Trinity Home for Boys
By Rob Loveboy
Edited by Embee
James P. Lawrence ran a very lucrative illegal business. His privately-owned orphanage “Trinity Home for Boys” - which housed 60 boys aged 6 to 16 - was, in fact, a front for the true nature of the business - renting and selling boys to very wealthy men from around the world. His facility, although government subsidized, was largely funded by public donations. The imposing fortress-like stone facility was once a monastery situated on remote Trinity Island, far removed from civilization, and therefore far from the scrutiny of government inspectors. Unless they rented a boat or flew in by helicopter - an expense unjustified in most government budgets - Trinity Home remained a remote and trusted entity for the most part, with its own specially-built landing pad for client helicopters and airstrip for private planes.
Trinity Home boasted an ecological-based education, and was staffed by top-level educators with credentials to match. The medical team comprised of a doctor and two male nurses in a state-of-the-art infirmary. Qualified culinary chefs prepared healthy meals. It was all a ruse, of course. All were boy-lovers and their jobs came with fringe benefits, total confidentiality assured.
Any scrutiny by officials would discover that Trinity Home only accepted boys under the age of 7 … Lawrence believed that age group was much easier to brainwash into thinking homosexuality was as normal as eating and sleeping.
Females were never seen, let alone talked about other than in a negative reference as “God’s little gender mistake.” There was no television or radio. For all intents and purposes, the boys were cut off from the outside world. Movie nights consisted of gay-porn, or, --as they were referred to--, “educational films.”
The inhabitants of Trinity Home enjoyed supervised outdoor activities. Soccer, tennis and a sandy beach where clothing was not optional. Sixty naked boys frollicked, escaping the stifling afternoon heat.
Boys aged 6-8 shared the same bed and were encouraged to touch each other and engage in mutual masurbation. Nine-year-olds were moved into an older boy’s bed for enhanced sexual education until the age of puberty, when they would become “mentors” themselves … a cycle that proved beneficial for long-term gains.
Lawrence built a few private beach-front villas that compared favourably with any luxury resorts. Distinguished guests enjoyed not only solitude, but a companion boy - or several boys of their choice - for the duration of their stay. They dined, of course, on the finest food at a separate facility, resembling a five-star restaurant.
Those same companion boys were responsible for housekeeping, eliminating the need for additional paid staff … similar to the boys helping around the orphanage under the guidance of the head maintenance person. Even the grounds were kept lush thanks to boys under the watchful eye of the groundskeeper. Every resident had a job, including helping in the kitchen. Lawrence always professed that idle hands only led to the possibility of dissension among the rank-and-file.
It was not uncommon for a boy to be to be summoned away for whatever reason, never to be seen again. Sold as assets, complete with false adoption papers to fictitious parents, which satisfied government bureaucracy. Or teens who had become too old or liabilities in other ways, would be taken to an auction house and sold off either as slave labor, or to some men who preferred that age group.
Those ‘sale events’ complete with a professional auctioneer, were always clandestinely held at another location in a nearby mainland city … Trinity Island could not possibly accommodate the number of aircraft required to bring in all the interested buyers. Boys for auction were all paraded naked with their hands tied behind their backs to prevent any attempt at modesty. Although most were seasoned whores, a few were intimidated by the crowds of serious buyers.
‘Culling the herd’ as Lawrence called it, was essential in order to continue accepting adolescent assets, trainees, some questionably true orphans supplied by boy-brokers with connections to children's services, only too willing to close another file. Those ‘scouts’ were paid a finder’s fee. No chubbies, redheads or blacks … Lawrence had his standards. He knew the boy-business inside out. Blonds earned more. However, he wasn’t above ‘value-adding’ by dying hair or trimming or shaving pubic hair, to make boys appear younger than they really were, and had a licensed beautician on staff who could do wonders with body hair top or bottom.
* * *
Nine-year-old Bobby Taylor was a little older than Lawrence's usual criteria. However, the kid had a ‘B’ type personality, blond, blue eyed and cute as a button, and had been in and out of foster homes all his young life. If worse came to worse, the kid could be auctioned off.
Bobby was somewhat apprehensive about being placed in an orphanage, however, all the wonderful things he was told about Trinity Home was intriguing. Especially exciting was the helicopter ride, as he wanted to be a pilot when he was older.
He liked what he saw, being shown around by a man who was very touchy-feely - something Bobby wasn’t used to. He was not at all pleased with having to share a bed with Tyler, a year older, who groped him that very first night.
“It’s okay, Bobby. Lotsa guys do this cuz it feels nice.”
Tyler took his hand and forced it on his own privates. Bobby turned away in a fetal position … he wanted nothing to do with Tyler’s strange behavior, and was too shocked and tired to notice the covers of other nearby boys billowing. The next day he complained to the dorm prefect, a teen of 15, who chastised him.
“Do ya wanna go back to a fucking foster home?” he shouted. “Git used to it. It feels nice and we all do it, and I better never hear another word about it!”
Bobby weighed the alternatives: no, he didn’t want to go back to another foster home - the boys he met seemed very nice. That night he caved into Tyler’s advances of mutual fondling … his dick even got hard, admitting to himself that he liked the feel of Tyler’s hand on his privates. Tyler explained masturbation - which was news to Bobby - and by the glow of the night lights, he realised the goings on in the dorm were not restricted to his bed alone.
* * *
Bobby was assigned kitchen duty which he didn’t mind. The chefs fed him well and he ignored their hands all over him. When he turned 12, his body began to look like other boys in the showers … his dick was thicker and he had a sudden thorny patch of hair breaking skin above the base of his dick.
A shuffle of accommodations, and Bobby was relocated to another dorm sharing a bed with 14-year-old Jeremy who initiated oral sex. Although Bobby was disgustingly astounded, he was in no position to refute the larger and stronger teen’s advances.
With Jeremy's cock brushing his face, Bobby felt he had no choice but to reciprocate. Although the dorm had no nightlights, he heard wet slurping and muffled sighs in the dark no different than Tyler’s. However, he was much too shy to advertise that he and Jeremy were … well … doing the same!
He learned about orgasms and semen from Jeremy. The night he had his first real orgasm was a joyous occasion. Word got around the dorm and he was congratulated with pats on the back and high-fives. He was proud.
* * *
Not long after, Bobby was transferred to a dorm for older teenagers. He wasn’t assigned a bed-mate, but was shared among the twenty boys, sleeping with a different teen every night. Sex was openly practiced in full view of others day and night. Orgies were common events, and the pressure to join in was overwhelming.
He was introduced to anal sex. It hurt like hell! But after several days and a multitude of cocks, Bobby became used to it even fucking a few guys himself, which he found enjoyable.
If for whatever reason boys were caught fighting, they would be forced to have sex with each other on top of a cafeteria table in front of the whole orphanage and its administrators during meal times. Needless to say, fights were a rare occurrence.
* * *
One day Mr Clayton, the math teacher, told Bobby to stay after class. Afraid he had done something wrong, he fretted sitting at his desk while the teacher fussed over papers at his own desk virtually ignoring him.
Finally, Mr. Clayton walked over to him, the bulge obvious even before he unfastened his trousers and pulled them down to his knees exposing a very large cock. “Be a good boy, Bobby.”
Rumors were rampant that men used boys for sex, however, it was never openly talked about among the boys. The whereabouts of boys missing from their bed at night was only too clear.
Bobby really didn’t have much choice. He took the man’s cock in his mouth, his hand barely wrapping around the thick meat. Mr Clayton caressed the top of his head and slowly gyrated his hips urging Bobby to take more length. He thought he was going to choke, he could barely breathe. Minutes later he recognized the familiar taste in his mouth. It was over, and Bobby gasped for air.
“Meet me in my room after dinner, Bobby.”
The staff housing was a separate building adjacent to the orphanage. Bobby found room 230 and nervously knocked on the door. “Come in, son.” a voice called out. Bobby was shocked to see Mr Clayton was not alone. Mr Reynolds, the English teacher, and Mr Mavers, another math teacher, were all seated drinking beer. Bobby hadn’t seen a television in years, but the men weren’t watching a normal program … on the screen were 4 boys around 10-years-old, engaged in sex with two men. Bobby was no fool, he knew why Mr Clayton had invited him, but he never expected an orgy.
“Have a seat, Bobby,” Clayton said. “I’ll get you a beer.”
With no other seating options, Bobby reluctantly sat on a sofa between Reynolds and Mavers, frightened like never before. He drank the beer quickly taking repeated nervous sips as the two men massaged his thighs. He didn’t particularly like the bitter taste, but it was a distraction. He became light-headed very quickly and was given another ... told it would relax him.
The men wasted no time. Reynolds removed his t-shirt while Mavers struggled to pull off his shorts. Clayton removed his shoes and socks. Naked, with hands and mouths molesting his body, his armpits licked and nipples sucked, he watched as Clayton moved between his legs and took his flaccid cock and balls into his mouth. The tongue felt incredibly pleasant rolling over his genitals ... so much so, that the sensuous attention was arousing Bobby.
The next step was inevitable. With Mavers holding his hand and Reynolds’ hand around his hard cock, he was led away to the bedroom. All three men undressed and Bobby was the center of attention once again. He was flipped around like a rag doll into various positions, always with a cock in his mouth and one up his bum, as the third teacher sucked him off ... rotating often.
Later, Bobby tip-toed through his dorm carrying his clothes. His bum hurt, his jaw ached, and the taste of cum lingered. He crawled into the nearest bed not caring who occupied it, and fell into a deep slumber.
* * *
Sunday came, the day selected boys were lined up naked in the library for ‘guests’ to pick and choose their flavor-of-the-week. Bobby and another boy his age followed a distinguished looking older man with white hair to his villa. Strangely, the man only wanted to watch Bobby and Karl having sex, giving them orders as to exactly what he wanted them to do. It was the first time Bobby licked another guy’s hole although he’d seen guys disgustingly doing that in the dorm. He knew full well the pleasures associated with the act … Mr Mavers seemed to enjoy it the other night, and Bobby didn’t resist the special attention.
* * *
Over the years, Bobby spent many nights with faculty members and guests of all nationalities, shapes and sizes. He became oblivious - a cock was a cock - although he didn’t particularly like sex with obese men, having to push their gross blubber up to gain access to their smallish dicks, or sitting on one watching their plump breasts wiggle like jello while he rode them.
Time caught up with Bobby. Seldom was he picked from a lineup … even staff members were no longer using him. He was summoned to Mr Lawrence’s office one day, along with two other 15-year-old teens, and they were placed aboard a helicopter to be auctioned off.
Standing naked in front of fifty men should have been easy after all Bobby had gone through over the years. However, he felt intimidated. Like an animal being physically checked, even his teeth were looked at.
Later, the bidding began at $5,000 for him … he could hardly keep up with the auctioneer's fast-talking. “Sold for nine-thousand dollars to the man in the black suit!”
His buyer was a nice-looking German man in his mid-30s. Bobby was somewhat astounded that in a nice hotel that night, the man didn’t want sex from him. He was confused. He tried to come onto his owner and was pushed away, not understanding the man’s language. The next morning he was aboard a private jet heading to Germany where he was handed over to another man who did have sex with him, at what could only be described as a mansion.
“Da, you are very good in bed, junger Mann,” he said in broken English.
Bobby didn’t suspect that the large home was a brothel. He was put to work making porn movies with boys as young as 6-years-old, and callously considered it payback time for all that he had endured as a child. After all, it was normal as far as he believed.
Jorge sometimes shared him with other men … men of importance. Only he and Jorge knew everything was being videotaped … to be used later to secure business deals or for money extortion. Overall, Bobby enjoyed nice clothes and plenty of pocket money.
Sadly, once he outgrew his usefulness Bobby found himself homeless and hooked on heroin, no thanks to Jorge’s liberal supply of it. He turned to what he knew best … turning tricks on the streets.
During this time he met an older man, Claus, who took him back to his home … they became lovers, and he never left. Claus put him in drug rehab and paid for his college education - he always excelled at math and eventually became an accountant. It wasn’t an easy transition from the past, and a psychiatrist helped him work through his years of brainwashing at Trinity Home for Boys.
Claus was a lawyer, and wanted to expose Trinity Home for Boys, but Bobby would have nothing to do with it. “I just want to forget it all, like it never happened. Please … just leave it be?”
Claus realized that dredging up the past would only harm Bobby, who made great psychological progress over the years. His sexuality was embedded … he feared and loathed women … and probably always would!
THE END …
Feedback cherished, email@example.com
Please visit my websire for more Loveboy stories robloveboy.ca