Date: Thu, 26 Jul 2007 16:13:29 -0400
From: J.J. <jjanicki@bellsouth.net>
Subject: The Naked Amazon Headhunter and the Missionary

Warning: This story contains sex between minor boys. If you live in a city
or county or state or country or whatever that has a law against
fantasizing or remembering how it was or actually doing it, OR if you don't
happen to be old enough to do any of the above, I'm sorry, but go away.

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of any character to any
person living or dead (aside from myself who wishes to remain anonymous) is
purely unintentional. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.


My foster-father is a fundamentalist minister, so from an early age I knew
all about sin and Hell. If you sinned and didn't repent before being run
over by a train or something, you would end up there. For eternity. And
Hell was not a place where they just made you watch "Loveboat" reruns over
and over, it was WORSE. So I didn't want to go there. Only in my case there
seemed to be an awful lot of ways to sin. It's difficult to feel saved when
you're getting a belt on your bottom. Because I forgot. Because I didn't
pay attention. Because I put it off when he said to do it right
then. Because I was I put a church bulletin on the heater so I could watch
it turn brown and curl up, but it caught on fire. That was a big one.

In the second grade when my teacher told my folks I enjoyed reading so much
I sometimes neglected to do my other school work, they thought it was kind
of funny. But at some point in the third grade it ceased being funny and by
the fourth grade it was a nightmare. I think from that point on I felt like
I was headed straight to Hell almost ALL of the time. At least up until I
was twelve and decided I didn't believe in it any more. Now if I could just
convince that little kid deep inside of me... well, I'm still working on
that.

But one of my BIGGEST stumbling blocks was simply keeping my damn clothes
on. It wasn't that I was an exhibitionist; actually at first I'm very shy
about undressing in front of anyone else; but whenever I was by myself, if
I had a chance I would take off as much as I figured I could get away
with. For a long time I tried to convince myself it WASN'T a sin if nobody
even saw me, but the way my folks reacted it soon became very apparent that
they felt differently. Like the time I was playing under the house and
decided to take ALL my clothes off and then my mom started calling me and
became more and more insistent as I frantically tried to get my damn
clothes ON until finally I just gave up. She'd just reached "J.J., if
you're not on this porch before I count to five I'm going to blister your
little bottom!" and I tore off. Stark naked. So I made it to the front
porch before she got to five, but she STILL blistered my bottom.

So after that I was more cautious, but still, if the opportunity presented
itself, I got naked or at least as near naked as I could. I just liked the
feeling. But this was always by myself. We lived in eastern North Carolina
then. Out in the country. So there really weren't that many people around.

During the summer I could get away with wearing just soccer shorts. I
didn't even have to bother with a shirt. Well, of course I had on
underwear, but if I was by myself and could get far enough away from the
house, I'd take my undies off too. It felt cool. Not to mention sort of
breezy. I was a scrawny little kid and those shorts made my legs look like
match sticks. But I just liked the way my dick moved around. Only at 11 it
often caused sort of a strange tickling feeling. I would be noticing how it
felt wiggling around, then it would start tickling and making a little
tent. I would pull one leg of my shorts up and let it look around while I
was walking through the woods. Or turning cartwheels. Whatever. And of
course I'd be looking at it too. It was cool watching it get longer, from
around two inches to almost three and a half inches and pretty soon it
would be sticking almost straight up. But aside from just letting it get
hard, I hadn't done much with it. Sometimes I'd push it down and let it pop
back up a few times, but at that point in my life I really didn't know much
about it.

Like for example, about a month before my old man came in on me just as I
was getting out of the shower. And it was sticking out then. But it just
happened, that's all.

But he asked me, "Why's your thing sticking out like that?"

So I told I didn't know why. And really, I didn't.

But of course he wondered if I'd been playing with it. And again I told him
the truth, which was that I didn't even know what he meant. Apparently I
was fairly convincing, because he let it go. Although he did tell me that
I'd better hope he never CAUGHT me playing with it, because if he DID, it
was going to be too wet to plow. So I guess he sort of put the idea in my
head, even though I'm sure I would have gotten around to it sooner or later
anyway. But after that I DEFINITELY wasn't letting anybody know about me
taking off my underwear and making it stick up, not even my best friend
Kelly. It was my secret. At least until the fateful day I picked up Sister
Cox's car keys.

I guess I did, anyway. I don't remember doing it, but it is true that I had
a bad habit of daydreaming and when I did I would sometimes pick up things
absentmindedly without realizing it and fidgeting with whatever it was I'd
picked up. Anyway, she was visiting us one afternoon. So I have no idea why
she put her car keys on a table in the hallway in the first place, but I
guess I picked them up. Then about an hour later I was out by myself in the
woods not too far from our house bombing the living hell out of a milk weed
with rocks. Only it really wasn't a milk weed. It was a fortress. I'd bomb
awhile, then I'd stop for an on-the-scene report from the Assyrian's point
of view. (Or whoever. Assyrian would be a pretty good guess, though.) Well,
they were just ab-so-lutely PETrified. Well good! And they had thought
themselves invincible. Yeah, right. They had no IDEA what bad really was!
Then I'd look down at my dick sticking out from under my hiked-up shorts,
right out in the open, (and it did look pretty fierce) then I'd cut loose
with an even deadlier barrage. Only just when all seemed lost for the
Assyrians, the bombardment suddenly stopped. It was a miracle!

The miracle turned out to be my old man, who dropped by to inquire about
Sister Cox's car keys. Did I have any earthly idea how they ended up in the
refrigerator? At least that was what he was wondering first as he was
walking up, but then he could not HELP but notice me fearfully looking back
at him turning red as a beet, all the while keeping my back turned as I
vainly tried to make myself a bit more presentable. I swear, that HAS to be
the stupidest thing I have ever done in my entire life! Which is really
going some. There were my discarded undies laying on the ground in plain
view and to make matters worse, my thing was sticking up. Not out like when
he saw it before, straight UP. And it would NOT go back down.

But of course he noticed my fearful expression and how I was keeping my
back to him, so he asked, "What are you DOING?"

"I'm SORRY!" I wailed.

"I ASKED you what you are DOING! Turn around and look at me!"

And so reluctantly I did. With my hands clutched in front of my tent. But
of course I knew it was all over, I was already starting to cry.

He looked stunned. Almost speechless. And very angry. He went, "J.J.,
what.." then he noticed my discarded undies. Then he became ominously
calm. He picked them up.

"These yours?"

"I... I.."

"You've been PLAYING with yourself, haven't you?"

"NO! I just-"

"Move your hands."

Only I couldn't.

So of course he moved them for me. Then he SPUN me around, YANKED my shorts
down, RIPPED his belt off and got right to it.

It was the worse whipping I could ever remember. And that was even before
Kelly walked up on us. My soccer shorts down at my ankles, my old man
beating the living shit out of me and HE walks up. Couldn't he tell
something bad was going on? Why didn't he just stay away? Shit, I never
even told him I got whipped. Now he knew. He knew everything. But at least
that ended the whipping until we could get to the house. Where of course it
resumed again, but miraculously it didn't last much longer. I was
surprised, really. I thought he was going to just about KILL me. But no, he
just yanked my shorts down again to see if my thing was still up; which it
wasn't; it had practically gone into hiding; then I had to turn around,
bend over and grab my ankles and WHAP WHAP WHAP some more. Usually I just
shut my eyes and gritted my teeth till it was over, but this time for some
reason I had my eyes open. So I was looking back between my legs watching
it jiggle and bounce and I will be a son of a bitch if it didn't start
getting STIFF again! If he had turned me BACK around... I don't even want
to think about it. But fortunately he didn't. Possibly because WHAPETY
WHAPWHAPWHAP and I lost my balance and ended up face down in the floor. So
huffing and puffing he gave me a few more belts, then he threw my
underpants at me, told me to put them on and he'd better never catch me
without them on again and that was that. And yes, my thing was still hard
when he slammed my door behind him. But no, I didn't play with it at that
point. I might not have any common sense, but I'm not a fucking idiot.

So. About two days later Kelly found me out in the woods feeling sorry for
myself and he said he was sorry and it really made him feel bad, so before
long we'd made up. It felt so good being best friends again it was almost
worth the whipping. But one thing he said was that he always hated it when
HIS father whipped him like that... with his.. pants and everything down,
and if I got a funny feeling in my groin about then, whose fault is it
anyway?

(If you want to know the truth though, I don't think his father ever
whipped him period. I heard him get yelled at, and I was scared, but I
think that's as far as it ever went. Well, he got grounded a couple of
times and that made me feel bad too seeing as how I had a fairly vivid
imagination, but ANYway, I really DID appreciate his trying to make me feel
better. I think I loved him.)

Oh, and one other thing before things start getting interesting. You know
that thing about not hardly ever feeling like I wasn't on my way to Hell?
Well, it went a little deeper than not doing my homework or running around
without my underwear on. I was having a lot of disturbing thoughts about
Kelly. He cussed. Who do you think taught ME to cuss? He hardly ever went
to church. Because his parents didn't think it was necessary. So he
(mostly) did what his parents told him to do. Which is exactly what the
Bible SAYS you're supposed to do, by the way. I didn't much care for going
to Hell myself, but yeah, I guess at times I figured I deserved it, only
Kelly DIDN'T. No way. He was my friend. I loved him. Which is probably why
I don't think I ever felt redeemed again, no matter how hard I tried,
because there always was one thing I could NEVER accept.

ANYway, we sat there for a few minutes silently being best friends, then
Kelly cleared his throat and asked, "Does it still hurt?"

"Not very much. It'll be ok."

"Well... if you want me to, I can give you a rubdown. I bet that'll make it
feel better. You want me to?"

I think it was that sort of funny hitch in his voice which was causing that
tickling sensation in my groin. I'd never heard it before, not from
anybody, but right away I KNEW something interesting was afoot. Only I had
no idea exactly what it was.

"What do you mean, rubdown? What do you have to do?" I wondered.

"Well see, I found this book. My dad has it is his room. And sometimes
people give each other rubdowns, you know, they rub all over everywhere and
it's supposed to feel real good. So you want to try it?"

Nobody ever touched much in my family. Which I guess is why at times I
still have difficulty touching anyone else and also is why it feels so damn
good to do it. So I was interested. "I don't know. What do you have to do?"

"We'll do each other, ok? I do you, you do me. You know, rubdown."

"Well, ok, what do you DO?" I really wasn't sure.

"Well.... ok, well, first you got to take off your clothes" and with that,
he looked over at me sort of cautiously.

I'm fairly sure I blushed. "You mean EVERYTHING?"

Kelly looked down at the ground and answered, "Well, the ones in the book
didn't have on anything. ... But they said it felt real good."

So right then I was sure I wanted to see that book, but I wasn't too sure
about taking my clothes off. Because like I said before, I'm shy. And he
hadn't ever seen me naked before. That's what I was thinking. But of course
I hadn't ever seen him either. And I HAD been having some thoughts at night
about maybe us running away sometime and living out in the jungle and
saving each other's lives a few times and not ever wearing any
clothes... only I wasn't sure I could do it right at that very moment. But
then it hit me. He'd ALREADY seen me. When I was getting whipped. Bet my
thing was bouncing around like crazy, and he SAW it!

So I took a deep breath and said, "Well, you go first and I will."

"Take my clothes off?"

"Yeah. And then you rub me down. Then I will you, ok?"

"You promise?"

"Promise."

So we studiously took our shoes and socks off, he stood up, shrugged,
hooked both hands under the waist band of his shorts, jumped and yanked
both his shorts and his undies almost completely off before hitting the
ground again. Almost, but not quite, as they snagged on one foot and he
stumbled, but then with another hop and a giggle they were off.

"Shit, I got a boner" he said. Then he turned and looked at me
expectantly. It was my turn. (Neither of us was wearing a shirt that day.)

"Yeah, I think I got one too" I allowed. Then real fast like, not giving
myself any more time to think, I pulled MY shorts and undies down to about
my knees and then took a peek down. Yep, that was a boner all right. And it
sort of tickled.

For about a minute we just looked at each other. Kelly was every bit as
skinny as I was and about the same height. He had black hair and was very
brown except for where his swim trunks had been. His penis wasn't much
bigger around than my index finger and about three inches long. It was
reared up nearly parallel with his lower abdomen, angling slightly to the
left.

I was blonde. My face, chest and legs were browned from the summer sun, but
from my waist down to maybe about two-thirds above my knees I was almost
milky white. My penis was fatter, slightly bigger around than my thumb and
like I said, about three and half inches long. And was standing almost
straight up as well of course. (So really, neither of us looked terribly
unusual and it seems almost a waste of time to bother describing it all,
but I DO like recalling it.)

Finally he wondered, "So you want me to rub you down, right?"

Well, of course. So I got on my stomach, he straddled me and went to
work. It felt very nice and sent shivers down my spine, down my legs, down
to my toes and back up to my groin. Nothing MAJOR, just nice little shivers
which were slowly feeling better and better. Especially when he started
rubbing my butt. I sort of felt like I needed to pee. Right down my crack
he went. Damn, that felt good! Then on down my legs and I didn't feel like
I had to pee quite as bad. Then finally he turned me over. His penis was
still very erect and occasionally seemed to twitch ever so slightly. And I
wasn't entirely sure, but sometimes mine seemed to twitch a little as
well. I had never felt anything like this. Slowly down my chest he worked
his inexperienced hands. Down to my tummy. It tickled. My breath
quickened. But darn it all, he detoured at my midsection! Went right around
it! On down my thighs he went, down my legs, on to the soles of my feet,
then with a flourish he said, "Well, I guess that's it!"

It was? Pointing between my legs I asked, "Well, what about there?" I tried
to make it sound like I was only joking, but I really wasn't.

"You'll do the same?"

"Sure" I said.

So he grabbed my penis and pulled back on it like it was a little gear
shift lever and it felt like an electric shock. A very pleasurable
shock. Then he started twisting it around. Still sort of like he was
shifting gears. And this INCREDIBLE feeling was starting to shoot through
my WHOLE BODY almost but just as he was about to go into high gear I
lurched up to a sitting position, grabbed his hand and blurted, "Whoa! TIME
OUT!" Damn! He just about made me pee all over both of us!

"`Bout made you pee, didn't I?" he said knowingly.

"Yeah!" I said breathlessly.

"So now you know why I didn't bother it, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess so" I said sort of sadly.

And sooo, he got on HIS stomach and I rubbed HIM from head to toe. I
particularly enjoyed rubbing his butt and down his crack, and he seemed to
enjoy it quite a bit as well, but then anticlimactically he decided HE was
about to pee before I even FINISHED with his butt. And I hadn't got to his
front PERIOD. I was a bit let down.

But oh well, if the genie wasn't out of the bottle, the cap was very
loose. In fact, I was THINKING about making myself pee that very night. I
mean I went to the bathroom to pee all the time, right? So ok, I'd just
give myself a boner first then I'd make myself pee, that's all. Except
naturally I was awfully worried about being found out and I REALLY wasn't
even sure what was going to happen. What if I passed out and peed on the
floor? Since up till then the best pees had always been the ones where I
had to go real bad and I always peed for a pretty long time when it was
like that, how long would it last THIS time? Could be for about an hour or
so. That's an awfully long time to pee without my old man coming in to see
what I'm doing. So no, there was no way I could risk it. Darn! Only right
about then I suddenly had an idea, and I couldn't hardly wait until the
next day.

Only the next day I found out I had to hoe the garden.

Kelly called about nine. He sounded excited. And slightly mysterious. Could
I come over?

No, I had to hoe the garden.

"Well, is it ok if I help you? That way, we can goof off this afternoon,
right?"

Well, whatever it was he wanted to show me, it must be pretty good I
thought, because best friend or not, he didn't like work. And of course I
had something I wanted to tell him about too. That idea of mine. Only my
idea was more like a devious scheme that I wasn't going to tell him about
till later on after it worked. Which it just might.

So anyway, shortly afterwards he was helping me. It made me feel all warm
inside. Kelly was actually helping me hoe the garden! We worked in silence
for awhile, (I could tell he was being mysterious and wasn't going to say
anything about whatever it was he wanted to show me till later), so finally
I began to hatch my plot. (I was fairly sure whatever he was going to show
me was related to what happened the day before, but I still liked my
scheme.)

I said, "This afternoon? You want to play Indians?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Then I added, "Amazon headhunters".

Kelly hoed in silence for about a minute, then he remarked, "Most Amazon
headhunters don't wear any clothes."

"Nope. Not anything. So what do you think?"

"Let's hurry up and get this garden done!"

Then a little bit later he added, "But let's make like we're capturing each
other and like if one of us gets captured, then the other one gets to tie
him up and all, ok?"

Sometimes it seemed almost like we could read each other's minds.

Nothing much more was said for several minutes, then Kelly said, "Well, why
don't I be a headhunter and you be a missionary?"

"Well, missionaries always wear clothes" I replied.

"Not if...  well, you be a missionary and I'll CAPTURE you" he said.

Well, I CAUGHT that, but pretending I hadn't I said, "Oh, I guess. We can
try it, anyway."

And so early that afternoon there I was walking along minding my own
business out in the jungle in my Sunday best blue soccer shorts. I had my
underwear on too.

Suddenly, out of nowhere came this high pitched blood curdling scream, and
a naked headhunter pounced right in front of me. And he had a poison
spear. Which he was going to spear me with if I didn't surrender and do
exactly what he told me to do.

"Please don't hurt me" I begged.

"Lay down. Flat on the ground. On your back." he commanded.

Fearfully I did so.

"Now you're tied up, ok? You can't move."

And sure enough, he YANKED my soccer shorts off. Then he yanked my undies
off too. I acted horrified and had a boner. Well, of course. And so did the
savage.

"Oh NO!" I wailed, "What are you going to DO?"

"I'm going to TORTURE you!" he snarled, "I am going to make you pee all
OVER yourself!" then he fell on me and I went "Ack!"

And that was almost EXACTLY what I had in mind in the FIRST place.

And so he YANKED, and he PULLED, and then pretty soon he just started
rubbing it real fast between his palms. Shivers went up and down my body
again. Then those shivers started getting more intense and I couldn't
hardly stay still. I was wiggling all OVER the place, tied up or not. I
could feel it coming on again. Whatever was going to happen, it was going
to be major! I was going to flood the whole entire jungle! But I hadn't
quite been driven insane yet, and I figured maybe I should sort of warn
Kelly. He didn't have to STOP, but he might possibly want to get out of the
way.

"Oh shit! Oh shit, shit, Kelly I am about to DO something!" I warned him.

Wickedly, he didn't slow down a bit. If anything, he speeded up.

"Really! I- oh, ma-AN, oh- SHIT! SHIT! Kelly-I-am-abouttoexPLODE" and then
all at once I thought maybe I HAD. But it was the most WONderful explosion
I had ever experienced. (Ok, fine. I hadn't EXPERIENCED any explosions
before.) But this feeling shot through my whole damn body and my penis
started jerking around and for a little bit I was beginning to think it
wasn't going to STOP. I almost passed out. Way way back in the back of my
mind there was this feeling that now I had REALLY done it, it wasn't GOING
to stop, nothing was coming out, my father would find out... but I just
didn't care. Well, actually I HAD grabbed it and I was TRYING to make it
stop, but it wasn't GOING TO. Not for more than a minute, it wasn't.

Then once the storm was stilled and I was trying to get my breath back,
Kelly giggled, "Damn! Yours REALLY jerks!"

"What do you mean?" I said breathlessly, "You mean you KNEW that was going
to happen?"

"Yeah" Kelly said smugly, "Last night I keep thinking about how good it
felt? So I climbed out on the roof because that way I figured I could wet
all I wanted to, and anyway, I kept messing with it and then all at once it
happened. Damn! I almost fell off the roof!"

"So that's what you wanted to tell me, right?"

"Well, sure! You know you can do it over and over?"

"How many times?"

"I did it two more times last night, and a couple more times before I came
over this morning, so I don't know. I guess till your peter falls
off. ... Mine's a little sore right now, though."

Oh. "So you don't want me to do it to you then." I'm sure there was a note
of disappointment in my voice.

"Well... We COULD go over to my house, that way we won't get ate up by
mosquitoes, and you could do it real SLOW... because shit, we don't have to
worry about anybody seeing us so we got plenty of time and anyway, you
didn't get to finish my rubdown yesterday. So you want to do that?"

That was probably the best of day of my whole life. At least up till that
point. From worse to best in only a couple days time!

I went very slow, exploring every inch of his body. Or at least almost. I
mean I got pretty close to his hole, but I didn't mess around with
it. Because I thought it would be gross. But aside from that, I went
everywhere, even to the soles of his ticklish feet and between his
toes. Kelly said it felt great, even if his eventual orgasm was a bit more
understated than mine. He had been softly moaning a bit and breathing kind
of fast and curling and uncurling his toes, then he sucked in his breath
and started opening and closing his legs, then all at once he arched up,
his penis sort of quivered, then it softened a bit and he sighed and that
was all there was to it. But he still said it felt AWFULLY good. So of
course he did me again, then I did him again, then he did me again,
then... well, you get the idea I guess. Till they got sore.

In the days that followed, we learned about all sorts of erogenous
zones. We wrestled. We bathed together. All at once I LIKED taking
baths. Sometimes we were soft, but that state of affairs never seemed to
last very long. We were insatiable.

And so it was only a matter of time until one afternoon while wrestling on
the floor Kelly put his mouth on one of my titties and started blowing on
it. Slobbered all over it, he did. But yeah, that felt good! So I just
slobbered on HIS titties and it was good for him as well. So ok, after a
bit he moved down and slobbered on my belly button. (Mine's an outie, his
was an innie.) That felt good too, so I returned the favor and even licked
at it, which Kelly said felt even better than being slobbered on. So of
course we had to find out how it felt to lick on each other's titties and
then how it felt if you kissed them and then if you sort of sucked on
them. Well, it seemed like about everything short of biting on them was a
new and wonderful experience, so inasmuch as no one else would ever know
about it and we were best friends and would be forever, it didn't take long
until we arrived at the MAJOR erogenous zone.

Yes, I took his straining little erection between my thumb and forefinger,
looked at it speculatively for a few seconds and asked, "Dare me?"

Kelly giggled. Just a little nervously I think, because while we didn't
know what queer meant we did know what dirty meant, and this was REALLY
dirty. But shit, he said, I'd already poked mine in HIS mouth anyway, about
a day ago when we were wrestling. Just for a second I'd poked it right in
and he said it didn't hardly taste any different than any other place he'd
had his mouth. I didn't remember that exactly, but it looked like I was
going to do it.

"So if I do it, then you'll do it, right?"

"Yeah, sure" he replied. Suddenly he seemed almost serious.

So I took a deep breath and much to my surprise it wasn't yucky at all and
Kelly got almost as animated as I usually did. He was almost squealing with
delight and his legs were quivering and his feet were beating an erratic
staccato on the floor. "Man!" I thought, "this must really be GOOD!" and I
redoubled my efforts. I licked and I sucked, I ran my tongue over his
little pink slit and then all the way down to his tummy and wondered if I
could get his balls in my mouth as well which indeed I could and he
shrieked, but I could tell he liked it because he was pushing my head down
further. Well heck, I couldn't GO any further, in fact I sort of needed to
come up for air, so I pulled away.

"Don't stop!" he implored, so I hunched up closer and down I went
again. Kelly was going "uhuhuhuh... oh SHIT" and kicking his legs and I
will be damned if I didn't start quivering all over about the same time he
did. Which was still another first.

Then after he caught his breath he returned the favor and I could see why
he had been carrying on so. It was fanTAStic.

And so in the few remaining weeks we had left before moving to Atlanta we
did it many more times, even trying a few awkward sixty-nines. Once in the
bathtub we decided to clean out each other's holes. That was about the only
place we hadn't investigated. So I poked my finger up his hole and he poked
his up mine at the same time. His eyes widened noticeably as I pushed well
past my knuckle and I'm sure mine widened as well. It felt good! Then we
wiggled them around and yes, that felt even better.

"See if you can get it in deeper" Kelly said breathlessly. We were REALLY
being nasty!

But that ended almost immediately after I popped my finger OUT.

"Eww! Gross!" he exclaimed, and that took care of that. We simply couldn't
overcome our squeamishness. Not then, and not in the remaining few days
before we moved.

He promised if I wrote him he'd write back, but that was one promise he
didn't keep. I don't guess he was much at writing letters anyway. I have
often thought about him and three years later I wonder what he's up to,
whether he's gay and what he looks like now. I wonder if I'd even recognize
him. But mostly I don't even want to know how he's changed, I'd just as
soon remember us when neither knew very much except that we were best
friends forever.


Any positive feedback would be greatly appreciated. Write me at
jjanicki@bellsouth.net