Date: Wed, 9 Aug 2006 16:35:51 -0400
From: kicky1000@yahoo.com
Subject: Country Fun for City Kids

			 Country Fun for City Kids

				    by

				Little Dan

It was something we were doing for our church group.  Clara and I both
taught high school English and had our summers free, so when our church
established a summer camp for underprivileged boys and another camp for
underprivileged girls, we volunteered to help.

Needless to say, neither of us had had much experience with
underprivileged kids.  We lived in a very ritzy area of Connecticut, and
though we each taught at a different academy, we taught teenagers from
wealthy families.  Perfect young ladies and gentlemen.

The girl's camp where Clara would be a counselor was on Lake Skagamokie
in Northern Massachusetts, while the boy's camp was further north, on
Lake Shinnamamera in New Hampshire.  I had never been there, but they had
pictures of the site at the church, and it looked really beautiful.
Idyllic.  I was going to be the music counselor.  I was preparing for my
stint by daily practicing my Bach Two Part Inventions, which I had
neglected for many a year now.

The children were being gathered in the inner cities.  Poor children, who
had never had a breath of fresh country air.  Children who came from
broken homes.  They were not teenagers.  They were much younger.  We were
opening our hearts to nine and ten-year olds.  I felt as if I were doing
a really good deed, and was looking forward to the summer.  I was about
to do the Lord's work.  Praised be he.

I went up to the camp several days before the boys were scheduled to
arrive.  The counselors, all from our church group, were undergoing an
orientation program.  We met daily to discuss how to handle whatever
psychological problems the boys might have, and we spent much time in the
chapel, praying for guidance.  We so wanted to have a positive effect on
these young lives.

Finally, on July 12th, the campers were scheduled to arrive.  I was in
charge of bunk number 11, which had 12 cots.  There would be eleven boys
and myself.  It was an awesome responsibility.

The boys were coming up from the city in large yellow buses, which the
church had hired.  We had gone to many of the worst inner-city schools,
and told them we were prepared to deal with their most undisciplined
students.  We knew we would succeed.  We had the Lord on our side.  And
we were bringing HIS light into their young lives.  They would be
transformed.

Such were our high hopes, when the buses arrived and the doors opened,
disgorging over 200 new campers.  They poured out of the buses, screaming
and yelling, and punching each other, and screaming foul language.
Well.  They were young, and they were high-spirited.  We would soon
civilize them.

Ferdie Fenway, the head counselor blew his whistles and tried desperately
to get the lads to quiet down.  It wasn't easy.  He finally had to talk
through an amplified bullhorn to be heard.  He called out the number of
each bunk and the names of the campers who had been assigned to that
bunk.  Finally, he was finished and the boys were told to form separate
groups according to where they would be housed.

There was an area marked off with a sign, `Bunk Eleven" and I stood
next to it, waiting for my charges to group around me.  It wasn't
happening.  Nothing was happening.  Most of the boys seemed to be
confused.  At the time I thought they were being contrary.  It was only
later that I learned that many of them couldn't read.

We, counselors, had to go around boy by boy, to ascertain who they were
and where they belonged.  After more than two hours, I had assembled my
crew and I led them to the plywood cabin where we would be residing.
Bunk number 11.

I had selected the cot in the very back, near the bathroom for myself,
and I assigned each one of the youngsters to a bed, depending on who was
standing nearest to me as I reached the cot.

I won't bother you with a description of each of the boys.  It would
take forever.  They were very disparate types.  Some were small for their
age.  Some were tall for their age.  And they represented a very rainbow
of cultures from the four corners of the earth.

I will just list their names here, so that when I mention them later in
my confession, they will not be strangers to you.

They were: Lamar, Julio, Alberto, Rosco, Abdullah, Jose, Osman, Wa Hui,
Sanjay, Ahmadu, and Denzel.

As we got near the back of the cottage, I assigned Lamar to a cot.

"I don't want this one," said Lamar.  "I want that one."  And he
pointed.

"That one is mine," I explained.

"I want that one," he insisted.  "You takes this one."

"No.  I have to be in the back.  I'm the counselor.  I can't be right
in the middle of the campers."

"Says who?"

"Says me," I saysed.

"Motherfucker," said Lamar.

"What did you say?"  I asked him.

"I said `Motherfucker.  You a fuckin' motherfucker."

I was furious.  How dare a nine-year-old boy talk to an adult like that?
And what language.  I should have washed his mouth out with soap.  But I
stood firm.  I was not going to let him have his way.  I made him take
the cot I had assigned him, whether he liked it or not.

The church had supplied camp uniforms to all the boys, and given them
each a bathing suit.  After we were all settled in, I let the boys change
into their bathing suits and led them down to the lake for a nice
refreshing swim before dinner.

After their swim, I let them dress for dinner, but first I took them into
the chapel for an hour of prayer and thanksgiving for the opportunity of
attending Camp Hallelujah.  I told Lamar that he was to pray for
forgiveness for his bad behavior earlier in the day.  He laughed in my
face.  I was not going to let Lamar deter me.  I was determined to open
their young souls to the beneficence of the Almighty, before they
returned to the slums.

I would make each one of them an apostle, spreading `true faith' to the
other lost souls in the godless city.  I was going to spread the word.  I
was going to be a force for good.

Every moment of every day became a trial for me.  To say that the boys
were impolite and ill behaved would be understating it.

"Stop throwing bread," I would say in the mess hall.

"Stop hitting each other with pillows," I would yell in the bunk.

I was trying desperately to keep an even temperament, and not scream at
them the way I now wanted to.  I also wanted to knock each and every one
of them senseless.  But I restrained myself.  I prayed for forbearance,
and I restrained myself.

At night, I put the boys to bed early and went to practice my piano in
the auditorium.  Bach's two-part invention number three was exceedingly
difficult for me.  After an hour or so at the piano, I was ready to head
into the chapel and join my colleagues in prayer.  At around l0:30, I
would head back to the bunk and get ready for bed.  One night, I noticed
that there was a lot of conversation going on before I entered the dorm.
I had noticed that before, and yet when I pulled open the screen door and
entered, there was a vast stillness.  It always seemed the boys were
deeply asleep.  Their breathing was even and measured.  But this one
night, I didn't open the screen door.  I hovered outside and carefully
listened.  By now, I knew their voices and knew who was speaking.

JULIO:  Ay.  She some mama.  With the big tits and the big ass.  She sell
her coochie all around the neighborhood.  But she like me.  She give it
to me for free.  Ay.  What a hot mama.  She got some tight hot juicy
pussy.

DENZEL:  We got this here little bitch in the second grade.  And like I
knew she was comin' on to me.  And I said to her, you comin' on to me.
And she said what you talkin' about.  An' I say, shit, you know what
I's talkin' about.  And she say no I do not.  So I just walk her home
from school one afternoon and say I want to carry her books for her, and
she think I bein' a gennleman, but when we pass this alley, I drag her
in, and stand her up against the wall, and lift her skirt, and stick my
stiff into her.  Man.  She scream.  She cry.  But it was great.  I shoot
my load in her.  It was my first load.  And it felt great.  And I think
she like it too, because every day now she ask if I walk her home and
carry her books for her, and I say sure, cause you know, hell, every day
I fuck her pussy now.

LAMAR:  Hell.  I don't need no second grade pussy.  I got my big sister
right at home.  She a real woman and she love dick.  She do everything
fo' me.  She suck my cock.  And she let me put it into her cunt, and we
fuck all de time.  All de time.  I loves my sister.

SANJAY:  My mother says to me, Sanjay.  You are big boy now.  And you
know your father is away from home working late shift many nights.  And
you know how lonely mother gets when she is all alone.  Mother wants her
little Sanjay to get in bed with her and keep her company.  Sanjay is
mother's good boy.  Mother loves her little Sanjay so much.  Oh, my
goodness.  What is that stiff hard thing sticking out of your pajamas?
And I tell her what it is, but I think she already knows.  And she starts
laughing and grabbing hold of it, and saying my Sanjay is such a big boy
now, he has a stiff penis.  And she asks me if I know what to do with a
stiff penis, and I say no I don't, because when my penis is not stiff, I
can make a wee wee, but when my penis is stiff, I can't, so I don't
know what to do with a stiff penis.   And my mother says to me.  Sanjay,
my darling boy.  Mother is going to teach you what a stiff penis is for,
and she gathers me in her arms and we start kissing on the lips, and then
my mother sticks her tongue in my mouth, and my penis is getting stiffer
and stiffer and stiffer, so that I will never be able to make a wee wee
if I have to, but mother takes my stiff penis in her hand and starts
rubbing and rubbing, and it feels so good.  Oh, mother, I say.  It feels
so good.  What you are doing?  Don't stop.  Please don't stop.  And she
says to me it can feel even better, do you want to see?  And I say yes.
And she moves down on the bed, and unsnaps my pajama bottoms and pulls
them off, and then she starts kissing me on my balls and on my penis.
And it feels so wonderful.  I never felt anything like this.  And I say
Oh, mother.  It feels so good.  What you are doing.  Don't stop.  Please
don't stop.  And she says to me it can feel even better, do you want to
see?  And I say yes.  And she lifts off her nightgown, and pulls me on
top of her on the bed, and my lips are right near her big swelling
breasts, and she says lick them.  And I lick them.  And I like licking.
And they are so smooth.  And it feels so nice.  And mother is rolling and
moaning, and I know she is liking it too, and then she takes my stiff
penis, and guides it into a wet opening between her legs, and I sink down
on top of her, and I never felt anything like this, and now I am moving
up and down on top of her, and my penis is moving against the walls of
where I am in, and it feels so wonderful.  And after a few minutes an
unbelievable feeling happens and suddenly I can feel squirts of liquid
coming out of my penis, and I hope I am not doing wee wee, but mother
tells me do not worry, it is not wee wee.  It is cum, and I am a big man
now, and can make mother feel happy when father is not home, because I am
even more her precious son now.  And we are going to fuck every night.
Every night.  That's what it was, she said.  Fucking.  I love fucking.

ABDULLAH:  My penis is getting hard with all your stories.   But I have
never done anything like that, because being naked is a sin.

Good for Abdullah, I thought.  This was much worse than I feared.  How
could children of this age know so much about these things?  I had been
totally chaste until my wedding day.  I had remained pure and
stain-free.  And even now Marie and I engaged in dutiful intercourse only
bi-monthly, and this only to cement our marital relationship.  Neither of
us really enjoyed physical engagement that much.

"Dear Heavenly Father.  I pray for your guidance.  Help me in teaching
these young souls moral values, so that they may shine as lights from
your eye.  Help me to cleanse their minds of sex and filth, and to stamp
out the scourge of carnal sin forever more."   I unclasped my hands and
pulled open the screen door.  Silence overwhelmed me, but now I knew
better.

From then on, I gave them not a moments rest. I worked them.  I bullied
them.  I forced them to pray five times a day, facing Bethlehem.   When
they misbehaved, I grounded them, not letting them swim, play ball, or
even come into the mess hall for dinner.  They were growing to hate me.
I saw their little angry eyes watching me all the time.

And then they started whispering all the time, as their eyes followed
me.  I tried to catch what they were saying, but the minute I got within
hearing range, they clammed up.  Was I handling this right?  I didn't
know.  I went into the chapel and prayed for guidance.

"Dear Heavenly Father.  Help me to instill your love into their young
souls.  These children need your heavenly guidance.  I pray thee, come
down unto them.  Amen"

That night I went to the auditorium and played it perfectly for the first
time.  My Bach two part invention number three.  The counterpoint was
dead on.  I felt I had conquered baroque music, even without a
clavichord.  I went into the chapel and offered up more prayers for the
immortal souls of my deeply flawed Bunk 11 boys.  Then I crept up
silently and stood outside the screen door, listening.

LAMAR:   That fuckin' Hubert,  (That was me.  I was Hubert.)  That
fuckin' Hubert.  I'm gonna get his nasty ass.  Just you wait and see.

JOSE:  Me first, man.  I'm gonna nail his fuckin' ass to the
floorboards.  I didn't get no dinner tonight.  That fuckin' prick
bastard.

ROSCO:  You, man?  I didn't get no lunch AND no dinner.  I gonna make
that muthafucka pay.

DENZEL:  He done been askin' for this since the beginnin', man.  He
gonna get his.   I'm gonna whup his faggot ass but good.

Those little bastards.  They really hated me.  And all I ever wanted to
do was to bring peace and enlightenment into their hard little hearts.

ALBERTO:  Ssshhh.  I think I heard somethin' outside.

AHMADU:  You imaginin' things, man.  I didn't near no nothin'.  How
about you, Sanjay? You hear anything?

SANJAY:  I think maybe was the wind.

If it was the wind, the wind had had enough.  I pulled open the screen
door.  I was ready to confront them.  I was furious.  How dare they?  I
had expected that they would fall silent and feign sleep as usual.  I was
wrong.   The minute the screen door closed behind me, they were on me in
a pack.  They surrounded me.  They grabbed my arms and tied my hands
behind my back.  They dragged me to the back of the bunk and threw me
face down on my cot.  I was stunned.  I couldn't move.  I couldn't
react.  Those little bastards.

"Okay, now, you faggot motherfucker.  Now, you're gonna get yours,"
Lamar hissed into my ear.  They all started murmering  "yeah, yeah,
yeah," like a pack of wolves.  I was beginning to be terrified.

Suddenly Julio pulled out a switchblade and flashed it in front of my
eyes?  Were they going to kill me?  "Dear Lord, protect me in my hour of
need.  I pray thee."  The knife came down and began to slash through my
clothes.  It was only my camp uniform, but still.

In no time flat, the monsters denuded me.  They gathered all around the
cot, looking at my bare buttocks and laughing.

Then they brought ropes and tied me to the bed.  There was a rope across
my neck.  There was a rope across my feet.  There was a rope across my
ankles.  I was stark naked, bottom up, and totally helpless.  I tried to
struggle against the ropes, but all I got for my trouble was rope burn.
I soon accepted my fate, and lay completely still, waiting for what was
to come.   I couldn't even imagine the horror that was ahead of me.

"Dear Lord, whatever I've ever asked you for before, forget it.  Now is
what counts.  Smite these little demons.  Send them forthwith to the
fiery kingdom from whence they came, and where they must now return.
Now.  Now.  Now.  Smite them.  Smite them.

I was waiting for the smiting, but what I got was a smacking.  Lamar's
hand was slapping my naked buttocks.  He was spanking me.  And it hurt.
My behind was beginning to sting.   And now the others started. I had
somewhere between 11 and 22 hands potching my behind.  Tears began to run
down my cheeks.

"Stop it.  Stop it," I screamed.

"Like hell we will," said Rosco, and gave me a crack across my face.

"Your ass is ours, now," said Lamar.  "Your hot red faggoty ass."

I thought he meant that figuratively.  I thought it was just a hostile
expression.  I was wrong.  Suddenly, they all started stripping off the
underwear they slept in.  I had eleven nude youngsters closing in around
me.

"Me first," said Lamar, and he climbed on top of me.  He was half my
size, and straddling my midsection.  I couldn't even begin to imagine
what they had in mind.  This was beyond any experience.  Suddenly I felt
a sharp fleshstick plunge between my bottomcheeks and stab at my tender
flesh.  He was jabbing me with his little penis and bruising my closed
sphincter.  But then suddenly, like a needle, it pierced my tender
butthole, and he began a vertical cross-stitch into my ass.   He was dry,
I was dry, and it hurt.

"Take that, you motherfuckin' faggot," he crowed as he plunged into
me.  Tears spilled down my cheeks, and with my hands tied, I could not
fold them in front of me, but I prayed.  No.  Not for death, but for some
kind of heavenly mercy.

"What a hot tight ass this faggot got," praised Lamar.  "It feel so
good all around my dick."

"What do you think you're doing?  Get off of me.  This instant," I
screamed.

And with that, he smacked me upside the head, and said, "Shut up,
Bitch."

He was barely 80 pounds.  A little mite of a thing, bouncing around on my
adult back and bottom, like a fly biting the back of a camel, but the
camel felt the fly, and I felt Lamar.

"Hurry up, Lamar," said Jose.  "I wanna stick my pinga inside his
ass.  I need to get off."

"Don't rush me, man," said Lamar angrily.  "This here too good.  I
wanna take my time and enjoy this ass.  We got all night ahead of us,
don't we?"

"Yeah," said Rosco.

"Yeah," said Wa Hui.

"He has a pretty ass," said Sanjay.  "Round and firm like my mother's
breasts."

"Yo mama's tit's, you asshole.  Can't you learn to speak proper?"
Denzel chided Sanjay.

I felt Sanjay's little hand caressing my mounds.  The mounds that were
bouncing under the force of Lamar's pounding.

"Oh, man.  I gonna cum.   I gonna shoot one big hot load into this tight
faggot asshole."

That thought sent me over the edge, and in a barely audible voice, I
began:

"The lord is my shepherd."

"Oh, man.  Here it comes.  Here comes my hot load, into his ass.  Oh.
Yeah.  Yeah.  Yeah."  He was slamming into me.  Slamming.  And then I
felt it.  The hot boyliquid shooting into my body, one gush after
another.  I was defiled.

"My rod and my staff."

"Man.  He got one tight pussy man," announced Lamar climbing off my now
sweaty back.

"Yo, man.  Me next," said Jose who was taller than Lamar, but his pinga
seemed to be about the same size.

"You gonna get some Spanish dick now, puta," promised Jose, now forcing
his pInga into my cum-lubricated opening.  It slid right in.  After all,
it was only a child's pInga, and now I was moist.  He began to fuck up
and down on top of me.  His pInga wasn't very thick and it was stabbing
into the walls of my ass and hurting a little, so I tightened my muscles
around it to keep it from veering in different directions.

"I shall not want.  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures."

"You is right, man.  This here one hot tight pussy.  Take my Spanish
cock, bitch.  Work that pussy on my pInga, cunt."

"He leadeth me beside still waters."

"Oh, man.  This cuntpussybitch is gonna make me cum.  I'm gonna shoot
my hot cum into this hot pussy ass.  Oh, man.  Oh, man.  Oh, man.  Here
it comes.  Take it bitch.  Take my hot cum.  You pussyputa.
YAAAAGGGHHHH."  And his hips started a frantic pummeling against my
asscheeks as I felt more liquid spurting into me.   And spurting.  And
spurting.  And spurting.   He was like the fountain of Trevi.  Would he
ever stop flowing?

Jose climbed off me and now Sanjay climbed on.  He patted my cheeks with
adoration.  He had likened them to his mother's tits, and he liked the
swell of them.  They were all veritably crawling all over me the way the
Lilliputians had crawled over poor fettered Gulliver.

"I am going to give you great pleasure and joy.  Like I give to my
mother," Sanjay assured me.  I think maybe he didn't hate me as much as
the others did, and he actually thought his penis was going to give me
pleasure.   He inserted it gently.  It did feel kind of nice.  He was
fucking my ass in a very slow, gentle, caring motion.  He was a nice
boy.  Yes.  It was feeling much better than it had before.  It was like a
pleasant little tickle inside of me.

"You have nice pussy," Sanjay complimented me.  "It is very hot and
very tight.  My mother's pussy is not so hot and tight as this.  I like
your pussy very much.  You are giving Sanjay much delight."

"He restoreth my soul."

"You say something?" asked Sanjay.

"He guideth me in straight paths for his name's sake."  (Straight
paths, indeed.)

"He talking crazy," announced Denzel.   "Hurry up, man.  I gotta get
mine."

Very soon Sanjay started humping his little body against me, and making
strange cooing noises, and now I was being anointed with more boyjuice.
I felt a little of it bubble out of my hole, as Sanjay climbed off me,
but I tried to hold it in.  I didn't want to make obscene peristaltic
noises in front of these boys.

And then Denzel got his.  Denzel was very developed for his age.  I
couldn't imagine that a nine your old, four-foot-high boy would have had
a penis that size.  It was some kind of abnormality.  I feared what it
would be like when he grew up.  It went into me.  Not without
difficulty.  I struggled to adjust my body to it.  The last thing I
needed was to end up in the hospital with a torn rectum.  How would I
explain that?  No one could ever know about this.  Ever.  Ever.

"Man.  This cunt all sloppy."  I could hear all the liquid inside me
swooshing obscenely as Denzel lowered himself into unexplored depths,
displacing the pint of cum already within my channel.   Swoosh.  Swoosh.
Swoosh.  It was embarrassing, but it didn't stop Denzel.  "This here
like fuckin'  a Jacuzzi.  Course I ain't never been in a Jacuzzi, but
this here pussy like a Jacuzzi.  This here one sweet Jacuzzi pussy."

"Yea. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death."

"Man.  This slutwhore gonna make me cum too fast.   Slow down, bitch,"
and he smacked me upside the head, but I wasn't even moving.  He was
doing it all.  And then he started screaming.   "RRRRGGGHHHH.
RRRRGGGGGGHHHH,"  as I felt the pulsations of his overly long, overly
thick member within me, and more searing hot liquid was ejected into my
bottomless bottom.  I was a living receptacle for cum.  Denzel gave my
rear a vicious swat as he climbed off me, and was replaced by Wa Hui,
whose small penis I would probably barely feel, after what Denzel had
punished me with.

"I will fear no evil."

Before entering me, Wa Hui opened a small bottle filled with what I later
learned was the juice of a rare Chinese herb generally used for
teething.  He poured some of this over his fingers and worked them into
my drooling asshole, and everything caught fire inside my asswalls.  It
itched.  It burned.  I needed something in there quickly.  I needed
something moving against my inner walls.  I tried to move my tied hands
lower to get a finger inside and rub.   Wa Hui pushed my arms up and I
screamed, but his little cock went into my hole and provided the needed
stimulation.

"Oh, yes.  Oh, yes.  Fuck me.  Fuck me.  It feels so good.  It feels so
good."  What was I saying?  I was totally disgusted with myself.  I
tried to get the pleasurable feelings that were happening inside my
rectum out of my mind.  Was I now a male harlot cursed and destined to
rot and burn forever in the fiery kingdom across the river Styx?

"For thou art with me.  Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."

Was his rod and his staff ever comforting me, I noted.  I broke forth in
another obscene verbal outburst.  "Oh, Wa Hui.  Fuck me with thy rod and
thy staff.  Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."

"This ladyman is talking so sexy, he is making me hot.  He is making me
want to shoot my load very soon."

"Shoot it, Wa Hui. Shoot your fucking load.  I want to feel what his ass
is like.  I never had fuck.  I want fuck.  I want fuck now.  I need fuck
now.  Let fuck.  Please hurry and let fuck," yelled Osman, almost insane
with lust.

Wa Hui coated my insides with another cup of viscous fluid.  I was
virtually carrying an internal river.  It was getting harder and harder
not to let the raging current break forth in a huge tidal wave.  But I
persisted.

I lost count of how many little men were bouncing around on my back.  How
many pre-adolescent dicks were penetrating me.  How many litres of liquid
were squirting into me.   After a while, I just lay there in an almost
semi-conscious state and let it just happen.  There was no pain.  There
was just a pleasant friction working inside me, and I found after awhile
that despite the rope around my waist, I was raising my bottom up to meet
their downward thrusts, and the seductive feeling of all those tight
little balls banging against my behind--------

There was Osman.  There wasRoscoe.

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies."

There was Alberto.  There was Ahmadu.   Ahmadu brought his own little
bottle of rare African body oil, and rubbed it over my back and into my
hair.

"I like this smell," he explained to the other boys.  "Very sexy
smell."   When he climbed on me, his penis was not erect, but he moved
up and buried his nose in my fragrant hair, and I felt his little rod
stiffening on my lower back.  The fragrant oil had put lead in his
pencil, and the pencil entered my ass and began writing a new chapter in
boy-man sex.  The fragrance was getting to me as well as his decently
proportioned African prick and I had trouble concentrating on holy
things.

"Thou has anointed my head with oil; (literally,) my cup runneth over."

If my cup wasn't running over, my ass certainly was.  It was becoming
more and more difficult to contain the liquid bubbling.  But finally
there was only one boy left who had not yet violated me.  Little
Abdullah."

"Come on, Abdullah.  Your turn."  They all urged him on.

"No.  No," protested Abdullah.  This is sin."

Ordinarily I would have said to myself, `Good boy, Abdullah.'  But now
I was not so sure.  He was a sweet boy, and I thought that it would be
nice to be his first.  You never forget your first, they say.  He would
always remember me with fondness and gratitude.  Yes.  I actually wanted
him to fuck me.

"No.  This is sin.  Being naked is sin," protested Abdullah, and even
though he had a little erection, Abdullah reached down to the floor for
his underwear.  He was going to cover his immodesty.  He had sinned.

"Ain't no sin.  Is you crazy, man?  You got a nice hot pussy right here
in front of you, and you ain't gonna fuck it?  Is you crazy man.  When
you ever get a chance like this again?"  Lamar asked Abdullah.

Abdullah stood there for a moment wavering in great uncertainty.  It was
a fatal moment.  As he hesitated, Jose ripped the undershorts from his
hand.  In that  moment, he allowed Rosco, Julio, and Sanjay to boost him
up onto my back, with his hard little penis facing down between my
billowing mounds.  Immediately it found its own way home.  What a smart
little penis.

"This feels so nice, it must be sin," Abdullah concluded, but he was
not about to let that stop him.  He would atone later.  Right now, he
would fuck.

"Inchallah," he intoned like a muezzin calling the faithful to prayer.
"When I die and go to paradise, I want 72 pussies just like this one."
He hunched his little dick into me, crooning eastern prayers with every
shove.  I tightened my muscles around him to make it wonderful.  I raised
and lowered my midsection meeting every thrust, as much as it was
possible, bound to the cot as I was.

It was such a delicious tickle.  I didn't want it to ever end.  "Fuck
me.  Fuck me, Abudullah," my voice broke forth even against my will.
"Don't feel guilty, Abdullah.  This is what paradise feels like."

And then his little balls let loose a torrent which joined the White Nile
already inside me.  Spurt.  Spurt.  Spurt.  Spurt.  Spurt.  Spurt.
Spurt.  Etc.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life;  And
I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."

These tiny delinquents may have polluted my body, but I had been
unwillingly taken, and was completely innocent, and I knew that my soul
would remain pure.  Whatever the situation with my asshole, I was certain
that I would dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  Amen.

"Okay.  It's getting' late, you can get your ass into bed now," said
Lamar, and they began to untie me.  I needed for them to untie me
quickly.  Very quickly.

The White Nile was surging within me, and I knew the banks of my
squeezing sphincter could no longer suppress a tsunami of boycum.  The
minute I was free, I ran like a madman for the bathroom and sat down on
the seat, and then began to loudly expel the many donations I had
received.  I think that this may have been the most embarrassing moment
of the entire night.

The whole experience had been upsetting and puzzling.  I didn't
understand how this could have happened.  I kept thinking, 'how come in
my day, nine-year-olds couldn't not ejaculate, and now they could?'
Was this evolution at work?  Could the theory of evolution really be
correct after all, despite our church's insistence that it was a dirty
lie?

The boys were tired.  They each got into their beds and fell asleep,
while I was still expelling remnants of their DNA from my colon.  Well,
of course, they had fallen asleep.  After the male ejaculates, the male
usually falls asleep.  That was common knowledge.   I had not ejaculated,
and I was not sleepy.  My mind was like a whirlpool.  I was in torment.

I lay down on my own cot, and tossed and turned.  I kept thinking about
all those little dicks going into my ass, fucking me, shooting their hot
loads into me.  I had been raped.  But who would ever believe it?  I
could tell no one about this.  I would be the one to end up in jail.  I
was like a Moslem woman.  When a Moslem woman is raped, she is not
considered the victim.  She is considered unclean.  She can be divorced.
Excommunicated.  Through no fault of her own.  And I was now unclean.
Defiled.  But I would be the one blamed.  I would be the one shunned.

Meanwhile I still kept thinking of all those little dicks going into my
ass, fucking me, shooting their hot loads into me, and my own penis was
getting stiff.  This was ridiculous.  My penis never got stiff.   When
Clara and I had our infrequent relations, it was always with great
difficulty.  I never had a really firm erection.  Until now, thinking of
all those little dicks, going into my ass, fucking me, shooting their hot
loads into me.

It was not a warm night, but my face had broken out into a sweat.  I
needed to get to sleep.  But I couldn't get to sleep.  I was too
exciting to get to sleep.  My penis was too hard to allow me to get to
sleep.

I grabbed hold of my hard-on, which was so hard that it felt strange to
me, and I started to move my hand up and down on my penis, up and down,
and I began to tickle my balls with my other hand, and my face was
sweating like crazy, and my legs were stretched out so tight I was afraid
I would have a muscle spasm in my calves, and I pulled up and I pulled
down and I pulled up and I pulled down, and I had a hard time not
shrieking with pleasure when I felt my own cum bubble up in my balls and
shoot down my rigid tube out onto my belly.  Yes.  Yes.  Yes.  Ten times
Yes.   That was what I had needed.  I let the sticky liquid dry and cake
on my body, and I fell asleep.

The next morning, the `bugle' compact disc played on the loud speaker
and we were all roused from our deep slumber.

We got dressed in our camp uniforms and went into the mess hall for
breakfast.  I said nothing to the boys, and they said nothing to me.
Actually, I couldn't even look at them.  I was mortified and ashamed,
and it seemed as if even they were embarrassed by their bad behavior the
night before.  But they could at least have apologized to me.  Instead,
they simply avoided my gaze.

Nevertheless, for once, they were very well behaved all day long.  No
fights.  No sassing.  Perhaps they realized the gravity of what they had
done and regretted it.  Perhaps they were going to change their
behavior.  Perhaps they were going to reform.  Perhaps the Lord had found
his way into their hard little hearts, and transformed them.  I could
only hope.  I could only continue to pray.

Why were they being so good?  This was so unlike them.  And then I
realized.  They were afraid I was going to tell.  They were afraid they
would get punished and sent back to their shoddy habitats.  Yes.  That
was it.  It was something I could hold over their heads.  I was safe
now.  If I ever told, they would be in deep trouble.  They could even get
sent to reform school.  Yes.  I had gone through hell last night, but it
would not happen again.  I would be safe from now on.  Their destinies
were in my hands.

When they were safely in their beds, I went down to the auditorium to
practice my Bach.  But after several minutes, I gave up on it.  It was
too formal.  Too measured.  I could not play baroque music this evening.
My heart was pounding in my chest for some reason, and I wanted to play
romantic music.  Something wild and passionate.  I settled on a Beethoven
piano sonata.  The Appasionata.  Yes.  That was what I needed to play
this evening.  The Appasionata.

The chords and arpeggios rolled off my fingers, and I played as I have
never played before.  With fervor, with passion.  Yes.  It was passion.
Passion born of the Appasionata,  or perhaps something else?   My heart
kept pounding in my chest.

Finally it was time to go back to the bunk and go to bed.  I stood
outside the screen door for a while, to see what I could hear.  Total
silence.  That was so unusual.  Perhaps they had gotten all the evil out
of their systems last night.  Total silence.  They were sleeping.

I quietly opened the screen door, and quietly let it shut behind me, so
as not to awaken them.  There was a slight squeak, but I was very careful
to keep it to a minimum.  Yes.  They were sleeping.  I could tell by
their even breathing.  All was well.

I stripped down to my under shorts and climbed between my sheets.  My
heart was still pounding a bit, so I was having a little trouble falling
asleep despite not have gotten enough sleep the night before.  But little
by little, my nerves calmed and I began to get drowsy, and I began to
doze, and I began to---------

Oh, God!  A thousand little hands were upon me.  Turning me over onto my
stomach.  No.  No.  I hadn't even heard them coming.  I hadn't even
heard the squeak of a bedspring as they got out of their cots.  No.  No.
This couldn't be happening again.  And then I knew I would have to
really threaten them.

"I'm going to tell.  I'm going to tell.  They'll put you all away."

It was then that Lamar smacked me upside the head, and said.  "Shut up,
bitch.  You ain't tellin' no one.  You think we so stupid, we don't
know that?  We know you ain't tellin' no one.  Like you want everyone
in the world to know we all been up inside your asshole?  Like you want
everyone in the world to know we shot our hot loads into your faggot
behind?  I don't think so, bitch.  Now you just shut your fuckin'
mouth."

They were right.  They knew me too well.  How could I ever reveal what
had happened to me?  The shame.  The disgrace.  Everyone in my church
would turn from me in disgust.  I was a man who had been fucked.  That
was something that none of my brethren could ever forget or forgive.
Therefore they must never find out.  No.  The secret would have to go to
my grave with me.  And the worse irony was that no one would ever believe
that the children had raped me.  I would be the one accused, convicted
and sent to jail where I would be raped by all the other inmates night
after night after night after night.  It was a no-win situation.  At that
moment I emotionally gave up and decided to let the boys have their way
with me.

They didn't tie me down tonight, but nameless boys held my arms away
from my body, and nameless boys spread my legs and climbed upon them,
sitting on them, and then one of the nameless boys climbed onto my back,
I wasn't sure which, and then a nameless little prick slid between my
buttocks and stabbed at the closed eyehole, where it caught as if in a
notch, and then it pierced me.  And yes, it hurt.  But then it didn't.
There was that beautiful itchy feeling.  It was rubbing me up and rubbing
me down, and all inside me.  "Oooohhhh.   Oooooohhhh.   Oooooohhhh.
AAAAAAHHHHHH.   Our father who art in heaven.  Hallowed be thy name."