Thank you guys so much for the reviews and love! I'm immensely enjoying writing this story. I'll probably do another Supernatural next time too, but maybe a little on the darker side of things, like my first story was. What do you guys think? Also, anyone watching "The Boys" on Amazon Prime? Who can't wait to see Jensen as Soldier Boy?! I'm digging it!

Sam was in the library when a still teary-eyed Emily emerged from her room with Dean behind her, a hand pressed firmly to her lower back. Part of her understood, understood Sam's anger and frustration at her, but the other, more stubborn part of her, was not amenable to a second punishment by her boyfriend's (boyfriend? Was that what he was now?) younger brother. It wasn't fair, she reasoned to herself as Dean walked her to her doom, Dean had already spanked her AND they had already cleared the air. From the amount of yelling Sam had done in the car, she was pretty sure he wasn't going to be trying to hear her out any time soon. Her bottom still stung, not badly enough that she thought she was bruised, no, it had definitely been a light punishment by Dean standards, but she knew that this was not going to be a picnic. And it felt...weird. Off. Dean wanted to be with her, he wanted her as his, he'd made it very clear to her and yet he was allowing his brother to punish her too? Was that normal?

Were they normal? Emily snorted to herself at the thought. Normal wasn't something that was in a Hunter's vocabulary, there was nothing normal about them or about their life, or lifestyle. Spanking's by men you were gifted to seemed to be, almost as regular an occurrence as seeing ghosts and demons were. Her heart beat a little faster when the door opened and there was Sam, angrily typing something on his laptop. He didn't even glance up, his face etched into a picture of calm frustration. Emily stood there awkwardly, fidgeting with the edge of the tee shirt she'd changed into after Dean's "talk" with her. Dean cleared his throat loudly, the only thing that made Sam look up, eyebrows raised. Emily blushed and looked at the ground and Dean took that opportunity to propel her further into the room not stopping until he'd lead her into one of the empty corners between two bookshelves, planting her nose there firmly. She immediately whined at the childish implications and Dean answered with a resounding SMACK to her shorts-clad backside that made her squeal. "Uh-uh," he chided, his hand finding the back of her neck and pressing her nose back to the stark white corner. "Sam and I are going to talk, your nose is going to stay right here and you are going to think of what you're going to say to Sam when he comes back in. If he finds you out of the corner, I'll tan your hide again sweetheart."

Emily stamped her foot, not at all helping the juvenile aspect of it all, and opened her mouth to protest again but Dean was quicker and two more stunning spanks hit the backs of her thighs, immediately making her contrite again. Tears prickling the back of her eyelids, she leaned her forehead against the wall and felt Dean step back, making a satisfied click of his tongue. "Good girl," he teased her slightly, and if she hadn't been facing the wall, she would've stuck her tongue out at him.

Emily felt Dean leave the room and she rolled her eyes, moving her hands back to rub her stinging rear. This was the worst thing he'd ever done, she would've taken a belting over having to stand here like a naughty toddler in time out, and she was pretty sure that Dean knew that and it was why he'd chosen this very punishment for her. Sam and Dean stayed out in the hall for awhile, Emily wasn't sure how long exactly, but it felt like forever. While they were gone, she did exactly as Dean had suggested and thought. She thought about Sam's reaction to her showing up there, thought back to his warning in the living room when she'd been pushing Dean, thought about all the talks he'd given her, the warnings, the insight into Dean's past. She'd taken all of that and shoved it right back into his face by showing up and putting them all in danger. She was pretty sure his anger came not just from the fact that she had disobeyed orders, but that she had betrayed him. He tried so hard with her and she just kept letting him down.

Tears had started to drip down her face without her even realizing it, hot and salty they fell in little rivers down her cheeks, and her shoulders slumped. She was so ashamed. She didn't even realize that Sam had come back into the room until she felt Sam's hand on her shoulder and she automatically turned into him, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her wet face into his tee shirt, sobbing brokenly. Sam seemed surprised by the reaction, it took him a moment to return her hug, but once he had wrapped his own long arms around her and squeezed her tightly, she felt better. Pulling backwards, she looked up to his face and saw that his expression had changed, no more silent fury, just disappointment. The "dad" face as she liked to call it in her head. He took her arms in his hands and held her back a little so they were face to face before he spoke, his voice quiet.

"I'm really upset with you, Emily. I vouched for you. I stuck my neck out for you. I told you to quit and that we'd figure it out and you went behind my back," she lowered her gaze at his words, her cheeks burning crimson in embarrassment. Letting down Sam was the worst feeling in the world. Dean? Dean was easy to anger, he was easy to incite a reaction from, he forgave easily and he punished without hesitation. But Sam didn't. Sam was gentle and kind and patient. He was the big brother she used to fantasize about when she'd dreamed about having a normal family, a mom and a dad, a little sister who copied her and a big brother who protected her. That was Sam.

"I'm sorry," she said tearfully, her voice cracking a little with sincerity. "I really am, Sam. I never think before I do anything. I let you down."

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes not giving away much before he nodded in agreement, letting go of one of her arms. "Thanks for saying that, Em. My trust isn't given easily and it's not going to come back easily. But it's a start."

He was leading her towards the desk now, and that was when she saw it through her haze of sadness and regret, sitting on top of the desk as plain as day, so innocuous to a normal eye but to Emily? It was a jolt.

A paddle.

It wasn't a large paddle, not like those fraternity ones she'd seen in movies or saw hanging in rich guy's offices on jobs, no, it was a smaller paddle, long and thin, it looked like it was weathered, made from solid cherry wood, and the handle was short and stocky, just long enough for Sam's hand to wrap around it. Sam seemed to feel her pull back slightly and he shook his head, sighing a little. "Emily." His tone was warning and she looked to him, her eyes frantic.

"You're not...you can't...hit me with that?" She said incredulously, and at that, Sam finally smiled, a tiny, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"I can, and I will," he responded plainly. "This was our dad's. He reserved it only for the most serious of infractions. His dad made it. Three generations of Winchester asses have been busted by this thing, and now you're about to join the ranks." He picked it up, testing the weight in his hand, and even Emily didn't miss the small grimace he made as if remembering how it felt himself.

"Sam!"

"Emily!" He mimicked back, shaking his head at her. The repentance he'd gotten from her earlier seemed to be fleeting in the face of this serious punishment. "Dean and I talked. You're getting ten. That's it. You can and you will handle it. And if you want to start earning my trust back, I'd suggest you start showing me that you really mean it when you said you're sorry. Bend over the desk, please." The formality of it would've made Emily laugh under normal circumstances but now? Now it was making her dizzy, her head spinning at the prospect of getting ten strokes with that beastly looking thing. But Sam was right. She did this to herself and she had broken his trust. She deserved it and she was a grown-ass woman who could handle herself and this little paddle of his.

So she bent over. Her shorts weren't much protection but Sam tugged them down anyway, and he paused, seeming to be assessing the pinkness of her skin. He placed the paddle next to Emily's turned cheek, so she was staring right at the grainy wood. She bit her lip as Sam ran a hand over her bare ass, and when he spoke again she almost jumped out of her skin, so concentrated she was on that horrid instrument of torture. "I'm giving you a warm up first, so your skin doesn't bruise when I switch to the paddle."

"Wow how thoughtful," she spat under her breath, and Sam seemed to catch the roll of her eyes because a sharp sudden spank was the reply, followed by another three, evenly across both cheeks. "Ow, Sam! What the hell?"

"Language," he said sharply, landing one more hard spank. "That was for the eyeroll and the sarcasm. Let's refocus ourselves, shall we? You are getting spanked, and you are going to be respectful while you are or you're going to get strokes added. Is that what you want?"

"No," she sniffed, the fight moving out of her at the threat. Another sharp slap answered.

"No?" She groaned, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear even though she was loathe to force the words from her mouth.

"No sir," she said quietly. That seemed to get his approval because the next spanks he landed were gentler, for Sam at least. A uniform pattern that he always stuck to continued across her bare globes, her flesh screaming in protest as he re-brought a bright pink to her tender flesh. The hand spanking lasted all of five minutes, but when he was done, she was relieved. Until he reached over to pick up the paddle. He moved to her right side and his free hand pressed her firmly down against the wood of the desk, leaving no room for escape.

"I won't make you count this time, but you're going to stay in position and you're going to think about why you're here," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. Tears prickling again, Emily just nodded and repeated her earlier "yes sir," knowing it was what he wanted to hear.

"Good." There was a small moment of silence and then a whoosh of air as he drew the paddle back and brought it down firmly across the top of her ass, lighting an immediate band of red on her cheeks and eliciting a yelp from the girl beneath him. He didn't hesitate now, CRACK! SMACK! SMACK! Three more hard spanks landed, each just barely overlapping the other down to her tender thighs. She screamed with each one, tears streaming down her face as the white hot pain lit into her backside. It was horrible, stinging worse then anything she'd ever experienced and she didn't know how another six was going to be possible. Counting helped her focus again and so she drew in a shaky breath and waited.

WHAP! CRACK! Five and six fell, and she bucked against his hand, but he didn't relent. SMACK SMACK! Seven and eight in succession, right on the tender sit spot of where her ass met thigh. She was sobbing now, the pain was so intense she was sure he was spanking right through to her soul. The last two were the hardest, one on her thigh and one on the very center and then the paddle landed next to her and it was done. She laid there, quietly weeping, letting the pain sift through her body, settling into a low, achy throb before she felt Sam's hands on her again, carefully tugging up her shorts, carefully helping her stand, her body feeling stiff from the hard edge of the desk digging into her hips. Her ass burned horribly, but she felt strangely better. Like guilt had been literally beaten out of her.

"It's done," Sam soothed, pulling her in for a hug. She allowed him to hold her, letting him stroke her hair softly, while she allowed the last of her tears to fall. When they finally pulled apart, Sam affectionately ruffled the top of her head, and slung his arm around her shoulder. "Guess it's really official now, you got paddled like we did, you're a Winchester."

She let out a shaky laugh through the tears, wiping them away on the back of her hand as she gave him a watery smile. "I guess so."

That evening while Emily laid on her side, careful not to let her burning ass hit the mattress, reading a chapter of her book, she didn't so much as flinch when Dean came to lay beside her. She just snuggled her sore ass into his hips and sighed contentedly. She felt whole. She felt at home.

She felt loved.