“Wake up, kitten!” Courtney sang.
Emily woke up. She opened her eyes, touched cautiously at the insides of her head. There was the cotton gauze, almost familiar, by now. That sense of vagueness and silliness. The throbbing mess of her new libido, ready to get touched off by anything. She had woken up into the body of a sex toy, a big factory for coaxing cum from boys. And sex toys didn’t need to think too hard. She could probably do some math if she had to, but that was boring.
“Emillllyyyyy!” Courtney said. “Wake up! It’s sunny out!”
It was sunny out?
It was never sunny out. Their entire stay at Camp Science Preparation had been grey skies.
She had fallen asleep on her stomach, naked. Emily turned over. Her boobs weren’t much bigger, at least. Yes, they looked like she was a naturally big girl who had sprung for the tit job, but at least the expansion had slowed. Her nipples should’ve been raw and sore, but weren’t.
“Emily, help, I don’t think I can read anymore,” Courtney said, giggling helplessly.
She pushed a note into Emily’s face. She panicked, realized that she couldn’t read it either. Then the Asian girl found her glasses, and slipped them on. The world snapped into focus.
“This says “S-L-n-7-S-S-something weird-N-U-H-L. What does that mean? The boys left it.”
Emily looked at it. She turned it around from how Courtney had held it. “Th-anks Sl-uts,” she read, sounding it out.
Courtney sagged, relieved. “Whew! I’d hate to not read, you know? I mean, there’s dumb, and then there’s dumb.”
Her best friend was the perfect blonde. Crashing waves of spun gold hair, framing a vapid face with vacant eyes. Her body bubbled with sex, and looked perfectly squeezable. She was so smooth and polished Courtney looked like she was followed around by an airbrusher.
“The Pythagorean Theorem is…” Emily tried. Nothing came to her.
“Stop talking snakes,” Courtney said. “Get up, sleepy! It’s a beautiful day out! And today is the campfire!”
Something was different about her roommate. It took Emily a few foggy moments to put it together.
“The gum,” she said. “You’re not chewing the gum.”
Although she had slipped into a well-fitting white sundress, with white socks. She looked like a slutty sixteen year old, off to pick daisies.
“I told you I wasn’t addicted,” Courtney said, proudly. “And it’s all because of you! I learned from you, sweetie.”
“Learned… what?”
“If ever I feel like chewing on gum, I just have to lean over and suck on someone’s cock, instead,” Courtney explained. “I feel fine so long as I have a little cum in me!”
Emily tested her own head. She was surprised to find the all-consuming urge to chew, chew, chew had receded. It was still there, and some gum would still taste really good. But the ocean of addiction had fallen back. “I feel better too,” she noted, swinging her legs out. “I don’t need the gum!”
Courtney nodded, eagerly. “I should hope not, with all the spermies you swallowed, kitten. It’s a good thing you can’t get belly pregnant.”
She had been… swallowing cum? Emily didn’t remember that.
“You’re such a perfect little cocksucker,” Courtney said, twirling in the light off the cabin window, like a dainty, ditzy ballerina. “You’ll have to teach me! Donald said you almost killed him!”
Her mouth did taste… salty…
Courtney looked her roommate over. “Mm, you’ve got such a fun new body,” she pronounced. Emily glanced down. It was hard to see past her overly-built chest. But she felt awkward and slow, placed into a body intended to be on its back. Her hips swayed when she walked, and Emily felt her soft rear end bouncing up and down.
Her roommate licked her lips. “You know, girl-cum is kind of tasty too,” she said, advancing steadily. She pushed Emily lightly, on the tips of her nipples, and the overstacked girl fell backwards onto her computer chair. This new body was helpless. Its only defensive mechanism was to spread legs and warm up.
Courtney’s pink-painted fingernails dipped into the honeypot of her snatch, came back dripping wet. “Mmm, I can still taste Donald, too. I thought his cock was glued to your pussy, after awhile.”
Then she shook her head, regretful. “But we’ve got to get going, kitten. Today is a big day!”
“A big day for what?” Emily said. Her body had been embarrassingly ready to sit and get finger-fucked by her energetic roommate. She felt so… passive..
“A big day for days!”
Emily had no clothes that came close to fitting. So she struggled once more into the stretched, ridiculous pair of Camp Shorts and Camp T-Shirt that she had worn for three days straight. It was still wet, so it outlined her assets, and the shorts hugged her clit with every step.
They walked together, former Counselors, now bow-legged from a long night of half-remembered fucking. Pieces were starting to come back to Emily, now. Kneeling, two cocks in front of her, both of them jizzing into her wide-open mouth. Courtney licking at her snatch, laughing as she did.
“Some scientist,” Emily thought, doleful. She squinted against the sun. It was brilliant, back in action, and her eyes weren’t used to the glare. The mud hadn’t yet had a chance to dry, and was still sucking at her tennis shoes with every step.
The cafeteria held the entire Camp, sitting at Tribal Tables as usual. Breakfast that morning was Cheerios, with barely cooked eggs, for the brave. The room was poorly ventilated and damp with long rows of benches from the Ford Administration.
The only difference was the barely-clothed girls that floated around the room, with wide smiles, escorted by at least a dozen boys.
Many of them appeared to have been dressed by a particular Tribe.
Tribe Fox had stuffed Megan into a green bikini, with matching green heels. Her slinking stride was matched by the smiling members of the tribe, escorting her to the table with pats on the ass.
Tribe Badger had dressed Alicia, the other asian girl, in schoolgirl regalia. She had white stockings, and a skirt so brief it wasn’t worth bothering. Each step revealed white cotton panties. Vanessa had been made up whorish and garish, with a solid layer of lipstick and big hoop bangles. She wore a cheap cotton dress in electric yellow. Her lashes were caked with so much eyeshadow blinking had to be a serious effort.
The boys admired both Courtney and Emily. But they left them alone, too, as Courtney loaded a tray with Cheerios for the both of them. “I’m really excited about the campfire tonight,” she gushed. “Is Mr. Turtle all set?”
“He’s alive,” Emily reported. That was going to have to be enough. She swiveled, searched for some corner of remaining sanity.
There, sitting in the corner, was reason to hope.
Candice and Tara, against all odds, had not given in. They had dressed themselves in heavy sweaters and long pairs of jeans, as armor, and had their hair sharply pulled back in a ponytail. Emily felt like cheering. Two girls, at least, were holding out against the ultra-femininity of the gum. No doubt they had tracked it down to the source, found the person responsible, had called the police…
Courtney sat her at their own bench, their usual spot. She plunged happily into her cheerios, downing heavy spoonfuls of cereal. Then she followed Emily’s gaze over to the twosome of lonely resistance fighters.
The blonde leaned forwards. “Tara and Candice are gonna look so cute with big tits,” she whispered, and winked.
Emily felt, suddenly, very cold. And then warm again, as two bigger girls sat on either side of her.
She caught flashes of pink and pastel, and two females with perfect profiles and identical boobs.
Chrissie and Andrea had nothing black left in them.
Andrea had dressed—or been dressed—in an all-pink parody of rocker gear. It was all done in plastic, shiny plastic, with a spiked collar made out of cotton and felt, and studded with hearts. Her plastic boots extended up to midthigh, and showed off just enough of her thighs.
Her formerly-dark friend was nearly an infant. Her legs were swaddled with a childish pair of pink shorts, with two cute back pockets, all done up in corduroy. She wore a baby-doll top, in pink with little angels along the hem, and her tits pressed, grotesque, against the front. All that was missing was the pacifier around her neck.
“What are you doing to Tara and Candice?” Emily demanded, even as the two pink girls settled in with their own bowls of cheerios.
To answer, Courtney took a big dramatic sip of milk, and winked.
Emily’s eyes flew over to the holdouts. And, now that she looked closer, Tara had already drained three bowls of cereal, while Candice dug frantically into her second. Even as she watched, Tara gave up on the spoon, and simply picked up the bowl. She poured the milk into her mouth, missing with much of it. It spilled all over the front of her sweater. Candice copied her, slurping it noisily.
Both girls sat back, sagged, and groaned with noisy pleasure. Both were panting and flushed. Then they stood up and dashed back to the kitchen. For more bowls of delicious milk.
Emily tried to stand up, to try and stop them from slutting themselves. A gentle pressure on her neck pushed her back down. Chrissie’s hand. The girl still had nearly four inches of height on her, even in her precious getup.
“Going somewhere?” Andrea murmured. She pulled something out of her purse. The only bit of dark black left between them.
The large, insistent, dildo.
While Emily stared at it, and the still-moist tip, Chrissie gently stood her up and unbuttoned her shorts. She slid them over the helpless girl’s hips, then forced her back down onto the cold metal of the bench. It was cold on her bare ass, and tickled her slit.
That was Andrea’s cue to tease the endless length towards the middle of her thighs.
They started to inch apart.
“We’ve named him Peter,” Andrea said, as the plastic started to nestle into her creamy-smooth thighs. “Get it?”
“Nooooooo,” Emily said, transfixed. She was naked below the waist, utterly exposed, a willing target for anything with a dick. If she was bent over she would take it up the ass. If she was put up on the table she would spread her legs. The last embers of resistance were flickering, dying out.
“It’s because Peter is another word for Penis,” Chrissie explained. Andrea reached the outer folds of her cunt. It was still juicy and oily from last night. Or maybe that was just her default, these days. Wet and willing. The folds parted easily for the plastic cock, and Andrea pushed it oh-so-slowly inside.
“Why are you doing this?” Emily said, leaning back to let the dildo in. It rubbed against her clit. Her mind sparked with the cotton fog of sex-juice. Chrissie rubbed gently at her tits. Were they going to strip her naked in the cafeteria, drive her to orgasm in front of a cheering crowd?
“Because it’s fun,” Andrea said. “And you’re fun to fuck. You’ve got such an adorable body for playing with.”
The pink girl looked down, surprised. “Wow, it’s all in!”
Emily felt full, split nearly in two by the massive length of the sex toy. It didn’t seem possible that the entire thing could fit inside her, but she could feel it, rubbing on every part of her sensitive inner walls. She squirmed, let it roll around, lubricated and hot.
“That’s amazing, Emily,” Courtney said, smiling. She was finishing her cheerios. “I’ll have to tell Donald. He’ll be so excited that his fiancée can take so much in!”
How did it fit inside? It was some sort of math problem. If a juicy sexpot had eight inches of vagina, and there was a nine inch cock… how did that work, exactly?
Over in the corner, Tara and Candice were in heat. They slurped madly at big bowls of milk, drinking as fast as they could, faces wet with spilled milk and feverish. Boys were bringing them more and more, watching them get soaked from head to toe with more of the juice-doped milk. Candice dropped her bowl to the ground, let it crack, and started to rub madly at her jean-encased slit.
“Gosh, we might’ve given them too much,” Courtney said. But she didn’t seem concerned.
Wait, Fiancee?
“Fiancee?” Emily mumbled. Andrea was trying, unsuccessfully so far, to reach in and get the dildo back out. She squeezed harder, to keep it inside.
“We’re both gonna marry Donald and Thomas! I know, I’m excited too.”
Andrea gave up on trying to find the dildo, and just pushed her fingers inside, instead. Emily felt stretched, full to bursting, completely filled up with… everything.
There was a hand on her shoulder, one without long fingernails. And then a boy’s voice, strong and confident.
“Emily, come on,” Brian said. “We’ve got to get going.”
She nearly cried out in relief. Instead, Emily orgasmed, floating in a river of bumpy, burning pleasure. She turned to her man, clutched him with both arms. Andrea and Chrissie, in the presence of a boy, turned docile and submissive. They said nothing as Brian lifted her up.
Most of the cafeteria watched her fumble with her downed shorts, pulling them up only slowly. The other half watched Tara try to remember how to take her pants off. Candice had fallen to her knees, and slurped on the cock of a nearby boy.
Brian took her arm, and she walked along with him. “We’ll get to the car, and get going,” her boy said. His harsh boy scent flooded her, and Emily licked her lips. She nodded as hard as she could. A savior. At last. And freedom from the sexual perversion that was Camp Science Preparation.
“Emily, come on,” he said, frowning. “Hurry up,”
Emily paused. She pulled down her shorts again, over her ass, and squirmed with one hand over her hairless slit. Then she pulled out the dildo and dropped the dripping tool to the floor.
“Sorry,” she said, meekly. “Lets go.”
Brian drove a small hatchback. The backseat was full of discarded fast food bags. It smelled like old French fries and long, sweaty drives. The car itself was ugly and brown, with new mud on the sides. It was the best thing Emily had ever seen.
Her boy was dressed in the usual khaki pants and long-sleeved blue shirt. His face had determined resolution all over it. Emily thought about giving him a thank-you hummer right there in the car, but decided against it. For now.
“I guess I shouldn’t have doubted you,” Brian said, glancing sidelong. They zipped out of the parking lot. The faded “Camp Mo-wan-oke” sign with “Camp Science Preparation” tacked over it disappeared in the rear view. “I mean, look at you, Emily. Wow.”
“I’m all boob,” Emily said, looking down. Her pendulous tits didn’t even need a bra. And if they weren’t bad enough, her nipples were more then faintly ridiculous.
“You are,” Brian agreed. “How about the rest of you?”
Emily ticked them off on her fingers. “Brain is all stupid and stuff. Slippery fun pussy. All my little hairs fell out. Brain is all stupid and stuff.”
Her boy shifted in his chair, grinned when she turned away, and sped up.
They passed the freeway onramp. Emily blinked at it. Her head tried to push something through. “Should we… ummm.. go on the freeway? If we’re making escapes?” she said. Her body flushed, embarrassed to be contradicting a boy. Of course Brian knew what he was doing.
“We will, don’t worry,” Brian said, soothing. He passed into the outlet mall. It was nearly deserted, this early in the morning, except for a few bleary-eyed salesgirls. “But first I think we need to get you cleaned up. You’re a mess.”
That was hard to argue with. Emily looked like a porn star caught in a flash flood. Her shirt was stretched and thin over her boobs, and her shorts were going to give way the next time she swiveled her ass.
“And then we’ll escape, Brian?” she said.
Brian just smiled at her. “Sure, kitten.”
“Brian,” Emily said, uncertain. “Is this okay? I can’t really walk that good in these…”
She tip-toed in the unfamiliar height of heels. Emily had expected her man to zero in on something sensible, for running away in. Instead, Brian had immediately headed for the leather and straps section of the shoe store. He had picked out little black boots, with a point heel, and insisted she put her tan feet into them.
“You can’t run anyways, with your boobs like that,” Brian pointed out.
That was true. And he was paying for them, with a credit card and everything. Emily didn’t even have her identification with her. Not that she still looked like the girl in the photo. Only the glasses were the same.
She tried a few more steps. The heels forced her to walk in a perfectly straight line. Her crescent-shaped ass revolved as she walked. The two male storekeeps eyed her openly. Their eyes felt good on her boobs.
Emily took another halting step forwards, and something finally gave way on her overstretched shorts. There was a short tearing sound, as her puffed-up rear finally broke through the stitching. She clasped her hand over it, and looked to Brian, mortified.
He nodded, solemnly. “We’ll just have to do something about that.”
They had left her underwear in the trash bin. It was a dingy grey mess, anyways. The air felt weird, but good, against her slit.
The twosome had the dressing room to themselves. Emily had mutely watched Brian hand the shopkeep a wad of money. Why? It was confusing.
“Are you sure?” she said, admiring her reflection. “It makes me look…”
“Great,” Brian insisted. “It makes you look great.”
He had trailed through the store, Emily teetering on his arm. Everyone turned and whispered, watching the big-boobed girl with the slutty big lips hanging on the arm of the geek. And then noticing her tan skin through the hole in her shorts. Brian had pulled out all the shortest, skimpiest things he could find. He seemed to know exactly what her size was, even in her newly padded body.
“It makes me look… slutty,” Emily thought, her mind finally tossing out the vocabulary. First he had put her in shorts, tight jean shorts that hugged her charms, then thin spandex shorts that rubbed at her clit. The latter half of the shorts had wet stains on the front, where she had soaked them with increasing arousal.
Now he had her in skirts. This one was short and black, but with a neon pink stripe on the side that looked like a racing decal. She could only take the smallest, most mincing steps.
“Bend over for a second, I’ll show you why it’s perfect,” Brian prompted. He had gotten more and more comfortable with ordering her around.
She did so, acutely aware of her boobs dangling, like Christmas ornaments. “See?” she said, craning her neck back. “You can see my puss—“
Brian reached forward and stroked her presented clit. It felt like a red-hot shock of lightning. Emily’s objections died on her lips.
“See how good this is?” Brian prompted. “I can touch you whenever I want. All I have to do is bend you over. Isn’t this nice?”
His fingers were kneading at her clit now, expertly. A warm streak of lubrication leaked onto her thighs. Brian took it a step farther, putting his fingers inside her.
“Yeah… it’s nice…” Emily said, pushing back, squeezing her eyes shut. Access was good…
“You can finger yourself too, if you want,” Brian told her.
“What about… my underwear?” Emily said, puzzled.
Brian waved a hand, dismissive. “It’d just get in the way. This is way better.”
Of course it would. Brian removed his finger. Too soon. She was into it, wrapped around the needling touch of his hands. But they were escaping, after all.
He fucked her when they went shopping for tops.
Emily walked slowly. The need for gum was starting up again. She could feel it starting to pulse in her head, that need for something to chew on. Fuzzing up what remained of her mind. “Can we go fast?” she said, pleading.
Brian took her into the nearest boutique.
Finding anything that would fit at all over her chest was a challenge.
Emily trailed behind him, feeling the air on her panty-less pussy with every short step. When Brian stopped, to check something out in the store, he would often slip a finger underneath her brand new skirt and feel her up a bit. Emily rode constantly on the edge of orgasm, waiting for that final touch that would push her up and over the edge.
They picked up white button-downs that didn’t really fit, see-through mock-business shirts, tank-tops that were nearly split apart by her nipples. A growing stack of clothes that exposed her navel and showed off her body. Brian didn’t even bother to look at bras.
“Finally!” he said, smiling broadly. Her boy pulled out a lacy pink top, with black buttons. It would match perfectly her slutty skirt, mark her as a a 80s J-Pop icon with enormous tits and luscious lips. He rushed Emily to the dressing room, tossing more bills at the surprised clerk, and pulled shut the door.
“Hurry,” he said, breathing hard. “Try it on. Come on.”
Emily tossed her shirt to the side. She slid the new one on, buttoned the top button. The pink clearly traced her boobs, and still did nothing to hide her nipples. With the skirt she looked like a color-coordinated toy, to be dressed and undressed at will.
That made her even hotter.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. You look fucking perfect,” Brian said. He grabbed her ass, easily lifted her up, and braced her against the concrete wall with one arm. His other undid his belt and released his cock. Then, in the same easy motion, he aimed Emily’s slit at the trembling length.
Emily spread her legs, to help out.
He entered her, grunting, pinning her between wall and boy. Only the new padding on her body kept it from hurting. Instead, it felt fantastic—a real, live, thrusting cock instead of plastic or fingers. A big hard one, already leaking pre-cum, bombarding her with signals of fun and happiness.
Courtney was right. This did substitute for gum.
For the first time, Emily wondered if that was intended.
She wrapped her legs around him, thudded her heels against his back in time, pushing him forwards. Brian had no control and finesse. He rammed his cock into her slit, out again, then in as fast and hard as he could. But the friction was intense, and she was already so wet and needy, that Emily started to scream with each artless stroke. She needed it, any way she could get it, whatever he would provide.
When he came, she managed to time her third orgasm to match his.
Afterwards, cooing and helpless, she cleaned his cock with her tongue. “Brian?” she said, looking up with cum-stained glasses. “Can I be your housewife-scientist?”
Brian, tired, nodded his head. “Sure, kitten. Whatever you want.”
For the first time, Emily felt like that would be enough.
Back in the car, Brian produced a makeup kit.
“Put on some mascara… and some kind of lipstick,” he said, putting the car back in gear.
“Oh, for the disguise?” Emily said, eagerly. It was all worked out in her head, now. She would be Brian’s eager and loving housewife, getting fucked regular, putting her brains back together in the afternoon through flashcards and educational television.
“Sure, for the disguise. Oh. And I think you’d look good in pigtails.”
Actually, she looked like even more of a ditz in pigtails. But whatever Brian wanted, he got. He was her savior, after all. She did them up as they drove.
Which was why it was a surprise when the Camp Science Preparation sign appeared ahead of them. As well as the familiar row of long pine trees, on the shores of the distant lake. Was this a… different Camp Science Preparation? What was going on?
“Brian? Why are we going back?” Emily asked, timorously. She shifted in her little black skirt. She still didn’t have any underwear on.
Brian slipped his hand, reassuring, onto her inner thigh. He stroked gently at her pussy. The boy was getting better at finding her clit.
“There’s one other thing you have to do, before you leave,” he said, gently. “Just one thing.”
Emily swallowed, hard. “What?”
“Tonight is the Campfire. And you have a presentation to make, kitten.”
Where had the day gone? They had left after breakfast. That meant… like tenish. But now the sun was already starting to near the horizon on the distant far shore of Lake Five. The bonfire had arrived.
That meant something like seven or eightish hours had passed in dressing rooms, giving out blowjobs and collecting poundings on the wall. That would explain the big pile of bags in the backseat of Brian’s car, on top of the fast food refuse.
Emily pulled at her mind, strained to draw conclusions from observable facts, fought hard to coax something intelligent from the fog of fucked-out brains she was using for a mind. It finally came together when Brian pulled into the parking lot.
“You’re in on it, aren’t you?” she said, searching Brian’s eyes. “In on… the gum..”
Brian put his hand on her ass, and guided her forwards. “Good job on that. Why don’t we talk after the campfire?”
It was already prepared, on the shores of the lake, where the slope dipped into a pile of green-muck rocks. A bonfire roared, blasting at her exposed skin. Eager nerds heaped more firewood on the inferno, building it higher and higher. The others had already gathered in rows, organized by their totem animals. Brian rejoined Bobcat Tribe after leaving her at the front of the makeshift amphitheater.
The boys had already set up her computer, along with a projector and a white piece of butcher paper for the screen. “You just need to push the play button,” one of them said, as he brushed past.
The fire-starters finished up. They settled back into their respective tribes.
Soon it was just her, in her pigtails and makeup and puffy tits, in front of over one hundred and sixty eager male eyes. The girls of Tribe Butterfly were nowhere to be seen.
“Be a Scientist,” Emily told herself. Not just a gum-slut.
So she straightened up and tottered on her heels over to the computer. When she bent over, to press the play button, over eighty boys drank in the sight of her exposed pussy, reflecting with firelight. Cum dried on her thighs under the heat of the flame.
Emily pushed the play button on her very first try.
A beam of light shot out of the projector, illuminating a crude green turtle, on an empty field. It had been made out of circles and other geometric shapes, with a basic attempt to color in its shell. The mouth of the computer animated amphibian was covered in lipstick.
Emily held her breath.
The turtle took one, single step forwards. And then another, and another, until it was looped on the screen, running to nowhere with stumpy legs.
Emily turned around, crossed her arms underneath her chest, and beamed. The boys rose up and applauded, whistling loudly, calling for her to bend over and bow.
She had done it, after all, gum or no gum.
That was when Courtney emerged, from the side of the stage. She was escorted by the Camp Administrator, a weasely man with a brushy mustache and big black eyes. He had his hand on Courtney’s ass, and the blonde walked alongside, with perfectly lady-like strides.
He took the microphone from Emily, and nodded at her, politely.
“And now, for the group project of the other Tribes,” the Administrator said. He nodded at Courtney, and she pirouetted. They had dressed her in white, with stockings the same virginal color. She stood ramrod straight, like she was being auctioned.
“It took all summer, and the work of her fledgling Chemists, our Pre-Meds, even our Engineers and our other scientific disciplines, all working together in inter-tribal harmony,” the Administrator said.
“But with the right motivation, and with the help of Science, nothing is truly beyond the students of Camp Science Preparation. So, before you go forth next week onto your careers in science, I present to you your first triumph: Bunny and the girls of Tribe Butterfly!”
That was the cue.
Eleven girls ran out of the dusk, in slutwear or sex-based costumes or in almost nothing at all. They ran in heels, none smaller then at least several inches, but picked their way easily through the mud. Big tits, fronted by out-thrust nipples and massive aureole, jiggled in time with their long strides.
They gathered in a line, nearly all the same height, with the same stupid smiles, and curtsey-d to the crowd. Eleven pairs of panties, in leather or plastic or skimpy cotton, flashed the hooting boys.
Even Samantha was there somehow, impossibly. They had bundled her off to their parents, hadn’t they? But there she was, laced up in a dark corset and carrying a mock-leather whip. She had blue blush painted on her cheeks, and way too much lipstick, like a kind of bondage doll.
The girls turned, and bent over. Eleven rear ends were presented for approval. The crowd roared, even louder, a wave of lust and desire crashing towards the juice-infected girls in front of the bonfire.
Courtney stood in front of them all. Or… what was her name, now? Emily couldn’t quite remember.
A breeze had blasted a familiar scent through the crowd, arising up from the bonfire itself.
The smell of burning wood, yes, but topped with… gum?
She licked her lips, and let it run through her. The rationalizations, rattled thoughts, and remnants of prim and proper Scientist were filed away with each new breath.
“Bunny is proud to show off the delectable ladies of our Tribe! The sexiest, sluttiest Scientists in the whole big world!” her roommate said. She giggled, and twirled. Bunny had the highest shoes of all, with a tent spike of a heel. She had a cotton ball tail pasted on to the back of her plastic-wrapped ass.
Even Candice and Tara were there. Not as bimboized as the others. Tara was still heavy, only halfway down to the bombshell weight of the girls in line with her. But she had been shoved into a cowgirl costume, with a tiny ten-gallon hat and jean cutoffs. Lithe little Candice didn’t have her tits yet, but she was pawing at her chest anyways, overcome with need.
A boy took Emily’s hand. “Come on, Kitten,” Brian whispered, into her ear. She followed him backwards, to the edge of the fire. He hugged her, from behind, and tugged idly at her tits. His cock rested up against the curve of her ass, and she wriggled back against it.
The girls in the line began to dance. Or rather, it started as a dance, with a few basic moves and back-and-forth pivots. Twirling in a circle, then stepping towards the light, wriggling their rears in time. Stretching their legs wide, touching their toes, and winking at the audience, who clapped a rhythm.
It wasn’t until they turned once more, and pushed their fingers into their slits, that Emily sort of recognized what was going on. It wasn’t dancing. The girls on the stage didn’t have the brains to manage a rhythm, anyways. It was a meat market, demonstrating tits and ass and willingness to use them. The Butterflies picked up their boobs, rolled them around, and flicked their nipples into full extension.
Brian roughly tugged down her shorts, just enough to expose her ass. Emily bent herself forwards, automatically. It just seemed like the natural thing to do whenever her bare pussy was exposed to the air. Her body got itself ready for another rough fucking, bracing against the ground and juicing up like a welling fountain. What little remained of her mind was occupied by the firelit girls, dancing and sweating, turned into gyrating figures eager for a fucking.
Brian grunted, and she obediently bent a little more forwards, so that his cock could slam home.
Even with her preparation, the sensation of a boy’s dick hitting the inside of her frazzled cunt made her scream and pant, bucking back against the intruder. To shudder and nearly fall, as the sensation crashed in thundering waves on the inside of her fragile little girly mind. But Emily kept watching the girls, nonetheless.
The dance was only a few minutes long. Any longer and there would’ve been a riot. Instead, Bunny flicked her fingers, and her campers obediently scattered up the slopes of the shore, into the waiting ranks of boys. Each girl picked out one of the boy tribes. One girl for every twelve or so boys, but that didn’t seem like a challenge, at this point. That seemed like the bare minimum, for the involuntary nymphs.
Brian finished up, grunting as he spilled more seed into the inside of Emily’s wet slit. She straightened, to keep as much of it inside as possible. Brian pulled her shorts back up, for some reason. Then he led her up the slope as well, past eager lines of boys, and girls starting to fall onto their knees.
Reading was hard, but Emily recognized the cardboard cutout of the name of Brian’s tribe.
They were the Bobcats.
“Okay, Kitten,” he whispered, into her ear. “Here we go.”
Kitten nodded, eagerly, and fell to her knees.
She remembered the night in camera-flashes. Nothing else broke up the night of sucking and fucking, the automatic slurping on any cock presented, the obedient spreading for various cocks.
It was dark, too. There was only the embers of the bonfire, the stars overhead… and the flash of cameraphones to illuminate anything.
There were plenty of sounds, though. Wet sounds, with low moaning, punctuated by the not-infrequent scream of a girl cumming. Frequently muffled by the cock in her mouth.
First she was placed in front of Tribe Bobcat, the hot wind of the campfire lacing her mind with burnt gum, making her mouth water. Brian, temporarily spent, whispered for her to pull up her shirt. A cheering gallery of flashes bounced off her ripe tits, and she smiled for the geeks, big smiles at them all.
“Alphabetically,” Brian reminded them, and Kitten wondered what that meant.
Then the next flash, and she was bobbing, anxiously, on a fat spark plug of a cock. It smelled sweaty, and dripped into her throat a trickle of boy-cum. The boy it was attached to was tall, and she had to rise on her knees as far as she could in order to get it down her mouth. Technique was unnecessary; all she had to do was attack it with her tongue, sucking desperately for more fluid. Strange; she hadn’t eaten all day, except for the salty protein of sperm.
She held two other cocks, one in each hand, and rubbed at the undersides. One of them took a photo just as he came, and the picture caught her pretty face, with the big lips, getting drenched in month’s worth of pent-up cum.
Another flash, and the campfire was starting to fade, turning into a dark red jumble of logs. No one had any interest in rebuilding the inferno. Kitten’s skirt was pulled up around her waist, and she was on her hands and knees. She was tag-teamed between two shaking, tiny boys, about her size. They didn’t have the biggest dicks, which made it easy to push back and forth. The one behind her seemed entranced by the shaking of her ass, and kept squeezing her cheeks. Her only regret with the otherwise-filling feeling was that her tits were unattended.
“Smile, kitten,” someone said, for what seemed the millionth time. She tried to smile into the outstretched camera, but there was a cock in her mouth.
Flash. Some of the boys had fallen asleep, exhausted, half-naked on the beach. The rest had moved closer to the fading fire. It was mostly embers by this point. The moon was starting to fade, up in the sky.
Kitten bounced up and down on a tired boy, driving his cock inside her. She was past thinking in terms of orgasms, or sensation, or really, of anything. Fucking just felt ordinary. Crying out and nearly falling over was usual. If there wasn’t something rubbing against her clit, building up more lazy waves of pleasure, it was strange.
Her shirt had gotten torn off, in the melee, and her skirt was only still on because it didn’t get in the way. She pushed down on the cock in her snatch, felt her pelvis rock against her lover’s. He was sort of fat, and it was difficult to get over the top of his belly, but she rode him anyways. She picked herself up, rode the very tip in another glorious moment of stimulation, and let herself fall back down.
They were all moving closer to the fire, now. Which meant that Kitten caught occasional glances of other girls, in the flashes of cameras, as boys recorded their cum-shots. She had seen the two ex-goths collaborating on a single cock, which seemed like a ridiculous waste of time, with so many to be attended to. Candice, mouth open, to catch a half-dozen boys working their own dicks with furious intensity. And others, all glazed with sperm.
But not Bunny.
A few more weak flashes. But most of the boys, even the most enthusiastic, had given into the limits of their own endurance. A lifetime of sitting in front of computers and masturbation hadn’t given them any staying power. Especially when confronted with walking wet dreams. Sometimes Kitten had needed to sit on three cocks in a row, each one spouting off prematurely, before she could find one that would drive her over the top.
What was she doing? This wasn’t a cock. It was Alicia’s snatch, sticky and oozing cum. The remaining boys had placed the two in a crude sixty-nine. They had cheerfully responded, licking avidly at smooth snatches, encouraged and driven crazy by the oozing from well-filled cunts. The squishiness of boobs against each other didn’t hurt, either.
“Do you like this?” one of the boys asked, curious.
Kitten nodded. “This is fun!” she said, and licked extra hard, for emphasis. Alicia mewed, and licked harder herself, and talking was impossible again.
The sun rose, and Kitten woke up.
The gum-smoke had cleared away, along with the last of the bonfire. Which meant that the primal nymphomaniacal urge had faded, a bit, and let Kitten think of something other then the next cock in the line. Not that she felt capable of much more then addition, subtraction, and maybe some light looking at pictures.
The beach was not pretty, in the morning. Dozens of snoring nerds, most of them with their dicks still hanging out. Strewn among them, twelve girls, with perfect bodies, sore jaws, and happy expressions, and maybe a few brain cells between them.
Kitten stood up. Her knees were sore, and muddy. She was completely naked, and that was probably a bad thing, for reasons that would no doubt come to her. She idly tried to think of stuff, just to see what it was like. She could remember being smart, and doing Science stuff, and being into things like numbers. But they hardly seemed interesting. Kitten ran through the alphabet, and got most of the letters right, except for some of the tricky vowels.
And then Bunny was there, rousing from the center of a circle of boys. She picked her way through the dozing guys, and made her way to Kitten. The two hugged each other, giggling madly.
“Ohmygod, you should see your face!” Kitten said, tittering.
“Is it all cummy?” Bunny said, dabbing at it. “Yours is too, silly!”
They hugged again.
“I’m sorry I called you the B-word,” Kitten said, contrite. They walked away from the boys, so that no one would wake up. “I didn’t mean it! I want us to be sexy fuck girls together forever and touch your titties.”
Bunny nodded. She kept dabbing at her face, sucking more cum off it. “Me too!” she said. “And maybe we could do some book reading, if you want to.”
Kitten looked coy, and winked. “Maybe… for old time’s sake.”
There was something white and poofy on the ground. Kitten picked it up, examined it, then handed it over to Bunny. Her white cotton tail. The girl fastened it around her waist. That made one piece of clothing, between them.
Two early-risers emerged from the cabins, boys that had fallen asleep early, last night. They saw Kitten and Bunny, and walked over, with eager expressions.
Kitten and Bunny kneeled, next to each other, and opened their mouths.
EPILOGUE:
It was one week later, at the real end of Camp Science Preparation. The boys had already been sent off to begin, with great eagerness, future careers in the fields of Science. Camp Science Preparation prided itself on motivating leaders in the technical fields.
The twelve ladies of Camp Butterfly kneeled in a row, fresh from a much-needed shower. The Administrator and Brian gave each a wad of the antidote, and they started to chew. The drug took effect within a few minutes, and they keeled over, onto the floor. To wake up with normal bodies and extremely unsure memories.
Brian put Emily’s glasses back on. She hadn’t needed them, this past week.
“This is what, her second year?” the Camp Administrator said.
“One as a Camper, second as a Counselor,” Brian said. He had first met her eager mouth a year years ago, where the High School grad had been named Suk-me and kept around in schoolgirl skirts. “She really likes the Camp.”
“Huh,” The Administrator said. They both examined the small girl. She had been all-smiles for the entire week. The only problem had been keeping her from sneaking off for fun with Bunny. “Do you think she remembers any of this, on some level? And that keeps her coming back? Might be some weakness in the gum’s formula”
Brian thought about it. “Yeah, you know…” he said, “Maybe you’re right.”
“But personally? I think she’s just really into Science.”
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