Chap. 9

Peter glanced at his son all through dinner. He noticed the squirming and wincing every time the kid moved. His behind was no doubt sore as a result of El's ruler spanking. The way Neal wriggled around to find a comfortable position almost made Peter feel bad for him, almost. He had experienced a few harsh spankings himself. He realized now that they were meant to keep him from trouble, just as he hoped the spankings he and El dished out were.

Neal helped his dad clean up the kitchen and the dishes from dinner before, gingerly sitting beside Satchmo and Angelo on the couch to study. He looked relaxed to the naked eye, but to Peter he seemed on edge and jumpy. Waiting on a punishment had never been easy for Peter and he doubted it was a cake walk for his son. Taking pity on his boy, the older man motioned him to the bedroom so they could conclude the reprimand.

Elizabeth made her way down the stairs, not wanting to witness her son being hurt by another parent today. She felt she had done enough in that department herself. Neal was still sore from her ruler paddling earlier in the day and because of that her guilt was eating her alive. She would talk to him later about the spanking.

"Come over here, son. Sit with me for a moment."

Neal sat beside his dad on the bed and bowed his head. He already knew why he was here and why he was about to receive yet another spanking.

"Tell me why you're in this situation, bud."

"I put my self in danger by breaking the rules you and Mom made to keep me safe. I made you guys worry."

Peter gently squeezed the back of his son's neck, trying to offer some form of comfort before he began the punishment.

"Mom and I love you, kiddo. We will do anything to keep you safe and healthy. We will always save you, son. Even from yourself."

Neal was launching himself at Peter before he realized what had happened. Peter was safety and security. He was comfort and kindness. He was Dad in every sense of the word and because of that Neal decided not to argue when the man ordered him to stand up and drop his pants.

Once Peter had Neal over his knee, he bared him to inspect the damage. There was no bruising, just four or five pink stripes from the ruler, all of which were already fading away. Deciding that his initial plan of action would suffice, Peter picked up the small wooden paddle and placed it on the trembling backside before him.

"I've decided that because of how much danger you were in, that I should impress upon you the importance of following the rules. Have you ever been paddled before?"

"No sir."

"Well, it's painful and you may hate me while I'm paddling you, but I would rather you hate me than have to identify the body at the morgue because I failed to take action. This particular punishment always left me thinking twice before I broke anymore rules."

"I am sorry for all the trouble I caused. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I know bud. And I'm sorry that it's come to this. But it has."

Peter again reached for the paddle and raised his arm. He wanted this to be over quickly.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Ow! Oww! Stop, Daddy! Owww!"

Peter dropped his knee, gaining access to the sensitive under curve of his son's butt.

"Almost finished, baby."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Neal bucked against his dad's legs as the waves of pain hit him.

"OwwwwOwwww! Daddy, please! Please, don't spank me anymore, please!"

Peter tossed the paddle onto the bed and rubbed his boy's quivering back. The paddling had been hard on his as well. He hurt his baby and he hated himself for it. As Neal continued to sob, Peter slipped the boxer briefs off of the kid and grabbed some loose fitting sweats. Neal's backside was a deep shade of red and Peter knew from experience that underwear would only add to the discomfort.

Once the sobbing quieted down to hurt filled tears, Peter righted his boy and helped him stand. Once the sweats made contact with Neal's inflamed rear end the tears turned into soft cries. Pulling Neal with him, Peter Burke leaned against the headboard of the bed and wrapped his arms around his son.

Neal lay on his stomach, crying quietly into his dad's chest. This had been the worst spanking he had ever received. It had also been the shortest. The paddle hurt! He never wanted to feel it again. Especially on an already well spanked rear end. Feeling his dad run his hands through his hair, Neal gripped the older man's shirt even tighter and cried some more.

"Neal, I don't ever want to have to do this again! I know how much it hurts; my old man used a paddle on me on a few occasions. It hurts like hell, but it also made me think about what I was doing and the trouble it might cause. No more of this, buddy. It hurts me just as much as it hurts you. I never want to hurt you, but I have and I feel terrible. Yes, I did it to keep you safe, but it still hurt you and I don't like that."

"I don't want you to do it again. It hurt so much, Daddy. It was awful!"

Neal knew logically, the paddling should not hurt as much as getting spanked with the hairbrush since he was always given more swats with the brush, but it did. That paddle was evil and he vowed to do anything and everything to avoid it in the future. With that out of the way, Neal burrowed into the broad chest of the first person to ever make him feel safe and drifted into oblivion.

Peter sighed as he felt Neal's breathing even out. This kid was going to be the death of him one day, he just knew it. Watching Neal, Peter felt his heart crack a little. The tear tracks on those delicate cheeks made his own eyes water. Letting his own tears fall, Peter slipped the sweats down to check the results of his handiwork. The rosy red behind was fading into a pink blush telling him that Neal would be fine by morning. That knowledge did little to assuage guilt, though. He would talk to El and Neal both later about the past few days, for now though; he was going to join his boy in sleep.