The other married couples situated around the room were going through the exact same roller coaster of emotions, and when Joseph next spoke, it took a moment for him to be able to catch everyone's attention.
"This is indeed a wonderful sight to behold," he murmured, glancing at each husband in turn. "But I think we need to take it a step further. None of the women have been spanked with anything but the hand here at the camp, and I think it's time we changed that. Auntie, please hand around the implements. Gentlemen, you may choose whatever tool you wish to use on your wife — and girls, I don't want to hear a word of complaint. No matter what your husband decides to use, I feel you really deserve no less than a good caning. So consider yourselves to be getting off incredibly lightly."
Jeremy looked at the proffered basket hesitantly. Inside were a hairbrush, a small wooden paddle, a ruler and a slipper. Glancing over at Ian, he saw that his new friend was spanking Nancy with an evil-looking strap, the sound of leather hitting bare flesh was loud and frightening.
After a moment, he picked up the hairbrush. "Do you see what I'm holding, Betty, honey?" he asked gently.
She shook her head. She could hardly believe what was happening. Her bottom felt as though it was on fire already— and it was about to get worse? Trembling slightly, she closed her eyes and tried hard to relax.
"Now sweetie," Jeremy went on, "brace yourself. I have a feeling this might hurt a bit more than just my hand. But you do agree that I ought to have done this months ago, don't you? And just so you know; I fully intend to continue this method of discipline at home. I think it will make all the difference to our marriage, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir." Betty's voice was so quiet it was barely a whisper. As painful and humiliating as the whole experience was proving to be, it was somehow also comforting and reassuring. As her husband raised the wooden, oval hairbrush and brought it down hard on her already sore bottom, she felt a great wave of love, respect and desire for Jeremy wash over her. Everything would be all right. She knew that now.
For a long time, all Joseph heard was the resounding echo of various implements smacking bare, soft flesh.
This was one of his favorite parts of the camp. All his and his colleagues' hard work paid off when he saw the expressions of satisfaction and dignity on the husbands' faces —when he knew for sure that he and the others who worked with him at the camp were on track to save yet more marriages.
He smiled to himself as he recalled his first time at the camp. He, too, had enrolled his wife and discovered a whole new way of dealing with her through the methods applied there.
Monique Hughes had been a real brat until she was taught discipline. Now she called him 'Daddy' at home, was taken over his knees almost once a day (purely for preventative measures, for she had abstained from her awful behavior ever since they had begun their new lifestyle), and was given regular bottom suppositories and other nasty medicine when she showed even the slightest signs of being moody.
And thanks to all that, they had the best marriage ever. Their lovemaking was incredible and their feelings for each other had deepened so much further than those of the average husband and wife. Every day, Joseph thanked his lucky stars for his great fortune in having discovered the methods he was now teaching, and for having a wife who responded so well to them. And now, looking around the small classroom, he was certain that at least five more marriages would be touched by the same magic, although he was unsure about Lucille and her husband. They might need a little more work, he mused.
Betty, to her enormous surprise, was growing more excited with each stroke of the hairbrush Jeremy firmly applied to her roasting buttocks. The tingling between her thighs was unbearable in its intensity; she could feel the moisture indicating her arousal gathering in her most intimate places. She wanted nothing more than for her husband to yank her from her current position over his knees and ravish her right there on the carpet. But instead she was getting her butt paddled with the cruel hairbrush. Over and over again the wood cracked over the well-padded globes. Jeremy seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.
Biting her lower lip, Betty put her head down and tried to absorb the rising sting each crack of the brush caused in her behind without too much complaint.
After what felt like an eternity to the women, and what appeared to be far too soon to the men in the classroom, Joseph clapped his hands and suggested that they 'wrap up the spanking now, gentlemen!'
Jeremy ended Betty's paddling with two final resounding cracks to the backs of her pale, slender thighs. Having managed to keep the noise down to a mere whimper or two throughout, this last attack on unspanked, virgin flesh caused her to let out a helpless cry, a sound which drove her husband almost mad with sudden desire for her.
The whole experience had turned out to be intensely erotic for all concerned, and the Smiths weren't the only couple in the room who would have given anything to be permitted some time alone right then.
Joseph, however, had other ideas. "From now on, ladies," he began, "you will offer to refer to your husbands as 'Daddy,' 'Pa,' 'Papa' or 'Sir,' depending on their wishes. As for you, gentlemen, once the girls have returned home, I strongly suggest that you continue what we have started here. Your wives need to be cherished and cared for. Love them as unconditionally as you would your own daughter. If they misbehave, don't hesitate to put them back in their place — the best method is the one you've just used!"
There was a ripple of amusement among the men.
"It is almost dinnertime, but first there are a few more things I would like to show you. Girls, you do not need to be present for this. Please go to the canteen with your Auntie. You will be given some dinner and then you will have the opportunity to say goodnight to your husbands afterwards. Remember, the camp doesn't finish for another fortnight, so you will just have to be patient."
With sore bottoms and aching loins, the women traipsed dutifully behind their Auntie to the canteen.
The men stayed behind, their arousal pressing against their trousers, waiting to hear what else Mr. Hughes wanted to teach them.
CHAPTER FIVE
The exciting events of the day had left Betty entirely unable to sleep. Instead she stared, wide-eyed, into the gloom and tried to distract herself from the insistent pulsing between her legs.
Betty could not believe how wonderful it had been to see Jeremy again. Had anyone told her a month ago that she would get butterflies in her stomach at the mere prospect of seeing her husband, she would have scoffed. And yet, she could not deny the giddy feeling of love he had invoked in her — even as he had put her over his knee— even as he had applied the wooden hairbrush to her backside until she thought she could not stand one single stroke more.
Remembering that afternoon sent another bolt of lust shooting through her, and she shifted uncomfortably. It had been an unusually warm day and the humidity was still stifling in the crowded dormitory. Her fleecy pajamas itched and she longed to strip them off. But she didn't dare.
Then she heard something. What sounded like a moan floated out of the darkness. And then another... although that was more of a grunt. Was someone ill? Perhaps she should….
The next moan was more high-pitched, and then quickly stifled, as though someone had intentionally clamped a hand over their mouth. Recognizing what she had heard hit Betty in a rush. One of the girls was pleasuring herself!
She wondered briefly why on earth she hadn't thought of that before. All the pent-up frustration, the lust, the longing... she could eradicate it all in minutes and feel so much better! Sending a silent message of thanks to the anonymous moaner, Betty slid her hand slowly down between her thighs and began to rub...
Afterwards, as she lay in the relaxed glow of sexual satisfaction, she considered what they had been reading about in their new sex ed classes.
The lessons consisted of a combination of literature and the occasional lecture by one of their guardians. Usually it was Sir who addressed the class.
The im
portance of 'frame of mind' was stressed continually, and what they referred to as the 'psychology of sex' was also mentioned often. It boiled down to this: since the dawn of time, men have been physically stronger than women, and have – for right or wrong – been the leaders, controllers and generally dominant gender ever since the first man dragged his woman into a cave by her hair. And as such, there exists within woman a deep, almost primal need, not only to be taken care of, but also to be taken in hand.
Or something like that. It made sense, Betty thought, just before she drifted off to sleep. There must be an element of truth there. She didn't think she had ever been as attracted to Jeremy as she had been that afternoon.
* * * * *
"It has been brought to my attention," Auntie's voice was even more stern than usual, "that there has been some unchaste behavior in the dormitory at night. Please tell me now that this is not the case?"
The women were silent. Betty, being fair-skinned, tended to blush easily and prayed that her cheeks would not trumpet her guilt to the strict woman.
"You have a choice, girls," Auntie went on, when no response was forthcoming. "Any and all guilty parties can own up and take their discipline, or all of you will be punished for the actions of a few."
There was a collective sigh of regret, and in that instant Betty realized that she was in the company of some extremely loyal, wonderful people.
"Very well. You have brought this upon yourselves. Normally the rules are relaxed somewhat during the last week of camp — our way of helping prepare you for once again entering your roles as wives and, for some of you, mothers. However, if those of you who disobeyed the 'no touching yourself' rule are willing to be so selfish as to let others suffer for your naughtiness, then so be it. Prepare yourselves for an extremely tough final week here at camp." Auntie glared at each woman in turn.
Betty could hardly stand it. She knew from what she had heard that she had not been the only one to succumb to temptation at night in her cot, but the thought that Nancy and the others — anyone who had not, in fact — would be punished for her wrongdoings almost drove her crazy. She was about to raise her hand and admit her guilt when Nancy reached over and surreptitiously pinched her.
"Don't," she whispered.
"Such a shame," continued Auntie. "All our previous students will be the first to tell you how their final week here at camp was their best. And now. Well, I shan't spoil all the surprises. I can, however, tell you this. There will be no correspondence with the outside world — and yes, that includes your spouses — from now until the day you return home."
A groan echoed around the classroom, but still no one else said a thing. Nancy shot Betty warning glance.
"On your own heads be it. Class dismissed. It's time for your naps."
* * * * *
"If I ever find out who ratted on us, heads will roll!" Lauren fumed, later in the canteen.
"So it was you!" Emma chuckled.
"Oh come on, we've been here for three weeks. We're grown women. Of course we're going to take care of our needs somehow. I don't think I was the only one — in fact, I'd be surprised if a single one of us hasn't taken care of herself at some point since getting here!"
"Well, it would explain why everyone seemed so prepared to take the fall." Nancy shot Betty a knowing glance, at which Betty blushed.
"I wouldn't." Lucille had an irritating habit of looking down her nose when she was speaking to someone. "I, for one, have enough self-control to refrain from doing something so disgusting, especially in a room full of other people!"
"There's nothing disgusting about it," Lauren said simply. "But thank you, Lucille, for alerting us to the culprit."
"I never said I was the one who ratted!"
"And yet you never said you weren't," Nancy replied, raising her eyebrows. "We may not have proof, Lucille, but if it was you who told on us, and we find out for sure, you are going to be sorry as hell before camp ends."
"What's for dessert today?" Sandy, ever the peacemaker, changed the subject brightly.
"No dessert. Part of our new strict regime, apparently," Nancy said glumly. "I overheard Auntie instructing the cook."
"Well that's a damn shame. Just today, or for the whole week?" Sandy looked crestfallen.
Nancy pushed the rest of her meatloaf to the side of her plate with an expression of distaste. "Rest of the week, I think."
"A shame," Sandy repeated. "That's a damn shame."
"Something tells me that's not going to be the worst part of this week," Lauren said.
"How could it get much worse, though, really?" Betty reasoned. "They already treat us like children, they spank us, they make us wear these awful dresses and do without any luxury items so essential to a woman's comfort — cigarettes, wine, cosmetics. About the only decent thing about this place is nap time!"
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," said Nancy, ever the cynic. "Our guardians here are a resourceful lot. You mark my words. I wouldn't put anything past them —not least their ability to come up with ways to make our time here even worse than it already has been."
* * * * *
To everyone's dismay, Nancy's prediction turned out to be absolutely spot on.
In order to make sure that 'you naughty girls don't revert back to your shameful, wanton ways when no one's looking," Auntie personally secured every single woman's wrists to the headboard of her cot before lights out.
"What happens if we need to use the bathroom sometime during the night?" Betty asked in horror, as the soft bonds were being tied around her own hands.
"Do you usually get up to visit the potty during the night?" Auntie asked, in a soft, yet menacing tone. "Because if you do, we can certainly make arrangements. There's a closet full of diapers just down the hall."
"Diapers?"
"Yes, diapers! We would hate to have any embarrassing accidents, wouldn't we? So, little Betty, do you want one?"
"No, thank you, Auntie."
"Good. Does anyone else think she may not be able to wait until the morning?"
The silence was profound.
"Then I shall see you all tomorrow, when your new routine can begin in earnest. If you think we've been strict with you thus far, I can assure you all of a rude awakening. We have been far too lenient with you girls, as it happens, but no more mollycoddling! So you had better be on your best behavior! And no talking!" With that, Auntie flicked off the light and closed the door, leaving the stunned women to lie in the dark and contemplate their fate.
* * * * *
Jeremy found himself grinning like a schoolboy as he pulled up outside the bar. Taking off his hat and coat, he walked in and spotted Ian immediately. The tall man had already been there for some time, it seemed, judging by the progress he had made on his drink.
"So glad you could make it!" Ian called.
"It was a wonderful idea, to meet here like this and exchange ideas."
"What a stroke of luck indeed, discovering that we live in the same town. What'll it be?"
"Scotch. Neat."
After Ian had ordered drinks for them both, he leaned back and gave Jeremy a knowing look. "So. Quite an eventful day back there at the camp, wouldn't you say?"
"It most certainly was. I don't know about you, but I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it!"
"I think we all did! Cigar?"
"No, thank you. I've brought my pipe." Jeremy took it out of his pocket and lit it with relish before continuing. "Not sure about your Nancy, but my Betty jolly well deserved that good spanking. I should have done it years ago!"
"I must admit I was hesitant at first," Ian admitted. "My own father was a little too strict, not only with us, but with our mother as well. I always swore I would never lay a finger on my wife."
"You didn't!" Jeremy chortled. "It was a strap, if I recall correctly!"
Ian chuckled. "Yes, quite. But you know what I mean. Nancy has an insane temper sometimes, I think it's the Irish blood in her, but no matter how furious she some
times made me, I always struggled to remain calm. And if it got too much, I left the house for a little while. Then along comes this... Turbott fellow, who goes on to tell me that I've been doing it all wrong! That my wife needs discipline."
"But it must be done properly."
"Exactly. It's such a brilliant notion, I don't know why I never thought of it before."
"Have you read all the literature they sent out to us?"
Ian sipped his drink and nodded. "Fascinating stuff, really." He lowered his voice. "And quite… enlightening, too… in places."
"So you think you'll be implementing some of those... changes... when Nancy returns home?"
"I most certainly intend to. I also think those workshops that Turbott fellow mentioned are an excellent idea. He certainly heightened my curiosity when he said that there's so much more to – what did he call it – "domestic discipline" than merely putting a woman over your knee. And I can't wait to learn all about it. What about you?"
"If I have the opportunity. Things were rather desperate before Betty left for camp. Truth be told, I wasn't sure whether she'd even come home to me afterwards."
"I see."
"Then again, the way she looked at me last week... she hasn't looked at me like that since we were married. So perhaps there's hope yet."
"I'll say there is," Ian assured him. "Who knows, maybe we can all get together sometime once the little women have been paroled. Be nice to meet up, maybe go for dinner somewhere."
Jeremy guffawed. "Paroled! That's a good one. I do enjoy a sense of humor. It's been so long since I've had anything to laugh about. I'm really glad we met. And yes, I think future group outings with both Betty and Nancy are an excellent idea."
"Then that's settled. Now how about we have another and discuss that literature in more detail? I must say it's been giving me some rather... exotic… ideas."
* * * * *
"Open wide!"
Betty shook her head, her lips clamped firmly together.
Summer Camp Page 6
