In the Hole (Tekken)

[Croup]

"Weekly? In front of 'em? Aw c'mon . . . " Paul just groaned as he measured the associated costs for his various options. At first he leaned towards keeping it private--but had the feeling Law really wouldn't hold back if given daily access to his ass. If he wanted to enjoy sitting on his motorcycle any time after it came back from the garage, better to go weekly. Besides, he had the feeling Forrest and Steve would find out about this anyway--if they hadn't already.

"Fine," he said glumly, working his grizzled jaw to get the words out. "A weekly spanking it is then. Shit! I can't believe I just said that."

[AllThatBara]

Perfect. A nightly punishment session would've been hell on Marshall's palm, leaving the skin tender and pink and stinging to the touch. Understandably he was less concerned with the state Paul's ass would have wound up in. In fact he got an odd sense of satisfaction out of the idea, the thought of his best friend trapped over his lap for, say, the tenth day in a row with nowhere to go, ass cheeks burning red and decorated with welts put there by calloused hands...

"Good choice," he reached down to help Paul up to his feet. "Let's head back in there and get started with round one. Consider it an advanced repayment."

There was no room to argue. No trace of a joke despite Marshall's curled lips and the sparkle behind his eyes. He truly intended to spank Paul right in front of Steve and Forest. Provide a little mid-meal entertainment for the boys. Show them what happens to those who step out of line under his roof, and that you're never too old for a real spanking at the hands of a pro. Expecting Paul to follow if he wanted the money, Marshall headed back into the room and was greeted by a grinning pair of eavesdroppers plus a seat they'd already set out in anticipation of the show.

"Well now, would you look at this." He sank onto the chair, spread his legs and patted his lap. "Things are all set up for us. Hop on."

[Croup]

"Wait . . . you mean right now?" Paul asked, following numbly behind. Was this really happening? Any second now Marshall was gonna laugh it off as one big practical joke, right?

But as he stepped into the kitchen, he saw that preparations had already been made. A chair was set in the middle of the floor, with plenty of room around it for a good swing of an arm, as well as kicking legs. Steve and Forrest were there grinning from ear to ear, making it clear they'd not only heard everything, but were clearly willing to assist. Paul didn't know what to say. It was like the stars were all aligning in favor of him getting his butt beat today.

Was that a . . spatula pointedly set on the table?

Shit.

Paul felt that some words were in order though, if only to explain the situation so that the younger guys didn't get the wrong idea. He cleared his throat. "Uhh, Forrest, your father and I, we agreed that--"

"He's always bailing you out of jams, so now he's gonna take it out of your ass!" the younger Law enthused.

"Uhhh . . . yeah!" Paul said, not expecting quite that level of glee. Geez, he'd bought the kid his first beer only a few years back! Now he was practically foaming at the mouth to watch his father's partner get figuratively taken out to the woodshed. He didn't meet Steve's eye, but figured that guy was just as eager to see some punishment doled out.

"Well . . . okay then . . . " he grumbled, there being nothing left to do but obey Marshall's instructions. Feeling ridiculous still being in his full leather biker gear, he stretched out over Marshall's thighs and deposited his weight over the china-man's thighs.

[AllThatBara]

Forest must have set the spatula out; experience taught the boy how much the flat utensil hurt when wielded by an experienced hand. Wooden spoons work just as well to spread the pain over a boy's badly behaved butt; bent over the kitchen table, trousers around the ankles, clutching onto the polished surface while the sounds of punishment sounded through the kitchen. The younger of the Laws hadn't acted out of line enough to warrant a punishment in the kitchen in quite some time, not since Steve and Paul crashed with the father and son pair, but perhaps Paul was destined to discover the range of kitchen tools that doubled as spanking instruments in the not too distant future.

"Those pants frame your ass quite nicely," Marshall said, his hand roaming across Paul's upturned rump nice and slowly. "But they'll have to come down after your warm up. We can't have them getting in the way of this lesson, right?" The question was directed at Steve and Forest, with their answer almost as predictable as Paul borrowing more money. Both guys - boys, really - nodded in unison and urged Marshall to peel those tight leather pants down before he set Paul free. The head of the house wasn't one to disappoint.

"Paul here is borrowing more money," he brought his hand up -- it hung in the air. "To encourage him to pay it back in full this time, he'll be spanked every week until the debt is paid." Marshall's palm swooped down to attack, biting into Paul's ass with a harsh crack which seemed to fill the room. The boys chuckled, loud and unrestrained, and Marshall let them finish before he spoke again. "You're both welcome to join in, because he needs to be motivated. In fact, we'll spank you if we find out you've been wasting money on anything you don't need." His hand crashed down again, driving the stinging heat through Paul's leathers. When Steve laughed nice and loud a second time, and Forest leaned in to get a look at Paul's flushed face, Marshall delivered a blow neither of them expected.

"This is how things work for all three of you now. Borrowing money comes with this new payment plan!"

[Croup]

"P--payment plan? Oh c'mon dad . . . " Forrest mumbled, flushed. But he didn't exactly want to protest too loudly, or his father was liable to let slip how he was already under his thumb--or palm, in this case--regardless, even if he'd been on the relative straight and narrow the last few weeks. And the last thing he needed was his new friend Steve teasing him about how he still got spanked around by his old man.

Speaking of Steve, how did he feel about all this? Sure, it was one thing to watch Paul get a good spankdown--that guy had been begging for it practically since before they were in diapers. But to find himself draped over the elder Law's lap, those sharp, firm slaps directed at his own round, delectably toned, glistening (Law had spied him coming out of the shower once) globes?

The boxer appeared lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the beefy curve of Paul's leather-clad butt, which was already giving an appreciative wiggle as Marshall's palm lashed down on it again--and then again once more. A cadence was being established. A rhythm.

"Hmmm, fair enough Marshall. It's your house, your rules," Steve said, an air of cockiness to his tone . . . or perhaps that was just the Aussie lilt to his voice. "But where's the fairness? If the three of us are subject to your rules--I'd say the opposite should hold as well. If you break one of your own laws, logic suggests you ought to find yourself spread over one of our laps as well."

"Yow! Hey, what did ya mean--after the warmup? Ahh! You mean there's more than this??" Paul asked plaintively, his ass cheeks clenching as Marshall's palm kept slamming down hard on them.

[AllThatBara]

Marshall ignored his son's predictable protests and Paul's pained complaints - how cute, he wanted to speak like a grown up! - in favour of meeting Steve's challenge head on. Perhaps ignored is the wrong word: Forrest's earned himself a look - the look he got before a harsh lesson delivered over his father's lap, the kitchen table, the sofa... - which was nothing compared to the constant crash of his palm against Paul's ass. No amount of wiggling or squirming put a safe distance between that spankable ass and the vicious hand of an experienced father.

"The three of you are welcome to try it," he said with no small amount of pride, a smile crossing his face as he worked Paul over. Arrogance might be a better word, he was certain none of the three boys stood a chance against him whether on their own or as part of a trio. "But you'll be waiting a long time for the chance. The man of the house never breaks his own rules." Not where others might see. "If I break one of my rules, I'll let you spank me out front... if you can trap me over your lap."

The unspoken threat there - fail and you'll get worse than a semi-public spanking.

[Croup]

"Heh, is that so?" Steve asked, still paying no mind to the plaintive cries of Paul who was wiggling over Marhall's lap just like the little brat he clearly still was on the inside. Steve, too, was ignoring everything else and going straight for his chief rival in the house: the man who was currently delivering the painful spanking they were all witnessing, and plainly wouldn't hesitate to deliver plenty more. "Better be careful, I may just take you up on that, Marshall... I'm sure it'd be a sight for the neighbors!"

The challenge was plainly spoken, and now everyone knew it as clearly as if Steve had said, "You may think you're invincible here, but every man has a chink in his armor." Steve and Marshall were now engaged in a dangerous game where victory would only be declared when one man was red-bottomed and weeping over the other's lap. But just how long that would take to happen--and how many other bottoms would suffer in the meantime--was purely up to the skill with which they played.

"Yaaahhh, I think I'm warmed up now Marsh! C'mon maaan!" Paul groaned as the slaps just kept striking down on the seat of his leather biker pants.

[AllThatBara]

Perhaps it's for the best that Paul's complaint pulled the attention away from the tense back and forth. Marshall was this close to raising the bar when it came to the challenge just to prove he wouldn't back down in front of a cocky guy like Steve, but he's spared greater humiliation in the future all thanks to his best friend's current humiliation. Funny how the world works! Future Marshall may have to send back a thank you card when he winds up over Steve's lap, out in front of the house, yet spared the embarrassment of being chained up on the lawn like a bad dog.

"Someone's eager to have their pants pulled down," Marshall said with another combo of attacks, the heel of his palm hammering the lesson home to his long-suffering friend. An adult should know to live within his means. Grownups don't borrow money from their buddies with no intent to pay it back. Naughty brats stick their hands out for cash and don't think about the consequences. Guess which category Paul belonged to. "Are you sure this warm up is over?"

Still, he kept his eyes on Steve, silently threatening the upstart with the same treatment whenever he should step out of line.

[Croup]

"Uhhhh, wait a minute." Paul bit his lips as he winced and wiggled his butt. It was true he wanted the spanking over, but that didn't mean he wanted his pants taken down in front of the younger guys. Fuck, he couldn't even remember what underwear he'd put on that morning. Had it been one of his rattier boxers? A pair of cartoon briefs? Or... gulp... that pair of briefs? The one he really needed to get around to replacing, with so many holes in the seat that it may as well be called a jockstrap. "M--Maybe the warm-up can go on--yeow!--a little longer!"

Steve raised his eyebrows as Marshall kept his gaze locked on him. He clearly meant this demonstration on Paul to be a message of some kind. Well, Steve had messages of his own to send. Turning to Forrest, he asked the guy, "Hey by the way, you borrowed fifty bucks from me for a date and said you'd pay it all back last week. Do you have the money yet, mate?" he asked, knowing damn well that Forrest didn't. His lips quirked as he glanced back at Marshall. It'd just been made a precedent in this house that shirking on repaying loans carried a price. So surely Marshall wouldn't mind if Steve spanked his own son right in front of him... right?