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3 D.A.D.s / 3 BOYS - Part 2

A STORY SET IN THE ‘BRAVE NEW WORLD’ OF D.A.D.

Chapter Two: 3 boys

Kenny, Jeff and Peter sat in the alley carrying on their highly individualistic smoking. Kenny, the blond sophisticate of the group (he was twenty and looked just about fourteen), kept his smoke dangling from the corner of his mouth. Jeff tried to do the same, but the smoke kept getting in his eyes. Peter, on the other hand, puffed and choked and felt sick, but kept at it to impress his companions.

Kenny patted Peter’s head and said, “Keep puffing, kid, you’ll get the knack. If you don’t puke your guts first!”

Kenny laughed at his own witticism, but the laughter was aborted when a blazing light suddenly blossomed in the alley and three huge figures emerged.

“What the....” Kenny started.

Jeff burned his fingers on his cigarette and looked to Kenny to see what his next move was.

Peter threw his cigarette down and started running from the alley. James Lester, cigar still clenched in his teeth, spotted his son and took off after him.

George Kolka, bear-like figure that he was, puffing clouds of pipe tobacco, reached out and grabbed Jeff by his left ear.

Kenny took all this in quickly and eyeballed Robert Scott who, unlike the other two D.A.D.s, stood motionless staring at his son.

“Who the hell are you?” Kenny asked.

To his left, he was aware of the pipe-smoking giant settling down on one one of the crates and pulling the protesting Jeff, still held by one ear, over his lap. Jeff was making roaring protest sounds, but it didn’t seem to bother the giant.

“I’m your D.A.D., Kenneth,” Robert Scott said. “I’m government approved and assigned; it’s completely legal. For all intents and purposes, I am your father!”

“What?!”

“We were sent by D.A.D. to bring you home and re-educate you before it’s too late. Now why don’t you make this easy for both of us and just come along with me.”

Kenny turned his face again and saw that the ‘Bear’, still puffing out clouds of pipe smoke, had somehow dragged Jeff’s jeans down to his ankles where they were so ‘bunched-up’ that the chubby boy couldn’t even move his legs. With wide-eyes (which Kenny would have adjusted had he seen himself) Kenny watched the man take hold of the waistband of Jeff’s underpants and pull them down. The tug lifted Jeff slightly into the air and there was a ripping sound as the briefs (already too snug) split.

“That makes things a damn sight easier,” the ‘Bear’ said around his pipe stem. He tossed the sundered underwear away and used his right hand to tuck Jeff in as though the Man and boy were sharing a cozy moment.

Then the man lifted a palm of truly stupendous size, over his right shoulder, and then brought it down with a very loud CRACK! across Jeff’s bare bottom. Jeff yowled and and tried to reach back to his branded posterior, but the ‘Bear’s’ left arm across Jeff’s back, formed an impassable barrier to that goal.

CRACK!

The hand walloped its target again and Kenny saw twin handprints rise across the full width of Jeff’s broad backside.

Kenny turned back to Robert Scott. He was a savvy kid and decided to play it cool.

“Sure, I’ll come with you. No sweat! Where are we going?”

It was hard to try and be cool while his friend was getting his ass thrashed and his ear-splitting howls (not to mention the thunderclaps of the spanking) bounced off the alley’s walls.

“I’m to take you home with me, Kenneth,” Robert Scott said formally. “You will call me dad or father, I suspect that you’re too old for daddy.”

Jeff snorted contemptuously.

Robert Scott frowned at the sound. “Or Sir! Yes, perhaps I’ll insist on father or sir!”

Kenny’s cheeks turned pink, but he decided to go for brashness. “Hey, father,” he said, a slight note of sarcasm creeping into his voice. “How do I know that your intentions toward me are strictly ‘fatherly’?”

Robert Scott reached into his suit jacket, took out a wallet, and showed Kenny his official D.A.D. identification card. These cards were world-known and Kenny realized that somehow, he and his friends had gained government attention.

Kenny nodded his head. “I guess you’re legit after all. What do we do?”

Jeff was bawling now, loudly and lustily, but it had not affect on the ‘Bear’s’ activities. George Kolka looked exactly like an ‘arm of the law’ doing his job. In this case, that job was thoroughly tanning the bared bottom of the young boy laying across his knees. George’s focus was complete and his hand operated on Jeff’s backside much the same as if he were engaged in killing snakes. He was stamping ‘em out!

Huge tears rolled down Jeff’s face and his mouth was a drooling circle as Robert Scott stepped forward and put his hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“I’ll trigger the Omnicomp to transport us home,” Robert said, and he added, “son!”

Robert Scott reached to his belt to tap a small electronic device. As he did so, Kenny couldn’t resist saying, “Just remember that my privates are private!”

“That’ll cost you a sound hiding and ten solid minutes of mouth washing,” Robert Scott said. He tapped the Omnicomp remote and he and Kenny vanished from the alley.

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Peter Heller managed to run nearly a full block before he was wrenched back by James Lester’s brawny arm. The ‘Biker’ had captured a fistful of the boy’s hair and he held it in a grip of steely determination.

Peter’s hands flew to his smarting head and to the hairy fist that held him prisoner.

“OW!” Peter cried out.

“Hold on now, boy,” James Lester said, cigar gritted in his teeth. “If you don’t struggle then you won’t loose any hair.”

Peter’s eyes filled with tears of self-pity. “Who...who are you?” he asked, turning to see his captor.

He looked up into a bearded face exhaling an odorless cloud of cigar smoke (all tobacco had been turned into a harmless vegetable matter which seemed to satisfy smokers without causing problems for them or others).

“My name is James Lester, boy,” the bearded man said. Peter saw that he was wearing a leather vest over an otherwise bare chest. The chest, like the man’s face, was covered with hair of a pepper and salt nature. “I’m a D.A.D. daddy and your new Old Man. I’ve come to take you home and give you some fatherly counseling.”

“Where are my friends?” Peter asked, tears running down his cheeks.

“Friends! Damn, boy. Those weren’t any kind of friends,” James Lester said. “I’ll teach you about friends, and you’ll learn the lesson too.”

Peter sniffed and said, “Please let go of my hair, sir.”

Lester studied the boy and slowly let go of his hair. Peter smiled sweetly and turned to run for all he was worth. It was a futile gesture. This time, James Lester caught him by the seat of his pants and swung him right off the ground.

“We’re going home son, and I’m going to have your pants off!”

“No, no, please. I’m sorry. I won’t run away again.”

“You sure won’t run away pantless!” James Lester said. He touched the Omnicomp remote that hung next to his hairbrush and he and Peter vanished.

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(to be continued)