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One Night Up On Virgin's Ridge
PJ Franklin <>


Do you have any idea the devastation of being fifteen-years-old and still a bed wetter? In those days, one did not tell his parents, one took care of the problem himself quietly and hoped for nobody to ever find out. God forbid another boy find out, especially in such a public place like a boy's summer camp. Talk about humiliation, loss of face or worse.

As it was, my tender mind was on alert and overdrive. Our camp counselor was an older boy of seventeen years named Greg. His official camp nickname was Panther. We called him Paddler instead on account that he had the power to put a boy over his knee and give him a sound spanking if you were lucky. If you were not, Greg's paddle would sear your bare ass and set you to tears and to the wall to stand and display your beet red ass as an example.

I begged my Mom not to go to camp that year, why? Because I knew too much about myself. I knew my "kind" would not be accepted and if found out, bullied and humiliated. My only choice was to go, keep to myself, avoid too much contact and keep my eyes down and not stare.

As it was I dearly did want to at least have some visual enjoyment of the constantly half-naked, scantily clad males around me; but I was not spared the constant fear of being found out on account that Greg's hand and paddle were on very familiar terms with most of the boys in my cabin, all but mine. I soon was deemed a very unoriginal lewd version of the teacher's pet thing, my counselor's "butt-toy."

My eyes and tender senses seemed constantly battered by the sight of naked boy bottoms angled over Greg's knee as his hand rapidly spanked their pert round bottoms. As their tears freely flowed, they would keep their backsides high and perky as each spank found its target. I could never quite understand that.

Did they like their spankings or was it fierce young male pride? Did they enjoy the pain as much as I enjoyed watching them? One thing was for sure, I wished like hell that I was over Greg's knee showing everyone I too could take a licking and keep on ticking. Butt-toy indeed, I only wished.

At night buried safely in my sleeping bag I would work off the day's tensions with my right fist and the day's underwear and then made sure to bury them deep in the cabin's laundry bin before the laundry guys came by the next day. The penalty for discovery of evidence of masturbation was having to wear your soiled undies on your head as Greg gave you a good old fashioned spanking (or worse) over his knee.

Boys know, however, they can tell the outsiders from those of their own kind. I was shunned, not actively, but passively and I took the cues, kept to myself and played the role of loner. I thought I had everyone fooled and I did on all accounts save one boy, Greg.

How did I know? I knew. I saw the way he looked at me and not meanly. He tried to talk to me early on. He encouraged me to open up to him privately even. You cannot imagine the pure misery of denying myself the sheer joy it would have given me to be able to pour my heart out to him, but a passive aggressive's worse victim is the owner, me.

It all changed one night about two weeks in when I awoke from sleep, my nose twitching with an awful odor, one that when I finally recognized, I wanted to die right there in my sleeping bag and be found dead in the morning. I had wet, pissed, my sleeping bag. Worse, the dampness had already cooled and I was shivering though mostly from terror. I was not at home and ill-prepared to take care of my own awful mess.

I did not dare stir nor move as I trembled, tears filling my eyes and all I could do was fold myself up into the fetal position and started to sob. I was in a top bunk and a few long miserable moments later finally realized there was somebody standing by my bunk.

I saw him, but my eyes were so filled with liquid shame that he was a darkened blurry figure. I leaned over and realized it was Greg. My heart fell as I squeezed my eyes shut sure that I would be loudly lectured and the whole cabin alerted to my immature bladder. Suddenly, I felt his arms lift me up still inside of my sleeping bag and he whispered a quiet,

"Shhhhhhh, it's OK Toby" and carried me out of the cabin and all the way to the bathroom without a word between us, me shivering with utter despair still. What was he going to do to me?

When we got inside, he didn't even switch on the light, he gently set my feet on the floor, me still in the bag,

"Toby, I'm going to get you a new bag, this one is trashed. I want you to get in the shower, make it nice and hot and get cleaned up. I'll find you some clean shorts."

I nodded, trembling like a five year old, "I'm … I'm sorry Greg … I … I … " and he put his finger to my lips,

"Don't worry, nobody will find out, our secret, OK?"

I was so relieved I almost started to cry on the spot, but held it in. He pointed to the shower room and I rushed in and found as much hot water as I could. It was a treat really. The old water heater ran out of hot shower water easily during usual bathing hours and I seldom ever got more than warm water when it was my turn.

I felt like a king for just a few moments and then saw him standing and waiting for me, a towel in hand. I was naked and even covered myself up in front as I stepped out and ready to take the towel.

"Hands up mister," he said and when Greg gave a command, you obeyed. I did and then was treated to him toweling me off, head to toe in a way that made me feel like I was the most important boy in the whole camp if not the whole world.

I worried that I would get aroused when he quickly toweled my butt and junk out front, but I didn't, not at first anyway. Sometimes nerves are a good thing, but when he slowed down and more thoroughly and gently dried my penis and testicles as well as right over my butthole, I thought I had died and gone to my own private heaven and then paid for that feeling. I boned up, right in front of him.

He saw it, but said nothing. Instead, he handed me a pair of new undies to cover myself and I did, practically falling all over myself in the process. By now, however, I also knew that he had likely discovered that I had spunked my old undies. I had not been wearing them when I wet the sleeping bag. He spent some time folding up the towel he had dried me with and then stood right in front of me, towering a good six inches above.

"Toby, now tell me the truth, did you masturbate yourself tonight before you wet your bag?"

I shuddered with fear. I was busted and knew it. I would never have minded lying to anyone else at camp save one person and he was standing in front of me. My fear was not telling him the truth, it was how my sensitive body would react once the words came out.

I swallowed and his big paw came up and gently cradled my quivering chin in the room's gentle darkness,

"Yes, I did," I said with more self-dignity than I ever knew I had.

His face became slightly stern, but just a corner of his mouth came up,

"And what happens to Panther's boys when they are caught masturbating?"

Moment of truth, only my penis stole the show. I could not help myself. I was still hard in my new shorts and then a little burst of pre-cum wet the front, pretty obviously. My heart started to pound, hard. My instinct was to cover my shame up, but there was no point was there?

I swallowed hard trying to block the cherished images of hot sexy boy bottoms getting spankings, bare boy bottoms willingly taking each hard spank or paddle swat and their owners bawling with or without dignity.

"They get a hard spanking" I barely whispered so that even I nearly didn't hear it.

"What? What happens Toby?" and then he sat down on a small bench forming a lap and his finger wiggled at me to move to his side.

I was shaking so hard just then that in trying to calm myself I just made it worse, I couldn't move! Greg stood up and came over to me, put both large hands gently on my narrow skinny and shoulders leaned way over,

"Don't be afraid Toby, nobody will find out, our secret, now tell me, what happens when one of my boys gets caught? Are you one of my boys?"

I nodded slightly brighter, "Yes."

"OK, go on," he encouraged me, his eyes conveying something of a gentle determination.

"They get their bare bottoms spanked over your lap," I managed and a huge shiver shot through my being, my dickhead delivered another little dollop of cum to further the wet stain in front.

"That's right. You are a naughty boy Toby. You need a good sound spanking over my knee, don't you?"

My ass cheeks started to clench as he took me gently by my hand over to the bench. He sat down and stood me right by his side,

"I'm sorry bud, but you need a bare bottom spanking. I'm going to take your undies down now," and I stood there trembling as I felt Greg's big fingers do what they had done to all of my cabin-mates, he pulled theirs and now my shorts down for my spanking.

I was now fully exposed to Greg, my hard wet cock-head and all. He didn't seem to mind at all,

"You know what to do now because you are one of my boys. Now assume the position over my knees for your spanking Toby."

I just stood there a moment incredulous that he could ignore my erection and not berate me. The other boys surely would have. There would be raucous laughter or so I thought, enough to humiliate me and me have to recall it for weeks and months afterwards.

I looked down at my erection, my fists clenched, my cheeks quivering in back. I started forward and his strong arms caught me and guided me gently across his knees, but more importantly, as I settled in he said,

"Now spread your legs wide, let's get your penis back where it belongs, I'll help you," and my stomach started to ache in the same way it always did when I was anticipating an extra good masturbation. I not only spread my thighs, but I arched my back so much that I could feel my pucker open to his full view.

"That's my boy, no shame, don't you dare hide yourself from me now," and then his large palm ever so gently and carefully closed around my swollen shaft.

I had seen many a spanking of my mates over Greg's knees, but never saw him do this to anyone else. Then I recalled that our spankings were not always public. We had seen bare red bottoms on cabin mates, but only after the fact of a non-public spanking.

He paused, I was sure to see if I minded his aggressive move. I moaned, loudly and even humped my dick in his palm, trembling, waiting to see what he would do or say next.

"That's my boy," he said quietly, "Not what you expected huh? Want me to let go, stop?"

"No!" I said quickly and without hesitation.

"I didn't think so," he said, "now close your thighs up tight, real tight and keep your bare bottom up as high as you can. Be my proud camper, Toby."

My breathing was nearly so hard it was hard to talk, "Yes Greg," I replied breathlessly. His huge arm then wrapped around my slender waist in such a way that I was cuddled closely to himself and I felt so wonderfully helpless and cared for.

I had done this many, many times alone at home with myself, my hard dick pressed backwards between my closed up thighs. I could easily come that way, not even touching myself and frequently did. The only reason I probably would not now was that I was way too nervous and excited if that were possible.

"Now, you are going to be spanked, hard, just like I would do with any of your mates. If you lose it, shoot your load, good for you."

He started to spank me and he didn't spare me at all. It hurt, just like it hurt my mates and my tears flowed generously and I felt a great, a huge relief of hurt and guilt and just plain felt normal as he sizzled my bottom with his big palm.

The spanks hurt a lot and made me squirm, wiggle and want to kick and complain, but I didn't. When he finished my willy was as small and soft as it could be. I was glad for that really, but it didn't last long that way. He helped me stand up,

"There, start over new," he smiled. I looked down and already my penis was coming back to life at an alarming rate, "What about that?" I said quietly, my bottom cheeks starting a wonderful glow.

He smiled, "What about it?" he said and then got this funny look on his face. I looked down as he spread his big, strong thighs. He was wearing a loose pair of sweat pants, but even those could not conceal his big hard teen cock from tenting his sweatpants.

I swallowed hard and went for it, "Circle jerk? Just you and me?" and then cringed at my own bold suggestion. Why had I suggested that? Would he spank me again for suggesting it?

He grinned, "Let's do it," he said and stood up, dropped off the sweats and there was my beloved counselor, Greg, commando naked. He grabbed his big shaft and I grabbed my smaller one and we started to jerk off together.

Oh God it was great, just him and me like that alone in the bathroom in the quiet dead of night. I kept my eye on how he handled his dick and I copied how Greg jacked-off. Instead of using his whole fist, Greg wrapped only his thumb, index and middle fingers around the base of the penis head. It was cool and the orgasm really strong. We shot our loads together, it felt so good!

"I thought masturbation is against the rules?" I smiled as I put my shorts back on.

"Of course it is, but you're with me Toby," he winked at me. I loved it!

Nobody besides Greg and me ever knew about my wetting my sleeping bag and what we had done in the bathroom that night. A few days later, after getting fed up with being teased about being Greg's personal "butt-toy," I finally swung and connected with the boy's nose. It bled. I got in big trouble with Greg.

I got my ass paddled to raw hamburger in front of everyone, my reputation instantly elevated to normal in the cabin for the rest of the session. No more "butt-toy" ever again, but that doesn't mean that I didn't secretly like the idea of it. Apparently Greg did as well …

* * * * * * * * * *

The girl's camp across the lake was called Camp Creekside. At first I hated it being there. I liked girls to be mothers and sisters and good friends at school, but I didn't want to hear about kissing them and feeling them up and all.

Besides, nobody in our cabin had gotten to first base, second or any base with a girl, ever. They just lied that they did, all virgins, trust me. Greg was another matter. He was old enough to have really had sex with a girl if he wanted.

After my little eye-opening incident with my counselor, I suddenly saw Camp Creekside in a different light and for what it really was. Oh, there was strong talk and messages from the staff from the director on down about being a good chaste Christian boy, avoiding "appearances" of this and that, code for "if I can't get any, neither can you."

Never was this more obvious than our little trips over to Camp Creekside or when they came over to our side. These were innocent dances, socials, so-called mixers, a chance to mingle with the opposite sex. Oh they mixed all right. Female staff from Creekside would sneak off into the night with male staff from Camp Foster. Believe me, they weren't studying Bible verses in some unlighted, unused cabin.

It was then that Greg personally taught me the great value in these affairs. About two weeks after my incident with Greg I was one pent up hombre, but not because I wasn't masturbating, I was. I was just being really careful.

No, I had my eye on Greg now. I wanted desperately to relive at least the spanking and circle jerk part of that one night with him alone, but didn't want to be obviously seen masturbating my way over his lap only to be spanked in front of the guys for it.

So one night after campfire I sidled up to him on our walk back to the cabin through the darkness. I whispered in his ear,

"I want to do it again," I said and winked at him.

"Do what, Toby?" he asked, but he knew what I meant as he quickly looked around us for prying ears,

"Don't ever say that kind of thing in the open again Toby. Patience," he said and then trotted up ahead of me.

He at least had said "patience." I felt chastised and was just that, horny, but patient. It wasn't two nights later though that we all trekked over to Camp Creekside for a social. I was quickly bored. I had three girls ask me to dance and turned them all down choosing instead to watch whatever Greg was doing.

Then Greg strode up holding a girl's hand, one his age, another counselor named Rhianna. She was quite pretty, a blonde as I recall. With them was a cute girl more my age, a brunette, also pretty and no braces. If I liked girls, I would go for her.

"Suzy, this is Toby, Toby, Suzy," Greg said directly to me. He didn't wink, but the look on his face told me, "Take her hand or else!" so I did, "Pleased to meet you Suzy!" I grinned brightly, but half faking it and I could tell she was not overly thrilled either.

I had no idea what was really going on yet, only that we danced, or my version of it for a short while next to Greg and Rhianna. Greg whispered to me, "Follow my lead," and I did. We all snuck out into the night outside of the dance hall. Rhianna led us down the lakefront and then up into the forest over one hillock to behind this other huge rock strewn hillock with tons of fallen timber and debris.

It looked to me like a perfect "make-out" spot if there ever was one. We made out all right. As soon as we got there, Suzy took Rhianna's hand and they winked at us, "Have fun boys!" and then they made off somewhere else, never to be seen again that night.

There I was, alone with Greg. He looked at me, "You've been patient. So have I. If you want Toby, we can do anything here."

I got so excited I almost peed myself, literally. I nodded, "Yes please! But where did they go?" He grinned, "Do you think boys are the only ones that get interested in their own sex?"

"You're kidding," I gawked and then grinned.

"Nope," he smiled and he sat down at the base of a giant fallen tree. My cock hardened in two seconds as I sat next to him, touching knee to knee.

"I don't know what to do," I said, "I'll show you," he smiled and he did.

Greg started to pet and fondle me under my shirt finally pulling it off of me and he took off his. He touched my nipples just a little sending a big shiver though my whole body. I had no idea. He showed me how to touch him in the same ways and it was so hot!

"Ever kiss a boy?" he asked and of course I had not.

Greg patiently and gently taught me how to kiss. I was hooked and almost came just from kissing him. Then we stood and dropped off our shorts. Greg kneeled,

"May I suck your cock?" he asked. My eyes got big, "Sure!" I said, but I was so nervous. My cock was so small compared to Greg's, but as his warm moist mouth enveloped my cock clear down to my pubes, I was in heaven.

Well, things didn't last long from there. He couldn't stop sucking on me and I didn't want him to stop. He took me right to the edge and then over it, me shuddering and twitching with delight as he ate all of my stuff.

"Oh, that was so sweet," he sighed standing up and grabbed his big hard one.

"Can I jerk you off?" I asked. He smiled and nodded, "Sure Toby, that would be great!"

So I got to pull off another boy for the first time, my own Camp Foster counselor to boot!

That night led to others like it, secret ones on our side of the lake and even a couple more right there at the base of that fallen tree up above Camp Creekside after Rhianna and Suzy would secret away.

The best night however was when I finally lost my virginity to him. How it happened is how it should happen to every boy who ever had a crush on an older boy, summer camp counselor or not.

Remember that I had begged my Mom not to be sent to Camp Foster that year? Well after the session was at the end, I begged her to stay, "just one more month." She was so elated for me that she said yes and guess what, I had Greg all to myself for one important weekend between sessions.

"What are we going to do?" I asked him as I stood there watching the big yellow school busses and cars cart my former cabin mates home.

"We're going up to Virgin's Ridge, if you like," he said.

"Virgin's what? You made that up," I replied.

"Sort of. It was where I lost my virginity to my counselor two years ago. It's what we called it. It's a fair hike after a canoe trip to the far end of the lake. Interested?"

Interested? I suddenly became Camp Foster's horny version of Lewis and Clark forging along the Oregon Trail, canoe and all. We prepared gear and took off shortly after the camp shut down for the weekend, just he and I.

We laughed, talked, even just let nature teach us her sounds silently side by side. We canoed and then hiked up the lower end of Mt. Kramer. It was a used path and safe, but we were in no danger of encountering any other humans. When we got to "the spot," he just stood there a moment and I marveled at Greg.

He looked a little teary eyed; but quickly explained that how after he and his counselor, a guy named Jim, had made out to the max, full butt-sex and all, that they had promised each other to get together after camp. They would meet up and try to keep up a relationship and all,

"It never worked out of course. I was broken hearted. He was my first, I wanted him to be my last as well," and Greg then sighed and looked at me, "No matter what Toby. This time together with you is special, it's your first time if you want it to be; but don't ever think I don't … that I didn't love you in doing it, even if we never see each other again."

My chin quivered and I let it, "I won't" was all I could manage just then.

We didn't do anything immediately. We set up our little campsite with our pup tent and then he took me on this awesome tour of a small upper mountain lake near-by. We skinny-dipped in ball freezing crystal clear water.

We sunbathed on a huge rock and yes, played with each other's hard cocks on that rock, but it wasn't until well after supper that evening as the light was fading from a clear sky that that he took me by the hand from our campfire and into the close confines of the tent.

"Why don't we just stay outside?" I asked.

"Mosquitoes," he grinned. I sighed, "Yea, mosquitoes."

I figure we had the moon, planets, stars and yes, the mosquitoes all envious of what then happened in that tent. Greg was fully prepared to help me lose my cherry to him. He was slow, gentle, instructive, even funny and oh yes, so very romantic.

He constantly asked me how I felt and when the time came to do away with one and then two lubed fingers of his up my butt and for me to take the plunge, he worried that I was not ready, that he didn't want to hurt me or for me to feel pain in any way. I loved him for that, but I was ready.

It started out with me on top, he insisted. He said he wanted me to push him inside of me and watch me do it. It was how he lost his cherry to Jim, so I did and was glad for it. God, it imagines so sexy to take a big hard handsome dick up your ass, but not so easy. Pleasing Greg, however, that was really easy. He let me go slow, very slow and we talked and giggled together and finally, after a half dozen attempts, I could relax and he slipped inside of me.

Oh, that was a chore for a few very long moments, but after I relaxed, he flexed himself upwards and very slowly, gently lowered me to beneath him, kissed me, and then he fucked me, face to face that way, slowly, stopping when I got too sore.

Greg took me that night, not once, not twice, but three times in that pup tent before the sun's eternal trip over the horizon finally peeped up over our own newly dubbed Virgin's Ridge.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was all downhill from there, literally and figuratively. As we entered the canoe on the return trip I implicitly knew in my heart that I would never see that trail, that special spot, Virgin's Ridge ever again and unfortunately that proved all too true.

I spent my next and last ever session at Camp Foster with my mates, getting paddled and spanked, secretive circle jerks with the guys here and there and even a couple of short but sweet make-out sessions with me and Greg alone, but it could never be the same.

On the last day of camp, Greg hugged me close and I hugged him. He pecked me on the cheek,

"Never forget me Toby," he asked.

"I won't," I said and then got on the big yellow school bus ride home.

I tried for two years running asking if Greg would be at Camp Foster that year. He never was again. Consequently I neither went back to Camp Foster nor ever saw Greg again, it's just the way life turns out.

Far from me wanting to relive those days now, I just look back on them, smile, even grin and remember how it all started, me a scared boy with a bed-wetting problem one night at summer camp. A really special guy, Greg, my camp counselor cared for me, taught me, protected me and then rejoiced with me and I with him one last night for us both up on Virgin's Ridge.

The End

© Copyright PJ Franklin July 12, 2012

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