Ashley Finch was eleven years old when he was suddenly struck down by a bout of rheumatic fever. The doctor sent the boy to hospital for medication and bed rest.
After the worst of the illness was over, Ashley came home to convalesce. Normally a healthy, active boy, Ashley did not take kindly to being confined to his bed. This particular day his bad behaviour drove his mother to tears.
The Finch family lived on a dairy farm in a rural part of Australia. Ashley's brother Tom was sixteen years old and helped his father run the farm. Tom was Ashley's idol. For his part, the older boy loved having a kid brother. They shared a bedroom and it was Tom who first noticed Ashley was unwell. His prompt action meant the younger boy was expected to make a full recovery.
But to return to that fateful day when Ashley upset his mother...
"How's it going, Tiger ?"
Hearing Tom's deep voice caused Ashley to look up from his comic book with a grin of delight. His big brother rested his hand on Ashley's forehead. Satisfied there was no sign of fever Tom gently tousled the boy's unruly mop of brown hair.
"You'll do", Tom said and then began changing into his pyjamas. It was still early but the youth had to be up again before dawn. Ashley watched his brother strip out of his work clothes which he placed in a neat pile ready to clamber into the next morning, with the light out so as not to waken Ashley. The younger boy looked at Tom's slack, uncut penis swinging from its nest of pubic hair and wondered if his would ever get to be that big ? Tom turned his back on the watching boy who had a good look at his brother's slender buttocks before they were covered up by his pyjamas.
Tom was pulling back the bedclothes when his father suddenly entered the room. Seth Finch was physically very fit from all the hard farm work. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up showing off bulging biceps. The expression on his face was grim.
"Ashley !" he shouted.
"Yes, Papa ?"
"Your poor mother tells me you were so rude to her today that you made her cry".
Ashley had the grace to blush deep red and hang his head.
"If it wasn't for your blessed illness you'd be over my knee right now getting your behind spanked until it matched the colour of your face".
The younger boy who hated spankings thought that at least being sick had spared him from getting a really sore bum.
"Still", his father continued, "You have to be punished. Tom will be your whipping boy".
The older boy's mouth dropped open.
"But Papa, I'm too big to spank".
"True. However, I have a three foot length of rattan with which to punish you severely for your brother's bad behaviour". He looked at both his sons. "The cane is in my workshop. I'll be back in a minute".
The brothers heard him stomp off down the hall.
"Whipping boy ?" Ashley asked Tom.
"Like that kid's film we watched on TV". The older boy explained. "Where a village boy was beaten instead of the Prince". Tom felt the cheeks of his bottom tighten at the thought of a caning. His father had whacked him once before when he was not much older than Ashley and nothing else had ever hurt so bad.
Footsteps announced the return of the boys' father, the thin rattan was grasped in his right hand.
"But Papa .." Ashley looked like he was about to cry. Tom noticed his distress and decided the last thing the convalescing boy needed was to be stressed out. 'Where's Mother?' he wondered. 'Why doesn't she put a stop to this' Then he remembered she was at her Women's Institute meeting.
"It's OK, Tiger", he said with a reassurance he did not feel. Tom slowly removed his pyjama bottoms and then knelt on the end of his bed.
The boys' father administered six powerful cuts of the cane to Tom's bare buttocks. Ashley flinched each time the thin white line left by the cane filled out into a a fat, painful-looking weal. Poor Tom's bottom-cheeks shook after each hard cut. He groaned with the pain of it and tears welled-up in his eyes.
After the beating was over, Ashley was told to feel the fiery welts which crisscrossed his brother's backside. The younger boy marvelled at the heat coming from Tom's already swollen mounds, but, most of all, he was heartbroken at having been the cause of his beloved brother's pain.
"Let that be a lesson to you, Ashley" his father said and quietly left the room. Tom got back into his pyjamas with a groan.
"I'm so sorry !" the younger boy said. Tom shushed him and gently kissed him on the forehead.
"No harm done. Go to sleep".
Tom crawled into bed and turned out the light. Ashley lay awake in the darkness and heard his brother's quiet sobbing, muffled by a pillow.
The next morning, Tom went to the kitchen where his mother was busy serving a cooked breakfast. When he sat down at the table, Tom could feel the fat welts pressing painfully against his underpants and jeans.
After eating a hearty breakfast, Tom went out to the cowshed where his father had already started the milking.
"Morning, son. How's your arse ?"
"Sore", replied Tom with feeling.
"I'm very sorry I had to do that but Ashley had run your mother ragged. He worships you. Maybe now he'll think twice before upsetting her".
After the cows had been returned to their paddock, Tom asked his father if he could go back to the house and help his mother with Ashley.
"Good idea, son".
So, Tom returned to the homestead and went through to the bedroom. His young brother was sitting up in bed allowing his mother to comb his unruly hair with as good a grace as he could muster.
"Morning, Tiger".
Ashley smiled at Tom.
"I'll just go and get the bed pan", said their mother.
Ashley's face darkened but he remained silent. It was the fuss he'd made about having to use the bed pan the day before which had so upset Mrs Finch.
"Tell you what, Mum", said Tom, "Why don't I carry Ashley to the toilet?"
"Will you, Tom?" asked his mother.
"Sure !"
Tom pulled back the bedclothes and effortlessly lifted Ashley up. The younger boy had certainly lost weight as a result of the illness. Secure in his loving brother's arms, the boy was conveyed to the bathroom. Tom set him down in front of the toilet.
"Free Willy" said Tom, pulling Ashley's pjs down. The young boy giggled at the old joke. He brushed his small willy with his hand as he sat down on the toilet.
"You can do the rest yourself" said Tom. "I'll be just outside the door".
It was cool in the hallway. The older brother rubbed his backside through his jeans. The wounded flesh was still painful to the touch.
Eventually, he heard the cistern flush and went back into the bathroom. Tom immediately opened the window and then carried his brother back to the bedroom.
"Thanks, Tom".
"That's ok, Tiger".
"Tom ?"
"I've got to get back. Papa's waiting".
"I just wanted to say 'sorry'". Ashley looked much younger than his eleven years. "I'll never be naughty again".
"Yes you will. All normal, healthy boys are naughty some of the time. You just make sure the next behind Papa has to whack is your own. Right?"
"Right".
"Now snuggle down and get some sleep. Some of us have got to work".
Tom waited until his younger brother closed his eyes. Then he went out into the warm sunshine.