Jimbo - 1. Camp Falls

I had decided it would be my last year as a counselor at Camp Falls. The Scout Council had bought this property three years prior and each summer we would tame a bit more of the wilderness as we created a highly functional summer camp. It was still rough and wild. The new camp was so different than the old camp which sat on the James River. Preparing for camp then was basically picking up fallen limbs, unpacking the tents, collecting snakes for the nature tent and finalizing our training curricula for the boys. The new camp tasks included creating the amphitheater for the Wednesday evening parent’s night, clearing trails, building fire pits in each camp site, cutting down trees, raking gravel in the red clay road that became a river every time it rained, providing training courses and shepherding needy boys who were experiencing their first time away from home. Many of these boys had never experienced being away from home, total blackout at night except during a full moon, swimming in a lake, or how to safely pick up a copperhead and put it in the snake box. Hell, to be honest, I had never learned how to pick up a copperhead because though I appeared rough and tough, I was a big sissy whenever I saw a snake. It took everything in me not to scream like a seventh-grade girl. Don’t tell anyone.

We were midway through the summer season when the new group of boys arrived on Sunday afternoon. This troop was unusual in that they did not have a Scoutmaster with them. He had an appendicitis attack the day before and was in the hospital. After a panicked call to the Camp Director, the troop was assured that I would provide leadership to them during the week. Lucky me, huh? This was a bunch of town kids in a troop that had just been formed in the past year. All of them were newbies. I always hated when the troop was from town. I much preferred the troops from the rural communities where the boys knew how to live in the woods, knew how to create something out of nothing, and were well built from working on their daddy’s farm. Somehow, I always ended up with the new boys from the troops in towns. I was known to be an empath and could help these little fellows during their first year of camp. I could also be the big brother, even the dad, if needed. I always had young, sallow looking boys hanging on to me. To tell you the truth, I often enjoyed having these newbies and helping them adjust to this new life. I just wouldn’t tell any of the other counselors. I continued to gripe and complain that I always got the most difficult campers. I said that I had to do everything except teach them how to masturbate. The other counselors would laugh and say that with my big dick I would probably scare them off if I pulled it out and showed them how to shake the snake.

The staff campsite was away from those of the boys. There was a certain relaxation there regarding the rules. We would walk around in our briefs or jock straps; especially the waterfront staff. They loved showing off their bodies and their firm asses. I had to be careful because I would pop a boner whenever they would show off. I wanted to slide my meat into their holes and make love to them. Not fuck, mind you, but make love. I needed to feel a connection with the person who was sharing my bed.

Anyway, each staff member had his own tent. We didn’t share. Given my seniority I got to pick out my tent when counselors first arrived. I chose the tent that was the most remote. It provided privacy each night as I slid off my briefs and jerked my cock. I was a moaner and sometimes the other guys would laugh the next day that they heard me moaning like a dog in heat the night before. They would then start their wild animal calls mimicking my groans. We would all laugh because I knew they were doing the same thing. Some of them were moaners but most were embarrassed and would have bitten off their bottom lips before allowing anyone to hear them. Of course, heading into the morning shower we could see dried cum on each other. Our pubic hairs would be crusty or there would be a snail trail of dried cum on our stomachs. I was a big shooter and would proudly display the dried cum on my shoulder or even my forehead. I never let the other counselors see dried cum on my lips though– probably because I licked my lips and savored the taste of my hot, tasty, baby batter.

I was always a snazzy dresser and wore my best uniform on Sunday afternoons when campers arrived and on Wednesday evenings during parent’s night. My shorts were just a little too tight in the crotch and I had my mama take in the seat until my butt was practically busting through. My shirt was filled out with my muscles from working the farm and downing trees at camp. Blond hair poked out of the V-neck of the shirt and my neckerchief was low enough so that the boys could tell that I had a hairy chest. I wasn’t an ape but I was developing a nice spread of hair across my upper pecs. I had just graduated from high school that spring and I still had hair sprouting to do. I would laugh and say that I wanted my cock big enough to throw over my shoulder and that I would then walk around the camp naked. I knew that wasn’t going to happen but it gave me a good laugh.

This week my boys were the usual townie group except for one boy. I guessed him to be either 14 or 15. I found out later he was actually 16. He was tall and rail thin. I bet I could put my hands around his waist. He stood apart from the other boys and when I lined them up to head to the campsite, he was the last in line. Normally, I would head up the line and lead the boys. Today I decided to give directions from the rear and off we went. I stumbled and almost fell because I was watching this boy’s ass instead of the uneven gravel trail. The only boy who saw me was the last in line. I just gave him a smile and told him that we needed to watch the trail. He gave a shrug and kept walking. Once we reached the campsite, I told them to choose a tent, change clothes and we would head to the waterfront for their swimming competency test. The boys paired off and I realized that they had an odd number of scouts; Mason was alone in his tent. Instead of complaining, he took it in stride and said that was how the cookie crumbled or some other saying. Off they went having a good time and exclaiming how wild the area was. Slowly they emerged from their tents wearing swimsuits. They had on various styles of swimsuits, a towel and all were wearing sneakers. Then there was Mason. He had on a pair of hand me down, too big Hawaiian Jams, a long-sleeved tee shirt, a baseball cap and he had on high top sneakers. He also had a big tube of sun screen. I told him there was no need for the sun screen and for him to take his tee shirt back to the tent. He was not happy but he did as asked. Back he came and fell in line. He looked all bones and skin but I noticed a layer of muscles underneath. He had the whitest body of any of the boys. I was up front and led the boys to the waterfront. After reporting in and getting my boys situated, I sat on the beach and watched them take their swimming competencies. All boys passed except Mason. He was embarrassed. I never had a boy fail the water competency and I wasn’t starting that day.

I had already picked Toby as a leader and asked him to take the boys back to the campsite. I told him that Mason and I would be back in an hour. I approached Lester, the head lifeguard, and asked to borrow a pair of trunks. The life guard shack always had extra pairs on trunks available. Today, however, Lester told me they only had a pair of speedos. I glared at him and he shrugged his shoulders. I went in the shack, stripped and put on the swimsuit that barely covered my ass and cock. I came out and told Mason that we were going to practice. He couldn’t look at me. His normally pale skin had reddened. I noticed that he looked down at my cock and then quickly looked away. We waded into the lake until we were waist deep. I demonstrated how to swim a simple stroke. Mason tried and he sank like a rock. He was fighting the water the entire time. He came up coughing water and was crying. I put my arm on his back and assured him that he could do it.

The next step was getting him comfortable being in the water so I laid my arms across the top of the water and had him lay his body across my arms. It took a couple of tries before he got him body situated and balanced. That gave me a good opportunity to touch his body and to feel along his thighs, waist, and crotch. He looked up at me full of panic. Using a soothing voice, I told him it was ok for him to just relax. I then had him use his arms to stroke through the water. I then had him use his legs. Each of these changes required that I adjust my body to support him. He became comfortable and I could have sworn that he was rubbing his dick across my arms as he stabilized in the water. His legs were getting caught up in his too big, too heavy, too cumbersome swimsuit. I told him to take off his swimsuit and to just have on his underwear. The boy was not wearing a jockstrap. He probably didn’t know what one was. He reddened up and I assured him that no one would see. He dropped his Jams and I threw them to the shore.

As Mason accomplished each movement, I would use a hand and rub his back and praise him. He basked in the praise. I then removed my hands and he sank. He came out of the water coughing and grabbed hold of me. His arms were around my neck and he had his body pressed to mine. His too big underpants were about to fall off his hips. I pulled them back up and held on to him. We used the entire hour practicing and I told him he was ready for the test again. The waterfront staff had been watching me teach him and encouraged him with each advance he made. I turned him over to Lester for the competency test. He passed and grinned from ear to ear. Victory.

Mason put on his Hawaiian Jams; I went in the shack to change and then would walk him back to his camp. My clothes were gone. I came out and the waterfront staff were laughing at me. Finally, Lester told me that my clothes would be found back at my tent. They had planned for me to have the walk of shame across the entire camp wearing a speedo. I decided to deflect the shame and use that time to show off my body. Mason and I walked to his campsite and then I made sure to talk to each boy while wearing the small swimsuit. Some of the boys openly admired what they saw while others would peek and then would quickly turn their heads. I had a big enough ego to enjoy what was happening. There was already a big load of cock snot making a big wet spot in the front of the speedos.

After the Sunday night dinner, we had a welcoming campfire in the amphitheater. Each counselor would sit with his troop and then introduce them to everyone else. The boys spread out on the benches and I felt someone pressed up against me. It was Mason. He was sitting as close as he could. I smiled at him and put my arm across his shoulder. Our Camp Director was a bit long winded and before the program was completed, I realized that there was a snoozing boy leaning on my shoulder. Scoutmasters took their troops back to the campsites. I took the troop back and told them they were on their own until the next morning as I was sleeping in my staff tent. I saw a look of disappointment on Mason’s face.

Monday morning started apace. The Scouts were assigned to different learning areas depending on their needs and their rank. I was busy in the ropes course teaching all of the required knots. The morning dragged on as a new group arrived each hour. By the end of the week, the boys would have passed competencies needed for their rank or for their merit badge and they would have built a rope bridge. I was a task master but was a natural at teaching these essential skills. All of my boys passed with flying colors. I always had another counselor to give them their final test because two years prior I had been accused of automatically passing the boys. I took umbrage and had the camp director test each boy on his knot skills. Each boy passed but I decided to never put myself or the boys in that situation again. By Friday, each boy would be able to pass even if it meant that I would stay up all night teaching. I was not a failure and neither were my students.

We headed to the dining hall for lunch. I was famished as I had barely had time to eat breakfast that day. I had awoken with an urgent need that took longer to complete than necessary. I tried picturing men or women in general to get to that critical juncture where need met friction to produce the required results. My brain kept picturing Mason in his Y front Fruit of the Looms. I really wasn’t a boy lover. Hell, most people still considered me a boy. Each time I would picture Mason my cock would throb, but I would erase that picture because I couldn’t get emotionally attached to any of the campers. Finally, I realized the entire staff area was empty except for me. I had to unload so front and center was the image of Mason. I practically drowned as load after load of scalding cum shot and hit my mouth as if it were an archery target. My mouth was the bull’s eye and it was white with foam from all of the cum.

I laid back to catch my breath. My chest was heaving.

Quickly, I ran into the shower to rinse off, brush my teeth and brush down the mop of blond curls on my head. There was no hot water so I was thankful it was already hot and humid outside. By the time I got to the dining hall I caught the hairy eyeball from the camp director. All of the scouts were heading to their first activities. I grabbed a mug of coffee and a couple of pieces of toast and headed out the door. That was not enough food to get me through the morning. Besides, I had missed my 6:30 wake up time with the troop. That would not happen again.

Lunch time was raucous as the Scouts were starting to own their camp experience. I sat with the troop and asked about the morning. Several of the boys were telling about their experiences in the nature tent, the waterfront, leadership courses and biology. A couple of the boys looked shell shocked. Apparently, they had never had such a camp focused experience. It would take a little longer for some boys but they would be fine by the time their parents arrived on Wednesday. As we were cleaning the table, Mason came and said he had the knots class next. I laughed and told him that he could help me teach. He then said he had a hard time tying his shoe strings. I laughed like he was joking. But he wasn’t. This kid was going to take a lot of personal training time if he was going to make it through the week. He did have a self-effacing manner and natural leadership style with the other campers which was a great help. He was assisting them even though he himself wasn’t yet fully adept.

After the class, I had a free period and my troop had to go to the lake. I decided to follow them. Everything that Mason and I had done the day before was for naught. The boy couldn’t swim a lick. I had on an old, everyday uniform so I stripped off my shirt, my shoes and stockings, neckerchief leaving just my shorts and waded into the water.

“Mason, come over here please.” I had a stern tone to my voice and it instantly transmitted to one and all. Everyone looked my way. He trudged through the water wearing those awful Jams. He stood in front of me.

“What the hell is your problem? We went through this yesterday and you passed your competency. Did you forget everything overnight?”

The tears were welling in his eyes. The boys in the troop had all stopped what they were doing. Wrong tactic, Jimbo. Encourage the boys don’t put them down in any way. So, I dropped down in the water and put my arms out. I smiled and professed that I wasn’t a very good teacher and he needed a refresher course. I thought. ‘own the responsibility; you want to be a man, then man up and teach this boy to swim.’

It didn’t take long before Mason was swimming again. I told him the problem was not his but it was those Hawaiian Jams. They bunched up and weighed too much. He took them off and tossed them to the shore. I also told him it was time that he started wearing a jock strap. He blushed. I told him to get another swimsuit and a jockstrap even if it meant calling his parents and telling them to bring them on Wednesday. Anything was better than what he was wearing. There was a collection of used jockstraps in the swim staff shack and I told him to borrow one until his parents brought him a new one.

I called out to the boys and told them they were doing a great job. I made a point to recognize Mason in a positive way.

I left the lake early and quickly went to my tent to put on a pair of clean shorts. I reached in my trunk to pull out clean underwear and realized that there weren’t any. I decided to wear a jockstrap under my Scout shorts that my mother had re-hemmed so the leg length below my crotch was only 4 inches. Normally the shorts would be just above the knees. These were definitely not regulation scout shorts. The next hour was spent teaching another group of boys how to tie knots. We then had a short break before dinner. Instead of going to find my dirty clothes to wash, I went to the camp site where my troop was staying. They needed supervision and direction and I had inherited the task. They had gathered around Mason providing him support. I knew that I had to back track and set the situation right.

The bugle call sounded for dinner and I had my troop line up. I told them it would be a free-for-all heading into the dining hall but I wanted the rest of the troops to see us as an orderly, well organized troop of men. Toby would lead us as we marched to the dining hall, line up on either side of the table, and stay standing until the grace had been said. I asked Benjie to count off and we left the campsite in single file order. They looked smart and proud as we entered the dining hall. People took notice. Again, I brought up the rear. Our table was at the far end of the dining hall so we marched past every other troop. The other counselors were smirking at me. These boys made me proud. I was at the head of the table with my back to the wall so I could see the entire room. Several people were staring at me.

Dining was family style. Platters and bowls of food were placed in the center of the table and then passed around. The boys at the table were whispering and giggling to each other. I asked what they were whispering and they told me nothing but they all looked at me and smiled. The little rascals were up to something but I didn’t know what. Mason kept looking at me and then would hang his head. Oh well, he was probably embarrassed about forgetting how to swim.

At the end of the meal the Camp Director stood and made a couple of announcements. He then said that dressing appropriately was important at camp and that sometimes refresher courses were needed. He said that he expected everyone to be spit shine polished on Wednesday when their families arrived. I was barely paying attention to his yammering. I sat up when I heard him call my name. He asked if I would stand in my chair and review what constituted a dress uniform for all of the scouts. A couple of my boys moved plates out of the way so I decided to stand on the table. That way everybody could see me. After stepping on the table, I realized how much I appreciated being 6’4” with long legs. It was an easy climb. I then started with the scout cap, then shirt and neckerchief. Everyone was looking at me smiling. A few were laughing which I did not appreciate since my presentation was very serious. I then looked down to talk about belt, shorts and stockings. My zipper was undone. A bulge of a mustard yellow jockstrap was pushing out of my shorts. I put my hand over my crotch and blushed. Everyone let out a loud roar of laughter. Well, Jimbo, at least you have enough dick to push through the opening.

I looked up and smiled. “OK, calm down. This is known as a jockstrap. The last thing you want is for your penis to be hanging out when your mothers and sisters arrive on Wednesday.” I was trying to push my jock back into the opening and zip up my shorts while talking. I got my jock back in but the zipper wouldn’t work. The jockstrap popped out again. It was like a fucking jack in the box. There was total mayhem in the dining hall. “Another thing, wear underwear. None of us wants to see your dick or a jockstrap.” I put my cap over my crotch and finished up my presentation. I knew that the Camp Director did that on purpose. He must have seen my open zipper when we came in. Also, my very short shorts. He was practically rolling on the floor laughing as we exited the dining hall. I smiled, saluted and told him that I would be changing clothes before the evening presentation.

I had my comeuppance and everyone had a laugh. Even me. You must be able to laugh at yourself or that flaw was quickly discovered by everyone else and there would be hell to pay. It was free time and the boys scampered about. Mason walked beside me back to the campsite and asked where he could get a yellow jockstrap like mine. He averred that the local Leggett’s store only carried white. He said that he was growing up and wanted to explore new things. He gave a look which I could not quite decipher.

In preparation for Wednesday family night, each troop was asked to nominate one scout for the Order of the Arrow. This honor was given to scouts who exemplified the virtues of the scouting program. An announcement would be made on Wednesday night and then on Friday night those chosen would be honored in a special ceremony only attended by members of the Order and new initiates. A lot of parents arrived early on Wednesday and had brought picnic dinners. I had told my troop that while I appreciated that their mothers had prepared meals, we were still a troop and after dinner we would march together and sit together during the program. There was some pushback but the boys were learning the value of teamwork and being part of the troop. They were developing pride in who they were. As the boys were gathering after social time with their families, I looked up and watched as my parents walked up to me. I wondered why they were at camp. They hugged me and told me that they were missing me and wanted to come to family night. They had missed dinner at the camp dining hall but said they stopped and grabbed some fast food on the way. They said we would talk afterwards and watched while I gathered the boys in the troop.

Part of my dress uniform was the Order of the Arrow Brotherhood sash. I wore it with pride. The boys marched in and we sat together. The Camp Director, the Council Executive Director and three Order of the Arrow leaders sat down front by the bonfire. The Order of the Arrow leaders always announced who was being inducted. My parents were sitting on the front row and paying attention to every word that was said. They had long supported me in my scout work and took an interest during my final year as camp counselor.

Each troop put on a skit; they worked hard to create humor from the mundane but serious work of being a camper. They also offered much praise for the camp. The Council Executive Director talked about the importance of camping and his thanks for all of the boys who were present. At that moment I was proud to be a Boy Scout. I knew how much these boys had changed in just four days and we had another three to go. I looked through teary eyes at the campfire and thought about all of the positive changes in my life since becoming a scout.

The Executive Director was talking about the National Scout Office and how they had approved the next honor to be awarded that evening. I was called forward and it was announced that I had been awarded the Vigil Honor of the Order of the Arrow. I was stunned because those individuals were revered as elders and it was something rare. My parents were called forward and they put the sash across my shoulder. I couldn’t see anyone because of the tears running down my face. I heard my troop members whistling and yelling. All of a sudden, they surrounded and were hugging me.

After calm had been restored, one of the gentlemen spoke about the Vigil Honor and my progress in the Scouting program. He said I was the only person to be honored in our Council that year. He then asked me to read out the list of those to be inducted in the Order and for each of those individuals to come forward. I did not know who had been nominated so was shocked when the first name I called was Mason Jenner. His troop knew something about him that I had not fully recognized yet. Mason came down, shook my hand, and then stood by my side while others lined up as their names were called.

After the campfire the boys were dismissed and told they had free time until the bugle signaled the end of day. Before I could talk to my parents, Mason grabbed me for a big hug. His parents then shook my hand and said they hoped their son would be as successful as I had been in my scouting program. My mother threw her arms around my neck and held on forever or so it seemed. My dad was the proud father talking with the Order of the Arrow leaders. I walked over and started gushing. They told me that I was now a peer to them and that I would be announcing all new inductees for the rest of the camping season. I stood tall and proud.

The next two days were a blur as my fellow counselors spoke to me in a new and different way. Some of the joshing and joking was replaced with respect and wonder. I told them I was the same old guy but they knew different. The boys in my troop would grow silent each time I would start to speak. There was no more talking them down. Mason was nervous as hell wanting to know about the induction ceremony on Friday night. Since I was camp counselor for this troop, I was naturally his mentor. Luckily, Mason’s mother came through with a bathing suit and jockstrap that allowed him to swim and not get pulled to the bottom of the lake. She even found a mustard yellow jock strap. I asked him to lead the troop to the dining hall for meals as they had honored him as a leader. He was proudly up front. When we ate in the dining hall, he said that he would sit beside me. This reclusive boy was coming out of his shell.

I was looking at him through a new set of lenses. He was cute. He was tall. He was thin but I thought he might fill out a little over time. Under his lily-white skin were sinewy muscles. Actually, he was starting to get some color to his skin which made him handsome; he didn’t look pasty anymore. His eyes were green (how had I missed that). His hair was sort of ginger but not quite; it was red almost auburn. He was a gangly teenager who was going through puberty. He was a hot mess of hormones, testosterone, and self-image problems. I now looked at the boy with the crazy swim trunks who was valued in his troop and saw a man emerging.

Mason knew his own strengths and weaknesses. He was willing to work like hell to overcome his deficits. He couldn’t tie his shoes very well. He couldn’t snap his fingers either. His fingers were long and spindly and coordination had not caught up with him. Forget the notion that he could actually whistle. I had been teaching the troop the “Colonel Bogey March.” Boy were they bad. Mason tried but those lips just couldn’t produce the right sound. I got up close and personal with him as we practiced. I did everything except kiss him we were so close. I had the boys practicing Colonel Bogey by snapping fingers and whistling. I alluded to a special, secret plan. We marched round and round the campfire snapping fingers and whistling. It was coming together except for a certain person. I laughed thinking it was probably too much for him to walk and chew gum at the same time. On Thursday morning I arrived at the campsite early and Mason was walking between the tents and whistling. He was waking each boy by whistling the Colonel Bogey March in their ears. Damn, he must have stayed up all night practicing. He saw me and grinned from ear to ear.

On Friday morning I took a piece of felt to Mason’s tent. I told him that he needed to create his loin cloth for the ceremony that night. The loincloth should represent who he was and who he wanted to be. I gave him a bag with scissors, needle, thread, glue, beads and different colored ribbons. After laying out the cloth, I showed him how to cut out the crotch area so it would be more comfortable. At 7 pm I would come to the campsite to get him for the induction. All of the boys in his troop would be present at the campsite and present him to me as their choice. He and I then would go to the amphitheater. All of the inductees were getting the same instructions. The rest of the boys would have a bonfire at the lake and a program presented by staff who were not members of the Order of the Arrow.

Mason was not present at lunch. The guys said he was working on something and wasn’t hungry. I knew about his intensity when working on something and was concerned that he was overdoing a task which should have been fairly straight forward. My afternoon was spent with different troops as they completed the rope bridge and tested it for strength. On Saturday morning every camper would walk across the bridge as they headed to the closing ceremony. It was a ritual that I had convinced the Camp Director to implement. We used that symbolism of crossing that bridge as a lead-in to the closing ceremony where awards were handed out to campers for their successes during the week.

At dinner time, I presented to the campsite and the boys were quickly organizing themselves. They were already in line while Mason ensured that everyone was properly kitted. He led the troop as we marched in line to the dining hall. We noticed that other troops had emulated our style and were marching, single file to mess. My boys were proud that they had set the standard; they held their heads high. There was much excitement during the meal as it was our last dinner together. The Camp Director reviewed the schedule for the evening and for the next morning. He thanked the boys for their stay at the camp. He wanted them to all sign on for next year. Afterall, the camp was a business and he needed to make the camp a financial success.

After dinner I told my troop that I would arrive in the campsite at 7 pm and they had free time until then. I went to the staff campsite and collapsed. Adding troop supervision to my schedule for the week had exhausted me. There was much discussion among staff about plans for the weekend. We could be away from camp from Saturday noon until Sunday noon. Most of the staff went their various ways to enjoy the freedom. I decided to stay at camp and sleep. Finally, it was time for me to dress for the ceremony.

I always centered myself before unpacking my Order of the Arrow ceremonial outfit as I considered it sacred. First, I showered and shaved even though shaving still wasn’t an everyday occurrence for me. I spent time washing my ass as I didn’t want skid marks in my loin cloth. The boys were always laughing and joking about skid marks in their underwear. My pits got extra attention as I hated wearing deodorant. Lastly, were my feet. After wearing sneakers all day those dogs could stink. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked back to my tent. The other staff were going through their own rituals in preparation. Each of us had our own special ways of preparing.

I stood naked beside my cot. I took some of my cologne and rubbed it on the pulse points on my wrists. Just a little cologne would go a long way. Then some charcoal from the Wednesday night campfire was lightly stroked across my cheek bones. I had highly defined cheek bones and this light colorization made me feel more in touch with my native spirit. Strands of rawhide were tied around my biceps. At the ends of the rawhide strands were attached shells collected at Nags Head. I then tied a bracelet around my right ankle. There were brass bells attached that clanged with every step that I took. I then took my loin cloth and stepped into it. It rode low of my hips. Most of the scouts had them censured around their waists but I liked mine hanging low. It fit just above my pubic bush. There was a pouch for my cock which was sewn into the loin cloth. It wouldn’t do to have my dick fall out in the middle of the ceremony. The loin cloth was secured with a belt made of deer hide. The deer hide hung low and would brush against my left hip. It was always affixed so the fur would rub against my skin. It was very tactile and kept me aware of my surrounding the entire ceremony. The challenge was not to spring a boner. That was always a risk. I then put on a simple headband with a single feather falling in the back. Our chapter was named after a young Indian brave who saved the colony in Jamestown so it was fitting to wear the headband of a brave. I then lifted the new sash presented to me on Wednesday night. I held it to my lips and kissed it before sliding it across my shoulder. The fabric rubbed against my nipple and I let out a sigh. This ritual had become very erotic and I had to suppress those thoughts. My feet slipped into my moccasins as I stepped out of my tent.

Everything was quiet in the campsite. Other staff were exiting their tents and we gathered around the fire pit. Nothing was said as we held hands and bowed our heads. The fellow next to me poked my ribs and I realized that the other staff were waiting for me to end that part of our ceremony. Being new to this leadership role made me understand they were paying me the honor of being elected to the Vigil Honor position. There was uncomfortable silence as we stood waiting to leave the staff campsite. I was waiting for someone to lead off. The other staff then formed a pathway for me to walk through as we left our campsite. I held my head high as I led my fellow staff down the road to the different campsites.

A quietness pervaded the entire camp. After we had gathered the inductees the other campers would head to the waterfront while we headed to the amphitheater deep in the woods. I walked into the campsite where my troop was waiting. Toby noticed my appearance and quickly gathered the rest of the troop. I stood in the middle of the campsite and did not say a word. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. Intuitively, the boys were quiet while Benjie went to get Mason. After a whispered conversation, Mason stepped from his tent. I and all of the boys caught our breath. Mason stood still in front of the tent flaps. His red hair which was normally plastered down and carefully parted was a mass of curls on his head. His green eyes sparkled in the fading sunlight. He had taken some charcoal and had lightly colored his eyelids. He looked exotic. His only clothing was the loincloth he had made that day. The front panel had a green and brown grosgrain ribbon edging the sides and bottom. Mason had created a figure of a man in mid-dance using twigs, ribbons and bits of cloth. The man looked up to a shining sun that was in the upper left quadrant of the loincloth. On the man’s head was a rack of deer antlers made of more twigs, ribbons and small bells. As Mason walked toward me the bells jingled with each step. It appeared that the man was actually dancing with Mason’s fluid motion. I was transfixed. Mason stood in front of me with his head bowed. We waited.

Toby stepped forward and announced that Mason was their choice to join the Order. I asked all of the boys if they agreed. There was a resounding yes. I walked around Mason inspecting him. The back of his loincloth had the tail of a Whitetail deer sewn where his ass cheeks would have parted. With his curvaceous ass the look was very sensual and erotic. I knew that was not by happenstance. His loincloth sat low on his hips the same as mine. There was a slight treasure trail leading from his pubic bone to his navel. The red Titian hair on the trail against the pale skin captured my imagination.

I stood in front of Mason and asked if he was willing to become a member of the Order. He slowly lifted his head, looked me in the eyes and said that he was. I smiled and he gave me a shy smile in return. I then announced that Mason was being taken to a secret ceremony where he would be inducted. The boys stood in awe as I turned to walk out of the campsite. Mason followed walking barefoot along the gravel road. I never turned and asked if he was alright. I never acknowledged that his walk was painful on his bare feet. He knew that pain came before pleasure and he wanted to experience this new beginning in his life. I pondered that thought and admired the fulsomeness of his desire.

As we approached the amphitheater, I noticed that other inductees were removing their shoes after walking the gravel road. They were talking rather loudly among themselves. Mason stood behind me never saying a word. He was looking down at the ground. I could tell that he noticed the other boys joking and laughing. He had a frown on his face. He then closed his eyes and looked upward. His clenched fists slowly relaxed and the tension left his shoulders. He had taken himself into a deeply spiritual place.

I looked over and gave a look to one of the staff. He immediately stepped over to the inductees and quietly said a few words. Looks of contrition were on their faces. More surprising were the looks among the staff. They knew they had screwed up in preparing their inductees. There was immediate forgiveness because I too had not prepared Mason for the ceremony. Mason instinctively knew what to do. He understood the gravitas of what was happening. His inner being guided him to do the right thing.

We heard the drum beat and one by one we led the boys to the bonfire. We formed a semi-circle in front of the fire with our mentees standing in front of us. I made sure that there was at least a foot of space between Mason’s back and my chest. There was a musky smell emanating from Mason. It was a fragrance that I did not recognize. His shoulders were quivering so I gently put my hand in the middle of his back to calm him. He responded to my touch by standing a little straighter while slightly pushing back into my hand. It was his way of indicating that he needed my touch.

It came time in the ceremony for the placing of sashes on our new members. This outward and visible sign would let all scouts know that they were members of the Order of the Arrow. Mason was the last to be inducted. When the chief reached us he made a sign on Mason’s forehead and then handed me the sash. I slowly lifted it over Mason’s shoulder and ran my hand down his torso to ensure it was untangled. As my fingers crossed over Mason’s nipple he sucked in air. I then continued until my hand reached his hip. My fingers could barely snap the sash together because they were shaking. I then was instructed to whisper the secret passcode to Mason. I put my right hand on his chest and pulled him back to me. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. No one else could hear me also tell him that he was the most beautiful boy being inducted. If Mason was upset then I would have said that he misunderstood me. Instead, Mason gently stepped back into my fold and care when I whispered in his ear. The white tail was rubbing against the front of my loin cloth. He gently swiped his hips from left to right and then back again. My breath became ragged. My hand had moved from his chest to his waist. It remained there. He pushed his ass against my groin.

The chief asked me to say the concluding sentences which were done from where I stood. Normally, the closing sentences were said in front of everyone but I could not move. My hardon would have been obvious to all and Mason had plastered his entire body to mine. After we finished, the drum beat started and we recessed from the amphitheater. When we reached the top of the hill, the Chief and all of the staff shook the hands of the boys who had been inducted. We also clapped them on their backs welcoming them to the chapter. We wanted to build a sense of camaraderie so that when we held a tribal conclave in the fall the inductees would know the boys in their group. That helped quell any fears they might have.

Boys were starting to head back to their campsites. Mason held back. I said a few words to the Chief and to the Camp Director and walked over to him. I joked by asking if he was afraid to walk alone in the dark. He told me that he wasn’t afraid and that he had something for me in his tent. I told him that we should go because we needed our sleep because the morning activities would be strenuous before he headed home.

As we stepped onto the trail, I noticed that Mason was behind me. I turned to invite him to join me but he looked in my eyes and shook his head in the negative. He followed my every footstep. We took a route through the woods so he wouldn’t have to walk on the gravel road. Luckily, there was a full moon so we could see the pathway as there was no artificial light. We reached the campsite and all of the boys were in bed. The flaps on their tents were closed.

Mason took my hand and walked me to his tent. He pulled back the flap. The inside of the tent was immaculate. We went in and he closed the flaps and tied them from the inside. Mason reached down and pulled out a candle and matches from under his bed. I was about to tell him that candles were forbidden in tents but could sense this was an important part of the day for him. He was continuing the ceremony from earlier in the evening. Nothing was said. The only illumination was from the candle which had the same musky smell that I had noticed earlier on Mason.

He took off his sash and reverently laid it on his trunk. He raised his arms above his head and stretched his body. He was standing directly in front of me as I was sitting on one of the cots. His crotch was in my face. I could smell him and was hard as a rock. He reached down and took one of my hands and placed it on his hip where he had tied the censure to his loincloth. He looked me in the eyes. I did not move. He then took my hand to rub it across his ass. He moaned. I was transfixed. He kept moving my hand back and forth until he forced my hand down his trench. My middle finger slid up and down in the cleavage of his ass. Mason arched his back. His breath caught in his throat. He then leaned his torso forward over my head and used his hands to separate his cheeks. My finger slid into his hole. He had used some type of unguent to create a slippery pathway for my finger. He pushed back impaling my finger. He then undid the censure and his loincloth fell to the floor.

I was at a crossroads in my life. What I was doing violated every rule for staff. I had also been conflicted about my sexuality but now it was ever so clear that I was gay. That was a profound moment. I also knew that there was a spiritual bond between Mason and myself. I felt that my life was unfolding and exploding before me. Too many truths were being revealed at once. I envisioned a flower whose petals were unfurling until the central bud was exposed. The bud that contained the sexual essence of life. The bud that contained the DNA of who I was as a person.

I stood and pulled Mason into my arms and kissed him. It was strange but he was the first boy I had ever kissed. He moaned in my throat. I moaned in his. I removed my sash and laid it on the trunk next to Mason’s. I removed my headband and laid it on the cot where I had been sitting. My eyes looked deep in the soul of Mason. He just stared at me and then looked down to my waist. He was waiting for me to present myself to him. My fingers were trembling as I untied the censure and my loincloth fell to the floor. We stood naked in front of each other. I waited.

Tentatively, Mason reached out and touched my torso. I stood still. His hand then swept across my chest from nipple to nipple. It then slid down to my navel and he flatted his palm against my abdomen. He then stopped and looked at me. I mimicked his movements and had my palm against his flat stomach. The next move was mine and I reached down and put my hand around his cock. He exhaled. I had been holding my breath and exhaled when I felt Mason’s hand on my cock. We naturally leaned into each other and kissed. I felt Mason pulling me down onto the bed when my ankle bells starting chiming. We froze. I bent down and carefully removed the anklet and put it on the cot.

We were both giggling as we lay face to face. Our cocks were fighting each other like swords. We kissed and kissed. We were trying very hard to be quiet so as to not awaken the other boys. Mason flipped over with his back to my chest. I put my arms around his chest to hold him tight. That is when I noticed that he was moving his hips. My cock was aligned with his trench. I slid up the crevice and he let out a sigh. I slid down and that is when Mason pushed back and my cock head pushed into his hole. My breath caught in my throat. I felt him continuing to push back and the top of my pelvis bone met his hips. I was fully immersed in his most sacred of places. I knew what heaven must be like at that very moment. Without separating our bodies, we contorted ourselves until I was lying on top of Mason and his legs were over my shoulders.

He hissed the word yes as I slowly started making love to him. The musky smell filled the tent as my cock heated up the aromatic lubricant he had used to prepare himself. I was kissing him and we lay chest to chest and then I arched my back and my central core supported my upper body as I grabbed his ankles and started to pound in and out. I started to moan and Mason took his fingers and slid them into my mouth. His fingers were covered in the lubricant and I started sucking them. I was hungry for him. He was writhing in lust. His ass had its own rhythm as he and I developed our thrust and parry. I practically chewed off his fingers as I started to explode. I looked down and saw his torso covered in cum. His head was thrown back, his head of curls was covered in sweat, his lips were red with blood and there was a small course of the liquid running down his cheek. I gently laid my body on his and took his head in my arms and my lips found his. I gently cleaned the blood off his lips with my tongue. There was the taste of iron in my mouth. It was only when our heartbeats returned to normal that I was aware of a pain in my left arm. I looked down and saw a bite mark. Mason had bitten me when we were both exploding. My blood was in his mouth.

I looked down and he was smiling at me. He told me that we were blood brothers because after biting my arm he had also bit his lip causing it to bleed and had mixed the blood together in his mouth before spitting it onto his lips. My arm hurt like a mickey-fit but I didn’t care. We lay intertwined until he fell asleep.

Ever so gently, I untangled myself and gathered my belongings. I took the ankle bells and wrapped them in my loincloth so they would not clang. My fingers untied the tent flap and I started walking in the moonlight to my tent. I was naked except for my moccasins. My body felt whole and new and alive.

Early the next morning I made a trip to the camp nurse and told her there was a wound that needed cleaning and bandaging. She asked how I had acquired such a nasty bite. She reminded me of how human bites were vile and full of bacteria. The lie slid easily from my mouth as I said that my girlfriend had become too frisky. She didn’t believe me. After cleaning the bite wound, she bandaged me. She used extra bandaging so there was no mistaking that I had been injured. She finally cut some red cloth and made a top bandage for my wound. I think she wanted everyone to ask what happened and the challenge for me to come up with a plausible explanation. I had seen many campers the night before and I was uninjured so this would take a good bit of gamesmanship on my part.

It was time for the troop to gather for the last breakfast together. To the boy, they all wanted to know what had happened. Well, except for one boy. Mason was shy that morning and could barely look at me. His hair was a tangle of curls. It seemed that he had adopted this new look. Mason distractedly asked Toby to lead us to the dining hall. The Camp Director gave me funny looks throughout the meal. He would look at my face and then my arm. He would then look at Mason. After announcements I scooted out the kitchen door to avoid him. There was much to be done before the final competency testing. I immediately went to the ropes area and had another staff member to finish testing the boys. They all passed. We put the rope bridge through one final run through before the closing ceremony. It would have been a catastrophe for it to collapse while all of the parents were present.

We had a final break time for the boys to pack their belongings and to prepare for departure. I went to the staff campsite and put on my dress uniform and was all set to depart when I realized that my Vigil Honor sash was missing. Panic set in. I knew that it was on Mason’s trunk from the night before. How would I explain that? I quickly traversed the camp using the back trails and arrived in the campsite. All of the boys were placing their belongings in front of their tents. I went to Mason’s tent and gently inquired if he was in. He pulled back the flap and his smile was radiant. I told him about my sash. His smile looked like it was from ear to ear. He pulled back the flap for me to enter. Both sashes were intertwined on his cot. He had woven them together. He then told me that he was going to sneak it to me before the final ceremony. I placed his sash across his shoulder, snapped it and gave him a kiss. He returned the favor. I gave him a last quick peck on his lips as I started to open the flap. He pulled on my arm and I was back in the tent.

His eyes were full of tears. He threw his arms around my neck and kissed me deep and hard. His bruised lip started to bleed. We started to have the conversation that was needed when the bugle sounded for assembly. He looked bereft. I gave him a quick kiss and told him we would talk before he left. I walked out of the tent with his blood on my lips.

All of the boys looked at the two of us. They gave us knowing smiles. I reminded myself about how smart and capable these boys had proved to be during the week. They had natural instinct and knowledge. They may have been city boys but they brought a knowing of the world which was different but just as bit as valuable as the country boys.

I gave everyone a smile and asked if they were ready. Benjie had their troop flag and led us in the procession. Toby was lead boy as Mason and I brought up the rear walking side by side. As we approached the parade grounds, Mason gave a signal and the boys starting whistling the Colonel Bogey March. All heads turned our way. After another signal from Mason the boys started snapping their fingers. When we reached the rope bridge, Benjie stood to the side holding the flag as each boy crossed the bridge while whistling and snapping. I was handed the flag as Benjie crossed the bridge. Toby came over, took the flag and indicated that I was to cross the bridge. As I did the troop broke out in applause. I also noticed that the other troops and all of the parents joined in the applause. I was totally embarrassed. We gathered and as people started heading down the hill my boys fell into formation and started whistling and snapping one last time. Others gleefully joined in.

The Camp Director stood in front of the gathering and told the parents it was the best week of camp in his experience. Of course, he said the same thing every Saturday. Parents liked to hear that kind of stuff. He then started handing out awards. There was lots of applause as we made sure that at least one boy from each troop was recognized. It was important for morale. Sometimes we had to make up bogus awards to make that happen but it happened none the less. Two of the boys in the troop had received awards so I was thrilled. We were waiting for the final two awards – best troop and best scout. These awards were decided by the Camp Director and the Executive Director so it was always a surprise, even to the staff.

The Camp Director said that the best troop award was special this week because it was given to the group that arrived without their own Scoutmaster. The boys were practically jumping off their seats. I was stunned. The Camp Director called my name to come forward. I signaled to the boys and everyone of them marched to the center ring. I was given the award. I then announced that I was sending it to the Scoutmaster who had done such an incredible job preparing his boys for summer camp. I handed it off to Mason to give to the Scoutmaster. We all returned to our seats proud that we had received the award. I thought of how much work for me it had been during the week. I was exhausted. I also realized how this award was a reflection of not just the boy’s growth and development but on the leadership skills I had displayed during the week.

Finally, after some parting words the Camp Director said that he was pleased to announce Scout of the Week. He used pauses to great effect. He then announced that Mason Jenner was the recipient of the Scout of the Week award. We all sat there for a couple of seconds before we realized that our Mason was the recipient. Mason grabbed my hand and pulled me down to the center ring. The Camp Director said that Mason had shown the greatest growth of any scout during the week. He recounted the early swimming lessons on Sunday and that Mason had succeeded and passed the swimming requirement for his First Class badge the day before. The Camp Director then handed him his First Class badge. Finally, he mentioned that the boys in the troop saw something in Mason that others may have missed and had elected Mason to the Order of the Arrow on Wednesday. The Chief for the Council came forward and said that boys were observed all week and especially after the Wednesday tapping ceremony and that Mason was being recognized as the top inductee into the Order for this class of boys and would therefore be their leader. Mason was then handed a headband with a single feather in the back. I stood behind him with my hand on his shoulder as I fought back tears. I couldn’t show my emotions during this ceremony. The Chief then said that I was to be Mason’s mentor throughout his scout career and his membership in the Order. Mason leaned back into me and I could feel his body quivering with emotion. At that point, his parents rushed forward and hugged us both.

I was done for. At last the week was over.

The boys gathered around Mason and suddenly lifted him on their shoulders and carried him back to the campsite. I had never seen greater unity and enthusiasm as I did with this group. I talked with parents as we followed the boys back to the campsite. They were all so stunned and pleased with their sons. This was the first year that this troop had formed and come to summer camp. The boys had coalesced into a true scout troop and everyone felt confident that the boys would continue with this bond once they returned home. Parents dispersed once we arrived at the campsite and they helped their boys gather their belongings. There was one more goodbye as each boy came up to shake my hand. They each said they were looking forward to next summer and couldn’t wait to see me again. I did not share that this was my last summer. Somehow this all progressed quickly and there was one boy left. I should say young man. Mason told his parents to go ahead and he would catch up with them in a minute. It was just the two of us standing in the middle of the campsite. We grabbed each other and kissed. We were both sniffling. He told me I would probably forget him as soon as the new boys arrived the next day. I nodded to my arm and reckoned that would not be the case.

“We are blood brothers, us two,” he said.

“Blood brothers,” I concurred.

Just like that he ran from the campsite. The last thing I saw was his back as he rounded the curve to the gravel road.

I hadn’t realized the amount of time I spent sitting in the campsite. My brain was in a daze. I decided to open the flaps on all of the tents so they could air out before the next group of boys arrived. The last tent flaps I opened was where Mason had spent the week. There on the bed was a package. I thought that he had forgotten something and we would have to mail it to him. I stepped into the tent and saw the package had my name on it. My fingers fumbled as I opened the package and found his Hawaiian Jams. There was a note on top of the Jams. I read that there was a special gift inside the Jams. I pulled back the drawstring and saw a mustard yellow jockstrap. I picked it up and put it to my nose. I smelled boy cum. The fabric was damp. I stripped off my shorts and put on the jockstrap. I could feel his cum saturating my ball sack. I pulled on my shorts, grabbed the package with the Jams and started walking back to my tent.

As I entered the staff area, I saw the Camp Director. We were the only two there. He looked at the Jams. He looked at my bandaged arm. Then he looked at me.

He walked up and put his arm across my shoulder. We walked towards my tent.

“You should know that on nights with full moons I rarely sleep. I tend to wander the camp. Last night I saw a pair of moons that were not in the sky. They belonged to one of my staff who was making his way back to his tent.”

The look in my eyes must have conveyed the fear I had at that time.

“Greatness attracts greatness. That was evident this week with you and Mason. This coming week I am going to lighten your work load so that you can process and think about what happened. It will also give you time to grieve his leaving. We all need time to grieve when we lose the one we love.”

He dropped his arm from my shoulder, gave me a hug, and then turned and walked out of the campsite.