Poor Fin is in for another spanking thanks to his brother Mike.
"No, Dad, no!" Coldham Fintan Noose III begged his father and name sake for mercy. "Please, I'm going to be a good boy!" "It's fifty strokes with the cane as I said. Now bend over and drop your pants." Coldham's voice was hard and made it clear he wouldn't budge. Trembling and very close to tears Fin, as Coldham Fintan III was nicknamed, obeyed.
The cuts bit deep into Fin's skin. Coldham was a master in wielding the cane, so blood was drawn only after the thirty first strokes. Fin was bawling, screaming and shaking.
"Fin, Fin, wake up. You're having a nightmare." Fin woke up, when his wife Frieda shook him. He had been flaying and screaming in bed and real tears were streaming down his face. Had somebody else caught him, he would have been embarrassed. Fin trusted Frieda blindly and had no secrets from her. Sleeping seemed impossible for Fin. He was visibly shaken. "Want to talk about it?" Frieda asked. Fin was torn. Briskly he whisked away the tears, using the time to make up his mind. "Okay." Frieda and he went to the kitchen. She made him a malt drink. It was relaxing and in Frieda's opinion just what the doctor ordered. He graciously accepted a cup and a slice of chamomile cake with honey frosting. "So what did you dream?" "Dad had decided to give me fifty lashes with the cane for coming home late and involving my brother." "Oh, my goodness!" "You woke me up, when we had arrived by around forty. You won't believe how realistic the dream was. I felt the burning and stinging sensation and blood was running down on the back of my legs..." "Did your parents ever ... go so far?" Broaching the subject wasn't easy for Frieda, but she was curious. "No. Not with the cane. The number of strokes would have surely killed me. They were quite mad at me the last time I was ever spanked by them. My mother whipped me with a belt - I lost track of the number of strokes, but I estimate they were in the region of thirty to fifty. You have seen the results." "I remember." Frieda had been outraged when she had seen the damage. Fin's backside had been covered in welts and bruises. He had had problems walking and moving, because it hurt a lot. On the other side it hadn't kept him from making love to her. The last memory made her smile. Frieda returned to the present, when Fin continued: "I was eight." "Sorry?!" "When the real incident occurred. Mom and Dad had Mike and I allowed for the first time ever going alone to mutual friends a block from our house. Mom had told me I was responsible for the welfare of Mike and that we were punctual back at 5 PM. If not..." Frieda could imagine what Beverly had told Fin. She wanted to kill Beverly and Coldham. They had done a lot of damage to Fin's psyche. Sighing she pushed the thought aside and asked: "What happened?" "Mike didn't want to go home." "What?! Why would you get punished for that?" Fin shrugged his shoulders. "Mike saved his own butt." "He accused you of not wanting to go home?" "Yes."
Fin didn't believe his ears, when Mike, his seven year old brother, lied to their father. Fin had tried everything to get them both home on time. Since Mike was slightly taller and stronger than him, he simply couldn't drag him home by the ears. Only when Mike realized Fin was fretting, he was willing to go home. Their parents were already waiting for them and as always Mike was given priority. Both were lectured. When asked why they were late, Mike blurted out Fin didn't want to go home. Of course they believed Mike and Fin had to take the brunt of Coldham and Beverly's anger. "Mike, go to your room. Stay there until we call you." When Mike was out of earshot, Beverly told Fin: "We trusted you and you abused our believe in you. This is so disappointing. One thing is for sure you won't be going out alone for a long time. Now to your punishment: Three strokes on your underpants." Fin blanched. He had avoided the cane for a couple of months and had only received one stroke so far. Coldham had left the room to fetch the cane, while Beverly prepared Fin. He tried to escape and protested his innocence. Fin's mother didn't have patience for such nonsense, grabbed him by the arm, held him in place, pulled down his underpants and smacked each cheek twice. She then pulled up the garment and said: "Behave young man! If not the pants are coming down too." Fin was fighting with tears. It was all so unfair. He was angry and hurt. Fin couldn't understand why his parents wouldn't listen to him. Fin pleaded with Beverly to no avail. She warned him one last time to shut up or else... Fin didn't stop whining. Beverly had enough. She bent Fin over the arm rest of the sofa, her arm draped around his waist, so he couldn't move and with the other hand pulled down the briefs. Coldham returned and wasn't too pleased to find Fin bared. He could imagine what happened and his wife confirmed it. Fin was glad his mother held him in place. Otherwise he would have moved after each scorching stroke, which would have in turn displeased his parents. Fin tried to be good and not to make a lot of noise. He was partly successful, but he cried immediately after the first cut. When the last stroke had landed Fin was screaming at the top of his lungs, because the pain was so incredible. As soon as he was released from his mother's grip, he hopped from one foot to the other and rubbed his behind to ease the sting. He wouldn't accept any comfort from Coldham or Beverly. It took Fin a few minutes to calm down. He didn't believe it when he was told by his parents everything was forgiven and that they loved him. In fact he hated them and couldn't wait to be left alone. When he was finally allowed to go, Fin went straight to his room to check out the tramlines he was sure he had. The marks were clearly visible. Fin knew he would have pain sitting down for a few days, before the angry welts would fade and go away within a week or so.
Mike had to stay on his room for the rest of the evening.
Fin ignored his parents and Mike for a while.
In the present Fin had finished his story. He was glad he could talk about the dream and what had happened. It was a relief. The drink made Fin sleepy, though, and soon Frieda and he were back to bed.
"No, Dad, no!" Coldham Fintan Noose III begged his father and name sake for mercy. "Please, I'm going to be a good boy!" "It's fifty strokes with the cane as I said. Now bend over and drop your pants." Coldham's voice was hard and made it clear he wouldn't budge. Trembling and very close to tears Fin, as Coldham Fintan III was nicknamed, obeyed.
The cuts bit deep into Fin's skin. Coldham was a master in wielding the cane, so blood was drawn only after the thirty first strokes. Fin was bawling, screaming and shaking.
"Fin, Fin, wake up. You're having a nightmare." Fin woke up, when his wife Frieda shook him. He had been flaying and screaming in bed and real tears were streaming down his face. Had somebody else caught him, he would have been embarrassed. Fin trusted Frieda blindly and had no secrets from her. Sleeping seemed impossible for Fin. He was visibly shaken. "Want to talk about it?" Frieda asked. Fin was torn. Briskly he whisked away the tears, using the time to make up his mind. "Okay." Frieda and he went to the kitchen. She made him a malt drink. It was relaxing and in Frieda's opinion just what the doctor ordered. He graciously accepted a cup and a slice of chamomile cake with honey frosting. "So what did you dream?" "Dad had decided to give me fifty lashes with the cane for coming home late and involving my brother." "Oh, my goodness!" "You woke me up, when we had arrived by around forty. You won't believe how realistic the dream was. I felt the burning and stinging sensation and blood was running down on the back of my legs..." "Did your parents ever ... go so far?" Broaching the subject wasn't easy for Frieda, but she was curious. "No. Not with the cane. The number of strokes would have surely killed me. They were quite mad at me the last time I was ever spanked by them. My mother whipped me with a belt - I lost track of the number of strokes, but I estimate they were in the region of thirty to fifty. You have seen the results." "I remember." Frieda had been outraged when she had seen the damage. Fin's backside had been covered in welts and bruises. He had had problems walking and moving, because it hurt a lot. On the other side it hadn't kept him from making love to her. The last memory made her smile. Frieda returned to the present, when Fin continued: "I was eight." "Sorry?!" "When the real incident occurred. Mom and Dad had Mike and I allowed for the first time ever going alone to mutual friends a block from our house. Mom had told me I was responsible for the welfare of Mike and that we were punctual back at 5 PM. If not..." Frieda could imagine what Beverly had told Fin. She wanted to kill Beverly and Coldham. They had done a lot of damage to Fin's psyche. Sighing she pushed the thought aside and asked: "What happened?" "Mike didn't want to go home." "What?! Why would you get punished for that?" Fin shrugged his shoulders. "Mike saved his own butt." "He accused you of not wanting to go home?" "Yes."
Fin didn't believe his ears, when Mike, his seven year old brother, lied to their father. Fin had tried everything to get them both home on time. Since Mike was slightly taller and stronger than him, he simply couldn't drag him home by the ears. Only when Mike realized Fin was fretting, he was willing to go home. Their parents were already waiting for them and as always Mike was given priority. Both were lectured. When asked why they were late, Mike blurted out Fin didn't want to go home. Of course they believed Mike and Fin had to take the brunt of Coldham and Beverly's anger. "Mike, go to your room. Stay there until we call you." When Mike was out of earshot, Beverly told Fin: "We trusted you and you abused our believe in you. This is so disappointing. One thing is for sure you won't be going out alone for a long time. Now to your punishment: Three strokes on your underpants." Fin blanched. He had avoided the cane for a couple of months and had only received one stroke so far. Coldham had left the room to fetch the cane, while Beverly prepared Fin. He tried to escape and protested his innocence. Fin's mother didn't have patience for such nonsense, grabbed him by the arm, held him in place, pulled down his underpants and smacked each cheek twice. She then pulled up the garment and said: "Behave young man! If not the pants are coming down too." Fin was fighting with tears. It was all so unfair. He was angry and hurt. Fin couldn't understand why his parents wouldn't listen to him. Fin pleaded with Beverly to no avail. She warned him one last time to shut up or else... Fin didn't stop whining. Beverly had enough. She bent Fin over the arm rest of the sofa, her arm draped around his waist, so he couldn't move and with the other hand pulled down the briefs. Coldham returned and wasn't too pleased to find Fin bared. He could imagine what happened and his wife confirmed it. Fin was glad his mother held him in place. Otherwise he would have moved after each scorching stroke, which would have in turn displeased his parents. Fin tried to be good and not to make a lot of noise. He was partly successful, but he cried immediately after the first cut. When the last stroke had landed Fin was screaming at the top of his lungs, because the pain was so incredible. As soon as he was released from his mother's grip, he hopped from one foot to the other and rubbed his behind to ease the sting. He wouldn't accept any comfort from Coldham or Beverly. It took Fin a few minutes to calm down. He didn't believe it when he was told by his parents everything was forgiven and that they loved him. In fact he hated them and couldn't wait to be left alone. When he was finally allowed to go, Fin went straight to his room to check out the tramlines he was sure he had. The marks were clearly visible. Fin knew he would have pain sitting down for a few days, before the angry welts would fade and go away within a week or so.
Mike had to stay on his room for the rest of the evening.
Fin ignored his parents and Mike for a while.
In the present Fin had finished his story. He was glad he could talk about the dream and what had happened. It was a relief. The drink made Fin sleepy, though, and soon Frieda and he were back to bed.
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