Disclaimer: Characters used are the sole property of Joss Whedon and affiliates. I just borrowed them to use, as I like to do from time to time.
And little author's note for those who may have just skimmed over my summery and didn't pay very close attention to it: this story is about the corporal punishment of William/Spike, it contains such scenes and themes pertaining to his punishment, in other words this story is about spanking and other such things so if you do not wish to read about such kinky bits, then please find another story to fit your tastes. And now that we have that out of the way...on with the story.
Oh how he hated hearing that blasted word. Human beings weren't meant to hold such positions for any period of time longer than three seconds at best.
His back was stiff and sore.
Arms cramped from being wrapped around his legs; hands clasped together behind his knees.
Everything hurt. Especially his back-end.
Any and every thing was a spankable offense. He'd soon learned that when he'd only gone out to see about having some fun one tedious night. So what there was a slayer on the prowl, William the Bloody feared no one.
She would have been no match for him. Have ripped her limb from flimsy limb. Held out her heart in front of her while it was still beating and let her see it before she found herself at death's darkened door.
Just because she had him cornered in that alley meant absolutely nothing at all. Drugged his drink...and how the hell was he to have known she'd done that? The daft idiot hadn't taught him yet how to sense and taste the somewhat sickly sweet aroma the poison produced when mixed in with fluids.
"Was to be next week's lesson," he'd said.
Utter bit of pillocks that was. And it was due to that little incident his first trip was instigated down into that dank cellar.
What a horrid place it was.
Cold as any Siberian winter no matter the season. Smelled, soured and stale, of the past victims that had made their own treks down into its grave depths; most of whom never made it out again alive.
One wall was covered with such a vast collection of instruments it would boggle anyone's mind. If it could cause pain or suffering in any way, shape, or form it hung there.
He always tried to avert his eyes whenever near them. Made him shudder; and if there is anything William the Bloody did not do it was shudder. And nevertheless his reservations about finding himself in that depraved pit, here he was again.
Same ghastly position. Same horrific torture. Goddamn the heartless wanker.
He never repeated himself more than twice.
With a huff and elongated groan, he stopped staring back at him with eyes that flashed full of juvenile detestation and did as he was being told.
"Haven't I had enough?"
"It'll be I who decides when you've had enough boy, so shut that whiny mouth of yours and widen up those feet."
"I'm not all that flexible you know..."
"Anymore backtalk from you and it'll be an extra twelve, do ya want that?"
Gritting out the, supposed, respectful title from behind clenched teeth, he forced both feet attached to unsteady legs to slide even further apart, causing his bum to lift up higher in the chilly air that blew across it, which was the intended result he knew was being sought after.
Barking out the word, the man behind him nodded and drew back his arm.
Bracing himself for the impact, he inhaled and waited.
The noise of hard rattan cane connecting with bare flesh shot throughout the room and echoed in both pairs of ears.
Screaming, he jumped but somehow still remained in place as sharp fingernails dug down into the back of his hands, imprinting moon shaped marks and even going as deep as to draw blood in some places.
Two, quick as lighting, blows to the top and middle of his bottom caused him to howl out in pain and, no longer able to keep his rigid pose, straightened up from his stance. With eyes glassy and wet with tears, he turned back to his tormentor.
"Did I tell you you could move?"
"You sick pisser I said I can't take anymore!"
Stomping one foot, he brought a hand back to trace along the outline of bruises formed and still forming on his battered backside.
"Look at what you've done to me-I'm scarred!"
"Don't be so dramatic childe-"
Raising an eyebrow up at the declaration, he tucked the cane underneath his right arm and looked at the boy with passive interest, "You'll be healed of most by morning. The rest will fade later on."
"So says you..."
Muttering under his breath, he hissed as a finger wondered far too close to a purple spot and pressed down, "I've had over thirty already, haven't you gotten your jollies by now?"
"Am I to stand here while you try and stall what you've rightly earned and will have coming?"
Frowning, he glared at the older individual, "Didn't earn it..."
"Your study time is just that. For studying. I will have no childe of mine illiterate."
"I'm far from illiterate and you know it."
"In the human world, which matters not now. You need to know of this world William; perhaps if some of what you read can be absorbed it'll help you stay alive, since that hard head of yours always seems to find you trouble in some way or another."
"You speak to me as if I'm a child..."
"'Cause ya are my oh so naughty one, and you best not forget that."
Griping to himself in a subdued manner, he knew better than to try and argue, wouldn't get him anywhere and to provoke the raging bull of an Irish man in front of him was not something he would willingly seek to do in this sort of situation.
"Now I do have better things to be doing right now other then taking care of your sorry hide, so back over and lets finish this."
"Please...I truly can take no more."
"You can and you will. Now-bend."
Son of a bitch.
Doing as he was being instructed once more, he bit down on his tongue and waited in agonized silence for it to continue.
Not only did the, accurate as ever, cane get him on the bottom, same as it had before, but then it also ended up catching him on the quite sensitive junction where his backside and thighs met. Tears finally fell from his eyes at the burn and agony they produced, and the small droplets collected down onto the floor.
"Five more William."
Half pleading, half begging, and fully desperate, he shook his head, "No Grandsire I can't- I can't!-"
Unmoved nor affected by the young one's claims of reaching his limit, his arm poised over the quivering bottom once more.
"I want you to count these last strokes out for me loud and clear, and you know what's to come at the end of each count don't you?"
Oh how he hated this damn ritual. So infantile and ridiculous and pathetic. Made him seem all the more like the child he fought against being described as so often.
Yelping out first, he recovered as best he could before responding, "36 sir, may I have another?"
"That you may."
Answering the question that was as rhetorical as it was bitter and dripping with loathsome anger, he delivered the requested strike.
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he was overwhelmed with the copper tainted tang of blood as it flooded his mouth from his, now, wounded tongue.
"37 sir, may I have another?"
Despite knowing he only had two more to go, he was unable to resist the fierce urge to touch his bottom and reached back immediately.
"Move those hands William!"
Shaking his head at the order as his hands only seemed to inflame the anguished and swollen bum further, hot tears ran down his pale cheeks.
"Do you want more then?"
"I've had enough!"
"Talking back to me will only earn you a session with the tawse after we're done here."
"Oooh!-you're not being fair Athair! I was only writing a few lines of poetry is all!"
"The dribble that you call 'poetry' can be written at any other time of the day. When I sit you down to study that is exactly what you are to do and nothing else. You've been warned too many times already to not know this."
Silly rules. Far too many of them and all far too stupid to boot. To his own credit however, he was lucky to remember half, if any, of them most of the time.
Feeling the cane rap down firmly across his knuckles several times, he snatched his hands up from off his sore keister and held them to his chest for protection.
"I do use my hands you know! I won't be able to write anything if they're injured as well..."
"I'd also think you'd like to be able to sit down before next week to be able to write at all, but you're not doing much to prove that either."
"I'll die-I'll die if I get hit with that sodding thing one more time!"
Cocking his head to the side, the man looked sadistically thoughtful, "Is that so?"
"I'll take whatever you want me to-as long as it's not that god awful, wicked piece of hell!"
"Remember William, it was you who proposed this."
"Oh no...no! You can't be serious!"
Yelling out and crossing his arms over his torso, his head shook back and forth with great intent and vigor.
"My patience is running rather thin William, you will come here and you will come here now."
Allowing a snarl to accompany his last word, the large man pointed the object at the boy and beckoned him once more.
"May I go back to the cane?"
"You can, but there will be another thirty for you to take if you do."
"Thirty? But I just had two left!"
"That was before, this is now, and I'm not discussing this with you, now make up your damn mind chidle or I'll make it up for you, and you'll not like what I choose."
He was nearly thirty-five and yet here he was. Padding over to 'Daddy' to receive a good whacking with the slipper. If he wasn't so aware that any attempt to run or flee would end with him strung up in the dungeon for who knows how long to be whipped unconsciousness daily and repeatedly until he near death or the malicious prick got bored, he would have chanced it. But that look in his Grandsire's eyes was not one to test or toy with and he wasn't so petulant as to ignore it.
"Next time I tell you to do something and I get one, just one, word of disagreement out of you, I swear to you William I will thrash the very skin off your difficult hind-end and then beat you more, do ya hear me boy?"
Spitting out the word, he winced next as he felt a heavy hand land down on his aching bum sharply.
Correcting himself without being asked to, he lowered his head down.
Calling out the name that he bestowed onto the boy at least once a day, he raised up the slipper and brought it down with an audible-
Voicing his discomfort, he wiggled on the sturdy lap, "Do you have to hit me so hard?"
"Of course not, I can always hit you this hard."
Body jerking in response to the swat so powerful it would have propelled him off the man's knees were he not held to his side so securely, he lamented in his folly.
"Any more stupid comments out of you and this will just go on for that much longer."
Stating the assurance without hesitation, his right arm went right back to swinging in a rhythm that received harmony from the cries being emitted by the upturned target atop his lap.
*Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap*
Trying to take his punishment as a man would and was supposed to, he found that just impossible to do. With a bottom so thoroughly worked over by the cane and now getting the never ending shower of stinging, burning, excruciating whacks from the sole of the beastly shoe held in his Grandsire's hand, he couldn't hold back his total misery caused by it all and began to sob softly.
Hearing the sniffles and halting breaths being taken, the man who held many titles for the childe, including the one of disciplinarian, as he did here, took note of the hushed sounds of distress but decided to not stop just then, continuing to smack the slipper down across the battered backside before him.
"Please-please stop Athair I've learned my-my lesson, I swear I have...I won't do it again-I promise..."
Getting out his pleas and promises all at once, he fought with all he had to keep his hand from snaking back to protect his bottom from the blows causing him more pain than he could remember feeling in a good long while.
"What was that?"
Asking the question, the man being addressed gave two more wallops while awaiting his reply.
"I-ooww! I said I won't do it again! Ahhh!-"
"And I am to believe you?"
*Whap Whap Whap*
"Yes! What else do you want me to say?"
"Is that attitude intended to convince me that you are truly repentant William?"
"Maybe if you'd stop being such an arsehole you'd hear me when I say I'm sorry alright!- "
Though crying and an utter mess both physically and emotionally, he was also furious, he wanted this over and he wanted it over now.
"Somehow I do not believe you childe. Yet."
Adding on the last word, the man suddenly gained a new grip on the withering lower body, a snug retention that only spelled out one thing for the boy in his possession.
*Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap*
Rapid lashes of searing fire was the only way he could describe it as that brutal monstrosity peppered his bare backside so he hardly had time to kick or scream out at the abrupt and meandering persecution.
Voice ringing out at an entirely higher tone and octave than any he'd used all night, the boy bucked and kicked and wailed with all the strength he could muster.
"Daidí stop! Please!"
"Now that I can believe."
Speaking over the yelps and pleas and cries, he brought down the slipper five times more.
*Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap*
"Study time is for what William?"
"Studying! I know I know!"
"So there will be no more 'poetry' breaks to be had then from now on yes?"
"Yes yes there won't! I promise Daidí! Never never again!"
"That's what I like to hear..."
Speaking mostly for his own sake, as he knew the boy's mind was clearly elsewhere, he slapped the flesh now colored purple, scarlet and blue once more before stopping.
Too concerned and wrapped up in his weeping, he didn't really notice that the spanking had finally ceased, nor would he have been able to. Bottom already past the point of being able to determine when it was no longer being whacked at, it throbbed and pulsated terribly.
Exhaling out sincerely, he set the shoe aside and looked down at the slender body draped over his knees that was shaking and shivering and quaking. Giving him barely enough time to gain back some composure and self-awareness, he placed his wide hands under the boy and lifted him up to stand.
Word slipping past his open lips as he closed his eyes, he dropped his head and tried to determine if it would be worth the agony he'd cause by rubbing to rub anyway and hope it may do something to ease his hurt despite.
"It'd be best for you to leave it alone."
Advising him about the thoughts running through his mind, the man responsible for his dilemma rose to his feet next, pocketing the slipper as he did so.
"Come along then-it's late and the sun will be coming up within a few hours."
"You expect me to be able to walk in this blessed condition?"
Cheeky till the end.
"Nay, that I don't childe..."
Allowing his sentence to go unfinished, he scooped up the thin figure into his arms and prepared to make his way out of the room that seemed to seep and drown in the fresh despair.
"Not a baby you know..."
Unable to just keep silent and static for even a minute, he managed to rest his head on the shoulder it lay beside without any real protest.
"Don't have to remind me of that young William...for one, you'd be a lot easier to tolerate-"
Taking less than a full minute to make it to the bedroom belonging to his exhausted cargo, he opened the door and walked over to the lavishly decorated bed residing squarely in the middle. Unlatching the small hands from around his neck, he placed the boy back down onto the floor.
In the blink of an eye he found himself dressed in his night shirt that hung down past his thighs, and bed-covers pulled back to give him access to the cool sheets underneath.
Were it not that he knew just the slightest hint of a tantrum from him would have him back over his Grandsire's knees in a heartbeat he'd have spoken up against the kiddie treatment he was getting.
"Am I to be getting a lullaby as well?"
But gosh darn it old habits were so very hard to break.
"Have I not set a sufficient enough fire in your bottom yet childe?"
He blanched and whispered, "Yes sir..."
"I thought as much."
Turning to heft his tired and weary body up the side of his bed, before his smart mouth got him into more trouble, he found himself tapped on the leg and looked back to see the big man standing there still, slipper back in hand.
"Not a word William."
Groaning, he rolled up onto his knees, not even daring to entertain the thought that he could sit at all, and knelt down on the downy mat below him.
Motioning at his hands, he waited.
Stretching out both arms, William held out his hands, palms facing up.
Placing his own free hand under the lad's left one first to keep it still and steady, he snapped the slipper down upon it six times, very hard.
*Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap*
Knowing to not try and pull back or risk additional swats, he closed his eyes and tried to keep quiet.
Once he was finished with the one hand, he let him go to nurse the pink and raw palm as he attended to the other.
*Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap Whap*
Completing his task, he released that appendage as well and watched the boy shake both hands out to the side and make an annoyed face.
"Did I have to have those?"
"You use your hands to disobey me they get punished as well. Try and remember that for next time."
"How am I going to sleep now?"
"You'll make do. Get in."
Lying down on his stomach, the one part of him that seemed to not give him any grief, he was covered up with gentle movements that were strangely considerate coming from the person employing them.
"You do not move from this bed until I come and get you in the morning. Am I making myself clear William?"
There was the Grandsire he feared and hated and despised, and loved.
Smirking at the look directed up at him, he got in one last parting shot to the damaged backside covered by the frilly duvet.
"You will learn one of these days William-you will learn..."
"Or die trying?"
Speaking out after the leaving shadow, tall and daunting in its size, the honest, and nearly paternal, face stared back at him.
"Not if I can help it childe."
Slightly shaking the shoulder of the man standing to his right, he looked puzzled by the unresponsive demeanor and tried again.
Head whirling around at his old name, the blond blinked in surprise, "Wha?"
"Did you hear me?"
Sighing, the older of the two rolled his eyes, something he did quite a bit when around the younger man, "I swear-it's like talking to a cheap man's version of Billy Idol as a wall..."
"Hey-I'm still learning poof."
Narrowing his eyes at the words thoughtfully for a moment, the brunette grew somewhat reflective because of them.
"I guess you are..."
Trading small smiles, both men gazed at the other for a moment.
"You're an insufferable little brat, you know that?"
"And you're a miserable old wanker who uses too much damn hair gel."
Breaking the mood with their age old insults and not so witty banter, they returned things to normal.
Until the next time.