BRUNO AND HUGUES
by BERTRAND (translated from French to English by TRAMBERT)
You can find just about anything in an old attic, and when you're fifteen, it's a lot of pleasure to go up and look around. Bruno and his friend Hugues spent whole Sundays there when it rained. It was a special place, all their own: they would drink the rum Bruno sneaked out of the kitchen in chipped glasses, sprawled on old beat-up box springs playing cards (Bruno taught Hugues how to play poker, and he was a good student). The main thing, of course, was to root around. "Look! This must be Charlie Chaplin's cane."
Hugues had just discovered a long, thin, supple rattan cane.
"No, that's an English headmaster's cane. My grandfather brought it back from Eton years ago. It was used to cane English schoolboys."
They were silent for a moment, each thinking that English schoolboys didn't have much luck. Hugues asked Bruno for more details. He wanted to know if the cane was still used, if it hurt, who did the caning, up to what age boys were caned. Bruno answered off the top of his head: he thought it was still used, but perhaps less than before, that it must hurt a lot, especially pants down! That in some schools, the older boys did the caning themselves. His grandfather had told him that when he was a French teacher in England fifty years ago, he had seen boys aged 12 to 18 caned in serious cases by the director of the school himself, in public.
The two teenagers mused. If they had been born in a different time and place, they would have been caned at school! They were still at an age where corporal punishment was possible, with three years to go before reaching their majority. They felt a sense of solidarity with all boys who were beaten, and they hated the world of adults a little more.
They talked about it. In England, it could be a classmate who administered the caning. More than the punishment itself, the humiliation of being bent over a table to be whipped by a boy their own age seemed terribly, especially if they had to lower their trousers and be caned on the bare buttocks! Then it occurred to them that the roles could be reversed, it could be they who did the whipping. They looked at one another, then at the cane, then again at one another. Bruno would like to cane Hugues, who would like to cane Bruno... Neither of them wanted to be on the receiving end! They realized they were thinking the same thing and were embarrassed. Hugues didn't like the silent, knowing atmosphere, and cleared his throat. He waited for Bruno to break the silence. In their games, Bruno always made the decisions, and Hugues went along. Bruno was in charge. Bruno always had the idea, and Hugues always agreed. Hugues liked it that way, for he hated having to make a decision. He found it more comfortable to obey, and in fact that is why he got along so well with Bruno--even if Bruno took advantage of it sometimes and used him as a flunky or a scapegoat.
The tension mounted. Bruno, still not saying anything, whipped the cane audibly through the air and stared at his friend's backside. Prudently, Hugues spoke up to change the subject.
"You want to play poker?"
"OK."
Usually they played for matches, but this time Bruno wanted something more exciting. They couldn't play for money, since they didn't have enough... The cane! They would play for strokes of the cane! Bruno announced this to Hugues, who winced. He had suggested poker precisely to take their minds off the cane. But of course he gave in, once again.
"All right."
They started playing. Slowly but surely, the stakes mounted. Bruno was very excited and played badly, taking too many risks. Hugues, on the contrary, was careful. He really didn't like to lose, but it happened sometimes. Finally, after an hour, Hugues was to receive sixty strokes of the cane and Bruno ninety-six. They had yet to discover that these were ridiculous figures, and that twelve hard strokes were almost more than a person could bear. Hugues decided he was in a position of force and asked that the game end.
"OK."
"You're going to get twenty-six more strokes than me!"
"Maybe so, but you'd better be gentle, or else after your sixty strokes, you won't be able to sit down for a week!"
"How about if we cancel out: I don't get any and you only get the twenty-six?"
Bruno thought fast. This was not at all what he wanted. He had no desire to be caned; on the contrary, he wanted to cane Hugues. He couldn't accept the humiliation of having his friend cane him, even if his turn came next. He would have to scare him. He decided to bluff:
"OK, we'll do that--but for every stroke I let you off, you let me off two!"
"Ah, no!"
"Take it or leave it. Otherwise you'll have to take your sixty strokes, and believe me, you'll feel them."
"Yes, but you'll get ninety-six!"
"But like I said, you'd better be gentle or when it's my turn, you won't believe the whipping you'll get!"
Hugues thought about the new situation. He imagined himself giving Bruno ninety-six little taps for fear of Bruno's wrath. He could hear Bruno threatening him whenever he hit him a little harder, then it would be his turn and Bruno would be strict, very strict, in revenge. Of course, he could receive the cane first, and then get his vengeance afterward, but what if Bruno was a bad sport and refused to let him? No matter how he looked at it, he was trapped.
"What if we just forgot all about it?"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Either we make the exchange like I said, or its sixty versus ninety-six."
Hugue's rear end tingled. He would have to do it. Of course, he would accept the exchange, to get as few strokes as possible. They did their arithmetic, argued about it, did it again: ninety-six divided by two was forty-three. Sixty minus forty-three was seventeen. Although he knew it was completely unfair, Hugues agreed to be caned because that was the law of the jungle, the strongest gave the orders. He wouldn't have dared really hurt Bruno, but he knew Bruno wouldn't hesitate to be severe. He was on the verge of refusing altogether, but he didn't dare confront his adversary, whose mind was made up to administer the punishment. Bruno was whipping the cane through the air in an alarming fashion. Hugues decided to be as docile as possible in the hopes it would win Bruno's favor and result in a less violent correction. But Bruno was demanding: he ordered Hugues to drop his trousers to take his caning on the bare bottom. Hugues refused categorically.
The ensuing discussion was tense, but for once Hugues didn't want to give in. Bruno threatened to cane him terribly if Hugues didn't obey, but Hugues refused to give in, clinging to his adolescent modesty. Bruno understood that he was asking for too great a humiliation, but at the same time was eager for the excitement and pleasure he would get from whipping his friend with his pants down.
"I could strip, too. That way we'd be equal."
"..."
"Take it or leave it. I'm warning you, if you refuse you're really going to get it."
"All right. But you first."
"OK."
Bruno put down the cane and took off his shoes. Then he unbuttoned his trousers, dropped them and took them off. He took off his shirt and finally, his underwear. Hugues looked at his handsome, boyish body and noted that his friend had an erection. He would have loved to cane those perfect buttocks, but wouldn't dare do it too hard, for fear of damaging them and for fear of reprisal. Only an adult, he thought, could really give Bruno a whipping. Bruno was vexed to be exposed in front of another, but told himself he would extract quite a payment for it...
"Your turn."
"Already?"
"Hurry up!"
Hugues obediently began to strip. He took his time taking off his sweater, then unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. Next, the shoes, then, after a moment's hesitation, the trousers. Bruno saw that his friend was just as attractive as he was: tall, thin, beardless, Hugues trembled with fear and humiliation, as he stood in his socks and underwear. He knew he had to take his underwear off but couldn't make himself do it...
"Your underwear..."
"..."
"Your underwear, fast!"
Red as a beet, Hugues slowly stepped out of his underwear to be caned.
The two boys faced each other, naked. Bruno ordered Hugues to bend over, put his hands on his knees and prepare to be caned. He imagined his friend's buttocks, striped by the blows he was going to administer. He was aching to deliver the punishment. How should he go about it for Hugues to go through with it to the end? What should he say to convince him to take the correction without complaining? Threaten him with additional punishment? It wouldn't work. Hugues might defer to Bruno, but he'd be sure to revolt. He was expecting his seventeen strokes, but if they were too hard, too painful, he'd find the courage to refuse and put an end to what was, after all, a game. But Bruno knew that Hugues liked to obey. If he accepted this humiliating situation, he must find some satisfaction in it somewhere. He trusts his chosen master, but that master must know how to protect him, and give him some compensation to keep him obedient. It was time to start the punishment. He would cane him as hard as he could, because that submissive bottom, so provocative, was a great temptation for the one holding the cane!
"You're going to get a memorable punishment, you're really going to feel it!"
"Not too hard, OK?"
"If you keep still, I'll only give you twelve strokes. Got it?"
"Yes, Bruno."
"Get ready. You're really going to get it."
"Not too hard!"
"Stop talking or I'll give you seventeen. Understood?"
"..."
"Understood?"
"Yes."
Hugues waited anxiously for the first blow. Behind him, he heard Bruno lift the cane. A whistling sound and smack! Funnily, he felt nothing at first. He knew he'd been hit, that's all. It was only a few seconds later that the pain came through, irresistible, infernal, screaming, unbearable. He hadn't expected that--it was too much! This would have to stop, too bad if he had to disobey Bruno, there were times in life where one couldn't help oneself. To hell with the consequences, it was impossible to control himself after such a shock. Hugues turned around suddenly, rubbing his bottom, determined to say his piece to that bastard, Bruno. The two boys faced off and glared at each other. Neither was very happy with the other. Bruno was very angry. He felt his friend was being ungrateful: here he had taken five strokes off the sentence and Hugues was making no effort! It was unacceptable!
"You know what you've got coming?"
"I can't, it hurts too much."
"You were supposed to get seventeen strokes."
Hugues was cheered. Bruno had said "supposed to," meaning he actually wouldn't get seventeen. All was not lost.
"Oh, no, not seventeen, please!"
"assume the position at once. That first one doesn't count, we'll start again."
"There's only eleven left?"
"Twelve, I said we were starting again!"
Hugues bent over again. He wondered how he was going to stay still, now that he knew how much the cane hurt. Bruno gave him advice. "After each stroke, grit your teeth and squeeze your legs. It won't last long, maybe a second or two and then it'll be all right. Think of what you'll get if you move."
That was a good one! A second or two! Hah!
"Now count!"
Bruno raised the cane. He looked at his friend's bottom, where he could clearly see the mark of the first blow. He felt an amazing sense of power and savored his domination of Hugues. He hesitated about how hard to whip him. Should he be indulgent, or on the contrary, pitiless? It wasn't easy to choose. He felt scorn for his friend, who accepted this humiliation and resigned himself to be caned. If Hugues consented so easily to the punishment, he must deserve it! He must be want to go along with this obedience and discipline. It was clear: Bruno would have to be as severe as possible. WHACK!
"ONE!"
Hugues shouted the number. My God, it hurt. Don't move, don't move! It's so hard. Eleven more. How would he make it to the end? Oh, it hurt so much. Who but the English could invent such a thing? The cane was raised. WHACK!
"Ooooow! Two!"
His legs wobbled, he dug into his knees with his fingernails. He could hardly breathe. It was horrible to be caned. And to think there were boys who were caned regularly! How would he make it? The terrible pain didn't subside as quickly as all that. It took longer than a second or two, and there were ten more to come... WHACK!
"Ow! Ow! THREE! Stop, please stop!"
It was awful. Hugues begged. They had to stop. Bruno had to understand that it was too much. They couldn't go up to twelve. He started to sweat, his eyes were filled with tears. He sniffled, grit his teeth, held on to his knees. Obviously Bruno didn't want to hear about it. God! WHACK!
"Aaah! Ow! Ow! FOUR!" Don't move! Fight the urge to rub his buttocks. Resist, resist. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead to the floor.
"Stop! I can't take it. It hurts too much."
"No! We'll finish."
"Softer, then."
"You're getting my nerves. This will end badly for you."
_d_a_m_n_! Now he'd done it! He had irritated Bruno and made it worse for himself. Bruno was a miserable bastard who wouldn't listen to him. Asking for mercy had had the opposite effect, he should have kept his mouth shut. To show Bruno that he was cooperating, he stuck his bottom out well for the next stroke. WHACK!
"FIVE!"
Well, he deserved that one. He mustn't ruin Bruno's pleasure by begging him like he'd done. But it hurt just as much and there were still seven to go. Maybe if he was docile Bruno wouldn't cane him quite so hard. WHACK!
"SIX!"
"There, halfway through."
"You don't know how hard it is!"
"Hang in there."
Hugues was crying, sweating, he had goose pimples. The punishment was halfway over. His bottom felt like hamburger meat...
Meanwhile, Bruno was delighted. He hadn't imagined it would go so well. He couldn't understand how Hugues could take it, but that was his problem. Most of all, he was astonished that he could command such obedience. He admired his work: Hugue's bottom was well-striped, the marks would stay for days and he had a feeling of possession, like a Roman patrician branding a slave. Hugues belonged to him. WHACK!
"SEVEN!"
Only five more, five more! Obey, obey. Stick out your bottom to be caned. Cry, sweat, breathe hard, but don't try to get out of it, that's forbidden and will be punished. Resist. Cry and moan, but resist. WHACK!
"EIGHT! Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Hugues was on the point of cracking. He couldn't make it. He had just been caned in exactly the same place as stroke number four. The old pain was awoken and added to the new pain, and together it was unbearable. It was too much. It burned and stung, it was horrible. Hugues wept, he couldn't see straight. He was shaking, but he grit his teeth. He was sure Bruno had noticed that this stroke hurt for two, and that he liked the idea. He imagined Bruno's pleasure at watching him obey and struggle with his rebellion, and he didn't want to ruin it for him. Hugues presented his bottom for the cane. WHACK!
"NINE! Nine! Nine! Nine!"
There was no reason to repeat the number but it calmed him down a little. That one, too, hit a place that had already been whipped. At this point, there was no way to avoid it. Bruno was hitting as hard as ever, and Hugues guessed how happy he was; he began to feel a strange joy at being whipped for the other's pleasure, but the pain was even worse now. Only three more! Only three more! WHACK!
"TEN!"
It would be over soon. Would he be able to sit down? While he felt that Bruno was a real bastard, he couldn't help admiring him for his determination. He practically felt that it was normal that he should be caned so severely, and he couldn't see how he could get out of the five extra strokes he'd get if he moved. The only solution was not to deserve them. WHACK!
"ELEVEN"!
Don't move! Stay still until the end. Never had he cried and sweat this way, never had he sobbed and suffered so much. What a terrible humiliation. Bruno gazed greedily at the results of his efforts. Hugue's bottom was striped all over. The marks would stay a long time. There was a little blood, but not much. He had to make this last stroke the best one, Hugues had to really taste it. What pleasure to be obeyed! What satisfaction to see this boy suffering so but sticking out his bottom, no doubt for fear of additional punishment. What a good idea to have given him the five strokes off! Reducing the sentence, what a good trick! WHACK!
"TWELVE!"
It was over, over, over. Hugues put his hands on his buttocks. He hopped up and down whimpering and sobbing and crying. It was over. Through his tears he saw Bruno looking at him furiously.
"The next time, you'll wait for my permission to straighten up after the last stroke, understood?"
"Yes!"
Hugues was shocked. What? Not a consoling word? Not a word of congratulations? He realized that his "yes" had confirmed what Bruno had implied, that there would be a next time. But he needed comforting and tenderness too badly to discuss it. He was exhausted, he would go along with anything. Bruno understood this and finally took him in his arms.
How long did he cry? Those caresses, sometimes furtive but not all innocent--how long did they last? They took a shower later and Hugues was uncomfortable sitting for the next few days. The marks lasted for ten days, but everyone knows that a bottom heals eventually.
It's hard to keep an exact count of how many times Bruno gave Hugues a caning. Bruno knows when it's needed, and Hugues' protestations are in vain. Will there be more in the future? In any case, the last one took place only yesterday...