rebeldadson2

REBEL D.A.D./Rebel Son - P2

REBEL D.A.D. / rebel son

A Story Set in the Brave New World of D.A.D.

Chapter Two: Lonnie Meets his D.A.D.

Lon Conway was a handsome boy! His dirty blond hair was short and curly and he had green eyes that were generally slitted like a cat's. He was 5'10" and still growing and his onepiece clung to a young firm body that loved to swim but scorned all other sports as "Dumb!" Lon hated the dorm, but he really hated the notion that he was - at eighteen longevity years - going to become a strange Man's son!   This Man would have complete and legal authority over Lon until he was twenty-one longevity years old that would take more than a quarter of a century!!

It was High Father John himself who had informed Lon that he was getting a D.A.D., but he had absolutely refused to give out any personal information about the Man to whom Lon would be teleported.

"I'm too old!" Lon argued. "That's the problem with 'all of this!' I don't need to be in a dorm or a school or anything. I'm almost a Man. I am a Man!!"

"You're a boy!" High Father John said simply. "And the fact that you call yourself a Man indicates that you are still a little boy. Oh yes, Lon, a little boy and in great need of a Man to guide you and mold you.

'You have been deprived of a real Father's attentions and that's been at the root of your problems."

"Bull shit!" Lon muttered.

High Father frowned. "I should punish you for that!" the Man said. "Indeed I am breaking my own rules by not doing so, but I daresay that your new Father will know how to use a bar of soap to good purpose."

Lon made a scornful sniffing noise.

"To good purpose!" High Father John repeated.   Then he softened. "Lon, I don't want to be harsh to you, no one does, but you need 'bringing back,' back to a state where you can drop this rebellious spirit and discover the happiness that comes with being secure and safe and loved. We've tried to give you these at the Dorm, but it's clear that you need one Man to identify with, and we think we've found that Man."

"I think you've lost it, High Father," Lon said, "and I'm not going!"

Lon went, but it took two Big Brothers and two D.A.D.s to manhandle him into the omnicomp portal.   According to D.A.D. disciplinary standards, Lon's behavior as he was forced into the portal, should have earned him a number of mouth-soapings and a profoundly tanned backside, but it was all the guards could do to hold Lon within the portal and code the omnicomp. Even as the portal began to glow, and the guards were able to release Lon to the portal's 'molecular grip' the boy managed to middle-finger his tormentors before disappearing. One of the D.A.D.s, he had sustained a bite on the knuckles from Lon, sucked his hand and said, "I'd sure love to have that boy stretched over my lap and a good sized paddle in my fist!"

The other D.A.D. shook his head and said, "No you wouldn't. I've had the dubious honor, and that kid is a misery. Good luck to the poor Man who's becoming that hellion's Daddy."

"Who is it anyway?" the first D.A.D. asked.

The second D.A.D. shrugged, "Someone named Palley," he said.

*        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *

As soon as Lon Conway materialized in Sam Palley's den he bolted for the door. Sam put out one leg and the boy fell full length on the floor.

"Oopsy-daisy," said Sam. He reached down, grabbed a fistful of pants seat, and hauled the boy to his feet. Sam took his pipe out of his mouth and tapped the bowl out into his palm. He dropped the ashes into a nearby pipe tray and pocketed the pipe.

"Hey, kid, welcome home!" Sam said amiably. He looked the teenager over. He was a nice looking kid wearing the traditional gray onepiece that was standard issue at the dorm.

Lon's green eyes took on their cat-slit look. "This ain't my home, mister, and I'm not staying here."

"You're staying, kid. Believe me! I know it don't feel like home to ya, how could it, but maybe it will.....after a while. Place gets to be home when you have experiences in it. You ain't had any experiences here yet. 'Cept for fallin' on yer face!" Sam Palley reached into his onepiece and scratched his thick thatch of chest hair. Lon could see the large dark nipples jutting out of the thatch. He scanned the Big Man and took his measure. He was huge! At least seven foot tall and massive!   Lon couldn't muscle his way past this monster! He would have to wait for an opening.

"Okay," the boy said with exaggerated casualness, "where do I park myself." He picked up the satchel that had been thrown into the portal as Lon was transported.

Sam eyeballed the boy and chuckled, "So you've decided to wait for a safe chance to beat it, huh boy?" Sam chuckled again. "Don't blame ya, but maybe you oughta give this setup a shot. It's stupid to run out before you know what the score is. Don't ya think so?"

Lon stared at Sam and shrugged. "I don't need a father!"

"What do ya need?" Sam asked.

"My freedom," Lon snapped immediately.

Sam shook his head and grinned ruefully, "It don't exist, son!   B'lieve me, I know. I spent too many years trying to be free, but life ain't about freedom. It's about something else."

"What?" Lon asked.

"You gotta figure that one yourself. Maybe I can help ya, maybe not. C'mon, I'll show you your room."

Lon's silently admired the room that Sam had given him, though he wouldn't say as much. It wasn't big, and it was simple, but it was nice and cozy. Unlike the Dorm, which had a high-tech sterility, this room had a woven rug on the floor and autumny curtains on the window and a low bookshelf crammed with colorful book spines.

There was a disc player on a little round table and a few simple paintings on the wall. Sam put Lon's satchel on the bed and said, "I don't guess that you want me messin' with your stuff, so I'll leave ya to unpack. You can stick your gear in that dresser and the closet. I'll make us some lunch."

Lon didn't unpack his satchel. Why bother. He just opened the closet and threw it in. Then he looked at some of the books and went out t find Sam.

Sam was out in the open space that was both kitchen and dining room. He was busy cutting stuff up on a counter island. "Ya like stir fry?" Sam asked.

Lon shrugged.

"I like it. It's simple and you can throw everything but the toilet into it. Here, chop up these peppers, kid." Sam handed Lon a knife and then looked away. Lon held the knife for a moment and watched Sam cutting up an onion. Then Lon sliced the pepper. He did the same with some mushrooms and some chicken.

When Sam fried everything up, along with some sauce he threw in, it smelled wonderful and Lon found his mouth watering. He would eat the stuff. Why not? Let the Man think he was coming around it would make getting the hell out of there a little easier.

The stir fry tasted as good as it smelled and Lon ate a lot. While they ate, Sam said very little, but when they were almost done he said, "You do any woodwork?"

Lon looked surprised. "No, why?"

"Ya got good hands for wood. After we clean this stuff up, I'll take you out to the shed and teach ya a few things."

Lon wanted to say, "No!" but that wouldn't help with his scheme, so he said nothing.

*        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *
The woodshed was actually a good-sized workshop with a bandsaw and well-kept tools and wood piles.

There were shelves with a number of objects on them: doorknobs, lamps, and a hand-carved chess set that Lon would have really like to examine.   On one side of the room were two-unfinished projects: a chair and a cabinet.

Sam grinned when Lon looked at those and scratched his chest again. "I start stuff, but I don't aways finish. You ever use a band saw?"

Sam showed Lon how to uses the saw and Lon allowed Sam to put his large hairy hands over the boy's and stand close behind him as he showed him how to guide wood through the blade.

"We've got to do some work on this old glider we've got hanging from the porch ceiling, so I want ya to cut that wood like I showed ya. Got it?"

Lon clenched his lips. He got it, but he did't want to do it. But again, he reconciled himself with the thought that he was just bidding his time.

For thirty minutes Sam and Lon worked and then Lon had enough. "I'm tired," he said. "It's hard holding the wood straight. I'm quitting."

Sam was screwing a hinge into one piece of wood as Lon said this but he stopped and put it aside.

"Kid, you don't just quit on a job. You finish and then you quit!"

"I quit when I'm tired," Lon said irritably.

"Not here you don't," Sam said.

Lon forgot his plan. Who the fuck was this Man to lecture him like this.

"What ya want, a slave or a son?" Lon threw out. He thought it was pretty clever, but Sam didn't.

"Ya use language like fertilizer, don't ya. Ya just throw it around and think you've planted something.   Finish the wood and then you can quit."

"I'm outta here," said Lon and he made for the shed door.

"Don't open that door, kid," Sam warned, but Lon flipped him that 'old middle finger' and tore the door open. AND SAM WAS ON HIM.!

Lon hardly knew what hit him. One moment he had one foot out of the shed, the next he was jerked off his feet and the door was slamming and locking. Sam had a handful of trouser seat in his fist and a flairling eighteen year old dangling from his hand.

Without a word, Sam grabbed up a flat piece of board and then sat down in his chair. Lon's feet found the floor and he tried to swing a punch at Sam, but Sam effortlessly flipped the boy off the ground again and swung him up and across his knees.

"Get off!" Lon screamed, long arms grabbing Sam's legs and trying to use that leverage to push himself off the man's lap. Sam's left arm held the boy down while his hand tucked him close to his body.

"You ain't going anywhere, kid, so accept it!"

"FUCK YOU!" Lon yelled.

"More fertilizer," Sam said. "Boy, you sure know how to motivate a man!" Sam reached for the buttons at the back of the boy's onepiece.

"STOP!" Lon yelled. He knew what the man's intention was.

The buttons fastened the drop seat that were a standard feature of all boys' onepiece uniforms. It made toileting easy and it made other things easy too.

"Always thought these fanny doors were dumb," Sam said, unbuttoning Lon's flap, "but now I guess I'll have to change my opinion."

Sam turned down the flap and Lon's firm, well-rounded, perfectly bare backside was put on presentation for his father's disposal. The opening offered a view that extended from the boy's lowest vertebrae to the beginning of his legs.

Sam rested the wooden slat across Lon's bare bottom.

"You can't spank me!" the boy roared defiantly.

"I can't!" Sam said in a somewhat amused voice. "Looks like that's exactly what I can do. More importantly...I guess it's something you really need. Didn't anyone ever teach you about respect or manners."

Lon ignored the questions "If you hit me, I'll kill you. I swear I will," the boy threatened.

"Hey, I'm not gonna 'hit' you kid. I'm gonna spank ya. And I'm gonna spank ya good! And you know why...not because I'm angry with ya...I understand that you don't want to be here. I'm gonna spank ya because you didn't obey me when I said you had to finish your work. Got it! When I tell you to do something, boy, you DO IT! 'Cause if you don't, you're gonna find yourself in this position again! And you are not gonna like it!"

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" Lon yelled over and over again.

"I guess I'm waistin' my time with talking. Here," Sam hefted the shingle, "let's let the lumber talk!"

WHAM!   WHAM! WHAM!

Sam applied the paddle to the bottom of Lon's backside with good vigor. It only took two good wallops for the boy to start thrashing and his bottom to turn red.

WHAM!   WHAM! WHAM!

Lon gritted his teeth. He was not gonna give this 'mother fucker' the satisfaction of breaking him down. He'd let the guy kill him first.

WHAM!   WHAM! WHAM!

"Son, I know that this is a real old adage, but this hurts me as much as it does you. I get no pleasure in hurting you, but if you're gonna live under my roof, you're sure as hell gonna mind me."

"Uh!" Lon grunted, straining for control. "I'm not your fuckin' son!"

"Yeah, boy, you are! I'm your daddy and that's a legal fact. And I don't need this.." Sam tossed away the board, "..to prove it.    The flat of my hand can handle this job!"

And Sam lifted his hairy arm and his well-fleshed palm cracked against Lon's backside.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon almost cried out as Sam spanked him with his hand. Why? It didn't hurt worse than the board, although Lon was shocked by how much the Man's hand did hurt!    Was it the intimacy of the contact?

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"And when I'm all done warming your backside, you're gonna take up your tools and finish the job!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon gritted his teeth, but he felt it coming. A sob! And tears were welling in his eyes. He couldn't help it.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sam's hand relentlessly spanked the teenager's backside. The top of the boy's bottom was dark red now and shiny. Sam redirected his palm and concentrated on Lon's sensitive 'sit-down' spot the soft lower buttocks.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon gasped with the pain and fought back his tears.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sam lifted his foot slightly, pushing down on his toes, and Lon's bottom was lifted a split. Sam's palm smacked against the split and the inside of the Lon's backside began to be spanked.

"Aah!" Lon cried out it was pure reflext - well out of his control.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon blindly reached behind to try and catch Sam's punishing hand, but the only result of that was that Lon's wrists were caught by Sam's left hand and pinned at the base of his back.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"OW! Lon yelped. "You're...you're killing me!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"No one's been spanked to death yet!" Sam said sternly.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

All of the boy's bottom was red now..red and swelling. And still Sam's powerful palm did its work. It went up and down tirelessly spanking the boy on his lap.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon twisted his head from side to side. The tears he had fought back flew from his eyes and he wailed sorrowfully.

"(gulp!) Stop! Hey, I'm sorry! STOP!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"I'm sorry, boy, but I can't stop yet. You haven't learned your lesson."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sam started spanking the top of Lon's thighs, the upper area that was just laid bare by the lowered fanny flap.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon's thighs turned from white to pink to crimson in moments and still Sam spanked away at the boy's legs.

"Waaah!" Sam bawled. "Oh, stop, Mister, please! Baaw!"

"Not yet, boy, you've got some more to go!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon grew desperate. He couldn't, he couldn't take any more spanking.

"It hurts! Ooooh! It hurts soooo bad! Baw!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"I know it does, son," Sam said, his voice quiet and softer, "I know it does and I'm sorry, but it has to be done!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The boy's legs kicked and his head jerked up and down as he wept and wept.

"Oh, please! God! Daddy! Please!" Lon sobbed.

Sam continued spanking the boy.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"I'll be good! I'll be good!" Lon swore..and he meant it.

"You will be good, son, or I'll bare your bottom and spank you again. But your spanking isn't done yet!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Once again, Sam concentrated on the center of Lon's backside, directing his palm to the slightly swollen button that gaped as it was spanked.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Aaaaah! Oh, daddy! Oh, daddy!" Lon chanted in distress. "I.I'm sorry, daddy. Daddy Pleeeeasssse!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sam was, if truth be known, in almost as much distress as Lon.   He had not wanted to spank the boy. He didn't like hurting him, but he understood that the boy needed this. Not just the punishment and the pain. He needed the intimacy, the regression. He needed to be a little spanked boy over daddy's lap.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sam paused and rubbed the hot, swollen backside that rested over his knee. Lon lay limp and sobbing.   His crying sounded very young, very like a little boy.

"Just a little more, son. Daddy has to spank you just a little more so that you remember!"

"Oooh, boo hoo!" Lon sobbed. "I remember now, daddy, I remember now!"

"Just a little more!" Sam said. He was amazed at just how on target his D.A.D. training had proved. The boy had been brought back to an earlier stage. Now, perhaps, he could begin rebuilding the unhappy boy, bringing him to him and then raising him as a true son.

Sam rubbed the crimson hiney and then patted it gently. "Just a little more spanking son and it'll all be over. But you still have to finish your work. Do you understand that?"

"Ye-yes!" Lon blubbered, he still couldn't stop his crying. His backside throbbed and burned. It wasn't possible that this man, this Dad, would spank him any more.

But he did!

Sam lifted his palm and commenced the hard spanking.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Lon was instantly bawling lustily and kicking again.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sam spanked away at the boy's backside not leaving any part unattended.

"You'll finish your work?"

"YES! YES, DADDY!" Lon howled, his voice begging Sam to stop spanking him.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"And you'll do what I tell ya?"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"I will! I.(Baaaaw!)..I..pro-mise! Aaaaaah! Please!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sam brought the spanking to a close with a crescendo of wallops to the bottom of the boy's behind, bringing the deep crimson to an almost grape-like color.

Then he pulled Lon up and off his lap and held him standing between his knees. Lon instantly grabbed hold of his outragedbackside and held on tight, grimacing, crying and bending his knees with the pain.

"You deserved that spanking, Lonnie," Sam said, "and I expect you'll deserve other trips across my knee, but I hope not too many. It's up to you. You understand? Say 'Yessir' if ya do."

"Oooh!" Lon moaned. "Yessir! I understand. Oooh, my ass is on fire!"

"I bet it is!" Sam said assertively. "And I can set it on fire any time you give me cause. And remember, boy, that was mostly with my hand." Sam held up his palm, which was all well-reddened. "If I had given you the same hiding using that wood, or my hairbrush, you'd be walking with a noticable limp!"

"Oooh!" Lonnie wept.

Sam stood up and pulled the sobbing boy up against his chest. He held him tightly for only for a moment, feeling Lon's tears dripping through the thick mat of hair on his chest to the skin beneath. Then he patted the boy's bottom and released him.

"Here, let me button you up!"

Sam turned the unprotesting boy around and then, after seeing his backside said, "On second thought, ya better leave it bare for awhile. Your fantan needs some oxygen!"

Sam took Lon's arm (the boy's hands still gripped his backside with intensity) and lead him back to his work. He didn't say anything, but he was releaved when Ron picked the wood he'd been working on and started the band saw again.

Sam went back to his own work, but he kept glancing over at his son. The boy was alternately staying on task and stopping to rub his burnished backside. The dangling flap and the exposed red bottom presented a very piquant visual.   Sam had hated spanking the boy, but he had to admit that the kid's well-reddened fanny was a cute visual.   And the periodic rubbing of the spanked bottom made the boy younger and even more appealing. Sam remembered the brief hug he had given the boy it had felt good. Fathering was going to come naturally to Sam Palley.

(to be continued)