The Girl Guides

By Adrian

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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I joined the Cubs when I was 9 and transferred to the Scout troop when I was 12. At 13 I attended my very first camp.

It was a properly established site with central facilities and individual camping areas with fenced boundaries, some in the fields and others in woodland clearings. One day I and three of my friends, all first time campers, had gone for a walk and we came across a Girl Guides camp - only a small one with about 6 large ridge tents. It appeared to be deserted and after carefully making sure that there was no one around we ran into the site and quickly let some of the tents down, which we thought was a big laugh.

A couple of days later the four of us were out again walking in some woods near the Guides camp when suddenly a crowd of girl guides appeared and tried to ambush us. We realised immediately who they were and we all turned and ran like mad but I tripped over a tree root, my three friends making their escape.

The girls - there were about 7 or 8 of them - immediately grabbed hold of me and frog marched me back to their camp, took me into one of their tents and laced up the tent flaps. I was trapped.

Having successfully captured me they didn’t seem to know what to do with me. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but there was a lot of whispering and giggling going on. Suddenly I was grabbed and pulled to the ground where despite my wild struggling, my scout T shirt was pulled off and my arms and legs were firmly pinned down and my shoes and socks removed. I couldn’t see what they were doing because one of the girls was leaning across my chest blocking my view but I suddenly felt my scout shorts go slack round my waist as the belt was undone and to my horror I could feel fingers fumbling with the fly buttons (pre-zip days) and then my shorts being pulled down and off. The girls went quiet as one of them slowly pulled down my boxers, then a burst of giggling when my penis popped up, released from the constraint of the elastic waistband. My boxers were soon lying on the ground in a heap with the rest of my clothes while I was stretched out pinned flat on my back completely naked. I could see the girls weren't looking at my face!

I was utterly horrified, my eyes were filling with hot tears at what was happening. I was so embarrassed - I was at the stage where early signs of puberty were beginning to kick in - my penis, fully circumcised, was no longer a little boy’s willy, I had a few wisps of pubic hair and my testicles had grown more prominent.

There was one older girl who seemed to be in charge, the rest were about my age or younger. By now I realised there was no point in struggling so I decided to lay still and hoped that having taken a good look at me they would soon let me go. But unfortunately they hadn’t finished with me and my embarrassment level was about to go off the scale.

My view was still blocked by the girl leaning across me but I could feel the older girl had taken hold of my penis and was beginning to gently squeeze and pull it and I soon began to feel myself growing hard. Meanwhile, another girl had produced a pack of coloured marker pens. The girl blocking my view moved back and I could see the older girl was holding down my stiff penis and drawing on it.

After what seemed an eternity they let go of my arms. I immediately sat up and looked down at my erection to discover it decorated with a snake design - a green and yellow zig zags along the shaft and two red eyes on my knob-end. When they finally said I could go I found they had taken my clothes to the gate at the entrance to their camp and I had to run naked across the field accompanied by mocking laughter. After I had pulled my clothes on I went and found a quiet spot in the woods where I had a good cry.

If all this hadn’t been bad enough there was an unexpected sequel.

Later that day I and the three boys who had let the girls tents down were told to report to the Scout leader in the equipment storeroom - a wooden hunt, largely empty, at the edge of the site. He had somehow found out about the Guides tents being let down and questioned us about it. We admitted we were responsible - it was obvious that he already knew it was us.

He gave us a good telling off then to our dismay he announced he was going to cane us (he was allowed to do this - the form which our parents had to sign before the camp included them agreeing to the Scout leader administering reasonable punishment including corporal punishment if thought to be deserved - nothing unusual, this was a time when canes were widely used in schools).

He produced a cane which I recognised as a lightweight junior school model, then we had to step forward one at a time and hold our hands out for a hard stroke on each hand. I thought that was it but then he told us to remove our shorts and boxers and again we stepped forward one at a time and touched our toes for four more strokes, not quite so hard, on our bottoms. My T shirt was quite short and when I stepped forward the snake design on my penis was clearly visible to the Scout Leader - the markers must have been spirit based because I hadn’t been able to wash the ink off. He demanded to know why I had a painted penis - I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth so I said that someone in my tent had done it for a joke but I didn’t know who because I had been asleep. I said they’d unzipped my sleeping bag and pulled down my pyjamas and done it without waking me. I said I'd tried to wash it but the ink wouldn't come off.

The final humiliation - the Scout Leader's wife, Mrs Williams was a childrens' nurse and she came to our camps to be responsible for first aid, sicknesses and the like. The Scout Leader told me I should go and ask her to clean me up. I didn't know what to do - I could just not go - but then he would probably find out and anyway, I did want to get the ink off - I was due back at school the following week and the thought of my classmates seeing my 'tattoo' in the showers was too awful to contemplate. There was no alternative really - I had to go and see Mrs Williams.

The first difficulty was telling her - I stuck to my story that the other boys in my tent had painted me with marker pens whilst I was asleep and could I have something please to get the ink off. Inevitably she wanted to know where the ink was - but what word should I use? Red faced, I just pointed to the front of my shorts. She said it would come off with meths or surgical spirit but she couldn't just give it to me because it was inflammable and there could be an accident and not to worry she'd seen loads of boys' bodies and so no need to feel embarrassed - some hope!.

I resigned myself to my fate. I undressed, laid on the camp bed, closed my eyes and thought of England. My penis felt ice cold as she swabbed me with the spirit and I could feel it trickling cold over my balls as well. Then she washed me with a soapy flannel finishing with some sort of hand cream by which time any forlorn hope I had entertained of being able to keep my penis under control had fully evaporated. Thankfully, she didn't comment.

I think that day was the most embarrassing (and painful) experience I ever had, before or since.

(The End)