The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection in real life. `Got condom?'
"Buffalo Boys" 06 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Arriving at Indian Lake, the home of two volleyball courts, the boys marvelled at the sandy outlay. Being the morning, turning into a glorious day, they shucked sneakers, socks and shirts. Of course none grew embarrassed from the morning discipline session, which left candy-cane striped backs on each of the Coyote team's backs and some of the Buffalo Lodge boys.
Running to the courts, Dougie herded his teammates with a rowdy cheer, "Yeah, it's the Buffalo Boys against the Coyote Cocksuckers!"
Some of the Coyote teammates wished they cock do some, watching the front of Dougie's camp shorts bounce up and down!
"Um, we're down one man, Nick."
"That's right," he replied.
Taking it as a hint, Nick too stripped down to his shorts, stepping out of his sneakers and peeling his socks. All eyes remained affixed to the counselor, as he reached for the tail of his tee shirt and lifted it over his head. Even Yves Le Henaff pays keen interest, as the Greek bares his chest.
"Oh my!" Yves says, evident of his French twang.
Surely the others, standing there, one of the Coyotes holding the volleyball still, gaping at Nick Kriopoulos' hot, hairy chest, the strip of black hair separating his stomach, swirling around his navel, more defined as it dips below his belt.
Dougie says to himself, "Hot diggity!"
He earns a swat in the back of the head from Marat.
"Hey, you don't own me!"
"Guess again, boy!" Marat replies.
They exchange smiles.
As a whole, it doesn't go unnoticed, Nick himself having to break up the stare, clapping his hands, "Are we gonna play ball, men?"
Halfway through the game, Yves Le Henaff, already stripped down, participated, fairly a member of the Buffalo Lodge's team. Of course he got cat calls from the Coyote boys, labeling him `traitor'!
Fiteen minutes into the transition, Mark Leitner, camp director strolled into their presence. Accompanying him, a young man now stood, as he chatted with Nick.
"Looks like you're off the hook, Yves!" Nick yelled.
Apparently, the new addition to the Buffalo Lodge, both teams watched as he stripped down.
"I don't have any shorts on."
"That's okay," Nick replied, coaxing the kid over to the court. "Guy's this is Miguel Rojos. Let's make him feel welcome?"
Each lodge in itself, already got along well. Together they doubly clicked. Not only did the Buffalo boys welcome the newcomer, but the Coyote jocks approached Miguel, shaking hands. Soon the game resumed. However, Dougie, as well as a couple of the others, on both teams wondered if the reason Mark Leitner lingered, to talk with Nick and Yves, had been over the successors of the second counselors, if indeed Reinken and Dav has been sacked.
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"So, you think you boys are tough?"
Reinken Michaelis and Dav Khan had just broken up the third fight of the morning. After their confrontation, as counselors of the Buffalo and Coyote lodges, the camp administrator decided the two should rule the toughest, meanest, most unruly squad of boys, the Turtle Lodge. Young men of this division earned their Lodge logo, out of their inability to get along, hence their `slow' response to discipline, which would set them apart in more ways than one, from the rest of the camp. Plus, Mark Leitner figured the two men deserved each other!
At this moment, Reinken stood, pinning Zhao Ziyang's arms behind his back, as did Dav achieve a temporary restraint, holding Bud Lutz in a full nelson. Without warning, one of the other campers steps out in front of Dav and captive, hauling his fist into Bud's gut.
"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Bud belches out
Thinking it's hilarious, eighteen year old Jake Klemmer yells out, mighty proud of himself, "Damn did that feel good!"
"My turn!"
The second hooligan steps forward, fist ready to connect.
"That's what you think, bastard!" Dav Khan yells out.
Still with Zhao's woven in his, gut stretched out wide, Dav moves the eighteen year old's bod to the side. His own foot comes up, targeting Mik Gunnardo's crotch.
"Oh shit that's gotta hurt!"
Jake was right. It `hurt', alright, sending Mik straight to the wooden floor of the cabin.
Turning his own captive, gut-punched Zhao Ziyang, keeled over, on top of Mik.
Even though his crotch pained with throbbing pain, Mik had the ability to audibly bemoan, "Get offa me, Chink!"
"No problem, Nazi!"
"I ain't no Nazi!"
"I ain't no Chink. I'm Chinese-American. At least I ain't no foreigner!"
To Reinken, he thought of how good he had it at the Buffalo Lodge. One consolation, at least he convinced Leitner to let him keep his `concubine', in lieu of what the father of the boy conveyed. Right now, the German counselor wished he was snug in bed, enjoying a hot blow job.
As the mideastern counselor let his Chinese captive free, he set himself on target to capture new bounty.
"What the fuck?" Jake assaulted Dav verbally. "Take these fuckin' bracelets offa me!"
"I think I've got a solution for this," the twenty-eight year old mideastern counselor replied to the whole hullabaloo.
Jake Klemmer tried to dismantle the iron bedframe, trying to free his left wrist, cuffed to it.
Standing there, Dav stood, feet spread, arms across his chest. With a smile, he condemned Jake to, "Go ahead, Zhao. He's all your's!"
Wrestling even more furiously with the foot of the metal bed, Jake yelled out, "You can't be fuckin' serious!"
The cabin erupted in laughter, as Jake tried to take a swing at Zhao, who approached the eighteen year old camper. Backing off, Jake swung a hard right into thin air. Running around the bed, Jake followed, but his one attached hand made his body bounce back around.
For the second time, room boomed with hilarity.
"Bad move, Jake!" Hans Bannart called out.
With agility, Zhao hopped on the bed, landing on his feet. He made use of the surprise move, reaching over Jake's shoulders, grabbing his Timber Creek uniformed shirt, tearing open the buttons, then pinning his arms behind him.
Reinken, now standing next to Dav, tells him, "I like this kid's moves."
As if carrying on a casual conversation, Dav replies, "Yeah. Should be interesting to see what follows."
Now, standing in front of Jake Klemmer, the six foot eighteen year old can only stare, wondering what Zhou, three inches shorter and pounds lighter, has in store for him.
"You keep your fuckin' hands offa me or I swear...."
Even Reinken and Dav laugh their asses off, as Zhou takes a jab at Jake's gut. Psyching him out, Jake figured it would be a hard gut punch, so backed off, doubling half over, as if trying to protect himself. Of course, the fake out, on Zhou's part, brought the house of hooligans down.
"Tough luck, Jake" came the response, from Alf Moshammer.
Probably the most intelligent of the bunch, who's obstinate attitude has gotten him into more trouble, sighed, his foot in between Jake's legs, leaning his foot on his set of balls, after Jake getting leveled out by Zhou's next swift jab.
"Alright! The entertainment's over. Hit the showers!"
As the boys all headed towards the back of the Turtle Lodge, Reinken and Dav walked over to Jake. Still cuffed to the rail at the foot of the bed, he breathed heavily, puffing his wind in and out.
"Learn anything, boy?" Dav asked the winded teenager.
"Yeah... you two are fuckin' bastards!"
To that, neither backed down. At the mention of the comment, Dav took the mane of Jake's hair in his hands, snapping his head back.
"You listen and listen good, boy. The counselors of this camp command your respect. If you don't comply, you will receive worse punishment than you have just witnessed."
"Fuck you!" Jake replied, spitting at Dav.
The slimy gob landed on the toe of Dav's boot. Standing up, he placed the sole of his boot on the metal railing, which Jake's left wrist still maintained it's connectivity.
"Lick it off, boy!"
"Fuck you!"
"Suit yourself," Dav made reply. "C'mon, let's make sure the other's are staying on task."
They walked away, leaving Jake Klemmer cuffed to the metal pipe that resembled the frame of the bed, arms still pinned by his shirt, a bruise forming on his stomach where Zhoa had gut punched it.
"Hey, you can't leave me here! Hey you fuckers!"
Neither counselor paid Jake any mind, walking past him, heading for the jon at the back of the cabin.
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"We won! We Won! We Won!"
"I can't believe they won," Marat sneers.
"Yeah, we were so far ahead until that new kid missed the ball."
"I don't think he's too with it."
"Yeah. Cute, though."
Marat agreed to that aspect, which had nothing to do with his playing, but made for a great excuse to having the ball shot to the sand.
"Hey guys, great game!"
Rather then beat it into their heads that the Coyote's far out-matched the Buffalo lodgers, Chad Seivers reached out his hand.
"Yeah," Dougie responded, not sure he believed what he was hearing.
Dougie wasn't used to the cordiality of fair play, when it came to losing.
Marat acted more sportsmanship-like, accepting the hand.
"Hey, either you guys into... fuckin?"
Things began to look up for Dougie.
"What'd you have in mind," he asked Chad, grinning.
"Figured maybe you `Buffalo Buttplugs' might care to get even, if you know what I mean?"
His grin stretching wider, Dougie liked the idea immeditely.
"Hey guys, in the drink!" Nick called out after a few moments of breaking out the bottles of spring water.
"Not now," Chad suggested, saying, "later, after lights out."
"You got it."
"Um, how about you?"
Marat replied, "Sure. I'll fuck ya."
"Cool. Love getting fucked at both ends. Yeah, catch up with you guys later."
The two watched six foot, two inch tall blonde traisp off towards the shoreline.
"What do you think of that?"
"Hell, Dougie! I think we've got ourselves a fuck buddy for the summer!"
"Just what a versatile guy needs, eh?"
"Hey, I told you I didn't mind having your plank up my ass, but it sure feels awesome doing it, too!"
"I wonder if he's tight?"
Marat and Dougie, put their thumbs under the elastic of their logo gym shorts, stepping out of them as they walked. Seeing other's tossed on the bench, they added them to the pile, to be sorted later. It was trickier getting out of the jockstraps that stuck to their sweaty bodies, but no hassle when then got doused by a wave from one of the guys jumping off the dock, into the blue lake.
"I suppose you're going to pull first dibs on his ass, huh Dougie?"
Quicker than could meet the eye, Dougie smooched a kiss on Marat's cheek.
"Nah, I'll let you have first dibs tonight, being how good a sport you are."
"Oh? And how does that go?"
"Letting me plug your ass? I'd call that a good sport for a guy whom thought he could only fuck ass!"
Marat smiled.
"C'mon in guys!" Maclyn called out.
Dario seconded it, responding, "Water feels awesome!"
Marat dove in, making the perfect dive. However, Dougie moved contrary to the professional endeavor, slipping easily into the water. A short distance away, Nick and Yves stood, waist deep in the lake water. With Marat off on his own, checking out the below water level view, Dougie figured he'd drum up some light conversation.
"You work out, Nick?"
Yves stood there, taking handfuls of water, pouring them over his own shoulders.
"Thanks for the compliment, but I don't fraternize with the campers, if you know what I mean, Dougie?"
"Hey, it's not like I'm hitting on you, Nick. Only dealing out a compliment. Shit! Don't get so hyper?"
"Hyper is it?" Nick quickly reviewed Dougie's attitude. "Remind me to fill out a pink slip when we get back."
"Demerits?" Dougie knew what it entailed. "What'd I do?"
"I'd term it insuboordination."
Yves interpeted it for Dougie, replying, "Cursing out a counselor? Not too bright!"
"Oh, sorry."
"It doesn't erase the penalty, but I accept your apology, Dougie."
Fessing up to his blurted out profanity, Dougie relayed back, "Yeah okay. I deserve it."
"Good man," Nick commended Dougie, patting him on the shoulder.
Worse than an accidental electric shock, the hand touch jolted Dougie, sending the current right down his middle, into his ballsacs.
"Thanks," Dougie replied. "Hey, I better get this stink offa me. See you later guys."
With that, Dougie did a moderate dive, head first into the drink, bobbing up next to Marat.
"Did you feast your eyes?"
"On what?"
With hands on his hips, Marat stood there, up to his neck in water, startled.
"You're kidding me. All this hot below-the-waist flesh to look at and you kept your eyes closed?"
"I can't open my eyes underwater."
"We gotta get you a mask, Dougie!"
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Entering the Turtle Lodge's jon, right away the two counselors picked up the scent of piss.
"What the fuck's going on in here?"
"Oh man you're in deep shit now, Lutz!"
Too late for Bud Lutz, as Frank Kelly ratted the eighteen year old American youth out.
"It wasn't only me," Bud spread the guilty fame.
"Is that a fact?" Reinken approached.
"He's just as much to blame."
A shrug of his head, Bud lay the blame on Josh Spindel.
"Spindel, is it?"
"Um, yeah," the eighteen year old tough guy, sporting a buzz cut replied with an attitude.
"All of you, out in the yard," Reinken yelled. "Except you and you and you," he pointed out Bud Lutz, Josh Spindel and Frank Kelly.
"Me?" Frank spelled out, "but I didn't do anything fuckin' wrong!"
"Wanna bet, stoolie," Dav Khan through in, seeing Reinken's direction here."
"Just shut the fuck up and listen. I want you three to gather up all the toliet tissue and paper towels."
"What tha?" Bud questioned.
"Do it.. Now!" Dav instructed them.
In minutes, the three had presented Dav and Reinken with arms heaped with the rolls of toilet tissue and two large, brown rolls of paper towels.
Reinken then informed the three, "After you finish cleaning up this mess, you can join the others out in the yard."
Frank, looking bug-eyed, asks, "What're we supposed to fuckin' clean this up with?"
Dav, smiling, realizing the punishment Reinken is besetting on the three, replies, "You've got two hands... if that doesn't work, I suggest tongues?"
"Fuckin' gross!" Bud lets out.
The two counselors don't give leeway for discussion, turning and vacating the premises.
"See what you got us into, Frank?"
"Me? I'm not the one who had the piss battle with my cock!"
Of course, the two that did have the cock-fights, had doused each other with the yellow, rancid, foul-smelling piss, from the navel, down, which in turn splattered the white tiles.
"So, how are we supposed to clean this up?" Josh asked the two.
Being a bottom, down the totem pole, less aggressive than the other two, Josh got ganged up on.
"You're going to clean this mess up, starting with my crotch!"
"Fuck that! First of all, they took all the paper towels and toliet paper. What do I use?"
At least Bud sensed that Josh was willing to accept the responsibility for cleanup, even though he hadn't come out with it, outright.
Frank brilliantly deduced, "Like our counselor said," nudging the back of Josh's leg with his knee, caused the teenager's leg to collapse, his body almost falling to his knees.
"Hey, stop it! I'm `not' doing this, guys!"
His protests didn't carry much clout. In fact, the more Frank badgered him, the more agreeable he seemed to become, rather than taking the offensive.
"Hell yeah! You want my juicy, slimy pissed up crotch, don't you Joshua?"
"I.... I...."
"Yeah, I knew you were the type!"
"Hell, I don't believe it," Frank stood there and watched, as Josh knelt on his own volition.
With his tongue stuck out, the two eighteen year olds gazed upon the guy, a year older, lap at the wiry pubes.
"Oh fuck that feels damn hot!"
Coming over in front, to keep Josh's own body from blocking his view, Frank said, "Looks like we got ourselves a piss eating cock sucker!"
"A hot cocksucker, as it is," Bud complimented, taking the back of Josh's headed and forcing his 9c deeper into the nineteen year old's windpipe.
However, it wasn't semen that had given Frank an erection.
"Um, I think I gotta go."
Bud only smiled, releasing the back of Josh's head.
"Go ahead... use the fuckin' toliet!"
Not protesting, matter of factly, sitting up on his knees, his own arms behind his back, right hand gripping the left wrist, Bud noticed something cool about Josh.
"Looks like we got ourselves a summer slaveboy!"
Maybe Frank wasn't into this sort of thing, but it was fun to enjoy his first act of voyaging over, from the normal to the perverse. With his cock in between Josh's lips, he let loose the torrent of piss.
"Slow down, Frank," Bud instructed him.
"What do you know about this?"
"Believe me, I know. You go too fast and we'll wind up with a bigger mess on the floor than we've got here."
"If you say so."
With Bud coaching, he could see that he wasn't the only one into piss-play.
"Not the first time you've swallowed a load of piss, is it, boy?"
Bud now took on the role of Josh's master, one that he's played over a couple of times in high school and a few times this past semester, at college, with three different jocks.
With Frank finishing up, they are interrupted.
"Hey guys, Reinken and Dav want... Holy cow! What's going on here?"
Standing there, his hairy chest filled with sweat beads, mouth gaping open, nineteen year old Alf Moshammer is aghast with the goings on.
"Is Josh doing what I think he's doin?"
Bud asks, "Need to take a piss, Alf?"
"Un-uh. I'm not into that shit!"
"Y'know, Alf. When we first met, yesterday," Bud puts his hand on Alf's shoulder, getting friendly, "I figured you out to be a top. Now I'm not so sure."
Seeing where this is leading, Alf shrugs Bud's hand off of him. Running out, he yells, "They want you out there in ten minutes!"
"Finished?" Bud asks Frank.
"Yeah. Just squeezing the last few drops out."
"Well don't get any on the floor. Josh has got enough piss to clean up!"
With still the flange of his deflated shaft in Josh's mouth, Frank asks, astounded, "You mean he's going to lick all this up?"
"Wasn't that the original point of them removing the toliet paper and towels? Um, you're not going to do it and I'm fer sure not. Unless you want to um, Frank?"
"No fuckin' way."
It didn't take much cooercion for Bud to get Josh's shoulders bent to floor level and lick.
"That is so totally gross!" Frank commented.
Rubbing his belly, signifying the barfing he sensed, Frank coudn't get used to the idea of Josh's mouth being used like a wet-vac. With his lips on a puddle of piss, the two listened, watching the puddle `evaporate' before their eyes, as Josh made a slurping sound.
"Oooooohhhhhh gross!"
Frank couldn't get used to it. However, Bud reacted in an opposite manner, encouraging the nineteen year old freshman college jock.
"Yeah, get it all up. If my ass gets whipped because of your failure to suck up every inch of piss, there'll be hell to pay, Joshua!"
"Um, what do you mean by that, Bud?"
"Hee heee... bet he'll leave some yellow stains on the floor on purpose."
"Huh? Why would Josh want to do that, Bud? Didn't you just threaten him?"
Reaching down, between Josh's legs, from the rear, he yanked on the jock's balls. Instead of gasping out in pain, Josh arched his back, sighing in pleasure.
"Just as I figured."
"What is it, Bud?"
"Not only do we have a piss-sucking faggot, but a pain pig, as well. And I thought it was going to be another boring summer!"
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06 Continued....
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.
"The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!"
T. Chase McPhee... circa 2005