This is a story. It never happened and never will. The General Disclaimer is incorporated herein by reference.

BR&T date: August 1955

"Please don't tell on me," Trisha begged, squirming and struggling in the tangle of lines that held her. She got to her knees, and began to crawl out backwards as a third Boy Scout arrived carrying a fishing pole.

"Why shouldn't we tell on you?" a boy demanded. "You completely ruined our snare. We can't catch any deer in it now!"

"I'll fix it," Trisha offered, lamely, as she stood up. She looked straight over at one boy's belt buckle. The other two weren't so tall, but they were all in their early teens, more than twice her age.

"Oh, sure!" the oldest one taunted her, "It took three weeks to get this snare finished. You don't know nothin' about makin' snares, so how would you fix it? It would take you all week just to get started." He winked at the other boys, and they winked back. They'd put the snare in place in ten minutes, and had plenty of extra fishing line.

The boys moved to surround the girl as she finished untangling from the lines. She tried to back away, but her only retreat was back to the snare. The third boy pushed close and backed her against a tree.

"We were going to catch a deer in it, then use that deer for our Tracking and Trailing merit badge, and you've completely ruined it for us. We won't get the badge now, thanks to you!"

Another boy seemed thoughtful, and said "Maybe we could track what the snare caught, and get the merit badge after all."

The oldest boy stepped up. "Hmm, that's an idea. We wouldn't tell on you if you'd let us use you for our tracking and trailing. Otherwise we're hauling you over to the camp counselor's cabin and you'll get in big trouble for ruining our snare."

"And for coming over here in the first place," added another boy.

"And for lying to us. And for getting mud on your shoes."

Trisha looked back and forth between the three boys, frightened. She wanted to avoid getting in trouble. "What do I have to do?" she asked, with a tremble in her voice.

"We'll take you to where the tracking and trailing starts, then you go off, and we try to follow you. When we catch up with you, we start over. That's all."

"Oh, okay," Trisha nodded. That didn't seem so bad to her. She wiped a tear off her lightly freckled cheek. She meekly followed when a boy led her away from the snare.

The four of them walked off through the woods, making an unusual sight, if anyone had been watching: three Boy Scouts surrounding a cute little six-year-old Brownie girl, all in full dress uniform. And one boy had a fishing pole, despite there being no fish near either camp.

They followed a long trail that wandered up hills and down, along a stream, over a rope bridge, and up and down more hills. Trisha knew she was getting further and further from her own cabin, further and further into the Boy Scout camp. In fact, they were more than halfway across it when she finally asked, nervously, "Where are we going?"

"To our campsite. That's where we'll start tracking from, each time. We have to track a wild animal for thirty minutes, six times, to get the badge. Since you ruined our snare, you'll have to be the wild animal."

Trisha fell silent, and with effort kept up with the rapid pace the experienced hikers set for her. Whenever she stumbled, they pushed her along from behind. Finally they came to a clearing in the trees, a wide grassy meadow with a stream. Across the clearing stood two green canvas tents.

Trisha stopped when the boy in front of her blocked her way. The boy behind her nudged her and said, "That's our campsite. That's where we're going. So get going."

Trisha began to step around the boy in her way, but he pushed her back and scolded, "No Brownies allowed in the Boy Scout camp, remember?" Trisha stopped, confused.

The boy behind her nudged her forward, more insistently. Again she took a step forward. The boy ahead of her put out a hand and stopped her, pushing her back and repeating "No Brownies. None. Are you deaf, or just trying to get into even more trouble?"

Trisha looked up at the boy blocking her way, his menacing glare an uncompromising obstacle. She looked back over her shoulder at the boy behind her, just as he shoved her forward again. Baffled, she tried the third boy. He only shrugged and said, "You look like a Brownie to me. After all, you're wearing a Brownie jacket."

Another shove forward, another shove back, and Trisha began to feel like a rag doll.

"I guess you'll have to take off the jacket. I don't see any other way," the bystander decided.

Trisha didn't see any other way either, and reluctantly pulled her official Brownie jacket open and down her arms. She folded it neatly, laid it across her arm, then stepped forward to go around the boy and over to the campsite. She didn't get a second step before she felt the shove and found herself back where she started. "What's wrong now?" the little girl cried.

"No Brownies!" the front boy declared.

"You're still carrying the jacket," the third boy explained. She dropped the jacket beside her. She tried to step forward but again felt the hand pushing her back. The two boys holding her in place snickered at her.

"Is that a Brownie emblem on your shorts?" her erstwhile advocate asked.

Trisha looked down, and saw what he meant. She had no way to get the emblem off her shorts, and even if she did, she wouldn't want to wreck them. A shove forward, a shove back. "What should I do? I can't take off my shorts!" she pleaded to the one boy who seemed to be nice to her.

"You can't get into the camp wearing Brownie shorts, and you can't go back or you'll get in a lot of trouble. Don't worry, we won't tell on you for taking off your shorts. Will we, guys?"

"No," the boy in front of her said.

"No, I guess not," the other agreed. "Not if she hurries up with it, anyway. We haven't got all day, and I'm getting impatient."

"I guess you better take them off," her advocate told her.

Timidly, very reluctantly, Trisha slipped her thumbs into the band of elastic around her waist. After a few more seconds of hesitation, she pushed down, and a chocolate-brown pair of official Brownie shorts landed loosely around her ankles. Her white blouse covered most, but not all, of a pair of light pink cotton panties. She lifted one foot, then the other, stepping out of her shorts, then bent to pick them up.

"No!" the boy before her insisted. "No Brownie stuff in our camp! How stupid are you, anyway?"

She turned to the boy she thought was her friend.

"I suppose you'll have to leave them," he shrugged.

She stood, and made as if to enter the campsite. Shove - shove - shove - shove! Trisha was really getting frustrated, and she bit her lip and turned a pleading look at the third boy.

"Well, what do you think?" he mocked her. "You should be able to see for yourself what kind of socks you have on, without my help."

Trisha hung her head, stung by the rebuke, and fearful of what she knew she had to do. She sat down in the grass, untied her muddy shoes, and slipped them off, followed by her wet brown socks with the official Brownie emblem sewn on the cute little garters. How she hated that emblem right now! She stood up, barefoot, and got almost one step into the meadow before she landed hard on her little pink panties. She cried out loud, and wiped her cheek, looking up at the merciless guardian of the campsite. "Now what!?" she whined.

"No Brownies!" was all she got from him.

She turned once more to the third boy. He stared back. She said nothing, just kept sitting there dazed, sniffling.

"I guess we'll just have to go tell on you, then," the boy behind her threatened, "unless you get going into the camp so we can get our tracking merit badge. We're tired of messing around!"

"No!" the frightened girl pleaded. "What is it??" she cried.

"Look at your sleeve. Sheesh!" the third boy suggested. "And feel your head," he added as an afterthought.

Trisha looked at the end of the sleeve on her white blouse. That dreaded Brownie emblem again! "Oh no, oh please, don't make me take off my blouse too, oh pleeeease, pleaaase?" Trisha heard two boys chuckle. Had she been listening carefully enough, she would have heard the third one nearly choke on his laughter as he turned his head to 'cough'. It seemed her pleading wasn't going to help her, so the tearful child stood and unbuttoned the blouse. She opened it up. She slid it down off her shoulders. The boys watched intently. She let it slide further down, around her elbows. She lowered her arms, and let her blouse drop to the grass behind her. This time, she knew better than to try to keep it. Just before trying to step forward again, she remembered the last hint, and pulled off the ever-so-cute Brownie beanie and sadly let it land on top of her jacket.

Trembling and ashamed, Trisha stood at the edge of an open meadow, clad only in a pair of light pink panties, surrounded by three (three?? had the other boy turned against her now? no! yes!!) staring smirking Boy Scouts. A shove from behind... Covering her tiny little nipples, which didn't really need covering anyway, Trisha stumbled awkwardly into the clearing, wading through the knee-high scruff toward the tents. As she reflected on her predicament, she remembered that she had to let the boys 'track' her and 'trail' her for thirty minutes! In her panties! And not just once, but six times! Trisha's tears threatened to leak out anew as she blushed in shameful apprehension. But she knew she had no choice: she either obeyed them, or she got in big trouble.

But little Trisha had no idea she was already in Big Trouble up to her little pink panty-line, and getting deeper with every step she took.