Camp Cutiez

Chapter Description: Evelyn repositions herself early

Born minutes before her twin Fiona, Evelyn grew up in a affluent but demanding family where their parents, both academics, constantly compared the girls, praising Fiona's slight edges in school, sports, and social graces, leaving Evelyn feeling perpetually second-best. This dynamic propelled both into the cutthroat world of biotechnology; Evelyn earned her MBA and climbed the ranks at a major pharma firm, becoming Chief Operating Officer through meticulous strategy and alliances, but always watching Fiona surge ahead in parallel roles at rival companies. Now in her early 40s, Evelyn's success is undeniable, yet she still thinks of her sister bitterly.

Their parents getting them both a week at Camp Cutiez was supposed to help mend their relationship, but Evelyn is not looking forward to spending another week in her sister's shadow. Let's see if she can escape it...

You’ve been invited to an exclusive retreat for powerful women to socialize and rejuvenate in nature. Camp Cutiez (unfortunately named for its founder) advertises itself as a place where women who never have a minute to themselves can finally relax, far from the prying eyes and hungry sharks of their normal life.

The price is high, but for a full week, Cutiez whisks women away from their phones, zoom meetings, and penthouse suites to give them a taste of the outdoors, all in pampered luxury of course.

But as your bus from the airport arrives, things seem off. The decor seems like a normal kids camp. The counselors can’t be older than college. The sign says "Welcome Cutiez!!!". You suddenly regret giving up your phone on the bus ride. 

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As the bus parks and opens its doors, you suck it up. You paid enough for this week, you're going to at least try to enjoy it.

"Welcome to Camp Cutiez, ladies!" The counselor flashes a million-dollar smile as you disembark from the bus. He's tall with sun-kissed skin and tousled dark hair – Jake according to his name tag. "Unfortunately, we've had a bit of a situation with your luggage. The transport vehicle took a wrong turn and...well, let's just say your designer suitcases won't be joining us this week."

Around you, the group of accomplished women erupts in protest.

"This is completely unacceptable," Victoria Sterling snaps, her manicured finger jabbing the air inches from Jake's chest. "Do you have any idea what was in my luggage? I have a board meeting via satellite in three days!"

Jake's smile doesn't falter. "Don't worry! We've got plenty of camp clothes from our teen summer program. They'll be juuuust perfect for our activities."

You spot your sister Fiona rolling her eyes dramatically. "Seriously? We paid how much for this?"

A perky blonde counselor – Melissa according to her tag – appears with stacks of folded uniforms. "Everyone grab your size! Or, well..." she giggles, "the closest thing to your size!"

In the nearby bathroom building, you struggle into the ridiculous outfit. The khaki skirt barely covers your ass, the fabric stretching obscenely across your womanly hips. The green top with its childish "Camp Cutiez" logo strains across your breasts, the material thin enough that your nipples are clearly visible through it. The provided underwear – plain white cotton panties – dig into the flesh of your thighs, creating visible panty lines.

When you emerge, you're mortified to see the other executives and powerhouses in the same humiliating getup. The counselors, meanwhile, wear perfectly normal, adult-sized clothes – shorts and polo shirts with the camp logo.

"Oh. My. God." The voice belongs to Monique Duval, fashion mogul, who looks ready to have an aneurysm. "These uniforms are a crime against humanity."

"Don't be silly!" Jake laughs, his eyes lingering just a bit too long on the way your top strains. "You all look adorable! Like real campers!"

Sophia Laurent, the movie star, attempts to pull her skirt down for the tenth time. "I haven't worn something this revealing since my first B-movie where I played 'Bikini Girl Number Three.'" Despite her complaint, you notice she's garnering appreciative glances from the male counselors.

You feel a wave of humiliation wash over you as Jake claps his hands together. "Alright Cutiez! Let's head to the welcome pavilion for orientation. Follow me in a nice, orderly line!"

The women glance at each other incredulously. Did he just expect you to line up like schoolchildren?

"I run a pharmaceutical company with three thousand employees," you mutter under your breath. "I'm not lining up for some college kid playing camp counselor."

Yet as Jake and the other counselors begin walking, you all follow anyway, awkwardly tugging at too-tight clothes, your status and dignity already beginning to feel like distant concepts.

You straighten your shoulders despite the uncomfortable uniform and decide to make the best of this ridiculous situation. These women might be your unwanted campmates, but they're also powerful connections worth cultivating.

"I'm Evelyn Black, CEO of BlackPharm Pharmaceuticals," you announce to the cluster of similarly uncomfortable-looking women. "Since we're apparently stuck in this childish nightmare together, we might as well network properly."

Victoria Sterling extends her hand, maintaining her dignity despite the way her uniform strains across her curves. "Victoria Sterling, Sterling Tech. I was supposed to be at a wellness retreat with spa treatments and meditation, not... whatever this is." Her handshake is firm, professional despite the circumstances.

"This uniform is utterly degrading," Monique Duval says with a heavy French accent, constantly tugging at her skirt. "The fabric is cheap polyester blend, the stitching is amateur, and the fit is... c'est horrible!" Despite her complaints, you notice she's strategically adjusted the uniform to accentuate her runway-model figure. "I am Monique Duval of Maison Duval. Perhaps you have worn my designs?"

Sophia Laurent flashes her famous smile, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Sophia Laurent. I'm sure you recognize me from the Midnight Passion franchise." She lowers her voice. "Between us, I'm only here because my publicist thought it would make me seem 'relatable' to take a break from Hollywood glamour." She adjusts her top, inadvertently drawing attention to how it clings to her breasts.

"Elena Vasquez," says a sharp-featured woman with intense eyes. "Defense attorney. And if they don't produce our luggage soon, I'll have grounds for a class action lawsuit."

Your sister Fiona approaches, and you feel that familiar competitive tension spark between you. "Making connections already, sis?" she says with that infuriatingly confident smile. "Always working, even at camp."

"Some of us don't coast on family connections," you reply coolly, noting with satisfaction how several of the women raise eyebrows at the sibling drama.

Before Fiona can retort, Counselor Tara skips over, her adult-sized polo shirt and shorts highlighting how childish your uniforms look in comparison. "Making friends already? That's what Camp Cutiez is all about!" She claps her hands together excitedly. "Everyone will be assigned to cabins soon! Rose cabin for our big girls, Sunflower for our medium girls, and Buttercup for our little ones!"

"Excuse me," you interject, "we're all adult women here. What's this 'big girls' and 'little ones' nonsense?"

Tara giggles as if you've said something adorably naive. "That's just how we talk at camp, silly! It's part of the Cutiez experience!" She reaches out and actually pats you on the head like a child, causing several of your new acquaintances to stifle shocked laughs.

You feel your cheeks flush hot with humiliation as you instinctively jerk away from her touch. "Don't patronize me," you snap, but Tara just keeps smiling as if your adult anger is cute.

"Let's all gather for orientation!" she sings out, ignoring your protest completely. "Follow me, Cutiez!"

As you all reluctantly follow, Victoria falls into step beside you. "Something is seriously off about this place," she whispers. "But I've made some valuable contacts through worse situations. Let's compare notes later."

You nod in agreement, simultaneously planning how to maintain your dignity and how to outshine your sister in whatever bizarre camp activities await.

You catch Victoria's eye and give her a subtle nod, confirming your agreement to compare notes later. The powerful tech CEO returns a barely perceptible smile—a moment of adult conspiracy amid this infantilizing nightmare.

"Come on, Cutiez! Single-file line!" Counselor Jake's voice booms as he leads your group toward a large wooden pavilion. The orientation area features a semicircle of logs arranged as seating around a small stage. Above it hangs a banner with childish bubble letters spelling "WELCOME CUTIEZ!" surrounded by glittery stars and hearts.

You take a seat on one of the logs, wincing as the rough wood catches on the thin material of your too-short skirt. Victoria slides in beside you, while your sister Fiona positions herself directly across, where the counselors can clearly see her eagerness. You roll your eyes at her transparent attempt to curry favor.

"Welcome to Camp Cutiez!" A woman in her thirties with a sleek bob steps onto the small stage. Unlike the counselors, she wears tailored shorts and a polo that actually fits. "I'm Caroline Cutiez, and I'm thrilled to have such an accomplished group with us this week!"

"When do we get our phones back?" Elena calls out, her authoritative courtroom voice drawing all eyes.

Caroline's smile doesn't waver. "There are no phones at Camp Cutiez! This week is about disconnecting from your busy lives and reconnecting with your inner child."

A collective groan ripples through the group of executives and powerhouses.

"Now, let's go over some camp rules!" Caroline continues brightly. "Rule one: Always listen to your counselors. They know what's best for you!"

"You've got to be kidding me," you mutter under your breath. Victoria suppresses a smirk beside you.

"Rule two: Everyone participates in all activities! No sitting out! Rule three: Bathroom buddies at all times!"

"Bathroom buddies?" Monique exclaims, her French accent thickening with indignation. "I have not needed supervision in ze bathroom since I was trois years old!"

"It's for safety!" Counselor Tara chimes in, bouncing on her heels. "The woods can be dangerous!"

Caroline continues, "Rule four: Lights out at 9:00 PM sharp!"

The protests grow louder. You notice your sister Fiona isn't joining in—she's actually taking notes, as if this is all perfectly reasonable. The betrayal stings more than you'd like to admit.

"And finally," Caroline says, her voice taking on a strangely hypnotic quality that cuts through the complaints, "rule five: Have fun and be a good Cutie!"

As she speaks, you feel a slight pressure in your ears, almost imperceptible but somehow... penetrating. You shake your head to clear it.

"Now, cabin assignments!" Caroline consults her clipboard. "In Rose cabin with Counselor Tara: Victoria Sterling, Elena Vasquez, Sophia Laurent, and... Evelyn Black!"

You feel a momentary flash of relief—at least you'll be with the other serious women.

"In Sunflower cabin with Counselor Jake: Fiona Black, Karina Voss, Monique Duval, and Heather Winters!"

Your sister catches your eye across the circle and sticks out her tongue childishly. The gesture is so unexpected from the normally composed Fiona that you blink in surprise.

"Buttercup cabin is empty for now," Caroline adds with a strange little smile. "But Counselor Melissa is ready whenever we need her!"

The orientation continues with mind-numbing explanations of meal times and activity schedules. Throughout it all, you notice the counselors watching all of you with amused expressions, as if privy to a joke none of you understand.

"Last thing before dinner," Caroline says finally. "Everyone stand up and recite the Camp Cutiez pledge!"

"Absolutely not," Victoria whispers, but when Caroline leads the counselors in a threatening stare, you all reluctantly rise.

"Repeat after me: I promise to be the best Cutie I can be!"

The words stick in your throat like syrup as you and the other women mumble along, your collective humiliation palpable in the warm afternoon air.

But suddenly, you rise to your feet with determination, surprising Victoria who was mid-eye roll beside you. A competitive fire burns inside you—if your sister thinks she can outshine you even at this ridiculous camp, she's sorely mistaken. You'll beat her at her own game.

"I promise to be the best Cutie I can be!" you announce loudly and clearly, your voice ringing through the pavilion with CEO-level projection. Unlike the mumbling from the others, your voice carries the same confident authority you use in board meetings.

All eyes snap to you—some shocked, others amused. Your sister Fiona's jaw literally drops, her smug expression melting into confusion. The counselors exchange surprised glances, clearly not expecting such enthusiasm from the woman who was just complaining about being patronized.

"That's the spirit!" Counselor Tara exclaims, clapping her hands together excitedly. "Everyone follow Evelyn's example!"

You turn toward the other women, using your executive presence to command their attention. "Come on, ladies. We're stuck here for a week. If we're going to do this, let's commit." The words feel ridiculous leaving your mouth, but the competitive drive to outperform Fiona overrides your dignity.

Victoria raises an eyebrow but slowly stands straighter. "I promise to be the best Cutie I can be," she articulates with calculated precision, though you catch her subtle eye roll.

One by one, the other women follow suit, their voices growing stronger. Even Elena, the hardened attorney, reluctantly joins in.

"I promise to be the best Cutie I can be," they chorus, some more enthusiastically than others

Fiona scrambles to her feet, clearly caught off guard by your sudden embrace of the camp spirit. She recites the pledge with extra vigor, trying to compensate, but it's too late—you've already stolen her thunder.

"Wonderful!" Caroline Cutiez beams, focusing her approving gaze directly on you. "Evelyn has the right attitude! What a good example for all our Cutiez!"

You feel a strange flush of pride at the praise, then immediately feel ridiculous for caring. Yet there's something oddly satisfying about the way Caroline singles you out for approval. That same pressure returns to your ears momentarily as Caroline continues speaking.

"That's exactly the spirit that makes Camp Cutiez special!" Caroline's voice seems to resonate strangely in your head. "Now, before dinner, let's all hold hands and sing the Camp Cutiez song!"

"Oh hell no," Victoria whispers beside you, but you're already reaching for her hand with a determined grip.

"If we're doing this, we're doing it right," you whisper back. "I'm not letting my sister win at anything—not even being a better camper."

Victoria reluctantly takes your hand, her perfectly manicured fingers intertwining with yours. "You have a strange competitive streak, Evelyn."

As you sing the ridiculously childish song about friendship and fun at Camp Cutiez, you can't help but notice how Fiona struggles to keep up with the unfamiliar lyrics while you belt them out confidently after just one listen. Your business brain has always been good at quick memorization.

What's strangest is the subtle warmth spreading through your chest as you sing—a forgotten feeling of simple accomplishment. For a brief moment, you're not thinking about quarterly projections or outperforming Fiona. You're just... singing, your voice blending with the others in the afternoon sunshine.

"Perfect!" Caroline claps as the song ends. "Now Counselors will show you to your cabins before dinner. Evelyn, would you lead Rose cabin in following Counselor Tara?"

You nod, ignoring Fiona's glare from across the pavilion. As you gesture for Victoria, Elena, and Sophia to follow you, you catch Caroline watching you with an enigmatic smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

You stride confidently at the head of your group, matching Counselor Tara's bouncy pace as she leads you down a pine-needle covered path toward Rose cabin. Victoria falls in beside you, her expression torn between amusement and respect at your sudden take-charge attitude.

"Follow me, Cutiez!" Tara sings out, her ponytail swinging as she walks. "Rose cabin is for our most mature and responsible campers!"

"Hear that?" you whisper to Victoria. "Most mature. Already outranking my sister."

Victoria raises an eyebrow. "Playing the game to win it, I see."

"Always," you reply with a confident smile.

Sophia Laurent hurries to catch up, her actress training allowing her to move gracefully despite the too-tight uniform. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually glad to be in Rose cabin. Did you see the look on those Sunflower girls' faces?"

Elena Vasquez brings up the rear, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. "This is still ridiculous. But I suppose if we're stuck here..."

"That's the spirit!" you encourage, channeling your boardroom motivational skills. "If we have to do this, we might as well excel at it."

Tara glances back, her eyes widening slightly at your leadership of the group. "Wow, Evelyn! You're such a helper! Maybe you could be my special assistant this week?"

Your competitive instinct flares at the opportunity to distinguish yourself. "I'd be happy to help, Tara," you respond smoothly.

"Great!" Tara claps her hands. "You can help me show everyone their bunks when we arrive!"

The cabin comes into view—a rustic wooden structure with a wide porch and the name "Rose" carved into a hanging sign, surrounded by actual rose bushes. It's nicer than you expected, though still clearly designed with a summer camp aesthetic.

"Home sweet home!" Tara announces, bounding up the steps. "Come on in!"

You follow her inside, finding yourself in a large open room with four bunk beds, each with pink rose-patterned bedding. A central common area has a small fireplace and some couches. Basic, but not uncomfortable.

"Okay, Rose girls! Evelyn is going to help assign bunks!" Tara hands you a clipboard with names. "My special helper!"

You take the clipboard with authority, scanning the assignments. "Victoria and I will take bunks one and two," you announce decisively. "Sophia and Elena, you're in three and four."

"Top or bottom?" Victoria asks with a slight smirk that makes the innocent question sound suggestive.

"Ladies choose," you respond smoothly, maintaining your professional demeanor despite the juvenile surroundings.

As everyone settles in, Tara bounces over to you, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "You're doing so great, Evelyn! Much better than your sister—she seems a bit lost in Sunflower cabin."

A flash of satisfaction warms your chest at this information. "Is that so?" you ask casually.

"Totally! Jake says she keeps asking when she'll get her phone back." Tara rolls her eyes. "So not getting into the camp spirit! But you—" she pokes your arm playfully, "—you're a natural!"

The childish praise shouldn't matter to you, a powerful pharmaceutical executive, and yet you find yourself standing a little straighter, a strange little glow of pride warming your chest.

"Dinner's in thirty minutes," Tara announces to everyone. "Until then, unpack your camp uniforms and get settled! Remember, bathroom buddies if you need to go!"

As Tara exits to check on something outside, Victoria sidles up to you. "Clever move," she murmurs. "Getting in good with the counselors. Keep your enemies closer, right?"

"Exactly," you reply, though part of you wonders why the praise from someone as insignificant as Tara felt so... satisfying. You shake off the thought. It's just about beating Fiona. Nothing more.

Victoria glances at her watch, sighs, and looks around the cabin. "I need to use the bathroom before dinner," she announces, clearly uncomfortable with the childish 'buddy system' rule.

"I'll go with you," you offer immediately, seeing another opportunity to demonstrate your perfect compliance with camp rules. The tech CEO gives you a look of mild surprise.

"That's really not necessary, Evelyn," Victoria says quietly. "I'm a grown woman. I can manage a trip to the toilet on my own."

You smile brightly, channeling the same authoritative charm you use in board meetings. "Camp rules, Victoria. Bathroom buddies at all times. We don't want to get in trouble on our first day, do we?"

Before she can protest further, you link your arm through hers and guide her toward the bathroom facilities attached to the cabin. Victoria stiffens slightly at the contact but allows herself to be led.

"This is absurd," she mutters as you enter the small bathroom together. There are three stalls and two sinks, all sized normally but decorated with childish rose stickers and pink soap dispensers shaped like teddy bears.

"I'll wait right here," you announce cheerfully, leaning against the sink counter.

Victoria stands awkwardly, clearly waiting for you to step outside or at least turn around. When you make no move to do either, she clears her throat. "A little privacy?"

"The buddy system doesn't work if I can't see you," you counter with a shrug. "Besides, we're all girls here. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

Victoria's face flushes red. "I am the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. I do not need an audience for bodily functions."

You cross your arms, feeling a strange thrill of power. At your corporate headquarters, Victoria Sterling would outrank you, but here at camp, you're the one following rules perfectly while she struggles.

"Rules are rules, Victoria. Would you prefer I call Counselor Tara to supervise instead?"

Something in Victoria's expression shifts—a flash of vulnerability quickly masked by resignation. With a defeated sigh, she enters one of the stalls but doesn't fully close the door.

"This is utterly humiliating," she whispers, her voice tight.

"It's just camp," you reply breezily. "Think of it as team building."

The sound of Victoria's urine hitting the toilet water fills the small bathroom. You notice her knees pressed tightly together beneath the hem of her too-short skirt, her hands gripping her thighs. The powerful tech mogul reduced to this vulnerable position gives you an unexpected rush.

When she finishes, Victoria quickly adjusts her uniform and exits the stall, her cheeks still burning with embarrassment. She moves to leave immediately.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" you ask, pointing to the sink with its teddy bear soap dispenser.

Victoria freezes. "You can't be serious."

"Proper hygiene is important at camp," you insist, your voice taking on the same patronizing tone the counselors use. "We don't want to spread germs at dinner, do we?"

With a look that could freeze hell, Victoria marches to the sink and aggressively pumps the teddy bear's head. Pink, bubble gum-scented foam fills her palm. She washes quickly but thoroughly.

"Happy now?" she asks as she dries her hands.

"Very good," you praise, as if speaking to a child who's just learned a new skill. "Now we're both ready for dinner!"

As you exit the bathroom together, Victoria gives you a calculating look. "You're enjoying this power trip, aren't you?"

You smile innocently. "I'm just being a good camper."

"Sure you are," Victoria replies, her voice low. "Just remember, Evelyn—camp ends in a week, but business relationships last forever."

Despite her warning, you can't help feeling a little surge of triumph. For once, you're the one in control, not taking orders from anyone—not even Victoria Sterling. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Fiona is handling camp rules as well as you are.

You stride toward the dining hall with Victoria walking beside you, her expression still tinged with annoyance from the bathroom incident. The dinner bell rings across the camp as you both emerge onto the main path where other campers are gathering.

"Remember," you say to Victoria in a low voice, "we need to maintain our dignity somehow. Being model campers might be our best protection."

"Is that what you call what happened in the bathroom?" Victoria replies coolly. "Protection?"

You smile sweetly. "I call it adaptation. Something you tech moguls should understand."

The dining hall comes into view—a large log cabin with cheerful smoke curling from its chimney. Inside, long picnic-style tables are arranged in rows, each decorated with childish centerpieces of pinecones and plastic flowers. Counselors direct traffic, pointing campers to their assigned tables.

Counselor Jake spots you and waves enthusiastically. "Rose cabin over here! Sunflower cabin on this side!"

You notice your sister Fiona already seated with her Sunflower cabinmates. She looks uncomfortable, picking at the edge of her uniform sleeve. Perfect.

"Come on," you say to Victoria, leading her with confident strides to the Rose cabin table. Elena and Sophia are already seated, both looking miserably out of place.

"Evening, ladies," you greet them warmly, taking the seat at the head of the table as if it were the head of a boardroom. "How's everyone settling in?"

"This uniform is giving me a rash," Sophia complains, scratching discreetly at her thigh where the fabric chafes.

"At least they haven't taken our underwear yet," Elena mutters. "Though these panties feel like they're designed for teenagers."

"Well observed," you reply with a knowing smile. "Remember, we're the mature cabin. Let's act like it."

Tara bounces over to your table, carrying a tray of plastic cups filled with what appears to be juice. "Dinner drink time, Cutiez! Everyone gets camp punch!"

She places a pink plastic cup with a built-in straw in front of each of you. The cups have little teddy bears printed on them and are clearly designed for children.

"Thank you, Tara," you say with exaggerated politeness, immediately taking a sip through the straw. The punch is cloyingly sweet, tasting of artificial fruit flavors.

Victoria eyes her cup with distaste but follows your lead when you give her a pointed look. Elena and Sophia reluctantly do the same.

"Look at you being such good campers!" Tara coos, patting your shoulder. "Much better than Sunflower table—they're still arguing about the cups."

Sure enough, you glance over to see Monique dramatically refusing her cup while Fiona looks increasingly embarrassed.

"That's because Rose cabin understands camp spirit," you reply, loud enough for the Sunflower table to hear. "We're here to enjoy ourselves, right ladies?"

Victoria catches on quickly. "Absolutely," she agrees, her business acumen recognizing the strategy. "We're looking forward to all the... activities."

Counselor Jake and another female counselor enter carrying large trays. "Dinner time, Cutiez! Tonight's special: Camp Spaghetti!"

They begin distributing plastic plates of pasta covered in bright red sauce, cut into small pieces as if for children who couldn't twirl spaghetti properly. Each plate comes with a large plastic spoon—no forks or knives.

"Aren't we missing some utensils?" Elena asks when her plate arrives.

"Spoons only at Camp Cutiez!" Jake announces cheerfully. "Camp rule!"

You immediately pick up your spoon and begin eating without complaint, maintaining perfect posture despite the childish dishware. The others at your table reluctantly follow suit.

"Mmm, delicious," you declare after your first bite, despite the sauce being overly sweet and clearly from a can. "Compliments to the chef."

Jake beams at you. "What a good sport! Evelyn is really embracing camp life, isn't she, Tara?"

"Total camp champion!" Tara agrees enthusiastically.

Across the room, Fiona struggles awkwardly with her spoon, sauce dripping onto her uniform. You catch her eye and smile sweetly, raising your cup in a mock toast. The look of frustrated jealousy on her face is delicious—far better than the mediocre pasta.

"Ladies," you say quietly to your tablemates, "follow my lead and we'll get through this week with our dignity intact. Trust me."

Victoria studies you with newfound respect. "You're good," she admits quietly. "Scary good."

"I know," you reply, taking another dainty spoonful of spaghetti. "Now eat up. Good campers clean their plates."

You feel a strange pressure in your ears again as you continue eating, but you dismiss it. You're winning this bizarre game, and that's all that matters.

After dinner, Counselor Jake jumps onto a chair and claps his hands rhythmically. "Time for the Camp Cutiez after-dinner singalong, everyone! Circle up!"

Groans emanate from most of the tables, but you immediately stand up with a bright smile. "Come on, Rose cabin!" you encourage, gesturing for your cabinmates to follow. Victoria gives you a withering look but reluctantly rises.

"Must we really?" Sophia whispers, touching up her lipstick with a compact mirror.

"If you want to maintain any dignity this week, yes," you reply firmly. "Look at Sunflower cabin—they're dragging their feet. Perfect opportunity to show them up."

The campers form a large circle in the center of the dining hall. You position yourself directly across from Fiona, making sure both she and the counselors have a clear view of your enthusiasm. When Tara distributes lyric sheets with childish camp songs printed in Comic Sans font, you accept yours with a gracious "Thank you!"

"We'll start with 'The Cutiez Campfire Song'!" Tara announces, strumming an acoustic guitar. "Everyone follow my lead!"

As the counselors begin singing the ridiculous tune about friendship and marshmallows, you join in with perfect pitch and volume, your executive voice projecting confidently. You add hand motions that match the childish lyrics, swaying in time to the music.

"C is for Cutiez, the best that we can be!" you sing, noticing how Jake and Tara exchange impressed glances.

Fiona attempts to match your enthusiasm but falters on the second verse, her corporate presentation skills failing her when it comes to remembering silly lyrics. You maintain unwavering eye contact with her as you nail every word perfectly.

"Wow, Evelyn knows all the words already!" Tara exclaims during an instrumental break. "Everyone follow her example!"

Heat rises to your cheeks at the praise, a strange flutter of pleasure warming your chest. You find yourself smiling—not the practiced corporate smile you use in board meetings, but something more genuine.

"For the next song, let's have Evelyn lead the motions!" Jake suggests, beckoning you to the center of the circle.

You step forward confidently while Fiona's face darkens with jealousy. Standing beside Tara, you demonstrate the hand gestures for "The Cutiez Wiggle," a ridiculous song that involves progressively more childish dance moves.

"Arms up like this," you instruct, raising your hands above your head and wiggling your fingers. "Then hips like this!" You sway your hips in a circular motion, feeling the too-tight skirt ride up your thighs.

The other women awkwardly attempt to follow, their adult bodies looking absurd performing children's dance moves. Victoria manages with surprising grace, while Elena refuses to do more than the minimum.

"Now everybody JUMP!" you call out, fully committed to your performance.

As you jump, you feel your adult breasts bounce uncomfortably in the tight uniform top, drawing looks from Jake. The pressure in your ears returns momentarily, accompanied by a strange lightheadedness that makes the childish dancing feel oddly freeing.

"That's it, Evelyn!" Tara cheers. "You're a natural camp leader!"

When the singalong finally ends, Counselor Caroline approaches you, her eyes evaluating you with interest. "Impressive enthusiasm, Evelyn. I think you might have special potential here at Camp Cutiez."

"Thank you," you reply, slightly breathless from the exertion. "I always believe in giving one hundred percent."

"That's very evident," Caroline says with a knowing smile. "I'll be keeping an eye on you."

As you rejoin your cabinmates, Victoria leans in close. "You're either brilliant or insane," she whispers. "But whatever you're doing, it's working. The counselors adore you."

Across the room, Fiona watches you with a mixture of confusion and resentment. For once, you've outshone her completely—even if it was at something as ridiculous as a camp singalong.

You lead the procession back to Rose cabin after the singalong, walking with confident strides ahead of Victoria, Elena, and Sophia. The evening air carries a hint of pine as crickets begin their nightly chorus around the cabin grounds.

"Ladies, it's already 8:30, and lights out is at 9:00," you announce as you push open the wooden door to Rose cabin. "We should establish an efficient bedtime routine."

Victoria raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you taking this camp counselor role a bit seriously, Evelyn?"

You smile sweetly. "Just making sure we maintain order. Chaos only invites more... infantilizing treatment."

Sophia collapses dramatically onto her lower bunk. "God, I need to wash this ridiculous camp food off my face. Where are the bathroom supplies again?"

"I put them in the cabinet under the sink," you reply promptly. "I organized everyone's while you were complaining about the uniform earlier."

Elena shoots you a suspicious look. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Before you can answer, Counselor Tara bursts through the door, her perky breasts bouncing beneath her counselor polo. "Evening check, Cutiez! Oh my goodness, are you already getting ready for bedtime? What good little campers!"

"Just following camp protocol," you respond with a professional smile. "I was about to lead everyone through the bedtime routine."

Tara claps her hands excitedly. "That's so helpful, Evie! Usually I have to drag campers to brush their teeth!"

You notice Tara has called you "Evie" - a diminutive no one has used since childhood - but you let it slide, enjoying the praise too much to correct her.

"Victoria, Elena, Sophia - bathroom time," you direct, gesturing toward the small attached bathroom. "We'll go in pairs. Victoria and I will go first, then Elena and Sophia."

"I can brush my own teeth," Victoria mutters, but follows you nonetheless.

In the cramped bathroom, you squeeze toothpaste onto Victoria's brush before your own, maintaining eye contact in the mirror. Her cheeks flush slightly at being served this way.

"You know," Victoria says quietly, foam at the corners of her mouth, "this strategy of yours is clever, but be careful. I think something strange is happening to some of the women here. Did you see Monique at dinner? She was giggling like a schoolgirl by dessert."

You rinse and spit before answering. "That's exactly why maintaining control matters. Look how they're treating Sunflower cabin compared to us."

When you return to the main room, Elena and Sophia head in next. You begin straightening the cabin, tucking corners of blankets and arranging stuffed animals that were distributed earlier.

"Okay ladies, pajama time!" Tara announces, opening a trunk at the foot of the room. She pulls out four sets of matching nightwear - pink cotton shorts and tank tops with "Cutie" emblazoned across the chest. The shorts are absurdly small, clearly designed to show maximum thigh.

"These can't possibly be regulation sleepwear," Elena protests, holding up the tiny shorts.

"Camp rules!" Tara chirps. "Everyone changes before final bed check at 8:55!"

You take your set without complaint. "Form a circle and face outward," you instruct your cabinmates. "That way we can all change with some privacy."

The women comply, forming a circle with backs to each other. As you change, you feel the cool evening air on your exposed skin, the tank top riding up to reveal your midriff and the shorts barely covering your ass.

"Now," you say once everyone is changed, "hair brushing next."

You retrieve your brush and begin methodically grooming Victoria's long dark hair. She stiffens at first, then gradually relaxes under your attentive strokes.

"Doesn't that feel nice?" you murmur, surprised by how naturally this caretaking role comes to you. "Proper hair care prevents tangles."

Tara watches from the doorway, beaming with approval. "Wow, you're even helping each other with hair! Rose cabin is going to earn so many points for cooperation!"

You finish with Victoria and move to Elena, who reluctantly allows you to brush her thick waves. By the time you reach Sophia, she's practically purring with anticipation.

"My stylist charges $500 for this kind of treatment," Sophia jokes as you gently work through her blonde tresses.

With everyone's teeth brushed, pajamas on, and hair combed, you direct your cabinmates to their bunks. Victoria and Elena take the lower bunks while you and Sophia climb to the uppers.

"Ladies, remember we have morning activities at 8:00 AM," you remind them as you settle into your bunk. "Sleep well."

Tara flicks the light switch. "Goodnight, Cutiez! Evie, you're such a good helper! Maybe tomorrow you can lead morning exercises!"

In the darkness, you smile to yourself. The pressure in your ears returns briefly as you lie back, but you're too pleased with your success to worry about it. For once in your life, you're outshining Fiona at something, even if it's just being the best at this ridiculous camp.

"Goodnight, everyone," you call out sweetly, feeling strangely powerful in your childish pajamas.

Your eyes snap open at 6:00 AM, long before the official wake-up bell. Years of early board meetings have conditioned your body to rise with the sun. You quietly slip out of your bunk, careful not to wake your cabinmates. The tiny pink shorts ride up uncomfortably as you stretch, and you tug them down with a grimace.

You find your camp uniform neatly folded where you left it and quickly change, straightening the ridiculous khaki skirt as best you can. Outside, the morning air carries a hint of dew as you make your way toward the counselors' cabin, where you suspect Tara will be preparing for the day.

As you approach, you hear music playing softly. You knock firmly—the same assertive rap you use before entering boardroom meetings.

"Who's up so early?" Tara's voice calls out, sounding surprisingly childish without her performative counselor enthusiasm.\

You push the door open to find her in pink pajama shorts and a tank top, hair disheveled, surrounded by activity sheets and craft supplies. "Good morning, Tara. I thought I'd help you prepare for today's activities."

Tara's eyes widen in surprise. "Evie! Wow, none of the campers ever wake up early. Usually they whine about getting up at 8."

"I'm not like the other campers," you say, immediately taking stock of the chaos around her. "These activity sheets need organization. You have them all mixed up."

"I know," Tara admits, running her fingers through her tangled blonde hair. "Caroline wants special activities for Rose cabin today, and I'm supposed to organize everything, but I'm not really good at—"

"Planning," you finish for her, already gathering papers into neat stacks. "Let me help. What's the theme for today?"

"Water fun day," Tara explains, looking relieved as you bring order to her mess. "Swimming in the morning, then water balloon games after lunch."

You nod briskly. "We'll need to divide the campers by swimming ability, organize the equipment, and establish a rotation schedule for the activities to maximize efficiency."

Tara blinks at you. "Wow, you sound like my business professor."

"I've run a pharmaceutical company for fifteen years," you remind her, already sketching out a schedule grid on blank paper. "This is just like planning a product launch, except with water balloons instead of medication."

Over the next hour, you systematically reorganize the entire day's activities. Tara watches in awe as you create clear schedules, activity rotations, and even contingency plans for weather changes.

"This is amazing," she admits, now fully dressed in her counselor uniform. "Usually I just wing it and hope for the best."

"Winging it is inefficient," you explain, your corporate instincts fully engaged. "Now, for the water balloon fight, we should divide the teams strategically."

As you continue working, you notice Tara increasingly deferring to your judgment. When Caroline drops by to check on preparations, she finds Tara nodding enthusiastically as you explain your organizational system.

"Well, good morning, Evelyn," Caroline says, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Taking charge already?"

"Just helping," you reply with practiced modesty, though you can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at her impressed expression.

"Evie's amazing," Tara gushes, using that childish nickname again. "She's organized everything! Look at these schedules!"

Caroline examines your work, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Very impressive. You know, Evelyn, we sometimes identify campers with special potential. Would you be interested in taking on more responsibility today? Perhaps leading some activities?"

"Of course," you respond, excitement building in your chest. "I'd be happy to."

"Perfect!" Caroline hands you a counselor's whistle—a small pink plastic thing on a lanyard. "Consider yourself Tara's assistant for the day."

You slip the whistle around your neck, feeling a strange thrill at this small token of authority. As the wake-up bell finally rings in the distance, you stand taller, already anticipating how Fiona will react when she sees you with a counselor's whistle.

"I'd better get back to wake my cabin," you say, gathering your materials.

"Our cabin," Tara corrects with a giggle. "But you're right. Time to rise and shine!"

As you walk back toward Rose cabin with Tara, the morning sun illuminates the camp grounds. For the first time since arriving at this ridiculous place, you feel genuinely powerful. The childish uniform doesn't seem quite so humiliating with a counselor's whistle around your neck.

You stride back to Rose cabin with Tara, your new whistle bouncing against your chest with each step. The plastic feels like a badge of honor—tangible proof that you're rising above this childish charade while others sink into it.

"Remember the schedule," you instruct Tara quietly as you reach the cabin door. "Victoria and Elena shower first, then Sophia. I've allocated exactly twelve minutes per rotation."

Tara nods eagerly. "You're so organized, Evie! I usually just let them figure it out themselves."

"That's why there's always chaos," you reply with practiced patience. "Structure creates comfort."

You push open the door to find your cabinmates still sleeping soundly. Victoria's dark hair spills across her pillow, Elena's arm dangles from her lower bunk, and Sophia has somehow managed to look glamorous even while drooling slightly onto her pillow.

You reach for the whistle around your neck, bringing it to your lips with a surprising thrill of authority. The sharp blast echoes through the cabin, causing all three women to jolt awake with various exclamations of shock.

"Rise and shine, ladies!" you announce, clapping your hands. "It's 6:30, and we have a schedule to maintain!"

Victoria sits up, her eyes narrowing when she spots the whistle. "What the hell is that around your neck?"

"Evie's my special assistant today!" Tara explains cheerfully. "Caroline was super impressed with her organization skills!"

"Of course she was," Elena mutters, running fingers through her tangled hair.

You consult your clipboard. "Victoria and Elena, you'll shower first. Sophia, you'll help me organize the activity supplies for water fun day."

"I need my coffee before organizing anything," Sophia groans, burying her face in her pillow.

You blow the whistle again, shorter this time but no less commanding. "Coffee comes after morning hygiene. Camp schedule."

To your satisfaction, all three women begin moving, albeit with grumbles and eye-rolls. Victoria gathers her toiletries, then pauses, looking between you and Tara.

"Wait, don't I need a bathroom buddy?" she asks with clear disdain.

"Excellent question," you reply, seizing the opportunity. "Tara, would you mind accompanying Victoria? I need to review the morning announcements."

Tara blinks in surprise. "But I'm the counselor, I should—"

"You said it yourself—I'm your assistant today," you remind her smoothly. "And assistants handle paperwork while counselors attend to campers' needs. Victoria needs a bathroom buddy."

Victoria's eyebrows shoot up as she realizes what you're doing—subtly demoting Tara to camper status while elevating yourself. A hint of respect flickers in her eyes.

"Come on, Tara," Victoria says with newfound cooperation. "I need to shower before breakfast."

Tara hesitates, then follows Victoria toward the bathroom, momentarily confused by the role reversal but unwilling to challenge it in front of the campers.

As soon as they're gone, Elena approaches you. "Clever move," she murmurs. "But don't forget who you really are, Evelyn. This place does something to people."

"I know exactly who I am," you respond confidently. "Now please gather your shower things. You're next in rotation."

While organizing the day's schedule with Sophia, who proves surprisingly cooperative once fully awake, you hear giggles from the bathroom. Victoria emerges with damp hair, looking refreshed, while Tara follows with a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Your turn, Elena," Victoria announces. "Tara's quite the attentive bathroom buddy. She even offered to scrub my back."

Tara's blush deepens. "That's what good buddies do!"

You smile, noting how easily the power dynamics have shifted. With your whistle and clipboard, you've created a new hierarchy—one where you're firmly on top.

"Excellent," you say, checking off an item on your schedule. "Now, after breakfast, we'll begin water activities at the lake. I've prepared a special demonstration for Rose cabin that will show everyone what proper campers look like."

Your cabinmates exchange glances, but none challenge your authority. The whistle around your neck feels increasingly natural, as if it was always meant to be there.

You gather Rose cabin outside your bunk, the morning sun casting long shadows across the dewy grass. Your whistle gleams importantly around your neck as you check your clipboard.

"Line up by height, ladies," you instruct, watching with satisfaction as Victoria, Elena, and Sophia reluctantly comply. Tara stands awkwardly to the side, her counselor status visibly diminished by your commanding presence.

"Today's schedule is tight," you announce. "Breakfast at 7:15, followed by swimming assessments at 8:30. After lunch, we have water balloon activities."

Victoria catches your eye with a slight smirk. "Assistant Counselor Evelyn certainly takes her job seriously."

"Order creates success," you reply, adjusting your too-tight khaki skirt with a tug. "Now, march in formation to breakfast. Tara, you'll bring up the rear to ensure no one falls behind."

Tara's brow furrows in confusion. "But I usually lead—"

"Caroline specifically praised my organizational skills," you interrupt smoothly. "And my schedule indicates I should lead the formation. Unless you'd like to discuss this with Caroline?"

Tara's resistance crumbles immediately. "No, that's fine! You lead, Evie!"

As your cabin marches toward the dining hall, you deliberately take a route that passes Sunflower cabin. Your keen eyes spot Fiona emerging, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. Her normally perfect hair sticks up at odd angles, and her uniform is wrinkled. Most strikingly, she appears to be pouting like a teenager.

"Good morning, Sunflower cabin!" you call out cheerfully, giving your whistle a short, authoritative blow. "Rose cabin is heading to breakfast. Feel free to follow our formation!"

Fiona's eyes widen at the sight of your whistle. "Evelyn? What is that around your neck?"

"Oh, this?" you touch the plastic whistle casually. "Caroline appointed me Assistant Counselor for my exceptional organizational abilities. Nothing you would understand, Fi-Fi."

The childhood nickname slips out before you can stop it, but the look of mortification on Fiona's face makes it worth it. She flushes crimson as Counselor Jake emerges from Sunflower cabin behind her.

"Wow, you got promoted already?" Jake asks, eyeing your whistle with interest. "That's impressive, Evelyn."

"Some of us are natural leaders," you reply with a sweet smile toward your sister. "While others clearly need more guidance."

As you continue marching your cabin toward the dining hall, you fall into step beside Victoria, lowering your voice. "Tara's position is weaker than I thought. Caroline practically handed me her job this morning."

Victoria nods thoughtfully. "I noticed. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Depends. Are you thinking we should continue undermining her authority until she's essentially demoted to camper status?"

"Exactly," Victoria murmurs. "During swimming, we could suggest she needs remedial lessons while you demonstrate proper technique."

Elena leans in from behind. "And during water balloon activities, we could ensure she gets absolutely soaked while you stay dry and professional."

Sophia giggles. "If she's reduced to a dripping mess while Evelyn remains pristine, Caroline will definitely notice the contrast."

You smile approvingly at your cabinmates. "Perfect. By lunchtime, I want her asking permission to use the bathroom."

As you approach the dining hall, you straighten your posture and adjust your whistle prominently. Through the windows, you can see Caroline watching your orderly procession with evident approval.

"Remember," you whisper to your cabinmates, "follow my lead and treat Tara like she's just another camper. The more childish she appears, the more adult I look by comparison."

You blow your whistle again, louder this time, ensuring all eyes are on you as Rose cabin enters the dining hall in perfect formation—with your sister and her cabin scrambling to catch up behind you.

The feeling of power is intoxicating, and the plastic whistle against your chest now feels more valuable than any corporate achievement you've ever earned.

The dining hall buzzes with morning activity as you lead Rose cabin to their designated table. The smell of pancakes and syrup fills the air, but your focus remains on establishing your new hierarchy. Tara trails behind your formation, looking increasingly confused about her diminishing role.

"Everyone take a seat," you announce, your whistle bouncing prominently against your chest. "I'll handle breakfast service today."

Tara steps forward hesitantly. "But that's my job, Evie. I always serve—"

"Relax," you interrupt with a dismissive wave. "You've been working so hard. Take a seat with the other girls."

The word 'girls' hangs in the air, clearly grouping Tara with the campers rather than the staff. Victoria and Elena exchange knowing smiles as they witness your power play.

"But Caroline expects me to—" Tara begins again, her voice taking on an unexpectedly childish whine.

"Caroline was quite clear about my authority this morning," you counter firmly. "Now, please address me properly as Counselor Evelyn when speaking to me in front of the campers."

A collective gasp rises from your table. Even Sophia, who typically remains absorbed in her compact mirror, looks up in shock at your boldness.

Tara's cheeks flush crimson. She glances around nervously, clearly searching for another counselor to intervene, but finding none. Jake is busy with Sunflower cabin across the room, and Caroline hasn't arrived yet.

"I... but I'm still a counselor too," Tara protests weakly.

"Of course you are," you agree with patronizing sweetness. "But hierarchy matters, doesn't it? And right now, I'm handling breakfast service while you rest. Isn't that right... Tara?"

You deliberately pause before her name, the absence of any title making your point crystal clear. Your cabinmates watch the exchange with barely contained delight as the power dynamic shifts visibly before their eyes.

Tara sinks into a seat beside Victoria, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Yes... Counselor Evelyn," she mumbles, the words clearly painful for her to utter.

You smile broadly, experiencing a rush of satisfaction that feels almost sexual in its intensity. "Excellent! Now everyone sit tight while I get our pancakes."

You stride confidently to the serving station, where Counselor Melissa is distributing breakfast. She raises an eyebrow at your whistle.

"Assistant for the day?" she asks knowingly.

"So far," you reply with a meaningful smile. "Six plates of pancakes for Rose cabin, please."

Armed with a tray of steaming pancakes, you return to your table with the poise of a CEO entering a board meeting. You distribute plates to each camper, deliberately serving Tara last and providing her with the smallest portion.

"Thank you, Counselor Evelyn," Victoria says pointedly, shooting a triumphant look at Tara.

Elena and Sophia quickly follow suit, echoing the title with exaggerated respect.

Tara stares at her meager pancake stack, her lower lip trembling slightly. "Thank you... Counselor Evelyn," she whispers, unable to meet your eyes.

Across the dining hall, you spot Fiona watching the scene with obvious confusion and jealousy. Her hair remains disheveled, and there's a suspicious stain on the front of her uniform that looks like spilled juice. When she catches you looking, she quickly averts her gaze.

"After breakfast," you announce to your table, "we'll proceed to the swimming area for assessments. Tara, since you'll be participating rather than supervising today, make sure you change into your swimsuit quickly."

Tara's eyes widen. "My swimsuit? But I'm supposed to stay dressed as a—"

"Swimming assessments require demonstration," you interrupt smoothly. "And you're just the right person to demonstrate the basic techniques for our less... coordinated campers."

Tara nods mechanically, her role as counselor visibly slipping away with each passing moment under your confident assault. The plastic whistle around your neck feels increasingly warm against your skin, almost pulsing with the power it represents.

After breakfast, you lead your campers toward the swimming area, clipboard in hand and whistle bouncing prominently against your chest. The morning sun glints off the lake as you stride confidently ahead of your group. Victoria, Elena, and Sophia follow behind you, with a dejected Tara trailing at the rear.

"Today's swimming assessment will determine everyone's water safety level," you announce, turning to face the group. "All campers must be evaluated before free swim privileges are granted."

You spot Fiona approaching with her Sunflower cabin, her hair still disheveled and her expression sullen. She doesn't notice you at first, chatting with Monique as they near the swimming area.

"Sunflower cabin!" you call out, giving your whistle a sharp blow that makes Fiona jump. "You're just in time to join Rose cabin's swimming assessment."

Fiona's eyes widen with recognition. "Evelyn? You're running the swim test?"

"Counselor Evelyn," Victoria corrects her with a smirk, emphasizing your title.

Fiona's face flushes crimson. "Since when are you—"

"Since Caroline recognized my leadership potential," you interrupt smoothly. "Now, everyone to the changing rooms. Swimsuits on in five minutes."

In the female changing area, you watch as your cabinmates strip down. The camp-provided swimwear is predictably infantilizing—one-piece suits with childish patterns and colors that barely contain adult curves. You, however, have been provided a slightly more mature counselor suit—still a one-piece, but navy blue with subtle authority.

Tara emerges from a changing stall in a tiny pink bikini that leaves little to imagination. The top struggles to contain her ample breasts, and the bottoms ride high on her hips, revealing a substantial amount of her round buttocks.

"Is that standard counselor swimwear?" you ask with feigned innocence.

"It's my personal suit," Tara explains, tugging self-consciously at the fabric. "We're allowed to wear our own if we prefer."

"How convenient," you reply. "You'll be perfect for our demonstration today."

Once everyone is changed, you lead the group to the lake's edge. Fiona keeps glancing at your whistle, her jealousy palpable. You organize everyone into a semicircle facing the water.

"Tara will be my special helper for today's demonstration," you announce, gesturing for her to join you at the front. "She'll show us proper form while I provide critique."

Tara steps forward hesitantly, her cheeks flushed. The male campers from Sunflower cabin openly ogle her nearly naked form.

"First, basic floating technique," you instruct. "Tara, please demonstrate."

She wades into the water and attempts to float on her back. You follow her in, still fully clothed in your counselor suit.

"No, no, that's all wrong," you criticize loudly, placing your hands on her shoulders. "Your back isn't straight enough."

Your fingers press into her skin, adjusting her position with deliberate firmness. You slide one hand down to the small of her back, lifting her slightly while the other hand rests just below her neck.

"Feel how I'm positioning you?" you ask, your voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Your body is too tense. Relax into my hands."

Tara's breathing quickens as your fingers brush against the side of her breast. You pretend not to notice, maintaining a professional expression while continuing to "adjust" her form.

"Now kick your legs slowly," you direct, one hand sliding to her thigh to guide the movement. "No, gentler. Like this."

Your hand grips her inner thigh, pushing her legs apart slightly. Tara gasps softly, her body trembling under your touch.

"Is the water too cold for you, Tara?" you ask innocently, fully aware that her reaction has nothing to do with temperature.

"N-no, Counselor Evelyn," she stammers, her nipples visibly hardening beneath the thin fabric of her bikini top.

Fiona watches the demonstration with a mixture of confusion and fascination, clearly struggling to process your newfound authority over someone who was supposedly your superior.

"Let's try the breaststroke next," you announce, helping Tara into a prone position. Your hands cup her abdomen as you align her body. "Arch your back more. Push your chest forward."

Tara complies, her body increasingly responsive to your commands. As she attempts the stroke, you critique her mercilessly.

"Your arm movement is sloppy," you declare. "Let me show you."

You press yourself against her back, reaching around to grasp her wrists. The contact is intimate, almost embracing her from behind as you guide her arms through the proper motion. You can feel her heart racing as your breasts press against her shoulder blades.

"Better," you murmur close to her ear. "But you still need lots of practice. We'll have to schedule private lessons."

Tara nods eagerly, her breathing uneven, cheeks flushed with a mixture of humiliation and arousal.

"Now let's see your diving form," you announce to the group, gesturing for Tara to climb onto the small diving platform at the edge of the lake. "Proper technique is essential for water safety."

Tara hesitantly ascends the platform, her pink bikini leaving her feeling exposed as all eyes follow her movements. The morning sun highlights every curve of her body, and you notice how she tries to maintain her dignity despite her increasingly subordinate position.

"First, demonstrate the standard dive position," you command, clipboard in hand.

She bends forward at the waist, arms extended in front of her. You shake your head disapprovingly.

"All wrong," you declare, climbing up beside her. "Your stance is completely incorrect."

Without warning, you place your hands on her hips from behind, fingers pressing firmly into her flesh. You feel her tense at your touch.

"Legs wider apart," you instruct, using your knee to nudge her thighs open. "And bend deeper."

Your hands slide up her sides, then down her arms, positioning them while pressing your body against her back. The contact is unnecessary but deliberate, your breasts pushing against her shoulder blades.

"Hold this position," you whisper near her ear, loud enough that only she can hear. "Show everyone how well you can follow instructions."

Tara remains frozen in the compromising position—bent over with her legs spread, bottom raised high and prominently displayed in her tiny bikini. The position strains the fabric, causing it to ride up further between her cheeks.

"Excellent," you say loudly. "Everyone observe Tara's form. This is the perfect position for... entry into the water."

Your emphasis on "entry" makes Tara shudder noticeably. You step back, pretending to assess her form while actually enjoying the spectacle you've created.

"Now, demonstrate the pike position," you continue. "Touch your toes."

Tara complies, bending even deeper. The position forces her breasts to hang prominently, threatening to spill out of her bikini top. You move in front of her, crouching to "inspect" her form, your face uncomfortably close to her cleavage.

"Your shoulders are too tense," you observe, running your hands along her upper back and over her shoulders. Your fingers brush against the sides of her breasts as you adjust her position. "Relax into it."

You glance at your audience and notice the effect this display is having. Victoria and Elena shift uncomfortably, crossing their legs and averting their gazes occasionally. Sophia pretends to check her nails but keeps stealing glances. The male campers from Sunflower cabin have given up any pretense of disinterest, openly staring with obvious arousal.

Fiona, however, catches your attention. Your sister is transfixed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Her chest rises and falls rapidly with shallow breaths. When she notices your gaze, she doesn't look away.

You maintain eye contact with Fiona as you continue to position Tara's body, letting your hands linger longer than necessary on her thighs, her waist, her shoulders. Then, deliberately, you wink at your sister.

Fiona's reaction is immediate and intense. Her face flushes crimson, and she presses her thighs together tightly. She looks away quickly, but not before you see the conflicted desire in her eyes.

"Next," you announce, turning back to Tara, "show us the correct form for a backward dive."

Tara straightens, her breathing uneven and face flushed. She positions herself at the edge of the platform, back to the water.

"Arms up," you instruct, standing close beside her.

As she raises her arms, you place your hands on her abdomen, ostensibly to correct her posture. Your fingers spread across her stomach, dangerously close to the waistband of her bikini bottom.

"Arch your back more," you command, one hand sliding up to press between her shoulder blades while the other remains on her lower stomach. The position pushes her chest out prominently while accentuating the curve of her buttocks.

"Hold it steady," you whisper, your mouth close to her ear. "Everyone is watching you, Tara. How does it feel to be the one taking orders?"

She trembles under your touch, a small whimper escaping her lips. You've reduced the former counselor to a quivering display model, and the power rush is intoxicating.

As you continue putting Tara through increasingly compromising positions, you notice Caroline Cutiez herself approaching the swimming area. The camp owner's presence immediately draws attention, her crisp white polo and khaki shorts contrasting with the childish swimwear of the campers. A small brooch glints at her collar - something you've noticed all the counselors wear.

Caroline observes your demonstration for several minutes, her expression neutral but evaluative. When Tara completes another awkward diving position, Caroline gestures for the other campers to begin practicing.

"Everyone into the water," she calls out. "Practice the techniques Counselor Evelyn has demonstrated."

The campers eagerly splash into the lake, leaving you standing with Caroline by the diving platform as Tara attempts to join the other counselors.

"Not you, Tara," Caroline says sharply. "Remain here."

Tara freezes, confusion evident on her face as Caroline sits down on a nearby bench, motioning for you to join her. The sounds of splashing and laughter create a background for your conversation.

"I've been watching your leadership this morning, Evelyn," Caroline begins, her voice low enough that only you can hear. "You have a natural talent for this work."

"Thank you," you respond, feeling the whistle warm against your skin.

"I've made a decision," Caroline continues. "Effective immediately, you'll be taking full charge of Rose cabin. Tara will be reassigned as your camper."

Your heart races with triumph as Caroline reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small pin identical to the one on her collar. She fastens it to your swimsuit without explanation.

"What's happening?" Tara interrupts, stepping closer with water dripping from her nearly-exposed curves. "I'm supposed to be leading Rose cabin."

Caroline turns to her, expression shifting instantly from professional respect to condescending patience.

"Tara, sweetheart," she says in the same tone you've heard counselors use with difficult campers, "the big girls are talking right now. Why don't you go practice your floating?"

"But I'm a counselor!" Tara protests, her voice rising to a childish pitch. "You can't just demote me! That's not fair!"

Caroline sighs dramatically, turning to you with a raised eyebrow. "Seems like someone needs to learn about respecting authority. Counselor Evelyn, I believe this tantrum falls under your jurisdiction now."

Tara's eyes widen as she realizes the severity of the situation. "No, wait, I didn't mean to—"

"Tara," you interrupt firmly, standing to your full height. "That's enough. Your behavior is inappropriate and disappointing."

"But Evelyn—" she begins.

"Counselor Evelyn," you correct her sharply. "And this is exactly the problem. You're demonstrating exactly why this change is necessary."

Caroline nods approvingly. "Handle it as you see fit, Counselor. I trust your judgment."

As Caroline walks away, you turn to Tara, who's now trembling slightly, her wet skin glistening in the morning sunlight.

"Since you want to act like a misbehaving camper," you say, "you'll be treated like one. Hands on your head, facing the tree."

"You can't be serious," she whispers, glancing around at the other campers in the water.

"One," you begin counting, remembering how the counselors had used this technique during orientation. "Two..."

Tara quickly places her hands on her head and turns to face the nearest pine tree. The position forces her to arch her back slightly, pushing her buttocks out in the tiny pink bikini.

"Fifteen minutes of reflection time," you announce loudly enough for the nearby swimmers to hear. "Maybe that will help you remember your place at Camp Cutiez."

From the water, you catch Fiona staring at the scene in disbelief, while Victoria gives you a subtle nod of respect. The power shift is complete - you've transformed from camper to counselor in less than 24 hours, and reduced your former superior to a punished child.

With your new authority firmly established, you wade confidently into the lake where the campers are practicing their swimming techniques. Your whistle bounces against your chest, catching the sunlight as you move through the water with purpose. The small pin Caroline attached to your swimsuit gleams, marking you as different from the others splashing about.

"Alright, everyone!" you call out, your voice carrying across the water. "Let's see those strokes we demonstrated earlier. Form two lines and show me your best freestyle."

The campers quickly comply, arranging themselves into orderly rows. Victoria and Elena execute the movements with practiced precision, while Sophia puts more effort into keeping her hair dry than perfecting her technique. Your gaze, however, locks onto Fiona, who's struggling at the back of the group

"Watch your arm rotation," you instruct the group, but your eyes never leave your sister. "Full extension, then pull through the water with purpose."

You wade closer to Fiona, noting how her movements lack confidence. Unlike you, she's never been athletic, always preferring books to sports. The camp-issued swimsuit strains against her curves, clearly designed for someone smaller.

"Fiona," you say, just loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Your technique needs adjustment."

She glances up, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and resentment. "I'm doing fine, Evelyn."

"Counselor Evelyn," you correct her firmly. "And no, you're not. Your elbow is dropping, and your kick is uncoordinated."

Before she can protest, you move behind her in the water. "Let me help you," you say, placing your hands on her shoulders exactly as you did with Tara earlier.

Fiona stiffens at your touch. "I don't need—"

"Everyone needs guidance sometimes," you interrupt, sliding your hands down her arms. "Even brilliant biotech CEOs."

You position yourself close behind her, your body nearly touching hers as you guide her arms through the proper motion. "Extend fully," you instruct, your breath warm against her ear. "Then pull through with power."

Your hands move to her waist, steadying her as she attempts the stroke. "Your body should rotate with each arm movement," you explain, applying gentle pressure to turn her torso. "Like this."

The contact is intimate, sisterly yet charged with your new power dynamic. Fiona's breathing quickens, her body simultaneously resisting and yielding to your guidance.

"Now kick from the hip, not the knee," you continue, one hand sliding down to her thigh to correct her movement. "Smooth and powerful."

Fiona attempts to follow your instructions, her movements becoming more fluid under your touch. "That's... better," she admits reluctantly.

Nearby campers watch with interest as you continue to "help" your sister. Victoria raises an eyebrow, clearly noting the parallel to your earlier demonstration with Tara.

"Much improved," you praise, finally stepping back. "But you'll need more practice. I'll schedule you for additional lessons."

Fiona's face flushes with color. "You can't just—"

"I absolutely can," you counter smoothly, tapping your whistle. "It's my responsibility to ensure all campers are water-safe."

From the shore, you notice Caroline watching with evident approval. Tara remains in her punishment position by the tree, hands still on her head, observing your instruction with visible confusion.

"Everyone continue practicing," you announce to the group. "I'll be evaluating each of you individually."

As the swimmers resume their exercises, Fiona lingers near you, her expression troubled. "What's happening with you?" she whispers. "How did you become a counselor overnight?"

You smile, enjoying her confusion. "Perhaps I'm simply better suited to leadership here," you reply. "Some people are born to follow, Fiona. You might want to get used to it."

-------------------------

That was 17 turns of my newest CYOA game: Camp Cutiez. This is a pretty strange version where I wanted to become a counselor myself. Usually it's about your regression from powerful executive to needy little camper. If some version of that sounds good to you, or you want to put your own spin on the scenario, check it out here:

https://infiniteworlds.app/shared/PvFaVe

And if you want me to continue posting this particular version of events, or you have requests for directions, let me know in the comments.