*

Dean closes his eyes, mortified at the position he finds himself in. Could this be any more humiliating? Shit, he wishes Sam would just hurry up already!

He gives the ropes around his hands an experimental tug. Nope, he's bound up pretty tight, each wrist wrapped and then lashed together, the middle part hooked around the metal bed rail by a bungee cord.

He feels Sam move behind him and holds his breath but…nothing. Not yet, anyway. Dammit, Sam, hurry up!

He's across Sam's lap, splayed out on the bed for all the fucking world to see, pants and underwear down around his ankles, ass up, exposed, waiting. He's never felt so wide open and humbled in his whole life. His face is hot with embarrassment and he doesn't know how he's going to ever be able to face Sam again after this. What the fuck was he thinking, asking his brother to do this? Dean should have just let Sam leave and saved himself this awful situation.

Damn, he's been waiting for freaking ever! The anticipation is killing him! How long is Sam going to make him 'think about things'? He squirms, moving his hips a little, hoping to get Sam's attention, to remind his brother he's still here and waiting for Sam to just get on with it!

Sam shoulda just laid him on the bed and tied him up, like Dean did to Sam when it was Sam who was getting the spanking. That was just pure decency but this...this is too personal, laying across someone's lap, you're all pulled in close and their hand is on your back and your dick is pressing into their legs and your ass is right there...

Seems worse having his pants pulled down for some reason. Dean'd rather be buck naked than this - still having all his clothes on and just having 'em yanked down. He's still got his socks and shoes on, for Christ's sake! There's just something seriously wrong with that!

Since Sam put him here, his heart's been going like a trip hammer and he can barely breathe, the only thing in his mind is his brother, his bare ass in the cool air and what's coming next.

This is totally different than the session he had with the Chief. There, he'd been in control, telling the 'Dom' what he wanted and stopping it when he wanted. Not for nothing but he'd been standing, too, which gave him some dignity, and he'd been stark naked, which seemed proper and right.

Now, he has no control, nowhere to hide and it's all Sam, whatever Sam wants, whenever Sam wants and Dean can't do anything at this point but just wait and worry. It's scary and exciting, humiliating and frightening and Dean can feel his muscles trembling, his nerves aware of every air particle that touches his ass.

Jesus, this waiting is fucking killing him! That's all he's been doing since they left the bar!

*

Dean sits in the Impala, waiting impatiently for his brother to come out.

After Sam told him what to do, he sat down at the bar and ordered a beer, ignoring Dean, not even glancing at him, expecting Dean to follow his orders. So Dean had done just that, draining his beer and settling accounts, waving to Gina and leaving the bar, walking quickly outside. He climbs in the passenger side, fishing out the keys from his pocket and putting them in the ignition so Sam won't have to ask for them.

He's been here for over ten minutes and he's starting to get a little antsy, his skin beginning to crawl with worry. He doesn't really like pain, not like Sammy does, and he's kinda dreading that part of it. He knows it's necessary so he'll take it to make things right, to get forgiveness for his actions from Sam and himself so they can move on. Truth is, Dean doesn't even know if it's going to work, he's never been brand-new or clean in his life so he's pretty sure he won't be able to get back to a place he can't recollect he's ever been.

At least Sam is here now, with Dean, and for that, he's so eternally grateful and life's a hell of a lot better than it was an hour ago. So what's a little pain if it means he can have Sam back? It'll pass quickly and then tomorrow things'll be better with them and they'll be right with each other again.

The light in the parking lot creates long shadows all around him and he sees Sam coming out of the bar, walking around the car slowly, opening up the driver's side door. He doesn't get in immediately, just stands there and Dean doesn't know what he's thinking or feeling until Sam's voice crosses to him, "Eyes front, Dean and keep them there."

Dean looks at Sam once more and swallows hard over a suddenly dry throat. He forces his gaze forward, trying to relax into the seat but failing miserably. He takes a breath and mutters, "Sammy…"

"No talking. Just sit there and think about what you've done to deserve the spanking you're going to get."

Dean's stomach hits bottom with a thud at Sam's words and he rubs his legs with his palms nervously, feeling the tension around his balls, his chest tightening and it's hard to breathe suddenly. Sam gets in the car and Dean tries to see his face in his peripheral vision but can't tell if he's angry or playing or what. The silence is making him crazy and without even realizing it, he starts drumming his hands on his legs to a beat that only he can hear.

"Dean, stop the noise."

Shit. He stops, rubbing his hands together before clasping his fingers and resting them in his lap. He stares straight ahead, quietly and thinks about things like Sam told him to. The guilt on his shoulders weighs heavier with each memory, each stupid act, each wrong decision. By the time they reach the motel, Dean is hunched forward with it, wanting to crawl into the ground and hide away so he doesn't have to look at himself anymore.

Dean reaches for the door handle as soon as the car is parked and Sam's voice stops him. "Stay still."

Sam gets out of the car and opens the door for Dean, reaching in to grab an arm and pulling him up out of the seat. Dean gives his brother a questioning look but Sam just pulls him close, saying firmly, "Eyes down."

He's pulled by the tight grip around his arm up the sidewalk and into the room. Sam locks the door behind them and walks Dean over to a corner, leaving him standing there facing the wall with a short, "Don't move." while Sam rustles around behind him.

Dean stares at the wall, the guilt covering him like a shroud and he hopes this works because if it doesn't, he doesn't think he can live with himself for how much he hurt his brother. He knows Sam can't. He can feel the pain still coming off Sam in waves. He silently promises the wall that he'll do better by Sam with this second chance he's gotten.

"Ok, Dean. Come here." Sam calls to him. Dean turns around and sees his brother sitting on the bed, staring at him. He walks over and Sam motions that he wants Dean to stand to his right, next to him.

"Tell me why you're going to get punished, Dean."

"I, um…" Dean lets out his breath in a rush and his words come out stilted, stuttering, "'Cause I was a f-fucking idiot. I was mean and selfish and...I wanted you to be jealous and I-I hurt you real bad. I was a stupid jerk and I'm s-sorry, Sam, really sorry."

"Yes, you were and you're going to be even sorrier in a little while. Now, drop your pants."

Dean jumps a little at that and stares at Sam in surprise, "What, here?"

"Here."

"But...you're not going to get me naked? Tie me to the bed like I did you?"

"No."

"But..."

"You acted like a spoiled brat. So, you'll get spanked like a spoiled brat. Across my lap. Now, drop your pants. If I have to say it again, you're going to regret it."

Dean's mind is racing, trying to figure out this change in his scenario but his hands obediently go to his jeans and he unsnaps and unzips them. He pushes them off his slim hips and they drop to the floor. He starts to kick them off and Sam stops him, "Leave them on your ankles. Shorts, too."

His face starts to burn, high spots of color reddening his cheeks and he can't look at Sam, can only stare straight ahead, embarrassed, as he thumbs the waistband of his cotton underwear and pushes them down, too. His dick is heavy between his legs, but he can feel the excitement already stirring there, and his erection is starting to grow. He knows Sam sees it but he's ignoring it, taking up some rope and binding Dean's hands together.

He reaches up, takes Dean by the arm and pulls him across his lap, adjusting his position so that his ass is lifted up, his legs splayed on the bed behind him, the jeans and shorts helping to bind his feet together. Sam reaches over and hooks the bungee cord around the metal bed rail, around Dean's ropes and back on the bed rail, securing him nicely, and allowing him to rest on his elbows on the mattress.

"If you kick me, I'll tie your legs down too, do you understand?"

"Yes."

Sam slaps his ass sharply, "Yes, what?"

Dean clenches the cheek that was just smacked and exhales the sting away before gritting out, "Yes, SIR!"

"Do you understand why you're getting punished, Dean?"

"Yes...sir."

"Why?"

"I already told you."

"No, you didn't."

"I told you everything I did wrong, Sam. Do you...do you want me to say it again?" Dean asks the question very carefully, making sure it doesn't come out like a smart-ass remark. He's not in a great position right now to be letting smart-ass remarks fall out of his mouth.

"You're getting punished because you asked to be punished."

Dean closes his eyes in shame, his voice coming out a whisper, "Yes."

"You're ashamed?"

Another whisper "Yes."

"Because of what you did or that you asked for this?"

"B-both, I guess..."

"You should be ashamed because of what you did, not that you asked for my help. I'm going to give you a few minutes to lay here and think about what's coming next. I'm still mad as hell at you, Dean and I'm not going to hold back. Do you understand?"

Dean feels the sting of tears behind his eyes as he says softly, "Yes."

"Ok. I'll let you know when I'm ready."

*

So, here he lays, staring at his rope-bound hands and the mattress underneath, wishing he were anywhere else in the world but here, waiting to get his ass whupped by his little brother.

Sam's hand touches his bottom, rubbing it gently. Dean tenses and then, as his brother continues the soft caress, relaxes into Sam's warm fingers, arching up into the touch. Feels nice.

He hears Sam's husky voice, "It's time, Dean."

The first crack lands on his ass and Dean stiffens, wincing in pain, blowing out his breath in a huff.

Holy fuck, that hurt!

That was ten times harder than anything the Chief gave him and Sammy's just getting started. How the hell is he going to be able to take this?

Dean suddenly realizes he's in deep shit.

*