dadinc

D.A.D. Inc. - Part 5

Hollis barely had time to holler, as Willis Cookie's hand branded its mark across his backside, before the glow faded and Willis stepped out of the portal.

Willis effortlessly flipped Hollis around in his one-arm carry, so that the boy's bare bottom sat on Willis' hairy arm and he now faced forward. "Here we are, kid," Willis said. "Home sweet home."

Hollis stared at the incredible spectacle laid out before him. The portal stood at the top of a rise overlooking the queerest 'town' Hollis had ever seen or imagined.   The 'town' (if you could call it that) vaguely resembled a small suburb, but this suburb had never known any sort of master architectural plan. A number of completely disparate dwellings had been set up on different tracts of land. Each dwelling seemed to reflect a distinct personality which, in no way, complemented or reflected any other dwelling.

A large ranch with running horses sat on one quadrant of land, while its neighboring property had a widly modern home, all glass and chromium and solar panels, which might have been right at home in a science-fiction movie.   Next to that dwelling, stood a trailer park with a decidedly transient look and next to that was a very traditional colonial home with a station wagon parked inthe driveway. Other types of houses that Hollis could see were: rows of semi-attached two-family homes, log cabins surrounded by foresty-areas, farms with barns and silos, and what looked like military camps.

Willis pointed to one of the military camps. "That's it, son," he said. "That's where I kick off my boots and scratch my butt. C'mon, let's get you settled in." Willis started down a path that lead from the portal down to the town.

"Wait a minute," Hollis said, "please."

Willis paused. "'Please,'" Willis repeated. "Hey, kid, don't shock me too much by suddenly gettin' some manners,I might drop dead!"

"I...I...don't understand what's going on," Hollis said. "Why did you bring me here? What's going to happen? What about my mother?" It was hard, Hollis thought, to get your thoughts together when you were baby bare and found yourself carried in one massive arm by someone who might have played Conan the Barbarian.

Willis Cookie eye-balled the boy and then held him under the arms in front of him. Hollis felt, if anything, even more like a baby. There he was held naked in front of Willis Cookie with his 'personality' dangling between his legs and a disconcerting breeze assailing his bare bottom.

Willis, on the other hand seemed to regard this as completely normal. "Okay, junior, here's the scoop. 'D.A.D., Inc.' is interested in you, that's why it contacted your mother. You're a smart kid, with lots of poo-tential, but you've got no old man to guide you. That's why they sent me. To straighten you out. It's real simple, son. I'm gonna pat ya on the head when you do the right thing and whale the shit out of you when you step off the path. Got it?! ACTION = REACTION!!'

"Personally, I think your old lady needs a D.A.D. dad too, but that ain't my call. I just do my job and for now, you're my kid and I'm you old man. So, let's go home."

Willis tossed Hollis back into a one-armed carry and lumbered down the hillside toward the town.

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The military sector was surrounded by a high fence and there was a guardhouse with two guards at the front gate.   The guards, unlike Willis, were meticulously dressed in pressed blue uniforms and caps.   Like Willis, they were remarkable physical specimens.

They opened the gates and greeted Willis. Then they turned their attentions to Hollis. Neither seemed at all surprised to see the boy and, in fact, turned out to know who he was.

"Hi, Hollis," one of the guards said. "We've been expecting you. I told my son, David, that you were coming and he wants to meet you. He's a lad about your age."

"My son, Kyle," the other guard said, "hears that you like video games. We don't allow a lot of that here, but you'rewelcome to come over to our house and play with it, when Kyle has his video time, that is and if he's gotten his chores done."

Hollis looked at the two men and couldn't help snickering. Were they for real? "Chores?" Hollis said. The two men frowned.

Willis Cookie squatted down and, taking Hollis by the arms, turned the boy so that he was looking into his face. "Hey, kid, didja ever hear the word 'respect?'" Willis asked. "Now you turn your little butt around, look these dads in the face and say, 'Thank you, sir.'"

Hollis' mouth sagged open. Willis' words just didn't translate into sense in his mind.    Willis clicked his tongue and rubbed the dense stubble on his face. "You just ain't got a clue, do you?" Willis said. He reached to his waist and unbuckled the broad belt that held his pants up. Hollis watched spellbound as Willis pulled the strap out of its loops and then doubled it in his fist.

Willis' right hand grabbed Hollis' right arm and held him sideways and in front of him. Before Hollis could completely figure out what was about to happen (amazing isn't it???) Willis had given him three quick cracks across the behind with the strap.

Hollis yelped and danced in Willis' grasp. "Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Willis gave him three more whacks and Hollis started to cry.

Then Hollis squatted down and turned the boy's tear-streaked face to his. 'Now, you turn your red butt around and say, "'Thank you, sir.'" Willis 'turned' the boy around and Hollis, holding onto his backside choked the words through his tears.

"You've got your work cut out for you, Willis," one of the guards said.

"Yeah, 'spect I do," Willis said. He took Hollis by the hand. "But I kinda like the kid." He looked at Hollis. "Though I ain't sure I could tell you just why. Come on, son, we got lots to do."

"You be a good boy, now and listen to your dad," the other guard said.

Willis waved the strap that he still held in his hand. "Answer, son, or I'll give you another taste of leather." Hollis flushed so deeply that he perspired, but he managed to say, "Yeah, okay....sir."

Willis looked at the guard and shrugged, "We'll work on it. See ya."

"See ya, Willis," the guards said.

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As they walked through the barracks yard, Hollis saw lots of boys (of all different ages). Some of the boys were playing games or sports and others were working. Several boys (ranging in age from ten to nineteen) were involved in painting the side of a building. The boys all looked relatively happy with their work and there was a lot of laughing and talking between them.

Two boys, perhaps a year or two older than Hollis, were raking leaves and talking about a science project they were working on. At Hollis' school, a private institution that cost Mrs. Harrison-Stanley a ton of money, the kids never discussed their work. Some of them didn't even do their work after all, what were tutors getting paid for. They mostly talked about themselves, their clothes, trips they had taken and nasty messages they'd left on another kid's computer.

Willis had scooped Hollis up again, saying that he didn't want him to hurt his 'tender ' feet. Hollis was actually glad. Held in Willis' arms, he didn't feel nearly as naked as when he walked by his side held by the hand.

Everyone seemed to know Willis and greeted him as they walked through the base. Willis greeted everyone in his coarse good-natured way and always, always, introduced Hollis as his son. Hollis didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing.

Finally, after what seemed like a long trek through mechanical areas and food preparation areas and vehicular areas, they came to a solitary dwelling tucked behind the sanitation area. Here Willis walked up to a one floor dwelling made of cinderblock, with a corrugated metal roof, and opened the door.

"Make yerself at home, kid."

Hollis looked around. They had entered a large multi-purpose space. Even with the incredible mess that lay around, Hollis could tell that the room was a living room, dining room, kitchen all rolled into one.   The kitchen was in a shambles. Pots, glasses, silverware, skillets, tin cans and food remnants were all over the place.   The counter, the circumscribed the kitchen, had crusted food on it and bits of things that Hollis couldn't identify.

The dining room portion of the space was much the same as the kitchen. Here, piles of dishes abounded and they had not been cleaned of what had been on them. From the looks of the mess, some of the leftovers might be quite dated. Hollis spotted a chicken leg on the floor next to a can of tunafish.

The living room had some food debris as well. There was a television set in front of a sofa and on the coffee table, in front of the sofa, were some paper plates with tidbits on them and some bags of chips and bottles of beer.

"What a mess!" Hollis said, almost involuntarily.

"Yep, it sure is," Willis said proudly. "I know I gotta straighten it up and now that you're here, son, you can lend me a hand."

"WHAT!" Hollis' eyes swept the room again it would be easier - he thought - to blow the place up and start over then to clean it.

"Lemme show ya the bathroom and the bedroom."

Willis grabbed Hollis neck and guided him down a short hall off the kitchen which lead to a bathroom on one side and a bedroom on the other.

Willis clicked on the bathroom light. "Ev'ry convenience," he said grinning. Hollis looked into the bathroom. It was dimly lit by a bulb over the sink, but not so dim that Hollis was spared the site of squeezed out toothpast tubes, handtowels in an overflowing, rusted wastepaper basket. Soppy towels over the shower curtain rod and a general odor of mildew.

Hollis grimaced and looked up at Willis. "I thought military people were supposed to be neatfreaks," the boy said.

Willis gave a one-sided smile and then narrowed his eyes, "Don't go gettin' too rude, youngun, or I might have to swop you one or two. I admit that I'm not the neatest, but "D.A.D." has kept me pretty busy. There's lots of you little hellions that need old dad here."

Willis turned Hollis around and took him across the hall to the bedroom.
The bedroom was another scene of carnage. There was one large bed in the center of the room, a bureau on one wall, with a mirror over it, and a closet with its door open. The bed was unmade and looked as if making it would be the work of a master puzzle-maker. There were pillows thrown about and sheets littered the floor along with clothing that exploded from the bureau drawers. On the bureau, Hollis spotted several formidable-looking hairbrushes (funny how a common grooming aide had taken on a new conotation in his mind), some combs with some teeth and a couple of cigars in cellophane.

Hollis picked up one of the cigars and put it between his teeth without peeling off the cellophane. He chewed the cigar around in his mouth as he went to the closet and rummaged through it.

"We got some duds for ya, son," Willis said, and he threw a hanger onto the rumpled bed.   Willis chewed his cigar into a corner of his mouth and pulled the clothes off the hanger to show Hollis.

"Nice flannel shirt," Willis said, holding up a plaid shirt and then throwing it to Hollis. The boy caught it and sniffed it. It smelled of cigar smoke but it was clean.

"Nice pair 'a jean!" Willis threw a pair of blue jeans to Hollis.

"What's this?" said the boy. He had caught the jeans and now held them at arms length. They were overall jeans with a bib that fastened over the shoulder (Hollis remembered seeing something like them in an ancient comic book called 'Dennis the 'Something'). The bib part seemed juvenile, but that wasn't what had caught the boy's attention it was the seat of the overalls. The seat was a flap of materials that fastened with two buttons.

"I'm not wearing this, " Hollis said, his face reddening.

"Okay by me," Willis said, "if you wanna go bare butt."

"No!" Hollis growled. "I don't mean that." He waved the overalls. "These things are completely embarrassing.   Look at this flap. what's it there for?!"

"Quick access," Willis chuckled.

"Very funny!" Hollis said. "I'll bet that when you walk in these things anyone can see your underpants from the sides."

"Nope!" said Willis. "They can't, 'cause you don't get no underpants, junior. I told you that drop seat was for quick access."

     Willis took the cigar from his mouth, peeled off the cellophane and lit it with some matches he picked up from the bureau. Louds of heavy cigar smoke filled the air.

   Hollis waved his hand. "I hate cigar smoke!"

   "Good," Willis said continuing to puff, "'cause if I ever caught you smokin', you'd find out how useful the back door in your britches is.   Here, get 'em on."

     Willis tossed the outfit to Hollis and headed for the door. "There're sneakers in the closet and socks around here somewhere. Put it on and I'll go see about gettin' us some lunch."

"We just had breakfast," Hollis said.

Willis grinned, "You'll need the energy we got a lot of work to do, son."

     Hollis stood in confusion for a few moments, before baring his teeth and putting on the shirt and overalls. He felt caught between two conflicting emotions: rebellion and fear of consequences. Fear won out! Willis had seemed kind when he had fed him the pancakes, but he certainly hadn't felt kind when he had spanked him. Hollis still felt the aftereffects on his bottom and wasn't sure he was ready to risk another assault.

     Hollis came out of the bedroom dressed in the shirt, overalls and sneakers (he hadn't been able to find any socks he felt comfortable trying on his feet). Most of them looked as if they could have walked out of the room on their own!!

     Willis was shoving things around in the kitchen surrounded by a rank cloud of cigar smoke from which the cigar poked out at a jaunty angle. Willis took it out of his mouth when he saw Hollis. "Glad you're here, son. Lend a hand."

   "What are you trying to do?" Hollis asked.

Willis laughed. "Whattaya think? Rustle up some grub!"   Suddenly Willis spotted something on the floor and pounced on it. He shoved the stogie back in his teeth and held up a tin can. "Aha, just the thing for lunch. A little chili piping hot!"

     Hollis had never eaten chili and watched with moderate revulsion as Willis found a can opener, used it and then dumped the contents into a pot on the stove. Hollis hadn't time to see how clean (or not) the pot was.

     Willis turned on the burner and a strong, but pleasant smell filled the room. "Why dontcha make some room at the table kid and we'll chow down." Hollis turned his attention to the table and its pile of dishes and silverware (with their various smears) and recoiled.

"It's filthy," Hollis said.

Willis stirred the chili and puffed his cigar. "Okay, after lunch you can wash it up."

"Me!" Hollis said.

"For now, just shove it to one side and lay out two plates."

Hollis took one step closer to the table and scanned it again. He couldn't see a single dish that looked salvageable.

Willis watched the boy from the stove. "Hey, junior, this stuff is going to be ready before you are. Just do what I told ya and we'll eat."

Hollis reached out to daintily move some of the dishes, but his hand fell again. This was too much. Hollis Harrison-Stanley wasn't going to do this kind of filthy work. A heavy hand fell on Hollis' shoulder and he turned. Willis pointed the wet end of his cigar in the boy's face.

"Now look, boy," Willis said. His face was serious. "I know that this is not the Ritz, but we're gonna make the best of it.   Now when your dad tells ya to do something, you do it!!"

"You made this disgusting mess," Hollis said, his voice rising, "you clean it up!"

"Okay, you asked for it!" Willis said. He took Hollis by his ear and gripped it hard.

"Yow!" the boy shouted.

Willis turned around one of the dining room chairs and sat down. Then, still holding Hollis by one ear, he stood the boy in front of him, between his parted knees. Hollis was so busy feeling his hurting ear that it was hard for him to attend, but after a little extra ear pressure, he did his best.

"I don't want to be rough with you kid," Willis said, "but I sure ain't gonna put up with any 'I'm-the-rich-kid-I-ain't-doin'-this' crap! I talked to ya nice and I even reasoned with ya. But now you're gonna learn that when a dad tell you to do something you damn well better do it. I'm gonna give you a genuine daddy spankin'."

    Willis let go of Hollis' ear and took hold of the boy's arms. Hollis leaned back, but Willis held him in place. "I whupped ya before, back in yer house, but this is a spankin' and that's something different - as you'll see, son."

     With that, Willis picked Hollis up and gently laid him face down in his lap.

   This was a position that Hollis Harrison-Stanley was gradually becoming accustomed to. He knew what it meant and he didn't like it.

"No, wait!" he cried. "I'll clean the damn table!"

"Oop! Now I gotta paddle your butt, and wash out yer mouth. Boy, you are a glutton for punishment." Willis placed his left hand on the back of Hollis' head and held him down. His right hand undid the buttons that held up the drop seat of the boy's overalls. When he had unbottoned the seat, Willis lowered the flap with the large thumb and index finger of his good right hand and patted the pink, bare bottom that was now presented for spanking.

   Willis Cookie smiled fondly at the site before him. The special exercise and drugs that D.A.D. Inc. had given him had made him a big man. This enhanced natural paternal instincts so that the boy laid across his knees for punishment was also a boy he instinctively felt the urge to guide, protect and teach. He also felt an equally strong urge to administer a proper correction.

     Willis raised his open palm up over his right shoulder and held it there. Hollis trembled on his lap and Willis said, "Alright son, tell dad why he's given ya this spankin'."

     Hollis started to blubber a combination of fear, humiliation and 'something else.' "You can't do this!" Hollis said.

"Wrong answer!" Willis Cookie said sternly.

WHAP!

"Ow!" Hollis yelled. Once again, a bright red handprint rose up across his backside. Hollis' legs flew up, but he wasn't going anywhere.

WHAP!

Hollis bounced on Willis' knees and his backside lifted up and then sank down again. Hollis hands clenched into fists and he squeeze his eyes shut.

WHAP!

"Why are you getting a spanking, son?" Willis asked again, this time his hand fell directly after the question.

WHAP!

"Ow! Ow! Baw! Stop, please! I'll tell you!" Hollis shouted.

WHAP!

"You talk, I'm listenin'," Willis said his might palm slammed down on the dead center of Hollis' backside.

WHAP!

"Oooh! Oooh!" Hollis cried, tears starting from his eyes now. "Because…because you……."

WHAP!

"…….Oooooow! BAW! Because you told me to fix the table…(choke, sob)…..and I didn't do it!"

WHAP!

"What else?"

WHAP!

Hollis Harrison-Stanley waved his arms in frenzy, his backside was burning and each spank sent waves of pain up his back, down his legs, even up to his eyes. He kicked his legs and yowled tears spurted from his eyes.

"Baw! I….I don't know what else….BAW!"

WHAP!

"Think real hard, son," Willis Cookie said. "I'll give ya a little something to spurt your thinking…"

WHAP! WHAP!   WHAP!

Willis' palm visited Hollis' bottom three times in rapid fire spanks. The boy's backside had turned from pink to crimson by this time and he kicked, howled and wept continuously.

"Waaaaaah!" Hollis howled. His mouth in the open circle that all spanked children come to in time.

Willis stopped spanking the boy and laid his large, rough hand on Hollis' bottom. The man could feel the heat and a slight swelling in his son's rump. He gently rubbed the sore cheeks.

"Hollis, boy," Willis said, his rough voice low and gentle, "I don't like spanking you, but I have to. We've been watching you for a long time you're going the wrong way, son.   There's a whole world 'a people out there and you are just one of them. But ya know what, junior, you're number one to me!"

Hollis heard those words and something snapped inside of him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was weeping silently.

Willis Cookie lifted the limp boy off of his lap and took him up in his arms.   Hollis' face rested on Willis shoulder and Willis' strong arms held the child around the back and his bottom. The hand on the boy's bottom continued gently rubbing the sore skin while the hand on the boy's back patted him.

"Ssssh, kiddo," Willis said. "It's okay, son."

Hollis cried it out, then lifted his head and looked right into Willis Cookie's face. "I…..I…(tears ran down the boy's face)….I don't like myself daddy!" he said, and then he sagged back into the man's arms.

     For five minutes, Willis Cookie held Hollis and rocked him back and forth. Then when the boy had quieted Willis put him gently down and held him in front of him.   Hollis stood with his hands drooping, his head drooping and the seat of his pants still dangling open.

"I'm your dad, boy," Willis said, "and I love ya….I love ya too much to let ya turn out like shit! But I'll take ya back if you want."

     Hollis' lip came out as tears fell again from his eyes. The boy looked at the man and said, "Daddy, can I hug you again?!"

"Aw, c'mere you," Willis said and held out his arms.

(to be continued)