He had been found naked, born for a few hours, on a newspaper on the stairs of the church of Saint Simon, therefore he was christened Simon. Not knowing his family name, as the newspaper was the "Canard Enchaine", they wrote Canard.
Often Simon thought he had been lucky not to have been abandoned on the stairs of Saint Plotin church and on a copy of the "Bulletin Litteraire" or else his name would have been Plotin Bulletin...
He had been brought to the orphanage of the Sisters of the Petit Enfant Jesus, where he remained until he was eleven. Then being too old, and not having been adopted, he was moved to the National Orphanage. To Simon this was not a big change, besides that, here, instead of the sisters, there were men superintendents and instead of being about twenty brats, there were around fifty adolescents between his age and eighteen. Instead of being an old readapted villa, here was a kind of grey, ugly barrack-like building. But for the most part the same food, discipline and clothes scraped together from public charity.
For the first year, the newcomers were kept in the "small ward" or observation division. There were just four boys when he arrived. A flat year, nothing good, nothing bad. Why they had to be observed, he couldn't really understand. He was longing to be admitted to the big house - there amongst the many he thought perhaps he could even find a friend. He looked through the mesh fence at them all playing with balls, strolling or chatting in small groups, he heard them laughing, he envied them. Instead the four in the small ward seemed morose, closed, silent.
Finally, at twelve, he moved to the big house with all the others. A superintendent, a man around thirty with a droopy moustache and small round glasses, took him to his dormitory, showed him his bed and introduced him to the others.
"This is Simon Canard. From now on he will be your roommate. Explain to him the rules and see that he doesn't stir up trouble. This is Vincent the dormitory chief. You have to obey him in all things, understood?"
"Yes, Sir" Simon said obediently, studying the chief - he was a sixteen year old boy with strong features, who was looking at him in a self-important manner. Simon had learned when he was a baby to say "Yes sister" and now he just changed to "Yes sir". To obey is the best way not to have problems. Grown up people seem to really appreciate those who obey.
When the superintendent left, Vincent explained the dormitory, house rules, timetable and several other matters. Simon had a talent, a great memory, so he was able to memorize all that was said. He then showed him the house, from the refectory to the showers, toilets, recreation room and so forth.
Lunchtime came and, with the others he took his mess-tin and queued for his food. While he was eating, he studied his companions - they seemed on average likeable. Vincent seemed respected, amongst the dormitory chiefs even though he was one of the youngest. He had brisk, determined manners and a hard way of looking.
After lunch, Vincent made a sign to Simon.
"Come." he said setting out striding rapidly. He took him into a room filled with huge closets, and in a corner a heap of mattresses.
"This is the wardrobe. Here only we chiefs, and a boy we choose to help us, can enter. Understood? You alone or with other boys are never to enter here."
"I have to help you?" Simon asked.
"Yes, sure. Pull mine out."
"Your... what?" the kid asked, not understanding.
"My cock, dick, willy, however you fucking call it?" the chief said, looking annoyed.
Simon knew what a willy was. He was somewhat amazed by the request. He drew nearer the chief and started to unbutton his fly. Who knows why he wanted his willy pulled out there in the wardrobe? But he knew never to question the orders of the chief.
When he pulled it out, he looked at it in hypnotized fascination - he had never seen one so big especially one surrounded by thick brown hairs. At the villa, amongst themselves, hiding from the sisters they showed their willies to each other, Simon's was one of the biggest, at least when he left, but he didn't have hairs. Another thing amazed him - now that he had pulled it out, it was growing and rising. His too at times rose, but it remained more or less the same size.
"Lick it!" commanded Vincent.
Simon looked at him - he was serious. Simon bent over and licked it with his tongue. What a weird request. But the chief wanted it, so there must be a reason.
"What are you doing? Continue to lick it, lick it well, all of it, don't stop, idiot!"
Simon again obeyed. Vincent's tool throbbed and darted like a fish out of water finally escaping him, so he took it in his hand to hold it still and resumed licking. He felt a pleasurable sensation having it in his hand, a kind of living and warm little eel, feeling it shudder on his tongue was an agreeable sensation. But why had the chief asked him to do such a weird thing? What was the sense? What aim? Simon really couldn't understand.
After a while Vincent gave him a new order. "Now, suck it. Take it inside your mouth and suck... Don't touch it with your teeth, idiot. Now move your tongue. So... Move your head this way, while you suck." he said taking Simon's head in his hands and moving it back and forth.
Simon was uncomfortable and wondered how long it would last. Feeling that piece of flesh inside his mouth was funny, even agreeable, but tiring. He noticed a change in Vincent, he was breathing harder, like someone who ran, and the big willy was throbbing more than before.
"I'm coming..." His voice was different.
Simon stopped "Where?"
"In your mouth, idiot... Suck! Don't stop unless you want to cop a beating... Suck."
"Come in my mouth? What the hell do you mean? I can't understand. Speak French!"
"In a while a white milk will come out of my cock, you have to drink it all. Is that clear?"
"Milk? From there comes out piss..." The kid was worried and disgusted at the idea.
"No, prick-head! It comes out as a white cream. Now suck and don't try to stop again... Hurry up!"
Simon resumed sucking, hesitantly. He had never heard of milk or cream coming from there. Was perhaps Vincent different from other boys? He seemed normal apart from a willy of giant size. Anyway he could just obey and wait and see, and hope he didn't lie.
He started to suck with a will. The "cock" as Vincent called it, started again to throb and dart, amusing Simon as, besides darting, it appeared to get even bigger and harder. Vincent was panting as if he was ill, but Simon didn't dare stop.
The chief seized his head and pushed his cock down to his throat, Simon felt something spurting out of it, jets that dripped straight down his throat causing him to gag as it tickled his sensitive mucosa.
When Vincent was finished, he let him go. Simon gazed worriedly at the pole - on the tip, shining from his saliva, was what appeared to be a white opalescent pearl - no, that was not piss, thought a relieved kid.
"Lick it. Clean it well!" The chief ordered.
Simon obeyed, just a little hesitant. He felt the taste of what the chief had poured down his throat - it was a taste he'd never tasted before, not bad, not good. It was not milk or cream, for sure, but also certainly not what he had feared...
"What's that?" he asked, more to himself than to Vincent.
"It's the skim, the jism, what comes out when you shoot. But don't you know anything? Don't you shoot yet?" said Vincent as he put his cock back into his underpants and buttoning his trousers.
"No, I never saw anything like that."
"Don't you wank?"
"What?"
"Don't you beat off? Don't you... God, were you born yesterday? Pull it out; yours." he said with a superior air.
Simon complied. Vincent had a little smile when he saw its size.
He took it in his hand and started to masturbate him: "This is called wanking, and when you are old enough, doing this will be really pleasurable, and when it starts shooting jism, the white milk, it means you are starting to be a man."
Simon thought that what was happening to him was agreeable, and when Vincent stopped he almost regretted.
"Put it back, now. So, what I did to you is called wanking. What you did to me is called a blow job, with swallowing. There is another thing that's called to fuck."
"And what is to fuck?"
"It's when one puts his cock inside your ass hole. He fucks you. Enjoying your ass instead of your mouth. But if I were to fuck you, you would bleed, as you are still a virgin, and mine would be too big for you. So the first to fuck you will be another boy, until you are used to it. Probably I will give authorization for Daniel to fuck you. It is important to remember Simon - the boys of our dormitory, if they ask you to do them a blow job, you can do it, but not the boys of the other dormitories. They have to ask me for permission beforehand, is that clear?"
"Yes."
"And to fuck you, the boys must get my permission first, is that clear? If I don't give the OK, you must allow nobody to fuck you. Understood?"
"Yes. And the... wanks?" Simon wanted to have a complete picture of the strange activities.
"You can wank with anybody. Just be careful not to be seen by the superintendents, otherwise, the confinement cells and twenty blows with the cane, for the first time. You have to be careful with the superintendents, they are bastard turds."
This was Simon's weaning.
Two evenings later, there was the second act. During the recreation time Vincent called him and told him to go with Daniel and do everything he asked.
Daniel was a likeable fourteen-year-old boy, lean and tall, with big eyes, a wide mouth always shaped in a big smile, dark brown hair parted in the centre. Daniel took him to the broom closet and locked the door from the inside.
"Do all I tell you and don't talk - we must not be heard from outside, clear?" he whispered.
"Yes, Daniel."
"Pull down your trousers and underpants... Now lean against the wall and push out your ass."
Simon understood that Daniel was about to fuck him, as the chief had said. He took the position as shown. Daniel spat on his fingers and massaged his little hole for some time and inserted a finger in his hole - it was a strange sensation, then Daniel leaned against him but instead of a finger, Simon felt something different - it must be his 'cock'. He would have liked to see it, but he remained still, waiting. Daniel seized him by his hips, and started to push. Simon felt his hole opening. It was a somewhat annoying sensation like when the sisters gave him an enema. He remembered the enema nozzle was less annoying if he relaxed: he tried to relax. Daniel slipped completely inside him, girdled his waist and started to move inside him, back and forth. Simon's willy rose up, he felt a light pleasurable sensation. The initial annoyance was subsiding.
After a while Daniel, rocking inside him, cummed. For a time he remained still, panting, then withdrew. Simon turned round - his companion had a bigger member than his own but a lot smaller than Vincent. Daniel was cleaning it with his handkerchief.
"Tidy yourself, go on. We have to go back with the others. If a superintendent should see you and asks where you went, you answer the toilet. You didn't come with me, is that clear?"
"Yes." Simon said, bending to do up his buttons.
They went back out to the recreation rooms to the others, not one of the superintendents seemed to have noticed their absence.
For almost a month Simon was fucked by Daniel and he sucked Vincent and four or five other roommates. He realised that Vincent regularly fucked a fourteen year old boy, Pierre, and Daniel was fucked by a seventeen year old, Marcel. Several of his roommates sucked each other.
At times Simon tried to masturbate, but the pleasure was little and nothing happened, after a while he just stopped.
They took their showers once a week. Simon used these occasions to compare their cocks. Vincent and Marcel had the biggest, Simon and Philippe had the smallest ones. It seemed that the hierarchy in the dormitory was proportional to cock size.
When Simon was thirteen, he had his first orgasm - just a few drops, but now he too produced that white liquid. He was thrilled - he was now a man! Moreover the pleasure he felt before doing sex, was increasing. He learned to "enjoy". If before he lent himself only out of obedience, now he did sex for his own pleasure. He continued to be the 'petit' of Daniel, as Daniel was the 'petit' of Marcel. Vincent also permitted another couple of boys to fuck Simon, two or three times. Now that Simon was having his own pleasure, he wanted to try Vincent's member not only in his mouth so he asked him to fuck him.
"You want to be fucked by me?" Vincent asked with a smile. "Do you think you can take it all without problems?"
"Yes chief. Please fuck me."
"All right. I'll put you on fatigues to split firewood. I'll come there to fuck you, it's a safe place."
While Simon was splitting wood with Jean and Michel, he waited for the strong Vincent with his nice seven inches pole to come. Michel, the 'petit' of Jean was giggling while Jean fingered his arse saying he would like to fuck him while Michel sucked Simon.
"What do you think Simon? We could fuck him at both ends, like a little pig on a spit..."
He liked the idea, but was more enthralled with the idea of being fucked by the chief. Unless... perhaps both things at once were possible. He told Jean who accepted at once. When Vincent arrived, Jean proposed a foursome. Vincent accepted merrily. Michael went on all fours and started to suck Simon while Jean fucked him. Vincent rummaged in Simon's little arse then pushed his big pole in. Simon felt his hole spreading, it was really big, the chief's tool. He felt invaded, filled, and felt an intense pleasure from the double stimulus he was receiving, and the vision of Jean passionately fucking his Michel. Vincent sank completely inside him and started to move back and forth with long, slow, vigorous strokes. Each thrust pushing forward Simon's pelvis sending his cock deep into Michel's mouth.
"Wow, it's toooo great!" Simon excitedly murmured.
"Do you like it little pig?" Laughed Vincent starting to hammer him with more vigour.
"Oh yes! Yours, is the chief of all cocks."
The four adolescent bodies seeking pleasure were moving, at time almost synchronized, at times disorderly. Simon felt Vincent rapidly reaching his orgasm. This increased his pleasure, also because he saw from Jean's face that he also was near cumming. Jean was the first to come, pounding Michel and so pushing him towards Simon. Vincent pulled himself deeply into Simon causing him to unload into Michel's throat while he furiously masturbated cumming last. All four were panting, still inside each other.
With a satisfied smile, they parted, tidying their trousers.
Vincent asked to Simon: "Are you satisfied now?"
"I liked it a lot." a blissful Simon replied.
"I liked you. You are still tight, and move nicely while you take it. Daniel has been a good teacher, I think I'll fuck you again."
In reality Vincent left Pierre and made Simon his 'petit'. Which meant he fucked him almost every day. Simon was happy - that considerable rod gave much more pleasure than Daniel's smaller cock.
Pierre was jealous of Simon. To have lost the attentions of the chief hurt, more for the loss of prestige than any other. He could do nothing against the kid who, being the chief's 'petit', was untouchable, but he wanted revenge. When he saw Simon, during recreation time, withdraw to a classroom with François, he sneaked to a superintendent. The two boys were sucking each other when they heard a man's footsteps. They hastily tidied up and François, nimble and fast, went out the window and shinnied down the old wisteria trunk to the ground - the room having been chosen because of the safe escape route. Simon closed the window, and sat at a desk with his head in his hands as though sleeping. Just in time.
On entering the superintendent shook Simon and with his coarse voice asked: "Where is François? I was told he was here with you."
"Eh? Who? I don't know... I fell asleep... I saw nobody."
"You know it is forbidden to stay in the classrooms during recreation time, don't you? You know the rules, don't you?"
"Yes sir. But I felt so tired and... I'm sorry, sir."
"As punishment, this evening you will be on fatigues to clean the toilets, understood? So you will learn to abide by the rules."
"All right, sir." the kid said crestfallen. Happy and relieved at the narrow escape.
All the same, from the superintendent's words he realized that someone had sneaked. Something that had never happened before. As soon as he saw Vincent, he told him. The chief was furious and set out to find the sneak. In a short while he knew that Pierre had been seen talking to the superintendent who at once went up to patrol the classrooms. And Pierre, Vincent knew, had a reason for revenge on Simon.
That evening, after supper Simon went to clean the toilets. Vincent and Marcel with two others enticed Pierre to the laundry room in the underground and there, pulling down his trousers, first gave him twenty belt strokes on his bare arse, then in turn they fucked him. Not yet satisfied, Vincent declared Pierre anyone's bitch for three months - this was the worst punishment amongst the boys. Anyone could fuck Pierre without asking for permission, even boys from the other dormitories.
During recreation time, it was almost impossible to see Pierre around. Each day there was a queue to profit from the kid's services - when one boy was back, another wanting to enjoy himself, went to fuck him. Even Simon went sometimes, it was his first experience in the role of the fucker. He found he liked it, though he preferred to be fucked by his Vincent - he enjoyed it more.
After two months Vincent forgave him and made him the 'petit' of a newcomer, Serge, a farmer sixteen years old, big and sturdy, who at once became the chief's friend.
Meanwhile the war against Germany and Italy burst out. Marcel went as a volunteer in the army. Simon thought him beautiful in his uniform, when he came to bid farewell to his mates, and felt some envy for Marcel - he at least was going out of the house. He would know the world. He was a man at last!
It is not to say that Simon felt bad in there. After all he had no other experiences with witch to make a comparison. But at times looking from the house windows at the passing people in the street, he dreamed that one day he could go out too.
At times, mainly Christmas and Easter, or All Saints Day, there came the Saint Vincent Charity Ladies, to bring them old clothing, copybooks, some home made cakes. They were well dressed, elegant, with an everlasting smile on the powdered faces. With them also was an aged priest who, each time, made an edifying speech. Simon asked himself, on those occasions, how it would be to have a mother like one of those ladies. To wear the clothes they gave them, but brand new. To have a beautiful home like those you could see in the magazine pictures...
Some of them were funny, with their strange, fashionable hats. Some of them were also likeable. Who knew if his mother was like one of those ladies? Or perhaps she was just a servant? Who knew why she had abandoned him on the stairs of a church? Why she didn't want him? Simon asked himself, but only when the ladies came. The other times he didn't think about it. He was a son of unknown parents, full stop, next paragraph. He seldom asked himself who could have been his father. Amongst the house superintendents or staff, there was not one he would have liked to be his father.
And then, he thought, you don't make a child just to throw him away. He will never make a child. Besides the fact that, contrary to some of his mates always talking about girls and cutting their pictures out of the magazines, he felt nothing for girls. He preferred his Vincent, and the way he fucked. Also Vincent didn't seem interested in girls, he never talked about them. This was another reason why Simon liked Vincent.
Then to their dormitory was assigned Rene, a twelve year old kid. First Vincent weaned him, then assigned him to Simon as his 'petit'. When Simon fucked him, he was astounded to see that afterwards the kid's face was wet with tears.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, thinking that his member was becoming bigger, even if not at all like Vincent's.
"No..."
"Then, why do you cry?"
"Because... in the orphanage I was before... there was the son of the cook that did these things... and I miss him."
"So this is not your first time." asked Simon surprised.
"No I was eleven when Louis took me. I liked Louis. He always kissed me and told me that I was his lover, and caressed me. It was beautiful, with Louis."
"He kissed you?" Simon was amazed - they never did that in the house.
"Yes sure."
"And was it good?"
"Sure."
"Why... Try to kiss me."
The kid drew nearer. "But you embrace me, and caress my body...OK?"
Simon did as the kid asked, and Rene kissed him on the moth, moving inside with his little tongue.
Simon liked that - it was like drinking a glass of fresh water.
"Good. Next time we will kiss." he promised the kid.
Rene gave a shy smile and asked: "Then, you made me your lover?"
"Yes." Simon answered, asking himself what changed between a 'lover' and a 'petit'. Possibly just the kissing?
The next time, Simon started with embracing the kid and kissing him. It was pleasurable, exciting.
He undid his trousers, lowered them and tried to make him turn.
But Rene said: "Wait, I before suck it, I prepare it as I did with Louis... but you, meanwhile, caress my body."
Simon did as asked - he was more aroused than usual. The kid was skilled, more so than the other boys, Simon thought pleased.
After a while he was sucking, Rene stood up and turned, offering himself: "Now..." the kid whispered, excitedly.
Simon took him. He slipped inside the little arse and the kid brushed it against his groin.
"Caress my chest and my willy, while you make love to me, please?"
Simon let Rene guide him and was aware that following the kids instructions, making love with him was becoming really beautiful. The kid was hot, passionate, and showed a great desire to enjoy and make him enjoy. While Simon was slipping in and out of that tender little arse, he felt almost adult, the man enjoying his boy.
Yes now he could understand the difference between a 'petit' and a 'lover' - and he thought that really Rene was his lover. So he told him.
"Yes..." the kid answered with a happy twittering, enjoying the way his elder companion was impaling him.
Simon knew for the first time, the joys of love rather than the lust of sex. The two became inseparable, and Simon, for the first time, felt he was in love. And it was a really wonderful sensation. Sure, he also liked to be fucked by Vincent, who continued to want him as his 'petit' and who took him with the same pleasure and vigour. He really liked feeling Vincent's big tool slipping inside him, then hammering away for a long while, hot and vigorous. But now Simon clearly felt that they were two different things. With Vincent it was just sex. With Rene it was really making love. And the kid, even if so unripe, was terribly sexy and arousing. Simon became jealous of his kid, so one day asked Vincent to allow Rene to go only with him. Vincent, who after all had a penchant for Simon, agreed.
Simon was happy. All considered, life in the house was not bad, now that he had a lover all for himself, who adored him. Rene did his utmost for him - always ready to please him, to do for him a thousand services, like tidying his bed or doing his laundry. Some boys mocked Rene, telling him he was Simon's little maid. The kid smiled almost as if it was a compliment, shrugged his shoulders and didn't answer. To him it was enough to have found a new lover.
When the air raid began, the boys were playing in the courtyard. Suddenly, strong, unexpected. Whistles, explosions, dust, collapses - the house had a direct hit. It lasted just the time for the passage of the enemy planes, they didn't come back - they were bound elsewhere and, passing some bombs had been dropped on what the Germans had thought to be barracks. A few bombs after all, but enough to reduce half the orphanage to a miserable smoking ruin.
As soon as Simon was aware it was over, and he was still alive and unharmed, searched with his eyes for Rene. He couldn't see him. He ran towards the ruins calling his name. Fallen bodies, upset like old cloth dolls thrown away. His mates, some superintendents.
He saw Rene - a red spot on his white shirt, too big for him, still. He hurled himself on him, embraced him calling him several times. He was still warm, but lifeless. He didn't answer. Simon understood he was dead.
Simon held him tight against his chest, crying and calling him, and felt completely emptied. He loved the kid, he adored him, and now he was dead. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. It was Vincent.
"Simon... there is nothing more to do. Let him... Come, there is nothing to do... Come away."
"Where?" asked the boy, his voice broken with tears.
"Away. What can we do here? Lets go away... Away."
Simon after kissing the bloodless face, gently put down his lovers body, stood up and followed Vincent. They went out through the breach in the crumbled wall. People were rushing towards the orphanage, but nobody seemed to notice the two boys walking fast in the opposite direction. They left the built up area.
"Paris must be in that direction..." Vincent said to Simon who was following, dazed, silent.