Paul Gets a "D.A.D." Daddy - Part 3

Author: Writer8322@aol.com

Chapter 3: Of Hogs and Hairbrushes

An hour later, when Shep returned, he found Paul still hacking away at the kindling; the job hadn’t been completed, but Shep was satisfied that the boy had worked steadily. He tousled Paul’s hair. "Not great, but not bad," the man said. "Next stop is the hog pen and after that, we’ll have some lunch."Shep closed his big hand around Paul’s neck and guided the boy to the hog pen. By this time it was moving towards high noon and the sun was hot overhead. The heat and the smell of the hogs wrapped itself around the-already-tired Paul, and he practically leaned against Shep’s palm to keep upright."Now here’s what you gotta do," Shep said, firmly setting the boy onto his own two feet. He fished his pipe out of his pocket and methodically began to fill it from his tobacco pouch. "You gotta go in there and fill that bucket.....(Shep pointed to a bucket hanging to the fence by a rope.)......with slops from the big trough. (Again, Shep indicated the locations.) Then you add some water and pour the swill into the smaller pig trough."Paul looked at the troughs and at the hogs, rooting in the hay and dirt in their pen and grimaced with disgust. Shep noted the boy’s look and said, "We throw hay into the pen to help keep it clean, but you’ve got to shovel out the dirty straw before throwing in clean. There’s a pitchfork in the barn if you want it." Shep gave Paul’s bare bottom a little pat, as though to point him in the right direction.Paul looked at Shep in utter disbelief. "I’m not going in there. It’s filthy!"Shep struck a match with his fingernail and held it to the bowl of his pipe when it flared into hot life. Paul stared at the pipe-lighting for a second and then raised his voice, "You can’t expect me to go into that pigpen. It’s disgusting!"Shep sucked at the pipe, blew out some smoke and then took the pipe stem from his mouth. "Do you want to go back to the woodshed?"Paul frowned in rage and gave a bellow of frustration. Shep frowned too and puffed at his pipe. "You see those hogs," he said to Paul. Paul looked at the hogs."They’re just like a bunch of naked boys," Shep said, "with their bare bottoms and curly tails."Paul glared at Shep. Shep smiled and put his pipe back in his mouth. "When one of those hogs acts up, I do them just like I did you. I cut me a hickory withe, grab hold of that hog, and whip his backside till he squeals....just like you did in the shed when you was laying in my lap."Paul’s face turned crimson. He was so angry that the recent pain of the switching flew out of his mind and senses."You’re a brute!" he yelled at Shep. "Your hogs are filthy and so are you." Paul ran to where the bucket hung from the fence. He jerked it off its hook and threw it at a group of hogs that were rooting in the straw nearby. The bucket hit one hog in the side and it squealed in pain; all the hogs scattered."You little brat!" Shep yelled. He rushed over and grabbed Paul by the arm. Paul tried to jerk his arm out of Shep’s grasp, but there was no hope of that."You think the hogs are filthy?" Shep said, pulling Paul’s shirt up and then tugging it over his head. "Well, son, I think that anyone who throws a pail at poor defenseless hogs, is pretty dirty. And if you act dirty, then you should be dirty!!"Shep tossed the boy’s shirt on the fence and picked the naked, thrashing boy up in his arms. He walked around to the back of the hog pen and on past the barn. "Put me down!" Paul cried, but the endowments of a D.A.D. dad were more than enough for an eleven year old little boy. Shep carried Paul in a one arm hold as though he were a baby."I’ll put you down son," Shep said, "where it’ll do you the most good and teach you a lesson besides."Suddenly Paul wrinkled his nose. The unmistakable, and very strong smell of fertilizer hit him like wave.Paul struggled even harder as he glimpsed an ominous little mountain in a bare field on the far side of the barn."What’s that?" Paul asked fearfully."Manure pile," Shep said and continued heading toward it.The pile was a three and a half foot mountain of animals waste left in the sun to dry. New material must have been freshly shoveled onto it, because it wasn’t dry yet.Shep adjusted Paul in his arms so he was carrying him across his two arms with the boy’s arms around his neck to keep from falling.Paul saw Shep’s intent and clung to the man despite the cloud of pipe smoke that threatened to choke him."Don’t!" Paul cried. "Don’t!"Shep said, "I told you if you want to act dirty, you can just be as dirty a you are." And with those words he plunked the boy, bottom first, into the top of the pile. At once, Paul sunk up to his neck and Shep grabbed a fistful of the boy’s hair so that he wouldn’t go under.Paul shrieked once, but Shep yelled, "Best keep your mouth shut if you don’t want anything in it" and Paul clenched his lips.Shep, unaffected and quite accustomed to the steaming mass, stood Paul up in the center of it and rubbed handfuls all up and down the boy’s chest, back and arms. Paul kept his head up and closed his eyes and whimpered, but Shep was fixed in his purpose. He scooped up a handful of the stuff and rubbed it into Paul’s hair. Some of it slipped onto the boy’s face and Shep used a dirty hand to wipe most of it away.Then he gripped Paul under the arms and lifted the complete besmirched boy out of the pile. Paul was a sorry site, covered with the excrement from head to toe. Now Paul opened his mouth and just howled in despair.Shep still holding him under the arms, and at ‘arms-length’ carried the boy back toward the barn and toward a large rough wooden water trough. The trough was tub-size and into it, Shep dropped the howling boy.The water was ice cold and Paul gasped as he resurfaced, the fertilizer running off of him in brown rivulets. Shep unwound a hose that was looped around a metal half wheel on the barn wall and turned it on.He hosed Paul down and scrubbed him with his hands until he had gotten all of the mess out of the boy’s hair, ears, and the rest of his body. Shep lifted Paul out of the trough and said, "Put your hands on the barn wall and spread your legs wide while I hose you down."Paul didn’t hesitate, although his teeth chattered from the cold, and did as he was told. Shep hosed him thoroughly and didn’t stop even when Paul said, "Please, stop. Enough, I’m clean."Shep determined when the boy was clean and then turned the hose off.Then he took the boy’s hand and marched him back to the hog pen. He pointed to Paul’s shirt on the fence."Put yer shirt on and get in there and feed those hogs!"Shep didn’t have to say another word. Paul pulled his shirt over his head and hurried into the hog pen. It’s amazing how constrasts can work. Paul didn’t seem to have any difficulty performing the task following his visit to the fertilizer pile. Several times, Shep reminded him of the best way to do something, but the boy seemed to have developed an internal motivation to do the job right!Shep smoked and then tapped his pipe out as Paul completed his chore. He tucked his pipe into his overall pocked and greeted the boy warmly as he left the pen. Paul looked tired, but not exhausted. Perhaps the hosing had invigorated him or perhaps the work itself had done the job."Time for lunch, son," Shep said.Paul looked up at Shep and said, not aggressively, "Can I have my pants?"Shep looked down at Paul and said firmly, but not unkindly, "What did I tell you before?"A look of fury flickered over Paul’s face and he almost lost it, but private thoughts intervened and the boy got himself under control. "You said I couldn’t," Paul answered blushing."That’s right. You’ll go bare-tail from now on; you’ll get used to it. Come on to the house."The house, which was very rustic from the outside, was cozy and extremely neat inside. Paul had expected something quite different and was surprised at the large living room where a sofa and some chairs decorated with Native American blankets were clustered around a large fire place. There was a whole wall of books and a very modern-looking music center. In one corner, Paul was surprised to see an OmniComp set up. But then again, of course there would be an OmniComp, wasn’t that how Shep had arrived to claim Paul as his son."Before we have our lunch, let me show you your room," Shep said.He lead Paul down a hall and past a dining room and connected kitchen, past a large bathroom and a master bedroom. Paul’s room was small, nothing like the room he had enjoyed and abused as Paul Hollander. On the door was a sign that read "Paul Flynn’s Headquarters". Paul looked at the sign and at the bearded giant towering over him. "Why does it say ‘Paul Flynn?’ My name is Hollander."Shep put his large hand on Paul’s head. Paul wanted to push it off, but - once again - repressed the urge. "Your name isn’t Hollander anymore, son. I told you everything was legal. Your my son, Paul Flynn, in the eyes of all that’s legal. I am your daddy."Paul’s eyes brimmed with tears, but he dashed them away with the back of his hands. He didn’t know why the tears had come there. Shep saw them and reached out for the boy, but Paul side-stepped him and went into the room to avoid the contact.The room had been completely outfitted for a young boy. There were posters on the wall that reflected Paul’s actual interests in sci-fi films and certain sports stars. There was a desk with a computer, a bookcase a two chest of drawers.Paul’s eyes started moistening again as he looked at the posters, but again he dashed the wetness away with his fists. "How’d you know what I liked?" Paul asked. He sauntered over to the bookshelves and noted some of the titles. He hardly ever read, but some of the titles were known to him as famous work of science fiction."’D.A.D. Incorporated’ always does research on its boys. I know everything about you, and I even have a photograph album of you at every age. I bet I got pictures that you never even saw. We can look at ‘em together tonight if you’d like."Paul shrugged and said nothing."Come on and let’s eat," Shep said. And he took Paul by the neck and guided him back to the kitchen. As they left the room, Paul looked back at the sign on the door: "Paul Flynn’s Headquarters"Again, Paul felt his eyes start to fill with tears. Why? He hated the farm and this man who thought he could spank him and keep him half naked and do anything he wanted. Why did the sign fill him with such painful but tender feelings?Lunch was vegetable soup (not made from a can) and hearty sandwiches on homemade bread. While they ate, Shep told Paul about how he had grown up on a farm raised by a ‘D.A.D.’ dad himself. He also told Paul that he was "real glad to have a boy of his own to help him..."After lunch, Shep had Paul help him wash and dry the dishes, and then he put his hand on Paul’s shoulder."Come with me into the living room, son. There’s something we have to do in there." Paul’s stomach seized up at the tone of Shep’s voice, but once again the familiar hand - large, strong and warm - was on his neck guiding him into the comfortable living room.Shep sat in a large armchair and stood Paul in front of him. "I want you to understand what’s going to happen, son," Shep said. "Your psychological profile indicates that you have suffered from a lack of direct physical contact with your parents. This is so severe that you have become disattached from other people.’Paul grimaced and Shep smiled sadly."I know that that don’t mean a lot to you, but it boils down to this. Part of your treatment here is to form connections, direct connections at the most basic level. Some of the treatment is gonna seam harsh to you, boy, but every bit of it is completely necessary."Shep pointed to the mantle over the fireplace."I want you to bring me that hairbrush that you see sittin’ up there," he said.Still disturbed by Shep’s tone and words, but not understanding the significance of a hairbrush, Paul went over, got the large wooden brush and handed it to Shep.Every morning, every afternoon and every evening, you and I will have close physical contact. In the morning, I will wake you up for a little direct stimulation with a switch. Every afternoon, you will come in here, get that hairbrush and bring it to me wherever I happen to be working. And each evening, you will hand me my slipper - they’ll be warming by the fire - and climb over my knee for another treatment. Do you understand, son?"Paul understood the basic idea, but he rejected it! He looked at the hairbrush in Shep’s fist and suddenly it took on a completely different significance. Paul started to back away, but Shep reached out, took his arm and effortlessly put the boy across his lap.Paul started kicking right away, but Shep tucked him in close and went on talking. "This is not punishment, Paul," he said. "This is therapy, and in time, you will know that it’s done because your daddy cares for you so much."Shep rubbed Paul’s bottom all over with his hand and gave it a few smacks up and down the cheeks before getting to work with the hairbrush. After only three smacks with the brush, Paul was screaming. He couldn’t believe how much it hurt.Each smack with the back of the brush both burned and sent shock waves through his legs. Shep said very little during this spanking, but he stopped after every five smacks to rub the boy’s bottom and say, "I love you, Paul. I really do."The hairbrush spanking lasted for about fifteen minutes and when it was done, Shep had spanked every part of the boy’s round little bottom leaving it bright red and very hot. Paul was crying freely, but had stopped kicking after ten minutes. It was as if he had given up his struggle and just surrendered himself to the terrible brush and the pain it produced. During the spanking, Paul was intensely aware of the feeling of Shep’s strong legs supporting him, of Shep’s hand holding on to his. Indeed, as the pain had intensified, Shep had increased his pressure on Paul’s hand as if trying to comfort the boy even as he brought him pain.Paul was also aware of Shep’s hand rubbing and comforting his sore bottom. The boy was filled with feelings.Shep lifted Paul from his lap and sat the boy on his knee. Despite the pain caused by sitting, Paul was too distressed to resist when Shep held the boy against his chest and actually rocked him in his arms for a few moments.Then he stood the boy up, used his own blue hanky to wipe his eyes and nose, and said, "Now, it’s time for your lessons, son."(to be continued)