Camp Stories #1

Make up your mind whether or not it happened (a lot of postings will be like this one):

I went to Summer camp when I was twelve. I was a skinny little guy, smaller than most of my classmates. I was tow-headed and wore glasses, too, so I got picked on a lot at school. I was asigned to the "Apache" cabin (all of the cabins were Indian names). I quickly made friends with Johnny.

Johnny was stockier than me (I probably weighed about 90 pounds) and a year older. He was stocky, not in a way that you would call fat, but losing his plump boyish shape for a stocky, athletic one. I remember that he had a big, meaty butt. It wasn't fat, exactly, but it sure filled out his jeans pretty good. We hung out the whole time we were at camp.

Because Johnny was older, he knew a lot of things that I didn't. He also talked me into things that got us both in trouble. Like this one time, afetr we had had archery, and actually got to shoot real bows and arrows, when we had a couple of hours to kill, we hooked up with two boys from the Sioux cabin. One of them, Greg, had a pint of vodka, that we all took gulps of, until it was empty. It burnt like fire, and I had a hard time keeping it down. I got kind of woozy.

Then, the other boy, Ian, produced a joint. I had only smoked weed once, with a few friends, and I had gotten pretty silly on it, so I really didn't want to, but I did it anyway. I got really wasted, and I couldn't stop laughing. Johnny got concerned and guided me back to the cabin. Nobody was there, that time of day, so we thought we were safe. Everything was okay until I let the screen door slam and tripped over a camp stool and went sprawling, laughing all the time.

To our chagrin, our counselor, a tall ginger-haired boy named Rick, came charging out of his room at the back of the cabin. He looked down at me, lying on the floor, giggling.

"What are you two doing back here?" He demanded. "And what the hell is wrong with you, Carl?"

I got to my feet, still giggly, and tried to look him in the face. I couldn't, without laughing.

"What's so funny?" Rick asked me, gripping my shoulder and pulling me close to him. "You're wasted!" He said. "I can't believe you two got wasted. Do you know how much trouble I could get into?" Suddenly, I didn't feel like laughing any more.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Really. I mean it."

"Well, I could turn you both in to the Head, but youl'd both get booted out of camp. You want to get booted out of camp."

"No."

"No, Rick," I pleaded. I knew what would happen to me if I got booted out of camp. "We won't tell."

"Well," he looked down at both of us. I felt a chil run up my back. "I can't just let you two get away with this, can I?"

"I guess not ..." I ventured.

"Uh, why not?" Johnny ventured, but a stern look from Rick set him silent.

"So," Rick mused. "What do you suppose I do with you two?"

"Um, nothing?" Johnny tried.

"Uh, we could do stuff, like clean up?" I offered. Ricks look withered me.

"Nope," he said. "I think I have to give you two brats something to remember the next time you decide to do something stupid. Wait here." He indicated my bunk, and we both sat down. We wouldn't be sitting so comfortably, later.

Rick walked back into his little room. We heard him rummaging around. Finally, he emerged with two items in his hands: a collapsible camp stool and a wooden hairbrush, about an inch thick, and as broad as my hands. He set the stool in the middle of the floor, and sat down on it.

"Okay," he said, slapping his palm with the brush, meaningfully. "It's either the Head or my punishment. Which is it going to be?"

"Uh, yours," I said without hesitation.

"Wh ... what are you going to do to us?" Johnny asked, timidly.

"I'm going to give you both a good spanking. After that, we're cool. I won't say anything. Only, you both have to agree."

"Okay," I said. and gave Johnny a look. I had the feeling that he had never been spanked before.I had, plenty of times.

"Uh, me too," he finally said, in a little voice.

"Okay," Rick said. "So which one of you little shits gets it first? Choose, or I get to." I looked at Johnny and he looked at me. We didn't say a thing.

"Right," Rick said. "You're first, fat ass!" I thought this was mean, because Johnny
did kind of had a fat ass. Rick patted his thigh, meaningfully. With a resigned look on his face, Johnny shuffled over to the middle of the floor.

Rick pulled Johnny roughly across his lap, so Johnny's feet left the floor. Johnny gasped, as Rick pulled his plump little butt into spanking position.

"W...wait...."Johnny started, but he was interrupted by the loud thwack of the brush on the seat of his jeans. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! went the brush, and Johnny started squirming. I felt a funny tingle between my legs and realised that my pee-pee was getting hard. I shifted my legs a bit.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! went the brush, and Johnny's face got red and he started to moan.

"Please ... please!" went Johnny. Thwack! Thwack! went the brush. After a whole bunch of whacks, Rick let him up. Johnny rubbed his behind, grimacing. He started to walk away, but Rick caught his arm.

"Where are you going?" he said, with a sneer. "We're not through yet! Get those jeans down!"

"Huh?" Johnny said. A look at Rick's face told him that our counselor wasn't joking. He returned to where he was standing, unzipped his jeans, and pushed them down to his ankles. Rick grabbed his arm, roughly, and pulled him over his lap. He grabbed the waistband of Johnny's tighty-whities and pulled them up so far that Johnny's ample butt-cheeks peeked out from underneath.

"Wait ..." Johnny wailed. The wooden hairbrush found its mark on the already pink flesh peeking out from the leg-holes of his briefs. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Johnny was really squirming now, writhing, but Rick held him tight.

"Owoooooooo! Pleeeeze!" Came from Johnny. His answer was a vigorous cascade of smacks, until the tops of his legs and botom-cheeks were bright red.Johnny was crying by now.

My pee-pee was hard as a twelve year-old pee-pee gets. I knew what I was going to get. Watching Johnny get his was a turn-on! I was literally squirming, awaiting my turn. Finally, Rick let Johnny up. Johnny pulled his jeans up, gingerly, over his well-welted bottom. There were tears coming down his face.

"You, sit right there!" Rick ordered, and Johnny sat next to me, whimpering a bit as his sore butt touched the mattress. "Now, you!"

I got up from the bed and walked over to where Rick sat, hairbrush in hand. I stood there for a moment. My pee-pee was straining in my jeans. I felt tingly all over.

"I know who was really behind all this, Carl," he said.

"Not me, honest!" I offered.

"Then who else?" I thought for a minute. Johnny had already been spanked, and I was next. If I told on the other two boys, then they would get, at least, spankings, and, at most, sent home from camp.

"It was all my fault," I said. "It was my vodka and my weed. I'm sorry I got Johnny into this."

"That's very grown-up of you," Rick said. "But it won't excuse you a spanking. Bend over!"

I did as I was told. He pulled me across his lap until my feet left the floor and my skinny little bottom was high in the air. I knew what came next.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The hairbrush stung like fire! I wriggled my little butt around, trying in vain to escape its wrath, but to no avail. It really hurt, even through my jeans! Not only that, but my pee-pee was rubbing all around in my jeans and getting harder and harder!

"Owww ..." I said, as it started to really sting. "OWWWWW!"

After about a million whacks, Rick told me to stand up. I knew what was coming next, but I really didn't want to pull my jeans down. I had had a problem for awhile, being young and, well, starting to feel horny. That morning, I had put a jock strap on, to keep my cock from showing in my jeans, and I still had it on. I really didn't want Rick to see it, particularly in front of Johnny.

"Please, Rick," I almost whispered. "Can we do this in your room?"

"Nope," Rick said. "You get the same he did, only worse, because you were the instigator."

"But I told you the truth!" I said, rubbing the seat of my jeans. "C'mon ..."

"Pull them down!" Rick commanded. My hands shaking, I unbuttoned my jeans, bent over and pushed them down to my ankles. There I was, standing there in front of Rick and Johnny, in a lightweight jock strap, with a throbbing twelve year-old boner in it!

"Jock strap?" Rick laughed. "You are a kinky little bitch!" Then he pulled me across his lap again. I tensed my bottom, anticipating what was to come.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! went the wooden hairbrush on my already sore bare behind. It stung like fire and I twisted and writhed, but every whack hurt more than the last one.

"Please! Please!" I cried. I couldn't stand it! But Rick kept the punishment coming. I looked over at Johnny. His eyes were wide.

Thwack! Thwack! went the hairbrush.

"Ow! Owoooooo!" went Carl. My bottom was on fire! It was sizzling! And every whack of the hairbrush seemed to hit the tenderest spots on my skinny little butt! My pee-pee, trapped in my jock strap, rubbing against Rick's muscular leg, was tingling like crazy! I moaned and writhed and kicked my legs and begged for mercy, but none came. Finally, all I could do was just lie there across Rick's lap, bawling like a six year-old, while my poor bottom felt like it would burst into flame."Owwwwooooo! Pleeeeze!" I wailed.

Finally, after what seemed a year, Rick let me up. My fingers touched my scorched posterior: it was hot to the touch. My pee-pee was still rock hard. I pulled my jeans up.

"So, you boys know, that if you get into any more trouble, what you'll be getting!" Rick said sternly. We both nodded our heads. I rubbed my hot ass through the seat of my jeans. It was on fire! I had been spanked before, but never like this.

Rick stood up. I noticed a very prominent bulge in the crotch of his khaki shorts: he had enjoyed this! I rubbed my tender bottom gingerly.

"So, no more trouble from you two?" He smacked the hairbrush into his palm, meaningfully.

"No, sir!" Johnny said.

"No, ..." I ventured, looking down at the floor.

"Because, any more trouble, and I know just who to come to!" He glared at me.

"I know," I said, in a little-boy voice.

"Good," Rick said. He went back into his room and put up the stool and brush. He was in there a long time. Johnny and I just sat on my bunk, afraid to move without permission. Finally, Rick came out of the back. His face was flushed, and he was a little out of breath, like he had been running or something.

"Go on. Both of you. Get out. And no more misbehaving!" We hurried out of the cabin, our bottoms throbbing.

"Ow," Johnny said, as we were walking towards the dining hall. "That sure hurt, didn't it?"

"Yeah," I said. My pee-pee was still rock hard, and I knew what I really wanted to do.

That night, while the cabin was filled with snores, I slipped my hand into my briefs and pulled on my hard pee-pee until it spurted, just a few drops, but it felt fantastic.

I didn't really want to get into trouble again at camp, but, of course, I did, and I felt Rick's wrath on my twelve year-old bottom more than a few times before the Summer was over. I got home well-tanned, in every way a boy can be.