Date: Wed, 22 Mar 2006 19:31:56 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Buffalo Boys 06

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

%

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.

%

"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.

%

"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!"

%

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!"

%

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