Summer Camp Read online

  "I don't know; that's just it! I have no idea! But it's not all my fault, truly it isn't. Jeremy works so very much, he's hardly ever home except on Sundays, and... oh, I don't know. Sir," she added, still unable to meet his eyes.

  "I think I know," he went on. "You need guidance. Reassurance. Discipline. It is the way of the world that a woman is there for her husband. It has been that way for centuries, and there is nothing whatsoever wrong with taking care of the man you swore to love, honor and obey. I think Jeremy has not been taking good enough care of you. For a marriage to work, it must go two ways. Does he give you the feeling that you are loved, little Betty? Does he cherish you? Does he identify and satisfy your needs?"

  Betty's lower lip trembled as she realized that no; Jeremy did none of the things Joseph had listed. "I suppose not," she whispered.

  "You see? But you cannot put all the blame on your husband's shoulders, Betty. All men go through times where they are unable, for whatever reason, to devote as much time to their women as they would like. Jeremy works hard, to make sure you have a good and happy life. And instead of accepting that there are hard times during even the happiest of unions, you have been behaving like a spoiled brat and making poor Jeremy's life even harder!"

  Betty's eyes filled with tears as she realized that this man she had only just met was speaking the truth. She felt guilty, ashamed, and sorry.

  "You are a grown woman, and as such you should refrain from such childish behavior, should you not?" he went on.

  "Yes," Betty mumbled.

  "Yes what?"

  "Yes... Sir."

  "Good girl. Now little Betty, come over here and sit on your Daddy's knee. You don't need to cry, honey. I'm not angry with you."

  For long minutes, Betty sobbed into the man's neck, soaking his collar with hot, salty tears.

  He stroked her red hair and her slender back, knowing that she needed the release of a good, hard cry.

  "There, there," he murmured as her sobs began to abate. "Do you feel a bit better now?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Good. Still, I think there's something else we must do to make you feel better, little Betty."

  She looked up at him with wide, moist eyes. "What?"

  "You admit to having behaved badly towards your husband. Don't you feel guilty?"

  "I suppose so. Yes, I guess I do."

  "Well, you should. And that's why I'm going to give you a good, hard spanking right now, Betty."

  "No! You can't! I won't allow it!" Betty made to wriggle off his broad lap, but his gentle touch soon turned into a vice-like grip; he was much stronger than she was.

  "You don't have any choice, Betty," Joseph said, resolutely flipping her slender body over so that she was hanging limply over his broad knees. "You see, Jeremy wants you to be here. Jeremy wants you to change your behavior. And that is what this camp is for. You are getting a good hard spanking on your naughty little bare bottom, and you are going to take it with dignity. And there's nothing you can do about it."

  "No! Not on the bare!" All the warmth and comfort Betty had felt towards Joseph up until a minute ago vanished, and she struggled with all her might. "You can't spank me! I'm an adult!" she went on, kicking her slender feet and bucking over his lap.

  Her new guardian ignored her frantic struggles, calmly raising the hem of her girlish dress and hooking his fingers under the elastic of her panties. He clamped his right leg over both of hers, pinning her down, rendering her helpless, and slowly drew her underwear down over her slender thighs.

  "Tut, tut," he went on, admiring her naked, round buttocks, "Betty, I am much stronger than you are, you should know that! You deserve this spanking, and you can't convince me otherwise. Don't you deserve this spanking? For making your poor husband's life a misery? When all he has been trying to do was take good care of you?"

  "No!" Betty howled, tears of humiliation filling her eyes. "You said yourself that he wasn't giving me what I needed! Why don't you spank him instead?"

  He couldn't help but laugh at that last comment. "Don't be silly, young lady. You agreed with me just moments ago that you had been behaving badly towards that hard-working husband of yours, and you're only trying to shift the blame in his direction now because you're lying over my lap, your bottom bared, about to get a hiding the likes of which you won't forget in a hurry! I have five more young women in the next room, all of whom will be needing similar treatment, so if you don't hurry up and settle down, I promise you will be getting a lot more than a mere hand-spanking next time I see you. This will seem like a picnic in comparison to what else I could arrange, you know!"

  At last, Betty was forced to admit defeat. The threat of worse than what she was facing now worked. Taking a deep breath, she made herself relax and lie there limply, ready to take what was coming to her.

  "Now, Betty, let's start again, shall we? Do you deserve this spanking?"

  Betty sighed. "Yes, Sir."

  "Good girl. Ask for it."

  "Huh?"

  "You heard me perfectly well, young lady. Ask for the spanking. Didn't your parents ever do that?"

  "My parents never spanked me." Betty's voice was a whisper.

  "They didn't?" Joseph had trouble concealing the surprise in his voice.

  "No. They didn't believe in it."

  "My, my! Well, my dear, that might go some way towards explaining your recent behavior. And there's always a first time! So this shall be yours. Ask for it now, and we can begin."

  "Please spank me," Betty mumbled. By now she was desperate to get it over with. Besides, how bad could it be? It was a punishment for children, for goodness' sake. Surely it couldn't be that hard for a grown woman to take.

  "Betty, I would be glad to." He raised his arm, a crease of concentration furrowing his brow. For one brief moment, he appraised his pale, soft target, and then — WHAP! — his right hand came crashing down on Betty's right buttock.

  "Yeow!" she yelled, "that hurts!"

  "It's supposed to hurt," Joseph said calmly, "that's the whole point."

  SLAP! SMACK! SPLAT! THWAP!

  Betty's intentions of taking it stoically went out of the window as the large man went about setting her behind alight with ruthless precision and determination. His hand landed squarely on her soon sizzling flesh over and over again, never in the same place twice, always taking her by surprise.

  Howling like a banshee, she bucked and writhed, wishing she could kick her legs, wishing she could escape his clutches, wishing he would STOP!

  But he didn't. For a long time, he spanked and spanked Betty's naked bottom, until it was a hot pink all over, until the palm of his hand was stinging badly, until Betty went limp and stopped struggling.

  Only then did Joseph stop and rest, shaking his sore hand.

  "Do you think that was enough, little Betty?" he asked, admiring his handiwork on her glowing derrière.

  "Oh God, yes, yes, yes it was!"

  SLAP! WHACK! 'Do not take the Good Lord's name in vain, do you hear me, Betty?"

  The young redhead squealed in surprised shock as he landed another two stinging smacks to her already burning bottom.

  "Sorry, Sir," she gabbled, quickly. "I promise I won't do it again!"

  "You had better not, or else I'll take a paddle to you," her disciplinarian warned. "Now, tell me what you're thinking."

  "That I'm very sorry," Betty began, slowly, "and I shouldn't have treated Jeremy the way I did. I want to try to be a better wife."

  "That's a start, isn't it? Now, once you remember your manners, I shall let you get up off my lap — for now."

  It took a minute for Betty to realize Joseph was expecting her to thank him.

  "Thank you for spanking me, Sir," she said in a small voice.

  "Good girl. You're welcome. I think we made a nice start on what will hopefully be a very successful stay here, don't you, Betty? Now, up you get. Leave your panties where they are, around your knees, and go through that door over there. I want you
to go and stand in the corner of the next room with your nose to the wall, and I want you to think long and hard about what we've discussed in here. Understood? You will remain there until someone comes to get you."

  Obediently, Betty clambered off Joseph's lap. Her butt felt as though it could fry eggs, but she bit her lower lip, determined not to show how sore she still was. Instead she shuffled into the next room and took her place in the corner. One thing was for sure; she planned to make very certain that her first ever spanking would also be her last.

  Unfortunately, however, she had a strong suspicion that there would be a few more trips over her Daddy's knee before the summer camp was out.

  * * * * *

  Later that evening, Betty lay on her narrow cot in the dorm with all the other wives, recollecting the many and strange events of that first day at camp.

  After her session with Joseph, she had stood in the corner for thirty seemingly endless minutes, her backside burning and her mind racing. As unpleasant as the spanking had been, Betty had been forced to admit something to herself. She had needed it. She had been behaving terribly towards her poor Jeremy, and, more than anything, she felt ashamed.

  Auntie had come in to fetch Betty after the corner time was up. Once she had gingerly pulled her panties back up, she had been escorted back into the room with the blue walls.

  The woman named Lauren was in the back room with Joseph, and the other members of her group had looked at Betty questioningly. She had been about to say something, when their Auntie hushed her. "They will find out soon enough what their Daddy has to say," she had said. "You go over into that corner, Betty, and read quietly."

  Betty had done as she was told — under no circumstances did she want another dose of punishment so soon after the last one.

  One by one, the other women had their sessions with the disciplinarian they all had to call 'Daddy', and after the final corner time was over, they were all taken to the canteen by their new 'Auntie.'

  * * * * *

  Dinner was surprisingly good. Betty was not the only one who found she was starving after the events of the day, so she and the others tucked into their chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables with gusto.

  Auntie had said they were permitted to talk quietly during the meal, and the ladies took full advantage of their first real chance to communicate with one another.

  "Shame we can't have a nice glass of wine with this," Sandy said in a whisper.

  "Ha! If they did give us wine, no doubt it would be in a baby bottle!" Nancy said scornfully. "I really don't understand this whole thing. Anyone else feel like they're in a bad dream?"

  Everyone murmured their assent.

  "I, for one, am furious with Edward for sending me here," Emma added, pushing her long blonde hair back over her shoulder. "I can't think of anything I might have done that would justify this sort of treatment."

  "Same here," Sandy replied. "I'm good to my husband... when he can be bothered to be good to me. Seems so unfair that we're the ones having to go through this, we're the ones being blamed, when it takes two to make a marriage work."

  The other five women nodded their agreement.

  "I vote we do something about it." Betty had remained uncharacteristically quiet, but her bright eyes belied her otherwise meek demeanor. "We're all adults, for God's sake! Surely we could escape, or strike, or, or... something! Besides, I would kill for a cigarette."

  "Didn't you learn anything this afternoon in your private session with Joseph?" Emma said. "I say we should just keep our heads down, stay out of trouble and hope this silly camp runs its course as quickly and painlessly as possible."

  "Girls!" Auntie had been sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, a book in her ample lap. "Less talking, more eating, or it will be bed without supper tomorrow!"

  Nothing more was said, as the six women finished their meals in silence.

  * * * * *

  "You have exactly five minutes to get ready for bed. Anyone seen dawdling will find herself sleeping on her tummy." Auntie's tone of voice made it quite clear that she meant business.

  Still feeling the hot sting on their rear ends, the women rushed to do as they had been told, yanking off their dresses and pulling on their drop-seat pajamas. Before the third minute had even begun, all of them were tucked up in their cots.

  "Now ladies, it has been a long day for all of you. I suggest you settle down and get some sleep. I shall be here early tomorrow morning to wake you up. I don't want to hear any talking or other sounds whatsoever after lights out, or else I shall strap you to the bed and reheat your already sore bottoms — have I made myself clear?"

  The six women nodded.

  "Good," their Auntie went on. "The bathroom is just through here, in case anyone needs it. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight," they chorused. The other group had not yet returned to the dormitory, but Betty and the others were far too tired and apprehensive to ask any questions as to their whereabouts.

  The stern woman flicked the light switch, and the dorm was plunged into darkness.

  As far as Betty could tell, the others had fallen asleep almost instantly, but her thoughts wouldn't stop circling around in her mind. She wished she could talk to Jeremy, tell him how sorry she was, how much she loved him, how well she would behave in the future... there was so much she wanted to say! But she would just have to be patient. A few more weeks at the camp, and then she would be able to prove that she did care about their marriage.

  Betty's last thought before finally falling into a dreamless sleep was one of hope: that the upcoming days would pass more quickly than that first one had. And if they didn't, well, she would just have to figure out a way to secure herself an early release. She was sure she had detected a knowing look of agreement in Nancy's eyes earlier, when she had suggested fighting back. It would be easier with an ally.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jeremy missed his wife dreadfully. Not only did the house seem uncharacteristically quiet without her, but he had had plenty of time alone to think, and he was beginning to question his own mistakes with regards to their marriage.

  No doubt Betty had been ill tempered and rude, but he was forced to admit that she had also been right: he had been working too much and neglecting her.

  Sighing, he pushed away his plate. He did not much like having to cook for himself, either. Although his culinary efforts weren't bad, his food never tasted quite as good as the dishes his wife prepared for him on a daily basis.

  The sudden shrill ring of the telephone jolted him out of his reverie, and he went over to answer it.

  "Mr. Smith?"

  "Speaking."

  "This is Mr. Turbott; founder of the camp in which you have enrolled your wife."

  "Is everything okay?"

  "Oh yes, yes, this is merely a routine call. Betty is being well looked after."

  Jeremy lit his pipe and gave an almost inaudible sigh of relief before continuing. "It's just as well that you called, actually. I intended to contact you."

  "What about?"

  "I would like to know whether it's possible to remove Betty from the camp early. I'd like to bring her home."

  There was a long pause.

  "I'm afraid that's quite impossible, Mr. Smith." Mr. Turbott sounded amused by the suggestion.

  "Oh, really? Might I ask why?"

  "Surely you do not wish your marriage to return to its previous state? I understand that it is inconvenient to have to manage the household yourself, especially when one works as hard as you do, but any brief period of peaceful reconciliation would soon end and matters would go back to the way they were before. Believe me, Mr. Smith, I have years of experience in this. I actually called for another reason."

  "Which is?"

  "Of course while our focus is on educating your wife and the other wives entrusted to our care, we must also ensure that you yourself gain the knowledge required in order to properly deal with your wife in the event that she ever again displays her prior b
ad behavior."

  Jeremy was intrigued. "Go on."

  "We will be sending you some literature, which we would encourage you to peruse carefully. There will be a halfway visit in next week, and we would advise you to have studied the pamphlets thoroughly by then. For your own benefit, you understand. And Betty's," he added, almost as an afterthought.

  "Wait, I get to see Betty in a week?"

  There was a smile in Mr. Turbott's voice as he replied in the affirmative. "But that visit will be supervised by our staff, Mr. Smith, and we would like to remind you that Betty will not be returning home with you. We cannot recommend highly enough that she stay with us for the entire duration of the camp."

  Jeremy sucked on his pipe and thought for a moment. "And you're sure that she is well?"

  "Mr. Smith." Mr. Turbott's voice was authoritative, but gentle. "I understand completely what you are currently going through. No doubt you are missing Betty, and perhaps you are even regretting your decision to send her here. I would like to assure you that she is absolutely well and we are taking excellent care of her. I would also like to stress once more that although we do not have any legal rights to insist that she remain with us, experience has taught me that you will most definitely benefit the most from our program if you allow her to stay here for the entire duration of our camp. Believe me, this is not just for your own benefit, but also for your wife's."

  "Very well. Do you have my address?"

  "We certainly do, Mr. Smith. Do you have any other questions you wish me to address?"

  "Not as long as you assure me that she is well and happy."

  "Indeed. We shall see you here next Sunday, then. Please arrive by 10 am. And Mr. Smith?"

  "Yes?"

  "You should receive the literature by Tuesday at the latest. If you do not, please call us to let us know."

  "Very well."

  Once he had put the receiver down, Jeremy caught sight of a photograph of his wife on the dresser. She was wearing one of his favorite dresses and smiling into the camera. My darling girl, he muttered, I can't wait to see you. But if Mr. Turbott says it's for the best that you remain, who am I to argue?