Disclaimer:

 

Notice: This story is a work of fiction and contains explicit sexual material. It depicts consensual sexual acts between males of various ages, including young boys' sexual experiences with other boys and with men. It may also include - incest, sex between minors, sex between minors and adult males, and sexual fetish. If stories of this nature offend you, or if you are under 18 years of age, or if reading such stories is illegal in your location...please leave now. This is for ADULT ENTERTAINMENT only; If you are offended by such material, do not read this work of fiction. The character(s) in this work are not based on any known person(s).

 

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(gay/adult youth) (gay/authoritarian)

 

I hope you enjoyed my submission to Nifty. I'd love to hear from you at MTHpsnym@gmail.com with any comments, support, or constructive criticism. Thank you for your time, I appreciate it.

 

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Chapter 9

The Holmes Trust - Its Foundation and some Case Studies

(The first 16 runaways that Matthew rescued:
Gordon Truscott, Ulysses Papadakis, Allan Hogan,
Roger Jenkins, Zachary Truman, Paul Bradford,

David Leeds, Lachlan Mitchell, Andrew York,
Geoffrey Winchester, Daniel Baker, Ethan Liversage,
Henrik Pedersen, Philip Sumpter, Joshua Lloyd, and Nigel Darwin;
Brian: Policeman in Belwood area,
Jason: Manager of Lake Belwood Evangelical Baptist Camp
Wes, Zeb, and Owyn: 3 Evangelical Baptist boys from Guelph
David York: Father of Andrew York

Stanley Undercroft: A social worker with Children and Youth Services in Tillsonburg, Ontario)

 

Let us now go back eight years, again. On the Labour Day weekend of 2012, 1st to 3rd September, a fire killed Leo and Patrick's parents, after which their 3rd cousin, Matthew, became their guardian. After a very significant, and mildly harrowing, family conference, Leo and Lucas, Patrick and Adriel, and Nathan and Elu began their new lives, together, forever, at last, at Matthew's farm and school, near Orangeville, 50 miles or so out of central Toronto.

 

Matthew is a two-spirit man and has no children of his own. He is also very rich due to an inheritance from his mother's side of his family. At the farm, which specialises in beef and dairy production, he had also built a small school. The school only had a few buildings, in 2012 - two classrooms, a laboratory, a dining room (to fit 50 people) with kitchen, and a school size gymnasium. There were also planned to be fifty well-appointed apartments, in 10 five-story buildings, which were to be scattered around the central area of the site. The boys, and staff. took most of their meals in their apartments; they were encouraged, though, to take their lunches in the central dining room. The small number of school buildings was quite adequate for the 19 pupils, who formed the school's student body, including Leo, Patrick and Nathan. The 3 boys were the new students at the beginning of the 2012-13 academic year, which began on 17th September, 2012.

 

While some lessons, such as PE, were done in groups, most teaching was done on a 1 to 1 basis, either in a classroom when access to special equipment was required, or in each boy's personal study, which was part of each apartment. There were in fact, two studies in each apartment. Even though quite a few of the boys had already coupled up, they were encouraged to do their lessons and 'homework', and have their meetings with their teachers, in their individual studies.

 


 

The curriculum of the school included: -


       English

       Mathematics

       History

       Geography

       Geology and Palaeontology

       Environment

       Civics

       Native American and Ethnicity Studies

       Interpersonal Relationships

       Gender Studies

       French

       German

       Spanish

       Physical Education (PE)

       Economics

       Home Economics and Parenting

       Engineering

       Health Science

       Classical Studies


 

Where necessary, specialists were hired on a contract basis.

 

A week earlier, just after lunchtime, on Monday 10th September, 2012, Matthew asked Leo and Lucas, Patrick and Adriel, and Nathan and Elu to come to the main house; they had each been having lunch in the central dining room. Matthew began the conversation, "I trust you are all settling in well." All the boys nodded, Patrick spoke for all of them by saying, "Cousin Matthew, I could never have imagined the luxury of our apartment, thank you very much." He then stepped across the room and gave Matthew a loving smacker on his cheek; Patrick, being the youngest, was the most demonstrative of The Georgina Island Fraternity.

 

"Leo, Patrick, as you know your parents have left you a $40 million life insurance, $20 million each. Though I know, you are only 13 and 10, respectively, I want you to think hard about a proposal I have. Over the coming week, I encourage you to discuss it with your partners, and with Nathan and Elu, until we all have our big family Sunday dinner, in 6 days, when I hope that we can make a decision together. My proposal, boys, is this, that we invest your $40 million in a trust, to be named The Holmes Trust. As you know, I have already rescued a few runaways, who found themselves in this general area, and you have already met all of them in the community dining room. I want to expand my work across all of North America, and I want to use my proposed trust to greatly expand this school and to rescue not just runaways but, particularly, under-age rentboys who have often fallen into that lifestyle through no fault of their own. There are between 1 and 3 million runaway, and homeless, children living on the streets in the United States; In Canada, the figure is possibly near 100,000? I know my effort will only scratch the surface, but I would like to give it a try. I have left in your rooms, a folder, which tells you what I know about your existing schoolmates. I trust and hope you will be moved by what you read, and that you will keep that information secret. Finally, if you agree to the foundation of the trust, I want to make you all directors of that trust. For now, in the case of Nathan, Leo and Patrick, my younger cousins, that will be just something we know and recognise, but will not publicly declare. Once you are 18, we will add you to the public list of directors. Well, I think that's all for now, please think about it, discuss it between each other, and we will make a final decision next Sunday; I love you all!" The 3 boys, and 3 men, then spontaneously gathered, around Matthew, and gave him a giant family huddle bear hug.

 

Three couples then strolled back to their suites, all with a lot of thinking going on. The folders that the 6 boys found in their suites, gave them the following information.

 


 

Background

 

I purchased this farm in 2009, with a small part of the inheritance I received. I have long been aware that there were many young people, both gay and straight, who are homeless, and living on the streets, in North America. I also knew that many of them were boys between 10 and 18 years of age and that many of them were falling into negative behaviours such as drug‑taking, and prostitution; some even simply disappeared because they were taken by horrid people who used and abused them and then just simply killed them. I, therefore, decided to build the few school buildings that you have seen, plus the first block of apartments. I knew that my efforts would be a mere scratch on the surface of the issue, but I felt that I just could not stand by and do nothing. Once the place was ready, in May 2011, I invited cousin Lucas to be my first teacher (he was just a few weeks from graduation), and I also hired a couple of administrative and support staff. While I know it may sound creepy, I then began to regularly visit the nearby larger towns and cities like Kitchener, Cambridge, Guelph, Hamilton, Mississauga, and Toronto. I was on the lookout for boys and young men who just didn't seem to fit. I was not looking for sex but I was honestly seeking to find even just one boy, or young man, who I could honestly help. The following brief biographies will give you some insight into what I have achieved over the last 16 months.

1. Gordon Truscott, born on 5th May 1998 in Brodhagen, Ontario;
14 on 13 September 2012.
Arrived at Orangeville on 25 June 2011.

 

Gordon was the very first boy that I rescued. It was the afternoon of Saturday 25th June, 2011 and I was taking a break in Queen's Café, Guelph. This boy wandered in; he looked extremely tired: it was very clear that he was nearly dead on his feet. He looked as though he was a pre-teen or, at the most, 13. He walked up to the counter and begged the maid for a glass of water, he said that he had no money. I promptly went across to the counter and asked the café attendant to bring the boy a hot chocolate plus a couple of pieces of slab cake and, in fact, anything he might ask for, between now and when we leave, which I thought might be one or two hours from then.

 

Our conversation then went like this, interrupted, regularly, by much drinking, eating and sobbing, by the sad, young, waif sitting across the table from me. My heart was melting for this boy; I just wanted to do all I could for him.

"Thank you, mister, I've just walked nearly a hundred clicks. I was honestly nearly dead on my feet when I came in here."

"What's wrong, lad, no child of your age walks 100 clicks, straight, without something being wrong?"

The boy, blurted out, in a rush, "I'm the second eldest in my family of four. My older brother is just 18 months older than me, but there's always been a tension between us. I was very sick, when I was born, and he has always resented the extra care, which I received during my first year or so, until I had an operation on my heart. Yesterday we got into one of our regular rows, but this time it was way way worse than any one of our previous set-tos. My parents were away for the weekend, with my two younger siblings: I was physically afraid for my life; I just ran."

"What's your name, son?"

"Gordon, Gordon Truscott, sir."

"Well, Gordon, I'm Matthew. What do you think you want to do now?"

"I don't know Matthew; I'm still feeling very scared. My parents have always taken my brother's side, on every occasion when we have argued. I just want to get far away from them and see what happens."


 

Using words, which quickly became a bit of a mantra, I gently, but firmly, said, "I don't think that is a very good idea, Gordon. There are many dangers out there, for a young boy like you. There are ugly people who enjoy getting young boys, like you, hooked on drugs, others will use you for prostitution, and many young runaway boys just simply disappear, because horrid people do what they want to do and then kill the unfortunate boy. I am at the start of setting up a special haven for boys like you. If you want, I can take you there. You will be free to leave at any time, but, if you do stay, you will be educated to a better standard than any school in North America. You will also have a personal apartment, which you will share with only one other boy, but only if you are comfortable with such sharing, and you will grow up, in a safe environment, until you are ready to go out into the world, as a young mature adult."

"That all sounds very nice, Matthew. I am not sure yet but you have been very kind to me, you have fed me and quenched my thirst, and asked for nothing in return. I will come with you and check your place out."

"True, Gordon, are you ready?"

"Yes, but I need to go to the bathroom first."

I pointed Gordon to the bathroom and he went there. He took about ten minutes before he got back; I was beginning to wonder whether he had run off, but, as he explained, he was washing himself.

"Sorry, Matthew, I knew I was ripe, so I took my shirt off, and my pants down, and washed my chest, underarms, groin, face and hands. I hope you didn't think I'd run out on you!"

"That's all good, Gordon, thank you for doing that. It was very thoughtful of you."

I paid the bill and also took a couple of chocolate milkshakes with us, plus some crisps. As we wandered to my car, we looked as though we might be any father and son out for a Saturday afternoon together. The truth was, of course, very different. Gordon slipped into the front seat, I helped him with the belt, as he was still quite shaken up, and off we went. Within less than five minutes, all I could hear was the quiet, touching, baby-like breaths of my first rescued boy. On the way, I called Lucas and asked him to set up Apartment #2, for Gordon. Less than an hour later, I was driving through the farm gate.

All the rapidly embroidered linen, with Gordon's name on it, was in place in Apartment #2. I showed him around, pointed out the map of the farm, drew attention to the telephone, gave him his key, and left. I asked Lucas to regularly check on him. I then went back to my own apartment, feeling very elated. Lucas did regularly check on Gordon, using his passcard, but Gordon slept for nearly 24 hours. As has always been my practice, I kept a close eye for any police reports of a missing boy fitting Gordon's description, but, after two weeks, I came to the realisation that his parents had, obviously, not really cared that their second son had run away. Gordon chose to stay, and settled in for Summer 2011. He was the first enrolled pupil on the school roll, when it started its first academic year (2011-12) which began classes, with Lucas, on Monday 12 September, 2011, but he was not alone.


 

2. Zachary Truman, born on 16th July 1996 in Guelph, Ontario;
16 on 13 September 2012.
Arrived at Orangeville on 16 July 2011.

 

One of the actions that I took, once the school buildings were close to completion, was to very carefully, and slowly, begin to create a network of people who would keep an eye out for runaways and rent boys. I knew that many runaways looked to earn money by becoming rent boys and that one of the places they sought to sell their bodies was truck stops. Within a few weeks I had recruited Clive and Rupert: there is now a network of over 50 truck drivers, out there, who either know me directly or make contact via the others. I also, and it may surprise you, made contact with a few law officers, particularly in this immediate local area, as I knew whom I could trust and whom it was best to avoid.

 

The policeman in the Belwood area, Brian, just 20 miles down the road, called me eight days after Gordon arrived here. He had heard rumours about a boy living rough beside Lake Belwood at the rear of the Evangelical Baptist Camp. He had tried to catch sight of him, but the boy was very good at keeping himself hidden. Brian said that he had used a lot of time on the boy, but he had other calls on his time, as well; he wondered if I might use my special skills in this case. He gave me the name and number of the camp manager, Jason.

 

I called Jason, "Hello, Jason, my name is Matthew, I run a private school for boys up at Orangeville. Brian called and asked for my help. I understand you think you have a boy hiding in your grounds."

 

"Yes, I've caught glimpses of him, but he runs away any time I approach him. I think he's been around here for a week or maybe even two or three. I've noticed evidence of a little bit of pilfering from the kitchen, and my newspaper always seems to be gone the next morning, after I throw it in the bin, at the end of the day, while I'm walking to my quarters, just after 9.00 p.m."

 

"Have any of the campers or your staff seen the boy?"

 

"One or two boys have spoken to me about a strange feeling that they've seen glimpses of their school mate, Zachary. Quite a few of this month's campers are sons of members of a couple of the Baptist churches in Guelph. They also said that they hadn't seen Zachary, around town, during the two weeks before they came on camp."

 

"Thank you for that information. If you don't mind, I'll come down tonight and have a look around. I'll be sure not to disturb you, your staff or the boys. I would ask you, though, to please ask the boys, who think they've seen Zachary, to tell you anything they might know about him."

 

I drove down, leaving Lucas in charge at the school. I decided that what I needed to do was find out this boy's routine and then lead him into a desire to trust me.

 


 

I arrived at the camp at ten to 9 and hid myself near the bins; even Jason didn't see me when he dumped his newspaper. A little after 10.00 I saw a shadow near the bins, and there he was, a good looking, but unkempt, boy of about 14 or 15 years of age. He went straight for the bin, found the newspaper, looked for some scraps and then snuck in the back of the kitchen. He took a few slices of bread, a small pack of cheese, and a small orange juice carton. He then scurried away towards the lake; I followed, at a distance, but I lost him a short way from the lake.

 

I called Jason the next morning, "Hello, Jason, I've seen the boy. He is clearly quite agile, and canny, but he is quite unkempt. I don't think he has changed his clothes in weeks, though he is possibly skinny-dipping in the lake, to wash himself. Can you also please ask the boys if they happen to have a picture of the boy on their phones?"

 

"Thank you, Matthew, I'll do that. I did learn that, if it is Zachary, his birthday is on the 16th of July and that he will turn 15 on that day. How can I get the photo to you if they have one?"

 

"If you can get one, please print it and leave it, tomorrow night, in a white envelope lying behind the brick wall near the bins, where you drop your newspaper."

 

"OK, Matthew, is there anything else?"

 

"Yes, I want you, tonight, to 'accidentally,' on purpose, leave an opened loaf of bread, two 6-packs of juice cartons, and a ten pack of those small cheese packs, on your kitchen bench tonight. This kid is looking a little starved, despite the small amounts he has been taking from the fridge. He might be getting desperate enough to take the lot. If you need paying, I'll send you the money immediately."

 

"Don't worry about that, Matthew. I, like you, just want this young waif to be safe. The camp closes in only a few weeks and then there will be no food here at all."

 

I did not go down that night but rang Jason the next day.

 

"What about the food, Jason, and the newspaper from the bin?"

 

"All gone, I've got the picture, I'll put it where you asked."

 

It was now the 5th of July, I went down to the school again, collected the picture and went down near the lake, close to where I had lost track of the boy, two nights previously. Sure enough, at about 10.30, I saw the boy heading into some overgrowth near the lake. Fortunately, there was a bit of moonlight and I recognised Zachary, immediately. The picture, from his classmate, was clearly a recent one.

 

I again retreated and called Jason the next day.


 

"Do you think there is some way you could contrive a way in which I could come to the camp and talk to the boys? I must admit I have a bit of a passion about runaway boys and I could give them a talk about never thinking about running away and then lead round to telling them that their classmate is hiding nearby, but that they mustn't look for him, though one or two might be able to help."

 

"I think I can arrange that, Matthew. We often have a speaker come in on Saturday mornings, before giving them free time for the afternoon."

 

Just after the boys' breakfast, I arrived at the school and went to the recreation hall, where Jason had said he would get the thirty boys, and the camp staff, to meet up after they had cleaned up breakfast.

 

I gave my standard talk about the dangers out there. I didn't hold back. Jason was a little shocked but I could see that the boys all received the message well. At the end, I went on to the subject of Zachary.

 

"I know some of you have been helping Jason with his concerns about a boy hiding in the campgrounds, and I thank you for doing that. I can now tell you that the boy is, definitely, your classmate, Zachary and I'm beginning to get quite worried about him. He appears to have been sleeping rough for two to three weeks and though he's been feeding himself with some scraps and small amounts of food from the camp, I don't think he is going to last long if we don't help him more. Eventually, I hope Zachary will come out into the open and I will then be able to help him properly. In the meantime, though, I know a couple of you have been helping Jason, I don't know who you are, because it is up to you to make that decision as to whether you are willing to help Zachary directly."

 

Immediately, two boys jumped up and introduced themselves, "I'm Zebedee, everyone calls me Zeb." "I'm Wesley, everyone calls me Wes. Zeb and I know Zac, we haven't been close to him for a little while now, but we would hate to think he could get into any of what you have just been telling us about. How can we help?"

 

"The first thing I would like to do is to try to 'give' him some clothes. Do you have any you can spare, boys?"

 

Jason spoke up, "Oh, don't worry about that Matthew, there are lots of left-behind clothes in the lost property cupboard. I'm sure we can put together some kind of package."

 

"OK, that's sorted, the other thing boys is I would like you to be prepared to come out with me, once I have, definitely, located Zac's camp; it would be well after your bedtime, but I'm sure Jason won't mind."

 

Wes, as before, spoke for the two boys, "Whoopee, a nighttime adventure, of course, sir, we'll help."

 

"Thank you, boys, please call me Mat."


 

Sadly, I could not go down to the camp every night, but Jason kept me posted. The clothes bundle had been taken, and Zachary was still grabbing the food and newspaper every night. Finally, after four nights of scouting I found, on the night of Thursday 14th July, 2011, a very well concealed small brush shelter. I saw Zac come back at about 11.00 p.m. and immediately proceeded to put my plan into action.

 

On the morning of Friday 15th July, I went to the campsite, and met with Jason, Zeb and Wes. I told the boys that I would need them to dress up in good warm clothing and be ready by 8.15 p.m. that evening. The boys readily agreed and I encouraged the boys to take an afternoon nap, while I did the same in the guest quarters. I had dinner with all the boys, staff and Jason; at 8.15, I led the boys via a slightly roundabout way to a well-hidden spot near Zac's shelter. A little after 9.30 we saw Zac leave on his nightly foray.

 

Now was the time for action. The boys crept into the shelter and hid themselves at the back, in shadow. I waited, in close hiding, near the shelter, so that I could jump up and block its exit, as soon as Zac had entered.

 

About an hour later, as I had observed the night before, Zac returned. He crept into his shelter and immediately sensed the presence of the two boys, though he couldn't really see them.

 

"Who's there, I've got a knife?"

 

"Don't worry Zac, it's Zeb and Wes, here."

 

By now I was covering Zac's escape route,

 

"How did you find me?"

 

"We didn't, a man called Mat did, and he wants to help you."

 

"You traitors, I hate you, I just want to be left alone."

 

This was my trigger, I launched myself quickly through the door and held Zac firmly.

 

"Hey, get off me, you perv!"

 

"Zac, I'm not a perv, I'm a school headmaster, and I want to help you. Go on boys, tell them some of what I told you last week."

 

Wes calmly told Zac about some of the dangers of being a runaway, and how I ran a special school to help runaways like him. After about ten minutes, Zac relaxed and sort of slumped into my arms.

 

"Wes, are you sure this isn't a trick?"

 


 

"I don't think so, Zac, this guy seems to be true. He's told us that he could have grabbed you and taken you to the police many times in the last fortnight, but he wanted to find your place and meet you properly here. That's where we came in."

 

I then spoke up, "Zac, why have you run away from home?"

 

"I hated school. I was being given good marks, but I was bored, I wasn't being challenged. I just needed to get away. I've been hiding up here for a few weeks; I came here on a camp a few years ago. I've been grabbing the newspaper, which the manager throws away each day. I've seen that my parents haven't even been looking for me, though I've been away from home for over a month. I hoped they might look for me, and then I could tell them how I felt, but, obviously, they don't care. I thought of running away to Toronto, and trying to get a job, but I've been losing weight and now I look like a 13-year-old, not a good strapping 16-year-old. It's my 15th birthday tomorrow, possibly my last I suppose." By now Zac was crying and Zeb and Wes came over to be beside their erstwhile friend.

 

"Well, Zac, if I have anything to do with it, that will not be the case. I run a special school a few miles from here, where tuition is 1 to 1, and I will make sure that your schoolwork stretches you. You will have a personal apartment, which you will share with only one other boy, but only if you are comfortable with such sharing, and you will grow up, in a safe environment, until you are ready to go out into the world, as a young mature adult."

 

"Was it you who put the food and clothes out?"

 

"Yes, Zac, I arranged that, with the manager's help."

 

"Well, I did think that was a bit strange, and I was fearing a trap, but now I know what you could have done, I'll come with you. I just hope you aren't going to rape me or do anything nasty to me."

 

"Zac, of course, I won't. Do you think the local policeman and the camp manager would have trusted me, if they hadn't known I was a good guy? I think it's time we took you up to the camp, got you all cleaned up and then you can sleep in a real bed again. We'll go to the school in the morning, where I can assure you that we will give you the best birthday party you've ever had."

 

By now it was quite clear that Zac had no fight left in him. The four of us crawled out of the shelter; Zeb and Wes stood on either side of Zac and helped him walk back to the camp. I scooped up Zac's few belongings and followed them.

 

The small group then went into the guest quarters. Zeb and Wes helped Zac into the shower, where both boys helped the exhausted Zac to wash, while they also enjoyed the refreshing warm water and soap. Jason had found some appropriate size pyjamas and Zac quickly fell asleep after the boys had dried him, dressed him and laid him in the bed. The boys then returned to their cabin, while I slept in the other room in the guest quarters.

 


 

Zac woke reasonably refreshed in the morning but a little disoriented. He searched the cabin and found me half-awake. He shook me and said, "Hey, mister, what's happening now?"

 

I blearily rose and sorted out nice clothes for Zac and left him to dress, after saying, "Once you are ready, we will join the other boys in the dining room."

 

Zac and I walked over to the dining room about ten minutes later. Despite being up late, Zeb and Wes were already there and, as previously arranged, had set up places for me and Zac. Word had spread among the other boys, but Jason had also passed the message that they were to leave Zac alone; he would be sitting with Matthew, Zeb and Wes, on a private table. Zac ploughed into double helpings of cereal, pancakes and syrup, and two giant glasses of Orange Juice. By the end, he certainly looked much better, but still slightly frail.

 

About 11.00 a.m. Zac, Zeb, Wes and I drove out to Orangeville. Apartment #3 was all ready and Zac thus became the second pupil at the school. Just before I went to sleep, the night before, I had SMS'd Joseph and Lucas and asked them to put together as good a birthday party, for a 15-year-old, as they could, at such short notice. The kitchens were well stocked and Mortimer, our cook, put together, for entrée, a plate of delicatessen meats, vegetable dips, cheeses, a variety of fruit juices, a hot meal of roast beef, fries, carrots and beans, and, for dessert, a chocolate cake with Zachary's name, age, and date of birth written on it with mock cream. It was only a small group of boys, Zac, Zeb, Wes, and Gordon but Zac's profuse thanks afterwards were sufficient reward. I drove Zeb and Wes back to the camp; on the way, I asked them to not tell anyone they had met Zac and also to encourage all the other boys at camp to say nothing. I never did hear anything from Zachary's parents.


 

3. Roger Jenkins, born on 12th April 1996 in Barrie, Ontario;
16 on 13 September 2012.

Arrived at Orangeville on 17 July 2011.

 

The next boy to become a student here arrived the day after Zachary. He just turned up at my door at about 4.00 p.m. on the afternoon of Sunday 17th July, 2011. I heard a knock on the door and found that to be a little strange, especially mid-afternoon on a Sunday. All the staff, and Gordon and Zachary knew I had a totally open-door policy to any of them, 24/7; all their electronic passcards opened my front door. I opened the door to find a boy of about 15 or maybe even 16; he was a redhead, looked quite slim, but also a bit tired. He was wearing his school uniform from Newmarket High School, his smile was to die for, and he was adorable.

 

This was how our conversation went.

 

"Hello, son, may I help you?"

 

"I don't know, but Craig, a truck driver who gave me a lift here from Newton Robinson, left me at your gate. He pointed at your door and he told me to say these words, "Owl Craig Stop".

 

"What's your name, lad?"

 

"Roger Jenkins."

 

"Come on in, Roger. My name is Matthew, but please call me Mat. Let's have a chat."

 

I led Roger through to the lounge room and he sat on the couch. I sat on the armchair. If he had been a few years older, I would have seduced him, he was very attractive.

 

"May I get you something to drink, Roger?"

 

"A Coke please, Mat."

 

I pulled a Coke from the fridge and a chocolate milk for myself.

 

"OK, Roger, please tell me what's been happening for you, that led to Craig bringing you here?"

 

"Well, let's go back to late Friday afternoon, last, the 15th of July. It was a short time after 5.30 p.m. I had been home from my part-time summer job, for about an hour, when my dad arrived home. I was resting in the lounge room, after quite a busy week. Dad came in and asked me to go to my room, or out in the yard, because he had to have a talk with mum. My dad is someone whom I would never argue with. I went into the yard, but I was worried. Dad had never made such a request immediately upon getting home. Mum was in the kitchen making dinner. This is what I heard of their conversation."


 

"Joan, I was told today that the company is cutting back on overtime. There have been fewer orders recently and, therefore, they are cutting back. You well know that the overtime money has been helping with the bills. We can't cut back too much on the basics like rent, food and power, you already are quite frugal with the housekeeping. The boys will just have to accept second-hand clothing and Rupert will have to start wearing Roger's hand-me-downs."

 

"Rupert is my younger brother, he's 13, I'm 15. I loved my parents very much, but I hated to think of Rupert not getting the good stuff I had always had. I decided overnight to leave. I'm only nine months from 16 and I thought I could find some work down in Toronto. I hitched over this way so I might not be recognised by the bus or train drivers. So, yesterday afternoon, I put on my thickest, and sturdiest clothes, which is my school uniform and packed my school bag with a couple of changes of underwear, some basic toiletries, my bank book, a large bottle of Coke, and a couple of gay porn magazines, which an older friend had given me. I didn't want mum, dad, or Rupert to find them. I left at about 3.30 p.m. and started walking south towards Schomberg, and Highway 9, where I hoped to get a lift over this way so I could then head back south-east to Toronto. As I said I was going long ways round so I wouldn't meet people who might recognise me. After just over three hours I arrived at Highway 9 and started walking west. It was not long before this big rig pulled up beside me. It was labelled with the name Hot Beaver. The guy jumped down and asked me where I was going. I told him I was just heading to Orangeville. Our conversation, and subsequent actions, went like this."

 

"Well, you're lucky, buddy, that's on my way. Do you want a lift?"

 

"I got up on the passenger's side and he climbed in the driver's seat. My eyes adjusted to the dark over a few minutes and then I noticed the pictures that the guy had on the back of the flipped down sun visors. They were pictures of naked men, and boys, and some were even having sex. My dick started to rise, I've already told you I'm gay. The man glanced across and saw that I was horny."

 

"Do you like what you see, kid? It seems your cock does. Feel free to release it if you want to."

 

"I thought this was a bit forward, but the dude was not unattractive, so I unzipped and pulled my dong out. I also leant down for my bag and pulled out the two magazines. I was given these mags by a college guy whom I know. They turn me on, and I cum heavily when I wank to them but I've never done anything with anyone. My name's Roger, what's yours?"

 

"Hi, Roger, my name's Craig. Would you like to do some of those things you see in the magazine?"

 

"Yes, please. I've always hoped it would be an adult who would break me in, so to say.."


 

"By this time we were nearly at the Glen Haffy Conservation Park. Craig turned down Glen Haffy Road and soon found a place where he could park the truck in a layby. He told me to get in the cabin behind, which I did. He climbed in and lay down beside me. He placed his hands on either side of my head and kissed me. He pushed his tongue against my lips and I opened up; we played a tongue duel for about ten minutes. He then put his hand on my dick and started rubbing i. I undid my trousers to make access easier."

 

"I love boys in school uniform. How old are you, Roger?"

 

"I knew that guys often like younger boys, so I fibbed and said I was only fourteen."

 

"You're a big boy for only 14, but that's my favourite age."

 

"I'm 15 in a few weeks, Craig."

 

"Don't wish your life away, lad. Let's get serious. Take my trousers and underpants off, and suck my dick. He squeezed my dick a little harder, just to be sure I would obey."

 

"Ow, you didn't have to do that, I'm happy to suck you."

 

"Sorry, Roger, some kids balk at this stage."

 

"While I was sucking him, he removed my trousers and underpants. He licked his fingers and started stroking my arse. After a few minutes, he started to push one, then two, and finally three fingers into my arse. It hurt a little but soon he touched my g-spot and I began to feel very excited."

 

"It's time, Roger, to pop your cherry. I will be as gentle as I can be. Lie on your back so I can see your face and your school uniform badge. I want to know I'm fucking a schoolboy."

 

"He lined his thick (1½") and 7" long phallus and pushed. Having been opened up with the fingers, and the cock being wet from my saliva, it slid in fairly easily. It still hurt a bit and I screamed a little, but mainly I was just pleased that this trucker was breeding me. I started saying, 'Harder, Fuck me harder, Screw me good.' and 'That's it, take my boy bitch pussy, I'm your willing young whore.'"

 

"Yes, you are, my little boy, you're gorgeous, adorable and willing. You're loving Daddy's fuck aren't you?"

 

"Yes, Daddy, thank you. Soon after he filled me with his spunk and I came all over my chest and face. He then took some pictures including of my stretched arse, which was, by now leaking his cum. After that, he said that I had already earned $250 but I could earn another $500 if I would let him spank me very hard. He also promised he would rub soothing gel on to my buttocks afterwards. I was hesitant, but, after all, $500 is a lot to a young kid, so I said yes. I'm still stinging. He told me to kneel in a doggy position and he set a movie camera running. He was holding an 8" wide leather paddle."

 


 

"Brace yourself, Roger, I don't hold back."

 

"Thwack, on my left buttock. I winced. Thwack, on my right buttock. I winced again."

 

"Don't hold back, boy, I like to hear you scream and cry."

 

"The process followed with alternate thwacks on each buttock. By the time of the third hit on the right buttock, I was crying hard. I started saying 'Stop, please stop' and he replied 'No Roger, I must get my money's worth."; at the end of the process, after 6 hits on each buttock, I was screaming and blubbering. Once he was finished, he changed completely and grabbed me in his arms and cuddled me and started quietly saying, 'I,m sorry, baby, I did that for a reason. It excited me, yes, but I mainly did it because I wanted to dissuade you from continuing on the journey you have started; you're clearly a runaway and I'm part of a network that seeks to save boys like you. That was just a taster of what nasty and horrid guys, out there, might do to you. Lie down and I will massage you. He then slipped my top clothes off and massaged me with coconut oil. He did this for 2 or 3 hours and by then I was feeling very sleepy but also quite soothed. Just before I fell asleep he said that we would stay in that layby overnight and move on to Orangeville in the morning. We did go on to Orangeville. He bought me breakfast and then gave me a bit more of a lecture, along the lines I suspect you would know, and even showed me where the bus station was. He then drove past here and pointed at your house, he gave me the password and encouraged me to come back here. He drove about 2 miles out of town, and dropped me off. His final words were, 'It's up to you now, Roger, I hope you make the right decision.' I walked back to town and walked around the town; I even bought some lunch at The Green Apple Cafe. I wandered around a bit more and decided I would at least check you out. So that's it, that's my last two days."

 

I was a little distressed by how far Craig had gone to get our message over, but not all my scouts are angels.

 

"Well, Roger, I am very glad you are here, and I want to help. Another 15-year-old boy, Zachary, arrived just yesterday, and I think you and he would make good roommates. The apartment will just be for the two of you, but if you are not willing to share, you can have your own place."

 

"No, Mat, I would like to share with another boy of my own age."

 

I called Zachary and asked him to wander over. I called Lucas at the same time and had him

make up the embroidered linen. Zachary arrived and let himself in,"

 

"Hello, Mat, how can I help?"

 

"Zac, this is Roger, he has had quite a harrowing last 2 days and he is considering coming to live here. He is also 15, like you. May he share your apartment?"

 

"Of course, Mat, it will be nice to have a friend."

 

Roger was never looked for, he and Zac hit it off well, and, though I think there was a wee bit of seduction, by Roger, he and Zac soon formed a loving gay partnership.

4. Allan Hogan, born on 7th January 1996 in Hanover, Ontario;
16 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 24 July 2011

 

On Saturday 23 July 2011, I decided to take Lucas, and our first three scholars, Gordon, Zac, and Roger on a day trip to Lake Huron, and the Bruce Peninsula National Park, travelling via Kincardine, Southampton, Tobermory, Hopeness, Owen Sound, Collingwood, and then back to Orangeville. Little did I know that this route was to radically change, before the end of the day. We had lunch at the Tim Hortons in Southampton and then drove on to Tobermory.

 

By the time we were in Tobermory, we all needed a toilet and found the public restrooms near the Tobermory Foodland. We entered in pairs, so as not to leave the van unattended. Zac had to use the stall so he was a little delayed. Soon after we were finished a teenager went in to use the urinals. Zac was now out of the stall and washing his hands. Just as Zac was finishing, the boy was also finishing and moved to go across to the basins: before he could even do up his fly, he fainted; unfortunately, Zac was just too far away to catch the boy.

Zac rushed out to the minivan, which already had the school name, "Orangeville Boy's Academy", and a crest, which I had designed, painted on its side.

 

Zac, shouted, in a rather agitated voice, "Mat, there's a boy, about the same age as me, fainted in the toilet."

 

I jumped out of the van and ran, hell for leather, into the toilet.

 

I found a tall boy, about 5' 8" in height, with blonde curly hair, lying in a crumpled position, unconscious on the concrete floor. He also looked malnourished and dehydrated. My immediate fears were for concussion. I immediately spoke quite firmly to the lad.

 

"Son, can you hear me, what's your name?"

 

The boy groaned but was completely incoherent. I checked his pulse and breathing which were slow and shallow, respectively. I had equipped the minivan with an extremely good first aid kit, including a neck brace plus even a backboard and stretcher. While I stayed with the boy, I asked Zac to run and bring Lucas here. While Zac was away, I gently restored the boy's dignity by placing his penis back inside his underpants and by zipping up his pants.

 

Lucas arrived within less than a minute.

 

"I'll need the full kit please, Lucas. I'm sure the boys will help."

 

Lucas ran back with Zac. He gave Gordon the kit and neck brace. Zac and Roger carried the stretcher and Lucas followed up with the backboard.

 


 

The boy was now somnolent, responding, to my standard consciousness questions, with only incoherent mumbling. I carefully applied the neck brace and then, with Lucas's help, placed the backboard under him. I could see no bleeding, so Lucas and I put him on the stretcher. Lucas, Zac, Roger and I then picked up the stretcher. Gordon followed, carrying the kit.

 

The boy showed all the obvious signs of being a runaway. Even though Orangeville Hospital was, officially, over 2½ hours away, I did not want to take him to a place where he might be lost in the system, so to say. At Orangeville, I had established a couple of contacts, whom I knew would deal with the boy appropriately. Though he had fallen on a concrete floor, he did not show any signs of severe injury, so we headed back to Orangeville as fast as we could; Lucas drove, so that I could stay by the boy. Many speed limits were broken that day, so we arrived in less than 1¾ hours.

 

Along the way, I had continued to be asking the standard questions like, "What's your name, son? Where are you from?" Eventually, the boy managed to mumble, "Al..." I thought I heard Allan, but I was not sure. That was all he said, between Tobermory and Orangeville. At Orangeville Lucas reversed into the ambulance bay, as previously arranged by CB radio, my network again came up trumps.

 

Dr. Jarvis was there to meet us, and Al was wheeled straight into the Emergency Department. Al was kept overnight and discharged, into my care, the next morning. Overnight Al was given intravenous fluids and had recovered enough to share his first name of Allan. but other than answering questions about how and where he was hurting, he had said nothing about where he was from, who his parents were, or anything that could be used to identify him.

 

When I took him back to Orangeville, I showed him into my guest suite. The embroidered linen had been rapidly prepared and Lucas helped me to put Allan in bed, in a new pair of pyjamas. We took Allan's own clothes, including all his underwear, and washed them. Unfortunately, the underwear, which had probably been worn, unchanged, for about a month, fell apart in the washing, so we gave Allan a new set. We returned his shirt, trousers and jumper to him, but even they were very worn, despite our best efforts of using a gentle wash cycle and light iron.

 

While Lucas, Gordon and I took turns in sitting up with Allan, in four‑hour 'shifts', all day and night, he did not wake up until about 8.00 a.m. on the morning of Monday 18th July. Allan woke up to find Gordon, who had arrived at 7.00 a.m.. sitting in a chair beside his bed.

 

"Who are you? Where am I?", were Allan's first words, which he said in a rather frightened voice.

 

Gordon immediately pressed the orange button under his chair and began to answer, "My name is Gordon and you are in the guest room of Mat, the headmaster of Orangeville Boys Academy."

 

By now I had entered the room and Lucas arrived about thirty seconds later.

 

"Thank you, Gordon, well done."


 

"Hello, Allan, do you remember anything from the last couple of days?"

 

"I suppose you're Mat?"

 

"Yes, Allan, I'm Mat, and I am sad to have found you in the way I did about 36 hours ago."

 

"What, 36 hours, what day is this?"

 

"Monday 25th July."

 

"All I can remember is taking a pee at Tobermory and then some vague impressions of a hospital. What happened to me?"

 

"One of my students, Zac, saw you faint, just after you had pee'd, at Tobermory. I even had to put your cock away, I was most gentle. We then put a neck collar on you, a backboard under you, put you on a stretcher and put you in our school van. We rushed you, as fast as we could, to the hospital here at Orangeville, where I know people. I could see you were clearly a runaway and I did not want you to get lost in the system, so to say, which would probably have happened if I had taken you to a hospital nearer to Tobermory. I run a special school here, for runaway boys, and you can have a home here until you become an adult, if you want. Gordon, would you please tell Allan about your experiences here over the last month."

 

Gordon spoke quietly and calmly, "Allan, I ran away from home a month ago yesterday; I have an older brother who bullied and rowed with me all the time. Mat found me in a café, when I was nearly dead on my feet, after having walked 100 clicks. I had run away from my brother, while my parents were away for the weekend, when I was afraid for my life. Mat has set me up in the most luxurious apartment I could ever imagine. Lucas, just beside me here, is a teacher and he will be teaching us once school starts in September. In the meantime, there is lots of land here to explore, we have a fantastic common room where there are computers, games, and just places we can sit and chat. There are two other boys already here, they are Zac and Roger."

 

"Thank you, Gordon, you are a great salesman. I hope that Allan will agree to stay, so you will be able to talk more later but, for now, I think it would be best if you go back to your apartment or, of course, wherever you wish."

 

"I'll go and find Zac and Roger, we might go for a walk down to the lake." There is a small lake on the grounds, with a diving pier and kayaks, canoes, and dinghies, but the boys know that Lucas or Mat must be present if they are to go into, or on, the water.

 

"Well, Allan, while you don't have to, I would be pleased if you could tell me a bit more about yourself."


 

"My dad died last year and a few months ago, my mum took up with a new guy. Within only a few weeks, when mum was out at work, he started using me as his bum boy. I tried to ask him to stop and told him I would go to the police, but he just laughed. He said he would kill me first. I saw his eyes when he said that, I believed him; I even saw him hit mum a few times. I put up with being abused for about two months, and I suppose he fucked me over twenty times and he wasn't even gentle about it, he was quite brutal, he would even spank me, with a paddle, about twenty times, before he fucked me. He said he liked fucking a black and blue arse. The same routine occurred every Monday, Wednesday and Friday night. I had to lie face down in bed every night, I was in so much pain. Eventually, there was one night when he got drunk and passed out. I packed a few things, including my sleeping bag, in a duffle bag, and just ran. Since then I've been heading as far away from Hanover as I could. Along the way, I've even encountered a few guys who paid me money to have sex with them. I didn't enjoy it but it was earning me money, and most of the guys were at least quite nice and gentle, so it wasn't too bad. I got as far north as Tobermory, a few days ago, and met a couple of guys at those toilets but I was not eating well as the guys hadn't paid well. After all, I looked to be 16, so they weren't paying the kind of rates they would have paid a younger boy. I only had one change of underwear and I tried to wash them in the basins in the toilets but that was often not possible. I successfully hid my duffle bag, each day, and found shelter under a bush or similar. Speaking of that, I suppose you don't have that?"

 

"Sorry, Allan, was there anything special in the bag?"

 

"There was a picture of my mum, and a few dollars, about fifty, that I had been able to save after buying food."

 

"Well, Allan, if you can describe where you hid the bag, I will do my best to have it found and returned to you."

 

Allan went ahead and described a reasonably well identifiable spot, which was a couple of miles out of Tobermory. Within the week the bag was found, by one of my agents, and returned to Allan; he was amazed, but also very grateful.

 

"Now, Allan, Gordon has told you about his experiences here and I know that all this is probably quite overwhelming, so I suggest we get you settled into Apartment #4 and leave you to mull it all over."

 

Lucas took Allan to Apartment #4 and left him to it. After Gordon, Zac and Roger had returned from their walk, they went to Lucas's apartment and asked him what had happened with Allan. Lucas told the boys that Allan was upstairs in Apartment #4. The boys all went up to Allan's floor and knocked on the door. He opened the door, Gordon introduced Zac and Roger and asked, "May we come in?"

 


 

Allan said, "Please do, maybe you can answer some of the questions I have. I've been reading the academy brochure, which was on the kitchen bench, and, other than that, I've just been gobsmacked at this place. This place is like a place for royalty, not a street kid like me."

 

The four boys sat around the lounge: Allan did, though, quickly notice that Zac and Roger were sitting a little closer to each other than one might expect for two 15-year-old boys, and, thought to himself, "What, they are even holding hands!"

 

Roger, picked up the facial language of Allan, and lovingly said, "I hope you don't mind, Allan, Zac and I are lovers, we share the apartment below you. Mat and Lucas are both gay, but Lucas has a partner, Leo, who still lives with his parents, about 50 miles away, so he is often away at weekends; Mat loves his work with runaway boys like us, but he has told us that his sexual attraction is to young men over 18. This is, therefore, a gay-friendly school, which even allows boys to couple up at any age, but that is it. Coupling up is encouraged, but orgies, or sleeping around, are both not allowed."

 

"Well, I suppose that is OK. I ran away from being made a boy-whore by my step-father who brutally abused me, for two months, before I ran away, and I've been barely keeping myself alive, for the last month and a half, by being what I think is called a rentboy; I learnt that word from the Academy brochure. It would therefore be hypocritical for me to take exception to my schoolmates being gay. My late father, whom I miss dearly, taught me many things; to not be hypocritical, in life, was one of the main things that was important to him." By now, Allan was sobbing a little, and Gordon went over to sit by Allan, on Allan's right-hand side. Gordon placed his left hand on the arm of Allan's chair. Allan was a little uncertain, but he laid his hand on the top of Gordon's and felt comforted by Gordon's gesture.

 

Zac said, "Well, it's good we cleared that up. Have you any questions, Allan?"

 

"Are all the apartments like this one, or have I been given a special one to lure me in, so to say?"

 

"Zac replied, "I've been here less than ten days, Allan, but I believe that I can assure you that this is no trap. You spoke about royalty. One thing I have realised, very fast, is that, if there are any royalty here, it is us, the boys! Mat and Lucas treat the three of us just like we were adults. He never tells us to do something, except in the case of an emergency, like two days ago when I found you. After I had run to him, Mat went into overdrive and politely, but firmly, had all of us, and Lucas, quickly working, as a team, to rescue you. In order to do that he had to tell us to do things, but he always said his words calmly and in a clearly friendly manner, in just the way a good team captain might, at school. Mat has set certain rules like no swimming, or using the lake craft, without an adult present, but that is simply because he loves us and wants to make sure that we are safe. You have a passcard which will open your door, all the school buildings, and Mat's house; it is only the private apartments over here, where you need to knock, which, as I hope you would agree, is perfectly reasonable. You will find that you may go and talk to Mat at any time of day or night, 24/7.


 

Though I'm with Roger now, I visited Mat quite a few times last week, at various times of day and night, before I succumbed to Roger's gentle seduction. I wasn't sure and he told me lots of things about sexual attraction, boy-boy love and he was quite explicit about some of the things that Roger and I might do together. I was a little shocked, by some of the details, but, by the end, I was ready to sleep with Roger, which happened, for the first time, last Thursday. We are very happy." With that Za,c turned his face and briefly kissed Roger smack bang on the lips. "Oh, and about the apartments, they are all like this; the only difference is our linen has our names on it, while yours has your name."

 

"Mat said, I could leave any time I like, is that true?"

 

"Yes, Allan, the gates respond to your swipe card the same as any other swipe pad, 24/7."

 

"Well, it seems, I have nothing to lose, and much to gain."

 

With that Gordon finally spoke, "Well, I think it's time for a celebration. Dinner in my apartment, friends?"

 

Zac, Roger, and Allan all said, "Yes, please!"

 

Allan stayed. After a week, actually on Canada Day (1st August), I went across to Allan's apartment, and knocked. Allan came to the door and, with a surprised look on his face, said, "Mat, is there something wrong? Have I broken a rule?" "May I come in?" "Of course, Mat, come in, sit down, please."

 

"No, Allan, you have been a very good member of this Academy, I could never have expected a better-behaved boy. I came across to discuss what you told me on the first day that you were awake, here. Your mum has, finally, lodged a missing person's notice for you, but I wanted to discuss, with you, what you want me to do next."

 

Allan began to cry quite uncontrollably and between sobs, muttered "Please, Mat, don't send me back. I'd rather kill myself."

 

I put my arms around him and just stroked his head for many minutes. Finally, he calmed down and I said, "Please, young man, don't ever think like that again. I thought that you would not want to go back. Your step-father is still with your mum and she doesn't seem to be showing any signs of being willing to leave him. I have sufficient contacts to make sure that your step‑father is locked up for a long time. My agents have discovered that you were not the first boy he raped and abused; all three of those boys are now over 18 and willing to testify in court, your name won't even come into it. I wanted, though, to be sure that you were OK with my plan."

 

"Mat, I didn't know, I'm so sad for those other boys. If he did to them what he did to me, they must be very damaged souls. As for your plan, please do whatever you can to nail that bastard!"

 


 

"Yes, many of them are now in counselling; I hope to be able to offer jobs, to all of them, here at the school, very soon. I know you love your mum very much, but I am also concerned that if you went back to her, she might, inadvertently, expose you to yet another bad man. What I would like to do, with your permission, is, once your step-father has been taken into custody, visit your mother, tell her that I know where you are, but that I will only reunite you under two conditions, i.) that she comes to work here as a housekeeper and ii) that she agrees to hand over guardianship of you to me, you would become my ward, until you are 18, and I would ensure that you are safe at all times. For your own safety, I will not even allow your mother to be in your presence, except when there are other people around."

 

"You would do all that for me, Mat. I don't deserve it."

 

"Please Allan, don't speak like that, you are one of the boys I have rescued and, until you are 18, you are my responsibility, be you my ward or not."

 

Allan burst into tears again and just hugged me very tight. He even tried to French kiss me, but I stopped him. "No Allan, you don't have to do that for men anymore, and, definitely, not for me. It just gives me the utmost joy to see you safe, comfortable and happy."

 

Arrangements were made, just as I had discussed with Allan. Julie became our housekeeper. I found her a flat in town and her reunion, with Allan, was tearful, but she was happy to know that her son was now safe and would be likely to grow up to become a well-rounded adult. The step-father was imprisoned for 20 years, with a non-parole period of 15 years; he died in prison after just three years: once his fellow prisoners found out about what he'd done, his life wasn't worth living; he was knifed one night, the attacker was never discovered. The three men, the former victims of the step-father, are now all staff here: Joseph is the Administrator; Kent is the Groundskeeper; Jonathon is our PT and Sports teacher.

 

Allan was to need to wait for 2½ weeks short of 6 months for his apartment mate to arrive.

5. David Leeds, born on 28th June 1997 in Doaktown, New Brunswick;
15 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 6 Aug 2011

 

David arrived here, on foot, having travelled by train and bus, from Kingston. When he arrived, he gave Sebastian's password "Pigeon Sebastian Resolve". He seemed a little tired, but his emotions, which I sensed more, were fear and desperation. I invited him in and asked him to sit on the couch in the lounge room.

 

"What is your name, please, son?"

 

"David Leeds, I've run away from home, because my father, a drug addict, tried to rape me, on my 14th birthday."

 

"Thank you, David, my name is Mathew, please call me Mat. May I get you a drink?"

 

"A coke, please. Have you got any sandwiches, please?"

 

"What would you like? I think my kitchen can come up with anything a 14-year-old boy could desire"

 

"Peanut Butter and Jelly and, if I may have two, Pulled Pork or Roast Beef, please."

 

"Two sandwiches coming up."

 

I went to my kitchen and called Lucas. "Please come to the house, a 14-year-old boy named David has arrived, Sebastian sent him. From the little he has said, I think a younger presence might be helpful. If Gordon is willing, please bring him also."

 

I returned to the lounge room with not just two, but a dozen, sandwiches, all cut in fours. They included what David had requested but also some Ham and Cheese, and Turkey and Jelly sandwiches.

 

"David, I am very pleased that you met Sebastian and that you have come here. My colleague, Lucas, will join us soon, plus one of the other boys who I have recently rescued from the street; his name is Gordon and he is 13-years-old, but he is a clever lad."

 

Once Lucas and Gordon arrived, I asked David to tell us about why he had run away and what had been happening since.

 


 

"It was my 14th birthday, on the 28th of June, and my parents were both stoned from alcohol and drugs. My father came into my bedroom, where I was wont to spend most of my time, just to keep away from the drugs and booze; I had just had my morning shower and I was naked. My father said that he was very pleased with how beautiful a young man I had grown up into. He then went on to say that he wanted to make me into a real man by fucking me and also giving me 14 birthday spanks. I pushed my father away and he knocked his head against the wall and passed out. I checked he wasn't dead, packed my rucksack with as many of my clothes as would fit, tied my sleeping bag in the place for it, found my passport from the holiday we had to the Walt Disney World Resort in Orlando, Florida, when I was 9, before they got hooked on drugs, made sure I had my wallet, bank book and student identity card, took $100 from the housekeeping jar and left.

 

I hitched a lift from Doaktown to Fredericton, with a nice family who were British tourists; they said they were pleased to help a young man. Though they didn't ask, I told them that I was hitching to my grandparents in Fredericton, because money was low and I was trying to save. We arrived late afternoon; just as I was getting out of the car, the mother gave me $50 with the words, 'Have this, son, we hope you enjoy your time with your grandparents'. I was a bit taken aback but I simply said 'Thank you' and waved them goodbye. I found out that the bus to Quebec was the next day, so I stayed overnight at the Partners for Youth hostel. Quebec was as far as I could afford. I thought that I would then be in a big city and could find a way to earn a living, or maybe move on to Montreal or Toronto, so long as I was as far away from my loser parents as possible.

 

At Fredericton, I helped an older lady with her luggage, and she gave me a toonie. From this experience, I learnt that I could probably earn a bit of money, at train and bus stations, by carrying bags. What I didn't factor in, at least at the beginning, was that I might also meet gay guys there, who would pay me to do sex things with them. I was not completely naive: I had been wanking for over two years and I had spunked quite a lot; I had even taken part in a couple of circle jerks with some boys at school and I even saw one of my classmates suck another boy, but that was it.

 

The first guy I met was at the Gare du Palais in Quebec. I was at the urinals and this guy about 25-years-of-age walked up to the one beside me and the encounter went like this."

 

"I've seen you around the station earning change by carrying bags, how would you like to earn some real money?"

 

"Maybe, what do you want me to do?" "If you come out the back, in the staff area, take all your clothes off, allow me to take a few pictures while you pose for me and then let me suck you off and afterwards you would suck me, I'll pay you $80."

 

I thought to myself, "That doesn't sound too bad, but $150 seems a better figure, after all, I was underage."

 

I responded, "Eighty is not enough, one hundred and fifty and I'll do it, after all, I'm only 14!"


 

The dude then said, "Well for that much I want to at least take a few pictures of your asshole and to touch it, and put one finger up it."

 

"That would be $200 worth."

 

"$180, that's my last offer"

 

"True, I'll do it."

 

We went out to a staff-only area, which seemed to be quite deserted, and went into the disabled stall.

 

I was about to start taking my clothes off when the guy said, "Stop, I want to take pictures at each stage. Pose with as sexy a look as you can muster, please." I did my best and he snapped away.

 

He then put the baby change tray down, I hoped he wasn't going to ask me to lie on it, but he said, "That's just to put your clothes on, while I take each one off."

 

He took my jumper off, and had me pose again. He did that with each item of clothing, my shoes, my shirt, and my trousers. By now my cock was rising and it hurt a little being constricted in my y-fronts. He noticed this and smiled; he stroked the cotton over my cock and it hardened right up and tented my y-fronts. He took many pictures of the tent; he then felt inside my pants and adjusted my cock so I was more comfortable. He then knelt down and licked where my cock was. I was embarrassed that it felt good, I had never thought I might be gay; when I wanked I always thought of girls, though I had never actually seen a girl naked. After he had got my y-fronts well and truly wet, he took my singlet off and took more pictures He then leant in and kissed my nipples, he even bit them slightly and, much to my surprise, my cock jumped. He noticed this and said, while smiling, "Ooh you like that, kiddo, well done." Finally, he lowered my y-fronts and took more photos. After this, he took all his clothes off and put them beside mine, on the changing table. I could see he was fully hard but his cock only stood proud at about 4½" long. Mine was already 4", and I'd only been growing down there for a little over two years. He kissed my piss slit and then licked up and down the shaft. He then took my balls in his mouth and shook his head, the stimulation was fantastic. After that he went back to sucking my cock, he took it all in; I felt his stubble rub against my groin (I still had only a few hairs down there). After only about five minutes I tensed up and shot my load down his throat. He said, "Sweet, lovely innocent boy cum, thank you."

 


 

My cock didn't go down though, and he commented, "Very nice, boy, now I think it's time to see your rosebud." He turned me around and took hold of my butt, one cheek in each hand. He even gave my cheeks a couple of light slaps and, once again to my surprise, my cock jumped. He noticed the jump in the mirror. "Did you like that, boy?" "Maybe, I don't know, but I've slapped my bum a few times and it has excited me." "I'll give you $300 if you let me spank you, and take pictures." "I was shocked at myself, but I said, OK." He picked up his belt from the changing table and sat on the toilet, with the seat and top down. He then told me to lie across his lap. I went to his right by the wall and laid across his lap. He started by giving me half a dozen slaps with his hand; they hurt a little but not too bad. I heard the clicks of the camera. He then took his belt, looped it and started belting me, quite hard, I screamed at the first one, he leant across and grabbed my y-fronts; he then stuffed them in my mouth as a gag. After the second I started to cry and after the sixth, I was just bawling. He took more pictures of my ass and even made me turn my head around so he could take pictures of my red crying face. After that, he licked his middle finger and pushed it into my ass, and he moved it around in there. Again I yelled a bit, but also felt a funny sensation that strangely excited me; I later learnt he had been massaging my prostate. By now I had calmed down a bit, and though my bum was still stinging, I was, much to my amazement, actually enjoying what the guy was doing to me."

 

After a while he stood me back on my feet and told me to sit on the toilet, I winced, so he folded up my shirt and trousers into a sort of pillow. He then said it was time for me to copy his actions and suck his cock and balls. I copied all his actions and he seemed to be liking my first-time efforts; after about five minutes, he slid his cock, which had been all the way down my throat, out of my mouth and said, "Your cock jumped when my finger was up your shit chute, how would you like to earn a total of $500." "How?" "If you let me fuck you." By now I was, somehow, really getting into this sexual exploration, so I said, "True, you should know I've never done this before." "Great, a cherry-popping." He leant across to his trousers and pulled out a small sachet of lube. He told me to stand up and put some of the lube on his cock and the rest in my hole. "My cock's quite small, the result of an accident when I was a boy, so this shouldn't hurt too much. Also, you will control this, because you will bounce up and down on my cock." He sat down on the toilet and told me to face him. He then firmly grasped my waist and lowered me onto his cock. At the first attempt I clamped up, so he turned me around again and licked and stroked my pucker until it started to relax and open. He then turned me around again and lowered me for the second time. This time the head popped through and he lowered me slowly, over about two minutes. I initially screamed a bit and yelled, "Stop, it hurts." but the guy whispered back, "Just push through the pain, you'll start enjoying this in a minute or two." After a couple of minutes, I relaxed and began to enjoy it, I felt tingles throughout my body, like I'd never felt before. He kissed me and said, "Good boy, are you enjoying your first fuck in your boy-cunt?" "Yes, pinch my nipples please, squeeze my cock, harder, fuck me harder. He lifted me up and with his phallus still in me he laid me on the floor on my back. I again said, "Harder, harder and after only another three or four minutes I blew my load over my chest and face. He also blew his load up my arse. I felt half a dozen strong shots and I felt good. After that, he licked my cum off my chest and fed me with some of my cum that he had scooped off my face. He said, "Keep it in your mouth, and then we engaged in a cummy French kiss.

He then told me to stay still and licked up his cum, which was drooling out of my ass. He then French-kissed me again and we shared the taste of his cum mixed with my ass juices. By now, I was really getting into this; so, I knelt down and cleaned his cock. He said, "Thank you, that was very good of you." He then lifted me up and embraced me most gently. "Thank you very much, lad, you have been a very good boy and just because you have been so good, I am going to give you $600. I have some salve here and I would like to rub it into your bum, it will help soothe it. Please lay across my lap, like you did before; I promise I won't spank you again." I did so lay; he first kissed and licked me all over my bum, which felt very sexy, my cock even began to rise again, and then he very tenderly caressed and massaged my bum with some marjoram oil. By the time he was finished, the pain was almost completely gone. He then dressed me, just like my mother had done when I was much younger and before all the drug-taking started, paid me the $600 in twelve fifty dollar notes and then he dressed. He gave me one final very touching kiss and then led me back to the main station concourse.

 

I still had, in my mind, the idea to move as far away from my parents as possible. You might be thinking about why I wasn't using the money in my bank book. The problem with that was that though I could deposit money on my own, I could only withdraw money, until I am 18, with one of my parents present. There's nearly $2,000 in the account, at least it's accruing interest. I decided to move on to Montreal, and now that I had nearly $800, I could afford to stay in a youth hostel for a few nights, but that would run the money out quite quickly, so I decided on just a couple of nights, so I could freshen up and wash my clothes.

 

In Montreal, I went one lunch-time to a McDicks. Whilst I was trying my best to blend in and the time, at the hostel, had allowed me to freshen up and clean my clothes, I was still obviously an outsider. After all, I was only 14, on my own, and scared of being found and sent back to my parents, or being put in foster care. I had only bought a Cheeseburger Happy Meal, in order to stretch my money so best as I could. The McDicks was fairly busy; though I initially found an empty two-person table, when I was about halfway through, a guy about 30‑years‑old asked if he might sit on the spare seat at my table. The place was now very packed so I said Yes. I don't know why but, as he sat down, the guy said, "Hi, I'm Sebastian, may I know yours, please?" Before thinking, I said, "David." Sebastian didn't hold back, he came straight to the point, "I couldn't help but see you are on your own, lad. Are your parents nearby?" I don't know what it was about the guy, but I felt a strange warmth flowing from him, he didn't seem to be a cop or a welfare guy, so I took the risk and told him what had been happening, for me, over the previous fortnight.

 


 

Sebastian listened to me quite attentively; I had never known an adult, before, who seemed to be genuinely interested in what I was saying. After I had finished, Sebastian looked straight at me and said, "You have been very fortunate, young man. What you experienced in Quebec was quite mild, compared to what has happened to many young boys like yourself. There are ugly people who enjoy getting young boys, like you, hooked on drugs, others will use you for prostitution, and many young runaway boys just simply disappear, because horrid people do what they want to do and then kill the unfortunate boy. I am a friend of a man in Orangeville, who has set up a special haven for boys like you. All I can tell you, because this is all I know, is that if you go there you will eat better food than you could imagine, plus you will be accommodated and educated to a standard fit for royalty. You will also never be forced, or even encouraged, to do things like you did in Quebec, with adult men, unless you clearly, of your own free will, express a desire to do so. I believe that appropriate arrangements will also be made to ensure that you are not troubled by your parents again. All I have further to say is these three words, 'Pigeon Sebastian Resolve'. Please repeat them to me, three times."

 

I did just that and Sebastian concluded by gently touching me on my left shoulder and saying, "Get yourself to the Orangeville Boys Academy, and you will be safe. Here's $200 to help you get there. I hope you make a wise decision!" He then stood up and left. I was still hungry; figuring Sebastian had given me the money for food and fares. I bought a large Big Mac Meal and headed to the station. I worked out that the best way, to get to Orangeville, was train to Toronto and then bus to here. I bought a ticket to Toronto and boarded the next train. At Toronto, I went to the toilets and that was where my troubles really began. I was just finishing my pee when this guy came up behind me and put this chloroform pad over my mouth and nose; I slumped in his arms but he only used a small amount so he could lead me out of the toilet in a way that looked like a dad helping his son back to their car when he was sick. I was bundled into a car where a gag was tied around my mouth and I was covered with a blanket.

 

We drove for some time and I woke up in a basement car park. One of the guy's accomplices had grabbed my rucksack, so they knew my name. "Now, David, you be a good boy and do as you're told and you'll live, disobey and you'll die." I saw the guy's eyes; I knew I had entered the kind of hell that Sebastian had told me about. Over the next few weeks, I was made to do things that I had never even imagined. At least with the guy in Quebec, he was nice to me in the long run; these guys were totally brutal. It started fairly OK, even though, soon after I arrived at that place, my clothes were forcibly ripped off me, while the process was being filmed, and then I was put in an orange overall, like a prisoner. I very soon realised that was exactly what I was. It started with posing nude and giving blowjobs to various men, but after about ten days, things got heavier. One day, I was put on a crucifix thing and was whipped, caned, paddled, belted and beaten till I was black and blue and hollering profusely. The more I begged them to stop they just laughed and said things like, "Slave, shut up, you're a boy whore now, just get used to it." That happened to me at least three times.


 

After such thrashings my cock was sucked by a boy who didn't look older than about 10‑years‑of‑age; sadly, he had drug marks on his arms. During the next couple of weeks, I was forced to fuck several quite young boys and I was fucked by many different men. All these events were filmed and photographed. They tried to force drugs on me, but I refused, for which my cock got whipped twenty times; I had seen the effect on my parents and I did not want to end up like them, even though I also realised that there was a strong likelihood that I was going to die in that place. When we were put into sessions, we were given our normal clothes to dress in and then they were removed, by the guy we were with. One day, one of the guys, who was about to fuck me, made a mistake and forgot to lock the door of the studio, when he was being filmed whilst being fluffed by one of the younger boys. I took a chance, after all, I seemed to be heading to death soon anyway. I found a way out and just ran; fortunately, the guys had not found the $100 I had sewn into the lining of my trousers. I found out that I was in Kingston; I bought a local ticket, so I didn't have to show my ID. Taking a risk, I hid myself in the train loo and got to Toronto. I again bought a local ticket to Brampton and then a bus ticket to Orangeville; the bus driver, who seemed to know you, even took a detour to drop me right at your gate. My rucksack is still back there, I suppose I've lost that now."

 

David had, amazingly. been keeping his composure, right up till that point, in his account, but then he started to cry uncontrollably, he uttered just a few more words, "Am I safe now, just like Sebastian said?"

 

"David, you are most certainly safe." Gordon and Lucas moved to sit on either side of David and put their arms around him. "Gordon said, don't worry, David, you have done the right thing. I was Mat's first rescue and I've been here for 1½ months. I've never been happier in all my life, I ran away, from my parent's house, because I was bullied incessantly by my big brother, and now I know I have found a home, at last."

 

"David, if I have anything to do with it, we will recover your rucksack. For now, Gordon and Lucas will take you to your apartment. I would like, though, to talk to you again, in the morning, once you are rested. I want to rescue all the boys at that kiddy porn studio, if I can."


 

The next morning, I asked David to try to tell me as much as he could remember about the studio and where it was. David provided me with some very good information. I was able to use my contacts to shut down the kiddy porn studio, in Kingston, before the end of that day. It was fortunate that I was able to move so quickly as there was clear evidence that the men had been packing up to move. I rescued the 10-year-old, who actually turned out to be a 12‑year‑old, named Quentin Fortescue. At the same time, I rescued 14 other boys, aged between 3 and 14; their names and ages, at the time of rescue, were: -


       Archibald Holderness (14),

       Douglas Chappell (13),

       Fergus MacDermott (12),

       Harold Stone (12),

       Jeremy Howard (11),

       Kevin Jukes (11),

       Lionel Grimsby (10).

       Neil Grimsby (8),

       Christmas Waldon (8),

       Peter Fisher (7),

       Svenson Lindquist (6),

       Talbot Tasker (4),

       Randall Windsor (4).

       Brenton Waldorf (3)


 

I was also able to take hold of thousands of photos, and hundreds of films, which would provide me information to enable me to search for many other victims of the kiddy porn ring, both here in Canada, and overseas. That rescue occurred on Sunday, 7th August 2011. Due to their severe trauma, and, in many cases, drug and/or alcohol addiction, plus, often, smoking dependency, they have been being housed in a special rehabilitation unit, which I built, at the same time as I built the school, in Grand Valley, 12 miles west. There is even a foot and cycle tunnel from here to there, so I may visit. There are 2 doctors, 4 psychologists, 8 educational therapists, 4 sexual counsellors, 8 nurses, and 2 housekeepers, on the staff of the Grand Valley Rehabilitation Clinic. I regret that even though you will now be directors, along with me, I must ask you to not go to Grand Valley: most of the boys are now recovered, but many are still on a knife-edge, so to say; I am advised that they all need just a few more months, before they can join us. I do hope, though, that there will be over 40 people at our Christmas 2012 Party, most of whom will be Orangeville Boys Academy pupils; all the rest will be staff.

 

Just in case you are wondering, the clinic patients enjoy luxurious apartments, which are just as well-appointed as the school's apartments. They are, though, mostly in single apartments, with the exception of the Grimsby brothers whom, much to my surprise, and disgust, turned out to be the sons of the kiddy porn proprietor. Due to their experiences, most of the boys are gay, or gay-inclined, and whilst there has been no dissuasion put upon the boys, with regard to their coupling up, the boys have also received extensive sexual therapy, and psychological counselling, so that the staff, and they, are certain that they are making a freewill choice, for their future. Where true and honest loving partnerships have developed, which has happened in the case of the six older boys, they have been moved into double apartments, with the appropriate double bed, in place, of course.

6. Paul Bradford, born on 23rd February 1997 in Belleville, Ontario;
15 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 6 Aug 2011

 

It was just about 11.45 p.m., at which time I had already been in bed for about an hour, when the gate buzzer rang. The Front Gate Security had already gone home for the night, at 11.00 p.m. I looked at the screen, for the gate camera feed, and saw a 14-year-old boy, who looked quite tired. I buzzed him in and directed him to come to the first house on the left; as you know, my house is less than 200 yards from the front gate.

 

The boy gave the password, 'Swallow Trevor Flight', when I opened the door; he then, nigh‑on, collapsed into my arms. All I could do at that point was to lovingly take his shoes, jumper, shirt and trousers off and lay him in my bed. I put my sheet and blankets over him and retired to the couch, after collecting some spare blankets from the linen cupboard. At about 4.30 a.m. I heard the boy wandering around the house. He was looking for the toilet and he found me; I led him there, waited for him, and then put him back in bed.

 

At about 11.00 a.m., just after I had finished my chat with David, my late-night visitor woke up and again wandered out into the living area, after having relieved himself in the bathroom. David was just leaving, and was surprised to see a boy, of his own age, wandering around in his underwear.

 

David said, in a rather shocked voice, "Hey, Mat, what's going on? I thought you said you were into men, not boys!"

 

"That's true, David. This boy arrived at my gate, last night, just before midnight, in an exhausted state. He said one of my passwords, just like you did, and collapsed into my arms. I undressed him to his socks and underwear, put him in my bed and I slept on the couch; the guest room wasn't properly ready. I don't even know his name!"

 

"That's Paul, Mat, Paul Bradford."

 

"Pleased to meet you, Paul. Would you mind if David stays? If you agree to stay, David will be your roommate in apartment #4. He also only arrived just yesterday, after some quite harrowing experiences, which he might choose to share with you one day. Please tell us what has been happening for you, which brought you to my haven."

 

As Paul started speaking, I pressed my special button for Lucas.

 

"I was born and brought up in Belleville. My Dad died when I was 6½. Sadly, my Mum died on Tuesday 26th July, the funeral was on Thursday 28th July. My father's brother attended the funeral, but he said he was not willing to take me home, as he already had three of my cousins at home and, therefore, could not afford to take me home. I have no relatives on my mother's side. My uncle arranged for me to be put in a children's home and I arrived there at 5.00 p.m. on Thursday 28th July. I was put in a room with two other 14-year-olds and an older boy of 16. I was still very much grieving and would have preferred to be on my own; I was feeling quite uncomfortable."


 

At this point, Lucas arrived and quietly sat down.

 

"Paul, this is Lucas, one of the teachers at this haven, which is also called a school. Please continue."

 

"When I went to the toilet, at about 1.00 a.m., the older boy followed me and tried to make me do sex things with him. He said it was an initiation for being allowed to stay in the same room as him. I refused and he put me across his knee and spanked me for refusing. He closed with the words 'You'll obey next time, or you'll get double and next time with a cane.'"

 

The next morning, Friday 29th July, while we were outside, I found a hole in the fence and ran. I didn't know where I was going but I knew that my uncle lived in Hanover, which was over 200 miles away, at least 10 days walk. I thought to myself that maybe, if my uncle heard what had happened, he would change his mind. I kept myself alive by scavenging in bins and eating some country food; I had passed Exploring, Earth, and Pioneering Badges, at Scouts. Eight days later yesterday evening, about 8.00 p.m., I was trudging along the road from Peterborough to Lindsay. A truck, driven by Trevor, stopped beside me; by now I was very exhausted and in quite some pain. Trevor said he could take me as far as Orangeville. He saw the bad way I was in. I told him I was trying to get to my uncle's place in Hanover after nearly being raped, and then spanked, by a 16-year-old, at the children's home where I had been put after my uncle had declined to take me in after the death of my mother, and I had become an orphan. Trevor asked me my name. I said Paul and he then ushered me to lie down in the cabin at the back. I was a bit suspicious; I'd heard about truck drivers who picked up boys and did sex things with them."

 

He said, "Don't worry, Paul, I just want you to rest, you look quite exhausted."

 

"After less than half an hour the truck stopped, in Lindsay, and Trevor woke me up. Before I take you to Orangeville, I think you need a feed. Is McDicks OK?"

 

"I've got no money."

 

"Don't worry about that, it's my treat, I'm just pleased to be able to help you."

 

"He told me I might have anything I liked. Even though I was quite hungry I knew, from my Scout Cooking badge studies, that it would not be good to eat a big lot of food after having been eating only small amounts, for some days, so I just had a Small Double Cheeseburger Happy Meal, with orange juice. I said to Trevor, 'I'll only have a small meal, because I haven't eaten much over the last 10 days; I don't want to make myself sick."

 


 

"I went back to sleep, after we left Lindsay, but Trevor woke me about half an hour before we arrived here. He asked me to come up and sit beside him on the passenger seat. He said that he knew I wanted to get to Hanover but he was heading in a different direction and that he had, in fact, come slightly out of his way to bring me to Orangeville, but he wanted to get me to somewhere safe. He said he would drop me at the gates of a school, whose headmaster was a guy called Matthew, but that I may call him Mat. He told me that the school has been specially built, by Mat, to rescue boys like me. He said that he knew I was seeking to go to my uncle's place, but he also warned me that I should consider that since my uncle had rejected me once before, he may do so again. He told me that you, Mat, would contact my uncle, to check whether he wanted me or not, and if he didn't, I would be able to live at the school, until I am an adult, totally free of any charge."

 

With this, Paul slumped his shoulders and sighed. He then simply asked, "Did Trevor tell me the truth, Mat?"

 

"Yes, Paul, if your uncle won't take you in, you will become the sixth scholar at the Orangeville Boys Academy and you will be housed, clothed and fed, at no cost to yourself or your extended family, until you are at least 18."

 

I asked Lucas to find some clean clothes for Paul and to show him the shower. I asked David to wait until Paul was ready and to then walk him back to the apartment. I rang Paul's uncle and explained who I was and why I was calling. I asked if he was willing to take Paul in. The uncle still said no; he didn't even seem to show much concern about what had happened to Paul. I asked him if he would sign papers granting me guardianship over Paul; he said he would. Paul moved into Apartment #5 and, within a few weeks, became my ward.

 


 

7. Lachlan Mitchell, born on 4th March 1997 in Kentville, Nova Scotia;
15 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 7 Jan 2012

 

Lachlan has one of the more dramatic life histories, prior to his arrival here in January. He was certainly one of the most travelled. Lachlan was born and brought up in Kentville, Nova Scotia. Kentville is a small town about 1,000 miles east of here, only 300 miles from the eastern edge of Nova Scotia, so quite some way away and quite remote. Eventually, Lachlan, travelled about 1,100 miles at the rate of about 20 miles a day, before reaching the safety of this school.

 

Lachlan was not interested in schoolwork; his yearnings and passions were for the outdoors. He had been failing most of his subjects at school and decided, after the end of the 2010-11 academic year, that he just couldn't cope with another year of school. On August 10, 2011, he decided to head out, with the aim of crossing Canada on foot. He had $1,000 saved from many years of Christmas and birthday presents.

 

Heading east from Kentville, he decided to go the long way around towards the west by not using the ferry, because he was too well known. He wandered around Nova Scotia for a few weeks then moved into New Brunswick and then into Quebec and Ontario. What turned out to be his final stop was at Niagara Falls.

 

I was towards the end of just under a fortnight away, with Gordon, Zachary, Roger, Allan, David, Paul and Lucas, and, of course, Leo. Yes, Patrick, now you get to know what Leo was doing for Christmas/New Year 2011/12. We had left Orangeville on Boxing Day 2011 and headed out via Ottawa, Montreal, Quebec City, Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington DC, Pittsburgh and our last stop was Niagara Falls, a round trip of 1,900 miles over 12 days. We had done all the normal touristy things like: - Parliament House, Ottawa; Le Château Frontenac, Quebec; Olympic Games venues in Montreal; the Freedom Trail in Boston; the Empire State Building and the National September 11 Memorial & Museum in New York; the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia; the White House, and all the memorials, in Washington, a tour of Liberty Avenue (Queer as Folk relevant) in Pittsburgh and then finally to Niagara Falls. Even though we were only 100 miles from home, we decided to stay at one last youth hostel, for the trip, at the Niagara Falls Youth Hostel on Cataract Avenue.

 

Being quite explicit about who I was, and the nature of the school I ran, I had made a habit of arranging a meeting with the hostel manager at every youth hostel, at which we had stayed. I told them about the mission of the school and that 6 of the boys with me were my first 6 pupils; I encouraged the managers to talk to the boys about their experiences at my school, in order to check me out, so to say. Lucas shared his teaching experiences and Leo, the good cousin that he was, lauded me to the nines.

 


 

It was at Quebec that we first heard about Lachlan. It seems he had been there, just a few weeks before our visit, but he had left after only a couple of days. The manager had tried to encourage him to stay longer (free of charge); even by then he was not looking very fit. Lachlan, it seemed, was a very principled boy and declined the manager's offer. I met with the manager at Niagara Falls at about 8.00 p.m. and he shared with me that all the hostel managers in Canada had been watching out for Lachlan, since his time at Quebec. He had been seen a few times but always kept to his routine of just a couple of days to properly clean up, then he moved on. It seemed, though, that our guiding light was to be with us that day. Lachlan had arrived that same morning; he had gone to the Falls but, when he returned to the hostel, he had been looking quite piqued. The front desk assistant had immediately spoken to the manager and Lachlan had been gently taken aside and ushered into the manager's private guest quarters.

 

"He's still there, now. I don't think he will wake until the morning."

 

"Would it be possible for myself, plus Lucas and Leo, my cousins, to stay in your guest quarters' lounge room, please? I'm very worried about this boy and I want to offer him a new home, but if I try to do that in the general hostel, he will probably run. If we greet him as he gets up, then we might be successful."

 

"Of course, Matthew. I'll set up three camp beds. Will your boys be OK?"

 

"Oh, yes, Garry. They'll have a ball. You gave us a room on our own. I'll just go and explain. I'll be back in a few minutes."

 

"Hello boys, having fun?"

 

"Of course, Matthew; this has been the greatest holiday ever.", were the words of Gordon, natural spokesperson for the group.

 

"Boys, Lucas, Leo and myself are sleeping in the manager's guest quarters tonight. This is not to exclude you. In fact, I suspect you'll enjoy not having me watching over you for a night. We have found Lachlan, but he is not well and he is in the guest quarters sleeping. We will be waiting for him in the lounge room of the manager's guest quarters. Be good, play nicely, in all ways, and be polite to all the other hostellers, won't you."

 

"Of course, Matthew; good fortune be with you."

 

There was an ensuite, in Lachlan's room, so, though we heard him moving around a couple of times in the night, we did not meet him until just after 8.00 a.m. on the morning of Saturday, 7th January, 2012.

 

"Hello, who are you, hostel full?"

 

"Hello Lachlan, my name's Matthew and these are my cousins Lucas and Leo; we've been hoping to meet you for the last couple of weeks."

 


 

"Uh, uh, why's that?"

 

"Because we've been worried about you. The hostel manager at Quebec told us about you and, even though you don't know about it, every hostel manager for 1,000 miles around has been watching out for you. We know you're a tough lad and clearly seem to be on some kind of a mission, but I don't think you're going to last the week, unless you get some help. The hostel manager put you to bed yesterday with a temperature of 100°F. While you're not really sick, as I can see this morning, you're not in the best of health either, are you?"

 

"What's that to you, you nosey-parker. I just want to do my own thing. I'm crossing Canada, on foot. I hope to be in British Columbia for the summer."

 

"Well, Lachlan, my dear boy, I don't think you will make it past Toronto. There are two possibilities I can see for you. One, you're going to pass out by a deserted road, and die, or, two, you're going to be kidnapped by some sex fiend, you really are a very beautiful young man, despite your dishevelment. I want to offer you a third possibility. Leo, go and fetch all the boys, please. Lucas, tell Lachlan who you are and what you do, please."

 

"Hello, Lachlan, I am the teacher at the Orangeville Boy's Academy. There will be more teachers later, and we have a few specialists coming in for their subjects; they go away again after they have given their lessons: all the scholars and I, though, live in private apartments at the school. My cousin Matthew has created a school that no other school, in the whole world, can rival, in terms of its accommodation. Every boy has a private apartment, if they so choose. Some of the boys have chosen to share as couples, but no apartment has more than two people in it. The school is also a farm and all the boys help out there too. There are extensive grounds and we have horses to ride, cattle for milk, and sheep for wool. The grounds of the school are quite extensive and there are many places where a boy can go off and spend time on their own, or with a friend, and, basically, Lachlan, the place is a boy's heaven on earth."

 

By now the six scholars of the school had assembled and were sitting around Lachlan.

 

"Thank you for coming, boys. Would each of you, please, to the extent that you're comfortable, tell Lachlan how you came to the Academy and, briefly, what you have felt about your experiences since."

 

Each boy then did share with Lachlan what had brought them to the academy and what had been happening since. By the end, Lachlan was deeply in tears. Lucas and Leo sat either side of him, laying their arms over his shoulders.

 

"Thank you. I didn't know how risky it was out there. I think I've been very lucky. Let me tell you some of what's happened to me.

 

Though I'm only 14, I'm quite tall for my age and, up until recently, I was also quite well-built and muscly. I ran away from home in Nova Scotia because school just wasn't doing it for me. I've always been an outdoors type and I just couldn't hack school anymore, so I decided to walk across Canada, go and see the Pacific; I've lived quite near the Atlantic all my life.


 

When I first set out, I looked quite a bit older than my true years and I was able to pick up quite a bit of chores work here and there. It earned me enough money to regularly stay in youth hostels and the like, always for only a couple of nights at a time. I avoided cities because I'm a country boy, but quite a few of the hostels were in cities so I would hike to the edge of such places and catch the local metro or bus to the hostel. I'd picked up a handbook at the first hostel I visited, which was at Wentworth, Nova Scotia, on my third night out. I needed to eke my money out; I regularly raided the common food shelves and that saved me money too. By mid‑November though, the weather was getting colder and colder and I started looking for ways to find shelter on a more constant basis.

 

I had been happily sleeping out in the open, when I wasn't in a hostel, but now I started looking for barns or other forms of shelter. It was on one of those nights that I endured my first experience of what, it seems, all of you are quite used to.

 

The barn was fairly remote, so I thought it would be OK, but, about 8.00 p.m., this young farmer, he would have been in his late twenties, came to the barn, and found me. Fortunately, he was a gentle guy and he just asked me whether I would prefer a proper bed, rather than a hay bale. It had been over a week since I'd been at a hostel, so, a little carelessly, I jumped at the opportunity and simply said, "Yes, please."

 

He took me back to the farmhouse and told me that he was just on his own on the farm. He had day workers, but they lived in town; he was out here alone. He fed me a good dinner of Split Pea Soup, Bannock, Smoked Meat, Tourtière, Ketchup Chips, and Saskatoon Berry Pie.

 

By now it was a bit after 10.00 p.m. and he offered me the couch.

 

Cheekily, I said, "What about the bed you offered?"

 

And he, similarly, bounced straight back with these words, "Well, there's only one, and that comes with conditions. There's a reason I'm out here on my own, I'm gay. You can sleep in my bed, if you'll let me fuck you. I'll try to be quite gentle but it will be a good hard fuck."

 

"That was the first time. I thought for a few moments and then I said Yes. I was only 14, and he was over ten years older than me, but he had a nice face and he wasn't brutal or anything."

 

He got me to undress in the front room, where the fire was, and leave my clothes there. He then picked me up, like I was a baby, and carried me to his bedroom. He laid me on the bed, undressed himself and then knelt over my head and leant forward to suck my cock. He was quite slow about it; I just responded by doing the same to his dick, which was just hanging there, right above my mouth. I kissed it, licked the glans and then up and down either side of his hardness. I sucked his balls and then I took his cock in my mouth. He wasn't that big, maybe about 6". I took it all the way down, gagged a bit, but Nat seemed to like it.

 

After about twenty minutes, he raised himself up and said, "It's time, lad. Lift your legs on to my shoulder and present your hole to me."

 


 

I did just that and he rimmed me; that was nice: that treatment opened me up well.

 

He then lined his cock up with my starfish and pushed it in.

 

I screamed and he pulled out.

 

"Are you OK, we can stop if you want, but I would like to pop your cherry if you'll let me."

 

"Go ahead, Nat, it was just my initial response. You're being quite gentle. I want to thank you properly, for the food and bed. So, go ahead, mount me."

 

He pushed in again and it hurt less the second time. Eventually, he had his cock all the way in; I could feel his pubes rubbing on my bottie. He then rode me hard and I cried a bit, but we both came together after about 20 minutes. He licked up my cum and then fed me, from his hand, the mixture of his cum and my ass juices, which were leaking out of my now de-flowered pussy. We exchanged a long and deep cummy French kiss and fell asleep in each other's arms.

 

In the morning he fed me a lovely breakfast of hotcakes and maple syrup, with OJ; he gave me a lift to the very edge of his farm, which put me about 10 miles further on in my journey. As I hopped down from the tractor, he patted my bum and said, "Thank you, Lachy, here's $50, you were worth it."

 

That was my first, but not last, gay sex. I had other encounters in toilets, and a few other house visits, after being caught in barns. I got spanked quite a bit and my cock even got willy‑whipped a few times, but I survived and earned quite a bit of money; the most I received, on any one occasion, was when I got filmed in a barn. I was tied up and whipped, caned, spanked and fucked plus my cock was quite roughly treated (squeezing and twisting); none of it was really nasty; it just hurt a lot. Anyway, that earned me $1,000, of which I still have $500. None of the experiences were as nice as that first time with Nat, though. In retrospect, I'd have happily stayed with Nat, but he said it wouldn't be safe. Maybe I'll visit him when I'm an adult,

 

I'm not sure about all this mention of school though; that's what I've run away from. Your place sounds nice, but school, I'm not interested."

 

"Well, Lachlan, do you know, it was just before Christmas, only a few days before all of us came on this holiday, when my dairyman told me that he liked the help from the boys, but he wished one of them would really take an interest in the farm and become his full-time apprentice. He grumbled that most boys, these days, are into computers and video games; he needed someone who was happy to get his hands dirty, whom he could take under his wing and with whom he could share all his farming skills and knowledge."

 

"That sounds OK, and I don't have to pay anything?"

 


 

"That's right, Lachlan, all I ask is you be yourself and do your best to get along with everybody. My door is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, every day of the year; if you have any problems, I'm there to sort things out and, if I happen to be away, Lucas will be there."

 

"I'll give it a go, I'm not promising anything but you all seem genuine guys and things have been getting tough, just like I shared with you. I hope you don't expect me to do more of the gay stuff, though. I only did that to earn a bit of money and get some shelter. I'm not saying I'll never do it again but, for now, I just want to get back to normal, so to say. So, as long as that's understood, I'll go with you."

 

"Lachlan, thank you. You will have your own apartment and your body is yours to control. There are only boys and men at the academy, but the town is nearby; all the boys are encouraged to feel free to visit the town and mix with the local population. If you do find a girlfriend, all I ask is you tell me, and then I can issue her a passcard to your apartment, if you want me to."

 

"Well, that's settled then, when do we leave?"

 

"We'll be leaving just after 10.00 a.m."

 

The group that returned to Orangeville, on Saturday, January 7th was, therefore, one boy stronger.

 

Lachlan did become the farm apprentice and he is still here to this day. He is not a pupil, he is a paid apprentice, but he still has the apartment as my gift. I hope he will stay with the school and farm for many, many years to come. For now, he is a very happy youth and fits in well with everybody; that is, of course, made all the more possible because of his partner. Yes, with Lachy's agreement, I contacted Nat and he came and joined us here. He works on the farm and sleeps with Lachy every night. Nat chooses not to use the central dining room, but he and Lachy have a habit of inviting one or two of the boys to their Saturday family dinner; I'm, therefore, sure you'll meet Nat soon.

 


 

8. Anthony Winchester, born on 14th March 1998 in Strathroy, Ontario; 14 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 9 April 2012

 

Anthony is a runaway from chronic abuse; he is one of the most damaged scholars whom we are pleased to be looking after. Anthony unburdened himself to Brian, our policeman friend in Belwood, with the hope that he would be sent to a good foster home. Brian did much better than that and brought Anthony here. This is his story.

 

Anthony's mother died in giving birth to him. His father raised him and was the man doing all the abuse.

 

So far as I can tell, the abuse commenced on his first birthday and has become worse as the years went by. He has been being finger fucked on his birthday ever since he can remember. 1 finger to age 6, 2 to age 9, 3 to age 12, and on his 12th 4 fingers.

 

He has also been receiving regular punishments including being led around the house on a rope tied around his cock.

 

His father has also been checking every birthday for signs of pubic hair growth. On his 12th birthday, they showed; the father said "You're growing hairs now, so you can produce spunk, you dirty little brat. You're open slather now."

 

His father proceeded to beat him with hand, ruler and paddle; he then introduced Anthony to his 12th birthday present - a crucifix. He was tied to it, and beaten in lots of ways, while his penis was caged, until he was black and blue. Anthony was then fucked, and deeply douched, until he was totally empty. He was then left on the crucifix overnight, out in the back shed.

 

On the next day, he was brought into his bed and tied, in a spreadeagle, to new equipment, which had been installed on his bed. He was left there, with his cock in a cage and a bottle hanging in front of it. He was fed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a week, and douched each day. He had to void into a bedpan. His cock cage was removed regularly, for cleaning; at those times, his cock was willy-whipped 20 or 30 times, on each occasion.

 

After a week he was unfettered and told that he had now been properly initiated into being a gay boy-whore. and that similar, but less severe, punishments would occur each month on the same day number of his birthday. He was given new clothes and allowed to live a 'normal' life again.

 

None of this abusive treatment ever came to the light of the authorities, because he was home‑schooled. His father did a good job of that, through the primary years; Anthony wondered, though, if the secondary years would be as good.

 

Since Anthony was 4 years of age, a friend of his dad had been living with them; he was, of course, also taking part in all this abuse of Anthony.

 

Each abusive session would start with Anthony giving both his father and the friend a kiss, at the door of his bedroom. The friend would then handcuff him, he was then dragged, kicking and screaming, to the shed. He would call them both dirty names, all the way. His legs would get spread apart and the abuse would begin.

 


 

On Anthony's 12th birthday, there was a new development, in that, after the four fingers from his father, he had to take the friend's fist up his boy-cunt. This was all before any cock was inserted to punish him. During this very violent 12th birthday session, Anthony used a lot of colourful language telling them how much he hated both of them

 

After his experiences on his 12th birthday, Anthony decided that he must escape; accordingly, he started drugging his father's and the friend's night time drinks, using increasing amounts of Oxy-Contin, which had been left over from when the friend had leg problems, a few years earlier, before he had his bypass. After about 4 days, they passed out; he grabbed his bike and just rode, hell for leather, for about 5 days. He travelled 200 miles, using the M.S Chi‑Cheemaun passenger ferry, to cross Luke Huron, from South Baymouth on Manitoulin Island to Tobermory, Bruce Peninsula.

 

In a café in Belwood, he found Brian, a policeman, the same policeman who helped in the rescue of Zachary. Brian knew that the school would be the right place for Anthony. Anthony was brought to the school and was given an apartment of his own. Anthony did not immediately look to be interested in pairing up with any of the other boys, but then, Philip, our next scholar, arrived, just two weeks later.

 

Brian made contact with his mate Barclay, another policeman, who was based in the area from which Anthony escaped. They travelled to the remote farm in late November and fixed a fire to make it look as though a bad log had caused sparks and set the place alight. Anthony's father and his friend were burnt alive. Barclay ensured that there was never any investigation.

 


 

9. Philip Sumpter, born on 1st December 1999 in Flint, Michigan; 12 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 23 Apr 2012

 

Philip, one of our American cousins, ran away from home in February 2012. Philip had been badly bullied at school, ever since he was at Kindy. He had looked forward to High School, hoping things would improve. Sadly, they just got worse. His parents didn't seem to care, they would tell him things like, "Toughen up kid, stick up for yourself!" Philip was not like that, he was a gentle soul and had known he was gay, ever since he was 9-years-of-age.

 

In Sarnia, Michigan, Philip met a guy in a public toilet, who seduced him and smuggled him back to his house on the Canadian side of the border. Philip was very naïve about gay sex; all he knew was, he liked looking at the other boy's cocks. The man fed Philip well and then showed him some man with underage boys porn; in fact, the man was his host. The man offered to pay Philip a few hundred dollars if he would do things like those that were shown in the vids that they were watching, which only depicted some sucking and fucking.

 

Philip agreed and went to the guy's bedroom where he undressed and the filming began. What Philip didn't know was that his meal and drinks had been drugged and so after about an hour of fairly vanilla gay sex, during which time he was sucked, he sucked and he was fucked, he passed out.

 

He woke to find himself tied up, hanging by his arms and legs, and spreadeagled. He found attached to, and inside, himself: -

·        Nipple clamps

·        A butt plug

·        A cage with just a few holes in it (a Santchcz Stainless Steel Breathable Cage)

·        A ribbed sound inside his cock

·        A screw clamp on his cock

·        Weights hanging from his scrotum

·        Anal beads in his rectum, which were kept there with duct tape

·        Duct tape on top of the nipple clamps.

 

Once he was fully awake, he was caned fifty times and then left hanging there, in the dungeon, all night. He was kept as such a prisoner for about 10 days, during which time he was constantly whipped, caned, paddled, breadboarded and willy-whipped. He was then blindfolded and taken to the outskirts of New Hamburg, Ontario, which was about 100 miles WNW of Sarnia.

 

He was dropped off blindfolded, with his hands and feet loosely tied. In this way, he was forced to escape his restraints, but the perp was long gone by the time he had done so. The perp had, though, honoured the debt, and Philip found $500 stuffed into his trousers pocket. He was quite disoriented but saw, once his eyes had adjusted, a small town in the distance. He stumbled his way there, where he entered the Imperial Market and Eatery, Mill Street, New Hamburg.


 

There he met Murray, one of our truck driver network members, in fact probably the best thereof.

 

"Hello, son, you look a little shook up. Are you OK?"

 

"I'm nothing! I'm gay and everybody hates me! All I'm good for is to be a pervert's toy."

 

"Now, now, what's all this about?"

 

"I've run away from home in Flint, Michigan. I got kidnapped in Sarnia, smuggled across the border and have been being violently sexually abused for the last ten days, I think it is. I don't know where I am, and I just feel like killing myself. The big world is just as bad as Flint."

 

"Young man, stop this. I am very pleased to have met you. How would you like to go somewhere where bullying just doesn't exist, and gay boys are the only boys there."?

 

"That would be nice, sir, but where is this place, heaven?"

 

"Well, you could say it's a gay heaven on earth. Do you want to go?"

 

"Yes please, sir!"

 

"OK, firstly, what's your name and birthday?"

 

"I'm Philip Sumpter; I was born on 1st December 1999 in Flint, Michigan."

 

"Well, Philip, let's get you to safety. I can't come with you, as I have work to do, driving my truck; I will, though, take you to the station, give you all the necessary directions, and buy you a ticket all the way. The place is not far away, it's at Orangeville, just 60 miles north-east of here. The public transport route to there is a little bit of a long way round; you'll have to travel via Mississauga and Brampton, but I'll make sure you have all the right directions. I'll also give you a letter, which you can show to any official who asks you where you're going; you will have no problems after you show it to them. Also please remember this password phrase "Mallard Murray Missing" for when you get to where you're going.

 

Murray took Philip to Kitchener railway station, bought him a bus ticket for Orangeville, and told him where to go and what to say. At about midday on Monday, 23 April, 2012, Philip arrived here and became our ninth scholar.

 

An amazing thing happened, just as I was walking Philip over to meet Lucas. Anthony was out for a stroll after his morning lesson with Lucas.

 

"Hello, Matthew, who's this?"

 

"This is Philip, Anthony, and he's feeling very discarded."

 


 

"Well, we can't have that, Matthew. Lucas has been teaching me, in Interpersonal Relationships, about proper loving couples, particularly those loves that may arise between two boys. How about he come and room with me; we can then support each other in mutually dealing with our trials and tribulations. As you see, Lucas has been teaching me some big words and proper grammar. He's a great teacher!"

 

"Would that be true with you, Philip?"

 

"Of course, for the first time in my life, somebody wants me and wants to care for me. Murray said I was coming to a gay boy's heaven. Now I know that's true."

 

Philip has fitted in well and is sharing, in every way you can imagine, with his 'big brother' Anthony. The gentle love, which Anthony shows towards Philip, is a joy to observe. They walk hand-in-hand everywhere.

 

Investigations were made in Sarnia and the abuser was found. The film collection was recovered; it has been part of our ongoing mission to seek to find all those abused boys. Sadly, we have not yet been successful.

 


 

10. Ulysses Papadakis, born on 23rd May 2000 in Weston, Toronto, Ontario;
12 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 25 May 2012

 

I met Ulysses on one of the weekends that I visited Toronto. Within a few months of buying this farm, I realised, for a whole variety of reasons, that if I was to carry out my plans, I would need a city base, as well as the farm. Many of the runaways, in this region, ended up in Toronto, and a big city was where punters often went looking for rentboys. I wanted an outer city base so that the boys who I met in Toronto and rescued, would not feel readily drawn back to the places where they had been rescued from. I spent many weekends searching Toronto and finally, on 25th May 2013, I had just made an offer for the property in Brampton, which is now my town base, and I wanted to take a relaxing recovery stroll. I saw that the Terra Cotta Conservation Area was just 20 minutes' drive west and I knew there were many walking trails there.

 

I parked and headed out on the trails that did a loop. It was only 4 miles long, good for a 1½ hour stroll. It was a quiet area; the weather was very pleasant and it was just after 3.00 p.m. I had been walking for about half an hour when, much to my surprise, I saw a young boy, about fifty yards away, sitting on a rock beside the trail. He looked as though he was about 12-years-of-age. There was no-one else around; as I got closer, I could see that his face was very red and he was softly crying. I immediately went into my caring mode.

 

The next half hour panned out like this -

 

"What's wrong, lad?" "Leave me alone, nobody cares." was the boy's reply. "I care, and don't you tell me otherwise!" "How can you care; you don't even know me!" "I care because I care for every child in this world. You are a member of the next generation; you need to be loved and looked after, so you can grow up to be a happy, contented adult. Please do tell me what's wrong."

 

"I turned 12 on Thursday and yesterday evening was the final of the 2011-12 regional gymnastics competition. I really looked forward to it, and I was doing well, but then I made a bad goof on the floor exercise, normally my best routine. My team lost out on the team gold medal by only half a point, just the number of points I was short for the team; if I had done my routine correctly, I would have scored 8.5 or 9.0, instead, I only got 7.5. My parents were not there because they hadn't been able to find a babysitter for my young brother. I just couldn't face telling my parents what I'd done. My father has always told me that I'm stupid and clumsy. He never could understand why I so much wanted to do gymnastics, but mum convinced him to let me have a go; I've been doing well all year, but then I went down with a little sniffle, earlier this week, and last night I was not on my top form, but I didn't want to let the team down and pull out. My reserve teammate was good but I knew his routines would end up 3 or 4 points total less than mine. I just felt so ashamed for letting the team down and I just couldn't face my father, so I changed back into my normal clothes and just ran. I got so tired I even dumped my gym bag a few miles back; I don't know whether I could even find it again." The boy then just began blubbering, very loudly.

 

"What's your name, son?" "Ulysses, sir."

 

"Why did you call me sir?"

 

"My dad is very strict and he has taught me to always address adults, who are not family, as Sir or Ma'am."

 

"Well, Ulysses, I'm not like that, and I would like it if you called me Mat, short for Matthew; that's what my friends call me." "Hey, you're not one of those pedo guys are you, I'll run and tell." "No, Ulysses, I'm not, I am gay but I have fun with men, not with boys like you. You are very attractive, and I am sure you will make a handsome husband one day. All I want to do is make sure you grow up to be such a handsome young man."

 

"How can you do that? I've run away from home and I'm not going back. I'll probably just commit suicide. Nobody wants a loser like me. My parents have always preferred my younger brother. They dote on him. They won't miss me. I bet they won't even put in a missing person's report."

 

"Ulysses, please stop talking like that. You have a lot to live for and I want to help you to do that. I run a very special, exclusive, boys' school, up in Orangeville, less than 20 miles from here. If you're right and your parents won't look for you there is a home available there for you until you are an adult. There are nine boys there already, they are just about to finish their first year at the school. If your parents do look for you, I will make sure that you are safely returned to them, but I will also make sure that you will be safe with them. I'm hearing that they have been shaming you a lot; that is not a good way to raise a child."

 

"Well, Mat, it seems I have nothing to lose, and much to gain. I'll go with you and check your place out."

 

I took Ulysses hand and led him back to the car. Gordon, my first boy, had not allowed a school mate to share his apartment, all year, and the second block of apartments was still a week or two from being completely finished. Gordon had, though, spoken to me, a few days earlier, about now being ready to have someone else with him in the apartment; he had, intriguingly, asked if it could be a boy one or two years younger than him, so that he could try to be a big brother to somebody and do it in a way that didn't copy his own big brother's ways. He felt that he had a place in his heart for somebody to be his best friend.

 

I picked up my mobile phone and called Gordon. Gordon could see on the display phone that it was me calling. "Hello Mat, what's up?" "Gordon, I have with me a new runaway, his name is Ulysses and I think he needs looking after, by a good friend, a big brother. He's just 12, 2 days ago, and a good gymnast. May I bring him to your apartment in about 20 minutes." "Of course, Mat, I look forward to it."

 

I then called Joseph, the School Administrator, and asked him to rapidly prepare the standard embroidered linen, with the name Ulysses and take it to Apartment #2; Gordon will be expecting it. Just as Joseph was knocking on Gordon's door, I arrived with Ulysses. I took him up the one flight of stairs and went in, as Joseph was coming out.


 

"Gordon, this is Ulysses, as we discussed, just now, he is to be your little brother and housemate. Please do all you can to make him welcome, but be gentle; I think Ulysses is feeling a little trepidation just now, as he is not sure what he is getting himself into."

 

"Don't worry Mat, you know I have achieved top marks in Interpersonal Relationships, Gender Studies and Health Science, this year. I am quite sure that Ulysses and I will get on like a house on fire."

 

I left the two boys alone and they clicked very quickly. Ulysses' parents never did report their missing boy: Gordon and Ulysses soon became a very committed gay couple.

 


 

11. Nigel Darwin, born on 19th October 2000 in Goderich, Ontario;
11 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 16 June 2012

 

Nigel is the youngest of the first 16 scholars of the school., with possibly one of the saddest back-stories. In April 2012, his baby sister was born and, so far as I have been able to ascertain, his parents immediately doted on her, as would be quite natural; unfortunately, they also, at the same time, began to totally ignore Nigel. Apparently, he would ask a question, or request food, and they would say or do nothing. It seemed, from his point of view, that he was being completely ignored. By the time school finished, on Thursday, June 28th 2012, he just felt that he had had enough. Early the next morning, before sunrise, he just left with a few clothes and a packed lunch, in a small backpack. He had a little bit of money saved, just a few dollars, and he decided to head to Mississauga. He didn't know how he would live, but he didn't really care; he was just sick and tired of the neglect.

 

A little after midday, Nigel felt tired; he had been walking for over seven hours. He found himself beside a copse adjacent to a business named Nostalgic Wood, near Huron East. He decided to find a shady spot in the wood, relieve himself, eat his lunch and have a sleep. About four hours later, Nigel woke to find a man standing over him.

 

"Hello, son, what are you doing out here all on your own?"

 

"I've run away from home; my parents don't want me: all they're interested in, nowadays, is my new baby sister. I might as well not exist, as far as they're concerned."

 

"Well, the forest floor is not a nice place to sleep the night, maybe OK for an afternoon nap, but overnight, not so kool. How would you like to have some nice food and a nice bed for the night?"

 

"True, mister, I was becoming quite itchy. Have you got burgers and fries?"

 

"Of course, little one. What's your name?"

 

"Nigel, and I'm 11 in September"

 

Not seen by Nigel, the man licked his lips, and thought to himself, "A lovely little ten-year-old, I can have some fun with this runaway."

 

"OK Nigel, let's hop in my truck here, and we'll go to my house down the road near Carmunnock. After about a ten-minute-drive, Jock turned the car into a short gravel driveway and parked in a carport. There were no neighbours around.

 

Jock put his arm around Nigel, and gently guided him into the house. He ushered his new‑found toy to the couch in the lounge room and invited him to take a seat, take his shoes off and relax.

 


 

"I'll go fix the burgers and fries. You just relax, lie along the couch if you want."

 

Now, Jock lived alone and didn't really keep the place very tidy. Jock was also a boy lover, particularly desirous of 10-12-year-olds. He had lots of magazines and photographs scattered all over the place, showing naked boys of that age engaged in sexual activities with men and other boys. Nigel, the naturally curious lad that he was, saw some of the photographs on the coffee table, which was beside the couch.

 

Just as Nigel was picking up a pile of a few of the pictures, Jock came in with the dinners and Coke, fresh from the fridge.

 

"Do you like those pictures, Nigel?"

 

"I've never seen pictures like this before, but I do like looking at the boy's willies. There was a boy named Stephan, at school, whom I mucked around with a few times. We sucked each other's willies until we had a dry orgasm, and then we would lie down in his treehouse and go to sleep, naked, in each other's arms."

 

"Well, Nigel, I like that you have a leaning towards playing with boy's cocks. Remember, use the word cock or dick, willy is a childish word, and now you're playing sexually you should use the more grown-up words. I would like to see you naked, Nigel, please. Do a nice striptease for me, remember to wriggle your body around and wiggle your cock and bum at me before you finally take off your underpants."

 

Nigel then proceeded to do the striptease; all of the time being filmed and photographed by Jock.

 

Jock then took all his clothes off and asked Nigel to sit in his lap. Jock kissed and French-kissed Nigel for a long time and then turned him around on his lap so that their dongs were touching each other. The following is how Nigel described the ensuing sexual encounter to me.

 

"He then picked me up and carried me to his bedroom, where he laid me down on this King Size bed, which was dressed with red sheets and pillowcases. He then proceeded to suck me and I quite quickly had my dry orgasm. He then rimmed me and had me suck his tool.

 

"He then told me to kneel on all fours, and he knelt behind me. He inserted one, then two, then three fingers, by which time I was quite open. He then doggy-fucked me. I felt his hard cock right up inside me, even past the bottom of my intestines, where I could feel my third ring being straightened. He made me wank myself hard, while his cock was up my ass, until I had a second dry orgasm. He then fed me his cum, which was mixed with my ass juices, whilst it was dripping out of my gaping hole. He then caned, spanked and whipped me for being such a tempting, sexy 10-year-old. I asked him, between my sobs, 'Why, why did you spank me, I did what you wanted?

 

He answered, 'I just like to see little boys cry, I'm sorry. I'll give you $250 in the morning, for your pains. Meanwhile, let's just cuddle up and I'll comfort you'

 

I succumbed and we spooned together all night. His cock was lying in my cleft all night.


 

In the morning, he gave me a special pair of shoes, which had a hollow heel. He told me, put your money in that hollow, and always wear those shoes when you are around other people. I put the $250, from him, and the $100, which I already had, in the shoe and put them in my backpack. He asked me for permission to keep my undies and gave me five new pairs in exchange. He then took me to Wallenstein, a small town about 35 miles west of his house. He kissed me, as he dropped me off, wished me well, and thanked me again for being such a lovely, little boy.

 

He suggested that if I was intent on going to Mississauga, I should go to Guelph, which was just over 20 miles WSW of where he dropped me off. He recommended avoiding Kitchener, for reasons he did not explain.

 

In Guelph, I went into a public toilet, where I was caught by a gang of 15-16-year-old boys. I was gang-raped, rather overly violently. There were so many of them that they just held me down and steadily removed my clothing, until they got to my underpants. At that point, they left my underpants on me, but ripped a gap, at my hole; I was then fucked by all of them. By the en0d, I was a blubbering wreck and just lay there. As they left, the gang leader said, "Thank you, slut, I'm sure you can dress yourself!"

 

Now, it just happened, that Owyn, one of the Baptist boys who had been at the Belwood camp, just under a year earlier, saw the gang enter the toilet, moments after Nigel had. Being a local lad, he was aware of the rumours about this gang, so he held back for fear of what they might do to him. A few moments after he saw the gang leave, Owyn quickly entered the toilet and found Nigel lying there with cum, and even a bit of blood, dripping out of his anus.

 

"No, no more, please. Leave me alone."

 

"Don't worry, bro. I'm not like them. You're bloody lucky, they were only boys; there are men around who could have done much worse. I was at a camp a year ago where this guy, Matthew, told us all about the dangers of being a runaway. I think the first thing we need to do is get you to my treehouse, it's quite nearby. There may be one or two of my friends there too."

 

"True, bro. I'm not in a fit state to argue and you do seem nice."

 

When they arrived at the treehouse, Wes and Zeb were there.

 

"Hi guys, I think I've found a runaway; he's hurt bad, just like Matthew warned us about."

 

Wes grabbed the first aid kit, which the boys had, just in case of minor accidents. They gently soothed all of Nigel's wounds and, with his permission, even cleaned up his hole. They were good scouts and all had their First-Aid badges.

 

"What do you think we should do Wes?", were the words of Zeb.

 

"I think we should call Jason, at the camp; we promised to keep secret all of what happened a year ago, so he's the only person we know that we can trust. We don't have a number for Matthew."

 


 

"Hello, Jason, this is Wes, one of the Baptist boys, from last year."

 

"Hello, Wes, how may I help you?"

 

"Well, Jason, Owyn found a runaway boy. He got badly raped by that local gang of older boys, whom we told you about, after we heard Matthew's talk. We've patched him up and dressed him as best we can, with our first kit, but we think he needs Matthew's help. We don't have a number for him though; we have no way of getting to Orangeville and back, before our parents would worry."

 

"Wes, where are you?"

 

"Zeb, Owyn and I are in our treehouse, in Riverside Park, just near Walmart."

 

"Wait there, I'll be in the park in 20 to 25 minutes. Once I'm there, I'll call you back and you can direct me to where you are."

 

Jason called Brian and a police escort was rapidly arranged.

 

"Hello, Nigel, how are you?"

 

"I'm a bit shaken, sir, but these buddies here seem to have patched me up a bit. I think I've been a bit foolish; I ran away from home."

 

"There's no news of you, Nigel. When did you leave home?"

 

"A couple of days ago, early in the morning. I'm not surprised you haven't heard about me. My parents are all focussed on my new baby sister, they probably haven't even missed me."

 

"Well, Nigel, I know a special place for boys like you; I am sure my friend Matthew, who runs a special school for runaways, just over 30 miles from here, at Orangeville, will welcome you with open arms."

 

Nigel was brought straight here, by Jason, duly escorted by Brian, and settled in, to apartment #6, as our eleventh scholar. I also briefed Lucas to keep a very close eye on Nigel, as he was so young.


 

12. Andrew York, born on 30th September 1997 in Tillsonburg, Ontario;
14 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 7 July 2012

 

Andrew is one of our older boys, whom I first met at the Rest Stop at Morriston.

 

"Hello, Andrew; off on a summer holiday?"

 

"Who are you, how do you know my name?"

 

"Don't worry, Andrew, Stanley called me, and I know what's up. We both just thought that it might be easier if I give you a lift for the last third of your journey. You were coming to me, at Orangeville, I think."

 

"So, you're Matthew. Just in case, Stanley gave me this password. If I say the first two words, will you finish it off, please?"

 

"Swift, Stanley"

 

"Success"

 

Andrew just about jumped into my arms and burst into tears.

 

"Are you really going to look after me? I'm 16 in a few months, when I could start working but I feel that I still need adult help, please."

 

"Don't you worry any more, Andrew, in less than an hour, after we leave here, you'll be in your own apartment, and safe! I've brought us some lunch, some poutine and Montreal bagels, plus some Sprite (I hear that's your favourite)."

 

Andrew blinked at that comment but, by now, he wasn't surprised by anything Matthew might know. After all, Stanley had been a regular visitor to the home of Rod and Andrew.

 

"Stanley has told me a little about your recent history, Andrew, but I'd like to hear it from you, please."

 

In between mouthfuls, this is what Andrew told me over the next half hour.

 

"Firstly, just to confirm your knowledge, I am Andrew York, recently resident in Tillsonburg. I was born on 30th September 1996. I have known that I am gay ever since I was about 9‑years‑of‑age. I was constantly teased, at school, because I just wasn't interested in any of the things that other boys my age were.

 

In June 2009, my parents and I were watching the news and a report came up about the troubles surrounding the funding of the Toronto Pride Parade. What happened next, I will never forget. My father just went into this loud rant.


 

'Bloody perverts, they should all be castrated. I hope you never turn out like that, Andrew, I'd disown you. It's bad enough that I've got a 2nd cousin, Rodney, lives just down the road; he's one of those queers. You keep well clear of him, Andrew, understood!"

 

All I could reply was, 'Yes, dad'.

 

Little did my father know that Rod and I had been lovers for 4 months already, at that time. Rod lived not too far from me; every morning I would go past his house on the way to school. He always seemed to be out the front doing some gardening, or yard cleaning, or similar; little did I know, then, that he purposely made sure he was there, when I went past. Being a polite young boy, I would wave to him, and say hello, as I walked on by.

 

One day, I was waving at him, as usual, and I tripped. I fell quite heavily, and, even though I was 12 already, I started to cry. I was badly grazed and quite a headache was coming on. Rod was most attentive, patched me up, gave me a couple of Tylenol and, just in time, with less than a minute to go, dropped me off at school.

 

While I had been in Rod's house, I had seen a few gay magazines on his table, which had pictures of boys and men having sex. Though I was only about 12½ at the time, I decided to go and talk to Rod about my gay feelings; after all, despite what my father had said, he was my 2nd cousin once removed.

 

So, a couple of days later, on the way home from school, making sure no-one was around, I knocked on his door.

 

'Hello, Rod, I just came to thank you for helping me the other day; I also wondered whether we could have a chat. I saw those mags and I know I'm gay, but I can't say anything to dad, I'm not sure he likes gays.'

 

'Come on in Andrew, let's talk.'

 

And that is exactly what we did, after a few weeks of simple hugging and kissing and looking at those mags, Rod asked me if I would be willing to take my clothes off. I was a little hesitant, but also felt a shiver of excitement, a giddy frisson of a new thrilling adventure in my young life.

 

On that first day, he simply sucked my cock and nipples but soon after it was mutual sucking and, on my 13th birthday, I snuck out after my bedtime and he took my cherry. His cock was really big, about 10" long and about 2" in diameter; he even had to give me some poppers to cope with the pain – eventually I got used to his cock and didn't need those anymore. I didn't like relying on drugs to enable our fun.

 

When I was 13½, just about exactly a year after I had first entered Rod's house, my paternal grandparents, my parents and I were having a barbeque, at the back of my grandparents' house. My maternal grandparents had died quite a few years previously. I had just stepped inside to use the bathroom, when there was a massive explosion; my parents and paternal grandparents were all killed.


 

I was now, as far as officialdom was concerned, left on my own, with two houses as my inheritance.

 

I told the fireman that there was my father's 2nd cousin living nearby and that maybe he would take me in for a night or two, while things got sorted. The fireman said I had to go to the local office of Children and Youth Services, first.

 

At that office, I was fortunate enough to meet Stanley, who saw no reason why, at least for a few days, to start with, I shouldn't go and stay with Rod. This is what transpired late in the afternoon of the day of the explosion.

 

'Good afternoon, Mister York, my name is Stanley Undercroft, I'm from Children and Youth Services. I understand you're the 2nd cousin of David York; his house is just around the corner.'

 

Rod, obviously, saw me standing there, but said nothing to suggest we knew each other, as closely as we did.

 

'Yes, Stanley, but we're quite estranged, he doesn't approve of my lifestyle."

 

'I'm sorry to have to tell you, that he, his parents and his wife died this afternoon, in an explosion at his parent's house; the barbeque blew up, I understand. Fortunately, Andrew here, had just stepped inside to use the bathroom; he was uninjured. He tells me that you're the only relative he knows of, as both his parents were only children.'

 

'Yes, I s'pose that is true. I do know Andrew, he tripped outside my house about a year ago, and I tended his wounds and drove him to school, so he wouldn't be late. I s'pose a few days will be OK.'

 

Rod was keeping up a very good straight face, as was I. Inside, of course, we were both just jumping for joy.

 

A few days later, the day after the funeral, Rod called Stanley and this was how the conversation went.

 

'Hello, Stanley, this is Rodney York here. My young cousin, Andrew, has opened a part of me that I thought I had locked away. He is an adorable young boy, and very polite with it. I know I said, only a few days, but do you think I could foster him.'

 

'Well, you are his father's 2nd cousin. I think that can be arranged.'

 

With help from Stanley, within a few weeks, Rod was my foster father.

 

Now I was living with him, we took our sexual play to a new level. He bought lots of sex toys for me, such as - handcuffs, ropes, a blindfold, various dildos, dilators, a leash and collar, and butt plugs. He also bought me lots of sexy clothes, including frilly knickers, G-strings and thongs. Rod always had to order the sizes that were intended for small Asian boys or girls (for the knickers).


 

My first Christmas present from Rod, in 2010, was a nice fur coat. It's in my pannier now.

 

For my 14th birthday, he bought me this Super 73 SG1 Army Green E-bike with a sturdy Cargo Rack.

 

Our lives went on like that for nearly two years, until last night; his dick was right inside me, and he was pumping away, hard as, and he just collapsed on top of me, dead as. I checked his pulse, but he was gone. I lay there, in his cooling arms, for hours; I then called Stanley this morning."

 

"Well, Andrew, you certainly have had an interesting young life, and I am sure you will fit in very well at Orangeville. I mentioned earlier that you would have an apartment of your own; I just wondered, though, whether you would be willing to share with a 10-year-old; he's just a few months off his 11th birthday, just about the same amount as you are off your 16th. He's only been with us a couple of weeks; he got badly gang-raped, hours before he was rescued and he is still recovering, both physically and mentally. I just think an older boy, who can, slowly and gently, show him what true gay love is about, would really help him to adjust."

 

"I think that would be a grand idea, Matthew. I need comforting in my grief and I would love to comfort him. Two broken boys, helping each other out; superb idea!"

 

That meeting, at Morriston, was, of course, not by chance. Stanley had called me immediately after Andrew had left, telling me that he had advised Andrew to travel via a bit of a zig-zag route to Orangeville, including that rest stop, as it would avoid the larger cities of Brantford, Cambridge, Kitchener and Guelph, where his youthfulness would have probably attracted the unwelcome attention of police and/or other officials.

 

We finished our lunch, used the restroom, and jumped in the van with the e-bike in the back.

 

When we arrived back at Orangeville, I asked Lucas to bring Nigel across to my house.

 

"How are you settling in Nigel?"

 

"OK, Matthew, but I'm still very sore back there. It hurts when I use the toilet, but it's slowly getting better. Who's this boy?"

 

"Nigel, this is Andrew. He's gay, just like that man and those boys, but he knows what true gay love really is, not the abuse you endured. His 'daddy', his older gay lover, just died, in very tragic circumstances, and he's deeply in grief. I think that if you two shared your apartment, you could comfort each other. He won't do anything to you, Nigel; it'll just be like 'big brother' and 'little brother'."

 

"Well, it would be nice to have someone sharing. The apartment's great but it's a bit lonely at times. That's why I've been visiting Lucas so much; he's been helping and he's been telling me about his boyfriend, apparently a boy not much older than me. I'm beginning to understand that there's love and there's abuse and neglect; sadly, recently, I've only been experiencing the latter two. It would be nice to have a friend who is looking after me."


 

"Well, Andrew, what do you think. Will you be Nigel's friend?"

 

"Of course, Matthew. Who could say no to those gorgeous little dimples and that hint of a smile? I'm sure we'll work it all out together!"

 

Nigel and Andrew did work it out and, so far as I know, they are now lovers; neither has said anything, though: all I can say is that Lucas reports massive changes in both their demeanours, which he can only put down, due to the depth of those changes, to regular sexual intercourse between the two of them.


 

13. Ethan Liversage, born on 26th August 1999 in Rockford, Illinois;
13 on 13 September 2012

Arrived at Orangeville on 21 July 2012

 

Ethan knew he was gay from a very early age. He had even played some childish games with a couple of his young friends where they all ended up naked and touched each other up. They even put each other over their laps and spanked each other for being so naughty. A few weeks before his 10th birthday, he met a 14-year-old high school student at a cottage, and this is how that encounter went.

 

He had seen this very attractive high school boy entering the loo and he followed him. He went up to the urinal and pulled his dick out to pee. He didn't try to conceal his glances across at the boy beside him.

 

"What the heck! What are you looking at, you little imp?"

 

"I'm sorry. I just like looking at cocks. I can't stop myself."

 

The 14-year-old grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him into the cubicle.

 

"OK, you brat, you want to see cock, suck this."

 

Once the 14-year-old was satisfied that his cock was wet enough, he lifted Ethan up, pulled Ethan's pants down and fucked him hard, with no preparation.

 

"I'm sorry, sir, please be a bit more gentle."

 

"Come back next week and I might even suck your cocklet for you."

 

Ethan went back a few times but, though he enjoyed the sex each time, he felt bad about it, knowing he was doing something naughty, which he daren't tell his parents about.

 

The week after his 10th birthday, he broke a couple of pieces of his mother's precious heirloom Wedgwood Mayfield china; then, the next day, he thought he broke the lawnmower. Three bad things in less than a month: he felt very ashamed; early in the morning of Sunday 6th September, when his parents always had a long lie-in, he just ran. All that he had was the clothes he was wearing, plus a small backpack with his life savings, from his piggy bank, which totalled just over twenty dollars, plus some toiletries, including a roll of toilet paper, a few changes of underwear, and a couple of t‑shirts.

 

He headed towards Milwaukee, not for any particular reason, but just it was a big city and he'd been to Chicago, so Milwaukee was just a different big place.

 

He first headed north along the Rock River. Towards the end of the day, he found himself on the southern edge of Janesville, just south of the Southern Wisconsin Regional Airport, in the Happy Hollow Park.


 

He went into the restroom. There was a man at one of the urinals and he stepped up straight beside him. He pulled his willy out and let go. The man beside him didn't seem to be peeing any more; he was just standing there. He looked up at the man and smiled. The man patted him on the head, winked and left.

 

After Ethan had finished, he left and was heading back towards the river when he saw the man a few feet away, beckoning to him with his finger. Ethan was bold and naïve; he went across to the man.

 

"How would you like to earn $50, and a bed for the night; I can see you're a runaway."

 

"OK, what do I have to do."

 

"Suck me, and let me fuck you; afterwards, maybe a few light spanks on your cute little bottie. In return, I'll feed you, suck you and give you a bed for the night, plus the money."

 

"OK, I just hope you'll be gentle, please. I've only been fucked once before, and he was only a 14-year-old boy; you're a man."

 

"What's your name, lad?"

 

"Ethan, I'm 10."

 

"Yummy, yummy, call me Stan, Stan the man. I'll be gentle; my cock's quite small; that's why nice little boy-cunts, like yours, are just right for me. Let's get to my place, it's just at the north side of Janesville, in Harmony; we can then both be comfortable, while I molest you."

 

When they got to Stan's place, Ethan was ushered inside and directed to the couch.

 

Stan sat down beside Ethan and immediately picked Ethan up and put him on his lap.

 

Stan then gently undressed Ethan.

 

"Stand up, Ethan, give me a twirl."

 

Ethan did a very sexy shimmy and wiggle.

 

"You're beautiful, Ethan. Come here and undress me: go slowly, touch and feel my body; the body of your first 'daddy'."

 

Once Stan was naked, he directed Ethan's head to his cock.

 

"Open up, take my cock. Lick it, up and down the side, now suck it all the way down. Good boy. Now my balls. You good little slut.

 

Now kneel on all fours, on the couch, and pull your butt cheeks apart.

 


 

Ooh, tasty boy hole, yummy."

 

"What are you doing? Are you licking my hole?"

 

"Yes, Ethan, and it's lovely. "I'm opening you up, so I can fuck you before dinner."

 

"Here comes my cock."

 

"Ow, that hurts."

 

"It will at first, baby, just relax and soon you'll enjoy the pleasure after the pain."

 

Stan pushed on; after about ten minutes he was all the way in with his manly 5", just the right size cock for a little boy to take.

 

"You're lovely and tight, you little boy-bitch. I'm going to breed you now."

 

By now, Ethan was liking this newish sensation.

 

"Harder daddy, harder, I'm about to cum."

 

Just as Ethan had his dry orgasm, Stan flooded his chute with five good globs of spunk.

 

Stan fed Ethan the cum mixed with his own ass juices, and Ethan smiled.

 

"One last thing, only a few, just the number of your age, but I must make your bum a bit red. Over my lap."

 

Stan proceeded to give Ethan ten good slaps of his hand. At the end, Ethan said, between sobs,

 

"I know you warned me, but why, I did all you wanted?"

 

"I just like to see little boy's bums get red and their eyes crying."

 

"Come here, that's all over now. Let me lick up those tears and cuddle you until you calm down."

 

"What do you want for dinner?"

 

"KFC please, Stan, if that's OK?"

 

"You've only got a small pack, Ethan. What have you got in there?"

 

"3 underpants, 2 t-shirts, a toilet roll, my toothbrush and some toothpaste, plus a face washer; I don't even have a towel."

 


 

"Well, little one, you won't get far with that little lot. We'll drop by Walmart and get you properly set up to be a runaway."

 

Stan bought Ethan the biggest backpack he could cope with. He filled it with a Rokka & Rolla Boys' Reversible Hooded Lightweight Water-Resistant Padded Puffer Jacket, a couple of pairs of trousers, a couple of pairs of shorts, half a dozen t-shirts, a ten pack of underpants, a similar pack of Fruit of the Loom socks, a towel, and a Neon Green/Black Lightweight Kids Sleeping Bag and Carrying Bag with Compression Strap by Wakeman Outdoors.

 

"I think that will set you up for now."

 

"Thank you, Stan, do you want to fuck me again? I don't mind, you've been very nice to me."

 

"No, Ethan, once is enough, all I ask is that you leave me the underpants, which you were wearing when you came in."

 

"OK, Stan; I hope they help you remember me."

 

Ethan slept with Stan that night and, early the next morning, Stan drove him to Schilberg Park, near the centre of Milton.

 

"Here's the $50, plus an extra $20 for breakfast. I recommend Natalie's Parkview Café, it's a mile down the High Street there, just opposite South Goodrich Park.

 

"Hotcakes, bacon, egg, sausage and tomato and hot chocolate please."

 

"Are you with the other boy? No, my grandpa's coming in on the bus from Janesville. Mum and Dad said I could have a treat while I waited for him."

 

Ethan was already beginning to think on his feet.

 

Ethan's story continues as he meets up with Daniel, the other boy in the café; the two together, then, quite soon thereafter, meet up with Henrik.


 

14. Daniel Baker, born on 17th November 1998 in Madison, Wisconsin;
13 on 13 September 2012

Arrived at Orangeville on 21 July 2012

 

Daniel's father died when he was seven. In early September 2009, his mother welcomed a new de-facto partner into her life. She had found raising a primary school child, on her own, very difficult. Her new partner, like a new pride lion killing off all the young cubs who were not his progeny, threw Daniel out; the new partner had a son of his own, about the same age as Daniel, and wasn't interested in becoming a step-dad. Daniel left with just the clothes on his back, his birth certificate in his pocket, and $50, which his mother shoved into his hand as he departed; other than that small monetary gesture, Daniel's mother said and did nothing to stop the eviction of her only son.

 

Daniel didn't really know what to do with himself, so he just headed out to a part of the nearby countryside, which he enjoyed. He skirted around Lakes Waubesa and Kegonsa; after about four hours he found himself near the Hook Lake Bog State Natural Area, where he found some shade and just fell asleep. He didn't wake until the next morning; he was just feeling so rotten but he wanted to live. He didn't know how we would survive but survival is what he wanted. He thought to himself, 'I'll head to the big smoke, Chicago; I'm sure I'll make good money selling myself down there. Gay guys love young boys like me.' He drank some water from a stream near the lake and headed, roughly, south-west.

 

He crossed the Yahara River, via the road across the dam that formed the 450 Reservoir. After about seven hours he found himself on a country road north of Fulton. Just a few yards back from the road there was a barn; he crept inside and fell asleep until first light, the next morning. By now he had been away from home for two days and nights; he was, therefore, feeling quite hungry. Near the barn there was a farmhouse; not really caring what might happen, he snuck into the kitchen and took some bread and cheese. He wanted to pay but his mum had given him just a single $50 note, so he left an IOU for $5, with the words, "Sorry, I will pay you one day."

 

A little while later he saw signs for Fulton. He'd been there with his mum, in happier days, but he knew there was a crossing of the Rock River at Indianford and there was a nice café at Milton, which was only a little under 15 miles away, so he headed there.

 

At the café, he ordered spaghetti on toast, hash browns and a coke. He noticed Ethan as he walked in and had the sense to recognise a fellow runaway.

 

Daniel's story continues as he meets up with Ethan; the two together, then, quite soon thereafter, meet up with Henrik.


 

15. Henrik Pedersen, born on 15th October 1997 in Lima Center, Wisconsin;
14 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 21 Jul 2012

 

Ethan and Daniel both ate their breakfasts, at Natalie's Parkview Café, Milton, around 9.00 a.m. on the morning of Monday, September 7th, 2009 (Labor Day).

 

Ethan finished his ample breakfast, went to the restroom and made to head towards the Piggly Wiggly. As soon as he was out of sight of the café, though, he turned down East High Street, and headed in the direction of Milwaukee.

 

"Wait up there, buddy."

 

Ethan turned to see a boy of roughly his own age; probably a few months older, he thought to himself.

 

"What do you want?"

 

"Look, I can recognise another runaway a mile off. How about we tag along for mutual protection?"

 

"OK, what's your name?"

 

"Daniel, from Madison, and you?"

 

"I'm Ethan, from Rockford."

 

"Pleased to meet you, Ethan."

 

"Likewise, I got picked up by a 'daddy' last night; it was nice but he did spank me, and that hurt. He even bought me this backpack, which is much bigger than the small one that I headed out with. He also bought me some nice extra clothes."

 

"Ethan, I understand there's a nice park near here, I think there was a sign in the café about some Labor Day stuff going on there today. I'm really bushed, that breakfast was my first really proper meal for two days. Maybe we could find somewhere to just sit and chat, share our woes, so to say."

 

"Yes, Daniel, it's Stoors Lake Park, just over there about a mile away. My mum and dad took me there once on a Sunday afternoon drive."

 

The boys made their way there and entered via The Boulevarde Entrance. The boys found a small secluded area, under the shady shelter of some Maple trees, near Ruffey Lake, away from the building crowds, in order to become more acquainted with each other.

 

"Ethan, I didn't just follow you because I could see you were a runaway like me. I also followed you because you're very cute. May I kiss you."


 

"Of course, Daniel."

 

Ethan proceeded to show that he was not inexperienced in kissing a man or boy.

 

"Where did you learn that, Ethan, that was great?"

 

Ethan proceeded to share his recent history, by the end of which Daniel was feeling a little gobsmacked.

 

"So, you want to do it, I sure do?"

 

"Let's move into the thicker part of the wood, so we won't be seen."

 

The boys were soon in a 69.

 

"May I fuck you?"

 

"Go ahead, lover." This was Ethan's response.

 

Ethan lay back; Daniel knelt at his arse and slowly inserted his hardness into Ethan. He leant forward, kissed Ethan, and pumped away while also yanking Ethan's cocklet. They both came to orgasm quite quickly; Ethan's, a dry one, while Daniel filled Ethan's pussy with four good globs of youthful spunk.

 

"Thank you, Daniel, I enjoyed that."

 

"Thank you, Ethan, you've got a lovely tight boy-pussy."

 

The two boys then got dressed again and fell asleep in each other's arms.

 

Around lunchtime, they awoke, feeling peckish. They wandered over to where the food trucks were; they ordered a hot dog, fries, small salad and a Sprite each. They then wandered back to their original shady spot.

 

"Where were you heading, Ethan?"

 

"I was heading towards Milwaukee, you?"

 

"Well, I thought Chicago, but Milwaukee's nearer. I'll go along with your choice. After all, you're younger than me, I have to look after you."

 

"I think we should stay here till tomorrow morning and then move on. We can buy some dinner at the food trucks before they leave."

 

Ethan replied, "That's fine by me."

 


 

Through the afternoon they chatted and napped, just like two long-standing primary school friends. Hamburgers, fries, and Sprite were bought for dinner. They moved further into the wood, to the spot where they'd made love, opened up Ethan's sleeping bag, and, though it was a tight fit, fell asleep in each other's arms, in the sleeping bag.

 

Around 8.00 the next morning they travelled on towards Milwaukee, via a countryside walk, which took them about 2½ hours; it was just over 8 miles. At Lima Center, they looked around for a café: while searching, they met a boy of a similar age; they asked him about a café.

 

"There's no such place here, guys, but you can come back to my place, just my father and I, mum split years ago, he's always telling me to feel free to bring home friends and boys. My name is Henrik Pedersen."

 

"OK, if you're sure it's not too much trouble."

 

"It won't be too much trouble, trust me."

 

Ethan and Daniel were a little cautious but the boy seemed nice enough, and they were both feeling quite hungry.

 

"Hi, Dad, look who I found down the street. The elder one's Daniel and the younger's Ethan."

 

"Welcome, boys, you look famished."

 

"Henrik always takes a walk before breakfast, so that's how he met you. Let's dig into some hotcakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, and hash browns, all washed down with some OJ. Does that sound good?"

 

"Thank you, sir. How much do we owe you?"

 

"Don't worry about that, I'm sure we'll work it out."

 

"Thank you."

 

After breakfast, Henrik asked, "Do you want to see my room?"

 

"If you want."

 

"Leave your stuff here, it'll be safe. Unseen by Ethan and Daniel, Martin, 35-year-old father of 11-year-old Henrik, followed close behind. As they entered Henrik's bedroom, Martin stepped in behind them and clicked the door lock. He then stepped right up behind them and pushed them down, on their backs, onto the King Size bed."

 

"Hey, there's no need to be rough, we're both gay, you're up for some play are you."

 

"Yes, we are, we've been looking for some more boys; Henrik is bushed out, at the end of every day, with servicing half a dozen clients most days. Let's just see how good your pussies are."

 


 

Both Ethan and Daniel were then stripped and lain beside each other. They were told to suck the dicks hanging by their mouths. Both boys then proceeded to suck both son and father, Ethan started with Henrik, while Daniel started on Martin; after a while the son and father swapped. Martin and Henrik kissed each other while kneeling on either side of the sucking couple. Ethan and Daniel were each then fucked, doggy style, by both Henrik and Martin.

 

At the end, Henrik and Martin looked at each other and gave a thumbs up, for both boys.

 

Martin now spoke, "Sorry we were a bit rough on you, but you're both perfect. I know you're both runaways, probably heading for Milwaukee, or Chicago. Those big cities can be dangerous, you know, you might not survive to be adults. How about staying here, servicing a couple of clients a day, earning good money, and having me to protect you."

 

"Sounds a good plan, what do you think, Ethan?"

 

"Well, it certainly seems safer and more secure than the streets of a big city."

 

"OK, Martin, we'll do it."

 

"Thank you, boys. You'll each have your own room, but sleep where you will, together or apart."

 

"Together, please."

 

"That's kool, just remember you will need to use your own room, for when a client just wants, or can only afford, one of you. You'll earn $100 an hour, and may keep any tips personally. Bank accounts will be opened, for you, using fictional names, and I will deposit your earnings regularly myself. I'll always show you the passbooks after I go to the bank. Henrik here already has over $200,000 to his name; he's been on the game since his 11th birthday, last October."

 

Martin, Henrik, Daniel, and Ethan thus became the residents of a happy gay house, which was also a boy brothel. Ethan even met with Stan again, much to each other's pleasant surprise; Stan became a regular client. This joyful setup lasted for nearly three years, until Independence Day 2012. Martin was just taking the money from another client, and showing him to Ethan's room, who had always been the most popular since his arrival, when he grabbed his chest and collapsed. The client, a regular, sought to render CPR, but the attack was too severe.

 

Knowing Henrik to be Martin's son, he went and knocked on that door. Henrik was not too happy, as he was right in the middle of a good session with one of his favourite clients.

 

"Yes, what do you want, see my father if you want anything sorted out."

 

"I'm sorry, Henrik, but your father just died of a heart attack. He collapsed right in front of me; I tried CPR, but it was no good."

 

Daniel, who had no client at that time, now appeared out of the bathroom, where he'd been cleaning himself, after his client had left half-an-hour earlier.

 

What Henrik did not know was that his favourite client was one of Matthew's agents, Bernard.

 

"Henrik, go and get Ethan and we'll have a chat"

 


 

"Luke, I'll sort this. I think it best you be on your way."

 

"Of course, Bernard, I hope the boys don't get in trouble."

 

"Henrik, Daniel, Ethan, you can't stay here on your own; you're too young. What none of you knows, though, is that Martin was expecting this and he gave me a collection of documents about a year ago, just to cope with this situation. One of the documents hands the guardianship of all of you over to me, in the case of Martin's death, and gives me all the details about his funeral plan, your bankbooks and everything else. Unbeknownst to you, Ethan, after you had been here about two years, he made contact with your parents. He obtained your birth certificate, and, after assuring your parents that you were quite safe and well, but didn't want to go home, he received your guardianship. He also spoke to your mother, Daniel, and received your guardianship. Of course, none of your parents knew what you were really doing.

 

Now, we better call the ambulance and make funeral arrangements. I will keep the house in trust for you, Henrik, and rent it out, so you can keep earning money. Once we've tidied this place up and duly removed the various cameras and other devices, I'll be sending you to a special school in Canada, run by a good friend of mine. I'll only be able to take you to the Milwaukee Station, but I'll arrange tickets for you all the way to Orangeville. You'll go via Chicago, Detroit, and Toronto. I'll give you clear instructions, and letters that you can show along the way, which make it clear that I, your guardian, have sent you to a special summer camp at Orangeville. All the necessary papers will be there and you'll arrive in Orangeville on Thursday next week.

 

Once you arrive at the Orangeville Boys Academy, you'll have to give this password, ' Bittern Bernard Breakout'. The headmaster, Matthew, will welcome you most heartily; you'll then be set until your adults.

 

Thus, Henrik, Daniel and Ethan became our thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth scholars. Once I read Bernard's letters, I agreed, in contravention of my normal standards, that the three boys could share Apartment #7. Daniel and Ethan shared a King Size double bed, while Henrik had his own room but, I understand, he was also regularly invited to 'play' with the two boys. Henrik is now, though, in Apartment #8. I will leave that detail to the next story, which is about the last of our first 16 scholars.


 

16. Joshua Lloyd, born on 5th May 2000 in Kincardine, Ontario;
12 on 13 September 2012
Arrived at Orangeville on 11 Aug 2012

 

Joshua's story is a truly sad one. It seems that until he was 10, he was a Grade A student. When he was about 10½, puberty began to set in, and he started growing " hairs down there", to use his words. He didn't like them at first, so he burnt some of them off; eventually, there were so many that he gave up and started shaving them using dad's razor and shaving cream. After a year or so he started getting hard more and more often. He was finding that he had to wank three or four times a day. In his owns words he became "so distracted, by down there, that his grades fell". When he brought his report home, at the end of the 2011-12 academic year, his parents were very disappointed, and, apparently, told him so, using some quite nasty words. He couldn't bring himself to share what those words were. He also couldn't bring himself to explain, to his parents, what he thought was the reason for failing at school.

 

After he had done his paper round, early in the morning of Saturday, June 30th, 2012, which was the next day after school finished for the 2011-12 academic year, he just kept riding. He had packed a few clothes, and a wash kit, into his paper bag. He lived off the land for over a month, but was becoming thinner and wearier by the day.

 

On the night of Friday, August 10th, he found a seemingly abandoned house, where he slept in a nice soft bed. A real-life Goldilocks story, eh; he is a beautiful blonde. On the morning of Saturday, August 11th, he was woken by a 25-year-old shift worker.

 

"Who the fuck are you".

 

Before he could answer the guy yanked Joshua out of the bed and rapidly ripped all his clothes off him.

 

He then tied Joshua, face down, to the bed and gave him a thrashing with his belt and a horsewhip.

 

After that, he said, "I'll teach you to squat."

 

He pushed a pillow under Joshua's middle, and then aggressively stretched Joshua's hole.

 

The guy then fucked Joshua's boy-cunt very hard.

 

"Take my dick, you little brat!"

 

"I'm gonna fill you with a real man's spunk!"

 

After about 30 minutes of fierce pounding, he came in Joshua's boy-pussy. He then wrapped the boy in an old blanket, put him in his car and took him to the back road between Green Park and Damascus, just by the gate to Damascus Lake.

 


 

This being a Saturday, I was out and about on one of my drives; I was just passing the lake, when I saw this bundle move. I stopped and went across, not knowing what I might find. Imagine my shock and horror when I found a small boy, who looked as though he was 9 or 10-years-of-age. He was naked, bleeding from his back passage, and seemed to have passed out; there was clear evidence, though, of rape and that he had been crying profusely. I rushed to the car, grabbed one of my silver blankets, giant bandages and the box of sanitary pads. I wrapped him up so best as I could; he was still only semi-conscious and I rushed him to Orangeville Hospital, where, as you've already read, I had contacts

 

Fortunately, he recovered quite quickly and I was able to bring him here at about ten-o-clock at night. He stayed in my guest room for a few days, whilst he fully recovered. On the third day that he was here, I suggested we might go and have breakfast in the central dining room. Virtually, as soon as we sat down, Henrik stepped across and said,

 

"Good morning, Matthew. Who is our new friend?"

 

"My name's Joshua, and you are?"

 

"Henrik, Henrik Pedersen. Matthew, has Joshua been assigned an apartment yet?"

 

"No, Henrik, he's been with me in the guest room for a few days. He was badly raped, the morning I found him. Why do you ask?"

 

"Well, Matthew, being with Daniel and Ethan is great but I'm like the third wheel and I'm not so comfortable. I just wondered whether this gorgeous young boy here might need an elder brother, someone who might look after him?"

 

"Now Henrik, do you really mean look after? Remember, I know your history."

 

"Matthew, who do you think I am. It was my father who pimped us all out. I enjoyed it and I've played a bit with Ethan and Daniel, but, to tell the truth, I'm getting a bit bored of it for now. I want to focus back on school. I've already met with Lucas; he tells me I'm a couple of years behind where I should be with Math and English. On the other hand, he also tells me I have a very empathetic personality. I would just simply look after Joshua and help him recover from the horror he has experienced."

 

"What do you think, Joshua?"

 

"Maybe if I just hung out with Henrik, today. May I give you an answer at the end of the day?"

 

"That sounds a great idea. Are you happy with that, Henrik?"

 

"That's fine by me."

 

"OK, I'll leave you two together. Have a great day."

 

Joshua and Henrik did it hit off well; they moved together into apartment #8 that night. Ethan with Daniel and Joshua with Henrik regularly have dinner in each other's apartments.

After dinner on Sunday, 18th September, the seven Holmes Trust directors sat down. Virtually before they were all settled, Patrick, youngest though he was, spoke for them all,

 

"Matthew, set the trust up! I don't know how some of those boys survived! You've worked miracles here!"

 

Quentin, and all the other boys rescued from Kingston, were kept together, at Grand Valley, until all of them had sufficiently recovered from their addictions, had all quit smoking, and were clearly ready to join the school community at Orangeville Boys Academy. Many had fallen well behind their chronological age in terms of their educational achievement and the benefits of the academy's 1 to 1 approach were very well demonstrated through the steady development of these boys.

 

To be continued.

 

If this chapter has raised any issues for you, please read Kids Health: Running Away (URL:  https://kidshealth.org/en/kids/running-away.html) and follow the links from there.

 

Please also look at these 2 articles: How to Help Kids Deal With Embarrassment
(URL: https://childmind.org/article/help-kids-deal-embarrassment/) AND
"Good" Children - at What Price?: The Secret Cost of Shame

(URL: https://www.naturalchild.org/articles/robin_grille/good_children.html).

 


 

Other stories on Nifty, which have been written by this author

 

Lance and Philip - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/relationships/lance-and-philip/
(I am the Philip and this is an if only story.)

 

Mr Hughes and the Brightons -
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/mr-hughes-and-the-brightons
(I am Mr Hughes and this is another if only story.)

 

Jim and Pete - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/jim-and-pete/
(All I can say is - Pete is me (in substance, but not all true, though much is), and Jim is loosely based on a real person BUT it didn't work out anything like the story.)

 

After Bosworth Field - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/after-bosworth-field/
(An historical drama flowing out of the Battle of Bosworth Field – it will probably never be finished, but it will be an ongoing task and I have encouraged other authors, though I have never yet received any offers, to write additional back stories, extensions of the model etcetera)