Slut Camp

Note: though I do refer to some of the characters as "children," all of the characters in this story are over 18.

"Goddammit Sam! Can you stop that!"

Paul Archer has had enough. Every time he or his wife Claudia needs to find one of their children, they always wind up walking in on them masturbating. Whether it's Jeremy jerking off into his sock, or Joanna writhing under the covers. It never ends.

And it's not just at home either: All four of the Archer children have been sent home from school after getting caught in sexually compromising positions at school. The older kids were still living at home because they couldn't hold down a job. Worst of all, three been brought home by cops who caught them masturbating in public.

"Maybe it's something in the water," Paul thought. "I get as horny as anybody, but I never had any problem controlling it..."

He's tried everything: sensitive heart-to-heart talks about the birds and the bees, screaming at them, grounding them, taking away the TV and the internet. The more they push, the worse it seems to get. When they sought professional help from specialists trained to treat compulsive masturbation: None of the kids lasted more than a few weeks: Each time, the therapist said something to the effect of, "We can't help them stop until they're ready to try." Lately, they don't even stop when he or Claudia walks in the room.

Then, last week, a miracle popped though the mail slot. A large envelope with information from Camp Everwood, a treatment center for young adults with "compulsive sexual stimulation disorders." The facility, according to the literature, mimics the structure of addiction treatment facilities: A blend of one-on-one and group therapy, relaxing activities meant to help with the campers' stimulation, and a custom **** protocol.

The brochure not only guaranteed success, but said that many patients consider it one of the most satisfying experiences in their lives. In fact, all of the counselors —nurses, orderlies, and non-medical staff that oversee daily activities— are former patients who have completed the program. It's proof that the system works!

The minimum stay is eight weeks, mimicking a normal summer camp and providing the Archers with a convenient cover. Patients may be asked to stay longer and, the brochure explained, many do decide to stay for extended periods if they feel they are making progress.

Paul was ready to ship them off right then and there, but his wife was skeptical, until she read the letter. In addition to the brochure and various forms. There was a hand-written letter from the camp's director, Dr. Magnus Vandersloot, who explained that he had heard about the Archer family from one of the children's many therapists.

The Archer parents and children gave most of the therapists permission to use them for case studies and consult with other specialists. Paul and Claudia were **** for help. The kids didn't give a shit.

When Dr. Vandersloot heard about the Archers' woes, he did some research and came to believe that his facility could help the young Archers. To compensate for what he presumed would be **** skepticism, he offered to take the children on at his own expense. At the same time, he also admitted that he had something to gain: Properly treating such difficult cases would give his camp immense credibility within greater psychiatric community.

Top-flight care? For Free? A quiet house and doesn't smell like cum all the time? How could they say no?

"Sam, pack your things!" Paul was angry at walking in on another one of his masturbating children, but he had hope that it might be the last time... "We're finally going to get you some help..."