Dressing Dex
(This story takes place in July 2008.)
I walked into Grandy’s (a fast food chain located in Texas and a few other southern U.S. states - it serves home-style food like chicken fried steak, mash potatoes, and wonderful breakfasts). It wasn’t the most unusual thing I’ve done on a Sunday morning. The only reason it seemed odd was that, normally I would have been herding a pack of rascals who’d already been shined and were trying to behave like they belonged in civilized company rather than a Mongol horde.
When I walked in the door, a rather harried looking woman glanced up to say hello and looked much less harried when she saw me.
"Oh, thank God you’re here, Jack. I’m so sorry to bother you, but…"
"It’s not a problem, Tina. I’d hardly think you could keep the boys up here all day."
If you’ve read my earlier stories, you may remember that Tina was one of my best friends in grade school. She and I were in the same class in fourth grade, then her mom re-married and they moved to another school. I honestly didn’t notice her in middle school, but we were both in debate in high school and spent a fair amount of time together. By that time, we weren’t best friends, but we got along and could talk to each other.
I lost track of her after high school. About 10 years after that, she came into the comic store one day. ‘I knew this had to be you; cats and comics and it couldn’t be anyone else’. She’d put on a little weight, but still looked really good. She was home to see her parents for Christmas and was just looking to see who was still in town.
After that, she and I kept each other up to date by holiday cards. She sent me a wedding announcement, and I sent gifts when each of her sons were born. When they came into town, she’d often stop by the house or store to visit for a bit, which is how I met the kids. The visits cut down a lot when they moved to Colorado.
It had been only a few months before when she called to let me know she was divorcing. She had already decided that she was returning to Bransom, to be closer to her mom, who was in a nursing home because of her health, and had wanted to know if she could stay with me while looking for a place to live and followed it up with a request for help moving in.
When we got her moved into their new place - a not exactly new duplex on the old side of town, I offered to find her a place in one of my businesses, but she didn’t want to take ‘charity’. She’d never gone to college, but had done a lot of fast food, and was able to find a job as shift manager at Grandy’s. She’d even been able to get scheduled Monday through Friday, so her only problem was getting the boys to school, which she’d been able to handle that with the help of a neighbor who had a boy the same age as the younger, who was going to trade the neighbor getting the boys to school, for Tina picking them up from school.
The problem came when she was called into work to fill-in for a sick, weekend opener. She got the call at 5:30 and didn’t really even have time to get herself ready before she needed to be there. She had no choice but to take the boys to work with her. She tried to wait until a decent hour, but two tired, cranky boys hanging around a restaurant was not really conducive to peace of mind for anyone - I’m sure it didn’t make their early morning customers very happy. She waited until 6:15 to call me.
Her kids are both sweethearts. Well, they look like sweethearts, anyway. Gordon is about the most hyper kid that I’ve ever known. I think he might have similar problems to what Charlie’s had to deal with, and I’ve been working with Tina to help him cope with them before they cause him real trouble. Dexter is better balanced, but he has a severe case of daddy-worship, which seems to be causing some troubles for Tina.
At 9 Gordy is the elder. He’d just finished third grade, and had almost had to repeat it. I had a couple of long talks with him, with his mom, and with both of them. It took a lot of work, but I was able to talk Tina into allowing me to give Gordy a ‘scholarship’ (through the Huff Foundation, so it was semi-legitimate) to attend the Bransom Christian Academy. Unlike many Christian schools, BCA is a very good school. They teach science (including evolution - as a possible way that God may have created life) as ‘how’ and religion as ‘why’. It happens to be a view that I hold myself. Their teachers are all state certified as educators (especially those teaching the lower grades) or have a degree in the field they are teaching. The best thing about them is that they have small class sizes. Through fifth grade, they hold the class size to 18. In the upper grades, they’re a bit smaller, because after fifth grade, most classes are separated by gender. From what I learned, I felt like Gordy would benefit from closer supervision and the more personal attention, as well as from the stricter discipline they enforce (BCA practices corporal punishment almost enthusiastically, including pants down spankings and even the possibility of bare bottomed punishment if a child is sent to the office). As a matter of fact, I liked BCA so much that I decided to send Van there, because of the problems with need for attention he’d had in kindergarten.
Gordy can be very charming when he wishes to be. He’s blond, but with pale blue eyes. He has an infectious smile, lot’s of energy, and a natural enthusiasm and curiosity to which I find myself hard-pressed not to respond (even when irritated with him). I think that once Gordy gets settled into puberty, he’s going to be a very good looking young man. Not that he’s ugly now; he’s kind of cute, but he has a strong bone structure that somewhat overpowers his features right now. I’d bet money he’s going to go from okay to knock-down gorgeous over the years. I find that I keep looking at his eyebrows, trying to decide if they’re light brown or true blond, and wondering what color his body hair will come in.
Dex is a little different from his brother. His hair and eyes are a medium to dark-brown. I’ve seen pictures of Gordy when he was that age, and when he was 6 - Dex’s current age - he’d lost all the baby fat that Dex still has. While Gordy’s okay looking, Dex is just flat out adorable. Which is good, because he has a bit of an attitude that makes me crazy. I hate to suggest it’s wrong for a boy to love his father, but Dex refuses to admit that his dad ran off with some cheap slut during a mid-life crisis, leaving Tina to cope with the kids. He can be as charming as his big brother, but he can also be stubborn as a mule. When he sets his mind to something, his brow wrinkles and he gets that little ‘I want’ crease on his brow, right between the eyebrows.
Gordy really likes the twins, but is the same age as Bryce. The twins tolerate him and he and Bryce get along okay. Dex gets along pretty well with Van and likes playing with Van and his friends, but Van gets a little nervous around Dex sometimes. From things he’s said to me, I think he’s worried about Dex committing blasphemy - Van told me Dex said, ‘I don’t have to mind your daddy’. Van was waiting for me to strike him dead for saying it, and I think Van might still be watching for lightening when Dex is around.
I gathered the two boys and their toys. Tina came around the counter and knelt down in front of them.
"Uncle Jack’s doing us a favor, so please don’t give him any trouble guys. Y’all are going to church with him and I’ll bet you have a good time. I’m telling all three of you right here, if you don’t mind, Jack has my permission to spank your bottoms. The way you’ve been acting this morning, I’m half tempted to ask him to do it as soon as he gets you home."
Gordy’s eyes went wide. He’d seen the paddles hanging in the guy’s rooms, and I had little doubt he’d heard some of the stories. After a second, he turned his 120-watt smile in my direction, and you just know he was polishing his halo. Dex, on the other hand, got that little wrinkle to the brow and opened his mouth, revealing those missing front teeth.
"Don’t say it, squirt," I warned him.
"Don’t say what?"
"I don’t know. But whatever you were going to say was just going to cause trouble. Kiss your mom good-bye and let’s get out of here. It’s getting close to time for the guys to have breakfast, so I need to get home and get cooking."
Dex glared at me for a minute, then decided on the better part of valor and kissed his mom. Gordy followed suit, and I was soon herding the two of them to the car.
By the time I got Dex and Gordy back home, the boys were up and starting to move. I broke one of my normal rules and plopped the two of them in front of the TV and let them watch the cartoon mix we’d played the previous day. They watched that only pausing long enough to eat a little more. While they watched a bit more TV, my boys started getting cleaned up and dressed for church.
For all of Gordy’s behavior problems, he’s a good kid. If you expect him to sit quiet for long periods and stay still, you’re going to be disappointed. If you walk him through simple, easy steps, he’ll go out of his way to please you. When breakfast was over, I took Gordy down to the basement - and the hand-me-down closet. His mom hadn’t had time to think that I took the boys to church every Sunday and wouldn’t have had time to pack anything for them if she had.
"Get your clothes off, Gord, and we’ll find something for you to wear to church."
He didn’t question; he stripped. Okay, I don’t know how many little boys I’ve watched undress over the years. Dozens? Scores? Hundreds? (Okay, I doubt it’s that many.) Still, it’s a pleasure to watch a new boy do it.
Gordy’s jean shorts, t-shirt, and socks were quickly stacked on the table, leaving him standing in nothing but his white Fruit-of-the-Looms. They weren’t very snug, obviously bought with an eye towards lasting him a while. He was still cute in them, though. He was as lean as you’d expect from a boy that was all energy and motion. You couldn’t quite count his ribs, but they were easy enough to make out and his belly was clearly delineated and firm. He had a cute little outtie. He was just all over cute. He did have just a little bit of extra flesh on him and it was right where it was supposed to be. His bottom wasn’t chubby, but it had enough flesh to make it look spankable, even through his saggy briefs.
With his blond hair and ruddy complexion, Gordy looked great in a brown suit that Josh had outgrown recently. With his lean build, things were a bit loose on him, but I managed to find a white, button-down Oxford that wasn’t too bad and the whole thing looked great with a yellow-gold tie. Except for the little cowlick that just wouldn’t stay down, he looked like a perfectly presentable young gentleman. Which probably has something to do with why they say you shouldn’t judge a book by the cover.
With Gordy dressed and wearing a pair of brown top siders that I’d had to stuff with Kleenex to keep from falling off his feet, I took him back to the TV and grabbed his little brother. Dex complained about not being through watching cartoons, so I settled it with the simple expediency of picking him up. He wasn’t happy about it, and I heard about it the entire walk.
Where Gordy was about the same age as Bryce - bigger than him, but smaller than the twins - Dex was about the same size as Van. I took Dex to Van and Bryce’s room, where the two of them were both in the process of getting dressed. Neither of them is shy, and they just said hello as we joined them.
"Okay, Dex," I told him, "get your clothes off and I’ll find you something to wear to church."
"I’m not goin’ to church," he responded with all the calm of someone who didn’t know what they were messing with.
"Yes, you are. We can do it the easy way, or we can do it the hard way, but we are going to church, and you are going with us."
"My daddy says I don’t have to go to church. Church is just a… ummm… a opie for … umm.."
"An opiate for the masses?" I supplied.
"Yeah!"
Great. Nothing like knowing the kid's dad was teaching him Marx to make me respect him. "Well, since your daddy’s not here, just consider yourself part of the masses for today. Now, are you going to get your clothes off?"
"No."
I had neither the patience nor the time to argue, so I grabbed him and carried him over to the spanking chair. Bryce and Van both googled. Van’s pretty soft-hearted and you can tell he felt bad for his friend; but, with the innate lack of empathy most boys seem to possess, they were both fascinated by this chance to watch without facing their own hot bottoms.
I almost hated to disappoint them.
We’re not even going to pretend that Dex had a chance to resist me. I’ve been undressing unhappy boys for spankings for almost 30 years by this time and he didn’t even know where to start stopping me. If he tried to put his hands in the way, I just spun him around and attacked from a different direction. When he tried to pull away, I drug him back over my leg, so he was bent backwards and more worried about his balance than his fly. Almost sooner than I can say it, he was standing there in a pair of Sponge Bob briefs, ankle socks, and the closest thing to righteous indignation that a 6-year old can achieve. Dexter is far from chubby, but he had a slight outward swell to his belly and he was just soft, not firm and wiry like Gordy. He was still cute though, and probably more spankable, judging by the way Sponge Bob curved.
"You stand right there while I get something for you to wear."
"I don’t need nuthin’. I got my clothes."
"You can’t wear overalls to church. You should dress nice for church, to show your respect for the other people attending, if nothing else."
"I’m not going…"
"Save it," I cut him off. "You’re going."
I dove into the boys closet and came out a minute later with the little outfit Van had worn for Easter. He still wore it, but he’s a bit of a clothes horse and likes to change around, rather than wear the same thing every week. I sat the clothes on the spanking chair and grabbed an A-shirt from Van’s undies drawer.
Dex was sulking and folded his arms across his chest when I asked him to raise them. I grabbed him by the forearms and gently raised them above his head. He resisted, and, as soon as I let go, he dropped them back to his side. Bryce was busy pulling on his slacks, but Van’s eyes went wide at the blatant disobedience. I didn’t let it shake me, though. I just reached behind him and lined my hand up with the middle finger running along the leg band of his undies. Dex was twisting around and giving me a ‘what the heck are you doing look, when I pumped my hand up and back sharply on his little bottom.
Dex yelped, "You can’t spank me."
I just looked at him. Van and Bryce just looked at me, like someone awaiting the next eruption of Vesuvius. I ignored them and turned Dex to face me.
"I haven’t spanked you, Dex…yet. Now, raise your hands."
Dex stared at me for a minute, then lifted his hands above his head. I picked up the A-shirt, rolled it up, and pulled it over his head. He dropped his hands to his side as soon as it was there. I pulled the t-shirt down, then picked up the blue-striped seersucker shorts. I leaned down to pull them on and he just stood there.
"Dex, you’re really making this difficult. Please lift a foot."
He still just stood there until another yelp escaped him. Both of my boys looked back to see if he’d had another spank and were surprised to see my leg propped in the seat of the spanking chair with Dex laying across it, kicking as I pulled his shorts on. Dressing a little boy isn’t a big deal. Dressing one who doesn’t want to be dressed is a bit more difficult.
After a couple of more minutes trying to get the shorts on (and to stay on - they were kicked off at least twice), I placed a couple of more swats on his little bottom. The response was not what I’d expected.
"My dad says you shouldn’t hit little boys."
I dropped him on his feet so he was facing me.
"First, your dad’s not here and not in charge. Your mom’s in charge, and she told me that I can spank you if you need it. Second, I just told you that I didn’t hit you."
Dex stood there looking at me and rubbing his bottom for a second, disbelief evident on his face, before he finally said, "You did, too."
"No, that was a span… Not even a spanking, just a couple of swats. Calling a spanking hitting is like calling a penny a dollar, because there are pennies in it. Now, GET DRESSED!"
Dex jumped as I snapped the last and when I held out the shorts, he lifted one foot, then the other. As soon as the shorts were up, I fastened the snap, then got him into the light blue, short sleeved shirt that went with it.
"I don’t know if the jacket would fit you," I told him as I was slipping the belt through the loops, "but we can try it if you’d like. And, I’ll bet the bowtie would look great on you. Do you want to try it?"
"No!"
I thought about smacking him again, but was really trying to avoid it. The boy didn’t need a spanking, he needed some support and patience. Instead, I turned to Van, who had just finished dressing.
"Van, get a couple of extra story and activity books, please. We need to leave pretty soon, so you guys come on."
Saying that, I headed back towards the living room. Everybody had settled in front of the TV (even though it was the same thing they’d watched the day before), but they were dressed, ready, and waiting. I started getting everybody moving towards the van, when Van came in - by himself.
"I tried to stop him, Daddy. I told him not to."
I took a deep breath. Then I took another deep breath. Then I counted to 10. Backwards. In German. And Spanish. I reminded myself that he needed support and patience.
"You told him not to do what, Van?"
"He took off his clothes, Daddy,"the boy nervously whispered, as if he thought telling me about it would ataint him with the crime.
"Van. You’re not in trouble. Even if you hadn’t told him, it wouldn’t be your fault. What did he do?"
"He took off his clothes after you left."
I very calmly gave Bobby the keys to the van and had him take everyone on, so they could be on time for Bible Class. He and Charlie both knew what to do, for days when I was sick, or had to go in early or late. I’d just never expected an occasion like this.
After making sure the boys were on their way, I went back to Bryce and Van’s room, where Dex lay in the floor, busily coloring. That would have irritated me some, but he was wearing his overalls again.
"Do you want to explain to me what you’re doing?"
"I’m coloring," he said in an ‘isn’t it obvious’ tone of voice.
"Do you want to explain to me why you took your clothes off, and why you aren’t ready to go to church?"
He rolled back onto his elbow and gave me a look that let anyone know exactly how stupid he thought I was. "I told you I’m not going to ch…URCH!"
The last came as I picked him up from the floor by the back of his overalls. I didn’t try to hold him up by them, but only wanted him on his feet.
"Listen here, mister. We’ve already discussed that whole issue. I’m sorry if you don’t want to go to church, and we’ll have a lot of fun later, but right now, get those overalls off and get those other clothes on.
He crossed his arms again, puffed his lower lip out, and told me very plainly, "No."
I didn’t bother to respond verbally. Patience and support can be wonderful things, but I decided the time for them was past.
His overalls were only fastened with one strap and the buttons on his right hip were crooked (the bottom one was fastened into the top hole, leaving the other one undone). I ignored him as he tried to push my hands out of the way.
"Stop it," he said as I unfastened the side buttons. "Stop it!"
The side buttons went quick, so the last thing I had to worry about was the one strap he’d fastened. He tried to stop me, so I spun him around, pinned his hands at his side with one arm and undid the strap. They were loose enough that they started to fall as soon as it came undone, but I sped it along by grabbing him under the arms and lifting. He hadn’t bothered to put shoes back on, so when I lifted him, he was left in just his Sponge Bobs. I sat him down, picked up the overalls, folded them and placed them on the bed. Then I picked up the shorts again (which had been wadded and tossed onto it). I snapped them out and he said, "I’m not putting those on. I’m not going to church."
"Okay, that’s it. I’ve tried to respect you. I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to be easy-going and you just kept pushing. I think I know exactly what you need."
"I need my book. Just let me alone."
"I don’t think so. Come here."
He tried to move away from me, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him to me.
"What are you doing?"
I’d already changed my grip from his arm and wrapped my arm around his back and tucked it into his belly to pick him up and bend him forward. As soon as his feet came off the ground, I grabbed his undies with my other hand and began to work them down.
"What’re you doin’? You can’t take my undies off. Stop it!"
"What am I doing? I told you earlier that I hadn’t spanked you yet. I think it’s time I showed you what a real spanking is."
"No. I told you that you can’t spank me."
As soon as his undies were off, I sat him back on his feet, but kept a hold on him so he couldn’t try to run. Then I dropped into the spanking chair and pulled him around to make sure that he was looking in my eyes. Dex didn’t have any shyness at all, which isn’t unusual for someone who still needs help in the bath on a regular basis. He did seem a little uncomfortable being naked in front of me, but that might have been the threat of spanking, since his free hand was covering his bottom, not his little peter.
"And I told you that you don’t make the rules. Your mom makes the rules for you right now, and she told you that today, you’re going to follow my rules. I like you, Dex; but there are reasons that little boys aren’t in charge of things. I tried very hard to be fair to you, and I sure gave you more chances than I would have my boys, but enough’s enough."
He was still trying to pull away from me, but I gave him a jerk towards me, then shifted my hand to the small of his back and propelled him across my legs. He was obviously distraught as I rested my hand on his plump little bottom.
"Don’t spank me!" he demanded.
"I’m going to spank you, Dexter. I’m going to spank you because you didn’t mind, because you’ve argued with me every time I told you something, and because you need to learn who’s in charge. I’m not going to do it just to be mean, and not just because I want to burn your little bottom and make you cry, but because little boys have to obey the rules while they’re growing up so they can learn to stay out of trouble. Do you understand me?"
"No!"
"That’s a shame, but maybe you’ll figure it out later."
That was enough and more. I smacked my hand against his bottom and he yelped. I know his mom had spanked him before, but maybe he’d never felt a man’s large, rough hand slapping across his soft, little bare cheeks because he was quickly yelling hard and loud, not crying, but shrieking, high-pitched and shrilly. I smacked my hand right down on the center of those chubby cheeks, again and again. As my handprint went from white, to pink, then rosy to red, he went from yelling and shrieking to real crying. When the handprint was red, I moved and started circling around the edges. I was using just my fingers so as not to overlap too much, but his crying got louder and harder and as his entire bottom grew dark red, he finally broke into loud, hard crying.
Normally, I would sit him in my lap and give him a long hug, but he hadn’t acted like he would want it. Instead, I stood him on his feet. Tears were running down his face, as soon as his feet hit the ground, he began to dance and rub his bottom. He was quite cute that way, but his face was miserable. He was crying, dancing, and sniffing hard. I watched him for a minute, then held my arms out to him. He might have been mad at me, he might have had no respect for me, but at that moment, he wanted to be loved and comforted.
When Dex saw my opened arms, he stopped for a second, then threw himself into them. I held him tight and pushed his hands out of the way, so I could gently rub his bottom for him. He was still dancing from foot to foot in my hug, but, after a minute, his jittering started to slow and ease, and I picked him up and sat him in my lap.
Once Dex had settled down, I put him on his feet and, once again, made sure he was looking into my eyes.
"I want you to understand that I’m not trying to take your Dad’s place. You don’t have to like me, but you do have to show me some respect, and when you’re over here, especially when your mom tells you I’m in charge, you have to follow my rules. Now do you understand?"
I was trying to speak gently, but his thumb had made it’s way to his mouth while I lectured. At the question, he nodded and mumbled something around the thumb that I took to be agreement.
"Now, has Van ever told you how I spank him?"
He nodded again and moved his thumb a bit so I could understand him better. "With the bare cub," he said, pointing towards the spanky bear.
"We’re too late to go to Bible School this morning, so I’m going to let you make a decision. Do you want to get dressed so we can go to church, or do you want to stand in the corner and let your bottom cool off a bit, then I can show you what the bare cub feels like. Which do you want?"
"To get dressed," he said, sounding piteous and like he was about to start crying again.
"Are you sure? You don’t have to go to church if you don’t want to."
"I’m sure," he told me, sounding very enthusiastic about it now.
Dex went with the bowtie, and once we got his face cleaned up, he looked every bit as charming as his brother had. I knew it was a false front, but we can always hope for more.
Dex had more trouble sitting still in church than Gordy did, but I made allowances for him. That was the only misbehavior I had from him the rest of the day. I’m not going to say that he and I became friends after that. He’s too young to understand the difference between a man and woman being friends and being married, and he was scared to death I was going to try to take his father’s place. It was the last time he challenged me quite that directly. It wasn’t the last time I’ve needed to spank him, but was certainly the most memorable (well, maybe). Over time, as he’s become used to me being around (and as it’s become apparent his dad’s not coming back anytime soon), he’s become more open to me and has began to call me ‘Uncle Jack’, like his brother does. Turns out, he’s really a pretty good kid.
But he still has a very spankable little bottom.