This story is adult fiction with homoerotic episodes. If you are a minor or are likely to be offended, please read no further. If you are reading further, please consider a donation to nifty.org to help keep this service free and available to all.
Comments and criticisms are encouraged. Please write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com.
While Mark is losing his virginity, Patrick Harwood encounters Blake Osborne near the lake.
"There's the little fairy boy. You out looking for a big dick to suck?" Patrick teases.
"N...no."
"You can't fool me, queer boy." He grabs his crotch for emphasis.
"L...leave me alone!" Blake cries.
"L...leave me alone!" Patrick mimics, then adds, "And just why should I?" He laughs at Blake's discomfort.
"Because I said so!" The voice belongs to another Cherokee, sixteen-year-old Mason Tidwell. Mason is straight and is also a wide receiver on his high school football team in Denton, Texas, where they take football really seriously. He's about twice the size of Patrick.
"Everybody around here a queer lover?" Patrick spits.
"No, motherfucker," Mason responds, "We just learn to respect each other."
Mason twists Patrick's arm behind his back and begins to guide him toward the Cherokee cabin.
"Don't worry about him, kid," he calls back to Blake. "If he gives you any more shit, just let me know."
They find their counsellor, William Stanton, in his room. Mason relates what he overheard, adding that everybody knows that bullying is not allowed at Lookout.
"Harwood, this is the second incident like this you've been involved in today. Winston Evans, the counsellor doing swimming quals, told me what you did at the lake this morning. I was going to talk to you about that later. But this makes the matter more serious.
"Right now, though, you'd better get to where you're supposed to be. And watch your tongue."
Patrick heads back to the lake, where his number he was given still puts him at the back of the line. William heads to the administration building. Counsellors are supposed to warn campers after the first incidence of bullying. A second incident must be reported to Mr. Huff.
Patrick is getting close to the head of the line, when a grunt walks up. "You Harwood?" he asks.
"What if I am?"
"Mr. Huff wants you."
"I'll see him after I'm through here."
"He wants you now, shit-for-brains," the grunt responds, emphasizing his statement by grabbing Patrick's arm.
Patrick doesn't want to be dragged across the compound like he was before, so he goes along.
Chester Huff's office, like everything else in camp, is pretty primitive. A desk, a bookcase, a plastic side chair, which Chester does not invite Patrick to sit down in. Patrick on the other hand, having a good idea why he's been summoned, is in no mood to be contrite. He stands wordless and unrepentant.
Chester waits a seeming eternity before speaking.
"Harwood," he finally begins, "we realize that some new campers may not realize that we mean what we say at indoctrination. But we expect every camper to take to heart everything that Mr. Partridge said Sunday night. And that means that we don't tolerate teasing or bullying campers that are 'different.' They have the right to enjoy camp as best they can.
"Now you have twice been seen tormenting a younger boy who is not athletically gifted, but who does try, and who does deserve our praise, not our condemnation."
"And he's also a fucking faggot," Patrick interjects. "I can spot `em a mile away."
"I will ignore your characterization," Chester counters. "And yes, boys who are gay are also not to be harassed. It isn't their fault that they are different."
"I can't believe that you guys take up for queers!"
"Whether you like our policies or not, Harwood, I am telling you right now that if there is another incident like either of those earlier today, you will be sent back home." Chester's voice could not be sterner.
"Just try to send me home and my dad will have your ass," Patrick spits.
"The contract your father signed stipulates that at our sole discretion anytime we feel that you are not compatible with our program, we may send you home and refund the cost of the remaining weeks of your session. That means that, yes we can send you home and your father has no recourse. I presume that he read the contract before he signed it.
"Now go back to what you were doing. And I hope you've listened this time."
Fortunately Patrick resists the impulse to tell the manager to go fuck himself.
"Free swim" is in progress when Patrick returns to the lake. Winston is the lifeguard on duty, and he does agree to test Patrick. Patrick has expected to be able to go beyond the main swimming area, but he barely qualifies for the main section. Forty seconds is a longer time than he thought.
He tells himself that the reason he didn't achieve the higher qualification was that this candy-assed outfit had pissed him off.
At lights-out the Seminoles' Junior Counsellor seeks out Noah Prescott, the boy that had said he was going home. "You're still here," he feigns surprise.
"Yeah, you were right. I qualified to swim in the main area. I got to shoot a bow and arrow and I actually hit the target. And I got to know Thomas. He's a real neat guy."
In the house on the hill, Chester deposits an ample load down the throat of his mentor. Malcolm continues to lick, making sure that he tastes every drop of Chester's cream.
"Oooouh," Chester groans.
"Hard day, eh?" Malcolm queries.
"No harder than first days usually are. I'm just getting old like you.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to send a boy down, though."
"Oh? We haven't had to do that for what? Four years?"
"Yeah, but this kid was caught twice picking on a gay boy. When I read him the riot act, he didn't seem to get the message. Name's Harwood."
"Oh yes. I remember the application. His father's the Junior Senator from Missouri. Kid's been to about a dozen camps. I almost didn't take him."
In the Choctaw cabin, Eric again visits Winston and Roger. "Popped me a cherry today. One of our boys," he tells them.
"Oh?" Roger responds.
"Little Mark Tidwell. He's fucking ripe. You two ought to invite him to visit."
"We don't mess around with fourteen-year-olds," Winston says. "Too risky."
"I got with him last night," Eric continues. "He begged me to fuck him. I led him out to the woods today.
"Don't tire him out so he can't do his thing tomorrow. We'll be on full schedule."
"You shoulda reminded the others before lights out. There was a lot of shit going on when I came in here."
Copyright 2015 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.