Date: Mon, 9 Mar 2009 15:17:25 EDT
From: GJD18BR@aol.com
Subject: Camp Conversion 6

CAMP CONVERSION
Part 6
Written by Stripscott based on a true account by Nivram

	Tied as I was, my dick was not in the best position for it to be
manipulated by these heartless young thugs as they had discovered when they
had tried to force me to ejaculate for them. However, that time, although
they had manipulated my hitherto untouched private organ for their
pleasure, they had not actually intended me to successfully spill a load of
my personal white fluid. This time, though, they meant business.
	Without seeing it, I knew that my dick had varied between hard and
semi-hard since they had ceased their direct ministrations, although never
quite going soft. I had been unable to prevent a hard-on occurring as they
had pounded my ass with their fucking great cocks as my prostate was
repeatedly assailed sending irresistible tingling through to my traitorous
dick. The photos taken showed it frequently in that rigid and extended
state, seeming to suggest that the treatment was to my liking.
	Nothing could have been further from the truth. Despite many low
points in my 17 year old life, I had never suffered in any way as I did
that night. The pain, indignity, humiliation and degradation all combined
to take me down to my lowest ebb ever, but even that was not as bad as my
loss of spirit. Being unable to prevent those four perverts from treating
my naked body any way they wished and doing to it all the depraved acts
which they could devise brought me mentally to the level of a lewd
whore. Knowing that I was totally unable to prevent their licentious acts
did not help me come to terms with this frame of mind.
	It was not helped, either, by the continual verbal abuse which I
received, gradually eroding any self-esteem which I had left and reducing
me to s shadow of my former self. They called me a cock-sucker, whore and a
cum-dump. They denigrated the size of my cock and informed me that they had
seen 13 years olds with longer pricks and heavier balls. They even offered
to release the ropes because they were sure that I was such a pussy that I
would not try to escape, but continue to lie there and take all abuse
offered because it was what I had been born for. I was, they claimed, meant
to be the tool and plaything of macho men who occasionally like to exert
control over prissy and woosie boys who had no self control, but offered
themselves as a fuck toy and human cum rag.
	Such taunting seemed to mentally exhaust me and it continued as my
semi-stiff prick was again seized, prodded and manipulated. They also
talked dirty amongst themselves, discussing what they had done together and
what they had done with other guys. Somehow, even in my uncomfortable
position, my unresisting state of mind allowed their fiendish hands to
bring me to state of hardness I had not previously achieved that
night. Maybe it was partially because their handling was not as rough as
before, their intentions being different.
	Suddenly almost my entire awareness became centred on my rampant
cock. I became a stretched, rigid pole submitting to the manipulations of
foreign fingers. I had a shiny bulbous head that was becoming
ever-increasingly sensitive. At the apex of this engorged head, was a slit,
a hole, allowing substances egress after their journey along my stiffened
shaft. I wished a particular substance to make that journey, a milky-white
fluid which I knew could travel at speed and which would erupt though that
slit and jet out into the air as if impatient for release.
	And, in the depth of my consciousness, I felt shame. Ashamed that I
was actually allowing myself to derive please from this illegal violation
of my most intimate body-part;  shame that I wanted to accomplish the
desire of my rapists and unload an offering of my most intimate fluid for
them to view and to triumph over.
	"I think he's close," Mike said. "Fuck! His balls are beginning to
throb like mad."
	"I wonder when he last shot off," mused Al. "I suppose he does wank
himself. Or maybe he's a virgin at that as well."
	"If that's the case, then we'll have stolen two cherries when he
cums for us," John remarked, apparently with pride at this accomplishment.
	"You're just longing to show us what a man you think you are,"
called Mike, addressing me. "I bet you think that when we see you cum we'll
think what a man you are, but we won't. You're only cumming because we are
forcing you to. You cum for us and no one else."
	"Get a good picture," said Al suddenly. "Get one with the cum
spurting out of his dick."
	"I'd already planned that," said John. Needless to say, the camera
had been flashing away a lot of this time.
	Suddenly I didn't want to cum. Suddenly I tried to resist, to will
myself to foil their attempts, but it was too late. Or maybe my attempts to
prevent my further humiliation were what led to it because, almost
immediately I started to feel that rush. The spunk gathered; my balls
emptied and the end was inevitable.
	"He's there!" Mike shouted triumphantly. My dick received a
vigorous wanking and I felt myself pump out multiple shots of my jizz to
the cheers of my tormentors. For the first time in my young life, someone
else had seen my cock perform an ejaculation. For the first time I had been
forced to cum against my will. I didn't know it then, but it wouldn't be
the last time. Four pairs of eyes were to witness that sight many times in
the coming days much to my horror and chagrin.
	"Got it all?" asked Al.
	"Yes. That's the lot for now," Mike responded, but his hand still
worked on my cock, which, having functioned, was becoming increasingly
sensitive. As I uselessly tried to squirm free of that insistent grip and
made protest noises into my gag, I saw the other three come to stand in
front of me. Dan held a largish tin lid and I realised that he had used it
to catch my spunk for it was covered in thick white ropes of fluid.
	Slowly, whilst I suffered increasing agonies from Mike working over
my now hyper-sensitive dick, especially the head, Dan dipped his fingers
into my cum on the lid, raised them to my face and began to smear the
still-warm liquid over my cheeks. Al and John assisted him and soon my face
was liberally daubed with my own essence. I cried into my gag, from both
the indignity and the hellish stimulation Mike was inflicting. He showed no
mercy for the next five minutes as I mentally writhed in agony, all the
while feeling the cum dry on face.
	The torment did, of course, have to end and I could not hold back a
sigh of relief when my deflating prick was finally released. I saw from the
expressions of the three who stood before me, how much satisfaction that
sigh gave them and I wished to heaven that I could have restrained it.
	I tried to plead to them with my eyes for an end to all this. I
mentally strained to project my desire for release and freedom from these
horrific events, knowing all the while that I would have to live with the
memory of them throughout the coming days.
	Please I thought out to them. It's enough. You've done everything
you want. Please let me go. I won't tell. Just let this be over and we can
forget about it. I can't take any more.
	The message didn't get through.  
	I watched as hands stroked stiff cocks in front of me and I felt
Mike's fingers spreading my ass-cheeks so that his big dick could once
again gain access to my nethermost hole. The next promised round of fucking
the up-ended and helpless teenager was about to commence. Even as the
painful sensations in my ravage dick subsided, so the agony in my ass was
about to re-commence.
	I tried to withdraw into myself, to ignore the violation of my
apparently submissive body, but I could not exclude the sensation of Mike's
dick-head probing my crack and nudging at the door of my passage. The
nudging became insistent and brute force drove that invader into my inner
regions and I was once again impaled. My pain and despair were his pleasure
and enjoyment.
	To more verbal abuse, I was forced to accept their further
depredations. The gag was pulled out of my mouth, but before I could utter
a word of protest, John's cock forcibly took its place and fucked me in
time with Mike's strokes at the other end. Al climbed up on the canoe and
straddled my back. I knew from the vibrations that he was wanking and,
before long, I heard him gasp out and felt his cum splashing over my
head. After a few moments, his hand descended on me and rubbed his spunk
carefully into my hair.
	My senses began to waver at that point. Mike continued to fuck my
ass and John worked diligently on my mouth. Both ultimately unloaded
themselves into my interior and two more cocks replaced those that were
withdrawn, but I also had begun to withdraw. I seemed to have been tied
over that canoe all my life and to have endured a pain-wracked body for
most of that time. It was the only reality that existed for me and it
seemed eternal. My occasional hope that all was over became extinguished. I
muttered and grunted around a mouthful of solid meat which would occupy my
mouth forever. There would always be something round and long and solid
thrusting in and out of my asshole and I would never be free to move my
limbs again.
	My dick painfully engorged itself again and then relaxed. More
penile liquid was splashed onto my vulnerable body. There seemed to be an
unending supply. These invaders seemed to be insatiable.
	Somewhere on the edge of this bout of despair I was conscious that
each had a further turn at my ass and, indeed, one, I think it was Dan,
impregnated me for a third time. By then, there seemed to be a lessening of
activity. When my mouth was vacated, the gag was reinserted instead of
another prick. It seemed a longer time before I felt the coating sensation
on my insides as the last one finally dumped his seed. There was a slow,
protracted withdrawal.
	For the first time in a very long while, none of the four of them
was touching me. I remember wondering, ridiculously, what time it
was. Perhaps it was a hap-hazard thought which temporarily kept me from
thinking about what had been done to me, but that was with me all the time.
	"I'm done."
	It was Al's voice.
	"I think he's had enough for tonight," agreed Dan. "And there'll be
plenty more opportunity."
	My heart quailed at that remark, but I knew before they told me
that I was now under their control.
	Later the camera would be waved in front of my face.
	"You want everyone at camp to see these?" John demanded. "That's
what'll happen if you don't do as you're told. Savvy?" I'd nodded, my
throat to dry and sore to speak.
	"You say anything about tonight to anyone, you'll suffer for it. Is
that clear?"  
	As clear as daylight I'd thought as I nodded again. I had already
resolved to keep this to myself to avoid the acute embarrassment of others
learning of my humiliation. It would just be another form of embarrassment
to be avoided at all costs.
	I'll never forget the flood of relief as they began to untie the
ropes which bound me, only to be replaced by the flood of agony into limbs
which had been immobile for so long. Pins and needles? More like nails and
spikes. My naked body suffered another racking torment.
	At last, I was free and pulled down from the canoe. My legs refused
to support me and I collapsed in a heap. They stood around and over me.
	"What a stinking mess you really are," said John. "No way you can
go back to camp like that."
	"He needs a wash," Al suggested.
	"Then chuck him in the lake," was Mike's inevitable decision.
	I looked up suddenly to find them all grinning at each other. They
agreed! They were going to do it!
	"Uh... no..." I gasped out weakly. As if that had been a signal,
four pairs of hands seized me and I was carried to the edge of the lake.
	I tried to become more vocal.
	"No. Please. It'll be too cold. I don't have the strength
to... Ohhh noooo..."
	The last phrase was uttered as I found my naked body sailing
through the cool night air and it was cut off as the waters closed over my
face. It was horrendously cold. I struggled and came upright. I could just
reach the bottom and forced my legs to support me.
	I wasn't allowed to come out of the water until I had thoroughly
cleaned every bit of myself. All physical traces of their depravity were
washed off, but the mental scars would not be erased so easily.
	When I stood again on dry land, still very shaky, I was given my
clothes. I pulled on my underpants, shorts and sneakers. The rest I
carried, just grateful not to be naked any longer.
	"Now remember, Stu," a voice said in my ear as a hand groped my
ass, "you're ours now. We'll tell you what to do and where to be a
when. And you'll do it. Who knows? You may even learn to like it..."


To be continued...

Author: Stripscott
Email: gjd18br@aol.com