I do not own The Originals or any of the characters.
Warning: There will be spanking of a vampire by his sire. Don't like, don't read!
"Over the desk, Marcel. Go on. I trust you remember how this goes. As I recall, you did have quite a penchant for mischief in your youth. This is hardly a new experience." Klaus addressed Marcel with a smirk.
Marcel stood his ground defiantly. "You can't do this to me! I am the King of the Quarter! I rule this city. It's been a long time since I answered to anyone." Marcel argued.
"You may be the king of your little fan club, but to me you'll always be the little boy I saved all those years ago. You are mine, you belong to me. You answer to me, something you seem to have forgotten. But no worries, you will remember by the time I'm through with you. Do not fight me on this Marcel, it will only make things worse for you. Trousers down and bend over."
Standing alone with Klaus, without his vampires by his side, make Marcel aware of how weak he was compared to the elder vampire. What had made him thing he could challenge his sire. Seeing no other choice than to obey, he resigned himself to what was to come, determined to bear it stoically and with his pride intact.
Marcel slowly lowered his jeans and his briefs, stopping them right at the curve of his backside.
"Ah, there's a good lad." Klaus praised as he moved towards the desk. Klaus grabbed Marcel's clothes and pulled them the rest of the way down. A barely audible groan was Marcel's only reaction.
"Let us begin." Klaus picked up the switch that had been sitting on the desk; he had taken care to be discreet when choosing the instrument for his child's correction, he had no intention of ruining the respect the vampires had for Marcel.
Klaus raised the switch above his head before letting it swing. Marcel heard the dreaded "whoosh" of the swinging switch before he felt the red-hot pain in a line on his backside. Before he could register it another one fell. Klaus kept up a steady stream of lashes using his vampire strength and speed to drive his lesson home.
Marcel had let out a small cry when the first stroke had fallen but since then had managed to remain quiet. That changed when Klaus moved to his sit spots, using even more force than previously. Marcel started to quietly sob and Klaus stopped the assault on his backside. Marcel stayed where he was, he had been it that position enough to know that his punishment was far from over.
Confident that Marcel was not going to rise without permission Klaus began his lecture. He reiterated the fact that Marcel was his, that he would always be his. He let Marcel know, in no uncertain terms, that any hint of rebellion would be dealt with swiftly and painfully. He reminded Marcel of what the two had once had, and could (and would) have again. Klaus made it clear that he would never leave his son again.
Deciding that he had made his point Klaus picked up the switch to finish Marcel's punishment.
"Klaus, please, I'm sorry! Please!" Marcel cried.
Marcel's pleas fell on deaf ears, as Klaus was determined to make this a lesson that would not need repeating. Klaus started the switching again this time striping Marcel's thighs, stopping just above his knee.
Marcel had given in to loud sobbing and had let out a few screams before his body went limp over the desk, accepting the punishment that Klaus was meting out. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Klaus stopped. Klaus put a hand on Marcel's back and let him cry it out.
When Marcel calmed Klaus removed his hand and said "to the corner with you, naughty boys need time to reflect on their poor choices."
Experience, and the pain in his backside, had taught Marcel not to argue. He shuffled over to the corner and pressed his nose to the wall.
Klaus left the room, knowing Marcel wouldn't dare move without permission. Marcel winced when he thought about what his subjects would say if they could see him now. Their king, standing in the corner like an errant child, with his pants bunched around his ankles and his red bottom on display.
Standing in the corner of Klaus' study, brought back so many memories of his childhood. He had indeed had been quite the troublemaker, though Klaus had never allowed him to get away with it. Marcel was brought out of his musings by the sound of Klaus entering the room. "You may fix your clothes and come out of the corner." Klaus told Marcel. "I trust you have learned your lesson?"
"Yes, sir. Marcel replied. Klaus smiled at the change in attitude.
Marcel looked down at his feet, unsure of what he should do or say. Klaus took in the view of Marcel looking so forlorn and vulnerable, reminding him of Marcel as a child. Acting on instinct Klaus pulled Marcel into a hug, which to his surprise Marcel returned. Few words were needed between the two men, between father and son.
"You'll have a bed time spanking tonight and I want to be clear that any more trouble from you will land you right back here."
Later that night
Marcel knew it was best not to fight, it would only make the coming spanking that much worse. He hated even thinking about a spanking, it made him feel like he was still the boy Klaus had taken in all those years ago.
"What do naughty boys get before their early bedtime?" Klaus asked Marcel.
Marcel mumbled something that sounded like "spanking", but Klaus was not satisfied.
"Naughty boys get a spanking on their bare bottom to help them remember to behave. So you ask me for what you know you deserve."
Marcel rolled his eyes, and looked at Klaus stubbornly. "I can go ask Rebekah to lend me her hair brush if you cannot answer me properly." Klaus replied in response.
Marcel was mortified at that thought, not to mention not wanting to feel a hairbrush on his very sore, and soon to be sorer, backside. Any defiance he had felt vanished as he opened his mouth to obey Klaus. "Please spank me on my bare bottom to help me remember not to be naughty." Marcel choked out.
"Good." Klaus nodded his approval. He sat on Marcel's bed and beckoned him over. Marcel walked over and let Klaus pull down his pajama pants, and then lowered himself over Klaus' lap.
Klaus wasted no time and began peppering Marcel's backside with swats, using only half his strength. He spanked just enough to relight the fire from earlier in the day.
Marcel cried quietly into the bedspread, doing his best to stay still, not wanting to anger his sire. Klaus finally stopped and rested his hand on Marcel's backside. Marcel turned his head to look up at the man he considered to be his father, feeling every bit the punished child.
"So, who's the king?" Klaus asked with a smirk.
"You are." Marcel replied with a smirk of his own.
Klaus helped Marcel up off his lap and gently pulled his pants back up. He then pulled back the covers on the bed and motioned for Marcel to crawl in. Once Marcel was settled Klaus kissed him on the forehead before heading to the bedroom door.
"Klaus…"
"Yes?" Klaus replied, turning around.
"Um, never mind." Marcel said.
"Don't you never mind me, what were you going to say?" Klaus demanded sternly.
"Um, could you stay with me for a little while?" Marcel whispered, blushing.
"Of course I can." Klaus replied, secretly overjoyed that Marcel had requested the comfort of his presence. He joined Marcel on the bed and held him until he fell asleep. As he left Klaus smiled and thought to himself how glad he was to have decided to return to New Orleans and to the boy he considered his own son.