Summer Camp Chapter 3

Summer Camp Chapter 3
by Josh Brown

Please let me know if you enjoy this story by e-mailing me at classified43 [at] gmail.com (remove and replace the [at] with @). You may also send comments or suggestions for future plot developments. Flames will be ignored.

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit 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. This story is FICTION and the author does not condone any of the activities contained herein taking place in the real world.

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Chapter 3: Rub-a-Dub-Dub

"Well, come on, let's go," said Greg, "Tim you need to take a shower to get that urine cleaned off of your body before you can start participating in camp activities today. And leave that underwear there on the floor!" Tim had just been reaching for his underwear to try and cover himself a bit better.

"Well, um, OK, I'll go take a shower i guess. See you guys later." said Tim.

"I don't think so," Bill said quickly, "Luke trusted us to keep an eye on you, and we need to make sure that you really do shower and get cleaned up. This is a big responsibility for us, and I know that I speak for the others as well when I say that we plan to take it very seriously. I think that you will go and take a shower right now, and we will come with you to make sure you wash yourself correctly."

"Now look here," said Tim, beginning to loose his temper a bit, "this is ridiculous! I'm not going to take a shower with you guys watching me. This is crazy and I'm not going to do it."

"OK, well then perhaps you'd like us to go and get Luke back again," said Greg.

Tim hung his head in when he realized that there was nothing he could do but follow their directions and hope to find a way out of this mess soon.

"Alright, let's go, get moving!" said Bill, opening the cabin door and motioning Tim towards the outdoors.

"I'm not going outside! I'm totally naked, close the door!", Tim shouted, horrified that someone might look inside the cabin and see him there.

Bill looked at him, and at the others, and said, "Well we're not waiting around for you to shower, so let's get going. Here, put this towel around your waist." He handed Tim a small hand towel that was over the end of his camp bed.

"There is no way I'm going outside in this," Tim said defiantly, "I'm going to get dressed and then I'll go to the showers."

He moved towards his trunk in an attempt to get his clothes. Just as he was doing that, Bill caught his arm, and pulled him away, handed him the towel, and pointed him towards the door. The other boys pushed him outside, and Tim suddenly found himself outside the cabin, totally naked! He quickly wrapped the towel around himself as best he could, and looked around to see if there were any other kids outside. Just at that moment a bell clanged through the air which was the signal for breakfast to begin. Luckily for Tim, this meant that all of the other campers were already up at the dining hall, so there was nobody around to see him walking to the showers in just a tiny little towel that only just barely covered what he wanted to keep hidden. Tim walked quickly and kept glancing around, hoping that he would not be seen.

He couldn't believe the position that he was in. He didn't even like to be seen with his shirt off, and here he was, almost totally naked, walking out in broad daylight with three other clothed boys! He held tightly to the towel and prayed that they would make it to the showers quickly, so he could get back to the cabin before breakfast ended and the campers spilled back out into the main area to go to their cabins. The walk seemed a lot longer than he remembered it from the tour the day before.

Finally they arrived at the shower block and Tim, relieved, ran inside. Now, unlike camps of the past, where campers, especially boys, would have showered in one large room, this camp had newer facilities that catered to the modestly inherent in many modern children. There were twelve individual shower stalls, each with a plastic shower curtain that could be pulled across the front to create a small amount of privacy for the current occupant. Actually, however, Greg had noticed the day before that one of the shower curtains was not working right, and was caught up to one side of the stall in the middle on the right side of the shower room. He directed Tim towards that shower stall.

"Go ahead, get in and get cleaned up," he said, "use that shower so that we can watch and make sure that you are cleaning yourself properly. In fact, that is the shower that you are going to use from now on, regardless of whether we are here with you are not, is that clear? If we can't keep an eye on you, maybe we can ask some of the other boys to help out."

Tim looked at him again, and couldn't believe that this was getting worse. How could they expect him to shower with them standing there and watching? He hadn't even let his mother give him a bath since he was eight years old, and he always carefully locked the bathroom door at home before he got into the shower these days.

"Guys, please, I promise that I'll wash all over, you don't have to watch," Tim pleaded, looking at them, begging them to cut him some slack. But the boys were resolute. Bill whipped the tiny towel away and they pushed him into the shower and turned the water on freezing cold. Tim screamed at the shock of the icy water, and reached out to change it, but Greg stopped him, saying, "No, little boys who pee in their underpants don't get to use warm water to wash. Just get on with it and hurry up!"

Tim, shivering in the cold, began to wash himself, at the same time thinking over Greg's words. He was even more afraid now of possibly wetting his bed, since he had a feeling that if it got this bad over just a little pee stain, he couldn't imagine what the boys would think if he were to be so 'dirty' as to pee in his bed. He grabbed the soap and turned away from the boys to wash the front of his body, but a hand reached into the shower and turned him back around.

"Come on, none of that," said Bill, "you know that we have to make sure you clean yourself correctly, so we need to watch you do it."

As Tim turned around, and began to soap himself up, Dave, who had been relatively quiet on the way over to the showers, suddenly burst out laughing, "Look at his dick guys! I guess it doesn't like the cold -- see how much it has shrunk!"

Tim looked down at himself. Like most boys his age, he was very sensitive about the size of his penis, and, although he had started puberty the year before, and had a decent growth of pubic hair, he was always afraid that he was too small down there. He blushed bright red and looked at the floor, wishing it would open and swallow him up. Unfortunately, this was not Tim's lucky day, and he was forced to simply stand there and soap up his body, including his genitals, so that the older boys could 'supervise' him and make sure that he got himself clean.

After ten minutes, and several comments by the boys about making sure he was really totally clean, Bill pronounced that he was satisfied with Tim's level of cleanliness, but Greg said, "Wait, there's one other place that we haven't checked him yet. I have done some babysitting, and younger boys usually aren't very clean there."

Tim bristled at this characterization of himself as a 'younger' boy, but said nothing, waiting to see what else Greg would say.

"Turn around, bend over, and spread your butt cheeks open with your hands Tim." Greg said. "The little boys I babysit for usually don't wipe themselves very well, and so their butts are really dirty. I've been watching, and you haven't cleaned inside your butt crack yet." The other boys broke up laughing at this, but also said that they agreed with Greg, and that Tim should do as he was told to make sure that he was clean everywhere.

Tim looked at them, his nakedness forgotten for the moment, and then finally started screaming: "No way! I'm not going to show you guys my asshole! That's gross and disgusting and private, and you guys are fucking perverts wanting to see it!" He even started crying a little bit as he shouted at them and vented all his pent up emotion from the morning. He stood there raging at them for five minutes before he finally quieted down, and began to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Fine," Greg said, "We'll just go and get Luke, and see what he has to say about your proper cleaning. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know that you have such strong views, and used such bad language towards us." Tim had his doubts as to whether Luke would think it was OK that the boys wanted to see his butt hole, but he realized that he couldn't afford to press his luck -- he was already in enough trouble with Luke as it was. He sighed heavily, and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to do as they asked.

He slowly turned around, hating every minute of it, and bent over at the waist. He reached back and pulled his butt cheeks apart and stood there, totally humiliated, as the boys leaned in to look at his most private place. He felt like crying again as he looked back and saw them peering into his crack, looking for signs of dirt. Greg saw nothing, but didn't feel that this opportunity should be wasted. He instructed Tim to reach out, get one of his hands soapy, and clean himself back there. Tim looked at him pleadingly, but saw nothing but Greg's firm determination to follow his charge from Luke as thoroughly as was necessary. Tim carefully reached back and cleaned himself while the other boys looked on.

Finally, Greg said, "Well that is fine, but now you need to clean the inside. If the outside was so dirty, then the inside probably is too. Take one of your fingers and stick it inside your butt hole and clean yourself out with soapy water."

Tim couldn't believe what he was hearing. Greg had to be joking, there was no way that Tim was going to stick a finger inside there. It really was dirty in there -- that was where his poop came from! He looked back to see what the expression on Greg's face, and realized that he was totally serious.

"But, but, it's dirty back there ... it's dangerous, I might hurt myself, I can't do that!" Tim said to Greg.

Greg replied, "Don't worry, you won't hurt yourself. You know that fags stick their fingers and other guys dicks' up their assholes all the time, and it doesn't hurt them. Well, except for turning them into little pussy boys. Maybe if you keep yourself clean in the future, we'll only have to do this once and you won't end up turning into a fag. Come on, get your finger soaped up and stick it up your little butt hole."

Tim looked back to the front and took a deep breath. He realized that he had no choice and would have to do what was these boys were asking. As he soaped up his finger, he thought about what Greg had said. He had heard about fags of course, and he knew that they were really bad. His dad talked about them all the time, and how they were ruining the country and were depraved sick monsters. He was really scared now about what he was doing. His dad had told him once that he was never to touch his butt hole, other than wiping it clean after going to the bathroom, because that would turn him into a fag. And now here was Greg, saying exactly the same thing! He looked back again, but Greg's expression was resolute and he was getting impatient. Tim slowly reached his finger back and just hoped that doing it this once wouldn't turn him into a fag.

He felt the outside of his hole and tried to push in, but his anus wouldn't open up. Greg helpfully suggested that he should push out, like he was pooping, and Tim started to do that when suddenly he felt his finger slide in up to the first digit! It was a very strange sensation, just like when he was trying to poop out a big BM that held his hole open for a long time -- that same sense of fullness with a slightly burning sensation. He quickly pulled his finger back, and felt it pop out, worried that he had hurt something. Greg told him that he was doing it correctly, but that he needed to put his finger back in and rub the soap around, then do it again with just water to wash the soap out. Tim quickly tried to finish his task, and after several attempts, managed to do it to Greg's satisfaction.

He turned back around and Greg shut of the shower water and handed him Bill's towel: "Here, hurry up and dry off and let's get back to the cabin."

Tim dried off as best as he could with the tiny towel and wrapped it back around his waist again. The boys hurried back to the cabin, luckily arriving just as the end of breakfast bell rang. Tim raced over to his trunk, pulled out some clothes, and got dressed, while the other boys stayed there watching him until all his clothes were on.

"Now," said Bill, "just so we're clear on the new rules. We are going to keep an eye on you and make sure that you stay clean and that you follow the other camp policies. Luke, the counselor, has given us this assignment, so you need to do as you are told and not argue with us. You will take a shower each morning, and at least one of us will accompany you there to make sure you clean yourself. We will not watch you as closely as we did today, but if we think you are not doing a good job, we will be forced to take other measures. There may be other things that we need you to do, and we'll let you know what they are as the days go on. Do you understand all of this?"

Tim nodded reluctantly, although he was thinking as hard as he could about a way to escape from this predicament. The boys raced up to the dining hall, hoping that there was still some leftover food from breakfast that they could snag before beginning their first day at camp.