CHRISTOPHER - 1
My name is Christopher. I was raised, for the most part, by my aunt and uncle who I hated. When I was 14 they sent me away to live with Jack and Martha Kemp, a minister my uncle had known in his youth.
The Kemps had a 12-year-old son named Alex. It's a long story, but at this point in my life I was kind of a problem kid. My aunt and uncle were mean spirited, unfair people who treated me like dirt -- but no one ever listened to my side of things. The day that Mr. Kemp came for me I could only guess at what lay ahead.
He arrived alone at 9:00 Saturday morning. He was a lot older than I expected -- probably in his early 50's. He was a big man, bigger than me, which I immediately resented. One of the reasons I was able to get my aunt and uncle off my back was that I had grown as big as either of them. That's why I just stopped obeying them all together, because there wasn't anything they could do about it really. It's part of the reason they were sending me away.
The very first thing Mr. Kemp said when he saw me was, "Well, that hair's gotta go." My hair was a little longer than most guys I knew, but not really LONG -- not like a girl's or anything.
"I'm not cutting my hair" I said, defiantly.
"Just you watch that mouth" said my uncle.
"I'm sorry about him, Jack" said my aunt. "You can see the kind of trouble he's been. Just rotten through and through like his --"
"It's okay" interrupted Mr. Kemp. "You all ready to go?" he asked me.
"Yeah" I said, as surly as possible.
"I'd like you to say 'yes, sir' when you answer me" he said.
"I'd like you to kiss my ass" I answered.
"Chris!" said my aunt.
Mr. Kemp held up his hand and said, "It's all right" to my aunt. To me he said, "That's going to cost you later, young man."
"Whatever" I said.
We went out to his car, got in, and drove off. He didn't say a thing the whole time. I caught on right away that he was trying to get me to talk, but I wasn't about to oblige him. Several hours later we pulled up the long driveway leading to his ranch. The whole trip had taken about four-and-a-half hours, and neither one of us had said a word the entire time.
As we got out of the car his son, Alex, came bounding up and leaped into his father's arms.
"Dad!" he said, and kissed his cheek hard. Mr. Kemp patted his son's back, kissed the side of his face and set him down. Mrs. Kemp came out of the house then, and wiped her hands on her apron as she said hello to me and Mr. Kemp.
"Hello" I said, unsure of how to handle all of this. She was beaming at me with a broad smile, her cheeks bright pink. She looked hot and flustered.
Wiping sweat off her forehead she said, "I've just finished making lunch. You must be starving." I nodded vigorously.
Lunch was delicious, and toward the end of it Alex came back from putting his dishes in the sink and sat on his dad's lap like a little kid. I mean, he was 12 for Christ's sake, and there he was leaning back against his dad like some two year old.
Out of the blue Mr. Kemp said, "I guess now's a good time to explain some things to you, Chris" he said.
"I prefer Christopher" I said, just as surly as before. I saw Mrs. Kemp glance sideways at him.
He stared at me hard; did it in a way that made me squirm in my chair. "First of all" he said, "in my experience with troubled youth" -- I HATED that term -- "the problems are almost always more to do with the adults in charge rather than the kid in question."
That got my attention. He continued, "I have no idea what's accurate and what's not as far as what your aunt and uncle have told me, and I frankly don't care. As of today you start a new day, a whole new life. If your aunt and uncle really were the problem, or mostly the problem, you're going to love it here." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"On the other hand" he said, "if you really are the one that's out of control you're not going to be, hmmmmm, as happy about being here." I started to speak, but he held up his hand.
"Hold on. Let me finish" he said. "One thing that is not in question is some of the trouble you've gotten into at school."
"That's not --" I started.
"Hold on" he said, more sternly. "What I'm saying is that I'm giving you a whole new chance here, Christopher. The thing is, you probably have very bad habits and even if your aunt and uncle have been the real problem all this time you might still do something to warrant punishment. Punishment in this house usually takes the form of a paddling, in the livingroom, after a family meeting." My job dropped. Did that mean in front of everyone? Did that mean pants up or down? I couldn't bring myself to ask.
He reached across the table to shake my hand and I took it. Grabbing and holding my hand firmly he said, "I want to welcome you to our family, young man. We're all glad you're here, we're very glad you're here, and I'm warning you right now that the only time I'm going to overlook bad behavior on your part is this morning when you said I could kiss your ass." Alex clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with horror. It sounded so ugly coming out of Mr. Kemp's mouth after such a nice speech, and I was ashamed.
I swallowed hard and quietly said, "I'm sorry."
He gave me that look again that made my insides feel like jelly, then he smiled a little, stood up, and pulled me to him. "Come here, Martha, and hug our new boy" he said, pulling me to him in a tight bear hug and then bodily handing me over to his wife who did the same. When little Alex wrapped his arms around my waist and did the same I clumsily patted his back, and he let go.
Alex helped me get my things from the car and showed me to our room. I didn't think I was going to like sharing a bedroom with a 12 year old, but it was really big and even my half was a lot better than the tiny little room I had had at my aunt and uncle's house.
"You ever get paddled?" I asked him as I was putting my clothes away.
"Yeah" he said, looking at his feet. "Doesn't really hurt, though" he said, brightening.
"It doesn't?" I asked, surprised.
"Hell no!" he said, proudly. "I can take it. You some kind of pussy?"
Maybe he WAS a spoiled brat after all. "I didn't think your dad would let you talk like that" I said, and just then Mr. Kemp walked in the room behind Alex.
"They don't really give a good God _d_a_m_n_ --"
"Alex!" said Mr. Kemp, and Alex just about jumped out of his skin. He instantly burst into tears and said, "Dad, it wasn't me! I mean, I didn't --"
"Just stop right now before you make it worse, son" said Mr. Kemp ominously. "I guess Christopher's going to witness how we handle bad behavior in this house first hand on his very first night. That's too bad. I was really hoping we could all make this a happy day for him, but I guess not." He glanced at his watch and said, "You've got a couple of hours" and then turned and walked out of the room.
"I hate you!" Alex said to me and dove onto his bed, face down.
"What did I do?" I asked.
"Just get out!" he shouted, and I left the room. I found Mr. Kemp working in the garage.
"Mr. Kemp?" I said.
"Yes?" he asked as he continued to work.
"I don't think -- well, see, I think Alex was just trying to impress me is all. Kind of show off, you know? I'm sure he regrets it."
Mr. Kemp laughed and walked over to me. "He regrets getting caught, you mean."
"No" I said. "I'm sure he's really sorry."
Mr. Kemp grabbed the back of my neck and said, "You are a good kid, aren't you? I'm glad." I know I blushed, because my face got so hot. "Listen" he said, "why don't you call me Jack?
"Okay" I said, smiling.
"Showing off or not" he said, "we don't put up with that kind of language in children around here, and that includes you, sir" he said, poking his finger into my chest. I didn't say anything to that, just imagined myself getting paddled in the livingroom in front of everybody. I felt safe and afraid at the same time.
"Why don't you see if Mrs. Kemp needs any help with dinner? We'll meet in the livingroom at 5:00 for Alex." I nodded my head and walked away. "And ask her if you can call her Martha!" he called after me.
At 5:00 that evening we convened in the living room, Martha and I sitting on the couch, Jack in a straight backed chair opposite us. A teary-eyed Alex entered.
"Well, come over here" said Jack, kindly. Alex trudged over to his father and held out a hair brush, which his father took.
"You know why you're being punished, don't you?" asked Jack.
"Yes, sir" said Alex, bursting into tears. "Dad, PLEASE don't, okay? PLEASE" he begged in earnest, as his dad turned Alex's back to us and began undoing his pants. Oh, God, I thought. He spanks on the bare.
I had gotten it like that from my uncle several times, but not since I was 11 or so, and always in the privacy of my bedroom.
His pants loose around his waist, Alex now stood at his father's side. Jack pulled him over his lap, grabbed the back of his pants, and yanked them and his underwear down to the top of Alex's thighs. Without another word he began spanking his bare butt with the hair brush while I stared, my mouth hanging open.
The whole time the brush went SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! against poor Alex's backside I kept imagining it was me. **I** wasn't their son, and they had certainly never seen my bare backside. I resolved then and there that they never would.
"Ow! Ow!!! OW!!! Dad, PLEASE STOP!!!" begged Alex. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The hair brush relentlessly fell over and over again on his upturned cheeks, and they were soon bright red. When Alex was bawling openly and hard, Jack finally stopped and yanked him to standing. Alex quickly grabbed the waist of his pants and yanked them up, turned and fled the room.
"Come over here, Christopher" said Jack, ominously.
"Why?" I said, as I stood up and stepped over to him. "Hey!" I said as he started to pull me over his knee. "I didn't do anything!" I said indignantly.
"Relax, kid" he said as I struggled on his lap.
"Come on, Jack! Let me up! This isn't fair!!!" I yelled.
"Settle down" he said, and his hand rested easily on my butt. I forced myself to be quiet, and started to shake. "You behave in this house" said Jack, "and this is as close as you'll ever get to a spanking, got it?"
I didn't understand, but when he patted my butt hard and said, "Christopher?" I said, "Yes, sir!" hoping that he would let me up. He rubbed his hand across my back a couple of times, patted my butt again and let me up.
"I'm glad I've got one good boy in the house tonight" he said, and I blushed again.