Date: Thu, 22 Dec 2005 21:08:44 -0500
From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com>
Subject: Transformation pt 4

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.