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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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--------------------------------------------------------
(C) 1993 Mark E. Dassad. May be reproduced and 
redistributed un-edited and un-altered in electronic 
format for NON-PROFIT ONLY with this notice intact. The 
author reserves the right to sell paper copies at huge 
profit to the disconnected. Any other use constitutes 
fraud, and you'll be hunted down like a dawg and 
violated if you violate this. Okay you can fix typos, 
but only if you send me corrections.
--------------------------------------------------------
			
Latrine Duty
by Mark E. Dassad (1993)

***

A boy at an all boy's summer camp is attacked over and 
over again by tough boys. They're bigger than him and 
they like to use him like they would a girl if there 
had been any in camp. (MM-teens, nc, rp, huml)

***

Staring at his feet, morosely swabbing the floor at the 
far wall of the of the latrine trying not to breathe 
through his nose the sickly sweet stench of industrial 
strength disinfectant clings roughly to the back of his 
throat.

His rectum finally recovered from the reaming it took 
his first night in camp he moves sluggishly having lain 
sleepless for the past three nights; each day in the 
mess-hall his attackers have promised a return visit, 
but they have yet to make good on that promise.

Too tired to react quickly he sees a foot snake out, 
tip the metal mop-bucket over. Filthy soapy water 
sloshes over his feet soaking into his sneakers running 
through the slick wood floorboards; the overwhelming 
smell of pine disinfectant rising up from his feet 
makes him gag. 

A pair of hands grab him roughly by the front of his t-
shirt, slam him backwards against the wooden wall with 
a dull thud. He moves instinctively to raise the mop 
handle in defense, but the hands of the boy towering 
over him grab the mop wrench it from his hands tossing 
it casually aside, smiling, slamming him effortlessly 
back into the wall.

"Randy says you give excellent head." Smiling.

His stomach is in his mouth, he feels the bile rise, 
looks wildly past the boy trapping him in the far end 
of the latrine. He sees Randy, another boy he 
recognizes as one of the baseball jocks, leaning 
against the row of sinks near the door, smirking. He 
twitches nervously, his eyes drawn to the noticeable 
bulge in Randy's jeans.

"Colin!" he yelps the name of their counselor but the 
boy in front of him closes in, grinning down into his 
face.

"Counselor ain't here, pussy. It's quiet hour. Probably 
trying to score with the nurse."

Large hands grab the tops of his shoulders, push him 
relentlessly to his knees.

"Blow me, faggot."

He screws his eyes shut, kneeling in the filthy soapy 
water spilled from the bucket, his arms at his side, 
his lips pressed tightly shut he hears the unmistakable 
sound of a zipper. A smack across the side of his head 
sends him reeling, he raises his hands to protect his 
head, is kneed in the stomach. 

Clutching at his gut, blows rain down on him from all 
directions until he feels a hand in his hair. He 
reaches up to clutch at the hand, trying not to shriek 
at the pain, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut 
desperately avoiding the sight of the penis he knows is 
dangling in front of his face."

"Blow me you goddamn faggot, unless you wanna take it 
up your ass instead?"

His mind careens at the mere mention of sodomy, tears 
roll down the sides of his face. He whimpers, opens his 
eyes to the sight of a hard fat penis oozing pre-cum, 
cannot bear to voluntarily take this strange boy's 
penis in his mouth, cannot bear to actively suck on 
it...

He sees a hand reach out to grab at his shoulder and 
lift him to his feet; terrified of another butt-fucking 
he opens his mouth and lunges forward onto the cock 
before him. He licks clumsily, gagging as the boy grabs 
his hair and thrusts into his face he hears the boy 
moaning appreciatively, feels a bulging cock head 
pressing against the back of his throat. 

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, instinct 
makes him press them against his attacker's legs as he 
feels the cock thrust down into his throat harder and 
more insistently blocking his air passage he cannot 
breathe panicking now struggling instinctively.

A familiar sickening slimy wetness spreads at the back 
of his throat, the bludgeoning penis is withdrawn from 
his face, the major volume of sperm sprayed into his 
hair, some in his face he flinches, hears laughter, 
feels a thick gob of warm wet jism sliding down his 
cheek.

"Fuckin' hose the pansy down goddamn!" Randy said.

He is coughing, doubled over spitting semen onto the 
latrine floor, wiping it from his face, only vaguely 
aware that the first boy has pulled up his pants and 
moved back to the look-out position, replaced by 
Randy's baseball pal.

He kneels up, sees the boy standing over him dick in 
hand waiting expectantly for his blow-job.

"Well, asshole?"

Unable to envision an escape from the afternoon's 
ordeal he lurches forward sucking the boy's penis into 
his mouth he pulls back, sliding his mouth along the 
length rolling his tongue around the head, slowly, 
instinctively, somehow dimly aware that if he actively 
sucks the boy he has more control, won't be strangled, 
he bobs his head up and down along the rubbery flesh 
this boy's penis is shorter and thinner than the first 
boy's he uses his hands to squeeze the boy's balls 
hoping it will make him come sooner, get it over with 
faster.

His instincts are good; after only a few long minutes 
of attention, the penis in his mouth is squirting semen 
the boy is moaning and clutching at his cum-spattered 
hair humping into his face, he feels the softening 
penis sliding wetly against the roof of his mouth, 
hears Randy and the other boy offering encouragement 
from where they stand guard to their friend lost in the 
throes of ecstasy.

The penis is withdrawn from his mouth, more semen 
coughed up, spit onto the floor, offered up at the feet 
of his second attacker.

"Man you gotta learn to swallow, your mother says my 
jizz is tasty!"

He is still kneeling and spitting, hearing the laughter 
echo about the small building as Randy approaches. He 
looks into the face hovering over him, his eyes black 
with hatred.	Randy smiles.

"You know you love it."

He kneels, not moving, still glaring.

"Get up."

He stands uncertainly, wobbling slightly, his jeans are 
soaked, his sneakers grey and soggy, cum is still 
matted in his hair his face is red from crying and 
choking.

Randy moves forward and grabs him around the neck with 
one arm, pulling him toward the nearest stall; it gives 
some privacy for what passes for toilet facilities: an 
enclosed platform with an oval hole cut in it poised 
over a pit in the ground, the fetid odor of shit and 
piss covered with campfire ashes and Lysol wafting up 
from within.

He struggles furiously as he realizes his bunk-mate's 
intentions, scuffling and slipping on the slimy wooden 
floor he is not much smaller than Randy but he is not 
at all athletically inclined, and the larger of Randy's 
friends, the first boy, the one with the big dick, 
joins the fray; together they manage to drag him into 
the stall; they've bent him double and stuffed his head 
down through the seat-hole, he is staring down into the 
dark vile pit of human waste puking up lunch and 
choking on bile as he feels a meaty fist dig into his 
side.

Pain explodes on impact, radiates outward, hands are 
tearing at his jeans, reaching around to pull at his 
belt, there is almost no gap between the time his jeans 
and underwear are yanked down around his thighs and a 
penis -- he assumes it is Randy's -- is thrust through 
his asshole and up into his rectum.

The stench is overwhelming, he is vomiting helplessly, 
nausea competing with the terrible burning pain as his 
bunk-mate's young cock glides roughly in and out of his 
ass hands clutch his shoulders for support hips slam 
brutally against his buttocks as the cock between his 
cheeks is driven deep into his depths he alternates 
barfing and screaming the sounds of his distress lost, 
muffled in the foul fetid pit underneath the building 
in which he is being violated.

He feels a warm wet burst deep in his rectum, distant 
grunts of pleasure filter down to his ears as thick 
strong hands around his neck tell him his ordeal is not 
completed even as he feels the cock that he assumes 
belongs to Randy slip from his bowels.

"Faggot's pretty good at this."

He hears excited laughter from Randy's jock friend, has 
no time to wonder at the friend's ability to get it up 
again as he feels the fat helmet of a well-developed 
dick tear open his ass-muscle he shrieks and struggles 
violently the already abused walls of his rectum 
stretched impossibly wide in an effort to accommodate 
the intruder. 

A fist smashes into his side again and for a brief 
moment he believes he will pass out from the pain as 
the raping bludgeon is pulled from his ass and brutally 
regenerates.	Every ounce of muscle in his body tenses 
with the effort of screaming and twisting as his arms 
clutch wildly at the walls of the stall, his rectum is 
turned nearly inside out as he feels strong hands 
gripping his shoulders, strong hips slamming into him, 
a fat penis stretching him open, his buttocks 
flattening on impact he feels his rapist's testicles 
slap against his own each time the monstrous cock is 
rammed more deeply into him.

He is not lucky enough to faint; his mind clears slowly 
and he is still gagging from the stench enveloping his 
head; animal-like moans of pleasure fill the small 
wooden stall as his sphincter is stretched wider than 
he can bear he begins to wail in a steady keening 
rhythm as the cock filling his ass pounds in and out, 
in and out, over and over and over and over again in a 
steady brutal rhythm his groin slams again and again 
and again into the edge of the wooden platform he is 
trapped in an eternity bubble, time stands still, he is 
being raped forever.

The eternity bubble bursts; the boy buried in his ass 
stands immobile for a long, agonizing moment; he feels 
the body clutched against him, the cock invading him, 
tense, thrust brutally. Once, twice, three times. 

He feels a wet warm spurt of cum deep in his ass 
punctuate each thrust, and he feels his sphincter spasm 
uncontrollably, winking relief as the fat dick is 
finally pulled from his ass with a wet popping sound. 
He kneels back, sobbing, pulling his head from the crap 
hole, gulping in the relative freshness of the air 
around him feeling semen wet and slimy deep inside his 
rectum slowly leaking from his tortured ass-muscle. He 
feels a hand grab the back of his head, pulling at his 
hair so his face is pointing upward.

"You the camp slut this Summer, huh freak?"

He squeezes his eyes shut against leering face of 
Randy's friend.

"Colin's on the path."

His head is dropped, sounds of pants hastily pulled up, 
a zipper worked, a belt being buckled. Sneakers pound 
quickly down the wooden steps of the latrine, he is 
alone. Early afternoon sun is streaming into through 
the window, shining off the spilled water. He hears 
footsteps again and hastily pulls the stall door shut.

"Hey, you in there?"

Colin, their counselor. He's Angry.

"On the can..." He calls out timidly.

"Finish up goddammit, it's time for swimming."

He waits, hoping Colin will leave, not noticing the 
mess.

"What the fuck's with the water all over the floor?!"

Fearful silence...

"I tripped."

Disgusted snort. "Guess you earned your nickname."

A longer silence...

"Well finish up. You got latrine duty again tomorrow 
for fucking up today."

Listening to the footsteps retreat he collapses, 
sobbing silently, praying that Colin will hang around 
the bunks during quiet hour tomorrow, knowing he won't.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 64