Dare Me (new 7/29)
-
- Posts: 466
- Joined: Wed Sep 08, 2021 10:10 pm
- Has thanked: 123 times
- Been thanked: 2027 times
- Contact:
-
- Posts: 581
- Joined: Thu May 07, 2020 8:41 pm
- Has thanked: 1854 times
- Been thanked: 726 times
- Contact:
- perseus
- Posts: 329
- Joined: Fri Nov 04, 2022 2:33 am
- Has thanked: 495 times
- Been thanked: 541 times
- Contact:
-
- Posts: 2
- Joined: Sat Sep 09, 2023 11:06 pm
- Been thanked: 3 times
- Contact:
Re: Dare Me (new 8/31)
Made this account for the sole purpose of telling you we need an update. This story is amazing! I've been following it the last couple months and it is by far the best ENF story I've ever read!
-
- Posts: 466
- Joined: Wed Sep 08, 2021 10:10 pm
- Has thanked: 123 times
- Been thanked: 2027 times
- Contact:
Re: Dare Me (new 8/31)
Wow, that's very kind! Extended-length part 1 coming up.nudeoutsider wrote: ↑Sat Sep 09, 2023 11:08 pm Made this account for the sole purpose of telling you we need an update. This story is amazing! I've been following it the last couple months and it is by far the best ENF story I've ever read!
-
- Posts: 466
- Joined: Wed Sep 08, 2021 10:10 pm
- Has thanked: 123 times
- Been thanked: 2027 times
- Contact:
Dare Me - Chapter 16 - Wait, What Happened at Camp? (Part 1)
Dare Me - Chapter 16 - Wait, What Happened at Camp? (Part 1)
As soon as she stepped on that bus, I sped off through the rain with erotic visions of Miss Easterling dancing in my head. I went straight home and headed up to my room, grabbing Riviera Dave's tub of lotion along the way.
I had found it earlier when I was digging around in Lucy's duffel bag. I bet she had packed it without even thinking. Her body was likely subconsciously encouraging her to consider more risky behaviors. What could be riskier than attempting a chemically assisted masturbation session at camp?
She had even transferred some of the lotion into a smaller bottle which I found packed in her toiletries bag. While I didn't let her take the big jar, I had left the bottle in her purse. I figured what's the harm? Maybe it would bring her a little comfort to know she had it with her just in case. I didn't expect her to actually find occasion to use it now that she had a dare to keep her chemical pathways engaged. Boy did I end up being wrong about that prediction!
You may be wondering how I even know the story of what happened to Lucy while she was away at junior cheer camp. After all, I wasn't there to witness it. Well, I have my ways! When she got back, I incentivized her to tell me everything. How did I incentivize her? Easy! I withheld something she very badly wanted from her until she had recounted every last detail starting from the beginning.
I will try to fill in the gaps in her story as best I can without undue embellishing. Simply put, this magnificent story doesn't need to be more compelling. You'll understand once you hear it. Everything I'm about to tell you either came directly from her or I extrapolated based on my own knowledge and her described interactions with the other girls. I may not have all the dialog or timing of every event as precisely as if I had been there, but just know, I am not making this story up; neither do I have any evidence that Lucy exaggerated it. I swear, all evidence I have witnessed points to it happening exactly as I am about to describe it to you. Just keep that in mind if you think this is too outrageous to have really happened. Anyway, back to the story.
With her eyes staring intently at the floor, Lucy climbed the bus steps leading to the aisle. To hear her tell it, as soon as the twenty-three other cheerleaders saw her standing there naked and dripping, the whole bus went completely silent. I'm not sure it was as dramatic as all that, though. It was probably just a combination of no longer being out in the rain and her just imagining the worst.
Not wanting to stand and display her body any longer than necessary, she quickly slid into an open seat near the front. Lucky for her, there were more than enough seats to accommodate everyone, and she didn't have to share with another girl.
Coach Easterling had taken the entire front row. With her complete roster of twenty-four girls now on board, she tapped the bus driver, a decrepit man who absolutely should not have been driving in the rain at night, on his shoulder to wake him up.
Lucy could hear the whispers as news spread that a naked girl had supposedly just boarded the bus. A few other campers even left their seats, walking down the aisle to see for themselves if the new girl really was naked. But Coach Easterling, noticing the small commotion, reminded everyone they had to stay seated while the bus was in motion.
Lucy kept her head emphatically down, only lifting it to occasionally peek out the window. As they traveled through town and headed away from everything she knew, her anxiety gradually grew. She didn't know a single one of her teammates yet and was traveling on a bus without a stitch of clothing to some place where she wouldn't recognize anything or anyone other than her coach whom she had only met briefly at tryouts. It soon became too painful to think about, so she stopped looking out the window and just stared at the seat in front of her and tried to get her breathing back under control.
She actually tried to blame me for ruining her chance at making a good first impression with her team. By making her attend camp naked, I was ensuring that was all anyone would be talking about when they mentioned her. But I was quick to defend myself when I heard about that. I reminded her that none of it would have happened if she had been able to keep her mouth shut and not utter those two little words just as it was time to leave.
The storm front had cooled the air somewhat and school buses are notoriously bad at insulation. So, the wind whistled through every crack as they drove through the evening and into the night. She was glad that no one dared speak to her but couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing out on the camaraderie that her teammates were sharing behind her. She blamed me for that, too.
It was a lonely trip, and very cold. Curling her knees up into a naked ball and hugging her purse to her chest, she shivered the whole way to Westfield. To hear her tell it after the fact, the cold was the worst part of the bus ride there. It took longer than it should have because of the rain. Also, apparently the bus driver got lost a few times and had trouble finding the facility. But eventually, he delivered the team safely to the old Westfield armory.
When they arrived, Lucy waited as long as she could, dreading stepping off the bus in an unfamiliar city without anything to cover her bare body. Forcing her body to step off that bus might have been even more agonizing than stepping on it. The rain had stopped, and night had fallen. The other girls all seemed to know each other and were chatting excitedly. Her nudity only compounded the uncertain social environment she found herself in. Cloaked only in darkness, the naked girl couldn't bring herself to approach anyone else. So, she stood alone away from the huddled groups.
The ninth graders refused to even acknowledge Lucy, or the other new girls for that matter. While Coach Easterling went inside to assess the bedding situation, the twelve ninth-grade girls, led by the three captains, opened the back of the bus, and went about unloading their suitcases.
The eighth graders formed into a second group and got in line to go next. A few of these girls sneered at Lucy, but no one spoke a word to her. She felt like a social pariah. The older grades headed inside, leaving the three seventh graders to fend for themselves.
Finally, the two remaining girls climbed into the back of the bus and retrieved their suitcases. Lucy had nothing to carry, of course. She simply hugged her little purse and waited. One of them made brief eye contact with her before averting her eyes with a blush. Then, without a word, they all started walking toward the entrance.
I'm sure, even though she didn't realize it, the other two seventh graders were filled with just as much anxiety and self-doubt as Lucy in that moment. They were the youngest and least experienced and hadn't yet figured out their place in the team dynamic. If the cheer team was anything like the basketball team, I knew the older girls weren't about to do them any social favors, either.
They climbed the stone steps. When they reached the creaky, wooden door at the entrance to the aging building, Lucy heard the bus engine roar to life in the parking lot behind her. Standing naked on the threshold, she watched in dismay as her last connection to home drove off into the night. A visceral fear gripped her as she realized how perilous her situation really was. She was stranded in a strange town with no way home. She would have to find a way to survive the next three days without clothes.
A weaker girl would have crumbled when asked to endure near constant exposure for such a long period of time. But Lucy was stronger than most girls. Using a deep, determined breath to suppress her anxiety, she turned and stepped inside.
I'm adding my own knowledge of the old armory in Westfield to Lucy's descriptions. After learning from Coach Easterling where they would be holding camp, I went to the library and researched it. I have a curious mind and seem to have a talent for researching things. It's something that has served me well in life.
The complex consisted of two main buildings and a few smaller outbuildings. The girls first entered the oldest and biggest one. Built during the Great Depression out of locally sourced stone and hand-mixed concrete by mostly unskilled hands, the rectangular longhouse brooded in the black & white pictures I saw. Originally the home of an artillery battery, the building's oversized garage bays at one end used to house the giant trucks needed to haul such equipment.
During World War II, the armory was used as an Army recruiting and muster station. The building was expanded with an assembly hall which featured wooden floors, the only ones on site that weren’t cement. The second largest building, a large Quonset hut-style barrack, was also added at the top of the hill along with a rifle range.
A few minor renovations were attempted over the years following the war. But public interest in maintaining it waned. In the early 1980s, during the height of the cold war, it was decided that a new armory should be built to keep the Soviet threat in check.
Once the new armory was completed at the edge of town, this downtown complex, now known as the "Old Armory", was sold to a private developer who intended to transform it into a rentable facility for corporate retreats and other events.
Sadly, the developer went bankrupt leaving behind nothing but empty promises and a hefty tax lien. Ownership eventually wound up in the hands of a local African American "entrepreneur" named Ralph Wilson. Ralph, or "Rooster" as he likes to be called, revived the conference destination idea, and began advertising the old armory as an economical option for small and medium groups.
Nearby, available, affordable...it seemed like the perfect place for a junior high school cheer team to book for a camp weekend. Sure, things started to go wrong almost immediately upon their arrival. But at least the price was great!
Lucy and the other stragglers caught up to Coach Easterling arguing with Rooster outside an office marked "Facilities Supervisor".
"What do you mean 'there aren't any bunks'?" she asked incredulously, waiving a flier in front of his face, "there is picture on your brochure of a bunkhouse a caption that says, 'comfortably accommodates parties up to one hundred'."
"Yes, ma'am," replied Rooster, "and I do apologize for that miscommunication. I do believe you must have mistakenly acquired an older copy of our brochure."
Coach Easterling huffed and dug around inside her suitcase. "I have our contract right here, Mr. Wilson, that-"
"Please do call me 'Rooster'," he insisted.
She began again. "...right here in our contract, Mr. Rooster, it says 'flexible sleeping quarters: freshly furnished'".
"I do apologize once again for that miscommunication, ma'am. I believe you have misread the contract which correctly states, 'flexible sleeping quarters: freshly furbished'. It's right this way, if you would like to see for yourself," he said before heading off without waiting to hear her reply. Seeing her associate disappear around the corner, she ran to catch up.
"As you can see, ma'am," explained Rooster, turning a corner to exit into a room about half as large as a basketball court, "it has very recently been waxed. Feel free to set up your sleeping bags and rearrange these quarters however you like."
The ancient-looking, hardwood floor had indeed been waxed to a shiny gleam. Coach Easterling had to begrudgingly admit that Rooster was providing them with freshly furbished sleeping quarters as agreed. Unfortunately, it wasn't furnished in the least. In fact, there wasn't a single bunk, nor any sign of bedding be found anywhere. There wasn't any furniture at all!
"Sleeping bags?!" she replied, her exclamation echoing around the empty room, "we didn't bring sleeping bags, Mr. Rooster, and the bus won't be back for three days. Surely you don't expect us to sleep directly on a wooden floor without bedding!"
Rooster took off his hat and scratched his bald head while he thought for a moment. Lucy said it looked like an old girl scout's cap, only it was brown, and she didn't recognize any of the badges or pins. I guessed from her description that it was some kind of veteran’s or VFW cap.
"Hmm...I do suppose I can offer you the use of our surplus infantry supplies - at a reduced cost, of course, because I do empathize with your unfortunate circumstances, ma'am," he finally said, "however, I cannot make a guarantee of their condition."
Rooster waited patiently while Coach Easterling peered in disbelief at her copy of the contract. She was usually such a studious reader, and it must have bothered her to have misread such an important detail. While he waited, he offered a cordial nod of greeting toward the cheerleaders. If he noticed the cute little naked blonde standing shyly in the back or was surprised by her utter lack of clothes, he showed no indication of it.
Eventually, Coach Easterling, left with little choice, agreed to see what Rooster could do to help their situation. She told the girls to leave their suitcases in the assembly hall and ordered them to come along. She didn’t have a good feeling about what she had seen so far and would prefer everyone to stay together just in case. Strength in numbers, I suppose.
"The leftover supplies are stowed in the barracks. Right this way," he smiled, leading her and the other girls down a long, cement corridor which ran down one side of the building. "I was a procurement specialist for part of my tour in 'nam," he chatted as they walked, "so don't you worry, ma'am. Ol' Rooster knows how to take care of a squad in need."
The corridor opened into a huge, cavernous garage area. Here, the pitted, cement floor was extremely un-furbished and the girls had to tread carefully to avoid decades-old grease stains. The outer walls and towering ceiling were covered in soot, and everything inside had been removed long ago, leaving behind a large hollowed out space like the carcass of a long-dead giant beetle. The space was dimly lit by solitary bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The bulbs looked like they might have been installed during the Great Depression.
Rooster brought them through a backdoor and out onto the drill yard. The team informally marched behind him across the flat, open ground and began climbing a well-worn dirt path which led up the gently-sloped hillside beyond. The path only continued about fifty yards, and it took maybe a minute to reach the top of the small hill. They all paused while Rooster held his giant, jingling keyring up in the moonlight and studied it.
Lucy had been trailing alone at the back of the group. She noticed a row of small wooden buildings a little ways off the main path with something written on the front. Curious, she came closer to read them and then wished she hadn't. They were actual outhouses! She scurried back to the group just in time for Rooster to find the correct key to the barracks. Like from a mummy's tomb, when he creaked open the door, a wall of heavy, stale air rolled out to meet them. Lucy said it smelled like a hundred attics.
Rooster ushered them inside and flipped a switch on the wall. The entire structure was one big half-cylinder long enough to fit at least two school buses end to end. The corrugated steel walls curved up on both sides to meet high above their head. A row of fluorescent lights ran down the middle. At least it was better illuminated than the garage had been.
The space was partitioned by metal shelves full of random stuff. The air was soon swarming with particles as people unavoidably disturbed the thick layer of dust covering everything. Rooster, apparently knowing how to locate what he was looking for, made his way past a bunch of metal desks and chairs that had been shoved to one side and headed deeper into the building.
He stopped near the middle of the building in front of several large supply cabinets with "AMMO" written in faded block letters on the front. Rust flaked off the hinges when he kicked the doors open. The first cabinet contained unassembled army cots - wooden sticks and canvas wrapped into bundles. The second was full of stacks and stacks of tightly rolled army blankets.
"All right, time to get organized. Ten-hut!" he yelled unexpectedly, and several of the girls squeaked with fright. Even Coach Easterling failed to catch on. But Tiffany Lennox, one of the captains, figured out what he was doing.
"My uncle was a drill sergeant," she said, "he means form up, ladies, and get in parade rest." Even Lucy, who had watched Nikki's instructional video a thousand times, knew what parade rest meant. In short order, the girls were all standing in a line at attention and awaiting orders. Lucy and the other seventh-graders had to form up last, at the end of the line.
"I like this one," Rooster said with a smile, referring to the way Tiffany had taken charge. Then he began methodically issuing each girl with one cot and one roll. Lucy was last in line. When he issued her the cot, he looked up and down her bare body and gave her a wink to let her know that the naked cheerleader in their squad hadn't escaped his notice.
While Rooster commenced locking down the barracks once again, Coach Easterling led the girls back to the main armory building to make camp in the assembly hall. Lucy fell even further behind coming down the hill with her pack. She kept having to stop and readjust because there was no good way to carry it that didn't pinch some part of her naked flesh. By the time she arrived, the other girls had already finished setting up their cots and were heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
It was a green canvas contraption that only sat a few inches off the ground. It sounded similar to the ones my family had slept in during our beach vacation. Better than sleeping on the floor! It took her some time to figure out how to put it together. Once it was assembled, she untied the tightly rolled army blanket and spread it out on top to finish making her "bed". Then she retrieved her toothbrush and toothpaste from her purse and headed to the bathroom.
There weren't separate men's and women's bathrooms, just one, big room marked "latrine". Since she had arrived late, the room was empty. Fine by her! Brushing her teeth alone at her choice of sinks, she had time to reflect on her time at camp so far. She concluded it wasn't going as badly as she imagined it would when she first stepped onto that bus wearing nothing. Sure, it was awkward and made her feel like an outsider being constantly naked while all the other girls were fully clothed. But her only experience with cheerleading to that point was Nikki's training video where the girls casually stripped naked in the locker room without a second thought. Everyone on the team was bound to see each other's nude body in due time. And besides, it's not like the other girls didn't already possess all the same anatomy as her.
As for Rooster, well, he had not been shy about looking at whatever she was flashing. But the way he had winked at her when he gave her the sleeping pack had been oddly flattering. And the bus driver was so old and out of it that he practically didn't count!
Rooster had a way about him, a calm demeanor that put a person at ease. Nothing rattled him, even a naked camper in his armory. It almost felt like he was part of the facility. He knew the lay of the land while everyone else could only depend on his expertise. When Coach Easterling had messed up the sleeping arrangements, he had almost too willingly offered his services to provide a solution and she had almost too quickly accepted his offer.
The team was literally indebted to him now. How long before something else went wrong? A more experienced coach probably would have been more careful about letting someone she hardly knew step in and take over critical aspects of camp, especially for her girls' sake. After all, when does letting a rooster free in a hen house ever work out well for anyone but the rooster?
Lucy looked around the latrine while she finished brushing her teeth. With only hard surfaces and utilitarian accommodations, it was nowhere near a fancy spa. But at least it wasn't an outhouse!
She intentionally avoided looking in the only mirror in the room. She couldn't bear to be so vividly reminded of her nude state. However, she was interested in the shower stalls standing along the far wall. Little more than wooden boxes with swinging doors on the front, the stalls were lined up under a horizontal water pipe with regularly spaced shower heads hanging straight down.
Her whole body felt dusty from their trip to the barracks, but she couldn't figure out how to take a shower in one of those boxes without getting her hair wet. And she didn't want to go to bed with wet hair. So, she settled for splashing water up from the sink onto her face and body which worked well enough to get her clean.
By the time she finished in the bathroom, Rooster had already declared "lights-out" and flipped the main breakers off. The usually dim corridor outside the latrine was now pitch black. She only made it back to the assembly hall by hugging the wall and following the sound of settling girls. Coming around the last corner, she scraped her arm on the rough-hewn stone threshold. It was just another reminder that, having been built for tough-as-nails soldiers, this was no place for a tender, naked girl to be wandering around blindly.
Her eyes had adjusted well enough to find her cot with help from the moonlight shining through the high windows of the assembly hall. The night air was quickly losing whatever warmth had built up during the day. Her body had been uncovered for several hours by then and, after being forced to drip dry, the course, wool army blanket looked incredibly inviting to the bare, shivering girl. But she still had a few things to do before bed.
Since she was already naked and had nothing to change into, her bedtime routine ended up being quick and simple. Sitting down, she carefully untied her tennis shoes. There was just enough clearance for her to tuck her shoes under the foot of the cot. She pulled the ribbon from her hair and draped it over the tops of her shoes to keep it off the floor.
Pulling a brush out of her purse, she sat on the edge of her cot, in nothing but her little white ankle socks, and thoroughly brushed out every inch of her hair just like Nikki would. It was a necessary chore if she didn't want to wake up with tangles, and even though she was naked and shivering, she didn't give herself permission to lay down until she had finished.
Afraid of getting too cold in the night, she decided to keep her socks on. Lifting her blanket, she slipped into bed with a contented sigh.
The evening's excitement had started to fade, and in the darkness, sleep was quickly catching up to all the girls. Even in the dark, she could identify the two main cliques. The ninth graders had staked out the preferred ground at the far end of the room nearest the small stage. It was the only landmark in the otherwise featureless auditorium. Even within their group, there was a hierarchy to the way their cots were arrayed with the three captains almost certainly situated in the most desirable, central spots.
The eighth graders had their own form of hierarchy. Their nine cots were arranged in the middle of the room in three neat rows of three.
She heard a girl sniffling in a cot nearby and knew it had to be one of the other seventh-graders. Lucy and the two other youngest girls had been forced to set up against the wall, far away from the two other groups. They had quickly learned the value of keeping out of the way of the older girls and avoiding their wrath. No one had yet said a word to Lucy, but after hearing some of the mean comments being directed at the other seventh-graders, she had just about decided she preferred the silent treatment.
It actually brought her comfort to know she wasn't the only girl struggling to fit in. And there's no way the sniffling girl had it as bad as Lucy. At least she was attending camp in clothes! Lucy wrapped the blanket tightly around her naked body and closed her eyes. The wool felt rough against her tender, bare skin, but she was still grateful for it. In fact, she didn't even shiver in the cot that night. That's because a familiar sensation, an ember deep in her loins had begun to glow. She made her hands behave and not travel down to investigate the tingling heat radiating from between her legs. She was happy enough that first night merely to accept its comforting warmth.
I was relieved to hear that, for the first time in days, my sister didn't cry herself to sleep that night. Being a naked cheerleader would surely force her to face many challenges once morning came, but now that she had her dare and her chemical pathways were flowing once again, at least she could finally sleep.
As soon as she stepped on that bus, I sped off through the rain with erotic visions of Miss Easterling dancing in my head. I went straight home and headed up to my room, grabbing Riviera Dave's tub of lotion along the way.
I had found it earlier when I was digging around in Lucy's duffel bag. I bet she had packed it without even thinking. Her body was likely subconsciously encouraging her to consider more risky behaviors. What could be riskier than attempting a chemically assisted masturbation session at camp?
She had even transferred some of the lotion into a smaller bottle which I found packed in her toiletries bag. While I didn't let her take the big jar, I had left the bottle in her purse. I figured what's the harm? Maybe it would bring her a little comfort to know she had it with her just in case. I didn't expect her to actually find occasion to use it now that she had a dare to keep her chemical pathways engaged. Boy did I end up being wrong about that prediction!
You may be wondering how I even know the story of what happened to Lucy while she was away at junior cheer camp. After all, I wasn't there to witness it. Well, I have my ways! When she got back, I incentivized her to tell me everything. How did I incentivize her? Easy! I withheld something she very badly wanted from her until she had recounted every last detail starting from the beginning.
I will try to fill in the gaps in her story as best I can without undue embellishing. Simply put, this magnificent story doesn't need to be more compelling. You'll understand once you hear it. Everything I'm about to tell you either came directly from her or I extrapolated based on my own knowledge and her described interactions with the other girls. I may not have all the dialog or timing of every event as precisely as if I had been there, but just know, I am not making this story up; neither do I have any evidence that Lucy exaggerated it. I swear, all evidence I have witnessed points to it happening exactly as I am about to describe it to you. Just keep that in mind if you think this is too outrageous to have really happened. Anyway, back to the story.
With her eyes staring intently at the floor, Lucy climbed the bus steps leading to the aisle. To hear her tell it, as soon as the twenty-three other cheerleaders saw her standing there naked and dripping, the whole bus went completely silent. I'm not sure it was as dramatic as all that, though. It was probably just a combination of no longer being out in the rain and her just imagining the worst.
Not wanting to stand and display her body any longer than necessary, she quickly slid into an open seat near the front. Lucky for her, there were more than enough seats to accommodate everyone, and she didn't have to share with another girl.
Coach Easterling had taken the entire front row. With her complete roster of twenty-four girls now on board, she tapped the bus driver, a decrepit man who absolutely should not have been driving in the rain at night, on his shoulder to wake him up.
Lucy could hear the whispers as news spread that a naked girl had supposedly just boarded the bus. A few other campers even left their seats, walking down the aisle to see for themselves if the new girl really was naked. But Coach Easterling, noticing the small commotion, reminded everyone they had to stay seated while the bus was in motion.
Lucy kept her head emphatically down, only lifting it to occasionally peek out the window. As they traveled through town and headed away from everything she knew, her anxiety gradually grew. She didn't know a single one of her teammates yet and was traveling on a bus without a stitch of clothing to some place where she wouldn't recognize anything or anyone other than her coach whom she had only met briefly at tryouts. It soon became too painful to think about, so she stopped looking out the window and just stared at the seat in front of her and tried to get her breathing back under control.
She actually tried to blame me for ruining her chance at making a good first impression with her team. By making her attend camp naked, I was ensuring that was all anyone would be talking about when they mentioned her. But I was quick to defend myself when I heard about that. I reminded her that none of it would have happened if she had been able to keep her mouth shut and not utter those two little words just as it was time to leave.
The storm front had cooled the air somewhat and school buses are notoriously bad at insulation. So, the wind whistled through every crack as they drove through the evening and into the night. She was glad that no one dared speak to her but couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing out on the camaraderie that her teammates were sharing behind her. She blamed me for that, too.
It was a lonely trip, and very cold. Curling her knees up into a naked ball and hugging her purse to her chest, she shivered the whole way to Westfield. To hear her tell it after the fact, the cold was the worst part of the bus ride there. It took longer than it should have because of the rain. Also, apparently the bus driver got lost a few times and had trouble finding the facility. But eventually, he delivered the team safely to the old Westfield armory.
When they arrived, Lucy waited as long as she could, dreading stepping off the bus in an unfamiliar city without anything to cover her bare body. Forcing her body to step off that bus might have been even more agonizing than stepping on it. The rain had stopped, and night had fallen. The other girls all seemed to know each other and were chatting excitedly. Her nudity only compounded the uncertain social environment she found herself in. Cloaked only in darkness, the naked girl couldn't bring herself to approach anyone else. So, she stood alone away from the huddled groups.
The ninth graders refused to even acknowledge Lucy, or the other new girls for that matter. While Coach Easterling went inside to assess the bedding situation, the twelve ninth-grade girls, led by the three captains, opened the back of the bus, and went about unloading their suitcases.
The eighth graders formed into a second group and got in line to go next. A few of these girls sneered at Lucy, but no one spoke a word to her. She felt like a social pariah. The older grades headed inside, leaving the three seventh graders to fend for themselves.
Finally, the two remaining girls climbed into the back of the bus and retrieved their suitcases. Lucy had nothing to carry, of course. She simply hugged her little purse and waited. One of them made brief eye contact with her before averting her eyes with a blush. Then, without a word, they all started walking toward the entrance.
I'm sure, even though she didn't realize it, the other two seventh graders were filled with just as much anxiety and self-doubt as Lucy in that moment. They were the youngest and least experienced and hadn't yet figured out their place in the team dynamic. If the cheer team was anything like the basketball team, I knew the older girls weren't about to do them any social favors, either.
They climbed the stone steps. When they reached the creaky, wooden door at the entrance to the aging building, Lucy heard the bus engine roar to life in the parking lot behind her. Standing naked on the threshold, she watched in dismay as her last connection to home drove off into the night. A visceral fear gripped her as she realized how perilous her situation really was. She was stranded in a strange town with no way home. She would have to find a way to survive the next three days without clothes.
A weaker girl would have crumbled when asked to endure near constant exposure for such a long period of time. But Lucy was stronger than most girls. Using a deep, determined breath to suppress her anxiety, she turned and stepped inside.
I'm adding my own knowledge of the old armory in Westfield to Lucy's descriptions. After learning from Coach Easterling where they would be holding camp, I went to the library and researched it. I have a curious mind and seem to have a talent for researching things. It's something that has served me well in life.
The complex consisted of two main buildings and a few smaller outbuildings. The girls first entered the oldest and biggest one. Built during the Great Depression out of locally sourced stone and hand-mixed concrete by mostly unskilled hands, the rectangular longhouse brooded in the black & white pictures I saw. Originally the home of an artillery battery, the building's oversized garage bays at one end used to house the giant trucks needed to haul such equipment.
During World War II, the armory was used as an Army recruiting and muster station. The building was expanded with an assembly hall which featured wooden floors, the only ones on site that weren’t cement. The second largest building, a large Quonset hut-style barrack, was also added at the top of the hill along with a rifle range.
A few minor renovations were attempted over the years following the war. But public interest in maintaining it waned. In the early 1980s, during the height of the cold war, it was decided that a new armory should be built to keep the Soviet threat in check.
Once the new armory was completed at the edge of town, this downtown complex, now known as the "Old Armory", was sold to a private developer who intended to transform it into a rentable facility for corporate retreats and other events.
Sadly, the developer went bankrupt leaving behind nothing but empty promises and a hefty tax lien. Ownership eventually wound up in the hands of a local African American "entrepreneur" named Ralph Wilson. Ralph, or "Rooster" as he likes to be called, revived the conference destination idea, and began advertising the old armory as an economical option for small and medium groups.
Nearby, available, affordable...it seemed like the perfect place for a junior high school cheer team to book for a camp weekend. Sure, things started to go wrong almost immediately upon their arrival. But at least the price was great!
Lucy and the other stragglers caught up to Coach Easterling arguing with Rooster outside an office marked "Facilities Supervisor".
"What do you mean 'there aren't any bunks'?" she asked incredulously, waiving a flier in front of his face, "there is picture on your brochure of a bunkhouse a caption that says, 'comfortably accommodates parties up to one hundred'."
"Yes, ma'am," replied Rooster, "and I do apologize for that miscommunication. I do believe you must have mistakenly acquired an older copy of our brochure."
Coach Easterling huffed and dug around inside her suitcase. "I have our contract right here, Mr. Wilson, that-"
"Please do call me 'Rooster'," he insisted.
She began again. "...right here in our contract, Mr. Rooster, it says 'flexible sleeping quarters: freshly furnished'".
"I do apologize once again for that miscommunication, ma'am. I believe you have misread the contract which correctly states, 'flexible sleeping quarters: freshly furbished'. It's right this way, if you would like to see for yourself," he said before heading off without waiting to hear her reply. Seeing her associate disappear around the corner, she ran to catch up.
"As you can see, ma'am," explained Rooster, turning a corner to exit into a room about half as large as a basketball court, "it has very recently been waxed. Feel free to set up your sleeping bags and rearrange these quarters however you like."
The ancient-looking, hardwood floor had indeed been waxed to a shiny gleam. Coach Easterling had to begrudgingly admit that Rooster was providing them with freshly furbished sleeping quarters as agreed. Unfortunately, it wasn't furnished in the least. In fact, there wasn't a single bunk, nor any sign of bedding be found anywhere. There wasn't any furniture at all!
"Sleeping bags?!" she replied, her exclamation echoing around the empty room, "we didn't bring sleeping bags, Mr. Rooster, and the bus won't be back for three days. Surely you don't expect us to sleep directly on a wooden floor without bedding!"
Rooster took off his hat and scratched his bald head while he thought for a moment. Lucy said it looked like an old girl scout's cap, only it was brown, and she didn't recognize any of the badges or pins. I guessed from her description that it was some kind of veteran’s or VFW cap.
"Hmm...I do suppose I can offer you the use of our surplus infantry supplies - at a reduced cost, of course, because I do empathize with your unfortunate circumstances, ma'am," he finally said, "however, I cannot make a guarantee of their condition."
Rooster waited patiently while Coach Easterling peered in disbelief at her copy of the contract. She was usually such a studious reader, and it must have bothered her to have misread such an important detail. While he waited, he offered a cordial nod of greeting toward the cheerleaders. If he noticed the cute little naked blonde standing shyly in the back or was surprised by her utter lack of clothes, he showed no indication of it.
Eventually, Coach Easterling, left with little choice, agreed to see what Rooster could do to help their situation. She told the girls to leave their suitcases in the assembly hall and ordered them to come along. She didn’t have a good feeling about what she had seen so far and would prefer everyone to stay together just in case. Strength in numbers, I suppose.
"The leftover supplies are stowed in the barracks. Right this way," he smiled, leading her and the other girls down a long, cement corridor which ran down one side of the building. "I was a procurement specialist for part of my tour in 'nam," he chatted as they walked, "so don't you worry, ma'am. Ol' Rooster knows how to take care of a squad in need."
The corridor opened into a huge, cavernous garage area. Here, the pitted, cement floor was extremely un-furbished and the girls had to tread carefully to avoid decades-old grease stains. The outer walls and towering ceiling were covered in soot, and everything inside had been removed long ago, leaving behind a large hollowed out space like the carcass of a long-dead giant beetle. The space was dimly lit by solitary bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The bulbs looked like they might have been installed during the Great Depression.
Rooster brought them through a backdoor and out onto the drill yard. The team informally marched behind him across the flat, open ground and began climbing a well-worn dirt path which led up the gently-sloped hillside beyond. The path only continued about fifty yards, and it took maybe a minute to reach the top of the small hill. They all paused while Rooster held his giant, jingling keyring up in the moonlight and studied it.
Lucy had been trailing alone at the back of the group. She noticed a row of small wooden buildings a little ways off the main path with something written on the front. Curious, she came closer to read them and then wished she hadn't. They were actual outhouses! She scurried back to the group just in time for Rooster to find the correct key to the barracks. Like from a mummy's tomb, when he creaked open the door, a wall of heavy, stale air rolled out to meet them. Lucy said it smelled like a hundred attics.
Rooster ushered them inside and flipped a switch on the wall. The entire structure was one big half-cylinder long enough to fit at least two school buses end to end. The corrugated steel walls curved up on both sides to meet high above their head. A row of fluorescent lights ran down the middle. At least it was better illuminated than the garage had been.
The space was partitioned by metal shelves full of random stuff. The air was soon swarming with particles as people unavoidably disturbed the thick layer of dust covering everything. Rooster, apparently knowing how to locate what he was looking for, made his way past a bunch of metal desks and chairs that had been shoved to one side and headed deeper into the building.
He stopped near the middle of the building in front of several large supply cabinets with "AMMO" written in faded block letters on the front. Rust flaked off the hinges when he kicked the doors open. The first cabinet contained unassembled army cots - wooden sticks and canvas wrapped into bundles. The second was full of stacks and stacks of tightly rolled army blankets.
"All right, time to get organized. Ten-hut!" he yelled unexpectedly, and several of the girls squeaked with fright. Even Coach Easterling failed to catch on. But Tiffany Lennox, one of the captains, figured out what he was doing.
"My uncle was a drill sergeant," she said, "he means form up, ladies, and get in parade rest." Even Lucy, who had watched Nikki's instructional video a thousand times, knew what parade rest meant. In short order, the girls were all standing in a line at attention and awaiting orders. Lucy and the other seventh-graders had to form up last, at the end of the line.
"I like this one," Rooster said with a smile, referring to the way Tiffany had taken charge. Then he began methodically issuing each girl with one cot and one roll. Lucy was last in line. When he issued her the cot, he looked up and down her bare body and gave her a wink to let her know that the naked cheerleader in their squad hadn't escaped his notice.
While Rooster commenced locking down the barracks once again, Coach Easterling led the girls back to the main armory building to make camp in the assembly hall. Lucy fell even further behind coming down the hill with her pack. She kept having to stop and readjust because there was no good way to carry it that didn't pinch some part of her naked flesh. By the time she arrived, the other girls had already finished setting up their cots and were heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
It was a green canvas contraption that only sat a few inches off the ground. It sounded similar to the ones my family had slept in during our beach vacation. Better than sleeping on the floor! It took her some time to figure out how to put it together. Once it was assembled, she untied the tightly rolled army blanket and spread it out on top to finish making her "bed". Then she retrieved her toothbrush and toothpaste from her purse and headed to the bathroom.
There weren't separate men's and women's bathrooms, just one, big room marked "latrine". Since she had arrived late, the room was empty. Fine by her! Brushing her teeth alone at her choice of sinks, she had time to reflect on her time at camp so far. She concluded it wasn't going as badly as she imagined it would when she first stepped onto that bus wearing nothing. Sure, it was awkward and made her feel like an outsider being constantly naked while all the other girls were fully clothed. But her only experience with cheerleading to that point was Nikki's training video where the girls casually stripped naked in the locker room without a second thought. Everyone on the team was bound to see each other's nude body in due time. And besides, it's not like the other girls didn't already possess all the same anatomy as her.
As for Rooster, well, he had not been shy about looking at whatever she was flashing. But the way he had winked at her when he gave her the sleeping pack had been oddly flattering. And the bus driver was so old and out of it that he practically didn't count!
Rooster had a way about him, a calm demeanor that put a person at ease. Nothing rattled him, even a naked camper in his armory. It almost felt like he was part of the facility. He knew the lay of the land while everyone else could only depend on his expertise. When Coach Easterling had messed up the sleeping arrangements, he had almost too willingly offered his services to provide a solution and she had almost too quickly accepted his offer.
The team was literally indebted to him now. How long before something else went wrong? A more experienced coach probably would have been more careful about letting someone she hardly knew step in and take over critical aspects of camp, especially for her girls' sake. After all, when does letting a rooster free in a hen house ever work out well for anyone but the rooster?
Lucy looked around the latrine while she finished brushing her teeth. With only hard surfaces and utilitarian accommodations, it was nowhere near a fancy spa. But at least it wasn't an outhouse!
She intentionally avoided looking in the only mirror in the room. She couldn't bear to be so vividly reminded of her nude state. However, she was interested in the shower stalls standing along the far wall. Little more than wooden boxes with swinging doors on the front, the stalls were lined up under a horizontal water pipe with regularly spaced shower heads hanging straight down.
Her whole body felt dusty from their trip to the barracks, but she couldn't figure out how to take a shower in one of those boxes without getting her hair wet. And she didn't want to go to bed with wet hair. So, she settled for splashing water up from the sink onto her face and body which worked well enough to get her clean.
By the time she finished in the bathroom, Rooster had already declared "lights-out" and flipped the main breakers off. The usually dim corridor outside the latrine was now pitch black. She only made it back to the assembly hall by hugging the wall and following the sound of settling girls. Coming around the last corner, she scraped her arm on the rough-hewn stone threshold. It was just another reminder that, having been built for tough-as-nails soldiers, this was no place for a tender, naked girl to be wandering around blindly.
Her eyes had adjusted well enough to find her cot with help from the moonlight shining through the high windows of the assembly hall. The night air was quickly losing whatever warmth had built up during the day. Her body had been uncovered for several hours by then and, after being forced to drip dry, the course, wool army blanket looked incredibly inviting to the bare, shivering girl. But she still had a few things to do before bed.
Since she was already naked and had nothing to change into, her bedtime routine ended up being quick and simple. Sitting down, she carefully untied her tennis shoes. There was just enough clearance for her to tuck her shoes under the foot of the cot. She pulled the ribbon from her hair and draped it over the tops of her shoes to keep it off the floor.
Pulling a brush out of her purse, she sat on the edge of her cot, in nothing but her little white ankle socks, and thoroughly brushed out every inch of her hair just like Nikki would. It was a necessary chore if she didn't want to wake up with tangles, and even though she was naked and shivering, she didn't give herself permission to lay down until she had finished.
Afraid of getting too cold in the night, she decided to keep her socks on. Lifting her blanket, she slipped into bed with a contented sigh.
The evening's excitement had started to fade, and in the darkness, sleep was quickly catching up to all the girls. Even in the dark, she could identify the two main cliques. The ninth graders had staked out the preferred ground at the far end of the room nearest the small stage. It was the only landmark in the otherwise featureless auditorium. Even within their group, there was a hierarchy to the way their cots were arrayed with the three captains almost certainly situated in the most desirable, central spots.
The eighth graders had their own form of hierarchy. Their nine cots were arranged in the middle of the room in three neat rows of three.
She heard a girl sniffling in a cot nearby and knew it had to be one of the other seventh-graders. Lucy and the two other youngest girls had been forced to set up against the wall, far away from the two other groups. They had quickly learned the value of keeping out of the way of the older girls and avoiding their wrath. No one had yet said a word to Lucy, but after hearing some of the mean comments being directed at the other seventh-graders, she had just about decided she preferred the silent treatment.
It actually brought her comfort to know she wasn't the only girl struggling to fit in. And there's no way the sniffling girl had it as bad as Lucy. At least she was attending camp in clothes! Lucy wrapped the blanket tightly around her naked body and closed her eyes. The wool felt rough against her tender, bare skin, but she was still grateful for it. In fact, she didn't even shiver in the cot that night. That's because a familiar sensation, an ember deep in her loins had begun to glow. She made her hands behave and not travel down to investigate the tingling heat radiating from between her legs. She was happy enough that first night merely to accept its comforting warmth.
I was relieved to hear that, for the first time in days, my sister didn't cry herself to sleep that night. Being a naked cheerleader would surely force her to face many challenges once morning came, but now that she had her dare and her chemical pathways were flowing once again, at least she could finally sleep.
Re: Dare Me (new 9/10)
I liked. Thank you. I'll need to muster up patience and wait for the next post. It isn't as if the author is being paid thousands of dollars. Thanks for writing and sharing the Dare Me series. I've had scores of hours of reading pleasure.
-
- Posts: 54
- Joined: Tue Jun 27, 2023 11:18 am
- Has thanked: 50 times
- Been thanked: 35 times
- Contact:
Re: Dare Me (new 9/10)
Thanks for the update! What a delightfully vulnerable position Lucy has found herself in - yet she continues to conduct herself with strength and grace.
I did note how little mention was given of Lucy receiving a good look over by Rooster. I guess it goes to show how she has developed, and how things which could have once felt life-ending are now just minor events. I also enjoyed the vivid descriptions of the cold and unfamiliar buildings; the wording really transported me and gave me that feeling of being isolated and vulnerable while off on camp and far away from the comfort and familiarity of home. Honestly, it feels like how I felt when I would go off camping with the Scouts as a child, though I was blissfully clothed at the time. I've always been a homebody.
Looking forward to more, and once again praying that the cheerleaders don't get *too* nasty!
I did note how little mention was given of Lucy receiving a good look over by Rooster. I guess it goes to show how she has developed, and how things which could have once felt life-ending are now just minor events. I also enjoyed the vivid descriptions of the cold and unfamiliar buildings; the wording really transported me and gave me that feeling of being isolated and vulnerable while off on camp and far away from the comfort and familiarity of home. Honestly, it feels like how I felt when I would go off camping with the Scouts as a child, though I was blissfully clothed at the time. I've always been a homebody.
Looking forward to more, and once again praying that the cheerleaders don't get *too* nasty!
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 24 guests