Sam's Research

Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments on my first story, Punishment! I may continue that story or write another separate story involving Holly and Dean. I have not decided yet. Let me know your thoughts or if you have any suggestions. Should I try to do a story with multiple chapters or just another separate story? Please comment, it motivates me to write.

This story is one I wrote awhile ago involving John and Sam. Let me know your thoughts on this one too. Thank you for reading.

Warnings: This story contains SPANKING of a minor by a parental figure (CORPORAL PUNISHMENT) and some swearing.

It was getting late and John was sitting at the kitchen table with a couple pieces of research he wanted to skim through again before he started dinner. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a mop of brown hair tentatively peeking around the corner. Undoubtedly his youngest who had something on his mind. When Sam did not come in right away John lifted his head and looked at him making eye contact.

"What is it, son?" John asked tiredly. Sam jumped slightly not realizing his dad had seen him. Sam found it very hard or down near impossible to seek up on his dad. His awareness of his surroundings was both impressive and bothersome.

Sam clutched his books to his chest taking a deep breath and walked determinedly over to John.

"Dad…" Sam began standing as tall as his little body would allow.

John looked at the books in his son's hands and did not have a good feeling about this. His youngest was a very intelligent boy and John was proud of his progress, but almost too often he was using anything new he had learned to challenge John in some way and it was annoying him to no end. Not but yesterday the boy was telling him why they should switch to skim milk, adopt a dog and listen to other music in the car other than John's Johnny Cash and Dean Led Zeppelin tapes which was fine by John if his son suggested anything else other than classical music.

…I've been doing some research."

John was a bit shocked and confused at first at the statement. His youngest taking it upon himself to research about hunting? That was a first. None the less John felt pride swell up in his chest. His son was finally taking the initiative. Gaining more knowledge was something John was all for, but that quickly changed when Sam laid the books on the table.

John had to bite his lip as he felt his mouth start to curl up in amusement. There were three books: Child Discipline Without Spanking, Spare the Child and The Case Against Spanking.

John looked up at his youngest boy and raised an eye brow giving him a challenging look. At this moment Sam's full rehearsed speech he was going to deliver had flown out of his head and instead argued quickly "You tell us to do research all the time."

"I do." John responded curtly giving his child a look that clearly read this kind of research is not what he had in mind, but Sam seemed to pay no mind to it.

"Well there are other punishments other than spanking you know." Sam began confidently.

John practically groaned and rubbed a hand over his tired face. He had just finished a hunt recently and his body ached and he was dirty and tired. The last thing he needed was his son giving him a lesson on parenting. Being only eight years old the boy seemed to think he knows more about the world then his father just after reading some books.

"I am well aware of that Samuel." John said calmly trying to keep the irritation he was feeling out of his voice.

"Then why can't you just send us to our rooms or something? The book said that it is better than spanking." Sam said pleading his case.

John raised a confused eye brow. "There is only one room, son."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Our beds then."

"Do not roll your eyes at me, young man." John said firmly giving his son a warning look.

Sam looked down. Oops.

"Let me get this straight." John said sitting up a little taller putting his elbows on the table and folding his large calloused hands together. "You want me to send you to bed as a punishment when you could be doing something productive like cleaning the weapons and PT."

"No, sir." Sam whined. "Like a timeout or something." Sam was getting flustered as he so badly wanted his dad to understand.

"I send you to the corner." John reminded curtly.

"Nooooo. Like a place where you can think about stuff."

"Can you not think in the corner?" John asked. Oh Sam thought a lot in the corner, but it was more about how sore his bottom was or was going to be.

"No, dad. Like sitting somewhere."

"You trying to make your punishments easier son?"

"No just different."

"Different huh?"

"Yes, sir. Like I don't know take away toys or things that we like…um have us clean the kitchen." That last suggestion sound pretty stupid to his own ears.

"So instead of a spanking you want me to assign you regular chores as a punishment? Something you already do because you live here?" John's voice had a clean growl to it at this point.

We don't live anywhere Sam thought miserably, but did not dare say it.

"Dad, I'm just saying there are other ways to discipline us. No one spanks anymore." Sam argued feeling really frustrated that his dad was not understanding him.

John took a deep breath before he spoke trying to not get too irritated. "I hate to break it to you son, but they do. I'm a hunter, so yes, I expect more than most parents, but I assure you I'm not the only one that spanks."

"But you could discipline different."

"Like what? Use a cane to spank you instead?" John teased.

"No!" Sam practically yelled. John's lips curled up again as he put his head down to suppress his laugh.

"Daaaaad, you're not listening." Sam whined.

"I'm listening son. The fact that you are doing everything to get me to drop spanking makes me think it's an effective punishment." John believed it wholeheartedly. He knew what worked and what was effective and despite his boy's efforts Sam was proving the opposite of what he intended in John's eyes.

"It's not! The books say…" Sam started to argue, but was cut off.

"Samuel. I don't give a damn what the books say. Do you like spankings?" John asked with in a stern demeanor.

"No." Sam said confused as to why his dad would ask such a ridiculous question. Of course not. They sucked. It hurt like a bitch as Dean so eloquently describes it.

"If I gave you a choice. Would you choose time-out or a spanking?"

"Well…time-out." Sam said reluctantly. He did not like time-outs either, but it would save him from a sore butt. His dad's spankings were not light and they gave a long lasting impression.

"Look Sammy, I'll tell you exactly how to get me to not spank you as a punishment…"

Sam's ears perked up. Maybe he was getting through to him.

"Obey my orders, be respectful and drop the attitude. The reason you got your little ass spanked yesterday was because you ignored an order I gave you and on top of that you gave me lip."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but John cut him off again.

"You don't want your ass spanked? Start obeying me."

Sam looked as though his little heart was broken in two. In Sam's young mind his dad didn't understand and would not listen.

John gave his youngest son a tired smile. "It is not the end of the world, son. You had your punishment, it is over and you are forgiven. Take the lesson and do better next time."

"Yes, sir." Sam said tightly trying keep the anger out of his voice. His blood was beginning to boil as he realized his dad was not going to drop spankings as a punishment. He wasn't even going to consider it. Sam knew it was a long shot to begin with, but he thought his dad would at least read one of the books and they could discuss it. Sam was fairly certain he could make valid points and maybe, just maybe, he could get his dad to see it his way.

The friends he met at this school don't have to do physical training, clean weapons, read Lain and they most certainly don't get their asses spanked. It wasn't fair. If his dad wasn't a Hunter it would all be different.

"What if you weren't a Hunter? Would you still spank us?" Sam asked pushing his brows together.

John mimicked his son's actions by pushing his own brows together thinking. He never really gave it much thought he had been hunting for a while now.

"Probably." John said remembering giving Dean a swat or two before Mary died.

Sam did not like that answer.

"Would we have the same stupid orders too then?" Sam asked showing clear defiance and a tone that was dripping with attitude. Sam felt great resentment towards his dad at this point and thought it wasn't just the hunting that made his life suck. It was his dad. He felt anger flow through him.

"Excuse me?" John asked in a low tone that dropped two levels deeper than his normal baritone voice. A clear warning that meant Sam was pushing it. Sam either didn't take the hint or did not care.

"You're being unfair with everything! You just like ordering us around that's all it is. Nothing would change because…because you're an asshole." Sam spat these words out of pure anger and frustration flicking his brain off completely. Blinded by his anger, Sam could not see the stupidity of what he had just said. Now Sam heard the word asshole a lot, mostly from Dean and other hunters and John used it, of course, so it simply slipped out as the first insult he could think of which seemed more sophisticated and grown up then 'butt muncher.'

John's eyes widened in disbelief then suddenly a dark shadow passed over John's face and his jaw tightened. John stood up in his chair scrapping it back with a loud screech. Sam automatically took a few steps back looking up at John as he felt his throat go dry, John glared at his son firmly staring daggers right through him. Sam was now realizing what he had said and who he had said it to. He was so dead. He was beginning regret not keeping his mouth shut, something he was not very good at, especially, when it came to his dad. He had been holding that anger in for a while and he finally released what he was feeling, regrettably not in the most intelligent way.

"Get your ass over here now." John said pointing to the spot in front of him. "You got three seconds, boy."

Sam stood frozen in place. His brown eyes widened as he stared at the spot his dad was pointing. He screwed up big time. He was going to get it, he knew it. 'How could I be so stupid?' He didn't mean to say it, he was just so angry it slipped out.

"One."

Sam let out a whimper that he held in his throat. He did think about running just for a second, but it would be useless not to mention suicidal. You did not run from John Winchester when you were about to get your ass beat. The punishment would be ten times worse. Memories of running from his dad shot through his mind.

"Two."

Oh Shit. He did not want to go over to him. He really really really didn't want to.

"Th…"

Sam bolted over to where his dad was pointing. John shook his head in annoyance. That boy likes to push his buttons. As soon as his son got to the spot John grabbed his forearm with one hand and with the other grabbed his chair he was sitting in and moved it out away from the table. John sat down and let go of his arm.

"Pants down." John ordered.

Sam let out a whine as he dipped his head down and felt tears line his eyes.

"Dad I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't, I'm sorry." Sobs were escaping his lips as he cried in distress. He was going to get spanked. Hard. He was so disrespectful. His dad did not tolerate disrespect in the slightest.

John stood up quickly grabbing Sam's arm spinning him to the side and landing two sharp spanks to the seat of his jeans. "Ow!" John had no doubt Sam was sorry now. Now that his little ass was about to get spanked. He was going to be a lot sorrier in a minute.

"Pants down. Now." John repeated, something he did not like doing. Sam started to obey opening the button and unzipping his jeans pushing them down just passed his bottom. John wasted no time grabbing him and pulling him over his knee. Sam hit his dad's hard knees with an "Oof" escaping his lips. John pushed his jeans down passed his knees and then to Sam's great horror gabbed a hold of his boxer waist bands and pulled them down swiftly to join his jeans. Sam felt the cold air on his exposed bottom and let out a sob of mortification. John wrapped a strong arm around his middle steadying him.

"I guess I don't need to tell you how disrespectful you were, little boy, but you know very well that I will not tolerate it." John looked at the top of his son's head. Sam was burying his face into John's jeans. John shook his head; the boy needs to think before he speaks.

"So instead of having a discussion you decided you wanted a spanking instead. That is fine by me, boy."

The hard calloused hand of his dad fell on his backside. Sam squeezed his eyes shut as the sing blossomed on his bottom. He grabbed a fist full of John's jeans trying his best to not cry out as his bottom began to sting more and more. It did not last long. After only the fourth swat Sam was wiggling, owing and hissing.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow! Dad I'm…I'm sorry. S-so s-sorry. I didn't mean it, really really didn't!"

John hummed lowly in his throat as he continued to spanking his son's bottom that was starting to turn a pink hue. His youngest always seemed to be to very very sorry at the beginning of spankings in hopes that he would stop just because he was sorry and every time John disappointed him.

It was ironic that the whole discussion started with Sam saying how much he didn't want a spanking, but again like many times before Sam dug himself a hole he could not get out of. He was greatly regretting opening his mouth at all. He could never just let things go, he always had to open his mouth and express his feelings much to John's dismay who never excelled in emotional things or chick flick moments as his eldest would call it. It's not that John could not speak emotionally. He loved his son's dearly, but it was the way his youngest went about it. He would keep it all in and get himself fired up to his boiling point then exploding in John's face. In turn that would fuel John's fire and Sam would end up with a red bottom by the end.

Sam was crying openly as his dad continued his assaulted on his son's bottom. Large tears were falling down his nose and dripping onto the floor. As each swat came down on his butt Sam's little heart was beginning to realize that the hunting, violence and the loneliness were not going to end. Deep down in his heart he knew that the hunting would never truly stop and a chance at a normal life was not possible. That ended the night his mother was burned on the ceiling above his crib. The strict discipline and training would not stop, his dad made up his mind and that was that. A normal life like his friends was beyond his reach and would not happen. He will have weapons training instead of sports, Latin, Celtic spells and exorcisms instead of art, history and economics, hotel rooms instead of home and he would be reserving spankings instead of time-outs. John was making that clearer with every swat. Sam was to obey and say yes sir.

John had three simple rules, which were simple in theory, but difficult for young boys of 8 and 12 years old; be respectful, follow orders and do not lie. John had never anticipated this life, ever in his wildest dreams, but ever since his beloved wife passed away in the most brutal fashion. Life had changed and revenge was greatly on his mind driven by grief and despair. Anger often creeped within him and wanted to kill each and every supernatural son of a bitch that dared harm families and loved one. Mary was gone and there was nothing he could do to change that horrid fact, but the one thing he could do was get revenge and save as many lives as he could. In the process sacrificing his life and his sons, John always new even if he had not sought out revenge and tried to lead a normal life, it would crumble. It would not stop the evil that sought them. It would find them and he would not let his sons be unprepared when the time comes they will be ready and they will fight with everything they have. They were going to be survivors. Strong and independent. John would not allow anything less than 110% from his boys. Their lives depended on it and if spanking them meant keeping them in check and in line so be it. It was hard for John to punish his sons. He did not enjoy it one bit, but, as a father, it was not his job to be liked. It was his job to raise his son's right. And he full intended to. They would be respectful to their elders, gentlemen to women, be disciplined and focused on their duties and responsibilities, protect and watch out for each other and always aid those in need.

John recognized how young his boys were and they did not deserve this life that they were thrust into, stripped of their innocence too soon, but it was done and they could not go backwards. Perhaps it was John's stubbornness and need for revenge that prevented them from a normal life, but John was scared, terrified that his boys would suffer the same fate as his wife. He was determined to not let that happen thus the training began and the military man came out. Strict discipline was enforced profoundly. His son's childhood was lost and it hurt John, but not as much as if they died.

Respect was huge in John's eyes. It was something he learned from the marines that he carried with him. John liked order and running things efficiently and effectively. It was simple and straightforward that helped him think clearly allowing him to thrive in the hunting world as it had in the military. He demanded it from his sons.

John swore and was known to cuss up a storm at times. He did try to watch his mouth around his sons, but he often failed miserably. He was not good with words and most of the time he found only swear words to express himself. When Mary was alive he was a lot better at watching his mouth because she didn't approve of it, especially when she first got pregnant. Her children were not going to hear cussing. Well that plan failed and John cured himself (ironically) for it. John was mainly surrounded by other hunters those who had particular colorful language that he knew his boys picked up on and sadly found them fascinating and very adult-like, cool even. It seems when John gets angry, scared or frustrated his filter all but disappears. Dean is the worst and Sam follows his big brother lead. His boys have been known to slip out a cuss word in front of him now and then. Most of the time John regrettably lets it go because it did not bother him. When it would get out of hand usually a quick reprimand, threat of soap or a swift swat to the ass usually deters them, but swearing at John was a whole different story. It was absolutely unacceptable and his boys' backsides would always pay the price every time.

Sam wiggled and squirmed wildly attempting to escape the blistering swats. He was thinking of nothing else but the endless heat on his backside. John shifted his knees and trapped Sam's legs under his.

"Nooooooooo! D-dad! Owwwwww!"

John didn't like doing that, but it allowed him to insure that he was not going to injure his son. His target was his son's bottom, nothing else.

After a bit Sam was becoming horse from his constant crying that began even before John started the spanking which was not unusual for his youngest.

John released Sam's legs shifting them back on top of his knee. Sam felt a sudden relief that the spanking was over. His bottom was throbbing and stinging fiercely, but just like Sam was wrong about convincing his dad spanking was not needed, he was wrong about this too. John shifted his knee so that his son's bottom was sitting up higher giving him accesses to the sensitive under curve of Sam's backside.

Oh no! Sam knew this all too well.

John does not tolerate disrespect.

SMACK.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

John quickly swung his palm down giving Sam a stronger reprimand to think about the next time he wants to swear at him. Sam begged for John to stop and after a few more swats to his now dark pink bottom he did. John let Sam cry over his knee a bit placing a gentle hand on his back. When Sam was calm enough John guided him up from his lap. Sam stood before John sniffling wiping his tears away with the back of his sleeve. He reached back and gave some much needed comfort to his blazing backside. Sam's eyes were slightly red along with his cheeks (both sets). His chestnut locks were a straggly mess most strands sticking all in the wrong directions. He wore the face of a well spanked boy.

John waited for the boy to pick up his jeans and put them back on, but Sam made no move to grab his pants. Dean would always choose his pride and dignity over the pain in his backside, but Sam chose comfort. Pride be damned. His bottom hurt.

John shrugged. Sam was young. He gently but firmly grabbed Sam's arm and stood him in front of him. Sam's eyes were focused on his feet. John took a curved finger under his boy's chin and lifted it up to meet his eyes.

"You do not swear at me. Ever, young man. Am I understood?" John was calm, but his voice was firm and unyielding.

Sam sniffed. "Yes, sir."

John gave him a curt nod. "Good. I will not tolerate disrespect. Next time you get angry and want to swear at me. Don't." It was hardly helpful advice and perhaps a bit hypocritical, but it was clear.

Sam apparently finding that unsatisfactory argued.

"But you swear when you're angry."

For someone who just got their bare bottom spanked, Sam was proving to be a stubborn. John was curing his younger self. Payback is a bitch. John held back a growl. He wanted a yes sir, but this was his youngest and his youngest needed more of explanation.

"Do I swear at you?" John asked rather challenging.

Sam squirmed slightly at his dad's stern look. "No, sir."

John hummed. His point had been made.

"But you swear." Sam pushed.

John looked up at his son clicking his tongue.

"I do, but that does not mean you get to swear, young man."

"But that's not fair." Sam said looking confused and annoyed, but was sure to keep his tone respectful. His butt hurt.

"Samuel I am in no mood to argue. You are not to swear; unless you want to go back over my knee we can discuss the unfairness of it…"

"No!" Sam shouted as a dread came over him. Discuss? Over the years Sam learned that when John said they would have a discussion it was never an actual discussion. It was John Winchester code for an ass beating. "No, sir." Sam added quickly showing respect.

"Hum." John hummed. "Thought so."

Sam reached behind him grimacing as he rubbed his bottom which was still stinging and aching something terrible. He gave his dad an accusing look and was not met with sympathy like he wanted, but a face that clearly read 'you have no one to blame, but yourself' which he felt was not true he didn't spank himself.

"I'm never going to sit again." Sam frowned feeling very sorry for himself and his poor bottom.

John snorted. "You'll survive."

His dad's lack of sympathy was not usual. When John delivered a spanking to one of his boys he was sure they deserved it and did not feel bad for carry out what was deserved. However, that does not mean he enjoyed it. He hated it, but found it necessary.

"Dad…" Sam began nervously.

"What is it, son?" John asked gently encouraging Sam to continue.

"We're never going to stop hunting, are we?"

John swallowed as he felt a lump in his throat. His face remained firm and serious as he looked his son in the eye. "I don't know." John said softy. Was it a lie? John did not know, but would evil ever leave them alone? He did not know and it hurt not knowing.

It was Sam turn to hum as he looked down at his feet again. His face was sad.

"Hey." John said getting his boy to look up at him once again. "That's why we got to prepare and be ready for anything. Research is a huge part of that. It is just important as training, but I suggest you do it on things that will help you in hunting, not something that you wish to argue with me about. I will assign you a book on Celtic signs that I want you to read. And you can take those back to the library tomorrow."

John gestured to the three books that still lay on the table.

Sam sighed. "Yes, sir."

"Are you sure you don't want to read them?" Sam hanging on to childish hope that maybe, just maybe his dad would see the light.

John gave his son a stern look. "As I said before, young man. You don't want me spanking your little ass then start obeying me and most certainly do not swear at me."

Sam sighed once again defeated. A "Yes sir" came automatically from his lips.

"Hey." John said once again getting his son's attention. "Come here." His voice rumbled soothingly beckoning his boy to him. Sam, more than willing, walked towards his dad's comforting voice. John put his big calloused palm on the side of his boy's face and looked into his son's big brown eyes that were familiarly his own. He saw so much of himself in his boy. He loved him dearly. He loved both his sons with a fierce intensity that it scared him. He could not and would not lose all that he has left in this world. He stared at his boy for a long moment enjoying the feeling of love he had for his boy.

"Dad?" Sam looked a little worried when his dad said nothing.

John smiled warmly snapping out of his thoughts.

"You need a haircut." John mildly mused.

Sam practically gasped. "No I don't. It's not that long yet."

John expected that response and grinned. There was a point when John could not stand it and it would need to be cut, but it was fine for now.

"Your beard's getting long." Sam expressed trying to take the attention of his hair.

John raised an eyebrow. "Is it now?"

Sam smiled and nodded cheekily.

John hummed as he pulled his boy in for a much needed hug that Sam was dying for. Sam snuggled into John's embrace wrapping his arms around his dad's large body.

"I'm sorry dad." Sam muttered softly into John's shirt.

"I forgive you." John said rubbing his son's back comfortingly. John pulled him away from his embrace after a long while and stood up.

"Wait here." He ordered his son as he left the kitchen area to go to the bedroom. He came back with a pair of sweatpants and tossed to his half naked child.

"Put those on." He ordered. Sam suddenly feeling embarrassed grabbed his boxers and quickly slipped them on then put on his sweatpants his dad tossed him. His cheeks flushed as he realized he had been standing there with no pants on for a while. John gave him a half smile as he walked towards the kitchen ruffling the boy's hair affectionately as he passed.

"Dad, since I got spanked. Can you make spaghetti?" Sam asked taking this opportunity to gain something out of this misery he was filling on his hindquarters.

"You will eat what I make, kiddo." John said simply with his back turn as he pulled out a pot from the cabinet.

Sam let out a big sigh. "Yes, sir."

Sam turned grabbed his jeans off the floor and headed to the bedroom area of the room. Dean was sitting on the bed watching cartoons. He turned and smiled at his brother as he walked in.

"So how'd it go? Convince Dad that spanking was bad parenting?" Dean had certainly heard everything and could not pass up the opportunity to tense him. After all what kind of brother would he be if he didn't?

"Shut up, Dean." Sam growled feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he put his jeans in the dresser.

Dean laughed. "Awe come on Sammy. Did you honestly think that would work on our old man?" Dean understood John a lot more then Sam did and often found himself completely baffled by his brother's antics and cluelessness.

"I donno." Sam shrugged it was worth a try…well was it? He gave his bottom a rub. Nope.

"It kinda did the opposite which is kinda funny."

"There is nothing funny about it, Dean. I don't see you laughing when you get your ass handed to you." Sam shot out in his defense.

"Oh little brother. Didn't you just get spanked for swearing? I'd watch that mouth." Dean mused with a tisking to his voice that was more of a lighthearted tease then a scolding.

"Dad doesn't care about saying 'ass'"

"Humm maybe we should ask him." A knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"No." Sam said quickly thinking about his bottom. His dad usually didn't reprimand them for saying 'ass' because he said it himself all the time, but still didn't want to take the chance.

Dean smiled and patted the bed next to him. "Come watch Cartoons with me."

Sam walked over and slowly laid on his stomach reaching behind him grabbing a pillow and putting it under his head.

"Boys!" John called from the kitchen. It was dinner time. It was surprisingly nice having their dad home. He had just finished a hunt and was now looking into something else, but he had some time to be with his boy. Dean was particularly happy that he didn't have to make dinner tonight.

"Dad can I…" Sam began as be looked at the wood chair like it was going to bite him.

"No Samuel. Sit down." John said knowing exactly what Sam was going to asked. John never let his boys stand at the dinner table after a spanking. They did something wrong, they have to suffer the consequences, all of them. It was part of the punishment in his mind. His ass was still functional.

Sam let out a whine as he slowly lowered himself into his chair. It was uncomfortable for sure and Sam began to shift in his seat trying to find the best position. When he realized there wasn't one he stopped squirming.

John put the pot in the middle of the table. Sam's lips slowly turned into a small smile. It made the sting in his bottom more bearable. It was spaghetti. Perhaps his dad had some compassion for his sore bottom after all.