“You’re such a faggot.” Jessica said to the camp director.
His jaw dropped.
“What?” He said.
“I said you’re such a faggot.” She said.
“What kind of language do you think you are using with me?” the camp director, a middle aged man with a beard and glasses said as he looked back at her.
“We all skipped the entire morning session. We ran off into the woods and you had no idea where we went, and all your doing is taking away permission to swim? You’re such a faggot.” She said, with a smart aleky teenage smirk on her face.
“You think you can just use that kind of language with me?” He barked back at her.
“What are gonna do? Take away swimming for the whole week! Oh how horrible.” She said, laughing to herself a bit.
“I just might.” He growled.
Then Jessica pulled a bright yellow piece of paper from the shirt pocket that was pierced in front of her left breast.
“So, my parents filled this form out, so you could take away swimming?” She said, smiling a bit.
He took the form away from her, and staired down at it. It was the corporal punishment authorization for. She had somehow gotten two copies of it, one to keep in her breast pocket. The other had been stored in her file, along with all the other campers who were required to sign it.
“This camp is affiliated with the New Congregational Baptist Refoundation Church…” He began.
“No shit.” Jessica responded.
“Language Jessica!” He shouted.
“Well, apparently this is just paper.” Jessica said mockingly. “Because you’ve got the form and the papers to do it, nobody is stopping you, but instead of busting our tails and making us beg for forgiveness, you are ‘taking away swimming.’”
The director looked at her speechless.
* * * *
Jessica made no bones about being “pro-spanking.” She had even told the people who sat with her at lunch about how she had recently broken up with her boyfriend, who was two years old than her.
“We went to the mall, and this little kid had stolen something from a store.” She said. “I said ‘if that were my kid he wouldn’t sit down for a week!’ But Josh was all ‘I don’t believe in hitting.’ What a loser. I want to date a real man!”
Jessica had also talked about how good it was that the camp had authorized corporal punishment.
“I wish they had it at my high school.” She said. “It would give me a reason not to forget my homework.”
It seemed when Jessica and her cabin full of girls had violated the rules, the response of the director had disappointed her.
Despite having initiated their collective truancy, she felt it deserved a much swifter response.
* * * *
“So…” Jessica demanded. “I take it since this is a theater camp, you’re some faggot democrat artsy guy who couldn’t possibly discipline a group of naughty girls!”
She shouted these words at him.
The camp director was shocked. It was apparent that Jessica wanted nothing more than a spanking.
He took a deep breathe and sighed.
“Come inside.” He said, as she walked into the directors cabin.
Drawing from his experience growing up in Alabama, with a strict single Mom, he put her across his knee.
Jessica smiled a bit, though she tried to suppress it.
He brought hit hand down hard on tan shorts. This hurt his hand. He slapped again, and then looked at how his hand seemed to glow red from hitting the rough material.
Jessica laughed, over his knee.
“Pull ‘em down.” She said. “I want a spanking, not a massage.”
The camp director reluctantly pulled her shorts and panties down, and began to slap away. He slapped her bottom a good fifty times. Jessica stood up, and though her face was somewhat red, she smiled.
“Thank you for being a man!” She said to him. “I’ll try my best to be good.”
Then, the director had a thought, and smiled even brighter “I’m sure you will.”
* * * * *
When lunch proceeded that day, before the meal was to begin, the director walked to the front of the room.
“Before we eat, there is something that needs to be taken care of.” He said, standing in the center of the dining hall, looking at all 100 or so of the campers.
“Some discipline needs to be handed out.” He said. All the students grew worried, recalling the yellow forms. But Jessica grew bright red.
“One camper decided that she needed to encourage her fellow campers to break the rules.” He said. “Well, I shall not tolerate this. And, at this camp we have a tradition. It’s called “lunchtime lickings.””
He called the cook from the kitchen. “Reggie! Reggie!”
The cook came in, carrying a large wooden paddle, with the camp logo on it.
The camp director went on.
“Jessica, would you please come to the front please.” The camp director said with a smile on his face.
Jessica’s face was bright red now.
“Not in front everyone! I won’t! I won’t!” She said with a look of panic on her face.
“NOW!” Screamed the instructor.
She silently marched to the front of the hall.
“Jessica broke the rules!” He announced. “Now, she will pay. We shall count in unison to fifty. Lucky for Jessica, because she’s a girl, she gets to keep her shorts up. Remember that, boys.”
Jessica walked to the front of the hall more terrified than ever before in her life. This hadn’t been part or fantasy.
She leaned over a folding chair.
“Any campers who don’t count with me can join her.” Said the director.
He then pulled back the oaken instrument of correction. He gave the first of the “lunchtime licks.”
“One!” Screamed the crowd.
“Two!” Screamed the crowd.
Jessica was already crying. She was very, very sorry now that she had tested the directors authority.