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Camp Hazelwood - Nikki helps out at Camp Hazelwood for a week, but quickly discovers it's more than she bargained for

• Part 1: Poker Night - Nikki takes control of a rowdy bunch of teenagers through a loaded game of Poker.

• Part 2: Hazel Tokens - Nichole learns of a unique tradition at Camp Hazelwood.

• Part 3: Full House - Nikki makes a dangerous gamble.

• Part 3: Good Girl - Nikki tries to understand how things went so wrong.

*This work is mostly my work, though I did use some AI to help with outlining, revisions, and to write the poker scenes.*

“Thanks, again, Nicole.”

“No problem,” I said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone to a girls’ camp. It’ll be just like old times.”

Dan chuckled, but didn’t look up from the road, which was being pelted with rain. “Well, just remember that you’re going to be a counselor, not a camper. And hopefully it’ll just be a week until Amy can get back.”

“Still,” I said, looking outside the window at the rain. Hopefully, it cleared up before we got to the camp. I only packed enough to get me through the week. “I’m hoping to have some fun.”

“Sure,” Dan said. “I’ll warn you, though. Those girls can be a handful.”

“I’m sure I can handle them,” I said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

The rain turned into a drizzle just as we pulled up into the main lodge parking lot. Inside was bright, filled with warm light reflecting off the orange-yellow of the wooden interior.
“Nice place,” I said. “I’m normally used to something more…rustic.”

Dan reached over the main desk, searching for something. “The families that send their girls to Camp Hazelwood tend to be pretty well off. They’re pretty generous with their funding.” He made a small grimace. “Without them, this whole place would go under, so I’m counting on you to keep things smooth, especially with these older girls. We normally lose their funding once they age out, but sometimes, if they enjoy themselves enough, the families keep donating.”

He found what he was reaching for: A clipboard with a color-coded schedules, “Camp Hazelwood - Age 17 Campers” printed across the top in big letters, and a laminated lanyard that said, “Visitor.”

“Sorry,” Dan said. “I didn’t have time to print out an official one. Just tell the girls you’re filling in for Amy for the week. They might be a little disappointed—Amy has been the camp counselor for this particular gaggle of girls every year since they were 12—but I’m sure they’ll warm up to you.”

I nodded, putting on the lanyard. “You can count on me.”

“Great. Roll call’s every morning, then breakfast, then activities. Schedule’s on the clipboard. Counselors sleep in the girls’ cabins, and lights out is at 11:00. Yours is Cabin 13.”

“Got it.”

“You’re really helping me in a bind here, Nikki. Thanks again. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Finding my way through the dark was a bit of a challenge, but eventually I made my way to the center of the camp, a tall flagpost the centerpiece, with meandering paths leading to two dozen cabins.

I took a deep breath, and headed towards Cabin 13, my boots sloshing in the mud and my suitcase in tow.
I was going to sneak into the cabin, as to not wake the girls, but it turned out I didn’t need to. The lights were still on, with some girls huddled on the floor playing a card game. They looked up as I entered.

One of them with striking blonde hair looked up and scowled. “Who are you?”

“I’m Nichole, but you can call me Nikki.” Immediately, I regretted it. Nikki? I wanted these girls to respect me, not some teenage girl.

“Are you our counselor for the week?” Someone asked.

“No, she’s wearing a visitor badge,” the blonde said. “Nikki.”

I coughed and straightened up. “I am a counselor.”

“Whatever.” The girl shook her head and returned to her game. I tried not to glare. She was going to be trouble, I could feel it.
“What happened to Counselor Amy?” One of the other girls asked.

“She had a family emergency. They asked me to fill in at the last moment.”

Some of the girls groaned with disappointment. I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. Also off to a bad start.

I needed to take control. Show them that they couldn’t push me around.

“This week we’re going to be together, so I suggest you respect my authority.”

It sounded stupid as soon as I said it. Some of the girls giggled. The blonde girl simply sighed, rolled her eyes, and turned so her back was facing me.
“What’s your name,” I asked.

“Tris. Tris Calloway,” the girl said, like it was supposed to mean something.

“Calloway…like the high school? Calloway High”

“That’s the one,” Tris said. “My dad funded it. ‘Nothing but the best for his daughter.’” She flashed a grin, and then returned to her game. I glanced down to the floor. It looked like Poker.

“Well, it’s 11:00, so lights out.”

Some of the girls groaned.

Without looking up, Tris said, “Counselor Amy let us stay up past 11:00.”

I gritted my teeth. She was being so rude. If I forced them to go to bed, I’d look like the bad guy, and I’d be the enemy of these girls the rest of the week. but if I let them stay up, then it would undermine my authority.

I could punish Tris…but could I? Dan wasn’t super clear where my authority started and ended.

A stroke of brilliance. “Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” I said. “Game of Poker. 50 chips each. I win, you go to bed.”

For a moment, Tris looked surprised, and I reveled in the slight panic in her face. She was the popular girl in high school, the one every one envied and wanted to be like. Knocking the popular girl down a peg would be so satisfying.

Then she grinned. “Deal. And if I win? You sleep commando, Nikki.”

I bit my tongue. I wanted to correct her, make her call my Counselor Nichole, but I couldn’t punish her. I had introduced myself as Nikki.
Now it was my turn to be stunned. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She did not just suggest that as an appropriate bet. But I was cornered now. I had to go through with the bet, or I’d look weak, caving at the slightest resistance. No, this was the way to put Tris in her place, and assert my control. “You’re on, blondie.”

The girls scrambled to form a tighter circle, clearing a spot for me between Tris. Someone dumped an extra stack of chips in front of me, each one plastic but weighty enough to mimic the real thing. I ruffled the stack nervously. I hadn't played seriously since college.
Tris dealt like a pro, fingers quick and fluid, chips clacking with practiced rhythm. "Texas Hold 'Em," she said. “No-limit.” Of course it would be no-limit. She was trying to tilt me right out of the gate.

We started with 50 chips each. Blinds were 1 and 2, small and big respectively. Tris glanced at me, eyes half-lidded, daring me to crumble before the first flop.

First hand, I folded a 7-2 offsuit. Garbage. Tris scooped the pot with a smug smirk and a top pair. Second hand, I played cautiously, feeling out the rhythm of the table. It was clear she knew what she was doing—calculated aggression, pushing with semi-bluffs, keeping everyone unsure.
But I wasn't just a novice. I'd spent long nights with friends at dive bars and smoky basements. I knew the game. I just needed to settle my nerves and stop imagining what the girls would say if I lost. Commando. Ugh.

“Raise ten,” Tris said with a smirk, sliding her chips forward with a flick. Her face was cool, but I caught the briefest flick of her thumb against her temple. A tell? Maybe.

I peeked at my hole cards: King of Hearts, Jack of Hearts. Suited Broadway. Decent.
“I call.”

The flop came down: 10 of Hearts, Queen of Hearts, 4 of Clubs.

My pulse surged. I had an open-ended straight draw and a flush draw—more than enough equity.

“Check,” I said.

Tris cocked her head, amused. “All that build-up and you check?”

She bet 15. A heavy move—trying to price me out.

I stared her down, counted chips, then called. The turn brought a 3 of Spades. Useless.

She bet again, this time 20.

I hesitated. If I missed the river, I'd be bleeding chips. But if I hit…

“Call.”

The river came.

Ace of Hearts.

I tried not to react, but the inside of my head was screaming. Nut flush. Not just strong—undeniable.

“Check,” I said casually.

Tris hesitated for the first time. Then, trying to mask it, pushed out a towering stack. “All in.”
The girls gasped.

I didn’t blink. “Call.”

She flipped: Queen of Spades, Ten of Diamonds. Two pair. Good hand. Solid hand.

But not good enough.

I turned my cards. “Flush.”

The girls howled. Some clapped. Others laughed. Tris narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips, but then… she smiled. “Not bad, Nikki.”

We kept going. The game dragged on past midnight, the two of us trading chips and blows like prizefighters. I bluffed with Ace-high, folded pocket Eights when the board came King-King-Ten, and slow-played a set of Threes just to keep her guessing.

Tris tried every trick in the book—floating, check-raising, even a few donk bets to throw me off. But I held firm. I started reading her range, spotting patterns in her timing, her chip movement, her posture. She was good—but she was used to being the best.

Near the end, we were both down to under ten chips each. The girls had stopped commenting. It was dead quiet, tension thick as fog.
Final hand.

I was small blind, she was big.

I peeked: 9 of Clubs, 9 of Spades. Pocket pair. Nothing fancy, but strong short-stacked.

“All in,” I said immediately.

She looked at her cards, long and slow. “Call.”

She flipped: Ace of Diamonds, Queen of Spades.

A classic coin flip.

Flop: 2 of Hearts, 7 of Clubs, Queen of Hearts.

My heart dropped. She’d paired her Queen.

Turn: 9 of Diamonds.

The girls shrieked. Tris stared at the card, her mouth half-open in disbelief.

“Full house draw,” she muttered.

The river came.

4 of Spades.

Safe.

I won.

Barely.

Tris blinked slowly, then leaned back, exhaling in defeat. “Well played, Nikki."

I chuckled, finally letting myself breathe again. “It’s Counselor Nichole. Now, lights out.”

The girls climbed into their beds, content with the climax of their night. I changed into my pajamas and crawled into my bed near the door, holding back the fluttering in my chest. I put her in her place. This was my campground.

Interesting. Would be fun to see the younger girls also have to go commando once, before nikki loses on night 3

Your stories are always fun. Looking forward to what comes next.

MissAriel wrote: Sun Jul 27, 2025 4:24 pm Your stories are always fun. Looking forward to what comes next.

Thanks!

Is there a similar nearby boys' camp that could be involved in Nikki's ultimate humiliation?

A new Jastes story? Oh hell yeah! Will read soon.

Rise and shine, girls!”

Groans. Muffled swears directed towards me, the sun, and life in general.

“Up and at ’em! Big day ahead!”

“Someone tell her to pipe down…”

“Mmf.”

Tris sat up first, rubbing her eyes. “Morning, Nikki.”
I opened my mouth to correct her—Counselor Nichole, thank you—but bit it back. Not worth it. Not this early.
Getting the girls up was like trying to start a wet lawnmower. But eventually, they groaned their way into their clothes, and we shuffled toward the mess hall.

It smelled amazing—bacon, eggs, sausage, fresh toast. Rows of long wooden tables stretched out before us. One side full of girls. The other… boys?

I paused. I thought this was a girls-only camp. Maybe they shared the mess hall with a boys’ camp across the lake?

Whatever. I was too tired to process it.

I grabbed my tray and slid into the counselor table, my laminated “Visitor” badge twisting and lightly digging into my skin. As I sat down with my food, I reached down to adjust it flat against my chest. I wished it had my name on it so I didn’t feel like such an outsider.

“Nikki!” Dan scooted over, cheerful as always. “How’s Cabin 13 treating you? First night go okay?”

I thought about how close I came to losing my underwear privileges. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Awesome. Hey, something I forgot to mention last night…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wooden coin. “This is a Hazel Token. We use ’em to reward good behavior—or punish rule-breaking.”

I blinked. “So… like gold stars for big kids?”

He chuckled. “Exactly. The campers treat it like a game. Little prize at the end of the week for the winning cabin.”

I hesitated. The visitor badge had become tangled again. “Are you sure I should be giving these out? I'm only—”

“Counselor Dan,” a voice said smoothly behind me.

Tris.

“If Nikki isn’t comfortable with the Token system,” she said, “I’d be happy to manage it for Cabin 13.”

I sat up straighter. “Actually, I—”

“That’d be great, Tris,” Dan said. He turned to me. “She’s our oldest camper. Been here forever. She knows the system better than I do.”
Tris plucked the bag of Tokens from the table and walked off like it had always been hers.

I blinked. “She, uh… seems very proactive.”

Dan shrugged. “Her family’s one of our top donors. With her aging out soon, we’re hoping they stay involved. Keep her happy, you know?”

Oh, great. Another invisible responsibility.

“Honestly, they’re pretty self-sufficient,” Dan said. “Amy mostly just let them do their thing.”

He meant it as reassurance, but all I heard was, Good luck.

I nodded along, even as something cold settled beneath my ribs.

Dan stood. “One more thing. Sorry to drop it on you, but I need you to run roll call tomorrow morning. Just check each cabin and confirm everyone’s accounted for.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then stopped myself. “Sure. I can do that.”

“Appreciate it.” He clapped me on the shoulder and left.

I stared after him, trying not to let my smile slip.

“I’m counting on you,” he’d said.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle as I made my way back to Cabin 13, shoes sloshing through the mud. I opened the door and stepped inside.
“Late,” Tris said, not even looking up. “That’s a Token.”

I blinked. “Wha—”

She pointed to a colorful poster board hung on the far wall: HAZEL TOKEN COUNT, written in pink bubble letters.

Each camper’s name was listed in neat blue marker, with red numbers beside them.

My eyes drifted down. There, at the very bottom: “Nikki”—not “Nichole,” not even “Counselor”—just Nikki.
Beside it: a red 4.

Laughter bubbled from a bunk behind me as everyone watched me take in the board.

“Wait, what are the actual rules?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even.

Tris looked up from the chart, faux-innocent. “You’ll pick it up. Most people do.”

There was no handbook. No written system. Just colored coins, a poster board, and Tris's word against mine.
“I didn’t agree to—”

“Speaking without permission?” Tris said. “That’s another Token.”

“You don’t—”

“Insubordination. Another.”

The cabin was dead silent.

I stared at her, seething. This was ridiculous. She was just a camper. These were wooden coins, not legal tender.

But still.

It was just one Token. Not worth making a scene over. Besides, I’d earn it back soon enough. Right?

“Now apologize,” Tris said sweetly.

The words hit like a slap. Everyone was watching. No one dared to speak, but their eyes sparkled. This was a show now. And I was the headliner.
“I…” I gritted my teeth. “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Tris passed out Tokens to the other girls. “Everyone gets five. But Nikki’s already lost three…” She plucked three out of my palm and dropped them back into the bag. “Better be careful. You don't want to drop down to 0.”

She erased the red “4” and replaced it with a big, smug “2.”

A girl near the bunk mouthed the number to her friend. They both giggled.

The morning activities were a wet, chaotic mess. The ropes course was soaked—girls slipped and spun like wet noodles dangling from harnesses.

Archery was worse; arrows bounced off the slick targets like pool noodles.

I tried to step in a few times—correct a stance, direct a group—but every time Tris was already there, giving crisp instructions like she ran the place.

Which she practically did.

The other girls didn’t just follow Tris—they echoed her. Nods, inside jokes, copied phrases. One girl even waited until Tris nodded before stepping onto the ropes course. It was like being dropped into someone else’s weird summer cult. I supposed it made sense—they had all been together for 5 or 6 years—they were bound to be close.

Lunch was a soggy paper bag on the hiking trail. Dinner was hot dogs and s’mores around the indoor firepit.
We returned to the cabin soaked and tired.

The drizzle was steady now, not heavy but enough to soak through fabric fast. I pulled my jacket tighter and made a mental note to hang my clothes near the heater—if I could even find a dry spot. I hadn’t packed for a full week of wet socks and muddy trails.

“Alright, girls,” Tris called. “Shower time!”

She looked at me when she said it. Like a challenge.

I said nothing. I wasn’t going to pick another fight—especially not in front of the whole cabin.

I set my things down, grabbed my towel and hurried to the showers, determined to beat the crowd and claim the best stall.
The hot water was heaven. It poured down my back, soothing my muscles, my mind. I closed my eyes, letting it soak into my hair and skin.
For one brief moment, I forgot where I was.

Then I stepped out.

My clothes were gone.

My heart stopped.

No. That wasn’t possible.

I scanned the benches. Nothing. Not even my clothes.

I stood there dripping, cold air already curling around my wet body.

Someone… someone had taken them.

Someone had taken them, like in every stupid, cliche, camping story.

I shook my head. I was letting my imagination go wild. No one had taken them. In my haste to get to the shower, I forgot to grab my clothes and bring them.

I snatched the nearest white towel and wrapped it tight, then bolted across the muddy path toward the cabin.

I just needed to grab my clothes. Get back before anyone saw.

I opened the cabin door and—

Half the girls were already back.

Every eye turned to me.

“Oh—uh—forgot my stuff,” I said, laughing awkwardly. Some girls giggled, some even blushed. An embarrassing mistake, certainly, but something understandable. It would be forgotten about in five minutes.

I turned toward my bunk.

Something itched at the back of my mind, like I was missing something.

Outside my peripheral, someone stepped up beside me, curled their fingers at the hem of the towel, and pulled.
I shrieked and jumped back as my towel came undone, hands flying to cover my breasts and crotch as gasps and laughter rippled across the cabin.
“Nikki!” Tris barked. “Public indecency? That’s another Token!”

I ignored her, scrambled for my clothes, and bolted outside. My feet slipped in the mud as I sprinted back to the showers, heart hammering.

I dressed in silence, pulling on my khaki shorts with shaking hands.

I had one Token left. The fact pulsed in my head like a hammer.

When I returned, Tris was waiting with a smug smile—and my clipboard. Tufts what I had forlorn. My clipboard hadn’t been on my bed when I checked.

“You shouldn’t have left this behind,” she said sweetly. “Right out in the open. That’s another Token.”

My blood turned to ice.

Zero.

A gasp cut through the room. One girl whispered, “Oh my gosh.”

Tris’ eyes sparkled.

“I know you're new here, Nikki, so let me tell you what that means.”

I stared at her. My voice was barely a whisper.

“W-what?”

“A camper with zero Tokens is nothing,” she said. “Has nothing.”

She paused.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to get rid of those clothes.”


*If you have any suggestions/desires on where you'd like this story to go (funny, intense, lighter, darker, ideas for future parts or elements), let me know and I'll do my best to implement them. I have my outline, but I want to write something people will enjoy*

Love the story so far!! Your other stories, while I do enjoy them a lot, tend to go through a darker route, so I'd like to see this story be a bit lighter as a change of pace. Looking forward to the next part!!

jastes22 wrote: Tue Aug 05, 2025 1:42 am *If you have any suggestions/desires on where you'd like this story to go (funny, intense, lighter, darker, ideas for future parts or elements), let me know and I'll do my best to implement them. I have my outline, but I want to write something people will enjoy*

Something I always like is a mix of light and dark, where she goes through intense humiliation but it's clear there are no hard feelings and she's protected from any consequences.