Paul Sutherland - Girl_s camp counselor

But the light of day did nothing as coherent as I had hoped for. First it put the whole of Camp Good Health in the worst possible light for both of us, and secondly she looked even more beautiful in the morning.

I didn't know what to do. We walked together to the cafeteria for our breakfast, only to find the place a shamble. Girls were swarming over the serving counters to get at the dwindling supplies of eggs, and others were frying them on the range with gay abandon. In the end they just threw the eggs up into the air so they broke open on the range, and removed the shells when they were fried.

We left the place, but not before a gang of girls had ridiculed us. Ashamed, we stopped holding hands, and walked off like the teacher and his pupil. But it was on. The news spread through the camp like wildfire, and soon little girls, some dressed, some naked, were taunting us with silly epithets like 'James loves Sandy, nyaah, nyaah!' and others rolled their eyes heavenward when we passed, mooning to themselves.

The pressure was on. Sandy used this opportunity to press home her demands, but I clung to my silly ideas for a little longer. But then we saw little girls dead drunk lying half in and half out of the huts, staggering around pissing themselves, or lighting cigarettes with trembling fingers.

Elsewhere, there were fights and arguments, scratched and bleeding girls running after each other and cursing. The middle aged ladies had locked and barred their huts and lived in fear of gang violence and my photos. Mark still hadn't been seen. And Lester Phipps had been tied to a tree near the administration building.

We walked up to him and asked what he had done to deserve this. He looked at us, pale and obviously shaken, and told us he really didn't know for sure, but that he had overheard some of the girls talking about a wholesale revenge on the male sex.

And sure enough, a troop of girls burst out of the woods with Mark in tow. He looked bewildered, stumbling with his hands tied behind his back, while the girls hit him with sticks and ridiculed him. That was enough for me. I turned and hightailed it back to my hut, Sandy behind me, threw my few belongings into the bag, and rushed out to my car.

She got in beside me, and I locked all the doors, wound up the windows, and drove toward the main gate. I found it had been chain-locked. Looking around, I saw a gang of girls come at us, brandishing sticks and throwing rocks, some of which bounced off the trunk. Time for a quick decision. I measured the thickness of the chain with my eyes, and slipped the car into drive. Then I stomped on the accelerator, and the car nosed into the gates.

The chain snapped instantly, and the gates flew open to let me out. The tires spat up gravel and grit as I made good my getaway. I didn't stop for a few miles, bouncing over the dirt road with the vision of the ugly hordes vivid in my mind. Only when we reached the expressway did I take it easy.

"We forgot about your things," I said, "did you have much there?"

"Oh shit," she said, frowning for a moment, but then she grinned and said it didn't matter, they were only a few old clothes. We drove on down the expressway, still wondering what to do. Suddenly I pulled over to the side of the road and said: "No, we'll go back later tonight, and I'll get the stuff for you. It'd be a shame to leave it all to those little bitches." Her face lit up, obviously she had been prepared to sacrifice the stuff for me.

We drove back to the dirt road and found the way to the lake, where we parked for the day. Except for going back to civilization to get hamburgers and coffee, we did nothing but laze and swim, dozing in the shade when the heat got too much for us, just waiting for a chance to get the rest of the stuff and disappear from this place.

I wondered what had become of Mark and Lester, and deep down I felt bad that I hadn't stayed to help them. After all, men ought to stick together to defend themselves against women. I grinned, and resolved to see if I could help them later.

Finally it was near enough to midnight to give it a try. Sandy locked herself in the car, which I had concealed among the bushes to make sure she would be perfectly safe. Then put on my sneakers, jeans, and dark sweater, and snuck through the woods.

Camp Good Health had turned into a child's bedlam. All the lights were on, a bonfire threw its erratic glare over the administration building, and loud whooping echoed through the still air. I circled the perimeter warily, afraid they might have posted sentries. But I overestimated the girls, they were all too busy having fun.

Staying within the deep shadows cast by the huts, I moved in closer. Sandy's hut was empty, so I rushed inside and found her locker. Packing her gear into her bag hurriedly, I moved on to check on Lester and Mark.

Both men had been tied to trees, ominously close to the raging bonfire, which was fed by a long line of girls throwing furniture and boards into it. Lester seemed to have fainted with fear, while Mark did his utmost to keep up a cool front. But even from where I stood, his jaw could be seen to tremble.

Elsa appeared suddenly, standing with her back to the fire and her arms upraised. She shouted for the girls to stop and listen to her, but she, too, was ignored. In the end she just shrugged and sat on a bench in front of the building, gazing dully into the fire.

In a flash I remembered her pistol, and I ran silently to her hut to see if it was still around. All her belongings had been scattered about the room, but I didn't give up hope. I rummaged through her bed, looked under the mattress, and tore at the lining of her handbag – no luck.

"All right, mister, freeze!" said a girl's voice from behind. I knew what was expected of me. My arms up in the air, I turned slowly around. Three of the older girls flanked Irene, who had the pistol pointed at my belly. They sniggered when they spotted Sandy's bag beside me, but didn't pursue the matter. Instead they ordered me to lay face down on the bed, and not to move a finger if I wanted to keep on living.

The whole affair reminded me of a rotten film, but I did as I was told. Nimble fingers stripped me of my clothes, and I heard one of them lock the door to and draw the curtains. From the remarks they made among each other, I gathered they meant to take their pleasure with me before abandoning me to my sorry lot with the other men.

I figured I was well advised to take my enjoyments as they came, instead of worrying about the future. The girls ordered me to lie on my back and for me to watch them take their clothes off. I did, and with pleasure.

The three lackeys were well developed for their age, while Irene looked lanky by contrast. I didn't know the names of the others, and no one introduced me, so I just let my gaze wander over the budding breasts and the sparsely overgrown cunts, stiff looking callow between thin thighs, like fruit that needed to ripen more.

Slowly the four of them came toward me, their cunts steady as they went, three pairs of tits wobbling, one pair quivering; and, just as they were almost on the bed, they broke out into a frantic rush to get to my dick first.

Irene won and sank her small mouth over it, swallowing it greedily, while the other three fought for my mouth. The biggest won, and settled her chubby brush over my lips leaving the other two to their own devices. I was happy. Irene was performing wonders with my dick, apparently spurred on by the competitiveness in the air. And the big girl's cunt was a veritable treasure chest of delights, making my tongue tingle and lap to relax her wide open.

I couldn't see much else but cunt. For a while I did my best to keep an eye on the two left-over girls, but the only indication I got that they were still with us was heavy breathing. My imagination did its best to construct the scene, while my eyes feasted on the hairy cleft just within focal range.