to live with us years ago. All the boys who we brought in were initially surprised to see so much nudity and sex but soon enthusiastically joined in. Every single boy loved the place and wouldn't dream of running away. We had two cardinal rules in our love-home, for that is what we called my orphanage: no corporal punishment and no abuse of any kind. No one was allowed to swear or hit anyone else. When any one got angry he was given a pillow to thump. We called it our "hot pillow". In the traditional Indian way, everyone was encouraged to meditate to still the mind. Sex was consensual and open. And boys being boys, frequently indulged in heavy masturbation and sex. An erect penis is a very common site among us and we rejoiced at the sight and feelings. Even in the middle of my class if a boy was feeling very horny he would get up and proudly show off his erect cock to everyone, even going into the kitchen to show off to my helpers. Then he would ceremoniously stand and masturbate while other boys looked on appreciatively or joining him. I would pause my class for some time till everyone's cock was flaccid and continue. And this method of energy release, I found to my delight, was the best way to obtain undivided attention of all my pupils. Where sex and nudity is something to be openly enjoyed without taboos of any kind the mind supports the body in the pursuit of learning. So in my class clothing was optional. My helpers and I were always completely nude except when we went out to the neighbouring villages to stock up. They loved me and I them. Nudity was a way of life for us. So the moment we got back to our love-home we would strip off completely and pack up our clothes.
This morning I get up, stand straight and stretch. I step over my sleeping boys gently so as not to wake them and make for the kitchen. Peter is stirring a huge black pot with a big ladle. Traditional Indian rice and pulses are being cooked over a wood fire. Roger is squatting over a pile of vegetables, chopping them into fine pieces. Mark and Bob are washing the dishes in a tub of water. All four of them are butt naked as usual. Roger's monster cock slopping over the veggies he is chopping.
"Hey Roger! Be careful with that knife, my love! Don't let it hurt your penis". My cheerful voice rings out. Hearing me all four of them break into broad smiles and come to hug me good morning. As is my habit, I stick my fingers into their ass cracks and bring them to my nose. I love ass sniffing. Theirs have a clean assy aroma. They kiss me on my cheeks and quickly return to their chores. It would not do to keep our boys hungry for even one minute when they wake up!
I walk out to the big latrine some way away from our orphanage. The latrine has just got one door - the main one. The ventilator windows open away from our love-home orphanage, so there is never any stink. We squat over a hole in the ground to shit. And this latrine has two rows of holes with two low ledges where we would squat and shit facing each other. I squat over one of the holes and deposit my shit straight out of my rectum into the holes. I have filled a small plastic bucket with water and kept it in front of me to wash my ass afterwards. We don't use toilet paper in India, water is best we think. I finish and as I am washing my ass two of my boys walk in. Seeing me there they smile with pleasure and come to wish me good morning. One of them fills a bucket with water from the tap and stands it between two holes facing me. Both squat over the ledge together facing me and continue chatting. We pay great attention to hygiene and cleanliness and always inspect each other's anuses after we wash to see if they are clean. As the two boys are talking to me, others come trooping in noisily. Some of them run to the ledges to squat, they have to go immediately. So other boys fill small buckets with water and get them for these "urgent boys" as we like to call them. Soon the latrine is filled with sounds of farting and foul smells. Some boys open the ventilator windows wide to let out the stink. None of us mind the stench too much since the breeze carries it away soon. When the last of the boys has washed his anus and has been inspected by others we pad over to the other side to bathe. There is a large open iron water tank with mugs for us to dip in, fill water from and pour over each other's heads. We take care to wash each other gently and carefully. No one must remain unclean, the older boys washing the younger ones.
The oldest one, Jacob, has just turned 17 and has pubic hair. Some younger boys are helping him wash it carefully. In turn he bathes them and soaps up every crevice and fold. Jacob has had raging hormones since he was 10 and is always horny. He masturbates several times every day and in the night. He is an expert in giving blow jobs. His tongue has explored the penises of every one of us in the orphanage. He can get any one hard within no time. It is so common to see him walking around with a stiffie that we have named him Mr. Cock. When he gets very aroused his throbbing cock presses up over his tummy. At the moment Mr. Cock moans with pleasure as one of the young boys is soaping his organ. His hard cock slowly rises up, its glistening tip pointing at the sky. He has a broad grin on his face. Mr. Cock is happiest with a hard-on. He enjoys getting every boy hard. His favourite is a 10 year old Mr. Lick as we call him. Mr. Lick is a born rimmer and rims expertly. So as Mr. Cock is bathing, Mr. Lick makes sure that their assholes are cleaned well with soap and water.
Mr. Cock finds his prick pasted up to his navel and washes off completely, he walks around showing off. It's hot outside so I don't mind him walking around dripping wet. The other boys grin excitedly and fondle his boner. He walks up to me and rubs his rod against my thighs. I spread his ass cheeks gently with my fingers to sniff and rim. I let my tongue roll over his puckered, pink hole while he moans loudly. His cock is too stiff to be masturbated. After I let go of his buttocks he turns around and kisses me full on my mouth. Then he goes to Mr. Lick and holds his hand. They walk arm in arm, Mr. Lick's prick proudly jutting out straight and Mr. Cock's pasted up. They open the door of the latrine and walk over to the love-home. They mean to show off to my helpers and enjoy seeing them get hard. They know that my helpers find it tough to concentrate on their cooking and cleaning with hard-ons and these boys love teasing them.
.... to be continued.