W A R N I N G
The following story contains adult sexual material. If you are under the legal age to read these materials, exit this file now.
FAN CHA PHAW PRESENTS:
"PLAYING DOCTOR AT CAMP"
The following story contains scenes of sex, and sexual situations between minor boys. If this, or homosexual sex offends you, exit now and do not continue reading.
If you are under the legal age to read adult sexual stories, exit this file now.
This material was submitted anonymously. It will be appearing in the sexual history zine, Young, Hung, & Promiscuous, a Fan Cha Phaw presentation. This zine is dedicated to the true-to-life sexual adventures of boy- lovers in their childhood's.
Ishmael Wilkins Fan Cha Phaw
PLAYING DOCTOR AT CAMP COCK PART ONE
When I was about thirteen I did a voluntary stint as a camp counselor at Camp Cock. Of course that was not the real name of the place, but it was named so by generation after generations of boys that passed through the gates.
As you can guess, it was an all boy's camp, and residential to boot. Each summer for two weeks, boys from the ages of seven to thirteen would attend as campers. Since those were the days before heavy regulation, the counselors were often only a few years older than the campers. Everyone was overseen by a small staff of adults.
How boys were assigned to cabins were that they grouped together by friends and relatives, hopefully ending up with enough bodies to fill the cabin which they had in mind. While the campers were off trying to make sure that they had the right number to get the cabin they wanted, the counselors were off checking on their progress for their own reasons.
Counselors were very much a part of Camp Cock, and they were making sure that just the right boys were formed into just the right group which would fit their cabin. Once their sights were upon a particular grouping of boys, they would be off to try to influence the staff members decision about where they would be placed.
Needless to say, the most popular grouping for counselors were the strapping ten to twelve year olds, especially when they formed into mouth watering combinations of beauty and bodies. The younger boys need not worry, however, because there were always a few counselors who would be pleading to get them into their cabins as well.
Only the totally naive, over weight, and down right homely were not fawned over during this selection process. Boys who had spent time at Camp Cock before, and who had been educated while there, knew the story, and were quick to get their way.
The new, uneducated boys, unless they were of exceptional beauty or body would be grouped into cabins with new and uneducated counselors. A boy need not worry, however, because if he began to show promise as the days went by, he could easily obtain a transfer to another, more fun, cabin.
Once cabins were assigned, and the boys were settled, the same ritual would occur each year. The counselor would have an introductory talk to the campers about the rules of the cabin and camp. Once a warning bell would sound, the campers would participate in the first camp ritual, swimming tests.
This test is important for any summer camp, because it easily sorts out which boys are good swimmers, which need lessons, and which need to be watched carefully around water. Since water safety is such an important part of camp life, the boys spending a large part of their day in the water, it is taken seriously at all camps.
For the counselor, the swim tests also afford him an opportunity right off the bat to admire his charges as they change into their swim wear. The boys are all required to wear only bathing suits, no underpants or anything under them, and so boys who arrive with suits on under their pants, are not spared this semi-public gazing of their young bodies.
In my case, it is re-acquaintance with a few bodies which I have not seen since the previous summer. I built, the previous summer, a loyal group of boys each session, who came to camp asking that I be their counselor. With them, of course, would be the new boys, friends and relatives, and so besides gazing at familiar flesh, I would be treated to new and interesting bodies.
Those who had been with me prior, or who had been "educated" at Camp Cock, would take their time before putting their suits on, letting anyone who wanted, especially the counselor, look at their naked bodies. The newer boys, who did not yet have an idea about what they were in for, would scurry as fast as they could, attempting to hide their genitals as they changed. If they dare grab a towel to wrap around them as they changed, they would be laughed out of the cabin.
While upwards to 250 boys splashed around in the water, trying to earn their water wings, I would sit on the shore taking in all of the beauty. Since I doubled as camp photographer, I had my camera clicking away at all times, capturing a dive here, a bulge there, a suit slipping down over there, and jewels falling our of leg bands over there.
All the while I was taking in all of the beauty of the new crowd, I was making eye contact with previous acquaintances, looking for a friendly signal. At the same time I would checkout all of the new talent, fawning over the stunning ones with photo after photo.
When one of my educated boys would approach, I would motion him over and inquire about one stunning lad or another. More often than other the boy would "know" the lad, and he would smile and promise that he would see what he could do. If my little information machine did not know the boy in question, he would set off in pursuit of all the vital information.
Usually by the end of the swim tests, I would have set up several appointments with "old timers," and would have arranged a few tentative sessions with the new heart throbs, of course in the company of an educated boy.
Back at the cabin another ritual would unfold, but one which was unique to my crew. After swimming the boys would shower off, and then return to the cabin. I would be there waiting for them. As they came in, they would line up, and one by one come over to me. Once in front of me they would strip off their bathing suit and hand it to me to be hung up outside. They then presented themselves for "inspection," so that I could be sure that they were clean.
It was a ritual which I would never tire of. Each day, several inches away from my face, would stand each boy as they presented their naked bodies for inspection. No boy ever failed this inspection, however, some of them, especially the newer ones, required longer inspection than others. No touching took place, just a visual appraisal as the boys twisted and turned upon command.
Usually this inspection was all that it took for the educated boys to pop a boner. They knew the purpose of the inspection. They knew that it was so that I could enjoy their naked bodies, not because I was such a cleanliness freak.
The new boys would then go off to explore the new camp, and to make friends, and the old hands would go off to get up to what ever they might have had in mind, or made appointments for. It would be during this time that I would head off to the woods to keep my appointments.
By the time that the dinner bell sounded, the hall would be filled with the entire collection of boys once again, many of them looking well sucked and fucked. I would master over the table of my cabin, as would each counselor, however, I would also roam around the dinning area to make sure that peace was maintained. Walking by a few tables I would smile and wink at a few boys, knowing first hand how well sucked and fucked that had been.
After dinner, the boys would wander off and pretty much hang around. A few activities were organized for the evening, but not many. It was just a time to relax. If things were cool, I would organize one of the favorite past times of mine, strip tag ball. All the boys who were interested would show up, and one of the old hands would explain the rules. I would sit there as if board, letting the kids think that it was the other kids who made up the game.
The kids would line up at one end of the ring, and two boys would toss the rolled up collection of past lost socks into the crowd. If a boy were hit, he did not have to sit down like in normal tag ball. He was required to take off one piece of clothing and put it into his pile on the side lines.
PLAYING DOCTOR AT CAMP COCK PART TWO
The kids who had played this game in the past were at a definite advantage, because they came dressed like it was the middle of the winter. The new kids, not knowing better, came to the ring next t naked.
The rules were that a kid could continue to play until he was totally naked. Once that occurred, he had to go to the sidelines and sit down. He would not get dressed, however, because once the last boy wearing any clothes was announced the winner, a new game would be played, only in reverse. All the boys would start out naked and when they got tagged, they would have to put on an article of clothing.
The reverse game was a later development. At first boys would argue heatedly that they had not been hit when they had to remove clothing, especially if they were close to naked. One boy, who was particularly perverted, suggested that if the game started off naked, and clothing were put on instead of taking it off, we could all get to see more skin.
Knowing the boy's reputation, and knowing firsthand his charms, I wrote it off to his being horny again, but I agreed that it would be fun. After one game, as I glanced around at all of the naked kids on the sidelines, some on the verge of getting it on with themselves or others right there in public, it hit me. The reverse game.
The idea was a success, and it provided for much more visual enjoyment. Now instead of boys arguing about taking off clothes, they began to argue that they had not been hit to stay naked. The only time that a boy would want to get hit during a reverse game was when all of the skin, and rubbing up against the other boys got too much and they started getting a boner. Those who could not handle this would get tagged on purpose so that they could get their underpants on to, kind of, hide their excitement.
Another favorite evening past time was Camp Cock's own Capture the Fag, a take off on capture the flag, a game in which two teams, shirts and skins, would hide their flag, and the other team would have to capture it without being taken prisoner in the process. The way which a team member would be taken prisoner was that a member of the opposing team would have to tag him, and then the prisoner would be taken to a prearranged jail site. Jail breaks could occur if a prisoner's team mates could get close enough to tag them, and then they could go free.
As could be expected, the boys of Camp Cock made minor changes to the rules of the game. First the tag was defined as any tag on a boy's butt. Next change was that prisoner's did not always have to be taken straight to jail. Some could be questioned in the field, trying to ascertain where the fag was hidden.
Oh yes, about the flag. The lads at Camp Cock changed it to a "Fag." On each side the boys would pick out their fag, usually one of the little kids. He would be stripped off, shown to the other team, and then rushed off into the woods to be hid somewhere. The fag would usually be guarded by one or more boys who would entertain him while the game went on.
The boys who decided to question a prisoner on their own would take him somewhere off the beaten path and "tie him up." No binds were used, but the rules were that if the jailer said you were tied, you were tied. The questioning would then begin.
If a boy would not reveal his team's secret, he was "tortured" until he would. This torture could take on various forms, but usually it consisted of being jacked off, rubbed off on, sucked, made to suck, and in extreme cases, fucked. No prisoners, however, ever complained of mistreatment. They all expected the torture. If a prisoner was adverse to any particular torture, he would make this known, and those activities would not take place.
Sometimes two or more boys on a team would gang up to go out spying to find the fag. While crouched in some remote area, waiting for enemies to pass by, they would, like wise, entertain each other.
While many combatants found themselves distracted with capturing and torturing prisoners, and others found themselves busy with entertaining team members, some were actively playing the game, off looking for the fag. For the winner if the game, the boy who found the fag, and brought him back to his camp, came the spoils of war. He was allowed to satisfy himself on top of the fag after the others had left.
Since many, if not most, of the fags were younger brothers, relatives, or neighbors of the older boys on a team, they tried to keep their fags safe so as they not have their bottom parted by the enemy. Strangely enough, only a few fags failed to perform their final duties once the game was concluded.
By now one would suspect that Camp Cock was an open Sodom and Gomorra, but that it not really the case. When games of nude tag ball or capture the fag were played, several boys were assigned as security. They would be placed in key positions with whistles around their necks. If anyone representing trouble or authority came near, whistles would be blown and everything would change into the normal, boring games.
The guards for tag ball were rewarded with well deserved blow jobs by obliging counselors after the games were over, and guards for capture the fag were rewarded with their pick of lad for a romp off in the woods after the game. All in all, everyone was happy. If a boy was not interested in the sex adventures of capture the fag, he could still play, but he would warn off any would be questioners or admirers. Also interesting, every boy, save a few who could not help themselves, and who were berated afterwards by their peers, would respect a boy's wishes not to be sexed.
Once the sun set, there could be a camping fire, a movie, or some other form of entertainment, such as a play or other stage show. If no "real" adults were present, the camping fire would be just that, and kids would strut their stuff around, the ending being that the boys would try to extinguish the fire with urine, or in those able, cum.
A movie at Camp Cock was the ideal location to neck, trade hands, give somewhat unseen blow jobs, or sweeten up someone who had captured your heart. Horny young boys alone at a movie is a sight to be seen, for sure. I spent many of nights running the movies, myself trying to sweeten up a boy I had the hots for, or in order to give a few casual caresses or a quick blow job.
The rowdiest stage show I saw while at Camp Cock was one which took place after the regular talent night. Before an audience of about twenty boys, behind tightly locked doors, a dance line of naked boys performed, a tiny lad performed his first deep throat of a "shooter," and one talented lad showed the crowd how he could suck himself.
The night's entertainment being officially over, everyone was off to their cabins. The campers, like good little boys, dutifully went to bed, and counselors hung around for the required half hour. Once the camp was quiet the counselors were off to their own devices. Sometimes they had the night off and could leave the camp, and other nights they would hang around and do whatever, or whoever they had in mind.
Watching the true boy-loving counselors was comical. They would leave their cabins, hang out for a while, and then take off and either return to their cabin to pick up one of their campers, or go off to another cabin to pick up a boy with whom they had made arrangements. Off across the sports field would go counselors and campers, the older carrying a blanket and anything else which would be needed for the occasion.
The unspoken agreement was that once on the sports field, no one would interrupt another couple, and this usually held true, with the exception of various orgies which would take place when blankets were combined.
PLAYING DOCTOR AT CAMP COCK PART THREE
If one were to walk around the field, unawares of what was going on, he would get the shock of his life, as every imaginable act would be performed there nightly by beautifully naked boys. How this never got busted was beyond me, but I assume that since Camp Cock had its reputation for so long, the adults knew when not to be around.
As soon as things settled down and the adults were off during their own thing, which sometimes, by the way, included campers or counselors, and the counselors were off doing theirs, the kids were left to their own devices as well.
Normally the kids jumped in and out of beds of cabin mates, until they were finally too exhausted to move, and would crash out on top of, or along side of their equally naked friend. Others would go off to another cabin to partake in campers there. No boy, unless he were very disliked, would be refused admittance to another cabin or camper's bed.
There were also a crew of boys in each session who enjoyed a little more adventure to their night times. For the hopelessly straight boys, they would head off to the areas surrounding the camp in search for girls. In many cases, according to reports and spying, many of them got lucky.
Other boys were into watching. They would prowl around to different cabins and peek inside to watch sleeping or fucking boys. If they did not become too much of a pain, they were also allowed onto the sports field. They would move around until they found a couple they would like, and they would sit there watching at a short distance, pounding their little dicks furiously.
There were also the tearoom boys, who would hang around the bathroom all hours of the night waiting for boys to come down to use the facilities or more. They would proposition the kid, and more than often the kid who came down to relieve himself would go back to bed freshly blown.
And, of course, what scene would be complete without the little hustlers. Just like in real life, Camp Cock had their share of the professional boys. Usually they would be poor kids who figured that the way to get what they wanted from the camp store, or to get things they wanted, would be to sell what others around them were freely giving away.
For a quarters worth of candy or ice cream the next day, the boy would suck you dry if you were able to shoot, or would suck you silly if you were a wiggler ... Camp Cock's term for a prepube boy. If you were more interested in anal delights, either giving or receiving, the lads could be sure to come to an understanding.
As time went on, more and more poorer and unpopular boys were plying the financial route. At the end of each session, I would shudder when I thought of how much money I spent on candy and ice cream that I never ate. The hours of blissful feelings of lips wrapped around my cock, cum pouring down the throats, or up the backsides of these talented lads, however, well made up for the dent in my finances.
Camp Cock had one special attraction for me, which pleased me more than anything else during the summer. While the infirmary was staffed with professional help during the day, at night, outside of emergencies, it was closed.
Having never got enough of playing doctor as a boy, I volunteered to kind of run the infirmary at night. After the medicines were passed out to those who had to take them, the adults left, and the place was all mine. I let the word out that I would be there, or that a boy could come to my cabin if he needed, and I would take him there.
One small pleasure to me, and pain in the ass for anyone else in the camp, was that each session there were more than a few boys away from home who became homesick. During the day they were almost constant visitors at the infirmary, bringing imaginary illnesses or injuries to the nurse. The nurse would soon recognize a home sick boy, and she would mother and reassure him as much as possible.
Soon after I opened my late night practice, I began to get some of the home sick boys. They would be brought in by counselors ready to pull their hair out, or they would come in on their own, usually with a complaint of a stomach ache.
When I identified a definite home sicker, I would be delighted, because they would let me play doctor to my heart's content. In order to get the attention which they were seeking, they would become the perfect patients. Of course, other boys, with whom I had played doctors with many times in the past would come by for a quick romp, but I tried to focus my attention to the ones who were new.
When the complaint was that the boy had a stomach ache. I would have him take his shirt off and lay on one of the beds. I would place my ear on his stomach, all the while enjoying the feeling of his skin. I would let my hand wander, caressing his tummy. If he did not bolt out the door, the night would be fun.
Once I was sure that he would be my obedient patient, I would lift up the front of his pants or shorts, if it could be lifted, and I would gaze down at his treasures, telling him that I was taking the pressure off his tummy.
If that did not set him off, I was in. I would tell him that I would examine him, and out would come the scope and I would put it on his tummy to listen. I would listen to his lungs and heart for a while, for the hell of it, and would then move the scope down to his pube area and listen. If the boy were still with me, it would soon find its way down to his penis and then testicles. I am not sure how many of them, if any, thought that it was real medicine, but none complained.
Telling my patient that what he needed was a rubdown to help stop the belly ache, I would tell him to take the rest of his clothing off. A few boys had remarkable recovery at this point, but most did not. Being the obeying little guys they were, they stripped out of their pants and laid before me naked.
After taken in their naked bodies for a few minutes, I would begin my massage, usually at their neck, slowly working my way down. I would spend a considerably amount of time on their bellies before moving down further. In a few cases I was stopped as my hands went from pubes to base of penis, but all but one accepted my answer that it would help to make them feel better.
After rubbing them to a hard-on, I would gently masturbate them, while massaging their little balls with my other hand. I should say that on a few occasions the dicks and balls I was rubbing were not so little. Home sick boys came in all ages and sizes.
Once I had them bucking in time with my jacking hand, I figured the rest would be easy. I would get up and shut off the lights, making sure that the door was locked. Sliding down beside them on the bed, I would tell them to close their eyes and relax and that this would make them feel better.
END PART THREE
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