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9 – Windowbox Brother, Part 2

by Y Lee Coyote

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 12 Sep 2006

The following story is fiction.  It contain scenes of domination, spankings and sex.  If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  Need I tell you that you should read Part 1 (id=11307) first.

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

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

This story was inspired by a couple of photos I saw.  They show a lad of about thirteen years sitting in a window box.  He is in short-shorts and flexing a cane in one and playing with a Rubic's cube in the other.  His wicked grin/smirk suggests that something unpleasant is about to happen to someone else but that he will like it.  This is what my imagination thought up.

It is Saturday afternoon, three days since Chris, my older brother, got me to ask him to cane me, which he happily did.  I'm sitting in the window box flexing Father's cane just like he was doing when I got home late on Wednesday.

My mind is full of thoughts of using my father's cane on my brother's bare bum.  It is not something that I expect will happen.  My mind escapes into a fantasy.  In my mind's eye I see Christopher lowering his tight, well worn, corduroy shorts and then discarding them.  He never wears pants with those shorts.  I see that he is more developed than I and imagine I will have man-hair like he does in a year.  I flex the cane again and give it a swing so that it WHOOSHES.  His cock is not hard but mine is.  Surely he is afraid but he is too macho to show it.  He gets into position over the chair and I take my appropriate place as the master.  I raise the cane and bring it down right across the center of his bum.  He grunts and a nice red track forms on the target.  He holds on tight knowing that this was but the first.  I neatly place the second cut above and the third below.  I envision the underground with its center rail tracks and smile at the thought of a train rushing by on his arse.  I then give him the fourth cut, above, and the fifth, below.  He is sweating but bravely holds his place.  I finish with a diagonal cut making a nice neat gate.  His mates will admire that in the showers tomorrow.  Will he boast that his younger brother has such skill or is it too shameful that his younger brother caned him?  I tell him to get up.  When he does, he thanks me and promises to be good.  He does not let the pain show.  My brother is brave and strong.

My mind returns to reality.

I have a big problem to work out although Father would just use this cane; the problem has a name: Christopher.  Our parents are due back tomorrow from their trip and we have managed to survive and not wreck the house or each other.  We did have a common goal – to convince our 'rents that we don't need a babysitter anymore.  I had some minor fuck ups and Chris, quite properly, called me to task on them.  However, he let me own up to them and I accepted a caning from him to clear the record.  He was very impressed.  I would gladly accept another caning from him if it would increase his respect for me again; a sore bum is a small price to pay.

In the last twenty-four hours, however, it has been Chris who has slipped.  Nothing terribly serious but it could jeopardize our situation.  I have been trying to decide if I should write his failures in the book like he did mine.  And, of course, there is this cane that I've been playing and fantasying with for hours.  Until Wednesday I always thought that it should stay on the hook inside the cupboard as it was only Father's place to take it out and to use on my brother and me as punishment for our misdeeds.  Now it has a different meaning to me.  It gained a new use – for my big brother to use on me.  Would it be fair and right and proper for me to use it on him?  Should the answer be 'yes', then should I dare to do such a thing?

I heard him come in and called him into the room.  As we greeted each other he saw me, just as I saw him three days ago, flexing the cane while sitting in the window box.  I cannot control my expression so I don't know everything that I'm communicating.  "We need to talk, Chris." I say as normally as I can.  "I need your help."

"Sure, Orli."

"The 'rents are due back tomorrow morning and …" He nods "…I heard you come in last night. …"  A cloud passes over his face for it was two hours past his curfew.  "… Your room is a mess. … "  I remember that mine was like that earlier today until I spent two hours cleaning up.  "… Perhaps it is time for you to make some more notes in the book."  Then just like he had done, I used the cane to point to the notebook containing our agreement with our parents which I left open on the table with a pen next to it."

He stared at me for an eternity.  Then he smiled.  "You are right, Orli. –  I'll do my room tonight. Do you think I should be caned for missing curfew?"

My brother was quick and got right to the point.  "Dad would say so." I said evading the real question.

"He would indeed.  Are you thinking of doing it?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Chris.  Is it proper for the younger brother to cane the older brother?"

"You little devil!" he said with a smile.  He picked up the phone and dialed.  "Henry, it's me.  I can't go with you tonight. …  Of course, I'm not grounded – the 'rents are away – but I have to deal with something very important that won't wait. … I can't explain.  Bye."

Henry is his best mate.  He then sat at the table and wrote in the book on two different pages.  Chris can make decisions quickly.  I'm sure he will be made a head boy.

On one page he had written a list of his misdeeds for the week some five items long.  I had not the slightest idea that he had messed up so many times.  On the same page where I had asked him to cane me, he wrote the same thing – asking me to cane him.

"I'm not sure that is right, Christopher." I said.  "Dad will be back tomorrow and he might consider it disrespectful or something."

"I'm ordering you to do it, Orlando.  Dad told you to listen to me even if you disagreed and he would sort it out later."

That settled it. "Yes, Sir." I said getting up.  I was not as sure as I was in my reverie.

Chris had already dropped his shorts and was getting into position.  He looked at me.  "If you don't do a right proper job, then you're in trouble, brother." he said most sternly.  I stared at my big brother bent over the chair with his naked bum waiting for the cane.

I obeyed my big brother as I must and gave him six cuts as best as I could.  The tracks were not parallel nor were they even but they stung him just the same.  It was not the pure fun I expected for it also hurt me since I was hurting my brother.  He thanked me with real sincerity.  I blacked out the list of his transgressions; clearing the slate.

I told him that I had a confession.  I had heard him come in because I was reading when he came in and only then put out the light.  He told me to put away the cane and to get the slipper.  He gave me two hard whacks on my jeans-covered bum.

We hugged each other for a long time.  Chris actually said nice things to me including thanking me for how I handled everything.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Father questioned us about the stuff in the book.  Chris most politely but firmly said that the slate was wiped clean and there was nothing to report and that we had lived together peacefully.  Naturally, I agreed and added that we were growing up and could manage without constant supervision.

"It appears that you are growing up." Father said apparently most pleased.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Looking back I realized that I had gained respect from my big brother because of the cane.  Some of it was because I willingly accepted his caning me but some, perhaps more, was because I caned him.  I much prefer the latter way.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., September 11, 2006

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