From: FCPHAW@news.delphi.com (FCPHAW@DELPHI.COM)
Subject: FCP: Playing Doctor at Camp  (boy/boy)
Date: 6 Aug 1995 10:13:35 -0400

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

Fan Cha Phaw

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