THE BANKER
By
Ranger

Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, two gas men, one phone engineer and the guy from the local bank.

David expected the partridge in a pear tree to turn up at any moment. Probably at breakfast, since that was where most of them turned up, partially dressed, sheepish and awkward with the two small kids and the thirteen year old boy who was getting them ready for school.

“Got everything, baby?” David’s mother would say brightly when the bus turned up, just as if she’d had anything to do with turning them all out on time. She would kiss the twins who were angels for her and were hell on earth for David, and last of all she’d give her sweet, beautiful smile to David and say, every single time.

“What would I do without you, Davy?”

“Get sued by the education department.” David usually muttered as he herded the kids out to the bus.

The soldier liked kids: the twins had adored him and he’d spent quite a few evenings playing with them, which had freed David up to get enough homework done that he didn’t mind the soldier much himself. He only lasted two weeks however. The phone engineer lasted only forty eight hours. One of the gas men was okay. The other one lasted three weeks and then at one am on a Thursday morning, the talking in Miranda’s room rose to arguing; David put down his history homework and went to the door in time to hear a loud slap and a stifled scream. He had very little memory of what happened after that. Just a lot of noise that ended with one side of his face very hot and swollen and his wrists bruised, and his mother curled up on the floor in the hallway, sobbing quietly. David found himself locking the front door. He felt too numbed to care where the man had gone or what he would do next. Mechanically he checked the twins’ room, but they could sleep through a world war and not notice. David responded to his mother’s opened arms, sat down on the floor next to her and let her cradle him, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” She said eventually. “I’m sorry honey. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

“Did he hurt you?” David asked her, coming round enough to remember his was not the only face bruised. That only made her cry harder.

“No. Davy I promise you, I won’t see anyone like him again.”

David didn’t answer that. He had few memories of his father but he suspected the gas man was a fair approximation.
 
 
 

It was about three weeks later- it never took very long- when David first saw the banker in the kitchen. His alarm rang at six, early enough for him to get up and shower, get ready for school and sort out clothes for the twins. The dryer was broken again, which meant the washing was piling up. David made mental plans to go to the laundromat tonight and resigned himself to forcing the twins to wear non matching clothes. Always a battle. He woke the twins and began the daily battle of getting them up, bathed and dressed within an hour. The negotiations over the clothes took longer than usual. Tom was in tears and Luke not far off by the time he got them into the kitchen.

“You two get yourselves cereal. Luke, leave the jug alone or it’ll- I told you it’d spill. Clean it up.”

“There’s no crispies left.” Tom said bitterly, inspecting the packets. David checked the cupboards.

“I’ll get some more tonight, you’ll have to eat something else.”

“I don’t like the other stuff.”

“Then eat toast.”

Tom slid down from the table and hurtled noisily at his mother as she drifted into the kitchen, dressing gowned, hair loose over her shoulders.

“Mommy! David won’t let me have crispies!”

“Davy there must be some.” Miranda said appealingly. David shook his head. “We’re out. You need to go shopping this morning. Want me to give you a list?”

“Thankyou darling. Tom, why don’t you have a biscuit-“

“Cereal.” David interrupted. Tom burst into tears again, still louder. David rolled his eyes skywards, picked his brother up and dumped him down at the table.

“Eat. The bus’ll be here in ten minutes.”

A tall, dark haired man with an open shirt collar met his eyes from the doorway. David gave him a brief look over. Most of the men he met in this kitchen looked the same- sleepy and embarrassed. He grabbed a piece of toast off the table and shook change out of the jar in the kitchen cupboard.

“Lunch money. Tom, put it somewhere safe. Mom, the gas bill came yesterday, I left it out with your chequebook in the front hall. Fill it in now and I’ll post it on my way home.”

“You see?” Miranda told the man in the doorway. “Isn’t he wonderful?

What would I do without you, Davy?”

“You’d get cut off by the gas board.” David said bluntly. Miranda laughed and went to sign the cheque. She was gorgeous in the mornings: David watched her swirl past in her robe with his usual flood of admiration for her. Beautiful, sweet and charming; impossible not to love. He gave the man in the doorway a flat glare and hassled the twins into coats, wiped sticky faces and watched them cling to their mother, snatching final kisses as the bus arrived. David gave the man one last, warning glare and left, handing over the shopping list.
 
 
 

He spent the day in trouble at school for missed homework. It was a fairly regular problem. When he got home, the BMW was on the drive again. David paused to look at it, hating the colour and the size, and went inside to check the mail while the twins dropped coats and bags all over the hall and charged into the garden. Another bill, junk mail and the brown envelope from school. David quietly pocketed that one. Letters from school did nothing except make Miranda cry, and there was no solution to the problem David could see.
 

Miranda’s partners usually came and went very quickly. David, torn between trying to keep from flunking history and Luke, who got an ear infection and sobbed for several nights in a row, even with the antibiotics David kept pushing down him, didn’t notice how long the BMW was hanging around. It was nearing Christmas when someone tapped at his door, disturbing his homework. Jenny and the twins never knocked. David glanced up and stiffened at the sight of the banker.

“I saw your light on.” The banker said lightly. “What are you doing?”

“Maths.”

The banker came closer. David sat up very straight, bracing himself. The man looked over his shoulder and his eyebrows lifted.

“Isn’t it a bit late for doing this?”

“It isn’t finished.”

“Do you always work this late?”

“When I have to.”

“Can I help?”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

The man looked down at David. David waited, steeling himself. The man touched his shoulder and moved away. “You need some sleep too, you know.”

David grunted. He found he could survive on about five hours through long practise.
 

Christmas. The banker hung around throughout. David watched him with growing suspicion through the holiday. Miranda smiled all the time and she looked gorgeous as she always did when an affair was going well. David used the time to get his schoolwork under control and kept half an eye on the garden where the twins were learning to ride their new bikes. Where Miranda found the money to buy bikes was a mystery, but the banker was out in the garden for hours, helping the twins to ride and paying attention to them throughout. David was more than used to men cooing at the twins with their eyes on Miranda.
 

**

“That’s mine!”

“It isn’t-“

“Mine!”

“NOT!” Luke shoved Tom, who shoved back and they crashed down to the floor, locked in combat. David grabbed a chair out of the way and hauled them to their feet, temper snapped.

“STOP IT THE PAIR OF YOU! Why do you two have to fight all the time!”

“He started it!” Luke said passionately, pointing at Tom. David hooked him up with one arm and swatted his little rump hard, then grabbed Tom and did the same to him. Both twins screamed like banishees.

“I hate you!” Tom screamed, clutching at his twin for comfort. “I HATE you!”

“I hate you too you little brat!” David shouted back and slammed his door hard enough to shake the frame.
 

The twins’ wrangling was so familiar that David barely heard it unless it rose to earsplitting pitch. It was the male voice interfering that got his attention in a hurry. A firm voice, not at all angry but full of authority.

“Stop it. Luke get up. Who does that belong to? No, who does it really belong to? Well give it to Luke then.”

David waited for the shrieks of rage. They didn’t come. He got up from his desk and stole to the edge of the living room doorway. Luke was sitting on the floor, playing with the battered fire engine both twins loved. Tom was sitting astride the banker’s lap, hands locked on the man’s lapels and giggling as the man rocked him with mock roughness, back and forth, side to side, hands cupping and cradling the child’s head in a way that made David stare. Right then, he could have strangled both his brothers.
 
 

New Year. The BMW still sat on the drive.

“Doesn’t he have a home to go to?” David demanded of Miranda.

Miranda laughed. She laughed a lot at the moment. David paused in the hall to check the mail and found only the junk mail. There had been no bills for a while.

“Mom?” David followed Miranda into her room. “Mom, have you picked up any of the bills?”

“The electric came last week. It’s paid hon, don’t worry about it.”

Miranda? Paying bills? David blinked.

“Great. Look, I wrote a shopping list out last night-“

“It’s done, baby.” Miranda turned to smile at him, brushing her hair out.

“Graham took me over to the store yesterday evening. He said you were busy with your homework. How’s it going?”

“What?”

“The homework?”

“Oh.” David never considered lying to Miranda a problem. Problems were Miranda in tears, telling him she wasn’t fit to be a mother.

“Fine. Easy.”
 
 

Graham. The banker even had a name. David sat on the end of his bed, not sure what he was thinking. It was a long time before he heard a tap on his door that made him tense from head to foot.

“Hi.” Graham said from the doorway. “Can I come in?”

David shrugged. Graham shut the door behind him. From his pocket came a small, brown envelope. David felt his face flush with rage.

“That wasn’t addressed to you!”

“I thought your mother shouldn’t see it.”

“I’d have got it out of her way!”

“Is that what you usually do?” Graham asked. David didn’t answer. The letter was actually opened, the words read. Graham offered it to him.

“Do you want to tell me why for a young man who spends so much time working until the middle of the night, your grades are lousy and you don’t turn your work in?”

David stuffed the letter in his pocket. “That’s none of your Goddamn business.”

“Don’t swear at me David.” Graham said levelly. David gave him an equally level stare back. “Get out of my room.”

“David, someone is going to have to do something about your problems in school.” Graham warned. “Before you find yourself without a school to go to. You’re a bright boy-“

“I can handle it. This is nothing to do with you.”

“Did you ever think I might be able to help?”

“Just screw my mother.” David said grimly. “That’s your job. The kids and the house and our lives aren’t your problem.”

“You can handle it?”

“I can.” David said flatly. Graham didn’t answer but he quietly left David’s room.
 
 

February. One of the twins fell down the stairs one evening. The screams shook the house. Heart thumping, David grabbed his door open and headed for the hall. He was in time to see Graham jog from the living room, his voice quiet although David couldn’t make out the words. His heart started to thump again for a very different reason. David broke into a run, seeing Miranda once more on the floor, sobbing, trembling…

Luke was screaming but he was tightly curled up against Graham. Graham was rocking, stroking Luke’s hair and Luke’s howls were rapidly settling into far less terrified crying. Graham looked up over Luke’s head and his face changed as he saw David. David shut his bedroom door hard. Miranda, reading to Tom in the twins’ room, called after him but didn’t follow. David stood in his room for a minute, hardly able to move he was feeling so much. It took him nearly an hour before he calmed down. Then he took a screwdriver, went outside and ran it along both sides of the gleaming BMW.
 
 

David waited, arms tight around his knees, listening hard for hours afterwards, but no one exploded into his room. Graham went out to his car to put the alarm on and David heard him come back in. He heard his voice rise and fall with Miranda’s for a long time, but no one came near him. Eventually the tap came at his door. David didn’t move. Graham sounded terrifyingly calm.

“David I know you’re awake.”

David didn’t answer. Graham opened the door. His face was calm, his body was calm. David found himself trembling in spite of himself. Graham walked past him and sat on the edge of the bed.

“David.” He said eventually. “I think you should know, I’m not going to disappear. Your mother and I are talking seriously about getting married-“

David felt his ears numb out and start to buzz. Married. This banker in the house every day. With the twins. With Miranda. Graham reached for him. David hadn’t heard what he’d said and flinched hard. Graham stopped and after a second, drew his hand back.

“David. I’m going to take what happened with my car tonight as a mistake. A natural reaction, considering how you must be feeling. But you need to understand that I’m here now and I’m staying. And I don’t expect you ever to damage anything like that again.”

“Or what?” David said grimly. Graham looked at him for a long time.

“I’m going to be around for a long time, son. If your mother and I decide to marry then I’ll have an official title for you- but even if we don’t, loving your mother gives me responsibility for you and your brothers. I’m the nearest thing to a father you have.”

“You can’t make me do a damn thing.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Graham said wryly. “I don’t want to fight with you David.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you, period.” David told him.
 
 

The twins had one of their ‘I’m not getting up and you can’t make me’ mornings at seven am the following day. David nagged, bullied, physically pulled both out of bed and found as usual that as fast as he got one twin under control, the other one dived back into bed: three foot one of sheer defiance.

“For Pete’s sake get up!” David shouted eventually. “Luke MOVE! Tom if you get back in bed again-“

Tom squirmed out of his reach. David’s voice rose over Luke’s whining.

“Get out of it you little fucker! Get in that bathroom NOW!”

“Fuck off!”  Luke shouted back, picking up instantly on the word.

“Move!”

“Fuck,” Tom carolled, joining in with his brother, “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-“

David grabbed his arm. Graham’s voice cut across before he swiped his brother’s pyjamaed bottom. “David don’t!”

“What the hell’s it got to do with you!” David demanded, turning on him.

Graham walked past him and picked Luke up before he could get back into bed.

“They’re only little boys. You don’t treat babies with screaming and threats.”

He was dressed, ready for work. Shaved, groomed, his tie tied, his jaw shaved. He smelled reassuringly of cologne and toothpaste, big, calm and horribly competent. David hated him enough to kill him at that moment.

“You get them ready then!” David screamed at him. “You make them eat! You get them on that fucking bus in time!”

“Fuckfuckfuck-“ Tom began again. Graham looked at him. Tom stopped instantly. David felt his ears go so red they burned. He grabbed his coat off the peg in the kitchen and stormed out, letting the door bang behind him.
 

Years ago, he had considered what it might be like to get away. To live somewhere wild, with no people anywhere. No one to talk to or touch, nothing to do except the straight forward work of survival. Except there had been Miranda, who couldn’t be left. Now she had her banker. Bastard. Swine. If he wanted her and the brats he could have them. David walked, eyes stinging. Luke clinging to Graham, buried in his big arms. The twins, giggling when he lay on the floor with them, playing with their precious cars. Tom asleep on his lap. Miranda with that smile. The smile David knew wouldn’t be for him if he lived to be a hundred, no matter what he did to earn it.

Fantasies passed briefly through his mind about murdering Graham. Or burning the house down. It was followed by immediate plans for rescuing the family from the inferno, which negated the fire in the first place. David gave it up and went on wandering. He walked out of the town and onto the turnpike without really thinking where he was going. He had no idea of the time when a badly scraped BMW passed him, slowed and pulled over. David stood where he was, at bay, wishing he had a gun. Graham got out of the car and stood, leaning on the roof.

He was always so calm. David hated his gentle face and his quiet voice. It terrified him far more than the other men who screamed and made it clear what was coming.

“Where are you going?” Graham asked him. David shrugged. Graham nodded at the car.

“Get in, son.”

“No way.” David said briefly. Graham rounded the car and walked towards him. David took an involuntary step backwards, then made himself stand still, taking his shaking hands out of his pockets. Graham put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him firmly towards the car. There was nothing hard or rough in his touch. The fear worsened. David let him open the door, too scared now to resist. The car started. Graham turned the BMW away from the town, heading for the forestry land.

This is it, David thought with the familiar numbing spreading through his head. This is it. He’s going to kill me.

“David?” Graham said sharply. David swallowed. Graham pulled over, fast and David wrenched the door open in time to be very, very sick into the road. Graham jogged around the car and put a hand on his shoulders, watching him retch and shake. He dug a hand in to his pocket when David finally stopped, pulled out a handkerchief and watched David wipe his face.

“What?” he said quietly. “What the hell are you thinking about?”

David turned his head away. Graham put a hand under his chin and made him look up. David couldn’t help the jerk that shot through his body. Graham’s eyes pierced his, staring, then Graham abruptly crouched beside him, bringing his tall body down to David’s level.

“David, I am not now or ever going to harm you. I was taking you up to the service layoff, I thought it might help if we talked on neutral ground, but I see we’re better going home.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” David said with his last ounce of courage, shivering. Graham got up and waited for him to get back in the car.

“You’re coming home with me. Now.”

David balled up on the passenger seat and stared at his knees while Graham started the car and drove back towards the town.
 
 
 

“Your mother’s out.” Graham said quietly when he pulled on to the drive.

“She’ll be gone for a while. I think you and I need to talk.”

David didn’t answer. Very slowly he got out of the car and when Graham waited by the open front door, he dragged up the courage to walk past and go into the lounge. Graham dropped his jacket and keys and surveyed him, hands on his hips.

“You know how worried your mother was when you ran out this morning?”

“She’ll get over it.” David mumbled. Graham’s voice didn’t rise.

“Why would you think that?”

“She’s got you, hasn’t she? You’re only one in a long line. You’ll be out soon and someone else’ll be in. There’ll be someone else around the house.”

“Someone else knocking you and her about. I know.” Graham added. David glanced up at him. Graham sat down on the sofa as if he was abandoning the fight.

“David I’m not going anywhere. Your mother and I are going to get married, and I’ll make sure this marriage works. Nor would I ever harm her, you, Luke or Tom. Nor will I ever allow anyone else to do so.”

“If you’re staying, I’m going.” David said flatly. Graham looked at him.

“How do you think your mother will cope with that?”

“She’s got you. That’s what she wanted.”

“You know she loves you? Without you, she wouldn’t have survived the last five years.”

“She loves the bills being paid and shopping being done and the kids being at school.”

The really important things to Miranda needed anonymous men in kitchens, with fists and crying – Graham’s eyes didn’t waver. He had blue eyes, very steady and very frightening.

“Those things aren’t your job, David. You’re only thirteen. You’ve got the right to a life of your own.”

“If I don’t do them-“

“They don’t get done. I know. And then I come along and take over your house and your family and your mother, and you feel like I’ve pushed you out.” Graham said simply. “But those things aren’t your responsibility. They should never have become your responsibility and it’s a good thing you don’t need to do them any more.”

“We got along fine before you came! I could do it!”

“And you did a fine job.” Graham said calmly. “But you’re a kid. Those things are for me to do- me and your Mom together.”

“If you hurt her,” David said, trying not to shake, “I’ll kill you. I’ll get a knife and kill you.”

“No one’s going to hurt anyone.” Graham said in the same firm tone he used that stopped the twins fighting on the spot. It brought back this morning to David’s mind- the twins, struggling, hating him, screaming- and stopping dead for this usurper who could handle them much better than he ever could. Despite trying for years, despite nights and worrying and trying and working, the twins defected instantly to Graham with no more than a look and a word. David bolted for the front door. Graham moved surprisingly fast for a big man. David found his arm caught and then his hands held down.

“You’re very good at the disappearing trick.” Graham said in that same, terribly quiet tone. His hands were too powerful to twist out of. David lashed out at him in desperation, kicking at his knees, trying to bite his hands, anything to get out of that grip.

“Let me go! Let me GO!”

“David no one is going to get hurt. I won’t let anyone get hurt.”

“LET ME GO!”

“No.” Graham twisted him around suddenly and hard, put his back to the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. David found himself trapped, caught in Graham’s powerful arms with his back against Graham’s chest and Graham’s hands holding his arms tightly folded where he couldn’t hit or pull. David kicked out desperately and Graham’s far longer, far stronger legs wrapped around his and pinned them down. He was held still, inescapably still, the grip so tight every breath lifted his ribs against Graham’s encircling arms. And nothing else happened.

“It’s okay.” Graham said with his voice almost in David’s ear. “It’s allright David. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

“Let me go!” David spat, struggling for the breath to say it. “I hate you! Let me GO!”

His voice twisted up and he realised abruptly he sounded exactly like Luke. A high, shrill, little boy voice. The memory of Luke screaming in Graham’s arms torched his fury yet again. He struggled. He tried to kick, he tried to bite, he thrashed and fought, and the entire time Graham’s grip didn’t slacken. He could barely move, never mind escape. David writhed, getting steadily more desperate. In the hallway, against the man with the moustache, it had taken a heavy, repeated kick to his knees that had finally broken his terrible grip, that had saved his life. Here, he couldn’t move at all. David thrashed frantically, gasping for breath. Graham was going to kill him. He was going to die.

“It’s allright son.” Graham said in that hateful voice. “David listen to me.”

Just as on that previous time, there was no one to help. Only him to keep the man from Miranda. From the twins. If he failed-

“David you’re not going anywhere. You’re not moving.”

The moustached man had never spoken. There had been someone else, someone a long, long time ago, with a harsher voice and a smell always present and unidentifyable. David kicked out with his last ounce of energy and heard that old, forgotten voice again, quiet and absolutely sincere.

“You little shit, touch me and I’ll break your neck.”

Graham’s legs wound more tightly about his and he was pinned down. Helpless. This was it. David heard his voice spiral up into a scream he didn’t feel happening. His head was numbed, his ears sang and his body started to sob and scream exactly like Tom and Luke did when they were really distressed. The sort of distress that meant getting Miranda out of bed as the only one who could shut them up. Graham’s crushing strength lifted him, turned him around and wrapped him up again with his face against a hard, heavy shoulder. He was crushed so tightly it hurt. David looked blankly at himself in his numbness and watched his body scream. Graham rocked, saying quietly and steadily, “Allright. Allright David. It’s allright, you’re safe.”

It was a mantra that went on for an eternity. David’s body stopped involuntarily when it was exhausted. He was lying across Graham’s lap, cradled like Tom or Luke demanded to be held when they felt like being babied.

“I want to get up.” He said eventually, unsteadily.

“You're not going anywhere.” Graham said firmly. “Not until I’m sure that you’re okay.”

“I don’t want you.”

“David I think you’re going to have to live with the fact that you’ve GOT me. Wanted or not.”

“We don’t need you.”

“No?” Graham didn’t release his arms and he was still rocking slightly to and fro. “Your mother needs me. There are some people, and your mother is one of them, who can’t survive on their own. She needs someone with her every day, who she can trust with everything. Everything in her life. If she has that, and she’s safe, she’s free to give all the good things and all the strengths she has. The twins need me. They need consistency and security, they need a lot of physical care from me and your mother. They need a father who’s interested in them and has time for them and they need a great deal of love and attention. And you need me. You need me to take over all the work and effort you’ve put into being their father so you can get on with being thirteen again. You need someone with the time to make you talk and enjoy yourself and stop being so damned responsible. You need structure back in your life. You need security and someone who’s going to prove to you they’re in charge and not you. And you need love and attention as much as the little kids do, if not more, because all this time they’ve had you. You’ve had no one. You need a father more than any of the others.”

“Why?” David demanded. “Why the hell do you want us?”

“I want you,” Graham rephrased. “Because you’re smart and a hard worker, because I like the way you care so much about your family and because you’ve tried so hard to look after them. You’ve got a lot of courage and a real sense of honour and I admire you very much. The twins are just babies and babies deserve to be loved. All kids deserve to be loved. Not just because you’re part of Miranda’s life.”

“I can’t handle the twins.” David said, still shaking with the last of his sobs.

“Of course you can’t.” Graham said easily. “You’re still a child yourself, it isn’t your job. You and I are going to work on this David. You’re going to let all of this go. It’s my job and Miranda’s job to run this family, not yours. You’ve got other work to do. Like being a kid. Growing up. Getting homework done before you fall asleep over it.”

“You’re not going to tell me what to do.” David said defiantly. Graham smiled.

“Watch me.”

“You can’t make me do anything.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll scratch your car.” David said with desperation rising up again. “I’ll slash the tyres every night. I’ll run away.”

“David, whatever you say, I’m not going to harm you.” Graham said patiently. “It isn’t going to happen.”

“The minute you let me go, I’m going to run away.” David swore. “You can’t stop me. Whatever you do, I’ll get away.”

Graham didn’t answer for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. I suppose we’d get to this eventually. Get up, son.”

He kept a firm hand on David’s arm and hoisted him to his feet, getting up behind him. “I should have done this on the night you got the letter from school, and believe me we can do it again as often as you need.”

“Let me go!”

“Come here David.”

Graham drew him back to the sofa and sat down, pulling David in between his knees. He pushed David’s hands away and unbuttoned his jeans. David convulsed in his hands. “Don’t! Don’t touch me!”

“David I’m going to spank you.” Graham said calmly and firmly. “And I’m going to spank you on your bare bottom. You are not going to hurt yourself, you are not going to run away, you are not going to swear at me or defy me and you are not going to damage anything. You and I are going to make up some new rules for this house, and if you break them I am going to put you over my knee just like this.”

David fought, but Graham was far too strong. He found himself laid face down over Graham’s knees and pinned there with an arm across his back. Graham gently and remorselessly pulled his jeans down to his knees and then his pants followed, making him struggle in outraged humiliation.

“Don’t! Don’t you touch me!”

“You’re a little boy.” Graham told him. David felt a warm, strong palm across his bare bottom and flinched hard.

“You’re a little boy and you’re going to be treated like a little boy in this house. You are going to get what you need, when you need it, and if you need to be punished, I am going to punish you. Safely and carefully. I’m going to spank you for damaging my car and for running away today, as well as the tantrums you’ve thrown for me the last few days.”

“Don’t!” David struggled wildly, terrified. “Graham don’t, please!”

SWAT.

It stung. David was amazed at how much it stung. Graham’s right hand lifted and smacked down again, firmly and hard. His left arm hooked around David’s waist, holding him securely in position, his bare bottom upturned over his knee.

SWAT.  SWAT.  SWAT.

Ow.

David was used to the grey outs- the singing in his ears, the sensation of heat that overtook and cancelled out any pain. This pain refused to block out.

SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT.

This really hurt. David wriggled, unable to help himself. He’d swatted Tom and Luke whenever his temper snapped and assumed they howled because they always howled if anyone was annoyed. If this lasted much longer he’d be howling himself.

SWAT. SWAT. SWAT.

David began to pant, bucking under Graham’s arm. Graham didn’t pause or slow up in the slightest.

SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT.

David hung over Graham’s knee, twisting and kicking as each spank connected with his sensitive bottom, panting and struggling to keep his eyes on the floor and somehow deal with this horrendously intense experience. His bottom hurt- really hurt- and he was not sure he could cope with much more. Or what he would do if he reached breaking point. And yet it was worse, because he knew there was no danger here. No reason for panic, no reason for his mind to initiate all it’s defences. Graham was quite right: he was not being harmed at all. Just smacked. Safely, controlledly, vigorously smacked. And it hurt.

SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT. SWAT.

“Don’t hold it in.” Graham said above him, with that calm voice that seemed, incredibly, to be sincere. Quiet and calm and gentle.

“Don’t choke on it David, let it go. Try and cry. Shout. Make some noise.”

Gasp. Choke. Swallow.

“Put some noise in it, Davy. Say ouch. Scream. Make some sound, son, you need to let it go.”

“Ouch.”

“Good boy.”

That was too bizarre to cope with from someone emphatically spanking his bare behind for NOT being a good boy. David gasped and tried again.

“Ouch.”

A little louder, but still choking him. He was twisting, his bottom stinging until he couldn’t hold it still.

“Good boy. I’m not your Dad, Davy. He’s gone, he’s forgotten, he can’t hurt you any more. I’m not going to harm you the way he did.”

“Ouch!”

“Atta boy. I told you this morning, son. You don’t threaten and scream at babies. You don’t break bones. You don’t terrify them. What he did to you and your Mom was wrong. It was wicked. I won’t let anyone do it again. Ever. Do you understand me? You’ve got no choice, Davy. You are going to accept me, you are going to have a father and you are going to let me take care of you however you need it.”

David’s lungs suddenly burst. “OW! OWWW!”

“That’s it, let it go.  That’s a boy.”

David burst into tears. Loud and noisy sobs. Graham pulled him closer and went on spanking firmly, feeling him shudder and shake and then surrender to nearly hysterical tears. He went on spanking for a minute more, waiting until the boy was too deeply cracked open to easily stop crying, then he lowered his hand and let David slide down to his knees on the floor. David’s face was a mess of tears and sweat and he was crying hysterically, on and on, but in his own voice, not in that ghostly child’s voice. Graham pushed his hair out of his eyes and stroked his head, listening to him cry until David calmed down enough to be aware of him. Then he drew David up into his arms and held him, rubbing his scarlet, sore bottom with a now gentle hand.
David pulled and fought briefly, then surrendered and clung to his neck.

“Can you hear me David?” Graham said quietly.

David nodded somewhere in his shoulder. Graham stroked his back.

“You deserved that, didn’t you? You tried everything you could to make me angry and it didn’t work. It never will. If you deserve to be spanked again, I’ll spank you. Across my knees with your bottom bare, and I won’t stop until I think you’ve been punished enough. But that’s ALL that’s ever going to happen, Davy. That’s it. Finito. That is as bad as it is ever going to get. You might get spanked longer and harder if you do something bad enough, but a spanking is all. The ultimate. If you ever make me angry, I’ll go away and calm down before we talk. And if you get as angry as you did just now, I’m going to hold you until you’re calm and you’re ready to talk. No one is ever going to get hurt, no one needs to be scared. You don’t need to be afraid of me. Do you believe that?”

David didn’t answer. Graham pulled him away and held his face between both big hands.

“Do you? I’ll prove I care about you, that I can stop you and that I won’t damage you no matter what you do, but you’ve got to promise me you won’t go looking for extremes to test me out. You’re a bright kid. If you need proof, you ask me.”

“Yes.” David gasped out. Graham fastened his pants up and sat back on the sofa to pull David onto his lap. David coughed and wriggled against his arms, voice still unsteady with sobs.

“You can’t do that, I’m too big.”

“You’ve got a father now young man,” Graham said firmly, “I’m in charge around here and I’ll cuddle you when I damn well want.”

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