Disclaimer: This story contains corporal punishment / spanking of a young adult
Trials of an Era:1 - The First Offense
7-Pistol
Hohenheim arrived home late, much later than he would have preferred. Outside it was nearing midnight and the weather was growing cold and damp. The blanketing sky appeared cold, absent of cloud cover, and yet a certain moisture was carrying in the wind. Having lived in Munich for several months now, Hohenheim was confident it would rain.
Hohenheim unlocked his small apartment, entered, and left his shoes and coat at the door feeling the age and ache of this body. With sleep calling to him, he was internally disquieted, disturbed to the point of a nagging. Quietly he walked through the small dark parlor, past the closet sized kitchen, and to the bedroom he shared with his son. It was earlier that May Edward had arrived, out of no where, in the streets of Germany, fatigued, famished, and missing his right arm. He had crossed through the gate, this much both of them understood, but knowledge of fact was not acceptance, and learning to live in Germany was proving difficult for Ed.
Hohenheim lit the small bedroom desk lamp and it brought a soft glow to the bedroom. His son did not like the rising war, did not like the controversy, poverty, or discrimination the country was suffering. Edward naturally practiced the ideology of Amestris, and found socialism a ghastly fool's politic. Almost predictably this meant lying low and taking measures for subtle assimilation were things Ed fought tooth and nail. There had been several brawls between Ed and neighborhood acquaintances, because Edward saw the German population falling victim to radically condemning practices, and was unable to hold his tongue.
Hohenheim stepped up to the queen sized bed they were sharing, and considered Ed as he slept. The apartment did not have room for two twin beds, and with the complication of selling and purchasing furniture, they were making do with one for the time being.
Edward, at the age of eighteen, was buried under the bed's quilts and hugging his pillow with his hair in a high pony tail. The nightgown the boy wore was a bit big, and the linen flattered Ed's slender frame and hung clumsily on the false arm.
Ed had made off easy in his first neighborhood scuffle. The second left the boy with a limp and bruised jaw. The third a broken finger and black eye. Hohenheim did not approve of these barbaric and primitive means of dispute resolution, and he had told Ed so. They had talked about the occurrences, and after the last one, Ed had promised he would stay away from the West side of town where Germany's unemployed youths littered the streets, taking to petty crime, thievery, and small close knit bands of mischief. Similarly unemployed, Edward had taken a natural likeness to other boys his age and desired to stray toward the West of town. However, having Edward identified as riff-raff, and possibly against the developing social party in Germany, made life difficult in every way. It became harder to assume goods and live peacefully during a period of time Hohenheim suspected would become dangerously less peaceful as the years ticked by. So Edward had promised to stay on the Eastern side in an effort to aid their existence in close quarters with angry German faces. He agreed to stop his adolescent rebellion, stop trying to educate the German population, and keep his head down, as it was best.
Standing along side the low bed, with Ed snoring softly, Hohenheim was left chewing over the very fact bothering him: Edward had been in the West side of town today. He had been informed a large brawl had broken out on the main intersection, and that Edward was apart of the masses.
This meant two very significant things, the first, that Edward broke his existing promise, and the second, that Edward was going to lie to him. Though this had not happened yet, Hohenheim felt certain when he asked Edward about his day, that Edward's dealings in the West side of town would slip the boys mind and go unmentioned.
Hohenheim reached down and gave Ed's flesh shoulder a shake. Ed woke from sleep with a small twitch and cracked his eyes only enough to see his pillow before yawning and muffling a soft, "I am sleeping in."
"Edward." Hohenheim gave Ed's shoulder a second shake when Ed hugged his pillow tighter. "Son." He lowered the blanket on Ed's shoulders. "Where were you today?"
Ed was waking up slowly and curled his expression with an irritated, "Why?"
"Edward, I am asking you where you were today."
Ed lifted his tired gaze to Hohenheim and frowned. "Why aren't you dressed for bed old man?" Ed pushed himself up, and gave his lips a slow distracted lick before glancing at the dark bedroom window. "What the, it's late Hohenheim," Ed complained, gesturing to the black of night. Hohenheim kept a stoic expression. He was not going to be distracted from his question, and Ed gave a miserable sigh, and admitted a sour, "Around."
"Where exactly?"
Ed rolled his eyes and flopped back down to his pillow. "Well I tried to find some work but, as I have no experience and no credentials, that didn't go so well. Then I went down to that dilapidated sink hole they call the park and read. The German people really have a lot of problems Hohenheim, now get in bed, I am tired."
"So you remained on our side of town, the Eastern side?"
Ed gave a soft nod, before muttering, "Than don't get in bed, but I am going back to sleep."
"That's a lie Edward," Hohenheim said, dissatisfaction heavy in his voice.
Ed didn't move. His eyes stared down at his pillow, before softly he said, "No it's not."
"You understand why it is dangerous for you to make yourself widely recognized as vulgar to the progression of the times here Edward," Hohenheim said, citing the root of their previous discussions. "I will not permit your lies," he said, a tone of irritated warning in his voice.
"I am not lying."
Hohenheim felt a bit of heat rise up in his cheeks with the boldness of Edward's dishonesty. He was not a parent seeking much loving acceptance or respect, but this level of direct deceit was offensively arrogant.
Ed had his back to Hohenheim, and he rolled slightly and frowned up at the towering figure of his father. "Do we need to do this now?" Ed asked irritably. "In the middle of the night?" Ed was looking more awake and pointed again to the dark window. "You couldn't have waited to ask me where I've been over breakfast like a normal person Hohenheim?"
"I find your level of insolence disheartening Edward. I am being direct with you, extending to you an adult courtesy, and you're lying boldly to my face."
"Well I said I am not lying."
Hohenheim lifted a hand and rubbed it down his sinuses. Ed was not going to confess. He was smart enough to know confession would bring a wealth of scolding, and with no proof suggesting otherwise, thought it best to be discrete. What Edward did not know, was that one of their local patrol men, an officer by the name of Hughes, for some reason took an interest in the boy Hohenheim could not understand. The man had reported Edward's actions to Hohenheim that night, catching Hohenheim on his stroll home, and expressed, for nearly thirty minutes, his concerns. The were valid concerns for a German man whose ambition seemed aligned with the socialist party. Hohenheim had given false speech, attesting to his own, and Edward's, support for what they found to be radical socialist views, and promised Hughes he would better look after his son.
These words had haunted Hohenheim for the remainder of his walk home. Look after his son. In Amestris this meant a good talking to, and in Germany this meant a good thrashing, and somehow Hohenheim felt strangely comfortable entertaining the idea Edward needed a combination of the two. He was a boy from both worlds, and as such, needed a punishment from both.
Hohenheim gave a heavy sigh and lowered his hand from his face. "Edward, by lying to me, you insult my intelligence, your intelligence, and our relationship." He tried to explain this to the boy.
"Fine," Ed muttered, rolling back over and snuggling into his pillow. "Now I am going back to sleep."
"I won't tolerate this Edward," Hohenheim said. He moved his hand to his belt, slipping his thumb behind the firm leather and feeling the heft of it. It felt right. "You are still my son," he said firmly. Ed was silent, and ignored this until Hohenheim began to unfasten his belt and the metal buckle gave a familiar and recognizable clanking as it unlatched.
Ed rolled back and looked to the sound with muddled confusion, before correctly interpreting the unspoken action taking place, and sliding out the other side of the bed.
"Now wait just a damned minute," Ed said, climbing free of the bed, and raising to his feet shivering in the drafty room. Ed's bangs were slightly a mess, but the pony tail was where it should be. "You can do that back up, because before you get any crazy parental ideas in your head Hohenheim, we can just put this all in perspective!" Ed was a thin ghost in his nightgown, and the boy pointed at the rude unfastened belt, before tossing his hand aside angrily. "I am eighteen!" Hohenheim ignored this and pulled his belt off. "I am not four! And I think you lost a lot of your fatherly rights when you turned your back on me and ran!"
"I was informed by a police officer of your actions today," Hohenheim said softly, solemn. "You are making the German authority worrisome, and I gave lengthy false testimony in your favor to deceive them."
"You made that decision yourself!"
"No, I made it as your father to protect you." Hohenheim kept his voice level, and tried viciously to ignore the anger welling inside him. If he was going to do this, than he was going to do it right, and focus on the moral and not his anger. "I do not expect to come home and have you give willful lies in answer to my questions when you do not wish to face the consequences of your actions Edward. That is the behavior of a four year old, and you promised to steer clear of the West side."
"They have alchemy books over there!" Ed said, tone moving to wild defensiveness. So the truth was coming out.
"Now you admit going there."
"I wasn't there for long," Ed said sourly. "But I want to see them." Hohenheim took a step forward and reached to clasp Ed's arm, but Ed jolted to the side with a sharp, "Back away!"
Hohenheim reached again, and without much effort, successfully snatched Ed's flesh arm in a tight grip. "You're acting like a four year old now," Hohenheim said, scolding Ed's angry face. "Lying and trying to run away like a child who's been caught and doesn't want to face it." Ed's eyes widened. "It's been years since I've given you a good spanking Edward, but I am not so old or absent I can't see when you need one." He pulled the boy to him, but Ed was fighting, shoving, and struggling.
"Forget it!" Ed screamed. Hohenheim sat down on the bed and attempted to drag Ed over his lap, but Ed fought this furiously. "Hohenheim, no way! I am not going over your knee anymore!" Ed cried, throwing his hands to the top of Hohenheim's thighs, and trying to push back with the heels he had rooted downward. "You're way out of line here!" Ed cried, wiggling, but in the end, Edward was still just a boy, and Hohenheim was a man. Careful of Edward's willowy frame, Hohenheim used the immense strength in his arms and took the weight from Ed's legs, removing his stability, and planting Ed face forward. In a blink, before Edward could utter a single word of protest, he found himself bent over his father's lap like the disobedient boy he did not want to admit to being. "You honestly want me to sit by and ignore it!" Ed yelled to the floor. "When there is a possibility I might get home!" Ed was squirming nervously.
"Edward, that is not the answer, I have told you that. They have one book with barely a page of anything you'd recognize as alchemy."
"I still want to see it." Ed confessed miserably. He was feeling the fool in his position, and blushing hotly toward the unfinished wood floor. Hohenheim had a strong upper hand on him, and for the moment he was keeping still, fighting for any dignity to this position when plainly, there was none. This was how you spanked a small child, and perched over Hohenheim's knee, Ed was caught in mortified suspense as to whether or not he would be. "They won't let me look at anything unless they trust me, so I have to keep going there!"
Hohenheim set a hand in Ed's hair and stroked it through the boy's bangs. "We could have talked about this Edward."
"You won't listen." Ed grumbled.
"More lies?" Hohenheim asked, with a faint smile. He did listen. In fact he made special effort to listen to Edward because the boy was so much of a mystery to him. Another person entirely, born of his own blood, but foreign to him, with opinions and thoughts that came at random, and with fierce intensity. "You know I do listen to you," Hohenheim said softly, and Ed was stubbornly silent with agreement. "Now, as you have not been chastised in many years, we won't use the belt." Hohenheim set it aside. "That's for much stronger offenses." He slid his hand down Ed's back to the slender bottom he hadn't seen in years. Ed flinched, and tried to jerk free the same way he did when he was younger. "Last time if I do recall," Hohenheim said, giving a brief chuckle. "I pulled your little shorts down and you started crying."
Ed did not see the humor in this. "That do it for you?" Ed sneered. "Manhandling your own son?"
"You have an amazingly resilient attitude considering your position." Hohenheim gave Ed's soft linen backside a pat. "Think about that. Right now I am sure your logical mind can see why I have you put you here."
"I shouldn't have lied." Ed's tone was saturated with sour frustration and embarrassment. "I know that Germany is dangerous, and I know I promised, but I didn't really have an alterative."
"One always has an alterative. Do you think you deserve this spanking?"
"No!" Ed cried, outraged.
"Are you sure?" Hohenheim asked calmly. "Your answer might change mine."
"Are you ser—are you serious Hohenheim!" Ed said, looking over his own shoulder to meet Hohenheim's eyes. Ed knew he was no match in strength, and tried to keep his movement deliberate, with no squirming. Ed understood squirming would only make things worse by emphasizing his vulnerability while stuck on his stomach. "Are you seriously asking me to answer that?" Hohenheim was silent. "Do I want you to humiliate the shit out of me, let me think," Ed said sarcastically, giving a mock frown of intense concentration before the sudden eyebrow lifting excitement of discovery , "No, I am pretty sure the answer is no."
"The question was if you deserved one, not if you wanted one."
Ed went silent and returned his face toward the floor. Hohenheim understood it would be harder for Ed to lie to himself, than to toss lies to others, and after a long pause, Ed gave a fussy shift of his weight, and muttered a small sound of frustration.
Even as a boy Hohenheim remembered that Ed largely detested being spanked. Like any small child he revered them with a certain amount of understandable dread, but there was more. Ed was insulted by the act, even while to young to understand longitudes and latitudes or to spell the word perfunctory. Now at the age of eighteen, nearly eighteen and a half, resting over your father's lap for a spanking, being told you were going to have one, and lying in wait, was a humiliating experience. Edward was mortified. His stomach had locked up, and he was glad Alphonse wasn't here to come running from the next room and see him in this degrading position. Still, did he deserve one? That answer was clear, he lied, broke his promise, and kept on lying until he was caught red handed. He understood all that Hohenheim had previously emphasized to him. That he had no proper paperwork, that imprisonment came without just trial, and that the growing Germany party was ruthless, and killed. He had promised, in what was really a joint effort to keep them both safe, to stop making waves. To keep himself from being a youthful radical that other currents wanted to silence. Deliberately doing what he had said he would not do, when he understood the dangers, and than lying to cover himself, how did you even begin to argue that away? Ed didn't know where to begin to start, but he knew he wanted up and off Hohenheim's knee.
"Your silence tells me you know you deserve one," Hohenheim said, when it became unclear if Ed would ever find an argument to return with. Hohenheim laid his palm across Ed's flat cheeks and gave them a precursory rub.
Ed grunted with disgust and clenched his cheeks defiantly. He wanted this touching to stop, and with intense disfavor had to consider dropping some of his pride, telling Hohenheim what he wanted to hear, and attempting to weasel out of this before it went on any longer. If he gave in a little, he might win out in a big way.
"I guess I do," Ed muttered.
"Do What?"
"Deserve one."
"Deserve what?"
"Stop dicking around Hohenheim," Ed snapped, giving an angry shuffle. Hohenheim used the palm across Ed's bottom to land a soft painless pat, but the message was clear. Ed became nervous, went silent, and then squirmed uncomfortably. "I—guess, what I meant to say was that, I guess I do deserve a..." Ed was choking on the word. He didn't want to say it, didn't want to hear it! Quickly he took a deep breath, clenched his eyes tight to hide from his own awkwardness, and while exhaling, blurted a fast, "Guess I do deserve a spanking." Ed took a second large breath. "For lying, okay? …for lying, I knew that was wrong, you know."
"Than we're in agreement." Hohenheim reached down and took hold of the bottom of Ed's linen gown and dragged it up the boy's thighs.
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" Ed cried, kicking when his soft slender thighs and small short covered backside became exposed. "You said! You said! Aren't you going to change your mind now!" Ed cried, wiggling helplessly. Hohenheim rested the collected fabric of Ed's nightgown on the middle of his back, and Ed's hands moved to Hohenheim's pant leg and took a tight angry grip. "What happened to—what happened to me saying—I mean, aren't you going to change your mind now, dammit!"
"No, I think you deserve this son," Hohenheim said, letting his displeasure enter his voice. "You deserve a bit of chastising for this irresponsible and disrespectful behavior, and you know that to be true." Hohenheim kept a strong scolding tone, so this message would not be missed, and Ed was shaking his head and muttering to himself. "Now we'll start small and then we'll see how you feel about it. This is something we haven't done in years, and I think slow would be best for us both." Ed gave the floor an irritated smack, and seethed a rough breath down to the old dry boards. Hohenheim felt the boy stiffen entirely, going rigid as if to toughen his rear. Mildly humored Hohenheim considered Ed's short covered bottom. Germany's linen boxers were a thin dainty material, and it was easy to well a bit of fabric into his grasp and tug it upward. There was no polite way to do it, he was giving Ed a wedgie in order to expose the bottom skin of his son's cheeks, and Ed squirmed.
"Oh, come on! Just leave them alone!" Ed snapped, wiggling. Successfully positioned, Hohenheim laid his hand on the unclothed skin of Ed's helpless cheeks, and began a brisk spanking, slapping from right to left.
Ed clenched his cheeks into two stones, and didn't utter a sound.
"How long has it been son?" Hohenheim asked spanking efficiently.
"Years." Ed said, defiantly keeping still to refute the punishment. As a man, Hohenheim understood this course of action. It was the same one he took as a boy, and it was the only one available to you, when left facing nothing but the consequences of unwise actions you knew to be unwise from the beginning. You had to put up a strong front, and insist, for as long as possible, that you could outlast your just-desserts, when the act of chastising was designed to foil that exact plan.
"Why were you in this position last time?" Hohenheim asked, unable to recall.
Ed squeaked out a soft, "Pushed," grunted a sound of struggling endurance, and took a deep composing breath before finishing with, "Pushed Alphonse."
Yes, Hohenheim remembered now. The boys were fighting and after the verbal argument Ed ran after his brother and pushed him down. This was during what Trisha referred to as Ed's hitting-and-shoving phase, and they were actively working to curve this behavior. Much of this was done with repeated instructing to not hit or shove, and coaching toward other tactics to deal with frustration.
"Yes, I remember," Hohenheim said, continuing a steady beat with his hand. He remembered Alphonse's loud wailing as the boy sat in the dirt, and how triumphant Ed's six year old face had looked until he realized he was caught. Then Ed was hushing Alphonse aggressively, before denying he'd done anything to upset the boy. Ed was adamant he found Alphonse crying, but Alphonse, being five, pointed at his older brother and sobbed out a loud, he-pushed-me-into-the-dirt-and-it-hurts!
"So it was lies then too," Hohenheim said, amused.
Ed was now flinching with each slap, with a healthy glow to his cheeks, but angrily he muttered a bitter, "Huh, guess this really isn't…" Ed paused to wince, "…and effect…ive…method of…" Ed's voice was strained. "…teaching…kids any…thing."
Hohenheim stopped his blows, and rubbed his palm about Ed's hot skin with a knowing smile. "Is that so?" he asked. Ed had been stubborn and prideful since birth, and as inconveniencing as these traits could be at times, Hohenheim took them warmly to heart, because they were his son. "Edward, you don't sound convinced you're over my lap for a reason." Ed was annoyed with this, and shifted his weight with a bit of discomfort, and blew a long hissing breath through his teeth. The boy's rump gave a gentle shiver when the rubbing began, tolerating the painful motion, because although it hurt, it stopped the piercing sting. "I think I've approached this the wrong way."
"So do I," Ed snapped.
"Up." Hohenheim ordered, lifting his hands from Ed's back and rear. Ed didn't need to hear this twice. He scrambled up, correcting his shorts and pushing his nightgown back down. Immediately once corrected Ed reached back to rub, but Hohenheim snatched the boy's hand.
"No," Hohenheim said firmly. "That's not why I let you up."
"I am not done!" Ed asked, flabbergasted.
"I don't think you're hearing my message well Edward. You're still too frustrated, and I want your spanking to reinforce my concern, and your correction, do you understand?"
Ed was deaf to this and sputtered out, "How am I not done!"
Hohenheim felt a bit of agitation awaken inside him. He didn't think the principles of this lesson were too much for Ed, so it meant the boy wasn't focusing, and angrily he said. "Your punishment will not be over until you fully understand why you're being punished." He stood up quickly, and Ed's jaw dropped. "And until you start applying more mental focus Edward, it appears you will have a very length punishment indeed."
Ed was furious. "I have been listening to you! And I let you wrestle me over and slap my ass, now I just want to get back in bed Hohenheim! I don't appreciate being treated like a two year old."
Standing at eighteen and arguing, it took Hohenheim a moment longer to realize what he needed to do than it did back when Ed was six, and his arguments sounded like nonsense from the first word. Now Ed had some skill at talking around obstacles, and as soon as Hohenheim recognized this deflection he grasped Ed's shoulders and spun the boy around to face the wall.
Ed was so startled he went silent, but before he could ask, Hohenheim answered with a, "Yes, it seems you need some of your other childhood punishments as well Edward." Standing in the corner, or standing at the wall, was mom's discipline, but Hohenheim certainly knew how to use it. "I think before we can continue, you need some time to think about things, now stand silently while I ready myself to retire."
"Stand silently!" Ed exploded. "Are you out of your mind! I am not taking a time-out!" That was Trisha's expression for it, taking a time-out. "I am eighteen!"
Hohenheim stepped to the door, and although angry, Ed didn't move from the position he had been placed in with things looking so precarious. "You will, Edward, because it seems you need to," Hohenheim said, tone nothing to sneeze at. "I expect you to heed my words, stand as I have directed, and think about things, so that our discussion can be more fruitful upon my return. If you think that's asking too much, we can attempt to compensate this portion of your discipline by beating it into your rear, now what do you say?"
Ed's eyes were the size of saucers, and he opened his mouth to answer, before wisely shutting it.
"Good," Hohenheim said, leaving to the lavatory.
Hohenheim took his time washing his face, and leaving the day's clothing Germany had brushed with damp snow and public filth from the streets for something fresher. When he returned to the bedroom, predictably Edward was still taking his time-out at the wall. Now angry, Ed has his arms firmly crossed over his chest, and Hohenheim fought the smile that tried to escape across his lips when he caught sight of the boy.
"Laugh it up." Ed sneered, turning to look back over his shoulder His expression was dark with agitation, but his bangs were lifted from their brief reversed positioning, and they moved in joyful whips about Ed's face.
"Now Edward," Hohenheim said, beginning seriously. "Are you ready to tell me why you're standing there?"
"I already said because I lied and shouldn't have!"
"And do you think you've been punished accordingly?"
Ed's mouth began to speak, but Ed snapped it shut before he could utter a single word. No, the answer to that was an obvious no. Even Ed recognized those few hot swats weren't anything. He wasn't an idiot when he made his choices, he weighed his pros and cons, and the pro was entering the West side of town with the con split between a fifty-fifty wager: being caught, or not being caught. So today he was caught, fine, and Hohenheim just happened to be this mad about it, fine, but if the scenario was made like a science equation than, Angry Hohenheim + Lies = chastisement, and while Ed was certain Hohenheim was displeased, and that he had lied, he was also certain he'd been punished even lighter than his younger self would have been. There hadn't been many occasions, and they weren't exactly memories Ed frequented or even wanted, but there was no denying they had occurred. Ed had been under Hohenheim's spanking hand before, he remembered it at age five, six, and seven, and knew that spankings hurt. This spanking did not hurt, this spanking was obnoxious.
"Ed?" Hohenheim prompted.
"Yes." Ed lied.
Hohenheim lifted a slow eyebrow. "You do?" he asked. Ed nodded. "You're certain?" Ed confirmed with more nodding, before a look of panic washed over Ed's face on sight of the anger washing through Hohenheim's. "I am appalled," Hohenheim said fiercely. He stepped forward and snatched Ed's arm, and Ed broke into worried speech.
"I answered your questions!" Ed yelled, beginning the same struggle while going back over Hohenheim's knee. The outcome was the same, and Ed's squirming was positioned easily under Hohenheim's strength. Ed landed on his stomach with a rough breath, and found his nose inches from the floor. "Come on!" Ed protested, kicking when Hohenheim pulled his nightgown back up, and followed with a harsh upward yank on his shorts. Despite himself Ed muttered a soft, "Ugh," with how uncomfortable it was to have the fabric suddenly tight and constricting, before realizing that Hohenheim was making foreign movements. The man leaned forward and reached to something on the floor, and Ed looked back over his shoulder, trying to see.
Hohenheim reached to his left food and took off his slipper. "Edward, we'll try the slipper out on your lies and see if that doesn't work better," he said, aligning the flexible rubber sole to the soft pink flesh of Ed's sit spots, before bringing it down hard. A slipper was very different from a flesh palm, and Ed jerked harshly with the sudden sting. Hohenheim didn't give Ed time to digest, he moved quickly, the same way he did with his hand, and Ed felt the warmth of his previous swats return to full heat and swell.
The rubber sole left a hot itchy burn after impact, and Ed growled out a soft, "Ow," after a minute of the slaps bouncing from left to right. Bright red marks were blooming on Ed's cheeks, and Ed bowed his head downward clenching his hands into fists and groaned toward the floor. "Mm, ow, ah, ow."
"Rather a sharp sting, isn't it son," Hohenheim said, continuing. Ed was stiff as a board and bent like an A-frame. His breathing was becoming fast, and his hands and feet began a slow relief-seeking grind against the dry floorboards. It was obvious the spanking was painful, and that Ed was feeling it, but Hohenheim didn't find that alone satisfactory. Ed was pushing the limits, more so than Hohenheim had anticipated, and to squelch the desire to break our future promises, Hohenheim wanted to strongly remind Ed what it was like in his youth, where lies meant a sore bottom.
Hohenheim took the slipper's playful rubber down Ed's right thigh a few slaps, up his left, and finish the motion on the crest of Ed's ruby cheeks, causing Ed to yell.
"Okay!" Ed cried out, giving a fast wiggle." Ow! Okay! Okay!" Ed's waist broke into sudden jitters, wiggling erratically from side to side. Hohenheim increased the strength of his blows to Ed's cheeks, and the fiery pain exploded. "Ow! OW! Okay! Hohenheim! OW!" Ed felt his body begin kicking, and he tossed a hand back in an effort to protect his cheeks. "Ow—oh ow!" Ed grew wild, squirming spastically, and Hohenheim looped an arm about Ed's waist and secured him tight. He yanked Ed's backside up, and the strength of his swats to such soft heated red skin had Ed crying out. "Okay! Okay! Okay!" Ed cried repeatedly. His half covered cheeks were beat red, and all of them on fire. His deceitful bottom was pulsing in anguish making him jerk and wiggle and flail over Hohenheim's lap the same way he had when just a child. Suddenly he was reduced to his five year old self, and when tears emerged, and pricked at Ed's eyes he panicked. His sight went blurry and the very idea he was going to be reduced to a crying whining child being spanked over his father's lap, brought his stomach to a nauseous clench. No! Ed's mind screamed. This can't happen!
"Okay!" Ed screamed, voice lifting to a new and very frantic pitch. "Okay! Please stop now!" The pain in his bottom was tight, stinging straight to his core, and making his body leap around to stop it. It was a dozen hornet stings, zapping the cherry bottoms of his cheeks were the brutal slipper was hammering. "Stop!" Ed begged. "Before I start crying, please!"
Hohenheim stopped. With the slipper in mid swing, he stalled, and Ed went limp, gasping relief, and whining to himself.
"Yes…please…" Ed whined, toward the floor, continuing a slow and delicate squirm of his rear. "Please stop."
Hohenheim lowered the slipper and set it on the bed. "Okay son," he said softly, considering Ed's burning skin. "I've stopped. Take a moment."
Ed was staring at the floor with his eyes full of tears and his bottom lip wobbling. He had firmed his lips as much as he thought able, and was clenching his hands against the floor trying to piece himself together. The reality of what he had just become frightened him. Was that it? Did nine years amount to nothing? For all he had done, could he still be bent over a knee and spanked to tears? What about the automail surgery! The military training! The bastard colonel! The Homunculus! All of it, nothing? He buckled under a bit of spanking?
Hohenheim broke through Ed's musings with a casual, "Do you feel ready to answer me now?"
Ed released a slow shaky breath, and closed his eyes. Hohenheim was waiting patiently, watching Ed try to regain composure, and sensitive not to push the boy. "Edward?" He pet his hand across Ed's red cheeks, and Ed shuttered and hissed. "Why are you in need of such strict discipline?" Hohenheim asked.
Ed gurgled a watery sound of misery. Was he supposed to answer that! Verbalize his transgression and then justify the toddler's punishment that made him sick by admitting he deserved it!
"Son?" Hohenheim asked, sensing Ed's turmoil and determined to push through it. "Answer me."
"I," Ed squeaked, before swallowing stiffly. Forcing his Adam's apple down and feeling his cold dry throat ache. "Can I get up?" Ed whispered. Hohenheim was surprised with this request and was silently considering when Ed added, "Please? Can I?" Ed was not generous with his manners, and begging was not frequent. Hohenheim felt confident Ed was taking this to heart, when he heard those small words whisper up to him. He took one last look at Ed's blazing red bottom, and lifted his hands.
Ed climbed up quickly, correcting his shorts and nightgown with the same frantic fluffing of fabrics he had done before, before meeting Hohenheim's eyes with a face as red as his rear. Ed's eyes were wide and bright with tears, wavering unsteadily between vicious anger, and the desire for reassurance and comfort.
"It's all right Edward," Hohenheim said softly. He recognized the old lived struggle, and sat passive, without movement, to grant Ed time to unwind. Ed was swaying slightly, shifting his weight from either foot, in what looked to be an unconscious mannerism of distress. "Let me know when you're ready to answer my question. I can wait."
Ed's nose lifted, wrinkling his expression, and his brow dropped, scowling into a tight frown. "I lied to you about my whereabouts," Ed confessed quickly. "That's why I was being disciplined. I lied." Ed paused for a hard swallow. "I weakened our…" he sputtered, unsure how to classify them before managing with, "…our arrangement, and I apologize."
"You apologize?" Hohenheim asked. Ed nodded quickly."How do you feel about your continuous lies?" He stood, and Ed's eyes followed him.
"Shouldn't have," Ed blurted, looking worried with the sudden movement, and wealth of Hohenheim's height. "Shouldn't have done it." Ed shook his head. "Won't—won't do it again."
"You also broke your promise."
"Shouldn't have," Ed said, just as quickly. Hohenheim took a step from the bed to disengage and end what they were doing, but Ed panicked. "I—I!" Ed fumbled, moving away a few steps. "I shouldn't have, okay! What more can I say!" Ed shrugged his shoulders elaborately. "I don't know how else to say it!" Ed gestured wildly to the bed. "Why'd you get up, huh! To punish me some more! What for! Do I have to have more time-out!" Hohenheim was shocked. He was astonished with Ed's frenetic actions, and lifted his arms to embrace the boy, but Ed couldn't interpret the action. He flinched away and said, "Fine! Then just stop stalling and do it!"
Hohenheim closed his arms about Ed's rigid form, and the boy went up like a board.
"Edward, get a hold of yourself," Hohenheim said kindly, resting his chin on the top of Ed's head. "You've apologized, it's no longer right for me to continue disciplining you. I think you've learned your lesson here." He gave Ed's back a single reassuring swat, and Ed sputtered a breath of relief.
"I—we're—this is over?"
"Yes son." Hohenheim chuckled. "You're forgiven." Ed relaxed, letting his shoulders sag, and his head tip back relaxing on his neck. "But I am taking this lesson very serious, and I want you to know that. If you lie to me again or break agreements we make, I am not going to hesitate to chastise you, and I will not always be so lenient." Ed was silent, muddled with dread and alarm over future punishments, while battling confidence he wouldn't get himself into such scrapes. It was mind-boggling, and beneath it all there was anger Hohenheim rashly decided upon such a new way of life for them.
Hohenheim could sense Ed thinking and said, "Understand Ed, I will be harsh if you need it. I will not hesitate."
"Okay," Ed mumbled, eager for this discussion to end. "I gotcha, crystal clear."
Hohenheim smiled, and stepped back. "I feel this has brought us a bit closer," he confessed. He stroked a hand into Ed's hair, and Ed's eyes were trained on him but the boy looked lost. "We have to work as a team while here in Germany, and neither of us can sabotage this with poor behavior." Ed was silent, and much of him wanted to initiate the hug again. "I have your back, that is my promise to you, I need to know you have mine."
"Okay," Ed said softly, giving a rough sniffle. Ed took a few steps into the room and rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "I am—just gonna, you know," Ed said, giving his eyes a quick wipe, "go splash some water on my face." Ed left quickly, and Hohenheim heard the old porcelain lavatory sink spit a rough gush of water down to the drain before drizzling smoothly as Ed used it.
In Ed's absence, Hohenheim climbed into bed. He corrected the blankets the bit they had rumpled, and opened Ed's side, so when the boy returned, he climbed in easily.
Ed snuggled back into bed, still looking a bit frazzled, but for the most part calm. He took a tight needy grip on his pillow and curled up, causing Hohenheim to chuckle.
"Go to sleep son," Hohenheim said, tucking the blankets in about Ed's shoulders with the boy sniffling and fidgeting. "We're both going to need to sleep in tomorrow."
"Okay," Ed muttered, closing his eyes obediently, and rolling over to face the room with a heavy sigh. "Good night Hohenheim."
"Goodnight Ed."
...Well everyone, here is my first Hohenheim/Ed piece for ffnet. Hope you liked it!
The title of this story, identifies a 'Series,' for a string of stories. I am classifying Hohenheim/Ed pairing spanking stories, from this time period within "Trials of an Era." This story was only partially done, when I had a story-request come in, and I have decided…with such a scenario-possible time period for FMA spanking, I would create a series. I can totally see more of these in the future.
However, for the time being, coming soon will be, "Trials of an Era:2 - Room with a View," gift wrapped and dedicated to the wonderful wonderful FluffPuffNuff. (You rock!)
Please leave a review and let me know what you think! It's always great to hear your thoughts when a new pairing goes up.
[Note: I actively take story plot requests, and those I complete are classified as "Gift Wrapped." Check out my profile for more details.]
