(Author's Note: This is the first story of a series. This story is based on characters and situations introduced in the two novel-length series of stories: Camp Torowa Falls and Camp Torowa Falls 1964.
This story may be read separately, but for best results you should read those stories first!)
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"Good morning, Mom."

"Good morning, Corey."

"Good morning, Aunt Penny."

"Good morning, Jerry."

"Breakfast smells good," said Jerry.

"Thank you, dear," said Penelope Lane, Corey's mother. As she prepared to serve breakfast she glanced at Jerry and shook her head. "I still can't believe how much you've grown in the last year."

Jerry and Corey shared a grin and shrugged as they sat down at the breakfast table wearing their Sunday best clothes. For the second straight year, Jerry's family had met Corey's family at the New York World's Fair in Queens, New York. The meeting in 1965 was arranged for Saturday, June 26th. Jerry had traveled home from Queens with the Lane family the previous night, and would be spending a few weeks with them before the two 14-year-old boys had to head off for another summer camping season at Camp Torowa Falls on July 21st.

"It's only been about ten months, Mom," said Corey. "And I've grown quite a bit, too."

"Yes, dear, I know," said Mom. "But I see you everyday. The changes are much more obvious when you haven't seen a person for a year - or even ten months."

"I guess."

"Still, it is amazing," said Mom. "You're both springing up like weeds."

"Too bad they're not as smart as weeds," said Becky Lane, Corey's 12-year-old sister, who strolled into the kitchen at that moment.

"Rebecca," said Mom sternly. "Is that anyway to speak about a guest in our home?"

"Sorry, Mom," said Becky. "Sorry, Jerry." She stuck out her tongue at Corey when their mother's back was turned.

"So, what?" said Corey. "She can say anything she wants to about me?"

"Within reason," said Mom. "Don't try to tell me you never insult your sister."

"Only when she deserves it."

"Yeah?" protested Becky. "You always think I deserve it!"

"Well, you do always deserve it!"

"Alright, you knuckleheads," said William Lane, Corey's father, as he entered the room. "Knock it off before I brain the lot of you."

"Good Morning, Daddy!" "Good morning, Uncle Will!" "Good morning, Dad!"

"Good morning, kids!" said Dad. "I can't believe you're fighting already. Corey, didn't you promise to be more polite to your sister if we let Jerry come and stay again this summer?"

"Yes sir," said Corey, sheepishly. "But she started it!"

"I don't really care who started it," said Dad, his temper rising. "If you two don't start being civil to each other, I'll finish it!"

"Sorry, Dad," said Corey.

"You will be sorry, if I get the cane out," said Dad. He noticed Becky smirking at this warning and said, "You'll be sorry too, Princess."

"Me?" said Becky, a look of shock and disbelief on her face, "the cane?"

"Yes dear," said Mom, "you're twelve now. It's time to put away baby punishments. If you act up enough to warrant a spanking, you just might find out for yourself how much the cane can sting."

Corey grinned at the though of Becky getting the cane. The little brat thoroughly deserved it. Corey certainly knew how much his father's new cane can sting. Corey had been caned four times since getting home from camp last year, twice by each parent. A caning from Mom was no picnic, that's for sure. But a caning from Dad... sitting down was a real trial for several days after one of those. There was only one upside to a caning. "At least if you get caned you don't get double dips."

"Don't be so sure of that, young man," said Mom. "Just because we haven't done it - except for after that fireworks incident last summer - doesn't mean we can't do it in the future."

"Yes, ma'am," said Corey.

At least Becky was quiet for the rest of breakfast. She was no doubt wondering if her parents really would cane her. Corey had no doubt that they would.

"Yep," said Corey, coming over and picking up his pride and joy. "My Martin D-18 dreadnought, a 14th birthday present from my grandparents."

"Wow!" said Jerry, examining the instrument in admiration. "A real Martin guitar."

"Yep," said Corey proudly.

"And you're still gonna try to claim that your family isn't rich?"

"Oh, will you please stop that?" said Corey in exasperation. "I told you my father's parents are well off. They bought this for me. My parents are not rich."

"Right," said Jerry dubiously, "How is that even possible?"

"I dunno," said Corey. "I suppose my Dad did something to piss off his parents when he was a teenager."

"What did he do?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"Did you ever ask him?"

"You've got to be kidding! You can't ask your father something like that."

"Well," said Jerry, his voice tight, "I can't ask my father anything."

"I'm sorry, buddy," said Corey, embarrassed at bringing up the subject. Jerry's father had been killed in action in the Korean War when Jerry was just a toddler. "But you know what I mean. If my Dad wanted me to know what happened, he would have told me."

Yeah," said Jerry, trying to smile. "I guess you're right." Jerry was quiet for a few seconds, then said, "So what can you play on this thing, anyway?"

"Well, I know some Elvis tunes."

"Duuuhhh," said Jerry, smirking. "I guessed that much. So let's hear 'em."

"Okay, now don't take this one personally," said Corey. "It's just the first song I learned." He began playing "Love Me Tender".

Jerry didn't laugh, Corey had to give his friend that much credit. He had an increasingly wry look on his face as the song progressed, however. When the song finished, Jerry put a doe-eyed look on his face and said, in his highest available vocal register, "Oh, that was so sweet! I love you forever, Elvis!" Then Jerry threw himself at Corey like some kind of deranged fan.

This irritated Corey, but he had to admit that his friend did take care not to damage Corey or the guitar in the process of the melee that followed. When he finally got disentangled from Jerry, Corey said, "I told you not to take it personally, smart ass."

"How could I not take that personally?" said Jerry, in full smirk mode, "It was so heart-felt and convincing."

"Shut up, bone head," said Corey. He was beginning to think this might be a really long summer.

They spent Sunday afternoon at the pool, where Jerry became reacquainted with some of Corey's local friends. Doug Kleckner, at 15 one of Corey's older friends, and Mike Huijsa, a 14-year-old Dutchman, greeted Jerry warmly. Jerry looked around the pool deck and eventually said, "Where are those two big bullies that got us all paddled last year?"

"You mean Steve Wetzel and Gort?" said Doug.

"Yeah," said Jerry, "unless there were some other bullies who got us paddled last year that are slipping my mind at the moment."

"Okay, smart ass," said Doug. "It turns out that Steve and Gort are currently guests of the county."

"What does that mean?" said Jerry.

"It means they're both in juvenile detention," said Mike.

"Juvenile detention?" said Jerry. "Do you mean reform school?"

"Yeah, I guess you could call it reform school," said Doug.

"Wow!" said Jerry. "What did the big apes do to land in there?"

"Burglary," said Mike. "They got caught breaking into Newhart's Pharmacy."

"The pharmacy?" said Jerry. "Were they stealing drugs?"

"Possibly," said Doug.

"It's really hard to tell with those two," said Mike. "They're so stupid they might have been stealing a couple packs of gum."

"So Corey," said Jerry, smirking, "were those guys part of your burglary ring?"

"Huh?" said Corey. This was echoed by Doug and Mike.

"Last year Corey told me he ran a major burglary ring in his spare time," said Jerry.

Doug and Mike both said "Huh?" again and looked at Corey with very puzzled expressions.

Corey was confused for a few seconds, then the light bulb went off. "Oh, yeah, now I remember," said Corey. "That was just a joke."

"What joke?" said Doug, looking at Corey suspiciously.

"Ummm," said Corey. "You pretty much had to be there for it to make any sense."

"If you say so," said Doug, still looking suspicously at Corey.

"I'd rather learn to play drums," said Jerry.

"Oh, I see," said Corey, grinning. "You just want an excuse to hit something."

"Maybe," said Jerry, grinning back. "Nothing wrong with working out my aggressions on some drums."

"True," said Corey. "Much better than working them out on other people's faces."

On Wednesday morning the boys rode their bikes up 9th Street. They were once again handling lawn mowing duties for Old Mrs. Bauer, the widow who owned the largest house, and yard, in the neighborhood.

Mrs. Bauer remembered Jerry from last year, and was pleased to see him again. Her hair was gray, and worn in a bun. She wore "granny glasses", and her face wasn't too wrinkled, although it was starting to get there. She seemed to move around decently well as she tended her gardens.

Jerry was given a brief tour of the gardens, with special attention paid to Mrs. Bauer's prize-winning blue geraniums. Corey had heard all this before - the old lady was always blabbing about her stupid flowers. Apparently she had a banner batch of her special geraniums this year, and was about to somehow start making money from them. Corey was bored by this, but realized that all her money must come from somewhere.

Mrs. Bauer had added a self-propelled lawn mower to her collection of lawn and garden equipment in the last year. Corey and Mrs. Bauer taught Jerry how to operate the new mower, which he used to tackle the front and side yards. Meanwhile Corey, who had vastly more experience working around Mrs. Bauer's precious gardens without damaging anything, began work on the back yard.

Jerry completed his assigned areas in less than two hours. He found Corey all the way at the back of the property behind the garden area. "I'm done with the front and side yards. What do you want me to do next?"

"Let's see," said Corey, kind of shouting to be heard above the engine of his mower. "I guess you could start edging along the north side of the property. Around the trees and so forth."

"Okey-doke," shouted Jerry. "Where is the edger?"

"I'll show you," said Corey, shutting off his mower. "It should be in the tool shed... wait a minute."

"What?" said Jerry.

"Didn't you turn off your mower?" said Corey, becoming alarmed. He could clearly hear a lawnmower engine running on the other side of the garden.

"Nope," said Jerry. "It gave me trouble getting it started, so I just left it running."

"You came all the way back here, and left it running?" said Corey in mounting alarm. He starting trotting towards the front of the garden.

"Who cares?" said Jerry, who started trotting to keep up with his friend. "The old lady can afford a little extra gasoline."

"It's not the gasoline I'm worried about, dopey," said Corey. "Remember that the new mower can engage its own self-propulsion system sometimes if you leave it running!"

"What?" said Jerry. "You never told me that!"

Both boys began running. Corey figured they were okay, since the stupid mower didn't start itself too often. They got to the front of the garden and turned towards the house. He said, "Where is the mower?"

"It was right there!" said Jerry, pointing to an empty space on the back lawn. They looked at each other in mounting horror.

Corey listened carefully to see where the mower engine sound was coming from. It seemed to be coming from inside the garden. They ran along the front of the garden, and finally came to a place where the stupid self-propelled mower had obviously plowed through, leaving a swath of destroyed plants and flowers behind it.

With a mounting sense of doom, Corey dashed down the path left by the runaway mower, determined to stop it as soon as possible, hoping to at least limit the damage it caused. He heard Jerry running behind him, and he also heard Mrs. Bauer yell from the house, "Hey! What are you boys doing in the garden?"

Corey finally caught up to the mower as it plowed through a bed of blue flowers. He managed to turn off the mower and end the destruction at last. He examined the lever mechanism on the handle that engaged the self-propulsion system, trying to figure out why it was starting itself. Maybe if he could fix it, Mrs. Bauer wouldn't be quite so upset about this little accident.

"Corey," said Jerry. Corey looked up to see a horrified look on his best friend's face as Jerry viewed the remains of the blue flowers under their feet, "aren't these flowers..."

"Dear Lord!" yelled Mrs. Bauer, who had trotted up behind Jerry and was a bit breathless. "What have you little monsters done to my prize-winning geraniums?"

Corey took the phone receiver from Mrs. Bauer, looked at it like a snake that was hissing at him, and reluctantly put the earpiece to his ear. "It was an accident, Mom!" said Corey, leading with his best (and truth to tell, only) defense.

That's not what Mrs. Bauer said.

Corey dearly wanted to ask his mother who she was gonna believe, but he was frankly afraid of the answer he might receive. "It had to be an accident, Mom! Why would Jerry or I want to destroy Mrs. Bauer's flowers on purpose?"

You boys are 14-years-old, for heaven's sake! You should be able to operate a simple lawn mower without destroying someone's garden!

"The mower was malfunctioning!" said Corey. "It could start itself moving, and it obviously did when Jerry turned his back on it for minute."

Wait a minute! You're saying the mower could actually start its own engine up and start moving by itself?

"Well no," admitted Corey. "But if the engine is running and you leave it sit there, sometimes the self-propulsion drive engages itself. We don't know why."

And this never happened before today?

"Well, yes, a few times."

If you knew about it, then why did you leave the defective mower running, but unattended?

"Because Jerry was operating that mower today, and we had forgotten to tell him about that problem."

We?

"Mrs. Bauer and I both told Jerry how to operate the new mower. Neither of us remembered to tell him about the problem."

So you're trying to blame this on Mrs. Bauer now?

"No, Of course not! Nobody needs to be blamed. It wasn't anybody's fault. It was just an accident."

Corey, are you familiar with the word, 'negligence'?

"Yes," said Corey. He was getting a sinking feeling. This discussion was not likely to end well for Jerry and himself.

Tell me what it means.

Corey groaned in frustration and rolled his eyes, but said, "It means to be careless when you should be careful."

Close enough, dear. Tell me, were you and Jerry negligent today?

"Well, I guess we weren't as careful as we should have been..."

Corey, be honest. Don't try to sugar coat it. Were you and Jerry negligent today?

Corey was just about ready to be sick, but he said, "Yes, we were negligent today."

Thank you for being honest, dear. I'm going to ask you to give the receiver back to Mrs. Bauer in a minute. I will be telling her she has my permission to punish you and Jerry any way she sees fit. You will both cooperate with her and accept whatever punishment she decides to give you. Do you understand?

"Yes, ma'am." Corey felt a sudden, urgent need to pee.

When Mrs. Bauer is finished with you, I want you to drive your bikes home, put them away, and then confine yourselves to your bedroom. You father and I will be wanting to have a little talk with both of you before dinner. Do you understand?

"Yes, ma'am."

Good. Now please give the phone back to Mrs. Bauer. I need to speak to her.

"Yes, ma'am," said Corey. He offered the phone receiver to Mrs. Bauer. "My mother would like to speak to you again."

While Mrs. Bauer continued her conversation with Mom, Corey had a whispered conversation with Jerry, filling his friend in on the highlights of what awaited them. Jerry wasn't any happier about the situation than Corey, but there was little either of them could do about it at that point.

After Mrs. Bauer hung up the phone, she turned to look at the two sheepish boys and said, "So what I am going to do with you two?"

"We could help clean up the mess we made," suggested Jerry.

"Oh no!" said Mrs. Bauer, her eyes flashing dangerously behind her granny glasses. "I'm not letting either of you little devils anywhere near my precious garden ever again!"

"We'd be real careful from now on," said Corey, concerned about losing his best lawn mowing client. True, Corey shared the workload with two of his friends, but Mrs. Bauer payed better than anyone in the neighborhood.

"Forget it, boy!" yelled, Mrs. Bauer. "I hope to never see either of you on my property ever again."

"You want us to leave now?" said Jerry hopefully.

"Not quite yet," said Mrs. Bauer. "First I'm going to give you two a beating you'll never forget."

"A beating?" said Corey.

"Yes," said Mrs. Bauer. "I have an old belt around here somewhere that I'm sure you'll find most unpleasant applied firmly across your bare bottoms."

"Bare bottoms?" said Jerry. "May I use the bathroom before you beat us?"

"Yes," said Corey, "I need to use the bathroom too." It had been hours since either boy had relieved himself.

"Hmmm?" said Mrs. Bauer, who appeared to be trying to remember where she left her old belt. "You both need to use the lavatory? Or I suppose you're telling me you might have another 'accident'?"

"It's definitely possible," said Jerry. Who was squeezing his legs together like a boy who needed to go now.

"Probable in my case," said Corey. All this talk about a unpleasant old belt applied to his bare bottom had left him with a very urgent need to pee.

"Oh, very well," said Mrs. Bauer. "I suppose I can trust that you won't destroy my bathroom in the process?"

"Yes, ma'am!" said both boys in unison.

"Alright," said Mrs. Bauer. "You take care of that while I go find my belt. Wait for me on the couch until I get back."

"Yes, ma'am!" chorused the two boys, as they gratefully headed for the bathroom.

The two boys stood when the old lady entered the room. She looked at them and said, "All ready?"

"Yes ma'am!" said the boys, who both looked a lot less enthusiastic than they sounded.

"Hmmm," said Mrs. Bauer. She was looking around the room, as if seeking a place to carry out the execution. Eventually her eyes focused on the couch where the boys had been waiting. "Yes, that will do nicely.... but.... here, hold this a minute until I get back." She handed the belt to the very surprised Jerry and turned to walk out of the room.

As she left the room, Jerry was looking at the couch, "I wonder if we'll have to kneel on the couch?"

Corey glanced at the couch, an ancient-looking overstuffed model with lace draped over the back. "Who cares?" said Corey, turning his attention back to the weird looking round brown leather belt in Jerry's hand. "What kind of belt is that?"

"This?" said Jerry, glancing at the belt in his hands. "It's a sewing machine belt."

"A sewing machine belt?" said Corey. "It doesn't look anything like the belt on my Mom's sewing machine."

"It's a belt from an old fashioned treadle sewing machine."

"How the devil do you know that?" said Corey.

"My Aunt Betty has one at home," said Jerry. He noticed that Corey was staring at it. "You wanna hold it?"

"Sure," said Corey, taking it from his friend. He turned the round belt over in his hand, examining it carefully. It was made of hard, fuzzy brown leather, about three feet long and just over 1/4 inch diameter, as near as Corey could tell. "Wow, it's feels a little fuzzy... it's like a suede snake."

"Yeah, except it's quite a bit harder than suede."

"I wonder how it will feel on our butts?"

Jerry sighed ruefully, "I'm afraid it's gonna hurt a lot."

"Wait?" said Corey. "You've been whipped with one of these before?"

"Duuuhhh," said Jerry. "I just said that."

"No," said Corey, thinking back a few seconds. "You said you're aunt has the same kind of sewing machine."

"No, I said she had the same kind of belt," said Jerry. "This is a belt from a commercial model Singer treadle sewing machine. My Aunt Betty used to work in a clothing factory that used those machines. She brought a broken belt home, cut it down to size, and uses it to whip Robby and me."

"You never told me you and Robby got whipped with a sewing machine belt."

"You never asked."

Corey chuckled, "I guess I'm not always comfortable talking about stuff like that."

"Me neither."

"Well, boys," said Mrs. Bauer as she re-entered the room holding some towels. "Neither of you will be very comfortable for the next few minutes."

Neither boy responded to this comment, which didn't seem to phase Mrs. Bauer at all. She walked behind the couch and spread some towels over the back, apparently to protect the fancy lace covering. "Okay, boys, come back here."

The two boys very unwillingly walked towards their place of execution. "I'll take that, Corey," said Mrs. Bauer. He handed the belt to the woman who was about the use it on him. "Drop those shorts, I want to see those bare bottoms laying over the back of this sofa."

Corey stood facing the back of the sofa, unfastened and unzipped his khaki shorts, and dropped them and his white Jockeys to his ankles. Then Corey stretched himself over the towel-draped back of the sofa, his head and hands ending up on an overstuffed seat cushion. Corey was tall enough that his feet were still on the floor behind the sofa, and his bare bottom was now at the apex of the sofa back, presenting all too convenient a target for the sewing machine belt.

Corey glanced to his right and saw Jerry's face and hands buried into the neighboring sofa cushion. Corey had no idea what the belt was going to feel like on his bare ass. The look on the face of his best friend, who apparently did have an idea what was coming their way, did not give Corey any comfort. Thwaacckk

Whoa! Neither did that! Thwaacckk

Or that! The old lady was starting with Corey. Thwaacckk

Wow!! Jerry wasn't kidding when he said it would hurt a lot. Thwaacckk

It hurt, but unlike any other leather Corey had ever been hit with. Thwaacckk

Corey was trying to figure out exactly how it was different. Thwaacckk

Wow! That was one was on Jerry! Corey realized they were only getting five whacks. Thwaacckk This wasn't too bad. Thwaacckk

Corey glanced over and saw Jerry grimacing slightly as Thwaacckk the fourth and Thwaacckk fifth whacks hit home.

Cool, that wasn't too bad at all. Thwaaaccckk!

Yikes! The belt was back working over Corey's sore rump. Thwaaaccckk!

And hitting a lot harder to boot! Thwaaaccckk!

Corey suddenly wondered how many sets of five they were gonna get. Thwaaaccckk!

Corey managed to stay quiet through his second set of five whacks, as did Jerry. Thwaaaccckk!

By the end of the third set of five, Corey was gasping and groaning, whereas Jerry managed to stay quiet through fifteen. Thwaaaccckk!

By the end of the fourth set of five, Corey had started yelping, and there were a few tears leaking into his sofa cushion. Thwaaaccckk!

Jerry was only to the gasping and groaning stage by the time the twentieth whack hit his backside. Thwaaaccckk!

Corey was very worried by the end of the fifth set of five. He was crying, and wanted desperately to know how many more were coming. Thwaaaccckk!

Jerry was in tears by the end of the fifth set, and was actually yelping after the last couple whacks.

"Are you two little brats going to be more careful when mowing people's lawns in the future?" asked Mrs. Bauer.

Corey thought the question came from far away, but he managed to gasp out his answer between sobs, "Yes, ma'am!" He heard Jerry make a similar response.

"Alright then," said Mrs. Bauer. "Get up, get dressed, and get off of my property!"

She had already left the room by the time the two boys peeled themselves painfully off the back of the sofa. Corey was grateful for this small favor since both boys were sporting solid erections as they rubbed their stinging backsides. Corey managed to get a good look at Jerry's scorched rump as his friend tried to rub out the sting. It was uniformly red, with some red stripe-like marks at various points on each cheek.

Finally both boys gingerly pulled their briefs back up, trying not to contact their throbbing rears with the cotton, which was a little difficult. Eventually they pulled up their shorts and started to leave. Corey said, "I'd really like to apologize to her again."

"Don't waste your breath, buddy," said Jerry. "She doesn't want to hear anything from us today. Maybe you can come back some other time."

Corey and Jerry both rode home standing on the pedals of their bikes. Neither boy felt like sitting on their bicycle seats. They had a brief, slightly heated exchange of views over who was most responsible for the mess they found themselves in. Eventually they agreed that they were both equally at fault: Corey for not warning Jerry about the defective mower, and Jerry for not shutting the mower engine off when he went to find Corey. They would split any damage costs right down the middle.

"How much do you think those stupid blue geraniums are worth?" said Corey.

"I have no idea," said Jerry. "But I'll bet they're not cheap."

"Do you think we'll have to pay for the damages out of our allowances?" said Corey.

"I hope not," said Jerry. "Can kids file for bankruptcy?"

"I dunno," said Corey, "but we might have to check on that."

Both boys used the lavatory shortly after 5 PM, on the theory of "better safe than sorry". Corey wasn't sure they would get double dips for this one, but it was a definite possibility. Of more concern was the possible financial cost of this fiasco. Corey still only got a two dollar a week allowance. That was only $104 per year plus what he made mowing lawns in the summer and shoveling snow in the winter. And he had just lost his highest paying customer.

Shortly after 5:30 they heard Dad call from the bottom of the loft stairs, "Corey! Jerry! Get your butts in the office, on the double!"

Here we go, showtime! Dad didn't call them 'knuckleheads', so he must really be pissed off. Jerry's face mirrored Corey's mixture of worry and attempted bravado. Be confident - this was just an accident. On the way down the stairs Corey prayed that the damages wouldn't leave him destitute for more than a year.

When the boys entered the home office shared by Corey's parents, they were greeted by the sight of both parents, who were wearing very annoyed faces. Dad was sitting in the big leather chair behind his desk, and Mom was sitting in a nice chair to the left of the desk. One look at his parents and Corey gulped involuntarily in fear. Well, so much for bravado. But worry was having a truckload sale today!

"Sit down, boys," said Dad. They wordlessly sat in the two chairs arranged in front of the desk. Corey groaned slightly and shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position on the unpadded hardwood chair. Dad asked, "It still stings a bit?"

"Yes, sir," said Corey.

"Good," said Dad. He turned to Mom. "Would you like to begin, Penny?"

"Certainly, William," said Mom. "I stopped off at Mrs. Bauer's house on the way home from work today."

Corey was surprised by this, since it was at least five blocks out of her way. Mom continued, "She is very upset, which is understandable given the circumstances. I viewed the damage to her garden. The biggest problem is her prize-winning blue geraniums, nearly half of which were wiped out by that runaway lawn mower."

Mom directed a very stern look at the two boys, who were were unable to meet her gaze for more than a few seconds. Corey had visions of being fifty years old and still making payments on those stupid dead flowers. Mom continued, "About the only good news is that Mrs. Bauer is so dedicated to her geranium development activities that she had the plants insured."

"Insured?" said Corey. "Insured with Erie?" He looked to his father, wondering if Dad might get in trouble because his own son caused the firm a big payout.

"No," said Dad, "another company that specialises in unusual coverage like flowers."

"So," said Jerry, "does that mean that we won't have to pay for the damages to the garden?"

"No," said Mom. "The special policy only covers the geraniums." She sighed. "Unfortunately Mrs. Bauer refused to give me a figure for the damages to the rest of the garden. It might actually take some time for her to work out the final amount. In fact I'm not sure she'll even accept our money. I was made to feel most unwelcome during my visit."

"Yes," said Dad, coughing slightly, "Thank you, Penny. Perhaps I can drop by there on Saturday. Mrs. Bauer might feel more like speaking with members of our family after she has had a few days to cool down."

"We can only hope so, dear," said Mom.

"Quite," said Dad. He turned a very stern gaze towards the two boys. "And now we get to the architects of this disaster. Before deciding what to do with them, I think it's only fair to hear their side of this story. Jerry, why don't you go first? I understand you were the one operating the mower when it went out of control."

"Yes sir," said Jerry. "I was using the self-propelled lawn mower, which I had never used before. Corey and Mrs. Bauer taught me how to use it this morning, but neither of them mentioned a defect it has. Sometimes it will engage the self-propulsion mechanism on its own when it's just sitting there with the engine running."

"I see," said Dad. "And the mower suffered from this defect today while your back was turned, leaving you unable to stop it before it crashed into the garden?"

"Yes, sir," said Jerry.

Dad looked at Mom, who said, "So you were standing right near the mower when it started to run away?"

Jerry suddenly looked sheepish, "Well, not too near it, no."

"I see," said Mom. "Exactly how far away were you when the mower started to runaway?"

"I'm not really sure," said Jerry. "I had gone looking for Corey. I finished the front and side yards, and needed to find out what I should do next."

"So what you're telling us, Jerry," said Dad, "is that you were no where near that mower when it ran away."

"Yes, sir," said Jerry, barely able to look Dad in the eye.

Mom said, "Why in heaven's name didn't you shut off the engine if you needed to go find Corey?"

"Well," said Jerry. "The mower had been giving me a lot of trouble starting this morning, so I just left it running whenever I could."

"I see," said Dad. "Basically you left the engine running because you were too lazy to start it again when you got back."

Jerry sighed sadly, no longer able to look Dad in the eye and said, "Yes, sir."

"And you," said Dad, turning his full attention to his only son. "You were aware of this defect in the lawn mower?"

"Yes, sir," said Corey.

"You had used this mower yourself earlier this year, and experienced this defect first hand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you tell Jerry about this defect when you gave him the mower to use this morning?"

Corey would have given anything to have a sensible answer to this question. He briefly thought of trying the 'Mrs. Bauer forgot too' gambit, but realized it wouldn't work any better in person than it had over the phone. All he had left was the stark, horrible truth, "I forgot."

"I see," said Dad. He looked at the two boys squirming in their seats like a pair of ants he was thinking of stepping on. "Corey, I believe your mother discussed the word 'negligence' with you on the phone this morning."

"Yes, sir."

"Corey, were you negligent this morning, when working on Mrs. Bauer's lawn?"

"Yes, sir."

"Jerry, were you negligent this morning, when working on Mrs. Bauer's lawn?"

"Yes, sir."

"Before we go any further," said Mom. "I'd like to see how ambitious Mrs. Bauer was in dishing out her own correction."

"Good idea, dear," said Dad. "Boys, stand up." They immediately complied. "About face." Compliance again. "Drop your shorts and undies, and lean down over the backs of your chairs." Two still bright red bottoms were soon on display for an appreciative audience.

"Not bad," said Dad. "What did she use?"

"A sewing machine belt." said Corey.

"Interesting," said Mom. "Jerry, does Mrs. Bauer have the same kind of sewing machine belt your Aunt Betty uses on you and your cousin?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Jerry.

Corey wondered how the heck his mother knew about that?

"What do you think, Penny?" said Dad.

"I think you should proceed, William," said Mom. "Meanwhile I'll go change, then get dinner started."

"Very well," said Dad, as Mom left the office, closing the door behind her. "Stand up, boys, and about face."

The two friends were soon standing sheepishly in front of Dad, pants still down, their hands wandering towards covering their developing genitals. "No," said Dad. "Hands behind your heads." Both boys quickly complied.

"First of all," said Dad, "your allowances will be withheld, at least until we find out if Mrs. Bauer will accept payment for the uninsured damages. If so, we'll figure out a payment plan for each of you. If she won't accept payment, you'll get the withheld allowance paid to you."

Both boys acknowledged this decision. Corey was so glad that Mrs. Bauer had insurance. This wasn't turning out nearly as bad as he had suspected it would.

"You guys lucked out in that Mrs. Bauer had that insurance," said Dad. "Otherwise you'd be on the hook for thousands of dollars in damages."

"Thousands? said Corey.

"That's correct, son," said Dad. "Mrs. Bauer estimated that the destroyed flowers were worth in the neighborhood of $3,000 to $5,000."

"Five grand?" said Jerry.

"That's right, Jerry," said Dad. "Your carelessness nearly cost our families a huge amount of money. And I think you both need a severe reminder to pay more attention when you are dealing with other people's property."

The two boys groaned as Dad got two quarters out of the desk drawer and moved around the desk. "Noses against the wall, boys," said Dad. "You know the drill."

Great! Corey stewed as he stood with his nose against the wall, holding a quarter there. What a terrific day! On top of everything else, his parents were opting for double dips. He had thought these days were over after his parents started caning him last year. Corey reminded himself to make sure his penis wasn't trapped between his body and his father's leg when he went over the knee. He sure didn't want a repeat of the incident last year when he orgasmed on his mother's dress while she was spanking him with her hair brush.

After a few minutes Corey heard his father re-enter the office. He probably went to get the hairbrush from the bedroom. Corey heard his father moving around the room, and there was slight scaping as chairs were moved around. Finally Dad said, "Okay, Jerry... bring me your quarter, please."

Corey heard Jerry shuffle away from the wall. There were some indistinct sounds. "Oh, sir... nooo," said Jerry.

"No arguments, son," said Dad. "Bend over the back of that chair over there."

"Yes, Uncle Will."

Why was Jerry being asked to bend over the back of the chair for the hairbrush? Corey had a sudden sinking feeling... Dad always made Corey bend over the back of a chair for the.... cane! Sure enough, as Jerry moved into position, Corey heard the sound of his father swishing the dreaded cane through the air for practice. Dear God! Double dips with the cane? That was so unfair!

"Grab the rung of the chair," said Dad. "That's right. Legs further apart, please."

Corey couldn't see, but could picture in his mind his best friend leaning over the back of a wooden chair, grabbing the front rung. With his legs spead, his bottom was perfectly presented for the cane. "I'm giving you each six strokes. Jerry, I want you to count them for me. Do you remember how?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, then."

sssssss.crrackk! "One, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! Corey heard a gasp from Jerry. "Two, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! "Ooooohhh," Jerry groaned. "Three, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! "Yoooowww!" yelped Jerry. There was a brief delay, then, "Four, sir!"

sssssss.crrackk! "AAAhhhhh!" Jerry grunted in agony. A longer delay, then finally, "Five, sir!"

sssssss.crrackk! "Ooowwwwwwhhh!!," yelled Jerry, almost screaming. After several gasping breaths, he said, "Six, sir!"

"Okay, Jerry," said Dad. "You may get up now."

Corey could hear Jerry still gasping for breath, and there was a wet sound - was Jerry sobbing? "It's okay," said Dad. "You can rub it a bit." Come to think of it, with a six-stroke caning from Dad on top of that strapping from this morning, and Jerry had good reason to be rubbing, and sobbing. Corey was praying at this point that he could avoid bawling by the end of his own caning.

Corey heard Dad place Jerry back against the wall, and then, "Okay, Corey... bring me your quarter, please."

As Corey grabbed the quarter he had been pressing against the wall and turned to waddle over to Dad, he snuck a look at Jerry, who was back on the wall, hands laced behind his head. Corey was sickened by what he saw - five parallel stripes across Jerry's backside with a sixth diagonal cut across the first five. That diagonal final cut is what made Jerry practically scream. Dear God, Dad must really be pissed off!

Corey handed the quarter to his father, who took it and said, "Over the back of the chair, Corey. You know the drill."

"Yes, sir," said Corey, as he started to waddle over to the chair, hobbled by the shorts and underwear still at his ankles.

All too soon Corey was bent over the back of the wooden chair, grabbing the front rung, basically staring at the hard wooden seat. "Legs apart, son," said Dad. Corey complied, then he felt the cool touch of the rattan against his bottom. "Remember to count them."

"Yes, sir." sssssss.crrackk! The first stroke of the cane is always amazing. A few seconds of blissful nothing, and then... Wow! Oh yeah, "One, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! "Sssss!" Unbelievable! The cane is horrible by itself, but on top of the strapping, it was unsupportable. "Two, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! "Oooowwww!" Corey could feel tears leaking from his eyes already. The pain was simply unbelievable! "Three, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! "Ooooocchh!" Gotta hang on, can't cry. "Four, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! "OOOooowww!" Just might make it. "Five, sir."

sssssss.crrackk! "OOOOOoooowwww!" Not fair! That damned diagonal cut made him cry! He let go the chair rung with his left hand and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Six, sir."

"Okay, Corey," said Dad. "You may get up now."

Corey gratefully rubbed his bottom, trying to get rid of the maddening sting in his tail. After a minute he waddled back over to the wall.

Both boys stood noses to the wall, holding up their quarters, throbbing bottoms on display, until Mom called them all down for dinner.

"Go get pillows to sit on for dinner," said Dad, after the boys had gotten dressed again. "I'll try to talk Penny into letting you use them for all three meals tomorrow, too."

"Thanks, Dad." Thanks, Uncle Will."

"No problem, boys. Please don't make me do this to you again this summer, okay?"

"Yes, sir," said Jerry.

"We'll try, Dad," said Corey.

Author Note: This first chapter of Camp Torowa Falls 1965 (CTF65) was originally written in 2008. After years of waiting for the inspiration to continue the story I decided to publish this chapter as a stand alone story in 2011. I finally found the inspiration to continue CTF65 in the summer of 2016, so the series can now continue.