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Subject: {ASSM} [RP] The Camp Nurse (Mf/MF/FF) [1/7] - CmpNrs01.txt (1/1)
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THE USUAL WARNINGS:  

This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind.  If you 
are offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or 
unnatural sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this 
type of material is illegal where you are, don't read 
any further.

This is a fantasy.  You will have to loosen your clench 
on reality a little when you read it. This is a tale in 
which physical acts and human responses are not limited 
to, nor necessarily based in, reality.  Some acts and 
responses in this story may be physically impossible 
and/or physiologically improbable.  

Also, as is the case with most of the stories in this 
newsgroup, all the women in this story are beautiful - 
gorgeous, even.  Gravity has not caused breasts to 
droop nor have wrinkles creased unblemished faces.  The 
men (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls.  
They can get it up and keep it up often and at will.  
In this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs, 
morals, or unwanted pregnancies.  Guilt is a four-
letter word.  Most important of all, neither strength 
of character, courage of convictions, nor moral belief 
stand a chance against any erotic stimulus.  This can 
be as benign as an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle 
or as stimulating as a whipping on the genitals.  

For those of you who didn't understand the preceding 
statements, GO AWAY!

This story is intended for the salacious entertainment 
of consenting adults.  Do not try to do any of the 
things described in this story.  You could injure 
yourself or your partner, be arrested, or shot by her 
father....

If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY!  This story 
will burn your eyeballs and fry your brain. 

If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited 
where you are, GO AWAY!

By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility 
for any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure 
that results from reading this story.  If you don't, GO 
AWAY!

You have been warned!

If you enjoy this story and feel the urge to post it on 
a <free> site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for 
it. 

So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy 
the story!....:) 

NightShade



















The Camp Nurse

Chapter 1.  The First Day

by NightShade

first posted 1/97, revised 12/98

Author's Note:  I hope you enjoy this story line.  
This first chapter takes a while to get going, but it 
does, eventually.  It's called plot development and 
generally makes a story more interesting.  The 
subsequent chapters should contain more SEX (which is 
what we're all here for, right?), but if you don't 
read this first chapter, you'll miss the plot.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

BLAM!

I heard the blast of the shotgun and my military 
training took over.  I dropped my bags and hit the 
dirt and rolled to my right, away from the sound.  I 
took inventory of my body, checking for wounds as I 
scurried for cover behind a slight rise in the terrain 
as it sloped up from the lake.  As I rolled, my sub-
conscience had registered the distinctive 'click-
click' of another round being chambered.  Even worse, 
I could hear the whop-whop-whop of the helicopter that 
brought me up here receding in the clear thin air.  I 
began to sweat.  It was the only way out of here.  I 
was going to die up here and didn't have a clue why.

I instinctively tried to locate the threat because 
whoever was shooting at me was really stupid.  The 
fucker had fired a warning shot.  My drill instructors 
always told me that you don't attack a shotgun, you 
run out of range or get behind something.  Then nail 
the bastard.  Anyone who had a clear shot with at you 
with a shotgun and missed, well, they were just plain 
stupid or blind.  

I figured the shooter was somewhere off to my left.  I 
couldn't see anyone or anything from where I was so I 
tried to crab over a ways to get a better angle.

BLAM!  click-click     BLAM!  click-click 

This time several good-sized branches fell on my back 
and I heard the bark of the trees right behind me 
being ripped away.  

SHIT!  I was dead meat.  The fucker wanted me alive, 
and, for some reason, that scared me more than dying.  
This was supposed to have been an easy gig, but it 
could have been a setup.  I suddenly realized I didn't 
know any of the major players, and worse, no one knew 
where I was.  On purpose.

I started to get up very slowly, keeping my hands in 
clear view over my head.  Might as well go out like a 
man - standing up - than die face down in the pine 
needles.  Besides, if I didn't get up soon, I'd pee in 
my pants.  Not from fear, mind you.  It had been a 
long two-hour flight out of Ontario Airport and there 
isn't a John on a helicopter.  

"Hold it right there, you mother-fuckin' bastard!  
Where the hell do you think you're goin'?"

It was a voice from your worst nightmare.  Shrill and 
angry.  PMS on steroids.  Pitched at just that one 
certain tone that made your bowels turn to water, kind 
of like fingernails on a blackboard, only worse, much 
worse.  I knew she was an ugly mother for sure, and I 
was face down and couldn't see her.  Worse, she had a 
shotgun.

"Mernnfroong gdnr nddnf."  It's difficult to talk 
clearly when your mouth is full of pine needles and 
moss.

"What did you say, you fuckin' bastard?  Speak up 
before I blow your head the hell off!"

"I'm looking for the camp administrator, Janet 
Crandell," I said after turning my head and spitting 
out the debris.

"What for?"

I don't know why, given my rather precarious situation 
at the time, but that question got my dander up.  (For 
those of you who don't know what 'dander' is, it's 
something that is usually a lot more comfortable when 
it gets up than something else that, when it gets 
'up,' tents your shorts and leaves a wet spot on your 
pants.  In certain circumstances, however, like the 
one I was currently in, dander, when it gets up, can 
be life threatening.  Clear?  I didn't' think so.)  I 
resented her question.

"Are you Ms. Crandell?" I asked her back, none too 
politely.

"Nope."

"Then it's really none of your GOD-DAMNED FUCKING 
business, is it?"  I yelled.  I started to get up.

BLAM!  click-click

She apparently didn't like my attitude any more than I 
liked hers.

"Stay down, you no-good, mother-fuckin' bastard!"

I stayed down.  As I lay there, I realized that I had 
heard several odd high-pitched sounds after that last 
shot that were familiar, but out of place in the 
current surroundings.  At first, I had dismissed them 
as birds, but they kept coming.  I couldn't locate 
where the sounds were coming from, but they seemed to 
come from all around.  Slowly turning my head to both 
sides, I spied several pairs of Nikes, Reeboks and 
Adidas in various pastel colors sprouting some of the 
finest pairs of young tanned healthy legs I had ever 
seen in my 23 years.

Then came 'The Voice' again:  "Stay back, girls.  It's 
a MAN!"  She said that last work like it would leave a 
dirty taste in her mouth.  I really think she meant it 
as a derogatory description of me, too.

One of the pairs of legs sassed back to her, "We KNO-
O-O-W" in typical teenage sarcasm.  I decided I liked 
that kid, whoever she was.  Several of the spectators 
giggled, and one or two others laughed outright.

The sound of running feet preceded the arrival of the 
authorities.  Help, I hoped, had arrived.

"Gertie, what's all the shooting about.  I hope you 
didn't hurt anyone.  I warned you about bringing that, 
that, that THING up here."

"I got one, Miss Crandell!" Gertie shouted excitedly, 
like I was rare specimen that she could make extinct 
and do the world a favor, like wiping out small pox.  
"I finally got one of those slimy no-good PRE-vert 
bastards trying to sneak into the camp!  I knew the 
little shits would show up sooner or later."

"Where, Gertie?  Where is he?"

"Over there, suckin' dirt."

I didn't see any of this, as I was still face down in 
the moss, taking no chances.

I heard or sensed someone come over to where I was 
lying.

"My name is Janet Crandell.  I am the administrator of 
this camp.  Who are you and what do you want?"  

The questions were put forward in a very business-like 
manner, but in a voice that would have melted the 
heart and resolve of the toughest CEO.  I also noticed 
she did not ask me to get up.

"My name is Chris Mattson.  I was hired to be your 
camp nurse."  I reached - very slowly - into my shirt 
pocket and handed her my contract.

There was dead silence for several minutes.

"May I get up, now?"  I asked this question after what 
seemed to me was enough time for her to have re-
written the entire contract, much less read it.

Not receiving an answer, I slowly raised my head up, 
just so I could look forward.  As I lifted my head up, 
I looked directly at a set of very shapely ankles.  I 
had never thought of ankles as all that sexy, but now.  
Wow!  If the rest of her looked that good, this must 
be heaven.  

I took not hearing a gun shot as a good sign, and I 
continued to lift my head up.  Smooth tight skin, 
toned calves, one knee bent slightly, the other 
locked.  Not a mark, not a mole blemished the evenly 
tanned legs.  Her thighs seemed to go on forever and 
all I could think of was how they might feel locked 
around my waist.  I could almost feel those firm leg 
muscles straining in ecstasy.

I shook my head to clear it of those erotic images.  
There was still a loaded weapon in the hands of the 
enemy.  This was no time to lose focus.  I pulled my 
hands under my chest and levered my upper body up.  My 
movements were slow and easy.  

My eyes passed over a slight swell of feminine hips 
fronting for a high-set, firm, tight ass inadequately 
covered by a pair of those clinging nylon running 
shorts.  There wasn't even a hint of a bulge over her 
pussy.  Her crotch was as flat as that of a world-
class athlete.  I didn't see any panty lines, and the 
shorts were tight enough that if they had been there, 
I would have.  I paused to pay homage to perfection.  
It isn't everyday I get to see a living epiphany.   

A few inches higher was a trim bare waist highlighted 
by one of the most perfect navels God ever created.  I 
paused again.  My breathing was becoming labored.  
Must have been the altitude, right?   Then came the 
highlight, the absolute showstoppers: a set of 
perfectly sized, high riding tits tightly encased in 
one of those sports-bra things.  It looked like the 
sports bra was gradually loosing the fight to contain 
them, but it was a glorious battle to watch.

"This is too fucking good to be true!" I thought, as I 
was finally standing erect.  In more than one sense.  
"If she's blonde, blue-eyed and gorgeous, I'll know 
this is a wet-dream."  I was still staring at her 
chest, although I towered above her 5'3" frame.  I was 
torn.  Why spoil a good wet dream with a shit-ugly 
face?  But it was becoming obvious, even to me, where 
I was looking.

I raised my eyes and looked at her face.  She was the 
woman of my dreams.  I had never visualized any one 
woman when I fantasized, but Ms. Crandell was all of 
them rolled into one tight package.  I pinched myself 
to see if this was a dream.   It wasn't.  This was 
better than a wet dream.  It was real!

Administrator Crandell stood all of 5'3'' - at most - 
and, with her clear face and youthful figure, didn't 
look old enough to be the administrator.  I idly 
wondered if she ever wore her blonde hair in curly 
pig-tails.  It would be just like an erotic Brady 
Bunch.

"Hi.  Uh, Boss?  I hope."  I stuck out my hand.

"Oh, yes.  Hello.  Uh, I'm sorry about the rude 
welcome, but there seems to have been some sort of 
terrible mistake.  This is an exclusive all-girls 
camp.  ALL girls."  She left my hand waving in the 
breeze so I took it back.  Not a good sign.

"And?  What's the problem?"

"Uh, well, uh, let's go up to my office and discuss 
this, OK?"  She waved her hands to indicate the throng 
of young girls who had surrounded us during this 
little scene.

When I said "OK," there was a corporate groan so full 
of teen-age hormones, I thought I felt a pimple 
growing.

We started up the path towards the large building she 
had indicated.  We had to go right past a solid 
Teutonic mass of flesh holding a 12-gauge pump action 
shotgun.  This had to be Gertie.  It didn't take a 
genius to figure that out.  

As I walked by her, I purposely stayed in a meek 
posture with my head bowed until I was next to her.  
Hey, it works with gorillas, and that's the immediate 
image I had when I first saw Gertie.  

There was palpable hate in her glare.  She felt safe 
and invincible holding the shotgun.  Stupid bitch.  
She let me get too close to her.  As I passed in front 
of her, I pretended to stumble.  It took her by 
surprise when I suddenly spun from below the muzzle of 
the shotgun, reached out and grabbed the gun from her 
fat, oversized hands.  Shocked at loosing her precious 
weapon, she just stood there, her mouth hanging open.  
I did a swift leg sweep to knock her legs out from 
under her.  She fell hard, knocking the wind out of 
her.  I swear to God, the earth shook when she landed.

I stood over her, staring down at her.  I resisted the 
training I had had to finish her.  My fist unclenched 
and the muscles trained to kill protested as I just 
looked at her.  I expected to see fear in her eyes, 
but Gertie surprised me.  All I saw was hate.  
Loathing.  Disgust.  You get the picture.  I was 
'MAN', ergo, I was "EVIL."  I shouldn't have 
hesitated.  The bitch had shot at me.  Self-defense, 
right?

As we stared at each other, I slowly pumped the 
shotgun and ejected the shells onto her body.  There 
were five shells in the gun and one in the chamber.  
Shit, she must have reloaded the damn thing while Ms. 
Crandell was talking to me.  I broke down the gun, and 
with a final glare at her, stuck it under my arm and 
continued up the path.

As I neared the office, I spied my bags neatly stacked 
back down at the dock by the heli-port, ready for an 
exit.  Even the two I had been carrying when the 
shooting started.  Not a good sign, again.

However, several minutes later, after a seriously 
heated discussion about sexual discrimination, 
lawsuits for breach of contract, etc., Janet Crandell 
gracefully conceded defeat.  Temporarily.  For the 
remaining part of this session only.  She needed a 
nurse to meet the insurance requirements; I was a 
bonified registered nurse; I had a signed and 
notarized contract.  Therefore, I was the new nurse at 
Camp Rah-Rah-Rah.

I wouldn't have been such a hard ass about it, but I 
really needed this job.  For several reasons, not all 
of them honorable.  To make a long story short, I had 
enlisted in the Navy because I wanted to be a Navy 
SEAL.  A real one, not the kind in the movies that 
even Demi Moore could qualify for.  It was what I had 
wanted to be from as far back as I can remember.  Once 
in the Navy, I worked so fucking hard I actually was 
selected for the SEAL training program.  It was the 
happiest day of my life and began the best part of my 
life, ever.  

The training was all I had dreamed of.  It was harder 
than anything you can imagine.  The DIs ran us until 
we couldn't stand up and then made us crawl back.  The 
next day we did it again, twice.  In between, we had 
classes.  Hand-to-hand, weapons, explosives, close-in 
killing, tactics, team-work.  I loved it.  Every 
fucking minute.  No matter what it was, what they did, 
I thrived on it.  It was what I was meant to be.  

Several of the guys I thought were tougher than I was 
dropped out due to injuries and dequals.  I was sorry 
to see them go, but it was their own fucking tough 
luck.  I thought this was the greatest thing ever, and 
now they would miss out.  

But disaster - and the Navy - has a way of ruining a 
perfectly good career choice.  I had almost finished 
with my SEAL training when I ran into that great 
unique military institution, the SNAFU.  You know, 
Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.  

A Pentagon computer somehow decided that I would make 
a good medic for the squad and that I should be 
trained not just as medic, but as a fucking registered 
nurse.  I was appalled, horrified.  Not at the idea of 
the schoolwork.  But that my squad I had trained with 
would be reformed without me and sent on active duty 
while I spent four years in nursing school.  I wanted 
to fucking kill and blow things up -on orders, of 
course! - not carry a first aid kit.  

I appealed all the way up the line.  Nothing could 
change the decision.  My commander appealed all the 
way up.  Senators and Representatives appealed all the 
way up.  Nothing.  

The fuckers in the Pentagon got pissed at all the 
commotion - and that they had made an obvious mistake 
- and almost wouldn't let me graduate from the SEAL 
program.  I couldn't have taken that blow, so I quit 
appealing, finished my SEAL training, and went to the 
Naval Hospital.  Four years later I became Lt. Chris 
Mattson, RN, USN (SEAL).

I wasn't assigned to a SEAL squad.  There weren't any 
openings for a RN.  Figures.  I started my first tour 
of duty at a land-based hospital.  I didn't last long.  

I guess you could say it had something to do with my 
looks.  The doctors didn't like the way I looked, but 
all the nurses did.  Well, two of the doctors liked 
me, but they both had tits.  The nurses' commander, my 
boss, was about the only person who saw me as just me.  
The other nurses all said she was just too old to 
care.  I didn't think so.  She was a good person, rare 
in my book, and that made her special.

I suppose I should describe myself.  I'm just over six 
feet tall, 180 lbs.  I've been told that if I grew a 
mustache, I would look like Tom Selleck, only better.  
I never considered myself all that handsome, but I 
never had trouble getting dates, either.  No tattoos, 
no scars.  Just your average guy.

Anyway, why I needed this job....  

It seems that my presence at the base hospital was 
causing quite a problem.  There were numerous 
complaints from the politically powerful doctors, and 
from several outside civilians, as well.  On the one 
hand, the doctors weren't getting anymore of the 
nurse-nookie they had been accustomed to getting.  
Neither was I, but that fact didn't seem to be 
relevant to the horny bastards.  They had all heard of 
my SEAL training, and were too smart and too chicken 
to attack me directly.  So they filed complaints about 
me.

On the other hand, there were four or five catfights 
in the nurse's locker room, the last one requiring 
major reconstruction surgery.  For some reason, the 
nurses were apparently fighting over me.  God knows, I 
did nothing to encourage them.  Well, OK, almost 
nothing.  But it wasn't my fault, really!

When the first female doctors had been assigned to the 
hospital, the male doctors had insisted that, on the 
basis of maintaining discipline, all the doctors, 
regardless of gender, had to use the Doctor's Lounge 
to change into their Operating Room scrubs and to 
shower after work.  

So when I showed up, the nurses, more for spite than 
anything else, insisted that I use their locker room 
to change.  So some of them might have seen me naked 
and erect in the shower.  Hey, what's a guy to do?  
They were naked, too.  I got excited and got a hard 
on.  You'd have thought they had never seen a 10" 
prick before.  I mean, don't all guys have one?

Anyway, after the last fight, the commander called me 
into her office.  We had a long heart-to-heart about 
my future in the Navy, how she understood how 
frustrated I was.  She knew that I didn't want to 
treat people in the hospital, but I wanted to put 
people in the hospital.  She then advised me that both 
of the nurses involved in the most recent fight were 
married to guys that were very hotheaded, jealous, and 
were `connected.'  

While she was sure I could probably take care of 
myself, she suggested it might be safer for all 
involved if I was to make myself scarce for a long - 
she emphasized that word 'long' - time.  It seems that 
none of the nurse's husbands had been getting any 
nurse nookie either, and were really pissed at me.  
One of the nurses had already reported that about 20 
of the husbands had met.  The hospital commander, one 
of the husbands at the meeting, had quietly told her 
to `fix' the problem before anyone else got hurt.

She put me on an indefinite leave of absence.  The 
commander quietly suggested I contact a placement 
agency she knew of that handled RNs.  I did.  The 
agency said they had an immediate opening at an 
isolated kids summer camp with no access, only 
helicopter, and I was perfect, just what they were 
looking for.  

Within the hour, I was airborne and, here I was.  The 
staff at the agency either didn't know or didn't care 
that Camp Rah-Rah-Rah was an all girls cheerleading 
camp.  Or perhaps they just assumed that a nurse would 
be female.  Or perhaps because my name is Chris and 
not Christopher.  Who knows?  Who cares?  I was here.

Camp Rah-Rah-Rah was built in an abandoned government 
facility in a hidden valley about 5000' up in one of 
the endless mountain ranges of the West.  It sat on a 
glacier-fed lake and was protected from the weather by 
high peaks on all sides.  The outlet stream from the 
lake plunged over a 300' waterfall about a mile down 
stream, effectively sealing off the valley.  It was 
beautiful.

The camp was originally intended to be a training 
facility of some kind.  Maybe the Forest Service 
wanted to train the rangers how to fly fish or 
something.  But that's beside the point.  There were 
several million tax dollars at work here, all of which 
the beautiful Janet Crandell had acquired for a mere 
pittance at auction.  The camp was entirely self-
contained with running water, huge underground 
warehouses that she had turned into a year-round 
training area, luxury hotel/dormitory accommodations 
for up to 200 people, kitchens, satellite 
communications, even a self-contained unit generating 
electricity from the water fall.  It was typical 
government overkill.

Janet explained all this to me as she took me over to 
the medical building.  It was a good-sized out-
building, attached to the main housing area by a long 
corridor.  I felt like a giant walking next to her 
diminutive form, but she never seemed to notice.  I 
lugged my bags, the sum total of my earthly 
belongings, and fell in love with her voice as she 
gave me the nickel tour.

The dispensary I was in charge of was typical of the 
lavish style of the rest of the compound.  There was 
actually a small OR with an emergency generator.  The 
clinic had not been used for quite a while, so I spent 
the rest of that first day getting it into shape.  
Mostly dusting and organizing, familiarizing myself 
with the medical stocks.  I had intended to make a 
list of things to order, but after two hours I hadn't 
been able to find anything to write down.  As I was 
beginning to notice about all the things Ms. Janet 
Crandell did, this place was very well equipped.

About 3:00 I heard the helicopter coming back up the 
valley.  Thinking perhaps that she had changed her 
mind, I went to the window to see what was going on.  
I could see the Heli-port from the dispensary window.  

I watched in wry amusement as Janet Crandell and 
Gertie pantomimed out a dramatic scene worthy of the 
best silent pictures.  Janet would point at the 
chopper and Gertie would shake her head 'No'.  Another 
firm gesture towards the chopper by Janet, and Gertie 
would hang her head and shuffle a couple of steps 
towards the machine.  She would then turn and say 
something, holding up her clasped hands in 
supplication, begging, only to collapse against 
Janet's resolve.  

Then the whole process would begin again.  Janet would 
point, Gertie would plead.  Point, shuffle, beg, 
point, plead.  Gertie obviously did not want to leave. 

But she did and the chopper faded away for the second 
time that day.  I felt better about this one leaving.

The phone rang - did I mention they had their own 
phone system? - and Janet's assistant informed me that 
a Staff meeting was to be held at 4:00 before dinner.

I showered, shaved and dressed in my best nurse whites 
to meet the staff.  I followed her directions to the 
boardroom.  I was early and was able to greet each 
arriving staff member.  Being a gentleman, I stood up 
as each one came in the door.  All of them had heard 
the news by now, if not all the shooting.  They were 
all looking forward to meeting me.  Apparently, all of 
them had also showered and shaved (I guess) and were 
wearing the most attractive or flattering clothing 
they had with them.  And not a wedding ring in the 
bunch.

I would describe each of them individually, but this 
is a short story.  Suffice it to say that each one of 
them was either a current or an ex-Cheerleader at a 
major University or pro sports team, and that there 
wasn't a ounce of excess weight on any of them.  And 
with what they were - or weren't - wearing, I could 
tell.  You get the picture.  They were all outgoing, 
smart, friendly, confident of their womanhood, and 
exceptionally beautiful.  Excellent role models for 
the young girls at the camp.

The buzz in the room quieted down when Janet walked 
in.  Or should I say floated in.  I never noticed her 
move her feet, but she was suddenly at the head of the 
table, calling the meeting to order.  Before she 
spoke, she surveyed the female staff, and grinned a 
wry smile.

"All right, people, a few things on the agenda.  One, 
you have probably heard the news, but I would like to 
formally present our camp nurse, Mr. Chris Mattson.  
Please introduce yourselves and make him feel 
welcome."

A titter of giggles swept the room.  I blushed.  So 
did Janet.

"Not THAT welcome, ladies!"

That broke up the room, and the ice.  The sexual 
tension that had been building around us disappeared. 
When the laughter died down, she continued.

"Second, you are probably also aware that Gertie is no 
longer with us."  There were a few repressed cheers, 
which Janet glared at with honest disapproval  "I'm 
sure we will all miss her in our own ways, but it does 
leave a couple of holes in the class roster.  We will 
need to spread out her responsibilities.  First, I 
need a volunteer to take over her campers."

A tall redhead raised her hand.  "I could take some of 
them.  They're all the same age as my girls, so it 
should fit OK."  She flashed me a shy smile as she 
finished speaking.

A tawny, gorgeous black woman quickly spoke up, "Me, 
too.  I'll take the other half."  Another shy smile in 
my direction.

"Thank you, ladies.  Work it out between you."  She 
looked down at the teaching schedule.  "OK.  Next, is 
there anyone who quilts?"

There was a long silence.  

"Anyone?  Please?"

Finally, a quiet voice spoke up behind Janet.

"None of the campers had signed up for that particular 
class, Miss Crandell."

Several of the staff tried to cover up their smiles.  
It wasn't nice, but it was funny.

Janet shot her assistant a pained smile.

"OK, well, that takes care of that.  Now, how about 
the self-defense training?  I know that all the girls 
have to take that course."

Another long silence.

Finally I spoke up.  "What type of training are you 
looking for?  Hand-to-hand or shotguns?"

The room broke up.  I probably shouldn't have said 
anything, but the bitch had shot at me.  The look on 
Janet's face wasn't pretty, but I had another card up 
my sleeve.

"Mr. Mattson, this is a serious meeting.  Please keep 
your comments appropriate."

All right, I deserved that.

"I apologize, Ma'am.  But I do have extensive training 
in hand-to-hand fighting and weapons.  Navy SEAL 
training, to be exact.  I could put together a 
training program for your campers.  From the response 
of your staff for a request for volunteers, I could 
include training for them as well, if you want."

Janet's face went from suspicious to surprised to 
relieved.  When I made the offer to train the staff as 
well, you would have thought the home team had just 
scored the winning touchdown.  The cheers, whistles, 
and applauding went on for several minutes.

When it finally quieted down, Janet said, "Well, it 
seems as if we have a new self-defense instructor.  
And a new staff course, as well."  She looked around 
at all the female staff.  "All staff personnel will 
participate in that course," she continued.

An emphatic, over-loud whispered "YESSSssss!!!" from 
her mousey assistant broke up the room again and the 
meeting as well.  Janet resignedly waved them away out 
of the room and sat at the head of the table shaking 
her head.  She was smiling, however.  She motioned for 
me to stay as the room cleared.

"You seem to have caused quite a stir, Mr. Mattson.  I 
haven't seen that much makeup on my staff in the four 
weeks we've been here."

"Please, call me Chris, Miss Crandell..."

"Janet."

"OK, Janet.  Look, I apologize for the remark about 
Gertie, but she did kind of start things."

"Don't think anything of it.  She was really out of 
place here, but I couldn't get rid of her without a 
reason.  You provided that reason, so in a way, I 
should be grateful to you.  However, I won't have you 
making negative comments about anyone, and I mean 
anyone, in a staff meeting, or anywhere else for that 
matter.  Do you understand, mister?  I don't work that 
way."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"That sounded like there should be a salute with 
that," she chuckled.

"Sorry.  Just habit, I guess."

"Well.  Let's go to dinner.  I'll show you to your 
table."

"'My' table?"

"Yes.  All the staff spread out around the room and 
sit in different areas.  I feel this encourages 
informal interaction between the staff and campers.  
You have an assigned table.  The campers do not.  They 
may sit where they like."

By that time we were at the door to the dining area.  
The hubbub of noise from room came through the double 
swinging doors and filled the hall where we were 
standing.

Janet looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a crooked 
smile.  "Ready to face the enemy, sailor?"

"Aye-Aye, Skipper," I grinned back at her as I held 
the door open for her.  Apparently she wasn't 
expecting that because she gave me a very pleasant and 
appreciative smile as she ducked under my arm and into 
the room.

It was like a switch had been switched off.  There was 
dead silence in the room.  Even the kitchen staff 
stopped banging on the pots and pans.  All eyes were 
on Janet and me as we made our way over to what was to 
become 'my' table.  The silent eyes follow us every 
step of the way around the large room to the far back 
corner, as yet unpopulated by diners.

"This was Gertie's area.  She never seemed to attract 
that many diners.  You just inherited it.  Looks like 
tonight you'll get to eat in peace.  Or you can join 
me if you like."

"No thanks, Janet, I'd better not.  I wouldn't want 
them to think I couldn't handle dinner on my own."

"Suit yourself, sailor," she flipped over her shoulder 
as she walked away.  With that wiggle in her hips, I 
could have almost sworn she was flirting with me.  
Regardless, I was getting stiff just watching her walk 
away towards the food line.  Or maybe it was being in 
the middle of all that young hot stuff.  You see, 
there was a reason I had never taken advantage of any 
of the freely available nurse nookie at the base 
hospital.  It was all too old for my taste.  I liked 
mine young.  18 at the oldest.  There was something 
about a girl turning into a mature woman that turned 
me off.  I don't know.  I always associated mature 
women with my Mom.  And fat.  Not obese, just rounded, 
padded figures.  I liked mine lean and mean.

Which was why Janet, even though she was obviously 
over 18, interested me.  She looked and acted young.  
And she would continue to look young for a long, long 
time.  She looked more fuckable the longer I looked at 
her.

I broke my stare when I felt a tugging on my pants 
leg.

"Hey, Mister.  Can I sit with you?"

I looked down to see an absolutely doll faced innocent 
young girl standing next to me.  Her big brown eyes 
looked up at mine and she batted her eyelids in a most 
seductive manner.  I just about came then and there.  
This was going to be harder -literally - than I 
thought.

"Sure.  Just let me go get my tray."

"OK.  I'll wait here."

I went off in the direction Janet had gone to get her 
dinner.  There was nothing special about the menu, 
mostly healthy food, as would be expected.  I piled up 
my tray with what was apparently a surprising amount 
of food from the looks of the food servers.  I grinned 
at each one as I went by, and they just blushed and 
piled on more food.  Way to a man's heart and all 
that...

By the time I returned from the food line and got back 
to by table, my section was full.  The only empty 
chair was mine.  I looked around and caught one of the 
other staffer's eye.  I motioned to her now nearly 
empty section and I made a questioning gesture of 
'what's going on?'  She just laughed.  

I sat down to 11 pairs of eyes.  But I couldn't tell 
you what color they were right then because all I 
noticed, on the QT, of course, was 11 pairs of fresh 
young tits.  Firm, gorgeous, unfettered youthful tit-
flesh.  A veritable feast of flesh.  In all my 
favorite sizes from grapes to walnuts to oranges.  The 
eyes around the table finally caught my attention and 
I smiled.  I swear one of them swooned - or at least 
sighed heavily.

I began small talk around the whole table, getting 
even the shyest ones to speak up.  I let them fill me 
in on the rules, the schedules, what they liked, etc.  
Stuff they knew about, non-threatening.  They didn't 
have nametags, but I remembered most of their names by 
the end of dinner.  The conversation lagged a couple 
of times, but with a well-placed question, it picked 
up again.  Once it was stopped abruptly by a water 
glass being spilled.  The girl who spilled it had been 
rather quiet throughout the dinner, and now sat there 
jerking and shaking in her chair.  A flush rose up her 
neck and spread over her cheeks.  She gasped audibly 
in an OH-OH-OH manner, and then slumped down in her 
chair with a queer smile on her face.

Being the nurse, I immediately jumped up and rushed to 
her side.  I picked her up in my arms and rushed to 
the dispensary with her.  Surprisingly, only Janet 
followed.  Sarah, the girl, closed her eyes, rested 
her head on my chest, wrapped her arms around my neck 
and held on tightly.  

At first I thought she was just scared and tried to 
comfort her and held her close.  I didn't know what to 
think might be wrong with her, but I noticed that my 
shirtsleeve was moist where it went under her legs.  
She still shuddered every once in a while and clung 
tightly to me.

I got to the dispensary and laid her gently on one of 
the examining tables.  She didn't want to let go of my 
neck.  Gently prying her hands apart, I began my 
examination.  I called up her records on the computer 
to check for epilepsy.  Nothing.  I check for 
allergies.  Nothing.  I checked for anything.  
Nothing.  I began to get nervous.  It didn't help that 
I was being watched.

Janet had entered the room while I checked the 
computer.  She had this kind of amused look on her 
face as she watched me work.  And work, and work some 
more, without a result.  I began to get panicked.  My 
first case, and I was a flop!  I checked reflexes, 
muscle tone, everything.  I could find nothing, but a 
state of extreme relaxation and wet spot between her 
legs that I blamed on the spilled water.

The panic must have been apparent because Janet called 
me over to her.

"Are you going to carry every girl down here after she 
orgasms?" she whispered.

"WHAT?"  I looked at her with disbelief.  She pointed 
to the wet spot on my shirtsleeve.

"Smell it."

The tangy aroma was unmistakable.  

"You didn't see her?"

I shook my head.  I had honestly not been aware that 
she had been stroking herself under the table.

"God, the whole room knew what was going on.  These 
girls have been up here for two weeks without their 
boyfriends.  Some, actually most of them are pretty 
sexually active.  They get kind of horny from about 
this point on.  For the next two weeks of their time 
here it will only get worse.  I kind of expected 
something like this to happen, just not this soon."

"Gee, thanks for warning me!"

Janet grinned up at me.  "Hey, it's been 4 weeks for 
me and the staff, too!  Why should I give you a 
break?"

I almost grabbed her then and there and tossed her on 
the bed.  Unfortunately, the bed still had Sarah on it 
and she was watching us intently.  I went over to her.

"Feeling better?"  I asked her quietly

She nodded her head 'Yes.'

"Do you need to get some rest or will it be OK to 
release you?"

"Can't I stay here tonight?"  I slept in the next room 
and I think she knew it.

"No, I really don't think that will be necessary."

"But what if it happens again?"

"Do you think it might?"

Again she nodded, shyly this time, like a scared 
little girl.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear so Janet 
couldn't hear. "Then grab your pillow and hug it tight 
to you.  You can think of me if you want, or your 
boyfriend.  OK?"

I grabbed one of her hands in one of mine, knelt on 
one knee, brought her hand up to my lips and kissed 
her on the palm of her hand.  

Sarah flushed, squealed, grinned and jumped up, all at 
the same time.  She winked at Miss Crandell and ran 
back to the dining hall.  She came back to the door 
and said "Thank you, Mr. Mattson" to me, then left 
again.

"WHAT did you tell her?"

"That is a trade secret!  You'll just have to do the 
same thing she did if you want to find out, won't 
you?"  With that, she blushed deep red, turned and 
walked back towards the dining room.  About half way 
down the hall, she turned back.

"By the way, that was a good job in there.  You did 
everything right.  If it had been serious, you would 
have found it.  Glad to have you aboard."

With that she went back and finished her dinner.

I smiled to myself as I watched her walk away.  There 
was a bit more wiggle in her walk this time, I 
noticed.  I wonder if she had noticed my erection.  It 
would have taken a blind woman not to.

The rest of dinner passed with no further orgasms or 
fainting spells.  The girls in the rest of the hall 
had filed out long ago, but my area was still all 
there.  Janet finally came over to rescue me, claiming 
a 'meeting' I had to get to.  The girls actually 
groaned, and I realized then how erotic that sounded.  
It was so close to the moan that escapes those parted 
lips when you're teasing a fresh one into her first 
fuck.  You get them to the edge, then pull back.  Do 
it again, and again and again.  When they're 
delirious, they are yours for the picking.  Cherry 
picking.

So it was with more than a little difficulty that I 
stood up.  My prick was stiff and cramped in my 
shorts.  I have always had to keep it aimed down, just 
in case something like this happened, because if it 
was pointed up, it would pop up out over my belt.  
That had happened to me one time in Jr. High School, 
but I learned quick.  

So my meat was sticking down my pant leg and was kind 
of swollen.  I guess I underestimated the length a 
little because there were several gasps when I stood.  
Until I adjusted my pants leg, my Ol' John Henry was a 
good two inches out in the open.  I kept going as if 
nothing was the matter, but even Janet's eyes were 
wider than normal.

"Shall we go, Miss Crandell?"  I asked, holding out my 
arm to her.

"Y-Yes, Mr. Mattson.  Yes."  She was still shaken by 
what she had glimpsed, or thought she had, or was it 
that she hoped she had.  Her grip on my arm was 
possessively tight.

I dropped her off at her office and thanked her for 
rescuing me.  I almost got her in a clinch right then, 
but her assistant happened by, so I said good night to 
them both.

The remainder of the evening I spent unpacking my kit 
and finishing straightening up in the clinic.  I 
listened to the bells as they rang, remembering the 
schedule the girls at dinner had told me.  

9:00  In Rooms.  

9:30  In Beds  

10:00  Lights Out.  

Like clockwork I could see the lights across the way 
blink out.  They were all out on this side of the 
dormitory within a minute of each other.  I wondered 
absently if the little minxes were that obedient at 
home.  My light soon followed and I crawled into bed 
for what I hoped would be a long peaceful sleep.

I couldn't have been more misguided.  Within 30 
minutes I heard the door to my room quietly push open.  
I pretended to be asleep, which wasn't hard, given how 
tired I was.  For a while I couldn't hear anything at 
all, and I was just beginning to think it was my 
imagination when a tiny hand was laid gently across my 
lips.

"SSSShhhhhh.  Don't say a word," came an unfamiliar 
whisper.  A second small hand soon grasped my now 
throbbing cock and began to rub it up and down.

"OOOOhhhhhhh, Daddy, that feels good.  Let me kiss it 
for you."

That whisper was followed by a hot sucking sensation 
that nearly pulled my balls back up into my groin.  
This kid could give head!  Or was it Janet?  The size 
was about right.

The mysterious little nymph suddenly quit blowing me 
and straddled my cock.

"OOOOHhhhh, Daddy, you make me so hot.  I've got to 
have you inside me."

A small squeal escaped as my cock was enveloped in one 
of the tightest pussies it had had the pleasure to 
penetrate.  I was surprised when the kid took it all.  
Most have to work up to it in four or five fuckings.

"OOOOOOOOOhhhh, Daddy!  You're so biiiig.  You filled 
me all the way u-u-u-uu-u-up"  

Little miss nasty collapsed on my chest.  I held her 
gently, tweaking her little tits and erect nipples as 
she lay there until she gathered her wits together.  
Then with a quick kiss and a whispered 'Thank You, Mr. 
Mattson!' she was gone.

I had just begun to drift off again when the door 
opened again.  This time I was a substitute for 
"Billy".  Then "Tommy".  Then "Daddy" again, twice 
more.  Then "Billy" was back.  I asked this one if 
this was seconds, and she said 'No'.  I told her she 
may want to check up on her two-timing boyfriend, 
Billy, when she got home.  For over two hours the 
parade kept up.  For a while I wondered if there was a 
schedule or something.  I thought about how ridiculous 
it would look if there were a line outside my door.  

The only differences I could tell in all the visitors 
that night were height, weight, tits and twats.  The 
tits I felt ranged in size from just bare nipples only 
to those that were more than a mouthful.  The twats 
were all tight, some more than others and all were 
wet.  But even after what must have been twenty 
orgasms on my cock, I had yet to spill my seed.  These 
cunts were so primed that they only took 5 or so 
minutes to get off, then 3 to cool down and then gone.  
Slam, bam, thank you sailor.  That was a new twist!  
Each tryst ended with a kiss and a whispered "Thank 
you, Mr. Mattson."  I began to suspect a plot.

The last visitor was the most memorable of them all.  
The time between visitors was a bit longer and I was 
actually asleep when I awoke to a hot mouth on my cum-
coated cock.  What a way to wake up!  

But something about this one was different.  More 
experienced, maybe.  Softer, fuller lips, perhaps.  
When she got on board, she was quiet.  I wasn't a 
substitute for anyone with this one.  She came almost 
as fast as the others and as she was resting on my 
chest, I breathed in deep, smelling the wonderful 
fragrance of her hair.  I played with her firm 
breasts, tweaking her stiff nipples.  She groaned deep 
in her throat and began to rotate her hips again.  
Then she raised herself up and leaned over me, 
propping herself up on my chest with her hands, 
letting her boobs sway as she rode my prick like a 
pro.  

I really worked on her tits, massaging and squeezing.  
I focused on the stiff flesh of her nipples, rolling 
them between my thumb and forefingers, first firmly, 
then with increasing pressure.  My ministrations 
affected her and she worked harder and harder on my 
cock, trying to get me off.  She must have gone 
through six or seven of her own shuddering orgasms, 
fighting her way through them to keep humping my log 
until I felt myself swelling in her.  As I spurt my 
cum into her belly, she pressed her lips to mine to 
gag us both.  We both yelled into the other's oral 
cavity as the moment seized us.

She lay there a long while this time, quietly twirling 
the hair on my chest.  Then finally, with a sigh, she 
gave me a light kiss and a whispered, "Thank you, 
sailor", she was gone.  I was still laughing as I fell 
asleep.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

End of chapter

I hope you enjoyed it.    :)

All my published works are archived and can be read or 
downloaded free at 

     http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/authors/NightShade/

Comments to  i_m_nightshade@hotmail.com


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