Note: I prefer to the Undertake as Death cuz I'm too lazy to wright Undertaker over and over.

This story takes place in the 'godfather death' universe based on the grimms fairytale.

Aleister Chamber, the Viscount of Druitt, stood in the corner of the headmaster's office, facing the wall. His hands behind his back, still carrying himself with gentlemanly poise. But he was trembling, his head hung low.

He had arrived at Weston College to attend the ceremony and pop by to see his nephew and godfather, Death, formally known as The Undertaker, now known as Headmaster of Weston college, who was currently sitting in the headmaster's office desk, wearing a fine suit with his hair tied back in a bun. The slight scraping noise of a root being peeled was the only sound to be heard aside from Death cheerfully humming to himself.

Earlier that day, the Viscount was getting a little too friendly with the first year students, commenting on their cuteness and beauty, before swiftly being grabbed by the ear by a mysterious figure and taken up to the headmaster's office.

"Godfather, I swear, I wasn't going to do anything too horrible, I-I was just talking to the-" The Viscount spoke, still facing the corner, but was cut off by an "Ah-ah." from the headmaster.

"Ya know it could get cha' in trouble, dearie. Ya can't pay yerself out a' jail every time. They'll take you away from me. And think of what all the nasty people in there would do to a pretty thing who plays around with kiddies. You should really be more careful. Tut tut tut."

Death didn't care much for the lives of humans he wasn't close to, much like how humans love their dogs like one of their own but would slaughter and eat a sheep without a second thought. Aleister has never gone too far with children, but can still get a little too flirty. Death cared much more for his godson in the situation, not wanting him to go down that path and get himself in trouble, so sometimes he had to dish out some tough love.

The corner was his first punishment. The Viscount had been standing there for about a long time as Death gathered up and prepared all the necessary equipment.

"Shishaku~?"

"Hm?" Aleister squeaked, turning his head slightly to look at the headmaster.

"Come 'ere." Death beckoned with his head.

"I don't wanna." Aleister said childishly.

"Now." Death spoke in a tone he rarely used. It sent cold shivers down the Viscount's spine to here the normally cheerful man use that tone.

'Perhaps I could make a run for it.' Aleister thought. 'No, he's much to fast. He'll catch me, and I don't want to hide from him forever. What to do. What to do…'

"Today, dearie." Those words snapped the Viscount out of thought.

He turned around and, as slowly as he could muster, walked towards the Headmaster.

With great hesitation, he held out his trembling hands, waiting for the Headmaster to strike them.

"J-Just do it. Let us be done with this." Aleister stammered.

"Hm, oh dear. There seems ta have been a misunderstandin'." Death teased. He turned his chair so his love can have access to his lap.

" .Knee." The headmaster ordered, a shit eating grin on his face.

Druitt took a step back. "You-You-You must be joking! You're going to smack my bottom like a child! I am the Viscount Druitt! I shall not stand for thiiIIII-"

The reaper grabbed him by the collar and pulled the man over his knee, making him squeal in surprise. His upper body was over the desk with his lower body over the reapers lap.

"Now, do you want ta pull down yer trousers or should I?" Asked Death.

Aleister closed his eyes and turned his head, trying to speak but failing.

"S'pose that answers that." Death pulled down the Viscounts pants and knickers, revealing his lovely pale ass.

"I'm sorry!" Aleister shrieked."I'm very sorry and promise not to do it again."

"Well, I'll make sure ya keep that promise." Death said.

Aleister knew he was about to be figged.

Figging was a form of punishment practiced in the Victorian era, mostly by husbands to their wives. A skinned piece of ginger root would be inserted into the anus in order to generate an acute burning sensation to go along with a flogging. Aleister remembered he has done this to women many times as a form of kinky fun. Once, he accidentally got some juice from the root in his eye and it was very sore. The familiar smell of ginger came from the root Death had just skinned. Oh dear, this is going to hurt.

Druitt flinched as Death spread his cheeks apart with his fingers, but exclaimed in surprise when he felt something cold and wet began to massage his little hole. Lubrication was rarely used during figging as it nullified the effect of the ginger root, but Death really didn't want to risk hurting his godson, so he thought a good licking should loosen up the mortal a bit. Aleister felt himself relax and un-pucker, letting the headmaster's tongue slip in. He almost forgot he was in trouble until he felt something foreign be inserted inside him, immediately tensing up again. A large ginger root, carved in the shape of a butt-plug, held in place by his sphincter muscles.

"Please…" He begged. "Take it out. I won't do it again. I'll be good." Tears were already dripping down the over-sensitive man's face.

"Oh dear, cryin' already? Sometimes ya just gotta take yer medicine." Death took out a cane from behind the desk. With his one hand, he pushed down on the Viscount's back, forcing it into an arch, making his bottom pop up.

With a loud crack, Death struck the poor mortals rear with the cane, making him shriek.

The reaper struck his rear again and again. It was so sore, not to mention embarrassing being spanked like a child. Then he felt a warm tingling sensation began to form inside him. It was the ginger. The nobleman squirms and kicks with his legs while he was caned relentlessly. Aleister always had a low tolerance for pain, and this was very painful indeed. The flogging would already have him riving, but now the ginger made it like there was a furnace inside him. Every time he was struck, his bottom clenched up, getting him stung by the ginger. Druitt could only moan as the headmaster struck every inch of his bottom, including all the tender sitting spots. Thick red lines were being left behind be the cane.

"What a' ya sorry about?" Death asked between strokes.

"I'm sorry-! AH! I'm a dirty, dirty man! I deserve this! I completely and utterly deserve this!" Tears, snot and sweat were streaming down the mortal's bright red face. Crack, crack, crack.

All the while, Death kept his happy demeanor.

"This is for yer own good, love." He said, caning his godson after every word.

'Oh dear! I'll never sit down again.'

Druitts entire rear was red and splotchy, the ginger root inside him had taken full effect and stung horribly, and to top it all off he was the humiliation of being treated like a child. Things couldn't get worse.

A sinister grin crept across the headmasters face. He harshly traced a gloved finger across the viscount's stinging bottom, making him shriek and pucker tightly around the root. Then he took the base of the ginger that was outside the human and begun to twirl it around inside him.

"Ack! That hurts! Godfather, why are you so cru-hu-huel ." Aleister sobbed.

Death cackled to himself. "Oh dear, I suppose I am, aren't I. But I can be much worse, you bring out my soft side, Shishaku~ hihihi." He licked and nibbled and pinched at the tender sore flesh whilst pulling the root in and out of the poor mortal. "If I were usin' my full strength you wouldn't have an arse left." The Viscount immediately tensed up at the sound of this, then moaned in pain. He despised that root is his ass.

'One day, I'll stick the darn thing up him! No, he would just enjoy it a lot more than I do. I know! I won't let him kiss my forehead or have tea and crumpets with me for a month. That would be bloody torture to him.'

For the next half hour, the Viscount was flogged relentlessly. First, he was turned over onto his back with his legs pressed onto his chest, stretching the tender skin to make it extra sore. Then he was bent over the desk, legs apart with his trousers around his ankles and subjected to many long range flogs with Death standing over him.

Aleister hung over the desk, limp and exhausted from his spanking. His bottom was redder than Grell's hair. The effects of the ginger had worn off entirely, leaving his little hole oh so very numb. He flinched when he felt Death slowly remove the ginger root. He promptly tossed the vile thing in the garbage, then walked over to his love and gave him a reassuring pat on the head. The mortal flinched and pulled his head away, whimpering.

"Come now, love, don't be like that." The Undertaker cood. "Look, yer punishment is over and you are forgiven. I won't hurt cha'." Death took out his pocket hanky, holding up the Viscount's head and wiping away the tears and other various liquids, then kissed him on the forehead.

Aleister squeaked and shuddered as he felt the headmaster rub his bottom with soothing lotion.

"Now, doesn't that feel better already?" Death asked. He had to keep on his gloves as not to hurt his sore lover with his nails. He made a memo to have them washed later.

His Shishaku had such lovely skin, so he always made sure to treat his wound after every spanking session in order to keep the man from developing scars.

" ...it does...a little." Aleister blushed. He wasn't too cross with his godfather anymore. He knew he deserved it and had to learn his lesson. Death really did care for him deeply.

He let out a faint gasp when Death slightly parted his cheeks again, revealing his now reddish and swollen rosebud, and applying lotion to it as well. He blushed furiously.

"To be perfectly honest, part a' me just wanted ta debilitate cha' for a while ta keep ya around. I really don't know how much longa' I'll be around here, I just want cha' all to myself fo' the time being." Death admitted. "Once yer all healed up, well be havin' a lot of fun~."

"Fun?"

"Of the pain free sort."

Aleister sighed in relief.

"If!" Death added. "You behave yerself."

The Viscount flinched. He'd have to muster every bit of self-control he had in him. Perhaps he'll just stay in the teacher's section.

After this, he was undressed and sent to bed. He regularly slept in the nude anyways. He'd be sleeping on his stomach for a while.

Death preferred a good coffin over his bedchambers, so he was happy to load his teacher's bedroom to his godson.

"Godfather…"

"Yes, love?"

"...Could you stay with me?"

With no hesitation, the reaper wiped off his outer layers and hopped into bed with the Viscount.

"Of course, dearie." He said a little too late.

"What do you think of tea and crumpets in the break room tomorrow?" The Viscount asked.

"Sounds lovely. I'll bring ya the best pillow ta sit on."