The following story is totally fiction.  It contains spanking scenes.  Also, as it is told from the prospective of an eleven-year-old boy, it is not politically correct.  If this subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.
 

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Survival

By

YLeeCoyote@juno.com

I was very unhappy with the way the media reported the events that occurred during my Webelo pack's recent camping trip.  This is what really happed.  This is the truth even though I'm not proud of it all.

I had been looking forward for this weekend for months.  My Webelo pack was going camping on Bear Mountain.  It was just us guys: the ten of us, the scoutmaster and a couple of explorers; no den mothers or icky girls!  The SM was worried about the rain being predicted after several days of rain earlier in the week, but we refused to wimp out; we were practically full fledged Boy Scouts and real MEN!

We were at the trail head at 0812 Saturday morning and, leaving the vans in the parking lot, started to the camp ground 6.3 km away and 314 m up.  Our packs were heavy but we were determined and by 1258 we had gotten there.  We had lunch and setup our camp and then we went swimming even though the lake was still freezing cold from the winter.  The rain started right after dinner so we sacked out early in the damp of our tents.

It was at 0300 that they woke us up.  The rains had gotten harder and a messenger had brought reports of landslides.  As dangerous as it was to move in the dark and rain it was better than staying put with so much of the mountain above our camp.  We abandoned our gear and started out on the rain soaked trail.  After an hour we were caught in a landslide.  A huge hole opened up under me and as I fell I was caught up in the branches of a large tree that was sliding down.  Enveloped by the tree I was carried down the mountain and over a cliff edge into the raging and swollen stream below.  Later I learned what else had happened.  Several others of the pack fell but all save one – ME – were quickly found and pulled back to the trail.  Everyone was horrified but once they realized that I was in the rushing water they went on.  They figured that I was drowned and did not have any rescue gear to use.

Miraculously, I was not drowned.  I was not even hurt.  I was carried by the tree across the stream and, cradled in it branches, to the far shore where the tree got stuck.  To tell the truth, I was really scared but I knew had to be brave to survive.  It's only real macho men that survive.© YLeeCoyote

The rain stopped, the sun rose and I climbed out of the tree.  I thought that I could see some smoke in the distance which was probably from someone's house or campfire.  I checked the direction with my compass and started for it.

An hour later I stumbled into the clearing and saw the house.  Actually it was a little cabin with smoke coming from the chimney.  There was not any one outside.  By the door was a sign: "Ursa's Den".  My knocking did nothing but open the door.  The inside was sparsely furnished – three beds, a table set for three with four chairs and a pot on the fire.  I filled one of the three bowls that was on the table with some porridge from the pot and wolfed it down.  I hate porridge but I was starving.  I was also very tired and checked out the beds; one was hard like stone and the second soft like down.  The third was just like mine at home.  I stripped down to my briefs and got into the bed.  I was asleep in just seconds.

I was awaken by repeating cries of: 'He's in my bed.' and then one sharp: 'That enough, Junior.'  I sat up and saw the Ursa's.  The man was enormous.  He looked like a bear with his long hair, longer beard and body covered with thick hair.  The woman was also big but very pretty and Junior was hiding behind her.

"Who are you?" the man roared in a scary Darth Vader voice.  "What are you doing here?" he thundered.  "Who invited you?" he finished.

"I'm Gold D. Lox, Sir.  My pack was camping on the mountain and when we were leaving a tree swept me away.  I knocked but…."

He cut me off roaring: "So you invited yourself in, boy."

"Er, I'm afraid so, Sir.  I'm lost and hungry and tired.  I did not mean to do wrong.  Would you please help me to get home, Sir?

"Do people go away for long leaving breakfast cooking, boy?

"Er, er, I guess not."

"Did you eat dinner last night, boy?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then you were not starving but merely hungry, boy?

"Er; er, Yes, Sir."  I felt very small now.  It was obvious that I should have waited on the porch until the Ursa's had returned rather than being a criminal who had broken in and stolen food and used a bed.  Terrible images of flashed through my mind; I saw myself – dressed in only rags and barefoot – being lead to an ugly house behind an high fence with a big sign by the gate: STATE REFORMATORY FOR WAYWARD BOYS.  Meanwhile my parents and kid brother were packing because they had to move from their nice neighborhood where families just did not have boys who were JUVENILE DELINQUENTS in reformatories.  Not only was my life ruined, but so was that of my family. © by Y Lee Coyote

"What happens to naughty boys?" demanded Mr. Ursa.

"They're sent a to reformatory." I answered cowering, with tears in my eyes.  I was not feeling very macho now.  I wished that I had never read Charles Dickens.

With a laugh the man continued, "Yes, very bad boys do, but when they are just naughty they get spanked."  Although I had never been spanked I brightened immediately – anything was better than the disgrace of reform school.  "Come here, boy."  I did as I was ordered and stood totally still (except perhaps for shaking a little in my socks).  The man stuck his thumbs into the waistband of my briefs  and pushed them down leaving me quite exposed.  This was just like it was described in the old time books.  I was practically in a trance as the man pulled me across his lap and held me in place with his huge paw like left hand.

The man caressed my little bottom and them raised his gigantic right paw in preparation to bringing it crashing down on my never before spanked buttocks.  I must confess that I howled very loudly and the littlest Ursa giggled.  A spanking was evidently a lot more fun when another boy was getting it.  As my bottom turned pink, red and finally fiery crimson red, my howls were replaced with cries and tears.  And then Mr. Ursa stopped.  He gave me a big bear hug and sent me to the corner while they had their breakfast (without seconds).

Latter, I played with Junior for the rest of the day for Mr. Ursa explained that the streams were all ragging torrents and we would not be able to reach the town to get home until at least tomorrow.

Junior and I got along quite well except for one little thing.  Junior insisted that he spank me for sleeping in his bed.  After a bit of blackmail, I acquiesced as I certainly did not want another spanking from Mr. Ursa.  Even though Junior was younger than me, he was almost as big and even stronger from living in the woods.  He sat down on a fallen tree and for the second time this day, I found that my ass was being bared by another and I was upend across another lap.  Like his Dad, Junior had large hands (for his age) and really pounded my bottom.  I could not hold back the tears and end up crying from the Junior's spanking. © by Y Lee Coyote

"You going to be a good boy?" asked Junior.  "You going to do as I tell you?"

"Yes.  Yes, please stop." I begged.

After that Junior showed me a great time in the woods he knew so well.

After breakfast the next morning, Mr. Ursa hitched up his wagon and we all rode into town.  The local sheriff called Dad who came over to get me.

But the press was there.  The headlines were just terrible: GolDLox Saved by the Three Bears and then it went on to lie about the porridge and the just right bed.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., September 5, 1999

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Last updated:  September 15, 2023