Mackey Tales: The Lost Tribes of the West – Simon A. Mackey 21
This story is about sex between boys. It's a total fantasy. You've made it to Nifty/gay/young-friends, so you'd know by now and I won't repeat the usual warning yadayadayada.
What I do repeat, however: Please support Nifty because this is a wonderful, free archive and a treasure box.
The stories make you feel good, but a contribution to Nifty will make you feel even better:
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This is my follow-up on the tales of the Mackey clan as created by Jonas Henley and extended by Charles Well, Nick ea. Please have a look at the introduction for reference.
Thanks to all readers who sent me their appreciation and suggestions.
Special thanks to RNP for reviewing my story, and to Andrew Passey for letting me build on his characters and ideas from his `Village'-series (https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/the-village/). I think you can follow my story without reading `The Village' first, but as it is a good story, I can recommend reading it.
Enjoy
Nils
The Scouts White Party Camp – part 3
"We're almost there, lads," scoutmaster Julian Kerr said. The boys in the luxury liner looked lazily at the slowly changing landscape. An hour ago, they had left their hotel at St Louis Airport where they had arrived yesterday, flying in from Atlanta after their 6-day hike on the Appalachian Trail. The stay in the hotel had been great. Everything was so much bigger than they were used to back in England. Huge rooms, beds twice as big as they had at home, bathrooms of a size and luxury they expected at Buckingham Palace. After a week of hiking, sleeping in cabins, sometimes even in open cabins barely enough to keep them dry when it rained, this was paradise, and they enjoyed this luxury to no extent.
But now the boys from the Bradley Boys Scout Troop are on their way to another big unknown: the Mackey Scout troop. It would be full, camping out with U.S. boy scouts. A new adventure in a foreign land, and the boys already had their fantasies about the Cowboy and Indian type of culture they had seen in the movies and on TV. This whole trip was a spectacular experience, and they were looking forward to the next chapter, even though they wouldn't have protested if they'd stayed a little longer at this splendid hotel.
Their scoutmaster Julian had told them about the similarities in their scouts' activities, but also about the similarities in their specific Bradley traditions, which had astonished them at first. None of the boys had realized that there could be other places in the world where they had this same, weird tradition to keep girls from getting pregnant. They were told about this before they embarked on this journey, but the prospect of going to America was overruling any possible worry about what that get-together would mean for their traditions. But now, with only a few miles to go, the boys were getting a bit more anxious.
"What about the rules we have?" 15-year-old Ray Lavery asked a little concerned, "I mean, we're used to helping each other out with blowjobs and anal sex, but will our rules apply to them as well?"
"We will set out the rules when we arrive, but for now, our rules will remain the same until officially changed."
"My dad said that these American boys don't have this rule of reciprocity," Howard Miller stated, looking sideways at his friend Hugh Bradley. He had talks with his dad and granddad before this camp. His grandpa William had served during the Second World War with Mr. Thomas Mackey, and they still maintained contact. It basically was their idea to meet when the scouts from Bradley were in the U.S. this summer.
"That's right, they don't. But they don't have the rule that every boy can have sex with every other boy either, so there is a different type of balance. As I said, we'll get to the rules once we arrive there, but it's good to know that our rules and theirs will be changed a little during this camp."
"I hope that at least our rule on Formal Relations will be kept. That'll save us from a lot of dick sucking," Hugh said to Howard, who nodded a little concerned at the thought that they might lose that privilege. He quietly stared at his hands, pondering about the process they had followed to be officially in relationship, which made them exempt from the obligation to engage in the town's rules for cock sucking. Hugh looked admiringly at his blond haired friend and looked almost drooling at his bright grayish-blue eyes. It was embarrassing, everyone knowing that you are officially labeled as `boyfriends' and having to perform cock-sucking in front of witnesses, but it was worth it. They now were together, enjoying the intimacy of their friendship without having to suck every Tom, Dick and Harry in town. Even during the hike, they had their privilege, which was a good thing now that 15-year-old arsehole Winston was on this trip.
God he hated that boy. Even in Primary school he was the bully, and once he turned 13, he made it his ultimate goal to have every boy suck his dick, even when he could barely cum anymore after the second or third blowjob, and he had a way of threatening most boys to stay clear from even thinking about asking back. And after he turned 14 and was allowed to fuck, it even worsened. More so, he often managed to scare the older boys away too, even after he'd fucked them. With the scoutmaster nearby, he couldn't cross any lines, but the poor Edward, Ralph and Desmond had to endure his treatment of their behind several times during the hike.
The last miles through the woods had been a bumpy ride, and the boys were more than happy to leave the bus. After the boys had stretched their legs and the scout leaders of both troops had introduced themselves, they unloaded the bus, the Mackey boys lending a hand to the tired English boys. Once the entire luggage was hauled off the bus, they assembled at the campfire place.
A little awkwardly, the scouts lined up in a circle near the flagpole, where the scoutmaster kindly welcomed the newcomers and introduced the British scoutmaster and the assistants to the Mackey scouts.
Completely in style, the two troops were ready to do the ritual of raising the flag. The scoutmasters smiled happily at each other: it was a nice sight, all those boys neatly dressed in their scout uniforms, their bare knees between the edge of their shorts and the pulled-up knee socks, which the British scouts had neatly provided with the old-fashioned flares. Most Mackey scouts still had their campaign hats on like the British boys, although a few had the most modern caps, earning some jealous looks from the English scouts.
Once the Union Jack waved proudly next to the Stars and Stripes, the scoutmaster made a little show of opening the combined scout camp, making several boys groan and roll their eyes.
"The scouts from the Bradley Troop will be here today and for the next three days," the scoutmaster explained, "and they will leave the day before we break up," and then went on with explaining the plans for the day and the basic rules. He turned and pointed at the direction of the Mackey tent, and continued,
"We will start with setting up an extra tent, or better two tents joined together, for our guests to sleep in. Then we have lunch and after lunch, we'll have the whole afternoon for games."
He stepped back and the British scoutmaster Julian continued, "We will have several games this afternoon. There will be some competition, but also individual skill testing and some games just for fun. We will mix the troops for the competitions, because there are 36 U.S. scouts and only 17 U.K. scouts, and that won't be a fair match."
"One last important thing," the scoutmaster added, "as you all know, both the Mackey boys as the Bradley boys have a special tradition in common, all set in rules and edicts. Simon Mackey's granddad," and he pointed at Simon, and then at Howard and Hugh, "and Howard Miller and Hugh Bradley's granddads made the trip to the U.S. possible, as well as this little jamboree. We all know about the peculiarities of our rules, so, for now, each troop will abide by their own rules, until we introduce some adjustments tonight."
"Now, let's get our guests settle, and help them with the tents. Oh, and don't forget to change from your uniforms first to keep them clean for the trips outside the camp grounds," the scoutmaster addressed the Mackey scouts, "and while you're busy, we'll prepare a nice lunch."
The boys moved to the place where they would help to set up the tent asNick walked side by side with Jerry and whispered to him,
"I think these English scouts are bad news for us. I bet that the scoutmaster will allow them to use us Blue boys as well."
"You could be right, and then we have even more boys up our asses. Damn!" Jerry replied.
"I whish I knew a way to prevent that from happening," Nick said pensively, but he didn't have a clue how.
"What if we do some sabotage?" Jerry suggested, and continued whispering, "what if we simulate a small injury? Like something that isn't too bad, but enough to keep us from being fucked all the time?"
"But what kind of injury? The scout leaders will certainly notice that it's fake."
"We need to have something real, but not too serious. Something like diarrhea. If we have the shits, no boy will want to fuck us."
"Yeah, that might work," Nick said, but then realized, "but that means that we need to eat something that makes us have the shits, and we might end up sick. I don't want to be fucked, but I don't want to be sick and miss camp either."
"Hmm, you're right. Maybe something else might scare them away from our asses."
"I have an idea!" Nick almost shouted and quickly lowered his voice, "what if we have a rash on our butts? I bet boys don't like to fuck a red, puckered ass!"
"But how do we get a rash?"
"We could brush our butt against the poison ivy at the south side of the building, behind the showers. I've been bent over there yesterday, so anyone would believe the story that it happened after a fuck."
"I've had poison ivy rash before, and it itched like hell," Jerry murmured, "I don't know, I don't like the thought of having an itchy butt that much."
"It's your choice: an itchy butt or a fucked butt," Nick countered and he turned to walk towards the main building, to put words into action.
The boys spent the afternoon playing games and the scout leaders did a good job mixing the troops, and rearranging the teams for every game, to get the boy acquainted to each other. When they just finished playing the fourth game, 13-year-old Jonathan Mackey and 14-year-old Mike took a break and sat together, recuperating from the frantic competitions.
"Did you notice they keep scores of every game so far?" Jonathan said, nodding in the direction of the scoutmasters and their assistants of both troops, who were apparently comparing their notes.
"Yeah, they said there will be something to win," Mike replied.
"I know, they said so at the start, but it's the way they compare scores, look," and he pointed at the leaders, "it's like they rearrange teams."
"Looks like it," Mike confirmed, "but why?"
"This last game and the game before, they consistently put the loudmouths like Leroy and that English boy Winston over there in opposing teams," he remarked, pointing at the red-haired English boy who was clearly showing off to the other boys, "that's why they're getting so frantic."
"Why are they doing this? I mean, games are about winning or losing anyway."
Jonathan looked pensively at the leaders and stroked through his shaggy brown hair, and suddenly he had a gut feeling.
"I don't trust these manipulations at all."
"You think they're secretly changing the score to let some boys win?" Mike asked, "that would be so unfair; anyway, I think they wouldn't dare, everyone would notice that."
"No, I don't think they rig the score, but I think they sort of manipulate the competitions so that not only the older and stronger boys win, but younger and smaller boys as well," Jonathan said pensively. "I guess it might have something to do with the selection of Blue boys, don't you think?"
"Christ! You could be right. They said tonight there will be a new selection of Blues and Whites, and that could be by the random card selection again or some other game!"
"That's what I'm thinking too. Remember the emphasis about Winners and Losers? I don't know what direction this will go, but I think from now on, I'll play the game just well enough not to lose, but not good enough to win either."
***
Now that school's out, Hugo had lots of time to kill. Hanging out at the Arcade was fun, but that was only for a couple of hours, and the games did cost him his pocket money; Mr. Fergusson offered broke boys some coins occasionally, but not always, and just looking at others playing their games was nice for only so long.
The good thing about the Arcade was that he could meet several of the 12-year-olds who now were getting more and more nervous about the upcoming Choosing. Curious as they were, they tried to squeeze every bit of information from him: especially Jordan Mackey who took the lead in trying to lure him into his little traps. For him, that was okay as he thought Jordan could be instrumental for his plans to sabotage the Choosing, so he let him ask, feeding him with some non-relevant information, leaving out anything about the Community Bottom system and his own position.
Jordan thought Hugo was acting a bit strange. He was nice to him and his friends, but there was something strange about his behavior. He was always willing to talk about the Choosing, but never really saying something that mattered. He was clearly holding something back. The only thing he made clear was that the 12-year-olds should be aware that something nasty could happen and that it might be a good idea not to just accept letting it happen without any protest. But protest against what? All he understood from the rumors was that there would be some kind of games, maybe there was some kind of humiliation inflicted by the older boys, on the dirty side. But he didn't care too much about that. No one has ever been killed by these games; at least that is what he'd been told. Why was Hugo so persistent in getting him and his friends objecting to this Choosing?
Hugo's latest plan did sound attractive, however. Since nobody would tell them what this Choosing would entail, maybe the idea of stealing the plans for the Choosing Day wasn't that bad. So, out of curiosity, he agreed to help trying to steal the plans for the Day, just to know what might happen.
Hugo did his best to find out if there were boys who did not want to participate in the Choosing, but since no boy knew exactly what was going to happen , there was no appetite on their part to skip the Choosing.
Hugo knew then that his revolution would just be a one-man army. He was frustrated and getting angrier by the minute. With no distraction from school, he had too much time to think about his situation, and felt increasingly sorry for himself. He remembered what Simon had said about his ideas for revenge later, but the constant nagging of boys who now had plenty of time to come and have a fuck, fogged his mind and raised his anger and frustration to a new level.
He thought about warning the boys on the line for what the Choosing was all about and get it into the open. But he knew that then everybody would know that he was the one that spilled the Mackey secret, and that would have serious consequences for him and his family: the Council and the Mackey Board would destroy them if he disclosed the secret. He was only 13, too young to care for himself yet, and had nowhere to go if he needed to run away. So he didn't dare to tell boys about the choosing of Bottoms directly, but he felt the need to warn the new victims. Maybe there was a way do this anonymously.
When Jordan arrived at Hugo's to discuss the plan for getting their hands on the plans for the Choosing, he saw him through the small window sitting behind an old Remington at a desk in the room, apparently typing a letter. When Hugo heard him drop his bike on the ground, Jordan saw him quickly take the paper from the typewriter and shove it below some other papers: that looked a bit suspicious to him.
They talked about the Choosing, and Hugo did his best at scaring Jordan. After his third attempt to convince him to quit the Choosing, and make his friends do the same, Jordan had enough. He didn't want to be involved in stopping this Choosing, and he left, annoyed.
This was getting weird, he thought, why would Hugo bother anyway? He went through the Choosing already, so it wasn't his problem in the first place. He slowly biked away, and just before he turned around the corner at the end of the street, he saw Hugo leaving on his bike, heading south, towards the Arcade.
With nothing else to do and his mind full with thoughts about the Choosing and the weird conversation they had earlier, he decided to go to the Arcade as well, hang out with some friends.
There were several boys in the Arcade, standing around the machines, chatting, playing games, and soon Jordan teamed up with a couple of his classmates. Almost at the same time, Jason Weiberg entered, hung his jacket on the coat rack, and joined the other 12-year-olds. >From the corner of his eyes Jordan saw Hugo strolling around, not really talking to anyone in particular or trying to play a game. When one of Jordan's friends grabbed his attention to play a game, he missed how Hugo secretly folded a piece of paper and put it in a pocket of Jason's jacket.
With his thoughts more at the Choosing and Hugo's remarks than the games in the Arcade, Jordan got bored with hanging around, and when he saw Hugo leave, he quickly followed him outside. He watched Hugo biking away and still consumed with curiosity he followed him at a safe distance.
He was surprised when Hugo went all the way to the Mackey Woods, where he turned left onto the dirt road towards the Mackey Tavern. There were not many people in this area this time of the day, and he continued following him and saw Hugo hiding his bike in the bushes, and then walking up to the bleachers behind the Tavern.
Again from a safe distance, he watched Hugo secretly checking the deserted place, looking below the benches, making notes, and putting the paper in a small bag.
This was a bit scary, but also exciting. Scary because he knew Hugo wanted to do something that might be disruptive or even dangerous to the Choosing, and exciting because he felt like an Indian scout from the movies, spying on the enemy, trying to find out about the plans without being discovered, just thrilling boys' play.
Now completely absorbed by the adventure, Jordan followed Hugo back to his home, where our schemer left his bike at the foot of the porch.
"Is that you, Hugo?" his mom shouted from the backyard, "come here, I need your help."
Hugo who wasn't expecting that quickly threw the bag with the notes he was holding in his hand under the stairs to the veranda and walked to the backyard to see what his mother wanted.
Jordan immediately noticed where Hugo dropped his little bag, obviously not wanting his mom to see it, and when Hugo was out of sight, he sneaked into the yard, and ducked under the stairs and quickly looked into the bag.
His heart skipped a beat: these looked like plans for disrupting the Choosing, even destroying the place. There were also notes about houses, with names like `Master of Ceremony' and `Council member'. And he noticed a flyer for gun shooting lessons.
Shit! Shit! This was not good. In complete panic mode, he didn't even finish inspecting the content of the bag, but threw it back under the stairs and fled as fast as his feet could carry him. Then, jumping on his bike within seconds, he disappeared behind the corner.
Completely out of breath, he drove past Tom's house: he lived not very far from Hugo.
Tom! I must tell Tom, he'll know what to do!
Tom was surprised when Jordan stumbled into the house and still gasping for air told incoherently what he had seen. Tom didn't know what to think of it. But he knew Hugo was not happy and might end up doing things that were not good.
Taking hold of himself, he told Jordan not to worry: maybe Hugo was just playing a game.
Tom was really confused. He knew about Hugo's discomfort, but he also knew that Simon had spoken with Hugo several times, and was helping him to relax a little, accepting his role as Community Bottom. He finally decided to go over to Hugo to have a talk with him before he quickly made Jordan leave. In the meantime, not completely relieved, but glad that he had shared this with Tom, Jordan went home, leaving things to Tom, promising him that he wouldn't tell anyone else.
Upon arriving at Hugo's, Tom saw Hugo's bike still lying there, he then peaked under the veranda and found the bag, just as Jordan had mentioned. He looked at it superficially and to his astonishment, he saw that Hugo apparently had some plans. Jordan was right. It looked like he was planning to set the Choosing place on fire.
Tom had some hesitations. Should he talk with Hugo without knowing the details? Not right away, he needed to first have a look at this stuff, so he quickly took the bag with him, hoping that nobody saw him stealing it.
Back home, he went carefully through the notes. There was a map indicating several places, a route, a list of supplies needed to start a fire. It was clear that Hugo planned to set fire to the Mackey Tavern and to the bleachers where the Choosing was going to be held. And also a plan to set fire to several houses of Council members, even Thomas Alan's house, showing where to place the cans with kerosene in preparation, also distances, travel times between the points; in short, a well worked out plan to raise hell in Mackey land. He also found three unfolded pieces of paper that Jordan had not mentioned and read them. What he uncovered made his stomach turn.
This is a warning. The Choosing is not just games and play. They are choosing boy whores to fuck. The boys on the line are the candidates. Ask older boys, your dad. If they spill the beans, you know it is true, but if they keep it a secret, you will understand right away that something bad is going to happen. Your only safe option: refuse being forced to go to the Choosing!
Tom began trembling. He then read the other two papers. They had the same message, all typed on a Remington and unsigned. What should he do? He wished Simon were here; they could discuss this whole situation and come up with a plan. But Simon was at his scout camp, as was Dustin.
He was hesitant. Should he inform his dad? Maybe he should leave this to adults, but will that do good for Hugo?
He lay back on his bed to think, but his head felt as if it was boiling and he couldn't come up with a sound plan.
He got up and looked at his watch. It is just about an hour before dinner. Maybe he should call Simon at camp, to hear his view.
He called Simon's dad to see if he could get the number of the campsite. When he got a number and tried to get Simon on the phone, he only reached an assistant scoutmaster to hear that the boys were on a hike, so maybe he should try again later.
***
After a quite intense afternoon, the leaders had arranged for catering, so the boys didn't have to cook dinner themselves. Campfire would start early this time, and the food would be served during the campfire. As the big sponsor, Thomas Alan had asked the local Mackey bar to prepare abundant food and drink to spoil the Mackey boys and their guests.
With nearly an hour before the campfire would start, the boys had some time to kill. The two troops were still a bit uneasy, even though they had played the games with the troops mixed this afternoon. Previous days, the Mackey boys used their free time for resting, working on their merit badges, or having fun with a Blue boy. Now, with the strangers in their midst, they felt a bit restrained. They knew these English boys had a tradition not unlike theirs, but still, it was different and somewhat awkward. It was as if the Blue boys were aware of the reticence of the Whites, and as driven by instinct they teamed up with the Bradley boys in their tent, as their presence might hold the Whites back from a quick fuck or a blowjob.
At least that was what they hoped for. But the presence of the newly arrived scouts didn't restrain Dustin and Leroy, and before long Dustin, already dressed down to only his white briefs walked over to the Bradley Troop tent, looking for Carter Mackey. Leroy quickly got up and followed Dustin into the tent, stroking his dick in anticipation.
"Ah, there you are!" Dustin said to Carter Mackey with a playful smirk on his face, "evading your service duties, hey?" he joked.
With a deep sigh Carter raised, ready to follow Dustin, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as Dustin and Carter had left the tent, Leroy gestured at David, who showed a bit more reluctance, clearly signaling that at this moment he wasn't really in the mood for being plugged, and certainly not by Leroy, and he made no move to follow Leroy.
Being the uncouth bully, Leroy just shrugged his shoulders,
"Okay, if you don't want to come with me, we'll do it here. I don't care. Let's show these Limeys some good fun," he said at a menacing tone, looking challenging around at the astonished boys in the tent, "I see you're already dressed for the occasion," he added, pointing at David wearing only his blue briefs.
"No, no, it's okay, I'll come with you," David hastily said to avoid the humiliation to be publicly fucked in front of all these foreign boys and jumped up, ready to follow Leroy to the Mackey tent. Being fucked in public was not uncommon and in his short career as Blue he started to get used to boys watching while he was on all fours, accepting a dick in his ass, but this was a bit too much.
"Good heavens, was he really going to do that, here in public?" Howard Miller asked when Leroy had left the tent, with David following him submissively.
"Most likely, yes," Simon answered a little embarrassed. "Leroy is a bit of a jerk, so he might do it, but no one else would," he tried to save the Mackey reputation.
"But is it even allowed to shag someone in public? Our edicts do not allow that, even as a serious punishment."
"Well, it is allowed, but it's not so much a custom, at least not everywhere. You know, in the northern part of the Mackey Territory it happens, but not all the time, whereas in the southern part it is more common."
"If it's allowed, I'll have a look," Winston Fenslow, the 15-year-old Bradley Scout said with a mean tone as he got up.
Cedric Roberts raised his eyebrows, surprised by this blunt action, and as soon as Winston had left the tent, the 17-year-old English boys said,
"That's typically Winston. He is maybe the best scout as it comes to merit badges, skills like hiking and reading maps and all, but he's a bully of sorts, always want to show off and be the winner, especially when someone is new, and if he can humiliate someone, he would never let that opportunity pass."
"I guess that's sort of universal," Simon said pensively, "Leroy is the same with us. Always trying to be the top dog, never caring about others' feelings too much."
He thought back at that dreaded January day when the age limit for him was raised and Leroy and Henri DeChantier had visited him. He shivered. If his own experience with Leroy was anything to go by, David was in for a bad treat, but he is 17, so he physically should be able to handle this fuck. However, being 17 and having a 15-year-old horny bully mounting you while other boys were watching, must definitely hurt his feelings. David was the oldest scout and for the younger boys a role model; he was always nice, willing to help others, and like Dustin always looking for some fun. He definitely didn't deserve to be treated like a second-tier whore.
"Is it true that you guys start with this when you're 12?" Ralph Roberts, Cedric's younger brother asked, turning over to Nick who was dressed in just a t-shirt and his blue briefs. Nick nodded.
"Yeah, most of us go to a Choosing when we are 12. Some do when they are 13, but that often turns out to be a mistake."
"How so?"
"Well, I don't know, it just is," Nick said trying to think of a reason. It was just a fact of life, something boys were warned about, but a reason, he had no clue.
"It has something to do with our age restriction, I think," Simon said, "during the first half-a-year period, only boys a year older than you are allowed to fuck you. When you're 12, the rule only applies to boys 13 and under. But when you are chosen as a Bottom at 13, everybody up to 14 can have a go."
"What's a `Choosing'?" Graham Clive asked. The scoutmaster had told them a few basic things, but not in much detail. They knew that, unlike in their tradition, not every boy had to bottom for other boys, but how that worked was unclear. The scoutmaster had said that it was something they could learn from the Mackey boys themselves.
Nick explained all about the Choosing, the parading, the feeling and touching, the voting and finally the initiation. The British boys sat agape. This indeed was something different. They simply received a letter from the Master of The Village Circle at their thirteenth birthday and could read that in private, with their dad, or sometimes with an older brother or a close friend who would then support them at receiving the bad news. But a peageant, boys on display, naked and exposed to a large boy audience? And once chosen, publicly sucking a random boy and being fucked on stage? Having to serve the community for 3 long years? No reciprocity? Wow.
Simon cringed when Nick told the boys that he was chosen last year as one of the regular Community Bottoms. He tried not to look at the British boys who stared at him, but he couldn't prevent noticing that they had a look of pity and bewilderment in their eyes when they glanced over at him.
In the other tent, Leroy sniggered when the English boy came in, asking if it was okay if he watched the scene. He loved fucking an older boy, especially when there was someone watching, adding to the humiliation. And he sensed that Winston enjoyed watching a degrading fuck as well. He had noticed during the games that he and Winston had the same attitude, both winners, the alpha males in their troops. Now he could show him how a Mackey could show who's boss, even with a boy two years older.
David sighed when he saw Winston sitting down on a mattress next to them. There were a few Mackey boys resting on their sleeping bags, and they didn't pay much attention to him getting fucked, but they raised their heads when they saw the stranger coming in.
"Hi, you came to watch?" Leroy asked, putting his hand out, "I'm Leroy Mackey."
Winston shook the outstretched hand, "pleased to meet you, I'm Winston Fenslow. Indeed, I want to watch, if that's fine with you."
He looked around at the handful of Mackey boys resting on their sleeping bags and saw Dustin enjoying Carter's mouth on his dick.
"Sure." He turned to David and instructed, obviously trying to impress Winston,
"You can coat your crack and my dick, and get on your hands and knees."
David shivered at this degrading order, but knowing that he had to obey the red-haired 15-year-old, he grabbed the Vaseline and with a glob of the goo on his right hand he reached out with his left hand to pull down Leroy's briefs and he coated the warm, stiff rod carefully.
"Don't stroke it too hard," Leroy warned him, laughing sarcastically, "or I'll shoot all over you! And also, if you make me cum, my fucking you will last much longer!" He looked triumphantly at Winston to make his point.
Winston grinned, a bit surprised by this public humiliation, but if that's the Mackey way, he won't object.
When Leroy shoved his dick in one move into David's tender anal canal, forcing his sphincter open in one push, David let out a cry in pain and instinctively moved away. But Leroy grabbed him quickly by his hips, halting him, and stayed deep in him for a couple of seconds and then began pounding him vigorously.
David bit his lips, moaning softly at the rough intrusion of his most private part, but he didn't protest, knowing that unfortunately this was his position now and had no choice but to accept it. He just hoped that it would soon be over and he started to contract his sphincter every time Leroy moved out, in the hope to speed up his climax and get it over with.
Winston looked in awe at the scene. He'd watched a fuck only once before, even though it wasn't allowed, but this was something else. These Americans do have different ways, and he liked it! Fucking a 17-year-old with other scouts nearby, watching or not, allowing a visitor to be a spectator, wow! He stroked his cock through his pants while he intensely watched Leroy's dick moving in and out the boy's ass, his balls slapping against the white butt cheeks. He turned his head when he heard a soft groaning from the other side of the tent and noticed how Dustin carefully pushed his dick into Carter Mackey's cleft and tenderly stroked the boy's back, waiting a moment before he carefully pushed a little further.
After the degrading fuck, David rested on his front on his sleeping bag, his head on his arms, eyes closed to avoid looking at the other Mackey scouts who witnessed it all.
"Here," Tobias Schneider said softly to David and handed him some tissues, "you might need them to clean up a bit."
"Thanks," David whispered. He felt the warm wetness of Leroy's cum seeping from his violated pucker, slowly cooling off on the way to his balls.
"You okay?" Tobias asked empathetically.
"Yeah, I'll manage. It was no fun, but I'll survive. And payback will come for Leroy eventually."
"He's a jerk. If he can bully someone, he won't hesitate a moment. But why? I mean, look at Dustin, he can make a fuck fun for both, almost everyone can but Leroy. What an asshole."
David just sighed and peeked to his left where he saw Dustin spooning with Carter Mackey, his naked hips slowly making the distinctive fucking moves, his arms meanwhile tenderly stroking Carter's naked side. Tobias is right. Once you get over the first resistance, a fuck isn't that bad, and with the right guy it's sometimes even nice. But types like Leroy will never learn. But David will remember this humiliating bad fuck, and sooner or later he will find Leroy in a dependent position, and that will be his moment of revenge. What goes around, comes around.
Shortly before the campfire started, the scoutmaster gestured David to come over to the staff room.
"David, we have something to discuss with you," he began, "it's about becoming an Eagle Scout.
David looked up in wonder.
"We promised that your assignment `community service' can be fulfilled being a Blue boy during camp, serving the community as a Bottom. For the next couple of days we have the English boys here, so we're going to change the selection a bit. Tonight we are going to make a new selection for Whites and Blues with the English boys included. The idea is that all current Blue boys will be dismissed. But it is not sure that you will be Blue in the new selection. And in that case, you cannot fulfill the 6-day requirement. So we want to give you a choice: you join the new selection but if you're not selected Blue, this community service will need to be fulfilled later. Alternatively, you can choose to remain Blue. What do you prefer?"
David looked pensively. What if I quit now? Chances are that all these youngsters and assholes like Leroy fucking me will be over, and I can enjoy my last scout camp without this humiliation. On the other hand, a couple of weeks working on the community service might be more of a hassle than I bargain for, and being fucked and giving these blowjobs, well it wasn't that bad. It's only for the remaining 4 days.
"I think I'll remain Blue," David replied after a minute of thinking.
"Okay then, we will announce your choice at the start of the selection: I think the scouts will be grateful that you saved one of them from becoming Blue," the scoutmaster grinned, tapping David in a friendly manner on the shoulder.
David followed him to the campfire pit where the scouts had gathered round the recently lit fire.
The boys were grabbing their food, singing songs while John was playing his guitar, happily chattering, talking about how life was different in their countries. After the boys had finished their first entry, Dennis Lear, one of the U.K. assistant scoutmasters asked the boys for attention.
"This afternoon, we've played several games for fun, and as you noticed, we've mixed the teams several times to get you boys acquainted, but also to get some competition, not just the U.K. against the U.S."
"While you played the games, you may have noticed that we took all scores, both from the teams and from you individually. Based on these scores, we ranked you for each game with 1 point for the loser, 3 for the winner, and 2 for the rest. There were 3 games in a team competition where everyone from that team gets the same points and we had 3 individual tests, so the best could win a maximum of 18 points where the absolute loser could have as few as 6 points. I'll read the 10 highest and the five lowest scores only, and I'll hang the list near the table with food and drinks where everyone interested can have a look at their score when you grab some food."
Excitedly, the boys laughed and shouted, speculating who would be the best of them. When the scoutmaster had named the five losing boys, there was some jeering and laughing, with Winston and Leroy making some goading remarks. The poor boys hung their heads, shamefully, not happy with the laughter and the banter.
When the scoutmaster had announced the winners, the happy boys beamed with pride, not the least Leroy and Winston who both had the highest score.
After the excitement calmed down, the boys settled again round the fire, picking up food and drinks, and John took his guitar again to play music while some of the boys joined him singing songs scouts from both worlds knew, and others just chatted, comparing their lives and the weird tradition they shared.
Winston and Leroy, both fired up being the ultimate winners of the games, sat together boasting about their victory, chatting with some other boys, talking about the rules. Leroy loved it when Winston had been impressed by the session with David, earlier this afternoon and could not get enough talking about it.
"It's unbelievable that you allowed Winston to watch. We have our Edicts," Glenn Gilbey, one of the U.K. boys who clearly did his best to follow Winston's lead but didn't come close, "and Edict 7 explicitly forbids us to do it in public. Penetration of boys should be done in private with no audience or onlookers, even as mild or strong punishment."
"You can be punished for watching a boy getting fucked?" Leroy asked in disbelief.
"Indeed, getting fucked or getting or giving a blowjob."
"And what are these punishments?"
"A mild punishment means that you are available for all boys aged 13 to 16 to use for penetration for one month.
If the punished boy is 13, then this must be orally, if 14 or older, this can be either oral or anal.
A Strong Punishment means that you are available for all boys aged 13 to 16 for a period of 1 year, and as a minimum all boys must penetrate the punished boy at least once orally, and if you are 14 or older, at least once by every boy between 13 and 16 anally during this time."
"Jeez, so the whole village has to fuck a boy who got a strong punishment? And he has to give the whole village a blowjob as well? Just for watching someone get plugged?"
Winston nodded, contented that this stupid rule stupefied these American boys, and he boasted about how every boy in the village was available, unlike the Mackey, and how he was known as one the most frequent users, conveniently leaving out that reciprocity was one of their rules as well.
"And every boy between 13 and 16 has to comply with these rules?"
"Every boy, indeed, from his 13th birthday on. There is one exception though," Winston said with a mean look at Howard and Hugh, "we have this stupid Edict 8 about formal relationships. When you are in a formal relationship, you are exempt of your obligation to others. You only have one boy to play with."
"That sounds like a nice escape."
"No, it isn't that easy," Cedric joined the discussion. "They made some rules to prevent boys from entering a formal relationship in name only in order to try to circumvent the edicts, and if you do, there are strong and even severe punishments and you definitely don't want a severe punishment."
"But how do they supervise this rule, I mean, you can declare it and then you're settled."
"It's not that simple," Cedric explained, "the process is humiliating to put it mildly, and the consequences are serious. To have this special relationship confirmed by the Village Circle, oral and anal intercourse must each be witnessed on three separate occasions by members of the Village Circle including at least once by the Master of The Village Circle. Maybe you are used to having some watching you fuck or being fucked, but we aren't, and it is very awkward. And maybe even worse: everyone in the village will know that you entered this exclusive relationship at your own free will."
"Yeah," Winston said meanly, "everyone will know that you're a couple of poofters. Like these two," and he pointed at Howard Miller and Hugh Bradley sitting together, shoulder to shoulder happily singing along with Simon, David and Dustin and a couple of English boys, enjoying the leisurely atmosphere, the warm flames, and the snacks, of course.
Elliot raised his eyebrows: "Poofters?"
"Fags," explained Leroy to him, who obviously enjoyed using the demeaning expression.
Unaware of the derogative words, the other boys around the campfire sang along with the guitar humming familiar tunes, and before they realized it, an hour had gone by.
"May I have your attention, please," the scoutmaster began while he rose from the log he was sitting on, "tonight it is a special night and we have something special for you."
The other leaders from both troops stood up as well and joined him, standing before the boys, and he continued:
"As you all know, the Mackey and the Bradley boys share the same type of tradition, both based on preventing something nasty happening to our beloved little girls."
Several boys sniggered at this. They knew exactly what he meant, and it felt strange but also exciting knowing that these boys from another country played with each other like they did, maybe with somewhat different rules, but with almost the same result.
"Our English guests know that we have a White party this camp, and they agreed with joining." He waited a moment, and some boys laughed and clapped their hands.
The scoutmaster turned to the side where the most Bradley scouts sat, and said, "a White Party is our Mackey tradition here, shared with our Indian Spring cousins. To make sure you all understand the rules of the White party, I'll explain them to you. As you sit here, most still with your own troop, we will have a little game tonight, after which there will no longer be two troops, but one mixed, only with two flavors."
The English boys listened silently, not quite understanding where this was heading, but several Mackey boys understood instantly and grinned.
"As you might have noticed, there are boys wearing white briefs and boys wearing blue ones." A few boys from the Bradley troop nodded. They had learned about that feature this afternoon, when several Mackey boys in their blue briefs sought refuge in their tent. And words about what Winston had witnessed had spread like wildfire.
"Just like you have your rules about having sex, we have ours for the Blue boys: during a White party, which this camp is, all White boys can demand oral or anal sex from the boys wearing blue briefs. The boys in Blue cannot refuse. They can ask back, but Whites can refuse." He waited to see the impact of his words, and nodded to Julian Kerr, the English scoutmaster, who took over.
"Since we are guests, we will mix with the Mackey and follow their rules during this camp," Julian cut to the chase, igniting a sharp intake of breath from many boys from the Bradley Troop.
"The Mackey clan has the rule of approximately 1 Blue boy for 4 White boys, so with 17 of us British and 35 Americans, we will select 10 Blue boys servicing 42 White boys. The current boys wearing blue briefs will be dismissed from now on, and we will start the selection of a new team of 10."
After his words, it was silent for a few seconds and then the boys started to chatter, some making fun, in particular the Blue boys who were unexpectedly dismissed from their duty, others in mild protest, realizing that their asses suddenly were seriously at risk again. Everyone, the Mackey as well as the Bradley boys, knew what a White party would entail, though the Mackey knew from experience, whereas the Bradley boys were only told before they went on the trip to the U.S. But now that it was so clearly explained, it suddenly became a shocking reality.
While the scoutmaster told the boys about the change of plans, the assistant scoutmasters went to the staff building to pick up four big mail bags containing about 50 packages, which they emptied behind the scoutmaster on the stage.
"I think the Mackey will recognize this," he joked with a teasing smile on his face, "these are the sets of blue briefs for each of you, the Mackey boys and the Bradley boys." From the Mackey boys came some protest, `you said you'd send them home so our moms knew we weren't Blue' but `this change of rules looks like a set-up from the beginning'. The English boys just sat there, not really knowing what to think of these new rules.
"You're right, lads," the U.K. scoutmaster took over, addressing the Mackey boys, "you were under the impression that, once you could wear white pants, the blue would have been sent home, but we had other plans, so we kept them, just in case..."
"Oh God," Leroy moaned, "So, Mom didn't receive my blue briefs, and now she must think I'm being fucked as a Blue boy."
Several other Mackey boys sighed and rolled their eyes when they also realized that this was likely the case.
To the English boys he said,
"In this pile, we have for each of you a set of blue pants as well. Your parents packed them without you knowing about it," making the Bradley boys moan and the Mackey boys gloat.
"The way we selected our Blue boys two days ago was by a card game, more or less a gamble, or you can call it a lottery," the Mackey scoutmaster continued, "but at camps, we had some games with competition to select the Winners and the Losers. Today we'll have a perfect mix of those methods." The boys waited anxiously at what he was about to explain further and Jonathan winked knowingly at Mike. He was right: this afternoon's game was part of the selection without them knowing it, so his strategy to stay in the middle might save him from being turned.
"As you have noticed, the best won a maximum of 18 points, the absolute losers had as few as 6 points," he added, looking inwardly grinning at Leroy and Winston, who saw the look in his eyes that made them lose their boastfulness, not sure if this was good or bad news.
"These points are part of the score that will decide if you're going to wear blue briefs for the rest of this camp, or not."
After the brouhaha calmed down a little, the scoutmaster explained to the troops how the next selection will be made.
"As Julian mentioned, there will be 10 Blue boys, but one is already selected. David has volunteered to remain Blue for the rest of this camp, which allows him to get his sign off the Community Service and become Eagle Scout."
A loud applause and shouts rose up from the boys, and David just smiled shyly, knowing that he now definitely had let slip the opportunity to literarily save his ass.
"We also have our special exemption this camp: Simon Alan Mackey. He will also not take part in this game, he will remain White." The Mackey boys murmured a little in understanding, and the scoutmaster continued,
"So, we're going to select 9 Blue boys and we'll do so with a card game, like we've done two days ago with the Mackey troop and the outcome of the games this afternoon."
He waited for the murmuring from the boys to die away and went on,
"The card game is easy. We have four decks of 52 cards, two red decks and two blue. You will pick 3 cards, first, one from the red, then one from the blue, and then again one from the other red deck. You count the total value of your pick. The ace is only 1 point, the King 13. So the minimum score is 3, the maximum is 39 points. We also have the extra blue deck. If you want to gamble on a better score, you are allowed to swap your blue card for a new card from the second blue deck. But we have this little extra: the decks each have one extra card: a joker. If you pick the red joker, you are a Loser and the game ends for you instantly. If you pick the blue joker, you are a Winner and the game ends for you as well. The good thing is that there is a chance, however small, that with 53 cards per deck and 50 of you in the game, the blue or red jokers might not be drawn."
The boys sat silently staring at the flames, realizing that their fate soon would be sealed: 9 Blues out of 50 by a lottery. That's at least a fair and equal chance.
"Finally, when you have your score, for all of you, except David who is already Blue and Simon who will remain White and maybe a Winner or Loser by pulling the joker, we will add the score of the games to the value of your cards. The total will count for who will be Winner and who will be Loser."
The boys looked pensively at the scoutmaster. So this selection is partially a gamble, but also partially already set by their scores. It was hard for them to fathom the consequences, but Leroy at full bragging mode shouted that with his score, he'd be a Winner again. Winston nodded contentedly; he would definitely be a Winner too.
"Do you think what I think?" Jonathan whispered at Mike.
"I think you were right all along. They use the score to tweak the outcome a little."
"Exactly, and with all his bragging, stupid Leroy must have forgotten what the price for being a Winner was. Chances are that they will do the same as last time. The average value is 7, so with three decks it's 21 on average, and 39 max. And he has 17 points already. Boy, am I glad we stayed at the middle of the road."
The scoutmaster continued, "the lowest total score makes you a Loser, the highest, a Winner," but before he could finish Winston blared, `yesss, we definitely will be winners, Leroy! ' and he bumped him on his arm in premature triumph. But Leroy suddenly remembered what the price for the Winner was last time, and his heart skipped a beat. He had earned 17 points and Winston 16. He gulped.
Hugh Bradley frowned and as he didn't fully understand, he raised his hand,
"but who will be Blue then? Are the Losers with the lowest points going to wear blue?"
"Good question. I think the Mackey scouts might know the answer, right?" and he looked at the boys around the campfire, waiting for someone to give the answer.
"Last time the Winner has to wear Blue, so I guess today will be the same?" Nick answered a bit unsure.
"Exactly! The nine boys with the highest scores will be Blue, or eight or seven if one or two blue jokers are picked. Well, now you all spread a little, you do not want anyone else seeing your cards, and use that information to decide to swap one or not. The boys moved a little, and the scoutmaster took the first red deck and let the boys each pick one. He was just over halfway when a clear and happy "Yesss! Yoo-hoo!" came from the bleachers.
"A red joker, I guess?" the scoutmaster said, looking at the direction where the shout came from. Visibly relieved, Darrell Mackey stood up, proudly showing his joker.
"A joker indeed, we have our first Loser. You can sit down; you'll be White for the rest of the time. Now we'll wait for the red deck to be finished and then we'll proceed with blue."
The scoutmaster took the first blue deck and walked around to let the boys pick a card. When he had let the boys pick their card, he walked back. There was no one announcing that he had the joker, so obviously one of the remaining cards in his hand must be the joker. He looked at the cards: a 6 of spades, diamonds 10 and 5. He looked at the boys. Someone must have drawn the joker, but didn't tell. With all the tense faces, it was hard to tell who the poor boy was, but when he saw one of the British boys looking down at his feet, he knew.
"You have picked 50 cards from the blue deck, so I have here the remaining three. And there is no joker," and he held up the three cards.
"So, one of you is a Winner by picking the blue joker!" he said, playing the show master inviting a happy contestant to step forward. But in this case, the winning contestant wasn't happy. He fully well knew that he was done for.
Edward Covington sighed and fought his tears. This was it. He raised his hand holding the joker. He was used at being fucked. He was 14, so he had over half a year's experience with many Bradley boys. But having to perform here for these Mackey boys as well, under their rules! He was not a happy camper.
When he moved forward to the stage, assistant scoutmaster Dennis Lear went through the packages until he found the one with his name on it.
"We have our first Winner today," the scoutmaster cheered, pointing at Edward Covington, "give him a well-deserved applause!"
The boys laughed and applauded, albeit not in a full-hearted way, knowing that their time could come as well.
"Well, Edward, you are the first tonight, congrats, here is the package with your blue briefs your mom has packed for you, just in case..." Edward blushed furiously and took the package and wanted to return to his place.
"Wait, not so fast! You have to change here."
Thinking this day couldn't get worse, he sighed and opened the package to take one of the blue briefs from it, and then changed on the stage, making several boys snigger. Deeply ashamed, he quickly returned to his place, the opened package and his now redundant whites under his arm.
"That's one down and 8 to go," joked the scoutmaster, making the boys groan. Dennis took the second red deck and let the boys pick a card again. This time almost all boys had picked a card, only five to go before a second time a more than happy `Yesss!' filled the air, and Ralph Roberts, Cedric Roberts' 14-year-old brother, jumped up to show his joker.
"Ralph is our second Loser today and he can sit down, because he no longer has to play this game any further." He waited a moment to let the boys settle, and count their cards.
"We have had the two red decks of cards and one blue deck, and we have two Losers and one Winner. Now we have only one blue deck left. It's up to you whether or not you want to swap a blue card for another blue card. Remember, the highest points will decide who the Winners are.
The stressed boys made their calculations, looking at the cards, adding the points from the game and then trying to find out if they were on the safe side or not.
Rodney sat staring at his cards, feeling his stomach turn with the queen of diamonds he drew from the blue deck in his hands. He had doubts: if he picked a new card, he almost couldn't do worse than the queen. But there was still a joker in the deck. What if he swapped the queen for a joker? He would be Blue instantly. He had just a bit mediocre score from the games, so maybe he was okay. God what a mess!
Hugh and Howard looked at each other. They didn't dare to peek at the other one's cards in fear of being punished, but the anxious look in Howard's eyes made Hugh shiver. He must have high value cards, he thought. He had quite a low value: his score at the game was not the best, but not the lowest either, so he suspected Howard to be in some danger of being selected. The sheer thought of one of them selected as Blue and being fucked mercilessly, clenched his throat. They were only 13. In Bradley, they couldn't even be fucked. Blowjobs were the only assignment when you're 13. They can't make them Blue when they're only 13, can they? And they were in a formal relationship, so why were they in this game anyway?
It was clear that the complex combination of cards and score, together with the extra chance of a swapped card was too much for most boys to make a clear decision, and only 11 boys raised their hands when the scoutmaster asked if someone wanted to swap a blue card.
The boys on the bleachers held their breaths each time one of the 11 boys took a card, eyes closed as to avoid seeing the card showing a higher value, or worse, being the dreaded joker. Dustin felt sick. He had a value of 31 with this stupid queen. His score at the games was just average for what he remembered, so if he was in danger, it must be the cards. It was a devilish dilemma: lower the value at risk of picking the joker. He had raised his hands, almost without thinking, and now that the pack was presented to him, his stomach turned. With a trembling hand, he took his queen, handed it to the assistant, and with his eyes closed, he picked up a card. He didn't dare to look. But before he could look, the boy next to him saw the card and excitedly shouted, `an 8 of clubs! That's not the joker, you lucky bastard!' Relieved to his core, Dustin regained his breath. 27 points was still high, but hopefully not high enough to earn him Blue. At least he had not picked the dreaded joker. Hew!
Card after card was swapped, and the tension rose with each card, everyone knowing that with each card gone, the chances to pick the joker increased. Six times a very deep sigh of relief was heard after a deafening silence when once again a lucky boy picked a better card, and not the joker. Glenn Gilbey and Graham Clive from the Bradley Troop had moaned softly when they picked up a card that was the same or a little worse, but no joker so far.
With only two boys waiting to swap cards, and the joker still in the deck, Fred Mackey and Rodney Weiberg regretted their decision to swap cards. This tension was too much. This game was really shit. They knew their score, which was a bit above average as far as they could recollect, the cards in their hands were a certainty. Why in heaven's name did they decide to swap? What if they pick the joker? Then all would be lost, whereas they could stand a fair chance with the points they had.
Fred picked his card. Shit, 8 of spades. This was just 2 points lower than the 10 he swapped. But he was relieved that it wasn't the joker.
Rodney heard Fred's soft `hew' and he knew that he was safe, at least no joker. But he also knew that his chance to pick that dreaded card was now increased. He handed in his queen, and picked a new card, quickly closing his eyes, not ready yet for the confrontation. He held the card against his chest, taking a deep breath. `Oh dear God, please, let it be a good card, please?'
Only the soft crackle of the gently burning campfire could be heard as he sat trembling with the card in his hand.
He looked: a 7 of hearts. The sudden relief from stress made his eyes water. This was better than he had dared to hope, and hopefully it was enough for being saved from the ultimate fate.
"Well, those were some scary moments, right boys?" the scoutmaster said when the assistant returned with the cards.
"Please remain seated, and Dennis and Aaron will come to you to collect your cards and write down your points. They will then calculate your total score. While they do their calculations, you can take some food, a snack, and drinks.
But the boys were too stressed to care about food or drinks. Getting to know the result was the only thing on their minds right now. Even the guitar playing couldn't bring them a bit of distraction.
Finally, the two assistants returned with the results and handed it to the scoutmasters, who clanked quickly at it and looked at each other approvingly.
"I think you're desperate to know the results, aren't you?" the scoutmaster started. The boys murmured affirmatively.
"Well, let's get it over with, then," and he and the British scoutmaster taking turns, naming the boys and their final points, beginning with the lowest. Each time a name was mentioned, a gigantic sigh of relief was heard, and some `congratulations' and a well-meant `lucky bastard' from their friends.
When 30 boys had heard their score and were relieved to no extent that they were selected as Whites, the remaining 17 boys knew that they had almost a 50% change to end up as Blue.
Both Winston and Leroy had completely lost their rodomontade and stared increasingly nervous at the scoutmasters, fiercely hoping that the next name would be theirs.
Hugh was in despair, even though his name was already mentioned. With a meager score from the games and a lucky hand of cards, his total was quite low, so he was safe. But Howard's name was still not mentioned and he started to worry. Howard couldn't be selected, could he? No, that wasn't possible, he had about the same score at the games and he was only 13, so, he shouldn't be selected to be fucked by these Americans or any one of ours for that matter. They were boyfriends! They were in a formal relationship; they shouldn't have to have sex with anyone, right? Their formal relationship should protect them, that was the gain of all the humiliation of going through the approval process, that is being witnessed 3 times having sex, even by his father who was part of The Village Circle. He looked at Howard who was staring at the scoutmasters with an increasing mix of hope and disbelief.
Slowly but surely the list of remaining boys shrank. 16 boys..., 15 boys..., 14 boys..., and every time a boy heard his name, his sigh of relief was drowned out by the increasingly louder groans of the boys who realized that their fate was coming closer and closer to turning Blue.
Two names later, they all knew that with only three names to go, only three out of the remaining eleven would be spared. A small chance was still in the cards, but hope was fading by the minute. So they had to consider that they had a bigger chance to end up wearing blue briefs for the rest of this camp, and they started dreading the obligations these blue briefs would come with.
"Well, boys, we were looking for 10 Blue boys, and we already have David Mackey and Edward Covington thanks to his lucky draw of the joker," the scoutmaster said releasing two more boys, very much to their relief.
"We have 9 of you still waiting for their final result. One of you will be the last Loser of this game. The rest of you will be Winners, and your prize will be a nice set of blue briefs to wear for the rest of this camp."
The 9 boys at risk moaned. Why this procrastination? Why make them suffer so long? Please, get it over with. Let it be my name as the last Loser some were even thinking, please let us know the last Loser.
The scoutmaster noticed that the boys who were already Losers were a bit uneasy with his deliberate teasing of the last 9 boys, and he made the final call.
"With 43 points, 12 from the games, and 31 from the card game, the last Loser is ..." He had a quick look at the paper with the names and continued,
"The last Loser is...
***
Next episode:
Who is the last Loser?
What will happen with Hugo?
English scouts wearing blue at a Mackey White Party? Oh dear...
To be continued...