Foster Forest (8): Rump Roast Barbeque

June had rolled smoothly into July, though there seemed to be some resistance from at least one resident of Foster Forest. Lizzie wasn't looking forward to the coming school year, especially considering that nobody had told her what was going to become of her. She'd assumed that Jackson would be sent to the private school that had expelled her, and that she would probably head straight for the nearest public school. While she didn't hate the idea of going to a "normal" school with "normal" students, there was a great deal of apprehension for the little girl, who worried that the minute another group of students sniffed her out as a foster child, she was going to be in trouble again. At least in a public school there was a good chance there would be no recess, and without recess she could (mostly) avoid being bullied.

Lizzie had been avoiding everybody, and Peter had been avoiding Lizzie. Becky and Jackson had spent the last two weeks together a lot, and there was a building undercurrent of irritation coming from the ten year-old little girl, who felt as though she'd been pushed out. She couldn't understand the feelings that were raging within her, or the reasons why Ms. Becky spent so much time with Jackson now, and not with her. If it bothered her, she was trying not to show it.

In the meantime, Jackson was soaking up the attention, and he was more than a little bit smug about it. Although he didn't say anything to Lizzie, and in fact rarely spoke to her at all, he did puff out his chest a little bit whenever he was near her. It didn't bother him that she might have heard his first spanking, and it was obvious that regardless of whether or not he should be humiliated by the experience, he still viewed himself as being "better" than she was. He'd managed to fly beneath the radar so far, so that the adults hadn't noticed what he was doing, or the hurt expression that was visible so often in Lizzie's eyes. And if they did, they thought the source was something else entirely.

Peter tried to be present for Lizzie, but she had given him the cold shoulder since the night that they'd cooked dinner together. Although he was hurt himself, he tried not to show it, or the fact that he felt entirely useless. Jackson was glued to Becky and Lizzie seemed to prefer to be by herself. Needless to say, Peter had plenty of time to paint, and he'd almost finished a large painting of the barn and pasture. Pastoral scenes were his favorite, and he was quite satisfied with the results. He even thought he might gift the painting to Becky, given how much she enjoyed his work. It was enough for him that she had one of his prints on display in the children's home.

It was finally the day that Peter had planned his barbeque. The children had been sent upstairs to take baths and clean up so that they were presentable, and he'd gathered all the food in the kitchen. He wasn't going to start cooking until everybody was present, and in spite of all of the tension in the house, Peter was whistling happily as he arranged things in the kitchen. "So," he said, turning to Becky once had had everything ready. He popped the top on a can of Coke and took a long swig. "What are you planning on doing about school. I think Lizzie's worried about it."

Becky sighed from where she was sitting at the table, wrapping ears of corn in foil so that they could be placed on the grill. "I don't know," she said, her voice soft. "I was thinking about hiring a private tutor to teach them. At least that would cut down on the bullying. With Jackie's weight and Lizzie's bookishness, it just seems like it might work out better. Then I don't have to worry about the pain of either of them getting in trouble at school again."

"You don't sound confident."

"I'm not." Becky shrugged her shoulders and set down the last ear of corn. "It's one more person that I have to bring on. I don't mind hiring somebody -- and paying them to do the job, since it cuts out the need for separate tuition for each of the children -- but it just seems like it might be too much pressure on everybody. And the kids need to get out of the house a bit. Away from here."

Peter shrugged. "Well then that's what field trips are for," he was saying, just when a scream resounded from upstairs, followed by the distinct sound of flesh meeting flesh in what was surely a slap.

"What now?" Becky asked, rolling her eyes as she pushed up out of her chair.

Peter sighed and went to follow her upstairs.

***

"You... You... You creep!" Lizzie squealed, clutching her towel in front of her. Although she hadn't yet reached puberty, she was still sensitive about her body, and beginning to feel the onset of the changes that it would go through. She hadn't thought to lock the bathroom door, since Ms. Becky didn't like locked doors and since nobody had ever walked in on her when she was in the shower before. She'd taken her time, since Jackie always had a bath, and the water got hot again very quickly, giving her the opportunity for a long shower if she wanted it. The little boy, on the other hand, didn't particularly enjoy taking baths, and he was in and out as quickly as he could get clean enough to pass Becky's inspection.

In spite of the tears that filled the little boy's eyes, Lizzie struck out a second time, slapping him hard across the face. "Get out!" she screamed, just as Becky charged through the door. Everything after that happened quickly. Becky pulled Jackson out of the bathroom by his arm, shutting the door behind her, and Lizzie could hear the sounds of the auburn-haired woman comforting the little boy outside the door. Peter's voice came through shouting to her, "Get dressed, Elizabeth, and meet me downstairs in the library."

"Crap," Lizzie muttered. The tears that hadn't come immediately came now that Jackson was gone from the room. The humiliation was intense, but worse than that there was a hint of fear. Even though the little boy was so young, she thought of the boys on the playground and the things that they had tried to do to her, and Elizabeth shuddered visibly, though there was nobody there to see her do it. A sob caught in the girl's throat as she quickly toweled off and then grabbed her clothes, putting all of them on. She knew the rules -- the children weren't allowed to be violent toward one another in any way, and she'd slapped Jackson not once, but twice. Certain that she was in trouble, Lizzie questioned why she was even bothering to put her panties on.

By the time she stepped through the door to the library, Lizzie was sobbing hard. The anticipation had knotted her stomach up so much that she felt she'd be sick, though she hadn't had very much to eat that day. Lunch had been light, in observance of the festivities that had been planned for that evening, and there simply wasn't anything in her stomach to bring up. It took all the courage the ten year-old had to slowly approach Peter and stand in front of him. She was trembling visibly, clearly scared of what his reaction was going to be. Wanting something to do with her hands, she shoved them deeply into her pockets. Her eyes darted to the side, noting that his paddle was sitting on the little end table. A little whimper fought it's way up her throat and out of her mouth to be heard, and she felt as though her bladder was quite weak.

Lizzie jerked when she felt a hand on hers. She pulled her hand back in shocked surprise. She wasn't ready! He hadn't spoken a word to her, he hadn't gotten her side of the story! She wasn't ready! He couldn't spank her unless he knew what had happened. It just wasn't fair! Lizzie whimpered again and shook her head vigorously back and forth. She was sure that Peter was speaking, but she hadn't heard a word he'd said.

"Elizabeth." She heard his voice, heard her name. "Listen to me."

Lizzie took a deep breath, sucking it in and then nodding her head as his hand caught hers again. Her palms were wet with sweat and they were cold. His own hand felt comparatively warm and smooth. "Okay," she whispered. "Yes sir."

"I want to know what happened up there. I know you slapped Jackson. He told us when he came out of the bathroom and we both heard it all the way down here. But I want to know what happened before that. Why was he in the bathroom with you?"

Lizzie shook her head from one side to the other. She could tell that Peter was calm and she wondered how he'd gotten that way. He seemed to act on temper so often. Maybe it was the time that it had taken her to get dressed, and to make sure that she wasn't going to throw up all over herself. She wasn't trying to frustrate Peter, or make him angrier, but the truth was that she was very scared, and her fear went far beyond the fear of the paddle that he'd brought with him. She didn't know the answer to Peter's question, and it was that lack of understanding that bothered her the most. "Uh-I don't know," she said, her voice breaking and rising slightly as she tried to choke back the sob that was bubbling up in her belly.

The gentle tug on Lizzie's hand caught her off guard, and she gasped, thinking that Peter was about to simply tumble her over his lap and begin the process of spanking her until she was a mass of pain and tears. Her brown eyes looked up and met the sparkling blue of his own, and she was surprised to see what she thought was sympathy reflected in the glowing orbs. Following his gesture by suggestion, she awkwardly and nervously climbed into his lap and allowed herself to be pulled against his shoulder. She was constantly aware of where his hands were, watching them closely, but he simply rubbed her back and brushed the hair out of her face. It was the first time she could remember Peter really being kind to her, though it was a moment she desperately needed it.

For nearly three minutes Lizzie just sobbed against Peter's shoulder until she was finally calm. Everything she'd feared, and expected from him, had been just anxiety, paranoia. He didn't touch her painfully, he didn't force her. If she hadn't wanted to sit down with him, she could have pulled away. Now she was certain of that. And she did, sitting up in his lap and wiping at her face with the palms of her hands, scrubbing at her eyes and cheeks to get the last of the tears abolished. "I'm sorry I slapped Jackson," she whispered, her voice very, very low. Everyone knew that Lizzie didn't like to apologize, and the fact that she said something without prompting indicated that she really did mean what she was saying. "We're not supposed to hit each other, so I know I'm going to get a spanking. Which is kind of like hitting," she pointed out, her voice sounding hopeful.

Peter smiled softly and shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he said, his voice soft and slightly sad. "We spank you -- and Jackson -- because your behavior needs to make a change. It's because we care enough about you to make sure that when you're doing something you shouldn't, that stops. It ends right here. I know you understand, Lizzie," he said, his voice gentle, his own blue eyes hopeful. "I know you understand because you're a smart girl. Come on. Let's stand you up so you can get your panties down and we can take care of getting this spanking out of the way."

Sniffling, Lizzie slipped out of Peter's lap. She didn't think she could possibly shed another tear, but as she realized what was about to happen, the tears did begin to flow again. Slowly, and with a great deal of regret, the ten year old reached up under her skirt and slowly lowered her panties. After a moment of pause she went ahead and slipped right out of them. She was wearing a knee-length skirt and if Peter was kind, he might not make her put them back on after all was said and done. She took a deep, shuddering breath and then looked at Peter. The other times they'd done this, he'd been rough. He'd jerked her over his lap or the arm of the chair so quickly that she hadn't had time to react, and he'd yanked her panties and jeans down for her. Thankfully most of her jeans were elastic in the waist and therefore there were no buttons to mess around with. That would have been awkward.

Lizzie couldn't imagine why she was thinking all of these thoughts, though her mind was racing to prevent her from having to think of her impending doom. Her skin crawled slightly when Peter put his left hand on her shoulder and his right hand on her lower back. He had moved forward in the arm chair so that although he was still sitting, he had plenty of room to fit her across his lap, and to secure her if it became necessary for him to do so. And with that paddle of his, it almost always became necessary to do so. "Come on, Elizabeth," Peter said. "Let's get you over my lap so that we can get this over with and go out to the barbeque."

It took a moment for Lizzie to register that the special treat they'd planned was still going to happen, and she almost smiled before Peter began to put the pressure on her, and she stumbled slightly. She caught herself before she could simply tumble over Peter's lap, and he guided her gently into position, her hips high up over the middle of his lap, providing her bottom as a perfect target for his hand and the paddle. Lizzie caught her breath in her throat before she could let out an audible cry, and she let her fingers brush the carpet. There was no leverage, no rungs on the chair and she couldn't quite reach the floor. Her feet hung out behind her, kicking against the air. She felt insecure and suddenly more frightened than she could remember from the other spankings, when she hadn't had any time at all to consider the situation she was in before it started.

Now he was folding her skirt up over her back, and she felt the breeze from the air conditioner fan blow across her trembling buttocks and slim hips. Whimpering, the little girl tried to turn her head to see what Peter was doing next, but she didn't have time to crane her neck far enough. He had begun the spanking.

It was slow and deliberate this time, and just as silent as it always was with Peter. The paddle came down very hard on her left side, right where her bottom and thighs met. Lizzie let out a gasp of breath as the sting began to affect her. The deeper burn of such a paddle hadn't set in yet; it was that burn that would set Lizzie to really crying in both pain and very real remorse. For now there was just pain, and Lizzie's first reaction was to swing her hand back as though to cover her bottom. She stopped herself before she got all the way there, however, letting out a thin cry of sorrow. She knew she'd done wrong this time, and there was no way for her to convince herself she didn't deserve the spanking she was getting.

The spanking continued in the same slow and deliberate manner. Peter would spank one side, the paddle coming down seemingly very hard, and right in that sensitive place where Lizzie's bottom and thighs met. It was one of the most sensitive spankable parts of Lizzie's body, and her legs were quickly thrashing out behind her, scissoring as she struggled to get away from the pain. It was all the resolve that she had to keep her hand back. She had already lost the battle not to cry, and now her hand finally got the better of her, flying back to try to cover her flaming and throbbing rear end. It was grabbed skillfully by Peter and pinned to her lower back, though he allowed her to continue to kick her legs, rather than stopping to restrain them.

Still there were no words, and Elizabeth was becoming tired. She was sobbing hard, her bottom was a flaming mass of pain, and her body was shaking as she finally gave up the fight and just lay across Peter's lap, sobbing as though her heart would break. After nearly a minute, he let go of her right hand, which he had pinned to her back, and she lowered it, giving a little groan as the shoulder joint let her know it was stiff. Another moment later he was lightening up on his grip on her, and then his hand was on her shoulder and helping her to stand to her feet.

The skirt fell down over Lizzie's bottom, and she winced. When Peter went to pick up her panties, she closed her eyes and gave a small shake of her head, but stepped into them when he held them out for her, and then she pulled them up again under her skirt. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and then there was a long moment of awkwardness. Should she reach out to him? Was it okay to hug Peter? She'd just been sitting in his lap for a while, but she wasn't sure what to expect now.

When Peter stood up and draped his arm heavily over her shoulder, gently guiding her toward the door, Lizzie left it at that, at least satisfied with the physical contact that she got from him. She wasn't looking forward to seeing Becky, and could only hope that the two adults weren't going to "trade off kids."

***

In the meantime, a similar scene was playing out in the kitchen. Becky had whisked Jackson off as soon as she'd gotten him out of the bathroom. Her first emotion had been sympathy. She understood the humiliation of being slapped in the face, and Lizzie had broken a very serious rule: No hitting. Becky knew Lizzie was aware of the rule and she trusted Peter to deal harshly with the little girl as a result of her breaking it. She felt bad for Jackson, because he was still so new at the Forest. And she knew from his file that he was accustomed to being poked, prodded and generally made fun of. She couldn't imagine being Jackson and she wouldn't want to be in his shoes. Chubby little boys didn't tend to do so well in school. She could remember that much from her own early childhood. Already she had decided to get him a good workout with the horses, or maybe encourage him to run around outside more, though for the time being he had mostly wanted to hang out in the house and watch television. She'd already taken away the video games.

Now the chubby little boy was standing in front of Becky in the kitchen, crying. She'd begun to grow accustomed to seeing and hearing him cry, and the longer it went on, the more she became annoyed with it. It seemed to Becky that little boys just weren't supposed to cry that much. She understood that Lizzie had slapped him in the face. She could see the red mark. And she also understood that such a slap in the face was painful and humiliating for anybody, but perhaps most of all for a boy. The irritation had her on edge, her hands clutching her thighs tightly as he stood in front of her.

"Jackson, for goodness sake, stop with the tears!" Becky said, not without sympathy. Her voice wasn't hard, but it held the fact that she couldn't talk to him until he got control of himself. The crying had to stop, or nothing she said was going to get through to the little boy, and she needed to know what on earth he'd been in the bathroom for. There were two floors, one of the boys and another for the girls, and each one of them had their own bathrooms. There were no excuses for him to be in with Elizabeth, though Becky was half expecting to hear that he'd been invited in there. She was not happy with the way that Lizzie had been behaving since Peter had shown up, and she was frustrated that Lizzie and Jackie weren't interacting with one another at all.

After what seemed like forever (about five minutes) Jackie had finally calmed down enough for Becky to speak and know she was being heard. "Jackie," she said, her voice level. "I'm sorry that Lizzie hit you. She's being dealt with right now. Mr. Peter is having a talk with her about breaking a rule she's very aware of. But you and I need to talk because I need to know what you were doing in the bathroom on the girls' floor. That's against the rules too. So why were you in there?"

The little boy shifted from one foot to the other. On observation, Becky had the realization that he hadn't thought this far ahead. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, and she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and sighing heavily in disappointment. She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. The headache that was brewing seemed to be the first one in a long time. "Jackson Theodore Seeber, I want an answer. Right now. Why were you in the girls' bathroom?"

"Um..." the little boy said. He began to chew on his lower lip, and now his hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his blue jeans. Becky glanced over at the hairbrush she'd run to fetch from her apartment and bring into the kitchen, and she wondered briefly if Jackson had any idea what its intended use was. She'd already decided how this conversation was going to end, it was just a matter now of how hard that ending was going to be, for both of them, and knowing Jackson's tearful tendencies, for the other two as well.

"Alright," Becky said, after having given him what she felt was sufficient time to answer. "I'm going to have to assume that you were in the girls' bathroom to irritate Lizzie. There was no other reason for you to be in there, whatsoever. You were already fully dressed, and so you weren't looking for a towel. Your things are all in the boys' bathroom, so you weren't in there looking for your comb." Which he badly needed, Becky noted. Maybe when she was done using the hairbrush on his hind end she would use it in the manner it was intended.

The little boy scowled, and he looked like he was ready to make some kind of a protestation. Both of Becky's eyebrows raised, and she made a gesture that indicated she was willing to hear a better explanation. When, after a moment of what appeared to be intense thought on Jackson's part, there appeared to be no answer, Becky decided that the matter was done. Unless he had been about to have an accident on the way down the stairs (and she was sure he would have told her if that was the case), there was no reason for him to be in that bathroom while Lizzie was in the shower. Unless Jackson had some darker reason for being in the bathroom, his purpose was to irritate the little girl, and Becky had a sinking feeling he felt that he could do so and get away with it. That meant she was going to have to have a talk with Lizzie, or at least try to smooth things over with the ten year old. Rearing more than one child at a time was hard work, and Becky was realizing that too late to change her mind, especially considering that the process had already begun for another youngster.

Becky took a slow, deep breath, trying to push the headache aside. It would be another few minutes before she could go and get some aspirin and she didn't expect a seven year-old boy to understand why she needed to get up in the middle of an impending punishment. Just like the last time, he didn't seem nervous at all, and Becky wondered if he knew that he was in any kind of trouble. In fact, he didn't seem to quite comprehend until her hands were on the button of his jeans, undoing it and tugging the zipper down.

His hands quickly went to hers, and the tears started right up again. She wasn't sure now whether or not they were earnest, but she had little sympathy. She'd been listening to Jackson Seeber cry for the past ten minutes, and she'd already had enough of it. "Jackson Theodore Seeber, you knew you broke the rules when you did it, but you didn't think that you were going to get in trouble, did you?" she asked, her voice stern as she pushed the little boy's jeans down to his knees.

"S'not fair!" the little boy sniffled as he shifted from one foot to the other anxiously, almost as though he thought he could work his jeans back up by doing so. But before he could even consider putting his hands down to yank them back up, Becky was at work sliding his briefs down after his jeans, settling those, too, down at his knees. "I don' wanna getta spankin'!" Jackie cried, stomping his foot. "She's one who hit me, member?" he said, pouting, with anger in his voice.

"I remember," Becky said seriously. "And I know that must have hurt and made you feel very bad," she said. "Just like it made Lizzie feel bad when she found out that you were in the bathroom while she was taking a shower. Now she's had to pay for her mistake and you're going to pay for yours, too."

"But she already hit me!"

Becky recognized a stalling tactic when she saw it, and although she already cared a great deal for Jackson, just as she cared a great deal for Lizzie, she thought that Jackson needed to learn how to handle things better, and more effectively. Especially as a boy he was likely to run into problems if he didn't learn to handle his problems without tears. She could already see future residents pushing him around if he didn't get a handle on his emotions, and her mind briefly went to Lizzie. Becky sighed softly and looked directly into Jackson's blue eyes. "Lizzie reacted because you scared her and upset her. I'm not upset. I'm not angry. But I do need to give you a spanking so that you won't do this again. You broke the rules, and I need to make sure that you don't do that again, or keep doing it." She paused briefly. "I know that you don't understand right now, but eventually you will. And if I ever catch you in the girls' bathroom again, the consequences are going to be very severe. I hope you understand that much."

She made it a statement and not a question because she didn't want to get the whining and the stalling started again. It was time for Becky to punish Jackson, and make sure that his chubby bottom took the consequences for what he had done to Lizzie just as her slender one had taken the consequences of slapping Jackson.

Becky took a deep breath and put her hands on Jackson's shoulders, gently guiding him over to her side. He hobbled slightly with his jeans and briefs around his knees, and it took a bit longer to get there. Finally she was able to help him up and over her lap, lifting him carefully, if a bit awkwardly, so that he was squarely across her lap. She shifted slightly, mindful of his comfort, and carefully situated him so that she could effectively pin him down without doing any real damage. Reaching across her body, she picked up her hairbrush and then patted it gently against his bottom. "You remember the last spanking, Jackson Theodor Seeber. This is really going to hurt, and I'm not going to stop until I'm sure that we won't be doing this again, at least not soon. So if you want to grab hold of the rungs of that chair, you go ahead and do that. You can kick your legs and cry and scream all you want, but I'm not going to stop until I think you're done," she added, feeling that it was important for Jackson to understand that his tears would have no effect on her at this point in time.

Becky waited for a moment while the child situated himself more comfortably and let out a little whining sob. She'd known that it was coming, but even so it almost seemed as though the child's attitude fueled within her the knowledge that she needed to do this, however bad it made her feet. With a stern expression on her face, Becky gave the little boy's chubby bottom another couple of hard taps, which elicited a squeal from the little boy. "Jackson, I haven't even begun," Becky scolded, then raised the hairbrush and brought it down hard and squarely across his bottom so that it bridged both cheeks.

Then she set about the spanking in earnest, spanking first one cheek, then the other, back and forth, both hard and fast. She had to make an impression this time that it was not okay for Jackson to go into the girls' bathroom, but more than that he needed to understand that he wasn't going to get away with anything here on her watch. He wasn't better, or more loved than Lizzie. They had equal standing at Foster Forest, regardless of what Jackson Theodore Seeber might think.

The spanking went on briskly and hard. The thick legs of the little boy kicked out behind him, and the sounds of blubbering and bawling coming from him embarrassed the young woman who was administering the spanking. It occurred to her that she was embarrassed for Jackson because he didn't know how to be embarrassed for himself. He begged and he pleaded, and Becky knew that he heard not a word of her lecture as she dished it out.

"You are not to go into the girls' bathrooms for any reason, Jackson Theodore Seeber. Not ever!" Becky said, punctuating each word with a hard smack of the hairbrush to his upturned bottom. Every now and again when he kicked she would smack his thigh for emphasis of what she was trying to make him understand. "You upset and frightened Lizzie and it doesn't matter that she slapped you. I'm not dealing with her, I'm dealing with you. And when you see her, you are going to apologize? Aren't you?" The last two words were the end of the lecture, and Becky  lay another dozen hard spanks directly to the little boy's sit spots. When she was finished, his bottom was a flaming red, and she could feel the heat radiating off of it. He hadn't completely surrendered to the spanking, but then she hadn't expected that from him. The seven year-old was still blubbering over her lap when she was finished, and Becky let him stay there for another several minutes before she helped him up, easing him off her lap and then into it, upright.

The little boy winced as his raw bottom came into contact with Becky's thigh. She wasn't surprised that she could actually feel the heat through the fabric of her skirt, and she gave a small, soft smile as she gently pulled him to her chest and smoothed his hair, then picked up the brush and began to work on it. It never would quite lay flat, but at least it could look a bit more presentable. When she was finished, she smoothed it over with her fingers, and by the time that was done Jackson was only hiccuping in her lap.

Becky drew back and turned her head so that she could look the child in his blue eyes. "Now," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "That's over. I hope you don't ever go into that bathroom again and bother Lizzie, and I hope that both of you have learned your lessons now."

A sound behind her drew Becky's attention, and Peter entered with his arm around Lizzie's shoulders. Becky smiled toward the little girl and reached her arm out. The ten year-old hesitated, and Becky sighed. There was almost no way that Lizzie was going to come to her with Jackson in her lap, and there was no way that she could oust Jackson so that she could provide comfort to Lizzie. They weren't siblings, and she couldn't expect them to act like friends after everything they'd been through.

"Okay," Becky said after a few moments. "Why don't you two help us to get the food outside so that we can start this barbeque already. I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving!" she grinned at both of them, then reached out to ruffle Jackson's hair, bending afterward to kiss Lizzie on the cheek. It wasn't everything, but it was a start toward restoring their relationship, and at least she wasn't shying away from Peter any more, at least for the time being.

The adults stood back as Lizzie loaded her arms full of food and Jackson grabbed the bag of marshmallows and the hot dogs. Becky glanced at Peter and they shared a smile as the two children scrambled outside with their arms full, and then they followed them outside. It would be a nice treat for the children, and maybe the little quartet could share some quality time together for a change. If only Lizzie would relax and Jackson would stop crying at the drop of a hat, they might almost resemble a real family....