Chapter 2: Edward

"It was 1918," I began telling the story of my 'first time' to Jasper, "the year that Dad 'changed' me. That was a pretty rough year, for both of us, but there came this one time in particular…"

Chicago, 1918…


Edward Cullen was bored.

His new father, Carlisle, was busy working at the hospital. There was still much illness going around.

Unfortunately, this meant he left a very bored seventeen year old vampire alone most of the day and night.

He always left him school work to do, he was very firm that he learn as much as he could, but somehow he always managed to finish it by the night.

So, he usually went up to the roof tops for some 'exercise'.

He had always enjoyed running as a human, but now as a vampire it was pure ecstasy.

To be able to run and leap from building to building, being only a blur of movement to the humans below, was invigorating for the new-born vampire.

After about the fifth building or so, he stopped to listen at the thoughts around him.

This was something else he had to get used to…this ability to read minds.

As a human he had been very perceptive to what people—especially his folks—had been thinking, but now he was able to literally read people's thoughts and it was very distracting at times.

At the moment, he was hearing the thoughts of a bunch of young men—not that much older than he was—discussing what they wanted to do.

Edward grinned. So, they want to rumble, do they?

He had been looking for an excuse to test his enhanced strength and prowess, and here was his opportunity.

Of course, Carlisle probably would disapprove…but then again, Carlisle didn't have to know.

Smiling, Edward dropped down from above, startling the group of tough 'hoods'.

"Evening, gents," he greeted them, his golden-brown orbs glowing in the street lamps, "heard you all talkin' and thought I'd drop in for a 'chat'."

They all glared at him.

"What do ya want, kid?" the obvious leader of the group asked. "Did ya want somethin' or were ya just lookin' for a beatin'?"

Edward smirked. "The only one getting a beatin' tonight, boys," he told them, "is you."

"Get him," the leader ordered, and as one they all charged the teenage vampire.

Edward moved with the speed of a cheetah, taking out the first three by throwing them back against the alley wall. They slumped dazed.

The next two, he kicked between their legs and then punched them in the guts. They went down, hard.

The leader, however, he decided to play with a bit—allowing him to get in a few good swings before punching him squarely in the face.

The man flew back to join the first three, slumping down against alley wall.

Unlike the others, however, his blood began to flow from his broken nose.

The scent of the blood overpowered all of Edward's careful control and he started to lunge for the man's throat.

Suddenly, there was an arm around his waist and he was pulled upward.

He found himself on the rooftops again and then was tossed over the shoulder of whoever had him.

They were running and leaping across building—blurs in the dark—in a matter of seconds.

Only once they were back at the building that Edward recognized as 'home' was he deposited on his own two feet again.

He saw that the one who had carried him this far was his father, Carlisle—and he didn't look happy.

Carlisle pointed to the door leading inside.

"Get inside to your room," he told him, sternly. "I'll be in to 'talk to you in a moment."

Edward hadn't ever seen Carlisle angry before, and he didn't like it one bit. "But…" he started to argue.

"Son," Carlisle told him, "do as I tell you. Now." There was a low rumbling his chest.

Edward gulped, and then turned to obey.

He headed inside and went straight to his room to sit on the settee that he used for reading.

It, his piano, his radio, and a bookcase were the only things in the room.

Carlisle came inside a few minutes later. He looked calmer, but still no less angry.

"What did you think you were doing, Edward?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "You could have killed those men?"

"I wasn't planning to bite them," he defended himself. "I was going to rough 'em up a bit."

"What did they do to you?" Carlisle asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Edward glanced down at the floor. "Nothing," he mumbled, knowing that his vampire father would hear him.

Carlisle narrowed his eyes even more. He sighed.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I came home early," he said, shaking his head.

Edward looked up at him. "What do you mean?" he asked, curiously.

"I knew you had been feeling lonely, Edward," Carlisle told him, "and I realized that I haven't been doing a very good job of teaching you what you need—so I've taken some time off from the hospital and we're going camping for a few weeks."

"We are?" Edward asked, wide-eyed. "I've never been camping before."

Carlisle smirked. "I figured you hadn't," he said, but then frowned.

"That's why when I got home and found you gone I decided to follow your scent. I know you like to travel the rooftops…but I certainly didn't expect to find you fighting."

Edward sighed. "I was bored," he admitted, "and I wanted to test my strength."

Carlisle nodded. "I know," he said, "and I understand that…but that still doesn't make what you did any less wrong, Son."

Edward bit his lip. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Tell me, Edward," Carlisle asked, coming over and sitting down next to him. "What would your human father have done had you pulled such a stunt like this before being 'changed'?"

Edward wrinkled his nose. He knew exactly what his father would have done.

"He'd have blistered my backside," he admitted, sheepishly.

Carlisle nodded. "Very well," he said, "then that is what I shall do as well."

Edward looked up, startled. "P-Please, don't," he gasped, "I said I was sorry!"

"Yes, Son, I know," he said, "but you still must me punished."

Gently, yet firmly, he grasped his arm and pulled him face down across his lap.

"You are my responsibility now, Edward," Carlisle said, placing one hand on the boy's back and raising the other above his head, "and that is a responsibility I take very seriously!"

He brought his hand down hard across the boy's backside, causing him to yelp.

He began spanking in a steady rhythm, concentrating on the center of the buttocks and the sensitive under-curve where it met his thighs.

Edward had not received a spanking in years, and so he began squirming almost immediately.

Edward. Carlisle sent silently at the boy. If you do not hold still, I will be forced to bare your bottom…

The squirming stopped immediately. Edward bit his lip, as more swats reigned down.

After the thirtieth smack, one delivered to that even more sensitive (now) under-curve, he began to cry tearlessly.

"I-I'm sorry, D-Dad," he gasped out. "I-It won't happen again."

Carlisle knew the boy had learned his lesson.

He stopped spanking, slightly in awe of the fact that the boy had called him 'Dad'.

Until now, Edward had referred to him as simply 'Carlisle'.

"I know it won't, Son," he told him, as he gently rubbed comforting circles into the boy's back.

He let the boy up and pulled him into a hug.

"I hated doing that, my son," he whispered into boy's ear.

"It wasn't much fun for me, either," he said, grimacing as he reached back to rub.

Carlisle chuckled. "We'll be leaving for the Pacific Northwest tomorrow," he told him, standing up.

"We're still going?" Edward asked, surprised.

"Yes, of course," Carlisle told him, grinning. "If it is exercise you want, Son, then that is exactly what I will give you."

Edward smiled. "I really am sorry, Carlisle," he said, quietly.

Carlisle nodded. "You've been punished and forgiven, Edward," he told him. "Don't worry about it anymore."

Edward nodded. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, quietly.

"Son," Carlisle said, turning around with his hand on the door knob.

"Yes?" the boy asked, looking up.

"Will you try to call me 'Dad' more often?" he asked. "I like hearing it."

Edward grinned. "I'll try," he said, sincerely.

Carlisle nodded. "I'm glad," he said, and then exited the room…

"And so, the next day we came out here and he taught me how to hunt for the first time," I finished my story, glancing at Jasper.

"He didn't teach you before then?" He asked, puzzled.

"He taught me the basics a bit in the sewers," I explained. "You know, how to smell my prey, how to track by smell—that sort of thing. But that first camping trip was amazing, because it was just the two of us, you know."

He nodded. "It must have been nice," he said, grinning slightly. "Did you feel embarrassed that he spanked you?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I was," I told him, grinning.

"Even for 1918, seventeen was a bit old for that sort of thing—my human father hadn't spanked me since I was fourteen—but I knew I deserved it. Besides, it wasn't like he could ground me or anything—there wasn't much to ground me from. I stayed inside most days, anyway."

He nodded, understanding. He then glanced at Emmett.

I punched him on the arm. "Your turn," I teased, earning a glare from him.

He nodded. "All right then, bro," he said, smirking, "listen up 'cuz my story is waybetterthan his."

I rolled my eyes.

Only you, bro, would turn this into a competition.

Jasper, however, was all ears as Emmett began his 'first time' tale.

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