As Brittany finished her lap in what looked likely to be another personal best time, Lauren sighed and waived to her friend, who smiled back from the track. Then, with straight legs, Lauren bent forward slowly to pick up her tracksuit. She was pleased at a gasp from one of the boys behind her as he saw the tight black shorts stretch across her full round bottom. Lauren favoured the high cut shorts, which revealed an enticing amount of her lower cheeks. One of the boys, a discus thrower who knew her slightly, came down to speak to her. Lauren admired his well-developed upper body muscles but somehow the athletes of her own age did not attract her much. She chatted with him amiably until Brittany had put on her tracksuit and joined her. Then the two girls walked away together towards the changing rooms.

‘Not bad for a white chick,’ joked Lauren. Brittany always said that black people made better short distance runners because of their natural physiques. Then Lauren became more serious.

‘Your times have come on so much, Brit. How have you done it?’

‘You know about Jack Anderson, my new coach?’

‘Yeh, of course, but can he really make that much difference?’

‘He can. He’s pretty strict about training and it’s paying off. I think I respond because he’s more focused on me than Benny was.’

‘Did Benny mind when you dropped him?’

‘To be honest I don’t think he did – he’s got so many of the team to look after there just isn’t the time for us. He has to concentrate on those who can compete nationally.’ Both girls were twenty and knew that there was not much time left if they were going to step up to a national level. Soon the better coaches would simply loose interest.

Lauren was silent for a moment as they walked along. ‘My times are crap,’ she said at last.

Brittany turned to her, ‘You’re a great runner – you just don’t work hard enough.’

‘Yeh, Benny says my attitude is crap too. I said I don’t like his attitude either.’

‘What!’ Brittany laughed, shocked. ‘What did he do?’

‘Nothing – just walked off in a sulk. Said he’d rather work with athletes who cared about their running.’ 

‘Do you care?’ asked Brittany.

Lauren put on her affronted look, ‘Course I do.’

‘Care more about running than about men?’ continued Brittany, drily.

It was so obvious that Lauren wasn’t sure of the answer to this that they both laughed.

Recently, Brittany had started to go back home to shower, so the girls said goodbye at the door to the changing rooms. As Brittany walked off, Lauren called after her on an impulse.

‘Brit, do you think he might…?’ She didn’t finish the question, but Brittany could sense what she meant.

‘Do you want me to ask Jack if he could coach you?’

‘Would you mind?’ For the first time that day Lauren sounded eager.

‘Of course not. I’d love us to train together.’

‘Do you think he’d have me?’

Brit seemed uncertain what to say. ‘I think so. He thinks you’ve got talent.’ She did not mention that Jack also thought Lauren was a lazy flirt. Instead, she went on, ‘Only…you would have to do things his way. He has some…’ She paused then went on, ‘Some different training methods.’

Lauren looked puzzled. ‘Oh. Okay. Well I’m cool with new ideas.’

Brit looked at her friend thoughtfully – ‘cool’ was unlikely to be the right word.

                                __________________________________________

The following Tuesday there was a league meet against teams from neighbouring towns. The girls were both competing in the 200m and Jack had agreed to speak to Lauren afterwards about the possibility of coaching her.  

As always for events, Lauren was carefully made up. Many men in the crowd would like to have kissed those glossy lips, and, in fact, a good few of them had done. When the small crowd cheered as Lauren’s name was announced, her white teeth shone in a beautiful smile. Brit was popular and got a good hand too. Her slim body was less well developed than Lauren’s and her eyeliner and lipstick were a little more discreetly applied, but in her way she was just as sexy.

Motivated by the forthcoming meeting with Jack, Lauren ran better than she had for some time and came in a creditable fifth. Afterwards, the girls went to meet Jack in his office at the back of the stadium and he praised Lauren on her run. Brit, who had come second, he slated for not winning. Increasingly, she was pushing to win these local events and her performances were beginning to get attention from regional scouts. He emphasised that it was important to make the most of the events when they were present.

Brittany took his diatribe meekly and listened attentively whilst he catalogued the errors in her running that evening. Lauren was aghast for her friend but wisely remained silent. Finally, Jack simmered down and turned once more to Lauren.

‘Brittany says you might want me to coach you.’

Lauren, who was now not so sure, said, ‘Um yeh, maybe, if you could manage it.’

Not just Brit’s scolding was giving her second thoughts.  While they had been walking to his office, Brit had mentioned Jack’s unconventional warm-up method.

He turned to Brittany, ‘Have you told her about the discipline techniques?’

‘I’ve told her about the before.’ Brit emphasised the word “before” and Lauren turned to her in puzzlement as if to ask, ‘And what happens after?’

‘Well, we’ll start with that. Lauren come round my desk and lie over my lap.’

Lauren was astonished. ‘What! Now? I thought it was only for warm up before events.’

‘It is,’ he replied calmly, ‘but if you’re going to work with me I want to make sure you can take it.’ He glared at her and she found herself doing as she was told. Brit looked on, saying nothing.

The office was very warm and Lauren had not yet put her tracksuit on. She was still dressed only in her tight shorts and sports bra top, in the black and red colours of her team. As she positioned herself across his legs, she felt the soft cotton of his trousers and shirt on her naked midriff. Jack pulled down her running shorts and the black thong underneath, and then got straight down to business. At first Lauren cried out repeatedly as the loud blows bounced off her round black cheeks. As she squirmed, his left arm held her tighter into him. His right hand continued to slap all over her bottom. After a few minutes, the pain was awful and she began to wriggle once more. Her crotch worked into his right knee as he prevented her from escaping off his lap. All the time his hand was landing resounding spanks on her two buttocks. Finally, he stopped and she remained in place, gasping. He smoothed his hand over her bottom, patting and squeezing the cheeks. ‘Good muscle tone but we can improve it,’ he said, half to himself.

When he let her rise, Lauren noticed with embarrassment a damp patch on his right knee. Jack caught her glance but said simply, ‘No problem. Actually it’s a good sign – it shows the warm up is working. The more charged-up for an event you can be the better. It all helps to give that extra edge to your performance.’

Lauren was pulling up her shorts but he stopped her. ‘Not so fast young lady. We’re about to come to “afters”.’ He got up and gently led her round the side of the desk. She stumbled as she tried to stop her shorts from falling down completely. Jack positioned her facing the side of the desk and made her put her hands on her head.  He pulled up her thong and settled it neatly in place with his fingers. After feeling his hard spanks, Lauren was surprised how gentle his hands could be. She felt a slight thrill at his touch but tried to suppress it – she had a feeling that she would need all her strength for “afters”. Jack pulled her shorts a little way up her hips so they would stay put.

Then he turned to Brittany, who was standing with her arms at her side looking at the floor. ‘How many mistakes did I list before?’ he asked her.

‘Four, coach,’ she replied.

‘What were they?’

Brittany began to list them: position on the blocks too high; loss of rhythm on the bend; and missing the dip at the line. But she had forgotten one. Jack gave her a moment to try to remember and she looked at him pleadingly. ‘Too close to the white line on the bend – risk of lane infringement,’ he said finally. ‘How many strokes is that?’

‘Ten, coach. Two for each error and two for forgetting one,’ replied Brittany.

‘Correct. Take your clothes off and fetch the cane.’ Brittany quickly undressed, went over to a cupboard by the door and returned with the longest cane that Lauren had ever seen – four feet of thin rattan. She had been staring wide-eyed with amazement at the exchange between Jack and Brittany but now she gasped aloud. Jack turned to her. ‘I want you to be absolutely sure what it means to be coached by me,’ he said. ‘If you want to win badly enough you’ll want this because it works. Otherwise you’re better off with another coach.’ Lauren was speechless, realising that she had not been allowed to pull up her shorts because he intended to cane her next. She watched aghast as Brittany kissed the cane quickly several times along its length then handed it to Jack.

Naked, she bent over the desk and he stood behind her, letting the tip play over her buttocks. ‘On your toes,’ he ordered, and she stood on tiptoes giving her round buttocks a firmer definition. Lauren could see a few red marks and a couple of small fading bruises left over from an earlier session. She realised now why her friend had started wearing longer shorts and why she no longer showered at the club.

Jack began with a wide stroke taking his arm right back and bringing the cane down from on high with a vicious slash across the middle of Brittany’s bottom.  She squealed and jerked, but held herself in place by gripping the far edge of the desk. Later, Brit told Lauren that the first stroke was always the worst for her. There was no warm-up stroke from Jack – he seemed to take pride in the first one being at least as strong as the others. Each time her mind had forgotten how much it stung. Lauren did not think the second and third were any easier either. She could see Brit’s knuckles whiten as she gripped the desk as hard as she could until the intensity of the pain from each stroke fell away. Lauren had been told to count the strokes but there was a pause after the third as she choked a little with the pain. Her feet came down fully to the floor as she dropped out of position, her body shaking.

‘Three, coach,’ said Brittany, at last, standing on her toes once more. ‘At least that delay didn’t cost more strokes,’ thought Lauren with relief.

The fourth and fifth came down in parallel stripes on her buttocks and Brit began to sob gently. ‘Think about your times, Brittany,’ Jack said gently. ‘Do you want to go on?’ Here at least there was no hesitation.  ‘Definitely, coach,’ she replied.

‘Good girl. We’re half way through, so hold on,’ he said, lining up the sixth stroke slightly higher than the others. It came down as a fierce cut just below the top of her bottom. ‘Six, coach,’ she yelped.

There was a long pause before the next stroke. Jack let the cane run up and down Brittany’s cheeks, over the welts that were beginning to form. Lauren could see the bulge in his trousers, which told her he was sexually aroused by caning Brit. Instead of being appalled, she was surprised to find herself wondering if he would be as aroused when he came to beat her. Lauren had already realised she would have to take the punishment – at least today. She couldn’t watch Brit suffer like this and then just walk away without receiving the same. Something told her that to refuse the cane would cause them to drift apart, whereas to share it would bring the friends closer together.

The swish of the seventh stroke awoke Lauren from her reverie in time to see the cane wrap round the middle of Brittany’s buttocks. The cane cut hard across the lines of earlier blows and the girl could not stand it.  She yowled and danced from foot to foot holding her bottom. Jack put the cane on the desk and held her gently from behind, calming her. ‘Okay, okay, settle down,’ he said softly. ‘You don’t want any extras do you?’ Lauren noticed his soothing hands run over Brit’s naked body. She also noticed that Brit did not seem to mind. Her punished bottom moved back against Jack’s crotch and Lauren could see a definite stiffening of her nipples. It was all very strange and…yes, thought Lauren – sexually more exciting than anything she’d experienced before.

Eventually, Brit’s sobs trailed away and Jack let go of her. ‘I want to concentrate on the tops of your legs for the last three strokes,’ he told her. ‘Lie back on the desk with your legs in the air.’

A small pile of books and papers stood at one end of the desk. Without being told, Brittany carried them over to a side table before obediently mounting the desk. Gingerly protecting her bottom, she turned onto her back and raised her legs. She brought her knees towards her face and put her hands behind them to hold them in place. There was a sharp contrast between the skin of her lightly tanned legs and her red and bruised bottom. Jack rested the cane on the back of her legs and let it run down to a point just above the reddened area. Then he quickly slashed the cane down on the chosen place. Brittany counted eight through gritted teeth. She rocked a little from side to side but managed to hold on to her legs.

 Jack beckoned to Lauren, ‘Hold Brittany’s legs in place so she can steady herself on the desk. These last two will be very hard.’

Lauren heard Brittany groan at this, her tearful eyes watching Jack as he swished practice strokes through the air.

Lauren held Brit’s knees firmly against her breasts, enabling her to grip the sides of the desk with her hands. She could see that Jack had a good view of more than just the tops of Brittany’s legs. The pink lips of her vulva were clearly visible in this position, hedged by short blonde pubic hair. Lauren had to admit to herself that, in spite of the pain, Brit seemed to be taking some enjoyment from her situation – possibly the sight of the huge erection in Jack’s trousers helped. Lauren looked at him with interest. Although older, he was certainly fit and good-looking. She herself was beginning to find the scene erotic. In a perverse sort of way she was even looking forward to her own caning. She was keen to know how much it would hurt and whether the submitting to it would arouse her as she guessed it aroused her friend.

Again her thoughts were broken by the crack of the cane and the shuddering of Brittany’s body against hers. Lauren just managed to prevent her friend’s legs from jerking out of her grasp. Brittany let out a prolonged heart-rending whimper. Just for a moment, Lauren wondered if Brittany was play-acting a little – that stroke had not seemed quite so hard but her wail had been worse than ever. During her own caning she determined to try not to cry out at all.

‘Nine, sir,’ said Brittany, quietly. Lauren noticed the change in title and she thought Jack did as well. Perhaps he had also noticed the acting because he certainly made the last stroke one to scream about. He turned his whole body into it, bringing it down from such a height that Lauren jumped at the noise as it lashed Brittany’s legs.  The girl howled in agony. She writhed so hard that Lauren had to let go and she lay on her side on the desk, her pretty face screwed up and in tears.

‘Ten, coach,’ she said through her sobs at last, and then, accusingly, ‘You’ve never hit me as hard as that before.’ Her tears continued and he stooped solicitously by the desk.

‘I know,’ he said, gently, ‘I wanted to show your friend what a brave girl you are.’

He helped her carefully from the desk and held her to him while she cried into his shoulder. Lauren stood looking at Brit’s behind and the one welt across the tops of her legs which was much bigger and redder than the rest.

‘My bottom’s going to be welted like that in a few minutes,’ she thought to herself, adding with dry humour, ‘black and red – like the team colours.’

She noticed her shorts had fallen to the floor whilst she was holding Brittany and stooped to pull them up her legs, exactly to the position Jack had first placed them. She put her hands on her head again and waited patiently while Jack soothed Brittany. At length, he said, ‘We better get something on that bottom.’ He led Brittany by the hand to his chair, ignoring Lauren. She simply watched, entranced, as Jack took a jar of medicinal lotion from the desk drawer and gently pulled Brittany across his lap. Her crying had subsided now apart from the occasional sob and she lay quietly as he rubbed cream very carefully into the punished skin. It must have been soothing because Brittany began to sigh a little, especially as he covered the tops of her legs. It looked to Lauren as though his fingers strayed between her legs more than they needed to, but Brittany did not complain.  Finally, he gave each red, glistening cheek a squeeze and a pat and stood her up.

‘Face the wall, hands on head,’ he ordered.

As Brit went, she seemed to notice her friend again, and put a brave face on her humiliating position. ‘That’s the bit I like best,’ she smiled weakly, and Lauren smiled back sympathetically.

Jack now turned to her. ‘Well, Lauren, now you’ve seen what the post-competition de-briefing session is like.’

‘“De-briefing”,’ thought Lauren, ‘he can’t be serious.’ And in fact there was twinkle in the coach’s eye.

He continued, ‘How many errors in technique did you make today?’

Lauren thought carefully. She wanted to be brave but not foolhardy. Anyway, Jack couldn’t have focused on her own run for very long if he had been watching Brit so closely throughout the race. To herself she counted five errors.

‘Two,’ she said.

‘I think you can do better than that,’ he smiled.

‘Well three…maybe four, I’m not sure,’ she hesitated.

‘Well I am. Seven,’ he said firmly.

‘Seven!’

Jack listed them one by one and she had to acknowledge that he was right.

‘In addition, you didn’t get your tracksuit on after the race.’

 ‘But that’s not an error.’

‘Not in technique, but it’s still an error in my book. I realise you can’t flirt as effectively with your beautiful body covered up but I’m more interested in your health than your love life. I’ll ignore your shorts this time – but start wearing something more suitable for serious athletics.’ He paused. ‘So that’s eight in total. How many strokes of the cane is that?’

‘Sixteen,’ said Lauren, gloomily. At least the fact that he thought her body was beautiful was some comfort.

‘Well don’t be too despondent. You’re not signed up with me yet so there’s no need to cane you this time. You’ve already seen enough today to know what to expect.’

Lauren was shocked. She had been steeling herself for her ordeal and now he wasn’t going to go through with it. ‘But…but..,’ she stammered, ‘that’s not fair.’

Jack was surprised, ‘I don’t understand. What isn’t fair? That I’m not going to cane you?’

Lauren realised she didn’t quite know herself. It didn’t really make much sense to explain that she wanted to be treated like Brittany to preserve their friendship.

‘Well it’s not…it’s not fair on Brit letting me see you punish her if you don’t do the same to me.’

While Jack was thinking about this, she came up with another angle. ‘And it’s not fair on me. How do I really know I can take the caning before I sign-up…? She paused. ‘That is…if you’ll have me, coach,’ she added modestly.

Jack pondered. ‘Brittany, come and join us. What do you think?’ Brittany came over from the wall and smiled warmly at Lauren. ‘Thanks,’ she said simply. Then the two girls hugged and gave each other a little kiss. Brittany was about to return, unbidden, to face the wall, when he stopped her.

‘Of course we haven’t yet told Lauren about training discipline between competitions, have we?’

‘No, coach,’ said Brittany. She turned to Lauren, reassuring her, ‘Don’t worry – it’s not as bad as the cane.’

‘Better show her,’ said Jack. Brittany hurried over to the cupboard and returned with a large wooden paddle.

‘I apply this sometimes to spur on your training sessions. Since you’re sure you want to try everything up front, I suggest six of the paddle and ten of the cane.’ Jack waited for the girl’s response.

‘That’s a good deal, Lauren,’ prompted Brittany.

‘That’s fine by me,’ said Lauren.

Now Jack seemed to have second thoughts. ‘Although, like Brittany says, the paddle is easier than the cane, so that’s not really the same as the sixteen which you were due.’

‘What is the same?’ asked Lauren, slowly.

‘Ten of each,’ replied Jack.

Twenty whacks with these implements seemed pretty daunting to Lauren. She recalled how Brit had suffered with just ten of the cane. But she had talked herself into this so she knew she had to put a brave face on it.

 ‘Okay,’ she sighed resignedly.

‘Right. Let’s move,’ Jack was business-like all of a sudden. ‘Lie face down on the desk, legs firmly together.’

Holding her shorts to stop them falling, Lauren climbed on the desk and lay face down. As she did so she glanced towards Jack’s trousers: nothing much was happening there yet.

 To her surprise, the coach pulled up her shorts as she lay in place. He carefully adjusted them and smoothed the material over her bottom cheeks. Lauren sneaked another look at his crotch as he took the paddle from Brittany – now there were definite signs of life. ‘Maybe these shorts aren’t so unsuitable after all,’ she thought.

Then the first blows fell. The coach delivered two mild whacks to each buttock in turn and then paused. Lauren had screwed up her face at the stinging but she had not made a sound. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Lauren.

‘Good. That was just for starters.’ He tapped the paddle gently on her bottom, and then suddenly brought it down three times hard in quick succession on her left buttock. Lauren’s head jerked and she let out a squeal of painful surprise. Jack paused again tapping her bottom once more. When the blows didn’t come immediately, Lauren knew she had something special to expect. She tensed her body and rested her head on her hands beneath her on the desk. The tapping stopped, she heard a faint movement as the paddle was raised high and then the tremendous whack as it was brought down heavily on her right cheek.

‘Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ she howled, her head jerking up and her legs flailing across the desk.

She had broken her aim of trying to hold in all sounds but it couldn’t be helped.

‘Everything still okay?’ asked Jack innocently.

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied through gritted teeth. Lauren slowly moved back into position as the stinging died down.

‘Actually, there is an extra stroke for each swear word, but you weren’t to know that, so I’ll overlook it. But be careful, you know it from now on.’

He tapped her right buttock again before another blow just as heavy fell on it. But now Lauren was prepared; she let out a small sigh but nothing more. Jack did not pause long before the final blow crashed down, again onto her right buttock. After the pain eased, Lauren was able to relax her body. Part one of her ordeal was over.

Jack let her lie there for a moment to recover while he led Brittany back to the wall and made her face it once more with hands on head. Lauren did not hear what he was saying. She had begun to think, almost admiringly, about how well he could extract the maximum pain with his various implements. Strangely enough she was not scared of what was to come.  She had butterflies in her stomach, just like she did before a race. She just had to perform well: try not to swear or cry or scream too loud, and stick it to the end.

Then Jack helped her off the desk and told her to take off her top. He watched as her firm, perky breasts became visible. He said, ‘Stand in the middle of the floor and touch your toes.’ She still had her running shoes on and she curled the ends of her fingers round their toes. Her legs were perfectly straight and together, but Jack found the need to approach her from behind and make tiny adjustments to her position. He pushed her hips together; he felt the line of her thigh muscles to ensure they were taut; and then he moved his hands to the band of her shorts and pulled them slowly down to rest just below her bottom cheeks. He was careful to leave the black thong in place. As he walked round her to check her position, Lauren raised her head slightly and caught sight of his huge erection. ‘Whoa!’ she thought, ‘He needs tighter underpants to keep that thing under control.’ Then she heard him pick up the cane and swish it several times. And then she felt the first stinging blow. She stifled her yelp, still determined to try to be quiet, but she rocked forward, nearly losing her position.

‘Well?’ asked Jack.

She had forgotten to count. ‘One, coach,’ she said quickly.

The second and third strokes fell. Jack was grouping them in the centre of her bottom. Lauren felt each stroke as though it were slitting her skin. She knew red welts would soon be appearing. She knew the days of showering at the club were over.  He played the cane over her bottom before landing two more strokes in quick succession. The second was particularly cruel and Lauren could not prevent a scream escaping before managing to count it. ‘Five, sir!’

Jack came up close behind her and felt her bottom. His gentle touch traced the growing welts ‘You’re going to be fine,’ he reassured her.

‘Just five more to go,’ thought Lauren, ‘Hold on in there.’

Then she felt Jack drop her shorts to the floor. Staying bent over she stepped out of them. He pulled her thong down below her buttocks then put his hands between her thighs, pushing them apart. ‘Now widen your stance,’ he said. Lauren almost lost balance as she obeyed, stretching forward to support herself with hands on the ground, as he pushed her legs wider. Finally, her feet were well apart and her palms were flat on the floor.  He had left her thong where it was, and now the material was pulled in a taut line joining her thighs.  She was aware that in this position Jack would have a good view of her shaven pussy. She hoped very much he was going to be careful where the cane landed. But she need not have worried on that score. The following four strokes were delivered to the tops of her thighs, two on each side. They brought tears to her eyes and she could barely hold her position, but she still made little noise. There was a pause as Jack tapped her bottom none too gently with the cane. ‘Well you’ve managed to keep very quiet during your punishment, young lady,’ he said at last. ‘I think the last stroke should test your resolve to the limit.’

Lauren waited uneasily. Finally it came with a loud crack. She could imagine that he had put his full force into it just as he had done with Brittany’s tenth. The sound was unmistakeable – the stroke had been so hard that the cane had broken across her buttocks. Lauren couldn’t help leaping out of position and dancing round the room. ‘Ow…Ow!’ she yelled. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Jack put the cracked cane down and came to hold her. Lauren found herself wanting to push her body into him just as Brit had done. The feel of his erection in her stomach was rewarding in a strange way. At last, she stopped crying.

‘Good girl,’ said Jack. ‘Now for the easier part.’

He led her to the chair and pulled her over his knee. She felt the soothing cream ease into the welts. His firm grip massaged it into each cheek. In addition, she felt the tips of his fingers repeatedly brush her vagina. At one point, she almost begged him to stroke her. He must have known how much she was enjoying this. When he had finished she made no move to get up. She raised her head to see if Brittany was looking but Brit was still facing the wall. Lauren stayed over his lap and parted her legs. He took the hint and rubbed his fingertips rhythmically in just the right place.  She groaned in pleasure and Brit spun round from the wall to see what was happening.

‘Face the wall, young lady,’ said Jack sharply, ‘unless you want your caning over again.’ Brit turned back obediently. Lauren’s body relaxed and Jack helped her to her feet.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

‘No problem – but don’t expect it next time. We need to channel your energies into performance on the track.’ He led her across to the wall and made her stand next to Brit.

‘You’ll both stand there for another ten minutes and think about your performances today.’

Lauren could feel the coach’s eyes looking at their naked backs and welted bottoms. She felt disloyal to her friend for hoping that Jack thought her sexier than he thought Brit.

After a while, Jack came up behind them and laid a hand on each of their behinds. He patted them then told them to get their tracksuits on.

He spoke to Lauren. ‘You’ve done well today. I’d be happy to be your coach. So come with me if you want – but…’

‘There’s always a but,’ thought Lauren. She looked at him questioningly and Jack went on.

‘I’d expect to punish you more severely than I do Brittany. She’s a conscientious girl and you are lazy and flirtatious. That may not be the last cane I would break beating discipline into you. Understand?’

‘Well I suppose you’re just going to need a bigger supply of canes,’ replied Lauren.

Jack and Brittany both laughed.

 ‘I’m beginning to think Benny may have been wrong about your level of commitment,’ said Jack.