A SWEET REVENGE by Alex Birch (f/m, M/f, NC) The summer of 1941 was warm and sunny, kids of my age spending most of their free time paddling in rivers and brooks, the war temporarily forgotten until night time when shelters became a second home and the night sky was filled with the sound of German aircraft, their drone interspersed with that dire and ominous whistle heralding another ear splitting explosion which seemed to rock the very foundations of the air raid shelter. Although I was just fourteen, I was very frail for my age and must have looked three years younger. I was a nervous, highly strung kid too, who unashamedly clung to my mother's neck crying bitterly with terror as the bombs came whistling down. I think I was a disappointment to my father who wanted a real man for a son, a boy who was strong, fit and who won honours at football and athletics. Instead he got an only child with asthma, a nervous stammer and an obsession with science and chemistry which took up all my free time when the other kids were out playing sport. My father seemed to have little time for me, tied up as he was with war work, and he seemed to blame my mother for the way I'd grown up, 'tied to a woman's apron strings ' as he put it. The bombing around London got worse and lots of pressure had been put on city families by the authorities to evacuate their children, thus it was no surprise when my father and mother summoned me into the lounge one evening and informed me that they had decided to send me away to the home of my uncle George and my mother's sister,aunt Ruth, who owned a farm near Rushlake Green in Sussex. I was to stay for the duration of the war and, although mother swore they would visit often, I threw my arms around her and pleaded not to be sent away, father walking out of the room in disgust at my antics. That night mother packed my clothes and belongings, my plea to be allowed my chemistry set having been granted as long as I 'behaved responsibly'. The next day, before going to his office, father shook my hand gravely and told me the experience might 'make a man of me' and wished me well then, turning on his heel, left the house with no other gesture of affection while mother took me out to the taxi and on to the railway station. Our parting at Waterloo was painful as I hugged my mother tightly begging her to reconsider, but with tears in her eyes she bravely kissed me goodbye and put me on the train for Battle. At Battle station, after a long journey by local train, I brightened up for I recognised the smiling faces of my aunt and uncle standing beside their old Austin car, my aunt rushing forward, arms outstretched, as I stepped down from the train. On the journey to their home, my aunt gushed with questions about my health, then about mother and father, amusing me by asking if father was still such a 'sourpuss'. I was beginning to relax and feel wanted until my aunt said 'You'll be pleased to know Julie's home from college. It's been five years since you met. She's got a friend staying, too, and they're both looking forward to seeing you!' Somehow I managed to avoid bursting into tears on the spot, just nodding and forcing a smile before peering out of the car window to mask my true feelings. The last time I had stayed there I was only nine and my cousin Julie nearly thirteen but she had proved the most frightening ogre in my young life, the prime reason why I'd dreaded coming back. Even then she had been a pretty girl but a vicious bully, insisting I did every little chore for her on pain of violence if I did not. I had been punched and kicked, once having my nose split open but Julie had quickly told her parents I'd fallen over a log. I'd been too frightened to tell the truth and now I was to face her in the same house again. I could only hope she'd changed. When we arrived at the farm, my heart stopped and I felt cold all over, for there was Julie and her friend waiting to greet us. She had grown up into a stunningly beautiful girl, her friend very close in the good looks stakes too, and I began to hope for the best. My hopes soon evaporated for aunt Ruth said 'Give your little cousin a kiss, Julie' and she stepped forward, lips pursed as I responded reluctantly, the full weight of a woman's mouth on mine for the first time. She hugged me to her and held her mouth over mine until my air passages became devoid of oxygen and I began to panic, trying to gasp for breath as my face began to redden. 'Julie ...' I heard my aunt cry '...not so enthusiastic, he can't breathe!' and Julie let me go suddenly as I reeled away coughing and spluttering, an asthmatic wheeze filling my lungs. 'I'm sorry, Robert ...' she said softly '... I was just so pleased to see you' but I stared into her laughing eyes as that look of malice bored into my face and I knew my time here would be a nightmare. Julie stepped back to join her friend and I saw a little confidence exchanged between them, the two girls staring at me and grinning with delight. There were no further incidents that evening for we had tea and sandwiches, though I had little stomach for either as I glanced frequently and fearfully in the direction of Julie and her friend Clare, but neither seemed at all aware of my presence. The two girls went out to a local dance after tea with orders to be home by 11 pm so I was left with my uncle and aunt for the evening, to my great relief. We played chess and I beat uncle George,to his surprise and my delight, for chess, a game of intellect and beauty, was one of my rare talents. Around ten o' clock, aunt Ruth suggested I might retire to bed after such a hard day and I gratefully accepted the suggestion. The bed was comfortable and soft and it was not long before I was in the land of nod dreaming of my mother waving me goodbye at Waterloo. How long I had slept I don't know, but I became vaguely aware of someone standing over my bed and, struggling from sleep, I sensed the top sheet being pulled back before the crotch of my pyjamas was suddenly doused in warm water. I let out a loud shriek and shot up in bed as a chuckling figure in a nightdress ran out of my bedroom and closed the door. I threw off the bedclothes and got out, groping for the bedroom light and switching it on. To my horror the front of my pyjamas and part of the sheet were soaked in water and I burst into tears of despair just as the door opened and my horrified aunt surveyed the scene. 'Oh you poor child ...' she exclaimed '...your mother never mentioned this problem. It must be the new surroundings or something but we may have to call a doctor if you do this again!' I was dumbstruck for not only did my aunt think I'd wet the bed but she insisted that I take off the soaked pyjamas immediately. My embarrassment and despair were total as I stood in front of her, half naked, as she found me another pair and changed the sheets. The remainder of the night was spent in fear and misery for I could not lock the door, thus I slept fitfully jerking upright at every click or bump wondering if my tormentors had returned. Next morning, aunt Ruth came in to wake me and found a white faced and exhausted little boy who looked washed out and sleepless. She fussed over me for a few moments before telling me to come down for breakfast and eat with the girls. No prospect had ever seemed so uninvitiing but I reluctantly dragged myself downstairs and into the breakfast room where I found Julie and Clare already munching toast, both girls breaking into giggles as I walked in. The tears of mortification were close but I bravely sat down at the table as aunt Ruth went out to the kitchen to prepare my breakfast. As soon as I was alone with the two girls, Julie smirked at me and sneered 'Mom says you wet the bed last night, Robert! I thought only babies did that!' and dissolved into laughter as my face went red. 'You know I didn't, Julie ...' I stuttered '...wh..why did you do that to me. What have I ever done to you?' A look of pure evil crossed her face at that point and her eyes narrowed as she glared across the table like an angry cat. 'Because you're a simpering little weed ...' she hissed '...and I can't stand the sight of you. You're only here because you're a mommy's boy who doesn't like big bangs. I don't know why you got dumped on us but I'm warning you,. stay out of our way and one word to mom or dad about last night and I'll really hurt you!' then she turned to her friend, both girls chuckling as aunt Ruth returned with my breakfast but I couldn't eat, my stomach turning over and over with terror, yet I couldn't say a word. Things got better over the next few days, primarily because Julie and Clare chose to ignore me and went out on their own despite aunt Ruth's entreaties to the girls to make me feel welcome. I didn't mind at all, for I felt safe in the company of aunt Ruth when the girls were out and my appetite returned, to my aunt's obvious relief. I heard her mention 'problems of settling in' to uncle George and I was tempted to tell them the truth but, of course, my courage failed me. I was counting the days until Julie and Clare went back to college in a further two weeks and then perhaps my temporary home would be a home and not a frightening hostile jungle. All went well until three days later when aunt Ruth had to go into hospital for a day and was unable to take me with her. Uncle George had to supervise the crop spraying in the fields after chauffeuring his wife and could not be responsible for me either so my aunt demanded that Julie and Clare look after me for the day, berating Julie furiously when she sulkily expressed her reluctance. Julie's dismay was nothing compared to my own for, in a state of panic which bewildered my aunt, I begged to be allowed to stay in the fields with my uncle but my well meaning aunt would not hear of it, insisting that the two girls take me with them on a planned picnic. As uncle George revved the car, aunt Ruth waved at me from the passenger seat and I bravely waved back. 'Look after your cousin, now' she shouted as Julie smiled and put her arm around me. It was like the grip of a python as waves of fear consumed my frail body. Left alone with the two girls, Julie grabbed my arm. 'We seem to be stuck with you...' she snarled '...but one foot out of line and you'll regret it, understand?' and I nodded miserably as I picked up the haversack provided by my aunt and followed them across the fields in trepidation. Once into the depth of the woodlands at the back of the house, the two girls linked arms and strode on, leaving me to stumble on behind in dejection. 'Come on, creep, keep up!' I heard and tried to accelerate to keep up, my breathing now becoming painful. By the time we reached the picnic site I was out of breath and suffering, reaching into my pocket occasionally for my inhaler, much to the scorn and amusement of Julie and Clare. They refused to share any food with me, leaving me to eat the few sandwiches in my small pack, though the food was intended for all of us. My misery and resentment grew as I sat on my own, deliberately ignored by the two girls as they chattered away. The crunch came when Julie abruptly got up and decided it was time to return then ordered me to clear up the picnic things on my own. Forgetting my fear, resentment driving me on, I shouted 'No, I won't. I'm not your slave. Clear it up yourself!' and then looked in terror at Julie's hate filled face, cursing myself for my foolhardiness. 'NO ...!' she shouted as she advanced on me menacingly '...did I hear NO! You don't refuse me, weed, as you're about to find out. You're a very naughty little weed and I'm going to teach you a lesson!' I couldn't move as she came towards me, my legs as weak as water, unable to run as Julie grabbed hold of my arms. 'What are you going to do, Jules?' I heard Clare's voice, breathless with excitement and Julie's answer 'I'm going to teach the weed a lesson he won't forget, come and hold his arms!' I tried frantically to resist but I was too frail to succeed, the grinning Clare holding my arms tightly as I heard Julie walk a few feet away and snap something off a nearby tree. I looked up and saw her holding a long sapling in her hand which she tapped menacingly against her palm, yet I was still bemused about her intentions as they both dragged me over to a nearby tree stump and forced me head first over it until I was lying face down across it. The horror of what they intended began to dawn as I tried to struggle free, the tears beginning again for they were too strong for me and I lay helpless. Suddenly I gave a terrified shriek as first I heard Clare giggle then I felt a sharp wrench at my waist and cold air on my rear as Julie pulled down my shorts and underpants. I lay crying and shouting, my bare bottom exposed to the two laughing girls and then 'whaaack' the first stroke of the sapling whipped across my tender flesh as I howled in agony. 'That's a nice stripe across his bum!' Clare giggled as Julie proceeded to whip me with the sapling until I was screaming in pain. I don't know how many she gave me, probably a dozen before the whipping ceased and I fell off the log howling in agony. Clare sounded nervous . 'Christ, Jules, his bottom is like a skinned tomato ...' she gasped '.... how are we going to explain that away?' but Julie just laughed. 'We don't have to...' she muttered, gripping my hair tightly '...because weed won't say anything or weed will get a lot worse!' and I nodded and gulped, tears of pain and shame rolling down my face. The return journey was agony for me and the tears were rolling down my face as I tried to rub my bottom and walk at the same time but it was sheer torment. When we got home there was nobody else about, so the two girls dragged me upstairs and into the bathroom where Claire ran a bath of cold water. 'Get undressed!' Julie ordered and I obeyed with alacrity, my swollen, roasting bottom completely eliminating any concern for my modesty. When I was naked, Julie hauled me over the side and dumped me into the icy water as I yelled with the sudden cold, my body temperature dropping immediately. 'Now sit there for half an hour till that swelling goes down ...' Julie ordered '...and if you keep yelling we'll stick your head under!' I did as I was bid under the scrutiny of the two girls, shivering with cold yet glad of the relief to my burning buttocks. When I was nearly frozen with cold, Julie and Clare hauled me out and left the bathroom, ordering me to my bed for the rest of the afternoon. Crying tears of rage and humiliation, I dried myself gingerly and took to my bed, rolling over and over to try and ease the pain in my bottom. I must have lain there for two hours until the urge to pee forced me to get up and walk down the landing to the bathroom. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard the two girls in loud and earnest conversation downstairs. Worried in case they were plotting further abuse, I stopped to listen. 'I know they're nice looking boys...' I heard Clare's high lilt '...but we can't afford a trip to the seaside, we haven't got two pins to rub together.' 'WE haven't ...' I heard Julie's deeper reply '...but Mom's got over £100 hidden under the clock in her bedroom. She went to the bank on Monday and she always keeps it in the same place. We'll sort of borrow it.' 'We can't...' Clare replied '...your mom'll miss it. How do we get over that?' I heard Julie giggle. 'Easy. She'll be back at seven but I'll nick the cash before that and then plant a couple of tenners under weed's pillow and that's the end of him. We'll say he hid the rest. We can go to Brighton and weed gets sent home to his parents in disgrace!' I reeled away in shock as I realised how evil this girl was, callous and vindictive. Suddenly I turned on my heel and went quietly back to my room, a new determination filling my being, a new resolve in my step. I took my chemistry set out of my battered holdall, wedged my bedroom door shut and began to mix some powder. When I'd finished, I tiptoed out of my room towards aunt Ruth's bedroom desperately hoping the girls would not hear me. I left my aunt's bedroom just in time for I heard Julie's voice on the stairs. 'Are you up yet, you little worm ...' she shouted '...for mom and dad will be back soon and we don't want any funny questions do we!' Throat dry, I began to decend the stairs, passing Julie on the way and she grabbed my collar. 'Not a word about your sore little bum, understand?' and I nodded fearfully as she let me go and continued on her way. I turned and watched her back with a smile on my face. Aunt Ruth and uncle George returned from the hospital a little later, everyone making a fuss of my aunt as she reassured us all that she was perfectly fine. The evening meal was conducted in relative peace, though my aunt did say I looked flushed and uncomfortable but I burbled some obviously suitable response, Julie watching me through narrowed eyes. Some time after tea my aunt went upstairs to her room and reappeared some ten minutes later looking shocked and upset. 'There was £100 under the clock in my bedroom ...' she said shakily '...and now it's gone. We haven't been broken into so though it breaks my heart to say it, the culprit is in this room. Now who is it?' Immediately Julie stared at me accusingly. 'You little wretch ...' she shouted '...you''re the only one who's been up there today. Come on, give it back!' as I protested my innocence desperately. 'Mom, I suggest we search his room ...' Julie demanded '...the money can't be far away. I knew he was trouble!' 'That'll do, Julie ...' her mother said quietly, then '...are you prepared to accept that, Robert?' and I nodded meekly as, led by my aunt, the family trooped upstairs and into my bedroom. Julie pretended to search but made sure it was her mother who found the two notes under my pillow case as everyone stared accusingly at me. 'What have you got to say for yourself, Robert?' my aunt demanded, tears in her eyes and I looked bravely into her face. 'It wasn't me, aunt Ruth and I can prove it. I've never even touched the money. Please aunt Ruth, give me a chance. Pick up those two notes and hold them in your hand for a minute.' I pleaded and, despite Julie's indignant entreaties to punish me, my aunt did as I asked, her face a picture of bewilderment. 'Now look at your fingers ...' I asked and my aunt did so, her eyes widening as she saw her fingers stained a light blue. I showed her my own unsullied hands then I saw Julie quickly look at her own fingers, a gasp of anger and frustration breaking from her lips as she tried to edge out of the door but her father, spotting this, seized her hand and raised it, revealing the tell tale stain to all. 'I heard them plotting to set me up, aunt Ruth ...' I said ' ...and I heard Julie tell Clare where the money was so I used my chemistry set to make a slow dyeing powder, then sprinkled it over the notes and waited. It's clear who's planted that money!' Julie tried to deny it but guilt was all over her face, the truth confirmed when uncle George confronted Clare angrily and demanded the truth. Her resistance collapsed into tears as she blamed Julie for everything. 'You little cow ...' Julie screamed '...miss goody goody. Whose idea was it to soak the weed's pyjamas in hot water?' as Clare shouted back 'And whose idea was it to smack his bottom with a stick?' then the two girls nearly came to blows as a shocked uncle George and aunt Ruth shepherded them back down to the lounge, aunt Ruth taking me into the kitchen to verify Clare's accusation and gasping with horror when she saw my bruised bottom. I had never seen uncle George look angry before but he was red faced and shaking with rage, Clare and Julie cowering under his wrath as the whole sorry story of my treatment was forced out of the now whimpering and frightened girls. When they had finished their tale of infamy, my uncle addressed them both. 'I have never heard such an appalling saga ...' he thundered '...and I'm ashamed that my own daughter has been exposed as both a thief and a bully!'.' By now, the beautiful eighteen year old monster had been reduced to a weeping, shivering funk as her father's words sank home and she cried out as he told her she had a simple choice -to accept his punishment or to leave home and not return. She pleaded not to have to make such a choice but finally begged not to be thrown out and that she would accept her punishment if only I would leave the room but my uncle refused this request. The sobbing girl then submitted to the inevitable, my uncle addressing us all gravely. 'I am now going to perform a grim duty which is obviously overdue and one I hoped never to have to consider. Clare, you will watch before I take you back to your father and recommend that you receive similar punishment, and Robert, you too will watch and I hope what you see will in some way make amends for what has happened to you, though I am bitterly ashamed of it and beg you to forgive us!' At a nod from my uncle, aunt Ruth, still in shock and obviously very angry, left the room and returned some minutes later holding a length of rattan in her hand. When Julie saw it, her eyes widened and tears ran down her face as she pleaded for mercy. I, on the other hand, began to tremble with excitement on realising that Julie was about to get her bottom caned. 'You should have thought about mercy before your appalling behaviour...' my uncle thundered '...and now you will be publicly humiliated in addition to being very, very sore! Ruth ...' he demanded '...hand me that cane ...' then he swished it through the air as Julie squealed in fright '...and you, take off your skirt!' I smiled at my tormentor as, her face crimson and her eyes pouring tears, Julie unbuttoned her skirt and slipped it off, revealing her lovely bare legs and her shapely bottom covered only by her white lace french knickers, her humiliation immense as she prepared for a public thrashing. Worse was to come as my uncle ordered the bitterly weeping Julie to face the back of the armchair, then took his time studying his daughter's plump bottom cheeks, hardly protected at all by her delicate lace knickers but, to my delight, he was not satisfied! 'Take your knickers down and bend over the chair as far as you can, your bottom right up!' he bellowed and my throat went dry as Julie squealed in shame and I heard Clare's disbelieving gasp. Shaking and weeping, my beautiful tormentor reached down with trembling fingers and pushed her knickers down to her ankles before bending right over the chair. I was right behind her and my shorts tightened with a sudden erection as I stared at those two milky white globes thrust up submissively for punishment, my eyes feasting on the crevice between them garlanded by a cluster of dark hair peeping out from the narrow gap between her thighs. I could hear Julie's gurgling tears as she awaited her nemesis, then uncle George raised the cane to his shoulder and brought it down with a whippy swish across the centre of Julie's bare bottom. She let out a wail of pain and shot bolt upright, her hands grabbing at her punished bottom, her head turning in mute appeal as she gasped for breath. 'Hurts, doesn't it! ...' her father said grimly '...well it's going to hurt a lot more because that one doesn't count. Every time you move and rub your bottom, I'll deliver the stroke again. Twelve to come!' Julie cried in horror, then bent down again, her bottom writhing gently in pain as my uncle waited, then craaack, the cane struck again about half an inch below the first one and again with a howl of pain, Julie shot bolt upright then remembered and resumed her position but too late. 'We still haven't started, Julie ...' my uncle said sternly '...twelve to come!' and my cousin was now in pitiful tears of despair but there was no relenting. The cane whipped in again and a third bright stripe appeared on Julie's arse but this time she somehow managed to stay down though her scream was awful. By the time she'd had eight strokes, each one a fiendish half inch apart and with six still to go, her bottom looked like a beetroot covered in raised scarlet welts and she was howling the place down. In addition my once proud cousin was quite unable to prevent her legs scissoring as the cane struck, my excitement mounting as the thin pink seam of Julie's sex and the tiny wrinkled button of her anus came into view as her bottom cheeks parted and tightened in a pain racked frenzy. Clare was watching in blushing horror as her friend received her just deserts, presumably imagining what would happen to her when she got home and her father was informed. I just wished I could be there too! My uncle raised the cane again and whipped it across Julie's thighs, a blood curdling shriek resulting and a graphic parting of her legs which revealed everything she had, Julie staying in the thighs apart position for some seconds, her legs jerking rapidly as the terrible sting took its toll. Two more across her legs and the last three hard strokes across the welted bottom and Julie's punishment was over. She sank to the floor, gasping for breath and screaming in pain, her body jerking backwards and forwards as she tried to alleviate the agony. My uncle laid down the cane then walked over to his daughter and lifted her chin. All fight had gone now and Julie looked terror stricken in case there was more to follow. 'It's over, Julie ...' my uncle said quietly '...now I want to hear you apologise on your knees to Robert for everything you've done! If you step out of line once more, young lady, you will feel the weight of my rod again and twice as hard!. I remember floating on air as the chastened Julie, kneeling half naked with knickers round her ankles, begged my forgiveness and promised never to ill treat me again. I never found out if she meant it because she returned to college early next day, too ashamed to face me again and life at the farm was idyllic from that moment on. Relations between us improved over time and Julie and I eventually became quite close, her manner improving with age. She is a grandmother now and we keep in touch occasionally at Christmas and birthdays but I always remember with affection that summer of '41 and how the benefits of a little scientific knowledge could bring a bully to heel!.