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The following story is fiction.  It contain scenes of humiliation, spankings and sex.  If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

After I published Big Brother's Keeper I got an email from Pip saying that was essentially what happened to him and his mate, Mickey, just before their fourteenth birthdays.  He admits that if this had not happened, then shortly they probably would have been before the juvenile court and confined to an approved school (reform school) where they would have been the victims of a lot worse.  There were two results of our communication; first this story which is based on Pip's real life plus some fictional enhancements.  Second and far more important, it has gotten Pip, Michael, Paul and Steve to get together and start to work out their hurts and guilt from almost forty years ago.

The story is about seventy-five percent real with some minor changes for literary flow.  The one major addition is of shaving because I think that should have happened.  Stephen is now a bit disappointed that they did not think of doing it.  Back then the British Pound Sterling was about US$2.80, Pip's father was getting £10 a week and a visit to the cinema was just 3p.  The US minimum wage was $1.25/hour.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.

Click to have ​Metric units​ (​American/English units​) used in the story.

Our Younger Brothers, Our Caretakers  (1/2)


A sweet – a nineteen pence (US$0.38) chocolate bar – which I never even tasted – was the turning point in my life.  I had slipped it into my pocket and walked out of the sweet shop.  I was with my next door neighbour and lifetime buddy, Mike who had done the same thing.  We always did the same things!  That constantly got us in trouble the same way.  The shop owner saw us stealing again this time and knowing our parents rang them up.  Our mothers were waiting for us at home.  The ill-gotten sweets were immediately confiscated.  We both quickly lost our trousers and got well beaten down our legs with big wooden cooking spoons.  First our own mums beat our right legs from the knee to the top of our arse crack and then the other Mum did the left side.  I was glad that I was wearing tight brief pants which kept my balls out of harms way as those heavy wooden spoons danced up and down my inner thighs as well as the backs and, of course, kissed my bum a lot.  Furious as they were, they were not gentle and we both yelled like little boys from nursery school rather than fifteen-year-old fourth formers.

I was immediately exiled to my room to wait for father's return.  As I went up the stairs I had to go past my brother, Pauly, and Michael's brother, Stevie, who had been watching the entire show, without my trousers.  It was not that they had not seen everything many times before but it was still shameful.  Mike's mother led him back to his house by his ear, who carried his trousers in her other hand.  Our Cheshire Cat imitating brothers were mates, like we were, although thirteen months younger.  Since our houses were mirror images and our parents were very much alike it was like we were twin families.  As families we were very close and since we spent so much time at each other's house, it turned out that we effectively had two sets of parents who frequently found cause to whack our arses.  Our parents conferred on punishments for the four of us generously in a strange mix derived from our fathers' military service and strict observance of Proverbs 23:12.  It is fair to confess that both Mike and I were hellions and were frighteningly close to being hauled before the juvenile court and sent to Borstal (well, an approved school at the very least).  Since both of us were runts – I was only ​5′3″​ (​160 cm​) and Mike, ​5′1″​ (​155 cm​) – you can imagine what would have happened to us there.

A few minutes later Pauly came to our room.  By now I was wearing only my vest, pants and socks in accordance with the standing rule that we must strip to our underwear when waiting for punishment.  He was greatly enjoying a large piece of chocolate.  "I would let you have some but mother has expressly forbidden that you taste of stolen fruits." he said most gleefully putting some on his desk for later where I could see it as we both did our homework.  He also told me that I was a stupid arse for being caught and particularly for such a minute gain.  Even then I knew he was right although I had no idea now right at that time.  I really hate to admit it but I have known that he is better than me in most ways, for as we grew older it became more noticeable for my age advantage diminished.  He was larger physically in every way with a lot of self-confidence so that he was better at sports, social interactions and even started puberty only a half year after I did so he was caught up sexually also.  Because I was such a fuck-up constantly into mischief, his grades were even better, even though I was really smarter.  None of us were dummies since we all did well enough on the eleven-plus to get into grammar school.

After supper, Dad read me the riot act in front of both Mum and Pauly.  Then I had to remove my vest and pants and bend over the chair so that he could strap me with his heavy leather belt.  He was really mad for he swung the belt extra hard turning my bum into flaming red jelly.  I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming.  I was shocked when he stopped at only twelve.  The way Dad swung that strap, he raised wicked welts, just like those of a cane, that took days to heal.

This anomaly was quickly explained for Paul was then told to take me next door to apologize to Michael's parents for leading their son astray.  My dear obedient brother most eagerly took me by the hand and started for the front door.  He would have lead this convicted felon along the public highway had Dad not told him to use the back door.  As soon as we were outside the door, he let go of my hand and grabbed hold of my prick using it to pull me along like Michael's mother had pulled him by the ear.  I tried to stop this but he gave me a squeeze and a twist and I accepted his control to avoid the pain he could easily inflict on me.  I guess I should point out that I was a runt and Paul was at least ​five inches​ (​thirteen cm​) taller already.  After I apologized, Michael's dad strapped me just like Dad had done with everyone watching.  Then the four of us went back to my house where Michael apologized to my parents and got his second strapping from my dad.  Stephen lead him back and forth the same way that Paul had lead me.  We both got a total of twenty-four very hard whacks that was the standard dose from our fathers© YLeeCoyote

Then the bombshell hit.  I was going with Mum in the morning to get school shorts!  I was no longer allowed to wear long trousers at all, period!  My mind started to boggle at the things what would happen being the only one in shorts in school other than the inconsequential first formers but more tortures were coming at me.  My allowance was cut twenty percent (making it less than my brother's) and I would have to pay for the stolen sweets, the shorts and the knee socks (have to wear them with shorts) at the rate of fifty percent of my reduced allowance until I paid off the debt from my crime and the extra expenses.  After allowing for an occasional a snack with the guys after school that left precious little for anything else like the cinema.  Don't even ask about thinking about a date.

The first stop in the morning was at the school outfitters.  Mike's Mum took us because my mum had other things to do.  The fitting room by the school shorts was closed for renovations and as his mum did not want to walk to the other side of the store, she ordered us remove our jeans and try on the shorts in the open.  We tried to object but she just pointed to three eleven-year-old first formers doing the same thing amidst their mums and sisters and wondered if they had tawses in stock.  We shut up, turned red and changed.  Michael's first pair fitted well but mine did not so I had to change to a second pair. One lass, who has been in our classes in primary school, was making selections at the next table was grinning at our embarrassment of being in just our pants without our trousers.  After getting four pairs of school shorts, twelve pairs of knee socks and two sets of garters each we left.

On the way back home, we stopped at the sweet shop.  Mike's mum apologized, thanked the owner and paid him for what we took while I made another entry to the account of what I owed.  I was also told to apologize and explain my punishment.  Finally, in the open shop, Mike's mum made us drop our spanking-new school shorts and pants and show the owner our thrashed bums that were colourfully welted from the previous night strappings.  Everyone in the shop accepted the invitation to look at our arses.  Mike's mother was indifferent that there were several young ladies there who took the opportunity to look at other things also.  Both Michael and I were so embarrassed that we did not, fortunately, get erections.

We were both taken to the barber shop where Mike's mum told the barber to give us short standard school cuts like before the war.  "It will be my pleasure, ma'am." the barber said happily as she left.  We had a long wait with lots of sniggers about our school shorts on a weekend when even the first formers did not wear them.  The walk home got even more nasty remarks.  Back home I was directed to do my homework and chores.

Monday morning came all too soon.  Dad dropped the four of us off at school.  Both Steve and Paul each had a letter for the Headmaster about Michael and I, respectively, and we used the main entrance.  When they showed the letters, we were directed straightway to the Head's study and he saw us immediately.  The letter informed the Head that we were in shorts – permanently – as punishment and that we were to be treated like first formers and punished severely for any transgression in the traditional manner.  We were barely on-time for registration and when we walked in were immediately greeted with laughs, then whistles, in addition to the vocal comments in admiration of our pretty legs.  As we walked down the aisles to get to our seats, we got several slaps on our bare thighs from our classmates.  When the master did call the class to order, it was evident that he had enjoyed the spectacle from his smile.  We managed to survive the next few class changes but got it in the refectory at lunch.  Our classmates would not let us sissy shorts boys queue up with them and forced us to queue with the first formers in shorts.  They, in turn, sniggered at us and even forced us to the end of the queue.  We could see our brothers in their queue smiling and enjoying our humiliation.

We were the very last to get through the queue and the only seats left were with some long trousered second formers.  They were very nice and invited us to sit when we asked.  We should have known better for two of them got up and had us in the middle on opposite sides of a table for eight.  We knew we were late and tried to rush but they would not let us.  Acting like Public School prefects with first formers, they insisted that we eat slowly not wolfing down our food and have some polite conversation like young gentlemen.  When we finished eating, we got up to go but suddenly found that we were pulled and pushed over the table so that we were each held by the two on the opposite side of the table.  "Not so fast shorts boys" said one loudly, "little boys in shorts must ask permission to leave the table."  The other two had gotten behind us and commenced spanking us with wooden rulers on our bums and upper legs.  Everyone in the lunchroom was watching and many were laughing.

"Please, may we leave the table?" we asked.  They made us sit down and ask again before granting us permission.  We could feel the burning eyes watching the red spots on our legs as we rushed out to our next class.  We were late and got a detention.

The Headmaster routinely dropped in on detention and gave about twenty percent of the unfortunates present one to three cuts with one of the canes.  We soon learnt that our dads' letter requesting strictness assured that we were always selected for this honour.  So this first shorts day the he came in and immediately called us to the front of the room.  We were reminded that our parents had requested that we be treated strictly, therefore, we were to get three cuts of the upper school cane on our pants immediately.  We both opened our mouth to object, but the Head immediately said: "One word from you and it is on the bare."

We removed our blazers (amazingly there were several helping hands to take them without our asking), dropped our shorts and bent over.  The Head wielded that instrument of torture with great skill.  We heard the swosh through the air and then the searing fire as it crashed into our flesh.  He alternated giving us our cuts and in less than three minutes it was over except for the red hot iron rods he left embedded in our bums.  "Next time it will be on the bare; get dressed and take your seats."  We recovered our blazers and sat down very gingerly.

Back home we examined the three parallel tracks which had already started to turn into welts.  Even our brothers were sympathetic for these welts were much greater than those delivered by our fathers

The next day in PE we were the centre of attention in the locker room.  Although canings were quite frequent our tracks were still of great interest.  Changing into our PE kit required that we remove everything and then put on our singlets, gym shorts (no pants in the gym) and plimsolls.  But before we could put on our gym shorts, we got pushed up again the lockers for inspection by everyone.  Just then the coach came by and stopped it.  It would have been better if he had not.  Everyone was ordered to go to the gym immediately and we were only in our singlets.  We and a few other blokes carried our plimsolls and put them on while sitting in our places.

Once in the gym, the coach made an announcement.  "These two were showing off their marks.  I don't want any interruptions in class about this.  Each of you will file past and have a look at these exhibitionists.  Then if there is any more interest, there will be another caning."  Mike and I had to bend over as the class filed past.  We did not get to wear our gym shorts at all that day but had to exercise in just our singlets and plimsolls.

It was in the bog a couple of days later when three of our classmates caught us at the urinals.  They treated us as we were first formers since we were wearing baby shorts.  This was treatment similar to that which we had frequently encountered when we were in the first form.  Obviously, we were in the wrong bog and would have to pay the price.  In less time than it takes to tell this tale, we were on our knees with our dickies still hanging out.  The three of them – all bigger and stronger – had their hard rods out and we had to suck each and everyone.  Before we were finished, a couple of more guys came in and demanded the same.  Fortunately the bell rang and everyone dashed for class.

It was a couple of months before the stealing incident that Mike and I had gotten into trouble.  We were effectively grounded (no funds) and were each home alone supposedly doing homework.  What we were actually doing in our respective bedrooms was wanking off while watching each other across the few feet that separated our houses.  What we did not see were our fathers coming home since they had walked, rather than driven, home.  They were standing between the houses talking when they noticed us.  I was almost ready to come when I saw Mike's dad enter his room.  I dropped my hard willy just as I heard my father yell my name.  It felt like a cheap movie when we both got busted.

Just as our dads started lecturing us, our brothers came home.  They heard the lecture (which did not matter) but also saw both of get caned.  We were made to lean out of our windows while our fathers gave us six of the best with their canes.  Right in line with Mike being caned by his dad was his brother.  When I got up, I saw that Pauly at been watching also.

"You'll get another six tomorrow and then three every night for the rest of the week." Dad declared solemnly.  Pauly was very nice about helping with the soothing lotion.  I found out that he was not so nice the next evening for he had asked Dad to show him how to use the cane.  Dad had instructed him some and then he got to practice on me for five nights for a total of eighteen cuts under Dad's careful tutorage.  Steve was able to hone his caning skills on Mike's bum.  It was a skill that we wished they had not learnt.

It was ten days later when Mike and I were sixty-nine-ing it in the shed when we were blinded by a couple of light flashes.  As we tried to see again, there were more flashes.  Our brothers had not only caught us, but had captured our indiscretion on film.  After the week of caning we were both petrified.  We lost our erections without even coming.  Our brothers talked cheerfully of the possible punishment that would occur – caning everyday for weeks; put into care; castration.  We were scared enough without their help and begged them not to tell.  They wanted something in return and they got our submission.

On our knees we begged that they would keep our secret and we said that we would do whatever they wanted us to.  Stevie, no make that Steve handed his camera to Pauly, er, Paul and stepped in front of Mike.  "Mickey, open my belt and zipper."  Steve's long trousers fell to his knees. We all could see that he was tenting his pants.  "The pants too, brother." he said softly.  Mike lowered them and Steve's hard cock sprang free and hit him in the face.  "Smile for the camera.  Paul, please take some nice souvenir pictures for Mickey.  I'm sure he'll want to remember sucking me for the first time."  The flash went off again.  "SUCK IT!" he snapped and Mike took his brother's hard cock into his mouth.  I knew that soon I would be doing the same thing with my own younger brother whose long trousers where already bulging in anticipation.  As Mike sucked, Paul snapped a couple of more pictures.  Then Steve grabbed his brother's head and thrust deeply in and started to shoot.  I saw a couple of muscle spasms and then he pulled out and finished shooting on Michael's face.  My brother took another picture.  "Very nice, brother, but I think you can do better after you practice." said Steve.

Now it was my turn.  I serviced Paul in the same way.  As I sucked my brother I knew that my life was taking a turn for the worse.  It was not what I was doing but why – my brother was in total control.

Steve then had another idea.  He told Paul to turn around.  "What do you see Pipsqueak?"

"Paul's arse." I answered.

"That right.  Now kiss it.  Once on each cheek."  I hesitated.  "Do it or you lick the crack."  I gulped and kissed my brother's bum – twice.  Of course, Steve go it on film.  Then Steve made Mike kiss his bum.

After a couple of weeks, they realized they could do something beside spanking us and getting blowjobs; they could fuck us.  They liked to do that even more but it was harder to setup without the risk of discovery.  I quickly came to like it when Paul fucked me.  Sharing a bedroom gave a lot of opportunities for sex games.

All the time both our brothers were working on ways to increase their control of us even though we were already totally committed to accepting their cocks in both our mouth and arses on demand and getting beatings from them.  Truth be told, Mike and I really helped them in this regard.  Since we had entered grammar school we had been bad boys constantly getting into mischief type trouble and not doing things that we should have like our chores and schoolwork.  Their technique was very simple and open but we did not see it.

Here's how it worked.  Most weekend mornings Mum or Dad would ask us what we were going to do that day.  My answer was usually to go out with Michael and then the cinema after supper.  Paul would answer with something like:  "Do my maths and history homework and then my chores.  After lunch study for the science exam on Monday.  If I finish early, ring Stephen and see if he has finished also so we can play.  And with your leave, father, after supper, go to the cinema."  Dad would make some approving remark.  This week Paul continued  "Pip, you haven't hoovered our room (or what ever my chore was that day) and you really ought to work on that term paper that's due next week and study for the two exams coming up."  Dad looked at me and I made some lame remark about doing that also.

Dad commented that he wondered who the "older" son was and said he was thinking about putting Paul in charge of me.  I nearly died when he said that but, to my great shock and relief, Paul rejected the idea.  "No thank you, father.  I am so proud that you think I should have such a responsibility.  But I don't think that it would be good to be your deputy in charge of my brother.  Pip would resent it, probably not listen to me and I would have to refer him to you for discipline."  Then he paused a bit and continued: "But, if Pip writes a sincere note asking me to do that and promising to accept my authority and you also approve, then I would be honoured to be his big brother."  I thought that I was safe but I was wrong as I would learn within the week.

"That a very wise and mature answer, Paul.  You are quite right that you must have the authority to go with responsibility.  Philip please bring your assignment book now."  That was when Dad started to watch me very closely.  He (and Mike's dad) checked up on us at least three times a week after that.  If I did not do all that he expected me on a day by day basis, I got strapped.

After we were put into shorts they got even stricter.  Mike and I realized that we would have to ask our brothers to be our caretakers as terrible was that was sure to be.  At lunch on Friday, the ides of April, the four of us worked out the text; actually, Paul and Steve worked it out, as follows:

Dear Big Brother Paul,

It is apparent that I have not been doing very well and even at risk of being sent to an Approved School.  I humbly request that you be my strict caretaker – mentor and disciplinarian – to help me to grow and mature.  I promise to be obedient, respectful and give deference to you to the very best of my ability and to follow your lead at all times.

Please help me.

Sincerely, your little brother, Pipsqueak,

/s/ Philip

Mike did the same letter with the appropriate name changes.

At supper, Paul quietly told our parents that I had sincerely asked him to be my mentor and he could not refuse his dear brother after they had encouraged him to do so.  After supper Paul took me over to see Steve and Mickey who's parents were out for the evening.  After stripping us, they explained to us that they were going to be strict and expected us to be totally obedient as we had promised.  We could expect to be strapped or caned for any failures at any time or place except church.  Further, they reiterated that they have even given each other total authority to act for each other which meant that we had to obey BOTH of them at all times just as our parents had traded authority.  We now had two more watchers with great power over us.

Michael and I were then reminded that we had gone through puberty two years ago when we were thirteen and that they had done when they were only twelve and half.  Doing that interim half year both of us had teased them about not having pubes.  They had decided that we should learn how that felt and that we should have to make up for that nastiness.  We were taken into the bathroom and were made to cut each other's pubes and underarm hair short with a scissor.  Then they wet us, covered us with shaving foam and shaved us smooth as little ten-year-old boys.  They thought that we looked very cute and told us that we would stay shaved until we were permitted to have longs again.  Almost every guy in our form had pubes already and we were going to be in shorts for at least two more years.  We were already being called babies for the shorts – this would make it even worse.

We were then taken across their knees like the little boys we were and spanked on general principles.  After all the strappings we had, this really did not hurt us but made us feel littler than before.  Then they fucked us because they liked to fuck us.  To finish up we stayed on our knees sucking them as they watched the game of the week on the telly.

When we returned home (I was still in my birthday suit) Paul told me to get ready for bed and then come back down and say good night to our parents.  I was not to put on pjs or anything else.  A few minutes later, I came back downstairs and said good night from the doorway.  Paul made me come into the room and with my hands by my sides say good night properly to our parents.  He then took me upstairs and tucked me into bed.  My parents never said a word about my missing pubes.  I never knew if they approved or not but they did not interfere with Paul's decision to keep me smooth.

By the end of the weekend, I knew – to my very core – that I was a little boy totally in the charge of my big brother who had the will, authority and physique to enforce it.  They asked our dads to write letters to the Headmaster explaining that they were in charge of us including the authority to use corporal punishment on us.

To be sure that I never would forget our new relationship, he made copies of my letter.  One went on the wall by my desk, one in the front of my notebook (next to my class schedule) and one in my locker (the combination to which I had to tell him).  This also insured that all our friends would know and many others as well in school.  Steve had to do the same with Mickey's letter.

Before the end of that Monday, the entire fourth form knew about the arrangement with our brothers.  It took the fifth form another day to know.  When Mickey's and my shaved pubes were exposed in PE everyone guessed why.  Now not only did I know he was in charge, but so did everyone else.

It was only two weeks later that one of our masters kept both Michael and me after class to talk to Paul and Stephen about our disrupting the class by giggling.  They were not pleased for it made them late for practice and they promised that we would be strapped.  (They were both in the first XI for soccer and cricket also in the first XIV for rugby.)  They made us tag along to start on our homework in the stands while the team practised.  The coach made them each do an extra couple of runs around the track because they were late.  Mike and I knew that we were going to have pay for that.  At the end of practice, the coach returned to his office but most of the guys stayed around.  We were summoned by our bothers.  First we got lectured about having disrupted class and then we had to remove our shorts and pants right in there in the middle of the field.  Our brothers then made us bend over and strapped us some twenty-five times in front of their team mates as their apology for being late.  Then to compensate for the extra laps our brothers had to run, we had to make three laps.  Yes, that was still without our pants and we were timed.  Based on our times I got another ten strips and Michael another twelve.

Everyone one went back to the locker and showers.  Michael and I had to wash everyone's back.  We found it erotic and both got erections which lead to us being called pansies.  One of the guys suggest that our brothers get us chastity devices to protect us and the world.  That put everyone into hysterics.

It was a couple of weeks later that we really caught it.  It was our third detention of the week so the Head decided that special treatment was necessary.  He announced that the baby minders were already taking home word that we were going to get three on the bare the following Tuesday before the upper school assembly service.

We were just about to resume our seats when he continued that the third detention in a week could not be overlooked, so then we would be getting the lower school cane on our shorts now.  I went first and bent over with my jacket off, shirt tail out and as he laid the first one into me he said "Six with this will suffice."  Even with my shorts and pants on it stung on the still unhealed welts from earlier in the week.  Michael suffered the same.

As much as we dreaded it, Tuesday and the assembly came.  Mike and I were first order of business.  We were escorted to the stage by our caretakers like we were babies.  Then the Headmaster lectured us for some time.  Our brothers helped us to strip by taking our jackets, shirts, shorts and pants.  They also gave us a warning.  We had better take this caning in silence or else.  If we doubly embarrassed them by yelling, we would have to make our way to our gym lockers without our shorts or pants and they would also cane us this evening at home.

I think I felt more naked then if they had taken my vest also.  Mike and I then had to assume the position holding our ankles and with our feet apart.  Of course, that let everyone in the upper school see our bum holes and dangling ball sacks.

Then everyone saw (once again) what the upper school cane could do to boys' bottoms.  The Head quickly gave each of us six of the best.  They hurt more than anything and we could not scream.  For the rest of the assembly we stood like sentries on each side proscenium with our hands on our heads and our stinging bums on show.

At the end our brothers returned with our clothes.  They promised that we would pay for embarrassing them with our public display to half the school although not with another caning tonight.  With the exception of just a couple of us, everyone considered this the most entertaining assembly of the term.

One of the other times we got it publicly from our brothers was in mid June.  We had two big exams the previous Friday and Paul had said I better get top grades or else.  Mike was under the same pressure from Steve.  These were the last exams before finals and unless they were good then even perfect results on the finals would not guarantee at least B's for the year.

The first period was English. I got an A- while Mike got a B+.  I knew that Paul would be satisfied with that but Mike would be kissed by Steve's belt very soon.  The second period was Mathematics.  Both of us got B's so it was the strap for me also.  It would be the second time we were going to get it publicly in school.

When the bell rang we both headed for the bog where our brothers had told us to go.  Since Mike was due two strappings, he went first.  He dropped his shorts and pants and leaned over the sink.  The Steve gave him ten hard cuts with his heavy belt in front of his and Paul's classmates.  Then I got my ten in the same manner.  Paul was cheered on just like Steve had been.  There were even calls for an encore.  Well, they got their encore for Mike then got seven more for his poor English grade.

We were sent off to our next class – PE.  When we changed we got inspected and it was evident that these marks were extra fresh.

That evening Paul and I showed our exams to our parents.  Paul had gotten an A, A- and a B+ in his tests that week.  Our parents were very pleased and gave him an extra shilling pocket money.  They were also quite happy with my grades and I also got an extra shilling and so did Paul for his hard work with me.  It seem ironic that Paul had higher standards and expectation for me than did my parents but he still accepted the extra shilling.

A few times my brother did not punish me with a strap or similarly.  The hot new James Bond flick, "To Russia With Love" had come to our local cinema and everyone was going to see it on Friday night.  At dinner I asked my parents and was granted permission to go as was Paul.  About seven, Dad called up that Steve and Mickey were here and ready to go.  It was then that Paul ordered me to stay home and do homework because I had been trouble for him all week and he had to deal with my masters three times that week.  I tried to plead with him and even mentioned that Dad had given me permission.  He told me to be quiet and that if I did not do as I was told I would get the cane every day for a week for insubordination and disobedience.  I knew he meant what he said so I resigned myself to the joy of the Merchant of Venice with particular care to the quality of mercy.

An hour later Dad came upstairs and came into our room to put out the light.  He was surprised to find me studying and I had to explain that Paul decided that I need more study time.  "I'll leave you to do your work then, son."  A little later Mum came up with a piece of cake and a glass of milk for me.

A couple of weeks later, when I asked about going to another flick, Dad turned to Paul and said "What do you think, son?"

"I think it would be fine, provided that he's willing to finish his homework tomorrow afternoon rather than going to the park, Father."

"That sound fair to me.  Pip, it is up to you to choose."

My brother had done it again.  He had tightened control over me and made our parents think he was being very generous and fair.  He had managed to establish a clear chain of command – Dad was the CO with Mum the Number One, he was the Sergeant Major and I just a lowly Tommy.  Everyone knows that a Tommy does not speak to the CO without the sergeant's permission.

It had become our last thing along with lights out for me to show my respected for my mentor by kissing his arse – once on each cheek.  This had become a pretty symbolic act for both of us and he never made me do it since the very first time in the shed unless he was recently showered.  There was something different tonight though.  As he did frequently, he bend over so that I could pay my respects, but instead of just kissing each cheek, I spread them and kissed his tight pink rose bud for the first time.  At the time it was just an impulse but now I realize that it was my admitting to him – and myself – that I was totally his to control.

Paul turned, lifted me up and hugged and kissed me.  Then he went and locked the door which was not permitted before putting me into his bed.  We just cuddled together both of us knowing that I had totally surrendered to him and that I was totally his.  He held me tight for a long time before fucking me.  It was our best fuck ever.

This marked the end to my own internal conflict about Paul's control of me.  I now truly accepted that he was in charge and he knew it.  I truly wanted to be his good boy and to please him by doing well in school, staying out of trouble and the like.  I even liked that he shaved my pubes for it helped me feel like I was a little boy in need of a care giver.  He was a bit kinder although as strict as ever.  I was happier after that.  It was not until years later that I was first able to verbalize this.

The end of the term came and all four of us got good reports for the year.  Admittedly, Mike's and mine would have been better if we had not messed up the first half of the year.  We both asked for permission to go youth hosteling for a couple of weeks on our own.  It would have been easier to get passage to the moon.  Our brothers kept a short tight lead on us for the entire summer holiday.  At times we were directed to practice our penmanship by copying Dickens, Shakespeare, Milton and, of course, The Bible; sometimes to study French and Latin verbs or the intricacies of quadratic equations.  Most of the time we had to stay with them and their friends as tag along little brothers that needed constant watching although it was only once that we were disciplined publicly like on the practice field.  Occasionally, we were permitted to go with our own friends but only after a long interrogation about the details.

There was one very special day that perfectly illustrates opening line of The Tale of Two Cities – "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times."  Twelve of us went on an all-day outing.  It was a «big brother / little brother» deal with six pairs of us.  Actually Timmy (twelve) and his cousin Ralph (seventeen) wanted to go and Timmy asked Kenny and his brother and soon there were the twelve of us – without a parent in sight.  Of course, every little-boy had promised to obey not only his own big brother but all of them.

As you would expect, Mickey and I were the oldest little-boys by at least three years although we did not look it since we were so short.  Later, when we went skinny dipping, we still looked young because our pubes were shaven.  Beside our brothers, there were two other fourteen-year-old big-boys who we had to obey.  Actually none of this really mattered because this was a fun day and our brothers had promised to prevent any meanness (a.k.a., bullying) by the others.

We took a 0600 inter-urban bus that went through the forest to, if you pardon the expression, the crossroad near the trail head. It took only an hour to get to the meadow by the pond so we were there at 0830 with all day to play.  We played various kind of non-formal ball games and silly races paired with our brothers.  Then later in the morning we went swimming.  Ralph really took charge and made all of us promise not to fool around and arranged that two big-boys were always on ten minute lifeguard duty.  "I don't want to have an extra bus ticket going home." he seriously explained.

This swimming was my down fall.  The day had been going absolutely great and everyone was having a fantastic time.  Tommy, a ten-year-old, was taunting me that I was older than my big brother and did not have pubes so I splashed and then dunked him.  Instantly two whistles blew – I was ordered out of the water.

In just a couple of minutes, I was facing a tribunal of eleven ranging in age from ten to seventeen – six of who I had promised to obey.  They were not interested in excuses nor reasons – I  was found guilty in just a couple of minutes.  Then they discussed sentence; there was no doubt that it was going to be my arse that paid the price.  The only question was how and how much.  Since a cane was not available it seemed evident that I was going to get strapped.  That is until Timmy spoke up.  "I think he should be spanked." he declared, "Dad would have spanked me for this."

"I thought that you had graduated to the strap, Timmy." queried his cousin Ralph.

"Most of the time but when I act like a little irresponsible baby, like Pipsqueak did, Dad still takes me across his knee.  He said when I act like a baby, I should get punished like a baby."

The crowd demanded spanking.

It was soon decided.  I was going to be spanked by Ralph and my big brother, Paul, and then get six with the strap from Tommy.  I did not realize what an awful thing this was going to be as everyone ate their lunch.  Right after dessert, I was across Ralph's lap with everyone watching.  He had raised his right leg up so that my arse was raised and my head was close to the ground.  Then he started and very methodically began to spank me.  At first it really did not hurt as much as when Paul was strapping me and then something changed.  I could not be stoic and accept the punishment.  Something about the position I was in made me feel like a was a little boy of five across my daddy's lap and I began to sob.  As Ralph continued I started to beg for mercy and made promises but Ralph continued to spank and soon I was crying.  I could hear the laughing from the other little-boys and the big-boys too.

I was pulled to my feet while I was still bawling.  This crybaby was made to stand with his nose to a tree for a half hour while the others played ball until the one-hour-wait-after-eating had elapsed.  Then, while everyone else was swimming I was required to stand in the hot sun and watch.

After swimming Paul got to spank me.  I could only vaguely hear was he was saying to me as he spanked me once again but later Mike told me that he had been telling me to be a good boy or else.  It actually seem to hurt more than when he used the strap and I was soon crying again.  When he had finished he gave me his belt and I had to beg Tommy's forgiveness and ask him to strap me while kowtowing.

Tommy took the strap and listened carefully to my pleas and then stepped behind me and let the strap fly as hard as he could.  It hurt and I yelled.  He laughed and swung again.  I managed to suppress a yell but only half the time.  When he helped me up, I was still crying.  He had a very big smile.

Soon it was time to clean up and hike back to the highway, flag the bus down and ride back to town.

Yes, just like Dickens said – "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times."  This day was definitely both.

Soon it was September and Mike and I started the fifth and Paul and Steve the fourth form.  They watched us very closely and we did well.  By the winter break, things definitely better.  We were all doing well and staying out of trouble so there was not any legitimate reason to beat us and they had gained more self-control and judgement and were less arbitrary.  We certainly knew that they were more than ready to punish us should be slack off at school or stray from the straight and narrow.  Our grades were good and we no long feared being sent off to an approved school for we were not getting into mischief like we had.

We found out that our parents really stuck by the sentence imposed for stealing sweets – we were condemned to be in shorts all the time until we finished school and then always at home after that.  Our brothers retained their control of us as per our agreement which hadn't any termination clause.

End of Part 1.  Go to Part 2

© Copyright A.I.L., June 12, 2001

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