Joey

Joey 8

By Red Rover

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Joey Goes to Camp, Chapter 8.
Setting: Glenview Heights, a middle class housing development outside a small Midwestern city. Time – late 1960’s.
Characters: The Worden Family – Mother: Agatha, age 41 (divorced), Children: Mary (14), Joey, (13) and Cathy (12)
Characters at Camp Ronamoc:
Boy Campers: Jeff (13), Billy (11), Matt (12), David (11)
Girl Campers: Debbie Baxter (14), Francine (13), Melody (15), Teri (15), Alexa (11), Molly (10), Jean (10), Denise (12)

Counselors: Cathy (20), Lisa (18), Becky (17), Elisa (16) Mandy (15)

Becky and Elisa frog-marched a feebly struggling Jeff over to an armless wooden chair near the front of the room. Becky then flipped the boy over her left knee and pinned his legs with her right. This left his plump bare bottom fully exposed and elevated in a perfect spanking position. The tall girl then brought her had down with a vigorous SMACK on his right cheek. This was followed by another resounding SMACK on his left cheek as Jeff yelped in pain and outrage. A GIRL was spanking his bare bottom in the presence of a group of other teen girls and four younger boys! Becky continued the spanking at a moderate pace as Jeff’s threats and curses turned into moans and, finally, into pleas for mercy.

“Please stop spanking me,” he blubbered. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

The other four boys stood frozen in dismay as the merciless older girl continued her brisk assault on Jeff’s hitherto unblemished bottom cheeks, which were now turning a bright red. Finally, she paused, resting her hand on the boy’s hot, quivering bottom cheeks.

“Are you sorry for being such a naughty little boy?” she inquired in the tone a mother might use with an errant three-year-old.

“Y-y-yes.” The boy sobbed. “Please, stop. It hurts so-o-o much.”

SMACK! “Well then tell me that your sorry for being a naughty little boy and thank me for spanking you.” The girl said patiently, “and call me ‘Miss Becky.”’

“I-I-I’m sorry for being a naughty little b-b-boy, Miss Becky,” the boy whimpered, “And thank you for spanking me.”

Becky grinned and patted his sore bottom, making him jump in anticipation, while the other girls giggled. “Very well said, little man, you are learning. But I think we need to reinforce the lesson just a bit. You are thirteen years old, right?”

“Yes, Miss Becky,” the boy said contritely.

“Well, I have always believed in age-appropriate punishment for wayward little boys, so I think thirteen firm smacks with the hairbrush should make JUST the right impression on your chubby little bottom, don’t you agree?

Knowing there was no “right” answer to a question like that, the flustered boy could only stammer, “Y-y-yes, M-m-miss Becky.”

“Or maybe we should double it to twenty-six? That would make a stronger impression on your little friends, wouldn’t it?”

Jeff swallowed hard. “Thirteen sounds just right, Miss Becky.”

Becky pretended to think it over. “Why don’t we just spilt the difference and make it an even twenty?” she said teasingly. “See, I’m willing to compromise, you should thank me for that.”

Jeff sniffled and thought frantically, but he could see no option to agreeing to the “compromise.” “Twenty will be just fine, Miss Becky,” he choked out.

“Well, I am glad that we are both happy with the number. That makes it ever so much better that we can agree on things.” Becky smiled as the other girls giggled again.

OK, Becky, here’s your favorite hairbrush,” Mandy said, handing Becky a very large wooden hairbrush – making sure that Jeff got a good view of it as she passed it over. “You should feel honored Jeffie-boy. This hairbrush has warmed the bare bottoms of hundreds of naughty little boys over the years. Now little bits of your skin will mix with those of all those precious little rascals. Your bottom is about to become a part of history!”

Jeff groaned, but could think of no appropriate response. Nor, apparently, was one required or expected. He could only let out a high-pitched screech as the heavy brush smacked down in the center of his already sore left buttock. Becky delivered the nineteen subsequent strokes slowly to let the maximum effect of each spank sink in before the next one. Jeff could only squirm, yelp, howl and sob as the merciless brush ravaged his battered bottom.

Finally, it was over and the exhausted boy could only lie limply across the tall girl’s knees, his howls and cries having given way to spasms of sobbing and moaning. Tears, drool, snot and seat dripped from his tear-ravaged face and puddled on the linoleum floor.

Mandy and Lisa helped the quivering boy to his feet and guided him into the nearest corner where he stood with his face in his hands, displaying his red bottom with blue-black bruises for all to see. Becky stood up, stretched and looked around the room.

“Well, I see you other little urchins have made a little progress,” she said, looked at the four naked boys. “Now it’s time to get all your clothes into your plastic bags so we can turn them in to the laundry room. Just make sure they have the right names on them. I’ll take care of little Jeffie’s bag, he seems to be pre-occupied at the moment.”

The boys scrambled to get their clothing stowed in the proper bags and put the bags onto a large table in the back of the room. Becky tossed Jeff’s bag onto the pile and addressed the two younger girls. “OK, you girls take it from here. Give the boys time to use the potty and issue out their dog-tags. Bring them out into the main room in twenty minutes.”

Mandy pointed out the single toilet seat in an alcove off the main room. “You can all do your pee-pees and poo-poos now. Take turns and no horseplay.”

There was no door to the tiny room, but all five boys were able to empty their bowels and bladders, albeit Jeff winced and squealed a bit when his sore bottom touched the seat. When they were all done, Mandy produced a bunch of chains, each with a small metal medallion attached to it.

“These are your identification tags,” she said. “You will wear them around your necks all the time from now on. One side has your first name or nickname and the other has your camper number.”

Joey noted that his tag said “JOEY” on one side and “J482” on the other. He looped it over his head so the tag dangled just above his hairless chest.

The girls lined up the five naked boys in front of the door at the back of the changing room. In a few minutes, there was a knock on the other side of the door and the boys were escorted through into a medium-size gymnasium. On the other side of the gym was a group of a dozen or so fully clothed girls, dressed in shorts and T-shirts of various colors. Every boy instinctively tried to cover up his exposed penis and balls.

Cathy laughed. “Now, boys, no need for false modesty. Every girl in camp will be seeing your pathetic little wee-wees soon enough. Keep your hands at your sides or on top of your head so the girls can get a good look.”

Several of the girls giggled, but they all stared at the sight. Few had seen a boy their own age naked, let alone five at once. Joey spotted Debbie at the end of the line, wearing a blue shirt and shorts. Her face reflected a combination of excitement as she looked at the other naked boys and dismay as she met Joey’s eyes.

“Now before we do anything more,” Cathy announced, “There is one little ceremony that we need to practice.”

Boys and girls alike looked apprehensive.

“OK boys, turn around and face the back wall so your bottoms face toward the girls.” The tall girl directed. “Now spread your legs apart, bend over and hold your bottom cheeks apart so the girls can get a good look at them.”

The boys complied reluctantly. Now all the girls could see their most private parts. This was humiliating enough, but they suspected that what would come next would be worse. And it was.

Mandy stood at the end of the line of girls holding a small bucket and a package of baby wipes.

“You all know, of course, that little boys are not very good at keeping themselves clean,” Cathy smirked. “So, since you boys will be running around bare bottomed for the next two months, we have to make sure you don’t carry any nasty old germs around and leave them in places where other people might sit or lie down.”

“You on the end, Debbie, isn’t it? Take the package of baby wipes and come over here,” pointing to Joey. “Next girl, Francine? Take the bucket and follow Debbie.”

Debbie and Francine, who was also dressed all in blue, took their tools and walked over next to where Joey was posed lewdly with all his secrets blatantly on display. Joey felt his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment and shut his eyes to pretend that there weren’t a dozen pair of young female eyes gazing on his exposed hitherto private parts.

“OK, Debbie,” Mandy directed. “Take one of the baby wipes and wipe Joey’s bottom crack thoroughly and show us the wipe cloth.”

“I’m sorry, Joey,” Debbie whispered. “I didn’t know it would be like this. This is my first time here and they never told us about this either. I feel really bad about treating you this way.”

“It’s OK, Deb,” Joey whispered back. “Just do what you have to do, I’ve been through worse.”

“I’m sorry, too, Joey,” Francine whispered in turn.

“Hey, no talking, you guys.” Cathy growled. “That’s going to cost you ten, little boy. Step aside, girls.”

Cathy was holding a large wooded spanking paddle. She brushed the two younger girls aside and smacked Joey hard on his bare bottom. Joey yelped and almost stood up. The older girl gave him nine more sharp smacks, alternating between cheeks, by which time Joey was sobbing loudly from the pain and humiliation.

“That will teach you boys to obey orders and speak only when spoken to.” Cathy said, menacingly. “The slightest sign of disobedience will result in immediate punishment. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss Cathy,” came from all five boys.

“Good. Now that we have clarified that, we can resume,” Cathy stepped back. “Debbie, go ahead and wipe Joey’s butt crack and show us the wipe cloth.”

Debbie whimpered a bit, but then bent to the task, running the damp cloth all over Joey’s bottom crack and presenting the cloth to Cathy.

“Very good,” Cathy said grudgingly, “At least this child has learned to keep himself fairly clean. But we need to be thorough. Take another wipe, Debbie and wrap it around your forefinger. Now poke it up into Joey’s anus into his rectum and rotate it around a few times so we can be sure there are no little bits of poop waiting to come out.”

Joey winced as Debbie’s finger penetrated into his rectum and moved around tentatively.

“Go a bit deeper, Debbie,” Cathy instructed. “Try to get your whole finger inside him and wiggle it around as much as you can.”

Debbie sighed, but complied and Joey felt a surge of arousal that competed with the pain for his attention. He realized that he was getting an erection in spite of the humiliating conditions.

“Good girl,” Cathy said approvingly. “You can pull your finger out and drop the cloth into the bucket. Melody, come up here and take the bucket. Francine, take the baby wipes. Debbie go back into the line.”

As Debbie started back to her former position, Cathy stopped her. “You know that we don’t spank girls here,” she said. “But I can see that you like Joey, so I am warning you. If you mess up in any way, I will take the skin off Joey’s plump little bottom and make you watch. Understood?’

Her eyes full of unshed tears, Debbie could only nod and respond, “Yes Miss.”

Francine and Melody, who was dressed all in green, continued on to the next boy, Jeff. Jeff winced a bit as his already sore bottom was probed by Francine, but he also passed the test and was spared further pain.

The next boy, Matt, was not so lucky. Melody’s initial wiping produced some noticeable brown stains on the wiper cloth.

Cathy shook her head in mock disgust. “My goodness, we have a very nasty little boy here who can’t even keep his bottom clean. That, young man, calls for an immediate spanking. Lisa!”
Lisa dragged a straight chair out onto the gym floor as Mandy guided the frightened boy over to her. Lisa guided Matt over her left leg, pinned his legs with her right leg and reached out to Cathy for the paddle.

Lisa did not bother with a warm-up, but proceeded to deliver a series of hard smacks to Matt’s quivering bottom with the paddle. The 12-year-old squirmed, yelped and pleaded for mercy, but the pace was unrelenting and he was soon howling in pain. There was no counting, Lisa simply spanked his tender bottom until it was bright red with blue-grey splotches, and the boy was draped limply over her lap, bawling furiously.

Mandy helped the sobbing boy to his feet and guided him back to his place between Jeff and Billy. At her direction, he resumed his humiliating pose and awaited whatever fate had in store.

Cathy pointed to another green-clad girl. “Teri, go get that blue bucket next to the door.”

Teri complied and brought the blue bucket over to Cathy. It contained about a quart of warm soapy water and a small scrub brush. “OK, Teri, take the scrub brush and give this nasty little boy a thorough scrubbing all over his bottom crack. I want to see his whole bottom crack bright pink. Mandy, hold his head between your legs so he doesn’t squirm away. “

Teri started scrubbing somewhat tentatively, but Cathy wasn’t satisfied. “Scrub harder, girl, I want this naughty little boy to feel what it means to have a good ass-scrubbing. When you’re done, I want to see bright pink skin from the top of his crack to the base of his balls.”

Teri scrubbed more vigorously while Matt screamed in pain. At some point, he lost control and a dribble of urine came out of his penis and made a small puddle on the floor.

“Now that’s REALLY disgusting.” Cathy shook her head. “I should make you lap up every drop of that. But the nurse would be upset so you can get away with it this time. Lisa, get me one of those mini-tampons.”

When Lisa returned with the small bundle, Cathy carefully inserted it into Matt’s rectum, leaving the strings dangling. “Now he won’t be pooping all over the place.”

The inspection continued, with Billy and David, the two 11-year-olds, receiving passing grades to the relief of both the boys and the new girls, some of whom were feeling a bit dismayed over the activities of the past hour and its implications.

Cathy the assembled the newbies into two lines, boys on one side and girls on the other. “Boys, sit on the floor, those of you who can,” she said with a malicious grin. Girls, sort yourself into groups by the colors of your uniforms. I need to make sure that everybody understands what the various colors mean so everybody knows what their status is.”

First, of course, boys are always naked. They have no status at all. Alexa, Jean, Molly and Denise are wearing reddish-orange uniforms. They are the “Robins” formally called “Primaries.” They are usually between 8 and 11 and in grades 3-6. They are just campers and have no authority over boys or other girls. “

“Francine and Debbie are wearing blue uniforms and are called “Bluebirds” formally known as “Juniors.” They are mostly between 12 and 14 and in grades 7-9. Bluebirds have some limited authority over boys and Robins. Bluebirds can spank boys, but only with their hands and small paddles. But a Bluebird wearing a gold shirt or blouse is a junior counselor and has full authority over boys, Robins and other Bluebirds.

“Melody and Teri are wearing green uniforms and are known as “Greenies” formally called Seniors.
Seniors are usually between 15 and 17 and in grades 10-12. Seniors have authority over boys, Robins and Bluebirds. Seniors with gold shirts are senior counselors and have authority over other Greenies as well. Becky, Elisa and Mandy are Senior Counselors.

Girls wearing khaki uniforms are Prefects, also known as “Grads.” Grads range in age from 18 to 23 and are usually college students. Most Grads will wear Gold shirts and khaki shorts. Grads have authority over all the other girls and boys in the camp. There are some Grads who are in administrative positions and don’t wear gold shirts. They are basically on the same level as Greenies.

There are some exceptions. A girl who is not mature enough to fit into the group indicated by her age or year of school may be placed in a lower level group. We have two 16-year-olds who are still Bluebirds, for example. A couple years ago, there was a 17-year-old who was demoted to Robin – but that is rare.

There are, of course, a number of adults managing the camp. They don’t usually wear uniforms, although some of the younger ones may wear khakis. Almost all of them are women. The people who run this camp believe strongly in female authority. We do have 5-6 cowboys who help with the horses and mend fences. They are all over 40, so don’t get any ideas. All of them have kids older than we are. Other than that, we have an occasional plumber, carpenter or electrician who comes in to do specific jobs. None of the men live in the camp.”

“So, if there are no questions, we can break for dinner.”

End of Part 8

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