Pretty severe spanking of a minor in this chapter. Don't like don't read (though im pretty sure you're committed if you've read this far by now lolol). I don't own Narnia!
Edmund stood in front of Peter fearfully, waiting for him to reveal just what sort of awful punishment he had in store for him. Peter regarded his little brother sternly, but there was something else in his eyes. Sadness? Edmund felt his throat tighten upon noticing. Peter wasn't just angry at his bad choices over the last couple days--he was saddened by them. The realization made the desire to escape wane a bit, replaced with a desperate desire for his brother to forgive him.
"Ed," Peter spoke quietly. "For yourdisobedience, I'm going to give you a long and hard spanking with the hairbrush." Edmund bit his lower lip hard in response, feeling the blood rush to his face. "For your foolishness and for putting yourself in danger, once I've finished with the hairbrush, I'm going to spank you with the strap as well." Edmund whined and tried to back away from Peter, but his brother had a firm grip on his wrists. He was shaking his head. "It greatly pains me to do so, but I promised it to you and it is going to happen. And I daresay, mate, you have earned every stroke."
"Peter--" Edmund's voice broke as he began an attempt to reason with his brother, but Peter spoke over him.
"For stealing a horse from my ranks and not giving it the proper care, your riding privileges are henceforth revoked until you demonstrate to me a greater and more improved awareness of your surroundings and care for your safety, as well as the safety of the creatures you are responsible for." Edmund opened his mouth, but Peter held up his hand. "And for your spitefulness towards Lucy, you will not be allowed sweets of any sort for the rest of the month." Edmund bowed his head, biting back protest. He didn't have it in him to argue. "Do you understand?" He nodded. "Do you have any questions?" He shook his head. "Good. And Edmund, I fully expect that if you have not done so already, that you apologize to both Susan and Lucy for what they have had to put up with as a result of your foolishness. Agreed?" Another nod. "Tell me you will."
"I will," Edmund mumbled.
"Fine," Peter pulled him in and looked up at him. "I do none of this to be cruel, Edmund. Indeed, it breaks my heart to have reason to chastise you so. But, brother, you have to know that it would break my heart all the more to have any sort of harm befall you. And when you deliberately put yourself in harm's way, that is more than I can bear. Even more than I hate to discipline you."
Edmund was biting his tongue. He wanted to lash out, to yell at Peter that it wasn't fair. As if reading his thoughts, Peter continued. "Every action has a consequence, Edmund. I know it all seems perhaps a bit harsh to you, but I don't think that it is. In fact, it is more than fair. When you make poor choices, you reap poor consequences. I know it's disheartening. It upsets me, too." When he received no response from his shamefaced little brother, Peter quietly sighed. He let go of Edmund's arm, palming the hairbrush. "Take off your trousers." Stifling a sob, Edmund complied. "Fold them and hand them to me." Edmund's fingers fumbled as he struggled to fold the trousers. He held them out to Peter shakily, who took them from him and placed them at the head of the bed on top of the pillow. "Thank you. Over my knees, Edmund."
Edmund hesitated, breathing hard, fighting to keep his face from breaking. Peter gave him a look of warning. "Right now." He tugged on Edmund's other wrist gently, wanting to give him the opportunity to obey without being forced. Finally, after swiping at his eyes with his free arm, Edmund shuffled forward and draped himself across Peter's lap. The elder wrapped an arm around his waist.
"Do you understand why this is happening?" Edmund nodded, swallowing hard before burying his face in his arms. "Tell me why, then," Peter commanded firmly.
"I--" Edmund's voice caught in his throat. "I disobeyed."
"How?"
"Because--" Edmund's voice hitched. "You sa-said that I couldn't come with to hunt. And I decided to sneak with anyway." Peter nodded.
"And?"
"I...I didn't brush the horses like you told me to," Edmund squeaked. "I went off on my own instead."
"Yes. As well as putting not one but two of my horses at risk."
"...what?"
"Zoiraa," Peter spoke firmly. "You had no weapon. If some beast had come out of the trees and lunged at her, she would have gone down and you would have been absolutely defenseless to come to her aid, let alone your own." He paused to allow what he had just said to sink in, then straightened his back. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me before we get started?"
"J--just that I'm sorry," Edmund gulped, his entire body stiffening at the reality of how rapidly his punishment was nearing. "I am sorry."
"I can imagine you are," Peter replied. "I can also tell you that you are not nearly as sorry as you're going to be when this is over. Now. You know the rules. Keep your hands in front of you at all times. Would you like something to hold onto?" When Edmund nodded, Peter handed him one of the pillows at the head of the bed. The boy wrapped his arms around it tightly. "If you reach back, I shall increase the number of strokes you're to receive with the strap after this. Do you understand?"
"Y'sir," Edmund mumbled, his face hidden in the pillow.
"Right then. Deep breath in and out." Edmund drew in a shaky breath and let it out quietly. "I love you, Edmund. This isn't at all how I wanted to spend this day." And with that, Peter wrapped an arm around Edmund's waist tightly before bringing the hairbrush down with a SNAP.
Edmund let out a gasp, and then a cry, and then fell completely quiet for the next few strokes, the invasive, burning pain shocking him silent. He tightened his grip around the pillow, clinging to it with an iron grip. Bloody hell, that brush stung.
Peter continued the pattern briskly, sharp slaps landing all over Edmund's bottom and thighs. Edmund gritted his teeth for as long as he could, panting and bouncing his legs a little. He tried to distract himself, even tried holding his breath, but after too long, it just hurt too much. The brush fell with searing accuracy until he thought to himself that there was no way that he could stand one more slap to a particularly sore area...and then, of course, it fell there anyway. He collapsing into hard and heavy sobs, wailing low as Peter was unrelenting. "No, no, Peteeerrr," he sobbed, "pleeeaaasseee..." The elder sighed as he continued. "It huuuuuurts, please, I can't, I can't, it hurts so bad," came Edmund's shrieking cry a couple minutes later, "I can't take it, I can't. No, no, it hurts, stop, oh, stop, it hurts. Pleeee--heeaasseee, please..."
His pleading gave way to howls of pain as Peter moved down to address his thighs exclusively, holding Edmund tightly as he kicked and writhed. Edmund's attempts at words were lost to both of them as he found himself completely taken over by the red-hot stinging and burning. He could only shriek and bawl and beg and wait for it to be over. He couldn't, however, see the tears in Peter's eyes as well, as his older brother bit the inside of his cheek in order to finish the task.
And after a couple more minutes (which seemed like an eternity, of course), it was over. Peter didn't wait for Edmund to calm down; he jerked him up and into his arms, holding him tightly. Edmund grabbed Peter's shirt, sobbing desperately into his neck. Peter rocked him and hushed him, his hand against the back of his head, humming. He kissed as much of Edmund's damp cheek that he could, continuing to rock his little brother until all he could hear were Edmund's quiet sobs and gasps.
"Edmund," Peter spoke quietly at last, "please hand me the strap." His brother jerked up in response, then collapsed against his chest
"Oh please," Edmund sobbed, "please could I have a bit of a break? Could we do it to-tomorrow? It hurts, Peter," he cried, hot tears running afresh as he felt his older brother move, unsure whether or not his movement was indicative of a "yes" or a "no". "It hurts so much. I can hardly stand i--it. Please, can we do it tomorrow. Please..."
"Shhhhh," came Peter's soft reply. "No. I'm sorry, but we're going to finish this now. I can certainly give you a few minutes, though. I know that was a hard one." Edmund burst into the fresh sobs he had been holding back as Peter hushed him, fingers brushing through his hair. "I'm sorry that it had to hurt as much as it does, Edmund," he spoke quietly into his brother's ear. "It gives me absolutely no pleasure, you can be sure of that, brother." His other hand rubbed Edmund's back.
"I'm afraid," came the whimper, followed three quick little sobs. Edmund nuzzled his face deeper into Peter's shoulder, who pulled him in tighter with a deep sigh. Strengthening his resolve, Peter spoke at last, leaning close to Edmund's ear to make sure he heard his words.
"Remember this feeling, brother. I assure you that the fear I felt in those woods at the prospect of losing you again was far greater than your fear of any strap." When Edmund didn't move or speak, Peter pushed ahead, squeezing his eyes shut before he murmured, "if you ever disregard your safety like that again, I promise you, I will make the 3 strokes you are about to receive feel like a mere slap in comparison." Edmund stiffened. "Do you hear me?" He nodded. "Words," Peter commanded sternly.
"Yes sir, I understand," Edmund spoke huskily. He was nearly lightheaded with relief at hearing that Peter only intended to give him 3 strokes, as opposed to the monstrous beating he had drawn up for himself in his head.
"Hop up." Sucking in his breath, Peter helped Edmund to stand. His little brother's lip trembled; he picked at the back of his hand and stared at his fingers, unable to meet Peter's gaze. "Hand me the strap," Peter commanded, firmly, yet tiredly all the same. He desperately wanted this whole awful ordeal to be over, yet felt the gnawing in his gut that told him that he had to get through to Edmund now if he wanted to be able to sleep at night and not worry himself sick about him.
Edmund bent down and retrieved the strap. Straightening, he felt its weight in his hand and felt his stomach turn chilly with dread. Peter relieved it from his grasp before he had a chance to think on it further. He set it next to him, grabbed Edmund's wrists, and pulled him back across his lap. He wrapped an arm around his brother's waist and crossed his legs so that the bottom half of his torso was raised. Forcing himself to ignore his brother's quiet yet frantic sobbing, he said, "I love you, Edmund. Remember what I said and why I'm doing this." Edmund began to pant in anticipation. Peter coiled the give of the strap until he had a small enough piece to use. He tightened his grip around Edmund's waist. "Deep breath, little brother." Edmund sucked his breath in and held it.
The strap smacked down unforgivingly (but not so hard that it was cruel) onto Edmund's thigh. Feeling the impact, his legs jutted out and he let out a watery shriek, arching his back. The second stroke fell, just a bit firmer than the first. Still recovering from the first, Edmund gasped for air before wailing, just as the third and hardest stroke landed. He dissolved into hard, wracking sobs. Peter let the strap drop to the floor and placed his hand over the punished area, blocking Edmund's hands from rubbing away the sting. Edmund instead tried to push himself up, but Peter held him down tightly. "Not yet," Peter spoke over his brother's cries. "We're going to stay here for a bit. I want you to calm down." Edmund fought, desperately wanting to shoot up and run away, which was exactly what Peter thought he would do. He held him tightly until he ceased to struggle, hanging limp over Peter's lap and crying brokenly.
Only then did Peter lift Edmund up to stand in front of him, keeping a firm grip on his brother's wrists. His brother hung his head and continued to sob, looking completely defeated. Peter steeled himself, reminding himself that it was imperative to be strict and firm, if only for just a few moments more. "Quiet," he commanded in a low voice. "Look at me." Edmund looked up, swallowing hard and struggling to maintain his gaze. Peter spoke slowly.
"You're going to get another identical strapping, right now, if you feel that my disappointment and urgency has not been fully communicated."
"No," Edmund gasped, shaking his head urgently. He pulled back from Peter a bit, the thought of a second strapping causing his stomach to turn.
"Is that what is needed, Edmund? Am I going to need to have another conversation with you a week or two weeks from now because your utmost consideration is not for your safety or your family or your subjects, but for your own agenda and entertainment?" Edmund was still shaking his head. "Do you understand the gravity of what you did? Answer me verbally."
"Ye-hes sirrr," Edmund sobbed. Peter stood.
"Never again. Have. I made. Myself. Clear." Peter grasped his brother's chin, forcing his to meet his eyes.
"Yes, sir." He whispered desperately. But Peter was still glaring down at him.
"Never again, Edmund," he repeated, "Do anything of the sort again and you will wish for a punishment this lenient. Do you understand?"
"Ye-es, sir...I u-understa-and." Edmund trembled just a little. Peter bore into his eyes with a stern gaze for a few seconds, then spoke.
"Then put your trousers back on." Peter stepped back from him, sitting back down on the bed and allowing him to gather his clothing. Edmund winced as his undershorts and trousers brushed against sore skin. When he was fully clothed, Peter held out his arms. "Come here," he requested softly. Edmund fell into them, his shoulders shaking, and Peter pulled him down onto his lap and into a crushing hug.
To be continued!
