Trouble Plus Trouble. - 2. Chapter 2

Double The Trouble Chapter 2.

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"It's a special place Andy knows. Luckily he asked me first because I know you'd have said you were too busy to be away all weekend."

"All weekend? But I am. I've got a novel to read and a maths assignment to finish."

"Take them with you then."

"What is this place?"

A look of conspiracy passed between them and it was his mum who answered again.

"A surprise. Andy will tell you when he's ready."

"But? ...How will I know what I need?"

"Andy will tell you. He's responsible till ten o'clock tomorrow night when I expect you home."

Rather mystified, and thinking about his mum's unexpected collusion, Peter went to his room where demands to know what was going on were only met with a headlock and a few soft skull-bruisers.

"I'm not ready to tell you yet, so behave yourself and do what your mummy tells you."

Oh no! Now Peter knew he was going to hear that for the rest of the weekend. A determined struggle led to him being dumped on his bed, sat on, and tickled till his mum looked in to see what all screeching was about.

"Oh, is that all. It sounded like someone was being murdered."

She disappeared and for another couple of minutes Andy sat there threatening more tickles and making Peter promise to get everything without any fuss. Collecting everything didn't take long and after scoffing down a salad roll and some casserole his mum had heated, Andy's wagon was heading down the road.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

The first clue, which only served to make things more intriguing, was the two rucksacks Marty carted out when they pulled up and tooted the horn. Peter jumped out and made an effort while Marty loaded the packs in the back of the wagon.

"Marty, what's the name of this place we're going? Andy's playing games and won't tell me."

"Won't he? Well, fancy that. I've forgotten too."

So that wasn't going to work. Marty and Andy made their usual friendly greeting of rude name-calling and commenting how weak and retarded each other was, then they headed off with Peter sitting between them. After ten or eleven kilometres they crossed a bridge and drove into a churchyard.

A church?

Andy laughed.

"We have to pray for you Peter to give you strength to survive."

There was no praying of course and Andy explained that the minister was a friend of his family and would keep an eye on the wagon. The rucksacks were taken out and Peter's things packed along with a pile of other stuff. Peter's curiosity was totally engaged now as they shouldered the packs, left the churchyard and started walking along a track beside the river. They passed several houses, followed beside the river through a series of paddocks for about a kilometre then dropped to a sandy bank with the water rippling past. Peter thought it looked great and from the remains of several camp-fires thought this must be where they were stopping. It wasn't though. Andy and Marty took their shoes off, waded to the other side and waited for Peter to catch up before heading straight into the scrub. Occasionally they had to detour round thick clumps of vegetation but Andy and Marty made their way steadily on, all the time laughing at Peter's concerns about getting lost.

"You can't get lost Peter. You'll see."

The terrain dropped away and they scrambled down a steep slope to the river again. After a welcome drink they headed upstream for another quarter of an hour. Marty and Andy started yelling and whistling their excitement and left Peter behind in a race to reach a large sandbar. They dumped their packs and as Peter approached were throwing off their clothes, and with more yelling they raced for the water in their jocks.

Peter wondered what to do. Underneath his jeans he was wearing boxers but he knew they'd be useless. In Marty's pool he'd spent half the time holding them and hitching them up, so he opened his pack and quickly climbed into his swimming shorts. Jeez. What was going to happen now? He could see Andy and Marty grinning as they waited for him.

"Come on you skinny little wimp. The water's great."

Marty called him a wimp all the time, but since he called Andy pea-balls and limp-dick or any of a dozen other similar things, it meant nothing except that he was in the mood for mucking round. Peter went slowly, till they got impatient and started trying to dump each other, before making his own way into the water. Wow, it really was great. Even with his body hot from the hiking it didn't feel cold, just right, and for a minute he enjoyed the pleasure of the water against his skin. It didn't last though because Marty, having managed to push Andy under, looked for a new victim. Peter saw it coming and tried to escape but of course Andy joined the chase and in moments he was caught. Andy's arms wrapped from behind and he was held helpless while Marty splashed him from the front.

Dumped. Dragged up and held by Marty this time, while Andy did the splashing.

Dumped again, then nearly pulled in half when Marty grabbed his legs and used his body for a tug-of-war with Andy. This ended when Marty suddenly changed his tugging to pushing. Andy, caught by surprise, fell over backwards and landed underwater with the other two on top of him. Laughing with enjoyment the trio made their way back to the packs and flopped onto the soft sand.

"How do you like our special place wimp?"

Peter thought it was terrific. He'd only had enough time to give a quick look at the surroundings, but the clear water and clean sand was a great start. His eyes moved to the rocky outcrop and sheer walls on the other side, up the river to a wide and deep looking stretch of water, then back to Marty.

"It's great. Is this where we're staying?"

"Yeah. Well it's our base anyway. We'll go exploring as long as you follow the rules."

Rules? Peter wondered what that could mean, but didn't find out because Andy jumped up and pulled a package out of his rucksack.

"Come on. It's time for a snack and we have to eat this now."

He led the way to a shady spot and sat on a fallen log.

"This better be good Peter. Or your mum gets fired."

Peter saw, when the foil wrapping was removed, that it was some of his mum's home-made meatballs.

"What are they? Horse turds?"

Marty's remark sent them both into laughter and then again when they saw Peter rolling his eyes.

"They're delicious. I'll eat your share if you don't want it."

"Gross!"

He might have said gross, but once Marty started eating there were no offers to give any away. When the food was gone they returned to the rucksacks and after a short conference to decide the best position, they spent half an hour setting up their camp, pitching the tent and organising their gear. Uh oh. Andy and Marty had those funny grins on their faces. Something was going to happen.

"Grab your old runners Peter. We're going exploring."

Peter had wondered why he had to bring old runners. He took them from his pack then turned round to a sight he couldn't believe. Andy and Marty had stripped their jocks off and were sitting, nude, tying their shoe laces. He froze in panic, not knowing what to do.

"Hey skinny. Are you shy or what?"

Peter didn't answer but sat down and pulled the runners on. He knew he was meant to strip. Somehow he could tell it was one of the rules. To his puzzlement they didn't say a thing and for the next two hours they explored down the river. It was certainly strange having two naked guys wandering along next to him.

At the start he couldn't help glancing at them but soon they were all enjoying themselves so much it became a background thing in his mind. Sometimes they'd have to swim where the water was deep, sometimes they could wade, and eventually they reached a section where the river narrowed and sped up. This was the place Marty and Andy were aiming for and they spent the bulk of their time there. The water flow wasn't quite fast enough to be called rapids but all you had to do was float and it carried you along. The section went for about 150 metres and they floated through it three times before heading back to the camp.

Every now and again there'd be a bout of wrestling or a splashing contest, and though he always got the worst of it Peter still enjoyed himself. He learnt to be very wary while floating with the current because Andy and Marty would drift close and shove him under when he wasn't expecting it. At least he could do this back as long as he was quick to get out of reach.

Back at the camp Andy and Marty spread a couple of ground-sheets and relaxed. Peter got his novel out and started to read but after the hiking and activity it didn't take long to drift off to sleep. He woke up when someone sat on him. It was Andy. In the next instant Marty sat behind his head, grabbed his wrists and held them pinned to the ground in the surrender position. Oh God. They were both grinning with some kind of intention and Peter squirmed and squawked when Andy started poking him in the stomach.

"So shrimp. When are you going to join in with our rules?"

"What rules? No one made any rules."

Andy laughed and started a nipple nauger.

"You know what we mean. When are you going to lose the shorts?"

"Do I have to?"

Andy laughed again and looked Marty.

"Yep, we're giving you a treatment every half-hour till you do."

"What if I don't want to? You can't make me."

"Well you'll have to tell us why then."

He gave a twist, causing a screech, and jabbed, making Peter tense his stomach muscles as tightly as he could, then waited expectantly.

"Andy, I don't want you to laugh at me."

"Laugh? Who's going to laugh? Marty will, but you know he's just stirring."

"They used to at my old school."

Andy was looking puzzled now.

"Is there something wrong?"

Peter sensed that Andy was starting to worry he might be asking questions he shouldn't.

"Haven't you got any balls?"

Andy almost looked shocked that Marty had said this but it made Peter laugh.

"Let me up then and I'll follow your rule."

Andy jumped up and Marty let go of Peter's hands. Peter really wished he'd done this before, because now he'd made so much fuss it had become a big deal and they'd be watching closely. With the color rising in his cheeks and watching Andy and Marty for their reaction, he undid the cord on his shorts and stepped out of them.

"Hell, Peter! No one's going to laugh. That's for sure. The whole swim team's going to be jealous."

He did laugh, but it was at Marty.

"Hey. Guess who's going to be called shrimp from now on?"

Marty was no shrimp and Andy was slightly bigger, but Peter was bigger still and with his shorter, slim build the effect was to make him look enormous. Peter hated it and wished he could be a more normal size. He'd heard all the jokes and teasing which emphasised that bigger was better, but all it had brought him at his last school was ridicule and a nickname of Donkey-Dick.

Now, with Andy and Marty staring at him, he was starting to feel uncomfortable so he rushed to the water and dived in. Andy and Marty left him to it and went searching for firewood. An hour and a half later Andy and Marty were sitting near the small camp-fire they'd lit on the sand near the water, giving lots of advice while Peter cleaned up after cooking the food for their meal. He didn't mind doing it and now they were stirring him because it was further proof that there was something wrong with him.

"What we going to do with him Marty? It's unnatural not to try and get out of cleaning up."

"Yeah, but it's all right while he's with us. It means we don't have to. Of course he didn't collect any firewood so it's his job anyway."

The sky was just starting to darken when Peter sat down next to them to watch the glowing coals. He'd never camped like this before and he decided he really liked it. He was feeling very strange about being nude, but at the same time kind of pleased because it made him feel like he was fitting in with Andy and Marty. They'd dared each other to strip off the first time they'd explored here and each time since then the rule had got stronger. They'd never seen anyone else in here, which was a relief to Peter, but they both said they didn't care anyway.

Slap! Peter whacked his leg as something stung him. He looked down and saw a small smear of blood and the mangled remains of a mosquito.

Slap! Marty hit himself on the arm.

Andy laughed at them both but a moment later when he did the same to his neck they decided to retreat to the tent with its mesh protection on the inner door. Evidently the mozzies would disappear when it got fully dark. Peter lay on his stomach between Andy and Marty, looking out through the fly. He felt all strange again because the size of the tent meant they were so close to each other.

They talked for a while and Peter found out that tomorrow they'd be exploring upstream. It sounded interesting too because they kept talking about a waterfall. Marty climbed out of the tent saying he wanted some stuff from his pack and came back cursing about another mosquito bite and telling Andy off for not bringing any anti-bug juice. As soon as the fly was closed Peter saw those grins appear.

Oh no. Stuff was about to happen.

"What?"

They didn't say anything but in a couple of seconds had Peter flat on his back and completely helpless.

"Time to pay up Peter."

"What did I do now?"

"I don't know. What did he do Andy?"

"Um. ...Broke our rule when we went down the river."

"Yeah. That's bad. How's he going to pay for it?"

"I know the perfect way."

Peter liked it at home when Andy wrestled him and gave him the friendly punishments he was always making up, but lying on his back totally nude and helpless with Andy sitting on his thighs made him feel very strange.

"No! No! Please Andy. Don't!"

Protests meant as much as they usually did, which was absolutely nothing, and for a couple of minutes he writhed, bucked, wriggled and laughed as Andy gave him a tickle torture. They stopped and let Peter regain some breath while they swapped positions to let Marty have a turn in the action seat.

"Where's the best place Andy?"

"Man! Go for his bellybutton. It’s his secret place. He freaks."

Oh my God. Surely not. Marty's finger reached to the deep innie and started jiggling around. Peter jerked in panic as he laughed helplessly from the other hand working away at his sides, stomach and armpits. A different feeling started to develop in his bellybutton. The tickle was still there but a warm feeling started to build as well, which sent tingles through him. There was nothing he could do about it. His protests only made Marty keep going and the laughter he couldn't stop hid the changed tone of his pleas. It didn't take Marty long to stop though, because Peter's response quickly became evident. Fearfully, Peter watched Marty's face. He saw the eyes glance down, widen, and after a couple of seconds, light up with humor.

"Man! Look Andy. He's a grower."

Turning his head back, Peter saw the same amusement on Andy's features.

"Holy hell! What a bone!"

Peter's face was totally flaming now and he tried to turn on his stomach. Marty and Andy weren't having that though and he was held in place while they looked and started to discuss it.

"Monumental!"

"It leaves yours way behind Andy."

"I think it's his bellybutton that sets it off."

"Is it very hard?"

In total disbelief Peter felt his three-quarter hard penis get checked out by Marty.

"Pretty good. I think it's got more to go though."

"Tickle his bellybutton again and see what happens."

"No, I don't need to. Jeez! It’s really pumping. Hell! Feel this. It's like steel."

Peter closed his eyes. He didn't know why. The feeling when Andy took hold of him was unbelievable and he knew he wouldn't be soft for ages.

"Andy. You'd better let go. I think you've freaked him out."

"Me? You, you mean."

All the pressure went off and when Marty moved to the side Peter flipped onto his stomach. His eyes automatically opened and darted from Marty to Andy to see what they were thinking. All he could see was their big grins. Peter's mind was whirling. Everything had happened so quickly and when he'd started getting hard he thought they'd be grossed out, but instead they seemed to be acting as if they were proud of him. The relief from scrutiny was very short lived.

"Come on Peter. Turn over or we'll start tickling again."

"Yeah, you've got nothing to be shy about. Show us you're a man."

They both thought that was very clever and while they were laughing Peter turned over. He might as well escape the tickling.

"Wow! That is so good. Look at the head on it. He's even better than Philips. He'll be king of the swim team."

"And much randier too. Look how easy he turned on."

"Yeah, how randy are you Peter?"

Peter just looked at him. He couldn't believe how different these guys were to his old school, where no one would dream of talking like this. When he didn't answer, Andy grabbed him in a headlock and threatened more treatment.

"I don't know. What do you mean?"

Tell us how often you have a wank."

Peter couldn't see how to get out of answering this but he tried anyway.

"Andy, that's private stuff. You wouldn't tell people that. It's not fair."

"Twice a day. And Marty’s a oncer."

So much for that argument. It totally backfired and Peter realised he'd trapped himself into owning up.

"Well. ...Um. About twice a day."

"About? What does that mean?"

Not again. It felt like he was trapping himself every time he opened his mouth.

"Um. ...Sometimes it's more."

Marty gave a hoot and Andy whacked Peter on the arm.

"You goer Peter. You goer!"

"He's a goer and a grower. Man, he must have busy juice factories."

Juice factories? It took Peter a second to realise Marty was talking about his balls and his embarrassment rose as they came under close scrutiny. Without any warning Marty moved away from Peter and dived on Andy. There was a brief struggle, which made Peter worry that the tent might get knocked down and then Andy was the one being held in a headlock. His efforts to get free quickly subsided when it was obvious he had no chance, and his energy changed to calling Marty all sorts of crude names. This was a pattern they'd been following all afternoon and Peter understood well that it was one of their ways of enjoying themselves.

"Let me go you shrimpy dick. You cheated that time because I didn't want to wreck the tent."

"Shrimpy dick hey? Tickle him Peter and we'll see what happens."

"Don't you dare Peter. I'll kill you if you do."

"And I'll kill him if he doesn't."

Peter didn't hesitate. He knew he'd be killed by both of them anyhow, no matter what happened, and this was too good to miss. As soon as his fingers touched, Andy started writhing and Marty had to hang on tight.

Wow, who would have thought? Andy was just as ticklish as himself and Peter set to work in real earnest. For a minute his enjoyment was total as Andy's laughter increased in volume and his body jerked and twitched so responsively.

"Hey, don't stop."

Peter was in a quandary. Now it was Andy being affected by the tickling. His penis, now flopping on his stomach, was half hard.

"But he's....."

"I know. He's a grower too. There's three more on the team as well. Go on. Keep tickling. He needs a good treatment."

Peter started again, rather hesitantly, but it was fun to see how much he could make Andy squirm and soon he had him shrieking again. He couldn't help looking. It was the first time he'd seen another guy with a proper boner and it was so fascinating. It was funny too. Andy was jumping around so much his boner was waving all over the place. Marty directed things, telling Peter when to work on Andy's stomach, sides or whatever, till he decided it was enough.

"Okay. Check him and see how hard he is."

Peter stared and shook his head, though secretly, he was very curious to know.

"Why not? He did it to you."

Peter shook his head again and could see Andy looking amused at him. It was nearly enough to make him change his mind, but he didn't.

"All right."

Marty nodded his head towards the side of the tent.

"Look in the bag and get the marker-pen."

Andy started struggling with all his strength but Marty was expecting it and kept him under control. Peter didn't move.

"Go on. He knows he's got it coming."

Rather nervously, since he didn't want to do anything that might upset Andy for real, Peter rummaged till he found the marker.

"What are you going to do?"

"I can't do it Peter. That's your job. I have to hold him down. He's getting a little payback with some nice green balls."

"You're a dead man Peter. You'll have green balls for a month if you touch me with that pen."

To Peter's total astonishment he saw Andy give an unmistakable wink. Andy was telling him to go ahead? God. These two were hard to work out.

"He will too Marty. And you know I can't stop him."

"No he won't. ...Will you Andy?"

Andy started to speak but it changed to a squawking kind of noise as his left nipple received a nauger.

"No! No! I won't."

"Promise for Peter."

There was another twist, another squawk and then a promise. Talk about feeling weird. They both watched closely as Peter pulled the cap off the marker and made a couple of tentative dabs with the felt tip.

"God Peter. All over. Not just a few marks."

Peter tried making longer marks but that didn't really work. The skin moved with the end of the felt.

"You'll have to hold them so the marker works properly."

Hold them? He was grinning but Peter could tell he meant it too.

Five minutes later the job was finished and Peter had imprinted in his mind for ever the soft, warm feel of Andy's balls. Marty had made him stretch them up so he could color underneath, pull them from both sides so there was nowhere left without the bright green color, and all the time he was conscious of the hard rod he couldn't avoid touching.

"No washing it off till you get home tomorrow night."

Andy nodded and Marty let him go. He checked himself out, laughed, and told them they were both going to cop it.

"You first Peter. Every half hour."

"Half hour? What?....."

Scrunch. He was crumbled under Andy's body, twisted round and held in the standard treatment position.

"But.... But you said you wouldn't do anything?"

"No I didn't. I said I wouldn't color your balls. I can do anything else though. Marty, bellybutton."

Peter's erection, which he'd half forgotten with all the action, quickly sprang back to life when Marty's finger went to work.

"How's he going? It looks like he's there."

This time Andy’s hand sent a shock through all of Peter's body when he gave that exploratory squeeze.

"Yeah, he's there. And I see what you mean about the pumping."

"God! Look at it. It's a deadly weapon."

As if this was a signal they let him go. Peter immediately flipped onto his stomach, then was just as immediately flipped back again.

"None of the shy stuff Peter. We're getting you out of that."

The funny thing about it was they actually were. Andy still had a kind of half bone and was acting like it was nothing unusual, while Marty was taking no notice of either of them. In fact he was clambering out. He dashed to the fire, which they'd positioned well away so no sparks would affect the tent, tossed a few bits of wood on to keep it going, then rushed back complaining that the mozzies were worse than ever.

"We'll have to stay in the tent for at least another half hour. What'll we do till it’s properly dark?"

"Stage two."

"Now? We were going to do it by the camp-fire."

"Might as well. We've got Peter trapped in here with us."

Stage two? Oh no. They had some kind of plan?

"All right. But now I'll have to go out with those mozzies again."

He was back quickly and Peter saw he was carrying three drink cans. In the fading light he could see they were beer. Three cans?

"No, I don't want it."

Andy did that ear thing again, nipping both Peter's ear lobes then carefully guiding him to a sitting position.

"What do you reckon Marty? Naugies or a red chest?"

"Red chest."

Red chest? What was that? It didn't sound too good.

"What d'you want Peter? The beer or the red chest?"

"The red chest."

"You're mad. Have you ever tried any beer?"

"No."

"Well have one mouthful then."

Peter hesitated, just long enough for them to pick up on it. Marty carefully pulled the tab on one of the cans.

"It can't hurt you. It's only light beer. Open your mouth. Come on, or it'll spill down your front."

He'd lost this one when he hesitated, so he opened while Marty tilted the can against his lips. His mouth filled and a small amount trickled down his chin before he could close and swallow.

"Again."

Peter complied but told himself the third mouthful was as far as he'd go.

"See, it's not so bad. Now keep going."

"This is the last mouthful Marty."

Marty tilted the can again, pouring as much as he could into Peter's mouth.

"Come on. Another one."

"No. That's it. It's awful stuff."

"Once more and you'll only get tickled instead of the red chest."

"As long as you don't make me have any more after that."

"All right. As long as it's a big mouthful."

They tricked him a bit because Andy put extra pressure on his ears so his head tilted back, and then Marty kept pouring. Peter's mouth filled, and when he swallowed it filled again. It was going to spill so he automatically swallowed again to stop any mess, but when Marty kept pouring Peter knew he wasn't going to stop so he worked his jaws and closed his mouth.

Too bad if it spilt.

Cheats. They'd really got him this time. He'd started out agreeing to have one mouthful and somehow it had turned into six.

"How much did he drink Marty?"

"Feels like about half the can."

"Half? You might as well finish it Peter."

"No."

"We'll even let you off the treatment if you do."

"Yeah. How long for? Probably five minutes. Too bad."

This made them laugh and they said they'd let him off for ten minutes anyway. It was fifteen minutes really by the time they finished the can between them and had another one each as well. They spent most of the time stirring Peter, wanting to know if he was feeling drunk yet, telling him that the next time he'd be drinking four cans.

"You're a boozer now Peter. Wait till we tell your mum about this."

"What? That you poured it down my throat? Sure too."

It was almost dark and Peter looked out at the strengthening light of the campfire. The new logs had all caught properly and the flames were flickering merrily. They were all keen to get back out again after being in the tent for nearly three quarters of an hour, but Andy decided Peter had to have his treatment while they were on the comfortable sleeping bags.

"It's your turn holding him Marty. He gets a double whammy this time because his half hour's gone and I know how to get him best."

Half hour? Surely he couldn't be serious about the half-hour thing? He was though, and the first thing he did was work on Peter's belly button till the boner that had subsided during the beer drinking was back in full force. Peter felt that shivery, vulnerable sensation and wondered the whole time if Andy was going to check how hard he was again, and whether it would give the same shock.

He did and it did.

Then he concentrated on making Peter laugh, screech and writhe for another five minutes, complaining all the time about Peter's dangerous weapon, saying it was like being hit by a flagpole. Marty got sick of holding Peter's arms and when he joined in with his own poking and tickling Peter curled himself in a ball shape and stayed like that till they finished. Marty unzipped the tent, letting a waft of fresh air in and decided to move to the fire which was now like a small island of light in the gathering darkness. Peter was going to stay for a while but Andy knew why, and stirring him about his shyness, gave him no choice. It felt really rude walking to the camp-fire with a boner and Peter could hardly believe he was actually doing it. Not that he had much choice. The darkness made him feel slightly protected but that only lasted till they reached the fire and then it was another five minutes before he softened down properly.

"Stage three."

Peter had relaxed on the groundsheet they were using, watching the play of the fire and the flare-up of sparks each time Marty poked with the stick he was wielding, so it was a jolt to hear Andy's sudden statement. Marty grabbed one arm, Andy the other and they gave him enough pokes and jabs to set him squawking.

"Are you going to be good and do what you're told?"

"What do I have to do? "

"Start swearing."

"Swearing? What for?"

"Because it's our rule for tonight."

"Rule? You just made that up."

"Oh well, it's still the rule. What are you going to say first?"

"That's not fair."

"Fair? We don't have to be fair. We make up the rules."

"That's not fair either."

"It's just mucking around Peter. You won't have to do it again."

"Well I'll do it as long as you follow my rule."

Peter knew they'd make him swear anyway but maybe he could even things out a bit.

"Your rule? What's that?"

"If I catch you swearing, you have to pay for it."

This was obviously an interesting idea and they wanted to know how they'd have to pay.

"I don't know. But I'll think of something."

They argued it out between them, but in the end agreed that it was fair and made a deal. They released Peter's arms and looked expectantly at him.

"Come on. We're waiting."

"Um. My mouth doesn't want to."

This was true. It just wasn't part of Peter's vocabulary. He hadn't sworn in his whole life so far. Well, he had when he was tiny, according to his mum, copying people he'd heard around him, and a couple of times too he'd experimented by himself to see what it felt like but after a few words he'd felt uncomfortable and stopped.

Andy and Marty were waiting though.

"Um. ...Sh..t!"

Andy and Marty roared with laughter. Peter wondered why. It didn't sound funny to him. Andy put his hand on Peter's neck and gave it a squeeze.

"That was so good. Now say it three times."

"Sh..t! Sh..i! Sh..t!

They just laughed again then wanted more.

"That's hardly swearing Peter. Say something bad."

"F…!"

Their eyes opened in mock horror.

"That's disgusting. Andy, aren't you ashamed of him?"

"Evil. He's such a bad influence on us."

They got him to say every word they could think of, and Peter was totally relieved when it finished. It actually felt as if someone else was speaking from his mouth. At least they'd promised him he wouldn't have to do it again. Marty reckoned it wasn't proper swearing because the words didn't sound right.

 

They talked for ages. Well maybe an hour, which was a long time to go without a change of activity. Marty experimented with his stick, setting the end on fire and whirling it so the red coals at the end glowed from the rush of air. He kept pretending he was going to brand them with it till a glowing ember dropped on Andy's stomach.

They asked stacks of questions about Peter's old town, the things he used to do there and how he used to get stirred so much. They had all sorts of answers for what he should have done but Peter had heard them all before.

Andy decided it was because he was too different.

"You'll have to camouflage all these weird things till everyone gets to know you're all right, and then it won't matter. Being with us will get you through but you'll have to do what we tell you. And being on the swim team’s a good move. They'll start stirring you soon if you keep wearing shorts though."

"Yeah Peter. They're already laughing about you wearing them while you have your shower, so the sooner you let them see your dick the better. They'll make jokes but don't take any notice. They'll all be wishing it was theirs anyway. Hey, Andy, if we stirred the most, that would help."

Andy laughed and thought that was a great idea.

"D’you reckon you could put up with that Peter?"

"You're already do stir me."

"No we don't. That's just mucking round. I meant in front of other guys."

“Um. I think so."

"Good. We'll work on you all tomorrow so you're used to it. It won't work if you act all embarrassed."

"Yeah, wank it now Peter and show us how big it gets."

No way. He couldn't be serious. Peter stared at Marty wondering how to get through this new shock.

"Peter, you look like you're ready to run and hide. He's not telling you wank yourself. You're meant to stir him back. Marty! Pull your own. That's if you can find it."

Marty laughed and held his hand out with the thumb poking up.

"Sit on it."

Gradually Peter relaxed and started smiling as they kept making crude comments, but then the continued focus and suggestions started him growing.

"Hey Peter, how come your knob's so red? You been rubbing it too much?"

Startled, Peter looked down to check himself out then realised he'd been tricked.

"Trust you to notice Marty."

Andy and Marty both cheered then dived and nearly knocked the breath out of him.

"Give it to him Andy. Did you hear how cheeky that was?"

"Terrible. We try to help him, so he drinks our beer, swears at us, then gets personal. What'll we do with him?"

"Bellybutton. Then throw him in the river."

Again? How many more times would this happen? It didn't take long and a funny feeling of anticipation developed as well till Andy did the hardness checking thing.

"He's nearly ready. It’s pumping again. God. You could pole vault with that thing. You take his arms Marty and I'll get his legs."

Dangling between the two of them, he was carted to the edge of the water, then with a one, two, three, tossed in a flailing bundle. As soon as the sudden shock of getting wet was over Peter realised the water was as warm as. He decided to dive under and hide by holding his breath but that didn't work because Andy and Marty were following and one of them tripped over him, whacking his side at the same time.

They all stood up to catch their breath then subsided with just their heads out while they got their bearings. It was quite spooky with the only light coming from the fire and the stars and Andy and Marty's faces stood out, white against the blackness all round. Andy disappeared and a couple of seconds later Marty fell over when his legs were grabbed. Peter watched them wrestling and laughing but stayed well out of the way because his erection was still going strong. He wanted it to go away but wasn't having much luck with the warmth of the water, the darkness and the newness of swimming nude, all combining to prolong his feelings.

Andy and Marty weren't going to leave him alone though, and when they both disappeared underwater he knew he'd run out of recovery time. He dodged them at first but when they came up for a breath they quickly worked out where he was and disappeared under water again. It was like waiting for a couple of sharks to attack and when a hand brushed, then grabbed his leg, he couldn't help giving a yell and then a laugh as he was tripped over. When he stood up he glimpsed one face and was just starting to wonder where the other was when there was an explosion of activity. His legs were forced apart and a head pushed through from behind. His whole body was lifted right out of the water and he found himself sitting on someone's shoulders. It was Andy. Peter knew straight away but every other thought fled from his mind as he felt his groin pressing against the back of Andy's head. They staggered till Andy caught his balance and then there was a laugh.

"My god Marty. He's humping the back of my head."

"What?"

"I've picked him up too soon. He's still boning."

Marty thought this was hilarious.

"Don't bounce him round too much then. You never know what might happen."

Andy proceeded to do just that, while Peter wished he wasn't there. He understood that they were doing this as their treatment to get him out of being shy, but at the moment he was speechless with embarrassment. Every movement of Andy's body translated to pressure on his balls and it was just too intimate for him. It didn't last long though because Andy walked out of the water and back to the camp-fire, then lowered Peter to the ground.

"God, you're rude Peter. Doesn't that bone ever go down?"

Peter didn't answer, just brushed some of the water off his body and stood by the fire facing away from them. They talked and hacked round for a while then Andy found three large potatoes from his pack and buried them in the glowing coals. This was very interesting because it looked like they were being incinerated and when they were finished and pulled out they looked even worse. Andy sliced through the black outer shell and when he mashed some butter into the steaming white inside and they gingerly spooned the hot mixture into their mouths Peter was astonished at how delicious it was.

There was some more normalising treatment where Peter had to promise not to read anything for the rest of the weekend or do any study and then Marty stuck a lighted cigarette in his mouth and they made him finish half of it while getting their laughs from his disgusted expressions. The second half of the cigarette was tossed in the fire because neither Andy nor Marty could stand the things. The fire started to die down and Andy said it was time to get to sleep. Peter was rather surprised because he'd expected them to want to talk all night but was informed that the next day was going to be very busy.

"We want to get further up the river than we've been before and explore where it gets all rugged in the national park.”

It took a while to get to sleep though, because Andy and Marty kept mucking round. Peter was in the middle position and they kept reaching over him to attack each other. He soon realised they were doing it on purpose and overreacted so they knew he understood what was going on. This egged them on even more and he was squished and bounced on so they could listen to his complaints.Eventually they stopped and were just talking, then that died away as well.

Peter was getting pleasantly dozy when Marty got up and left the tent, then was followed by Andy. Peter thought they must be going for a leak, but when they'd taken too long he stuck his head out to see where they were. He could just make out their shapes near the water and was wondering why they were standing there when he heard a moaning sound. He heard it again, followed by a short chuckle and then knew exactly what was happening. He listened till the sounds finished and when Andy and Marty started moving, wriggled back to his position in the middle of the tent and pretended to be asleep. Neither of them said anything, just made themselves comfortable and seemed to fall asleep in minutes, while Peter lay thinking about everything that had happened and wondering why Andy was being such a friend.

Andy was kind of the leader. Marty bossed him round because of his strength but it was mostly Andy's ideas that started new things happening.

Peter rolled from his stomach to his back and wished he had his boxers on. That was how he normally went to bed and being bare felt too different. He wondered what tomorrow would be like. It did sound interesting, a bit like an adventure from some of the books he read, but the thought of more stirring and pranks by Andy and Marty was rather nerve-wracking, especially since they'd told him they still had a couple of special things for him.

He didn't think of anything else because sleep took over.

END OF CHAPTER 2.

Iarwain.