At school they had not been close friends. James was great at sport, a football star and a rower, while David, though not against sport, didn't excel and preferred a quieter life.
James was, as a sportsman, well built but not over tall. David while not a wimp was, well, slender.
Neither was quite sure how they got together. Just there was an attraction that neither teenage boy could really explain.
It was after their last school exams that they got talking and discovered that though they didn't have anything against Uni, they wanted to try the great world first.
"Why don't we try something together?" said James, "you've got the brains, I've got the brawn. That should make a fairly good combination."
"Do you really think that I'm brainy?"
"Of course, you silly twit. I've admired you for years!"
"Heck, you are the one that I've admired. My hero in the first rowing eights and the footy... But what do you think we can do?"
"Well you're the thinker, but I thought what this town needs is a courier service."
And that is what they began. David had asked his Dad about it. David's Dad was enthusiastic.
"But a word from the wise, son. Partnerships are a fragile thing. Inevitably there will be arguments, it's like a marriage. You need to work out a way of resolving any troubles between yourselves, before they happen, otherwise the whole thing could end up a disaster."
David told James about his Dad's concern.
"That's easily fixed," said James "we agree that if either of us goes off the rails, we get a good kick up the backside!"
David laughed, "I can see me doing that to you!"
"No," said James "I really mean it. At school we got the cuts for getting out of line. That worked pretty well. Why don't we agree on a quick sharp lesson for anything we do wrong and then get on with the job?"
David tried to remain serious about this prospect, but he felt a strange excitement. Getting the cane or beaten across the backside with a sandshoe or dancing pump at school had been a fairly regular event, although he suspected that James had faced up (or in fact, backed up) to the cane more often than he had.
"OK, that sounds pretty reasonable to me."
"Then we agree," said James, ""that any dispute or agro we have will be settled that way, and nothing more said."
"Agreed" said David.
With the guarantee of both their parents, plus a small legacy from David's Aunt Monica, they bought a van, set up premises in a vacant shop, just off the main street, with a small two bedroom apartment above it, and started to contract customers in that middle sized town on the Australian south eastern coast.
One weekend, looking a bit farther a field for business, they called into a small town, population 123, in the hinterland. David had thought, that because they had no bank there, there may be some business, and they called into the little old general store.
James was fascinated, old lanterns and primus stoves, the sort of things that you would never see in a store in town, and, in a corner, a selection of dusters, the old sort with a lambswool duster, attached to a stout rattan cane.
"Hey David," he called, "just what we needed!"
David blushed, but James took one up to the old man at the counter.
"How much is this?"
The old man looked James and David over.
"Very nice," he said, "but perhaps you might like to see my other dusters. People around here have tall ceilings and prefer my longer ones to get at the cobwebs."
He left and came back with a duster with a full metre of rattan attached.
"We are pretty traditional around here, and people like things that can have a variety of uses. This is one of my most popular items." He smiled slyly. "We don't have much trouble with the young folks around here."
James bought the duster.
"You know what this is for, don't you?" he said in the van on the way back to town.
"Yes" said David, for some reason nervous and shaking, though he wanted to hide this from James.
"We will keep it in the office cupboard. What will we call it?"
"Our friend Fred?"
"Done."
Business, if not brilliant, was good, and David and James were paying their way. David looked after the office while James did most of the driving. However, as David's Dad had predicted, the inevitable happened.
James, still into footy, spent the night out with his drunken mates and missed a delivery for one of their best customers.
David was furious.
"You could have told me. I could have done the delivery!"
James looked carefully at David. "I'm sorry mate. It won't happen again. Shall I talk to our friend Fred?"
David was confused. "I suppose so, but I don't know what to do."
"That's OK, mate. I will fix it."
He went to the office cupboard and took out Fred who had been quietly waiting for him. He handed Fred to David.
"What am I supposed to do?" asked David.
"What comes naturally." said James. "At school, we used to get six. But because we are now adults I think 12 would be appropriate."
He moved a chair to the centre of the room and without asking and with his back turned, dropped his jeans and underpants and, bending over the back of the chair, said
"OK, get on with it mate."
David held back. He was confused, and in some way excited. Here in front of him was his hero, his backside, beautiful and bare, waiting for him to beat it with an long rattan cane. He understood that this was an agreement, but for some reason his _c_o_c_k_ was starting to rise. He carefully tucked it back and swished Fred in the air.
He had never caned anyone before but felt he knew the technique and with a heavy swing laid a stripe midway across James' bare white buttocks.
"Oh, _s_h_i_t_ that hurt!" said James.
David was suddenly enjoying himself.
"More to come. Keep down or you will get extra."
"Yes, thank you David. This is the right thing for me."
Five times more David crashed the cane across the naked arse.
And James said, "please David, I didn't realise that it would hurt so much. Can we leave the rest to later?"
David smiled to himself. Why not extend this? "Sure, we will finish it of after work this afternoon."
James got up and pulled up his underwear and jeans without turning around. It seemed to David that he was taking extra care doing it. James took friend Fred and returned him to the cupboard.
"I'll go and do those jobs now" said James " and I will be back here this afternoon when you have finished the banking."
After James left, David couldn't concentrate. Instead of the spreadsheet on the computer, all he could see were the six red stripes he had laid across his hero's backside. He closed the curtains, opened his fly and wanked his _c_o_c_k_ that had been straining for relief.
But business was business and David did the banking. As he walked back to their office he saw that the van was already parked outside.
Inside he found James.
Already. Bent over the chair. Jeans and underpants around his ankles and friend Fred waiting on David's desk.
"G'day mate, may I please have the rest of my punishment?"
David looked at the weals on that beautiful bum, not actually painted red stripes but each cut red with a raised angry welt on each side. This was going to hurt.
"Yes, my friend. This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you!"
"Hah, never a truer word, David. Remember that! Get going!"
And David did as he was told with his _c_o_c_k_ grew stronger with every stoke.
to be continued................ At school they had not been close friends. James was great at sport, a football star and a rower, while David, though not against sport, didn't excel and preferred a quieter life.
James was, as a sportsman, well built but not over tall. David while not a wimp was, well, slender.
Neither was quite sure how they got together. Just there was an attraction that neither teenage boy could really explain.
It was after their last school exams that they got talking and discovered that though they didn't have anything against Uni, they wanted to try the great world first.
"Why don't we try something together?" said James, "you've got the brains, I've got the brawn. That should make a fairly good combination."
"Do you really think that I'm brainy?"
"Of course, you silly twit. I've admired you for years!"
"Heck, you are the one that I've admired. My hero in the first rowing eights and the footy... But what do you think we can do?"
"Well you're the thinker, but I thought what this town needs is a courier service."
And that is what they began. David had asked his Dad about it. David's Dad was enthusiastic.
"But a word from the wise, son. Partnerships are a fragile thing. Inevitably there will be arguments, it's like a marriage. You need to work out a way of resolving any troubles between yourselves, before they happen, otherwise the whole thing could end up a disaster."
David told James about his Dad's concern.
"That's easily fixed," said James "we agree that if either of us goes off the rails, we get a good kick up the backside!"
David laughed, "I can see me doing that to you!"
"No," said James "I really mean it. At school we got the cuts for getting out of line. That worked pretty well. Why don't we agree on a quick sharp lesson for anything we do wrong and then get on with the job?"
David tried to remain serious about this prospect, but he felt a strange excitement. Getting the cane or beaten across the backside with a sandshoe or dancing pump at school had been a fairly regular event, although he suspected that James had faced up (or in fact, backed up) to the cane more often than he had.
"OK, that sounds pretty reasonable to me."
"Then we agree," said James, ""that any dispute or agro we have will be settled that way, and nothing more said."
"Agreed" said David.
With the guarantee of both their parents, plus a small legacy from David's Aunt Monica, they bought a van, set up premises in a vacant shop, just off the main street, with a small two bedroom apartment above it, and started to contract customers in that middle sized town on the Australian south eastern coast.
One weekend, looking a bit farther a field for business, they called into a small town, population 123, in the hinterland. David had thought, that because they had no bank there, there may be some business, and they called into the little old general store.
James was fascinated, old lanterns and primus stoves, the sort of things that you would never see in a store in town, and, in a corner, a selection of dusters, the old sort with a lambswool duster, attached to a stout rattan cane.
"Hey David," he called, "just what we needed!"
David blushed, but James took one up to the old man at the counter.
"How much is this?"
The old man looked James and David over.
"Very nice," he said, "but perhaps you might like to see my other dusters. People around here have tall ceilings and prefer my longer ones to get at the cobwebs."
He left and came back with a duster with a full metre of rattan attached.
"We are pretty traditional around here, and people like things that can have a variety of uses. This is one of my most popular items." He smiled slyly. "We don't have much trouble with the young folks around here."
James bought the duster.
"You know what this is for, don't you?" he said in the van on the way back to town.
"Yes" said David, for some reason nervous and shaking, though he wanted to hide this from James.
"We will keep it in the office cupboard. What will we call it?"
"Our friend Fred?"
"Done."
Business, if not brilliant, was good, and David and James were paying their way. David looked after the office while James did most of the driving. However, as David's Dad had predicted, the inevitable happened.
James, still into footy, spent the night out with his drunken mates and missed a delivery for one of their best customers.
David was furious.
"You could have told me. I could have done the delivery!"
James looked carefully at David. "I'm sorry mate. It won't happen again. Shall I talk to our friend Fred?"
David was confused. "I suppose so, but I don't know what to do."
"That's OK, mate. I will fix it."
He went to the office cupboard and took out Fred who had been quietly waiting for him. He handed Fred to David.
"What am I supposed to do?" asked David.
"What comes naturally." said James. "At school, we used to get six. But because we are now adults I think 12 would be appropriate."
He moved a chair to the centre of the room and without asking and with his back turned, dropped his jeans and underpants and, bending over the back of the chair, said
"OK, get on with it mate."
David held back. He was confused, and in some way excited. Here in front of him was his hero, his backside, beautiful and bare, waiting for him to beat it with an long rattan cane. He understood that this was an agreement, but for some reason his _c_o_c_k_ was starting to rise. He carefully tucked it back and swished Fred in the air.
He had never caned anyone before but felt he knew the technique and with a heavy swing laid a stripe midway across James' bare white buttocks.
"Oh, _s_h_i_t_ that hurt!" said James.
David was suddenly enjoying himself.
"More to come. Keep down or you will get extra."
"Yes, thank you David. This is the right thing for me."
Five times more David crashed the cane across the naked arse.
And James said, "please David, I didn't realise that it would hurt so much. Can we leave the rest to later?"
David smiled to himself. Why not extend this? "Sure, we will finish it of after work this afternoon."
James got up and pulled up his underwear and jeans without turning around. It seemed to David that he was taking extra care doing it. James took friend Fred and returned him to the cupboard.
"I'll go and do those jobs now" said James " and I will be back here this afternoon when you have finished the banking."
After James left, David couldn't concentrate. Instead of the spreadsheet on the computer, all he could see were the six red stripes he had laid across his hero's backside. He closed the curtains, opened his fly and wanked his _c_o_c_k_ that had been straining for relief.
But business was business and David did the banking. As he walked back to their office he saw that the van was already parked outside.
Inside he found James.
Already. Bent over the chair. Jeans and underpants around his ankles and friend Fred waiting on David's desk.
"G'day mate, may I please have the rest of my punishment?"
David looked at the weals on that beautiful bum, not actually painted red stripes but each cut red with a raised angry welt on each side. This was going to hurt.
"Yes, my friend. This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you!"
"Hah, never a truer word, David. Remember that! Get going!"
And David did as he was told with his _c_o_c_k_ grew stronger with every stoke.
to be continued................