This history now moves on a year or more. Andrew and Oscar completed their first year at Longhampton Grammar School for Boys without any major mishaps. Their academic work was well up to standard. Their general behaviour was pretty average for reasonably high-spirited boys of their age. There had been no major trouble. Both had had no more than a couple of detentions a term. Admittedly, Mr Charlton, their form master in the first form and therefore the person with the most opportunity to award detentions, had opted for a different method maintaining discipline. At an early stage he had worked out, as a result of a chance observation in the changing rooms, that Andrew was still subject to corporal punishment at home. In fact, what he had seen was the result of a game Andrew and Oscar had played, rather than the effects of a parental punishment, but the conclusion he had drawn as to Andrew's father's approach to discipline was correct. He was not an unduly harsh school master, but he did think that the abolition of corporal punishment in schools had been a backward step. He was firmly convinced that, in the days of the moderate use of cane and slipper, schoolboys had been generally better behaved and more educable than they were now. But he had to live with the law as it was. Fortunately, being in charge of first year boys, he had worked out that many of them were still spanked or slippered at home. Accordingly, he would often decide against imposing detentions, preferring instead to write to the boys' fathers, in the hope that a more appropriate punishment would be given at home. Over their year in form 1A, he had done that four times with Andrew and three times with Oscar. On all those occasions he had been rewarded with notes from the boys' fathers confirming that the boys had been slippered. Since entering the second form, however, these home slipperings for school misdemeanours had stopped. The form master of 2A was Mr Jellicoe. He did not follow Mr Charlton's practice of writing h! ome to parents when boys were in trouble. If you had asked him about it, he would probably have tended to agree that the abolition of the cane had been a bad thing, but he felt perfectly able to keep order by the occasional use of other penalties. As a result, Andrew and Oscar had found the number of slipperings reducing, but the number of detentions increasing.
Early in his days at Longhampton, Andrew had come across some romantic school stories on a website called MMSA Stories. All featured fairly frequent, but moderate use of corporal punishment. He had been struck by the nobility of the boys who were punished (and often of the prefects and masters carrying out the punishments). In particular, he had been impressed by the stoical way in which the young offenders had taken their beatings. They never argued. They always bent over as soon as they were instructed to do so. They never cried. They often thanked their punisher at the end. Reading the stories had given him a sense of guilt. Until then, he had always made a tremendous fuss when being punished by his father. He had argued about the punishment. He had refused to take his trousers down or bend over (his father having to remove the trousers by force and to hold him down for the whacking). He resolved to mend his ways. He had told Oscar about the stories and about his resolution. Oscar, having then read them, agreed that he, too, would change his approach to punishment. Andrew had been the first to be put to the test, and had passed with flying colours. His friend followed suit about three weeks later. Both boys had stuck to their resolution. Their fathers assumed that the change must be due to the culture of the school. Not surprisingly, the boys did not put them right about that.
We join the boys again in the Summer term of their second year at the school. They were now nearly thirteen years old (both their birthdays were in August). They had developed considerably, both mentally and physically, since their first term. They were still high-spirited and happy to join in any harmless mischief on offer. But they were more thoughtful about others than they had been in the past. Neither had ever approved of bullying. Inevitably, however, when they were younger, they had found themselves joining in with the taunting of weaker and smaller boys. They had now grown out of that. They were stronger in their determination not to hurt smaller boys. They went further and positively came to the rescue of those being bullied. Physically, each had added an inch or two to his height. They had been highly active on the sports field and remained very fit. Neither, with the onset of puberty, had lost his good looks. I am afraid I have to report that, in the months leading up to the time of which I now write, they had both found it impossible to keep to their early resolution not to indulge in a certain nocturnal activity other than on days on which they were punished or on sleep overs. Their hormones were now much too active and both had found it impossible to resist temptation. It was not uncommon for both, in the privacy of their bedrooms, to be surfing the net for pictures as enticing as those of Mandy, and both still found some of the MMSA Stories stories strangely exciting. They had not, however, repeated the game they had played with the slipper in the Barn at Andrew's farm. They had agreed that the possibility of having to be punished by their fathers while the evidence of such a game was still visible was too appalling to contemplate. The most they had done since had been to give each other a few smacks on the bottom before bed on sleep overs, confident that the consequent reddening of buttocks would have disappeared long before their fathers might have cause to see it. As for g! irls, both had their eyes on some pf the pupils at the neighbouring girls' grammar school, but neither had plucked up the courage to do much about it.
The summer of 2003 was a particularly pleasant one in England. For days on end, Longhampton and the neighbouring village of Shorthampton were bathed in glorious sunshine. Not a single cricket match against other schools had to be abandoned because of rain. Andrew and Oscar were both prominent members of the Under 13s XI. Oscar was a talented batsman and Andrew a demon spin bowler. Largely because of their inclusion in the side, it had done remarkably well. By early July, it had won all of its matches save two, and those had been drawn. The popularity of the subjects of this history was very great.
There was also a tennis club, run jointly by the girls' and boys' schools, which met on Sunday afternoons. Andrew and Oscar had joined it early in the term, when they realised that it would provide a way of meeting girls. Although neither had played much tennis before, their natural sporting talent was such that they soon became proficient at the game. Indeed, by the time of which I write, they had both progressed to the finals of the club's Under 13s mixed doubles and, on the next Sunday, they were to play against each other. Andrew's partner was Mandy Blair, the strikingly pretty girl with whom he had been at primary school whose name had led him to click on the link to another Mandy's page on the internet. He had recognised her charms in the last year of primary school. Now, with testosterone pumping through his body at an alarming rate, he was even more entranced by her. She was slim, with shortish dark hair with a page boy cut. Her breasts were just beginning to develop. Her legs were long and slim and rose to a bottom of such perfect roundness and firmness that he found it difficult to keep his eyes off it, especially when she was clad in tight white tennis shorts. She was older than him, having been 13 since the previous September (she qualified for the under 13s because her thirteenth birthday was after 1st September 2002), but they were both in their second years at their respective schools.
Oscar's partner was a girl whom neither had met until they joined the tennis club. She was called Julia Braithwaite. He had quickly grown to admire her in the weeks in which they had been playing together. She, like him, had blonde hair. It was slightly longer than Mandy's. Her build was very similar to Mandy's (slim with budding breasts, long legs, small and slightly round firm bottom). As was the case with Mandy, she was something of a tomboy, always eager to join in any mischief the boys might be planning. She had just had her thirteenth birthday and was, therefore, only a few weeks older than her partner.
The boys had not yet dared make any advances on their tennis partners, but both, when alone together, talked incessantly of their charms and, I regret to say, of the rather coarse designs they had on them. They knew that the mixed day of the mixed doubles finals would provide one of their last chances before the end of term to cement their friendships. Their was to be a dance in the clubhouse in the evening. Both boys were going. They were determined to make use of the opportunity to test the girls' feelings for them.
On the Saturday before the finals there was to be a sleep over at Andrew's house. As was now the norm, the boys were again to be allowed to sleep in the barn. The second Saturday morning school was over, they dashed to the station to get the train to Shorthampton. They arrived just in time for one of the Partons' enormous lunches. Christopher and Jenny, Andrew's parents, were again presiding over a thoroughly jolly meal. Paul, Andrew's younger brother (who was now nearly eleven and would be going to the grammar school in September) was also there. Oscar now felt entirely at home at the farm. He greeted his friend's family warmly and sat down to tuck into the feast. There was some playful banter about which boy would be triumphant in the match on the following day. All was delightful.
After lunch Christopher and Jenny were to go into town to do some shopping. The farm hands had the afternoon off. So the boys were to be left to their own devices for a couple of hours. And that is where things started to go wrong. It was Andrew's idea, but Oscar and Paul both jumped at the plan. In recent weeks Christopher had been teaching Andrew to drive. They used the older of the two Landrovers and drove, obviously, only on farm land. Christopher was a good tutor and his son had come on very well. It goes without saying that all three boys knew perfectly well that they were absolutely forbidden to use the Landrover other than when Christopher was there to supervise. But boys will be boys.
"Hey, look, do you think it'd be cool to take the Landrover out for a spin in Five Acre Field?" Andrew asked as soon as his parents had driven away. "Obviously, there'd be hell to pay if we got caught, but I don't see why Mum and Dad should ever find out."
"God that would just be wicked" said Oscar without a moment's pause.
"I'm certainly on" said Paul.
So, without more ado, they set off into the yard, after Andrew had collected the key from his father's office. They agreed that it would be unwise for anyone other than Andrew to drive. So he climbed into the driving seat and Oscar and Paul sat in the two front passenger seats. All started smoothly enough. They drove up the track to the gate to Five Acre Field. Paul jumped out and opened the gate. He carefully closed it (as any good farmer's son would) after the Landrover had driven in and jumped back into the vehicle. Andrew took the familiar route along the right hand side of the field all the way to the end, driving at a sensible and steady fifteen miles an hour along the bumpy surface. But then, rather than turn round and make the return journey along the same route (as he always did with his father) he suggested that they might try continuing round the outer perimeter, to the left. His passengers thought that, in the overused word, would be "cool" and so they took the new route. As they were about half way along, Oscar suddenly noticed a hot air balloon above them. He pointed it out to the other two. Andrew took his eyes off the field ahead for only a second. But that was enough. They were right next to a ditch as he looked up. The front wheels were in the ditch when he looked down again. He shoved the Landrover into reverse and put his foot on the accelerator. But the wheels just spun round and the vehicle did not budge. They got out to look. There was no damage, but it was quite clear that it was stuck. Oscar and Paul tried pushing, with Andrew at the wheel. But to no avail. Half an hour later they had to admit that they stood no chance of moving it. Of course, as Andrew and Paul knew, it would be the work of a moment to pull it out with one of the tractors, but there would not be time to get back to the yard, find the keys to a tractor and drive it to the field and back before Christopher and Jenny returned.
"Oh God", said Andrew, "this is going to be the biggest trouble I've ever been in.". He thought for a moment. "Look, there's no reason why you two should be involved. We'll go back to the house and you can start playing table tennis. When Dad comes back, I'll own up, but I'll say I did it alone while you were playing in the house."
"Don't be stupid Andy", said Oscar, "there's no way your dad would believe that you left me and went off on your own. Anyway, it was my fault for pointing out the balloon. We'll both have to own up. But I agree that Paul needn't. We might easily have left him alone."
Paul, who had already started nervously stroking his shorts clad bottom in anticipation of what he assumed would shortly be happening to it, was not a boy to refuse to face up to his responsibilities. "'Course I'll own up to. We were all in it together."
Andrew could no more budge Oscar and Paul than he could the Landrover. So a plan was made. They would go back to the farm. Oscar and Paul would go straight to the Barn. Andrew would go to the house, collect the dreaded slipper, bring it to the Barn and then return to the house to await his parents' return. He would then, as gently as he could, break the news to his father and tell him that his co-conspirators were in the Barn waiting.
Oscar and Paul were, not surprisingly, very nervous as they waited in the Barn's sitting room. They discussed what was likely to happen.
"What do you think your dad will do?"
"Well, Andrew and I will definitely get the whacking of our lives. I suppose he'll tell your dad about it and leave him to punish you."
"I hope he doesn't. I mean, I don't mind getting punished. Obviously I deserve it. But I'd much rather your dad did it and got it all over and done with. I know he must whack just as hard as my dad does, but I'd hate to have to wait till tomorrow when you two had got it today."
Back at the house Andrew could see his parents' car coming up the drive. His heart was beating wildly as it neared. He went out into the yard to meet them. He was surprised to see that his mother wasn't in the car. As his father stepped out he asked where she was.
"Oh, she decided to stay in town for a bit. She's getting the train back. Where are the others?"
Andrew, very falteringly, told his story. Christopher did not interrupt once, but his face was getting darker and darker by the moment. Andrew concluded: "so you see, Dad, Oscar and Paul are in the Barn waiting for you. I thought you'd like to see us all straight away."
"I most certainly do. Go there and wait for me while I put this shopping away."
"OK Dad, oh, by the way, I've already put the slipper in the Barn."
Andrew joined the other miserable miscreants.
"Well, you won't be surprised to hear that he's absolutely furious. You know Paul, he's in that mood when he goes all quiet and you almost long for him to start shouting. There's no doubt, we're for it."
The wait was not long. Christopher opened the door, turned slowly and shut it and then faced the three boys. They were standing together, all looking at their feet. All were wearing short shorts and T shirts. Although Andrew and Oscar had grown, they still looked small and vulnerable. Paul looked even more vulnerable.
"I'm not going to waste my breath telling you off", he said after a long pause. "You know that what you have done is unforgivable. You could all have been injured or even killed. You will have to pay a heavy price for what you have done. Paul, I propose to thrash you harder than I have ever done before."
"Yes Dad". Neither his father nor the other boys yet knew it, but Paul had very recently decided that he, just like his brother, would accept punishments from his father without fuss or argument. This was the second time Christopher had been surprised to find one of his sons not advancing pathetic excuses and saying he was "unfair".
"As for you Andrew, were it not for Oscar's involvement, I would have no hesitation in giving you six with the slipper. But, since Oscar is clearly involved as well, I propose instead to ban you from taking part in the tennis match tomorrow. I shall be ringing your father, Oscar, and advising him to do the same with you."
It was Oscar who spoke. He guessed that six with the slipper from Christopher would be absolute agony, but he could not bear the thought of missing the tennis.
"Oh please Mr Parton", he thought it prudent not to use the Christian name on such an occasion, "It would be awful if Andrew missed the match just cos he got into trouble with me. Can't you whack us all?"
"You're not my son, Oscar. It must be for your father to decide on your punishment."
"Honestly, I know exactly what punishment he would want me to have. After all, it's his slipper you use on Andrew and he's told you that the other one is used for me. He would really want you to whack me, I promise."
Christopher thought for a moment. He certainly considered that Andrew ought to be thrashed. It was also true that he knew that Oscar's father shared his views on the punishment of boys. Eventually he decided.
"OK, I will change my mind. Andrew, you will get six with the slipper. Oscar, you will get four."
Again Oscar protested. "I am just as much to blame as Andrew. It really wouldn't be fair to give him more than me. Dad would certainly give me six."
Christopher liked the spirit of his son's friend. He again paused. Again, he changed his mind.
"Very well. I will give you six as well. We might as well do it now. Paul, you can be first."
As Christopher turned to his younger son he could see that the boy was pulling his shorts and boxers down already. He sat on the sofa and patted his knee. "Over here Paul".
Paul walked forwards and, without a word, lay across his father's knee. His small white bottom was completely bare. Christopher rested his hand on it for a moment.
"I'm afraid it's going to have to be six Paul".
"I know Dad".
The older boys watched with a mixture of fear and fascination as six of the hardest smacks they had ever seen rained down on Paul's bottom. By the end, it was bright scarlet. Paul had made not the slightest sound. As he rose at the end, his eyes were watering, but he blinked back the tears and furiously rubbed his stinging bottom.
"Thank you Dad. I'll never be so stupid again."
Andrew, who knew that it would be preferable to be the next victim, if only so he could watch Oscar getting it without having to worry about his own punishment, was much too good a host.
"Do you want to go next Oscar?"
"If you really don't mind, thanks Andy" and he stepped forward, undoing his shorts as he approached the only appropriate looking chair in the room. Once there, he lowered his shorts and boxers and bent over the back of the chair. Even though two years older than Paul, his bottom, when positioned for punishment, looked hardly bigger. He tensed the muscles and waited. He had never had six with the slipper before. He was just praying he would take it well. The first four, he knew, would be OK (he had had four before). But he had always thought that more than that would be unbearable. Certainly, after the fourth, he was in agony. His bottom was already showing signs of bruising. He screwed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. Wham, the fifth smashed into his small round cheeks. Somehow he stayed still and silent. Christopher could guess how painful it was and he delivered the final stroke without any pause, so that it was over and done with as soon as possible. Oscar jumped five times in the air when he rose. His hands were both clutching his throbbing bottom. But the immediate pain began to ebb and he settled down.
"Thank you very much Mr Parton. I know I needed that and I know my dad'll be grateful to you."
"Now you've had your punishment, you can revert to calling me Christopher".
"Thank you Christopher."
Andrew had not exactly enjoyed watching his friend's thrashing (how can one when one is going to be on the receiving end oneself in a moment), but he had found it absolutely fascinating to watch. He stepped forward smartly, pulled his shorts and boxers down and took up the position. Six strokes later he, too was in agony and displaying the brightest scarlet bottom that either of the other boys had ever seen.
"Dad, I really am truly sorry. Thank you very much".
Christopher turned to leave. As he did so he spoke rather more gently. "Well, boys, you all took your punishments immensely well. We'll forget about this unfortunate incident. Fortunately for you, Mum doesn't know about it and there is no reason why she should. As for you Oscar, I'll leave it to you to decide whether to tell your father."
"That's very kind off you, but I think I ought to tell him. After all, he could hardly say I hadn't been properly punished."
"OK. I he wants me to confirm that you have been adequately dealt with he just has to give me a ring. I'll leave you to recover. See you later". And out he went.
"God your dad's cool Andy. I mean that was the hardest I've ever had and he must have been really furious, but he was so nice afterwards. You're really lucky."
"I know, he may be one of the hardest whackers around, but he's also the fairest. Hey Paul, you were really great the way you took yours, and you're not even eleven yet. Well done."
"Thanks Andy, it wasn't easy, but I'm glad I've done it. With any luck, when I start getting the slipper in September, I should be able to take it as well as you two."
"OK lads", said Andrew, "let's compare bums", and he undid his shorts and pulled them down. The others followed suit.
All three bottoms were a predominantly deep scarlet colour. But the older boys' were tinged with a bluish bruising. There was no doubt that their beatings had been the most severe of their young lives. Paul did not have the bruising, but, as with the others, the appearance of his bottom demonstrated a more painful spanking than he had ever endured before.
"Wow, Paul", said Oscar, "your bum's red enough to have had the slipper. It must have well hurt."
Paul blushed at this compliment (as any 10 year old boy would have described it). "I don't mind saying that it was pretty bad, but there's no way it was as bad as yours and Andy's".
Ever optimistic, the two older boys agreed that they should conserve their energies for what might happen after the tennis club dance. Although both were sorely tempted, they managed to get to sleep that night without breaking their resolution.
It had been decided that the Parton household would go to the 8 o'clock service on the Sunday morning, so that Mrs Parton would have time to prepare an early lunch before the great tennis match. In the Barn, Andrew (being a farmer's son) rose first. Oscar looked through bleary eyes as the sound of his friend getting up roused him. The first thing he made out as his senses recovered from sleep was Andrew's small, slim, slightly rounded bottom as his friend was removing his pyjama trousers. The bruising was certainly dramatic. Oscar thought back to the events of the previous day. In an instant he was fully erect. His hand automatically drifted down to start work, but then he remembered what he was hoping to achieve with Julia later in the day and, with a sigh, he withdrew his hand.
"Bloody hell Andy", he muttered, why do I always have to get such a hard on in the early mornings?"
"I know, it's so annoying isn't it? Just when you're ready for a great wank, you have to get up and dress. It's always happening to me too." His pyjama trousers discarded, he turned to look at Oscar.
"Wow, I can see you're not exactly flabby yourself. Hey, let's measure each other before they go down". Oscar jumped out of bed, revealing his own organ standing firmly to attention and jutting out of the pyjama flies. He undid his pyjama trousers and pulled them down. Both boys had certainly come a long way since their first experiment following Oscar's introduction to the slipper at the age of 11. Each now had wisps of hair forming around his penis. And both penises had grown considerably over the previous 22 months. Andrew fumbled in the bedside table drawer and pulled out the ruler which he had secreted there for just this use. With Oscar standing in front of him, he knelt down and placed the ruler against the erect organ.
"Cool, Oscar, four and a half inches, maybe a bit more." He rose and handed the ruler to Oscar, who knelt and measured his friend's.
"Wicked, yours is the same length. That's half an inch in a month. I wonder how big they'll grow to eventually."
"I don't know, but I'll tell you one thing for sure: they're certainly big enough for Mandy and Julia."
After a cold shower the boys calmed down. They got dressed and went to breakfast, trying to think good honest pure thoughts in preparation for church.
Breakfast was the usual large spread of eggs, bacon, sausages, black pudding and fried bread. Oscar often wondered how it was that Andrew and Paul stayed so slim despite having these constant feasts every day. But he laid into it with just as much enthusiasm as them.
After church, and another large meal at 12 o'clock, the Parton's and Andrew piled into the people carrier and set off for Longhampton. The club was based in the sports fields of the boys' school. The cricket pavilion was to be used as changing rooms. The home team's room, on the left, was for the boys and the away team's room, on the right, for the girls. Registration was taking place in the main school lobby. When they arrived, Andrew was deputed to go and register them while Oscar went to get changed.
There was one other boy at the registration desk. He was Tim Blair, Mandy's younger brother. Like his sister, Tim's birthday was in September. Indeed, he was almost exactly a year younger than Mandy and only a few weeks younger than Andrew and Oscar. But, because his birthday fell after the magic date of 1st September, he was in the year below them at school (and was playing in the Under 12s boys' singles final). He shared his sister's good looks and athletic build. He was about the same height as Andrew, with short dark hair, long legs and muscular slim body.
As Tim was in the year below Andrew, the two boys had not, until recently, had enough contact with each other to become friends. Since joining the tennis club, however, Andrew had felt able to talk occasionally to the junior boy. And there was also, of course, the fact that Tim was Mandy's brother. That gave Andrew an added incentive to be pleasant to him. They greeted each other warmly and, having registered for their matches, strolled together to the pavilion to get changed. By the time they got there, Oscar had already changed and they had the boys' room to themselves. They unpacked their bags and started taking off their shirts, shoes, socks and jeans. Neither boy was embarrassed by nudity and so it was that Andrew saw that he and Oscar were not the only competitors that day who were sporting the signs of recent punishment on their bottoms. Though not as dramatic as his own, Tim's buttocks had clearly been forcefully in contact with a slipper, and not that long ago. They were still at the scarlet stage, before the blue bruising set in. Andrew's guess was that the punishment had been given that very morning.
"Hey Tim, what did you get your whacking for?"
"Pretty close run thing actually. Mandy and I were out at a party yesterday evening. Dad made us promise to be back by 10. Well, it was a cool party and we didn't get back till 10.30. We knew we'd be in trouble, but we reckoned it would just be a grounding next Saturday afternoon and evening, so we took the risk. Well, Dad was really mad with us and said that he was going to ground us this afternoon, which would have meant missing the matches. We begged him to make it next Saturday (we even said he could add next Sunday to it as well). But he wouldn't budge. It was Mandy who finally persuaded him. She said that, if we didn't come to the tennis, she would be letting you down. He said he could see the point in that and he would think about it overnight and we should see him in his office before breakfast. So, to cut the story short, he told us this morning that we had the choice of being grounded today or getting whacked. That was hardly a choice. We obviously chose the whackings and that's why we're here."
"What, you mean Mandy was whacked as well as you?" Andrew asked breathlessly.
"Yeah, being a girl she only got smacked and I got the slipper, but Dad's pretty hard whatever he uses. I got three and she got four. She took it really well, almost like a boy would."
"You actually saw her getting it?" Andrew could not believe what he was hearing.
"Yup, it was quite funny really. What normally happens is that she gets it over her knickers first and then she leaves so that I can get it bare. Well, she was wearing tennis shorts, for a practice after breakfast, and lo and behold, when she's across Dad's knee and he pulls her shorts down, no knickers! So she got it bare as well. Her bum was well red at the end, I can tell you."
"Blimey, your sister really is cool. I can't think of many girls who would take a bare bum spanking just so as not to let down their tennis partners."
"Yeah, she's not bad is she. Mind you, she does fancy you more than any other boy. I think that might have had something to do with it."
Andrew blushed slightly at this wonderful news.
"Surely she can't fancy me. I mean, I'm nearly a year younger than her".
"I know, but you're pretty grown up for your age. Anyway, she definitely does. She talks about you all the time. What about you? Do you fancy her as well?"
"Course I do. She's wicked. Every boy in our year must fancy her."
"Yeah, well I reckon you're onto a good thing. Mind you, she is my sister, and I would have to beat you up if you went too far with her, but it'd be OK if you just did a bit of snogging, and I don't think you'd meet much resistance from her if you tried."
Andrew was still in his boxer shorts. He was conscious that the conversation about Mandy (and the sight of Tim's small red bottom) was beginning to cause a tenting effect in them. He turned his back on Tim to take his shorts down.
"Have a look Tim, you're not the only one who got the slipper instead of being grounded today". And, after Tim had expressed his admiration for the state of Andrew's bottom, the story of the driving escapade of the previous day was recounted.
Andrew was pleased to see that Tim, although now in his tennis shorts, was also unable to hide the state of arousal which the conversation had put him into.
"It's so unfair, isn't it? Why do we boys have to get stiffies at all the wrong times?"
"I know", said Tim, "It's always happening to me at times when there's no chance of a wank". He thought for a moment. He greatly admired Andrew and he actually hoped very much that the boy would become Mandy's official boy friend. Perhaps, he thought to himself, he was being a bit too protective of his sister. After all, there was no doubt that, given half a chance, he would want to go further than a snog with Emma, the girl he adored (from afar) more than any other. The pause went on for a minute or two. Then he spoke again.
"Look, Andy, you know I said I'd have to beat you up of you went further than a snog with Mandy? Well, perhaps that was a bit hard on you. Look, so long as she is happy to do it, I'd be OK about you letting her jerk you off. It's just that I don't think you ought to, well, you know what I mean."
"Don't worry Tim, it'll just stay in my dreams. Look, we'd better change the subject if we're going to be fit for tennis."
The first match of the afternoon was the Under 12s Boys singles final. Tim was playing a boy called Roger Thurston. Both were excellent players. The match was thrilling to watch and all the Partons and Randalls, who had also turned up, were gripped by it. The first set went to a tie break. Tim saved a couple of set points to bring the core to 7-7. He served an ace to be 8-7 up. Then it was Roger's serve. The first went an inch long. The next was deep for a second serve, but Tim just got his forehand to it and hit it straight down the line. Somehow, and those watching were amazed to see it, Roger managed to return it. But Tim was waiting. He had come forward and, with a leap in the air, his racket connected. The volley was a masterpiece. There was no Roger could get to it. Tim had taken the first set 9-7.
The second set was just as close. This time Roger won, again on the tie break at 11-9. So there was to be a third and deciding set. Tim served first. He took the first game to 15. Roger held his serve to love. Tim did the same in the third. Then came his breakthrough. He broke Roger's serve in the fourth and led 3-1. Although taken to deuce, he managed to hold serve in the fifth. The score was 4-1. Roger held the next game to 30. The core was 4-2. Tim served a series of aces. He now led 5-2. Roger was becoming nervous. He double faulted on the first point of the next game. On the second point his first serve was in, but Tim managed a good return. Roger attempted a lob. But it went too long. He was 0-30 down. His next serve was an ace. The score was 15-30. But he couldn't get to Tim's brilliant return on the next point. Tim now had two match points. The serve was good. Time returned across the court. Roger just got it back to Tim's forehand, and volleyed the return brilliantly. But somehow Tim got to it and managed to place the ball way out of Roger's reach. Tim had won the match.
Andrew, Oscar, Mandy and Julia were all watching together. All were delighted at Mandy's brother's success. They clapped manically. Andrew looked over to the other side of the court. Emma, the girl of Tim's dreams, had been watching. He was pleased to note that her excitement at Tim's victory seemed to be greater than anyone else's. He made a mental note to let Tim know that there could be no doubt she fancied him.
The Under 13s mixed doubles were next. Andrew was going to serve first. Oscar was receiving. Mandy went forward to the net and bent to allow her partner to serve above her head if he wished. He bounced the ball twice and looked forward. He started as he saw Mandy bending in front of him. She was wearing the scantiest of tennis shorts and they had ridden slightly upwards. He could clearly see about half an inch above the crease dividing her slim legs from her wonderfully pert bottom. Sure enough, the flesh was that familiar pink colour that could only be brought on by a good spanking. He quickly averted his gaze. He knew that he must concentrate on the game and put all thoughts of Mandy's magnificent body out of his mind.
I will not give a ball by ball account of the match. It is enough to say that it was incredibly tense and close. Andrew and Mandy took the first set 6-4. Oscar and Julia took the second set 6-3. The final set went to a tie break. And it seemed for a while that it would never end. Then, on Andrew's serve, Oscar managed an unreturnable forehand smash. Oscar and Julia were now leading 16-15. And it was Oscar's serve. He didn't muck about. He tossed the ball high in the air and smashed it down hard. It went right down the middle. Andrew lunged for it, but no one could have connected to it. Oscar and Julia had won the match with an ace.
Of course, Andrew and Mandy were disappointed. But they knew they had played well and they good sportsmanlike English children. They heartily congratulated their friends. Julia leant across the net and gave a light kiss on the cheek to each of her opponents. Mandy did the same to Oscar and Julia. Then, absolutely instinctively, she turned to her partner and kissed him too. It was a mere peck, but it was the first and there is, perhaps, nothing sweeter than the first kiss. Andrew smiled widely and lightly touched the cheek on which the kiss had been planted. He sighed with the deepest of pleasures.
The next match was the girls' Under 15s singles. Although the players were undoubtedly pretty, neither Andrew nor Oscar had thoughts for anyone else but their own partners. Mandy and Julia were not much interested in following the game either. After the first few points, all four wandered off towards the pavilion. They naturally broke into pairs. Andrew and Mandy were a few yards ahead of the other two. They discussed their match and what they could do to improve. As they got close to the pavilion, Andrew changed the subject.
"Look, we don't have to get changed yet. Do you fancy a walk over towards the woods? They're normally out of bounds to us, but seeing it's a Sunday the rule doesn't apply."
Mandy's heart leapt. Tim had not had a chance to talk to her between changing and playing his match. If he had been able to do so, he would have told her that Andrew had admitted that he fancied her. But she still did not know and this sign of affection, for that was surely what it was, gave her immense pleasure. She readily agreed. Andrew called back to the others to say they were going for a walk. Oscar and Julia said they would stay at the pavilion. In fact, rather than getting changed, they sat side by side on the bench by the cricket scoreboard and continued their own post mortem on the match.
As they walked towards the woods, Andrew began to tell Mandy about the Landrover and what had happened later. He would never, normally, have dreamt of telling a girl about a slippering. But knowing what he did about what had happened to her in the morning, he felt able to do so. He did not let on that he knew about her spanking. He reasoned that she would tell him if she wanted to and that, if she did not want him to know, it would hardly advance his prospects to reveal that her brother had already told him. When she heard about the severe thrashing he had undergone in order to be able to play tennis with her, he went even higher in her estimation than before.
"God, Andy, six with a slipper must be absolute agony. Tim once got four after his form master wrote to Dad about something he'd done at school and he said it was the most painful whacking he'd ever had."
Andrew smiled. "Old Charlton's still up to his tricks then. He was my form master when I was in 1A. The first time he wrote to my dad rather than giving me a detention I thought he was just being kind, but you soon work out that all he's doing is making sure you get a good whacking at home. The boys whose dads don't whack always got detentions, but I hardly ever did."
They walked on in silence for a few moments. Then, after giving the matter some thought, Mandy decided to tell her own story.
"You'll probably hear from Tim anyway, so I might as well tell you myself, so long as you promise not to tell anyone else."
"Course I promise. I'd never reveal any of your secrets."
"Well, this morning I got the same as you. Well, not exactly, obviously. I mean I didn't get the slipper. But Dad smacked my bottom this morning for being late back from a party last night. He gave me four. The worst thing was that he took my shorts down, like he always does, but I wasn't wearing any knickers. So I got it bare, which I haven't had from Dad for yonks. I've had the back of the hairbrush from Mum a couple of times recently, and that was bare, but Dad's always let me wear my knickers."
"That's gross", said Andrew (who was not thinking that at all).
"Oh, it wasn't that bad. After all, Tim always gets it bare. Actually, he got three with the slipper as well this morning. He saw me getting mine, so he let me look at his bum afterwards. It was well bad, I can tell you. Still, it won't have been as bad as yours".
When they got into the woods, the young couple found a fallen tree trunk to sit on. At first, they sat a few inches apart, hands on their laps in front of them. Then Andrew (saying to himself "nothing ventured nothing gained") gently put his left arm round Mandy's shoulder. She made no move to resist. Indeed, she put her own right arm round his waist. They stayed like that for five minutes or so. Then Andrew leant towards her and kissed her cheek. She turned towards him and, again very gently, placed her lips on his. Then she parted her lips slightly. He did the same. Their tongues came into contact. He pulled her closer to him. They were still sitting side by side on the log. He wanted to hold her with both arms around her. He gently pulled her to her feet as he rose at the same time. Soon, they were standing entwined together enjoying the longest kiss imaginable. Andrew's left arm was round her shoulder. His right was round her waist. He pulled her firmly to him, hand on the small of her back. She responded. He allowed his right hand to drop a little lower. Now it was on the top of her shorts. He let if fall a little further. He gently stroked that small mounds of her buttocks. Then he pushed his hand more firmly onto her bottom. He could feel the warmth of the flesh. Then he felt her hand on his own bottom. Soon, each was gripping the other's bottom firmly. Inevitably, he now had one of the hardest erections he could remember. But he wasn't embarrassed, although she could obviously tell what was happening to him. She made no move to break off the embrace. A few minutes later she did push him slightly away from him, but it was only so she could speak.
"God, Andy, this is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"And me too", he gasped.
"If you absolutely promise not to take advantage of me, would you like to look at the spanking marks on my bum?"
"Wow, are you sure? That would just be so cool".
She pulled away from him, turned and undid her shorts. She pulled them down at the back. As in the morning, she was not wearing any knickers. He gazed down in total admiration at the prettiest bottom he had ever seen. It was as slim as a boy's, but there was a slightly more marked roundness to it. Both cheeks were uniformly pink from the spanking she had had a few hours before. He guessed they would have been red a little earlier, but the marks were now fading. He allowed his right hand to creep forward and gently placed it on the firm warm flesh.
"God, Mandy, you've got the _s_e_x_iest bum in the world.".
She pulled up her shorts and turned round again.
"Well, lover boy, what about showing me yours?"
He, too, turned to pull his shorts down. He wore no underpants. Unlike her, he pulled the shorts completely down, to his knees. He glanced down at his incredibly erect member ("I wouldn't be surprised if it's five inches now" he thought to himself). He heard her gasp as she saw the vivid bruising. Then he felt her hand stroking the cheeks of his bottom.
"Talk about _s_e_x_y bum", she said, "yours is just the greatest. If only the rest of my form could see me now. They would be so jealous." She inched forwards. She kept her left hand on his bottom and put her right arm round his waist. Then her hand dropped an inch and he felt her fingers on the tip of his penis. "Remember, I've got a brother your age. I know what you like doing when you're on your own. Would you like me to do it for you?"
"Oh God, Mandy, please."
Slowly, her hand began to grip it. Just as slowly, she started to pump it up and down. He jerked backwards and forwards as she did so, desperately trying to speed it up, but knowing how much better it would be if it was drawn out.
"Come on", she whispered, let's lie down on the ground.
They sank to the ground. He lay on his back. She gripped him harder and pumped just as slowly and rhythmically. With her other hand, she gently stroked his testicles. Gradually, she increased the tempo. Finally, as he moaned louder and louder, she felt it start to throb. He sighed deeply and a stream of creamy liquid spurted out.
This, thought Andrew, must be what heaven is like. He closed his eyes and smiled.
They lay together, side by side, for about ten minutes. Then, reluctantly, they agreed that they had to get back and changed. She pulled his shorts up for him and did them up. They brushed each other down and started back to the pavilion.
The dance later that evening was a great success. Andrew and Mandy, Oscar and Julia and Tim and Emma were inseparable couples. By the end, all three boys had discovered the true delights of "snogging". But the event was well policed by sports masters and mistresses and nothing more could be achieved. It had been agreed that Andrew would stay with the Randalls for the night, to save his parents having to drive into town to collect him. The car turned up on the dot of 10 o'clock and, with a last lingering kiss for Mandy and Julia, the two boys jumped in.
Oscar had still not told his father about the Landrover incident. When they got home, he decided to do so. Andrew took his bag upstairs to his friend's room and waited.
Ten minutes later Oscar appeared.
"How did he take it".
"He was well cool. He said that he was going to thank your dad for giving me the whacks, but he was happy not to take it any further than that. He actually asked me who was harder, him or your dad."
"What did you say?"
"Well, I told him that as he'd never given me six with the slipper it was difficult to be sure, but that after four I thought they were about the same. That seemed to please him quite a bit. Now, tell me what you got up to in the woods."
Andrew did just that. Oscar was desperately envious, but very pleased for his friend. He was determined that, before the Summer was out, he would achieve the same with Julia.
The boys undressed and, with a final admiring glance at each other's bruised bottoms, slipped under the bedclothes to enjoy some solitary pleasure.
Oscar certainly did enjoy his solitary pleasure. But I wonder if the enjoyment might have been even greater if he had been able to witness a conversation taking place in another bedroom a few streets away. Mandy was spending the night with the Braithwaites. She and Julia were sharing a room. Their conversation, or that part of it which would have interested Oscar, began in exactly the same way as the similar conversation in the boys' room. Julia asked the question.
"Come on Mandy, do tell me, what did you and Andy get up to in the woods?".
The girls were the closest of friends and they had no secrets from each other. Mandy told the whole story.
"Honestly, Julia, his _c_o_c_k_ was just so incredibly hard and big. Squeezing and pumping it was just out of this world. He was absolutely helpless, moaning and so on. The climax was the wickedest thing ever. It really throbbed and the stuff squirted out all over his tummy."
"God, I wish I'd had the opportunity to do it with Oscar. When we were hugging and snogging I could tell his _c_o_c_k_ had gone hard, but there was nowhere we could go to do it. Do you think he'd have let me jerk him off?"
"Course he would. Tim once told me that all the boys fantasise about being jerked off by girls. You needn't worry, as soon as you get him alone somewhere private, you'll get your hand round his _c_o_c_k_ in no time. Course, it was really easy with Andy because of how he'd been whacked and I was able to ask to look at his bum (and that bum is just the _s_e_x_iest you can imagine). Once he'd dropped his shorts it was just inevitable. Look, I'll get Andy to tell me next time Oscar gets the whack (they always tell each other about that apparently) and then you must pounce".
"That would be just so great. I'm almost tempted to try to get him into trouble."
"Hey, that's not a bad idea. We could get them both into trouble at the same time. Then, after they've been whacked, we could beg them to show us their bums. It'd be well cool if you could jerk Oscar off while I'm jerking Andy off at the same time. Maybe we could all do it together, in the same place."
"That would be a bit rough on the boys, I mean making them have whackings, but it's a wonderful thing to dream about."
"Honestly, Jules, the boys wouldn't mind. They get whacked quite a bit, so they're used to it. Obviously they must hate it when it's happening, but what we'd do to them afterwards would definitely make up for it. Anyway, Tim tells me that he always has his best wanks after he's been whacked. Just think how much better it would be for them if we were doing it to them."
And so, a plan was made.