I was excited to be visiting Suzie at her summer camp, Camp Girltaur. It was supposed to be the most fun girl-camp there was, all for grown-up girls in their final teens who wanted to spend the summer multi-legged.
How she had come across the small ad, lost in the hundreds of summer-camp ads in the back of a coffee table travel magazine, I don’t know, but she had always wanted to be four-legged, since the time she had found pictures of four-legged girltaurs happily running side by side on their four beautiful legs, and now that Suzie was all grown up, her body beautiful, long and lithe, nothing would do until she could be sent there.
The girltaur camp had hiking and swimming and running and horseback riding and every sport imaginable, all specially adapted for doing four-legged, and the place was known for the camaraderie of its multi-legged campers as well as staff.
Suzie had written me about the place, sending emails daily from the computer class she was also taking there. She would always attach photos of her and her newly four-legged friends. They wore little shifts and togas, and her letters laughingly referred to her new freedom from underwear. I guess none of the kids needed it with their shifts and togas, and I guessed it was pointless anyway, what with their having so many legs.
They were cute kids, ranging into their late teens, all suntanned and blossoming with the weeks of outdoor living, plenty of good food and exercise, and sure enough, as the photos showed, they had plenty of legs.
I would have expected that the girls would be for the most part four-legged, and some were, but six legs was the norm, with a few eight- and ten-legged adventurers among them. The one thing they all had in common was their uncommonly pretty legs, models’ legs, really.
The girls were all pretty, of course, and obviously having a good time, laughing and mugging for the camera, posing like Rockettes with all the legs raised in a spectacular kick, even when some of the “leggier” girls had so many hindquarters that some were well out of arms’ length reach of each other. They made do with going barefoot, which I’m sure was part of the fun of being there, four-legged, footloose and fancy free, so to speak.
You could tell the staffers, who were obviously a little older, very athletic and in their early twenties, also barefoot and with attractive informal-looking olive uniforms, shifts for the women and sarongs for the men. Most of the staff were four-legged, with only a couple six-legged, at least from what I could see in the pictures.
But the girls were in it for the four-legged fun of it, and from the pictures in Suzie’s emails there was no lack of fun for them, their antics and frolic a daily riot of long, healthy, summer-tanned multiple legs at play.
So here I was, sitting in the waiting room of Camp Girltaur’s rustic lodge, looking at the large plastic-sheeted photo albums left out for guests, looking at page after page of pictures of laughing, long-multi-legged girls, their four legged gait captured in sequential photos, their campy frolics around the campfire captured with nighttime flash photos of them seeing who could sit cross-legged on the most pairs of legs, laughing and squirming with discomfort as their hindmost pairs of crossed legs bore the numbing weight beneath the middle and frontal multiple pairs of crossed legs and the torsos of the girls as they sat on their own towers of crossed legs.
The follow up photos showed the towers of legs tumbling, as the laughing girls had to relieve their squished hindmost pairs of legs of their crushing burdens - the fallen girls splayed their several pairs of legs in relief, as their friends and contest-mates rushed to their aid with gentle and enthusiastic leg, ankle and foot massages, especially for the hindmost pairs of legs.
“You’re here to see Suzie?” one of the handsome young male camp counselors asked, startling me from my photo-album reverie. I looked up to meet his friendly, welcoming smile. He was tanned and broad-shouldered, very handsome bare-chested in his olive sarong, which draped itself modestly among his four tanned legs.
“She’s adding legs in the mud baths. Care to see?”
I nodded my assent, rather at a loss for words; I rose and followed him along paths and wooden walkways to the camp’s famous transformational hot springs and mud baths, noticing that my eyes found themselves hard-pressed to stray from the intriguing sight of his relaxed, four-legged gait. His four bare feet planted themselves quite naturally in step among each other as the four legs gracefully carried his sarong-clad, tanned body forward; he moved like a graceful, athletic dancer, catlike in the smoothness of his four-legged walk, his hind legs and hips moving in subtle counterpoint to his front pair of legs. He was beautiful to watch.
He happened to glance behind him to see how I was following, immediately noticing my enchantment with his four legs, in spite of my effort to appear disinterested.
“It’s a little different, isn’t it?” he smiled, comforting my pang of embarassment.
“I’ll say,” I agreed, relieved.
“Wait’ll you see Suzie,” he said, gesturing to the path ahead.
It dawned on me that we had been hearing gentle echos of girlish laughter for a while now, too distant at first to register, but now becoming clearer as we came closer to the mudbath area, as the path and occasional wooden walkways wound among the trees and gentle hills of the rocky countryside.
Finally, there we were, and there she was!
“Suzie!” I heard myself scream, simultaneously in fear, in greeting, and in joy!
Suzie was romping around in the mud, laughing her maddeningly wonderful girlish laugh, mud all over her beautiful legs, all eight of them, and they slapped together as her eight beautiful glistening legs, light brown with mud, cavorted about. She had daubed the special mud on her breasts to give herself a mud-bra, and thanks to the mud’s properties, now she had six of the beautiful mud-glossy breasts bobbing up and down, slapping each other, as she galloped about, splashing the heavy mud with her eight muddy human feet. I was at once worried, glad to see her, and overjoyed at the beauty of my Suzie, even more so as she romped joyously six-breasted, on eight long and truly beautiful human legs!
Two of the handsome four-legged male camp employees were enjoying her play, as she romped between them, pretending to let them almost catch her, then playfully scrambling away on her eight long, mud-shiny legs. They were beautiful to watch as they worked together, her eight lovely girl’s legs so graceful in motion, even as the mud flew.
Each of the four-legged male counselors pretended to try to catch Suzie as she romped up to them on her eight legs, and as they tried to grab her, their own four legs almost tripping on each other in the mud, she would bolt away laughing in the opposite direction, her six beautiful mud-slick breasts heaving and bobbing on her slim torso as she laughed, head thrown back, powered away on her incredible team of eight shapely legs, so pretty even with the glossy mud glazing them.
My own four-legged guide turned to me and gave me a knowing, amused smile. “I’ve washed my four legs off more than once after trying to catch Suzie,” he said. “She can go at this for hours after adding legs. I think we’d need eight legs just to keep up with her.”
“Are her six breasts new?” I asked.
“The bottom two are,” my guide answered, his handsome gaze turned to her six bobbing breasts as she giggled and romped her eight legs back and forth in the mud between her two laughing four-legged male companions. “She added them today, with her newest hindquarters. The middle pair she added when she added her third pair of legs. She only had her two original breasts when she first became four-legged. It was quite a day for all of us when she discovered she could multiply her breasts by rubbing the mud all over them. Sort of like it was when she added her second pair of breasts and her third pair of legs, and today, now that she has six breasts and four pairs of legs. We will probably make Suzie our new poster girl,” he added, laughing.
The other girls we had heard laughing were largely spectators, standing in an attractive leggy group, their lovely legs muddied also. They were mostly four-legged and six-legged. They laughed and applauded as Suzie slipped and went down in the mud, her beautiful legs splaying everywhere. The two four-legged male camp counselors valiantly helped her up and, slipping several times, loaded her onto their backs. Suzie held the shoulders of one handsome four-legged counselor as he carried her along, her six mud-glazed breasts pressing pleasurably into his broad back muscles, his four-legged partner walking alongside him, carrying her four hindmost legs on his hindquarters as she rode more or less side-saddle, her eight incredibly beautiful legs lazily splayed and dangling from atop their hindquarters, glazing them with fresh mud as it oozed from her eight relaxing legs. The other multilegged girls cheered and applauded Suzie as a hero, running up around her as her entourage.
It was wonderful, but perhaps a bit much to take all at once; my guide noticed what must have been a look of fatigue crossing my face, and helped me onto his hindquarters, where I could ride him and hold onto his shoulders for the ride to the showers, where the girls, the four-legged counselors and Suzie would wash the thick mud off their multiple long legs, and off Suzie’s six beautiful breasts.
Suzie finally notice me and blew me a kiss, her six breasts jiggling as she waved girlishly at me. “I hope you can stay for the magic show after dinner!” she said.
“It should be fun,” my guide advised as he carried me along, as I enjoyed the pleasant dum-ta dum of his four-legged walk beneath me while I held his broad, muscled shoulders. “Last time, our magician ‘sawed’ Suzie’s hindquarters off, and we had pandemonium as we went running around catching them all to put her back together. It won’t be any easier now that she has eight legs!” he said, laughing at the prospect.