Candy is Yummy :)
So, astrangerfate and I were naughty this week and decided to write the sequel to our first Halloween fic, Don't Take Candy From Strangers, instead of doing homework :) Warning to all you readers, this fic does contain spanking of minor children, but there are sufficient cuddles afterward :) Hope you all enjoy!
PS-I probably won't get much writing done this next week because I am in South Pacific here at college and Sunday marks the beginning of Hell Week :( So I will be in debt to anyone who writes fics during this next week because I will need something to get me through :) And next week is my fall break, so I'm going to be writing a certain report card fic that a certain someone (Cam) has been begging me for months to write. Wish me luck!
Disclaimer: We do not own any of the Winchesters, because if we did John would be alive and spanking Sam and Dean at least once a week :)
No Candy Before Bed
John Winchester rubbed his hand wearily over his eyes. He was attempting to research a possible poltergeist situation about fifty miles away. Ordinarily, this would have been a simple task to accomplish… just look through the research and determine whether the reports were credible by discounting other possible solutions. However, his boys weren’t usually quite so wound up at 8:00 at night. Ever since they had finished dinner, Sam and Dean had been running through the apartment, playing tag and becoming increasingly loud.
“Dean! Sam!” he called sternly as the boys raced past the door to the back bedroom. He heard the telltale sounds of feet skidding to a halt and braced himself for the sound of a collision. Fortunately, none came, and the boys appeared in the doorway seconds later, out of breath from running and laughing.
“Yeah, Dad?” Dean asked politely before reaching out a finger to poke his little brother in the ribs. Sam squealed loudly as he dodged the latest onslaught of tickling.
“Boys!” John barked loudly, nipping it in the bud.
“Yes, sir?” they asked together. Two sets of wide green eyes stared up at him in confusion.
“I’m doing research. You need to keep it down. And you shouldn’t be running in the apartment anyway. I need you to knock it off and play quietly or go to bed.”
“Yes, sir.” Dean stared at the ground, uncomfortable at John’s reprimand, but Sam was already tugging at Dean’s arm, and he followed his brother back into the hall.
John shook his head at the way they had just blown off his warning. I guess I’m losing my touch, he thought ruefully, looking back down at the collection of statistics littering his desk. Within two minutes the noises had started up again, louder than before. He frowned, wondering what had gotten into them.
“Oww, Dean, let go!” Crash!
John pushed himself abruptly back from his desk and rose to his feet. “Boys!” he yelled, noticing that the noises instantly stopped. “Get in here! Now!” He waited as Dean and Sam bounced into the room, apparently unfazed by his threatening tone.
“Didn’t I tell you two to be careful when you’re playing indoors ?” John questioned sternly.
“Yes, sir!” Sam giggled, hopping from one foot to the other. John rolled his eyes, exasperated, and placed his hands on the eight-year-olds’ shoulders, trying to hold him still.
“And didn’t I tell you to keep it down while I researched?” he questioned.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, still shuffling around, but no longer smiling as he took in his father’s irritated expression.
“That’s what I thought,” John said, before pulling the chair out from behind his desk and tugging Sam toward him.
Sam may have been completely oblivious to John’s earlier scolding, but he knew instantly what his father was planning to do. “No, Dad!” he protested, digging his heels into the ground. But he was no match for his father’s strong grip, and he found himself staring at the floor with his little bottom in the air, providing a perfect target for John’s hard hand.
John landed the first smack right in the center of Sam’s behind, causing the little boy to howl and squirm. “Hold still, Samuel,” he said calmly, swatting him several more times. After 16 spanks, John lifted his crying son to his feet and gave him a brief hug before gently pushing him to stand beside his brother.
“Dean,” he said simply, holding out a hand to his eldest son. Dean didn’t hesitate before positioning himself at his father’s side and allowing him to drape him over his lap. He bore his own two dozen swats stoically, whimpering softly when the spanks hit his tender thighs. When it was over, John lifted him to his feet and gave him his own brief hug.
“Come here, Sammy,” he said gently, reaching out to guide the still whimpering child to stand directly in front of him. Sam reluctantly came forward and John lifted him to sit on his lap, pulling Dean in close with his other arm.
“Now,” he said firmly, “I don’t know what has gotten into you two, but you know better than to run around the apartment and cause so many distractions while I’m working. Since you can’t seem to behave yourselves, you’re getting an early bedtime tonight.”
Sam’s lower lip began to protrude as John announced his decision. “Samuel, do you want to go over my knee again, young man?” he asked sternly. Sam quickly shook his head no, but kept the pitiful look on his face.
John sighed and cuddled Sam a little closer. “Alright then. I want both of you to go upstairs and get ready for bed. I will be up in twenty minutes to tuck you in and if you’re not in bed with your teeth brushed, faces washed, and pajamas on, you’re going to be sleeping on your stomachs tonight, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” they chorused.
“Good,” John replied. “Now scoot,” he added, sending them both scurrying out the door with a couple of light swats.
Twenty minutes later exactly, John entered the boys’ bedroom to find both of them obediently curled up on their stomachs. He smiled to himself. They really are good boys he thought. He walked over to Dean first and sat on the edge of his bed. His “grownup” twelve-year-old usually protested the tuck-in ritual, unless he had just been spanked. Although he didn’t request it, John knew that Dean needed the extra reassurance of being tucked in after he got his bottom warmed. He pulled the covers up around the boy’s thin shoulders, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
“Goodnight, Dean,” he said softly, running his hand through his son’s messy hair before walking over to Sam’s bed. His eight-year-old, although already showing a strong stubborn streak, still loved to be cuddled, read to and tucked in at night. John lifted the covers up to his chin, rubbing a hand over the boy’s back to get him to snuggle down.
“Goodnight, Sammy,” he said, leaning over to give his youngest a kiss. “Goodnight, Daddy,” Sam replied, staring back at his father with large, red-rimmed eyes. John rubbed his back one more time before turning off the light and heading back to his study.
It was just after ten when John finally came to a stopping point on his research. The signs didn’t seem to point to a poltergeist after all, but John would make a quick trip out to the site tomorrow just to make sure.
He pulled out his map of the area again when an idea struck him. It really wasn’t like his boys to be so hyper... and they hadn’t really touched the dinner either. He strode to the kitchen, thinking ominously of the trouble the boys would be in if they had gotten into their candy.
Sure enough, the bags were missing. He let out a frustrated groan. Early bedtime be damned, he decided. This needed to be addressed now.
He was shocked when he opened the door to find the boys sitting on Dean’s bed, surrounded by candy wrappers and their mouths full of chocolate.
“Boys!” he barked, causing the two pajama clad figures in front of him to jump. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Sam looked at his brother frantically, not saying a word, but of course Dean had a smart-ass answer at the ready. “Well, we had to eat something,” he answered snarkily. “I mean seriously, Dad, have you ever tasted your own cooking?”
The sarcastic smirk adorning Dean’s face quickly faded as John approached him slowly and menacingly. The elder Winchester yanked him up by the arm and had him bent over the bed in a matter of seconds. “Do you think disobeying me is funny, Dean?” he growled, delivering six sharp swats to the pajama clad butt in front of him.
“Ow! No sir,” Dean declared, the hard slaps reigniting the sting of his earlier spanking.
“Good,” said John, adding another four swats for good measure before releasing Dean and planting him firmly on the bed, causing the boy to wince. “Now, let’s try this again. What exactly do the two of you think you’re doing eating all this candy this late at night?”
“We were tired of saving it,” Sam said quickly, before his dad decided to swat him too. “We wanted to eat more than three pieces a day, and dinner really didn’t taste all that good, and…” he trailed off as John glared at him.
“This wouldn’t be why you two were so hyperactive earlier, is it?” he questioned sternly. The twin guilty looks gave him his answer, and he rolled his eyes in desperation. “How much have you eaten?” he said with resignation.
“All of it, sir,” Dean answered quietly, avoiding his father’s eyes. John sighed and kneeled to the floor in front of them.
“Boys, didn’t I tell you that you were not allowed to eat more than three pieces of candy a day because any more would make you hyper?” He waited for both of his sons to nod before continuing. “And didn’t I give you an early bedtime tonight?” They nodded again, Sam sniffling slightly. “So you’ve disobeyed not one, but two orders from me, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Dean managed, while Sam just nodded his small head one more time, a tear dripping onto his pajama pants. “But it was my fault, not Sam’s. It was my idea.”
“Maybe so, Dean, but Sam ate the candy too,” said John. “You know I don’t like this, boys, but I think you know what has to happen next.” He started to rise to his feet, but he immediately dropped back down when Sam burst into a fit of hysterical sobs.
“Sammy,” said John concernedly, reaching out to pick up his sobbing son. He was shocked when Sam flinched from his touch, pressing himself close to Dean, who looked even more confused than John. “Sammy, son, what’s wrong?”
It took a few minutes of Dean rubbing Sam’s back and whispering reassurances to his little brother before Sam could finally speak coherently. “I…don’t…want…the paddle….D…Daddy!” he wailed, burying his face into Dean’s arms. “I’m s…sorry…pl…please don’t paddle me!”
“Oh, baby boy,” John said tenderly, reaching out for his youngest and taking a seat next to Dean on the bed. Sam resisted, but John clung to him tightly. “Sammy, the paddle is only for when you or your brother do something extremely disobedient and dangerous. I’m not going to use it on you all the time.”
Sam lifted his tear streaked face up. “But I thought…”
John cut him off, guiding the damp face back to rest on his shoulder. “Sammy, you and Dean were naughty, but you weren’t that naughty. I’m not going to paddle you, I promise.”
“Okay,” Sam whispered, clinging to his father’s flannel shirt, allowing the fabric to soak up his remaining tears. John held onto him a few minutes longer, rubbing Dean’s shoulder with his free hand before lifting Sam off his lap to stand on the floor.
“Now,” he said more firmly. “Just because I’m not going to paddle you doesn’t mean that I’m not going to spank you. You know better than to disobey me, and I think you both need a reminder to follow the rules. Dean, you get in the corner. Sam can have his spanking first.”
Dean obediently rose to his feet and turned in the direction of the corner, but Sam reached out and grabbed his arm, his large green eyes still brimming with tears. “Dean, don’t leave me,” he whispered pitifully.
“Sammy, Dad sent me to the corner. I have to go,” Dean said helplessly, trying to free himself from his brother’s grip. Sam held on desperately, slipping to the floor as he begged, “Dean, no! Don’t leave me!”
Dean looked at his father, unsure of what to do, and John sized up the situation quickly. “Sam, let go of Dean,” he said with authority. “Dean, you come back here and sit next to me on the bed.”
Dean looked confused, but he hurried to obey his father. John lifted Sam over his lap, settling the little boy’s legs and torso on the soft mattress and laying his head down on Dean’s lap. “Sam, Dean’s gonna stay here with you while you get your spanking. But you need to behave yourself and not throw a tantrum. Otherwise he’s going in the corner, you understand?”
Sam nodded, sniffling and burying his face into Dean’s leg. Dean stroked his little brother’s hair, not wanting to watch him get spanked, but wanting to take care of him as he always did. John carefully pulled Sam’s flannel sleep pants down to his knees, gentling the shaking boy by patting his lower back softly. When Sam finally lay still, he raised his hand and began the spanking.
When John had drawn the conclusion that his boys had disobeyed two direct orders from him, his first instinct had been to spank them until they couldn’t sit down for a week. He hated to admit it now, but using the paddle had crossed his mind. He was much more of a pushover when it came to his kids than he would ever admit, though, and Sam’s despondent wails were causing him to go much easier on him than he normally would. Still, his hand smacked the tiny bottom again and again, turning it hot and red within a few minutes. Sam, already panic-stricken before the spanking began, wailed loudly with every swat, soaking his brother’s pants with his tears. John noticed that Dean was biting his lip and struggling to control his own breathing as his little brother’s distress began to take its toll. He hurriedly ended the spanking with four swats to the backs of Sam’s thighs and readjusted his pants before lifting his baby into his arms.
“Shh, Sammy, it’s over now, kiddo,” he soothed, rubbing his stinging hand through the boy’s sweaty curls. “You’re alright, baby, Daddy’s got you.” He rocked his son back and forth, feeling the sounds of Sam’s distraught wails tear at his heart.
Sam didn’t say anything for several minutes, just cried from the burn in his behind and the shame in his heart. Finally, he spoke, his voice muffled against John’s chest. “I’m s…sorry, Daddy.”
“I know you are, Sammy,” John said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his small head. “You’re forgiven now. Just don’t disobey me anymore, understand?” he added as a firm afterthought. He felt Sam nod against his chest, and he cuddled him for a few more minutes before lifting him in his arms and setting him on his own bed. “You stay here while I punish your brother,” he said gently, receiving a weak nod from his little boy. He knew he should have made him stand in the corner, but he didn’t have the heart to do it. Sam was repentant, and besides, Dean hadn’t had to stand in the corner, so it really wouldn’t have been fair to make Sam do it. Sam was quick to turn his back to his family, pulling the covers up over his head to try and block out the sounds.
Speaking of Dean, he thought, turning back to his eldest son. The twelve year old was still sitting on the bed, carefully studying the floor. It was always hard enough for him to hear his younger brother get punished, and John was sure that the added pressure of having to watch was close to traumatic for the kid. John sat down on the bed and gently placed a hand on the back of Dean’s neck.
“You okay?” John asked in a low voice.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replied dejectedly. He swallowed and looked up into his father’s eyes. “Should I go get the paddle now?”
John looked at him curiously. “Dean, I just told you that I wasn’t going to paddle you boys.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Dean uncomfortably. “But I thought that was just for Sammy. I mean, I talked him into eating the candy, and then I told him it would be fun to stay up late instead of going to bed when you told us to. I disobeyed you twice, and I just figured…well, I figured that you’d paddle me,” he finished lamely.
John sighed. Although he was proud of Dean for always owning up when he needed punishment, it did get very complicated at times. The kid always felt like he deserved more than he actually did. Spanking Sam was difficult because his youngest was always so pitiful, but spanking Dean was downright frustrating because he bore more than he could take. Well, not this time. John thought to himself.
“Dean, I am only gonna say this once, so you listen up,” he said firmly. Dean immediately sat up straight, not breaking eye contact with his father. “I am the parent here. I decide who gets punished, and I decide if you deserve the paddle. And right now, I’ve decided that you deserve a sound spanking with my hand, and no more. Are we clear on this, or are you going to continue to be insubordinate?”
“Yes, sir…I mean, no, sir. I won’t be insubordinate anymore,” Dean replied quickly, blushing slightly at the reprimand.
“Alright, then, let’s get this over with,” John said. Dean allowed his dad to lift him from the bed and position him across his lap, tugging his pants down to his knees after he was adjusted. John didn’t want to waste any time with this stubborn son of his, and he began spanking hard and fast right off the bat. He knew that Dean would try and be tough, thinking that he deserved a harsher spanking than he did for disobeying his dad, and John had no intention of spanking the boy all night.
Even without the use of a paddle, he quickly turned Dean’s bottom a dark pink, covering the bare backside with wave after wave of stinging swats. He was relieved when for once his hard-headed son didn’t try too hard to suck it up, but began crying softly after only a few minutes. As soon as he heard the muted sobs, John finished up the spanking with 6 hot swats to Dean’s thighs. He rested his hand on the quivering shoulders.
“It’s over now, Dean.” he said quietly. “You took that really well, buddy. I’m proud of you.” He slipped Dean’s pants up over his red bottom, flinching when Dean gave a small grunt of pain as the fabric touched the throbbing skin. He gently lifted Dean to sit on his lap, grateful when the boy laid his head on his shoulder, still sniffling slightly. He rocked Dean as he had rocked Sam earlier, gratified that the spanking was over. He was especially relieved when Dean lifted his head off his shoulder and said in his typical fashion, “Dude, that freakin’ hurt.”
John raised an eyebrow at him, although he was trying not to smile. “That was the whole point, kiddo. You gonna disobey me like that again anytime soon?” he asked seriously.
“No, sir,” Dean said obediently, shaking his head.
“Good,” John replied, giving him a small kiss on his forehead. “Thank you for staying with Sam earlier, son. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
Dean shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I couldn’t just leave the runt,” he said with good humor.
“I am NOT a runt!” Sam said loudly, forgetting about his sore bottom and sitting straight up in bed.
John chuckled and held out his hand. “Come over here, Sammy.” The little boy crawled out of bed and ran to his father and brother, climbing carefully onto John’s unoccupied knee. John cuddled them both close, relishing this stolen moment of having both his boys in his arms. “Now, both of you know that I expect you to obey me when I give you an order, and you know that I can’t have disobedience. I don’t like putting either of you over my knee, but you know that every time one of you disobeys, you’re gonna get your butts blistered.”
“Yes, sir,” the boys chorused.
John cuddled them each a little closer. “Alright, it’s way past you boys’ regular bedtime, and as I recall, I sent you up for an early bedtime as punishment for earlier. I think an early bedtime for the next three nights will do you two some good,” he said sternly.
Dean sighed. “Yes, sir,” he said reluctantly.
“Yes, sir,” Sam echoed, not able to stifle a yawn.
“Come on, let’s get you boys back into bed,” John said, starting to lift them off of his lap. Sam clung to his arm and he looked down at the small tear stained face. “What is it, Sammy?” he asked softly.
“Daddy…can we sleep with you tonight?” Sam asked hesitantly. John thought it over. He usually didn’t let the boys sleep with him, since he stayed up late and woke up early to do research most nights. Still they had all had a rough evening and maybe it would do them some good to stay close. “Sure, kiddo,” he said kindly. “Dean?” he asked. His twelve year old tried to look nonchalant as he replied, “Yeah, whatever.” John smiled, knowing it would have killed Dean to admit that he too wanted to sleep with his dad.
Half an hour later, all three Winchesters were safely in bed. John in an old Marine shirt and sweatpants lay in the center, with Sam curled up against his chest and Dean strewn across his other arm. For once, all three of them fell asleep feeling completely safe and loved.
PS-I probably won't get much writing done this next week because I am in South Pacific here at college and Sunday marks the beginning of Hell Week :( So I will be in debt to anyone who writes fics during this next week because I will need something to get me through :) And next week is my fall break, so I'm going to be writing a certain report card fic that a certain someone (Cam) has been begging me for months to write. Wish me luck!
Disclaimer: We do not own any of the Winchesters, because if we did John would be alive and spanking Sam and Dean at least once a week :)
No Candy Before Bed
John Winchester rubbed his hand wearily over his eyes. He was attempting to research a possible poltergeist situation about fifty miles away. Ordinarily, this would have been a simple task to accomplish… just look through the research and determine whether the reports were credible by discounting other possible solutions. However, his boys weren’t usually quite so wound up at 8:00 at night. Ever since they had finished dinner, Sam and Dean had been running through the apartment, playing tag and becoming increasingly loud.
“Dean! Sam!” he called sternly as the boys raced past the door to the back bedroom. He heard the telltale sounds of feet skidding to a halt and braced himself for the sound of a collision. Fortunately, none came, and the boys appeared in the doorway seconds later, out of breath from running and laughing.
“Yeah, Dad?” Dean asked politely before reaching out a finger to poke his little brother in the ribs. Sam squealed loudly as he dodged the latest onslaught of tickling.
“Boys!” John barked loudly, nipping it in the bud.
“Yes, sir?” they asked together. Two sets of wide green eyes stared up at him in confusion.
“I’m doing research. You need to keep it down. And you shouldn’t be running in the apartment anyway. I need you to knock it off and play quietly or go to bed.”
“Yes, sir.” Dean stared at the ground, uncomfortable at John’s reprimand, but Sam was already tugging at Dean’s arm, and he followed his brother back into the hall.
John shook his head at the way they had just blown off his warning. I guess I’m losing my touch, he thought ruefully, looking back down at the collection of statistics littering his desk. Within two minutes the noises had started up again, louder than before. He frowned, wondering what had gotten into them.
“Oww, Dean, let go!” Crash!
John pushed himself abruptly back from his desk and rose to his feet. “Boys!” he yelled, noticing that the noises instantly stopped. “Get in here! Now!” He waited as Dean and Sam bounced into the room, apparently unfazed by his threatening tone.
“Didn’t I tell you two to be careful when you’re playing indoors ?” John questioned sternly.
“Yes, sir!” Sam giggled, hopping from one foot to the other. John rolled his eyes, exasperated, and placed his hands on the eight-year-olds’ shoulders, trying to hold him still.
“And didn’t I tell you to keep it down while I researched?” he questioned.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, still shuffling around, but no longer smiling as he took in his father’s irritated expression.
“That’s what I thought,” John said, before pulling the chair out from behind his desk and tugging Sam toward him.
Sam may have been completely oblivious to John’s earlier scolding, but he knew instantly what his father was planning to do. “No, Dad!” he protested, digging his heels into the ground. But he was no match for his father’s strong grip, and he found himself staring at the floor with his little bottom in the air, providing a perfect target for John’s hard hand.
John landed the first smack right in the center of Sam’s behind, causing the little boy to howl and squirm. “Hold still, Samuel,” he said calmly, swatting him several more times. After 16 spanks, John lifted his crying son to his feet and gave him a brief hug before gently pushing him to stand beside his brother.
“Dean,” he said simply, holding out a hand to his eldest son. Dean didn’t hesitate before positioning himself at his father’s side and allowing him to drape him over his lap. He bore his own two dozen swats stoically, whimpering softly when the spanks hit his tender thighs. When it was over, John lifted him to his feet and gave him his own brief hug.
“Come here, Sammy,” he said gently, reaching out to guide the still whimpering child to stand directly in front of him. Sam reluctantly came forward and John lifted him to sit on his lap, pulling Dean in close with his other arm.
“Now,” he said firmly, “I don’t know what has gotten into you two, but you know better than to run around the apartment and cause so many distractions while I’m working. Since you can’t seem to behave yourselves, you’re getting an early bedtime tonight.”
Sam’s lower lip began to protrude as John announced his decision. “Samuel, do you want to go over my knee again, young man?” he asked sternly. Sam quickly shook his head no, but kept the pitiful look on his face.
John sighed and cuddled Sam a little closer. “Alright then. I want both of you to go upstairs and get ready for bed. I will be up in twenty minutes to tuck you in and if you’re not in bed with your teeth brushed, faces washed, and pajamas on, you’re going to be sleeping on your stomachs tonight, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” they chorused.
“Good,” John replied. “Now scoot,” he added, sending them both scurrying out the door with a couple of light swats.
Twenty minutes later exactly, John entered the boys’ bedroom to find both of them obediently curled up on their stomachs. He smiled to himself. They really are good boys he thought. He walked over to Dean first and sat on the edge of his bed. His “grownup” twelve-year-old usually protested the tuck-in ritual, unless he had just been spanked. Although he didn’t request it, John knew that Dean needed the extra reassurance of being tucked in after he got his bottom warmed. He pulled the covers up around the boy’s thin shoulders, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
“Goodnight, Dean,” he said softly, running his hand through his son’s messy hair before walking over to Sam’s bed. His eight-year-old, although already showing a strong stubborn streak, still loved to be cuddled, read to and tucked in at night. John lifted the covers up to his chin, rubbing a hand over the boy’s back to get him to snuggle down.
“Goodnight, Sammy,” he said, leaning over to give his youngest a kiss. “Goodnight, Daddy,” Sam replied, staring back at his father with large, red-rimmed eyes. John rubbed his back one more time before turning off the light and heading back to his study.
It was just after ten when John finally came to a stopping point on his research. The signs didn’t seem to point to a poltergeist after all, but John would make a quick trip out to the site tomorrow just to make sure.
He pulled out his map of the area again when an idea struck him. It really wasn’t like his boys to be so hyper... and they hadn’t really touched the dinner either. He strode to the kitchen, thinking ominously of the trouble the boys would be in if they had gotten into their candy.
Sure enough, the bags were missing. He let out a frustrated groan. Early bedtime be damned, he decided. This needed to be addressed now.
He was shocked when he opened the door to find the boys sitting on Dean’s bed, surrounded by candy wrappers and their mouths full of chocolate.
“Boys!” he barked, causing the two pajama clad figures in front of him to jump. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Sam looked at his brother frantically, not saying a word, but of course Dean had a smart-ass answer at the ready. “Well, we had to eat something,” he answered snarkily. “I mean seriously, Dad, have you ever tasted your own cooking?”
The sarcastic smirk adorning Dean’s face quickly faded as John approached him slowly and menacingly. The elder Winchester yanked him up by the arm and had him bent over the bed in a matter of seconds. “Do you think disobeying me is funny, Dean?” he growled, delivering six sharp swats to the pajama clad butt in front of him.
“Ow! No sir,” Dean declared, the hard slaps reigniting the sting of his earlier spanking.
“Good,” said John, adding another four swats for good measure before releasing Dean and planting him firmly on the bed, causing the boy to wince. “Now, let’s try this again. What exactly do the two of you think you’re doing eating all this candy this late at night?”
“We were tired of saving it,” Sam said quickly, before his dad decided to swat him too. “We wanted to eat more than three pieces a day, and dinner really didn’t taste all that good, and…” he trailed off as John glared at him.
“This wouldn’t be why you two were so hyperactive earlier, is it?” he questioned sternly. The twin guilty looks gave him his answer, and he rolled his eyes in desperation. “How much have you eaten?” he said with resignation.
“All of it, sir,” Dean answered quietly, avoiding his father’s eyes. John sighed and kneeled to the floor in front of them.
“Boys, didn’t I tell you that you were not allowed to eat more than three pieces of candy a day because any more would make you hyper?” He waited for both of his sons to nod before continuing. “And didn’t I give you an early bedtime tonight?” They nodded again, Sam sniffling slightly. “So you’ve disobeyed not one, but two orders from me, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Dean managed, while Sam just nodded his small head one more time, a tear dripping onto his pajama pants. “But it was my fault, not Sam’s. It was my idea.”
“Maybe so, Dean, but Sam ate the candy too,” said John. “You know I don’t like this, boys, but I think you know what has to happen next.” He started to rise to his feet, but he immediately dropped back down when Sam burst into a fit of hysterical sobs.
“Sammy,” said John concernedly, reaching out to pick up his sobbing son. He was shocked when Sam flinched from his touch, pressing himself close to Dean, who looked even more confused than John. “Sammy, son, what’s wrong?”
It took a few minutes of Dean rubbing Sam’s back and whispering reassurances to his little brother before Sam could finally speak coherently. “I…don’t…want…the paddle….D…Daddy!” he wailed, burying his face into Dean’s arms. “I’m s…sorry…pl…please don’t paddle me!”
“Oh, baby boy,” John said tenderly, reaching out for his youngest and taking a seat next to Dean on the bed. Sam resisted, but John clung to him tightly. “Sammy, the paddle is only for when you or your brother do something extremely disobedient and dangerous. I’m not going to use it on you all the time.”
Sam lifted his tear streaked face up. “But I thought…”
John cut him off, guiding the damp face back to rest on his shoulder. “Sammy, you and Dean were naughty, but you weren’t that naughty. I’m not going to paddle you, I promise.”
“Okay,” Sam whispered, clinging to his father’s flannel shirt, allowing the fabric to soak up his remaining tears. John held onto him a few minutes longer, rubbing Dean’s shoulder with his free hand before lifting Sam off his lap to stand on the floor.
“Now,” he said more firmly. “Just because I’m not going to paddle you doesn’t mean that I’m not going to spank you. You know better than to disobey me, and I think you both need a reminder to follow the rules. Dean, you get in the corner. Sam can have his spanking first.”
Dean obediently rose to his feet and turned in the direction of the corner, but Sam reached out and grabbed his arm, his large green eyes still brimming with tears. “Dean, don’t leave me,” he whispered pitifully.
“Sammy, Dad sent me to the corner. I have to go,” Dean said helplessly, trying to free himself from his brother’s grip. Sam held on desperately, slipping to the floor as he begged, “Dean, no! Don’t leave me!”
Dean looked at his father, unsure of what to do, and John sized up the situation quickly. “Sam, let go of Dean,” he said with authority. “Dean, you come back here and sit next to me on the bed.”
Dean looked confused, but he hurried to obey his father. John lifted Sam over his lap, settling the little boy’s legs and torso on the soft mattress and laying his head down on Dean’s lap. “Sam, Dean’s gonna stay here with you while you get your spanking. But you need to behave yourself and not throw a tantrum. Otherwise he’s going in the corner, you understand?”
Sam nodded, sniffling and burying his face into Dean’s leg. Dean stroked his little brother’s hair, not wanting to watch him get spanked, but wanting to take care of him as he always did. John carefully pulled Sam’s flannel sleep pants down to his knees, gentling the shaking boy by patting his lower back softly. When Sam finally lay still, he raised his hand and began the spanking.
When John had drawn the conclusion that his boys had disobeyed two direct orders from him, his first instinct had been to spank them until they couldn’t sit down for a week. He hated to admit it now, but using the paddle had crossed his mind. He was much more of a pushover when it came to his kids than he would ever admit, though, and Sam’s despondent wails were causing him to go much easier on him than he normally would. Still, his hand smacked the tiny bottom again and again, turning it hot and red within a few minutes. Sam, already panic-stricken before the spanking began, wailed loudly with every swat, soaking his brother’s pants with his tears. John noticed that Dean was biting his lip and struggling to control his own breathing as his little brother’s distress began to take its toll. He hurriedly ended the spanking with four swats to the backs of Sam’s thighs and readjusted his pants before lifting his baby into his arms.
“Shh, Sammy, it’s over now, kiddo,” he soothed, rubbing his stinging hand through the boy’s sweaty curls. “You’re alright, baby, Daddy’s got you.” He rocked his son back and forth, feeling the sounds of Sam’s distraught wails tear at his heart.
Sam didn’t say anything for several minutes, just cried from the burn in his behind and the shame in his heart. Finally, he spoke, his voice muffled against John’s chest. “I’m s…sorry, Daddy.”
“I know you are, Sammy,” John said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his small head. “You’re forgiven now. Just don’t disobey me anymore, understand?” he added as a firm afterthought. He felt Sam nod against his chest, and he cuddled him for a few more minutes before lifting him in his arms and setting him on his own bed. “You stay here while I punish your brother,” he said gently, receiving a weak nod from his little boy. He knew he should have made him stand in the corner, but he didn’t have the heart to do it. Sam was repentant, and besides, Dean hadn’t had to stand in the corner, so it really wouldn’t have been fair to make Sam do it. Sam was quick to turn his back to his family, pulling the covers up over his head to try and block out the sounds.
Speaking of Dean, he thought, turning back to his eldest son. The twelve year old was still sitting on the bed, carefully studying the floor. It was always hard enough for him to hear his younger brother get punished, and John was sure that the added pressure of having to watch was close to traumatic for the kid. John sat down on the bed and gently placed a hand on the back of Dean’s neck.
“You okay?” John asked in a low voice.
“Yes, sir,” Dean replied dejectedly. He swallowed and looked up into his father’s eyes. “Should I go get the paddle now?”
John looked at him curiously. “Dean, I just told you that I wasn’t going to paddle you boys.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Dean uncomfortably. “But I thought that was just for Sammy. I mean, I talked him into eating the candy, and then I told him it would be fun to stay up late instead of going to bed when you told us to. I disobeyed you twice, and I just figured…well, I figured that you’d paddle me,” he finished lamely.
John sighed. Although he was proud of Dean for always owning up when he needed punishment, it did get very complicated at times. The kid always felt like he deserved more than he actually did. Spanking Sam was difficult because his youngest was always so pitiful, but spanking Dean was downright frustrating because he bore more than he could take. Well, not this time. John thought to himself.
“Dean, I am only gonna say this once, so you listen up,” he said firmly. Dean immediately sat up straight, not breaking eye contact with his father. “I am the parent here. I decide who gets punished, and I decide if you deserve the paddle. And right now, I’ve decided that you deserve a sound spanking with my hand, and no more. Are we clear on this, or are you going to continue to be insubordinate?”
“Yes, sir…I mean, no, sir. I won’t be insubordinate anymore,” Dean replied quickly, blushing slightly at the reprimand.
“Alright, then, let’s get this over with,” John said. Dean allowed his dad to lift him from the bed and position him across his lap, tugging his pants down to his knees after he was adjusted. John didn’t want to waste any time with this stubborn son of his, and he began spanking hard and fast right off the bat. He knew that Dean would try and be tough, thinking that he deserved a harsher spanking than he did for disobeying his dad, and John had no intention of spanking the boy all night.
Even without the use of a paddle, he quickly turned Dean’s bottom a dark pink, covering the bare backside with wave after wave of stinging swats. He was relieved when for once his hard-headed son didn’t try too hard to suck it up, but began crying softly after only a few minutes. As soon as he heard the muted sobs, John finished up the spanking with 6 hot swats to Dean’s thighs. He rested his hand on the quivering shoulders.
“It’s over now, Dean.” he said quietly. “You took that really well, buddy. I’m proud of you.” He slipped Dean’s pants up over his red bottom, flinching when Dean gave a small grunt of pain as the fabric touched the throbbing skin. He gently lifted Dean to sit on his lap, grateful when the boy laid his head on his shoulder, still sniffling slightly. He rocked Dean as he had rocked Sam earlier, gratified that the spanking was over. He was especially relieved when Dean lifted his head off his shoulder and said in his typical fashion, “Dude, that freakin’ hurt.”
John raised an eyebrow at him, although he was trying not to smile. “That was the whole point, kiddo. You gonna disobey me like that again anytime soon?” he asked seriously.
“No, sir,” Dean said obediently, shaking his head.
“Good,” John replied, giving him a small kiss on his forehead. “Thank you for staying with Sam earlier, son. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
Dean shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I couldn’t just leave the runt,” he said with good humor.
“I am NOT a runt!” Sam said loudly, forgetting about his sore bottom and sitting straight up in bed.
John chuckled and held out his hand. “Come over here, Sammy.” The little boy crawled out of bed and ran to his father and brother, climbing carefully onto John’s unoccupied knee. John cuddled them both close, relishing this stolen moment of having both his boys in his arms. “Now, both of you know that I expect you to obey me when I give you an order, and you know that I can’t have disobedience. I don’t like putting either of you over my knee, but you know that every time one of you disobeys, you’re gonna get your butts blistered.”
“Yes, sir,” the boys chorused.
John cuddled them each a little closer. “Alright, it’s way past you boys’ regular bedtime, and as I recall, I sent you up for an early bedtime as punishment for earlier. I think an early bedtime for the next three nights will do you two some good,” he said sternly.
Dean sighed. “Yes, sir,” he said reluctantly.
“Yes, sir,” Sam echoed, not able to stifle a yawn.
“Come on, let’s get you boys back into bed,” John said, starting to lift them off of his lap. Sam clung to his arm and he looked down at the small tear stained face. “What is it, Sammy?” he asked softly.
“Daddy…can we sleep with you tonight?” Sam asked hesitantly. John thought it over. He usually didn’t let the boys sleep with him, since he stayed up late and woke up early to do research most nights. Still they had all had a rough evening and maybe it would do them some good to stay close. “Sure, kiddo,” he said kindly. “Dean?” he asked. His twelve year old tried to look nonchalant as he replied, “Yeah, whatever.” John smiled, knowing it would have killed Dean to admit that he too wanted to sleep with his dad.
Half an hour later, all three Winchesters were safely in bed. John in an old Marine shirt and sweatpants lay in the center, with Sam curled up against his chest and Dean strewn across his other arm. For once, all three of them fell asleep feeling completely safe and loved.