Hi.

Before I say anything else, I just want to mention that the quotes inscribed on the boys arms in the last chapter were taken from the Rasputina song "Girls School". I forgot to include that in the last authors notes.

Thanks so much for the reviews and story alerts and stuff :)

Hope you enjoy the next chapter x

"Seventeen, sir."

Kurt was bent over Principal Lowry's desk with his pants and underwear around his ankles. His ass felt like it was on fire and he was sure that by the end of this ordeal, it would be blistered. Karofsky had been right, of course; the principal had not at all been pleased at being awoken at this ungodly hour and was sure as hell making sure Kurt knew what he thought about it. Not only was he hitting him with as much force as he could muster, but he was using a paddle that had some raised metal bumps on it, that was slowly but surely stripping away the top layers of Kurt's flesh with every stinging strike. Each blow sent his body rocking forward, even though he was gripping onto the desk for dear life, so hard that his knuckles were growing white. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on himself, nursing his injured ass, though he knew that that would result in a hundred more spanks.

The next smack came hard and fast and sent a fresh surge of hot, raw pain all over the entire length of his body. Kurt bit back a gasp and squeezed his eyes shut hard, trying desperately not to let the hot tears forming in the corners of his eyes falling down his cheeks and making themselves known.

"Eighteen, sir," he announced, shakily.

He thought he was going to vomit. Normally, the principal would be making sarcastic, 'helpful' comments in between each hit, but there were none tonight. He was using all of his energy into delivering the hits, making sure that he put the entire weight of his body into his arm and hit Kurt so hard that each time, his legs wobbled unsteadily and both of his feet were almost lifted from the ground. He could feel something warm and wet trickling in between his legs and realised that the strikes the principal was administering were so hard he had started to bleed. Oh god. A single, solitary tear escaped from his closed eyes and rolled down his cheek. He knew better than to lift a hand to wipe it though.

He felt the pure hatred in the next strike and because he couldn't make a sound without receiving further punishment, all the screams were in his head. His entire mind felt like it was going to explode from the amount of screaming; all coherent thoughts had vanished and all he could hear was yelling and crying. It was so loud it gave him a headache and he thought his eardrums might burst.

"N-Nineteen, sir."

He almost faltered, but he shouldn't get punished for 'almost'. As cruel as the principal was, as long as Kurt followed order, he'd be in safe (for lack of better work in this situation) territory. Not like Bickerly, or Banks, or any of the mentors, who would be watching and listening for the slightest slip up, only to pounce on them and double or even triple the abuse. He could feel the warmth trickling down his right calf now and he chanced a look down, only to wish he hadn't as he saw a couple of fresh, red spots on the floor. He knew they were from his wounds because the many other red patches had long dried and dyed into the wooden floor of the principals office. The wooden panels were tinged a dull, dark red and there was hardly any of the original colour of the wood left.

He shut his eyes again, to stop the room from spinning round, though his head still swum and his stomach churned with nausea. He was sweating - he could feel his hair sticking to his forehead with perspiration. But even so, there was a cold chill running through his body and made him feel like he was going to pass out. He had been sent to bed without supper following the punishment yesterday when Principal Lowry had carved the quote into his arm and the lack of food certainly wasn't helping. His stomach felt like an empty pit, though admittedly, food was the last thing on his mind right now. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his bed and curl up, away from the horrors that Dalton Academy was inflicting.

Kurt cried out.

He couldn't help it; the next strike was so hard that his arms - that were supporting the entire weight of his body - buckled from the force of the smack from the paddle and his head crashed against the shiny oak table. The pain that he felt when his head made contact with the wood caused everything to go black for a couple of seconds, and vibrated a dull ache all over his body. He only came to when Principal Lowry delivered a further three strikes right in the crack of his ass that made him want to howl out in pain again. All the same, he knew he had to acknowledge the strikes. He used the last bit of strength he had inside of him to straighten his arms and force himself back into position.

He quickly garbled out: "Twenty, twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, sir." He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut once more, waiting for the next one. Nothing happened for a while, so Kurt remained in the same position. After a while, he heard footsteps walking away from behind him and he opened his eyes yet kept them locked on the table in front of him. From the corners of his eyes, he saw the principal put the paddle back on one of the shelves, away with the rest of his instruments, before he walked back over to the desk, to the left side of Kurt. He grabbed his chin roughly and tilted his head back, forcing Kurt to look at him.

"I want you to remember this beating, Hummel," he practically snarled, the fury in his eyes clearly apparent. "If you step out of line again, you'll be receiving it every single night for the rest of the year, understood?"

Kurt nodded as best as he could within the grip and replied, "Yes sir." Principal Lowry gave a small nod and released the hold. Kurt let his head fall forward limply, like a deadweight. Principal Lowry began sorting through some papers on his desk and nothing was said for a while. Before he even realised what he was saying, Kurt had stammered: "M-May I leave, sir?"

Principal Lowry looked up thoughtfully and Kurt's heart sank. He should have known better than to ask.

After a long and horrifying silence, during which Kurt had already resigned himself to receiving a repeat performance of this for at least the rest of the week, the principal announced, "Off you go. And I've hoped you've learned your lesson."

"Yes sir," Kurt replied. He bent down slowly, so as to not aggravate the pain he was feeling in his backside. Every single small movement was like a carving knife being sliced into his ruined flesh. He pulled up his underwear, wincing when the tight material rested against the cuts and the bruised welts on his ass. He did the same with his pants and then slowly shuffled towards the door, pulling it open weakly.

Karofsky and Wes were outside. The former was whispering vicious things into the latter's ear, though he stopped when he saw Kurt departing from the principal's office and grinned evilly. His grin grew wider as he saw Kurt walking with a limp, in obvious discomfort from the beating he had endured. Kurt looked away, and instead focused on Wes, who was looking at him with a mixture of fear, knowing he would have to endure the same, and sympathy, from what Kurt had just been through. Kurt had to break his gaze away from Wes too; his sympathy was enough to bring him to tears and he did not want to give Karofsky the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

The principal announced he wanted to see Wes, who stood up slowly, casting a final look of resignation to Kurt, who only saw it from the corners of his eyes.

"I'll be back for you, Bailey," Karofsky spat, as Wes made his way into the principals office, before he shut the door behind him. He then turned his attention back to Kurt. "Did it hurt, Hummel?"

Kurt didn't respond, and although Karofsky would have done it anyway, Kurt's refusal to reply seemed to make him angry and he grabbed Kurt's forearm roughly and used it to forcibly lead him down the corridors, back to his dormitory. He was walking purposely fast, so that Kurt almost fell over in trying to keep up with him. He was forced to take large strides in order to keep up with the older and bigger mentor, and he found that this caused an agonising pain on his ass as it rubbed uncomfortably against the scratchy material of the Dalton uniform.

"You're never going to get out of here, Hummel," Karofsky said, as he led him down the corridor. His tone was low and purposeful. "I'm gonna make sure that you will never leave. I'll make sure you fucking die in this place, queer."

Kurt was numb. The brief spark of hope he had felt at the chance of escape had already dulled into a distant dream, but all the same, hearing Karofsky's spiteful words was like a confirmation, no matter how much he didn't want to believe them. The words were echoing in his mind, taunting him from every angle and his knees suddenly buckled. He collapsed onto the floor in weak defeat, though Karofsky immediately hauled him back up to a standing position and laughed out loud. His laughter was mocking and cruel and rang around the empty school corridors. He knotted two meaty fists in the front of Kurt's shirt and used the grip to slam his back against the stone wall. The action made the back of Kurt's head connect with the wall and it sent a dull, vibrating ache down his spine, reverberating in his ears loudly.

"Feeling weak?" Karofsky sneered, getting too close into Kurt's personal space, so close that Kurt felt like throwing up at the hot, rank breath ghosting against his face. "I bet you're real hungry," he added, licking his lips slightly. Kurt shut his eyes weakly, earning himself another hard slam against the wall indicating that closing his eyes was not an option right now. Kurt sucked in air through his teeth, and fought hard against closing his eyes again from the sheer pain it caused.

"You want something to eat, Hummel?" Karofsky continued viciously. "Well I got something for you to eat."

Kurt's mouth suddenly felt very dry as he realised what Karofsky was referring to and he looked at him with wide eyes. At that point, something seemed to trigger inside of Karofsky, who immediately released his grip from Kurt's shirt, before backing away slowly.

"Go to bed," he mumbled, after an uncomfortable silence had passed. Kurt's heart was hammering against his chest, but all the same, he stared at Karofsky for a while, all thoughts of blatant insolence not going unpunished vanishing from his head. Karofsky stared at him in anger for a moment, before he looked shamefaced and turned his attention to a spot near Kurt's feet.

"I'm not going to tell you again, Hummel," Karofsky spat. "Bed. Now."

Kurt would never forget the day when he turned up to his old school wearing a vintage Alexander McQueen jacket. The importance of owning such a piece of history was lost on most of the unwashed masses at McKinley, yet it didn't matter, because it was his. He had debated whether to wear it to school or not, but in the end had decided it would be unfair of him to keep such a fabulous item of clothing to himself. He soon realised that that decision had been a mistake, however, when one of the Neanderthal jocks dumped a blueberry slushy over his head as he had been making his way to the cafeteria for lunch. As the ice coldness dripped down his face and trickled uncomfortably down his neck, Kurt had looked down and seen the previously pristine white jacket now tinged a disturbing shade of blue.

The only thing Kurt had on his mind at that moment was rage. Pure and utter rage. Yet it was nothing compared to how he was feeling right this very second.

Karofsky had continued to march him to his dormitory after their little incident and they had completed the rest of the journey in silence. He had flung the door open and jerked his head towards the door, indicating Kurt to go in, which he did. The door was shut behind him, yet Kurt made no move to go to bed.

He felt his fists clenching of their own accord and his whole body was actually shaking and fizzing with white-hot rage as he stared at Joseph's bed. It was dark, so he couldn't tell whether Joseph was awake or not, but all Kurt could see imprinted in his mind was the malicious smirk on Joseph's face as he locked them out of the dormitory earlier that night. What the hell was his problem? What happened to all that stuff about sticking together in Science? Had it all been a front? Whatever the reason, Kurt didn't care. He had to deal with enough bullshit from the staff at Dalton without having to endure it from his fellow students too. And as Joseph wasn't staff, Kurt felt it perfectly justified to hit him. But not just hit him. Kurt wanted to rip his hair out by the roots. He wanted to gouge out his eyeballs. He wanted to feel Joseph's skin embedded under his fingernails as he tore strips off of him. He wanted him destroyed.

It took every bit of self-restraint and reasoning not to confront him right there and then; it was only Kurt's rational voice advising him that causing another scene and having Karofsky haul him to the principal again would not be a good idea. Instead, he satisfied himself by giving Joseph's bed a long, cold and hateful glare, before slowly making his way over to his own and changing into his bedclothes for the second time that night.

Once changed, Kurt sat down on his bed, wincing at the harsh pain that ran through his ass at the contact. Gingerly, he tucked his feet under the covers and was about to lie down when a low voice cut through the dark silence of the room.

"How's your ass, Kurt? I bet Lowry did a real number on you. I think I heard your screams all the way from here." It was Joseph.

"Fuck you, Joseph," Kurt snapped. He heard Joseph's smirk from the other side of the room and it was almost enough for Kurt to throw back his covers, run over to Joseph's bed, and start pounding his face in.

"Where's Wes?" Joseph continued maliciously. "Bet he's not coming back tonight. He probably got beaten so bad, he's haemorrhaging right now. I wouldn't be surprised if he was in a coma or something."

"Why did you do it, Joseph?" Blaine, evidently, was not asleep, and his tone was angry and accusatory. Now his eyes had adjusted better to the dark, Kurt heard some rustling and saw Blaine had sat up in bed, demanding an explanation. "What happened to sticking together?"

"Fuck sticking together," Joseph snapped. Something had triggered inside of him and he now seemed genuinely angry. "I'm looking out for myself. It's the only way I'm gonna survive this place."

"By dragging us down?" Kurt cried, the heat of the moment making him forget that it was bedtime. "You set us up, you bastard. You deliberately set us up to take a fall, and for what? A night of peace? A night of not getting hit and beaten and punished because they were doing it to us instead? It only means they're going to do it to you tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. You're never going to escape this."

"I may not be able to escape but if setting you up means taking the heat off of me, then you better make damn well sure that that's what I'm gonna do," Joseph replied.

"You're sick," Blaine spat.

"Aw, did I hit a nerve?" Joseph asked in mock concern. Kurt pushed himself from the sitting position on his bed and strode over to where Joseph was lying down. Blaine immediately sprung out of bed too; going over to where Kurt was standing, placing an arm on his in a placatory way, so as not to let the situation escalate out of hand.

"You are sick," Kurt spat. "It's bad enough that the teachers and the mentors put us down, but the one thing we can't do is turn on each other." Joseph just simply smiled up at him infuriatingly.

"Guys..." William's voice was soft in comparison to the others, but Kurt heard the warning, reprimanding tone in that one word. It was too little, too late, because just then, the dormitory door was flung open and revealed the none-too-impressed figure of Banks, the Gym teacher. Banks caught sight of the hold Blaine had on Kurt's arm, causing Blaine to immediately release Kurt's arm as though it had caught on fire.

Both boys took a step back away from Joseph, who, in comparison, looked relatively cool and collected as he laid in bed, as though he knew he wasn't going to be on the receiving end of Banks' wrath. Banks was a horrifying lump of a man - his muscles had muscles and he was big and large and his presence made itself known as soon as he stepped into a room. Kurt physically felt the colour drain from his face as Banks flicked the light switch and stared at Kurt and Blaine in the utmost disgust.

Nothing was said for a while. Not until Banks' barked: "CREWE!"

William sat up in bed slowly. "Sir?"

"What's going on in here, Crewe?"

William hesitated, only for a split second. "Sir, Hummel came back from the principals office and started arguing with Maloney."

Kurt grit his teeth in suppressed anger at the twisted retelling of the events that had taken place earlier.

"And what was the argument about, Crewe?" Banks enquired. His tone was laced with slight amusement, as though he found the whole affair quite funny.

"Sir, Hummel got sent to the principals office by Karofsky about an hour ago and he thinks it was down to Maloney," William replied. "Hummel came back and started shouting at Joseph and then Anderson joined in too and they ganged up on him."

Kurt was livid. Not only did he want to hurt Joseph, he now wanted to hurt William just as bad. He didn't think getting summoned to the principals office was down to Joseph - he knew it was down to Joseph! Had William been asleep during the attempted breakout? Was he blind, stupid, or just plain scared of Joseph that he felt the need to lie? Whatever the reason, it wasn't good enough. Kurt wanted to cause serious injury to that boy. The fleeting thought that Dalton was indeed changing him crossed his mind, for he had never harboured such venomous thoughts to anybody - even the bullies at his old school who had made his life hell. It simply wasn't in his nature, though seemingly, now it was.

Banks chuckled. "Well it seems that we have some scores to settle," he announced, deliberately loudly. "I've always said that the best way to settle these things is in the ring." Kurt shuddered involuntarily at hearing that word, even though he knew Banks was talking about a boxing ring and not the ring that the Dalton boys were put through to 'modify' their 'imbalances.'

"We will settle this tomorrow," Banks continued, in that same self-important tone. "I'd planned some dodgeball for Gym, but I think a fist fight would be more befitting, going by the little altercation that's been played out tonight." He seemed quite cheerful at this announcement, though when it was over, his bad mood returned and his features darkened. "Now get to bed. One more word out of anyone and I will put my boot so far up your ass you'll be tasting the shit on my treads."

He flicked off the light switch as Kurt and Blaine made their way back to their respective beds. It was astonishing that Banks hadn't inflicted some kind of punishment for catching them out of their beds after hours, but Kurt supposed that this fight that had been set up tomorrow was going to make up for that. The door was slammed shut and the heavy footfall of Banks grew quieter as he made his way down the corridor.

Once it was safe enough, Joseph's voice cut through the darkness once more. "I'm going to beat the shit out of you, Kurt. I'm going to fuck you up so bad, you'd think I was a mentor."

Kurt didn't respond, though it was not out of fear. He was taking in every word Joseph was saying to him, taking them in and absorbing them fully. There was a fire lit in his stomach and these words were only adding fuel to the burning flame.

Tomorrow, Kurt's fury would be unleashed and Joseph wouldn't have a clue what had hit him.

Ooh, cliffhanger!

I was going to extend this longer but I didn't want it to turn into the length of the previous chapter and have a long wait for it to be updated. What does everyone think so far? Joseph is truly a bastard, right!

I'm not best pleased with this installment, so it might take a little bit longer for the next one to come up, so I'm pleased with the outcome when I post it.

Please review, it keeps me writing, and I love hearing all your kind words and comments.

Until next time.

Johnny xo