Copyright 2005 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
Please note: the twelve parts of this story depict sex between males, between minors and between adults and minors. They depict oral, anal and vaginal sex as well as incest, rape, sadomasochism and transvestitism. If any of these offend you or are illegal to publish in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.
All names, characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
Late Summer, Year 1
The last two weeks of August, every summer, even before we were born, Mom and Dad took a vacation at this camp in the mountains. It was called a sporting camp, and Dad spent the whole day every day out on the lake with the other dads, fishing. It was known as a safe place for kids, so Mom always let us go on our own and spent her days sitting on a chaise by the dock kibitzing with the other mothers, or going to one of the cabins to play mah jong.
The same families always signed up for the same two weeks, so over the years we got to know them real well. There were the Millers. They had three kids: Charlotte was two years younger than me, but my height; her sister Amy would be going into second grade; and Benjamin, the only boy, wasn't even in school yet. Mom and Dad liked the Millers a lot, but we didn't. We hung out with the Bernhoffs. James was a year older than Keith and just as bossy. He loved to order his younger brothers around. They were Billy, who was Keith's age but small and unathletic, like me; and little Tommy who was a year and a half younger than James. We five boys spent our days each August swimming in the lake, taking hikes in the woods, taking a boat over to the island where we'd go skinny dipping, and otherwise looking for mischief to get into. I was by far the oldest in our gang, but Keith was the leader. I liked going to the lake. Of course, the Bernhof boys followed Keith's lead and called me Fran-sess, but it was still a fun way to end the summer.
But the year after sixth grade, Keith was very resistant to going to the lake. "There are just little kids there!" What he meant was there were no pubescent girls. At least not any he would consider worthy enough for his circle. At the lake there was no circle.
But Dad was insistent about going. "We've been going there for almost twenty years and we're not going to stop now. You're only twelve, young man," (Keith's birthday was in August) "and you're still a member of this family." So here I was, once again, packed in the back seat between my little brother and the ice chest heading for the lake. I knew this year was going to be different somehow `cause now I was his bitch.
That was proven the first day. It was too cloudy and chilly to jump in the lake, so we went over to the Bernhoffs' cabin and Keith suggested a hike. It would only be a couple hours, but we each brought a backpack like we were climbing the Matterhorn: mostly snacks and water bottles, but Keith brought along rope, a blanket, and his swiss army knife. As soon as we left the cabin area, Keith told everyone to hand their backpacks to me. He told them I was his bitch and from now on they were to call me that too. I was seething. These were guys I knew for years, and now within hours my brother was humiliating me in front of them. He also told them not to tell their parents though. So we started up the trail, me loaded down like a pack ass with five backpacks. The Bernhoffs lost no time in using my new name, even little Tommy would laugh and say, "Come on bitch, keep moving."
We got to the clearing, a place where we usually stopped to eat and look for deer and wild turkeys and talk about who was fucking girls yet. This time, when we got there, Keith told me to strip and put all my clothes in my backpack. Of course I did it. The Bernhoffs couldn't believe I didn't just run back to the cabin. No, I stood there in front of them in the mountain chill and took off my jacket, my shirt, my shoes and socks, and then let down my jeans. I had goosebumps all over. I knew I had to take off my briefs, and I knew what they'd say when I did. "Why the fuck are you wearing that jock, bitch?" "Looks awful tight, don't it hurt?"
"My bitch has to wear it. My orders. His puny little cock is an embarrassment to all mankind. He's not allowed to let it out to play. Ain't that right, bitch?"
"Yes, Boss." The Bernhoffs nearly died laughing as they walked around me staring at my jock-framed ass and flattened package.
Keith ordered me to feed everyone, so while they sat on the blanket like kings, I served them their twinkies and pringles and oatmeal cookies and bottled water. "Ain't the bitch going to eat nothing?" asked Tommy.
"He can't eat like us real men. Here, show them how you eat, bitch." Keith threw some pretzels on the ground and I bent down and ate them like a dog, no hands, just eating them off the dirt where some raccoon had probably peed. My naked white ass was up in the air and Keith swatted it and said, "Good little bitch." Again the Bernhoffs laughed as they threw stuff on the dirt for me to eat. Keith stood up and announced, "Now I think it's time for your dessert, bitch." I looked up at Keith, my eyes pleading for mercy, but it was useless. There in front of my former friends, Keith opened his zipper, pulled out his big shlong and poked it into my hungry mouth. I don't know if James had ever had a real blow job, even though he bragged about them, but this was probably the first time Billy ever witnessed one, and as for Tommy, his mouth was hanging open in amazement. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. They started chanting, "cocksucker, cocksucker," as I demonstrated my skills. Keith fucked my face hard and deep but when he was ready to cum, he pulled out and covered my face in his manmilk, so everyone could see how prolific he was.
"Thank you, Boss," I mumbled, but everybody heard it and went back to laughing. Keith had me pack up the blankets and the leftover food. In other years, we always left our empty wrappers on the ground, but this time Keith's naked toady dutifully and silently cleaned up the whole area, so there was no sign that anyone had been there. The Bernhoffs loved the show. Then Keith ordered me to get the rope. We went over to the oak tree where we had carved our names in other years. I had to sit on the ground with my bare ass against the base of the tree. Keith directed Billy and Tommy to tie my chest to the trunk. When he was sure I was secure, he had James tie a length of rope to one of my wrists, climb up to the first limb, swing the rope over it and then tie the other end to my other wrist. The rope was tied taut enough that both my arms were pulled over my head. Finally, the Bernhoffs bound my legs together.
Keith checked all the ropes and then said, "OK, he won't bother us now. Let's go on our hike, boys."
Tommy piped up, "Just leave him here?" And the others all said, "Yeah, leave the bitch."
"Now remember," Keith admonished them, "what our parents always say before we take off on a trip. Everyone be sure to use the bathroom." The Birnhoffs then followed Keith's lead and all four of them pissed away on my cumcovered face, and delighted to see my automatic reflex, opening my mouth.
They were probably gone a half hour. I was shivering. I was scared. The mosquitoes were biting me. Ants were crawling on my legs. I was wet because I had peed in my jock. I thought I heard voices, maybe hunters out looking for deer, or maybe girls on a hike, but no one ever came into the clearing.
Eventually the four returned, Tommy skipping ahead. They sat down on the grass and talked about the neat things they supposedly had seen, purposely ignoring me. I knew they were lying about the moose and the bear and especially the naked mountain girls. After maybe ten minutes, Keith looked at his empty wrist and said, "Well, it's almost time for supper. Let's go back to the dining hall." They got up and started walking away. I couldn't help myself. I started whimpering and crying. Then the Birnhoffs laughed and came back and untied me.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Keith said, returning to the oak tree. He found where he had written his name, and then he pointed to the names "James," "Billy," and "Tommy." Finally he pointed to where I had proudly carved "Frank" about three years before. "Now, we can't leave this here, can we?" The other boys weren't sure what to say. The tree was almost sacred. The ritual of carving your name was always played out with great ceremony. Keith handed me the knife. "Get busy, bitch." With my eyes welling with tears, I took the knife and scratched out my own name, never to be seen again. That person was dead now. Then I carefully began carving, "b," "i," "t," "c," and "h." My new identity, my true identity. Meekly, I handed Keith the knife. The Birnhoffs were speechless.
I followed them, again carrying all the gear, but walking bareassed and barefoot behind them. Billy and Tommy began loudly singing, "I love to go awandering," but it was the bitch who had all the knapsacks on his back. About a hundred yards from the camp, we stopped and Keith ordered me to put on my clothes. They each took their own backpack and appeared for all the world to see like we were returning from a normal hike. Mom took one look at my face and asked how I got so dirty. "Yeah, I told him to try to stay clean, Mom, but the kid just seems to attract filth." I ran into my room, got my bathing suit on and ran to the lake. It was freezing cold, but it felt good to get my head under water and wash away the dried cum, the dried piss and the dried tears, as well as all the dirt on my ass.
The days seemed to drag for me that summer. Each day there was a new humiliation for me. Thankfully, a warm front came in and we spent long hours in the lake swimming. The day we took the boat and rowed to the island, I did all the rowing, while they sat and sunned themselves. At the island, we shed our suits. Keith took off his jock and handed it to Tommy, "Hang this on the jock tree." Tommy looked puzzled, but then caught on, he came over and draped it over my ears. James and Billy followed suit and put their smelly jocks on my head in various ways. Tommy said, "Gee, I wish I had a jock to hang on the tree." Then he put his tiny little swimsuit on my head.
We spent about an hour skinny dipping. I had to keep their jocks (and Tommy's suit) on my head, so I couldn't splash around too much, but at least I could stand in the water and watch their naked cavorting. Back on the island, Keith showed them how his bitch could suck, even with jocks draped over his face. This time, when he cummed, I had to swallow it. James yelled, "Can I try it?" Keith nodded and I started sucking James's cock. I decided it probably was James's first bj. He came real fast. Billy was next, and it was definitely his first time. He moaned so loud, I think they probably heard in back at camp and thought it was a loon.
Keith turned to Tommy, "OK, your turn."
"Really?" I wasn't even sure Tommy was old enough for wet dreams. He did masturbate a lot but hell, all little boys do that. Tommy stood in front of me and held out his little wiener. I began licking his dickhead and it stiffened quickly. I opened my mouth and Tommy stuck it inside. I sucked and sucked, as hard as I could. Tommy grunted and groaned and pushed his tiny dick in deeper like that might turn things on. Suddenly I tasted something wet, but it wasn't cum. Tommy was pissing in my mouth. As I swallowed it, the other three saw my adam's apple bobbing, assumed it was cum and cheered. They gave Tommy a big high five and treated him like a great macho athlete, mature beyond his years, a wunderkind. For all he knew, Tommy probably thought he actually had cummed in my mouth. We got our jocks and suits back on and I rowed back to the camp.
At least Keith didn't make me demonstrate that day what else I could do. When we went to bed the first night we got to the lake, the same day I had carved my new name into the oak, Keith whispered to me, "Now, look, I ain't no homo fag like you, bitch. But here at the lake there are no cunts, you know that. And I gotta get myself laid one way or another, so while we're here bitch, your ass is my pussy. Tonight I make you my cunt-quest." And he did. Warning me not to make a noise with Mom and Dad in the next room, he spread KY all over my asshole. Then he used a lubricated condom and fucked me doggy style. I gritted my teeth and scrunched my face but didn't make a peep as my virgin asshole was violated, my cherry plucked. And every night the same scene was repeated. I was truly my little brother's bitch in every sense of the word.
Our last full day at the cabin was hot and all us kids were in our bathing suits. This was Dad's last chance to hook the big one, so he was out early. Mom was busy packing stuff. Keith and the Birnhoffs were wondering what mischief they could get into their last day, and I knew somehow it would involve a further humiliation of the bitch. As we walked past the Millers' cabin, we saw them getting into their car. "You leaving early, Mr. Miller," Tommy asked.
"No, we're going to drive up to see the waterfall. We'll be back for lunch. It's really beautiful there. You should tell your parents to take you some year." We waved and after they drove off, Keith spotted it hanging on the Millers' clothesline. He ordered me to get Charlotte's onepiece off the line. Nervously, I did as he told me. We ran down to the lake at the far end of the camp beach, and Keith taught the other boys how to form a wall. I had to get out of my own suit and put on Charlotte's. It fit perfectly. She was my height, flatchested and of course, my tiny jockbound package made no dent in her crotch.
"C'mon, everyone in the water." I dove in as fast as I could and tried to stay under the water, but Tommy had brought along a ball for monkey-in-the-middle, and every time the ball went up on the beach, it was me who was ordered to run up and get it. Their aim seemed especially bad that day for the ball was always going up on the beach. The bitch, now appropriately attired, ran repeatedly in and out of the water. Suddenly, Tommy said, "Look." We all looked at the road beside the lake where he was pointing. The Millers' car was coming back. I raced out of the water, stripped and put on my own suit and ran up to the cabins. I got Charlotte's suit back on the line just before the Millers drove `round the corner. At lunch, Mom said she could see Keith playing in the water with the boys, while she was tidying up the cabin. She said he was real nice to let Charlotte play with them this time.