Eric's Story [Parts1and2]

Eric's father was middle aged, but still extremely active. Daniel Williamson stood 6 foot 4 inches tall, weighed in at about 210 pounds, (not a single ounce of fat, either!), and had the same hair and eyes his son had. Lisa Williamson, Eric's mother, was a professional in her own right. She worked as a para-legal secretary for a large law firm in Chicago. She stood about 5 foot 9, weighed approximately 105, and had luxurious blonde hair and blues eyes. She was just as active as her husband; in fact, all three enjoyed a very active lifestyle.

Though not exactly wealthy, they were more than well-off. His parents made sure that Eric had what he needed, and even supplied a few luxuries when they felt he had earned them. The discipline in the house was strict, but fair. When Eric did do something wrong and needed to be punished, his parents always took the time to cool down first, then talk with him to explain the what's, why's and wherefore's that he necessitated him being punished. Eric had always been treated with dignity and respect; he had learned, early on, to treat others in the same fashion.

He was no "goody-two-shoes", either. He was all boy, and could get into trouble. Those instances were few and far between, though, for he remembered what happened when he did. Those across the knee sessions he'd had with his father, and his mother, for she never believed in "Wait 'til your father gets home, young man!", were still painful in his memory. He did much to avoid them, making sure he chose his friends carefully.

About two weeks ago, they had all moved to Minnesota; a place called Ceaderville. His father had decided that it was time to move on and forge his own company. He had the money to do it, and also had gathered about him the necessary individuals who were willing to move with him. That having been settled, he went home that night and held a "Family Meeting" after dinner. This was the custom in Eric's home. Any decision that affected the three of them had to be discussed and voted upon.

In the family meeting, Eric's father had laid everything out for them, explained why it would be good, then waited for his wife's and Eric's input. Lisa saw that there was excellent potential for her work to continue, and was attracted to the rural life-style in Ceaderville.

His mother and father noted that there was an excellent private school there called Ceaderville Academy. This didn't bother Eric, for he had gone to the Lexington Academy in Chicago, which also was a boys only school.

Eric, on his part, saw definite advantages. He loved hiking, climbing, camping and hunting. He also saw that there was a Computer Science department in the new school, and was glad about that. At the end of the discussion, it was decided to make the move.

They had settled into a house that was just outside of town. It was a large house; a two story colonial sitting on two acres of land that had a good portion of woods on it. Eric was taken by it the first time he saw it. When he saw the room that was to be his, he was really happy! The room itself was large; 18 by 12, with a large "walk-in" closet. When he saw it, he knew that he'd have more than enough room for all his computer equipment and his sports equipment, too.

The movers came the next day, and everything was moved in. Eric had asked his father for a new computer work station for his room. His father said yes, for he was really pleased with his son's computer activity. Eric had even helped his father on two projects, and for that he had received a portion of the profits from the sale of those computer programmes. The money, save for an allowance, was put into the bank towards his college education.

After the next day, Eric looked at his room, completely finished. He was really happy with the new computer station; with everything he had in the room. The best thing, he thought, was that it was all his own! His father had even acceded to the point that Eric needed a new computer to go with the new station. A new 486DXII, 99 Herz, 2 GIG hard drive, 28.8 32 vbis FAX Modem, OCR scanner and peripherals, with a tape drive for back-ups. Monitor, speakers, microphone, a full-colour laser printer and a complete set of software completed the package. Yes, Eric was one happy camper.

He went to school for the first time the next day. He was not nervous, (well, not *THAT* much!), and got into his normal school attire: tan Levi's' pleated front "Dockers", light blue button-down collar Oxford shirt; red, silver and black regimental striped tie, and a dark blue single-breasted blazer. Black penny loafers and belt completed the outfit. He took another look in the mirror, gave his hair another brush, then smiled. He was ready for the day!

Eric liked the school, especially most of the teachers he would be having. He also liked the fact that the school dress code allowed the boys to wear blue jeans to school. They had to be un-ripped or marked, clean and in good repair. Formal attire was only required on certain days that were announced well beforehand. At the supper table that night, he mentioned this, and spoke of the two that he liked the best: Mr. Northstrom, the Comp SCI instructor, and Mr. Erickson, the History instructor.

Mr. Erickson was also the Dean of Corrections in the school. If a boy misbehaved, he was sent to Mr. Erickson for punishment. Depending on the severity of the infraction, one could get 3 swats on the seat of the pants, or, if it was really bad, 12 swats on the seat of your underpants. Some might think that this was harsh; that Mr. Erickson would be roundly feared and hated by the student population. This was not the case here. He was respected by all; even loved by some. His punishments were deemed fair, even by some of the more rowdy crowd. He told his parents that he had really hit it off with both Mr. Northstrom and Mr. Erickson.

Eric's mother and father had no problems with the corporal punishment in Eric's new school. It was the same way, almost, as in the Lexington Academy Eric had gone to before. Both parents had had a long meeting with the school's Dean before enrolling Eric. Eric was to understand, his father had said, that if he was ever spanked in school, another would be waiting for him when he got home. He nodded at this, promising to himself that he wasn't about to let that happen!

Another good thing was one of the other boys he'd met in school. Tommy Lindstrom was about his age, was built much the same way that Eric was, except he had blonde hair that was almost white and piercing blue eyes. He shared much the same interests that Eric did, especially the hunting and camping. Tommy lived with his parents on a large farm about 10 miles out of town. Tommy told Eric about the great hunting out there, and invited Eric to go hunting with him soon. Eric was really pleased by this, and it only made the fast-friendship he felt for Tommy grow that much more.

Soon they became inseparable, doing many of the same things at the same time, except for one thing: computers. Tommy's father had an almost irrational hatred of the things; wouldn't let either of his sons take any computer courses as long as they lived under his roof! He was a firm believer in staying on the farm, working it as his father, grandfather, etc., had done for generations. Eric was saddened by this, especially when Tommy came over to his house and saw his set-up.

He looked at his friend; saw the naked longing in his eyes to learn about them, and told him that he'd teach him about the computer -- if he wanted. Tommy brightened at this, and said, yes, please! I *want* to learn all about it! The only thing that Eric had to do, whenever he came out to his house, was to not let Tommy's dad hear about what Tommy was doing. Tommy's dad didn't care if other parents let their kids work on computers, he was just not hearing about Tommy doing anything with them.

Eric then asked why it would be such a big thing. Tommy said that his dad would definitely get the belt out and tan his bottom good if he ever heard about it. His dad had real strong ideas about how boys should be raised. They didn't answer back, they only did as they were told, when they were told to do it. If they didn't, it meant a trip to the woodshed and a very sore red bottom afterwards.

Eric said that that was a crazy way to think! He was about to tell Tommy about how his parents were with him when he saw Tommy start to get angry. When asked why, Tommy said that he liked Eric enough, but he would stop being friends with him if he ever said anything bad about his dad again. Eric let the subject drop, vowing never to say anything to distress his friend. With that settled, they went back to they way they were before.

Two weeks later, a situation came up that required both of Eric's parents to travel back to Chicago. They would be gone a week, making the final settlements in their respective companies. At supper, Eric's father had asked Eric if he had any friends he could stay with so that he wouldn't miss school. Eric promptly mentioned Tommy as a possibility. His parents liked the idea, for they had met Tommy and instantly liked the boy. With that settled, Eric's father said that he would stop by and see Mr. Lindstrom, whom he'd met briefly a few times before. If Mr. Lindstrom was agreeable, then Eric would stay at Tommy's house for the time they were away.

The next day, Mr. Williamson met with Mr. Lindstrom. The meeting went well, but, Mr. Williamson had a faint doubt about letting his son stay with him. During their conversation, Mr. Williamson found out that Mr. Lindstrom was basically a Fundamentalist, with strong ties to religion. He had asked about how discipline was in the house; Mr. Lindstrom was forthright when he said that he held with spanking a boy when he misbehaved. Mr. Williamson nodded at this, and said he felt the same way -- within reason.

Then Mr. Williamson offered to repay Mr. Lindstrom for letting Eric stay at his place. Mr. Lindstrom said that wouldn't be necessary. The only repayment for Eric staying there for the week was that Eric would have to help Tommy with his chores before and after school. Mr. Williamson agreed to this, knowing that Eric wouldn't shun hard work.

Mr. Williamson countered with the point that Eric would have to be allowed to get to their house to work on his computer. Mr. Williamson explained that Eric had been developing a rather complicated communications programme that was to be his entry for his computer class project. At the mention of the word "computer", Mr. Lindstrom held forth that he didn't believe in the consarned contraptions, but, if it was for school, which he firmly believed in, he agreed to make sure that Eric could get to his computer. With everything agreed upon, the two men shook hands and Mr. Lindstrom left.

As he watched Mr. Lindstrom go, a faint worry-frown creased his brow. It was the way Mr.Lindstrom reacted to his mention of computers. He was beginning to have second thoughts about Eric staying at the Lindstrom's when a call came in from Chicago. It seemed that there was no way of post-poning the meetings he had scheduled. It had to be done within the next week. Reluctantly, Mr. Williamson agreed, and put the reservation to the back of his mind.

On the day Eric's parents were to leave, they arrived early at the Lindstrom's farm to drop Eric off. As Eric's father opened the trunk so Eric could get out his suitcase, he told Eric that he wanted him to behave while he was there. If he did get out of line, Eric was told, Mr. Lindstrom had his permission to spank him.

Eric said that he would behave, for he understood that if he did do anything that earned him a spanking, one would be waiting for him when his parents returned from their trip. Smiling at his son, Eric's father hugged him, and said that he didn't think that was going to happen.

Hugging his father back, fiercely, he said that he loved his papa, and wouldn't do anything to cause him worry while they were gone. After a few words with the Lindstroms, Eric's parents got back into their car, waved to Eric, and left for the airport.

Meanwhile, Tommy took Eric up to his room to help Eric get settled. When Eric saw there was only one bed, Tommy said, sheepishly, that they didn't have a spare cot for him to sleep on. He would have to share Tommy's bed. Shrugging, Eric said he didn't mind, much, besides, it was only for the week. Then, jokingly, he said to Tommy that he hoped he didn't snore or hog the covers! Tommy laughed, punching him in the shoulder, saying that he didn't do either.

With Tommy's punch, which Eric knew wasn't serious, Eric laughed and began to wrestle with his friend. They both wound up on the floor, tussling about, for they were evenly matched. They were laughing all the while, but stopped suddenly when they heard Tommy's dad yelling at them to cut it out, right now!

The two boys stood up, soberly, and re-arranged their shirts, tucking them back into their pants. Mr. Lindstrom looked at the boys, sternly, and told them they didn't have time to waste on such nonsense. There were chores that needed to get done, and it was time to do them.

Looking at Eric, he said that it would be a good idea to get out of his fancy clothes and get into some decent work clothes. He was told he had five minutes to get changed and meet Tommy in the barn for chores. With that, he gave the boys one more glowering look, then turned on his heel and left Tommy's room.

Tommy was going to stay and help Eric unpack his stuff, but Eric told him to go on; he'd meet him in the barn. He didn't want to admit it, but, Mr. Lindstrom's remarks and the way he had looked at Eric made him angry. Stifling such a thought, he opened his suitcase and started to put things where Tommy told him they should go. After Tommy left, Eric took off his good clothes and got into a pair of Levi's' 501s, and put on his hiking boots. He then put on a denim shirt, took his other clothes and hung them up in the closet. Finally ready, he went down the stairs and out to the barn.

The work they did was hard and dirty. Eric didn't mind in the least, for he had done such work on his aunt's farm in Virginia. Eric worked right along with Tommy and the hired hands. When Mr. Lindstrom came out to help, Eric found that Mr. Lindstrom was watching him intently. This made Eric work all the harder, just to prove to Mr. Lindstrom that he was able to do it. It obviously worked, for Mr. Lindstrom stopped looking his way; even giving Eric grudging approval at the work he'd accomplished. With the chores completed, they made their way back to the house.

Mr. Lindstrom made both boys clean off their boots outside the back door, then said they could go in. On the back porch, he told the boys to wait there. They did, and he soon returned with a stiff bristled brush. Motioning to Tommy, who went over to him, Mr. Lindstrom then took the brush and worked it over Tommy's jeans. With the mud, which had dried, cleaned off the legs and seat of Tommy's jeans, Mr. Lindstrom motioned to Eric to come over for the same treatment. Eric said that he could do it for himself, please, and not for Mr. Lindstrom to worry about it. Mr. Lindstrom told him that he was to mind what he was told to do and get over to get brushed off.

Reluctantly, Eric went over to stand in front of Mr. Lindstrom. Mr. Lindstrom started on the legs of his jeans, all the while saying that it was his job to see that the boys came to supper without any mud on their pants. Eric said nothing, just watched as Mr. Lindstrom cleaned off the legs of his jeans.

When it came to the seat though, Mr. Lindstrom brought the brush down hard on his bottom, as if he were spanking Eric while cleaning him off. Eric stood there, not moving a muscle, but got a strange, uncomfortable feeling as Mr. Lindstrom gave the seat of his Levi's' a thorough going-over. His bottom hurt from the treatment, but, he just remained motionless, saying nothing. Mr. Lindstrom, seeming satisfied that the job was finished, gave one more hard brush stroke to Eric's rear, then said that the boys could now go and get washed up for supper.

As they washed, Tommy said to Eric that he was one lucky boy! At Eric's curious glance, Tommy told him that if he or his brother Marty had *ever* said what Eric had, they would have gone to the woodshed *for sure*! Eric looked thoughtful as he finished washing, then followed Tommy down to supper.

The meal was wonderful; Mrs. Lindstrom was one heck of a cook! After grace was said by Mr. Lindstrom, both boys fell to, eating heartily. Mrs. Lindstrom beamed at the boys, saying that she always felt her meals were a success when people ate as the boys did. Mr. Lindstrom, though, ate silently, nor encouraged much talk at the table. It seemed he considered eating no different from working: it was a job to do, and best done with full attention paid to it. The few times Eric tried to strike up a conversation, Tommy kicked him underneath the table, then gave him a warning look. Eric finally gave up, and finished his meal.

After dinner, the boys helped Mrs. Lindstrom with the dishes, then went back to the kitchen table to do their homework. Both boys had managed to get most of it done during their last period study-hall, and soon finished what remained. Eric then asked Tommy if he would like to play some chess. Tommy was agreeable, but he'd never learned the game. Eric smiled, then went to their room, got his portable chess board, and set it up on the kitchen table. Soon the boys were engrossed with the game, for Tommy was a quick student. They were almost to end-game when Mr. Lindstrom came into the kitchen to see what the boys were up to, and to tell them it was time to get ready for bed.

Seeing what they were doing, a frown creased his brow. He asked Tommy when he'd taken up such a high-falutin' game as chess. Tommy ducked his head, then told his dad that he'd just started learning from Eric. Frowning at Eric, Mr. Lindstrom said it was time for them to get ready for bed. Eric glanced at his watch, noting that it was only 8:30. He looked at Mr. Lindstrom and asked, very politely, if they could finish the game, please; that it was still early.

It looked as if Mr. Lindstrom was going to get mad again, but, before he could, Tommy grabbed the game and pulled Eric along with him. He said that it was okay, they cold finish it tomorrow. It was time for bed, and that was that. Eric allowed himself to be pulled along by Tommy, but was a little upset at having to get ready for bed so early. At home, he was allowed to get ready for bed at 9:00, then allowed to go on the "Net" for another hour or two, if it was a Friday night. Lights had to be out no later than 10:30.

Getting into the room, Eric then decided to accept it, philosophically, and went to get out his pajamas. He was getting undressed when he noted that Tommy was not in the room. Thinking he was just in the bathroom, Eric continued getting undressed. He only had his jeans and socks on when Tommy came back into the bedroom accompanied by his dad. Eric looked up, surprised to see that Tommy was standing there wearing only his white cotton briefs.

He stopped undressing, then was going to ask what was going on, when Mr. Lindstrom spoke. Mr. Lindstrom told Eric, when he saw the pj's on the bed, that boys in this house slept in their underpants. There wasn't any need for such fripperies, he said. Now, if Eric would get ready for bed, properly, he and Tommy could have some ice cream before they went to bed.

Eric said thank you, then stood to re-fasten his jeans. He was stopped by Mr. Lindstrom who said he was to be ready for bed before he could have the ice cream. Eric looked at Mr. Lindstrom, then asked if he meant he should be stripped down to his underpants, then go downstairs in front of Mrs. Lindstrom in only his briefs? Shaking his head, Eric said, on second thought, sir, I'll have to pass on the ice cream. He sat back down and began taking off his socks when he heard a gasp. Looking up at Tommy, he saw that his friend had a scared look on his face. Mr. Lindstrom, however, from the look on his face, was not a happy man!

He said to Eric that he was usually a patient man, but Eric, with his high falutin' ways was starting to get on his nerves. Ice cream was a treat in this house, only given when work was well done. Eric would have the ice cream, and be ready for bed before he ate it, or there would be problems. Eric noted that Tommy had a pleading look on his face, begging Eric to stop arguing and get on to the ice cream.

Sighing, Eric nodded, then took off his other sock. He unbuckled his belt, unfastened the buttons of his fly, and took off his jeans. Folding them neatly, he laid them on the chair, when he heard another gasp from Tommy. Wondering what was wrong now, Eric looked up and saw that Mr. Lindstrom's face was as dark as a thundercloud. Trying to figure out what he'd done wrong now, he was about to ask what was the matter when Mr. Lindstrom spoke again.

I don't know where you come from, Mr. Lindstrom said, sternly, but in this house, boy's wear underpants that are white. Those blue ones are not right. Turning to Tommy, Mr. Lindstrom told him to get a pair of his briefs and lend them to Eric. He'd see about getting the boy some proper underwear tomorrow. Tommy quickly got out a pair of his Fruit of the Looms for Eric to wear, then silently handed them to Eric.

Eric just stood there, not believing that all this was happening. First, the semi-spanking, then no conversation at dinner, then getting ready for bed at 8:30, now wearing only white cotton underpants! It seemed that Mr. Lindstrom was just looking for an excuse, any excuse, to tan Eric's bottom. Eric had been willing to go along with whatever Mr. Lindstrom told him to do, or expected him to do, but this was almost it for him! He'd just about had enough of Mr. Lindstrom and all his sneering!

He didn't really care about being in just his briefs; (well, not much, that is!), it was the implied insult to his parents that got to him! He had been told to stand up for himself, ever since he had been real little. His parents had taught him well what to do and what not to do; they were pleased with him! Yet, this Mr. Lindstrom was just about saying that his parents were no good at being parents; that they were wrong for letting him wear blue underpants!

Eric was about to speak when he saw that pleading look on Tommy's face. He then remembered his promise to his father; to make no trouble while he was staying at Tommy's house. After a moment's more hesitation, Eric took the proffered briefs, then was going to go to the bathroom to change into them, when he was halted, yet again, by Mr. Lindstrom. He told Eric to strip out of them, right now, and get into the underpants right there. When he saw that Mr. Lindstrom was not going to give him the privacy he would have given even to the lowliest person on earth, he turned his back to them and started to take off his underpants.

He just about had his own off when Mr. Lindstrom told him to turn around and face him. Now blushing furiously, for he had never been treated in this fashion, he took off his underpants and turned to face Mr. Lindstrom naked. His eyes were like fiery emeralds as he stared into Mr. Lindstrom's cloudy grey ones.

The anger at this unnecessary humiliation must have shone forth, for Mr. Lindstrom just told him to get the underpants on. Slowly, deliberately, Eric leaned over, put his right leg through the opening, then put his left leg in, and slowly pulled the underpants up. His eyes never left Mr. Lindstrom's while he was getting into the briefs, but the humiliation he was bearing had now caused almost his entire body to go red.

He was shaking in barely controlled anger at the situation he was in. Getting control of himself, he finally said to Mr. Lindstrom, in a calm, icy voice, that he was sorry that he had not known, in advance, what he was to bring and wear while he was staying there. He also said that the choice of apparel had been his own, bought with his own money, after being approved by his parents -- who also had ideas as to what boys should wear. He finished saying that all this had made him quite tired, and that he would like to go directly to bed, please. Privately, he said to himself that the ice cream could rot in hell for all he was worth!

Mr. Lindstrom said not a word, but Tommy had groaned at Eric's first statement, squeezed his eyes closed at his second, then covered his eyes with his hands at Eric's final statement. He said to his dad to please not be hard on Eric; it was his first night, and he didn't know any better. It wasn't his fault, Tommy said, but different people did things differently.

Mr. Lindstrom stood there, acting as if his son hadn't said a single word. He started shaking his head, then said, almost to himself, yes; there seems to be a call for a little attitude adjustment. Definitely time for some negative feedback. He then told Eric, you've a lot to learn, son, and now was the time to learn it.

Standing straight as an arrow, his shoulders thrown back, Eric told him, quietly, that he was not *his* son!

Mr. Lindstrom stood as if he'd had a bucket of ice-cold water thrown over him. He went over to the bed, taking Eric by the arm, then sat down and pulled Eric across his lap. He then told Eric that he was being kind to him, punishing him on his underpants, but he had to pay for his back-sassing! He wouldn't take it off of his own sons; he'd be _d_a_m_n_ed if he'd take it off of Eric! Then, his arm raised, he brought his hard hand down, forcefully, landing squarely on the "sit-down" spot on Eric's bottom. He then continued to paddle Eric with his bare hand, the blows increasing with force at each swat.

Eric closed his eyes as he was being spanked. He had been spanked before, by his father, but it was usually on the seat of his pants. His father's spankings still hurt like the devil, but not as much as this spanking was hurting him. His eyes misted over at the fifth swat, the tears started to come at the tenth. By the fifteenth swat, he was crying freely -- but he was making no sounds! He was swearing that he wouldn't give Mr. Lindstrom the satisfaction!

When Mr. Lindstrom had given him twenty swats, he pulled Eric up off of his lap, then held him in front of him. Now, you can get your behind in that bed and get to sleep, boy, said Mr. Lindstrom angrily. Eric was almost cheering; he'd seen that Mr. Lindstrom had expected him to be wailing by now! Instead, all Mr. Lindstrom saw in Eric's eyes was anger mixed with hate. The boy made no move to rub his sore bottom, glowing red through the seat of the white cotton underpants he now wore, and really quite sore. With a growl, Mr. Lindstrom stood up, lifted Eric up and placed him in the bed. He turned to leave, saying that Tommy could still have some ice cream.

Tommy then did something he thought he'd never do in his life. He turned to his dad and told him no, thank you. He was tired, too, and only wanted to get to bed; that it was late. Mr. Lindstrom glared from boy to boy, then came back into the room. With a swift movement, he lifted Tommy up as he had Eric, turned him over in his arm, gave him three sharp swats to the seat of his underpants, then pushed him into the bed. He roughly covered the two boys, then told them to get to sleep. Stopping at the door to turn the lights out, he glared at Eric, then said, softly, we'll talk about this some more in the morning.

The boys lay there, quietly, until they heard Tommy's dad's footsteps had gone. Tommy was on his belly, crying softly. Eric was on his backside, welcoming the pain it caused, for he wanted to remember this. Hearing Tommy crying, though, made him feel sad. He turned on his side to face Tommy, then told him he was sorry that he messed things up and for getting him spanked.

Tommy told Eric that he wasn't crying about that; it was the fact that Eric had gotten whipped. He had never thought about it much, but, seeing what Eric had done brought back memories of how his older brother Marty had acted to just the same treatment. He had seen the same fire in his brother's eyes he'd seen in Eric's'; seen the same stance in Eric, too! Eric asked, gently, softly, as to what happened to Tommy's brother.

Getting up on his side to face Eric, Tommy told him that his brother had left home when he was eighteen and joined the Navy. He'd been gone for eight years now. In letters he'd received; those that his dad would let him have, that is, Tommy's bother told him that he'd finished his education, got his college degree, and had been selected for Officer's Training School. He was now a full lieutenant, serving in the aircraft carrier "Enterprise" as Third Air Operations officer.

Tommy told Eric that he was proud of his brother; loved him, too. He knew his mother felt the same way, but, to his dad, his brother was dead. It was as if Marty had never been born. He refused to hear Marty's name, wouldn't let them write to him, wouldn't let mail through, though he sometimes let some slip by, and would never take a call from him, or let others take a call, even during Thanksgiving or Christmas.

This made Tommy said, and also made him feel mad. He couldn't understand why his dad was so upset at Marty. Tommy then said, quietly, that he had just gotten a letter three weeks ago. In the letter Tommy'd received, his brother told him that the next time "Enterprise" came into port in the Great Lakes, he was going to fly himself out to see him and his mother. When Tommy had written back that that was not such a good idea, his brother had sent back that he really didn't care what their dad thought; he was going to come -- no matter what. He also wrote that "Enterprise" would be getting into port on the 20th, which was just one week away.

Tommy was excited about seeing his brother, but also scared at what might happen. Eric tried to re-assure his friend, then said they'd better get to sleep. Tommy then asked, kind of shyly, if Eric would hold him for a bit. He explained to Eric that his brother had always done that when their dad had whipped him. Eric, feeling sorry for Tommy, and, though he wouldn't admit it, needed a hug right now, too, said sure, okay. The boys wrapped their arms around each other, falling asleep in each other's arms.

They were woken up at 5:30 by Tommy's dad. The boys had separated in the night, so Mr.Lindstrom knew nothing about their hugging. If he had, though Eric to himself, he probably would have beat hell out of us for being gay.

Not that it was for him, Eric thought, but he had no problems with anyone gay. He'd had several friends in Chicago and in the Academy that had been gay, but they had always treated others with respect and never forced themselves on anyone else. The few Neanderthals there who tried to pick on them soon found that they were not the soft creatures they'd been expecting. Soon even the Neanderthals were sticking up for them, if it was needed.

He was rudely shaken out of his reverie by Mr. Lindstrom ordering the boys out of the bed, to go to the bathroom, and get down to breakfast. There were some chores to be done before they went off to school. Eric got up, went over to the chair and started to pull his jeans back up to his waist. Tommy dashed over, grabbed him, and told him to come on, no time to put on your pants! Eric looked at Tommy, surprise on his face, then was forced to go by Tommy. They both went into the bathroom, mainly because Tommy hadn't let him go. Tommy then let him go, raised the lid on the toilet, pulled out his penis and started to pee.

Eric stood there, shocked, then tried to leave the bathroom to give Tommy his privacy. Tommy hissed at him to start peeing, quick, or there'd be hell to pay! He saw then that Mr. Lindstrom was standing there, checking up on the boys. Reluctantly, his face burning, he turned around and stood next to Tommy. He pulled down the front of his briefs, let his penis out, then started peeing. Finished, he pulled his shorts back up, then followed Tommy to the sink to wash their hands and face. Drying off, they put their towels back, neatly, then walked past Mr. Lindstrom.

Mrs. Lindstrom looked up as they entered the kitchen, saying good morning to the boys. She had expected to see Tommy in just his briefs, but was disturbed to see Eric just in his briefs, too. She didn't feel that it was right, but didn't say anything about it. She just gave her husband a stern look, letting him know that they would talk about this later. They sat down, Eric starting to wince, then forcing a bland look on his face, and started eating after Mr. Lindstrom said grace.

Mr. Lindstrom told Eric that he was glad that Eric had learned his lesson. He was shaping up to be a good boy. When his parents came back, they'd surely thank him for the way he'd instructed Eric. Maybe they would see that this was the way to treat a boy and raise him the rest of the way properly.

That was it! Eric had heard -- more-- than enough! He put down his fork, gently, then told Mr. Lindstrom exactly what he thought. He told Mr. Lindstrom, please and thank-you, that his parents had done very well by him. They had taught him well; raised him well, encouraging him to experiment and try things on his own. He had never gotten into trouble while at school, treated everyone with respect and tolerance, and never -- ever -- forced another person to live as he did!

As for the rest, he quietly, but firmly, said that he appreciated them letting him stay at their house. For the rest of the week, however, he would wear his pajamas and the briefs that his mother had packed for him. He would even do whatever task was set before him; would work very hard, but he would have to insist on being given the privacy one would even let a dog have.

He then looked Mr. Lindstrom squarely in the eye. He asked him why he was so intent on controlling everything? Why he treated even his own son, Tommy, with no respect or love? Eric then told him that was no way for a person to live; it squashed the spirit and left a person empty inside. That was what his father had told him, a long time ago. He believed what his father said, and Mr. Lindstrom should believe it, too! If Mr. Lindstrom thought he was wrong, why, then he'd take his own pants down and hand him the belt to tan his backside.

To prove he believed in what he had said, Eric then got up from the table, saw the razor strop hanging by the back door. He took it down, and thrust it on the table beside Mr. Lindstrom. Standing in front of the table, he shot his underpants down to his knees, then leaned over the table. He looked back at Mr. Lindstrom; the look in his eyes daring him to strike!

Mr. Lindstrom looked as if he was ready to burst at what Eric had said to him! Slowly, deliberately, he got up from the table. He pulled up Eric's underpants, then grabbed his arm and the razor strop, then started to take him back to Tommy's room. Mrs. Lindstrom was about to speak, but Mr. Lindstrom held up a finger at her. He then motioned Tommy to get up and go with them.

Arriving back in Tommy's room, Mr. Lindstrom told Eric to pull his underpants down and lean over the bed. You really mean to do this, Eric said, even though you know I'm right, yes? Mr. Lindstrom got even more angry, then grabbed Eric, forcing his underpants down to his knees, then bent him over the bed. Mr. Lindstrom told Eric that he didn't know what the hell he was talking about; he was punishing Eric for the way he'd spoken to him.

Tommy tried to stop him, begging his dad not to spank Eric! Mr. Lindstrom said that if Tommy continued with this nonsense, he could just as well take his underpants down and get what his friend was going to get. Tommy, sniffling, was going to do just that, when Eric told him to not be a fool; keep out of this! Tommy sniffled, again, and pulled his underpants back up in place. He folded his arms across his chest, then just stood there, his eyes wide.

Turning back to Eric, he told him that he was going to give him a good dose of medicine; every last drop of it. He then started with the strapping, giving tremendous force to each lash across Eric's bare bottom. Eric lay there, his hands stretched out in front of him, his hands clasped together. He was concentrating on them, trying to block out the pain he was feeling. He couldn't control his tears, but he could control his voice. Not a whimper escaped his tightly closed lips; not a sound. This seemed to anger Mr. Lindstrom even further, for he increased the force and the timing of the swats. He then told Eric that, by God, he'd make him cry out!

The whipping seemed to go on forever, when they heard Mrs. Lindstrom yell at her husband to stop, this instant! Turning to her, he told her to be quiet. This was just a matter of correcting a boy that needed correcting very badly. He was going to turn back and start whipping Eric again when she forced the strop from his hands. Look at what you've done, John Lindstrom, she shouted at him! He stopped, then looked closely at Eric's bottom, then shook his head and left the room, saying that was enough; he had work to do.

Eric slumped with relief when Mr. Lindstrom left the room. He was crying out-loud now, then started to put out his hand to feel his sore bottom. Mrs. Lindstrom was at his side, and gently stopped his hand. Looking at Tommy, she ordered him to get the medicine chest from under the sink in the bathroom. She told him to get a large pan and fill it with warm water, too. Tommy shot out the door, and was soon back with what his mother had asked for.

Mrs. Lindstrom then helped Eric up, and gently laid him down, on his belly, and softly told him not to move. As she cleaned up Eric's bottom, she thought she'd never seen such a mess before. Criss-cross welts were all over his buttocks, some were bleeding, some just weeping fluid. The boy's buttocks were a uniform beet-red, and swelling a bit, too. When the cuts had been washed and had stopped bleeding, she got some ice, made a large ice pack, and brought it back to the room. She laid it, gently, on Eric's bottom, who hissed at the weight and the chill it sent through his damaged flesh. The swelling abated, after a while, and Mrs. Lindstrom took the pack off, putting it in the pan.

All during this, Eric had not said a word. He was feeling anger and hate such as he had never felt before in his life! He had never, -- ever -- , in his life, felt this much pain in his backside! He began praying, silently, for his mother and father to finish their business early and come home quickly. It was then that a plan formed in his mind. He knew, now, how he would handle the situation. The plan, now crystalized in his mind, would be risky, but it would be worth it. He looked at his watch, then realized that the school bus would be there to pick him and Tommy up in forty-five minutes. Plenty of time to get dressed for school, he thought. He realized he must get to school today, pain notwithstanding.

Mrs. Lindstrom had been talking to Eric, trying to make him feel better about what had happened. She wanted Eric to realize that Mr. Lindstrom bore him no ill, it was just that Eric acted so much like their elder son. She asked Eric not to judge Mr. Lindstrom harshly, for he was a good and just man. She finished up by saying that Eric would not be going to school today, but spend it in bed, giving his bottom a chance to heal.

Eric looked at Mrs. Lindstrom, pleadingly, fiercely, begging her to let him go to school today! He -- must -- be allowed to go, for there was an important class he just -- had-- to attend, no matter what! If he didn't go, his Computer Science project would be ruined; he just -- had -- to go -- please --!

Mrs. Lindstrom was uncertain, but she had recognized that Eric was determined to go to school. Nothing was going to stop this young man, she thought. Reluctantly, she nodded her approval, then moved to assist him in getting into his clothes. Eric, blushing furiously, said that was all right, Tommy could help him if he needed it. Mrs. Lindstrom understood, completely, then left the room, instructing Tommy to make sure he helped Eric.

Tommy was already dressed for school. He got Eric out of his underpants, then was going to give him another pair of his when Eric told him no. He wanted a pair from his suitcase. Tommy got a pair out for Eric, then helped him to stand up to get into them. Eric apologized to Tommy for putting him through this. Tommy, helping him get the shorts on, told him to cut that nonsense out, right now. Tommy said that he was going to help him, and help him he would.

Eric nodded, thanking him, and asked him for another clean pair of 501s from the closet where he'd hung them. Gingerly, he got into the jeans, hissing at the way his briefs rubbed his raw bottom. Tommy then helped him into a pair of socks, then put Eric's high-top sneakers on him, tying then in place. Eric then walked stiffly over to the closet, got out a yellow Oxford button-down collar shirt, got into his T-shirt, then put on the Oxford shirt. He then, gingerly, tucked the shirt into his jeans, hissing when his hands touched his bottom.

Finished, he buttoned the last two buttons of his fly, then was about to take the belt off his jeans. Just looking at even his own belt made him feel sick. Then, his determination replaced the fear he had been feeling. He took another look at it, then he grimly fastened it around his slender waist, then settled his jeans into place. They had finished with ten minutes to spare before the bus arrived.

Going downstairs was pure torture for Eric, but he managed bravely. He got his backpack, made sure that all his homework was in there, then reached for his flight jacket that his uncle in the Air Force had given him. Mrs. Lindstrom handed them lunches, and told them both she hoped they had a good day in school. They were about to leave when Mr. Lindstrom came back into the kitchen through the back door.

Eric walked over to him, slowly, stiffly, then reminded him that he needed to stop by his own home after school. Mr. Lindstrom looked at Eric, crossly, but said that it was all right. He would pick him up from there at 6:00, and he'd better be ready. Eric then asked, politely, if Tommy could come with him, too. They could get their homework done at the same time; be that much more ready for chores. Mrs. Lindstrom spoke up, loudly, saying she thought it's a good idea. Mr. Lindstrom shot her a look, then grudgingly gave his permission.

While they waited outside for the school bus, Tommy asked why Eric wanted him over at his house. Eric, a slight grin on his face, told him that if what he thought was correct, he was sure that Tommy would understand. Tommy could get nothing further out of his friend, no matter how hard he pleaded. Finally the school bus came and they got on, Eric wincing in pain as he climbed the steps.

Mr. Diedrickson was no stranger to what a boy looked like when he'd been spanked, but to him, Eric looked as if he'd gotten a really severe one. He usually had no mercy on a boy coming aboard his bus looking as Eric did, but he was somehow moved to mercy in Eric's case. Something in the way he looked reminded him of Marty Lindstrom, a boy that he'd always let stand in the back of the bus instead of making him sit down in one of the seats.

Nodding to Eric, welcoming him aboard his bus, for he'd not seen him before, told him that he might be a bit more comfortable standing at the back of the bus. Eric thanked him, gratitude showing from his eyes, and limped to the back of the bus, Tommy right behind him. As Mr. Diedrickson closed the door and started the bus on its way, he thought to himself that that was exactly the way Marty had looked at him when he'd done the same for him.

School was pure hell for Eric that day. He asked his instructors if it would be all right if he stood in the back of the class instead of taking his usual place. Most of the instructors were kind about it, and let him stand. Only two refused his request, stating that he must take his seat. He tried not to hiss as his rear touched the wooden seat, but he was not always successful. He got through those two classes on sheer bravery and will power, and was grateful when they were finished.

When it came time for lunch, Eric and Tommy went out into the Quad to eat their lunch. A few of their other friends joined them, and they ate while talking about all sorts of things. There were only a few boys who came by, just to smirk at Eric, for he was eating his lunch lying on his stomach. The other boys, Eric included, glared at the boys, who got the hint and left -- quickly. When lunch was over, all the boys came over to Eric, and hoped that he'd get better soon. They'd all been there; knew what Eric was going through right then. He told them thanks, and limped back into the school with Tommy at his side.

There were two other classes he dreaded that day: Computer Science and Gym. Comp Sci, because there was no way of getting around sitting on a chair. Gym, because he knew Mr. Thorson, a retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant, would have no patience with a boy who was suffering from a spanking.

When it came time for computer Science, Eric reluctantly and grimly made his way there. Only his determination to start his plan made him go through with it. Arriving there early, he asked Mr. Northstrom if he could take the computer station in the last row instead of the one he usually took in the front. Mr. Northstrom looked at Eric, concernedly, then seeing the pleading look in Eric's eyes, said yes, that it would be all right.

Even though Mr. Northstrom had had Eric in his class for only a short while, he was impressed with the boy and they way he worked with computers. He had also been impressed with the telecom programme Eric had shown him. It was a thing of beauty, combining several features of other programmes into one, all with "point-and-click" ease of operation. It would work well in either a "Windows" or "OS/2" operating system. He had high hopes for the boy, knowing that if it worked, he'd have something really good to sell.

Trying to cover his limping, he finally made it to the back of the class. He sat down, slowly, then powered up the computer. The screen came to life, went through the autoexec, the he accessed his personal account in the school's E-Mail system. Once there, he wrote an E-Mail to his father's former company, asking that it be delivered to his father. He knew that the E-Mail was constantly monitored there, and that the E-Mail would get to his father quickly.

In the E-Mail, he gave his father a brief and concise report on what had happened the past day and a half. Having an eidetic memory, it was no problem relating, word-for-word, exactly the events as they had come to pass. Finished, he sent it on its way, feeling relieved when he saw that it had been delivered to its destination. The good feeling still with him, he then entered into the "InterNet" account the school had. Once there, he was quickly invited into a private channel to speak with several other programmers who were helping him with his new programme.

He had been there for about 30 minutes when he received a request for a private chat. Recognizing his father's "nick", he apologized to the Scientists, letting them know that he had to speak with his father for a bit. They wrote back that they understood, wished him luck! Eric left that channel, opened a private one, sealed it, then invited his father into the channel. His father was there instantly, asking what was going on and if he was all right.

Baron1>Eric! Son, are you okay? How are you feeling?

RedBoy>I'm okay, papa. I only hurt just a little bit, now, but I should be okay in a day or so. (Oh!, thought Eric, was -- that -- one great big lie!)

Baron1>Son, if I didn't know you for telling the absolute truth, I'd be hard-pressed to believe what you wrote me. I have to ask you, son, once more: is this all the truth?

RedBoy>Papa, if I'm not telling you the truth, then when you get home, the first thing I'll do is hand you the whipping belt and take my own pants down to let you spank me. It's the truth, papa.

[PAUSE]

Baron1>All right, son, I believe you. Besides, I know you; raised you to believe what you told Mr. Lindstrom. I know you told him as politely as you could, and I understand the control you must have shown not to yell or anything like that. I'm proud of you for >>>

Baron1>that son, you did well. But, the fact remains that I can't leave you there any longer. I'll tell them here that we'll just have to complete our business at a later date. I'm sure that your mother will be able to do the same with her company. If all goes well >>>

Baron1>we should be home tomorrow night. Can you last one more night there, or find someone who can take you overnight?

RedBoy>First of all, papa, I don't want you to get things messed up on my account. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened because of this incident. Secondly, I think that I can last the week, okay? I've had my say; for the rest of >>>

Baron1>Son! No way am I going to let you stay there!

RedBoy>the week I can hang tough. Papa, -- please -- , listen to me!

[PAUSE]

Baron1>All right, son, you have the floor. Go ahead.

RedBoy><-- whew! -- >Thanks, papa. Now, here is what I'm going to do.

Swiftly, with no further interruptions, Eric laid out his plan. He knew what his mother and father were doing was vitally important to them; to them all. He couldn't let them leave Chicago with their work unfinished -- and he wouldn't. Finally, he typed his last message to his father and waited for his answer.

Baron1><-- sigh-- >Son, what you are planning is dangerous. It is also incredibly brave of you to attempt it. I don't like it. You've shown me that you can make a man's decisions. I'll let you go through with this plan of yours under two conditions.

RedBoy>Yes, papa?

Baron1>First of all, I want you to go speak with Mr. Erickson. Tell him all you told me. I'll be sending a FAX to the school, and will talk with him myself on the phone. I want you to do everything he asks you to do, all right, son?

RedBoy>All right, papa. What else do you want me to do?

Baron1>After I get done speaking with Mr. Erickson, I'll be calling Bergman's in town. There will be a bag there, waiting for you. In this bag will be two packs of white "Fruit of the Loom" briefs. What size are you wearing now, son, 30 or 32?

RedBoy><-- chuckle!-- >Still wearing 30's papa! But, why should I do that? Isn't that like giving in to Mr. Lindstrom?

Baron1><-- stern look in your direction!-- >Never mind! On this point we can bend. I know you don't want to seem to be caving in to his way of thinking, but, son, I -- must -- insist on this point! Or else when I get you back home, young man...............!

RedBoy.>::: shudder!!!:::<-- nodding -- >All right, papa. I don't like it, but, as you have said, on this one point we can bend. I'll do it papa.

Baron1>Very well, son. He may think he's winning, but we know the real story. As for the rest, I know it makes you sick to your stomach, but, try to live with it, okay?

RedBoy><-- sigh!-- >All right, papa. I'll just pretend that I'm in gym, or in a public restroom. I still feel angry about this stuff happening to Tommy all the time, papa. -- REAL -- angry, papa!

Baron1>I know, son. Your feelings are to your credit, but, try to hold them in, all right? I believe in you, son, and I love you very, -- VERY -- much. BTW -- can you forgive me for putting you into this situation? You have to believe that I really didn't know!

RedBoy>Papa! For whom are you making the propaganda, hummmm?I -- DO --

believe you, papa, and don't feel badly to you or mother about what went on at the Lindstrom's! You couldn't really know; there was no time! So, don't worry about it, okay? OH! BTW -- it might be best >>>

RedBoy>not to tell mother about this, right now. She'd pitch a fit! You know how she can be, especially where it comes to your or my safety! Right?

Baron1><-- nodding grimly -- >I do know, son. There'll be hell to pay, later, from her, for not telling her about all this. But, I have to agree with you, son. I'll not say a word to her.

RedBoy>Thanks, papa! Say, I have to go now; class is almost done. TTYL, okay, papa? Love you and mother bunches!Zen hugs and kisses to both of you!

Baron1>Right back at'cha, big boy!Son, please, -- PLEASE -- , be careful, all right? If you need me, call me at this number, anytime, day or night: 1-(618)-555-2479. If I'm not immediately available, a message will be gotten to me right away. All right?

RedBoy>Okay, papa!Will do! Gotta run now, okay?

Baron1>I don't think you're moving too spryly, right now, with what you told me of the condition of your backside. Son, one last thing, then I have to go, too. When I get home, I -- WILL -- make sure that this never happens again, either to Tommy or you! I promise!

RedBoy>Not to worry, papa. If my plan works, nothing will -- ever -- happen to Tommy again! The bell is about to ring, papa, I have to sign off! I love you! Love to mother, too! TTYL! Bye!

Baron1>All right, son! Love right back to you! TTYL, okay? Bye!

[Baron1 has quit IRC.]

With a lighter heart, he exited from the "InterNet" connection, then exited from the programme. Getting back to the "c>" prompt, he entered PARK, then shut the computer down. The bell rang then, startling him for a moment, causing him to chuckle. He got up, slowly, then felt something wrong in his rear.

Putting his hand to the seat of his jeans, he felt that the denim was damp. He realized that some of the welts must have started to weep fluid again, and was glad he was wearing these particular jeans. They were virtually brand new, only having been washed twice, and were still really dark. He'd stop in the boy's room on the way to Mr. Erickson's office for a quick peek, just to make sure nothing was showing on the seat of his jeans.

He was limping up to Mr. Northstrom's desk to turn in his assignment when he noticed Mr. Northstrom looking at him intently. Paling, he bravely went up and put the print-out on his desk, then turned to leave when Mr. Northstrom told him to stop. Turning back to him, Mr. Northstrom indicated that he should come around to his side of the desk. Eric did so, trying to walk normally. He then stood before Mr. Northstrom, waiting for what was to come.

Mr. Northstrom looked at him, sadly, then told him that his conversation with his father had been monitored by his central station. Eric paled to white, and almost collapsed. Mr. Northstrom grabbed him before he fell, then leaned him against the desk, holding him in place. Mr. Northstrom then explained that it was not intentional. His system, as all school computers in that area, were set for keywords, such as "spank", "hit", "injury", "welts", etc. He hadn't seen the entire conversation, for he could only monitor the local, not the remote, station.

Colour started to return to Eric's face as he listened to Mr. Northstrom. He was relieved at that, but was concerned that his instructor would have to notify the authorities over this. Eric then pleaded with Mr. Northstrom not to report this; that he didn't want to see Mr. Lindstrom go to jail over this. He was a sick man; yes, he could see that, but prison would not cure his problem! Think what it would do to his family, too!

Mr. Northstrom nodded. He had seen what Eric had written in reply to what his father had written. He had already surmised that Eric's father had agreed to his son's plan. Mr. Northstrom told Eric that he did have to file a report to the Dean over this. He agreed, though, to hold the report in abeyance for twenty-four hours. That was also contingent on whether Mr. Erickson agreed with Eric's father. Eric promised that he would faithfully report to Mr. Northstrom what Mr. Erickson decided to do. Mr. Northstrom agreed, then told him to get to Mr. Erickson's office. Thanking him, he left for Mr. Erickson's office.

Remembering that his father would be calling Mr. Erickson, he decided not to stop in the boy's room, but go directly to his office. Arriving there, the secretary looked up at Eric. Recognizing Eric, she told him to wait a moment. Calling over the intercom, she advised Mr. Erickson that Eric was there. Eric heard him tell her to send him right in. Thanking her, he went to the door, opened it, then stepped inside the office.

Mr. Erickson sat there, a grim look on his face as Eric limped up to his desk. With Eric in front of his desk, Mr. Erickson told him that he wouldn't ask Eric to have a seat. Eric gave him a shy smile over that, and thanked him for understanding. Then, Mr. Erickson got down to business.

He told Eric that he had spoken with his father. While he didn't agree with Eric's father on several points, he told Eric that he had agreed with him, finally, to let Eric try his plan. Relief washing over him, Eric said, softly, my thanks to you for helping. Mr. Erickson waved at that, then his face took on an even grimmer look. One other thing, Eric, he said. I have been asked by your father to take some Polaroid's of your bottom. I want you to go ahead and take down your jeans and underpants, all right? I know that this embarrasses you, but, your father feels it's necessary, as do I. Go ahead, get those pants down, okay?

Eric was blushing furiously now. Reluctantly, he undid his belt and slowly pulled open the fly of his 501s. He pushed them down, just past his crotch, then put his thumbs in the waistband of his underpants. Mr. Erickson had gotten out a Polaroid camera, then walked over to stand behind Eric. Eric then bent over, slowly, painfully, and pulled down the seat of his underpants.

Mr. Erickson gently lifted Eric's shirt-tail, then gasped at the sight of Eric's buttocks. He quickly took the Polaroid's, then told Eric to stand up. He did not let him pull his pants up; told him just to stand as he was. Eric, curious, looked down into the now exposed inside seat of his Levi's. They were damp in several spots Eric saw, then he groaned at the fact that it had probably soaked through to the outside seat, too.

Mr. Erickson returned to Eric, holding in his right hand a large medical kit. Smiling, Mr. Erickson told Eric that during what some might call a very checkered carrer, had served as a Medical Specialist in the Army. He had also maintained his certification as a Paramedic. He felt it was a good way to give service back to his community.

Gently bending Eric back over his desk, which he cleared with a single swipe of his arm, he lifted the tail of Eric's shirt and started to treat Eric's wounds. He told Eric that there were only three places that were really bad off, but what he was doing should prevent them from weeping any more fluid.

Eric tried, bravely, not to flinch from Mr. Erickson's hand. Mr. Erickson told him not to feel worried or ashamed, he'd have done the same thing in his place. Mr. Erickson then put his other hand firmly in the small of Eric's back to steady him. Whatever he was putting on Eric's bottom seemed to work miracles. Eric felt most of the pain disappear, as if by magic. He breathed a gusty sigh of relief, causing Mr. Erickson to chuckle. His ministrations complete, he gently lifted Eric up to a standing position and told him he could get dressed.

Getting his underpants back up was no problem, for Eric had held them in place. His jeans, though, had fallen around his ankles. When he bent over to get them, he almost cried out in pain. Mr. Erickson hurried over to his side, saw what had happened, then told Eric to stand up straight. He reached down and got the jeans, then pulled them up to Eric's waist. He then tucked his T-shirt in for him, then his shirt. Eric thanked him for his help, but told him he could manage the rest. Nodding to him, Mr. Erickson went on with putting his medical kit away, then went back to his desk to look at the photos. He stood there, a very grim look on his face, studying the photos, then muttering to himself.

Completely dressed, Eric could understand what Mr. Erickson was feeling. They then went on to discuss what Eric had planned. Mr. Erickson also was told what Mr. Northstrom had said to Eric. Nodding, Mr. Erickson agreed to the twenty-four hour period. But, if anything untoward happened to Eric, he was instructed, most firmly, to get the heck out of there and to the nearest pay phone. He was to call Mr. Erickson, no matter what the hour, then stay there and wait for him to come get him. Eric said that he would do as he had been instructed, but hoped it would not be necessary.

Just then, the end-of-period bell sounded. Eric groaned, for his next class was gym. Mr. Erickson chuckled, then told Eric not to worry. He wrote out a note, then passed it to Eric. He was told he could read it. The note was an excusal from gym class for the rest of the week. It also said that Eric was working on a special computer project for Mr. Erickson, which would take precedence over gym. If Mr. Thorson had a problem with that, then the note said for him to call Mr. Erickson.

Eric grinned at Mr. Erickson, but said that he wasn't aware that he was supposed to be working on any special computer project for him. Mr. Erickson waved that away with a flick of his hand. He told Eric that he had no problems with telling a fib in a good cause. Besides, Eric would need the time to prepare the rest of his plan. Consider that your "special project", then, Eric. He was then dismissed.

Arriving at the gym, he handed the note to Mr. Thorson. He read it, then said that it was all right for Eric to go. He, too, had recognized the tell-tale signs of a badly whipped boy, but did not feel as he usually did when he saw such a boy. Watching Eric leaving, trying bravely not to limp, he was reminded of one of his best athletes -- Marty Lindstrom. Marty had still tried to suit up for class as if nothing happened, and Mr. Thorson, who knew John Lindstrom and did not like him, always let Marty go from class. Marty Lindstrom had been one brave kid, thought Mr. Thorson, always a straight-shooter, and a great boy on his teams and to his teammates. Shaking his head, Mr. Thorson went back to teaching his class.

Eric went to Mr. Northstrom's class and presented the note Mr. Erickson had given him. He also reported his interview as he had promised. Mr. Northstrom told Eric that he had already spoken with Mr. Erickson. He then assigned Eric to the same terminal in the back of the room he had used earlier. Thanking Mr. Northstrom warmly, he limped back to the station.

Sitting down was not too much of a problem, now, especially when he saw that a pillow was on the chair. Grinning broadly, he looked over at Mr. Northstrom. Mr. Northstrom chuckled, then waved to him to get on with his work. Taking his seat and looking openly back at one of the boys who was smirking at him, he powered up the computer and fell to his work.

He finished with what he'd been working on, then powered off the computer with a satisfied look on his face. He had been able to get into the databases he needed, got the information, then used it to complete the next-to-last portion of his plan. The rest of it would take place at his house, one hour from now. He'd already received confirmation that the party he needed to talk with would be on-line at the appointed time. Grinning, self-satisfied, he limped out of the class and went to pick up Tommy.

On the way to Eric's house, the boys stopped in at Bergman's. Tommy asked why they were stopping there; Eric told him he'd tell him once they were at his house. The promised bag was there with his name on it. The clerk asked Eric for some identification. Eric took out his wallet from his back pocket, opened it, and took out his student picture ID. She looked at it, smiled, and handed Eric the bag. She then told the boys to have a nice day, then went on to help another customer.

The bag was larger than Eric thought it should be, so he looked into it. Not only were the two packs of white briefs there, but also a new pair of Levi's 501s. Curious, he saw there was also what looked like a FAX note in the bag.

Taking it out, he read it, then chuckled. His papa had figured that his jeans might be messy, and told him to put those on when he got home, along with changing his underpants. Tommy looked on, curiously, then took the note when Eric handed it to him to read. After Tommy had finished reading it, he handed it back, then told Eric that he had one great papa! Putting the note back in the bag, the boys left the store and hurried on to Eric's house.

Eric's heart swelled with joy as he saw his house. He opened the door almost reverently, then got up to his room. Everything was just as he'd left it: neat, tidy, and ready to go! He first went over to his computer station and powered everything up. He then asked Eric to go downstairs and get them a snack and bring it back up to his room. Tommy said he could do that, and turned to leave the room. He was soon back, loaded down with a tray that held

two plates with sandwiches, chips, and pickles on them. He also had brought two large glasses of milk and some cookies to go with them.

As Tommy set the tray down on the worktable, Eric was not to be seen. He called out for Eric, and heard him from behind the door to his right. Tommy went over to it, knocked on the door, then went in when he heard Eric telling him to come in.

Tommy was amazed! Eric had his very own bathroom, right off of his room! A full bath, too! Shaking his head with envy, he saw Eric standing there wearing only his T-shirt and red-stained briefs. He saw that Eric's shirt was slightly bloody in the tail. He saw that the inside seat of Eric's Levi's was stained, too. Turning around to face Tommy, Eric shyly told him that he'd be needing his help for a few minutes with dressing his wounds. He apologized for having to ask such a thing of him, but hoped he'd understand.

Tommy hit his forehead in exasperation, telling him that he didn't have to feel badly about asking for his help. He also told Eric that his brother had done much the same for him when he'd had a severe spanking. His brother had told him everything he was doing, each step of the way. He knew exactly how to help Eric, so, no sweat! He came forward and looked into the medicine cabinet, but was stopped when Eric handed him what he was looking for. Smiling, he took it from Eric and got the rest of what he needed close to hand.

He hesitated over the next step. It was not going to be nice for Eric, but, it was the best way to handle it. Resolved, he told Eric to take a shower, first warm, then finishing with cold on his bottom. He'd wait outside for Eric to finish, but, if he needed help getting washed, he'd do that for him too. Eric paled a bit at the thought of a shower, but, said he'd do it. He also asked Tommy to help him getting washed. Nodding, Tommy helped his friend out of his

underpants and his T-shirt, then started the shower going.

Tommy only had to help Eric with his legs and feet, but did it thoroughly. Then with a grim look on his face, Eric turned to face the wall, leaned up against it, and told Tommy to turn the cold water on his bottom. Tommy worked the control, and aimed the shower stream at Eric's still raw bottom. Eric gasped as the ice cold water hit his bum, but stayed where he was; a death-grip on the towel bar in front of him. For five minutes he stayed there, his eyes shut in pain, then he sighed with relief as Tommy turned off the water. He helped Eric out of the bathtub, then took the large bath towel and dried him off gently.

Once Eric was dry, Tommy took up the tube of salve and sat on the toilet. He looked at Eric, then told him that the easiest and best way to do this was across his knees. Seeing the look on his friend's face, Tommy told him he knew how this would make him feel, but he wasn't going to spank his friend, just put on the salve. Eric told him that it was okay; he understood why it had to be done this way. Holding the towel in front of him, he went over to Tommy and lowered himself into position over Tommy's knees. Tommy had to help him down, then started to gently rub in the healing salve.

Eric sighed as Tommy rubbed in the salve. It was cold, at first, but then made his bottom feel warm. When Tommy told him he was finished, he helped Eric to get on his feet. He then helped Eric into the new clothes and got another shirt for him to wear from his closet. The boys then cleaned up the bathroom, leaving Eric's jeans in cold water in the bathtub, and his underpants, T-shirt and shirt in the sink, also filled with cold water.

Clothed and feeling better than he'd felt for the last eight hours, Eric went over to the computer station and signed-on to his service. He told Tommy to get the chair from his bedside and sit beside him. Tommy did so, and was soon in place at Eric's right hand.

Once signed into a server, Eric quickly set up a private channel and sealed it. Then he did a "whois", looking for someone with a handle of "Mavrick1". Looking at his watch, he saw that it was the appointed time.

The "whois" turned up the individual Eric was looking for. Sending a private message to the individual, he sent what looked to Tommy like a code phrase so that Eric was sure he had the right person. Eric received the proper counter from the individual and invited him into the channel, giving him "Ops" once he was in.

RedBoy>Hi, Mavrick! Great to finally meet you!

Mavrick1>Well, "Hi there!", right back to you, RedBoy! I'm not going to ask how you got hold of me, for I think I don't want to know!What's on your mind, RedBoy?

RedBoy>I have someone here that I think you need to talk to first, Mavrick1. BTW -- my real name is Eric; Eric Williamson. Don't tell me yours until the other person is on with you. Okay?

Mavrick1>No probs, Eric. Put on the individual!

Eric got up, stiffly, and told Tommy to sit down at the keyboard. Tommy, now totally confused, but excited about talking "over the Net", began to sit down when Eric told him to hold on a sec; he had to add something.

RedBoy>BTW, Mavrick1, be patient with this individual, okay? He's not that accomplished a typist, and might make a few mistakes, okay?

Mavrick1>If it's who I think it is, Eric, I'm not going to worry about a few misspelled words, okay? Put him on!

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Eric pushed Tommy into the chair. Tommy, who could type, but not very fast, sat down and began to type.

RedBoy>Hi, Mavrick1! My name is Tommy Lindstrom, a good friend of Eric's. It seems he feels that we might have something to talk about together. Well, I'm here, willing and grateful for the chat!

Mavrick1>Is this the same Tommy Lindstrom who has a mole on his lower left buttock and has a nasty penchant for talking in his sleep? Not to mention that he wet the bed sometimes???<-- chuckle!-- >

Tommy's hands flew off the keyboard as if he'd been electrocuted. His eyes were wide, staring, his mouth open in obvious surprise. He then shot a look at Eric, then asked him if it really was his brother he was talking with? Eric laughed, then said, well, go ahead and ask him, Tommy! He's waiting!

Mavrick1>Hey! Wake up over there! Do you think I have all day to just sit around, flapping my fingers?

RedBoy>Marty??? Is this -- REALLY-- my big brother Marty???

Mavrick1>It sure is, little brother! _d_a_m_n_! I -- NEVER -- thought I'd be talking to you like this!How the heck are you, boy? What's going on with you?

Eric, still chuckling, clapped Tommy on the shoulder, then left the two brothers to talk in private. He went to the bathroom, checked on his clothes, then took another chair at the worktable and finished off his food. He looked over at Tommy, who was having to constantly wipe the tears from his eyes. Seeing this, Eric got up, went over to his bureau, got out a handkerchief, then handed it to Tommy. Tommy took it gratefully, then went back to his conversation with his brother.

He was gathering all the plates back onto the tray when he happened to glance at his watch. It read 17:45, (5:45 PM. Ed.). He told Tommy the time, and told him they'd have to get off the line soon. Tommy nodded, then told Eric his brother wanted to talk with him again. Eric got back in the chair, then asked Tommy to clean up the dishes they'd used. Tommy took the tray and went downstairs to the kitchen, asking Eric to be sure and tell his brother, once again that he loved him. Eric nodded, then told Tommy to hurry; his dad would be here soon.

RedBoy>Okay, Marty; may I call you that? Or would LT be more appropriate? BTW -- we're alone now. Tommy is in the kitchen, cleaning up some things we used for snacking.

Mavrick1>Eric, you can call me Marty, or big brother, if you want to.I have to tell you, though, I'm sorry you got into this mess. I hope that your backside heals soon. Believe me, I -- KNOW -- what you went through! :(

RedBoy><-- shrug -- >It's okay, Marty; not your doing. I just couldn't stand it any longer, listening to your dad running down my folks. I just hadda say something, or I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror.

Mavrick1><-- sigh! -- >I know how that is, too, Eric. Well, never mind, we can talk that over when I get there. Is Tommy back in the room with you yet?

RedBoy>Yes; he just came back. Oh, BTW -- it's almost time for you dad to be here. We have to make this short, okay?

Mavrick1><-- nodding-- >This won't take much longer. ENTERPRISE won't be in when I told Tommy. I've been to the Captain and asked for leave. It's been granted, and a pilot will be ferrying me into Great Lakes. I'll rent a plane and come right into the airport. >>>

Mavrick1>I'll rent a car from there. I should be pulling in around 16:00, your local, tomorrow. Got it, Eric, Tommy?

RedBoy><-- chuckle! -- >I think, Marty, that Tommy's going to need to borrow some fresh pants from me; I think he just had an accident! ...................

Hey!, yelled Eric. That hurt, Tommy! I was only kidding! Geeeeeeze!

Mavrick1>LOL!!! I kinda thought that might happen, Tommy!BTW -- don't hit Eric again! He was just joking around, okay?

How'd he know?, gasped Tommy. He's your big brother, Tommy, said Eric, laughing.

RedBoy>It's all right, Marty. Tommy is sorry that he hit me.So, that's 4:00 PM, tomorrow, that you should be arriving in town?

Mavrick1>That's a roger, Eric. Then, when I get there, we'll sort all this out -- once and for all. You boys hang in there, okay? You, especially, Eric. Try to hold in from now on until I get there, okay? Can you do that for me; you, too, Tommy?

All of a sudden, the door bell rang, followed soon by a loud knocking, then Mr. Lindstrom shouting for them to open the door! Eric grimaced, then turned back to the keyboard.

RedBoy>Marty, we're out of here! Your dad is here, and he doesn't sound too happy. Gotta go! TTYL! Happy landings!

Go let him in, Tommy, for God's sake, before he thinks we're doing something we're not supposed to be doing! Go, now! Tommy shot off the chair and went downstairs.

Mavrick1>Roger that, Eric. Understood. Mavrick1, out!

[Mavrick1 has quit IRC]

Eric quickly exited the comm programme, then called up the project on which he was working. He had just gotten it opened when Mr. Lindstrom came into Eric's bedroom. He looked around at Eric's room, taking it all in, a sour look on his face. He frowned as he took in the elaborate computer gear, and then asked Eric why he had to stand outside waiting?

Apologizing, Eric stood up, slowly, saying that he had been involved with the programme and couldn't move that quickly. He had told Tommy to open the door as quickly as he could. He again apologized, saying that he'd meant no disrespect to him. Eric then turned back to the computer and sat on his chair.

Mr. Lindstrom was only partly mollified. He asked Eric, gruffly, if he was almost finished with whatever nonsense he was working on? There were chores to do before supper; he had no time to be wasting over him.

Eric held himself in check, turned and smiled at Mr. Lindstrom, and said that he was finished with what he could do for now. He began the shut-down procedures for his particular set-up, then, with everything shut-down, got out of the chair, still moving slowly.

Tapping his foot, impatiently, Mr. Lindstrom asked Eric if he couldn't move any faster, or would he like him to help him move faster? At this, Eric blanched, but forced himself to move faster. He got his bag from Bergman's, then moved to go downstairs to get his backpack and flight jacket. He was stopped at the door by Mr. Lindstrom.

Who gave you permission to go shopping, young man?, he asked darkly.

Eric looked down at the bag, grateful that he'd remembered to take out the note from his father. He then told Mr. Lindstrom that he had forgotten to tell him that his father had thought he might need some more things, so he'd set it up for Eric to pick up some things at Bergman's.

Mr. Lindstrom took the bag and looked into it. Seeing the one opened and one un-opened pack of briefs, he nodded. He also noted the tags from the Levi's. Looking at Eric's jeans, he saw they were brand new. He then told Eric to take his jeans down; he wanted to make sure that he was dressed properly.

Without a word, Eric did as he was told. He undid his jeans, pushed them down to his knees, then held up his shirt so that Mr. Lindstrom could see, without a doubt, Eric was wearing a proper pair of white cotton briefs. Mr. Lindstrom took Eric by the arm, turned him so he could see the seat of his underpants. Mr. Lindstrom saw there were some damp spots on the seat, corresponding with some of the welts on his bottom. Gruffly, he told Eric to get his britches back up; time was wasting. He then went out of Eric's bedroom, saying they'd better get a move on.

The ride back to Tommy's house was uneventful, save for Mr. Lindstrom's occasional grumbling about the time they'd wasted for him. Arriving, he told the boys that the hired hands had done most of the work for them, but there were still a few things to be done. He told them to get inside, get their school stuff put away, then get back out to the barn. He told them that there was no need for them to change into anything else; what they had on would be all right.

To save time, Tommy grabbed Eric's things and told him to go ahead out to the barn. Nodding to him gratefully, he gave over his backpack, then turned to go to the barn.

When he entered the barn, Mr. Lindstrom looked at him, then looked for Tommy. He then asked Eric where Tommy was. Eric told him that he'd agreed to take care of his school stuff, then told Eric to go out to the barn; he'd be there shortly. Eric told Mr. Lindstrom Tommy had only been interested in saving time, wanting to make up for the time they'd already cost him.

Mr. Lindstrom nodded, then handed Eric a broom, telling him that the floor had to be swept entirely clean. He wanted it spotless, nothing in the corners, either, or it'd mean another whipping for Eric. He'd be back in a while to check on how he was doing. He then told Eric to get moving; supper would be on the table in a half-hour, then left the barn.

Eric looked at the vast expanse of floor he had to clean and almost sobbed. There's no way I can get this mess cleaned up to his satisfaction, he thought to himself. But, remembering what he'd promised, he fell to with a will.

He was three quarters of the way finished when Mr. Lindstrom returned with Tommy. He looked at the floor, sourly, since it was spotless in every place except for what Eric still had left to do. He came over to Eric, who stood there, trying not to shiver with fright. Mr. Lindstrom then told Eric that he'd done enough; it was time for supper. He could finish the work in the morning before school. He then told both boys to get in the house and get washed up for supper. To help them along, he swatted them both on the seat of their pants.

Tried though might, Eric was unable to stifle the gasp and moan as he was swatted on his still very sore rear. He moved along, though, quickly as he could, feeling the seat of his pants starting to get damp again. He did not miss, though, the sound of Mr. Lindstrom's chuckle of satisfaction at finally getting a reaction from Eric. Eric once again resolved that he would never again make a single sound when he was hit by Mr. Lindstrom.

While they were washing up, Eric had Tommy check his bottom for him. Tommy said that only one of the welts had broken open, but it had already stopped bleeding. There was only a little stain of red on the seat; his jeans were okay. The boys came into the kitchen to help set things up for supper. Eric smiled at Mrs. Lindstrom when he got to his chair, seeing a pillow on it. He didn't sit until Mr. Lindstrom came in; nobody sat until he was in his chair at the head of the table.

When he came in, he saw the pillow on Eric's chair. He told Mrs. Lindstrom to get that thing off the chair; there'd be no "molly-coddling" of boys in this house. Mrs. Lindstrom returned that the pillow would stay there; that Eric would sit on it and eat. You may be boss over the rest of this farm, John Lindstrom, and more's the power to you, but in this kitchen I am the boss! Now, Eric, sit down and eat. You too, Tommy.

Mr. Lindstrom was not a happy man. He knew his wife; knew and loved her with all of his life. She could and would stand up to him, when it was necessary. Knowing this, he could only resort to glowering at Eric during the entire meal. Eric concentrated on eating, answering only when he was spoken to. He only said enough to answer the question put to him, nothing further.

With the meal finished, he immediately started clearing the table and helping with the dishes. He even started to sweep the floor, but stopped when Mrs. Erickson took the broom out of his hands. She told him that he had done enough; why didn't he play some checkers with Tommy until it was time to get ready for bed?

Tommy grinned and got out the checkerboard and checkers, setting up the board on the kitchen table. Mr. Lindstrom just stomped out of the kitchen, going into the living room to read his paper. They played several games, Eric keeping a constant eye on his wristwatch. When it read 20:15, (8:15 PM. Ed.), he told Tommy they had to stop and get ready for bed. Looking at his watch, Tommy nodded, soberly, then put the checkers away and helped Eric to straighten up the kitchen.

The boys passed through the living room, silently, on the way up to Tommy's room. Mrs. Lindstrom said they were good boys, getting ready before hand for bed. Mr. Lindstrom looked at them with a sour expression on his face.

Then he told the boys that he wanted them to take a shower and change their britches before they got into bed. He'd be checking on them to make sure they did, too. There was to be no horsing around, either, or there'd be a few sore bottoms going to bed this night. He then went back to reading his paper, pointedly ignoring the warning glance his wife shot him.

Now Tommy was worried. The only other times his dad had made sure his boys were to shower was when either one or the other was about to get whipped. He told Eric this, and to be ready for anything that his dad would tell them to do, even if it was to take a shower together instead of by themselves. Eric nodded, then asked Tommy what else they could do to prevent getting spanked.

Tommy told him that they had to leave their underpants on the bed, with a folded, clean pair next to their used ones. Everything else had to be put away or hung up in its proper place. They would then have to go down to the bathroom, naked, not trying to cover themselves. A thought came to him; he told Eric to go ahead and start getting undressed, he'd be back in a moment.

Eric had difficulty with getting off his shoes and socks. Finally, there being no help for it, he sat on the chair. A surge of pain shot out from his sore behind, but he ignored it, continuing to take off his shoes and socks. By the time he was ready to get out of his jeans, Tommy walked back into the room -- slowly.

He looked at Eric, then told him, sadly, his dad had said for them to shower together. What's the problem with that, Tommy?, Eric asked. We've had to do that in gym class; we could just pretend it's end of gym period, okay? Tommy then told Eric, as he got himself undressed, that he didn't understand what this meant. As Eric looked at his friend, Tommy explained that they would not only shower together, but would have to wash each other -- with Tommy's dad standing there, watching the whole thing. God help them both if either one of them got an erection when they were soaping each other down there. Tommy finished with getting his jeans off, standing there in only his underpants, telling Eric they'd both get whipped if that happened.

Now it was Eric's turn to get scared. He knew that boys their age sometimes had erections suddenly, especially at the slightest rubbing of the genitalia. Heck, it even happened to Eric a couple of times, just from the friction from his penis rubbing against his underpants while he was walking. He knew that happened to Tommy, too, having seen Tommy change the way he was walking sometimes. They both uttered silent prayers that it wouldn't happen tonight, and got out of their underpants just as Mr. Lindstrom came in the room.

The boys quickly placed their used underpants down on the bed next to their clean ones. Mr. Lindstrom nodded, then went on to check out the rest of Tommy's bedroom. Both boys had gotten everything in its place well before hand. He frowned at Eric's Levi's, which were hanging neatly over the chair back by the bed. Taking the hint, Eric quickly got them off the chair, went into the closet and hung them up next to his other pants. Closing the door, he

went back to stand by Tommy, his hands at his sides.

Mr. Lindstrom then told the boys to get into the bathroom and get into the bathtub. He wanted them done in fifteen minutes. Eric and Tommy went out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. Mr. Lindstrom followed them, his hand softly slapping his thigh all the time. He told the boys to go to the bathroom first. Tommy, who had to do both, went first, sitting on the toilet while Eric tried not to watch. When Tommy was through, Tommy wiped himself off, got off and flushed the toilet, then motioned for Eric to go ahead.

Eric only had to pee, but this was not enough for Mr. Lindstrom. He told Eric to sit down and do both, saying that a healthy boy his age should definitely need to dump his bowels by now. Eric smiled at Mr. Lindstrom and told him he'd done that when he was at his house that afternoon. All he had to do was pee; that was all.

Mr. Lindstrom just looked at him and told him to get his fanny on that toilet and do his business; there'd better be something in there, too! Eric sat down, ignoring the pain in his rear. He peed readily enough, but he just didn't have to do the other. Having Mr. Lindstrom waiting for Eric to perform like some trained animal didn't help either.

Finally, after much straining, he felt his bowels move, and let out a sigh of relief as he felt the stool pass through into the toilet. He wiped himself off, then got off the toilet to let Mr. Lindstrom see what he'd done. Mr. Lindstrom looked into the toilet, sniffed, then flushed it. Then he looked at the boys, standing there, and told them to get their butts into the bathtub! They had only ten minutes left!

Now, the real ordeal was upon Tommy and Eric. They turned the water on lukewarm, hoping to stave off any reactions while they washed each other's groin. Mr. Lindstrom stepped over and turned the water warmer, saying that boys couldn't get really clean if the water wasn't warm enough. He then sat on the toilet seat, watching the boys put soap on each other. By the Grace of God, neither boy got an erection when they washed each other's groin -- something that disappointed Mr. Lindstrom greatly.

When it came time for Tommy to wash Eric's bottom, he was very genle with the half-healed wounds. Mr. Lindstrom told Tommy to really scrub Eric's bottom; it needed it badly! When Tommy tried to protest, begging his dad not to make him do it; Eric's bottom was clean, Mr. Lindstrom shot off the stool. He reached in and grabbed Tommy, turned him around and bent him over, then gave him ten sharp smacks on his wet behind. He then turned Tommy around, told him to do as he said, or it would be the belt next time.

A sad look on his face, Tommy told Eric he was sorry, but he had to do it. Eric just nodded, turned to face the wall, then jutted out his rear in Tommy's direction.

Tommy grabbed the washcloth and started to really rub Eric's behind. The force of his rubbing, coupled with the water temperature, had softened the scabs on Eric's behind. They broke open, exposing the tender flesh to the sharp lye soap they had been made to use. Eric gritted his teeth at the pain exploding in his bottom, but made no sound. Finally, Tommy, tears in his eyes and voice, told his dad that he couldn't get it any cleaner 'cause of the blood that was coming out of the welts.

Mr. Lindstrom nodded, then told Tommy to get out of the bathtub and get himself dry. He told Eric to stay in the position he was in, then turned the water control to pure cold. Eric wanted to scream; scream his lungs out with pain. His whole body was wracked with shaking, trying to keep the animal screams from coming out of his mouth. After five minutes of this, Mr. Lindstrom turned off the water and ordered Eric to get out of the bathtub.

Eric got out, still shaking, from both the cold and the pain he was feeling again. Mr. Lindstrom looked in the medicine cabinet, rummaged a bit, then came out with a small bottle in his hand. Looking at it with satisfaction, he sat on the toilet seat, grabbed a towel and put it over his lap. He then reached out to Eric, grabbed him, then put the boy over is knees. He instructed Eric not to move, or it would hurt that much more. Then he opened the bottle, which had on it "Tincture of Iodine", got the top with its glass dauber out, then put it on Eric's open cuts.

With a violent lunge, Eric tried to get up from Mr. Lindstrom's lap at the first touch of the Iodine. Mr. Lindstrom grabbed him by the back of his neck, forcing him back into position, then locked his leg over Eric's. Then he slowly, methodically started swabbing Eric's behind with the Iodine, ignoring the boy's now frantic movements.

This was enough for Tommy. Maybe it was because of his talk with his brother that day; maybe it was just that he'd suffered enough at his dad's hands. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he shot out of the bathroom to go downstairs for his mother. His dad yelled for Tommy to get back in the bathroom; for once, Tommy didn't obey.

At the sound of Mrs. Lindstrom's shouted, he's doing -- WHAT -- ??!!!!!!, then the sound of her coming up the stairs at the run, Mr. Lindstrom turned Eric loose and stood him up.

He calmly put the top back on the bottle, put it back in the medicine cabinet, then ordered both boys to their bedroom. Mrs. Lindstrom went to Eric immediately, trying to check him over. When Mr. Lindstrom would have told her to leave the boy alone, she shot him a stern glance and said that this boy had had enough. She was taking over from now on; she would hear of nothing else!

Through all this, Eric said nothing, moved not a muscle, just stood there with a blank look on his face -- he was in deep shock. Mrs. Lindstrom lifted him up in her arms, carrying the boy back into the bedroom. She finished drying him off, then put him in the bed as he was, naked, laying him on his stomach. Then she laid the towel over his bottom as a temporary cover. She would come back to see to it, properly, after she had some words with her husband!

Eric still had not said a word. The only thing they saw was the tears slowly coming out of his eyes. Then they saw Eric put his right thumb into his mouth, just as if he was a little baby. He had locked himself deep inside his mind; a place where there was no pain, no spanking -- no iodine. It was warm, comfortable, soothing. He vowed that he'd never leave it, no matter what!

Mr. Lindstrom was unconcerned at Eric's condition. He just said that he was a boy; he's young, he'll be right as rain in the morning. He then turned and left the room, going back downstairs.

Mrs. Lindstrom could not believe it had been her husband who'd uttered those words. As far as she was concerned, this was far from over. She was about to leave the room when she noticed that Eric had started to shiver. She looked at Tommy, now in his clean underpants, then told him to get into bed with Eric.

Nodding, Tommy did as his mother told him. When he was in and as close to Eric as possible, Mrs. Lindstrom covered them and tucked the blankets around them. Then she told Tommy to take care of Eric; she'd be back in a while. Then, with a final caress to both boys, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Tommy looked down at Eric. He could see no sign of the Eric he knew, only this little boy with his thumb corked tightly in his mouth. Tommy was crushed with his feelings of sadness, anger, and compassion for Eric. Without consciously knowing he was doing it, he emulated the actions of his big brother. He moved closer to Eric and took him into his arms and started to stroke his hair, talking softly to him.

Eric did react, which surprised Tommy. His eyes widened, then he put his other hand squarely on Tommy's chest and tried to push him away. When he found out that he couldn't push Tommy away, he slumped. Then, he started to get closer to Tommy until they were touching, front-to-front. Eric then scooched down, putting his head underneath Tommy's chin and put his arm around Tommy's waist.

Tommy just lay there, not feeling anything except pain and sorrow for what had happened to his friend. Still stroking Eric's thatch of red hair, he continued to talk with Eric, letting him know that he was safe; that nothing else was going to happen to him. The full force of memories he'd long since buried was hitting Tommy, making him only want to hold Eric closer to him -- just as his brother did, before.

All of a sudden, Tommy looked down at his friend. He felt something on the front of his briefs, then he craned his head to look intently at his friend's face. Eric's eyes were still wide open; the pupils completely dilated, thumb still corked in his mouth. Then Tommy felt that stabbing again on the front of his briefs, and felt Eric start to move against him.

This was too much for Tommy to bear. He also remembered that he'd done as much with his brother one time. He didn't feel anger at Eric, only a surge of compassion. Eric was now working his fully erect penis against the front of Tommy's briefs furiously. Tommy just held him, saying that it was okay; he understood; Eric wasn't being bad.

The pressure on Tommy's crotch had forced an erection on him, too. He wanted to readjust himself, but with Eric gripping him so tightly, there was no chance of it. His penis was erect, pushing down on the crotch of his underpants, causing Tommy some pain. Tommy bore the pain, then, with a final thrust from Eric, he felt not only the front of his briefs go wet, but he also came into the crotch of the briefs.

Tommy heard the sigh of relief from Eric, but, when he looked at Eric, noted that his friend's eyes were the same way as when he started to rut up against him. Tommy was trying to figure out what to do when there was a knock on the door. His head sprang up, in fear, then he relaxed, for only his mother would knock.

When Tommy told her she could come in, he was trying to figure out how to explain his and Eric's wetness. She saw the tenseness in Tommy's body, then, with a knowing look, she nodded, then closed the door firmly behind her.

She came over to the bed, her hands filled with a pan of water and other items to treat Eric. His mother then looked at Tommy, asking him if Eric had had an accident. Tommy nodded, but, he hung his head as he told his mother that when Eric had let go, he'd done so in his underpants at the same time. He said that he was sorry; he couldn't help it, and Eric was in no condition to know any better.

Mrs. Lindstrom just patted her son's shoulder, telling him it was all right. She said that this happened sometimes in situations like this and not to be worried about it. Then she told Tommy to get out of bed and get himself cleaned up and into a fresh pair of underpants. Tommy shot her a scared look, worried about going to the bathroom to clean himself. He said as much, too! He told his mother that if his dad caught him in underpants that were wet in as these were, he'd get killed!

She had to agree with her son. Wordlessly, she handed him the wet washrag, then turned her back to give her son some privacy. Tommy took the cloth, gratefully, then got out of his soaked underpants. Quickly cleaning his crotch and legs, he took the towel, dried himself, and got into a fresh pair of underpants.

With Tommy taken care of, Mrs. Lindstrom then saw to Eric. Between the two of them, they got Eric cleaned up and the bedclothes changed. Eric was then placed back in bed; he immediately snuggled close to Tommy when he got back in bed with him. He stayed on his belly, though, and made no moves to repeat what he'd done a little while ago.

Tommy and Mrs. Lindstrom sat with Eric for the next several hours. They talked to him, stroked his hair, rubbed his shoulders. Sometime during the night, Eric sighed, deeply, then completely relaxed. When Tommy checked, he saw that his friend's eyes were now closed; the thumb falling out of his mouth. His breathing had become deep and even, all the normal signs of a person in deep, natural sleep. A shy smile was even on his lips as he slept.

Mrs. Lindstrom sighed a prayer of thanksgiving when this happened. Tommy looked at her, curiously, and was told that the crisis had now passed. Eric would sleep normally and would wake up his old self.

As she got up to leave the room, she told Tommy not to mention what Eric had done and caused him to do. If Eric mentioned it, Tommy was to tell him that it was not his fault; make -- sure -- he believed it wasn't his fault for doing as he had done.

Tommy nodded in complete understanding. He was firm in his resolve to let his friend know that he wasn't mad at him for what he'd done. That being settled, Tommy was soon fast asleep.

Somewhere in the North Atlantic, the "U.S.S. Enterprise" [CVN 68] moved herself into the wind, preparing to launch one of her aircraft.

Below decks, Martin T. Lindstrom, LT (O-3), USN, was putting the finishing touches on his flight gear. As he had been doing this, he couldn't help worry ing over all that had happened at his home. He was in dreadful fear of what might happen to Eric, and also his little brother Tommy. With a grim look on his face, he fastened the last buckle, grabbed his flight kit and helmet, and went on up to the flight deck.

He was met by his friend and supervisor, Lieutenant Commander Mark Robinson. It was his bird they would be flying in to Great Lakes Naval Base. He had just completed his pre-flight inspection and nodded to the deck crew to move the aircraft into final position as Marty came up on deck. He grinned at him, then came over and inspected Marty and his flight gear. Everything was in order.

Mark told Marty that he hoped that everything turned out well with his kid brother and his brother's friend. Marty sighed, then clapped his friend on the shoulder, thanking him for his good wishes. They were just getting ready to climb aboard the F-14 "Tomcat" aircraft when they heard a familiar voice call out to them. Getting down, they saw Commander Jorgenson, the "Chief Air Boss" coming toward them with a message flimsy in his hand.

Jorgenson handed the flimsy to Mark, telling him that it had just come in though the E-Mail channels. Marty thanked him for delivering it, then read it. He crumpled it into his fist when he finished; a dark look came across his face. Jorgenson looked at him, then, in a friendly voice, asked him if the thought it was a good idea, going himself, instead of letting the authorities handle the situation.

A firm look on his face, Marty looked at Jorgenson and told him it was best for him to handle the situation. He thanked him again, then snapped a salute to the Commander, asked permission to leave the ship. Returning the salute, Jorgenson gave him permission. Both aviators ascended the ladder and settled themselves into the large aircraft.

Engines started, the forward landing lights cutting a swath in the dark night, the aircraft taxied into final position. Both men turned as one, snapping a salute, then got the "thumbs up" for the deck crew. With a roar that shook the still night, the aircraft took off at full throttle. Soon, even the light of its engines was lost in the dark moonless night.

Marty was on his way -- at last.

Something was nudging Tommy. All at once he was awake. It was Eric, asking him, sleepily, if Tommy could let go of the choke hold he had on him, please? With a shout of joy, Tommy looked at his friend, making sure that he was all there.

Eric, on the other hand, had virtually no memory of the night before after he'd been taken across Mr. Lindstrom's knees. He was still groggy; his bottom was still on fire, but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. He was still naked under the sheets, and still quite close to Tommy. He started to rise, then a worried look came over his face. Turning to Tommy, he asked if he'd done -- something -- to Tommy during the night?

Since it was Eric who brought the subject up, he told him what had happened. He also stressed to Eric, gripping him by the shoulders, that it was not his fault! It was something that just happened; that's all. Tommy shook Eric, trying to drive home the fact that he didn't hate him; thought no less of him, either! He pleaded with Eric to believe him; not to feel sad or mad, either.

Eric was still on his belly; he buried his head in the pillow in shame at what he'd been told. He was blushing furiously, waves of shame and revulsion going through his thin frame. He couldn't believe he'd done it, but, the memory was now fully upon him and wouldn't be denied.

Tommy, on the other hand, was beginning to get angry with Eric. He pulled Eric's head up, forcing him to look at him. He then told Eric that if he didn't stop this nonsense, right now, he'd.......he'd.........well, he'd spank Eric himself!

It was the fierce look on Tommy's face that finally convinced Eric. With a ghost of a chuckle, he told Tommy that he didn't think he needed another spanking; not right now, at least. He then gripped Tommy's hand in a tight grip, then in a low, emotion packed voice, thanked him for not feeling badly towards him.

Tommy just told him to forget it. He then got out of bed and went to the bathroom. When he got back, Eric asked Tommy to give him a hand getting out of bed and to the bathroom. Tommy nodded, then helped him out of bed. He got Eric into a pair of briefs; Eric hissing as the cotton rubbed his behind. They managed to get to the bathroom without Eric having an accident.

Once back in the bedroom, Tommy helped Eric to get dressed. Eric felt his behind, then asked Tommy to get out a second pair of briefs. Tommy nodded, got the briefs, and pulled them on over the first pair. It was difficult getting into his 501s, but, with Tommy helping, he soon had them, his shoes, socks and the rest on and in good order.

They were about to go downstairs for breakfast when Mrs. Lindstrom came in the room. She shot Eric a stern look, then asked him what he thought he was doing? He was to get undressed and get back in that bed, pronto! Once again Eric pleaded with her, then, reluctantly, she gave in to the boy's demand. But first, she was going to get some more of that slave rubbed into his bottom.

With the ministrations done, Eric was helped up and got his jeans and shirt tucked and put back into place. They followed Mrs. Lindstrom down to the kitchen. As they were getting the rest of the meal on the table, Mr. Lindstrom came into the kitchen.

Glowering at the boys, muttering that it wasn't proper for them to be dressed like that for breakfast, he sat down and said grace.

The boys hurried through their breakfast, eager to be out of there. They finished, put their plates in the sink, and were going to help with the rest when they heard the bus outside. Mrs. Lindstrom handed the boys their lunches, gave them both a kiss and a hug, then scooted them out the door.

Great Lakes Naval Base -- 05:30

As Marty got out of the aircraft, he clasped hands with Mark, thanking him for the smooth flight. Mark just told him to get the heck out of there; he'd be waiting for him to return him to the ship.

Getting into the AeroClub hangar, he signed out a Cessna. He hadn't changed out of his flight gear, just went immediately to the office. He finished filing his flight plan with Ops, then did the pre-flight on the Cessna. With everything in order, he stooped for a quick phone call to a number in Illinois. Speaking briefly with the party on the other end, he nodded, then hung up the phone.

With a grim look on his face, Marty got aboard the Cessna. Running up the engines, he was soon taxiing onto the runway. Ops turn completed, he got permission to take-off, followed by the unofficial good luck and clear flying.

Pointing the Cessna down the runway, Marty was soon airborne. Turning west, he made his first vector turn that would bring him into Minnesota airspace. The grim look never left his face.

When they arrived at school, Eric discovered that he was to report to Mr. Erickson's office immediately. Looking at Tommy, he gave his friend a clap on the shoulder, then took off for Mr. Erickson's office. Arriving, he was not even stopped by the secretary; she just motioned for him to go right in. Thanking her, it was with some nervousness that he opened the door and slipped inside the office.

Mr. Erickson gasped at seeing Eric's condition. He came around the desk, then guided Eric over to the large leather sofa on the right of the office. There were two matching leather chairs and a coffee table, too. Mr. Erickson moved the coffee table out of the way, took Eric's backpack from his shoulder, then put him on the couch on his belly. Seeing that he was comfortable, he muttered that this had gone on too far. With a dark look on his face, he was starting to get up when Eric grabbed his hand, forcing him to stop. He sat back down, a concerned look on his face.

Eric looked at him, then said, in a strong low voice, that it was nothing. The plan was working. With any luck, the individual he'd contacted should be there at 16:00 local. When Eric was going to explain, Mr. Erickson nodded, saying he knew Military Time. Mr. Erickson then asked how he was; did he need his backside tended to.

Nodding gratefully to Mr. Erickson, he said that Mrs. Lindstrom had already seen to it. Mr. Erickson put his hand, gently, on the seat of Eric's jeans. Feeling no dampness, he patted Eric on the shoulder and went to his desk.

Activating the intercom, he asked his secretary to get Tommy Lindstrom to his office, please. Don't call for him, send someone to get him. The secretary was about to answer when there was a brief knock at his door, followed by it opening. As Mr. Erickson straightened up, he saw that it was, indeed, Tommy Lindstrom, but along with him was the Dean himself.

Geoffrey Edward Masterson had been the Dean of the School for almost 30 years. In his time, he'd seen much, heard much, experienced much. The tale that Tommy had brought him was the most shocking he'd heard in his life. He was a man slow to anger, but, once there, he could be the deadliest of foes. He was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what!

They all sat down by Eric, who was still lying on the couch. Between them all, he finally got the full story. He couldn't help looking at Eric, every few minutes, marveling at the bravery and determination of the boy. It almost broke his heart as they described Eric's injuries; even the photos supplied by Mr. Erickson couldn't compare to what his imagination was telling him was beneath the denim seat of the boy's jeans. The anger boiled beneath the surface at what these fine boys had gone through until now. He was more than determined that Mr. Lindstrom would pay -- and pay dearly.

It was then that Eric, frustrated, punched his fist into the leather cushion, then shouted, No, _d_a_m_n_it! That's not what Mr. Lindstrom needed! Jail would do him no good; he needed other help! Looking into Dean Matsterson's face, he swore to him that he'd lie on the stand, if necessary, saying it was someone else who had beaten him! Eric didn't give a tinker's _d_a_m_n_ about the consequences to him; he would -- NOT-- be responsible for breaking up the Lindstrom family. With that out, he buried his face in the cushion, crying softly.

To say that the three were astounded by Eric's declaration would be the understatement of the century. It was Tommy who knelt down by Eric's side, then whispered thanks, Eric, but I even had to tell, finally. What happened to you happened to my big brother and me, too. It made him leave their home, finally; now it was time for it to all stop. He then gripped Eric's shoulder in a tight grip, saying that he wished that Eric was his "for real" brother, too.

The tableau was broken by the secretary coming into the office. In her hands were two FAX messages. Without a word, she handed them to Mr. Erickson, then left the office.

Mr. Erickson read the FAXes, then handed them to Dean Masterson. Having read them, he nodded to Mr. Erickson. Mr. Erickson sat down on the coffee table and read the boys the messages. Eric and Tommy looked at Mr. Erickson, curiosity on their faces. Holding the first one, Mr. Erickson told them that Eric's mother and father would be home early. They were expecting to arrive in Ceaderville Airport at 7:00 PM. He then held the second one, looking at Tommy. He told them that it was an in-flight message advising that LT Marty Lindstrom was expected to arrive at Ceaderville Airport no later than 6:30 PM. He had been re-routed due to storms.

Eric let out a sigh of relief; his shoulders shaking with silent sobs of joy. Tommy just sat back, excited and worried at the same time. He was finally going to see his big brother! The smile on his face faded as he saw Eric, crying, on the couch. He was at his side, compassion welling up in him, telling Eric that it was over now. He'd never have to feel such pain ever again.

Lifting his head up, Eric had a shy smile on his face. He gripped Tommy's hand, saying that the rest of the plan just had to work out now! There was no way it could miss! He was trying to wipe his face with his sleeve when Mr. Erickson, a stern look on his face, stopped him. Handing him his handkerchief, he let him clean up his face.

While he was doing this, a thought came to Eric. He remembered the tone of voice and the language he'd used to Mr. Erickson and Dean Masterson. He looked at them, then apologized for his bad language and his other actions. He also told them he realized what he'd done deserved a whipping, but, could they please wait until his rear had healed? Then he'd report for his punishment, if that was all right?

Dean Masterson looked at Eric, first with awe, then compassion. He looked over to Mr. Erickson, then said, emotion thickening his voice, that he'd heard nothing like that from Eric. What was the boy talking about, Mr. Erickson? Have any ideas? Mr. Erickson chuckled, then said that he had no idea either. Must be something the boy had heard somewhere else. Then, Mr. Erickson looked at Eric sternly. He told him that usually such actions merited 12 swats on the underpants. Since Eric had never done anything like that, there was no reason to worry about it. It never happened.

Eric didn't feel right about this. He'd been raised to believe that if you did something wrong, you paid for it. He was about to say that, when Tommy put his hand over his mouth, then said that Eric understood and said thank you. He then made Eric nod his head, then grinned to Eric. Knocking Tommy's hand away, he said to Tommy that he didn't have to pull all his hair out of his head!

This made the two men laugh; soon the boys were joining them. Then, Mr. Erickson stopped, looking at his watch, then wondered what they could do with Eric until his parents arrived. Eric said there was no question, he was going to go on with his classes. When he tried to get up, though, he let out a small gasp of pain, and sank back down to the couch.

That does it, young man, said Mr. Erickson, sternly. Looking to Dean Masterson, who nodded in agreement, Mr. Erickson called the Infirmary and asked for some attendants to come over and get Eric. Eric started to protest at this; he was just a little sore. Once he got up and moving again, he'd be all right. There was no need for any fuss.

Dean Masterson pinned him to the couch with a look, then told Eric he had no choice. Otherwise, they might remember something they'd heard and have to take action on it. Paling, Eric said, yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir. But, they had to promise Eric one thing. He had to be allowed to be there when the final part of the plan came together. Eric was firm on this point; nothing could be said to make him change his mind. Reluctantly, both men agreed.

Tommy got up, grabbed his backpack, then asked Mr. Erickson if he could have a note for his next class. Mr. Erickson shook his head saying that he wanted Tommy to stay at Eric's side for the rest of the day. Both boys started to protest that this wasn't necessary, but stopped when Dean Masterson raised his finger. They both hung their heads and mumbled yes, sir.

The attendants arrived with a stretcher. They looked from Eric to Dean Masterson and Mr. Erickson, curiously, but subsided when they were told that the Dean was aware of the entire situation. They lifted Eric, gently, onto the stretcher in the exact position they'd found him in when they arrived. Strapping him in, Mr. Erickson stopped them when they would have tried to buckle the strap that went over the seat of Eric's jeans. He told them to go

just as they were. Nodding silently, they left Mr. Erickson's office with Eric and Tommy.

Eric was put into bed in the infirmary. They checked out his vitals, looked into his medical records, then the physician on duty gave him a shot -- not in the behind, either. Soon, Eric nodded to sleep. While he was out, they took off his clothes and settled him under the sheets.

The doctor was out-raged when he saw the condition of Eric's buttocks! He went to work on them after shooing Tommy out of the room. The doctor kept muttering to himself, angrily, while he gently treated the wounds. He was glad that all he had to do to the worst ones was attach steri-strips to hold the wounds closed. Then, applying Bacitracin ointment, he took two large pads and placed them over Eric's buttocks. The procedure finished, they re-tied the hospital johnny and covered him with the blanket. Snapping off his gloves, he threw them in the bowl in disgust, then stormed out of Eric's room. He saw Tommy waiting, then told him he could go back in the room and stay with his friend.

Once he was back in his office, he called Mr. Erickson and told him exactly what he thought of a person that could inflict such injuries on a young boy! A regular spanking on the seat of a boy's pants; yes, this he could understand! With this he had no problems! But, this! This...... this............ well, his just went beyond the pale! Running out of steam, he listened, intently, then, with a chagrined look on his face, hung up the phone. He sat there, thoughtfully for a moment, then started on the report that was required in cases such as this.

When Eric woke, the first thing he saw was Tommy, sitting in the chair beside his bed, fast asleep. He chuckled, softly, then realized that his rear wasn't hurting anymore! Surprised, he let his hand run over his buttocks, feeling the large pads covering them. With a sigh of relief, he brought his left hand back to his side. He noted the watch, then stopped, looking at it intently. Then, he shouted, -- OH, _s_h_i_t_ --!!! This woke Tommy up, muttering what, what??? What's wrong, Eric; you hurting???

Instead of answering the questions, he demanded his clothes -- quickly! There was no time to waste. When Tommy made no movement, Eric got out of the bed, limped over to the closet, got out his clothes and started to dress himself. In his agitation, he just put on one pair of briefs, his Levi's, then sat down without thinking to get on his socks and shoes. Tommy rushed over to help him, but got his hands batted out of the way. Instead, he got the T-shirt and shirt out of the closet. Handing them to Eric, who scrambled into them, he stood in front of Eric and demanded to be told what, exactly, the hell was going on?

In exasperation, Eric pointed at the clock and yelled, the time, Tommy; look at the _d_a_m_n_ time! Tommy looked at the clock, then paled. Full understanding was upon him. He quickly helped his friend finish getting dressed, then they both grabbed the rest of their things and quit the room. They had almost made it to the entrance when they were stopped by Mr. Erickson. He demanded of the boys as to where they thought they were going?

Turning back, shifting his backpack on his shoulder, Eric quickly explained the situation to Mr. Erickson. They were almost too late! If they weren't at Eric's house when Mr. Lindstrom arrived, the whole plan would be ruined! They only had forty-five minutes to get there! They had to leave, right now!

Mr. Erickson nodded, then motioned the boys to follow him. They did, and were soon at his car. Telling them to get in, he started the car and drove to Eric's house. While driving, he got on his cellular phone, called Dean Masterson, and explained the situation. Finished, he put the phone back in its cradle and concentrated on his driving.

Pulling up to Eric's house, he once again to told the boys to be careful. The boys thanked Mr. Erickson and got out of the car and into the house. Shaking his head, Mr. Erickson put the car in gear and left.

What they didn't notice was Mr. Lindstrom's car parked on the street across from Eric's house. He had seen them arrive with one of the instructors, but hadn't heard what they'd said. He was curious, yet angry that those darned boys had had to bother an instructor with something like getting a ride! He finally thought that they must have done something wrong in school; something that they had to be punished for. With a grim smile on his face, he knew he'd get it out of them when he got them home!

The boys got into Eric's room with a sigh of relief. They threw their jackets and backpacks on Eric's bed, then Eric hurriedly started the computer. With it all ready for his work, Eric told Tommy to get downstairs and unlock the door so that he could just yell for Mr. Lindstrom to come into the house. Tommy flew out the door, down the stairs, and un-locked the door. It was he who saw his dad's car, still parked on the side street. With a spasm of fear, he rushed back up to Eric's room.

Eric looked up at Tommy as he flew back into the room. As Tommy told him what he'd seen, Eric paled. Then, with dashing fingers, he brought up his comm programme. He made a quick FAX, then sent it on its way. With the confirmation of delivery, Eric quickly exited the programme, then got back into his work. The boys stopped, still, when they heard the forceful knock on the front door. Motioning to Tommy, Eric told him to go ahead and open the door. Tommy did so, returning shortly with a grimly smiling Mr. Lindstrom.

With quick, practiced motions, Eric brought his system down. Then, without a word, he limped over to his bed, got his jacket and backpack, handed Tommy his stuff, then they filed silently out of the room.

Shortly after they quit the room, his computer and monitor came back on. If one could look, they would have seen the monitor displaying the FAX programme on auto-resend and the message: "He may know what's going on! Come quickly -- please! Eric and Tommy"

They rode back to the Lindstrom farm in silence. When they arrived, Mr. Lindstrom told the boys to get rid of their school stuff and then get out to the barn for their chores.

All the while they were involved with their chores, both boys would take a surreptitious look at their watches. They completed their chores, then waited while Mr. Lindstrom came and inspected their work. He found no fault in what they did, nodded, then told them to get up tothe house and get ready for supper.

Ceaderville Airport -- 6:30 PM.

With calm precision, Marty Lindstrom landed the Cessna and taxied to his parking place. Engine shut-down and post-flight checklist were quickly accomplished. He got out of the plane, grabbed his kit, then jumped off the wing. He locked the door, then went into the Ops office to complete his flight paperwork.

With his work completed, he was about to look for a ride when the Manager came to him with a message flimsy in his hand. He greeted Marty warmly, for they had known each other as boys. The reunion was brief, for Marty took the flimsy and read it. A curious frown on his face, he turned to the Manager and asked him if this next plane was on time. Nodding, he said they were on final approach. Thanking the manager, Marty went out and waited by the taxiway.

Standing there, smoking a cigarette, Marty saw the approach lights of an executive Lear jet. The plane landed, then taxied over to where Marty was standing. Crushing out his cigarette, Marty stood there, waiting for the passengers to de-plane.

It wasn't a long wait. Daniel and Lisa Williamson stepped off the plane, warmly thanked the pilot for the good flight, then started towards the Manager's Office. When Marty stepped forward, the stopped, looking at each other. Then Mr. Williamson stepped over to Marty, offering his hand, and introducing himself and Lisa. They both were impressed with the fine young naval officer, but cut their conversation short. Mr. Williamson wanted to get to their car and get out to the farm -- quickly!

With all three in the car, they left the airport and drove quickly to the Lindstrom Farm.

It was 6:35 PM.

The boys were soon ready for dinner. They came into the kitchen and greeted Mrs.Lindstrom warmly, Tommy giving his mother a big hug and a kiss. She stroked his head, smiled and kissed him, then indicated to Eric that he was to get a hug and a kiss, too. Eric smiled, then limped over for his hug and kiss. Then she told them to finish with setting the table and get to their places.

Eric saw the pillow still at his place, and was grateful it was there. He put the last items in place just as Mr. Lindstrom came in the back door. With a barely surpressed shudder, he calmed himself with a look at his watch.

It was 6:50 PM.

It was not a very long drive, but it seemed to drag on forever.

Marty had been getting a really bad feeling that something was going dreadfully wrong. It was getting worse with every passing mile. Marty finally asked Mr. Williamson if he couldn't go any faster?

Mr. Williamson looked back at Marty, and, for a moment, some un-spoken communication went between them. Nodding, Mr. Williamson turned back to his driving. They shot away, into the night, with all three of them stopping to look at their watches.

They either read 6:50 PM or 18:50.

Finished with their chores in the kitchen, the boys took their positions behind their chairs, waiting for Mr. Lindstrom to take his seat. Instead, Mr. Lindstrom went over and took the razor strop off the hook, then pulled his chair away from the table and sat down with a grim look on his face. He told the boys to come over and stand there in front of them; there'd be some talking before there was any eating!

The boys stood in front of Mr. Lindstrom, their hands behind their backs, covering the seat of their jeans. They had paled with fear, especially when Mr. Lindstrom brought it down on the floor in a wicked smash.

Mrs. Lindstrom sad that there would be none of this in her kitchen. Mr. Lindstrom shouted back that it was enough, woman! He had questions to ask these boys, and by God, he'd have the truth out of them or they'd take their meal standing up!

I saw you, boys, being driven to Eric's house by one of the instructors from school. You boys were late getting to Eric's house, he purred. That means you must have done something wrong; something you had to be punished for. Now, I want the truth out of you two! Tell me what you did wrong, and maybe you just might be able to sit down for supper! Now, Tommy, you first! What happened?

Tommy looked as if he was about ready to go to the bathroom in his jeans! He didn't know what to say when he received a further surprise. Eric, after hearing Mr. Lindstrom's questions, burst out laughing!

Everyone was shocked by Eric's actions, but, Mr. Lindstrom was not pleased that the boys might have a legitimate excuse! He told Eric to be quiet; to explain himself!

From the back pocket of his Levi's, Eric took out the note that Mr. Erickson had given him. He'd thought this might have happened, and asked for a new note from Mr. Erickson to cover both boys. This one said they were both helping him on a special computer project for the school that might keep them after school. Any problems with this or questions were to be referred to Mr. Erickson.

As Mr. Lindstrom read the note out-loud, both Tommy and Mrs. Lindstrom visibly relaxed. Mr. Lindstrom got angrier as he read the note. Finished reading it, he crumpled it and threw it in the trash.

Fixing Tommy with a look, he asked him exactly who gave him permission to fool around with computers? You know that I don't hold with them, boy, and neither do you. It seems you've forgotten that little lesson. Well, I'll help you to remember! Get over here, right now!

Tommy looked at his dad, pleading that it was for school; that he hadn't done anything wrong! Eric chimed in, saying that it was his fault for getting Tommy interested in computers; that anyone who wanted to amount to something -- had-- to know how to use computers! Mrs. Lindstrom said that the boys had done no wrong; there was no need for any strapping! Besides, the food was getting cold; they could sort this all out after supper!

-- SILENCE!!! -- , thundered Mr. Lindstrom, slamming the table with his fist. Then he told the boys since they both admitted what they'd done, they would only get strapped on the seat of their jeans. He then told them to empty their back pockets and lean over the table, side-by-side.

Wordlessly, Tommy started to empty his back pockets. Eric just stood there, his eyes fixed on the razor strop, his mouth forming the words, no, please, silently. Mr. Lindstrom went to Eric, roughly pulled his wallet from his back pocket, then his comb, then pushed him into position. He then checked Tommy's jeans, then pushed him into position. All the while he'd ignored his wife, saying that these boys needed correction and by God, they were going to take their medicine -- every single, last drop of it.

The boys gritted their teeth, waiting for the first cut of the strap. Tommy was praying that Eric wouldn't fall apart on him; Eric just praying that it would be stopped!

Mr. Lindstrom raised his arm back, his eyes fixed on the slender jeans-clad forms in front of him. He was bringing his hand down for the first swat when someone grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. Surprised, he looked first at the hand that held him, then into a face he'd not seen in years.

Still up to your old tricks, dad?, said Marty, grinning thinly at his father's face.

At the sound of the voice, both boys sank to their knees in front of the table, shaking with relief that they were not going to get spanked.

Eric? Son?, a hesitant voice called to him. Wiping his face, he turned, painfully, and saw his mother and father. With a cry of joy that came from the very depth of his heart and soul, he tried to rise and go to them, but couldn't move for the pain he felt.

They both were at their son's side, lifting him up, kissing him and telling him they were sorry; that he was all right now. Eric was just content to hug them both, fiercely, crying into his father's overcoat.

Seeing Daniel and Lisa with their son, Mrs. Lindstrom went to Tommy, gathering her son to her. He, too, was crying with relief at not getting whipped. They covered each other with kisses and hugs.

John Lindstrom had stood there; a battle of wills between him and his eldest son. His son's glacier blue eyes bored into his father's cloudy grey ones. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Marty pulled the razor strop from his father's hand and threw it in the trash. When he had done that, he turned back to his father, only to see him crumple up and fall into his chair. He leaned against the table, putting his elbows on it, then folded his head into his hands.

Both boys had quieted down, now. They saw Marty, still in his olive-drab flight suit, standing close to his father, a set look on his face. He then folded his arms across his chest, waiting for his father to say something.

Mr. Williamson had something to say, and he was going to say it! He started to move in Mr. Lindstrom's direction when he was stopped by his son. Eric pleaded with his father not to; there was no need for something like that. Looking at his son, he said, angrily, what, even after all that had happened to him? His behind in ruins, and you want nothing to happen to this.....this........this man??

Eric shook his head no. Lisa then laid her hand on her husband's arm, saying that it might be best for them to get Eric home. She looked over to Mrs. Lindstrom; for a moment, a silent communication passed between them. They nodded to each other, both wrapping their respective sons in their arms.

Marty had no problem finding his voice. With stinging cuts of his tongue, he lashed his father with all he'd done to him and Tommy over the years. He rubbed his father's face in each verbal picture he held in front of him. He said that, sure, sometimes they deserved what they got, but this boy didn't deserve something they never got!

Then he kneeled down at his father's side, saying to him thinly, Is that it, dad? Was it because Eric reminded you so much of me? Tell me, dad, were you whipping Eric or were you whipping me? Tell me, dad! You couldn't get to me anymore, so you saw this boy who was so much like me that you couldn't resist trying to shape him into your mold?? Tell, me, dad!!!!

Bringing his hands onto the table with a crash that rattled the dishes, Mr. Lindstrom cried out, YES!!! Turning to look at his eldest, he shouted, It's the TRUTH, _d_a_m_n_it! You had the same high-falutin' ways about you that this boy has; always thinking you were too _d_a_m_n_ good to work this farm with me! YES, _d_a_m_n_it! And, now, look at you! His voice faltered, then he repeated, weakly, this time, Look.......at................you.

It was only then that he saw the name patch on his eldest's chest. It proclaimed to the world that here was Martin T. "Marty" Lindstrom, LT, USN. It was then that he realized that his son was not the scapegrace and no-good he'd thought all these years, but a naval officer. The tears started to form in his eyes as he realized what he'd done all these years.

Yes, dad, said Marty, softly, look at me. For once in your life, just look at me! Did I turn out that badly? Have I turned out a terrible person of no worth as you swore I'd become for not staying here? Tears coming into his eyes, he took hold of his father's arms, then said, even more softly, Did you even stop to think that, even after all this, I still love you so deeply?

You.......you......still........love me......Martin?, his father said hesitantly.

Looking him fully in the eyes, Marty said, What do you think?, then pulled his father to him in a crushing embrace.

His face as a child's, Mr. Lindstrom raised his hand to his son's head, then started to stroke the fine blonde hair. Then, Mr. Lindstrom started to weep, stroking his son's head, and saying, over and over again, please, please, forgive me, son.

Eric looked over at his parents and smiled at them. It had all been worth it, even though he knew he was still going to be sleeping on his stomach for at least a week. Then, a determined look came over Eric's face. Turning to his parents, he told them that there was still one more thing he had do. He then limped over to where Marty and his father were, standing there till they noticed him.

Marty untangled himself from his father after sensing that Eric was there. He got his handkerchief out and dried his face, then did the same for his father. Then, Marty stood up and told his father there were others here that he needed to ask to be forgiven. Marty motioned to Tommy to come stand beside Eric in front of his father -- a position they were in not a half-hour before.

Eric looked at Mr. Lindstrom, then said, quietly, I forgive you, sir. I don't hate you for what you did. I have to be honest with you that I did deserve a paddling for the way I spoke out to you. I.......... I just never thought it would end up like this.

The surprise on Mr. Lindstrom's face was echoed in the faces of Daniel and Lisa Williamson, too. They thought they knew their son; his penchant for being forgiving, but they had never expected this much generosity and compassion. They just hugged each other, looking on their son with a new pride and love in their eyes.

Mr. Lindstrom didn't know what to say. He sat there, just looking into Eric's eyes. Then, Tommy put his hand on his father's arm and said that he still loved his daddy, too. He then said that if he deserved a spanking in the future, he'd take it as Eric did -- no noise or pleading, no crying or other nonsense. Then he embraced his father in a tight hug, kissing him on his cheek.

John Lindstrom could not believe what he had heard. He then hugged his son to him, tightly, then gathered Eric to him. He hugged both boys tightly, kissed them gently on their heads. He closed his eyes for a moment, then let the boys go. He looked from one to the other, then said, quietly, Thank you, boys. Thank you for more than you can ever understand.

He let them both up, then went over to Daniel and Lisa. He told them there was no excuse for what he'd done to Eric; that he was sorry, and that he'd do anything to make up for it. He then offered his hand to Daniel.

Daniel Williamson's first inclination was to still bash John Lindstrom's face in for what he'd done to his son. Then he looked over Lindstrom's shoulder to see his son, standing with Marty and Tommy. Marty was in the middle with his arms over both boy's shoulders, smiling. Both Eric and Tommy were standing there, smiling too, with their hands buried deep in the front pockets of the jeans. He then saw his son mouth the words, Please, papa??

Nodding to his son, and Lindstrom's two boys, Daniel Williamson took John Lindstrom's hand. Lisa Williamson added her hand over theirs. I still can't believe I'm doing this, John, he said, but if my son and yours can forgive you, then how can I not forgive you, too? Then he told him that he would forgo any charges against him if he would go seek counseling for this situation. And -- if Tommy needed a spanking; even Eric, for he would still be allowed to come over to play with Tommy, he would promise to cool down first.

Mr. Lindstrom promised to do as he was asked. He vowed to his God that he would. Anyone who knew John Lindstrom, knew that when he made such a vow, he kept to it -- no matter what.

Behind them, Tommy looked up at his brother, his face in a wide smile. Then he looked at Eric, who smiled back, then looked at Marty. He looked down at both boys, returned their smile, then gave them both a fierce, quick hug. Then he looked at Tommy, grinning, and told him that it looked as if he'd picked up another little brother. Was that okay with Tommy?

Hugging his brother, Tommy said, You bet, big brother! I don't mind sharing you with Eric at all! Then he looked at Eric, sharply, then asked when he was born. Eric told him, then Tommy got a disgusted look on his face. Darn!, he said, disgustedly, I'm -- STILL -- the little brother!

When they all heard Tommy say that, they all broke up laughing. Then, Daniel looked at Lisa, and said, Well, if that was the case, it looked as if they'd wound up with two new sons, too. Any problem with that, Lisa? Looking at her husband, she kissed him and replied, Not in the least, Daniel.

Then Mrs. Lindstrom said that there was still food to eat; they'd better all sit down right now before it gets any colder. Mrs. Williamson said they couldn't think of imposing on their family reunion. Mrs. Lindstrom said, Nonsense! I always make enough to feed a small army. She then told them she didn't want to hear another word; it was settled. Eric showed them to the bathroom so they could wash up, then took their coats for them. He then took them to the hall stand and hung them the hooks.

In the meantime, chairs were set around the table; more places were set, and everything was ready by the time his parents were finished. He found that his mother would be sitting on Mr. Lindstrom's right, with Marty on his left. Eric would be sitting in-between his parents, for it was the only chair with a pillow on it. Tommy was almost directly across from Eric, which pleased both boys.

Everyone was seated. Mr. Lindstrom looked at his eldest, pride once again in his eyes, and asked him to say the grace. Marty bowed his head, asked a blessing on the food and all those at the table. Raising his head, he said, Amen. Everyone else echoed him, then they fell to the meal.

There was a difference in the meal this night. The table was alive with conversation. The food was excellent, and they all found that they did have an appetite. There was one thing wrong, though, said Mr. Lindstrom. He still couldn't figure out how someone had gotten ahold of Marty! Would someone please tell him that?

Eric and Tommy looked at each other, then started giggling. Marty chuckled, then said, Well, dad, I think you might want to talk with Eric about that!

Well, Eric, said Mr. Lindstrom, now mock-sternly. What have you got to do with all this?

This reduced both boys to even more laughter. Finally, Eric's papa told him to mind his manners and answer the question. Still giggling a bit, he said, Yes, papa. Then he looked at Mr. Lindstrom with a grin a mile wide on his face. Well, sir, there was only one way I could do it so quickly.

His eyebrow arching, he said, And what way was that, Eric?

The laughter bubbling to the surface again, he told him he'd gotten through to Marty on the computer!

Mr. Lindstrom looked as if he'd been hit with a sledgehammer! His eyes opened wide, his mouth dropped open for a moment, then he shut his mouth with a snap. With a disgusted look on his face, he said that it figured! Somewhere, in all this mess, there just -- had -- to be some darned computer involved! I -- still -- don't like 'em.

Eric and Tommy looked at each other, then busted out laughing so hard they almost wet their jeans! It took a few minutes for both fathers to bring their sons back under control. When they were settled, once again, though, Mr. Lindstrom pointed a finger at Tommy. Tommy settled down at once, then looked at his father, expectantly.

Mr. Lindstrom then told Tommy that he was going to learn all he could about computers. He looked at Eric and Mr. Williamson, asking them if they wouldn't mind teaching Tommy computers. Mr. Williamson looked down at Eric, then said, Well, son? How about it? Think we can help Tommy learn computers?

Well, papa, said Eric thoughtfully, I don't know. Seeing the stricken look on Tommy's face, he relented. Looking up at his papa, he told him that Tommy was way behind. It would mean that Tommy would have to spend some week-ends at their house to catch up, right, Tommy? As he said this, he kicked Tommy under the table. Tommy jumped, a surprised look on his face, then, seeing the look on Eric's face, quickly told them Eric was right; he had a lot of make-up work to do.

Marty just started laughing, then pointed his finger from Eric to Tommy then back to Eric again. Wiping his eyes, he told them that he'd never seen such a con so beautifully laid out! In all the years in the Navy as an enlisted man, before his getting commissioned, he'd never seen such a con as he'd seen there this night, right in his own parent's home.

Eric ducked his head, blushing furiously. He knew that his papa knew what he was doing, but he didn't think the others would tumble to it. With a sheepish grin on his face, he just told them, Well? A boy's just gotta try, once in a while, right?

Everyone laughed at this. Eric's papa ruffled his son's hair, calling him a junior Machiavelli. Eric bore it all, but was most happy at the thought that his plan had succeeded!

Finally, when the Williamson's arrived home, Eric went up to his room with a grateful sigh. As he was un-packing his suitcase, he noticed that his computer was still working. He went over to it, noticed what was on the screen, then he sat down hastily. He winced at the pain sitting down caused him, but he canceled the programme that was currently running. He shut the computer down, patting it as if it was a faithful pet, then got up to go to the bathroom.

His father came in to help him with his shower, then helped to re-dress his wounds. He then helped Eric into his pajamas, then guided him to his bed. Lifting him up, he gently lowered him in on his stomach, then pulled the covers over him.

They were joined by Eric's mother, who gave him a kiss, then gave him a pill that the doctor wanted him to take to help him sleep. Eric took it, grimacing at the taste of the pill, then laid himself back down. He smiled at his parents, then told them he was glad to be back home in his own bed. Giving him one more kiss; a hug, then they left his room, wishing him good night and sweet dreams.

Eric snuggled down in his bed, a smile on his face. Yes, everything he'd planned had come to pass. Mr. Lindstrom was now reconciled with Marty; Tommy didn't have to fear his father anymore; he didn't have to worry, too much, about getting spanked by Mr. Lindstrom either. He was thankful for all that; even more thankful that Tommy would be spending the next week-end at his home.

As he drifted off to sleep, the last thought he had was this:

He -- hated -- sleeping on his stomach!!!

The Beginning -- Eric's House, Friday Morning

When he got to his computer work station, he found that sitting was no problem for him anymore. He smiled gratefully at that; the only problem he had was that his healing bottom itched all the time! With a rueful look on his face, he activated the monitor and accessed his E-Mail. Smiling, he recognized who the mail was from and was soon reading it:

"Eric
"Well, bud; this is the week-end finally! I'm looking forward to spending the week-end with you! I've got a ton of questions to ask you about this new program you sent me; it's not working right on my computer! :( Well, we can talk about that when I see you in school, today, okay? <BG>
"BTW -- (HEY! I'm getting pretty good at this stuff, ain't I??? <BG>), I'm going to bring my clothes and stuff to school with me today. This way we can go directly to your house after school! Neat thinking, huh?? :)
"OH!!! --GREAT NEWS--, Eric! Marty said that he'll take us on a plane ride this week-end, too! If it's all right with your mom and dad, that is. He's going to stop by your house tonight to talk it over with your folks! Geeeze, Eric; I hope they say it's okay!
"Well, bud; gotta go! I have to grab a shower before Marty gets in there!
He always hogs all the hot water! <groan!> Then he has the nerve to look innocent when I complain about it! <-grrrrrrrr!-> He even smacked my on my butt when I told him about, too! Well, I guess I gotta take the good with the bad, eh? <G>
"Okay; I'm outta here for real! <G> TTYL at school! BTW if you want to answer this E-Mail, I'll be checking my 'puter again before I leave to catch the bus, okay?
"Later! <G>
"Da Little Bro"
"Tommy"

As Eric was reading the E-Mail, he had to smile at the way Tommy had written the message. He remembered that, just two weeks ago, Tommy would never have been able to do that; especially at his own house!

Eric wrote a short reply to the message, then sent it on it's way. Putting the computer back into stand-by mode, he was still thinking about all that had happened. Looking out his window at the sun-splashed yard; the large stand of Douglas fir, beech, aspen and maple trees, he found himself drifting back to those events.

He remembered staying at Tommy's house because his folks had to go back to Chicago to complete the final arrangements with their respective companies. It was there that he'd been treated badly by Tommy's papa, Mr. John Lindstrom. He felt the sting of shame, once again, at how he'd been made to strip out of his underpants because they were blue and not white ones. He felt the grip on his arm by Mr. Lindstrom as he pulled him up to Tommy's bedroom. He felt Mr. Lindstrom's hands on his underpants as he pulled them down; then the first cut of the razor strop on his bare behind!

After that beating, he'd had problems moving, but, it brought about a plan that had succeeded. Using his computer skills, he'd been able to reach Tommy's brother aboard the aircraft carrier "Enterprise": Marty Lindstrom, a full Lieutenant; serving as the "Third Air Operations Officer" in the "Enterprise". He smiled as he remembered their re-union via computer, then thought grimly about Marty almost not arriving in time.

Sighing, he remembered the final confrontation in the kitchen of the Lindstrom house. Marty, along with his mama and papa had arrived in time; just as the boys were about to get a strapping on the seat of their jeans. The confrontation between Mr. Lindstrom and Marty was intense, but it finally resolved their differences. They were now, once again, a family. He smiled at the thought that he had been "officially adopted" by Marty as his "little brother"-- with all the rights, privileges and responsibilities that went with it!

He jumped as there was a knock on his door, then his papa saying, "Eric? Are you going to sleep your life away? Time to get ready for school!"

"Come in, papa!" he shouted, happily. He turned the monitor back on, then brought up the E-Mail that Tommy'd sent him. He turned as his papa came into his bedroom, a smile on his face for his son.

"What do you have there, Eric?" he asked, curiously.

With an impudent grin on his face, he replied, "Look for yourself, papa! Tommy -- is -- getting good at this now! He managed this all by himself; well, his new computer helped, too!"

Daniel Williamson crossed the floor and was soon standing behind his son. He bent to give his son a hug and a kiss, then stood behind him with his arm around Eric's shoulder. He had to smile at the message Tommy'd sent; his smile got even wider as he felt his son brush the back of his hand with his cheek. ::God!::, he thought, ::I have one heck of a son! I love this boy so much!::

He patted his son's shoulder, then said, seriously, "He is getting good, Eric. I know that you've been helping him; I'm proud of you both. Right now, though, young man, it's time for you to get ready for school! Into the shower, right now! March!"

He stood back to let his son get up from his chair. Eric stood quickly, moving much easier now. He'd almost completely recovered from the strapping he'd received from Mr. Lindstrom. He smiled at his papa, then said, "Okay, papa. I won't be long. May I ask a favour, papa, while I'm taking my shower?"

Hugging him, he said, "What, son?"

Getting loose from his father, he went back over to his bed and took off his pajama top. He turned to him and said, "Today is a `Formal Day' at school. Would you mind getting out my good stuff for me? I kinda forgot to do that before I went to bed last night. I'm sorry, papa."

Giving his son a mock-stern glance, he said, "Eric, you should have done that last night -- before you went to bed! Then his papa realized that he could count on the fingers of one hand the times his son had forgotten this task -- and still had four fingers left. Then he said; again mock-sternly, "Well, all right, son. Just get yourself in the bathroom and get showered." He went over to the closet; passing Eric, he gave him a gentle swat on the seat of his pajama pants, then turned him and scooted him to the bathroom.

Eric yelped at the swat; jumped a bit, then went into the bathroom while rubbing his behind. He knew that his papa wasn't very mad at him for not putting out his school clothes. He just wanted to remind him what could happen if he forgot again. He closed the bathroom door, started the shower, then took off his pajama pants.

As he straightened up, he caught his reflection in the mirror. He was able to see a portion of his behind. Standing, he stood with his back facing the mirror; craning his head around, he could see that his behind had only two lines that ran across his buttocks. Gone were all the bruises; all the other welt marks were gone, too. Rubbing his hand over his behind, he sighed, then got into the shower.

He left the bathroom ten minutes later, now showered and cleaned. He didn't see his papa, but he did see that his papa had laid everything out for him. Smiling, he finished drying himself off, then got into his underpants, (blue! <G>), T-shirt, then got on his tan Levi's "Dockers". He took the yellow Oxford shirt off the hanger and shrugged into it. He buttoned the shirt, tucked it into his pants, then took his tie and got that on tying a "Double Windsor" knot. His socks were soon on, as well as his shoes, then he pulled on the blue school blazer with the school's crest on the pocket. Looking the mirror, he brushed his thick red hair, then got his room and the bathroom cleaned and put back in order. Looking around once last time to make sure all was in order, he went downstairs for breakfast.

His mama and papa were already seated at the table when he came into kitchen. They looked up at him, then both smiled and said good-morning. He went over to his mama, put his arms around her in a hug and gave her a kiss. Then he did the same for his papa, thanking him again for helping him out. He went over to his place and sat down, taking his napkin and putting it in his lap.

Mrs. MacDewey smiled at Eric as she laid his breakfast plate on the table before him. Smiling back, he wished her a good morning then began to eat hungrily. She gave him a pat on the shoulder, then went back to the stove for the coffee pot to serve his parents.

As he ate, he thought that they were lucky to have Mrs. MacDewey working for them. With his papa's company doing extremely well; his mama's work going that well, too, it had been decided that they did need someone to tend the house. Putting an ad in the local paper, his parents had interviewed several other people, but, when they met Mrs. MacDewey, they all liked her instantly. Her references were fine; she was hired on the spot!

Mrs. MacDewey was a widow with none of her family in the immediate area. At fifty-five, she was a kindly lady; not very short, but not tall either. She was a generously proportioned lady with silvered hair and shining green eyes that had generous laugh creases around them. She was also not adverse to correcting Eric if he needed it. She had raised her five boys and two girls in the same fashion; they had all turned out very well. Eric received the standard warning from his parents: if he had to be corrected by Mrs. MacDewey, his parent would give a repeat performance once they got home!

She was a great cook, too, along with the innate ability to help a boy out when he had a problem. Mrs. MacDewey never indulged Eric; however, there was always a special treat for him when he got home from school.

Eric was really taken with her. She reminded him so much of his Grandmother; she of the gentle voice and smiles who had passed on three years earlier. They shared a special relationship; once of kindness, trust and love. Finishing his breakfast, he looked at his watch, then got up quickly taking his plate and glass over to the sink. Mrs. MacDewey smiled at Eric; said that he didn't have to do that, but thanks anyway. Giving her a hug, he said so long to his parents, then rushed out to the closet for his coat.

The coat had been a present from his Grandfather; a three-quarter double-breasted black leather coat. It was lined with fleece; just perfect for the way the weather had turned. He got his scarf, gloves and backpack, then shot out the door for school. He enjoyed the walk to where he his school bus stopped; the crisp autumn air rustling the trees, spraying the multi-coloured leaves all along the street. Smiling at a squirrel who scolded him for interrupting his work of storing nuts for the winter, his bus arrived. Getting on, they were soon on the way to school. Eric got off his bus at school just as Tommy's bus pulled up to the curb.

Eric waited by the bus for his friend, then smiled as Tommy saw him and waved. He said so-long to Mr. Diedrickson as he got off the bus; Eric waved and said hi to Mr. Diedrickson. He smiled at both boys; told them they'd better get into school or they'd be seeing Mr. Erickson! With a laugh, he closed the bus door and pulled away.

Tommy and Eric laughed at that, then they hurried into the school. At their lockers, the boys got out of their coats, stuffed their other things in there, then went off to the Main Hall for Morning assembly.

Ceaderville Academy (1) -- The assembly

When they arrived, they saw that the Hall was almost filled. The other boys had mostly taken their seats; Eric and Tommy passed them by to get to theirs. As they passed, a few of their friends commented to Eric that they were glad he was moving better; they were looking forward to having their best soccer forward for the big game next Saturday.

Smiling, he told them he'd be there early; be there for practice, too! Finally getting to the third row from the front, Eric and Tommy moved in and took their assigned seats.

As they settled into their chairs, they noticed that the HeadMaster, Dean McMasters, getting up and approaching the podium. Seated on the left side of the podium were Mr. Erickson and Mrs. Johnston, head of the Student/Faculty Honour Council. Seated on the other side of the podium were Coach Thornson, Dr. Adams, the Chief of the Infirmary, and another man that they'd never seen before.

Seeing the man Tommy got a very nervous feeling. There was something about the man's scowling face that he just couldn't put his finger on -- something that he felt boded ill not only for Eric and him; but the rest of the boys, too. Nudging Eric, Tommy whispered "I wonder who that man is, Eric?"

Leaning over and putting his hand to the side of his mouth, Eric replied, "I don't know, Tommy. I wonder if he's a new faculty member; maybe he's a new Instructor."

Tommy, nervous now, said "I don't know, Eric. I just don't like the man for some reason."

Patting his friend on the shoulder, Eric said, "Hey, Tommy; don't sweat it, okay? Besides, even if he is a new Instructor, all of our classes are set. Besides, we haven't heard of any of the Instructors leaving or getting fired have we? So; don't sweat it -- no problems, okay?"

Both boys settled down as Dean McMasters spoke into the microphone. They began Morning assembly as always with the Pledge of Allegiance. Shortly thereafter, Chaplain Pastor Ingerson gave the invocation, then returned to his seat. This was the signal for all the boys to resume their seats; they did this with virtually no noise.

Nobody -- ever -- cut up in Morning assembly. The last time anyone did, the boy not only got 12 swats on the seat of his underpants; Mr. Erickson punished him right in front of the entire student body. Then the boy, with his trousers still puddled around his ankles, had to thank Mr. Erickson for his correction; then had to apologize to all the boys for disrupting the Morning assembly. Only then was he allowed to pull his trousers back up and leave the stage. His face wasn't the only thing that was red as he made his way back to his seat.

Knowing that he had all the boy's undivided attention, Dean McMasters said, "Good morning, boys. Today I have two announcements that will effect the majority of the you students. Before I make those announcements, there is another task set before me; one that I enjoy doing."

With a severe look on his face, he continued. "You boys know of the incident that two of your peers went through this past week or so. While shocking in it's nature, it all came to a successful conclusion through the efforts of one of those boys involved."

Eric was blushing furiously now. He was ducking down in his chair; Tommy, seeing this, grinned and pulled him back up by the collar of his jacket. Shooting Tommy a dark look, Eric sat back up; a bland expression on his face.

"This assembly is, in part," said Dean McMasters, kindly, "convened to honour this young man for the bravery, determination, integrity, compassion, resourcefulness and fortitude he displayed during this situation. This young man has demonstrated all the traits we here at the Ceaderville Academy attempt to impart to you. Gentlemen, please join me in a round of applause for Master Eric Williamson."

The applause started slowly, then rose to a thunderous roar as Eric was forced to stand up by Tommy. Standing there; a shy smile on his face, blushing even moreso now, he bowed his way around the room. When the other boys saw this, they started cheering and whistling, too. Finally Eric sat down again, slowly, feeling that he really didn't deserve all this adulation.

Tommy, on the other hand, was gripping his shoulder in a tight bearhug, following this with a friendly punch to his arm. He was grinning, widely, for he still owed Eric much. Eric, seeing the look on Tommy's face, gave him a shove, then told him, sotto voce, "Okay; OKAY! Knock it off! Sheesh! You'd think I'd saved the President's life or something!"

The sound of the gavel being banged brought the boys back to order in no time at all. Seeing he had their attention again Dean McMasters said "What Eric Williamson and Tommy Lindstrom went through is not the norm. I am pleased to note the Authorities involved in this situation have decreed that there is to be no further action taken against Mr. Lindstrom, save for supervision. Tommy's family will remain together; something that Eric was determined to cause. Congratulations, once again, Eric and Tommy."

The applause was even more thunderous this time; both boys, with impudent grins on their faces, looked at each other, then stood up as one. They held each other's hands up in a token of victory; this engendered more raucous applause from the boys. The banging of the gavel brought them to order again. Eric and Tommy sat down; smiles a mile wide on their faces.

"Gentlemen, please!" said Dean McMasters. As silence descended, Dean McMasters looked at Eric and Tommy, then said, "Now, on to other business. It is my pleasure to announce that Mr. Erickson will be joining the Administration Section full-time. He will be leaving his classes to assume the title of Vice HeadMaster of Ceaderville Academy. Mr. Erickson will also be retaining his duties as the Dean of Corrections." (Groans were heard from a few portions of the audience, but were quickly hushed.) Turning to Mr. Erickson, Dean McMasters invited him to join him at the podium.

When Mr. Erickson was in position by the podium, Dean McMasters took up the new mantle that would replace the present one he wore. Mr. Erickson ducked his head to have the mantle placed, then raised up his head. His smile was infectious, for soon all the boys were smiling, too. Dean McMasters gestured him to the podium to address the students. Shaking the Dean's hand, he stood in front of the podium, waiting for the applause to stop. Smiling, he brought the gavel down -- once. Then he spoke as silence and order were restored.

"I would like to thank Dean McMasters," Mr. Erickson said, "for the trust and confidence he shows in my abilities. I will serve this Academy and you boys as I have done in the past: to the best of my ability." Then, with a mock-serious look on his face, he said "While my new duties preclude me from active participation in teaching, I will be taking care of a few of you boys who need special attention -- of both types!" (More groans in the background -- quickly stifled.) "One more thing before I quit the podium, boys. I want you all to realize that this elevation changes nothing in my relations with you. I want to impress on you boys that if there is a problem in your life; a situation that any of you boys cannot deal with, my door shall always be open to you, day or night."

With a nod, he shook Dean McMaster's hand, then made his way back to his seat to the accompaniment of a standing ovation from the boys. Turning about, he waved to the boys, then took his seat; a smile on his face as he sat.

Dean McMasters resumed his place at the podium, then he said, "I know some of you boys will miss attending class with Mr. Erickson. Believe me; it was a hard decision to come to. I believe; however, that the school can only benefit from this change. A pro pos of change, I now will take this time to introduce the new History Instructor. Gentlemen, please join me in welcoming Mr. Jonathan Eric Oglethorpe." He gestured to the man who sat on his left on the stage to join him at the podium.

As Mr. Oglethorpe rose and walked to stand by Dean McMaster's side, the boys gave him a more restrained version of the applause that had sounded before. Once at the Dean's side, he smiled, thinly, at the assembled boys, then shook the Dean's hand. Dean McMasters gestured for Mr. Oglethorpe to say a few words; he then approached the microphone. Clearing his throat he began to speak in a thin raspy voice; a thick British accent was noticed by the boys.

"Good morning, young sirs," he said; not quite sneering, but with a faint tone of displeasure in his voice. "As Dean McMasters has said already, my name is Mr. Jonathan Eric Oglethorpe. I have been invited to instruct here at Ceaderville Academy by the faculty; something I look forward to doing."

Shifting his stance to one of a more dominant type, he grasped the podium and said "I have taught in boy's schools in England for the past fifteen years. I had been wanting to come to America to teach for many years. Now that I am here, I shall do my best by each and every one of you boys in my classes. With time, I believe that you and I will come to share the same relationship you enjoyed with Mr. Erickson. Finally, young sirs, I want you to understand that I am a strict man; fair, but strict. I will demand the highest standards from you in your school performance. The rest we shall discover together. Thank you for your kind attention."

Eric looked at Tommy nervously as the same muted applause followed Mr. Oglethorpe back to his chair. The boy's action was emulated by many other boys in the audience; all wondering what this new instructor would actually be like when alone with them in the classroom. Tommy just looked at Eric; an "I told you so!" look on his face. Eric nodded grimly, then they both turned their attention back to the stage.

"Now, gentlemen," Dean McMasters said, "we have arranged for a special treat for you this morning." The boys were attentive; this was not usually what happened at Morning assembly. "Even though Career Day is still several months away," he continued, "we are privileged to have with us today a very distinguished visitor. We have prevailed upon him to come and speak with you boys today; he was rather reticent in agreeing at first. He is here; however, to speak and to answer any questions you might have of him."

"Gentlemen," he said, turning to stage left, "please join me in giving a Ceaderville Academy welcome to Lieutenant Martin T. Lindstrom, United States Navy." He started to applaud; soon he was joined by the rest of the boys.

Marty Lindstrom, in full dress naval uniform; his white hat tucked under his left arm, came out from the wings of the stage to join Dean McMasters at the podium. The smile on his face was warm; echoed in his eyes as he marched crisply across the stage.

Tommy, of course, was first shocked by his brother's appearance. He could only sit there in complete surprise as he watched his brother cross the stage. Eric, seeing the look on Tommy's face, couldn't resist saying with a chuckle "It's good you brought your other clothes with you, Tommy! This way no one will ever know about the load I think you just dropped into your pants!"

Giving Eric a warning look he returned, "Hey, Eric! It isn't every day your own brother comes to your school! I think it's great! Also, Eric; I -- did not -- mess my pants, thank you!" Then grinning, they both stood up to give a shout and whistle to their brother; all the time clapping their hands thunderously. The boys didn't notice until it was too late that they were the only ones doing this.

Marty, on the other hand, noticed his brother Tommy sitting with his new "adopted" little brother Eric. He smiled as he shook hands with Dean McMasters, then stepped to the microphone and said in a mock-stern tone "All right, little brothers! As you were!" When he said this, the rest of the boys broke out with more applause and large hoots of laughter at Tommy and Eric's expense.

They now realized that they were the only ones standing and applauding. A stricken look on both boy's faces, they blushed, then with a chagrined look on their face, they slowly took their seats. Eric gave him an affectionate punch to his shoulder, then muttered "You still think you don't need to change your pants, `little brother'?" Pushing Eric away in a friendly shove, he muttered back to Eric "Just you wait, `big brother'! We'll see who has to change who's pants after assembly is done!"

They turned back to the stage and noticed that Mr. Erickson was looking in their direction; the look on his face was unmistakable. Both boys were uncomfortable now; for they were fairly sure that they would be told to see Mr. Erickson after assembly. Glancing at each other, nervously, they then assumed attentive looks on their faces and faced the stage. Out of the side of his mouth, Eric muttered to Tommy "It looks as if we'll both be needing a change in our pants!" Tommy just nodded slightly in return.

Dean McMasters said to the now quiet audience of boys, "The raucous outburst notwithstanding LT. Lindstrom, I want to thank you for taking some of your precious leave time to come and be with us today." He shook Marty's hand, then said "By way of further introduction, boys, LT. Lindstrom is not only the older brother of Tommy Lindstrom, he also is presently serving in the aircraft carrier `USS Enterprise' as the Third Air Operations Officer. He is also a qualified naval aviator as well as a civilian pilot. LT. Lindstrom has served in the United States Navy for eight years now; having been to many places in the world. Ergo, with no further ado, I present to you LT. Lindstrom."

"Thank you, Dean McMasters," said Marty crisply, then shook his hand. He turned back to the podium as the Dean took his seat to the podium's right. He held up his hands to quiet the boys, then smiled and said "Thank you, too, boys, for your generous welcome. I must admit that I really wasn't prepared for an invitation such as this. I had to make a quick trip to Great Lakes Naval Base to get myself a new uniform! Anyway, I am pleased to be here today; to be able to answer any questions you might have of me about the Navy. The floor is open."

One of the boys rose from his seat; was called upon, then he said politely "LT. Lindstrom, my name is Henry Robertson. I think it might be better for us if you just told us a bit about yourself first. Would you mind, please, Sir?"

Marty chuckled at that, then replied "Well, Henry; that's a mighty tall request. I'll try my best though. Here goes!" Taking the microphone out of it's holder Marty came to the edge of the stage; walking down the stairs to be on the floor with the boys. As he spoke, he roamed the entire floor, missing nothing and no one.

Marty then went on to tell the boys of how he'd left Ceaderville when he was eighteen years old. He spoke of his enlistment in the Navy, rising to the enlisted rank of Petty Officer 1st Class before being selected for Officer's Training School. He then went on to tell them of how hard he'd worked to get his college degree; studying until all hours of the night; taking as many classes he could while on sea duty. He told them of the other officers who had noted his interest; saw that he was already a qualified pilot. They prevailed upon the captain of his ship to endorse his selection request for OTS; Officer's Training School. The captain was no stranger to the then PO1 Lindstrom; he knew that here was a young man who could only enhance the service, and himself, by being promoted to the Officer Corps. His selection complete, Marty told them of OTS; the hard work and long hours required and the dedication to his dream it cost him. He finished up telling the boys of the two ships he'd served in; of the duties and responsibilities he had, of how he was happy of the choice he made for his life's work.

Not a sound could be heard in the Hall save for Marty speaking. Tommy sat in his chair; his chest puffed up with pride in his brother. He looked around himself at the other boys; saw how they were hanging on every word Marty spoke. Smiling, he looked over at Eric to see that he was sitting in the same manner: arms folded across his chest; pride and love for Marty showing on his face. Tommy nudged Eric; Eric looked at Tommy, then they both smiled at each other, then turned back to the stage.

For the next half-hour, Marty answered the boy's questions. He had expected some to be of an anti-military nature; those were very few though. For the most part, the boys asked Marty of the places he'd seen; the work he'd done; the different aircraft he was qualified to fly. They all listened to him as he described life aboard a naval vessel. They finally understood that life in a navy vessel; especially one the size of "Enterprise", was not all that different from living in a large city. When the questions finally ran out, Marty again thanked the boys for their attention. He also said that he was looking forward to meeting as many of them as he could while he was there.

Dean McMasters then came to the podium, starting the applause that shook the room as Marty shook hands with the Dean. Giving a wave, he then left the stage. Dean McMasters banged the gavel, then said "I am pleased to tell you boys that LT. Lindstrom will be remaining on campus for a short while after Morning assembly. Those of you boys who wish may seek him out and talk with him privately."

Mr. Erickson came over to the podium, spoke briefly with the Dean, then resumed his place on the stage. Dean McMasters nodded, then said "Thank you boys for your attention this morning. Our Chaplain will close assembly; however, before he does, I would advise Master Williamson and Master Lindstrom that they are required to report to Mr. Erickson's office after assembly. Gentlemen, Chaplain Pastor Ingerson."

As the boys rose, Eric and Tommy knew that they were in trouble. As they bowed their heads, they not only echoed the prayer given by Pastor Ingerson; they prayed that they wouldn't wind up getting spanked for their actions during assembly. The final bang of the gavel released the boys from their seats to go to their next class.

As Tommy and Eric filed out with the other boys, a few came over to them and said they hoped they wouldn't wind up getting spanked. "Heck," said Henry, disgustedly. "Mr. Erickson just has to understand about the situation. It's not every day your brother comes home from the Navy to speak at your school. I just hope Mr. Erickson isn't too hard on you; I -- still -- remember my last time with him!" Giving Eric and Tommy a clap on their shoulders, he wished them well, then shouldered his backpack and went on to his class. The other boys did much the same thing; then left for their own classes. Looking grimly at each other, Eric and Tommy made their way to Mr. Erickson's office.

Mr. Erickson's secretary saw their slow approach; stifling a smile, she lifted up the phone to let Mr. Erickson know the boys were almost there. She was instructed to send the boys in straightaway! Nodding, she hung up the phone as the boys approached her desk. Her smile was not a mean one; she just indicated to the boys that they could go right in to the office. Nodding to her glumly, they thanked her and stopped outside the door. Giving each other a final glance, they sighed and pushed open the door. Once inside, they then closed the door behind them and walked to Mr. Erickson's desk.

Mr. Erickson was seated in his chair with his hands steepled in front of him; a grim look on his face. They also saw his ever famous "Board of Education" prominently displayed in the centre of his desk. As they approached, they did not notice the other person in the office; their eyes were riveted on the paddle. They could already feel themselves being bent over his desk to receive their punishment for their disturbance during assembly. Tommy and Eric were also thinking about the punishment they would receive when they got home for getting spanked in school. Arriving at the front of Mr. Erickson's desk, they stood up straight, dropping their backpacks to the floor beside them. The look on their young faces was one of resolve to take their punishment without a sound.

"I must say, boys," said Mr. Erickson, softly, "that I am very disappointed with your conduct during this morning's assembly." Taking his hands down from his face, he sat up and pulled up to his desk. He fixed both boys to their places with a stern look, then said "I want to make sure that you boys understand why you are to be punished. You are familiar with the Rules of Conduct during Morning assembly, are you not?"

"Yes, Sir," the boys replied quickly. "We know the Rules, Sir."

Nodding, he then said "You also must realize the consequences for your actions this morning. Am I correct?"

"Yes, Sir," they replied glumly, now blushing furiously at the thought of being paddled.

Mr. Erickson got up from his chair, then turned to face the large picture window behind his desk. He then said, conversationally, "I realize that there were extenuating; even mitigating circumstances that prompted your actions, boys. I can understand and would normally excuse such behavior. Unfortunately, you boys have put me into a bad situation. I want to excuse you boys from punishment; however, that would not be good for discipline as far as the rest of the school is concerned."

Turning back to the now sweating boys, he said, softly, "You boys do understand the dilemma you have put me in, don't you? You can appreciate the fact that, my feelings for you boys notwithstanding, I am forced to administer this punishment?"

Looking at each other, Tommy nodded to Eric. Eric put his hand on his friend's arm in a quick affectionate squeeze, then he faced Mr. Erickson. "We understand, Sir." The boys then took off their school blazers, then emptied their back pockets. Eric then said, "We were carried away by seeing Marty;.........er......., LT. Lindstrom appear on stage, Sir. Our demonstration this morning was nothing more than one of love for our brother; that's all, Sir."

Placing their blazers with their wallets and combs inside them on the desk, they stood there with their hands at their sides, waiting for the command to bend over the desk. Neither of the boys said anything further; just waited for the spanking that was to come.

"If I may, Mr. Erickson," said a voice behind the boys.

Both Tommy and Eric jumped in surprise; they turned to see Marty, still in uniform, approaching from where he had stood at the back of the office. Their hearts fell to the bottom of their shoes as they saw the firm look on his face. As Marty approached Mr. Erickson, the boys turned back to their original position facing Mr. Erickson. Now there was the added embarrassment of having Marty present for their whipping. With their faces looking as if they'd been carved from stone, the boys waited for what was next to come.

"Yes, LT. Lindstrom." said Mr. Erickson seriously. "You may now carry out the agreement we reached before these boys arrived."

Standing beside Mr. Erickson, Marty folded his massive arms across his even wider chest. He looked at the boys sternly until they both dropped their eyes. Then, bringing his left hand up to his chin, he said, consideringly, "I believe I am ready to do that, Sir. If I may, please?"

Nodding to Marty, Mr. Erickson gestured and said "Be my guest, Sir." He then went over to where the leather couch was and seated himself with great care. He poured himself a cup of tea, stirred in the sugar and creme, then sat back to watch.

"Look at me, boys," said Marty in a quiet but firm voice. When the boys looked up, he then said "Even I can understand why you behaved as you did. It made me feel good seeing you and the other boy's reaction to my being there. However, Mr. Erickson informed me that you two boys went a wee bit beyond the norm. So, Mr. Erickson and I talked before you two arrived. We came to an agreement."

Eric and Tommy were not certain how they should react. They were both grateful and hopeful that everything would be solved without getting the seat of their pants dusted off; that a spanking might be avoided.

"Here is the agreement," Marty intoned sternly, "and the judgment in your cases, boys."

"Yes, Sir?" said Tommy and Eric, hope now crushed.

"Mr. Erickson advised me, boys," he said quietly, "an infraction such as this would have required you both to be spanked, in front of the entire school body, on the seat of your underpants. He also advised me that twelve strokes was the usual punishment for an infraction such as this."

"Yes, Sir," the boys replied softly; tears now starting to come in their eyes.

"Very well, boys," said Marty, taking the paddle in his own strong hand. "One thing more before we begin. My service in the Navy has taught me that discipline must be maintained. Cases such as this should be reviewed on a case-by-case basis. Yours has now been reviewed and Mr. Erickson has given me full authority to execute the punishment. Do you boys completely understand why you are being punished?"

The boys could only nod; then they said at his prompting look, "Yes, Sir." Then Eric said, "It doesn't make it any easier, Sir; however, we've done wrong and we're ready to receive our punishment."

"All right, Eric; Tommy," said Marty. "Here is our decision. You will both receive three swats on the seat of your pants. I will administer the punishment. After you have received your spanking, you will be required to write an essay of 1,000 words as to why your conduct was not acceptable. In it, you will also include an apology to the Faculty, Staff and the rest of the Students for your conduct. This essay will be on Mr. Erickson's desk no later than two days from today. Do you boys understand and agree to all portions of this punishment?"

Tommy and Eric were both silently weeping now; the tears of shame slowly made their way down their young faces. They both felt lower than dirt at the situation they were in; not to mention that they would be punished by Marty! What else could they do, though? They nodded their agreement, then said in small tight voices, "Yes, Sir."

"Very well, boys.", he said grimly. He went around the desk, then approached the boys. Taking Tommy first, he checked the back pockets of his trousers, then laid him gently over the desk. Turning to Eric, he did the same, checking the seat of his pants, then gently but firmly put him across the desk.

The boys were now in position, side-by-side, waiting for the first swat nervously. "Hold your arms out in front of you boys," said Marty firmly, "then clasp you hands together. Stay in that position until I tell you to stand." The boys did as they were instructed; then they closed their eyes.

Marty then looked over to Mr. Erickson; who nodded then raised his tea cup in salute. Nodding back to him, Marty then turned to look at the slender figures before him. He then brought the paddle up; with great force brought it down squarely on the seat of the boy's pants. Tommy and Eric squeezed their eyes shut at the pain they felt coursing through their bottoms. They didn't cry out in pain; they only said in strangled voices "One, Sir!"

"Very well, boys," said Marty firmly. He then brought the paddle up again; in a few short moments it was completing it's deadly arc, landing on the boy's now very sore bottoms. The tears now coming freely, they both said "Two, Sir!"

Marty then told the boys he did not like the fact that he was doing this to his little brothers. It was the only way to save them the humiliation of taking twelve on their underpants in front of the other boys. He then said that he did believe that discipline must be maintained; that he hoped the boys would learn their lesson. Finally, he told them to prepare for the last stroke.

Just as Tommy thought it would be delivered he was roughly jostled by someone. It was Eric, shaking him, then saying "Tommy?? Are you okay?? You kinda passed out for a moment. C'mon; assembly is almost over. Get on your feet!"

It was then that Tommy realized it had all been something of a "daymare"; like a nightmare, only in the daytime. He saw his brother Marty on the stage shaking hands with the Dean, then waving to the boys as he left. Hurriedly, he shot to his feet to applaud his brother, hoping and praying that it truly would only be a dream!

The final invocation was made by the Pastor, then the gavel banged signaling their release. All the boys stood, then grabbed their backpacks, shouldered them, then started to file out of the Main Hall. Tommy was still not believing it was all a dream; rubbing the seat of his trousers brought no pain or relief. Shrugging his shoulders, he followed Eric out of the Hall and onto their next class.

On the way to their class; Computer Science, Eric looked at Tommy concernedly. Then he said, "What happened back there, Tommy? You faded out on me; kept saying `Yes,Sir' and `I understand, Sir; so does Eric.' You kept getting paler and paler; heck you even started to cry! All this while your own brother was on stage. Tell me, Tommy, what's up with you?"

Looking at his friend with a rueful look on his face; his hand on the doorknob, he replied "Big brother, you really don't want to know. I'm not going to share this nightmare with you; it might just come true!" Then he went into the classroom; a mystified Eric slowly following him.

They both took their places at their respective work stations and got immediately to work. Eric had finished his assignment quickly; then immediately pushed his chair closer to Tommy to give him a hand with the assignment.

Mr. Northstrom was monitoring their work from his station. He smiled as Eric was able to show Tommy where he had made his mistake in the programme on which he was working. Looking up, he saw their tousled heads bent close to the monitor in complete concentration. He saw Tommy's grateful reaction to Eric's timely help; with a satisfied chuckle, he returned to his own work.

While he worked, Mr. Northstrom felt Glad that Eric had found such a friend. He was even more satisfied with how Tommy had taken so readily to working with computers. With Eric's ready tutelage, Tommy was making great strides in catching up with the rest of the class. Both boys were well on their way to becoming his best students. He had promised himself that he would provide them with a special commendation to the Dean at end-of-term. Chuckling to himself, he thought, "Should the boys continue to proceed at the pace they'd set for themselves, I'd better get working on that commendation!"

It was then he noticed that there was an in-coming message for him on his terminal. Raising his eyebrow, he activated the programme that would let him read the message. He read the message; pointed the mouse on the "Reply" button, then typed out a reply. The message complete, he sent it to it's destination. With a grim look, he returned to his work just as the end of period bell sounded.

Tommy and Eric had quickly resumed their blazers and straightened their ties. Then they got up to go to their next class; Eric still talking with Tommy about his work. As they approached the door, they heard Mr. Northstrom calling them to come over to his work station. Curiously, both boys made their way to stand before Mr. Northstrom.

"Boys," he said, "I received a message for you during class. You boys are to report to Mr. Erickson's office instead of going to your next class."

Tommy yelped; paled, then almost passed out in front of them. Eric, yelling in surprise, caught Tommy before he could fall to the floor. He helped his friend over to a chair while Mr. Northstrom got him a glass of cold water. Eric gave Tommy a sip of the water; his every action speaking of the concern he felt for Tommy. With a grateful nod, Tommy took a sip of the water; grimaced, then set the glass down on the table.

Mr. Northstrom had been on the telephone while Eric was tending to Tommy. Shortly thereafter, a concerned Mr. Erickson followed by an even more concerned Marty stormed into the classroom. When Tommy saw who it was, he let out a cry, then jumped into his brother's arms. In a small voice Tommy pleaded with Marty not to spank him and Eric; they hadn't meant to cause a disturbance in assembly; they'd behave from now on; no questions asked!

Tommy was still sobbing in his brother's arms; Marty still not able to calm him down to make sense of what he'd said. The rest were just trying to comprehend what the heck Tommy was talking about; what he meant about a "disturbance"? Mr. Northstrom looked up to see the students for the next class begin to come in; he motioned them to wait in the hall until he called them into the class.

Marty had gotten into a chair; his brother now resting on his knee. He still had his head buried in his brother's chest, crying softly. Marty just stroked his head, telling him to calm down and tell him what was the matter. Tommy just held onto him tighter, saying that he and Eric hadn't meant to be bad. Marty finally got him calmed down, then Mr. Erickson suggested that they continue this conversation in his office. At the mention of Mr. Erickson's office, Tommy blanched. He offered no resistance as Marty got him on his feet and started him walking; he would not release his hold on Marty though.

Once in Mr. Erickson's office, he directed them to take seats on the couch and in the leather chairs. He then signaled his secretary, asking if she would please bring in some refreshments for them. He turned back to see Tommy sitting beside his brother, firmly under his arm; the worried look still hadn't left his face. Eric was sitting in the chair at the end of the couch; his face echoing the concerned look on his and Marty's face. Resolutely, he came from behind his desk and took the chair at the opposite end. He then asked Tommy to explain himself.

In a hitching voice, he slowly told them of the dream he'd had in assembly. He told them of seeing the look on Mr. Erickson's face; what it meant to him. Though Tommy was not blessed with an eidetic memory as Eric was, he still was able to relate the events most vividly. Coming to the point about Marty coming around to punish them on the seat of their pants, Marty just shook his head sadly; tightening the hold he had on his little brother.

Mr. Erickson was concerned at what Tommy had told them. He had meant the look he gave the boys to do exactly as it did: to quiet them down and make them behave as young gentlemen should. He did not mean it to fill them with terror! With a sigh, he told the boys the very same thing. He also told Tommy that he was sorry that Tommy had felt that way. Then he asked Tommy that if he had felt this way, why didn't he come to him and tell him so?

Tommy just shrugged; a despairing look on his face. He told them he was sorry for causing all this fuss; he hadn't meant to cause all this disturbance. Then, Tommy's thirteen-year old pride came into play. He told them that it wasn't the spanking he was concerned about; it was that his own brother was to be the one to punish them. He then slumped in his brother's arms, totally expended.

Eric, ever the honourable one, then mentioned that they had caused a disturbance during assembly. Shaking his head, for he knew that he was probably talking him and Tommy into a spanking, he then related to Marty the original incident. Looking sadly at Mr. Erickson, he slowly stood up and started to take off his blazer.

With a look of surprise, Mr. Erickson said "There will be no need for that, Eric. There was no disturbance. As far as I could see, it was only a natural reaction from a brother and a friend for someone they loved. Put your blazer back on, right now, young man."

Eric shrugged back into his blazer; a frown on his face as he sat back down in the chair. He commented that, while he didn't really like to think about getting a spanking, there was still a debt that wasn't resolved.

Tommy, on the other hand, looked at Eric and said, "Eric, will you -- please -- just shut up!!?? Just say thank you and have done, okay? Do I have to pull all the hair out of your head again as I did before??"

Mr. Erickson looked at Tommy, then burst out laughing. He remembered the actions that had accompanied Tommy making Eric agree to a similar situation. Calming down, he explained to Marty why he had laughed. Finished with the explanation, Marty, too, burst out laughing; waggling his finger at Eric.

Eric just sat there; he was in a moral conflict with himself. He still believed if you did wrong, you should pay for your mistake. "Forgiveness does not stay punishment.", his father had always told him. On the other hand he was trying to accept the reprieve being offered. He just wasn't able to reconcile the two.

Sensing this, Mr. Erickson went over to Eric. He seated himself on the coffee table so that he could look directly into Eric's eyes. Then he said "Eric, my boy, you have a wonderful sense of honour; something that I haven't seen in a boy in many, many years of teaching. Your dedication to your ideas and ideals is nothing short of astounding, Eric; however, you seem to be taking them to a limit that is not healthy."

"What do you mean, Sir?", asked Eric confusedly.

Mr. Erickson then went on to explain, patiently, what he meant. Eric was being very good in admitting fault; in taking responsibility for his actions. While this was a commendable trait, there were times when he should not be so insistent on repaying a debt. He should learn to accept a gift, gracefully; not to insist on only one course of action.

Sitting there, Eric listened intently to what Mr. Erickson said to him. He was still struggling in side himself; the resolution not quite made. He looked at Mr. Erickson; then, despairingly, "I'm trying, Sir! It still just doesn't feel right to me. I'm sorry."

Nodding, Mr. Erickson let out a sigh; then said, disappointedly, "All right, Eric. If this is the only solution you know, my boy, then we shall play by your rules." He took Eric by the hand, stood him up, then lead him over to his desk.

"Since you only know of one way, Eric," he said, firmly, taking Eric's blazer off of him, "then you shall receive the punishment you seem to think you deserve."

Mr. Erickson then gently folded the jacket and placed it on the desk beside Eric. Moving behind Eric, he flipped up the patch on the left back pocket of his Levi's "Dockers", swiftly removing his wallet and tossing it on the jacket. He then un-buttoned the right back pocket and took out Eric's comb; he tossed that by the wallet. Frisking the seat of Eric's pants, ensuring that there was nothing left, he gently but firmly bent Eric over his desk.

Eric was thinking furiously now. He didn't want to get a spanking; no, not at all! His own sense of honour and self-preservation warring within him didn't help the situation. He looked over his shoulder to see Tommy sitting there; his face almost completely white. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he looked out the window in front of him; no help there!

Now Mr. Erickson was positioned behind him with his paddle. Raising it into position, he said, grimly, "It is your choice, Eric. I offer you a reprieve or a spanking. You tell me, Eric; what should I do?"

Eric was still thinking hard when he heard a sound behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Tommy; a firm resolved look on his face. He stopped before Mr. Erickson, then said, "Wait a moment, Mr. Erickson. It'll only take me a moment to get ready, Sir."

Then Eric watched in horror as Tommy calmly took off is blazer, folded it, then put it next to Eric's. He then took his wallet and comb out of the rear pockets of the grey flannel trousers he wore. Tossing them on his blazer, he presented his rear for Mr. Erickson to check. Mr. Erickson patted the seat of his pants; then motioned Tommy to get over the desk. Tommy nudged Eric, gently, to the side then lay next to his friend.

Marty thought this had gone too far! While he appreciated Eric's sense of honour, he didn't feel that Tommy had to abide by this. He shot off the couch and was making his way over to Tommy when Mr. Erickson stopped him. He nodded his head; shaking it in "no". He then mouthed the words "I'm not going to spank them."

Looking back to the boys, Mr. Erickson said gently, "Well, Eric? Now your friend wants to share your fate. Is it right and just that he should bear your punishment, too?"

Eric was now almost sick to his stomach. He couldn't let Tommy get involved like this! "No, Tommy!", he said firmly. "I don't want you to get a spanking over what I believe. Get up; get your things back in your pockets and get your blazer on!"

Tommy looked over at Eric; he then said in a quiet, firm voice "If my adopted big brother feels that this is what should happen, then so be it. Besides, Mr. Erickson; in my dream we both got a spanking." Tommy looked over his shoulder at Mr. Erickson, still standing with the paddle raised. "So, Mr. Erickson, unless Eric feels differently, I guess we're both going to our next class with sore bottoms." He looked into Eric's eyes, then said "I believe in you, big brother. I know you're going to make the right choice." He then turned his head, closed his eyes, waiting for the first swat. Eric had almost made up his mind when he heard Marty talking to him.

"Eric; little brother," he said, quietly, "you can take it from me that honour is not compromised with what Mr. Erickson has offered you. This is, Eric, just one of the many grey areas you will have to learn to deal with in life."

"Well, Eric?", said Mr. Erickson softly. "I won't ask you again, son. Tell me, right now, what I am to do."