Summer Camp Read online

  Summer Camp

  By

  Tabitha Black

  ©2010, 2014 by Blushing Books® and Tabitha Black

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Black, Tabitha

  Summer Camp

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-420-4

  Cover Art by Ineffable Designs

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Table of Contents:

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EPILOGUE

  TABITHA BLACK

  EBOOK OFFER

  BLUSHING BOOKS NEWSLETTER

  BLUSHING BOOKS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jeremy Smith heaved a deep sigh as he flicked through his local newspaper. He was almost fifty years old, and tired. He was bored with his job, he could feel the years creeping up on him, and he was exasperated with his wife, Betty. His colleagues would never understand that if he told them — they all envied him his beautiful, much younger spouse — but they didn't know how much she had changed over the past year or so. She used to be so sweet and loving— the sort of woman he had always dreamed of.

  So deep in thought was he that he didn't even look up when he heard Betty return from her daily trip to the grocer.

  "I'm home!" she called loudly from the hall.

  Jeremy grunted and turned over to the sports pages.

  Not a second later, she stormed into the living room, her green eyes flashing. "Didn't you hear me, Jeremy? I said I am home now!"

  Slowly, her husband raised his head to look at her. "I heard you, Betty," he said. "Or did you want me to call in a marching band to announce your return?"

  "That's just great!" Betty snapped, furiously. "What if I had needed help carrying some items in?"

  "Well, do you?"

  "No, but that's beside the point. I may have!"

  "And in that case, I'm sure you would have found the words to ask me for help."

  "I just adore coming home to you, Jeremy!" With an arrogant toss of her red curls, she flounced from the room.

  Her husband's only response was to emit another deep, resigned sigh as he continued to look through the newspaper. He would have loved a cup of coffee, but knew better than to ask Betty if she would make him one. That certainly was not worth the hassle.

  On the very last page, amongst the more shady personals, something caught Jeremy's eye. A large, bright, bold advertisement. As he scanned the text, a smile began to lift the corners of his mouth. Could this be it?

  "Have you heard my prayers at last, Lord?" he murmured, gazing at the small print once more, just to be sure he could believe what he was seeing. "Betty, my little beauty," he went on under his breath, "I think I've found just the thing!"

  * * * * *

  Later that evening, Jeremy watched his wife carefully as they ate the reheated leftovers of the pie she had made the previous day. He stared at her long lashes, her snub nose and the slight smattering of freckles across her cheekbones, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the stirrings of lust in his groin. She had grown even more beautiful since their wedding day, but her recent bitchy attitude upset him more than he cared to admit.

  She noticed him gazing at her, and putting her fork down, she glared back. "What are you staring at?" she snapped, after a long pause.

  "I was just thinking how beautiful you are, Betty," Jeremy said.

  "Oh."

  At least she had the grace to blush. "It's just such a shame you've turned into a spoilt brat," Jeremy continued, watching carefully to see her reaction.

  Betty's lips tightened and she glowered at him across the table. "What do you mean by that?" she hissed, furiously.

  "I mean, my darling, that you used to be such a sweet and cherishing woman. You did your chores without complaint, you often cooked me my favorite meals and you kept the house as neat as a pin. You were adorable— my ideal wife. But now, well, I don't know what exactly changed you, but something has. You're bitter, scathing and downright lazy.

  "I work all day every day in a futile attempt to keep up with your excessive spending, and all you do in return is backtalk me from morning 'til night. You even refuse me my marital rights as a husband! You used to enjoy sharing my bed, and now you won't let me come near you!"

  Jeremy, having at last opened the dam, found himself unable to stop talking. The pent-up frustration that had been festering inside him for months came pouring out like overflowing champagne. He went on, oblivious to the expression of dismay on his wife's beautiful face.

  "I mean, you used to adore it as much as I do... and now? Nothing; you're about as responsive as a stunned fish. What happened, Betty? Where is the humorous and enchanting woman I married?"

  Betty had laid down her cutlery and clasped her hands in her lap. She was squeezing them so tightly her knuckles had turned white. After a long pause, she raised her green eyes to his, and spoke in a soft, slow voice.

  "I'm sorry you feel that way, Jeremy," she began. "But you're not exactly blame-free yourself, you know. You see—"

  Jeremy interrupted, not giving her a chance to explain. "So that is why I am sending you here for one month," he blurted, thrusting the newspaper across the table and watching intently as she scanned the page. "The large advertisement circled in red pencil," he went on.

  Betty found the notice he was referring to, and read it carefully, her eyes widening in disbelief. "You can not be serious," she said at last, shoving the paper back at him.

  Jeremy fixed her with a steady gaze, his body language signaling that he would not be argued with on this point. "Deadly serious," he said.

  "But what is it supposed to mean? "Summer camp for little lost wives"? I am neither little, nor lost, dear husband. 'Send your spouse to us for a month and we will make sure she returns a better-behaved and well-adjusted young lady'? I am well-behaved, darling, and I don't see what any of this nonsense has to do with our marriage!"

  "It has everything to do with it," Jeremy continued, unruffled. "If this ad does what it says, then it will save our marriage. Because, quite frankly, I don't know how I'll be able to stand being around you for much longer, if you do not change."

  "That's just the point!" Betty was twisting a napkin over and over in her hands. "You're never home any more! You're always at work!"

  "To get away from you! Not to mention your spending! I have to make more and more money because you're never satisfied with what you have. You always want more. A larger refrigerator, a new mixer, more dresses than will fit in your closet!"

  "I've just about had enough of this insulting nonsense, so if you don't mind, I'll get to the dishes." Betty made to stand up, but the sudden harsh tone of her husband's voice stopped her in her tracks.

  "Betty Smith, I love you," he said firmly. "I feel a great tenderness and protectiveness towards you, which might be the problem. I am incapable of bringing you to heel when it is necessary; I am too weak to discipline y
ou properly."

  "Discipline me? Honey, these are the nineteen-fifties, not the damn dark ages!"

  "Discipline is important in every marriage, and I strongly believe that the reason you have changed for the worse is precisely because I cannot bring myself to be as firm with you as I should. So you are going to the camp. I have already telephoned them for all the details, and as soon as I knew exactly what to expect, I enrolled you. There will be no arguments whatsoever. I suggest you thank me for having your best interests at heart, and believe me, darling, I think your time spent there will do you the world of good. And me too, of course."

  Betty was so shocked, she was unable to think of a single thing to say. She stared at her husband, her eyes wide with astonishment and not a little apprehension.

  "I'll take your silence as a sign of acquiescence, then, shall I?" Jeremy went on.

  Betty swallowed once before she spoke at last. "I don't see what good this ridiculous idea will do our marriage, but very well. I will go there on one condition. If, for any reason, nothing has changed between us after I return, you will grant me permission to divorce you. Is that a deal?"

  Now it was Jeremy's turn to be stunned. "You're serious," he said slowly.

  She nodded. "I'm afraid so. You're hardly ever home, and when you are, you criticize me. And now this? Sending me away like some errant child? Forgive me for not wishing to be with a man who will do that to his own wife!"

  "Very well." Jeremy let out a long breath before continuing. "If you're that unhappy with me, then I suppose we have no choice. However, you must promise to give the camp your best shot – just allow us this one chance to save what used to be a wonderful marriage. All right?"

  "Fine. Well then, I'd better go and pack, hadn't I? This silly camp starts in just a few days' time, after all!"

  Jeremy watched the love of his life retreat from the room with a heavy feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. There was nothing he could do now but keep his fingers crossed and hope against hope that the summer camp would indeed save his marriage. For the consequences if it didn't, didn't even bear thinking about.

  * * * * *

  The first day of camp had dawned, far too early as far as Betty was concerned. She sat beside Jeremy in the passenger seat of their car, her lower lip jutting out like that of a petulant child. Her husband was concentrating on the journey, for it was a three-hour trip by car, and the lady he had spoken to when he'd enrolled his wife had stressed the importance of punctuality in the camp. The couple had had to rise before dawn that morning to make sure they reached their destination on time – which was one of the main causes of Betty's foul mood.

  "I hope the food they serve there is adequate," Betty spoke at last. "Really, I'm still stunned that you're making me do this."

  Jeremy remained silent.

  "Didn't you hear me? If only you hadn't found that stupid advertisement – just imagine, I could still be in bed, asleep, as most wives are at this indecently early hour! Instead, I have to endure a boring, long journey across the countryside and then four weeks of gibberish, I should imagine. No doubt this will turn out to be one of those silly new-founded seminars where some shrink talks rubbish for hours on end."

  "Betty, do shut up, please! I'm trying to concentrate – or would you prefer for us to get lost on the way there?"

  Betty folded her slender arms across her surprisingly full bosom. "I don't really care either way, Jeremy. But fine, I shall be quiet until we arrive. I bet you'll miss me, though, no matter what you might say now."

  When her husband still refrained from responding, the redheaded woman gave up at last, and stared moodily out the window.

  "We're here!" Jeremy checked his watch. "And on time, too!"

  "Great," Betty said, sarcastically.

  "Now, sweetie, I don't want to part on bad terms. Be a nice girl and give me a kiss before you go in. You never know – you might end up having a lot of fun here! After all, there will surely be other women about your age."

  "For God's sake, I feel as though it's my first day of school all over again," Betty grumbled, but she touched her lips to Jeremy's all the same.

  "Look after yourself, sugar. I'll be back to pick you up as arranged. If you need anything, let me know. Take care, Betty!"

  "Wait, honey, I don't want to do this. I've changed my mind. I'll be good, I promise." The sheer enormity of what she had agreed to – an entire month spent with strangers doing who-knew-what – had suddenly struck her, and Betty started to panic.

  "Listen, baby. Do you love me?" His voice was gentle.

  She looked at the man with whom she had fallen so desperately in love, taking in his warm brown eyes, the cleft in his chin, his broad shoulders. "You know I do."

  "Then please do this. For us. You mean the world to me but we can't go on as we are. Neither of us is happy. You're strong and you're beautiful and I really believe that this is what you – what we – need." Jeremy took his wife in his arms for a final hug, and then, without giving her a chance to respond, he hopped back in the car and was gone.

  Betty picked up her suitcase with a sigh, and turned towards the building. There was a reason for everything, she promised herself, and he was right, they weren't happy. If this was what he wanted her to do, she would do it... at least they would know where they stood once it was all over.

  * * * * *

  "Name?"

  Betty looked at the unfriendly receptionist in surprise. "Mrs. Smith," she said.

  "First name?"

  "Betty."

  "Very well. Go through that corridor and take the first door on your right."

  Betty did as she was told, a tiny prickle of apprehension beginning to settle in her stomach. Now that she had arrived, she had become very aware that she had no idea whatsoever of what was in store for her. She hoped it would be something like a health farm – her father had sent her mother to one of those once, and she had come home positively glowing with relaxation.

  Betty opened the door to find an empty, whitewashed room, completely bare apart from a lone woman holding a clipboard. "Name?" she said, in the exact same tone of voice as the receptionist.

  "Betty Smith."

  "Please leave your suitcase over there in the corner and remove all your clothing."

  Betty wasn't sure she had heard correctly. "I beg your pardon?"

  "Suitcase in the corner and the clothing off your body. Now! I won't say it again."

  With trembling fingers, Betty lugged her case to the corner of the room. Then she hesitated, looking at the woman with wide eyes. "You want me to undress? Here?" she managed at last.

  "Yes."

  "But what will I wear if I take off my clothing?"

  "Don't worry. You'll receive new clothing in the next room."

  "And if I refuse?"

  The woman was tall and heavyset, with a stern gaze. Meeting Betty's eyes, she spoke in a voice that brooked no argument. "If you refuse, young lady, you will simply be making things much harder on yourself. So I would suggest that you do as you are told."

  What sort of place was this? Where had Jeremy sent her? Betty blushed frantically as she slowly slid her designer jacket from her shoulders and removed her gloves. No one but her husband had seen her naked for years... and now she was expected to undress in front of a complete stranger?

  "What sort of hotel makes its guests undress and gives them new clothes?" Betty muttered, helplessly.

  "Shush! I don't know what gave you the idea that this is a hotel, young lady, but I can assure you, it is anything but! From now on you will do as you are told, or God help you, you'll be one sorry little girl indeed," the woman snapped, in a tone that could sand wood.

  Betty's mouth fell open with surprise. She was a woman of twenty-six, and no one had called her a young lady or little girl for years!

  "I think you must be mistaken," she stammered at last. "I suspect I've come to the wrong place. If you don't mind, I shall take my luggage and call my husband to collect me
."

  "Your husband, Jeremy Smith?"

  "How do you know my husband's name?"

  "Simple. He enrolled you here last week, and I tell you now, Betty, I am losing my patience. The other women were hesitant, but you are being most difficult. I suggest you finish undressing as fast as you can, before I decide to help you remove that expensive suit you're wearing."

  The way the woman carried herself gave Betty no doubts that she was being very serious indeed. With a lump in her throat, she peeled off the remainder of her clothing until she was standing there in her underwear.

  "Everything," the woman added, crossly.

  Mortified, Betty removed her slip, petticoat, girdle and brassiere and, after some hesitation, she slid her panties down to her ankles. Then she stood before the burly woman, one arm across her chest and her other hand cupping her mound, a bright blush of embarrassment staining her cheeks.

  The woman sounded much more friendly when she next spoke. "There, you see? That wasn't too bad, was it? Now, go through that door over there, and you will receive some new clothing. No, everything you brought with you will stay here with me – especially your handbag. Don't worry, you'll get it all back upon your departure."

  Betty's humiliation turned to horror in an instant. "No! I need my handbag! It has my purse inside it, my cosmetics, my cigarettes—"

  "None of which you'll need until you leave, I assure you. Rules are rules, Betty. Go on, scoot, I expect they'll all be waiting for you by now!"

  Betty realized that she had no choice. Fighting back tears of humiliation, she turned and walked through the door the lady had indicated.

  Nothing could have prepared Betty for the sight that greeted her when she went into the next room – as naked as the day she was born.

  About a dozen women knelt in the corner. Yet the fact that they were kneeling wasn't half as astounding as the clothing they wore. For although the youngest one there looked to be in her early twenties, all of them were wearing short, frilly dresses, of the kind one usually saw on six-year-old girls. Betty's only consolation was that they all seemed to be as overwhelmed and apprehensive as she was herself.