The Boys of Summer

The secret clubhouse was deep in the woods, well off any of the main trails. It was highly secretive, and the boys kept the location strictly among themselves. No parent or outsider had ever seen it or even knew about it. Every year, during the long hot summer months, the boys were drawn to the woods and their secret clubhouse. There was something wild and unknown about the unexplored territory of the forest at the edge of town, and its many caves, cliffs and creeks. They made paths through the deep expanses of wood, tromping down wild grasses, weeds and clearing out fallen tree limbs and branches. They tied a knotted thick rope to an old oak tree so they could swing on the rope and fall into the cool water of the crooked creek. They camped out in the woods, made campfires and roasted marshmallows on long spindly branches.

And the clubhouse was their pride and joy. They had first made the crude wooden clubhouse as young teenagers and had continued to work on it and improve it over the years. They hauled in tools and wood and put in a wooden floor. They rebuilt the roof twice over the years, repairing and plugging the holes that developed after every strong rainstorm. They knocked down one wall and expanded the clubhouse, making it roomy and airy. They made crude wooden chairs and used stumps and logs for benches and tables. They brought in coolers, candles and even a gasoline-powered generator for lighting lamps after dark.

The path to the clubhouse was well camouflaged and only the chosen few knew the way to the secret front entrance. Several large banyan trees that had grown together covered the entire wooden structure with their swooping limbs and heavy foliage. Vines and other plants had grown over the outside walls and roof, adding to the almost invisible nature of the secret clubhouse. And the structure was almost a mile into the forest, far away from any main trail, so that any noise or light could not be seen by anyone tramping through the woods. The clubhouse was the perfect retreat for the boys to get away from the prying eyes of parents and older siblings.

When they were younger, they played capture the flag and war games in the woods for hours. They used the clubhouse as their headquarters. As the years passed and they matured, they used the clubhouse to smoke cigarettes and flip eagerly through stolen Penthouse magazines. As they got even older, they would sneak beer and their parents' alcohol from the house, bring it to the clubhouse where they could taste the forbidden nectar until they were giggly and drunk. They even experimented with pot that one boy had stolen from an older brother.

From the beginning they had started a secret club, and it had a very exclusive membership. The membership ebbed and flowed, depending on which boy moved away, which boy stopped hanging with the group, and which new boy was initiated as part of the club. As they got older, the membership waned. Boys in their late teens had more important things to do than explore the woods. But the boys who stayed in the group still enjoyed using the clubhouse. It was a place to get away from parents, to smoke and drink and swear and pretend to be an adult without being treated like a kid. The clubhouse held a large quantity of porno magazines, stacked in one corner of the wooden floor. The boys even imagined bringing a special girl to the clubhouse, to make out with and perhaps even go all the way. But no one had yet violated the code and brought a non-member to the secret clubhouse.

By the time the final summer of high school had rolled around, and each boy had finally reached the age of 18, there were only four regular members left. That last summer, with Brendan on vacation, Peter, Neal and David planned several campouts at the clubhouse in the hazy warm summer days in August. They knew it would be the last summer before full-time jobs or college started. During these campouts, the boys talk incessantly about girls and sex and the desire to get laid. Paging through the porn magazines late into the evenings of their campouts, they would laugh and stare at the naked women, making boasts, their cocks rock hard in their jean shorts. They took turns reading the Penthouse letters aloud – incredible stories of sex and orgies and all kinds of fascinating fetishes.

One late afternoon, as they were heading back to the clubhouse on a trail through the woods, they made an unusual discovery. A woman was sitting on the bank of a creek. As they approached down the path in a single file line, they could see she was nearly as old as their mothers, perhaps a bit younger, and that she was rubbing her ankle. She had dirty blonde hair to her shoulders and wore shorts and a t-shirt, white socks and tennis shoes. When the three boys spotted her, they approach cautiously, wondering who this woman was and why she was trespassing in their woods.

Hearing them approach, the woman looked up, seemingly relieved. "Hello! Over here! Maybe you could help me…" She had blue eyes and fair skin, a deep summer tan, and they could see she was very attractive, if 20 years older than they. The boys approached, looking at her lying on the bank of the creek rubbing her ankle, saying nothing. She had long slender legs and looked like she was in good shape.

"I was taking a hike," the woman said, explaining," and I tripped. As I was crossing this creek, I tripped on a tree root. I seem to have sprained my ankle. I don't think it's broken. But it's throbbing."

The boys stood around where she sat, looking down at the offending ankle. It looked a bit swollen and reddish.

"It really hurts," the woman continued. "I hope I didn't break anything. I don't think I can walk on it. I can barely stand." Her face looked flush with the effort she had been making in the heat. "Maybe one of you could go for help. I don't think I can walk out of here. Do any of you have a cell phone?"

"Let's have a look," Peter said, crouching down. He placed his hand on her tender ankle. Yes, it was starting to swell. It looked like a nasty sprain, but nothing seemed broken. It didn't appear that she would be able to put much pressure on it. Peter looked at the woman's slender tan legs. His eyes drifted over her full breasts, and he could see the outline her bra was making against her tight t-shirt.

"My name is Emma," the woman offered. The boys introduced themselves.

The sun was going down, and Peter looked up scanning the horizon. "We could probably carry you out of here. Back to your car."

"Are you sure?" Emma asked. "I wish I had my cell phone. I could have called for help."

After a few moments discussion, Peter told Emma that they would help her out. With Neal and David on either side of her, they helped Emma to her feet. She was able to lean on their shoulders and keep her leg off the ground. Peter led them down the path, and the boys helped Emma to follow. The sun continued to fall.

Emma was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she had fallen and hurt herself. Embarrassed that she was alone, and had to rely on these boys to help her. As she leaned on David and Neal and limped trying to keep weight off her bad ankle, she started to like the feeling of the strong lean boys as they helped her, despite her embarrassment. They were handsome boys, and seemed so polite and eager to help. She thought about repaying them once she was back at the car. She wondered how much cash she had in her purse.

After awhile, they came to a split in the path and they made their way into denser undergrowth. Emma wondered if they were lost. This didn't seem to be the way back to the trailhead and back to her car. Darkness was falling and she didn't want to compound her bad situation by getting lost with these teenagers.

"Don't worry," Peter said, as if reading her troubled expression. "This is a shortcut. We know these woods well."

They continued into undergrowth and it seemed like they weren't on any path at all. The going went slower and Emma felt the branches and undergrowth tugging at her as they moved through the dense woods. Soon, they reached the hidden clubhouse, and Emma was amazed as Peter opened the secret door to the simple wooden structure. It was so well hidden. She wondered why they were stopping, thinking perhaps the boys had some water or a cell phone hidden in this little wooden structure. Wordlessly, Neal and David helped Emma into the clubhouse, and helped her sit on a wooden stump that served as a stool. She felt glad to sit down, and the clubhouse offered a cool, shady respite. Looking around, she was struck by how big and roomy the cabin was. And it had been nearly invisible from just feet away when they approached it.

Neal and David were sweating from half carrying Emma, and Peter handed water bottles all around from a cooler on one side of the clubhouse. The water was warm but wet. After Emma drank deeply she said, "This is a neat place you have here." She glanced over at the stack of porno magazines in the corner, surprised that such nice clean-cut boys would have possession of them. But she thought it best not to say anything. She guessed these boys were 16 or 17 years old, and was surprised to learn they had all recently turned 18. She did not have children of her own, and figured she must be out of practice guessing boys' ages.

After a short rest, Emma suggested that they get moving again, noting how late it was getting and that the light was ebbing. Peter responded by lighting a few candles. As he lit four then eight then 10 candles, the clubhouse was filled with flickering light.

"You know," Peter said, "it might help to rig up some sort of carrying device for that ankle of yours. Some sort of stretcher or something."

Emma considered this, but thought it was unnecessary. They had been making good progress with her leaning on the two boys, and she kind of liked feeling them supporting her. She looked upward and started worrying again at how late it was getting.

But Peter had gotten up and started making knots in a rope. Emma sipped her water bottle and watched as he expertly made a few loops with knots in the rope. She wondered if he had been in the Boy Scouts.

"We could tie one end to your wrist," he was saying…and before she knew it, Peter had slipped one end of the looped rope around her right wrist and pulled the rope taunt.

"I don't get it," Emma said, watching with a puzzled look on her face.

But as she spoke, Neal had taken her left arm and placed it around her back, where Peter tied the other loop around her left wrist. She let her arm go limp so Neal could manipulate it, trying to comprehend how this was going to help them carry her. Peter pulled the rope tight, and Emma suddenly realized that her hands were tightly secured by the rope at the small of her back. Confused, she wondered how this was going to help.

"I don't get it. What are you doing?" she asked, thinking that this pulley system they were rigging was not going to help her walk any better. She tugged her wrists against the ropes, trying to move her arms but she was completely secure. The position of her hands and the tightness of the rope around her wrists made her shoulders move forward and her breasts push out from her chest.

"Well, it's like this, Emma. You're our prisoner now," Peter said. She looked at him closely, trying to understand the joke.

"What-" she started to say, but David had slipped around her from behind. She felt him feed another rope through her upper arms several times and then tie the rope off, securing her upper arms.

That's when she began to struggle. She arched her back and rotated her shoulders trying to get loose, but she was securely tied. As she struggled against the ropes at her wrists, she tried to stand, but pain in her ankle shot through her leg and she quickly sat back down.

"What are you doing?" she asked again. And then she decided to try and negotiate, "Look, back at the car, I have money in my purse. I'll pay you money. Please. Untie me."

Peter reached forward and together with Neal held her as she struggled to get free, and David put his knee into her back from behind. He forced a bandana into her mouth, and gagged her, quickly knotting the ends of the cloth behind her head. Emma tried to yell, to scream into the bandana, but all she was able to make was a muffled sound. She couldn't believe what was happening. Fear gripped her heart. She knew she was in the middle of deep woods with no one around. She knew it was getting dark. A moment ago, she had felt so safe with these teenage boys. They seemed to be such nice polite boys. But now she was turning white with fear. What were they planning?

"Now Emma, if you don't fight us, if you play along, you won't get hurt. We're just going to have a little fun," Peter was saying. "The fact is, we've all wanted a girl for a long time. A woman. And you'd make the perfect woman to experiment with. You play along and we'll let you go. We'll make sure you get safely back to your car."

Emma looked into his dark eyes, her fear building. She felt so helpless and alone. She moaned into the gag, tried to talk, to reason with him, but only muffled sounds came forth. The tight rope was cutting into the flesh of her wrists as she tried to free herself.

"Let's look at her tits!" said David excitedly. Emma moaned into the gag and again tried to struggle against the ropes that held her hands. That's what they have in mind, she thought to herself.

"Now, now, Emma. Don't fight it," Peter said. She felt him pull up her t-shirt from the waist, exposing her white lace bra. She flushed, embarrassed and humiliated that these boys were seeing her.

"Wow," said Neal breathlessly. "Look at that! She's got nice tits." He was almost whispering in his lust. Emma was aware that the three teenagers were staring at her bra and seeing the tops of her full breasts as her t-shirt was pulled up and resting on top of her chest. She struggle against the ropes, but was very aware of their eyes all staring at her, seeing her heaving breasts as she struggled. At the same time, something about their youthful lust and their eyes seeing her excited her. This feeling, this sensation of raw arousal, surprised her as the boys hovered around her looking. She wondered how far this would go, how bad these boys were, and whether she would tell at the end of her ordeal. She wondered if they would hurt her, or just use her and let her go. Despite her outrage, embarrassment and fear, she was acutely aware of her arousal, an excitement of knowing that she was the object of their lust and desire. She struggled and kicked with her one good foot and tried to yell again into the gag. She could feel the rope holding her wrists, holding her upper arms tight. She could feel her breasts pushed forward into her bra, knowing that the tops of her breasts were very visible to the boys.

Peter produced a pocketknife, and as the other two boys held her down as she struggled, he cut her t-shirt off at the seam. She heard the ripping sound of the material and felt her t-shirt being pulled away. She was very self-conscious as she was repositioned on the stump in her shorts and bra. The boys were staring at her full breasts nestled in her tight bra. She was aware that her nipples were hard and straining through the thin fabric of her bra. She remembered that the bra she was wearing was lacy and nearly see-through, and she could feel her nipples hardening as they stared at her. She was embarrassed and aroused at the same time.

Peter reached over and, using the tip of the knife, quickly sliced open the thin material between her two bra cups. The cups stayed on her breasts hanging loosely. She struggled, but was careful not to struggle too much and lose her bra cups. She didn't want these boys seeing her bare breasts. As they watched her struggle, her breasts jiggled and swayed, and the boys seemed mesmerized watching her full breasts move and dance, with her hard thick nipples poking through the thin material. With the boys' eyes on her, Emma felt her arousal building along with her humiliation. She felt her pussy growing increasingly wet, almost hoping that her bra would become dislodged, revealing her bare breasts, and giving these horny young teenagers a show.

She didn't have to wait long. Peter reach out again and yanked her bra off her breasts, and suddenly she was topless, her full breasts and erect nipples in full view. Her pink nipples were rock hard and swollen, and the boys all stared at her breasts. She could see them using their palms to push down erections in their tight jean shorts, or push their hard penises to one side of their shorts. She knew they were getting aroused seeing her, and that made her aroused, too. Her eyes pleaded with them to let her go and she hollered into the gag, twisting her arms, trying to get free of the rope that held her. She wanted to be free, to get away, but at the same time, she wanted them to see her. She wanted to punish them, to hurt them, to tell their parents or the police. At the same time, she felt her pussy becoming alarmingly wet. She felt her sex throbbing as they stared and tormented her.

As she struggled, the boys took turns feeling her bare breasts, caressing her, using their fingers to tug on her hard swollen nipples. She felt hands all over her breasts, many eager hands and fingers, greedily touching her, squeezing her. She realized that these were probably the first breasts they had ever touched. Hands were all over her, male hands, touching and squeezing and feeling. It felt so good on her flesh and she moaned into the gag and continued to struggle.

Soon the boys were taking turns licking her hard nipples, sucking them into their mouths, playing the tips of their tongues over her rock hard nipples. She had David on one breast, sucking her nipple, and Neal on the other licking up and down, flicking his hungry tongue over her swollen tip. She couldn't believe what was happening, but had never had the sensation of two boys on her at once. She loved the feeling, but felt humiliated and outraged at the same time.

The eager boys pushed her down on the rough wooden floor and as Neal and David held her, Peter took off his jean shorts and underpants and put his erection between her full breasts. When she saw it, she was surprised at how hard and long his cock looked. As she struggled, Peter pressed her breasts together and moved his penis back and forth between her soft breasts, fucking her tits. "Oh god, this feels great," Peter said, his hard cock easily sliding up and down, back and forth between her milky breasts. The boys took turns, each taking off his shorts and fucking her breasts with their hard cocks.

"Let's take her shorts off," David suggested. As she struggled and yelled into the gag, she felt hands pulling off her tennis shoes, pulling off her socks, pulling off her shorts, and finally, humiliatingly, pulling off her panties. She felt the boys hold open her legs, and stare at her open pussy, taking turns feeling her with their greedy fingers. She felt fingers penetrating her sex, touching her, pressing deeply into her pussy. She felt her pussy gush with wetness as the boys took turns exploring her sex with their fingers. She looked away, knowing they were staring at her, knowing they were seeing her pussy. She was humiliated and aroused at the same time. Part of her wanted them to do this, to touch her, to see her. But fear still gripped her, and she trembled thinking about what these bad boys might do to her.

"Look how wet her cunt is," Peter said as David and Neal held her thighs wide apart and he poked two fingers deep into her pussy. Peter held his fingers up triumphantly. They could all see his fingers glistening in the candlelight. Peter then rubbed his wet fingers under Emma's nose and over her face so she could smell and feel her own girl juices. She flushed with embarrassment and outrage, and she could smell her own scent. Peter's fingers moved in and out of her wet pussy, fucking her, as she tried to close her thighs. But the other boys held her wide open. His fingers penetrated her again and again, moving in as deep as he could roughly push them. Peter raped her pussy with his fingers, using one, then two fingers to penetrate her. Then, he forced three fingers inside her, and she felt her tightness stretching as he fucked her with almost his whole hand. The boys all eagerly watched as his fingers penetrated her tight wet pussy again and again.