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In 1997, I posted a series of true-life stories that got a lot of very positive e-mail response from readers of this website. I never finished the series, until now. In reviewing these original submissions, I have edited these stories and now repost them with typo corrections, etc. These repostings will be done every couple of days, and the series completed with new stories. This series begins when I was 11, and ends a year ago, with the stories posted chronologically. Enjoy!
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The summer camp Bill and I went to after our first year in military school, was located in the far northwest section of Minnesota, on an area of land that was basically an Indian reservation...and still is. There was no inside plumbing for the 4 cabins that held sixteen boys, divided by age. Each cabin had two dormitory sides that slept eight boys in four bunk beds. It was so isolated; we all swam nude in the lake. (To this day, swimming suits feel uncomfortable.)
My bunkmate was a really neat kid named Denny from Wisconsin. He was about 2" taller than me, with longer legs & arms and wavy black hair. Over the first several days, we both discovered in talking about our families, that we both got spanked the same way....OTK, with a paddle. Denny's father was more religious and stricter in his rules. We went to church, but my father didn't need the Bible to tell him when to paddle me!
We soon became partners in all camp activities. From morning flag formation, to lights out. That year we got our share of paddle swats from the camp counselors, all athletes from the area colleges.(Several of these will be told in other stories) I was not nearly as homesick as Denny was, because it was only 8 days from the time I got home from military school to going to camp. This homesickness created tension with Denny, which finally resulted in him getting spanked by me for really the wrong reason. But that is what he wanted.
One night, I felt Denny leave the bunkroom to go to the outdoor outhouse. He had been gone a little longer than usual, so I went after him to make sure he wasn't sick. When I opened the door of the outhouse, there sat Denny, leaning back against the wall, pounding his pony. I caught him just as he shot off. No sooner than he was done....he started crying like a little baby.
He explained to me that he had been jacking off for about six months. Because of his father's stern religious lectures, he confessed each one....and had gotten an OTK paddling for each confession. Denny felt that it was a sin, but he couldn't help himself. Between his homesickness and puberty, he had jacked off to relieve the tension.
"Denny, there's nothing wrong with that', I said; trying to console my best camp buddy. He wouldn't have any part of my compassion, insisting that he had sinned and needed to be spanked....just like his father gave him.
"What I did was wrong, and I know what my Dad would do. But I don't feel right about talking to our cabin counselors. Can we talk about it tomorrow?" With that we both went quietly back to our bunks. After breakfast the next morning, we were walking to the camp rifle range, and Denny started talking.
"Jason, I've been thinking. I can't talk about this to just anybody. I don't trust our counselors, and I don't really know the camp directors. If I called my father, he might get mad and pull me out of camp. But, I really feel guilty, especially since you caught me doing it." We walked on for a few more yards as I nervously waited for what I thought was going to come out of his mouth.
"Jason, would you give me a punishment bare butt paddling, just as hard and long as my father would give me?"
I expected it, but I was still stunned. I had plenty experience in getting paddled bare butt, but also some experiences in giving it. However, military school was bringing out a very dominant side to my personality, so Denny and I discussed what his father would normally do.
"Since I usually jacked off in my bedroom after my father and mother were in bed, he always gave me my spankings in my bedroom. He made me take off all my clothes, and bend over his knee. Then he would paddle me hard and long, with lots of lectures." I thought about Denny's request as we neared the rifle range with some of the other campers.
"Denny, I will do it. But, it will have to be done my way. You will still have a red hot butt with black & blue marks, but it has to be my way"....I said with a growing since of confidence. He looks over at me and nodded his head in agreement. We then spent the rest of the morning shooting the lights out of our paper targets with the .22 target rifles. (Bill and I were ranked 1st & 2nd that summer in the NRA Junior Camp Nationals. Today Bill is a ranked trap shooter.)
After each lunch period we had an hour-long break/mail reading period. During lunch, I told Denny that we were going to the fishing docks for his spanking. He had a hard time finishing lunch. This was an area of the camp where all the canoes were stacked and the sailboats & fishing boats moored. I t also had an outdoor meeting area that faced the lake, with the seating formed by round timbers, stacked on concrete blocks.
Immediately after lunch, we walked silently down the dock area. I told Denny to go over to the log seating area and drop his jeans. As I walked away, I could hear him starting to blubber as he unbuttoned his jeans. I went over to the tool shed and opened it up. Sure enough, the broken canoe paddle still hung on the wall. This had originally started out as a small kid's paddle, and the handle had been trimmed off to about 6". It made a perfect swat paddle, and was used on camper's butts by the counselors. I also grabbed a life preserver and two lengths of boat line before heading back to Denny.
I walked back to the log benches. Denny was standing there, hands clasped in front of him, head down, already crying, and his white cotton briefs stuck to his bubble butt....creased up his ass crack. I put my hand on his shoulder and reminded him why he was there. He nodded his head. I told him to slide his feet forward, putting the log between his legs and over his bunched jeans. Slowly and awkwardly he slid his feet forward, and I laid the life preserver down on the log.
After he had moved his feet about three feet into the log bench, he was against the concrete blocks holding up the log. I told him to stop and lay down on top of the life preserver. As he laid down, his legs were forced apart in an exaggerated angle. His butt jutted up at a perfect spanking angle. His cotton briefs framed his butt in a tight white target. I leaned down and tied both of his wrists together, and then I stretched is arms and wrists forward, tying the end of the line around a cement block. Now his body was taut and his butt ready.
"Denny, I'm not going to pull your underpants down for this spanking. I don't think it necessary to punish you by baring your butt. Trust me, I will give you just as bad a spanking with this canoe paddle on your briefs as your father gives you."
Now he was really crying. I pulled his T-shirt up to his armpits, and pulled the back over his head, sticking part of the tail in his mouth. I took the second boat line and wrapped the line around his head and wedging three strands in his mouth and T-shirt, before I tied it tight. Now he was bound, blinded and gagged.
"One final time before I begin. Spanking you for this is a bunch of _s_h_i_t_. But, if this is the way you are being raised and it will help you get over the guilt, I will give a real punishment paddling. Are you sure?", as I leaned down close to his T-shirt covered face, already moist from the dripping tears. He nodded 'yes'.
I picked up the paddle and tapped his angled buns. He flinched at my tapping as I gagged the distance. I took my first swing, landing with a solid "whack" and Denny's immediate muffled groan. Slowly and carefully I paddled Denny's cotton covered arched buns.
With each swat he groaned and moaned as much as he could. His buns began to squirm and heave, despite their bonds. On and on I went, counting slowly to 100 swats. I stopped at 100 and pulled his briefs down. He was already getting purple welts.
"Have you learned your lesson Denny?" He nodded his head furiously. I told him it wasn't over yet. He had 13 more to go. He started screaming in a gagged choking sound. I pulled back up his briefs. Then I pulled up the leg openings and wedged his briefs into his ass crack. I stood back and gave him 13 of the hardest and fastest swats I could safely give him. At the final swat he collapsed, sobbing and quivering.
I sat down on the bench, facing his butt and slowly began to massage his buns, giving him the kind of lecture that I thought his father would give him. After a few minutes I pulled his briefs back into place. I untied his T-shirt and pulled that down. Untying his wrists I helped him slowly back off the log. He was still quietly crying. I helped him pull up his jeans and he slowly buttoned them. I then gave him a "fatherly hug" and he emotionally hugged me back.
When we went swimming that afternoon, his butt was a multi-colored wonder. When questioned by the camp director, all Denny would say is "I lost a bet and got swatted." The camp director shook his head and acted like something else had happened, but couldn't prove it.
From that moment on, we were unseparable. In two later stories, we both got paddled hard....once by camp counselors, and once with the camp counselor's blessing, by our own cabin mates.
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This story is true, just certain names have been modified. I travel in my own business, and have the freedom to safely satisfy the spanking needs of interested readers.
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