I am PeterCorbett, AKA (Irishmoose). Part #1 of 2.
I was born on 13 March 1939, to a "mother", whom since the day of my birth had emotionally, physically and mentally abused me. I was a boy of twins, the other was a sister whom had died at birth. We were premature at 28 weeks. I was always told that the wrong twin had lived. I was always considered worthless, useless and would never amount to anything. I was always at the brunt of her anger, I was constantly beaten,berated and in a fit of uncontrolable anger had knives thrown at me. I was hated by my "mother" from day one. I had no love, no "motherly" nurturing and no "motherly" emotions shown. But I had a sister three years younger than I. But I have no recollections of a father ever being around to love and protect me. But as a very young boy I had always wished that my "mother" was DEAD. At about the age of 4-5 my "mother" had taken a great interest in cleaning my penis, in the bath tub and while drying it off. She would pull the foreskin back and with the towel make me feel ticklish, it got hard, and at times she kissed it and at times it felt good. Her sexual abuse lasted until I was sent off to that Catholic orphanage/Home at the age of 10. Now she and I quite often slept very close together, real close, now if anything further sexually happened between us, as of this posting it hasen't surfaced. Due to the complete range of abuse towards me, I was a very slow learner, doing poorley in school. I was always getting into some sorts of trouble. I was just a big pain in the ass to all. I went to public schools until the 3rd grade, when my "mother" was asked to enroll me into a Catholic school, where the classes were smaller and the Nuns had more time to spend on their students. Well this still very young undisciplined young boy was a terror to the Nuns too. I was often at their brunt of their frustrations as they were trying to help me, but to no avail. And they sure did not put up with any young boys foolishness, as dicipline was swift and painful. They had again asked my "mother" to transfer me to another Catholic school. Or perhaps to an orphanage/Home, as nobody could seem th be able to tame me.
During this time I had an aunt who had run a restaurant, and being that I NEVER wanted to be at "home", i hung out at my aunts restaurant helping do menial tasks. It was there where a friend of the family worked his name was RALPH, he knew about my "home" problems, and he hadshown an interest in me. Heshowed me things, he talked to me and he paid attention to me. I was just the kind of boy that he was looking for. At times he had to go to the cellar and get some supplies for upstairs, and he always needed my help. One day he grabs me and starts to feel me up, it sure felt good, it made me warm all over, I got a boner (hard on/erection) wow that was something new to me, except when my mother made it happen to me, but I was a bit older 8 years old. Then he shows me his penis, wow, it was huge (compaired to mine). Well over a very short time he had me show him mine, all I had to do was stick it out from my drawers for him to see and hold wow, it got hard again, and it felt good. Well a very short time later he had me masturbate him and he did me too, that felt even better. But he has stuff coming out of his and I did not, he told me that a bit later something will. Then he gets me to drop my drawers and bend over, and I did. And wow that sure did hurt when he peritrated me for the first time, he tells me to try and not scream at the pain, after that time it felt good too. The warmpth of his body felt good too. But he was not finished teaching me new things, as the next step was giving him blowjobs, that was yucky stuff, he made me swallow his stuff,but I choked up and vomited it all up. I started to cry and he told me that it is all right. He then started to give me blowjobs, but at first nothing came out of mine, he tols me again that it will later, but I enjoyed that too as it sure felt good. Therefore by now I was totally his. As I liked it, it made me feel good and I wanted more of it. I even instigated it. I even went to his house looking for it, after all he loved me and I loved him. He was the ONLY person who ever had paid any kind of attention to this young boy. He gave me what my "mother" had refused, love, nurturing and an emotional connectivness. There was this litle girls mother whom came to the restaurant to visit with my aunt, and had her little girl ( about the same age as me 8), well Ralph would get me and her into the telephone booth with him, he would then rub my and the little girls face into his crotch, you could tell that he was geting a boner, he would then get me and this little girl to rub ourselfs together (then I got a boner) but we had our clothes on. Then at times he would take us to the cellar where he had raped me numerous times. Nowif he had me and that girldo anything to him or each other, I cannot recall at this time. I was Ralph's totally for many years, including the summer vacation times from the Working Boys'Home.
A friend of mine whose mother knew of my abuse, went to see our Catholic parish priest about getting me some help in getting away from the abusive "home" that i was in. Fr. Bear knew of just the place for me, but first I would have to be accepted. It was called The Working Boys' Home, a Catholic orphanage/Home it was run by a Catholic men's religious order, the Xaverian Brothers. It went from grades 5 - 8. On a dark August night in the year of 1949, me, my "mother" and Fr. bear drove out to the Working Boys' Home. We were met at the door by the Brother superior. I was sent to a waiting room alone, while Fr. Bear & my "mother" and the Brother superior talked about this scared very young boys fate. While I was waiting for someone to come and check up on me and let me know just what I was getting myself into. I being in a strange, sort of dark room and place, very lonely and very scared, I peed my pants, worring about my fate. What seemed like an hour or so, a Brother Aubert comes in to see me, he was alone. He then welcomes me to my new family, home and my brothers, whom were boys just like me, either orphans or boys whom "mothers" did not want. Having sen that I had wet my pants he told me to see a Brother Kostka, he would give me some clean clothes, then come back and see him. I was then sent upstairs to the upper domritory to meet a Brother Seraphim, he was the dormitory supervisor. I was given a pair of pajamas and shown where my bed was and was given a short tour of where our washroom was and where the bathroom was. There were about 25-30 boys in the upper dorm, we were either in the 5th or 6th grade, and in about the same age group. Our shower night was every Saturday evening, and it was then that we were supposed to change our clothes. The Brother who ran the shower room and was responsible for washing, repairing and returning our clothes has always accused us boys of trying to give him lockjaw, as our socks and drawers smelled terrible. Now my drawers were usually soiled as I was into masturbating every day. Yep, this Catholic boy masturbating in GODS HOUSE. We were usually lined up by class and age groups to take our showers. Now in the shower room we were supposed to always face the wall and no peeking at the other boys naked bodies. But when we fnished our shower and went into where we dried off, it was our downstairs washroom and over each sink was a mirror, so we could see each ones naked bodies. And boys being boys we checked each other out. Nothing bad mind you. Upon reaching the 7th grade we got to move into the lower dorm. At that time I was still a very lonely, shy boy, I was usually by my self unless we had sports. There was another boy there a loner and about my age and he and I "wrestled" together during our evening free time. While "wrestling" we were rubbing against each other, and in doing so we both got boners (hard on) ane we would feel each other up, it was a nice warm feeling then. We would masturbate at the same time, but never with each other. We were never caught. I also learned how to play strip poker with some other boys, and at times we would have a masturbation contest to see just who could "squirt" the furthest. Oh yes in GODS HOUSE. Now we had to go "home" on the last weekend of the month and for the summer school vacation time. Now "home" was to whom ever wanted to put up with you. I went "home" to my "mother" and it was hell all over again. I tried to stay away from being with her as much as posible, and as such my primary perpertrator had me all to him again,, after all I loved him and I missed him. At this time in order to stay away from "home" I was sneaking rides on the Boston subway system, riding to the far corners of the Boston metro area. It was at those times when some subway workers had spotted a very young boy all alone, at times some would approach me and ask me to go with them. I had a suspicion on just what they wanted me for, I went with them knowing full well on just what was going to happen to me. I did not scream, I did not try and run away and I did not put up a fight. It was the usual with them as it was from my main perpertrator, anal sex and a blowjob. Wher he finished with me, he gave me .50 cents for my troubles. Then and only then did I ever feel shame, guilt, afraid and lonely. I threw away the .50 cents in tears. I will honestly tell you that with Ralph, I never felt shame, guilt, afraid nor lonely. Now I guess that by now the word had gotten out about a lonely boy who had to change trains right there to get back home, and went willingly with them, and the results were always the same with those strangers, guilt, shame,lonliness and scared. Summer school vacation time was hell for me as I was fresh meat all over again. But while all of the abuse was going on I was into my very own world, it was the Army Air Forces, I had my aircraft scrap books,uniform items and aircraft models. It was my mental escape.
Now I remember my "mother" taking me to some sort of hospital/clinic, where we were seperated, and I was always taken to a room with a nurse? (someone with a white coat), where I was given things to do, and while she was talking to me all the time recording our talks on a Dictaphone machine. There was also another time when I was taken into a darkened room and a bunch of wires were hooked up to my head, I cannot recall if I was asked questions while this was going on, but the wires were hooked up to a machine that made those squiggly lines on it. (Something like one of those lie detector machines do in those movies). I never did find out what that was all about with me.
Now back at the Working Boys' Home, I had love, understanding, compassion and an excellent education. With those Brothers, when I was sad, they were sad. When I hurt, they hurt. When I laughed, they laughed, wwhen I cried from wondering just why a "mother" would not love, nurture or want "her" son, they cried too. They understood this very disturbed young boy. They really loved me, and I loved them too, REAL LOVE. I sure owe them a huge debit of gratitude. I have always considered those 4 years of my young life as my best (minus the sexual abuse). I was there from grades 5-8, ages 10-14.
One Sunday while I was at the Home, my "mother" came up to visit me, she had a strange man with her. (Strange to me), and he asked me for MY PERMISSION to marry my "mother", if I said Ok he would then take me into his house to live with them. Now I was only 14 years old, and I guess because while my "mother" was sexually abusing me, and that she always told me that I was the "man" of the house, that she needed my permission. At any rate it was a very big mistake on my part giving my "consent" as he was just as bad as my "mother" with his emotional and mental abuse of me. I even got another tag to add on to being useless, worthless and would never amount to anything and that was a very strong boy with a very weak mind. His parents were just as bad when it came to me, "just why was I included in the marriage deal"? Now with my sister it was ok. Now for some reason while I was in my new "home" i was always running around naked, when no one was "home". I always slept naked, up to the time I went into the Air Force. My only escape from all this abuse was to run away from "home", to get as far away as possible. But that was hard to do, I was still a juvenile. At first I always ran away to my best friends house in East Boston, about 30 miles away. I had no money, so I hitchhiked, stole rides on busses and the subway trains, all the time carrying my prized possessions, my tattered American flag, and my Air Force airplane models in paper sacks. When I got to my friends, they fed me, made sure that I was ok, and tried to talk to me like one of their own sons. Then they called my aunt (the one that had the restaurant) where Ralph "worked", to come and get me when they were ready. My aunt took me back "home", and got into the usual arguements about my "parents" treatment of me, and something has to be done to rectify the situation. However I was constantly running away. There was another friend of the family whom lived a lot closer than Boston, and they took me into their home, they fed me, they clothed me, they gave me love, compassion and understanding, I was just like one of their boys, they had tried to reach in to my soul, but I had my SECRET and nobody could really penitrate my defenses. But while with them for a short time during the summer they tried to give me some self esteem, they tried to get me to show some emotions,to try and love someone, but it was an imposible task on my part.
At times during my summer school vacation time, I would stay with a cousin of mine, he was about 2-3 years younger than I. We slept in the same bed together, we both masturbated together and with each other, and we also got into giving each other blowjobs at times. I was between 11-14 years old. We mutually agreed to stop doing these things together. We also went skinny dipping off a main road bridge in broad daylight, until the sheriff showed up.
(WARNING) I do not know if this is an acceptable topic for here) WARNING
Now while I was living in the country and I had some new step relatives. I had an aunt that had a male dog, he and I went everywhere together, well I started to masturbate him and I had him lick my genitals, we did this for about a year. I was about 14-15 years old. At this time the sexual abuse was all but over, as we had moved out from Boston in 1954. I was finally away from my Ralph, and those total strangers. But the emotional and mental abuse continued unabated, until I turned 17 years old and joined the Air Force and left all that sexual, emotional, physical and mental abuse far behind. Now I was on my own, I was free............. to be continued on part #2

Working Boys' Home 10-14 yrs old, grades 5-8. 1949-1953
A very humble alumni of the WOR Dahlonega, GA.
May 15-17 2009, Alta, Sep. 2009. Sequoia, 2010.
Hope Springs, 2010.