Zelamir

Nicky series

1 Nicky's New Dad
2 The man in the House
3 Nicky's New Brother

Episode 1
Nicky's New Dad

Summary

Disclaimer added by Céladon Puerulus

If you don't like reading stories about men having sex with boys, why are you here in the first place?

This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life.

It is just a story, ok?

Author's note

First Publication

Brian had always known it would be difficult but this was far worse than he expected. Nicky was white and trembling with rage.

"We don't need you. We don't want you. Mum and I are managing all right without you." The words came out in a furious rush with all the conviction and certainty that a strong willed twelve year old could muster.

Brian looked at the boy and regretted yet again that he had not managed to win his trust. He had tried but all his approaches had been firmly repulsed. Nicky did not want to see Derby City play Newcastle, he was not interested in ice hockey, he did not want to go swimming. The roller blades that Mary assured him her son had set his heart on and which Brian had given him as a Christmas present remained in their box unopened.

It was all the sadder because Brian liked what he knew of Nicky. It could not have been easy for the boy when his father had been killed in that car crash but he had behaved very well. Mary had told him how the requests for new clothes and trainers and computer games and everything else dear to the heart of a twelve year old had stopped on the instant. That the first she knew that Nicky had got a job as a newspaper boy was when he got up in the morning for the first time at half past six to start his round and then insisted on her taking his earnings as a contribution to their straightened house keeping budget . How since then he had not once let Mr. Patel down and still won first class reports from school. She had also said she suspected that Nicky had lied about his age to get the job but she did not have the heart to tell on him.

Brian had had a few disasters in his life and he appreciated spirit in others. He was sure that in normal circumstances he would have had little trouble in getting on well with Nicky. The problem was that they both loved the same woman. And now he was going to have to tell the boy that he was going to marry her.

Well there was no point in hanging around. He had tried to work round to the point gently but that hadn't worked. He glanced across the small sitting room to where Mary stood and taking strength from her smile ploughed resolutely. on.

"I can see you're managing very well Nicky and you've been a great help to your Mum and I know you will continue to be and to me as well."

"I don't want to help you", the concentrated hate in the boy's voice was frightening.

"Oh God here goes", thought Brian.

"I hope you will once your Mum and I are married."

The colour drained from the boy's face. He turned away and caught hold of the mantelpiece to steady himself. He stood there for a long moment and then very deliberately reached out and picked up the bone china Doulton figure that held pride of place in the centre of the shelve . It had been Nicky's father's last birthday present to Mary before the accident. He opened his hand and the figure crashed to the floor breaking into fragments.

There was a moment of silence. Mary began to cry. Nicky horrified by what he had done fled from the room.

Brian's patience snapped. He forgot his sympathy for the boy and his admiration for the way he had faced up to the consequences of his father's death. Anger at the wanton destruction of the figurine and at the distress caused Mary consumed him. Memories of the rebuffs suffered at Nicky's hands welled up within him. Unbuckling his belt he thundered up the stairs in pursuit of the boy.

Nicky made it to his bedroom just in front of him. He slammed the door shut but there was no key. He made a desperate effort to hold the door shut against the man but Brian was too strong for him. The door crashed open hurling Nicky across the room and sending him tumbling over the bed. The boys jeans stretched tight across his backside offered a tempting target and Brian brought his belt cracking down across them.

Nicky scrambled to his feet and made a dart for the door. Brian grabbed him by the collar. The boy twisted round and bit his wrist as hard as he could. Brian swore and back handed him viciously across the mouth. Nicky tasted blood as he was sent tumbling back upon the bed. Brian grasped him once again by the shirt collar, this time taking care to push his head into the mattress. Nicky felt the man's hand yank at the waste band of his jeans. Buttons popped and the boy felt cold air against his bare thighs and bottom.

"I mustn't cry. I'm not going to cry. He can only do this to me because he is stronger and bigger than me. He won't make me cry." Nicky was desperate but resolute.

Brian pulled the boys shirt up over his shoulders baring his body to the strap. He stepped back measured his distance with care and brought the belt cracking down across the boy's defenceless rump. Nicky's body jerked convulsively as the pain coursed through it driving the air from his lungs.

Nicky fought for breath and then desperately bit down on the duvet cover to try to stop himself crying out.

He heard the hiss of the strap above him. He braced himself for the blow.

Crack.

He wouldn't be able to take much more.

Crack.

"I mustn't cry. Imusn't. I MUSN'T"

Crack

Nicky's resolve broke and he howled

"Mum. Please Mum"

Crack

"Oww. Mum please stop him. Please."

Crack

Brian worked methodically as the boy's body writhed and twisted under the lash. Nicky ceased to feel the individual blows. All he was conscious of was a terrible pain that was tearing his whole body apart and vaguely as if at a great distance the sound of his own screams.

Brian became conscious of Mary hanging onto his arm and shouting at him to stop. Impatiently he pushed her away. It was only when she forced herself between him and her son that he stopped.

Looking over her shoulder he could see the boy, his body racked with sobs, the bruised flesh of his bottom darkening now to deep purple laced with livid weals. He was making a high pitched keening noise more like a small animal in pain than a human being.

He dropped the belt and turned away. Mary heard him blunder down the stairs and the slam of the front door as he left the house.

She sat down on the bed and began to gently stroke her sons head.

"My poor boy, my poor baby," she murmured over and over again.

After a time she rose and fetched the duvet from the double bed in her room and spread it gently over Nicky's bruised body.

It was only when he was well away from the house that Brian remembered that he and Mary had planned to stay the night together and that his over night case together with his coat, his credit cards and his house keys were in her bedroom. He couldn't go back for them now. He would go back the next day. He ought anyway to face up to what he had done.

Nicky woke the next day to find his mother still sitting on the bed beside him. He looked up at her and saw she had been crying.

"You stay where you are Nicky," she said gently. "Brian's just come back to collect his case and then he'll be gone and we will never see him again."

Looking up at her Nicky felt very small and very humble. He had done his best and it had not been easy. It had not been pleasant to wear old clothes and do without things when the other boys he knew had so much. It had been grim some mornings especially when it was raining and cold to do the paper deliveries and then go on to school. He had done these things but they had not been enough. There were things he realised that a boy could do and things that were beyond a boy's power. He knew he had to do one more thing that was more difficult than anything else he had faced up to so far but do it he would.

Painfully he levered himself out of the bed He whimpered slightly as he did so for his bottom was still raw and painful.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked anxiously.

Nicky did not reply. Mary watched him leave the room and make his way across the landing his shirt tails flapping against his bare thighs.

Nicky stopped outside his mother's room. The door was open. Through it he could see Brian his back to him packing his case. That was the man his mother loved. The man whom he...... Nicky knew he had to say something; something to turn back the clock and to make everything right. It wasn't easy to know what to say and anyway he had a lump in his throat that some how made talking difficult. He took a deep breath.

"Dad," he said.

Brian turned and found the boy's arms tight around him the boy's head resting against his chest. Looking past him he saw the boy's mother. He held out his arms. She hesitated and then walked towards him.

Episode 2
The man in the House

Author's note

First Publication

Brian took Nicky into the sitting room while Mary made breakfast for them all. He switched on the television and Nicky lying face down on the carpet settled himself to watch the Saturday morning cartoons. Brian looked down at the boy's slim figure and thought how vulnerable he looked. His shirt, his only clothing, had ridden up to expose the dark bruises that covered his bottom. Brian wondered how he could have allowed himself to cause such damage to so defenceless a little creature.

He fetched a towel and a bowl of cold water. He lifted the dripping towel from the bowl and laid it gently across Nicky's livid rump. The boy started.

"It's all right Nicky," Brian said gently ruffling his hair, "it's only to bring the bruising down."

The boy turned and smiled his thanks. He was not embarrassed by his nakedness, after all Brian was his Dad. Brian understood this and was touched.

The day passed quietly. Nicky lying half dosing before the television Mary and Brian happy in each other's company.

By Sunday the bruises had started to fade. Nicky ate his breakfast sitting at the kitchen table , but with a thick cushion between his still sore bottom and the hard chair. Brian vetoed the boy's suggestion that they should try out the roller blades in the park on the grounds that it would be very painful if Nicky had to sit down suddenly. Brian took them ten pin bowling instead and bought Nicky an early supper of chips, beef burger and a jumbo coke which went down very well.

Back home Mary took Nicky upstairs for a bath. When he was undressed she called Brian.

"Do you think he will be all right for school tomorrow?" she asked turning the boy so his backside was to the light. Brian gently touched with his fingertips the welts that still disfigured it.

"When do you have games next?" he asked.

Wednesday Dad. I'll be able to go to them won't I? I may be in the under thirteen eleven. Please Dad?"

Brian laughed and pulled Nicky's ear. He muttered something about healthy young skin and said he could go to school the next day and that he was sure that the marks would have fade so much by Wednesday that they would not be noticed in the showers.

Mary was very happy about the way the week end had gone. Brian and the boy had seemed so at ease and happy together. She continued happy through Monday. But by the end of Tuesday she had to admit to herself that tensions were beginning to build up again between her lover and her son.

At Brian's suggestion they had drawn up a time table for the evenings. Nicky got home from school at about four thirty. Mary would prepare him a high tea and he would eat this and be allowed to watch television up to five thirty. He would then go upstairs to his room and do his homework. (Brian accepted that Nicky could do his home work in front of the television but he would do it better away from it.) Brian would get home from his business some time after six. Mary would have his supper ready for him at about seven. He and Mary would have supper together. This would allow Brian to unwind and for them to discuss quietly any problems that might have arisen during the day. At about half past seven they would call Nicky who would have pudding with them. (Brian agreed that Nicky might need less than two hours to finish his homework. If he did he could fill in his time reading "The Prisoner of Zenda". Brian knew he was enjoying it.) Brian and Nicky would then wash up allowing Mary to have a little rest. Afterwards they would spend time together playing a game or talking or watching television if there was an interesting program until nine when Nicky would go up stairs for a shower. Either Mary or Brian would go to settle Nicky in bed just before half past nine. Lights out for him was nine thirty sharp and no arguing please.

This program worked admirably on Monday. On Tuesday Nicky griped at having to go and do his home work and leaving the television. On Wednesday he muttered about having to take shower at all (he was quite clean) and at having to take it at nine in particular (miles too early, no other boy in his class had to go to bed so early).

Brian dealt patiently with these minor mutinies but Mary could see he was becoming increasingly irritated by her sons growing awkwardness.

Full scale rebellion occurred on Thursday. Nicky began his campaign by questioning why he always had to dry up. Why couldn't he wash up some times? Washing up was the easier job because the drier up had to do two jobs. Drying up AND putting away. Really there were three jobs not two. Then he tried to claim that "The Bill" was an interesting program (at least it was to him and why were his opinions always ignored) and they should watch it after supper.

Mary kept out of the arguments which ended in each instance with Nicky giving way but with a bad grace and Brian annoyed. Real trouble flared at nine O'clock.

"Go and have your shower now Nicky," Brian said. Mary noted there was a distinct edge to his voice.

"I want to stay up tonight to watch "Lethal Weapon 4". It's on in an hour."

"Go upstairs to bed now."

"Why can't I watch "Lethal Weapon 4"? All the other boys in school are going to watch it. Why can't I watch it? They'll think I'm a sissy if I don't watch it. But you don't care. You don't care about any thing but your silly time table. Who asked you to come here with your silly stupid time table. I AM GOING TO WATCH IT."

Mary decide she had to intervene.

"Sorry Brian," she said quietly. "Nicky you will go upstairs now and you will not watch any film on television and you will stop arguing."

"Oh all right Mum. I'll do what YOU say. You can tell me what to do. He can't. He has no right. He's just stupid."

Nicky jumped to his feet and ran from the room slamming the door after him.

"Brian I am sorry," Mary said miserably. "I just don't understand it. Every thing was all right on Monday. The two of you were just getting on fine then but it seems all to have gone down hill since then."

"I can understand it all right," Brian replied gruffly. "Nicky's a good boy but he's been used to getting his own way. He was the man in the house although he's only a boy. Now there's another man and he has to take second place and his nose is out of joint".

"But why have things got steadily worse since Monday."

"Oh that's easy," Brian laughed. "Monday the thrashing I gave him was fresh in his mind. Now the effect has worn off. Boys have short memories that need frequent refreshing."

"You think Nicky's needs refreshing?"

"Well we've got a choice. Either things stay as they are with arguments all the time or he gets a sharp reminder of what can happen to disobedient boys."

"I'm not going through the last few days again. There's no contest. I love you and I love Nicky but Nicky is just a boy and has got to learn his place."

Mary paused and then continued, "shall I fetch him down for you to deal with now Brian dear?"

"No I'm still irritated by the boy and I'm not going to beat him until that's worn off. I'll do it tomorrow evening after supper. But you can tell him what to expect now. It'll do him no harm to have some thing to think about."

The key to the bath room door had long been lost. Mary walked straight in. Nicky was still under the shower water forming a silver sheen over his narrow shoulders. Mary reached in and switched the shower off.

"Out you come Nicky," she said picking up a towel.

"Nicky," she said sternly as she vigorously rubbed him down. "You have made me very unhappy. You are a selfish uncaring boy. How could you behave so badly to Brian?"

"But Mum he's always bossing me about. He's got no right...." Nicky was near to tears.

"He's got every right. He is a grown up, you are a boy and a small one at that. On top of that he's the man I'm going shortly to marry. He's your Dad with a father's authority over you. You seem to have forgotten that."

"Sorry Mum," Nicky muttered unhappily.

"You'll be sorrier tomorrow my boy," she said grimly. "Tomorrow you're going to be reminded in a way you won't forget what your true position in this house really is. After you have had supper you will go to your room. You will strip down to your shirt and you will wait there till you are called down stairs for Brian to thrash."

"Oh Mum .....please..."

"You must learn and you will learn to do as your told by Brian without arguing or back chat."

"All right Mum.... Mum will it be as hard as last time.?"

"You'll have to wait to find out won't you?" Mary snapped. But then catchingsight of her sons devastated face added. "No I expect not but what you deserve is another matter."

Nicky had a miserable night. His dreams were full of whips and belts and pain. Mary and Brian heard him crying late into the night but they told each other that it was for his long term good and hardened their hearts. Nicky crept round in the morning looking like a little puppy who had already been thrashed. His obvious misery touched both the adults but again it was for his own good .... wasn't it?

Nicky hardly spoke when he came home from school and Mary looking at his red eyes and seeing his trembling hands felt as though it was she who was going to be beaten.

Brian come back from work looking grim. He carried a half dozen bamboo canes into the house.

"Picked them up at the garden centre on the way home," he said by way of explanation to Mary.

He selected one cane about as thick as his index finger. Seating himself in his arm chair he cut off a length about one metre long. The cane was tough and it took him some time working with his pen knife to cut through it. Then he split the thinner end length ways for about twenty centimetres. He produced a ball of cord from his brief case and put bindings at the tip of the cane and at the opposite end of the split.

"Gives it extra bite," he said. "No point in thrashing the boy unless it hurts."

Mary thought he didn't sound very happy.

Supper was eaten in silence. The cane lay on the table beside Brian and the two adults eye's seemed to be irresistibly drawn to it.

The meal over Brian stood up

"Better get it over with," he said. "Bring him down to me in the sitting room please."

Mary stood up and left the room without a word. She heard Nicky crying even before she opened his bed room door. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands, his bare thighs only partly covered by his shirt, his body wracked by sobs.

"Come on Nicky. It'll soon be over now."

"Oh Mum do I have to?" he raised his tear stained face to hers

Mary did not reply but reached out and took hold of one of his hands. Gently she drew him to his feet and lead him down stairs into the sitting room.

Nicky saw Brian standing beside a kitchen chair that had been placed in the middle of the room. His eyes focused on the cane which the man was holding in his right hand. He started back but his mother lead him forward still holding his hand until he was standing immediately in front of the kitchen chair.

"Nicky," Brian said quietly, "you have been a bad disobedient boy and now youare going to be punished. You are going to have six strokes of this cane. It will hurt a very great deal."

"When I tell you you will bend forward and take hold of the seat of the chair. You will take a tight grip of it because if you let go while am beating you the punishment will start all over again."

"You will keep your legs straight and you will put your head as far down as you can so your bottom is lifted well up for the cane and the skin stretched taught. Again you will maintain that position until the punishment is over and you have been given my permission to move."

"You may cry but not too loud. I do not want the neighbours complaining."

"Mary. Would you check please the windows are closed....Good..Nicky get into position."

Nicky bent forward and took hold of the chair. He felt Brian's hand rest gently on his raised bottom.

"Come on Nicky," he said, "you can get it higher than that. That's better boy."

The hand was withdrawn and Nicky felt the cane tip against his unprotected flesh. He realised that Brian was measuring the distance for his strokes.

He heard the cane hiss viciously above him and then felt an explosion of pain that drove the breath from his body as the rod cracked down across his bum.

He struggled for breath. He heard the cane above him again. Again it cut into his bottom. He fought to remain silent but could not hold back a gasp of pain.

A third time the cane ripped into his backside. This time he could not control himself. He yelled in agony.

"I must not let go of the chair. I must stay in position." He fought desperately to keep at least that small degree of control as the final three strokes tore across his rump.

Then the beating stopped. He was conscious of the agony in his bottom and the sound of his own sobs. He heard Brian's voice above him say something and then repeat it. He realised that he was being told the beating was over and he could stand up.

"The great thing about a beating Nicky", Brian said "is that it clears the slate clean. You have behaved badly. You have been punished. We need say no more about it unless you behave badly in the same way again. But you won't do that will you Nicky?"

"No B..B..Brian" he sobbed.

"I don't think you will. Now Nicky you are going to be given an opportunity for just a little period of reflection and penitence. Stand up on the chair now. Hands on the back of your head. That's right I will tell you when you can get down."

"Mary I feel I deserve a cup of coffee."

Mary on the way to the kitchen passed the chair on which Nicky was standing. She reached up and squeezed his bare thigh.

"You've been a very brave boy Nicky," she murmured. Nicky blinked back his tears and squared his shoulders. The pain, the humiliation was suddenly unimportant. Brian saw the change in the boy and smiled. He understood.

Episode 3
Nicky's New Brother aka Nicky's Older Brother

Author's note

First Publication

Brian lent back in his chair enjoying the early morning sun streaming through the dining room window and the unusual luxury of a leisurely breakfast.

Later that day he had to drive down to Kent to collect Adam, his son by his first marriage. That would mean a difficult interview with his former wife, although she and her wimpish husband had been almost as keen as the boy that he should spend his summer holidays with Brian. Still that meeting lay in the future and he could worry about it later.

A great deal had happened he reflected since he had moved in with Mary six months ago. They were married now and that had proved to be not only one of the best things he had ever done but also a turning point in his luck. His business, which previously had stumbled along on the verge of financial euthanasia, suddenly took a dramatic turn for the better. So much so that he saw no problem in taking a long holiday now summer had arrived and the market was so quiet as to be positively somnolent. Taking advantage of this he had booked a cottage on the Pembrokeshire coast for the whole of July.

From the kitchen next door came the sharp slap of an open hand striking bare flesh followed by a shrill squeak. Nicky hurried into the room, grinning, the mark left by his mothers hand on his bare thigh deepening from white to red.

"In trouble again Nicky?" Brian asked lightly, one of the many things that pleased him about the way things had developed was the increasing readiness of Mary to use her hands on her young son. The boy was a good one as boys went but like all boys he needed discipline. It had taken some time to persuade Mary that the best way to do this for all concerned was the old fashioned no nonsense way rather than the liberal route of reasoned discussion which too often lead to arguments, tantrums and sulks. Now however she was proofing to be an enthusiastic convert to his view.

"Watching Mrs. Smith's cat in the garden Dad rather than your toast and it almost burnt. Just caught it in time," Nicky said placing the toast rack he was carrying on the table beside Brian.

Brian looked at the contents doubtfully. While not perhaps burnt the toast was certainly on the dark side.

"Well pay more attention next time Nicky or you'll get something a good deal more painful than the flat of your mother's hand to concentrate your mind."

He lifted the boy's shirt tale and patted him softly on the rump.

"It's quite a time since you last had the cane isn't it? Nicky?" he asked letting his hand rest on the curve of the boy's bottom.

"Seventeen days Dad. I've been a good boy haven't I?"

"Report day today isn't it?" He asked tightening his grip gently.

"Yes Dad."

"And you remember our arrangement? Two quid for every B+ or better. Two cuts of the cane for everything less."

"Yes Dad."

"Well which is going to feel the most pain? Your bum or my pocket?"

"Your pocket Dad."

"Good boy. And apart from the money you'll want to show your big brother how clever you are. Now finish your breakfast quick or you'll miss the bus."

"He's not all that much bigger than me Dad. Eleven months and four days. I worked it out last night. That's not very much."

"He's still your big brother. Now get on with your breakfast."

Looking across the table at Nicky's fair head bent over his porridge bowl, Brian reflected that the boy as well had improved immeasurably over the past six months. Gone was the jealousy and sullen resentment with which Nicky had first received him. The boy now was cheerful affectionate and increasingly biddable.

He smiled as he remembered the almost hysterical reaction that his insistence, a week or two after he had moved in that Nicky should no longer wear long trousers, had met. The pleading, the tears, the argument, the claims that having to go to school in shorts and "such short shorts too Dad" would amount to a sentence to social ostracism. Yet only a couple of months later the lad accepted without protest Brian's ruling that when at home he should wear only a shirt and now ran around the house bare arsed without any sign of embarrassment or resentment. Such was the effect of a firm caring disciplined regime.

Mary had been a bit uneasy at first querying the necessity of some of the rules under which Nicky was obliged to live. Brian had explained that there were two sorts of rules. Those that achieved an immediate useful purpose in that they made life for the grown ups easier, such as those governing household chores, and those that were only useful as a means of impressing on the boy the authority of his parents. Thus every time Nicky had to put on his shorts to go to school or bare his bottom when he came home he was reminded of that authority and it's power over him.

Nicky spooned the last morsel of porridge into his mouth and looked across to his Dad. Brian nodded and the boy slipped the room. A moment later he was back dressed for school .

Brian looked him up and down, checking in particular that his hair was brushed, his tie neatly knotted and his shoes polished.

"Hands," he said and Nicky held them out back and then palm upwards for inspection. Satisfied Brian counted out the boys dinner money and bus money and added a pound coin.

"That's for sweets Nicky," he said.

"Thanks Dad."

"Now turn round." He tried to brush a lock of hair on the back of the boy's head into place but it remained stubbornly upright.

"Oh well that will do. Off you go. Give Mum a kiss before you go." He sent Nicky on his way with a good natured pat on the seat of his tight little shorts.

"Oh by the way", he called as the boy left the room, "good luck with your report."

"Don't worry Dad I won't let you down."

"I do hope his report is all right," Mary said as she joined Brian at the breakfast table.

"I think it will be. Nicky's pretty confident and you remember how well they spoke of him at the parents evening. Any way if he does get a couple of B- or such it won't be any big deal. He's overdue for a thrashing and I'll just have to find some other way of his earning the rest of the money for his boogy board." He's almost there."

"I do hope he gets the money together for it. We had to go and check in the sports shop again last Saturday that it had not been sold."

"I'll see he gets the money and they won't sell it. I've put a deposit down on it. But don't tell Nicky."

"I won't dear, don't worry."

Brain and Mary had agreed that it was important that Nicky should not be spoilt. If he wanted something outside Christmas or his birthday then he should so far as possible earn the money to pay for it himself.

"Do you think the two boys will get on all right?" Mary asked. "They haven't met or anything ."

"I expect there'll be problems but I'll sort the pair of them out. There's bound to be a bit of rivalry between the two. But that won't necessarily be a bad thing."

"Nicky certainly thinks the world of you darling. He had that Peter boy from school round to play and you should have heard him. 'my Dad says' this, 'my Dad' always does that. You're very important to him."

"Well I'm very fond of him."

"You'd really laugh. His great worry is that you'll send him away. Apparently there was a boy in his class who was fostered and became too much for his foster parents to handle; set light to their house or something; and had to be taken back into care. That's made Nicky very uneasy. He told me all about it yesterday. I tried to explain things to him but all he would say was 'but his Dad wasn't his real Dad like with my Dad and me.' So I'm afraid he's still worried."

"A little uncertainty on that score won't do him any harm. Help keep him in order."

"Now I must be on my way."

The reports were distributed by Mrs. Morris the form teacher during the last class of the day. Nicholas waited nervously for his name to be called. He was reasonably confident but there was an a general air of tension in the class room which effected all the children.

At last his name was called.

"Nicholas Roberts," he stood up and went to collect the unsealed envelope. "A very good report Nicholas. Well done."

"So that was all right," Nicholas thought as he returned to his seat. "Still may as well see what it says."

He slipped the report from his envelope and glanced down the grades. Nothing to worry about, even a couple of A-s. But what was this. 'English B- Nicholas's work was on the whole very good and I would have given him a mark at two grades better than this if had not been for his very erratic spelling.'"

What a swizz. It was an English mark not a spelling mark. If Mr. Brown going to mark them for spelling he should have said. Then he would have known what to expect. But to mark you down for spelling in your English subject. That wasn't fair. It was sneaky. He'd told his Dad he wasn't going to let him down and now he was going to have to show him a report with a B- for English and English was an IMPORTANT subject.

Nicholas read through the offending remark again. He should have had a B+ for English and a C or even a C- for spelling. That's what should have happened. But it would really be quite easy to correct at least part of this silly mistake on Mr. Brown's part. A vertical stroke across the minus sign and it would become a B+ and the supporting comment would not show that an alteration - no correction - had been made. Admittedly there was no place on the report to record the low spelling grade but that wasn't his fault. Mr. Brown had written his section of the report in black biro. Nicky had just such a pen in his pencil box. He took it out and made the amendment.

Nicholas did not have much time to think about what he had done in the bus home. It was full of children excited by the end of term. There was a great deal of noise and throwing about of books gym shoes and other items. It was only during the walk from the bus that doubts began to assail him. Although he was quite clear that by changing the grading all he had done was to correct a clear error of principle on the part of Mr. Brown the English teacher he could see that he was also deceiving his Mum and Dad. Nicky was naturally an open honest child and this realisation made him increasingly uneasy.

Still there was no going back now, he thought as he shut the front door behind him and quickly removed his shorts and underpants. He folded his shorts neatly and put them on the chair by the door to take to his room later. He dropped his underpants in the dirty clothes basket in the utility room under the stairs and padded across the hall on his bare feet to the sitting room carrying his report.

He was startled to see sitting just inside the sitting room door a dark haired boy slightly bigger than himself. His first feeling was one of resentment. Hadn't Dad said to him over and over again and reinforced his words with cuts of the cane until he had learnt his lesson, that chairs in the sitting room were for grown ups. Boys sat on the carpet. And the boy was fully clothed and, what was more, was wearing jeans not shorts. Why should he be allowed long trousers in he house when he, Nicky, was not. Then embarrassment flooded over him. He blushed scarlet and moved his hands to cover his crutch.

"Come over here now Nicky," Brian commanded sharply.

"Is that your report," he continued reaching out to take it from him.

"That is your big brother Adam sitting there. There's no need for you to go all coy with him. Little girls go coy. Boys do not. Adam will see you bare often this holiday and we had better cure you of this nonsense straight away. Hands on top of your head."

Nicky hesitated. He knew that putting his hands on his head would lift his shirt clear of his bottom.

"NOW Nicky."

Nicky obeyed. It seemed to him that he could feel Adam's gaze fixed on his bare bum.

Brian began slowly to unbutton this shirt.

"Hands down by your side."

He slid the shirt over the boys shoulders and let it drop to the floor at his feet. Nicky stood there naked his face burning with embarrassment at his humiliation.

"Now go and stand in front of Adam and keep your hands down by your sides."

Nicky saw the other boy grinning as he crossed the room towards him. He was very near tears. He thought Adam was the most hateful nastiest boy he had ever come across.

"Now say 'Adam I am a silly naughty little boy. Please spank me'."

"GO ON. SAY IT LOUD ENOUGH FOR US TO HEAR."

"Oh Dad."

"DO IT."

Nicky was on the verge of tears. He managed however to mumble the words out between trembling lips.

"Get down over his knees."

Nicky felt Adams hands on his bare back guiding him down across his lap.

"Nicky get your bum right up in the air boy. You know well enough what to do you've been over your Mum's knee sufficiently often in the past few weeks."

Nicky pushed his body forward across Adams knees feeling the other boys jeans rough cloth against his own bare flesh.

Adam looking down at the younger boy's upturned bare rump, so vulnerable and ready to hand, felt a wave of sympathy and compassion. He rested his hand on the curve of Nicky's bum. The lad's smooth skin felt cool to his touch. He noticed goose pimples had formed on the back of the boy's thighs. He wanted some how to tell Nicky that however much he hurt him he wanted him for a friend.

"Well Adam what do you think of your little brother? Nice spankable bottom?"

"Yes Dad." Adam's young voice was almost cracking with suppressed emotion.

"Round and firm and inviting?"

Adam, not trusting himself to speak nodded

"Well then get on with it. I want that bottom as red as his silly little face is."

Adam paused a moment his hand resting on Nicky's bottom and then brought it cracking down with all the force he could muster. Adam wondered how much the blow had hurt the other boy. Certainly it made his own hand sting. He watched as the mark made on Nicky's rump by his hand deepened from white to angry red. He raised his hand for a second blow. He saw Nicky's bottom clench in anticipation. He brought his hand down hard once again. Nicky gave a little gasp. Adam encouraged by this began to warm to his work. He caught hold of Nicky's wrists with his left hand pinning the boy across his knees as his naked body twisted and wriggled under the rain of blows. The room was filled with the sound of boyish whimpers punctuated with the sharp crack of an open hand against bare flesh.

Vaguely Adam heard Brian speak. He was too absorbed in his task to understand what he said .

"That's enough now Adam," Brian said more loudly.

Adam stopped and sat panting the sobbing boy lying across his lap.

"Well Adam you certainly seemed to have an aptitude for that sort of work," Brian said more quietly.

"Now Nicky get up. Stop making such a silly fuss. Say thank you to Adam for spanking you for being such a silly little child and come over here. I want to go through your report with you."

Nicky scrambled to his feet and rubbing his stinging backside managed to gasp out his thanks between sobs.

Brian shifted to one side of his hair and patted the cushion. Nicky gingerly, because of his sore bottom, settled himself on the chair beside the man. Brian put his arm round the boy pulling him close, his hand resting on the lad's bare thigh, a fond but strict father.

"Now, lets see, B+, B+, A- and more of the same. Well this is very good Nicky. I should think this will get you the balance of the money you need for that board you're after."

Brian started to put the report on the table beside him and then stopped.

"Oh almost missed that. On the back 'Headmaster's Comments'. Can't be other than good but I'd better just read them."

Nicky's heart sank. He had not though of looking to see if there was anything written on the back of the report. Would it give him away and show he had altered the grading? He waited fearfully while Brian read. Slowly Brian took his arm away from about him.

"What's this Nicky?" The man's voice had turned as hard as steel. "'An excellent report, especially as the B- for English would have been considerably improved if only Nicholas could learn to spell'. That's what the Head Master says but your grade for English seems to be a B+. Can you explain that."

"Perhaps he misread my report Dad or or the English Master changed his mind after he saw it," Nicky suggested hopefully.

"Did you change the marking Nicholas?"

"Yes Dad. It wasn't fare Dad. It was a mark for English not for..."

"Be quiet boy. You have attempted to deliberately deceive your Mother and myself. You are a wicked ungrateful boy. I do not wish to have any thing more to do with you. Go to your room."

"Dad. Dad you're not ...... you're not going to send me away?"

"I have not decide yet what I am going to do. I will do that only when I am less angry than I am now. You can however ask yourself how either your Mother or I can be expected to love and care for a child so ungrateful and untrustworthy as you have proved yourself to be. Now go."

Nicky turned and ran from the room. They could hear his sobs as he made his way upstairs.

How long Nicky sat in his room crouched on the side of his bed his head buried in his hands he did not know. It was however growing dark when eventually the door opened and Adam came in. Nicky raised his head and stared at him hopelessly. He no longer had the strength to hate the other boy.

"They're ready for you now Nicky," Adam said quietly. "I've come to fetch you."

"Are they going to send me away?"

"I don't know. They sent me into the kitchen when they discussed it."

"Look I brought these for you. They're left over from supper." Adam opened his hand and revealed four rather squashed strawberries.

"Be quick or we'll both be in trouble."

"Thanks." Strawberries were Nicky's favourite fruit and he thought he might as well enjoy them whatever further miseries awaited him.

Adam moved to lick his fingers clean and then hesitated.

"They had cream and sugar on them. Here if you want." He held his hand out to Nicky palm upwards. The younger boy said nothing but bent forward. Adam looked down on the boy's fair head bowed over his hand and felt a deep pity for him.

"Come on. Lets get it over with," he said, giving the other boy a quick hug of encouragement.

Nicky hesitated outside the sitting room door. He felt numb with fear. Adam took hold of him by the arm above the elbow and lead him trembling into the room.

Brian was standing by the fire place his hands clasped behind his back.

"Nicky you have behaved very badly. As badly as a boy can behave. Have you any thing to say for yourself?"

Nicky tried to speak but could only manage a low mutter.

"Never the less your Mother and I have decide to give you one more chance. We are not sending you away this time. But this is your very last chance. We have the right to expect honesty and openness from you. If we ever discover you trying to deceive us again you will go. Is that understood boy. Speak Up."

"Yes Dad. Thank you Dad," Nicky managed to stammer through numb lips.

"However you have been bad, very bad, and you will have to be punished severely."

"Yes Dad."

"The maximum punishment I normally inflict is six strokes. You have committed five extremely serious offences. You have falsified your report. You have tried to deceive your Mother. You have tried to deceive me. You have tried to obtain money to which you were not entitled. You have tried to evade a punishment which was properly due to you. That is thirty cuts of the cane plus the two cuts for your English B- that is thirty two cuts in all."

"Dad." It was Adam voice raised in protest. "Dad, you can't do that. He'll never be able to take it."

"Adam you do not tell me what I can or cannot do. I can see you need reminding of the respect you owe your elders. I will deal with you later."

"Dad, I..I..I'll do my best Dad. Just don't send me away please Dad."

"Good get into position then. The sooner we get this over the better."

"I'm not sure if I could stay in position for thirty strokes Dad. Couldn't I be held in place or something.? Please Dad."

"Normally I expect you to maintain position through out a thrashing. It's a good test of discipline but I suppose the punishment this time is more than usually severe."

"Very well. Mary would you mind holding your son down across your knee while I flog him."

Mary said nothing but getting up from the easy chair in which she was sitting she picked up the kitchen chair, which now was permanently kept in a corner and placing it in the middle of the room, sat down on it. Smiling she beckoned Nicky to her.

"Good," Brian said. "Now see if you can calm him down. It's ridiculous the way he's shaking while I just close the windows. It is fortunate that we had double glazing installed in this room at least."

Mary, murmuring words of comfort and encouragement, guided Nicky down across her knees. With one hand she massaged the back of his neck while the other rested on his taught little bottom.

"Adam. You're next so strip," Brian said returning from the window.

He stood watching the boy undress. It was a full year since he had last seen him naked. He was struck by the way he had filled out in that period.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered.

He looked the boy up and down. Adam blushed and shifted under his cold inspection.

"You've grown," he remarked after a pause and then, "I doubt if you will find it so exciting when you're getting the cane."

"Right Mary let's begin shall we. Get hold of one of Nicky's wrists and push it up his back as far as you can and get a firm hold of his leg just above the knee."

"That's right. You won't be able to hold him completely still but just keep his back side up across your lap for me to thrash please."

He rested the tip of the cane on Nicky's bottom for a second and then lifting it right back over his shoulder brought it hissing through the air down across the lad's bare rump with all his force. There was the crack of wood on flesh. Nicky jerked convulsively. He heard him gasp for breath. Brian waited until the boy's body was still. It was his intention to ensure as far as possible that Nicky felt to the full the pain of each individual cut. In time he knew the pain would merge and become generalised but not yet and it was his aim to postpone that moment for as long as possible. At last satisfied that the agony of the first cut had been fully absorbed he delivered a second slash. This time the boy screamed shrilly as the cane bit into his defenceless backside. Brian laid each stripe neatly across the boy's exposed rump working slowly and methodically from the base of his back downwards. Mary fought to hold the boy still as he writhed and howled under the canes merciless assault his bare feet drumming on the floor. Soon the lad's rump and upper thighs were a mass of lived weals.

Still the cane rose and fell but now the boy was becoming quieter. His screams fell to a low shrill keening while his naked body lay all but inert across his mother's knees only jerking sharply under the impact of the rod.

To Adam watching white faced and fearful it seemed that the boy's agony was never ending. It would end though and then it would be his turn. He felt very small and very frightened. He began to cry.

"Twenty seven."

CRACK

"Twenty eight."

CRACK

Brian had begun to count aloud.

"Twenty nine."

CRACK

"Thirty".

CRACK

"Thirty one."

CRACK

"Thirty two"

CRACK

"That's it."

Mary released her grip on Nicky. The boy slid onto his knees, his face buried in her lap, his body racked with sobs. She tipped his head back and looked down at his tear blotched face. Taking a handkerchief from Brian she wiped away the mixture of mucus and saliva that dribbled down the boy's face from his nose and mouth. She lent forward and kissed his wet cheeks tasting the salt of his tears.

Brian appeared from the kitchen carrying a mug of warm sweet milk. He squatted down beside Nicky and held it to his lips. The boy gagged and some of the milk trickled down his chin.

"If you've got a rubber sheet anywhere I think it would be as well to put it on his bed tonight," Brian said.

"There's one in the airing cupboard some where from when Nicky was small I'll go and find it," she said.

When she returned some fifteen minutes later she was carrying her hair brush.

"I thought I could warm Adam up for the cane while you carry Nicky up to his bed." she explained settling herself once again in the kitchen chair.

"An excellent idea," Brian replied as he stood up with Nicky cradled in his arms.

"Adam come here and get over your Mothers knee. Quick boy."

As he carried Nicky upstairs he heard the crack of wood impacting on bare flesh and a boy's howl of pain. He smiled to himself Mary was certainly developing into a very effective disciplinarian.

He placed Nicky face down on his bed. He brought a hand towel soaked with cold water and laid it over the boy's raw backside. Nicky stirred.

"I'm sorry Dad," he murmured through his sobs.

"Nicky that's over now. You know the rule. The beating cancels the offence. We aren't going to say anything more about it."

Brian gently ruffled the boy's fair hare. Nicky looked up at him and smiled.

"Thanks Dad." he whispered.

Brian smiled back and left the room. He had work to do else where.

Nicky lay on the bed on the edge of consciousness prevented from sleeping by his burning rump and the increasingly loud cries rung from Adam as that boy's beating progressed.

Later Nicky dosed. He was brought back to full conscouness by the sound of Adam whimpering. Brian guided the boy across to Nicky's bed supporting him with a hand clasping the top of his arm.

"Get down on the bed beside Nicky and let me have a look at that bottom of yours."

Nicky shifted over to make room for the other boy and Adam stretched himself face down on the bed beside him.

"What a fuss," Brian said. "I wouldn't describe that as anything more than medium rare. Still I'll put a damp towel on it and I'll put a fresh one on you as well Nicky."

After the man had tended their raw bottoms he covered the boys up with the duvet from the spare bed. Then he patted them on their heads and left the room switching the light off.. Nicky waited until he was sure he had gone back to the sitting room.

"How many did they give you?" he whispered.

"Ten with the cane but your Mum softened my bum up first with the hair brush. She really laid into me."

"She does doesn't she," Nicky said with some pride.

"I'm sorry you caught it when you were only trying to help me," he continued.

"Oh that's all right. Serves me right. It's Dad's decision who gets beaten and how much. I deserved it really."

"It was still very good of you."

"Well I need to look after you. You're my little brother."

"Not all that little," Nicky protested. "You're only eleven months and four days older then me."

"Well I'm still your older brother and I'm bigger than you," Adam rested his arm across Nicky's bare back and squeezed him asserting his seniority. Nicky wriggled close up against him.

Mary checked on the two boys on her way to bed . Enough light entered their bedroom from the landing light to see their two heads, one dark, one fare, side by side on the single pillow. The duvet had slipped down the bed. Adams arm still rested across Nicky's thin shoulders. She called Brian to her.

"It doesn't look as if we will have much trouble with the boys

Brian smiled.

"I think I'll buy that boogy board for Nicky tomorrow," he said. "Adam can come with me and he can have a wet suit. He was onto me last year for one. He'll be OK tomorrow but I expect Nicky will not be up to much."

"You're very fond of those boys," Mary said a note of envy in her voice.

"I am."

"More than of me?"

"Mary," Brian said seriously, " I think there are many different sorts of love. We both love those boys as parents love their children. We love them for their liveliness, their generosity and all their other qualities but we know that because we love them and care for them we have a responsibility to them to restrain and teach them. We love each other as adult men and women love each other. We draw strength from each other and compliment each other. The boys love us as children love their parents with just a hint of fear, which is as it should be. Don't you agree? What do you think?"

"I think," Mary replied with a quiet laugh, "that as we have a child by each of us it would be nice if we had a child by both of us."

"So do I," said Brian. "Let's see what we can do about that."

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