Author’s Note: This is a blurb for the show Dexter: Original Sin. It takes place during Season 1 Episode 5 ‘F is for Fuck-Up’, and it contains spoilers for that episode.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.

Warning: Coerced spanking of an adult by his parent.

Surrogate Moral Compass

After the confrontation with Dexter, Harry went to his bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it. He took a deep breath and willed his heartrate to go back to some kind of normal. His son had just proven in no uncertain terms that he was every bit the psychopath Harry had feared he would become. Tonight, Harry had actually been afraid of his son rather than afraid for him.

Lying on that table, with no ability to move while his son stood over him with a knife was a feeling that would be permanently etched into his psyche. The most frightening part had been Dexter’s decree of ‘Dad, you can’t stop this anymore.’ Just two days ago he’d told Dexter he was cut off. Essentially grounding his twenty-year-old son for botching a kill. And Dexter had complied. Or had he?

Maybe he’d spent his day off contemplating his next move. Of course, Dexter couldn’t have known that Harry would fuck up so badly in court that he’d almost lost his job and his morality in the same night. But Dexter might have been planning his little performance either way.

Harry reached up and felt his neck for the puncture wound where his son had dosed him with a horse tranquilizer. Dexter’s assurances that he’d calculated the correct amount didn’t help ease the acid rolling in Harry’s stomach.

Knowing that Dexter had perfected his methods, helped Harry worry less that Dexter was going to get caught someday, but it made him worry more that his son might end up deviating from ‘the code’ years later. He’d molded Dexter into a decent, upstanding, respectable young man. But he’d also molded him into a murderer. Sure, he only murdered the violent criminals who’d slipped through the cracks in the justice system, but a murderer none the less. And because Dexter lacked his own moral compass, Harry had to be that compass for him. But that would be difficult to do if he was afraid of his own son.

Harry shook his head, stood up straight, and noticed that his clothes that Dexter had removed were neatly folded on his bed. Dexter had always been obsessively tidy. Dexter’s words circled in his head again, ‘Dad, you can’t stop this anymore.’ He started to put his folded clothes away, but when he picked up his belt, he paused.

Harry had never been a believer in corporal punishment. He’d never spanked any of his kids. The same could not be said of his own father. The mere thought of threating his father the way Dexter had threatened him tonight made him wince. But then Dexter probably didn’t even realize what he’d done was threatening, because he didn’t think like a normal human with empathy for others. He probably assumed Harry was feeling pride, not terror, when learning that his son had perfected his murder skills. And it was Harry’s responsibility to help him understand what he’d done wrong.

His son was right. Harry couldn’t stop him from killing. Not anymore. But he could, and should, still guide him to make sure he didn’t become the thing he hunted. With that thought in mind, he folded the belt over in his hand and went out to face his fears.

Dexter was in the middle of rolling up the plastic sheets he’d used, and stuffing them in black garbage bags when Harry came in.

“Dexter.”

Dexter looked up. “Yeah, Dad?”

“Stand up and bend over the table.” Harry gestured to the table he’d been laid out on minutes ago.

“What?”

His son appeared genuinely confused, and Harry couldn’t blame him. “You’re right. I can’t stop you from killing. But I’m damn well going to guide you. I shouldn’t have grounded you when you fucked up killing Mad-Dog. I should have taken my belt to your ass.” He held the belt up for Dexter to see.

Dexter frowned, and shook his head. “You’ve never spanked me. Not even when you caught me killing animals.”

“I know. I don’t believe in corporal punishment for kids. But you made it pretty clear tonight that you’re not a kid anymore. And as an adult you’re fully capable of understating logic, cause and effect, and facing the consequences of your actions, which is why I think corporal punishment will work on you now. I know this may be difficult for you to understand, Dex, but what you did to me tonight was wrong.”

Dexter stood up and shook his head again. “But I was just showing you that I can do it right. And I stopped you from doing something you can’t come back from.”

“All you had to do was say ‘Dad’ and I would have stopped. You sure as hell didn’t have to drug me, and strap me to a table like one of your victims to prove that you could do it.” Harry didn’t want to be harsh, but he had to get his son to understand, “I was afraid, Dexter. In that moment, I was terrified that you were going to kill me.”

“What? I would never hurt you, Dad! I was just showing you I could do it! I swear! I never…”

Harry held a hand up to stop his son’s rambling. “I know. Believe me, if I thought for one second that you were a danger to me or your sister, you’d be in a psych ward, not living here with us. But I need a way to keep you on the straight and narrow without cutting you off from killing.”  He gestured to the belt. “And this is the quickest and most efficient way to show you the error of your ways, and make you think long and hard before making the same mistake twice.”

Dexter was still frowning, but he put his hands in his pockets, and focused on the floor, clearly thinking it over.

Harry walked over and put a hand on Dexter’s shoulder. Once he had eye contact, he said, “You know I love you, Dex. I’m doing this for you, not for me.”

 Dexter gave a faint nod, and Harry gently guided him over to stand in front of the table. “Put your hands on the table, and don’t stand up until I tell you it’s over.”

After a very short pause, Dexter leaned down and put his hands on the table as requested.

“Good. I’m going to give you six for messing up the kill on Mad-Dog, and…” Harry paused. “No, you were already grounded for that, so we’ll make it four for that, and six for treating me the same way you treat your victims. I’m your father, not your victim, and you need to show me some respect, even if I’m not perfect myself.”

Lecture over, Harry added. “This is going to hurt. You stay put anyway and think about what got you in this position so you can avoid it in the future. Is that understood?”

Dexter gave him a meek, “Yes.”

Wishing he’d taken a couple of practice swings when he was in his room, Harry took aim, and smacked the belt across the center of Dexter’s backside, hoping it wasn’t too harsh.

A destressed grunt came out of Dexter, and Harry could see his son tense up as he worked to stay still.

He slapped the belt down again, and Dexter let out a small hiss.

“Tell me what you did wrong with Mad-Dog.” Harry demanded.

Dexter took a deep breath. “I… I untied his ankles without checking to make sure he was unconscious.”

Harry struck him again.

“Ow!” Dexter whined.

“What else?”

“Uh… I… I’m not sure.” Dexter sounded sincerely confused, and looked back at Harry.

Harry helped him out. “When you got home, I asked you how it went, and you…”

“Oh… I uh… I said it went fine.”

“But it hadn’t gone fine, had it?”

Dexter looked back at the table. “No.”

“No,” Harry agreed. “So, you lied to me.”

Dexter nodded and his body tensed before Harry even swung the belt. It landed with a dull thwap, and Dexter grunted with discomfort.

 “If something like that happens again, I expect you to tell me about it, even if it means you’ll be getting another dose of this. Is that clear?”

“Very.”

“Good.” Harry sighed. “I know you don’t feel emotions the same way the rest of us do, but part of blending in means you have to try. Did you take the time to consider how I might feel lying on your table?”

Dexter shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.”

Harry put a comforting hand on Dexter’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “I know you are, Dex, and I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t punish you after the fact. Six more. Stay still.”

Harry left his hand on Dexter’s shoulder, not to hold him still, but to help comfort him as he brought the belt down six more times.

Dexter remained tense throughout, and the small noises of distress that came out of his throat with each blow got louder with each one, and the last two made him yelp.

Once he’d dished out all six, Harry gently pulled on Dexter’s shoulder to get him to stand as he said, “Okay, son. All done. You can stand up.”

Dexter stood up, and put both of his hands on his backside to rub out the sting.

Harry put the belt on the table and held Dexter at arms’ length. “You’re not going to be disrespectful or lie to me again, are you?”

“No. I swear I won’t,” Dexter said emphatically.

“And you’re not going to botch another kill, are you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Okay then, you have a clean slate.” Harry pulled his son into a tight hug, and a couple of seconds later, Dexter awkwardly hugged him, too.

Harry patted Dexter’s back and then let go. “Okay, finish cleaning up, and try to get some sleep before work tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Harry picked up the belt and went back to his room, feeling marginally better than he had since letting Dexter make his first kill.

The End

Email Author
(Feedback makes me happy.)