The Infamous Five on Kipper Island
by Tom

And now for something completely different – I hope you will read this short introduction, since if you are not familiar with the original stories the ensuing pastiche may sound like gibberish – although it could well do that anyway!

Since the 1950’s, probably millions of English boys have read the Famous Five or Secret Seven series of children’s adventures, from which at least three television series have been spawned. Basically, the stories revolve around privileged, middle class, asexual children who have highly improbable holiday adventures with the obligatory happy ending. It might even be worth seeking out a sample of an original story to put this decidedly irreverent adaptation into context, to which I will but add, if only this  had been around when I was reading the original stories!

Naturally all the usual caveats and dire health warnings apply, so you read this at your peril and should be aware that no representation of any person, animal, cadaver, mineral or vegetable, including the large beta vulgaris rubra is intended. However, should you recognise yourself at some point in the narrative, perchance in relation to a particularly unwholesome actus reus or in conjunction with any of the aforementioned just think yourself very, very lucky to be included!

Finally, as ever, all comments, ideas, suggestions, good bad or indifferent are always welcome – my apologies in advance for any typo’s you may spot. Enjoy.

tom
amias09@fastmail.fm

 

The Infamous Five on Kipper Island
Chapter 4: Able Semen Ned

It was approaching eleven o’clock the next morning when Uncle Quentin and Aunt Fanny had completed mooring the red speedboat and started to make their way up over the sandy beach towards the campsite. While the giant hamper had been left on the boat for Ned to carry up later, Aunt Fanny was clutching a paper bag containing her exquisite, home-made almond and chocolate croissants for breakfast.

On reaching the campsite they weren’t too surprised to find that there were no signs life and presumed that the young adventurers were still fast asleep. The boys in particular were recovering from a truly exhausting night having taken turns to be the one in the middle of the communal sleeping bag. That was of course after Dick had been subjected to Ned’s whim with a most enjoyable and prolonged probing by Julian’s four inch wonder, which actually was not really much larger than Ned’s roving finger. Ned for reasons of willy size, nor wishing to jeopardise the further cultivation of the relationship with the brothers had so far managed to resist any act of buggery, which  had been very hard in every sense. It stood to reason that after the siblings first consummation, further anal relations between them would be very frequent and doubtless cemented in seminal fluid. Hard as it was, Ned was biding his time knowing that his turn to cum would come eventually, even sooner than later, during which time Dick might also have begun to ejaculate.

In the other tent Anne, George and Pooper had had an equally energetic, if sticky night. The stickiness though was mainly provided by accident and from Pooper who thought he too could become a jockey and mounted Anne just as she was riding an insatiable George to the finishing line. In fact she thought it was even better than being in the dormitory with the other runners in the nightly hairbrush steeplechase.

“Hello, hello,” shrilled Aunt Fanny clasping the bag, “is there anybody here?”

That brought some muffled grunts from the boys tent which were to Uncle Quentin, his cue to make an uninvited entrance in the hope of catching somebody doing something, anything with anybody. The sight of the triple sleeping bag brought not only a smile to his face but a large lump in his trousers, pulling the top corner back he was assailed by an incredibly strong smell of adolescence, semen and more semen. Having quickly ascertained that the boys were naked and as was de rigueur for their age and naturally all very much erect, he dropped the tent flap to plunge them into semi-darkness and began groping around in an excuse to find the way out of the darkened tent.

Outside, Aunt Fanny was feeling pretty frisky herself and made an unannounced entrance to the girls tent whereby Pooper immediately tried to get up her skirt as he now thought was the norm.

“Hello girls!” she called out just as any public school games mistress might do. “My word it smells a bit sea-sidey in here, have you been fishing or something? Come on lets go down for an early dip, I’ve brought some towels.”

To be fair George and Anne were not exactly over excited at the thought, especially since they had been so rudely woken up having planned staying in the cosy, zipped  double sleeping bag for quite a while longer. Shepherding them reluctantly out into the sunshine Aunt Fanny soon had them heading down to the beach, where she suggested they swim in their knickers. However, since neither were wearing anything under the shorts they had so quickly just donned, the obvious suggestion was to swim naked which meant that Aunt Fanny enthusiastically took her clothes off in record time to join them.

Back at the camp the boys had all been satisfactorily groped, with Ned having had a bonus two fingered fingering, Uncle Quentin was outside preparing breakfast which essentially  meant simply opening the bag of croissants. A few minutes later Aunt Fanny and the girls arrived, Anne was looking particularly radiant as Aunt Fanny’s especially rough towels had certainly touched the spot, George had quite a spring in his\her step and had even borrowed a similar towel for later use.

“Now then,” said Uncle Quentin, carefully sitting down so he could partially look up Julian’s shorts, “so tell me how far have you got finding the treasure?”

“Arrr, well ” replied Pirate Ned getting into nautical character, “we’re doing alright ain’t we me bucko’s?”

“Me what?” Julian looked at him as though he were mad. “I suppose.”

“Alright then, I’ll just do the arrr’s,” said disappointed thespian Pirate Ned, “us got writ down wot it says on the walls but us can’t work it out can us?”

“What jolly awful grammar.” commented Dick feeling his dick through his pocket.

“Hhmm, I see,” Uncle Quentin sounded quite mysterious as though he knew the answer, he didn’t but found the view up Julian shorts far more interesting, “I’d better have a look then.”

“Well this is what we have so far, Uncle.” said Julian handing over the crumpled piece of paper with Dick’s scrawl and a fine selection of Bosun Ned’s dried semen stains on it. “I’m afraid Dick’s joined up writing isn’t quite as joined up as it should be.”

“Quite. I can see that,” agreed Uncle Quentin who began to very carefully examine the stains. In fact, unbeknown to the children he was a highly respected and well renowned school spunk stain expert who, before having becoming a mad professor, had in his debauched younger days been a housemaster at a well-known public school, “looks to me as though you were busy doing something else at the time you wrote this?”

Dick, blushed and giggled.

“Arrr, I told him he’d go blind!” added Bosun Ned helpfully, visualising Dick the cabin boy being in the barrel, strapped to the mast as the crew tossed and turned across the high seas.

“Disgusting! There seems a lot of it for his age!” Uncle Quentin looked quizzically at Dick’s shorts, there didn’t seem to be anything remotely protruding in support of the amount of staining. “However, Julian I want to you neatly translate what Dick has written whilst I go down to boat with Ned and we’ll bring back the food hamper.”

“Oh, don’t you need a hand?” said Julian hoping to escape the boring translation of Dick’s illegible handwriting.

“No, no… you stay here with the girls, they can probably help you,” said Uncle Quentin firmly, “we’ll only be five minutes, won’t we Ned.”

Out of sight of the campsite Uncle Quentin turned to Ned. “Are you still willing to take it up your bum if I give you a quid?”

“It’s thirty bob when I’m on holiday!” Ned smiled and adjusted his glasses. “Come on, you can afford it, ‘cause you want it bad don’t you?”

The beach was now in view and the boat visible, Uncle Quentin was caught between a rock, a hard place, a very hard cock and he did want it very badly. “Alright, thirty bob then! When we get to the boat just bend over pretend you are looking at the engine.”

“If we calls it two quid you can toss me off as well… seems a pity to waste it just squirting over the boat!”

“You little sod! Yes, alright then, two quid,” replied Uncle Quentin as they neared the boat, he suddenly stepped to one side. “Oh bugger! There’s bloody dawg shit everywhere!”

By the time they had reached the boat, Ned already had his shorts unfastened, he looked around and dropped them to display his plump bottom. “Wot time you going back then?”

“Sometime this afternoon, depends what Fanny wants. Why?”

Uncle Quentin’s unzipped fly allowed a pair of white silk, ladies cami-knickers with a lace edging to push out, pulling them aside exposed a very healthy, stout six inches.

“Mhhh…” Ned smiled appreciatively, “I was gonna say, ‘cause if you really wants to make a day of it, for another quid I’ll stick it up your bum before you goes home!”

“Let’s see if there’s time, but I’m not paying to wank you as well if you’re sticking it up!” said Uncle Quentin prising Ned’s buttocks apart and peering into the abyss. “Now when was this last used? Clean is it?”

“Ooh long time, must be nearly ten days I ‘spose! Was when that curate bloke had me at the back of the vestry,” Ned grinned, “he’s a right dirty sod, ‘cause under his fancy dress vicar outfit frock thing his trousers is undone, he says he don’t wear no pants so’s he can always have a quick wank if he sees a nice choirboy!”

“Does he indeed!” Uncle Quentin’s cock lurched upwards. “He’s never told me that!”

“Don’t you tell him I told you, mind,” said Ned grinning, “and you wanna ask him why he borrows them gert long candles they keeps there!”

“What!”

“Yeah, he says they’re just right!” Ned winked. “And he reckons the smaller ones are just the job for choirboys, says he’s got some kid lined up to test ’em for size!”

 

“Where’s that Quentin gone now?” said Aunt Fanny irritably looking around. “I thought he only went to get the picnic.”

“Here they are now.” said Dick pointing to Uncle Quentin appearing from the bushes  looking a little flushed from his exertions, a slightly limping Ned followed weighed down by a large wicker hamper and a pleasantly tender bottom.

Anne looked. “I say Uncle we’ve written it all down now, so come and have a look.”

“Well let me sit down first.” he said sitting down with Julian’s shorts in view, Ned sat down rather gingerly on a conveniently crack shaped rock.

“Well I can’t make any sense of it.” Julian, who under cover of his folded hands squeezed the end of his willy. Being a six-times-a-day boy, he had just returned from an ultra-fast ejaculation in the bushes, when in theory he had only gone for a pee.

“Thought you’d got lost.” George had noted how long it had taken him, correctly associating his absence to matters of the cock and the tell-tell bulge in his shorts.

Uncle Quentin soon changed the subject. “Right, OK well let’s have a look then.”

By the time they had all had their say, and deliberated over the coded message, it was getting on for lunch time and Aunt Fanny began laying out a veritable feast. Naturally it included such simple homemade delicacies as smoked salmon and cream cheese galettes, quails eggs pickled in turmeric, black pudding fritters with wasabi flavoured mayonnaise and of course it was all to be followed by a rich sherry trifle topped with absolutely lashings of Farmer Giles’s triple cream.

“Come on children, do tuck in.” called out Aunt Fanny arranging the shining cutlery, her drooping mammaries swinging around to concuss a flock of passing butterflies.

“I say,” chorused the children, as that’s what precocious children did, chorus, “this looks jolly sooper and you even brought another magnum of ginger pop… spiffing!”

Ned looked askance and said to himself. “I just wants a fucking pie and chips!”

Uncle Quentin had switched off, or at least was in the process of switching off, he wrestled with the foil cap on the bottle of ’48 vintage Margaux, not that he had been on the island that long, but the precocious brood invariably got the better of him. There were though some advantages he consoled himself, first the fine red wine and second, the prospect of Ned’s fat cock earning an extra pound by shagging six bells out of him later.

“Crickey what are these?” Dick held up a quails egg in turmeric, dutifully balanced delicately on his silver fork. “There really are absolutely scrumptious Aunt Fanny!”

“Oh, too kind.” Aunt Fanny turned quickly round to face Dick, narrowly missing Julian’s head with her infamous swinging mammaries. “just simple quails eggs pickled in turmeric, from a recipe I saw in the Stately Homes Weekly Banquets magazine.”

“Gosh! Golly that was jolly close!” breathed Julian.

“Too good for you lot, cocky little sods!” muttered Uncle Quentin under his breath.

“What was that you said Quentin?” asked Aunt Fanny turning back, Julian ducked.

“I said, I’ve worked all the clues out now,” he replied draining his second or was it his third glass of Margaux, “I’ll tell you what it’s about after we’ve eaten.”

“Oh whizzo, golly you are so clever Uncle.” chorused the children, as that’s exactly what polite precocious children did.

“Yes I know.” he replied pouring himself another glass. “Modest as well.”

As was only to be expected the meal was quite delicious even it did turn out to be a rather protracted affair. That was mainly due to the one glass of wine Aunt Fanny had downed which allowed her to doze off, whereas after a further two glasses Uncle Quentin had begun to become quite frisky and had fixed Julian in his sights and soon to be fixed on his finger.

“Now come and sit by me Julian,” he said in a slightly slurred manner, “and we’ll look at the clues together.”

Of course with Julian being totally naive in matters of male relationships, he knew no fear and willingly sat next to his trusted Uncle Quentin who immediately pulled him closer, his arm remaining around the taut young buttocks.

“Now look here, d’you see now it’s all been legibly rewritten,” Uncle Quentin pointed to the various characters on a fresh piece of paper, “with the exception of the N, S, E and W letters the rest are numerals so, so what does that tell you?”

After considerable thought Julian replied. “Nothing!”

“I see. Well what would this tell you?”

Julian suddenly found that a strange hand has started rubbing his back just above his buttocks, it felt very nice especially being under his top. “Ooh, ooh I like it!”

“Do you like it?” asked Uncle Quentin. “Really?”

“Yes!” the reply was unequivocal.

“I thought so,” Uncle Quentin then leant over, fortified by the Margaux whispered, “I expect you wank a lot? I did at your age, so now tell me how many times a day?”

Julian flushed, blushed, became immediately fully erect, he pushed up against Uncle Quentin and whispered proudly. “I can do it six times a day.”

“Can you now, that’s very good.” he leered in Julian’s direction. “Well then, now while I try and explain about the clues, just hold that bit of paper in front and see if you can do it right now without anybody noticing!”

“Like I sometimes do during geography at school you mean?” Julian giggled, pulled his green top out to cover the top of his shorts and pushed his hand down past the elasticated waistband at the front.

“Yes, just like that,” cooed Uncle Quentin positioning his hand, “let’s see how quietly you can do it.”

Meantime, Aunt Fanny had resurfaced and found herself captivated by Ned’s simple intellect and obscenely bulging shorts, she contrived to hold him in a stilted conversation while he in turn offered some revealing glimpses up the leg of his shorts. A few feet away George and Anne were becoming in desperate need of a little mutual manipulation and a few feet further over Dick was still feeling his dick through his shorts having decided it was time to take a trip to the bushes.

Quickly whispering to Julian that he was just going for a pee he disappeared into the bushes and moved well out of sight of the campsite. Having found a suitably secluded spot he listened and waited for a minute before pulling at the waistband of his shorts to free his three inch monster, falteringly he began to pee over the leaves.

“Right get his shorts off!” hissed George to Anne as they literally sprang from bushes and grabbed him from behind.

“No! Oh no!”

Despite his willy showering it’s golden stream in all directions the two girls soon had him pinned to the ground and with much girly giggling he found his shorts were very forcefully being removed.

“He’s got no pants on!” exclaimed Anne. “Whatever would mummy say!”

“Don’t you tell her!” squeaked Dick.

“Now Anne, you’ve got to make that willy thing work!” demanded George, woefully ignorant of boy bits or indeed of anything as to how they worked. “I think you have to rub it to get it hard.”

“It is hard!” wailed Dick trying to cover it with his hands.

“I can’t see it!” George peered down, fully expecting to find something approaching the size of Ned’s or at least Pooper’s cock. “Where’s it gawn?”

“Has he got one!” said Anne.

“You’re a nasty cow, Anne!” bleated Dick.

“Can’t we get it to squirt like Pooper’s does!” added George. “Have you got it yet?”

“Don’t think so. Can’t find it!”

“It won’t squirt!”

Dick was on the verge of tears, his non-squirting willy had been at the top of his list of worries for days and now here he was totally humiliated by two girls, yet for some inexplicable reason it was still remaining erect.

George’s nether regions were all but steaming, the whole episode was so arousing that juices were being produced without even the smallest of fingers needed to help. “Come on Anne, get his hands out the way, I want to see it, rub it, squirt it!”

“I think this is it!” said Anne pinching it hard.

“It won’t squirt!” reiterated Dick finally bursting in to tears. “Now you’ve hurt it!”

“Oh! Is that it?” George was bending down for a very, very close inspection. “Go on rub it then!”

“But I don’t want it squirting over me!” Anne was rather optimistic. “Think it will?”

“It won’t!” moaned an unhappy Dick.

“Ooh Anne! Look the end bit moves up and down!” George was getting decidedly animated and very hands on, he\she rubbed his\her shorts. “Does Pooper’s willy do that?”

“You’re beastly and I’m never speaking to you ever again!” cried Dick defiantly.

“Come on, it must do something, how does he do it, Anne rub it harder!” demanded George.

“But it’s so small it’s jolly tricky to get hold of!”

However, whatever, notwithstanding and despite the dire circumstances something suddenly happened to Dick for he decided he had had enough of being made to look the fool. Somewhere he found some courage to start really struggling with the sole aim of getting hold of George’s shorts.

“What have you got then! What’s a girl’s willy look like?” he cried.

It soon became a pitched battle with Anne valiantly holding onto Dick’s dick and Dick himself wrestling with George’s shorts, sadly it was a very a one sided battle with two against one with Dick on the losing side even if he was giving it his all.

 

Over at the campsite, Aunt Fanny having partaken of another glass of Margaux had dozed off again which in turn allowed Ned to escape, who having sensed something was definitely afoot in the bushes set off hot foot to investigate. The wicked uncle of the piece, that being Uncle Quentin was not interested in what was going on around him especially since he had one hand up the leg of Julian’s shorts and the other was exploring the same very orifice that Ned had visited only the previous evening. As for Julian, what with Uncle Quentin’s mouth in full possession of all of his four inches he was equally disinterested and quite oblivious to sounds of Dick’s distress emanating from the undergrowth.

 

“Oi! Now that’s a bit unfair innit?” cried Ned as he too burst out from the bushes. “Two of you onto one and you’re bigger than him!”

With that, matters were soon evened up when Ned enthusiastically joined the fray. He immediately grabbed hold of Anne’s frock, pulled it up over her head and tied a knot in it, thereby creating a simple straightjacket which simultaneously exposed her naked body from the waist down. With muffled shouts of distress coming from the floral frock, George looked on horrified having realising that she would be next. And indeed she was, for it was a few only seconds later that she found herself in Ned’s tight grip and her shorts being pulled off by a determined Dick.

Dick was absolutely stunned at what he could see, the mystery of what a girl’s willy looked like had finally been answered, not that he really understood the anatomy. Anne had little to display other than a small mound which appeared to have a slit in it like his piggy-box money box, whereas George was the real focus of his attention. At their select all-girls school, appropriately named Mammary Towers after the famous series of Enid Blyton girly story books, George was famed for having the most hirsute fanny of his\her year and it certainly was very hairy, very, very hairy to compliment his\her matching moustache.

“Oh yuk! What.. what’s all that mess?” gasped Dick pointing with a wobbly finger to the luxuriant growth of dark hair containing many blobs of girly juices. “Has he\she really got a willy somewhere in all that muck?”

“Arrr, wot else could be making all that mess then!” said Ned frantically undoing his shorts. “Tell you wot Missy, I said I’d show you mine if you showed me yours, so here it is!”

“Crikey!!!” exclaimed Dick with triple exclamation marks as Ned dropped his shorts and allowed his beautifully proportioned organ to twang forth, he slowly drew back the foreskin. Dick gasped in envy. “Cor… golly it’s.. it’s humongous!”

And it certainly was.

Fresh from being overly excited having being ogled by Aunt Fanny, it was replete with remnants of spunk under the hooded end from its earlier encounter with Uncle Quentin. There could be no question that it didn’t look utterly magnificent with it’s wet eye winking in the sunlight, it quivered ready to deliver another broadside of Able Semen Ned’s spunk.

“Arrr,” said Pirate Ned moving to stand in front of George, “hurry up and open your legs and let’s hava look, better still go astern and sit on that gert rock and do it.”

Dick purposely avoided bumping into Anne who was still wandering round in ever decreasing circles and occasionally talking to herself. He stood by Ned and looked down, sadly his three inches were not even eligible to enter into the competition.

“But he’ll see it!” winged George pointing towards Dick’s dick which he was wisely hanging onto in case he\she grabbed it again.

“So,” Ned laughed, “but you were the ones who were doing him! Come on, open them legs and let’s hava proper look.”

“So is Anne going to end up looking like this with the moustache when she’s a bit older then?” asked a worried Dick, although strangely captivated by the vast bush.

“Arrr, ooh, shiver me timbers,” said Pirate Ned, getting into character and staring at George’s his\her latent transgender bush, “just look at that!”

“I say Ned, shiver me timbers, what does that mean?” asked Dick.

“Arrr, I dunno,” replied nautical Ned, “it didn’t tell I that in me pirate comic, but from the pictures I thinks it means I likes it up the bum!”

“Ooh yes! I like that as well, so maybe later?”

“Sssshhhh don’t talk about that! Let’s just get George to show us how he\she wanks shall us?”

“Ooh yes. Golly this is so exciting!”

Ned gesticulated to transitioning George that he\she should open his\her legs and start things off. “Come on then, get them juices dripping!”

The strange thing was that George didn’t really seem to object and was if anything more than willing to reveal all and start rubbing his\herself, for what the two boys didn’t know was that he\she was quite a budding of an exhibitionist. At school after lights out with the aid of a torch as a spotlight he\she would give all the dormitory a masturbation master-class by way of finger or an introduction to advanced hairbrush handle technique. The subject of transgenderism would be introduced and conclude with a slimy finale inviting any like-minded girls to take a turn in bringing her off with a choice of implement from either the front or back orifice.

“Ooh arrr… see that stuff oozing out?” Ned directed Dick’s stare to the very spot amongst the panoply of pubic hair, he\she George was already away with the fairies in double orgasm land. “That’s where his\her willy is.”

“Oh yuk that’s horrible!” exclaimed Dick backing away. “Disgusting slime!”

Before Ned could respond there was a commotion in the bushes and Julian hove into view in a shower of leaves, he was slightly limping since not only were his shorts sticky with semen, but his bottom felt as though Uncle Quentin still had a finger up it. But, he had really, really enjoyed it.

“Blimey!” he uttered being quite shocked and certainly unprepared to see George with legs spread wide and several transgender fingers lost inside the hairy mound. “Crickey! Wot is he\she doing?”

“Showing us how they girl’s wanks!” replied Ned laughing. “Where’s Quentin, he ain’t following you here has he?”

“No, no,” Julian was unable to take his eyes off of George, “no, he finished the wine then fell asleep.”

“Did he have a finger up your bum?”

Julian blushed. “How did you possibly know that?”

“The old perv!” Bosun Ned grinned. “But did he explain what that writing stuff was about?”

“Oh yes, I got him to do that, so now I know what we have to do.”

“Well are you going to tell us then?” asked Dick.

“Of course.” said Julian huffily. “And I propose that we look tomorrow, all right?”

“Oh arrr etc.” said Ned. “‘spose so.”

Before anybody could say anything else there was further rustling in the bushes and Pooper suddenly shot out, stood still, looked around, sniffed and then buried his wet nose right in George’s bush!

“He\she will enjoy that!” said Ned and he wasn’t joking.

“Which one?” asked Julian astutely.

“So where is it?” continued Dick. “I mean the treasure.”

“Arrr, I bet it’s in the secret cave in the secret bay with the pieces of nine and all that old pirate guff,” said Pirate Ned, “‘cause that’s wot me old granny says and she looks old enough to have been there when they buried it!”

“Pieces of what?”

“Nine or was it eight?” replied Pirate Ned, known to his more intimate shipmates as Sticky Hammock Ned.

“But where is the secret bay?” asked Dick.

“Arrr, well shipmates, I dunno, that’s why it’s called the secret bay innit!” Sticky Ned pulled his shorts back up over his now semi-flaccid member.

“I say, I never thought of it like that.” said Julian looking at Anne who despite her floral straight jacket had for the last few minutes managed to play with her girly bits. “Well what shall we do now, I think we should we release Anne.”

“Good idea,” said Dick, “I expect Pooper would like to check her over as well!”

“That’s settled then,” Ned scratched his barnacles, “‘cause I’ve had enough of watching that George splurge his\her fanny! So who’s coming back to the tent for a finger up the bum and a messy game of “Pass me the Cabin Boy and my Brass Bound Buggery Box!”

“I say, what’s a brass bound buggery box, that sounds fun.” said Julian.

“I’ll tell you later.” replied Ned. “Now come on.”

“Ooh that game sounds an absolutely wizard idea.” said Dick immediately grabbing his shorts. “We’ll leave the girls here to play with Pooper!”

In fact Pooper was one woof ahead for he was already applying his lipstick.

Chapter 5 to follow

 

Feedback is the only payment our authors get!
Please take a moment to email the author if you enjoyed the story
amias09@fastmail.fm