Date: Tue, 10 Apr 2007 10:04:52 +0200 From: Peter AM Subject: Camp Blue Otter 05 As it turned out, Sam and me really didn't have a lot of common interests. He had signed up for all the sports, like soccer and wrestling. Myself, I was more into the artsie stuff. Sam dozed off while I was talking about it, that's how much it interested him. Myself I had a bladder about to burst, I could not relieve it with Sam or anyone else nearby. So I slipped out of the tent on my own, walked the ten feet or so to the perimeter of the woods, and relieved myself on the other side of a big tree. Chapter 05: Off to a Rocky Start Caught without a buddy While shaking off the last few drops I was wondering whether I would have time to sneak off to the picnic basket for a quick dump, but then I heard the banging on the cauldron. The infinite relieve of an emptied bladder gave way to a rush of fear. By now everybody knew the rule about not entering the woods without a buddy and so I rushed back to my tent. Sure enough Matthew caught me. Before I got the chance to slip in he stopped me with a big "Hello there, what were YOU up to?" "Just had to take a leak real bad" I answered honestly, and wanted to get back in the tent to change from Speedos to regular shorts. "Wait here a minute" said Matthew, and walked over to Glen at the cauldron. Glen walked over and asked me "Where's your BUDDY?" "In the tent I guess, he was still sleeping." "So" reviewed Glen, "so you walked into the woods ALONE, by yourSELF, without taking your BUDDY? I thought we had made the rules clear about that, didn't we, HOWARD?" He was right in my face and had read the name on my chest. "Yes sir, sorry sir" I replied. "Name is Glen" returned Glen, and then he called over to Matthew "Get the troupes over here". Glen addressed the group. "Before we go for breakfast we have a little disciplinary action to take care of first. Howard here decided to go on a stroll in the woods, quietly by himself, without any buddy. Now we don't lay down a lot of rules, but the few we do, we expect to be followed. Matthew, want to tell them what we do to campers who neglect the buddy rule?" 1U240 Taped to Sam Matthew answered, "Tape 'em up for the rest of the day." I imagine my head must have been beet red and I felt awful. I had wanted to lay low and not call attention to myself, but instead here I was, the center of everyone's mockery. Matthew returned with a roll of duct tape. "Do you want it on the ankle or wrist?" Glen asked me. "What?" is all I could answer, not really understanding what was going on. Matthew explained, "We're gonna tape you to your buddy, either at the wrist or the ankle, what will it be?" I felt embarrassed at the giggles of the other boys, and also I could feel Sam glowering at me. "But isn't that unfair to Sam?" I protested weakly. "That's how the buddy system works" preached Glen. "When you get yourself in trouble you get your buddy in trouble too. So think twice before getting yourself in trouble." He asked again "wrists or ankles, or do you want me to choose?" "No, let Sam choose" I muttered. Sam kept quiet in protest, but held out his left wrist. Matthew grabbed my right wrist and taped it to Sam's left. "OK guys' says Glen. "This afternoon we're gonna show you the treehouses and do a little cleaning." Treehouses, that sounds interesting, I thought. But Glen turned towards Sam and me and said "You guys have to stay behind. Taped together you'll never make it up the rope ladder." Then Matthew chimed in "Let them pick the berries, they can do that." That's when Sam grumbled "Don't expect us to pick too many berries with our hands tied up like this." Glen agreed. "OK Matthew, better move that duct tape down to their ankles. So Matthew ripped the duct tape off our wrists, taking a few hairs with it, and then tried to put the same piece around our ankles. But the tape was no longer very sticky, and ankles are bigger than wrists, and it fell off with the first step we took. Matthew tore off a new, long piece of duct tape, started above my right knee, pulled it snug over to Sam's left thigh, between his legs and back to mine. Matthew's head pressed against my crotch as he reached for the tape from behind Sam's legs. Between that pressure on my crotch and all this skin-to-skin contact with Matthew, I could not help but sprout a boner, again. Matthew backed off after he finished and everyone there was looking at our tied up legs and my big boner. "Look Howard's got a stiffy," someone called out, as if it wasn't obvious enough already. I had nowhere to turn and could only cross my hands in front of my crotch. "Hey Howard, is Sam turning you on?" teased Frankie. 'Shut up or I'll kick your balls' retorted Sam. Then Glen cut in "OK boys, that's enough. ' Glen's boner speech Glen continued "Howard here broke the rule and now he's getting punished. We don't have a lot of rules, but we do enforce the ones we have. And here's another rule for you boys: we don't tease others about their body parts, whether they be tiny dicks or huge boners. We're all boys here, you are all free to skinny dip, you're gonna see each others' body parts sooner or later, and I want no teasing. Teenage boys get boners all the time, it's only nature. Anyone here never got a boner, then put up your hand." Of course nobody put up their hand. Then Glen told me. "Howard, you got nothing to be ashamed of. There's no need to hide your crotch behind your hands." By now my boner had wilted from the shock and I let my arms droop by my sides. "Now then, anybody gets a boner, that's OK. I don't want to see anyone jerking off though. No I'm not gonna ask who does and doesn't jerk off, pretty well every one does, whether they admit it or not. Just make sure you do it in a shower stall, and not make a mess anywhere else." "Eh, where was I? Oh yes, no making fun of other people's body parts. The Lake Trout are a team and we support each other. Howard here is one of us too, even if he is being punished for the time being. Tomorrow morning the tape will come off and everything will be back to normal. But now let's go and clean up those treehouses. Matthew, could you grab two buckets for Sam and Howard? We'll drop 'em off at the raspberry patch on our way over." The Raspberry Patch At first it was very awkward to walk but soon we learned to march together in step. Sam, me and two buckets were dropped off at a raspberry patch. We were told we could head back to camp when the buckets were full, just not to wander off to anywhere else. The good news was my boner had totally disappeared. The bad news was that with our thighs taped together it was difficult to avoid the thorns while reaching over to pick the berries. We ate the first dozen or so ourselves, and then started to fill the buckets. By the time we were done our legs were scratched and our hands looked blood red from crushed ripe berries. "Can we sit down for a minute?" I asked. Our pails were full and we lumbered over to a big tree, and sat down on the ground covered in pine needles. "What a bountiful harvest" observed Sam. Funny language, I didn't know if he was sincere of sarcastic. "You sound like our preacher" I told him. "You go to church?" Sam asked. "With my family, every Sunday" I answered. "Do you?" "No, my family only goes at Christmas." "Do you believe in God?" "I don't know, maybe not exactly, but I believe in something." "What do you mean?" 'Well look around you.." said Sam. "Huh?" is all I could reply. "What do you see?" "Just you, and the raspberry bushes, and trees, and more trees..." 'Isn't it beautiful?" "Yeah, I guess..." I answered, sounding non-committal, but I had to wonder, was he talking about the trees or about us. "We're all part of it." "Huh?" "You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars" Sam waxed philosophically. "I think I've heard that somewhere before..." "It means everything is connected somehow, everything in the universe, everything in nature..." "Well I guess WE are connected" I quipped, pointing at the duct tape. "Yeah, connected at the hips" Sam laughed. I was glad he was taking it so well, this trouble I got us into. But me, I had had enough. I could feel the pressure in my belly starting to intensify, and I was scared I wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. "Darn" I said. "Sam, we got to take off this duct tape. I need to take a dump real bad" I reached for the duct tape and wanted to rip it off, but Sam stopped me. "We can't take it off. It won't stick back on and they will know we cheated. I will walk with you to the picnic basket. Anyway, I need to use it too." Crapping with Sam The churning in my belly increased as we walked to the picnic basket together. I warned Sam that we had to hurry or else I wouldn't even make it on time. So we started speed-walking together. Down below I pinched down hard to keep a lid on the mounting pressure that was about to explode, but it wasn't easy to keep things shut down while you're taking big goose steps. When we finally got to the picnic basket and put down our buckets Sam asked me who should go first. But I was in too big a hurry to even answer, just positioned myself by the crapper dragging Sam along in the process, pushed down my Speedos and quickly plopped down over the shit hole. Sam was forced to sit down next to me. Finally I could release. The sound was embarrassing, a long squeak followed by a rapid gunfire of puff-puff-puffs. But for a second I actually felt relieved. If it was only gas, at least I would be able to pull up my Speedos now and get out of here. I was just about to stand up but then I got this queasy feeling in my stomach, this premonition of something about to explode. A plug shot out with the force of a canon, followed by a splattering of softer stuff. The stench was overwhelming. Gosh, what could I have eaten? Was it the hot dogs they had served at camp? But if they were bad, then all the campers should be getting diarrhea. I almost wished that was the case. I know it is a terrible thing to wish upon others, but I felt so embarrassed producing this unholy mess with Sam right next to me, I just didn't want to be the only one. Sam managed to keep a straight face, sitting next to me on the edge of the crapper, but I'm sure the stench must have been bowling him over. I would not have thought I would have been able to sit on the crapper together with another boy and keep my pecker down, but when you suffer diarrhea like this, the possibility of a boner doesn't even enter into the picture. Here Sam was with his thigh taped to mine and him staring at my dick and still it remained as limp as a washcloth. Sam could look all he wanted, my own attention was on the explosion below, and the final relief. I'm not sure if I felt worse for myself being in this predicament, or for Sam, for having to witness it from this close, and especially for having to smell it. When Sam looked up from my dick his eyes caught mine, and he asked if he should close his eyes for me. "Forget it, just close your nose" I suggested. Having told him he only needed to close his nose, Sam studied my dick and balls unabashedly. 'Got any hair yet on your balls?' he asked me. "Sure I do" I replied, my voice still tight from the discomfort in my belly. Sam bent down for a closer look and said "Oh now I see it. Guess it doesn't show that much 'cause it's blond - like your head - should have known." I waited a minute or two to make sure the dripping had ended, then stood up, reluctantly. I had this surreal experience of somebody else inhabiting my body, somebody else standing up with soft shit dripping off his ass. This simply could not be happening to me. It is embarrassing enough to be seen sitting on the crapper, but in this state... It was beyond words. The container with paper and hand cleaner was on Sam's sight, and he saw me looking to it. Without me needing to say anything, he handed me the roll of toilet paper. I ripped off an arm's length of paper, bunched it up into a wad and started to wipe my ass. I couldn't remember ever having been this messy. I had to repeat the exercise three, four times before the paper finally came back pretty clean after wiping my ass. All the while Sam was sort of looking and not looking at me, just stared into space, glancing over once in a while to see if I was done yet. Then as I was about to pull up my Speedos, he mumbled something. "What!?" I asked, not being in the best mood, I must admit. "You uh, you missed.... Here, try some of this down there." and without he handed me the pump bottle of waterless hand cleaner. This is all I needed. It was embarrassing enough having to wipe my shitty ass tied to Sam, without him observing I missed a spot. But maybe the soap was a good idea, anything that would help with the smell. I pumped some of that alcohol-based cleaner into my hand and then smeared it on my ass. It felt cold. I inspected the wad of toilet paper after I had wiped my ass again and sure enough, that wet cleaner had lifted off some more poop, turning the paper light brown. So I repeated the procedure. I didn't think I had ever in my life needed so much time to clean my behind. This had to be the most embarrassing moment of my life. The only thing that could make it worse, I realized, would be if had sprouted a boner while I was naked and shitty like this. Gosh, why was I even THINKING this? The mere mental mention of a boner was enough to raise my pecker. Sure enough, it was starting to swell and raise up a little. This was the coup de grace. I wanted to sink through the ground, dead or alive, it didn't matter. Don't think about boners, don't think about boners, I repeated frantically inside my head. But of course you always think about the very thing you don't want to think about it. I had to think of a distraction, tried to think back of horror movies, of graphic scenes of blood and gore in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It didn't work. Movies just weren't real enough. I needed something more convincing to put into my head, something real. I thought back of my own visit to the dentist, only two weeks ago, about the very real pain of that needle getting pushed into my jaw, the even worse pain of the drill because the freezing wouldn't take, the agony of yet another needle, and then my swollen tongue, my swollen nose, my swollen everything. There I went again, thinking of swollen members. Was there nothing that could put boners out my mind? My dick was starting to rise dangerously close to the horizontal. I needed pain, real pain, to distract me, preferably something that wouldn't maim me permanently. Back to the movies. I remembered an actress in a TV interview, saying she pulled her nose hairs when she needed to cry in front of the camera. Well I had to try something. I fumbled for a nose hair. Whooh! Did my fingers ever stink! Sam must think I've gone mental. Well I tried to make it look natural, like I was simply picking my nose. Actually that wasn't a pretty picture either, wiping my ass and picking my nose at the same time. How could Sam possibly tolerate being tied to a dirty imbecile like that? I gave up on the whole exercise, just pulled up my Speedos to hide my growing member, whether my ass was clean enough yet or not. Safely covered up, my heart rate slowly returned to normal, and I was able to wash my hands with copious hand cleaner without shaking too much. "You said you needed to go too?" I asked after I finished wiping my hands, but my throat was so constricted, Sam couldn't understand a word. "Come again?" he asked. Breathe, I told myself. I cleared my throat. Control yourself. Then, trying to sound perfectly casual, I repeated "You gotta go?" "Oh, yeah, right" answered Sam, and we shuffled over so that Sam could position himself over the shit hole now. He pulled down his shorts and we sat down again. Sam had a big fat, but limp penis. His black pubic hair showed up much more prominently than the light fuzz on my own balls. It occurred to me that bad as things were, I COULD have been worse still. If I had not made it to the crapper on time, and had exploded with all that diarrhea into my Speedos, Speedos which I could not take down lower than the duct tape above my knee, that would have been a worse mess yet. The thought of that was almost horrible enough to settle my pecker. Sam laid his forearms on his lap, and bent over forwards, straining to push something out, while I stared down his naked back and ass. I had never studied a boy from this close-up before, and certainly not naked. Buttocks can be fascinating when watched from different angles, I decided. After a few plop-plops Sam sat back up, affording me a better view of his equipment. He saw me looking him over, and asked 'Never seen someone take a crap before?' There was not a hint of accusation in his voice. He just asked me in casual, conversational matter. It was a relief that we were still on speaking terms, that he still considered me a regular human being, even after the shitty display I had just gone through. I tried to sound just as casual as Sam, as I answered. "No, have you?" 'Well there's Jazz of course, we share the bathroom all the time. In the morning I brush my teeth while he sits on the toilet, and then we switch. And then there' s my cousin Willie, he don't even need a toilet. When we're swimming in the creek, he'll just run in the cornfield and squat and crap just like that. And then he just jumps back in the creek to rinse his ass. Speaking of which, will you hand me some paper?' and with that we both got up. I started to unroll the toilet paper, but Sam told me to start him off with just two squares. Hence I tore off only two squares, and handed them over. Sam folded them together, and then folded them again. "I like how carefully you fold those, like Origami" I quipped. Sam didn't react to my commentary, but wiped his ass once, inspected the paper, saw that it was clean, and pulled up his pants. I handed him the soap next. "Did you ever join your cousin Willie for a crap?" I asked. 'No, I've just watched him through the corn rows. I peed with him though. One time he peed right in the creek and I said that's gross, now I hafta swim in that. So he asked, what do you want me to do, pee in the air? And he aimed right up high. After that we had some contests who could pee the highest and who could pee the furthest.' "Who won?" I asked. 'Don't remember, we did it enough we each must have won at different times'. We picked up our buckets and headed back to the tents. Berries and Supper Returning to our tent site we set the buckets down on the picnic table and sat. We had already eaten enough berries while picking them and anyway I would have felt guilty to put my hand in the food after that messy episode on the crapper. I didn't know how I had survived that embarrassment. "Sam?" "Yeah?" "Thanks for not giving me a hard time about that mess at the picnic basket. Gosh, I have never felt so embarrassed in my life." "Don't sweat it." "You won't tell anyone anything, will you?" "Of course not, it's private. And besides, we're buddies." "I'm sorry I got us tied up like this." "Yeah, well don't sweat it. A year from now we'll laugh about it." "You think so?" "Yeah sure. When you look back it is kinda funny. You were so embarrassed you could shit your pants." "Hah, hah" I answered, without enthusiasm. But then I asked "How about you, what was the most embarrassing moment in your life?" "Oh, I've had some doozies." "Can you tell me?" "No, not now, maybe later" Sam answered, as we heard the noise of the returning campers. They noticed the raspberries as once, sat down with us at the table, and dove into the food. Harry, the always happy blue-eyed blond, sat next to me and started talking a mile a minute, about the three treehouses they had cleaned and the gross dead things they had found. The others joined, each trying to outdo the other with their horror stories. They told us we were the lucky ones, going to the raspberry patch. "Oh yeah? Look at all the scratches we got on our legs," retorted Sam. They looked, and Harry asked me "You always wear Speedos?" "Well they're kinda stuck on me now" I said, pointing to the obvious duct tape. "No, but I mean, just in general." "I'm on a swim team and always wear Speedos swimming," I replied. When I'm not swimming I usually wear regular shorts." I wasn't sure why Harry asked the question, and the answer seemed obvious enough, but sometimes the easiest thing is to just state the obvious. "What do YOU wear when swimming?" I asked in turn. "Anything", he said. "Swim trunks, shorts, underwear, nothing if I'm all by myself." "You're not allowed to swim by yourself here" I observed. "I know" he replied, and took another handful of raspberries. With a horde of campers and two councilors digging in, a whole afternoon's worth of berry picking disappeared in less than fifteen minutes. "Now that we've had our appetizer, lets head out for supper" said Glen. Back at the main base we were served lasagna, milk and chocolate cake. Some of the guys complained about the food, but I thought it looked pretty good, only I was too scared to eat just now. While at the base, Glen picked up our activity roster. After returning to the Clearwater tents, Glen posted the activity roster and laid out our day schedule. "What doesn't kill me makes me stronger" Friedrich Nietzsche wrote back in the eighteen hundreds. Well Howard survived the worst embarrassment of his life. Will it make him stronger? Thanks for your kind comments to kanopeer@checkjemail.nl