I was excited to be visiting Joey at his summer camp, Camp Boytaur. It was supposed to be the most fun guy-camp there was, all for grown-up guys in their final teens who wanted to spend the summer multi-legged.
How he had come across the small ad, lost in the hundreds of summer-camp ads in the back of a coffee table travel magazine, I don't know, but he had always wanted to be four-legged, since the time he had found pictures of four-legged boytaurs looking so awesome and cool running side by side on their four excellent legs, and now that Joey was pretty much all grown up, his tanned, broad-shouldered muscular body beautiful, long and lithe, nothing would do until he could be sent there.
The boytaur camp had hiking and swimming and running and horseback riding and every sport imaginable, all specially adapted for doing four-legged, and the place was known for the camaraderie of its multi-legged campers as well as staff.
Joey had written me about the place, sending emails daily from the computer class he was also taking there. He would always attach photos of himself and his newly four-legged friends. They wore the official camp sarong, and his letters laughingly referred to his new freedom from underwear. I guess none of the guys needed it with their sarongs, and I guessed it was pointless anyway, what with their having so many legs.
They were, to the man, really good-looking young guys, into their late teens and early twenties, all suntanned and glowing with male vitality from the weeks of outdoor living, plenty of good food and exercise, and sure enough, as the photos showed, they had plenty of tan, long-muscled legs.
I would have expected that the guys would be for the most part four-legged, and some were, but six legs was the norm, with a few eight- and ten-legged adventurers among them. The one thing they all had in common was their uncommonly long, well-formed male legs, models' legs, really.
The guys were all jaw-droppingly handsome, of course, and obviously having a good time, laughing and mugging for the camera, even camping it up in a tribute to the Rockettes with all their long-muscled legs raised in a spectacular kick, even when some of the “leggier” guys had so many hindquarters that some were well out of arms' length reach of each other. Of course, they had to show off their multiple pairs of handsome feet, each pair more beautiful than the last, so they kept their front feet and hind feet barefoot, which I'm sure was part of the fun of being there, four- legged, footloose and fancy-free, so to speak.
You could tell the staffers, who were obviously a little older, very athletic and in their early twenties, also barefoot and with attractive informal-looking olive sarongs. Most of the staff were four-legged, with only a couple six-legged, at least from what I could see in the pictures.
But the guys were obviously in it for the four-legged fun of it, and from the pictures in Joey's emails there was no lack of fun for them, their games and wrestling and mutual play a daily riot of long, healthy, summer-tanned multiple male legs at play.
So here I was, sitting in the waiting room of Camp Boytaur's rustic lodge, looking at the large plastic-sheeted photo albums left out for guests, looking at page after page of pictures of laughing, long-multi-legged guys, their four legged gaits captured in sequential photos, their campy frolics around the campfire captured with nighttime flash photos of them seeing who could sit cross-legged on the most pairs of legs, laughing and groaning with discomfort as their hindmost pairs of crossed legs bore the numbing weight beneath the middle and frontal multiple pairs of crossed legs and the muscular torsos of the guys as they sat on their own towers of crossed legs.
The follow-up photos showed the towers of legs tumbling, as the laughing guys had to relieve their crushed hindmost pairs of legs of their muscular burdens-the fallen guys splayed their several pairs of legs in relief, as their friends and contest-mates rushed to their aid with eager and enthusiastic leg, ankle and foot massages, especially for the hindmost pairs of legs.
“You're here to see Joey?” one of the handsome young camp counselors asked, startling me from my photo-album reverie. I looked up to meet his friendly, welcoming smile. He was tanned and broad-shouldered, very handsome bare- chested in his olive sarong, which draped itself modestly among his four tanned legs.
“He's adding legs in the mud baths. Care to see?” I nodded my assent, rather at a loss for words; I rose and followed him along paths and wooden walkways to the camp's famous transformational hot springs and mud baths, noticing that my eyes found themselves hard-pressed to stray from the intriguing sight of his relaxed, four-legged gait. His four bare feet planted themselves quite naturally in step among each other as the four legs gracefully carried his sarong-clad, tanned body forward; he moved like a graceful, athletic dancer, catlike in the smoothness of his four-legged walk, his hind legs and hips moving in subtle counterpoint to his front pair of legs. He was beautiful to watch.
He happened to glance behind him to see how I was following, immediately noticing my enchantment with his four legs, in spite of my effort to appear disinterested.
“It's a little different, isn't it?” He smiled, comforting my pang of embarassment.
“I'll say,” I agreed, relieved.
“Wait'll you see Joey,” he said, gesturing to the path ahead.
It dawned on me that we had been hearing the rousing echos of young guys' laughter for a while now, too distant at first to register, but now becoming clearer as we came closer to the mud bath area, as the path and occasional wooden walkways wound among the trees and gentle hills of the rocky countryside.
Finally, there we were, and there he was! “Joey!” I heard myself scream, simultaneously in fear, in greeting, and in joy! Joey was romping around in the mud, laughing his maddeningly arousing musical laugh, mud all over his long, muscular legs, all eight of them, and they slapped together as his eight beautiful glistening legs, light brown with mud, cavorted about.
He had daubed the special mud on his long, handsome arms to give himself a pair of mud-sleeves, and thanks to the mud's properties, now he had six of his awesome long arms, their long muscles mud-glossy, slapping each other, as he galloped about, splashing the heavy mud with his six big hands and his eight handsome human feet. I was at once worried, glad to see him, and overjoyed at the beauty of my Joey, even more so as he romped joyously six-armed, on eight long, muscular and truly beautiful human male legs! Two of the handsome four-legged male camp employees were enjoying his play, as he dodged between them, pretending to let them almost catch him, then playfully wrestling out of their grip and away on his eight long, mud-shiny legs. They were beautiful to watch as they worked together, his eight incredible guy's legs so graceful and muscular in motion, even as the mud flew.
Each of the four-legged male counselors pretended to try to catch Joey as he ran up to them on his eight legs, and as they tried to grab him, their own four legs almost tripping on each other in the mud, he would bolt away laughing in the opposite direction, his six beautiful mud-slick arms working to keep his balance, their muscles so handsome on his broad-shouldered, powerful male torso as he laughed, head thrown back, powered away on his incredible team of eight good-looking male legs, so awesome even with the glossy mud glazing them.
My own four-legged guide turned to me and gave me a knowing, amused smile. “I've washed my four legs off more than once after trying to catch Joey,” he said. “He can go at this for hours after adding legs. I think we'd need eight legs just to keep up with him.”
“Are his six arms new?” I asked.
“The rearmost pair of them are,” my guide answered, his handsome gaze turned to Joey's six long, agile arms as he howled and romped his eight legs back and forth in the mud between his laughing four-legged male companions. “Joey added them today, with his newest hindquarters. The middle pair he added when he added his third pair of legs. He only had his two original arms when he first became four- legged. It was quite a day for all of us when he discovered he could multiply his arms by rubbing the mud all over them. Sort of like it was when he added his second pair of arms and his third pair of legs, and today, now that he has six arms and four pairs of legs. We will probably make Joey our new poster boy,” he added, laughing.
The other guys we had heard laughing were largely spectators, standing in an attractive leggy group, their handsome multiple pairs of legs muddied also. They were mostly four-legged and six-legged. They laughed and applauded as Joey ultimately slipped and went down in the mud, his eight beautiful legs splaying everywhere. The two four-legged male camp counselors valiantly helped him up and, slipping several times, loaded him onto their backs. Joey held the shoulders of one handsome four-legged counselor as he carried him along, Joey's six mud-glazed arms resting pleasurably around the counselor's shoulders, his broad back muscles and his waist, the other four-legged counselor walking alongside him, carrying Joey's four hindmost legs on his hindquarters as Joey rode more or less side-saddle, his eight incredibly beautiful male legs lazily splayed and dangling from atop their hindquarters, glazing them with fresh mud as it oozed from his eight relaxing legs.
The other multilegged guys cheered and applauded Joey as a hero, running up around him as his entourage.
It was wonderful, but perhaps a bit much to take all at once; my guide noticed what must have been a look of fatigue crossing my face, and helped me onto his hindquarters, where I could ride him and hold onto his shoulders for the ride to the showers, where the guys, the four-legged counselors and Joey would wash the thick mud off their multiple long legs, and off Joey's six beautiful arms.
Joey finally noticed me and blew me a kiss, humorously, with his six big hands, his multiple arms each taking a turn waving at me. “I hope you can stay for the magic show after dinner!” he said.
“It should be fun,” my guide advised as he carried me along, as I enjoyed the pleasant dum-ta dum of his four-legged walk beneath me while I held his broad, muscled shoulders. “Last time, our magician 'sawed' Joey's hindquarters off, and we had pandemonium as we went running around catching them all to put him back together. It won't be any easier now that he has eight legs!” he said, laughing at the prospect.