Author's Note: A fan requested this story. Hope you like it sweetie! The story is from the current season of Degrassi: The Next Generation. It's a tag to the episodes 'Not Ready to Make Nice' S11E37 & S11E38. I don't watch Degrassi regularly, so I'm not sure if this is very in character (well you know – as in character as any spanking story can be), but I did watch the 2 episodes this story is from.

Speaking of Degrassi, I did love seasons 2 & 3 – I loved every single thing about the relationship between Joey and Craig so very much. I thought Craig's reactions to his father in 'Tears Are Not Enough' S2E21 & S2E22 were all perfect: at the dinner, on the street, at the funeral, and at the dance. And I sympathize with and understand Ellie in the episode 'Whisper to a Scream' S3E8. Quality television. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I'm not making any money from these stories.

Warning: Consensual M/F disciplinary spanking of a teen by a teen.


Jake looked across the dinner table at Clare, and watched her push the food around on her plate with the fork. He tried to catch her eye while their parents talked about work, so he could roll his eyes in the hopes of getting a smile out of her, but she kept her eyes firmly on her plate of uneaten spaghetti.

It had been two days since Clare had moved back home, and he'd expected her to be feeling better by now, but she appeared to be feeling worse instead. That made him wonder if she'd told him everything that had happened while she was staying with those pot selling ass holes. He glared at his plate when he thought about the things that could have happened to her.

"Jake?" Glen said.

"Yeah?" he looked at his father expectantly.

"Something wrong with your dinner?"

Jake looked down at his plate and then over at his dad with confusion. "No. Why?"

"You're glaring at it instead of eating it."

"Oh, sorry. Just lost in thought I guess." He turned to Helen and said, "It's really good. Thanks." He shoved a big bite of the spaghetti in his mouth.

Clare's mom looked over at her daughter and said, "Seems to be a lot of that going around lately."

Clare put her fork down and said, "Can I be excused?"

"You've hardly touched your dinner," Helen said.

"I'm just not that hungry, Mom."

Her mom exchanged a worried look with her husband and then sighed. "Okay."

Clare stood, and Glen said, "Hey, your mom and I were thinking about going to a movie tonight. Do you kids want to come too? Make it a family night?"

"Oh, that's really nice," Clare said, "but I've got a ton of homework to do. Maybe next time."

Once she was gone, he turned to his son and said, "How about you?"

Jake wanted time alone with Clare so they could talk about what was really bothering her, so he said, "Sorry Dad. I've got a lot of homework, too. But I think the two of you should go. Have a date night." He gave both of them a charming smile.

"What do you say, Helen?" Glen asked.

It had been a rough few weeks with Clare being so unhappy with the living situation, moving out, and then moving back. She thought getting some time alone with her new husband sounded great. "I'm in."

Half an hour later the dinner dishes had been cleaned up, and Jake found himself alone in the house with Clare. His feelings for her were complicated. They'd been friends as children. He'd loved her as a girlfriend, and now he loved her as a step-sister. The love felt more platonic at this point in time, but the desire to protect her from harm had been consistent through their entire relationship, even if it meant protecting her from herself. He went up the stairs to her bedroom, and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" she asked.

Jake opened the door wide enough to stick his head in and said, "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Clare put her homework down beside her on the bed.

"Our parents left for the movies." He came in, and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Okay." After a slightly awkward pause, she said, "And?"

"I want to know what's wrong. I thought you said you were okay with staying here now, but since you came home… I don't know, you seem almost more unhappy than when you left."

She brought her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I'm not unhappy like I was before. I just feel so guilty about everything."

"Maybe you'd feel better if you told your mom what really happened."

"I can't do that!"

"Why? If it's because you don't want to get grounded…"

"No," she cut him off. "Being grounded would probably make me feel a lot better. I was awful to my mom before I left. If she knew what I did, she'd feel worse than she already does. She doesn't deserve that."

"Have you told me the whole story?"

Her brow furrowed. "The whole story?"

"While you were staying there, did anyone hurt you? Did anyone try to make you do something you didn't want to do?"

"Not exactly. They were really nice to me. I felt like I belonged there… most of the time."

"Most of the time?"

"Well…" She broke eye contact and started at her toes. "…I didn't know about the marijuana at first. I never would have gone to stay there in the first place if I'd known."

He put a hand on her foot, and said, "I know you wouldn't have."

She made eye contact again, and shook her head. "But when I did find out, I didn't leave. I could have gone home at that point, but I didn't. Instead I sat there all night and helped them package it."

Jake's eyes flashed with anger. "You what? You helped them package it?"

She nodded and looked down to pick at a thread on her bedspread. "I know it wasn't the right thing to do, but they'd been so nice to me, I felt like I owed them. They treated me like a part of the family, they fed me, and they gave me a place to stay when I really needed it."

He couldn't believe that was her version of things. He muttered, "What you really needed was a spanking for taking off like that."

Her hand stilled, and she looked over at him with shock. "What?"

He sighed, took her hand in his, and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry, but those people were not your friends, Clare, and I can't believe you felt like you owed them anything. You say those people made you feel like part of the family? Both of our parents always try to make us feel like we're a family. You say those people gave you a place to stay, but you already had two places to stay, filled with people who love you. Those so called friends manipulated you into running away from your problems. They talked you into hiding from the people who love you. They convinced you to do something illegal."

She slipped her hand out of his, and glared at him. "I know that now, but it didn't feel like that at the time. I already feel like an idiot for trusting Summer, so you don't need to make me feel worse."

"I don't think you realize the kind of danger you put yourself in."

She rolled her eyes. "I was never in any real danger."

"Yes, you were!" Jake grabbed her hand again, and held it tight, trying to make her understand. "They could have done anything to you! They could have raped you. They could have beaten you up. They could have kidnapped you, and we wouldn't have had any idea what happened or how to find you."

"Don't act like you care!" She tried to pull her hand away, but he held her tight.

"I do care. I know that I'm the biggest reason you couldn't say here, and I think we need to talk about what happened between us."

"Really, we don't," she said while glaring.

"You want to know why I walked out of your room that night?"

"We already went over this, Jake," she said with irritation. "You didn't want us to have sex, because you didn't see us having a future together, and you didn't want things to be awkward later since our parents are married."



"I was protecting you."

She glared daggers at him. "That is a lie." She yanked even harder to get her hand out of his, and succeeded.

"It's not, Clare. It's true." He crossed his arms. "If I didn't care about you, I would have slept with you, because believe me, I wanted to. Then we would have dated until the end of the school year, and we would have been happy together. But what do you think would have happened when I went to college, and you had another year of high school left? Those kinds of relationships don't last, no matter how in love the people are."

"You don't know that for a fact. Maybe we would have been an exception to the rule."

"The odds aren't in our favor, and I'm not willing to take that chance." He put a hand on her knee. "I don't want you looking back and having regrets. Two years down the road when we're both in college, if we're still single, we can try dating again."

She could see the sincerity in his expression, and the burning anger she'd felt towards him for weeks started cooling. She could see the logic in what he was saying, but her feelings for him made the logic hard to take. "You mean it? Two years from now we can try again?"

"If we both want to, and if we're both single, then I don't see why we couldn't start dating again. It will be different when we don't live together."

"Okay." She smiled and put her hand on top of his.

He was happy that they'd been able to clear the air about their break up, and he didn't want to upset her again now that she seemed calmer, but he felt obligated to keep going with the previous topic. "But right now, especially after hearing that you helped those jerks to package their marijuana, I'm having trouble seeing you as anything but a younger sister who made a huge mistake."

Frowning, she took her hand off his, and broke eye contact. "I know it was stupid."

"I think we need to tell your mom."

"No!" Her eyes snapped back to his, and she shook her head.

"I shouldn't have covered for you before," he said gently. "Either you tell your mom, or I will."

"No Jake, please don't tell her." Clare sat up and took his hand in both of hers. "Please."

The pleading expression she had on her face made it difficult for Jake to stick to his decision. He forced himself to shake his head. "She needs to know. You put yourself in danger. You deserve to be grounded for it."

"Okay, so I'll be grounded, but it can just be between you and me. Two weeks with no tv or computer."

He scoffed. "Do you honestly believe your mom's not going to notice if you ground yourself for two weeks? That's just going to make things worse, because she'll think you're depressed."

Her eyes started to prick with tears at the prospect of telling her mom what she'd done. "I can't tell her," she whispered. "It's too humiliating. I'm so ashamed that I trusted Summer. And if my mom finds out, then you know she's going to tell your dad." A tear slid down her cheek. "I feel sick when I think about them finding out."

The tears made it impossible for Jake not to cave. He sighed and shook his head, "Okay, I won't tell your mom, but…"

She squeezed his hand, and cut him off, "Thank you."

"But," he gave her a pointed look, "you need to stop making yourself sick with guilt."

"I'm trying to… I just don't know how."

He thought about it for a few seconds and said, "Well, I could…" he stopped himself, and shook his head.

"You could what?"

He mulled it over for a few more seconds, and then looked her in the eye. "When I followed you to that house, I really did feel like spanking you."

She let go of his hand. "You can't be serious."

"I am serious. That was my gut reaction, and I still think you deserve it."

"I… I…" She had no idea how to express the swirling emotions in her head and stomach. She couldn't even say for sure if she hated the idea.

Jake saw panic in her expression. "Hey." He put a hand on the side of her face gently. "It's just an idea to help you feel less guilty, it's not something I'm going to make you do."

The panic that had started to swell receded before she'd even been able to put a name on the feeling. "Your gut reaction is spanking?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Not usually. But that night… a spanking seemed like a good way to show you how I felt about it."

"You were angry."

"Maybe a little, but mostly I was worried about you."

She looked down and picked at the loose thread on her bedspread again. "What good would it do now though? It happened a couple of days ago, and I've already moved back home."

"And you still feel so guilty that you couldn't even eat dinner. A spanking would help you get past that."

Thinking it over she said, "How do you know? Have you been spanked before?"

He nodded. "Yes. You haven't?"

She shook her head no. Having trouble believing him, she said, "Glen actually spanked you?"

"Once, when I was seven. And my mom spanked me a couple of times when I was younger than that, before the divorce."

"I'm not seven, Jake, I'm sixteen; almost seventeen. Don't you think it's a little… absurd?"

He shrugged. "Maybe, but the punishment is supposed to fit the crime, right? Running away from a house where people love you so that you can stay with strangers sounds pretty absurd to me."

Clare thought it over for a few seconds. She knew she should be aghast at his suggestion, but she wasn't. The thought of telling her mother brought up much worse feelings than the thought of him spanking her. The uneasy feeling she'd been carrying around in her stomach for days actually seemed to ease up when she considered having a concrete punishment for what she'd done. There was also a fleeting jealous thought in her head that this would be memorable to Jake as well, and he'd never have a memory like this to share with Jenna.

"If I said okay to the spanking," she said, "what would you do exactly?"

He raised an eyebrow, and said, "Isn't that kind of obvious?"

"I guess…" she blushed and muttered, "but all of my clothes stay on, right?"

"Yes, of course," he said, blushing as well.

After a long pause, Clare nodded. "Okay."


"I don't want to feel bad about it anymore."

He nodded, and held out his hand to her.

"Wait…" She chewed on her bottom lip. "How many swats?"

Jake thought it over for a few seconds, and dropped his hand. He hadn't had a number in mind. He'd planned to spank her until he thought she'd had enough. After considering it he said, "Thirty."

"Thirty?" she whispered with wide nervous eyes.

Her expression made it difficult for him to stick to it. "No more than thirty."

She closed her eyes thinking it over.

Wanting to be clear he added, "At least twenty."

She took a deep breath opened her eyes and said, "Okay."

He held out his hand to her again, and she put her hand in his. He stood up, and gently pulled her to standing as well. Keeping her hand in his, he moved to the foot of the bed, and sat down on the corner.

The whole thing seemed surreal to Clare as she stood looking down at his lap. She felt him steadily pulling at her arm, and willingly lay across his thighs, even though part of her brain was telling her she shouldn't let him do this.

Once she was in place, Jake wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her up snug against his stomach. He put the flat of his other hand against the seat of her khaki pants and said, "No more putting yourself in danger, Clare. You're smarter than that."

She felt ridiculous lying across his lap staring at the floor. She grimaced as his hand left her butt, and gasped a millisecond later when it slapped back down hard enough to make her second guess her decision. Before she'd gotten her breath back from the first swat, another one snapped down just above the first. A tiny squeak of distress escaped her throat. The third smack landed dead center on her right cheek, and her feet came up off the floor. He swatted her a little lower on the same side again, and her whole body tensed.

Keeping a tight grip on her waist, he brought his hand down twice on the left side.

"Jake!" she cried out, "Not so hard!"

Steeling himself, he kept smacking her just as hard.

"Ow!" She wiggled in his grasp, pushing on his thigh with both hands, while both of her feet kicked involuntarily for the next few swats. "Jake, please! Please not so hard!"

"I know it hurts," he said while spanking, "and I know you don't like it. That's what makes you feel less guilty when it's over."

Her eyes filled with tears, and the next swat made them spill down her cheeks. "Oh ow! Please! Please stop!"

Jake did stop, and chided, "That was only sixteen. We agreed on at least twenty."

"I know, but…" She shifted her hips trying to get rid of the sting, and tried not to break down into serious crying. She quickly blurted out, "I won't feel guilty anymore, and I'll never take off without telling someone where I'm going. I promise!"

"That's a good start. Are you going to trash anymore phones?" He gave her two sharp smacks.

"Ah! No! No I won't!" she promised.

"Are you going to lie to your mom about where you're staying again?" He put a hard swat on each of her sit spots.

"Noooo! Never again! I promise!" Her chest felt tight with pent up emotions about lying to her mother.

"Are you ever going to let someone talk you into doing something illegal again?" He tightened his hold on her, and slapped her sit spots four times even harder than before.

"Owww!" she yelled, and broke down into sobs. She shook her head no, unable to speak for a few seconds. Eventually she got the word, "No!" out through her tears.

He let go of her waist, and rubbed his hand up and down her back while she cried. "Okay," he said gently, "It's over." When her crying didn't slow down he said, "Come on, let's get you up."

He pulled on her arm, and she pushed herself up off his legs. She covered her face with her hands and turned her back on him, too embarrassed and upset to face him.

"Hey," he said as he stood. He stepped in front of her, and tentatively pulled her into a hug.

When he felt her lean into him, and grab his shirt in her fist, he wrapped his arms more securely around her, and kissed the top of her head. "It's going to be okay," he said softly. "You'll feel better in a few minutes."

They stood together for several minutes, until she got her crying under control. When she started to feel uncomfortable in his arms, she mumbled, "I need some tissues."

"Sure." He let her go, and grabbed the box off her nightstand, and held it out to her.

She grabbed some, blew her nose, and wiped at her eyes.

Jake stuck his hands in his pockets. He felt awkward, and hoped he'd done the right thing.

She threw her tissues away, kept her back to him, and mumbled, "I want to be alone."

"Oh…" He didn't want to leave her alone while she was still upset, but he didn't know what else he could say or do to make her feel better either. He stepped towards the open door and said, "Okay. I'll be downstairs watching tv if you want to talk."

She didn't respond. He stopped in her doorway and opened his mouth to say he'd check on her later, but didn't know if that would be appreciated or not. Frowning, he turned and walked down the hall towards the stairs.

As soon as she heard his footsteps moving down the hall, Clare walked over and quietly shut her bedroom door, and locked it. She immediately put both hands on her butt, and rubbed at it. Glaring, she walked over to the only mirror in her room, turned around, undid her pants, and pushed them down along with her underwear to look at her rear end. When she saw how red it was, she mumbled, "Wow," and felt it with the hand that wasn't holding onto her pants.

After a few seconds of touching her skin, and deciding where it hurt the most, she made eye contact with her own reflection. She quickly looked away, and pulled her pants and underwear back up. She lay face down on her bed and thought about everything.

Downstairs, Jake sat on the couch, and turned on the television. A black and white movie popped up, but he didn't bother turning up the sound, or changing the channel, because he was too busy thinking about what he'd just done. The longer he thought about it, the more nervous he became. What had he been thinking? What if she hated him now? What if she told their parents what he'd done? He nervously bit a fingernail. He had no proof that she'd agreed to it, but her skin would be carrying the evidence of what he'd done for a day or two. What if it didn't help at all? What if it only made her feel worse about what she'd done, and pissed her off in the process? He stood up and anxiously paced around the living room.

Upstairs, Clare told herself that she should hate Jake, but every time she tried to muster up some negative feelings about him, she thought about his earnest expression when he told her the spanking would help her. She tried to be angry with herself for agreeing to the spanking in the first place, but her stomach rumbled and distracted her. Her eyebrows drew together in a frown when she realized she was starving. She'd forced a little food down her throat at each meal, but she hadn't actually felt hungry for a couple of days.

Jake stood by the couch, wondering if he should go upstairs and try to talk things out with her, when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

Clare stopped half way down the stairs when she saw Jake near the bottom of the stairs watching her. Blushing profusely, she broke eye contact and mumbled, "I'm hungry."

"Okay…" He looked at her closely for a few seconds, trying to decide if she seemed angry, until he realized what her hunger probably meant. "You're hungry?"

"Starving," she said, and walked down the rest of the stairs without looking at him.

"There's a lot of spaghetti left over," he said. "I could microwave some for you."

Thinking this was an odd suggestion, since she could easily do it herself, she darted her eyes up to his. He was looking at her with concern. "Sure," she said. "That would be nice."

Pleased that she didn't seem to be angry with him, he went to the kitchen to fix her a plate. Clare walked further into the living room, and got on the couch with her legs folded up under her, so that she wasn't actually sitting on her butt. She stared at the black and white movie for a few seconds, before grabbing the remote and turning the volume up.

A few minutes later, Jake was holding out a plate of spaghetti for her.

She set the remote down, took the plate, and said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He sat down on the other end of the couch, and tried to focus on the movie, but couldn't. He kept darting glances over to her while she ate.

Once the food was gone, she set the plate down on the coffee table, and sighed with contentment.

"Clare?" he said softly.

"Yeah?" she asked, not looking his direction.

"Do you feel better now?"

Reluctantly, she said, "Yeah, I guess."

"Are you… angry about it?"

She sighed. "No. I think I should be, but I'm not."

"Do you hate me now?"

"What?" She turned to make eye contact with him, but found him looking down at his lap. "No, of course not."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, more relieved that he'd like to admit.

She watched his face, and realized he'd been truly worried about it. Any lingering anger she might have felt towards him vanished. "Jake?"

He looked over at her.

"I feel a lot better." She looked down at her folded legs and shifted uncomfortably. "You know… emotionally. So thanks… I guess."

"Uh… you're welcome?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "But physically, this really sucks." Before he could reply, she uncurled her legs, and tentatively laid down on her side, resting the side of her head on his thigh, while keeping her eyes on the television. "My legs were falling asleep from sitting like that, and sitting normally would be uncomfortable right now."

Surprised, it took Jake a few seconds to react. Figuring this was a kind of peace offering on her part, he rubbed his hand up and down her side a couple of times, before resting his arm there. "You'll feel better tomorrow," he said quietly.

She picked up the remote control and held it out to him without taking her eyes off the tv. "Could we watch something else?"

"Sure." He took the remote, and flipped channels until he found a show he knew she liked. A few minutes later, they were both laughing at the show, and Jake knew Clare was going to be able to finally move past what she'd done.

The End