After hiking for almost 10 hours the first day of our trip, we finished setting up the campsite. I grabbed a water bag, along with a zip-lock bag of toilet paper from my pack, tucking it under my arm, and smiled broadly at my roommate and long-time buddy. We were backpacking and hiking through the Blue Ridge Mountains, on spring break from our senior year of college.
"I hope everything comes out all right," he joked. "You want me to come supervise?" He tossed a pebble playfully in my direction as I headed down the hill and away from our campsite. I just shook my head, amused but also a bit embarrassed. At 6'2", 180 lbs, my lean stature cast a long, thin shadow as I walked down the tree-lined mountain trail.
The fresh, mountain air energized me. Another refreshing, cool, mountain evening was coming in, the sun just beginning to pass below the ridge in front of me. I sensed the cooling air on my arms and legs, slightly sunburned, and sticking out of my t-shirt and khaki hiking shorts. As the leaves crunched beneath my boots, I noticed how colorful everything around me seemed. Gone was the harsh noon-day sun that floods all colors to whitish-something. It felt good to be walking again. My leg muscles had stiffened a bit since we stopped hiking and set up camp, and felt tight. I saw a rock outcropping way down the shoulder I was following and decided to take a little stroll.
Might as well have a view! I reached the granite buttress and put down the toilet paper and the water bag I'd brought to fill up at the spring on my way back. I clasped my hands together, lifted them way over my head, and reveled in the joy of a good stretch. I looked around for a good digging stick. As I bent down to pick up a suitable tool, I heard leaves crunching in the distance down below. Good thing I don't have to go that badly, I thought to myself. I sat down on the rock to wait for whoever was below me to move on by.
I could make out the shapes of two people moving through the trees. I wondered what they were doing. There was no real trail, except the one at the top of the ridge behind me. Well, I guess they're not too far off the trail, I thought. It does continue down the ridge and switch back a couple of times to descend the grade. They must have come from the trail near where it crosses the watershed. For the first time, I could see their faces.
I recognized the older of the two guys: it was that camp leader of the young guys, whom we'd met in the parking lot the day before. Brad was his name. He looked to be 8 or 10 years older than I was – in his early 30's. Seemed like a nice enough guy. We had bonded easily in conversation over some favorite rock climbing routes and white water rapids. I had guessed right that he was a paddler. A fellow C2-owner. It seemed to me that he and the other leader had their hands full as I watched the bunch of young adolescents milling around their van in the parking lot.
Pennsylvania plates. They'd come a fairly long way to backpack. Well, I guess I could understand that, considering the mountains of Pennsylvania are long low ridges with scenery that's no match for this part of western Carolina. The other guy must be a camper, I thought . . . or was he a bit too old? A junior leader, maybe? Could go either way. He's probably 17, maybe 18, I thought. Perhaps a freshman in college, or at least a high school senior, I surmised.
They seemed to be heading right towards me. Well, toward the rock outcropping anyway. If they'd been talking, I'm sure I could have made out their conversation. But all I heard was the ever-louder rustling of leaves under their feet. Yeah, they're definitely coming this way. Just as they got close enough that I could really see them well, they slipped out of view. It was a good 30 feet or so down from where I sat, to the ground at the bottom of the rock, and the rock obscured my view. My curiosity made me forget why I was there. What were these two guys doing out here so far from the trail and the rest of their group? Where were they headed? The footsteps stopped immediately beneath me.
"Have a seat, Marty." I recognized Brad's voice. It reverberated a little, bouncing off the rock between them and me. "I've had enough of the way you've been acting. Ever since we got in the van yesterday, you've been instigating trouble. I warned you then, when we stopped for gas; but obviously you didn't take me seriously."
I decided to see if I could sneak a look at them. They obviously didn't know I was there. I'd watched their entire approach and they never once looked up. I laid down quietly on my stomach; and, scuttling softly forward on my t-shirt, shorts, and bare legs, I edged out on the rock. Slowly I extended my head over the side of the ledge, and could see them very clearly below. Marty was sitting on a fallen tree, looking at the ground. Brad was standing with his arms folded, looking straight at the kid. He was 6', +200 lbs of trim, solid, muscle standing over this kid. Yeah, he's a paddler all right, I thought. He had the triceps, biceps, and pecs to prove it.
"Why are you always acting up, Marty?" There was silence. The kid seemed unsure if he was supposed to answer. He slowly shifted his gaze from the ground up towards Brad.
"I don't mean to. I'm just having fun," he finally managed.
"Getting us pulled over on the highway for hanging out the windows and flipping off other cars may be fun for you, but I promise you that was no fun for me dealing with the cop. Don't even pretend you weren't the one who got that started. I know you. I warned you about trying to pull any crap on this trip."
The expression on Marty's face had changed from one of carefree indifference. He looked a little concerned.
"I sure hope you had a good laugh about sending half the guys down the wrong trail today. Because you're going to pay for that. I hope it was worth it."
No, it was not concern any more. He looked smug now – even defiant.
"You and I have four more weeks together until camp is over and you go back home. And there's no way I'm going to put up with another four weeks like the last two. Do you understand me?"
Marty's hands were fiddling with a piece of grass he'd plucked from the ground. He didn't answer. I felt strangely excited to be watching this kid get scolded. I felt safe enough watching them. It would have hurt their necks to look up far enough to see me peering at them from atop the rock.
"Stand up." Marty seemed to think about that for a second, then slowly got to his feet, still focused on the blade of grass. Brad unfolded his arms, moved closer, and sat down on the fallen tree.
"You're going to get a spanking." He reached up and grabbed the upper part of Mary's left arm and pulled the kid towards him.
"Oh, no I'm not!" he almost shouted as he violently twitched, trying to break free of Brad's grip. Brad kept a firm lock on the kid's arm, seeming to wait patiently for him to settle down. Marty fought some more, but he must have felt stupid thrashing and going nowhere, because he finally stopped and tried to stand fully upright. Brad's grip wouldn't quite allow that.
"You can't spank me."
Calmly, Brad replied, "Oh yes I can. And I'm going to. I've been dealing with your junk for way too long, and it's going to stop – NOW!" This wasn't the same fun-loving, easy-going Brad I'd met the day before. I could tell this kid must have really pissed him off. He wasn't really angry now, but he was determined. Marty was clearly uncomfortable being squeezed like that and having to hunch over. But he was also clearly not going anywhere. Even though the kid must've been fairly strong too, Brad looked like he could keep that grip up all day long.
"Get your hands off me! You guys aren't allowed to touch us. Let me go!"
"You're not going anywhere until you've learned a lesson."
"Fine, if you want to lose your job. You know they'll fire you if you dare hit me." That smugness had returned to Marty's face.
"I'm not going to lose my job for disciplining you, Marty. You're not going to say a word about it to anyone." Brad seemed as cool as ever. "I don't have to remind you that your fate is in my hands. What I tell your Dad when he comes to pick you up will determine whether or not you get that new Jeep Wrangler to take to college. Your Dad gave you this chance to be a camper and junior counselor, to see if you could grow up and get serious. I'm sure you remember that conversation."
Marty didn't say a word. "If the rest of your camping time is like it's been so far, I'm going to tell your Dad exactly what it's been like. You think he'll be amused that you split our group up in the middle of the woods, and people could have gotten seriously lost? Or that you convinced two other campers to lift up Mary's skirt in the dining hall in front of the whole camp? I know you were behind that."
Marty's eyes were back on the ground, trying to avoid Brad's, which were staring right up at him, not 2 feet away. "When you're reminded about your Dad's deal with me, you seem to be able to act your age for a while. But it doesn't last. So here's how it's going to be from here on out. I'm going to give you a good, sound spanking today – so you'll know I'm serious. And your behavior is going to become a whole lot better from here on out – or else."
A protrusion from the rock that had been pushing into my sternum was getting uncomfortable. I slid a little to the left and found a smoother spot near the edge to remain stretched out on. This was one show I wasn't going to miss.
"You're not going to say a word about this spanking to anyone. Not if you want that jeep. Who's your Dad going to believe? Last year's counselor-of-the-year or you? He knows all about your stunts. So does the camp director."
Suddenly the kid was yanked across Brad's lap. He really didn't seem to put up a fight this time. Brad shifted himself into a more comfortable position and pushed the kid's body out away from him a little. Without another word his right hand landed on the bottom of Marty's black, Nike basketball shorts with a loud smack. SMACK!
Oh-yeah, I'm definitely not leaving now. I'd forgotten all about getting water or helping Jesse set up the tent.
SMACK! Again Brad's hand landed on the kid's small, firm bubble butt.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Marty started to squirm, as Brad pummeled his bottom.
SMACK! SMACK! "OW! Ow! Okay, okay."
SMACK! SMACK! "Okay, man! That's enough!"
SMACK! SMACK! "Come on! Come on! I'll be good."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Marty was squirming all over the place now, but Brad was on the case. He laid his left arm on the kid's back, his hand cupping Marty's right side, and his elbow pressing into the kid's back right between his shoulder blades. That seemed to stop his thrashing around.
SMACK! SMACK! "You might as well quit fighting and just take it."
SMACK! SMACK! "OWWWWW! OWWWWW!" For the first time, I could hear a little defeat in Marty's voice.
SMACK! SMACK! Brad wasn't holding back. Granted, the slaps sounded loud because they bounced off the granite buttress, but those were some serious spanks just the same. Marty was going to have a red butt – there was no doubt in my mind.
SMACK! SMACK! Brad kept a very steady rhythm – nothing slowed him down. Keeping Marty's twitching body in place didn't appear to be a problem.
SMACKSMACKSMACK! "Starting to regret the stunts you pulled today?"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "OWW! OWW! OWW! OWWWWWW! Stop man!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Brad seemed to be turning up the intensity.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! And his pace was getting a little faster.
SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACK! "Discipline is not going to be a problem from now on."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "You're going to follow the rules . . .!
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . . and not make trouble."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Or you'll find yourself getting spanked again and again until you do."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Marty was wiggling all over the place again. It must have really hurt.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! A bead of sweat dripped from Brad's forehead and landed on the small of Marty's back, since his struggling had pulled his t-shirt loose.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "OOOOOOWWCH!!! Okay, Brad! OKAAAAAAAY!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Brad's focus seemed to grow more intent, and his pace continued to quicken. SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!
SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACK! "Stop! That's enough! STOP!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Suddenly there was Marty''s right hand behind his butt, palm facing outward to try to stop the unquestionably unbearable volley of swats. The spanking stopped at once.
"Stand up!" Marty lowered his right arm away from his butt and onto Brad's left knee. He placed his left arm on the top of Brad's left thigh, and slowly pushed himself off his counselor's lap. He stood up. In one swift motion, Brad had grabbed the bottom of Marty's shorts on both sides and tugged them down below his knees.
"HEY!!! What are you DOING?!!"
Before he could get an answer, Marty was thrust back down over Brad's lap. "Don't you try to interfere with this spanking again until I'm done with you, young man! If you do, we'll start all over, and repeat it again tomorrow also!"
SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! Even louder and more resilient than before was the sound of Brad's hand slapping that bare butt. I was sure Marty wished he had worn underwear that day.
"R-uh! R-uh! Are you CRAZEEEE?! Uh-uh! s-STOPIT!"
SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK! Again, that resounding slaps of skin on skin.
SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMAACKSMAACKSMAACK!! "You can't do this, man!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Watch me, Marty!" Brad's voice was firm and unshakeable. He quickly resumed his pace from before, as Marty did his squirming.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Marty's bottom was RED! It was no echo-effect. That kid was getting a hard spanking.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Puh! PLEEEEEEEEASE! Uuhhh! Uhuhuh!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "I'll-uh! do what you want!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "STOP! STOP! COM-OOOOOOON! STOP IT!!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "OWWWW!!! Uhuh! Uh-augh-uh!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Ooooooooo-ah! That REALLY hurts!"
SMACK! SMACK! "Come on! Come ON! Uh! STOP!!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Again the spanking stopped. I noticed for the first time that they were both breathing very heavily. Brad shifted his weight and repositioned the younger guy's body across his legs. Marty's bottom was tilted up higher, aimed for further smacks.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "PLEEEEEEEEEEASE STOP!!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "I'm not stopping until I'm ready." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "And until you're ready – SMACK! – until you've learned the lesson" SMACK! "you should have gotten long before this!" SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!! "You might as well save your breath, kid."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMAACK! "I should have done this a long time ago."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "The last four weeks of camp . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . . are going to be a lot better for me."
SMACK! SMACK! "The other counselors . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . . are going to wonder . . ."
SMACK! ". . . what happened . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . to you . . ."
SMACK! ". . . on this trip . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . to make you settle down so much."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "If I hear a single word . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . from another counselor . . ."
SMACK! " . . . that you caused any trouble . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . around camp . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . you're going to get another spanking!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "You may be able to get away . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . with acting like a spoiled brat at home . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . but that doesn't cut it here."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Unless you want a lot more of this . . ."
". . . uh-huh-uh-oooo! Ah-YOWWW!! NOOOOooooooo!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . . you're going to have to change."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . right now!"
SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!! "OOOKKKAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!" The kid's voice cracked. He was defeated.
SMACK! SMACK! ". . .when another counselor . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . or anybody in authority . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . .tells you to do something . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . . or not to do something, . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . you are to do it, . . . "
SMACK! SMACK! ". . . or to stop doing it -- . . ."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . .immediately! Got that?"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . .oooooh, aaaah, yeah-yeah! I prom-ah-isssss!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I could hear Marty starting to whimper.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "PLEEEEEEEEEASE! STOP!! OOO-AH! P-PLEEZ-UH! STOP-UH! Uh-uh-UH!" The kid was exasperated, but at his limits too.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Brad didn't let up one bit with the spanking as Marty's sobbing grew louder.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "I'm . . .uh! uh! uh!"
SMACK! SMACK! ". . .uh! uh-SORR . . . uh!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! ". . . augh-uh-uh! RRREEEEE! . . .uh! Uh! Aughuh! Ooooo-uh! BRAD! AHM-uh! SORREEE!" Marty managed between sobs.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Brad was now covered with sweat and it was dripping all over the kids back and butt.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Yet he didn't seem tired.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! Because the slaps continued to grow even harder and still faster.
SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! Marty was a big, blubbering mass of 17 year-old kid now.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Crying as passionately as he probably ever had.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "Okay . . .uh-oooookaaaay! Oooooo! uh-aaaaaah! P-PLEEEEZ! PLEEZ!" Something about his tone made me suddenly feel sorry for him.
SMACK! ". . . Brad! . . .uh! uh! BRAD! . . . uh! uh! huhaugh!"
SMACK! SMACK! "YEEOW! . . . uh-uh! PLEEE . . .uh! uh! Oooooooo-uh-uh!"
SMACK! "PLEEE-uh! uh! augh! . . . EASE! Oooo-ah-YOWW!"
SMAAACK! That was the hardest loudest swat yet. Brad was really giving his arm, and this kid's butt, a workout. Silence, with a background of sobbing. A quarter-note of rest from the spanking.
SMAAAACK! Even HARDER than before! Another pause. Using his entire body – hips, shoulders, and arm – Brad wound himself up for another series of swats. SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAACK! SMAAAAAACK!! I can only imagine how much the force of those incredible swats must have hurt. The kid let out huge yelps, took quick, gasping breaths, and resumed his uncontrollable sobbing.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Suddenly the spanking stopped. "Get up," Brad said in a low and surprisingly calm voice. The spanking was over. Marty didn't move for a while, however. He was fighting to catch his breath, still sobbing and mumbling. But his breathing quickly began to grow calmer. Slowly, he got to his feet. Brad again shifted his weight on the log and gently shook his right hand in the air, as if to unwind it.
Marty stood all the way up, his Nikes still around his ankles. I could see for the first time that his eyes were very red, his face covered with tears and a little snot, his hair tousled and disheveled. He doubled over, and reached back instantly to cover his blistered bottom with his two hands.
After a couple more minutes, he then reached up with two fists and rubbed the tears away from his eyes, while still heaving and choking. As if he just became aware he was exposed before his leader, Marty quickly bent down and grabbed his shorts. I watched him wince, and his angry red butt quickly disappear into his black basketball shorts, as he gingerly pulled them up and over his battered behind. Brad was obviously in very good shape, as his breathing was quickly returning to normal.
"I hope this doesn't have to be a regular thing with us, Marty." Marty shifted his weight nervously as he looked up towards Brad.
"You're a good kid." Marty quickly diverted his glance away from Brad. "You can be a little hellion sometimes, . . . but I like you. And so do the other guys. Especially when you act your age." Marty almost seemed to beam under the praise of this guy he obviously respected and looked up to.
"I'll make a deal with you, okay?" Marty looked up hopefully. "If you can stay out of trouble for the rest of the summer, no more spankings. And I'll tell your Dad you did great and all the counselors enjoyed having you." Marty seemed eager to oblige.
"I will. I promise."
"Good. Because if you don't, you should have no doubt about it. I will take you across the lake to Oakcrest and spank you thoroughly. This will seem like a picnic!"
"I will. I will. I promise." Marty sniffled and grabbed the tail of his shirt and lifted it to wipe his face before letting it fall again.
"You just finished making a key rack in wood shop, right?" A pause.
"Uh huh." Sniff. Sniff.
"Here's what your next project is going to be." Marty looked confused.
"I'll talk to Mr. Blake and you won't have to pay for the materials." Brad paused. "But you're going to make a paddle." His confused look gave way to horror. "If you can keep your act together, you won't have to know what it feels like. But the first time I hear about you raising hell, I'm going to take that paddle to your rearend and beat your butt with it. Good and hard. Is that clear?"
Marty seemed to know he didn't really have any choice.
"Yeah."
"What, boy?"
"I mean, y-yes, sir."
"Come here." Brad stood up and opened his arms. Marty stepped forward and Brad wrapped his big arms around the kid, who grabbed hold of his counselor. They hugged each other tightly. "I'm sorry it was necessary for me to do that to you."
"It's . . . uh . . . OK. I guess I deserved it. Anyway, I'm sorry."
"Come on. I'll race you back to the campsite." With that, they took off through the trees, back the way they had come. I watched as Marty pulled out in front, Brad obviously letting the kid get ahead of him.
They were about to run up the treed incline, just below the huge rock on which I had slid and hid, lying on my stomach. I got a cramp in my left calf, gripping the muscle with stabbing pain. I tried to move it, to get up, quietly, when suddenly I felt myself slipping and losing my balance. I was going to slide off the rock, down 30 feet to sure injury or maybe even death.
"WHOOOOOOOAAAAA!" I screamed, and twisted sharply and quickly, trying to avoid falling. My right arm crooked around that jagged protrusion that had stuck into me earlier, and my left had grabbed another, smaller crevice in the rock. I caught myself, and was hanging, dangling from that rock for as long as my strength could support me. My legs were cycling and dangling, as I repeatedly tried in vain to hoist myself back up onto the rock by swinging one of my legs upward sideways. There just wasn't enough rock to use as leverage, and I fell back dangling again and again, after every sweep.
"HELP! HELP!" I shouted out in urgent terror of falling.
Brad and Marty both stopped in their tracks, raising their eyes immediately, to see my bare legs and boots frantically swinging directly above them. "'Looks like we caught somebody spying on us, and he lost his balance," Brad remarked. "If he can't get back up, and falls, he'll probably break his legs and arms, maybe worse."
With that observation, he raced up the steeper side of the incline to get to the rock protrusion that I had laid on, and was now clinging desperately to. Marty was right behind him. When Brad reached the rock, he looked down, into my face which by now was fear-stricken. "Hang on there a minute more, kid," he directed. Then he ordered, "Try swinging your legs back up sideways again."
"I don't know if I can . . . any more," I replied weak and breathless.
"Well, you've got to, man. Give it your hardest – now!" Brad commanded.
My hands were so painful from gripping the rock that I could hardly make my body and legs swing; but I pushed with all the effort I could muster. I couldn't reach the rock ledge, but Brad's arms and hands reached far enough down to grab my left upper thigh as it swung near to the rock. His strong, hard hands grabbed my shorts and thigh, and he backed away beginning to pull my leg up towards the rock.
"Don't let go with your hands! Hold on tight, kid! Marty, get over here and grab this guy's arms!" The kid reached over and put his hands on my arms. He didn't feel very strong.
"Now, you pull yourself up as hard as you can, boy, and Marty will pull your arms at the same time. I've got your leg. All at once, now!"
Brad's hold on my shorts and thigh was steely, and with the kid pulling my arms and my own feeble force, suddenly I found myself dragged up onto the rock. My t-shirt had ridden up my back, and my shorts were dirty, twisted, and tight on my butt from Brad pulling me up by them. I lay face down, gasping from my exertion and fear. "Aaah-uh! Aaah-uh! Aaah-uh! Aaah-uh! Aaaaa-uhh!" Finally, after a couple of minutes, I managed to mutter, "Th-thanks, man! You probably saved my life."
I started to push myself up when I felt Brad's strong leg and boot step on the small of my back, pushing me flat to the ground again. "Hey, what's the matter?!" I asked my objection.
"Looks like you were sneaking around, spying on us, weren't you fella?"
"Ah, ummm, . . . not really," I mumbled a lie.
"Don't make it worse by lying to me, boy," Brad responded, holding his strong leg and foot firmly against my back, confining me flat against the hard, dirty rock on which I had crawled out earlier.
"You hid and watched me take this kid to the woodshed, didn't you?"
What was I to do? He knew I had, and that I just lied to him, and he wasn't letting me up. I guess I'd just tell the truth, but soften it a bit. "Well, I couldn't help see and hear what went on, but I wasn't hiding. I came out here for other reasons."
"Oh, I can see that," Brad said as he pointed to the water bag and toilet paper laying about 15' away from my feet. "But you took an interest in what we were doing, and sneaked up here to gawk at us, didn't you? Don't lie to me now!" His voice was stern and authoritative.
"Well, I . . ."
"You're a college boy, right?" Brad asked.
"Yes. Cumberland," I answered.
"Right. Connor, correct? We talked back down in the parking lot yesterday."
"That's right," I muttered up from my flattened posture on the rocky ground.
"Well, Connor, what'r ya doing up here staring at us? I sure wouldn't have guessed that of you, kid." He was talking at me much as he had Marty earlier. "Where's your buddy? Hiding out peeking at us too?"
"N-no. He's back at camp. Listen, Brad – that's your name, isn't it? – what's the problem? I just wandered onto you guys, and anybody could see and hear what was going on. It's no big deal."
I was getting annoyed to be talking up to somebody who was still securing me flat, face down on the ground with the force of his foot. I tried to push myself up again with my hands and arms, but he strengthened the pressure of his foot and leg against my back. I gave up, and relaxed back lying down flat. His foot remained atop my back.
"Listen, college kid, I'll show you what's the problem, and teach you what a big deal it is to lurk around and spy on people whose business is none of your concern."
Maybe he's worried that with me having seen him spanking Marty, it might become known, and he could lose his job, I thought. "Look, man! No harm done. I'll just go on back to our camp, and forget everything." I tried again to lift myself up, but he gave no slack for me to move under his firm foot and leg. I was aggravated, and tired of my face staring at the dirt and rock I was flattened against.
"Alright, Brad!" I raised my voice. "What's your point? Let me up! I'm out of here and you won't see me again! Okay?" I turned my head to the left, peering up sideways at this powerful, big man who had saved my life, but now was keeping me there, compressed under the constraint of his foot. He looked determined and stern – like he had a while earlier before he spanked Marty.
"You won't want to see us again, kid, not after we're through. This'll be the last time you ever want to see us again, open or hiding." He sounded definite. My irritation was mingled with some apprehension about what he was talking about.
Suddenly, I felt him take his foot off my back, and I found myself being lifted up off the rocky ground as if a hoist had grabbed hold of me around the middle, and lifted me up, hanging over both sides. In fact, Brad had grabbed the waistband of my shorts and belt, pulling them into my stomach and up high and tight, almost completely lifting me off the ground. My boots slipped and raced trying to keep up while he dragged me away from the rock protrusion, and across the ground, to a nearby tree stump.
"What are you doing, man?" I objected. "Let go of me and I'm gone!"
"Oh, no, Connor. That would let you get away with prowling around and prying on other people. You've got to know better than that! It almost cost you a serious injury or even death. But Marty here, and I – the guys you were spying on – were here in time to rescue you. I think you're butt's got a lesson to learn from two guys who just saved it!"
Oh, oh. Was he talking about the same thing he had done to Marty? But I wasn't his responsibility, and besides I was a lot older than Marty – 5 years!
Looking up, I saw Marty watching me as I flailed my arms and my feet skidded, while, still in Brad's steely grip, he continued to drag me towards the stump. Quickly, Brad was at the stump, me still hanging from my belt. He sat down. Then like a bundle he was carrying, he brought me over and deposited me across his lap. Now I knew for sure what was up!
"Hey, look, man!" I shouted. "I'm not some kid in your charge! You can't do this!"
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! I was immediately interrupted, and insulted, by his dispatching fifteen, fast, strong spanks to the seat of my shorts. Brad's strong left arm circled my waist, locking me into his hold across his knees.
The pockets on the sides of my shorts held my wallet and other personal items, leaving my small, hard, flat bottom an easy, unobstructed target for his wallops. He pounded it over and over again. WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP!
WHOOOOOOAAAAAAH!! I was outraged! Who did this guy think he was, and what did he think he was doing?! "Hey, man!" I erupted. "Cut it out! Right now! You can't do this! I'm too old for this! I'm a senior! – 22, man! Stop it! Right now! STOP! STOP IT!!" I stormed my orders at him.
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! He struck swiftly, fifteen more times.
"You think I can't? You just eavesdropped on my doing exactly that to Marty, here. He thought I couldn't do it, too. Well, you just wait until you see what you're going to get, young man."
I was incensed at this happening to me, and this guy paying no attention to what I said. Besides that, I already felt the discomfort from the battery of blows administered to the backside of my shorts.
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP!
Without uttering another word, he loosed 25 more swats to the seat of my shorts with machine-gun rapidity. I was shocked and gasping from the affront to my pride and the mounting fire on my backside.
"Waaaa-augh-ait a minute! Agh-waaaaaaaait!" I gasped.
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "Wait, nothing, kid!"
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "Didn't your Mom and Dad ever teach you about spying and eavesdropping on people?" WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP!
"Augh-aaah-uh-yeah-yeah! Ah-sure-ah-ah! they did!" I gasped my answer. My behind was heating up real fast and real hot! "Listen, man, I'm 22! Ooooooo-aaaah-ah! Owwww! For-aaaaaah! crying out loud! Aaaah-man! I'm 22-aaaaaa! Ooooooooooooo-aaaah-yowwww!!"
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "It looks like you're a 22 year-old college brat who needs his backside tanned to repeat a lesson he should have learned a long time ago?" With that he resumed the rapid-fire swats to the seat of my shorts.
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP!
"But we'll see who ends up crying out loud." Now, I was squirming and wriggling, trying to get away from the hard, powerful hand that was crashing down against my behind – trying to get off his knees, to run for all I was worth. But it was futile. He was incredibly strong!
At this point, my bottom was really heating up and hurting. Involuntarily, I was kicking and bucking, trying to avoid the blazing barrage. At the same time, I was at the threshold of my humiliation point, as I felt tears begin to gather in my eyes. My sighs, grunts, and moans were becoming louder, just short of breaking down to bawling and sobbing. I needed to find a way out of this, to get this stopped, before I could no longer hold on and hold back. Okay, I'd concede my mistake, and try to get him to cut this short and let me go.
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "Okay. Okay."
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "I g-guess you're right, uhh!" I gasped, my voice almost breaking and revealing me to be at the edge."
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "What was that, sonny boy? You guess I'm right?"
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "Well, you won't have to guess, kid! Everytime" WHAAUMP! "you go to sit down," WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "stand up" WHAAUMP! "walk" WHAAUMP! "and bend over" WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! "you'll remember this" WHAAUMPWHAAUMP!! – and that I'm right!" WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP!
WHEWHAAAAAAAAA! Here I was, a big 22 year-old senior, being spanked and bouncing around on this strong guy's lap like a 10 year-old. My boots were in the air more than they hit the ground, and my butt was smoldering as Brad stoked the mounting inferno on my unprotected shorts' seat. I was desperate, frantic. Abandoning my pride, I began to beg, promise, and plead.
"Ahhh! L-look, man! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! I'm sorry! Oooo! Oooooo! Owww! I'm sorry! Aah-aah-aah-aah-aaaaah! I-uh! know-uh! what you mean! Aaaaa-yaaa-ooooo- aaaa-yoww! Please! Please! Uh-uh-aaah! I've learned my-ah l-lesson-aaaaaah!! Ooooo-ah! NOOO-ah-STOP! I'll-ah! n-never-ah! Yeeoweeyoweeyow! Nah-never!! Aaaaeeeyoww! d-do it again! Oooooooo-aaah-owww!! Puh-leeeez! Uh-nooOOOO! Uh! I PROMISE! Oooooooo! Ah! Puh-pleeez! I PROMISE! I PROMISE! Aaaa-uh-yaaaaah! I SAID Aieeeyaaowww! ISAID I PROMISE! Ooooeeyoweeyoww! I SAID-uh! N-NEVER! Puh-leeez! Augh-uh! I Promisssss . . . Ooooo-uh-aaaa-oweeeyowww!"
Brad was neither fooled, nor moved, by my frenzied thrashing or vows. Just at the moment that I realized I was not going to be able to bargain or talk my way out of this, the pain that was torching my backside and jolting my brain pushed me over the edge. Tears began pouring out of my eyes, and I crumbled into bawling sobs.
"Ah-uh-augh! aughaaa! Ooooo-yaugh! STOPIT! STOPIT! OOOO-AAA-YOWW!! Grrrnghaaa! Haugh-augh! Uh! uh! Oooooo-uh! uh! Aaaa-uh! NOOOOO! PUH-LEEEZ! Aaww-uh! Ooooeeeyoww-ah! Aaa-uh-huh-augh! Nnnghaaa! Augh! Nnnnghaaa! Oooo! Ooooo-uh! Yaaannng-augh! Owee! Oweeeee! OweeoweeOWW! Ooooo-uh! Oooooo!"
Still the spanking continued. Brad showed no sign of tiring or slowing down – and after having delivered a solid trouncing to Marty not more than 30 minutes ago!
In my hysteria combined with outrage, my strength seemed to redouble, and I fought furiously against the vice-like lock, and the machine-like licking that I was caught in. Twisting and writhing, wriggling and bouncing, thrusting and bucking, kicking and flailing! All to no avail! He escalated the punishment to my rearend.
I dashed my right arm and hand up to try to protect my flaming behind! Releasing his clamp on my waist, Brad grabbed my right hand and arm, and jerked them up, pushing up my t-shirt against the small of my back. This wresting of my arm against my back, created new pain that momentarily settled me down, while the spanking went on. Glancing to my right, I saw Marty standing, wide-eyed, watching my spanking, as he rubbed and grasped his own bruised bottom with his hands.
WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP! WHAAUMP!
"STOP! STOP! Augh-uh-YOW! Uh! Y-YOU-Uh-uh! WERE RIGHT! AIEEEYOW! STOPIT! STOPIT! STOPIT! OOO-aa-YOW! STOP SPANKING! STOP-ah-SPAA-augh! KEEENG-ghaaa!! OOOO-ah-YOW! Ah-ah-uh-uh-uh! N-N-N-NOOOOO! Uh-ah-uh-uh! M-MOOOOR-uh! SP-SP-uh-uh! SPAAANK-uh! EEENgaugh! Uh! uh! uh!" I hollered.
I was broken. Down from the plane of a _c_o_c_k_y, 22 year-old senior, to a wailing, bad boy who was being hauled to the woodshed for his misbehavior. I couldn't help it. My blazing bottom was afire, the agony tormenting me to fold. And I did. I jumped and squirmed, but mostly sobbed and heaved, choked and gasped, and kicked my feet, as I hung over Brad's lap, and he continued pummeling my behind.
Suddenly, he stopped. I was already so spent, I didn't think I could force myself up and off his lap, to run for it. No matter. He was finished, and had no intention of letting me up. Instead, he twisted my wrenched right arm up forcing me to turn towards the right and roll over, facing upward across his knees. I tried to sit up quickly, but he bobbled his hard thighs against my throbbing bottom. Losing my balance, I fell backwards. His fingers quickly unfastened my belt, pulled down my zipper, and reached into the crotch of my shorts, yanking them down over my hips and buttocks, past my thighs and knees to my ankles.
"WHAT'R YOU DOOOOOOING?!!" I roared. "NOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAA!" He rolled me back over face downward across his lap, and rapidly returned to dispensing another torrent of spanks to the thin, cotton seat of my boxers.
WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK!
I shrieked some more, as he ratcheted higher the intensity of the bombardment to my butt. But still not speaking further, he rained what seemed like an unending assault of spanks down on my already smoldering behind!
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
I was beside myself with painful misery and indignity. Then both the pain and the humiliation got worse. Pausing his rapid-fire blows to my behind, Brad reached up, grabbed the waistband of my boxers, and snatched them down, over my bottom, past my thighs and knees, to join my shorts that had now gathered, tangled at my ankles.
"AIEEEYAUGHAAAA! N-OOOOOOO!!!" I screamed my protest, and struggled more!
Pushing my t-shirt up to my underarms, he circled my lower back and waist with a vice-like clutch of his left arm, slanting my head and arms farther over his left leg and towards the back of him. My legs were dangling off the ground. 'Though heaving with sobs, I shuddered from the cooling evening air as I lay naked from my back to my ankles, across his knees. My flaming bottom was shifted higher, a target positioned for more harsh, battering strikes that teemed from his incredibly powerful, strong hand.
SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!!
That rough, stone-like hand resumed working every inch of my buttocks, thighs, inner buttock and thighs, and sit-spot where my bottom reaches my thighs!
SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!!
My butt was angry red, and hot to touch. I jumped and jumped in his secure grip each time a smack blistered my behind more. And I yelled and wailed, heaving and shaking, coughing and gagging through my strangling sobs. My sense of shame and disgrace were pushed to the background of the mounting concern over the affliction to my bottom by the fiery torch that was singeing me over and over. I was a captive, powerless mess in the jaws of this unceasing spanker.
"YEEEOWWW! OWW! OWW! OOOOAAA! YOWW! AIGUGHAAA! EEEYOW! OOOOO-Uh! NOOOAAA! ST-OP! NNNGH-UH! Puh-LEEZ! OOO-STOPSPANKING-uh! M-MEEEE! Uh-uh-uh! PLEEEEZ! ILBEGOOD! ILBEGOOD! ILBEGOOOOD! Ah-uh! N- NEVER! AIEEYAUGHAAA! OOOOOO-uh! uh! NEVERRRR! Uh! uh! GAIN! Ooooo-uh! PLEEZ! NNNNGHAA! Uh-augh-ah-uh-uh! RRRGHAUGH!! Uh-uh! Ooo-augh-uh-oooo!"
SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!! SMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACK!!
How could this guy, who had just administered a thorough spanking to Marty, seem to go on forever igniting my behind with an unending onslaught? But he did. I only howled and screamed through my snarled sobbing, kicking and writhing, bouncing and bucking.
I don't know when he stopped. After a while I suddenly realized that I was wailing and choking dangling over his knees, but he had finished my spanking. In fact, once again Brad shook his right hand in the cool air, trying to loosen and relieve it from the convincing use to which it twice had been put in the last hour or so. He reached over and pulled me up off his lap like a rag doll.
My face was drenched in tears, sweat, and mucous. With reddened eyes and disheveled hair, I was immediately jumping up and down, my hands plastered on my throbbing, flaming rearend. But my legs were too quivering and faltering in the tangle of my shorts and boxers to hold me. I fell forward on my face, releasing my hands just in time to break my fall. My bottom felt like it was smoking against the cool night air, and I sobbed on! He reached down under my naked abdomen, pulled me up, and tossed me hanging over his left shoulder. Now my fiery red bottom was to the left of his head, on display greeting Marty and anyone else he might encounter. My boxers and shorts, tangled around my boots, bound my feet and legs at the ankles.
"OOOOOOOOO! Aaugh! N-noooow-uh-WHAT?!" I sobbed my disbelief that more might be in store.
SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACK! He answered my with a fresh attack on my branded, blistered butt. "Be quiet, college boy, or you'll get a spanking double-header! Is that what you want, boy??"
"N-n-uh-NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I wailed.
"Keep quiet, then!" he barked. Let's get moving, Marty." he directed. Watching upside down, I saw the kid walk stiffly, just a bit ahead of Brad, as he hauled me along. As he toted me hanging suspended over his shoulder, I continued crying from the blitz he had administered to my bottom and pride. After about 25 more minutes, I had quieted down to silent, weeping sniffles. "Stop here, Marty," he ordered, and I saw that we were at the edge of a small, shallow mountain stream.
"I don't know which one of you needs this cooling brook more," he mused. "But I'm leaving you here to cool and soak, while you consider your bad behavior further. Hopefully, – for you, boy – this is the last time we see you again, and the last time you ever do that again! Or it won't be the last time I take you over my knees again! Understand, young man?!"
"Yeah-yeah! Y-YESSS!" I shot my answer to him with certainty and conviction.
"Good for you, then," he responded. Then reaching his arms under my t-shirt and bare rib cage, he lifted me up and off his shoulder. Placing his left arm under my legs, he quickly swung his right arm under my back, just below my arms. Then, cradling me like a baby in his arms, he walked over to the stream and wading slightly in, lowered me bottom first into the shallow, but rushing, icy water.
"AIEEEYIKES-ah-YEEEEOWWWW!!" I shrieked again as the frigid water seemed to rekindle the fire on my flaming behind. Then I fell backward completely into the creek waters. My head bobbed up, as my blistered butt bounced against the sharp stones on the creek bed. "OOOO-ah-WOWWWW!" I cried out again, and the tears that had scarcely subsided began cascading from my eyes again. I was sobbing again.
Reaching out to grab Marty's arm, Brad spun the boy around, swatted him – THWAAUMP! – on the throbbing seat of his Nikes, and began leading him forward.
"Let this be an additional lesson to you, kid! If a guy this much your senior can get the spanking he needs, you can count on receiving what you deserve! Got it, kid?!"
"OWW! Oooh-yeah! Er, . . . I mean, yes, sir!" Marty quickly corrected his answer.
Then leaving me immersed in the creek, still bawling, Brad and the well-spanked teenager hiked quickly on out of sight. Once I became adjusted to the freezing temperature of the stream, I lay back, letting it cool the inferno raging on my bottom. After a while, I pulled myself up and waddled out. Reaching down and slowly untangling my boxers and shorts, I gingerly pulled them up over my sore, raw butt. My boots were full of water, and I was soaked thoroughly.
It was several hours from the time I left Jesse at the campsite. Darkness had fallen. In the flickering, gleaming light of the burning campfire, I hobbled woodenly into camp. In the cool night air, I was shivering in my wet clothes.
"What happened to you? Where 'you been?" he interrogated me.
"Oh, ah-ah J-Jesse, Yu-you'll n-never believe-eve it. I got l-lost, ah-ah and th-then l-lost my f-footing and f-fell into-ah into-ah a creek," I lied as I stammered from the wet cold.
"What? How many years have we been hiking and backpacking together? How could that happen?"
"Uh-uh-I d-dunno," I stammered more, still concealing any hint of the truth.
"Well, anyway, there's still some supper left. Sit down by the fire and let it dry you off, while you eat."
"I-ah . . . ah-I think I'll j-just st-stand by the f-fire a wh-while," I replied as I took the plate he handed me to eat. After supper I improvised more: "It's been a long, hard – and unexpected – day. I'm going to get out of these wet clothes and get into my sleeping bag for the night." The warm food had soothed my irritated nerves and calmed my cold, wet shaking.
Jesse was such a good guy, trusting and accepting whatever you said or did. My conscience immediately began stabbing me for lying to him. I disappeared into the tent, swiftly pulling off my t-shirt and shorts – all without once sitting down. Then, bending over carefully and painfully, I untied and pulled off my soaked boots and socks, peeled down my doused boxers, and pulled on a clean pair of pajamas. After that, I wriggled on my stomach, feet first, into my sleeping bag. The heavy bag rubbing against my bruised butt was like burning salt on a raw wound. Softly, I winced and yelped. Then quickly I settled down, and within minutes was sound asleep.
I slept unusually long, not awakening until almost 9 a. m. the next morning. Jesse had been up for several hours, and had started coffee brewing on the fire. When I emerged from the tent, he asked me again what had happened while I had been gone so long.
"I got lost, and fell in a stream," I lied again. "Why?" A dagger from my conscience hit hard.
"Well, all during the night, you kept moaning and calling out in your sleep -- 'Stop it', 'no more', and other things. Sometimes you sounded like you were whimpering."
"I did? Wow! I dunno," I concealed. "Maybe I really got scared when I couldn't find my way back and then lost my footing and fell into the brook. You better stay close and keep an eye on me, I guess," I laughed nervously. But, in fact, that might be a good idea, just in case I ran into Brad again.
I was stiff and sore the rest of the spring-break hiking trip. Jesse noticed, and made a comment about me looking like I was hurting or limping, and slacking up a bit; but I couldn't tell him why. That senior-year, spring break turned out to be unforgettable, and I never succumbed to the temptation to eavesdrop or spy on anybody again!