Warning – There be spanking and paddling ahead. No sex.
Thank you to our ever patient beta who wants to remain nameless.
Jay laughed as his friends staggered off toward the waiting taxi. The three of
them could never hold more than two beers, unlike him. He could drink at least
three, if not four, and still talk, as well as walk, and drive straight. Making
his way to his bike, Jay slipped behind the trash cans to water the rats. That
way he would make it home without having to stop and piss alongside the highway.
He shook his head to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the night. Giving
his watch a glance he saw that he was already a half hour late. "Jack is going
to go nuts on my ass," he said, as he walked toward the back parking lot of the
bar he and his buddies had hung out at, after a good day of skating.
Once he found his bike he pulled out his leather chaps. After struggling for a
few minutes, he yelled, "Fuck you," and shoved them back into the saddlebag.
"That'll teach you for not zipping," he said, as he sat on his bike. He rested
his head on the windshield of the bike and thought maybe he should not have had
that double shot for the road. Grabbing his helmet he strapped it on. He looked
at his phone and saw he'd missed three calls from Jack. "I am so busted," he
mumbled he pulled up the text screen and tapped out something and then sent it,
hoping it was to the right person and it was understandable. Starting up the old
Harley gave his stomach a rumble, as well as a jolt, he hadn't expected; he'd
forgotten how bad it was to ride with one's belly full of beer, Jagermeister,
along with greasy foods.
Jack looked at the message he had received and saw red. His fingers trembling,
he put ten dollars into the swear jar, and then spent every cent as he turned
the air blue. He felt somewhat calmer when he heard the Harley pull up but his
eyes narrowed as he heard Jay stumble up the stairs. When the door swung open he
got his first look at Jay. It was lucky that he had regular health checks
because his blood pressure went sky high.
"You've been drinking and driving," he stated, his voice flat, suppressing the
anger that flowed through his veins.
Jay held up his hand then quickly touched his finger to his lips telling Jack to
shut up. "Don't start. I had a few, and before you go blowing your Top's top
off, I'm going to take a piss, a shower and then I am going to bed," Jay
snapped, as he stepped into the bathroom, letting the door slam behind him. Jay
looked at himself in the mirror. `Idiot you just told your Top to shut up,' the
little angel yelled at him. `Blame it on the Jagermeister,' the little devil
Jack counted to ten twice, then a third time in French. It almost worked. He was
relatively calm when Jay emerged from the bathroom. He had a large glass of
water in his hand. "Sit. Drink. You don't have work in the morning, we'll talk
Too much beer or just plain stupid - Jay could not decide when he dropped to the
floor and looked up at Jack. "Arf," he panted then scratched behind his ear.
Jack just smiled grimly. "Dogs sleep on the floor," he said calmly.
Cocking his head to one side Jay tried to read Jack's face, not liking the voice
or the tone. Giving one of his best smiles he said, "You're not that type of
Top," and held up his hands. "Please"
"So you're happy to play the game until it doesn't go the way you want?" Jack
pulled Jay up. He hauled him into a hug, "Don't worry me like that again," he
whispered into his Brat's ear. "You have no idea how much trouble you are in."
He handed Jay the glass of water. "Drink that," he ordered, "The alcohol
dehydrates you, and this will help." Jay obeyed and went to sleep, snoring
Jack was sitting cross legged on the bed when Jay woke up. "Get up," he ordered,
"We need to talk. Or rather I'll talk, you listen."
Jay licked his dry lips; usually Jack would wait until he at least did his
morning things before they talked, so this told him it was going to be both a
serious and very painful type of talk. "Yes sir," he said pulling himself
upright; he did his best not to squirm.
"You drove drunk last night." Jack's voice was glacial. "If you'd been stopped
on a first offence, it's an immediate 24 hour stand down from driving followed
by a 90 day stand down plus a $1000 fine." Jack glared at his Brat, "This is a
first offence, isn't it?"
"Yes sir," Jay said.
"Let's start the punishment with an alcohol ban. No drinking until I'm convinced
you can do it responsibly. I'll take all your vehicle keys for 90 days. If you
need a lift you can ask me. Any questions so far?
At first Jay thought Jack had lost his mind; however, if he had been caught the
90 day stand down would kill him if he could not see his Sweets. His bike would
have been impounded, and he would have lost his job. If he was to be on a 90 day
restriction, he'd rather do it with his Sweets beside him. "No sir," he said
moving a little to get the pressure off.
Jack saw the squirming and mentally kicked himself. "Go to the toilet if you
need," he said. "This isn't an endurance test." Once Jay was back, Jack moved
the discussion to the sofa. He had used the bathroom break to retrieve the
paddle which he placed on the coffee table. "You're also grounded for 3 months,"
he said. He held up a hand as Jay opened his mouth. "The length is actually up
to you," he said. "Completing writing assignments and lines could reduce it by a
month." Jack grinned wickedly, "Call it an incentive to get the work done. Other
behaviors can get it reduced. Sulking or tantrums can increase it but never more
than 3 months. You may even get it down as low as 2 weeks. Understand?"
When Jay saw the paddle he swallowed hard and his cheeks clenched. `At least
it's not the damn strap,' he thought. When he heard the rest of his sentence his
face fell with disbelief. He figured he'd get grounded but for three freaking
months. `Should have seen it coming. 90 days no driving equals 90 days no
leaving the loft,' he thought. "Yes sir I understand I may not like it, but I do
understand," he said, doing his best not to beg his way out of it.
Jack guessed his Brat hadn't taken in the details of his grounding but let it
alone, deciding that the paddle would leave enough of an impression. If it ever
happens again, or if you ever even think about drinking and driving I will use
the strap. Understand?"
Jay's body shivered; he hated the strap. He didn't even like seeing it coiled up
in the closet, lying on the shelf like a snake ready to strike. Jay stood with
his hands behind his back. Out of habit his index finger roughly scratched at
his thumb. He hated these small "Do you?" question and answer games Jack played
sometimes. At that moment the only answer was either `yes sir' or `no sir'.
Anything else could cause him more pain. He knew that and Jack would know it,
because no matter how much he protested, the grounding was going to happen with
or without him showing his displeasure. "Yes I understand," he told him. Before
Jack could ask any more questions he snapped, "How come you just don't beat me
shitless and black and blue like Shane or ….umm did?" Jay paused as he was about
to say the name Jack would not allow to be mentioned anywhere near him. "…. and
be done with it."
Jack was shocked. "Never going to happen," he protested. "If you're thinking
that is even an option we may need to look at the whole discipline aspect of our
relationship. Are you still okay with this?"
"Sweets don't say things like that. I know you'd never beat me shitless, it's
not in you. That's one of the reasons I love you so much. I love our
relationship the way it is and the way you fix things when I screw up. I knew I
should have called you; the only reason I didn't was because I didn't want to. I
wanted to show myself I was still the big guy on the bike that can handle his
alcohol. I never thought I could have been killed and left you alone," Jay said,
not realizing he was rambling.
"So you were aware of what you were doing?" Jack said his voice lowering.
"Driving drunk I mean. The not thinking of the consequences is an ongoing
problem. I'm hoping this paddling will drive home a message. I would never beat
you black and blue. Although I have no problem with a nice red butt."
Jay swallowed several times trying to get the lump in his throat to go away. He
hadn't realized the truth had just caused him more trouble. He looked down at
his lover, and closed his eyes. "Yes, I knew I would get punished for being
late, but no, I really didn't think about the consequences of driving drunk.
It's not like it's a recurring thing with me," he told him.
"I know," Jack replied. "And as for the truth causing you more trouble, you
couldn't have got any deeper." Jack knew his Brat's thought processes pretty
well by this stage in their relationship. It was a common complaint of Jay's. He
pulled his Brat across his lap and pulled the pajama pants down to reveal a
white butt. "I'm not asking you why you've ended up here," he informed his Brat.
"We've discussed it enough." He began to spank Jay.
Jay grabbed his pillow and bit into it. After the first couple of swat he
realized this was no warm up spanking. He tried to maneuver his ass out of the
way but wherever he moved the swat landed. Soon the grunts became oww, and the
owws became screams. "Jack please, oww, I'm sorry," he cried out as the swats
landed. He even tried to pull away. As the heat and the burn continued building
in the area of his backside and upper legs, he knew he would never be able to
handle the paddling after this was over. He knew begging would do no good.
"Jack… no…. drinking… promise… please Sweets, please stop." It was not beneath
him to try. When his voice became hoarse, he dropped his head back onto the
pillow and cried. He didn't care who heard him, he was only glad it was Sunday
and the other businesses were closed around.
Jack just held his brat until he calmed down. He'd gone pretty easy with the
paddle. Six swats had driven the message home. "Sweetheart," he murmured into
Jay's ear, "tell me what you understand are the conditions of your grounding."
Jay rubbed his face into Jack's shirt and, closing his eyes, he took a breath,
breathing in the scent of his Sweets. Moving just a little to get the pressure
off his scalded backside, he did his best to curl up into a ball. He didn't want
to talk, he just wanted to be held, and told that he was still loved after such
a screw up.
Taking a deep breath, he played with Jack's shirt. "No more drinking, no leaving
the loft except for work, no driving, skating, no hanging out with my friends. I
have to hand over all my keys to you, and I'm going to go bat shit crazy for 90
days." He stopped for a few minutes to think. "If I finish what you tell me to
write, and if I am on good behavior, I may or may not get a month off. If I ass
off, I'll get some added back on to what's been taken off if any. However, I'll
never get more than the original 90 days," he said, rubbing his face into Jack's
shirt once again. "Right?" he asked, looking up at his Sweets.
"I'm not sure about bat shit crazy," Jack chuckled, "But to refresh your memory,
I mentioned you could get it down to two weeks. I will keep the car keys for
three months, because that is what the court would have done. However you can
ask for them once the grounding is over, and I don't see there being grounds for
me to refuse. The alcohol ban will stay in place indefinitely, and I will join
you on the wagon. I couldn't handle losing you. I love you sweetheart." He
dragged Jay up in a desperate hug, making sure his brat's butt did not contact
Laying his head on his lover's shoulder, Jay hugged him back. "I don't want you
to lose me either, I love you too, my Sweets," he said with a smile. "I'm sorry
I didn't want to call," he told him, lightly kissing Jack's cheek, "But you
know, when I go bat shit crazy I am taking you down with me."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Jack replied laughing.