The Colordao Woods, summer, 1986.
12 year old Peter Winthurp laid, shirtless, in his tent shivering beneath his sleeping bag. His tent was at the outer fringe of the clearing, away from the other boy scouts. He was trembling not because he was cold, the Colorado air was only a little chilly, but he was trembling in fear. He saw a lantern heading his way, he suspected he knew who it was, and that terrorfied him, Peter was a small, skinny, prebuscent boy who scared easily, especially men. His stepdad got mad at Peter a lot, and when he did, he made Peter drop his pants (not his underwear) and grab his ankles for 10 hard swats with the pine wood paddle he had made especially for the boy.
And he was right, the light headed straight for his tent. Peter had feared this particular scout master for a couple of months now. He thought the man would drag him out of his tent, take him behind a tree, and make him get on his knees. Peter figured he would have the man’s hand’s on top of his brown short hair and the man’s thick penis head in his mouth, Peter gagged just thinking about what happened after 20 minutes of sucking, groaning, gagging, when the man shot his adult sized jizz load in his mouth, making the boy swallow it. He had done it just like that for over a dozen times on the last few overnighters. He didn’t want to do it, it tasted nasty, the semen almost made him puke it was so salty and smelly, but it was “do it or else!”. He didn’t want to make the man mad, he might get slapped again. And he certainly didn’t want the other boys to find out, they would call him a fag, taunt him. And it would get around school. Peter already had a tough enough time, because unlike the rest of the boys who wore the standard tightey whities, his mom bought him colored haines briefs. Last time, when she had gone to buy his back to school clothes, he had asked her for white briefs, so he didn’t get made fun of in p.e. where he was the only boy who wore colored underwear, but she had conviently forgotten and bought him the colored ones she favoured. In the troop, only 1 other boy wore fashion briefs.
But Peter was wrong, he wasn’t going to be getting sore knees this night, it would be much worse. Peter held his breathe in fright as his tent flap unzipped. His 35 year old, slim yet muscular scoutmaster stepped in, closing the flap behind him, putting the lantern on the side. Peter noticed he was carrying a big bottle of vasline but he had no idea why yet. He would come to fear vascline more than even his stepdad’s paddle. This was different and that scared him even more, usually the man would order him out of the tent. The much larger, permanently angry looking man knelt beside Peter and undid the side of his sleeping bag, he spread it wide, leaving the 12 year old laying there in just his socks and jeans. Peter gasped as hands started tracing up and down his skinny, smooth chest. It brought goosebumps to his skin, Peter hated the calloused hands touching him. The man didn’t speak, his hands went to the waistband of Peter’s Levis. Peter sucked in his gut as the man unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans, spreading the fly.
“Doncha Move!” Peter closed his eyes, squeezed them shut. This was too much for his young mind to take in. The man grasp his ankles, one at a time, and took the socks off, tossing them to the side. Peter gulped as the man grasp both his ankle cuffs, and slowly pulled his jeans off, leaving him in just his red haines briefs. The Levi’s were tossed to the side. The man shifted back, until he was once again kneeling beside the much smaller boy. He once again rubbed the boy, who was breathing in gulps,
“Any boy that wears colored underwear is just asking for it.. sissy boy...”
Peter knew he wasn’t a sissy, he liked girls, but he didn’t argue with the man, he never did, not after that one slap. The large hands gripped his cotton covered hips and rolled Peter onto his stomache. A finger began tracing up and down his spine, from the knape of his neck to the tag in the back of his jockies.
“I bet a boy like you has a really tight butt...” Peter became worried, he still didn’t get it. The man’s hands slid down his sides, digging under the crisp white waistband of his underwear, and the size 14 red haines briefs were pulled down his legs and off his ankles, and ended up crumbled on top of the boy’s jeans. Peter gasped once again as the man grabbed his pillow and yanked it from beneath his head. In one motion, the man picked Peter’s up by the hips and jammed the pillow underneath his pelvis, propping the boy’s skinny bubble butt up. Hands gripped his ankles and spread his legs far apart, the man jabbed a finger in Peter’s face and ordered him not to move. Peter laid tense, nervous, like he would spring up and run into the woods. He looked on with wide, teary eyes. The man laughed,
“I’ll give you something to really cry about boy!” and the man began to undress, first his khaki pants, then his white boxers. Peter was always surprised by the size of the man’s limp circumsized penis. It was always bigger then he remembered, despite having sucked it to climax a dozen times. The man couldn’t be thinking of putting that monster in his butt! Peter had heard boys say the word “buttfuck” but he didn’t know it was actually done. Peter turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut, praying for this to be over soon. He heard the squeak of a bottle then a squishy sound as the scoutmaster lathered his cock with a generous load of vasline until it was bone hard. Peter nearly screamed out when he felt the man scoot between his spread legs, the man used his knees to knock Peter’s legs even further apart. The hairy legs kept the boy’s smoothe, slender legs spread as the man laid his hairy chest over Peter’s naked back. Peter became even more tense, sobbing, as he felt one of the man’s hands spread his buttcheeks, and the hard rubbery knob of the man’s penis cap began pressing intimately at his butthole. The man’s free hand gripped Peter’s wrist and pinned it down by the boy’s head. Peter cringed as he felt the man lean in, his hot cigarette smelling breathe on his cheek,
“Going to cornhole you so hard...your going to walk funny for a week.”
Peter’s choir like, high pitched voice begged, “Please, don’t...No...” but Peter knew begging never helped. The man was going to do whatever he wanted to do, he was just a weak, small boy and he couldn’t fight back. The huge, oversized slimey rubber knob began pressing harder and harder, Peter felt anxiety on a level he had never expierenced before. Then it happened, the arrow shape began piercing him, his hole stretching wider and wider, impossibly wide. Then all of a sudden, the cockhead forced entirely in, slipping past the tight ring of muscle that was the boy scout’s sphincter. It felt to Peter like it ripped, tears dripped down his cheeks as he grimaced, panting,
“Please...no...it hurts....take it out....it’s too big!”
The man paused a moment, the naked boy arching under him, trying to shake him off. His body dwarfed the boy’s, Peter’s head only came up to his chin.
“Damn you have a tight ass, so tight, it almost hurt my dick.” He waited, letting the boy stretch to his impossible size. After a minute or two, he pushed down again into the boy, forcing another inch of his adult penis into the 12 year old boy’s anus. Peter cried out in pain, he couldn’t believe this was happening to him. The man, fearing the other boys might investigate the noise, reached over and balled up Peter’s red briefs and forced them into Peters mouth to muffle the boy scouts cries. He knew the boy was going to cry, any boy would cry taking a grown man’s cock up his butt. This was all about the man getting off, shooting a wad, and the boy having to take it. Peter’s mom took his temperature rectally, and his doctor had stuck a finger in his butt once during a physical, this was so much worse, his anus felt like it tore and he was so constipated if felt like his tummy was going to blow up. He screamed out, his voice muffled by the red briefs stuffing his mouth, as the man pushed down again and it seemed like Peter’s anus couldn’t take any more until he opened up and another inch of the man’s penis suddenly slid deeper. The man rested on top of him, letting Peter’s rectum dialate to his cucumber size, he now gripped both of the boy’s wrists. He looked down and saw what looked like an impossible sight, his thick cock disappearing between the boy’s small butt cheeks. As a former reform school guard, he had fucked boys as young as 11, so he knew 12 year old Peter could take it, he just wouldn’t like it. He began the actual motions of sodomizing the good looking boy scout. Peter felt immense relief as the thick cock pulled back, only to cry out in agony as it punched back in, stretching his anus. The man started slow, thrusting 20 times a minute, pulling his penis back a few inches so that only his cockhead remained, then pushing down hard, causing the boy scout to cry out in pain. He was going to make this last, really give the boy a 1,000 stroke buttfucking. The boy would never forget him.
The man began to speed up, pistoning 3 inches of his thick cock into the boy’s super tight, slick shit tube. Peter cried out and his voice broke from the strain. He totally forgot he had his mouth full of his own red jockey pants. His butthole felt raw, wet, and broken. The man started to punch his penis into him harder and harder, causing young Peter’s body to jerk forward each time the man stabbed his cock deep. It had been 5 minutes since he first penetrated the boy scout, to Peter, it seemed like an enternity. Despite the generous coating of vascline, it was an exertion to slide his cock in and out of the boy. He was sweating, his chest making the boy’s back damp with his persperiation. The man, now that he had opened the boy up, began to fuck the kid in ernest. He strived to stuff the boy with as much of his tube steak as possible. He jammed his hips down, spearing his cock deep in the warm, tight hole. He was able to slide another inch into the boy, bottoming out at 4.5 inches. He still thrusted as if he could force even more of his thick into the skinny boy.
Peter’s face was flushed, his lips pulled back in a grimace. The tendons in his neck popped out as he cried, delirious with the severe constipating pain. If felt white hot, a burning, as if the man were jabbing a red hot iron poker in his ass. He could feel the snake shaped penis push deep, squashing at the end of his rectum. The man was thrusting so deep that the breathe was knocked out of him, all Peter could manage was “Ug..ow...ug...ow...ow...”. The man grunted on top of him, spittle hitting Peter on the cheek but he didn’t notice, he was consumed by the terrible stretching. Peter had never imagined something hurting so bad. Each inward thrust made his asshole even more raw, it hurt more. The fit between the man’s thick penis and Peter’s boyishly small asshole was so tight that when the man pulled back, it lifted Peter’s hips off the pillow, only the be shoved back down as the man stabbed his penis deep into him. The man sped up even faster, rabbit punching his cock into the boy scout’s violated ass.
Outside, unknown to the man and the boy, another scout master was just finishing having a piss in the woods when he heard a boy gasp out, as if he were in intense pain. He decided to investigate, when he got near Peter’s tent, it became much easier to hear. He heard a man grunting, at the same time a high pitched gasp of pain, he heard the sound of flesh slapping flesh, a wet squishy plunging sound. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out one of the other guys was screwing one of the boy scouts. He wouldn’t interrupt, it was a private moment. And he would never soil the name of his troop by letting it out a boy scout was being molested by one of the adult chaperones. He could understand why a man would be attracted to Peter’s little bubble butt. He had seen the boy in just his speedo’s during a pool party and had to admit the boy was just asking to be molested, especially wearing colored underwear. Only wimpy boys wore colored underwear. Colored underwear was a child molesters magnet. He walked back to his tent and forced himself to forget what he had heard.
Back in the tent, the man, after 10 minutes, began to long dick Peter, pulling back so only his cockhead remained in the boy, sliding 4 inches in, his leg muscles and back muscles in sync as he fucked the boy. Peter was exhausted, he lost his voice, he could only whimper as the large hot penis harpooned in and out of his stretched, torn anus. This went on for another 5 minutes until the man began moaning louder, speeding up his thursts, slamming down into the boy with all his strength as he became lost in ectasy. The man got faster and faster, stronger and stronger, until he pushed his penis as deep as he could and held, arching his back.
“Ah...ah...ah....Ahhhhhh”... and Peter felt a spreading wetness as the man’s thick penis jerked in his stretched anus. He felt the pulses of come shoot out of the man’s dick and splash the walls of his rectum. Having swallowed a dozen loads, Peter knew the man was impregnating him with his adult sperm. It meant it would be over soon. The man’s body was heavy on his back and Peter whimpered as the penis seemed to spasm deep in his anus. The man always had large loads and Peter knew his ass was full because it dripped out around the man’s cock. Peter’s ass felt very sore. The man rested on him another 5 minutes, letting his spent cock go limp in the boy’s quivering asshole. Then he pulled his hips back, it seemed endless long as the thick penis pulled out of his butthole, which spasmed. Peter welped out loud as the thick cockhead stretched his sphincter as it pulled out with an audible pop. Peter’s asshole felt wet, burning hot, and as wide as the moon. He had anal cramps and his stomache felt nauseous. He laid there, unmoving, ravaged, weak as the man dressed himself, the took Peter’s underwear from his mouth, smoothed them out, and pulled them up Peter’s legs. Peter farted a ward of come into his briefs, and they became soaked as he rolled over into the fetal position, crying and sobbing, sniffling, as more come dripped out of his raped asshole. The whole back of his red briefs became sticky. The man smiled, he had given the young boy scout a buttfucking he would never forget. Peter’s tent smelled of sex, the bleachy smell of semen. Peter’s anus opened and shut for a few minutes before it realized he was no longer being fucked. The scout master left, whistling happily, and covered in sweat. Peter’s ass had felt so very tight and he was a happy man. Peter covered himself with his sleeping bag, still crying because of the very severe hollow ache in his ass. He would cry for an before he drifted to sleep.
