John Romero - Coed camp

Dan bumped against Marsha going out the door. He easily recognized her body even in the darkness, and the heavy melon tit that his elbow brushed against. But tonight it didn't excite him, and he was sure it did nothing to her. They were all in the same boat, of like mind, a group of adults trying to figure out a scheme to outwit a twelve-year-old genius-devil who was creating hell in their midst.

As he stretched out on his bed to try to get some sleep, he thought, at least Buddy and I know what's in store for us. It's happened already. But what about the others? The other shoe was still to drop for them. They were all in terror of what penalty the bug-eyed monster would exact of them.

The next day was tense, and the day after that. They assembled at midnight again, in the darkness of Stein's bedroom.

"Well," Stein said heavily, "it was my day in the barrel. I had to take him down to the kitchen this afternoon and have Mrs. Rogers make him a super-king-size meal, complete with cake, pie, soda pop, and everything else. Frankly, I expected you to have him in the sick ward, Marsha."

"No such luck," she replied somberly. "He must have a digestive system like an ostrich."

"Mrs. Rogers looked at me like I was some kind of nut," Stein said. "I explained that it was his birthday, but I know she didn't believe me."

Again Andy proposed murder. "We could drown him out there in the lake, Buddy or me," he explained, "and there'd be no marks of violence."

"Not a chance," Buddy snapped back irritably. "First place, he doesn't go in for swimming or water sports. And when I'm rowing him around, he's in my charge and I'm a qualified lift-saver and nobody would believe it could be an accident."

Andy shut up.

The conference was sadly like the preceding one. Nobody came up with a good idea. Dan noticed that Marsha sat in deep concentration through it all. As they went out into the night, a bit brighter than before because the moon was now out from behind the scattering clouds, she clutched his arm.

"Dan," she whispered, "I believe I've got an idea. Come by the infirmary in the morning just as soon as you get away from the tennis courts."

"Okay," he promised, and they parted.

His sleep was troubled that night, and his performance on the tennis courts next morning was listless. Carol and Cynthia lingered after the lessons were over.

"What's up, coach?" asked the green-eyed redhead. "You look like warmed-over death."

"Didn't you like our fun and games, coach?" Cynthia asked. By daylight he saw that she was a prematurely developed young girl, with the face and body of a woman years older. And damned pretty.

"I'm in a little trouble right now, girls," he said. "So I'm having to be a good boy. But I'll be with you in a few days. Okay?"

"Okay," they chorused, and went off at a run.

Dan hurried down to the infirmary, first passing by the arts and crafts building to make sure Pete Mordant was in there.

"Come on in the bedroom, Dan," Marsha said, looking around carefully to make sure no one else was in sight.

From her tone he knew this was not for hanky-panky, but for business. She closed the door behind them and locked it. The bedroom was dim, lighted only by what daylight filtered through the heavy drapes drawn over the windows. Marsha sat on the chaise lounge and motioned for Dan to sit beside her.

"I'm beginning to get an idea, Dan, and I want to try it on you. I think we'll be able to work out something between just the two of us much better than batting it around in the whole group."

She leaned even closer to him, and dropped her voice to just above a whisper. "How old is Pete?"

"He's twelve," Dan answered, wondering what she was getting at.

"Right. Now keep in mind, although he's a genius, smarter than all of us put together so far, he's still a twelve-year-old kid."

"Right," Dan repeated, still not getting any light.

"What has he demanded so far?" she went on.

Dan thought. "Well, he's made Buddy take him out in the boat. He made me drive him to town to see a movie. And he made Stein get him a super-size meal."

"Don't you see it, Dan?" She looked at him intently, her blue eyes burning into his own.

He was blank at first, then he saw the pattern. "Of course," he exclaimed. "He's satisfying all a kid's desires. Movies, a boat ride, a big meal." Then he frowned. "But l don't see where that's getting us, Marsha."

Her frown matched his own. "You're going into medicine, Dan. Surely you've had some psychology already. What else about a kid. Think! Think about a bright, unscrupulous kid."

Dan thought. He thought of bright young kids who had-committed murders and things worse. He looked at Marsha, horror in his eyes. "I see. He's got no conscience. When he gets tired of his kid's desires, he'll go to cruelty. Sadism. The way a kid gets his kicks pulling an insect apart, or beating a frog into a pulp."

"That's it," she said wearily.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed softly. "What do you think he'll do first?"

"He's done it already," she said, looking at him with fear and anger mixed in her expression. She got up and went to the chest of drawers against the wall. Opening the top drawer, she felt beneath some clothes and pulled out a large brown envelope. She opened it and pulled out the familiar size photo and handed it to Dan.

He looked at it. Pete's usual skill was revealed in the eight by ten color picture. In the picture Sonya Plummer had her head between the widespread thighs of a slim young camper girl. They were both naked, and the girl's extreme youth was clear from her tiny high-thrusting tits, as small as cupcakes, and the narrow patch of fine hair around her little-cunt. Sonya's sturdy body looked big by comparison as she lay with her dark auburn head pressed against the slender thighs and her tongue, incredibly long, licking at the narrow pussy of the girl.

"Christ!" Dan exclaimed. "I'd never have thought Sonya was a bull-dyke."

Marsha let her stiff lips curve into a smile. "Don't be so quick to judge, Danny boy. She's not a hard-core dyke. She's maybe bisexual, and mainly she wants men. Ask Buddy. It just happens that the little creep got her in this situation."

Dan looked at the picture again, then handed it back to Marsha who tucked it back in the envelope and put it back in its hiding place beneath her clothes. "But you said his sadism has started already."

She sat down by him again, partly facing him. "Maybe sadism is too strong a word for what he's done-so far. But it appears to be shaping up to worse. He has a hyperactive imagination, and he knows a lot."

She hesitated, then said, "He forced Sonya to let him bugger her. He fucked her in her anus."

Dan stared at her incredulously. "Stein said he was too young to be interested in sex."

"Straight sex, yes. But the variations commonly considered perversions, that would excite him. Sonya came in and told me about it right away. She was mad enough to strangle the little monster, but when he showed her the picture, she turned into water and did just what he ordered her to do. Somehow he got the name and address of her fiance in New York. He threatened to send a copy to him, and of course, one to C-C."

She grinned faintly, a glimmer of mischief in her blue eyes as she looked at Dan. "Fortunately, he's built like a twelve-year-old, too, and a rather small twelve-year-old. If he were hung like you, Danny boy, Sonya wouldn't be able to sit down for a week. Even so, she said it hurt her bung-hole pretty badly."

Dan was thinking. "That's right," he recalled. "That afternoon I saw the gang-bang in the storeroom of the arts and crafts building, when I came out, I saw Pete sneaking away. He must've got a picture of that, too. And one of the guys banged the girl in the grommet. That probably gave Pete the idea."