Foster Forest (9): Understandings

Jackie Seeber sat on the couch, his legs crossed Indian-style under him. His elbows rested on his knees, which meant that he had to lean forward a little bit. He felt uncomfortable, the fleshy belly pressed between his chest and his legs. He didn't move, nor did he take his eyes off the floor. Nothing made sense any more, and the tears poured down Jackson's cheeks in rivulets while he waited for Ms. Becky to show up and yell at him.

This was all so confusing. The television was off, and if he tried to turn it on, all he would get was a blue screen with some writing on it. Since Jackson didn't read yet, he didn't know what he had to do to make the television work, and he was afraid to ask Ms. Becky. It seemed like lately she yelled every time she saw him. "Tuck your shirt in! No, you may not have dessert! Where are you going? Outside! Play!"

Jackson spent a lot of his time crying. He was bored. There was nothing for him to do, and the entire place was so utterly unfamiliar to him. Why couldn't he watch TV? What was wrong with eating dessert? So what if his shirt was untucked? What was it about Jackson Seeber that offended everybody so? He just didn't understand.

In as long as he had been at Foster Forest (at that point about two weeks), he had only been told to go and wait twice. The first time he'd felt blindsided by the spanking that Becky had given him. His parents, in all the years he'd lived with them, had given him three or four spankings, none of which had hurt nearly as much as the redhaired woman smacking his bottom with that heavy wooden hairbrush. Never in his life had he felt anything so horrible, and the memory left him frightened as he sat tucked up in the corner of the couch. There was no doubt in his seven year-old mind that he was about to get his bottom spanked again, but he didn't understand.

Jackson was so confused and so lonely that when he heard the sound of someone entering the room, he shot off the couch so that he could rush to Becky and throw his arms around her. His heart was beating too quickly and his limbs felt weak. There was a pressure in his chest that he couldn't explain, and then the sinking feeling when he realized that it wasn't Becky, but Lizzie who had entered the Great Room.

As usual, the ten year-old had a book tucked up under her arm, but it didn't look as though she was just passing through. Jackson had learned that Lizzie usually seemed to prefer to read in the small private library in the home, but now she seemed to be settling into one of the chairs near the cold fireplace. Jackie crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Lizzie, but she made no move to go away. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't think of anything witty to say, so instead he went back to curl up in the corner of the couch again to wait for Ms. Becky.

Just when Jackie was beginning to think that she was never going to show up, Lizzie spoke. "You're going to get a spanking," she said without looking up from her book.

Jackson didn't bother to wipe at his tears. Nobody had ever been there to teach him that little boys don't cry as freely as little girls, or that it was a shame to him that he should allow his companion to see that he was crying. Instead he pulled his knees up to his chest. His foot slipped off the edge of the couch, and he couldn't wrap his arms around his knees because of the excess weight he was carrying. In frustration, the seven year-old kicked his foot against the base of the sofa.

It was none of her business whether or not he was going to get a spanking! Jackson couldn't help but stare at the little brown-haired girl who was seemingly absorbed in her Harry Potter book. For only a flash Jackie wished that he had already learned to read, so that he could pick up a book and read with her. Or even better, that Lizzie liked him well enough to read to him, out loud. The one time he asked Ms. Becky she'd told him that she was busy and said to ask later on. He never had. In truth, Jackie was sure that he was in the way of everything, messing everything up and making the other residents unhappy. Just in the last few days he had stopped trying. There was no point in trying to please somebody who didn't want to be pleased.

"She has the hairbrush," Lizzie said without looking up from her book.

Jackson felt the heat rush to his face and his eyes stung with fresh tears. His cheeks were already moist and now, for his own comfort, he rubbed his fingers under his eyes to make the wet marks go away. "But why?" Jackson asked, feeling confused and frustrated. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, even if he did accept that the spanking was inevitable. Grown ups only got that look in their eyes when they were upset, even angry. Jackson was quite certain that Becky was very angry, but he didn't understand why.

It was obvious that Lizzie wasn't answering, or that she wasn't going to answer until she was good and ready. Hurt, the little boy turned his head downward and stared at the carpeting in front of his feet. He kicked his legs and banged them against the couch again, hard enough to make his heels hurt. None of this made sense to Jackson! What had he done wrong?

"Maybe it's just because you're a fat pig crybaby..." Lizzie said from her seat. When Jackie looked up he could see that the little girl was staring at him now, and intent expression on her face. "Maybe it's because you don't do the really simple stuff that they tell you to do, and then you think that you're just going to get away with it. Or maybe it's because you never stop crying!"

Jackson didn't know what he heard in the little girl's voice, but her words hit him like a punch in the (ample) gut. He blinked at her stupidly several times, his head shaking back and forth seemingly of its own accord. "Aunt Ninny let me... She never yelled at me," Jackie sniffled. "I wanna go home."

"Yeah?" Lizzie snapped. "Well there's nobody at home who wants you there, so you've got to suck it up here like the rest of us. Think I want to be here? Guess again," she said. The little girl snapped her book shut and stalked off out of the room just as Becky appeared from the hallway where her office was.

Becky's cheeks were slightly flushed, but her eyes were bright. Jackson was about to relax when he caught sight of the hairbrush in the young red-haired woman's hand. His stomach rolled and he clenched his fat little hands into fists in his lap. He felt the tears welling up in his eyes, and then the chill on his face as they spilled over and tumbled down his cheeks. The fists stayed where they were, and he didn't make a move toward the woman, nor away from her. A dull ache in his heart made him realize that he hoped she'd come to him, pick him up in her lap and explain everything that was going on, where his parents were, when they were coming back, or maybe tell him when he could go back to his aunt's house.

Jackson opened his mouth, but before a sound could come out, Becky grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the seat. Her grip was slightly too tight, and Jackie let out a short howl of pain as he jerked his arm out of her hand and began to rub it furiously with his other hand. "I hate you!" he exclaimed, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. All of the questions he wanted to ask, everything he wanted to know was lost in that immediate feeling of intense, hot hatred. He didn't know how to ask what was going on, what was wrong, why he was going to be spanked. And suddenly he didn't care why. There didn't seem to be any rhyme nor reason to it anyway; they just spanked when they felt that they should, and it didn't matter if he'd done anything to deserve it.

"That's fine," the young red-haired woman said as she dropped down onto the couch, right in the middle. She reached for his hand, but Jackson yanked it away from her again. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes and he glared at her, meeting her green eyed gaze and trying hard to match her intensity. After only a moment, however, he could no longer hold the gaze and he dropped his eyes as Becky continued to speak. "You can hate me all you want, Jackson Seeber, but you have to follow my rules, young man. Whatever your aunt let you do when you lived with her, you're living here now, and I, for one, am concerned about your health. You're overweight and you eat junk every time you can get your hands on it. I've done my best to keep you out of the kitchen, but to catch you in there today... I'm only glad that Lizzie let me know you had your head stuck in the refrigerator! Obviously I need to watch you every moment!"

Jackie's bladder felt weak, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Why was she yelling at him again? All he wanted was to go home where things were familiar and where he understood the rules. She'd explained them to him twice now, but it wasn't his fault that he continually forgot what she said! He'd spent months getting used to one set of rules, only to go home to his parents and have no rules at all. Then he wound up here, and Ms. Becky was strict!

"You don't gotta!" he cried, rubbing his arm harder. "I wan'ned somethin' to eat! I was hungry!" Jackson said. He bit down on his lower lip as the tears ran into his mouth. His nose had begun to run, and he wiped it quickly on the back of his hand, then swiped the snot on his pants. He was shaking slightly when he met her gaze again and then quickly glanced away.

Before Jackie could say another word, Becky's hands were on the button of his jeans, sliding it out of its hole and then lowering the zipper. She was talking and talking, but he couldn't understand or hear a word she said. He was so nervous about what was happening, and he couldn't stop thinking about how much the previous spanking had hurt. His eyes fell on the hairbrush, and Jackson let out a long wail of fear. "But I'll be good!" he said, choking on the snot that had gotten caught in his throat. "I'm tryin'!

"Well," Becky said, pausing with her fingers in the waistband of his briefs. "How hard is it to wait for meals instead of simply going into the refrigerator whenever you want?" she asked.

Jackson stomped his foot, hard, against the floor. He'd been sitting on the edge of a tantrum for nearly an hour now, before he ate, and then after Becky sent him into the Great Room to wait for her. He didn't understand why they couldn't do this somewhere else, if they had to do it at all, and more than that he didn't understand what was so wrong about going to get food when he was hungry. "I'm hungry!" he said, by way of an explanation. What was so hard to understand?

"You're hungry," Becky said. He recognized the tone in her voice, the dangerous tone that was almost poking fun at him. Jackson felt his cheeks become hot, and he tried to take a step back but the young woman gave a tug at his briefs, pulling him back and then lowering them to his knees along with his jeans. She was so businesslike about the whole thing that Jackson had a sinking feeling in his stomach that she didn't care at all how much this spanking was going to hurt, or how much he didn't understand.

"You are fed six times a day," Becky said sharply. She slapped at the back of his right thigh hard enough to make him cry out in pain. He looked at her, feeling his eyes welling up with fresh tears.

Of course Becky was right. There were the three big meals every day, and she also gave him and Lizzie snacks between meals. It amounted to six times every day. But he wasn't allowed second helpings, and whenever he asked for food between meals he was told "no" unless it was right at snack time. The food was so controlled, and he felt as though he wasn't allowed to do anything without asking somebody else first. It was so different from at his aunt's!

"One last time," Becky said, putting her hands on Jackson's shoulders. He turned automatically toward her and met her eyes. His knees felt weak and he worried that he was going to have an accident right there on the Great Room carpet!

"One last time," she repeated. "You aren't to just go to the fridge and eat whatever you want to, whenever you want to," she said. "I will make sure that you get enough to eat, but you need to lose weight. The doctor said that he was worried you would wind up with juvenile diabetes if we didn't do something quickly. I don't suppose you want to stick yourself with needles every day, do you?" she asked. Her voice was sharp and cold, and Jackson felt a sob bubbling up in his chest as he shook his head.

"Good," Becky said. "Then maybe getting a spanking now will make sure that we don't have to stick you every day in the future. You are given plenty to eat, and eventually you won't be hungry all the time either," she added. "You'd feel better if you'd go outside and play and actually do something rather than sitting on the couch and staring forlornly at the television all the time. You can watch on the weekends, those are the rules, aren't they?"

But before Jackson could answer, she was moving him beside her. Confused, he pulled back a little bit. She wasn't pulling him over her lap the way that he'd expected. Instead she was tugging on his hand as though..." Lay down next to me, with your body on the seat of the couch. I can reach you just fine from there and I won't have to worry about you rolling off my lap."

Jackie had no idea what Becky was talking about, but he slowly complied, laying his upper body against the couch. He sank down slightly into the cushions, and his thick hands automatically went to clutch the back of the cushion beneath him, seeking something to hold onto and something to comfort him even before the spanking began. The lack of contact with the spanker (in this case, Ms. Becky) surprised Jackson and he would realize later, when he was older, that it hurt his feelings as well. Though he would also understand, when he was older, that his weight and size had made it difficult for Becky to keep him on her lap in those early days.

The position somehow made Jackson feel as though he was even more exposed, his bottom stuck straight out and nothing blocking him from view if some hapless social worker were to walk into the building. Worse, what if Mr. Peter or Lizzie saw him like this? Jackson felt his entire body grow warm at the thought, but a moment later it was only the heat in his posterior region that he could think about!

The spanking started without Becky saying a single word. Like the previous occasion, Jackson was shocked by the intense stinging pain of the hairbrush as it landed for a second time, making a noise like a sharp crack across his backside. His head jerked back in pained surprise, and he let out a howl. The boy's right hand flew back as though to cover his backside, but in this position he found it difficult to reach. He couldn't kick his legs since they were balancing him on the seat, and instead he started to wiggle, trying to push his way off the couch so that he could cover his backside.

The pressure on his back told Jackson that Becky had him effectively pinned down, and he let out another long cry. His throat felt tight, and his body was beginning to tremble. He knew that she was speaking to him, but he couldn't make out the words that were being spoken at all. His head was wrapped up entirely in trying to cope with the pain, the flames that were being ignited in his backside. He squirmed, trying as hard as he could to wiggle out of her grasp. He'd done it once before, and maybe he could do it again!

A quick, sharp sting to each of his thighs had Jackson scrambling back up onto the couch, instinct kicking in. He buried his face in the cushion and sobbed. He was choking and coughing with the effort of crying, his fat little hands digging into the cushion as he soaked it with his tears. At some point it began to feel as though the spanking was never ending, and he could no longer feel the difference between one spank and the next. His entire world evaporated into pain and tears, his sobs ripping through him and making him shudder.

He didn't even know that it had ended when he felt hands on his shoulders. He rolled over, allowing himself to be moved, and then slowly sank forward and off the couch until he was on his knees, both hands covering his buttocks and rubbing fiercely as he sobbed. He didn't care that Becky was leaning forward over him, or that she was brushing the hair back out of his face with great gentleness. His first instinct was to jerk away from her, and he did, scrambling out of her reach and continuing to rub. He was hampered by his jeans and briefs, and he stumbled a little bit before pushing himself up and onto his feet. He struggled with his underpants, pulling them up over his sore bottom and giving a little cry of pain. He didn't look up at Ms. Becky, but reached down and yanked up his jeans as well. Then, when he'd finished, he put his hands on his bottom, not sure where to go or what he was supposed to do, but he was fairly certain he wasn't allowed to just leave the room.

"Jackie..." Becky said.

Her voice was soft enough that Jackie didn't feel threatened by it, but he raised his eyes to look at her, searching her face for a moment. Then, before he could think about what he was doing, he flew into her arms. He bit back the confused frustration he felt when the young women carefully and gently guided him onto the couch next to her, but settled in quickly when she pulled him to her chest and began to stroke his hair again. He whimpered, but when she shushed him, Jackie raised a hand and brushed at the tears on his cheeks, pressing his face against her shoulder and wrapping his free arm (the one that wasn't pinned between them) around her, holding tightly to the young woman who was caring for him so kindly now.

"Jackie," Becky whispered.

The seven year-old opened his eyes and looked up at the pretty red haired lady. She was still speaking, and he focused on her words, forcing himself out of his safe place to hear her.

"Jackson, I know that things were different with your aunt, but you aren't there now. I'm sorry that I had to spank you, but you need to stay out of the refrigerator or the doctor is worried that we're going to have to stick you with needles every day. I promise you that it gets better, but you need to learn how to eat better."

Jackson didn't understand. What was wrong with eating any time he wanted to? But what he did understand now, much better than before, was that Becky was serious about what she'd said to him. More than that, he understood now that if he went into the fridge again without her permission, he was going to wind up being bent over with the hairbrush applied to his backside again.

"'Kay," Jackie whispered. He closed his eyes and let his head roll back against Becky's breast while she rocked him. It felt good, and before he could stop it from happening, Jackie Seeber fell asleep against Becky's chest.

The last words he heard before he began to dream were "Elizabeth Moore, I know that you're there and I'll deal with you in a moment." Then he fell deeply asleep and would remain resting on the couch until Peter came to wake him up for supper.