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In case you are new to these stories, here is a brief recap.
Roger Livingstone had cheated at university and submitted an essay which was not his. His tutor had given him the choice between official action, which would mean his immediate expulsion from university or getting himself thrashed by a relative or friend and returning to prove that it had been done. He had tried to find his uncle but had discovered that he was away. On the way back home, he accepted the offer of help from an older man, who gave him his caning.
He used the same story several times, once with Russell Omerod, who had introduced him to his headmaster where he had been birched. The friendship with Russell developed and Roger's education was extended in more personal ways by Russell.
He was also introduced to Russell's cousin, Basil. This produced another school visit and another thrashing.
Now read on.
Many years had gone by. Roger was still in Bristol and still with the university but was now well up in its hierarchy, having reached the rank and title of Professor Livingstone. He had kept touch with his old friends and then, one day in his office, his telephone rang.
It was John Omerod, Russell's son asking if they could meet.
"How soon?"
"As soon as possible, please, Uncle Roger. It's urgent."
The title 'Uncle' was a courtesy one which had developed because of Roger and Russell's friendship.
"Can you get here for lunch? We can eat in the university cafeteria. There'll be no problem about being private. There's so much background noise that you can't hear what's being said on the next table."
"That'll be great. What time?"
"I know a quarter past twelve might be a bit early, but it'll beat the rush."
"I'll see you then. Thank you very much."
They met outside, went in, collected meals and found a table, near a window and further from other tables than most. They settled down and started to eat.
Roger said, "Right, John, what's the problem?"
"Me. I'm in dead trouble and I can't see how to get out of it, Uncle."
"What sort of trouble?"
"You remember that I did a law degree?"
"Yes. You've gone on to be an articled clerk, haven't you?"
"Yes. That's right. That's where the problem is. You see, we hardly get paid peanuts. My boss says we're lucky. His father had to pay for his articles."
"But I understood that your father was helping you out."
"He was or he is. The trouble is that they've gone off to the back end of the Himalayas doing some research and his cheque hasn't come through."
"Why didn't you say to start with. I'll happily lend you some money."
"It's a lot worse than that. You see, I was broke. I didn't think of doing anything sensible like seeing you or even going and asking for a bank loan. I needed the cash to pay the rent for my digs. A client paid some money in. I gave him the receipt but I didn't put it into the book. I was going to as soon as Dad's cheque came through but it's too late now. My boss was checking the books and spotted it."
"What's he going to do, John?"
"I'm not sure but I can guess now. He went absolutely bananas. He told me that it was technically client's money and there are strict rules about how it's handled. If he does anything official, the least would be reporting me to the Law Society. You know they control the profession. It would be curtains. I wouldn't even be allowed to start anywhere else, even if somewhere would take me. As well as that he could report me to the police or prosecute himself."
"It's gone rather nasty, hasn't it, John?"
"You can say that again! Well, in the end he asked me what I thought I was playing at. I tried to explain and he went bananas again. He said I had been behaving like a stupid schoolboy and I deserved to be treated like one. Then he said that that gave him an idea. I could choose between him dealing with it officially of it could be unofficial."
Roger had a strong suspicion that John was being presented with the situation which had led to Roger and John's father meeting so many years ago.
He said, "What did he want for an unofficial punishment?"
"He said I'd got to go to a relative or friend or my old school and ask them to cane me. Then I'd got to go back to him and prove that it had been done. I thought it was obvious that it would be better that way and I suggested that he could cane me. He said he couldn't do it properly with his heart the way it is. He wants quite a lot. It sounds as though he went to a really vicious school and that's the way he thinks. Well, I can't go back to my old school. Neither of them. You remember. I was at the local comprehensive until I finished the fifth form. They didn't use corporal punishment. Then Mum and Dad got the chance to start wandering and I went to Bournville Hill. Two years after I left, the old headmaster sold it. An educational trust bought it and the new headmaster got rid of most of the masters and there's hardly anybody there who'll remember me now. As well as that, the new headmaster abolished the cane. He said it was obscene. I haven't got any friends round here. I haven't been in this job all that long. There hasn't been a lot of spare time and most of my friends from university are in Scotland with being at Edinburgh. You know that Dad's my only relative apart from my Grandfather. I hardly know him. We didn't have much to do with him but I know he's had a stroke and he's past caning anybody now. From what Dad says, he'd have enjoyed doing it to me if he'd been fit."
"Do I take it that you're asking me to cane you for him?"
"I wasn't. I wanted to talk it over and see if you'd got any ideas. I didn't dare to hope that you might do it for me."
"I don't see why not, if you really want me to. I've known you long enough and I'm a friend of the family."
"I'd prefer it really. I know he'll be wanting a lot but it's fair really. I've been stupid and I ought to be punished. I accept that and, with the way he was brought up, I don't think he would think anything else was punishment. Even if it's a thousand whacks, I'd prefer that to losing my whole career. There's all the disgrace as well, for me and the family. I'd avoid that."
"Has he said how many you ought to have?"
"I think so. He gave me a letter for whoever does it but I didn't dare to have a look. I think I'd prefer not to know how many until it's over." He put his hand in his pocket and took out a letter. He passed it over to Roger.
He opened the envelope and took out the letter. He read it and looked up.
He said, "You're right. It's fairly severe. I think I would have been severe in my youth and things were stricter then."
Roger refolded the letter, put it back in its envelope and slipped it into his inside pocket.
"If you'll do it for me, I'd prefer to get it over this way. I've got a couple of canes, by the way. He gave them to me in case whoever has going to do it couldn't get at one. There are two in case one breaks."
Roger said, "I understand. Yes, I'll do it for you. I can get out this afternoon. Would you prefer to get it over?"
Yes, please, Uncle Roger."
"I've got to get a bit done. You can wait in my office and read something. We'll go after that. Did you walk here?"
"Yes. I can't really afford to use the car until that cheque comes."
"I'll lend you something as well. Then you can pay it back. How much do you owe him?"
"Seventy four pounds."
"Is that all?"
"It's the principle as far as he's concerned. It would have been the same if it had been five pounds, I think. To be fair to him, it could well have been the same if it had been five hundred or a thousand, except that it might have been more difficult to persuade him that my intention was to borrow it. He's accepted that I was genuinely thinking of it as being borrowed."
Roger said, "Have you got a bank account?"
"Yes. Why? There's practically nothing in it."
"I'll give you a cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds. You can return it after your father's cheque comes through but if you're still short before that happens, please come back to me. After he's accepted that you have been properly punished, give Mr Lockwood-Topping a cheque for the seventy four. His books will have the evidence that you took the money. That cheque will be in your bank as evidence that you paid it back, that he accepted your payment and when. Now, instead of hanging around my office, you can go to the bank and pay the cheque in."
"You really are a brick, Uncle Roger."
"Forget it, John. I was helped often enough when I was young."
"Oh, I've just thought. His canes. You'll need them won't you?"
Roger said, "Actually, I can lay my hands on one."
"If we go via my digs when we go to your place, we could get them. We might as well risk breaking his and not yours."
Some time later, John appeared at Roger's office.
Roger said, "Well timed. I've just finished and I'll be able to be with you in two minutes."
They went to Roger's car. On the way there, Roger said, "I was in contact with Bournville Hill once, John."
"I didn't know that."
"It was almost literally a contact. I was only there for a few hours. Did they still use order marks and clear up the accounts on Friday evenings if you got three?"
"Nearly. It was five when I was there. That was fortunate for me. I'd have had a whacking if it had been three but I didn't get as far as five. Actually, there weren't many people who did, even lower in the school and it hardly ever happened to sixth formers. As your number went up you were more and more careful."
"So you've never tried the cane, even in reasonable numbers?"
"No. Nothing like that at all. It wasn't until I was getting a bit older that Dad explained that he didn't dare to belt me or anything like that. He was afraid he'd get like his father and he said he didn't want me to feel about him like he had about Grandfather."
They reached the car park. They settled into the car. John explained how to get to his digs and Roger set off into the traffic saying, "How does the idea of being caned appeal to you?"
John said, "It's funny. I've always been able to talk with you about things that I couldn't talk to Dad about. Obviously, I'm not looking forward to it, especially with as many as it'll be, but it's always fascinated me. Perhaps I shouldn't say this. You might think I'm odd, but the idea turns me on. It did when I was at school. When I was a prefect and on duty outside the head's study or the house master's for clearing the accounts, I'd get a real old hard just listening to the cane cracking onto the backsides. Actually, once when I did get up to three order marks, I did wonder about doing a couple of other fairly trivial things. I didn't want it to be things I was ashamed of, but I was tempted to find out what it was like."
He paused and then added, "I remember I got a thrill seeing the stripes on boys' bottoms in the showers or dormitory as well."
Roger said, "I'd better come clean. The details don't matter at this distance in time, but I did something seriously wrong when I was an undergraduate and I was given the same option as you. Your father introduced me to his school and his headmaster did it for me."
"From what Dad's said about his school, he'd have enjoyed it as well."
"I think he did. I'd never been caned before then. I was like you, though. The idea had turned me on for as long as I could remember. Your father helped me to cope with it."
Just then they reached John's digs. Roger stopped the car. John said, "I won't be long."
He got out, ran up the drive, let himself into the house and was soon back in the car with a long parcel. Roger set off and John asked, "What did you mean when you said that Dad helped you cope with it, Uncle Roger?"
"I hadn't been to boarding school or had any close contact with other boys. Not like that. He extended my education. Your uncle Basil took it even further when I met him."
"It's funny. I did things like that at Bournville Hill, but I never thought of Dad or you or Uncle Basil doing it."
Roger said, "I think I should have said this some time ago. Can't you drop the 'Uncle' and just call me Roger?"
"I'd like to. Thank you. But can we wait until after my caning, please? It'll be better if there's a sort of authority with the one who does it."
"Fair enough, John. Actually, your uncle Basil did more for me. He was a couple of years older than me. I'd been used to being controlled at school and home and I suddenly had all that freedom. Most of the time, I didn't even have my parents about during vacations. Once I went to university, my father started to take contracts overseas and he took my mother with him. Your uncle Basil caned or belted me when I deserved it, while I was a student and he was in Bristol. He did it for your father as well, during vacations. He had effectively refused to accept his father's discipline and still needed some control."
Soon afterwards, the car moved into Roger's drive. They got out, John collected the canes and Roger locked the car. They went in.
Roger said, "Do you want to use the toilet, John? It doesn't happen very often, but there can be an accident during a severe caning, if your bladder isn't empty."
John said, "Presumably an even nastier one if your bowel isn't?"
"I was trying to be discreet. You've been here before. You know where to go. I'll work out how we can best do it."
Soon afterwards, he returned. Roger said, "You can force yourself to take it, if you like, but it might draw things out a bit if you hold things up."
"It's got to be a real punishment. This isn't six of the best at school. I know that. It'll be better if I can be fastened down and have it in one go, I think. It'll be more like a proper punishment, won't it?"
Roger said, "OK. It's a bit odd, but we'd better use the kitchen. There's plenty of room and there's a strong table you can be fastened onto."
In the kitchen, he pulled out a table, about two feet square. John said, "You'll be doing it on bare bottom, won't you?"
"No. We will have better marks if it's just in your underpants, though rather than through trousers as well."
John removed his jacket and trousers and crossed to the table. Roger said, "Just hang on a moment. I won't be long."
He went out and returned with a cushion. "Put this over the table edge. It'll save it cutting you. I've thought of something else. It's plenty warm enough. You may as well get your shirt off. It'll save it getting crumpled and it'll be coming off afterward, anyway."
It also gave Roger a more attractive view of his naked back and his boxer shorts covering his bottom just as the cushion not only made some difference to his comfort but also raised his backside marginally.
Roger used some cord, padded with dusters to prevent its cutting, to secure John's wrists and ankles. He collected one of the canes John had brought, flexed it and decided that it had come from a good source. He went over to John and looked at another bottom, this time encased in boxer shorts. It was waiting for his treatment. He aimed carefully, took it back and said, "I'm starting, John."
CRRACKK!
The cane crashed into Roger's target, across the centre line where he had aimed. Roger was able to imagine the surge of pain which shot through the young man's body. He had experienced similar treatment himself often enough. The evidence of its effect was plain as John's head shot back and a gasp escaped his lips. Roger thought back to the times when he had been caned. He was not doing it with the power he had experienced when he had been introduced to Basil's old school and the gym master had used all the power of an accomplished tennis player delivering a forehand smash. It was powerful, though. He decided that it ought to give a pause of between ten and fifteen seconds. The first stroke was John's first experience and it was a good one. He needed time to appreciate it and to recover. Fifteen seconds later, Roger delivered the second.
CRRACKK!
He saw John react again and was aware of his struggle not to cry out. Another pause and then the third.
CRRACKK!
Roger moved towards a regular rhythm. John's reaction seemed to indicate a pause of about twelve seconds.
CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK!
That was six. It would be ten times as many as that before he had reached even the minimum that was being asked for. If he were in these circumstances, Roger knew that he would not feel it right to have less than that.
CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK!
That was twelve. John was struggling a little. Roger was continuing to drive the strokes in and spread them across his target. Twelve more followed and then another twelve. That was thirty six. Another twelve and Roger seriously considered stopping. Again, he realised that he would want at least the minimum demanded.
CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK!
CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK! CRRACKK!
Roger stopped. He said, "That's what your employer asked for, John. I'll release you.
He untied the cords. John got to his feet and held his throbbing, bruised seat. Roger took a glass, filled it with water and said, "I suspect that you need a drink."
John took the glass and sipped some water.
"Thanks. That was sixty, wasn't it?"
"Yes. I'm surprised you managed to count them."
"Can I see the letter he gave me, now, please?"
"I don't think you should. You didn't want to know how many until it was over and he suggests that there should be a second session although the completion of the first will satisfy him that things can return to normal."
"Fair enough. Well, how many did he actually say for this session?"
"A minimum of sixty and that's what I've given you."
"If he's talking about a minimum, presumably he wanted it to go further?"
"I'm afraid so."
"How many, please?"
Roger took the letter from his pocket to remind himself of the exact wording.
"He says, 'It does seem to me that the minimum I should expect would be sixty strokes and that a hundred would be more appropriate.' To be honest, John, that seems to me to be out of all proportion."
"I ought to have the hundred. If I'd known it was a hundred before we started, I'd have been scared stiff and I might have chickened out, but I know I'll feel better later if I do have it. Do you mind?"
"I think you need a bit of a break and the chance to rub your bottom. I'll let you go and then you can just hang on for the rest."
"I've had a bit of a break, Uncle. If you don't mind, I'd prefer to stay fastened down. Would you mind rubbing my bottom, please?"
John had a nice bottom. Roger was only too happy to oblige.
John said, "Thanks. There's something else as well, please. I was an idiot and forget I'd probably get a hard. It's trapped under me pointing down and struggling to go up."
Roger put his hand between the young man's legs and encouraged his erring organ into a more sensible place.
"Thanks. That's better. I'm ready for the rest, now."
Roger went back to his task. Once again, the cane was systematically striking the John's cheeks, driving in the message of his employer's disapproval. Once again, Roger was spacing the blows out, covering the entire target area. Eventually, he reached the hundred strokes.
Roger said, "That's the lot, John."
John looked round and said, "Thanks. I'm glad that I had the extra now that it's over. Can you give me another rub, please, before you let me go? It was rather nice."
Roger was only too happy to oblige. Then he released the cords. John got to his feet and said, "Thank you, Roger. I can call you that now."
Roger said, "Grab your clothes and come with me."
He took him to his bedroom and said, "Let's look at the damage."
John slipped his boxer shorts down and stepped out of them. He turned round, displaying a most impressive array of bruises.
Roger said, "At least he won't be able to count them. He ran his hands over both cheeks and said, "I really am sorry."
John said, "It hurt like hell but I'm grateful. After what you were saying in the car, would you like to do something with this?"
He turned round, displaying his throbbing penis.
"If you'd like me to."
"Yes, please."
"Would you like to do something with mine as well?"
"Yes, please."
We'd better both get properly undressed, then."
As he stripped, Roger said, "Would you like us to find a use for this?" He held up a jar of Vaseline.
John said, "You said that there's got to be another session, didn't you?"
"Yes, but it won't be as bad as this one."
"I'd prefer to do it like that then, please. It'll mark that everything's been cleared up. Besides I'm really a bit too bruised to have it comfortably now."
Soon afterwards they lay on the bed, each with his mouth and tongue working on his partner. It was clearly not the first time John had done it. They were a team and came almost simultaneously.
Afterwards, Roger said, "Have a soak in the bath. The bruising will still be there but you'll feel better. Give me a shout when you're dry and I'll powder your bum for you. You'll feel more comfortable like that as well."
John said, "Before that, would you like to put some Vaseline in, please, just to remind me of what's to come."
He turned onto his front. Roger took the lube, took some onto his finger and moved towards John's anus.
"Have you ever done this before?"
"No, but some of the lads at school did it with each other. That's how I knew what you meant."
"OK. Relax. You've got to teach the muscle to let it in and later to let me in. It's main job is holding things in so it's got to learn."
He gently pushed his way into John's body and moved his finger around to help him get used to the sensation.
As Roger took his finger out, John said, "I'll do that several times before the next time. Then I'll be really ready for you. Shall I put Vaseline in before I come over as well?"
"It might be an idea."
An hour later, Roger drove him back into the city and to the offices of Mr Lawrence P. W. Lockwood-Topping.
John said, "There's an office car park at the back. You can use that."
"I can just drive round, if you'd like to see him by yourself."
"I'd prefer you there if you don't mind."
"Fair enough."
Roger parked the car. They got out and he locked it. Together they entered the office building. At reception, John said, "Is Mr Lockwood-Topping free?"
"There's no-one with him and he's not on the phone. I'll just ring and check."
Only a few seconds later, she put the phone down and said, "You can go in."
They went in. John said, "I've brought a family friend, sir. Dr Roger Livingstone."
Roger assumed that John was trying to impress his employer. He said, "Actually, since the last time we met I've gone up slightly. It's Professor Livingstone now."
Mr Lockwood-Topping was a desiccated looking man, thin, dry and bald. He said, "Please sit down, both of you."
Roger took a seat. John said, "The chair's a bit hard. I'd prefer to stand, sir, thank you."
"Do I take it that you have accepted my suggestion, Mr Omerod?"
"Yes, sir. I hadn't got any relatives I could go to. There was no point in going to my school and so I went to Professor Livingstone. He has given me the punishment you asked for."
"There was no need to have dragged him in here. I'd have taken your word for it."
"I thought you wanted to see the marks, sir. That was part of why I asked him to come. It's not usual for men to expose their bottoms in city offices and I thought a witness would help to protect your reputation."
Roger said, "He didn't mention that point to me, Mr Lockwood-Topping, but it does make sense. It's not a usual procedure, but this is not a usual situation, mercifully. When he was talking to me about the difficult predicament he had put himself in, he accepted that he should be punished and was grateful that you had suggested an informal way out of it. I'm sure that he feels that you have the right to make sure it was well done just as, when I had given him the minimum that you had proposed and stopped, he asked for more details of what was in your letter and insisted that he wanted to be honest and asked me to give him the entire hundred strokes. I did."
John said, "I hope it's not too embarrassing, sir, but I would prefer you to see what has been done. Uncle Roger might not have done it as hard as you would want and you can tell him to give me more if you don't think we've been fair to you."
He did not wait for a reply. Instead, he turned round, dropped his trousers to his knees, pushed his boxer shorts down, raised his jacket and shirt tail and bent slightly forward.
His employer said, "Thank you, Mr Omerod. I can see you have been well thrashed. That is more than adequate."
John started to dress again.
Mr Lockwood-Topping said, "Thank you, Professor. I am grateful for your help. Basically, he's a good young man and I didn't wish to ruin his future because of one foolish act, but clearly it had to be punished. We can now put this sorry episode behind us."
Just as he had fastened his trousers, John put his hand into his inside pocket, took out a cheque book, removed a cheque and said, "I've got this for you, sir." He passed it over.
His employer looked at it and said, "If I remember rightly, it was seventy four pounds. You've made this for seventy five."
"That was to be on the safe side, sir. It would have got some interest in the bank sir, and I wanted to cover it. By the way, sir, just so that you know. Uncle Roger's going to give me the rest that you said I should have when I've got over this."
"That's between him and you, now."
John said, "There's something else I'd like to ask while you and Uncle Roger are here."
"What's that?"
"When you were talking with me about your younger days, you said that you might have been beaten by your employer or your father until you were independent and had completed your articles."
"That's right. It was accepted in those days."
"My father doesn't live anywhere around here and he's often abroad. You aren't fit enough to do it, sir, but I can see the point. I was wondering if Uncle Roger would be prepared to cane me if I did anything wrong. You know, sir. Seriously enough for your employer to have punished you if you'd done something like that. You could write and let him know."
Mr Lockwood-Topping said, "It might have been a good idea to discuss this with the professor first."
"I recognise that, sir, but I didn't think of it until a few moments ago. I know he would understand what I'm saying in any case."
Mr Lockwood-Topping turned to Roger. "Professor, if you would give him that measure of support, I would be grateful. Perhaps this is the wrong time to tell him and you, but I have been impressed by Mr Omerod's work. You will realise that I am not a young man and I am not a well one. I have no family of my own apart from distant relations who are only beginning to take an interest in me now in the hope or expectation of a mention in my will. I had other hopes. They were partially dashed by the trouble that arose a few days ago. However, your telling me that he willingly went to a hundred when you had stopped at sixty, together with the unnecessary addition of interest on that cheque and now, the recognition that he needs that extra discipline and making arrangements for it brings me back to what I had in mind. You may have noticed that this is a one man firm. Once he is fully qualified, I hope to move towards semi-retirement with his taking over an increasing proportion of the work. I have every expectation that he will do well and will become a partner and my heir in due course. It may seem to be foolish, but I have started to look on him as the son I never had and I think I'll be able to be proud of him."
John looked towards Roger and said, "Can we do that, please, uncle?"
Roger said, "With one or two minor modifications and clarifying one or two other issues. The clarification first. Mr Lockwood-Topping had every right to stipulate the size of the punishment last time. I do now, taking account of your age but also what are accepted as modern standards for sentencing. Now the modifications. For problems at work, if you are aware of something and inform me before I hear from Mr Lockwood-Topping, I will be happier. You need to be disciplining yourself at your age. It will also be a milder punishment. Similarly, if I become aware of any problem in your non-working life which should have been owned up to, but you haven't told me, I will be far more severe."
"That's fair. Thank you."
John turned to his employer. "Thank you for giving me that chance, sir, and thank you for the confidence you've shown in me. I'll do my best not to let you down. For me, it's even more important now that you've told me what you did, not because the firm might be mine one day but because I'd feel awful if I let you down now."
Roger started to make the preparations for their withdrawal and soon afterwards they got out with John expected to return for work next morning.
In the car, as they drove away, John said, "Cor! I wouldn't have expected that in a month of Sundays. I can see why he was so upset about me doing it now. I'm really glad that I asked you not to stop at sixty, now. I just feel better for being honest and I really am grateful that you went all the way. Thank you again. Thanks for what happened afterwards as well. I felt as though I was human again."
"Forget it. As I said earlier, it repays some of what was done for me. If you want that other stage, get in touch after the bruising's gone down. We'll see what we can do then."
He took John back to his digs and dropped him there before returning to work to clear up.
About ten days later Roger was ready and waiting for John. He arrived and they sat down over a coffee.
"How's work going?"
"Absolutely great, thanks, Roger."
"I'd like you to stick to Roger now as well, please. It was right to use 'Uncle' in Mr Lockwood-Topping's office. He wanted something a bit more formal."
"Shouldn't I use it while you're walloping me as well?"
"Now. This time I'll be doing at as a family friend. If there are any subsequent occasions, it'll be as your friend rather than as an uncle. I'll explain about this time, now. That letter you gave me pointed out that, had your employer behaved as you had, not only would he have been thrashed for the actual offence. There would have been a further session at home. That would be for bringing disgrace on the family."
John said, "I see. With it not being official and getting out of all that disgrace, it ought to be more than it would have been if it had been official, as well."
"I suppose so. Now, this is not the basic offence and we draw attention to it by using a strap rather than the cane. Mr Lockwood-Topping actually said that his father would have given him a leathering and so he's drawing the same distinction."
"I can understand that, I think. This is for letting my family down and it's more than for that because we've got out of actually doing it. Dad's not here and so he can't do it and he wouldn't even if he was here and so you're going to stand in for him."
"In a way. I'd prefer it if I can do it because you feel that it's due and I'm doing it as your friend."
"Yes. That's better. It'll be even more like you're my friend if you can give me some comfort afterwards."
"I said I would."
"And I've got myself ready for you as well."
"Right. The bedroom seems to be the place to do it. Let's get the worst part over."
They went up. Roger said, "It's the strap and so it's bare backside this time."
John started to undress and said, "If you're doing this as my friend, you don't have to be all formal. You could get undressed, ready if you want to, couldn't you?"
Roger accepted the point. Soon there was Roger, wearing only his Y-Fronts and holding a heavy three tailed tawse, facing a completely naked John.
Roger said, "Kneel on the bed, bottom well in the air and head well down. Give me a good target, please."
John obeyed. Roger looked at the bottom which would so soon be enveloped in his groin. First, though, there was another pleasurable task. He raised the tawse and then crashed it across the waiting seat.
SPPLATT!
He watched the development of the pink area he had produced.
SPPLATT!
Another pause while John absorbed the pain.
SPPLATT!
Roger was able to imagine the sensation. He had experienced it many times in the past. He did not have to imagine the excitement in his Y-Fronts!
SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
This time, the solicitor had given no indication of what the sentence should be. Roger considered what a reasonable, contemporary father might give. That was six. It could be enough for a fifteen year old but John was more than that.
SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
Again, Roger tried to work out what was right. He remembered that John had asked for the maximum rather than the minimum last time. Perhaps a few more would help.
SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
Roger said, "That's enough, John."
"Are you sure?"
"What was the most you remember a boy at school getting?"
"Six of the best. They never went over that."
"You're older but that was for a domestic addition to a punishment you had already received. Eighteen's enough."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I'll show you the letter you gave me."
He had left it ready and passed it over. John sat on the bed and, for the first time, he read,
"To whom it may concern.
"Subject: The Misbehaviour of Mr John Omerod
"Sir,
"I hope that, as you are reading this, you are prepared to help this foolish young man. What he has done is extremely serious and it has to be a punishment which would reflect that seriousness.
"I was fortunate enough to be brought up in an era when discipline counted and not in the namby pamby atmosphere that prevails in education, the law and the world today. I was brought up to know the difference between right and wrong. The cane and the birch were both used in my school and they taught us. I remember a boy of fifteen receiving twelve strokes from the birch for stealing. While technically, the present offence was not stealing, it is very close to it and he is well able to take more than a fifteen year old boy. He would also avoid the ignominy that boy suffered, for it was a public flogging on his bare backside, of course, before he was publicly expelled. I cannot expect you to be able to have access to a birch, but I think that a fair estimate is that a stroke of the birch is equivalent to between three and five from the cane, and then add some further to allow for his greater age, it does seem to me that the minimum I should expect would be sixty strokes and that a hundred would be more appropriate.
"I would also point out that if I had done anything as serious as this when I was either at school or in training, in addition to any punishment inflicted there, I would have been well and truly leathered at home by my father for letting my family down.
"May I thank you in advance for your help. I hope you will take it as seriously as I do.
"Yours faithfully,
"Lawrence P. W. Lockwood-Topping."
John said, "Perhaps you ought to make it two dozen. He did say that he'd have been well and truly leathered."
"You were, by today's standard."
"Well, the other was a hundred. Can't you make it twenty five for this?"
"All right."
Roger picked up the tawse again. John went back to his waiting position.
SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT! SPPLATT!
Roger said, "That's really it, John."
John straightened out and lay on his back. "If you do me by hand, it'll be less time before I really find what you're like."
Roger moved alongside him, took his throbbing penis and said, "Are you sure you don't want me to suck you?"
"Not this time, thanks."
Roger worked on his task and soon John was shooting his semen across his abdomen. Roger passed his a tissue. He wiped it off, turned over and said, "I'm really waiting for you."
Roger could see he was. He put his condom on, mounted and entered. He drove in, feeling the warmth of the young man's leathered bottom. Deeper and deeper. John groaned in appreciation as Roger found he was. At last, he came. They rested together.
Later, as they dressed, John said, "That was incredible."
Roger knew that he was going to be able to relive his younger years through John and that the young man would be back.
THE END