words between stars indicate song lyrics.
I cant sleep tonight Everybody saying everythings alright Still I cant close my eyes Im seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights Sunny days...*
Sunny days? You must be joking, it was another pissing down day in York in February with a distinct lack of generous foreign tourists outside the Yorvic Viking centre. A bedraggled local school party waited their turn for entry, two dozen damp twelve year olds with no interest in history, swapping playstation cheats and giggling over the busker singing Travis outside the Body Shop. God, I bloody hated kids. If the little bastard with the spiky hair flicked a chewing gum wrapper at me one more time I was going to tear out a throat, my own, failing getting my hands on his.
Where have you gone? I get the strangest feeling you belong Why does it always rain on me? Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?*
"Been a sodding while since you were seventeen mister, I bet you came here with the first Vikings!" The row of youngsters dissolved once more into hilarity.
I ignored the smart mouthed little sod and sang on, nodding appreciation as a hand reached from beneath a dripping umbrella to drop a coin in my box. Okay, I was no teenager, and the face that had stared back at me from the bathroom mirror this morning bore the look of someone who had endured a bloody hard paper round, but really, at twenty seven, I wasnt that far passed from youths burgeoning beauty, not in my own mind.
Why does it always rain on me? Even when the sun is shining I cant avoid the lightning...*
That was true, one way and another, in recent times, Id been struck more times than a cow on a fell side. Funny how some songs seemed to meld themselves so well to your mood, I was a great advocate of mood music, and Travis, bless them, suited my current mood very well.
Im being held up by invisible men Still life on a shelf when I got my mind on something else Sunny days Where have you gone?*
Good question, where had they gone, had there ever really been any? Sunny days were as much in the mind as the atmosphere, and in my mind it had been dark for weeks, months, sod it, lets go all out here, years, centuries in fact, only, that was going a bit far, being a bit hyperbolic, as a certain educated someone would say. Lets just say Id been a bit pissed off for a while. Okay, okay, Id been pissed off big time for at least a week and my mind was definitely on something else, in fact a few something elses.
I get the strangest feeling you belong Why does it always rain on me? Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?*
Probably, when I thought about it. I had lied when I was seventeen, in fact Id lied constantly since the day I was born, okay, okay, hyperbole in action again there, I couldnt actually speak when I was born, its hard to lie when you dont have the language for it, but you get the picture. Yes, I strummed the soggy strings of my guitar, and sang into the rain with self pitying vigour, my whole life had been a lie. For example, my mam and dad thought I was a vicar in a small parish just outside of York, when in fact I hadnt been to church since Christmas Eve 1999, and that was only to get out of the cold after being evicted from my flat for not paying the rent.
I didnt think news of my mythical religious calling would ever be a problem, I was lying to make my parents proud of me, to stop them worrying, my mam had always worried a lot about me and my day dreaming ways. My dad worried too, he worried that Id end up in prison as a shiftless criminal. Living, as they did, a Spartan life in the Outer Hebrides, with no intention of leaving them in order to visit the son who had nobly chosen to guide the heathen along the path of the Lord, it seemed reasonable to assume that the lie would go undetected. I made sure my letters home to them were appropriately clerical in tone and left it at that. Then fate had played a dirty hand, and for some reason theyd given in to the lure of modern living and had a telephone installed. I shuddered, still slightly traumatised by the unexpected phone call, though not as traumatised as someone else I could mention.
I cant stand myself...*
That was also true, I couldnt stand myself, couldnt stand the fact that at my age, I was still no closer to knowing what I DID want for a career. I just hadnt had the right breaks, nothing seemed to suit my unique talents. Id been forced out of my last job as assistant manager in a big hotel when artistic differences with the manager had become unbearable. Hence, here I was busking to try and make enough to pay for the place I was currently dossing in.
Why does it always rain on me? Even when the sun is shining I cant avoid the lightning Oh, where did the blue skies go? And why is it raining so?*
Because God hated me, thats why, it was bloody obvious. As if to prove the point a cyclist rode by, sending sprays of dirty rainwater from his wheels spraying into my face, causing the row of school kids to crack up even further. I could feel the self pity start to work its way up to my tear ducts. Still, I kept singing in the rain.
Its so cold I cant sleep tonight Everybody saying everythings alright...*
Trouble was, no one was saying it was alright, no one, and it wasnt right, somebody OUGHT to be saying everythings alright, and I knew who that certain somebody was, and they werent, and it wasnt right. I was actually cold, couldnt remember the last time Id slept well, well, I could, but Im not in the mood for admitting it. In actual fact I hadnt slept at all for three nights, sleeping rough in a tent in February was no fun at all, and I was lonely, a few words exchanged with passing strangers meant nothing when you burned to share the words in your mind, the emotions in your heart with someone who understood, who shared then completely, who agreed with them, who drank the same brand of philosophical beer. My tear ducts gave up their burden to mingle with the raindrops pouring down my face, it just wasnt fair, it really wasnt.
Oh, where did the blue skies go? And why is it raining so? Its so cold Why does it always rain on me? Why does it always rain...*
I finished the song, letting the last poignant chords trickle into the rain. A sharp sting on the end of my nose indicated that the rolled up foil from a chewing gum wrapper, flicked from the end of a plastic souvenir ruler from The Castle Museum, had finally found its target. The straggling line of pre-adolescent fiends collapsed into cackling hysteria. Rain soaked self pity and depression gave way to pure insensible rage. I crossed the pavement from Body Shop to the Viking centre like a gazelle on speed, intent on separating the perpetrators life force from his physical shell.
"Now then," a firm voice spoke in my ear, "thats hardly appropriate behaviour is it, hes only a child and strangling a minor is actually illegal." The hands that went with the person intercepted my own hands, preventing their attempts to wrap themselves around the throat of the hellish schoolboy.
I glared resentfully at the kids teacher, snarling, "evil little sods like him should be kept behind bars, never mind classroom walls, bloody nuisances!"
A pair of steel grey eyes met mine without flinching, "I would prefer you to moderate your language around impressionable youngsters. Youre an adult who ought to know better."
My temper suddenly subsided, yeah okay, he was only a kid and I was a grown up who ought to know better, though better than what I wasnt sure. Id been twelve once, probably, though my childhood suddenly seemed so distant as to be part of some half forgotten dream. Shaking the teachers large hand loose, I gripped my guitar and headed for the semi protective Perspex awning of Fenwicks department store. Sitting on the cold ground I sang another Travis track, Driftwood, more for myself that the hope of any monetary recompense: *...youre driftwood floating on the water, breaking into pieces, pieces, pieces...*
"Thats it young man, this has gone far enough."
I didnt bother to glance up as a shadow fell across my guitar, I spoke casually through a mouthful of rain. "Should you really be leaving those evil little horrors unattended, they might take hostages or something?"
"Theyre more than adequately supervised. Get up Aaron."
I ignored him, strumming gently and humming.
"Now!"
There was a certain teacherish tone in his voice which, to my annoyance, I automatically responded to. Getting to my feet I glared into sirs, steel grey eyes. "Look, teach, I didnt realise youd be here today with your bunch of juvenile criminals, otherwise I would have arranged to be elsewhere."
"You knew exactly where Id be young man. I told you last evening and this morning before I left for work, so, unless youve gone stone deaf without bothering to inform me of the fact, that little statement boils down to another one of your little lies, supported by the fact that wherever Ive been today, so have you. Your itinerary of annoyance ends here, count it as a success, Im annoyed. You look ghastly, have you eaten this morning?"
"Yes," I lied. Id been too narked to eat actually, even though I was ravenous. Narked that hed breezed casually into my tent for the third morning running, casually dropping a kiss on my head before breezing off to work. It had struck me that he wasnt taking my living rough protest very seriously at all. Maybe if I starved to death in the bargain, hed take more notice.
"Did you eat the bran flakes and toast I put out for you?"
"Yes....ow!" I yelped as his hand shot out and stung the side of my backside.
"Funny, because I didnt actually leave any out, so that was another fib on your part."
"That wasnt fair, a trick question." I scowled up at him, "and shouldnt you be toddling on back to your class, theyll be missing you, not, and wondering where you are."
"Im having a coffee break," he briskly grabbed my hand, "and so are you."
"I dont want coffee thank you," I hung back on my heels as he attempted to lead me into Fenwicks. "I have work to do, songs to sing, pennies to earn to pay the cost of my humble abode."
"Youll be singing in a minute young man, only itll be in a key you wont like if you dont sort out your attitude. I warn you Aaron, if need be, Ill spank you right here and now."
I actually doubted very much that hed spank me in public, but I decided it was probably best not to really put him to the test. Id been testing him all week and I suspected that exam stress might be setting in, and anyway, the rain was turning to sleet and I was freezing and coffee in Fenwicks posh coffee shop would be nice, especially if it came with something sweet and chocolate smothered. "Okay, Ill permit you to buy me a coffee, I could do with something to heat me up."
He smiled warmly, at least his mouth did, funnily enough it did nothing to heat the metallic glint in his eyes. "Ill give you something to heat you up Aaron, you can be sure of that."
"Hey," I did a double take as we stepped off the escalator and he steered me to the left of the towel department, instead off to the right, where the coffee shop was located, "coffee shops the other way."
"I know where the coffee shop is Aaron," his hand tightened around mine, "we just need to visit the bathroom first."
"Im fine, you go ahead, Ill get us a table."
"All in good time Aaron, all in good time. I want to sort something out first."
"I dont think we should be in here Graham," I sensed some stirrings of nervousness as I was ushered into the spacious facility. "Were not disabled," my nervousness increased as he locked the door behind us and began to unbutton his coat. "What if a queue of wheelchair users forms outside, we might get into bother with the management."
"I doubt that will happen, I had a good look around as we came in, I didnt see so much as a person with a walking stick, let alone a wheelchair. Anyway, with the prices they charge in here for towels, I suspect that customers are few and far between." He calmly removed his coat and hung it on the back of the door before turning his attentions to my jacket, which having only a single button, took a mere second to undo. Methodical to the last, he hung it neatly over his own. Closing the toilet lid, he sat down on it, pulling me towards him.
"Graham!" My voice came out in a panicked falsetto, "what are you doing?" It was a bloody stupid question, it was obvious what he was doing, he was unbuckling the belt on my jeans, thats what he was doing.
"Be quiet Aaron, I dont want to hear another word from you," his deft fingers, having finished with the buckle, now reached for the waistband on my jeans, "Im going to do all the talking necessary, and youre going to listen, is that clear?"
I was too busy trying to hang onto my jeans to answer, to no avail. I gave a squeak of alarm as they ended up around my knees, and I ended up over Grahams knees. _s_h_i_t_, this was not looking good.
His left arm tightened about my waist, lifting me slightly as he pulled down my underpants to join my jeans. My buttocks clenched, embarrassed at being naked in a public convenience. My mouth, bloody big traitorous bugger, insisted on disobeying all instructions to remain silent, "Graham, please, cant we talk about this over coffee? Im sorry for following your school outing to the Castle museum this morning, and then here. Im sorry for singing that Travis song you hate, fifteen times. Im....ARGH!!" My feet flew up towards my backside as a monumental smack landed bang in the centre of my buttocks.
"I told you to be quiet, and I meant it." Grahams voice was suddenly very, very serious. "Youve been pushing at my limits all week, congratulations, youve finally breached them. I am not putting up with this tantrum for a second longer, ignoring it has apparently done no good, it ends here and now."
Deeply conscious of where we were, I resolved to remain quiet, biting my lip, as his hand began to smack my bare bottom in a steady rhythm, left cheek, right cheek. The sound of flesh contacting flesh sounded horrifically amplified in the spacious cubicle. I gasped out, sotto voce, "please Graham, someone will hear." Sotto voce deserted me as his hand speeded up rapidly, covering the lower curves of my buttocks with blistering spanks. "OW! OW! OW!" I howled, kicking my legs and trying to reach a protective hand behind myself.
"Not another word Aaron," he caught the flailing hand and held it against the small of my back, "not one. Im going to talk, youre going to listen. It was bad enough that I answered a phone call from the parents you told me were dead this week, but it was even worse to discover that they thought you were a vicar, married with three children. I meant what I said, you ARE going to tell your parents the truth about us, and what you do for a living, and youre going to apologise and beg forgiveness for your deception. In fact, my sweet little Billy Liar, from now on, truth is the only thing youre going to tell."
The painful heat in my bottom intensified, I tried desperately to wriggle off his lap, but he simply hauled me even further across it, so my toes left the floor and I took more weight on my hands. His own hand rose and fell relentlessly across my backside, while his voice did the same above my squirming pain wracked posterior.
"And, as Ive already said, you are also going to telephone the manager of the hotel to apologise sincerely for your behaviour on Monday and ask for another chance. He had every right to say that those multi slashed jeans and the fcuk t-shirt you were wearing were not suitable attire for work. Cutting his tie in half and putting it through the shedder before storming out in a huff, is NOT behaviour I approve off. You had a real flair for that job, and its time you made an effort to stick at something. Im thoroughly disappointed in you Aaron, youre capable of so much more than this."
"Sorry, Im really sorry Graham. I know Ive behaved badly, but if you just let this all blow over, Ill never do anything like it again." My promise cut no ice and he kept on spanking, even though I dont think there was a single spot on my bottom and upper thighs that hadnt been thoroughly smacked.
"This isnt going to blow over, Im not letting it blow over. You can pout and sulk all you like, but youre going to face the consequences of your actions this time and thats all there is to it."
The pain reached critical levels and I finally burst into sobs. "I dont know why I do these things, I really dont," my tears rained piteously onto the toilet floor as he trounced my poor bottom.
"You do them because you want to Aaron, because you want approval on easy terms, without having to do anything to back it up and its easier than taking responsibility for your actions, and partly you do them because you quite simply enjoy teasing and winding people up, its become a habit, and its going to stop." He stopped spanking at this point, using his hand to rub small, soothing circles on my hot, sore flesh until I calmed down.
His voice remained stern as he eased me to my feet and helped return my below the waist apparel to its rightful place. "When I come home this afternoon," he wiped my eyes with a piece of toilet tissue, "I expect to find that youve taken down that silly tent in the sitting room and taken it back to the shop for a credit refund. Im having no more of your Im moving out of our bedroom until I get my own way antics. Youll do as youre told. I have absolutely no interest in how embarrassed youll feel at facing up to your misdeeds, youre going to make amends and youre going to do it today. If I arrive home to a fresh set of excuses as to why you couldnt comply with all my wishes, Ill take up where I left off here, only, it will be with the paddle and not my hand. Is that very clear Aaron?" He re-buckled my belt and fixed me with his grey eyes.
"Yes Graham," I nodded miserably, my hands creeping behind me to rub at my burning bottom.
"Good." He cupped my chin in his hands and kissed me gently on the lips, "it is not acceptable for you to behave irresponsibly and then expect everything to be alright, it wont be right until you put it right. I love you, but I will not let you romanticise your misdeeds. I will not let you persist in the fantasies you weave in order to gain the approval you think you dont have. Most of all, I will not let you manipulate me with sulks and tantrums, aimed at wearing me down until I give in and allow you to slide out of doing what you dont like. You have things you need to address and put right, and youre going to do them, end of story. Now, wash your face sweetheart, and lets go get that coffee."
Averting my eyes from the interested gaze of the queue of wheelchair users outside the disabled toilet, I clung tightly to Grahams hand as we walked to the coffee shop, muttering, "I hope youre going to give that horrible little chewing gum wrapper flicker, some serious detention."
"His fate is my concern, not yours, lets just say that weather wise, his forecast is stormy and leave it at that."
End.