Date: Tue, 10 Jul 2007 07:44:22 -0400 (EDT)
From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com>
Subject: Ten-year olds at Camp Pt 10

Copyright 2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without
the author's permission.

Please note: this story depicts oral and anal sex between male adults and
male minors. If this offends you or is illegal to publish in your
jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.

The 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.

-----

At the barbecue, Wes cooked supper next to Doc and little Jesse. But he
had to cook one-handed, for Petey had his other hand in a tight grip. At
least the kid was off his neck. But not for long. The campfire found
Petey once more clinging on his neck, while Wes held his bare bottom. Wes
wondered if he should suggest Petey not even put on his shorts tomorrow.
One of the men told a ghost story. Oh, God, a story about guys getting
killed. Petey didn't have to hear that. Later came Simple Simon. That was
better. Wes carried his boy back to the cabin, crooning,

I just want to tell you, Petey,
I think that you are neat!
I also want to tell you that
You made my day complete.
When we go to bed tonight,
I'll take you in my arms
And I will dream about you, Petey,
And all your many charms.

and Wes meant it. No bullshit.

They lay naked in bed facing each other, rather than spooning. Wes was
still holding Petey's ass. Petey's face was toward the other bed, where
Doc was gently opening little Jesse's magic hole. Petey spread his legs
open and pushed back on Wes's hand. Wes's mind was racing. Does he want
my finger? Does he want more than a finger?

The sun was barely up when Wes woke. Petey was sound asleep beside him.
He thought about the new day. He wondered if he'd eat breakfast with one
hand. He smiled. Suddenly he thought of the Buddy Swap. Shit. His words
to Petey the day before, while they lay on the pavement, now rang in his
ears, "I wouldn't trade you for any other boy in camp." How could he
force this boy to go off with another stranger? He carefully slipped out
of bed and tucked the sheet around Petey. He tapped Doc on the shoulder.
"Psst, Doc, we gotta talk."

Doc opened his eyes and looked at Wes. Then he carefully pulled his tired
cock out from between Jesse's tight buttocks so as not to wake him. "OK,
but I got to piss. Damn prostate. Wait outside. I'll be there in a
minute."

Wes stood on the porch. The cool morning air felt good on his naked body.
It was brisk. It invigorated him. Then he thought of Doc. Shit, he didn't
want the old guy to catch pneumonia. Just then, Doc came out wrapped in
Jesse's blanket. "You didn't fuck him, did you?" (It wasn't a question.
Doc said it the way his wife used to say, "You didn't remember our
anniversary, did you?"). Wes shook his head. "Didn't think so. He's not
ready. They should have told his grandmother to keep him home."

"Well, I don't know why, Doc, but I think this camp can do a lot for the
kid. He just needs more time. Look, Petey can't have another person he's
come to care about torn away from him. We have to do something about the
Buddy schedule." Doc agreed to take care of it.

Petey eventually woke up and immediately grabbed Wes's hand. They were
like Siamese Twins, conjoined at the wrist. They brushed their teeth
holding hands. They did their shitting holding hands. They showered
holding hands. They dressed holding hands. (Petey changed hands briefly
so they could put their shirts on.) They started down to the chow hall,
and Wes was relieved Petey wasn't hanging on his neck this time. As Wes
predicted, they ate holding hands, which made using a knife and fork
challenging.

After breakfast, everyone gathered in the field for the first Buddy Swap.
All around them, boys' eyes were tearing up and men were consoling them,
then moving on to new boys. Wes and Petey continued to hold hands. Cookie
took a boy nearby and headed for the dock. "You see Cookie over there? At
lunch today that boy with him will have a big candy in his mouth."

"Oh, yeah, what if he doesn't?"

Shit, thought Wes, now it's a wager. "OK, if he doesn't I'll wear a
shuttlecock on my cock all afternoon."

"You're silly."

"Yes, I know." Wes began to wonder what he was going to do with Petey all
morning, when Mike came by wearing his big tool belt.

"Sink's leaking in Cabin 5, but me and Mohammed here have to locate a
short in Cabin 2. Wes, can you do the plumbing?"

"Sure, Mike." At least now he had something to do with Petey. They
stopped by the workshed, where Wes put on his tool belt and grabbed the
two-foot Stillson wrench. Nothing made him feel more masculine than
walking around swinging a big tool.

"You won't need that if it's just the slip nuts." Wes stared at Petey.
Shit, the feller's a walking encyclopedia!

"Well, better to be prepared." They headed off to cabin 5. "Now, you
know, Petey. I'm gonna need both my hands to work on this."

"Yeah."

"You're not going to grab my thigh again, I hope. It's still a little
sore."

"No, something else."

"Like what?"

"Your cock." Shit, the feller knows how to strike a deal. Wes took off
his shorts and tool belt and crawled under the sink. He winced as Petey
reached between his legs and latched on to his dick and balls, but he
kept his mouth shut and went to work. It was a couple loose slip nuts,
after all. Smartass little boy.

Wes was happy once more to take Petey's hand. "You want to see a tree
house?"

"OK."

Wes led Petey into the woods. He was glad to see Barry hadn't already
claimed it. Petey said, "So how we gonna get up there?"

Wes smiled and pushed a button on a box mounted on the trunk. An electric
winch began lowering a ladder, like the attic stair he'd installed in his
parents' home. "I put this in last spring. Pretty nifty, don't you
think?"

"You know outdoors you gotta use a GFCI. I dont want to get zapped." Wes
assured him he did. They climbed the ladder and pushed another button to
raise it. They lay on floor and just stared at the roof. After a long
silence, Petey asked, "So, you wanta fuck me?"

"You want that?"

"No."

"OK." And then another long silence.

Then Petey asked, "You wanta BJ?"

"You want that?"

"No."

"OK." Yet another long silence. Wes's brain couldn't figure out what the
hell the kid was doing. He knew stuff way beyond his years. And he had a
stoic attitude that didn't belong on a ten-year old. He knew the only
thing to do now was be totally honest and hope the boy could somehow
detect the love he felt.

"You wanta stick your finger up my ass?"

"You want that?"

"Yes."

"OK." Wes did what the boy asked and waited for a reaction. No moaning.
No "Wow!" He just lay there quietly. After a few minutes, Wes asked, "Was
that OK?"

"Yeah." They climbed down and went to lunch holding hands.
Cookie's boy was sucking on a big candy. "OK, I'll wear the shuttlecock."

"No, Petey, that wasn't part of our deal. You don't have..."

"Shit, Wes, I don't welsh on my bets, OK? I'll wear the fucking
shuttlecock."

"Well, OK, but only until swim time." After lunch, Wes showed Petey more
of the camp and thought he took a strange pride in his penis ornament,
which everyone definitely noticed, especially Harry and Jerry when they
passed by.

Wes and Petey got into their speedos and walked hand in hand to the lake.
As they stepped on the sand, the boy let go. "Race you to the float!" He
was off like a shot, dove in, and swam freestyle.

Wes caught up with him. "You can swim!"

"Yeah."

"But yesterday."

"Didn't feel like swimming. Felt like hanging." Wes shook his head.

They were hand in hand again for the barbecue. Every so often Petey would
make some expert remark about the coals, or the heat, or the meat.
Jesse's Big Buddy Ken looked at Wes and they both shrugged. They were
still hand in hand at the campfire, watching the puppet show with the
anatomically endowed hand puppets. Petey mumbled through the singing and
everyone headed off to bed.

"You can stick your finger in my ass again if you want."

"OK, Petey, thanks."

On Monday, there were more fixit chores. The boys in Cabin #1 had heard
mice in the ceiling, so Wes and Petey went searching for holes to seal
off. None of the repairs were particularly urgent, but it gave Wes
something to do with the kid. Petey was letting go of his hand more
frequently so Wes asked if he wanted to ride a horse. "OK." At the
corral, when Tex explained that the horses were Palaminos, Petey began
drilling him on his knowledge of Balearics and Andalusians.

After lunch, Wes and Petey were just sitting in the field talking about
Petey's encyclopedic knowledge, but there were long silent pauses.
Suddenly, Petey changed the subject. "In the tree house, how come you
didn't fuck me?"

"You said "No."

"And last night in bed?"

"Petey, I would never fuck you unless that's what you want."

Petey began to let loose a torrent of verbiage unlike all the mimimal
utterances Wes had heard up 'til then: "Yeah yeah sure. You oughta turn
in your pedo card then. You guys are all alike. All you wanta do is get
your pervy cock in some little kid. You're just like Mr. Riley." Petey
stood up. His voice was getting louder. "You're all alike! You just want
to screw kids! You dont care if they shout No! That just turns you on
more! You like 'em to say No! You get your jollies that way! You got a
whole camp of little boys who don't know no better. Why don't you screw
one of them? Why do you gotta rape me? I hate you!" Men and boys turned
and stared at the commotion. "I hate you all!" Petey went running. Wes
followed but lost him. He hadn't headed toward the cabins, and Wes had a
feeling where he might be. He found the boy, lying on the pavement behind
the van, blubbering, his body convulsing uncontrollably. Wes lay down on
the pavement beside him and gently touched his arm.

"No one here is going to force you to do nothing, and you're smart enough
to know that." Petey turned toward Wes, sobbing hysterically. This was
the first emotion the boy had displayed about anything since his arrival.
"Now, then, what the hell was that all about? Come on, Feller. No
bullshit."

They sat up. Petey put his arms around Wes's neck again. "Hold my ass.
please."

"First off, who is Mr. Riley?"

Between snivels and whimpers, Petey began recounting the story. It took a
while for Wes to put together the disjointed details, but the more he
learned, the closer he hugged this poor child. When Petey was six, and
his brother Arnie was seven, they were playing hide-and-seek in the park
near their home. Petey sat on the swing with his eyes shut counting. When
he got to 100, he went looking for his brother. He checked all the usual
hiding places, but didn't find him. He shouted his name and went looking
further. No Arnie. He kept looking. Then he saw a car at the end of the
parking lot. He figured Arnie was hiding there. That wouldn't be fair and
their parents wouldn't like it, but it would be a cool hiding place.
Petey slowly tiptoed toward the vehicle. Then he heard his brother's
voice inside, saying, "No. No. No. Stop. Stop. You're hurting me." He
also heard a man's voice saying, "Yeah you like it rough, don't you?"
Petey was afraid and hid in the bushes. After a long! time, the man
dumped Arnie out and sped away. The brothers ran home, and their mother
took Arnie to the hospital. Later a nice policelady came and sat with the
boys and asked questions. But she was getting nowhere. Arnie couldn't
describe the man. He was already blocking it out. He wanted to just
forget it ever happened. The policelady asked Petey if he saw the man but
he hadn't. She gave up and was about to leave, when Petey said,
"license." What? Little Petey always liked numbers. They were fun to play
with. He had memorized the license plate. The police soon arrested Mr.
Riley. The DA didn't want to make Arnie testify in court, and tried to
plea bargain. But Riley insisted on a trial. Like, he had to rape Arnie
all over again. Riley as the defendent didn't have to take the stand. But
the policelady and both boys did. (Wes was wondering who had done a
background check for the camp; why was a kid who'd been in a child
molestation trial brought to camp at all?) As the boys! gave their
testimony, Riley stared right at them. He was sentenced to the maximum,
but on the way out of the courtroom, he looked at Arnie and said, "You're
gonna die."

"And he did die, Wes!! Arnie died!! I shoulda yelled for help! I shoulda
slashed Riley's tires! I shoulda counted faster then Arnie wouldn't have
gotten taken! I shoulda run instead of tiptoe!" Petey had replayed the
whole event in his mind a thousand times, and imagined a thousand ways a
tiny boy could have prevented the assault. "And I shoulda not been in my
carseat. Then I'd be dead too!"

Wes's shirt was sopped in little boy tears. "Petey. Petey. Petey. It
wasn't your fault your brother got raped. Riley was a bad bad man. I hate
men who do stuff like that to little kids. And the car accident wasn't
your fault either. It had nothing to do with Riley either. He doesn't
have that kind of power. He has no power at all. He's a loser. I hope he
rots in jail."

"But you like to fuck little boys too."

"No, Petey. Not like that. I love little boys. And I like to show boys
how much I love them. I would never force a boy to have sex. No man here
would ever do that. That's not love. That's hate. Think about it, Petey.
Think about the boys here. Are they smiling? Are they laughing? Do you
think anyone is hurting them?"

"I'm sorry."

-----

Wow. Wes was sure surprised when he learned Petey's story. What's he
going to do now?

Every Nifty author loves to get mail from his readers. Please write and
tell me how you like this story.
Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.