Cathy Jean’s Ordeal in the Woods

[jamessc]

The sun streaming through the windows caused Cathy Jean to awaken a few minutes before the alarm went off. She blinked, stretched, and turned to switch off the alarm clock, but she knocked it off the nightstand and it hit the floor. The batteries popped out, and Cathy Jean swore softly as she went after them.

“Now, young lady, that’s no way to talk in this house,” her mum warned as she walked in. Cathy Jean had finished her work at University the year before, but rents and deposits were so high that her parents had offered to let her stay at home for a while until she had saved enough to go off on her own. She appreciated the help, but the lack of privacy was annoying at times. Especially times like this.

She mumbled a half-hearted apology and got out of bed, running her fingers through her hair and catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the bureau. Her mum left a stack of fresh towels in the little bathroom that was her room’s sole luxury. As she turned to leave, she asked, “Are you ready for your camping trip, dear?”

Cathy Jean grinned. “Sure, mum, you know I’ve been packed for a week!” She and her childhood chum, Roger, had been planning to take a camping holiday a few kilometres outside town for a few months. When she had mentioned it to her mum and dad, however, they felt that a chaperone should go along. Cathy Jean resented the idea of being treated as a child, but after a long and heated discussion, she had yielded to the idea of letting her uncle Tom come along. It wasn’t that she minded his being there, of course, but she had so wanted to be on her own on this trip, like the adult she felt herself to be. After all, she and Roger were just chums, not lovers!

Since she wouldn’t be near a shower for a few days, Cathy Jean indulged herself in an extra long, soapy one, scrubbing herself from head to toe. She dried off and pulled on a polo shirt and pair of elastic shorts, along with her hiking boots. She then grabbed her pack and carried it into the den, where Roger and Uncle Tom were waiting.

“Such opposites, “ she couldn’t help thinking. Roger was tall and wiry, with little spare flesh anywhere. Uncle Tom was short, paunchy, and bald, except for some gray hair around the sides of his head. Both of them were dressed for camping, and they had their packs and other supplies with them.

Cathy Jean picked up her pack and the sleeping bag beside it, and the two men did likewise. They went out to the lorry Uncle Tom had hired and put their gear in the back, along with the two tents Cathy Jean’s parents had insisted upon—one for her, and one for Roger and Uncle Tom. Roger got behind the wheel, and Uncle Tom squeezed in next to him. Cathy Jean had to make do with the cramped seating next to the window.

As they drove along, Cathy Jean began to find the lorry’s cab a bit too warm, and she lowered the window. A stiff breeze blew in, and Uncle Tom turned to her in annoyance. “Close that window, girl!” he fussed.

“But it’s hot!” Cathy Jean exclaimed. “It wouldn’t be if we weren’t all crammed in like sardines!” she thought to herself.

“Never mind that!” Uncle Tom returned. “Close it as I told you to do!”

Cathy Jean pouted a bit as she closed the window. She looked down the motorway so she wouldn’t have to look at her uncle, who was lecturing Roger about his driving. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Roger’s lips firmly pressed together, as if he were trying to keep words from tumbling out. She shook her head slightly as she contemplated what a weekend with Uncle Tom would be like.

“Bossy, ” she thought to herself. That was the word that described Uncle Tom exactly. A phrase she had heard in a film…what was it?…”my way or the highway.” Uncle Tom seemed to live by that phrase. How Aunt Susan had put up with it for so long escaped her.

True to form, when they reached the campsite, Uncle Tom set about giving orders. The tents should go there, the camp kitchen here, every detail as if it were vitally important. Cathy Jean and Roger exchanged glances behind his back…except Roger seemed to hold his longer. Cathy Jean squirmed a bit inside…could he possibly know?

When they were young, Cathy Jean and Roger played together all the time. One day, she had been bent over arranging some twigs when Roger had come up behind her and smacked her soundly on her little bum. She had straightened up, smacked him on the arm, and walked away…but a new and somehow thrilling sensation seemed to well up in her. It made her breath come quick and hard, and the tingling, prickling feeling from the place he had struck her seemed to turn into a most pleasant one.

Ever since that day, she had been fascinated by passages in novels where the heroine wound up across the lap of some man and thoroughly thrashed on her lower cheeks. As she had entered University and discovered the Internet, she had found that she was not the only one who felt this way, and she went from site to site, taking it all in.

Not that she could tell anyone locally, of course. She feared being thought of as weird, or even perverse, so she kept it all to herself.

Her mind returned to the present as she heard Uncle Tom calling. “Cathy Jean!” he bellowed. “Are you just going to stand there? Lend a hand!”

“Yes, Uncle Tom!” she called back, rolling her eyes. Roger had stepped out of sight for the moment, and she took hold of a bucket, at Uncle Tom’s instructions, and went to the nearby stream to fetch some water. As she walked back to the campsite, her boot toe stuck on a small obstruction, and, as she was attempting to catch herself, the whole bucket flew up and Uncle Tom was drenched.

“I bet you think that’s funny, Cathy Jean!” Uncle Tom bellowed. “See how funny you think this is!” Before she could react, Uncle Tom had seized her wrist and dragged her along as he sat on a log. Pulling her over his knee, it took but a moment for him to tug down her elastic waistband shorts, and her knickers with them. Then he proceeded to spank her, hard, on her bare bottom.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

She bucked, she struggled, she tried to free herself, but to no avail. Then that same strange but wonderful feeling came over her, the one she had experienced from Roger as a child, and even though her bottom was stinging and beginning to burn, she couldn’t make herself want the spanking to stop!

She found herself gulping for air as the spanks continued, yet she also felt as if she were melting inside, pain and ecstasy blending together. And then she caught a glimpse of Roger, peering at them from behind a tree, a strange look of desire on his face. Her face went hot with shame at being so exposed to her old friend, shame at being upended and treated like a naughty child; but what was this new emotion, this new sensation rushing through her mind and heart?

How shocking! She found herself wanting Roger to see her this way, despite the shame! As she looked at him over her shoulder, she could see that he was breathing hard as he watched, and she could only wonder what was going through his mind behind that tree!

Suddenly, Uncle Tom was finished. “Get up, girl! Let that be a lesson to you about respecting your elders!”

As she struggled to her feet and pulled her clothes into place over her hot and stinging bum, Cathy Jean knew that her relationship to Roger would never be the same…and she was beginning to think about what the new relationship might well include!

[sirthomas]

Interesting story. So rare to see a new perspective and not the "same old story"! Very good. Thanks.