Camp Long Trees (m+/F) (Chapter 4 posted 6/12/23)

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Camp Long Trees (m+/F) (Chapter 4 posted 6/12/23)

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I: First day of camp


It was the summer before my first year of college. To make some money so I could start saving up for student loans (my grades weren’t all that great), I took a job as a camp counselor for an eight-week all-boys sleepaway camp, Camp Long Trees (the all-girls camp, Camp Flora, had done all their hiring earlier that year). I wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of playing babysitter for a bunch of young and teen boys for two months (the age range was for boys between 12 and 16), but the pay was excellent. Also, I figured there’d have to be at least one other girl who was a counselor I could bond with.

After I arrived at the front gate of the camp on the first afternoon, I was approached by a young guy with dark skin, short black hair, khakis, socks with sandals (amazingly, he pulled the look off), and a light blue shirt with the camp logo on the front. He looked to be a bit older than me. “You must be Elena Del Rio.”
“That’s me.”

“I’m Ben, Ben Bivens,” he introduced himself as he handed me a camp shirt for me to wear. “I’m the head camp counselor. We’re so excited to have you. Here, I can show you where you’ll stay for your time here.”

Ben guided me through the camp, past the mess hall, the activity center, and the cabins where the boys would be staying. I was expecting him to guide me into one of them. Instead, we walked past all the larger cabins and toward a smaller cabin.

“Here we are,” Ben announced as he opened the door.

I entered the cabin, where there was only one bed, one set of furniture, and a bathroom off to the side. “Wow. Do all the counselors have their own little place like this?” I asked.
“No, each one is assigned a cabin with the other boys. Since you’re the only female counselor here, we figured you’d be more comfortable with your own sleeping accommodations.”

I raised my eyebrow. “I’m the only girl here?”
“Yep. We were quite surprised that you signed up for an all-boys camp. Our only female counselor was a girl a few years ago. Ever since then, it’s only been guys.”

While I was still processing that information, Ben was already halfway out the door. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. Put your stuff away, and then come out and mingle. Remember: be at the opening bonfire tonight at 8.”

After he left, I unpacked my bags. I opened the dresser to find a few different-colored shirts with the camp logo. There were also some different colored matching bandanas. I seldom used bandanas as an accessory, but I figured I might as well start to use them since they were given to me.

I decided on an outfit: the light blue camp shirt Ben had given me earlier, a matching bandana (tied with a bow on my forehead), white denim shorts, and red sneakers. I tied my long black hair in a braid, then went out to meet some people.

Through the sea of boys, the first counselor I met was a guy with curly dirty blonde hair, glasses, blue denim shorts, and a blue bandana headband over his forehead. He had the same color camp shirt as me, though his shirt was tied a bit with a rubber band to show off a bit of his (toned) midriff. “I’m Jason McClean,” he greeted with some dramatic flair in his voice. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Another counselor I met was named Yoshi Himiro. He had jet black hair combed to the left side of his hair to where it almost touched his eye. He wore the same shirt and khakis and had a blue bandana hanging around his neck like a cowboy, and I noticed he had Pokeball earrings. “I think the hardest part of camp is gonna be withdrawal from playing video games. Do you play Pokemon at all?” he asked.

I was tempted to screw with him by saying I only played Digimon.

Between meeting counselors, many of the boys came up to say hi to me. Many seemed surprised to learn that there’d be one female counselor. They all acted friendly, though I could definitely spot some mischievous glances exchanged between them. Finally, I noticed a counselor standing off to the side under the shade of a tree. He wore the camp shirt, blue denim shorts, and dark shades. “Hi,” I greeted. “I’m Elena.”

“Ken,” was his one-word response.
“So, needed some shade already?” I joked.
“I needed to…get away from it all,” he answered.

He said that like he was trying to get away from a Black Friday crowd after working a twelve-hour shift. In fact, it sounded like he was exhausted just from talking with me. I wondered how he’d make it eight weeks watching over children.

oOo

At the opening bonfire, the camp owner, Lamar Bivens (Ben’s uncle, which I guess is how he got the job), spoke, welcoming everyone to the camp. He then had each counselor come up and introduce themselves.

“Hi, I’m Elena Del Rio,” I greeted everyone when it was my turn. “I know that I’m the only girl around here. But just because I’m a girl in an all-boys camp doesn’t mean I’m gonna take any nonsense from you guys. So let’s all get along, and we’ll have an awesome summer.”

At the end of the bonfire, as we all headed back toward our cabins, I wasn’t looking where I was walking and tripped over a pinecone. As I pulled myself up, I noticed a few boys snickering, especially one boy with a stupid freckled face.

This was my first chance to show these boys not to mess with me. As he was walking away, I stood up, grabbed the pinecone, and threw it at the back of his head. He was wearing a grey hoodie, so the pinecone bounced off his head like a backboard on a basketball hoop and landed in his hood.

“You’re right, kid. Pinecones are funny!” With that, I ran off to my cabin while his friends turned their laughter toward him.

oOo

High off my little victory, I had gotten changed to go to sleep, dressing in a white t-shirt, teal pajama shorts, and lavender socks. I had a pink headband holding back my hair as I prepared to sleep.

After reading for a bit, I saw that the clock said it was 11 PM. That was when campers and counselors were expected to go to bed so they’d be awake at 7 AM the following day. I put my book down, turned off the lights, pulled the blankets up, and closed my eyes…

…only for there to be a knock on my door.

I pulled myself out of bed and poked my head out the door. “Who-” I got out before a pillowcase was suddenly thrust over my head. The door was forced open, and I felt several arms wrestle me to the ground. I heard my dresser drawer open, my arms were forced behind me, and my wrists were tied with a cloth, as were my elbows. That was the same case for my ankles and knees. All this time, someone was placing their hands over my mouth to stop me from screaming. I did try to scream, but their hands (and the pillowcase, to a lesser extent) kept me quiet.

The hands over my mouth were removed for a second, and the pillowcase was slightly raised so my mouth was exposed. But before I could shout, a knotted cloth was shoved between my teeth and tied behind my hair before the pillowcase was pulled back down.

As quickly as I had been ambushed, I heard my assailants exit my cabin. “Welcome to camp, Elena,” I heard someone say before the door was closed, leaving me alone while all tied up.
Last edited by TamatoaShiny123 9 months ago, edited 3 times in total.
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Post by Beaumains »

Good stuff as always. I always love that there always so many little jokes and details in your stories to enjoy.

But Elena is only a few years older than all the boys. This promises to be very very interesting. The gendertag already gives some spoilers. Poor girl.
TamatoaShiny123 wrote: 10 months ago Also, I figured there’d have to be at least one other girl who was a counselor I could bond with.
I am not sure why you wrote other girl, but the remainder of the sentence is exactly what I expect to happen. Only not in the way Elena envisioned...
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Post by laz »

great start
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II: Lanyards


It took me a minute to shake off the pillowcase on my head. As I had suspected, I had been tied up with the bandanas that had been in my dresser. The purple one was around my wrists, the red one was around my elbows, the green one was around my ankles, the yellow one was around my knees, and I had been gagged with the blue one. Fortunately for me, they were just bandanas, and they weren’t knotted incredibly tight. It took a minute or two to get my wrists and elbows free of my bonds, and I untied my legs. My gag was last to come off, which I threw in the hamper, given the saliva stains now on it.

I quickly checked around and found that nothing was stolen, so the motive for my ambush was clearly just to tie me up and leave me like that. I knew that wherever my assailants went, they were long gone by now. I couldn’t identify them, given that I was blindfolded. I could go into the cabins and see who was missing a pillowcase, but I didn’t want to go through that search effort at this time of night, especially during the first night of camp. So, I made sure my door was locked before I went to sleep.

oOo

It was a bright new morning. I decided to put last night’s incident behind me and face a new day without taking any nonsense from those boys. I changed into my outfit for the day: blue denim shorts, a red camp t-shirt, and a red bandana worn as a kerchief in my hair.

We all ate breakfast at the mess hall. As everyone chowed down on bacon, I sat down with a few other counselors. I sat next to Jason. Figuring he seemed trustworthy, I told him what had happened the night before.

“It wasn’t any of my campers,” he told me. “They were all accounted for when it was lights out. Maybe it was Ken’s campers. I doubt he runs a tight ship with them.”

We looked across to where Ken sat with a group of student campers. He was slowly nibbling on a piece of bacon. It was hard to read what he was thinking, as he was wearing sunglasses, despite us being indoors.

At the end of breakfast, the counselors were given our assignments for the day and were sent on our way. My assignment was to supervise a classic camp activity: lanyard-making, where you braided cords to make bracelets. I wasn’t thrilled to be surrounded by material that could easily be used to tie someone up after last night’s incident, but it’s what I was assigned to do.

As I was walking with a group of campers, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and recognized the freckled kid from the pinecone incident after yesterday’s bonfire. “Hi, Elena,” he greeted me. “I can’t wait to do lanyard-making with you.”

I immediately recognized that voice as the voice who taunted me before leaving me bound and gagged last night. He clearly wanted payback on me for embarrassing him with the pinecone last night; hence him ambushing me last night with whoever he had helped him. Whoever helped him probably didn’t need much coaxing on his end (“Hey, fellow teenagers, let’s tie up the only girl at camp”). I very much didn’t want to be in the same room with him at the same time a bunch of tying materials was easily accessible.

As we were walking to the activity center, we passed by the camp’s lake. It was just my luck that the freckled kid was walking near the lake’s edge. Discreetly, I walked up next to him. When I thought no one was looking, I ‘accidentally’ bumped into his side, sending him falling into the water.

The campers’ heads turned to face the pond as soon as they heard the splash. The freckled kid emerged from the water, gasping for air. “What the hell?!” he cursed as he climbed out of the lake. “She pushed me in!”

“No, I didn’t!” I responded, playing as innocent as possible. “It was an accident, I swear.”

Ben ran over to the freckled kid. Having no witnesses to back his claims up, he gave me the benefit of the doubt. “Here, let’s get you dried off. James, take him back to the cabin so he can get a dry set of clothes.”

James sighed (bothered by the fact that he had to do more walking) as he escorted the dripping freckled kid away. I hid a smirk as I continued walking toward the activity center.

oOo

My job at the lanyard station was to help the campers make the lanyards, helping them braid the cords and tie the knots if they needed help. I have to admit, I was pretty good at making lanyards; I had been to a summer camp a few years back, so my junk drawer in the dresser in my room was filled with at least a half-dozen.

To my surprise, the boys didn’t need a lot of help. They seemed to know their way around knots (something I should’ve guessed from last night). Still, I had to watch them. So, to kill some time, I started making lanyards. Before I knew it, I had made three while some of the campers had barely gotten halfway through your first one.

Some of the campers stopped to watch me as I worked. “Admiring my skills?” I asked a group of them.
“Yeah. Bet you can do it without looking,” one of them challenged me.

I closed my eyes, intending to work with them closed only for a minute. I felt one of them cover my eyes. “What are you doing?!” I exclaimed in surprise.
“Making sure you aren’t cheating,” another camper replied.

I shook his hands off my face. I wasn’t sure how many of them washed their hands after breakfast. In fact, I knew this kid didn’t wash his hands, as they smelled of grease. “Here, we can use this,” I said as I untied my kerchief.

Before I could blindfold myself, one of the boys took the bandana out of my head. They folded it into a triangle and tied it over my face, with the point of the triangle going down to my chin. “Alright. Let’s see you go,” the first camper said. “Me versus you. The first who makes a full bracelet wins. Go!”

As I quickly tried to braid the cord, the Admiral Ackbar quote was ringing in my ears; “It’s a trap!”. I couldn’t see what was going on around me, and I was surrounded by teen boys with cord. The bandana over my face might as well have had TIE ME UP written in Sharpie on it. But the competitive part of my nature was clouding out my common sense. I never could back down from a challenge.

Two minutes into the contest, I could feel that I was almost close to winning. That’s when the trap was sprung (I like to think they would’ve done it sooner, but they were genuinely impressed by my skills). My wrists were suddenly pulled behind my back (forcing me to drop my nearly-completed bracelet) and were tied with what felt like a braided lanyard. “Hey!” I exclaimed as I felt my ankles get pushed together, then my ankles were tied to the metal leg of the table.

I heard the boys snicker at my plight. “Let me go, you brats!” I shouted. “I swear, you have five seconds to let me go before I use these cords to string you all up from the roof!”

No one acted to help me, or at least judging from what I (couldn’t) see. I just heard a few quiet snickers. I tried to untie myself, but the cord (even when braided together) was thinner than the bandanas, meaning smaller knots could be tied, which were harder to untie.

After a couple of minutes of me switching between begging, demanding, and trying to get free myself, I heard Ben’s voice. “Elena? What happened? Where are all the campers?” he asked as he untied my wrists.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I pulled off my blindfold, only to see that Ben and I were the only ones in the room. The campers must’ve slipped away as I was blindly struggling; they all must’ve attended a ninja camp before coming to this one since I didn’t hear them leave.

I sighed in embarrassment, having the head counselor walk in on me while I was in such a silly position, mostly by my own design. “I’m beginning to see why you’ve only had one female counselor before me."
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Post by laz »

great chapter again
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Post by Beaumains »

Another nice chapter. It is funny to see that Elena still does not understand it is a losing battle. I doubt this us they to (re)gain authority over the fiercest opponent imaginable: teenage boys.

Also, I had not expected such crafts at a boy's camp while it was so clear to any reader here she was brought right back to the bondage materials. Also, that bet was such an obvious trap, but still a great idea.
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III: Treating wounds


For the rest of the day, Ben assigned me to teach campers to set up tents. Fortunately, my group of campers was far more interested in how to set them up over trying any mischief with me. I was pleasantly surprised they didn’t try to wrap me up in the unfolded tent or tie me to the ground with the ropes and stakes a la Gulliver's Travels. The next day, I was assigned to monitor the campers as they swam in the lake. One camper tried to sneak up behind me and pin my arms to my side with a pool noodle, but I was able to slip free and hip-check him off the dock and into the water.

The day after, I was assigned to teach the campers about first aid and how to treat and dress wounds. Ben told me about this the night before and handed me a guidebook, telling me to study up. I saw that a lot of the treatments involved long bandages. “Great,” I muttered and rolled my eyes. “They might wrap me up like a mummy.” I also noticed that one treatment involved restraining a patient with belts down to a cot so they didn’t accidentally slip off. “Cool, so they might mummify me, then tie me down.”

The next morning, I wore a white camp T-shirt and black denim shorts. I decided to forego the bandana accessory, figuring the campers already would have enough binding materials in the bandages and cot. After breakfast, I walked my group to the nurse’s station, where the activity would occur. I noticed that most of my group consisted of the boys from tent-setting from two days back. This gave me some hope; maybe they’d want to just learn about wound treatment.

And that’s how it was for the majority of the activity. Following my instructions from the guide, the campers wrapped each other’s arms, legs, and foreheads in bandages. They also took turns strapping each other to the cot. The cot had belts at the forehead, shoulders, waist, and knees, with the campers’ arms strapped to their sides and held down by the waist belt. When the strapping was done, I noticed that the campers could slide their arms and hands to the waist belt and undo the buckle, letting them free themselves. That’s when, at the end of the activity, when they asked if they could try strapping me down to the cot, I (still somewhat hesitantly) agreed, figuring I could quickly free myself if need be, especially after I saw them do it themselves.

The cot was placed on the floor, and I laid down on top of it. They tightened the straps around my forehead, shoulders, waist, and knees. I tried to move around in the cot, only to find myself adequately strapped down. “Alright, you’ve properly immobilized me. Good job,” I said, with my tone of voice trying to prompt me to undo the straps.

One camper, a pale boy with short brown hair, picked up the guidebook and flipped through the pages. The campers gathered around him and quietly pointed to a few pages while murmuring to each other. “Uh, guys? Still down here,” I nervously laughed.

Realizing they wouldn’t willingly free me from the cot, I worked my arms and hands towards the buckle to free myself. Before I could get to the buckle, two campers suddenly ran to each of my sides, each with a roll of bandages and a gauze pad. They pulled my hands down to my sides, pressed the gauze pads on the centers of my palms, and wrapped each of my hands in bandages. “What are you doing?!” I exclaimed.

“We’re trying out some of the advanced techniques in the book,” one of the campers cheekily answered. “We’re treating cut wounds on your hands.”
“We’re immobilizing them so no blood accidentally flows out or the gauze doesn’t fall off,” another camper answered.

When they were done, I found they had reduced my hands and fingers to useless bandaged nubs that had no shot of unbuckling anything. It was then that I realized I had fallen for another trap. “You’re gonna need these ‘advanced techniques’ done to you when I-MMM?!”

One of the campers stuffed a piece of gauze onto my tongue. Two campers clamped my jaw closed as another wrapped a bandage under my chin and drew the ends up, knotting them on the top of my head. With that, my jaw was forced close, meaning I couldn’t open my mouth.

“There. We treated a jaw injury and a burn on the tongue,” the first boy gloated triumphantly.

With that, several of them picked up the cot and carried me outside. They walked toward the center of the camp, displaying me as if I were a parade float. As my eyes darted, I saw campers laughing at my plight. The only counselor I could see was James. I stared right into his sunglasses and made an angered noise in his direction, trying to get him to free me. Instead, he just watched me pass him without moving a muscle.

Fortunately for me, Ben came upon me and the campers a few moments later. “Hey! What are you doing with her?!” he shouted. They gently placed me on the ground (at least they didn’t drop me, which would’ve seriously messed up my back), and they and the crowd of onlookers scattered in different directions. Ben decided not to go after them and instead knelt at my side, untying the bandage under my chin, letting me spit out the gauze. “Those little brats did this to me after I showed them how to treat wounds and immobilize someone on a cot!”

Ben looked down at my restraints. “Well, they sure have the ‘immobilize’ part down,” he weakly joked.

I could only glare at him and let out a frustrated sigh.
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Post by Beaumains »

Another nice addition. Elena does not seem to learn her lesson and her colleages are nto very eager to help her out, maybe because the boys enjoy her so much. Still, I am not entirely sure whether they think she is weak and try to bully her or exactly love that she is there.
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Post by laz »

childhood tie up pranks make me mile, well done
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Nice story. Thank you for posting.
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IV: Laundry day


Being a camp counselor wasn’t just running activities with high chances of leaving you bound and gagged. One of my tasks involved laundry. As an outdoor camp featuring dirt, water activities, and unsanctioned roughhousing, laundry tended to pile up quickly. All the counselors had to take turns loading the laundry into the washing machine and dryer, folding them, and bagging them back up to deliver to the cabins.

It was my turn to undertake that duty at the end of the first week. I was partnered with two counselors for this job: Nelson and Josh. Both were skinny young men (both were 17, making them some of the most youthful counselors at camp) who oddly resembled each other, despite not being related. The only difference I could discern from them was, physical or social characteristic-wise, was Nelson was a redhead and Josh had dirty-blond hair. Case in point, they were both wearing the same navy blue camp shirt, black gym shorts, and black bandanas tied over their necks. Basically, they looked like Beavis and Butthead tried to go cowboy but quit after putting in 5% effort. Meanwhile, I was wearing a black camp shirt, green camo shorts, and a green bandana tied as a kerchief in my hair.

I worked diligently, tossing armfuls of clothing into the washing machine. I did my best to turn my nose away from the clothing as I tossed them in, as the summer heat magnified the smell. Meanwhile, Nelson and Josh were joking around, trying (and mostly failing) to basketball-shoot one pair of shorts into the machine at a time.

I rolled my eyes at them. “Guys, you aren’t Michael Jordan,” I chided. “Can you just work so we can finish here as quickly as possible?”

“C’mon, Elena,” Josh scoffed, “why not have some fun with this?”

Josh balled up a t-shirt and tossed it at me. I swatted that two-point shot down to the floor. “I think we should save the fun for outside the laundry station.”

“What’s your problem?” Nelson asked. “Can’t stand the smell of all these clothes?”
“That’s one big stinky reason.”
“You get used to it.”

“Maybe you guys can,” I replied as I turned back to my work, “but I don’t think there’s no way I’ll ever be able to deal with this smelly crap.”

After some moments of quiet, Nelson said he had to use the bathroom, and he’d be right back. When he left, Josh worked quietly…too quietly. I was beginning to feel a suspicious aura emulate from Josh; why was he working so seriously now? And where did Nelson go? Like, where did he really go?

“Um, excuse me,” I said after a minute as I slowly walked toward the door. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, too.”

As soon as I opened the door, I literally bumped into Nelson, who was carrying a few bundles of rope. I had no idea where he got that, but I wasn’t planning on sticking around and asking. I tried to push past him and run out the door, but Nelson pushed me to the floor. Josh came from behind, turned me so I was on my stomach, stuffed his bandana in my mouth (thank GOD he didn’t use one of the many smelly socks around him. I genuinely would have puked), and clamped his hand over his mouth to keep it in while Nelson forced my hands behind my back and tied my wrists together. Nelson handed Josh his bandana to tie between my teeth to hold the stuffing in, then he grabbed another piece of rope to tie my kicking ankles. Nelson sat me up and tied more rope around my waist while Josh tied my knees.

“GMM MMF MMM!” I screamed into my gag as Josh and Nelson got off me for a second as they emptied one of the white laundry bags of its clothing. They picked up my squirming body and placed it inside the bag so only my head and neck were sticking out, then pulled the drawstring on it to tighten it around it.

Nelson and Josh high-fived as they looked at me, squirming and shouting into my gag. The bag constricted my movement, meaning I couldn’t untie the ropes. I thought they were done, and they’d just leave me bagged and gagged on the floor for someone to find and hopefully free me. But they didn’t stop.

They picked up a full laundry bag and held it over my head. “Let’s help you get used to smelly clothing,” Nelson said as he and Josh proceeded to dump the clothing in the bag over my prone body. I let out a muffled scream as I was suddenly buried under a pile of stinky clothing. As I popped my head out of the pile of dirty clothing (with a white sock partially draped over my kerchief), I saw Josh and Nelson fist-bump as they left the room.

There I lay on the floor, buried under sweaty shirts, perspire-soaked pants, and rancid bandanas. Thanks to the bag, I couldn’t even squirm out from under the pile, much less untie myself. Fortunately, Yoshi came into the laundry center to get a stain out of his shirt a few minutes later, came across me, and got me loose. But this experience taught me that the campers aren’t the only ones I should be wary of at this camp…
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Post by Beaumains »

What a nice addition. It seems that every man and boy wants Elena to be tied and gagged and slightly embarrassed. But Elena does seem a little annoyed, but she is not trying to leave or even complains. Nor does she have other motives to continue, like needing the money or contractual obligations. Somehow, I suspect that she is secretly enjoying herself, especially when she keeps asking for problems. Nicely done
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Post by slackywacky »

That was fun. I have a pile of laundry waiting for her...
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