Mitch

[Sandra B]

81.
For the first few minutes, Alice’s overwhelming feeling was one of relief.  She switched him from one breast to the other until the discomfort had faded into insignificance.  Only then could she begin to enjoy the sensation of his eager mouth suc-king at her nipple.  She looked down at him almost as a mother at her baby, her mouth faintly mimicking that of the boy's.  She felt flooded with motherly tenderness.  Marian and Edith sat opposite watching intently, and speculating on the reaction of their friends when they told them.  They were too discreet to photograph Alice, but those they already had of baby Olivia in her sweet little rubber pants were going to be quite sufficient!  Yulya was in the kitchen making coffee and preparing some food.
“Girls?  Please you come help?  Leave baby to feed.”
The girls, having seen everything they could possibly have hoped for, were happy to comply, especially as they were getting hungry.  So they left Oliver to feed.
He was suc-king more slowly now, eyes closed.  Possibly he was getting drowsy, just like a well-fed infant.  But he had a much greater appetite than an infant, and the session went on past the point where Alice might have expected it to end.  However, she was very comfortable on her soft cushions, despite the weight of the boy lying across her lap, and she felt she could have lain there all day.  It was then she became aware of other feelings mingling with those of affection and tenderness.  As with any nursing mother, the physicality of the bond stimulates a profound sense of closeness, a unity of bodies.  But in this instance, she was feeding, not a baby, but a well-developed young boy – and a young boy with an erection!  She began to feel almost drugged, swirling in a confused mist of motherly tenderness and sexual exhilaration.  She stole a glance at Oliver’s pants, and experienced a sudden thrill of excitement at the sight of his still rigid pen-is stretching the rubber.  He seemed to be sleeping now, his lips no longer suc-king, though still fastened to her nipple.  It fascinated her that he could receive such stimulation from this simple act.  She had an overwhelming desire to touch it – just to feel how hard it was.  He would never notice.  So she reached out very slowly and took the end gently between finger and thumb.
He reacted immediately.  He gave a groan, his whole body tensed, his lips tightened on her breast, and to her horror he was convulsed with orgasm!  She had quickly taken her hand away, but she could see spurts of sperm erupting against the translucent pink rubber.  It only lasted for about a minute, but to Alice it seemed like five.  He never once opened his eyes, and when it was over his head slipped down and he fell into a deep slumber.  Alice was overwhelmed with guilt and shame.  But perhaps…perhaps he had been asleep already – that’s how it had seemed – and would remember nothing.
The others were returning now, quite unaware of what had passed.  Alice replaced her breast, buttoned her blouse, and with Yulya’s help lifted Oliver onto the sofa and covered him with a blanket.
“Let’s go into the kitchen so we don’t disturb him,” said Alice.

He slept for an hour and a half.  He awoke all smiles.  Alice was in agonies about what he might say.  She decided to face the music.
“Hello, Olivia darling,  Did oo have nice sleepies?”
“Yes, thank you, Alice…”  He looked at her affectionately.  “Alice…?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Can I stay being your baby?”
She felt a rush of relief.  “Of course, darling!  You can be my baby forever!”
“Even when you have your own baby?”
“Yes.  I’ll get you twin cots.  You’ll be able to play together.”
“But when your milk is all gone…”
“Then I’ll find you other ladies who have milk.  I have lots of friends who have babies or are going to have babies.  And lots of them have much too much milk…so much, they don’t know what to do with it…”
In reply he said nothing, but merely gave a seraphic smile…

When it was time to leave, he insisted he would lie quietly in his buggy and behave, without any need of restraint.  He was as good as his word.  On the way, he said very little.  But then, while they were waiting at the bus stop, he suddenly looked up at Yulya.
“Yulya?”
“Yes, Olivia?”
“Do you think…”
“Yes?”
“Do you think Miss Shirley would let me be baby Olivia all the time?”
“All the time?”
“Yes.  Be like a real baby, with nappies and pants and bibs and everything…”
“Baby Olivia must ask Miss Shirley herself.  Miss Shirley decide.  If baby good, then…maybe.”
“’Cos Alice said there are other ladies that need babies, too.”
But now the bus had arrived, and the conversation lapsed.  As they went along, Yulya glanced over at the boy-baby on the opposite seat.  She was puzzled, but pleased.  And she was sure Shirley would be pleased too.

[Sandra B]

82.
It was Tracey came up with the idea.
“Do you remember what Mitch told us, about those two boys, and what they did to them at that place of his?”
“Can’t forget it,” grinned Penny.
Tracey looked at her friends with an evil, meaningful stare.
“You’re not suggesting…?”
“Why not?”
“Trace, that would be so cool!” cried Marcella.
“Yeah,” said Marcia.  “And we can do it if we want.  We can do whatever we want with them, right?  In any case, I think they’re already in love.  They’d have to be, to play with each other like that.”
“She’s right,” said Penny,.  “It’s like, Bobby’s the boy, and Michael’s the girl, don’t you think?”
“If they’re gay, they’re both boys,” countered Tracey.
“Yes, true.  But even in same-sex relationships there’s a dominant one and a submissive one, isn't there?  It seems to me like Bobby’s the dominant one.  Trace, remember when they were doing it?  Bobby was the one who took the lead.  Offered Michael his knife and all that.”
“Yes, you’re right.  Like Michael was a girl and he was seducing her.”
“Right.”
“Hey, girls!” broke in Marcella.  “We’re going into town this morning, right?  Let’s see if we can find Michael a cheap dress!”
“fuc-k, Marcella, that’s brilliant!  And maybe panties or something.”
“And we’ll give him some makeup!”
“Listen.  Let’s tell Michael he has to be here at eight-thirty.  Then we can get him ready.  Then we can see Bobby’s reaction…”
They dissolved in screams of laughter…

[Sandra B]

83.
On the way into town they discussed what girl size Michael was.  They settled on a twelve, depending on the style.  Marcia suggested they have a look in the charity shops as well, as they had limited money.  And that proved to be the answer. 
It was the third charity shop they went into.  Some teenager must have disposed of her tween wardrobe.  Penny suggested the teenager’s mother, reluctant to accept her daughter growing up, had been encouraging her to hang onto her childish clothes, until the daughter finally rebelled.  It was certainly old-fashioned, juvenile stuff.  Some of the clothes would have been on the skimpy side for Michael, but the girls were certainly not going to worry about that.  They simply looked at things that had a bit of give in them.  They found a cute little cotton dress with short puff sleeves elasticated at the cuff, a broad elasticated waistband, and a short flared skirt.  It had lots of busy flowers in every colour imaginable on a white background, with a narrow green hem.
“Perfect,” said Tracey.  “I can just see Michael in that.  He’s got nice legs, actually.  Don’t you think?”
“Maybe.  Anyway, we’ll get to see a lot of them in that,” replied Marcia.  “And so will Bobby.”
“He’ll need panties,” said Marcella.  “We can get him a pack.”
“And socks.”
“Look, let’s take some of these bangles as well,” said Tracey, picking up a little ring of elasticated pink plastic hearts.  They’re very cheap.  And there are bunches, too…”
“And look at these butterfly hairclips!” cried Penny.  “And that choker!  And there’s some really naff plastic clip-ons!”

They emerged with their loot in a second-hand carrier bag.  Next they visited a department store, and bought the most juvenile panties they could find; a pack of five, different pastel colours – pink, blue, yellow, mauve and green, with contrasting trims and a different cartoon character on the front of each – Barbie, Snow White, Alice, and so on – and a pack of pastel ankle socks with lacy tops.  Then they went for coffee, examined their purchases with much hilarity, and afterwards headed back to camp.  Marcella went and sought out Michael.  He had obviously had the bad news from Bobby, because he turned white when he saw her approaching..
“Oh, M-Marcella,” he gulped.  “H-how are you…?  I…”
“You’ve been told what to do, I presume.  We want you there at eight-thirty.  Understand?”
“E-eight-th…”
“Yes.  Eight-thirty.  And Bobby at nine.  Get it right, or else.  Oh, and bring your best trainers with you.”  She waved her phone, turned, and walked away, leaving him standing there like a frightened rabbit.

All credit to him.  He turned up punctual to the second.  He found the girls sitting cross-legged around the edges of the tent.  In the middle, laid out on a double sleeping bag, was his new ensemble, topped off with a pair of red-trimmed, mauve, Snow White panties and mauve socks.
Penny addressed him.  “Right.  You have five minutes.  No longer.  Get those clothes off – all of them - and get these on.  Everything, understand?  Panties, socks, everything.  And put on your best trainers.”  Then she added, with a mocking smile, “We’ll wait outside.  We would hate to embarrass you in any way!”
He must have been scared to death.  After only three minutes he called them.
“I-I’m changed…”
They went back in.  The dress fitted quite nicely, in fact, though the skirt was a little short.  He seemed to be aware of it, holding them hem down to cover his panties.  Marcella gathered up his boy clothes, thrust them into a carrier, and put them outside.  Penny and Tracey sat him down and helped him with his bangles, choker, earrings and hairclips, while Marcia knelt down and began to paint his nails.
“Keep your hands still, now, Michael.  There, done.  Wave them about a little to help them dry.  Now I’m going to do your face.  A little mascara – ooh, you look quite glamorous already – eye shadow to match your panties…yes…lovely…what about mauve lip gloss?  Are you up for that?  Let me see…oh, yes – it actually suits you quite well!  Sit still.  I’m nearly done.  Just a touch of perfume and you’ll be ready…”
She stood up.  “What do you think, girls?”
“He’s gorgeous!”
“Bobby’s going to fall head over heels for you, Michael.”
“He’ll have to call you Michaela.  Here, look in the mirror.”
Poor Michael stared at himself in horror.  He was sitting bolt upright on the sleeping bag, hands on thighs gripping the hem of his dress, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he tried to get used to the sensation of wearing lipstick.
“Please don’t tell anyone…”
“We won’t, provided you behave.  But we’ll have a few photos, if you don’t mind.  Outside.”
“What?”
“Outside,” repeated Marcella.  “We’re next to the hedge.  No-one’s going to see, if we’re quick.  Come on.”
Desperate to get the photo session over, he posed nicely to order, and they got some lovely snaps, albeit the smile they demanded sometimes looked a bit forced.  His relief at being ordered back inside the tent was palpable.  The girls remained outside, to wait for Bobby.  Penny bent down and whispered to Michael through the flap.
“He should be here any minute, Michael.  What a lovely surprise he’s going to get!  Cheer up, darling.  Give him a nice welcoming smile, won’t you?” 

[Sandra B]

84.
Oliver was asleep again by the time Yulya pushed his buggy into the offices of P & S.  Shirley was waiting to welcome them back.
“I hear it was quite a success.  Alice rang me just after you left.”
“He so good!  And tell me he want be a baby all time!”
“Really?”
“Yes, Miss Shirley.  Maybe later he change mind, but…”
“If he does, it’ll probably be too late,” she whispered.  “His mother rang me today to ask if I’d take him on full-time.  Apparently she has her hands full as it is.  Would you take him and put him in his cot, please?  Put a nappy on him and lock the lid.  Then come back to my office.  We have other matters to discuss.”

When she returned, Yulya found Shirley and Mandy waiting for her.
“As to Oliver, Yulya, we can start the full course straight away.  Lock his willy up nice and tight, surround him with baby things, make sure he has a wardrobe full of baby clothes – with plenty of nice colourful plastic and rubber pants.  Lots of warm milk, a selection of different-sized pacifiers, baby mobiles and music.  Change him twice a day.  I’ll arrange regular visits to nursing mothers – that’s the best thing to keep him docile – and wear your nurse’s costume to attend to him.  He’ll like that.  After a month or two he should be fully conditioned and we can start renting him out as a surrogate.  But we have other matters to attend to.  Tomorrow we have two new students.  I haven’t met them yet, but I have the paperwork here.  Mandy.  You’ve read the notes.  Remind me.”
“Yes, I have.  Right.  First, Luke.  Full name, Luke Adam Peters.  Age thirteen.  Hobbies, according to him, and I quote, “hanging out, playing Manhunt” – whatever that is – “screwing bitches”.  According to his mother, “most of the time he sits up in his room playing some awful loud computer game with his friend, or watching porn, swears at me and treats me like his slave”.  Second – and this is the “friend” aforementioned – Max Alexander Dinsford, also age thirteen, whose interests include “chillin’, playing Manhunt” – no surprise there – and “bangin’ my gf”!  According to his mother, he bullies the younger kids at school – for which she is always being called in – and beats on his kid sister.  The mothers came in together.  They said it was a last resort.  They don’t care what we do even if it’s only to take them away and separate them for a while, why they try and get their lives back.”
Yulya had been listening open-mouthed.
“Miss Shirley?  They need jail time, not P & S.  They out of control.”
“They’ll be a challenge, to be sure.”
“How would we even get them here?” said Mandy.
“Oh, I’ve taken care of that.  They’re coming in next Monday.”
“What?”
“Yes.  They’re under the impression we’re some sort of luxury youth club slash hotel.  I worked it all out with their mums.  Supposedly we offer families a break from each other.  We have rooms equipped with big plasma screens, gaming consoles, four hundred megabyte broadband, room service, and so on.  We charge up to three hundred a day.  There are rumours of soft drugs.  “P & S” stands for “Play and Sleep”.
“But once they’re here – they’ll realise…” said Mandy, looking alarmed.
“Not straight away.  Yulya, you will put on your sexiest outfit and conduct them to the games room, sit them on the sofa in front of our one big screen, show them the games controller, and bring them drinks.  The drinks will be spiked.  I’ll take it from there.
“Okay…” said Mandy, slowly.  “So what’s the plan?  Pacification can only be temporary.  And when we eventually release them…”
“Let me worry about that.  There are forms of permanent coercion, you know.  These are exactly the hard cases we always talked about subduing.  Now’s our chance to prove we can do it…”

[Sandra B]

85.
Back in Devon, Bobby was making his miserable way towards the girls’ tent, hugging the hedge in an attempt not to be noticed by any of the other boys.  He had hinted to them he had an assignation with some “cool” girl from another troop, which was not a great idea as it turned out, because it just piqued their curiosity.  So now he had to sneak along in the twilight bent double to avoid being recognised.  Arriving at the girls tent, he dropped to he knees and crawled through the unzipped flap.
Inside there were two battery lanterns hanging from the two corners.  Two girls sat cross-legged against each side of the tent, and in the middle sat Michael, obviously distressed, covered with an open sleeping bag which he was clutching to his throat, like a shy girl caught naked from the shower.  Something gleamed in his mop of black hair, and on his ears, and his face looked weird, but for a moment Bobby didn’t register why.  The air was filled with the smell of cheap perfume.
“Well done, Bobby,” smirked Marcella.  “Right on time, just like Michael.  I never had you two pegged for being punctual.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here.  So what do you want with me?” he said impatiently, his freckly face colouring up with annoyance.
“Us?” said Penny, with mock surprise.  “We don’t want nothing, Bobby.  We’re just observers.  But maybe your friend here would like some attention.  Show him, Michaela.”
Hands trembling, Michael slowly pulled the sleeping bag to one side.  Bobby’s mouth fell open.  The dress, the panties peeping out, the eyelashes, the mauve lips, the bangles, choker…everything!
“Wha…  W-why…?”
“Don’t you like your girlfriend’s new outfit, Bobby?  She got all dolled up specially for you.  She even put on her new scent.  At least tell her how pretty she looks,” said Tracey, coaxingly.
“They made me, Bobby,” blurted Michael.  “They’ve got my phone.  They threatened to send that film to all my contacts!”
“Yes.  And now we’ll have your phone too, Bobby,” said Marcia.
“No way!”
“Okay.  We’ll go ahead and do what we said.  I’m sure you’ve got loads of the same friends…”
“No!  Don’t, all right?  Just don’t.  What do you want?  Do you have a dress for me, too?”
“Dress for you…?”  Penny laughed out load.  “Don’t you get it?  You’re the boy.  Michael’s the girl.  Michael – Michaela – is your girlfriend.”
“Aren’t you going to give her a kiss?” said Marcella, archly.
Bobby stared at them in horror.
“Go on,” said Marcella.  “Can’t you see she’s gagging for it?”
“N-no…” he said, weakly.
“Oh, you are, little boy,” said Penny, firmly.  “If your lips aren’t on his in ten seconds, I touch this.”
She held up Michael’s phone.  She wasn’t joking.  Her finger hovered over “send to all”.  Bobby panicked.
“All right.  Don’t, okay.  I’ll do it.”
“But…” began Michael.
“Shut up, idiot.  We don’t have no choice, do we?”
“Lie down, Michael,” instructed Marcia.  “Bobby, lie by his side.”
The boys complied.
“That’s better.  Much cosier.  Come on, cuddle up.  Now kiss him, for goodness’ sake.  We’re not going to wait any longer.”
Bobby leant over, shut his eyes, and placed his lips on Michael’s chin.
“Is that how you kiss a girl, Bobby?” laughed Tracey.  “No wonder you can’t keep your girlfriends.”  Then she became serious.  “Open your eyes, and kiss him on the lips.  Not like that!  Passionately!  Get your tongue in his mouth.  Go on.  Michael, respond.  I want to see those tongues delving deep.  Deep, I said!  That’s better.  And hold each other.  Closer!”
Marcella took over the role of  instructress.  “Bobby…  No, don’t you dare stop smooching!  Bobby.  Get on top of him.  No, right on top.  Yes, like that.  Now press your coc-k against his.  Do it!  Keep doing it.  Keep doing it and keep kissing, just like that.  You know what’ll happen if you stop.  That’s right.  She’s your girlfriend, Bobby.  Michaela’s your girlfriend.  You love her passionately.  You can’t wait to…  Now you’re getting the hang of it…”
They kept the boys at it for several minutes, until Marcella interrupted them.
“Right.  Bobby?  Off.  Lie by her side again.  Now…”
She leant forward and placed her hand on the front of Bobby’s shorts.  “Aha!”  Then she checked Michael’s panties.  “Just as I thought.  You’ve both got huge erections.”
“No, I…” began Bobby.
“Look at it!  It’s almost bursting the rubber.  Michaela?  Unzip Bobby’s shorts, please.”
“What?”
“You heard,” she said wearily.  “You’re going to do it, so stop prevaricating and just get on with it – unless you want us to post your cute video out of sheer frustration.  So?  What is it to be?”
“Sorry Bobby.  I don’t have no choice, do I?” 
He reached down and began to unzip.  The zip was only half way down when Bobby’s tumescent boyhood sprang out, quivering, and glistening with his juices.
The girls looked at each other with delight.
“Bobby!” cried Penny.  “You poor thing!  Michaela?  I think your boyfriend needs some relief.  Please do your duty at once.  Go on!”
Bobby’s cheeks were red with arousal.  Penny calculated his lust was beginning to overcome his embarrassment.  It seemed she may have been right.
“Yeah, Mike…I mean Michaela.  Yeah…like, I’m sorry, mate, but if we don’t do what they say…we’re gonna be in trouble, aren’t we?”
Michael hesitated, but seeing Penny pick up his phone again, he gave a sigh, reached down, and took his friend’s stiff member in one hand.
“Not like that!” cried Penny, in disgust.  “Properly!  With your mouth!”
Michael recoiled.  “No!  I can't!  Tell them, Bobby!”
But, oddly, Bobby didn’t seem quite so revolted by the idea.
“Mike…  You know, we just have to do what they say.  I’m really sorry, but…  it looks like they’ve got us by the short and curlies…”  (Possibly an unfortunate choice of phrase in the circ-umstances, which didn’t help to mollify his friend.)
Tracey winked at Marcia.  “He’s right, Michael.  You really don’t have a choice.”
“Obviously I’m not going to enjoy having you suc-king on…doing that, I mean,” added Bobby.  He paused, and touched his pen-is, as if imagining what it was going to feel like in Michael’s mouth.  “No, not at all…  But there’s nothing we can do…” 
His member didn’t seem to be suffering any qualms, however, being if anything even harder than before, and lubricating freely.  And as Michael slid down the sleeping bag until his mouth was aligned with its head, Bobby placed a comforting hand in his friends hair, gently bit his lip, and drew in a deep breath of anticipation…

[Sandra B]

86.
The girls had made a pact that their little secret should be kept strictly between themselves.  Apart from anything else, they wanted to retain total control of the boys, at least till they had collected some interesting footage or had achieved the ultimate goal of their experiment – to make them a genuine item.  However, they were predictably unable to completely disguise that something was going on.  One of their best friends, Janice, had originally been supposed to be in their tent.  But Moira Sullivan had quashed this plan, and imposed a maximum of four girls per tent, since a couple of the tents had only three occupants.  They had drawn lots, and Janice had lost.  She often joined her friends for meals and activities, but found them strangely reticent and reserved in her company.  So when Tracey had asked if she could borrow her phone for the evening – she had a brand new model about three upgrades ahead of any her friends had – she had  - justifiably – taken umbrage.
“What do you want it for?”
“Er…nothing special – you know, we just wanted to, er, film, er, Marcia doing her yoga…”
“Why don’t you use your own phone?  It would be fine for that.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess… Yeah, I’ll use my own…”
“Hang on a minute, Trace.  I know there’s something going on.  Why are you guys excluding me?  Have I done something wrong, or what?”
“No, no, course not, Janice.  It’s just…well, I’m sworn to secrecy…”
“On really?  You’ve got secrets from me?  Since when?  Since when am I out in the cold?  What’s up with you?  I’ve been kicked out of the tent, and now you’re kicking me out of the group.”
“It’s…difficult…”
“It’s difficult for me, too.  Either you tell me right now what’s going on, or we might as well say goodbye.”
Tracey sighed.  “All right.  But you mustn’t breathe a word to anyone.”
“As if I would.  Well?”
“Okay.  You know Michael?”
“Yes.”
“And you know Bobby?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Well…”  And she unfolded the whole story, Janice’s eyes widening with each new revelation.  “But when you see them you mustn’t let on you know – not even with a look or anything.  Keep this just between us.”
“Don’t worry, Tracey.  Now at last I understand.  Thank you.  Here, take my phone.  Leave the film on it, all right?  I’ll get a flash drive tomorrow and download it to that, then delete the original.  We don’t want anyone finding it.”
“Agreed.  I’ll tell the others you’re in on things now.”
“Yes, do.”

And that is how the boys’ first real date got recorded in high-definition video.  Up to the point they were lying side by side, the phone was clipped to the inner corner of the tent above Michael’s feet.  But when things started hotting up, Tracey retrieved it in order to get a more intimate record of proceedings.

Michael was still reluctant to take the plunge.  Tracey zoomed onto his face, his frown of distaste.  But Bobby made up his mind for him, pushing his fingers deeper into Michael’s hair and gently coaxing his mouth towards the glistening tip of his pen-is.  Michael opened his mouth to object, but Bobby simply tightened his grip on his friend’s hair, and seized his chance, pushing his coc-k between his lips.  Michael emitted a indignant squeak of protest, but no way was Bobby letting him off now – his warm, wet mouth felt much too good.  He grunted with satisfaction, placed his other hand on the top of his friend’s head, and began a gentle rhythmic thrusting, controlling his movements and politely resisting the temptation to plunge his erection down Michael’s throat.  The sensation of Michael’s tongue nuzzling the sensitive underside of the glans was so arousing that he had to slow his movements, and even pause now and then.  But his solicitude was rewarded, for after a few minutes he perceived Michael responding, bobbing his head independently, emitting little muffled moans of pleasure, and using the tip of his tongue to explore the cleft beneath the head.
The girls watched in silence, with rapt attention, as the boys' sexual instincts slowly overcame their wonted shyness.  After a while, Michael slid one hand under Bobby’s waist, and the other over his flank, gripping his belt.  Bobby loosened his grip on his friend's hair, and instead began softly to stroke his head.  Hanging on tight to the belt, Michael began to suc-k and pull on the swollen coc-k in an ecstasy of desire, rotating his lips so the head probed every part of his mouth, moaning and squirming.  He could feel Bobby’s juices flowing freely into his mouth, and he swallowed them with relish.  His own erect pen-is had escaped from his Snow White panties, and he was masturbating by thrusting it back and forth between Bobby’s ankles, now slippery with his juices.  Tracey stood up to get a good shot of the climax which she knew couldn’t be far away.
The girls thought it remarkable that Michael, in his heighted state of arousal, seemed to have lost all his earlier reticence.  But his arousal itself was at least in part due to his feelings for Bobby.  As it dawned on him that, with his friend’s juicy prick in his mouth and at the mercy of his probing tongue and nibbling teeth, he could actually drive him half mad with pleasure, he forgot about himself entirely, and gave all his attention to Bobby's pleasure.  The truth was, he loved Bobby more than he had ever admitted, and now he felt he had the opportunity to forge a powerful and lasting bond with him.  To this end, he kept Bobby on the edge of orgasm for as long as he could, knowing that the final climax would be all the more intense as a result.  But finally, feeling himself at the tipping point, and not wanting to pre-empt his friend, he closed his teeth gently about the throbbing shaft, and worked the tip of his tongue vigorously up and down the underside of the glans.  Bobby’s reaction was immediate.  One desperate little cry of surprise, and then next instant his hot sperm was pumping into Michael’s mouth.  Michael held the spasming boy tightly by either side of his belt, determined the jerking pen-is should not escape him, and tried to continue his ministrations at the same time as gulping down the sweet, slimy wads of spunk.  The feeling of it sliding down his throat triggered his own orgasm, and Bobby, in a haze of ecstasy, became vaguely aware of his ankles and calves being spattered with something warm and sticky.

Bobby had been somewhat frustrated since the expedition with Michael, lying in his sleeping bag thinking about the things they had done, and now all his pent-up secretions finally had the chance to escape.  There was so much, in fact, that Michael was quite unable to swallow it all, and it burst from his lips, splashing the front of his dress, Bobby’s shorts, and the sleeping bag.  It was the most intense orgasm Bobby had ever experienced – at one point he thought he was going to faint with pleasure - and as it slowly subsided he became overwhelmed with a such a wave of affection for his friend, that he slid down to where he lay, eyes closed, in a sticky patch of semen, took his face in his hands, and kissed him gratefully on the lips.
The girls were in shock, but they also shared an unspoken sense of pride, for they had not only been entertained, but they had proved that there was real affection between the two boys, which could perhaps now flourish without further unnecessary shyness or restraint.  In short, they felt their little experiment had been a most successful exercise in emotional and sexual therapy, as well as just the first move in a game which they could prolong ad infinitum.

[sarahpenguin]

Hmmmm. The boys in camp should be in chastity, have catheters, and locked in massive cloth diapers thick enough to hold 24/7 long without leaking learning to not be constanly masterbating miscreants as though they were grownups. Should be how to behave like a good sissy baby infant. Look pretty and babble baby nonsense like you are, happily shaking  your baby rattle and nurseing on your baby  pacifier because every baby with both items is a happy baby so you muwst 6happy babbling through your pacifier of baby nonsense shaking it endlessly. :)