(Author Note: This is the ninth story in a series. The characters and situations were introduced in the episode:
Camp Torowa Falls 1964 - 01: A Fair To Remember
Read that episode first!) Then read episodes 2 thru 8 before reading this one.
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Clang!

"God damn it!"

"Corey! What did you say?"

"Sorry, sir! I meant, 'gosh darn it'."

"That's better. Watch your language, young man."

"Sorry, Dad."

"Is that oil draining yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do I even wanna know what that 'clang' was?"

"Ummm..."

"Corey!"

"Nothing serious, sir!" said Jerry. "He just dropped the drain plug in the drip pan and some oil splashed on his face."

"Oh, okay," said Dad.

"It improved his looks, actually," said Jerry.

"Hey!" said Corey.

"I can believe that," said Dad.

"HEY!" said Corey. "Jeeze, no respect from my own father," he grumbled.

"Come out from under there, you knuckleheads," said Dad, chuckling. "It needs a few minutes to drain, and we need to talk."

Jerry appeared almost immediately from under the front end of the Ford Falcon station wagon, which had been driven up on to utility ramps so the oil could be drained. Jerry rolled his mechanic's creeper across the garage towards the workbench where Corey's Dad was sitting. Corey soon followed Jerry out from under the car, riding his own creeper.

The two boys were riding their creepers in an unusual fashion. Despite being short enough that the creepers could have easily supported their entire bodies, except for their legs, the boys were riding them so that they were only supported from just below the tailbone to the head. They were extremely careful to make sure that the lower curve of their buttocks never touched the creepers, the floor, or anything else - at least if they could help it. They did this because they had both been caned severely, just a few hours before, and they were still very sore down there.

"You bellowed, sire?" said Corey as he rolled his creeper over towards Dad's workbench. He was still trying to rub the oil that had splashed on his face on to his t-shirt.

"For crying out loud, Corey!" said Dad. "Don't use your t-shirt for that. Get a rag!"

"This t-shirt practically is a rag, Dad," said Corey. He picked at the threadbare garment that barely fit him anymore. He always wore old clothes when helping his father change the oil.

"Fair enough," said Dad. "But use a rag anyway." He picked up a clean rag from a box of rags next to his workbench and threw it to Corey. "Your mother will be very upset if she sees that. And I don't think you want to irritate her today."

"Is Mrs. Lane really going to skip our double dips?" said Jerry.

"Not skip them, Jerry," said Dad. "I believe the phrase she used after seeing your stripes this morning was 'defer them for a couple of days'."

"Oh..." said Jerry. It was clear from the look on his face that he'd hoped that particular threat would just go away.

"A couple of days is a whole lot better than nothing," said Dad. "Believe me, you do not want a hairbrush spanking on top of fresh cane stripes!"

"Did that ever happen to you?" said Corey, incredulously.

"Yes," said Dad, grinning wryly. "I did actually get that unlucky combination in one memorable day back when I was 11-years-old."

"Would you tell us about it?" said Corey.

"Hmmm," said Dad. "I don't think so, no."

"Okay," said Jerry. "Would you tell us about your service with the Navy in Korea?"

"Yes, Jerry," said Dad, smiling affectionately, "that I can do for you."

So Corey's Dad proceeded to tell the boys several tales of his service onboard the aircraft carrier Phillipine Sea during that vessel's Korean cruise from August 1950 through June 1951. Corey had heard most of those tales before, and never tired of hearing them. Even if he had, Corey knew that Jerry relished hearing war stories from any veterans, but particularly Korean War vets.

Damage control, William Lane's specialty in the Navy, was not the kind of glamorous military assignment that Hollywood makes movies about. But it is an essential job on every large vessel, military or civilian. If your hull springs a leak in the middle of the Pacific Ocean you can't phone up the auto club and have them send out a mechanic to patch it. The crew has to take care of it themselves, or the ship is going to sink.

Every crew member of every ship in the Navy is taught basic damage control and shipboard fire-fighting techniques. On large ships like aircraft carriers it is the responsibility of damage control specialists to see that the crew is properly trained in these areas and to direct damage control/fire-fighting efforts in an actual emergency.

One of the unique things about being a damage control officer on board a large naval vessel is that you get to know pretty much everybody on board. So even though Corey's father didn't have many fascinating stories involving his own exploits, he knew literally hundreds of stories involving others on board his ship: from pilots, to flight deck crewman, all the way down to the engineers in the boiler rooms.

Corey wheedled his Dad into telling his favorite story, about the time the Phillipine Sea went to general quarters because it was thought that the ship was about to be attacked by North Korean aircraft. The damage control teams were standing by to direct recovery efforts in case the ship was actually hit by enemy bombs. The air raid did not materialize, and Corey's Dad could never be sure if had been a false alarm or the real thing.

Corey had to admit that it wasn't the most riveting story his father told. But it was special to Corey because his Dad received a telegram the very next day telling him that his son had been born back home at the naval hospital in Oakland, at the same time the crew of the Phillipine Sea had been awaiting the potential attack.

Eventually the war stories petered out and the two boys were sent back under the car to put the drain plug back in the oil pan. After the oil change was complete, Corey's Dad told the boys he really did need to have a talk with them. The two lads stood in front of him as he sat on his workbench stool.

"Boys," said Dad. "Corey's mother tells me that she suspects that you boys have been.... well, that you have been masturbating in your room. Quite a lot, it seems."

"Dad!" said Corey, blushing. "We..."

"Now hush up, a minute, Corey," said Dad. "Both of you." He looked at the blushing Jerry, who had began spluttering his objections.

After the boys quieted down, Dad continued, "Look, fellas. I know it's hard for you to imagine, but I was once a 13-year-old boy, just like you are now." He shared a grin with the two boys, who were looking at him with expressions of sly disbelief on their faces.

"So I know young men have....urges, shall we say," said Dad. "Now I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that doing - that - will make you go blind, or make hair grow on your palms, or any of that nonsense people use to try and scare boys. But I do believe that doing it, at least to excess, indicates a weakness of character in a young man."

The boys had trouble looking him in the eye as he continued, "I wouldn't punish you for doing it, in any case. But Corey's mother might decide to spank you for it, at least if she caught you - red handed - shall we say." He shared a grin with the two boys.

"Now I don't know how she knows you've been doing it..." said Dad.

"Mom radar," said Corey.

"Possibly," said Dad. "She certainly seems to always know what you kids are doing. In any case, I strongly advise you to curtail... those activities... at least while you're grounded. If you really feel you must, I'd advise waiting until your camp out. That camping spot you told me about is - what - half a mile away?"

"About that, yes sir," said Jerry.

"I seriously doubt that her "mom radar" reaches that far," said Dad.

"How long are we gonna be grounded?" said Jerry.

"At least until Wednesday," said Dad. "You know I'll be out of town on business from Monday morning until Friday night. So Corey's mother will be in charge around here. If you make her angry enough you may find yourselves grounded until it's time to leave for camp, and there might not be much I can do about it. You would like to fly Jerry's new rocket at least once before heading off to camp, I take it?"

Both boys answered, "Yes, sir!"

"Okay then," said Dad. "If you guys can manage to behave yourselves for the next five days, we'll go fly our rockets next Saturday morning."

Breakfast on Monday morning was a somber affair. Jerry and Corey seated themselves gingerly at the breakfast table, since they were no longer allowed to sit on pillows as they had for lunch and dinner on Sunday. Corey's Mom had said, "There's no point in you boys having those stripes if you're not forced to feel them several times a day." The boys had their own opinions about this but wisely kept them to themselves, at least in Mom's presence.

A cold front had moved in through the night and it was raining, and probably would be all day. This meant that Corey's father was looking at nearly seven hours of driving, instead of the usual six hours it took him to drive from the Lehigh Valley in east central Pennsylvania to Erie, a city on the Great Lake of the same name, which was located in the far northwest corner of the state.

"Why do you have to go for a whole week this time, Daddy?" said Becky, as her father prepared to leave. She was always sad when her father had to go away on business.

As District Manager for the Erie Insurance Group, William Lane was required to report to company headquarters in Erie once a month. Usually these trips were for two or three nights. But occasionally it could be for up to four nights - an entire work week.

"Sorry, Princess," said Dad. "But there are some new laws taking effect in Pennsylvania which require changes to the way we write our auto insurance policies. Mr. Stanley and I have to attend a two day seminar on these changes, so that we can come back here and get all our staff and the local agents trained on the changes."

"Oh," said Becky, sadly.

"I'll be back before you know it," said Dad, brightly. He kissed his daughter goodbye, and then kissed his wife goodbye. "I'll miss you, my dear."

"I'll miss you too, William," said Mom. "Do be careful on the road, it's supposed to rain and mist all day."

"I'll be careful, dear. Don't you worry," said Dad. "Ready, boys?"

"Yes sir!" said Jerry and Corey, who were already holding some of Dad's luggage.

"Then let's go!" said Dad. He and the two boys dashed out the kitchen door, through the backyard - and the rain, and into the garage. Corey opened the garage doors so they could put the luggage in the cargo compartment of the station wagon.

Before getting into the car to leave, Dad put his hands on the two boys' shoulders and said, "Okay guys, I'm leaving the women-folk in your care. You two need to be the men of the house for the next five days. Do you think you can stay out of trouble - and manage to avoid burning the place down - while I'm gone?"

"Yes, sir!" said the two boys, with confidence and pride.

Dad hugged Corey and then, to the surprise of both boys, he hugged Jerry just as affectionately. "See you, guys!" he said as he got in the car.

The boys waved as Dad's car pulled away down the alley through the light, misting rain. "You have a great Dad," said Jerry. "Do you know that?"

"Yes I do," said Corey, brimming over with pride, "Yes I do."

The boys were given chores to do, so this grounding wasn't simply a "sitting around the loft instead of visiting with their friends" deal. On Monday the boys were required to spend part of the day cleaning the basement. They managed to stay out of trouble, but suffered a major indignity at the end of the day.

Corey's Mom decided that she wanted to keep track of the healing process of the boy's cane stripes, so she could administer their pending double dips at the earliest reasonable opportunity. This meant that at 9:45 each evening the boys were expected to report to her in the upstairs office. Each boy was required, in turn, to drop his shorts and underwear and drape himself over Mom's lap. She probed and pinched the stripes on each presented buttock, checking for tenderness.

On Monday night both boys yelped and groaned as their stripes were probed and pinched. All parties were in agreement that it would be cruel to use the hairbrush on the boys in their current condition. Although Mom did warn the boys that she didn't plan to wait until they were entirely healed.

The weather was nice on Tuesday so the boys spent the day doing yard work - mowing the lawn and trimming some hedges that needed it. Mom was happy with the job they did. At dinner, Corey asked Mom if they could setup Jerry's pup tent in the back yard later in the week when their grounding was over and sleep in it overnight.

Mom surprised them by saying that they could set it up that night and sleep out there if they wanted. There were just four conditions:
1) They weren't allowed to leave the property.
2) Their friends weren't allowed to visit them, even in the tent.
3) They had to come back in the house if there were thunderstorms.
4) They had to come back in the house to use the bathroom, even for "Number 1".

The boys agreed, of course. When they were out in the garage retrieving the tent, Jerry said, "I understand the first three rules. Even though my tent can handle thunderstorms, I understand your Mom's concerns. But what's the deal with rule #4? Why should she care if we water a bush out here?"

"She's fanatical about boys not peeing outdoors," said Corey, "unless they're in the middle of a national forest, or something."

"What happened?" said Jerry. "Did you get caught taking a leak on the front porch?"

"No!" said Corey. "I can be gross, but not that gross! I think she's just jealous because it's so easy for us guys to take a leak just about wherever we want with a simple unzip. Girls have to pull their pants down..."

"... and they have to squat," said Jerry. "How can she tell if we do it, anyway?"

"Mom radar," said Corey, "but even she has to sleep. Once we're sure she's gone to bed we should be fine. Plus the new moon is the next couple of nights - it'll be almost pitch black outside. Unless we're wearing neon underwear, she won't see a thing."

"How do you know when the next new moon is, anyway?" said Jerry.

"Oh, didn't you know?" said Corey. "I run a major burglary ring in my spare time. We do our best work on moonless nights."

"Har dee har, har," said Jerry.

Jerry's pup tent was set up to his satisfaction before it got dark Tuesday night. The boys duly presented themselves for examination at 9:45. Corey and Jerry still though they were too sore from their caning. Mom agreed, but informed them they definitely would get their double dips on Wednesday evening.

The good news was that no thunderstorms appeared overnight, and the boys spent the entire night in the tent. Everything looked good to Corey - tentwise - they should have no problems camping out by the creek the following week.

The bad news was that somehow Mom knew they had broken rule #4. They tried to deny it, but when presented with a Bible and asked if they would swear on the holy book that they were telling the truth, both boys grudgingly admitted to having relieved themselves outside.

Mom extended the boys' grounding through Thursday. They started to protest but stopped immediately when threatened with even more days of grounding. Mom had to work Wednesday, so once again she left Becky in complete charge of the grounded boys. Once again their protests were met with the threat of further grounding.

Before leaving for work Mom ordered the boys to put the tent away in the garage. She refused to allow them to use it in the back yard if "they were going to behave like animals". Their main project for Wednesday was to "clean up that pigsty of a loft that you call a bedroom". Mom would inspect it that evening when she came up to give them their double dips after dinner.

An hour after Mom left for work the tent had been put away and the boys were standing in the middle of their loft bedroom. It was a wreck, Corey had to admit to himself. He hadn't really thought about it much, but now that they had to clean it up... "Wow!" said Corey. "This is worse than I thought."

"You said it!" said Jerry. He was looking around, as if trying to figure out where to start the cleaning process. "How do you think your Mom knew we broke rule #4?"

"I dunno," said Corey.

"She didn't know," said Becky.

The boys turned to see Becky's head at the top of the stairwell. "You're not allowed up here without permission," said Corey automatically, "so scram!"

"How many times do we have to go through this?" said Becky, walking calmly up into the loft and sitting down on one of Corey's desk chairs. "Mom left me in charge. I have to come up here to check on your work cleaning this place."

"Yeah, well," said Corey. "We just got started. Come back after lunch."

"Can't," said Becky. "I'm going to the pool with some of my friends after lunch."

"What do you mean, your Mom didn't know we had broken rule #4?" said Jerry.

"Yeah," said Corey, "why did she accuse us of it, then? She seemed pretty sure of her evidence."

"What evidence?" said Becky, smirking. "Before you bozos came in for breakfast, Mom told me that she suspected you had broken that rule, but couldn't prove it. She told me that if she waved the Bible in your faces she could get you to confess."

The boys looked at each other in stunned silence.

"And you suckers fell for it," said Becky, "hook, line and sinker!" She slapped her knees and laughed in their faces. "And now you're both grounded for another day, and I'm in charge! This is just too good!"

"So," said Jerry, grumpily, "your little friends must be on the way over here to help torture us even as we speak."

"No," said Becky. "Patty has a dentist appointment this morning. We're just going to the pool after lunch. I'll have to torture you myself."

"What about that bargain we made last week?" said Corey. "You're supposed to leave us alone for the rest of the summer, remember?"

"I'm altering the bargain," said Becky, with a mixture of arrogance and smugness.

Corey and Jerry exchanged a look... arched their eyebrows.... nodded... then turned and advanced on Becky. The two boys had grabbed her firmly by the arms before she realized that she had lost control of the situation.

"Hey!" said Becky as they picked her up out of her chair. "Let me go, you bozos!"

"Your reign is over, Princess," said Jerry, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The boys carried the furiously protesting and squirming Becky over to Corey's bed and slammed her - gently, it should be noted - flat on her back on the mattress. They kneeled on the bed on either side of Becky, keeping her upper body pressed flat against the bed and immobilized.

"If you hurt me, I'll tell Mom!" said Becky, trying to put a note of authority in her voice, but clearly becoming scared.

"We're not gonna hurt you," said Jerry.

"We're gonna give you a choice," said Corey.

"What choice?" said Becky suspiciously. Her eyes darted back and forth between the faces of her two captors.

"Choice number one," said Jerry. "You agree to honor the original deal from last week - and to keep honoring it for the rest of the summer."

"And choice number two?" said Becky.

"Choice number two," said Corey. "We play house again, just like last week, except that this time I'm the Daddy, you are naughty widdle Becky, and this is your Uncle Jerry, who is very disappointed in you."

"I prefer choice number three," said Becky.

"Which is?" said Jerry.

"You big apes unhand me and go back to work," said Becky. "Meanwhile I do what ever I want in the torture department, otherwise I tell Mom about this and you both get killed!"

"No deal, Sis," said Corey. "If you tell Mom about this, we'll tell her about last Tuesday - all of it. Even if you deny it, can you be sure that Patty and Sue won't cave in if questioned by their Moms?"

"But..." said Becky, confused.

"It's real simple, Becky," said Jerry. "Either we can just get along, or we can all get clobbered for something that should be over and done with."

"It's your choice," said Corey, "but I warn you not to underestimate our powers of persuasion. We will make Mom believe what you girls did to us if we have to."

Becky was clearly struggling to make up her mind. She kept looking back and forth at the determined faces of the two boys. This went on for the better part of a minute. Finally she relaxed, flashed a guilty little grin, turned to Jerry and said, "I'm sorry, Uncle Jerry. What did I do to make you upset with me?"

"Well, young lady," said Jerry in his most authoritarian voice, "there's the matter of you playing 'doctor' with your brother and his friend."

"Oh, yeah," said Becky. "I guess I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry, Uncle Jerry."

"I'm afraid sorry isn't good enough this time," said Jerry. He and Corey had already released Becky. "Hands behind your head." She complied, and Jerry started to unsnap her pink shorts.

"Are you gonna spank me, Uncle Jerry?" said Becky.

"Yes, darling, I'm afraid I am," said Jerry.

Becky pretended to be reluctant, but cooperated as Jerry removed her shorts - sliding them up her legs and off - followed by her white panties. Jerry sat on the edge of the bed and Becky - wearing only a t-shirt - climbed over his lap, draping herself properly for her spanking.

"Do you think you deserve to be spanked with your hairbrush?" said Corey.

Becky thought about this, then said, "I guess so, Daddy. Just a little bit."

"Okay then," said Corey. "I'll go get the brush."

It only took Corey a minute or so to go down to Becky's room, retrieve her hairbrush, which was sitting prominently on her vanity dresser, and get back to the loft. By the time he got back, there were already tears in Becky's eyes and Jerry had reddened her backside nicely with his open palm as she squirmed on his lap. Jerry stopped spanking as Corey returned.

"Ready for the hairbrush, widdle Becky?" said Corey.

"No, Daddy!" said Becky. "Please don't! I don't want the hairbrush."

"Of course you don't want it, you naughty girl," said Corey. "But do you deserve it?"

Becky bit her lip and winced, then said in a whisper, "Yes, Daddy."

Corey handed the hairbrush to Jerry. "Give her six good hard swats with this on each cheek."

"Not twelve!" said Becky. "Please not that many!"

Corey knelt down and took his sister's hands firmly in his. "Are you sorry for what you did to your brother and his friend?"

"Yes, Daddy!" said Becky. "I'm real sorry! Please not twelve whacks!"

"Give her three on each cheek," said Corey.

Jerry began spanking Becky again, bringing the brush down hard on her left cheek, right cheek, alternating as the girl writhed and howled. After the sixth swat landed Becky was panting and red-faced, with tears flowing freely down her face.

Corey, still holding Becky's hands firmly but gently, said, "Are you ever gonna bother your brother or his friend again, if they don't bother you first?"

"No Daddy! Never!" said Becky. "I'll be good, I promise!"

"That's good, my dear," said Corey. Then he looked at Jerry, and said "Give her the last six swats now."

"NOOO!" Becky howled in protest as the first of six swats slammed into her already aching posterior. By the time the last swat landed, Becky was bawling, tears and snot dripping off of her chin.

After adminstering the final whack, Jerry dropped the hairbrush on the bed and began massaging Becky's sore backside with his right hand while his left hand rubbed the back of her t-shirt. Meanwhile Corey got some tissues and cleaned the tears and snot from his sister's face, allowing her to blow her nose.

After Becky cried herself out, she asked Uncle Jerry if he'd carry her back to her bed for a nap. Jerry draped the half-nude girl over his left shoulder and carried her downstairs. Corey followed, carrying her shorts, panties, and hairbrush. Then Daddy and Uncle Jerry gently tucked naughty widdle Becky into her bed for a nap and went back up to the loft to begin their cleaning project.

There was little conversation around the Lane family dinner table on Wednesday evening. It was obvious why Corey and Jerry were in a somber mood. After the dishes were dry, they would have to go back to their bedroom so Mom could inspect their cleaning job. But no matter what she found there, the boys would be getting spanked - double dips for the fireworks stunt from the previous Saturday night.

Becky had cancelled her afternoon swim with her friends. She would have had trouble explaining her still-red fanny to her friends if they saw it in the Women's Locker Room at the municipal pool. Mom was concerned about her, but Becky just said she didn't feel all that well. Mom checked her temperature with the old "back of the hand on the forehead technique", but Becky had no fever. Becky assured Mom that she was already feeling better and would be fine the next day.

Corey was glad that his Mom hadn't decided to take Becky's temperature for real, because the Lane family didn't even own an oral thermometer.

By 8 o'clock that evening the boys were back in their bedroom making last minute cleaning efforts, having already stripped back down to their briefs. Mom told them they might as well, because they wouldn't be leaving their bedroom again that night, no matter what else happened.

Part of Corey was glad the wait was almost over. Corey hated having to wait for a spanking. Of course, considering how sore he and Jerry had been on Sunday, it was a necessary evil this time. Corey rubbed his hind cheeks through the thin cloth of his briefs. The pain from the stripes was gone. But if you poked at them, you could still feel them. And his Mom was about to do a lot more than gently poke at them.

They heard footsteps on the stairs. Corey glanced at his alarm clock - 8:15. The moment of reckoning was finally at hand. When Corey's Mom appeared at the top of the stairs, each boy was standing loosely at attention next to his own bed. Sometimes Mom spanked Corey over the knee while sitting on a chair. But more often she sat on the edge of his bed and arranged him so his upper body was on the bed, with his bottom across her lap. The "over the bed" technique is the one she usually used for severe spankings - and this one promised to be a real doozy!

Mom reached the top of the stairs and entered the loft. She was carrying her hairbrush - exactly as expected. But she was also carrying a small brown paper shopping bag. Probably some sort of surprise. Corey hated surprises when waiting for a spanking - they never, ever seemed to be pleasant surprises.

Mom set the shopping bag down on one of Corey's desk chairs, and began her room inspection. She slowly toured the room, taking what seemed like hours, but was probably only a couple of minutes, and ended up near Corey, who stood next to his bed. Then she turned and beckoned to Jerry, "Come over to join us on this side of the room, Jerry, dear." As Jerry crossed the room, she added, "You sinned together, there's no reason you shouldn't be punished together."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry as he arrived. He stood next to Corey and turned to face Mom.

Mom looked sternly at the two boys, who were having some trouble looking her in the eye, and said, "The cleaning job is not great, but it will have to do. Come to think of it, considering how filthy this place was, it's not that bad a job."

Corey began to breathe easier. Perhaps this wouldn't be that bad after all.

"Now," said Mom, "you boys have had four days to think about what you did last Saturday night. Do either of you have anything to say to me about it?"

Corey and Jerry looked at each other, and Jerry indicated silently that Corey should go first. Corey looked his mother in the eye and said, "Yes, Mom. I've been thinking about it a lot and it really scares me. Jerry... or I... or one of my cousins could have been killed or maimed for life. I know I was incredibly stupid, and I'll never stand that close to a lit Roman candle - any kind of fireworks - again."

"That sounds very well thought out, Corey," said Mom. "But do you really believe it, or are you just trying to convince me to go easy on your double dips?"

"No Ma'am!" said Corey. "I really believe it! Mom... you know that I don't generally agree with you about the fairness of getting double dips."

"Of course, dear," said Mom, "I know that you and your sister both think that it's not fair."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Corey. "But in this case I do think it makes sense. The lesson in this case is so important that if you think another spanking is necessary to make sure I remember what I just said, then you should spank me as long and hard as you think is needed."

"Very good, Corey," said Mom. "Perhaps there is hope for you living long enough to give me some grandchildren after all."

"Thanks, Mom," said Corey, blushing slightly. It was one of his Mom's favorite complaints - that Corey would probably get himself killed stupidly before he got married and presented her with some grandchildren. What irritated Corey was the apparent message that it was okay for him to die young as long he had fathered some children first.

Mom looked at Jerry and said, "Jerry, dear, do you have anything to say about this?"

"Yes, Mrs. Lane," said Jerry. "I agree with everything Corey said about how stupid and dangerous that stunt was. It scared me too, right from the moment that Uncle Mitch was carrying me back to Uncle Karl's house. I realized I could be dead at that moment - and my blood ran cold. I was so relieved to learn that Corey and the others were still alive."

"Very good, Jerry," said Mom. "Then what are your feelings on the double dips you are about to receive?"

"Well, Ma'am," said Jerry. "I must confess to being shocked when I first heard about that particular... family custom. But I agree with Corey that in this case it is well deserved. I'm sure that my Aunt Betty and Uncle Owen would both give me a separate punishment if I did something this stupid back home. I honestly believe that you need to spank me as long and hard as you feel necessary... until I can convince you that I really won't do anything like that again. My life and the life of my family and friends could be at stake."

"Well," said Mom, "I'm glad to hear that you boys have apparently thought about the consequences of your actions for a change. Perhaps you're both growing up. Let's see what we can do to speed the process along. Corey, dear, I know how you hate to wait for your spankings - the wait is almost over. But I'm sure you'll agree that it would only be polite to let your guest go first."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Corey. He knew that would happen. Mom always spanked any guests or relatives first. Usually his cousin Walt, as it happened, but there had been others.

"Hands behind your heads, boys," said Mom.

Corey immediately complied, clasping his hands behind his head. As he did so he sneaked a glance over at Jerry. Damn! Jerry had already pitched a sizable tent in the front of his jockey briefs! That was gonna be embarrassing in a few seconds.

"Come here, Jerry," said Mom.

Jerry stepped over in front of Mom, and she immediately grabbed the waistband of his briefs with both hands and lowered them to his ankles. As she looked up again, her eyes focused briefly on Jerry's groin. "Enjoying this, Jerry?" said Mom.

"No Ma'am!" said Jerry, who was blushing furiously. "I can't help it, honest! This always happens to me when I'm about to..."

"...be spanked," said Mom. "Yes, I understand, Jerry. I'm not angry with you. Let's get you over the bed here."

Jerry moved immediately, and Mom guided him into place. Soon Jerry was laying over Mom's lap with his upper body on Corey's bed. As Jerry's bottom moved into position on Mom's lap, Corey could see the bluish marks covering the lower curve of Jerry's buttocks. He wondered how much more the hairbrush would hurt over the cane stripes. He'd find out in a few minutes.

Once Jerry was positioned, Mom picked up the hairbrush from the bed and placed it against Jerry's bottom. She rubbed it gently across the twin cheeks, which clenched and unclenched in nervous antipation of the spanking to follow. Mom said, "I know you will try to be brave, Jerry. But I should warn you that every boy I've ever spanked has been crying - really crying - by the time I finished with him. Are you ready for your spanking, dear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Jerry. He shifted slightly on Mom's lap, his final conscious preparation for the suffering to come.

Mom's response was to raise the hairbrush high above her head and bring it back down swiftly, smashing the hard wooden back of the brush into the soft, already-bruised flesh of Jerry's left buttock. This action produced a sharp Craackk! that echoed in the narrow loft bedroom. Mom kept the brush pressed firmly into the flesh there for a second or two, then raised the brush high above her head again. The second swat found the lower curve of Jerry's right buttock. Craackk!

Corey was all too familiar with Mom's hairbrush. It had been imparting it's unmerciful sting to his naked fanny since he was seven years old. Corey had bawled his eyes out every single time his mother had spanked him with the evil thing. Corey had never seen another hairbrush like it. Made of dark brown wood, the handle was just over 12 inches long, and about 3/8 of an inch thick. (Corey had sneaked into his parent's bedroom when they were at work a few years back and measured the thing with a ruler.) The "business end" of the brush, which was backed with relatively soft black bristles, was about 2 inches wide. The long, elegant handle tapered down to just half an inch wide before widening out again into an approximately one inch wide gripping handle.

As Mom continued to rain hairbrush swats down on Jerry's posterior, Jerry began to react to the increasing pain - and Corey counted the swats. Mom would have had a fit if she knew she was participating in gambling. Jerry and Corey had bet an entire week's allowance on who could hold out for the most swats without crying. Boredom and confinement during days spent waiting for punishment, combined with adolescent bravado eventually led Jerry to invite Corey to "put his money were his mouth was."

By the tenth swat Jerry was gasping and groaning, his legs and bottom twitching nervously as the boy struggled to retain control of himself. His success in this area caused Corey's Mom to make good use of the long handle of the brush, smashing it into Jerry's bottom with amazing force. Finally, at the nineteenth swat, Jerry reached his right hand out and slapped the bed three times - the prearranged signal that he had started to cry.

This signal was confirmed by the shaking of Jerry's upper body, indicating he was wracked with sobbing. Somewhere in the twenties Jerry's legs started kicking in protest and his briefs soon flew off - landing in the middle of the bedroom.

By the time thirty swats had landed, Jerry was howling with each new swat. Mom stopped then and said, "Have you learned your lesson, Jerry?"

"Y..yes, Ma'am!" gasped Jerry, between pants.

"Convince me!" said Mom, and the hairbrush resumed its busy route, flying high in the air, only to smash sharply again with a Craacck! on the bright red backside writhing over her lap. Jerry actually screamed in anguish at this renewed assault, and began gasping out apologies and assurances, between howls and yelps as the hairbrush struck again and again.

After a time Mom stopped again and asked Jerry if he could tell her why he shouldn't get any more swats. Jerry gasped out an apology and an assurance that he'd never play with fireworks again. It wasn't as well organized as his initial speech on the topic. Then again Corey always had trouble giving an eloquent speech when he was bawling, so he couldn't criticize too much.

"Alright, Jerry, you've convinced me," said Mom. Corey could see Jerry relax a bit at this, relieved that the spanking was finally over. "Just twelve more good hard swats as a final reminder!" added Mom.

"No!!" said Jerry, who tensed up again. "Please not twelve! Please, Mrs. Lane!"

"Oh, so you would prefer twenty-four swats, then?" said Mom.

"Okay, twelve!" said Jerry, desperation causing his voice to crack. "Please no more than twelve swats! Please, Mom!"

It took a second for Corey to realize that Jerry had just called Corey's mother "Mom." Mom looked over at Corey, winked, and then said, "Alright, my boy. Twelve it is!" And with that the final assault on Jerry's swollen backside began.

After Jerry's spanking ended, Mom helped him rise up from the bed, then pulled the boy in close to her - hugging him and rubbing his back as he cried himself out. As Corey watched his mother cuddle and comfort his best friend after his spanking - just like she had always done for Corey - he wondered if Jerry had ever been cuddled like this after a spanking before. Jerry always said that his Aunt and Uncle treated him kindly, but Corey couldn't see Aunt Betty as the cuddling type.

After a couple of minutes Jerry got up and was sent to stand next to Corey with his hands clasped behind his back. He wouldn't be allowed to rub his wounded posterior until after Mom was finished with them.

Then Corey was ordered to approach his Mom, and his briefs were duly lowered to his ankles. As he was arranged over his mother's lap and the bed, Corey found his face lying in the wet patch on his bedspread where Jerry had left his tears and snot behind. Great! No doubt Corey would be adding his own contributions in short order.

"Are you ready for your spanking, dear?" said Mom, as Corey felt the cool wood of the brush rubbing against his bottom.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Corey.

Craacck! The sting was startling, as always, but Corey kept quiet. By the eighth swat Corey was grunting and groaning audibly, and by the twelfth swat he was yelping. In addition to the normal hairbrush sting, Corey was aware of a deeper, duller pain in his bottom - probably the result of the partially healed cane stripes residing there. He also noticed that his mother was concentrating the hairbrush swats on the cane stripes. That hardly seemed fair!

Corey wasn't even sure when he started crying, although he was reasonably certain it was before nineteen swats. He even forgot to signal Jerry when he finally was aware of the crying.

Corey had a much bigger problem. He had forgotten to adjust his penis as he settled on his mother's lap. As the spanking progressed his dick got hard, which was its usual reaction - he could never figure out why. The problem was that his erection was trapped between his body and his Mom's leg. The friction as he writhed involuntarily across her lap was causing an unfortunate reaction. Soon Corey could feel the familiar sensation building in his balls. If she didn't stop right now.... "Mom! No!" gasped Corey frantically. "Please stop!"

"Stop?" said Mom. "My boy, we're just getting started." And she started spanking even more vigorously.

"Nooo!" howled Corey in desperation. But his reactions became automatic and uncontrollable at that point. He started moving his hips, thrusting his rigid member against his mother's dress. Basically he was humping his Mom's leg as the hairbrush swats continued to rain down on his unprotected rump. Then suddenly the orgasm was upon him. His body went rigid and he could feel his toes curl painfully as waves of ecstasy rolled though his body. Corey grunted out a series of short, barking grunts as his body spasmed and his rock hard dick pumped his teenaged wad into his mother's dress.

Mom stopped the spanking. "What the... you revolting little animal!"

"I'm s..sssorry, Mom!" said Corey, gasping as his orgasm subsided. "I couldn't help it!"

"We'll see about that, you digusting boy!" said Mom. Then the hairbrush went back to work with renewed vigor.

Corey began screaming uncontrollably as the pain seemed to double with the renewed assault. Soon Corey was unaware of the individual swats of the brush. Eventually Corey was aware of nothing but the glowing pain in his bottom, a pain which seemed destined to consume him from the inside. He was vaguely aware of pleading incoherently for his life, saying anything necessary to make the pain go away.

At some point Corey became aware that he was being cuddled in his mother's arms. He took comfort in the familiar sensations, the gentle backrub as he cried himself out. How many times had his mother comforted him like this after blistering his backside with her hairbrush? Corey was getting a bit old for this sort of thing. The wet, sticky patch he could feel on his mother's dress was proof of that.

The humiliation of having orgasmed on his mother's lap forced fresh sobs from Corey, and Mom responded by squeezing him closer to her and rubbing his back some more. Eventually Corey looked up in his mother's face. He didn't see anger there - only concern and pity for her firstborn. "I'm sorry, Mom," said Corey.

"I know, dear," said Mom. "I'm sorry too - for reacting like I did to your...accident. I realize you didn't do it on purpose."

"No, Ma'am," said Corey.

"Corey," said Mom. "Please promise me you'll never be careless with fireworks again."

"No, Mom! I'll never fool around with fireworks again. Promise!"

"Good," said Mom. "Get up, Corey." She pushed him gently off her lap and he remembered to put his hands behind his head.

"Alright," said Mom, after Corey had joined Jerry. "You two are still grounded until tomorrow. You better behave if you ever want to go swimming again - you've only used your pool passes twice since Jerry arrived a week and a half ago."

"Yes, Ma'am!" said both boys.

As his mother got up to leave, Corey saw the stain he had just deposited on her blue dress. He blushed in shame, although it wasn't noticable since his face was already bright red from his spanking.

As she headed for the stairs, Mom said, "I don't expect to hear a peep out of this room tonight. No music - and no wrestling!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Try reading, for a change," said Mom as she started down the stairs, hairbrush in hand. "Good night, boys."

"Good night," said both boys. They each began rubbing their bottoms, trying to get the horrific sting left by the hairbrush out of their throbbing, swollen backsides.

After Mom left the boys retrieved their briefs from where they had landed and started to put them back on - but they both changed their minds.

"Your Dad was right about the hairbrush on cane stripes," said Jerry. He was looking around, trying to see the damage on his backside.

"Yeah," said Corey. "And those were three day old cane stripes. Can you imagine what it would have felt like if Mom did that to us when we got home from Uncle Karl's on Sunday?"

Jerry shivered and said, "I hate to even think about it!"

"Yep," said Corey. "So I guess I owe you $2?"

"I think so," said Jerry. "You didn't signal!"

"I know, sorry," said Corey as he retrieved the money from his wallet. "I was too busy trying not to cream on my Mom's dress. I knew she'd go bonkers."

"She sure did!" said Jerry as he took the money. "I thought I'd have to tackle her to keep her from killing ya."

"Yeah," said Corey. Suddenly he noticed the small shopping bag his mother left on his chair. "Hey, what's in that bag?"

"Dunno," said Jerry, walking over to the chair. "Let's find out." Jerry picked up the bag and looked inside. "Socks!"

"Socks?" said Corey. "Hey, we were missing some socks when we cleaned today!"

"I remember," said Jerry, as he picked a rolled up sock out of the bag. "I guess these are the ones, but they're all rolled up and stiff and sticky. They're...."

Corey suddenly felt nauseous. He said, "They're the ones we've been rubbing ourselves with when we..."

"That's how she knows!" said Jerry. "We've cleverly been leaving evidence lying around our bedroom. Even the ones we used out in the tent! How could we have been so stupid?"

"I don't know," said Corey, as he stood there smiling wryly and gently rubbing his aching bottom, "but we've been getting a lot of practice at it lately."