A New Approach to Camping (2)

The campsite’s reception was housed in an old farmer’s cottage. It had been nicely renovated and appeared to be in excellent shape. The natural yellow stones gave it that lovely, traditional French feel. There really aren’t many places on earth with such charming houses. Plus, surrounded by trees and plants, the place looked pristine yet wild, covered in flowers. They must have a skilled gardener!

‘You stay put in the car. I’ll handle this.’ Before he could respond, she hopped out of the vehicle and marched straight into reception. It took her a moment to return. ‘Number twenty-eight is ours,’ she announced, hopping back in and handing him the site plan. They drove left around the office corner and headed downhill. He counted fifteen or sixteen plots before his eyes landed on a couple. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing: the woman strolling along in her bikini, but the man… good heavens! The man was completely naked, save for wearing a chastity device. Out there in the open for all to see, yet they walked confidently down the path as if it were perfectly normal. In disbelief, he slowly turned his head toward his wife and managed only ‘No. No.’ That was all he could say.

His wife didn’t seem to notice his words and called out, ‘There’s twenty-eight!’ She drove the car into the field, hopped out again, and asked, ‘Isn’t it beautiful here?’ He remained seated in the car, still reeling from shock and feeling even more fearful about what awaited him.

‘Hey boy, get out there! There’s work to be done.’ The receptionist had told her he should pitch the caravan and tent while she could. ‘I’ll be back in half an hour or so,’ she added. ‘And remember, you’re not supposed to leave this spot. See those two markers with numbers on them? Stay inside. We don’t want to embarrass other campers, do we?’ He was too stunned to protest and just watched her walk away.

‘It’s a lovely place,’ he thought as he maneuvered the caravan beneath a massive tree. An excellent driver himself, he noted they would need the shade; it was hot in the middle of the afternoon. Once stabilized, he pulled out the tent, sorted the poles, and connected them. He lingered around for a bit, waiting for his wife to return and help, but she didn’t show up. Eventually, he got down to business alone. It took over half an hour—what a task! He began to get irritated. What on earth was she doing? He threw the carpet onto the floor and spread it out, followed by setting up the chairs and table. He hesitated: should he have a beer or wait for her? He decided against it; something had shifted in her attitude, and he didn’t want to let her down. Even though annoyed, he realized he liked her this way, so he waited.

An hour later she returned. ‘Good work, darling,’ she said as she hopped inside, acting as if his solo struggle was entirely normal. “Let’s have a beer.”

She came back out, settled into the chair, and looked at him with a smile. He went inside to grab two beers from the fridge along with glasses. ‘So what have you been doing? I could’ve used a hand with the tent.’ ‘I had a chat with Denise, the camp lady,’ she replied. “They offer some really good programs here. It’s fun how they run this place—so smart! By the way, did you make up the bed yet?” ‘Uhhmmm… not yet,’ was all he could manage. ‘It would be nice if you do that right now so we can head down to the water later. There is a lovely little river with a small beach where we can swim. I’ll enjoy my beer while you make the bed, and then bring me my bikini.’

Something swelled in his cage as he went into the caravan to follow orders. ‘Here’s your bikinii,’ he said. ‘What about me?’ “What do you mean, what about you? Are you coming with us?” ‘Sure,’ she answered. “But…”

‘Oh come on! Last month you wore the device in the hot tub and loved it so much; what’s the problem now? You can put on your Hawaiian shorts if that helps cover things up.’

They walked down through the campsite. The second sight didn’t strike him as hard as the first one had. There again was a woman sitting in her chair, while men strolled around—naked and wearing devices. Was it the same man? He wasn’t sure. ‘It’s nice here, isn’t it?’ she remarked. ‘Uhhmm… yes, but…’ he replied. In the next pitch over, another man was washing dishes; again naked, though harder to see clearly at a distance, there were no doubts now about his state. This was going to be a very special holiday indeed.

Keep it coming!