In the dimly lit, intimate room, twinks sit in a circle, their eyes darting nervously between each other and the director. The air is thick with tension and the musk of young, unspent hormones. "Today, boys," the director says, "we're going to make men out of you." They strip, their bodies lean and toned, untouched by time or experience. They learn to touch each other, their hands exploring cocks and balls, their mouths learning to suck. The room fills with the sounds of wet, sloppy blowjobs. Then, the director presents a bottle of lube. "It's time to take what you've been given," he says. One by one, they bend over, presenting their small, puckered holes. The first cock presses against an entrance, and with a guttural moan, the twink is claimed, marked as a broken boy, ready for the world of gay porn.