The Star

MB, anal, oral, bd, humil, spank, nc
  • 01
  • 02
  • 03
  • 04
  • 05
  • 06
  • 07
  • 08
  • 09
  • 10
  • 11
  • 12
  • 13
  • 14
  • 15
  • 16
  • 17
  • 18
  • 19


Roby knew he was in trouble the moment his folks pulled away from Camp Gung Ho. He stood there in the middle of the parking lot, feeling really alone. Roby had never been to camp. In fact, he did not even want to go to camp, but his parents wanted him to take a break from work, the business, show business.

Roby was a young TV star. You did not have to look at Roby long to see what made him a star—his looks. He was stunning. You could not help but notice. He was eleven years old, but already a veteran of many television series and movies.

The first thing that struck you about Roby was his hair. It was blonde-blonde, about as blonde as could be without being white, and strikingly long—long in the back almost down to his shoulders, long on the sides totally covering his ears, and long in front, worn straight to the top of his eyes. His large green eyes were a perfect complement to the blonde-blonde hair.

His face could best be described as all boy in a pretty sort of way. The light sprinkling of freckles was a perfect addition to the all-boy look. Roby was small for his age, which was perfect for TV since he could play younger parts, but his proportions—his legs, ass, body—all were absolutely everything you could want in a boy. He was absolutely stunning. That is why TV loved him—and why boy lovers loved him!

The fact was that Roby needed the break from work, from the admiring adults, the demanding fans, all the hoopla, the attention, but camp was not what he had in mind, even though he did like fishing.

The camp seemed especially strange. Everyone from the camp director to the kids stared at him, some of them with obvious contempt for his celebrity, others with the look that made him nervous. It was the look that boys often give to girls.

Actually, this was one of the problems that he never expected would go with being a star. At first, Roby loved the fan mail, especially from love-struck teenage girls. It made him feel important. However, when he received letters from the queers—men that loved boys, he just could not understand this. What could they possibly see in him? His agent usually screened these letters out of his mail, but he knew it was there.

Then there were the times when he was fooling with his computer—something that he loved to do—he would often stumble across newsgroup postings asking for nude or shirtless pictures of Roby Green. Like sure, there are naked pictures of him floating all over the place! The fact was that his father did not even permit him to be photographed without a shirt.

There was one time when his father had gone into another room during a photo shoot with Teen World that the photographer had talked him into unbuttoning his shirt. It sounded kind of exciting to Roby at the time—something for his teeny-bopper girl fans.

Little did he know that this picture would be a sensation among the queers. All the boy love sites passing on the peek-a-boo picture, which just barely showed his belly button. All the newsgroups clamored for more, but his father threw such a fit that there would never be such an indiscretion again. Now he was always buttoned, always classy.

This classiness made him overdressed for camp. His father, always fearing photographers, had insisted that he dress nice for camp, just in case. So here he was in his teen model clothes, a white turtleneck shirt with an unbuttoned long-sleeved blue shirt over it and tan dress pants with belt and sneakers walking around a camp filled with kids wearing t-shirts and shorts. He looked great, but it was hot, and he did stand out in his overdressed outfit.

“How are you doing, Roby?” It was the camp director, Mr. Kennedy, that he had just met. “Where are you going?”

Roby explained that he was looking for his cabin so he could get changed into something more camplike. Roby was surprised, even shocked when Mr. Kennedy put his hand on Roby’s belly and rubbed it while talking to him.

“Well, I think you look just fine, great, as a matter of fact.”

Roby immediately got goosebumps at this unexpected familiar handling, and he pulled away.

“Well, I want to change anyway,” Roby stammered.

“Well, if you need anything at all, you come to see me, okay?”

‘Fat chance of that happening. This guy’s got to be queer,’ thought Roby.

Roby found his cabin, unlucky number thirteen. When he entered the cabin, his heart dropped. The kids in the cabin, about a dozen of them, were lounging around. They were all a lot older than Roby, probably about fifteen or sixteen, at least—some of them were older than that! Mr. Kennedy had said that he was going to take special care of Roby by putting him in a special cabin, but why this?

The reaction of the boys was even worse. They seemed to take an immediate dislike to Roby. They seemed to want to bring him down to their level, to get the ‘haughty little pre-teen idol,’ yet they had a hungry look like they could not wait to get their hands on this cute little piece of ass. They were cat-calling and whistling towards him.

“Well, look at the pretty boy.”

“Hey, it’s fresh meat.”

Roby’s skin crawled at the way they were staring at him, as though he was a girl, and they were construction workers! That was the only way to describe it. The oldest of the group, a big guy named Tony, came over to Roby, and the others were gathering around with him. Before long, Roby was surrounded with no way to escape. He wanted to cower like a trapped animal, but he did not want to show how scared he was.

“Hi, guys, I’m Roby Green.”

Tony immediately cut him off. “We know who the fuck you are. We watch TV. Boy, you are pretty. Let’s see what you got, sweet thing.”

“What do you mean?” asked Roby, even though he had a pretty good idea what he meant.

“Show us your pecker, sweetie,” shouted Tony.

The others howled their agreement.

“I’m not going to do that…” started Roby.

He began to cry.

The cabin suddenly erupted in a loud “whoa” from the boys indicating that Tony’s authority had been challenged.

Tony stated that Roby had a choice. He could show his little dick to them voluntarily, or they would take a look themselves. Panic struck at this point, and Roby quickly asserted that he would go to Mr. Kennedy if they so much as laid a finger on him.

The group let out a loud laugh as Tony said, “Get him, boys!”