"Alright darling" said Victoria "How about we have some fun with Giles?"
"What do you mean?" asked Alison.
"How would you like to see him really squirm?" asked Victoria, holding Alison in front of her and looking her in the eye.
Alison nodded, brightening up again "How?"
"You leave that to me. All you have to do is walk up to him, I'll come with you, and take your cue from me. You won't have to apologise, but do say something like 'Hello Giles, there's something I wanted to tell you' just so that if your mum or anyone's watching they'll think your apologising" said Victoria.
"Okay" said Alison sceptically.
"Afterwards, if anyone asks, tell them you apologised" said Victoria.
"What if Giles says I didn't" asked Alison growing scared.
"He's not going to remember darling, and I'm going to be your witness" said Victoria "Now, let's strike while the iron's hot, and see how Giles likes to be scared and uncomfortable shall we?"
"Okay" said Alison, brightening up further.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Giles was stood by the open French windows, looking out into the garden and wondering if he could risk getting someone else into trouble. He was aware that he had to be careful not to overdo it. He watched Emily particularly. He'd just love to see her naked and spanked, and since Mrs Weaver was already cross she might just deal with Emily that way; if he could come up with something convincingly bad. The risk was that Paul and Victoria would leap to her defence and somehow get her off, like they'd done with the Ben. Giles frowned.
He checked out other candidates. There were some other pretty girls here, and he started to make calculations: who spanked and who didn't; who might spank in public, and what severity of crime might be required to bring that vengeance down on the girl.
For the second time this afternoon, he didn't see Alison approach, and when his gaze swept round and he caught sight of her right next to him, he jumped. Her puffed up, tear stained face looked defiant and angry, but she didn't look like she was about to point a finger and shout 'rapist'. He relaxed a little, but only for a moment.
He didn't see Victoria; she had passed behind him to his other side. He did feel her though, as her hand touched, and the stroked, his bottom. Giles face fell and he went pale, pulling away from her dramatically.
"What's wrong, sweety-pie?" asked Victoria sounding upset.
"Don't touch me!" he said harshly "Mother might be watching!"
"I'm really looking forward to our date" she said stroking a finger down his chest; her eyes downcast and her expression coy and innocent.
Alison was saying something to him, but he couldn't take it in; he ignored her completely.
"Stop it!" he said in a whisper trying to move away from Victoria. She followed him.
"Why don't we go and see your step-mother, tell her we're going out?" said Victoria "Won't she be pleased?"
Giles was shaking; he did his best to escape this mad girl's attentions, while at the same time trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. It was the slowest chase scene in history.
"I'd love to suck your cock" said Victoria quietly "Will you let me?"
That was too much. Giles suddenly fled; running out of the room and up the stairs. He locked himself in the bathroom.
Victoria put an arm around Alison; gave her a warm smile and led her out into the garden. Alison felt very much better.
The party was winding down and people were already beginning to leave. Keith and Margaret had managed to speak with all the neighbours, sometimes together, but usually separately, and Margaret now found Keith stood in the corner on his own with the remains of a mug of coffee.
"Shall we make a move?" Keith asked.
Margaret nodded.
"Are you still sure about Ben?" he asked her.
"Yes, I think we should give it a try. Maybe we've just been daft all these years, these other kids seem fine, and the parents are really nice" said Margaret.
"Yes they are, aren't they" said Keith "Giles too, he seems a very nice boy."
Margaret blinked and cocked her head to the side slightly.
"I thought he was rather creepy. I didn't like him at all" said Margaret "Or his mother"
"Well I agree with you there, she's a right..." Keith looked round carefully and dropped his voice "Witch."
"Or desiccated dodo" said Margaret.
"What?" asked Keith, his face questioning.
"I'll explain later" she said.
"Come on then, better get back, and I can deal with Ben. Get it over with" said Keith.
"No, I'll deal with Ben" said Margaret firmly.
"It would be better coming from me" said Keith surprised.
"You're at work all day. I'm the one who's going to have to deal with him" said Margaret "So let's start as we mean to go on"
Keith nodded, there was sense to what Margaret said, and he had to admit to himself that he was grateful to be relieved of the responsibility.
"Straight up to your room Ben, I'll be up in a minute" said Margaret as they stepped though the front door.
"Why?" asked Ben beginning to get worried.
"Just do as you're told!" she said sharply.
Ben stomped up the stairs like an armless Cozy Powell.
"And we're going to put a stop to that too" said Margaret watching him go.
Amy followed Ben, but she omitted the bass effect and wore a contented smile.
"I'll put the telly on" said Keith.
"You might want the volume up" said Margaret heading into the kitchen.
Margaret opened the utensil drawer and examined a number of possible implements. She tested them against her hand. When she emitted a surprised "Ow!" at the relatively gentle impact of a large and heavy wooden spoon, she closed the drawer again, satisfied that she had discovered the appropriate weapon.
She turned and headed upstairs, before her nerve failed her. She paused outside the closed door to Ben's room and took a deep breath. She had never imagined being in this position before. In all her years as a mother she had never contemplated putting one of her children over her lap and spanking them. She'd often had a spontaneous urge to give them a smack, that was only natural, an urge which, until very recently, she'd always resisted. But now, to take Ben's bare bottom over her knee and stir him to tears and anguish with a wooden spoon; she began to doubt herself.
She began to regret that she hadn't let Keith take the first spanking; get Ben used to the idea before she had to deal with him, but she knew she had to exert her authority some time, and now was as good a time as any other. She recalled how nice and polite all the other children had been; how caring and normal their parents seemed. Grace was the exception that proved the rule, and of course Alison's tantrum. Diane had seemed so convincing, and she had been a nurse. Margaret decided that she was just being silly. She opened Ben's door and walked into his bedroom without knocking.
Ben was fidgeting at his computer, trying to decide which game to load. He was anxious and felt sick. He didn't know what his mother had meant about being up in a minute. Of course he remembered what had been said about a spanking, but he still couldn't really believe it. He was convinced that they were just saying that to frighten him; almost.
When his mother walked in, without knocking, wearing a strangely determined expression, his eyes were immediately drawn to the wooden spoon she was carrying. He did not comprehend its significance, but it puzzled him nonetheless.
"Ben, there are going to be some changes round here" she said.
He looked up at her fearfully.
"Your father and I have discussed it and we've decided that from now on, when you're naughty, we're going to spank you" said Margaret.
Ben's stomach felt like it had just fallen to the floor, and he felt light headed.
"I don't want any fuss or nonsense, I just want you to do what I tell you, and this'll be over much more quickly" she said.
'She couldn't mean now?' thought Ben. "But you haven't said" he said meekly "Shouldn't I get a warning first, you can't just spring it on me without a warning, that's not fair" he whined.
Margaret was stopped in her tracks. He was right. They shouldn't just introduce a new regime like this without giving him fair warning. She debated with herself briefly, and Ben was encouraged by the doubt written on her face. She was sure that if she backed out now she wouldn't be able to raise the courage again. There would always be an excuse; some reason to abort the first spanking. Then she remembered the events of this afternoon.
"You've had warnings" said Margaret "I warned you several times"
Ben's mouth went dry and his palms grew sweaty. "I didn't think you meant it" said Ben.
"That's your problem" she replied. She took a deep breath before saying "Now, take your trousers and pants down!"
Ben just stared at her in utter disbelief.
"Now, young man!" she urged.
"Mum?" said Ben "Can't we just start tomorrow, I didn't know or I wouldn't have done anything" he said.
"I'm starting right now, and if you're going to dawdle I'm going to make it worse for you, so if you don't want to get it in the nude, get those trousers down" said Margaret.
Ben stood up slowly, not so much to comply, but to stall his mother and buy himself time.
"Can't I keep my trousers up this time" he asked.
"No, you can't" she replied.
"My pants then, please...." he whined.
Margaret looked at his pale, frightened, pleading face; his hazel eyes full of innocent hopelessness. This was her little boy, her baby, and she could read the suffering written all over him. Her resolve nearly broke. She should be protecting him, not threatening him; comforting him, not distressing him. It took a great deal of will for her to say "No!" and when she did it was emphatic; non negotiable; final.
Ben might have begun to get used to it; showing his mother his bottom for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, but he didn't think he'd ever get used to it. Tears sprang to his eyes, and his paleness drowned under a rosy blush that spread quickly across his face.
"Benedict if you don't get on with it I'm going to do it for you, and it'll all come off" she said.
Ben tried one last desperate appeal.
"Please mum... I promise I'll be good..." he said raising his hands in front as him as if in prayer.
Remembering what Diane had told her about carrying through on threats, she tossed the wooden spoon onto the bed and advanced on Ben. In a panic Ben backed away and brought his hands straight to his trousers, starting to undo them "Alright, I'm doing it, I'm doing it" he said.
Margaret didn't stop; she seized Ben by the wrist and dragged him to the bed.
"No... mum... I'm doing it, let me do it... please..." he begged.
"You had your warning" she said "You will listen to me and do as you're told, or you'll suffer the consequences."
Margaret knocked his hands out of the way impatiently and began to unbutton his shirt.
"Mum please... I'll do as I'm told, I've learned my lesson... really" he pleaded, his face a sculpture of woe.
"Put your arms up so I can get your shirt off" she said, ignoring his plight.
Ben hesitated.
"Or shall I take you down to the lounge for this?" she asked.
Ben's arms shot up and she took his shirt off. Diane would have been proud of her. Margaret looked down and realised that his shoes would have to come off before his trousers, or it would be a struggle.
"Shoes and socks, quickly!" she said.
Ben bent slowly and took as long as he dared to unlace his shiny school shoes, pull them off and then deal with his socks. Margaret began to feel a little guilty again, knowing how embarrassing this must be for Ben, but she reminded herself that he'd brought it on himself. He could have just taken his trousers down and got on with it. As Diane had explained, he would need to learn to obey, and it might take a few lessons before he got there.
Ben stood up slowly again, feeling very vulnerable; he had tears of shame rolling down his cheeks already and he trembled at the prospect of what was to come next.
Margaret hands came to the top of his trousers and she tried to keep them steady as she undid the button and clasp at the top. She slid his zip down and let his trousers fall under their own weight. "Step out of them" she said.
With a great deal of reluctance Ben stepped out of his trousers, but he brought his hands down to cover his groin area.
Margaret looked at her son, who stood shaking and crying before her in just his boxer shorts. She remembered how she had been curious to see what he looked like down there; see how he had developed. She hoped for his sake that she wouldn't be disappointed.
"Take your hand away" she said "I don't want them getting in the way"
Ben didn't want to take his hands away. Without his hands in the way his mother would see his willy when his boxers came down, and he just couldn't bear the thought of that.
"Mum... I..." he began, not knowing quite what he was intending to say, but struggling to find some magical formula that could rescue him.
"The lounge then?" she said, making a half-hearted threat to rise.
"No!" he said quickly and battled his hands out of the way.
"That's better" she said more gently "Ben you're going to have to learn that it's better to just do as you're told, first time, because otherwise things are just going to get worse for you, darling"
Ben was encouraged by his mother's change in tone. It was such a relief to hear her talking to him more gently, like a proper mother. It relieved none of the humiliation, none of the fear for what was going to happen, but had some small settling effect nonetheless.
Margaret leaned ever so slightly forward; placed her hands on the waistband of Ben's boxers, and with her eyes firmly fixed on his groin she drew his pants down.
Ben's blush grew broader and deeper and his head dropped; eyes glued to his feet. His shame was palpable, even worse somehow than what he had experienced being stripped in the den. He was crying freely, and began to hiccup.
Margaret was surprised at what she saw. She was not expecting to see any pubic hair. She'd had no idea he had entered puberty. She wondered if this was the reasons he found it so difficult to get undressed in front of her. In a clumsy attempt to reassure him she said "Don't worry darling, this hair's perfectly normal, you're just growing up"
Her words were not reassuring. Drawing attention to his new growth; making it obvious that she had seen it; knew she had seen it; was looking at it right now, sent fresh waves of shame through him.
Margaret studied his young penis. She had no experience of boys' penises at all. She knew her husband's, but he was a full grown man. She had seen Ben's when he was younger, but she hadn't seen any other boy's. She had nothing to compare it to; had no way of knowing if Ben was large or small or average for his age. Her attention turned to his scrotum. It was tight, and hung only a little from his body. He seemed to Margaret to be well formed, and what she imagined to be normal. The overall impression was that he was a handsome boy in all respects, and she couldn't help thinking that his penis and scrotum were very cute. Her strange desire to reach out and tickle it was held back by her sense or propriety and maternal responsibility.
"Come on then, the sooner we get started the sooner we can get finished" she said, and she pulled Ben towards her and over her lap. He was heavier than Alison, and stronger, and she wondered if she was going to be able to cope with him. She took a little while to get him into just the right position, so that he was properly balanced, and again she was surprised at how comfortable it felt with Ben over her lap like this with his adorable bottom sticking up in the air.
Ben felt utter despair. Whatever pride or dignity he had imagined he had as a boy of twelve years of age, evaporated in that moment of being placed in this childish and vulnerable position. His fear of being exposed by his mother; his shame at the actuality of it, had left him no time to consider what was going to happen next. Of course he knew she was going to spank him, but he hadn't spared any mental effort to consider what that was going to be like. It began to dawn on him now that it was probably going to hurt. It was only then that he suddenly realised why she had been carrying the wooden spoon, and he suspected it was probably going to hurt - a lot. He wondered how it would compare to the riding crop, or being spanked by Victoria.
Margaret rested her hand on Ben's bottom and stroked it affectionately. She decided that she'd like to spank him with her hand first, before using the wooden spoon. She wanted to gauge what effect it would have on Ben, and she wanted to feel what it would be like for her too. She raised her hand and began to smack Ben's bottom, while he hiccupped and cried in her lap.
She had been surprised at how pleasant it had felt at first, before her hand had begun to sting, when she spanked Alison. But she was even more surprised at the pleasure she got from Ben's bottom. Spanking it seemed nicer still. Her hand rising and falling, impacting his firm flesh, feeling him squirm and shudder; even the sound of it. She tried to rationalise it. She knew it wasn't anything sexual. It was more to do with taking back control; imposing her will. Ben was her little boy again, and she was in charge. His vulnerable and adorable bottom was hers, and her gateway to a better behaved boy. She suddenly realised how much she was looking forward to less back-chat, less argument, less noise; just more peace and tranquillity really. She wondered if it would have a sufficiently pacifying effect on Ben that he might enjoy the occasional cuddle again. She doubted it.
Ben squirmed uncomfortably; his bottom reddening and the sting rising like a scorpion's tail. He lamented his old life; a life where a telling-off, a grounding, or some other method of discipline was used; a method where he wasn't humiliated and tortured. He wondered how he was going to endure this new regime. He resolved to be good from now on, but he knew that was hopeless. Even when he was good, really good, things just happened around him, things that weren't his fault. He was always, and now quite literally, in the lap of the Gods.
Margaret continued to use her hand, for the pleasure of it, long after it had begun to sting, but eventually she had to abandon that tool and she picked up the wooden spoon.
Ben hardly noticed the pause, let alone that she was switching implements, and so when the first blow of that culinary instrument landed he was taken completely by surprise. The pain shot through him and he shrieked. The second blow had him fighting for his life and his hands flew CAP over his rump, desperately trying to prevent his bum sinking under the spoon's vicious assault.
Margaret was astonished at Ben's reaction to the spoon, and she lost control of him. She couldn't strike at his bottom without hitting his hands, and he was breaking free from her firmest grasp. She stopped momentarily to let him calm down a little, but his fear of the next strike kept him struggling. Margaret used all of her strength, and shifted him over one knee, wrapping a leg round his legs. She succeeded in this manoeuvre mainly because when she began shifting Ben, he thought that signalled the end of the spanking and he did relax.
Once she had him in place she grabbed his wrists with her left hand and forced them out of the way. Realising that this contradicted his expectation of an early release, Ben began to struggle again. The return of the spoon to his sore bottom had him jerking and shrieking again soon after. Margaret quickly realised this wasn't going to work. Holding his wrists meant that she couldn't use her left arm to hold him down properly and he was escaping sideways off her knee. She stopped again.
"Up on your bed" she said.
With a low moan, and crying uncontrollably Ben evacuated her lap, certain now that this must be the end.
"Lie down, on your beck" she said.
That confirmed it for Ben. On his back, his bottom would be hidden, so she couldn't be intending to hit it anymore. With no shred of defiance left in him, he lay back on his bed, but still, out of shame, he covered his groin with his hands despite the terrible burning in his bottom.
Margaret took hold of Ben's ankles and started pushing them upwards "Lift your legs!"
Ben, bewildered by her instruction, obeyed out of an instinctive fear of retribution.
It was only when his legs began to rise, and he felt his bottom becoming exposed again that he suddenly realised he was not as safe as he had thought; not safe at all. Margaret pushed his legs all the way up and over and leaned on him to keep him still. Ben tried to struggle, but found he was trapped; pinned under his own legs and his mother's weight. When the spoon bit into him savagely he panicked like a cornered rat and tried to free himself.
Margaret went to work, bringing the spoon down on the lower part of his buttocks, just above the thighs. This was fresh territory where her spanking hadn't yet reached.
Ben struggled and shrieked, and his failed attempts to escape, the knowledge that he was powerless and entirely at the mercy of his mother and her spoon broke his will, and he began bawling unselfconsciously. This broke an important barrier; took him across a line he hadn't expected, and wouldn't have wanted to cross. He began begging for mercy, loudly enough for the whole house to hear him. The humiliation of this final admission of his subservience; of his mother's authority over him in all and every sense, sent Ben spinning back in time to when he was just a little boy, an infant; dependent on his mother for everything.
Margaret knew Ben well enough to know that his bawling and his begging were genuine. She looked down at his pathetic form, and she felt aggrieved. She had done this to her baby, and she suddenly wondered what on earth she was doing; what had possessed her. She wanted to cry. She lowered his legs gently and Ben crawled into a little ball and wailed in pain and self-pity.
She resisted the temptation to gather him up and comfort him; tell him how sorry she was; to promise never to do this to him again. She looked heavenward, as if for strength, and steadied her own breathing; allowed her mind to calm.
It was too late now. It was done, and it couldn't be undone. She should at least give it a chance; see if it had any effect. If it didn't, well then they could return to their usual methods. She wasn't very hopeful, but it might work. Diane had said it would be difficult at first. She expected Ben to be resentful, hateful, that he would never forgive her, and that's what she feared most.
She climbed off the bed, and took a last deep breath.
"Ben, I want you to stand in the corner" she said, her voice quavering.
Ben moved slowly, but he did move. His pain wracked body complained violently with every slight motion, and his bawling never ceased. He stood where his mother indicated, in the corner of the room, facing the wall.
Not trusting her voice for the moment, Margaret took his unresisting hands and raised them to the top of his head. Ben stood shaking violently, petrified of a new assault. Margaret looked at his flaming bottom and wondered how long it would hurt for; how long before the redness would fade.
"I want you to stay there until I come back" she said "Then we'll have a talk"
Ben heard, but he didn't respond.
"I'll check on you from time to time, and if you move, or take your hands from your head, I'll take you downstairs so you can stand in the kitchen. That way I can keep an eye on you while I'm making tea" she said.
She left before she changed her mind and gave in.
Ben remained where he was, bawling, and feeling sorrier for himself than he'd ever felt in his life.
He didn't hear Amy pad into his room, and hadn't even registered that his mother had left his bedroom door open.
"Oh my God!" said Amy.
Ben didn't react.
"I could hear you screaming, but I didn't think it would be that bad" she said "I thought you were just being a wuss"
"Go away!" said Ben miserably.
"I hope this is just for you and I'm not included" she said, leaving Ben to suffer alone and in silence.
Margaret slunk into the kitchen as if she didn't belong there; as if she didn't deserve to be there. She was wracked with doubts and regrets. She pulled open the fridge and pulled out salad vegetables like an automaton. She didn't feel like cooking, and after the buffet this afternoon they'd only need a light tea.
As she turned from the fridge she saw Keith standing in the doorway. When she saw his expression she said sharply "Don't you start!" raised her hands to her face and then burst into tears, dropping the lettuce and cucumber on the floor.
Keith hurried to her side; hugged her.
"What have I done?" she wailed.
Keith had been shocked when he had heard Ben screaming and begging for mercy. He was disappointed too. He'd imagined that his son would have been stoic and brave and take it like a man. Ben's cries had chilled him, and he had wondered what Margaret was doing to him.
"What happened?" he asked gently.
"You know what happened" she said, taking her frustration out on Keith. He kissed her on the head, and gave her a moment to calm down a little.
"I meant... a bit more precisely" he said.
Margaret paused, tried to relax herself. She turned her body to nuzzle her head into Keith's chest; partly for comfort, partly out of shame.
"I gave him a beating and he didn't like it" she said.
"He'll get over it" said Keith.
"Will he?" she said aggressively and without believing it.
"Darling, think about all the other kids we saw today. They all, or most of them anyway, get treated in the same way, and they don't seem too badly off" he said, but when there was no response he prompted her "Did they?"
Margaret calmed down a little more. Only partly because what he had said was true, but mostly because her husband didn't think she was a hateful woman for what she had done.
"No" she said softly.
"We know it's going to take time. And we're all going to have to adjust. Ben's going to have to get used it, and Amy, you and I... we'll take time too, but in the end, if it works anyway, it won't be so bad." Keith said comfortingly.
"Amy, why Amy?" asked Margaret.
"She'll be treated the same way, and although I can't see her getting in trouble very often she's at least going to have to get used to seeing, and hearing, Ben being punished" he said.
"I hadn't imagined we'd spank Amy" said Margaret.
"It won't be fair if we treat Ben one way and Amy another" said Keith.
"No, I suppose you're right" she said.
"Did you make you peace with Ben? When you finished?" he asked, suspecting he knew the answer to that question.
"I stood him in the corner to cool down. Diane said that was best. We'll make our peace later. I hope" she said, and then suddenly began crying again "What if we can't? What if he won't? If he never forgives me?"
"He will" said Keith "Remember the other kids. They weren't all tip-toeing around in a paranoid state of fear were they? They seemed to have close and loving relationships with their parents."
She nodded again and began to pull herself together.
"You'll feel better when you've made peace and you're friends again" said Keith.
Margaret didn't answer and didn't move either. After a minute or two of silence Keith spoke again "Just as well you did it anyway, if Diane's given you pointers, I'm not sure I'd know where to start."
"Perhaps I'll have to give you a lesson" she said in a shy voice.
Keith pondered for a moment, not understanding what she meant "In what way?" he asked.
"You'll have to take your trousers down" she added, not feeling able to express herself directly.
"Oh, in that way" he said "Perhaps we should have an early night"
"Again!?" she asked.
"Why not? Kick the kids out after tea, and you can... you know, give me some pointers" said Keith clearing his throat.
"I don't know what's got into you, Keith Davison" she said holding him tight, feeling overwhelmed with love for him. "I can't see Ben wanting to go out, he's probably going to want to sulk in his room" said Margaret.
"Well, we'll just have to kick him out" said Keith, and after a pause "See how much better this is than grounding?" he asked.
"You are... insatiable!" she said.
"Only because you make me that way" he said "And besides after this afternoon... one of the neighbours really turned me on"
Margaret stiffened, jealousy and fear filled her "Who!?" she asked.
"Grace" he said laughing "She really turned me on. What a babe!"
Margaret relaxed again and sank into Keith's arms "Well if you're ever going to have an affair, and don't you dare!" she said "You can do what you like with her, feel free. But I don't want to hear any of the details."
"No?" he asked feigning surprise "You don't want to hear about the moonlit walks in the graveyard, the first tender bites on the neck, the..."
"Now you are going to get it..." she said "I'll use my wooden spoon!"
"Promises, promises" said Keith.
Ben had no idea whether his mother had checked on him, but he hadn't moved an inch. When Margaret entered the room and saw him again her doubts and fears returned. It was time to make peace, and she was desperate for it. She sat on the bed, pausing only for a brief moment to catch her breath; still terrified of what she was going to do if he rejected her. Tears began to form and she realised she hadn't been more frightened in all her life.
"Ben" she said, almost sobbing "Punishment's over, darling" She paused, afraid to administer the final fateful test "Come over here"
Ben almost didn't hear her final words they were so quiet, so tentative.
He dropped his arms, but not to his groin; he held them out in front of him. He spun round and launched himself at his mother, throwing his arms around her, burying his head in her breasts, he bawled for forgiveness.
Margaret was an atheist, but she raised her face heavenwards and silently said "Thank you, God" as tears streamed down her face.
Instinctively she pulled Ben into her lap, and when he yelped she wrapped her arms round him tightly "Sorry, darling, sorry." She settled him carefully, mindful of his pain and its root. She kissed his head all over.
"All forgiven" she said "All forgiven. I love you so much, darling. You have no idea how difficult that was for me, but it's for the best. We only want what's best" She pulled his face upwards in both her hands and kissed it all over. She kissed his forehead, his cheeks, she kissed away his tears "Mummy's here, you're all safe" she said.
Ben melted into his mother's body. All he wanted was forgiveness; to be loved; he wanted to be safe, and he could conceive of no safer place than this.
Margaret rocked him like a baby, stroking his arm and side, but being careful not to touch his bottom.
"I'm sorry, mummy" Ben said miserably.
"So am I darling. So am I" she said.
Margaret was astonished by Ben's unexpected reaction. He was an affectionate child, but usually shunned this kind of molly-coddling. It was so far removed from what she'd feared that she was overwhelmed and felt elation and powerful protective maternal instincts emerge and combine colloidally. It was a while before she realised that Ben didn't seem shy of his nakedness any more, and she saw that his penis was a little larger than before. Not erect but just partly so.
Ben swam in a warm protective sea, his sense of self restoring itself slowly as he pressed his head into his mother's chest for comfort.
Margaret, still overcome with primitive maternal feelings, pulled her dress open at the front. Entirely unconsciously she lifted her bra, and presented a nipple to Ben's lips. Equally unconsciously he suckled her dry breast.
Continued in Chapter Thirty Three