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Since both our playtime and telly privileges had been cut and there was a limit to how much we could study, mum and dad found more chores for us to do. They justified this by pointing out that they would be skills useful in later life when we lived alone but I digress. One day I was having a great learning experience dusting the book shelf and I noticed that one of the books had been recently removed and replaced. Why would a Famous Five story book be moved? I knew that Dick liked those adventure books a lot but, by now, he surely knew them by heart. I pulled the book out and as they say 'you can not tell a book by its cover!' It was my brother's journal. I know I should have just put it back and continued with the dusting but I was very curious. I could surely find several rationalizations to look but my motive was strictly selfish. My dear brother had wrecked my life and I wanted to know more and, even more important, if more trouble was on the way.\n\nI began to read starting two weeks before he was spanked. I was shocked. How could he be so stupid to write about all the things he did that were forbidden. I read of smoking and drinking and wanking contests with the same guys that gave him the hardest times in school. I found out about how nasty they were with him once he was in shorts. He wrote of the first spanking that dad gave to each of us. There was everyday stuff and including school in general. Then I learnt why I was wearing shorts; he had actually brought them himself. The very shorts I was wearing!\n\nHe wrote how his dream turned into a nightmare when it became reality. He had secretly wanted to wear shorts but only if forced. Just like the boys in the stories. He did not like the hassles at school nor the new rules but he really liked to wear the shorts. Knowing this I felt better about one thing. I was determined to be back into longs as soon as possible even if it kept Dicky in shorts longer. Having to wear the school uniform all the time was not so terrible except that I was also required to be in shorts.\n\nThe detailed fantasy he wrote the day after he was spanked was really fascinating.\n\nI was a naughty boy today and got caught. The housemaster sent me to see Williamson, the prefect I fag for. I stopped in my room to change into a fresh uniform. Williamson likes me to look sharp as a proper public school boy should. I put on a fresh shirt and shorts. They are really last year's because Williamson likes them to be tight. The other chaps don't understand why I don't wear longs like they do, now that we are all in the fifth form, but Williamson has forbidden me to wear them. I pull on my knee socks and use the new garters to be sure that they stay up. Fortunately my shoes are shined. I'm so nervous it takes me three tries to get my tie right. I'm so afraid that I'll be late I almost forgot my blazer.\nI knock on Williamson's door and enter. He looks at me and snaps: \"Wickie, have you been bad, again.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\" I hand him the report slip.\n\nWilliamson looks at it and commands: \"STRIP\". I remove my clothes and carefully fold them on a corner of his desk. In just a few minutes, I'm standing in my birthday suit. \"You get it, Wickie.\" I walk over to the cupboard and open the door. The implements are hanging there -- a senior cane, a junior cane and a plimsoll. I reach for the junior cane and actually touch it with one finger. It's like touching a hot poker and my hand snaps back. I'm the only one in the fifth still taking the plimsoll. The rule is simple -- no longs until I choose the cane. I give the plimsoll to Williamson.\n\nHe pulls me over his lap. Gently he rubs my bottom like does when he is going to _f_u_c_k_ me. He will do that later but first... SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! SPANK!! His hand rains down hard on my bottom. It hurts but I'm not crying -- yet. He gives me another volley. Now I'm crying.\n\nThen I feel the plimsoll. It hurts much more. After just four hits I lose count for I'm bawling like a baby.\n\nThen he stops and rubs my hot bottom again. This time he is gentle but any touch hurts. My little dicky is hard. It is pressed between my tummy and the bed. He lays me on his bed. I hear his zipper sliding down. Williamson is knelling between my legs and he puts some goo in my bottom hole. He lays down and drives his shaft deep into me. I stop crying and enjoy being with Williamson. I enjoy his _f_u_c_k_ing me. He explodes in me. He holds me tight.\n\nHe pulls out and rolls over. I lick his big prick clean and lick his balls. He likes that. I like it too.\n\nHe sits up and I stand in front of him. He rubs his fingers over my pubes. \"Time for another shave, boy.\" I go to the sink and get his razor, a wet flannel and the shaving cream. I lie on the bed and he makes me smooth again. He send shivers through me as he handles my wee-wee with his shaving creme covered hands. I don't have to worry about the cane for it's only for big boys with hair not little smooth boys like me in shorts.\n\nI get up and we walk over to the mirror. I can see the difference between us. He is a head taller and looks like a man. His thick, half hard penis is surrounded by a thick heavy bush. His muscles ripple and bulge under his skin. I'm just a little boy. My wee-wee hangs from my hairless, baby smooth crutch good only for weeing. My muscles are hardly there.\n\nWe return to the bed and he sit down. I drop to my knees and kiss his prick. He goes fully hard. I give it a lick. He says what I want to hear: \"Suck it, Wickie. \" I open my mouth and take his hard shaft into my mouth. I suck it for a while as he encourages me. Then I feel his strong hands on the sides of my head. He's taken physical control and forces his shaft all the way in and back out. He tenses and holds me still. He shoots his man-juice into me again. It runs down my throat to join the stuff he put into my bum.\n\nHe releases my head and lies back. I keep his prick in my mouth until he orders me to get dressed.\n\nAfter I get dressed, he sends me to the canteen to get him some snacks. I'm not allowed to have any for I'm a naughty boy who has just been soundly spanked.\n\nI return the journal to the shelf. Dicky's fantasy took almost five pages. I'm sure that the some high priced shrink would know a lot more what it really means than I do. To me it says that he want to be a prefect's fag, kept in shorts. It does seem to explain why he lets everyone in longs dominate him.\n\nThis give me an idea. Dick wants to be a prefect's fag. Maybe I can take charge of him. If I do that well, then I should be able to have more privileges than him. Those privileges that I thought were \"rights\" before this all started.\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Another part of the new rules Dick and I were subjected to was an increase in chores about the house.  Since both our playtime and telly privileges had been cut and there was a limit to how much we could study, mum and dad found more chores for us to do.  They justified this by pointing out that they would be skills useful in later life when we lived alone but I digress.  One day I was having a great learning experience dusting the book shelf and I noticed that one of the books had been recently removed and replaced.  Why would a Famous Five story book be moved?  I knew that Dick liked those adventure books a lot but, by now, he surely knew them by heart.  I pulled the book out and as they say 'you can not tell a book by its cover!'  It was my brother's journal.  I know I should have just put it back and continued with the dusting but I was very curious.  I could surely find several rationalizations to look but my motive was strictly selfish.  My dear brother had wrecked my life and I wanted to know more and, even more important, if more trouble was on the way.

I began to read starting two weeks before he was spanked.  I was shocked.  How could he be so stupid to write about all the things he did that were forbidden.  I read of smoking and drinking and wanking contests with the same guys that gave him the hardest times in school.  I found out about how nasty they were with him once he was in shorts.  He wrote of the first spanking that dad gave to each of us. There was everyday stuff and including school in general.  Then I learnt why I was wearing shorts; he had actually brought them himself.  The very shorts I was wearing!

He wrote how his dream turned into a nightmare when it became reality.  He had secretly wanted to wear shorts but only if forced.  Just like the boys in the stories.  He did not like the hassles at school nor the new rules but he really liked to wear the shorts.  Knowing this I felt better about one thing.  I was determined to be back into longs as soon as possible even if it kept Dicky in shorts longer.  Having to wear the school uniform all the time was not so terrible except that I was also required to be in shorts.

The detailed fantasy he wrote the day after he was spanked was really fascinating.

I was a naughty boy today and got caught.  The housemaster sent me to see Williamson, the prefect I fag for.  I stopped in my room to change into a fresh uniform.  Williamson likes me to look sharp as a proper public school boy should.  I put on a fresh shirt and shorts.  They are really last year's because Williamson likes them to be tight.  The other chaps don't understand why I don't wear longs like they do, now that we are all in the fifth form, but Williamson has forbidden me to wear them.  I pull on my knee socks and use the new garters to be sure that they stay up.  Fortunately my shoes are shined.  I'm so nervous it takes me three tries to get my tie right.  I'm so afraid that I'll be late I almost forgot my blazer.
I knock on Williamson's door and enter.  He looks at me and snaps: "Wickie, have you been bad, again."

"Yes, sir."  I hand him the report slip.

Williamson looks at it and commands: "STRIP".  I remove my clothes and carefully fold them on a corner of his desk.  In just a few minutes, I'm standing in my birthday suit.  "You get it, Wickie."  I walk over to the cupboard and open the door.  The implements are hanging there -- a senior cane, a junior cane and a plimsoll.  I reach for the junior cane and actually touch it with one finger.  It's like touching a hot poker and my hand snaps back.  I'm the only one in the fifth still taking the plimsoll.  The rule is simple -- no longs until I choose the cane.  I give the plimsoll to Williamson.

He pulls me over his lap.  Gently he rubs my bottom like does when he is going to _f_u_c_k_ me.  He will do that later but first... SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  SPANK!!  His hand rains down hard on my bottom.  It hurts but I'm not crying -- yet.  He gives me another volley.  Now I'm crying.

Then I feel the plimsoll.  It hurts much more.  After just four hits I lose count for I'm bawling like a baby.

Then he stops and rubs my hot bottom again.  This time he is gentle but any touch hurts.  My little dicky is hard.  It is pressed between my tummy and the bed.  He lays me on his bed.  I hear his zipper sliding down.  Williamson is knelling between my legs and he puts some goo in my bottom hole.  He lays down and drives his shaft deep into me.  I stop crying and enjoy being with Williamson.  I enjoy his _f_u_c_k_ing me.  He explodes in me.  He holds me tight.

He pulls out and rolls over.  I lick his big prick clean and lick his balls.  He likes that.  I like it too.

He sits up and I stand in front of him.  He rubs his fingers over my pubes.  "Time for another shave, boy."  I go to the sink and get his razor, a wet flannel and the shaving cream.  I lie on the bed and he makes me smooth again.  He send shivers through me as he handles my wee-wee with his shaving creme covered hands.  I don't have to worry about the cane for it's only for big boys with hair not little smooth boys like me in shorts.

I get up and we walk over to the mirror.  I can see the difference between us.  He is a head taller and looks like a man.  His thick, half hard penis is surrounded by a thick heavy bush.  His muscles ripple and bulge under his skin.  I'm just a little boy.  My wee-wee hangs from my hairless, baby smooth crutch good only for weeing.  My muscles are hardly there.

We return to the bed and he sit down.  I drop to my knees and kiss his prick.  He goes fully hard.  I give it a lick.  He says what I want to hear: "Suck it, Wickie. " I open my mouth and take his hard shaft into my mouth.  I suck it for a while as he encourages me.  Then I feel his strong hands on the sides of my head.  He's taken physical control and forces his shaft all the way in and back out.  He tenses and holds me still.  He shoots his man-juice into me again.  It runs down my throat to join the stuff he put into my bum.

He releases my head and lies back.  I keep his prick in my mouth until he orders me to get dressed.

After I get dressed, he sends me to the canteen to get him some snacks.  I'm not allowed to have any for I'm a naughty boy who has just been soundly spanked.

I return the journal to the shelf.  Dicky's fantasy took almost five pages.  I'm sure that the some high priced shrink would know a lot more what it really means than I do.  To me it says that he want to be a prefect's fag, kept in shorts.  It does seem to explain why he lets everyone in longs dominate him.

This give me an idea.  Dick wants to be a prefect's fag.  Maybe I can take charge of him.  If I do that well, then I should be able to have more privileges than him.  Those privileges that I thought were "rights" before this all started.
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