Date: Tue, 20 Jul 2010 22:54:05 +0000 (GMT)
From: Jonas Henley <jonas_henley@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Sweetwater Boys, Chapter 04

Sweetwater Boys
by Jonas Henley

Chapter 4


Thursday morning, 21 June 1995

Kyle Brooks churned through the events of the spendover birthday party at
Andrew's house for the next five months. He could admit to no-one, hardly
even himself, the rise he got in his pants every time he saw Bobby
Chambers' butt moving down the hallway. He actually longed to see it again,
naked, of course, which is the only way he thought that that butt should
be. It disturbed Kyle for a while, to say the least, to have these
thoughts.

But, he reasoned to himself, he didn't look around the locker room at what
was available -- at least not any more than any other kid his age would. He
wasn't obsessing with guys any; and he still got with Angie Cibelli again
-- and totally was cool with that. So all in all, he certainly could not be
gay or in any way some deviant. But why did he seem to have this --
obsession? -- with Bobby? He didn't fully understand it, but he handled it
in his usual cool, tough guy way and reasoned that Bobby was apparently
needing that attention, especially right there where Kyle seemed to focus
it.

They used to be friends. Well, true that Kyle was more friends with Andrew
than Bobby, but it was pretty difficult to be close friends of one and not
at least be friends with the other -- and with Paul Caswell -- as odd a
grouping as the three friends seemed to be in their middle school
years. Andrew, Bobby and Paul weren't exactly growing apart like most would
expect. But aside from all that, Kyle had been somewhat friends with Bobby.

But in the last few months things were a bit strained, understandably
enough, given what all he had done to Bobby at the party. Nobody knew about
the second part, though, and Kyle still longed to try it again. But even
aside from that, he would like to be friends with Bobby again. That would
be tricky, though, given that Bobby wouldn't talk to or even acknowledge
Kyle for the next two months after the party. And for the last few weeks at
school, though he would reply to any greetings civilly enough, gave Kyle
some of the oddest looks; looks that, quite frankly, made Kyle feel like
something of a pervert.

But even still, he couldn't get certain thoughts out of his head.

And so, on a Thursday afternoon in late June, when Kyle was tossing a
football up in the air in his backyard, thinking of a way to invite himself
over to Bobby's and maybe set the record straight between them, he received
a visitor.

Kyle had just seen that same visitor yesterday, actually, out on the field
of battle. Jason McCoy was one grade up from Kyle, but the entering-7th
grade and entering-8th grade Jolsen Middle School football teams had just
started summer MWF football practice that week. He didn't expect to see
Jason again until Friday, but the older boy's reason for his visit was
readily apparent:

"Dude, why are you still throwing around a football all by your pathetic
self, when there's plenty of perfectly good swimming pools all around
Sweetwater.  Come on, Michael said he's goin' over to Chase's to swim. So,
let's go, too!"

While Jason was getting Kyle into gear, 12-year-old Tyler Fisk and
almost-13 ½-year-old Blaine Hart were themselves arriving at Chase's to
swim. They had tried to get Kelley to go (he couldn't -- had to work on
something with his dad) and Nathan (he wouldn't -- had to get `cleaned up'
and `take a nap' after spending the night at a friend's house in
Sweetwater). Neither Tyler or Blaine wanted to think too much more about
the night Nathan and his `friend' had had, once they cleared up that it was
all consensual. Suffice it to say that Nathan would be out of the public
eye for at least a few days.

So it was just the two of them as they walked through the back gate from
the service lane into the already-packed backyard. Tyler immediately headed
off around the pool to the diving board and greeted the cluster of boys
there. Blaine jumped in the pool first thing and then pulled his stocky,
but solid, body out of the pool, the weight of the loose wet fabric now
gathering around his larger dick and nuts -- well larger than the other
boys in his class, but then he was also a year older than them.

Normally he wouldn't care, and since Kelley didn't come with them, he was
unlikely to get too far into any `obvious state' that he would attract
attention, but today there were several girls there, and his eyes nearly
fell out when he saw that one of them was Bethany Lisle, Chase Havard's
voluptuous 14-year-old next door neighbor. He suddenly became quite
self-conscious of the way that his wet suit would hang around his now
growing genitals.

Worse, she actually invited him to sit down with her. This was torture in
all the good and the embarrassing senses of the word. Blaine leaned forward
as he sat and tried to hide or minimize the only part of himself that
actually wanted to stand up straight. His dick all of a sudden being
reminded of the other options in life.

While this was going on, Tyler was being his usual self with the other
boys. Always willing to turn anything into a contest, Tyler managed to turn
a simple debate between Frank Ziller and Sammy Collier, over who was a
better diver, into a competition amongst a dozen or so boys that had
drifted in to the Havard's back yard by the time the argument was in full
swing. Tyler's suggestion was quickly seconded by Michael Camden, a
football player going into 8th grade with Chase after this summer. He was a
natural at having to prove himself in competition.

"Yeah, OK, so who wants to judge?"  asked Sammy, who was Michael's best
friend off the gridiron.  "Chase? It's your pool."

"Not me," Chase smiled, "I'm in. Somebody's got to show these two punks how
to really dive."

Chase then motioned to his friend Mark Crane, who stretched his longer and
leaner, yet muscular, frame and said, "Hell, yeah I'm in, too."

Frank and Sammy rolled their eyes. Tyler and Michael were fair competition,
but Chase and Mark were ringers. They were a little older - Mark was just a
month away from 14 and a few months older than Chase -- and this was
Chase's pool. They were in it all the time when the weather was warm, so it
was home advantage.

"All right fine," Frank said resigned.  "But somebody's got to judge."

"Hey, Blaine! We need a judge for our diving tournament!"

Everything was a tournament to Tyler once he got other boys into a
competition. But Blaine just shook his head no from the other side of the
pool. He looked almost constipated, from both his facial expression and
from the way he was sitting, leaning over like that, arms folded across his
lower belly and pressed into his lap. Tyler didn't know what was wrong with
him, but Blaine didn't look like he would even want to dive.

"Dude," Chase said low in Tyler's ear, "You think he's going to give up
sitting next to Bethany to come over and watch a bunch of guys?"

Both boys looked over with some Envy at the space that Blaine was getting
to share with Chase's 14-going-on-16-year-old neighbor, Bethany Lisle. She
was only one grade above Chase (and therefore two above Blaine, since he
had been held back) but she was about two or three levels above that, in
terms of accessibility. They were all just little kids to her. But they
were little kids that sure got big when watching her. And Blaine was
allowed to grace her presence, for some reason. He was practically in the
Holy space. She didn't seem to be in any hurry for him to leave her alone.

"Yeah, true that, no wonder he looks like he's gotta take dump, probably
half the jerk-offs he's ever done are probably going on in his head right
now."  Tyler said with a smile. He may have been only 12 and was nearly 1
½ years younger than his friend Chase, but he already had some dark blond
pubic hairs and had spent his fair share of nights dreaming about what he
might could do with a girl if he ever got the chance.  "Hey, Chase, I know,
what about the other girls?"

"Yeah, good idea, buddy," Chase responded as he looked over at a group of
four giggling girls, two in his grade and two from the grade below. In
fact, he had some classes with Selene Patros. Dark hair, demure smile, and
hot as hell, but she didn't tease or play games. Chase never could come up
with a good enough reason to get close to her; plus he didn't get along the
greatest with her twin brother Alexander.  "We'll ask the girls. I have
classes with the hottest one there."

"Oh, Selene?"

"Yeah. How do you know her?"

"I'm only a grade below you, dumbass. I'm going into 7th grade, not 1st,
besides one of my friends in the Spring has a big crush on her, or
something like."

"Yeah, I know the one you're talking about. He's been here before. He seems
cool."

"How do you know which one I'm talking about?"

"Well, you only brought two Springers here before, and I kinda assumed it
wasn't the gay kid."

"What? Who said either one of my friends from there was gay?"

"Tyler," Chase said, furrowing his brows slightly and giving an aborted
roll of his eyes, "dude, come on, the blond kid? Any gayer and he'd be as
gay as my cousin Josh, who keeps wanting to play dick games with me every
time I go to their house. Ugh, sick."

A small shiver of disgust went through Chase, and Tyler felt a bit on the
defensive with his old friend.  "Watch it, Chase, Nate's my friend as much
as you are."

"Relax, Tyler. I was talking about my cousin. I bet if I told your friend I
wasn't interested he wouldn't mess with me any more. And besides he keeps
it under wrap. And even if everybody knew, which, I guess they will
eventually, he's still welcome to swim here."

Tyler nodded his acceptance of Chase's redaction, but his friend was
already moving things along. Tyler got this started, but then had just sort
of left it to someone else to organize. Chase didn't know that Tyler's
subconscious was holding him back, wondering if a competition was such a
great thing. Chase had no idea that the last competition that Tyler had
started, stemming from a stupid argument with that kid at the creek -- what
was his name......Casey? -- had ended up in a bet that was a bit too daring
and shocking for even Tyler's own sporting blood.

Thank god he hadn't lost, was all Tyler could think at the times when he
couldn't help but remember it -- a memory that was laden with guilt about
what poor Kelley had to do when he lost. And Kelley was the only one of the
four not so keen to start with about the whole argument. Tyler gave his own
small shiver internally, but still without consciously recognizing his mild
reluctance to what he had started here.

"All right guys, listen up," Chase shouted out, "Who's all in this?"

Frank and Sammy eagerly raised their hands, both just as sure as the other
that he would win, at least against each other. Michael, Mark, Chase and
Tyler had their hands up as well, but they were joined by Emmett Selby, who
like Sammy was just a month away from 13 and also going into 8th grade, and
13-year-old Benjamin Kohl, who went to the same synagogue as Adrian Rosen.

Adrian had just this past week hooked Benjamin up with a Rosen cousin who
pushed a naked Benjamin on his back and lowered her tight pussy over his
straining five and one-quarter inches and rode him through two orgasms
without once stopping. No one would have ever thought the small and quiet
Adrian to be so well acquainted with sexual outlets, but the younger friend
had definitely hooked him up. Poor Adrian took it well, too. He had only
had his fingers in the girl's pussy. She wouldn't have sex with him until
he was a bit bigger down there. But she had promised him a blow job if he
could hook her up with a quiet, clean, wholesome Jewish boy who was closer
to five inches, at least. Adrian didn't know how big Benjamin was in the
dick, but he fit everything else.

So Benjamin, with the memory of this blessed event, was riding a high and
felt he could enter almost any competition at this point in his young
life. His exuberance spilled over, somewhat, as he also raised up the hand
of the boy next to him. 12-year-old Garth Davis just shrugged and said
sure, he would compete, as if Benjamin was giving him any choice. Then 12
½-year-old Cain Whitfield signaled he was in, as well. Cain was one of
those semi-ordinary boys who was also good looking but on that edge of
whether he would be outgoing and popular in school, or quiet, enjoyable and
dependable. He had a tough interior that was dying at times to come out, so
many assumed he would soon break out of that shell and be more of a leader
than a follower.

Chase put it to the four girls and asked if they would judge, and they
eagerly agreed. Selene was joined by her friend Cassie Lowry who had
brought along her 12-year-old Sweetwater cousin, Julie Lowry. Despite being
first cousins, the two girls, and their brothers, couldn't be less
alike. There was no telling where 11-year-old Morgan Lowry was, but he and
his sister Julie were light skinned, fair blonds with more timid and
passive personalities, whereas 13-year-old Cassie and her little brother
Turner -- who had just turned 12 that week -- were perpetually naturally
tan, with coppery brown hair and eager and outgoing personalities,
bordering on dominating.

Turner and Cassie's dominant personalities were largely kept in check,
though, as they actually sought out other forceful, yet secure and
non-dominating, personalities for their friendships. Hence they were close
to Selene and her 12 year old little brother, Marc Patros, also dark haired
with that hint of an exotic Greek background.

The three girls were joined by 12-year-old Sherry Walther, who was friends
with Selene mainly because they both had quiet, reserved twin brothers,
though Selene's twin Alexander could cope in larger social functions, while
Shane Walther had difficulties outside of a chess club, despite being on
decent terms with a number of other popular boys. Shane was the strange kid
you would expect to harbor a pension for D&D, but not necessarily hang out
on occasion with the A or B-crowds.

Selene, Cassie, Sherry and Julie took their places on the other side of the
pool with a clear view of the board and the deep end of the pool. Selene
and Cassie made their little brothers Turner and Marc join the competition,
and Chase asked his little brother, 10-year-old Charlie, to keep a score as
the girls called it out or showed their hands.  Every dive would be rated
on a scale of 0 to 5 fingers and after five dives each, Charlie would
average the scores and call out the winner.

"Wait," Frank said, "He also has to call out who's higher in the scores
between me and Sammy. It'll be me, of course, but just to keep it fair, you
know."

"You wish Frank."  Sammy retorted, "What are you going to do when you lose?
I know, you should have to shout `I'm a big fat dog turd' as loud as you
can."

"No problem, I'll shout it when I win, too `Sammy's a big fat dog turd!'
How's that?"

"No, fucker, I said `I'm a big, fat-"

He never got to finish as the other boys, even his best friend Michael,
started laughing at him and at the wordplay joke that Frank had caught him
with.

"Seriously, dudes," Michael Camden said, "What's in it for the winner and
loser? Both between Sammy and Frank and for the rest of us?"

"Uh, guys," Tyler started up, now remembering how things had gone awry the
last time he had started a `friendly' competition.  "Let's just say whoever
wins wins and that's it."

"When did you become such a pussy, Fisk?"

Tyler turned to see who said that and saw Jason McCoy and Kyle Brooks
walking up. Jason was the one who said it. He had been friends with Chase
for awhile, though they were starting to grow apart. He was also on the 8th
grade football team, or at least would be this fall, along with Michael
Camden.

Kyle Brooks was his same suave, handsome, very slightly arrogant, self. He
was an athletic boy as well, who would be on the 7th grade football team in
the fall. He already scrimmaged with the eighth grade team, though, and was
rumored to be likely to be Varsity as a freshman.

"This ain't your deal, so don't worry about it any, Jason."  Tyler
responded. Even without Blaine for a best friend, football players didn't
intimidate him.

"Relax, Tyler," Kyle said, "we want in. Garth's little sister said you guys
were having a diving competition."

"Rosie?"  Garth asked, "Dammit, what's she doing here?"

"Don't worry, Garth," Jason said, "I gave her little pussy a lickin', made
her happy, and sent her on her way home."

"Jason . . ." Chase warned as someone's hand grabbed Garth's arm and pulled
him back from what would have been a grossly one-sided fight -- one sided
against Garth.

"All right, all right."  Jason said, holding his hands up in a conciliatory
gesture, "Garth, I'm sorry I licked your sister's pussy. So what will it be
boys? Got anything in the offer for a prize?"

It took two hands to hold Garth back this time, but Jason looked
unconcerned and had even gotten a few laughs.

"Well, what do you suggest?"  Benjamin asked. He had a hidden, secretive
penchant for games of chance, but the forbidden nature of them had always
dampened any involvement, something that simply made the opportunity of one
even more seductive. Plus, he was an easy sell this week. Your first pussy
can do that to you.

"And whatever it is," Michael added, "It'll have to be the same for Frank
and Sammy as for the overall winner and loser? Agreed?"

Everybody nodded their heads, Frank and Sammy a little more unsurely. They
were both thinking that maybe they should have kept their fight a little
more secretive and not involved anyone else, especially as the ideas went
around as to what the loser should have to do.

"Eat everybody's boogers."

"Lick Chase's dog's ass."

"Lick Chase's ass!"

"NO! Absolutely not!"  (This from Chase.)

"Stick a wiener up his butt and make him eat it."

["Chase?"  "No dude, the loser."  "Everybody just stay out my kitchen and
away from our food."]

"Swim naked the rest of the day."

Boys being boys, they were each just coming up with the grossest things
that they could think of. None were really being serious, but Frank and
Sammy were both starting to feel ill and wretched.

"Emmett, you haven't said anything, what do you think?"

Emmett was quiet by nature and not a strong diver, so he wasn't feeling any
better than Sammy or Frank. But he felt compelled, for some reason, to put
in an accurate two cents, when he was called to do so.

"Well, uh, shouldn't it be something that the loser has to do for the
winner?"

"Hey, yeah, he's right!"

He got a chorus of agreements, but it didn't make him feel any better. He
wanted to kick himself, but what he wanted more was to just excuse himself
from this competition. Initially it sounded like something fun and
light-hearted, something he wouldn't mind losing, as everyone would be
having a good time doing it. But it was getting way too serious way too
quickly for his taste and diving experience.

"Emmett's right. It has to be something the loser has to do for the
winner. Something good, too. Anybody got a serious idea?"

"I got one," Kyle put forward with a confident smile.  "But the losers are
really going to hate it."

His smile was sinister and put a few of the boys on guard, but Michael
yelled out, "Perfect!" before he had even heard it and Garth added,
"Jason's got to do it, too, when he loses."

"Fine, no problem Garth. In fact, I'll agree to it right now, before I even
hear it, if you will."

"Yeah, I will," Garh wasn't backing down any, "but it better be something
bad, like horrible bad."

Both Jason and Garth were operating off ill-conceived misconceptions. Jason
shared his with Kyle and Michael in that each of the three adolescent
football players believed that if you could dominate in American football,
then you could be good at any sport. So all three were confident they could
dive as well as any other boy. Garth's misconception was on the opposite
end. If you strutted about on a football field you probably had a low IQ
and weren't coordinated enough for any real sport.

"What about it, Chase?"  Jason asked.

Chase and Mark looked over at each other and shrugged. Neither felt they
had anything to lose against these guys. They may not win, they weren't
that conceited -- well, Chase wasn't -- but with such a large group they
certainly weren't going to lose.

"Sure, whatever it is me and Mark are in; but I got the right to change it
some so that I don't get in trouble. I mean, it is at my house and it's my
pool."

"As long as you don't change it after you lose, then fine. Everybody else
agree?"  Jason asked and got murmurs of assent. They all knew Chase
wouldn't lose, and he was fair minded.

Chase gave Tyler a friendly shove and a facial expression that said
basically, what the hell, you might as well and you started all of
this. Tyler just closed his eyes and said without conviction.  "Fine, I'm
in as well."

"Well Sammy and Frank are in, I'm sure. Right guys? I mean you two started
all this."  Michael exclaimed jovially. Frank wanted to punch him, and
Sammy would have stepped aside and let him, but they both felt caught out
and just mindlessly nodded an assent.

"Turner, Marc, you guys are kind of young, so if you two don't want to --"

The newly 12 year old Turner just flipped Jason off, and Marc said they
could handle anything the older boys could. The two of them dove constantly
at Ivan's house, and neither were afraid of a competition. That left Cain
and Emmett, who, being now so greatly outnumbered, were very uncomfortable
with backing out, so they reluctantly opted in.

"OK, so we're all in, then."  Chase said, "So what's the big penalty, Kyle?
And remember I get to change it, if it's gonna get us in trouble, ruin my
house or pool, or-"

"Yeah, yeah, we got it, Chase. No problem. The big thing is that everybody
agrees that no one backs out after we hear it. Everybody agreed?"  After
everybody agreed, Jason nodded to Kyle and told him that his idea better be
a good one.

Now that everyone was waiting for him to say it, Kyle wasn't so sure he
should. In fact, he was fairly certain that he shouldn't. It was just that
the thought had occurred to him as his mind idly slipped back to Andrew's
birthday party when he came on Bobby's face. He was still pretty sure he
had shot some down that virgin mouth, and was also sure that Bobby had
swallowed it; but he didn't say anything about that to anybody. Kyle had a
definite bad boy inside him, but wasn't really that bad a kid to go and say
something like that about Bobby. Or even to Bobby.

Bobby, however, still wasn't completely talking to Kyle, even though he
wasn't really avoiding him. Their friendship was just in a weird spot. But
Kyle was fairly certain that would smooth over in time. What he really
wanted though, was the whole blow job; and that's what he had in the back
of his mind at this moment. He didn't honestly think he was going to win,
not up against Chase or Mark, but he wasn't going to lose either. So what
would it hurt him if they made another one of his friends do it to the
winner?

They were all friends, right?

Kyle smiled. This was going to be fun.

"OK, but just remember. There's no backing out. Any guy that backs out
after I say this will have to do the penalty for every boy here."

That made everyone nervous, especially Tyler who already had a better idea
than the other boys where this could be going.

"Yeah, whatever, Kyle, we all already agreed. Just get on with it, but it
better not be anything like eating shit or something that could get anybody
sick."  Chase threw in.

Even as he said it, several boys felt sick. They hadn't even thought about
something that disgusting. But not a single one of them had even considered
anything along the lines of boy-on-boy sex, except Tyler who looked like he
was saying `ahh, shit' already somewhere in his head.

"Fine. It wont make any guy sick. He'll probably feel real sick, but it
won't actually cause any physical damage. Deal on that then?"

"Deal. And there's no way anybody can get in trouble?"

"Only if they talk. If nobody talks, nobody knows. Deal on that?"

"Deal."  Chase said, securing the bet even before he heard it.

"Fine. Loser sucks the winner's dick."

What?  No way!!  Ununhh!! Dude, that's sick!!

"And swallows it ALL," Kyle added.

"I can't do that," Emmett said, shaking his head.

"Then I guess you shouldn't have agreed before we started, so tough shit."
Michael said. He really wanted to back out, as well; but there was no way
he could do that in front of his football friends, especially as Jason was
slapping Kyle on the back and effectively congratulating him on pulling out
the best penalty.

"Dude, that really is sick! I mean that really is fucking sick! Sucks to be
the loser in your tournament, eh Tyler?"  Jason was smiling broadly the
whole time he was saying this to Kyle and Tyler. It didn't even cross his
mind at all that he would actually have a chance at losing. He like any boy
loved to see an actual loser of a bet do something gross or humiliating,
but this was the tops. This beat everything else that he had seen before.
"Hey, I made a joke, get it?  `Sucks' to be the loser, get it?? Huh??"

Well, Jason was fired up about it, and Mark and Chase just sort-of raised
their eyebrows and shrugged at each other. This was definitely out there,
but they weren't going to lose either. And Tyler never backed out of
anything that he started, so he was still in as well. Given those five
still solidly in the competition, Michael was stuck; so he might as well
puff out his chest and be a man about it.

"Suck it up, Emmett," Michael said.

"Yeah, or you really will be sucking it up!"  Turner, who was the youngest,
just having turned 12 that week, said, while laughing at his own joke. His
buddy Marc, the second-to-youngest, laughed as well. Emmett glared angrily
at the two younger boys. He was going to be 13 in a few weeks; he couldn't
be laughed at by them.

"I just said I `couldn't' do this; I didn't say I wouldn't. I'm not backing
out of the bet. It's just . . . ."  a shiver went through the boy before he
could finish his frightened thoughts.  "I can't do that."

"Well you better not lose then," Benjamin said calmly. He like every other
boy was disgusted by the thought and secretly wanted out of the
competition, but he was able to turn off that part of his mind and let the
calmness bequeathed to him by Adrian's cousin take over.

"Anyway, Emmett, you're the stupid ass that said the loser should have to
do something."  Garth was still amazed at that, as he knew Emmett wasn't
that strong a diver. He wasn't a terribly great one himself, but he was
still more mad than worried.  "Just be sure you beat Jason."

"I'm not going to lose, Garth," Jason answered back, "but don't worry,
you'll enjoy drinking my juice. The girls all say it's the sweetest. Why
just the other day, even your own sister-"

Garth launched himself at Jason, only barely caught and held back by Tyler
and Mark. Chase stepped between them and put his hand against Jason's
chest.

"Once more, Jason, do that one more time, and you can leave and don't ever
come back."

Jason's smile faded. Chase was serious, for some reason.

"All right, fine. Sorry."

"It's not me you should be saying you're sorry to. But not some crankass
fake apology like the last time."

"Seriously, Jason," Kyle added in, giving his support to Chase rather than
Jason, his fellow football player, "just drop it. It was only funny the
first time. Besides, she's only like 9 or 10. It's a little creepy."

Jason shrugged. He couldn't win here, and he knew it. So he regained his
cocksure composure and said, "Hey, no problem Chase. I respect your
place. Hey Garth, I'm sorry for being a total ass, OK?"

Jason held out his hand again to offer an olive branch, but Garth just
lunged again and was dragged back by Mark and Chase.

"Garth," Chase started in, "If you get into a fight here then I'm throwing
you out and you won't be welcome back. And I bet I know a few other guys
who will kick you out of their pools as well."

Garth's family didn't have a pool, so the threat was enough to calm him
down; but Mark still stayed by him to make sure that he didn't try and
kamikaze Jason again. Chase went on to tell the boys that just to make sure
things stayed fair, they shouldn't tell the girls who were judging what the
actual bet would be. No sense in letting the prospect of such a heavy
outcome color their decisions. The rest of the boys were in agreement.

Chase left out to ask Blaine if he wanted to join, even though Chase
himself wouldn't be sure he would given the bet at stake. While he was
gone, Benjamin came up to Garth and tried to calm him down more. He
reasoned with the boy that if he didn't calm down, then he would screw up
all his dives and end up losing, and he didn't want to do that.  Garth did
calm some, thanks to Benjamin's reasoning. Benjamin was a quiet peacemaker
with the unassuming self-confidence few boys his age had.

Meanwhile, Chase was holding up the competition trying to get Blaine to
join. But Blaine inexplicably just jumped in the pool, though he looked
like he had something of a seizure right before he did so, and Chase seemed
to be just stiffly chatting it up with Bethany. Eventually Blaine got out
of the pool and walked into the house.

Of course, once all the boys' eyes roamed over Bethany's body, they took no
notice of Blaine's still large semi-erect tenting and forgot briefly about
Chase, about the competition, about the pool itself, at least until Michael
Camden grew impatient and began hollering out, asking if Chase was coming
or not.

"Yeah, I'm definitely coming," Came the reply.  "But I, uh, gotta check on
the pool pump, I'll be right back."

"Well, hurry up!"  Michael demanded, but Mark Crane sniggered at the use of
the word `coming' and the sudden need of Chase's to use the poolhouse.

It was only a few minutes later that Chase rejoined the boys. The boys were
all reluctant to begin, given the fact that one of them eventually had to
lose -- and lose big -- yet, they were also quite impatient to begin and
get it over with.

"Finally!"  Michael said, exasperated with Chase's delay, but Mark Crane
just smiled at his slightly abashed friend and joked:

"So, was the pump working OK?"

"Shut up."

"Well if you girls are ready to begin . . . ."

"We've been ready!"  Sherry blurted out from the sidelines where the four
girls had set out deck chairs by the deep end.

"Well, actually, I was talking to all the girls afraid to be the first one
to dive," Jason said with a smile.  He got a few birds flipped at him by
some of the boys, but he continued on, "But I have an idea to make this
competition interesting."

Jason went on to explain how they should do the competition and got excited
agreements from the girls, and even most of the boys though it wasn't
bad. This was how they arranged it:

In Round One of the competition, there would be five dives selected by the
girls. Each boy would attempt the dive and get scored by the girls, a fist
meaning a zero (the worst) and an open hand being five (the best). Charlie
would record them and tally them up at the end. The boys would then be
ranked from highest to lowest on the total of the five averages (a possible
25 points).

Frank and Sammy would win or lose their personal bet based on this
count. The rest of the boys would go into Round Two. In this round, the
three highest boys would compete for first place, and the three lowest
would compete for last place. First place among the top three would be
getting a blow job and last place among the bottom three would be giving it
(the girls didn't know this detail; they only knew that there was obviously
some sort of bet hinging on the win, and it was something that made all the
boys groan). Just to make it more of a punishment for the bottom three,
those three would have to do the Second Round butt naked. The girls were
much in favor of this change.

The other difference in Round Two was that each boy would choose his best
dive and get to go first, and the other two contenders in his category
would have to do that dive. Once again, they would be judged from 0 to 5.

The competition started off with Chase first in the line-up, since it was
his pool, and Mark went second. It wasn't a great starting pair, as they
would clearly set a pace that no one else could keep up with.

Participants:

Chase Havard 13 y 8 mo (8th) Mark Crane 13 y 11 mo

Tyler Fisk 12 y 3 mo (7th) Cain Whitfield 12 y 7 mo (7th)

Sammy Collier 12 y 11 mo (8th) Frank Ziller 13 y 2 mo (8th)

Benjamin Kohl 13 y 5 mo (8th) Emmett Selby 12 y 11 mo (8th)

Garth Davis 12 y 8 mo (7th) Michael Camden 13 y 3 mo (8th, football)

Jason McCoy 13 y 5 mo (8th, football) Kyle Brooks 12 y 7 mo (7th, football)

Marc Patros 12 y 1 mo (7th) Turner Lowry 12 y (7th)



Judges:

Selene Patros 13 y 7 mo (8th) Cassie Lowry 13 y 3 mo (8th)

Sherry Walther 12 y 6 mo (7th) Julie Lowry 12 y 8 mo (7th)


Sure enough, the first dive went to Chase, with Mark right behind, and
everyone else struggling to keep up. The girls had called for a swan dive,
and Chase executed a nearly perfect one, getting a 5 from three of the
girls, and a 4 from Sherry Walther. Mark and Tyler weren't far behind and
would have gotten higher, except Sherry seemed as though she was going to
be stingy with everyone's score. Tyler might have gotten an even lower
score, except that Julie Lowry thought he was cute.

At any rate, they seemed to set the high bar for the rest of the dives,
until Garth stepped up. He was convinced the three football players were
oafs, and he was determined to win, just to see Jason punished. He dove his
best swan dive ever, or at least he hoped it was, but when he came up, he
saw the scores 4, 4, 4, 5. It was good, but not enough to beat Mark or
Chase, but enough to keep him in the top three, which was important for
Round 2. He got out of the pool and went over and stood by Emmett; he
didn't look so good.

Poor Emmett had gone right before Garth and had received a 2 as his average
score. It was a whole point below the next kid above him. He knew he wasn't
a strong diver compared to these guys, but a 2 ???  He had gone from
nervous to simply pale and fearful. How could he hope to compete when even
Cain, Sammy and Frank were doing much better than him. He just hoped the
guys that played football were as bad as Garth was expecting them to be --
well, actually he hoped they were much worse. The only problem was that he
had seen Kyle diving last year at Ian's pool, and didn't see much hope in
Kyle having gotten worse.

Michael, the first of the three boys who played football, was up next. He
was average, though Garth's fantasy had really seen him being worse. Where
Garth got truly crushed was when Jason stepped up. The bigger and more
gauche, arrogant boy who seemed as though he would be the opposite of poise
and grace -- though this had been merely judged on attitude, and not,
unfortunately for the other boys, on attention to movement and balance --
stepped up to the taller of the two diving boards at the Havard's, and
without hesitation ran down the board with one leap in the air and executed
a nearly flawless swan dive. He might have matched Chase's score, except
the boy just rubbed Selene and Cassie the wrong way, and they couldn't help
but lower their scores by one point.

4, 5, 5, 4. The lower ends were offset by Sherry, who, for some reason and
despite having a general disdain of boys, had something of an unexplained
interest in the muscular and overconfident boy, an interest born out of
much baser instincts. Turner and Marc were the only other boys to hit the 4
mark, but that was assisted in some part by friendly scoring. They both had
sisters on the judges' bench. It was a fact that might have made a few of
the boys more than a bit nervous, given the nature of the bet and their
current relationships with their own sisters. But the two youngest didn't
think much of it.

The next dive called out was a split. Chase and Mark did their usual good
performance, but Garth was dismayed when he found out -- after the fact --
that the football players all practiced splits to maintain limber joints
and moves. Jason got a begrudged perfect 5, and Kyle took second on that
dive with Garth and Michael tying. Poor Emmett had freaked himself out so
badly after the last dive, that he only managed to get a 1. Selene felt bad
for the kid and gave him a 2, but Sherry didn't feel anything at all for
the spazoid and gave him a Zero, and Julie and Cassie just gave him a
one. It was a full two points below the next lowest, which happened to be
Cain.

Cain had never had much cause to worry about his lot among the boys, though
he was only just on the cusp of coming out of his shell. He was quiet, but
roundly well-liked. But the attention that losing this bet would bring,
would do the boy no good at all. It would in fact destroy all
self-confidence and burgeoning happiness that he saw coming to him in the
next school year. It didn't help at all that he was barely leading Emmett
by three points and only trailing Michael and Tyler by a little more than
one point. He knew he was a weak diver, and he was starting to get
worried. Very worried.

It only got worse when the girls announce the next dive. A back dive. Cain
couldn't do back dives. He was scared of trying them. He was scared of
trying them because he couldn't do them at all, and he couldn't do them at
all because he was scared of trying them. Still, regardless of how he felt,
the competition went on; and when Cain got up for his, the girls could
actually see he was scared. All the same he ran down the board anyway and
gave it his all. He was more scared not to.

He got his worst score yet, a 2.75. It should have been much worse, but
Selene felt sorry for him and gave him a 4. Even Sherry loosened up on this
one and gave him a 3, perhaps because her own twin brother was quiet like
Cain used to be. Frank actually got a lower score on his dive, but that
didn't make Cain feel better, because technically Frank's only competition
was Sammy; though that didn't comfort Frank any.

The thought of having to suck Sammy's dick, even if he didn't have hair
yet, was causing Frank's stomach to cramp. Sammy left Frank even farther
behind after this dive. Out of a possible 15 points, Sammy now had 10.25
and Frank only 8.5. It was Benjamin's turn next, and he did his regular
decent, nothing spectacular, dive. For even though his recent `becoming a
man' kept his spirits and confidence bloated, he was way too relaxed and
happy to seriously compete.

Emmett had managed to calm himself some, despite the fact that he, like
Cain, could not really do a back dive. Once again, Selene inflated her
score because she felt bad for the yet another nervous boy. Emmett scored
his best score yet; but unfortunately, it only brought him to 5.75 out of
15 points. Almost three whole points below Frank, the next lowest on the
scoreboard.

Garth was still eager to get back into the top 3 and executed a nice back
dive, getting a 4. Michael was up next and had already decided that he
couldn't compete with Chase, Mark, and Jason. He would leave Garth to his
petty anger against Jason; so he singled out Tyler as his main
competition. He figured neither one of them were going to make the top or
lower cuts. They would be somewhere in the middle, and Tyler was usually up
for a competition -- maybe he'd be up for a competition within a
competition.

"Hey Tyler," Michael said, before going up on the board. "You want to put
some personal stakes down between the two of us?"

Tyler just shook his head.  "What's with all you football players? Why
don't you just get a room or something?  No thanks -- no more bets."

"No, I don't mean anything queer like that faggot stuff that Kyle was
throwing out," Michael said, but then saw Tyler tense, faintly.  "I mean
. . . . you know . . . . unless you're into that stuff."

"Fuck off, Michael, and just go dive."

"Come on, Michael! It's your turn!"  Another one of the boys called
out. Michael looked smugly at Tyler and surprised everyone by a nearly
perfect back dive; but again, he was merely a distraction for Sherry who
was waiting for Jason, and the best he got was a 4.75.

Jason's back dive was a respectable 4, balanced on one side by Selene's
underrating reluctance to give him a higher point and Sherry's desire to go
one higher than he should have gotten. Kyle meanwhile had a surprisingly
bland dive that earned him a 2.50, more out of disappointment by the girls
than any straightforward ineptitude.

While Turner Lowry and Marc Patros were showing the boys (and the girls)
fairly decent back dives of their own, Michael went over and razzed Tyler
some more. He was doing more than just irritating that competitive nerve of
Tyler's, he was getting on all his other nerves, as well. Tyler would like
nothing better than to take Michael up on a challenge, both for the sheer
fun of the aspect of a challenge, and also to shut the boy up. The problem
was the bets had gotten too high, too extreme. Even as it was, he couldn't
believe the boys were playing for what was at stake.

Everyone of them, well maybe not quite everyone of them, was only doing it
because he felt isolated in his desire to holler out Now way! No how! Call
me a pussy, a chicken, a whatever-you-want, I am out of this!!

It would probably only take one of them before the dominos began to
fall. But Tyler knew that there wouldn't be a first. They were all of them
stuck on this competition to hell, or at least it would be Hell for two
boys. There couldn't be anything worse in Hell for a boy than to have to
give another boy a blow job and swallow it, especially another boy at his
school. A boy that he would see every schoolday for the rest of his
life. Well, Tyler thought about it some, he guessed that there could be one
thing worse, but even that might not stack up against actually, publicly,
swallowing cum straight from a classmate's newly growing pubertal dick.

Turner and Marc had come back over and were hanging out with Tyler when
Michael said one last thing about the `friendly' competition he was
offering to the supposed Daredevil of the school.

"Pussy," Michael muttered, still with a smile, mostly still in jest and
fun, or so everyone thought. He wanted to get the great Tyler Fisk riled up
for another one of his infamous challenges, but obviously for one in which
he, Michael, was relatively certain he could win. The problem was, that he
had no idea that Tyler really hadn't been trying during this
competition. Tyler didn't actually want another boy to give him a blow
job. He wasn't interested.

But Michael wanted more than just a blow job. More than just humiliate,
suddenly he wanted to conquer, to squash someone under his thumb, and Tyler
always did seem to be able to get away with anything, and was always
protected by Blaine Hart. But Blaine wasn't around, was he? Michael had a
mean and sinister smile when he leaned and said real low:

 "I always knew, deep down you really were nothing but a pussy,
Fisk. Afraid of any REAL competition. Just hiding back behind the little
kids here, now that Blaine's not around to save you."

"The next dive," Julie Lowry stood up and called out, "will be the Belly
Buster!!"

Some boys groaned, some boys cheered. Tyler just smiled. This was his
dive. He had been king of the Belly Buster last year, but he had yet to do
one this summer, at least not in Sweetwater. He had already wowed a few
Springers down at the creek with his ability to go off the rope backward
and still do a perfect -- with a very loud smack -- belly flop.

"OK, Michael, I'll make a side bet with you."  Tyler smiled.

"Nahh, forget it."  As soon as he heard the Belly Buster announced, he knew
there was a chance that Tyler could pull ahead of him.

"Oh, look who's the pussy now."  Tyler said, rather loudly.

"Hey!"  Cassie shouted over at Tyler, "Quit using that as an insult!"

"Sorry, Cassie! Tell you what, Michael, we'll have our own dive-off. Girls
will judge, same as before. I pick a dive, you pick a dive, they pick a
dive. Highest score wins."

"Nahh," Michael said, trying to be non-chalant, and strangely remembering
some stray piece of advice that his mother had given him once.  `Be careful
what you wish for.'

He brushed it off as best he could and still look cool, which meant trying
to turn it on Tyler: "You should have took my offer when I made it."

A low hiss and booo started up from among the boys. Michael tried to
explain his side, but the ruckus finally got louder.

"All right! All right! Fine . . . . . Deal, then, OK? After this
competition is over, we'll have our own, just like you said."  Michael
finally relented, a little pissed that what he had been trying to do on the
sly was now general knowledge among the boys.

"Deal," Tyler simply said.

"Will whoever's turn it is, please go?"  One of the girls complained from
the side. It was Chase's turn and he headed up to the low board. There was
no sense in using the high board for this and making it hurt even more.
Like Tyler, neither he or Mark had any interest in being the winner of this
competition, and they both had plenty of points that they could afford to
let this one slide a little.

Chase only did a semi-belly buster, saving much of his belly form pain by
going in more at an angle.  He got some low boos from the girls and a
pretty low score at 1.50, but that didn't stop Mark from doing the same and
getting a low score as well; although his was a little higher at 2.25. He
didn't get quite the angle he was wanting and ended up doing a bit more of
a belly flop than intended.

"So what's the bet going to be, Michael?"  Tyler asked as he walked past to
the board. He was toying with the boy, having his fun in his element -- the
prospect of a challenge.

"Why not just make it the same as the bet for this?"  Garth suggested.

"That's been done; way to have an imagination Garth," Jason started, though
he seemed to be able to say the boy's name in such a way that it sounded
somewhat more like vomit, rather than a normal name, "I got a better
idea. Since I think you're both pussies for trying to start up a challenge
that you back out of as soon as there's a bet on the table."

"Jason . . . ."  Tyler started . . .

"No, hush up, here's my idea."

He said it low, but it was so radical that even the boys that overheard it
were too shocked to respond. Michael was about to fully recoil in disgust,
and Tyler was utterly astounded that this came out of Jason's mind. Now he
was sure that football players were all a bit overly repressed, but he kept
his poker face on and rose to the occasion of the bet.

"All right, I can agree to that, provided the bet can be given, loaned or
sold to some else."  Tyler said, making Michael's incredulity grow even
larger. His mouth fell open from the shock of Tyler being so at ease with
the bet, and his face and whole body blanched white just from the bet
itself.

"Dude, that's just absolutely sick and twisted!!"  Jason said, albeit with
a broad smile.  "But I know Michael from out on the field. He isn't going
to back down, Fisk."

"That's right, he's pitch, through and through."  Kyle said, both knowing
they were deliberately putting the screws on Michael.

Michael gulped and tried very hard, though completely unsuccessfully, to
look as smooth as Tyler about all this. Why didn't he just keep his mouth
shut? Or maybe it was Tyler all along. How was it Tyler always managed to
drag people into a competition? Michael was in something of a stupor as he
tried to think back and figure out how this got escalated like this. Was he
really responsible?

"Well, Michael? Tell him you agree to his condition."

"Hunh? Oh . . .  uh . . . . yeah . . . . . sure. It can, uh . . . . "

"Be traded, loaned or sold to anyone after the fact?"  Jason finished for
the boy.

"Yeah, that."

"One of you is really gonna hate this," Jason said with a huge smile.

"Hate what?"  Chase asked, coming up out of the pool and a bit concerned
that a new wrinkle was in the current competition thanks to Jason.  "No
more changes to anything we agreed on, Jason."

"Relax Chase, this is just something between Tyler and Michael after it's
all over."

Chase looked unsure.  "Fine, but no more bets like this out at my pool
after Michael and Tyler are done."

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna be a problem."  Jason answered, and he
was right. It was one thing to make a horrible abstract bet, but to see it
come to life as they were all about to shortly, that was something else
entirely, and enough to scare most of them off from betting for a while.

"Somebody needs to help Michael," Tyler taunted.  "I think he's gonna crap
his shorts over our bet."

Michael blushed, realizing the other boys were looking at him, waiting for
a response. He flipped Tyler off and said, "You're so tough, make it two
times instead of one, Tyler. It's obvious you want it bad and are just
afraid to ask."

Ooooh, came the taunts added by the other boy. Now it was Tyler's turn. But
Tyler looked supremely confident as he walked to the low board. After all,
he owned this dive. He merely shrugged and said, "Fine with me. In fact, we
can quadruple it, unless that's going to make you faint or something?"

It would make him faint, except that Michael was conscious of everyone
watching him, and he put on his false bravado.  "Hey, it's your ass. If you
want it that bad, then Deal. Four times it is."

"Actually, since you already doubled it before he quadrupled it," Jason
said, again with that arrogant and slightly sinister smile, "Then that
makes it 8 times."

"8?"  Michael gulped.

"Just so you know what you're up against. I think everybody here knows what
dive I'll be picking during our competition."  Tyler replied with supreme
confidence and went off the board and smiled, ready to show off the dive
that should practically bear his name. SMACK and SPLASH!!!

At least, that's what everyone had been expecting, but it was more like
Smack and Splash. It wasn't a bad belly flop; but it wasn't very memorable
either. Selene gave him high marks, but that was mainly because he was
Kelley's close friend in school, but he still ended up with the respectable
but very dull score of 3.

"What? That's all I got?  Are you serious?  Did you see that dive? Did you
hear that smack?"  Tyler asked the girls when he got out, very surprised at
the relatively low score he got from the four judges.

"Yeah, we saw it and heard it," Cassie said in a flat and unimpressed
voice, sarcastically adding, "it was REAL impressive."

Selene just looked uncomfortable and shrugged her shoulders. She really
couldn't justify the score that she gave him. It should have been
lower. Tyler shook his head and wandered over to the other boys in a funk.

"Shake it off Tyler, you just need to man-up some more this summer," Garth
said with a smile, while still wondering what happened to Tyler's signature
plunge.

"Maybe he was just excited about having a man UP him this summer," Michael
said with a smile, grabbing his crotch. He was feeling a whole lot better
about this bet.

"Fuck off, Michael!"  Tyler said angrily.

"Wuh-oh, shumbowdy's upshet . . . ."  Michael started calling out in baby
talk. Tyler stood like he was going to go after the boy, but Michael just
smiled and stood tall. He wasn't afraid of somebody charging him; that was
just football practice. But Tyler caught Chase's unhappy disapproval and
sat back down.

"Guess you don't want to double it again, hmmm? Little baby feel `UP' to
it?"

"Leave him alone, Michael, " Mark said, and Michael stepped away feeling
better about himself and this crazy bet. He actually almost started to get
hard just thinking about what it must feel like when he would get to
collect on the bet. And now he would get to collect on it 8 times already.

"Come on, Cain, go already," Sammy called out. Sammy was up next and was
leading Frank by almost two whole points. He just wanted to hurry up and
finish this scary competition while he still had a lead. And he figured a
Belly Buster wouldn't do much to separate the scores.

But Cain wasn't doing much better than Frank, and he really wanted out of
this competition. Besides, he never really did get in to the macho belly
flops like the other boys, each trying more than the other to prove he
could take the pain. It was a double whammy of fear for poor Cain, but he
took a deep breath, ran down the board and jumped, closing his eyes as he
did so.

He shouldn't have closed his eyes.

Poor Cain didn't level out like he was supposed to, and his feet and legs
(and nuts) hit first in surprising agony to his body. This had the result
of tipping his body forward so that he hit the water in a secondary, but
also painful, face plant. He didn't look like he was coming back up fast
enough, so Chase dove in and pulled the spurting coughing boy into the
shallows. Cain was trying to take deep breaths, because of the shock to his
young balls, but at the same time cough out the water he had breathed in on
initial impact.

Selene felt sorry for him and gave him a 2. He was at least face down, even
if his stomach was the last part of his body to go in. Cassie and Sherry
just shook their heads at the pitiful dive and gave him zeros. Julie knew
that Selene was going way too easy on the boys, but still, she thought Cain
was cute. And she got a bit of a thrill when he spread out his tanning arms
and she caught a glimpse of that very small patch of hair under his arm
that suggested the universal trait of a boy just about to launch into
manhood. She was going to have to look for that again.

Sammy was right about this dive not changing much between him and
Frank. Frank slightly outscored Sammy on this one, but only barely, and
Sammy was still up by a full point and a half, leaving an extremely nervous
Frank. He didn't want to suck Sammy's boner, especially since every boy out
there would know what they were doing in the poolhouse. But this was the
next to the last dive. He had to make up more than 1.50 points on the next
dive to beat the slightly younger boy, and he wasn't sure that could
happen.

Benjamin Kohl did his normal average dive for the day, still not fully
connecting with the fact that this was a competition.

Emmett was up after him. The pitiable blond haired-boy was living near
tears throughout this competition. His diving was hopeless, but maybe, just
maybe he could make up ground with a punishing Belly Buster. It would hurt,
but it would actually hurt a whole lot less than giving a blow job
would. He ran down the board and embraced the impending pain. He actually
did fairly well, garnering the highest for the dive. His awkwardness kept
him from getting a perfect 5, but his gusto bumped up his points, getting
him 4.25.

Michael's wasn't anything special, but it was higher than Tyler's, and he
strutted past the grimacing dirty blond, ruffling the boy's wet head as he
went.

"Whatcha say, Fisk, wanna quadruple the bet again?"

Tyler slapped the boy's hand away and went back to scowling in the
distance. Marc and Turner looked uncertainly at the exchange, but Michael
walked away chuckling.

Charlie called out the points totals after Marc and Turner went, each
garnering the exact same score, just as they had in the previous three
dives. Garth was chagrinned to hear that Jason was actually in the lead,
and Mark was chagrinned to hear that despite his deliberately trying to
throw off the last dive, he was still tied for third, along with Michael
Camden. Michael, however, was ecstatic that he was seriously in the
running, and leading Tyler Fisk by over a full point. He gave his erstwhile
opponent a double birdy and a Gene Simmons tongue. Tyler saw it out of his
corner vision, but made a point of ignoring the boy.

The girls announced the next dive, and most of the boys groaned, Tyler
included, as this was actually a hard dive for him.  Mark pulled Chase off
to the side and said that he didn't want to be in the top three.

"Well, I don't want to be in the top three either, but if we screw the next
dive, the girls might be deliberately hard. I think they knew what we did
the last time and weren't real happy about it. They might rank us real
low."

"So?"

"So, we don't want to be in the bottom three either."

So the two boys just did a basic good tuck and front flip, but without the
finesse with which they were capable. Just to be sure, they went off the
low board so that they wouldn't have as much lift to work with. They both
got around 3 points, after partially blowing off the dive.

"Think that'll keep us out?"  Mark asked after he got out of the pool.

"I don't know; hope so. Can't believe we agreed to this."  Chase answered.

Tyler meanwhile was looking a bit authentically nervous up on the high
board. He should have been -- he never quite got the knack of the front
flip. All the same, he ignored the various heckles from the boys behind and
under the board, ignored the smiling girls off to the side waiting to judge
him (him and his cute, slim growing blond god body), and took this the way
he would any challenge -- with gumption and no fear. And he launched
himself off and did his best tuck and front flip to date.

It still only got him a 2.75, with Sherry Walther once again giving him the
lowest score of the four girls. Cain did even worse, getting a 1.75. He had
only just recently learned how to do a front flip, wasn't sure how to
combine it with a `tuck', and was still smarting -- and walking funny --
from his last failed dive. Sammy went after him and came up with a equally
unimpressive 2.25 average

Michel sauntered over with another smile and started hazing Tyler again,
who suddenly stood up and just hollered out, "OK, FINE!! All Right?? Fine!!
We'll quadruple the bet again? Ok? Is that what you want, because let's
just do it !! All right???"

"Whoa, easy, Fisk. You started all this, but all right. If you're gonna be
a sore loser about it. Never mind."

"I'm not a sore loser," Tyler said emphatically.  " I can fill that debt if
you can."

"Oh I'm definitely gonna fill your debt, Fisk. You'll be leaking from
it. Just no whining and complaining when it happens."

"Fine."  Tyler said, much more calmly and holding his hand out to shake.
"No whining, complaining, frowning, fussing or any of it."

"Good. And no getting Blaine to save you."

"No getting Blaine to save me. And no getting anybody to save you."

"Yeah, fine, like I'll need that. And," Michael said with an almost
sinister smile and not letting go of the hand, "I believe you agreed to
quadruple the bet again. That would be 32."

Tyler winced slightly, and Michael saw it and smiled.  But still Tyler
manned up and said "Agreed."

They shook one more time and Michael walked away, feeling pretty good about
himself, but still a bit too uncertain to actually smile about it. Tyler
meanwhile asked Anthony Lisle to run next door to his house and get
something for him.

Frank, however, was smiling for the first time in several dives. It made
Sammy nervous, but how was he to know that this was the one dive that Frank
really knew how to do. In fact, after Frank came up for air, he found out
that he had a 4.00, which would end up being the high score for that
dive. He would have gotten higher, except Cassie had told the girls that
they were being too soft, and Selene especially had reined-in her
numbers. Plus Sherry was continuing her practice of under-valuing everyone
-- everyone except, inexplicably, Jason.

Frank pulled himself out of the pool, smiling broadly, though it slowly
faded as he realized that he wasn't sure if it was enough to beat Sammy,
after all the boy had had an impressive lead. Plus, there were no more
dives. Although neither boy knew for certain which of them was to be on his
knees servicing the other, it was now a given that one of them definitely
was.

Benjamin gave another lackluster dive, stopping briefly to give a friendly
pat on Emmett's back. Benjamin was just glad he wasn't one of the
unfortunate boys that would have to compete for the pleasure of providing
another boy oral pleasure. A brief shiver even broke through the calm boy's
placid reserve of carefree, post-virgin, summer-days demeanor.

But Emmett didn't know the first thing about front flips -- and it
showed. He got a 1.00 average point, but only because Selene couldn't
continue giving low scores and gave him a 2. The severely disappointed and
worried boy slunk off in disappointment and was replaced at the board by an
apprehensive Garth. Not only was Jason not going to lose, no matter how he
dove, but the guy's previous score assured him an entry into the top three,
especially if everyone kept getting scored low by the girls. Even worse for
Garth was the realization that he also did not know how to do a front flip,
and he wasn't so sure that his previous score would be enough to keep him
out of the bottom three if he failed miserably. The thought that he could
run the risk of having to give Jason McCoy a blowjob after all this, made
the boy want to retch.

In fact, he barely was able to keep himself from doing just that. But
clearly he wasn't hiding it very well.

"Dude, don't get in my pool if you're going to barf," he heard Chase's
quiet and discreet voice behind him on the board.

Garth spun around and realized that a concerned Chase -- concerned for the
pool, not the boy - had climbed up to check on him. Garth put on a smile
and tried to calm himself, "Oh, no man, don't worry, I'm cool."

"Yeah, well you don't look it."

Garth cleared his head and went off the board as best he could. It wasn't
bad for not knowing how to front flip to start with. He got a 2. Even Jason
and Kyle later didn't do much better (pretty much because all four girls
downgraded them at this point. They had realized by now that something was
up at the end of this competition, and for their own enjoyment had decided
to even things up a bit more.). But before those boys gave their best, it
was Michael's turn. He, like Frank, knew how to do a front flip and stepped
up on the board to show everyone.

But, given the weight of the side bet that he had made with Tyler, it was
hard to concentrate. They were up to 32 times the original bet. It was a
hefty deal to keep a hold of in his mind. And Tyler, slyly, realized this.

"Hey Michael," Tyler suddenly called out, right before Michael was to make
his run down the high board, "You want to quadruple up our bet again?"

Hunh? Why would the boy throw that out? Especially considering how poorly
he did on his own best dive, and why now?

"GO!! Michael!! You're holding up the line!"  Jason called out. The older
boy was eager to get the show on the road. He already had realized that he
was in the top three, with a good chance of dominating the Second Round and
getting his first ever complete blow job. Sure it would be from a boy, but
what did he care?  (Karlie Davenport had started to give him one, and he
had gotten somewhere between 2nd and 3rd base with her as well, but it was
all interrupted by her older brother almost catching them; since then they
had yet to try anything again.)

Confused by Tyler's sudden and unexpected offer and hurried by the demands
below that he hurry up and go, Michael turned his attention to the board
and ran down the length of it and arced upward and off the end of it; but
it was in that brief moment where you hang in the air until gravity wins
over and brings you back down that Michael suddenly realized that in his
confusion he had forgotten which dive he was supposed to do. He started
downward, the look of confusion on his face evident to everyone.

Before he hit the water he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to do a
tuck and a flip; he desperately tried to tuck in and grab his knees and
flip forward in that last split second, but all that he managed was some
gangly and spastic twist that put him going into the water on the back of
his left shoulder. He came out of the water spouting "Do Over!! Do Over!!,"
but everyone was just laughing at him.

"No seriously guys, I forgot which dive I was supposed to do. I can do this
one!!"  But no-one would listen or let him do the dive over. The score
stood, and it was the lowest so far: 0.50.

The boys finished out the round and while Charlie and Anthony rechecked the
scores, under Cassie's watchful eye, Chase poured out some cola from the
pool bar. (The boys were trying to convince Chase to try and break into the
wet bar, but Chase already knew that door was locked and secured well, and
he had no desire for the punishment that would come afterward).

Charlie was ready, and he read out the scores from highest to lowest:

"Jason McCoy -- 20.25 Mark Crane -- 18.25 Chase Havard -- 18.00 Garth Davis
-- 17.50"

Jason Mcoy was of course happy, but Mark and Chase look frustrated. Despite
trying to screw up their dives, they still ended up in the top
three. Neither of them wanted a boy sucking on their dicks. Nothing about
it sounded appealing. They could, of course refuse, but it would have been
so much easier just not to have to fool with it. Garth meanwhile, though
happy he was well clear of the punishing line, was disappointed that he
wouldn't have one more opportunity to put Jason in his place. It's like the
guy just got everything, Garth fumed inwardly.

Charlie continued reading the list. Everyone else was still on the same
edge as to who would be in the bottom three. The first four names were no
surprise, and therefore did not change much of the general angst waiting
the list. Frank and Sammy were both on edge waiting to hear which of their
names would be called out first, because the second name called out would
tell everyone which boy was going down on his knees.

"Kyle Brooks -- 17.25 Marc Patros, Turner Lowry -- tied at 17.00 Tyler Fisk
-- 16.75 Frank Ziller -- 16.25"

It was at this point that Sammy's blood fell to some unknown depth in his
body, leaving him pale, dizzy, and in shock. He didn't even register that
his name was called next.

"Sammy Collier 16.00"

All Sammy knew was that Frank's name came first, and that meant that he,
Sammy, would be down on his knees . . . . . opening his mouth
. . . . . . and putting it . . . . Frank's . . . . . . hard dick
. . . . . into . . . . . [gulp] . . . his mouth . . . . . . and
. . . . . . . . . and . . . . . . . and . . . . . . . .

Sammy was about to throw up, realizing that very soon he was actually going
to be sucking a boy's dick. Another boy's hard, warm, pulsing
dick. . . . . A DICK!! He was actually going to have to suck a dick!!!!

"Sammy, you OK? You don't look so good . . . ."  Chase asked the poor boy.

Frank breathed a sigh and almost felt as weak as Sammy, but his was from
relief. The score had been awfully close. Way too close to ever try
anything this stupid again. He was so busy being happy and relieved that he
hadn't lost, that it didn't immediately occur to him that that meant he had
also won, at least not until all the other boys whose names had already
been called came around to slap him on the back and congratulate him. The
same boys offered their condolences to Sammy, but some of those clearly
weren't very heartfelt.

Boys will be boys, and they often have delight in the temporary misery of
others -- even their best friends, if this misery is the result of a lost
bet.

The remaining four boys were, needless to say, very nervous. Well, for
Emmett and Cain, it was a foregone conclusion that they were about to have
to get naked in front of everyone, including the four girls. They weren't
just feeling nervous. They were downright nauseous. Michael was truly
nervous. It was bad enough that he had lost to Tyler in this match, but
that was something he could make-up in the special run-off of their own
bet. It was that last dive that screwed everything. Tyler had purposely
tried to psyche him out. For now he was more tense than he had been in a
long time, desperately wanting to hear his name called out next. It would
just barely put him in the clear.

Unfortunately it wasn't to be the case.

"And tied for third-to-last place," Charlie continued, "are Benjamin and
Michael, both with 15.75. Cain is next to last at 11.25, and Emmett is in
last place with 11.00."

"All right boys," Jason said out loud, "Time to strip."

There was a chorus of boys and girls denouncing Jason's supposed right of
dictating the proceedings. Finally Chase stepped in and said that there
clearly needed to be an MC for this event, and since it was his pool, then
he would withdraw his name from the winner's circle and would officiate any
further disagreements and adherences to the rules.

There was a general mumbled assent to Chase's declaration, with the
happiest two people about it being first Chase himself, as it got him out
of the running for a blow job from another boy, and second Garth. Chase
left an opening in the top three and the next one up was Garth. Chase
confirmed that Garth was now one of the top three along with Mark and
Jason; and he told the girls that it was up to them to find a way to judge
between Benjamin, who was quite taken by surprise, and Michael, who was
just downright fearful of what could happen.

"You faggot," Mark said as he sidled up to Chase, and ragged him
good-naturedly.  "You got out of that underhanded."

"Watch who your calling a faggot. You're the one in the running to have sex
with another boy. And also, you should be careful using that word around
Tyler."

"Why? Tyler's gay?"  Mark asked in surprise, looking over at the
dirty-blond boy who was even now heading over to a stunned Michael.

"No, dude. He's completely NOT gay. But he's got a really close friend who
is; and he's touchy about certain words."

"Well, are you sure about the `completely not gay' part? Because have you
overheard what he's willing to put on the line against Michael Camden?"

Chase just smiled.  "Michael just doesn't realize he's dealing with a born
hustler."

"A born gambler, maybe, but things don't look like they're gonna go so well
for him."

"Well that, Mark," Chase chided his friend with a smile, "is the difference
between a hustler and a gambler. Looks can be deceiving. I know Tyler."

Meanwhile, Tyler had gone up to Michael and taunted the boy a little.

"Wow, I've never seen somebody suck that bad off the board before."

Michael clenched his teeth but turned partially away to try and ignore
Tyler; except Tyler wasn't having it.

"You better hope you suck better than that when you lose the next
competition, or you might actually get your do-over' although I don't think
that you'll like that do-over."

"Fuck off, Fisk!"

"I guess I'll get to do that when you lose OUR competition."

Michael stepped up menacingly to the slightly shorter Tyler.  "I'm a better
diver than you, and I'm a better diver than Benjamin. The girls know this,
and they'll pick him to be in the competition. And when it's our turn to
have our own competition, you'll figure it out as well. Then when you're
bent over and whimpering, begging me to do you harder, you can say you're
sorry for doubting it."

Tyler had to smile at this fantasy of Michael's.  "All right then, if
you're so sure, let's quadruple the bet again."

"No!"  Chase interjected, coming up to separate the two. This crazy
competition kick was going too far. It was like an infection.  "No more
quadrupling."

"Fine," Michael said with a smile. Then, suddenly grabbing Tyler's hand and
shaking it, he said, "We'll just double it again."

"Deal."  Tyler said before Chase could object.

"All right, but no more changing the bet, or I'm kicking you both out. And
Michael, you better be prepared to fulfill that bet, no matter how bad. I
talked to Jason, and he said that if you lost and didn't fulfill the bet,
then he would get the entire football team make sure you did."

Michael cringed a bit when he heard this, and tried not to let the shudder
that went through him show.  "You just better be sure Tyler does what he
agreed to, WHEN he loses."

"He will," Chase said, "His best friend Blaine is a stickler for deals. He
hates welchers. So . . . uh . . . . what exactly is this bet up to?"

Michael leered at Tyler and answered, as the boy was writing something on a
piece of paper that Anthony had brought him.  "It means that Tyler here,
after he loses the competition, is going to bend over 64 times and beg me
to pound his ass good with my dick. I'm gonna put a few gallons of cum up
his hole. And the best thing is, he made it so that we can lend, sell, or
give the bet to anyone we want. I plan on lending his offered-up white ass
to the whole football team after practice one day. And I'll still have
plenty to last through the school year."

Michael was all smiles. It sounded evil, but he was more just thinking like
a randy adolescent who let an unbelievable sexual opportunity drive his
hormones off the deep end. Chase however, was virtually speechless.

"Ohhh . . .shit! Tyler are fucking crazy?"

"Maybe," the boy said, but a devious smile made Chase want to just stay out
of this one.  "It's all spelled out here on this piece of paper, including
the 64 times. So if you just sign right there Michael, we'll put this in an
envelope and seal it and let Chase give it to the winner. Deal?"

"Fine, deal, whatever. You sure are strange Tyler, to go this far cause you
want it so bad."  Michael jeered at the boy, sure in his self confidence
that he couldn't lose this against Tyler, not after the way that boy had
been diving.

Tyler just sealed the envelope and handed it to Chase. He flipped Michael
off and went to go join Marc and Turner.

"You sure you can beat him, Michael?"  Jason asked, coming up behind him.

"Are you kidding? The guy's diving like he's got a dick stuck up his
ass. But then again, maybe he's just imagining what it will be like after I
win."

Jason shook his head and smiled.  "Well, maybe I'll root for your root when
you go up against Tyler; but I sure hope you goof up on this next one. I
can't wait to get your tight lips wrapped around my big cock!!"

The other boys laughed as Michael's sudden fearful and crestfallen face
looked so funny to them. He didn't find it so funny.

"That's not funny. The girl's will rule in my favor."

But they didn't. Even though Benjamin and Michael were tied, the girls
figured that since Michael had the lowest individual dive score of the
whole competition, then he should really be below Benjamin. But they had a
caveat for Benjamin -- even though he wouldn't compete for last place, he
would have to go naked just like the other three boys.

The girls weren't stupid. They already knew that the three lowest scoring
boys would have to dive Round Two in the buff, something they were VERY
much looking forward to. But they also knew that something a whole lot
bigger than naked swimming was at stake for the loser. And if it was worse
than boys having to get naked in front of girls, it had to be plenty
bad. So they knew Benjamin wouldn't argue.

And indeed he didn't. He scarcely showed surprise before he was hooking his
thumbs into his wet trunks. This was what the girls wanted to see. Cassie
had overheard Tamara Rosen gushing to her BFF about how great Benjamin's
dick felt as she was riding down that hard boy tool. They wanted to see
it;, all they had to compare were memories of their brothers at ages 9 and
10, before the Tween modesty set in.

"And no covering up Benjamin," Cassie sweetly called out.

Benjamin just blushed further, as that had been his `escape' plan, and went
ahead and slid his wet suit down his legs and off, to the accompaniment of
laughs and catcalls by the boys. But as loud as the boys were, his
heightened senses still caught Cassie's unexpected exclamation.

"Wow, it's so big! And I didn't think it would so . . . . .nice, either."

Benjamin blushed anew. He wasn't that big, but he was a very nice size for
13 and a half. He was pushing 5 ¼ inches already, when it was fully hard,
and it had a nice thickness which hung down straight when plumped. His
balls were a good size to balance it out, and he had just the right airy
patch of pubes above each testicle, just beginning to meet in the middle.

Cassie barely caught herself from crossing her legs to keep the feeling
going that had started up her in pussy quite suddenly and inexplicably. She
wasn't the only one who was surprised. Sherry had been trying to sneak
peeks at Shane for over a year now; she had seen him hard through his pants
at church, and she didn't think he was close to this, although she did spy
some few underarm hairs last month. So he must be developing down
there. Did all boys look like this? If they did, then dating was definitely
going to be something to look forward to.

Apparently, Julie was expecting something different, too. She was actually
looking forward more to seeing Michael strip down. He was a little taller
than Benjamin, and also stronger and more aggressive and more outgoing than
the other three boys, two of whom would also soon show their stuff. She
already knew he had some tantalizing underarm hairs that bespoke of a
wonderful developing manhood below. Benjamin, however, hadn't received as
much prejudicial credit from her.

"I thought Jewish guys were supposed to be small?"  She asked, almost
sounding disappointed to be surprised.

The boys laughed, and it only served to plump Benjamin out further. The
poor boy just wasn't sure what to do with his hands.

""Hey," Frank called out next, "I thought Jewish guys got their knobs cut
off.."

Mark Crane popped him upside the back of his head.  "No, dumbass, they get
the foreskin cut, just like most of you guys did."

"Foreskin?"  Frank said, bewildered.  "I didn't get nothing cut off me."

"Well, does the end of your dick look like the end of his?"

"I guess, kinda mostly."

"Then you got cut when you were a baby, like most poor ignorant babies
around here."

"Like you, too."  Frank retorted, still not sure what this foreskin thing
was that was apparently cut off him.

"Nope, I'm still a whole man."  Mark said with an exaggerated
confidence. He then turned his back to the girls and pushed his trunks down
to haul out his uncircumcised cock.

"Dude," Frank exclaimed, feigning disgust, "put that away, I don't want to
see . . . . . . oh crap, what's wrong with your dick??"

Mark laughed and pulled his foreskin back to reveal the head. He explained
that the extra skin was the foreskin.  Frank was suddenly mesmerized, more
curious than disgusted, but perhaps a bit of both. He automatically reached
out to touch the strange skin, and then realized where he was and snatched
his hand back.

"Hey Frank, you sure you don't wanna trade places with Sammy? You seem a
lot more interested in dick."  Michael taunted the boy.

"Well you're about to taste one."  Frank answered back.

Mark pulled his trunks up and stepped between the boys.

"Hey, no fair," Cassie called out, "We didn't get to see."

"We should have judged him a lot harder," Sherry said and got a laugh from
everyone.

"Hey," Turner suddenly called out, "That means both the Marcs still got
their skin!!"

"Dude, don't just yell it out to everyone."  Marc Patros said, exasperated.
"Besides, I ain't the only one in my family like that. Alexander's still
got his, too."

"You boys like comparing your little dickies? You have fun doing that?"
Michael started in on them too.

"Shut up, Michael; he's seen it at Boy Scout Campouts."  Marc said.

"So all you do is run round with your dicks hanging out in Boy Scouts?"

"They take showers, dickwad," Jason said, thumping the back of Michael's
head. Jason wanted to stay on the good side of Marc and Turner's sisters,
who were about to pick a winner.  "And you must wanna suck my dick if
you're picking on the little brothers of the girls about to judge your
dive."

The girls were all giving him the evil eye when Michael looked over at
them.

"Oops, um, sorry!"

"Any way," Jason continued, "if you ever bothered to get a shower after
practice yourself, then you would know that Graeme still has his skin,
too."

Kyle nodded in agreement; but Michael just wanted to change the subject.

The girls had each heard the `sucking dick' exchange and they now moved off
in a group together to very quietly discuss what they had heard. That
couldn't be the bet, could it?? No way that could be the bet!! The loser
was actually going to put his mouth on the winner's boy part? Eww. Gross!!

"TURNER!! Come here!!"  Cassie barked over to her little brother. Marc
joined him just to get away from Michael.  The boys didn't want to admit
the what the outcome of the bet was, but they felt almost forced to by
their sisters. After shamefacedly begging them not to tell the other guys
that they told, they rejoined the group.

"Let's score Michael way low." Sherry said, surprising the other
girls. "And score Jason high. That'll bring Michael down a notch or two to
have to put his mouth on Jason's thing."

"NO!"  Julie said vehemently, "Michael is cute and nice. It's Jason that
really needs to come down a notch or two."

"They both could stand being brought down a little. But we'll just have to
judge the whole thing fair, even if we do know their secret bet."  Cassie
told both girls.

But Selene could see that Cassie was thinking the same as her. It wouldn't
hurt to be a lot harder on Michael than poor Cain or Emmett. And the same
with Jason. It would be a lot better if Garth or Mark won.

"Michael," Cassie called out sharply.  "Why are you still in your swim
trunks??!!"

"I'm not taking them off."  Michael said matter-of-factly.

"You better!"  Cassie said. Julie wanted to second this, but she didn't
want Michael to hear her agree, you know, just in case he ever might think
she was cute; so she just nodded to herself. She still had that small thing
for the slightly older boy.

And Michael didn't want to argue with the girls that would be judging him,
so he turned around to Chase, exasperated and seeking an appeal.  "How come
I gotta strip naked when I already gotta dive with these losers to see
who's gonna be last??"

"Cause those are the rules."  Came Chase's calm reply.  "And you're a
loser, too."

"And if you don't," Jason added, "me and Kyle will make sure all the
football players toss you out on the practice field buck naked every day
after school. Hmmm, maybe for the neeeext . . . . year!"

"And if you don't," Sherry spoke up, "Then you won't be diving by the
rules, and we will give you a zero for your dive, no matter how you dive."

"And that would make you the day's biggest loser," Jason revealed.
"Oooohhhh, I can almost feel your hot little mouth closing over my big
dickhead right now."

"You are a big dickhead," Michael mumbled. He was turning bright red from a
confluence of inevitable humiliation, rising anger, and frustration at not
being able to think of a way out of this.

Michael didn't look at anybody, but half turned away from everyone and
lowered his trunks. He was about to cry, but sheer will and anger kept him
from doing so.

"Whoa, nice butt, Michael !! Now turn around and no covering up."  Cassie
hollered out

It was a very nice butt, actually, but Michael slowly did as he was told,
wanting to curse them all. Keeping his hands away from covering up was the
hardest thing that he ever had to do. Maybe in his life! He had seen what
Benjamin had to put on display, and it made him all the more embarrassed to
show himself. While he had a cute face, a nice build, and a perfect
squeezable butt, he didn't have much to show up front.

""Oh my g---.......is that it?"  Cassie asked astonished, causing everyone
to laugh, which truly wasn't her intention.  Michael just blushed and
flushed even harder with humiliation and anger, biting his tongue, almost
literally, not to say anything back -- as if he could even find the voice
to do so right now.

Michael's penis wasn't even plumped out like Benjamin's; it was shriveled,
like his nuts, from the coolness of the breeze on his wet body. But even
hard he only barely came to 3 inches, and his nuts were the size of a boy
more than a year younger. It definitely didn't match his personality and
build.

In a few short years he would grow into an average size set of genitals,
but right now -- he had to wait for the laughter and rude comments to die
down.

It was partly his own fault; his attitude had far exceeded the size of his
nuts. And the little patch of hair, which seemed almost obscenely larger
than it should be given the relative proportions showcased by Benjamin,
only made matters worse and served to highlight that he couldn't use
puberty as an excuse for his poor offerings.

"Um," Julie now hesitated, turning back to the girls.  "On second thought,
though he is kinda cute in the face and obviously has a really nice butt,
he, um, you know, he probably could stand to be taken down a notch or two."

The other girls smiled at her turnabout and looked at each other
knowingly. Yep, Michael better have some pretty amazing dives if he wanted
to stay off his knees when this contest was over.

They told Cain and Emmett to drop their trunks as well. The two boys were
mortified, but they did as they were told. Emmett wasn't any bigger than
Michael, but he was smooth and slightly younger and the smaller genitals
seemed to fit his body. He also wasn't gregarious, or even obnoxious, so
everyone just cheered and clapped to his obviously painful embarrassment,
without really giving any thought to the naked boy, though he very much
believed he was the center of scorn and ridicule.

Cain, on the other hand, had a bit more hair than Benjamin, but a smaller
penis and slightly smaller balls, though they still dangled down and swung
as he move his legs up to pull them out of the wet trunks. He was also a
year younger than Benjamin, though he stood about as tall. Still, his
package also seemed to fit him, and went well along with the notices he got
from the girls constantly, that he was sweet, but cute, even though he had
been too self-conscious to notice their growing interest in him. In a
couple of years he would even be thought of as hot -- along with sweet and
cute.

But for now he was just trying to hide the shaking he felt coming from
somewhere inside him as he morbidly worried about what this contest for the
biggest loser was going to do to him, win or lose. But there wasn't much
time to think about that, as everyone's concentration -- well, not
everyone's -- switched to the diving board as Jason got ready to lead off
and set the pace. He got to pick the first dive for the Winners, and he
went with a combo of two things he could do but few others could.

"First dive is a split and then a back-flip, head first into the water."

Mark was relieved that even trying he probably wouldn't do as well as Jason
on this one. He would rather see Garth win it, but that was out of his
control. Garth just groaned. He could do both dives easy, but putting them
together would be the trick. And Jason did his flawlessly.

Unfortunately for Jason, he had rubbed the girls the wrong way, and the
only 5 he got was from Sherry, who almost instantly regretted doing it when
she realized she would be the only one. She blushed and resolved not to do
that again. So, just to make sure no one realized she was interested in
Jason, she also gave Garth a 5 on his turn, even though he really did just
deserve a 4. It evened him up with Jason, and he was all smiles. Mark put
in just enough effort to get a 3 average score and let the other two battle
for first.

Then it was the Losers' first dive, and Michael got to pick first, as he
had the highest overall score of the three in the previous round. Like
Jason, he wanted to separate himself from the pack. He used all the
training he had ever had in football to concentrate on the game and ignore
the crowds, the sides, and the weather, just to push his anger and
humiliation as deep down as he could, pretend he wasn't actually walking
around naked with his undersized nuts find the solace in his
competence. This done, he took off down the board for a perfect launch and
the smoothest back dive seen that day.

It really and truly was a five, if the girls had been honest. Selene even
looked at the others who also looked unsure of their prior resolve to grade
him low, except for Sherry. She held up a three. The other three girls
sighed and held up fours; at least they didn't feel compelled to give fives
after Sherry's low score. Unfortunately Emmett and Cain could hardly even
dive a back dive, and the girls struggled to give them higher scores. After
the first round, Michael had a 4.25 and Cain and Emmett both averaged a
two.

Mark Crane picked a cannonball for the next Winners' dive and led the score
for that round, but only because Jason received slightly lower scores
again, though not too much lower. And Garth was actually scored fair, with
the result being that he and Jason were still tied for the lead. On the
Losers' dive, it was Emmett's turn to pick, but he couldn't think of
anything but just a regular dive, and he didn't even do that all that well,
though he did slightly better than Cain. The girls tried to keep Michael's
score down, but he was just diving too well.

On the start of the third and last round for the winners, it was still
Jason and Garth tied for first. It was Garth's turn to pick on this round,
and he called for Least Splash as his dive of choice. He dove in, confident
that since he was shorter and weighed less than the two older boys, that he
could dive with significantly less splash. Unfortunately he had a bit of
spin that carried him over and caused his legs to tilt toward the girls.

So far, the four girls had managed not to get their hair wet or out of
place, but when Garth's legs hit the water, he slapped a wave of splash
that headed straight for and drenched Cassie and Julie. Selene broke out
laughing and gave the boy a 5, just because it was the funniest dive she
had seen that day. Cassie and Julie were not so amused and both gave him
zeroes. Sherry broke a wide smile, but she still didn't give Garth more
than a two.

Despite Jason's mediocre dives, he still came out ahead. Mark didn't even
try, and the final score went Jason 10.25, Garth 9.50 and Mark 8.75. Jason
won the match, and quite suddenly was feeling curious, and honestly a bit
nervous, about the blowjob he was about to get from one of the three boys
now lining up to dive.

Garth felt better about losing than he thought he would. He had tried, and
he had given Jason a good run. Maybe the older boy would lay off him. Who
knew? Besides, he was pretty sure he now had more to worry about from
Cassie and Julie than from Jason. Garth went over and leaned against the
wall by Benjamin, where the unfortunate 13-year-old was still on display
for everyone, half-hard and half-soft, his poor dick unable to decide where
the combined stimulation of embarrassment and public scrutiny was driving
it.

"Maybe you should always go swimming like that, Benjy; I think the look
suits you."

Benjamin tried to give the boy a hard look, but he just rolled his eyes and
turned away. Tomorrow, if he tried real hard, he could just pretend this
day never happened. Now five girls had seen his dick, one very privately
and four in its almost-full glory. He hoped he continued to stay well below
`full glory' for the four today.

It was finally Cain's turn to choose a dive, and he picked one that he knew
he could do well. It may be one of the dives that he did most. Cannonball.

But Cain's foot slipped on the board and he barely pulled himself into a
semi-tuck before he hit the water on his side and took a punishing force of
water up his nose. Cain came up coughing and didn't see the scores thrown
out. The girls tried to be extra nice -- he was so cute and so sweet, and
really turning into a nice and good looking boy -- and they bumped up his
total for that dive to 2.25, which was very generous.

Michael went next and did a perfect cannonball. But even if they gave him a
zero, he would still outscore poor Cain. So they gave him a 4
instead. Emmett held himself too tightly, mostly out of fear, and drifted
forward in his cannonball to a face plant. Just before he hit, he threw his
arms out in a panic, which of course just increased his surface area and
made it all the more painful when he hit.

"Geez, what a spaz," Julie said.

"Oh, be nice to him guys," Selene pleaded. She just wanted to be too nice
to everybody.

"Fine," Julie said, and gave the boy a 2.

The girls didn't want to see Emmett or Cain lose, especially Cain, as
Emmett was still closer to being a `little' boy. But they had done all they
could. While it would have been nice to see Michael pay the penalty of
being forced to his knees and service Jason, in reality that just wasn't
going to happen. Besides, the more they considered it, the thought of any
boy having to do that made even them shiver with something between disgust
and shock.

"Final Score for the Lose-Off," Charlie called out, pleased with himself in
how he named the competition.  "Michael Camden 10.75."

"YES!!"  Michael raised his hands in victory and grabbed his suit away from
Jason before it got spirited away.

"Hey, can I get dressed, too?"  Benjamin called out.

All four girls looked over at the gently and steadily rising tumescence of
the normally calm boy, and wondered what would happen if they drug it out
longer -- no pun intended.

"Yes, here," Mark said and threw the boy his shorts.

"Awww," Cassie said in semi-mock disappointment, "Benjy's kinda cute,
couldn't we keep him that way for the next contest?"

Everyone else just laughed and the girls got one last glance as Benjamin
pulled up his shorts up over his nuts and flopped his dick inside,
muttering to himself, " . . . . everybody to just stop calling me Benjy
. . . . ."

"Hey I'm not finished!"  Charlie called out, a little bit incensed that
everyone was shifting their attention away. After all, he's the one who did
all this hard work (well, Anthony helped) adding up and calculating all the
scores, and he wanted his 15 minutes. Or at least his 15 seconds.  "Don't
you want to hear who lost?"

"No."  It was a mumbled reply that came from Cain, who already feeling sick
to his stomach, put his hands around said stomach and bent slightly over
like he might throw up, his 3 inch semi-filled mild plumpness hanging
straight down out of a small nest of dark brown hairs, the fold of skin
heavier against that pinkish dickhead poking out and banging backwards like
a clapper against a bell on his free swinging balls as he bent over. But he
straightened back up, almost immediately, determined somewhere inside him
not to be a show for everyone else watching his reaction.

Then the gun sounded in his head as Charlie spoke again; it was like a
final shot taking out the last of his childhood:

"Emmett Selby 6.50, and . . . . sorry Cain . . . . . Cain Whitfield 6.25."

Charlie and Andrew had overheard Marc and Turner telling the girls what was
at stake, and they truly did look sorry. Even they would have rather it
been Michael. But that wasn't much consolation to Cain, who looked
devastated and in shock. He didn't utter a word or hardly show much life at
all when Jason came over and put his arm around the stricken naked boy and
simply said, "Fuckin' sweet, dude! Fuckin sweet!!"

"Can I at least get dressed?"  was the weak and almost simpered response
that came out of the boy, addressed to no one in particular, but a cry to
anyone who could or would help.

It was answered by Chase, who came up to the poor 12 ½ year old, bring the
boy's swim shorts with him and handing them over.  "Sorry about this,
Cain. But it was a fair competition, so you are going to have to give Jason
a blow job. And you have to swallow all his spunk when he shoots it in your
mouth, too. You understand?"

Cain took the shorts and just held them, dazed, but he nodded. He
understood. He understood too well.

"Well, no time like the present," Jason said still smiling and hooking his
thumbs into the front of his suit, "why don't you go ahead and get down on
your knees, and I'll feed you some dick, Cain?"

The boy blanched in abject horror. Not only was this really happening, but
it was going to happen right now! And in front of all the guys!! And the
girls too???? He would never ever get a girlfriend after this, and would
never stop being reminded of it by the rest of the guys.

"Stop!"  Chase said, emphatically, "There was nothing in the rules about
his having to do it in front of anyone. You guys can use the poolhouse,
like Frank and Sammy. And Cain, go ahead and put your bathing suit back
on. You don't have to do it naked."

"Hey! You cant . . ."  Jason started to protest.

"It wasn't part of the rules, and everyone, including you, agreed I could
modify, approve or disapprove of the final outcome. So if you want your
blowjob, that's how it will be done."

"Fine."  Jason looked a little less happy than he had before and unhooked
his thumbs from his waistband.  "But he better do it."

"Cain," Chase sighed, "I'm sorry, but if you don't suck Jason's dick and do
the best job you can AND swallow it all down -- no spitting -- then you
will do every boy out here. Got it?"

Cain didn't answer. He looked scared shitless. Chase slapped the boy
lightly and called his name.

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it."  Cain finally responded and pulled his bathing suit
on in the most despondent fashion that a boy has ever used when pulling on
swim trunks. Cain followed a renewed and pepped-up Jason as he led the way
to the poolhouse, accompanied by the cheers and clapping of the rest of the
boys (except Sammy) and the sympathies of the four girls, who felt like
they were watching Cain walk to his execution inside the poolhouse.

"Sammy, Frank, you guys might as well as go in also and get it over with."
Chase told them.

"Sorry, Sammy," Michael said sincerely, placing a hand on the back of the
boy's shoulder. True there was some perverse sexual thrill tickling at the
back of Michael's burgeoning adolescent awakening, knowing that one of his
best friends was going to such a doom, but Sammy was still his friend, and
he did feel bad on that point.

"Well, um, you, uh . . . . . you know . . . . um . . . . . ready?"  Frank
asked, half utterly excited, half fearful, and almost as embarrassed as
Sammy that all the other boys would know what was going on in the
poolhouse. Almost as embarrassed -- but only because Sammy was still a bit
in shock and hadn't fully processed it all.

It took a bit more encouraging from the other boys -- supposed friends who
were enjoying this way too much, he thought -- to actually get him
going. And even then it was a faltering walk to the fateful poolhouse for
Sammy, one punctuated even by a couple of short retreats, as if he just
couldn't go through with it. But he knew if he didn't, the other boys would
make him give blowjobs all around, especially Jason, Kyle and Michael.

He started again toward the fated poolhouse, only to stop again. He could
just refuse completely; it wasn't like they would really force him or rape
him or any shit like that. But he knew it would get around. Everyone would
know that he welshed. He definitely would no longer be welcome at their
houses or pools, or even to hang out with them, or their other friends. His
other friends. Worse, they might all lie and say he wanted to do it. Or
that he wanted to do all of them. Of course, if an adult found out, then
they would all deny it. He knew that much. And then his dad would start
wondering if he was psycho or just queer for making up a story like
that. And everyone else in the school would treat him if he was one or
either or both.

Sammy started again toward the poolhouse. The only way out of this was to
actually do it. That way the other boys were under oath not to tell anyone
else. Except he was still about to wrap his mouth around another boy's
actual erect penis and suck on it until said boy blew his real actual cum,
hot and full of his sperm, into Sammy's mouth and still thrust and fire
until Sammy kept swallowing it all and drank the last of it. This Sammy
just couldn't get out of his head. It just wasn't right. This just wasn't
right.

But eventually, to great cheers by the boys, Frank and Sammy disappeared
into the same doorway into the poolhouse in which Jason had taken poor
Cain.

"All while that's going on," Chase said, though he couldn't stop a shiver
of dread laced with disgust from running through him at the thought of what
ACTUALLY was going on in his own poolhouse, a shiver that ran through
several of the other boys as well. It was time to finish this up, he
thought, and hopefully never, ever do this again.  "While that's
. . . . well, anyway, while we're, um . . . waiting . . . there's one more
competition to do. Michael, Tyler, you two sure that you want to do this?"

"Too late for that," Tyler said, "There's no backing out."

"Dude, you're one sick fuck -- I mean, no pun intended and all -- " Michael
started, "but you can't hope to win."

"Beat you in the last competition."

"Only cause you distracted me on purpose on that last dive. That won't
happen again, Tyler. Just get ready to bend over and drop `em as soon as
this is over."

But Tyler just smiled. And it unnerved Michael, who had no idea that the
blond kid a whole year younger than him had been sandbagging every
dive. Like Chase and Mark, Tyler had not wanted to be in the top three
either. He didn't want to have sex with another boy, even if he was on the
receiving end of a blow job. It was why he had the clause put in this bet
that would allow him to sell, lend, lease, or give the rights to the debt
away to someone else. He wasn't sure, but he figured he was about to give
Blaine his best early 13 ½ birthday present ever.

While they were arguing over judges and format, Michael had drifted over to
where Tyler was talking to Marc Patros, though both boys had their backs to
him.

"Can you do this, Tyler?"  Marc asked quietly.

"No problem. Won't know what hit him."

"Are you sure?"  Marc definitely sounded worried. He didn't want Tyler to
lose this bet. And of course Michael definitely wanted Tyler to lose, so he
perked up his ears.

"I'm sure, Marc," Tyler sounded confident, but then just as surely as he
did, his confidence wavered as he said, "but . . . . I can't do another
belly flop. I'll lose for sure. I just can't do it."

"So don't pick the belly flop. Michael definitely won't."

"I'm not. But I sure hope he doesn't either."

Michael stepped away before he could get caught eavesdropping, turning
those thoughts over in his mind. Eventually, the boys added both Benjamin
and Chase as judges to balance out the girls, as Michael wasn't convinced
that they would be completely fair to him. Once that was settled he stepped
into the competition smiling and confident. He was going to wrap this up,
and he truly did start off strong with great dives.

But right away he was beginning to see that neither his confidence nor the
selections of judges mattered. Even he could see that Tyler was diving
twice as good now as he had in the last competition.

"Hey!! This isn't fair! He was just pretending he couldn't dive in the last
competition!" Michael called out after losing dives two in a row to the
blond kid.

"Prove it," Tyler said as he got up on the high board to follow Michael and
see if he could best the boy at his own picked dive. Chase and Benjamin had
picked the first dive, the girls the second, and Michael the third and
current one. It was a back dive. Michael performed a beautiful one, but the
judges were stingy with the numbers for both boys, and all he got was a
4. He was still only one point ahead now, but Tyler had yet to go. Even if
the boy only got a 1 they would be tied. And then the last dive would be
picked by Tyler. Michael had very worried and painful knot clench his belly
as he watched the graceful boy go off the board.

Tyler scored a 2, which was good since that was his worst dive. He was now
only ahead by 1 Point. Michael thought about the stupid bet that was at
stake and was truly fearful.

"Uh, Tyler, about that bet, can we, um, talk about it?"

"You want to double it again? Fine with me!"

"No!"  Came Chase's voice from across the pool.  "No more doubling!"

Michael looked thoughtfully at Chase and began turning over a few certain
thoughts in his head. He had an idea that changed his outlook on the whole
thing.  "One more doubling, Chase, just one more . . . IF . . . . ."

"If what?"  Tyler asked cautiously.

"If you make the last dive a Belly Flop."

"What? . . . . . . No."

Michael smiled. He had the little twerp. He had him. So he played it up:
"Guess it doesn't matter, Chase, the little pus-" Michael caught himself
and glanced over at Cassie and switched gears, "uh, I mean, the, uh, the
little . . . chicken . . . has decided he didn't want to raise the bet."

"Fine!"  Tyler said.  "Fine! I pick the Belly Flop; we'll double the
bet. Just go."

Tyler looked irritated and unhappy about it, and not so confident
anymore. He waved at the board to indicate for Michael to just go. Michael
smiled and went off the low board and did his best Belly Flop, which was
actually quite good and got him a 4.50. He pulled himself out of the water
with a triumphant smile. Tyler was too rattled to win this now, he was
sure. Michael was now wondering why he had ever doubted himself.

But that cockiness faded rapidly when he saw an equally triumphant smile on
Tyler's face as he went up the HIGH board for his Belly Flop.

"Wait . . .what are you . . ."  Michael had a sinking feeling that he had
been had. His feeling was confirmed when he looked over and saw Marc Patros
smiling and giving him a thumbs-up. The whole time he was being
hustled. And this sinking feeling couldn't sink much lower than the
horrible depths of misery that he saw stretching out before him as Tyler
ran off the board and did a classic Fisk Belly Flop to perfection. If the
judges could have given him a 6, they would have. Hell, a couple of them
even tried. But a 5 beat Michael all the same.

Michael was crushed. Stunned. The weight of the actual bet was too terrible
to think about, but his subconscious mind couldn't push something that
horrible away. It crumpled him, even in his state of shock. He stood by the
side of the pool, drained of all his color and feeling as though he would
collapse -- or at least that he should, except his body was just refusing
to, perhaps even refusing to admit that he was in a new reality now.

He watched as Tyler came to the side of the pool and pulled himself
out. The winning boy shook the water out of his hair and smiled and
actually held out his hand.

"No hard feelings, Michael? Good diving."

Michael just stared at the proffered hand. Was he supposed to shake that?
Signify that all was cool with him at the things he was now expected to let
this boy do to him? He kept staring at the hand, but it wasn't going
anywhere. It was waiting for his acknowledgment that they had an agreement,
a legitimate bet, and that he would pay his debts without attitude and
without complaint, just as they had agreed. But he couldn't. He couldn't
agree to that.

But still the hand wasn't going anywhere, and all was really quiet around
the pool. He realized this silence and looked around the pool at all the
stunned and somewhat sympathetic faces. It must have gotten around, the
actual details of the bet, and now everyone knew. That only made it
worse. Would the news stay with this group? Had that been part of this bet?
Or only just the blowjobs for Frank and Jason? Whatever the answer to that,
he could see that everyone, no matter what sympathies or personal horrors
they were themselves feeling at his own impending loss, they were waiting;
they were waiting for him to make a choice.

Honor the bet or not. But he couldn't do this. However, unlike Cain and
Sammy, who would be left entirely to their honor whether they fulfilled the
debt or not, a part of Michael realized that once the football team and
others found out, he would be fulfilling the idea of the debt, one way or
another. With grim resolution, then, he reached his hand forward and took
Tyler's and shook.

Chase then brought over the dreaded envelope, opened it up and added one
more change -- the last doubling, and then he made both Tyler and Michael
sign it. Worse, he made Michael write out another couple of lines (which
included some safeguards put in by Chase) and sign it, and he dictated out
loud what the boy was to write. It was all the more humiliating as now
every boy, as well as all four girls heard what the final bet would be. All
the same, he was too numb and scared to argue and he did exactly as he was
told. With last flourish of his signature, he suddenly felt like everything
was about to leave his body at the nearest exit.

"I gotta use the bathroom!"

Michael ran into the poolhouse and turned right into the bath and shower
and promptly threw up, right before he had a different eruption from
behind. The four boys in the pumproom paused in what they were doing when
they heard the hurried commotion of the rush into the bathroom just
opposite them, Sammy and Cain were reluctant to start back up until the
sounds from the bathroom guaranteed that whoever was in there would be in
there for a while.

Even still, once again Cain brought up the fact that the pumproom door was
still wide open. He wanted it shut.

"I told you Cain, I don't care if someone comes in the poolhouse and sees
you going down on my dick. It stays open, so tough shit," Jason said, none
too happy that Cain was interrupting his good feelings and once again
appearing to stall.

When they first came in it took some coaxing just to get Cain on his knees
in front of Jason, and Jason had even put down some pool foamboards for him
to kneel on. Finally the boy was down with his face just inches away from
the warm crotch, bulged up behind the wet suit of Jason. The older boy, by
almost one year, was leaning against a desk in the pumproom, and had put
his hand around Cain's head and run his fingers through the still damp
hair, encouraging him to reach forward and open up the trunks, bring them
down a little and haul out the fat dick waiting for him to suck on.

But Jason's actual words weren't much of an encouragement and caused even
more apprehension than anything else. Eventually the threat of getting a
second blowjob from the judges for his reluctance in paying this one
spurred Cain onward. With his heart thumping in fear he untied the swim
trunks, and reached inside to haul out the thickened dicksicle. It was
agonizing, and he almost winced as he felt his hand run through the nest of
dark pubic hairs that Jason had -- knowing full well that that meant the
boy could definitely cum, but then winced for real as his hand found and
wrapped around that warm hard flesh of another boy.

"No, no. no . . . ."  Cain muttered quietly, almost sobbing it out to
himself as he used his other hand to pull down the front of the trunks,
bringing into view Jason's almost 5 inches of hard boyness, his 1 inch plus
band of curly dark hairs, and his two larger sagging nuts, each with a few
fine scraggly hairs and beginning to pull up into a tight, but full,
wrinkled scrotum under his obviously charged and eager erection.

"Now get your mouth around that head, come on Cain, lick that dick head
good; get it nice and sloppy wet!"

Cain grimaced but, still holding on to the dominant boy's shaft, opened his
mouth and moved forward, although his expression showed not only disdain
and disgust, but looked like he was barely keeping himself from throwing
up.

"Oh fuck, yeah!! That feels so good! Move that tongue around--ohhhh
ffff----sshhit! Damn, Cain, that's.............mmmnnghohhhffffuck!!!! YEAH!
More tongue. Shit! Suck a little, oh fuck, yeah, like that . . . . ."

His remonstrations were embarrassing Cain, but the boy was concentrating
harder on getting the job done right, especially since he had no idea how
to actually do the job, than the general nastiness and disgust of actually
doing the job. And so he gave it his all in bathing the bulbous dickhead
with his roving wet tongue and endeavouring to swallow in the first inch or
so of shaft, as he was learning to apply light suction throughout his
ministrations.

But at that point he was interrupted by Frank and Sammy's arrival into the
poolhouse, both of whom were stunned into shocked silence at the sight of
12 ½ year old Cain Whitfield, one of the nicer guys in the school, on his
knees before the older football player, his face stuffed with almost half
the boy's cock and seeming to prove himself a natural at giving head. He
was, of course, nowhere near a natural, but it was Jason's first time to
receive one and Frank and Sammy's first time to see one being administered,
as neither boy had so much as ever even seen a porn video, just one
solitary picture once for Frank, the image of which was forever burned on
his retina of a light brown-haired woman staring up at a camera with her
lips impossibly stretched over the nice thickness of a shaft only an inch
or two from the marvelous base of that great dick. Frank could honestly
never say what stirred his loins more, the image of a woman going down on
dick,
 or the image of the perfect round hardness of dick stretching a woman's
mouth open.

But one thing he could say for certain, the sight of light-brown haired
Cain Whitfield giving a randy teen boy a blow job, on his knees before him,
was blowing his mind and about to cause him to blow his dick.

"Ohhh . . . . shit!"  Came the surprised response from the doorway when the
two boys popped in on this wild scene. But Sammy was less lifted up by this
sight than Frank, as he very quickly realized that this would be him very
shortly. Maybe even faster than he realized.

"Quit your gawking Sammy," Jason snapped at him, "and get down on your
knees and serve Frank his just reward."

Both boys blushed, but Frank still moved toward Jason at the desk and
motioned with a toss of his head for Sammy to follow. When Cain, though,
realized that there was company to witness his participation in this
disgusting act, he started to pull off; but the tender and disturbingly
caressing hand of Jason that was behind his head tightened its grip in his
hair not allowing Cain escape.

The pain of having his hair pulled like that caused the younger boy to open
wider in surprise, as that was a surprise in itself to even be possible,
and Jason used this moment to drive deeper. While he practically choked
poor Cain on hard cock, Jason made another point to Frank, now leaning up
against the desk beside him, and to Sammy, who was standing before Frank,
but like Frank watching with paralyzed fascination the obscene scene of
Cain's mouth being stretched open by dick.

"Yeah, that's it, my boy, take that dick deeper in. Frank don't waste
anymore time, but get your dick out and fuck that hot, wet, and tight mouth
of Sammy's till you can spew some splooge down his throat for him to
drink."

No one knew where Jason got such an elaborate mouth for talking dirty (none
of the boys knew Jason had a regular visitation at Ronnie Gaston's house
where the two, sometimes with Brad Sykes, would pour over Ronnie's dad's
Penthouse Letters, each coming up with dirty sex talk for the two
dimensional models on succeeding pages as they worked both their dicks and
their imaginations in pretending what and how they would do things with the
girls on the lascivious pages.)

All Frank thought, however, was "Oh fuck yeah!!"  And he pushed his wet
trunks down to his ankles and put his hands on Sammy's shoulders, forcing
the still stunned boy to his knees, grabbed his head and clumsily tried to
force his already hard dick into Sammy Collier's almost 13 year old mouth.

It was awkward going at first before the two new boys could establish as
nearly smooth a rhythm as Cain seemed to have on Jason. That was when Jason
dropped the bombshell on Cain and told him to deep throat him. As he
instructed the boy going down, he himself moved forward, as though to force
the boy's throat to be impaled on hot and eager hard dick. But Cain came
off sputtering, both that time and when Jason made him try it again.

"I cant do it!"  the boy cried, practically out of breath from his efforts.
"Let me just finish it how I was doing it. You liked that well enough."

"Yeah, I do, Cain, and you're doing an incredible job sucking my dick,"
Jason responded, watching with great pleasure as the shiver of disgust went
through the boy below on hearing these words.  "But I'm afraid it doesn't
actually qualify as a real blow job unless you deep throat, you know, take
it all the way to the base of the dick."

"What?? No way!!"

"Dude, how many blow jobs have you gotten?  I've had two by girls."  It
was, of course, a total lie, but there was no reason for the others to know
or even suspect that.  "So I know what a blow job is and is not, although
from how great a job you're starting to do, if I didn't know better, I'd
say this wasn't your first."

"Shut up, Jason," Cain shot back, angry at the accusation, and embarrassed
that he may have been giving it too much of his all.

"Easy, Cain. Look if you don't believe me, let's just go outside and let
the other guys judge if you're doing it right."

Cain looked up in surprise and fear at this suggestion. He couldn't mean
that!!! Cain couldn't surprise that!!!

"No! No, Jason, please, just . . . . don't talk about this with anyone,
ever, please!! I'll . . . .I'll try . . . ."

He didn't seem to believe even in himself that he could possibly do
this. But Jason seized on that fear and made for Cain a horrifying,
horrible `escape' offer. He didn't have to try to give Jason a proper `deep
throat' blowjob this time, as long as he kept doing what he was doing and
swallowed all the cum. Jason, on his side, would never talk about any of
this with anybody, provided Cain continued to give him blowjobs [in
private], whenever Jason wanted until he could do a `proper' one, meaning a
full deep throat blow job. Or they could just do this outside and let the
other boys all judge if or when it would be sufficient.

Cain begged him not to do it like that, but Jason wouldn't budge and Cain
eventually complied. Beat down and nearly to tears, he forced himself to
again regard that hardened piston before him and then raise his haunches
back up so that he could take it in again and make sweet love with his
tongue and gentle suctions to the dickhead and as much of the thick and
fleshy, yet unyielding, shaft as could possibly be comfortably allowed by
his mouth. The deep throat would just have to wait for later.

Frank made the same deal with Sammy, except that Sammy's mouth was a bit
bigger and Frank's dick was smaller, so Sammy didn't have any problems
meeting this requirement, at least until Frank realized he liked it better
when he was just working just the distant half of his hard dick in and out
of Sammy's barely yielding mouth.

Both Jason and Frank were reaching a peak and moving rapidly toward
explosion into their respective waiting boy mouths, when they were
interrupted by the crash of Michael into the bathroom. At first both boys
were put out by the interruption, but It actually proved to be a welcome
break for both Jason and Frank as they could now come back down and enjoy a
bit more of an extended blow job than they would have received otherwise.

But it wasn't a long reprieve, as in no time at all Jason started throwing
out `fuck's, `damn's, and `shit's with greater frequency and in various
states of elongation and punctuation and squeezed his hand tighter around
Cain's head, readying the boy for a position to receive the first load of a
boy's cum across his tongue and down his throat.

But it was Frank, first, who quietly and quickly preceded Jason to the
orgasm, grunting quietly as he fed his young and developing sperm into the
reluctant but servicing mouth of Sammy Collier, delivering more urgent and
lurching ejaculations as he felt Sammy's mouth squeeze around that
exploding tube, as he swallowed down the slimy and salty essence of a
13-year-old's testicles.

All the way down he swallowed, and all Sammy could think of was that he was
actually swallowing SPERM! Some other boy's sperm! And even more was on the
way.

It wasn't much better for Cain, as Jason was unfortunately quite vocal
about what was coming, what he should do with it (swallow it, of course)
and that there was more on the way, as indeed there was. Eventually as the
last spurt of semen exploded across Cain's tongue, and Cain dutifully
swallowed it down, all the while fighting the urge to vomit the disgusting
slimy mess. He was cognizant of nothing but that these were strands of
millions of sperms, swimming boy sperms (for his parents had bought him a
fairly detailed `growing up' book on puberty) and that they had been made
in Jason McCoy's testicles and that he had sucked them, after much effort
and `willingness' on his part, out of Jason McCoy's hard, nearly 5 inch
dick.

And this same Jason McCoy, arrongant first line 8th grade football player
at the same middle school Cain went to, now pushed the boy off his
sensitive dick and smugly looked down and smiled and said, "Good job,
Whitfiled; let's see how much better you get over the summer."

Cain wanted to protest, but at this point he was too used and abused to
feel he could really stand his ground. And Sammy and Frank were each busy
in their post-orgasmic disgust and euphoria, respectively, that they didn't
hear the threat. In the end, he didn't protest it, but just stood up and
walked out of the poolhouse, holding his hand over his stomach like he was
going to be sick, and using the back of his other hand to wipe away any
remaining traces of cum and spittle.

Jason followed behind, looking quite satisfied, both in sexual release and
in the sense of victory and domination on the field of battle. He was
adjusting his swim trunks and re-tying them, both boys being treated to
applause and hoots and hollers as they came out. They followed by Sammy and
Frank, who was also adjusting his swim trunks, as if he had just pulled
them up and had pulled them up crooked. Frank smiled shyly and gave a wave
and a thumbs up to all the other boys who were now switching from cheering
to laughing.

Tyler was sitting with Blaine now, who had also shown up looking a bit
dazed and sexually depleted, though that seemed to be a story for later. In
the meantime Tyler gave him an envelope, on the outside of which was
already opened, the letter inside having been amended one last time.

He read the original bet and all the multiple changes, as well as Chase's
addition of where the bet had been changed one last time. Then he read the
last paragraph, the one that was dictated out loud by Chase in front of all
the other boys and girls at the pool. It was all in Michael's hand --
albeit a shaky one -- and read, as follows:

		"I, Michael Camden, going into eighth grade at Jolsen
Middle School, promise that I have fairly lost this competition against
Tyler Fisk and do agree to fulfill my debt, which is that Tyler can at any
time ask for my ass to be fucked in private up to 128 times in the next
year. I also agree that this debt can be sold, lent, leased, or given to
anyone Michael wants, as long as they are within two years my age."

"Oh Shit!!"  Blaine exclaimed, "Chase actually said all this out loud, in
front of everybody??"

"Oh yeah," Tyler said, "Everybody heard it, no doubt."

"Poor, Michael. I mean I know he's a dick sometimes, but he's mostly
nice. Much of the time, at least."

"Well, the debt belongs to you now, so . . . . ."

"Me?"

"Yeah, Happy early, early, early birthday, or . . . . Happy
Whatever. Anyway, the rules say I can give it whoever I want, so . . . it's
yours. If you feel that sorry for Michael -- here he comes out of the
bathroom now -- you can let him out of the debt."

"Well," Blaine looked back at Michael who had turned around to get a towel
off a hook outside the poolhouse. He watched that amazing outline of ass in
what looked to be a newly wet swim suit (Michael had showered after his
incidents in the bathroom).  "I don't know if I feel THAT sorry for him. He
did lose a bet, after all, and debts do have to be paid. I guess I could
help you see to it that he honors the bet."

Tyler smiled, almost laughing at his friend. He was still uncertain how
Blaine might take it, but said "I kinda thought you would like this."

Tyler wasn't blind. Blaine knew this, but it didn't stop the older boy from
blushing, realizing that his best friend had seen his almost shameless
panting after Kelley's ass, and now staring at Michael's virgin molded
globes.

"Thanks, Tyler . . . . . but, uh . . . . . you really cut it close with
something major here. You REALLY have to quit making challenges."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

"I think I just did."

But Blaine still smiled and called Michael over. Michael dreaded this and
you could see the apprehension growing in his eyes.

"Do me a favor, Tyler, and just trust me on this. Don't give me this debt,
just loan it to me."

Tyler sighed. He really didn't want to hold onto this. He'd almost rather
just let the older boy go and forget about it as nothing more than a sweet
victory won. But he said OK just the same, not sure if he wanted to wonder
in the back of his mind what Blaine was thinking.

Blaine was about to give Michael his first assignment, with emphasis on the
ass.

While this unfolded, Garth had sidled up to the stricken and pale Cain
where he sat in a corner, just wanting to be ignored and left alone, more
than he ever had before. Garth sat down, though, and whispered to the boy.
"Hey, Cain, I'm real sorry it was you that had to . . . . you know."

"Thanks," mumbled the boy who later that night would just be quietly
distraught.

Garth looked uncomfortable as he continued to sit there and play a possible
few scenarios in his head, until he could get to where he could put his
real reason for coming over into words.

"See, uh, thing is, um . . . . . . since you, you know, already did that
already, you know, to Jason . . . . um . . . I was, uh, wondering if
. . . . if maybe you could do it to me too. I mean, you know, cause I
almost won. Sorta."

Cain looked at Garth disgusted. He couldn't believe the boy would even
think of asking him such a thing.

"No!"

He said it in such a way as to register his feelings, that it was
astonishing he could even ask and indicate that it was about the stupidest
question Cain had ever heard. He got up and walked over to his towel, just
three feet away, and dried his face, not that it needed it, but just to
take him out of reality for a moment to get the courage to just leave, go
home, get a shower, crawl in his bed and maybe cry himself into an early
sleep. Or maybe just go home and sit on the couch in shock until his mom
and dad had him committed.

While Cain was like this, Jason walked up the boy and cupped his ass and
gave it a general squeeze, leaning in and whispered hoarsely in his
surprised ear: "Come to my house tomorrow, about 2 in the afternoon. Oh,
and uh, you won't be needing these swim trunks . . . or anything else."

Jason walked off, winking at Garth as he left the pool with Kyle. Cain
didn't say anything; he hadn't even pulled away. He wasn't being asked by
the older boy; he was being summoned. And he knew he would go. But quite
suddenly he was angry, and his anger flared. He had done that in public!
Grabbed him in public! When he promised that he wouldn't talk about what
happened in the poolhouse at all, Cain had assumed the discretion was
pan-applicable.

Garth saw and heard it all, and was himself angry, though
unjustifiably. His anger still stemmed from his lack of justice against
Jason, and his perception of special status for the horrid boy. He took his
leave of Cain, but gruffly said before he left: "You're going over to HIS
house? You'll do him AGAIN, but you won't even do me once??!!"

This set Cain off, and he whirled around and told Garth, "If you want it so
bad, Garth, why don't you come over, too !!"

He didn't mean it. He was being sarcastic and had had enough. Cain had had
his say and stomped off, leaving the pool area, maybe for good, he
thought. But deep inside, he knew where he was going tomorrow
afternoon. And for that he was angry at himself as well as everyone else,
Jason included.

The one last thing Cain did that day was run into Selene and Cassie on
their way home. They wanted to say they were sorry, but just sure how or if
they should. In the end it was meekly said and meekly met.

"Thanks," Cain mumbled, his head down.

"We still think your one of the sweetest, cutest and nicest boys in the
school, though, Cain," Cassie offered.

It was hard for Cain, to ask what was on his mind, but he eventually did,
before he parted ways with the girls. "Um, Selene, Cassie, if, uh
. . . . . if you was girls and maybe interested in me, would you have gone
out with me before today?"

Both of them smiled genuinely.  "Well, we are girls, Cain, and yes we most
definitely might have."

Cain gave a slight smile, but that disappeared as he asked the question
that he really wanted to know. What about if you was a girl and you knew
what I had done t-t-to . . . .Jason? Would you ever go out with me then?"

Both girls looked at each other with expressions that said they would
rather answer any question but that one.

"Yeah," the boy said sadly, "That's what I thought."

He turned and walked away to his home.

"Cain! Wait!"

But they weren't going after him; they just felt bad about how things had
turned out.

"I'll be OK."  He called back, but without turning around. He eventually
would be, too; but he had been put in the wrong catapult facing the wrong
direction. He was not looking forward to school anymore.