PUSSY
By DannyR (MM/tt/bb, oral, anal, incest, pedo)
Copyright 2012. All rights reserved.
Author’s Reminder: Don’t forget that inquiring authors want to know -- what did you think? So when you’re done, put your fingers to a dried-off, cleaned-up keyboard and start by typing: dr_harris_81@hotmail.com.
DISCLAIMER: Some folks apparently have trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality. This story is a fantasy. It didn’t happen. Never will. And anyone who attempts to do in real life all or any of the things depicted in the story needs to be hanged, then drawn and quartered, and then turned over to the cops for the harshest penalties the law allows. After that, well, hopefully everything Law and Order and the news say is true about child molesters in prison, is really true. Now that we’re clear on what’s what, and what’s not, read on.
SPECIAL NOTE: One of my readers wrote to tell me briefly about being molested by a church camp counselor when he was nine, and then coming home to teach his five year old brother everything he learned. We wrote a couple of times, with me getting some great ideas for this story, but when the first part was finished...and this is my take on the “bare” bones of what happened to him...his email was no longer good. So, guy, if you read this, you know who you are. I think a lot of pedo fantasy porn wankers will thank you!
CAMP PUSSY
Day 1
Fifteen nine and ten year old boys all saying “what the fuck!” without saying the actual words, this was, after all, a Bible camp for boys, make a lot of noise.
It didn’t bother Tom, who’d just introduced himself to us as the camp counselor for Cabin 3. He was a senior at Lexington Spirit of the Lord Bible College (which wasn’t actually in Lexington), the church that sponsored this camp. That meant he was an almost holy man, a near-preacher. It’s what the not quite a pastor said next that started the ruckus.
“Now boys, here at Spirit of the Lord Bible Camp, we’re all equal in the sight of our Lord, so that means we all dress the same. No parading around being vain, proud that your clothes may be better than the boy’s in the bunk next to you. So you all need to undress right now, fold your clothes neatly and put them in the bag marked with your name, and then pick out two pairs of shorts from this trunk, and a pair of sandals from this trunk.”
He gestured to the two trunks sitting in the middle of the floor. And waited.
Naturally, no one moved. No one wanted to be the first boy to get undressed. In freaking public! Okay, not quite, since our parents or whoever brought us were all gone, and so was Preacher Bob, so it was just Tom and us. Tom sighed. A big sigh.
“Boys, here at camp you’re required to be good boys, which the Lord knows you must be or you wouldn’t have been chosen to attend, and that means doing what the camp counselors, and Preacher Bob, tell you to do. Now maybe you’re nervous about other boys seeing your pee-pee,” and here most of us giggled kind of nervously at hearing the word said out loud, by an adult no less, “but we’re all guys here, and we all have ‘em, so it’s no big deal. Here, I’ll go first.”
We watched, open mouthed, as Tom unbuttoned the white short-sleeved button down shirt with the church symbol on it, pulled it out of his waistband, took it off, and folded it carefully. He walked over to the table at the side with the bags, lifted one to show us it was his, and then came back to us. He dropped the bag on the floor, and set his shirt on the nearest bed. His white tee-shirt, with the damp stains in his pits, was next. Luckily, I wasn’t the only one who gasped. He was slender, but with lots of muscle, tanned skin, thick curly hair around his nipples, and a wide trail of fur that led down to his jeans. Thick curly hair in his pits, too. He folded the tee and set it on top of the shirt.
We were breathless as he unbuckled the belt on his khaki pants, kicked off the loafers he was wearing, unzipped, pulled down his pants, and hopped from one foot to another to get out of them. All he was wearing was tighty-whities and white socks. And there was a big bulge in the front of his undies. My dickie began to tingle. I didn’t know why.
But it wasn’t the first time. It happened a lot lately. Almost every time I saw a dick. Boy dick, man dick, it didn’t matter. My dickie got tingly and if I looked long enough, all stiff, too.
Tom folded the pants, put them on the pile, and sat on the edge of the bed, his hairy tanned legs kind of spread, and casually looked at all of us just staring at him. I kind of thought he paused for a minute when he saw me, maybe because I’d had my hand on my dickie and quickly pulled it away, but then his eyes went on around the room. He lifted each foot slowly and peeled off the socks, folding them and adding them to the stack.
Oh wow, he had hair on his feet, too! They were long and slender, with long toes. My dickie twitched. That was a first. My dickie moving when I looked at a guy’s feet.
Tom casually tugged at his bulge, like he was scratching an itch or something. I thought maybe the bulge got a little bigger. He leaned forward, opened the bag, and pulled out a pair of kind of old, worn shorts with the camp symbol, kind of faded, on them. He set them on the bunk, and then carefully put his shoes at the bottom of the bag, and then rest of the clothes on top. Standing, he leaned forward and peeled his undies down, stepped out of them, folded them and put them in the bag. He pulled the ties on the top to close it.
I got a nice view of his hairy ass while he bent over with the bag. He even reached around to scratch his ass. I had a quick glimpse of his asshole. I’d never seen an asshole before. I wondered if everyone’s was like that. Bulgy, and brown and thick looking, with little creases and a kind of indent in the middle. When he stood up he turned so he was facing us. Oh, man. His cock was half hard, uncut, curved down and over his hairy, hairy balls. But he acted like it wasn’t happening. He scratched his balls, kind of casual-like. I gulped. I thought he heard me, but wasn’t sure.
And then he stepped into, and pulled up his shorts. His tight shorts. His very tight shorts. With no undies!
There was a general gasp this time as we boys figured out what this meant. Everyone had to dress alike to be equal in the sight of the Lord. We all had to wear shorts. Tom put on his shorts without undies. We’d have to wear shorts without undies.
Impossible. Boys had to wear undies. Clean undies. No poop marks at the back and pee stains in the front. Clean undies all the time. Mom said so; dad said so. Everyone knew that. It was like a law or something. A law of nature. A law of God. But this was God’s Bible camp, so, so...so we were pretty confused little boys.
Tom cut through the crap, though I didn’t know it was that at the time. He’d been through this before. He looked around like he hadn’t already made up his mind, and then looked at me. “What’s your name, young man?”
“Jare, uh, Jarod Alexander.”
“How old are you, Jare-uh-Jarod Alexander?” His smile was teasing, which I found out when I managed to lift my head away from staring at his dick.
“Nine.”
“Are you a good boy?”
I nodded.
“Brave?”
Not fucking likely, but no little boy is going to deny being brave in front of his peers. I nodded even more vigorously.
“So why don’t you be the first one to pick out your shorts and sandals?”
“O...okay.”
I started to head toward the trunks but he put up his hand and stopped me. “Uh-uh, Jare. Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Oh. Well, fuck. So that’s what he meant about being brave. I was going to be the first boy to get naked. And my dickie was stiff. Shit.
Tom chuckled. “Have you got a stiffie, Jare?”
When you’re a skinny boy, blond hair to your shoulders in the back, blue eyes, pale skin because you’re never outdoors for long, even with your clothes on it’s damned clear when you’re blushing. All fucking over. Though the swearing was in my head. I figured my daddy would whomp me good if I ever said that kind of stuff out loud. But I was, somehow or other, pretty foul mouthed by the time I hit eight, and only got better a whole year later.
“Don’t worry about it, Jare. We’re all guys here. We’ve all had stiffies, right?” He looked around the room and the others blushed and mumbled and most everyone nodded. Only a few looked confused.
“It just happens sometimes. Well, heck, just like now.”
He tugged the front of his shorts down below his balls. Looked down at his own dickie. Oh, wow, it was so damn big. Seven and a half inches, I learned later. Wide mushroom head. A little bit of a curve down at the knob end. And it just kept on rising up until it was as hard as mine.
I gulped. So did a bunch of the other boys. None of us had ever seen man dick before, and now we were not only seeing one, but seeing one with a stiffie. I looked away, and stripped as fast as I could, as if speed would somehow make it better. It wasn’t until I was naked, with my three bare-balled inches standing out in front of me, that I realized I’d have to walk naked past all the staring boys to the table with the bags, and bring back mine. Shit.
So I did it, bright pink skin all over, dickie pointing the way. I opened one trunk. It was the one with a whole bunch of worn, faded shorts. Pairs, held together with a safety pin. Lots of fucking pairs. And I’d have to bend over, which would maybe give everyone a look at my asshole. I gulped again, and my dickie kind of twitched. Did Tom know I’d seen his asshole? Was he looking at mine?
I couldn’t help myself. I paused in pawing through the trunk, looking for shorts that looked like they might fit me, and did just what Tom had done. Reached behind me with my left hand, kind of tugged on my left ass cheek for a second, and then “scratched.”
I found shorts that looked like they’d fit, when I held them up to my front, though my stiff dickie was in the way. I opened the box of sandals. Each pair was held together by a tied piece of string. They were easier since we were all pretty much the same size, and so were our feet. They looked kind of old and worn, too. I wondered if any of them had been worn by Tom.
As I started to walk back toward my bag with my prizes, Tom said, “See boys, how brave Jare is? So why don’t you all do the same now?”
And they did. Though it got a little confusing as they nervously stripped bare, some with no stiffies at all, some half, some all the way hard. I kind of smirked inside. I was the biggest one.
As I was slightly struggling to get my shorts pulled up, since they were kind of small and kind of tight, but all the rest of them looked like they’d be the same way, Tom dropped to his knees in front of me, hiding me from the other boys. “Need some help, kiddo?” he asked very softly.
I nodded. Gulped when he tucked his thumbs inside the waistband and pulled, with a little tugging, the shorts up over my still stiff little dickie to my waist. Still talking softly, he said, “Now once men get their shorts on, they have to be sure their cocks are comfy. Do you want me to show you how?”
I was no dummy. I’d worn enough underwear (well, duh) to know about making sure my dickie was comfortable inside. But Tom was going to touch me down there? And wasn’t that a bad touch? But he just smiled at me, and spread his knees just a little bit wider. I looked down at Tom’s own hardon, bulging his shorts. And knew I wanted to touch it. So if I let him, maybe....
I nodded.
He used his left hand to pull out the waistband, and with his large right hand reached all the way down, cupping my hairless nine year old balls and then using a thumb and forefinger he caressed my nail hard stiffie, wiggled it just a little. And then left it right where it had been! With a big smile for me as he took his hand out.
I looked over his shoulder. The other boys weren’t paying attention, but even in that first pedo sex contact, and yes, Tom explained later what pedos were, and what they liked, I instinctively knew you had to be quick. So I said with equal softness, “Can I help you?”
Tom’s eyes widened with shock. He really hadn’t expected that. It was his turn to nod, with a mouthed, “Be quick.”
I almost moaned when I reached inside and felt his college cock, and the thick hairs around it. I hurriedly straightened it out so it was stretched up and at an angle. When I pulled my hand out I gave his meat a quick squeeze, and he groped my shorts covered cock, too.
Silently, he picked up my right sandal, held it as I slid my foot in, working the thing between my big toe and first toe. He held the sandal in his right hand, and his left hand was on my calf, all warm. He was staring at my slender boy feet, so I wiggled my toes. He inhaled. Wow. Did he like boy feet? Did it make his dickie twitch like his man feet did for me? I guess, because he was kind of quick helping me on with the other sandal.
He stood up, his hard dickie momentarily right in my face he was so close, and casually turned back to the rest of the boys. Eventually he got them all into their shorts, and their sandals, their own clothes (somewhat) neatly in their bags, along with their extra shorts. We were still kind of embarrassed since we had no undies, and no shirts. But neither did Tom.
Then came the next big shock. He opened a cabinet and pulled out two stacks of towels and handed them out. They were soft and well-worn, too. And he blithely announced he was going to show us where the showers were, since it was Cabin 3’s turn for a shower.
A shower? When it was just late afternoon? When we weren’t even dirty, much less the kind of dirty that made our moms yell at us to go get clean? And the mom-yelling level of dirt was the only thing that made a shower even remotely necessary. But we were children of the Lord, and all good boys, so we did as we were told, and trooped behind him as he led us down a path that took us past Cabins 2 (11 and 12 year old boys, eight of them, Tom explained) and 1 (six 13 and 14 year old boys), to a weather beaten wooden building.
Inside he took us to a big room with lots of lockers and benches. Some of the lockers were tall, but a lot of them were short enough for us to use. He told us to find a locker, and put our sandals and shorts in, and then he’d show us where the showers were.
Somehow, I wound up with Tom having the locker next to me, though he had to sit on the bench to really get at it. He kicked off his sandals into the locker, and then lifted his hips and wiggled out of his shorts, got them down on one foot and used that to toss them into the locker. I had to look. His dickie was mostly soft, but when I realized I was staring and looked up, he was smiling at me, and just winked as he closed the door. When he stood up, he draped his towel around his shoulders. Like good little boys whose pee-pees were suddenly on display, we had our towels wrapped around our waists.
“C’mon, guys, we gotta get clean.”
So fifteen towel-covered nine and ten year olds followed the naked hairy college counselor to the shower room, where the fucking shocks just kept on. First we had to be naked in front of each other, and wear shorts with no undies, and take a shower in the goddamn afternoon. And then we were going to have to be naked and shower in front of everybody. There were no curtains, no walls, no nothing. Just two rows of showerheads along each wall. And there were only twelve!
Tom just acted like nothing was wrong, and just told us to pair off and share a shower. I kind of lingered in the hope I could share with Tom but he wound up with the littlest one of us all. Aaron. He was eight, but was going to be nine in a couple of days, I found out later. Dark hair, brown eyes. A tiny dickie and tiny balls. Lucky little bastard.
All we did was shower, though. Some of us got stiffies, including Aaron and me, some didn’t. I was the first, but as soon as a couple of the others started with that sing-song, taunting, “Jarod’s got a stiff-ie” Tom shut them up again. We dried off, and I didn’t have the guts to ask Tom for “help” in the hopes of getting up close to his dickie again. Then back to the cabin, where we hung our towels up to dry in the sun.
Tom told us which bunks we were in. I wound up in the bottom bunk nearest to Tom’s private room. No one had the top bunk. Then he gathered us around him again to explain a few things about the camp activities, including some private Bible study time with the counselors and perhaps even Preacher Bob. He also explained about pissing and shitting.
Not that we didn’t know what those things were but once again there was the shock of an adult saying the words to us. There was a regular toilet in the shower building, with three stalls and a trough urinal that was low enough for us to use. But that was only if we were there to take showers anyway. The rest of the time, if all we had to do was piss, we could just go outside and do it against a tree, but if we had to shit, we definitely had to use the two-holer behind the cabin.
An outhouse. An actual outhouse. And he pointed to where the toilet paper was. Locked up! We had to ask for toilet paper! In front of everyone, and then go to the outhouse while all the other boys watched us leave. And knew what we were doing. Okay, so we all pissed and shit, and we all knew it, but this was somehow so embarrassing to make a big deal out of it.
That evening I held it as long as I could, trying to not have to go until morning when I could use one of the real toilets in the shower hall, but Tom figured it out. And got the toilet paper and just handed it to me. I was bright red again but I took it and left.
The outhouse didn’t even have a lock inside. It didn’t smell real bad, but then the camp had just opened up. I pulled down my shorts and then had to almost struggle to get onto the seat. It was kind of high for little boys, but I managed to get in place with my feet dangling and my flip-flops on the floor. And then the door opened.
It was Tom. He tugged on his shorts and dropped them to his ankles and his hairy meat started plumping up. He turned and sat on the hole next to me. As he pushed his dick between his legs he looked over at me and winked. “Jare, guy, you’re gonna have to push your dick down. No pissing all over yourself.”
It was kind of dim so maybe he didn’t see my millionth blush of the day. My little dickie was stiff again. I had to spread my legs and kind of scoot back a bit to make it point down, and my bare leg rubbed up against his hairy one. We sat there and all of a sudden I heard him pissing, which set me off. I couldn’t help wondering what he looked like when he was pissing. And then came the plops! From both of us. A man and a boy, almost naked, side by side in an outhouse. Kind of intimate, almost.
When he was done, he had me pass him the toilet paper, and he kind of lifted up his right hip to wipe, which made him lean into me, and I breathed in the smells of the outhouse and his sweat. My dickie got hard again. I figured he’d just go, and then I could wipe and play with my dickie, maybe give myself tingles like I’d learned how to do a little after my eighth birthday.
Tom had a better idea.
“C’mon, kiddo, you can’t stay out here all night playing with yourself,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
And with that he tugged me, and I half fell onto his lap, with my right hand right in his hairs at the base of his dick, my left hand on his thigh. Since I was tilted he had easy access to my ass, and he wiped me clean, just like I was a baby or something, dropping the used paper down the hole. Then he did it once more, only this time his finger kind of rubbed over my bottom hole. I sighed.
“You like me touching you, don’t you, Jare?” he whispered. I nodded. He rubbed my bottom hole some more and then sat me back up. Both of us were hard.
“Is it okay if I touch your boy cock?” I nodded again, instinctively spreading my legs and slouching back, ignoring the wooden edge of the hole pressing into me. He took hold of my stiffie with his thumb and two fingers and began stroking me, using his other hand to feel me up, rubbing a thumb over my suddenly stiff boy tits, playing with my balls, reaching between my legs to gently rub my bottom hole. I moaned and tossed my head as he jacked faster.
“Oh, yeah, baby, I knew you were a special boy. You like having a man play with your dickie?”
The tingles were starting and all I could do was whimper and nod my head. Pretty soon I started panting and my body got all twitchy and I started to yell but Tom put his hand over my mouth as his adult hand gave me the best tingles I’d ever had.
When I finally calmed down I opened my eyes and saw Tom jacking his own hairy meat, looking at me intensely. “You like your cum, Jare?”
“Huh?”
“You just had a dry cum, little man.”
Then I understood he meant my tingles. “Yeah.” My dickie was stiff again.
Tom told me to stand between his legs. “Did you like touching my dick earlier?”
I nodded, but had my head down looking at his stroking hand.
“You want to see what happens when a man cums? Help me out like I helped you?”
Fuck, yeah. I reached out with my slender nine year old hand and wrapped it around his dick. Started moving my hand up and down like he was doing. It was Tom’s turn to moan. I speeded up a little, slowed down, speeded up.
Then he put his big hand over mine and stopped me. I looked up. Blinked at the expression on his face. An expression I eventually saw a lot, on all the men who molested my eager boy body, sucking me, fucking my holes. I knew what a child molester was. Daddy didn’t know I heard him on the phone last year, talking about a guy a couple of counties over who got arrested for molesting his little girl. I knew that meant bad touching. I just hadn’t known how much fun being molested could be
“Would you like to be a really special boy while you’re at camp, Jare?” His thumb caressed the back of my hand. His cock twitched. “You could be...the cabin pussy.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, sometimes the counselors find a really special little boy, who likes to play with their own little dickies, and with man cocks, too. So we make him a cabin pussy boy. And teach him all sorts of fun things he can do with his boy dick and his sexy boy body.”
“With your dickie, too?”
“Fuck, yeah, Jare. You ‘n me, we’re gonna do a lot of fun sexy stuff. But it has to be our secret. Can you keep a secret like a big boy?”
I squeezed his leaking dick and smirked. “Fuck, yeah!”
He smiled back. “Okay, kid, lemme teach you how to jack off a man and make him cum. It’ll be pretty fast this time, though. We gotta get back to the cabin.”
With his hand still over mine he began jacking his meat. My hand got all slimy with some clear juice that was leaking from his cock, and got even slicker when he’d rotate my hand around the knob before moving back down the shaft. He started jacking even faster.
“Oh, fuck, Christ, Jare, you’re gonna make such a good cabin pussy, fuck, maybe even camp pussy. Yeah, oh fuck yeah, here it comes, kid!”
And with that huge blobs of thick white stuff spurted out of his cock, straight up in the air, and then came down on his hand and mine, while he was kind of gasping. When he was done, and his cock started to get soft he let my hand go. “See, kid, that’s what happens when a man cums.”
He raised his hand to his mouth and licked the white stuff off! He gestured at my hand. “Go ahead, Jare. A good pussy boy always licks up his man’s cum. I definitely wanted to be a good pussy boy, so I did what I was told. It was kind of salty, but I liked it.
Tom’s cock had flopped onto his thigh. In the fading light I could see another white drop. Without thinking, I leaned over, grabbed his prick, leaned further and licked it right off his knob.
Tom tousled my hair. “Damn, boy, you’re gonna be a fine pussy boy, a real slut. Got another stiffie, too. Want me to take care of that?”
I just nodded. He started jacking me off again, rougher this time, faster, a thumb and finger pinching my right tit made me gasp as a little shock went through me. I started say, “Oh!” over and over as the tingles built up, and I was shivering but before I could get too loud, Tom grabbed my shoulder length hair with his left hand, forced my head back and kissed me.
I was so surprised I gasped and his big tongue forced its way inside, fucking my little mouth as he held my head in place and jacked harder and faster until suddenly I was dry cumming over and over, whatever sounds I was making swallowed by Tom’s mouth. When my cum was done, Tom lifted his head away.
He grabbed the toilet paper, ripped off a couple pieces, and wiped my mouth off, and his, and his cock knob, and dropped them between his legs.
“C’mon, Jare, get moving.”
He was suddenly brisk and like he was earlier. The child molester look was gone and the camp counselor look was back.
We got our shorts up, our flip flops on, and left the outhouse. As we turned the corner to get to the door, Preacher Bob came out.
“Those boys of yours were making a lot of noise, Tom. You shouldn’t leave them alone so long.”
“Ah, yes sir, sorry, sir. I had to go to the outhouse, and met young Jarod there. We, ah, didn’t realize how much time had gone by.”
“I see. Time flies?”
“Definitely, sir.
“Well, then, just be more careful next time.”
Preacher Bob had changed into a short-sleeved shirt with a preacher’s collar, and shorts, and he just reached down and casually grabbed his crotch. My eyes widened. He wasn’t wearing any undies either! I immediately got another stiffie, which was plainly visible. I was staring right at the hand that squeezed his bulge again, and he was looking down at my boy stiffie, and when we both looked up, for just a second I saw that same boy molester look on the preacher’s face.
He stretched out the hand that had just groped his man dick and balls. “A pleasure to meet you, young Jarod.”
It was his turn for his eyes to go wide, as I reached down with my right hand, squeezed my stiff little dickie and then shook his hand. “Thank you, sir.”
He held onto my hand. “And are you being a good boy, as the Lord requires? Doing everything Tom tells you?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Everything.”
“That’s good to know, young Jarod.” And it was his turn to tousle my hair.
“Go on inside, Jare,” Tom said as he squeezed my shoulder. “See if anyone else needs to use the outhouse, and then it’s lights out. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Tom gave me a light swat on the butt and I went inside carrying the toilet paper roll.
“Anybody else gotta shit?” I asked the room. There were a few nods, still embarrassed, but I handed off the roll and they trooped out.
Later that night, I woke up with a stiffie and decided to do something about it. I tugged down the shorts I was sleeping in and started jacking. A very soft voice came from the lower bed in the bunk next to mine, asking me what I was doing. It was Aaron. There was enough moonlight for him to see me.
I put my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet, and then motioned him to come over. It was so exciting to think that he might watch me play with my dickie and have a dry cum. I wiggled out of my shorts and lay naked on the bed, jacking. His mouth was open and he was just staring at what I was doing.
“Wanna touch?”
He nodded, but I pointed to his own shorts. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, though no way to tell for sure, and then got naked, too. His stiffie was smaller than mine. When he leaned over to delicately touch my bare dick, I did the same for him.
And then I taught little Aaron everything I knew, quickly, as quietly as possible. Aaron definitely liked his first dry cum. After he went back to his bed, I wondered if, when I’d molested Aaron, I’d had that same molester look on my face as we gave each other great cums.
As I fell asleep I knew I was really looking forward to the next day, and having Tom molest me some more.