Date: Tue, 26 Jun 2007 10:09:59 -0400 (EDT) From: Herb Cat Subject: Ten-Year Olds at Camp Pt 1 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. ----- Wesley Derrick was busy playing with Gino and Bobby in the park outside their projects. Typical ten-year olds, they loved clambering over the monkey bars and chasing each other in a game of tag. Wes was so happy school was finally out for the summer and he could spend the days playing. "Hey, Wes, the big kids just left the court. Let's go shoot some hoops." Gino and Bobby were already running over to grab a basketball. Wesley, one of the few caucasians in the park, got along great with everybody, but his best pals were Gino, the "Italian Stallion," and Bobby, the "Black Bomber." Their nickname for Wes was the "White Wonder," like Wonder Bread. "Wait, what time is it?" Wesley suddenly remembered his promise. "Shit, Guys, I gotta get home. Mom said she and Dad had a surprise for me. It's almost four. I promised her I wouldn't be late. Bye. See you tomorrow." Wesley was a good kid. Sure they were living in the projects and didn't have much money for fancy things, but Wesley's parents had taught him respect, both for them and for himself. As he rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, he wondered what the big surprise would be. He ran to his door and fished out the key that hung around his neck. "Hi, Mom, I'm home, what's..." Wesley stopped suddenly in his tracks. There were his parents sitting on the sofa, but there were also two men sitting in the living room chairs. The visitors stood up. "Mr. Taylor, Dr. Ortiz, this is Wesley. You see, you didn't have to worry about him being late. He's a very good obedient boy. He won't give you any trouble." Then turning to her son, she told him to shake hands with the nice men. Wesley sat down between his parents on the sofa. The men looked nice enough. Especially Taylor, who kept smiling at him. He must have been around 30, a white man with nice dark hair and a well-toned body, from what Wesley could tell, somewhat like Coach Peters, his PE teacher. The Doctor was older, but of course to a ten-year old, all grown-ups looked old. He was hispanic with a sprinkling of gray hair and a belly that protruded just enough to prove he didn't work out as regularly as Taylor. But his face was warm and paternal. "Is these men the surprise, Mom?" Dr. Ortiz answered the question with a question of his own. "Young man, would you like to go to camp for a couple weeks?" Wesley's jaw dropped, then he looked at his Dad who was smiling, and then his Mom. "Really?" "These men have been telling us about their camp, Son," Mr. Derrick said. "This is an album of pictures. It looks like a place where you would have lots of fun." Wesley was still in shock as he began lazily turning the pages. He saw lots of boys swimming, and eating, and playing ball, and riding horses, and sitting around campfires. The boys, different races, all seemed to be about his age. He saw older men in the pictures, too. Not teenaged counselors, but men like Taylor and the Doctor. "But, uh, Ma, when I asked about camp before, you said it was too expensive." Gino had gone to a sleepaway camp the previous summer, which made Wesley jealous. He didn't know Gino's dad was a runner for the Mafia, and sometimes came into a windfall, which was quickly spent. But at least Gino had a father who cared for him and his two brothers. Bobby's dad was nowhere around. His mom was raising four kids by herself. "Well, yes, it is expensive. But these men think you deserve a special treat, so they are willing to pay your way." Wesley looked up from the album at the men. They were smiling broadly. "So, what do you say, Wesley Derrick? Do you want to come to camp with us next week?" "Wow! That sounds super!" Wesley jumped up and ran to the men to shake their hands, but Taylor grabbed him and gave him a big bear hug instead. "That's the kind of enthusiasm we like to see at Camp." Dr. Ortiz also hugged him and asked whether he wanted to be called Wesley or Wes. Of course, he preferred Wes. "Now, there's just one thing," Ortiz said turning to Wes's parents. "Mr. and Mrs. Derrick, I told you before, we need to give the boy a health examination. Routine. Just for our records, you know. Wesley, oops sorry, Wes, would you mind if we go into the bathroom and let me look you over?" Wesley eagerly took the Doctor's hand and pulled him to the bathroom. He would do anything to make this dream come true. "Mr. Taylor, why don't you fill out his health history while we're in here." As the Doctor closed the bathroom door behind him, Wesley could hear the other man asking his parents about his shots, and allergies, and operations, and illnesses. Wesley was in very good health. At school, he had an excellent attendance record. Alone with the lad, the Doctor smiled and sat down on the toilet. He took his stethoscope out of his pocket and began listening to Wesley's heart and lungs. He talked softly and patiently, not like the people at the clinic. He had Wesley remove his sweaty T shirt and examined his chest and shoulders, his backbone and arms. Then he told Wesley to take off his shoes. The floor tiles were cold but the Doctor sat the boy on his lap and gently fingered all his toes and massaged his feet. He asked what sports he liked, and told him he had a fine body and would probably excel in any sport. Then he considerately opened Wesley's T on the floor, so when he stood up again, his feet wouldn't get chilled. "We're almost done, Wes. I just need to examine the rest of your body." Wesley stood still and let the kind man undo his belt buckle and open his zipper. He slipped out of his shorts and then willingly let the man pull his briefs down his legs and off. Then the Doctor put on a pair of latex gloves. Wesley felt no discomfort as the gentle man ran his hands over his ten-year old ass, then gently spread his cheeks apart. But when he felt a latex finger pressed against his hole, he shuddered slightly. "That's ok, Son. I'm not going to hurt you." The man gave Wesley a kiss on the top of his head. "I will never hurt you." His hands then caressed the lad's tiny penis and scrotum. Wesley immediately sprang wood and his face turned red. "Yes, I see that is in good health. Excellent. You don't need to be embarrassed about your erections, Son. They are perfectly natural." The Doctor gently pulled his foreskin back and examined the helmet. What he did next surprised Wesley. So unlik! e those guys at the clinic. This old medical man bent over and gently kissed the end of the boy's penis. "There, now, all done." He popped off the gloves and discarded them in the trash. "I found nothing wrong with your body. You are fit to go to camp." He high-fived the youngster and helped him put his clothes back on, but in so doing made a note of his shoe size and waist size. Then he wrapped his warm arm around the boy's shoulder and walked back into the living room. Mr. Taylor had finished the health form and was now answering the parents' questions. Mrs. Derrick looked a little concerned when the bathroom door opened, but seeing her son's broad grin put her mind at ease. She decided maybe they were doing the right thing after all. Her husband had not shared her misgivings. From that time last month when Taylor introduced himself in the McDonalds mens room, Mr. Derrick saw it only as a win-win situation for all. .oOo. "You got a good looking boy there, Mister." Mr. Derrick was of course surprised when the then stranger spoke to him. Guys just didn't do that in mens rooms. "I'm on the board of directors of a camp for boys just like him. Oh, there won't be any fee. In fact, you can end up coming out ahead. Here's my card. Think about it and give me a ring." That was all he said before walking out of the mens room. Living in the projects, Mr. Derrick was wary of con artists with schemes. But, there were several things about this proposition that piqued his interest. First, Taylor didn't act like a con artist; he didnâ^À^Ùt press the issue. Second, and most important, he remembered how his son envied the Italian Stallion's camp experience the previous summer. And finally, there was that odd remark about coming out ahead. What did that mean? So, after a few days, Derrick called the number on the card and agreed to meet him when he finished his shift at the plant. He climbed into the white van and sat beside Taylor. He had talked to Gino's father about camps and so was prepared with a list of questions. The first was about the counselors. "Well, we don't hire counselors, Mr. Derrick. The camp is run by men who love young boys and like to play with them. The men come from all over the country just to spend quality time with boys like your son, -- you said his name was Wesley? There is a one-to-one ratio, one man to one boy, so we don't need to hire any staff. The men themselves have skills. One is a chef, one is a horse trainer, several are trained lifeguards, we have our own doctor. Believe me, you won't find this kind of expertise in any other camp." "Well, why exactly do you want to do this for my son?" Derrick was not really suspicious, but just curious. "Two reasons. Frankly, your boy is just as cute as a button. That day at McDonalds, I saw his smile could light up a room! He will be a ray of sunshine at the camp. Second, I noticed how well behaved he was. He was all boy, of course, but he was obedient and polite. You have a very fine son." By now several red flags were being raised in Derrick's mind. "They like to play with them." "cute as a button." Derrick had a feeling he knew what this was about, yet it didn't concern him. When he was Wesley's age, (he in fact, looked a lot like Wesley), he was in a Scout troop in New Jersey. A few of the boys, like Derrick, were particular favorites of the scoutmasters. They got special treatment and in return granted the men certain favors. They went on special camping trips where they slept in the men's tents and learned the pleasures of man-boy sex. Later, as a man, Derrick knew some considered this child abuse, and if he was inclined he could have ratted them out, but in all honesty he enjoyed the way these men treated him. Now he saw maybe his son could have a similar experience. "You mentioned something about coming out ahead. What did you mean by that?" "Yes. You see, we would consider it a privilege if you allow us to borrow Wesley for these two weeks. We are willing to pay for that privilege. We know the boy must mean a lot to you and your wife. We hope you would consider a thousand dollars appropriate compensation." "Hush money," Derrick thought to himself. And yes, he could certainly use the money. However, he immediately knew this would be Wesley's money. He would be earning it in ways he would not know until he got there. So Derrick decided then and there it would go into a college fund for the boy. Without elaborating too much, Derrick explained the plan to his wife later. She didn't fully understand all the implications, but she wanted to see her boy happy. So they called Taylor and arranged the meeting with him and the Doctor. .oOo. It was early Saturday morning and Wes and his parents were already waiting by the building's front door for the van to arrive at the projects. Bobby and Gino (and Gino's dog) were there also to wish their friend goodbye. Gino didn't understand why the White Wonder had no backpack. He had a long list of stuff he had to bring to his camp. But they had been assured everything Wes needed would be provided. His clothes, his gear, even his toothbrush. If he had a special teddy or something, he could bring it, but Wes didn't. Wes's dad kept talking to his son about the importance of doing whatever the men asked. That he might not understand everything; some things might surprise him; but as long as he wasn't being hurt, he should play along. That he would find it would be fun. Wes didn't know what the hell he was talking about, but he absorbed all the advice anyway. When the van pulled up, Taylor was in the driver's seat. Dr. Ortiz was sitting behind him, next to a little chicano. Both men were wearing matching green T's, khaki shorts (beltless, with elasticized waistbands) and white Adidas. Wes kissed his parents, high-fived his friends and climbed aboard. As the van pulled away, Ortiz was sitting between the two boys, an arm around each one. They drove around the city and picked up three more boys. The kids, two in the back seat, and three sitting with Ortiz, were typically rambunctious, and quickly became good friends. Ortiz would tickle one or another, and the whole crew would set off giggling! As they pulled out of the city, the boys began to calm down as they stared wide-eyed at trees, and fields, and open traffic-free roads. After a while, a new restlessness set in, as one after another of the boys announced he had to pee. They had left the fast food alley long before, and were now driving through nothing but countryside. So Taylor pulled over by a grove of trees and announced a rest stop. The boys clambered out and set to work watering the trees, as the two men watched with great satisfaction. Back in the van, the Doctor took over the driving, and Taylor was now seated ass to ass with the boys, Wes on his left, two on his right, and two behind. "OK, boys, from now on it's not Dr. Ortiz. I'm just Doc, OK? Everyone at camp calls me Doc. And your big friend back there is Chris, OK? No more Mr. Taylor." Sure enough, now the boys noticed Chris's name was printed on his T shirt, and Wes remembered seeing Doc's name on his. ----- Young Wes is on his way to camp. What will it be like? I bet you have a few ideas. 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.