The 'camp counselor' who had assigned them the cabin had left probably.. what.. and hour ago? They look around, boredom slowly fading their tranced-out senses back to wakefulness. The cabin is boring. This could have been so much better. This was supposed to be, after all, their big moment of surrender. They were supposed to contemplate their loss of status, their helplessness, their utter subservience, slowly spiraling into a whirlpool of arousal. And nobody to see it beside these two other subs. Namely 'boring cishet man' grunting like an animal in his abandon, and 'plain business casual girl' with her eyes rolled up and face cramped, looking as if she's just faking the signs of trance. This isn't how they had imagined this. Not what Miss had promised them.

'You know what, I don't even want this anymore,' they huff, standing up from the chair and walking around the cabin. A typical summer camp cabin, plain walls with spiderwebs near the ceiling, worn beds, a water-stained sink in the corner. The stale scent of wet woodwork permeating everything. On the other side of the window, a bit off in the distance at the center of the camp, there's life. Counselors with their large nametags hanging in their necks, like at a job fair or tech conference. Subs being led. And they has been told to stay here. And spiral and break. Alone. Seriously. There are limits to everything, even if it is being brainwashed to be a human toy.

They walk to the sink, and gulp down a few handfuls of tap water. It tastes of iron and swimming pool. There was a coffee pavilion on the other side of the camp. Coffee would be really nice now. Maybe they won't get caught, after all nobody is around to notice them leave. And if they do get caught, they might get punished. That will probably be fun. It's a win-win scenario.

They take their credit card from their bag on the bed, tuck their collar under a scarf, and step to the door. 'Fuck this, I'm withdrawing consent.'

Outside the air is pleasantly chilly. Not many people around, and none paying them any mind. A cute, tall girl is lecturing a much shorter sub, gently holding her by the shoulders. They shudder a bit with arousal, but shake it off, and continue toward the cafeteria. There are ribbon fence corridors, like at an airport, leading through the camp grounds, marked with direction of travel. Subs need structure, that's what Miss always tells them. It feels strange, walking down one of them in explicit violation of orders. But come on, these people really need to step their brainwashing game up, it's their fault.

Nearing the camp's center, they encounter larger groups. Counselors chatting, while subs are kneeling or standing near, awaiting commands. Nobody seems to care about them, still. This might actually work. But then, a blonde, skinny, genderless counselor walking in the neighboring corridor turns to them.

'Hi there, where are you going?' The counselor is cute, with a mischievous glint in their eyes. A bit faerie-like.

'Oh, just getting a coffee. I really need one.'

'That sounds nice.. Say, where's your nametag?'

As they hesitate considering possible answers, they find themselves gently tackled by the counselor. A wiry arm wrapping around their neck, gently but firmly taking control of their body. Soft, fresh-smelling sweater on their face, they are held to a strong chest from behind, half cuddled, half subdued.

'Hey, I caught a runner,' the counselor calls aloud, and soon, they are surrounded by people. Some are very cute, not least the fae cutie who caught them. Soothed with trigger phrases and expert touches to nerve knots, they go limp and passive. It feels so safe and nice. Their world blurs into a whirlpool of sweet voices, gentle restraint, and soft, probing fingers. 'Mission accomplished, I guess..' they think as they relax and sink into the strong, wiry frame of their captor, smelling of freshly washed laundry.