I own nothing except some original characters I sometimes bring in. Kelley Armstrong owns The Otherworld and all the wonderful information there.

*Warning there is corporal punishment in this fic. This is the first time I have written anything like this and I am still a little hesitant about it. During the time Nick was raised and when many of us were raised this type of punishment was perfectly fine, not so nowadays but in the 60's right through to the 90's it was the norm. Tell me what you think. I can change it if I need to.

Spare the Rod

I clutched my report card in my hand nervously. I crumpled it and un-crumpled it again and looked down at the now crumpled yellowing pages in my hand. The comments were alright all in all but the comments were not the problem.

Nicholas is a bright boy who shares nicely and is always willing to help someone.

Nick has been doing well and with more work he will get better in this subject.

Nicky is always smiling and happy making the other students happy. He is a joy to have in the classroom.

But my grades were a problem I had done alright in English getting a B and gym getting a B+, my best grade yet, but the rest of them were not good, Math F, Science D and in Social Studies a D-. My poppa and my father had warned me I needed to get better grades on this report card or I couldn't go with my father on his trip to Germany this summer. I quickly shoved my report card in my bag as a familiar Mercedes stopped at the curb to pick me up.

"Hi Nicky," my cousin Jorge greeted leaning over and opening the back door for me. I gratefully climbed in. I was nervous about going home but I was always happy to leave school, it was worse kind of prison and punishment I could think of.

"Hi Jorge, hi Uncle Greg," I greeted. I climbed into the back seat throwing my bag on the leather seats beside me and buckled my belt.

"Hi," my uncle said and then went back to being silent. Uncle Greg had an accident with a mutt a while back that killed my other cousin and ever since he's been different. He wanders around a lot and he can hardly ever be left alone but Jorge has taken it upon himself to stay with his dad rather than work in the family business. Poppa was happy with this as it eliminated the need to find other help.

We drove in silence with Uncle Greg playing with the radio, he could never find a station but I was used to that and lost in my own thoughts anyway. Finally we got back to Sorrentino Estates. I grabbed my book bag and flung open my door racing inside as soon as we were parked. I hoped my poppa and my father would be home. I raced into the house ahead of my uncle and cousin calling out but only silence answered.

I sighed and walked slowly up the stairs and down the hallway to my room dumping my blazer and shoes along the way. I usually left my book bag inside the front door but today it had a secret and I needed to keep it close. I closed the door to my room and then hauled the bag onto my bed shoving comic books and toys aside. My father told me to clean my messy room last weekend but I got busy and he was busy anyway and didn't even check.

I took the report card from my bag and raced to my closet running inside; it was almost as big as my bedroom. I ran to the end and shoved my report card under a stack of books before coming into the room and thumping down on the bed grabbing a new comic book and reading through it. I loosened my tie now and threw it across the room. It landed on the door handle; I also loosened my shirt but didn't bother changing into my casual clothes as I was supposed to.

"Nicky," I heard a while later breaking through my concentration. I jumped up from my day dreaming and raced from the room almost running into my father who held my blazer and shoes. His big grin greeted me as usual after work.

"Nicky," he grinned as I hugged his legs. I was a bit tall for my age, already a head above Clay but I still only came up to my father's waist. He picked me up easily and kissed my head tickling my ribs and hugging me to him.

"What have I told you about leaving your clothes around? What has poppa told you?" he asked finally. I sighed hating the never ending clothes battle.

"Clothes are supposed to be left in my room or in the laundry room," I said. He chuckled and threw me on my bed as he set the clothes on my dresser and looked around perturbed at the mess.

"Nicholas, I asked you to clean up this mess last weekend," he said. I bit my lip and looked around. The full use of my name was always a bad sign when dealing with my father.

"Dad, it's not like you have to sleep here," I shrugged hoping this tactic would work. But as usual the logic of a child seldom changed the mind of an adult.

"Nicholas," my father warned. I hung my head at his tone shuffling my feet and looking at a black school sock knowing I was crossing the line which was usually hard with my father.

"Sorry," I mumbled. He stood in the doorway with arms crossed. For the most part my father and poppa were good natured and we always joked around but when it came to respect and manners there were no second chances. If I was disrespectful I was punished no matter what.

"No supper until this mess is cleaned up and I'm checking before then," he said. Turning he left the room and shut the door. I grumbled and started picking up an arm load of clothes. I opened the laundry chute in my room and dumped them all down. I picked up books and comics and stacked them on my desk. I placed my bag near the wall and picked up crumbled paper throwing them away. I picked up toys and arranged them on shelves and dressers and made the bed at least passably and looked around. This seemed good enough to me so hopefully it was good enough for them. Besides they never had to clean their rooms.

I shrugged at the half clean room and left racing down the hall and into my father's room. Without knocking I burst in and saw he was sitting on the bed and looking at something which he promptly hid as I ran in. I had caught him with this before, I knew it was a picture of a woman but I wasn't sure who she was and I had never been able to take it from dad's wallet before because he kept it close.

"Dad, I cleaned my room," I announced smiling. He looked over at me for a moment with I look I didn't recognize. Longing, regret and maybe frustration but he quickly he turned on his bright smile at seeing me turning back into the father I knew.

"Good Nicky, but remember knocking from now on," he lectured. I nodded as we heard the dinner bell. He picked me up suddenly and tickled my sides. I struggled in laughter which made him sling me over his shoulder and carry me like a cave man to dinner. I always liked this about my dad, he loved to tease me and tickle me, not like a lot of people's father's I knew.

"Poppa," I cried as we entered to the dining room. He was there reading the paper and as soon as my father put me down I raced up to him. He picked me up setting me on his lap and held me out looking me over.

"There's my Nicky," he grinned. I turned as he hugged me drinking in his musky scent. I heard my father sit on the other side of us. My poppa and my father had very different scents. My poppa smelt more like a forest whereas my father smelt more like water and the river near our home. No werewolf in his right mind wore any extra scents so they could use their full senses and this was the same for my family. There were still underlines scents that indicated we were all related.

"How was work poppa?" I asked and he chucked brushing off my question as usual. Work was for grownups and play was for children, the two worlds didn't mix and so I would not know a lot about the family business until I grew up.

Supper was served then and Jorge and Gregory came in and sat at their places. Poppa finally hoisted me off his lap and I took my place beside my father. When the pack met we kids had to sit at the kids table but when it was just me and my family I sat with them at the big dining room table. "No Nicky," my poppa suddenly said. I had only picked up my fork so far. I looked at my poppa quizzically searching my mind for what I had done wrong.

"You need to change your clothes before you can eat, off you go," he ordered. I sighed in my head but obediently got up. My father also got up and followed me because he wanted to check my room and upon seeing it he said it was "good enough for now." He then helped me get my uniform off and casual clothes on which went a lot faster with help since the uniform was tight and stuffy.

"Alright let's eat, I'm starving," he announced. He picked me up again and threw me over his shoulder laughing as we bounced down the stairs and into the dining room. He set me on my chair and I cut into my meat eating hungrily. The rest of supper went fine until my poppa called for his messages after dessert. We chatted as we waited for poppa to dismiss us.

My father was teasing me about something or other as the maid came in and handed my poppa a stack of papers. I had forgotten about my report card until then. My poppa read his message and nodded making notes on a few of them and then he came to one that made him look up. My father was just lifting me from my seat and seeking permission for me to be off to do homework. The hierarchy of a wolf pack is very important even in the family home. We all took instruction from my poppa usually having to get permission for even small things. He had the pack under strict environmental control and that especially included his own home.

"Nicky, come here," he told me. I walked over as soon as my father set me on the floor and stood in front of him wondering what I had done. "Read this," he ordered. I took the card and scanned it. Mental alarm bells rang in my head as I took in the message. "Out loud," he ordered. My stomach clenched and I looked up at him pleading with him to let this go but of course he wouldn't. My poppa was strict but fair. "Now," he said. I felt my father behind me urging me to do as I was told and also glancing at the message in my small hands.

"Mr. Sorrentino," I read "The students at Cromwell Preparatory Academy have received their report cards today. We ask that you look them over and sign them before they bring them back tomorrow. Thank you Headmaster Alexander," I read. I gulped looked up at my poppa cursing myself for not coming forward with the report card sooner.

"Did you receive you report card today?" he asked. I nodded shamefaced and looked at the floor as he spoke to me. My hands swung to the side the note clutched in my fist as I awaited for his punishment.

"Nick," my father prodded from behind when I didn't speak. I felt his loving hand on my back in a warning.

"Yes poppa," I answered now. He didn't like it when we didn't answer out loud. I looked up catching his eyes and immediately looked away submissive. He was the Alpha and even though I was his grandson I still needed to be submissive to him.

"Why didn't you show it to us?" he asked now. My mind whirled as I tried to find the answer to this.

"I...I was going to," I lied and then bit my lip looking away from him again and at the pattern on his tie instead.

"Was that a lie?" my poppa now asked. I floundered and then nodded refusing to meet his gaze again scared of what I would find there. "Come on lets go look at it," he ordered. I saw him stand out of the corner of my eye. I walked upstairs followed by my father and my poppa to my room; it was one of the longest walks of my short childhood. I entered and my poppa followed immediately walking across the floor and sitting on my bed waiting. My father crossed his arms and looked at me expectantly not trace of his usual smile to be seen.

I hesitated and then went to the closet going to the book pile and pulling out the card. I turned now reluctantly and saw my father in the closet doorway. He looked disappointed now and held out his hand. I handed him the card and followed him into the bedroom. I stood by my desk and waited with my arm propped on the wood that just my height as my father looked over the card and then handed it to my poppa turning towards me.

"Nicholas," My father said crouching down in front of me. I gulped and looked him in the eye. I hated it when he was serious with me. "Tell me what you did," he said using his usually tactic of making me tell him directly what I had done. I hated this tactic as well; it seemed that it made everything much worse than it was.

"I hid my report card and lied to you about it," I answered shame faced biting my lip again and clenching my fist.

"You also didn't clean you room, left your stuff all over the place, didn't change from your uniform and were very disrespectful today," he said. I nodded knowing this was true. He took my face in his hands and made me look into his eyes, the same eyes as mine. His human eyes were disappointed and beyond that I saw his wolf eyes filled with equal parts disappointment and frustration.

"I'm disappointed Nicolas, very disappointed," he said. I nodded the tears springing to my eyes as I did so. My father's disappointment always hurt the most of all. The problem was that by the time I did my next bad deed I always forgot what his disappointment felt like and we went through this all over again.

"Nicky, come here," my poppa said next. I swiped my eyes as my father let me go and went to stand in front of my poppa next ashamed to be crying and because of what I had done.

"All in one day you managed to lie, be disobedient and disrespectful to everyone here. What do you think should be done about this?" he asked. The dreaded question bounced through my brain and made me even more nervous.

"I...I don't know poppa," I said as a tear streaked down my cheek. He wiped it away quietly and regarded me turning to Antonio and then back to me again as I waited.

"What the punishment for lying in this house," poppa asked suddenly. His face and voice became a little harder now and fear slithered through my stomach

"Spanking," I almost whispered frightened. I had been spanked only twice before. Once I had been angry and broken something on purpose and the second time I tried to run away with Clay and we both got into trouble. We weren't planning on running away for good we just wanted to see the circus in town. Clay wanted to see what a lion cub tasted like and to hunt one even though he was way too small and I wanted to see the elephants, not to hunt them, just for fun.

"Speak up Nicholas," he ordered now. The hardness in his tone pronounced. I tensed and spoke up.

"A spanking poppa," I answered louder feeling my eyes watering again and tears spilled down my tanned cheeks against my will.

"What is the punishment for disrespect in this house," he asked next and although he and I both knew the answer I had a feeling he was putting the fear of God into me with each word. Of course in the pack the fear of the Alpha was greater than the fear of God.

"The same, a spanking," I answered wiping my eyes where the water had started to fall. He pulled my wrist down and wiped at my face himself getting rid of the tears with his big thumbs. My poppa was a strong man but even he had a hard time resisting a child's tears.

"And for being disobedient," he asked a little more quietly and I could sense my time was coming.

"The same poppa," I sniffed. He sighed and wiped my eyes again as if this was a heavy duty to have to bear. I always thought my end was the harder end to bear as a child but when I look at my niece and nephew now, Kate and Logan, it would rip my heart out to have to spank them. I now know that as physically painful as my punishment was for me it was ten times as emotionally painful for my poppa and father.

"Jeans down," my poppa now demanded. I chanced a glance at my father who stood against the wall with his arms crossed. His expression was an unusually hard one that he hardly ever adopted. I had only ever seen this expression when he had to see me punished. Poppa sometimes still considered him irresponsible and so Poppa still punished me or took care of other stuff for me but I was hoping soon that would change. "Now Nicholas Antonio," my poppa said a little louder and with a bit more authority. I gulped and undid the button on my jeans pulling them down as the fear slither from my stomach to my buttock the place about to be in severe pain. The hem of my boxers showed at the bottom of my t-shirt. I kicked my jeans off and poppa pulled me between his legs and took my shoulders.

"Do you understand why your being punished Nicky?" he asked and I nodded. He was ever patient making sure I knew why things happened and what was going to happen because of it.

"Yes, poppa," I answered quietly. He nodded now and lifted me under the arms and onto his lap like a sack of feathers. He laid me down on his lap and I squirmed getting into a more comfortable position, not that it mattered now. I threw my arms around my poppa's leg holding on and laying my face in his dress pant leg. I chanced a glance at my father once more, his expression remained the same. He wasn't happy but he never was when he couldn't step in and do what he thought should be done. My poppa was the Alpha, though, and until he said Antonio could take over he wouldn't be allowed to.

I let out a yell as my poppa's hand smacked into my rear intruding on my thoughts. Instinctively I let go and covered my butt and my poppa sighed stopping the punishment for a moment. "Can you refrain from trying to stop this or do I have to hold your hands Nicholas Antonio," my poppa asked using my full name as he got a little more frustrated.

"No," I answered removing my hands and putting them around my poppa's thigh again holding on tightly. He started smacking my rear faster now as I tried not to cry out but didn't succeed. I cried into his pant legs soaking them in my tears as he swatted and I tried not to move too much.

"What are you going to do next time you have a report card?" my poppa suddenly asked stopping the smacks for a moment. My mind whirled as I tried to think of the right answer.

"I...," I stuttered trying to answer. He smacked me again hard. I almost jumped this time but managed to stay somewhat still. "Ow...I'll show you and daddy," I gasped as he continued to reign down smack after smack.

"Are you planning on lying, being disrespectful or disobedient again?" my poppa asked as he peppered my rear with faster smacks. I cried out in pain as he started hitting the same areas over and over. I could tell my butt would be sore tomorrow whenever I tried to sit.

"No poppa, I'm sorry please," I cried squirming. He set a hand on my back to stop my movement and continued unperturbed. "Oww... poppa please...I'm sorry," I begged as he smacked and fresh tears spilled down my cheeks uncontrollably. I was beyond the point where I cared how I looked to my father anymore, this hurt and I couldn't pretend it didn't. "I'm sorry," I shrieked but he ignored me and continued with his task. He wouldn't stop until he was fully satisfied that I had gotten the message. "Po..ppppaaa," I whined as he took a split second break and I almost couldn't handle it anymore.

"Quiet," he ordered at my histrionics. I went silent except for sniffing and making small painful noises until finally he was done. He suddenly pulled me up and hugged me to him rubbing my back in slow soothing circle and letting me throw my arms around his neck and sob into his dress shirt. "Nicky, I don't like to see you hurt but I won't hesitate to set your ass on fire every time you step over the line," my poppa said. I nodded hiccupping and trying to squelch my tears. He pushed me in front of him and wiped my cheeks again smiling slightly. Poppa leaned forward next and kissed my forehead before picking me up again and setting me on the bed. I immediately sat up with my ass on fire sitting was impossible. I wiped my runny nose as poppa stood and looked at my father.

"Antonio, you know this is the only way," poppa said. I looked up but my father didn't answer or acknowledge my poppa. My poppa gave my father a hard look and I was almost worried he might take him over his knee which I am sure he had done plenty of times when he was growing up. My poppa shook his head and closed the door as I wiped my eyes again fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.

"Nicky," my father said as soon as my poppa left the room. I kept my place on the bed and he came forward and sat beside me pulling me to him. I slung my arms around his neck this time and cried into his shoulder as he held me and rubbed circles in my back to calm me down shushing me as he did so.

Finally he pulled me back and wiped my tears pulling off my shirt and laying me down on the bed on my side. I saw him stand and take off his own shirt and pants striding over to the light and flicking it off throwing the room in darkness. He came back to the bed and got in pulling the covers over us and pulling me to him so we were both on our side and I was cuddled up to his large muscled chest. He sighed and pulled his hand through my hair the other arm around my chest cradling my small body to him.

"Nicky, please don't ever do that again. I can't stand...I can't stand to see that," he whispered. I nodded not planning on being disobedient again anytime soon.

"I'm sorry daddy do you still love me?" I whispered. I was still squelching tears and hiccupping as he rubbed my hair and pulled me closer to his chest shushing me again and trying to calm me down.

"You're my baby boy Nicky; I'll always love you no matter what you do, no matter you say or what you think," Antonio whispered close to my ear his breath tickled me. I fell asleep shortly after, my rear still sore but my father's arms around me were a huge relief. The best nights for me, as a little boy, were when my father held me all night safe in his arms and loving embrace. I can't do this with my own children, seeing as how this doesn't seem to be in my future, and Noah and Reese are far too old for such behaviour, but when I am watching the twins I will often find myself sneaking into their bed and wrapping my arms around them letting them know their Uncle Nicky will keep them safe and loved.