The Man in the House

by zelamir <zelamir@hotmail.com>

Brian took Nicky into the sitting room while Mary made breakfast for them all. He switched on the television and Nicky lying face down on the carpet settled himself to watch the Saturday morning cartoons. Brian looked down at the boy's slim figure and thought how vulnerable he looked. His shirt, his only clothing, had ridden up to expose the dark bruises that covered his bottom. Brian wondered how he could have allowed himself to cause such damage to so defenceless a little creature.

He fetched a towel and a bowl of cold water. He lifted the dripping towel from the bowl and laid it gently across Nicky's livid rump. The boy started.

"It's all right Nicky," Brian said gently ruffling his hair, "it's only to bring the bruising down."

The boy turned and smiled his thanks. He was not embarrassed by his nakedness, after all Brian was his Dad. Brian understood this and was touched.

The day passed quietly. Nicky lying half dosing before the television Mary and Brian happy in each other's company.

By Sunday the bruises had started to fade. Nicky ate his breakfast sitting at the kitchen table , but with a thick cushion between his still sore bottom and the hard chair. Brian vetoed the boy's suggestion that they should try out the roller blades in the park on the grounds that it would be very painful if Nicky had to sit down suddenly. Brian took them ten pin bowling instead and bought Nicky an early supper of chips, beef burger and a jumbo coke which went down very well.

Back home Mary took Nicky upstairs for a bath. When he was undressed she called Brian.

"Do you think he will be all right for school tomorrow?" she asked turning the boy so his backside was to the light. Brian gently touched with his fingertips the welts that still disfigured it.

"When do you have games next?" he asked.

Wednesday Dad. I'll be able to go to them won't I? I may be in the under thirteen eleven. Please Dad?"

Brian laughed and pulled Nicky's ear. He muttered something about healthy young skin and said he could go to school the next day and that he was sure that the marks would have fade so much by Wednesday that they would not be noticed in the showers.

Mary was very happy about the way the week end had gone. Brian and the boy had seemed so at ease and happy together. She continued happy through Monday. But by the end of Tuesday she had to admit to herself that tensions were beginning to build up again between her lover and her son.

At Brian's suggestion they had drawn up a time table for the evenings. Nicky got home from school at about four thirty. Mary would prepare him a high tea and he would eat this and be allowed to watch television up to five thirty. He would then go upstairs to his room and do his homework. (Brian accepted that Nicky could do his home work in front of the television but he would do it better away from it.) Brian would get home from his business some time after six. Mary would have his supper ready for him at about seven. He and Mary would have supper together. This would allow Brian to unwind and for them to discuss quietly any problems that might have arisen during the day. At about half past seven they would call Nicky who would have pudding with them. (Brian agreed that Nicky might need less than two hours to finish his homework. If he did he could fill in his time reading "The Prisoner of Zenda". Brian knew he was enjoying it.) Brian and Nicky would then wash up allowing Mary to have a little rest. Afterwards they would spend time together playing a game or talking or watching television if there was an interesting program until nine when Nicky would go up stairs for a shower. Either Mary or Brian would go to settle Nicky in bed just before half past nine. Lights out for him was nine thirty sharp and no arguing please.

This program worked admirably on Monday. On Tuesday Nicky griped at having to go and do his home work and leaving the television. On Wednesday he muttered about having to take shower at all (he was quite clean) and at having to take it at nine in particular (miles too early, no other boy in his class had to go to bed so early).

Brian dealt patiently with these minor mutinies but Mary could see he was becoming increasingly irritated by her sons growing awkwardness.

Full scale rebellion occurred on Thursday. Nicky began his campaign by questioning why he always had to dry up. Why couldn't he wash up some times? Washing up was the easier job because the drier up had to do two jobs. Drying up AND putting away. Really there were three jobs not two. Then he tried to claim that "The Bill" was an interesting program (at least it was to him and why were his opinions always ignored) and they should watch it after supper.

Mary kept out of the arguments which ended in each instance with Nicky giving way but with a bad grace and Brian annoyed. Real trouble flared at nine O'clock.

"Go and have your shower now Nicky," Brian said. Mary noted there was a distinct edge to his voice.

"I want to stay up tonight to watch "Lethal Weapon 4". It's on in an hour."

"Go upstairs to bed now."

"Why can't I watch "Lethal Weapon 4"? All the other boys in school are going to watch it. Why can't I watch it? They'll think I'm a sissy if I don't watch it. But you don't care. You don't care about any thing but your silly time table. Who asked you to come here with your silly stupid time table. I AM GOING TO WATCH IT."

Mary decide she had to intervene.

"Sorry Brian," she said quietly. "Nicky you will go upstairs now and you will not watch any film on television and you will stop arguing."

"Oh all right Mum. I'll do what YOU say. You can tell me what to do. He can't. He has no right. He's just stupid."

Nicky jumped to his feet and ran from the room slamming the door after him.

"Brian I am sorry," Mary said miserably. "I just don't understand it. Every thing was all right on Monday. The two of you were just getting on fine then but it seems all to have gone down hill since then."

"I can understand it all right," Brian replied gruffly. "Nicky's a good boy but he's been used to getting his own way. He was the man in the house although he's only a boy. Now there's another man and he has to take second place and his nose is out of joint".

"But why have things got steadily worse since Monday."

"Oh that's easy," Brian laughed. "Monday the thrashing I gave him was fresh in his mind. Now the effect has worn off. Boys have short memories that need frequent refreshing."

"You think Nicky's needs refreshing?"

"Well we've got a choice. Either things stay as they are with arguments all the time or he gets a sharp reminder of what can happen to disobedient boys."

"I'm not going through the last few days again. There's no contest. I love you and I love Nicky but Nicky is just a boy and has got to learn his place."

Mary paused and then continued, "shall I fetch him down for you to deal with now Brian dear?"

"No I'm still irritated by the boy and I'm not going to beat him until that's worn off. I'll do it tomorrow evening after supper. But you can tell him what to expect now. It'll do him no harm to have some thing to think about."

The key to the bath room door had long been lost. Mary walked straight in. Nicky was still under the shower water forming a silver sheen over his narrow shoulders. Mary reached in and switched the shower off.

"Out you come Nicky," she said picking up a towel.

"Nicky," she said sternly as she vigorously rubbed him down. "You have made me very unhappy. You are a selfish uncaring boy. How could you behave so badly to Brian?"

"But Mum he's always bossing me about. He's got no right...." Nicky was near to tears.

"He's got every right. He is a grown up, you are a boy and a small one at that. On top of that he's the man I'm going shortly to marry. He's your Dad with a father's authority over you. You seem to have forgotten that."

"Sorry Mum," Nicky muttered unhappily.

"You'll be sorrier tomorrow my boy," she said grimly. "Tomorrow you're going to be reminded in a way you won't forget what your true position in this house really is. After you have had supper you will go to your room. You will strip down to your shirt and you will wait there till you are called down stairs for Brian to thrash."

"Oh Mum .....please..."

"You must learn and you will learn to do as your told by Brian without arguing or back chat."

"All right Mum.... Mum will it be as hard as last time.?"

"You'll have to wait to find out won't you?" Mary snapped. But then catching sight of her sons devastated face added. "No I expect not but what you deserve is another matter."

Nicky had a miserable night. His dreams were full of whips and belts and pain. Mary and Brian heard him crying late into the night but they told each other that it was for his long term good and hardened their hearts. Nicky crept round in the morning looking like a little puppy who had already been thrashed. His obvious misery touched both the adults but again it was for his own good .... wasn't it?

Nicky hardly spoke when he came home from school and Mary looking at his red eyes and seeing his trembling hands felt as though it was she who was going to be beaten.

Brian come back from work looking grim. He carried a half dozen bamboo canes into the house.

"Picked them up at the garden centre on the way home," he said by way of explanation to Mary.

He selected one cane about as thick as his index finger. Seating himself in his arm chair he cut off a length about one metre long. The cane was tough and it took him some time working with his pen knife to cut through it. Then he split the thinner end length ways for about twenty centimetres. He produced a ball of cord from his brief case and put bindings at the tip of the cane and at the opposite end of the split.

"Gives it extra bite," he said. "No point in thrashing the boy unless it hurts." Mary thought he didn't sound very happy.

Supper was eaten in silence. The cane lay on the table beside Brian and the two adults eye's seemed to be irresistibly drawn to it.

The meal over Brian stood up

"Better get it over with," he said. "Bring him down to me in the sitting room please."

Mary stood up and left the room without a word. She heard Nicky crying even before she opened his bed room door. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands, his bare thighs only partly covered by his shirt, his body wracked by sobs.

"Come on Nicky. It'll soon be over now."

"Oh Mum do I have to?" he raised his tear stained face to hers

Mary did not reply but reached out and took hold of one of his hands. Gently she drew him to his feet and lead him down stairs into the sitting room.

Nicky saw Brian standing beside a kitchen chair that had been placed in the middle of the room. His eyes focused on the cane which the man was holding in his right hand. He started back but his mother lead him forward still holding his hand until he was standing immediately in front of the kitchen chair.

"Nicky," Brian said quietly, "you have been a bad disobedient boy and now you are going to be punished. You are going to have six strokes of this cane. It will hurt a very great deal."

"When I tell you you will bend forward and take hold of the seat of the chair. You will take a tight grip of it because if you let go while am beating you the punishment will start all over again."

"You will keep your legs straight and you will put your head as far down as you can so your bottom is lifted well up for the cane and the skin stretched taught. Again you will maintain that position until the punishment is over and you have been given my permission to move."

"You may cry but not too loud. I do not want the neighbours complaining."

"Mary. Would you check please the windows are closed....Good..Nicky get into position."

Nicky bent forward and took hold of the chair. He felt Brian's hand rest gently on his raised bottom.

"Come on Nicky," he said, "you can get it higher than that. That's better boy."

The hand was withdrawn and Nicky felt the cane tip against his unprotected flesh. He realised that Brian was measuring the distance for his strokes.

He heard the cane hiss viciously above him and then felt an explosion of pain that drove the breath from his body as the rod cracked down across his bum.

He struggled for breath. He heard the cane above him again. Again it cut into his bottom. He fought to remain silent but could not hold back a gasp of pain.

A third time the cane ripped into his backside. This time he could not control himself. He yelled in agony.

"I must not let go of the chair. I must stay in position." He fought desperately to keep at least that small degree of control as the final three strokes tore across his rump.

Then the beating stopped. He was conscious of the agony in his bottom and the sound of his own sobs. He heard Brian's voice above him say something and then repeat it. He realised that he was being told the beating was over and he could stand up.

"The great thing about a beating Nicky", Brian said "is that it clears the slate clean. You have behaved badly. You have been punished. We need say no more about it unless you behave badly in the same way again. But you won't do that will you Nicky?"

"No B..B..Brian" he sobbed.

"I don't think you will. Now Nicky you are going to be given an opportunity for just a little period of reflection and penitence. Stand up on the chair now. Hands on the back of your head. That's right I will tell you when you can get down."

"Mary I feel I deserve a cup of coffee."

Mary on the way to the kitchen passed the chair on which Nicky was standing. She reached up and squeezed his bare thigh.

"You've been a very brave boy Nicky," she murmured. Nicky blinked back his tears and squared his shoulders. The pain, the humiliation was suddenly unimportant. Brian saw the change in the boy and smiled. He understood.

.


More stories by zelamir