castor442: the genre of this fic is very, very much hurt/comfort. I'm building up the hurt for a while, but rest assured, I plan to indulge in cuddles as much as the spankings. Just give Damon a little time to remember that a proper punishment is supposed to end with aftercare. I put in a bit of a sneak peek here just for you, though.

As for Elena - she'll be spanked in this fic. But they'll less severe and often, without nearly as many rules. His main motivation will be to keep her from getting herself killed as opposed to guiding her a la Stefan. And he'll have to work on become a man worthy of her trust before he gets anywhere with her.

Part of it is to add variety into the spanking scenes. In broad strokes, Stefan's the type to submit punishment while Elena will... tear up Damon's room and stab him, lol. The other part is that I apparently, I have, like, a plot and character arcs planned. Spankings are more satisfying to me in context of characters growing and changing and relationships deepening, I suppose.

By the time Stefan was three, he understood that when Damon rested his tummy over his lap, it was because his bottom was due to be warmed. Like any other toddler, he'd wiggle his little body and promise to be good forever in hopes to avoid the pain of a spanking. Damon would have to steel his heart to give Stefan what he needed. The only reason Damon was ever able to follow through swatting his baby brother to tears is because he knew the alternative was Giuseppe.

That was about the only way in which Stefan was typical.

When Damon set his palm on his plump cheeks, Stefan would settle down and become quiet. He'd grab handfuls of Damon's trousers with his tiny fists as he cried through the three to ten swats that he needed to learn his lesson. His sweet little brother would do his best to stay still as the sting mounted. Damon would remember being on Mother's knee, getting the same swats at the same age and how much he'd kick in a valiant attempt to avoid a spank as he begged for her to stop.

He had a recurring nightmare where, after Giuseppe burned out a cigar into his baby brother's arm, Stefan would grab second one and offer up his other arm.

Damon would hold him until long after he'd stopped sniffing and apologizing for his naughtiness. The only thing that could get him let go of his brother would be small yawns and how Stefan's head fell deeply into the crook of his neck, letting Damon know he was ready for his post-spanking nap. After he helped Stefan find a comfortable place on his front, he'd tucked Stefan into his crib. Then he'd rub his back and bottom until his breathing was deep and even.

Three, thirteen, or three hundred - there were some things about Stefan that never changed. His struggling generally ceased after his punishment started, outside the end of their little dances when he wiggled around in a desperate attempt to avoid more of Damon's painful brand of correction. His cheeks were still plump with baby fat that profited immensely from being warmed over in response to undesirable behavior.

Warmth was the wrong adjective to use for this spanking. Burned with a blistering fire, ruthlessly licking an unwanted lesson into his vulnerable skin was more apt a description. Although Stefan's buttocks and legs were unblemished with only the faintest heat emitting from them, Damon knew that his little brother had received the whipping as intended. His little brother was becoming limper with each corrective blow. By now, his tears were softer than the quiet whistle of the loop's steady cadence.

Stefan was almost ready for the conclusion.

Damon continued to spank him with the loop. Each time the cord crashed against Stefan's soft skin, it left behind a bright red welt, in the shape of a circle or oval, depending on how the cord bit into the flesh. The mark lasted much longer than a red handprint or thin strip of a bruise. For nearly a minute, Damon could see that he wasn't wasting his time or effort. If he were fast enough, he could cover Stefan's backside with dozens of disciplinary indents, bright red against his snow-white skin.

So, he did. Over and over. Until Damon could go a full round, punishing up and down his thighs and cheeks, without Stefan feebly attempting to kick or squirm away from the loop so carefully punishing him, he was going to keep spanking Stefan with the cord. Thrice more, he whipped up and down Stefan's entire backside. After that, Stefan was completely still over Damon's knee.

They were ready to see if Stefan had actually learned anything of note.

"What will you do next time I call you over for a whipping?" Damon asked after the last welt faded from Stefan's fair skin.

Stefan didn't answer right away. Damon didn't take it personally. He knew Stefan probably hadn't processed that the cord was no longer hitting him just yet. Normally, he'd rub Stefan's back until he was ready to speak, but this time was different. Comfort would distract Stefan from Damon's goal. Besides, Damon's spare hand was busy keeping his brother's wrists pinned.

He was going to make sure Stefan didn't fight a coming punishment for a very long time.

He watched his little brother and waited.

"I come over, sir," Stefan said, voice slurred.

Damon flicked his wrist. Stefan made a quiet whimper. "Do you try and get away?" Stefan shook his head. Damon decided to accept that and flicked his wrist twice more. "Do you stall?" Another shake of his head and Damon connected the cord to his seat three more times. "Do you complain?"

"I need to mind and respect you," Stefan said.

After setting the cord down and releasing Stefan's wrists, Damon set his hand on the small of Stefan's back. "And what if you don't want to do what I tell you to do?"

"Sir," Stefan's arms slipped to his sides. He sounded very uncertain, "I get a spanking?"

Damon rubbed Stefan's back. "Only if you disobey. I don't require you to like everything I decide."

"Okay," Stefan said. He yawned and Damon tried not to think of Stefan being small.

For a while, Stefan was quiet. Damon dug his knuckles into Stefan's back in order to work out the tension. Despite being worn out and well punished, it seemed like he was carrying a lot of pain. Guilt, he supposed, Elena would say. Along with his own, he'd feel Damon's guilt, which Stefan carried as if were his.

Three days of intense punishment would get Damon a more obedient and respectful Stefan, but it'd take more than a few sessions on Damon's lap, no matter how painful, for Stefan stop blaming himself for every bad thing that happened. These days, Stefan didn't even need to be remotely connected to someone else's pain to blame himself.

Everything's more intense as a vampire, Katherine had told them while they rolled between her bed sheets. Damon had longed to experience the promise held in her voice. Damon had been very stupid.

"Can I rub?" Stefan soft voice drew Damon out of his thoughts. "It hurts so much, Damon."

"It's teaching you," Damon said. Stefan's unhappy moan nearly made Damon change his mind. He settled on kneading out more tension on Stefan's back. "Now put your brooding talent to work and think about why you're on my knee with a sore ass."

"Yes, sir," Stefan said.

Somehow, without him even noticing, Damon's hand had moved to Stefan's head. He threaded his fingers through Stefan's silky hair. He almost felt human again. He reminded himself that if he went easy on Stefan now, the last three days would have been for nothing. "It'll be over in less than half an hour, little brother."

"I'll learn," the promise in Stefan's voice was so familiar Damon's dead heart nearly ached.

Stefan was quiet for the duration of his punishment. Damon watched him, nearly wishing he'd fall asleep. But he knew his little brother was doing what he was told and brooding over the mistakes that lead him on Damon's knee.

Damon had intended to bring up Elena again and how she almost certainly would need to be spanked again. Stefan might be agreeable enough to accept she needed discipline as much as any other teenager with his bare ass well presented for another conversation with Damon's new favorite spanking tool, but it certainly wouldn't be a lesson that stuck for very long. And Damon hadn't been fooled by the confused yes, sir Stefan had given him. Next time Damon was forced to swat her, Stefan would play the white night, despite how he'd end up with a smacked bottom to match hers.

There were making too much progress at the moment to risk bringing up something touchy.

Reminding Stefan that Damon was the big brother he needed to obey was the easy part, after all. Damon protecting and caring for Stefan was as much a part of them as anything else in their personalities. That, too, had been heightened by vampirism. It's what Stefan had wanted for nearly a hundred and fifty years, if not, perhaps, along with the consequences that came with being Damon Salvatore's baby brother again.

When the complete hour had passed, Damon guided Stefan back to his feet. Stefan folded his arms behind his back and bowed his head. When they were human, Damon had never required that show of submission after completion of a punishment. Damon was more interested in comforting and forgiving his brother over making sure Stefan knew who the boss was. The spanking has already taken care of that and Stefan had always needed to be held after being disciplined.

He watched his brother stand quietly. His shoulders were slumped, but his legs were parted. If he knew his brother, and he did, behind his back, his hands were locked together. Ready to be struck with no way to defend himself. Open legs would help him keep his balance if he needed to be hit more than once by a hand too impatient to wait for him to get back up. Giuseppe's fingerprints were all over the stance. Both of his sons knew how to stand before their father. Damon had modified it to protect Stefan's face just in case Damon wasn't able to protect him from Father's wrath. Giuseppe accepted the bowed head as an extra bout of submissiveness from his favored son.

As a human, he'd been glad Giuseppe never found out the truth. As a vampire, Damon relished in the subterfuge. Human Damon hadn't enjoyed putting Stefan in that stance. But it put him in the right mind set and made him more likely to learn whatever Damon needed to teach him to keep him safe. Vampire Damon saw his brother unguarded and wanted more.

Between Stefan's parted legs, his softened organ rested. At thirteen, his little brother started to want more privacy. He'd hide his sex behind his hands when Damon bared him for a spanking. The funny thing was, he only did it about half the time. It was as if it was something Stefan had to remind himself to do as opposed to a natural inclination on his part. Damon hadn't wanted to examine it then and felt no desire to do it now. Stefan would never become too big for a bare bottomed spanking and he'd never had anything that Damon hadn't already seen a thousand times before.

As a vampire, Damon had changed much more than Stefan. He enjoyed Stefan's stance, the vulnerability it represented. Willing vulnerability. Stefan had accepted Damon was in charge. Now he was waiting for Damon's permission. He'd been punished severely for denying Damon's lead. The lines of submission coloring his stance made it clear how effectively Damon was stomping out his defenses, his defiance.

Damon stood up. He set his finger under Stefan's chin and tilted his head up. His eyes looked very large and round. They were greener than usual. They were filled with an innocence he hadn't seen in over a hundred years. And there was something else in them that he hadn't seen in almost as long.

Complete and total trust.

How do you expect to build trust between us then?

Stefan confided in him, more than once, that he thought he got the better end of the deal of their brotherhood. Because he was an idiot who didn't know any better. Damon would have gladly let Father light him on fire every day to keep Stefan safe. To keep Stefan's little hands grabbing his. To keep Stefan following him around. To keep Stefan looking at him. To keep Stefan. Before Katherine, the only love Damon had ever thought he'd ever need was the one his brother effortlessly gave to him every day.

Father broke his ability to trust but Stefan healed him every time he had one arm behind him, rubbing at the soreness Damon had given him, and the other around his brother, asking for forgiveness without a hint of resentment for the part Damon played in making him cry.

That, he realized, with a sickening clarity, was one thing about Damon that had not changed since his transition. He wanted Stefan's trust. He wanted to sink into it and swim in it. Feed on it like he was the one who was the ripper. He wanted Stefan to look at him for answers and protection and comfort. And he wanted it for all of eternity.

Damon knew he'd betrayed and hurt Stefan too much to ever deserve even a sliver of any type of trust, much less the absolute kind he was craving more than he'd ever craved anything, save Katherine's to return his love. If he were worthy of the look in Stefan's wide and innocent gaze, he would step back and rethink what he was doing.

"I'm really proud of you," Damon said as he wrapped an arm around Stefan with the intent of rubbing his back again. Instead, he set the flat of his palm on the small of his back and pulled him closer.

Stefan lowered his eyes. "I keep being bad." He shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I'm sorry I make you spank me."

Damon had seen Stefan like this, a few times. But only with Lexi. He was glad he'd killed her. He wished she were alive so he could kill her again. No one should see Stefan like this outside of Damon. "You've behavior has been improving leaps and bounds in just a few weeks. Your big brother is just too mean to let you adjust slowly."

Stefan's looked up at him again. His eyes were confused. But they were filled with so much trust. Damon drank it in. He set his other hand on the back of Stefan's neck and pressed their foreheads together. "You're not mean," Stefan's earnestness was almost as addictive as his trust, "you're helping me be good."

"No," Damon said. He forced himself to pull away from Stefan and his innocent acceptance. "I'm a mean big brother about to make you sit at your desk to do your homework." He helped Stefan get dressed. As he pulled up the zipper to his fly, he made his voice hard, "I mean it, Stefan. Don't you dare put any pillows on that hard desk of yours. And if I catch you on your soft bed, you'll get another spanking." He smacked the seat of Stefan's jeans as a warning.

"You won't need to," Stefan promised with teary eyes.

A little past nine, Damon brought Stefan a late dinner. True to his word, Stefan was sitting at his desk. Well, squirming. "Got some delicious bunny blood for you."

"Thank you," Stefan said without a bit of thankfulness in his voice.

Damon watched him drink with narrowed eyes. "What's the last thing you remember about our latest special discussion?"

Stefan moved around in his seat. Damon watched with faint amusement as his little brother tried to find a comfortable spot to rest his aching bottom on. The sting of the loop may have disappeared, but the ruler and strap's marks were still correcting his baby brother. For that matter, the heat from Damon's hand would also prevent comfortable sitting for a few more days. "You were hitting me, and I was saying, 'yes, sir'."

He didn't remember. Maybe Damon should have kept Lexi alive long enough to get to explain what happened to Stefan after a particularly through spanking. After making a mental note to paw through his older journals for potential answer, Damon squeezed Stefan's shoulder. "I'll bring you some human blood at ten. Then you'll go to bed."

Stefan tilted his head up. His eyes were twinkling with amusement. "Is that my new bedtime?"

"No," Damon said. "I think Elena actually would help Bonnie kill me if I took away her midnight snack and I happen to like my unlife." Stefan's lips were twitching into a smile. Damon wagged his finger. "Don't think I won't spank you for attempted fratricide."

"I'm just being proactive about all the new rules I need to remember," Stefan said, "sir."

"I'm starting to think you like being spanked," Damon said.

Stefan tensed. It was slight but tense up he did. Damon grinned as the sass in Stefan's voice went down a few notches. "I'm just doing my job by being a pain in your ass at the appropriate time."

"You have forty-five minutes to work on the extra credit your puppy dog eyes got from your teachers before obeying me," Damon said. He walked towards the doorway. Then he paused and turned around. "The offer to kill your art teacher is still open. Maybe the replacement will be open to helping you get the A you need to save your butt from our ruler."

"Thanks," Stefan said. He tapped his pen against his desk. He must be craving the drop of human blood Damon promised him even more than usual. "I think. But this is my mess to fix." He stared at the ruler. "Or fail."

Damon tsked as he walked down the hallway. "The new age hippies have it all wrong. Groundings just don't teach moody teenagers' responsibility like a good spanking does."

When Damon returned to Stefan room with his daily portion of human blood, his little brother was already dressed bed in a loose pair of sweatpants.

At Damon's raised brow, Stefan rose up his hands in surrender. "I waited until it was ten on the dot before getting up." Damon's face remained impassive. Stefan licked his lips, and his voice took on a pleading tone, "I've been sitting on that chair over five hours, Damon."

Damon said nothing as he walked over to the bed.

"Am I in trouble?" Stefan asked.

Damon's answer was to hand him the glass with the teaspoon of human blood in it. Stefan's eyes were glued to Damon's as drained the blood and gave the cup back. Usually, he would try and lick up the blood sticking to the side of the cup before surrendering the glass. Damon permitted him a teaspoon of blood a day, but Stefan never actually got the entire portion. Most of the blood got lost in the multiple transitions from the blood bag to Stefan's mouth. Damon thought it was a good lesson in control.

"Damon," Stefan looked like he had about ten dozen excuses ready.

But he fell silent when Damon held up his hand. After setting the glass on Stefan's desk, Damon reached down to unbuckle his belt. Stefan's gaze shot from Damon's face to the strip of leather. He took his time sliding the belt from his loops and watched with no expression as his brother grabbed a handful of the bedding and squeezed. Damon folded his tool in half and closed the distance between the two of them.

"I'm sorry," Stefan said. He swallowed. "I'll learn this time, brother."

"You'd better," Damon said. He prevented Stefan from getting off the bed with a steady hand on his shoulder. "Are you ready?"

Miserably, Stefan nodded.

Damon took unparalleled joy in tapping Stefan's nose with folded belt before winding it back around his waist.

After a moment, Stefan's confused stare turned into a glare that reminded Damon of Bambi. He made a note to stock up on animal blood. "You did that on purpose!"

"It's good to keep you on your toes," Damon said as he pushed Stefan to lie on his front, "it'll remind you to behave."

"Sitting down reminds me to behave," Stefan grumbled. Damon covered him with a soft blanket and kissed the top of his head. "Wait, why are you tucking me in?"

"To confuse and frighten you," Damon said. He blurred over to the door and turned off the light. "Sweet dreams, baby bro."

"It's working!"

Damon laughed.