The Emperor Has No Clothes

The Emperor Has No Clothes

Virtual Scott

The Emperor Has No Clothes

"Jeni, you bitch! I hate you!" Grace bounced up off the chaise and into the shade provided by the cabana, but the damage was already done. Judging by the position of the sun, she'd dozed long enough it might not have mattered anyway, but somebody had folded the umbrella between the lounge chairs.

The "somebody" in question rolled onto her side and looked up at Grace. "Chill out, girl," Jeni suggested. "It's not like a little tan is going to kill you or anything." It was obvious she was trying not to laugh. The brunette adjusted the strap of her racerback swimsuit and rolled over again, determined not to waste a minute of their break.

"Easy for you to say," muttered Grace. Jeni obviously had a lot of Mediterranean ancestry, with dark hair cut short for convenience and an olive-toned complexion that never seemed to change, no matter how long she stayed out. It was annoying.

Grace's ancestors hailed from more northern climes. She was blessed with gorgeous auburn hair that she wouldn't have traded for anything, but her skin tanned easily. Not burned, thankfully, but tanned -- a golden brown, as the cookbooks put it.

"I don't understand why you have a problem, anyway," offered Jeni, not quite missing the point. "You look so hot, and you know it!"

"Oh, but in my workout clothes," Grace sighed, already visualizing the damage. She always had problems with so-called farmer's tans, where the unsightly change of color at hems and sleeves ruined whatever effect the tan might have produced. "I'll look like a freak!"

Jeni gave up on pretending not to be amused and laughed. "Oh come on, Grace. You are not a freak. I bet nobody will even notice. Besides, this is swim camp, not Fashion Week."

Grudgingly, Grace admitted to herself the brunette probably had a point. The Parker Training Academy, misnamed as it was, had nothing to do with fashion and everything to do with fitness. It was the second summer she'd attended, and Grace was as enthusiastic about it as she'd been doubtful the previous year.

Parker College wasn't a very exciting or visible institution. Located away from any major cities or interesting attractions, it had managed to avoid "Commuity" in its name, while attracting students who couldn't afford to travel out of the area and attend more prestigious schools.

Grace was determined to leave waitressing and farming behind her, and the relatively low tuition rates made the student loans a gamble worth taking. So far, things were working out, better than she'd hoped.

Swimming hadn't been on her radar, but it turned out that the Parker swim team was a big fish in a small pond. They were small in number, few enough to welcome walk-ons (including an intrigued Grace), but ferocious competitors. Nobody deluded themselves into thinking they were Olympic-caliber athletes, but the coaches had an amazing talent for getting every last bit of native ability out of their swimmers and divers.

In large part, apparently, the secret was the Parker Training Academy, colloquially known as "swim camp." It looked like just another rustic summer camp stuck in the middle of nowhere, but it boasted an Olympic size pool and diving platforms. For a month each summer the coaches, swim team, and other attendees secluded themselves there and worked like dogs.

Grace had been sure she was going to die the first summer. The days were long, and filled entirely with swimming and conditioning work (as if hours of swimming by itself somehow wouldn't be enough). The absence of any local cell towers virtually eliminated electronic distractions. Coach Rod and his assistants had a rotating series of visiting coaches lined up to provide diverse points of view and constructive assistance, and Grace was sure -- she'd counted -- there were more coaches than swimmers.

Not only had she survived, that month had transformed Grace into one of the better swimmers on the team. She'd won several events in subsequent meets, but mostly it was her improved physical fitness that impressed Grace. She felt it when she bounced out of bed, felt it when she still had energy at the end of the day, and felt it when men's eyes followed her across campus.

So Grace had kept swimming, even in the frozen depths of winter, and her name had been first on Coach Rod's signup list that spring. Armed with an idea of what to expect and better conditioning, it had been a joy and Grace wasn't looking forward to going back to school.

The best part was that it didn't even cost anything, since she was on the swim team. How Parker College could afford to put on the camp was an open question, although there were rumors that other attendees paid enough to more than offset the costs. The once Grace had raised the subject with Jeni -- one of the paid swimmers -- there'd been some vague mention of a sponsorship or scholarship or something, and they'd let the subject drop.

Now it was nearly the end of summer, and Grace would have to spend the next few weeks looking like a zebra or something. The camp didn't spend a lot on uniforms, and the white T-shirts and navy shorts ran slightly on the large side, meaning there was no way the tan lines on Grace's arms and thighs wouldn't show in anything she wore.

"Well, come on," Grace snapped, trying to fight off her sulk. "I don't want to do extra push-ups if we're late, and you still have to change." She'd changed before lunch, but Jeni had put off switching out of her suit so she could catch some rays.

The two women left the relatively secluded side of the cabana and walked towards the oversized "log cabin" that housed the locker rooms and workout equipment. They were surrounded by the bustle of the others also headed to their afternoon training sessions; there were the familiar faces of the other students, coaches with the same utilitarian outfits but the largely-symbolic heavy whistles on lanyards, and the current rotation of visiting guest coaches.

Grace had given up trying to understand where Coach Rod found the guest trainers. Most of them didn't look like coaches, even if they wore the same shorts and T-shirts, and many of them didn't act much like coaches, either. But there was no question they were dedicated to helping the camp participants excel, and they always left Grace breathless at the end of a workout.

Jeni stopped in front of her locker and started to pull off her suit, but Grace walked to the mirror behind the sinks and stared at her reflection. She looked good, hair pulled up in a casual bun, her arms and legs tanned and toned. Cautiously, Grace tugged at a sleeve, looking to see how abrupt the transition from tanned to pale skin was. Her arm remained the same golden tan.

Perhaps her sleeve had been shoved further up than she remembered? The redhead pulled up one leg of her shorts, revealing an expanse of evenly tanned thigh. It was ridiculous! She was clearly darker than yesterday, and Grace knew that even she didn't tan through clothing!

As if her frustration had been a trigger, Grace felt suddenly lightheaded and her vision swam momentarily. Even as she blinked rapidly, her clothing shimmered and faded away like a desert mirage. Grace gulped at the sight of herself standing totally naked and evenly bronzed from head to toe!

"Oh My God!" Grace screamed, turning to look for Jeni.

"What?" the brunette asked, walking over to join her friend. "Have you decided if you'll survive yet?"

Grace gasped, "I can't--" and stuttered to a halt.

Jeni wasn't wearing anything either, although she wasn't showing any signs of it bothering her. Her full breasts bobbed slightly as she ran her fingers quickly through her hair. "Come on -- aren't you the one who said you didn't want to be late?" She turned towards the exercise room.

It was impossible to understand how it could be happening, but Grace wasn't entirely sure this wasn't some elaborate prank Jeni was playing. "Just a minute; I need to, um..." She couldn't say, "get some clothes because mine have disappeared." It was almost tempting to see how far Jeni would go, but Grace would die if somebody else -- especially one of the boys -- walked in on them.

She hurried back to her locker and rapidly spun the combination lock. Grace opened the door and found her swim goggles and skullcap, but the swimsuit she'd put there just before lunch was missing. Two could play at that game, she decided, happy she knew Jeni's combination.

The faint smile Grace was wearing slipped when Jeni's locker turned out to be equally devoid of clothing or swimwear. Jeni had walked in with her suit on five minutes ago, and there was nowhere she could have hidden it! What was going on?

"Grace!" The redhead jumped at Jeni's shout. "Come on, already! It's just a fucking tan line -- get over it!"

With a gulp, Grace slammed the locker closed and headed for the door. She didn't understand what was happening, but Jeni would have to spill the beans or else...

The brunette, however, seemed poised to head right out for their session, which was a pretty ballsy move in Grace's opinion. The redhead started to cringe away from the door when Jeni pushed it open, but stopped in stupification at the sights she glimpsed through the opening.

Grace stumbled when Jeni caught her wrist and pulled, and was too dazed to resist before she was out of the locker room. She looked around in shock, eyes wide.

Everyone was naked! Well, there were a few of the visiting trainers in the bleachers across from the small indoor pool with clothes on, but everybody else was as naked as herself. Grace stumbled on the edge of a floor mat, but kept walking as if she were in a trance, and felt her face heat. Not only was she surrounded by casual nudity, but all of the men were rigidly erect. Grace wasn't a prude or a virgin, but she'd just seen more cock in 20 seconds than in the 20 years before that.

Luckily, nobody seemed to be paying much attention to them -- at least until they reached the beginning of their exercise circuit. Coach Evan speared them both with a look. "Lemaire, Cartright -- you're late! Give me 50 squat-thrusts and then get in your circuit!" His tone and expression were exactly normal, but the heavy whistle on its lanyard looked incongruous above the heavy cock projecting from his hairless groin.

Grace hesitated a moment as Jeni dropped into her first squat and then complied, trying to position herself so she wasn't directly facing anybody. It felt bizarre, but at least her breasts weren't as large as Jeni's.

"See?" puffed the brunette, her breasts bouncing, "I told you nobody would notice."

The redhead declined to answer, choosing instead to study her surroundings. The activities she'd always dismissed as routine now took on unsettling and perverse meaning. The girl on the outer thigh apparatus strained, her legs spread far apart, as the trainer with her urged her to push wider, his eyes glued to her crotch.

One of her male classmates crouched on the rowing machine, pushing the rolling platform beneath him back and forth. Each backward stroke impaled his glistening anus on the cock of the trainer counting time behind him.

Grace looked away, only to catch sight of Bethany, one of the divers, standing on the yoga mats. Beth quivered, holding form with her arms stretched above her, while the hands of the woman beside her teased and stroked her body into position, lingering on her breasts and between her legs.

Closer to hand, Trish lay back on a weight bench, seemingly unaware of the way Adam's penis nearly brushed her face as he checked the weights on the bar, or the lustful stare of the trainer who was leaning forward to study the swell of her breasts at close range. A large drop of precum leaked from the tip of his cock to her thigh, unnoticed by either of them.

Beyond unnerved, Grace realized she was alone; Jeni was doing arm curls. The redhead looked longingly in the direction of the locker room, but several of the trainers were watching her and the last thing she wanted at this point was to be alone with them. She started her strength circuit, trying to vary her usual routine in ways that minimized her exposure, and did her best to ignore the lecherous stares of the onlookers.

Despite her shaky nerves, the exercise soothed Grace as it usually did, and there was the usual light conversation with the other students -- when they were using equipment behind her and Grace couldn't see them, it was easy to pretend everything was normal.

Well, except when Jillian boasted about her tattoo that nobody except her boyfriend was ever going to see.The small rose centered on her bare mons was clearly visible, even through the load of semen covering it. Grace had the presence of mind to say nothing, even as her friends made fanciful guesses about what it might be.

The heavy grunting from the weight bench gave Grace an excuse to not look at the heavy-set man who was fisting himself and clearly waiting for her to get off the upper arm apparatus. He'd just suggested she work on her core flexibility, and bending over in front of him was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment.

Jeni was on the bench, but she wasn't the person making the noise. Grace's friend lay on her back, spread-eagled, a look of concentration on her face as her hands worked the cocks of two trainers standing to either side of her. Grace had seen that look any number of times, when Jeni was working on many quick repetitions of light lifts. In fact, that was one of the exercises in Grace's routine too, a fact that didn't bear thinking about.

The noise was coming from the third trainer, the one who was fucking Jeni with wild abandon. He huffed and puffed with exertion, but not so loudly Grace couldn't hear the liquid sounds of his cock churning in the brunette's wet cunt. One of the men getting a handjob suddenly sucked in his breath, and an instant later both of them were spilling their spunk on Jeni's face and tits.

She made no reaction except to blow out her breath and stretch her arms to the side, but the trainer fucking her increased his speed and then thrust solidly into her hard enough to make the bench tremble. He gasped and then withdrew, jism trailing from his cock, and jacked a few last globs onto her tummy. "Good job, Jeni," he sighed, eliciting a smile of satisfaction from the girl.

Sudden drops of moist warmth spattered the small of Grace's back and she suddenly turned around, just in time to get a last spurt of semen across her arm and the side of a breast. The trainer behind Grace looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"Um..." She could see the suspicion growing in his mind. "Did you say something?" Grace fought to ignore the disgusting feel of his sperm leaking down her breast and ass. She stood up to face him and arched her back, emphasizing the curve of her breasts.

"You should work on flexibility," the man grunted. "And watch your intensity," he added. "You slowed down a lot on that last set."

"Sorry, Coach," Grace apologized. "Just a little tired today, I guess." For good measure, she turned around and gave him an eyeful as she bent over to retrieve her hand towel from the floor and reflexively wiped down the seat of the machine. The towel blurred out of existence, leaving the palm of her hand wet; the coed realized she'd been leaking more than just sweat.

Jeni bounded over, breaking Grace's train of thought. "A new personal best! Do my arms look better to you?" The brunette curled one arm, offering the muscle for inspection, and absentmindedly wiped a string of sticky fluid from her forehead with the other.

"Wow," Grace replied, glad to see her trainer finally turn and walk away. "You really killed it today, Jeni."

"I know! I think I just got in the groove. Sometimes it feels like it's even better than sex!" Jeni laughed at her own joke, not really paying attention to Grace's wan smile. "I bet I beat you in laps today, too!"

"Not happening," Grace retorted without even thinking. "Come on; let's shower." She was desperate to wash the semen off her body, and Jeni looked just unspeakable.

Still, it was hard not to watch the rolling asses of the others ahead of her as they walked quickly towards the locker rooms. Grace was firmly of the hetero persuasion, but there was something about those displayed crevices that kept tugging at her eyes. Resolutely she pulled her focus away and turned to look at Jeni, who was smearing semen all over her body as they walked. "God! What are you doing?"

Jeni looked confused. "What? Towelling off? I can't help it if I sweated a lot today." A trace of concern colored her expression. "I don't stink, do I? That guy on the weight bench was so cute -- I don't want him to think I'm a pig or anything!"

Grace couldn't help giggling. "You do not smell! Or at least, not any more than the rest of us." It wasn't until she held open the door for her friend that Grace realized her hands were sticky; a quick self-appraisal revealed she'd unconsciously redistributed the coach's load evenly across her buns, tummy and breasts. "Oh, fuck!"

The redhead made a beeline for the shower stalls, ignoring Jeni's quizzical expression. Relieved of the necessity to remove any clothing, she quickly was under the spray, scrubbing herself clean extra vigorously. Grace's hand shied away from the nub between her legs, which felt -- not aroused, exactly, but... awake.

Grace didn't quite know what to do while she stood in front of her nearly-empty locker and watched Jeni go through the motions of pulling on a non-existent swimsuit. It would have been ridiculous if every other girl in the room hadn't been doing exactly the same thing. She finally pulled on her skullcap and began tucking errant locks under it, all the while wondering if she had lost her mind or if even the cap was part of her imagination.

"Come on, ladies! Save the socializing for later!" Coach Joan strolled through the locker room, urging the swimmers towards the exit. She was nude too, the glint of her whistle barely visible from where it nestled between swollen mammaries capped by erect nipples.

There'd always been rumors, based more on stereotypical humor than any actual facts, that Coach Joan was a dyke. Certainly there was no sign the woman realized that she, and everybody else, was naked. But the redhead knew it, and the way the coach's eyes slid across the trim bodies before her gave Grace chills.

A half-formed plan to beg off the rest of the afternoon due to illness fizzled as quickly as Grace's clothing had. She abruptly snatched her goggles from the now-empty locker and joined the stream of bodies heading for the pool, trusting for safety in numbers.

Of course, it meant they were rejoining the boys. Their swimsuits had never looked as large to Grace as they did now that they were gone, exposing hairless sacks and erect organs to her sidelong glances.

Grace gulped and jumped quickly into her usual lane, rinsing her goggles before pulling them into position. They didn't change the view, but it let her get started on her laps. After the first length, she settled into her rhythm and was able to push away the real world and just focus on the flex of her muscles and the mechanics of her breathing. It was easy to forget she was skinnydipping.

She swam right into the obstruction before she realized it was there. "Oh!" Grace panted, her face flaming at the realization the object she'd rammed was a he rather than an it. "I'm so sorry -- I didn't see you!" Just to make things worse, it was Wade Ferrari, the handsomest, dreamiest, most attractive stud on the swim team.

"Obviously," the boy grinned, making her want to kick herself for saying something so lame. "Coach has been trying to get your attention for a lap and half -- we're done for the day!"