Camp Capers


by Jason J. Andresen <Dpitzer@sonic.net>

Camp Capers by Jason J. Andresen

PART ONE

It was the last week of camp. Summer vacation was all but over. We were all in a mischeivious mood, looking for ways to cheat getting caught at rebellious pranks. I and the other second year guys were the leaders, instigating trouble wherever possible. There were 14 of us "older" boys (meaning 14-15 years old) and an equal number of first year boys (13-14 years old).

By tradition, the camp was divided into the two groups -- the Gators (my group) and the Hawks -- the 14 boys that occupied the three cabins on the opposite side of camp, some 60 yards away. The two groups were seperated by the councelors cabin, the latrine and showers, and the dining cabin, more or less in the center. During the four weeks of camp the two groups were pitted against each other in sports and other games -- lively competition being thought to be good for morale and camradship. I suppose the respective group councelors competed somewhat also, although they were less ovbious about it.

Competition this summer had been particularly keen, the counselors said, and it was certainly moreso than it had been the previous summer, which was, by comparison, rather bland.

The goal this last week was for one group to steal the other's flag. The flag was nothing more than a pillow case with the name of the group and some primitive emblem scribbled on it with various colors of felt-tip pen. Each group's flag was attatched to a "pole" (nothing more than a more-or-less straight branch with smaller branches removed). The poles were planted in the ground outside one of the grop cabins. Stealing the other groups flag was a real coup and the flag were guarded carefully, and taken inside at night. Although stealing the opposing group' flag was not officially scored by the counselors as were the games, swimming meets, compass and star studies etc., it was well known that to have the flag of the other group was THE prize of the entire four weeks.

Inevitably, one of the first-year boys from each group was elected to steal the other group's flag. This always (by tradition, anyway) took place during the last week of camp.

We Gators had nominated young, "first-year" Sean to be our "kidnapper." He had ventured forth two nights running now and returned empty-handed -- but had not been caught either. It was now Tuesday night and ten of us were huddled in the largest cabin waiting to catch the poor boy elected by the Hawks to infiltrate our side of the camp. It was way past midnight, the counselors were long in their beds and the camp was deadly quiet.

"What's that," I said under my breath to Jeff Wills, my fellow guard for the first shift. "Somebody's coming." I said. Less than a minute later Wills had a arm-lock around one of the Hawks. So as not to raise a disturbance and wake any of the adults, the Hawk put up little resistance. I clamped my hand over his mouth and while Wills held his arms tightly pinned behind, I reached down and placed my hand in his crotch. I placed my mouth an inch from his ear. "Make any noise or put up a fight and I squeeze," I said and just to make certain the would-be thief understood his perdicament, I gently squeezed his balls through his jeans. "Understand?" He shook his head in a "yes" motion several times.

"It's Carson," Wills said with some surprise, wrestling him to the ground as quietly as possible. If Carson was ever to make an escape now would have been the time to attempt it before reenforcements arrived. Apparently my hard grip on his balls blocked any such attempt from his mind.

"Carson?" I said. "Well who would have thought." I said with some joy. Carson was a second year guy; the leader of the Hawks and in many ways and a real catch. He was also generally considered to be a conceited, arrogant s. o.b. "I told you not to make any noise," I said into Carson's ear as Wills struggled to keep his arms well immobilized. To punctuate my order, I grabbed as much of his crotch as possible and squeezed hard. He moaned through my hand which I kept firmly planted over his mouth.

By now the remaining four Gators posted as guard that night had gathered in the cabin to see what had happened. Several flashlights shown on Carson's face. One of the other guys (Pickett, who was our strongest, by far) assisted Wills in holding Carson.

"Hey, it's Carson," Darmish said in a loud whisper as he sat on Carson's legs. "You got to be stupid to come over here, Carson."

"Stupid is right," I said and motioned for the others to keep quiet. "We got ourselves a real prise tonight," I added as I smiled at Carson. We had dragged Carson to the center of the cabin and all the other Gators were now encircling him with Wills, Pickett, Darmish and myself holding him down securely.

"Squeeze his balls for him," Darmish said, delighted to have the prize catch of the enemy camp in hand. Carson was not a favorite, to say the least.

"I have, already," I said to Darmish. "But I'll be happy to do it again if he wants."

I sort-of shared the unofficial leadership of the Gators with Billy Walters another second year guy. Altletically, Billy he was on a level with Pickett and he was well liked by all. I was less athletic, but smarter and more outgoing than Billy. Together we made a good pair of leaders.

"We can't just let him go," Wills said looking around at the others as best he could in the darkness lit only with 3 or 4 flashlights. "If he was a "first year", we'd just send him back. But not Carson, not buddy-boy Carson. He's got to pay somehow."

We all seemed to agree silently. We definately had Carson and short of raising a loud ruckus, he was going nowhere. But what to do?

"Well," Billy asked after a minute. Carson, realizing that struggling would only gain him another squeeze of his balls, lay still with Wills, Pickett and Darmish still guarding and holding him down.

"Somebody go outside and get a branch -- a small one -- to make a switch with," I said in a whisper.

"Yeah!" A couple of voices said in approval.

"I'll get one," Billy said and quickly left.

I turned to Carson. "Your're going to get you butt switched," I said just loud enough for all to hear. There were several giggles. "Not only by me but by anyone else who wants to -- including our first years." Someone had lit a lantern by this time and you could see fear in Carson's eyes. He was between a rock and a hard place. If he resisted, he would make enough noise to wake the counselors and his capture would be big news in no time. If, on the other hand, he gave in and didn't resist he well knew that we would have our way with him. He had two choices, both bad.

Billy returned with not one but two nice green Willsow branches. He was already stripping off the smaller branches and leaves. Everyone, including Carson, watched him closely. In no time he had two very nice looking switches. Both about 24 inches long and with a diameter a little smaller than a pencil. "These will sting like hell," Billy said as he lightly smacked his open palm with one.

"Okay, Carson," I said, slowly removing my hand from his mouth. "If you make a sound, you'll get twice as many and twice as hard." Carson wet his dry lips and swallowed hard but said nothing. "Pull his pants down," I said to Pickett who immediately unbuttoned Carson's jeans and pulled the zipper down. "In fact," Billy said, "take them all the way off."

I reached down and roughly pulled his sneakers off so his jeans would slide completely off. "Good idea, " I said. Carson soon lay with sneakers and jeans off.

"Underpants too," Billy said with obvious relish at the prospect of humiliating Carson in front of us all. "Let's have a good look at his no doubt tiny prick and miniscule balls." Carson finally started to offer some resistance, although with Wills holding his wrists tightly together and with Darmish holding his legs, all he could do was thrash around a bit. The entire cabin had moved even closer to watch the unpopular Carson stripped naked -- at least below the waist.

"You wouldn't," Carson hissed through clenched teeth, sweat now covering his forehead.

"Prove him wrong," Billy said, nodding to me and smiling. I personally reached up and slid my fingers underneath the elastic waist band of Carson's jockey shorts. He looked down at his waist wide-eyed as though he couldn't believe I was actually going to expose him in this way. As I slowly worked his underpants downward the cabin became even more silent. Carson's heavy breathing was the loudest sound. Two or three flashlights were aimed at Speringield's crotch. After exposing a thick tuft of brown pubic hair, I paused and looked at Billy again.

Billy nodded."All the way off, " he said. I yanked Carson's underwear down around his knees then down past his ankles and completely off.

"Hey, not so small after all," Pickett said looking at Billy then back at Carson's exposed penis. He was almost laughing as he said it.

"No bigger than most," I said."Let make him really sorry he attempted to break through our guard -- AND got caught."

"What do you mean," Pickett said.

"This," I said and reached forward and held Carsons _c_o_c_k_ to the side with one hand and grabbed his balls with the other. Carson began squirming violently as he felt my touch on his bare scrotum. Billy leaned over and whispered loudly in Carson's ear.

"If you don't lie still, I'll personally shove your underwear in your mouth and squeeze your bare balls a lot harder than there're being squeezed right now. Now LIE STILL!" There was a sadistic tone in Billy's voice that I'd never heard before. Apparently Sparingfield noticed it too since he immediately stopped his futile struggling. And to prove his point, Billy picked up the underpants and held them an inch or so from Carson's face. I increased the pressure on his balls slightly. He winched in silent pain. Carson was completely at our mercy and he knew it. In a half-hearted, lack-luster attempt to fight back at least verbally, he looked at Billy, then me, then Pickett.

"You assholes," he said.

"Hey, good idea, Carson." Billy said as he pulled the underpants down on Carson's head like a ski cap. Several of the guys chuckled softly at the ridiculous sight. "_d_a_m_n_ good idea," Billy repeated. "Let's take a look at his asshole, guys. Push his legs back over his head, Darmish." With only minimal resistance from Carson, Darmish lifted both legs and flexed them back up and toward Carson's head. Pickett quickly got into a position where he could hold them in that position.

Carson's asshole was now fully exposed under the light of the lantern and the several flashlights now directed to it. There was just enough light on Carson's face to see it turn bright red as I looked up at him between his pinned legs.

"What do you see, Wineberg," Billy said to the nearest first year.

"Where he goes to the bathroom," Wineberg said, embarrassed.

"What?" I said to Wineberg. "'Where he goes to the bathroom??'. Are you kidding? Can't you say 'asshole'?"

"Yeah, sure," Wineberg said, recovering his composure and wanting to be one of the boys. "His ass-hole." Wineberg stressed the 'ass-hole' with relish. Again, several chuckles were heard.

"Don't be to hard on Wineberg, Jason," Billy said in a teasing tone of voice. "Wineberg's never seen anyone's anus, I'm sure -- including his own." Wineberg said nothing, confirming Billy's conjecture.

"_d_a_m_n_, Carson," Billy said, enjoying Carson's obious discomfort, "now I know the true meaning of 'butt-ugly'." More snickers from all quarters.

"I always knew you were full of _s_h_i_t_," Pickett said to Carson. "I'm glad to see that you have a way to get rid of some of it. Unfortunately not enough." Pickett pulled Carson's legs further back, spreading his buttocks even further apart giving everyone who cared to look an even better view of the wrinkled tightly closed asshole.

"Come on you guys," Carson said in a genuine appeal to our sense of justice and fair play. "Enough's enough. You caught me, okay? So now you can tell everybody."

"Enough?" Billy said. "Enough, he says." Billy looked at each of us in turn. "No, Carson, not 'enough'. In fact, we haven't even started. And when we get finished we won't have to tell everybody. Who wants to switch his butt first?"

"I will," I said, taking the Willsow switch from Billy."What's everyone else think? How many?" I moved the switch back and foth quickly to get the feel of it.

"Two from everyone who wants to," Pickett said, his hands still tightly around Carson's ankles. "Others can just watch if they want."

"Like he is now," I asked indicating Carson's current inviting position," or should we turn him over on his belly?"

"No," Billy said immediately, "like he is. Just like he is." Billy pulled the underpants off Carson's head and held them to his face. "Open you mouth," he said.

"What?" Carson asked, stalling for time.

"Open wide....NOW!" Billy siad in a menacing tone with his mouth not more than a few inched from Carson's ear.

"Come on, you heard him," I said to Carson, gently tapping his butt with the switch. "If you don't open wide, I'll squeeze your you-know-what again." Carson still did nothing.

Billy grabbed Carson's jaw and squeezed hard, forcing his mouth open. He then crammed the underpants in his mouth. "If you have any brains at all, you'll keep them there," Billy said with a final stuffing action.

"Okay, hold him good," I said, "here's my two." I brought the switch back as far as I could in the cramped cabin and then forward hard across both of Carsons beatifully exposed buttocks. He flinched as the switched landed with a soft but sharp cracking sound. A second later Carson threw his head back with eyes tightly closed. "Ahhhh." he cried, the noise nicely muffled by the underpants stuffed well into his mouth. He began to squirm in pain.

"You'd better keep still," I said bringing the switch back for my second cut. I don't want to hit your balls by mistake." Carson mumbled somethin unintelligible through his gag. I counted to three in a loud whisper and then the second cut, again as hard as I could. This one landed a little lower, towards his legs. Again Carson yelled throught the underwear and squirmed even more.

"Would you look at that," Billy said pointing out the two bright red marks crossing Carson's butt. "Wait 'til his fellow Hawks see those. Okay, who's next?"

"I am," Darmish said said. Somebody help hold him." Billy himself took Darmish's place, freeing Darmish to crawl around to Carson's butt-end. I handed him the switch. "Too bad it's so late at night," Darmish said as he took a practice swing. "I'd like to really hear him yell." With that he landed a hard cut to Carson's cheecks. Another muffled yell. More squirming. Then another cut of the switch. This missed slightly and landed on Carson's upper legs, just below his buttocks. Carson yelled even louder and really began thrashing around.

"I think you might have nicked his balls," I said as Darmish handed the switch back to me and resumed his place behind Bigg's head.

"You didn't like that one, did you Carson," Billy added. Carson, still squirming in pain, apparnetly didn't hear the question. No matter. Pickett now had the switch and was getting into position.

"Only two?" Pickett asked as he teased Carson by tapping his butt lightly with the switch several times.

"Unless somebody wants to donate their two." I said and looked around.

"He can have mine." It was Blake, a first year (and probably only-year) boy. Blake was a loner and really hated camp. He got along okay, but had few friends and stayed to himself most of the time.

"What's the matter, Blake. No balls?" It was Pickett asking.

"Oh, I've got balls alright. As big as yours. Look, do you want my two or not?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'll take them." Pickett said. "Anybody else?"

"I don't want mine." Pittman, another first year boy said. "But I give my two to Billy," he added proving what everyone already knew: Pittman was a master brown-noser.

"I'll take 'em," Billy quickly said. "Okay Pickett, you got four, don't be greedy. Let's get on with it."

"Right. Give me some room," Pickett said as he brought the switch back, taking aim. Then Whack! a quick hard cut squarely across both cheeks. Carson jerked in pain and began squirming around again but he didn't yell this time. Another bright red mark appeared on Carson's ass. Then the second, not so hard but landing low on Bigg's ass, near his legs. Still Carson made no sound but only jerked around in pain. Pickett landed his third squarely across both cheeks again. Carson let out a muffled yell, this time. Pickett brought the switch back and held it poised for his final cut. Most were looking at the switch frozen in Pickett's hand but ready to fall on its victum's butt. I, however looked at Billy. He was really enjoying Carson's torture and humiliation. I followed Billy's stare to Carson's face. Carson, too, was looking at the switch wondering when Pickett would bring it down and where it would land and would it sting as much as the cut across his legs. All of this showed in Carson's wide open eyes. I continued to stare intently at Carson's face. I only heard the next cut hit home on his butt. I watched as Carson closed his eyes tightly, threw his head backward and yelled through the gag in his mouth. To my surprise, I realised that my _c_o_c_k_ was getting hard.


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