Date: Tue, 10 Apr 2007 10:04:52 +0200
From: Peter AM <KanoPeer@checkjemail.nl>
Subject: Camp Blue Otter 05

As it turned out, Sam and me really didn't have a lot of common interests.
He had signed up for all the sports, like soccer and wrestling.  Myself, I
was more into the artsie stuff.  Sam dozed off while I was talking about
it, that's how much it interested him.  Myself I had a bladder about to
burst, I could not relieve it with Sam or anyone else nearby.  So I slipped
out of the tent on my own, walked the ten feet or so to the perimeter of
the woods, and relieved myself on the other side of a big tree.

Chapter 05: Off to a Rocky Start

Caught without a buddy

While shaking off the last few drops I was wondering whether I would have
time to sneak off to the picnic basket for a quick dump, but then I heard
the banging on the cauldron.  The infinite relieve of an emptied bladder
gave way to a rush of fear.  By now everybody knew the rule about not
entering the woods without a buddy and so I rushed back to my tent.

Sure enough Matthew caught me.  Before I got the chance to slip in he
stopped me with a big "Hello there, what were YOU up to?"

"Just had to take a leak real bad" I answered honestly, and wanted to get
back in the tent to change from Speedos to regular shorts.

"Wait here a minute" said Matthew, and walked over to Glen at the cauldron.

Glen walked over and asked me "Where's your BUDDY?"

"In the tent I guess, he was still sleeping."

"So" reviewed Glen, "so you walked into the woods ALONE, by yourSELF,
without taking your BUDDY?  I thought we had made the rules clear about
that, didn't we, HOWARD?"  He was right in my face and had read the name on
my chest.

"Yes sir, sorry sir" I replied.

"Name is Glen" returned Glen, and then he called over to Matthew "Get the
troupes over here".

Glen addressed the group.  "Before we go for breakfast we have a little
disciplinary action to take care of first.  Howard here decided to go on a
stroll in the woods, quietly by himself, without any buddy.  Now we don't
lay down a lot of rules, but the few we do, we expect to be followed.
Matthew, want to tell them what we do to campers who neglect the buddy
rule?"


1U240 Taped to Sam

Matthew answered, "Tape 'em up for the rest of the day."

I imagine my head must have been beet red and I felt awful.  I had wanted
to lay low and not call attention to myself, but instead here I was, the
center of everyone's mockery.  Matthew returned with a roll of duct tape.

"Do you want it on the ankle or wrist?" Glen asked me.

"What?" is all I could answer, not really understanding what was going on.

Matthew explained, "We're gonna tape you to your buddy, either at the wrist
or the ankle, what will it be?"

I felt embarrassed at the giggles of the other boys, and also I could feel
Sam glowering at me.  "But isn't that unfair to Sam?" I protested weakly.

"That's how the buddy system works" preached Glen.  "When you get yourself
in trouble you get your buddy in trouble too.  So think twice before
getting yourself in trouble."

He asked again "wrists or ankles, or do you want me to choose?"

"No, let Sam choose" I muttered. Sam kept quiet in protest, but held out
his left wrist.  Matthew grabbed my right wrist and taped it to Sam's left.

"OK guys' says Glen.  "This afternoon we're gonna show you the treehouses
and do a little cleaning."

Treehouses, that sounds interesting, I thought.

But Glen turned towards Sam and me and said "You guys have to stay behind.
Taped together you'll never make it up the rope ladder."

Then Matthew chimed in "Let them pick the berries, they can do that."

That's when Sam grumbled "Don't expect us to pick too many berries with our
hands tied up like this."

Glen agreed.  "OK Matthew, better move that duct tape down to their ankles.
So Matthew ripped the duct tape off our wrists, taking a few hairs with it,
and then tried to put the same piece around our ankles.  But the tape was
no longer very sticky, and ankles are bigger than wrists, and it fell off
with the first step we took.

Matthew tore off a new, long piece of duct tape, started above my right
knee, pulled it snug over to Sam's left thigh, between his legs and back to
mine.  Matthew's head pressed against my crotch as he reached for the tape
from behind Sam's legs.  Between that pressure on my crotch and all this
skin-to-skin contact with Matthew, I could not help but sprout a boner,
again.

Matthew backed off after he finished and everyone there was looking at our
tied up legs and my big boner.  "Look Howard's got a stiffy," someone
called out, as if it wasn't obvious enough already.  I had nowhere to turn
and could only cross my hands in front of my crotch.

"Hey Howard, is Sam turning you on?" teased Frankie.

'Shut up or I'll kick your balls' retorted Sam.

Then Glen cut in "OK boys, that's enough. '


Glen's boner speech

Glen continued "Howard here broke the rule and now he's getting punished.
We don't have a lot of rules, but we do enforce the ones we have.  And
here's another rule for you boys: we don't tease others about their body
parts, whether they be tiny dicks or huge boners.  We're all boys here, you
are all free to skinny dip, you're gonna see each others' body parts sooner
or later, and I want no teasing.  Teenage boys get boners all the time,
it's only nature.  Anyone here never got a boner, then put up your hand."

Of course nobody put up their hand.  Then Glen told me. "Howard, you got
nothing to be ashamed of.  There's no need to hide your crotch behind your
hands."  By now my boner had wilted from the shock and I let my arms droop
by my sides.

"Now then, anybody gets a boner, that's OK.  I don't want to see anyone
jerking off though.  No I'm not gonna ask who does and doesn't jerk off,
pretty well every one does, whether they admit it or not.  Just make sure
you do it in a shower stall, and not make a mess anywhere else."

"Eh, where was I? Oh yes, no making fun of other people's body parts.  The
Lake Trout are a team and we support each other.  Howard here is one of us
too, even if he is being punished for the time being.  Tomorrow morning the
tape will come off and everything will be back to normal.  But now let's go
and clean up those treehouses.  Matthew, could you grab two buckets for Sam
and Howard?  We'll drop 'em off at the raspberry patch on our way over."


The Raspberry Patch

At first it was very awkward to walk but soon we learned to march together
in step.  Sam, me and two buckets were dropped off at a raspberry patch.
We were told we could head back to camp when the buckets were full, just
not to wander off to anywhere else.

The good news was my boner had totally disappeared.  The bad news was that
with our thighs taped together it was difficult to avoid the thorns while
reaching over to pick the berries.  We ate the first dozen or so ourselves,
and then started to fill the buckets.  By the time we were done our legs
were scratched and our hands looked blood red from crushed ripe berries.

"Can we sit down for a minute?" I asked.  Our pails were full and we
lumbered over to a big tree, and sat down on the ground covered in pine
needles.

"What a bountiful harvest" observed Sam.  Funny language, I didn't know if
he was sincere of sarcastic.

"You sound like our preacher" I told him.

"You go to church?" Sam asked.

"With my family, every Sunday" I answered.  "Do you?"

"No, my family only goes at Christmas."

"Do you believe in God?"

"I don't know, maybe not exactly, but I believe in something."

"What do you mean?"

'Well look around you.." said Sam.

"Huh?" is all I could reply.

"What do you see?"

"Just you, and the raspberry bushes, and trees, and more trees..."

'Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yeah, I guess..." I answered, sounding non-committal, but I had to wonder,
was he talking about the trees or about us.

"We're all part of it."

"Huh?"

"You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars" Sam
waxed philosophically.

"I think I've heard that somewhere before..."

"It means everything is connected somehow, everything in the universe,
everything in nature..."

"Well I guess WE are connected" I quipped, pointing at the duct tape.

"Yeah, connected at the hips" Sam laughed.

I was glad he was taking it so well, this trouble I got us into.  But me, I
had had enough.  I could feel the pressure in my belly starting to
intensify, and I was scared I wouldn't be able to hold it much longer.

"Darn" I said.  "Sam, we got to take off this duct tape.  I need to take a
dump real bad"

I reached for the duct tape and wanted to rip it off, but Sam stopped me.

"We can't take it off.  It won't stick back on and they will know we
cheated. I will walk with you to the picnic basket.  Anyway, I need to use
it too."


Crapping with Sam

The churning in my belly increased as we walked to the picnic basket
together.  I warned Sam that we had to hurry or else I wouldn't even make
it on time.  So we started speed-walking together.  Down below I pinched
down hard to keep a lid on the mounting pressure that was about to explode,
but it wasn't easy to keep things shut down while you're taking big goose
steps.

When we finally got to the picnic basket and put down our buckets Sam asked
me who should go first.  But I was in too big a hurry to even answer, just
positioned myself by the crapper dragging Sam along in the process, pushed
down my Speedos and quickly plopped down over the shit hole.  Sam was
forced to sit down next to me. Finally I could release.

The sound was embarrassing, a long squeak followed by a rapid gunfire of
puff-puff-puffs.  But for a second I actually felt relieved.  If it was
only gas, at least I would be able to pull up my Speedos now and get out of
here.  I was just about to stand up but then I got this queasy feeling in
my stomach, this premonition of something about to explode.

A plug shot out with the force of a canon, followed by a splattering of
softer stuff.  The stench was overwhelming.  Gosh, what could I have eaten?
Was it the hot dogs they had served at camp?  But if they were bad, then
all the campers should be getting diarrhea.  I almost wished that was the
case.  I know it is a terrible thing to wish upon others, but I felt so
embarrassed producing this unholy mess with Sam right next to me, I just
didn't want to be the only one.

Sam managed to keep a straight face, sitting next to me on the edge of the
crapper, but I'm sure the stench must have been bowling him over.  I would
not have thought I would have been able to sit on the crapper together with
another boy and keep my pecker down, but when you suffer diarrhea like
this, the possibility of a boner doesn't even enter into the picture.  Here
Sam was with his thigh taped to mine and him staring at my dick and still
it remained as limp as a washcloth.  Sam could look all he wanted, my own
attention was on the explosion below, and the final relief. I'm not sure if
I felt worse for myself being in this predicament, or for Sam, for having
to witness it from this close, and especially for having to smell it.

When Sam looked up from my dick his eyes caught mine, and he asked if he
should close his eyes for me.

"Forget it, just close your nose" I suggested.  Having told him he only
needed to close his nose, Sam studied my dick and balls unabashedly.

'Got any hair yet on your balls?' he asked me.

"Sure I do" I replied, my voice still tight from the discomfort in my
belly.

Sam bent down for a closer look and said "Oh now I see it.  Guess it
doesn't show that much 'cause it's blond - like your head - should have
known."

I waited a minute or two to make sure the dripping had ended, then stood
up, reluctantly.  I had this surreal experience of somebody else inhabiting
my body, somebody else standing up with soft shit dripping off his ass.
This simply could not be happening to me.  It is embarrassing enough to be
seen sitting on the crapper, but in this state... It was beyond words.

The container with paper and hand cleaner was on Sam's sight, and he saw me
looking to it.  Without me needing to say anything, he handed me the roll
of toilet paper.  I ripped off an arm's length of paper, bunched it up into
a wad and started to wipe my ass.  I couldn't remember ever having been
this messy.  I had to repeat the exercise three, four times before the
paper finally came back pretty clean after wiping my ass.

All the while Sam was sort of looking and not looking at me, just stared
into space, glancing over once in a while to see if I was done yet.  Then
as I was about to pull up my Speedos, he mumbled something.

"What!?" I asked, not being in the best mood, I must admit.

"You uh, you missed....  Here, try some of this down there." and without he
handed me the pump bottle of waterless hand cleaner.

 This is all I needed.  It was embarrassing enough having to wipe my shitty
ass tied to Sam, without him observing I missed a spot.  But maybe the soap
was a good idea, anything that would help with the smell.  I pumped some of
that alcohol-based cleaner into my hand and then smeared it on my ass.  It
felt cold.

I inspected the wad of toilet paper after I had wiped my ass again and sure
enough, that wet cleaner had lifted off some more poop, turning the paper
light brown.  So I repeated the procedure.  I didn't think I had ever in my
life needed so much time to clean my behind.  This had to be the most
embarrassing moment of my life.  The only thing that could make it worse, I
realized, would be if had sprouted a boner while I was naked and shitty
like this.

Gosh, why was I even THINKING this?  The mere mental mention of a boner was
enough to raise my pecker.  Sure enough, it was starting to swell and raise
up a little.  This was the coup de grace.  I wanted to sink through the
ground, dead or alive, it didn't matter.

Don't think about boners, don't think about boners, I repeated frantically
inside my head.  But of course you always think about the very thing you
don't want to think about it.  I had to think of a distraction, tried to
think back of horror movies, of graphic scenes of blood and gore in the
Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

It didn't work.  Movies just weren't real enough.  I needed something more
convincing to put into my head, something real.  I thought back of my own
visit to the dentist, only two weeks ago, about the very real pain of that
needle getting pushed into my jaw, the even worse pain of the drill because
the freezing wouldn't take, the agony of yet another needle, and then my
swollen tongue, my swollen nose, my swollen everything.

There I went again, thinking of swollen members.  Was there nothing that
could put boners out my mind?  My dick was starting to rise dangerously
close to the horizontal.  I needed pain, real pain, to distract me,
preferably something that wouldn't maim me permanently.

Back to the movies.  I remembered an actress in a TV interview, saying she
pulled her nose hairs when she needed to cry in front of the camera.  Well
I had to try something.  I fumbled for a nose hair.  Whooh!  Did my fingers
ever stink!  Sam must think I've gone mental.  Well I tried to make it look
natural, like I was simply picking my nose.

Actually that wasn't a pretty picture either, wiping my ass and picking my
nose at the same time.  How could Sam possibly tolerate being tied to a
dirty imbecile like that?  I gave up on the whole exercise, just pulled up
my Speedos to hide my growing member, whether my ass was clean enough yet
or not.

Safely covered up, my heart rate slowly returned to normal, and I was able
to wash my hands with copious hand cleaner without shaking too much.

"You said you needed to go too?" I asked after I finished wiping my hands,
but my throat was so constricted, Sam couldn't understand a word.

"Come again?" he asked.

Breathe, I told myself.  I cleared my throat.  Control yourself.  Then,
trying to sound perfectly casual, I repeated "You gotta go?"

"Oh, yeah, right" answered Sam, and we shuffled over so that Sam could
position himself over the shit hole now.  He pulled down his shorts and we
sat down again.  Sam had a big fat, but limp penis.  His black pubic hair
showed up much more prominently than the light fuzz on my own balls.

It occurred to me that bad as things were, I COULD have been worse still.
If I had not made it to the crapper on time, and had exploded with all that
diarrhea into my Speedos, Speedos which I could not take down lower than
the duct tape above my knee, that would have been a worse mess yet.  The
thought of that was almost horrible enough to settle my pecker.

Sam laid his forearms on his lap, and bent over forwards, straining to push
something out, while I stared down his naked back and ass.  I had never
studied a boy from this close-up before, and certainly not naked.  Buttocks
can be fascinating when watched from different angles, I decided.

After a few plop-plops Sam sat back up, affording me a better view of his
equipment.  He saw me looking him over, and asked 'Never seen someone take
a crap before?'

There was not a hint of accusation in his voice.  He just asked me in
casual, conversational matter.  It was a relief that we were still on
speaking terms, that he still considered me a regular human being, even
after the shitty display I had just gone through.  I tried to sound just as
casual as Sam, as I answered.

"No, have you?"

'Well there's Jazz of course, we share the bathroom all the time.  In the
morning I brush my teeth while he sits on the toilet, and then we switch.
And then there' s my cousin Willie, he don't even need a toilet. When we're
swimming in the creek, he'll just run in the cornfield and squat and crap
just like that.  And then he just jumps back in the creek to rinse his ass.
Speaking of which, will you hand me some paper?' and with that we both got
up.

I started to unroll the toilet paper, but Sam told me to start him off with
just two squares.  Hence I tore off only two squares, and handed them over.
Sam folded them together, and then folded them again.

"I like how carefully you fold those, like Origami" I quipped.

Sam didn't react to my commentary, but wiped his ass once, inspected the
paper, saw that it was clean, and pulled up his pants.  I handed him the
soap next.

"Did you ever join your cousin Willie for a crap?" I asked.

'No, I've just watched him through the corn rows.  I peed with him though.
One time he peed right in the creek and I said that's gross, now I hafta
swim in that.  So he asked, what do you want me to do, pee in the air? And
he aimed right up high.  After that we had some contests who could pee the
highest and who could pee the furthest.'

"Who won?" I asked.

'Don't remember, we did it enough we each must have won at different
times'.

We picked up our buckets and headed back to the tents.


Berries and Supper

Returning to our tent site we set the buckets down on the picnic table and
sat.  We had already eaten enough berries while picking them and anyway I
would have felt guilty to put my hand in the food after that messy episode
on the crapper.  I didn't know how I had survived that embarrassment.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for not giving me a hard time about that mess at the picnic basket.
Gosh, I have never felt so embarrassed in my life."

"Don't sweat it."

"You won't tell anyone anything, will you?"

"Of course not, it's private.  And besides, we're buddies."

"I'm sorry I got us tied up like this."

"Yeah, well don't sweat it.  A year from now we'll laugh about it."

"You think so?"

"Yeah sure.  When you look back it is kinda funny.  You were so embarrassed
you could shit your pants."

"Hah, hah" I answered, without enthusiasm.

But then I asked "How about you, what was the most embarrassing moment in
your life?"

"Oh, I've had some doozies."

"Can you tell me?"

"No, not now, maybe later" Sam answered, as we heard the noise of the
returning campers.  They noticed the raspberries as once, sat down with us
at the table, and dove into the food.  Harry, the always happy blue-eyed
blond, sat next to me and started talking a mile a minute, about the three
treehouses they had cleaned and the gross dead things they had found.  The
others joined, each trying to outdo the other with their horror
stories. They told us we were the lucky ones, going to the raspberry patch.

"Oh yeah?  Look at all the scratches we got on our legs," retorted Sam.

They looked, and Harry asked me "You always wear Speedos?"

"Well they're kinda stuck on me now" I said, pointing to the obvious duct
tape.

"No, but I mean, just in general."

"I'm on a swim team and always wear Speedos swimming," I replied.  When I'm
not swimming I usually wear regular shorts."  I wasn't sure why Harry asked
the question, and the answer seemed obvious enough, but sometimes the
easiest thing is to just state the obvious.

"What do YOU wear when swimming?" I asked in turn.

"Anything", he said.  "Swim trunks, shorts, underwear, nothing if I'm all
by myself."

"You're not allowed to swim by yourself here" I observed.

"I know" he replied, and took another handful of raspberries.  With a horde
of campers and two councilors digging in, a whole afternoon's worth of
berry picking disappeared in less than fifteen minutes.

"Now that we've had our appetizer, lets head out for supper" said Glen.
Back at the main base we were served lasagna, milk and chocolate cake.
Some of the guys complained about the food, but I thought it looked pretty
good, only I was too scared to eat just now.  While at the base, Glen
picked up our activity roster.  After returning to the Clearwater tents,
Glen posted the activity roster and laid out our day schedule.




"What doesn't kill me makes me stronger" Friedrich Nietzsche wrote back in
the eighteen hundreds.  Well Howard survived the worst embarrassment of his
life.  Will it make him stronger?

Thanks for your kind comments to kanopeer@checkjemail.nl