The girl sitting at the campground registration desk looked a little confused as I explained what I was looking for in a campsite, but was happy to point me in the right direction. I explained I'd brought my wife and a good friend, and we wanted the most secluded spot available. She sent us off to the back of the campground to a little spot on the edge of the woods. The closest neighboring tent was probably 30 yards away. Dave nodded his approval of the site, and I got to work.
"Be careful with the food this time, boy", David warned me. "I don't want a bunch of soggy bread and broken eggs this time."
"Yes sir" I said, lowering my head just a little.
"Have fun honey" Jen added, with a sweet but condescending smile. "We'll be back in a little while."
And with that they were off to explore the area. Jen's bottom wiggled tantalizingly in her tight jeans as she walked beside Dave to get the bikes off the rack. As they rode off, laughing about something or other, I looked again into the back of the car. I had a lot of work ahead of me.
When Jen and Dave rode up almost two hours later, I had the campsite looking nearly perfect. The big tent was set up towards the back of the lot, and the little one was out towards the front. A large tarp covered the cooking and eating areas, and a fire gently crackled in the pit. I only had a few things left to unpack.
"Where's dinner?" was all Dave had to say.
"I, I haven't made it yet sir."
"Well why not?"
"I didn't have time sir."
"Well get started. I'm hungry. And mark yourself down for three points" he ordered.
Now here I have to briefly explain something. When Dave first became a part of our lives, I had this fantasy of being punished - and I had even taken the time to devise a system. But Dave wasn't interested. He thought it was wierd enough just having me around, much less having to play some kind of punishment game. Eventually though, the tables turned. I won't go into long detail, but Dave gradually started to see the benefit of disciplining me; and I soon realized that I didn't enjoy the punishments as much as I thought I would.
Anyway, we eventually came back to the system that I had invented.
Negative behaviour meant points, but positive behaviour could negate those points. For each point I received, I could choose between various unpleasant discipline methods. For example, in the beginning one point was worth either twenty spanks with the paddle, ten strokes of the cane, or an extra two days past my regularly scheduled masturbation date in my CB-3000 without release.
It's gradually evolved, but it's effectiveness hasn't changed. I dread those points. I can't believe I ever thought a system like this would be in any way enjoyable.
So with three awful points hanging over my head, I started cooking dinner over the grill as Dave and Jen sat by the fire and talked about what all they wanted to do during our stay.
I had dinner ready in record time, and I hoped my efforts would be rewarded with at least a reduction of my points down to two. But as they finished eating and I took their plates and started cleaning up, I knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Wimp!" ...uh oh.
"It's going to get dark soon. I need something to punish you with. When you're done there, go find a good stick for me to whip you with."
This wasn't going to be good.
"Yes sir" I replied.
I knew I had to find a good young sapling with some spring to it. A brittle stick would just bluntly beat across my bottom and eventually break, but a good flexible rod would inflict maximum sting on the naked flesh of my buttocks while requiring minimum effort on the part of the one administering the punishment. I eventually found the perfect branch; about four feet long, strong but flexible, and not too many extra twigs growing off of it.
It took me a few minutes to whittle off all the little knobs and smooth out the handle, but when I was finished I knew I had created a very capable implement.
As I handed Dave the finished cane, a feeling of pride in my workmanship mingled with the usual emotions of intense humiliation and fear of the coming discipline.
While Jen went into the tent to get ready for the evening, Dave and I walked back into the woods. He had me bring the duct tape, and I knew why.
When he was satisfied with our distance from the rest of the campers, he instructed me to bend over.
The whipping went just like usual, with the exception of the duct tape over my mouth so no one would hear me crying. As usual, by the time he was through with me I was crying like a little girl, and my bottom stung so bad I could barely pull my little panties back up.
We walked back to the tent, the alpha male leading the way with his head held high, and the freshly beaten submissive wimp meekly walking behind.
Jen was waiting inside the tent with the flap partially open. She had changed into white lingerie - a tiny lacy top with a thong and stockings. I couldn't see her feet, but I imagine she was wearing heels. Dave loves it when she wears heels. He smiled and headed into the tent.
I knew what to do. I sat outside on my freshly beaten bottom and kept guard. If anyone came close to the tent it was my job to keep them away so Dave and Jen could have privacy.
No one came.
The distraction would have been nice. What started as gentle female moaning gradually turned into drawn out but muffled cries and sighs. The tent started shaking.
And then it was finally over.
"Wimp!"
I was already on my way.
With my eyes on the ground I entered the tent, gave Dave a small towel, and knelt by their feet.
"Go ahead honey" Jen said. "Do what you do".
I crawled between her legs and did my best to lick all of Dave's cum out of her pussy.
When she was satisfied with my work, I was sent off to my bed in the little tent.
"Be careful with the food this time, boy", David warned me. "I don't want a bunch of soggy bread and broken eggs this time."
"Yes sir" I said, lowering my head just a little.
"Have fun honey" Jen added, with a sweet but condescending smile. "We'll be back in a little while."
And with that they were off to explore the area. Jen's bottom wiggled tantalizingly in her tight jeans as she walked beside Dave to get the bikes off the rack. As they rode off, laughing about something or other, I looked again into the back of the car. I had a lot of work ahead of me.
When Jen and Dave rode up almost two hours later, I had the campsite looking nearly perfect. The big tent was set up towards the back of the lot, and the little one was out towards the front. A large tarp covered the cooking and eating areas, and a fire gently crackled in the pit. I only had a few things left to unpack.
"Where's dinner?" was all Dave had to say.
"I, I haven't made it yet sir."
"Well why not?"
"I didn't have time sir."
"Well get started. I'm hungry. And mark yourself down for three points" he ordered.
Now here I have to briefly explain something. When Dave first became a part of our lives, I had this fantasy of being punished - and I had even taken the time to devise a system. But Dave wasn't interested. He thought it was wierd enough just having me around, much less having to play some kind of punishment game. Eventually though, the tables turned. I won't go into long detail, but Dave gradually started to see the benefit of disciplining me; and I soon realized that I didn't enjoy the punishments as much as I thought I would.
Anyway, we eventually came back to the system that I had invented.
Negative behaviour meant points, but positive behaviour could negate those points. For each point I received, I could choose between various unpleasant discipline methods. For example, in the beginning one point was worth either twenty spanks with the paddle, ten strokes of the cane, or an extra two days past my regularly scheduled masturbation date in my CB-3000 without release.
It's gradually evolved, but it's effectiveness hasn't changed. I dread those points. I can't believe I ever thought a system like this would be in any way enjoyable.
So with three awful points hanging over my head, I started cooking dinner over the grill as Dave and Jen sat by the fire and talked about what all they wanted to do during our stay.
I had dinner ready in record time, and I hoped my efforts would be rewarded with at least a reduction of my points down to two. But as they finished eating and I took their plates and started cleaning up, I knew that wasn't going to happen.
"Wimp!" ...uh oh.
"It's going to get dark soon. I need something to punish you with. When you're done there, go find a good stick for me to whip you with."
This wasn't going to be good.
"Yes sir" I replied.
I knew I had to find a good young sapling with some spring to it. A brittle stick would just bluntly beat across my bottom and eventually break, but a good flexible rod would inflict maximum sting on the naked flesh of my buttocks while requiring minimum effort on the part of the one administering the punishment. I eventually found the perfect branch; about four feet long, strong but flexible, and not too many extra twigs growing off of it.
It took me a few minutes to whittle off all the little knobs and smooth out the handle, but when I was finished I knew I had created a very capable implement.
As I handed Dave the finished cane, a feeling of pride in my workmanship mingled with the usual emotions of intense humiliation and fear of the coming discipline.
While Jen went into the tent to get ready for the evening, Dave and I walked back into the woods. He had me bring the duct tape, and I knew why.
When he was satisfied with our distance from the rest of the campers, he instructed me to bend over.
The whipping went just like usual, with the exception of the duct tape over my mouth so no one would hear me crying. As usual, by the time he was through with me I was crying like a little girl, and my bottom stung so bad I could barely pull my little panties back up.
We walked back to the tent, the alpha male leading the way with his head held high, and the freshly beaten submissive wimp meekly walking behind.
Jen was waiting inside the tent with the flap partially open. She had changed into white lingerie - a tiny lacy top with a thong and stockings. I couldn't see her feet, but I imagine she was wearing heels. Dave loves it when she wears heels. He smiled and headed into the tent.
I knew what to do. I sat outside on my freshly beaten bottom and kept guard. If anyone came close to the tent it was my job to keep them away so Dave and Jen could have privacy.
No one came.
The distraction would have been nice. What started as gentle female moaning gradually turned into drawn out but muffled cries and sighs. The tent started shaking.
And then it was finally over.
"Wimp!"
I was already on my way.
With my eyes on the ground I entered the tent, gave Dave a small towel, and knelt by their feet.
"Go ahead honey" Jen said. "Do what you do".
I crawled between her legs and did my best to lick all of Dave's cum out of her pussy.
When she was satisfied with my work, I was sent off to my bed in the little tent.
