********Disclaimer: These stories will have strong themes of corporal punishment, and are really whatever story pops into my messed-up mind. John is borderline abusive/abusive in these stories. These won't really have anything to do with one another usually- so probably one-shots for the most part. Please no telling me that John was a great father or blah blah- sorry, I respect your opinion. But... This is the way I see it. Also, for the record, I am not an advocate of corporal punishment in any situation, except that of two consenting individuals. You know... In the kinky way ;)

Anyways, please review... and yes I'm a terrible person for putting Dean (and probably Sammy sometime?) through this.

Viewer (reader?) discretion is advised.

This particular story takes place while Sammy is away at Stanford, and is the rare occasion when John has non-hunter guests over. Some old friends he and Mary had back before she died.

Dean let out a laugh, taking a sip of his beer. He sat listening to the story a middle-aged couple- Ted and Jamie- was telling, thoroughly entertained. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have guests over. It was nice.

He hadn't really spoken most of the evening- John had given him a good talking-to before these people had come over. "These people don't know that monsters exist, Dean. And it's gonna stay that way."

"Yes, sir." Had been the automatic response. He never questioned John's orders. He never had, and he most definitely didn't plan on starting now.

John was kicked back on the opposite side of the couch, just finishing his fifth beer. Dean, of course, pretended not to notice how much his father had been drinking- he was trying to just enjoy the night with these nice people. Just as Ted finished one of his stories, Dean finally went to speak. "Man, I remember this time, me and Dad were hunting this werewolf-" No sooner had the words slipped out of his mouth that he realized his mistake. He hadn't meant to say it, he hadn't. Everyone had been telling stories, and hunting ones were the only ones he had. His eyes darted straight to his father, who had a look on his face irritated enough to terrify Dean. "I'm sorry." Dean all but choked out, pressing further against the couch. "Dad, I'm sorry."

Jamie cast her gaze from John, to Dean, and then back to John. What the hell was happening? Did he say werewolf? Surely not. Why does he look so scared all of a sudden?

"Get up." The words were growled more so than spoken, and Ted watched as John rose up off the couch, setting his beer on the coffee table.

Dean scrambled to obey, setting his own beer so fast that he managed to knock it and a couple of other empty bottles over, managing only to infuriate John further. "Dad, I'm sorry." The words were spoken again, coming from the grown man who now looked to be nothing more than a terrified five-year-old.

Jamie turned to glance back at John, who did nothing more than gesture to the wall on the opposite side of the room. "Now." He snarled.

She swore could see the life in Dean's eyes die right then and there, any trace of that charming smile he had earlier, vanished. The twenty-five year old practically stumbled over the couple's legs, trying to make his way over to the place his father was pointing, muttering a few 'Sorry's, and 'yes, sir's on his way. As he walked, he began untucking his shirt, slipping it off and tossing it aside in a practiced manner before stopping right in front of the wall, pressing his hands to it and adjusting his legs to spread them apart, allowing him more support and a better stance.

Very confused with what was even happening, Jamie glanced to John who, to her horror, slid off his belt as he marched over to the boy. "My god, John, no!" She cried, starting to get up. She didn't even understand what Dean had done- and why her friend was acting as though he was going to hit his grown son with a belt- in front of her and her husband, no less.

Dean ducked his head to stare down at the floor, standing deathly still. He felt terrible. He had managed to screw up their nice evening- and now Dad was going to have to correct him in front of their guests. Sure, John had belted him a few times with Bobby around. While his uncle was never happy about it, it was never a big deal. Because it was Bobby. These were people he had never met before- and if he had, it had been a long time ago.

The room was completely silent besides the sound of his father pulling his belt loose from the loops as he approached his son. Dean did nothing more than tense as John folded the belt over, pressing it to his lower back and, without a single word, pulling his arm back and bringing the belt back down across his bared back.

Jamie sat in horrified silence with her hand over her mouth, not even sure how to react to the entire situation. Maybe the most alarming thing wasn't even that a twenty-five year old grown man was being beaten with a belt in front of her. Maybe it was the marks running over his shoulders and entire back, proving that this was most definitely not the first time this had happened.

Ted sat next to his wife, shocked into silence as well. He sat, half in his seat, half ready to jump up and go stop John. What was he doing? The man was laying into the poor boy- who, to his credit, had stood completely still and remained completely silent until about the eleventh stroke, at which point only a small grunt had emerged from the back of his throat. Nothing more, however. No protest, no pleading for his father to stop, no physical resistance- nothing.

At one point, John had reached up and taken a fistful of Dean's hair, forcing his head up. "Eyes on the wall." he spoke quietly into Dean's ear, earning a whispered "Yes, sir." He followed up with three licks to Dean's shoulders for the minor infraction, working his way down his son's back again once he was satisfied.

At this point, they were nearing stroke twenty, and Dean's body was rocking just a bit every time the belt made contact. He tried his damndest to stay silent, but couldn't help a soft whimper of protest at a particularly hard stroke.

Jamie finally forced herself to get up at the gentle, heart-wrenching noises coming from the boy at this point, which only resulted in John striking harder.

"John." Jamie spoke rather sternly, grabbing the man's wrist right before the belt made contact with Dean's back once again. "John, stop. You stop that. The poor boy didn't do a damn thing, and you're beating him like he's some animal." She reached to place a soothing hand on Dean's back, only to have him flinch violently at the touch before he stilled himself, forcing his back to press towards her hand, anticipating further punishment.

"What the hell have you done to him, John? He was such a sweet, wild little boy." The woman whispered, doing her best to push John away from Dean. As soon as John went to protest, Ted was right there, putting himself between John and the other two. "C'mon, John. Why don't we get you outside so you can cool off?" He suggested, giving John no time to answer before escorting him towards the door.

There was a long few minutes of Jamie and Dean standing in silence, the boy never breaking stance. She ran her hand up and down his back, doing her best to rub the sting out without injuring him further. "Why did he do that to you, honey? Why did you let him?"

Dean lifted his head just a bit, frozen where he was. He didn't want to get himself in more trouble, and Dad hadn't said that they were through yet. He turned his head the slightest bit to glance at Jamie out of the corner of his eye, unsure of what to do.

"Oh- sweetie, you can move, my god. I'm so sorry, I didn't even think to tell you. Go ahead." She cooed, practically forcing his hands off the wall when he still didn't move, doing the best she could to pull him into her arms in order to soothe him. "What has he done to you?"

Dean turned his face just a bit, very reluctantly returning the hug, all but burying his face against her neck. He was sure he wasn't supposed to be getting this sort of comfort- he was in trouble. He couldn't bring himself to pull away, however. It felt too good, too gentle. Though, after a moment, he forced himself to slowly break free of the hug, averting his gaze before the woman was able to meet his eyes. "'M sorry, ma'am." Was all he had to say. I'm sorry I mentioned a monster in front of you, it just came out. I'm sorry I made noises while Dad was correcting me, I didn't mean to cause a scene. I'm sorry it had to happen while you were here, I wasn't trying to make trouble. I was enjoying listening to the stories you were telling.

"How long has this been going on?" Jamie asked gently, leaning down to retrieve John's discarded belt, never imagining the reaction it would bring about. She watched the young man's face pale just a bit, and the hurt look he gave her only lasted a moment before he turned to press his hands back to the wall, beginning to ready himself once again.

"No- oh-my god, no. I wasn't going to-" Jamie dropped the belt at the realization, reaching over to touch Dean's shoulder, only to have him shy away like the soft touch was a snake bite. "Honey, that's done with. It's over, it's all over. I would never- oh, honey."

Dean slowly glanced back at her, his face showing nothing less than utter disbelief. He wasn't sure what was going on, or why this strange woman was being so nice to him. "'M sorry." He repeated, allowing her to pull him away from the wall and into her arms once more. "'M sorry, ma'am."