They were finding it hard to get used to a jovial leader. In past years some had nicknamed her Stalin. There was no doubt the camp was still well-run,...enjoyable and valuable. Now it was happy. Happy was not a description that would have arisen before. Morning talks even covered subjects like being nice to each other, looking out for each other; where previously they would have been an opportunity to remind campers not to drop litter. The camper who dropped litter would still find herself in. Catherine didn’t know what to do. She pulledsome more hay into the manger walked from the pen,latched the outside gate and walked towards the house.She knew she smelt like a rutted doe. She stopped at thehose and rinsed herself off. The cold water seemed to putout the fire in her pussy. She directed the gentle streaminto her. She stayed like that for a time, then startedat the top of her head and rinsed down to the tips of herpink toenails.When she finished getting the top layer off she. More

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