Wiseguys, Witches and Girl Scouts.
When I was a kid in Boy Scout camp, there was a Girl Scout camp on the other side of the lake. At night in our cabin, we’d talk about sneaking out, swiping some canoes and paddling across to the other camp. We talked about it every summer, but it was just talk — the stuff of sleeping-bag hard-ons. Then, suddenly one summer, we actually did it.
Of course, we were all clueless when it came to sex, so our midnight trip wouldn’t have amounted to much if we hadn’t stumbled across a couple of young ladies who were precocious far beyond their years. The result was that at about 2 a.m. I was lying behind a beached canoe with my wet swimming trunks around my ankles and my stiff little dick in the fingers of a curious Girl Scout who was determined to find out all she could about my “thing.” The main thing she found out was that a penis played with long enough was likely to start squirting sticky stuff. When that happened, she was very pleased with herself.
It was the first time I’d had a girl handle my dick, and it made a big impression on me. I couldn’t begin to count how many times over the years I’ve jacked off while thinking about Betty Ann Bauer’s hot little hand fiddling with my penis.
I’d never had my dick in the fingers of a Girl Scout since then, but now I did – an ADULT one – and I was way too old for this kind of campfire game with a nymphet. I didn’t have anything to say about it, though — my arms were tied tightly behind my back and a pair of damp panties was wadded up and jammed into my mouth. Dozens of tiny teddy bears were printed on the cotton panties.
I was almost worse off in the hands of this little broad and her Girl Scout buddies than I’d been the evening before when Joey Balls and his assorted thugs caught me spying on their combo Walpurgis Night and drug drop. Clive Jones had been taken aback when Joey informed him that I was a private investigator named Dan Diamond instead of the “Phil Marlowe” who had registered as a guest at his Mountain Sun Nature Colony, and I guess he was a little put out, because he slammed the gun he’d been pointing at me into the side of my head.
I was groggy as a couple of Joey’s boys dragged me back up the path to the nudist camp and tossed me through the door of a little outbuilding that looked to me in my dazed state like a chicken house. I was coming home to roost. I heard them sliding some kind of latch into place and then the click of a lock, and I sat up on the dirt floor and tried to get some idea of where I was. It was very dark inside the little building, but someone lit a match and used it to light a stub of candle. I could see by the flickering light that I was sharing the honeymoon suite with Glinda MacDonald.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’ve been better, but I guess I’ll live,” I answered. “How about you, Glinda?”
“You know who I am?” she said, sounding surprised.
“Right,” I said. “I’m Dan Diamond, a private investigator, and your husband sent me up here to look for you.”
“Well, you found me, Dan,” she said. “Congratulations. Now what do you do for an encore?”
“Usually I’m the one with the sarcastic lines, babe,” I told her, “but that’s a fair question. The thing is, I don’t have a clue. Got any ideas?”
“If I did, I would be sitting here bare-assed in the chicken shit, freezing my butt off,” she said.
I liked this kid. I couldn’t see her married to a little smuck like Ron MacDonald, but I liked her style.
“Why don’t we begin by your giving me some idea of what’s going on?” I said.
“So, do you know about the Church of Cosmic Truth and the Mountain Sun camp and all that stuff?” she asked.
“Ron filled me in on that,” I answered. “The nudist camp fronts for your fun and games in the woods. You run around naked and play at being witches, and all the local hicks figure you’re just getting a great suntan.”
“Well, fuck you very much,” she said. “I happen to be serious about my religion.”
“We’ll pass on that,” I told her. “Just fast-forward to the mob guys.”
“About two months ago, somebody tipped Joey Balsemo to what was going on up here,” she explained. “We don’t have any idea who told him, but he thought it sounded like a good cover for flying in drugs, coke mostly. So he came up and pushed Clive Jones around a little and told him that he was taking over things. He didn’t have to push real hard, because Clive is a super creep, and if he can make a fast buck, he doesn’t much mind how he does it.”
“So what got you thrown into this chicken coop?” I asked.
“I didn’t like what was going on,” she said. “Like I said, I’m serious about my religion, no matter what you think about it, and I didn’t want to see it exploited. Besides, the drug thing bothered me. I guess it’s crazy, because I enjoy a little toot now and then, but seeing Joey and his hoods bringing in all this stuff really got to me.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“That’s what I don’t understand,” she said. “I hadn’t done anything yet. I’d talked it over with Ron and a couple of my friends in the coven, but I really hadn’t told anyone on the outside yet. But the hoods found out somehow and tossed me in here, and now I get stuck in the butt with that big dong every night there’s a fire ceremony. The funny thing is, my friend Endora still brings me food and stuff, but she’s getting pissed off at me because she doesn’t get her turn bent over that rock anymore.”
“Ron knew about the drugs?” I said. “He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“I guess he figured it would frighten you off,” she said. “He’s scared shitless about the whole thing himself.”
I wanted to ask her how she got together with a little mouse like Ron in the first place, but I decided that could wait until later, maybe when we got to know each other better. Meanwhile, I needed to get some sleep. There was only one blanket, but Glinda offered to share it with me, and we rolled up in it together, with her warm, naked backside pressed into me. Immediately, the last thing on my mind was sleeping, and Glinda had to know that, too, because my growing erection was pressing into her buttocks.
“Okay, Diamond,” she said. “Let’s try it the other way, with your back to me. There’s no way I’m getting to sleep with that thing poking me.”
We made the change. Now her firm little tits were pressing into my back, and I still didn’t feel much like snoozing, but she went right to sleep and began lightly snoring, snuggled against me. I lay there a long time, tired but wide awake, until I finally fell asleep. When I awakened, a faint light was showing through the cracks in the plank walls, and I was mad because I’d been having a dream about those Boy Scout days and Betty Ann playing with my dick and I woke up before she was done. Then I realized it wasn’t a dream. Glinda’s hand had my erection in a firm grip and was slowly pumping it.
“You want to do something with this, Danny boy,” she asked.
That was okay by me. I rolled over on top of her and slipped my hand between her legs. She was already wet. I shifted my body between her thighs.
“Not on my back,” she said. “The ground’s too hard.”
She got up on her hands and knees and presented her backside to me with a little wiggle. That was okay by me, too. I got onto my knees, spread her buttocks and plunged my dick between the slippery lips of her sex. It slid in easily, and I pushed it as deep as I could and held it there for a few minutes as my hands reached around her body and squeezed her breasts. I pinched and pulled on her hard nipples, and she gave a little moan and wiggled her bottom again. We began fucking slowly, taking our time, forgetting for a while about Joey Balls and about the fact that we were prisoners and about everything except my erection sliding in and out of her dripping pussy. Then I heard the door open, and when I looked back over my shoulder, three or four of Joey’s goons were peering in, grinning at us and crowding one another for a better look.
“Get their asses out of there,” Joey said from somewhere outside.
Glinda was concentrating so hard on getting fucked that she didn’t even know they were there until two of them pulled me off her. Seconds later, two more hauled her up, too, and they dragged us both outside, with Glinda’s juices still glistening on my penis in the bright sunlight. I didn’t try to struggle, especially when I saw Joey standing there with a gun pointed in my direction. An old pipe corral was standing thirty or forty feet away, though there was no sign of any horses. They marched Glinda and me over there, lifted us up and draped us over the top rail of pipe with our arms and legs dangling down. Our wrists and ankles were tied to the next rail down, so that we were doubled over with our bottoms high in the air.
They went away and left us in that uncomfortable position, looking back at the upside-down scenery from between our spread legs. Naturally, every fly in the county decided to come and walk around on us for a while, and they zeroed in on my dick, still sticky from Glinda. From there, they had just a slight stroll to my asshole, which is not a fun place to have flies walking around. I could imagine what they were doing to Glinda, who was not particularly pleased with this turn of events.
She was being a little repetitious, but I got the point.
“Why in the fuck did you have to come along and piss Joey off?” she asked.
I didn’t figure she really wanted an answer, though I could have thought of several, including the fact that I was there to try to get her out of the big mess she’d gotten herself into with her witch games.
“And why in the fuck didn’t you at least get me off before they got there?” she ranted.
Isn’t that the way it always is? Sometimes the chick says you’re too fast in the sack. Sometimes she says you’re too slow. If I’d figured that the High Sierras chapter of the Cosa Nostra was going to pay us an early-morning call, I’d have picked up the pace, but who knew?
About this time, Joey Balls and his hoods came back, along with Clive Jones and his missus and the rest of the Cosmic Truth crowd, all naked. There might have been some of your ordinary, run-of-the-mill nudists in there, but I doubt it. They probably wouldn’t have been invited to this little party, considering what was about to happen to us.
Good ol’ Clive started things off with a speech, telling the faithful that they were about to see what happened to someone who wasn’t true to the Truth — to the Cosmic Truth, that is. He was shoveling on so much shit that he could have qualified for his Ph.D. You know, Piled Higher and Deeper.
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, needledick?” Glinda shouted at him.
I could have told her that it’s usually a bad idea to irritate someone when they’ve got you naked and tied butt-up over a fence. Clive didn’t seem to me like the kind of guy who would shrug off nasty remarks about either his equipment or his oratory. But Joey stopped the speech-making anyway. Mr. Balsemo was a man of few words, almost all of them limited to a syllable or two.
“Okay, cut the crap!” Joey said. “You creeps take a good look at this, so you know what happens to anyone you goes around shooting off their mouth. And this ain’t all, either. You could be taking a little plane ride and you wouldn’t be comin’ back. You got it?”
No one said anything, but everyone probably got it. All the faces of the Golden Truthers looked pretty solemn, even viewed upside-down from between my legs. All the faces except Clive’s anyway. He was smiling broadly as he stepped up and slashed me twice across my buttocks with a riding crop, two hard strokes that he aimed at the welts left by Stella’s caning two days before. I couldn’t help yelling. He switched to Glinda and hit her lovely little bottom twice with all his force, getting back at her for that “needledick” crack. He was standing just behind me as he hit her, and I saw that his tiny penis had what might pass for an erection — if you didn’t expect much. Apparently, whipping people turned Clive on. He probably got a lot of kicks out of his coven’s initiation ceremonies.
So then the boys and girls of the Cosmic Truth had to line up and give us a couple of swats each with the crop. A few of them seemed to enjoy it, but you could tell that most of them didn’t have their hearts in it. Two or three even murmured, “Sorry,” before they hit us. But nobody held back, not with Joey staring at them to make sure they didn’t go easy. There must have been fourteen or fifteen of them, and by the time they were through, Glinda’s curses had turned to sobs. She was bawling, and a few tears — more than a few, I guess — were running down my own face. My bottom felt swollen and gigantic, and my butt cheeks burned as though someone was holding a blowtorch to them.
When everyone had a turn, and Clive had a second go-round, Joey’s boys took us down from the fence, tied our arms behind us and tossed us back into the chicken shed. I rolled onto my side to give my fiery bottom some air and lay there listening to Glinda cry. We lay there a very long time, and her sobbing eventually faded away into an occasional snuffle.
“So what happens now, Dan?” she said finally.
“I don’t know, kid,” I told her. “I really don’t know. If I don’t call my secretary today, she’s probably going to start worrying about me, but I don’t have any idea how long it’s going to take her to get someone up here.”
“Terrific,” Glinda said. “Just terrific.”
The long hours went by. The light through the cracks in the wall faded. It was almost dark when a couple of hoods came into the shed and lifted me to my feet.
“Time to go for a plane ride, Diamond,” one of them said.
“A short one,” the other added, and they both laughed.
“Hang in there, kid,” I told Glinda as they led me away. “I’ll get back to you on this one.”
I didn’t feel nearly as brave as I was acting. My heart was pounding as they led me down the trail to the lake and the waiting plane. We were getting close to the lake when I decided I’d have to try something, so I pretended to stumble and fell to the ground. When the thugs bent over to haul me up, I drew my knees up to my chest and quickly straightened my legs, smashing a heel into each of their faces. One of them fell as if he’d been pole-axed. The other stumbled back howling, his hands holding his face and blood gushing between his fingers from his shattered nose. I got my legs under me, managed to get to my feet and drove the top of my head hard into where he was holding his face. He went down alongside his buddy and thrashed around in the dirt screaming.
I ran down the trail toward the lake, going as fast as I could with my hands still fastened behind me. When I got to the water, I turned to my left and ran down the rocky shore between the lake and the wall of trees. Luckily, they’d never taken my sandals, so I was able to handle the rocks, but I was careful not to trip in the growing darkness. I had no idea where I was going. I just wanted to put as much distance as I could between myself and the Mountain Sun Nature Colony.
I trotted along the shore for thirty or forty minutes, and then I saw some lights in the trees ahead. In a few more minutes, the treeline fell back, and I came to a large clearing along the shore. There was a dock jutting out into the lake, and tent-cabins like the ones at Mountain Sun were scattered around the clearing. This was obviously some kind of a camp. More nudists? More witches? More wiseguys? I couldn’t do any worse than that — or so I thought.
The lights that I’d seen were on poles scattered around the campground, but the cabins and other buildings were dark except for one of the canvas-topped cabins on the farthest edge of the clearing. There was a flickering light inside, like candles with their flames waving in the cool breeze blowing off the lake. I walked up to the cabin as quietly as I could. A naked man appearing out of the night was bound to be a little startling for the campers, and I wanted to check out who was in there and figure out how to introduce myself: “Hi, I’m Dan Diamond, the Nude Detective. How it’s going this evening?” I was going to have to do better than that.
Canvas flaps had been lowered on most of the screen windows that made up the upper walls of the cabin, but there was an uncovered window next to the screen door. I tiptoed up and peered inside. There were six cots in the cabin, three down each side, with a clear space in the middle that was now filled by a circle of seated girls — young-looking, probably teen-agers — who were watching a girl with short, dark hair dancing by candlelight in the middle of the floor. She was nude except for a pair of panties. The others were dressed in an assortment of pajamas and nightgowns.
The dancing girl looked to be fifteen or sixteen and a bit chubby, with a little belly on her that was cute at her age but would worry her in a year or two. Her small, cone-shaped breasts were beginning to fill out, and she was running her hands over them as she twisted her hips and bobbed up and down. She caught her nipples between the sides of the fingers spread across her boobies and gave a few moans that were intended to sound erotic. Her audience probably thought so, if their gaping mouths were any evidence. She slid her hands down her sides and caught the top of her little panties, tugging them down over her gyrating hips. She’d either shaved the triangle between her legs or she was still too young to have much hair around her slit. The lips of her pussy were larger than I expected and were obviously wet — she was turning herself on as much as she was her rapt audience.
The truth is, she was turning me on, too, and I stepped sideways to see better. I didn’t pay attention to where I was stepping and I bumped into something — a canoe paddle, it turned out –that fell with a clatter onto the cement steps of the cabin. The girls squealed, and the ones on the floor jumped to their feet. The girl who had been dancing grabbed a flashlight off one of the cots and shined it through the screen, spotlighting me standing there naked with my hands tied behind me and sporting a stiff penis. There were more squeals from inside, but the dark-haired girl threw open the screen and stepped outside.
“It’s okay,” she said. “His hands are tied up!”
In a few seconds, I was surrounded by teen-age girls, running the beams of their flashlights up and down my nude body and gaping at me in the same way they’d been watching the dancer. When they realized that I really was helpless, their stunned silence turned into giggles, and the flashlight beams lingered on my genitals.
“Hi, girls,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here, because I really need your help. I’m trying to get away from some bad people, and I’d really appreciate if you’d untie my hands.”
The five other girls looked at the dancer, who didn’t seem to mind standing there naked in front of me. She still had her panties in one hand, but she didn’t bother slipping them back on or trying to hide her breasts or crotch. The others were obviously waiting for her to tell them what to do.
“You were spying on us!” she said. “And you don’t have any clothes, and your thing is sticking out. If you think we’re going to untie you, you must be crazy!”
“I’m not dressed because I was at the nudist camp down the lake,” I explained, “except it’s not a nudist camp. I know it sounds crazy, but some of the people down there are witches, and some of them are bad people who sell drugs, bad drugs. And they’re going to be chasing me, and I need — ”
I couldn’t finish saying just what I needed, because the dark-haired girl shoved the panties she’d been holding into my open mouth. That’s when I noticed the little teddy bears printed on the thin cotton fabric, still moist from her young body.
“What a liar!” she said. “I know everyone at Mountain Sun, and they’re all really nice people, including my mom and dad. I want you to just shut up until we can decide what to do with you!” With that, she spun around and went back into the tent. “Bring him in here,” she said over her shoulder to the other girls as she flounced up the steps with her bare little butt wagging.
The girls hesitated for a moment, looking at one another to see who was going to go first, and then they grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up the steps into the cabin. I felt hands on my butt, pushing me forward. I stumbled and almost fell over the sill of the door, but regained my balance with a few staggering steps into the middle of the room.
“Oh, look at his tushie!” one of the girls said. “Somebody gave him a really bad spanking!”
The dark-haired girl walked behind me and ran her fingers over the welts left by the two bad whippings I’d gotten over the last couple of days, first from an over-zealous Stella and then from the Cosmic Truth gang. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “He didn’t follow the rules or something at the camp, and he got a spanking as punishment. That’s one of the rules, too. And he was running away so he wouldn’t get whipped again. He’s just a big liar!”
“I don’t know, Roxanne,” one of the other girls said. “He sounded like he really meant what he said.”
“What are you saying?” Roxanne said angrily. “Do you think my dad is going to have witches and drugs and stuff at his camp?”
“I guess not,” the other girl said, but she sounded doubtful.
This latest turn of events was hard to believe. Apparently, this Roxanne was Clive Jones’ kid. I escape to a girls’ camp, and the cabin I blunder into turns out to be run by the daughter of one of the guys I’m trying to get away from. Is that lousy luck or what? Or maybe it was just bad karma. God knows, I probably deserved some of that. I made a silent promise to whoever or whatever was looking down on me to be a better person if I survived this mess.
I looked around the cabin. From the green shorts and the neckerchiefs hanging from hooks on the posts between the screen windows, it appeared that I was in the clutches of a bunch of Girl Scouts. Or Campfire Girls maybe? I wondered whether there were any instructions in the Girl Scout Handbook for situations like this. Probably not. I doubted that there was even a merit badge they could earn for capturing me. Good Citizenship maybe — for preventing an unsavory character from running around frightening folks with his pecker waving in the breeze.
But the girls must not have been too bothered by my nudity, because they didn’t make any effort to cover me up. It was a toss-up whether they were staring harder at my dick or at the marks on my bottom. I felt someone else’s fingers tracing the lines of the welts left by Stella’s caning.
“I never heard of an old person getting spanked,” a little red-haired girl with freckles said.
“Sure they do,” another one said. “Like the sailors on those old ships. You know those mean captains? Those guys were always having somebody flogged or something.”
“But that was a long time ago,” the first girl said, “or, like, in the movies.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Roxanne said contemptuously. “Grown people get spanked all the time. All the time! And some of them like to get spanked. They pay other people to do it to them.”
Most of the other girls looked stunned by this information, though one tall, blond youngster nodded knowingly, as though none of this came as a surprise to someone as experienced as she was. I wondered just how old these girls were. They didn’t seem young enough to be Girl Scouts, but maybe they were Senior Girl Scouts. My niece Charlotte used to be one of those, and it seems to me that she was fifteen or sixteen at the time. That seemed about right for this bunch.
“If he’s not a nice man, maybe we should spank him,” the little girl with red hair said.
I’d seen that suggestion coming a long way off. You could almost see the wheels spinning in the girls’ heads when they were looking at my red bottom, all those innocent — or not so innocent — minds wondering what it would be like to see someone whipped. They all turned their eyes to Roxanne, waiting to see what she thought of the redhead’s idea.
“That was just what I was going to say, Cindy,” said Roxanne. “He was spying on us, and he’s naked, and his thing is all hard, so he must be some kind of pervert or something. And he’s a liar, too! He really deserves whatever, like, punishment he gets.”
“I don’t know, Roxy,” a tall, skinny girl wearing glasses said. “His tushie looks like it’s already really sore. We could hurt him bad.”
Roxanne wheeled around and stared at her.
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“I was just thinking –” the girl began.
“Well, you need to stop thinking,” Roxanne said. “Did you forget that I was elected Eminent Commander of this tent? Did you forget that, Joyce?”
“No,” said the girl, hanging her head.
“I think you did,” Roxanne said, “and you have got to be reminded. Get down on your knees and swear the oath.”
Joyce dropped reluctantly to her knees and looked up at the dark-haired girl.
“Go ahead!” Roxanne ordered.
“On my honor as a member of the Terrible Tribe of Tent 13, I promise to always remain loyal to our tent and to obey Eminent Commander Roxanne at all times,” the girl said.
Roxanne turned around and bent over, presenting her backside in front of the other girl’s face. She reached back and spread her cheeks.
“Now give me the Sacred Kiss,” she said.
Joyce stuck out her tongue, leaned over and touched it quickly to Roxanne’s anus.
“Harder!” Roxanne said. “And keep it there!”
The other girl made a face, but she did as she’d been ordered and licked her Eminent Commander’s bottom. When she was satisfied that she’d been obeyed, Roxanne spun around and slapped the other girl hard on her cheek.
“Now shut up!” she said. “Or we’ll whip you, too!” She looked up at the other girls. “And you guys find something to spank him with.”
The other girls hurried to search their belongings, eager to obey and avoid having to apply the Sacred Kiss to Roxanne’s backside. Most of them came back with hairbrushes, but one had a wide leather belt. Roxanne grabbed the small hairbrush that the little redhead was holding and threw it aside in disgust. The large, broad wooden one that the tall blonde girl had dug up suited Roxanne better, and she swatted me on the side of my left thigh with it. The blow landed with a loud smack and left a red mark on the white skin.
“Okay,” she said, “this one is pretty good. Bend him over the end of Emily’s cot.”
Two of the girls seized my bound arms, turned me around and pushed me facedown over the round bottom rail of the metal cot. I could probably have tossed them off, but the six girls would have wrestled me over the end of the bed eventually, so I decided to give in to the inevitable. When my face was pressing into the blanket, my middle was still several inches off the low rail, and they kicked my feet apart until my naked belly was pressing on the rail. My dick and balls dangled beneath the puckered rim of my anus, and I hoped that Roxanne wouldn’t aim any blows in their direction.
She didn’t, but she paddled my bottom furiously with all her strength. The broad back of the hairbrush landed smack after smack on the burning, quivering flesh, and when she finally tired of hitting me, she turned the brush over and gave my fiery backside a rubdown with the stiff bristles. When the girls finally stood me up, I had a few tears running down my cheeks. If tough guys don’t cry, I guess I’m not too tough — at least not when I’m being spanked by a sadistic Girl Scout.
After I blinked away the tears and could see Roxanne standing in front of me, I saw that she had a big smile on her face. She still hadn’t bothered to put on any clothing, and I could see that the hard little nipples on her small breasts were erect and swollen. It looked as if this kid had a promising career ahead of her in “fantasy management,” as they call it in the B&D ads.
“His bottom is really, really red!” said one of the girls in awed tones.
“So is his pee-pee,” added the little red-haired girl, “and it’s really big now!”
“He’s got a hard-on,” the blonde said in her best know-it-all voice. “See, that shows he likes being spanked.”
“You think you know all about hard-ons, Rachel?” asked Roxanne.
“Sure,” the blonde answered. “I made my brother show me his a long time ago.”
“Did you ever touch one?”
“Sure, plenty of times,” Rachel said, but she didn’t sound too convincing.
“Your brother’s?”
“No way!” the girl replied. “Like, other guys. You know.”
“Okay,” said Roxanne. “So let’s see you touch his now.”
Rachel looked shocked, and her face turned bright red.
“I’m not going to touch some old guy’s thing,” she said.
“Oh, yes, you are!” Roxanne said. “And if you don’t, you’re going to get a really good spanking, too.”
Rachel looked around at the other girls, but she didn’t see any signs of support. They were obviously eager to see her do it. So the tall girl gingerly reached out her hand and touched my dick on its tip with a single finger.
“No, not like that,” Roxanne ordered. “Put your whole hand around it.”
The girl hesitated for a moment, and then she wrapped her fingers around my erection. She looked as if she was afraid that it was going to snap at her, but when she found out that it didn’t bite, she squeezed harder.
“It’s, like, throbbing!” she said.
“He’s probably about ready to squirt his stuff out,” said Cindy, the little red-haired girl.
Rachel squealed, dropped my dick as though it were red-hot and jumped back. If it hadn’t been for the teddy-bear panties stuffed into my mouth, I could have told her that I wasn’t that close — though if she’d been squeezing any tighter, I might have been headed in that direction. Roxanne reached out, grabbed my erection and pulled it a couple of times to see for herself.
“No, he’s not,” she said. “I’m going to make him squirt, though. But first everyone has to touch it.”
The other girls looked around at one another again. I thought some of them were going to object, but the ice apparently had been broken by Rachel. One after another, they took my dick in their hot little hands. The first two just held it loosely in their fingers for a few minutes; the third squeezed it tightly. Little red-haired Cindy went last, and to the astonishment of the other girls, she stood to one side of me, gripped my penis firmly in her right hand and began jacking me off as rapidly as she could. I was as surprised as her fellow Girl Scouts. Cindy was no beginner!
Looking back, I am embarrassed and ashamed by what happened in the teen-agers’ cabin. There wasn’t much I could do about it with my arms bound, and protesting was impossible because of the panties crammed into my mouth, but I didn’t have to get so turned on by standing naked in the circle of curious girls and feeling Cindy’s little fingers on my penis. And I was turned on. I undeniably was. My freshly paddled bottom and the circle of eager faces and the hand stroking faster and faster merged into waves of sensation that focused in my groin and came pouring out in a huge spurt of cum that arced into the air and landed on Roxanne’s bare left leg. Cindy continued to milk me expertly, squeezing out every drop until I was spent and my legs were shaking.
Roxanne may have been pissed off because Cindy beat her to it, but I didn’t get a chance to find out for sure, because we were all suddenly aware of flashlights waving around outside and people talking in low voices as they approached the cabin. Roxanne grabbed up a towel, swiped at the cum on her leg and wrapped the towel around herself. She was barely covered when the screen door opened, and Clive Jones came in. I could see other figures dimly in the darkness behind him. Clive had put on some clothes, but the tight T-shirt with a “Sunshine & Health” slogan on it and the baggy white shorts made him look almost as ridiculous as he did in the nude.
“Excellent!” he said. “You’ve apprehended our runaway! I thought he’d come this way.”
“He tried to get us to untie him, Daddy,” Roxanne said. “But we wouldn’t do it.”
I’m sure that the final string of cum hanging from my penis was obvious, but Clive chose to ignore it.
“He probably had some ridiculous story, didn’t he?” he asked, looking around at the other girls.
“We didn’t pay any attention,” Roxanne said. “We knew he was a big lair!”
“Excellent!” Clive said again. “You girls have done very well! I know that I can always count on you, Roxanne.”
Two of Joey’s hoods had come into the cabin now, and they grabbed my arms and led me out. This time, as I left with my erection shriveling away to nothing and my head hanging, I almost felt guilty, as though it were my own fault I’d been caught in this embarrassing situation with a group of teen-age girls. But that feeling changed to simple fear when I remembered where Joey’s boys had been taking me when I escaped.
There were four of them now, if you counted Clive, and the two of them dragging me along held my arms tightly to prevent any more escape attempts. We went back down the shore of the leg toward the camp, but when we got to the path, we headed back toward the campground.
“You get a reprieve, Mr. Diamond,” Clive told me when we were at the chicken house again. “I have persuaded Mr. Balsemo into agreeing that no acts of violence will occur within the precincts of the Church of Cosmic Truth. What he does with you elsewhere is his own business. In the meantime, the plane has departed on another errand, so you will have to wait for other transportation in the morning.”
They tossed me back into the shed and slammed the door behind. I heard the lock snap. There was a candle burning inside, so I could see that Glinda was still a prisoner there, but she had been joined by her buddy Endora, who was sitting on the dirt floor with her head drooping sadly between her knees.
“Here’s one more poor sucker,” Endora said, looking up. “One more sucker you got into trouble, Glinda.”
“Look, I didn’t ask you to try to help me escape,” Glinda said. “I really appreciate that you tried, but I didn’t ask you. No way. And I didn’t ask him, either. If you two got into this mess, it’s not my fault.”
“You should have kept your mouth shut in the first place,” Endora replied.
“Really?” Glinda said. “You think we really should have let them keep using Cosmic Truth to cover up their coke smuggling?”
“Oh, I guess not,” Endora said with a sigh. “But we’re in a big mess now, and I’d like to know what we’re supposed to do.”
“You can start by helping me untie Dan,” Glinda said.
They unfastened my arms, which I could hardly move because they’d been tied for so long. The women rubbed them to help get the circulation back, and before long, they were close to normal. It would take longer for my butt to recover, so I lay on my side when I stretched out on the lone blanket between Glinda and Endora. The air was chilly so they snuggled up against me to keep warm, with me against Glinda’s backside and Endora against mine. When Endora’s rear end got cold, we all turned over so that her bottom was against me. It warmed up quickly.
The naked sandwich was pretty interesting even considering our precarious situation. For a while, I’d have Endora’s huge tits pressing into my back — they covered acres. When we all shifted, the erect nipples of Glinda’s small, firm boobies took their place, which I liked even better. Once a butt man, though, always a butt man, and the best fun was shifting between Endora’s ample buttocks and Glinda’s tight little ass. My erection was making the comeback of the decade after going into retirement in shame after the Girl Scout debacle. I could tell by their shameless little wiggles that my new witch buddies had noticed its arrival, and I was about to suggest some midnight recreation, when we heard the door being unlocked. Joey’s boys were making a habit of showing up at the wrong time. Three or four of them crowded into the shack.
“Your ride got here early, Diamond,” one of them said. “You and the girls are going bye-bye.”
They had brought along three pairs of thumb cuffs, and they fastened our hands behind us and gagged us with handkerchiefs before leading us out of the shack and loading us into the back of a waiting pickup. We sat cross-legged in the back of the pickup, trying to keep from sliding around while it bumped and bounced out of the campground and down the gravel road back toward Highway 395. Another car followed behind us, and its headlights flashed up and down over the faces of the girls. They looked scared to death, and I couldn’t blame them. I felt the same way myself.
When we reached 395, we pulled into a gravel parking lot next to a gas station that was closed for the night. Parked in the lot was a tractor-trailer rig, and even though it was lit only by the headlights of the pickup and the following car, the huge name painted in sprawling gold letters across the side of the red trailer was easy to see. “DUNDEEN,” it read.
My mind works in funny ways, I guess, because despite the tight spot we were in, the first thing that I thought of was the Man From Dundeen, one of the stars in my personal pantheon of limerick greats, along with the Hermit Named Dave, the Young Girl from Cape Cod and that all-time favorite, the Man From Nantucket. The Man From Dundeen is not to be confused with the better-known Man From Dundee. The Man From Dundee was the one who “buggered an ape in a tree,” while the Dundeen guy’s exploits were captured in these immortal lines:
There once was a man from Dundeen
Who invented a sex machine.
Both concave and convex,
It would fit either sex,
And was really no trouble to clean.
I doubted that this trailer with “DUNDEEN” on its side had a sex machine inside, but we were about to find out for sure. They unloaded us from the pickup and walked us over to the truck, and one of them opened the rear doors of the trailer. Most of the interior was packed solid, but there was a fairly large clear space just inside the doors, and we were lifted onto it. You couldn’t see much from the light of the men’s flashlights, but I could make out some kind of apparatus tied against one wall next to the left door. I had enough time before the doors slammed shut and left us in darkness to tell that it probably wasn’t a sex machine.
Nope, the equipment fastened to the wall was something considerably different. It was quite obviously some kind of guillotine.
* * * * * * * * *
NEXT: There’s no business like show business.
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