Monday, February 06, 2012

Nudist Camp Spankings


© Guyspencer 2012
Nudist Camp Spankings

The resort is called “Sunspace Gardens”. My family has been vacationing there annually since before I was born. We have a standing reservation for the first three weeks of May.

Sunspace Gardens is 100 acres of steamy rural south Florida, guarded by an 8 foot high opaque fence. Inside are campgrounds, sporting facilities, an Olympic-sized pool, a playground for us kids and even a restaurant. That fence represents a huge cultural divide. Outside is the normal world, a place where people walk around clothed. Inside, the wearing of clothing is rare.

Sunspace is owned & operated by a skinny old man named Morey. Morey and his golf cart are a constant presence, seemingly everywhere and into everything. I’ve known Morey since I was a baby. Rain or shine, I’ve never seen the man dressed in more than a baseball hat. His closet (if he even has one) must be as empty as his underwear drawer.

Our family owns a classic Airstream trailer that never leaves the park. Morey stores it for us in a special area of the park along with dozens of others. When we arrive, he uses a little tractor to pull it to our campsite. We love that part because Morey always lets us kids ride in our trailer for the short trip. On the day we leave, we usually get another ride because Morey is typically anxious to clear our campsite for the next customer. Of course, now that I’m a 14 year-old young lady, I’m getting too old for these childish things. But still I ride with my younger brother and sister…just to supervise.

Regardless of what the title to this story says, we hate the label “nudists”. The new term is “naturists”. When we’re home, our parents do their best to blend in with the neighborhood. They want everyone to understand that we’re not weirdos. Yes, there is a high fence around our back yard and we go out there nude, but that’s only on weekends. All of our friends (and their parents) know that it’s OK to come by our house Monday through Friday and nobody will be naked. And we have other rules: Even if you knock on our front door on the weekend, whoever answers will be decently covered and you can enter our living room without encountering nakedness.

Yes, some of the neighborhood kids figure out ways to peek at us. Isn’t that creepy? And yes, some are caught and spanked by their parents. Too bad!

Sure! My friends ask me questions, so I just answer them. It’s no big deal. I tell them that we’re actually pretty normal. For example; a closed bedroom or bathroom door means the same thing in our house as it does in theirs. You would be surprised how many people ask me about spanking! Yes, spanking is one thing that’s a bit different in naturist families since modesty isn’t an issue. Obviously, having to drop our pants is neither embarrassment nor punishment for us. But being spanked in front of your brother and sister is still embarrassing! When we “get it” it usually happens in the family room, and the whole family is often present. And yes, duh! We get it on the bare bottom.

On vacation, you will find all five of us at Sunspace Gardens, and we will be naked the entire time. It sure makes packing easy! It’s all about “body acceptance”. After ten minutes at Sunspace, you totally stop thinking about other people’s bodies. Even a developing girl like me can walk around freely without stares. Sunspace prides itself on being a family camp. Nothing sexy or weird is allowed in public areas of the camp. Any couples engaging in more that a chaste “peck on the cheek” will be quickly encouraged to seek privacy.

Morey has mixed emotions about kids. Most of the regular campers are beyond parenting age, so they complain when us kids fool around or make too much noise. Naturally, Morey doesn’t want to lose customers on our account. On the other hand, Morey understands that young people hold the future for the naturist movement. In fact, he says that a lot. For the same reason he also tries to make the camp friendly to “20-something” young adults, although they cause their own brand of troubles.
It was one of Morey’s solutions to the “20-something” problem that got me into trouble. But I’m getting ahead of myself!

Morey isn’t a shy kind of guy. When there’s a problem with a member (or a member’s kid) his style is to directly confront the problem. I can tell you from personal (and painful) experience; my parents react to Morey’s concerns. A few parents take their kids to the privacy of their camper for a spanking, but not mine. To convince Morey they’re serious, most parents, including mine; “take care of business” right on the spot. It’s funny that the old folks are usually the ones to complain about noise, but I don’t recall any of them complaining about noise from a spanking! Yes, it’s embarrassing, but it’s over quickly. There are lots of kids in the camp, all naked, so it isn’t terribly unusual to see one of us with a red bottom.

But sometimes, just a hand spanking wasn’t enough. The most common shade tree in the camp is the “umbrella tree” (AKA Schefflera). Each bunch of leaves on the umbrella tree is connected to a stick about 2 feet long. That stick has a large knob at one end that makes a fine handle. Pick a nice fresh stick, and then snap the leaves off the end and you have a fine switch. Ask me how I know!

Usually, if my father uses a switch on us, it’s just for a few swats to “reinforce the lesson” after a hand spanking. I’ve seen a few of my friends get serious whippings with those umbrella tree switches, but it only happened to me once.

There I go getting ahead of myself again!

Sunspace Gardens is vaguely separated into two halves. There’s the “camp” half, that’s where the trailer sites and all of the buildings are. The other half is a tropical hammock officially designated as a “wetlands area”. That means that Morey isn’t allowed to develop that area. Dividing the halves is the trailer storage area. Nobody is allowed in the trailer storage area. Beyond the trailer storage area, at the edge of the wetlands area, are signs that say “Couples only area. No unescorted minors.”

So now you’re probably thinking, “Why does a family-oriented naturist resort need a ‘couples only’ area?” In the answer to that question lies one of Morey’s answers to his “20-something” problem.

Morey insists on calling it the “Primitive Camp”. That’s how he got the permit to put it in the wetlands. Everyone else calls it the “Honeymoon Camp”. It has several tiny cabins separated just enough for privacy. Nearby is a clearing where folks congregate to do the loud, hedonistic things that “20-somethings” enjoy, all without disturbing the “family” part of the resort. Each site consists of a raised deck with a cabin that’s little more than a screened-in lean-to with roll-down canvas to keep out the summer rain. Each cabin has a large double-size cot. When the mosquitoes aren’t bad, most of the occupants of these camps move their cots outside to sleep (and likely copulate) under the stars.

Can you see why the “honeymoon camp” poses such a temptation to a barely teenaged girl? Oh but wait! I’m getting ahead of myself again.

The wetlands area wasn’t totally unknown to us kids. Herb, a nice retired biology teacher often organizes nature tours for us during times when all's clear at the honeymoon camp. Herb pointed out that there were no umbrella trees in the wetlands area, because they aren’t native to Florida. This didn’t seem important at the time.

We learn a lot about what happens at the honeymoon camp by listening to adults talk to each other. One guy said, “Those young couples use our pool and then go off to their honeymoon camp to drink beer, play their guitars, and screw.” Of course, I had no special interest in watching people drink beer or play guitars. But that last thing…

Sid also piqued my interest. He’s a local guy, a carpenter I think, and a regular at the honeymoon camp. He sets the old folk’s tongues wagging by bringing a different girl nearly every weekend. I think Sid likes me a little; I catch “those looks” sometimes. I know I'm interested in him! He has a compact body without an ounce of flab.

The girls he brings are usually newbie’s. You can tell by their tan lines, their shyness, and their wide eyes that this is their first time in a naturist resort. Walking around clothed at Sunspace is almost as rude as strolling downtown nude, so members are expected to strip off the minute they park their cars. Thus, we get to see those girl’s first publicly nude moments. It’s entertaining!

One day, as I watched Morey gather Sid, Sid's latest girlfriend, and their stuff into the golf cart for the ride to the honeymoon camp, temptation finally won me over. I just had to spy on the honeymoon camp!

It was actually the next day before I got up enough nerve to try it. I slipped away from the rest of the kids and eased myself out of camp. To get to the wetlands area, I had to walk through the trailer storage area, and that was my undoing.

You see, Morey felt obligated to maintain tight security in the trailer storage area, and had recently installed TV cameras with monitors in the office. Matilda, the nattily dressed nude lady who ran the office, for once happened to be paying sufficient attention to catch the movement on the screen. I learned later that she had run outside and flagged down Morey, who happened to be passing by in his golf cart. Unfortunately, Matilda had recognized me, so Morey picked up my dad and went charging towards the storage area.

Meanwhile, I followed a path towards the rear of the wetlands area where I knew I would find the honeymoon camp. 50 yards from Sid’s cabin, I slipped off the trail and crept from tree to tree until I could peek at Sid and his girlfriend. With my heart in my throat, I watched them for what seemed forever. I had a great view of the action. What were they doing? To my disgust, they were…making lunch.

That’s when I felt the hand on my shoulder. I screamed.

Startled, Sid and friend both looked our way, but I couldn't see them because I had turned to see who had me. You guessed it! It was Daddy.

“It’s just me and my daughter” my father said loud enough for them to hear. “I think she has something to say to you. Can we come over?”

In a puzzled voice Sid replied “Sure! Want a beer?”

Urged along by that firm hand on my shoulder, I walked up to Sid’s cabin, enduring their puzzled stares.

Daddy ignored the beer offer, instead commanding me, “Tell then what you were doing .”

“Errr…I was watching you.”

Still uncomprehending, Sid asked, “Watching us?”

“She means she was spying on you…peeping” my father said helpfully. “The Honeymoon camp has quite a reputation you know.”

“Primitive Camp,” Morey, (who had just appeared) corrected.

Light finally dawned in Sid’s eyes, “So you were hoping to see us do something other than prepare lunch I suppose.”

My face felt hot. I studied the ground minutely, then my toes. “Maby” I finally admitted.

Then Morey jumped into the act, his face was like a thundercloud. “Little miss” he bellowed, “Do you have trouble reading signs?”

It was at this point that I turned on the waterworks, not that my blubbering helped. My father simply slapped my all-too-convenient bare bottom and ordered “Stop that noise!”

He continued, “You’re going to apologize to Morey and Sid and errr…”

“Jane” Sid’s girlfriend said, holding out her hand to Daddy.

“Nice meeting you Jane.” Daddy replied. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

She shrugged graciously (and for course, nudely).

“Well” Daddy said firmly, “Apologize and then we’ll deal with your punishment.”

The punishment was no surprise, I just wondered if it would happen right there or back at the camp. Starting with Morey, then working my way around to Sid, Jane, and my father, I blubbered out four incoherent apologies.

Ignoring me for a moment, Daddy took Morey aside. They had a short, but earnest talk. To my relief, Morey jumped onto his golf cart and disappeared without another word. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t have been so relieved had I known where he was going.

The question of venue for my spanking was soon settled; “I think it’s only fair that you two watch this girl get properly punished.” My father offered.

Sid agreed a bit too quickly, “If that’s your choice, it’s OK with us.”

Sid’s cabin was built on a deck that was raised above the ground to about chair height. Daddy sat on the deck and looked at me purposely. I knew what I was supposed to do! Since everyone in this scene was nude, there was no pre-spanking wardrobe discussion! Naturally, this would be an au naturel spanking. I put myself over Daddy’s lap.

Daddy’s “camp” spankings were usually energetic, but brief. They last just long enough to redden my bottom and get me howling in full voice. Usually, I have sort of an “out of body” experience. After the first minute or so, it’s as if I’m watching myself get spanked, only from a distance. Yes, I'm still getting spanked, but it's like I’m not really there.

Daddy didn’t let that happen this time. This spanking was a masterpiece of parental corporal punishment! It started slowly while he lectured me, emphasizing his “bullet” points with spanks. I was momentarily happy when the lecture was finally over, but that’s when the “real” spanking started! He didn’t miss a square inch of my bottom. He took enough time between spanks to ensure I got the full effect of each blow. He even spanked parts of me that he had never bothered with before.

Also, he kept me “present” for this spanking by pausing often to ask me questions about why I was being punished. Because my mind wasn’t allowed to depart, I even stayed cognizant of what was happening around me. For example, I noticed that Jane was squirming and blushed. Back then, I wasn’t experienced enough to guess that she was getting “turned on”.

I also noticed that the noise of my spanking had attracted couples from elsewhere in the “honeymoon camp”, who now stood in a respectful semi-circle. I couldn’t see Sid, so I properly guessed that he had stationed himself behind me for a grandstand view of the proceedings. I was making too much noise to hear the return of Morey’s gulf cart.

Suddenly Daddy stopped the spanking. At this point, it had probably been among the worst spankings of my life, but somehow it felt incomplete. It was missing Daddy’s trademark parting “scorchers” to my sit spots. Without his usual post-spanking tenderness, Daddy urged me back to my feet. Looking around, I saw that Sid was now sitting on the edge of the deck, a few feet from my father. Incongruously, he was balancing his Styrofoam cooler in his lap. (Later, I figured out that he was hiding an erection. Erections aren’t as common as you might think in a naturist camp, but I notice that men always sit down to hide them. If you ask me, that just makes it more obvious.)

Then I saw the golf cart, and then Morey. My eyes widened when I saw what he had in his hand; several umbrella tree switches! I guessed that Daddy must have sent him for them. Ever helpful, he handed the bouquet of switches to Daddy. He selected the longest, greenest switch in the lot and swished it through the air experimentally. It made a noise like a snake!

I’m afraid I disgraced myself, begging piteously that I had already been spanked enough. Ignoring my entreaties, Daddy purposely gripped my left shoulder with his left hand, and moved me to a clear spot several steps away from the raised deck. The onlookers backed up several steps to make room for us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daddy's right hand raise that switch raise high in the air. Then there was a whistling sound followed by a line of terrible burning pain across my already tender nates. My urgent attempts to outrun that stinging switch were foiled by his rigid grip on my arm. My father commanded me to stand still for my punishment, but it was impossible! The result was that we went around in circles, with about two terrible cuts from that switch per revolution. The onlookers backed away even more.

It was one of the worst moments of my life! The switch was inflicting terrible pain and I was afraid my father would become terribly angry with me, because I just couldn’t stand still. Worse, my world was spinning. As we went round and round, I saw the cabin, then the golf cart, then the onlookers, cabin, golf cart, onlookers… Finally my legs simply collapsed under me. I lay on the ground, blubbering.

Daddy helped me up. He seemed more determined than angry. It also seemed that he wasn't done with my punishment. Impassively, he led me back to the deck, and bent me over it. The deck had obviously not been designed as punishment furniture. My firm little breasts were pushed against its rough surface, and its rough edge dug into my hips. Soon I ceased to care about the roughness of the deck. I felt Daddy’s hand firmly pin me into place, and then he got busy again with that switch. This time, except for a bit of futile kicking, I couldn’t move. I howled and screeched as that switch made crisscrossing lines across my bottom and the backs of my legs.

Finally it was over. He left me to blubber on the deck for a couple minutes while he talked to Morey and Sid, and then he finally helped me to my feet. He was clearly not angry nor out of control, but still determined. He wasn’t yet quite done with me! “Get your bottom back to the camp and tell your mother why you got punished.” He ordered.

I started to take the small path that had gotten me there, but Daddy stopped me and gestured towards the larger drive. So I walked back, literally leaving a trail of tears. Daddy and Morey followed me in the golf cart, making a strange procession that called attention to my disgrace.

I found mommy, and tearfully confessed my spying on Sid and his girlfriend. She was mad at me, but after one look at my bottom said nothing about further punishment.

Finally Daddy appeared. I looked at him fearfully, but now he finally offered me the absolution I had been craving. On the picnic table outside our camper, he pulled me into his arms. I indulged in a long, cleansing cry into Daddy’s shoulder, and all was finally well. Mommy handed him a damp cloth, He used it to tenderly wash my face, and then to wipe my tears from his shoulder.

Finally, he bent me over the picnic table. As my brother and sister watched wide-eyed, he eased my pain by slathering aloe lotion over my welts. After a 2-hour nap in the camper, I was good as new.

I didn’t get to hear what happened at the honeymoon camp after we left, but I’ll bet we left them all horny as billy goats! I wonder if those extra switches we left behind found any takers?
Unfortunately, my switch marks lasted for the rest of our stay at Sunspace. My playmates quickly stopped noticing, but I was forced to detail my crime to several of the older campers who noticed them and asked me in various ways if I had been “bad”.

The evening of my punishment, Daddy took me aside for a “talk”. “We know you’re curious about sex.” He said, “That’s normal for your age. But it’s OK to ask your parents about things like that. You don’t have to learn by peeking at people.”

As my father said it, he kind of smirked. Even he is cool enough to know that no conversation with your parents could possibly match the thrill of watching Sid and his girlfriend actually “do it”.

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