Tom Nelson looked walked into the living room of his pleasant converted farmhouse home, and as he did he saw that his son Rory was already there, stretched out on the sofa reading a novel. The 14 year old was a younger version of his father in looks, with the same sandy reddish hair and light 'Irish' complexion (father and son both sunburned all too easily), but the younger male had his mother's blue eyes.
"Hi, Dad," Rory said, looking up from the novel.
"Hi, kiddo. I thought you were going to the movies tonight?"
"We were, but Janet got sick, and Mike is grounded, and Chad ended up having to babysit, so we decided to do it another night. Just as well, considering the weather."
Tom nodded at that. It was the proverbial 'dark and stormy night', as the late autumn cold front came through. Every few minutes, a rumble of thunder shook the old house, but it was a solidly built structure, left over from when it was the farmhouse of a local farm 50 years before, and it had endured many a worse storm.
"What are you reading?"
"Just an assignment for my American Lit class. It's boring, actually." The boy sat the book on the floor and sat up. "You got any plans, Dad?"
"Not really. It's too nasty a night to go anywhere, and I'm expecting a call from your mother later anyway."
"Did Mom say when she'd be home?"
"Last time I talked to her, she wasn't sure, but she said it would probably be at least another 3 weeks before she got all her business done in Chicago and was able to come back. Apparently the lawsuit has hit some kind of snag."
"She's already been gone 2 weeks," Rory grumbled.
"Oh well," Tom said, as he picked up the remote and turned on the TV, only to see the screen light up filled with static.
"Terrific, the storm must have knocked down the dish again," the 45 year old grumbled, as he snapped the TV back off.
"Well, no TV, it's not safe to use the Internet in a storm, and it's too bad a night to go anywhere," Rory observed. "Wanna play cards?"
"Sounds like as good an idea as any," his father agreed. The two of them went to the dining room, and Rory sat down at the table while Tom picked out the deck of cards, and sat down opposite his son and began to deal the cards. They played several rounds of poker, with most of the wins going to Tom, who had a far better 'poker face' than his teenaged son. As was their custom, they played for a pot of $50, with the game over when one or the other had managed to win the whole pot. They got out a big bowl of cheese and nachos, some potato chips, and the leftover desert from supper, and started playing and snacking.
Tom had managed that ten 'hands' later, and Rory happened to mention that he had gotten spanked. He only meant it as a metaphor, but hearing the word sent Tom's mind racing (for the 1000th time!) back to what he had seen at his best friend Jake Carson's house a few weeks before. There, he had seen Jake's teenaged son spank, paddle, and otherwise punish and dominate his father and older brother, and ever since then the memory had been popping into Tom's head at the oddest times. He also remembered that he had been curious as to what it would feel like to be a father submitting to his own son.
He hadn't been able to get that out of his mind for long for over a month, and now a wild thought suddenly occurred to him, a way to satisfy that nagging curiosity...if he had the nerve.
"So, wanna keep playing?"
"For what? I'm out of money, and my allowance isn't until next week."
"Tell you what, son. I'll make you another bet. Let's play one more hand, with the whole pot back in it. If I win, you have to mow the yard tomorrow morning, clip the hedge, and wash both the cars, instead of going out with your friends. We've been letting the chores go lately anyway, while your mother was out of town, they need catching up."
"That's a lot of work. What do I get if I win?"
"Well, if you win, I have to do anything you tell me to do between now and when your mother comes home."
"Are you serious? ANYTHING I say?"
"Yes. But I plan to win, so it's easy to make the bet."
"Hmmm..." Tom could see that his son was tempted, and as he expected, after a moment the teenager gave in, the offer too sweet to pass up.
"I know I'll probably regret this," Rory said, "but you have a deal!"
Tom dealt the cards, and picked up his hand, and saw that he had dealt himself 4 queens! He expected that, of course, since he had stacked the deck. He also knew that Rory was seeing his own hand and not believing it.
A few moments later, it was time for the showdown, and trying to keep his face straight, Tom laid his cards down and let Rory see the 4 queens. "Read 'em and weep, son! I hope you're ready for some hard work tomorrow!"
"Not so fast, pardner!" Rory grinned as he showed his own cards, which consisted of 4 aces!
"I don't believe it!" Tom exclaimed, even though he had stacked the deck so that Rory was sure to win. "How can you have 4 aces?!"
"Just lucky, Dad! But you know what that means, don't you?"
"Yes," Tom said, nervously, "I guess it means you're the boss until Stacy comes home."
Now that he had done it, Tom was very nervous. His curiosity had been eating at him ever since he had seen David Carson bossing his father and older brother around, and it hadn't gone away, but now that he'd set himself up to have to submit to his own son, the curiosity was warring with the nervousness!
"That's right, Dad! Now, let's see, to start with, why don't you go get me a Coke from the refrigerator, and then I'm going to go finish reading my novel while you clean up this mess!"
Tom handed his son a Coke from the refrigerator, and then after Rory left the room the older man began to clean up the mess they had made. His guts were turning summersaults at the thought that he had to obey his son's every whim until his wife came home, but he had set it up himself, so there was nothing to do but see what happened.
After he finished cleaning up the dining room, he went into the living room to see that Rory had a nasty grin on his face. He pointed at the empty far corner of the living room.
"Dad, I want you to go stand in that corner, until I say you can come out!"
"But I-"
"No buts!" snapped the 14 year old! "I said I want you with your nose in the corner, and I meant it!"
His skin was goose-pimpled at Rory's tone, but Tom obeyed, walking over and standing in the corner, and putting his nose to the wall. He felt ridiculous, and embarrassed, but his _c_o_c_k_ was as hard as it had been the night he watched David dominate his family!
He wondered just how 'interesting' the next few weeks would be, but one thing was sure, his curiosity ought to be satisfied!