Date: Wed, 12 Jan 2005 20:07:07 +0000 (GMT)
From: Mike James <offroaderlr@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: How it all started at thirteen Part 1

This is a true account of my youth. Any comment to Offroaderlr@yahoo.com
please.

I have not led the life I should have and am only now coming to terms
with that fact. What happened when I was 13 and in the years that
followed had a major effect on my life and made me deny what and who I
was. Having finally accepted what I am I can now look back and deal with
the memories.
What I am going to tell you about happened in England, in Portsmouth
actually. Some of you who know the area may even recognise the places I
mention and the school I went to. I have changed the names of those
involved as they may still be alive and might read this, or somebody who
knows them might read it. I do not want any Policeman trying to make his
name by prosecuting somebody for things that happened quite a few years
ago either.
I was 13 at the time and I went to school in Portsmouth, even though I
lived 14 miles in a town called Fareham. I had a father who did not like
me and was violent. He was a sportsman and loved sport. My brother was
good at sport and I was not. I would try everything I could to make my
father proud of me, to make him love me, or even notice me as something
more than just a punch bag. It didn't work. My mother was over
protective, but was also never satisfied. I always "could have done
better"
My mother paid for me to go to Saint John's College in Portsmouth, well
Southsea actually but nobody in the US of A would have heard of Southsea
whereas they might have heard of Portsmouth. I travelled down on the
train and then walked the last two miles to the school. I had started
just after my 13th birthday, which was at the end of August. Before that
I went to a Secondary Modern school. [In UK we start at secondary school
at age 11 and leave at 16] I was pitifully shy and also thin, so I was a
ripe target for bullies. I was also quite bright and liked school, so
that made things even worse. After my sporty brother won a free place at
a Grammar School my mother decided to send me to the school she had
always thought of as the best in the area. St John's was a Catholic
School where most of the teachers were, in fact, monks. The present
problems with the Catholic Church in USA were rife in the school and I
fell foul to their lust, but that is another story.
I was in that time when sexuality is coursing through a body, but there
is no knowledge or understanding about it. I could not talk to my
parents. My father would not talk to me at all and my mother was almost
Victorian in her prudish attitude to sex. It had to find out on my own. I
had all ready found out that it felt good to rub my hard cock and soon
found the pleasure of shooting. It was my secret and I felt nobody else
knew about things like that. I thought it was very dirty and probably
against the law, but it felt so good. By accident I had found that some
toilets had drawings and writing on the walls and so of it was really
interesting. I never wanked off at home in case my parents found out. My
brother was a sneak in every way. Telling my parents about things I did
(sometime about things I had not done but he never bothered with the
truth) and also sneaking around to catch me out. These toilets were not
only a source of relief, but of knowledge and stimulation. I know it
sounds naive, but it never crossed my mind that the holes in the walls
went right through, and that men might be spying on me, for ages.
There was one toilet on my way from school to the railways station at a
place called Fratton Bridge. It was one of those really old, possibly
Victorian buildings. It had high gloss dark tiles on the walls, copper
pipes and old cast iron cisterns. It was a really dirty smelly place, the
walls were always covered in condensation and the floor was usually very
wet. There were two cubicles at one end, and the urinals were along a
wall at right angles to the cubicles. There was a zigzag type entrance so
you couldn't see in until you had walked past these two short walls and
the floor was concrete so you could hear anyone coming in. Also, and a
big bonus to me, there were holes in the cubicle doors so you could see
the men at the urinals. The walls of the cubicles were mostly tiles, but
the upper part was painted in a green colour as I remember. The doors
were painted a green/blue colour. Both the upper part of the walls and
the doors had writing on them, and that was what interested me. I used to
go in there on my way home and read the stuff people had written and have
a quick wank (I jerked off for our American readers), and then run to the
station about three hundred yards away just in time to catch my train.
Sometimes I would wank off again in the train toilet on the way home.
I had been doing this for about two months when the event of this tale
happened and my life was changed for ever. I was 13 years and six months
old. I was slim and shy and fascinated by what I read on the walls of
toilets. Sex just seemed exciting and yet dirty at the same time. I felt
like I was the only one who did the things I did and thought the things I
thought. I knew in some way it was wrong and I had to keep it a deep
secret, but at the same time it felt so good.
This evening it happened I went to the toilet as usual and went into the
cubicle on the right as I faced them. The other cubicle door was ajar so
I guessed it was empty and I thought I would change round when I had read
everything new in the one I was going into. As the floor was wet I did
what I usually did and hung my school blazer on a nail in the dividing
wall. Then I took my trousers off and hung them up there too. I was soon
reading and wanking. I sensed a movement to my right as I was reading
stuff on the door and turned to see my trousers and jeans disappearing
over the top of the dividing wall. I was terrified. I thought they were
being stolen and I was going to be left wearing just my school shirt and
tie, my pants (briefs for those in US of A), and my shoes and socks. I
didn't know what to do. My erection vanished in seconds.
Then rolled up piece of paper came through the hole in the dividing wall.
I opened it and read it. "If you want your clothes back open the door
and I will give them to you"
I didn't know what to do. My pens were in my blazer pocket not in my
school bag so I couldn't write anything back. I didn't know of the man
who had sent to note was going to beat me up, or was a Policemen or what;
but I knew I couldn't go home as I was. How could I explain loosing my
trousers! I hesitated for a couple of minutes and then slowly slide back
the bolt on the door.
I didn't have time to open the door. It was pushed open, this man came
in, and he locked the door again behind him. He said nothing, hung my
clothes back on the nail and sat on the seat. I looked at him.
He was fat and dirty. He was wearing the uniform of a railway worker.
There was a big yard at Fratton so it was not unusual to see railway men
around. He looked disgusting, smelt dirty and had a leering smile on his
face. He kept looking down at my crotch and it was only then that I
realised my pants were down round my knees still.
I went to pull them up but he stopped me. He stood up, picked me up and
stood me on the toilet seat. Then he grabbed by cock. He rubbed it but I
was too scared so nothing happened. Then he leant forward and sucked it
into his mouth. I tried to pull back but he held my bum so I couldn't.
He started sucking my cock and even though I was scared to hell I felt I
was getting hard again. I did get hard and it started to feel good. In
fact it started to feel great and I think I must have moaned or something
because he stopped for a second and said,
"Feels good don't it nipper" [NIPPER is a word for a male child used
in UK some years ago]
I don't think I said much but I felt as lot as he went back to sucking
me. I could feel that I was getting closer and closer and I knew I would
come soon and I thought he would be angry if I did it in his mouth so I
started to say
"Stop stop"
He carried on till I was almost shooting and then he stopped, stood up
and lifted me down and sat me on the seat. Then he opened his fly, pulled
out this huge fat cock and said,
"My turn now nipper"
I looked up at his face in horror and he was leering at me and holding
the small fold over wallet I kept my train ticket and dinner money in. It
also had my name and address written in it.
So you name is ********** and you live in Fareham do you. I knew then I
was stuffed. He knew my name, my address and also, because I wore a
school uniform, what school I went to.
"We'll keep this between ourselves if you are a good kid and do as you
are told"
Then he pulled my face towards that fat cock.
"Open you mouth now *****"
I could smell sweat and pee as his cock touched my face. I thought I was
going to be sick. I could also see thick dark hair! I know it might sound
strange but I had never seen an adult cock so I didn't know about pubic
hair. I didn't have any and though that was normal for all males. I was
both terrified and nauseated. I opened my mouth to ask him to stop and he
pushed the end off his cock against my lips and teeth.
"No teeth now nipper, just like I did it to you"
With that he pushed some more and the fat end slide into my mouth. He
grabbed a handful of my hair and twisted.
"I said mind the teeth"
I did my best to keep my teeth out of his way. He groaned and pushed some
more. More of that gross fat cock slid into my mouth and touched the back
of my throat.
"Now suck it like I sucked yours, like you were sucking a lolly"
I tried to do what he said and sucked hard on it.
"That's it nipper, you're good; now slide up and down it at the same
time"
I did what he told me, but it was difficult as I had no idea what he
wanted really and was feeling sick with the taste and the smell. Before
long I didn't have to worry about sliding up and down it as he took
over. He was moaning and grunting and pushing his cock down my throat
then pulling it almost out so the fat end was pushing against the back of
my teeth.
"Oh god kid, yeah, keep sucking it, yeah keep sucking it, this is soo
good oh yeah god yeah you are fantastic"
It was a stupid feeling, but somehow I felt sort of proud that I was
making a grown up man feel so good and that a grown up man was saying
nice things about me. I still thought I was going to throw up especially
when he forced the fat end down my throat. My jaw was hurting because it
was being forced open more than it had ever been before, but in a way I
also felt proud. My mind had not worked out what the extra noises meant.
But I soon found out.
Suddenly he started to make like strangled grunting noises and he his
body seemed to freeze and go stiff. He stopped pulling right out; just
pulled back a little bit and then pushed hard in again a couple of times.
The he gave one big shove, froze, made a loud sort of strangled scream
and I felt his cock throb in my mouth twice.
It was then I realised what was going to happen but he had his hands on
the back of my head, holding me pressed into his crotch as his cum pumped
into my mouth and throat. It seemed like there was gallons of it. I was
bitter and thick and tasted of cigarettes.
I refused to swallow, but the result was that my mouth got flooded and it
went into my nose. He rocked backwards and forwards about five or six
times, just a little movement. He was like pulling back about an inch and
then ramming his cock back down my throat, and each time he pumped more
cum into my mouth. In the end I had to swallow or I thought I would
drown. It tasted horrible and I started retching. He held his cock in my
mouth for a bit longer and it started to go soft. He pulled it out very
slowly.
"Keep your lips closed over my cock and keep sucking it. Hold your
tongue against the underneath as I pull out"
I was in a daze and did what he told me. I never realised he was getting
me to clean his cock for him. Eventually he pulled it right out, slipped
it back into his dirty underwear and did up his fly.
"My shifts mean I can't see you for about three weeks *****, but then I
expect you to be here, on Monday in three weeks time. I will put a note
on the door to make sure you know so keep checking"
"I can't do that. I don't like this"
"I didn't ask if you liked it of if you wanted to do it again ****.If
you don't meet me again I will visit your school, or maybe you house. I
know where you live and you go to St John's, I can tell from your
uniform. I bet some of the monks would love to know you hang around
toilets and suck men's cocks. (I later found out that what he said was
very true, some of the monks did love just that sort of thing). So you do
as you are told and we will get along real good and have some great times
together. See ya soon nipper"
With that he opened the door and left. I locked the door and started to
cry. At the same time I started retching to get the cum out of me but it
didn't work. I wiped my eyes and then wiped the cum that had run down my
nose and face. I put my trousers and blazer on and picked up my bag. I
pulled back the bolt on the door and opened it.
I hadn't worked things out. I just was not thinking right. There were
two men in the urinals and they were wanking (jerking off) their cocks
right in front of me. They must have heard everything and worked out what
was going on.
"Come on kid, what about us now. Want to suck some more?"
I ran to the entrance and could hear them laughing behind me. I ran to
the train station to catch my train. Who should I see walking along the
other platform towards the railway sheds but the man from the toilet. He
was talking to another man. He looked over and I saw him nudge the man he
was talking to and point across towards me. Then my train arrived.
I sat right in the corner trying to bury myself in the seat so nobody
could see me. I felt everyone must know what I had just done. I knew I
couldn't meet him because the school holiday started in two weeks time
so I wouldn't be there. What if he came to my home?? I didn't go back
to the toilet at Fratton Bridge for ages, but it didn't make any
difference. I went into two other toilets and there was a note on the
wall.
"To the St John's boy, see you again soon"
He was like advertising me in other toilets so I couldn't go anywhere
without being reminded. I visited the toilet at Fratton Bridge just
before the school holiday and there was the note.
"To the St John's boy don't forget our date. I want more of your
pretty little mouth"
I felt sick and wanted to die. He didn't get what he wanted because of
the school holiday; but he knew where I lived, where I went to school and
my name. He didn't get what he wanted when he wanted it, but it wasn't
the end: it was just the beginning of two years of servitude to him and
his friends!