All chapters can be found in:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/consequences-of-strip-poker/.
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July 17-18, 1987
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After campfire, all the boys returned to their tents. Over in Tent 1, Chris and his buddies decided to sleep together and pulled three mattresses to the floor side-by-side. They laid two sleeping bags under them and used two more as top cover. They all got naked as they did every night now, and moved towards going to bed. "I gotta go see Mr. Bill one more time for my pills and more lotion. Save my place for me!"
"You're gonna walk to Mr. Bill's naked?" Willie asked.
"Sure, why not, I have to take my clothes off when I get there anyway," Chris said and took off out the door.
He knocked and Mr. Bill opened the door. Bill stared for a moment then managed, "I . . . I . . . I was just about to come get you, I thought you forgot," Bill stammered surprised that the boy was already nude.
Chris entered and saw that the bed was ready for him. "Here, take these first," Bill said handing him the double dose that would last till morning. He swallowed them and took his position on the bed. Bill gave him a once over," still looking good Chris, no significant change. Let's do this." Bill poured the lotion down his back and over his butt, then rubbed it around with his hands leaving the thick coating. When it dried sufficiently, he told Chris to turn over. His perfect little erection stuck straight up as soon as he landed on his back.
"Do I get to see your dick this time? You said later, and it's like 9 hours later." Bill did tell the boy `later' when he was applying the lotion in the Health Lodge and he asked the same question.
`Oh, what the fuck,' Bill thought to himself, `he's already seen me naked and even rubbed up against my dick in the shower yesterday.' Bill walked to the door and latched the inside lock that only the advisor's tent-cabins have. Standing beside Chris lying on the bed, Bill dropped his pants and underwear to his ankles, revealing his fully erect penis; and just as quickly, Chris' hand shot out and wrapped his fingers around it. "I thought you just wanted to see it."
"Sorry, can I hold it?" he asked without letting go.
"Well, I guess so, since you're already latched onto it. You're as fast as a rattlesnake, you know."
"Did you know that you're just a little bit bigger than Pat," Chris told Bill. Bill didn't say anything knowing that Pat's only slightly smaller penis had been in Chris' rectum last night. "Hummm. . ." A drop of pre-cum oozed out of his penis.
"What's that?" Chris asked as he reached out with his free hand to touch the clear viscous fluid formed at the piss slit of Mr. Bill's penis. Bill let him tentatively touch the viscus fluid and Chris pulled it away with his forefinger. He squeezed it between his finger and thumb. "Oh, it's slippery and thick. Is this sperm?"
"No, but it is from one of the other reproductive glands. It helps during sex, makes everything slippery and cleans out the urethra in preparation for the sperm that comes later." Bill explained, slipping into teaching mode. Chris licked his fingers while Bill explained.
"Pat had to use some stuff from a tube he brought to make us slippery last night."
"Not everyone makes pre-cum, and even if they do, it isn't enough. You still need something slippery."
"Like olive oil?"
"Yes, olive oil is very good, and tastes good too. Is that what he used on you?"
"No, it was Jergens Hand lotion, but they have olive oil too."
"They sound like Boy Scouts, very prepared."
Mr. Bill went to work on Chris' pubic area, while Chris examined the adult dick in his hand. From his vantage point below Bill, Chris had a perfect view of the underside of the male penis. That perspective had the best view of a frenulum he'd ever had, and he used his thumb to examine it. But to Bill, it was like he was playing with it, teasing him on the erotic location. Chris didn't understand just how sensitive that spot on the penis is. When Bill got around to spreading the lotion over Chris' equally hard dick, his hand, almost involuntarily, moved the silky outer skin of Bill's dick up and down the shaft.
When Bill began masturbating him, as he had done the last two times, Chris' hand matched Bill's tempo, but only the speed. Distance wise, he moved less than a half inch. As Chris reached his fourth orgasm, his grip on Bill tightened, and his hand jerked the full length of Bill's dick, enough to take Bill over the precipice of his own orgasm. Bill knew he was approaching an orgasm, but could not do anything about it, even if he wanted to, his small head had taken full control.
Bill is a virgin. 44-years-old, and Bill never so much as played show-me-yours-and-I'll-show-you-mine. He's never been on a sleep-over with friends, and never messed around sexually. He's never been on a date, or romantically kissed another human being. During school he was always considered a geek. Science Fairs were his thing and he was good at it. He was smart, mostly a straight A student, he wore glasses, and was not all that attractive. Neither boys nor girls had ever attracted him. Sure, he masturbated, once he learned about it in 8th grade sex education when he was 14. Not even his parents had informed him of the joys of a penis and he didn't have a brother or a close friend to teach him. But once he did it that first time, he would masturbate multiple times a day in the privacy of his bedroom or bath, or the school toilets.
29 years of being horny exploded out of Bill. His semen shot out of his dick as directed by young Chris. Since he was laying on a bed below the dick, he naturally had pulled it in a downward direction and the globs of cream of meat fired directly at him. Chris was fascinated by the spewing organ. But he was too engaged in his own orgasm to sit up and pull the dick into his mouth, so it unloaded on Chris' chest and stomach.
Bill was mortified at what he had done. One of his greatest fantasies had come to fruition, but for Bill, it was one thing to simply masturbate the boy, but to become involved in a joint sex act, with an almost 13-year-old, was . . . was . . . unimaginable!
It was unimaginably hot!
Chris on the other hand was tickled pink. Very pink! The lotion drying on his pubic area was pink and for what he had just done to Mr. Bill, well, he couldn't have been more pleased with himself. Most of his chest and stomach didn't have any lotion on it, and as he recovered from his orgasm, which only produced a couple dribbles, he put his hand in the largest puddle of Mr. Bill's cum that pooled in the hollow of his chest. Almost sensually he rubbed his hand through the goo, then began spreading it around, first over one nipple then back to the puddle and over to the other nipple he spread Mr. Bill's seed. Up and down his torso his hand moved eventually spreading the semen that landed on him into a thin film covering his stomach and chest.
"Aw Chris, you're making a mess," Mr. Bill said waking up to the reality of what he was watching. "Where's my washcloth?"
The couple dribbles produced by Chris' penis ended up on Bill's fingers considering the way he had been holding the boy's penis. When he turned to find something to clean up his mess, his fingers naturally went to his mouth but the combination of Caladryl and boy semen was disgusting. He used the opportunity to pull his pants back up.
Using his canteen as a water source and a towel, Bill cleaned his semen off Chris' torso. Chris was so cute, lying there trying to look a little contrite for having masturbated his leader. "You know you shouldn't have done that Chris; I shouldn't have done what I did to you! You forgot about mutual consent. I didn't consent for you to do that to me."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Bill, but you said I could do what you were doing to me, I thought that was mutual consent?"
"You're right, I'm sorry, I did tell you that, I forgot."
"I'm sorry," Chris apologized again, "so just to be clear, I give you my consent to do anything to me you want."
"That's a broad statement. What if I want to hang you by your ankles, naked, from the center pole of the tent?"
"Would you?" Chris asked excitedly. "As long as I get to have an orgasm, you can hang me from a tree in the middle of camp. And if you hang me at the right height, I could suck your dick at the same time." Chris stated, upping the stakes of the game to the next level.
Bill ignored that last part, but it intrigued him that Chris was becoming, maybe more aggressive. "Don't worry, I wouldn't do that to you. I was just saying that mutual consent is usually about a specific action or event. Like when you and Pat did your thing last night."
"Darn! Well then, I give you my consent to do things with my penis any time you want. I love it when you do that to me. Oh, and you can do that prostate thing anytime too."
Chris, cleaned off and fully dry, got off the bed, unlocked the door and went back to his tent where he crawled in between Jimmy and Willie. Jimmy was happy now that he was included in the group sleeping together.
Chris woke up in the morning with Jimmy spooned behind him, his penis poking his behind. All four boys, went naked to the outhouse to pee. "Chris, you should see your back. Those little blisters are getting bigger," Jimmy told him. Chris reached back with his hand and felt around. "I need to go see Mr. Bill, but I gotta pee first."
After a satisfying piss, the other three boys went to their tent to get ready for the day. Chris went directly to Mr. Bill's tent and let himself in.
Mr. Bill was setting on the edge of his bed, just getting up. He did sleep naked, but had gotten up earlier to piss and went back to bed for 10 more minutes, so his penis was lying down between his legs. "Good morning, Chris, couldn't wait to see me till after I was up?"
"I'm sorry, but my little blisters are getting bigger. Even Jimmy noticed."
So now, here they were again, both completely nude, not even socks or pants bunched around ankles, and neither were erect.
"Ok," Mr. Bill said, "we need to do this anyway. It's as good a time as any." He stood and got the spare sheet and spread it over his bed.
Bill had a choice at this juncture. He could easily slip on a pair of shorts, or continue in the manner as if he was at home. At home Bill was a nudist, in the privacy of his isolated house, he was naked as a jaybird, only dressing for company, door-to-door salespeople, the paperboy, or when he went out. He didn't even dress when the landscape crew was doing their work outside. The little brain in the head of his dick, argued that staying nude would only be fair to Chris, after all he was standing nude just inside the door. His decision was to promote nudity as a healthy lifestyle and stayed nude.
"Lay down." Bill ordered the boy.
What he saw on the boy's back concerned Mr. Bill. The small blisters had doubled in size overnight and his entire back, buttocks, and calves were covered in the beginning stages of the rash that was now blistering up near his shoulders. The redness extended down to the back of his knees and out to his elbows. It was almost like the Benadryl tables were making the condition worse, but that made no sense.
"Ok, here it comes," Bill warned as he poured the cold lotion on his back. He spread the lotion from elbow to elbow, from his neck to his knees, the sides of his body down to just above the sheet. There was nothing to do, so Bill sat in the chair and watched the Caladryl dry. It was as much fun as watching paint dry or grass grow . . . watching a clothes dryer tumble would be exciting in comparison.
When it had dried, Bill had Chris flip over. Again, at first sight, Bill's concerns grew. The redness had crossed most of his chest and stomach, leaving only a light strip down the middle not yet affected. His pubic area was developing the same rash as he had on his back. His thighs were completely red. He poured copious amounts of the lotion on Chris and spread it evenly over his body. When his hand crossed Chris' nipples, Chris flinched and the centers hardened like miniature penises popping boners. Bill paid no attention to them and methodically worked from his neck down. In his groin, he could feel the numerous little bumps so he added a little extra lotion and carefully coated everything in the area making sure to cover where his legs came together and behind his scrotum. But today it was not sexual and Bill didn't react, but Chris, being a horny almost 13-year-old got his normal boner.
Bill covered everything that was the slightest bit red. While his front side dried, Bill got his morning pill and had him take it. "Do you think, you'll be ok on the hike this morning?"
"I'm ready to go," Chris replied.
"Don't you need to put on some clothes first."
"Well, it would be kinda fun if we could hike naked"
"Well, that ain't gonna happen. This afternoon is our overnight war canoe trip to the island. Think you'll be up for that as well?"
"Sure, don't see why not," Chris enthusiastically said. Bill wasn't so sure.
While Chris continued to dry, Bill got dressed. Then they exited the tent together to finish preparing for breakfast. Bill went to the outhouse to wash up and brush his teeth. The nearly all-pink boy went to get dressed.
Right after breakfast they left on the nature hike escorted by their CIT Randy and two of his fellow CITs. They led an interesting hike supplemented with Mr. Bill's books on birds and animals of the area. Twice they passed through the village of Whitefish Bay, home of the Naotkamegwanning First Nation, also known as Whitefish Bay First Nation. On the way out they hugged the northern coast and coming back they followed trails through the rugged forest.
Chris was uncomfortable during the trip; he was itching constantly but trying hard not to scratch. Randy pointed out to all the boys what poison ivy looked like, when he found some along the trail, too bad it just looks like green leaves. But he pointed out that the leaves were in groups of 3, then taught them the rhyme `leaves of three, leave it be.'
They returned to camp late enough that it wasn't worth the time to walk to camp only to turn around and walk right back to the dining hall, so the boys found some shade outside the hall. "I'm going to take Chris back to camp for his medication, save us something to eat if we're late."
Bill and Chris walked on to camp, Chris taking Bill's hand once they were out of sight of the group. They stopped to piss first at the outhouse then went into Bill's tent.
Chris immediately began stripping as Bill prepared the bed. After the hike, Bill wanted to get out of the long pants he'd worn and into his stylish camp-style cargo shorts. As he began putting on his shorts, Chris asked, "Aren't you going to be naked like me?" Chris enjoyed being nude, and enjoyed seeing Mr. Bill's penis and his much larger ball sack. He especially enjoyed when he'd gotten to hold it and Mr. Bill squirted on him.
Bill knew he shouldn't go along with Chris' request, his big brain was providing hundreds of reasons he shouldn't, but his little brain easily took control, overriding big brain's perfect logic. He stopped pulling on his shorts and lowered his underwear stepping out of them as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. `You aren't naked,' his little brain logic told him, `You have shoes and sock on.'
Bill turned towards the bed where Chris sat naked, putting his penis right in front of Chris' mouth. Chris, fast as a snake reached out his hand to Bill's dick, picking up the flaccid organ. He brought it near his face and licked the glans hoping for some of that sticky stuff he had tasted yesterday.
"There's none of the sticky stuff?" Chris stated and asked.
"Hasn't been enough time for it to start leaking out."
"When does it start?" Chris asked.
"Sometime after the man becomes aroused."
"Aren't you aroused?" Chris asked flipping Bill's nearly fully erect penis from side to side.
"Well, I am now that you're playing with my dick!" Just then production began to flow and a drop of the fluid he desperately wanted appeared from the man's piss hole. He brought the penis back to his mouth and licked across the top, removing the fluid.
"That's so good," Chris said after taking a moment to savor the flavor. Chris brought the glans back to his mouth and put it in his mouth, his lips settling below the corona. He sucked.
Bill took Chris' head in both hands and gently pulled him away from his penis. "Do you know what you're doing, Chris?"
"Yeah, it's called a blowjob, but I don't get why it called that if you suck instead of blow, but Jase didn't know that either."
"I see. Well, I don't know either, but we don't have time for this, you need a fresh application of Caladryl and take the last pill before lunch, which we are going to be late for."
The brief few seconds Bill's glans was in Chris' mouth was by far the most erotic feeling he'd ever experienced, none of his sex toys at home had every come close to anything like that.
Chris' rash was expanding, blisters were getting larger. Some had broken open, possibly from scratching, and Bill cleaned those. He applied a heavy coat of the lotion and sat waiting for it to dry. He had Chris flip over and went to work on his front. The blisters on his groin were much larger. Bill's hand cruising over Chris' nipples and penis, brought him back to a full 3⅝ inches of stiff flesh. He finished and let Chris dry, but this time he used the canteen to clean the lotion from his hands, just in case.
"Can you do that thing you do with your fingers?" Chris asked. Hot damn, there it was, just what he hoped for, now to play it cool, and make him beg. . .
"Do what with my fingers," Bill asked.
"You know, that up and down thing where you hold my dick?"
"Humm, not sure what you mean. What is it called?" Bill teased. He knew that Chris knew the proper term, but he wanted Chris to ask.
"Please, jerk me off while we wait, you did it four times yesterday."
"Oh, that. And what's the proper name for that?"
"Uh, masterbu . . . master . . . Oh, MASTURBATE!" Chris called out triumphantly.
"Now put that all in one sentence for me." Bill was really enjoying teasing, bordering on torturing, Chris.
"Would you masturbate my dick!" Chris asked desperately.
"What else would you masturbate, other than your dick?"
"I don't know."
"So, adding `your dick' to the end of that sentence is redundant and unnecessary," Mr. Bill said making his own redundant sentence. "Try again, and ask nicely."
"Would you masturbate me? Please!" Chris pleaded.
"That's better," Bill replied and took Chris' penis in his sheath of fingers. He pulled Chris' penis so it pointed towards his head and stroked it lovingly. Chris really got into it and was matching his strokes with his own little thrusts.
"Mmh, mmh, mmh, Chris began mewing between ragged breaths and ill-timed thrusts, each moan higher on the musical scale than the last. Bill knew what was about to happen and carefully cupped his fingers so they would catch Chris' ejaculate. His clean fingers this time, no mixture of semen and Caladryl this time. Chris' orgasm hit him and he thrashed on the bed. His dick gave up three drops, all landing on Bill's fingers. Bill quickly licked the drops off his fingers before Chris had time to open his eyes after an earth-shattering orgasm.
"Good thing we're the only two in camp, Chris, someone would have heard that one," Bill said.
"That was a good one," Chris was finally able to say.
"Here, take your pill," Bill said, handing him the tablet and his canteen. "Let's get dressed and get to lunch."
Bill often wondered what someone else's semen tasted like, and now he knew the flavor of immature semen, from a boy that had only been producing semen for a few days. It was nothing like his own, Bill liked it.
They arrived late for lunch, but Ralph had saved two plates of cheeseburgers, a small salad, French fries, an apple and two cookies.
"What's the weather report like Randy?" Bill asked his CIT. Bill knew the War Canoe trip would only go if the weather was clear through lunch tomorrow, there were only lean-to shelters on the island, and any inclement weather would force the staff to pull off a rescue of the campers. That only included towing the canoes back behind a power boat. But still it wasn't something they wanted to do if they could avoid it.
From the dining hall most of the group went about their afternoon activities. They would meet back in the campsite to gather up supplies and depart to Boat Cove, at 3:00 p.m. Chris and Bill, trudged over to the Health Lodge to see what was the next treatment plan for Chris, since yesterday's attempt hadn't provided the hoped-for relief.
They were on time, but early according to Doc's timetable and had to wait several minutes for him to show. He and his staff arrived letting us inside immediately into the exam room. After yesterday, Chris, knew what he'd have to do and proceeded to remove his clothing.
The Doc joined them and gave Chris a smile for sitting nude on the exam table. Doc eyes already scanning the advancement of the rash, he wasn't pleased the Benadryl had no effect. He sat down and smiled, "Ok Chris, let's see how you're doing." Chris slid off the tables and did a slow 360° turn, ending up facing Doc. "Let me see your back." Chris turned and Doc looked closely at rash, examining the blisters that had broken open. "You've been scratching. Breaking blisters leads to infections, Chris."
"But I can't help it, it itches so much"
"I know Chris, but you need to resist as best you can. Turn around I need to see the other ones." Chris faced Doc again his penis just below eye level of the seated doctor. Doc looked closely at the blisters across his pubis then he lifted Chris' dick so he could check his scrotum, with his other hand, he lifted the scrotum to check the other side of it. He dropped his balls and pulled Chris' dick from side to side. "Ok, son, you can get dressed.
"I don't like what I'm seeing," Doc addressed Bill, "the blisters on his genitals are a major warning sign. 30% of the population is immune to poisonous plants like the ivy, most of us just get an itchy rash, it's a basic allergic reaction. A few, like poor Chris here are more highly susceptible, more allergic to the urushiol (u-ROO-she-ol) oil from the plants.
"You've got two options." Doc told Bill with Chris now sitting on his knee. "You either send him home to his mother for her to take him to their family clinic, or you take him up to Kenora to a friend of mine, an allergist."
"Either is going to be difficult. We came on a bus that won't be back for us till next week."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. You can use my car. I haven't moved it since I arrived three weeks ago, and won't need it again till I make a supply run. It'll be a little tricky going through US customs, but we can make it happen. Whichever you decide, it needs to be today."
"Well, what do you think Chris? Home and your mom's clinic or Kenora and the allergist?"
"Can you get us into the allergist today?" Bill asked.
"Let me quickly verify that."
While Doc made the call, Bill and Chris discussed the options. "But I'll miss the War Canoe trip."
"I think that ship already sailed. He said you need it today, and even the trip to Kenora is an hour and a half each way. Sorry, we can't get back in time. But at least you'll get to stay for the rest of camp, and we have the horse trip on Sunday."
"Damn, I wanted to go on that canoe trip. But I don't want to miss the rest of camp either. Can we do the doctor in Kenora?" Chris reasoned.
"Sure, let's see what Doc finds out."
Doc came in a minute later, "I have Doc Crow on the line, he says he'll meet you in his office, how soon can you leave."
"Give us 30 minutes to make arrangements."
"Ok, I'll have him meet you at his office at 3:30, that gives you 15 extra minutes."
Bill and Chris went directly to the camp director's office. "I already know Bill, Doc called me. We'll put a couple extra CITs with Randy and Ralph; he'll be fine. Don't worry about your boys we gotcha covered."
From there they went to their campsite, hopefully to find Ralph and tell him the news. Ralph took it well and feigned anguish over having to be isolated on an island with 27 boys all by himself, but understood he'd have at least 3 CITs with him. He was glad Chris was getting the help he needed. After his initial rough start, Chris was becoming a friend to most of the boys, even the older ones.
Bill retrieved a few things from his tent and they met Doc back at the Health Lodge where he gave them directions to the address, and turned over his keys to his 1966 VW Bug.
The car was . . . rustic. 22-years-old with 63,000 miles. The exterior was shot from the extreme weather of the north, but the engine ran well, and it got them where they needed to go.
As they drove north on the Trans-Canada Highway, Bill got Chris talking about his mom. That kept them occupied for an hour before they reached the outskirts of Kenora, population 9,817. Highway 17 aka the Trans-Canada Highway was the main drag of town as it snaked through the downtown section. Their directions provided by Doc Wilson were to follow the highway through town. When they passed Husky the Muskie then crossed the bridge, the medical building would be on their left.
They followed their directions, wondering just what Husky the Muskie was, and how they would recognize it. They needn't have worried; Husky was a 40-foot-tall outdoor sculpture of a fish. A muskellunge specifically, better known as a muskie. The crossed a bridge and the next left turn was into the regional hospital and some medical buildings.
They were 15 minutes early for their appointment and suite 204 was locked. They knocked, verified the address, verified that it was in fact Thursday. The office next door confirmed they were in the right place. So, they waited.
At 3:25 Doc Crow arrived and opened his office for his one and only appointment of the day. He welcomed Bill and Chris into his office and escorted them to Exam Room 1 turning on lights as they went. He rummaged through a drawer and handed Chris a small gown. "Remove all your clothing, and put this on. You can leave your socks on, unless the rash is there too. then take a seat on the table. I'll be right back." He left the room giving Chris time to do as he was asked.
"Do I really need to put this stupid gown on? Every time I do, the first thing the doctor does is have me take it off."
The comment amused Bill, but coming from Chris, a boy not shy about his body, it was not surprising. "No, just sit on the table." His clothes ended up piled on the seat of a chair and a nude Chris on the exam table.
The doctor reappeared a couple minutes later, clipboard in hand with a new patient form. Seeing Chris nude on the table brought a smile to his face. Chris told him he could keep the gown for someone who needs it. He collected some pertinent medical information from the forms Bill had brought, but didn't record anything like an address or the fact that he was from the U.S.
"Ok Chris, let's see what's going on with you. Hop down and stand in front of me," Doc said as he sat in the chair on wheels. Chris eased off the table landing on the floor, his little boy dick now close to 2½ inches sticking down, but straight as an arrow, no curvature, but flaccid, just like young boys are most of the time. He stood before the doctor who examined Chris looking through the bifocal section of his wire-rimmed glasses. He had a kind face; the kind you knew you could trust.
He started up near his neck straining his own neck trying to get his bifocals high enough. He lifted each arm and checked his armpits, then his chest and stomach. Looking over his groin he spent more time examining the small blisters beginning to erupt there and the many bumps looking like they were about to erupt. He gently handled Chris' genitals moving them as necessary to inspect the afflicted skin. "Ok turn around," the doctor ordered.
He started at the top again, where the oldest of the blisters were, then moved south. "Reach back with both hands and pull your cheeks apart for me." He inspected the crevice of his butt. A finger prodded the puffy skin of his anus. "Have you been putting things in your rectum at camp?" he simply asked.
Chris was surprised by the question and would be embarrassed, by his answer.
"Remember what your mom told you Chris. Always tell the doctor the truth." Bill reminded him.
"Yes." Chris finally answered.
"Ok, good. That explains this puffy skin. Next time use more lubricant, it will help prevent this." Doc Crow explained. "Ok, you can sit back up on the table, son," the kindly doctor told him.
"The bad news is that you are severely allergic to the urushiol oil in poison ivy, and most likely poison oak as well and poison sumac. Without treatment, in 2 days, all the parts of your body that are red, will be covered in blisters. It was a good thing you came in."
"You said `without treatment,' does that mean you can treat it?" Bill asked.
"Yes, that's the good news. The bad news is he's going to need allergy shots every day for five days. The good news is that the itching will diminish over the next couple days, but the rash will take over a week to begin to clear up. How does that sound?"
"Sounds great as long as the itching goes away." Chris replied.
"Good, we can proceed. Are you willing to give Chris the shots, Mr. Bill, or shall I send you back to Doc Wilson?"
Bill thought about it a minute, they had the other overnight coming up and having to get the shot might screw that up for Chris. He didn't want him missing another major adventure. "Show me how, I can do it," Bill stated firmly if only to convince himself.
Doc Crow went to the medicine cabinet and brought back a glass vile, a syringe, 5 alcohol wipes, and 5 disposable needles. Here Doctor Bill, you're going to give it to him, I'll walk you through it.
Doc Crow slowly talked Bill through all the steps. Attaching the needle to the syringe, filling it the prescribed amount, cleansing the injection site which was up high on Chris' gluteus maximus. Doc even circled the area on Chris' butt that was the general target area. Then came time for the actual injection. Bill held his hands just how Doc had showed him to stick the needle in to the proper depth. Chris barely flinched. His finger went to the plunger and pressed it steadily transferring the liquid into the muscle, then withdrew the needle.
Doc gave him a urine sample jar for the used needle disposal. "When you're done with the five shots, you can just give the used supplies to Doc Wilson to dispose of," Doc explained.
"Does it need to be refrigerated?"
"Just keep it from getting too warm, a bag of cold water or with a little ice in it will do."
"When should I give him the shots?" Bill asked.
"Doesn't matter, just give them about the same time every day."
That was it, all he needed to do. "Continue using the Caladryl lotion for itching as necessary, and don't skip any shots. If he doesn't start responding by Saturday morning, go see Doc Wilson, you may need to come back. You can get dressed Chris or if he'll let you, gather up your clothes and ride back to camp nude."
"Can I?" Chris asked with the sound of hope in his voice.
"No, you may not. We have some time and I noticed a museum coming through town, and by that time we finish there, we'll be ready for dinner, so clothing is not optional."
"Bummer!" Chris exclaimed.
"I also have a box of stuff for Doc Wilson. You'll save him a trip by taking it back to him, supplies for the Health Lodge, mostly."
"Sure, no problem. So, what do I owe you?" Bill asked prepared to pay for the visit and prescription.
"Consider it a gift of the Canadian government. Chris' last name is now Askano, a very common name in this area, with no street address, only that he lives on one of the Ojibway First Nation reservations. His mother didn't specify which one."
They loaded a large box of medical supplies including a bottle of Maker's Mark into the back seat. In town, they stopped at Lake of the Woods Museum a local heritage museum open since 1964. They spent an hour there before Chris got totally bored, then went to a local restaurant recommended by the museum owner for dinner. On their way out of town, they stopped at a pharmacy to get more Caladryl, so he wouldn't have to raid the Camp's supply. While there, he grabbed a couple tubes of KY. He also picked up some more Hershey's Chocolate bars.
Driving back to camp, Chris dug into the bag from the pharmacy. "Can I have one of these?" he asked, holding up a Hershey bar.
"Well, would you rather have one now or wait for s'mores later tonight?"
"Oh, I'll wait. Those are the best. What flavor is this Jelly?" he asked holding up the KY Jelly.
"Not that kind of Jelly. Remember when Doc Crow asked you if you were putting things in your butt, then told you to use more lubricant next time?"
"Yeah, that was kinda embarrassing."
"Well don't take it that way, I'm sure he's given that same advice to hundreds of boys. But that's what KY Jelly is made for. It's a lubricant that enhances the sexual experience by making things super slippery. You could use Vaseline, but that stuff's messy. KY is water based, so it doesn't stain clothing, and washes right out. Try it."
Chris opened the tube and tentatively squeezed out some on his first couple fingers and ran his thumb through it. "Oh, that is slippery."
"Try rubbing your dick with those fingers." Bill foolishly suggested. Bill figured Chris would reach into his pants and play with his dick that way, after all they were driving. But no, not Mesabi's little exhibitionist. He kept those fingers clear of any cloth as he used his little finger of that hand and his thumb of his other to hook into the waist of his pants and push his pants and underwear to his ankles.
He scooted his butt forward on the seat and laid back the best he could. His fingers took hold of his already stiffening dick and slowly jacked it like he normally did. Bill had never watched Chris masturbate before all the way from beginning to happy ending, and when he spotted a truck turnout ahead, he eased off the road into the dirt. "Oh, that's so much better. Why don't they teach this in sex ed?" Chris asked, not expecting an answer.
Now stopped, Bill told him, "Watch what else it's good for." Bill opened the tube and squirted some on his middle finger. "Spread your legs a far apart as you can." Chris didn't acknowledge what Bill said, but his legs came apart and splayed himself open. Bill reached over between his legs and pressed the slickened finger between his cheeks. It took him a moment to find the boy's anus from this unusual position but the KY made searching for it easy. He found it and felt Chris clench at his touch. "Relax Chris," he softly said. Chris did and his finger slipped inside him and was instantly pressing on the little gland. With his slick fingers rubbing his dick and Bill's finger assaulting his prostate, Chris' butt came up off the seat.
"Oh fuck, . . . oh fuck, . . . oh fuck" Chris cried.
His hips did a little a thing that looked like he was having an internal earthquake, then his hips shot up even higher. He free hand pulled his shirt up to his neck leaving him bare from his nipples to below his knees. "OH FUCK! ! !" he screamed, as his orgasm consumed him. "AAAAAAaaaaahhhhh!" he roared as it reached his dick. His voice starting out unusually high, but the longer he roared, the lower his voice got, he must have dropped through 3 octaves. Halfway, his dick let loose with a single squirt that landed high up on his belly. His hips dropped back to the seat; his energy totally consumed.
Bill couldn't let that precious bit of boy juice go to waste, and leaned over, licking it off his belly. He put the VW back into gear and pulled back onto the highway. "Put your clothes back on when you catch your breath."
They were back to camp by 7:30 and Chris took off to get some time in at the Craft Lodge while Bill unloaded the supplies with Doc Wilson. Bill and Doc discussed Chris' predicament and hoped for the best. Doc offered to give the shots if Bill decided not to.
After the Craft Lodge closed Chris came back to the almost abandoned campsite, it was just him and Mr. Bill. They build a small campfire and made s'mores from the new chocolate bars and leftover marshmallows and graham crackers. They made a small fire; one you can sit up close and enjoy the heat of the flames without burning off your eyebrows.
They used much shorter roasting sticks and the smaller fire allowed Chris to make a perfectly roasted marshmallow, golden brown all the way around, no black burn marks, and cooked slowly allowing the marshmallow to blow up to almost three times it's original size. They ate till they couldn't eat any more chocolate.
Chris sat next to Mr. Bill, snuggled in close, their bodies touching, just talking quietly. Bill found out more about his mom and learned nothing of his father. Finally, Mr. Bill asked, "How's the itching, Chris?"
"Good, I think," Chris replied, "at least I hope, I'm not wishful thinking, but I really do think that in the last couple hours, it hasn't itched as much as it did earlier today."
"Well, it's nice to hear some good news for a change."
It was getting on towards 9:30, so Bill asked, "Should we put some lotion on you tonight?"
"Yeah, I think we better, don't want to get overconfident too soon.
They extinguished the fire and made their way to Bill's tent. "Did you realize we didn't get our showers today?" Bill asked.
"Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn't notice."
"I didn't notice. I just realized it."
"Oh, good, I was afraid I was starting to stink."
"No Chris, you don't stink, you smell like Chris is all." Bill pulled Chris tight to his side and kissed the side of his head where his forehead would be if he had turned towards Bill.
Bill grabbed the sheet and covered the bed while Chris took off his clothes. 6 hours later, his back looked just the same as it had in the doctor's office, and that's a good thing!
Bill applied the lotion as he always did and sat on the opposite bed waiting for it to dry. "Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" Chris asked.
"I still have to make a run to the outhouse."
"But you said we could do that naked, and we're the only ones here tonight, so you can walk naked through camp too," Chris suggested with a grin.
He's right. Bill did say that, it would be nice to walk about outside nude, he's missed that ability this week, having to be the `proper' Mr. Bill in front of the boys and Ralph. At home, he would be enjoying the serenity and solitude of his back yard and patio.
He also saw through what Chris was asking. Chris enjoyed seeing Bill naked and playing with him if he got the chance. He was trying to get Bill naked.
`What the hell,' Bill thought to himself and took his clothes off as he normally did after his last run to the outhouse for the night. Chris watched him take off each piece, folding it carefully, and placing it on the spare bed. Chris enjoyed the show, even though Bill wasn't putting on a show.
"Ok, you're dry turn over." Chris, after watching Bill strip just for him, was at his full 3⅝ inch maximum length and hardness. Bill's dick hadn't done anything since taking off his pants revealing his flaccid penis. But after see the delicious young boy, just ready to be eaten, or at least sucked, it responded in kind. As it did, Chris reached out. He wanted to feel it turn hard in his hand and Bill let him enjoy it.
"I like seeing and feeling your dick get hard," Chris admitted.
"Yeah, I already figured that out," Bill said as the first of the lotion hit Chris' chest. "You've done that a few times now." He drizzled the lotion over his chest and stomach in circles, then repeated it on his pubic area where Chris complained it tickled, then his calves.
Bill put the bottle away and pulled up his chair to sit next to the bed while he spread the lotion around, but this time, his hand did not leave any lotion on the boy's dick. Multiple times his hand traveled across Chris' pubis and scrotum, raising his sexual arousal. His fingers or thumb only brushed the stiff little pole, but left it clear of any lotion. After completing the purpose for which they were there, Bill rinsed his hand of the lotion using his canteen, allowing the water to splash to the floor and run between the boards.
Bill brought his hand back up to Chris' little rocket, set in launch position and gently took hold of it between his thumb and two fingers. Slowly he pulled the soft supple outer skin of his penis up the thin shaft. His forefinger slipped up to his glans while his other finger and thumb stopped beneath his little corona. Then he reversed direction taking the skin back to the base and his lose finger rubbed down the glans and slipped over the corona to rejoin its adjacent digit in pulling the skin down to his pubis.
Bill rested the heel of his hand on Chris' groin and moved his two smaller fingers out of the way. The remaining two and his thumb began picking up speed. It went from a slow deliberate jerk-off to his fingers flying up and down the boy's shaft. Chris' thrusts didn't affect much, Bill's hand simply moved up and down with the rise and fall of his groin. Bill's fingers were a blur as his hand was the only thing that had to move as it rotated about his wrist.
"Oh fuck!" Chris called out loudly as his hips lifted his butt up off the bed. Bill leaned over and placed his lips gently around Chris' glans. The orgasm was a big one, as orgasms go. The seminal production wasn't all that much, after all his sperm factory had only just finished setting up production and as with any factory, early production is limited. But it sure must have felt good as Bill let the boy scream as he cummed. Bill trapped the 3 drops on his tongue.
The lotion on his body was completely dry and after Chris could breathe normally again and have thoughts and speech that resembled a 12-year-old, Bill kissed him and said, "Come on Champ, time to brush your teeth and get you to bed. Bill grabbed his kit and together they headed nude towards the outhouse. It was only about 70 feet out and would have been chilly, had their bodies not produced so much heat in the past few minutes.
"Did you suck my dick tonight, Mr. Bill." Chris queried.
"No, I masturbated you, I just used my lips to catch your semen, but that was all."
"I didn't think that counted; it was different from when Pat and the guys sucked me. But it still felt really good."
They stopped at Tent 1 for Chris to get his toothbrush before proceeding to the outhouse and the metal trough. Bill stood at the urinal peeing while brushing his teeth, and of course, Chris had to try it as well. Their silliness complete they walked back towards Tent 1.
Chris couldn't wait any longer, they were almost back to his tent. "Since it's just us tonight, can I sleep with you?" Chris almost blurted out.
Bill paused for a moment as if he was thinking about it. Hell yeah, a naked 12-year-old in his tent with him? Fuck yeah! That could lead to some more fun. But Bill didn't want to seem over anxious. "Yeah ok, I guess it would be kinda lonely all by yourself. We'll stop at your tent and you can get your sleeping bag, keep your toothbrush for the morning."
`Sleeping bag! What the fuck! I don't want no damn sleeping bag I want to sleep with you, not just in your tent. I want to feel your dick against me as we cuddle under your covers, together.' Chris wanted to say out loud, but kept it to himself. `Shit, I guess, I'll take what I can get.'
At Tent 1, Chris gathered up his sleeping bag and pillow, and together they returned to Bill's tent.
Bill had to clear the bed where he had laid out his clothes and a few other things so that Chris could lay out his bag.
"In you go Chris," Bill said holding the bag open. Chris reluctantly climbed in and Bill zipped the bag up. "Good night, son." Chris smiled at being called son, no man has ever called him that, at least not that he could remember.
Bill then pulled back the covers on his own bed and likewise, nude as Chris, slipped between them.
A few minutes later in the near dark, "Can I sleep with you?" Chris simply asked.
`YES! He wants to sleep WITH me. I get a naked 12-year-old in bed with me.' Bill could barely contain his excitement. He lifted the covers and scooted over. The nude boy bolted from his bed and was quickly face-to-face with Bill.
"Can I kiss you Mr. Bill?"
Bill and Chris moved their heads slowly together and their lips joined in a good-night kiss. Bill intended it to be a simple kiss, like one between a father and son. Chris had other ideas and pulled Bill's head tightly to his face. His tongue asked permission to enter, and they locked in a French kiss.
While still a novice himself, Bill and Chris practiced the art of the French kiss that Bill had seen in videos. While kissing, he teased Chris' penis with soft gropes and gentle strokes. He kept Chris, and himself, at maximum hardness but below the point of orgasm, but knew he would eventually allow him to release. The question was how bold was Bill going to be when he allowed it.
The fondling turned mutual when Chris reached over and began playing with Bill's dick. Then Bill rolled to his back pulling Chris up on top of him, squishing their penises between them and allowed them to rub against each other's. The rubbing turned into mutual humping, their dicks sliding along each other's. They couldn't continue French kissing, Chris being a head shorter than Bill, but Bill continued kissing all over the top of Chris' head and running his hands all over Chris' body. Chris was kissing Bill's chest and suckling on his nipples. Bill never knew his nipples were so excitable. Their orgasms built to the final threshold. Chris released his meager drops on Bill's pubis. Bill's dick exploded in a gusher of semen squirting between their bodies making their grinding on each other much easier with the slimy fluid.
Without a warm shower for cleanup, a cold wet cloth had to suffice.
9 more chapters to go. . .
This work © by The_Curmudgeon, February 2023.
All chapters can be found in:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/
consequences-of-strip-poker/.
My other Stories: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#curmudgeon
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