WBY - Six Times a Charm (part eight)
His father opened up the front door, jumped out and almost simultaneously opened the back door pulling Adam out by the scruff of his collar.
“You kiddo, have plucked my last nerve.”
And with that his father pulled his belt out with a quick wrist action that probably couldn’t be duplicated by anyone else. He pushed Adam up against the Impala, using her as a lean to and proceeded to spank Adam’s pre-tenderized ass. AGAIN. Except this time wasn’t a lick and a promise, it was a full-fledged ass whooping with each stripe of the belt falling squarely on Adam’s ass.
“YEOW!”
“You wanna feel what it’s like to really get your butt whipped because truthfully, one through five on your ‘Spanking list’ were just wake up calls. Now THIS is an ass kicking.” His father renewed his attention to Adam’s behind.
Adam howled again and tried to struggle but his father’s left arm firmly pushed him against the car and his right just as firmly continued to blister his butt.
Adam held his breath and tried not to yell again. He consoled himself that the first few smacks had caught him off guard but now he was trying to keep some control in a situation that was completely uncontrollable.
His pride and his vocal cords but it didn’t last long.
“I’m sorry, Dad!”
“No, you’re not. I just stopped my son from getting molested and quite possibly raped and you are making jokes about rent boys! Do you think this is funny?”
“No! No, I just…” Adam sobbed, “I was just trying to lighten the situation up.”
“Well, how is that working for ya?” Dad renewed his efforts, as if actually articulating out loud how close his son had been to becoming statistic gave him added incentive. Adam lost count of licks, not that he was ever very accurate in counting them anyway. All he knew was that his father was putting some considerable effort into tanning his ass.
Adam flattened his hips against the car and that somehow gave him enough wiggle room to buck his butt to the right. His father brought the belt down hard and it slapped the Impala.
It made a distinctly different sound than belt on butt.
Dad paused then and peered at the reflection of the moon in the Impala’s deep luster. “You best not make me mess up her paint job.”
Paint job? Adam skin was being flayed off and his father was worried about the car?
Then the thought of what Dean would do if there was so much as a scratch on his girl made Adam fervently hoped the Impala remained unblemished.
He wished his butt unblemished. Apparently though that type of wish was not going to come happen tonight and truth be told, he wouldn’t be sitting easy for awhile.
And Dad was right. The other spankings, by Sam and Dean and hell, even Dad were nothing compared to this. Adam had a vague recollection that unless Dean had decided to “Walk” to another county, he felt sure his big brother heard him voice his displeasure quite loudly over spanking six.
Dad laid four more stripes across his jeans each one carefully placed and designed for maximum discomfort.
“If you ever, ever, EVER run away like that again and put yourself in danger over something so damn dumb I swear, I will wear your ass out!”
Adam sobbed, nodding his head, sputtering out a “Yes, sir.”
Well, that was what he tried to say but it came out slurred and sounding somewhat like a seal’s bark in the death throws of a killer whale’s jaws.
Damn, he had to stop watching PBS.
Adam took in another deep breath, oddly enough his father did too - as if both of them needed to breath to re-group and then Dad dropped the belt on the ground. Adam could hear the buckle’s brass clatter against the rocks on the side of the road. It was disturbing that he knew that damn belt well enough to differentiate the sounds of it hitting the ground.
It was done, thank God.
Then just as quickly Dad pulled back his right arm and swatted him hard open handed over his blazing rump five times in rapid succession. Shocked Adam could do no more than bang his hips up against the car in an effort to avoid his father’s hard hand. It did nothing to stop the onslaught or eliminate any hand to ass action.
Dad leaned over him driving his upper body up against the Impala. Adam was over come with the physical presence of his father. He smelled of leather and sweat and the earthy scent of grave dirt. Despite the pain in his ass, his father’s presence was reassuring. His voice? Less so, “Get your ass in the car.”, his father rumbled and then Dad whistled sharp and quick.
Adam scrambled to do his father’s bidding diving into the car headfirst.
A moment later Dean appeared at the rear door opening it quickly and sliding himself in next to Adam. His father stayed outside the car, leaning against the quarter panel. Adam saw the brief flame as his father lit a cigarette and then just the soft glow of the tip.
“You alright?” Dean asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Adam answered in what was most definitely not a snivel.
Dean snorted, “Sure you are. Anybody can take a belt licking from Dad and not even bat an eye.”
“Didn’t say that,” Adam admitted. He rubbed the palm of his hand across his face, wiping tears and quite possibly snot away. “What’s he doing?” Adam nodded toward his father through the back seat window.
“Smoking a cigarette, looks like.”
“Why?”
“Nerves.”
“Dad?” Adam voice sounded shocked even to him.
“Yeah, little brother, you scared the shit out of him tonight.” Dean poked Adam in the chest with his finger.
“Me?”
“Something wrong with your hearing? Never knew a beating to affect you ears but there’s a first time for everything.”
“No, I just… why was he scared.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You ran away, got picked up by a child molester and hell, could’ve been eaten by monsters.”
“Nothin’ woulda happened. I had it under control.” Adam said with a scowl. He hiccupped in a vain effort to bring in more oxygen.
“Yeah, you tell yourself that - I got some ocean front property in Arizona for you to buy too.”
“Dick.” Adam said.
“Shithead.” Dean countered.
Adam tried to settle himself comfortably in the seat. It was impossible. “How long is he going to stay out there?”
“Do I look like a psyhic?” Dean grumbled.
“No.”
“So shut up, “ Dean said.
Adam shut up.
Then, ignoring his own dictate, Dean turned to Adam,” Why the fuck you run away?”
“Dunno.”
“Sure you do.” Dean said, “So spill.”
It wasn’t an order but it was a brotherly demand. Dean usually got what he demanded.
“I got tired of getting my hide tanned.”
“And this was your solution to that?”
Adam frowned, “Well, when you put it that way…”
“No other way to put it, Ads. Did you think that you were really going to be able to get away from Dad? Did you think that even if you made it out of Nevada that he wouldn’t hunt to the ends of the earth to find you? And for getting your butt spanked? Stupid. Plus, knowing he’d find you, did you think he wouldn’t give you a licking for running? “ Dean looked out the window, “Seems like a pretty fucked up plan if you ask me.”
“Wasn’t asking you,” Adam countered.
Dean turned to Adam then, green eyes serious. “Kid, what you did tonight? So dangerous. So scary. Dad almost lost his shit when we pulled up to the house and you weren’t there. Sammy was babbling about lemon chicken and missing homework assignments, we could barely get him to calm down long enough to tell us what happened.” Dean cocked his head like a dog listening for his master’s voice., “I actually think Dad had to threaten him with an ass kicking before he was able to spill.”
Adam frowned at the thought of Sam hysterically looking around for him. He was mad at Sammy for the spanking but he didn’t really want him feeling bad about Adam leaving. Wel, maybe a little bit, but not like Dean was describing.
“Dude, we are Winchesters. You disobey Dad and you might find yourself getting your ass kicked.”
“Yeah - okay, he’s the dad, I get that but what about you and Sammy?”
“Chain of command, little brother. You’re a Marine’s son. You should know this.”
Adam nodded. He did know but it didn’t make him feel better. He gestured to his father still outside. “Is that his second cigarette?”
Dean shook his head, “Third.”
“Is he giving us time to talk?”
“Maybe, but I doubt it, like I said you scared the shit out of him. Dad doesn’t like to seem like he gets scared much but when it comes to us boys…well, we are his soft spot.”
“Soft spot? I don’t see any soft spot. Maybe a sore spot.”
Dean laughed then and shook his head, “You are such a dweeb.”
Adam wanted to laugh but he couldn’t. The whole situation still just felt painful, in everyway possible.
Dean leaned back against the seat, fingers laced behind his head, half drowsing. Adam glanced at his father. There was no cigarette now but he still hadn’t moved.
Adam did move though, he yelped when a particularly abused part of his butt somehow bumped into the ashtray. The Impala was a big car but not big enough when you were post Winchester spanking trying to find a comfortable position.
Dean laughed again, this time closer to a guffaw.
Adam glared at his brother, “You know, I would think that while you might believe in spankings, you might have just a little sympathy for your brother’s pain. I don’t ever recall laughing at you after Dad has decided to roast your ass.”
Dean grinned, “Not laughing at that, Ads….What did you tell Dad when you were all crazy? Something about he was gonna take you out and reinstitute the art of stoning? SERIOUSLY? You are such an idiot! Who the hell thinks about getting stoned when their father is going to whip their butt?”
Adam snorted then thought about the statement, “Well, if you were stoned on some high quality shit, maybe the spanking wouldn’t feel so bad.”
Dean shook his head, “Nope, little brother, that kind of stone will lead you to another licking. Trust me. Been there, done that.”
“You mean you….?”
Their father interrupted their conversation by opening the Impala’s driver door and sliding in effortlessly. The seat groaned a bit with his weight, but it was a comfortable sound.
Dean leaned over and whispered low into Adam’s ear, “Yup, I did and I don’t plan on again.”
Adam’s eyes widened but he spoke just as low to his brother, “What? When? Tell me?”
Dean laughed, “Nope, that’s a story for another time. Preferably when we are not held hostage in my girl. Certainly not within arms shot of the old man.”
From the front seat his father grunted, a decidedly Winchester sound. “Old man? I’ll show you old man. You two better watch yourselves back there.” Dad’s voice was low but he wasn’t growling, in fact, if Adam didn’t know any better he’d swear his father was holding back a giggle. If he giggled that is.
“Yes, sir.” Both both boys answered in tandem.
Dean laughed again and Adam couldn’t help but join in.
End.