Pantsing and Stripping Forums

PART 1

Sunlight streamed through the towering pines, casting intricate patterns on the winding path that led deeper into Camp Athena. The air vibrated with melodic laughter, carried on a warm summer breeze like whispers between friends. Nestled within Whispering Pines National Park, this all-girls haven pulsed with the unmistakable beat of adventure.
A vibrant mosaic of activities hummed across the campsite. Young girls with sun-kissed cheeks and determined strides set off on a challenging trek, their competitive spirit burning bright in their eyes. Nearby, another group tackled the ropes course with laser-like focus, celebratory cheers erupting after each conquered obstacle. Under the sprawling canopy of ancient oaks, transformed into an open-air art studio, a sensory symphony unfolded. Brushes caressed canvases, leaving behind vibrant expressions of the natural beauty around them. On the lake, laughter mingled with the rhythmic slap of paddles, creating a scene of sun-dappled tranquility.

Camp Director Heather, a vibrant woman in her early thirties, oversaw the bustling scene. Her warm smile, framed by a cascade of sun-kissed brown hair, drew attention as she navigated the crowd, her clipboard filled with schedules and a determined glint in her eye. Her familiar hazel eyes, though softened by the joyful chaos, scanned the vibrant tapestry before her: a hundred teen and pre-teen girls, united by a shared journey of self-discovery, and six young counselors, each carrying the torch of feminist ideals, empowering these girls to shatter glass ceilings and claim their rightful place in the world, free from the invisible shackles of societal limitations. Camp Athena wasn't just about campfires and summer fun; it was the embodiment of Heather's unwavering vision - a haven built to equip these girls with the tools and confidence to forge their own paths and rewrite the narrative for themselves and future generations.

The relentless sun hammered down, mirroring the relentless sweat carving trails down her brow. Each salty sting echoed the frustration simmering within. Her khaki uniform, a stark reminder of the struggle for basic comforts, clung heavily to her body. The once-familiar gurgling symphony of the shower barracks had fallen silent, a recent leak muting their chorus. Now the only option for showerin were the rickety, open-air rinsing showers standing beside the placid spring-fed lake, a stark reminder of diminished comforts.

Privacy, once a given, now felt like a stolen treasure. The girls had fashioned makeshift screens from flimsy tarps, hanging them like cobwebs between skeletal branches. But this meager protection offered little solace. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent a shiver down her spine, they were naked, exposed, vulnerable.Beyond the physical act of cleansing, this daily ritual had become a test of vulnerability. It was a stripping bare, not just of sweat and dirt, but of the very essence of feminine dignity.

The fear was a fist clenching her heart. Here, exposed beneath the indifferent gaze of the sun, the ideals she championed on the camp - equality, autonomy, control over their own sexuality - felt like fragile glass, easily shattered by the wrong glance. The very thought of unseen men, their predatory eyes lurking in the shadows, sent a tremor through her. Was this how it was supposed to be? Stripped bare, reduced to seeking scraps of privacy, their naked bodies a potential target in this remote landscape? A choked sob escaped her lips, swallowed by the indifferent vastness of the sky. In that moment, she wasn't a symbol, a champion, or a soldier. She felt vulnerable and afraid.

Heather glanced at her watch. Already twenty-four hours past the estimated arrival time of the repairman. Frustration bubbled up, another layer on top of the fear and discomfort. This wasn't just about showering anymore; it was about a broken system, about feeling silenced and disregarded. A cynical voice in her head, one weathered by countless similar experiences, offered a bitter interpretation. Perhaps the repairman's delay wasn't just negligence or an overburdened schedule. Perhaps, it stemmed from a deeper societal prejudice, a subconscious dismissal of the needs and comfort of women, especially women in this context. Maybe the urgency of fixing their showers simply wasn't considered important enough compared to other, "masculine" needs. This thought sparked a cold anger within her, a familiar fire fueled by the constant fight for basic respect and equality.

The raucous cheers and boisterous laughter of the campers nearly eclipsed the steady tick of the clock, signaling the swift passage of Tuesday afternoon. The annual capture-the-flag competition sent campers hurtling across the field in a frenzied dash for victory, while the intense soccer match at the camp entrance had spectators gripping the fence and straining to see the ball. Suddenly, Camp Director Heather's whistle, raised mid-blow, froze in the air. Her gaze, usually scanning the chaos with focused efficiency, was now snagged on a lone figure striding purposefully towards them.He was undeniable. Even amidst the vibrant chaos of the camp, his presence commanded attention. Messy, medium-length hair, a shade of sun-kissed brown, fell just past his ears, framing a face etched with a hint of hidden intensity. A worn tool belt hung low on his hips, speaking volumes about his natural build. The soccer game screeched to a halt, as if pulled by an invisible hand. Heads swiveled in unison, captivated by his confident swagger.Even Heather, known for her steely composure, couldn't help but acknowledge the subtle shift in the atmosphere. A smile, warm and unexpected, played on her lips, momentarily melting the practiced mask of stern authority that usually adorned her face.

Among the captivated crowd, a spectrum of reactions played out amon the young campers. Amelia, usually invisible in the background, traced a line on the worn cover of her Jane Eyre, her gaze lost in the rustling leaves overhead. In her mind, she wasn't surrounded by the boisterous campers and their echoing laughter. Instead, she was lost in the windswept moors with Mr. Rochester, their passionate connection defying the societal constraints that confined them both. A soft smile curved her lips as she pictured his strong fingers gently tracing her hand, his dark eyes holding only her. Then, a collective gasp sliced through the camp's tranquility. Amelia blinked, the dreamlike scene fading as abruptly as it had appeared. Her heart pounded in her chest as she peered from behind the tree, her cheeks ablaze with a blush that stood out against her usually pale complexion. She clutched Jane Eyre tighter, its worn pages a comforting anchor in this suddenly upended world. His arrival felt like a scene ripped straight from the pages of her beloved novel, a forbidden hero entering her ordinary reality. Here, amidst the boisterous camp, she'd always felt unseen, preferring the company of literary characters to the complexities of real-life interactions. Now, with a racing pulse and a knot of nervous excitement in her stomach, she dared to imagine stepping out of her comfort zone and venturing towards this enigmatic stranger.

Across the clearing, Tiffany the undisputed queen of camp gossip and resident heartbreaker, held court among her closest companions. Their animated conversation, a symphony of giggles and playful jabs, swirled around them like a fragrant summer breeze. As allways, she was the conductor of the interactions, punctuating each point with a flick of her perfectly manicured nails against her glossed lips. Her laughter, bright and infectious, drew appreciative glances from across the campsite.Suddenly, a subtle shift in her demeanor sent a silent ripple through the group. Her eyes, usually sparkling with amusement, flickered momentarily across the clearing. Her most trusted friend, ever attentive, caught the flicker. The playful smile on the social butterfly's lips faltered for a brief, almost imperceptible, beat."Uh oh," her friend whispered, nudging the other companion with a knowing smile. "Looks like the huntress has spotted new prey." Following the direction of her now laser-focused gaze, they saw him - the newcomer standing by the entrance, a solitary figure shrouded in an air of mystery. His quiet confidence and the unknown he embodied sparked a familiar glint in Tiffany's eyes. A smirk played on her lips, a silent declaration of a game about to begin. For her, the arrival wasn't just a distraction; it was an opportunity, a conquest to be claimed. This new arrival, with his air of intrigue, only fueled her competitive fire. She wouldn't just win his attention; she'd unravel the secrets he held close, another trophy to add to her collection.

The stranger stopped before Camp Director Heather, his gaze sweeping the gathered crowd. Then, with a voice that resonated with quiet power, he spoke. "My name is Samael. I mend things."

Hello, and welcome, Sleepy Slobber.

You have some of the most descriptive and detailed sentences I've seen on a story here.
Many of the sentences are quite poetic. You know how to paint a picture with words.
Seems to me you are no stranger to literature.

Since feedback was asked for, I'll present my initial observations.

Maybe too much description. I had to read things over several times to figure out the event that is occurring, the breakdown in the
shower system.

In the 1st paragraph Camp Director Heather is introduced.
In the 2nd paragraph no names are given, so I assume everything going on is about Heather. There is some fear about being seen naked.
Hoping we get to find out why she is paranoid.

The last big paragraph introduces more characters. In addition to Director Heather, you give a quick description of Amelia and Tiffany.
Perhaps each new girl should have a separate paragraph for their introduction, showing what she is doing and what she looks like.

This reads like it might be an ENF story. Are the girls getting embarrassed here, or will it be Samael?

Please continue with the story. Camp Athena sounds like it could be lots of fun.

Hey TeenFan, thanks for the feedback!

I want to first clarify that this is an ENM story, though it does contain elements of ENF. My intention is to explore a "war of genres" theme, which IMO increases lewdness.
Heather's paranoia stems from her fear of ENF and the associated objectification, which directly clashes with her feminist beliefs. This is reflected in the quote : "'The very thought of unseen men, their predatory eyes lurking in the shadows, sent a tremor through her.'"
Regarding your writing suggestions, you're absolutely right. I rushed through this one and definitely should have revisited and think over it before publishing. Its kind of chaotic and not easy flowing as it stands, i also forgot to add stuff.
I may edit Part 1 in the coming days allowing myself time to further structure and refine it while i prepare Part 2.

Welcome, Sleepy Slobber. A great start to your story. I hope to read more soon.

PART 2


Samael's arrival sent a ripple of excitement through the camp. At Heather's command, the counselors swiftly ushered him away from the crowd of eager girls swarming around him. A month without male interaction had understandably fueled their enthusiasm, especially for someone as captivating as Samael. Undeterred, and perhaps even slightly amused by the attention from such a large group of beauties, Samael quickly assessed the situation. A hidden leak lurked somewhere between the camp's main water source and the shower barracks. Unearthing the hidden pipes with a shovel under the relentless summer sun would be a sweaty endeavor, the primary challenge of his new task.

He grabbed a shovel and began digging. Within an hour, his shirt clung damply to his skin. By then, small groups of girls were already giggling and watching him with admiration, among them Tiffany and her close friends who started playfully urging him to remove his shirt, claiming it would surely aid his efforts. He shrugged it off, figuring it was just a shirt, much like any guy would at the beach. He wasn't prepared for the cacophony of cheers and catcalls that erupted from the girls as soon as the fabric hit the ground, as if they just witnessed the most extraordinary event of their lives. Tiffany, emboldened by the commotion, dared him to remove his trousers, sparking further excitement among the other girls. Samael, however, remained unfazed. He'd encountered attention seekers like her before and had no intention of playing into her manipulative games.

As time wore on, the girls hatched a new plan. Bringing him glasses of water offered an excuse to get close, and using the smallest available ones allowed them to take turns offering the "refreshment" while enjoying a closer view, The more timid girls simply brought him water, while feasting their eyes. A few even dared to brush their fingers against his arms. Tiffany and her friends, however, were bolder, openly caressing his back and toned chest while lavishing him with compliments on his physique, she went the furthest, shamelessly copped a feel of his butt and subtly gladed her hand from his sculpted core to his lower regions, her fingers dancing towards a forbidden place. The girls watched, struck silent by her audacity, but before she could satisfy her lewd desires, Samael reacted. With a firm grip on her wrists, he gently but firmly pushed her away and with a voice tightened with frustration. ""-Look, I'm really busy. Please don't play childish games with me right now.""

A ripple of laughter broke out among the other girls, a sound both delighted and vindictive. They watched, barely containing their glee, as Queen Bee Tifanny's carefully crafted facade crumbled. But Tifanny, her toxic ego bruised and exposed, refused to yield. With a snarl that betrayed the storm brewing within, she marched towards the canteen barracks with every step radiating wounded pride. "How could he refuse me?" she stewed, her mind so fixated on the insult that she didn't notice little Amelia as she flung open the heavy oak doors knokin into to the floor little Amelia who was carrying a bucket full of dirty mop water, the fetid liquid soiling her. Soaked and humiliated, she stood there, as tears started to trace a path through the grime on her cheeks.

The day had devolved into a soggy mess, and Tifanny was done letting it dampen her spirits. Another scolding from the counselors? Please. They could keep their lectures. A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. She hatched a plan, one that could turn this disaster into a story to tell. Amelia whimpered beside her, tears running down her sweet face. Tifanny ignored the sniffles, grabbing Amelia's hand with a firm grip. No time for consolation, not today. With a purposeful stride, she dragged her towards the beach showers, leaving a trail of bewildered sobs in her wake. Amelia stumbled in protest, but Tifanny was unfazed.

The air hung heavy with the scent of pine needles as the two girls emerged at their destination, suddenly Tiffany's hand roughly tugged upwards the shirt of Amelia till it came off, revealing that the little girl wasnt wearing a bra, and she didnt really need it since there was nothing there that required to be hold. Amelia began to scream but a hand fastly clamped roughly over her mouth cutting it short.Her heart hammered against her ribs as she tried to cover the puffy little buds on her chest with her arms, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of Tiffany, with her face contorted in a mask of cold fury.

Amelia, confused and terrified, struggled against Tiffany's hold. But the bigger girl was stronger. "Stop it, please" Amelia sobbed. But her pleads fell on deaf ears, Tiffany was possessed by an relentless commitment to her desires. "You need to clean yourself up before any of the counselors see you. They'll get mad at me, and if that happens, I'll make you suffer for it. This is all your fault, anyway.Just pull yourself together, alright?"
Tears welled up in Amelia's eyes as Tiffany kept undressing her, she pleaded again while weakly struggled to hold her short pants as they were being tugged down "Stop it,please. There is a repair man around, he will see me naked. Don't do this to me" Aiming to soothe her into compliance, Tiffany told her that he was working on the other side of the camp as she yanked the white cotton panties down the weeping girl legs, whose scrawny arms could only offer a pitiful resistance. Amelia didn't even had pubes yet, for a moment Tiffany felt bad for her but then remembered that this was part of her plan to get back at someone who slighted her, and thats what really mattered after all. "Don't worry Darling, Im taking care of everything. I'll bring you a towel after I drop this stinky clothes on the washing machine. "

After calming her, she left, her pulse quickening. Her heart pounded like a drum solo in her chest. Laundry could wait. Now, she had only to lure Samael, the last act that would bring her plan to fruition. He was still close to the water feed where he began to dig surrounded by thirsty girls craving for a crumb of attention, his sculpted upper body gleaming in the sun. She tossed out the bait –a large puddle of water near the kayak storage. A leak! Samael's eyes lit up – no need to dig across the camp. He dashed off, relief rippling through him. He would like what he would find, but not in the way he expected, something far more… satisfying.

He rounded a bend in the path, and there, bathing on a flimsy stream of water and sunlight, was a sight that stopped his breath. She appeared to be a forest fairy, her porcelain skin shimmered with an ethereal glow. Her long hair, dark as river of obsidian, flowing down her body creating a magnificent contrast between with her pale skin and the light pink of her nipples and hairless pussy. Samael stood frozen, captivated by her delicate beauty. She seemed to radiate a warmth that ignated a crave on his soul. A smile, genuine and unbidden, spread across his face. It was a smile he hadn't felt in years, a smile that spoke of pure, unadulterated joy. In that moment, in the heart of the enchanted forest, amidst the whisper of leaves and the chirp of unseen birds, Samael found a happiness he thought lost forever. The sight of the pure creature, served as a reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world, a beauty that could bring a smile even to the most weary heart.

Unaware of his growing proximity, he continued forward until a branch snapped loudly beneath his foot. The sharp crack ripped through the silence, drawing the girl's startled gaze towards him. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, an eternity seemed to stretch between them. Neither knew how to react, paralyzed by the sudden encounter. Amelia's expression morphed from surprise to stark fear as she crouched, desperately trying to cover her precious girl sex and perky little buds, the prelude to a scream that promised to shatter the stillness. The earsplitting shriek that followed jolted Samael from his stupor. Instinctively, he took a step towards the girl, hoping to appease her escalating panic. But as he drew closer, her cries intensified, echoing through the silent forest like a banshee's wail. Realizing his presence only worsened the situation, Samael turned and retreated the way he came. As he hurried back, a flash of movement caught his eye. Tiffany stood in his path, a mischievous glint in her eyes that seemed to say, "You are fucked."

News of the incident spread like wildfire through the camp, as Panic surged through Samael. He redoubled his efforts at digging, his shovel scraping the earth with frantic urgency. Every clod of dirt removed felt like a desperate attempt to escape the impending storm as news of the incident reached Camp Director Heather. She promptly summoned the "Council of the Amazons", her cringe-worthy term for a general meeting in the main hall. Inside, the community gathered, their faces etched with concern, while others offered comfort to the still-distressed Amelia. It was the first time a male saw her fragile body naked and she was left feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if the stranger had taken a piece of her innocence. Heather's blood ran cold. This was the nightmare she'd dreaded, the one she wouldn't face passively this time. The sight of sweet and pure Amelia's tears ignited a spark within her. Channeling the spirit of the Amazonian warriors of legend, Heather declared in a voice that vibrated with newfound resolve, "Justice will be served! Amelia will get to see Samael taking a shower, naked. Whether or not he cooperates...

The main hall exploded with ecstatic whoops and frenzied cheers.

Jeepman89 wrote: ↑Mon Feb 26, 2024 3:30 pm Welcome, Sleepy Slobber. A great start to your story. I hope to read more soon.

I hope you enjoy my writing Jeepman89! I certainly enjoyed yours. I'd love to hear your perspective on this one.

A brilliant chapter, Sleepy Slobber and so well written and descriptive. I can't wait to see what happens to Samuel.

Nice way to toss a young naked girl into a ENM story.

I've got a naked twelve year old girl being used by an older teenage girl as a tool to embarrass a boy in my most current story.
I like a mix of both genders being used and or abused in a naked state in the same story.
Very beautiful way of describing a young female form. Neverdoubted, who writes stories about girls of this age would be impressed.

If I was to read a sequel story, I'd love to hear what happens when a lost Boy Scout wanders too close to Camp Athena.

PART 3

Dirt rained down on Samael's face as he dug, his breath echoing in the frantic silence. Every sound coming from the direction of the main hall was a hammer blow to his chest. Panic constricted his lungs. If that little girl embellished the truth, his reputation, his future, everything he'd built, would crumble. Images of his girlfriend, disgust etched on her face, flashed in his mind. This, he thought, was a disaster of epic proportions. A surge of indignation washed over Samael. He hadn't even touched the girl, this was all a colossal misunderstanding! They couldn't ruin his life over something so absurd. He was a good man, dammit, and only trying to finish the job. As he steeled himself with this righteous anger, four counselors materialized, their faces grim. One spoke, her voice laced with suspicion, "You're needed in the main hall immediately." Samael bristled. He felt like a criminal being escorted for questioning, but the potential consequences of defiance were too great. Swallowing his frustration, he followed them, a knot of worry tightening in his stomach.

As Samael entered the main hall, a hush fell over the giggling girls, replaced by a mix of fear and curiosity. Camp Director Heather's gaze was a glacial glare, pinning him in place. "You are a vile pig" her voice laced with ice, "we know what you did. Amelia doesn't lie." The accusation hung heavy in the air. She proclaimed that he was perving on Amelia while she was showering and with a blatant disregard for boundaries, he encroached on her to feast his eyes on the girl's tender body. The punishment would be an eye for an eye. Amelia would get to see Samael showering naked, tomorrow at late afternoon. The announcement ignited the hall in a fanfare of cheers and jeers. Until then, he was banished to the damp, tool shed. "Don't even think about running," Heather warned, her voice dripping with menace. "The consequences will be far worse than you can imagine." The world spun. How could they condemn him unheard? "Eye for an eye? Showering naked?" he scoffed, disbelief curdling in his gut. This had to be a cruel joke. But the girls' stifled giggles as they passed, their eyes sparkling with lustful anticipation, sent a shiver down his spine. As he trudged towards the tool shed with dread in his soul, he clung to the desperate hope that this was all just a twisted nightmare.

The next day dawned, offering no relief. As Samael resumed digging, the girls reappeared, their catcalls and taunts echoing from the day before. This time, the entire camp seemed to be watching, turning his labor into a cruel spectacle. The oppressive heat intensified his misery, forcing him to shed his shirt, much to the delight of the jeering crowd. The girls' "refreshment" plan from yesterday was brought up again, a supposed act of kindness, offering water as a guise to get closer, grew bolder, the girls caresses quickly intensified into molestation as they complimented his body followed by veiled threats of what awaited him later. Denial clung to him like a life raft. Surely, the camp director, an adult woman, wouldn't condone this barbarity.

As dinner time approached, his hope dwindled. The girls, instead of leaving, set up a picnic directly in his view, a blatant act of torment. The aroma of food was a cruel taunt, twisting his stomach into knots. He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. "May I please have a bit of food?" The only response was a chorus of mocking laughter, echoing like cruel music. Offers of bargains, whispered in desperation, dissolved into thin air. The girls, their faces twisted with malicious glee, continued their feast, their words delivered with a smile, masked a poisonous intent: "Everything we want from you will be ours soon." Fear, cold and primal, coiled in Samael's gut, replacing denial with the chilling truth. This was no camp prank; it was a living nightmare.

The afternoon wore on as Heather and the counselors surrounded Amelia, their attempts at comfort failing to quell the rising distress in the pure girl's eyes. Anguish gnawed at her fueled by the thought of watching a naked man's penis, she hadn't even experienced yet the intimacy of a first kiss. Heather, however, remained resolute. "This will be a great lesson" she asserted, her voice firm, " A necessary one. It's time to stop clinging to the delusion of chivalrous knights and damsels in distress. Men are cruel beasts, and you must learn to stand up for yourself. No more shrinking back. I won't let you down this time, Amelia. Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming, you will face this." She turned to four of the counselors. "Go find Samael," she commanded, her voice brooking no argument. "It's time for him to face the consequences of his actions." The counselors exchanged a quick nod before departing. With a steely glint in her eye, Heather clasped Amelia's hand. Together, they marched towards the heart of the coming confrontation, a united front against entrenched power structures, their steps echoing with the power they will claim for themselves and every young girl in the camp."

The counselors reached Samael, their faces etched with grim purpose. "It's time," one intoned, her voice devoid of sympathy. "Meet your fate on the shower." The nearby girls erupted in a chorus of unmasked glee – this was the spectacle they'd craved since dawn. Reluctantly, Samael pulled his shirt on and resigned himself to his fate.. Defeated and escorted, he trailed the counselors, the girls swarming behind him like a cackling pack of hyenas circling a wounded lion. Their taunts and laughter echoed around him, a cruel soundtrack to his humiliation.

As the scene unfolded before him, the full gravity of his dire predicament hit Samael like a physical blow. The entire camp, a writhing mass of eager teenage girls huddled around the showers – even the flimsy carps had been cleared for this perverse spectacle. This wasn't a joke anymore; this was something far darker. Fire burned in his gut, the urge to lash out tempered only by the chilling certainty of devastating consequences. Resignation, a bitter pill, held him captive. Heather, her expression a chilling void, cut through the tension: "Shoes and socks off. Then step onto the platform."

Nice, dinner and a show afterwards.

The only thing missing is popcorn for the girls to munch on, their lips glistening with buttery goodness as they gaze upon the naked body of
a man taking an outdoor shower.