There are four English junior schools in our
Mediterranean country.  The ties between them are
pretty loose, but they do have a tradition of summer

Three of the schools have arrangements with suitable
campsites throughout the country, and every summer
three camps are held.  One is by the sea, one is in
the mountains and the third is on the grounds of a
farm.  They are available for pupils in Years Five and
Six, the top two years.

In Year Five I was ten years old and eager to go.  I
would be away from home for eight days, the first time
I had been away for more than a weekend.  Having been
brought up to be independent, I was not concerned
about being away from home.

I most wanted to go to the camp by the sea, and was
very frustrated to find that it was already full by
the time I got my parents to send in my application. 
My girlfriend of that time, Saskia, whom who will
remember from other stories (such as ‘The Temptress’),
managed to get in, and we were both devastated to find
we would be separated.  I have always wondered what
she did to the unsuspecting boys at the seaside camp. 
She never would tell me, and whatever happened it was
secretive enough not to get into the newspapers.

Another friend of mine who has appeared in my stories
before was Ernst, the hero of ‘Mr Sausage Man’.  He
was a German boy whose parents were here on contract,
a year older than myself, and proud possessor of the
largest penis I have ever seen on a preteen boy.  He
was normally a quiet, mild-mannered boy who gave the
impression of being laid-back or even dopey, but he
did have a very unpredictable temper when roused.

Ernst had been even later than myself with his
application form, as he came from a notoriously
forgetful family, and we decided that if we couldn’t
go to the sea, we would try the farm camp.  The
mountains were generally more popular with the
children from our school, but I had been there on
holiday the previous year, and Ernst was very willing
to come along with me to the farm.

We almost didn’t make it as a pair, as I got my
amended application form in the following morning, but
it was another week before Ernst and his parents
between them remembered.  Fortunately he just managed
to get in on time.  Only a few of the others from our
school were going.  The majority of campers, it
seemed, would be coming from the wealthy school at
Tremontos, on the sea coast, whose pupils would be
looking for something different.

We were due to depart from outside the city railway
station at eleven o’clock on Monday.  That allowed
time for the children from the three other schools to
catch morning trains into the capital.  We were to
meet them at the station, and from there travel by bus
to the campsite.

My Aunt Sue was to take me to the station, as my
parents were both working.  At my urging, she arranged
to pick Ernst up at his house, because I knew how
negligent his parents were and was afraid they would
forget.  I was not surprised to have to enter the
house to collect him, and found him wandering around
dreamily, trying to find his swimming costume.

It was a wonder to all of us at school how Ernst
actually managed to fit his most prized possession
into a swimming costume.  One of his favourite tricks
was to wipe his penis on his navel, so by all the laws
of science, so we claimed, it should not have fitted
into a normal swimming costume.  The suggestion was
that the only way it would fit would be for him to
pull his penis down under his crotch and stick it up
the back, or else to tie it round his waist.  These
could cause problems should he have an erection,
though.  Some bright spark suggested a new invention,
a swimming costume with a sleeve.

We arrived in time, despite the delay with Ernst. 
Each camp was run by two or three teachers, helped by
several high-school prefects, who were each in charge
of a tent of eight children.  There were to be four
boys’ tents and four girls’ tents.  As we arrived, the
boy prefects were busy loading all the luggage on to
the bus.

Most of the other children were strangers to me, with
only a handful from our school, and none I knew well. 
Two I did recognise, although I had never met them
before, were the acting twins Mickey and Maxi, who
went to Tremontos.  They were too snooty to travel up
by train, having come in one of the family’s posh
cars, but at least the organisers of the camp had
insisted they travel the last leg by bus with the rest
of us.

Two years earlier, these twins had taken part in a
major local film about an English millionaire whose
grandchildren were kidnapped.  The twins became famous
overnight, especially among the country’s
English-speaking community, and there were often items
in our English newspaper about them.  They were both
very good-looking and photogenic.  Mickey had blond
curly hair tumbling over his forehead and big bright
blue eyes with long lashes and a smooth tanned skin,
the sort of face girls fall in love with immediately. 
Maxi was similar in looks, although less tanned, and
with big pouting lips.  Both were quite small in size,
though Maxi was slightly dumpy around the hips, and
this no doubt encouraged adults and prefects to think
how cute they were.

Unfortunately they had both let their fame go to their
heads – or else had been allowed to.  Both were
bubbling over with confidence, and my first sight of
them both was to see them strutting around in public
view, smiling and chatting, especially with the
prefects, just to make sure everybody knew they were
there.  Since they were so well known, the leaders
spoiled them rotten.  There was even a photographer
from the local paper on the spot for them, and a
number of adults demeaning themselves by asking for
their autographs.  Mickey, as I soon discovered,
always expected to get his own way, while Maxi was
convinced she was charming enough always to get what
she wanted with a big smile and coquettish ways. 
There was something about her very similar to Saskia.

They had, we discovered, brought an inordinate amount
of luggage.  Both were dressed up in what I suppose
they would call ‘smart casual’.  Mickey was wearing
immaculate shorts and an open-neck shirt, while Maxi
had on a tight slinky black miniskirt and a frilly
white top that was low at the neck and slightly
transparent, no doubt just to make sure that anybody
interested knew that she was wearing a bra.

The camp leaders were a couple from Tremontos who were
not married but engaged.  It was perhaps a mistake to
entrust the leadership to two who were still too
wrapped up in each other.  We did not see too much of
them during the camp, as they took a very hands-off
approach – although it may well have been hands-on as
far as each other were concerned.  When they did
appear, it was the woman who did most of the work,
while the man went around cheerfully with rather a
goofy grin on his face.

Though there were few organisational errors, it did
mean that we had rather a shortage of organised
activity on camp and we were able to get up to all
sorts of things that normally wouldn’t have been
allowed.  It was maybe fortunate for all of us that
there was no major scandal and the things that did
happen didn’t get out too far.  Helping them was our
own Miss Winrow, our physical education teacher.

At least they made a good impression to start with,
gathering us around, quietening us down and then
checking off all the names.  Aunt Sue had said goodbye
and departed, pulling with her my cousin Shelley, then
aged five and in floods of tears because she couldn’t
come with me to camp.  That left only a few local
parents to see their children off.

As soon as our names were called, we were allowed to
board the bus.  They called the Tremontos names first,
Mickey and Maxi first of all no doubt as a tribute to
their fame, and that school accounted for almost 40 of
the 64 places on camp.  The film twins mounted the
steps of the bus like royalty, waving to all and
sundry.  As usual, most of the boys made a scramble
for the back of the bus when we got on, where any
misbehaviour would be less likely to be observed.

Then another school was called before ours, so we were
the third of four.  Ernst and I boarded the bus,
hoping we could find a seat together.  As we pushed
our way down the aisle through tight masses of
children we didn’t know, I did notice Maxi sitting
next to the aisle, chatting to a friend with
exaggerated feminine gestures.  Her legs were
together, but inside that triangle formed by her legs
and her shirt, tight skirt, a shiny white
silky-looking pair of panties was easily visible.

We managed to find two seats together, just over
halfway to the back.  We hopped in and sat down in
silence, waiting for the journey to begin.  I remember
feeling very vulnerable, though not homesick, as I sat
there next to Ernst, for some strange reason aware of
how thin my clothes were and feeling almost naked in a
place where one could not be naked.  I was, after all,
going into the unknown.  It was a comfort to look at
Ernst next to me, grinning his goofy grin and
seemingly unconcerned.  

Miss Winrow was in charge of the bus, helped by two
boy and two girl prefects.  The leaders and the other
prefects would be travelling separately in a kombi
laded with provisions, as I don’t think there would
have been room on the bus for them as well.  There
were not many goodbyes and fewer cheers as the bus
finally got under way, remarkably on time, as most of
the children had already left their parents behind at
their own home towns.

Most of the boys at the back, coming from Tremontos,
knew each other well and were soon fooling around,
laughing and shouting, and waving and yelling out of
the windows at people on the streets.  One of the male
prefects went to the back to join them, which helped a
little in preventing them from going completely over
the top.  Ernst and I, knowing few of the others, sat
mostly in silence.  I had a look around, as far as I
could see, for some girls who might prove interesting.

Two seats in front of us and across the aisle was a
small, dark-haired girl who attracted me, despite the
tomboy behaviour and clothing.  She had on a rather
scruffy T-shirt and a pair of white jogging shorts. 
She obviously had two friends sitting in the seats in
front of her, because at regular intervals she would
stand up and lean right over the back of that seat to
talk to them.  She was wearing pink panties under the
jogging shorts, which were not opaque, and so whenever
she bent over the seat in front they showed clearly
through the white material.

The second time she did it, the girl across the aisle
for her, like many girls concerned for another’s
dignity but only too happy to place herself in a
superior position, leaned forward and mouthed some
words at her.  Lip-reading and detective work with
hindsight interpreted it for me as, “Tessa, your

Tessa took no notice, if she heard, and kept leaning
forward to talk to her friends in front.  The other
girl learned further forward and gave her a light slap
on the bottom, repeating that awful message.

Tessa did not turn round, but made a little go-away
gesture behind her with her hand.  The boys behind her
were watching what was going on.  With big grins on
their faces, they called out loudly, “Tessa, your
panties!”  Other boys joined in.

This made Tessa turn round, face reddened.  They all
shouted at her again and she looked down at herself,
saw nothing wrong, sat down quickly and turned her
head away, confused as to what was going on.  With a
satisfied smile, the girl opposite leaned forward and,
pointing at Tessa’s shorts with her hands, outlined
the problem.  I could see Tessa looking rather
uncertain, shocked and vulnerable.  Even then, signs
of vulnerability in a girl attracted me, but I liked
the looks of Tessa anyway.

Within ten minutes, though, Tessa had forgotten
herself and was leaning forward again, the pink of her
panties showing through the all-too-thin material of
her shorts.  This time the boys behind saw it first. 
They turned to the rest of us, pointing and calling,
“Look!”  Then they turned and called out loudly,
“Tessa, your panties!”  Others joined in from all over
the back, and I heard Ernst calling out as well with
his silly grin, “Tessa, your panties.”

I looked around for the boy prefect, hoping he would
put a stop to this, but he was just grinning and
letting the incident run its course.  Tessa was
sitting down again hurriedly, looking confused and
embarrassed, but trying to keep her face away from her

The mockery started up again and I had had enough.  I
stood up and yelled at all the boys in the back to be
quiet.  They were shocked into silence, except for one
boy, a very big Year Six boy.  “Don’t you tell us what
to do!” he shouted back at me, leaving his seat and
coming up the aisle to hit me.

I stood up.  He swung his fist and missed.  I hit him
on the jaw so hard that he flew right to the back on
the bus, landing hard right on top of his friends, who
had been laughing at me.  This shocked all the other
boys into silence.

Tessa was watching all this in wonder.  I turned and
smiled at her.  “Don’t worry, Tessa, I’ll look after
you,” I assured her.  She give me a timid smile, and
then left her seat and came over to me, arms
outstretched.  There was no room for her next to me,
as Ernst was sitting there, so I took her on my lap,
and she sat there for the rest of the journey, telling
me how strong I was, while I told her how lovely she
was.  Nobody ever dared tease her again, because they
knew they would have to answer to me if they did so.

Well, it was such an enjoyable fantasy and it kept me
going for a long time on the bus.  What a pity it
never happened.

In between times, I checked out the four prefects on
the bus with us.  There was Kevin, who was head boy at
the high school, good-looking and helping to take a
quiet leadership role.  Already the girls were
interested in him and the boys were admiring him. 
There was Trevor, who was now at the back of the bus,
friendly, but I was angry with him for not protecting
Tessa from the boys’ mockery.

There was Lisa, a tall girl who seemed quite elegant
and self-possessed.  She had dark brown
shoulder-length hair and I thought she was
nice-looking without being really pretty.  She wore
miniskirts, but had the ability to keep them under
control without seeming at all paranoid about it.  I
found myself respecting her, and had quite a shock
late that afternoon when I saw her drop a book, forget
herself for a second as she bent down to pick it up,
and reveal rather dull, threadbare light blue panties
at the back.  I would have expected better of her,
something more elegant, and I felt disappointed for
the rest of the day.  She seemed like an idol fallen
from her pedestal.

Then there was Wendy, who was quite a beauty.  She had
wavy golden hair and beautiful blue eyes, and always
seemed to be happy and laughing.  The girls loved to
talk to her and the boys were forever showing off in
front of her.  I admired her and did a bit of showing
off as well during the camp.

The farm where we were having our camp was less than a
hundred kilometres away, but it was a huge bus and the
road there was narrow and winding.  First of all we
had to plough through the city’s busy industrial
sites, which in itself took more than half an hour. 
So we were looking in the end at a journey of more
than two hours.  It was very hot at this time of year,
and the air conditioning was poor.  Occasionally
somebody farted, and that would cause a major
incident.  Soon we were feeling hot and sweaty, and
the boys in particular became more noisy and

We had travelled for perhaps an hour and a half when
the bus slowed down and pulled into a large lay-by. 
Many of the children thought we were there and they
cheered excitedly, grabbing for their bags.  It took
Miss Winrow quite a while to calm everybody down

“No, we haven’t arrived, but we are just stopping here
for lunch, as I told you when we started,” she said. 
“We have packed lunches and more drink for you.  Now
when I point to your rows, I want you to stand up and
leave the bus quietly . . .”

Outside there was a small oasis in the rather arid
hilly landscape.  Several shady trees hung over about
six picnic tables, two of which were occupied by
fellow motorists and their passengers.  Needless to
say, when they saw us arrive and start disembarking,
it took them less than five minutes to make themselves

Miss Winrow started letting us off the bus carefully,
one row at a time.  I quickly saw that those at the
front would be able to take all the picnic tables
while we at the back would probably have to sit on the

The first girls off the bus did what comes naturally
to girls and headed in a group for the toilets, a
small ramshackle building near the hedge at the back. 
I turned my attention back to Tessa.  Would I be able
somehow accidentally to get to sit near her?  I must
watch where she goes.

As she stood in the aisle and pushed her way forward,
I had a careful look at her jogging shorts.  When she
was standing straight, it was just possible to see her
pink panties through them if one looked carefully.  It
was just when she leaned forward and tightened the
seat that they became very visible.  But that didn’t
stop some of the boys calling out in silly mocking
voices, “Tessa, your panties.”

I could tell from the tension in her body that she
heard them, but she didn’t turn round.  I was sitting
next to the window, though, and saw as soon as she was
out of the bus that she did turn her head sharply and
stare at her bottom, to try and see if there really
was a problem.  But from that angle she probably saw
nothing untoward.

She headed for the toilets as well with her friends,
but other girls were coming back.  They formed a group
and headed back for the bus, just as Ernst and I were
called to disembark.

“Miss Winrow, we can’t use the toilets,” I heard their
spokesgirl protest, disgust written all over her face.
 “They smell so *terrible* we can’t even go in!  And
there are flies everywhere!”

This was just the sort of situation that Miss Winrow
preferred to avoid.  Fortunately for her, Kevin was at
hand.  “I’ll check them out with Lisa,” he said,
heading off with her in that direction.  Not that he
really needed to, because boys as well as girls were
now visibly getting within five metres of the toilets
and then turning and heading back, many waving their
hands in front of their faces.  I suppose it should
have been predictable, as public toilets in our
country, where found, are the nearest things we have
to chemical warfare or toxic waste sites.  Ernst and I
hung around, also wanting to go to the toilet but also
curious as to what would happen.

Kevin and Lisa were quickly back, confirming that the
toilets were indeed a total disaster area.  Kevin
seemed to sense Miss Winrow’s unwillingness to get
involved, as he suggested, “I think they’ll have to go
behind the hedge.  Lisa, if you take the girls first,
then I can take the boys . . .”

“No, no, you take the boys first,” insisted Lisa, also
rather embarrassed by the situation.

Kevin shrugged and agreed.  Most of the boys were
still on the bus or just outside it, so he called out,
“Look, guys, if you want to use the toilet, these ones
here are too bad to use.  Just come with me and we’ll
sort something out.”

Most of us boys waited with him until everybody had
left the bus.  The driver, a local man, climbed out of
the cab and Kevin spoke to him, no doubt asking about
toilets.  He just waved his hand casually towards the
hedge and set off in that direction himself.

“Come, guys,” said Kevin, and we followed him.

The girls were watching curiously rather than rudely. 
As usual with girls, there were some who sniggered
when they realised where we were going and some who
were either uninterested or too embarrassed, who would
rather sit out the bus ride with legs tightly crossed.
 I looked for Tessa, and she seemed to be one of the
uninterested ones.

Some of the boys, of course, had to show off, and a
couple of them called out comments in silly voices
such as, “We’re going for a wee-wee, are you coming?”
and pretended to shake their penises or walk with
their hands clutched to their bladders as if they were
going to burst.  I moved away from Ernst as he joined
in, not wanting to be associated with him at that
moment.  Most girls treated this with the contempt it

The hedge was perhaps 20 metres behind the tables
where the girls were sitting, having bagged their
places, and quite thick.  When we reached the other
side we stared at it, afraid they might be able to see
us, and could see the colours of the girls’ clothing
but no detail.  “Don’t worry, they can’t see you,”
Kevin grinned.

Most of the countryside behind us was pretty barren,
scrubby grassland with nobody in sight.  Most of the
boys were rather shy about urinating in the open and,
like the dog with its lamppost, seemed at a loss
without a tree or a bush to use.  Probably most of
them still urinated in a bush beside the road when
necessary, but this was a different situation.  I
think I was the first to step towards a shallow sort
of ditch into the ground, pull out my penis and start
urinating with my back to the girls.

The others then followed, with about 30 of us standing
there urinating or awaiting a turn.  I glanced around,
curious about the penises of people I was just meeting
for the first time.  Next to me was Ernst.

Ernst had become very proud of what I think he
considered to be his only real asset or talent, and
was always ready to put on a show.  With his usual
goofy grin, and looking round to see if he could
attract some attention, he confidently unbuttoned his
old-fashioned shorts and pulled them down.  Like most
of the others, I always reached inside my trouser leg
to pull out my penis, but since Ernst’s shorts were
tighter and his equipment so outsized, it was a
physical impossibility.

His next step was to lower his harsh German underpants
at the front and pull out his penis.  Even now, still
not quite 11 years old, it was rapidly approaching 20
centimetres in length – larger than most men and
horrific on a boy only just beginning puberty - and
was still growing.  It was thick, too, but still
drooped in a broad curve when he pointed it outwards
to use on official business.

Many boys that age are still not conscious of each
other’s genitals, and also many were too nervous at
urinating in the open to concentrate on anything else.
 But I did notice the boy on the far side of Ernst,
when he had finished his own business, glancing across
at Ernst and doing a double-take.  I almost burst out
laughing at the size of his eyes.

It was always amusing to see people’s first reactions
when introduced to Ernst’s penis.  Many went into
denial, and couldn’t believe it was real.  This boy
stared again, then giggled, and nudged the boy next to
him rather hard, almost causing him to shoot astray as
he was still busy.  I’m sure Ernst was very happily
aware of what was going on as they both stared in
fascination at the alien object before them.

Ernst, with his bladder now empty, made rather a show
of shaking his penis dry, and the extra movement, and
possibly the wind it caused, made another couple of
boys have a look.  One gave a whoop of stifled
laughter, and there was a murmur from others.  Ernst
let it all hang out as long as he reasonably could to
attract interest, and then tucked it away again, with
a goofy self-conscious grin on his face.  His
underpants as well as his shorts had higher waists
than normal, but I think this was more the choice of
his mother for him rather than a conscious effort to
accommodate his burgeoning natural resource.

As we walked back to the tables where Lisa and Wendy
were setting out the lunch packs, I noticed the boys
concerned were in a group behind us, whispering with a
mixture of awe and amusement.  Ernst I was sure was
aware of it.  He was about to become a folk hero
again, the biggest gun in the west, even if he
couldn’t help being slow on the draw.  Holsters
weren’t made for weapons that size.

When Kevin returned with the last of the boys, Lisa
called the girls for their turn.  I saw Tessa join the
group and wished I could accompany her, but I couldn’t
even catch her eye.  Again some of the boys could not
let the girls go in peace.

“We’ve left a pool for you at the bottom of the
ditch,” one boy called out, and “We know where you’re
going,” some of them began to chant.  At this point
Kevin walked over towards them and didn’t need to say
anything.  They respected him and kept quiet.

Seconds later the girls ran back screaming because
there was a family of snakes there now.  I called out
that I knew how to handle snakes, and picked up a big
stick that happened to be nearby.  I went round the
hedge with the stick and saw the snakes, and two of
them immediately attacked me.  I was almost bitten,
but courageously fought them both and killed them. 
There were two more snakes still alive and watching
from a safe distance.  I knew that if I left they
would come back, but the girls needed the toilet, and
Lisa decided it would be safer if I stayed to protect

Some of the girls were worried about having to urinate
with me there, but I smiled at them and reassured them
that it didn’t matter.  So they came round the hedge
again and Tessa was next to me, telling me how much
she admired my courage with the snakes.  She very
willingly pulled her shorts and pink panties down to
urinate and all the other girls were thus emboldened
to do likewise . . . my fantasises grew wilder and

Back in the real world, boys were giggling and trying
to spy on the girls through the hedge.  With Kevin
there, they did not dare do more than that, and from
our position near the tables we could only see moving
coloured clothing anyway, without any detail.  Kevin
also stopped us from vacating the tables left vacant
by the girls, which caused a few quiet grumbles.  I
had hoped to find a place on the grass next to Tessa’s
table, but she had been at one of the inside tables
and we had to sit on the outside.

There were about eight girls who did not go with the
others, and I wondered if they had large bladders or
whether they were taking a gamble on keeping their
legs crossed until reaching camp before they burst.  I
wondered if Lisa and Wendy would be lowering their
panties along with the girls.  I had been so concerned
with Ernst’s debut on the world stage that I hadn’t
noticed whether Kevin or Trevor had joined the boys.

The girls came back all together, in one large group,
no doubt as greater protection against the jeers of
some of the boys.  As they appeared, Kevin wisely
began to hand out lunch packs so as to distract the
vociferous ones.

Lunch proceeded with most of the girls at the tables
and most of the boys on the grass, a type of sex
discrimination that we did not appreciate, although it
happened by accident rather than deliberately.  Not
all the boys, though.  The prefects Kevin and Trevor
had admiring little girls calling them to share seats
so they could sit with them, and I also saw Mickey
grinning and chattering away with a group of
starry-eyed little fans.

I saw Tessa eating and talking with her friends, and I
wished with almost physical pain that she would invite
me to share her seat with me.  But so far, despite my
daydreams, I hadn’t even done anything to get her to
notice me at all.  What could I do to attract her
attention?  If I were Ernst, or most other boys of my
own age, I would have found something really romantic
to kick off the relationship, like putting a beetle
down the back of her neck and laughing when she

But I had always suspected there might be more
effective ways of winning a lady’s heart.  Girls are
strange creatures, and few have the wisdom to
appreciate that the beetle down the neck or the
yanking of ponytails are merely the opening shots of
an elaborate time-honoured preteen male courting
ritual.  The problem was in finding those more
effective ways.  Good manners I knew by now were a
start, but they didn’t make the same initial impact as
the beetle down the neck.  Something quicker, like
saving her life, should do the trick.  I was off on
another fantasy . . .

Ernst was grinning next to me.  “Look at Wendy,” he
said, pointing.

I had no idea what he was talking about.  Wendy,
wearing a rather old-fashioned floral dress, was
sitting not far away from us, facing in our direction,
smiling and laughing with a group of girls.  I could
see nothing strange in that.

“Her panties, stupid,” grinned Ernst, pointing.  I
looked under the table rather than on top of it. 
Wendy’s legs were well apart and a broad strip of
white panties presented themselves to our lustful
gaze.  It was my first view of many during the camp. 
Wendy wore longer skirts than Lisa, but had clearly
never had to endure a paranoid mother telling her to
‘sit like a lady’.  She didn’t know how, and was far
more careless with her skirts than most of the girls
my own age.  It was a naivety that I fell in love

Ernst kept giggling and goggling, and I felt annoyed
with his lack of restraint.  I moved back slightly in
case he started drooling from the mouth and told him,
“For goodness’ sake, Ernst, don’t say anything or tell
anybody else.  I’ve told you before, if you let them
know they stop doing it.”

Ernst grinned and grunted, rather frustrated in his
generous desire to share his simple pleasures with
others.  But he understood my reasoning.  We both sat
there in silence, enjoying the unaccustomed view of
soft, white, feminine prefect panties.  My admiration
for Wendy grew.  I started drawing her into my
fantasies.  After all, if you save one girl from being
mauled by a rabid wildcat, you might as well save
another as well.  Anything Superman could do, Roy
could do better.  Even if she was years older than
myself, she was still beautiful, feminine and very
vulnerable with her legs apart.  Hoping nobody was
watching, I put one hand down to give my penis more

While we were still eating, some of the other boys
came up to us.  “Hey, what’s your name?” they asked
Ernst.  Then they sniggered and said, “Brian says you
have a great big chop.  He saw you pissing with it.”

Ernst shrugged, affecting modesty.  He knew how to
string them along.  “So what?” he asked.

They gathered tightly around him in a group.  “Show
us,” they urged him.

Ernst had the sense to look around.  There were girls
and prefects quite close by.  They might find
themselves involved in the action without wanting to
be, and that would spoil Ernst’s show.  “Can’t do it
now,” he shrugged.

The other boys must have realised this was true, but
with their silly sense of humour they kept trying to
persuade him and made rude jokes about it.  I took no
notice, as I had suddenly discovered that sitting on
the grass was an excellent vantage point for
investigating the underwear of other girls besides
Wendy.  Quite a number of the Tremontos girls were
wearing shorts of some kind, though, and I was to
discover that English-speaking people from that area
generally are more ‘modern’ and liberal than those of
us from elsewhere, as it is a cosmopolitan seaport and
a tourist centre that can be rather wild at times. 
Those unsightly blue jeans are rarely worn in our
country, I’m glad to say, mainly because of the
temperature, except in winter.

“Where does it reach up to?” one of the boys was
asking Ernst, eyes alight with scientific curiosity. 
Graciously Ernst put his hand up and indicated the top
of his shorts, which were just under his belly button.
 There were gasps of awe from his admirers.  They kept
asking questions, trying to find out its history,
where it had been and what it had done.  Ernst
appeared wearily taciturn, but I knew that underneath
he was delighted with the attention he was receiving. 
More boys were joining the group all the time, but
when Kevin came over to see what was happening, they
sniggered and melted away.

As we climbed on the bus I tried to edge closer to
Tessa, but annoyingly she was on the far side with her
friends and I couldn’t get across without making
people wonder what I was doing.  Wendy was nearby,
though, chatting to a bunch of girls, and as I stood
there for a moment watching, she glanced up, caught my
eye and smiled at me.  I went red from shock, and by
the time I had pulled myself together enough to smile
back, her eyes were elsewhere again.  I cursed myself
for making such a mess of it.

Tessa was already climbing on to the bus, and I tried
to get on behind Wendy, but there were too many girls
in the way.  Instead I had a rather plump Tremontos
girl in front of me in a short pair of shorts, short
enough to show the crease under her buttocks at the
back.  They were baggy, though, and as she reached the
top of the steps I could just see the lace-edged hem
of her panties inside.

We had been instructed to keep to our original seats,
so I passed right next to Tessa on my way.  I felt my
cheeks were red, but prepared myself to smile at her –
if I could find the courage.  Unfortunately she was
looking inside her little bag for something and I had
no chance.  I wondered if I could accidentally on
purpose brush my arm against hers as I went past, but
at the last moment I chickened out.

No sooner were we on our way again than the boys
around us began to clamour round Ernst again, and
Trevor reluctantly did his duty and told them to stay
in their seats.  They leaned over towards us, though,
and urged Ernst to satisfy their curiosity now that
the girls would not be able to see him.

Grinning, Ernst slipped a hand up his shorts, but it
was a tight fit, and he assured them that his penis
would not come out that way.  “Come on, try,” they
kept urging him.  “All right, pull your shorts down,
then.  Nobody can see you.”  By ‘nobody’, they
presumably meant only girls and prefects.

Ernst joked with them, and then suddenly said, “I
can’t do it now, but I’ll give you something else for
now.”  He leaned over to one side and produced one of
his favourite party tricks, a long loud fart.

There were shrieks of laughter from all the boys round
us, who quickly moved back and sat down, wafting the
air from their noses and cackling with obscene
laughter.  I felt most embarrassed, in between choking
for breath in that confined area.  I was used to
Ernst’s routine by now, and it had never really amused
me anyway.  I had to sit there next to him and pretend
nothing had happened and I was not involved, never an
easy task for a ten-year-old.  Fortunately it was not
a particularly smelly one and I was sitting next to
the open window, so I did not have that to contend
with as well.

The girls all swung round to see what all the noise
was about – the noise made by the other boys, that is,
as the explosion itself had not been quite that loud. 
They were quick to assess the situation, and in
typical female fashion made their disgust quite clear,
and their opinion of boys in general.  I saw Tessa
swing her head round and ducked my head out of the
way, hoping this time she would not see me in this
situation when I would so much rather be saving her
life.  When I glanced back, she had her face forward
and like me was trying to ignore what was happening.

“Come on, what’s going on there?” came Kevin’s voice
from the front.  This quietened things down somewhat,
but there was still a lot of sniggering and requests
for Ernst to perform a repeat.  He shook his head, and
I suspect it was more because he was rather in awe of
Kevin than for any other reason.

It was well after one o’clock when we finally arrived
at the farm.  We were very hot and rather irritable as
well by then.  We didn’t see the farmhouse itself, but
the bus drew to a halt at the end of a dirt track,
almost in between two groups of tents.  Just on the
far side of the tents was a large area of
exciting-looking rocks we could climb.

The camp leaders had already arrived and were waiting
for us.  We climbed off the bus and stood next to it
awaiting instructions.  I managed to stand about two
metres away from Tessa, hoping for some excuse to say
something or for her to look at me so I could smile –
if that was physically possible when I was so nervous.

Miss Tate (later to be dubbed ‘Miss-take’ by
disrespectful boys) from Tremontos took charge,
introducing the leaders and giving us basic rules. 
She explained that the camp area was rather in the
shape of a diamond.  On one side were the boys’ tents
and on the other the girls’.  Between the two, near
where we were standing now, was the dining area, with
a cooking area nearby.

At the top were the toilets and showers, but the bad
news was that they were about a hundred metres away. 
This was apparently for sanitary reasons.  I sincerely
hoped they did not smell like the toilets at our lunch
spot, or a hundred metres might not be enough.  As it
turned out, they were perfectly clean.  At the bottom
of the diamond were the rocks and beyond them the
games area.  We had already driven past a large rough
field, and were now told this was the games area.

Fortunately the people who organised the camp were
realists and knew that it was expecting a bit much for
children to walk a hundred metres every time they
wanted to go to the toilet.  We were expected to use
them to defecate, though Miss Tate did not say so. 
But for ordinary urination, some trenches had been dug
for latrines just beyond our tents.  The girls, I
learned later, had three narrow trenches for that
purpose, with a cloth screen around.  Boys got lesser
treatment, just one big hole in the ground and no
screen.  They were all treated with disinfectant three
times a day.

Then Miss Tate read from a list the names of all the
campers and the tents we were in.  There was one
prefect in charge of each tent.  Ernst and I were in
Tent Three, with Lloyd, one of the prefects who had
travelled by kombi.  I was slightly apprehensive to
learn that Mickey was in the same tent.  Tessa, I
noticed, was in girls’ Tent Seven, with Lisa the
prefect in charge.

While she was doing this, the boy prefects had been
unloading the bus.  When they had finished, Miss Tate
instructed the girls, tent by tent, to collect their
luggage and take it to their tent with their leader. 
Tents Five and Six collected theirs and departed.  I
watched as Tent Seven collected theirs.

Tessa had quite a big backpack to carry, rather than a
suitcase, and I saw her struggle to hoist it on her
back to carry it that way.  After two failed attempts,
I plucked up all my courage.  The other boys were too
busy talking or acting the fool in a quiet way to
notice me.  I walked nervously over to Tessa.

“Let me do it,” I said, trying gamely to force a
charming, nonchalant smile as I took the backpack from
her.  She looked startled, but didn’t protest.

I was just hoisting it on to my own shoulders when
Lisa came over and took hold of it, pulling it gently
off my back.  “Thank you, but you’re not allowed to go
to the girls’ tents, you know,” she smiled kindly at
me.  “Let me take it.  Come, Tessa.”

Tessa went quietly with her without even looking at
me.  I felt like bursting into tears.  My big chance
with Tessa, destroyed through petty officialdom!  And
Tessa hadn’t even smiled at me, she had hardly looked
at me!  I was rejected.  It never occurred to me that
the other party might be just as shy and nervous of
boys as I was of girls, and I had also taken her by
surprise.  I just saw my fantasies shattered.

I slunk back to the other boys, devastated.  I think
only Ernst had noticed me go, and I was grateful he
was not the sort to ask awkward questions, though he
sometimes did snigger quietly.  His caveman mentality
could never understand anything about courtesy to the
opposite sex.  The girls finished collecting their
luggage, and then the boys had their turn.  Most of
the luggage had gone by the time they reached Tent
Three.  Ernst and I, along with six other boys
including Mickey, collected our luggage.

Mickey had brought about three times as much luggage
as the rest of us.  We were supposed to bring only
bedrolls, with the matting provided for us, but Mickey
had to bring an entire luxury camp bed.  “Hey, can you
give me a hand with these?” he peremptorily demanded
of Lloyd, our tent leader.  Lloyd, a stocky, thickset
boy with dark hair, readily agreed.  Like most of the
other leaders, he seemed to see the acting twins as
superior beings.

Lloyd led us to our tent.  The ends had been opened to
allow a slight breeze to blow through.  We went inside
and set out our beds on the matting.  I found a place
in the far corner, and Ernst settled in next to me. 
Lloyd was not a talkative person, and most of the
chattering came from Mickey, who had two friends, or
fans, with him from school.  They seemed to agree with
everything he said and laughed whenever he tried to be
funny.  Ernst and I felt pretty shy in this tent with
nobody else we knew.

We had been told that this was siesta time, that once
we had unpacked we would rest until three o’clock when
we would meet for afternoon activities.  We expected
Lloyd would be there with us and answer our questions
about the camp and help us feel at home.  But, after
unpacking his luggage, Lloyd simply got us lying down
on our bedrolls and said, “Okay, guys, I’ll be back in
a few minutes.”  Then he walked out and left us.

He was to do this regularly during camp.  We didn’t
see much of him.  It did not take any detective work
to find out why.  One of the girl prefects who had
also travelled in the convoy, Tara, was his
girlfriend.  Her tent saw very little of her, either,
and nor did anybody else.  As I said earlier, the
supervision on this camp was not great.

Mickey, although the smallest in the tent, dominated. 
“It’s shit hot in here,” he announced in his rather
high voice.  He whipped off his expensive shirt and
shorts, standing there wearing silky-looking blue and
white underpants, also very opulent-looking.  Then he
flung himself back on his luxury camp bed, a level
above the rest of us, who had our beds on the matting.
 Immediately his two followers did likewise.

I was nothing loath to follow suit, feeling as hot as
anybody.  In fact, all of us stripped down to our
underpants and flopped back on our bedrolls, hot and
sticky.  Ernst stood out, though, in his high-waisted
underpants with their huge bulge at the front.

One of the other boys looked at Ernst and giggled.  He
addressed Mickey, also apparently looking up to him as
a superior being and wanting to win his approval. 
“Hey, Mickey, did you see this guy’s knob where we all
had a piss at lunchtime?” he asked him with a grin. 
“It’s huge, I swear!”

Mickey’s face lit up.  He looked so cute, with his
curly blond hair, his big blue eyes, his sweet smile
and his smooth beautifully tanned face.  But his
beauty was only skin-deep.  “Hey, that’s right,” he
grinned.  “And you were the guy who did that fart on
the bus.  What’s your name?”

Ernst told him, grinning proudly and no doubt
expecting to improve upon his hero status.  But we
soon found Mickey didn’t like rivals.

“Come on, stick out your knob and let’s all have a
look at it,” Mickey ordered him.

Happy to oblige, Ernst arched his back, lifted his
bottom and pulled his underpants down to his thighs. 
His penis popped out, in all its glory.  Ernst let it
lie there, gently curved, pointing towards his toes. 
The boys rose from their beds and gathered round,
gazing at it in awe, in much the same way I suppose
that a crowd of sightseers would stare at a whale
stranded on the beach.

“Gee, it’s big!” exclaimed one of them, in awe and
reverence.  “How did you grow it so big?”

“Manure,” chipped in Mickey.  “He wipes his bottom
with it every day and that makes it grow.”  He went
off into peals of rude laughter, and his two faithful
followers joined in, joined by the other boys.  Ernst
grinned sheepishly, but he wasn’t too happy about that

“He’s a Martian,” announced Mickey, showing off
shamelessly.  “He has three legs, like all Martians,
and that’s his middle leg.  Hey, Ernst, do you wear a
sock on it in bed?”  Again there was loud, stupid
laughter from the others.

“Hey, he’s got hair!” exclaimed one of the other boys,
pointing.  This made Ernst grin again.  He had indeed
reached puberty early, and there was a little patch of
brown pubic hair at the bottom of his loins.

I don’t think Mickey liked this.  He took off his
underpants and strutted proudly up and down the path
we had made along the middle of the tent, waggling his
penis.  “Here, my boys, is a cock any girl would
willingly die for,” he boasted, showing off his
attributes.  “This is real beauty.”

One might have expected a tiny, cute penis from such a
small boy, but in fact Mickey’s penis was longer than
mine.  It was quite thin, smooth and pink, bulging
slightly near the end where his prepuce was, and
ending in a neat little round white spout as his
foreskin hung over the end.  It sat on top of his
little wrinkled pink testicles, and I suppose an
impartial observer might have thought that, except for
being larger than might have been expected, it was as
cute as the rest of him.  Or perhaps I should say
‘ignorant’ observer.  There was nothing cute about the
rest of him, as we were to discover.  Mickey waggled
it up and down proudly.

“Come on, guys, it’s show time,” he announced gaily. 
“Everybody – undies off and let’s have a look at what
you’ve got.”

Obligingly his two followers removed their underpants
to reveal their own penises.  I wasn’t very happy
about the mocking way in which things were going, but
I had had worse from Saskia.  Being basically a
peaceful person, though, and by now used to naturism,
I removed my underpants without any qualms, as did two
of the other three boys in the tent.

“Oh, very good,” approved Mickey, wiggling his penis
up and down with his fingers as he inspected us all
and apparently decided his was the best.

“Hey, Mickey, do you still have your bath with Maxi?”
grinned one of the other boys teasingly.

This was a reference to the film involving the twins,
which probably all of us had seen.  Continental films,
unlike British or American ones, have no qualms about
showing naked children, and really the scene involving
the twins was very mild.  They were shown in the bath
together, just from the chest upwards, and then there
was a brief scene of them being dried by their rich
grandfather’s maids afterwards.  Maxi had the towel
covering her from the hips downward, so there was
nothing exciting there, while Mickey was shown
side-on.  As the maid was drying him, something could
be seen for a brief moment bobbing up and down, but it
was not a clear view of his penis at all and nobody
could have described it accurately from that scene.

“Oh, yes,” grinned Mickey proudly, understanding the
connection.  “But we’ve grown up now, since we made
the film.  So we play different games in the bath.”

“What sort of games?” one of them naturally wanted to

Dramatically Mickey gave a half-smile, raised his
eyebrows and put his head on one side.  He chuckled. 
“That would be telling,” he said slyly.

“Hey, Mickey, does she have any boobies yet?” another
boy asked.

Mickey again gave his superior half-smile.  “That’s
for me to know and for you to find out,” he replied
cunningly.  “Why don’t you ask her?  I’m sure if you
do little things for her she’ll oblige.  She likes a
bit of attention, I can tell you.”

“Ernst can stick his cock up her,” suggested one of
the boys rudely.

“If Ernst sticks that bloody great thing up any girl,
she’d burst,” giggled Mickey.  He was clearly one of
those boys who deliberately swears at times to show

“Hey, Ernst, make it stiff, let’s see how big it will
grow,” another boy encouraged him.

Ernst was only too happy to oblige, pleased to be the
centre of admiring attention again.  He took his penis
in one hand and waved it ridiculously up and down. 
Slowly it began to stiffen, but I knew that actually,
when the original was so big, any further enlargement
when stiff was hardly noticeable.

The boys gathered round again, though, to watch the
show.  I kept out of it, feeling mildly disgusted.  My
experiences with Ernst and Saskia had given me enough
pornography to last a lifetime, and since then all
kinds of obscene behaviour with genitals have turned
me right off.

Mickey was also not happy about losing his accustomed
position as centre of attention.  “That’s a big ugly
chop,” he stated.  “He’ll frighten all the girls off
with that, I can tell you.  Now here is a cock that
will bring them all running.”  He showed his own penis
off again.

But none of the others were paying any attention. 
Ernst’s penis was now totally stiff and pointing to
his chin.

“It’s just like the tent pole!” laughed one boy, and
the others all joined in, trying to outdo each other
for sick humour.  “Let’s see you wiggle it,” demanded
one, and they all screamed with laughter as Ernst,
without hands, slowly wiggled his stiff penis up and

Suddenly there was a girl’s voice close by outside. 
It sounded very nervous as she called out, “Hello, may
we come in?”

The boys shrieked in mock fear and shot back to their
beds, grabbing items of clothing to cover themselves. 
There was a loose corner right by my bed, so I lifted
it and peeped outside.  Two nervous-looking girls were
standing there, looking at our tent.  I only had a
quick glimpse, as they both looked down and I pulled
the canvas back into place before they saw me
properly.  I did notice that one of them had a piece
of paper in her hand.

“Two girls,” I hissed.  “I think they’ve got a

Mickey giggled.  “Look, boys, this is what we do,” he
whispered.  He took his underpants and placed them
over his penis, so they just covered his genitals and
nothing else.  “Come on,” he urged us, grinning
wickedly.  Then he lay back and folded his arms behind
his head, his whole body open to view except for that
tiny area on which he had placed his underpants.

“Hello, please may we come in?” came the nervous
female voice again from outside.

“Wait a minute,” Mickey called back, as we all did the
same, leaving back with our underpants covering only
that tiny area, most of them giggling as they did so.

“All right, you can come now,” laughed Mickey.

The girls came around nervously from the side of the
tent and looked inside the open doorway.  Then they
screamed and jumped back again, looking shocked.

“It’s all right, we’ve got our wee-wees covered,”
Mickey assured them in a deceptively kind tone of
voice.  “Come in.  How can we help you?”

The girls came closer again, very nervously.  Their
eyes darted round the tent and looked at all our naked
bodies, with just one censored area.  One gave a gasp,
the other stifled a giggle.  Then the one who gasped
said, “We – have to give a message to Lloyd.” 
Presumably they had in those circumstances been able
to break the rule about no visiting the tents of the
opposite sex.

“He’s in the shithouse,” one boy told her rudely.  He
was on the other side of Ernst, and the girls looked
at him uncertainly.

Looking in that direction also drew their attention to
Ernst.  One of them gave a gasp of horror, and then
the other saw it too.  Ernst was lying on his back
with his goofy grin on his face and arms behind his
head.  Untouched by human hand, his underpants were
slowly moving up and down as he wiggled his penis

Both girls gave stifled screams and fled, cheeks
bright red.  The boys burst into rude, mocking
laughter.  I did not join in.  I felt very bad that
Ernst first and then the others should so humiliate
and embarrass two girls who were nervous and
vulnerable to start with.  But I was not brave enough
to say so.

Ernst was a hero to most of the boys.  They threw off
their underpants and told him how well he had done,
getting the girls running so easily.

But I could tell Mickey was not pleased.  He liked to
be the centre of attention himself.  “Oh, sure, that
was just rude,” he gave his opinion.

“It was so funny,” grinned one of his mates, showing a
mind of his own for a change.

Mickey felt unable to pick on Ernst at that moment, so
he chose somebody else.  There was one boy, a large
plump kid from one of the other schools, who had said
nothing ever since we had entered the tent.  No doubt
he was feeling lost, as there were no others from his
school in our tent.  He was lying quietly in the
opposite corner of the tent from myself.  He had taken
off his shorts with the rest of us, but had not
removed his underpants.  I later found out his name
was Brett.

“Hey, come on, you,” ordered Mickey, kicking his
bedroll.  “Take off your undies and show your cock
like the rest of us.”  He stood there over him, a
tyrannical little boy bullying a shy one nearly twice
his size.  And Mickey, of course, had his two faithful
followers to back him up.

Brett tried to slink further into his corner and lay
there, cowering.  “Leave me,” he pleaded.

“No, you do what the rest of us are doing,” ordered
Mickey arrogantly.  “Come on, take them off.”

“No – o,” whimpered Brett, as if Mickey had ordered
him to run naked through the whole camp.

“Do as you’re told, Fatty, otherwise we’ll make you,”
snapped Mickey, prodding him with his foot.  Brett
gave a groan and rolled over on his side, head turned
from Mickey.

I still feel ashamed that I just let things happen and
didn’t step in right away to defend Brett.  But I was
too much of a coward, like everybody else a bit
intimidated by such a famous boy, and afraid he might
turn with his friends on me – though I think Ernst
would have stood with me.  But it is those with no
friends who are the most vulnerable.

“Come on, guys, we need to get his undies off him,”
said Mickey, turning to call over his two followers as
he stood there, cute blue eyes bright and his long
smooth penis sticking out.  Immediately his followers
were by his side.

“You hold him while I pull his undies off,” instructed
Mickey, reaching down towards Brett’s crotch.  Seeing
no danger in the helpless fat boy, his friends reached
down and grasped Brett by the arms and legs.

Brett had no idea how to defend himself.  He kicked
helplessly, but was clearly also scared of having them
hurt him.  “No, no, leave me!” he wailed as the
followers pinned him down on his bedroll and Mickey
grappled with his underpants, laughing nastily all the

I watched in disgust, but also in cowardice, as Mickey
dragged off Brett’s white underpants, revealing a
sallow, podgy bottom.  He tossed them over his
shoulder.  “Now let’s see what you look like
underneath,” he crowed as his friends rolled Brett on
to his back.

He and his friends burst into screeching, scornful
laughter.  “Look at it!  He’s hardly got a cock at
all!” jeered Mickey.  “He looks like a little girlie! 
He’s a freak!”  From my position all I could see were
Brett’s legs and rounded bottom, all podgy and white.

Mickey danced naked around the centre of the tent,
crowing with delight.  “He’s a freak!” he declared
triumphantly.  “What a tent we’ve got!  We’ve got a
freak and a mutant!”  And with the mutant jibe, he
made his fatal mistake by pointing at Ernst.

Ernst had been lying there silently all the time, but
I had recognised the signs and knew he was angry at
Mickey’s earlier ridicule.  Ernst almost always looked
so laidback and even dopey, but I knew Mickey was
playing with a sleeping volcano.

A second later, perhaps inevitably, Mickey went too
far, perhaps too eager to establish his superiority
over the boy who had taken his place at the centre of
the spotlight a couple of minutes earlier.  “A
mutant!” he repeated, jeering at Ernst.  “The
three-legged mutant from Mars!”

Ernst’s face suddenly went white with fury.  With a
mouthful of English obscenities, picked up very
skilfully during his time with us, though not from me,
he leapt to his feet.  Mickey, startled, sprang back. 
His two followers, completely surprised by the
transformation of Ernst into a raging madman, backed
away immediately.  Telling Mickey in undiplomatic and
unprintable language what he was going to do to him,
Ernst swung his fist wildly in Mickey’s direction.

I think he just caught Mickey a glancing blow on the
shoulder.  Mickey let out a scream and dived for the
tent door, disappearing outside still stark naked. 
Ernst jumped after him but stopped just inside the
door, penis bobbing wildly, still white with fury. 
Then, just as quickly, he let out a deep breath and
returned to his bedroll, still smouldering.

There was a moment’s fearful silence inside the tent. 
Mickey’s followers were gazing with big eyes at Ernst,
afraid of his anger and obviously had no intention of
defending their leader’s honour at that point.  The
other boys were also staring, not knowing what to do.

Neither did I, but in the circumstances I think I did
the right thing.  I gave out a laugh, pointed outside
and said, trying to mimic Mickey’s mocking tones,
“Look at Mickey!  He’s so scared!”

Mickey was standing there in an open space among the
tents about ten metres away, white and naked, visibly
shocked and staring in our direction to make sure
Ernst was no longer chasing him.  The noise, of
course, had attracted attention.  Boys were staring
out of other tents and chattering noisily, while the
prefects were telling them to stay inside.  Mickey
affected a laugh, as if it were all in fun,
instinctively clutched his penis with one hand, and
came back to the tent, trying to strut, but his eyes
were very wary, just in case Ernst was still in
waiting for him.

He came inside, even more afraid of the staring eyes
outside than the rest of us inside.  A quick glance
told him that Ernst was lying back on his bedroll,
looking dopey again.  Mickey squatted on his bed,
breathing heavily, and immediately started putting on
his underpants.  There were, after all, fewer refuges
for the naked.

I saw Brett’s cast-off underpants lying next to
Mickey’s bed.  I rose and went over to pick them up. 
As I did so, Mickey looked up sharply and fearfully,
cringing for a moment as if I were going to attack
him.  I stared at him scornfully, no longer overawed. 
I picked up Brett’s underpants and tossed them to him,
a bit scared of showing more kindness as I should have
done.  Brett’s face was wet with tears, but he grabbed
his underpants and quickly put them on.  For the first
time I was able to see a tiny round penis between his
legs, though his plumpness no doubt made it look
smaller than it really was.

“Why didn’t you pricks *help* me?” hissed Mickey
furiously at his two followers as he finished
struggling into his underpants.  Then suddenly his
face crumpled and he burst into tears.  He couldn’t
even do that quietly, as Brett had done, but wailed
loudly and heart-wrenchingly.

The rest of us didn’t know what to do, but I knew that
Mickey was making such a noise that somebody would be
on the scene pretty quickly.  I thought it wise to
slip into my underpants.  I think Ernst was now pretty
scared at what he had done, and he did the same,
putting his prime exhibit back under cover.  The other
boys took their cue and scrambled for their

Moments later Kevin appeared in the doorway opposite
me.  “What’s going on here?” he demanded, with a voice
of authority.

Mickey continued to howl, while the other boys stood
as if dumbfounded.  Kevin repeated his question, this
time with a bit of anger.  Finally I decided it was
time I took some responsibility, and also if I didn’t
Ernst might find himself in trouble.  Mickey might
tell all sorts of lies about him and be believed. 
“Can I – come and tell you?” I asked shakily.  Kevin

On my way across, through a silent group of boys
seething with embarrassment, I grabbed Brett by the
arm and told him to come as well.  Face still wet,
Brett meekly came.

Kevin led us to one side and told the other boys
firmly to stay inside their tents.  Naturally they all
watched in avid curiosity, but they stayed inside. 
Kevin asked first where Lloyd was, and perhaps
unwisely I tried to cover for him by saying I thought
he had gone to the toilet.  Then Kevin demanded our
names, and then my story.

I tried to put all the blame on Mickey, where it
really belonged, without trying to sound hateful about
it because I knew the awe in which Mickey was held and
didn’t want them to believe whatever he told them
instead of me.  I didn’t want it to sound too
pornographic, either, so I left out all references to
Ernst’s prime asset.

I just told Kevin that we were lying there in our
underpants because of the heat, and Mickey for fun
wanted us all to take them off so we were naked.  Then
he started picking on Brett, who didn’t like that
idea, and with his two followers pulled off Brett’s
underpants, and then started making fun of Ernst.  At
this point Kevin looked at Brett, who was staring at
him fearfully but nodded in confirmation.

I didn’t give details, but did mention the
‘three-legged mutant from Mars’ insult on top of all
the others.  At this Ernst got so angry he chased
Mickey out of the tent, pretending he was going to hit
him, and that was why Mickey had been out there naked.
 Then Mickey had come back inside and cried.

Kevin listened, and then wisely called for the boys
from the neutral school to give their version, sending
me inside.  Mickey had stopped howling now and simply
sat with his head down, sniffing.  His two followers
looked like total spare parts.  Ernst looked very
white with fear.  I told him what I had told Kevin, so
he could corroborate it and know to put over his story
without venturing into the shady world of porn.

Shortly afterwards Kevin called Ernst to give
evidence, and Ernst returned with a weak smile, which
showed he seemed to think he had done all right.  Then
Kevin called for Mickey, who put on a very woebegone
expression and holding his supposedly injured
shoulder, no doubt hoping for sympathy.  Kevin’s final
verdict was awaited with some trepidation by all of

We never found out exactly what happened, as he was
some time with Mickey.  During that time Lloyd
returned and joined them outside.  But I assumed Kevin
accepted our story because the three of them returned
together, with Mickey expressionless instead of
triumphant.  I don’t know his excuse to Kevin, but
after getting to know him better, I’m sure he
explained his behaviour by pleading, “I was just
having fun,” and claimed Ernst had hit him.

Kevin called me and the three neutral boys outside
with Lloyd and asked if Ernst had hit Mickey.  We all
agreed, more or less, that we weren’t sure but he
might just have winged him, which was true, and I
added that if he had hit Mickey, there should be a
bruise, but there wasn’t.  Kevin nodded.

Then we returned inside, and Kevin gave us a quiet
talk together, telling us that it was not acceptable
to tease people or strip them off or hit them, and
that if there was any of that taking place, he would
fix them.  He looked tough, we were in awe of him and
we nodded meekly.

He was just finishing off when the bell rang for the
end of siesta and the start of afternoon activities. 
Kevin grinned at us.  The telling-off was over.  “Come
on, guys, and enjoy the camp,” he told us.  I decided
I wanted to grow up like Kevin.

(To be continued)


We gathered at the meeting place in the centre of the
camp, chattering and excited.  My tentmates and I were
bombarded with questions from other boys as to what
had happened with Mickey, and I tried to tell them,
amid numerous interruptions, an even more expurgated
story I had told Kevin, leaving out the ‘three-legged’
part or any oblique reference to Ernst’s penis –
though other boys were more graphic.  Many boys seemed
almost stunned to discover that such a celebrity as
Mickey should turn out to be a mere human being like
themselves and behave in such a way.  The whole
incident was causing tremendous excitement.

Now he was back on the public stage, Mickey did a
remarkable metamorphosis from miserable caterpillar to
bubbling butterfly.  Suddenly his lovely cute smile
and charming manner were back, and he headed straight
over to the girls, where his fans greeted him with

No doubt he chose his company deliberately, because
all the boys were aware of his humiliation a few
minutes earlier, but as yet they had not been able to
pass on the news to the girls.  In any case, girls
would be more likely to be sympathetic towards him and
disbelieve any stories to his disadvantage, as long as
he kept smiling and laughing with them.  He had every
intention of doing so, it seemed.

The boys had automatically gathered on their side of
the meeting place and the girls on the other.  Mickey
was totally in the girls’ half, laughing and joking
and chattering in his high-pitched voice as if nothing
had happened.  There was some overlap between the two
groups as some boys who felt able to communicate with
sisters or girls they knew were excitedly informing
them of the latest news.

I edged closer to the girls as well, not to share any
information but to look for Tessa, whom I had actually
forgotten for a brief while.  I finally spotted her
with her two friends on the outskirts of the throng
around Mickey.  Tessa seemed fairly passive but the
other two seemed excited about something and were
chattering away with others.  It was easy to guess the
subject of the conversation.

I stood there watching Tessa, perhaps too closely. 
One of her friends suddenly looked across and saw me. 
Our eyes met, and I immediately looked away in
embarrassment.  When I glanced back I saw her hurrying
over towards me.  My heart fluttered wildly.  She was
going to tell me she had seen me watching Tessa and
ask me if I liked her!  How would I answer?  I felt
terrified.  I had been spotted doing the unthinkable
for a ten-year-old!

“Hey, what really happened to Mickey?” she burst out
as she came up to me.  Her name was Kirsty, I was soon
to find out.  “Some of the girls say – well, the boys
told them – he was in a fight?”

I was taken aback.  “Well – sort of,” I said.  I tried
to gather my thoughts.  I looked at Kirsty.  She had
wavy auburn hair across her forehead with an untidy
ponytail down the back, brown eyes and a rather
freckled face.  She wasn’t a great beauty but she did
somehow look quite attractive.  She was wearing a dark
blue dress with a white collar.  The thought flashed
through my mind that perhaps one way to reach Tessa
would be by befriending one of her friends.

“Well, what did happen?” Kirsty demanded, unashamedly

I forced a smile at her, trying to pretend I was
interested in her.  I was a bit afraid that if my
story was too much anti-Mickey, it might turn her off
me.  “Well, we were – lying down for the siesta and
Lloyd was out of the tent,” I told her.  “Then Mickey
had – er – an argument with my friend Ernst and
another boy, and he called them rude names.  Ernst got
mad and he chased Mickey and Mickey ran away because
he thought Ernst was going to hit him.  But it wasn’t
really a fight.”

Kirsty grinned nervously and licked her lips as she
prepared to ask her next question.  Behind her I could
see the third girl and Tessa – Tessa! – staring
towards us.  Tessa was looking at me!  I began to go
red.  Then I saw Kirsty starting at me with a strange
smile twitching at her lips.  She thought I was in
love with her!

Well, I know now that was an exaggeration, but at that
moment and that age it was my immediate thought.  My
first reaction was no, I must show her that I wasn’t,
at all costs!  My second reaction was, well, maybe I
can play her alone a bit and take advantage of it so
as to get an opening to Tessa.

Believing I was interested in her gave Kirsty
confidence.  She smiled and asked, in a softer tone of
voice, “Some of the girls are saying – they say some
boys told them – that Mickey was naked?  And the other
boy had . . .”  She gave a nervous giggle but kept
looking at me, confident that I was interested in her
and very nervous about it, because I kept glancing
over her shoulder towards Tessa and blushing slightly.
 “. . . He had – a big thing?”

Thoughts were still spinning wildly round my head as I
had a split second to work out the best way to take
advantage of Kirsty’s misapprehension.  “Well, er –
look, it – it’s rather private,” I told her.  I tried
to say more, but I didn’t know what, so it was a good
thing she gave me a moment’s respite by pleading with
me.  Then I knew what I wanted to say.  “Look, I can
tell you, but it’s rather complicated as well, so I
can’t do it now.  But I can tell you in private
sometime.  Just you and – and both your friends. 
What’s your name?”

We shared names, and she mentioned her friends were
Susan and Tessa.  I acted as if I didn’t know either
of them.  Susan was a rather plump, plain girl in a
small sundress.  Susan was still watching us, but
Tessa, to my disappointment, was looking around more
generally.  I had been afraid that Kirsty, whom I was
sure thought I was in love with her, might insist on
meeting me alone, but in those days I didn’t realise
how much girls need to do things in at least twos,
especially in new situations and in particularly
traumatic circumstances such as when going to the

Kirsty smiled at me and said confidently now, “Thanks,
Roy.  We must find some time when you can tell me.” 
Suddenly her knees gave a convulsive jerk, she gave a
giggle with her hand to her mouth and then fluttered
back to her friends.  Not for the first time, I
couldn’t understand girls.  I saw her talking
animatedly to the others, with Susan constantly
glancing towards me but Tessa showing less interest. 
I felt disappointed.  With the self-centred thinking
of a ten-year-old, I was thinking their interest, or
lack of it, was in me, when really it was centred on
the situation concerning Mickey.

By now Miss Tate was blowing her whistle to get
everybody’s attention and check we were all there. 
The leaders handed out drinks and biscuits to us all. 
Miss Tate told us we would have half an hour’s free
time to explore the campsite, and told us the
boundaries to keep within.  This included the rocks
and also a little stream that flowed down the hill
nearby, both of which we boys were longing to explore.
 After half an hour she would blow her whistle again,
and we could choose either to carry on exploring or to
go to the field and play some friendly sports.  They
offered four: football, volleyball, basketball and

I should add at this point that it is quite normal in
our English culture in this country for girls to join
in boys’ sports.  Some of them play them quite well
and there are not many girls who would refuse to play
altogether, as I understand is the case in some
countries.  So it was not thought strange to offer
these sports on camp for boys and girls to play

By now Ernst had found me again, and as soon as Miss
Tate said we could go, he grabbed me excitedly by the
arm and we took off at a sprint for the rocks, along
with many of the other boys and some of the girls.  I
had been planning to hang around and see if Kirsty
would suggest a secret rendezvous – with Tessa
included, of course – but Ernst gave me no chance, and
I didn’t want to protest for fear of revealing the
fact that I was meeting up with girls.  Already.  I
was at least glad Ernst preferred the rocks, as it was
closer and I would be more likely to encounter the

The rocks were pretty exciting for children who liked
climbing.  They were quite high and some of them
needed a bit of skill to climb, but they were not
really dangerous and on the whole of camp we had
nothing more than scrapes or bumps in the way of
injuries there.  There must have been about 50 of us
in that area to start with, running in and among the
rocks, climbing them, climbing the trees that grew in
between them and making a terrific noise.

On my way I twice tried to look back to see where the
three girls were, but had lost them in the crowd.  I
thought I would just have to put our plans for a
meeting on hold until a better time.  I didn’t as yet
appreciate the power of gossip among girls.

Once we were among the rocks, though, I quickly lost
myself in this new adventure.  Like all the other
boys, I wanted to show off my climbing skills, and we
vied with each other to be the first to climb a new
rock or to get higher than anybody else or to be ‘king
of the castle’ and push down everybody else trying to
climb our own particular rock.

Some of the prefects came with us, and we admired the
way the boy prefects, especially Kevin, accomplished
with ease the things we younger ones were struggling
to do.  And I have an abiding memory of looking up to
see Wendy standing with some younger girls who were
with her on a flat rock just above my head.  She had
her back to me and a gentle breeze was blowing and
making her dress flap at the back.  In an awesome
moment I could see all of her soft white panties at
the back, and up further past her bare skin all the
way up to her bra.  Then she moved forward out of my
line of sight, and the vision was gone.

I spent the next half-hour exploring and having fun on
the rocks with others, almost forgetting about Tessa,
though I did catch one glimpse of her and her friends
playing on the rocks.  But they were not looking at me
and there was no reasonable chance of our getting
together for our gossip session.

It was not until we heard the long, loud whistle for
optional games that I stopped and thought about what I
should do and where the girls might be now.  Suddenly
the urge to get to know Tessa came back and took
charge of my immediate need to make a decision. 
Should I stay among the rocks or go down to games?

Most of the other boys, still shouting and full of
energy despite the heat, decided on games.  “Come on,
Roy!” Ernst encouraged me, sprinting with the others
back towards camp.  I started off, but then stopped. 
Perhaps I should wait there a few minutes to see if
the girls were around, and if not then I would go and
join the games.  After all, if I went to the games
first and found I was wrong, it would be harder to
change my plans.

As it turned out I was right.  The place seemed
suddenly quiet now, although there were a few
children, mostly boys, scrambling around on the rocks
and one or two others, mostly girls, sitting mostly in
the shade beside rocks talking.  But there was no sign
of Tessa and her friends.

I wandered around looking for them by myself, though
pretending I was still exploring by myself.  I climbed
to the top of the highest rock, where I could see
right across the camp and down to the field.  I found
I could also see three or four small figures standing
around the hole that was the boys’ latrine.  I
realised that any girl standing where I was would be
able to see what I was seeing.  It was close enough to
recognise, just, who the boys were and what activity
they were engaged in, but not to see any detail. 
Unless it was Ernst . . .

Glancing over to the girls’ side, I soon discovered
their latrine was hidden behind their screen.  It was
also partly obscured by an annoying tree, but in any
case I found that even from my altitude I could only
see the participants’ heads when they were standing
upright – and, of course, when they were actively
involved they would squat down as girls do so I
couldn’t even see their heads.

Deciding the three girls – well, one in particular – I
was interested in must have gone down for games, I
climbed down and began to make my way back to camp.

As I was leaving the rocky area, I thought I could
just catch somebody calling my name, in what sounded
like a girl’s voice.  Puzzled, I looked around
quickly, saw nobody and kept walking.  “Roy!” it came
again, louder.  This time I stopped and looked more
carefully, but again could hear nothing.

I had just turned round again when I definitely heard
a giggly voice call, “Roy!  Over here!”  Three words
instead of one were enough to make me think it sounded
like Kirsty, but I had no idea where it was coming
from, unless it was the middle of a rock.  Feeling
foolish, I stood there and stared around, but apart
from a couple of girls on one side talking together
and taking no notice of me, there was nobody in sight
at all.

I was about to give up when suddenly a big but rather
scrawny bush between two large rocks started waving
about, and Kirsty’s head popped out, at about
knee-level.  I was so astonished and bewildered that I
almost let out a yell.

Kirsty’s face started laughing at me.  “In here, Roy,”
she called.  Then she hissed secretively, “It’s a
secret cave!”

That explained it.  I walked over and saw that the two
rocks actually overlapped behind the bush, and down at
ground level there was a large hidden fissure, large
enough for children to get their bodies through. 
Susan’s grinning head appeared through the gap, just
below Kirsty’s.  I hoped Tessa was there too.

They were both laughing at my confusion.  Kirsty
looked around to make sure nobody else could see them
and then told me, “Come inside.”  The heads

I squatted and peered into the hole.  After the
dazzling sunlight, I could hardly see a thing.  I
couldn’t even tell how many people were inside or
where I would put my feet.  Carefully I pushed my way
behind the bush.  There was a small dusty-looking rock
and I sat on it.  Then I put my legs into the hole,
one by one, and lowered myself in.

“You’ve got white underpants,” giggled Susan, hand to
mouth, as I lowered my head inside.

“It doesn’t matter,” I shrugged, looking around.  At
first I could see very little, but then I could make
out three figures.  Kirsty and Susan were standing in
front of me, and behind them was a figure sitting on
the ground with her knees up.  Yes, it was Tessa. 
“Hello, Tessa,” I greeted her, trying to force a
smile, which is very difficult when you feel very shy.

“Oh, you know Tessa?” asked Kirsty, as Tessa gave me a
muffled reply.  “Of course, it’s from the bus. 
Everyone was shouting out, ‘Tessa, your panties.’”

“*I* wasn’t,” I protested, unable to see in the dark
how Tessa was responding.  “They were just - stupid
people.  But I didn’t do it.”

“Come on, Roy, sit down and you can tell us about
Mickey,” invited Kirsty, and there was a giggle from

“When I can see properly,” I replied, sitting down
anyway.  I put my knees up, knowing I was probably
showing them my underpants again.

Once my eyes got used to it, it was not really dark
inside at all.  After a minute or so I could see them
all quite clearly.  The ‘cave’ was about three metres
long and just over a metre wide on the whole, and just
high enough to stand up in before the two great rocks
on either side of us met.  It was much cooler inside,
as well.  At the far side there was a long narrow gap
between the rocks that let in most of the light.  The
floor was dry and dusty, with nothing growing there
except a few tiny emaciated ferns.

Next to me on one side was Kirsty, sitting with her
legs crossed.  Opposite me on the left was Tessa, one
leg tucked under her, the other with the knee up.  On
the right was Susan, sitting with her knees under her
chin and arms wrapped round them.  They were slightly
apart and, since she was wearing a dress, I could see
a thin vertical slice of her white cotton panties and
up her skirt as far as her belly button.  They bulged
quite tightly between her legs, the effect of a large
pubic mound.

“Come on, Roy, tell us about Mickey,” urged Kirsty
eagerly.  “And about Ernst.  The true story.”

“Well, look, it must be a secret,” I mumbled.  “You
must promise not to tell anybody else.”

Kirsty and Susan nodded their heads vigorously, and
then Kirsty looked across to Tessa.  “Come on, Tessa,
promise not to tell.”

“Of course I won’t,” retorted Tessa.  “I hope it isn’t
– bad.”

“Come on, Roy, tell us.  Right from the start,” said
Kirsty impatiently.

I started off by telling them how Lloyd left and we
all stripped off down to our underpants.  They
giggled.  “What were Mickey’s underpants like?” Susan
wanted to know.

“Blue and white, rather girlish,” I replied,
exaggerating slightly.  Then, feeling rather disloyal
to Ernst and naively swearing the girls to silence
again, I told how some of the boys had seen Ernst’s
penis when we were urinating behind the hedge at
lunchtime and had been impressed by its size.  Then
Mickey wanted to see it in the tent and Ernst showed
it to him.

Kirsty and Susan squealed with laughter, partly
through silliness and partly through embarrassment. 
But Tessa was the one I was watching, and I sensed she
didn’t like listening to this sort of thing.  She
didn’t giggle and she looked quite embarrassed.  But I
didn’t know what to do about it when I was here to
tell the story.

“How long is Ernst’s – thing?” giggled Susan,
spreading her legs wider and leaning forward with her
hand over her mouth.

“About – that long,” I replied, spreading my hands
but, afraid of embarrassing Tessa, making it a bit
shorter than in real life.  The other two girls
nevertheless squealed and giggled.

“What happened next?” demanded Kirsty excitedly.

I described how Mickey seemed to be jealous of Ernst’s
penis and the attention he was getting, and started
being rude about it.  When I reached the bit about how
Mickey took off his underpants and showed off his own
penis, Kirsty and Susan looked at each other, squealed
“Ooh!” long and shrill with hands to mouths, and
shuddered with giggles.

“How long is Mickey’s – wee?” breathed Kirsty, not
even trying to hide her fascination.  I was tempted to
hold out my hands like the fisherman showing the one
that got away, but instead gave a fairly accurate
estimate of its length.

The girls sucked in their breath.  “Ooh, he’s so
small.  I thought his wee-wee would be little and
cute,” said Susan.  “Like him.”

“He doesn’t behave cute,” I told them, going on to
tell how we all took off our underpants, except for
Brett.  I gave him a false name and didn’t mention he
was fat, so they wouldn’t be able to identify him.  I
didn’t mention the two girl visitors who came in and
fled, to the boys’ shameful laughter, at the strange
movements of Ernst’s underpants.  Instead I went
straight on to how Mickey and his two followers
stripped the boy and left him there in tears.

All three girls were appalled, no doubt thinking how
they would feel if they were stripped naked like this.
 Kirsty in particular found it difficult to believe
that Mickey could be so cruel.  Then I came to the
part about how the boys got Ernst to make his penis
stiff, and immediately wished I hadn’t.  Tessa stood
up, pulled at her shorts at the back to unstick her
panties from her bottom, and pushed past Kirsty to get
to the entrance.

“Hey, Tessa, where are you going, do you need a wee?”
asked Susan.

“I’m going to play games,” was all Tessa said. 
Without looking at me, she scrambled up through the
entrance and disappeared outside.  I felt shocked and
ashamed of what I had been saying, and very
disappointed that Tessa had gone and it was too late
for me to stop her.

The other two seemed taken aback for a moment, but
were too fascinated by my story to let it bother them
for long.  Kirsty was a bit squashed where she was, so
she moved over to take Tessa’s place.  I caught a
glimpse of what appeared to be white panties as she
sat down with her legs crossed.

They urged me to carry on.  Without Tessa, at least I
felt more free to tell of what Mickey said about Brett
and Ernst.  They were both amused and shocked in turn,
seemingly unable to make up their minds which was the
correct response.  They were more shocked when I told
them how Ernst lost his temper, only to squeal with
laughter, hands to faces, when I described how Mickey
fled outside naked in terror.

Kirsty had quite lost her inhibitions now.  She was
sitting with her knees up and legs apart, giving me an
even better view up her skirt than Susan.  She was
wearing those creamy flesh-coloured panties that at
first look as if they might almost be transparent, but
aren’t.  The soft material was embroidered into little
flowers and there was a neat edging of lace around the

Now she gave herself a quick scratch through the
crotch of her panties and whispered something in
Susan’s ear.  Susan’s eyes lit up and she nodded. 
Then Kirsty asked me eagerly, “Do you think – Mickey
would show us his – his thing?  Between his legs?” 
She dissolved into silly giggles, joined by Susan.

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him,” I told them.

They looked coy.  “Roy, we – we don’t know him
properly.  There are too many girls so we – won’t be
able to speak to him.  Not in private.  Do you – think
you could ask him for us?” asked Kirsty, looking at me
from the corner of her big brown eyes.

“It’s no use me asking him, he hates me,” I told them.

“But Roy, please – can you try?” begged Susan.  “He
might say yes – and he’ll look so cute – without his
clothes on!”  She dissolved into giggles, and they
both buried their faces in their knees as they giggled
in the silliest way.

That gave me a moment to do some thinking.  I would be
very jealous if Mickey got involved in a naked
show-session, which might well turn mutual, and I
would be left out.  I would have to think about that,
but in the meantime I fobbed off the girls and said,
“Well, I’ll try, but I don’t think he’ll listen to me.
 But you saw his – his penis in the film.”

“Oh, thank you, Roy,” they giggled.  “The film didn’t
show it – properly, though.  You could just see it –
like this.”  They looked at each other, made
bobbing-up-and-down motions with their hands and
giggled again, hands to faces as usual.  Then Kirsty
asked, “What happened to Mickey after that?”

I was just completing the part about Mickey’s final
humiliation when he burst into tears and howled, when
we heard a long blast of the whistle in the distance. 
The girls squealed and scrambled to their feet.  “Ooh,
they want us in the meeting place,” Kirsty said. 
“Roy, you must ask Mickey and tell us at supper.”

“I’ll try,” I agreed reluctantly.  “But remember,
don’t tell *anybody* about the things I’ve told you. 
You promised, it’s a secret.  And Mickey will never
agree to show you his penis if you tell the secrets
about him.”  Every mention I made of the word ‘penis’
seemed to cause giggling embarrassment, but I was too
obstinate to use the regular baby word.  Besides,
‘wee’ would be a highly inappropriate term for Ernst’s
appendage.  There was nothing ‘wee’ about it.

We scrambled out of the little cave and ran down
towards the meeting place.  I was rather annoyed at
the interruption.  I had been rather hoping that the
girls might decide that a bird in the hand (me) was
worth two in the bush (Mickey), and open negotiations
to look at my penis.  I would have responded in the
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” style, only
more subtle and dignified, and we might have been in
business.  I suppose there was something a little
attractive about Kirsty, though maybe not Susan, but I
would far rather it had been Tessa.  But at that age I
still found thrills in that sort of naughtiness.

I had a look out for Tessa at the meeting place.  She
was looking flushed and somewhat dirty, so she had
evidently been having a very energetic time.  She
didn’t look at me, but Kirsty and Susan went over to
her straight away, no doubt to tell her about what she
had been missing and their dreams of seeing Mickey
naked.  I wasn’t at all sure I could trust those two
to keep their mouths shut, even with my hint that it
might mess up negotiations with Mickey.

Miss Tate announced the next part of the day’s
programme.  Already it seemed to me that we had been
there for an age.  During the next half-hour the girls
were to have showers up in the ablutions block, while
the boys would have some more free time.  That brought
silly sniggers from a small number of boys.  After
half an hour, the boys would have their turn at the
showers.  Since the male and female showers were
separate, we could in theory all have had showers at
the same time, were there enough hot water from the
furnace, but perhaps the leaders thought that was too
risky for the girls to have the boys so close when
they were naked.

After showers, being clean, we would then walk almost
a kilometre to the farmhouse where we could use their
swimming pool.  That news brought a great deal of
approval.  We had two set times each day when we could
swim there, just before lunch and late afternoon. 
After that we would return for supper.

We had more drinks and the girls went off to their
tents to fetch their towels, soap, sponges, perfume,
body lotion, make-up, flea powder and whatever else
girls need to use when they have showers.  Some of us
boys had a discussion on our way down to the field
about how many items they would be taking, and we must
have come up with over 20, getting ruder all the time.
 Mickey suggested tampons, and was only too pleased to
explain to the uninitiated just what these were. 
There were veiled suggestions that we might be able to
spy on the girls taking showers, but apparently
someone had already checked it out and found the place

The prefects organized a quick game of rounders for
us.  Mickey was not very active in sports, preferring
to shout instructions and abuse from as close to the
sidelines as he could get.  I had time to think over
the girls’ request, and my plan to make Mickey reject
the request worked out much as I had hoped.

“Hey, Mickey, do you think you might do me a favour?”
I asked him, managing to catch him one moment when he
was by himself taking his sandals off.  After the
incident during the afternoon the other boys were less
desirous of his company than they had been before,
although the girls still mobbed him.

He stared at me.  “Bugger off,” he advised me,
scowling.  “Why should I do you a favour?”

I didn’t answer that, but said, “I’ve met two girls
and they like you and want me to ask you if you’ll
show them your penis.  So – it would really help me if
you’d agree.”

Mickey didn’t seem surprised or offended, but perhaps
flattered that they should want to see his penis. 
That was what I half-expected, and the reason why I
was emphasizing a favour to me to try to turn him
against the idea.

“Which girls?  Why would it help *you*?” he scowled at

“Kirsty and Susan.  You know, the one with freckles
and the fat one,” I said, again playing to put him
off.  He shook his head to say he didn’t know them. 
“And they – they’ve promised me a reward if you’ll
show them.”

“Well, they can come and ask me themselves if they
want to,” retorted Mickey in his shrill voice.  “But
don’t you come and think I’m going to do *you* any
favours so you can poke them afterwards.”  He turned
back to his sandals and I walked away, secretly

After half an hour the whistle blew and Kevin led us
back to the tents where we grabbed our towels and went
to the meeting place ready for our epic journey. 
While we waited for all the boys to arrive, we
speculated on how it would be totally impossible to
get 32 girls through the showers in just half an hour.
 I learned later from Kirsty that the girl prefects
kept telling them, “The boys are coming in 15
minutes,” “The boys are coming in 10 minutes,” and so
on, and this was sufficient motivation to have them
finished just in the nick of time!

Before we left, with the girls still not back, Kevin
gave us a quick talk.  “Listen, guys,” he said.  “I’ve
heard a few of you mocking the girls and teasing them
at times.  I think it’s really pretty cowardly to mock
girls who can’t answer you back.  So let’s have no
more of that, okay?”

We all solemnly nodded and agreed, because we all
admired Kevin so much.  Then he led us on the walk up
to the showers.

As we arrived, the girls were very hurriedly lining up
outside their half of the ablution block.  Quite a
number had towels around them with bare shoulders, and
in my ten-year-old world I wondered if they were naked
underneath, and if we would get to see anything.  I’m
sure other boys were wondering the same thing, but we
didn’t say anything because of our respect for Kevin. 
I did see one small girl adjusting her towel at the
front, and caught a quick glimpse of nothing but white
panties underneath.  Some were still wearing hairnets.
 It was a different world.

I wondered why they were not all fully clothed, but
found out later that this was because, unlike the
boys, they intended to change their clothes
afterwards.  From later experiences, I guess that the
towelled girls would wear at least panties underneath
but would not be likely to wear less than that with
boys present.  They would not expect their panties to
become visible, but wearing them, if nothing else, did
make them feel more secure.

I looked for Tessa and found her, fully clothed.  With
her were Kirsty and Susan, both with towels wrapped
tightly around them and bare shoulders.  Both raised a
hand and waved to me, with big smiles.  Tessa didn’t,
much to my disappointment.

“Were those the two girls you were talking about?” I
heard Mickey’s scornful voice behind me.  I nodded. 
“Couple of old hags,” was his comment, even more
scornfully.  I felt reasonably confident he wouldn’t
be involved in any Show-and-Don’t-Tell sessions with

We went inside the boys’ shower room.  There was a big
communal section of about 12 sprays along one side,
with toilets and a bathroom along the other.  Between
them were some bare boards where we could all put our
clothes.  Once we were all inside, Kevin shut the door
behind us.

We all undressed, some more quickly than others. 
Ernst and I were among the first, with Ernst no doubt
eager to display his talents on the world stage.  It
must have looked a strange sight were an outsider able
to see us, with 31 small boys with their small penises
bobbing about between their legs and a 32nd sporting
an adult-sized appendage.  Well, maybe that is a bit
of an exaggeration, as some of the other boys’ penises
were quite large, but Ernst’s was in a class of its

Of course the boys from other tents knew all about
Ernst’s talent by now and were eager to see for
themselves, although they were careful about it out of
respect for Kevin.  Looking over from my shower, next
to Ernst’s, I saw the leaders getting undressed to
shower as well.  I was quite shocked to see that Kevin
had in fact quite a small penis for one who was
virtually a man, though he had a clear mass of light
brown public hair above it.  Certainly Ernst’s was
much larger than his!

I had a check round at the other leaders.  Only Trevor
seemed to have a penis comparable to Ernst’s.  He had
a big convex penis that was darker in colour, in fact
just the same colour as a sausage.  As I checked them
out I saw Trevor and Lloyd, further across in the
showers, looking in Ernst’s direction and having a
good chuckle together.

Ernst was certainly the centre of attention – though I
must say that not all the boys were so interested. 
Some seemed shocked or slightly disgusted, and tried
to ignore it.  With his quiet, goofy grin on his face,
Ernst smiled at anybody else who met his eye and was
obviously enjoying it all.  He pulled his penis with
one hand and slid his hand up and down it to wash it
in the showers, and afterwards flapped it up and down
vigorously to dry it.  Many of the boys watched in awe
or amusement, or whispered to each other out of
Kevin’s hearing.

Mickey, despite his humiliation that afternoon, could
not resist trying to steal the limelight, and marched
up and down the place, laughing and showing off, with
his smooth handsome penis displayed to all.  I noticed
Brett in the far corner, naked but with his towel
dangling down to cover his penis, trying to pluck up
the courage to drop it and nip into the showers.  He
looked apprehensively at Mickey as he approached, but
Mickey was now playing it safe there and ignored him. 
I have always wished that I had gone over to Brett and
befriended him better, as I would have done when I was
a bit older, but at ten I was still too immature to
handle that sort of thing well.

There was actually another boy there, Ian, who was in
another tent and quite famous as one of the country’s
top tennis players.  He was very different from
Mickey, though.  He was tall and fairly good-looking,
with a wiry muscular boy and very well suntanned.  You
would have thought he would be well sought after by
the girls, but he was actually very shy with girls and
almost ignored those who tried to talk to him.  In
fact, he was pretty shy with everyone.  I suspect now
that it was due to his father, who was determined to
make him a Wimbledon champion and made him spend all
his spare time from dawn onwards practising his tennis
instead of playing with friends.  So Ian never learned
to socialise and was quite lost at camp – in fact, the
only reason he was allowed at camp was that he was
recovering from a shoulder injury and couldn’t play
tennis for a month.

Ian also looked very nervous of stripping off and
going in the shower.  Like Brett he used his towel to
cover himself.  He blushed when Trevor, his tent
leader, called out, “Come on, Ian, we’re running out
of time,” and started stalling by fiddling around in
his bag.  Finally, with a nervous glance round, he
dropped his towel and shot into the showers, keeping
his back to everybody as he washed quickly, and then
slunk out again.

So successful was he that it was not until a couple of
days later that I even caught a glimpse of his penis. 
It was small and white, like Brett’s, and looked quite
incongruous on such an otherwise well-built boy.  I
have often found that the shyest boys about revealing
their genitals are those whose penises are either very
large or very small.  I understand it’s the same with
girls about their breasts.

I suppose there are three ways of coping with the
problem.  You can try to behave quite naturally, which
is very difficult when you are ten years old.  You can
take a pride in it and show off, like Ernst, though
that’s less easy if you are undersized.  My little
friend Scott seems to manage that quite well, though –
with girls, at least.  Or else you can try to hide it
from everybody, which is the most dangerous course of
all, as it triggers off the common human reaction in
others of wanting to see that which is forbidden.

When everybody was finished, dressed and (temporarily)
clean, we returned to the tents, to find the girls
already in their swimming costumes and impatiently
awaiting us.  We hurried off to our tents to change.

As we were all in various processes of nudity inside
our tent, one of the boys from a neutral school piped
up, “Hey, Lloyd, have you see old Ernst’s knob?  It’s
bigger than yours.”  Other boys also burst in with
some comments along the lines of what they had said
during the afternoon ‘rest’, but Mickey, his
humiliation still rankling no doubt, was
uncharacteristically silent, although he did make a
show of tucking his penis into his expensive Speedo
swimming costume.

Lloyd was just putting on his swimming costume, his
own penis hanging down like a blunt sausage.  (By the
way, I never mentioned to the boys in my tent Ernst’s
school nickname of ‘Mr Sausage Man’ as I didn’t want
to stir things up any further.)  Lloyd looked at
Ernst’s penis, hanging down most of the way towards
his knees, and grinned.  “Mine’s normal, but that’s
just a freak,” he said.

Ernst began to go white as the other boys hooted with
laughter.  Knowing he was a very short fuse from
exploding, I hurriedly burst out, looking at the other
boys rather than at Lloyd, “Look, it doesn’t matter,
so let’s everybody shut up.  Remember what Kevin
said.”  Reference to Kevin did the trick, as the boys
all respected him.  They kept grinning, but made no
more comments.  They did watch with interest, though,
to see how Ernst managed to push it all down inside
his swimming costume, under cover but leaving a large
telltale bulge.

We took the long trail up to the farm swimming pool
together.  For some reason the girls all took off
first and the boys followed behind them, so I was
unable to find Tessa and walk with her, as I had
intended.  I did see Kirsty waving at me again, but
this time I pretended I hadn’t seen her.

It was a beautiful pool and very refreshing after the
long hot day.  It took me a while to spot Tessa there,
but soon saw her jumping off the diving board in a
small blue and white two-piece swimming costume.  As I
rested for a moment on the side of the pool, Kirsty
swam quietly up to me from a large group of girls
surrounding something of great interest in the middle
of the pool.  It was not hard to guess what – or
rather who - that source of interest was.

Maxi was there as well, wearing a tiny little bikini,
and at the back it was possible to see the top of the
crack in her bottom.  She had a number of girls with
her as well, and some of the boys were slowly starting
to show an interest in her.  I found the boys were
much shyer in chasing Maxi than the girls were in
chasing Mickey, perhaps through fear of ridicule.  I
enjoyed watching Maxi at times, but didn’t feel
inclined to pursue her at all.  I like my girls to be
simple and natural – like Tessa.

“Did you ask him?” Kirsty hissed.

“Who?” I asked, but guessing whom she was talking

“Mickey, of course, silly,” she giggled, and held on
to the wall next to me, staring at me and giggling.

I paused as if trying to remember, and then said, “Oh,
yes, I asked him.”

“Well, what did he *say*?” she demanded impatiently.

“He got cross and said no,” I replied.

She looked bitterly disappointed.  She looked away and
then turned back to me.  “Are you sure you asked him?”
she pleaded, looking for a ray of hope.

“Of course I did,” I retorted.  “I even told him your

She gasped and stared at me in horror.  “You shouldn’t
have done *that*!” she burst out.

I made myself look surprised.  “Why not?  You didn’t
tell me not to,” I answered, in the obstinate way of
your typical ten-year-old.

“You shouldn’t have *told* him,” she accused me, still
looking shocked.  Without another word she turned back
and rejoined Mickey’s fan club, where Susan was
waiting for her.

Tessa was not in that group, but was running around
the pool with fierce energy, diving in, occasionally
splashing people in fun and having a great time.  She
never stopped, so it was hard for me to link up with
her at all.  Eventually I worked out a plan.  I stood
by the diving board when there was a small queue and
waited.  Sure enough, Tessa soon joined the end of the
queue and I slipped in behind her.

“Hello, Tessa,” I greeted her nervously.

She looked back in surprise.  “Hello,” she replied,
and then turned round to face the front again.

“Tessa, sorry if I – I made you feel bad when we were
in the hiding place,” I stammered.

“That’s okay,” she said, still facing the front.

“I didn’t mean to . . .” I began again, but at that
moment the boy in front of her sprang off the board
and Tessa dashed on and dived in.

I felt very disappointed and too shy to try to
approach her again.  Instead I joined in with the
other boys.  Most of the pool activity seemed to
revolve in groups.  Many of the boys were hanging
around Kevin, and some round the other male prefects,
having water fights and wrestling with them.  Almost
all the girls were in groups around somebody they
admired, if not Mickey then one of their four girl

Wendy was there, wearing a one-piece red swimming
costume, in contrast to the more common bikinis worn
by many of the girls and all of the other female
prefects.  I thought it surprising that Wendy, the
most revealing of the girl prefects in a dress,
however unintentionally, should be the least revealing
in a swimming costume.

We finished our swim, feeling refreshed but weary, and
it was rather an ordeal taking a long walk back to
camp again.  Again the girls walked on in front and
the boys followed.

Back in camp, we were all pretty tired and there was
nothing like as much noise as usual.  The shadows were
lengthening into the long summer evening.  The meeting
place itself had several strong electric lights,
powered from the farmhouse, which would make it as
light as day when darkness fell, but inside the tents
we would use gas lamps.  Our leaders told us that
supper would be served in ten minutes’ time, so we
should collect our eating utensils and wash up for it.

I went to the toilet before supper, the big hole dug
in the ground near the boys’ tents.  Mickey was there,
trying to impress boys from other tents by twirling
his penis round as he urinated, sending spray
everywhere.  When he had finished, he dramatically
shook off the last drops, stood there with his penis
still hanging out of his shorts, and said, “Oh, shit,
I forgot my best trick.  Look, you take your cock like
this” he held the end of his foreskin pressed together
with his two fingers “and then you piss.  It all
swells up and then it explodes big-time when you let
go.  You can try it if you like.”

Two small boys next to him tried it, but when they let
go they only found their hands soaked in their own
urine.  Mickey gave a loud cackle at the way he had
tricked them and stalked off.  He may have felt clever
but he hadn’t increased his fan club.

When the whistle blew we went to the dining area.  We
had proper tables to sit at with long wooden benches,
and it was interesting to see what the girls in
dresses revealed as they often had to lift one leg at
a time to climb over the bench and sit next to their
friends.  Maxi was again wearing delicate soft white
panties, edged with lace, as she had quite a lot to
reveal under her short skirt.

It was rather a quiet meal, as we were feeling weary. 
It was after seven o’clock and in the summer we had
another hour of daylight.  In future evenings we would
have an entertainment session, with four tents putting
on a skit, there would be singing of English and local
folk songs and games.  But this time we were beyond
it, and the leaders were expecting our tiredness. 
After the meal, Miss Tate said, “Go back to your
tents, change into whatever you normally sleep in, and
then come back here.  We’ll have a story and some
cocoa and then it will be off to bed.”

I did not think it would be wise to return to the
meeting place wearing what I normally slept in, since
it was a textile camp and a naked boy would have
caused something of a stir.  Instead I just hauled out
a loose pair of shorts and put them on for pyjamas. 
Since it was still hot, most of the boys just wore
shorts or pyjama bottoms with nothing on top.

Most of the girls wore nighties with panties
underneath, many of them easily visible.  It struck me
as strange how during the day they tried to keep their
panties hidden under their skirts and few would dream
of deliberately showing them – accidentally, of
course, is another matter – but many seemed to have no
problem with walking round in the evening with most of
their panties hanging down under their nighties. 
Perhaps part of the solution lay in the boys’
response, as the boys seemed to regard this as nothing
other than acceptable nightwear and made no comments. 
We did, however, look a few times at Maxi, whose top
did not reach down as far as her panties, which were
very frilly and feminine with transparent lacework
down the sides.

A few of the girls, including Tessa, wore pyjama
shorts and tops rather like the boys.  I passed Tessa
in the line for cocoa and nervously said, “Hello,
Tessa.”  Again she looked at me, slightly surprised,
and said, “Hello,” but that was all.

We sat down on the grass in a semi-circle to drink our
cocoa and listen to the story, which was read by
Linda, one of the girl prefects.  The prefects were
still in their day clothes, and Linda wore a rather
large tank top, which helped to show that she had
quite large breasts.  These ‘bedtime’ stories were
educational ones on Great Lives of the Twentieth
Century, this first one being about Sir Winston
Churchill.  I suppose the aim was to quieten us in
preparation for sleep, if quietening was necessary,
rather than stir us up with an exciting adventure

By the time I had had my cup filled with cocoa, Tessa
had already settled among a crowd of girls on the far
side of the semi-circle.  Since I couldn’t sit near
her, I found a place opposite her, just in case, I’m
ashamed to admit, I might be able to see her vagina up
her pyjama leg as she sat there.  I didn’t, though I
got close once when she moved her legs and I had a
glimpse of white skin further up her groin.

Ernst and I had just settled down when I heard a voice
saying, “Oh, hello, Roy!” in obviously feigned
surprise.  It was Kirsty, with the grinning Susan
tagging along behind her.  I was quite happy with
their company up to a point, but wondered if they
might soon become a nuisance.

Kirsty was wearing a short nightie with tight white
panties clearly visible underneath.  Susan’s nightie
was slightly longer, but quickly showed baggy pale
yellow panties when she sat.  Kirsty giggled and
asked, “May we sit with you, Roy?”

I nodded reluctantly, afraid others might accuse me of
having girlfriends, and they sat.  Almost immediately,
Kirsty whispered in my ear, so no one else could hear,
“Roy, please ask Mickey again.”

“It’s no use,” I replied firmly, not bothering to
whisper.  “He won’t do it.  He got cross, so it’s a
waste of time.”

“Oh, please, Roy?” murmured Kirsty, trying a
sweet-little-girl pleading act.  “Maybe you – could do
something good for him, and he’ll do this in return?” 
Beside her, Susan giggled to show her agreement.

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to fob them off. 
“Well, I’ll see, but it might take some time,” I told
them.  “He has girls around him all the time.” 
Jealousy prompted that last remark.

“Thanks, Roy,” said Kirsty lovingly, her hair trailing
irritatingly on my bare shoulder all the time.  I
worried about whether others might be watching me. 
It’s bad enough to be accused of being in love with a
girl when it’s true, but when it isn’t true it’s worse

I put my knees up and wrapped my arms around them
while Kirsty had a whispered, giggly conversation with
Susan.  Then her hair dangled on to my shoulder again.
 “Roy, is that Ernst sitting on the other side of
you?” she whispered.  I nodded.

“Roy, do you think . . ?” she began, and then turned
her head away to giggle.  “Roy, if Mickey won’t do it
. . . would Ernst?”  She giggled again.

Now that really was playing with fire.  What decent,
modest girl would ever want to see a monstrosity like
Ernst’s penis?  Viewing should be for adults only, and
even then with a government health warning and the
signing of an indemnity form.  “It’s not a pretty
sight,” I whispered back with a grin.

Susan had put her head very close to listen, and both
girls covered their mouths tightly and giggled.  Then
Kirsty whispered back, “We don’t mind.”

I was beginning to feel like a pimp.  But I was also
getting the glimmerings of an idea that might be of
personal benefit.  My heart started thumping a bit.  I
replied, “I’ll ask him, then.  But not now.”

The girls gave muffled squeals.  At this moment Kevin
called for silence and introduced Linda, who was going
to read to us.  Kirsty had one last whisper in my ear.
 “Do you think he’ll say yes?”  I nodded, and there
was a stifled gasp from Susan behind me.  Linda turned
and looked in the direction of the noise, quite
audible as everyone else had fallen silent, and both
girls turned bright red.

I wondered with a twinge of hurt why they hadn’t asked
me for a display.  But I consoled myself with the
thought that Mickey was famous and Ernst was freakish,
whether he liked it or not, whereas I was normal and
held no particular interest for them.  The attraction
of Ernst was the same sort of attraction that make
people pay money to see the bearded lady or the
elephant man or little dwarfs at the fair, although
this was greater in that it had the ‘naughty’ factor
attached to it as well.

The story lasted about 10 minutes, and was often
punctuated by yawns from us tired children.  As it
came to an end, we were instructed to wash off our
cups in the bowls of soapy water provided, and return
to our tents to sleep.  The summer sun was just
dipping below the horizon.

I yawned, stretched out my legs in front of me,
stretched my arms above my head and clambered to my
feet.  “Goodnight, Roy,” came with loving smiles from
my new-found admirers, with Kirsty giving me a knowing
look and adding, “Don’t forget.  Is he hairy?”

“Wait and see,” I told them, and they gave shocked
squeals as if I were the one saying something rude.  I
went over to wash my cup.

I had just finished and was about to walk back to my
tent when Rosie, a pleasant sensible girl from Year
Six at our school, touched me lightly on the shoulder.
 She pointed at my shorts.  “Roy, just be careful with
your shorts when you’re sitting,” she said rather
nervously to me.  “People might be able to – to see
inside.”  Embarrassed, she gave me a quick smile and
hurried off.

I suppose she was trying to be kind and I knew she
wasn’t trying to make me feel bad.  I suddenly
wondered how many other girls had been able to see my
genitals that evening as we were listening to the
story.  My attention had been mostly on Tessa, so I
hadn’t noticed anybody watching me.  But on the other
hand, Tessa hadn’t noticed me watching her either . .

I walked back to the tent in silence with Ernst.  As
we prepared for bed, I surreptitiously sat on my
bedroll the way I had been sitting on the grass in the
meeting place and felt around with my hand to discover
what was in and what was out.  I could feel my
testicles easily, but my penis was still up and
presumably out of view.  Probably only my scrotum had
actually appeared in public.

I decided I had better wear tighter shorts in the
evenings in future.  I well remembered that incident a
couple of years earlier, related in my first story,
where the girls in my class had chanted at me, “We saw
your wee-wee,” for weeks afterwards.  Since then I had
become a naturist and it didn’t bother me so much
nowadays – but any revelations should be strictly
intentional on my part.  Only much later did I realise
the irony of a situation where I had been hoping to
see up Tessa’s pyjama shorts and all the time people
had been able to see up mine.

I was still working out a plan regarding Kirsty and
Susan’s desire to enter Ernst’s Chamber of Horrors.  I
wanted a part in it, and I didn’t see why the girls
should get something for nothing.  I couldn’t speak to
Ernst now, as it was the sort of discussion we could
only do in private.  So I would sleep on it, and see
if the plan that was formulating in my mind still
seemed reasonable in the morning.

(To be continued)


It was already light when we awoke the following
morning.  I think we had all slept very heavily after
such an exhausting first day.

The wake-up whistle would be blown at seven o’clock,
we were told, and we should assemble for breakfast at
half-past.  We were still of the age, though, when we
woke quite early and got up almost immediately,
whatever the circumstances.  Only Lloyd remained in
bed, seemingly dead to the world.  He hadn’t gone to
bed at the same time as us the previous evening, but
had stayed clothed and presumably gone off to meet the
other leaders, for whatever reason, once we were all

So it was not too long after six when Ernst and I were
urinating side by side into the pit just beyond our
tents.  Ernst had his usual dopey expression on his
face, but I knew that he was proudly showing off to
the other boys who were involved in the same activity.
 Again he was unable to push his penis out through the
leg of his pyjama shorts, so he stood there with those
shorts around his knees, penis far out in front of him
and idly waving it about as he did his business,
causing the other boys to draw back in mock alarm.

When we finished, I muttered to him, “Ernst, I need to
talk to you alone now, okay?”  He nodded, and we
wandered off into the bushes.

I told him about Kirsty and Susan and their morbid
request.  He gave his slow grin, enjoying his fame. 
“Are those the two girls who sat next to you during
the story last night?” he asked, and I confirmed it.

I anticipated Ernst’s response.  “Are they going to
show me their wee-holes as well?” he asked crudely.

“I’ll tell them,” I promised.  “And just in case
there’s a problem when we do it . . .”  I outlined to
him my solution if the girls didn’t want to perform at
the last minute.

As expected, the two giggling girls were on to me as
soon as I arrived at breakfast.  “Did you get Mickey
for us?” they demanded.

“Not a chance,” I told them.

They pouted, very disappointed.  Then Kirsty gave her
usual giggle and whispered, “What about Ernst?”

“He says he’ll do it,” I told them.  They gave little
squeals, pressed their hands to their mouths, looked
at each other with big eyes and made gasping noises.

“When?  After breakfast?” asked Kirsty breathlessly.

“Yes, and – and Tessa too, if she wants,” I said,
unable to see her.  “But he won’t let people see it
for nothing.  He says you must do it as well.”

It seemed they hadn’t anticipated this at all.  They
looked genuinely shocked rather than delighted as they
squealed with their hands to their mouths, eyes big
and gasping.  Same behaviour, but it was easy to tell
the different feelings behind it.

“I’d never let a *boy* see my fanny,” breathed Kirsty,
and then gave another squeal as she hadn’t intended me
to hear that.

“Me neither,” shuddered Susan.

I felt deflated.  My plans had come to nothing after
all.  “See if – if we can pay him something else,”
pleaded Kirsty.  “Or if we can do him a favour or

“Look, it won’t work that way,” I told them crossly. 
In an inspired bit of psychology I added, “Ernst won’t
care.  He’ll just do it for those other girls

“What other girls?” demanded Kirsty, seizing my arm.

“I’m not telling,” I replied.  “I wouldn’t have told
them your names either if you had done it first.  They
can tell you afterwards if they want.”  The moment I
said it, I realised that last comment was a mistake. 
The emphasis would have to be on keeping quiet about
it.  If the leaders heard about any peep shows we
would be in trouble.  And I wasn’t sure if I could
trust these two giggling Gerties to keep their mouths

“Are they going to show Ernst – themselves?” asked
Kirsty hurriedly.

“That’s always the condition Ernst makes,” I told
them.  “But look, I want some breakfast.  And don’t
come and sit next to me or people will think you’re my
girlfriends.”  Again, as I said it, I realised that
was not a good idea either, as I would have liked them
to sit with me – but with Tessa.  I couldn’t see Tessa
at all.

When I had breakfast, sitting next to Ernst, I could
see the girls sitting across from us.  They were
talking earnestly with their heads together and kept
shaking their heads.  Tessa listened at first to what
they were saying, but then took no further interest. 
If they were indeed discussing Ernst, Tessa did not
want to join in.  In a way I was glad she was not that
kind of girl – but on the other hand I was desperate
to get to know her by any means possible.

I told Ernst what had happened and he shrugged.  He
wasn’t likely to budge.  He had been tricked more than
once at school by girls who promised to reveal their
charms to him if he showed them his ‘sausage’, as they
usually called it, but failed to deliver the goods. 
He would not let himself be tricked again.

After breakfast we had half an hour to wash our
utensils and clean our tent for the inter-tent
competition, a half-hour we boys always hated, and
then we returned to the meeting place for the next
announcement.  Kevin was in charge now, and he told us
that there was also to be a sports competition.  Boys’
and girls’ tents would be paired off, making a total
of four teams, who would play each other at football,
rounders, basketball and volleyball.

The pairing worked as from Tents One and Five onwards,
so I was secretly thrilled that my Tent Three was
paired with Lisa’s Tent Seven.  The downside was that
it also included Kirsty and Susan, but I already knew
that I would encounter them often enough if I were to
get to know Tessa.

Our first match was to be played immediately: we were
to play the combined Tents Four and Eight at football.
 Lloyd and Lisa were our leaders, but they were not to
play themselves.  Since there were 16 in a team, the
plan was that four should sit out every match,
basically taking it in turns to sit out one match in
every four, but the leaders were given discretion to
allow any whiners or wimps to sit out more often if
they wished.  We chose the name of Hawks for
ourselves, while our opponents gloried in being the

Excitedly we went down to the field for the football. 
As usual I tried to position myself as close to Tessa
as possible, ready to smile nervously and say hello if
she looked at me.  She was wearing a T-shirt and loose
light blue shorts, but seemed to have had the sense
this time to wear white panties underneath.  At any
rate, they didn’t show through, even when she bent

Lloyd and Lisa told us we could each choose one sport
to sit out on over the next two days, when we would be
playing the Eagles at all four.  When they asked for
volunteers to sit out the football, most of the girls
put their hands up, including Kirsty and Susan.  Tessa
kept her hand down and was clearly keen to play.

So 12 of us went on the field for the match.  Ernst
was a pretty good goalkeeper, and with me supporting
his claims to Lloyd, he was chosen for that position. 
Mickey, pushing himself, talked Lloyd into making him
a forward.  Tessa, bursting with more enthusiasm than
I had seen from her, begged to be another forward, and
was duly given a position there, which drew some
grumbling from the boys, who saw this as a prime
position.  She was obviously something of a tomboy.  I
wanted to be a forward as well, more to be close to
Tessa than for any other reason, but was made a

We did not have a strong side.  Brett was lazy and
tentative, while Mickey was useless.  He spent most of
his time shouting at the rest of us in his shrill
voice or giggling.  Whenever he tried to kick the
ball, if he made contact at all, it seemed to come off
the side of his foot, which did flummox the opposition
for a few minutes until they realised how hopeless he
was.  On one occasion he kicked at a ball rolling
towards him with his right foot, only for the ball to
bounce off his left.  If the ball was coming towards
him at any pace, he would simply perform what we later
called his ‘matador trick’ and dodge elegantly out of
the way.

His two followers were not much better, and the only
really good player on the side, apart from Ernst, was
Ralph, one of the boys from a minor school, who kept
losing his temper at the rest of us.  I was no great
player, though I could do the basics, but Tessa was at
least as good as I was.  She didn’t keep to her
position very well, but she chased the ball furiously
all over the field.

Another problem was that, with her being a girl, the
other boys were reluctant to pass the ball to her,
although she was doing a better job than most of them.
 I took my opportunity and said to her during a brief
pause in the game, “Tessa, when I get the ball, go
running down the field so I can pass to you.”  She
nodded, and I did that a few times, when I got chance.
 Most of the time, when I did get the ball, the other
side was on to me so quickly I didn’t have time to
look for her and pass.

At half-time we were two-nil down, and would have done
worse were it not for Ernst’s good work in goal.  I
mentioned this as we sat on the ground eating half an
orange each.  Mickey retorted, “That’s not surprising
since he’s got three legs.”  His followers tittered. 
I saw Ernst’s lip tighten, but otherwise he ignored
them.  With Lloyd present, Mickey no doubt believed he
was safe.

“Tessa’s the best of the girls,” I put in nervously,
hoping both to prevent any possible trouble and to win
favour with Tessa.

“And Mickey’s the worst of the girls,” put in Ernst

Mickey looked totally taken aback.  In a flash I saw
some sort of explosion was imminent, though I didn’t
know how it would come with Mickey.  And if there was
a public row between the two, would Ernst get fair
treatment from the prefects, who had been so indulgent
towards Mickey?  Perhaps the best way would be to
unite forces against Mickey, so I spluttered, “Yes,
Mickey, you need to spend more time kicking the ball
and less time shouting and blaming everyone else. 
Doesn’t he, Ralph?”

I called on the best player in our side, whom I could
see was inwardly seething at the incompetence of the
rest of us.  He was quick to vent his frustration on
Mickey.  “Yes, I can’t even pass the ball to you
because you miss it and mess it up,” he burst out
angrily.  “And all you do is giggle about it.  Look,
if you can’t play, get off the field and let one of
the girls take your place.  Even they’d be better than

There was a murmur of support from the other boy in
our tent who was Ralph’s friend.  Unfortunately Ralph
then turned on Brett and told him to move his arse and
stop being so scared of tackling, and the spotlight
turned away from Mickey.  Lloyd at this stage stepped
in and told us all to be quiet and just do our best in
the second half.

I was still mad when we went on to the field for the
second half.  This time I told Tessa to pass the ball
to me whenever she got it, as the other side was
keeping the ball away from me.  She did so, and I
dribbled it up the field, too fast for the opposition,
and slammed it into the goal before they could blink. 
That plan worked superbly.  Tessa was good at getting
the ball, and I would just wait for her while she
passed to me, and in the second half I scored one goal
after another until we won the match ten-two.  I was
the hero of the team, and Tessa wrapped her arms round
my waist as we left the field and told me I was

Another glorious fantasy went down the tubes as Lloyd
told us to take the field and the real second half
began.  Distracted by my daydream, I forgot what I
wanted to tell Tessa about passing to each other and
lost my chance.  Well, perhaps I should be thinking
more about passing to Ralph, but Tessa was prettier. 
Or she would be if she didn’t wear shorts all the

Disaster struck about two minutes into the second
half.  The opposition were racing away with the ball
towards our goalmouth while I pursued them in vain. 
Ernst came running out to try to intercept the ball,
and their forward unleashed a powerful kick.  The ball
flew straight at Ernst and hit him right between the
legs.  Making the sound of a bull elephant in
distress, Ernst collapsed to the ground, where he lay
writhing in agony and still howling.  Another forward
tried to boot the rebound into the goal, but only
succeeded in kicking it out at the back.

Ernst lay there on his side, hands clasped between his
legs, still roaring.  Everybody ran up in
consternation or fascination to get a closer look. 
Girls screamed when they realised the exact location
of the injury.

Behind me I heard Mickey laughing.  “Right in the
goolies!” he cried in his shrill voice that could be
heard all around.  “Oh, good shot!”  His shrill
laughter filled the air.

It was the stupidest thing he ever said and did on
camp.  I sensed an immediate chill among the girls who
had gathered round.  They looked at him, aghast that
anybody should say such a callous thing.  Girls seem
naturally to be sympathetic towards anybody who gets
hurt, and boys who do not share these feelings quickly
lose their regard.  Even Mickey seemed to sense he had
gone too far, and he just grinned weakly and shrugged
his shoulders.

I was quickly on the spot, helping to form a group
around the fallen warrior, who was gasping desperately
for breath and trying not to cry amid hideous groans. 
Lloyd came running on, trying in vain to flex Ernst’s

“How was he hurt?” I heard Kirsty’s concerned voice
behind my shoulder.  She and Susan had been sitting on
the sidelines doing much more talking than watching,
and it was not surprising that they had missed the
vital moment.

“One of their players kicked the ball right into him,”
I explained.  “It was an accident.”

“What are goolies?” asked Susan, brow furrowed in
puzzlement.  “Does that mean his wee?”

“Well – not quite,” I tried to explain.  “Just –
underneath.  You can – ask him to show you when he’s
better.”  Even now I was hinting at reopening
negotiations about a secret meeting.

“It means his balls,” sniggered Kirsty, informing her
friend.  “Roy, are his balls as big as his wee?”

“Find out for yourself,” I shrugged.

“Are they going to examine it?” giggled Kirsty,
watching the casualty scene with interest.  These
girls’ sympathy hadn’t lasted too long before being
overwhelmed by curiosity.

“No, it doesn’t need that,” I assured her.  “It’ll get
better in a few minutes.”

Right now Lloyd was picking up Ernst and carrying him
over to the sidelines.  Lisa looked hurriedly around
for a substitute, and the first candidate her eye fell
on was Kirsty.  “Kirsty, we need you to take Ernst’s
place,” she told her.  “Come and join in, please.”

Kirsty looked as horrified as if she had been asked to
do a striptease.  No, I lie – I should have said
*more* horrified, I’m sure.  “I don’t know how to be a
goalkeeper!” she protested.

“You don’t have to be a goalkeeper, Roy or somebody
can do that,” replied Lisa.  “We’re a player short, so
we just need you to play.”

“But – my dress will get in the way,” Kirsty

“You can take it off,” suggested Susan with a giggle.

“Tuck it in, then,” suggested Lisa.

“But – Susan’s better than I am,” argued Kirsty,
trying to rat on her friend.

Susan was taking no chances and she was already on her
way to the sidelines, so Kirsty had no choice. I have
always secretly fancied myself as a goalkeeper – not
permanently, but just as a change from my usual
fantasy role of fearsome striker – so I allowed myself
to be put in goal.

Once again, my fantasies let me down.  Three more
goals passed me during the next ten minutes or so, and
I felt terribly upset that I was putting on a poor
show in front of Tessa.  I felt very relieved when,
after the third goal went in, I saw Ernst bounding
towards me, fit again and eager to get back his
regular job.

Kirsty was equally relieved, and she slipped off the
field with her purple skirt still tucked
half-heartedly into her panties.  She tended to wear
longer, fuller dresses, almost of knee-length, which
would flap around during sports, whereas the girls who
wore shorter skirts for games didn’t have the same
problem.  About half the girls were still wearing
skirts of one sort or another to play, some of them
simple tennis dresses, and presumably they were not
too worried about the occasional revelation of their

We eventually lost six-nil, despite the teamwork I had
tried to establish with Tessa, causing both Ralph and
Mickey to yell at me a couple of times that I should
have passed to them instead.  Mickey’s verbiage was, I
think, just for show, as even he must have realised
that he was pretty incompetent in dealing with balls. 
He came off the field with his reputation in tatters. 
The rest of us in his tent had quickly seen what an
unpleasant, loud-mouthed wimp he really was, and now
the girls of Tent Seven had found out first-hand that
he could be very callous, and no doubt their
incredibly effective grapevine had already passed on
the message that the film star was not as cute as he

“Well played, Tessa,” I said with embarrassment as we
came off.

“Thanks,” she said, giving me only a glance.  I
wondered if she didn’t like me, and wondered if that
was the result of what I had said about Mickey and
Ernst in our secret hiding place.

As we walked up to the meeting place for drinks and
biscuits, Ernst drifted away to talk to some other
boys and immediately Kirsty sidled up to me again. 
“Roy,” she began seriously, looking downwards.  “Will
Ernst’s – thing be any different after his accident?”

“What do you mean by different?” I asked.

“Well – I mean, will it be – swollen or bruised or –
anything else different?” she asked.

“It could be,” I replied guardedly.  Sensing that this
matter had seized her interest, I added, “It could be
– all swollen and purple.  You’ll have to ask him.”

“*I* can’t ask him!” she protested, giggling, while
Susan behind her joined in the chorus.  “*You* ask him
for us.”

“No, I’m not going to do that,” I told her cunningly. 
“You refused that meeting we were talking about, so I
can’t go asking him now when you’re not serious.”

“Would he – still show us?” Susan put in timidly.

“Well, I’m sure he would,” I replied, certain that
Ernst would never turn down the chance to shock two
silly girls, especially if he was going to be treated
himself in return.  “But he always makes the same
condition.  You’ll have to show him yours as well, and
I know you’re too scared to do that.”

The girls fell away slightly, shuddered and looked at
each other nervously.  A battle was going on between
curiosity and inhibition, and I was desperate to find
out which would win.  “It’s not that we’re scared,”
Kirsty protested, definitely scared.  “It’s just –
well – it’s a big thing to ask someone.  And we don’t
know him.”

“I’ve told you, Ernst doesn’t mind,” I said, and the
conversation broke off as we lined up for drinks and

Miss Tate announced that the rest of the morning would
be free time again, as she knew we wanted to explore
the campsite some more.  Cheers showed approval.  Most
of the interest was centred on the nearby mountain
stream, and I was keen to go along with the others and
explore it.  And so I would – unless Kirsty took the
plunge.  (With Ernst, I mean – not into the stream.)

I had a mutter to Ernst during drinks and told him we
might have a deal.  I suggested he keep away from me
for a few minutes, and then if nothing happened within
two minutes after we were allowed to go, I would join
him and we would go off to the stream.  Then I hung
around near Tessa, hoping in vain for another chance
to get to know her.

Curiosity was gradually winning the battle with
Kirsty.  Straight after drinks she hurried over to me
again and took me aside.  “Roy, if we show Ernst –
ourselves – do we have to take our clothes off?”

“Look, you can do as much or as little as you like
with Ernst,” I replied.  “Whatever you do, he’ll do as
well, I promise you.  If you take your clothes off,
he’ll take his off.”

“I don’t want – quite that much,” Kirsty sniggered. 
Them she presented another problem.  “But we – we
don’t even know Ernst.  I mean, we know who he is, but
we’ve never talked to him, even.”

It seemed crazy to me that they were even thinking of
getting together, just the two of them, with a boy
they had never spoken to for such a delicate matter,
but this was the first indication they had thought of
the problem, once the meeting had really entered the
realms of possibility.

“Well, I can come too,” I suggested.  “I can show you
mine, if you want.”  (Stop here for nervous giggles.) 
“I don’t mind.  And you’ll need me to organise
everything and make sure it all goes properly.”

The two girls whispered together.  Then they shuddered
and blushed.  “All right, Roy – we – we’ll do it,”
agreed Kirsty, looking a bundle of nerves.

I didn’t ask her when, as I suspected she might put it
off.  So I said, “Okay, then, you and Susan go
straight up to the cave now.  I’ll come with Ernst in
about five minutes, so nobody sees us going together. 
All right?”

They nodded, tight-lipped.  Then Kirsty suddenly put
in, “Would it – be all right if we showed him our
boobies instead?”

“It’s the same thing – if you show Ernst yours, he’ll
show you his,” I grinned at them, seeing the
disappointment and uncertainty in their faces again. 
Still, if they went through with this, it was entirely
from choice.

“We’ll go now,” Kirsty assured me, as she took Susan
by the arm and they walked away, so close as to be
touching each other, in the direction of the cave.

Triumphant, but also feeling nervous, I found Ernst. 
He gave his usual dopey grin when I told him we had a
deal.  I gave him a few quick words.  Knowing Ernst’s
weaknesses, I advised him to play it cool, and not to
stare or make comments that would embarrass the girls.
 He could leave it to me to organise everything, as
his honorary manager who just hoped to share in the
profits.  And I gave him instructions on just how much
he was to do.

There were a few children scrambling around the rocks
when we arrived, but most of them had gone down to the
stream.  We waited until the coast was clear, and then
I led Ernst through the hidden entrance into the
secret cave.

We heard a muted nervous squeal and giggle before we
even saw them.  Kirsty and Susan were standing at the
far side waiting for us, hands nervously over their
mouths.  They didn’t say anything as Ernst came in and
stood next to me, so I thought I had better run the
proceedings.  Our eyes were still getting used to the
change of light.

I was feeling very nervous myself, and surprised I
felt shy about exposing myself to them as well.  I had
been a naturist for more than two years by now, but
had done very little of this kind of activity in the
textile world, except of course with Saskia.

“Well, first of all we just get down to our
underwear,” I began nervously.  I thought small stages
would be easier for the girls to handle.  “I’ll go
number one.  Then you girls go two and three, and
Ernst will go four.”

“Yes – I mean, no, let Ernst be two,” faltered Kirsty.
 “Then we’ll go at the end.”

Ernst shook his head firmly.  “Look, you two started
this meeting, so you must do it first,” he told them. 
“I’ve been tricked by girls before who say they’ll do
it afterwards and then decide they’re too scared.”

“Ernst’s right,” I agreed hastily.  “I’m going first
so that will be your guarantee that Ernst’s going to
do it.  If you do.  I promise.”

“Otherwise we forget it,” added Ernst.

He certainly sounded as if he meant it, and the girls
clearly believed him.  Kirsty nodded and whispered,
“All right.”

“So I’m number one,” I said, pulling my shorts down to
my knees and standing there in my brief white
underpants.  The girls stared, sniggering nervously. 
At my age any telltale bulge was negligible.  “Now
it’s your turn and then Ernst,” I told them.

Kirsty looked at Susan.  “Come on, Susan, you do it
now,” she told her.

“No, you!” protested Susan, seemingly shocked by the
treachery of her friend.

“Look, Kirsty, it should be you because you were the
one who set it all up,” I told her.  “Don’t mess Ernst
around, or he may decide he’s not going to do it.”

“All right, I don’t care,” replied Kirsty, which if
true made me wonder why she had ever made a fuss.  She
lifted the front of her skirt to show the same sort of
whitish flesh-coloured embroidered panties that she
had been wearing the previous day.

Ernst nodded his head in appreciation.  “Very
ladylike,” he said.  I thought it better if Ernst kept
all his comments to himself and had told him so before
we started, but Kirsty didn’t seem to mind this one.

“Now you, Susan,” said Kirsty, making it sound like an
accusation.  She dropped the front of her skirt, so I
immediately pulled up my shorts.  We had agreed that
we would contribute in equal measure.

With a quick look round and a giggle, Susan looked
demurely downwards and then lifted the hem of her
skirt, to reveal her white, rather baggy cotton
panties.  Then, fairly quickly, she lowered it again. 
Both girls shared a giggle and then looked expectantly
at Ernst.

“My turn,” he agreed confidently.  He took a second or
two to undo his belt and buttons, and then pulled down
his shorts, revealing his full pair of underpants with
a helpfully high waist.  The girls gave muffled gasps
as they looked, and I could see them staring no doubt
at the misshapen bulge in the front.

Ernst gave them a few seconds to gawk, and then pulled
his shorts up again, but didn’t bother with the
buttons, leaving a slither of white visible.  I
wondered how the girls would take the second round,
but the sight seemed to have whetted their appetites
and heightened their excitement.  “Now you again,
Roy,” said Kirsty, actually starting it off.

I should have done it properly, pulling both my shorts
and underpants down to my knees, but I felt strangely
shy.  So instead I just reached inside the leg of my
shorts and pulled out my penis, just as I do when
urinating.  Again there were the muffled squeals and
giggles, the clasping of hands to mouths, as they
leaned forward and stared at my penis for the first
time.  Then Kirsty said, “It’s not very big.”

“It’s the same as for most boys my age,” I told her.

“Except for me!” boasted Ernst proudly, grinning

“Now it’s your turn, Kirsty, if you want to see
Ernst’s,” I reminded her, putting my penis back home.

Kirsty gave a little squeal and put her shaking hand
on the hem of her dress.  She lifted it to reveal her
panties again, and then removed one hand.  With it she
did just as I had done, shakily pulling aside the leg
of her panties.  I wished then I had pulled my
clothing down properly so she would have had to do the
same.  Her vagina, the black gash down the middle of
her crotch, was just beginning to sprout tiny dark
auburn hairs in a little ridge on either side, with a
few wisps spreading out at the top.

It had to be a quick look, because very hurriedly she
let the elastic snap back and smoothed her skirt down
over it.  Susan, next to her, was looking very white
but trying to grin gamely.  “Come on, Susan,” urged
Kirsty bossily, still blushing but more confident now
her own ordeal was over.

Susan lifted her skirt and pulled aside her panties at
the leg.  All I could see was white flesh before she
hurriedly put it back again.

“Hey, I didn’t see anything,” protested Ernst
undiplomatically.  “Show me properly.”

“Susan’s is mostly underneath,” explained Kirsty.  I
already knew that often happened with plump girls. 
“Come on, Susan, do it properly so they can see.”

Susan’s eyes filled with tears for a moment, and I
felt a pang of shame.  Probably she had been persuaded
into it by Kirsty and she clearly didn’t like this
part.  She opened a wider area of her panties this
time, and I was just able to see a little slit among
the folds of flesh that covered her pubic mound.

“We’ve done it, so now it’s your turn, Ernst,”
announced Kirsty brightly, the stress still evident as
if unsure she could trust Ernst.

“Okay, here we go,” grinned Ernst.  “This is –
Superknob!”  So saying, he pulled down his shorts to
his knees, gave himself a pat on the front of his
underpants, and then pulled them down too.  His penis
swung down and wobbled in front of him.

Both girls let out screams and clasped their hands to
their mouths, backing away as if afraid it was going
to attack them.  Then Kirsty gave a silly giggle, and
a moment later was suffused with laughter into her
hands.  Susan joined in.  I realised I should have
warned silly girls like this not to laugh, as I had
already seen this was often their first response when
they didn’t know what else to do.

“That’s it!” snapped Ernst, putting his penis away
again and adjusting his clothes.  “It’s over now.”  He
turned and walked back to the little entrance.

“Hey, wait!  Can you show us where you got hit this
morning?” Kirsty called to him, unaware that anything
was wrong.

“No,” retorted Ernst, and in a moment he had scrambled
up and departed.

Both girls now realised they had offended him and
stood there looking rather startled.  “It’s stupid to
laugh like that,” I glared at them.  “If you laugh at
any boy’s penis, he’ll get cross.”

“I couldn’t help it,” protested Kirsty, and she
giggled again.  “It was so funny when it just came
down like this – boop!”  She demonstrated with her
hands, and both of them had another convulsion of
giggles.  “But we didn’t get to look at it properly. 
He put it away before we were ready.”

“Well, you put yours away very quickly,” I reminded

“We didn’t,” muttered Kirsty, in the tone of one who
is telling a lie and knows it.

“Yes, you did,” I insisted.  “Let’s go.”  I started
heading back.

“Roy, do you think – you could ask Ernst if he’ll do
it again?  Properly?” asked Kirsty from behind me.

“I try do later, but he’ll only give you what you give
him.”  I was now standing outside, dazzled by the
bright sunlight, as the other two came through after
me.  “So if you want to look at his penis for half a
minute, you must let him look at your vaginas for half
a minute.”  Even at this age, I took I pride in using
the proper names rather than ‘baby words’.

Both girls looked rather disconcerted by this.  I
could see Susan shaking her head.  “Ask him,” Kirsty
repeated, but she didn’t sound confident.

I headed off down towards the stream, without caring
whether the girls were following me.  The noise from
that area was easy to hear, and I was sure I would
find Tessa there as well.

The stream tumbled down a smooth rocky slope from the
hillside, and I followed it down.  Boys were throwing
pieces of wood and anything else handy down it to see
them go.  Then it evened out into a small, shallow
pool, besides which there was a large area of bare
earth and small areas of sand.  Then came another
slope, a gentler one, before it evened out again, and
this time there was a large area of sand.  It was
almost like the seaside, and most of us were still
young enough to enjoy playing in it.  Several of the
leaders were there joining in as well or just laughing
at the efforts of the children.

Looking for Tessa, I scrambled down to the bottom. 
There was nothing of interest in the middle section,
the bare earth, so most of the children were playing
in the sand or paddling in the stream or trying to dam
the stream.  I couldn’t see Tessa there, but it was so
crowded it would have been difficult to find anybody. 
The sand was very light and fine, but it was in a
little sheltered valley so it didn’t blow away easily.

After a futile hunt for her, while trying to make it
appear that I wasn’t looking for anybody, I decided to
go back to the top again.  It was altogether too
crowded down here for my liking.

There were about 15 of us at the top.  “This would
make a good slide,” I told the others.  “Let’s grab
our swimming costumes and have a go.”

“We can’t,” one of them told me gloomily.  “We asked
Kevin, and he said he was sorry, but the costumes
would collect sand and mud and then we would mess up
the farmhouse swimming pool.”

“Well, we don’t need swimming costumes either,” I told
them.  I didn’t know if what I was about to do would
be allowed, but if I started something it might be
difficult to stop, whereas it would be easy to say no.
 And nobody else seemed brave enough to consider it.

I stripped off my shorts, and then my shirt as well so
it wouldn’t get wet.  To mild murmurs of protest, as
there were several girls there as well, I clambered
over to the stream wearing only my underpants.  I sat
on the rock, slid sideways into the stream of water,
slithered a little way down, gathered speed, and then
landed with a small splash in pool below.

“Hey, that looks like fun!” I heard a voice say, among
the general murmuring.

“It’s great!” I assured them, scrambling up the slope
for another turn.  By the time I went back for my
third turn, several other boys had also stripped down
to their underpants and were following me.

The news seemed to spread.  Other boys joined us from
below, and soon it became too much of a good thing,
with a long queue forming for a turn.  We were all in
our underpants, with none of the girls having the
courage to join us.

None of them?  Suddenly, as I was scrambling up again,
I noticed one of the laughing figures whizzing past me
on its way into the pool.  I turned, took another
look, and recognised Tessa!  She was wearing only a
pair of white panties.  I didn’t know where she had
been before.

I pretended to be examining an imaginary cut on my
foot, waiting until Tessa caught up with me.  Then I
looked up, as if in surprise, beamed at her, and said,
“Hey, Tessa, glad you’re joining us.  You’re the only
girl brave enough, I think!”

“Yes, this is fun,” she laughed as I followed on
behind her now.  But I could hear some of the other,
fussier girls murmuring their disapproval.

I made a point of keeping close to Tessa now,
following her closely down the slope and pretending
that bumping into her at the bottom was all an
accident.  But she didn’t mind, and in the fun of it
all we were laughing and chatting as if we had known
each other all our lives.  I was thrilled.

More of those at the bottom came to join us, and
finally some of the other girls dared to take off
their outer clothes and join in the fun.  The leaders
came to see what was happening, but they just laughed
and didn’t try to stop us.  Tessa grew bored with the
long queue, and suddenly disappeared.  A few minutes
later I just managed to catch sight of her scrambling
down towards the sand, fully clothed again.

I had another turn, to make it look as if I wasn’t
following her, and then I followed her.  There was
much more room in the sandy area now, and I found
Tessa digging a hole along with Kirsty and Susan. 
Kirsty called out to me, giving me the excuse I
needed, and I joined them.

It was an exhilarating morning.  We finally returned
to camp when the lunch bell rang, but I wasn’t feeling
very comfortable.  The sand particles were very fine,
and they had got inside my clothes.  Under the crotch
was the main area, as the sand worked its way down
into my underpants, and I could tell, from the
surreptitious scratching that went on when others
thought nobody was looking, that they were suffering
from the same problem.

The afternoon programme would start with the siesta,
followed by a time when each tent would prepare a skit
for the evening entertainment.  Then would come a
little more free time, followed by a volleyball match
against the Eagles.  After that we would take our
showers, have our swim and then return for supper.

As soon as we got inside the tent we stripped down to
our underpants again.  Although it made shade for us,
the tent seemed to hold the heat almost like a
greenhouse.  Again Lloyd settled us down on our
bedrolls and excused himself to go and do whatever
private matter he had to go and do.

No sooner than he left than Mickey gave a wriggle on
his bedroll, pulled a face and said in his
high-pitched voice, “Shit, I don’t know about you guys
but that sand from the stream has got all into my
cock.”  He was talking to his two faithful followers,
who stuck with him although they did seem to have lost
some respect for him, but I usually got the impression
he intended the rest of us to hear as well.

“Me too,” said one of his mates, and most of the rest
of us joined in.

Mickey in the meantime was pulling off his underpants
and going over to the tent door to shake them out,
quite happy for anybody to see him this time, although
that was not likely unless somebody from another tent
was actually putting his head outside and looking
around.  His followers quickly pulled off their
underpants and did likewise.

I hesitated for a moment.  After all, Kevin had not
actually told us not to go naked inside the tent –
perhaps he had forgotten or perhaps he just thought it
didn’t matter.  So I pulled off mine too.  Others in
the tent were stirring.  “Come on, Ernst, show us your
hosepipe again,” grinned Ralph, on his way to the

Ernst grinned and slithered out of his underpants,
again causing comments of admiration from the others. 
Mickey glowered but said nothing.  He clearly did not
like anybody else to be the centre of attention, but
he was now too wary of Ernst to make any comments. 
His policy from then on seemed to be to ignore Ernst.

Mickey returned to his bedroll and lay on his back,
his long elegant penis flopping back on to his body. 
“Every time I go to the shithouse I’m going to piss
sand,” he complained, scratching and shaking his

His foreskin was closed over the end of his penis,
almost in the shape of a duck’s bill, and he now
pulled it back so his little pink prepuce was exposed.
 “I’ve even got sand up my pisshole,” he squeaked,
making his followers giggle.  With his fingers he
started identifying the offending grains of sand and
pulling them off as best he could.

Within moments his penis was stiffening.  “Look at my
cock,” he urged his followers, but I felt sure he was
trying to steal the limelight back from Ernst. 
“Imagine if I poked a girl with sand up my cock. 
She’d get it up her fanny and they’d be hatching baby
bits of sand!”  He went off into squeals of silly
laughter, joined by his friends, who were also working
at making their penises stiff.

I tried to ignore him with contempt.  I stood up, took
my cup and went over to the supply of drinking water
in each tent.  It was easily replaced, so I put some
water in my cup and returned to my bedroll.  I quietly
got on with the job of cleaning out my penis with the
water.  Some of the others soon caught on and did the
same, but not Mickey, who was not about to borrow
anybody else’s idea.

“Hey, Ernst, you need to use a bucket, not a cup,”
grinned Ralph.  Ernst grinned lazily back, recognising
this as good fun and not an insult.

“He’d need a whole swimming pool!” giggled the other
boy from Ralph’s school.

At this stage I noticed Brett in the opposite corner. 
He was looking uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to be
the odd one out again and the possible victim of more
persecution.  He had quietly removed his underpants
and was busy cleaning out his little penis in private.
 I thought I saw him pulling it to try to make it
temporarily a little larger.

Mickey was having great fun masturbating.  His stiff
penis was now pointing towards his chin and he was
continually making obscene comments to keep his
equally stupid friends in giggles.

“Hey, Mickey, you’ll have to show your piss like that
in your next film,” put in one of the others.

“It’s going to be a sex film,” piped up Mickey.  “Then
I’ll show you what I do with Maxi in the bath.”

“They should feature Ernst as well,” laughed Ralph. 
“Imagine showing a thing his size in a film.  It could
only be a horror film!”  The whole tent all went up in
laughter and Ernst grinned happily, working away at
getting the sand out from under his foreskin.

“Hey, Ernst, you can do it the easy way.  Just put it
in your mouth and suck the sand off,” suggested one of
Mickey’s followers, so far forgetting himself as to
acknowledge Ernst’s existence.  Again this caused
squeals of inane laughter.  I just kept out of it all,
wondering what would happen if Kevin was attracted by
the noise and came in to find a tent full of erect

Mickey was winning back attention to himself with
cheap amusements as he talked to his penis.  “That’s
right, little Percy, you sit up and beg for uncle like
a good little boy,” he crooned.  “You’re missing Maxi,
aren’t you?  Never mind, uncle will look after you and
you’ll be busy again soon.”  I found it quite
disgusting, and even more so when some of the other
weak-minded boys tried to copy him, stroking and
shaking their penises and talking to them in silly

We lay on our backs with our penises pointing upwards,
although Brett still had his bare bottom towards us. 
Mickey however had clearly decided to ignore Brett as
well, though he did include Ralph and his friends in
his senseless chatter now and then.  Mickey kept his
penis upright for as long as it would stay, with his
two wrinkled pink testicles hanging underneath, and
continued the obscene chatter.    

I kept an eye on my watch, and just before the whistle
for the end of siesta was due, I slipped on my
underpants.  I waited until Mickey and his acolytes
were shrieking with laughter at some vulgar comment he
made, and then whispered to Ernst and the others to do
the same.  Sure enough, a couple of minutes later,
just before the whistle, Lloyd walked in, to find the
three of them lying there, shrieking with laughter and
their stiff little penises in full view.

I had hoped Lloyd would deliver a good sharp lesson,
but unfortunately he was not up to Kevin’s standard. 
“Hey, guys, what’s this about?” was all he said.  “Cut
it out, okay?  We need to be planning our skit for

Perhaps he should have been thinking himself of an
idea instead of getting up to some skittish behaviour
or whatever with Tara.  Instead, we had to put up with
one of Mickey’s ideas, which had himself in the
leading role, naturally, and was so crummy I won’t
bother to repeat it, even if I could remember it
properly.  He did have the temerity to suggest to
Lloyd that we included a sex scene, but presented it
as a joke.  Lloyd, I could tell, was beginning to get
some idea that Mickey was not quite such an angel as
he looked.

It was after this, during the next round of drinks,
that I had another call on my services.  For now,
Kirsty was not trying to contact me again.  I had not
so far had the dubious pleasure of even speaking to
Mickey’s twin sister Maxi, nor had I tried to do so. 
But now, as I left Ernst and tried once again to
arrange a totally accidental meeting with Tessa, I
found Maxi by my side.

“Hello, Roy,” she began, smiling very sweetly.  Like
her brother, she knew just how to turn on the charm
when required, but I was very wary.

“Hello,” I replied noncommittally.

“Roy, some of the girls are saying that your friend
Ernst has a very big – thing between his legs,” she
began, smiling up at me.  This sounded very familiar.

“Oh,” I commented, my mind working fast.  Did I really
want to get involved with Maxi?

Next to Maxi was her friend, a Swedish girl I came to
know as Rika.  Rika was tall and so blonde that her
hair was almost white.  She had quite an attractive
face, but the most noticeable things about her were
her long legs.  They were quite thin but very shapely.
 Perhaps I might just like to get involved with Rika?

“Is it true, I mean?” asked Maxi.

“I can’t give away secrets,” I hedged, but grinned,
giving I suppose circumstantial evidence that it was

“One of the girls says she’s seen it,” continued Maxi.

I should have known Kirsty wouldn’t be able to keep
her mouth shut!  “She’d better be careful she doesn’t
get into trouble, then,” I commented.

“No, I mean, is *that* true?” Maxi persisted.

“Look, we could – get into trouble for talking like
this,” I protested weakly.  One part of me wanted to
take this chance if it came, even to encourage it,
while the voice of common sense told me not to get
involved with any more girls I couldn’t trust.

“Will you ask Ernst for us, if he’ll show it to us as
well?” continued Maxi, ever so sweetly.

“Why don’t you ask him?” I suggested.  I was still
trying to satisfy the voice of common sense by making
all sorts of excuses, hoping to shut it up to the
point whereby I could ignore it and throw caution to
the winds.

Maxi giggled.  “Girls can’t ask boys they don’t know
for things like that,” she smiled.  “And you’re his
friend.  Roy, be a darling and ask Ernst for us, will
you?”  She laid a hand on my arm, shattering the
normal taboo which forbids boys and girls between the
ages of about eight and puberty from making any kind
of physical contact beyond the accidental, or the more
socially acceptable methods of touching such as the
pulling of hair or slapping of faces.

“I’ll try,” I agreed, and then realised I needed to do
a little more work to shut up the voice of common
sense.  “Look, I’m sure Ernst will do it, but he
always makes a condition with girls.  You have to show
him yours as well.”

Maxi giggled again.  “He’d better not make any
conditions with me,” she sniggered, acting the prima
donna already.  “But he can ask me if he wants.”  She
gave me a push.  “Go and ask him now.”

I duly went to find Ernst.  His reaction was
predictable.  “It’s the same conditions as before,” he
said, trying to hide the light shining out of his eyes
at the prospect of seeing Maxi naked.  “And I don’t
want any silly girls laughing again, or else they can
forget it.”  But the attraction of Maxi certainly made
him willing to take the risk.

I went back with the message as usual.  “Just like I
said, he says you must show him yours,” I told her. 
“And Rika, if she comes.”

Rika, a bit to my surprise because she seemed a shy
girl, nodded.  But I later came to realise that Swedes
tend to look differently at nudity.

“He doesn’t make conditions with me,” Maxi said
firmly, though still playing it sweetly.  “He may ask
me if he wants, but he doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“All right, he asks that you’ll – show him yours,” I
altered the script.

“He can ask me himself when he sees me,” Maxi said
snootily, ignoring the fact that she had insisted on
asking him through a go-between and now demanded that
Ernst ask her directly.

“And one more thing,” I added.  “He says if – either
of you screams or laughs” I just stopped myself from
adding ‘or tries to chop it off’ “when you see it, he
stops straight away.  Okay?”

“Of course we won’t!” protested Maxi indignantly. 
“All right, if he’s ready, let’s go, then.”

“Now, you mean?” I asked, surprised at the speed of it
all.  Glancing around, though, I saw all the other
campers going off for their free time, mostly to the

“Of course,” insisted Maxi.  “Where can we go?”

(To be continued)


It was only about five minutes later when Ernst and I,
trying to hold back our excitement, made our way to
the little secret cave that was now our headquarters
for clandestine meetings.  We told the girls to watch
us from a distance and then follow us slowly, so
nobody would see us together and suspect us of any
illegal activities.  I had told Maxi I would also be
in on the act and playing my part, and she didn’t

It took a few minutes of waiting before we finally saw
the tiny Maxi and the tall Rika making their way
towards us from the direction of the girls’ tents.  I
couldn’t imagine what they had gone there for, and
just hoped it wasn’t to boast to the other girls. 
When they had come close enough to see where we were
going, we wandered casually over towards our hiding

We scrambled down inside and awaited the two girls,
trying to get used to what seemed almost like darkness
after the brilliant sunlight.  But it was not really
dark inside, just the contrast that made it seem that
way, and after a couple of minutes we could see as
well as outside.

We were still adjusting when the girls let themselves
down into the cave.  I saw a short pair of legs
appear, with something white at the top.  I couldn’t
quite distinguish any detail yet, but forced myself to
be patient – I would be able to see all I wanted of
Maxi’s panties in a few minutes’ time.  Then Rika’s
long slim legs appeared as she slithered in after

Maxi seemed much more composed than Kirsty and Susan
had been, putting her head on one side and smiling at
Ernst as she said hello to him in her most charming
way.  I then began to go through the programme,
wondering if we would need to start with just
underwear or whether Maxi would want to jump in at the
deep end.  “Look, I’ll go first,” I said.  “Then you
girls can do it, and Ernst does it at the end.”

Maxi interrupted me with a flap of the hand.  “No, no,
we’ll do it my way, I’m organising it,” she told us
sweetly but bossily.  “Ernst, I believe you have
something to show us?”  I almost broke into laughter
at her silly affected film-star manner.

It was rather wasted on Ernst.  “Has Roy told you the
conditions?” he asked her.

“I don’t make conditions,” Maxi shrugged.  “I just
want to see if it’s true what the other girls say.”

“Look, if I show you, you must show me yours,” said
Ernst firmly.  “I’ve had girls try to mess me around
before, so I don’t do it any more without these
conditions Roy’s told you about.”

“I told you, I don’t make conditions,” repeated Maxi,
turning her shoulder towards Ernst.  “Now I’ve asked
you to show me and Roy says you’ve agreed.  Then it’s
Roy’s turn.  If I like what I see, we can go from

“No,” objected Ernst, getting annoyed.  He always did
have rather a caveman attitude towards girls and,
attracted though he was to Maxi’s looks, I could tell
he was most unimpressed with Maxi’s arrogance.  “Roy
told you – he goes first, then you two, and then I do

“That is not the way I plan,” Maxi told him coolly.

“Well, you can piss off then!” Ernst snorted in
disgust.  He turned on his heel, scrambled out through
the entrance and disappeared, leaving the three of us
inside feeling rather shocked.

I looked at Maxi.  She was standing there with her
mouth open, but as soon as she saw me looking at her,
she composed herself and smiled.  “My, he’s so
strong,” she smiled.  I presume she meant ‘forceful’,
if she had known the word.  “Roy, tell him to come

I hesitated.  Maybe that was the way to deal with
Maxi, to be forceful and not allow her to dominate. 
“Tell him yourself,” I retorted.  “I’m not your

I realised straight away that it wasn’t realistic to
expect her to tell Ernst herself, not at that moment
anyway, and I might have to back down on that one. 
She too must have been thinking, as she was quiet for
a moment.  Then she said slowly but deliberately,
“Roy, I – think Ernst has - misunderstood me.  Would
you please be a dear and tell - ask him to come back
so we can – discuss things?”

This sounded more reasonable.  I agreed and scrambled
outside, wondering where Ernst would have gone.  I
think he had been expecting me, as he came out from
behind a bush about 20 metres away and grinned as I
walked over to him.  “Is she sorry yet?” he asked me. 
I realised that he had read Maxi better than I had.

“Yes, but she won’t say so,” I answered.  “She says
you misunderstood her, and wants you to go back so she
can boss you around again.  Or she says discuss

“All right,” shrugged Ernst, with his deceptively
dopey look.  He went ahead of me back to the cave and
scrambled inside, while I followed.

“Thank you, Ernst,” I heard Maxi say as I landed
inside again.  “Ernst, I think you misunderstood me. 
I just wanted to discuss how we were going to do it. 
If Roy wants to take part, he can do it first.  You
said you wanted to be last?”

“Yes, I’ll do it last so I know you won’t cheat me,”
replied Ernst, always the caveman rather than the

“Ernst, we won’t cheat you,” Maxi assured him in her
sweetest, most tinkling voice.  “All right, we’re not
scared.  We’ll do it next, and you can do it at the
end if you’re shy.”

“I’m not shy, I just don’t like being cheated,” said
Ernst, clutching his belt, and I thought for a moment
he was going to pull his shorts down on the spot and
prove he wasn’t shy.  “And that order is what we were
saying all the time.”

“You just didn’t understand me properly,” Maxi told
him sweetly, without explaining what she meant.  Since
we had got agreement on that point, I wasn’t going to
argue it any further.

I decided that I should let the girls – or rather
Maxi, since Rika was very much a sleeping partner –
resolve the problem I had been pondering.  “All right,
Roy, you can start,” Maxi permitted me graciously.

“Do you want – just to do underwear first?  Or the
whole lot?” I asked.

Maxi smiled, and I guessed that maybe she hadn’t
thought of doing it in stages.  “Oh – just underwear
first,” she said.

“And remember, nobody must laugh or – or say silly
things,” I said, speaking as if for myself instead of

“Oh, of course not,” snorted Maxi, suddenly getting
bossy again.  Then she smiled and said more softly,
“All right, you can go now, Roy.”

I put my hands on the waist of my shorts and pulled
them down to my knees, revealing my white underpants. 
Maxi stared, smiling, and then said, “Aren’t you going
to take your shorts off?  And your shirt?”

It looked as if she wanted the whole thing.  I stepped
out of my shorts and removed my shirt, until I was
wearing nothing but my underpants.

I felt slight uncomfortable as Maxi looked me up and
down.  Rika didn’t appear particularly interested in
my body.  Then I said, “Now it’s your turn, Maxi.”

Maxi’s confidence dipped slightly.  “Rika’s doing it
first,” she said, passing the buck.  “Come on, Rika.”

“I don’t mind,” said Rika quietly with her Swedish
accent.  She undid the belt of her light blue dress
and then unbuttoned her dress at the front.  In a
moment she was stepping out of it, wearing only a tiny
pair of pink panties, small enough to reveal the top
of her groin.  I could now see the full length of her
awesome long legs.  Her body was thin enough to show
her ribs.  She was wearing no bra, with her little
breasts about the size of a large coin and sticking up
like little rounded pyramids.

She stood simply before us without trying to hide
herself, and I suddenly realised that, although she
was lightly tanned, she had very indistinct tan lines,
even to the edge of her panties.  The outline of her
school swimming costume was just visible, but
otherwise she looked to have an all-over tan.

“Now it’s you, Maxi,” put in Ernst, obviously eager to
get moving.

“I don’t mind,” smiled Maxi kittenishly, although I
suspected she was a little more shy than Rika.  She
was wearing a white top, again thin enough to give a
glimpse of her bra underneath at the back, and a
patterned skirt.  First she slipped off her top,
showing a frilly little bra underneath that looked
quite flat at the front.

Then she unbuttoned her skirt at the side and slipped
out of it.  Underneath she was wearing frilly lace
panties, very revealing.  It was one of those pairs of
panties that showed flesh through the material without
revealing any detail inside, although I could see the
colour almost down to the crotch.  If thongs had been
around in our country in those days, no doubt she
would have worn those.  Suddenly I guessed why she
went back to her tent before coming up to the cave. 
It must have been to change into a sexier pair of

Maxi looked at us both with a sly smile on her face. 
“Hey, that’s sexy,” Ernst could not resist saying. 
Maxi looked pleased, although I guessed there was a
touch of embarrassment as well.  Even the most brash
textiles seem to feel awkward taking their clothes
off, and in an unfamiliar situation even a naturist
like myself does not feel as free.

It took me a few seconds to take in any more details,
as I had been concentrating on her panties.  She was
not exactly fat, but her front was still in the
little-girl rounded shape and her ribs were well
covered and invisible.

“Now you,” Maxi smiled at Ernst.  He obliged, removing
his shirt and shorts, and the nakedness of the rest of
his body seemed to emphasise how out of place his
full-sized underpants seem when the modern trend is
for briefs, whether male or female.  In his case,
though, it was necessary, as he would have been
extremely cramped for space inside a pair of briefs.

We stood there, smiling rather foolishly and looking
at each other in our underwear.  Maxi kept staring at
the huge knobbly lump in Ernst’s underpants with naked
curiosity.  A noise from two boys outside made us
start and reach convulsively towards our clothes, but
they passed by without knowing the cave, or ourselves,
were there.

“Are you ready now, Roy?” Maxi asked sweetly.  “The
final act.”

“All right,” I grinned, trying to act casual.  I
pulled down my underpants, taking them off this time. 
My still small, still hairless penis popped into view.
 I stood up and tried to look unaffected.  Maxi was
looking at my genitals with a small smile on her face.

“Now I suppose it is me?” asked Rika.  Within a second
she was slipping out of her pink panties and tossing
them to one side.  Her vaginal area was smooth and
lightly tanned, tanned enough to show up the little
rows of tiny fair hairs along the side of her vagina
itself and at the top.  The vaginal lips folded over
smoothly inside the slit, but I could not tell from my
angle of vision whether it was possible to see inside.

Ernst looked her up and down, fortunately keeping
himself from licking his lips.  Then he turned to Maxi
and looked at her expectantly.  She gave a small
giggle and wriggle, again showing that secretly she
wasn’t as comfortable and assured as she pretended.

Then she smiled with all the assurance that she could
muster and began to show off.  She put her hands on
the waistline of her panties and slowly began to move
them from side to side, slithering them slowly
downwards all the time.  She had a considerable tan
line and the flesh underneath her panties was very

Slowly her panties creased downwards until the
depression of her loins, with little blue veins
running through, appeared, the two points of the
entire area which comes in the shape of a V.  Her eyes
gleamed at us.  “Boys would die for what you are about
to see,” she smirked, trying to act nonchalant.

Then she turned round, with the top of her bottom and
the top of the crack in her bottom now visible.  She
was trying to be as sexy and alluring as possible. 
Again she wriggled, pulling her panties down until the
main bulge of her bottom appeared, and then far enough
to expose the whole of her smooth white backside. 
Then she slickly slipped her panties down her legs,
stepped out of them and turned to face us with arms
spread out to the side, as if to say, “Here I am,
aren’t I lovely?”  But a smothered giggle gave her

Her little rounded tummy gave a slight roll of flesh
before descending to her loins.  The pubic mound,
hardly visible with Rika, was quite prominent with
Maxi, and her little vagina, with well-rounded white
lips, stood out clearly until it curved away under her
crotch.  I thought a tiny sliver of clitoris was just
visible inside.  There was no sign of any hair growth.

Maxi looked very pleased with herself.  Then, with a
wide smile, she pointed a finger at Ernst and said,
“Now it’s you.  Let’s see if you’re as – as big as
they say.”

“There’s still your bra,” Ernst pointed out.

“That doesn’t matter, we’re not doing that,” replied

“Hey, naked means naked,” insisted Ernst.  “I’m not
doing any more until you’ve finished.”

Maxi stared at him, and I could see her mind whirling.
 I thought for a moment she was going to make a
petulant protest.  Then she seemed to give in.  She
looked from him to me and then back again.  “Remember
this is all a secret,” she told us.  “You promise not
to tell anybody about all this.”  I thought she was
about to say she was not in a position to handle
hundreds of requests.

“Of course,” we both agreed, and I added, “You promise

Maxi gave her promise, for what it was worth, and then
reluctantly slipped out of her bra.  There were
actually signs of sunburn underneath, suggesting she
had been trying out an unaccustomed topless sunbathe
recently, but that was about all that could be seen. 
Her chest area looked slightly rounded, as it often
does with girls who are well padded, but the nipples
were smaller than mine.  There was no evidence of
puberty at all – and it later struck me that this was
the connection with the promise she extracted from us.
 She didn’t want us going round telling everybody that
Maxi wore a bra that was totally wasted on her.

Ernst gave his dopey grin and peeled off his
underpants.  His penis came swinging down and kept
swinging as it dangled in front of them.  Rika looked
surprised, but it was Maxi who rather like Kirsty gave
a squeal and jumped back, hands pressed to her chest
rather than her mouth.  “Ooh, Ernst!” she squealed. 
“That is – a monster!”

Ernst grinned in pleasure as Maxi stared at it in awe,
open-mouthed.  He obviously enjoyed her admiration. 
“Oh, Ernst,” Maxi began again, then giggled, but in
astonishment so Ernst was not offended.  “Mickey must
be so jealous!  He keeps saying he’s got a big one,
but – he can’t make his that big even when it’s

Ernst looked even more pleased to be classified as far
superior to Mickey.  Then Maxi put out her hand to
touch it, and Ernst pushed it away.  “No touching,” he
told her.

“Make it stiff for me, then,” pleaded Maxi.  “Come on,
Ernst, I want to see it when it’s hard.  When you’re a
real *man*.”

“What are you going to do for me, then?” bargained

Maxi thought for a moment, and then smiled.  “I’ll
show you inside,” she offered, putting her fingers on
her plump little vagina and making as if to spread it
apart.  Ernst nodded, and then she said, “We’ll all do
it.  Come on, Roy, you do it first.”

I wasn’t too sure I liked that idea.  I had never
masturbated in public before – in fact, the only time
I have ever masturbated much at all was just after I
reached puberty for about a year or two.  Then I grew
bored with it and have hardly done it since.

But I couldn’t really pull out now, and the rewards
offered me were great.  So I nodded, took hold of my
penis, minute compared to Ernst’s, and began shaking
it up and down.  Slowly it began to get longer, then
harder.  I kept pumping and concentrated my eyes on
the bodywork of the two girls in front of me for
inspiration.  Steadily it stiffened, lengthened and
lifted.  I kept pumping until it was rock-solid and
pointing towards my chin.

Neither of the girls seemed unduly interested in my
penis, though.  Rika, being Swedish, was probably used
to anything to do with nudity, while Maxi presumably
had seen Mickey’s longer penis perform the trick on
numerous occasions.  I wondered what other tricks she
had seen Mickey’s penis do.

“Me now,” said Rika willingly.  She bent her knees,
thrust her hips forward, placed her fingers on the
lips of her vagina and pulled them apart.  She did not
have a wide vagina, but when she spread it I could see
her white clitoris revealed down the middle, with what
seemed like thin lines of tissue on either side.  I
noticed that Ernst’s penis was beginning to rise
slightly of its own accord, and resisted the
temptation to tell him jokingly to wait because it
wasn’t his turn yet.

Maxi gave her cat-like smile again.  She kept her
knees straight but spread them apart, pushed her hips
forward, and then like Rika put her fingers on her
vagina lips and pulled them apart.  Her clitoris was
so clearly visible that it was like a tiny penis
hanging down.  The rest of the interior was juicy and

Then she turned her smile on Ernst.  Most of the work
had already been done untouched by human hands. 
Ernst’s penis by now was almost horizontal, and it
took only a few more pumps for him to get it pointing
skywards.  “May I touch it now?” she asked him

“If I can touch yours,” responded Ernst.

“Oh, yes, we can all do that,” smiled Maxi.  “We can
touch each other and Rika and Roy can touch each other
as well.  If they want.”

She reached out her hand and put it thoughtfully on
Ernst’s bulging penis.  “Come on, sit down,” he told
her.  Giggling, she moved her skirt and sat on it,
spreading her legs apart to open her vagina again for

I looked at Rika.  She smiled shyly at me.  I have
never been keen on having girls laying hands on my
penis.  I would, though, have liked to investigate
Rika, but didn’t know how she would feel about it.

She nodded.  But just at that moment, there was a long
blast on the whistle, far away but clear.  We all
jumped and stared at each other, transformed in a
split second from bold sexual explorers to startled
children frightened of being caught doing something

“Quick!  We must get back!” I exclaimed, panicking and
leaping for my clothes.

Maxi recovered most quickly.  Being who she was, she
had no doubt gained confidence that she could avoid
trouble better than most people.  “We don’t have to
rush,” she reminded me.  “That’s a pain.  Ernst, we’ll
have to meet some other time.”

Quickly we scrambled into our clothes, with Maxi
refusing to be rushed.  “We girls will go first, and
then you boys wait until we’re out of sight before you
go,” she instructed us.

“We’re ready and you’re not,” I told her, trying to be
forceful.  “You can come when you’re ready.”  Ernst
and I scrambled out and headed for the meeting place
at full speed.

It was only our guilt that had made us hurry, because
there was plenty of time.  We quickly slowed down and
sauntered in with the others, hearts thumping inside
us as we were sure everybody must be able to read our
thoughts or our faces.  But nobody seemed to notice
anything odd, and the guilty feelings subsided.

Our volleyball match against the Eagles is best
forgotten, although our defeat was not as heavy as our
football defeat had been.  Mickey was again giving
instructions bossily while doing little himself apart
from getting in the way, and I grinned as I wondered
what he would say if he knew what Ernst and I, his
sworn enemies, had been getting up to with his sister.
 As before, Kirsty and Susan showed their reluctance
to take part but then persisted in getting in
everyone’s way on court.

Tessa as usual gave it her best shot, but she was
rather too small for a game like this.  Every time she
did something useful, I came out with, “Well done,
Tessa” or “Good shot, Tessa,” just to prove to her and
everybody else that I had no interest in her. 
Strangely, it didn’t work, except with Tessa!  She
ignored me most of the time, but occasionally did give
me a very brief, small, shy smile.  Did she dislike me
a bit or was she just shy?

Then we followed the usual routine, with showers, a
swim and supper.  After supper we had the first part
of our evening entertainment, with each tent putting
on a skit to entertain the others, followed by a
singsong.  Then we returned to our tents to change
into our pyjamas - I wore a tighter pair of shorts
this time as I thought it best to keep exposure to the
cave – before returning for our cocoa and bedtime

Kirsty hadn’t spoken to me since that episode in the
cave.  I wasn’t unduly bothered, but I did wonder why.
 I suspect now that it was simply that she thought I
was in love with her and was playing me along, waiting
for me to make the next move.  She now went around as
if I didn’t exist, though when I came near her in
order really to be near Tessa, she quietly moved away,
and Susan and Tessa would go with her.  She was
probably hoping for a big gesture from me, which was
most frustrating, as she was messing up my chances
with Tessa.  So it was that I did not have any further
chance to make contact with Tessa that day.

The next morning followed the usual pattern to begin
with.  After breakfast and tidy-up, we had our
rounders match against the Eagles, which meant we were
wiped out again.  I suppose it was easiest to draw up
a programme with the same two teams meeting at all
four sports before moving on to play other teams, but
if we had to get thrashed every time it would have
been easier to get thrashed by a different team each
time, instead of the gloating Eagles every time.

The sports did give me a better chance to talk to
Tessa, though, even if she still didn’t respond much. 
I gave her the benefit of my limited knowledge of
batting tactics when we were batting, but didn’t have
much chance in the field as I was put on third base
and Tessa, the only girl to be considered worthy of a
place on the bases, on first base.  She did quite a
good job and could certainly catch well.

There was one amusing – or infuriating – incident when
a batter hit a ball towards Kirsty, who was lurking in
the outfield and trying to hide behind second base. 
It wasn’t too hard a hit, but she couldn’t get out of
the way, gallantly though she tried.  The ball bounced
immediately in front of her as she turned her head
away, and then somehow bounced straight up her skirt. 
She squealed and clutched herself, apparently trapping
the ball, but was unable to free it.  As she struggled
with it, the whole team yelling at her, it dropped
out, she trod on it and fell over.

In the meantime the batter had completed a home run. 
Our team didn’t know whether to laugh or shout at
Kirsty, and most of us did both.  Lisa thought it was
funny more than anything, and called out, “Kirsty, you
can’t catch the ball in your knickers, you know.”

This caused more laughter, but when I looked at Kirsty
I could tell she was trying not to cry.  Immediately I
felt her vulnerability and shouted out, “Come on,
that’s enough, let’s get on with the game.”  I turned
away without trying to see if Kirsty would flash a
grateful glance at me.  At the age of 10 I hadn’t yet
got it all together in handling situations like this,
though moments later I wished I had been able to
exchange smiles with her.  Then she might give me a
better chance of getting through to Tessa . . .

After games and drinks we were to go on an outing,
about which we had known since the first day.  So we
were to have no free time that morning, although this
time there were no girls queuing up for Ernst’s
services.  We were to visit the local branch of the
Natural Culture Centre, or whatever it is called in
the local language.  This was mainly for tourists, but
I suppose it was of some educational interest to us
expatriates as well.  We had to go back to our tents
and change into our smartest clothes for the visit,
and this meant girls wearing dresses or skirts.

In local culture females are still generally looked
down upon if they wear shorts or trousers, although
many in the urban centres are starting to do that more
often, in line with world trends.  For me, I have
always enjoyed the beauty and elegance of girls in
shapely skirts or dresses, so I regret the growing
‘dumbing-down’ of feminine clothing – if it can now be
termed feminine at all.  I was particularly interested
to see what Tessa would look like.

As we gathered at the bus, I kept a lookout for Tessa,
at the same time noting certain other girls who had
looked real tomboys so far on camp but were now into
dresses for the first time.  Finally I saw her coming
from the girls’ tents, along with Kirsty and Susan,
who always wore dresses anyway.  Tessa was wearing a
simple dark blue skirt with a white T-shirt and looked
for the first time properly a girl.

I had deliberately placed myself on the side of the
girls’ tents in the hope that I might intercept them
as they came up, but Kirsty again led her friends
around the side, away from me and clearly deliberately
avoiding me.  I felt this was rather hard after I had
tried to stand up for her during rounders, though to
be fair she might not have heard me or realised I was
doing that.  But I didn’t realise that she was just
playing hard to get, or so she thought.

We scrambled on to the bus, and I was able to check
out Tessa’s panties straight away.  She was again
sitting behind Kirsty and Susan, but somebody had
apparently trodden on her sandal so, like a
five-year-old, she lifted a knee to adjust her sandal,
showing plain but attractive white panties of the sort
she had shown at the slide the previous day.

I was unable to find a seat near her, but Ernst was
already seated and calling to me to join him.  The bus
ride took just over half an hour, and this time,
having settled into camp, we sang a lot of the time on
our way there.  We had a tour and a series of mini
lectures about local culture, and near the end we went
into a large hall to watch a local dance exhibition.

These dances looked simple and exciting, with men
seeming to enjoy them as much as the women.  I was
secretly wishing I could try them out.  It came with a
sudden thrill, then, when the woman who was guiding us
round turned to Miss Tate and asked if the children
would like to try it now.

Many of us expressed pleasure, but we hadn’t realised
the implications – boys and girls would have to dance
in pairs, and we hadn’t quite reached the stage in our
development where that was permissible in the company
of our peers.

Miss Tate, in charge, accepted the offer on behalf of
us all, but she did not handle it well.  “All right,
children,” she trilled.  “First of all, we – how do we
start?” she asked, turning to the tour guide.  “Oh,
always the boys?  All right.  Boys, you must all
choose a girl as your partner now.”

With most boys our age, this proposal naturally went
down like a lead balloon.  While many of us might
secretly like the idea, we had not yet reached the
stage where we were prepared to admit it.  There was a
sort of muffled communal groan of protest from us
boys, and no movement whatever to take up the offer.

The leaders quickly set us an example.  Lloyd grabbed
Tara by the arm and led her out on to the floor, while
Kevin immediately did the same with the blushing
Wendy.  The other leaders also paired off, while in
the meantime a few of the more liberated girls who
still liked him tried to catch Mickey’s eye.  He for
one seemed willing to get started, looking round
eagerly, but I guessed that the girl he would have
preferred to partner was no longer interested in him
after his comments on the football field the previous

I stood there, feeling my cheeks burning and glancing
towards Tessa, who was only about three metres from
me.  She was not looking in my direction.  I wanted
very much to go over and seize her before anybody else
beat me to it.  Not that I saw much evidence of that
happening.  Maxi caught my eye, but I quickly realised
that it was actually Ernst’s eye she had been aiming
for.  But I had no wish to dwell on this at that

32 boys stood there in dumb embarrassment, waiting for
one of their own number to take the initiative.  Like
many others, no doubt, I would have gone with Tessa if
only somebody else had gone first.  Somehow the
officers didn’t quite count.

“Oh, come on, don’t be so silly,” chided Miss Tate,
just making matters worse.  “There’s a partner for
everybody, boys, so hurry up, or else we’ll let the
girls choose, or just pair you off with anybody.”

“Perhaps we can just start the music and they can join
in as soon as they’re ready,” suggested Kevin more

“Oh – er – all right, then,” agreed Miss Tate.  She
turned to the tour guide, who immediately called for
an exciting, catchy local tune to be played.

This gave me a bit more courage.  Looking round, I saw
some of the other boys were slowly on the move,
several of them towards Maxi, who in turn was on the
move towards Ernst.  I sensed Kirsty, next to Tessa,
was looking at me, perhaps experimenting with
telepathy, but Tessa wasn’t looking at me at all.  I
gently took her by the wrist, and she looked up at me
in surprise.

Nowadays I would teasingly have said something like,
“Excuse me, Madam, but may I have the pleasure of this
dance?”  I wasn’t mature enough then, though, so I
just blushed furiously and asked, “Shall we – go?”

Tessa stared at me, then seemed to blush slightly,
smiled and nodded her head.  Feeling highly
embarrassed, I led her on to the dance floor,
encouraged only by the sight of two or three other
boys who had decided to take the plunge with their

It’s difficult to dance when you feel so embarrassed,
but gradually I got down to it and began to enjoy
myself.  Tessa obviously did as well.  She was soon
laughing from delight, as in the exuberant way of the
locals we were dodging each other and swinging each
other round by the arm.  I sensed rather than saw
other pairs pluck up their courage and take the
plunge, and after a few minutes the dance floor became
rather crowded.

We went into the second dance, and by now more than
half of us children were dancing and enjoying it,
while the others stood by looking like spare parts and
no doubt wishing they had the courage.  Again it was
lively, a bit too lively, perhaps.  As we were
dancing, one of the bigger boys stepped back without
looking and trod on Tessa’s foot just as she was in
motion.  She went down with a cry, twisting her ankle
and collapsing to the ground.

“My ankle!” she cried out, sitting there in pain, one
knee in the air and panties fully exposed as she
clutched her ankle.  But now was no time to enjoy the
scenery.  She was obviously in a lot of pain, trying
not to cry.  She tried to struggle to her feet but
could not put any weight on her leg.

Somebody else almost trod on her, and I saw she needed
to get over to the side out of the action.  I went
behind her, grasped her round the shoulders and under
the knees and heaved her up into my arms.  “Thanks,
Roy,” she gasped, amid pain.

She was not very heavy, and I carried her for about
two metres.  Then, to my fury, Trevor had seen what
was happening and barged in, taking her from my arms
and carrying her off himself.  I felt furious and
frustrated.  Couldn’t these older people lay off and
let me play the hero just once?

Trevor sat Tessa on a chair and examined her ankle,
while I stood by glowering.  Tessa was paying
attention to him, telling him where it hurt, but he
didn’t seem to have too much idea what to do about it.
 He should have left it to me – not that I had much
idea what to do practically either.  Then Wendy came
over and had a look.  She dashed off somewhere and
came back in a couple of minutes with a cloth wrapped
around ice, which she in turn wrapped around Tessa’s
ankle.  It all seemed to me rather too much fuss.

Finally they seemed to decide she would live, and left
her with promises to be back.  She had long since been
surrounded by Kirsty and other girls, though, giving
me very little chance to get close to her, with no
opportunity at all to put my arm round her, talk
lovingly to her and kiss her better – although
naturally my fantasies were working overtime.  The
only good thing about it was that it gave me an excuse
for not actually doing it, apart from shyness.

After a few minutes there seemed to be a communal
female decision by Leigh’s supporters to retreat to
that well-known long-term communal female sanctuary,
the toilet.  Laughing and struggling, they hoisted
Tessa up clumsily with her arms round the shoulders of
Kirsty and Susan, and they staggered off together to
that wonderful Shangri-La.  (Or should I say
Shangri-Loo?)  None of them, not even Tessa, took any
notice of me, leaving me totally deflated.

Miserably I sat there alone while the second dance
ended.  I noticed that Ernst was dancing with Maxi –
well, he was welcome to her – and also with interest
Mickey, a flighty female in tow, deliberately moving
next to her and saying something angrily into her ear.
 She shrugged her shoulders and carried on dancing
with Ernst.

The second dance stopped and the tour guide announced
that there would be one for us.  I look around,
totally disgruntled, and couldn’t see any girl I
fancied to dance with.  Nowadays I would have made the
best of a bad job and found a shy wallflower to make
happy, but right then I was both too depressed and too
shy to do that.

Then suddenly a pair of shapely legs appeared in front
of me and I looked up.  Wendy, taking a break from
Kevin, was looking down at me and smiling sweetly,
asked me, “Roy, that’s such a pity Tessa was hurt. 
Will you take me instead?”

Well, this was different!  I tried unsuccessfully not
to blush as I smiled at her and thanked her.  She held
out her arm to me, and we went on to the dance floor
together.  She was great fun and knew how to do it
well.  We were both laughing and panting when the
dance finally finished.  Again I tried my best to
behave like a man, I thought, and thanked her as we
cleared the floor.

I headed for Tessa, who had returned and was sitting
among her friends.  As I approached, though, I saw
them all turn and crane their heads somewhere over to
the left.  I turned and had a look as well, as I could
hear loud, angry voices.

Mickey and Maxi were the participants.  I learned
later that Mickey had said something to her as she
left the floor with Ernst, and she had told him to
shut up.  As he responded, she slapped his face and
shouted at him.  He tried to hit her, but she rained
down slaps on his arm.  The leaders were already
beginning to head for the scene of conflict, and
almost with one accord Tessa’s inquisitive friends
rose and scuttled over to gain ringside seats.  Tessa
was suddenly left alone, as she sat there with one leg
out in front of her and legs revealingly apart.

I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.  I sat down
beside her and gained her immediate attention.  She
wasn’t particularly interested in the catfight.  I
asked her how her ankle was, and she said it wasn’t
too bad but it was hard to walk.  I kept talking while
the film twins were almost forcibly separated by Kevin
and Lisa, surrounded by fascinated spectators.  Miss
Tate was leaving it to them, trying instead to sweep
the children towards the door for the restaurant where
we were to have our lunch.

I made a courageous decision.  “Come on, Tessa, let’s
get a good seat in the restaurant,” I told her,
standing up and crouching down in front of her.  “Get
on my back and I’ll carry you there.”

“All right,” she smiled with a giggle, her eyes
lighting up with what looked like amusement.  She
leaned forward, wrapping her arms around my neck.  As
I pushed myself to my feet, I felt her legs pushing at
my side and I tucked my arms round them.  I struggled
to push myself upright, but managed, and then headed
for the restaurant.  She breathed into my ear those
three little words every boy loves to hear: “Gee,
you’re strong.”

Too embarrassed to look at anybody else, I entered the
restaurant, headed for a table by the window and
backed to a chair, letting Tessa down gently on to it.
 She thanked me shyly as I took my seat next to her. 
There were only a few other children in there yet,
persuaded inside by Miss Tate.

I was busy chatting to her when the others began to
come in, shepherded in by Miss Tate and the leaders. 
They were noisy and excited after the impromptu
sawdust-weight boxing match between the twins that
they had just witnessed.  The twins did not join us
yet, as Kevin kept them outside to have a few words
with them.

There were four seats at the table, and quickly Kirsty
came flapping over to join us, followed by Susan. 
“Ooh, Tessa, Roy, that was so exciting!” she
exclaimed, forgetting that she was supposed to be
ignoring me.  “They were so cross!  I wonder what they
were fighting about!”  I could have made a good guess,
but kept quiet.

Miss Tate was trying to quieten everybody down, but
without much success.  Lunch was taken in a noisy,
excited atmosphere, with local food, tasty and
otherwise, comprising the menu.  Our table of four was
excitedly discussing the twins still, with Kirsty
doing 90 per cent of the talking and Susan the rest. 
Neither of them liked Maxi (“she’s so stuck-up”), and
they had now found out what Mickey was like, so she
was very critical of them both.

After about five minutes Kevin came in with the twins,
both of whom were still looking quite upset, and there
was a moment’s silence as everybody craned their necks
to see what would happen.  There was no privacy for
either of them as they slunk over to tables where they
thought they would be welcomed, only to be bombarded
with questions.  Kevin had to go over and tell the
others to leave them alone.

After lunch we returned to the bus.  As soon as the
order came to leave the restaurant, Kirsty barged in
with Susan, got Tessa to hang on to their shoulders
and helped her out to the bus.  I felt quite
frustrated, as I had been hoping to pay the hero and
carry her on my back again, but I must admit I was
also a little relieved, as carrying a girl on my back
among others of my own age was an invitation to
ridicule.  I had largely escaped it earlier because
the twins had caught all the headlines.

Should I sit next to Tessa on the bus?  Did I dare?  I
struggled with my feelings as I entered the bus some
way behind her, and decided that if she looked at me,
if she invited me, if there was nobody else next to
her, I would.  It was a coward’s way out.  I felt
sickened as I pushed my way down the aisle past
Tessa’s seat, to find Kirsty chattering away to her
from her seat in front with Susan as usual, taking all
her attention, so I passed unnoticed.  The spare seat
was there, I should have taken it, but I just
chickened out.

As soon as we returned to camp, it was the compulsory
rest period.  Mickey was rather subdued and sullen,
but he usually was now in his own tent, knowing what
we thought of him.  He did burst out in one eruption
of bitterness, though: “Let me tell you guys, Maxi has
no boobs at all.  She wears a bra but she’s got
nothing underneath it.  She just *pretends*!”  Ernst
and I already knew that, although it may have been
news to the others.

Rest was followed by preparation for our evening skit.
 Then we gathered as usual for our afternoon drinks
and biscuits.  I looked around for Tessa, but couldn’t
see her.

Kirsty was around, though, and speaking to me again. 
“Hello, Roy,” she beamed at me.  “Why didn’t you dance
with me this morning?”

I was startled.  “Well, I – I didn’t think you’d want
to,” I stammered out.  “You hadn’t spoken to me since

“You didn’t ask me,” she accused me.  “If you’d asked
me, Tessa wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“That wasn’t my fault, David wasn’t looking where he
was going,” I defended myself, but she was probably
right.  If I hadn’t chosen Tessa, she probably
wouldn’t have danced at all.  “But where is she?  I
mean, I want to see how she is.”

“Miss Winrow took her to the sick tent,” explained
Kirsty.  Miss Winrow was in charge of first aid at
camp.  “She’s going to see what she can do about it. 
I don’t know when she’ll be out again.”

I was feeling pretty depressed about the whole
situation now.  My dancing had gone wrong and now
Tessa was laid up in the sick tent and I couldn’t even
speak to her.  I had been hoping during our free time
to be able to get to know her better.  But at least I
did carry her on my back when she needed me.

“Anyway, you’ll be able to see her sometime,” Kirsty
assured me gaily.  “But for now . . .”  She drew close
and whispered in my ear, “Let’s go up to the cave

I stared at her.  She had a cunning gleam in her eye
and gave a suggestive giggle.  “But you know, you –
you laughed at Ernst last time,” I told her.  “I don’t
think he’ll do it again.  Not with you.”

“I don’t want to see Ernst again,” she giggled, hand
to mouth.  “His – thing, I mean.  It’s so - big and
ugly.  I meant – just us.  Not Susan, either, but just
us two.  Okay?”

I thought quickly.  I hadn’t expected this.  It would
be nice to play by the stream again.  But Tessa
wouldn’t be there.  She might be there other times,
but she wouldn’t be there this time, and I might never
have another chance with Kirsty, who might just be
exciting.  “Okay,” I finally said.

She beamed.  She had finished her drink already, but I
hadn’t.  “Look, I’ll go first, and then you come in
two minutes,” she told me, laying a hand on my arm for
a moment.  She skittered off, dress flapping, returned
her cup and then shot off in the direction of the

I gave her two minutes before following.  As I was
walking towards the cave, I noticed Ernst ahead of me,
and it took me just two seconds to realise that he was
heading for the same place by a slightly different

I jogged to catch up with him.  “Hey, Ernst, where are
you going?” I asked him.

He looked disconcerted to see me.  “Just – up to the
rocks,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

It wasn’t like Ernst to be less than open with me, and
I could almost ready him like a book by now.  I
quickly guessed what he was doing.  “Are you having
another meeting with Maxi?” I demanded.

He looked startled.  “Did she tell you?” he responded

“No, I guessed,” I told him.  “Because – because I’ve
already – I mean, Kirsty fixed up a meeting with me. 
She’s in the cave already.  Waiting for me.”

“Oh, shit!” he grumbled.  “I’m not going in with that
stupid female again.”

“Well, maybe there’s somewhere else you can go,” I
told him.  “I mean, Kirsty was there first.  She’s in
there now.”  I assumed that Maxi would be behind
Ernst, for some reason, and I happened to have guessed

He stood and looked around uncertainly.  “Well, I –
I’ll have to tell her,” he muttered.  He looked at me
crossly, and then turned round and headed back towards

I watched him go rather nervously, wondering what
would happen and afraid that Maxi might throw a fit
and demand the cave for herself.  In the event,
nothing happened, and I learned later that she knew of
a better place for two – it was too small for four –
and I gather those two had quite a few more secret
meetings before camp was over.

Feeling slightly unsettled, I continued my journey to
the cave and slithered inside.  “You took your time,”
came Kirsty’s voice from within.

“I just met Ernst.  But he’s not coming here,” I told
her, hoping it was true.  I didn’t tell her the rest
of the story.

“Sit down and let’s talk,” invited Kirsty.

As my eyes grew used to the shadows, I could see more
clearly that Kirsty lying on a pile of loose soil and
sand that she had built up, within touching distance
of me.  Her knees were up and her legs were apart. 
Her skirt was up far enough for me to see her navel. 
I didn’t think it had got all that way up by accident.

Kirsty giggled as she saw me looking at her, adding to
my suspicions.  She still wore those embroidered
panties, with a big flower in the crotch.  These were
a gentle violet colour and I found them strangely

Joining in the spirit, I lifted my bottom and slipped
my shorts down my legs, over my knees and off my legs.
 Kirsty giggled again.  “What are you doing that for?”
she asked.

“Well, that’s what you’re doing,” I pointed out.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she giggled, making it
quite clear she did.

We sat and talked for a while – or rather, Kirsty did.
 She talked about her tent, mostly, the girls there,
gossiping about them, telling me which boys they
liked, and all sorts of other secrets that they had no
doubt discussed in good faith that nobody would split
on them.  Occasionally she would ask my opinion, but
mostly she just chattered away.  I wondered where all
this was leading.

Suddenly she straightened a little and asked me, “Roy,
did – did Maxi have a meeting with you and Ernst?”

I was just about to nod my head when suddenly I
remembered my policy of secrecy.  “I – I can’t tell
about that,” I replied nervously.  Or, as I would have
said jokingly nowadays, “All our dealings with our
clients are strictly confidential.”

“Well, I think she did, because she’s whispering about
it,” said Kirsty, with a twinge of jealousy.  “She was
telling about Ernst’s – thing, and she must have seen
it.”  Obviously Maxi’s description of Ernst’s major
attribute matched Kirsty’s own observation.

“She said – you were all – quite naked in here,” went
on Kirsty.  “And when I asked Rika, she said it was
true.  And she said you’ve got an all-over suntan –
you know, hardly any lines for your swimming costume. 
So she must have seen you.”

“People need to shut up about it before the leaders
find out and there’s trouble,” I said uncomfortably.

“We only do it in private,” Kirsty assured me,
unintentionally including herself in this.  “Not when
there are leaders around.”

“But there may be a telltale there who will tell the
leaders about it, or say something the leaders will
hear,” I muttered.

“I told them they must stay quiet,” Kirsty assured me,
this time completely incriminating herself without
realising it.  I might have known she wouldn’t be able
to keep quiet about her experience.

All the time she had one hand down and was rubbing it
up and down the crotch of her panties.  I kept trying
to avoid it, but in the end I had quite a good stare
as she ran the tips of her fingers up and down over
the spot where her vagina was hiding.

She saw me and giggled.  “What are you staring at?”
she sniggered.

“Nothing,” I replied instinctively, the typical
preteen response.  And then I asked, “What are *you*

“Nothing,” she replied, and then burst into louder
giggles.  Then she added, “I often do this when I’m
just sitting.  It feels all funny.”

I grunted in reply.  Presumably she expected more of a
response, because she paused, and then asked me slyly,
looking at me from the corner of her eye, “Do you want
to try it?”

“I don’t – do that to myself,” I muttered in reply.

“No, I mean do it to *me*,” she giggled.  “It’s quite
ticklish.  I want to feel what it’s like when somebody
else does it.”

I hesitated, reluctant to get physical.  “Doesn’t –
Susan do it for you?” I asked.

“No, Susan doesn’t do it properly,” Kirsty giggled,
pulling her skirt higher to expose her white stomach. 
“Just try it.”

I did feel curious.  Against my better judgement, I
leaned forward, put out my hand and put my fingertips
on her panties, just above the crotch.  They felt soft
and silky.  Just below my fingers was the outline of a
large flower, a raised part of the same material. 
“Shall I rub the flower?” I asked.

Kirsty gave a squeal of laughter.  “My flower!” she
giggled.  “That’s what I call it sometimes – my wee,
you know.  Roy, I didn’t think you’d use a rude word
like that.”

“I didn’t know it was also called a flower,” I
protested, annoyed with embarrassment but still aware
that she was teasing me.

“Yes, just rub it with your fingers,” Kirsty told me,
lying back and folding her hands across her bare

Gently I ran my fingers downwards, over the embossed
flower and right round the corner under her crotch. 
She squirmed and giggled.  “Ooh, that feels so funny. 
That feels *good*!” she squealed, spreading her legs
wider.  “Roy, do it again.  Lots of times.”

I ran my fingers up and down over the place where her
vagina was.  I couldn’t feel it underneath the
material, which was quite thick, though soft and
smooth.  Perhaps I could just feel a slight depression
in the middle.  Kirsty wriggled and giggled, head back
and eyes shut, stuffing her fingers into her mouth to
try to smother the noise.  Then she blurted out,
“Stop!” and pushed my hand away.

I stopped.  She lay back for a moment, eyes shut, with
a beatific smile spread over her face.  Then she
opened her eyes, looked at me and giggled, face red. 
“Ooh, that felt lovely,” she exclaimed, with a shudder
of delight.  She went a little redder, looking at me
from the corner of her eye.  She stuck her fingers
over her mouth and whispered, “Roy, just once more. 
Put your finger inside and do it.”

“Inside your – your panties?”  I couldn’t believe it.

Kirsty nodded and giggled.  I hesitated, and was lost.
 Nervously I reached my hand down to the crotch of her
panties and slipped my forefinger under the hem, just
where the tendon was.  I saw the white puffy skin that
formed the outside of her vagina lips as I pushed the
elastic back, and I could feel smooth skin under my
finger, wobbling slightly when I rubbed it.

“Further up,” she told me.  Pushing my finger further
in, I moved it upwards.  I could immediately feel her
vagina, the slit under my finger, and also the light
downy hairs just beginning to grow.  My penis moved in

“Try it,” she urged me.  Fingertip on her vagina, I
began to rub up and down very gently.  “Ooh!” she
squealed, jerking suddenly.  Then she relaxed, but
still kept wriggling as my fingertip massaged the
soft, smooth, fluffy lips of her vagina inside her
panties until she eventually gasped, “Stop!  Stop

I withdrew my finger, which felt quite damp, moving it
enough to give me a glimpse of the tiny dark hairs
that were beginning to line the opening.  She lay back
panting and smiling, the material of her panties
stretched tightly over her vaginal area.  Reflectively
she stuck a finger inside, perhaps to make sure I
hadn’t messed up her hairstyle, giving me another
glimpse of the little line of down and the black slit
of her vagina itself.

“Let me do it to you now,” she said, scrambling to her

“No, it – it doesn’t work with boys,” I protested, but
she would have none of it.

“Let me try,” she insisted.  “You must be fair.”

I couldn’t really argue with that, although I have
never really liked anybody else playing with my
genitals.  Reluctantly I lay back while she crouched
beside me and put her fingers gently on the little
bulge in my underpants.  “Ooh, I can feel it,” she

Using just one finger, she ran it up and down as if
drawing a line with a pencil.  It tickled, and to my
shame I felt my penis beginning to respond.  “Ooh,
it’s wriggling!” she squealed, going into fits of
giggles, and I felt like dealing with her as Ernst had
done.  She took the end between two fingers, my
underpants providing no protection, and squeezed it
gently.  “There you are, Roy, it works even better
with boys,” she smiled at me.  Then she paused,
removed her hand and asked, “Roy, would you like me to
kiss you?”

I did find her attractive enough to like the idea, but
a ten-year-old boy may not say so.  So I just replied
gruffly, “If you like.”

Faced with such overwhelming enthusiasm, she paused,
and then said, “All right.”  She bent her face towards
mine and gave me a rather sticky kiss next to my ear. 
She crouched there beaming at me, her face flushed. 
Then she asked, “Are you going to give me one?”

“If you like,” I replied again.  Then I decided to
hold out for a little more.  “But I – I don’t like
doing it with clothes on,” I said.

It was pretty feeble, but Kirsty bought it, perhaps
because she had that end in view anyway – no pun
intended!  “Everything, you mean?” she checked, hand
to mouth and face red.  I nodded.

“All right,” she sniggered.  “But you go first.”

I slipped out of my shirt and then told her, “Your

During our previous session, we had not ventured into
the top half of the body, and she was a bit
disconcerted.  Even the bottom part had been done very
quickly, by Kirsty at least.  She gave a shudder and
involuntarily pressed her elbows and forearms close to
her chest.  “No, you finish it first,” she told me.

“That’s not the way we’ve been playing it,” I told
her.  “Come on, you do it now and then I’ll finish

She gulped, and then, still crouching, she undid her
buttons and slipped her dress off over her head.  Her
chest was white and freckled.  She didn’t wear a bra,
telling me later it was ‘too hot’.  Her breasts were
only just beginning, soft little dull pink areolas,
about the size of a large coin, sticking out like tiny
pyramids with little button nipples on the end.

“My boobies aren’t very big,” she murmured with
embarrassment, trying the old art of

“They look pretty, though,” I assured her, and she
looked dubious.

“Maxi won’t show us her boobies, so I don’t think she
has any,” Kirsty said, looking down as if examining
her own.  “Even though she wears a bra.  She never
takes it off so we can see.  And Tessa looks just like
a boy still.”  Then she suddenly looked at me and
spoke eagerly.  “Did you see Maxi’s boobies?  Does she
have any?”

“It’s all private,” I reminded her with reluctance,
shaking my head.  After all, if I told her about Maxi,
she would immediately suspect I would tell others
about her as well.

Kirsty gave a sigh.  Then she said, “Come on, now,
it’s your turn.  Finish off.”

I duly lifted my bottom from my seating position and
pulled off my underpants, as I had done with my
shorts.  I slipped my shorts under my bottom to sit on
while Kirsty, hand to mouth as usual and trying not to
giggle, examined my penis.

“It’s much better looking than Ernst’s,” she told me,
perhaps in response to my compliment about her tiny
breasts.  “His is – a monster.  I just wanted to see
if – if it was really as big as – as people were
saying.  But it’s ugly.  Yours is just small and – and

I wasn’t sure I liked the ‘small’ bit, but it
certainly was small by comparison with Ernst’s.  “Your
turn now,” I reminded her.

She looked cunningly at me.  “All right,” she said. 
“But first you must tell me about Maxi’s boobies.”

I suppose the easy way out would have been to tell her
I never saw them, but outright lies don’t come easily
with me.  We had an argument, but Kirsty remained
adamant that she would not budge unless I told her. 
So I found a way out.  With my palm flat and facing my
chest, I moved my hand straight up and down to
indicate flatness.

“Is that Maxi?” Kirsty queried.

“I can’t tell you,” I grinned, but made it pretty
obvious that it was.

Kirsty smiled and sat on her dress.  Nervously she
leaned back, lifted her bottom and slid her panties
off.  I first saw the crack in her bottom and then,
between her legs, the little bulge of skin that was
her perineum, with the vagina at the top of it. 
Keeping her legs together, she slid her panties over
her knees and then off over her feet.  Then she tucked
her knees under her chin and sat there with her legs
together, only the tiny bulge of her perineum visible.
 She grinned at me.

“I can’t see anything there,” I grinned back at her.

“You were going to kiss me, remember?” she reminded me

“All right,” I agreed, rolling over and leaning
towards her with my penis dangling down.  As I leaned
towards her, she opened her legs and I put my head
between her knees to give her a kiss on the cheek.

She gave me a big smile with burning cheeks.  “You
kiss nicely,” she told me, giving me one in return.  I
didn’t tell her that I had had plenty of practice and
I was looking forward to serving Tessa in the same

I moved back to my place, looking down at her vagina. 
There were those tiny dark brown hairs with the touch
of deep red that I had just felt on either side,
smaller than the hairs on her arms.  Then there were a
few straggling strands of the same colour at the top.

Kirsty saw my gaze and giggled.  “You don’t have any
hairs yet,” she teased me.

“Boys don’t – till they’re teenagers,” I told her. 
“Can you do the splits?”  So saying, I spread my legs
wide, opening them up with my little penis and
testicles dangling down the middle and looking lost.

“You’ll see my clitty if I do that,” Kirsty giggled. 
I had been rumbled.  She hesitated.  “I want another
kiss,” she sniggered.

I gave it to her, and she obligingly spread her legs
wide, looking down to examine the effect on her
vagina.  It screwed up almost into a little hole, with
the little rows of hairs now forming an oval shape as
they were forced apart in the middle.  Her white
clitoris appeared at the top, and underneath more
tissue glistened in the half-light.  Then she giggled
and shut her legs again.

“That was awesome,” I grinned at her.  “You have such
a lovely body.”

She beamed in delight.  Then she looked down at my
penis and asked, “What does it – *feel* like?”

“You can touch it,” I told her.  “As long as I can do
the same to you.”

She nodded.  Then she put out her hand and pushed my
penis with her finger.  It shifted at her touch. 
“It’s soft,” she told me.  Emboldened, she took it
between her fingers and, as I feared, it began to lose
its softness.

“Ooh,” she gasped as she could feel it swelling and
hardening between her fingers.  She let go.  “What’s

Fortunately when she let go my penis began to shrink
again.  “It – happens sometimes,” I told her, adding,
“Sexy girls make it that way.”

She flushed and smiled again, watching it return to
its floppy self.  Then I said, “My turn now.  Lean
back so I can reach it.”

She was clearly tense as she leaned back.  “You did it
before, though,” she reminded me, as if hoping I might
decide that was enough.

“That was with your panties on, though,” I told her. 
“But I won’t do anything bad.”

I rubbed the lips of her vagina gently with my
fingertips, making her shudder and smile.  I could
just feel the soft, light hairs under my fingertips as
I did so.  Then I moved further upstairs.  Her legs
were not far apart, so her clitoris was not visible. 
But I gave her an extra little tickle at the top,
making her shudder and give a little squeal of
pleasure.  Then I ran my fingers over the little
spreading hairs at the top.

This was as far as we got.  I knew the whistle was
about to go for games, and didn’t want to have to rush
off in panic again, spoiling the intimacy.  I had been
keeping an eye on my watch, and after a little more
fondling I reluctantly pointed out that we had better
been getting dressed for our return to the real world.

(To be continued)


During drinks I caught up with Ernst and asked him
what he did about his secret meeting with Maxi.  “We
found another place,” he grinned.  “It’s more –
closer.”  His English was still not perfect, but I
understood he was well satisfied with the situation as
it was smaller and then more intimate.

For the next day or two, Ernst hardly spoke to me. 
All I can say is that Ernst often walked round the
camp as if in a world of his own, looking like a cat
that has a lifetime supply of cream, and we were not
in each other’s company as often as usual.  It would
be some time before he told me anything of what was
going on between him and Maxi.

Tessa arrived at tea, limping but not badly now, and
helped along by Lisa, who I thought paid her far too
much attention instead of leaving her to me.  I never
managed much more of a “Hello” to Tessa with Lisa
hanging around to make sure she was all right.  I got
the impression Tessa too thought a bit too much fuss
was being made of her injury.

It was games next, our final ritual slaughter by the
Eagles, this time at basketball.  Tessa clearly
couldn’t play.  I had played in all the matches so
far, so it was really my turn to sit out, and I went
and quietly reminded Lloyd of that fact on our way
down to the field.  Ernst had also played in all the
matches, but he was keen to play again while Brett and
several girls, like Kirsty and Susan, were not, so he
was allowed to play in this match as well.  Kirsty and
Susan had both missed two matches, so much against
their wills they were required to play in this one.

Since they did their best to keep out of the way of
the ball, we were hammered at basketball as well.  I
hardly noticed, though, as I made the most of my
opportunity with Tessa.

I followed behind her and Lisa, waiting to see where
she was going to sit.  Lisa called a boy to fetch a
chair for her, but Tessa said firmly that she was all
right and sat down beside the court, legs crossed and
panties showing.  I soon found that she regularly sat
this way, and surprisingly, after the fuss on the bus
coming out to camp, hardly anybody seemed to notice. 
I certainly did not object.

I was afraid that Lisa might insist on staying with
her, but fortunately she moved away to find Lloyd and
chat with him.  “Hello, Tessa,” I greeted her, seating
myself beside her.  I couldn’t see her panties from
there, but I was now more concerned with getting to
know her.

“Hello, Roy,” she greeted me, face quite bright.  She
didn’t sound badly shy, but she didn’t talk much –
especially for a girl.  Tessa probably took a day to
say as many words as Kirsty usually did in five

My heart feeling warm but nervous, I began to chat
with her as the slaughter commenced on court. 
Although it was again one-sided, there was plenty of
entertainment for those of us who liked to see girls
in short skirts leaping for the ball.  Kirsty and
Susan were, of course, not guilty of this, but I doubt
whether it was inhibition that prevented them.

I chatted a bit to Tessa about the game and the camp
in general, and asked a few questions about her
school.  She responded in a friendly way without
supplying too much herself.  Then suddenly she turned
to me and asked, “Roy, why did you choose me to dance
with this morning?”

To my chagrin, I felt my face going red, and Tessa was
still looking at me.  She wasn’t stupid, so she must
have guessed the reason.  But all I could say was,
“Well, I – I like the way you play games, so I – I
thought you’d be fun to dance with.”  She nodded. 
“And you were,” I added.

She nodded again, and turned her attention back to the
court.  I didn’t feel happy about being so devious,
and it was easier when she wasn’t looking at me.  “And
I – I think you’re pretty,” I forced myself to add. 
She turned and stared at me in surprise.  I gave her a
blushing grin.  “Especially in a skirt,” I told her. 
“You look – much prettier than in shorts.”

I don’t know whether this had an effect on her, but
after that Tessa usually wore a skirt around camp
instead of her shorts, and I kept making a point of
complimenting her on it.  I must add that this was not
just so I could have continued access to her panties,
but because she really did look more attractive and
feminine in dresses and skirts – as I believe all
girls do.

She didn’t know what to say, so she turned away again,
and I suddenly noticed that she too was blushing a
little.  This gave me confidence.  I quickly checked
to make sure that nobody was within earshot, and then
finally said, “And I – I like you.  I like you a lot. 
I – was hoping we could be friends.”

Smiling more broadly than I had seen her before, she
turned to me again and nodded her head
enthusiastically.  “I’d like – to be friends with
you,” she told me.  And after a pause, “Thank you.” 
Then, after another pause, “But just friends – not
boyfriend and girlfriend or anything.”

“Oh, no,” I assured her quickly.  “Just friends.”

There was a period of silence as we both seemed
somewhat shocked by the confessions we had made,
totally outrageous for self-respecting ten-year-olds
and carrying with it a virtual life sentence of peer
ridicule were this ever leaked to the grapevine. 
Fortunately these confessions were made between two
consenting preteens in private, so there were no
witnesses – though, of course, the mere fact that we
were even sitting together, let alone talking, was
enough to make others jump to logical conclusions.

The weather by now had become unusually humid, and we
suspected that one of those occasional flash summer
storms was brewing.  We didn’t know if it would hit us
or not, but we were a bit apprehensive about the
possibility of being in the middle of one with only
the canvas to protect us.  There was no sign of it
yet, but the sky became rather hazy and the humidity
increased as we had our showers and then our swim. 
Tessa was fit and keen enough to swim as well.

A wind was beginning to blow up as we had our meal and
then evening entertainment.  It was quite a warm wind,
but we were all rather worried, and Miss Tate warned
us that if the storm seemed imminent we would all need
to return to our tents early and stay there.  She
assured us that we would be safe, the canvas would
keep out the water and there was not likely to be any
flooding in this area.  But at our age we were most
concerned about the thunder and lightning, and there
was no way she could help us with that.

It was actually during the meal that I sensed another
storm going on in the background.  During afternoon
drinks I had seen a couple of boys from another tent
looking at Maxi and sniggering.  I wondered at the
time, from their gestures, whether they had heard from
Mickey or somebody else in our tent that she had no
breast growth yet.  Now Kirsty was first with the news
during the meal, sneaking up to me as we lined up for
our pudding.

“Maxi’s been telling us about Mickey,” she grinned at
me, with Susan next to her again and grinning over her
shoulder.  “She says he’s only got a tiny, tiny thing,
so small you can hardly see it.  Is that true?”

So Maxi was taking her revenge on her twin brother,
was she?  I suppose it was only to be expected.  I
wondered what to say.  I didn’t want to tell a lie,
but neither did I want to come out on Mickey’s side.

“Come on, Roy, is it true?” Kirsty asked me eagerly,
her breath hot in my earhole.

I hesitated still, while she kept urging me.  Finally
I replied, “I – I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” she burst out, looking offended.  “You must
have *seen* it sometime – when you have your showers
or when you change for bed or when you do a wee
together into your big hole . . .”  She giggled, hands
to mouth.

“What’s the matter, Kirsty?” asked Lisa, who had come
up behind her.

“Nothing,” Kirsty assured her hurriedly, blushing and
scurrying away, looking guilty.

Lisa looked at me, eyebrows raised to see if there was
a problem.  “She can be a bit of a pain sometimes,” I
mumbled, and that seemed to satisfy Lisa.

Kirsty made another effort to get the vital
information out of me during the evening meeting, but
there were too many others around and it was not
difficult to deny her this time.  Miss Tate, perhaps
overanxious, sent us off to bed rather hurriedly that
night.  I had much greater access to Tessa, now that
she had decided we could be friends, and for the first
time was able to say goodnight to her.  Though, of
course, not with the kiss I had fantasized about.

The storm was actually a long time in coming, and we
went to sleep thinking it had passed us by.  But then
we were awoken in the depths of the night by the rain
lashing down, brilliant lightning and crashing
thunder.  Despite Miss Tate’s assurances, rainwater
did start running through our tent, but fortunately
the sleeping area was raised and drained, so it never
became more than damp underneath our beds.

Lloyd put the lamp on and we huddled here in our beds
until the storm passed, which was probably less than
20 minutes.  Mickey cowered under his blankets,
whimpering from fear, and Ernst couldn’t resist the
temptation to ask him if he needed Maxi to hold his
hand.  Lloyd went over to put an arm round him and
Mickey clung to him tightly, head buried under his
pillow still.  It was at least less frightening in the
light, and finally the thunder and lightning rolled
away and the torrents of water suddenly became almost
a trickle.

Relieved still to be dry, although also quite a bit
colder, we settled down in our beds again.  It didn’t
take me long to get to sleep again, but I gathered
that Mickey spent a long time crying and pleading with
Lloyd to sleep with him for protection.  Lloyd kindly
but consistently refused, no doubt aware of the
implications some people might draw from it had he

We were still up early the following morning, and
everything looked very different after the rain. 
Instead of a mixture of bare earth and straggly grass
among the tents, it was muddy and even slippery in
places.  But the sun was shining brilliantly again,
there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and we knew that
after a few hours it would all harden again.  Still,
we were excited and noisier than usual as we went off
for breakfast.  Mickey did not join us, and it turned
out that Lloyd had served him with breakfast in bed.

Tessa was actually waiting for me at breakfast, with a
smile on her face.  Her shyness with me seemed to have
gone, and she was hardly limping.  She was keen to
play in the sports, but not quite ready yet.  We were
relieved that we would no longer have to play the
Eagles, and were hoping the Falcons were not so
strong.  This time we would be starting with

I hadn’t the courage to ask to sit out again, or
everybody really would have been mocking me for being
lovesick.  Mickey made a miraculous recovery, no doubt
keen to play up to his public image, or whatever he
conceived that to be – so that was bad news for our
team.  I played, we lost again, but only narrowly this
time.  The Falcons were not as strong as the Eagles.

Wendy was one of the leaders in this team, and Maxi
was among the opposition.  She and Mickey glared at
each other frequently, but at least did not try to use
words or fists this time.  I noticed Ernst visibly
showing off to her, but I couldn’t criticise, as I was
showing off to Tessa, often turning round to see if
she was watching my best shots.  She usually was, and
she would smile and clap at me.

Wendy squatted next to her at one point, presumably to
see how she was, and I missed a shot in the game as I
was watching the curve of Wendy’s thighs underneath
and the rounded hem of her soft white panties.  For a
girl her age, Wendy seemed delightfully unaware of the
treasures she sometimes displayed.

After the match and refreshments, Miss Winrow, who was
in charge of first aid, called Tessa to the tent to
have another look at her leg.  Tessa went with
reluctance, sure she was well enough, while Kirsty
button-holed me.  “Come, Roy, let’s have another
meeting,” she giggled, with a gleam in her eye.

That was better than nothing, I felt, with Tessa
unavailable, and I thought I might as well make the
most of it, as I hoped in future to spend our free
time with her.  But Kirsty was attractive and it gave
me a thrill to be so close to a girl when so few girls
were willing to share their charms so intimately.

I went up to the cave first, and Kirsty soon joined
me.  Beaming with pleasure, she gave me a smacking
kiss as soon as she arrived inside.  Then she slipped
out of her dress, standing there in her flesh-coloured
embroidered panties of the day as she awaited my
approval.  I duly gave it, and slipped out of my

Again she wanted a little foreplay, I suppose you
could call it, before we went naked.  We snuggled up
close together in the far corner of the little cave,
and she wanted us to rub each other again between the
legs through our underwear.  Then she rose and sat
down between my legs, facing away from me but leaning
back against my body, her head resting on my shoulder
and her hair constantly getting in the way of my face.
 She placed my hands on the waistline of her panties
and it was obvious what she expected me to do.

I ran my fingers up and down the crotch of her panties
again, making her shudder with pleasure.  Then, when
she had settled down, I moved my hands upwards,
rubbing her tummy, and then up to her little rubbery
breasts.  She gave a little squeal as I put my fingers
on them.  They were wobbly, but underneath it was a
little more solid in the manner of jelly.  Gently I
rubbed them with my fingers, while she giggled and

Later she nervously decided the time had come to
remove our underwear.  This time we sat face to face,
and she constantly dropped her eyes to study my penis
and testicles in detail.  I was quite happy to enjoy
the sight of her little pointed nipples and her little
developing vagina, with its little line of tiny auburn
hairs.  This time she did not seem to want to get my
penis excited, so I had to be satisfied with the

Finally time was up, and we got dressed before the
whistle went.  It was like returning to the real world
after an age away, with all the sunshine and the noise
and excitement of the campers after the peace and
shade of the cave.

There was some excitement among the boys, too, and I
wondered what it was.  I had to ask around.

“We went down to the stream to play,” one of them told
me.  “And you should see that patch of clay, it’s all
wet and sticky!  So we started playing in it and some
guys started throwing it.  Kevin stopped us, but he
said it was good fun and he was just worried about us
getting our clothes dirty.  Then he said he would try
to fix up a big mud fight in teams.  Hey, that’s going
to be great!”

Many of the boys were watching Kevin in conversation
with the adult leaders.  Miss Tate looked dubious, her
boyfriend was amused and Miss Winrow looked rather
shocked.  But I could see Kevin seemed to be winning
Miss Tate round.

There was an expectant hush among the boys as Miss
Tate blew the whistle after drinks.  She announced
that there would be a change in the morning’s
programme, as Kevin wanted to organize an ‘activity’
for the boys.  She didn’t specify what it was.  The
girl leaders would be taking the girls for a separate
activity in the woods, hunting for flowers.

“Are the boys really going to play in the mud?” Tessa
asked me.

“I think so,” I told her.

Tessa’s eyes shone with excitement.  “I want to play
in the mud too, that’s such fun!” she exclaimed.  “I
can’t go on the walk anyway, so maybe Kevin will let
me join.”

Immediately she limped over to Kevin.  With boys all
around him, it was difficult for her to gain his
attention.  Finally I saw him bend down to listen to
what she had to say.  I could see him smiling and
shaking his head.

Tessa came back to me with tears in her eyes, looking
most indignant.  “He said no, this is just for boys!”
she protested.  “That’s not fair!”  If she had been
Maxi, she would no doubt have been on her mobile phone
to her lawyer pleading sex discrimination.

I couldn’t understand why not at first, but then I
began to wonder.  All I could do was sympathize, while
Tessa went to Lisa, her tent leader, to get her on
side.  Lisa looked sympathetic, but she too shook her
head smilingly.  I understood later that the reason
for this was that she was worried about Tessa hurting
her leg some more.

The girls went to their tents to collect things they
needed for their hike, while Tessa still protested
that she couldn’t walk properly.  Lisa promised to
keep with her and help her if she couldn’t keep up,
which was not what Tessa wanted at all.

Kevin then called the boys around him.  We were noisy
and excited.  “All right, guys, go to your tents and
grab your towels and soap,” he told us.  “We’ll all
need showers afterwards.”

“What about our clothes?” one boy asked.

“Don’t worry about that,” Kevin assured him.  There
was a low murmur as some of us began to catch on.  I
heard one boy ask if we were going to play naked,
then, but Kevin just laughed and quietened him. 
Presumably if so, he had not told Miss Tate and the
other leaders, though I never found out just what he
did say about that aspect.

We got ready with great noise and excitement, and
finally trooped off with Kevin and the other boy
leaders to the war zone.  I was fascinated to see when
we arrived how the whole area had now become a large
plain of greyish wet clay, with puddles here and
there, and covered in footprints made by the boys

Kevin headed straight for the rocks by the side, away
from the stream, and began undressing.  Excitedly we
followed suit, able to skirt around the mud to get
there.  There were some boys who didn’t want to take
part, but Kevin didn’t pressure them, just reminding
everybody that they must get undressed if they wanted
to take part, for the sake of their clothes, and to
keep the mud away from the clothing area.

“In 30 minutes’ time, Tents One and Two challenge
Tents Three and Four to a mud fight,” Kevin
proclaimed, now naked and grinning broadly.  There
were roars from us boys as we took up the challenge
and started posturing at each other.  “Until then,
guys, you can have fun, but no throwing of mud until
we’re ready to do battle.”

I think Kevin understood we would want some time to
play first before the major event.  So we spent our
half-hour rather like time at the beach, wallowing in
the sticky mud, which was black underneath, building
mud castles, rolling in it and getting ourselves

Mickey, of course, had to show off.  He scooped up
handfuls of mud and daubed them all over his penis and
testicles.  Then he strutted up and down among us,
looking a weird sight with his white body and black
genitals.  Some boys laughed, others ignored him,
depending on their opinion of him.

I learned later that he had been strutting among boys
from other tents, pulling his muddy penis and
announcing in a silly way, “Hello, I’m a freak, my
name’s Ernst.”  But of course he didn’t dare do that
anywhere near Ernst or myself.  In the end, I heard,
Kevin came over and told him to stop his pornography
and either play like the rest of us or ship out.  It
was good to hear of one of the leaders prepared to
tell the twins where to get off.

Ernst and I played together for a while, but he still
refused to talk about Maxi.  We began digging a hole
as deep as possible, and I must say Ernst looked a
highly amusing sight, on his knees, bending right down
to scrabble in the hole as it became deeper.  Some of
the other boys were in fits of giggles behind him, to
see his testicles and large penis dangling down
through his legs from the back, almost to his knees as
he dug.  One of them pretended he was going to reach
through Ernst’s thighs and pull his penis, but of
course he didn’t dare.

Finally Kevin blew his whistle and called out, “The
big battle starts in five minutes!  So, when you’re
ready, line up in your teams!”

We were all ready for that now, so most of us left
what we were doing immediately and took up our
positions.  We were ready and yelling insults at the
opposition in fun in well under five minutes, so Kevin
began the countdown ahead of time.  “Three – two – one
– ZERO!”

On zero, we all flung our handfuls of mud, and kept on
throwing.  Almost immediately I was hit on the side by
a large dollop of soft, sticky mud, but there were so
many missiles flying through the air I couldn’t even
tell where it came from or who did it, and I lost
sight of many of my own missiles.  The worst hits were
those that hit you on the top of the head, because it
stuck in your hair and would be very difficult to get

I’ve no idea how long the fight lasted, but it was
total mayhem and everybody got plastered in mud from
head to foot, leaders as well.  It was getting very
difficult to recognise people.  At one stage I thought
it was Ernst standing next to me hurling mud at the
enemy, and it was only when I turned to speak to him
and saw that the muddy penis was altogether too short
that I realised I had a case of mistaken identity.

In the end the result was an exhausted draw.  Both
sides had their ‘wounded’, boys who were so tired, yet
happy, that they withdrew to the sides to watch, still
laughing and occasionally spitting out mud.  There
were two or three genuine wounded, including Mickey,
who took a complete faceful of mud hurled at
point-blank range by another boy who was so muddy I
couldn’t recognise him.  I couldn’t believe it was
accidental.  Mickey howled, and Lloyd had to come over
and guide him off towards the stream, as his eyes and
whole face were completed submerged in mud, with the
only recognisable feature being an open red mouth
whose volume was turned right up.

I think Kevin realized we were getting weary as he
finally blew a long blast on his whistle and declared
his side the winners.  There was no reason for saying
so, as both sides had about ten warriors still
throwing when they could summon up the energy, so he
was only joking, and his announcement brought a fresh
volley of mud from our team.  But in the end we all
sank to the ground, laughing, few of us recognisable
and few of us with more than a few square centimetres
of skin showing through the mud anywhere on our

Kevin allowed us time to relax and relive the thrills
of the morning, before finally ordering a retreat to
the showers.  First we washed off the worst of the mud
in the stream, with the usual high degree of
horseplay, and then we collected our clothes and began
the march to the showers.  Kevin and most of the
others just wrapped their towels around their waists
as we walked, but I didn’t even bother.  The girls
were far away, as I explained to the others, and in
any case I was still too muddy to be recognised from
any distance.

Thus assured of anonymity, several other boys, with
naughty grins, took off their towels and minced along
happily naked in full public view – except that there
was no public to view us there.  Ernst was one of
them, and I didn’t bother to point out that he was not
quite as anonymous as the rest of us.

It took a lot of hard work in the showers to get rid
of the thick, sticky clay, and we were all
astonishingly pink with scrubbing by the time we
finally emerged for lunch.  The girls had returned and
were eager to know what we had been doing.  They found
us surprisingly cagey, as Kevin had asked us to try
not to let anybody else know we had done it naked. 
But there were girls, of course, who had to ask what
we were wearing in the mud, and they must have guessed
the answer from the giggles and evasion they got in

Tessa still looked very disappointed.  She had really
been longing to play in the mud.  “All we had was a
long walk to look at flowers, and I had to stay with
Lisa part of the way because I couldn’t walk that
far,” she complained.  “I really wish I could have had
a mud fight with the boys.”

I didn’t explain to her the real reason why girls had
not been allowed to join us.  Instead I sympathised,
but then suddenly an idea sprang to mind.  “Hey,
Tessa, I know,” I suddenly said, dropping my voice to
a whisper.  “What about if – if we sneak out of our
tents after lights out tonight and go over to the mud
together?  We can play in it together then.  Can you
do that?”

Her face suddenly brightened.  “Ooh, that would be
lovely!” she exclaimed.  “But what if we’re caught?”

“We won’t be, if we can sneak out,” I told her.  “I’m
right next to the corner, so it’s easy for me.  Can
you do that?”

Tessa shook her head, but then said, “I can just
explain I’m going to the toilet.”

It doesn’t take much reflection to realise that this
was one of the most stupid ideas I’ve ever had in my
life.  I still wonder today how such an utterly
stupid, totally impractical idea could have had such
exciting consequences.  I must have been born under a
lucky star.

I spent the rest of the day in a world of my own,
thinking about, fantasising about what Tessa and I
were going to do after lights out that night.  I
didn’t even work out the details or anticipate
problems, I just thought of Tessa and myself, alone at
last, together.  She had said yes!

Tessa did have a couple of details that she required
answering, though.  “What are we going to wear in the
mud?” she asked at afternoon tea.

“I – don’t know,” I answered, not willing to tell her
what I hoped would be the truth and hoping she
wouldn’t ask what I wore that morning before I was
ready to tell her.

“I’m just going to wear an old pair of panties,” she
answered, quite unashamed to say so.  “But how are we
going to get clean afterwards?”

“Well, we can wash the mud off in the stream,” I
answered unconvincingly.  “Or maybe we can go for a

“We’d get caught then,” objected Tessa, but she didn’t
sound too bothered about it.  “How are we going to see
in the dark?” was her next question.  “I’ve got a

“So have I,” I answered.  “And the moon is about
full.”  In my eagerness I glossed over the fact that
it would still be very hard to see, although I knew it
very well.  I just assumed we would find a way and
that it would be worth it.

Our conversation was interrupted by Kirsty, who came
over smiling brightly and immediately launched into
her most exciting topic of conversation.  “Come on,
Roy, tell us about Mickey,” she urged me.  “Maxi keeps
telling everybody his thing is so small you can hardly
see it.  But when we saw – him in the film, after
having a bath, you – you could just see something
waving up and down, and that must have been his
thing.”  She giggled.  “I wish we could get the video,
then we could pause it at the right place and see what
it really looks like.  But it seems larger there than
what Maxi’s saying.  Is she lying?”

“It comes out all blurred,” I told her.  “What does
Maxi say about that?”

“She just says – it isn’t proper on the film, it looks
bigger than it really is,” answered Kirsty.  At this
point Tessa quietly disappeared, clearly quite
uninterested in Mickey’s elusive penis.  “But, Roy,
you know what it looks like, you’ve seen it every day,
haven’t you?  Tell us the truth.”

“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” I told her,
deliberately teasing her, while at the same time
unwilling to restore Mickey’s reputation.

I turned away, trying to follow Tessa, but Kirsty
grabbed me by the arm.  “Come on, Roy, tell us the
truth about Mickey’s thing,” she burst out.

In her excitement she said it louder than she
intended, and several boys around us heard, turned
their heads and laughed.  Then I heard Mickey’s shrill
voice right next to us, demanding, “What’s that stupid
talk about me?”

Kirsty whipped round, saw Mickey standing there and
gave a squeal.  She dropped her empty cup, slapped her
hands to her mouth and turned bright red.  For the
first time she had temporarily lost her voice.

But Mickey was really angry.  “I’m sick of all these
lies about me,” he squeaked, his face also red as he
let loose at Kirsty.  “Maxi just tells lies, it’s all
lies.  Don’t listen to that little bitch.”

Aware of a grinning audience, I put in, “Well, you
started it by telling everybody she had no breasts. 
So she was just looking for revenge.”

“Keep out of this,” he snapped at me.  Then he
suddenly seemed to change his mind because, without
stopping to draw breath, he went on, “Come on, you
tell her.  My cock’s bigger than yours, isn’t it?”

“Hey, come on, you lot, stop that,” came Kevin’s quiet
but firm voice.  “What’s the problem?”  He wandered
over towards us, so the spectators quickly and quietly
faded away.  Almost without knowing it, we found
ourselves separated, Mickey slipping away in one
direction, Kirsty disappearing in another, while I
headed for the area where I had last seen Tessa.

I found her by the table and began chatting to her
again.  We both wanted to talk about our expedition
that night, but didn’t want others to hear, so we
slipped away towards the side.  Perhaps this was a
mistake, as Kirsty quickly found us again.

She was very giggly.  “Ooh, Roy, I didn’t know Mickey
could hear us,” she sniggered.  “He’s so cross. 
Please, you must ask him to show us his – his thing.”

Mickey had presumably been watching to see if we would
come together again, as he sidled up next to Kirsty,
causing her to squeal and blush as she had done
before.  But I don’t think he had heard what she was
saying, though he could guess.  “Are you gossiping
about me again?” he hissed in his squeaky voice,
taking care not to draw attention to himself.  “Just
cut it out.”

“It’s just – Maxi . . .” began Kirsty, and then dried

“I told you, don’t listen to that bitch,” Mickey told
her nastily.  “Come on, Roy, you can tell her, my cock
isn’t at all tiny.  It’s just a nasty little lie. 
It’s bigger than most boys’.”

Hands over her mouth, Kirsty almost had a giggling
fit, so embarrassed was she.  “Tell her, Roy,”
demanded Mickey angrily.

I wasn’t going to give him any support.  “Look, if you
want her to know, you show her yourself,” I told him.

“You know I can’t do that, there’s nowhere we can go
in private,” Mickey retorted crossly.

“Yes, there is, there’s a little cave near the rocks,”
suddenly put in Kirsty, very eagerly.  “We can go
there.  I’ve been there before – with – with Roy.”

I groaned, and wished I could have thrown something at
her.  It was our secret place, which we had agreed not
to reveal to anybody else, and here was Kirsty,
blurting it out to Mickey of all people.

“All right, we’ll go there, then,” said Mickey
aggressively.  “And I’ll just show you, then you can
tell all the girls that Maxi’s a liar.  Let’s go now,
it’s free time coming up.”

Kirsty flushed and her eyes lit up as she beamed with
excitement.  I guessed at that moment that I was a
poor substitute for Mickey, although she was happy
enough to use me when the film star was unavailable. 
She nodded vigorously and then turned to me.  “Come,
Roy, let’s take Mickey,” she said excitedly.

“Hey, he’s not coming,” objected Mickey.  “We just do
it together, right?  Let’s go, everybody’s moving off

“Oh, I – I want Roy to come,” blurted out Kirsty,
suddenly flustered.  “He – he’s used to it.  Come on,
Mickey, let Roy come as well.”

I wondered why Kirsty was so eager to have me along
with her, when her real interest was clearly only in
Mickey.  Looking back nowadays, I suppose it was just
the usual need for girls to do things and go places in
pairs, and since Susan wasn’t much in evidence these
days – frightened off, I suspect, by being persuaded
to reveal herself that first time – I was the best,
the only, available substitute.  I suppose I should
have been honoured to have her look to me for
security, even though I was a boy.

Mickey didn’t like the idea, and I suppose if he had
pushed hard enough he would have persuaded her to do
it alone with him.  Perhaps he was just keen to get
the event over with, or perhaps he really thought
Kirsty wouldn’t agree without having me there. 
Possibly he was looking forward to proving that his
penis was longer than mine.  However, after one effort
to change her mind, he said ungraciously, “Oh, all
right then, if you need Roy to hold your hand.”

Kirsty clasped her hands under her chin and gave a
squeal of delight with a big smile.  “Ooh, let’s do it
then, quickly!” she exclaimed, as if afraid that this
was a final offer that would expire in five minutes’
time.  “Mickey, Roy and I will go first and you watch
us, and then you can follow us.”

“All right, get on with it,” shrugged Mickey,
displaying none of the brilliant charm that he had
shown in his film.  In fact, we only saw that on camp
when he was trying to impress the girls or the
leaders.  He could certainly turn it on very
convincingly when he wanted to, but the rest of us
kids soon discovered what he was really like.

Kirsty grabbed me by the arm, as if I were indeed a
girl, and we headed off in the direction of the rocks.
 As soon as we were out of Mickey’s hearing, I told
her off for giving away our secret cave.

“It doesn’t matter,” she shrugged it off.  “Now Mickey
knows, he can come with us every time we go.”  I
suspected from her tone of voice, though, that she was
preparing to dump me if she found Mickey agreeable and

“I don’t want him with us every time,” I protested. 
“He’s a real creep and he hates both Ernst and me.”

“But he’s so cute,” sighed Kirsty, as if that were all
that mattered.  “He – he’s famous, and – and he wants
me to see his thing!”

I sighed and didn’t try to argue with her.  We went up
to the cave, Kirsty looked back to check that Mickey
was watching us, and then we slipped inside.  For the
first day or so of camp, Mickey had been followed
everywhere he went by adoring girls, and such a
meeting would not have been possible then.  Nobody was
following him now.

I suddenly realised how much he must be missing the
adulation, and now Maxi’s rumours about the size of
his penis, though it was his own fault, were a further
blow to his ego.  He was presumably desperate to win
back a bit of respect.  I had to remind myself that he
had only himself to blame, or I might even have
started feeling sorry for him.

A minute or so later Mickey came slithering into the
cave, legs first, bright blue underpants visible for a
moment up the loose legs of his shorts.  “Gee, I
didn’t know there was a cave here,” he said.

Kirsty stood there and giggled, while Mickey seemed to
be waiting for her to take the initiative.  So I said
rather bluntly, “Come on, Mickey, take your shorts

“But I – it’s got to be fair,” he blurted out, as if
he had suddenly thought of it.  “We’ve both got to do
it.  If I show you, then you must show me your pussy
as well.”

Kirsty gave a squeal and a giggle, and then went red
again as she nodded.  Then, for some reason best known
to herself, she said, “Roy, you must do it first, so
Mickey will – will know I’ll do it too.”

“Yes, then she can see that my cock’s bigger than
yours,” Mickey sneered provocatively.

“I don’t mind,” I shrugged.  I might as well go the
whole hog.  I stripped off my shirt, and then slipped
out of my shorts and underpants so that I stood there
naked.  I’m sure Mickey know from Kirsty’s lack of
anticipation that she had seen my penis before.

Mickey grinned, and some of his old arrogance came
back.  “My turn now,” he told Kirsty authoritatively. 
“Turn round and I’ll tell you when you can look.”

Kirsty giggled, put her hands over her eyes and turned
round.  Quickly Mickey turned his back on me and
crouched over, hands round his front.  It took no
great brains to figure out that he was pumping his
penis, to try to make it look a little bigger when
Kirsty saw it.

“Are you ready yet?” came Kirsty’s rather tremulous
voice after about five seconds.

“Nearly,” said Mickey, still working hard.  Then he
said, “You can look now.”

Kirsty turned round and stared, mouth open and cheeks
burning under her flat palms.  Mickey was facing her,
holding his penis out from the leg of his shorts.  He
had worked it up in that short time so it was a little
stiffer and thrust forward a little, but it wasn’t
obvious what he had been doing unless you had seen him
doing it.  The little bulge at the end and the spout
of surplus flesh were clearly visible.

When Mickey showed off, he always made a meal of it. 
“Kirsty, you are the first girl in the camp to see the
cock that will one day be world-famous,” he squeaked
in his high-pitched voice.  “This is the cock that
girls will die for, all at your service.  Now tell me,
is this the tiny little thing that Maxi was lying to
you about?”

Kirsty gave a squeal, giggling and sagging at the
knees.  “Ooh, no, it’s bigger than Roy’s,” came the
smothered words from beneath her fingers.  “It – it’s
quite big.  I didn’t think – but it’s not as big as
Ernst’s.  You should see Ernst’s thing – it’s

“I’ve seen it and it’s a freak, a monstrosity,”
sneered Mickey.  “But my cock is immortal.  And it’s
all at your service.”  He was still standing there
with it thrust out of his shorts, while I was still
naked.  It was only some time later that I wondered if
he preferred that method of display to full nudity so
as to hide the fact that he had no pubic hair.

“I want to – may I – touch it?” asked Kirsty, with
great daring, pointing a trembling finger towards it. 
“If it’s – at my service.”

“Only when you’ve shown me yours,” said Mickey firmly.
 “We agreed.”

Kirsty’s hands went up to her face again and she gave
a little squeal.  Then she moved her hands down, to
reveal her blushing face, and whispered a giggly, “All
right.”  She lifted her skirt, revealing that her
embroidered panties were a very pale egg-shell blue
today, and pulled aside the material rather clumsily. 
Her by now familiar vagina, with its little lining of
pubic hair, came into view.

Mickey’s greedy blue eyes stared at it as he bent over
for a closer look, with a lascivious smile around his
mouth.  His penis was now safely back home.  “Mmm –
nice panties, nice hairstyle,” he approved.

Kirsty gave a giggle and dropped her skirt again,
removing her fingers.  “Now you must let me touch your
– your thing,” she told him.

Mickey looked at her calculatingly.  “So now you can
tell all the girls that Maxi’s a liar,” he challenged
her.  “And I’ve got a big one.”  She giggled and

Mickey duly pulled out his penis again, though by now
it was a little shorter and more floppy than on its
previous appearance.  Kirsty gave a giggle and then
prodded it with her finger, making it bounce slightly.
 “Ooh,” she commented profoundly.

“You can make it stiff if you want,” Mickey offered,
no doubt eager for the chance to display a larger

“How do I do that?” Kirsty wanted to know.

“I thought you’d have done that with your boyfriend,”
sneered Mickey, indicating me.  “You just – pull it a
bit and squeeze it a bit and rub it a bit, and it
starts going hard.”  He pulled back his foreskin for a
moment, showing her his little purple prepuce, and
then slid it back again.

“All right,” agreed Kirsty gingerly.  She took hold of
the end of Mickey’s penis, just behind the bulge of
his prepuce, and pulled it nervously.  “Ooh, it’s like
elastic,” she observed.  She let go, and then took it
by the middle and shook it.  Mickey’s penis began to
respond, and she giggled.  As she kept prodding and
pulling it, it began to swell, and in next to no time
it was long and hard and pointing towards the big rock

Kirsty suddenly let go and took a step backwards, as
if afraid of what she had done.  Her hands went to
their familiar position, covering the bottom part of
her face.  “Now let me show you what my cock cam do
with your pussy,” grinned Mickey.

I couldn’t believe he really intended to try to have
sex with Kirsty there in front of me.  I think it was
more likely that he was just trying to show off and
might have got close, perhaps rubbed his penis against
her vagina, just to do something that I hadn’t done
with her.  But Kirsty didn’t give him chance.  “That’s
– fine for today,” she blurted out, sounding scared. 
“Next time, maybe.  Thank – thanks, Mickey.”  Pushing
past us both, she hustled over to the entrance and
scrambled through it.

She had not even got outside when Mickey turned on me,
his face scarlet.  “It’s all your fault, you bloody
fool,” he screeched at me, taking me by surprise. 
“Why the hell couldn’t you just tell everybody
yourself that my cock was big?  Now I’ve had to – to
go through all this of showing a stupid girl my cock
and I wouldn’t have had to if you’d told the truth
about me!”

“What do you mean, it’s my fault?” I argued, startled
by his treachery.  “It’s not my business what Maxi
says about you.  It’s your fault for telling everybody
she has no breasts anyway.  And you seemed to be
having a very good time there with Kirsty.”

“Of course I wasn’t!” he shrieked, his shrill voice
almost hurting my eardrums.  “Do you think I’d do this
if I didn’t have to?”  He continued to hurl invective
at me until I clenched my fists and stepped forward,
ready to hit him.  He suddenly looked scared for a
second and stepped back hurriedly.  But as soon as I
lowered my fists and headed for the entrance, he
started shouting invective at me again.  I had been
pretending, of course, sure he was easy to scare.

I scrambled out angrily, and was surprised to find
Kirsty right there waiting for me.  I shouldn’t have
been surprised.  She could hardly have missed hearing
Mickey yelling at me, and what female gossip would
ever tear herself away from such a scene without
waiting until the end?

Kirsty was looking shocked.  “He’s so rude!” she
exclaimed in horror.  “And he called me stupid!”

“Well, now you know what kind of a creep he is,” I
told her grimly.  In the heat of the moment I came out
with a very mean plan.  “Kirsty, don’t tell anybody
he’s got a big penis now.  You can tell them you saw
it and it’s just as small as Maxi says it is.”

She gave a giggle and nodded her head.  “It’ll serve
him right,” she agreed.  She linked arms with me again
as if I were a girl.  “I’m glad you were in there with
me, Roy,” she confided.  Then she turned her head and
looked at me with big, awe-filled eyes.  “But Roy, I –
I saw his thing.  I really did, I saw his thing!  And
he’s famous!”  She could hardly have been more
captivated if she had seen an alien’s penis.

Miss Tate had actually banned us from going to the mud
that afternoon, because of the likelihood of getting
covered with it again.  So Kirsty led me towards a
shady little copse where the less energetic girls
liked to sit and talk during the hot afternoons.  On
the way I was already feeling guilty about my
suggestion to Kirsty, but I felt too insulted to go
back on it.

No sooner had we arrived than Kirsty spotted Susan,
dropped me like a hot brick and went trotting over to
her.  She sat down next to her, giving a brief and
colourful exposition of her panties as she did so, and
whispered excitedly into her ear for about ten
seconds.  Susan gave her slow grin and giggled.  They
whispered together for about ten seconds, and then
Kirsty leapt up revealingly and found another girl to
whisper to.  I just stood there, the only boy in the
area, feeling like a spare part.

At this point the whistle went for the beginning of
games.  We played baseball against the Falcons, and
again lost by only a small margin.  Kirsty had to play
this time, with Tessa also insisting on playing, but
Kirsty found plenty of time to move around whispering
and giggling to all the other girls there.

The reckoning finally came at suppertime.  I lined up
with my plate for the main course, while Kirsty caught
up with me and stood behind me.  She was chattering
away in her usual style when I spotted Mickey
approaching us, looking absolutely furious.

He ignored me at first and rounded on Kirsty.  “The
girls are all saying you’re telling them I have a tiny
cock like Maxi says,” he accused her, his voice more
squeaky than ever and his eyes flashing with rage. 
“What the hell are you saying about me?”

Kirsty flushed and shrivelled up immediately.  “It
wasn’t me – I mean, I didn’t – it was Roy who told me
to,” she protested, taking the coward’s way out.

Mickey looked aghast and stared at me.  I didn’t get a
chance to defend myself.  “I might have known it was
*you*,” he screamed at me, swinging his fist.

I just saw it coming and moved my head, so he caught
me a glancing blow on the forehead.  But he was
obviously no boxer and his round-arm swing gave me
time to move and probably wouldn’t have hurt me much
anyway.  He was on to me immediately, beating at my
shoulders with his feeble little fists.

He was smaller than I, and I had little trouble in
slapping my fist on to his shoulder and pushing down
hard as he came at me again, sidestepping as I did so.
 I was amazed at how easily he staggered past me and
then went down flat on his face in the dust.  He
rolled over, turned his face to the sky and let loose
an enormous howl.

In the shock of the moment there was dead silence for
about two seconds.  On the stroke of two, Mickey
caught his breath and howled again, long and loud.  On
the stroke of four, there was a burst of loud female
laughter from nearby.  Glancing over, I saw Maxi
standing there, mouth wide with delight and spouting
forth her hilarity.  On the stroke of five, the
leaders were on the scene.

Kevin took charge.  Before I had time to draw breath,
I was marched off over to one side, while Lisa picked
up Mickey and, on instruction from Kevin, led him
after us, still howling but less loudly.

Kevin demanded an explanation.  “He was hitting me,” I
explained.  “He started it, you can ask Kirsty because
she saw it all.”  No sooner were the words out of my
mouth than I realised that Kirsty might not prove a
very reliable witness.  “I didn’t hit him, I didn’t
want to do that, but I gave him a push to keep him
away and he fell over.”

“Why was he hitting you, then?” demanded Kevin.

“He told Kirsty to tell everybody I had a small cock,
and it’s not true!” sobbed out Mickey, loudly and

There was a round of sniggering behind us, and Kevin
waved away a host of disappointed non-paying
spectators who wanted to be where the action was. 
Then he called out, “Where’s Kirsty?  Kirsty, come

White-faced, Kirsty obeyed.  Kevin quickly took her to
one side to hear what she had to say.  From what
ensued, I gather that he got a very garbled story
about the reason for the fight, if you could call it
that, but she was adamant that Mickey had started it.

After a bit more investigation, it was my turn again. 
Kevin told me basically that he had heard a lot of
silly talk among the children about penis size, it was
rude, and there was to be no more about it.  I got a
real telling-off and a stern warning about spreading
nasty stories, or being responsible for the spreading
of them, which I suppose I deserved.  Then I was sent
back to humanity feeling pretty subdued.

Mickey presumably got it worse than I did, as he
didn’t appear again until bedtime.  Kevin fortunately
seemed fully aware by now of Mickey’s true nature. 
Mickey was nothing if not resilient, though, and when
he did appear at bedtime he was as cocky as ever, as
if nothing had happened.  After all, he had an image
to live up to – now and again.

I hated this distraction, as I was trying to
concentrate on my planned evening with Tessa.  I was
tempted at one stage to cancel it, aware that I had
just been in trouble once and it would be all the
worse for me if I were caught breaking bounds on the
same day.  But the thought and sight of that sweet
little Tessa were too much for me, and I told myself I
couldn’t take the coward’s way out.  Besides, I
couldn’t disappoint Tessa, who was so eager to play in
that mud . . .

It seemed an age as I waited in our tent after the
evening entertainment, impatiently, yet desperately
hiding my impatience, for lights out.  Finally we were
all in bed and Lloyd switched off the lamp.

Heart thumping, I waited quietly.  After about five
minutes, Lloyd quietly rose and sneaked off to his
evening rendezvous.  There was a sleepy giggle from
Mickey and I heard his comment, “Old Lloyd’s gone off
for his evening poke.”

After another five minutes or so I heard several
different sets of steady breathing around me, but I
couldn’t be sure everybody was asleep.  I especially
needed Mickey to be asleep, because he would be the
one most likely to say or do something if he knew I
was sneaking off.  I decided I would use Tessa’s
excuse of going to the toilet, but I would rather be

I could wait no longer.  Slowly I eased myself out of
my bed.  Earlier that evening I had secretly uprooted
the tent peg by the corner so I had room to sneak out.
 Very slowly and carefully I began to worm my way
through, stopping to listen several times.  There was
no change in the noises inside the tent.

Finally I found myself in the cooler air outside, with
everything still silent around me.  I could hear
voices and giggling from Tent Four next door, but that
didn’t affect me and the lights were out everywhere.

I skirted the area of the tents and made for the big
rock not far from the dining area where I had arranged
to meet Tessa.  I tiptoed towards it, looking around
cautiously although I was out of sight of the tents. 
Somebody might be sneaking around in the dark.

We had arranged to meet round the far side, which was
further out of view.  I was just tiptoeing round
there, wondering if she was there yet, when I heard a
muffled voice and a giggle from round there.  I froze,
and listened hard.  I could hear a voice again, a
fairly deep voice, and I suddenly recognised it as
belonging to Lloyd.  Then there was a female voice
answering, undoubtedly Tara.  So this was where they
met, and I had almost walked into them!

I was just wondering what to do when a dark shadow
suddenly appeared on my left and something touched me
on the arm.  I gave a gasp and almost jumped out of my
skin.  Then I could just make out Tessa’s face in the
moonlight.  She giggled to see she had startled me. 
“Come,” she breathed.

She led me away in the direction of the stream.  As we
left the camp area, she gave a quiet chuckle and
whispered, “That’s Lloyd and Tara there.  I nearly
walked into them, and so did you.”

My heart was pounding fit to burst with the excitement
of this adventure with Tessa now.  We made our way
with difficulty towards the stream, almost losing our
way in the unfamiliar dark, bright though the moon
was.  We kept putting our feet on stones that we would
have avoided in daylight, and once or twice Tessa gave
a gasp of pain as her ankle must have hurt her.  It
was more difficult still as we approached the rocky
banks of the stream and had to make our way down the
narrow path to the mud area.

“Oh, no,” Tessa suddenly exclaimed just behind me. 
“I’ve forgotten to bring my old panties to play in.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I told her, heart in my mouth
with hope.  “I’m just going to go in with nothing on,
like we did this morning.”

“But we’ll be – naked,” objected Tessa mildly, in a
tone more of puzzlement than anything else.

“It doesn’t matter,” I told her again.  “Nobody will
see us in the dark.”

“All right,” she agreed readily enough, surprising me
a little by her lack of concern, and causing
excitement to flood back into my loins.

But there was a disappointment awaiting us.  In the
moonlight I could just see a dark open area where the
mud was.  But when I knelt down to feel it, I
discovered it had dried in the sun.  It was quite hard
on top, with a dry cracked crust.  “Oh, no, it’s dried
up,” I exclaimed in dismay.

Tessa too gave a groan of dismay.  “That’s not fair,”
she moaned, sounding most upset to be robbed of her
opportunity for the second time that day.  She bent
down and hammered the dry clay in frustration with her
fists.  Then she pulled off a lump.  “It’s – a bit
wetter underneath,” she said.

It was, too, though perhaps it was more sticky than
wet, and it also felt quite warm still.  I didn’t want
to give up, and certainly she didn’t.  “Let’s try it,”
I hissed.  “Let’s put our clothes on this rock.”

I was just wearing shorts, while Tessa was wearing
pyjamas.  Without any giggling, delay or any sign of
embarrassment that I could notice, Tessa began to pull
off her pyjama top.  It took me only two seconds to
slip my shorts off and stand there naked.  I didn’t
want to stand there watching her – or rather, to have
her think that was what I was doing – so I turned
round and made my way across the mud flats.

It was indeed hard on top and sticky underneath.  I
tried to find my way to the area that had been wettest
that morning, a shallow depression, and found as I had
hoped that was a bit better.  There was still some
water underneath the crust, but not very much.

I looked down at myself, to see my penis strange and
white in the moonlight.  Tessa was making her way
towards me, naked but apparently uninhibited, but the
area between her legs was all in shadow.

I picked up a handful of thick clay as she approached,
laughing at her and pretending I was going to throw
it.  She kept coming, and then jumped at me.  I swung
my hands round and slapped the sticky clay on her
back, smearing it downwards.  She laughed in delight
and pushed me.  I staggered, and she bent down and
grabbed my leg.  As she pulled, I slipped over
backwards and sat down in the warm, sticky hole I had
just dug.

Tessa was on top of me, laughing, grabbing handfuls of
clay and smearing them on to my chest and my side. 
Some got on my penis by accident.  I fought back,
rolling her over and laying her on her back in the
mud.  Still I couldn’t see the precious area between
her legs in the pale, shadowy light, but I smeared her
with mud.

We stood up and threw mud at each other, trying to
keep our laughter quiet.  Tessa threw quite hard at
me, not always accurately, while I tried too hard I
think to be gentle with her, desperate not to hurt
her.  But it wasn’t really as much fun as it sounds,
as the clay was a bit too hard and too dry.  The best
of it had gone.

Still, we enjoyed ourselves for quite a while before
we finally sat down, facing each other and laughing. 
The clay was sticking all over our hands and most of
our bodies were smeared with it.  We moved closer
together and talked, getting to know each other, every
now and again stopping to scoop out some clay and daub
it on the other.

“I wish I could see what I looked like,” laughed Tessa
after a while.

“So do I,” I agreed, only realising a moment later
what I had said, but Tessa didn’t seem to think
anything of it.  “I mean, we must both look so funny. 
Let’s go up to the showers and see if we can take
showers.  Then we can see what we look like.”

“I hope there’s nobody there at this time,” Tessa
agreed.  “But we need to get really clean, or people
will know where we’ve been tomorrow morning and we’ll
get into trouble.”

We got to our feet and made our way over to the
stream, our footsteps heavy in the newly unearthed
clay.  We found a flat area where the water ran slowly
and rolled in it, getting as much dirt off as
possible.  I leaned down and grabbed Tessa as she
rolled, tickling her.  She laughed, and attacked me. 
The two of us rolled together in the water, our naked
bodies pressed against each other, Tessa’s body still
warm and soft and slippery as it pressed against my
chest, my side, my thighs, even my loins.  I felt a
warmth of excitement in my loins as if I was ready to

Finally we lay there with the cool water flowing over
us, panting for breath.  Tessa was lying sprawled
almost on top of me, her wet slippery skin pressed
against my chest, one arm across my shoulders.  I
wrapped my arms around her as best I could, one arm
over her back and the other resting on her bare
bottom.  I hadn’t meant to put it there, but she
didn’t object at all, so I let it stay.  The moon was
almost dazzling as it shone down on us, and the only
sound was our panting breath and the gurgling of the

I think we could almost have gone to sleep there.  But
finally Tessa gave a sigh, stretched herself and
clambered slowly to her feet.  “I’m sure we’re still
dirty and need the showers,” she said.  “Oh, no!  We
forgot to bring towels.  And soap!”

No, it certainly hadn’t been a very practical idea on
my part.  I had been so wrapped up in my romantic
ideas that I had never given the practical aspects a
thought.  Still, we were stuck with the situation now
and had to do the best we could with it.

Feeling more exposed now we were naked, we moved
carefully up among the rocks, up the stream, and then
headed for the showers.  It was easy to see because
the building was the only place, apart from lights in
the dining area and near the toilet holes, where the
electric lights were left on all night.  We scuttled
among the trees, and as we drew nearer the lighted
building we became more nervous, aware that if anybody
was around at this time, they might see us against the

“Shall we shower together?” I whispered hopefully.

“If you like,” Tessa answered without hesitation. 
“Let’s do it in the girls’ side.  There’s a bolt on
the door we can pull so nobody can come in.”

I didn’t know if the boys’ side had a bolt as well,
but I was happy enough.  My big fear had been that
somebody would come, even at that time of night, and
catch us, and there would be nothing we could do to
stop them.

When we drew close to the girls’ side, I suggested we
crawl along the ground to get inside so our shadows
wouldn’t be visible.  The rain had settled the dust,
but in any case we were dirty enough anyway.  The open
door stood at the other side of a little clearing
about ten metres away.  We would have to cross that,
exposed by the light shining through it.

As we were entering the girls’ side, Tessa went first,
and I saw her little dirty bottom from behind as she
scrambled her way, as low as she could go, across the
last ten metres and in at the entrance.  If the light
had been outside rather than inside the building, I
would have had a view to remember.

Heart in my mouth, I scrambled after her.  The inside
of the girls’ toilets was similar to the boys’, except
of course there were no urinals.  The showers were
lined up along one side.  We stopped and looked at
each other inside, and I’m sure with Tessa it wasn’t
to view me naked but to see how dirty I was.

Tessa had greyish-black stains all over her body,
especially her face.  Downstairs I could just see the
indentation of her vagina, but she was still very
muddy down there.  My penis was also almost
unrecognisable under the remains of the mud.  Even the
flowing stream had not washed off the evidence.  We
looked at each other and laughed.

“Look, there’s some soap!” exclaimed Tessa, picking up
a large bar that presumably one of the girls had left
behind.  “We can get clean now!”

“We’d better bolt the door first,” I suggested,
nervous of being caught by any girl who decided she
needed to defecate late at night.  I examined the door
quickly.  There was indeed a rusty old bolt on the

I swung the door shut and then tried to fix the bolt. 
But it was not properly opposite the old socket and I
couldn’t force it home.  Tessa came to help me and we
heaved together, but in vain.

Then suddenly I stopped.  I heard a female laugh not
far away.  We froze.  Somebody was coming – and since
sane people don’t generally laugh alone, we could
expect at least two visitors.

(To be continued)


“Quick!  We must get out!” I exclaimed.  I didn’t know
who was coming, but this was the only place they could
come to, it could only be somebody from camp, and
since it was female laughter it was logical to assume
they would be coming to the female ablutions – where
Tessa and I were.

She at least was in the right place, even if at a
dubious time and very dirty, whereas my presence in
the female ablutions would not be so easily explained,
even if I were clothed and clean.  A mistake in the
dark, perhaps?  Unlikely.  I felt too guilty to risk
trying it on.

The walls were high, but there were gaps at the top. 
I might just be able to scale a wall and scramble
over, but it would be risky.  Tessa certainly couldn’t
with her sore ankle and I couldn’t leave her in the
lurch.  Then the obvious idea came to me.  I could
lock myself in a toilet cubicle.

“Roy, in the toilets!” hissed Tessa urgently, clearly
having the same idea.  She nipped inside a toilet
cubicle down the far end and stood there with her face
around the door, urging me to do the same.

I heard more laughter outside and also the sound of a
male voice.  Immediately I guessed who it was likely
to be, as I shot into the cubicle next to Tessa, shut
the door behind me and bolted it.

Sure enough, it was Lloyd and Tara, talking and
laughing as they visited the ablutions.  In a moment I
could make out the words they were using.

“No, Lloyd, I said no,” came Tara’s voice rather
anxiously from just outside.  “Maybe someday, but not
yet, not at camp.  If somebody finds out, we’ll be in
a hell of a lot of trouble, and Linda’s coming up as
soon as she’s got her towel.  Now go on, you shower in
the boys’ side and I’ll see you afterwards.  Go on, I
need the loo or I’m going to burst!”

I heard some grumbles from Lloyd and the two
apparently parted.  I heard Tara push the door open
and call out, “Hello, anybody here?”  Perhaps finding
the door unusually shut had made her suspect there was
somebody there already.  My heart was in my mouth,
because if she checked the cubicles and found two of
them locked, we might have a problem.

But girls who are going to burst aren’t concerned
about that.  I heard a cubicle near the door slam, a
quick slither of textile material coming off, and the
sudden splashing of urine in a toilet bowl,
accompanied by a heartfelt sigh of relief.  When the
splashing stopped, there was a tearing of toilet paper
and then the flush.  The door banged open, and at the
same time there was the noise of somebody arriving.

There were too little “Oohs,” perhaps from two girls
who had almost collided, and then came Linda’s voice,
“Oh, it’s you, Tara, you startled me.”  At the same
moment came the distant splashing of water turned on
in the boys’ section.  Lloyd was presumably taking a
shower.  I felt amazed that anybody, even a leader,
could take two showers in one day – or, on this
particular day, three.

I knelt down on the toilet floor to look at what was
happening under the small gap at the bottom.  I did
not dare go right down to ground level in case they
should look in my direction and see me watching them
from the floor.  At first I just saw the bottom part
of the two girl leaders, from the thighs downwards.  I
was too scared of being seen to look further up.

The showers were along the wall to the right of my
cubicle.  I saw the legs and skirt hem of one girl
step over to a shower in the middle.  The skirt went
up a little, almost but not quite to her bottom.  A
moment later water came cascading down.  The legs
stood there for perhaps 20 seconds.  I guessed it was
Linda, recognising her skirt, and she had reached
upwards to turn on the taps for a shower and was then
checking the water to adjust the temperature.

The other pair of legs joined her at the next shower
head, closer to us, and the same thing happened, only
this time first the owner bent down to straighten the
wooden frame that covered the floor under the shower. 
I was just in time to catch a sight of Tara’s white
cotton panties at the back before she straightened up
again and turned on the water.

With that sight came the anticipation of what would be
happening in the next few minutes.  I felt a tingling
in my penis and my bladder suddenly felt very tight. 
I clutched my penis just before I wet myself – or
rather wet the floor, since I was still naked and
carrying my shorts with me.

The two pairs of legs left the showers running and
walked down to the benches on the opposite wall.  As I
watched, both turned round, bottoms sat on the benches
almost simultaneously, and a foot was raised on to the
bench.  Hands went down to remove shoes and socks, and
I had a clear view of two pairs of white panties,
Linda’s looking the frillier of the two.  Confident in
the knowledge that no male eyes could possibly see
them inside the girls’ shower area, they took no
trouble at all to guard their panties from view.

Shoes and socks removed, the legs stood up.  I could
restrain myself no longer.  I had to risk being seen. 
Moving my head back a little to lessen the chances of
my being spotted, I pressed it down against the floor
so I could see both girls from head to foot.  At that
age I didn’t realise that as long as I kept my head
out of direct light, the dark shadow under the door
would make it virtually impossible for anybody outside
to see my face even if they were looking very
carefully.  It was pitch dark inside the cubicle, so I
was safer than I thought.

I stared, terrified that the girls would look this way
and see me, ready to jerk my head back immediately if
they should look in my direction.  Tara was wearing a
dress, so her hands went up to her neck to undo her
buttons.  Linda was wearing a skirt and blouse.  She
slipped off her blouse, revealing a swollen frilly
white bra hanging down her front, and then began to
slip off her skirt.

She stood there for a moment in her frilly white
underwear and then began to remove that as well.  I
panted for breath.  In the meantime Tara was stepping
out of her dress, showing again her plain white
panties with a smaller bra above.

The bras came off, and then both slipped out of their
panties.  They were chatting to each other all the
time as they did so, and everything happened so fast I
couldn’t take it all in.  I wished I could use a
slow-motion replay to celebrate that first view, but I
was to have plenty of time to savour the pleasures
just unwittingly revealed to me.

It was too much for my eyes to take in as they walked
over to the showers, facing me as they did so.  I just
had an overall view of breasts and public hair, and it
all happened too quickly and overwhelmingly for me to
concentrate on any detail.  They stepped into the
showers, still chatting away, but the noise of the
water drowned out their actual words.

If this had happened at the naturist club, I would
scarcely have noticed their bodies, apart from a
brief, fairly cold scientific appraisal of what was on
offer.  But this was a different world, a textile
world, and here were two teenage girls who always kept
themselves well covered and whom I had never seriously
expected to see naked at all.  Suddenly I was here in
the right place at the right time, and what had until
now been forbidden and unimaginable was happening
right in front of my eyes.  It was almost too exciting
to bear, and I clutched my penis desperately as I
crouched on the floor, feeling I was about to burst
with excitement.

As the two girls faced each other and chatted in the
showers, Tara had her back to me, displaying a white
bottom and bikini lines.  I realised that, from the
conversation outside, this was something even Lloyd
had probably not seen yet.

Linda was facing me.  As the boys in camp with an
interest in that sort of thing had already noticed,
she had the largest breasts of the four girl leaders. 
They hung down a little like two large white melons,
and wobbled as she moved.  I watched in fascination as
she washed them, and they bounced all over the place. 
She had a large bush of light brown pubic hair further
down, which covered her vagina.

I was impatient to see Tara in similar detail, but I
had to wait until they had finished showering, as she
had her back to me most of the time, although I did
get occasion glimpses from the side.  And at one stage
Tara spread her legs to wash under her crotch and
then, legs still apart, bent a little to wash down her
thighs.  Between her legs I could see just a little
tuft of darker brown pubic hair as she bent.

Finally the girls finished their showers, turned them
off and walked back to the benches.  They picked up
their towels and began to dry themselves, facing in my
direction most of the time as they continued to chat. 
With the water off, I could now hear what they were
saying, but I was so fascinated by the scenery I can’t
remember anything of their conversation.

Tara had smaller breasts than Linda, rather pointed,
and the dark brown pubic hair I had glimpsed earlier. 
There was a slightly darker line down the middle where
her vagina was.  I stared in awe as she squatted
slightly to dry herself between her legs, rubbing up
and down vigorously at her pubic hair to make sure
that was dry.  My only regret was that it was not
Wendy.  She was my favourite, and I really wished she
had been there as well.

Do I have a lucky star?  Tara and Linda were just
beginning to dress after drying themselves when I
heard more voices outside.  The door was pushed open,
and in walked Lisa and Wendy.  My heart suddenly felt
fit to burst out of my chest.  Could it be – were
these two now coming for showers as well?

As the door opened, Tara and Linda quickly backed away
towards the corner, aware that they could be seen from
outside with the light on.  Laughing, they grabbed
their towels to cover their half-dressed bodies.

“Ha, caught you in your knickers!” laughed Lisa as she
came in with Wendy close behind.  “We’ve got all the
campers out there to watch you two!”

“At least we’ve got good quality panties to show
them,” smiled Tara in return, dropping her towel as
Wendy closed the door.  “Not those raggedy old things
you wear, Lisa.”

“Do you really think I’m going to waste my best
designer panties at a scruffy camp like this?” laughed
Lisa in return.

“Come on, let’s have a look at them,” grinned Linda,
reaching out a hand and pulling up Lisa’s skirt.  I
just had a quick glimpse of something white before
Lisa, squealing and laughing, pulled away and minced
around the room holding her skirt tightly around her

“Hey, do you remember those silly games we used to
play at junior school, pulling up each others’
dresses?” laughed Tara, slipping her dress on over her
head.  “That was so naughty, but it was fun!”

“And do you remember that time old Miss Disbury was
looking out of her study window and saw us?” giggled
Linda.  She put on an affected pose and a old, stern
voice.  “Girls, I would have you know that is most
unladylike behaviour, and it is hardly appropriate for
my school.  You will in future treat each other with
greater respect.”

“If you do it again, I will confiscate your dresses,”
added Lisa in a similar tone, and they all shrieked
with laughter.

“Oh, she didn’t say *that*!” exclaimed Tara, still
laughing.  “And the moment we left her office, we did
it again – like this!”  She shot out a hand and lifted
Wendy’s skirt at the back, showing the entire rear of
Wendy’s white panties.  Wendy squealed, startled, and
pulled it down again.

Laughing, Linda pulled up Lisa’s skirt again, and I
had a better view this time of off-white panties,
before Lisa turned back and returned the compliment. 
For a few seconds the four of them were little girls
again, lifting each other’s skirts and squealing with
laughter.  But they were older now, and I had only
just started believing my eyes when they collapsed
together on the benches, laughing helplessly.

“Oh, if the kids could see us now,” cackled Linda,
slapping her knees in hilarity.  “They’d think we were
crazy!  Imagine their little eyes goggling as they
stare at Lisa’s panties, wondering if they’re going to
fall to pieces at any moment.”

“Well, we don’t go round showing the kids,” Lisa
reminded her with a smile.  “Except for dear Wendy
here.  Hey, Wendy, didn’t your mother ever tell you to
sit like a lady?  I saw you sitting there during the
bedtime story with your knees up and your arms around
them, and your little panties sticking out at the
bottom.  If I saw them, others must have seen them,
too.”  Yes, including Roy.  But I didn’t want Wendy
frightened off.

Wendy was smiling, but her cheeks were red.  “It
doesn’t matter,” she shrugged, embarrassed.  “I bet
you forget as well sometimes.”

“You are the most forgetful of us, Wendy,” chimed in
Linda.  “Remember Miss Disbury – “ (she put on a bossy
adult voice again) “‘Sit like a lady, my girl.’  And
the moment she disappears, what do we do?  Pthttt!” 
She pulled a raspberry, spread her legs wide and
lifted her knees high, giving me a full view of the
gusset of her panties, and the four girls all
collapsed into helpless giggles.

The subject changed, and they chatted for another
couple of minutes.  Then Linda and Tara stood up and
took their leave.  “Enjoy your shower, girls,” Linda
wished them as they opened the door and walked out. 
“And if I see little Mickey wandering around, I’ll
send him up your way.”

“No, thanks,” laughed Wendy, backed up by Lisa.  She
went over to the showers the other two had just
vacated, and turned on the nearer one to her – which
was the further one to me.  Anticipating what was
coming, my penis spurted before I could grab it.

I crouched there on the floor, clutching it tightly in
my fist, while Wendy reached up to turn on the shower.
 Lisa joined her, turning on the one nearer to me.  I
just couldn’t contain my impatience as they stood
there testing the water before doing any more, and I
groaned aloud.  It can only have taken about five
seconds as the first two had warmed them up already,
but it seemed like an eternity to me.  I was utterly
desperate to see that gorgeous laughing blonde Wendy
undressing for her shower.

It was hard controlling the noise of my breathing as
the girls, chatting away as girls always seem to, left
the showers running and returned to the benches.  They
sat down to remove their shoes and socks, again
believing they were unobserved and so taking no
trouble to hide their panties.

Then came the vital moment as they stood and began to
unbutton their dresses.  Lisa was the quicker of the
two, and she slithered out of her dress, showing a
very utilitarian bra underneath, together with those
old panties the girls had laughed at, both an
off-white colour.  She was peeling them off as Wendy
was still removing her dress, which also had a fiddly
button to undo at the back by her neck.

I just remember a blur of white body and black pubic
hair as Lisa walked over to the toilet first, as my
eyes were straining at Wendy, cursing the button at
the back which must have taken five more unending
seconds for her to undo.  Then finally she managed to
slip her dress off.  I had caught an occasional
glimpse of a bra strap before, and twice the inside of
her bra under her armpit via a loose sleeve.  But this
was the first time I had seen it properly, small and
tight.  And I was also able to see in their entirety
her soft white panties.

But within a moment in real time, a never-ending
eternity to my impatient eyes, they too were gone. 
She slipped off her bra, revealing broad breasts that
from the front looked like little more than the chest
of a muscular boy, except she had larger areolas. 
Then, more awesome still, she slipped off her panties,
tossed them on to the bench and also began to walk
towards the toilets to my left.

Her vaginal area was exposed to me in all its glory. 
She had a tangle of hair there almost as golden as
that on her head, perhaps a little darker, but not as
thick.  I don’t know whether it had never fully grown
or whether she trimmed it, but it was not very clear
to see against the white of the loins, and it was
quite easy to identify her vagina through it, blurred
through it was due to the criss-crossing of the hair.

I felt so dizzy with the excitement I felt I was going
to faint.  This awesome, delightful goddess was
finally exposed to me, so unexpectedly, in all her
beauty, a treat that was the more awesome because I
had never seriously imagined it until a few minutes
earlier.  I was so glad to see that her body was not
overdeveloped, breasts small, not too much hair
downstairs, still something of a little-girl look
about her.  That has always been the sort of girl I

Lisa emerged from the toilet as Wendy went in, and she
went over to the shower.  I saw her from the side as
she took her soap and began to wash, catching a
glimpse of black pubic hair.  I could hear nothing
from Wendy in the toilet with the showers running and
Lisa’s toilet flushing, but I felt glad.  I felt that
would have been a little too undignified for this
young leader I had worshipped from a distance.  She
came out and my heart and bladder responded again as
she headed for her shower.

I was most uncomfortable, crouching there on the
floor, chin touching the ground, one hand resting
under my head to soften that floor, the other
regularly grabbing my penis as it kept trying to spurt
liquid.  But I wouldn’t have changed that position for
all the luxuries in the world, seeing what I was
seeing.  I gazed at my beautiful Wendy, standing there
naked in the showers and facing me as she chatted to
Lisa, water cascading over her hair and shoulders,
down her body, over her broad breasts and right down
into her pubic hair and down her legs.  She was
totally awesome, completely overwhelming.  I felt as
if my heart would burst with love for her.

Finally they considered themselves washed, and
switched off the showers, turned their backs to me and
walked back to the benches, dripping water.  They took
their towels and began to dry themselves.  For the
first time I studied the unclothed Lisa.  She was tall
and quite thin, her breasts small but firm-looking,
and her pubic hair was thick and black, giving no
glimpse of the vagina it was hiding.

As they were drying themselves, I could hear what they
were saying to each other again now the showers had
stopped running.  “No sign of *little Mickey* yet,”
laughed Wendy, but the way she said it implied she
disliked him.

“Jolly glad, too.  He’s a horrible child,” was Lisa’s
verdict as she spread her legs and dried underneath

“Yes, when I first saw him I thought he seemed so
sweet – Maxi too,” said Wendy, standing tall and
rubbing gently under her breasts with her towel.  “But
it didn’t take long to see what they’re both really
like.  You can see why they chose them for the film –
they’re small, they look so cute and they’ve plenty of
confidence.  But really, they’re just spoilt brats! 
Maxi is *so* fussy about everything in the tent –
everything must be perfect, everybody must do what she
wants.  I really need to be stricter with her.”

“It didn’t take Mickey long to get into fights, so the
other kids soon found out what he’s like,” said Lisa. 
“On the very first day he had that bust-up with that
German boy, whatever his name is.  Then did you see,
at tea today, Roy clouted him.  Kirsty in my tent
assured me that Mickey had started it all, but she got
very muddled when I asked her what it was all about. 
But Roy seems quite a gentleman, so it probably wasn’t
his fault.”

“Yes, Roy seems a really nice kid,” smiled Wendy.  It
thrilled me to hear my goddess’s good opinion of me. 
“Like you say, he seems quite a little gentleman,
while most of the other boys are – well . . .”

“Savages.  Cavemen,” laughed Lisa, finishing it off
for her.  “Mickey can turn on the charm when he wants,
he’s brilliant at that, but we know what he’s really
like now.  And another thing about Roy.  Most of the
boys here are still too young, the testosterone hasn’t
hit them yet, so they’re just not interested in girls,
apart from some of them who are just plain silly.  But
Roy really does treat them like a gentleman, he knows
how to relate to them.”  I swelled with pride, and
wished Wendy had said that.

“Yes, he always seems to be with your Kirsty,”
observed Wendy.

“Well, I think that’s more Kirsty chasing him than the
other way round,” replied Lisa.  She spread her towel
on the bench and sat on it, without troubling to
dress.  Wendy gave her pubic hair a careful rub to
remove any remaining droplets of water and sat next to
her.  “I think the one Roy’s really interested in is
that little Tessa – you know, the one who was getting
teased on the bus because her panties showed through
her shorts.  I saw him trying to help her with her
luggage when we arrived here – for a boy of ten,
that’s almost unheard of!  He seemed pretty shy to
make contact with her, actually, but he tried to do it
in a sensible way, and they seem to have – well, found
each other now and I suspect they’re quite close.”

I almost laughed with the irony of it all.  Yes, Tessa
and I were much closer than Lisa suspected – to each
other and to them!

“Have you got a nice bunch of girls?” asked Wendy.

“Oh, yes, on the whole,” answered Lisa, sitting back
and crossing her right shin over her left thigh,
leaving the black mass of pubic hair clearly in the
background.  “Kirsty is rather a little madam at
times, the village gossip who knows everybody’s
secrets, and she is such a liar!  Over-active
imagination, perhaps I should say.  I’ve never known a
bunch of girls that age talk so much about – well,
sexual things, and it’s mainly because of Kirsty, I’m

“What does she say?” asked Wendy.

“She has a thing about penises,” replied Lisa with a
giggle, her tone of voice showing a smidgen of amused
contempt as well.  “She says that the German boy –
Ernst, isn’t he called? – she says he has a massive

“I think the boys started that,” commented Wendy.

“Yes, well, according to Tara, who says according to
Lloyd it’s true,” went on Lisa.  “But my Kirsty, of
course, claims that she’s actually seen it.  They
think I don’t hear them chattering, of course, but I
do.  She won’t say where or how, but insists she has. 
But I don’t think many of the girls believe her.  And
then tonight one of the other girls told me that
Kirsty claims she’s also seen Mickey’s penis and that
it’s very tiny.”

Wendy laughed, but sounded a little embarrassed. 
“Well, that’s just what you’d expect, I suppose,
because he’s so small himself,” she smiled.  Little
did she know.  “But maybe we should have words with
Madam Kirsty, because she shouldn’t be going round
talking like this, at her age.  It can’t possibly be
true, so she’s lying as well.”

“Oh, there are no bicycle sheds here to hide behind,
like at school, so she probably takes boys off to the
rocks or somewhere, a different boy at a time, and
they examine each other there,” laughed Lisa, her tone
of voice showing that she meant this as no more than a

“The bicycle sheds?  Did you actually go behind the
bicycle sheds with a boy?” Wendy asked her, laughing
and sounding a bit incredulous.

“Oh, yes, I did once in Year Six,” smiled Lisa, happy
to talk about it.  “You remember Tony?”  Wendy nodded,
looking surprised.  “I went there with him after
sports one afternoon.  My pubic hair was just starting
to grow” – she gave it a rub and a scratch - “and I
felt so frightened but I just had to show some boy I
was growing up.  So we went there and did it very
quickly, we just pulled our pants down to our knees
and had a look at each other and that was it.  He had
no hair then.  Didn’t you?”

“Well – not at school,” giggled Wendy, turning
slightly red.  “I do remember, though – when I was
about eight, I was in the bedroom of the boy next
door, and his mother nipped out to the shops for a few
minutes, and we had a quick game of doctors and
nurses.  He pushed my – my vagina with his finger,
though, and it was a bit sore, so I stopped him and
wouldn’t do it with him any more.”

“I wonder if these kids play those sort of games?”
mused Lisa.  “But really, I just can’t believe Kirsty
has seen two boys naked here in camp.  I agree, if I
hear any more I’ll have a few words with the little
lady.”  I couldn’t help grinning.  Kirsty’s tally was
at least three boys so far on camp.

“And we’ll keep a bit of an eye on her, and see if she
really does sneak off anywhere,” added Wendy.

“Actually, talking of – well - penises, did I tell you
I saw Roy’s penis the other night?” asked Lisa.  She
gave a giggle.  My heart did a flip.  “On the first
night of camp, actually.  When the kids came for their
bedtime story he was wearing a very loose pair of
shorts.  He was sitting next to Kirsty and he had his
knees up like this and wrapped his arms round them”
she demonstrated, “and down at the bottom I could see
his little testicles hanging down.  Kirsty was next to
him and she was acting a bit silly, I think.

“He sat there like that all the time, and then at the
end of the story he had a good stretch and pushed his
legs out in front of him” again she demonstrated, “and
the leg of his shorts went up, and you could see his
penis right inside.”

“Oh, you’re so lucky,” Wendy told her enviously.  “I
think boys are so cute that age when they’re naked. 
They haven’t any hair yet and their penises are –
well, just so small and cute.  I hope Roy didn’t have
a big ugly one like Ernst!  I don’t want to imagine
him that way.”

“No, it looked quite normal,” Lisa assured her.  “But
he’s worn different shorts in the evenings since then,
so you can’t see anything.  Maybe he realised what he
was doing.”

“Oh, no, Lisa, I’ve missed my chance,” groaned Wendy
with a smile.  “I’d have given so much for a glimpse
of his penis – they’re just so cute at that age.  And
he may not even mind – I heard one of the girls say
he’s a naturist.”

“He won’t get much chance to be a naturist on this
camp,” laughed Lisa.  “Come on, Wendy, when you see
him tomorrow, you can just go up to him and say,
‘Excuse me, Roy, could you take your clothes off for
me, please?’, and I’m sure he’ll be only too pleased
to oblige, being the little gentleman he is.  He likes
you, Wendy, I’m sure of it.  I’ve seen him watching
you sometimes.”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that, I’d get sent home in
disgrace if I started – well, if I started behaving
like Kirsty, if she were telling the truth,” smiled
Wendy.  “Ooh, I just wish you’d – told me that first
night.  You know, I just feel so – so soft for these
little boys when I see them naked.”

“Well, you’ll have lots of chances when you’re a
nurse,” Lisa replied.  “You can just say, ‘Take your
clothes off, my boy,’ and they’ll have to obey whether
they like it or not.  Maybe you’ll have Roy as one of
your patients.”

“It’ll be too late then, he’ll be big and hairy by the
time I qualify,” smiled Wendy.  “Besides, I’d never
want to embarrass any boy or force them to undress for
me.  It’s just so sweet, though, when sometimes you
get those, even that age, who will change their
clothes when you’re there and think nothing of it.”

“Well, Roy might be one of those,” suggested Lisa. 
“You’ll be able to come back tomorrow and tell me if
he’s circumcised.”

“No, we don’t get situations like that in this camp,”
sighed Wendy.  “I mean, all the changing is done in
tents or in these showers.”

“Ask Kirsty for a few tips,” laughed Lisa, joking.  “I
can just see you and Roy sneaking off into hiding
during free time tomorrow and playing doctors and

“You really do want me sent home!” accused Wendy,
shaking with laughter.

“Well, you’ll just have to hope you can catch him
having a wee behind a bush then or something,” smiled
Lisa.  “I caught one of the boys the other day up at
the rocks – I just saw him from the back, though, and
he put his equipment away and scurried off bright

“You have all the luck,” sighed Wendy wistfully, but
she was still smiling.  “Still, I don’t suppose we
should be thinking about little boys naked at our age.
 But they look so cute then, before puberty.  When
they get big and hairy – well, they just look ugly.”

“Maybe you can get a look at Ernst and see what size
his equipment really is,” suggested Tessa
light-heartedly.  “One of the girls who goes to the
same school says they call him Mr Sausage Man.  But
she says she’s never seen it, and doesn’t want to. 
But when have you ever seen an older boy naked – past

“Only my brother,” replied Wendy.  “I wonder if they
think the same way about us – that we’re cute when
we’re small and hairless, and then turn ugly when we
get our breasts and pubic hair and have our periods
and so on?”

“I doubt it – they’re only interested in sex,”
answered Lisa cynically.

“Not boys like Roy, I’m sure,” said Wendy.  “I just
wish he was ten years older – I’d have loved to have
him asking me out for a date and so on.  I can imagine
him bringing me flowers and opening the car door for
me and – well, just holding hands without trying to
get me to bed with him and all that sort of thing.  He
just seems the sort of thoughtful boy who would do

Overwhelming feelings of love for Wendy were gushing
into my heart by now and I could hardly control them. 
In my then immature way I was convinced that Wendy was
in love with me just as I was with her.  I wished so
much that Lisa go away and leave Wendy alone, still
naked of course, and then I thought I would burst out
of my cubicle, also naked, and we would fall into each
other’s arms, and then of course a big ugly tramp
would burst in and try to get off with Wendy, and I
would protect Wendy and hit the tramp so hard he would
get knocked out and run away and . . .  I had
completely forgotten Tessa for the present.

All the time Lisa and Wendy had been sitting on the
benches facing me, but I was well back in the dark and
out of their view.  But mine was heavenly – Wendy with
her golden curls around her loins and through them the
darker line that was her vagina, with the brighter
pink skin at the bottom without hair.  Lisa’s thicker
mass of pubic hair obscured her vagina most of the
time, but every now and then she would spread her legs
a bit or lift one up, and it was just possible to see
her vagina, larger and wider than Wendy’s I’m sure,
appearing at the bottom, and that large pink area of
skin that formed her perineum.

But now, while I was still feasting my eyes hungrily
on what was an incredible sight to a ten-year-old,
even a naturist one, they decided it was time to move
on.  They began to talk of some of the other children,
but as they did so they walked over to the mirrors on
the side wall, side on to me, and began to pay
attention to their hair.  This as always with girls
took quite a time, and then they finally reached for
their clothes and began to put them on again – bras
and panties, then dresses over the top.

I felt totally exhausted.  I still crouched there
uncomfortably on the floor, unwilling to miss a moment
of the sight of my goddess, even when she was clothed.
 But finally, without ceremony, they picked up their
towels, opened the door and disappeared into the

I slumped against the wall of the toilet, quite
drained.  Then suddenly my bladder came into action,
and I just managed to catch my penis before it spurted
on the floor.  I staggered on to the toilet seat and
let it go, a greater relief than I had ever known.

I had just finished when I heard Tessa’s whisper from
the next cubicle.  “Roy,” she hissed.

I answered, and after a pause she whispered again,
“Roy, do you think they’ve gone?”

“Yes,” I panted.  “We – can come out now.”  I heard
her unbolt her door as I flushed the toilet and then
staggered out into the open, like a drunkard leaving
the pub and tottering into the street after his
umpteenth pint.

Tessa was standing there, naked and dirty.  She stared
at me.  “You look terrible!” she exclaimed.  “Are you
– all right?”

I tried not to groan and nodded.  “Just tired.  And it
was so uncomfortable in there.”

“I thought they’d never go,” continued Tessa, who
obviously didn’t share my sentiments.  “And they sat
there talking for such a long time.  But they said
some nice things about you, Roy!  They like you, I
think – especially Wendy.”

I nodded briefly and changed the subject.  “Shall we
shower now?” I suggested.

Tessa looked thoughtful.  “I hope nobody else comes,”
she said.  “But the teachers can use the showers in
the farmhouse, Lisa told me – so they won’t be coming.
 But I’ve had an idea.  We can take some of the wire
from one of the window catches and use that to wire
the door shut.  Then nobody will come in and catch

“They’ll know somebody’s in, but they won’t be able to
find out who,” I said, knowing that even such an
occurrence would provide us both with a problem.  “But
I’m sure they won’t come.  Let’s do it!”  Again I was
willing to gamble for the delight of showering with

I couldn’t quite reach the wire on the window catches,
used when the catch was broken.  “Let me climb on your
shoulders,” suggested Tessa resourcefully.

I crouched down, listening all the time in case
somebody came.  Tessa put a leg over my shoulder,
wrapped her arms under my chin and then put her other
leg on.  I gave an involuntary shudder in the
knowledge that her little vagina was pressed against
the back of my neck now.  Slowly I pushed myself
upwards until I was standing, very shakily, with one
of Tessa’s arms round my neck and the other pressed
against the wall.

“It’s no use, I can’t quite reach,” she told me.  “Get
down again and I’ll have to stand on your shoulders.”

This time it worked.  She stepped carefully on to my
shoulders, planting her muddy feet right next to my
face.  She wobbled and I wobbled, but we kept our
balance.  Then, struggling to stay balanced and helped
by the wall, I hauled myself slowly upwards again.

“Nearly there,” Tessa told me as I was trying to
straighten my knees.  “Just a bit more – got it!”

I heard her untwisting the wire and then she called
down, “We can go down now.”

I couldn’t resist temptation any longer.  I put my
head up and looked.  For an instant I saw Tessa’s
dirty legs above my head, meeting at the top, with the
indentation of her vagina just evident among the dirt.
 She was looking down at me, and she gave a squeal as
my movement made her feet slip.  Her left foot slipped
right off my shoulder, and she dropped the wire and
grabbed hold of the window sill to save herself.  As I
reached up to try to help her, her hands slipped and
she fell right on top of me.

I think her bottom landed hard on my face and I went
crashing to the ground, with Tessa on top of me.  She
landed straddling my body, fell forward straight on to
my penis and legs, pushed herself up and let out a
laugh, which she immediately stifled.  Then she rolled
off me quickly and turned to look at me, afraid I
might be hurt.  “Roy, are you okay?” she asked me
urgently.  “I’m sorry.”

I felt badly bruised, but had to play the macho role. 
“I’m fine,” I wheezed, struggling to push myself to my
feet while I was aching all over.  “Are you all right?
 I – I just managed to catch you, but it was a bit too
quick to do it properly.”

“Yes, thanks.  You really kept me from falling, but I
didn’t want to hurt you,” she replied.

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” I groaned, feeling as if my
back would never be the same again.  “I’m just glad I
– stopped you from being hurt.”

“Let’s get on quickly now,” suggested Tessa
practically, skipping over to the shower Lisa had used
and switching it on.  She then nipped over to a nearby
shower and returned with a large piece of soap left
behind by one of the girls.

I turned on the shower that Wendy had been using,
thrilled by the thought that I was standing in exactly
the same place as my naked goddess had been standing
perhaps half an hour earlier.  The water was almost
immediately warm.  I stepped into it, as Tessa was
already lathering her body and the clay was beginning
to come off.

I could only stand there waiting for her to finish. 
Her lovely little body glowed in the electric lights,
soft and shiny.  Her chest was quite flat still and
her nipples tiny.  She worked down from her chest,
chatting to me now and then, but she was never a very
talkative girl.  Then she spread her legs, bent her
knees, put her hands down and started working on the
clay still on the skin between her legs.

She was facing me, quite unashamed.  Her little vagina
was smooth and well rounded, a delight to behold.  I
felt I had to say something and burst out foolishly,
“Do you – often shower with boys?”

She looked up at me, surprised, still soaping with her
hands.  “No,” she answered.  “Why?”

“Well, you – don’t seem to mind me being here.  When
you’re taking a shower, that is,” I bumbled.

“No, well, you’re not silly about it,” she remarked,
as if that was all there was to it.  And I suppose it
did say everything, and I was so pleased.  She trusted
me completely.

I was still beaming with pleasure while she washed her
legs and feet, and then rubbed her hands hard on the
soap, working up some more lather.  She held out her
hand with the soap in it, and as I reached out to take
it, she stepped out of her shower and into mine,
planting her soapy hands on my chest and wiping them
all over it, laughing with glee as she did so.

I dropped the soap, taken by surprise, and then
reached out to grab her in fun.  I grabbed her
slippery smooth skin under the armpits and tickled
her.  She squealed and dropped to her knees, laughing.
 Then she reached out her arms and grabbed me tightly
round the knees.  I lost my balance and fell
backwards, putting out my hands behind me to break my

I was sitting, she was kneeling in my shower, facing
each other and laughing with the fun of it all.  She
jumped on top of me, grabbing for the soap and trying
to soap me again.  I was bigger and stronger, so I
rolled her over on to her back, tickling her as best I
could.  I accidentally tickled her tiny nipples as she
rolled and laughed, but she didn’t seem to notice. 
She gave a sudden gasp of pain amid her laughter, and
I quickly remembered how fragile girls are, even
tomboys, and stopped being so rough.  I suppose all
boys want to leave girls in no doubt as to their

As I attacked her tummy, she spread her legs in an
attempt to sit up.  I could see the whole length of
her vagina between her legs now, with a little V shape
at the top where her clitoris appeared.  It was gone
in a moment as she rolled over, but I leaned forward
and pinned her down again.  “Give up?” I laughed at

“Yes, I give up,” she laughed at me.

With the water still pouring on to my back, I stood up
and allowed her to rise as well.  I suddenly wondered
if we were making too much noise and might attract
attention, but I could do nothing about it, as she
jumped forward and wrapped her arms round my neck,
wrestling with me.  As we probably both knew I would,
I wrestled her to the ground again and we lay there
together, laughing and spluttering, her slippery soft
wet skin under my fingers all the time.

In the end we were both tired.  The thought suddenly
came to me of what might happen if somebody heard us
and came to investigate us, a naked boy and girl
rolling on the floor together.  I got to my feet with
some unease and carried on soaping myself with the
soggy piece of stuff that was now the soap.

“Your back’s dirty,” Tessa told me.  “Shall I wash it
for you?”

I agreed, and stood there as she took the soap and
washed my back firmly all over, her hands going down
right to my bottom without any apparent inhibitions as
she cleaned me off.  “Now let me wash your back,” I
told her.

She turned round, presenting her smooth back with a
patch of brownish-white for a bikini top and a much
whiter patch for the bottom.  Apparently she did not
always use a top, but she certainly didn’t need one. 
I soaped and rubbed her lovely smooth, slippery back,
and didn’t seem to mind at all as I ventured downwards
and cleared a few smears she had left on her bottom.

We had no towels, so when we had finished washing we
walked about or sat on the benches and chatted on and
off until we were dry.  Tessa’s lovely little body
glowed in the electric lights and her face glowed as
she smiled more widely and often than I had seen her
do before.

The talk gradually slowed as I think we were both
feeling very tired.  Eventually, with the greatest
reluctance, we slipped our pyjamas back on again. 
Listening carefully and rather fearfully, I unwired
the door and we slipped guiltily into the open again. 
We were silent as we found our way back towards camp,
which was very difficult until our eyes had adjusted
to the darkness again.

We avoided the big rock where we had first intended to
meet, although I was sure Lloyd and Tara would not be
there any longer.  But we came to the place where we
had to part and go our different ways.

“I wish you could come into our tent,” whispered
Tessa, sweetly, wistfully and naively.

“Me too,” I agreed.  “Maybe – when we leave camp you
can come and stay with us or something.”

“That would be lovely,” she breathed, and I could see
her smile in the moonlight.  “You’re my best friend.”

I was just digesting that when suddenly she threw her
arms round my neck and gave me a big wet kiss next to
my ear.  Before I had time to respond, she said,
“Night,” and her shadow flitted off towards the girls’

I wandered back to my tent as if in a dream.  I should
have been thrilled at what Tessa had said and what she
had done, but it was seriously tempered with regrets
that I had not responded properly, that I hadn’t been
quick enough to tell her that I loved her or able to
return her kiss.

Then thoughts came flooding back of Wendy, and all she
had said about me.  She liked me!  Maybe she even
loved me!  What could I do about it?  And I had seen
her naked!  That was so awesome I still could hardly
believe it.  She had shared her nakedness with me,
though she didn’t know it, and I longed to do the same
for her.  She wanted it too – but how could I ever do
that?  I could never have a shower with her.

I felt so mentally drained and exhausted, such a
mixture of emotions, that when I sneaked back into my
silent tent and slithered into bed, I went under the
covers and shed silent tears into my pillow.  So much
done, and yet so much I hadn’t done, that I wanted to.
 But it didn’t take me long to get to sleep.

Not surprisingly, I woke feeling tired the next
morning.  The previous night’s activities seemed like
a strange but beautiful dream, and I had no idea how I
was going to face Tessa and Wendy that day.  At
breakfast I looked out for them both.  Tessa and I
looked at each other and smiled, she looking as
embarrassed as I probably did.  We didn’t even try to
sit together.  I didn’t know how to handle it
properly, and I’m sure she didn’t either.

I kept looking at Wendy, wearing a pretty dress as
usual.  I tried to imagine her as I had seen her the
previous night, naked, small broad breasts, golden
pubic hair, vagina down the middle of it – and I
couldn’t.  I suddenly began to feel very guilty about
having spied on her, although I didn’t plan it.  She
suddenly turned and caught my eye, and smiled.  I
tried to smile back, but felt myself blushing and
turned away.

I felt more guilty than ever.  She was my goddess –
and I had spied on her, and she didn’t even know it! 
I had to put things right.  I had heard her say she
wished she could see my penis, and I really felt she
ought to, to make up for the sin I had committed
against her.  But how could I possibly do that,
without doing something she might think rude?

Kirsty wasn’t going to be put off.  She came bustling
over and pushed in next to me at the breakfast table,
chattering away when I wanted to be left alone.  Then,
when she had the chance, she whispered to me, eyes
gleaming, “Free time, usual place?”

And usual activities as well, no doubt.  I didn’t
really feel like another session with her right now,
wanting as I did to put things right with Wendy or get
together with Tessa again – or else just to be left
alone.  So I said, “We can’t.  I heard Lisa and Wendy
talking last night.  Lisa says she heard you telling
the other girls you saw Ernst’s penis and Mickey’s
penis.  She said she was going to keep an eye on you
and see what you were doing.”

Kirsty stared at me in shock, her face bright red and
hands to her mouth.  Too late she realised she should
have been more careful.  “Oh, no,” she moaned.  “I
hope we won’t be in trouble.”  Then she looked across
to where I knew Lisa was sitting, not far away from
us.  I didn’t look, afraid I might incriminate myself
as well if Lisa saw me.  Kirsty turned back to me,
sounding very scared.  “She’s watching us!  We may be
in trouble.”

“She doesn’t know for sure,” I reassured her.  “But
she will do if we go off in private again.  I think we
must keep away from each other in free time for a day
or two, until she’s forgotten.  And you must keep your
blabbermouth shut.”

“I will, I will,” Kirsty assured me, which I didn’t
believe for a moment.

Tessa and I did find each other during free time that
morning, and we went together to play in the sand by
the stream.  We didn’t talk much.  I don’t know what
she was thinking, but I was still feeling very guilty
about spying on Wendy.

I thought I had worked out a plan that afternoon, and
was turning it over in my mind, unable to think of
anything else, when Ernst grabbed me, excited.  “Hey,
Roy, guess what?” he grinned.  “Tomorrow morning I –
with Maxi – we’re going to do it.”

“Do what?” I asked, preoccupied.

“You know – poke,” he assured me.  “She wants to,
she’s excited about it too.  We nearly did right now,
but she said there wasn’t time.  So she says we must
do it tomorrow.”

“You mean – you’re going to have sex with her?” I
blurted out.  He nodded, a huge grin of excitement on
his face.

I was appalled.  I could easily imagine what damage a
penis the size of Ernst’s could do to a vagina the
size of Maxi’s.  He could cripple her, and the
consequences for him would be terrible as well.  It
would be like mating a Great Dane with a Chihuahua. 
“Ernst, you mustn’t,” I pleaded with him.  “You –
you’d burst her.  Your penis is too big for her.  Then
you’d get into big, big trouble.”

“No, I won’t, because *she* wants it,” he hissed at
me.  “She won’t tell anybody.  She said she – she
wanted to do everything with me tomorrow.  And we

I shook my head and tried to dissuade him, but it was
no use.  So I put it to the back of my mind as we had
our showers and then went off for our usual swim in
the farm pool.

Tessa and I had not had much contact during the day. 
I think we were both too embarrassed by the intimacy
of the night before, but we did chat and play a bit. 
A lot of the time I kept out of Wendy’s way, ashamed
and guilty about spying on her, though I did watch her
from a distance.  Somehow I felt I couldn’t even talk
to her again until I had put that right.  During
swimming I finalised a daring plan to do that.

It took a lot of courage for me to do it.  Trembling
with nerves, I sidled over to her as we walked back to
the camp after swimming.  Wendy had not been swimming
with the rest of us, as she had scraped her leg during
our free time that morning and had a clean bandage on

She was surrounded as usual by the girl campers who
admired her, but she turned and smiled beautifully at
me as I approached.  “Hey, Roy, you’re cold!” she
exclaimed, seeing me trembling.  “Come!”  She held out
an arm.

I slithered over to her and she put an arm round my
shoulders and rubbed my back.  “Are you feeling all
right?” she asked me.

“Well – mostly,” I answered.  “I’m just – a bit
worried about one thing.  I – I’d like to ask about it
– er – in private sometime.  Is your leg all right

“Yes, certainly,” she smiled.  “Girls, you go ahead
and I’ll catch you up in a minute.  And my leg is
getting better now, thanks, Roy.”

With groans, the girls went on ahead, Wendy having to
shoo some of the more curious ones out of earshot. 
Then she looked down at me, smiled as we walked along
slowly, and asked, “What’s the problem?  Do you think
you’ve got flu?”

“No,” I answered.  “But I – I’ve got a pain – not a
bad one.  It – it’s just under my legs.”  I sensed her
start slightly in surprise.  “It seems a bit swollen
and I’m worried about it.  I mean, I can play games
all right, but it gets sore.”

“You’ve probably just strained something,” she
replied, but she was not quite at ease.

“No, it – seems different from that,” I told her.  “It
seems swollen.  I – I know I should take it to Miss
Winrow but she gets embarrassed too easily.”  Miss
Winrow was the first-aid officer.  Wendy giggled.  “So
– I don’t know if any of the other leaders might be
able to help.  Best somebody who’s going to be a
doctor or a nurse, who might be able to see what’s
wrong and – and won’t feel bad because it’s under my
legs.”  I blurted all that out very awkwardly and
hoped I hadn’t made a mess of things.

“Well, I think there’s only me, I’m going to be a
nurse,” she replied.  She did look embarrassed,
though!  “I mean, I could help you, but – if it’s in a
private place I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“I don’t mind, I’m used to it.  And I trust you,” I

Wendy laughed, but her cheeks were red.  “That’s very
sweet of you,” she replied.  No doubt she was at that
moment battling with a terrific dilemma.  “But –
people might think the wrong thing if I – examined
you,” she went on.  “It could cause a lot of trouble,
because some people might think it was wrong.  I mean,
for a girl like me to examine a boy like you.”

“I won’t tell anybody, I promise,” I assured her.  “I
just want you to have a quick look and see if it’s all
right, that’s all.  I can’t see properly down there,
but it feels swollen.”

She asked me distractedly if I had hurt it at any
time, and I told her I hadn’t.  I didn’t realise then
how much pressure I was putting her under, and the
implications for her if somebody found out she had
been examining me in the way I was asking her.  I’m
sure that inside she was feeling, “This would be my
wish come true, but if I got caught I could be in very
serious trouble.”

“We can just go inside the first-aid tent and you can
look very quickly and tell me if it’s all right,” I
urged her.  “If you keep the flap down nobody will see
and I promise I won’t tell.  It will only take a few
seconds for you to look.”

Wendy wavered and then said, “Oh – all right, I – I’ll
have a quick look when we get back.”  She thought for
a moment and then said, “Look, I’ll go to the
first-aid tent as soon as we get back.  And you can
just follow me inside, and say you want some cream for
a strain if anybody asks you.  That’s probably all it
is, and I’ll put some cream on anyway.  But – we must
be careful, because if – people think the wrong thing
about us, I’ll get into such trouble.”

I agreed, and Wendy said she had better catch up with
her girls.  I trailed behind.  I saw her heading for
the first-aid tent near the dining area as soon as we
arrived back, sending her girls to get changed and
ready for the meal.  Heart thumping, I hung around for
about 20 seconds and then followed her.  Children were
heading for the tents and none of the adult leaders
were in sight.  I slipped inside.

She was waiting for me inside, but she jumped when I
slipped round the tent flap.  “All right, Roy,” she
said very nervously, reaching over and slipping a
string between the flaps to delay anybody trying to
come in.  “We’d better be quick.  Now where is it?”

I stood in front of her, still trembling a bit.  My
fingers felt clumsy as I undid the drawstring in my
costume and then pulled it down past my knees.  My
penis and testicles were still cold from the pool
water and had shrunk, so they were small and smooth. 
I hoped Wendy would approve all the same.  “It’s
underneath,” I said, widening my legs as much as my
costume would allow me.

I noticed Wendy was clutching her hands together so
tightly they were white.  “Just feel – underneath and
see,” I urged her.

“No, Roy, I – I mustn’t touch you,” she said in a
shaky voice.  “But it – doesn’t look swollen
underneath to me.  Where does it hurt?”

“Just here,” I told her, putting a hand under my
testicles and lifting them up so she could see better.
 I felt with my own fingers.  “It doesn’t feel as
swollen as it did this morning,” I told her.

“Maybe the cold water in the pool has brought down the
swelling,” she suggested.  “See how it is tomorrow
morning.  Look, pull your costume up again and I’ll
give you some cream for it.”

So saying, she turned and went over to a medicine
chest lying on the ground.  She hesitated tellingly
for a split second and then bent over the chest.  Her
dress automatically lifted at the back and I could see
her soft white panties.  She pulled a tube out of the
chest and then stood up, self-consciously
straightening her skirt at the back and saying with an
embarrassed smile and slightly flushed cheeks, “I
guess I shouldn’t bend over like this.”  Was she
trying to draw attention to what she had done,
presumably deliberately, or did she just feel she had
to say something?

In any case, she knew I must have seen her panties,
perhaps her gift to me, not knowing I had already had
one.  I felt I had to respond, so I came up as usual
with, “It’s all right, it doesn’t matter,” smiling at
her in what I hoped looked a strong, comforting way.

“Thank you, Roy,” she smiled at me, with more
confidence.  “Now do pull your costume up, and take
some of this cream.  Just rub it underneath when you
get back to your tent, and then some more when you get
up tomorrow morning.  Then we’ll see how it is. 

“Thanks,” I said, and immediately took the cap off the
tube.  I squeezed some of the cream out on to my hand
and started applying it under my crotch while Wendy
urged me again to pull up my costume, no doubt afraid
that somebody might try to come in and catch her with
a naked boy.  Then I remembered something Lisa had
said the previous evening.  “Do you think maybe it’s –
because I need to be circumcised?” I asked, looking up
at her.

She blushed again and I wished I hadn’t said that. 
“No, I – you’ll need to ask your doctor,” she said. 
“But I don’t think that’s anything to do with it.  Now
you must go – come on, Roy, pull up your costume and
you can finish that in your tent.  Please, or somebody
may come in.”

I thought I had put her through a bit too much, so I
pulled up my costume and headed past her for the tent
flap.  On the way I paused, turned, smiled and said,
“Thanks very much, Wendy.  I feel better now.”

She beamed lovingly back at me.  I was sure she must
be thrilled at having her wish to see me penis
fulfilled, and I certainly felt less guilty now.  She
stepped over to me, said, “That’s all right, Roy, you
really are such a fine little boy,” and put her arm
round my shoulders and back.

I wasn’t too happy about the ‘little’ part of it when
I wanted her to admire me, but I accepted the thought
behind it and felt I should respond.  Still smiling at
her, I put an arm round her waist and squeezed.  I
pressed my head against her shoulder for a moment and
could smell something attractive – not perfume,
possibly some kind of powder, but something I liked
that was special to my goddess.

“Oh, Roy!” she exclaimed, and before I knew what was
happening she bent her face down to mine and gave me a
kiss on the cheek.  I hesitated for a moment, and then
decided to go for broke.  I reached up, put my arms
round her neck and returned her kiss.

“Ooh!” she laughed, and then suddenly she looked
worried and let go of me.  “Er – Roy, I . . .” she
began.  She struggled with herself for a moment, and I
was concerned to see the look of concern on her face. 
Then she said, “Roy, I – I’ve been silly.  We
shouldn’t have done that.  Look, I – I mean, if
anybody finds out, I – I’m going to be in trouble. 
Roy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it, and please,
don’t tell anybody what happened – anything about what
happened in here.  Okay?”

I was shocked to see her looking upset when I wanted
her to be happy.  “No, don’t worry, it’s all right,” I
assured her hastily.  “It doesn’t matter, none of it. 
I promise, really, I won’t tell anybody, I won’t get
you into trouble.  It’s a secret, I promise.”  And I
have kept that promise right until now, when it no
longer matters.

She gave a crumpled smile of relief and believed me. 
“Thanks, Roy,” she said warmly.  “It – it’s good to
know you.  Now you’d better be getting back to your
tent.”  Her smile warmed again and her eyes shone at

“All right, and thanks – and it’s a secret,” I assured
her again as I left and headed for the tent.

On the way back again I had mixed emotions, but they
were mostly positive.  I had absolved my guilt by
showing her my penis – and the thrill of kissing each
other!  But I wanted to make her happy, I didn’t want
her to worry, and I was afraid she might still feel
bad about both incidents in the tent.  If anybody else
found out, she would be in trouble.  I knew I would
never tell anybody else, and hoped she would believe
me and trust me.

The more I thought about it, the more urgently I felt
the need to know what she told Lisa about it, as I was
sure she would.  The time and place for that would
probably be the same as the previous evening: in the
girls’ showers.  I felt I really must go back again
and hide in the same place as before, to hear what she
said to Lisa about me.  As long as she didn’t confide
in Lisa first – but there was scarcely time for that,
with supper ready right now.  And, of course, there
was the added sideshow of watching her and the others
taking their showers.

I was very preoccupied for the rest of the day.  I was
cautiously pleased to see Wendy looked very happy
during supper, and gave me a special smile on
occasions when our eyes met.  But I still wanted to
hear what she had to say to Lisa.

I felt tired and ready for bed, but I was burning with
too much curiosity to consider giving up my plan. 
Again I waited a few minutes until all was quiet and
everyone seemed asleep, and then a bit longer because
I knew I would have more time as I was not meeting
Tessa first this time.  Then again I slunk out of the
corner of the tent and made my way up to the ablutions
block, avoiding the rock where Lloyd and Tara were
likely to be.

Without Tessa I felt even more nervous and exposed
about going into the girls’ side of the ablutions
block with the lights on inside.  I waited a long time
to check all was silent, and then scuttled across the
exposed area and inside.  I immediately went into the
same cubicle where I had been the previous evening,
locked it and sat on the floor to wait.

I allowed myself to doze off, knowing that on that
hard floor I wouldn’t sleep deeply and the girls would
wake me when they came in.  That was what happened.  I
suddenly heard voices and laughter as if from a
distant land, and woke up with a fright.

It took me a few seconds to gather my wits, and then
the anticipated excitement woke me up properly.  I put
my head down in the darkness to peer under the door.

All four girls were in together tonight.  My immediate
feeling was one of dismay, because I didn’t know
whether Wendy would want to tell her secret to all
four.  They were turning on the showers and then going
over to the benches to undress as before.

I had seen them do the same thing the previous night,
so this was no novelty or excitement for me – except,
of course, Wendy, as I had developed such a crush on
her.  Virtually ignoring the others, I watched,
fascinated again, as she slipped off her dress and
stood for a moment in her white bra and her usual soft
white panties.  Then, as she took those off, her small
broad white breasts were again exposed to my view, and
her white loins with their light covering of that
golden blonde pubic hair and her darker vagina showing

Annoyingly but I suppose expectedly, she was obscured
by the other girls for most of the time in the shower.
 With four of them showering at the same time,
everything in my vision seemed to be a mass of moving
white arms and legs with white torsos in between.  The
chatting and laughter seemed to be magnified with all
four of them there.  Finally they turned the showers
off and went to dry themselves and dress again, still
chatting and laughing, quite certain they were in
total privacy.  And I began to feel guilty again for
invading it, this time deliberately.  Would Wendy hate
me if she knew?

I watched Wendy with fascination as she dried herself,
gently rubbing her broad breasts, which hardly
wobbled, and then more vigorously up and down on her
pubic hair and between her legs.  Then she spread out
her towel and sat down on it, still naked.  A few
seconds later Lisa did the same.  As this a good sign?

Tara and Linda began to dress, and at one point Tara
asked them, “Aren’t you going to dress?”

“Not yet,” smiled Wendy.  “Lee and I are just going to
stay here and chat a while.”  Was she looking excited,
as she prepared to talk about me?  I wasn’t sure, but
at the centre of my own world I imagined so.

After what seemed to be an age, the other two finished
dressing and left.  Wendy and Lisa looked at each
other for a moment and laughed gently.  Then, after a
pause, Lisa asked, “So what is it you’re so desperate
to tell me?”

“Well, not desperate,” laughed Wendy.  “It’s just the
most amazing thing.  Remember last night we were
talking about Roy, and you said you had seen his
penis, and I just wished casually-like I could see it
as well?”  Lisa nodded.  “Well, today it actually

“No!” exclaimed Lisa, laughing in disbelief.  “Wendy,
what did you do?”

“Well, I didn’t do anything,” Wendy laughed, putting
her foot up on the bench and wrapping her arm round
her knee, giving me a clearer view than ever of the
length of her vagina.  “He actually started it – I
just couldn’t believe it!  And he wanted somebody who
was going to be a doctor or a nurse!  I wonder if
somebody told him I’m going to take up nursing?”  And
she told Lisa all about how I had persuaded her to
give me an examination.

“And really, it did look so cute,” she finished.  “It
was a bit smaller than I expected, but – I suppose you
could say well shaped and a nice shade of pink. 
Nothing ugly, just what you’d expect from a nice boy
like Roy.”  I presume Wendy didn’t realise that the
male organs shrink when cold.  I wonder if it would be
possible to make a thermometer out of them?  You know,
measure your penis and you can tell what the
temperature is.  But I suppose other factors may
interfere with accurate readings!

“That sounds incredible!” exclaimed Lisa, although she
seemed to believe her friend.  “So is he circumcised,

“No, he isn’t,” answered Wendy.  “And it was strange –
he spoke about that too.  He asked if I thought his
soreness meant that he needed to be circumcised, but
really there couldn’t be any connection.  He said he
was sore underneath – under his testicles.  Really,
they were cute, too – just in a tiny little pink bag,
you know, and not even very easy to see.”  Shrunken by
the water, though she didn’t appreciate that.  I
wished I had been able to find a time when my genitals
were their normal size.

Lisa looked surprised and thoughtful all of a sudden. 
“He said that?” she asked.  “You know, this whole
thing happens the day after we were discussing it, and
he mentioned being circumcised like I did.  I wonder –
I don’t suppose . . .”  She lowered her voice.  “I
don’t suppose he went to the toilet last night at the
time we were showering and stood outside listening to
us, do you?  I mean, it really is pretty

Wendy looked startled.  After a moment she said in a
bemused voice, “I wonder if he did?”  I silently
cursed myself for having brought up the circumcision

Lisa looked around the room suspiciously.  “At least
he wouldn’t have been able to see in,” she concluded. 
“You know, that could have been what he did.  He heard
you wishing you could see his penis, and I’m sure he
has a crush on you – like all the boys – and wanted to
give you a treat.”

Wendy was shaking her head, smiling, though.  “I think
that might be too much of a coincidence too,” she
smiled.  “I don’t know whether anybody would be able
to hear from outside, anyway, and it’s awfully
exposed, isn’t it?  Anybody standing with their ear up
against the wall outside would have the light on them
and could be seen very easily.”

“I suppose so,” shrugged Lisa.  “Well, maybe he’s just
psychic and can read your thoughts.  Come on, Wendy,
try this.  Imagine you and Roy together – and you look
lovingly into each other’s eyes, you wrap your arms
round each other, and you kiss.  Keep wishing for
that, and see if he’ll do that to you tomorrow.”

Wendy gave a little squeal and blushed.  “Oh, Lisa,
you mustn’t tell, because I was so silly, but – we’ve
already done that!” she exclaimed.  “I – don’t think I
was quite myself.  You know, I felt so amazed that a
boy would actually let me see his penis like Roy did. 
I just felt he had shared something very precious with
me and trusted me.  And I – I felt I had to share
something with him too.  Well, I – first of all I bent
over to get this cream from the medicine chest and he
must have seen my panties.”

“That’s nothing, he must have seen them before since
you flash them around so much,” Lisa teased her.

“No, I don’t!” retorted Wendy with a little squeal of
indignation.  “But he was so sweet, you know, he just
said, ‘It’s all right, it doesn’t matter.’  So I –
just gave him a hug and he gave me one.  Then I really
lost my head and gave him a kiss as well, and he gave
me one too – such a lovely kiss.”  She touched the
spot on her cheek.  “Oh, Lisa, he really is such a
gentleman, such a lovely little boy!  He really made
me feel good.”

My heart swelled with pleasure.  Lisa laughed.  “Now
*you* really have a crush on *him*!” she declared.

“Well, I – do wish . . .” began Wendy, and then
stopped.  I was left forever wondering what she

“You must just hope now he won’t go round telling
everybody about it all,” Lisa put in seriously.

“Oh, I’m sure he won’t, he promised me,” returned
Wendy.  “I – I do think I can trust him.  I was so
scared after I’d done it, because I’d just got carried
away.  But he promised it would be a secret.  I’m sure
he wouldn’t give me away.”

“Is he going to let you examine him again tomorrow?”
Lisa asked.

“I don’t know . . .” Wendy replied, looking a little
worried.  “I suppose it depends on how the soreness
is.  I really couldn’t see any swelling or anything
under there.”

“Probably his penis does all the swelling when he
thinks of you,” laughed Lisa.

“Oh, Lisa, don’t make it – sound dirty,” Wendy
protested.  “No, it’s just – well, I really think he’s
sweet and he seems to like me as well.  It’s something
– quite special, I suppose, but there’s no sex in it. 
I bet he’s never even thought of – well, seeing me
naked or anything.”  How little she knew me!

“I bet he’d spy as soon as anybody if he got the
chance,” said Lisa.  “So how does his penis compare to
Mickey’s and Ernst’s, and all your other boyfriends?”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Wendy scolded her, laughing
again, but now the conversation left me and went on to
other children in the camp.

They chatted for another ten minutes or so before
getting dressed again and leaving me alone in my
cubicle, hugging my knees tightly and thrilled to the
core.  I had made Wendy happy.  She trusted me and I
would never give her away.  Tired out, I went to bed
happy that night.

(To be concluded)


Tired though I was, I did not sleep well that night,
thanks to Mickey.

He decided he wanted to go to the toilet at about
three o’clock in the morning.  Getting out of his bed,
he managed to tread on most of us on his way out.  I
hope that part was just clumsiness rather than
deliberate nastiness.  But I wouldn’t bet on it.

I rolled over and tried to get to sleep again, which
wasn’t easy when a couple of others were busy telling
each other what an idiot the local film star was for
waking us up, and themselves waking others up in the
process.  Lloyd woke, and was just quietening us all
down again when we heard a lot of distant screaming.

The screams went on for at least ten seconds, and then
became howls.  Everyone in the tent was now awake. 
Lloyd told us to stay in bed, and he got up and
hurried outside to investigate.  Some of the others
crowded to the tent flap and looked outside, curious
and chattering to each other.  I groaned and stayed in
bed, but I knew I wouldn’t be getting much more sleep.

Later on we found out, as one or two of us had
guessed, that it was Mickey.  It seems that he was in
the process of relieving himself into the latrine when
he slipped and fell in, feet first, and ended up
sprawling on his bottom in the sewage below.  His
response was to scream and howl the place down.

The usual frothing pool of urine at the bottom of the
pit must have dried up somewhat during the night, but
it was still very muddy, at least.  Kevin had to take
him to the showers and wash him off at that time of
night.  We were just trying to get to sleep again when
Mickey returned, clean but still sobbing.

“I was pushed!” he insisted from the start.  “Somebody
pushed me!”  But nobody believed him, and an
investigation brought no knowledge from any of the
tents of anybody else outside at that time of night.

It became a camp joke.  People would walk past the
glowering Mickey for the rest of camp sniggering in a
squeaky voice to mimic his, “Somebody pushed me!  I’m
all covered in wee!”  Some of the girls who had
worshipped him at the start of camp were now giggling
and saying, “His thing is so small he couldn’t find it
in the dark, and he fell in looking for it!”

Further ridicule about the alleged small size of his
penis drove Mickey too far.  During free time that
afternoon, a group of several girls was taunting him
about it.  With no leaders in view, he lost his temper
and pulled out his penis to show them that it was,
after all, of a presentable size.  But the girls told
their tent leader, who was Linda in this case, and she
reported it to Kevin, who had another private
interview with the culprit.  Ernst went round telling
everybody with heavy-handed humour that the punishment
for Mickey would be confiscation.

It was the final humiliation for Mickey.  Even his two
faithful followers decided he was a liability they
could no longer afford, and dumped him.  For the rest
of the camp he slunk around by himself, an outcast. 
Tent leaders soon stepped in and told those who still
kept tormenting him to leave him alone, but it was too

Before the end of camp I was feeling very sorry for
him.  So was Wendy, and she took it on herself to
befriend him and build him up a bit again.  I felt a
bit jealous, but realised that she was only doing it
through soft-heartedness rather than any sort of
affection for him.  I kept in regular contact with her
and was sure I was the one she really loved, in my
ten-year-old view of the world.

She did ask me that next morning how my strain was. 
Much as I would have loved another session with her, I
realised that it might be courting trouble, so I
beamed and told her, “It’s much better, thanks.  That
cream seems to be working fine.”  I did offer to show
her, but she smilingly declined.

After our free time that morning, we went to the field
for games as usual.  I noticed Ernst was looking very
sour, so I asked him what the problem was.

“Girls!  Traitors!” he snorted.  “Maxi tried to trick

I had been so involved with my own affairs I had
completely forgotten about his intentions with Maxi. 
I suddenly felt alarmed, but then realised that his
mood would have been different if he had actually
burst Maxi, as I thought likely.  I asked for further

“Said yesterday she wanted sex,” he snorted, making
sure no one could overhear us.  “But that was a lie. 
She just wanted to play with my – my cock, that’s all!
 She made it all stiff, and she laughed and pretended
we were going to do it.  But we never, and when I
tried she said she’d scream.  Said she’d do it when
she was ready, and kept playing with me.  But then she
said the whistle would go and we had no time, and she
left me!  I asked her about next time and she just
said she’d think about it!  I don’t believe it.  I’ll
never go with her again.”

I hadn’t too much time for sympathy, but I can’t say I
was surprised.  I had been surprised to start with
that Maxi had suggested it, knowing the relative size
of the objects in question – it would have been like
trying to mate an Irish wolfhound with a toy poodle. 
Knowing Maxi as I did, I might well have suspected
trickery if I hadn’t been so preoccupied.  Now Ernst
had had his ambition of losing his virginity crushed,
and he would have to look for somebody better suited
to him – in every way.

Otherwise the next day was pretty uneventful, partly
because I was very tired.  Tessa and I now found it
much easier to talk together again now more time had
elapsed since our close encounter of a muddy and
watery kind with each other, and we developed our
friendship.  Several times as we were sitting or
chatting together I noticed Wendy or Lisa looking at
us with the condescending smile on their faces that
says, “How sweet.”

Kirsty in the meantime was in and out of my life, but
had also found another boy she liked.  I don’t know
whether she managed to get him into the cave as she
had done with me, not to mention Ernst and Mickey, or
whether she even tried, but I wasn’t aware of their
getting up to anything suspicious.  Perhaps the
knowledge that Lisa was keeping an eye on her kept her
under some restraint.

It was the day after that that our next big adventure
took place.  We had another outing planned, this time
to a different farm quite some distance away, and we
were to be travelling on trucks of hay.

That night we hit the edge of another storm.  The
thunder and lightning were stayed quite distant, but
we had a quick downpour of rain, which made us all
grumble.  The next morning it was still unusually
misty early on, but began to clear up after breakfast.
 With the outing coming up, Kevin told us all to keep
away from the mud.

During the free time in the morning, before the hay
carts arrived, Tessa and I sneaked off together.  This
was nothing but a desire to be alone together, so I
must disappoint readers by telling them that we just
wandered a little way out of camp, over to the
boundary, where we could be away from everybody else
and just sit quietly together under a tree and talk. 
It was a lovely quiet time where we could develop our

As we talked, or enjoyed moments of silence since
Tessa was not in Kirsty’s class as a chatterbox, side
by side without quite touching, we could hear the
noise of the campers in the distance, but otherwise a
rare silence, with the occasional draught of wind or
bird noises.  Finally we heard the whistle in the
distance, summoning us all for the outing.

We sat for another minute or two, reluctant to move. 
Then Tessa looked at me with her lovely brown eyes and
quietly planted a kiss on my cheek.  I looked
furtively around, saw nobody, and kissed her in
return.  I wrapped my arms round her and we hugged
quickly and warmly.  Then we wandered innocently back
into camp, pretending we had not been engaged in such
subversive activities and had merely met up by

On the way back, we saw Kirsty flapping towards us,
with Susan in tow.  “Roy, Roy, where have you been?”
she squealed.  “We’ve been looking for you!”  This was
sudden interest on Kirsty’s part after there had been
little between us the previous day, but it was not
unusual for her.

“Why were you looking for me?” I asked, avoiding the
question of where we had been.

“We were just talking about Mickey and thought you
could tell us more,” Kirsty replied, grabbing me by
the arm.  “Come.”  She started to lead me up the hill
and away from the meeting place.

There were two issues I wanted to speak to her about. 
Firstly, I thought there had been a bit too much
curiosity about Mickey, and since I still felt guilty
about encouraging her to tell the other girls his
penis was a size one instead of a size six, I didn’t
want to tell any more tales about him.  Secondly, I
wanted to ask why she was leading us away from the
meeting place when we were about to go on an outing.

In retrospect, I made the wrong choice of the two
issues to take up with her first.  In further
retrospect, the way things worked out, I’m glad I did.
 “Look, why do you keep wanting to know things about
Mickey?” I remonstrated with her as she guided me off
course.  “I’m fed up with Mickey and I don’t want to
talk about him any more.”

“But you know more than we do because you’re in the
same tent,” Kirsty insisted.  “You were there when he
fell into the – the hole.  What did he look like?  Was
he all covered in – in – you know?”  She giggled with
her hands, as usual, to her mouth.

“I didn’t see him until next morning, when he was
clean,” I told her.  “They say Kevin washed him off in
the showers and brought him back.  But I didn’t even
see him come back into our tent because I was turned
over trying to sleep.  But there was a still a bit of
a smell in the morning.”

I was starting to ask why we were going in this
direction when Kirsty started up again.  “What did he
say when he came back?” she wanted to know.  “Was he
crying?  Did he say anything else besides, ‘Somebody
pushed me’?”

“I wasn’t listening,” I told her.  “Look, we’re
supposed to be going to the meeting place.  Why . . .”

She butted in with slightly rephrased questions,
trying to wheedle the fascinating information out of
me.  In the end, the awkward conversation was broken
by Tessa, who tugged Kirsty hard by the sleeve and
said, “We’re supposed to be going down to the hay
carts.  Why are you taking us up here?”

“I need a poo before we go,” Kirsty announced, and
then suddenly giggled as she remembered too late that
she was in mixed company.  “Don’t you want a wee-wee
as well?  There’s plenty of time, they always tell
everybody to go for a wee anyway.  Come on, let’s go,
and while we’re walking, Roy, you can tell me more
about Mickey.”

“I’ve nothing more to tell about Mickey,” I insisted. 
We were most of the way to the toilets by now and I
didn’t really need to go, but I might as well.  Tessa
was saying she needed to go too.

With Kirsty still pestering me for information, I took
the opportunity to nip into the boys’ side.  As I
stood fiddling with my shorts at the urinal, Kirsty
stuck her head round the door with her usual giggles. 
“Ooh, I wondered what a boys’ toilet looked like,” she
said, no doubt having checked there were no other boys
in sight.  “It’s just like ours, except you have that
funny drain thing there.  What’s that for – do you wee
into it?”

I glared at her and was trying to think of some sharp
retort when somebody, probably Susan, grabbed her arm
and helped to pull her outside.  Kirsty could be very
sweet and good fun at times, and a real pest at
others.  So far that morning the pesky side was in

I emptied my bladder of what little was there, and
then waited outside for the girls – or more
specifically for Tessa.  I wouldn’t have bothered if
she hadn’t been in there.  I could hear the girls
talking, especially Kirsty’s louder voice, and
gradually got the impression from the tones of voices
that there was some problem inside the girls’ toilets.
 I couldn’t begin to guess what it was, but hoped
Tessa would hurry up and come out before Kirsty did so
we could get moving again.

Finally Tessa did appear at the door, calling to me. 
“Roy, Cherie’s stuck in the toilet,” she told me
seriously.  “The bolt seems to have jammed and she
can’t get out.”

I wasn’t quite sure who Cherie was.  I knew all the
girls by sight, but there were one or two
insignificant ones whose names I hadn’t learned yet
and hadn’t come across in games or any other activity.

Kirsty appeared next to Tessa.  “Roy, go and tell Miss
Tate a girl is stuck in the toilets,” she ordered me,
flapping about a bit.  “Quick, before we get left

“Roy may be able to help,” put in Tessa.

Left to myself, I would have gone to get help.  But
here we had Tessa’s suggestion countering Kirsty’s
order, so I took Tessa’s side.  If Tessa thought I
could help, I wanted to show off my capabilities to
her.  “Yes, maybe I can do something,” I told her,
walking towards the entrance that I knew so well.

“No, boys can’t come into the girls’ toilets,”
sniggered Kirsty.

“You went into the boys’ toilets,” I reminded her,
pushing past her as I went in.

“That was – just to see what it was like,” Kirsty
excused herself.

Susan was standing at the far side, near the cubicles
where Tessa and I had hidden.  “She’s in here,” she
told me, indicating rather obviously the one closed
cubicle door there.

“Hello, who’s in there?” I called out as I went and
stood by the door.

There was a moment’s silence and then a timid little
voice answered from within, “It’s me – Cherie.”  There
was a sniff.  “The door’s stuck and I – I can’t get

“I’ll go in and fix it,” I assured them all.  Then I
remembered the gentlemanly ways I was trying to hard
to cultivate with girls at that time, and asked,
“Cherie, shall I come in and fix it for you?”

There was another pause, and then a whispered, “Yes,”
from within.  I looked around but, just as before when
we wanted to reach the soap, there was nothing to
stand on.  “Look, I’ll jump up and grab the top of the
door,” I told the other girls.  “Then you’ll need to
push my legs so I can get up and over the top.”

They agreed, so I jumped and grabbed the top of the
door with my hands, trying to pull myself up like a
chin-up.  I felt several pairs of hands grab my legs
and push, so it was quite easy for me to scramble
over.  “We saw your underpants,” came Kirsty’s
triumphant voice from below.

I glared down at her, losing patience.  “Look, you
show your panties all the time,” I exaggerated, “but I
don’t tell you because it doesn’t matter!”

Then I looked down inside the cubicle.  At the far
side was the girl I had suspected was Cherie.  She was
quite a small girl, with rather close-cropped fair
hair and big green eyes.  She was rather pretty,
really, except that her two front teeth were a little
large for her and her bottom lip protruded slightly. 
She was a very quiet girl, shy, usually to be found
reading books or drawing pictures.  Her dress was in
dark green and white.

For a shy girl like her, this must have been a very
embarrassing experience, and she certainly looked very
nervous at the sight of a strange boy climbing over
the top of the toilet door to reach her.  She wasn’t
crying, but she looked most unhappy and shrank up
against the far side of the wall.

The sight of her vulnerability brought out the best in
me, as usual.  “Hello, Cherie, are you all right?” I
asked her as I scrambled over and dropped rather
clumsily on to the cubicle floor.

Her lip trembled, but she nodded.  “It’s stuck,” she
whispered, pointing at the door.

I was confident that I could fix it, but I couldn’t. 
Somehow the catch, unnecessarily complicated, had
jammed and nothing I could do would make it budge a
millimetre.  The holder was screwed in tightly and
without a screwdriver there was nothing I could do
about that.  I tried pulling on the handle, heaving so
fiercely that Cherie was scared it would break off and
I would go flying on top of her, but that too was very
well screwed in.  I tried again on the bolt, but had
no luck.

“Come on, Roy, we’ll be late for the outing,” urged
Kirsty from the far side of the door.

“Everything’s screwed in too tightly and it needs a
screwdriver,” I told her.

“Pity my dad isn’t here because that’s his favourite
drink,” I heard Susan snigger.

“Can you get her out over the top?” Tessa asked. 
“Maybe you can lift her up like you did with me.”

“When did Roy lift you up?” came Kirsty’s inquisitive
voice.  Tessa had spoken without thinking about our
illegal nightly activity.

“On the rocks,” I called back hastily.  “I think I’ll
have to.  If I get her on top, you must help her down
the other side.”  I turned to Cherie, who was looking
very apprehensive.  “I’ll help you over the wall,” I
told her.

“I – I can’t do that,” protested Cherie, looking

“Shall I fetch help?” Tessa asked.

I should have told her to run and tell Kevin, because
he was big and strong enough to lift a little girl
like Cherie over the wall easily, even if he couldn’t
open the door.  But as always I wanted to play the
hero myself.  “No, I can do it,” I told her.  I turned
to Cherie and smiled at her as comfortingly as I
could.  “Listen, don’t worry, I’ll look after you,” I
told her.

Cherie looked slightly comforted, but I think it was
just my caring tone of voice rather than the
situation.  At least we had a little help here from
the props.  I put down the toilet lid and turned round
to face the door.  “Stand on the toilet and climb on
my shoulders,” I told her.

Looking back, I saw her put her leg up, showing her
white cotton panties for a moment, and then stand on
the lid, nervously and with one hand on the wall.  I
moved back until I was right next to her.  “Now climb
on,” I told her.

She held on to my head tightly and put a leg round my
side.  I saw her knee under my armpit and said, “No,
that won’t get you high enough.  You must stand on my
shoulder.  I’ll hold your legs.”

“I can’t,” she whimpered.  “I’ll fall.”

“No, you won’t, because I’ll hold you,” I said again,
more confidently than I felt.

“I can’t do it,” she insisted anxiously.

To cut a long story short, I tried having her sit on
my shoulders, which was the best she could manage.  I
had to crouch while she got on and I had an
embarrassing struggle standing up with her on top of
me, swaying as I tried to push myself up with the help
of the toilet seat.  This got her very agitated and
calling out urgently, “Please, put me down, I’ll

“Come on, Roy, we’ll miss the outing!” Kirsty urged

“No, we won’t, because they’ll count everybody and
know we’re missing,” I told them.  “I’ve nearly done
it.”  I hadn’t, actually, but wasn’t prepared to admit

The way I eventually succeeded was to have Cherie
stand on the toilet seat and then help her to step up
and stand on top of the cistern.  There was a big pipe
leading down from the roof and she hung on to it
tightly.  Then I climbed up on to the toilet seat
myself.  Her waist was about level with my shoulders
and I told her to climb on to them.  I held her and
she held the pipe as she climbed, but in this position
she could now reach the top of the wall if the
neighbouring cubicle with the hand that was not
clutching the pipe.

I gradually persuaded her to hold on to the top of the
wall with both hands.  I held her legs with one hand
and the pipe with the other and, with nervous panting
of breath and pushing from me, she finally managed to
sit on top of the wall, with a horizontal pipe there
to hold on to.  Her panties must have been very
visible during these manoeuvres, but I was so involved
in the task and desperate to be the hero that I didn’t
even notice!

She looked very nervous as I let go of her and she
held more tightly to the pipes.  I leapt from the
toilet lid on to the wall next to her, and then down
the far side.  I put the toilet lid in position there,
and stood on it so I could reach up to her.  The door
was open and the other girls were of course crowding
in the doorway to see what was happening.

I held the pipe with one hand and reached out to
Cherie with the other.  “Come on, put your arms round
my neck and I’ll catch you,” I told her, standing in
the way of Kirsty, who was fussing to come in and

Having come so far, Cherie had no alternative but to
obey.  Nervously she swung one leg over the wall, and
then reached down with one arm to put round my neck. 
Using my free arm, I wrapped it round her back and
pulled her gently.  She gave a frightened gasp and
slithered into my arms, sending me staggering.  But I
kept my grip on the pipe and my arm tightly round
Cherie.  We were squeezed together and I felt her warm
cheek against my neck for a moment as she clung there,
before she hastily moved it.

“That’s it, don’t worry, I’ve got you now,” I
whispered to her, loving her vulnerability and the
closeness to her.  I slackened my grip and she slipped
slowly on to the toilet lid next to me.  But I didn’t
let go until she had stepped safely down to the

The other girls had laughed and squealed as Cherie had
fallen into my arms and we clung to each other, and
now they laughed and cheered as she reached the ground
safely.  As girls often do, they gathered round and
gave her a hug.  She was still trembling.

“Now we must get down to the carts,” asserted Kirsty.

“Wait, I’ve hurt my leg on the wall,” whispered
Cherie.  This quickly elicited more sympathy from the
other girls, although there were only a couple of
small scrapes, and we lost more time while they
gathered round and washed and comforted.

Finally we left the toilets and walked quickly down to
the meeting place, not wanting to get into trouble but
with a good explanation.  About halfway down we began
to sense something was wrong.  It was too quiet.

We began to look at each other in shock.  “They must
have gone!” exclaimed Kirsty.  “Roy, you told us
they’d count us all and wait for us, but they’ve gone
without us!”

We broke into a run, but sure enough the campsite was
deserted.  I led the way as we ran along the track to
the corner and looked down the road.  Far in the
distance we could see two of the carts trundling
onwards, but they were too far to make out the figures
who must have been in the back, on the hay.  But we
ran and shouted and waved our arms in the hope that
they would see us and return.

Kirsty was in tears, and Susan also was drizzling
quietly.  “Roy, you said they’d count us!” wailed
Kirsty.  “But they’ve gone and left us all behind, and
they haven’t even noticed!”

I was bewildered, as I had on a similar occasion at
school sneaked off with Saskia on an outing, and
hurried back to find the teachers had counted, taken
names, found us missing and were just about to start
looking for us.  I could not understand how the
leaders at this camp had been so careless as to leave
us behind.  Hadn’t they counted?

As I discovered later, it was mostly due to a couple
of simple misunderstandings.  The carts had arrived
early, which is always unusual in our Mediterranean
country with its loose values of time.  Apparently the
driver of the first cart, when loaded with children,
set off straight away, and everybody thought he was
just turning the cart round.  Instead he disappeared
off down the road and was out of earshot before
anybody noticed, so nobody knew how many were on that
cart or who they were.  Trevor and Linda were on that
cart, but they did not have the sense to tell the
driver to stop and wait.

Miss Tate tried to sort things out then by sending the
remaining leaders to check all over and make sure
nobody was left behind.  I think it was Lloyd who was
posted to check the toilets, but he either didn’t, or
didn’t do so properly.  It seemed everyone was
accounted for, and Miss Tate did not want to get too
far behind the first cart, so they set off in the
belief that we were all there.  If anybody wondered
where we were, they no doubt expected us to be on
another cart.

I stood there feeling helpless, alone except for the
girls.  Alone except for the girls?  Well, maybe that
wasn’t so bad after all!  Was this an opportunity?

Kirsty was crying freely and Susan quietly.  “We’re
stuck here by ourselves all day and we’ve missed the
outing!” snivelled Kirsty.  Cherie looked worried and
guilty, no doubt feeling that it was all her fault.

But Tessa seemed to agree with me.  She looked at me
with an excited smile on her face.  “Roy, we can play
in the mud now!  Properly!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I suppose we can,” I grinned, suddenly realising
that this was indeed an opportunity I could exploit.

“Play in the mud?” queried Susan, looking at Tessa,
rather shocked.

“Yes, like the boys did the other day!” grinned Tessa
brightly.  “While we had to go on our walk, they were
all having fun and they wouldn’t let the girls join
in.  But we can do it now, can’t we, Roy?  We’ve got
the whole camp to ourselves!”

“I wanted to ride on the hay,” sniffed Kirsty.

“They may come back!” protested Susan.  “Roy, they may
find we’re missing and come back to pick us up.”

I thought about that.  “Miss Tate said it takes well
over an hour to get there,” I recalled.  “So even if
they miss us straight away when they get there, and
even if somebody comes back in a car to look for us,
that will be two hours.  We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Yippee!” exclaimed Tessa, bouncing up excitedly. 
“Come on, Roy, let’s go in the mud!”  She grabbed my
arm and started pulling me.

“I want to go on the outing,” moaned Kirsty.  “I’m
frightened here by myself.”

“You’re not by yourself, I’m looking after you,” I
told her proudly.  “We’ll be fine, I promise.  Look,
all the stuff is in our tents and they haven’t even
left anybody to guard it.  So we’re quite safe here.”

“I trust you, I know you’ll look after us,” smiled
Tessa, leading me firmly back towards camp, beyond
which was the stream and the mud.

The other girls tagged behind us, looking distraught. 
Cherie moved up beside me for a moment as we passed
the meeting place, and whispered, “I’m sorry, it was
all my fault.”  She looked at me miserably out of the
corner of her big green eyes.

She was almost my age, but I felt very much like a big
brother and protector.  I reached an arm round her
back and said, “No, it wasn’t your fault, it was just
an accident that could have happened to anybody.”  She
didn’t reply or look at me, but just touched my hand
with her fingers for a moment.

“Tessa, what are you going to *wear* in the mud?”
asked Kirsty practically, recovering somewhat and
catching us up.  “You’ll get into trouble if you get
your clothes muddy.”

“I’m not going to get them muddy, I’ll take them off,
of course,” answered Tessa, as if it were a stupid

“You’re not – going to go *naked*, are you?” asked
Kirsty in horror.

“Of course, it doesn’t matter!” retorted Tessa. 
“Nobody will see us.”

“But Roy’s here, and he’ll see you!” protested Kirsty,
as if what was done outdoors by the stream was a much
worse crime than what was done indoors in the cave.

“I don’t mind Roy seeing me,” shrugged Tessa.  “He’s
my friend and I trust him.”

“Roy, are you – going in the mud as well?” asked

“You bet – if it’s good for playing in,” I answered. 
“The sun isn’t hot yet, so it should still be muddy.”

On the way Kirsty, again being practical and
recovering remarkably from her upset, nipped over to
the store tent and brought with her a five-litre
bottle of drinking water.  We reached the stream and
clambered over the rocks to reach the mud.  Tessa gave
a squeal of delight.  There were small pools of water
all over the place, and with a little mixing it would
obviously be very high quality mud indeed.
Cherie looked mildly shocked.  “Are they going to play
in *that*?” she asked Susan, who nodded.

Tessa scrambled over to the rocks and began throwing
off her clothes.  “Come on, Roy!” she encouraged me. 
I had just reached her by the time she pulled off her
panties and stepped into the mud, naked.  It was
slippery and she tried to do it too quickly.  With a
squeal and a laugh, she slipped backwards and sat down
with a splat in the mud.  There were more squeals from
the female audience, of mingled shock and amusement.

I had my clothes off quickly and was joining her as
she slipped and slithered her way across to what
looked like the muddiest patch of all.  “Roy, how
could you?!” I heard Kirsty exclaim, but I could tell
she was not as shocked as she pretended to be.

“This is great!” I laughed, glancing at the girls.  I
think Kirsty was actually trying not to smile, while
Susan was inscrutable with her fingers stuffed firmly
to her mouth.  Cherie was standing with her mouth
open, looking astonished to see me naked in the
presence of girls.

It was a good thing Ernst wasn’t with me.  No doubt he
also thought I was on one of the other carts.  I have
always thought that my normal, unspectacular penis is
the best sort for inducting tender young girls into
the brave new world of nudity.  It is less likely to
frighten them than most other male genitalia, but
Ernst’s was a totally different story, likely to give
a delicate girl nightmares for years afterwards.

As I was still looking at them, a wet piece of clay
flew past my chest.  Before I could turn, another
caught me on the outside part of my bottom.  “Come on,
Roy, mud-fight!” shouted Tessa.  She was jumping up
and down and spraying clayballs, like snowballs,
vaguely in my direction.

She was not the most accurate of throwers, so I scored
more hits than we did as we flung clay at each other,
laughing.  I tried to make sure I didn’t throw too
hard, as I knew even tomboys can be surprisingly
delicate at times, but I aimed low and kept
splattering my ammunition on her legs.  I developed
the cunning tactic of throwing just as she was in the
act of throwing, and then laughed at her as it made
her throw even more off target.

Getting frustrated, she suddenly picked up a large
handful of clay and came running at me.  Taken by
surprise, I backed away, but slipped and fell on my
bottom.  I’m not sure how Tessa managed to reach me
without falling herself, but in a moment she was on
top of me, laughing and slapping her large dollop of
mud joyfully onto my shoulder and smearing it all over

To the accompaniment of squeals and laughter from our
spectators, I grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her
down on top of me.  We rolled over, laughing, and
squelched in the mud.  Tessa was on her back now,
knees up and a relatively clean little vagina easily
visible as he kicked out playfully at me.  I was on
top of her, scooping up mud and slapping it all over
her tummy, but keeping it off her face and genitals.

She grabbed my arm and held it tightly.  As I tried to
wriggle free, I felt a large slap on mud on my back,
accompanied by more female laughter.  Looking up, I
saw Kirsty standing there, wearing only her
flesh-coloured, flower-embroidered panties.  She was
just out of my reach, laughing at me as she picked up
another handful of mud to slop on to me.

I grabbed some mud and stood up quickly, while she
dropped her mud and backed away.  “No, Roy, no!” she
laughed.  “You’ll get my panties muddy!”

“If you come in wearing them, that’s your problem!” I
returned, slinging mud at her legs and trying to keep
away from her panties.

As I threw it at her shins, though, a few small pieces
flew up and landed on her panties.  “No, Roy, you’re
making them muddy!” she squealed in horror, turning
her back and trying to run to safety.  But she slipped
and fell on her side, giving a wail of despair as one
side of her panties contacted the mud.

I stopped throwing, and Tessa seemed to have
surrendered, as she scrambled out of the mud and stood
with the other girls by the side, anxiously inspecting
the damage and moaning at me.

“It wasn’t my fault,” I told her.  “You mustn’t come
into the mud if you don’t want to get muddy.”

“You should have taken them off,” giggled Susan.

“Well, maybe I will,” retorted Kirsty rather
surprisingly.  “It looks like fun – but I don’t want
to fight.”

“You don’t have to fight, you can just play,” I told
her.  “But if you start putting mud on people, they’re
going to put it on you.”

“That was just to help Tessa,” she excused herself. 
“But I just want to – try playing in it.  Come on,
Susan, let’s try it.”

“You go first,” sniggered Susan, as courageous as

I looked at Cherie.  She immediately looked away from
me – after all, decent girls are not supposed to look
at naked boys.  Besides, I had discovered that I was
rather like Ernst had been now, with muddy legs, muddy
stomach and genitals still relatively untouched by
mud.  Tessa, now coming towards me with a happy grin
on her face, was similar, with a large white patch
around her vagina.

In the meantime Kirsty was going over to the stream. 
She stood carefully in the running water to wash her
legs, and then got out.  With her legs clean, she
began to remove her panties, not very easy over her
wet skin, and leaving a trail of mud behind down her
thigh.  She bent down to wash her panties carefully in
the water, showing under her bottom that long slit
like a zip fastener as her vagina appeared to join
with the crack in her bottom.  Cherie was looking very
concerned, and indeed astonished.

Kirsty turned round, facing me naked, and looking a
strange sight with her white chest and the large pink
areolas of her little sprouting breasts.  She laid her
panties on a rock in the sun to dry, and then said,
“Come on now, Susan, let’s play.”

“Roy, let’s see if we can build a castle in this,”
Tessa called me, and I turned away without looking to
see if Susan was responding.  I knew from experience
that the less interest I showed, the more likely girls
were to take the plunge.

I crouched down by Tessa and helped her scoop clay
together and shape it into castle forms, which wasn’t
really possible as it was still a bit too damp to keep
its shape.  I had positioned myself side-on to the
other girls and could see activity out of the corner
of my eye, but couldn’t make out what it was.  I
exercised self-control and restrained my curiosity,
conscious of my image as a boy who wouldn’t spy on the
girls.  Once they truly accepted that image, I had
already found, most girls couldn’t care less what I
see of their bodies.

“It’s not working,” complained Tessa.  “It’s too wet
here.  Let’s go somewhere drier.”

“You can come over here if you like,” Kirsty invited
us.  “I’m digging a hole with Susan, and we’re making
a hill from what we take out.”

Tessa and I went over to have a look.  Both girls were
now naked, squatting and digging over at the side
where the clay was drier.  Susan glanced up at me,
forcing an embarrassed smile, bent low over the hole
so I could only see her bare back, and I kept my eyes
well away from her.  Cherie was standing nearby,
looking as if she wished she were a million kilometres

“Let’s try,” I agreed, squatting down beside the hole
and digging into the thick clay with my hands.  Tessa
squatted next to me, our knees up as we scrabbled
between them.  When she was in that position I could
just see a sliver of her clitoris between the lips of
her vagina, while my penis and testicles were hanging
down in full view.  Kirsty knelt and dug, with her
vagina hidden between her legs until she straightened
herself up, a movement which just revealed the top of
her vagina and her tiny patch of auburn pubic hair.

Susan soon gave up, moving back and sitting on the
firm raised ground at the side.  “Come on, Susan,
help,” Kirsty urged her, and I glanced up as Susan
told her friend there were too many stones.  Susan was
now sitting quite comfortably with her legs apart, her
plump vagina lips clearly visible with her deep black
slit in between, curving round underneath to meet
apparently with the crack of her bottom.

Soon it was too stony for us all to dig, but Tessa
decided she could make clay animals.  Except for
Cherie, we all scooped up clay and began to make
little models.  Cherie sat miserably on a rock in the
shade nearby, and the others ignored her.  I looked up
and smiled at her once, but she blushed and looked
away, no doubt embarrassed by my nakedness.  From
where I was squatting, she would have a full view of
my genitals.

“Come on, Cherie, join in,” urged Kirsty rather
bossily.  I saw Cherie shrivel up a little inside and
shake her head.  “Don’t be shy, it’s all fun, it
doesn’t matter,” Kirsty urged her again.

“She doesn’t have to,” I put in, trying to take the
pressure off Cherie.  I had started learning how to be
cunning.  “Come on, Kirsty, you can’t force her.” 
Kirsty shrugged and went back to her model, as she
tried to make a ballerina out of clay that was much
too coarse.  My elephant was much more appropriate for
the material we were using.

I felt thirsty, so I stood up after a while and went
over to take a drink from the bottle of water that
Kirsty had brought with us.  It was in the shade
nearby, not far from Cherie, and I noticed she
wouldn’t even look at me as I had my drink.  I
wondered if I should talk to her, but thought it
better to wait.  I was aware, though, that we daren’t
risk spending too much time in the clay, in case
somebody came back to look for us.

As I finished my drink, though, I heard Cherie say, “I
wish I could play as well.”  With the wisdom of my
additional years now, I realise that she was really
looking for somebody to talk her into doing what she
really wanted to do.

I looked at her, but she still had her head turned
away from me.  None of the other girls were looking at
her, so I guessed she had been talking to me.  So I
answered encouragingly, “Well, you can, come and join

She shook her head shyly, confirming that she had been
addressing me, even though she still avoided looking
at me.  “I – I’ve never played – without clothes
before,” she murmured.  “I’m too shy.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I told her.  “But I know how
you feel.  Two years ago I went to a naturist place
for the first time, and I felt so shy and scared when
I had to take my clothes off.  But I soon got used to
it, and now I just love it.  I feel so free, and – and
it’s just great to be with other people when we all
trust each other.  But I know people feel very shy
before they try it.”

Cherie gave a sort of shiver and didn’t reply.  I
wondered what else to say, but wisely decided to keep
my mouth shut and let the thoughts settle in. 
Reluctantly I went back to join the others in the

“Let’s bury Tessa,” I suggested, and the others

“All right!” laughed Tessa brightly, and she lay down
on her back.  We picked up piles of clay and began to
plaster it all over her.  Her sweet little vagina was
fully exposed now, small and neat, gently rounded lips
peeping out from between her legs and a hint of what
had probably been what I call a buttonhole vagina, a
slight rounding of the hole at the top usually seen in
younger girls.

Thrilled with love at this intimate view of my
favourite girl, I could hardly tear my eyes away from
it as I covered her legs with clay.  Fortunately
nobody was watching me as the others were plastering
her upper body with clay.  Finally Kirsty slapped clay
over her loins and her vagina, almost the last part of
her body to be covered, disappeared.

Kirsty suddenly looked up at me and asked, “Roy, do
you think – it’s all right to put clay on there?  It
won’t get – inside?”

My knowledge of the specific characteristics of female
genitalia was very weak in those days, but some quick
thinking gave me a logical answer.  “I – should think
it’s all right,” I said.  “I mean – when you have a
bath, your bathwater doesn’t go inside, does it?”

“No,” giggled Kirsty, and that seemed to settle the
matter.  She and Susan firmly patted down the clay
that now covered all of Tessa except for her head, and
then turned to me.  “Now it’s your turn,” she said. 
“You can lie down next to Tessa because I know you
like her.”  She sniggered.

“All right, but there’ll only be two of you to do it
now,” I agreed, with a bit of cunning.  “Cherie, can
you give Kirsty and Susan some help in covering me up,

“Yes, Cherie, please come and help,” put in Susan
kindly, taking her cue from me.

Kirsty also put in some encouragement, and added with
a silly giggle, “You’ll get a close-up of Roy’s thing,

I saw Cherie hesitate, nervous and undecided.  So I
said, “Cherie, you can do my legs, Kirsty can do my
middle and Susan can do my top.”  I promptly lay down
on my back next to Tessa, deliberately not watching

“Quickly, Cherie, it’s fun,” urged Kirsty, kneeling
down and scooping up some clay to slap on my tummy.

There came a sound from Cherie that was probably a
timid, “All right,” and from the corner of my eye I
saw movement from her.  She was probably unbuttoning
her dress.  My heart thumped so fast I was afraid
Kirsty would notice, but she just slapped some mud on
my belly button and dug for some more.

I tried to look unconcerned as Cherie slipped her
dress off and then her panties, quite quickly now she
had decided to take the plunge.  “That’s better!”
proclaimed Kirsty bossily as Cherie stepped cautiously
off the path and on to the mud, heading for my feet.

She shot me a nervous glance, but I moved my eyes away
quickly in case I should put her off.  I didn’t look
in her direction until she squatted by my feet to dig
up some mud, with a nervous giggle.  At first I could
only see what was almost a side view, as her bent legs
hid the secret between them from my greedy eyes.  I
did see that her chest was as flat as Tessa’s, with
the tiniest of areolas and nipples, hardly visible.

Then she moved to go round the other side, where there
were greater quantities of the damp clay, and as she
stepped around my feet I caught a glimpse of her
delicate little vagina, smooth and flat.  

The girls worked away, with Susan the closest to my
head.  I would have preferred to have had Cherie up
there, but thought the proximity to my eyes might have
put her off.  Susan now seemed quite unashamed, and I
made the interesting discovery that she did in fact
have a few tufts of pubic hair, a very light brown,
and visible only from close up.

Within a few minutes I, like Tessa, was covered in
black clay from neck to foot.  Well – not quite.  It
had been a mistake to entrust my middle section to
Kirsty.  There was a tiny bit of me still not covered,
as Kirsty had left my penis uncovered.

The girls all stopped decorating me.  Then Susan said
nervously, “Kirsty, just finish the job.  That looks
rude.”  She waved a hand slightly in the direction of
my exposed penis.

Kirsty gave one of her silly giggles.  “I don’t want
to do that, he might get mud inside him,” she excused

“The bathwater doesn’t go in so you can cover it up,”
I told her.  The thought struck me that I was glad I
hadn’t been circumcised, as I wasn’t too sure of the
effect of the mud had the hole in my penis been
exposed, but it was safely tucked away under my

Kirsty giggled annoyingly again.  “I – don’t want to
touch it,” she gave as her unconvincing excuse this
time, looking down on it all the time.

I could tell Cherie was feeling most uncomfortable. 
But Susan finally said, “You don’t have to touch it,”
and slopped some mud over it.

The girls now stood back and looked at the two of us
lying side by side under the mud, laughing.  Cherie’s
little vagina was easily visible as she stood there,
unconcerned now as well, although she did allow one
hand to stray close to it, as if feeling she must give
it some protection.

“Now they can get married in the mud,” Kirsty felt
obliged to contribute, along with the obligatory
giggles which were always part of the package.

The sun was very hot now and the clay was rapidly
drying up.  Tessa moved, and pieces of dried clay fell
off her.  Then Kirsty suddenly gasped and asked, “Roy,
how long have we been here?”

Instinctively I moved my arm to look at my watch,
knocking most of the dried clay off, suddenly worried
as it seemed we had been there for about two hours. 
The glass was covered in mud, so I had to free my
other arm to clear it.  “Just over half an hour!” I
exclaimed in surprise.  We had done do much in that
time that it had seemed more like two hours.

“I think we’d better go and shower now,” suggested
Tessa, sitting up and losing most of her clay.  “Just
in case somebody comes back quickly.”

“Imagine if Kevin came back and found us all naked,”
squealed Kirsty, acting silly again.  “Ooh!”  She
pushed her thighs together and thrust a hand over her
pubic hair, just as if Kevin had indeed arrived on the
scene and she was covering herself.  “We’d all get
into such trouble.”  She laughed louder than ever.

Tessa and I both got up, our skins black with mud,
while Kirsty and Susan were pretty muddy as well. 
Cherie’s arms and legs were muddy but she had only a
few smears on her white little body, on which the tan
lines from her swimming costume stood out clearly.

“How are we going to get from here to the showers?”
Susan suddenly remembered, thinking of the problem for
the first time.

“We go naked!” I grinned.  “We’re way out here and
nobody will see us at all!”

“Ooh, no, I can’t do that!” wailed Kirsty.

“You do what you like, then,” I told her, washing my
hands off in the stream and picking up my clothes. 
“Come on, Tessa.”  And I set off with her up over the
rocks, heading for the showers.

I looked back to see the others slowly following.  I
noticed Kirsty’s panties were still drying on the rock
and she had forgotten to pick them up, but she was
chattering away to Susan non-stop, and I couldn’t tell
her right then.  Within a moment I had forgotten.

I had no inhibitions at all about walking through the
grass and the trees naked as I headed for the showers.
 It was just like our naturist club.  Tessa looked a
little nervous, but seemed happy to be with me. 
Giggling from behind suggested there were still plenty
of inhibitions.  Kirsty and Susan were scuttling along
with hands and clothes fluttering over personal areas,
while Cherie came along in the rear with her dress
pressed firmly against her chest and hanging down to
hide her body.

Joyfully I broke into a run, and Tessa, laughing, ran
with me.  There were giggles from behind, and the
others began to run too, not wanting to be left
behind.  Our laughter, now through the sheer joy of
this daring experience, grew, as our jubilant throng
approached the showers.

I entered the shower room, and was immediately shouted
at by Kirsty.  “Hey, Roy, you can’t go in there,
that’s the girls’ side!”

“He’s been there before!” Tessa called back instantly,
and I knew she was thinking of that late-night shower
we had taken together a few days earlier.

“I know, but he can’t have a shower there – with us,”
complained Kirsty, thinking Tessa was talking about my
rescue of Cherie.

“Of course he can,” answered back Tessa, and I was
relieved she remembered not to give the game away
about our late-night shower.

When the other girls entered Tessa and I were already
turning on the water, using only the cold tap at this
time of day.  Even that water felt quite warm.  The
piece of soap was still there, and Tessa grabbed it

“Ooh, Roy, I think I’m even dirtier than I was the
other night,” she said, and then slapped her hand to
her mouth as she had forgotten again.  I glanced
round, but the noise of the water had stopped the
other girls from hearing what she had said.  The other
night, though, the clay had been drier all the time
and we had spent a while in the stream.

“Roy, if you wash me, then I’ll wash you,” offered

It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.  She came over into
my shower and I began, with only my hands to scrub.  I
ignored the comments of Kirsty in particular as I
rubbed my hands and the soap firmly up and down and
all over her smooth, soft little body, while she
laughed and occasionally chatted.  Then she washed me,
especially my back.

When we had finally finished, I turned to find Kirsty
next to me, grinning at me.  Water dripped from her,
and there were droplets on her tiny breasts and the
little bit of pubic hair she had.  “Roy, I can’t clean
my back, please help me,” she said.

She turned and presented me with her back, which I
scrubbed with my rather tired hands as best I could. 
There was some mud on her bottom still, and she
giggled as I washed her little rounded buttock cheeks.
 When I had finished she thanked me and returned to
her own shower, stopping short of asking me to wash
her front.

The others were not to be left out, although they were
rather more shy about asking.  Susan naturally had a
rather solid, podgy back, firmer than I had expected,
but her bottom was soft as I finished the job down

Cherie hesitated and stood there looking at me,
dripping water.  I sensed she was too shy to ask, so I
asked her, “Cherie, do you want me to wash your back
as well?”

She nodded, and moved into the shower with me.  I felt
very tender towards this shy, sweet girl who had
finally taken the plunge to go naked into the mud. 
Gently I rubbed her back clean, murmuring into her ear
now and again as I did so.  It was less dirty than the
others, as most of the mud had been on her arms and

It didn’t take me long, and at the end I asked her
hopefully, “Anywhere else?”

She thought, and then turned round and said, “There
are some marks on my tummy I can’t get off.”

I knelt down in front of her to deal with those.  They
were very small marks, although there was one smear at
the top of her groin that I had to remove carefully. 
Her tiny sweet vagina was just visible to me under the
curve of her loins and she didn’t seem at all bothered
now to have me see it – in fact, perhaps cleaning her
front was just an excuse to help her present herself
to me in the open trust that preteen girls sometimes
show.  Perhaps it is their equivalent of sex, although
there is nothing sexual about it, but just the gift of
showing me their body, or in lesser cases their

“There, now you’re beautiful again,” I teased her as I

“Thank you,” she whispered, but didn’t move away at
first.  I could tell she wanted to say something else
but was shy about it.  Finally she said quietly, “Roy,
thank you for – helping me out of the toilet.  And you
were right – up there at the mud.  It – doesn’t feel
so bad now.  Now I’m used to it.”

“Good, I’m glad of that,” I smiled.  I turned off the
shower and we joined the others.  We had no towels, of
course, but there was a big ray of sunshine pouring in
over the walls, so they were standing in that and
trying to dry themselves in the sun and with
handkerchiefs, of all things.

“Roy,” said Kirsty, grinning precociously as I went up
to them.  “I *dare* you to go back to camp naked.”

“All right,” I agreed straight away.  I had been
thinking how nice it would be to do just that, when
nobody from the rest of the camp was around.  “And I
dare you to join me.”

Kirsty squealed and giggled, but I suspected that
‘naughty’ wish, as she no doubt thought of it, had
been in her mind also.  “All right,” she sniggered. 
She turned to the other girls and said, “Let’s all do
it!  There’s nobody here, and it’ll be such fun!”

“Ooh!” squealed Susan, hands to mouth.  But she was
grinning, and the naughty look on her face showed she
was thinking the same thing.

“I’ll do it,” grinned Tessa happily.  Of all the
others, she was by some way the closest to a naturist,
not too concerned about nudity and unaffected by the
silliness of Kirsty and Susan.

“What about you, Cherie?” asked Kirsty.

Cherie made a noise that was perhaps a suppressed
giggle.  “I will – if you will,” she agreed.  She had
certainly made remarkable progress that morning.

“Right, let’s go, then!” I shouted, omitting the
futility of trying to dry myself without a towel. 
“Race you to the meeting place!”  Before they had time
to think, I picked up my clothes and raced out of the
door and ran at full speed down the slope, towards the
camp meeting place.

I had a good lead while the girls no doubt hoped
somebody else would be second, and by the time I
arrived, naked for the first time, in the open at our
meeting place, the others were a good 50 metres behind
me.  Tessa threw her arms in the air and gave a yell
of exuberance, while Kirsty and Susan laughed and
screamed quietly, if that is not a contradiction in
terms.  The quiet little Cherie just smiled
beautifully as she arrived with the others, panting
for breath.

“Ooh, this feels so funny!” grinned Kirsty,
instinctively putting one hand over her vagina as she
looked round.  “Just imagine, all the camp was here
only an hour ago!  I wonder if there has ever been
anybody else naked in this spot.  Probably not for
hundreds of years!”

Susan looked at me and gave a giggle.  “I want to see
the boys’ tents,” she whispered.

“Ooh, yes, let’s do that!” decided Kirsty.  “I’ve
always wanted to see inside the boys’ tents.  I bet
they’re so messy!  And we’ll be naked too, and they’ll
never find out.”

“Well, you can see inside our tent, but – I don’t
think it would be good to look at all of them,” I
said.  That seemed to satisfy them, so we walked over
to the boys’ tents together.

I opened the flap of our tent and, after hesitating,
they came inside.  It was actually pretty tidy, as we
hadn’t had time to mess it up after morning
inspection.  They wanted to know where I slept, and
Ernst, and of course Mickey.  “I wish we could put
some – some itching powder in his bed.  Or clay!”
exclaimed Kirsty.  It just showed again how far
Mickey’s stocks had fallen during the course of the

“Do you want to see our tent?” Tessa asked me.  I
nodded, so we walked over to the girls’ side of camp,
still naked and carrying our clothes.

Kirsty gave me a guided tour of the inside of their
neat little tent, pointing out all the beds.  Then she
asked me, “Roy, what’s the time now?”

Again we had forgotten about the time.  I looked at my
watch, looked again, and then stared.  It was still
showing the same time as it had after our fun in the
mud.  It seemed that my waterproof watch, which I
always wore in the pool, had succumbed to a dose of

“It’s stopped?!” squealed Kirsty, suddenly in a flap. 
“Ooh, Roy, we’ve been a long time and somebody may be
coming back for us right now!  And we’re *naked*! 
Quickly, get dressed quickly, everybody!”

She immediately started scrambling into her panties,
and Susan did the same.  I too was worried, but saw
there was no need to panic.  “Look, if somebody comes,
they’ll blow the whistle first, and shout, so we’ll
get warning,” I told her, but she seemed genuinely
panic-stricken.  The moment they were dressed, Kirsty
and Susan shot out of the tent, heading no doubt for
the meeting place in their clothes.  Cherie, dressing
hurriedly, was not far behind them.

So our fun was over as far as naturism was concerned. 
Tessa and I stood and looked at each other, alone and
naked together in her tent.  I felt rather deflated at
the sudden ending.  “Well, we’d better get dressed too
now,” I conceded.

She nodded.  Then she came over to me, slowly and
smiling, and planted a kiss on my cheek.  I turned and
kissed her in return, and then we wrapped our arms
round each other.  Our bodies were still cool from the
shower as we hugged tightly and lovingly, pressing our
cheeks together and kissing again.  My stomach was
pressed up against her chest, as I was taller, and my
penis, stiffening a little, against her hip, but she
didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Suddenly we heard a noise at the tent flap, and we
sprang apart sharply, thinking in our childish way of
one of the leaders come to fetch us and catching us in
two crimes at the same time – nudity and kissing.  Or
else it was Kirsty, and since my relationship was
Tessa was much more loving and intimate I didn’t want
her to see us together either.

But it was just Cherie, standing there sheepishly and
looking rather guilty at having caught us.  Tessa
suddenly grinned and asked, “Did you see us?”  She was
more curious than anything.

Cherie nodded nervously.  “You can have one as well if
you like,” Tessa offered generously.  “Roy, give
Cherie a cuddle.”

“If she wants,” I replied, smiling at her and awaiting
her reply.

Cherie’s cheeks went a little red, her mouth opened
slightly and she nodded.  I stepped towards her, and
she came to meet me.  I was naked, she was clothed,
but she didn’t seem to mind now.  I wrapped my arms
round her, while she wrapped hers rather woodenly
around me.  She obviously wasn’t used to this cuddling
sort of thing, but she was willing to try.

“Will you – would you like a kiss as well?” I
whispered into her ear.

She looked up at me, her face hot, but she nodded.  I
gave her a tender, gentle kiss just next to her ear. 
She smiled nervously and gave me one on my cheek.  It
was awkwardly done, but she was trying.

I gave her another squeeze, pressing her slim little
body against mine, and then we parted.  It was time
for me to get dressed, time for us to return to the
textile world and await whatever might happen over our
missed outing.

About 20 minutes later, Kevin and Wendy arrived in a
car to look for us.  When they all arrived at the
other farm, they checked everybody carefully and found
us missing.  The adult leaders were in a major panic,
not knowing what had happened to us and afraid they
would get into serious trouble if they had lost us. 
But they established that we had never arrived at the
meeting place, and Kevin volunteered to drive an
offered car back to look for us, along with Wendy.

Kevin was too level-headed to be angry with us until
he had heard our story, and then he agreed that we had
a good excuse in that we were rescuing Cherie,
although emphasising that I should have sent for help
straight away.  I felt very proud to have Wendy hear
from the girls how well I had looked after them all,
although she was quite a bit less fluent when Wendy
asked her what we had all been doing back at the camp.
 Kirsty’s overactive tongue worried me a bit, but
fortunately she had been so involved herself she never
gave away anything serious.

Miss Tate did flap a bit at us when we arrived, but
she was more relieved that we had been found safe and
that we had a reasonable excuse for missing the ride. 
We had an exciting day at the farm, and it wasn’t
until we were boarding the carts again for the ride
home that I happened to notice that Kirsty was still
not wearing any panties.

When we arrived back at camp just before dusk, she
came up to me and whispered in my ear.  “Roy, you’ll
never guess.  I left my panties by the stream, and
I’ve been walking round all day without any, but
nobody found out!  Please, Roy, please would you get
them for me?”

In vain I argued that I would be going out of bounds
at that time of day, and things would be even more
awkward if I were discovered carrying a pair of female
panties around with me.  But again I fell victim to
the damsel in distress situation.  I did manage to
sneak over to the stream, stuffed the panties inside
my shorts, and managed to deliver them to the grateful
owner without being caught.

The rest of camp passed without incident, although
Wendy did note with a laugh that I seemed to have an
unusual number of girls chasing me.  I found times and
places for cuddles with Tessa and occasionally Cherie,
while Kirsty kept trying to revive our secret sessions
in the hidden cave.  I did give her one more session
before camp finally ended.  Ernst and Maxi never got
together again, not surprisingly.  Ernst fortunately
seemed to lose interest in girls after that

It was the most memorable summer camp I ever attended.
 I like to think there are some girls, wherever they
are now, who look back on it, think of me, and think
the same thing.

(The End)

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