Young Ms. Leadership Academy

Young Ms. Leadership Academy 2

By NAMB

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and/or sexual activity of preteen and young teen children. This is fantasy, and the author in no way endorses or practices these things on real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.
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In part 1 we met Emily’s mom as she signed her daughter up for the Young Ms. Leadership Academy. For the rest of the story we will share Emily’s experiences and feelings through her on-line diary.

Dear Diary,

What an unusual day. Well, it started off OK with school and all that, but after school, mom took me over to a psychiatrist’s office. She said not to worry and to just talk to the doctor and relax and be myself.

The doctor was Doctor Amy Amundsen. She seemed like a nice lady. I felt a little uncomfortable at first, but she had a way of talking that put me at ease. We talked mostly about me: about school, what subjects I liked, who my friends were, about what I like to do as hobbies, what kind of clothes I like and what kind of music I like. I was surprised that she knew some of the groups I listened to. Mom doesn’t even know that.

I was getting to like this woman and I sort of wished that she was my own age. She’s fun to be with and I think she’d fit in good with my friends and we could have a lot of fun on a sleepover together.

I felt like I was talking with Cindy. Cindy is more than my babysitter, she’s also a friend. We have the most interesting talks, especially about boys. She’s older than me and she knows a lot of neat things especially about boys.

I expected Dr. Amy to know a lot about boys too since she’s an adult, but adults think of boys differently than us girls do. Dr. Amy wasn’t like that. She’ more like Cindy. So when we talked about boys, I felt that I could tell her everything Cindy and I talked about with boys.

I even told her about the time Carolyn, a girl named Lisa Small and I tricked Johnny Metz and Billy Tate into making pee for us back in first grade. Mom doesn’t even know about that.

I wasn’t sure what this meeting was supposed to be all about, but it was nice to have an adult woman listen to me and take me seriously. Mom’s pretty good about that, but mom is, well – mom. She still thinks of me as her little girl and doesn’t understand how grown up I am.

The only one I can really tell my secrets to is Cindy, maybe Dr. Amy and of course, you Dear Diary.

-=o=-

Dear Diary,

Mom told me today that I would be going to a new school next year. Well, that’s not news, I’ll be graduating grade school and am on my way to Middle School. However, she told me that I wouldn’t be going to the same school where all my friends are going and that I would be going to the school that Cindy went to.

This wouldn’t be so bad if Cindy still went there, but she just graduated. I really made some good friends over the past couple of years and I don’t want to leave them.

Mom suggested I talk to Cindy about this when she sits for me tonight while our moms are at a meeting.

I talked with Cindy about this and she told me that the same thing happened to her, but that she made some new friends and even though they are all going their separate ways, she knows she’ll keep in touch with them forever.

Cindy told me that I would really like the new school and that it was made for girls “just like me.”

I respect Cindy’s opinion a lot, but I’m still uneasy about this.

Cindy also told me that she’s going to miss going to camp this year. I asked her about what camp was all about but all that she told me was that it was a great place to meet girls I’d be going to school with and that we’d do a lot of fun things.

When I asked for more information, she told me that she didn’t want to spoil the fun for me by telling me everything.

-=o=-

Dear Diary,

I’m still concerned about camp. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy myself at previous camps: first day camps, then overnight camps and last year, a camp where we were away for a full two weeks.

I made a lot of good friends and I learned a lot from some of the other girls, especially about boys. Some girls apparently have brothers and some others have not led as sheltered a life as I did. Mom’s been good at explaining the birds and the bees to me, but some of these girls claim to have seen and done things “for real.”

I hear from my friends how pesky brothers can be, but I wish I had one so I could see what boys looked like for real instead of in pictures like the book mom gave me or the ones Cindy showed me.

But really. I’m almost 13 now. I’m going into Middle School and I’m not a child anymore. Carolyn and Becky and I have plans for the summer.

I like Carolyn. She started her period sooner than the rest of us girls and she has bigger breasts. All the boys look at her. I figure if I hang out with her, then the boys would look at me too. She’s thinking about getting a new top to show off what she has. Mom would never let me get away with that.

That’s why going to camp this year sucks. Summertime is the best time for a girl to show off what’s she’s got. By the time I get back Carolyn and Becky and the other girls will probably have all the good boys taken up.

I’ll have to talk mom out of this.

-=o=-

Dear Diary,

OH-MY-GOD! It’s worth saying again, OH-MY-GOD! Was I ever wrong about camp. This is no ordinary camp.

First mom showed me the big brochure. It looks like a nice place: it has a lake and a private beach and volleyball courts and a tennis court. There’s an archery range, a stage to put on performances, a huge covered eating area and an indoor rec hall. The cabins look very nice too.

But I’ve been there, done that last year. Camp is for kids. This was the point where I was trying to figure out how to tell mom to shove it. And then she showed me the other booklets.

Boys, dear Diary, BOYS! I mean naked boys and teenaged boys at that! They were really cute and so well developed. I mean not just there, but all over. They must work out a lot: no skinny, pimply little boys or tub o’ lards. These boys had nice bodies: every bit of them. More about the boys in a moment.

I read the materials. The main brochure showed the usual things kids do at camp and some of it sounded a little daunting: physical fitness, regimented activities and leadership training.

There’s no cell coverage at the camp and besides phones aren’t allowed and even internet access on the computers in the cabins is limited to specific hours of the day.

There was even a rank system. Freshman girls (that’s me) wear yellow T-shirts with a single female symbol over the heart. Junior girls have light blue T-shirts with two interlocking female symbols and Senior girls have pink T-shirts with three female symbols in a triangular arrangement representing sisterhood.

It sounds a bit too much like boot camp.

Mom assures me that the junior and senior girls are more like mentors than drill sergeants. I hope she’s right, but to see naked boys like this for real, I’d climb over obstacles and crawl under barbed wire.

Apparently, the boys are a part of our “advanced feminist training” as the pamphlet explains. I just skimmed it so far. I haven’t read it all, but it seems so exciting.

There’s one picture in there that I really like it shows a line of naked boys with their feet apart and their hands on their heads. Facing them is a line of yellow-shirt freshman and a couple of blue-shirts that seem to be in charge of the show. In the background are some pink-shirts watching and apparently supervising. That picture really says, “Girl Power” with a capital G and P. There’s no doubt that girls control everything at the camp.

I kept looking at the picture. These were girls just like me. I imagined myself sitting among them. Then it hit me: in a couple of weeks, I will be sitting with them with real, live naked boys right in front of me. My stomach did a couple of back flips.

That’s not all. The text talks about a whole lot of other things that the girls do with the boys. I’m really excited about going to camp this year!

The only bad thing about this is that mom is keeping the pamphlet in the house. She says that only the camper and the camper’s parents are allowed to see it. Something about a contract she had to sign. She says I can tell Carolyn and Becky about it but only because she’s “cleared” it with their moms and that the three of us girls have to keep it a secret.

I would have told them anyway. I can’t keep this a secret from my best friends.

-=o=-

Dear Diary,

I told Carolyn and Becky about camp. They said they wouldn’t believe me but their moms told them I was going. They are soooo jealous. We made a swear not to tell anybody. Not that any of the other girls would believe us anyway.

I’d really wish they could come along with me, but mom says the camp is “by invitation only” whatever that means. I remember taking a bunch of special tests a couple of months back that had some funny questions about how I felt about things and talking to Dr. Amy

Mom’s a member of this group of women along with Cindy’s mom and I think one of them suggested to her that I take these tests. I don’t think Carolyn’s or Becky’s moms belong to the group.

Of course, they want me to tell them all about it when I get back, but if I can’t take my phone, I won’t be able to take any pictures. I hope I have time to record everything with you, Dear Diary. They say we’ll have access to computers.

I wish I could show them the pictures in the book, but mom’s keeping that for herself. I kind of wish I could have it at least at night in my room to look at. It makes me excited to think about the pictures.

-=o=-

Dear Diary,

I had my physical today. I need one so can go to camp. I went to a new doctor, Dr. Angela Spadifino. She’s a gynecologist. It’s the first time I’ve ever been to a doctor that specializes in women’s health. I was getting too old to go to a pediatrician anyway.

Mom said that the people at the camp recommended the doctor. She’s really nice but that didn’t make the exam any easier to take. I felt very vulnerable wearing that stupid gown, exposed from the waist down, with my feet up in the stirrups and legs spread apart. Then she spread my lips with something called a speculum. Ewe. It didn’t hurt, but it was very embarrassing to be so open and exposed even in front of the doctor and my mom and the nurse. I’m glad the doctor is a woman. I heard some gynecologists are men. I’d never let a man see me like this.

In addition to some medical jargon about the condition of my private parts, the doctor mentioned something to the nurse who was taking notes about tears in my hymen. Apparently, this was some concern to my mother because the doctor felt like she had to explain something to her.

“Don’t worry about it Ms. Anderson. I see this in girls all the time. It’s perfectly normal. Back in the dark ages there was a myth about an intact hymen being the infallible sign of virginity. That’s no longer true.

Today’s girls are not the same as girls of previous generations. They don’t sit around playing with dolls and having tea parties. I can tell by the rest of your daughter’s physical condition that she’s a very active girl. This is literally ‘normal wear and tear’ and nothing to be concerned about.”

I didn’t tell mom or the doctor about my “experiments” down there. Apparently the doctor didn’t notice either, or if she did, she choose to ignore it.

I was given a clean bill of health. In spite of the embarrassing moments, I liked being examined by Dr. Spadifino. I was examined by a real gynecologist just like a real woman! It makes me feel so grown up.

(End of File)