Two Up

ANZAC. Australia and New Zealand Army Corps. These words are sacred in the Antipodes, and the men they recall are legend. Every 25th of April since 1916 the men and women of New Zealand and Australia have stopped to remember all who have fallen in wars fought by these two nations.

The year 2010 marked the ninety-fifth anniversary of the dawn landings of the A.N.Z.A.C. armies at Gellibolu in Turkey, and the ninety-fourth celebration of the event on “Anzac Day”. Thousands gathered before dawn to recite Binyon’s Ode, to sing the protection of “Those in Peril on the Sea”, the proclamation and advance of Australia Fair and to intercede for divine defence of Pacific’s Triple Star, Aotearoa. Parades of returned servicemen and servicewomen, current servicemen and servicewomen, former and current members of the Red Cross, along with the State Emergency Services, the Police, regimental and city bands and the Scouts and Guides marched proudly through two national capital cities, six state capital cities, one territory capital city, and regional cities, towns and hamlets across the lands down under.

Following the dawn services, the marches, and the church parades, (for Anzac fell on a Sunday that year), the men and women of Australasia retired to the rooms of the local Returned and Services Association or Returned and Services League to enjoy some amber refreshment, a game or two of two-up, and to bullshit on about how brave they used to be.

Sacred space. Sacred place. Sacred day. Sacred ways.

We will remember them.

***

Rebecca and Allison enjoyed the day. Both were proud grand-daughters and great-grand-daughters of soldier veterans, and besides which Anzac was a public holiday. That Anzac had fallen on a Sunday meant that Monday would be taken in lieu: a long weekend. Ripper!

“Bex, fancy a beer with the diggers?”
“I’m more of a wine girl.”
“Should be okay mate, both world wars happened in France.”
“Then you’re on.”

Rebecca and Allison found their local RSL rather musty, with its flags from various nations, wars, and campaigns around the wall, and the pennants of servicemen’s leagues with which this branch had exchanged pleasantries. Allison could not help noticing that while there were banners from every state and territory of Australia, and many from the United States, Europe and United Kingdom, there was not one banner from a New Zealand RSA.

“Typical!”
“Huh?”
“There’s no banners from Kiwi RSLs. Have you’se mob forgotten the N-Z in Anzac?”
“It’s New Zealand wine.”
Allison smiled.

The girls walked across to where some of the diggers were playing a game of “two up”. This is a simple betting game where two coins are tossed up on a paddle, the idea is to pick whether the coins will land as “Odds” (one tail one head) or “Evens” (two of the same). Occasionally the game will be for “Heads” (two of) or “Tails (two of), with “Odds” indicating a win for the “spinner” or the man operating the paddle. This game is legal only on Anzac Day, and only within a recognised club or pub.

“Wanna play?”
“Nah, let the diggers go for it. It’s their day.”
“Just the two of us, we could bet between the two of us.”
“What’s the bet?”
“Winner gets one on her head, loser gets one on her tail.”
“Huh?”
Allison smiled.
“Simple Bex, you call Odds or Evens on the next throw and I’ll be the other one. If you win, you get a kiss and I get a smack. If I win, it’s the other way around. Next spin I get to call.”
This time it was Rebecca who smiled, she had forgotten that Allison enjoyed the occasional spanking.
“I like it a lot. But when do we have to pay up?”
Allison thought about it.
“We will play for twelve throws, a neat dozen. When that is done we will find a place to be alone and do the deal there.”
“Agreed.”

The girls shook hands.

---------------

After twelve throws the result had fallen with four smacks to Allison and eight to Rebecca. The girls quickly finished their drinks and left the meeting room to transact their business in confidence. A quick scan of an empty corridor led them past the toilets to a smaller meeting room which appeared to be set up for a committee. In the corner was an old Apple Macintosh computer, and some paper and pens. Next to the red pen lay a 45 cm ruler.

“I have the most smacks, so I get to go first.”
“Go where Bex, up or down?”
“Down. That way when you are over my knee I will be sitting on a sore bottom.”
“Yeah, but if I smack you hard then you can get revenge!”
“Allison, if you DON’T smack me hard I will get revenge. Now you sit here,” Rebecca had pulled a chair out from the table, “and you’ll be needing this.”

Allison took her seat, and her weapon, and smiled up at Rebecca.

“Skirts and undies?”
“Skirt up, undies up too since we’re not entirely private.”
“No worries, good plan. Right then Miss Rebecca, bend over young lady.”

Rebecca giggled, but did as she was told.

“Just a tic while I flick your skirt back.”
“Ta, it’s lucky it was a bit cold today.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m wearing my warmest opaque tights.”
“Do you think that...”
WHACK!
“...will help much?”
WHACK!
“Oooh. Maybe no...”
WHACK!
“...ahh...not.”
WHACK!
“So are you...”
WHACK!
“...having fun yet?”
WHACK! WHACK!
“Spirit of th...”
WHACK!
“...eeeee, yah, Anzacs.”
“Get up, s’my go now.”

Rebecca stood and let her skirt flop down over her hands as she massaged her bottom.

“Geeze Louise!”
“I’d rather ‘awesome Alli’ if you don’t mind.”
“You’ll be ‘ouchie Alli’ in a minute my girl.”
“Promises, promises. First you owe me eight kisses.”
“And you’ll owe me four. Pucker up butter-cup.”

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU UP TOO!”

Allison and Rebecca jumped apart at the sound of the roar. In the doorway was an old man in a faded beret and a set of medals across his tweed jacket pocket. Rebecca knew the man as one of her neighbours, and knew that he knew her parents.

“We were just...”
“...looking for a bloody good hiding is what you were. How dare you?”

Allison went to speak but was cut off.

“I don’t give tuppence ha’penny for your explanations girlie. As for you Rebecca, I am extremely disappointed. This room is off limits to you, and is certainly off limits to that filthy kissing between ladies rubbish. Ha, ladies? Ladies of the STREET I bloody well think.”
“We are sorry Mister...”
“...don’t you bloody well ‘Mister’ me Rebecca. You'll address me as sir.”
“Yes sir. We are sorry, we were only playing.”
“Yes well you are too old to be playing such games. If you were small girls I could imagine this is acceptable, but not for young...ladies? Not for grown women. Well you will be sorry, mark my words. Follow me, the pair of you!”

The man marched out.

Allison giggled, Rebecca paled.

“Man, I didn’t get my smacks Bex. Unfair Koala bear.”
“Shut up Al, I think you’re about to get more than enough. And I am going to get more than you.”

The girls followed the man back into the main gathering.

-----------

By the time Allison and Rebecca had returned to the room the angry man had cleared a space near the bar. Two bar stools stood prominently in the centre of the circle where the two up game had previously taken place. Rebecca could see that the crowd included many familiar faces, not all of them war veterans. She saw several of the women and men she worked with, people of her own age. Even the work-experience boy was there; Rebecca hadn’t thought he was old enough to be in the club until she remembered it was Anzac Day and a special occasion. The boy’s parents stood behind him: he was there with his mum. A boy, a work experience boy from year 10 who had to be chaperoned by his mum was about to see her punished. Punished publically.

“There’s no need for pleasantries girlies, everyone knows what you were doing and that you are about to get a bloody good hiding for it. Come here!”

The man was quite bossy, but then he was an ex-serviceman and an old one at that, so Rebecca thought that bossiness probably came with the territory.

“Both of you!”

Rebecca saw that Allison had already started to walk across to the stools, so she gave a little trot and caught up with her friend in time to stop.

“Filth! Have you anything to say?”

The girls looked at each other, but said nothing.

“Right then, up and over!”

Allison moved toward the right hand stool, took a step up on the footrest, and lay herself over the seat. She adjusted her position with her hands and then swung her legs out to maintain her balance. Rebecca noted the position and did the same.

“Your little wager was overheard Rebecca,” began the man, “so your secret is out. All bets need to be cleared in this room. Therefore you will both receive a neat dozen from the spinner.”

Rebecca gulped. Twelve hard smacks with the two-up paddle on top of the eight she had already taken from Allison.

“Furthermore, since you were in a place you should not have been, namely the committee room, and using things which you should not have been, namely the office stationery, you can have another neat dozen from my belt.”

Allison looked across to Rebecca, but Rebecca’s head was down. How humiliating, two dozen whacks in front of a room full of people, including the boy with his mum and the girls she worked with. Tuesday’s return to work after the public holiday would be embarrassing to say the least.

“Six to start. Come in spinner!”
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Slow and deliberate, with force, the smacks came. Rebecca was confused as to why she hadn’t felt anything until she heard Allison gasp. She was next.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Without missing a beat the spinner had finished off a sobbing Allison and started his work on Rebecca. That first smack connected with some of the area covered by Allison in the committee room and Rebecca too let out a gasp.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

“Stand up, both of you! Lift your skirts and drop your stockings!”

Without arguing, or even pausing to think about it, both girls did as they were told.

“Bend back over! It’s a dose of the strap for you.”

Rebecca paused, hadn’t they been threatened with...

“Ah, no. Six more each. Spinner?”

WHACK!

This time Rebecca had been first, and five more followed that surprise smack across her pantied bottom. She heard the six extra smacks and the sobs that accompanied the second stage of Allison’s discipline.

“Now the strap. But first, let’s have those undies down.”

Again the girls obeyed, and resumed their places.

Rebecca though she felt her stool turn as she bent back over it. She looked down along her body and could see a thin gap of flesh between the base of the stool and the top of her pushed down tights. She saw a scuff on the toe of one of her shoes.

She also saw the boy. Rebecca shot her head back and went to look across her left shoulder when...

CRACK!

...the first of twelve fierce lashes burnt her naked and exposed backside. Naked and exposed, for not only were her panties around her mid-thigh and her tights around her knees, but her stool had been swivelled 180 degrees so that her bottom was now facing the group of onlookers rather than the bar. She was left in that position while Allison was similarly displayed and flogged, and then the stools were swivelled again until the crowd could only see the top of her head.

“Get up! Pull yourselves together and leave. The pair of you.”

Rebecca stood and saw that the boy was looking right at her. He smiled.
“Nice stripes there Bex, I’ve not seen so much red on white since the last North Adelaide Roosters game!”
“Or black and blue since Port Power spanked Carlton at the ‘G yesterday,” chimed in one of the men from her work.

Rebecca checked to see that Allison was dressed, then grabbed her hand and bustled out of the club.