Even after Damon returned Lexi's hairbrush back into his night stand, Stefan remained exactly how Damon had lain him down. Save some sobs, he had remained completely quiet. Even his sniffling was soft. His hands were still folded in front of him, even though Damon knew how much Stefan wanted to rub his freshly tanned skin. He was naked and vulnerable, so completely submissive.
His mind was completely open.
Damon set his hand on Stefan's head and closed his eyes. It was terrifyingly easy to get what he wanted. He wanted to see the results of his hard work. Getting into Stefan's head was one thing, but drawing out what was on his mind and painting a picture of it on his body was another. Damon was even more convinced that his decision to keep Stefan out of battle was the right one.
The only danger Stefan would ever be in again was when he was tail up for Damon to punish.
From the top of his buttocks down to the back of his knees, Stefan skin was a mess. From when Damon had strapped him, Stefan had red welts from the top of his cheeks down to the middle of thighs. Stefan had clean, rectangular bruises lined from top to bottom from the ruler's lesson. There was a lot of overlapping ruler-shaped bruises since Damon made up for the fact that he could only hit him so hard without breaking the ruler by spanking him more. He had round splotches everywhere, some fading into bruises while other settled into white blisters. What little of his spankable skin wasn't marked was crimson.
The crease where Stefan's cheeks and thighs met was exceptionally well-punished. There was no snow white skin there. Just angry red cuts from the strap, yellow and brown bruises from the ruler, and white blisters from the Lexi's hairbrush. The injuries were lain on top of each other, each spanking adding new colors along with fresh pain. Damon always made sure his sit spots got the most and the hardest spanks and that decision was literally seared into his little brother.
It really was no wonder that Stefan's howls had been so loud and pained. He'd begged for an early end to his punishment, something he never did. He would plead, sometimes, but not for something as specific as stop, please. Even as a human, before his masochistic tendencies became a key feature of his personality, he'd just occasionally beg for Damon not to spank quite so hard. He would never have the hubris ask Damon to cease correcting him. Stefan knew good and well that the length of the spanking was Damon's decision. And, until Katherine, Damon almost always granted that heart-wrenching request and punished more gently.
Damon was no longer human.
He'd only intended to give Stefan a few dozen smacks while they went over the rules. But then Stefan had taken the brush right out of Damon's hand. He'd never felt rage so cold and Damon let it out by paddling his baby brother. Not only had he put a lot of power into his blows, he drawn out the punishment for over a quarter of an hour. While he punished, he hadn't regretted a single blow. He had been determined to put Stefan in his place. And Stefan was in his place - on his big brother's knee and waiting for further instruction.
He had some regrets now.
Damon gently set his hand on one of Stefan's cheeks. The skin was very warm. Stefan choked out another sob. "Please," his baby brother begged, clenching his butt, "no more spanks. I'll never be bad again!"
The guilt Damon worked so hard to bury was quickly rushing to the surface. Stefan punished skin was too brutalized to be comforted. He thought he was being spanked again.
As Damon removed his hand, Stefan's pleas became worse, "I'm getting another spanking, right?" Rule nine, Damon says Stefan gets a spanking and Stefan gets a spanking. A hard one, as Stefan had noted. "Can I at least rest? Just five minutes, please?"
"I'm not spanking you right now," Damon said. Against his thigh, Stefan's penis rested. It had become completely soft and innocent during his bare bottom punishment. The teenage hormones running through his system were inclined to make it twitch at everything, including a very undesirable spanking from his mean big brother. Damon wondered how deep the innocence went. "Do you think you deserve one?"
"Yes," Stefan's voice was steady and sure. It was horrifying. "I just broke rule nine!"
"No you didn't," Damon said, "I'm going to make it hurt less, okay? But I'll need to touch you. It'll only sting for a minute, okay?"
Stefan turned his head around and looked at Damon with wet green eyes. They were wide and filled with trust and love. "Thank you!" He was smiling and it was so sweet, "you're the best big brother ever."
Damon set his hand right in the center of Stefan's buttocks. Stefan buried his face in his arms and wept. One by one, the welts from the strap vanished from his cheeks. Damon had no plans of removing them from Stefan's thighs. Those would continue to remind Stefan to stay out of danger lest want another hot date with the strap hanging in his closet.
Stefan's body was carrying more tension than Damon thought possible. Each time Damon removed lash, he sunk deeper into Damon's lap. Damon paid careful attention to Stefan's shoulders and back, which were permanently tense and broody. That pain was coiled tight inside of him. Even as Stefan soaked in comfort, those muscles remained tight.
"Does that feel any better?"
His baby brother was looking back up at him, so trusting and sweet. He nodded. Damon had not seen him look so happy in decades. Over a century, really. Not since before Damon first went to war. Since before Stefan realized his big brother was as mortal as the next person. He'd sent Damon letter after letter, begging him to be careful. And Damon had been. For Stefan.
The desire to wrap Stefan up in a hug and stroke his hair was as strong as the desire to beat him into complete submission had been. Damon - Damon was better at giving into violence than showing how deep his love still ran.
Damon made his face very stern. He gently smacked a welt on Stefan's thigh. It also meant he hit some bruises, both freshly and settled. The new sting and the deep burn were re-litigated as Damon made his point. It was very difficult not to pull his little brother into his arms at heart-wrenching howl to smack had produced. "I'm making rule eleven, Stefan. If I catch you even thinking aboutl doing something dangerous, I'm going skin you alive with the strap in your closet. I know you've been looking at it every day when you get dressed and I want you to keep doing that. Do you understand me?"
Stefan nodded. There were fresh tears pouring down his face. Damon was mildly surprised, he hadn't expected Stefan had any tears left. He wondered if there was a limit to how many tears a vampire could produce.
The next thing Damon did was among the most difficult he'd ever had to do. He hit Stefan's left cheek. He then his right cheek. Hard. He made his palm stiff so it'd feel like a paddle. Stefan screamed. He was still looking up at his brother and Damon had to watch the pain cloud his eyes. Damon kept his face blank and waited until his brother quieted again. "This is important. Verbal answer, Stefan. Do you understand rule eleven?"
How were Stefan's eyes even more loving and trusting after Damon hurt him even more? His was tired to the bones and it had to hurt to speak. But Stefan knew who was the boss. He knew how to respect Damon. His voice was clear. "Yes, sir."
Then he promptly burst into hysterical tears, burying his face deeply in his arms. Damon rubbed his back. "It's okay, little brother."
Stefan shook his head. "I keep being bad!"
"No," Damon snapped. Stefan turned back to look at him, confused. "I," Damon made sure to pronounce every word with as much confidence and force as he could, "am a very mean big brother, remember?" He gentled his tone, rubbed Stefan's back some more, "You've been almost perfect."
"I tooked your brush," Stefan said.
"Are you going to do that again?" Damon asked.
Stefan shook his entire body as he said, "No, sir!"
"See," Damon said. Absurdly, he wanted to kiss the top of Stefan's head. "You learned your lesson. Only good boys learn their lessons."
Damon thought Stefan might argue. But apparently, like this, Stefan trusted Damon more than he hated himself. "I did," he sounded like he was three and proud of himself for learning to write his name, "I got gooder."
"You did," Damon said. He was proud of Stefan and didn't bother to hide it.
He gently cupped Stefan's left cheek and winced as Stefan whimpered. In one fell swoop, Damon healed all the bruises from the ruler. Mrs. Gardner was impressed by his attitude adjustment and Stefan had been dutifully doing his extra credit. He was even going to have to redo his chemistry homework. And Damon knew he'd probably earn the ruler by the time his report card was due. There was no way he'd get A in English or Drawing. He'd been punished enough for misbehaving at school.
Dick Lockwood was on Damon's hit list. And now Mr. Baker was, too. But he'd wait until after the school replaced the English teacher Damon had snacked on. The PTA board was very upset they still hadn't been able to replace her with a permanent teacher. Damon feared he was becoming more responsible. He was even thinking of compelling a replacement art teacher right after he was done with Baker. That asshole had written a long note about how Stefan needed another thrashing for being a brat. No one told Damon how to handle Stefan.
It's why he'd murdered Lexi, after all.
Besides, he knew Stefan had been perfectly polite when asking for extra credit. It'd been funny when Stefan had threatened to be rude to adults. Stefan had not sassed one adult save Damon since he'd dragged Stefan out of bed and spanked him weeks ago. His natural state was to respect his elders, he'd just needed a reminder that despite being over a hundred years old, the world around him only saw a child. If Damon grew a heart and stopped taking his brother in hand, he knew that lesson would stick deep into Stefan's brain and behavior, at least for a few decades.
Damon looked over the blisters and bruises blanketing his baby brother's Special Spanking Spots. Lexi's hairbrush was lethal in Damon's hand. He probably should have been more delicate with Stefan's grief. Stefan grabbed the brush to protect Lexi's memory, not to defy his older brother. But Damon found it difficult to care about the distinction. Paddling him with the brush for such defiance had been euphoric, even if guilt creeping up when he saw the damage was difficult to suppress.
"You're keeping the hand spanking," Damon said, mostly to himself. It was hard to believe his little brother could be so thoughtless and hurtful. He'd almost kept Stefan in the corner for an extra hour, but he feared Stefan might actually end up in a depressive spiral if he obsessed about that mistake for too long.
There was an upside. Pearl had been impressed by how Damon took care of Stefan. She had leverage on Katherine and he was keen to learn about it. He was still pissed that her tomb vampires had tortured Stefan, but to her credit, she had helped him murder them. She'd even gave Damon a few tips on how best to torture the one who was most responsible for it. He didn't know his name, but Damon knew his face. How it had looked while screamed in pain was a very dear memory. Too bad his face was so relieved when Damon finally killed him. You win some, you lose some.
Thinking about the tomb vampires made Damon's palm itch. Elena had risked her life. She almost died and didn't even seem to realize it. If she'd just let Damon handle it, Stefan wouldn't have needed to drink her blood to survive. Then again, Damon might not have put his plan to take Stefan in hand into action just yet if he hadn't seen how badly and quickly Stefan spiraled out of control after just one taste of human blood.
He'd meant to take charge right after killing Lexi, but his stupid guilt got in the way. And then the revelation that Katherine wasn't waiting for him made it hard to care about anyone but himself.
Life was complicated. But what wasn't complicated is how much Elena needed a trip over Damon's knee. He just needed to figure out how to do it in a way she would accept and learn from. The few licks he'd given her hadn't really taught her anything. Worse, she had been ignoring him since. She'd even blocked his number, the brat. And while he was sure he could convince Stefan that needed a soundly smacked bottom, it was going to be harder to convince him that Damon should be the one to do the smacking.
"Damon?" Stefan's voice cut through Damon's thoughts.
He'd... he'd been brooding.
"Stefan," Damon said. He traced a peculiarly ugly blister on the top of Stefan's right thigh. It was high up, right near the extra sensitive crease that was Damon's favorite place to spank. It was were most of the learning happened. Stefan whimpering was extremely distressed. "It really hurts, doesn't it?"
Stefan was, again, burying his face into his arms to hide his tears. He nodded.
"What did it teach you?" Damon asked. He pressed his hand down, covering the white blister with the palm of his hand.
It took several minutes for Stefan to answer. He was too busy sobbing out his pain. But his baby brother pulled himself together and managed to say, "You're in charge."
"Good boy," Damon said as he made the blister vanish. There were several overlapping bruises that remained, but when he rubbed, Stefan let out a grateful sigh. Those would stay. Because. Damon cupped the top of his left cheek. The bruise there was deeply embedded in Stefan's skin. Stefan yelped and cried and kicked his legs wildly. Damon kept his hand where it was and waited until Stefan calmed down before speaking again. "What happens to brats in my household?"
"They get spanks," Stefan said miserably.
"They do," Damon confirmed, "what did I do when you acted like a brat today?"
"You gave me a spanking," Stefan said, "a hard one."
Damon healed the bruise on his cheek and moved down to a white blister on the middle of his right thigh. It was the biggest one, as big as Lexi's brush. He'd smacked that spot very soundly. And he'd made sure to smack it several more times as the spanking continued. Stefan's shoulders were shaking. He was too tired to scream and squirm, but the pain was so bad he still cried his eyes out.
"You didn't give me the brush back on your own did you?" Damon asked. Stefan shook his head. "I told you that you'd be a sorry young man, didn't I?" Stefan nodded. "Are you sorry?" Another nod. "Will I ever have to ask you twice to submit to a spanking?"
Stefan shame gave him energy. He squirmed. His voice was so tiny. "No, sir."
One by one, Damon removed all the blisters adorning Stefan's thighs and cheeks. There were quite a few. He'd planned to keep a few around to help Stefan retain the lesson, but each time he eased his brother's pain, tension melted out of Stefan's back or shoulders. Damon kept healing. There was euphoria in this, too.
"How does that feel?" Damon asked.
"Good," Stefan said. He sighed happily as Damon rubbed his backside. He was still heavily bruised and the skin was still smoking from the fire Damon had delivered. He was still a sore little boy suffering a soundly smacked bottom, but the skin was no longer so tenderized that he couldn't receive comfort. "Thank you, brother. Can I have my nap now?"
His little brother had twisted around again and was giving him such a hopeful look. He was so clearly exhausted. What got Damon the most was that he was asking permission. He was handing Damon all the power and asking for nothing in return.
Damon was perfectly happy taking it. "Do you remember what happens before you get to sleep?"
Impossibly, Stefan's eyes watered. He was profoundly sorrowful. He was, at heart, a very sweet and good boy. "Reminder spanks."
"That's right," Damon said as he gently removed Stefan from his lap. The pang of loss was unexpected. He shoved it down. He grabbed Stefan by the chin and made his voice hard. "I won't do it every time, but when I do, it's going to suck for you. You're going to get on your hands and knees and lift your bottom up as high as you can. Then I'm going to spank you."
"Yes, sir," Stefan said.
Damon took a step back and snapped his fingers. Stefan immediately understood the command. He got on his hands and knees and lifted his bottom. Damon set one hand on his back and used the other to remind Stefan to behave. The skin was very warm, but Damon wanted it extremely hot. He smacked Stefan's bottom, twisting his wrist each time to inject extra sting. He ignored Stefan's heartbreaking cries of pain as he lit a fresh fire with smack after smack. He was determined to strike where he'd designated as punishable until the skin sizzled. Stefan's mind and body were still perfectly open and Damon got to enjoy how Stefan's bottom got hotter and hotter under his hand. It was so much better seeing and feeling the results. He spanked longer than he intended. Sometimes he let his palm do most of the work by catching more sore skin. Sometimes he used his fingers like a strap, cutting shallow welts into his baby soft skin. Either way, the heat rose and the pain deepened. The evidence he wasn't wasting his time was a sirens' call. He answered their song by punishing his baby brother. The sound of a strong hand spanking soft flesh was beautiful music.
When he was done, he smiled to himself. His baby brother was crying brokenly, but he stayed on his hands and knees with his bottom high in the air. Damon hadn't even needed to tell Stefan he had to stay in position until Damon said otherwise. The power he had was thrilling, but that was nothing compared to knowing his baby brother gave it to him without sparing a thought to how it might not be a good idea.
Damon didn't know much about this version of Stefan. But this sweet and innocent little boy was part of Stefan. And this part of Stefan loved and trusted Damon so completely. Damon didn't deserve it, but he was going to take it anyway. Stefan was his. That had always been true, it would always be true.
He gave in. He pressed a kiss on the top of Stefan's head. He rubbed Stefan's sore bottom for a few minutes. "Are you ready for your nap?"
"Yes, please," Stefan said. He asked, as if expecting a no, "Can I please sleep on my tummy?"
"Of course you can," Damon said. He helped Stefan lay on his front, absently tucking his soft penis comfortably between his slightly spread legs before covering him with the comforter. Stefan had always needed a blanket to fall asleep. Damon brushed some dirty blond hair behind Stefan's ears and watched him fall asleep.
After Stefan's breathing became even, Damon sat down next to him. He pulled Stefan's head into his lap and tenderly ran his fingers through Stefan's hair. He really did use too much gel.
Stefan was well-spanked child with dried tears on his face, but he was smiling as he slept.