Work Text:
16-05-1967
TUESDAY
—"Alright children, Here are your test results, Many of you did very good this round, I'm proud of you all."
Is what knocked Charles out of his daze, Realizing he'd just been staring blankly at the classroom entrance door the whole time while the teacher was talking, And now the results of last week's mathematics test were going to be handed out.
He was in the middle row, It took the teacher a few moments to get to him, But eventually she came up to his seat, And..
"Charles, Good job, But I know you can do better, You're a clever boy."
...
78%?!
𝘼 𝘾 𝙋𝙇𝙐𝙎?!
Shit, Shit, This was not good, His father wasn't going to be happy about this, But how? He'd studied all night preparing for that test, How did he score so low?!
Charles spent the rest of the day fretting about what kind of punishment his father was going to give him, His thigh bounced violently on his chair and he kept biting at his nails, Watching the clock as he dreaded the slowly nearing home time, And for his loss, The home time bell rang and the children around him got up from their seats, Charles got up a while after, His legs shaking a bit as he threw his bag over his shoulders, Pushed his chair into the legspace of the desk and walked out of his classroom.
As he walked through the vast city of London from ████████ Elementary School to his own home, A pit formed in his stomach about his father's reaction when he saw his uncharacteristically low score on the test paper, He stared at the resident stray cats he always saw on the way home, He was stressing so much he'd forgotten to buy them a can of tuna like he does every Tuesday, But he supposed some kind stranger would come around and lend them a hand, He pet a few of them and headed on his way home, His fear clouding the guilt he felt towards the poor things.
Finally, He reached the main door of the plain house he lived in, And hesitantly grabbed the doorknob to open the door, It opened with a creak, And there his father was, Smoking a cigarette on the sofa, Placing it down on the ashtray when he saw his p̶e̶r̶f̶e̶c̶t̶ h̶e̶i̶r̶ son walk through the door.
"Good evening, Son."
He spat out the word 'son' as if it were venom, And Charles almost trembled at it, And tried to keep his voice as steady as his father wanted it to be even as a thick layer of sweat seeped through his skin and coated his palms.
"Good evening, Sir."
He responded, He never really had the luxury of being able to call his father 'Dad', 'Daddy' or 'Papa' like other kids, His father stated clearly: 'I am not your father until you have succeeded my academic expectations for you.", He tried to hide the paper behind his sleeve before his father caught onto it, But unfortunately, O5-1 notices everything.
"What is that in your hand?"
"Nothing is in my hand."
"You are lying."
His father said, His tone shifting to be a bit more stern than normal, Which made Charles shrink, Aaron knew that would scare him into admitting the truth, It did each time, Hesitantly, Charles revealed the test paper with a C+ marked on it in bright red ink, Almost as if taunting the little boy whom was it's owner.
Aaron stood from the sofa and took the paper from Charles' hand, Examining it carefully as he looked down at his son.
"I'm disappointed."
He started, At that moment, Charles hoped the world would swallow him up, That'd be at least 10 times better than enduring this.
Finally, Some math he's good at.
"First, You failed a test, Second, You lied to me about it."
Charles sunk back in shame as he struggled to meet his father's gaze, He wanted to run up to his bedroom, Cry and never come out again, But he can't do that, It'll only anger his father further, Plus, He's not allowed to cry anyway.
"You've been acting up quite a bit lately, It's high time you've got a proper punishment."
'Proper punishment'? Aaron already holds lit lighters to Charles's skin and brings it closer every time he cries out in pain, How could there be a punishment worse than that?
"Yes, Sir, I apologize."
He spoke meekly, Immediately regretting having spoken right after because of how drastically his volume had decreased — A sign of emotional weakness, Something Aaron hated, And it seems he noticed, Because then he grabbed onto the cortain bang covering the side of Charles's face, Dragging him up the stairs as Charles himself bit his lip tightly to stop himself from shouting in pain.
Aaron dragged him into what was previously him and Agnes's bedroom, Making Charles stand directly in front of the bed facing him, He got on his knees and reached his hands out to the boy's dark blue coloured blazer, Unbuttoning it and slipping it off his shoulders to reveal the white, Buttoned long-sleeved shirt underneath, Charles was perplexed at this action, But chose not to question his father, He knew better than to do so.
"Now, Charles, I know you're a very good boy and this new punishment will be a new thing for you, But I want you to try not to express anything for me, Will you?"
Charles nodded, Knowing he didn't have much of a choice, Aaron sat on the bed, Dragging Charles sideways right next to him, Though he was standing.
Aaron placed his hands underneath Charles's armpits and picked him up, Placing him on his thigh and undoing the buttons on his shirt next as he pushed it off his shoulders, Leaving the eleven year old boy half naked to him, Aaron could hardly believe this was his own flesh and blood, His own chest and stomach was covered in scars from previous incidents, While his son was gracefully pale, Untouched by impurities, And just as thin as his mother, Though that might be due to malnutrition because come on, This is post-World War London, He was still lovely.
Aaron could only see Agnes whenever he looked at the boy, The young schoolgirl he met and fell in love with in high school, The one he proposed to in his college years, The one he'd seen fully naked, Coated head to toe in sweat from marriage consummation and laying innocently in his arms while her chest heaved, Like a small doll, Sure, This may be the guilt of her death coming back to haunt him, But the thought has been eating at his brain lately — This boy is beautiful, A spitting image of his mother, While he simply had his father's eyes, Mannerisms and future and that is where the similarities come to an end, As much as Aaron was disappointed his genetics didn't get passed down and unnerved that his son looked like a spitting image of his late wife who died in a horrifying way that'd scar even the strongest of men, He couldn't deny that Charles was beautiful.
If he looked exactly like his mother, Is it because he'll look just as cute as she did after a night of exertion and effort from fornication? Only much less expressive?
Aaron continued to ponder this as he undid the buttons on the boy's trousers, He was sure Agnes would loathe him for this if she were still alive, Even moreso than him forcing emotionlessness upon their one and only son who was still in Year Six, But she's not, So how is any of that of his concern? She's gone, He's the only one or the pair left to forge Charles's future, To shape the man he will soon become, Aaron chooses to do it properly, But in a way Charles will understand who between them is the one that should be followed, Obeyed and submitted to, And what better method than this, Something that Aaron knew should only be an action between couples, And was not exactly the best choice for discipline in children, But when you have a kid in the pubescent ages and you want him to behave (If 'behaving' is being completely devoid of any and all feeling), Then you've to try everything possible.
Soon enough, The clothes on the lower half of Charles's body fell away to reveal a pair of thin, Tall legs and a not yet developed men's genital, The innocence in the child was palpable, And his father was ready to taint it, In the name of the SCP Foundation, Of course, Once his son was fully unclothed, He moved his hand over to undo the buttons and zipper on his own trousers, Letting the mahogany red pair fall away along with what was underneath, Even by the legs alone, One could tell Aarin was far more muscular than Charles, That was to be expected, Considering this is an eleven year old boy we're talking about, Aaron's legs had quite a bit of hair on them, And beneath a nest of brown curls lay six inches of genital, Something Charles's didn't have yet, But hopefully would.
"Father, Is this necessary for your punishment?"
Charles piped up a question, Aaron hushed him with a passive-aggressive reassurance that was more threat than comfort.
"Calm down, I know you must be very on edge, Son, But this will be over in no time, I want you to keep this lesson as a disciplinary example."
That was enough for Charles to go quiet, Half in fear, Half in understanding, Aaron gave another tug on his curtain bang, Making him stand directly in front of him and then drop to his knees, Face directly in front of the solid, Leaking length.
"What am I supposed to—"
Was all he could get out before a rough hand was placed on the back of his head and the tip made its way past his lips and into his mouth, The boy grunted briefly upon the unexpected action, The unpleasant taste of salt was left on Charles's tongue, But who was he to complain?
Aaron had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from moaning, How did it feel exactly like Agnes did? The wetness, The warmth of a mouth's interior, The vocal vibrations, He felt it all throughout his body, Just like the night he retired to the bed with his wife, And for a heartbeat, He could've sworn he briefly saw her, Her long, Elbow-length black hair that was usually tied up to stop it from bothering her while she did chores let free, The smooth, Silky locks cascading down her back and some of her face, A pair of emerald green eyes narrowed in a mix of exhaustion and infatuation looking up at him through a pair of spectacles, A woman he knew was his, And a son whom she gave birth to and looked almost identical to, Both on their knees at his feet, If this power trip wasn't strong, He didn't know what was.
Charles didn't know what exactly he was supposed to do, But he predicted that if his father wanted it in his mouth, It must be for licking, Right? So he begun to slowly, Tentatively drag his tongue across the entering length, In slow speeds that drove Aaron crazy, Sure enough, The father's fists had tightened in the bedsheets, Pushing himself further into the boy's mouth, He didn't have any lubricant on him, So he hoped that this would work, But didn't exactly care, If it didn't work, It'd just be another one of his 'games' for Charles, Where he's forced to show no expression despire facing things that would obviously make someone react, Trying to contain the aftermath of a night of adultery between him and his father while pretending to be just an ordinary schoolboy should be a good challenge to assign his boy.
Despite all of Aaron's efforts not to climax so that he could prolong this moment, The feeling of his beloved's lips on his body, His body inevitably convulsed briefly as a thick, White fluid was forced out of him, Charles immediately pulled away, Coughing violently as the fluid got stuck in his throat and trying hard not to vomit all over his father's bedroom floor despite how much his gag reflex had been triggered, His father forced his head back and whispered almost gently despite the intentions he had.
"Swallow, I know you can do it."
After many attempts, Charles finally managed to force it to shoot down his throat, Trying to regulate his vocal cords from the amount of pressure put on them, Panting heavily for a few seconds before his father placed his index finger underneath his chin, Lifting it up so they could meet eye to eye
"Ah, You reacted, That's what I asked you not to do, Hm?"
Charles froze, His blood running cold as he realized what he'd promised to his father and how he breached his vow, This was not going to go well for him.
"Looks like you'll need a second bit of punishing."
Charles slumped in his position, Realizing there was no protesting against this, He could only hope that he can distract himself and numb out the potential pain his father was going to cause him, Well, What has he ever caused him besides pain anyway.
Aaron got up from his position in front of Charles and gently coerced him onto his hands and knees on the bed, He approached directly behind him, Planting his hands into the bedsheets underneath and aligning himself with the boy's entrance as he pressed himself in, The earlier oral having been useful as makeshift lubricant to make up for Aaron's lack thereof, Though it made it very easy to slip in, It didn't make it any less painful for the boy, He had to bite his lip, Hard, To not yell in pain, He blinked away a few tears forming at his eyes, Terrified at the thought of expressing any emotion in fear his father would worsen the punishment, Aaron thrusted further in, Charles managed a weak whimper which went unheard by his heavily distracted father, Which was a plus.
There was yet another thrust, And Charles felt the slap of skin against his own, A sign that his father had gotten all the way inside, Which he was grateful for, He wouldn't have to endure this torture anymore, That was till Aaron started pulling out till the point where only the tip was inside, And thrusting into the hilt again, Charles's fists clenched, Entrapping the white bedsheets in his veiny hands as he struggled to keep his mind steady from all the pain, Aaron was taking a stride down memory lane, It felt just like Agnes's womb on the day he impregnated her with Charlws, How similar was this boy to his mother? He wondered to himself, Before refocusing on the task at hand.
Aaron teetered on the edge of climax, And with one final thrust, The same opaque, Sticky substance flowed from him and into his sonnas he pulled out entirely, Collapsing onto his bed with his son against his torso in a spooning manner, Head buried in the boy's hair.
"You did well today, Son."
He managed barely, While Charles was laying unblinking, Trying his hardest not to break down weeping as he nodded slowly at his father's words which he would normally be a little pleased with, Charles made sure his father was asleep before sneaking out of his father's bedroom and hurrying back to his own bedroom, Locking the door behind him and leaning against it, His heart pounding heavy in his chest yet his face showing no expression despite how badly he wanted to burst into tears right then and there, The only thing stopping him being the new 'punishment' his father had forged for him for every time he should misbehave.
He fell to the floor, Staring blankly at a framed picture of his mother on his bedside drawer, She was smiling so brightly, Almost like an angel, An exact opposite of what he thought he was now.
Oh how she must loathe him for this.
How she must hate him for letting his father do such a thing to him, The weight of guilt, Grief, Loss and shame washed over the boy, He could hardly believe all of this was the fault of a failed mathematics test, Though with what little strength he had, He lifted himself up and entered the adjoined bathroom to take a shower and get into fresh clothes, The cold water he normally adored did nothing to comfort him, And suddenly, The image of his naked self brought a sense of disgust to him, He tried to get into his clothes as quickly as possible, Brushed his teeth (and his tongue) trying to get the taste of semen out of his mouth and got into his bed, Pulling the blanket onto body and leaving only his head out, Trying to sleep in hopes that tonight was merely a nightmare, Tomorrow, He'll wake up and nothing of tonight will have happened tomorrow.
...
"Gears?"
The sound of Iceberg's voice startles him out of his daze, He realized he'd been blankly staring at the wall of his office for a long time now, And his assistant was standing in front of him, Batch of finished paperwork in hand, Charles, Now Dr. Gears, Hummed in response to Iceberg's call.
"I'm finished with my paperwork, Shall I go down to the O5 Council's room to deliver i—?"
"I will go with you."
Gears interrupted, His tone as deadpan as usual, But his blood pumping as fast as it did that same night he was daydreaming about, That day had broke him, Shattered him from the inside in a way his father had never inflicted on him before, He couldn't imagine it happening to someone he cherished as closely as Iceberg.
The younger man simply looked at him perplexed, Before responding with a hesitant 'Okay...?', Gears got up from his seat and stood next to Iceberg as they walked together, Up the elevator and onto the top floor, Almost the terrace, Where most events were hosted, Gears could've sworn he felt bile rise in his throat at the sight of the words 'OVERSEER COUNCIL' in bold letters on the door they were to enter through.
Gears scanned his keycard and the door unlocked, He twisted the knob and pushed the door open, The O5 meeting room where the members were normally present was hidden behind metal and an opaque black window, Aswell as a dark grey steel door with exclusive O5 access, Only the Overseer Council members were allowed to enter through there, Others could speak to the O5 and the O5 could speak to them through the wall, Iceberg placed the finished paperwork down on a desk while Gears silently tapped his foot on the floor, Hoping for him to be finished, He waited for Iceberg to leave first before leaving in fear that he'd get harmed while he wasn't looking, It's clear that he's very paranoid around the O5, And for a good reason.
However, He was stopped by a voice through the wall, A voice that still makes the hairs on the back of his head stand up to this day.
"Son."
It called, Though the word sounded unfamiliar on his tongue, Like a serpent trying to utter prayers, Gears snapped out of his trance and shot the camera in the corner of the room a glare that despite his emotional suppression, Was harsh and uncharacteristically hostile in nature.
"Do not speak to me, Nor refer to me by that name, To you, I am Dr. Charles Ogden Gears and that alone."
He declared coldly, Turning the knob of the door and pulling it open, Leaving the room before O5-1 managed to say anything back.
Iceberg was waiting outside for him, Luckily, The O5 Council room is heavily soundproofed, So it's likely he didn't hear anything he wasn't supposed to.
"What's with the hold up?"
"One of the O5 members asked me of the wellbeing of an anomaly, I was delayed as I had to give them a response."
"Anyways, Shall we proceed?"
"Okay."
Iceberg replied, Walking alongside his unusually tense mentor to their shared office.