Moving in with Dad 2

by Brad and Nate <B_radleym@yahoo.com.au>

"Jas?", a rekindling of the pain in my butt wakes me up. (It turned out to be a love pat). I feel disoriented at first. No ringing of the alarm clock. And a dull throb on my lower regions. Reminds me too much of my growing up years. Then I remember. Im not in my apartment. Im back at the house I grew up in. And this is not my growing up years but my adult years – the next two years to be spent under my fathers eagle eye. Again. Uh oh. What did I let myself into?

"Come on kiddo. We have a full schedule today. But first, let me check you dont have a temperature."

Yup! Im back all right. "Awww.... Daaad!"

Dad takes my blanket off. He inserts the readied thermometer on my exposed butt, still framed by the too-small teddy bear pjs.

He goes on with what he wants to say as if I didnt interrupt - a captive audience in me.

"Random fever checks are part of this household. You know that. And a lot of other rules which you seem to have forgotten. So were going to go over them a bit over breakfast so well both be on the same page. Youll be living here in the next two years and I think the sooner you get reacquainted with the way things are done, the better it would be for us."

He takes off the thermometer. "No fever." He announces. "So get moving!" (another love pat) "Ill expect you down for breakfast in 15 minutes, ok?"

I sleepily grunt my agreement, not really understanding at that point how much of the rules from my not-so-distant school days will be reinforced.

I fix my bed then wake myself up with a quick shower then go down to breakfast. Thankfully, Im an adult now so Dad had no comment when I went to the coffeemaker to pour myself a little wake-upper.

But I get to my usual place on the table and I see a glass of orange juice AND milk there as well.

"Daaaaadddddd!! Whats this????"

"Jasper Colin Williamson, I dont know if city folks start the day with a whine but I expect a civil good morning from my son. Or I might give you a reason to consider the morning not good at all – if you get my drift."

My Dad calling me by my full name has never bode well for my backside and I decide to heed his warning. I can barely sit as is. "Good morning, Dad."

"Thats better. Good morning, son."

"Dad?" I try the adult-to-adult tone of voice. "I really appreciate this full spread" gesturing to the breakfast of toasted bread, bacon, scrambled eggs PLUS the conspicuous orange juice and milk. "But Im really not ahm that hungry."

Dad makes a grimace. "The few times I have visited with you in your city apartment, your refrigerator only had take-out, days-old food. And that stops today."

Dad pats my hand in a surprising gentle manner. "Jas? Im very proud of you for this decision to juggle work and further studies. And I would be remiss in my duty as your father if I dont help you reach this goal."

I cant help it. Praise from my father always leaves me with a warm feeling inside. And hes proud of me, too. Im practically in cloud nine. "Thanks, Dad."

He returns my smile warmly and points to the food. "Reaching this goal will entail a lot of hardwork and the right attitude. _c_o_c_k_iness will only give you a false sense of importance that will hinder your success. So to help you re-adjust, well start with your college rules...."

"BUT DAD!" I cant help but protest. "Im an adult now!"

He gives me THE LOOK. "I know you are an adult. And you act like it at least most of the time." Point taken. And I lower my eyes in defeat.

"As I was saying, well start with your college rules and we can negotiate from there. You show me youre responsible enough to be given more leeway...."

"Oh ok....." Piece of cake, I thought.

"Or show me youre not mature to handle it and well go back to HIGH SCHOOL rules."

"Oh come on, Dad! Hello???!!!"

"Keep that up. That kind of attitude will surely show me how mature you are."

I settle for a resigned pout.

"Now come on. Nutritious meals give you the energy to face the day, son. So eat."

I give another exasperated sigh. But soon, my easy-going nature reasserts itself and we talk about school, work and sports.

As we finish breakfast, I automatically clean up the table and take the dishes to the sink. He cooks. I wash the dishes. I was surprised how easy it was to fall into our old routine.

I also took this time to clarify a few of the rules. "Ahm Dad, when you said college rules? I mean like ok, so I got to be home 28 minutes after my last class. Right?"

Dad nods as he goes about cleaning the kitchen.

"But like if I was coming from work, I get more time, right? Because I really cant just go home right away. You know? My collegues and I might want to unwind a bit or something, you know? So the rules only apply on the days I have school. Correct?"

Dad pauses and shakes his head. "Nope. Its the same as college, you want to go somewhere, you ask permission beforehand. Ask permission, Jasper, not mere inform me of where you will be. Otherwise, your curfew still stands."

"But, Dad. Thats impossible! How can I predict in advance if my officemates want to go out? What do I say? I cant go with you guys because Daddy doesnt like it and my ass will get spanked. This is unreasonable!"

"Jasper...." Dad stops my tirade. "Believe me when I say you DO NOT want me to go to your office to haul your sorry ass home."

"Ok. Fine!" I give Dad another glare. "But what about bedtime? Going to bed at 10 pm is ridiculous."

"I realize you need to re-adjust your biological clock and to help you, you will go to bed one hour earlier this week."

"Daaaaaaaaddddd......"

"Care to make it two hours for two weeks?"

"No, Sir."

"Good boy."

I lost interest in clarifying the rest of the rules as Im beginning to think there will be no consideration whatsoever given to me on account of my work.

Dad noticed I was finished with the dishes. He gives me a light love pat. "Well, get showered and dressed. Im getting you some stuff in the mall."

"A new lap top?" I tease him.

Dad laughs heartily and gives me another love pat. "Go on, you scamp!" Love pats are signs of affection from Dad. I just hope he wont do it in public. Shiver.

But as I was going up the stairs, Dad hollers, "Jasper? You know I dont abide boxers for my boy. So you might as well bring down all your boxers when you come down. Were dropping them off at the Salvation Army."

"What?" I thought I misheard him.

"I said bring down ALL your boxers. You very well know I dont allow you to wear anything but white cotton briefs and underoos. Theyre best for boys."

I was still in a state of disbelief. This is too much. "Dad! I dont think youve noticed but Im 23! An adult! And I can wear any kind of _d_a_m_n_ underwear I want."

"JASPER COLIN WILLIAMSON! When you get changed, get back down here, and meet me in the bathroom. Your language needs to be worked on!" Dad yelled up the stairs.

"But.... Yes sir." I call back. I gather up my boxers and throw them in a bag in a huff. I shower, shave, and brush my teeth. I put on a pair of boxers, my jeans, and my Eminem t-shirt and socks and go downstairs. I turn towards the bathroom, but Dad stops me.

Dad glares at my shirt, "I see you're wearing a shirt that you know I don't approve of. Get it off, NOW! In fact, strip, as I want to see if you've got correct clothing and I want to inspect your job of showering."

I turned to face him, "Now wait a minute." I begin to feel Im in a bad time-warp dream. "HELLO??? I'm an adult now, Dad. Not a little boy. Are we still in Kansas or what?"

Dad got a stern look on his face, "Either you strip now or I strip you. And if I strip you, your butt will get a talking to. You make the choice."

Defeated, I removed my jeans and socks and set them on the sofa and then lowered my boxers.

I looked up to see the angry look on Dad's face, "Didn't I tell you that you are not to wear boxers?"

"But I dont have any other kind of ..." I begin.

"I said," Dad says sternly, "to bring ALL your boxers down. And ALL would mean this pair, too." Dad looked down at the boxers laying on the floor then back up at me, "Ok, hands on your head. I need to inspect you and your job of cleaning."

"You don't have to inspect me, Dad," I protest, "I'm 23 and I know how to clean myself."

"We'll see," Dad says, as he begins to check my hair and my face. "Whats this goo?" he rubs his fingers at the little hair gel I gave my bangs.

Then my neck and ears, "You've got some dirt behind your ears and on the back of your neck."

"Dad!" I protest, rolling my eyes at him. "Honestly!"

"You know my expectations," Dad replies. He checks my chest, stomach, back, arms, legs, hands, and feet. "Im glad youre keeping in shape". It felt ridiculous to be 23 and naked and being inspected by Dad. But the funny thing was, I was apprehensive about this inspection as if his opinion really mattered. Because deep down, it really did.

Then Dad moves to the two most embarassing areas. First, he pats my buns. "Hmmm.... dont worry. No damage from last night, Jas. Now bend over a bit."

I bend a bit stiffly, trying to act nonchalant. But Dad parts my butt cheeks gently and inspect my crack. "It's a little dirty. You could've done better. Lets see if we have time to give you an enema tonight."

"An...." I choke. "en.... enema? Dont you think Im a bit old for that kind of thing now?" I try the adult tone of voice once more.

"You will never be too old for an enema, Jasper. Its a healthy way of keeping you clean" he says matter-of-factly.

Then Dad moves to my _c_o_c_k_ and balls. He checks them, then pulls back the skin, "Some dirt here, too. Hmmmm.... Remind me to make an appointment for you with Dr. Taylor. I want to make sure youre healthy enough to take on this gruelling schedule of work and studies at the same time."

I stare at him. "Its ok, Dad. We have a company doctor who checks us out. He gave me a clean bill of health." And he doesnt do embarrassing tests either, I add silently.

"Still..." Dad shrugs.

"Are we finished?", I squirm a bit. "Ill be more meticulous in the future, ok?" I wanted to end the inspection.

Dad nods "Yes, you will." He gives me several his love pats. "Because starting tonight, and until I'm sure you've learned properly, I'm going to give you a bath, and make sure you get clean."

This was the last straw. "I'M NOT A BABY!" I shout at Dad, "I'm 23, not 3! I AM AN ADULT, DAD! AN A-D-U-L-T! ADULT!"

"Young man, you don't yell at me like that or give me attitude," Dad shakes his head at me. "You will do as I say and you won't give me any grief. Is that clear?"

Dad grabbed my ear and dragged me to the bathroom. He soaped up a spare toothbrush. "OPEN!"

"Dad, please," I protest, "Come on. Is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is." Dad counters, "You need to watch your language. You are my child and no child of mine will use those words in my house."

I turn to run but Dad catches me and grabs the wooden hairbrush he keeps in the drawer. WHACK! WHACK! He landed a swat to each of my butt cheeks.

"OWW! OWW!" I yelp out and sniff, "Dad, no! Ill cooperate." I don't enjoy the brushing with soap, but better that, than a sore bottom.

I open my mouth and close my eyes as Dad brushes my teeth vigorously - front, back, bottom, top, my gums and tongue. After 5 minutes, he finishes and let's me rinse.

Grateful, I rinse thoroughly, getting as much as the taste out of my mouth as possible. I thought it was over so I go to get my clothes but Dad stops me and steers me into the front room.

He sits down in a chair and pulls me across his lap. "NO! DADDY!" I beg. Daddy pays no attention to me and soon:

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"You SMACK! will SMACK! not SMACK! disobey SMACK! me SMACK! when SMACK! I tell SMACK! you SMACK! to SMACK! do SMACK! something SMACK! and SMACK! you SMACK! will SMACK! not SMACK! yell SMACK! at SMACK! me SMACK! or SMACK! get SMACK! an SMACK! attittude SMACK! with SMACK! me SMACK!. DO SMACK! you SMACK! Under SMACK! Stand SMACK! Me SMACK! young SMACK! man SMACK! ? Do SMACK! You? SMACK!"

I cry and squirm, surprised at how easily I revert to the childish "Daddy".

"Yes, Daddy. I understand. I'm sorry. No more!"

Dad rubs my back some until I calm down. He then lifts me up and hugs me tightly. "Good boy. You're beginning to learn and re-adjust. It's just going to take some time and I love you, so I'm willing to take that time." Daddy comforts me and then takes me to the time out chair and sets the timer for 20 minutes. My butt is too sore to protest. So I meekly sit on my bruised nates and try to discreetly wriggle and squirm. Just like in the past, I dont find I comfortable position for my butt and it feels like forever.

But then, the time winds down eventually. And I get set free.

Daddy stands me up and I grimace.

"Daddy, please don't --" I begin when I see the clippers and scissors in his hands, but a glare quiets me down. I am a thoroughly chastened boy by this time. Yes. Boy. The earlier attitude adjustment worked and has reminded me of my boy status with my Dad. What is coming is just a confirmation of that status.

He sets to work and within 15 minutes, I'm hairless everywhere but my head.

He lifts up my face and traces the tears that I didnt know escaped from my eyes. "Hey! Come on, Jas. Were doing this because I love you." He hugs me tight. "I wont stand for my son to be one of those wastrel bums. I want you to reach your full potential and you will only achieve that with the right attitude. Your stay away from me gave you a false sense of importance and confidence. I want my boy back. Hes hardworking on his studies and is a loving and respectful son. That combination will always spell success. And I promise to bring that boy back. Ok?"

He rubs some lotion on me to make my skin feel better and then points to where I left my jeans.

I nod, comprehending what he said in an emotional level. In truth, I agree with him. But society has given me a different rolemodel and it is that image I am still struggling with.

My jeans are still there. But in place of the plaid boxers, I see an old pair of plain, white cotton briefs. I reluctantly put them on. In place of the Eminem shirt, I see my Sponge Bob t-shirt. Oh boy! If my officemates could see me now, I dont think the guard will even let me in our office building.

Dad combs my hair. This time, without the gel. And I make another realization. I did miss this type of loving attention from my Dad when I was living alone.

Dad gives me a kiss on the cheek, and a love pat to urge me on. We head out to the car where a pillow is thoughtfully in place in the passenger seat.

We reach the mall without any further incident. Dad pauses before letting me out - having child proofed my lock - and stared down, "You will behave in there. You will do as you are told. You will remain with me at all times unless you have permission. And you will be polite. I expect "Yes, Sirs; No, Sirs; Yes Maams; and No, Maams" to everybody. I've got my belt on so if you disobey me, misbehave or cause any problems, then it will come off. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir." I assure him, not anxious to meet his belt.

I get out of the car and he locks it, then takes my hand.

I jerk away and glare at him.

He whirls me around. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"OWWWW! YIPEESS!! EEEE!" I yelp.

"Did I not just tell you to behave and obey me?" Dad asked,

"Yes, Daddy, you did," I nod. "I'm sorry."

"Good! Let's go inside," he deliberately holds my hand (no protest from me this time) and we walk towards the mall.