Usually the young man went to his lover for a hug and kiss when he arrived home from work. That night he mumbled a quick "Hi.", put their dinner in the microwave and hurried on into their bathroom. The lover knew immediately that something was awry and knocked at the closed door.
"Are you all right?" he asked as he tried the handle. It was locked and he didn't like locked doors between them. "Open up, right now. Do you hear? Open the door or I'll do it." His voice was stern, he meant business.
The door opened and the young man retreated to a corner, trying to hide by turning his back. His lover was not to be put off and turned him around by the shoulders. "You've been in a fight again. The 'Nanny verdict'?" The young man nodded. "What's the other guy look like?" Again, his voice was strict and angry.
"His nose is broken.", the young man answered miserably. He didn't look so good himself. His cheekbone was already bruised, his nose had been bloodied and there was a swelling lip beginning to blossom. The older man carefully examined the wounds, making sure that there was nothing more than surface damage. Thankfully, the white teeth that usually showed up in a cheeky smile were intact and everything else would be healed in a week.
"Get ready for bed.", the older man growled as he went into their bedroom, pulled down the comforter and spread a large towel on the sheet. The young man watched curiously as he removed his clothes. He couldn't believe that they were going to make out the way he was feeling. His head was pounding as he searched for something to take for the pain. The older man came back into the bathroom for scissors, shaving cream and a disposable razor. The young man missed that because he was by that time, in the kitchen, Tylenol in one hand and a coke in the other.
When he returned to the bedroom, he understood what was going to happen. "No! Please, no! I won't get into any more fights! Please! I won't lose my temper again! Please, please! Don't do that to me!! Everyone will laugh at me....please don't!", he pleaded desperately, already starting to cry.
"I've told you before. Fighting is for school yards. You keep acting like a kid, I'm going to make _d_a_m_n_ sure you look like one. Get your little ass over here now!"
The young man wanted to run and it was clear by his body language, but where could he go without his clothes? How could he get through that 6'4" blockade to grab his jeans? He stood for a moment, dejectedly weighing his options.
"NOW, I SAID!" The older man was getting impatient, not a good omen. There were no options available. The young man went to the bed and laid down, keeping his legs and eyes tightly closed as he felt his pubic hair being scissored away. Then his lover's hands forcibly pushed his knees apart to spread the soft cream over his ball sac. The boy's eyes were still closed, tears leaking onto his pillow as he miserably thought of how he was going to explain his absence at the gym every morning to his friends. He would have to work out at home to avoid the humiliation of being shorn until it grew back. Dammit, he hardly had any body hair as it was and now his little bush was being scraped away! That razor had better be sharp, he thought as he gritted his teeth. Owww, that only made his lip feel worse.
At last, it was over. It had seemed like forever but probably wasn't more than ten minutes. "What did you do with those diapers?", his lover's voice was still demanding. _s_h_i_t_, _s_h_i_t_, _s_h_i_t_! Why hadn't he seen that coming? His birthday had been on Halloween and he'd been dressed as a baby. The diapers that had protected his butt from so many swats were hidden in the back of his closet. It was that night that had started the whole chain of events. At least half of the 200 guests at the party had worked in law and medicine, including many members of the young man's family. There had been constant analysis of the verdict all that weekend and that had caused his strong feelings about what was justice and what was not.
What was not justice was what was happening to him, he thought as he went to retrieve the evil bag from the depths of his closet. _s_h_i_t_, he caught a glimpse of himself as he passed the bureau. Oh hell, he looked like an eight year old! He knew what was coming next as he handed a diaper to the man still sitting on their bed next to the towel with his dark hair on it. His lover peered closely at the job he had done, making sure he hadn't nicked his boy by accident. It was his first attempt at shaving him and he was pleased with the outcome as he pulled his 'baby' across his thighs. The first blow was more a patting feel that an actual swat, but then he made sure that he made his displeasure about the fight known. His hand fell hard and sharply over and over and over again, pounding home his every point.
"No more brawling! Do you hear me?! You have to learn to control your temper! Shut up! I'm not going to hear your argument! I said NO MORE FIGHTING and I mean it!!"
The boy was sobbing how sorry he was and he was. His fanny was aching as much as the rest of him and he also cried as he remembered what he had looked like in the mirror. When it was finally over, the man dressed him in the dreaded diaper and then tucked him into bed. The boy heard him in the kitchen running the microwave and then the blender. Well at least the lemon chicken he had made for dinner wasn't going to waste, he thought as he curled himself into a small ball to try to sleep. His lover unfolded him gently as he put a straw to his swollen lip and placed a bag of crushed ice over his bruised cheek. When he sucked on the straw, the soothing taste of the cold milkshake flowed down his sore throat. Maybe being treated like a kid wasn't so bad after all.