Psycho: The Beginning
A/N: I came across a picture of a grandmother and a child wearing pink pajamas, just like the ones in the story, on Deviant Art, and it reminded me of Norman Bates.
Chapter 1: The Punishment
Norman Bates was an inquisitive six-year-old boy, known for his tendency to push boundaries and explore the world around him in his unique way. His mother, Norma, a strict yet caring woman, had rules she expected him to follow, particularly regarding what she considered appropriate behavior for a young boy.
One evening, after a particularly challenging day, Norman's curiosity got the better of him. He had been sneaking peeks at his sister's clothes, which had been carelessly left on the bed in their shared room. The soft pinks and delicate fabrics seemed to whisper secrets and forbidden excitement. Unable to resist any longer, he tiptoed over to her drawer and pulled out a pair of heart-polka-dotted pink pajamas and matching panties. The fabric felt softer than anything he had ever touched, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.
Quietly, he slipped into the garments, feeling the silky material caress his skin as he put them on. The pajamas fit snugly, accentuating his youthful frame, while the panties felt oddly comforting as they hugged his small hips. He gazed at himself in the mirror, a sly smile creeping onto his lips. A strange, exhilarating rush of emotions washed over him, a mix of naughtiness and joy.
However, his secret didn't remain hidden for long. Norma, alerted by the sound of rustling fabric, burst into the room, her eyes widening in shock and anger at the sight of her son in his sister's clothes. "Norman!" she shouted, her voice reverberating through the house. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"
Caught red-handed, Norman froze. He knew he was in trouble, but he couldn't bring himself to feel remorse for his actions. Instead, a strange sense of defiance bubbled up within him, a rebellious spark that had been growing for some time.
"I-I just wanted to see what it felt like," he stammered, his voice small and shaky.
Norma's face darkened with disapproval. "This is not what little boys do!" she reprimanded. "This is for girls, not for you!"
The air was thick with tension as she approached him, her hand raised. "You're going to learn your lesson, young man," she said firmly. "You're going to get a spanking, and then you're going straight to bed."
Norman's heart raced as he felt his mother's firm grip on his arm. She led him to the chair in the corner of the room, a place where punishments were often handed out. With a heavy sigh, he bent over her knee, the pink fabric of his pajamas riding up to expose his bare bottom.
The first smack of her hand on his flesh felt like a bolt of lightning, a shocking reminder of his disobedience. He yelped and squirmed, trying to escape the burning pain that spread across his buttocks. But Norma was insistent, her palm landing again and again, each blow more fiery than the last. "You will not behave like this in my house," she told him, her voice a mix of anger and disappointment. "You are a boy, and you will act like one!"
The spanking continued, each smack more painful than the last. Norman's eyes filled with tears as he bit his lip, trying to be brave. But as much as he hated the stinging pain, he couldn't help but feel a strange thrill at being so soundly punished in such an intimate way.
Finally, Norma's hand stopped its rhythmic assault, and she let go of him. He slid off her knee, his bottom smarting and red. "Now," she said, her voice softer but no less stern, "you will go to bed wearing those pajamas and think about what you've done."
Norman nodded, his cheeks flushed with both pain and embarrassment. He took a shaky step towards his bed, the fabric of the pink pajamas sticking to his damp skin.
"And no taking them off," she warned as if reading his thoughts. "You'll sleep in them tonight, and maybe you'll think twice before you do something like this again."
With that, she tucked him into bed, the pink pajamas a stark reminder of his punishment. As she turned off the light and left the room, Norman felt a strange mix of fear, anger, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.
He lay there, the soft fabric of the pink panties against his skin, feeling the sting of his mother's hand with every movement. He knew he had done something wrong, but a part of him felt like he had achieved a small victory. It was a new experience, one that was strictly forbidden, and it was both frightening and thrilling.
As the house fell silent around him and the pain gradually faded, he drifted off to sleep, the pink hearts swirling in his dreams. Unbeknownst to him, this moment would be forever etched in his memory, a strange turning point in his young life that would influence his desires and his future in ways he couldn't yet comprehend.
To Be Continued...
