A Perverse Tradition


This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only.  Do NOT read this if you are under 18 or if you are not an adult according to the laws of your State or Country.  Do NOT read this if you are easily offended or if you are not interested in fantasies involving young boys.  This file contains sexually EXPLICIT material.

This story was not written to advocate sexual activity with minors. 

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Story Codes: (tt/b,  – mast oral anal)


" Have mercy upon me
Blot out my transgressions
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean
Wash me and I shall be whiter than snow ” -M.N.



     Starting from the age of nine, my mother enrolled me in a choir camp reserved for boys. I fit the profile of the angelic cherub – short blond hair, a dusting of freckles on the nose and a pouty mouth from which flowed a hesitant soprano voice. Mom mistakenly thought that I would become a great classical singer. My summers at camp were supposed to teach me how to control my vocal cords. Instead, I received a detailed education on a single subject: male sexuality.
Every year, we regrouped together, essentially the same kids. It was fascinating to witness the subtle physical mutations of my buddies - jaws lost some roundness, budding muscles burgeoned on thin arms and puny dickies dangled a little bit lower from bald pubic slopes.

Of course, the young teenagers at camp also took some volume in the shorts, in their case exponentially. It was a terrible fact of nature for awkward little boys who inevitably had to give blowjobs to the older crowd in order to respect the hierarchy. Because as you can imagine, thirty boys from seven to sixteen left nearly on their own in the midst of mountains and forests will let curiosity and impulses take over.

Between singing classes, we practiced the usual games of childhood: dodge ball and capture the flag. But during the evening, the games became perverted. In the cottages, the big boys slipped grapes between our buttocks. Every kid, wrists tied behind his back, had to retrieve the small fruits with his mouth in the crack of his cabin mate.
Later, the big boys sacrificed a pillow and stuffed our undies with goose feathers. We were abandoned in the forest, almost naked and shivering. The teenagers gave us a minute to flee before they called the beginning of the hunt. The object of the game for them was to pull our briefs down and collect as many feathers as they could. For us, it was to protect our precious cargo.
I remember the terror gripping my soul while I ran barefoot in the dark, chased by rowdy adolescents armed with flashlights. My skin was cold and my breathing shortened by bouts of panic. I stumbled on branches, got up and continued to flee. All around me, white silhouettes of my little mates scampering in the night flashed in my field of vision. They were terrified as well. You could not lose at this contest. Whoever returned to camp without feathers suffered the humiliation of being tied naked to a tree. Anyone waking with a full bladder that night peed on the face of the sleeping loser.


   There was no way to escape the reign of the big boys. The counsellors, outnumbered 10 to 1, had established a tradition a long time ago. Each year, they paired a pre-pubescent boy with a teen to facilitate monitoring. A mentoring program they called it. In reality, the forced marriages were an insidious form of slavery. We had to obey our partner because of his maturity. We took care of his laundry, made him breakfast and acted on his every whim.
The first summer, my mentor was named Francis, a disheveled redhead of thirteen, a kind boy, albeit ugly. Submitting to the will of Francis did not please me. However, the arrangement yielded some benefits, for instance it allowed me to calm my fears on stormy nights. Upon the first roar of thunder, I slipped into his bunk and snuggled in his arms. Evidently, Francis liked it too for I could feel his erection poking my thigh.
I am thankful to fate for having been introduced to sex by this gentle and generous boy. At nine, my knowledge on the matter was minimal. Quickly, Francis undertook to give me lessons. During each moment of freedom, we sought an unoccupied cabin where I would experience the delights of my young body. “Let’s go play tingle games,” he would say. “I’m gon’ana make you cum real good!”
The obsessive adoration of the redhead gave me goosebumps. Nude before him, I became an object of devotion. His warm hands caressed my flesh tenderly. His tongue licked my nipples and my balls. A fierce hunger burned in his eyes. Francis suckled my toes, kissed my bare skin, but mostly sucked my tiny penis raw until I shuddered with pleasure. In fact, I got my first dry orgasm in the grip of his lips.
I especially enjoyed feeling his tongue tickling my poop hole. Francis put his nose right in there. He slobbered on my butt crack. I spread my little buns with both hands so that he could wiggle that big yummy tongue straight into me while he fondled my willy with his fingers.
In return, I grabbed his chubby dick in my hand and shook it vigorously mesmerized by the orange hairs all around it. Strangely, his penis emitted an aroma of cinnamon. I pulled on the stiff rod of my master mechanically, complying with his instructions. "Faster, again, again, yesss faster! No wait, STOP! Ok now, go ahead. FASTER! OHHHH! YESS FASTER! UNGHHHHH!"
The big knob stared at me with its sole eye slightly open. Francis glowed brighter with each passing moment. Whenever his pimply face transformed into a mess of grimaces, I knew it was almost over. The spurts of hot baby juice splashed all over my belly. Seeing the slimy cream erupt from his pulsing hard-on, made me giggle like a girl. Nonetheless, Francis looked at the outcome of his climax shamefully. As soon as he regained his composure, he lapped up all traces of the fertile spill on my flat chest and swallowed it away.
This carnal awakening prompted me to get acquainted with more kids my age, well the wanton ones - Michael, Kevin and Donovan who had the biggest dick I’d ever seen on a hairless boy. We gathered in a discreet corner. We masturbated together. It was an opportunity to exchange sleazy rumors about the other campers. The most persistent one suggested that Chris, a bubbly seven-years-old, was a total slut who let anyone bone him up the butt. I voiced my disagreement. Chris slept in my cottage and I had not noticed evidence to this effect.
Then, during a sleepless night, I saw three big boys enter and shake little Chris awake. The tyke rubbed his eyes. He followed the teenagers outside. I couldn’t deny it anymore. The rumor was true. Without a doubt, the foursome was not going for a breath of fresh air at this time of night...


   The following year, the personality of my mentor resembled nothing of the previous one. Aidan could sing like a god but an unexplained rage inhabited him. The robust boy of fourteen had a curtain of black hair falling over his eyes, a large aquiline nose pierced with a silver ring and a strong chin. Basically, he was the opposite of the insecure skinny blond child that I was.
Aidan abused his mentor power immediately at the beginning of camp. Two or three times a day, he lured me into the forest and pushed on my shoulders so that I knelt before him. He dropped his shorts around his ankles sporting a presumptuous smile, with good reason, because his erection was impressive. The plump member jutted up six and half inches over a big pair of balls.
I had to slurp the throbbing organ or else a slap stung my cheek. Though I strove to lick the head and pump the shaft with my lips as best as I could, Aidan grabbed my head and took control. I was ten-years-old. My mouth was still too small to properly stimulate a penis that long.
Aidan shoved his swollen cock in my throat and laughed seeing me choke. I submitted to his brutal blowjobs, half scared, half excited, saliva all around my mouth. “Ohhh yesss, SUCK IT, suck my DICK!” he ranted. Just before cumming, he would ask me to close my eyes. I felt his seed land on my cheeks and my nose. My face was his favorite target. Well, until he started insisting I swallow everything…
Aidan employed the same ruthlessness to give me my pleasure. His fingers fondled my delicate dick and balls roughly. He crammed his middle finger into my butt hole. I climaxed from the mix of pain and pleasure.
All summer I was Aidan’s little ball drainer. Sometimes, he invited his friend Rodney or another one. I found myself with a big cock in each fist, four eyes on my oral labor. "Yeah, that’s it, suck on those cream lollipops!" they laughed. In the end, I stuck my tongue out. They filled my mouth with their abundant sauce. I had to gulp it down without making a fuss.
Aidan and the other teenagers at camp were insatiable. I didn’t understand why they loved getting their dicks sucked, even less why they spurted in my mouth. I was away from home. I was too proud to complain. Most importantly, I feared breaking any of the unwritten rules of camp would mean being called a wimp. So I did a blowjob to anyone who wagged his boner in my face.
I guess word of my reputation had spread like wildfire amongst the big boys. I’m pretty sure Aidan must have labeled me a 'cum dump' behind my back. It wasn’t entirely false. Before my first pubic hair sprouted I had drunk at least a gallon of semen.
During the last month, Aidan also wanted to bust my cherry. On several occasions, he grabbed my hips and humped me from behind, whispering in my ear, "C’mon, let me put it in yer butt ... just a little bit... all the other kids are nice to their mentors…"
I declined his advances, gave him the right to use other parts of my body. He held my spindly legs together and harpooned his erection between my thighs. Otherwise, he slid his lubed penis under my smooth armpit. I found this method funny. The head poked out and disappeared again and again. All of a sudden, it spewed thick jets of spunk three feet in front of me and I giggled.


   To my dismay, the summer of my eleventh birthday, I was paired again with Aidan. The dark-haired boy threw me a sly smile when the public announcement was made next to the main lodge. Assuredly, he had manipulated the selection process of the counsellors to be my mentor a second time. The tactic was flattering to my ego yet despairing considering I would be on my knees all summer once more…
After a few days of blowjobs, I thought I wouldn’t be able to survive another summer under the yoke of Aidan. The fifteen-year-old boy now had a huge cock of seven and half inches. The ravaging phallus of an adult, thick and hard as a rock, that no little boy could satisfy despite all the smacks behind the head to incite a better performance. I felt helpless.
Noticing my discomfort, the rude teen became more conciliatory. Our relationship turned into some sort of fraternal friendship. He sucked my weenie until I reached a dry orgasm and I sucked his big cock at my own pace until his load flooded my mouth. Aidan treated me kindly from then on. He gave me soothing massages and didn’t address me like a slave anymore.
One day, I accompanied Aidan on a kayak trip to the abandoned shack on the other side of the lake. The wooden cabin was the private hideaway of the teenagers who came to chat and smoke in secret. Cushions, cigarettes butts and yellowed porn magazines littered the floor. Also tubes of Vaseline.
I figured the place had seen many kids lose their virginity. But it did not alarm me. At that point, I had resigned myself to give my ass to Aidan because he harassed me constantly and because I wanted to experience what, according to Aidan, was “the wonderful fullness of a dick inside you”. Apparently, his uncle had fucked him throughout his childhood and he loved it.
I removed my shorts and underwear then stretched face down on a cushion. Aidan bound my wrists behind my back with a shoelace. He rolled my briefs into a ball and jammed them in my mouth. “We gotta be quiet.” he declared. My heart thumped. I began to doubt the promise Aidan had made to go easy. My vulnerable position worried me. I turned my head and saw him lubricate his boner with the jelly. It seemed so big.
His shadow moved behind me. "I'm sure you're gonna like doin’ it in the butt!" he said.
As soon as the pressure of his dickhead on my anus increased, my stifled lamentations resounded in the shack. The penetration was painful and never ending. Aidan had to pull back and start over again to pierce the barrier of my sphincter. “mmmunggh mmmunghh” I bit my gag during the ordeal. When the muscle quit defending itself against the invader, I felt a part of the hot hard mass rush inside me. The radiating pain petrified my body. Tears sprung in my eyes.
Aidan fucked me gently the first time. "Ohhh! It’s sooo gooood! Your little hole is super tight! hhhmmm hhhhmmm yeaah yeaahh!" he mumbled clinging to my waist. Fortunately, the jubilant teen boy overheated quickly realizing he finally owned my ass. Within five minutes, his cock vomited a torrent of cream in my innards.
The following days, Aidan pushed his big cock further into my bum. I began to enjoy it and allowed him to use a little more force each time. After a couple of weeks, I gladly became his little anal bitch.
We observed the same ritual in the shack. We had to hurry so that others did not notice our absence. I undressed completely, except for my flip flops. Aidan stuffed my undies in my mouth. I crawled on all fours while he smeared jelly on his leaking hard-on. The blunt insertion of his cock in my tiny hole made me squeal for a moment. But soon, I looked forward to getting fucked deep and hard.
Aidan always took me from behind. He copulated like a dog, that is to say instinctively and with an unbridled fervor. His untamed lunges meant that sometimes I received just a few inches of hard meat in the can or the whole enchilada. My tensed body remained on alert preparing for the next of his unpredictable assaults. In spite of the crude coupling, the pleasure soared.
"Ohhh Yess! Orghh! Orghgh! Orggh!" he grunted, gripping my shoulders firmly so that I could not elude his fierce cock strokes. “Ohhh, yessss! It’s so good fucking your tight lil’ ass! Yeahhh! Take that big cock, oh yessss!”
I could recognize exactly when Aidan would cum. His cock plunged deeper and his balls bounced on my butt. He whined louder approaching ultimate relief. Then suddenly, his body froze and I felt the hot sap explode in my rectum.

Afterwards, we reunited with the other campers still overwrought from our respective orgasms. Aidan winked at me, his black hair glued to his forehead with sweat. During group activities, my butt crack was wet because sperm oozed from my dilated anus.

Like all boys of fifteen Aidan’s libido seemed inexhaustible. Although I imagine that any teen in the same situation would have also taken advantage of an eleven-year-old blond boy who submitted voluntarily to anal sex. He accosted me daily to tell me that it was time to go to the cabin. I followed him eagerly.
When Aidan had the patience to wait for night to fall, he could take his time, with the assurance he would not get caught in the act. I stayed on all fours for over an hour plowed steadily by his teenage cock. He did not show any restraint. He pounded my ass ball deep.

I still remember the crushing thrusts of his hips banging my buttocks. At times, he stabbed me with his cock as fast as a machine gun firing a round of bullets. The continuous friction on my small prostate triggered fantastic orgasms without me even touching my little woody.


   My voice broke and mom believed it would be best if I skipped a few years at choir camp. I returned at the age of fourteen. Most of my friends of the past were still attending the camp. It was nice to see them again all grown up with a pubescent mustache. In talking with them one on one, I learned that they also had been sex toys for their mentors. Without exception, we all had been sodomized, willingly or not.

At the proclamation of the pairings next to the main lodge, the big boys stood on one side and the small ones on the other facing each other. Looking at the kiddies, I was convinced that my friends shared my thoughts. The tables had turned. We all wished to be matched with a cuty pie, a boy who had a pert bubble butt. And without a doubt, we all anticipated gleefully nailing our first kid.

After all, tradition is a great thing to perpetuate...


THE END     

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