(Author Note: This is the eighth episode in a series. The characters and situations were introduced in the story:
Camp Torowa Falls 1: Wet Sheets Lead to Sore Rumps.
Read that episode first! Then read episodes 2 through 7 before reading this one!) -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Consciousness...awakening...gradual recognition of being in a daze, a wonderful, fantastic daze filled with feelings of indescribable joy. Movement... body moving, hips thrusting into the mattress beneath them as wave after wave of ecstacy is relesaed. Tears of joy dropping onto white cotton.

Eventually the movement stopped and the daze cleared, and Corey Lane's tears of joy were replaced with tears of shame and fear. He had just had another wet dream and soiled his underpants and sheets. Corey shivered under his covers in the pre-dawn darkness. All too soon, at morning inspection he would be forced to bend over his bed, totally naked, to be whacked hard four times with his counselor's wooden camp paddle. He eventually sobbed himself back to sleep.

Corey and Alan walked towards the bath house in the early dawn light. This time they were both wearing underpants, but Corey's were quite obviously stained. Alan's underpants bore what appeared to be a moderate-sized pee stain, but Alan admitted that it was from one of "those dreams" as well. It was just that Alan's dreams aren't yet particularly wet. They both chuckled at that jest.

"If I come back next year," said Alan, "I'll be wetting the sheets and getting paddled for it just like the rest of the 'big boys'."

"If you come back?" asked Corey. "Are you thinking of not returning?"

"Not my idea," said Alan. "My parents aren't sure if this is the best camp for me to attend."

"Really?"

"I guess they feel that archery and canoeing may not be the best early preparation for a physician."

"You have to start medical school at twelve?"

"No, but this place is a little...primitive, don't you think?" said Alan.

"Primitive?" said Corey. "I wouldn't call any place with electricity and running water primitive."

"I don't mean primitive technology - that makes it charming. I'm talking about the primitive attitudes of the bosses here."

"Primitive attitudes?" asked Corey, as they approached the bath house.

"All right," said Alan. "For example, how do you feel about what's going to happen to you at morning inspection when Jeff sees the state of your sheets and jockeys?" He pointed towards the crotch of Corey's underpants.

"Well, of course I'm not thrilled about it," said Corey as they entered the bath house. "But what am I supposed to do? I sinned, apparently, and now I have to pay the price."

Alan shook his head in obvious disbelief. "Sinned?" he said. "Wet dreams are a perfectly normal thing for pubescent boys to have. They is nothing at all 'dirty' or 'unnatural' about them."

"Who says? asked Corey, as they began to relieve themselves at the urinal.

"My dad says," said Alan. "And he's a urologist, so he knows better than your precious Boss Lemmon."

"Is he sure about that?" asked Corey.

"Of course!" said Alan. "The human urinary tract is his specialty. He knows all about it. If he says something your penis does is natural, you can take it to bank."

Corey struggled with this concept. His dad thought it was bad, so did Boss Lemmon and the other staff. How could it be natural? Of course it does feel incredibly good. Corey had long wondered why God would make something that was evil feel so good.

"Okay," Corey finally said as they washed their hands. "Why do my father and Boss Lemmon both think it's evil?"

"Superstition. Fear." said Alan. "It could be something else entirely, but I'm not sure what."

"They seem to really believe it, though." said Corey.

"I'm sure they do," said Alan. "Superstition causes people to believe all kinds of stupid things. That black cats are bad luck, that walking under a ladder is bad luck, the list is endless." Corey didn't know what to say to that.

As the two friends left the bath house, they encountered Jerry, Eric and Phil entering, all of whom were wearing obviously stained briefs. "Looks like Jeff's paddle is gonna be busy this morning," observed Jerry.

"Yep," said Corey, chuckling ruefully. "See you back at the cabin." The other three move smartly towards the urinal, so as not to be late for inspection.

As they walked back to the cabin, Corey was distracted from the recent discussion by pangs of jealousy. Three of the four other guys who ate lunch with Anna yesterday had wet dreams - all four, actually, if you count Alan's "not so wet dream".

Did their dreams involve Anna? The very thought made Corey jealous. Which was ironic when you consider the fact that his did not. For the first time in his budding pubescence, Corey had remembered the contents of a wet dream. It featured Steve Windom getting his bare ass soundly paddled by Marty Herman for swearing. Steve had been bawling, green foam coming from his mouth - from the big bar of Palmolive soap he was sucking on as he screamed.

Corey was preoccupied with many thoughts, and said nothing more as he trudged back towards his appointment with pain.

Before he knew it Corey was naked, lying face down on his bed, his crumpled undies laying in the middle of the stain on his sheet. He noticed for the first time that it was a particularly large stain. He must have squirted more than ever before. Jeff had gone to his office to retieve the paddle, leaving Corey and his three fellow bedwetters to await their turn to pay for their sins.

Jerry was the first sinner to pay his tab. Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! Corey wasn't sure if he heard a slight groan from Jerry after the last whack. He soon had more pressing concerns...

Corey heard Jeff move into position behind him, and grabbed two fists full of blanket. Crraacck! Wow! Crraacck! That'll get your attention! Crraacck! The bruises from Friday will make it tough to get through this quietly. Crraacck! "Sss." Crraacck! "Umm." At least he didn't make much noise.

Corey heard Jeff move over behind Phil. Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! "Ow!" Crraacck! "Ooo!" Corey didn't blame Phil for squawking. It was the second morning in a row for him. In fact Phil was lucky that Jeff never gave out more than five whacks for bedwetting. If the progession had continued, Phil would have been due for six or seven whacks today, Corey forgot which.

Finally Eric was paying for his lust. Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! Crraacck! Or was Eric - were they all - just victims of some ancient fear or superstition?

After the boys had showered they got dressed, but not in full uniform. They did put on their blue camp t-shirts, but substituted jeans for their standard khaki shorts and hiking boots for their usual sneakers. Then it was time for breakfast. This would be their last meal prepared in a kitchen for three days, so all ten boys ate heartily.

Then it was back to the cabin to gather their gear and prepare to leave. Jeff and Simon Leary, the Asscon who would be accompanying them on the expedition, checked to make sure everything was there, and packed properly. It took some time to get Willie Strand sorted out, since he couldn't find his pocket knife, among other things. Eventually they were ready to head out.

The first stop was Boss Lemmon's hut. The camp director insisted on inspecting each group of campers personally before they ventured off into the wild. Corey stood in line with his cabin mates, their heavy packs resting on the ground in front of them.

After Boss Lemmon had determined that everyone was equipped in a proper manner, he addressed them. "All right, campers. I want you all to have a good time out there in the woods. Jeff is your unit commander - everyone will obey his orders at all times. Simon is his second in command. You all know the rules, but be certain to remember the most important rule of all, stick together! No camper is to ever leave the group - even just to pee - without first getting permission from Jeff or Simon. Understood?"

"Yes, Boss!" the campers all chanted.

"Very well," said Boss Lemmon. "Jeff, Simon, boys...have a good trip, and we will see you all again on Thursday afternoon."

With that, the boys all heaved their heavy packs up onto their shoulders and began the long march into the woods. Corey had been through this twice before.

Two years ago, when Corey was 10-years-old and living in Squirrel Cabin, they only went out on a simple overnight trip. Their campsite was only about a mile or so from the main camp.

Last year, when Corey was in Coyote Cabin, they had stayed out three nights, and had selected a campsite about three miles from Camp Torowa Falls. Three miles doesn't sound like much, but when you're an 85 pound boy lugging a 15-20 pound pack, and when the trail isn't flat, but up and down large mountain foothills, it sure seems like a long way.

Corey knew they'd be marching the rest of the morning and all afternoon before Jeff selected an appropriate site for them to camp. Jeff led the group into the woods, with the Fox Cabin campers trailing in single file behind him. Simon brought up the rear, keeping his eye on everyone. Within minutes Corey's pack was feeling quite heavy, and his backside was still sore from Jeff's paddle. It was gonna be a long day.

Lionel Harper started with the "knock knock" jokes before they had even left camp property. Oh, yeah. That might be the reason why Lionel wouldn't speak to him. Corey hated "knock knock" jokes with a passion. Yes, "orange you glad I didn't say banana again." Very funny, Lionel. What nonsense! It was gonna be a very long day.

They had a couple of rest stops, and a brief lunch break. The mess hall crew had provided bag lunches for the first day so they could spend more time marching.

It was very late in the afternoon when Jeff stopped, looking around. They were in a small glade on relatively level ground surrounded by tall pine trees, with a smattering of hardwoods mixed in. The trees were widely spaced on the downhill side and a wide, slow moving creek was visible between them. "Okay boys, rest here a bit while Simon and I check this area out," said Jeff.

The two men dropped their packs and went off to check out the area, starting with the creek. Corey dropped his pack gratefully and sat down next to it. Apparently a large boulder had taken up residence in his right boot and had been bothering his foot something awful for the past half hour. He removed the boot and shook out a very small stone. Corey shook the boot some more but nothing else came out. He looked in the boot, but nothing. He picked up the small stone that had fallen and looked at it disbelief. How could something that small hurt his foot that badly?

Jeff and Simon soon returned. Jeff said, "Good news! This is the spot." This news was met with sounds of approval from the tired campers.

"Is the creek good for swimming?" asked Paulie Jenkins.

"Yeah, there's a swimmin' hole down there," said Simon. This news was met with even more enthusiasm, with the tired, sweaty campers looking longingly towards the creek.

"But first," announced Jeff sternly, "we have to set up camp!" This news was met with groans of disappointment. "Come on! We need to set up camp, then we can go swimming and start having fun. First we need to choose sites for the tents."

Each camper had been assigned a "tent buddy" for the trip. Tent buddies each carried half of the 2-man army surplus pup tent they would be sharing for the next three nights. Jerry and Corey were tent buddies, quite naturally. So were Eric and Alan. (Tony had been Eric's buddy during practice, but after recent events Jeff had allowed Tony and Alan to switch partners.)

The other teams were Kyle and Paulie, Tony and Phil, and Lionel was somehow stuck with the hapless Willie. Simon and Jeff would be sharing a sixth tent.

Jeff showed Jerry and Corey where he wanted their tent set up. The pair began unpacking the "shelter halves" of their tent, made out of olive drab duck cloth. Corey noticed right away that this was not the same tent that they had practiced with. It was old - World War II surplus - and it showed.

Corey had no way of knowing if this tent had been used during the war, of course, but it sure had seen action during 15+ summers of clumsy campers hicking through these mountains with it. Jerry, the expert, pronounced it well worn but still servicable. Corey would take his word for it. Jerry actually had one of these at home - the Marine Corps model, of course. He often used it to camp out in the yard behind his uncle's home in Elmira. So Corey had complete faith that if anyone in their group could keep this tent together, it was Jerry.

After their tent was set up the Jerry's satisfaction, he went to help Lionel and Willie, who were having trouble with theirs. Corey began unpacking his gear and...crap! He realized that he had forgotten his swim suit! He would have to use one of his spare pairs of undies... unless they could skinny dip. Would Jeff even allow that?

Corey had taken an immediate liking to Jeff, but still didn't know a lot about him. He couldn't even remember the name of the college he attended. George Hendry, Corey's counselor last year, let his Coyotes skinny dip during their camping trip. Hopefully Jeff would do the same. These camp counselors could be a little hit and miss with some things. What one counselor thought was no big deal, others thought was a major crime. It was the same way with teachers.

"How's it going?" asked Jerry, returned from helping the others.

"Ahhh, I forgot my swim suit."

"Well, you look handsome without it."

"Hardee har har." said Corey. "You may get to see me like that, unless Jeff makes me wear briefs."

"Yeah, right," said Jerry. "Once those things get wet, you might just as well be naked."

Corey snorted with laughter, "That's true enough."

Once Jeff was satisfied that all was well with the tents, he sent details to dig a fire pit, gather firewood, and perform the other chores needed to get the camp ready for use. Corey explained his swim suit situation, and was relieved when Jeff said essentially the same thing as Jerry, "No point wearing white briefs to swim, Corey. Once you get them wet, they'll leave nothing to the imagination anyway. So long as no other parties set up in the area - parties with females, that is - you guys can skinny dip."

"Thanks, Jeff!" said Corey.

"No problem, Corey. Now get going on that fire pit."

"Jawohl, mine commandant!" said Corey, throwing him a nazi salute.

"Get to work, ya little smartass!" said Jeff. He faked taking a swing at Corey as the giggling boy dashed out of reach.

Soon, but not really soon enough for a certain group of ten impatient boys, the camp was squared away enough that Jeff was willing to declare it inhabitable. But before the fun began, Jeff issued some standing orders for the camp.

"Rule #1: No wandering off, especially at night. If you're going to walk more than 20 feet into the trees - even to take a whiz, you need to get permission from me or Simon."

"Rule #2: No peeing in camp. If you wake up in the middle of the night and have to pee, don't just stick it out the tent flap and let loose! At least take a couple of steps into the trees before you pee, and go even further if you'll be squatting. And for heaven's sake take paper with you when you do that. If you wipe yourself with poison ivy, I'm not going to rub your butt with lotion, that's for sure. Go ahead and giggle, but it could happen. And you won't be laughing then!"

"Rule #3: No swimming unless Simon or I are down there to keep an eye on things. I know some of you are excellent swimmers, but that doesn't matter. No swimming without adult supervision, and for the purposes of these rules Simon and I are the only adults here. Skinny dipping will be allowed, provided no groups with female campers set up in the area while we're here."

"Rule #4: Fire Control - fires are only to be lit under the personal supervision of Simon or myself. It's pretty dry up here right now and forest fires are nobody's idea of a joke. I sure hope none of you have taken up the filthy habit of smoking. Let's just say that if I catch any of you using matches up here without permission I will personally light a big fire where you don't want one!"

"Any questions?" asked Jeff, after he finished his recitation.

Paulie raised his hand. "Does this mean we have to ask permission if we get up to pee in the middle of the night?"

"No," said Jeff, "unless you plan to walk more than 20 feet into the trees. But I can't imagine why you'd do that, especially in the dark. Got it?"

"Got it," said Paulie.

"Any other questions?" asked Jeff. There were no takers. "Okay then, good job on setting up, everyone, very well done. Now everybody grab your towels and your swim trunks if you want to bother with them, and let's cool off in the creek!"

Soon the group of twelve was splashing happily in the creek. Simon was right, there was a nice deep swimming hole about sixty feet downstream from their campsite, and the water was gloriously cool. Only Kyle and Paulie wore swim suits, the rest of them were skinny dipping.

As Corey swam underwater, he could see plenty of fish, including trout (he couldn't tell if they were brown trout or rainbow trout) and some catfish or suckers feeding on the bottom. He knew that Jeff had brought some fishing gear, so they might be able to have some fresh fish before this trip was over.

Eventually the tired but happy group made their way back to camp to make dinner as the sun set. It was canned beans and hot dogs roasted right over the fire. Then they had s'mores for dessert. A breeze came up during dessert and Corey went back to the tent to retrieve shirts for himself and Jerry. They put them on, but remained bare below the waist.

Corey loved camping out with his friends. He wondered if he might be able to camp out with Jerry behind his uncle's house someday. He'd have to ask Jerry about that before the summer was over.

Another quaint custom of Camp Torowa Falls is that each camper is expected to contribute to the campfire entertainment by giving a performance of a favorite song, poem, story, or bible scripture. Each camper was expected to perform at least once during the campout, but they could perform each night if they wanted to.

Corey was not one for putting this kind of thing off, so he volunteered immediately when Jeff asked. Corey gave them one of his favorite songs (and the one he felt he sang best) by his favorite singer, the King himself. He stood up close to the fire and belted out "Hound Dog", complete with the hip gyrations, as best as he could remember them from television. Everyone was breaking up with laughter by the time he finished. Corey was a little hurt by that. He knew he wasn't anywhere as good as Elvis, either as a dancer or singer, but he wasn't that bad!

Corey sat back down on his towel and pouted a bit while Phil Lundon got up and led them in singing the classic folk song, "This Land Is Your Land."

Then Kyle got up and gave them some bible quotations. It sounded to Corey like a sermon on friendship, but he could have been wrong. At least Kyle was slightly less boring that Reverend Belling when spouting scripture - though no more memorable.

Next, Alan got up and recited his favorite poem, "Gunga Din" by Rudyard Kipling. Corey was facinated by the ancient language and cadence of the poem. It remained interesting right up until the end.

Corey applauded at the finish, and so did several others. Alan's bows were interrupted by the rain that began falling at that point. "Okay," said Jeff. "Everybody to their tents and bed. Don't forget to take your towels and any loose clothing. And don't forget to go pee, so maybe you won't have to in the middle of the night after the fire dies out.

The moon was full tonight, Corey remembered as he strode into the woods to select a tree to pee on. But the total cloud cover was making for a very dark night. Corey returned to the tent, put away his towel, and then had to decide if he should put on briefs for bed. Nah.

Soon Jerry returned to the tent and put away his towel as well. The two friends lay next to each other on top of their sleeping bags, listening to the rain hitting the tent.

"So," said Corey, in the whispering tones people automatically use in close quarters in the dark, "I guess we'll find out if you were right about this tent."

"Don't worry," said Jerry. "It'll hold up fine."

"What did you think of Alan's poem?" asked Corey.

"I had read it before, but it was a good performance."

"At least people appreciated his performance." said Corey. Jerry broke up laughing at that. "What?"

"Jeff asked me to have a word with you about that, Corey. Did you ever notice something about Elvis when he gyrates his hips like that? He's always wearing pants. Tight pants, yes - but pants."

"So?"

"So," said Jerry, "your private parts were flopping around in the firelight to beat the band. It looked to me like you were trying to roast them in the flames like a hot dog and a couple marshmallows." He started laughing again at the thought.

"Ummm," said Corey. He was flabbergasted.

"I'd advise you to at least put on undies the next time you try to impersonate Elvis."

"Ummm."

"Don't worry," said Jerry, putting a comforting hand on Corey's shoulder. "You'll get over it."

A few minutes later Corey had started to get over it. He changed the subject by telling Jerry about the conversation he had with Alan that morning.

"Of course wet dreams are perfectly natural." said Jerry.

"Why do you bend over to be paddled for them, then? asked Corey.

"Because those are the rules." said Jerry. "Rules don't have to be right, or even logical, but we do have to follow them if we don't want to be punished."

"But..." said Corey, clearly confused.

"Does you dad ever keep a gorilla in the back seat of his car?"

"What?" asked Corey, even more confused.

"According to Massachusetts law," said Jerry. "It is illegal to have a gorilla in the back seat of your car."

"Wha... how do you know that?"

"I read a magazine article a few months ago on stupid state laws," said Jerry. "That's just one of the less silly examples."

"Less silly?"

"That's right," said Jerry. "Believe me, you don't even want to know about the really stupid ones."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Good," said Jerry. "Now the point is, no matter how silly that law is, would you expect your dad to get a ticket - or something - if he got caught with a gorilla in the back seat of his car in Massachusetts?"

"I guess," said Corey, doubtfully.

"Correct," said Jerry. "So as long as 'bedwetting' and 'self-abuse' are punishable offenses at Camp Torowa Falls, we'll get whacked for doing them."

"But what if we complained to our folks?" said Corey.

"Hah, that's rich!" said Jerry. "Uncle Owen might see my point of view, but Aunt Betty thinks I don't get whacked nearly enough as it is. Plus her little darling, my Cousin Robby, will be coming here as a 9-year-old little'un next year. Guess who she will expect to keep him out of trouble?"

"But you'll only see him at dinner most days," said Corey, thinking of Kyle and his little brother.

"Correct again," said Jerry. "But you try telling her that."

"I just might do that, if I ever meet her."

"Good luck with that," said Jerry. "Now about your parents - do you really think you'll be able to convince them to send you to another camp next summer?"

Corey thought about that for a while, then said, "I doubt it."

"So then we better find a way not to get caught doing the things we shouldn't," said Jerry.

"I guess," said Corey. They were silent for a few minutes as the rain increased in intensity. At least it appeared that their tent wasn't leaking.

Then Corey felt something very odd... "Excuse me," he finally found the voice to say, "you do realize that's...not...yours...you're holding."

"I know. Do you want me to stop?"

Corey thought for a long minute, "No." he finally said.

"You can touch mine if you want." Corey thought about this for another long minute, then wordlessly accepted the invitation.

"Feel up to a challenge?" asked Jerry.

"Maybe," said Corey, his voice quavering nervously. "What is it?"

"We rub each other - you try to make me squirt before I make you squirt. The loser gets a spanking."

"A spanking...here...now?" asked Corey. He felt Jerry stiffen in his grasp.

"Not here, others would hear it," said Jerry. "Tomorrow we'll slip away, claim we want to get to the top of the hill to reconnoiter or something. Go deep into the woods... Hmm..it seems at least part of you likes the idea."

Corey realized that he had become quite stiff as well at this suggestion. "What kind of spanking?" he finally asked.

"Nothing major," said Jerry. "This is just a game, and we don't want to have any unexplained marks since we're running around bare-assed all the time. Say twelve swats with your hand."

"Okay," said Corey.

"Alright, ready to start? .. on three."

"Okay," said Corey.

"One...Two...Three, go!"

Corey started rubbing Jerry frantically as he felt Jerry rubbing him. The feeling was incredible! It was so different from when he did it himself. Within a minute Corey realized he was in trouble. He hoped Jerry was gonna squirt real soon, because he surely was...

Corey stiffled his grunts has his passion was released into Jerry's hand at high pressure and intensity. Jerry squeezed him very hard with his fist in a grasp-release pulsing fashion as he squirted. It was the most incredible feeling ever.

He had to remind himself to keep rubbing Jerry. Soon he felt Jerry's body go rigid as hot goo started to shoot over and past Corey's hand. He remembered the unusual squeezing motion, and tried it on Jerry. He felt his friend respond by thrusting into Corey's squeezing hand, trying not grunt out his ecstasy. Soon Jerry subsided and the two friends lay next to each other, warm and exhausted.

"That was incredible," Corey remarked when he regained control of his emotions.

"Did you ever do that with someone else before?" asked Jerry.

"Nope."

"You sure are a quick learner," said Jerry. "Here, use this to clean yourself up."

Corey felt some cloth land on his chest. "What is that?

"One of the socks I wore hiking up here today."

"Yuck, no wonder it smells."

"Just use it to clean up your goo, dopey," said Jerry. Corey chuckled, but complied with the order. Then he gave the soiled sock back to Jerry.

"What now? Corey asked, still tingling slightly.

"Now we climb into our sleeping bags and get some sleep."

"Good idea," said Corey. He climbed into his bag, which was only intermediate weight, but plenty warm for a summer night. Corey eventually drifted off to sleep, wondering about the many things he had learned that day.

The following morning Corey walked back out of the forest after relieving himself. The rain had stopped and the sun was peeking through the trees from just above the horizon. It was gonna be a nice day. The grass was wet underfoot as he re-entered the tent. Jerry was still asleep. Corey dressed himself quietly - briefs, cutoff denim shorts, socks, boots, and a clean t-shirt featuring Elvis in a scene from "Blue Hawaii".

Corey almost didn't put that t-shirt on, but screw those guys. So he flopped around a little last night - so what? At least he had more to flop around than the rest of those guys, with the exception of Jerry and the two adults.

Corey re-emerged from the tent and noticed Simon coming back out of the woods. Corey walked over and asked for - and was granted - fishing gear and permission to attempt to catch some trout from the creek. Corey was soon joined by Phil, and fishing was good. Between them, the boys managed to catch eight nice-sized rainbow trout.

Cleaned and cooked over the fire, the trout made a great breakfast served with something called grits. Corey had heard of this - he vaguely remembered. But he never had it before. It tasted a bit like corn, which Eric assured him it was made from.

After the dishes had been washed and the camp policed up, Jeff announced that it was time to explore their immediate area. Jerry and Corey immediately volunteered to hike straight to the top of the hill and attempt to find out approximately where they were.

Jeff agreed, but told them that they weren't just sightseeing. He would expect a full report from each team on what they saw, and expected each team to return with something interesting to discuss - some leaf, mushroom, or insect they found along the way.

Before Jerry and Corey departed, Jeff extracted a promise from each of them that they would go no further than the crest of the hill they were camped on the side of. He reckoned that to be no more than a half mile hike. He would expect them back within two hours.

The two friends moved easily and unhurriedly through the thin underbrush. They were on the lookout for obstacles, and for something interesting to bring back for "show and tell". They found the crest of the hill in well under an hour. The return trip would be down hill, so they had plenty of time before they needed to start out.

Looking around, they found a great view to the north, where they could see the pyramidal shape of Mount Marcy, the tallest peak in New York State (at more than 5300 feet in height), which looked to be nearly 25 miles away. They looked at their map, and finding landmarks which matched it, calculated their approximate position.

"Okay," said Jerry. "One mission accomplished. Now we just have two more things to do."

"Two?"

"Yep," said Jerry, grinning. "We need to find something interesting on the way back down for 'show and tell', and you still need a spanking."

"Oh, yeah," said Corey, also grinning. "I had forgotten about that."

"I'm sure you did," said Jerry. "Well, lookee here. The perfect spot!" Jerry led Corey over towards a old tree stump at the end of the forest. He carefully scanned the area. "Looks like we're alone, so let's do it."

Jerry sat down on the stump and Corey walked over to him, still grinning rather stupidly. "Wipe that smile off your face, young man!" said Jerry in his best 'angry father' tone.

Corey screwed a serious look onto his face, but he knew it probably wasn't all that convincing. "Should I..." he said, reaching for his belt.

Jerry slapped his hands away and said, "Hands behind your head, mister." Corey complied with this order. Jerry unbuckled Corey's belt, and unfastened the snap on his denim cutoffs. He unzipped the shorts and pulled them down to his ankles, exposing Corey's white Jockey shorts.

Corey felt a wave of humiliation hit him as Jerry reached for the elastic waistband of his jockeys and lowered them below his knees, exposing his genitals. This was ridiculous. Jerry had seen Corey naked hundreds of times in the last three years at camp. Corey had danced bare-assed in front of everyone last night. Why was he suddenly so modest around his closest friend?

Then Jerry was guiding him over his lap, and Corey was suddenly graced with a view of the wet ground around the stump at the edge of the woods. "Ready for your punishment, boy?" asked Jerry.

"Yes, sir," said Corey. This was more than a little weird. Swaack! Swaack! Swaack! Swaack! Wow! Swaack! He's hitting hard! Swaack! Swaack! Corey was wriggling despite himself. Swaack! Swaack! Swaack! "Sss." Swaack! Swaack! Twelve, at least it was over.

"Had enough, young man?" asked Jerry, as he rubbed the red bottom laying over his lap.

"Yes, sir!" said Corey. He could feel his sore cheeks twitching as Jerry rubbed them. Hey, he just noticed something on the ground behind the stump.

"Go ahead and get up," said Jerry, pushing his friend gently off his lap.

Corey got up and rubbed his bottom a bit. Then he pulled up his undies and shorts, and fastened everything back up.

"Ready to head back?" asked Jerry, as he stood up.

"In a minute," said Corey as he stepped behind the stump to find, yep, a cherry. He picked it up and examined it. It was hard, almost... "Look, a petrified cherry! Can we use this for 'show and tell'?"

"No," said Jerry. "I don't think so."

"How d'you think it got here?"

"Actually, it fell out of my pocket," said Jerry. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the twin of the cherry Corey was holding.

"What are they?"

"They're cherry bombs."

"Fireworks?" asked Corey, looking at his closely.

"Yep."

"Where did you get them?"

"In a box of corn flakes," said Jerry. "Where do you think I got them? I told you the local guys by the river in Glens Falls were selling fireworks."

"But you didn't tell me you bought any," said Corey, still examining his cherry bomb.

"You never asked, did you?" said Jerry.

"Hold it right there, you two boys!" said a husky voice from further in the woods.

Corey looked up at Jerry, who had a stricken look on his face, which Corey knew was mirrored in his own. They slowly turned to face the woods and saw...Kyle and Paulie walking out from between the trees. Corey sighed heavily with gratitude. He had thought for a second that they were dead meat.

"What are you two doing here?" asked Jerry.

"We heard something strange, so we investigated," said Kyle.

"What did you hear?" asked Corey.

"Jerry spanking you!" said Paulie.

"Yeah, well," said Jerry. "So you got a free show - you can clear off now."

"I don't think so," said Kyle. "I think you're both gonna do exactly what we say - or else."

"Or else what?" said Jerry.

"Or else we're gonna tell Jeff all about you spanking Corey, and about you having illegal fireworks," said Paulie.

"How about you're not gonna tell him anything," said Corey, "unless you both want to meet with an 'accident' out here and disappear in the wilderness."

"Nice try, Corey," said Kyle. "I have no doubt that you two heathens would love to keep bullying us smaller kids if the staff wasn't around to stop it." Corey blushed a little at that remark. "But I don't really think either of you would resort to cold-blooded murder just to avoid taking a licking you deserve."

"Don't be so sure, Mr. Holier-Than-Thou," said Jerry ominously.

"In any event," said Kyle, completely ignoring Jerry, "we don't really want too much from you in order to forget about both of these unfortunate matters."

"How about if we just deny everything?" asked Corey. "We get rid of the firecrackers and it'll be your word against ours. Jeff already knows you have it in for me."

"Ah, but you're forgetting about the evidence," said Kyle.

"What evidence?" asked Jerry.

"The red ass your buddy has stuffed in his shorts, for starters," said Paulie. "There's no way Jeff will buy that being left over from the paddling yesterday, especially since the marks weren't there when you skinny dipped last evening."

"And are you seriously going to try to say that Jeff won't find more cherry bombs in Jerry's stuff if he searches your tent?" asked Kyle.

Corey and Jerry looked at each other. They were totally screwed. "What do you want, exactly?" asked Corey.

Kyle and Paulie held a brief, whispered meeting. "One question first," said Kyle. "Jerry, do have at least ten of those cherry bombs?"

They all looked at Jerry, who simply nodded his head. "Great!" said Kyle. "We only want two things from you - first thing, we want you to give one of those things to each of the other campers in the cabin."

"Okay," said Jerry. "And the second thing?"

"The second thing is, you guys need to help us get Squirrel Cabin's Frisbee back from Bear Cabin," said Kyle.

"Why do you care about their Frisbee?" asked Corey.

"Because my little brother Timmy is in Squirrel Cabin and I don't want him to get spanked by those big goons in Bear Cabin," said Kyle.

"Okay," said Jerry, "But the whole cabin will need to help us with that, the four of us can't do it ourselves."

"We're aware of that," said Kyle. "That's one of the reasons for the first thing, we kind of want to bribe them into helping."

"With cherry bombs?" asked Corey.

"It's the best we could come up with," said Paulie.

Kyle and Paulie hurried off after that, to get back to the area they were supposed to be exploring.

"Hey, that's right," said Corey. "We could have reported them for being out of position - they would have been in trouble too."

"Do you seriously think that Jeff would punish them as bad for that as we'd get it for illegal fireworks and an impromptu spanking?"

"No, I guess not."

"Let's head back," said Jerry, "and find something to show off."

When they got back to camp, nothing was said about the incident at the crest by any of the four boys. By the two hour mark eight of the campers had returned to base.

After two and half hours had passed with no sign of Lionel and Willie, Jeff organized a search party. The missing pair had been assigned to scout the creek bank for a half mile upstream. Jeff deployed six campers, Simon, and himself as the search party. Tony and Phil were assigned to remain at the base camp in case the lost lambs wandered in from another direction. Each team had a whistle which was supposed to be blown if they found the missing campers.

Jerry and Corey were assigned the highest ground to search. They moved at a 45 degree angle up the hill until they judged they were about 200 yards away from the creek. Then they continued along the same general height, alternately calling the names of the lost boys.

"You know," said Corey as they walked. "It's a really bad idea to give Willie Strand a cherry bomb."

Jerry chuckled. "Yeah, that thought had already crossed my mind."

"He'll blow himself or somebody else up with it."

"More than likely," said Jerry.

"But you're still gonna give him one?"

"That was the deal we made, remember?"

"It's foolish." said Corey.

"Well, it's either that or we turn ourselves into Jeff after we find the lost idiots. Do you want to do that?"

"No," said Corey. "But I still think you're being foolish."

"Who's the more foolish? The fool, or the fool who follows him."

Corey didn't know what to say to that, so he just called out, "Willie!"

After a while they heard a whistle blowing below them. "That's the signal!" said Corey.

"Right, they found them!" said Jerry. "Jeff said to head straight down the hill until we get to them or the creek."

It turned out that Lionel and Willie were safe and sound...or at least they would be until a very angry Jeff got them back to base camp. Apparently they had trouble sleeping in their tent the night before due to the rain, so they just lay down "for a minute" when they reached their half mile point and were soon fast asleep.

Soon everyone was safely back in camp and the two "sleeping beautys" were standing forlornly in front of Jeff as he lectured them on responsibility - both to themselves and the team. Brushing aside their protests and explanations, he announced that they would each receive a good spanking. Finally Jeff turned to Simon, "Would you like to give us a demonstration of that item you showed me last night."

"Certainly," said Simon. He disappeared into the tent he shared with Jeff. While he was gone Jeff made the two sleepers strip themselves below the waist. Soon Simon emerged from the tent holding a strange object. It looked to Corey like part of a shoe - the flat leather sole of a very large shoe.

"Give them each six, Simon," said Jeff. "I believe you said that was customary."

"Right-O," said Simon. "Come here, Willie."

Willie approached Simon very reluctantly, his eyes glued to the strange piece of leather in his hand. Lacking a chair to sit on, Simon improvised. Going down on his left knee, he jutted his right leg out at an angle, bent at the knee, creating a kind of half-lap. He pulled Willie down over it, and grabbed the boy's upper body with his left arm while swinging the leather thing up high above his head with his right arm. Craacckk! "Oooww!" Craacckk! "Ooowwee!" Craacckk! "Noooo!" Craacckk! "Ooo! I'm sorry!" Craacckk! His legs started kicking. "Ooo!" Craacckk! "Ooooo!"

Simon pushed the sobbing boy off his half-lap, and Willie immediately jumped up, frantically rubbing his bottom and dancing around, his boyhood flopping in the breeze. "Look, he's doing Elvis!" said Jerry, in a stage whisper. Several people started laughing at that, and Corey punched Jerry on the shoulder, although he couldn't keep from laughing a bit too.

Lionel was not laughing, he just stared at Simon and that awful piece of leather that had just made his tent buddy cry. "Come here, Lionel," said Simon.

Soon Lionel was bent over Simon's leg and the leather was back at work. Craacckk! Craacckk! Craacckk! Craacckk! "Aaahhh!" Craacckk! "Oooo!" Craacckk! "Ooosshh!"

"Knock, knock, Lionel," said Corey, as the very sore boy was pushed off of Simon's leg and started furiously rubbing his bottom. This brought another wave of laughter from the group.

Willie and Lionel were made to stand facing the front of their tent until lunch time, hands behind their heads, with their well-leathered bottoms on display.

Meanwhile a very curious group gathered around Simon and his unique piece of leather. "What is that thing?" asked Eric.

"It's the leather sole from a large shoe. They call it a slipper." said Simon.

"Where did you get it?" asked Alan.

"My parents sent me to boarding school back on the Old Sod for three years when I was about your age. This was the kind of thing they whacked boys with over there."

"What's the Old Sod?" asked Tony.

"Ireland," said Eric.

"That's right, Eric," said Simon. "My family is Irish, so they send us all back over there to school for a few years."

"And they let you keep that when you left?" asked Corey.

"Nah," said Simon, chuckling. "My parents bought this when they were over there visiting. They used it on us kids when we got out of line at home."

"Does it sting?" asked Phil.

"You can ask those two at lunch, but yeah, it stings quite nicely. Get yourself lost, and you might find out in person."

"No thanks!" said Phil.

"Okay, guys," said Jeff. "It's way past time to start preparing lunch. Let's get a move on."

At lunch Lionel and Willie confirmed that yes, the slipper stung a lot, and that no, you didn't want to find out for yourself.

After cleaning up from the late lunch, everyone in camp stripped off and headed for the swimmin' hole for an afternoon of skinny dipping. Lionel and Willie were displaying bright red bottoms, and if anybody noticed additional redness in Corey's backside, they didn't say anything. Corey was a bit surprised that even Kyle and Paulie were skinny dipping.