Poison

"Hey, what did you just call him?", Finn froze in place as Burt strode into the room, furious. He stuttered to find an answer, but Kurt's dad would have none of it, "You think you can come into my house and use the word faggy?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I…", he fumbled with his words again.

"I thought you were different. I guess I was wrong", he stood dangerously close to the teen, towering over him in spite of their difference in height.

"I'm not going to have that kind of poison in my house", the metal on Burt's belt clanked as he took it off. Finn backed up, nearly in tears both from the searing lecture and the threat of his second ever spanking.

"Wait, Burt"

"Dad", Kurt said at the same time, instinctively protecting Finn, as he always did.

"No, Kurt. This is our house", he turned to Finn, "He is my son. Get upstairs. Now."

Finn hesitated for a second, then edged his way around Burt to go upstairs and wait. How could he have been so stupid? He didn't even like that word; he'd just been trying to make Kurt mad. And why? Because his redecorations were too girly. In retrospect, he felt like a total douche-bag, and he figured he would feel worse in just a few minutes. He'd only had one spanking before, and he hadn't sat comfortably for days afterward. And, like, he was no psychic, but he had a feeling that Burt was going to be hitting a lot harder. And not with a ruler either. Shit.

When Burt walked through the door, the anger was gone from his face, but he still held the belt in his right hand. He came over and sat on the bed next to Finn. Laying down the leather weapon next to him, he ran his head through his hands.

"I'm really disappointed in you kid", Finn's heart sank. Was there some kind of adult convention where they taught you to say the exact words to make a kid feel horrible.

"I know. I'm really sorry sir. I'm not like that. Really"

"That's what I thought. But, Finn, if you weren't like that, you wouldn't say it. It's somewhere in you. But, I know you're better than that. That's why you're not on the streets right now. Any other kid I'd have had out of my house. As for you, I think you just need some guidance. And you're about to get it. Stand up", that was Burt's way. Kind, but firm, and always straight to the point. Finn kinda wished he was a little more long winded.

"Yes, sir", he stood and pulled down his pants, wondering where he was going to get it. No piano in here, wink, wink, nudge.

"Over the bed, Finn", he obeyed, bending over the tall bed. Before he even had time to settle, he felt Burt's hand on his back, and heard the belt fly through the air.

Ssssssssssssss. He had been right. Burt should have been a quarter back with an arm like that. Shit. But, Finn was determined to take his punishment quietly. He didn't want Kurt to have to hear it. He'd done enough to the boy.

Mmmmmmph. Five more blows came down in rapid succession. This hurt as much as the whole ruler and paddle spanking combined, and Finn was sure they had barely started. He was right.

Sssssssssssss. Aah. Sssss. Oww. Oww. Oww. Oww. Oww. Oh being quiet wasn't going to last much longer. He couldn't even count the blows anymore and tears were already streaming down his face.

Ssssssssssss. Mmph. Oh please. Stop. Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. Stoooop.

Like a mind reader Burt stopped. He could see the red through the boys briefs, and he knew the kid was in some pain. He also knew how much effort he was putting into not crying out loud. Probably for Kurt's sake. That was pretty nice. But they were no where near done. And this next part was going to be the worst for him.

"Okay Finn. I'm real proud of how you took that first part, but you can just go ahead and cry on this next part. You're gonna be talking anyway. Stand up", sore and crying, Finn stood. He turned to face Burt.

"Alright, now. This next part is going to be hard. For you and me both. But we need to change your mindset. I'm gonna make you so disgusted by that word that you'll never say it again. You're going to get fifty with the belt", Finn's heart dropped at the number, and he started crying harder than he had been before. Fifty? Fifty? Fifty, fifty, fifty….

"And after each stroke, you're gonna count and say 'I will not say fag'. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir"

"And Finn. You can throw your shorts over there with the rest of your clothes. You won't be needing them", Finn's eyes opened wide, but he didn't figure arguing would do much good. Besides, he didn't need to worry about being embarrassed; he was probably going to end up bawling like a little girl in a few minutes. And how much protection could some thin white briefs offer?

AAAAAGGHH. Oh God. Okay a lot. A lot of protection. Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

"Finn, you've got something to say"

"Owwww. Yes, sir. One. I will not say fag", the word tasted bad on his tongue.

Ooooooowwwwwww. Two. I will not say fag.

Aaaaaaaaagh. Three. I will not say fag.

Owwwwwwwwww. Four. I won't say fag.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh. Five. I will not say- fag.

Oww. Six. I won't say- fag.

The belt kept streaking down, and sure enough, the more he counted, the less Finn wanted to say that stupid word. Ugh, how could he ever have said it in the first place.

Aaaaaaahhhooooowwwwww. Aagh. Owwwww. Forty. I won't say it. I won't.

"Won't say what, Finn", Burt rested the belt for a minute.

"Pleeeeeease. I don't wanna say it anymore. I- I don't wanna say it. Please, Burt"

"I'm glad you don't want to say it anymore. That's good. Now, I wanna make sure you never want to say it again. Forty, you won't say what?"

Finn kept quiet, never wanting to repeat the word again, but Burt was relentless. This was part of the boys punishment, and it would burn the hatred for the word in him. There were only ten more he knew the kid could make it. He brought the belt down hard on the top of Finn's thighs.

AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEE. Owww. Ok. Ok. I'm sorry. Forty. I will not say…fag.

Owwwww. Forty one. I won't say- fag.

Sssssssssssss. Mmmmmmmmph. Forty two. I won't say fag.

Forty three. Owwwwwwww. I won't say fag again.

Forty Ssssssssss forty four. I won't say fag again.

Forty five OWW forty six AGH forty seven. I won't say fag anymore.

Aaaaaaah. Forty eight. I won't agh I won't say fag anymore.

EEEVER. Forty nine. I won't say fag ever again. Owwwww.

. Fifty. I won't say fag ever, ever again.

Finn collapsed to his knees, resting his head and his arms on the bed. Burt sat down next to him, equally as emotionally spent. He rubbed the boys hair until he finished crying, then got up and handed him his clothes back. Finn just looked at them, not wanting to have anything touch his sore, raw butt. He caught a glimpse in the mirror and sure enough, it looked as bad as it felt. Fire engine red, with deeper red welts in some places. Oh God, he'd never be able to sit down again.

"Finn, put your shorts on at least. I don't want you walking around in the buff", Finn tenderly pulled up the briefs, wishing he had worn boxers. He managed to do it without crying, but it wasn't for lack of effort. With that done, he turned to Burt.

"I'm really sorry. That word is horrible. And I shouldn't have said it anywhere, let alone under your roof. It was stupid. And Kurt's, like, never going to forgive me", Finn hugged his left arm awkwardly. Kurt had pretty much been his best friend since the whole Puck thing, and he'd hurt him pretty badly. The word douche bag came to mind again.

"Give him time. He'll soften up. You'll get back in his good graces eventually. And don't worry about apologizing to me. We settled what we needed to right in here.", Finn smiled a little at that. Burt was so cool, even if he had just blistered his ass. He just always knew what to say.

"Thanks, Burt"

"No problem, kid. Oh, and Finn. Dinner's in an hour and in this house we all sit down at the table together."

Finn just groaned and walked back toward his bedroom to lay down. Suddenly the decorations weren't so bad. At least the bed had a lot of throw pillows. Those could come in handy for dinner.