Jory glanced around the room. The fire was casting a warm glow. Nothing glowed as brightly as the pink behind Eyan was sporting in the corner. It needed to be quite a bit redder before they could all go to bed.

Jory did have a strap in his desk that his uncle gave him when he was promoted to this job. He hated the sight of the thing. It was fine when he had some big lug bent over his desk to get a whipping for falling asleep on watch or a drunken brawl. A few cracks of that strap hurt like the sting of a hundred angry bees.

This couldn't be a severe and impersonal thrashing. In this case, Eyan was young and would never forgive himself if he wasn't purged of the guilt he was feeling. Maybe the boy reminded Jory a bit of himself? At any rate, he needed to draw out the sting without harming the lad.

He thought of Cook's big wooden spoon and how it straightened out many a child and servant fooling around in the kitchen. No, that thing was too harsh. But didn't Cook also have that butter paddle? He remembered Cook using it on his daughter Turnip, when she was caught skipping her chores. Now, she was one of the hardest workers in the castle.

Jory's eye lingered on his supper tray. There was the remains of the deer meat, some wine, some olive oil and bread, and a cheese tray. Hmm, that cheese tray might be as effective as Cook's butter paddle. Jory tossed the remaining cheese rinds into the fire and hefted it. It was pretty light. It had a handle and a flat square blade that was a bit larger than his hand. He had never used a paddle on any of the lads before. This might do. He also placed the olive oil by the chair. He really didn't want to badly bruise the lad.

There was only one way to find out.

Jory turned to find Eyan's rubbing his behind frantically with both hands. Hadn't he warned him to keep his hands at his sides?

"Hands on your head!" Jory snapped. Maybe he needed to be a bit firmer. This lad was stubborn.

Jory swatted him smartly with the paddle. POP! The spot instantly left a red impression.

Eyan cried out, "Ouch! Sorry, Ser. Please, it hurts more than...I can take." The tears had dried on his face. Aye, the boy seemed to have a bit of an attitude at times. With his bright, lively eyes and blonde hair, he looked more innocent than he actually was.

"We have a ways to go, Young man. It going to hurt more in a few minutes. You can and will take this so we can move on. Now let's get you back over my knees," Jory said leading the boy back to the chair. Jory pulled his leather britches further down to his knees to expose more of the tender thigh area. He flipped him back over his lap and arranged him quickly.

"I'm going to rub this oil in to prevent you from bruising," Jory said as he started to massage the now warmed oil into Eyan's rear. Eyan shifted a bit as the rubbing felt good, but his skin was still flaming. Jory coating the oil also on Eyan's thighs a bit. He again pinned down Eyan's leg with his right leg as he picked up the make shift paddle.

Pop! Pop! Swat! Swat! Swat!

"Arghhh...Owww.." Eyan squirmed violently. The oil, though soothing at first, seemed to make his behind more sensitive. Spank. Spank. Spank. The paddle made loud popping noises as Jory made sure to cover Eyan's whole backside steadily. This was the perfect tool to make an impression on this impulsive young lad. Crack. Crack!

"Are you going to disobey me again?" Jory asked bringing the paddle down sharply a little lower to the tops of Eyan's thighs.

"Owwie, gods, no. Never, Lord. ! Please," Eyan begged as he turned to see what hard object was spanking him so thoroughly. A small paddle? It felt like he was being licked with fire!

. .POP.

He started sobbing and wailing. He lifted his hand to try to protect his behind. Jory pinned it to his back and paddled a bit firmer and faster. To Eyan, he felt like the spanking was never going to end. He wasn't shamed anymore, just sore and panicked. His leather breeches and Jory's restraing leg helped keep his legs from kicking as hard as his wanted to. .Crack. Jory swatted another fifteen times until Eyan stopped bucking and yelling and just accepted the punishment. All Eyan could do was sob and know that he was not in control. His Lord Captain would keep him here until he had learned a good lesson. Eyan hopped he would never see Ingrit again. Swat! Swat! POP! The last three were much harder swats directly on Eyan's sit spots. Eyan howled loud enough to make sure that every guard knew that someone was getting a thrashing. Many, including Jory himself, had been here before. No one would guess that Eyan was over Jory's knee getting paddled soundly. Smack! And one to grow on...

Jory put down the paddle on the floor and let go of Eyan's hand.

"Shh..Shh. You are fine. You are forgiven. You paid the price. No one is vexed with you. Good lad. Shh...," he rubbed his back soothingly.

"What must you do if this happens again?" Jory asked.

"Run! Run and tell you what happened," Eyan said.

"What if someone offers you coin to disobey?" Jory further questioned.

"I will not. I will not disobey..ever,"Eyan cried. Jory was reminded of the boy's youth. They had all made terrible mistakes before. Perhaps few had been caught red-handed like Eyan. He would learn and mayhaps be the one doing the discipling of the young himself. Jory certainly never saw himself as a leader until his uncle had shown him that he was one.

Jory brought his palm down crisply on the well-spanked behind. "That's not what I asked you, young man." Eyan let out a howl. That smack stung!

"Sorry...Sorry, I will not take coin and tell you," Eyan finally answered correctly, finally catching his breath a little.

Jory gently rubbed the rest of the oil over Eyan's posterior. It almost glowed in the fire light, but Jory didn't see any signs of bruising.

"I am sorry, My Lord Captain," Eyan said sincerely, as Jory finally tried to stand him up.

Jory was surprised that Eyan turned and hugged him tightly. He returned the embrace and closed his eyes. He needed this, too. It was a long ordeal for all involved. In Winterfell, there was almost always room for forgiveness when one wanted it. Eyan's handsome face was streaked with tears and his nose was running like a little boys. Jory dampened a supper napkin with water and wiped his face clean.

"It's all over, Eyan. You took that well." Eyan seemed to perk up a bit.

"But if I ever caught you disobeying or not doing your best to reflect the ideals of House Stark, that paddle will come out again. I might even ask Darick to help hold you down," Jory smiled. Jory decided to keep the paddle in his desk drawer right next to the dreaded strap.

"Aye, my Lord, I will behave. Darick would enjoy that much too much," Eyan joked. Eyan hissed as he pulled his leather breeches over his sore rear.

"Indeed, he would," Jory agreed. Darick hastily redressed, now grateful not to have worn his small clothes. His breeches felt much to tight and he was tempted to try to rub out the sting in his behind, but a little afraid he would get another smack there. Jory pulled him into another quick hug and started to walk him out.

Jory ventured, "Well, I'm sure whatever you got wasn't as bad as..."

Then, they heard a wail...it seemed to be all the way from the kitchen.