Spanked at a Nudist Camp
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 19 Aug 2007
My family were casual social nudists. Mom and Dad didn't go around naked at home. But my two younger brothers and I had no problem staying bare after we took our evening showers. We would lie tummy down on the family room carpet watching TV, with our hands under our chins – propped up on pillows – without a stitch of clothing on. During the warm months, we often chose to go to bed that way. I learned to enjoy sleeping naked on top of the covers during summer nights.
When we took our occasional trips to nearby nudist camps, it was a family affair – not just for us, but for everyone there. While you would think it would be tough for a naked kid to get embarrassed at a nudist camp, I sure found a way to do it!
The summer I was 11 – and a bit small for my age – my two younger siblings were eight and nine years old. It was the Fourth of July weekend and we were joining other families at a local nudist camp.
Fireworks there were a big no-no for kids then... for obvious reasons, plus the surrounding woods were unusually dry that year. It really was a major transgression! I had already forgotten that I had given my little brothers some firecrackers the day before and figured they would use theirs in our backyard like I planned to do later.
I was happily skinnydipping in the pool with friends, when we all heard POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! Needless to say, the noise attracted the attention of many adults and children. In a few minutes, my bare little bros were being led, by the arm – and in tears – to my mother, who was lounging at the pool side.
My mom was shocked to learn they were the culprits of the disturbance. I couldn't believe they were dumb enough to bring the firecrackers to the camp! I stood in waist deep water waiting with great anticipation and satisfaction of what I knew would happen next.
Mom laid her towel over her lap and directed the naughty boys be placed tummy down on top of the towel. They were skinny kids, so they fit just nicely side-by-side in that vulnerable position. In seconds, Mom was tattooing their bare little butts briskly with her hand. She alternated cheeks with each swat. I was thrilled watching their buttocks get redder and redder with each stinging smack. Their howling caused others – mostly children – to gather around for the show. But it also attracted the attention of our father, who showed up just as Mom was finishing and putting my sore bottomed brothers on their feet.
Once Dad was informed what they had done, he demanded to know where they had gotten the firecrackers from. As I climbed my bare self out of the pool, my sobbing brothers pointed – in unison – at me. Dad glared at me -- believing I had brought the firecrackers to the camp and then distributed them to my brothers. I just stood there... dripping wet... frozen in time and fear. My father grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to the nearest chair. He quickly threw a towel across his lap, then yanked me over it.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK SMACK! SMACK!
Water droplets flew from my unprotected rear end, as the air was filled with the timeless sounds of a bare bottom boy spanking. Dad spanked harder, faster, and longer than Mom. I bucked and flailed my legs with each sound swat. The wetness of my smooth lil' rump just accentuated the sting! I was howling in rhythm with each smack... in front of all my friends and a growing audience of adults and children!
Maybe seeing nude eight and nine year olds getting spanked together by their mommy was cute. But I was a naked 11 year old, with his skinny buttocks hoisted up, for one darn good licking in front of everyone! The spanking paused momentarily and I could have sworn that flames were dancing across my roasted rump. Then all of a sudden....
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
My head shot up and I bellowed as a new fire was lit down where my hot little bottom met the back of my thighs – my very tender "sit spots" — which had aready received a great deal of attention from Dad's large hand. Unbeknownst to me, some devious girl had dashed off to the nearby game room to fetch one of the ping pong paddles. My dad had gladly accepted the implement and put it to good use for the grand finale. Unlike the hand spanking, which was rapid fire, the paddling was administered quite deliberately, so that the sting from each swat would definitely be felt.
Finally, Dad decided I had enough. I was planted by on my feet with tears streaming from my eyes. My hands immediately flew to my blazing bottom and I tried franctically to rub the incredible sting from my fanny. I did the fire dance that all well spanked boys do... to the amusement of other kids. Being naked already left no way to cover up the fact that I had been soundly spanked. My bros... being the little guys they were... immediately returned to playing without any regard to their pink hineys. But mine was bright red and my "sit spots" were fiery red.
The best I could do was gingerly ease my throbbing rear into a sitting position in one of the churning whirlpools. I winced mightily in doing so. I spent most of the rest of the day there.
Some of the guys teased me, but the girls just gave me sympathetic looks. Grown ups in the whirlpool regaled me with tales of whoopings they had gotten as kids, or how they tanned their own kids' bare butts. Several men commented I got the licking I deserved. I think a few wanted to give me an encore then and there. I was miserable.
When it was time to go home, my brothers' little behinds had faded back to their original color. Mine was still a shade of rosy pink. The rest of my family got dressed, but I chose to just lay naked – on my tummy with a tingling bottom – in the back of our van for the trip home.