The Orderlies Take Her Away

Just as she declared her triumph over Franz, Sam began to feel woozy. She started to slump down on his waist and had had trouble concentrating. She could make out two more orderlies walking in as the room blurred, then faded out of view.

Sam woke up with a start. last thing she remembered was... "mmmmm" she started feeling a tingle as she thought about Franz' cock. The momentary distraction dissipated when she realized she was no longer in a prison cell, but some kind of dormitory. She sat up in a white bed with white covers. She looked around to see two rows of beds. Next to each one, a set of cubby-style shelves held a stack of uniforms and, at many bunks dildos and sex toys of all shapes and sizes. At one end she saw two bathroom entrances, one for showers and another for toilets. On the other, the top of a spiral staircase and, next to it, a door that said "meeting room."

Ripping the sheets off of herself, Sam found herself clothed in khaki booty shorts and a bright yellow t-shirt, which read "Camp Everwood." She found her incredibly comfortable, which didn't make sense because, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, it looked she could barely fit her tits and ass inside them.

"The clothes here are made from a special material that conforms to your body," said a confident voice. "They were designed especially for you, so you will look positively... delicious... every single day."

Sam jumped and turned around to find perfectly proportioned man with a blonde crew cut standing before her wearing nothing but a towel. "Who the fuck are you!?" She asked incredulously.

"I'm Stuart," he replied in a calm tone., one of your counsellors. Welcome to camp, Sam. Sorry, I would shake your hand or hug you, but my towel would..." She looked and saw Stuart was holding his towel closed because his big, hard cock was pushing it out so far it couldn't possibly stay together on its own.

"How do you know..." she asked, confused.

"How do I know you? I was told you were coming, of course!" Stuart said. "I was informed that your intake did not go so smoothly, so I wanted to be here when you got up to make sure everything was ok.

This is bunk two. All the cabins have a floor for guys and a floor for girls. The Girls can go down to the guys floor whenever they want, but no men other than Frankie and I, your counselors, can come up here."

"Ok..." Sam was processing and Stuart seemed nice enough. Or at least she wanted him to be. "So is this place a sex camp or an anti-sex camp?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmmm... Well, it's both I guess," Stuart began to explain. "Dr. Vandersloot's studies suggest that people with hyper-active sex drives can get control of their urges by getting the need for sex "out of their system." So patients go to normal summer-camp activities every day —yoga, arts and crafts, stuff down by the lake— but a lot of them just end up fucking each other like crazy until, one day, they decide they're more interested in doing the activities...

And that's when the real work begins," Stuart said with a stern face, clearly impersonating someone Sam didn't know. "Oh sorry," he said, realizing the faux pas, "I was doing my best Dr. Cleavarich. She was my therapist when I was a camper."

"So you were a patient?" Sam asked, confused by notion that someone would choose to stay here.

"Yeah, but we like to call you all campers. You know, maintain the illusion." Sam giggled as he put his hand over his face and wiggled his magic "illusion" fingers.

"So are you cured?" Sam asked.

"Well I don't think any of us is ever 'cured' really, and I do still attend counseling. But I was allowed to become a counselor because I can keep it together long enough to help out, which is more than most campers... I mean, when I was a camper I would not have been able to keep my towel on like this. I would have just..."

Stuart dropped the towel, allowing a solid 10-inch dick to leap forward towards Sam.