Today a sorority tale but with no illustrations. Sorry. I’m posting from my hospital bed.
“Oh yeah,” said Misty. “I used to go to this summer camp for girls. I was sixteen and in sort of a senior cabin. Cabin 12. Our counselors were juniors and seniors from the university, so they were about five years older. There were three other senior cabins and we were all highly competitive with each other. You know, who won the most at swimming races, who were the best horseback riders, things like that. We got into a real fierce rivalry with cabin 18, one of the other senior cabins. We even competed on cabin inspections. You got points for having the best cabin and we all had chores assigned, so if you got dinged at inspection it was because someone failed to do their job. At first the other girls would just make sure you got scolded for missing some dust or whatever, but as the summer went on, the competition heated up. Our counselors were getting into it too. They wanted to win. Our counselor was a girl from State named Jennifer Johnston. She was a Phys Ed major—real pretty girl, a solid, tall athletic blonde who worked out all the time and was a water safety instructor. Her counterpart at cabin 18 was Claire Carson, a tall and voluptuous dark haired girl who mostly taught horseback riding. They were known as JJ and CC to all the girls and they didn’t like each other very much.”
“I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by what came next because of what happened on my birthday,” Misty continued.
“What did your birthday have to do with anything?” asked Joyce.
“Nothing, really, but it revealed a lot about Jen. Anyway, I had a birthday during the camp session and I told everybody, and I was all excited. Our cabin was going to get a cake at supper. Now, at this camp we had an outdoor shower facility. Typically you put on a big towel or a robe and walked up to the showers. So on my birthday I walked up there as usual, just before supper, and took a shower. When I got back to the cabin, all of my cabin mates, there were six of us to a cabin, were there and standing inside. They were all dressed and were just standing there grinning at me. Jen was seated in a chair in the middle of the cabin. And then everyone shouted ‘happy birthday!’ and Jen grinned and said, ‘and what happens on birthdays?’ and everybody shouted ‘birthday spanking!’. They were all laughing, but before I could blink they ripped off my towel. I was stark naked underneath. Then Jen grabbed me and pulled me down, right over her knee, just like some naughty schoolgirl. I was mortified beyond belief, but everyone else thought it was great fun. There I was, just squirming and wiggling over Jen’s lap, but Jen was strong and I couldn’t get up. She rubbed her hand around on my bottom, patting it and said, ‘how old is Misty today?’ Somebody said ‘seventeen,’ and Jen said ‘seventeen it is.’
“The next thing I felt was this crisp smack! from Jen’s hand on my bare behind. Everybody said, ‘one!’. Then another smack, then another. All the while my cabin mates are counting. The smacks stung. She spanked one cheek, then the other. Sometimes right square across the middle. I was struggling and yelping, but to no avail. The spanks just kept coming as Jen worked her way up to seventeen. My behind was burning hot. I could see the absolute glee on my friends’ faces as I got the birthday spanking of a lifetime as they counted….smack! ‘fifteen’…smack!….’sixteen’….smack!…’seventeen’. Finally I got the last ‘one to grow on’, which was harder by far than the others, by the way, and Jen let me go. They were all laughing as I jumped up in the nude and danced around rubbing my bottom which must have been ten shades of red.
“It turns out that the birthday spanking was a camp tradition and a couple of other girls had birthdays that Summer too. Anyway, back to the rivalry.
“The camp director who ran everything was a big blonde matronly woman in her forties named Dottie Findlay. Every morning we had cabin inspection and she’d come though inspecting cabins one by one. We stood by our bunks while she looked around and made sure everything was ship shape. If she found dust or grime or things out of place you got dinged for it.
“So one day Dottie came though and we lost points because the walk in front wasn’t swept. Donna Sanders was supposed to have done it, but she’d been yakking and fooling around before inspection and it didn’t get done. Everybody was mad at Donna and we all started in on her. It got pretty heated but Jen stepped in and said, ‘Girls, there’s a better way to handle this.’ And she pulled out her sorority paddle from her locker. She let us pass it around and hold it. It was a maple paddle, about eighteen inches long, four inches wide and three fourths of an inch thick. She said from now on if we all agreed, whoever caused us to lose points would get swats. She would decide how many and her decision would be final. She said if we really wanted to win, this would keep us on our toes.
“We all gaped at the paddle and understood the implication, but in the end we agreed. We’d do whatever it took to win. Even Donna, who was in the soup for that morning said yes. Jen said, ‘Ok, if you all agree. We’ll institute a system and I’ll dish out paddle swats for anything that causes us to lose points.’ Then she addressed Donna and told her that she was ‘it’ and that she should get three swats for the messy walk. We closed the cabin door and Jen told Donna to bend over and grab the steel frame of the bunk. We gathered around to watch, and the tension was really thick in that closed cabin. Donna was nervous, but she bent over. It made her butt stick out in her little camp shorts. Jen stood to her left and carefully lined up the paddle. “She tapped a time or two then reared back and smacked her with the paddle right on the center of her bottom. It made a loud pop! And Donna hissed and jerked her head back. Then pop! Pop! Jen laid on two more swats, hard, about ten seconds apart. Donna stood up and rubbed frantically and hopped from foot to foot. Her eyes were as big as saucers. She said, ‘Oh yeah, girls. That hurts.’
“And that came to be our method for dealing with mistakes that lost us points. If you didn’t do your job right, if you came in last at anything—it was swats. Usually the bill was three but it could be as high as six. Six would leave a girl blinking back tears.
“Wow,” said Joyce. “How often and when did you get it?”
“If it was an inspection, right after. Otherwise, just before bed the day of the event. Sometimes you had to wait a day or two. Staff meetings and other duties would take Jen away from time to time. That was the worst, I think, having to wait for a day, knowing that when Jen had time it would be bottoms up for the paddle. And it got worse. At bedtime we were in tops and panties or shorty PJ’s which were even less protection. When you bent over and grabbed the bunk, there was frequently just one thin layer of nylon between you and that paddle. Some girls started wearing thicker PJ’s. So in order to make things perfectly fair, Jen said all paddlings should be bare, that that was how her college sorority did it. We reluctantly agreed. So from then on it was panties down when you bent over to take your licks. It was so embarrassing to have to drop your panties to your knees. We came to dread that command, ‘ok, take your panties down and bend over.’
“Bare, it really, really stung. A smack on the bare bottom with a wooden paddle felt like a brand of fire. It was fascinating to watch, as long as you were not getting it. The first time someone got it bare it was a girl named Sarah Blake. She had been given a demerit at gym for poor sportsmanship. Demerits subtracted points from your cabin’s total, so that was really bad. So that night at bedtime Jen announced, ‘Six swats, Sarah.’ Everyone else agreed. It had really hurt our chances. So Sarah stood at the head of her bunk and slid her panties down. She was a honey haired blonde, a little beauty. When she bent over her cute little bottom cheeks stuck out in the most adorable way. But then Jen took up her stance and patted her butt lightly. She clenched up but Jen told her it hurt more that way. Then Jen swung the paddle and it hit with a sharp crack! Sarah’s bottom cheeks wobbled with the impact and she sucked her breath in with a ‘hss….ahh’ sound and stamped her feet. A few seconds later a red band rose on her skin. We watched breathlessly as Sarah took her licks. Each swat took maybe fifteen or twenty seconds because she had to calm down and resume her position after each one. I mean at each swat she’d howl and jerk straight up and clap her hands to her bottom cheeks. Jen just waited, but after a few seconds told her she had to resume the position and stick it out. Then she’d line up again, bring her arm back and crack! the paddle would smack Sarah’s bottom. It was like that through all six swats and I know she struggled to take her paddling.
After that Jen had to say that you had to stay bent over or get an extra. No one wanted that and everybody tried their best to stay down for their licks.
“After that everyone redoubled their efforts. Every now and then, though, somebody had to take their panties down and bend over for swats. I know I did a couple of times. Once I got three and another time four and both times it hurt like blazes. Fran Breck, a real cute brunette, got it the most. But she had the butt for it—a real round fleshy bubble of a fanny. And boy did it wobble when Jen tanned it. We all yelped and did a little dance when that paddle toasted our bare fannies.
“The competition kept getting hotter between us and cabin 18. And we found out something else. They had taken our lead and had instituted their own discipline system as an incentive to win. Their cabin counselor, CC, brought a wide harness strap down from the stables. Her girls had to take their pants down and get face down on the bed over pillows and take up to six licks with the harness strap. They later said it stung like fire too and we wondered whose was worse. We were about to find out.
“I don’t know who first concocted the idea of sabotage but someone did, and we managed to find ways to screw up cabin 18 so they would lose points. Britney Sayers dumped some dirt on their porch just after Dottie had gone in for inspection and when she came out she figured she had missed it the first time and dinged them. They knew we did it, though and they retaliated. It got to be a war. One night things came to a head. After lights out cabin 18 snuck out and raided us. They hit us with talcum powder bombs, making a big mess.
“Now the thing is, Jen was there and she got hit too. And she was mad. She figured there was no way this could have happened without CC being in on it. So we plotted revenge. That same night we made water bombs with some balloons that someone had. Then at about three in the morning we snuck out and tossed our water balloons in their windows. Well, they started shrieking and yelling and next thing you know lights are coming on all over the camp. Before long, here comes Dottie and she is steaming mad. JJ and CC are mad at each other and us girls in cabin 12 are screaming at the girls in cabin 18.”
“I guess you were all in trouble,” said Joyce.
“Not only us, JJ and CC too. Nothing happened right away, but the very next day all of us were summoned to the director’s house where Dottie lived. Dottie was there with the assistant director, another woman in her forties everyone called Aunt Betty. They marched us all out to this shed in back of the house, kind of an equipment shed where stuff was stored in the winter. It was a big metal shed with a concrete floor and it was all cleared out in the middle. Except that there were two of these tall narrow type sawhorses set up side by side. We were all really nervous, as you can guess. I didn’t like the looks of the whole thing, not one bit.
“Dottie started off by telling us that what ordinarily would happen is, we would be sent home, that the kind of fight we started was totally unacceptable, and it was grounds for terminating our camp session. But, she said, she’d had a talk with both JJ and CC and that she knew and understood how things had got to that point. She also said that she had been told about our pact on discipline. Then came the bomb. Anyone could walk out of there with five demerits for the fight, she said. She understood that girls will be girls and highly competitive, but there had to be discipline. But—in lieu of demerits any girl could take eight swats. The catch was it was to be administered by the other cabin’s counselor. ‘And it will be on the bare butt, girls; and if you get up before it’s done, the demerits will be applied anyway,’ she added. She pulled out JJ’s paddle and CC’s harness strap and placed one on each sawhorse. ‘You decide, girls,’ she said, and stepped outside.
“For minute we were just in shock. Then we started talking. Cabin 18 was talking too. We were eyeing that strap and it looked wicked. But no one wanted to be the coward that cost us five demerits. In the end we made a pact. We would all take our licks. Let those floozies from cabin 18 be cowards about it. So when Dottie came back in we told her what we had decided. Each of us would step up and take licks with the strap. To our surprise cabin 18’s girls decided the same.
“So Dottie said, ‘all right, CC, you and JJ come up here and take over. They did. JJ said, ‘ok, who wants to go first?’ and one of their girls stepped up and stood at the sawhorse. JJ told her to take her shorts and panties down and get over the horse. Meanwhile CC motioned toward us, and one of us, I think Cyn Lawler, this cute little pixie of a girl stepped up to the other sawhorse and skinned down her shorts. Since it was the other cabin’s girls, both CC and JJ really laid it on. CC brought her arm back over her shoulder and let fly with that strap will a full sweep of her arm. JJ did the same with the paddle. The crack! of the strap and paddle sounded deafening in that shed, like firecrackers going off. As the strokes of the strap were delivered one by one, Cyn’s little bottom quivered and got red as a beet; and she really squealed as CC whipped her fanny but good. The girl from 18, Yvonne something, yelped frantically too as the paddle turned her butt the color of a ripe tomato, but neither got up before their eight.
“Wow,” said Brina. “I’ll bet that really hurt when it came your turn.”
“Listen, the whipping I got with that strap was worse than anything I ever got at the Kappa house. The sting was unbelievable. I thought I’d never hold on for eight licks. We had to bend over the sawhorse and grab the crossbar in front. This meant that your bottom was arched over the top. I never felt so vulnerable, having my bare ass upended like that. I held on for dear life, but when I felt the licks from that strap, I practically screamed. It was white hot fire searing your fanny. In the end we were a sight, a dozen girls hopping around crying and wailing and rubbing our bottoms like mad. It was quite the old country style licking.”
“But that wasn’t the end of it. When it was over, Dottie told us she hoped we’d learned our lesson. Then we heard her tell JJ and CC that she wanted to see them both right back here after lights out. Well both our counselors kind of went white, I mean, all the color drained out of their faces. But they just said ‘yes, ma’am’ and we all went back to the cabin. There was a lot of chatter, I’m sure, as to why we were all sitting on pillows at supper that night. But what we really wondered was what was going on with CC and JJ. A couple of us were determined to see. So after lights out me and Cyn and Sarah snuck out and followed JJ.
“We made our way in the dark to the shed and crawled down on our stomachs. We could see through cracks in the siding. The lights were on in the shed and Dottie and Aunt Betty were there. CC and JJ looked like naughty school kids while Dottie reamed them out for letting the whole cabin war thing get out of hand. She said she ought to fire them and send them home too, but she’d thought about it and since she’d given us the choice, she’d give them one too. They could each take twelve licks, she said, bare bottom. Six with the paddle and six with the strap, so they’d know what each one felt like. CC and JJ got these sick looks on their faces but we could see they were going to do it.
“We watched breathlessly as JJ and CC stepped up to the sawhorses. They unfastened their shorts and slid them down. The panties followed. Both girls had great figures. They were tall and well built college seniors. JJ was more slender, CC more voluptuous, but both girls had round, firm, and well shaped bottoms on them. I had to admit we all had this sick feeling of anticipation now seeing our counselors about to get it. Dottie picked up JJ’s paddle and Aunt Betty took up CC’s harness strap. Dottie measured up for a swat and brought the paddle back. She gave it a full swing. The paddle whooshed through the air and landed with an ear splitting smack. JJ hissed. Her bottom jiggled. Then it was Aunt Betty’s turn. The strap cracked across CC’s behind and left a red stripe. Then it was Dottie again with the paddle. She lined up and planted another hard paddle swat On JJ’s bottom. JJ let out a soft yeow! Trying to stifle it but we knew how bad it burned. Then she stepped back so that Aunt Betty could swing that strap and paint another red stripe across CC’s fanny. It was a loud tanning they were getting with the sharp smacks of the paddle and the thwacks of the strap, not to mention the girls’ vocal reactions.
For the next five minutes at least the two directors alternated giving their charges paddle swats and licks with the strap. Both CC and JJ yelped and squirmed around. They stamped their feet on the floor, humped up and down, and gasped in pain as stripe after stripe, smack after smack literally painted their bottoms red. In the end they were pleading for Dottie and Aunt Betty to go easier on them. But Dottie said no, they were going to get it good and hard if they wanted to stay on. So the girls just had to grin and bear it. When it was over, when they had each been given twelve licks or swats, they were tearfully rubbing their behinds and stamping around, trying to rub the sting out.”
“Whew,” said Donna. “Is it hot in here? That’s some story. Who won? How did it come out?”
“Oh,” said Misty. “Nobody. Both cabins disqualified.”
“Oh, geez,” said Gwen. “All that for nothing.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Misty with a grin. “It sure was an interesting Summer.”
Donna looked at her watch. “Whew girls, we’ve got to go. But let’s get together before we all leave town, all right?”
All agreed and Donna added with a wicked grin, “And Gwen, we’re going to have to do something about you telling our secrets, you know. I think we need to reconstitute the Kappa Court. What do you say girls?”
Misty and Brina grinned. “Can we make Joyce an honorary member?”
“Oh, surely,” said Donna.
“Well, I’ll donate my place then,” said Joyce. “Tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night,” they all said in unison, looking at Gwen who looked worried.