Date: Sun, 20 Jul 2003 08:58:07 -0700 (PDT)
From: Aihu Fist <aihufist (at) yahoo (dot) com>
Subject: Father Clement and the catamites 2

Father Clement and his catamites
by Aihu Fist


This story is truly fictitious, except for some details from my own
childhood, which were an inspiration source for this erotic tale. If you
don't like boy/boy/man/boy relation ships, don't bother to read this. Skip
this.

Part 1

     Enzo's parents had passed away when he was very young and with no
other siblings around, the growing pains were getting tougher and tougher
for him. After all those years of orphanage and predator fathers at the Don
Bosco Institute, he had to cope with hostile reactions in the real world.
People who found out about his true colours shunned him or despised him. No
matter what the rainbow people wrote, being gay living in a suburb was not
all that glorious. He insulated himself more and more. He was very
insecure, very shy, indeed. People were very suspicious about him. Why was
such a young handsome guy always on his own? The opposite sex was not
around for miles. But you know how folks focus on what they wish to see.

Maybe he had been too long on his own. It could also be traced back to his
early childhood, where peers would always peck on him, tease, humiliate or
bully him for no reason at all. He'd spent most of his teenage years at Don
Bosco's where he finished High school. For college there was never enough
money, but it wasn't his cup of tea anyway. Now, in the prime of his life
at 20, he had his own room in a community house. He did a few odd jobs here
and there for the neighbours, and only recently had he landed a job
delivering pizzas. He was very smart looking in his red shirt and yellow
pants. He had a pretty cute nose and full cherry red lips, a few freckles
on the nose and cheeks, with a kind of sultry looking face. But he thought
he wasn't handsome at all finding his body too scrawny. He wasn't too
confident in making friends either because of his shy nature, which he
seemed to nurture.

Then, one day, when he had to deliver that big Hawaiian pizza at the
American Gym, he got the shock of his life, impressed as he was by the
number of young people who were working out there.

The place had mirrors everywhere and there was the repeated sighing and
moaning of young men pulling or pushing weights. Dumbbells came in
different shapes and sizes. So came the men and boys. Enzo experienced
instant dizziness and a strange twang of desire deep down his abdomen. As
this was a fitness centre for men only, Enzo straight away felt very much
at ease. For since his third birthday at the orphanage he had never been
with girls and to be honest, he didn't fancy them. Even in class there were
no females. The whole atmosphere brought back memories of boy activities at
the showers and dorms. The running to and fro of sweating bodies made Enzo
a little excited and nervous.

    The Catholic Don Bosco Institute had made it a rule to separate the
sexes. As a matter of fact, the Institute had no female orphans. There were
five floors housing four dormitories with each twelve beds in it. On the
ground floor were the classrooms and one infirmary and the rooms of father
Brennan, father Pierre, father Hugo and father Mario. The second floor had
first and second graders. There was little or no privacy, the kids were not
even allowed to have their own underwear, because the Institute paid for
everything. No privileges. Of course, certain fathers who had a favourite
boy or two secretly made a few exceptions. Seeing naked boys running amok
in and out the dormitories on any which floor was nothing uncommon,
especially during the collective showers, of which each floor had seven. A
lucky number, for sure. There was no elevator but a long winding staircase
that led to 'the Office'. The residence and working place of father
Clement, the principal and director of the Institute. It had the reputation
of `torture chamber' and confessional as well as a place where one could be
lodged for a few hours, days or weeks.

Enzo had vivid recollections of Detlev and Otto, two German boys who had
been there, kind of in limbo for three months, waiting for a transfer to
another place where they would settle down until turned eighteen. But it
wasn't always easy to find an orphanage that would keep boys that long,
anything could happen. Occasionally the fathers accepted boys from reform
schools too, when Father State was desperate in search for a bed for a few
abandoned children or juvenile petty criminals. Those German kids from the
southern state of Belgium were the latter cases. Otto still had a father
who refused to have his kid stay because his new partner hated Otto so much
she would beat the shit out of him. Otto ran away a couple of times, only
to end up with some teenagers who had tricked him into some burglary
cases. It was arsonry, which had a big school going up in flames, for which
he finally got caught. There was only material damage but enough proof that
Otto was a `bad boy'. In the reform house he only learned more tricks so no
one wanted him any more.

Detlev was a produce of an Albanian prostitute and an East-German customer
whom she had fucked for years. Her most loyal visitor, though he'd refused
to recognize the child. Detlev had lived a very wild childhood at his
mother's, nothing was kept secret for him. He saw his first fuck when he
was only five, sitting in the same room next to her bed. In the beginning
it drove him mad because he thought his mum was dying or rather the
customer murdering her. He used to pound his tiny fists on the man's butt
with such anger that the guy nearly left the house naked. Because of his
antics she lost many customers. So she decided to explain him what it was
about. Every time he cried she'd carry him over on the bed and lick his wee
tiny little willy and soft little peas. Detlev soon cried all the time and
only stopped when she had her mouth over his mickey. He's seen dicks in
different sizes shapes and colours. Negroes', Arabs', Japs' and Chinese's,
you name it, he was there and saw...and he compared them all. By the time
he was ten, he had seen Deep Throat and read the Kama Sutra and had even
digested a few gay porn movies. But there was no need for watching
that. Reality was more interesting. He'd seen his mother suck cock or get
fucked op the arse or up the cunt maybe twenty times a day. His mum was a
real cute face pro just as he was. The number one of the local red district
was his mum who went by the name of Inga.  When she realized what a
precocious son she had, she decided it was time to get him through the
mangle and made him mount his own mother on his eleventh birthday. Detlev
of course was still a child in some ways. He didn't know that society had
certain rules and laws that prohibited sex between minors and adults
neither did he know that even consenting incest was a big no no. So out of
the blue, during sexual education class, he raised his finger to answer the
question of how babies were made. He described in detail how one did it,
showing his little prick to all his classmates. The schoolmistress failed
to handle this minor incident in an intelligent way and blew it out of
proportions. An investigation was underway and before Detlev and his mother
knew, they were headlines in the papers." Mother has sex with 11 year old
son." The many interviews with shrinks and police made matters only worse
for the already guilt ridden Detlev, who felt he had betrayed his mum, when
he had only been too anxious to let the world know how good making love
felt, even at the age of eleven and with your gorgeous looking mum.

Only, when the social assistants came to take the boy away to a foster
home, did she realize what had come over her. She was never allowed to see
him again. A year later she was found dead in bed with her throat cut. The
papers said it was a mafia crime of retaliation in the seedy porn world,
but others believe she committed suicide. Detlev still sleeps with a
picture of his mother, tucked away under his pillow. He was never told
about how she was found. She had died in a car crash, an official in the
previous foster home had told him, and she was now in heaven, for even
Jesus had pardoned Maria Magdalene, had he not?

Detlev's lovely curly hair fell over his collarbones like the synthetic
white angel hair on a Christmas tree. But what he most vividly recalled was
how embarrassed that boy was, whenever he had to queue up in front of the
showers in-between the Belgian kids, who were most unabashed letting hang
and swing what they were proud of.  When anyone was caught looking at his
fine elongated dangling cock he'd strut like a proud rooster holding his
male staff, like a pharaoh his sceptre and make it hard. He had no pubic
hair yet, perhaps maybe just a few blond hairs. In the night Enzo would
think of him and caress his inner thighs in longing for Detlev, his
semi-god from East Germany.

The other boy, Otto Tiethboll, was skinnier with a very whitish
complexion. He too was very attractive in a way and he always looked like
he was in for some mischief. Very blond hair cut in page style with a
neatly trimmed fringe over his brow. But, in the queue near the showers he
would always keep his cock and balls out of sight. Enzo once looked at it a
bit too long and he'd spotted it. In a second he put his hands over it and
continued walking like that, all the way to the shower. Enzo imagined him
in mediaeval dress wearing tights like Robin Hood, maybe even making out
with him, feeling his young lance through the fabric.

Yet, not everyone likes them. Sometimes when the Belgian kids lost in a
game they'd shout: "Heil Hitler!" and treat them on a Nazi salute.

They didn't know any better, frustrations ran high as everyone was here due
to some dramatic event of losing parents in their young lives. They just
vented their frustration on the first thing in sight. The German kids were
terrified and resented the racist remarks of their Belgian hosts. Enzo
thought it was unfair a thing to do.

In the still of the night when everyone was sleeping or pretended so, he'd
sneak into Detlev's bed. The first time he did that it had taken him a
great deal of courage. Detlev was the first boy he had really fell in love
with. He had grown tired of playing with himself. Detlev was sobbing so
much and gained no sympathy from no one near. So, Enzo just slipped in,
pulled the sheets up and dug himself in, next to sobbing Detlev. A little
surprised, he almost stopped crying.

-`Please, stop-a crying.'

-`Who are you?'

-`Enzo.'

-`Go away you Belgians are all the same. You hate us, he whined.'

-`No, Enzo said, I am no Belgian either; my father is from Italy and-a my
mama is-a from Sicily. They hate us too. You had-a Hitler, but we had-a
Mussolini, you know.'

Detlev's sniffing had stopped. He took a deep breath and asked:

`Will you be my friend for as long as I have to stay in here?'

-`I promise,' Enzo replied while putting his left arm over his shoulder.

Detlev had seemingly calmed down, looked up at the ceiling. The curtains
were still open; outside there was no living creature to be heard except
for an owl, maybe. The half moon gave them enough light to distinguish each
other's faces. It was eerily quiet as if everyone were eavesdropping. So
they started whispering instead.

To Enzo's surprise and satisfaction Detlev wasn't wearing any pyjamas,
instead he had very fashionable German underwear- a token of secret
lovemaking with a priest maybe? -, which sat very tight on his skin.
Lorenzo had observed earlier this week that this boy's underwear was much
too small for him. It was the odd size that always caught his eye and led
his attention to the contents of it. Enzo trembled by the mere thought that
he was lying next to Otto, who only had a pair of undies on. He smelled the
sweet scent of Detlev's shampooed hair, mixed with the aroma of boys-
sweat. He felt his little dick rising in his pyjamas, all along still
holding hands, fingers intertwined with Detlev's. But, the only thing he
did was talking about a future home; both of them wanted a mum and a dad.

-`I will always be here for you, Detlev, I, I, like you so much like, like
a, like a brother.'

He managed to quip. Detlev, very pleased moved his hand to Enzo's now
shivering body. Detlev, wanted to thank him by patting him on his belly,
but accidentally touched Enzo's crotch, which felt stone hard.

Enzo jolted instinctively. Strangely enough Detlev made no remarks. In a
kind of diplomatic gesture, he just moved his hand higher up and placed it
over his bellybutton.

-`You shiver, Enzo, why? Are you cold?'

-`No no,' replied Enzo, totally dumbfound at the natural ease of Detlev's
hand caressing him from the waist up over his nipples to the top.

-`You like it?'

-`Like-a what-a?'

-`Zis.' Detlev gave Lorenzo a kiss on the cheek.

Enzo liked it but somehow, he felt he could not allow being touched that
easily.

-`Hey, why you do tis?'

-`Hafe you ever kissed a girl. Enzo?

-`No, you?'

-`Neizer, but we can try it.'

He couldn't exactly call his mum a girl and certainly having learned from
the past he would never reveal that secret to anyone.

-`Ghow? Where-a can you find-a a girl so quickly?'

-`We don't need one, you could be one for me and so I can try it out on
you.'

-`No way, I am-a not-a girl, I am a boy-a, didn't you feel it a minute ago?
Whatta, is tis ting-a down here, you tink?'

Detlev grabbed it and held it in a firm grip.

-`How about zis one here, huh? Detlev pushed Enzo's hand onto his own
crotch.

-`Santa Madona, itis-a too biiiig for fuck-a girl.'

-`Ghow old-a are you?' Enzo asked.

-`Twelve next week.'

-`I don't-a believe you. Big-a boys like-a you don't-a cry.'

-`Feel here zen.'

Now, Detlev rolled his briefs below his balls and rubbed Enzo's hand over
his groin where he felt the soft touch of fresh unspoilt pubic skin. It was
fabulous to feel in the dark. Just like a blind man reading Braille books,
he was now reading the veins on his friend's penis. It felt huge compared
to his on tiny stake.

-`Enzo, how big ist dein schwanz? (Your cock)'

Detlev manhandled his five inches with bravura. Not only was it big it was
fat like a hotdog and Detlev was very tall for his age. A taut body and
strong lean arms, hands that could take on any bully, huge round nipples
and a skin bare hairless body.

Enzo felt defeated, he was right. Detlev was much more mature and gifted by
nature than he was.

-`So, you agree now?'

On what-a?'

-`To play ze girl.'

Detlev reckoned that if he wanted to fuck a macho Italian, he could not
fuck him up the arse, but if Enzo played that part of the girl it was only
logical that he had to let him fuck there to make it real.

-`I tink-a so, but-a don't-a tell the big boys, or I will never take-a care
of-a you anymore.'

-`Ok. I promise, now open your mouth.'

Detlev moved closer to Enzo's sensuous lips. The moon lit the curves of
them with a silver line. He saw a twinkle in Enzo's chess nut-brown eyes.

`Enzo's tongue was waiting eagerly, not knowing how it would taste like. As
Detlev's lips gravitated towards Enzo's they heard the others whisper. It
was as if they were sitting at the foot of the bed. No one was asleep it
seemed, or were they that scared they imagined voices. Their teeth clashed
at first but then Enzo gave way to the exploring tongue that entwined with
his, which was equally trying to get hold of Detlev's.

Otto paused for a minute, gasping for oxygen.

-`How does it feel? Great no?'

-`I don't-a like it-a, he lied, `I don't-a like-a to kiss-a and-a I am-a
not-a girl.'

Enzo wanted to be on top of him and conquer Detlev, not otherwise. But he
definitely liked the French kissing only he didn't want to give in too
quickly lest Detlev would not think he was too easy to get.

-`How old are you, Enzo?'

-`Eleven-a.'

-`Oh I see, I thought you were my age.'

-`Well, we Ritals, look older faster because-a- of-a the sun, we get-a
moustache much-a quicker. I ghave-a ghairs on my legs-a-already and a few
hairs under my arms. But-a very little down ghere.'

Detlev took a flashlight from underneath his pillow and shone on it and
then on his own.

-`Mama mia,' Enzo said and touched Detlev's erect standing penis with
lesser inhibition.

He had seen it only once when he came from the shower, caught off guard,
but the cock that was in sleeping mode then and it had not appeared so
impressive and powerful as now.

-`How much do you have of zis,' pulling a few whiskers on his groin.`

Detlev showed him his pubic whiskers barely half an inch long but
nevertheless charming.

-`Aie!'Detlev yelped.

Enzo had plucked some hairs away and sniffed at it. Then he smiled and put
it on his own flesh down below. Detlev smiled back. He liked Enzo an
incredible lot.

-`Now I ghave-a two ghairs here and you ten.'

-`Zat's why you should be a girl and I a boy, ` because men are always
older than the women. Look, if you put your birdie between your legs and
push your eggs inside your tummy you look exactly like a girl, really.

-`Wait I show you.'

Detlev's cock stood like a mast and it seemed that tampering with it would
prove to be very painful indeed. However, Detlev decided that he was the
master and not otherwise.

He pushed it down with all his might trying to bring it al the way near his
butt hole but it was to rigid to bend. The farthest he brought his five
inches was at inner thigh level. The testicles were driven gently one by
one into their pre-natal cavities. To make it look more real he pulled his
left leg straight over the other. Now that looked like a real pussy there.'

-`Come here,' Detlev murmured.

Enzo got pulled to the middle of the bed.

-`Now you do the same.'

Enzo did what he was expected to and succeeded very nicely.

-`You look wonderful, Enzo,' he said and kissed him once more.

`Keep them together now and don't make a sound. I'll switch of the torch
because It's too dangerous. The priest is on his nightly round and he
should not catch us, you hear?'

Detlev had the upper hand and he knew it, so he took all the advantage he
could muster.

Enzo lay there with hands stiffly locked to his thighs, still shivering in
excitement, wondering what Detlev would make of it. He closed his eyes in
anticipation.

Slowly but kind of awkwardly Detlev mounted on beautiful Enzo. His rear end
kissing Enzo's groin. Enzo feeling more like a horse than a girl. Should he
toss this cowboy off like in a rodeo stunt, just for fun? He had no time to
think it over twice, because Detlev was charging already, kissing him while
thrusting his magnificent cock into Enzo's empty scrotum.

-`Can you moan like a girl, Enzo?'

-`Why?

-`Please, just do it, that's what hot girls do in bed.'

Enzo sighed like if he were dead tired.

-`Not like zat, silly, you make me laugh. Hafe you never seen your mother
fuck?'

-`I never had a mother'

-`Oh, sorry.

-`Never mind.'

Detlev, jerked up and sat straight up raking his left hand between Enzo's
thighs and working one finger towards his sweaty cleft where he reached an
even wetter butt hole.

-`Mmaaaah ooowwss,' Enzo moaned.

-`Zat's it, zat's what I want to hear.'

 He resumed the pumping real hard and quick, having covered his penishead
with saliva, which Enzo had not even noticed.

-`Keep it between your legs, Enza,' Detlev sneered a bit irate because he
was nearly coming and didn't want it spoiled.

-`Enza??'

-`Shhhh, otherwise it won't work.'

It hurt a little bit, especially where the balls were locked up but at the
same time it was a new feeling he would not so easily forget.

The bed was croaking and Enzo moved up and down the mattress like a plastic
fucking doll. He locked his hands around Detlev's two halves and nearly
scratched him in a passion of deep desire.

-`Gut, gut, so, lass mal gehn. Bumsen ist so heiss, findest du nicht meinen
schatz?' (Good, good, let me go, fucking is so hot, don't you think so,
darling?)

-`Why you speak in German now?'

-`So, nobody will understand what love words I say.'

-`Encora, encora, si si si. Va bene, amore, ti amo molto, mi piage. Sei un
ragazzo molto particolare...puta Madonna.' (More, more, yes, yes, yes, it's
good, my love. I love you much, I like it. You are a son of a gun)

Wass?' (what?)

-`Notting, I said the same in Italian.'

The humping went on for another spell when suddenly,

-`Hu huh huh haaaaaaaaaaaaaa!' was all that came out when Otto released the
his juvenile semen.

Enzo was shocked and awed at the same time, when Detlev just fell knackered
over his tiny body with sticky plasma trickling in-between, knitting their
bodies together.

This one night was engraved forever in his young impressionable mind.

They had become inseparable, which created a kind of jealousy amongst the
rest.

The unavoidable damage had only started. Rumours went round about Enzo
being fucked by Detlev nearly every night, though no witness ever dared to
speak about it in the open, because all of them were in the same boat with
others or the fathers.

Part 2

Many nights had passed; Detlev had built up a kind of defence when it came
to being teased by the others. But, surely if the news was circulating in
such a small community, it was very much possible that word had even
reached the fathers who ran the place. The Jesuits were not particularly
fond of unhealthy friendships, but that was only for the outside
world. More frequently, kids were separated from one another when they were
seen playing with the same pal and when the relationship lasted longer than
a week. Then why did they never interfere with Otto and Enzo? Good
question.

Enzo had become the subject of ridicule. Everyone called him Enza. They
knew, and must have heard everything Detlev and he had whispered that
night.

So, he tried to distance from Detlev to avoid more humiliation. But he
gotten addicted to he taste of sexual pleasures and craved for it even in
daytime. He had abandoned most of his solo play, and the lovemaking at
night with Detlev had been reduced to the minimum of twice a week for his
own mental survival.

Then to his surprise, one night when he went to the loo, next to the
showers, someone followed him. He pretended he had not heard him, but
slowed down his pace. As he opened his fly and took his penis out for the
leak. He felt two soft hands on his buns.

-`Shhs,' he said, `It's me Otto.'

Without a word from Enzo, he had him undressed.

He felt the hot tip of Otto's glans touching the cleft of his bottom. At
once he pushed forward.

Enzo cringed, for a second.

Then he heard Otto spit. He'd removed his thin rod only for a second only
to insert it again.

-`Bewegst nicht (don't move) Enza. Ich steche nur langzam meiner schwanz im
deine arsh' (I'll put my dick softly in you arse.)

Otto never spoke a word of Flemish or French but with the fathers and then
only when he had to.

-`Baugt mal voruber (bend over a bit). Hier nahe die waschtische so konst
du etwas anfassen (Move over to the basin here, so you can hold onto
something). `zets deine fusen weit von einander (spread your feet wide
open).

-`Per favore (please), don't-a do tis, we will-a get caught-a.'

-`Shhhh, das ist eine surprise, das ist ganz toll, du willst sehn
(shhh. It's a surprise. Good fun, you will see).'

Again he pulled out of the crevice and spat some more in his hand.

Two fingers lubricated Enzo's arsehole very gently but accurately.

First one finger probed his inner walls. Enzo shuddered and looking over
his shoulder he met with the most beautiful facial expression sporting a
broad Colgate range of teeth flickering like crystal.

-`Kein probleem, liebe bube (no problem, dear boy).'

Otto pursed his lips and kissed him.

-`, Nun kein wort mehr, ok? (now, not a word anymore, ok? ). '

Enzo stood spread-eagled and stooped over the sink looking in the mirror
that only reflected parts of his face, which was illuminated by the
moonshine that came through a big window in the roof window.

Otto, inched his rod into Enzo's taut but flexible arsehole. Enough
practice with Detlev had surely enlarged Enzo's anus.

-`Nun bist du meine, ok.  Gehe nicht mit Detlev mehr. Alles ist shluss,
einverstanten? (Now you are mine, don't go with Detlev anymore,
understood?'

-`Kom mal naher, hierhin,'(come over here)

-`I don't- a understand-a German, what is it-a you are-a saying?'

-`Shhh, gar nichts, halt dein mund jetz.'(nothing at all, just shut up now)

While he moved in gradually, Enzo blew hot like a little donkey. Then Otto
froze and stayed like that not moving an inch. Footsteps! Enzo nearly
shouted. Father Clement was scavenging for easy prey in the dorm rooms.

-`Schnell, ims klo quick, (let's hide in the loo).'



Part 3

The pace of this man was fast; he was either very horny or very mad.

A flashlight's light bundle explored every nook and cranny of the corridor,
then into the dormitories.

Clement, was on the verge of an orgasm, god, he hated that father.

-`Two beds with no one in them. Number 7 and 13, father Clement muttered,
seemingly looking for some fair game for his `Office' punishments.

-`Yes, the smart ass Enzo and the whoreboy Detlev.'

The former was on his favourite's list ever since he had seen him walk into
his Office escorted by government officials.

-`Take good care of him, father,' the social assistant had spoken.

-`He is a special one; we never had a boy like this before.'

 He had remembered `the special one' and browsed through the whole dossier
of his.

-`I will certainly do so,' father Clement promised.'

Prior to Enzo's arrival, father Clement had received a file that had every
detail of his past doings and cravings. The boy had `for his own good' been
removed from the governments care into the hands of the Don Bosco Institute
because he had reached the age of extreme temptation. An accompanying
letter of the State's appointed psychologist quoted:

"His parents, who died in a car accident when he was only two, were of a
noble lineage. Since, he'd spent his youth in more than five homes. Only
because of lack of staff or space he was sent to other places. He was found
frequently playing with his own private parts too often when alone, but
worse, it appeared as if he would soon be looking for other boys to play
this game. His genitals had become his only interest. He would show his
erected penis to four or five year old little boys. So, he had to be locked
up a few times a day with no food and no water.  But even in custody he
kept playing with his pudenda. A junior member of the council took special
care of him. He was an interim worker, but we found him extremely helpful
in Enzo's case. The kid liked him so much, there wasn't a day he wouldn't
ask for him. The person in question took him out to entertain him to
deviate his attention from this sexual obsession. We had weekly reports
from this young psychologist. For a whole year he was back to
normal. Unfortunately, something in Mr. Eagle's private life made us decide
to sever the relationship between the two. We cannot elaborate or dwell any
further on this, as it is an entire internal matter. Mr. Eagle has left our
Institute and so there were no more follow-ups. Looking at the grave
situation we decided to send him to Don Bosco, where professional
counselling for disturbed children is taken at heart.  Please read the full
report. We know Don Bosco himself would be proud of you. I am sure he will
grow up into a fine respectable youth and maybe become a priest himself.

Yours sincerely,

Mr. C. Roach. "

Father Clement smiled at Enzo's ambiguous looks, this was a godsend
gift. But these were dangerous times he lived in and before striking at his
young prey he would have to find out a bit of real history on him. Was he
edible or poisonous? The report said, the boy had turned into a very
introverted youth. What was it that had them tick and fire that shrink?
Another boy groper who used his profession as a cover? But clearly there
was no abuse because thanks to him Enzo had turned back into a `normal' kid
again.

He decided to leave the case of Enzo for a while in the belief that he was
safe and that none of the other clerics would touch him without his prior
consent. There was enough envy amongst the black robes and it had produced
too often too many conflicts and internal dissent already, which was
fragmenting and corroding the spirit of the institute. The kids found out
fast about it and used it in their tactics playing them out against one
another, for their own benefit of course. After all who had invented the
rule: divida per impera?

Fortunately, he had his little spies who'd daily report on Enzo's nightly
behaviour, whereabouts, tastes and interests.

He knew that many a priest and boys wanted Enzo. Congo boy had revealed
into details what Detlev had proposed to him, and how he had raped Enzo
that night. Five boys had sneaked on hands and feet to the edge of the bed
and seen everything because they had forgotten to turn the flashlight off
beneath the bed sheets. Of course the boys had exaggerated to make things
sound real bad.

Yes, father, Enzo has sucked his cock, father, Detlev was shining the light
on it. I saw it. He sucked maybe one hour long and Enzo liked the fucking
very much.' Congo boy mimicked Enzo's `howling' so well that father could
barely keep a straight face when his cock pushed his head through his
soutane.

That was Congo boy's report, maybe somewhere along the line it was the
truth, but more probably it was all just a fantasy to earn another 200
franks.

Half a year had passed by and Clement could no longer resist the temptation
of exploring Lorenzo's butt. He had to have him before the boy went into
puberty, before the clouds would cover the face of an unblemished moon, as
a Pasthun proverb would say it.

Father Clement had stood there nearly fifteen minutes thinking this through
with the flashlight still shining on the beds.

Detlev and Enzo together didn't strike him as the perfect
combination. Detlev had never been in the picture in Congo boy's reports.

He would find them in no time.

They couldn't be too far away. How could he handle this, without putting
his job at stake? He couldn't afford to make a fuss about it. There was
enough in the papers already on bishops and who else. The whole Church was
falling to pieces thanks to the ugly intolerant Anglos and their brethren
in New Zealand, Australia, America and Canada, not to forget the Irish
bastards, who had never read a page of Ancient Greek history. God, why have
you forsaken your herders on which your church was built?

Feminazis and gay Nazis ousting anyone who wasn't in their league. The
fifties and sixties had been the golden age of his life when only at a snap
of his fingers he had what he wished for. When common folks had still
respect for us and churches were packed. Not to forget his missionary years
in Gambia, India and Morocco. Now in his mid forties he was caught in a
framework of traitors and conspirators who only wanted his position,
basically for the same thing: to have the boys to themselves in the
`Office'. Suffice to say that the `Office' was the key word that had
instilled fear in all kids who were not interested to be willing game in
the men/boy love coalition. And there were many like that to be had and
pacified by father Clement. In a decade only, at least a hundred orphans
had passed through his hands at the `Office', some willingly, others more
defiant would resist for a while, but in the end all surrendered like lambs
on a chopping block, when they saw they had no way out or someone at their
rescue or because they had been willing to save their arse in return for a
nice gift. Yes, they do exist, kids who have learned to barter for
something in return for bodily services. What no one wanted was corporal
punishment in public. The ultimate humiliation in front of your peers, that
is.

Strip down to the ankles those shorts and briefs, lie down over Clement's
lap who with one hand would hit their bottom with the love of Jesus Christ,
because "if thou loved your children, thou shalt not spare the rod."
Certainly, the rod was always his preferred tool, whether made out of flesh
or wood. All the kids experienced sooner or later the both of them.

Everyone was fast asleep. He turned back on his heels and moved to the
second, third and fourth dormitory. They were not in other beds with
friends either. It was two in the night, unusually dead silent but after
the drill they'd had on the soccer field, running in rain and wind for the
purpose of hardening soul and body, they had been obviously totally
exhausted. Certainly, the wearing them out had another purpose for him who
drilled them. Dead knackered boys would be too tired and faraway in
dreamland to even realize that somebody at night was stealing their
so-called innocence.

Clement had told them over and over how they had to overcome evil
thoughts. Only training and tough discipline and sports would turn them
into hardened unfazed young adults. But the only thing that hardened for
Clement was his own protesting malicious peg between his hairy legs when he
watched them bathing in the evenings or when he could masturbate them under
their bed sheets in the night. He had the whole place to himself. He was
the youngest priest, still going strong. The others were aging or nearly
retired old farts. They knew very well what was going on. More precisely,
they had taught him the whole business in the first place, but now they
just lacked the stamina of a testosterone-possessed male like Clement.

 After showering he had taken upon him the task of carefully inspecting
their bodies. Nothing of it escaped his attention. Their ears, nose
cavities.

-`How many times do you wipe your nose Johnny? What about your rear end and
your private parts, how often do you soap them in Dirk? Show me your butt
Francis, wider those cheeks, I said. You take your toothbrush now and clean
your arse with it, Francis, now, or I'll do it myself.'

were standard remarks and excuses to get to know them, how far he could go
before he invited them to the `Office' and find out what meat he had under
his thumb. Everything from the growth of pubic hair and hairs in the
armpits, the size and shape of their cocks and how big their scrotum and
balls were, the colour of it, was jotted down in a logbook, of course all
in a coded language that only he understood. He had all the files on a
database encrypted and saved on his notebook.

Today was his lucky day. He found himself a new subject worthy of
attention. Somehow he had always overlooked that kid.

-`Redouan, why do you keep your briefs on in front of the washbasin, are
you better than the others? Look around you; no one is wearing anything but
Mother Nature itself. Take it off or I'll do it myself.'

-`But Father, I cannot.'

-'Why?'

-`I cannot father, hu Allah, it is sin. I have not been circumcised yet.

-`What?'

It was dead still now. None of the boys had ever seen the kid naked, he
took showers with his underwear on. He'd been lucky all the way when he
slept on the second floor with the seven year olds which by the way had
never been father Clement's territory. It had been a punishment because of
his peeing in bed, at the same time he still had to come and shower here
among his age group. The seven year olds for some reason were too young for
him and let them to the old farts who were only too happy only to make
`touche pipi'. They were no threat because they couldn't get it up any
longer. He'd suggested Viagra, but they liked drinking too much of good
French wine and the combination of both was a big heart risk.

Clement had never paid attention to that `loner of a Moslem boy, who had
come here barely three months ago. He was unnoticed, plain simple. But now,
he was nine and a half, in full blossom, glowing with sexual
energy. Redouan though seemed oblivious to it or was unaware of it.

The white briefs stood in sharp contrast with his mocca coloured tan. The
tiny tufts of down near his bellybutton and lips were like gold dust
underscoring what he had in store for the future. But who wanted the future
when the present lay at your feet for grasping?

-`Circumcised? It echoed around him like in the Oliver Twist movie when
Mark Lester asked for food.

-`Quiet,' Clement said.

-`What is circumcision, I never heard of word like that?' He lied.

The boy looked around him now, clearly ashamed and afraid to say anything
more that could worsen his situation.

-`In my country, father, when you are seven, he said, while pulling at his
foreskin, they would cut you here,'

-`Really? Why?'

-`To make a man out of you, father.'

-`There are other ways to make a man out of you, the father replied.'

Everyone sniggered aloud, they had never heard of such nonsense.

-`Quiet, I said.'

Father Clement went on playing the ignorant priest.

-`Go on, what is it like then? Show us.'

-`No,' Redouan said. `It's haram, a sin.'

 `-`Says who?'

-`Allah and the holy Prophet, - praised be his name- himself, father.'

-`But you are not a Moslem, my dear. You never were. You are here with us
in this beautiful community that has taken care of you all these years
since you were a toddler. Forget about this, now take your briefs down and
show everyone else that you are built the same way as a good Catholic
Christian.'

Redouan put on a sulky face.

-`Come on; don't be so childish, you are a big boy. Aren't you proud of
what you have down there? I am sure other Moroccans are proud of it. I have
lived in your country for five years, my son.'

-`Really, father? Then you are a Moslem too?'

It seemed Clement had kindled his interest in him a bit.

-`No, I am not and neither are you. Being a Moroccan does not necessarily
mean that you have to be a Moslem. There are even Jewish Moroccans.'

As Clement reached out to grab the rim of his briefs he pulled back and ran
off.

-`Snatch him, boys quickly!'

A whole hoard of boys on the rampage had him back in no time.

-`Come on boys, help him get over with it.'

The kids had been waiting just for that. No need spurring them. Jeering and
piping kids were probably heard all the way to the ground floor where the
other priests were having their religious debates.

The kids jostled about and grabbed him by the ankles; another one lifted
him off the ground. Like a band of warriors hurling abuse at Redouan in
shrieking warrior-like sounds they tore down his frenchies in no
time. Detlev, Gunther and Dirk had claimed honour of it and threw them in
the air. Ten other kids fought for them and tore them apart.

Clement enjoyed it thoroughly like an emperor watching the lions devour the
first Christian martyrs in the arena. His cock was drooling in his
underwear.

Redouan was screaming like a butchered pig -- oops, pig is unclean for
Moslems, but then he isn't a Moslem, yet -at the top of his lungs which
went through marrow and bone.

-`Stop it, put him down, put him down, I said.'

There he was, streams of tears running over his lovely cheeks. His other,
even lovelier cheeks exposed to all of them were marked with red spots and
some scratches of all the naughty boy hands that were still poking
him. Some kids grinned and made obscene signs behind his back. Some of them
had seized the opportunity in the turmoil to grab at his whistle and tiny
nut bag.

-`What's that you are doing, Congo boy? He had shown his middle finger
going through a whole made by his right hand thumb and index finger.

-`Nothing father, nothing.'

-`OK. Then, let me not ask you again, or I send you off to father Brennan,
you hear?

God, this kid in front of him drove him nuts, just to look at him made him
nearly come.

-`O K. kids back to the dorm and put your pyjamas on, and no noise from now
on.'

Redouan, relieved that he could go, turned his back to father Clement,
wandering off to the sink to brush his teeth.

-`I didn't say you could go, Redouan. Come back here, let me see how well
you are built.'

Clements fingers strolled quickly over his strong slender Magrebine
shoulders all the way down to his hands. No kid was in sight. But to be
sure, Clement reinforced the threat of any reprisal for any of those caught
talking through the night.

-`If I hear anyone again, he will have to clean all the toilets and showers
during the night with a toothbrush, is that understood?'

-Yes father', they answered in choir.

Clement took his notebook and wrote down a few things.

-`So, this here should be cut?'

 He had it between thumb and index finger rolling it nicely with a little
squeeze.

The boy bit his upper lip. He had the kind of lips that made your skin
ripple, just by the look at them.

-`Only the foreskin, father.'

-`Oh, I see. How much of skin?'

-`Like this,' Redouan replied, stretching out an inch of skin that had the
whole of his glans wrapped up.

-`Wow, that's a lot, but I think it's really very tight, if you ask
me. Don't hurt yourself, son.'

Redouan smiled at this remark.

He had clearly lost his shyness and became a little more relaxed alone with
father Clement.

-`Hey, that's what I like, a broad smile on your face, like all the others
from your country I have known before you.'

-`You did, father?'

-`Sure, there was Hussein, a Muhammad, an Aslam, Yussef, strong boys just
like you and all well built here like you. I had to help them with their
foreskins too. They were not circumcised either. I didn't even know it
existed, see. But when I was small, my skin was so tight my father taught
me to roll it up and down a little bit, just to make it easier on
me. Because otherwise they would have to call the doctor and cut it, but
not cut it off like you want it. I think you should do the same, whenever
you think of it, push the skin down a bit so that your birdie head can see
the sun shine, hey"?

Redouan blushed.

-`Those boys I knew had no parents either, but they were Christians.' Here
he made up a lie. He had to get him into his camp.

-`But they didn't make a problem of it like you do. Maybe that's because
you grew up in Belgium, didn't you?

-`I have never been with another Moroccan boy only with a Moroccan man...'

He suddenly interrupted himself.

-`Go on, why you stop?'

-`It's nothing, father. Only a man who worked in the kitchen in the other
place in Antwerp before I came over here.'

-`Yes? So?'

Now, Clement had his hand on his buttocks that felt like nothing he had
felt before. Smooth as Chinese silk, an untouched virgin, at least he
thought he was. As he laid he has hand on his flank, Redouan grew goose
pimples at once.

His hand remained there while looking Redouan deeply in the eyes. He didn't
blink once. One could drown in these eyes. Pitch dark with lashes at least
half an inch fluttering over black onyx gems.

Redouan, felt cold now standing there. It was already past ten pm. What did
he want from him? He thought. He kept the smile on his face hoping that he
would be set free.

-`I think he's next,' Ramon murmured to the others.

-`I- think so too,' others replied softly.

`He's never done it before, I know. One can see.'

-`Who cares, we all have to go through it sooner or later besides, the
father is not that bad. I have grown used to it.'

-`Rather later than sooner and for him it won't be different,'Congo boy
said. `He is rather lucky he doesn't have to sit under a soutane for ages
like me.'

-`We should take care of him ourselves one night. I am sure he sucks well.'

-`Arabs only like to fuck, stupid, Detlev said. He will fuck us when he
grows up.'

-`Well, then we shouldn't let him grow too fast, Ramon sniggered. Let's
keep him under our thumb, agreed?'

-'Yeah, we can take turns,' Congo boy said.

-`I told you to stay quiet,' Father Clement roared.

The lights were still on at the showers.

-`Tell me about the man. What did he do? Was he a nice man?'

-`He was from Marrakech, where I was born and he spoke my dialect. He said
he liked me and wanted to be my father if I wanted him. I was the happiest
boy that day. We saw each other often. He used to buy me presents and
sweets. Though he didn't earn too much, he had no one to spend it on. He
had no misses.'

-How do you know?

-`Usually after 6 pm he picked me up on the playground during recess. He
had finished his kitchen chores and invited me up to his room. He lived by
himselfand was very alone, that's why he wanted a son like me,' he said.

-`I begged him to adopt me. He said he would, but never he said when.

One of those days it was so late and I fell a sleep real deep. He had
called the director of the Institute and asked for permission to have me
sleep over in his room. They said yes, but only for once.'

Clement sped up the frequency of caresses and had him stand between his
knees. The soutane was a major obstacle to snuggle up to the kid. He sat on
his favourite rotan chair, which was there only for the purpose of having
someone to sit on his knee when he wanted it. This was such an
occasion. The kids called it the `Confession Chair'.

-`Go on, go on, you can tell me everything you want.'

-`That's all father.'

-`How old was the man?'

-`Thirty-five maybe.'

-`Was he handsome like you?'

Redouan blushed again and smiled in a cheeky way. He liked the compliment.

`- He also called me handsome...'

-`I see...'

-` Was he strong, muscular?'

-`Was he circumcised too?'

-`I don't know father.'

-`Oh, of course he was circumcised, because he is grown man and a Moslem,
what a stupid question of mine, but...you mean you never saw him in his
underwear when he went to bed?'

-`No, fa...'

-`Ah ah, no lying here, Redouan, you know, Don Bosco himself, who loved
kids like the were his own - I am sure he did, Clement thought- did not
like lies here, never.'

Redouan became a little nervous and made a fist around his left thumb. He
always did that when he got nervous.

The thumb squirmed and spinned, as Redouan wrang his left hand as if it
were a nut. This could be psychological response of verbal expression of
sexual abuse, Clement thought. Good, proceed. He's standing with his back
against the wall, no way to get out of this story.

Clement had gone one step further. Both his hands rested on either bun.

And slightly squeezed the virgin skin. Even the holy Muhammad could not
have resisted this boy. Redouan felt locked in, trapped. He looked over his
shoulder at the dormitory, then back to the tiled floor at Clement's
sandals and at the black soutane that had inspired him so much with fear
when he had arrived here the first day.

-`Yes, but he had no underwear on, father. He was wearing a towel in bed.'

-`What? Then what happened?'

-`I don't know father. He gave me some chocolate milk before he went to bed
and let me watch TV.'

-`And what time did you go to bed? Did you sleep in his bed or another?'

I don't know father, really, but he only had one bed for two people. I
didn't mind sleeping with him. I actually asked him if I could sleep in the
same bed, because I was afraid of the dark. '

His hands moved towards his nipples. His thumbs rested on the ribcage and
then proceeded gliding down to the hips.

Redouan still had no idea what he was up to. But down below, his little
body responded exactly the way it was required to. Something in his
underbelly tickled strangely and made him feel hot.

-`I feel hot father, I feel strange. Can I go to bed now?'

-`Don't worry, boy, I have to make some additional notes about your
health. That's why I touch you here and there. I am a priest but I am also
a fine doctor for you little guys. You will see. Anytime you need me you
can come to my office on the fifth floor.

Did this man play with you? I mean some games before you went to bed.'

-`We played oxo, but I grew very tired. But not tired like usual. I fell
asleep in ten minutes, I believe. Next morning I woke up next to him.'

He was now in his underwear and smiling at me when I opened my eyes. He
kissed me on my forehead and held me for a while in his arms. I really
feeled he loved me.'

-`Felt, not feeled, Redouan. What were you wearing when you woke up?'

-`Nothing, father. I had pissed on myself in my dreams he said, therefore,
in the night he had to take my clothes off but I could not remember one
thing of it. But he hadn't lied to me because on the bed sheets under my
bum I saw a big yellow stain, and my bum was still wet of it and feeled,
err, felt a little sore too. He said I didn't have to be ashamed, that it
happened to many kids. One day he said, one day, they would cut me here and
I would be a big boy and never pee in bed again. He told me I had a fever
too and that I was really very hot. He said he'd sung some baby songs in
Moroccan for me that night to keep me happy, but I cannot remember of
anything like that. I just slept father.'

-`So, besides that what do you remember?'

-`It only felt sore...'

-`Where?'

-`H h here, father,' Redouan pointed at his posterior.

-`Why was that?'

-`I don't know father, but he never called a doctor because he was poor he
said. That's the reason I had fever he said because of the pain there.'

-`I see.'

-`Did you like him?'

-`Oh, yes sir, very much so, I wish I could see him again, but I probably
won't anymore.'

-`Did you ever speak to him after that night?'

-`Yes, but he was always in hurry, we met secretly in the
kitchen. Sometimes I thought he was afraid to see me. But why father? Why
would he be afraid of a little boy like me? He said the people didn't want
us to be together because they were jealous of our happiness and that other
kids would be jealous and unhappy too.

Could I see him some time soon?'

-`I will see if I can get in touch with him. Maybe we can invite him over
some time when you have a holiday, no?'

-`Oh, father, that would be great. All of a sudden the boy flung his arms
around father Clement.'

-`That's enough, ok, thank you, dear.'

-`I really wonder though why you had this pain. How long did that pain
last?'

-`Oh for weeks, father.'

-`And at the Institute there in Antwerp nobody cared to examine you.'

-`No, father. Only once. I had to lie on a doctor's table in the doctor's
room. They looked in my ears and nose and mouth like you do. But something
funny they did too.'

-`'What was that?'

-`He put one hand in a glove, with some cream on one finger and put it into
my bum.

It didn't hurt, it only itched for a while,' he giggled.

-`Oh god,' Clement thought, `this is more than I can handle tonight.'

He had manoeuvred Redouan on his right knee now.

-`You know what Redouan, I want a full examination of your body, to be sure
nothing is wrong with you. I wouldn't like you to get ill soon again in our
place. I only want healthy boys. Tomorrow at 6.30 pm after dinner, you come
to my office and I will see to it. Now, off to your floor and into your
bed, and be silent.'

Redouan, was relieved he was off the hook and truly happy that he might
meet his future father once more who might take him away from here. He
would have a home of his own.

Part 4

In the dorm one could here a pin drop, as soon as he passed through
corridor he heard all the kids whisper:' we'll get you, we'll get your ass
tomorrow.'

Clement picked up the torn briefs, breathed in deeply with his nose tucked
in his pocket and walked out of the bathroom back to his own room. This was
what he intended, but past the second dorm just around the corner near the
exit, he briefly stopped and looked through the window of dorm one.

There near the door slept Michel, a farmer's boy. A newcomer in this haven
of abandoned children, no one yet had paid any attention to this kid. He
was second best on the list. Frail and slender, he liked them. A boy with
asthma had become a burden to his parents who had to support another seven
small boys a little older than he was. The father on his deathbed had
begged him to do everything in his power to help the
urchins. Unfortunately, he could only take care of this kid; the others
were sent to government homes and were straight away adopted. Two had moved
to America and four in different countries in Europe. All efforts and
attempts to keep the boys together with father Clement proved
fruitless. Clement crouched stealthily next to the boy's cot. His eyes were
firmly closed, pearls of sweat shone on his brow and cheeks. He had a
silver necklace around his neck with a pendant of Mother Mary hanging from
it. He lifted the thick blanket and another one and rolled them down below
his knees. Just a white sheet was the only thing that separated them
because little Michel wore a classic nightshirt with underneath no
underwear at all. The kids on this floor always made fun of him because of
that nightshirt. Clement feared for the boy's mental survival but amazingly
enough, Michel had remained unperturbed. All his brothers had worn one and
his father.

In a way it was much healthier for his fine pair of balls hanging freely
without the strain of fabric, father thought. But the fact remained that it
had become out of place in this environment. Clement couldn't care less, in
fact it made things only easier for him. Though he had a budget for new
clothes for the boys, he refused to buy a pair of pyjamas for Michel. Now
he was going to find out why. His shirt looked liked a Pakistani kurta, the
collar lay wide open around his neck and one could see the defined but
fragile collarbones. The boy was dreaming heavily as he twitched his lips
continuously. Softly the priest hands went through his hair, smelled it,
glanced at the white dress that enveloped this tiny body in such a way that
one would forget this creature had a body. Clement eased away from the head
and moved his right hand secretly to the boy's most valuable
possession. His only family jewels, but what jewels...they were the most
precious things that made him such a prized and coveted object amongst the
brotherhood of clergymen. The poor farmer had not realized one minute in
his life, how rich he was with fourteen of these jewels ready to be shaped,
polished and transformed into human Kohinoors. Feverishly, Clement groped
himself in an urge of uncontrollable desire. It was all so palpably soft in
his hand. He felt the response immediately. The boy's gristle was
awakening. It grew steadily to the size of a miniature beanstalk. Now in
one swift studied move he drew the shirt back to his bellybutton.

-`God forgive,' Clement gulped, his throat was now totally dry of anxiety
and lust.

 His heart was racing. His fingers out on a journey of exploration petered
to the cleft below his tiny splendid wee nuts. They were humid of
perspiration; the father needn't add any spit to make the rubbing easier on
him. He eased in right away following the path that led to the boy's
heavenly gate. He had cut his nails just yesterday, so no kid could be hurt
while asleep and the chance of waking them up would surely be lessened. He
plugged his pink in it. God, the kid swallowed it up like nothing. Maybe a
second one could go along, so he pulled out the pink and went back with his
ring finger. The boy dreamed on. Suddenly, he moved and pulled up his left
leg against the wall. Oh, it was much easier now. He moved his head towards
the bean stalk and suckled on it. Another leg went up; so he had to move
away form the boys `little prick. His fingers still inside pushing in and
out, the whole damn thing was bathing in saliva.

 Then unexpectedly, he heard someone cough and a loud whispering of
dissenting voices.

Clement had to call off his entrepreneuring of Michel's pucker hole and
postpone it for another time.

He realized some boys of Redouan's dorm were on the prowl for
something. They surely thought he had gone.

-`You stop it there, both of you, he ordered in a muffled voice.

The boys panicked and quickly ran to their beds hiding under the
sheets. They were so afraid they nearly pissed themselves.

-`Shhh, du, ehr komt herhin, sheisse, er hat uns gesehn (shit he comes over
here, he's seen us).'

Father Clement did not say a word, just shone the torch in their faces and
ordered them with a beckoning index finger, which he had just slipped out
of Michel's rear rosebud. They had seen this happening to others before,
but now that it was their turn it felt different. They were caught together
and usually he just came into the dorm and picked out someone of his
liking. The boys came back always after four am. It was generally
Dieudonne, alias Congo boy. Clement had a broad range of choice and he only
wanted the best. On Sundays, it was Ramon, half Colombian half Flemish, but
he spoke only Flemish with a thick Spanish accent. He was only nine but was
lifted out of his bed five times a week and not only by Clement but also by
father Pierre, who was drooling all the time and couldn't keep his head
still when he talked. When he came back from father Brennan, he always
complained about how stingy the priest was. But to his best friend Marcos,
a Portuguese kid, who was the Monday kid, he used to complain about the
kisses he got from the father Pierre. The only thing he had to do was sit
under the man's soutane for fifteen minutes and stroke the geriatric balls,
until the man ejaculated a few drips of priestly sperm in the boy's
mouth. The father would play forever with the boy's little prick, kissing
it and speaking to it as if it were a person. One time the priest had asked
him to fuck him. Congo boy, whose real name meant ironically god-given, had
seen worse in other places. This man was seventy but begged to be fucked by
an eleven year old. He didn't think twice, as soon as the old man lay down
with a pillow tucked under his paunch, Congo boy made a cross and rubbed
his hands to make them hot then he put his three fingers in a Vaseline pot
that was always within reach on the bookshelf, thrust his fingers
altogether into the wrinkled old fart's bum.

-`Push, push,' the old man would encourage him.

'Push my darling, I am nearly there. I am nearly coming, aah, I am nearly
aaahh,' and that was it, he sagged through his knees and lay flat on the
sofa unable to move a rod muscle.

-`Take some chocolates and biscuits in the cupboard, sweetie and see you
next time. Remember, no word of this or I have you expelled from here to
the reform school.'

-` Yes, father.'

Congo boy would rather have had money but the miser would not give in.

With Clement it was different. Though this guy really had a mental problem
with sex. He wanted it but could not accept the thought he wanted it, so he
sublimated his lust into corporal punishments, which in those days were
still applicable. Although prohibited, the authorities turned a blind eye
to the custom, as they didn't have enough staff to keep the youngsters in
line. Besides, not one kid had ever dared to complain about it for fear of
angering the priests and losing a roof over their heads.

-`Father, please we were just having a leak.'

-`I can see that, yes. Follow me, immediately.'

The stairs were cold as ice. Otto and Lorenzo were on bare feet dribbling
behind the priest careful not to wake up the rest of the boys of the fourth
grade on the floor below.

The heavy door squeaked when pushed open. The guilt door handle shun in the
obscure imminent darkness.

The priest knew how to impress them. He only lit one desk lamp that shun on
the desk. His face was all they could see. The office was carpeted with
soft vinyl that felt pleasant now.

-`So, Otto, I see you found yourself a nice companion. What did you have in
mind with him? Were you going to ruin his soul or faith in the good lord,
or make a protestant out of him? `

-`No, father, I just stumbled upon him when I wanted to go for a shit.'

-`Go for a shit? What kind of indecent words do you dare to use in this
sacred office?

Move over here.'

Otto reluctantly made a move to his desk.

-` Here, I said, next to my chair.'

Otto stood there like a marble statue looking at Enzo.

-`And you Enzo, what's your excuse for being up so late?'

-`Same sir, err, father. I needed to piss. Then all of a sudden Otto caught
me, sorry, walked in the cubicle and wanted to leave soon, and then we
heard footsteps and we were afraid to get seen naked. We didn't know it was
you. We thought it was a burglar maybe because we knew it wasn't you. You
had left the floor hadn't you father?'

-`It's me who's asking the questions, Enzo.

Do you expect me to believe that?'

-`No, father...'

Enzo answered bowing his head looking at his own nakedness.

What a fool he had been. All the fourth graders had told him what happened
at the Office and that he was to be next shortly. He didn't believe them,
because he said, father Clement only fancied beautiful kids in their
puberty with well-developed genitals.

They had all been lying to him, he realized. He should have seen the lust
in his eyes when they stripped the young Moroccan. He just didn't want to
see it.

All the other kids were ashamed and had been the subject of his horny
imagination every time. None of them would dare or want to admit it; hence
that's why they said he was after big boys. Otto was thirteen and had never
been asked to come to the Office'. He was too mature already. No, Father
Clement only liked nine to twelve year olds. Fresh untouched kids, imberbe,
and girlish-boyish, androgynous types like him.

While Clement went on interrogating Enzo, his fingers ran up Detlev's
curved arse. Otto, couldn't believe this was happening to him either. All
the stories he'd heard were a fantasy thing, if you had asked him about it.

He decided not to be impressed or give in. But the flesh was weaker than he
figured it would be and gradually his penis started growing like a dragon
in thin air and rise above the level of the priest's office desk. Enzo had
not dared to look up for a long while. He muttered with a guilt-ridden
voice to any of the father's accusations that he was the reincarnation of
Devils powers.

-`You've lost your soul, Enzo, by chumming up with this protestant bastard
here next to me. Otto turned to the father and retorted:

-`I am not a bastard father.'

-`Then prove it. All Protestants are bastards, and so is Detlev. Just look
the size of your penis and you're only thirteen.'

Clement clearly revealed how jealous he was and frustrated about the size
of his own member.

On that moment Enzo had dared to look up and gazed with awe at Otto's.

-`Do you know what sacrifice is and what flagellation is, my son?'

-`No father,' Otto answered.

His fingers now held Otto's scrotum in a soft grip through his legs.

The father opened a broad drawer and took something out that looked like a
whip, but it was something more than that. It was a multistranded whip each
of them ended up in a in a not at the bottom end.

-`Please father, don't do this, I will be a good boy.'

-`You will be, I am sure. Move over to the corner next to Enzo.

Lorenzo get off that chair and move over to me first.'

Now Enzo stood next to the seated father who was finding it difficult to
suppress his arousal beneath his heavy soutane.

-`Sit here on my lap. You are such a pretty boy. Everyone talks about your
fine features, and I must admit you are one of a kind. Look at your
beautiful nipples, just like rosebuds waiting to be cherished by a
magnificent butterfly. How many rosebuds does a boy have, Lorenzo?'

-`Two, father,'

-`Wrong, my dear. Let me show you the third one, even more exciting than
those two here. Detlev, come over here and bend over. Show me your arse.'

Detlef parted his cheeks; the priest now put his finger quickly in his own
mouth and shoved it like a wasp's sting into the lad's anus.

-`Ouch, it hurts, father.'

-`Well, a wasp sting always hurts. The rosebuds on Lorenzo's chest are made
for butterflies like Detlev. Now, eyeing at Lorenzo who looked totally
stunned with what was happening right before his very eyes.

-`But the one down here is for a bumble bee like me.'

Now he started moving his finger in and out and.

-` Did Detlev do the same to you my dear?'

-`No father.'

-`You are lying.'

-`I know everything about you and Detlev, from my boys who told me in
details what he did with you.'

-`Go on show me what you did.'

He herded Enzo and Otto to the corner of the room. Otto stood with a raging
boner.

-`Ok Otto, I am waiting.'

-`But Father...'

-`No buts... you want to pass your exams this year?'

Otto said no more.

As Otto lubricated his rod the father had started undressing himself. His
flung his shoes off under the desk, the soutane followed suit with the same
negligence ended up crumpled on the floor and his black vest thrown over
the chair. Everything was black, Enzo thought. He and Otto had never seen a
priest nearly naked. It was weird, as if it were another person, the room
totally changed in atmosphere. This was a layman's room. The man in front
of them trembled and shook like a leaf. Something terrible came over
him. He made a cross, mumbled some prayers. Looked at us with piercing
eyes, then at his briefs. Put his hand on his crotch and squeezed it real
hard clenching his teeth. His whole face turned into an ugly
expression. This was a very unhappy man, Otto thought.

-`What are you looking at Otto, get on with it.'

He took the whip and in short but brisk movements started flogging his back
with it.

Clement couldn't hide his stiff swollen rod that stood triumphantly
throbbing in his black briefs. But looking at the tent it was making it
could not have been bigger than 4 inches long, that was even smaller than
Otto's who reached a respectable 4 and a half at his age. Enzo who was only
eleven and a half wasn't probably bigger than Clement's but surely not
smaller either.

Otto and Enzo forgot all about where they were. They just saw a man
suffering of pain for something they could give him for free.

He kept on whacking himself, the blood streaming between the shoulderblades
down his spine to the rim of his briefs.

Otto moved closer getting more excited by the look of this bleeding
priest. Tears welled up in Clement's eyes.

-`Please father, stop it, and don't cry.'

-`Shut up, you don't understand and do your business, finish off what you
were doing in the toilet.'

How did he know, the bastard, Otto thought? He went all red and looked at
the startled Enzo, who knew he was in trouble.

Otto ran to Enzo and got him naked in a minute.

-`Like this father?'

-`Move it, he hissed through his teeth. You don't need my instructions.'

This time, he pushed Enzo down, on all fours, which he enjoyed with glee.

-`A nutcase flogging his own skin to pulp and in front of me a most
beautiful boy prostrated his arse in the air,' Otto thought, `and I can
have my go.'

Enzo anticipated Detlev's probing fingers and pulled his cheeks wide
open. With his right cheek flat on the carpet he was watching
Clement. Maybe he could really well do it with him one day, he though. He
is not that ugly. I like his taut belly and hairy groin.

-`Ugh,' he uttered, feeling Otto plough inside.

-`Come-a, fast, Otto, quickly.'

-`You like it huh, little angel of mine. I told you were mine now. I'll
fight with everyone who'll touch you.'

-`Really? Do you really think so Otto?' Father Clement snapped.

`Get out of my way; you just started it up for me to continue. I just
wanted to see how well Enzo could take it. Congo boy hasn't told me any lie
I see. Too bad Detlev deflowered you first. But I now I have no more qualms
or worries that I could hurt you, since you do it like a pro, Enzo.'

-`Pull that pillow over here, and stuck it under your arse Enzo. On your
back, easy, yes. Here we go. Oh, my dear Enzo how I dreamed of this, I have
a crush on you ever since you set foot here.'

Otto moved on all fours towards the priest who was pointing at his own
explosive bulge in his frenchies.

Otto didn't need any words whatsoever. His tiny fingers released the
bonking thing out of its cotton cage and started to soothe it. Should he
pity the man who had such a small thing? That couldn't hurt. Was that's why
he was so severe with us?

-`Kiss it, Otto, kiss it, I beg you, prepare me for the biggest lovemaking
ever.'

He did more than was asked for. Otto started to suck on it, embrace it with
a love and a passion Clement had prayed for. Enzo learned a lot from them,
just watching.

-`Oh, this is grand, you are a little son of a bitch, you don't mind me
saying that son, do you?'

-`No Father, I like it, you are right I am a son of bitch.'

-`This very minute I want you to move your ass this way!'

-`Yes, father.'

-`Behind me.'

He threw away the whip and got down on his knees.

-`Put your fingers up my arse, real hard and fast, have no mercy on me and
god will reward you in paradise, please, please I beg you.'

-`Why don't you lie down on your side father, we'll take care of you.'

-`No, you leave Enzo out of it; I will be his guardian angel, though after
seeing this he is no longer an innocent child anymore.'

Now he was jerking at his own veined rubbery cock and Otto breaking in from
behind. How he moaned, that father, like a housewife who hadn't had sex for
months. Fortunately, the walls were soundproof.

All of a sudden he turned round groped Enzo who was still lying on his back
subsequently lifting his legs and positioning his trembling rod in Enzo's
rosebud. He climbed the tiny body like a sex-starved predator. The victim
as a brave warrior succumbed to it with Rital pride uttering no sound of
pain, instead he piped: `si.'

In one week he would celebrate his twelve years and he was no longer a
virgin. In Italy, his own father would have taken him to the whores, as to
make a man out of him. What a disappointment he would have been. His
thoughts were brought to a stand still, when Clement squeezed his nipples
real hard whilst releasing his load in the tiny sanctum sanctorium of
boyhood. The priest lay there for a while, knocked-out. It had not hurt at
all. Otto understood why he had been able to fuck so many little boys. The
man had a child's size.

-`Are you all right, father?' Otto asked, now touching his deflated rod.

-`Yes, my holy son of a devil. Let me kiss you, come here.'

-`Ooooooh,' Otto moaned,

-`Quick, over here, Otto.'

Otto aimed on his knees at Clement's approaching mouth that got hold of it
just in time when squirts of white cream sprayed his face. The squirting
seemed to last forever. Clements face was bedecked with white sticky
strands from nostril to the roof of his mouth, licking and lapping it while
laughing hysterically.

Enzo hadn't wasted any of the substance. He envied both. He lay there alone
still watching them. He had nearly climaxed when the priest came and left
him. Enzo was stroking himself softly over his hard boyhood and thought of
Detlev.

-`Next time, Enzo, you come alone, and you'll have a good time; now go back
to your beds, you two.'

The boys and the man then finally parted. Sneaking back to the dorm, still
naked. The lights went on.

Then an immense laughter filled the nightly silence.

Detlev threw the sheets off him and became pale white when he saw Lorenzo
come in with Otto. He was jealous.

-`Where have you been,' he hissed at Enzo.

 `Did he fuck you?'

Who?

-`The priest.'

-`No.'

-`Liar.'

This was the second time somebody called him a liar.

`You go with everyone now. I taught you everything. I loved you so much.'

He didn't care anymore that everyone heard that. He was deeply hurt and
felt abandoned.

Enzo said nothing, but one tear rolled down his left cheek.

Otto had closed his eyes and laughed inside. He had had a good time and
maybe, just maybe he could become real friends with father Clement. Still,
he was puzzled as to why he didn't take on Enzo, who was surely more
handsome than he was, he figured.

Enzo was about to see Otto, when Clement barged in with a fake angry
expression on his face.

-`Have you no shame?

The priest thundered.

-`Detlev and Lorenzo, I know you have been out of the dorm, god forbids,
but one more time and you will be punished severely. This time I have mercy
because I am in a good mood, on the double into your beds, you two.'

Clement had run after them to save his and their faces. Their was no need
for the other kids to know he had sex with them no matter what the rumours
were between him and other kids. Enzo had to stay a secret. The other two
secrets, soon to come, were of course, Redouan and Michel.

-`You boys, back into bed, not one word is to be heard.'

The bell rang, it was 6 am. A 4th grader was standing gleefully next to the
black robed father Pierre.  He was dressed only in shorts and a cotton
shirt with short sleeves and he held the priest's hand. It was Alain Nuyt,
the Walloon.

What was going on here? Had Alain told the priest something about someone?
Enzo and Otto couldn't believe it but they threw him a dirty glance of
distrust all the same. Then the little boy pointed at Redouan.

Father Pierre summoned him to his office.

-`Do you know this kid, Redouan?'

-`No father.'

-`You are a liar, Redouan.'

Redouan let his head hang and started to sob.

-`It was him who started it.'

-`What did he do?'

-`He asked me to put my hand in his pocket because he had something
special.'

-`So?'

-`The pocket inside had no bottom and I felt his zizi.'

The father laughed.

-`Is that all?'

-`Yes father.'

 Redouan was flabbergasted at the cleric's response.

-`You can go now.'

The other boy stayed behind.

-`So, you get 100 franks now, but before you get your reward you must sit
under here and do what you can do so well.'

-`Yes, father.'

The boy slender and smooth skinned like a dolphin stepped out of his shorts
and disappeared under the black robe.

The strategy was working. Pierre pondered. If we could have some daily
reports and use it against Redouan, we could easily manipulate him and the
reports would only prove that this boy was a mentally disturbed depraved
child who was corrupting younger children. A young predator we had to take
care of. And the social assistant and the Psychologist had given ample
proof of it and given us carte blanche to solve it our way and put him on
the right track. And so we will.

-`A little harder my son, make it wetter here. I don't feel so much
there. Here is better, yes, that's right.'

God. I have to change this boy with someone else, it becomes so dull, and
he is no good at it , he thought. But we are running short of willing spies
here. And it takes so much of precious time to make them comply with our
demands.

But, in the long run Redouan would do everything with us.

-`Ok, dear, five more minutes. Is the popsicle tasty?'

-`Delicious, father, it tastes better every time. `

-`Ooooh, it comes, it comes.'

The kid lapped it all, and the father sighed orgastically. He had not spilt
a drop on the floor. Happy with the money, little jean gave him a kiss on
the coarse old cheek and left.

The reports ?this was the 5th already in a week, piled up on Clements desk.

But Clement had a soft spot for him. `Let's take on Redouan tonight before
he loses his virginity to Detlev, Otto or any other boy predator,' he
thought.

Part 5

It was nearly six pm. Most of the other kids were doing their homework or
playing soccer. At eight they had to shower. So seven it was when he heard
a knock on the door.

-`Come in.'

-`Good evening father.'

-`Good evening, Redouan.'

-`Come closer and take a seat here.'

Redouan was dressed in a used pair of shorts, which stood wide open when he
sat.

Clement felt a surge of heat going through his loins and instinctively
squeezed his thighs together.

He had for this occasion arranged for a clinic bed behind a curtain that
separated his office from the desk as in a doctor's office. The boy was
impressed with the many degrees that were displayed on the wall.

-`So, let me see. You felt feverish quite often in the other orphanage,
didn't you?'

-`No, only once sir, at Najem's house, remember,'

-`Yes, I know, but yesterday you also complained about heat as well'

-`Yes, father, but I don't know why I feel like this. Sometimes when I do
sports like climbing ropes at gym class I feel same, right down my belly.'

-`Really?'

-`Why don't we examine this and find out what's really wrong.'

Clement stood up and beckoned him to the' operating Theatre'

He had chosen for a gold satin curtain. There stood a table on wheels.

-`Let me pull you up here.'

He grabbed the boy and put him well in the middle of the bed.

-`Remove your shirt, Redouan... and your shorts.'

Redouan hesitated at first, but after seeing the degrees on the wall, he
thought that everything was ok with father Clement.

-`Lie down on your back and spread your legs a little.'

The boy did as he was told.

Now close your eyes and take a deep breath.

While he inhaled, Clement ran his fingers spider like over his legs sides,
then circling around the bellybutton; moving inwards to the inner thighs.

-`How does that feel?'

-`Ticklish,' Redouan giggled.

-`No pain?'

-`No father.'

-`Let me see, you say you felt pain here. Clement pointed out, and then
laid his finger softly on his anus. Is that correct?'

-`Yes, father.'

-`Why do you think that is?'

-`Dunno, father.'

-`And you had strange feelings lately around here?'

 Now he touched the spot between the arsehole and his tiny nuts.'

-`Yes father.'

-`Only with a rope?'

-`Or when I sit on a swing or on a bicycle, father.'

-`Mmmh.'

-`Ok. Let's do a test. Imagine that my arm is a rope. Could you swing your
legs around it the way you'd climb a rope?'

-`I think so.'

The priest went near the foot end put his arm on his elbow between his legs
about one foot from the boys bum as if were going to do some
weightlifting. Then lowered it with his knuckles resting on his belly
button.

-`Ok, Now squeeze my arm with your legs tightly and try to climb my arm.'

This went on for about ten minutes, unabated. The boy's eyes were glowing.

-`What do you feel?'

-` Oh, father, the same, I get so warm down here, it tickles me everywhere,
really.'

-`Ok, do it again. We must find out why that happens. Maybe you are getting
ill.

You had the same feeling with Najem that man, before you went to bed with
him, I mean before you drank that hot chocolate milk?'

-`Yes, father but, it was when I sat on his knee, when he sang songs for
me. I squeezed my thighs real hard against his leg because he was playing
horse, his knee was the horse.'

Clement went back to the bedside, and saw a real stiff little mickey in
that underwear.

Redouan saw what he was looking at and became embarrassed. He quickly put
his hands on top of his crotch.

-`Don't worry boy, there is no shame for this. This happens to everyone at
some time.

Really father?'

-`Maybe, you are right and you should be circumcised. Let me have a look at
it again.'

Redouan wobbled his head.

-`Why not? Are you afraid of me?'

-`No father, but it's haram, Najem said.'

-`Jesus,'he thought,' I got to get him over this barrier of shame.'

-`Ok. If you don't show me, I cannot help you and the pain will come back,
worse than before. I bet on it.'

Redouan set big eyes and got terrified.

Then slowly without another insistence of father Clement, he stripped the
briefs down to his feet.

It was a magnificent site to behold, Clement thought. Never had he seen
anything so taunting as this little prick nearly bursting out of its tight
foreskin. It was begging to be hugged and savoured. The boy's eyelashes
thrilled when he looked at his own boy's radiant stick.

Clement peeled the skin halfway the glans where it got stuck. A proof he
hasn't played with it, Clement pondered.

-`Ok. I have to do what the doctor did with you before, only I have no
glove here.'

Redouan nodded.

-`Get up and get on your fours like a little puppy, look straight ahead and
look into Mother Mary's eyes in front of you. Can you see her picture
there? Don't look back at me because she will be angry for it. You hear?'

-`Yes', father. `

Clement suckled his finger and aimed for the beautiful groove. His small
ochre coloured scrotum was neatly hanging between the thighs. The boy still
had a hard on. Did he really know nothing about sex at all? Hardly
believable, all Moroccans now from birth what's the use of that
joystick. But then he hadn't grow up there and was after all a real orphan
and from probably prudish wealthy parents.

-`Lower your chest to the bed and your head to but keep looking at the
Virgin. Just keep your bottom in the air as if you were a thirsty doggy
drinking water from a bowl. Can you do that, my son?'

-`Yes, father.'

Now the cheeks parted on their own accord and the whole arsehole was
visible for Clement. The finger darted inside. He probed and probed, turned
and twisted.

-`Ouch, ouch,' Redouan squirmed, but didn't look back like he was told.

-`Does it hurt my son?'

-`Only a little.'

-`The same pain as when you came back from Najem?'

-`No, father, that was much more painful.'

Now he put two fingers in but this time he had managed to lubricate it with
Vaseline.

It went in better and faster, but the boys was really too tight. He
squirmed even more, and kept whinging about the pain.

-`Same pain, Redouan?'

-`Nearly, but I don't know father. Can we stop?'

Clement withdrew both fingers, rapidly thinking of the next move and
strategy to keep the kid in his `Office'. Clearly, the boy needed time
before he could ever have something with him. On the other hand, just the
thought of his own little bugger getting squeezed so tightly up his arse
made him think twice about loosening it up.

A boy like this who didn't even notice that Clement was fondling him,
sexualising his body and enjoying playing with his genitals, was a rarity
and had to be explored to the very end of it.

The anus had to be widened artificially, the sphincter becoming more
elastic and tolerant in receiving big objects, lest the pain would be less
excruciating. He would have to resort to the ancient Chinese technology of
those emperors who had their future catamites progressively trained for the
sex they wanted with them. Bardaj boys in the ages of five, six and up had
to sit for hours on wooden pegs to enlarge the rectum. It is also known
that babies have a very elastic sphincter, which becomes tighter as they
get older. The Chinese catamites were put on fatter pegs when their anus
had grown used to a certain size. So, in the long run they were able to
receive any size of phallus up their bottom, feeling no pain whatsoever.

Clement had a case of phallic looking ivory pegs of different shapes. He
had brought them back from Siam, years ago, and had used them on himself
for his own pleasure. Now was the time to test their utility with
Redouan. He figured if he had one in his butt hole for the whole night,
every night, it would certainly widen the possibility of a satisfactory
loss of the boy's virginity.

Of course, he could not wait that long and since the boy had already
survived and overcome the pain Najem had inflicted on him in the past, ?
which raised the capital question: was he still virgin? - Whom he still
considered a nice man and whom he wanted to be his dad. Then why could he
not try the same tonight?

He still had half of a Rohypnol, which could be digested in a minute with
chocolate milk.

The boy would sleep - at the very least- eight hours. So, Clement could
still enjoy the shower rituals with the other kids.

`-`Redouan?'

-`Yes, father?'

-`You may have to come here everyday for a check up, because I want to find
out and cure you. Tonight you will sleep on this bed, but you have to put
one of these in your little butt hole every night for a year. This comes
from a country far away from here. They use it for kids of your age who
complain about similar butt pain. Some kids have it forever and for some
kids it goes away after one month or half a year. It has special magic as
it is made of elephant tusks. I also have some that vibrate, when inside it
tickles you a bit, but you get used to that.

So, now I get you some milk, just like your friend did for you and you can
go to sleep whenever you feel like it. I also have some comic books here in
case you want to read. I suppose you could be bored with on old man like
me.'

-`No father I am not bored, but I am afraid of those things in my
butt...hole.'

-`They don't hurt really, it's for your own good.'

The boy sat there quietly looking at Jesus and Mary. He didn't like Jesus
on the cross. A dying man with thorn crown, how could they like him at all?
Najem had told him that Jesus like Muhammad was a prophet too, but here
they said he was god's son. Who was right, who was lying? Father Clement
was not allowed to lie or he would end up in hell. So, probably he was
speaking the truth about those healing things he would put in his butt
hole. He was only a little boy and had still a lot to learn. Father Clement
wasn't that bad. He liked it when he tickled him near his nipples and near
his butt hole.

The door flung wide open and there stood Clement with chocolate milk in his
hand.

While Redouan was browsing through the comics, Clement saw his chance clean
to drop the sleeping pill in the glass.

-`Here drink it, it will take the pain away.'

Redouan glanced at him in a way that Clement mistakenly interpreted as a
sign of lust.

For the first time Redouan felt at home the way he felt at Najem's. He had
forgotten about the dorm and the showers.

-`Ok. Redouan, I leave you here on your own now, I'll be back in half an
hour after I put the rest to bed. Don't touch anything but the comics;
deal?'

-`Yes Father.'

Clement had no qualms whatsoever about leaving this kid there on his
own. He knew he wouldn't touch a thing.

At the showers he enjoyed as usual the inspection of various glistening
bodies.

-`Enzo, what's up? You look so tired. Too much soccer?'

-`Yes father.'

Enzo could not see him as a father anymore after last night. When he saw
him, he remembered the blood and Otto squirting sperm on his face.

He smiled, the father smiled back. They both had a secret to share.

Detlev stood near the washbasin watching the whole scene and wondered what
they were talking about.

Enzo stood there naked, unabashed, because Clement had seen him naked
already in his room, hadn't he?

-`You are such a gorgeous boy, `Clement whispered in his ear. `I know
everything about you, everything.'

Then he grinned again and shooed him of with a slap on the butt.

-`Off to your bed, and put your pyjamas on. Enzo's sleek black hair hung
glittering over his wet cheeks. He had these piercing eyes that would leave
you wondering whether they sending out sexual messages. The other boys were
jealous of the attention he got from the father.

-`Where is Redouan,' the whisper went from bed to bed, from dorm to dorm.

But no one knew.

Father Clement gave them the answer before he switched off the lights.

-`Redouan is not feeling well these days and will remain in the infirmary
tonight and maybe tomorrow too. So, don't pester him in the morning in
class with annoying questions. He is really not well and needs to be left
alone. Is that understood.'

-'Yes father.'

-`Ok, sleep tight and sweet dreams'.

-`Goodnight father.'

-`Damn,' they said when he was gone.

 `We can't take him on now, he's all Clement's, the little bed peeer',
Congo boy said.

`So what, Otto replied, when he's all his after tonight, we can still take
or turns on him. He'll be our second hand fucking doll.'

-`That was a cool phrase,' Congo boy retorted and laughed his head off.

-`But having said that, Otto continued, I don't see why we'd have to wait
for that a cappuccino stake when we have an espresso over here. Now, grab
him boys.'

Everyone jumped out of the beds leaping at Congo boy. The beautiful fondant
chocolate coloured skin was scraped and pinched by a tenfold of hands. In a
split second he was laid out and pegged down on the cold floor
tiles. Sprawled out like a skinned rabbit, Congo boy let it
happen. Resistance was futile; he had seen it with others. Now it was his
turn. But for safety reasons Detlev kept his mouth gagged with his hands.

-`Who hasn't had a go this week?'

Francis Abs stuck up his hand but was ignored. He was a chubby kid with a
penis the size of a peanut.

But, to everyone's surprise, Enzo came forward.

-`I,' he said, `it's my turn. I ghave-a never fuc-ked anyone, but-a
everyone fuc

ked me, so I-a was not- a boy anymore, but-a a woman. This stupid cunt here
has told-a everything to the fathers, he is a snitch-a, a traitor. I-a will
take my-a pleasure out-a on him. Turn ghim on ghis back-a and-a spread-a
his-a legs and-a arsehole very wide-a open.'

Gee, this was going to be a feast for the eye, all the onlookers were hard
or jerking off by now.

-`All of-a you spit-a in his-a arsehole.'

Enzo's hand frictioned his finger into what seemed a most beautiful pinkish
gateway of bliss.

-'Black-a and-a pink-a flesh, what-a a sight-a and-a fun for me,' Enzo
whispered to the bystanders.

As he lowered himself into it, everyone started jerking off faster and
whispering in high pitched voices:

-`go go go!'

Enzo blushed with excitement, this was the first boy he could plug into and
what a pleasure it was. He really felt like a man being on top of the
world. As he came and fell over Congo boy, the kids picked him up and
carried him as a hero through the aisle.

That night, Enzo had regained the respect from all the boys in the dorm, in
so much that within a week; he was back to dating Detlev and even fucking
him and Otto.





Part 5



When father Clement opened his door he saw Redouan who had passed out on
the carpet, sleeping very deeply. One Tintin book in his hand. The clever
little son of a b... had put all his clothes on. Maybe he was feeling cold
or perhaps did he not feel comfortable with Allah's laws of sin.

He was light as a feather. Father kissed him on the lips and stroke through
his curly hair. Now that he was there in his own room, alone and no
witnesses, he felt so happy and horny. It was boiling in his underbelly and
his small rod went sky-high just feeling the boy in his arms. He rocked him
for a while, while surreptitiously fondling him at his crotch. On the
doctors bed where he was put Clement silently rid him of all the clothes he
had.

He went round the bed sniffing him from side to side. He lifted his arms
and lapped his armpits like a hungry wolf. Lapped his whole body `till it
was shining with saliva.

His tongue went fast snaking to his groin. The little balls sat tightly
locked up in an equally small bag that was totally wrinkled up probably
because it felt cold in the room. His nose was near the little arsehole
rubbing it against the perineum. That smell of boys sweat there, one had no
words for this peculiar smell. Lap lap lap, he went. Everything shone like
he had just taken a swim. Father took off his soutane and all he wore
underneath. He stood stark naked his tiny boner thrilling with fever.

-`Oh lord, pray for me because I am going to take this child away from you.

I will make a human out of it, a man who will learn how to love a make love
but foremost how to love his own flesh and body. Amen.'

The sleeping Redouan was carried off to bed in Clement's arms. It looked
like a painting of the dying Christ in the arms of Mary. Only he was much
younger and many times prettier.

The night was young and so was Redouan. As he prepared the boy with more
caresses and kisses on the nipples and his little mickey, one could see the
pre-come oozing from his own rod.

Slowly he suckled on the fleshy lollypop that despite the boy's unnatural
coma was hardening into human steel.

He could do anything now and that's what Clement did. His rod soaked in
Vaseline made headway to innocent portal of boyhood.

Ram he did, his rod was small but certainly 2 inches in diameter. The
priest had no use for condoms, as he never went with whores so the pleasure
was genuine and the feeling real all the same. He romped and humped and the
kid did not wake up.

At last he came, four five shots of sperm would remain in Redouan's sacred
domain.

He rubbed the leaking liquid over the young scrotum and then fell over him.

Gasping for air. Still panting, he got out of bed and put his briefs and
vest on. The carried the boy to the doctors bed and covered him with a
blanket.

He kissed him.

-`Goodnight, my little Arab fuck god.'

Clement woke up with a bang of noise only to see that Redouan had rolled of
the bed and hurt himself on his bum. He was crying like only children can
cry until Clement took him on his lap and consoled him with kisses. The
crying stopped only to whinge about the pain here' and there'

-`You see, I told you it would come back. Clement put the boy on his feet
didn't even bother to ask if he would let him look. He simply tore down his
shorts and undies and put his finger in the cleft asking:

-`here?'

-`Yes father.'

Redouan was bewildered and dumbfound that he had not resisted to showing
his nakedness.

-`Ok, lie down for a while. I get some cream and rub it lightly there.

Just lie down here on the carpet and close your eyes. Pull your legs up,
can you keep them to your chest. Easy, like that, yes. Wait, here comes the
cream. Look, it's nothing special. Ok, here it comes.'

He had a full finger of Vaseline and rubbed slowly around the anus and
subsequently he stuck it up his bum again a few times.

Pain could only be countered with pain to make it stop, was the theory.

As he was doing so his own boner got alive as well and he didn't know what
to do about it.  He could only ask for the boy to turn back on his elbows
with his butt in the air.

-`Look at Mary now, just like yesterday. I will now get these healing
things for you to try out now. Hang in there, just a sec.'

There, he settled the black case with an array of little white pegs, the
smallest was 3 inches and half an inch in diameter, the one next to it was
three and half 1 inch diameter, the biggest one was 9 inches which came in
1 inch diameter and another one in a half and 2 inches diameter.

He slid the five inches in with a one-inch in diameter. It was magic to see
that white one go into the darkcoloured butt of his.

-`Does it hurt you?'

-`No, father, it's ok. `

Father slid it in and out but the kid said he had to go to the toilet. A
normal reaction when one hasn't learned yet to differentiate shitting from
fucking.

-`Ok, I try a softer one now, you will feel the difference. Ok.'

-`Yes father.'

-`But, don't look around.'

-`No father.'

Clements frenchies were down to his knees; he put one hand on the left
buttock opening the sphincter better.

-`Spread your legs more, you hear,'

-`Yes, father.'

Steadily he moved in and started pumping,

-`How does it feel, son?'

-`Much better father, is it the same plug?'

-`No, this one is made in Belgium, but it's a secret, I cannot show you
otherwise it will lose its magic, that's why you cannot ever look at it.'

-`Ok.'

-`But, why are you making funny noises?'

-`These are special prayers that go with the healing, Redouan. You can do
the same just listen to me and repeat it after me.'

So said, so done. Redouan was quickly getting the knack of it and Clement
got all the more excited. As he pumped and pumped he was near to an orgasm
and he couldn't let out a scream because that surely would make the boy
turn around and look at him.

He made it biting his lips and withdrew, muted form the boys' wonderful
tight little arse. To be sure that he had the time to clean himself he'd
put back the ivory one pushing it in and out. The boy had an erection
again, which proved how healthy he was.

His own boner gone flaccid and back in the briefs, he told the boy to look
at him and get dressed.

-`Now, you go to classroom after you've taken breakfast and don't tell the
kids about these plugs because they will lose the magic. You this one with
you and this pot of Vaseline put it in your school bag and before you go to
have your siesta you go to the bathroom and shove this one in your arsehole
the way I did. You keep it in there for as long as the siesta lasts. In the
evening after shower you go to bed with the same plug up there. I will come
and check in the night when everyone sleeps. If you have pain, I will take
you to my room where you will sleep again like last night and you can read
your favourite Tintins and drink chocolate milk.'

-' Oh, thank you so much, father.' Redouan snuggled up to Clement, who
could not resist pulling him up and kissing him on his forehead.

Just imagine the sight of a priest in his frenchies, with a naked nine year
old in his arms.

-' Off you go, see you tonight.`

-' Maybe I should get Detlev involved with that Enzo, he thought. Or Enzo
with Redouan, they are both so innocently sexless and yet, so sexy,
provocative and perverted. Enzo is a little pervert, for sure, but maybe
Redouan might be one too. Maybe just maybe, Redouan is lying and really had
sex with that Najem, or did he rape him in his sleep?'

With these thoughts Father Clement fell asleep. Visons of what he could do
next were stalking his priestly dreams. And only God knew what the future
would bring for him.

End