Testimonial

Fine. I know I shouldn't talk about this. But I'm gonna tell you. Just you. It'd be my ass if this got leaked, so keep it secret. Keep your private info safe.

A lot of wealthy and well-connected people send their children to summer camps. Signing up was a serious affair for us. I still remember how my parents fussed and dressed their best for the interview. Yes, my parents were inspected and scrutinized despite my father being an alumnus. The whole affair was important for my future, they said. They didn't say that summer camps in general provide children with their first sexual awakenings. This camp was no different. The only difference was that it was all known, encouraged and even taught. It was as if they were breeding us to be the elites of this world. The common man's rules didn't apply.

I remember my first time there. I was 10. It was beautiful. Bright red cabins on green grass, blue skies above and bright stars unpolluted by light at night. The nature's striking beauty wasn't marred in the least by the attendees or staff. It seemed we were all well-bred and beautiful. I didn't realize it at the time, but this was entirely by design. Small as us newcomers were - roosters, we were called - we'd all grow to become tall, intelligent men. What we did all realize at the time was that we weren't alone in being exceptionally endowed. Though we each thought ourselves alone in our personal predicament, my fellow roosters and I were all already hung like grown men.

I think I miss being a rooster the most. Life was simpler. I learned to swim there at the camp and I still remember how my instructor's breasts seemed to float with her, and how embarrassed I was when she caught me looking. At night, the boys and I would read comic books under flashlight and reminisce about the day, describing our favorite councilors in sordid detail. Looking back, we were all hypersexual even at the beginning. It didn't take long before we were masturbating. Twenty of us in a lodge would typically break into groups of 5. I don't know how pornography came into the picture, though I have my suspicions. After the first week we found that nights had become as fun as the days, albeit more rambunctious. We'd jerk off, we'd compare dicks and techniques. We'd even swordfight. It didn't seem strange to use until we got back home. Of course, consecutive summers would send us straight back into these old habits. There were several metronomes in the cabins for some reason. We'd have competitions to see who could last the longest while staying with the beat. The messes we made were atrocious, but it all seemed to be cleaned up when we came back from breakfast the next morning. And yes, even at that age, most of us were shooting man-sized loads.

The place had a certain hold over me. It was the eyes and scents, I think. A month in, compulsion lead me to display myself before Andrea, the councilor with the magical, floaty tits. Seeing her seated alone at the shore, supervising us, I disregarded my modesty and came out of the water sporting a semi. My wet swim shorts stuck to me like I knew they would. I wanted so badly for her to see me. She saw instantly and clapped her hands, laughing. "Talent! Finally. Good little rooster."

A rooster has to show his aptitude and eagerness to advance. No one should take his steps for him.

I remember staring at my feet, feeling my face red and my heart pumping. She was on her feet, towering over me, smirking with her hands on her hips. Minute after minute seemed to pass, with me expecting some kind of scolding or brutal humiliation. Andrea was just waiting for another councilor to relieve her watch before dragging me away. And drag me she did; Off the beaten path and through prickling bushes, out of view of the unready roosters. Not 10 minutes later I was on my back in the woods. The 19-year-old girl woman on her knees looming over me, enveloping me in her mouth. She told me I was as big as her boyfriend back home before throating herself to the hilt. 10-year-old me was near hyperventilating on the mossy earth, prepubescent voice squeaking with desperate confusion. Winking, she came up for air and let me suck those tits she knew I was so enamored by to calm me down. It didn't. After I was spent, she lay there with me, cradling me for what felt like an hour. She would go on to show me how to kiss with tongue and for the rest of my summer would tell me how special I was while teaching me everything under the sun. My parents seemed to know everything that had transpired when they picked me up. Even mom was proud to have an  advanced  son. I still remember hiding my tears from them in the car ride home.

PART 2

The next summer's car ride there was different. I was shaking with excitement. My parents were excited for me too, though the strangeness of that fact was lost on me. I kissed them goodbye and went instantly to look for Andrea. She wasn't there. My feelings must have been known and emotional attachment and pair-bonding wasn't in my future. My parents had been cold and dismissive whenever I gushed about my sweet Andrea. I wouldn't be putting it all together anytime soon. I waited for her like a loyal pup, growing more despondent with each day.

To make matters worse, I found myself fast tracked to an advanced cabin where I was the youngest by two years. It was as if my performance with Andrea had been noted and rated. "The Stallion Cabin," it was called. The free-flowing, organic horsing around of last summer had been replaced by something far more regimented and ritualized. The strange masturbatory activities of the past were refined into ritual and serious competition. Stranger yet, it was supervised by two adults, a much older man and a woman. They organized and closely supervised cabin-wide circle jerks and all manner of strange activity. They kept notes and took samples, paying special attention to me in particular.

Competitive cumshots were all the craze now. And I was winning. They scored our stamina, the force and distance of our ejaculations, they even set up targets for us to hit and gaged our accuracy. My voice hadn't yet cracked, yet I was doing remarkably well, scoring consistently among the best. I performed begrudgingly, longing for the nights when Andrea would steal me away; I missed the feel of her sweaty stomach against mine, her breasts in my face as she kissed the top of my head and pulled me by the ass into her warmth. We received badges for our performance, the first of many. I received one extra: "Nailed it!" it said. It was then I learned that Andrea had gotten pregnant and relocated.

It changed me. Den mothers and councilors knew the poor golden boy's blight and smothered me with nurturing affection. After a few weeks of that, I became jaded. The other boys were encouraged to pair up, masturbate mutually and more. My den mother was comforting me in my self imposed isolation when I presented my cock to her, bare this time. I forced it into her hand and kissed her. It was wrong, by normal standards, yet it was what she wanted. Her submission was clear to me, even at that age. It wasn't long before I was humping her face, my little hands gripping the sides of her head. I was fully sheathed in her stretched throat when I released my spunk. She took it without issue and even thanked me for it. I was learning how to take what I wanted. When a group of 16-year-old who had taken a liking to my morose attitude invited me to sneak off for a gangbang, I agreed. A chubby cook took four of us at once. Her reservations about being with someone as young as me were laughed at. We used her every hole, slapped and spat on her, blurring the lines of consent while her half-pained screams were muffled by cock. I didn't know yet that nothing at the camp was accidental.

The camp director wanted to see me the next day. My mood lead me to treat her the same way as the others, despite the respect she commanded. I remember feeling contempt towards her picture perfect office, her glasses, her papers. She was reading things about me, inquiring about my condition. She denied my advances and insisted on the importance of the meeting. I denied her my attention and used the finger fucking technique one of the older boys had taught me. It was wrong and I knew it. In my mind, I used my age to justify my actions. Can an 11-year-old boy really rape a grown woman? My fingers were smaller than that boy's, but perhaps she enjoyed that. My body must have looked ridiculous fucking her from behind. Her ass was huge, my hands and torso were tiny in comparison. It was as if a bunny were humping a bear. A sweet boy was being molded into something else.

I was never the same thereafter. In the summers that followed I became increasingly sexual and even more endowed. The badges kept flowing. I was taking my place among camp royalty. Women were platters to me and, as one might choose a snack, I decided what I'd devour based on random cravings. All shapes and sizes were available to me, feminine boys not withstanding. I had become a breeder, driven solely by the prospect of dumping my loads directly into an unprotected pussy. Though I produced enough cum to earn a special place in what was known as the overflow cabin, my fixation was clear. My cabin was the breeder's cabin. We had three den mothers, three filthy cunts constantly churning with our cum. Quickly, my disgust at the notion of sliding myself into one of their frothy holes gave way to angst and primal need. My brothers watched as I, the youngest, sunk my cock into a pool of their filth in an unholy baptism. I was an animal like them. Badges were given for fucking the camp director and impregnating five councilors.

When I returned home, my parents were beaming. I struggled to blend in with the ordinary world and they dismissed it with laughter, calling it a phase. There were complaints from my teachers about my restlessness and inability to keep my hands to myself. Summer couldn't come soon enough. My father drove me alone for the first time that next summer. He was different, suddenly blunt and crude with his comments for the first time. "Gag 'em good this year, champ," he said, proudly. I couldn't wait to be rid of him, but he unexpectedly went into the main lodge with me when we arrived. My heart stopped when we entered. Andrea was there, waiting alone in a room past the reception. I was speechless. She kissed me when she saw me. She kissed my father too. It was a long kiss.

My stilled heart was sinking. I stood petrified and watched helplessly as the woman I had been dreaming of and longing for playfully struggled to jam two cocks in her mouth. She laughed as she made the attempt and switched from sucking one to the other. In between bouts of sucking, she'd ask me about how I'd been and tell me what she had been up to. I couldn't answer. Somehow, I could feel that she knew why and enjoyed it. My father grinned when he fucked her from behind with his monster. His every vicious thrust forced me further and further down Andrea's throat. Tears streamed down her face, but when I let her up for air she just moaned and begged for more. That sweet boy she pulled into the woods had never finished on her face. She demanded that now and confessed with earnest eyes that this was he true nature. Slumped in a puddle of my own shame, I watched the two of them do every horrendous thing under the sun. I participated for another round which involved my first time fucking a woman in the ass. Then my dad left and my summer began. At the end of the summer, I'd receive a badge specifically given for fucking a girl with your father.

Two weeks passed. I wasn't participating. One of my den mothers found me in my bunk and told me my mother had arrived with provisions. This was the first time she had done that. I found her in the main lodge; Surrounded by older men who let their hands graze against her body as she smiled. All of them were senior councilors, one of them looked me straight in the face and told me that this one needed a fucking. They were all looking at me, except for her. One of us needed to, they said. Their meaning was clear, but they made it even more obvious by telling me there would be a badge in it for me. I broke. I fucked my own mother so they wouldn't and they watched as I did it. I fucked her from behind so I wouldn't have to look at her face. I fucked her hard as punishment for bringing me into this world and turning me into a freak. Mom at least spared me the further psychological torture of moaning like a whore. Stifled whimpers filled the room until I was finished. Without so much as a word, the men dispersed and my mother drove home.

We had a family day at the camp. My parents had never shown up and I had never been invited to partake in the family festivities. They showed up that year. It was my first time seeing them since our individual meetings. We spoke little and had a feast with the other families. The adults spoke while the young ones sat quieter than usual. There was a second feast after dark with only the initiated; A feast of flesh. I sat wide-eyed between my parents and we watched as a boy younger than me was sandwiched between his. Among half a dozen families we saw every possible combination of depravity: Sons, mother and fathers mainly, but there were older siblings and grandparents present as well. Piles of bodies writhed together indiscriminately. I struggled to take it in and sat asking myself what kind of people we were. Finally, my parents spoke. They took me outside and calmly explained that this was how we did things. They shared with me their views on sexuality and sin and their desire to free me from society's shackles. Any Clear and nurturing in their speech, they told me they just wanted me to be more than other men. In their eyes, I had already succeeded and they were proud of me. We went back inside and watched. All the previously tense faces were beautiful in their ecstasy. No other expectations were put to me. They left without incident and my summer brightened. I was participating again.

My return home was anxious this time. The folks picked me up and we drove home in silence. As soon as we got home, the two of them wordlessly made their way to their bedroom. I followed and closed their door behind us. No sins were left for me. My transformation was complete. Free from sexual inhibition, nothing but clear thought and success awaited. Success and more badges, apparently. Two more arrived with the director a week later. They weren't for me. I wasn't even allowed to look at them.