So this is a story I started writing about 3 years ago, but never finished. I recently remembered I still had it sitting on my computer somewhere, so I dug it up and finished it. It's a bit silly, but I hope you enjoy, and if you do, please leave a review. Thank you!


The FCW locker room was filled with thick steam from the scalding water in the showers. William Regal wrapped a towel around his waist before adjusting his neatly folded clothes on the bench in front of his locker. There was so much chaos in the world that he liked to keep in order whatever he could control. His neatness and hygiene were near the top of that list.

He stepped into the shower to come face to face with the largest source of chaos that was currently in his life: one Dean Ambrose. The kid had been in developmental for six weeks and he had not debuted yet. That was normal. No matter how good a wrestler was, it could take months, even over a year for them to debut on FCW television. Ambrose said he understood and was fine with it when in earshot of the executives, but behind the scenes he complained like a bratty child.

"I was Jon fucking Moxley," he would whine, "I was the king of the fucking indies. I shouldn't have to be down here with these dudes who can't keep up."

To a point, he was right. He was as good as he said and brought a look and wrestling style that felt new and fresh, despite the fact that it was a throwback to the old-school. Regal admired the boy for that. He was always a lover of the old-school and was glad to see that it hadn't died out completely from the sport he loved. However William loathed Ambrose's attitude. He would not stand for these young kids who paraded around like they had nothing new to learn because they had been a big fish in a small pond. He knew that Dean was good and he knew that Dean could be the biggest star to come into WWE in a long time, but with his arrogant attitude, he was bound to be crushed and tossed aside sooner rather than later. Regal tried to mentor the boy, but whenever he suggested it, Dean flapped his hand at him and laughed.

The young man was lathering his body when William stepped inside. Regal hung the towel on the bar and walked under a showerhead. He eyed Dean's body out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't in a sexual manner, not that he hadn't experienced a few men in his wilder days. This was out of jealousy, if he was perfectly honest. Ambrose had a well-built frame that could be molded into something that would make the executives happy, if Ambrose would only work harder on it.

William looked down at his own stomach and grimaced. He never had a great body and nowadays it was even worse. Normally he never worried about body when it came to wrestling, but sometimes he would compare himself to a young wrestler if he saw a piece of himself inside of them. He sighed and closed his eyes as the hot water cascaded over his skin.

"Feels good, huh?" He opened his eyes to see Ambrose nodding at him.

"Yes," he replied. "It helps me relax so that I can sleep a bit better."

"I don't sleep much," Dean laughed. "It bothers me to think about what experiences I could be missing while I'm sleeping. Life is so much more interesting than dreams, you know what I mean?" Regal grunted in response. "After this, I'm gonna go out to a bar and take it over. Shut it down, bring some pretty little thing back with me, make her remember the name Dean Ambrose, and grab a coffee before I'm back here in the morning." The grin on his face showed his dimples, but made Regal feel ill.

"You have so much potential, Mr. Ambrose. It's a shame to see you wasting it on excessive joviality."

"Hey man, I'm not worse than you ever were, so don't lecture me, okay?"

"I'm not denying what I have done, but that is neither here nor there. If you would only let me mentor you-"

"Regal, I know you're good, but there's nothing you could teach me, man."

"Dear boy, I'm afraid that you are sadly mistaken. There is so much that you don't know, simply because you're young. I could help you with-"

"With what, old villain?" Ambrose interrupted.

Regal smirked and replied with one single word. "Discipline."

Dean laughed as shut off the water and grabbed his towel. "Right. Discipline. That's a good one. You take care Regal. Enjoy that thrilling night of sleep you have planned."

He winked at Regal as he rubbed the towel in his hair and strolled out into the locker room with no semblance of modesty. William shook his head. He had to get through to that young man, one way or another.


William always woke up early to go to the training facility. Classes didn't begin till 8am, but he liked to get there at 6 in the morning to assist any trainees with workouts when he was done with his own regiment. Ambrose wasn't know to come in early regularly, but he did on occasion. Regal hoped that he'd be in early today so that he could try to speak with him again. He was a stubborn man and was not about to give up on getting Ambrose on track.

The two hours went by and no sign of Dean. The 8am class began and Regal assisted as usual, although he was distracted. He kept glancing at the door waiting for Ambrose to walk in. He didn't always come early, but he had never been late to the training class. With every passing minute, he felt his pulse quickening and his anger rising. Finally Dean arrived at 8:23 and tossed his bag against the wall.

"Hey fuckers, I'm here!"

Regal gripped the ropes, turning his knuckles white, but was able to maintain a calm face.

"You're late, Ambrose."

The head trainer walked up to Dean with his arms crossed.

"Dean, what's up? You've never been late and you didn't at least call to let us know."

"Bah, Joey, 's no problem. 'M here now. Le's do this shit!"

Dean clapped Mercury on the back and laughed. Joey flared his nostrils when he smelled the whiskey still on Dean's breath. Mercury turned around and shared a look with Regal. William sighed and climbed down from the ring, meeting Joey on the outside.

"He's obviously drunk," Joey commented. "I'm not going to let him fucking stay. This is fucking ridiculous."

"I'll drive him home so that his stupidity doesn't get him hurt. I'll make sure he's set up well to sleep this nonsense off and hopefully he'll be able to come back for the afternoon class."

"Okay I'll agree to that. I'm pissed off at him for showing up like this, but he's far to good to suspend. I'll ignore this as long he can show up at 3 and work his ass off."

"I can have that arranged."

Joey nodded and returned to the rest of his students. William walked toward Ambrose, who was crouched on the floor and rummaging through his bag for who-knows-what. He stopped next to Ambrose and cleared his throat. He was blatantly ignored. He repeated his action, although much louder, and got a wave of the hand from Dean. He sighed and spoke up. "Get up please, Mr. Ambrose." "'M busy, Regal. Go'way." William rubbed the bridge of his nose and realized that being polite was getting him nowhere.

He bent over, grabbed the back of Dean's shirt and roughly pulled up on it. Dean reluctantly pushed himself up off the floor and shoved Regal's hand away.

"Don't grab m' fucking shirt. I paid $2 for it, man."

I'm sorry that you had to break the bank for it. Pick up your bag and let's go."

"Th' fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm taking you home. You're drunk and acting very unprofessionally. You should be happy that you're getting this instead of a suspension."

"This is fuckin' bullshit," Dean grunted as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "I never knew you were the kind of guy to become a fucking stooge, Regal." He stared hard into William's eyes, seemingly in an attempt to intimidate him.

"Okay, let's go, Mr. Ambrose. About face and march."

"Fuck you."

"Don't make me drag you out of here. I promise it will be much more embarrassing for you than for me." Ambrose snorted and turned around, exiting through the main door.

The drive back to Dean's apartment was strained, to say the least. He sat staring out the window, his head resting against his arm. The only sound was the hum of the engine. Regal debated about speaking. Giving this young man a lecture seemed like the right thing to do. However, he stopped himself before he opened his mouth, remembering that everything he'd ever said to him had gone in one ear and straight out of the other. He realized that rather than wasting his breath yet again, he would have to resort to more extreme methods to get this talented young wrestler to, as the kids say, get his shit together.

Once the car was parked in front of Dean's place, William exited and walked around to the passenger side. He opened up the door for Ambrose, unsure of why he was making this polite gesture to the man who had been nothing but rude to him. Dean stared back at him, his eyes slightly narrowed. Regal could sense the heat radiating off of his body. He was certainly angry. It would be quite a chore ahead of William to get him straightened out.

"Come on, then," Regal finally spoke.

Ambrose threw his bag at Regal and reluctantly stepped out onto the curb. He left the bag behind and stomped up the stairs to unlock the door. Regal made his way up the stairs to follow Dean inside, but he was greeted with the door slammed in his face. He cricked his neck to the side to relieve the tension that was building. He was going to have a proper headache when this was all said and done. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he opened the door and let himself in.

He was quite impressed with how quickly Ambrose could hide himself in here. It had only been about twenty seconds, but he could not see the boy from the front door.

"Mr. Ambrose, this foolishness is unbecoming of you," he called out.

He peeked into each room as he walked down the hallway, until he finally ran into Ambrose leaving the kitchen. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hand and shoved past Regal before taking a swig. William spun around and grabbed a fistful of Dean's hair, stopping him in his tracks and causing him to choke on the alcohol.

"Are you bloody kidding me?" he asked, the fury he felt beginning to seep into his speech.

He wrenched the bottle from Dean's hands and marched him to the bathroom. He shoved Dean into the open shower stall and turned on the cold water. The shock of the spray on his clothed body made Dean stumble back and slump to the floor.

"What the fuck, Regal? What the fuck do you think you're fucking doing?"

"I'm doing what was requested of me, Mr. Ambrose," he said, regaining the steady tone of his voice. "I was asked to dry you out and let you sleep off this nasty spell you seem to be in. Think of it as a trial of my mentorship." He turned the whiskey bottle upside down over the sink and let the contents flow down the drain.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment, Regal!" Dean yelled, banging on the wall like a child.

"I'm not going anywhere. Drinking more alcohol is not a part of drying you out, now is it? Has the water brought you back to your senses a bit?"

"I fucking hate you." Dean growled.

"I suppose that answers my question then. Why don't you take off those wet clothes? They must not be very comfortable on you."

"I'm not getting fucking naked in front of you, asshole."

"Really now, Mr. Ambrose? Sober you can shower across from me, yet drunk, you seem to be expressing some sort of latent homophobic fears? Is that it? I will shut off the water if you remove your clothes."

Dean blinked silently at Regal for a moment before reaching down to pull both of his shoes off. He didn't complain once while he did it, but he made sure to throw the sopping shoes at Regal's head once they were off. William was able to swat the away, but if Dean had intended to increase his rage, it had worked. He placed his hand inside his blazer and felt himself relax when he felt his "secret weapon". He had hoped that he wouldn't have to use it, but he made sure to take it from his glovebox before he left the car. The way Ambrose was acting now, it seemed that there was no other way.

Dean finally dragged himself to his feet, his clothes clinging tightly to his body. He reluctantly peeled his wet t-shirt up and over his head, letting it fall to the shower floor with a squelching sound. He undid his belt and slipped his thumbs under his pants, bending down as he pulled them down his legs. With his pants still around his ankles, William grabbed a towel and tossed it over Dean's head.

"What the fuck?" he yelled.

While he was grabbed the towel off of him, William pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs from his coat and grabbed Dean's wrist, twisting it behind his back and snapping the cuff in place. Dean reached his free arm back to try to claw at William's eyes, but in his drunken haze, his aim wasn't very good and William was able to grab it with ease. He firmly pulled it down and clasped the other cuff.

"Fuck you, Regal! What the fuck is this about? I took off my fucking clothes for you, so what the fuck do you want from me?"

"I didn't want to have to go to these extremes, my dear boy, but your aggressive behavior had me worried, so I had to bind you in some way."

Regal tugged on Dean's arms to guide him out of the bathroom. Dean obliged, stepping backward, but his wet jeans were still around his ankles, so he stumbled before regaining his footing. He attempted to kick off the pants while he walked backwards into the hallway. William twisted Dean's wrist, making him scream.

"Keep them on," Regal instructed.

"Why? I can't fucking walk right like this!"

"Think of it as part of your punishment," he replied as he pulled Dean into what appeared to be his bedroom.

The bedroom was barely furnished, yet still a mess. Regal was almost impressed by how the young man had been able to make such a mess out of nothing. He spotted a chair under a pile of dirty clothes and pulled it toward them, dumping the clothes off in the process. He kicked aside some empty beer cans and sat down on the chair, pulling Dean down across his lap. His skin was still damp and the beads of water soaked through Regal's pants. His bare ass was front and center in the humiliating position he found himself in. Dean thrashed about on William's lap, struggling to get some control over his body. Regal placed his rough hand firmly on the small of Dean's back and gently shushed him.

"The sooner we begin, the sooner this will be over and you can get to bed. You have to be up and ready for the afternoon class. That is what I promised Mercury."

"What is this? Are you going to fucking spank me? Like a child?"

"No, I am going to spank you like a grown man, although you have been acting like quite the spoiled child this morning."

"The fuck you will! Let me go!"

Dean began to thrash around me violently until he heard a loud smack and felt the sharp sting of Regal's hand meeting the cold wet skin of his ass. His eyes widened and his mouth fell agape like he was screaming, yet no sound escaped. His body became tense and rigid. His bound hands frantically tried to cover his exposed ass in vain.

"The more you struggle, the more difficult this will be, Mr. Ambrose. Do you insist on doing things the hard way?"

Dean appeared to be ignoring what Regal was saying. His fingertips continued to reach out to protect his bottom. Regal sighed and grabbed Dean's wrists, pushing his hands against his upper back. He took his other hand and softly rubbed the gentle curve of his mentee's ass. He quietly shushed him again in an attempt to calm him down.

"Relax, boy. I've said before that you are a talented young man with a decorated future ahead of you, but you need discipline. Consider this your first lesson. Learn from it."

He raised his hand and brought it down firmly onto Dean's round cheek. He felt the sting of the blow on his hand, but he knew that the sting Dean felt was much greater. The younger man made no noise, but his body jolted on Regal's lap. His hand came down again on the other cheek. When Regal removed his hand, he could see spots of pink beginning to bloom on Dean's pale ass. A small smile curled onto his lips. He always did enjoy the visual beauty of his handiwork. He smacked each cheek firmly in a rhythmic and methodical manner - left, right, and back again.

Regal paused after a moment. He found it quite odd that Dean had been so quiet during his punishment when he had not shut up since the got to the apartment. He rubbed his hand against Dean's ass, feeling how hot the skin had become, especially when compared to how cool the rest of his body was. He had to be feeling the effects. His body was tense and his ass was beginning to turn a lovely shade of rouge, and yet the boy didn't utter a sound. It concerned Regal. If he was going to get successful results from this, he was going to have to break him.

"Is this a power move, Mr. Ambrose?" William asked as he trailed a finger in lazy loops across Dean's backside. "Because I assure you that your bottom will give out long before my hand does."

He heard Dean grunt in frustration, like he wanted to speak. It made him smile because he'd started to wonder if Dean had fallen asleep from all the alcohol. Regal reached over and gathered a fistful of Dean's messy locks. He pulled back on his head, raising it enough so that Regal could get an adequate view of his face.

"What was that, Mr. Ambrose? I didn't quite hear you."

He knew that he hadn't actually said anything, but Regal wanted to see how the boy would react.

"I fucking hate you."

"Still going with the anger and hate, hmm? I guess I'll need to go harder, then."

He brought his hand down hard and in fast succession – one, two, three, four. William wasn't entirely certain, but he thought he felt Dean flinch before he had landed the first smack. He was starting to finally get to him.

Dean's ass was bright red, and William felt the sudden urge to dig his nails into the tender flesh. He had always been a fan of a freshly beaten bottom, and it had been quite a while since he had had one splayed so beautifully on his lap. The fact that it belonged to a young man rather than a young woman was no matter. An ass was an ass, and when it came to spankings, Regal felt himself a cruel artist.

Dean writhed in agony as William scratched and clawed at the raw skin. William laughed and shook his head.

"I thought you said you were 'fucking Jon Moxley', hmm? 'King of the fucking indies'? What would they say if they could see you now, boy? The lord of the deathmatch fidgeting like a child over a simple spanking? Such a shame to see how far you've fallen. Have you become soft, or were you never as tough as you led people to believe?" William noticed that he had managed to draw some blood from the scratching. A sinister smirk appear on his lips. Beautiful.

"But I can build you up, dear boy. I can give you the guidance you need to become a better wrestler, and a better man. All you need to say is 'yes please, sir", and I will release you from the cuffs and we can begin. I'll let you sleep, clean you up, and make sure you're ready for class this afternoon. All I need are three simple words."

He fell silent, waiting for Dean to speak. All he heard was Dean breathing heavily and groaning. William decided that he had to take this beating up to the next level if he wanted to break the young Mr. Ambrose.

He pressed his right hand firmly into Dean's back while he leaned down and removed his left shoe from his foot. Securing a tight grip on the shoe, heel up, William struck down on Dean's bottom. The dense thud sound it made was music to his ears. William began to hum happily as he continued to beat Dean's ass with the heel of the shoe, each impact hitting the same exact spot on each cheek. It wasn't too long before dark purple bruising began to form. He smacked the shoe against the bruises a few more times before resting it on Dean's back. Regal took both both of his hands and dug his thumbs deep into the bruised tissue, dragging a blood curdling scream out of his would-be protégé.

"Yes please, sir! I fucking give up, sir please!"

Regal quickly removed his hands from Dean's body and allowed the other man to begin to regain his composure. After a few minutes, he removed the key from his pants pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. Dean flinched at Regal's touch. William smiled that he had instilled a bit of fear in him. A little bit of fear was good. Once the cuffs were off, Dean's arms fell to his side, limp. William helped him stand up, move over to the bed, and lie down on his side. Dean had fallen silent since the cuffs came off. William nodded to himself and smiled.

William left Dean's bedroom and search for a glass in the kitchen. He filled it with some cold water and returned to the exhausted young man.

"Drink this. I don't want you to become dehydrated from the booze and the beating. I have some aloe lotion in my car. I'll go fetch it and apply it. It will help you feel better and make sure the skin heals well."

Dean grunted as William left the room. When William returned, it appeared that Dean was finally asleep. He gently applied the lotion to Dean's ass, being careful to not disturb his rest. He stood for a moment, watching the man sleep, before he retired to the living room to have a nap himself.

When William's eyes finally fluttered open a few hours later, he saw Dean standing in front of him, fully dressed and gym bag in tow.

"I'm ready, sir."

William smiled and laughed softly. He stood up and slowly walked around the young wrestler, inspecting him carefully. After a moment, he nodded and made a quiet noise of approval.

"Good job, Mr. Ambrose. And you don't need to call me sir from now on. Mr. Regal be fine for now, and at some point I will permit you to call me William…once you manage to earn my respect. You're not there yet, but I know you can get there. I just needed to put you in your place and remind you of how big of an opportunity you have here. You can't squander it. I will not let it happen. If you slip up again, I will not hesitate to spank you again, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Regal. …And thank you. I really needed that."

"You're welcome, my son. Let's go make history together."