They had found the Rec. by accident. Abandoned by parents who had formed dual alliances, they had been left to their own devices under Wendy's supervision. Jean and Betty had invited Lorraine to join them in their search for tacky souvenirs in the guise of novelty ceramics, and Lorraine, flattered by their interest, had eagerly accepted. Philip had then felt obliged to follow the women's advice and join Jonathon and Rick on their latest photographic expedition. He didn't know anything about photography but he did feel slightly honoured to be included in their august company and he resolved to do his best to learn what he could. Neither group had felt inclined to take the children with them, and so they had put Wendy in charge, despite Alan's seniority in age. The two groups had embarked upon their separate missions without further thought for their offspring's fate.
Alan had been trying to be cheerful and he had worn something of a sloppy grin. He had known that Wendy wasn't going to leave him unembarrassed all day long, but so far they had done no more than explore the village while Wendy and Tracy had gossiped about boring girly things. Alan had not complained or joined the conversation; he had just hung back with the sulky Kevin, who had clearly been in no mood to talk. Kevin had been about as reluctant as a boy could be. Last night's humiliations had burned in his brain, and he couldn't forget them. Unlike Alan, though, he had felt far safer out of the guest house than in. He had had no suspicion whatsoever that Wendy would do anything embarrassing to him outside the privacy of their room, and so he had felt safe.
Wendy and Tracy had ignored the boys. They had been busy getting to know each other, learning those essential facts like: which pop group was most favoured; which TV programmes; which films. They shared a lot in common and as they had talked they had ambled about aimlessly. Wendy had been the one who had spotted the old gates to the Rec. and although the unkempt bushes guarding the border hadn't allowed much of view inside, she had been sure that it must be some kind of park or play area. She had led her half merry band across the road towards it.
As they passed through the gates they could see a group of children to their left, and the noise that was emanating from that direction drew the attention of all four of them. They each tried to figure out what on earth was going on.
To one side they saw Giles, his rapidly rising rod growing rigid in Bridget's hands, and to the right four girls sitting on, or surrounding, a boy prone face down on the grass. A ten year old was holding a switch high in the air about to bring it cruelly down on his bare bottom.
"What the hell!?" exclaimed Wendy.
"Fuck!" shrieked Tracy.
Alan and Kevin remained mute; these two examples of male submission to girls, doing nothing for their own senses of well-being.
"Come on!" said Wendy speeding up. Tracy stepped carefully over a fresh pile of dog-shit and then matched Wendy's speed, no less eager than she to join in the fun. Alan and Kevin slowed rather than quickened, and came as close to a halt as they dare.
Helen delayed her first blow, seeing these newcomers approaching, and not knowing what they were going to say or do.
"What's going on?" asked Wendy, slowing to a stop beside Susan.
"We're trying to get his shorts off, but he won't let go of them" said Susan, completely shamelessly.
"Oh" said Wendy, just a little surprised "Can we help?"
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade
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Changes last made on: Wednesday, May 02, 2018