“Indians!” Cody said as the yipping howl penetrated the night.

“Bullshit,” Tyler retorted. “It’s just a coyote.”

“No. Seriously guys, I saw this movie or TV show where the Indians made wild animal sounds as they sneaked up on the wagon trains.”

“Yeah, well we saw lots of coyotes today but no Indians,” Tyler reminded him, pulling his sleeping bag tighter against the evening chill of the high desert.

Cody and Tyler, along with Mark and Conan were on a weeklong Jeep safari with their parents. It started as a camp-out for the off-road enthusiasts but had morphed into an annual tradition for the four families. A few years ago the boys had loved it, but puberty had changed their priorities to where by now they simply endured it, and next year would probably have something much more important to do that hopefully wouldn’t involve their parents. In previous years they had slept in the big dome tents with their mommies and daddies like proper families, but now it was a lot cooler for the fourteen and fifteen year old boys to group by themselves a hundred yards away from the main campsite where they could share a beer purloined from one of the coolers and discus subjects not approved by the parental units. They were all in their sleeping bags, minutes away from sleep.

“Yeah, well, anyway the Indians would sneak up to the wagon trains at night and kill all the adults, right? And then they’d take the girls back to their camp and let the bucks go at them.”

“Being an Indian back then would have been sweet,” Conan said, fondling his cock and thinking of what all he’d like to do with a chick.

“Oh yeah?” Tyler asked, “What’d they do with the guys. The boys, I mean? Let the squaws fuck them?”

“Hey,” Mark interrupted. “Do you know what you call an Indian with three nuts?”

“Uh, what?”

“A buck and a half, yuk yuk yuk! You know what they call an Indian with no nuts? A squaw!”

“Yeah, well anyway,” Cody resumed his lecture on Indian affairs, “They’d take the boys back to camp and cut their nuts off.”

“No way!” Tyler said, slowly slipping his hand inside his shorts to cup his balls.

“Yeah, really.” Cody persisted. “That way they could help the squaws out around camp while the men were out hunting or whatever. Also, some of the men who didn’t have women or who’s squaws were like sick or something could still, you know, do it.”

“Ew! That must have sucked big time!” Mark rolled over to where he faced away from the other guys and pulled down the waistband of his skivvies. “I’m going to sleep now,” he said, idly scratching himself.

Cody didn’t think that being kidnapped by Indians would have sucked; true, getting your nuts hacked off wouldn’t have been so great, but being forced to take cocks into your mouth and up the ass day after day would have been great, maybe even been worth getting castrated. He slid his skivvies half off and started fondling his cock. He’d brought both of his socks into the bag and tonight he’d need them both. He hadn’t taken PE with any of these guys and had never showered with them or seen them naked, but today he got a good look at Mark’s stuff when he had squatted down to take a shit, and he definitely liked what he’d seen. Mark had seen him watching, and instead of covering himself he just sort of smiled.

Cody rolled over to where he was facing towards the other boys and in the faint starlight he could see that Mark’s sleeping bag was moving very slightly with the rhythm that adolescents know so well: A guy boning himself while pretending to sleep. Cody continued to stroke himself and contemplate how big Mark got, how big a wad he shot, and what it might taste like as it flooded his mouth, and rather it would hurt if he took it up his ass. He finally popped off into the sock and then closed his eyes, and as he drifted towards sleep he wished he had the balls to make a move on Mark.

The raiding party hit right after midnight. They weren’t Indians riding horseback and shooting old Winchesters; these guys looked like outcasts from The Road Warrior and they drove four-wheel drive pickups and Jeeps and they had machine guns. The youngest was barely twenty and the oldest a gray-bearded patriarch. The only thing they had in common were the red bandanas tied apache style around their foreheads, either as a gang symbol or for quick identification should a firefight erupt. They quickly rounded up the four youths and eight adults and made them stand in their underwear while they searched for any hidden radios.

These raiders weren’t out for settlers’ blood, nor were they interested in rape or murder. They were after the highly modified Jeeps, each of which would fetch over thirty thousand dollars when parted out or renumbered and sold. “You, and you, come here.” The leader pointed to Cody and Mark. “You’re coming with us as our hostages. The rest of you get into the tents and stay there all day. The Sheriff’s rescue people will be here about this time tomorrow, and they’ll tell you where to pick up these two kids.” A brief burst of machinegun fire over their heads quieted the two mothers who objected to their sons’ kidnapping, and then the two boys were blindfolded and bound and thrown into the backs of the pickups and covered with some old tarps.

Cody didn’t have a clue which way they were headed, in fact, he really didn’t know for sure where they had been in the first place. He lost all track of time, but eventually became aware that they were driving on pavement instead of the rough dirt trails. The steady drone of the highway was finally replaced by the stop and go traffic noise of a city, and when they finally removed his blindfold he realized that they were in a wrecking or junk yard of some kind. He looked around, hoping to see Mark, but saw only the stony faces of his assailants. “I have to, uh, pee. Bad,” He finally said, crossing his legs with discomfort.

“Okay kid, let her fly,” one of the raiders said, reaching out with his knife and slicing Cody’s underwear free. “Anywhere you like is fine.” Cody showered daily during the school year with three dozen other guys and was comfortable with his body, but he now faced with every adolescent’s worst nightmare: being naked in front of a bunch of staring adults, and despite his straining bladder he couldn’t release a drop until he turned away. His hands were still bound behind his back so he had little control over his aim and he ended up hosing down his feet, but the relief was immense and he stood there pissing what seemed like an impossible amount before turning back around to face his captors.

“Feel better, kid?” The leader asked, then nodded his head at the others, who jumped on Cody and quickly wrestled him to the ground and pried his legs apart so that a thin cord could be tightly wrapped around his scrotum. Cody looked up to see Mark approaching. He was naked except for the Red Bandana of Treachery now tied around his forehead, and his face bore the familiar sly smile. He was also hard, and to Cody’s amazement, huge. At least as big as the guys on some of the Internet sites that he wasn’t supposed to know anything about.

Mark saw Cody accept a large folding knife from one of the other raiders, then he felt the boy’s hand grasp his balls and felt the edge of the knife against the this skin of his ballsack and then Mark’s cock was in Cody’s mouth and his balls were pumping into his face. Cody had imagined taking his friend’s soft dick gently into his mouth and slowly sucking him to erection until the resultant product gently flooded his mouth with warm sweetness, but the huge cock was forced deep into his throat and the orgasm was a hot chocking rotten tasting jet that almost suffocated him and overflowed his mouth onto his chin.

And then Mark stood over him, still smiling and still hard, and Cody was forced to his knees and then bent forward. He could feel a couple of insistent exploratory probes and then a blinding flash of pain as he was hilted, and finally the other boy’s hot breath on the back of his neck as he rutted. When Mark was finally satiated Cody was turned over onto his back and his legs held splayed. Mark pulled hard on the cord tied around Cody’s nuts, forcing them far away from his body, and made a quick slice with the knife.

Cody closed his eyes and let out a scream that came from a place deep inside him that he never even knew existed.

“Dude!” Mark shook him. “Wake up! What’s wrong?” Cody slowly shook himself awake. It was just after dawn and Mark was standing over him, wearing only his skivvies. Cody looked around and realized that they were alone.

“Where are Conan and Tyler?” He asked, sitting up and looking around.

“The coyotes came in real close, right after you went to sleep. They chickened out and moved over by the Jeeps,” Mark explained, pointing to where the four Jeeps were still parked. “That must have been one hell of a dream, Dude.” Mark smiled slyly.

“It was,” Cody admitted, relieved that it had only been a nightmare. That didn’t explain his missing skivvies, though, and why his bootlace was knotted tightly around his nutsack, nor the rotten taste in his mouth and the dried secretions on his chin.