Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You okay?"

Sadie looked up at the guy silhouetted in the open door. All she really got the impression of was bulk, then he moved his head and the light from the corridor behind him gave her a shadowy impression of a scowl, but unexpectedly soft brown eyes.

She shrugged. "Go away."

He glanced along the corridor both ways behind him, before stepping inside and shutting them both into the dark store cupboard. "Yeah, no. Someone tells me what to do and I get all curious about what happens if I do the opposite."

"Stay here, then," she snapped, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

Sadie felt more than saw him feel his way along the shelves and sit down against the one opposite her.

"I think I will, thanks. Door is there if you really can't stand my presence, but if you want to vent, I'm up for listening. Orientation is going on right now and you're hiding in here instead of listening to them droning on about achievement and inclusivity and whatever. Why?"

His teasing tone didn't make her think he was about to drag her back there, so she relaxed a little. "Why are you hiding in here, then?" she demanded right back.

"Because it's more fun if I make him hunt me." As Sadie's eyes adjusted, she saw his scowl had been replaced by a lopsided grin. "Gotta test those boundaries nice and early."

"W-what will he do when he finds you?" Sadie asked.

"You're at Bratford, what the hell do you think?" He paused. "Don't tell me you somehow missed the big scary pamphlet about all caps Discipline and thought the lifestyle assessment was a practical joke."

Sadie shook her head. She hadn't known at first, missing the grades to get into her three choices of university - not her fault, honestly - and going through clearing, phoning any university that offered the degree she wanted and begging them to take her, she'd mostly been relieved that any had offered her a place. But she'd done her research on the four that had.

At the time, she'd been frantic to get any offers and she didn't have long to confirm her choice. London was out, too far and too expensive. Devon seemed nice, but with her family living in Yorkshire, that was way too far as well. Which left it down to the last two. If the fact it was a 'lifestyle' school had been a problem, she'd have accepted being a couple of hours further away from her family. Instead she'd been intrigued and a little excited by the idea.

The reality had been the same, right up until she'd walked into orientation and someone had told her to stand at the side with a handful of other students because she was 'out of uniform'. Sadie had looked down at the burgundy blazer that the handbook had assured her was the only requirement and her choice of smart white blouse and her old black school trousers and asked what was wrong with it. The unimpressed older student had immediately swatted her bottom and she'd panicked and fled.

"Apparently I missed something in the uniform requirements and I don't even know what," she told him miserably.

He stood up, pulled on a cord to switch on the light. Once she'd adjusted to the brightness, she saw his hair was dyed an electric blue, at odds with his blazer and suit trousers. "You look fine from this angle, but you didn't get those trousers from the official supplier, did you?" He turned around and she saw what he was talking about, the back of his trousers had a flap, fastened up at the top, but very obviously for easy access to his bottom.

"I can't wear that!" Sadie's own bottom was tingling and it wasn't just because she was getting numb from sitting on the hard floor.

He laughed. "They'll try and enforce uniform for a couple of weeks, but all us Fresher brats will soon notice that the older ones are refusing to dress this way and you'll be back in casual in no time. Only Tops wear the blazers, really, and they aren't required to have drop seats. Probably because they're the only ones who stick to the rules and that way around really wouldn't be fair."

"I am a Top," she told him.

He shifted uneasily, suddenly looking at her like she had admitted to being a werewolf. "Sorry for intruding on your hiding spot, ma'am," he said, with an uncomfortable amount of deference. Then he abruptly laughed again. "Shit, you really aren't passing, not if someone tried to smack you for not wearing the brat uniform. Like, how new are you to this, exactly?"

Sadie shook her head. "I've never anything really, just thought about ..."

He considered her. "You won't be the only one, something like sixty per cent of the Top intake haven't spanked anyone and that's just the ones who'll admit it. No prior education means you'll be on the foundational course your first semester. Start you right out with the basics, but my advice, you need to act like it's an insult that they're even bothering. Those other new Tops, they're going to really believe that and they'll eat you alive if you don't. You haven't got the right attitude yet."

"Attitude? Like, what, Heidi's demonic cheerleader shit?"

He laughed. "Your mentor?"

"Dorm prefect," Sadie explained, hoping those weren't the same thing.

"Whatever else she is, the thing she's got that you don't is confidence. You're a Top, that means when I call you ma'am, you act like that's the least respect you're due. That's the first thing we need to work on." He held out his hand to help her up.

She wasn't sure at what point they'd become a we, but she also wasn't going to argue with an offer to help navigate this stuff. Sadie took his hand.

Leaving the cupboard, he gave a nervous look in both directions, then pulled her along quickly, pressing his back to any corners they had to go around and checking the coast was clear before proceeding. It made the act of just walking through empty corridors strangely exciting.

"What's your name?" she hissed as they left the building and ducked behind a hedge.

"Lamb," he told her. "Freshman, like you, but bratty to the bone."

Sadie frowned. "How do you know the campus already if you're new here?"

"I'm legacy," he told her. "Both parents and one older sister, all lifestyle. Plus I'm local, been doing summer and evening classes here since I turned sixteen." They turned another corner and he opened a door. "Ladies first, ma'am."

It was an empty classroom that at first glance looked like a very well equipped drama studio, until she paid a bit more attention to the paraphernalia and realised it included paddles, gags and at least one pair of handcuffs. There was a rail of clothes against one wall, mostly outfits like those she'd seen during the dorm trip to Spencer and Marks for uniforms and first implements and not had the courage to look at more closely.

"It's polite to give your name in return," Lamb told her, mock stern.

"Sadie," she told him. "Sadie Burns."

He politely didn't laugh. Barely. "Ah. Your parents are vanilla and they named you ..."

It took her a moment to get it, it was just her name and that hadn't been the thing she'd been teased about at school. "Oh my God, you're right. Everyone here is going to ..."

Lamb shook his head. "Didn't pay attention to the staff list either, huh? Mostly, people are going to be jealous that your kink name matches your legal one. Don't be surprised if you encounter some truly groan-worthy puns. My sister, Kirsty, shared her dorm with a girl who went by the name Missy Behave for like two months before deciding to change it back, because she kept reacting whenever anyone said either half and most of the time it wasn't actually directed at her."

Sadie walked further into the room, examining the items. "And that was, just, fine?"

Lamb nodded. "Why wouldn't it be? As long as you let the administration know and aren't changing it every week, aliases and preferred names will be respected. Most people will call you by your surname though, first names are for close friends and when you're in trouble."

"What is this room?" she asked, reaching out to touch a cane, then recoiling when it didn't turn out to be an illusion.

"Drama studio," Lamb said. "Roleplay suite. Same thing here. What are you studying?"

"History. Why are we in this room?"

"Mine's Bratting. If you aren't doing a lifestyle degree, you should sign up for some clubs and societies or at least try their taster sessions. So, what are you into?"

"That's not answering my question," Sadie pointed out in order to avoid answering his.

"We're in here because I want you to pick out, let's say, five things you're interested in knowing more about. There's no actual sex stuff in here and no shame, whatever intrigues you. You know what, make it even, I'll pick five things too." Lamb didn't hesitate to take the cane she'd briefly touched. "Implement of choice at Beaton, my sixth form college, but a whole lot more painful than I like." He put it back down and chose a small paddle instead. "Pain isn't my thing, really, but I am here for the discipline. A good spanking works for me in ways I don't know how to put into words." He gave her an encouraging smile. "Your turn."

"Why do you want me to do that?"

"Because the next time someone challenges your authority, I want you to have something ready, in your mind, to help you remember precisely what you are, ma'am. Once you're imagining punishing whoever is challenging your natural authority, you'll have the attitude to match."

That almost made sense.

An implement seemed like a safe bet, so she reached for the cane, then reconsidered and took another small paddle instead. "I ... I think I'd like to know how to use this."

"That will definitely be part of your lifestyle module." He looked around, then grabbed a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs and held them up. "These are adorable, but they'd do the trick. They're also the sort of thing vanilla people use and think they're being kinky. So that makes them embarrassing. Humiliating even. Which for me is a huge plus."

It still didn't feel like he was hitting on her. Just sharing his kinks as casually as if they were discussing favourite films. At the end of it, she also had a blindfold, a dog leash, a feather duster and a dress that bore little resemblance to any modern nursing uniform, but was still a recognisable costume.

Lamb surveyed her choices like an appraiser on Antiques Roadshow. "Discipline aside, that's sensory deprivation, pet play, sensation play and roleplay. There are societies specialising in sensation, pets and so so many roleplay groups. I think there's a couple that are specifically medical, but I didn't look into that much. Needles are a definite no for me. Great job, really. A list of things you want to try should keep Freshers' Fair from being a complete overwhelm too. I'll keep an eye out for you there the day after tomorrow, Sadie Burns."

She wasn't sure she liked the way he said her name. Like he was telling an in joke. The sense of inclusion was nice, it just being her name wasn't.

"Nurse was a bad choice," Sadie admitted. "I don't like needles either." She just hadn't had the courage to pick the outfit she actually wanted that had been right next to it. Especially since she'd then have had to explain that she didn't want to be the one wearing it. "I think roleplay is interesting though. I'll see what groups there are."

Lamb nodded encouragingly. "Personally, I don't see the need for a plot beyond two or more people wanting to do something to or with each other, but that's the great thing about kink. Diversity. Right now, I should go find the guy who was supposed to track me down and tell him he's a terrible hunter, but I hope we run into each other again, Burns."

"Likewise, Lamb."

He gave her a silly little salute and left her there to tidy up the mess he'd been the catalyst for making. Sadie supposed that tracked. For a brat.

Chapter Text

Heidi plastered a fake and cheery smile on as she greeted the family that had arrived late in the afternoon on orientation day rather than at any point during the week beforehand set aside for moving in.

"Hello and welcome to the University of Bratford," she chirped. "I'm Heidi Sitwell and the prefect in charge of this dorm, so I'll be looking after Miss Tatham for at least her first year. If you follow me, I'll show you which room is hers."

Joshua tried not to react. She didn't know, there wasn't any way she could know.

Heidi turned sharply on her heel and marched through the communal sitting area and past the shared kitchen to the back corridor and row of six doors. Her bedroom was number one, located closest to the exit so anyone sneaking out would be more likely to be heard. Joshua would be in five. Heidi had used her label printer to put her girls' surnames on their doors. Burns, Namgung, Spooner, Tatham and Warwick. Spot the odd one out.

"I'm afraid orientation was held this morning," Heidi informed them. "It's really not optional, so Miss Tatham will have to attend the catch-up one tomorrow. Really, we do encourage everyone to arrive during welcome week, so our new students avoid missing anything important."

Joshua flinched and gave Heidi a miserable look. That was exactly what he'd told his mum.

"That's ridiculous," Mrs Tatham said immediately. "We couldn't take time off our jobs just to chauffeur Jessica halfway across the country in the middle of the week! I know exactly what you mean by catch-up and if my daughter is disciplined unfairly, she will not be continuing her education at this institution!"

Joshua winced a few more times during that speech, but kept quiet.

Heidi's peppy attitude wasn't going to be dented by one overbearing mother. "Catch-up means she'll be given the information she wasn't present for, that's all. I'll be sure to inform the relevant people precisely whose fault it is that she was absent."

Mrs Tatham looked at her suspiciously, but nodded. "Stuart, start unloading the car," she ordered her husband and he rushed off to obey. Urgh, they were beyond embarrassing, even here among other lifestyle people their dynamic was getting weird looks.

"I can help -" Joshua started.

"No, dear. That's what men are for," Mrs Tatham said without any hint of insincerity.

"How about I introduce Jessica to the other girls," Heidi suggested.

Joshua hunched into his oversized hoodie, but nodded and moved to join Heidi.

"Miss Sitwell," Mrs Tatham said, obnoxiously sweet. "Jessie will be updating me regularly and if she tells me you have treated her at all unreasonably, I will drive up on the weekend and paddle your insincere, passive aggressive, bratty bottom. She had enough trouble with bitchy, blonde, mean girls at school and I don't intend to allow another to torment her here. Is that understood?"

"Quite clear, ma'am," Heidi said, her smile still not slipping. "I have a zero tolerance bullying policy myself, this is my second year as a prefect and I can direct you to some of the girls I looked after last year if you need a testimony on my competence. However, nowhere on my record will you find the word Brat, unless it is closely followed by the word Tamer. Come along, Jessica."

Joshua followed as surely as if Heidi had yanked on a lead. He wondered if she'd be upset when she found out the truth. If she'd maybe punish him for it. He maybe hoped so.

Out in the main room, Heidi pulled a cord. "Tatham, this is connected to bells, one in each room. I can ring them individually too. If the bell in your room rings while you are in it, you're supposed to come out into this area and see what I want. You are never to ring the bells yourself. The punishment for failing to report or touching any of these strings will be an immediate hand spanking on the bare in front of the rest of the dorm." She must've already given the others that speech and they were coming out of their rooms as she finished speaking.

Joshua leaned in to read the labels besides each cord. The urge to pull one was only resisted by reminding himself his mother was in the other room. Last thing he wanted was her blowing up because Heidi gave him a spanking he'd very much asked for. "Okay."

"That's yes, ma'am, Tatham." Heidi gave him a more genuine smile. "I don't have many rules. Curfew of eleven pm, same as the campus wide. Room inspection for tidiness is Saturday at 8pm, so you have the whole day to make it presentable. Clean the kitchen area after you use it. Then there's just the obvious things like keeping the noise down and treating others with respect. I'm not here to be your mother, just to keep things civil and help out if anyone's struggling. Different levels of oversight work for different people, a dorm prefect is the least intrusive option, so I expect my girls to be well-behaved and self-sufficient. If you find that you want something more personalised, you can request to be paired with an older student mentor or even to move to a different type of dorm. Any questions?"

Mostly, Joshua just felt overwhelmed by new information. "Why do you keep calling me Tatham?" he asked after a moment.

"It's just the more formal option." Heidi shrugged. "If you don't like it, I can call you Jessica?"

"Uh ..." He looked around nervously. "I do have a name I'd prefer, but ..."

"Why don't you tell everyone?" Heidi asked gesturing at the now gathered girls. "We can all say what we'd like to be called. So, I'm Heidi Sitwell. As your prefect, I'd prefer Miss Sitwell or ma'am to my face, but I'm sure you'll shorten it to just Sitwell or give me a nickname when I can't hear. Last year, my girls decided on Sitbad, please come up with something better than that, thank you."

There were a couple of giggles and Heidi met them with a smile. As they went around the circle, Joshua got more nervous. He had to come clean, as soon as possible, but it wasn't an option while his mum was in the dorm. There had to be a way to get his gender marker changed through the university, he just had no idea how and hadn't dared to look it up until he was actually here. The bit where they'd put him in an all girls dorm hadn't registered as an issue until he'd arrived.

Namgung was explaining that while her name was actually Jeong-Hui English speakers butchered it so badly she'd chosen to go by 'Cherry' while in the UK, when Mrs Tatham descended.

"That's everything unloaded, Jessie," she squawked. "I'll let you unpack it, so you know where everything is." Mrs Tatham pulled her son into a very unwelcome hug. "I love you. Call every week or I'll be forced to visit with a hairbrush in my handbag."

"Yes, mum," Joshua mumbled. "Love you too. I'll be fine."

"Of course you will," Mrs Tatham said. "And once they've sorted out that little mix-up with your test results I'm sure you'll find a bratty boy you can train up like I did my Stu."

"Muuuum, I'm not here to date," Joshua complained.

"Just keep an open mind to the possibility, dear." With a final kiss to Joshua's cheek, Mrs Tatham sailed out of the building to everyone's relief.

"Mix-up with your test results?" Cherry asked.

Joshua shrugged. "According to the test I'm a Brat. According to my mum I have to be a Tamer. I told her I'd requested a reassessment, but it might take a while to come through."

Heidi raised her eyebrow sharply. "Do you often lie to your mother?"

"Don't worry, I don't intend to lie to you, ma'am," Joshua told her. "There's just reality and the way my mum perceives things and when they don't align it's safer to pretend they do." He hunched up again, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie. "I guess I can tell you the name I want to go by, now she's gone. It's, uh, it's Joshua. He/him."

"You're..." Heidi wasn't entirely sure how to react. "You requested an all girls dorm?"

"My mum insisted," Joshua said, looking down guiltily. "But if it's an issue, I can move to a mixed dorm and ... I don't know what I'll tell her, but that's my problem."

Heidi took a deep breath. "Do you want to stay here? No wrong answers."

Joshua shook his head. "You seem nice and all, but it's just going to remind me I don't fit."

Heidi smiled at him. "All boys or mixed? I'll let the faculty know there was a mistake made assigning you here and request a transfer."

He was stunned. "That easy?"

"This early everyone's still settling. It won't be very disruptive to pop you in a spare room in someone else's dorm. And if you're worried about another prefect not being as accepting, well, I know there's one mixed gender dorm run by a transwoman and a boy's dorm run by her boyfriend who's already got one trans kid in there. I can see if either of them have space for you."

That was beyond anything he could have hoped for. Joshua nodded. "I'd prefer boys. I want to live as me, y'know. Even if my mum doesn't know."

"I'll make those calls."

Chapter Text

Lamb leaned on the back of the sofa and blew on the back of Aaron's ear. He swatted in vaguely the direction of Lamb's head, not taking his eyes off the video game he was playing.

"Where's Warner?" Lamb asked.

"Wondering why we got a visit from your mentor's brat after you with a hairbrush before term even starts," Warner said from approximately two inches behind him. He put his hand on Lamb's back as he started to rise. "No, stay right there while I call. I like the view and whatever you've done, you should face the music."

"I come over to visit my dear old friends and this is the welcome I get?" Lamb asked, affecting betrayal.

"Consider yourself lucky I'm not greeting you with a hard spanking, Reuben," Warner warned. "Given the present you left in my suitcase when I left Beaton."

Aaron paused his game and twisted round on the sofa to smirk at them both. "You paddled him for that over the summer last year," he reminded his Top. "Losing your memory in your old age."

The three of them had met at Beaton College, Warner had been assigned as their upper sixth mentor while they were in the lower. Only Tops and the occasional overachieving Bottom mentored the younger students there, so they had to double up to give every lower sixth someone who could dish out a crisp caning when they stepped out of line. Aaron was the one Warner had fallen in love with though, so when they followed him to Bratford a year later, the two lovebirds had gone into three room accommodation with Warner's mentor and Cyril Warner was officially listed as Aaron Doherty's Top.

Lamb had entered the lottery of random assignment and was bound for a currently four Fresher all boys dorm. He had, with self-awareness and no shame, listed himself as needing close oversight, strict rules and frequent discipline, so they'd assigned him a mentor too.

Indira Chaudhri, fourth year, didn't have a spare bed in her three roomer for him. Though he wouldn't mind sharing. She was kind of hot, all cheekbones, reminder swats and insults. The other two rooms were claimed by her girlfriend, Eleanor Soaper - a softer caretaker type who did shit like scold him for not wearing a coat and hadn't threatened him with anything harsher than a wooden spoon - and, just one year older than him, their other mentoree, the soft-spoken Leon Marshall. He hadn't really tried anything yet and wanting him to was why Lamb had specifically targeted him before skipping out on orientation.

Warner tapped his shoulder, then offered his phone. "He wants to speak directly to you."

Lamb took it and tried to sound as casual as possible as he said, "Hi, Marshall. How's it hanging? Some hunter you are, I've been waiting for you to even try to find me all day."

'It' being the poster Lamb had rigged up above Marshall's door to roll down and hopefully startle him next time he tried to go into his room. A film from a couple of years ago, Red, White and Royal Blue. The marketing had leaned heavily into the British/American both switches theme, but Lamb had preferred the version with the slightly bulkier Henry tipped over Alex's knee, dark grey trousers pulled down to display a pair of Union Jack briefs and the American lifting a paddle. The other version just flipped them, so there were Stars and Stripes briefs and a lap cane.

"Nice of you to provide a visual indication of precisely what you want me to do in retaliation, Lamb," Marshall said, with light amusement. "And if you want me to track you down next time, I'll require a signed scene negotiation, list of limits and a sync to your TATL app. I'm only human and there's a whole lot of campus you could've been hiding in. Sometimes you catch your prey by waiting patiently for it to return."

"Yes, sir," Lamb said immediately. "That's a negotiation I'd be very happy to engage in. Definitely one of my all time top fantasies, trying to dodge a guy half my size with a digital target telling him exactly where to find me."

"It's only accurate to around a hundred metres." His voice went quieter with a little thread of interest. "Ever seen a weasel catch a rabbit, Lamb. Look it up while you make your way back to your dorm, I want you thinking about how that little creature can slip right inside a rabbit's burrow and wring the life out of it while it's sleeping. You have ten minutes to get to your dorm before I upgrade your punishment. If you're at Warner's, you'd better run." Marshall hung up.

Lamb stood up and handed Warner back his phone. "Gotta dash, I have a hot date with a weasel who just threatened to strangle me in my sleep. And is lurking in my room."

Aaron snorted. "You have the weirdest taste. I heard some teachers talking last year about how there was a noticeable dip in uppers bullying the lowers because you drew fire so well."

He blew his best friend a kiss. "Kinks: humiliation, degradation, exhibition, etc. There wasn't shit they could do to me that I didn't thoroughly enjoy. And it was very funny seeing them all lined up at assembly for the cane when they were caught holding me down in the showers. Since that was entirely my idea." Lamb smiled in fond reminiscence.

Warner gave him a hard swat. "There's a club in town here where you can get that without breaking any rules. I'll take you there sometime soon. As I recall, I caned you for that one, knowing exactly where the blame really lay."

Lamb winced at that part of the memory. "You have no power over me anymore, Cy. There's a whole damn CNC club who are always eager to welcome new Bottoms. They've got a meet and greet next weekend. If I want to live my slutty slutty dreams, this is the best place to."

He got a harder swat. "Come crying to me when it all goes tits up, Reuben. They're going to be a whole lot more serious about aftercare and prior consent. I'll protect your right to get railed the way you like best, but when you get in trouble because you haven't done your homework, it's my knee you'll end up sitting on so I can supervise you."

Aaron grinned. "And if you're good Cy might share our weed stash with you."

"Tsk tsk." Lamb shook his head. "Better not let your mentor know you're breaking actual laws."

Warner shrugged. "She's the one who sells me it. It's just pain relief. You try getting a strapping from two different teachers in the same day and tell me you aren't interested in alternative medication too."

Lamb glanced at his phone for the time and compared it to the call's timestamp. "That's about enough time gone that I have no hope of getting back within ten. Love you both, do as many things I wouldn't as possible, that should keep you out of trouble."

He opened the door to his dorm nine minutes later, three minutes over the limit. There was no sign of Marshall the Weasel.

Flick waved him over to the kitchen area and introduced his conversation partner. "Joshua Tatham, Reuben Lamb. Now, I hope you boys can get along, since Joshua will be joining us. He's a Bottom, like you and Albert."

Joshua wasn't passing as a boy, but Lamb didn't comment on that, just stuck out his hand for him to shake. "Glad to have an ally against the overwhelming number of Tops in this household." He winked. "Nice to meet you, Josh, I have a smart mouth, terrible attitude and hard bottom. I intend to be a terrible influence, but I'll put you over my knee if I absolutely have to."

The boy didn't take his hand, just looked at him in confusion.

Lamb took the swat Flick gave him with a grin.

"Overwhelming? It's been three Tops to two Brats with Dare popping in to play for either side depending on his mood." Flick shook his head. "And Lamb is an immature brat who's the least likely to spank of all of us."

"False," Lamb said, still smirking. "I'm an immature brat with prior qualifications from Beaton. Not a full Switch, a few sadistic urges at most, but I passed the test to allow me to act as a mentor to the lower sixth last year despite that big fat Bottom on all my records." He lowered his hand since Joshua wasn't going to take it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think there's a weasel lurking in my bedroom with malicious intent."

As he left them with a silly little bow, he heard Flick sigh. "I warned you. That's Lamb. If he's too much, just let me know."

"Brat," Joshua muttered, not inaccurately. "Heidi said ..."

What Heidi said was lost as Lamb's door shut behind him. Marshall blinked lazily at him from the armchair.

"You're very late, Lamb."

"Who'd you have to suck off to get the code to my door?"

"Dare. Didn't ask where he got it. But since he's just as willing to get on his knees, I can guess." Marshall looked him over. "I can't tell if you're testing limits so you know what you can expect from us later or if you're genuinely flirting."

Lamb shrugged. "Bit of both. You guys are the ones who'll be dealing with me the most, it's sensible to find out what that's going to be like. And my goal is to collect a few friends with benefits type Tops. Text me for a quickie to blow off steam sort of deal. You're convenient."

"Indira?" Marshall guessed, like he was so clever for working out it wasn't going to be the Top who wanted to force feed him nourishing home cooked meals and probably made aeroplane noises with the spoon. And it was anyone's guess if that description was Elly or Flick.

"You've already read my official file," Lamb guessed right back. "Analysed my kink list to see if we'd be compatible. I did the same for you and if you didn't think we were, we'd be having this conversation in the main room with an implement."

Marshall stretched, his t-shirt riding up to give Lamb a glimpse of torso and more importantly his belt. "Like I said, signed negotiated contract first. I'm going to give you the discipline you've been testing for and a list of things I'd like to do to you which you can sign or modify and give back. I'm just surprised you're after a predator when you're not prey."

"I can be prey," Lamb told him, walking to his side confidently. "What I get off on isn't really incompatible with any Top style besides soft and service. Building anticipation as you close in, the catch where you overwhelm and trap me publicly, then the bit I'll really enjoy where you claim your reward as I fail to fight you off."

"Sounds good," Marshall said simply. "I can book a room in the exhibition gallery that you could choose to hide in, if you want it to be public and immediate. Somewhere where everyone has consented to see that sort of thing."

Definitely the sort of place Lamb would have to visit as soon as possible. He wasn't after anything more stable than hook-ups, so knowing where to go to maybe find one was essential.

"You don't mind that we wouldn't be exclusive?" Lamb checked. "I have a self-imposed challenge to take a new cock or strap on at least once a week. Variety is the spice of life or whatever.

Marshall grabbed his wrist and pulled him off balance and over his knee. "I don't, but Indira is very serious about us being here for an education first, if your extracurriculars affect that at all, you're going to find yourself in a whole new world of pain. I'm happy to scene with you occasionally, but my butt is as much hers as yours is." He fumbled at little undoing Lamb's drop seat, but was soon patting his bottom over his underwear. "That means you do all your classwork, keep up with chores and if your bottom is red when she inspects it before compulsory dorm or apartment family dinner every day, you're not going out that night."

Lamb wished there had been space in Warner and Aaron's accommodation for him, but then again, he had specifically requested strict. It was his own fault if he got it.

"Those inspections will start with classes," Marshall added. "And she'll want an explanation if you are pink. Last year, I showed up to inspection with cane welts once and she had me on a punishment mat during dinner for a full month." He landed the first full smack. Medium strength and intensity, a measured choice with a calmness that suggested he was capable of much worse. "Decide not to show up and I'll be sent to fetch you, which, if you sign that list, will be my pleasure."

He started the spanking proper, more of those steady smacks, not varying in intensity at all and repeated a few times to each spot so it was almost a relief when he moved on. At least until he ran out of fresh areas to move to and each set began falling on already tender flesh.

Most of Lamb's prior experience had been with a cane, bending over for a handful of stripes. This didn't hurt as much, but it just kept going. He'd lost track of how many individual smacks he'd received before the first round had finished, so he had no idea of the count when he stopped being able to resist the urge to squirm.

"That's it, Reuben," Marshall told him, still as soft and mild sounding as ever. "It's very natural to fight. What sheep wouldn't when the wolf lunges?"

"I thought you were a little weasel." Lamb twisted, trying to mess with Marshall's aim.

Marshall responded by focusing his attention on the crease where bottom met thigh. "I am whatever is best suited to taking you down, Reuben. You did something silly, but harmless, to provoke me and then you skipped orientation so I couldn't find you. This is what I do to bratty boys. You'll see how different it is if you choose to be my fresh meat."

Lamb gave one last squirm before settling down limply in apparent surrender. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, insincerely.

"No, you aren't, Reuben," Marshall said firmly. "I think your carry implement will do nicely for that upgrade I promised if you were late. Hand it over."

"Ah." Lamb shifted. "I, um, didn't get one. Because I was curious what would happen if I didn't."

"Your poor bottom," Marshall said without any sympathy. "I'm going to use mine this time and then we're going to tell Indira. I suspect you're going to be wearing that drop seat down all through Freshers Week."

Not so bad, Lamb didn't mind showing off. Kind of loved it actually.

Marshall's small paddle came down on Lamb's already sore bottom and he yelped, eyes going wide. That had no right to hurt that much! By any rational measure, the cane hurt more, but Lamb felt tears prickle behind his eyes in a way a caning hadn't inspired since, like, his first week at Beaton.

"There we are," Marshall said, more smug than supportive. "Let's get you all the way to real surrender and then you can have a nice cuddle. How does that sound, Ru?"

"You evil, sadistic, bastard," Lamb grumbled, then yelped again as Marshall brought the paddle back into play.

"Yeah, we're going to get on just fine."

Chapter Text

"And just where do you think you're going, Keen?"

"Flick, be serious," Henry laughed and reached for the door.

Nicholas 'Flick' Friedwald, his dorm prefect, caught his wrist. "It's nearly dinner time, Keen, so, I ask again, where are you going?"

"Why do you want to know? I'll be back by curfew. Beyond that, none of your business." Henry yanked his hand free.

"You can either tell me now, so I have a starting point if you do miss curfew, or you can download the TATL app," Flick said firmly, casually leaning on the door. He had nearly a foot and approximately a ton on Henry, a size matched only by his bastardry.

"I dunno exactly, some guys I met at orientation want to scope out the local scene. We'll probably try a few places. Compare prices, crowds, whatever." At orientation was a lie. He'd met Willows and the rest a few days earlier. To meet anyone at orientation, he'd have needed to attend the stupid waste of time.

The interrogation was ridiculous. Henry had spent his gap year travelling across Europe with friends and even when he'd lived at home his parents had never been fussed. As long as he was home before eight thirty and he had his phone, they didn't need more than an 'out with mates'. And it was barely enforced.

"App it is then." Flick held out his hand. "Unlock your phone and give it to me."

Henry considered that demand for all of two seconds. "Um. No. Go fuck yourself."

Flick raised an eyebrow, still lounging against the door. "Then you aren't going anywhere, Keen. And with that attitude, you'll be lucky not to get a mouthful of soap."

"My phone is my private property and you don't have the right to imprison me." Henry folded his arms. "I could call the cops, tell them you're holding me hostage and trying to steal my phone and I wouldn't even be lying."

"Check the contract you signed when you enrolled at Bratford," Flick advised. "There's a very long and thorough list of disciplinary techniques you've agreed to and grounding and confiscation of private property are two of them. So, last chance before I change my mind about letting you go and send you to your room instead. Hand over your phone."

Henry had agreed to corporal punishment. He'd have been less offended if Flick had just smacked his arse. Still, he tapped in his phone's code, doing his best to hide it and resolving to change the password the moment he was out of Flick's sight, then handed it over.

"I'm just going to download TATL," Flick assured him, like that wasn't more than bad enough. "And sync it to my own phone. That will allow me to track your location." He raised his voice slightly, to make sure the other four kids in the dorm could hear. "I'm going to require that from each of my boys and, if you give me as much trouble about it as Keen just did, you'll be getting a smacked bottom to go with it."

"How come he doesn't then?" a boy with his hair dyed sky blue asked. Henry hadn't paid enough attention when they'd all been introduced to recall his name.

"He will," Flick said casually, pulling out his own phone and fiddling with them both.

"That's bullshit," Henry told him. "You can't spank me for having an issue with you putting a damn tracker on my phone."

Flick kept talking to the kid with blue hair. "Lamb, if you look in the drawer next to the sink, you should find a packet of wet wipes branded Articulate. Could you bring them here, please?" He finished what he was doing with the phones and handed Henry's back to him.

Henry gave Lamb a glare as he brought the wipes over. Suck up. "What are those for?" Henry asked, hoping his hunch was incorrect.

It wasn't.

"I'm going to wash your mouth out, Keen," Flick informed him. "And then I'm going to pull your trousers down and spank your bottom before allowing you to go on this pub crawl. I'm not going to require complete sobriety, though some sports clubs and other societies have that as a requirement for joining, but there will be no drinking on a school night. Even if you don't have a morning class. Keep the alcohol for Friday and Saturday evenings and holidays, please."

The rest of his dorm mates having given up pretending not to watch, Henry decided not to argue. He was an adult and a Top, he could make his own choices.

"Mouth open nice and wide, Keen."

Henry obeyed and gagged at the foul taste as a wipe was shoved in and rubbed roughly against his tongue.

"You'll find rude language won't be tolerated at Bratford," Flick told everyone. "A mouth scrubbing is the least you can expect for that sort of disrespect. And the teachers won't be as lenient as I am being right now." He removed the wipe, but the taste lingered. "I expect that will make it difficult to judge the quality of the beverages, Keen, and I hope it will encourage you to drink moderately."

He took hold of Henry's upper arm and marched him back into the centre of the sitting area. The Articulate wipe went into the bin, the rest of the packet was handed to Lamb to be returned to the drawer and Flick sat down on one of the three sofas. He pulled Henry to stand between his legs and began undoing his jeans.

The temptation was to pull away, but Henry resisted. He still didn't entirely think it was fair, but he had to admit that if someone had told him to go fuck himself, he'd spank them too. It was a relief when it was only his trousers that were lowered, leaving him the modesty of his underwear. Not a mercy he'd expected.

"Is this your first time?" Flick asked. "No shame if it is."

"No," Henry said, but didn't elaborate. It was none of their business that his mate Gavin had set himself up as the leader of their tour of Europe, since they were all planning on attending lifestyle universities, and given Henry his first and only punishment spanking in a hotel room in Prague after he'd broken a lamp while messing around with another friend. Not in the sexual sense.

Flick turned him to the side and guided him to bend over his left knee, chest supported by the sofa. "When I tell you to do something, any of you, I expect it to be done immediately, without argument or complaint. Otherwise you'll find yourself in precisely this position, with the rest of the dorm watching." His hand swung down, catching Henry's thigh right across the line of his briefs, half bare skin. Then it landed again, higher, again, further left, again, again, again.

Henry shifted uncomfortably, more embarrassed by being watched than the burn of the punishment. It was strikingly (pun not intended, but he'd pretend it was if asked) similar to the spanking Gavin had given him, which made it a lot easier to shrug off.

Flick didn't press the point, stopping after what felt like less than he'd got in Prague. "Okay, Keen. Up you get. If you aren't back before curfew we'll be doing this again, but your bottom will be bare and I'll be finishing it up with a hairbrush."

"Got it," Keen said, quickly yanking his jeans back on.

"Got it, sir."

He'd have to spank a whole lot harder if he wanted Henry to call him that.

Sadie held the outfit up against herself in front of the mirror in her room and frowned. No, it definitely wasn't right for her and buying it had been a mistake. Even if she did meet someone who was interested the odds were pretty much nil that it would magically turn out to fit her.

"Cute," Cherry Namgung said from the doorway. "I'd spank you."

Panicked, Sadie threw the dress as far away from her as she could, the apron fluttering down separately. "It's not for me!"

Heidi cleared her throat, gesturing for all three of the other girls peering into Sadie's room with gleeful expressions to step back. "Miss Burns. You were quite clearly warned about the consequences of ignoring a summons from your bell. Come out at once!"

Sadie stared at the little bell in the corner. "It ... It didn't ring though?"

Spooner giggled.

"Warwick, go pull the string for Burns' room, please," Heidi ordered. "If you're lying to me, Burns, I'll be upgrading your spanking to your carry implement."

The lightweight hairbrush she'd picked out in Spencer and Marks felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket as Sadie waited. Had she really been so caught up in her fantasy that she hadn't heard it?

There was silence.

Heidi frowned and looked over her shoulder to check. "That's enough, Warwick. It seems there is a break in the system." With no apology for disbelieving Sadie, she stepped into the room like she owned it and went to check the bell. "Burns, did you remove the clapper?"

"The what?" Sadie might've been able to guess what that was from context if she hadn't been so flustered.

"The piece inside the bell which makes it ring," Heidi explained. "Since you and I are the only people with the code to your room and the system was working when I tested it at the start of welcome week, before you all arrived."

"I didn't," Sadie said faintly and truthfully, certain she'd be disbelieved.

"Maybe it was that boy from earlier," Spooner suggested. "He was a brat and we all know what they're like."

"Joshua wouldn't have had an opportunity," Sadie snapped. "But you were watching me weirdly closely when I put my code in this morning."

"Be a good maid and bend over for your spanking," Spooner suggested, nodding at the outfit crumpled on the floor. "Those black and white frills will really bring out the pink of your bottom."

"That. Is. Enough!" Heidi declared. "If anyone would like to confess to sabotaging the bell, that would be appreciated, but if not, I don't have enough evidence to discipline anyone for it."

Who the hell was going to confess under those circumstances?

"If something like this happens again, I will line all four of you up for a paddling," Heidi informed them. "Unless the culprit confesses, then or now."

Silence, where no one dared look at her.

"Very well, if that is understood?"

A ragged chorus of 'yes, Miss Sitwell.'

"Now, Spooner, we do not make fun of anyone for having a kink we do not share, please go stand in the corner of the common room, facing the wall, with your hands on the back of your neck."

The other girl glared at Sadie like it was her fault and stormed off to obey.

Heidi raised an eyebrow at Namgung and she took her cue to back off. Warwick already being on the other side of the room.

"I thought you looked kinda hot," Cherry told Sadie as she left. Which really didn't help.

"Now, Burns," Heidi said, sharp again. "I was summoning you for a conversation in my study that we still need to have. With me."

Sadie trailed out of her room, wondering if she could get the lock code changed, but not daring to ask. They'd just peek over her shoulder at the new one anyway.

The dorm prefect's dorm was laid out differently from the other rooms with an outer office that meant discipline could be given in private somewhere that wasn't the student's room. Sadie had thought it was a bit redundant, but now, entering the study, she found just being in there heightened her sense of being in trouble, her bottom tingling at the sight of the cane, paddle and strap hanging on the wall.

Heidi indicated a spot in front of the desk. "Stand there, please."

There was a chair just to her left, but Sadie obediently remained on her feet. "I really didn't do anything to the bell, miss," she said.

A slip of pink paper was set on the desk in front of her.

"Orientation," Heidi said, tucking a second pink slip back into the drawer. "I've already filled in Tatham's with his extenuating circumstances, so he won't receive a punishment during the catch-up assembly tomorrow. You, however, I'm not sure what to write, since I believed you were at orientation today."

Sadie took a deep breath, totally different trouble. Great. "I panicked and left. Someone mistook me for a brat and was going to ... to y'know for not being in the right uniform. It wasn't fair and I didn't want to be ... Um."

"Spanked?" Heidi suggested. "You thought that your bottom would be bared in front of everyone and you would be spanked to tears?"

There was no answering that, Sadie stared at her feet, her face burning.

"That is precisely the consequence of leaving, Burns," Heidi informed her. "Tomorrow's catch-up orientation will begin with every student who hasn't gotten their slip signed for exemption going up on stage to receive a spanking. And I don't believe your reason is good enough to get you out of trouble. You should have explained and shown your student card. They made a mistake, you made a much bigger one." She waited, like she expected Sadie to have an argument.

Sadie wished she did. All she could say was a weak, "It's my first time."

Heidi softened a little. "There is an alternative. I can spank you now and fill out that slip saying that you've been punished already. That way you don't have to deal with everyone watching. It's your choice. Me now or up on stage tomorrow."

"You now, ma'am," Sadie said immediately, the only correct choice.

She smiled, pulled the chair next to Sadie out and sat down. "Bend over my lap, Burns. You may keep your clothes on this time, but you'll find most prefects and faculty prefer to spank bare, mainly because half the students are brats who aren't necessarily staying on their best behaviour just because they've been punished already today. If you don't check visually, you might end up going too hard on an already sore bottom."

Sadie leaned forward awkwardly, trying to avoid touching Heidi's lap.

"No," Heidi told her, then tugged Sadie off balance, her stomach landing on the prefect's knees. "When you are told to bend over a lap, you lay across it like this, Burns. You brace your hands against the floor or hold on to the spanker's leg, your feet might be on the floor or, with a taller disciplinarian, dangling. A sofa or bed might be available to rest your torso on. What's important is getting your bottom where it can be reached most easily."

She shifted her right knee higher, pushing Sadie's bottom into the air and making her clutch at a leg of the chair for stability. Then Heidi touched her bottom, spreading her hand over one cheek. Sadie couldn't imagine how much worse it would be if she wasn't fully clothed.

"See, now I can lift my hand," Heidi matched word to action. "And there's a clear arc between where I start the swing and your bottom." She demonstrated by moving her hand slowly through the space, then placed it gently on Sadie's behind again. "I expect you'll become very familiar with this position, from both sides, during your time here.

"As a Tamer, there is an expectation that you might take in hand any Brat who makes the mistake of disrespecting you, once you have the basic licence. It's up to you where you draw the line, but if you say overhear a passing brat make a comment about how ugly your hair is, no one would think you were out of line for giving that brat a few smacks on the bottom for it. Least of all that brat

"Elsewhere, discipline is usually restricted to those the Bottom has specifically given permission to use it, but here it's more of an it takes a village attitude to taming. More practical than shackling each brat to a tamer twenty four seven. No one will mistake you for a brat once you've given a few spankings and found your confidence. Now, Burns, are you ready?"

Heidi's hand had remained resting on Sadie's bottom throughout her little lecture and she'd adjusted to the feeling, relaxing even.

"I think so, ma'am," Sadie said quietly, tensing up the moment the strangely comforting touch went away. "I'm..." She decided not to say what she was thinking, didn't voice her fear that more people would assume she was a Bottom and she'd be spanked by a stranger. Not that Heidi was really someone she knew well enough for this. "I'm ready."

She heard the crack of hand across her buttocks and jumped at the sound alone, surprised to find it didn't hurt much. Sadly that didn't last, the light sting building with each new smack. Sadie had been determined to take it stoically, but all too soon she was shifting and gasping with each swat, astonished by how painful it had become.

Heidi began scolding at that moment, not letting up on the spanking as she did so. "I told you that orientation was both important and compulsory and you chose to ignore my advice. An embarrassing misunderstanding that was in no way your fault is not something you should back down from. In that moment, you should have raised your chin, looked at them with your toppiest expression and informed them that you were in the correct uniform for your designation. If that didn't work, you should have asked for me and I would've done that for you. Running away is what a brat in trouble does, not a confident young lady. It's your nature, Burns, stop questioning your instincts."

Sadie blinked back tears. A proper Top wouldn't be so emotional over a spanking. Heidi had made it clear that discipline would happen to both brats and tamers, but that it would be a lot less frequent for the Tops. Sadie hadn't made it past the first real day of term and there was still the rest of the week before classes started. None of the other girls in her dorm had earned a punishment yet.

"I'm being harsh with you, because I know you can do this," Heidi said, more gently. Her hand stopped rising and falling, but she rubbed Sadie's sore bottom in soothing circles. "Dealing with brats takes a serious strength of will. Run away at the first sign of resistance or because you're scared or embarrassed and they'll walk all over you. Your test came back with a very clear Tamer result, otherwise they'd have recommended you to an alternative university in the Ford group, one that focuses on your speciality. You're at Bratford because this is what you're going to be best at. Honestly, I was just as nervous when I started."

That was difficult to believe, which gave Sadie hope she might be able to get to a point where someone thought the same about her.

"You took that very well for your first time, Burns," Heidi's tone had shifted to outright praise and her hand up to rub Sadie's back. "Some of the Tops I've had to spank have given me worse tantrums than the Brats. Remember you can ask me anything. Any concerns you have, I'm the one to bring them to, unless they're about me, in which case you want the head prefect for this block of dorms. Get up whenever you're ready, Burns, and I'll sign that slip so you won't be punished again tomorrow."

Sadie lay there for a few more minutes, trying to work up the courage to go out and face her dormmates who had to have heard at least the smacks through the door. Hopefully they wouldn't say anything, she knew she wouldn't if she'd overheard one of them getting it. Maybe she should just bolt for her room and hide. That seemed sensible.

If not particularly Toppy.

Chapter Text

Joshua bit the head off a dino nugget angrily and tried not to look at Lamb. The occupants of the dorm, minus Keen, had been joined by nearly as many older students and Flick had been aided by a girl named Elly in cooking a truly astonishing amount of food for them all. And hindered by a boy everyone called Dare who had drawn a truly terrifying amount of swats from the older Tops.

It was all a bit terrifying. And new. And despite being the absolute bottom of the hierarchy, Joshua hadn't been swatted once. Even the addition of Indira's household and whatever the hell Dare was supposed to be hadn't netted him worse than a warning to stay out of the kitchen. Like he was too fragile to take it.

Lamb shifted in the corner. "Can I please come back to the table before my food gets cold?"

Indira tapped her fork a couple of times as she considered. "Yes, but you're keeping that red bottom bare and I'm putting a punishment mat down for you." She stood up, going to the kitchen drawer nearest the table and flipping through some brightly coloured things that looked a bit like silicone baking trays for making very strangely shaped cupcakes. The one she pulled out was a vivid blue and was quickly tied onto the seat of Lamb's chair. "You may sit."

He shuffled out of the corner, hobbled by his underwear and sat down. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You're welcome, Ru. Whenever you need me to spank you through and out of a tantrum, I'll do my best to be there. But this is the second time you've been punished today. Let's try to keep that number down."

"Yes, ma'am."

Indira gave him a suspicious look. "Whatever you're plotting, don't."

He looked wounded, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest. "Moi? Plot? Never, ma'am. I have been thoroughly chastened at your hand and wouldn't dream of causing any more trouble for at least ten minutes."

Joshua snorted with laughter and choked on a mouthful of mashed potato. Flick rushed to pat his back firmly.

"Eat more slowly, Joshua," he scolded lightly.

That was the final straw. With a determined movement, Joshua scooped up a forkful of mash and catapulted it across the table at Elly, scoring a slam dunk right into her cleavage.

There was a tense silence.

Then Dare laughed. Only one exhale and quietly, but Indira still smacked his thigh. Marshall, on her other side, snickered at that and got a matching swat.

"Joshua." Elly's tone was lethal. "What on Earth was that about?"

Joshua shrugged moodily. "I thought it would be funny. It was."

"I see." Elly sounded deeply disappointed, which made Joshua's stomach squirm.

He hung his head, staring at another dinosaur shaped nugget and feeling like it was giving him a disapproving look too.

Then Flick ruffled his hair. "I'm going to grab a shirt for her, Josh, then we'll do something about that bratty cry for attention, hm? A well spanked bottom and you'll be ready to be a good little boy again."

Yeah, that was worse. Joshua had had plenty of experience with an embarrassing parent and didn't like that being the dynamic he was expected to want here.

The table was silent until Flick returned with a t-shirt that was way too small to be his. "Elly, I'm really sorry about Joshua's behaviour. Do you want to deal with him yourself?"

"If he's okay with that. Yes." Elly pulled off her shirt without any embarrassment, then reached for her bra. Joshua looked away quickly, not daring to raise his eyes until he saw her feet join Flick's next to him.

"Well, Josh?" Flick asked gently. "Do you think the person you threw food at should be the one to spank you or should I do it? Your bum is going to be stinging either way, because that was very very naughty of you."

"Elly," Joshua muttered. Barely managing not to add because she does Mummy and Little stuff and still manages not to talk down to me. Which was apparently completely outside Flick's skill set.

Elly went and sat down on the sofa.

"Okay, Joshua," Flick said, like he was teaching nursery. "I want you to go to her and apologise, nicely, please."

"Shut up!" Joshua yelled. "I'm not fucking five!" He took a deep breath and tried to lower his volume. "My actual mother treats me like that and I don't want it here too, okay? You aren't even treating Lamb like that!"

Another awful silence.

Flick's expression crumpled, then he turned and walked away, shutting his office door firmly behind him.

Dare sighed. "I'd better ..." He followed Flick, giving Joshua a sharp glare on his way.

Indira took over. "That is something you should have said earlier and politer, Joshua," she said, eerily calm. "Can you articulate more specifically what you don't like?"

No, he couldn't. Joshua tried anyway. "I just want to be treated like an adult for a change, okay? I'm used to be seen as a - a spoiled baby."

"Okay, and how do you want to be treated?" Indira asked, still unphased.

Joshua shrugged again, more helplessly. "Like you do Lamb would be a nice start."

Her eyebrow raised. "If you wanted me to spank you, you shouldn't have bratted at Elly. And Flick's dimunatives are textbook for dealing with a brat. Lamb was also naughty and needed to be spanked to get him back to being my good little boy. So, excluding a complete shift in the way we're taught to tame, what do you want?"

He shrugged. "I ... I'm not sorry, Elly, okay. So, I guess you'll have to make me be."

Indira's eyebrow went higher. "Believe me, boy, she was intending to spank you already. All you've achieved is convincing me it should be bare. Elly, what do you think?"

Elly finally spoke. "Joshua, your responses were completely inappropriate. We do not throw food and we do not scream and shout. Come here and present your bare bottom for a spanking, immediately." Her scolding tone was just as much teacher of small children as Flick, but the actual things she was saying changed how he felt about it completely.

Joshua didn't have any words, but he knew the right actions. It seemed like the distance between the table and sofa had shrunk and he crossed it to her quickly. The next part was harder, his hands shaking too much to manage the button on his jeans. He wanted to obey. Wanted them out of the way so he could really feel it. He'd messed up.

After a moment, Elly slapped his hand away and undid them herself. Then she yanked the jeans down to his mid-thigh, along with his underwear. Joshua gasped and tried to cover himself, while she pulled a footrest closer, putting it just to the left of her legs, flush against the sofa.

Elly patted her knee. "Bend over and hold on tight to that footstool, it's on wheels, but it'll support your upper body weight."

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he obeyed, sort of glad it was his face those at the table were watching, but only because he didn't want them staring at his backside.

"Elly, please, or Miss Soaper. How are you feeling?" she asked, her hand rubbing his lower back like she wanted to ease him into the idea of touching.

Joshua didn't know how to answer. "Awful? Flick ... He ... I'm not used to ... to threats being followed through on." If he had a penny for every time his mum had made an offhand comment about a hairbrush and a pound for every time she'd actually used it, he still wouldn't have one pound. 

"Flick running away isn't on you, Joshua," Indira said, a little softer. "I wouldn't be surprised if we hear Dare disciplining him for it a little later." Her tone went sharp again. "And if we don't, I'm going in there and doing it myself. He knows better than to walk away from a distressed Bottom, no matter how many other Tops there are in the room."

Joshua lifted his head. "That's not fair, I hurt him!"

"You were a brat," Elly corrected, moving the rubbing lower, onto his bottom. "And Flick's always found it easier to discipline other Tops."

That didn't entirely make sense, so Joshua changed the subject back, "I guess I'm not good at being a brat yet, Miss Soaper. I want to learn. Uh, would ... would you teach me a lesson, please?"

Elly made a soft noise of realisation. "Oh, honey, is that your style? Do you want to be a naughty little boy called into the headmistress's office or to the front of the class?"

Judging by the heat in his stomach...

"Yes, miss," Joshua said, surprised by how eager he was. "But isn't that just what it's like here?"

"To an extent," Elly allowed. "But, I can just imagine you in a school uniform, tie askew, mud on your knees, looking up at me and pouting when I tell you to hold out your hand for a switching. How does that sound?"

Joshua swallowed. "Uh, scarily good? That's so weird."

Elly patted his bottom pointedly. "There are roleplayer clubs here solely dedicated to the school theme. You'll have to come up with something a lot stranger before you're even mildly unusual. And just now you were acting like a perfect brat, asking for some nice, hard attention to your backside."

Joshua squirmed, but nodded. "Please, miss."

The crack of her palm across his bottom made him worry he'd enjoy it too much for it to be effective, but that theory had been disproven by the time he lost count.

She spanked at a rate that made focusing on how many impossible. Quicker than Joshua would've thought possible, she'd covered his bottom in stinging smacks and was going for a second round at the same speed.

Nearly as soon as Elly abruptly moved down to smack the undercurve of his bottom and the top of his thighs, Joshua started to kick, drumming against the side of the footrest.

He groaned aloud when, satisfied with the burn she'd ingrained into that area, she moved back up to the main curve of his bottom.

"Something to say, sweetie?" Elly asked, her tone completely at odds with the merciless way she was roasting his backside.

"I'm sorry!" he yelped.

Her hand continued to snap down. "That's a very quick change in tune, Joshua. Did something persuade you?"

Obviously! Her hard hand on his poor, tender bottom

"You did, miss!" He couldn't give a fuck about his modesty or dignity, just the way his bottom had to be a shade of red to match Lamb's.

To his massive relief, she stopped. "That's good, Joshua, but your little tantrum deserves its own punishment. Marshall, would you fetch me a wooden spoon, please?"

Joshua's heart and stomach sank. He was already so sore.

Marshall obeyed, fetching a spoon from a jar Flick kept in the kitchen that Joshua had thought was excessive. Knowing they were intended for naughty bottoms made him think they were even more excessive.

Then he saw a word had been carved into the bowl and, apparently, Marshall had decided the appropriate choice was a simple BRAT. Joshua couldn't argue with it, just duck his head and clench up as Elly took it with a polite thanks. He was a brat and testing that out had been his main motivation.

"Five more with this and you'll have paid your dues," Elly told him. "I expect you'll end up over a lot of laps, honey, and if you take it as well as you just did for me, you're going to be very popular." She rested the spoon on his sit spots. Ominous. "A brat who acts like a good boy during a spanking is rare. You are allowed to make a fuss, you know. That's not punishable."

Joshua had thought he was making a lot of fuss already. He was kicking and whimpering after all. Lamb had taken his much more stoically, but apparently that was because he was used to the cane. Joshua couldn't imagine.

The spoon leaving his bottom was even more ominous.

Chapter Text

"Lamb, Reuben."

Sadie looked up at the name. She had been avoiding watching the on stage spankings, unable to stop imagining herself in that position, but as the blue haired guy she'd met the day before sauntered across, she couldn't look away.

Next to her, the guy who'd transferred out of Heidi's dorm almost as soon as he'd arrived slumped lower in his chair and groaned softly. Joshua had recognised her at the start of orientation and shyly asked if he could sit with her. Sadie had politely said yes.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, after checking there weren't any teachers or prefects too close. She didn't want to find out the consequences of not paying attention.

"Lamb's my new dormmate," Joshua said quietly back. "Total brat. He got it twice yesterday."

Up on stage, Lamb had bent over the knee of the disciplinarian, who had introduced himself as the head of the lifestyle studies department, Dr Drubber. Lamb hadn't been kidding about Sadie's name fitting right in. There were less among the students, but still plenty of puns and unconcealed references.

Drubber efficiently undid Lamb's drop seat and hauled his underwear up into a painful looking wedgie, before starting a quickfire round of smacks to the bared skin. It echoed disconcertingly around the hall.

"I bumped into him yesterday," Sadie said, not mentioning where specifically. "He was ... nice, I guess. Way more familiar with all this, but he didn't make me feel bad about not knowing."

There was the sound of a scuffle and they both looked round. A prefect had a boy, a Top based on his lack of drop seat, by the ear and was pulling him down the aisles towards the stage.

"I have a signed slip!" the boy protested. "It's in my pocket, if you'd just let me -"

The prefect paused, but didn't let go. "Okay, let's see it."

The boy, face flushed red under a mess of ginger hair, put his hand in his back pocket, then the other, then tried to twist around to look on the floor.

It was Sadie who spotted it, lying crumpled a few feet back and was out of her seat to pick it up and offer it to the prefect.

She gave her a nod of thanks and let go of the boy, who rubbed his ear with a scowl. "Satisfied?"

"Who's your dorm prefect?" the other prefect, whose hair was as red as the boy's, asked. "Because this says Flick and I know he wouldn't leave off an explanation. Why aren't you being punished today?"

The boy scowled deeper at her. "Because I got it yesterday," he grumbled quietly.

"Uh huh. And if I was to call Flick and ask precisely what you got it for yesterday and if you were exempt from going over Drubber's knee today, what would he say?"

He shrugged. "Probably he'd be annoyed you wasted his time."

She smiled sunnily and pulled out her phone. "Oh, no, my boyfriend appreciates a check in, even if your story turns out to be true. Sit down, Keen, while I go outside to make this call."

Keen stared after her in dismay, then slumped down in the seat next to Sadie. "Thanks for trying to help," he muttered. "Dug my own grave too deep though."

Sadie gave him what she hoped was a sympathetic smile.

Joshua leaned over towards them both. "What's Flick going to say?"

"That brats should keep their noses out of my business unless they want a smack," Keen hissed at him.

"Hey!" Sadie, sat between them, gave them each a stern look. "Tatham, you don't need to know. Keen, that is a disproportionate threat."

Both boys settled back in their chairs with a quiet huff.

"He's going to say I forged his signature and should be up on stage," Keen said in a subdued tone after a long moment of no sound but the smack of hand against Lamb's bottom.

"I'm sorry," Joshua said, just as subdued.

"Yeah, well, you're a Bottom. It's different for you," Keen told him. "You don't need to intimidate." He groaned softly and stood up as he saw the prefect returning to the hall. "RIP my dignity, arse and chance of getting a single brat who witnesses this to ever respect me."

The prefect snapped her fingers at him as she swept by and Keen reluctantly followed her up to the stage where Lamb's punishment was ending. Drubber gave Lamb a quick hug and said something quietly to him that got a head shake in response.

"Good lad," Drubber said at a normal volume. "Go sit down and let that sore bottom keep you focused, okay?"

As though he'd totally forgotten about his lowered drop seat, Lamb jumped down from the stage rather than use the stairs and flung himself into the chair next to Joshua on the third row.

"This is Keen," the prefect was saying, loudly so everyone could hear. "He would've been up here earlier, but he forged his dorm prefect's signature. Which I've been assured he'll be getting another spanking for when he gets home."

Drubber raised an eyebrow at Keen. "Come here, boy."

Keen obeyed with a stiff spine, reaching down to unbutton his trousers, but Drubber caught his wrists.

"No, since you were so reluctant to accept what's coming to you, I'll do that." He undid the button and zip, but guided Keen down over his knee, balancing him expertly first try, before baring his bottom with a quick tug. Drubber was sitting side on to the audience, so they had a clear view of the backside he was spanking. Keen was already shifting and very obviously clenched.

Sadie looked away, feeling embarrassed about watching when he clearly didn't want anyone to be. Lamb grinned at her past Joshua. "You two already acquainted?"

"I was assigned to the same dorm as her for like three minutes," Joshua told him. "Those three minutes were wonderful, because I hadn't met you yet."

Lamb smirked. "Love you too. Can we expect a rendition of the spanked bottom dance from you when they reach the T's?"

Joshua winced. "Thankfully, no. Elly really let me have it last night, I think the imprint of that wooden spoon is still there. I can definitely feel it where I'm sitting."

Sadie suddenly felt a lot better about the punishment she'd had from Heidi. Sure, none of the other girls in her dorm had been spanked yesterday, but apparently all three of the other Freshers she'd talked to today had. One of them twice. And that included another Top.

Up on stage there was a miserable yelp from Keen. He wasn't taking it worse than the majority of the others, but after Lamb's blasé attitude, it did seem that way.

Lamb winced sympathetically. "And Marshall says I make bad choices." He paused. "Okay, he's right about that, but I own up to my mistakes and don't try very hard to get out of being disciplined for them. Hopefully Keen works out it's better for his backside to bend over and take it right away or he's going to be squirming as much as I intend to this year."

Sadie gave him a politely baffled look. "You intend to get in trouble a lot?"

"Brat," he reminded her. "Safe bet to assume any brat you encounter is intending to be trouble, even the cute ones like Tatham. But besides that, I also intend to bottom a lot. Spanking isn't the only way to knock my attitude out and I know for a fact I'm more tolerable company when I'm getting laid regularly."

"Oh," Sadie said faintly. "Um, you aren't, uh ... This isn't...?"

"Grow some claws first, Burns," Lamb advised. "I'm not hitting on you until I'm confident you can hit back harder. No, I'm just aiming to be your friend, okay? And sort of mentor. You're both new to this, you could do with an experienced guide."

"What if we don't want you to be that guide?" Joshua asked.

"My goal is to teach you both enough attitude that you can tell me to piss off and stop interfering. Which ... yeah, you're not ready to do."

That was an incomprehensible goal, but Sadie decided not to argue. Probably proving his point.

Lamb took them to the lifestyle building first.

It was the biggest on campus, given every student had to do at least one supplementary lifestyle module a term. He wasn't entirely sure how it worked for anyone who wasn't a Bottom with prior qualifications doing a Bratting degree, but he knew he was pretty much free to do whatever in that time slot. A module from another subject, one of the supplementaries offered for exactly his case like a language or sport or he could do what he had and just take another Bratting topic.

The lifestyle building was where he'd done summer classes for the last three summers and he'd explored rather more than permitted, so he was familiar with the warren of themed 'classrooms' on the upper floors, above the more traditional lecture halls. Most of them were assigned to the many societies and clubs that Bratford hosted, but the occasional class was held up there, usually practicals.

They were informally known as the labs, though very few had any resemblance to a place of scientific study.

Lamb opened a few doors at random, watching Joshua and Sadie's astonished reactions with as much joy as the kid who got to introduce his friends to the proverbial candy store.

It didn't take them long to find somewhere that was occupied.

There were two other students in the corridor, both in brat uniforms, one boy waiting outside the door at the end that was labelled as The Study and one facing the wall with her skirt lifted to display a pink bottom and a sign hanging down her back instructing passersby to contribute.

Joshua reached for the closest door and Lamb caught his wrist. "Not that one." He pointed at a series of symbols stuck onto a magnetic strip on the upper right corner of the door. "An eye crossed out means no observers, that room you're part of the scene or you stay out." He could hear the sound of talking behind the door, but not make out the words. "They wouldn't be happy with us interrupting."

Lamb moved down the corridor, giving the girl a swat as he passed. A couple more rooms were in use, but both with an eye magnet, indicating they were open to observers. He checked the kink warning lists blu tacked to the centre of those doors, both relieved and disappointed by the content.

If this was typical he wasn't going to be spending much time here for his own interest. The exhibition gallery Marshall had mentioned sounded more his style. These rooms were strictly non-sexual only.

The student waiting for the end study approached them with a welcoming smile. "Looking for in anything in particular? Or just randomly exploring Freshers?" he asked, adjusting his blazer to draw attention to a little collection of pinned letter badges. PVBSMJ.

Lamb rolled his eyes. Sure, the V for Versatile was useful, indicating he was a Switch and offering permission to anyone with a basic licence to swat him, Dare had a similar one, but the rest were just excessive.

Ninety percent of third and fourth year Tops were prefects, permitted to swat anyone who stepped out of line regardless of dynamic, so showing that off just made him seem pretentious. B for Brat was superfluous when he had the V. Only brats in blazers needed to display their Switch status.

S&M were good old sadist and masochist, which was TMI in Lamb's opinion. S was close to universal among Tamers and M was only useful when paired with an indication of what implements were enjoyed so they could be avoided.

He had no clue what J meant. Jerk maybe. The guy had that vibe.

Tall, dark haired, smug. Hot, with an attitude like he knew it. Just asking to be bratted at.

"How can you tell we're Freshers?" Joshua asked.

Lamb could've told him, but the prick answered. "Two brats in the correct uniform. Either she's -" He nodded at Sadie. "- a hell of a Top or you're new here." With a suspiciously charming smile he held out his hand for specifically the only Top in the group. "Brandon Birch. President of the Schoolroom Society and very willing to be proven wrong about your capability, ma'am."

Sadie blinked at the guy like he was offering her a loaded gun instead.

With a shit-eating grin, Lamb grabbed Birch's hand and shook it vigorously. "No, you were right, we're total novices. Give us the got our first spankings yesterday explanation."

He heard Sadie gasp softly, confirming his suspicion. She'd been at the catch-up orientation speech, so she hadn't completely gotten away with skipping, but she hadn't been in line for Drubber. Her dorm prefect must've dealt with it privately. Lucky her, Lamb had four Tops who knew he'd been spanked once for skipping and they'd all still refused to sign. Because Marshall claimed his was for the bedroom door desecration. And the other one had been for hitting on Indira. How was he to know she exclusively topped Tops? Who the hell only topped Tops? Bizarre.

Birch sneered at him, which was kinda hot. "The Schoolroom Society is a group of Bottoms who enjoy playing at being students. We're one of the smaller groups on campus, a lot of people who share that fantasy find just attending an institution like this fulfilling enough, but we also match with the Mortarboards - the equivalent group for Tops - for group or solo scenes. Students only in both, obviously. Some sexual, most not. In class it's all real, something you've genuinely done wrong and a punishment for it, with us it's a game instead. Funishment, I call it when I really want to irritate my master."

Lamb met his sneer with a challenge of a smirk. "Naughty. Hitting on Burns when you've got a master at home."

"Bratting for a spanking isn't cheating." Birch jerked his thumb back in the direction of the Study door. "And my master is currently playing with someone else anyway. Look, all the societies will be holding taster sessions this week, before classes really start, if you're interested, come along then." He pulled a pile of fliers out of his robe pocket and handed them one each. "Or you can observe either of the 'classes' going on now. No commitment to join in unless you want to. The cue to be involved is sitting at one of the desks."

Joshua gave Lamb a pleading look.

"I'm not your Top," Lamb told him. "If you want to watch, go watch." Sadie's avoidance of his gaze was just as telling. "Take Burns with you, as moral support. Maybe it'll be her awakening too. I know it's not my thing and I have a few more questions for Birch."

Like if he'd be interested in going somewhere more private.

The two newbies hesitantly went into one of the rooms, leaving them alone.

Birch eyed Lamb speculatively. "You either read the handbook very closely or you're not new to this at all."

Lamb shrugged. "Guilty. Beaton graduate, sir. Acting as tour guide to the wide and varied world of kink."

Birch's tone softened a very little. "Did my ASS levels there too, actually." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Only lower sixth though, they had to ring me and it was decided I wasn't working out after that. They weren't giving up on their canes and I wasn't giving up on enjoying that specific implement. So I had to do my second year at Harrouch, where they favour paddles. A pity, since I liked swinging a cane just as much."

Ringing was an almost myth at Beaton. Lamb had never encountered someone who claimed it had happened to them before, just third hand accounts. Students whose disciplinary needs were unusual enough by Beaton standards that they were sent to the headmaster's office for every offence had to wear a tie with vertical stripes instead of horizontal, a pattern which created rings where the tie went around the neck. Usually that part was hidden by the shirt collar, but ringing was the name that had stuck.

Lamb affected a yawn. "If you get nostalgic -"

He was cut off by the headteacher's office opening to let out a sniffling girl who paused after a few feet to blow a kiss back down the hall at the boy leaning in the doorway. Birch gave her a hard swat when she passed them and she blew him a kiss too.

"Collect your girl," Birch instructed, gesturing at the one standing against the wall. "And if we catch you using the Study for a quickie when you haven't booked it again ..."

"You'll swap who gets to punish who because we're a little less compatible that way round," she finished for him with an eye roll. "And then the time after that you'll swap back again and completely negate the threat." She removed the sign from the girl against the wall and handed it to Birch. "If you put that on me next time, I'll cane you bare in the exhibition gallery." Not a threat. Too flirty.

"Yes, ma'am, but I think I'll put you somewhere with more through traffic. Right next to the library, say. Naomi's bottom is barely pink and I'd like to see yours scarlet."

The girl laughed. "It's a date, Brandy. Just remember to text when you guys next book the office so we know to show up."

"Oh," the boy in the doorway said. "So, you're the reason we keep catching them. I thought they were just using it all the time and we were intruding." He straightened up, adjusting his long robe and mortarboard hat. "That's definitely a caning offence, Birch, come get it."

The girl gave Birch a cheeky wave. "Enjoy yourselves, boys." She let Naomi lean on her as they headed off down the corridor, but left her bottom exposed.

Birch grinned back at the boy in the silly outfit. "Dom, meet this sweet thing awkwardly angling for a spanking. He was just about to tell me his name."

"Reuben Lamb," he told them. "And the question I wanted to ask was if you wanted to cane me, Birch?" How was that for awkward?

Dom laughed. "It's sir or Master Chalk when we're playing, Birch, I'll have to add another for that. And be sure you know what you're asking for, kid."

"He's ex-Beaton," Birch said. "And I just told him how I feel about canes. He knows. You got a limits list on you, Lamb?"

Lamb pulled out his phone and brought up a notes app. "Yeah, but I'm going to show you my reds and oranges only. Anything not on there is an option and, believe me, the amount of time it takes to read my greens and yellows is so much higher."

Chalk came down the hall to read it too, then raised an eyebrow. "There's six things on each, Lamb. This can't be extensive."

In response Lamb swapped over to his green list and started scrolling rapidly through it. He kept scrolling. Then he scrolled some more. Then he reached the end of the apps' word count and had to switch over to his second green list. Then he scrolled through that in the same manner.

"It's extensive," he told them. "Like I said, so much quicker to know what I'm not into. The only supplementary information to those lists is that I don't enjoy genuine discipline, tiny bit of real guilt and I won't get off. A few swats in class isn't hot to me and neither is knowing I've properly screwed up. Which gives you a whole lot of leeway to craft a narrative, as long as I get treated roughly, I'm up for it."

"Ageplay is an orange, but you're okay with a school roleplay?" Birch checked.

"I'm happy to pretend to be a bratty teen caught smoking behind the bike sheds or whatever," Lamb assured him. "I'm not up for sucking on a dummy and watching Postman Pat. All respect intended to those who are, of course. Look, I'm pretty sure I've lost my tour group for as long as that class goes on and Birch has been eyeing me with an itchy palm since I blocked his attempt to flirt with Burns. I'd love to offer up my arse as apology, whether that's just for the cane or anything else you'd like to do to it."

"Fucking hell," Birch muttered and accepted two hard swats from Chalk for it. "Is that usually how you introduce yourself?"

"To Tops, yeah," Lamb admitted. "Best to get the cards on the table before I annoy them into doing something about it, which means immediately."

Birch shook his head. "You can't keep doing that. Save it for nightclubs and society matchmakers."

Lamb stuffed his phone in his pocket. "Sure, whatever. Whole campus full of single Tops who don't mind ..."

"Quiet," Chalk ordered, much less playful sounding, but only because he was back in playing mode. "Birch isn't wrong in general, but we were already negotiating because we were interested, that's the time it's okay to talk like that. Lamb's definitely not the only Fresher who arrived and decided he had to get as much as possible all at once, Brandon. I think a good caning is just what the boy needs to convince him to slow down. Tomorrow, he's going to be confronted with all the society stalls at Freshers Fair and approaching that with a nice sore bottom should be a reminder to only sign up in moderation."

Birch leaned against Chalk and his Top casually adjusted one of Birch's pins, twisting the J around so it was more obviously a cane. "I tried to have a different society every night of the week," Birch confessed with a little laugh. "And even with topping half the time I wasn't recovering between scenes. My poor bottom was sore for a solid month before I tapped out."

Chalk swatted him again. "Before your mentor ordered you to stop and she kept your bottom warm for another month until you got the message, you mean."

"Hypocrisy, plain and simple. How was spanking me more a solution to me being spanked too often?" Birch sniffed haughtily. "But, yeah, I didn't mean I wasn't interested, just that there's a time and place. Your mentor will tell you the same."

Marshall sort of already had and Indira definitely had. Hard. Even Warner had got on his case about homework first. Flick had said something similar to everyone.

"I'm looking for a week of fun before classes start," Lamb told Birch. "Bunch of society taster sessions sounds great and a taste of your ... cane sounds even better."

Chalk patted Birch's bottom. "He is very sweet, Brandy. Reminds me of another bratty little boy who crashed a private party, actually bit me when I dragged him to the office for a caning, then begged to suck me off."

Birch blushed. "I wanted you to do it right there, sir. In front of everyone."

"Mhm, why do you think I made it private? Now, love, I want you to drag this brat to the office by his ear and bend him over the desk for a thrashing while I watch and correct your technique with liberal application of my cane to your backside. Oh, but I still need to punish you for tipping off Naomi and Zoe ..." Chalk took the sign from Birch's hands. "So, when I'm done, you're going right where you put Naomi for the rest of the day and you'll be holding a cane for anyone to use."

Lamb made no attempt to resist when Birch pinched his ear tightly.

"That sounds good to you?" Birch checked in with him.

"Never been greener, sir."

Chapter Text

The three of them were having a late lunch in the cafeteria after a few more eye-opening stops on Lamb's itinerary, when Dare, of all people, slid into the fourth seat at their table.

"So, Joshua," he said, stealing one of Lamb's chips. "When Flick said yesterday that you'd go over that retake you wanted after orientation, how exactly did you understand that? Because he thinks it meant get your bottom home right after orientation finishes or it will get smacked."

Joshua stared at him in horror. "I thought he meant like this afternoon. Lamb offered to give a tour and I figured he wouldn't if that was breaking a rule."

Lamb and Dare both laughed.

"Okay, in this case I thought the same as you," Lamb told him, "but going forward it's a safe bet to assume that I'm either actively breaking a rule or plotting to."

"Retake?" Sadie asked.

"I'm doing my dynamic test again," Joshua explained, not wanting to explain why. It was bad enough that Sadie had met his mum.

"Joshua, give me your phone," Dare ordered.

He pulled it out of his pocket and it was in Dare's hand before Joshua thought to ask, "Why?"

"Unlocked, please. Thank you." Dare opened the app installer and quickly selected one. "I'm putting a tracker on it," he told him. "Wait, you already have TATL? Did Flick or, um, Elly ...?"

Joshua winced. "No, sir. My mum ..."

He frowned. "If none of you kids tell anyone that I know how, I can hack that for you. Revoke her permissions."

"You are literally using the exact same app for the same reason," Lamb pointed out. "What's the issue with Josh's mum doing it?"

Dare placed the phone on the table equidistant between him and Joshua. "Tatham, do I have your consent to use this tracking app so I can find you if you miss curfew, don't show up when you said you would or to check you're not lying about your whereabouts? With the understanding that you can revoke that consent at any time just by asking and that this is normal practice for a mentor relationship. And that the rules it will be used to enforce will either be university wide or negotiable."

Put like that. But ..."Why you and not Flick? He said he would."

"Because I'm his enforcer, when he needs someone to come down hard on his boys," Dare said with a grin. "And once I've made the group, I can give him mod privileges."

"Okay." Joshua shrugged. Wasn't like it was a new idea.

"That's the difference, Lamb," Darius said as he started syncing the app with his own phone. "But maybe I'm wrong and it was just as much Joshua's choice to give his mother that access." They all heard the unsaid 'but I doubt it.'

"Yeah, please, could you take her off?" Joshua said quietly. "I'd appreciate that."

Dare pointedly hid the screen from them as he did whatever it was.

"Can I use that information as blackmail?" Lamb wondered. "Since you don't want the toppier Tops to know."

"Tell them and I'll take a paddle to your backside every night for a week, Lamb," Dare informed him. "Try and use it as leverage and it'll be a fortnight. And, yes, those punishments will stack."

Lamb pouted, but leaned back in his chair, tilting it onto two legs.

"Reuben!" Dare snapped, shifting lanes from playful to serious like it was instinct. "Chair flat. Don't think I won't bare your bottom right here and now."

Sadie squeaked in alarm.

Lamb tilted a little further back.

Joshua kicked the leg of Lamb's chair, unbalancing it and sending him sprawling.

"Joshua Tatham!" Sadie snapped. "Apologise this instant!"

"Sorry, Lamb," Joshua said quickly, his hands dropping to cling onto the sides of his chair in instinctive defence of his bottom.

Dare took a moment to recover too, looking at her in surprise. Then he stood and helped Lamb up, checking him over for injury. "Pick up your chair, Reuben. Joshua, stand."

That seemed like a very bad idea and his fingers weren't uncurling from the chair's seat.

"If I have to ask you a second time, Joshua, I'll be walking you back to Flick's dorm with a pink bottom and a lowered drop seat."

That threat had Joshua on his feet in a heartbeat, hands hovering nervously behind him.

Dare lifted them out of the way, one at a time. "Keep those on the back of your neck. If you'd just let Lamb dig his own grave, you wouldn't be in this position. Bend forward a little, so you're sticking your bottom out. Good boy."

Joshua cringed as he felt the back of his trousers being undone and the change of temperature on his backside.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced? I'm Darius Tafani, final year, Flick's boy, Switch, tamer and brat," Dare said, casually to Sadie.

"Sadie Burns," she said faintly. "Top, um, tamer?"

"Have you administered a spanking before, Sadie Burns?" Dare asked.

She shook her head with an expression of mild panic.

"If you're going to hang out with these two, you're going to need to learn. Fast," Dare told her. "As a tamer, the general attitude is that if you can't control the brats you're with, you shouldn't be with them. They'll become your responsibility whenever there isn't anyone more dominant in the group. You've got the scolding tone down, but you need to back it up. Come here."

Sadie approached, as nervously as if he'd told her he was going to spank her next.

"Joshua has earned a spanking, Burns," Dare told her like it was news. "I want you to give it to him." He stepped out of the way, one hand on Joshua's back pushing slightly to keep him bent forward. "First, you want to bare him, so you can see if you're working with an already sore bottom or not. Now, you can sort of tell through white underwear, but only if it's very fresh or very red. Personally, I always bare before discipline, because I prioritise safety over my brat's modesty. You can either pull the back of his underwear down or gather the fabric up into a wedgie. Through a drop seat the second option gives better access to the undercurve, which is more sensitive and makes a sorry little boy squirm when he sits."

The 'sorry little boy ' was squirming already, hating the frank discussion of how to punish him he was being left out of. Joshua jumped when he felt Sadie's hand in close proximity to his bottom.

"Is this okay?" she asked, very hesitantly.

Joshua shifted. His only thought at the time had been to teach Lamb what would happen if he kept messing about, but in retrospect he really couldn't argue with Dare's assessment that he deserved a spanking for it. If he hadn't interfered and done something to guarantee a bad result, Lamb would be the one leaning over for risking it. And if he had to choose between getting it from Dare or Sadie, that was an easy choice. Dare was about a million times scarier. If only because he seemed unpredictable.

"Yes, ma'am," Joshua said. "And, um, I'd prefer the wedgie, please, if I'm allowed to choose. It's less exposing."

There was a pause, then Joshua whimpered as Sadie yanked his underwear hard up into his crack.

"Good boy, Joshua, asking so nicely for your punishment," Dare said. "And good girl, Burns, he definitely felt how unhappy you are with him there. Okay, you want to keep your hand slightly relaxed, too flat and you'll hurt yourself just as much. Yes, that's good. Now, give him a nice hard smack."

It was agonising, waiting for it to fall after that order. The actual smack wasn't too bad, a blossom of mild pain in one buttcheek.

Sadie gasped like she'd had a revelation. "He's already going pink!"

"Isn't it a lovely colour?" Dare agreed. "It'll fade soon, unless you keep going. And I don't think you need much encouragement to do so, Burns. Feels right, doesn't it? Spanking a naughty boy for being a little brat. Go on, I'll let you know when it's enough this time."

The pause was much shorter the second time, then Sadie's hand was stinging Joshua's bottom over and over. She quickly ran out of clear areas to smack and didn't hesitate to start layering. And she'd paid attention to what Dare had said, giving extra unwelcome attention to Joshua's undercurve. Sadie was more vocal, gasping loudly in delight while Joshua tried to minimise his whines and hisses of pain.

There definitely wasn't any sense of her holding back, once she'd got past the initial reluctance she'd taken to it eagerly. And Joshua had to admit there was something appealing about her obvious excitement, even if it came at the expense of his bottom. What Dare had said about it feeling right might've been aimed at Sadie, but it rang true for Joshua as well. It hadn't been like that with Elly, his annoyance and guilt getting in the way of properly settling into the sensation, but this ...

It was good. In a way it really wasn't intended to be.

"That's enough," Dare said, to Joshua's disappointment. "He was only a little bit naughty."

Sadie was as reluctant to stop as she had been to start. Her hand rubbed gently against his bottom and Joshua pushed back against it instinctively.

She laughed softly. "Do you like that, Josh? How does it feel? Soothing? You look so red and sore. Just, absolutely lovely."

Joshua shook his head. "Rubbing hurts more, ma'am, but a good hurt. That whole thing was a good hurt, honestly."

Dare groaned. "That was supposed to be a punishment, Joshua. I'll let you off, this time, but if you ever feel one of my spankings is a good hurt, let me know and I'll up the intensity, because if I'm doing it, I intend it to be discipline, pure and simple. Burns, nice work. If you weren't punishing a little masochist that would be a textbook mild warning. Joshua, any other important information you've been holding back?"

"I didn't know I was a masochist until literally right now!" Joshua protested. He was slightly horrified to feel quite how wet he was and forced his hips to stay still. Just because his underwear was bunched up right against his clit was not a good enough reason to hump against it. No matter how badly he wanted to.

Fuck, could anyone else tell? He didn't think so, the drop seat was designed to display as little as possible besides the bottom, but the thought that they could made his face heat up and, annoyingly, his stomach clench with even more arousal.

"I'm getting you an M pin," Dare said firmly. "It's only fair to warn anyone who might try and discipline you that they need to go a bit harder. Not a lot, if Elly didn't do it for you, but ..." He let go of his wrists and smacked his palm down sharply across Joshua's backside. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to give you a hand spanking tomorrow, once this has entirely faded, and see if I can turn you on with it."

Joshua's stomach made a bid to escape by fluttering wildly. "W-why?"

"Because if I can that means it's not a suitable implement outside of fun," Dare said calmly. "And I'll find you a hand shaped pin to go with the M. If I can't, that just means you're into Sadie and the M isn't necessary."

"He could just be into you and Burns," Lamb pointed out with unconcealed amusement. "The real test would be if you'd let him go over Drubber's knee in front of everyone and he still got har- uh, was still into it."

Joshua straightened up, trying to avoid looking at Sadie who had abruptly lost all her confidence at Lamb's suggestion and was blushing furiously.

"I think it's the spanking, sir," Joshua said quietly. "Because the idea of you giving me another is really hot and I, um, wasn't attracted to you before you said that."

Dare wasn't offended, just laughed.

"Yeah," Lamb agreed. "He's just this little irritating brat until he starts making threats. Can I have a hand spanking tomorrow to try and turn me on too, sir?"

"If you're good," Dare promised. "If you're naughty, it'll be with my hairbrush. So, I've got my fingers crossed for naughty."

Lamb stood up and swatted Joshua, probably because he felt left out. "Kick anything in my vicinity again, Tatham, and I'll spank you myself. Even if someone else gets there first." Or not.

It absolutely wasn't fair that the three of them were ganging up on him, but Joshua kinda loved it. The focus and attention were really nice, especially because it was for something he'd actually done.

"To make this a real punishment, I think that pink bottom gets to stay visible while we all go appease Flick," Dare said, giving Joshua a nice hard pat on said bottom. "Burns, tag along, I think he'll like you and you might get to watch Lamb get it."

Joshua felt ridiculous as they left the cafeteria, the wind on his bottom. He'd had the feeling that everyone was looking at him before, but this time it was definitely truer. Mostly Freshers he thought, recognising a few faces from the orientation, who were discovering with horror that the drop seats weren't just decorative or for access during a spanking.

He was shocked to discover he was even more turned on by the observation.

Chapter Text

Henry had hesitated to go out again the next evening. Honestly, he hadn't enjoyed it much. The combination of a sore bottom, knowing he had to be back by eleven and the foul taste in his mouth had kinda ruined it. But that wasn't these guys' fault, it was his sadistic bastard of a dorm prefect.

There were six of them, led by a girl named Tricia Willows. She was a Top in her last year and knew all the good spots.

Unfortunately, she also knew Lamb.

Apparently, her mentoree, Warner, and Warner's sub, Doherty, had gone to posh kink school with Lamb.

Thank fuck Indira had forbidden Lamb from joining them, citing a freaking caning the prick needed to recover from.

Henry had questions about what he'd managed to do that was bad enough for the cane before classes even started. There was a whole week of Fresher Fair bullshit before that and he was already impatient.

But given the alternative was staying back at the dorm with a now sulking Lamb, he, along with his only tolerable dormmate, Keller, had joined the expedition to Anonymous.

Keller was the only other Top in Henry's dorm, with the Bottoms, Joshua and Albert, being only slightly less irritating than Lamb. Worst, of course, was Flick.

Spooner's prefect, when they'd picked her up too, hadn't reminded her to take a coat like she was six years old. Flick was just up in everyone's business, fussing about stupid shit, all the time.

He didn't understand why Tricia hadn't become a dorm prefect. She had chosen to shepherd five younger students anyway.

Maybe she'd wanted to hand pick them. The curious and eager to begin.

Henry had met Spooner first, when he'd been loitering outside the orientation hall, pretending he'd been there all along, just in case Flick decided to escort them away like he had to. She'd told him that an older student had told her about something called the 'exhibiton gallery'. Certain they'd been fed a line of bullshit, they'd gone to find out and discovered it exactly as described.

Which was where they'd met Tricia. They had missed the bulk of her scene with Warner, only coming in to see her tending the flogger marks on his back. At that point the fact both were naked had been enough to set the first years giggling.

Tricia, completely comfortable with her lack of clothes, hadn't been impressed with their rudeness, but had answered their questions frankly and calmly, the first person either had encountered who hadn't just told them to wait until classes started to learn.

And she'd offered to introduce them to the stuff their classes wouldn't cover. The dungeons, nightclubs and hotspots that catered to the lifestyle community drawn in around the university like parasitic fish to a whale.

Anonymous was definitely one of those.

A Tuesday evening and it was packed. Mostly older students back from the summer holidays and letting loose during Freshers' Week.

It was too well-lit and Henry was too sober for it to remind him of the places he'd clubbed across Europe. The closest comparison he could find was the bowling alley and arcade near where he'd grown up. That same atmosphere of people waiting their turn at something only briefly or theoretically fun.

"You say friendly, I say he's out to get me," Warner grumbled.

Henry had not been paying enough attention to know who he was talking about, but he nodded sympathetically.

"Good thing you like being got, Cy," Tricia said fondly.

Henry shared a look with Spooner who gave him a shrug, just as lost in frantically ignoring their surroundings to come up with anything to contribute to the conversation.

Anonymous wasn't as loud as most of the bars they'd visited the night before and it didn't serve alcohol. Those places had been lifestyle too, just less obviously. Here the music was quieter so people could hear the sounds of the stuff going on along the walls and fluro vested staff patrolled or stood guard.

"Four's about to come free," Doherty predicted. All he'd cared about since they'd arrived was spots becoming vacant as the numbers counted up towards their tickets.

At the side of the room, a Bottom was being helped out of one of the twelve padded benches. Out not off, because it was designed with a middle segment that closed around the Bottom's waist, trapping them there and blocking all view of their upper half while leaving full access to the lower.

"They still need to clean up," Warner said, pulling Doherty into his lap. "But, yes, your ticket is next, then you'll have as much fun as you can take."

Henry couldn't imagine wanting to be strapped into that device, left exposed and waiting for an unknown person to do whatever was lit up on the permissions list written out on either side of the frame. He also couldn't imagine wanting to be one of those strangers. Still, all twelve spots had been filled since they arrived and there was a queue behind each of the eleven currently active.

Even the one who only had spanking lit up. A Top was leaning next to that frame with one arm in a cast, presumably outsourcing his Bottom's discipline until he could swing a paddle again.

That was the one he kept finding himself staring at. It was the only safe one. The only non-sexual.

The conversation continued, Henry and Spooner continuing to fail to contribute while Doherty squirmed impatiently, until finally the board above the freshly sanitised bench 4 displayed the number 32.

Doherty bounced up, tugging impatiently at Warner's arm. "That's us, come on!"

The Top in the cast made a signal to the watching staff member and the person wielding the paddle took their cue to stop. Behind them the queue quickly dispersed, joining other lines or drifting towards the bar for a mocktail or the sofas and tables to get off their feet. The seats Henry's group had just vacated filled up almost immediately, before they'd even reached bench 4.

All six of them ducked through the curtain that had been drawn around the bench. Doherty handed the correct ticket to the smiling attendant, then began casually stripping.

"I got two tickets because we thought we'd have Lamb," Tricia said. "Anyone want to step up? Cy?"

Warner hesitated, torn, then shook his head. "No, I should be here for Aaron's debut. Keller? Spooner? Keen?"

The three Freshers looked at each other nervously.

"We're Tops," Henry said for them. "Why the fuck would we ...?"

"Language, Keen," Warner warned, jokingly. "And I'm a Top, according to my test. No submissive tendencies at all, which is demonstrably bullshit."

Tricia smacked his arse. "You're missing the vital context that your result is like that because you decided to prove you could game the system and avoid having to wear the brat uniform. And now you know that's only theoretically compulsory, you should really try again."

"Only if you make it an order," Warner shrugged. "My point is that even if you were a pure Top, there's nothing wrong with a bit of curiosity about how the other half lives. Keen, you were watching that spanking very closely. We could limit it to that and lighter. A nice hand spanking to warm —"

Henry didn't hear any more because he'd bolted.

He pushed his way through the crowd and got outside, relieved to get out of there. That just wasn't his ...

There was an amount of logic in Tricia taking them there. Only one step more extreme than the exhibition gallery they'd been fascinated with. And she'd been very clear there was no expectation or requirement that they do anything with anyone, even Doherty. Who had been acting like a kid at Disneyland about the whole thing.

Henry leaned against a wall to catch his breath.

Fucking insane, the whole lot of them.

And maybe he knew that wasn't fair, but he really didn't give a shit.

He wanted to go home, where no one smacked him and the most nudity he had to face was himself in the bathroom mirror.

Except he'd bailed out of there the moment he turned eighteen for so many reasons. Mostly boredom. Thrown himself into following Gav like some sort of Bottom, even though he'd known that plan had an expiration date.

He wanted Flick.

The guy was a prick, but ...

Yeah, that wasn't a but. He was a prick and he had been right. The smart thing to do was to ease into the lifestyle slowly. Tricia knew that there would be some kids who didn't follow that advice and had taken it upon herself to drop them in the deep end with a lifejacket on. Since they were going to jump anyway.

Henry looked around and realised he had no fucking clue where he was in relation to anything he knew. It had gotten dark while they were waiting for Doherty's number to come up and none of the buildings seemed familiar. He suspected he could be standing right next to his dorm and not recognise it.

The time, according to his phone was ten o'clock. Only an hour until campus curfew, which was the same as Flick's. It was very unlikely Doherty would spend more than thirty minutes on the frame, based on the rate of turnover he'd seen with the others. So, the others would be back well before they needed to be.

He could call someone. Flick or... Flick was the only one he'd exchanged numbers with and that hadn't been by choice.

He didn't want to call Flick.

He put his phone away.

If he went back the way he'd come he might bump into the others. And he wasn't sure which way he'd come. If he kept walking, in as straight a line as possible, he'd either reach something he knew or run out of campus to walk through. If the latter, he could follow the edge around until he reached the main entrance, from which he knew the route back to his dorm.

All he had to do was get back before curfew started and he was dragged back.

Henry had to turn a corner almost immediately and stared in disbelief at what he was faced with.

A fucking hedge maze?

Who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick a hedge maze there?

There was a small plaque thanking the 'Hunters' for their donation towards its construction, so apparently some family of weirdos. He didn't bother reading any of the rest of it, it was too dark to really make out the writing and, really, who cared?

Not Henry.

He knew it was a bad idea. There wasn't time, it was dark and it was lame, but also the thought of exploring it tomorrow, maybe with his sort of friends seemed boring. Right then it was dark and mysterious and there was no one to mock it or him. Maybe it would turn out to be a kinky maze, whatever the fuck that meant, and he could be the one to show Keller and Spooner it, all smug that he'd found it first. A normal maze obviously wouldn't be interesting enough, so he had to investigate.

Using his phone as a torch he entered the labyrinth.

Chapter Text

Sadie sat in Lamb's kitchen and had a breakdown.

Flick banished the brats, sending Darius, Albert and a concerned Lamb and Joshua to their rooms. To Sadie's shock they all went. Though she did notice that Dare went to the end prefect room, which was Flick's, since he theoretically didn't actually live there.

"Hot chocolate?" Flick asked, turning on the kettle. "It's a little late for caffeine, but there's so little actual cocoa in the powder that it doesn't count. Or there's Ovaltine if you really want to crash on our sofa?"

Sadie sniffled. "Chocolate, thank you. No milk, please, I'm intolerant. But it's fine with just water. I think?"

Flick smiled at her. "You have permission to enjoy it in whatever form you do. You're not forcing anyone else to have it."

That statement really didn't feel like it was about beverages.

"Josh liked it," Sadie muttered.

"Hot chocolate without milk?"

"Spanking," she clarified. "Me spanking him."

"Yes, that does happen occasionally," Flick said calmly. "Tiny marshmallows?"

Sadie nodded, her throat blocked with all the problems she had with that fact.

Flick brought two mugs over and placed one in front of Sadie. "Let's see. First, no you are not required to attempt a romantic or sexual relationship with him just because of this. Only do so if you want to. Second, he's just as new to all this as you are, don't assume he deliberately deceived you. Third, this is in no way a failure of your capability as a disciplinarian. Any other concerns?"

She shifted in her seat and pretended to focus on using a teaspoon to scoop out a single tiny marshmallow. "Yes? I just ... I don't know." Sadie knew.

"Yesterday, I triggered Joshua by acting too much like his mother," Flick informed her. "Apparently you've met the woman, so you know nothing you admit to could be more embarrassing than that."

Sadie giggled and ate a chocolate soaked marshmallow. "What did you do?"

"I ran away," he admitted. "Which was the wrong choice and I got a strapping from Indira for it. Then I apologised to Joshua and he accepted aftercare from me. Which, if I'm honest, is the part I'm most comfortable with."

That felt like it deserved an equal amount of honesty. "I enjoyed it. Before I knew he did too."

Flick reached out and patted her hand where it lay on the table. "The best tamers are at least a little sadistic. You have to really love spanking naughty bottoms to take on a brat. Dare would be better at this conversation, he knows both sides, but he'd tell you the same. And if you're going to let Joshua and Lamb follow you, I'm a lot happier with that idea knowing you're going to enjoy giving them what they need."

"That's not ..." Sadie was pretty certain she was following Lamb, mainly because she wanted to see what he was going to do next.

"It is," Flick told her firmly. "I could help coach you through it if you wanted. And, uh, if you don't already have a mentor?"

"There's Sitwell ..."

"Your dorm prefect, right? Yeah, normally we're too busy for a proper mentorship, but if you're helping me manage two of my boys in return, I think I can make it work."

Sadie swung her leg as she thought. She'd only just met the guy, but, despite his size, he made her feel at ease. And it would make her choice to hang out with Lamb and Joshua feel more focused. And Flick made hot chocolate the way she liked it without hesitation or disgust. He seemed... steady. Sadie could do with someone who listened. People who really did had been a scarce resource in her life.

"I'd like that, sir," Sadie said.

"No sirs. Unless you're in trouble." Flick patted her hand again. "Or if you like calling me that. Joshua does. While it's a new idea and still a bit taboo at least."

Sadie wished she was having half as much fun as Joshua. Even if she couldn't see the appeal of the submissive side.

"Now, let's release those boys and get them hot chocolates before we have a mutiny on our hands."

"This says he's yours," the Amazon of a girl who'd hauled Henry out of the maze by his ear said to Flick. "I caught him instead of my planned prey. Running around our maze like the stupidest rat in the lab test."

Flick sighed deeply. "It's not private property, Di, and you're supposed to put up signs if you're doing a scene."

Di shoved Henry across the threshold at Flick. "It's after curfew, Friedwald. There shouldn't be anyone around to need warning off. Me and my prey both have prefect privilege, so we're immune. This little brat isn't."

Henry whirled to face her. "I am not a brat!"

Flick popped his hand firmly against his rear. "Nothing you've done so far supports that theory, Keen. Go wait in my office, nose in a corner."

The other four boys were hovering curiously, so Henry pretended he really didn't care as he made his way to the office and slammed the door behind him. The corner thing had to be a fucking joke, so he slouched down in one of the chairs facing the prefect's desk and glared at the display of paddles in ascending size order on the wall. Flick could stick those...

The door opened again

"Keen, I said corner," Flick reminded him tensely. "You can serve your time out now in here or you can have it after your punishment and in the living room. Either way, this first defiance means you'll be serving it with a bare bottom. Your choice if you want your dormmates to see it once it's all sore and red."

Henry shoved his chair back with a scrape against the carpet and flounced into the corner.

Flick was behind him a second later, reaching around to undo his jeans.

"Get the fuck off me!" Henry slapped Flick's hand away.

"Keen. Do you need to safeword?"

Henry closed his eyes, fighting down the urge to keep resisting. He couldn't even say why he was. Just that there was too much something raging inside him to play nice.

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "I obviously just want you to beat the shit out of me." It didn't sound quite as sarcastic as he'd hoped.

"Not a brat my arse," Flick muttered and smacked Henry's hard. "Then I am going to bare your bottom and you are going to spend some time calming down in the corner until you're ready to talk about what's got you behaving like they got your dynamic completely backwards."

"Why the fuck would I want to have any sort of conversation with the abusive bastard who doesn't respect my privacy and is going to beat me?" Henry demanded with very little input from the self-preservation that was screaming at him from the back of his mind.

Flick undid Henry's jeans and he didn't resist it that time, the realisation it was actually what he wanted settling like a boulder in his stomach.

"Because you're shouting very loudly for my help, Keen, and I've got you." Flick slowly pulled Henry's jeans down, taking them all the way to his ankles, but leaving his underwear in place. "I'm going to untie your shoes, take those off and then you're going to step out of your trousers," he told him, in a tone that left no room for argument. "I think it's time you learned that I can make a punishment very unpleasant for you before your bottom gets involved."

Henry leaned his forehead against the wall, finding it refreshingly cool against his burning face, as Flick followed through on that threat. He lifted his feet when instructed, allowing his shoes and trousers to be taken off. But after those were gone he didn't put his foot back down. Instead he kicked back, catching some part of Flick that made the older, taller Top yelp.

There was a long silence after that, Henry tense in every muscle and refusing to look round, his bottom tingling in anticipation.

Flick took hold of the waistband of his pants and pulled those right down as well, but smacked Henry's calf when he lifted a foot to step out of those too. "These stay on here, Keen, unless you'd prefer a pair of ankle cuffs? All this attitude is convincing me of is that you really need a time out."

Henry shook his head. "I'd rather you beat me than that."

"You need to stop calling what I'm going to do a beating. I'm going to give you a spanking for being a naughty boy. And I already asked if you wanted a no conditions tap out and you said you didn't. Let me know if that changes. I know they covered safewords extensively in orientation and your bottom was sore enough that you should have paid attention."

Yeah, Henry had, just in case there had been some sort of quiz about it afterwards.

"You can't spank me again when I already got it earlier," he said confidently.

"Common misconception. There are harder implements where I'd want to give you a longer break between sessions, but there are ways to manage the effect even if I was paddling you on top of a strapping. A hand spanking earlier just means I won't need to give you as long a warm-up before I can lay into you with a paddle. And, Keen, you're still only hovering around a four on my scale, which goes up to fifteen." He gestured at the paddles on the wall. "That will determine which of these you're getting acquainted with. Now, it's late, so I don't want to set a timer that I'll have to start over whenever you get bored of the corner, so the moment you tell me you're ready to talk we can do that."

"I'm ready to talk," Henry lied.

"No, kid, you're not."

There was silence and Henry could hear Flick walk away and sit down at his desk. Type something on a keyboard. Ignore him.

He peeked over his shoulder.

"Eyes front, Keen. I can always pop a blindfold on you to keep you focused."

The confirmation that Flick was still paying him some attention helped, somehow, and he stared at the wall forlornly, trying to work out his own motivations.

He didn't want any spanking, not even another 'light' hand one, but he'd talked and kicked his way into a worse option. Why? He'd had the choice between trying to find his way back to the dorm, Flick probably would've gone easy on him for genuinely getting lost, or deliberately wandering into a goddamn maze and he'd chosen the one that couldn't be interpreted as trying to make curfew. Why? He had freaked out and run off in Anonymous, probably losing the only friends he'd made so far and giving him a reputation for being a coward. Why?

Maybe Flick would be satisfied with Henry just knowing what questions he didn't have answers to. And he could feel the agitation building again, tears prickling his eyes. If he pushed for the spanking as soon as possible, he'd have an excuse to cry. That seemed suddenly essential.

"I'm ready to talk," Henry said sullenly. "Sir."

"Good boy."

Henry cringed. He absolutely was not.

"You can pull your pants back up if that makes you feel safer while we talk," Flick offered. "Then come and sit down, opposite me."

Defiantly, Henry kicked them off instead, leaving them crumpled next to his neatly folded jeans. He bent down to yank his socks off too, feeling ridiculous in just those. All last year, he'd been living in close proximity with his friends, sharing too small hotel rooms to stretch their budget, so his nudity really didn't phase him and he sort of hoped it would be an issue for Flick.

No such luck, Flick ignored his choice completely. "So. Something set you off. Yesterday, it was TATL and you feeling like I was being unreasonable. Now, I can tell you that if Dianne hadn't brought you in, I'd have given you a full half hour after curfew to get back before I went looking. Campus security and any prefects you run into out there won't be so lenient, but unless you're causing other trouble, they'll just escort you here, for me to deal with. Honestly, if you'd been found anywhere else or if you'd thanked Di for helping you find your way back, I'd have let it slide. No punishment. So, can you tell me what made you think wandering into a maze after curfew was a good idea?"

"Wasn't after curfew when I went in," Henry grumbled.

"Right before, then. I know it was after ten because I was checking TATL on the hour, just to make sure you were where you said you'd be and you were still at Anonymous then. It's after dark in September." Flick leaned on the desk. "Did someone take you in there then run off?"

That would be such a good out. Pretend he'd been fooled by some brat who had taken him there for privacy then bolted. It was exactly the sort of thing that was believable and made a fuckton more sense than his reality.

"No. Sir."

Flick nodded. "You're going to need to give me a little more than that, Keen."

"Henry!" Henry burst out. "Call me by my fucking name. This isn't the - the army or some shit."

"You're going to need to give me a little more than that, Henry." Flick still refused to be phased. "I'm giving you carte blanche to say what you need to during this conversation however you can. Otherwise I'd be washing your mouth out for that. But I understand this is difficult and if shouting and swearing make it easier, I'd rather we had the communication than perfect respect."

He took a deep breath. Being given that permission made him uninterested in using it. "I didn't like Anonymous, sir. It felt... cruel, using a Bottom and walking away to leave their care to someone else. I couldn't do it. So I left."

Flick gave him an encouraging smile. "And judging by the frantic call I got from Tricia, you didn't take the time to inform your friends. She was under the impression a joke about you bottoming had seriously upset you and wanted to pass on a message from Warner apologising and offering to let you spank him for it if you wanted. I assured her that I had eyes on you through TATL and would give you space to calm down until curfew forced my hand."

Henry shook his head. "That was part of it, but I really don't want to punish Warner for it." He could only say the next part in a whisper. "I'm not sure I want to punish anyone, sir."

"Permission to give you a hug?" Flick asked and actually waited for Henry's hesitant nod before rounding the desk and wrapping his arms around him. He had the audacity to give great hugs. "If you're questioning your dynamic, there's no shame or anything in retaking the entry test, Henry. And if you're not, there's nothing wrong with being a soft Top. The brats here might eat you alive for a bit, but all you'd have to do is give one severe punishment to the first to take it that little bit too far and they'll learn. But maybe try giving at least one spanking before you throw in the towel."

"I'm doing a degree in Applied Discipline, sir," Henry said, leaning into the hug. "No fucking point if I can't apply discipline."

"You're probably going to kick me again, but I have a suggestion. You should apply for a mentor. This is going to be your third spanking in two days, Henry. I can't keep being your villain."

The pit opened up in Henry's chest again. He shrugged, pulling away from the hug. "Yeah, whatever. I don't think any of those were my fault, so you can just stop giving me unfair punishments any time you like."

"Yesterday, you threatened to call the police rather than use a safeword. Today, you forged my signature on an official discipline slip and missed curfew. Then you resisted, after consenting to a punishment, and kicked me. You are skating on the thinnest ice, Henry, and I'm only holding off on referring you for a Disciplinary Mentor, because I'm giving you leeway for being new to the lifestyle. Apply for a mentor. That is an order."

DMs had only been touched upon during orientation, but that threat still made Henry back down quickly. Even though he had no intention of doing so. "Yes, sir. Can we ... just get the rest over with? I'm tired."

"Of course, Henry. Well done for asking nicely this time."

Henry had hated him calling him Keen, but him using his first name was worse. The real problem wasn't what he said, but how he said it. Patronising fuck.

Flick went and took the fifth paddle along down from the wall. "We'd be doing this with the lightest if you'd complied, Henry."

Henry clenched his fists so he wouldn't flip Flick off.

"Up you get, kid," Flick said softly. "You've had a hell of a day and now I'm going to paddle you for forging my signature and trying to slip that past my girlfriend."

Fuck, he'd basically forgotten about that thing. Henry stood up, tugging at the hem of his shirt for modesty. He should get some longer ones. Or, no, he shouldn't, because this was absolutely the last time he'd be getting spanked. "What about...?"

Flick patted the side of his desk. Part of it had been left clear, even as paperwork and stationery claimed the rest, and Henry realised it was so there was somewhere to bend over. His feet felt like they belonged to someone else as he shuffled forward and let Flick put his hand on his back and gently, but firmly, push him down.

"Getting lost on campus after less than a week here isn't a spanking offence, Henry," Flick told him. "And, like I said, get back within half an hour with a legitimate reason and I'll let it slide.  I'm punishing you for the forgery, which we could have dealt with earlier if you hadn't stayed away all day. Did you eat dinner?"

That was a bizarre enough non sequitur that it took Henry a moment to work it out. "Yeah. We went for Chinese before we headed to Anonymous. Ask Tricia."

"I'll take your word for it," Flick said and that tiny amount of trust, even after all Henry had done, made his chest hurt. "So, just trying to get out of punishment then. Twice. Think carefully about that, Henry, if you'd accepted it, you wouldn't even be in trouble now."

One hand stayed firmly on Henry's back, then the other rose and fell against his arse. To his surprise it didn't contain the paddle.

"Let's get you warmed up, so your bottom is all ready for the paddle," Flick explained.

There was something strangely comforting about it being called a warm up. Outside, with only his blazer as a coat because he'd never gone back to his dorm to collect one after orientation, at night, in England, was a mistake. He'd been shivering when Dianne had found him, but Flick kept the dorms heated above average, like he expected there would be bottoms bared regularly.

Henry didn't think it was all that different from the spanking he'd resented about that stupid app or the humiliating one from the bastard at orientation that he didn't want to think about ever again, but somehow knowing there was worse coming made it feel comforting. The calm before the storm rather than the storm itself. Still his bottom was prickling uncomfortably when Flick paused and ominously picked up the paddle.

"Henry, this, right here, is the attitude I want to see all the time, okay? You're being so good. How do you feel?"

All he could manage in response was a shaky whine. "Hurts."

"It's going to hurt a whole lot more in a moment, kid. Ready?"

The way Flick said either of Henry's names felt condescending and belittling, but somehow kid didn't. That made him feel like he saw exactly what Henry was - a boy with only one extra year on the other Freshers who maybe hadn't been entirely truthful on his dynamic questionnaire and felt completely out of his depth.

"'m scared, sir," Henry admitted, whispering and hoping he wouldn't be heard.

"That's a very understandable reaction," Flick reassured him. "I can't tell you if this is going to be better or worse than your fear, but I do know you're going to get through it. Because you're a brave boy who knows he's getting exactly what he was asking for with that bratty behaviour earlier."

"Not a brat," Henry pouted.

Flick responded with the paddle.

Henry's eyes widened and he kicked his feet against the floor, not quite believing how much more that had hurt than just Flick's hand.

"Not a brat, officially," Flick agreed. "But still a naughty boy who acted out to get a worse punishment. Four more, kid, then you can spend a little time in the living room showing the other boys this sore bum before you're all forgiven and I tuck you into bed."

"Won't have a bum after that," Henry informed him.

"You will, you'll just wish you didn't." As far as threats went, it was said far too fondly, but Henry still squirmed.

He gasped in air when the second hit, then let it out as a whine of protest. The third burned like a brand across his bottom and the fourth knocked the last shreds of resistance out of him.

The fifth felt like a promise.

Henry had fucked up. He'd made bad choices. He'd been waging a one sided war against a guy who was trying to help.

He wasn't entirely certain he wouldn't start again once the post-spanking delusion faded.

He was certain that if he did, Flick would put him right back over his desk and paddle the resistance out of him again.

That didn't entirely feel like a bad outcome.

"Let's get you up," Flick said, helping Henry to his feet. "I'm going to put you in the living room corner for five minutes, then I'll tuck you into bed."

Henry dragged his feet. "I don't want them to see, sir!"

"And I told you that if you resisted corner time in here, you'd do it out there instead. Remind me what you did then?"

He allowed himself to be propelled towards the door. "I kicked you?"

"That's right, kid. So your friends are going to see your bright red bottom and if they mock you about it, they'll find themselves with matching ones standing right next to you."

Henry raised his chin and straightened his spine, pulling as much dominant energy as he could to make him feel invulnerable. He had nothing to be ashamed of, he told himself. Flick should be embarrassed to have spanked him, the other boys should be afraid of the same happening to them. He brushed aside the sense of relief and being taken care of in favour of resentment. He hadn't deserved it, Flick had been unreasonable in his refusal to sign that slip and Henry had just corrected that error.

He stepped through the door completely convinced of his own status as a martyr and sneered at the gawking idiots. Albert genuinely didn't seem to care, not looking up from his book, but the other three were captivated. Joshua was red in the face, sneaking glances at Henry like he was something obscene. Lamb smirked. Keller opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then Flick turned Henry around and swatted him forward into the corner between the prefect's office and the line of dorm rooms and Keller gasped instead.

"Five minutes," Flick said, clicking something because he owned a manual stopwatch like a phone couldn't do that job just fine. "Then it's bedtime, for everyone. And I don't mind if I have to dish out four more bedtime spankings to get you settled. If I see a light on in your room any later than midnight, that's exactly what you'll get. I'd really appreciate it if you lot kept your bratting within daylight hours going forward. So, yeah, midnight lights out."

That was a new and stupid rule, but Flick sounded exhausted enough that no one argued. Even Henry.

Chapter Text

Joshua squeaked.

Dare was definitely firmer in his discipline than Sadie, but there was no denying the fact it was doing it for him too.

"Y-yeah," Joshua managed through the continued onslaught. "Fuck! Test results p-positive. Sir!"

The spanking stopped, but Dare started rubbing Joshua's bottom, making him squirm worse. "And what do you want me to do about that, Tatham? Get you off, let you up or give you something stronger as the antidote?"

That wasn't an easy question to answer. Joshua ached to get off, but he wasn't sure he wanted Dare to be the one to do it. "Let me up?"

"Don't phrase demands as questions," Dare advised, but held his hands clear as Joshua stood up and quickly dealt with the wedgie he'd been given through his drop seat again, spreading his underwear to cover the sore skin, then fastened the flap back up.

"I'm so proud of you," Lamb said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "My little boy, a masochist!"

Sadie sat on the opposite side of their living room, pretending to read a book Flick had lent her, but she hadn't turned a page since Dare had put Joshua over his knee.

Dare reached into his pocket and pulled out two pins, the M and a hand shape as promised. "You're going to want to start carrying your starter implement, Joshua," he warned. "A Top wants to smack you and sees they can't use their hand, they're going to be very disappointed if you don't have an alternative available right away. Especially if you're going to keep wearing those lovely belts."

Those hadn't crossed Joshua's mind as an option until that moment. He felt safer with a belt, like just doing it up the masculine way round might allow him to pass as a man. The idea it might be taken off him and applied to his backside was the exact opposite of comforting.

He picked up his blazer and pulled the little paddle out of the pocket. "The handbook says I'm supposed to carry this at all times."

Dare and Lamb laughed. They seemed to share a sense of humour Joshua didn't always get.

"I'll find you a copy of the annotated handbook," Dare told him. "The version that adds but only if your Top, mentor, teacher or prefect is a hardass to every rule that's more of a suggestion. And you're dealing with Flick."

Joshua blinked. "Flick's a hardass?"

"Flick can be a hardass. If you're a pure Top. Otherwise he's more likely to spoil than spank. Which is where I come in. I'm the threat that if he doesn't deal with his Bottoms and Switches properly, I'll do it for him. And me, I'm definitely a hardass." Dare stood up and spun to show off his impeccable brat uniform with the crop hanging from a loop on his belt, the fastened drop seat and the blazer tailored short so it cut off directly above his bottom. "Including to myself. Because no other tamer has ever been quite good enough." He smirked. "Which is why I'm not mentoring or perfecting. I'm waiting on the school to assign me as a Disciplinary Mentor and there are more tamers who think they're up to that challenge than there are Probationers. Or tamers who can actually manage one."

Lamb looked at Dare like he wanted to be that challenge.

Dare sat back down slowly, watching Lamb. "So, Reuben, you want to come get yours?"

For perhaps the first time, Joshua saw Lamb flustered.

"Nah," Lamb said, poorly affecting casual. "I know you're a sadistic creep and I know my interests tend to align with my partner. So, I already know that would work on me and I want to go to the society fair and find something new and exciting that I haven't tried yet."

Dare blinked slowly. "And the fact I was there when Indira forbade you from going because you got yourself caned last time you were let out without supervision?"

"Irrelevant," Lamb said, certainly. "Brat solidarity. And you count as supervision."

"About half the time, yeah," Dare accepted. "The other half I need supervision."

"Hey, Sadie, wanna come?" Joshua called, getting an immediate glare and nod. "She's a Top. Between her and him, that definitely counts." It wasn't a convincing argument, they knew taking Lamb at all was the rule they'd be breaking and nothing short of Indira herself would be sufficient.

No one pointed that out to the others. They just went.

Freshers Fair was, at best, overwhelming.

Only Lamb's blue hair, visible above most of the crowd's heads, kept Sadie from losing their little group. If they had to sneak any of them in, he was definitely the most conspicuous.

Dare led, darting between stalls with unerring accuracy for the ones that were giving away freebies like pens, sweets or stickers, which he pocketed with a confidence Sadie couldn't match. Every time she felt the need to ask for permission and for most of them didn't have the courage to.

Several of the society representatives knew Dare and those who did almost universally tried to grab him for a couple of swats. Not for any reason Sadie could discern, almost as a casual greeting. He only dodged a few and those ones patted an implement they were carrying as warning about next time.

"You're popular," Lamb commented after a guy at the Historical Roleplay booth dressed in the tightest breeches and high riding boots caught Dare and gave him a handful of snacks with a dainty slipper handed to him by a woman in a Victorian bustle dress. Sadie hesitantly scribbled her name on their sign up sheet while everyone was distracted.

Dare adjusted his blazer. "Keep going as you are, Reuben, you'll get there."

Lamb suddenly perked up, grabbing Joshua's arm and pulling him in the direction of whatever he'd spotted over everyone's heads. Dare offered Sadie his arm like a gentleman escorting a lady to dinner in frigging Downton Abbey or something. She nervously took it and they followed.

Her face heated as she found herself in front of a stall promoting both the Schoolroom Society and the Mortarboards. She had been planning to go to the Mortarboard taster session, probably with a lie to everyone else about it, but they already had the leaflets, there was no reason for Lamb to be tracing his fingers over a cane laid out on their table and trading teasing insults with Birch and the Mortarboard representative.

"Little Brandy Birch," Dare drawled. "Well, that explains the mystery of how Lamb wandered arse first into a cane."

Birch adjusted the cane shaped pin next to his M badge pointedly. "Dare Tafani. That explains that little mystery of why Lamb sassed me so hard throughout."

"Boys," the Mortarboard guy warned. "If I have to take you to the headmaster's office for fighting, I'll use a strap."

Both of them pouted.

Joshua picked up the clipboard from the table and started writing his name down with a pen given out by the Verbal Humiliation Club that had an insult printed on the side. He'd rummaged through the bowl and picked out naughty little brat, even though he hadn't put his name down.

"Not that one, kid," the Mortarboard Top said, taking it gently from him and handing over the other sign up sheet. "You want Schoolroom." He passed over Lamb and clocked Sadie, glancing down like he was ogling her arse. Checking for a drop seat she realised when he held the one he'd taken from Joshua towards her. "Dominic Chalk, head Mortarboard," he introduced himself. "No commitment at this stage, you don't even need to show up to the taster. This is mostly for the university, prove we've got engagement so they allow us to have a stall at Freshers again next year."

She wrote down her name and uni email, ignoring Lamb's knowing look, then handed it back to Chalk.

"But I do hope I see you there, Ms -" Chalk checked what she'd written. "- Burns. If you can handle Darius, I'd love to see what you can do with a group of brats."

"Oh, we're not ... I haven't ..."

Dare rescued her. "She's Flick's mentoree and the boys are his dormies. Technically, I'm babysitting and I can behave myself."

Chalk and Birch raised disbelieving eyebrows in perfect sync.

"Just being in Dare's proximity is a tamer endurance test," Chalk told Sadie.

"You backed down at a threat," Birch said like it was a gotcha. "Which means you're either currently breaking a rule or waiting on consequences."

"Currently breaking," Marshall said from directly behind Lamb. "Ru, please try to hide next time you want me to catch you."

Sadie clutched her pen - an unbranded one she always carried - and felt the sinking sensation of having been found out. It wasn't that she'd thought they'd get away with it exactly, just that the other three - brats all - had been so calm. Like there wasn't really anything wrong with going along. She'd almost thought they were joking about Indira banning Lamb, if she hadn't been there at breakfast.

"Didn't know you'd be here," Lamb said flippantly.

"Helping Di rep the Hunters," Marshall explained, like that needed no further context. "You should sign up for our taster session." He stepped closer to the much taller and broader boy. "If you're up for us tasting you."

"If I do, will you not tell Indira?" Lamb bargained.

"Too late for that, Ru. But I'll rub cream into your bottom once she's finished." Marshall snapped his fingers. "Lamb, Tatham, Tafani, Burns, with me."

Joshua and Sadie jumped to obey as Marshall turned away, confident in them following, but Lamb rolled his eyes and Dare swatted him.

"Hey!" Lamb stared at him with wide, betrayed eyes.

"It's impolite to fight once you've been caught out," Dare told him. "A little resistance to make it worse is fun, but at least find out the sentence before you start haggling."

Utterly unhinged statement in Sadie's opinion, but Lamb nodded like it made perfect sense and they all followed Marshall out of the hall where the fair was being held. He leaned against a bike rack just outside and refused to say anything further until Indira joined them.

Indira swept them with a withering look. "Lamb, turn around and bare your bottom," she ordered, without so much as a hello.

Sadie wanted the ground to swallow her as Lamb calmly undid his drop seat and lowered it to reveal he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Indira's glare flicked to Dare for some reason. "Okay, Joshua, Sadie, can either of you tell me what's wrong with this picture?"

Joshua gulped, but raised his hand hesitantly, waiting for Indira to nod at him before responding. "He's still bruised from, uh, that caning I think? Wasn't that yesterday morning though?"

She ran a fingernail along one of the still pretty distinct cane stripes and Lamb shuddered. "Correct. These were made with a severe implement. Which is why he's under strict orders to give his naughty bottom a break until they're all gone. Which means no taster sessions tomorrow, Lamb, and I banned you from the fair so you wouldn't be tempted to sign up for any. We're going home, where you'll be sitting on your still sore backside and writing lines for me. I think copying the rules handbook would be both educational and very boring. As for the rest of you, enjoy the fair."

"They all knew," Marshall reminded her. "All hanging out at Flick's dorm when we stopped by to remind Lamb at breakfast. Even if they didn't want to snitch, they could've told him he couldn't join them."

"There was some vague idea that having me and Sadie with him was, ah, sufficient supervision to keep Lamb from wandering into any more canes," Dare said. "And I'm pretty sure if we hadn't been around, Birch and Chalk would've given him another dose. Really, we're the heroes here."

It sounded like a defence, but one carefully calculated to make things worse.

Indira's eyes narrowed at him. "Lamb wouldn't give me a name, but those two make sense. I'll have a word with them. And, Tafani, much as Marshall wants to see me give you the thrashing you're always after, I'm just going to report the three of you to Flick."

"No!" Sadie blurted, she could just imagine Flick's expression turning disappointed. She was supposed to make things easier for him, not be another bottom he had to spank less than a day after he'd agreed to mentor her. "Can't you do it, please?"

Joshua shot her a bemused and annoyed look, but didn't argue.

Suddenly, Dare was in front of her, holding her shoulders so she couldn't turn away. "While I'm all for letting Indira have a go at me, she's a hell of a lot tougher than Flick. He'll let us off with at worst a swat, she'll have us bare over the rails right here for a quickie with whatever you're carrying. Fine by me, I play hard and public, but have you even been spanked yet?"

Sadie felt tears rise as she nodded. "Once." In private. Fully clothed. "But he's going to be disappointed," she whispered.

"No, honey, he's going to be proud that you were responsible and insisted on coming along with us. He's going to understand exactly how hard it is to tell on your friends and recognise that Lamb was going to go anyway and you keeping an eye on him was the best option, since he's not available to sit on the boy to make him stay put."

She giggled tearily at that visual image. Lamb was probably the only one of them who Flick wouldn't crush entirely, being built like a rugby player, but he was still half a head shorter than her gentle giant mentor.

Even the honey helped her calm down after that initial panic. Dare said it with warmth, like he was proud of her too. He was confusing. The speed with which he codeswitched was difficult to keep up with and it was impossible to tell if he was going to respond with dry sass or calm dominance. Often it was both. An unmistakable challenge to a Top mixed with light hearted scolding.

"Joshua, however has no excuse," Dare added. 

Indira smiled at Sadie. "If you do get a spanking from me, missy, I'll be informing your mentor anyway. But ignore Marshall, he's a cat who's a little too eager to bring me his catches."

Marshall hopped down from the metal rail he'd perched on, that Sadie was starting to suspect wasn't for bikes at all, and held out his hand for her to shake. "No hard feelings, Burns? You'll understand when you need to threaten a brat with reporting them to their Top."

She shook it a little awkwardly. If Dare was confusing, Marshall was creepy. Something about the way he moved, without any surplus motion that might make him feel more human and less predator. He always took the most direct route and never hesitated. Just, uncanny.

Lamb seemed to like him though, even if he exclusively referred to him as The Weasel.

"Let's get you back to your dorm and sitting uncomfortably," Indira told Lamb, smacking his hand away when he reached back to do his drop seat up again.

"I'll come with," Dare offered. "I'm sure the kids will have more fun without me hovering behind them and I'll have more fun with a Top to bother."

Indira glared at him. "One more bratty comment and I'll stripe you with that crop you carry and leave you in the corner until Flick gets back."

"Promises, promises."

Chapter Text

Henry trailed behind the others as Tricia led them towards the Freshers Fair, his pride grievously wounded. He'd had to explain the whole bailing on them at Anonymous thing again and Tricia had ordered him to show her the remaining bruises from Flick's paddling, then given him a 'top up' with her hand for not communicating and forcing himself to stay when he'd been uncomfortable.

Every time it happened, Henry felt certain there was no recovering his reputation with anyone who had seen it, but even Keller, who'd seen him in the corner last night too, was treating him exactly the same as before Tricia had gone all Top on his arse. That stung even more in a way, like how could they all act like nothing had happened when Henry felt so humiliated?

"Indira!" Tricia squealed.

Henry looked up in horror and there was his Worst Dormmate along with Joshua, Weasel, the girl who had tried to help at orientation and Flick's freaky little boyfriend. And Tricia's friend, Indira, obviously.

Lamb had his arse out, casually showing everyone that he'd been spanked recently. Those flaps were an evil invention and Henry didn't blame Warner for skewing the test just to get out of wearing one. Henry himself hadn't even known about them and he'd still...

It said he was a Top. He was a damn Top.

Indira and Tricia were doing air kisses near each other's cheeks.

"What you going to sign up for, Keen?" Lamb asked. "There isn't a specific brat club, but I'm sure you can find plenty of options to get your bottom paddled."

Without thinking, Henry clenched his fist and moved closer. "Brave words from a guy with his arse hanging out in public."

"Jealous? It's really easy to get a brat uniform, just be honest abou-"

Henry swung a fist at Lamb's smug face.

His wrist was caught and arm twisted up behind his back immediately.

"Bad choice," his captor hissed. "Now sit tight while the Tops debate who gets to punish you for that one, Keen."

"Get the fuck off me, Weasel!" Henry snarled, struggling. The guy was much shorter than him and wiry, but his grip was firm. He stilled at a crisp swat across his backside.

"Not the time to be insulting me, Keen," the guy, who apparently wasn't actually named Weasel said. "Or I won't wait for the debate to conclude before taking your pants down."

Henry's stomach swooped. How the hell had he ended up in line for another spanking?

The debate was raging, but sure enough it was just who not if.

"He's one of Flick's," Darius was saying. "Which means I have proxy authority."

"And he chose to hang out with me," Tricia pointed out. "I'm basically his mentor."

"But not officially," Not Weasel interjected.

"Officially we should report him to Flick," Indira agreed with her pet mustelid.

"Watch," the weasely prick twisting his arm ordered Henry. "They'll keep on like this for a while, then they'll ask you to decide. Personally, I'd beg for Flick, but feel free to make a stupid choice and get bent over by one of us sadists."

Like Flick wasn't the fucking worst of the bunch.

"Marshall," Indira warned, revealing that, yeah, Henry had been an idiot to go by what Lamb called him. "There's no need to be passive aggressive, but you're right. Keen is the one who should decide. Well?"

Nothing passive about that aggression in Henry's opinion.

Henry scowled at her. "Depends who's going to smack Lamb for being rude."

"No one's going to smack Lamb," she informed him. "But he's just earned himself another few pages of handbook to copy out."

"I'm not getting smacked if he isn't," Henry told her.

"You are. Punching is not an appropriate response."

"But whaling on my backside is? Fucking hypocrites."

Indira closed her eyes and visibly counted to ten.

Tricia stepped forward and laid her hand on Henry's shoulder. "And you just talked your way out of the Flick option, Keen. I'm dealing with this, here and now."

Marshall let go of Henry's arm and gave him a shove forward. Tricia used the momentum, firmly pushing him towards a line of upright metal bike racks. It was weird, they'd have been able to fit way more in if they'd just lined them up with the narrow edge facing the wall.

Then Henry was standing in front of it and saw the second lower pipe on the other side and realised they weren't for bikes at all.

"Bend over the rails," Tricia ordered. "Hold on to the lower one for stability."

"Here?" Henry whispered, hyperaware of the people pouring in and out of the hall. It was Freshers Fair, at least half the university had shown up.

"You threw a punch here, little boy," she said sternly. "And clearly the lesson about walking away calmly when you're uncomfortable that you had last night hasn't sunk in, since we have to repeat it, so I'm going to take your trousers down and use your carry implement until you are thoroughly sorry."

Henry shrugged her hand off his shoulder and started to lean forward, but the moment she stepped back to give him room to get positioned, he twisted around and made a break for it.

It was Marshall that caught him again, grabbing his arm and opposite hip and using Henry's own momentum to spin him back around. Then his wrist was yanked high behind him again and Marshall marched him back to the rails and shoved him down over them.

"I can hold you down if you're going to be a brat about it," Marshall warned.

"I was just walking away calmly because I was uncomfortable," Henry spat. He struggled a little, but soon went limp, feeling the metal pressing against his hips and putting his free hand down to grip the lower bar. It wasn't that bad a position, especially with Marshall holding him so securely, but Henry hated that he felt that way. It shouldn't feel nice to be bent over, waiting for a punishment.

"If it's really too much, safeword," Tricia told him. "Otherwise you've just earned yourself a bare bottomed spanking."

Henry squirmed, trying to twist out of Marshall's grip, but didn't say anything. Consent by refusing to withdraw it.

Tricia reached under him to expertly undo his trousers and Henry felt another wave of embarrassment.

"Please, don't," he asked, hating how close to begging he sounded.

"Henry, you know exactly what to say to stop this and that isn't it."

He whimpered as his trousers were pulled down, shifting from foot to foot. Some passersby were definitely looking in his direction, either mildly curious but not enough to stop or horrified first years.

Tricia took hold of the back of his underwear, tugging it up into a painful wedgie like that bastard had at orientation and Henry shivered at the sensation of air on his buttcheeks.

He felt ...

Good. Safer than he ever had, like he'd finally found the place he fit. Like he'd been waiting his whole life for the moment he was pinned over a metal bar waiting for a spanking. So good.

But really resentful about that fact.

Last night Flick had rubbed arnica lotion into his bottom and actually tucked him into bed and he'd almost bitten the guy for making him feel so comfortable. Only the fact his eyes had been drifting shut during the rubbing and his body had felt too heavy to move had prevented it.

With each punishment, it was getting harder to deny.

Lamb was fucking right.

And Henry would do anything to prove him wrong.

He felt Tricia reach into his blazer pocket and pulled out the starter implement he'd got when Flick had dragged them all to Spencer and Marks. At the time Henry had been excited, assuming it was for him to use on others, but that bubble had soon burst.

The ruler tapped against his bottom and he squirmed.

"Henry, as a Top you're going to encounter a lot of brats like Lamb. And you are going to learn to keep your patience with them. If you can't, this isn't the place for you, understood?" Tricia lowered her voice, but he knew everyone could still hear. "And if it's a bratty game you're playing to get this sort of attention, find a different one. Fast. This is going to be the worst punishment you've had so far. No point sugar coating it. And I'm still letting you off lightly because you're new and it's a first offence. But I'm also putting it on your official file, so if you're called up on losing your temper with a brat again, they'll know to break out the strap."

"It wasn't that bad!" Henry protested. "I didn't even touch him!"

The ruler whistled down across his sit spots and he jerked in Marshall's grip. Several of those landed, each feeling like it was burning its way down to the bone.

"You were prevented from touching him," Tricia corrected. "Would you be more willing to accept this as fair if Marshall had permitted you to break the boy's nose?"

Finally guilt caught up to him and Henry went quiet, aside from an ooof or groan with each stroke searing across his backside.

"I want an answer, little boy." Tricia's arm had to be getting tired. Why wasn't she getting tired?

"Yes!" Henry sobbed. Marshall had been right, he should have begged to be handed over to Flick. That paddling hadn't felt like the light option until he experienced a theoretically softer implement wielded with serious intent. "If I had I'd actually feel bad about it!"

"Work that imagination, Keen," Tricia ordered, snapping the ruler down somehow harder. "Because that isn't just a theoretical, that's exactly what you were trying to do. You should be feeling awful about the attempt."

"I aaaaaaaam!" he wailed.

"You feel awful now because your bottom is sore," she said without any sympathy. "Next time I want you to remember this feeling and try it before you make the same mistake. Or at least show a little remorse before it's spanked into you."

"I'm sorry!" Henry gulped, wriggling wildly against Marshall's unwavering grip. "Lamb, I'm so sorry! Please!"

"Isn't that enough?" Lamb asked, sounding nervous for a change. Irritating that he was anxious for Henry though. "He's..."

"No," Tricia said grimly. "Enough is when there's no more fight in him and he surrenders. And then I'm going to give him ten more after that point. You'll see the difference."

Henry whimpered pathetically at that pronouncement. Tears were streaming down his face and he couldn't bear another smack to his scorched bottom. Unfortunately, he wasn't in control of that and more fell anyway.

The safeword rose in his throat, but he choked it back, whining loudly instead. Even if Tricia didn't believe it, Henry knew, rationally, that he deserved it. In a vacuum, as a thought experiment, he would assign a very similar punishment for that offence. He just didn't want to experience it.

He shouldn't have raised his fist then.

He struggled yet again, even knowing it was futile, then slumped, the padded metal bar pressing bruises into his hips from his fight against it. For a moment he just lay there, sobbing helplessly, as the spanking continued. Then, just as abruptly as it had started, it stopped.

Henry didn't try to move. Marshall was still holding him down and he couldn't find the energy.

"Enough," Tricia said, identifying Henry's status, not saying it was over. "Ten more, Keen. You don't have to count, but if it helps, go ahead."

He couldn't think how counting out the blows would help him, so didn't. More bursts of pain, mostly clustered around the junction of butt and thigh. By the end of it, he'd stopped even sobbing, too drained to do more than let the bar support all his weight and allow the tears to fall silently.

There was the slight tug of extra weight as Tricia tucked the ruler back into his blazer pocket. "You'll want to clean and maintain that later, ask Flick to show you how," she advised. "And I know your first instinct is to throw it in the river, but if that goes missing you'll have to replace it with something harsher. How are you feeling?"

Henry cried harder. How the fuck did she think he was feeling?

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Her hand touched his bottom and he flinched away, but then she started rubbing gently. "Well done, kid, you survived your first serious spanking. In public no less."

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything but that she was massaging some of the ache away and how incredible that felt. "I'm sorry, Lamb," he mumbled, thinking maybe he should stay bent over forever so he wouldn't have to face the people who'd just seen him break down over getting his arse handed to him.

"Totally forgiven," Lamb said quickly. "And I'll copy out the whole damn handbook for you, sir. I started it."

That was a very weird reaction. Almost like he'd earned Lamb's respect. Maybe the fact Lamb had exactly zero in the first place had made losing more warp around to having loads.

"Good boys," Tricia said. "Play nice in future, okay? Lamb, keep your opinions about other people's dynamics to your damn self. If Henry had aimed for your arse just then, no one would've protected you."

"I would have," Indira said, "but only because that's a no go area until he's healed up from a recreational caning."

"It's hardly anything!" Lamb whinged, with the air of someone arguing a case he'd lost a hundred times already. "I could take like three times that at Beaton and not expect any sympathy the next day."

"Not for fun," Indira said firmly. "If you earned yourself eighteen with a cane here, where we've actually heard of other implements, I'd rely on that to slow you down on the mischief. This is to keep you enjoying those stripes, because if you had to take a disciplinary spanking on top of it, you wouldn't be happy about them any more, would you?"

Henry could hear the frown in Lamb's tone. "You want me to enjoy them?"

"Of course. you very much liked getting them, right? I want you to keep feeling good about how lovely they look and remember the fun part, not resent Birch or Chalk for making your next spanking feel worse. There's nothing you've done wrong, Ru, taking away spankings wasn't supposed to be a punishment and I want you to go to the society taster sessions you want to attend all healed up and ready for more fun. Because it's very easy for a little soreness to tip the balance and make something you thought you were going to enjoy not feel good."

"Wow," Lamb whispered. "Fuck ... That's ... So not the attitude at Beaton, ma'am. Kinda a new one that there's a type of spanking I'm encouraged to enjoy." A brief pause, then he added, "Yeah. I do really enjoy them and, um, I kinda enjoy showing them off too, ma'am."

Henry felt a stab of jealousy. Or envy. Whichever one was about something he absolutely didn't have. There was no way any stranger looking at Lamb could tell the difference between a caning he'd got for fun and a caning he'd got as discipline, but that didn't matter because he knew which it was.

The thought of having a drop seat and having it lowered to display what he'd just got made something constrict in Henry's chest. So did the idea that if he somehow got a good, fun spanking he could show it off proudly. It ached a little, knowing what he was missing. But how could anyone take him seriously as a disciplinarian if they knew he also received it?

He knew he'd lose a lot of respect for Tricia if he ever saw her get so much as a swat.

Except. In the abstract, he knew that was bullshit. He wasn't delusional enough to think she'd never been spanked, just because he hadn't personally witnessed it.

"Marshall, let him up," Tricia ordered and that comforting pressure vanished from Henry's back immediately.

He groped instinctively with his freed hand, whimpering before he could think.

"I don't think he likes that," Marshall said, almost softly, and the pressure was back, holding his hand and not twisting so hard, making sure he got proper circulation. "Up you get, kid. I'm not letting go, okay?"

Henry rose slowly, keeping his head down, but leaning into Marshall's hands as the other came to rest on his hip.

"Marshall, I told you..." Tricia began, but then there was a smacking sound and she gasped. "Indira!"

"I know Keen is your boy, Patricia," Indira said sternly, "but right now he's looking to my boy for comfort and that's exactly what he's going to get."

Oh. Well, theory tested and shattered. Henry's arse hurt way too much to feel anything but a healthy respect for the woman who'd done it.

He wasn't sure having his hand held tight enough to hurt a little counted as comfort though, but what the hell? It comforted him. It was comfort.

"How do you feel about bondage?" Marshall asked, like that was a perfectly normal question. "Because if this feels good, I reckon you might turn out to be a proper little rope bunny."

"Top," Henry snapped, struggling again.

"Switch," Marshall said back, amused. "If we're sharing our dynamics irrelevantly."

He moved Henry's hand, straightening his arm to relieve the pressure and let the blood flow. He didn't let go though and just holding hands with the creep felt ridiculous. He was still gripping too tight for easy escape. Henry didn't really want to escape.

"Being in bondage sounds pretty fucking Bottom exclusive to me," Henry hissed. He tried to lean down to rescue his trousers, but Marshall held him back.

"You've never had a good service sub worshipping you as he wraps rope around your body," Marshall countered. "But that answer is pretty telling."

Telling? What did it tell?

Marshall abruptly twisted Henry's arm back up and yanked him close into a weird aggressive hug. "So, you've designated me to give aftercare? Or just hold you still so Tricia can do it? Spanking like that and, sorry, fussing isn't optional, but we'll be nice and let you decide what care you'd like. What do you want, little rabbit?"

Him to shut the fuck up about the bondage thing, but what came out of Henry's mouth was, "A retake of the dynamic test?"

Most shockingly, no one laughed.

Chapter Text

The girl giggled again.

Lamb continued to ignore her.

He had a clean bill of health from Indira, a taster session with the CNC club and he wasn't going to let one brat ruin his day.

She shifted closer, one hand almost tracing his bicep. "After this I'm going to walk back to my dorm," she told him. "Slowly. Alone. Taking lots of twisty little back routes. It would be just awful if some big, strong guy I'd only just met followed me. Who knows what he might do?"

"You're making a mistake," Lamb said, unable to let a pass that direct go without clarification.

"Gonna make me regret it?"

At the front of the room, the society leader tapped on the microphone attached to his lectern. "Really great turn out this year. And we didn't even need to kidnap anyone this time."

There were a few nervous laughs.

"I'm Trapper, just the one name, and, yes, that was a joke. We only kidnap people who ask nicely." He snapped his fingers and someone who must've asked nicely was dragged into the room by two other society members and dropped at his feet. They were wearing the brat uniform and bound hand and foot with a ball gag in their mouth. Their eyes darted around the room taking in all the watching students. Then they winked.

"And this is ... Well, it doesn't matter. It'll get a name when it wants one again." Trapper nudged the bound body with a foot. "Call it whatever you want." He looked up, moving on from that subject.

The introduction to and definition of Consensual Non-consent he gave them was pretty textbook. Nothing Lamb didn't know already. Some people wanted to say no and not mean it so there was a system of safewords used instead. Not exactly ground breaking revelations to anyone there. That was in the university handbook, consent form and was covered extensively at orientation. Discipline was one where most people wanted the safety of saying things they didn't mean without being let off the hook. It wasn't much different when sex was brought into the picture.

"Now, I want you to split into groups. Those interested in bottoming on my left -" Trapper gestured to minimise confusion. "- tops on my right, both in the middle. If you're here because you just want to watch, back of the hall, behind the red line. And if you're panicking right now, it's okay, this is just so I can address each group individually and get an idea of ratios."

It didn't surprise Lamb that most of the students drifted to the right. He went left, along with to the girl who'd been hitting on him.

"Tops are that side," she told him.

"I know." Lamb sat down on one of the chairs. "I told you you were making a mistake. I bottom. Exclusively."

Her mouth fell open. "But you're so ..."

"Careful how you end that or some tiny frail Top will hand you your arse." He held out his hand. "Lamb, not interested in following you home."

After a moment she shook it hesitantly. "Wanda, kinda disappointed by that."

Trapper was talking again. "Tops, there's a vetting process before admission to this club. Nothing too demanding, just a half day course on consent. And our policy is zero tolerance. Any of our Bottoms has a complaint about you, no matter how tenuous, you're out." He turned to the other side of the room. "Bottoms, brave of you to show up, I know there're nasty rumours circulating about us. There always are. But we're very serious about consent. Those who aren't don't bother with joining a group celebrating a mutual kink. We intend to look after you, the way you'd like to be. Whether that's ignoring your nos or respecting your reds. All scenes here are Bottom led, which means you bring us your fantasy and we see about getting it and you fulfilled. Or, as the case usually is, filled."

He snapped his fingers again and the two who'd dragged in the unnamed Bottom stepped forward to join him. "There's always a lot of debate among us about how to do a taster session when we can't know what we're working with until you get here. We won't let Tops participate until they've done the course and we won't let Bottoms participate in a scene they didn't contribute to planning. Really the only option is to put on a pre-negotiated demonstration."

There was some shifting, mostly from disappointed looking Tops, though plenty of the Bottoms were unhappy about it as well.

"So, Tops and Switches, if you stick around afterwards, we've booked in enough time that we can get half that course sorted today. Bottoms, if you want to, you can go into the next room where some members of our group will be around to help you draft a fantasy. No commitment, just an exercise to help you work out what you want." Trapper sweep the room with a piercing gaze. "So, if you're getting cold feet, now is the time to leave. If, say, you felt horrified when you saw my pet brought in, walk away. There will be a five minute intermission now, during which there is no shame or consequence if you choose to leave. I'm going to let my pet speak during that time, if you want to ask it questions and be satisfied this is entirely what it wants. If you're still here after that, you're going to see penetrative sex performed on someone who has consented beforehand, but is going to be acting as though they didn't." He crouched down and undid the gag, stroking his pet's hair and murmuring something. The pet nuzzled against his hand, obviously happy.

There was silence, then a Top broke, standing up and storming out. A handful more followed. No one had any questions for the pet. None of the Bottoms and only one Switch left.

Lamb and a lot of the others watched the clock.

The hand clicked round and Trapper stood up. He leaned closer to the microphone. "Those doors are still available to leave by at any time. There are always one or two people who've stuck it out this long because they want to prove they can stomach anything. You, I'm only talking to those people, seriously, fuck off. This isn't an endurance test, this is a game and all the participants are here to have fun." He waited in silence as three more Tops sheepishly left the room. "Now, we can start." Trapper gave them a sudden grin. "Remember, consent has been given very enthusiastically."

Lamb worked it out a second before the two pet handlers moved in to grab Trapper, shoving him forward against the lectern. The taller, blond, grabbed his hair, yanking his head up painfully to force him to look at the audience. The second, a brunette girl, kicked his legs apart, then stripped him easily. Elasticated waistband, so there wasn't any difficulty.

Lamb leaned forward to get a better view. He grinned a little as he spotted the ignored 'pet' watching just as eagerly. That role wasn't his style, he thrived on attention, but he already had plenty of ideas for Bottom led scenes starring himself. In his opinion, the only thing better than one Top taking him apart was several.

Lamb remembered how many times Birch had paused their little scene to check in on his colour and if he still wanted what he'd bloody well asked for. Total mood and momentum killer. If he didn't like it, he'd safeword. That, along with Indira's attitude towards extreme implements for fun, put Birch firmly on the never again list.

Pity. Once he'd got into it, he'd got into it.

With time, maybe Birch could be trained in the way Lamb liked it, but why bother when there were fifty other Tops who could do it better already?

Like the girl across the hall eyeing him, or maybe Wanda next to him, speculatively. She was very much the tiny, frail Top he'd warned Wanda about and Lamb gave her a cheeky wink. He bet she had some tools at her disposal that could show him a very nice time.

And if she wasn't interested, he'd brat at one of those assistants plowing Trapper. Probably the girl, silicone could always go a second round.

Or both. Both was always best.

"History is a very wide topic," said the girl standing at the podium in an outfit obviously inspired by the Golden Age of Piracy. She'd introduced herself as Belle. 'Captain' of the Historical Roleplay Society.

Her trousers were skintight leather, her shirt ruffled and low cut, her boots also skintight leather and laced up to well above the knee. There was a cutlass at her hip, an eye patch shoved up so she could see clearly and a tricorn hat on her head. It had a little skull and crossbones on the front.

"And we are not an academic society, so sorry if that's why you showed up. Really the one thing we -" She gestured to the club representatives lined up behind her in an eclectic selection of costumes. "- have in common is a sense of the theatrical and an enjoyment of fun outfits. Which is why our taster session is dress up. Some of you are already in costume and I love that, but we have options, hopefully enough in each size, and I want you to pick something to change into, then we'll split off into groups by era."

She clapped her hands and a few rails were wheeled in. "Any questions feel free to ask me or my second in command, that's Bas in the Dickensian suit, or really any of the established members who you can distinguish by the silver pin badge. I want this to go calmly, everyone. Unruly behaviour, like shoving or snatching, will get you pulled aside and ordered to stand facing the wall. Bas will be going along, when the rest have chosen, with a crop."

Bas flexed the implement in question with a smirk that told them he was looking forward to that part.

Sadie recognised him as the guy at the Fresher Fair booth who'd cheerfully slippered Darius. She was sort of jealous of how casually Bas flaunted his sadism.

"Okay!" Belle said. "Ready? Go."

Most of those who'd shown up for the taster session lunged forward. Belle and another member dressed in a very low cut medieval style dress fished a few early shovers out by their ears.

Sadie hung back, watching Bas watching for bigger trouble. The sort that might need a bit of muscle. As his eyes drifted over the Freshers, he caught Sadie watching and winked. Flustered, she moved towards the section of rail that was her size and grabbed some fabric pretty much at random.

The majority of the others had already picked, a frenzy that left blank spaces all along the rack, and several were changing, unconcerned with the mixed company. Medieval Boobs directed some of the more obviously nervous to some curtained off changing rooms along the side wall.

There were five Freshers lined up against the back wall now. All of them peeking over their shoulders to look longingly at the rails or with fear at Bas and his crop. Besides a kid right at the end who was definitely looking longingly at the crop.

Sadie started to take the hanger down only to find it grabbed from the other side. Her heart sank as she looked into Spooner's smirk.

"I had that first, brat," Spooner hissed and pulled.

Not true, but no one else had been paying enough attention to dispute it. Sadie let go. There were other costumes and Spooner only wanted that one - a tunic and leggings with a sheathed dagger on a plain belt - because she thought Sadie did.

Spooner overbalanced, yelping as her bottom hit the floor. "She pushed me!" she wailed, as she sprang back up, instinctively rubbing her backside.

Sadie smirked. So, Spooner had earned herself a spanking too. She hoped it was that Heidi had caught her messing with those stupid bells. Everyone thought Sadie had been punished for that, which felt unfair, even though she hadn't been. None of her dormmates believed her about orientation.

A hand landed on Sadie's shoulder. She looked up and back at Bas.

"Maybe apologise instead of smirking," Bas suggested, pushing her roughly towards the line of waiting Freshers. "Unless you want some special attention from me?"

She felt her face heat with embarrassment. "No! She ... she grabbed it from me and pulled. I just let go!"

Bas' hand landed hard against her bottom and Sadie moved faster, only stopping when she was nose to nose with the wall.

"If that's true, why did everyone hear her say she got it first and then that you pushed her?" Bas patted Sadie's bottom again, making her cringe. "It's okay. I like a little girl with attitude. But one more lie and I'll flip your skirt up for your time out."

Sadie swallowed her explanation that Spooner was her dormmate and had been teasing her about her dynamic since the maid uniform incident. Obviously, he thought she was a brat too. Burning with humiliation, she muttered a 'sorry' for him only, mostly meaning that she was sorry she'd misled him by somehow acting like a Bottom again.

"Thank you, darlin'," Bas drawled, accent very questionable Cockney. He seemed really intent on getting his hands on her bottom, giving her another light tap. "But you've earned that special attention. And I really hope you choose a Victoriana outfit after. I'm running that session and, well, I'd love to get to know you better."

He was, Sadie had to admit, attractive. She eyed his arse as he turned back to watch the remaining Freshers for misbehaviour. His trousers were practically painted on, clinging to his curves like he was taunting any Tops in the vicinity with how much of a shame it was that he wasn't bent over for them yet.

Sadie hadn't missed the V badge on his jacket. If he wasn't going to spank her, she thought she'd be very interested in spanking him. She had her safewords, but the thought of using them was even more humiliating than the idea of him pulling up her dress to show everyone her knickers.

Heidi had told her to just act confident, but that was difficult when she wanted it over with, rather than another round of questions and being misunderstood and Spooner lying.

The kid next to her, the one who'd been drooling over Bas, nudged Sadie in the side. "How'd you do that?" they whispered. "He like you."

Sadie shrugged helplessly.

A few minutes later, Bas ran a hand through his artificially messy dark hair and unhooked the crop from his belt again. He started at the other end of the line. Saving Sadie for last. Because he'd decided she was special. That part felt nice, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

Each Fresher got a couple of stripes across the backside, a quick one armed hug and reassurance that they weren't out for good, just had to pick now there were less options.

After the third, Belle drifted over and swatted Bas, for no apparent reason. He jumped, then grinned back at her and leaned down for a kiss.

"Focus on the naughty bottom in front of you, babe," Belle told him. "Then you can take your time with the pretty one."

Sadie shifted in utter mortification as she realised Belle meant her. She considered using a safeword again, yellow to convey important information, just to clarify that she was a Top. Even if he still punished her, she'd save herself the humiliation of him punishing her like a sub.

But he had a Top.

Belle was stunning. She owned the room just by existing in it. Bas wouldn't want a Fresher who'd given a grand total of one spanking. And bratting did seem to come naturally to Sadie. Maybe if she knew more about it ...

Experimented.

The kid next to her lingered in Bas' hug for a few extra moments until it became obvious all his attention was on Sadie, then they flounced off.

Bas stepped up behind her, close enough that she could sense his presence without turning, but far enough that he had room to swing.

"So, going to tell me your name?" Bas asked. He hadn't asked any of the others.

"Sadie?" she squeaked. "And, uh, wait, I just want to ... You should know I'm ... I'm a Switch." It wasn't what she intended to say at the start of the sentence, but it felt like a neat solution once she had.

"I got no problem with that, Sadie," Bas reassured her. He said her name like it was something to be savoured. Like he wished it was longer so he could go on saying it. "I switch myself. Doesn't stop you from being a naughty little girl looking for trouble, does it?"

She swallowed. "No, sir."

Belle, Medieval Boobs and another older student in a fifties style poodle skirt started herding the appropriately dressed students into groups, leaving the Victoriana kids for when Bas was finished with Sadie. She relaxed as Spooner left the room.

"I promised you a little extra, didn't I?" Bas laughed softly, but it didn't feel mocking. "Honestly, it's not because you were particularly naughty. I just really want to play with you a bit. Lift up the back of your skirt, Sadie."

Her breath caught, but she reached back and hesitantly pulled her hem up until it was around her waist. Before orientation and seeing students, Tops and Bottoms alike, bared for punishment, Sadie didn't think she'd have been able. Since then she'd seen enough casual nudity that she could be confident no Top would tolerate her being mocked for it.

Both Heidi and Flick had said it would be a miracle if they got through their first year without being stripped for punishment in public. Dare had laughed and said it would be a miracle if they made it through their first week. At minimum, three fifths of Flick's dorm already had.

She heard the whistle of the crop, then a sting she could hardly believe erupted across her backside. Sadie sucked in a pained breath, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her skirt.

"Oh, is this is your first time with a crop?" Bas said in delight.

It took her a moment to stop panting for air and reply. "First time with an implement."

He rested the crop against her sit spots, partially on the skin unprotected by her underwear. Letting her know where it was going to land. "This is a mean one for a beginner. If I was nicer, I'd offer an alternative of a few swats with my hand." He drew the crop back. "But if we negotiate, and I hope we can, I want you to know exactly what you're signing up for. The sort of Top who -"

Bas' words ended with the descent of the crop, cracking against more of Sadie's bare skin than felt possible. She couldn't stop the soft cry she made in response or the way she pushed up onto her tip toes like it was a danger she could avoid by being a little taller.

"How does that feel?" Bas asked. "Like obviously it hurts, but good or bad hurt?"

Good hurt like how it was for Joshua, Sadie guessed. She didn't think it was like that. It was sort of exciting to have his attention and she liked how obvious his appreciation of her pain was. Bas definitely wasn't having breakdowns into his hot chocolate about his sadism.

She shrugged. "Uh, you liking it makes it a good hurt?"

He swore quietly. "You'd better cover your bottom and pick a nice Victoriana costume for me before I spend the whole session only playing with you."

Sadie let her dress drop and turned around, eyes lowered. Her pulse seemed to strike lightning through the lines on her buttocks. "Is that an order, s-sir?"

Bas tipped her chin up with the end of the crop. "Yes, Sadie. Get dressed for my group. I want to keep you nice and close during the game. Now."

Butterflies invading her stomach, Sadie hurried to the rails. Everyone else had finished choosing, but she quickly found a bustled dress in a dark magenta that would work. She peeked over her shoulder to check Bas was watching, then pointedly hung the dress back up and took the pirate costume next to it.

He was behind her a moment later. "If that's how you want to play it, little brat, okay. Get changed quickly, Belle's group is two doors down when you turn right and if you show up after they've started, don't be surprised if she smacks you for being late." His hand brushed down Sadie's arm, briefly closing around her wrist. "Stick around after the session and I'll show you what happens to brats who ask for orders just so they can break them."

"What's that, sir?" Sadie kicked off her flats and pulled on the deliberately ragged blue and white striped trousers under her dress.

Bas flicked the crop against her thigh, barely stinging through both dress and trousers. "Their little bare bottoms get spanked bright red. Of course, if you're not interested, you can walk away. I'll get the message and leave you alone in future. To be clear, if you want a real spanking, put your nose in a corner when I come through to check. That'll let me know I've got your complete consent for that and nothing more, okay?"

"What if -" Sadie stopped talking, losing her nerve.

"If you want more, after you've experienced what I'd like to do to you, we can have a proper sit down negotiation," he said, guessing her question correctly. "Swap kink lists and all that. But let's take it a step at a time. A little playful discipline."

Sadie slipped her dress off over her head, quickly replacing it with a lace up blouse.

Bas didn't hesitate to help her with it, tugging the laces to just the right side of restrictive and tying a neat bow behind her back. "There's always a bit of a feeding frenzy at the start of term. All the fresh brats being snapped up by older students who see an unspanked bottom as an invitation. Don't settle for me just because I'm the first one to ask. And be wary of offers to mentor or tutor you. Play the field. Take some Tops for a test run rather than leaping into a commitment."

She immediately thought of Flick's offer. But that was different. He knew she was a Top. Bas' advice was for a Bottom who was in danger of being taken advantage of. Not Tops who needed advice from someone more approachable than their current Dorm Prefect.

Sadie made an embarrassingly high yipping sound when the crop cut across her backside without warning.

"Remember this is supposed to be fun," he added, low in her ear. "If you aren't enjoying it, let your partner know."

She rubbed her bum, the stripes he'd given her throbbing in sync. "I don't know if I'd like much more of that."

Bas stepped away, giving her space. "I'll use my hand later, if you're waiting in the corner. Good girl, nice clear communication. Now, run along, before Belle starts her game."

Uncertain if she'd take him up on that offer, Sadie darted for the door. A lot of the Freshers who'd picked Bas' era glared at her jealously.

It was a new feeling, being the centre of that sort of attention. Sadie didn't even mind that the original punishment had been for something she didn't do. She just wanted him to look at her like she was something he wanted.

And if she bottomed for him, the Switch thing wasn't even really a lie.

Her stomach fizzled with maybe fear, maybe excitement. The crop really shouldn't have felt as good as it had. Sadie wasn't into pain, the thought made her feel nothing but dread, but the idea of offering her pain to someone who enjoyed it ...

Maybe she did know if she'd take him up on that offer.

And at the end of the taster session, Sadie quietly hung back and went to stand in the corner.

Chapter Text

"I hope you had good, horrendously dirty, fun," Lamb said when they all sat down for dinner in the cafeteria.

'All' being Flick's dorm, Flick's mentoree, Flick's boyfriend, Flick's 'it's complicated' girlfriend, Tricia's household and Indira's household. Including Marshall. The Freshers had clustered at one end and Henry found himself sitting opposite Lamb right at the end of the bench, as far from any older Tops as possible. That still meant Marshall was only two seats down, next to Sadie. Suspiciously close.

"Did fall in a river," Keller said. "Doubt that's what you meant."

"How'd you manage that?" Joshua asked, toying with his food rather than eating it.

"Pissing about on a boat," Keller said like it was obvious. "Row team. Dunno if they'll let me join after that. Coach has a hell of a spanking arm."

Someone should introduce Keller to complete sentences and the pronoun I.

Lamb yawned loudly. "Boring, Kells. I know what Burns and Tatham were up to, playing school, so ... Alby?"

"Albert," the boy corrected waspishly. "And I was also playing school. Littles Club."

"Sadie w-" Joshua shut up as Sadie gave him a successfully toppy glare.

"I wasn't convinced by the taster," she said. "The Mortarboards don't need new Tops. Maybe when I've learned to handle one brat, I can think about trying again."

Lamb sighed. "Doherty was trying to get a bunch of burly men to hold him down aka joining the rugby team, so Keen, you're my only hope for anything half as salacious as my own taster."

Henry shrugged and lied. "Didn't go to any. I'm not interested in joining clubs. Did my dynamic test retake instead." He had, but then he'd gone along to a taster session to reward himself.

"Oho, and when can we expect the results?" Lamb asked. "Because I can't wait to tell you I told you so when I see that Brat designation."

"In a couple of days and if you don't shut up about that I'll take Marshall's suggestion and spank you about it." Henry's hand went to his blazer pocket pointedly. He was pretty certain Lamb would be proven right, though, and he'd be joining the likes of Marshall and Dare as a Switch. If those guys were supposed to be his role models he was incredibly fucked.

There was a brief silence. Then, Lamb pouted. "If no one's going to ask about my salacious taster session, I guess I won't tell you."

"I don't want to ask because I don't know what salacious means," Henry muttered.

"I don't want to ask because I do know what salacious means," Joshua added. Oh, ladida, he knew big words.

"Cowards!" Lamb speared a piece of scampi with his fork and used it to gesture emphatically. "Mostly it was a long, strict lecture on consent, then the Bottoms split off so the Tops could get an even longer, stricter lecture on consent and we could write our dream journals, but there was a fun bit in the middle where we got to watch the lecturer get railed by his two assistants."

Sadie dropped her fork, spraying lasagne sauce across the table. "What the hell kind of club did you join?"

"Burns," Dare drawled. "This had better wash off or I'll be taking the cost of uniform replacement out of your hide."

She gulped. "Sorry, sir."

His mouth twitched into a half smile. "And then Flick will be after me for it, so let's both hope the catering isn't quite that bad."

"CNC," Lamb said, dragging everyone's attention back. "Consensual Non-consent. Totally Bottom led scene policy, so I'll be submitting a little fantasy scene and hopefully..."

"Wow, so you're a freak freak, Lamb," Henry chuckled. Incredibly not his kink, but figured that Lamb would be into it. He loved being the centre of attention and making a pointless fuss.

Marshall put down his cutlery with a pointed click. "Tafani, Top pickings are not slim enough that you're angling for a spanking from me, so what the fuck? Why are you kicking me?"

"Go smack your boy for kinkshaming," Dare instructed.

"Not my boy, smack him yourself."

Henry gulped and stared at his plate. "I just meant -"

"He wants to be your boy," Dare claimed. "And you stuck around for him for an awfully long time, even though you knew Di was going to make a public example of you for leaving her to manage the Hunters stall at Freshers alone."

Something complicated happened to Henry's stomach. On one hand, the information that the Weasel had got in more trouble just so he could comfort him was flattering, on the other it made him feel guilty about being so needy. And he really didn't know how he felt about being Marshall's boy, that was something to work out if Marshall ever asked him to be. He sure as fuck wasn't asking first.

Marshall sighed and stood up, heading down to the end of the bench and table where Henry waited nervously. "Up, bunny, we don't use negative or judgemental language about anyone else's kink."

His stomach knotted tighter at the nickname. "Wait, Di? Hunters? You're part of the reason there's a dirty great hedge maze lurking to make Freshers late to curfew?"

"One," Marshall counted. "I reach three and your couple of swats gets upgraded to a bared bottom."

"That thing is a - a public menace," Henry babbled, not sure why his legs weren't complying. He was screaming at them in his head to just get up.

"Two. I hear what you're saying, Keen, and you've got my full attention. I'm sure if you keep fishing you'll find the right words to convince me to give you a full spanking."

Henry realised what those were. Once he had, it would be silly not to say them, right? Make him seem unimaginative or something. "Well, if you freaks like messing around -"

Marshall yanked him upright by his hair. "And there they are, bunny. After you've cleared your plate, we're going to take a little walk together and have a conversation about what precisely you want from me. Some of that conversation will be held between your bottom and my hand." He smacked Henry twice, once on each cheek, but left his clothes in place. "I do hope you're getting a drop seat soon. Even if you don't stay in it long."

Face burning, Henry sat down again, trying to work out if that was a reference to the general lack of regard for the uniform among the brat population or a threat that Marshall wanted to take it down regularly. He ate slowly, drawing out the anticipation as long as possible while he tried to collect his thoughts in the hope of being able to answer Marshall's question. Mostly he just found him irritating in a way that made him feel rebellious and, well, bratty. Which led to bad choices and a spanked bottom. If Henry could just control those urges ...

The only person eating slower was Joshua, who had given up all pretence and was watching Flick down the table, like he was trying to telepathically tell on himself.

Eventually, Dare, who had been paying attention to the kids, nudged Flick and said something quietly to him.

Henry hunched over as Flick rounded the end of the table to reach Joshua.

"Not hungry?" Flick asked, way more sympathetic than Marshall had been.

"Debating if I could get a glob of lasagne in your cleavage from here, sir," Joshua replied. "I'd hate to miss and have there be any confusion about who I was bratting at this time, sir."

Henry leaned away from him as though a lack of self-preservation was catching. Though honestly, he'd already caught it. Lamb was definitely the vector of that disease.

Flick sounded more amused than angry. "Is that so, little boy? And what do you think would happen if you did?"

Joshua shrugged. "You might run away again?"

"No. That was something I did because I was too angry at myself for not reading your mind to deal with you calmly at that moment and I should have explained before I left. Right now, I'm reading you loud and clear, kid. And expecting I'm about to sacrifice a t-shirt to the cause of convincing you I'm not about to abandon you again."

A splatter of sauce hit Flick's chest almost as soon as he finished speaking.

There was no hesitation as Flick hauled Joshua up by his upper arm, hand large enough to meet around his bicep. His left foot went up on the bench, firmly flat, and he lifted Joshua over the created knee, leaving the boy hanging either side, unable to reach the floor. Flick held Joshua securely with one hand.

"Squirm and kick as much as you need to, little brat," Flick said warmly. "I've got you."

Henry stood up, moving round to perch on the other bench next to Lamb so there was no risk he'd be in kicking range.

Lamb patted his own thigh. "Plenty of room for you on my lap, Keen. And I'm a softer seat for your tender bottom after two whole smacks."

"Go sit on a cactus," Henry told him.

Flick unbuttoned Joshua's drop seat, then took the little paddle out of the brat's blazer. "This isn't intended to be fun, okay, so let me know if it's not enough to make you a sorry little boy. Once you are, I'm going to sit you back down and I want you to finish at least half of your dinner before we go home. This is why we have group mealtimes, so I can be sure you're not living on crisps and Red Bull."

Henry, who would probably do exactly that in a vacuum, squirmed. Even in Europe there hadn't been anything like the cooking rota Flick had put them all on as soon as they'd arrived. Five nights were supposed to be assigned to each of the boys, then one cafeteria meal and one takeaway a week, but even with Flick's close supervision, Lamb had been way too enthusiastic with the chili powder and just chirped happily about how much he liked it to burn while the others spluttered and fought to be first at the milk. So, cafeteria it was.

He wasn't sure why they didn't just do that every night, their large extended 'family' actually fit into the cafeteria, unlike around the table in their dorm.

That paddle snapped down, peppering Joshua's bottom with a terrifyingly loud series of smacks. The brat kicked and Henry was glad he'd got out of range.

"Fllllllick! Too hard! Too hard!"

"No, Joshua. Just right for a naughty bottom. You know you'll feel better once you're all hot and sore back here and I'm not letting you down this time."

Marshall startled Henry when he spoke millimetres behind him. "Heel, Keen. If you're finished with your food, it's time for our chat."

Lamb gave him an encouraging thumbs up as Henry stood up again, so he flipped him off in return.

Marshall caught Henry's belt loop, reeling him in, then tucked his thumb through it. Henry leaned away, testing the resistance, and found the way his jeans pulled away from his side an immediate reminder that Marshall could take them down at any time. There was so much less contact, but it felt just as intimate as when he'd held his hand. Maybe more so.

With one look back at Joshua, making an embarrassing fuss when it was only Flick laying into him, Henry allowed himself to be led from the cafeteria. By his belt loop.

Henry would never be able to look at another pair of trousers without getting flustered.

Which was ridiculous.

They didn't go far, Marshall taking a couple of turns until they found themselves in front of a bench, particularly screened from the path by a hedge and under a wooden arch overgrown with climbing plants to create an almost private niche.

Marshall let go of Henry's belt loop and he told himself firmly he didn't miss it.

"So, bunny," Marshall said, sitting down. "Let's talk. What made you choose Bratford?"

What made him ...? Henry had expected a demand for a kink list, which was a work in progress. He had one, sure, that was a requirement when he'd signed up, but it was made on the assumption he'd be topping. Bottoming he was a hell of a lot less sure about, nearly everything had ended up in the 'don't know, willing to try' section.

"It offers one of the best Applied Discipline degrees in the country? With practical opportunities a university that catered to all dynamics wouldn't have."

"That's the application interview answer," Marshall said dismissively. "I want the, hopefully highly embarrassing, story of your awakening. What made you realise you wanted into the lifestyle?"

Henry swallowed. "Year before last, I was dating this girl, Marie, didn't work out, but that's not the important part. We were messing around, y'know, and she decided to give me a birthday spanking for my eighteenth. It was the best thing we ever did together, even though she freaked when I asked for harder, so we didn't finish. Found some other kinky friends after that and when we were all talking about uni, they told me about places like this."

Marshall frowned. "Year before last? How old are you?"

"Nineteen." Henry shrugged. "Took a gap year."

"What month?" Marshall demanded.

"December?" What did it matter?

"Fuuuuck." Marshall leaned back on the bench. "I'm June. You're half a year older than me, bunny. And, for now, a Top. Not sure they'd allow me to sign on as your mentor, even if I'm more experienced and can pass the application test."

Henry shrugged again. "Not exactly looking for a mentor. I don't think. I've got Tricia for that."

"Which leads to the million pound question, doesn't it. What do you want me to be?"

He still hadn't got a clear answer, so he let his mouth say whatever first showed up. "Sir."

"Mm. Yeah, love the way you say that, bunny, but that's not specific enough. More sir like Flick is to you or like he is to Darius?"

"Darius," Henry said immediately, he didn't need or want two Flicks. One was frankly excessive. And took up way too much space. "I want, um ..."

"Taming?" Marshall suggested. "Assuming that test comes back as positive as we all think it will."

Henry nodded. "Training," he added. "I lied about the taster session, sir. Went along to the Brat Switch support group and lurked at the back. I'm a -" He hadn't said those words yet, but they needed to be, fuck waiting on the test results, he knew. "I'm a brat. That's not likely to change entirely, but I'd like to be a better behaved one. It'd be really nice if I could, say, interact with Lamb as the more controlled, mature one. And I'm very willing to put myself utterly under your -" What was the right word? "- under you, in any way you wish, to achieve that goal."

Marshall snagged his belt loops again, this time the two at the front, and pulled him closer. "So, not fun? You don't want to play or just get disciplined for the usual stuff, you want zero tolerance obedience training? You want me to use every tool at my disposal to mold you into a good boy?"

"I know it's a lot to ask ..."

Leaving his belt loops, Marshall's hands slid round to cup Henry's buttocks. "My degree is in Taming, bunny. There's literally nothing I would like more and I can claim serious extra credit if I succeed. Like a whole with experience tacked on the end of my bachelor of lifestyle. You should sleep on it, see if it's still what you're after, say, when classes start Monday, then we can open negotiations properly. But right now, I promised you a bare bottomed spanking, which, to be honest, I've been looking for an excuse to do since I held you down for Tricia. When you spank your first brat and see what it's like from my perspective, you'll understand exactly why." He took his hands off Henry's bum with obvious reluctance and started undoing his jeans. "If I do end up training you, I'm going to have to be very strict about maintenance spankings, bunny. A toasty warm bottom will help you manage those bratty urges when I'm not around to hold you back."

Absolutely certain nothing was going to shake his conviction now he'd succeeded in asking for it, Henry allowed himself to be bent across Marshall's knee. "Thank you, sir," he said, "but I'm going to hate it and fight every step."

Marshall patted his bottom. "I know you are, bunny. That's why you need it."

Henry gasped at the first smack. "Y-you said bare?"

"I did, didn't I," Marshall said, casually continuing to lightly swat over Henry's boxers. "And we will. When I start."

It certainly felt like he'd started already.

"One more question, bunny."

Henry kicked his feet against the bench in frustration. He'd confessed his desire for control, wasn't that enough?

"How do you feel about sex? And the fact I already have an arrangement with Lamb?"

"That's two questions," Henry pointed out, reeling a little.

Marshall's long fingers hooked into his waistband. "It's okay if you don't have an immediate answer. I like you. I'd like to Top you. I'd like that to be for both education and fun. Sex isn't compulsory for training, but I can incorporate it, if you'd like."

Henry wriggled a little, sort of maybe accidentally pushing forward so his pants were pulled lower. The Lamb thing he could ignore. He could always veto a threesome and maybe Lamb would be more tolerable with regular sex.

"I don't need monogamy," he told Marshall. "And I guess it would be convenient if I could get all my submissive urges met at once."

Marshall laughed softly at him. "Oh, so I'm convenient, am I?"

The sudden sensation of air on bare skin as Henry's boxers were yanked down.

"One convenient freak for you, bunny." Marshall lifted his hand high, ready for a serious whack. "Gotta admit, I'm glad I got you first. You're cute, you're mouthy, you can take a spanking. That's the dream brat for most of the tamers here."

Henry scowled. "I cried like a baby, how's that taking it well? And I'm not cute, you're thinking of Joshua."

Marshall's hand descended, stinging nearly as much as Tricia's ruler, but it stayed there, caressing the newly sore skin. "Crying is adorable, little bunny. You'll see. Josh will have a lot more trouble finding a Top who wants a masochist around here. Cute as his enthusiasm is, it's going to make him impossible to discipline at the level of trouble he's causing."

Wow. Henry really really didn't care. He kicked his feet against the bench, not exactly throwing a tantrum, but maybe threatening it.

"If only he was as naughty as you," Marshall said fondly. "Brace yourself, bunny, I'm not stopping until I get more of those pretty tears and you're all red back here. Doesn't that sound good?"

Henry shook his head, but he was lying.

Chapter Text

Keller shrugged. "Look, Tatham, I don't know what to tell you."

Joshua gave him a pleading look and held the binders out again. "Which is more subtle? Like this one matches my skin tone, but would it be better to get the white so it just seems like I'm wearing a vest under my uniform?"

With a sigh the guy leaned against the wall outside the Spencer and Marks changing rooms. "You've tried those each on like eight times. Get both."

"Can I?!"

"Joshua. Joshua. Look at me. I don't give a flying fuck what you spend your money on. I'm not the one who's going to paddle you if you go over budget."

No, that would be Flick. Joshua sort of wished he'd stayed in Heidi's dorm, Sadie had said she had barely any rules. But Flick was trying to teach them actual life skills rather than assuming they would just manage. Apparently, Heidi didn't even check in that her girls had eaten and the only spankings Sadie knew about were the one she'd got for skipping orientation and Cherry getting her bottom bared in the living room for messing with those bells.

Joshua never could've resisted that temptation a whole week. He hadn't. Flick had disabled the bells in their dorm before Joshua had even joined it. He didn't think it was gendered, more that he would have been the only brat in the dorm. Regina was apparently having just as much trouble as Flick and she had three girls to one boy plus one non-binary kid.

Everyone acted like Flick was a 'soft Top' but there hadn't been a single day yet where at least one of his boys didn't earn himself a real punishment. That morning it had been Alby, for once, throwing a Little tantrum at breakfast about how dippy his soft-boiled egg wasn't. He'd been crying before Flick had even unpopped the seat of his romper and had only settled down under what any of the others would consider mild patting. Then he'd served a corner time out with only the faintest pink visible as Flick cooked him another egg.

And the evening before it had been Joshua's first turn to cook and Flick had given him a session with a wooden spoon after he'd thrown a tantrum about not knowing how. At home, cooking had always been his mother's domain and any attempts to teach Joshua had led to her getting frustrated he wasn't doing it perfectly and taking over.

Flick had produced a book literally entitled Easy Student Cooking and walked Joshua through a really basic pasta and sauce with vegetables. That spoon had reappeared several times, whenever Joshua got frustrated or tried to argue that it was impossible, and even Keen had told him the result was 'edible'.

That prick was officially a brat too now, but team brat - Joshua, Lamb and Alby - were refusing to treat him as an ally.

Keller cleared his throat. "Okay. Do you need me to Top so we're not standing here forever?"

Joshua shook his head and tossed both binders into his yes basket and considered the next item in his maybe one. A beginner's paddle set, ranging from one nearly identical to his carry implement to a medium weight with drilled holes.

"Oh, definitely don't get that," Keller said. "Flick has a million paddles and spoons and sputtles and whatever the hell else he's made because whittling implements of ass destruction is his happy place."

Darius had wandered into the common area a couple of nights ago looking for a bag of clothes pegs and wearing only a red leather bondage harness and boxers and smugly told them it was Flick's own design. Joshua strongly suspected he wouldn't have bothered with the boxers if Flick hadn't insisted. So, not just whittling.

"I can't just ask -"

Looking directly at Joshua, Keller pulled out his phone and pressed the very first name on his contacts list. "Hi, Flick, yeah, we're still shopping. Josh has to have an argument with himself about every single item in S&M. ... No, actually, that wasn't why I'm calling, but I appreciate the permission. What I want to know is what Joshua should do if he needs a set of beginner's paddles for his bratty bottom?"

Joshua cringed. Tops were evil. He glanced guiltily at the yes basket. Only about half was the stuff on the list he'd submitted to Flick for approval. Binders, packers, make up because Keller had promised he'd show him how to create the stubble effect he had. A really big and scary step towards trying to pass as a man. Hence Keller instead of anyone he was closer with. The Top had several years more experience passing and had been taking T since his eighteenth birthday half a year ago.

Paddles were absolutely not on the agenda.

Keller grinned and clicked the phone on to speaker. "Yeah, he can hear you now, sir."

"Joshua," Flick said, sending a roll of nerves through his stomach. "I hope you've got everything you wanted, because you are going to check out right now. No paddles. Keller is going to be carrying your bags so I can inspect what you've brought and match it to the list you gave me. If you can justify it, I'll allow it, but any implements, specifically, will be used on you right then and there. And then we can talk about finding a nice range of options for warming your bottom. A little wider than just beginner, I think, you're shaping up to be a right little terror and you should have your own to be sent to fetch when you're naughty."

Joshua slowly put the paddles he was holding down in the no basket and picked up just the yes. He didn't change anything about it, despite the ruler lying on top and the half buried lap cane.

It was Keller that took the cane out for him, dropping it in one of the baskets he'd left. "He heard you loud and clear, Flick, and I think you broke his brain a little there. I'll look after him from here, sir."

Joshua found his tongue - in his mouth, who knew? "I'm - yes, sir."

"Good lads," Flick said. "See you both in a bit."

Keller hung up and put his hand on Joshua's shoulder, steering him towards the checkout. "You can keep that ruler, because you're going to apologise to the cashier for all the things someone is going to have to put away and I'm going to use it on you."

"You could use my carry?" Joshua said, skipping over the part where he should be offended that Keller was intending to spank him at all.

"I could, but I'm not going to. We've been here for hours, Tatham, and Flick just told me I shoulda put my foot down much earlier. The moment you paused by something that weren't on your list and wasn't relevant to what I'm helping you with. So, you're getting spanked with that ruler by me, now, and by Flick, when we get home. And I know you're trying to copy Lamb, but you are not ready for a cane, got it?"

Joshua swallowed. "Yes, sir. I want to be ready."

Keller smiled, depositing him facing the cash register. "Keep up the bratting, find yourself across more knees, work your way up. Put the basket on the counter." He grabbed the ruler as Joshua obeyed. Then he nodded at the cashier. "Ring this up too, please, the boy just needs a quick lesson."

The cashier nodded understandingly and gave Joshua a sympathetic look.

"Don't you have something to say?" Keller asked, twiddling the ruler in his hands so Joshua couldn't focus on anything else.

"Uh, I'm sorry I left some stuff by the changing rooms," Joshua said. "I didn't stick to my shopping list and we ran out of time and now someone has to put it back? I'm sorry about the mess."

The cashier nodded acceptance. "Well done for taking responsibility, boy," she told him, only a little stern. She tapped the top of her register's screen. "CCTV, believe me, a few things in baskets barely count as making a mess. The amount of brats I've had to spank in those changing rooms for deliberately doing much worse..."

Joshua gave her a hesitant smile. Maybe he should've... No. That was rude and he felt bad enough about being an inconvenience because he hadn't thought it through and acted like a kid in a sweet shop.

Keller pushed him forward so he bent over the counter. "That was a good apology, Josh, so you get to keep your drop seat up." He hesitated. "I just want you to know that I did summer classes, so you're not the first Bottom I've spanked. That's why Flick gave permission. It's not like if Keen or Sadie bent you over, okay?"

"Sadie already did," Joshua told him. "Dare supervised."

Keller tapped the ruler against his backside and Joshua relaxed. It was really weird how fast he'd gone from never been spanked to finding it comfortable. "You're not in real trouble, neither. I shoulda helped you chill out much earlier and I won't be surprised if Flick hands me my arse for not taking care of you right."

Joshua still made a little squeaking noise when the ruler impacted. It wasn't as mean as his paddle or the wooden spoon and he was very glad Keller had vetoed the cane. He might be settling into the idea of being spanked, but as the ruler striped his bottom it really drove home the point that he had yet to earn a serious punishment.

His feet did a silly little dance, trying to cope with the sting in his backside. It wasn't quite a bad sting. If he had enough of it, he thought he might react like he did to a good hand spanking.

Keller kept it quick and light, knowing Joshua would be expecting more when they got back, then rubbed his back. "I know for a fact we're going to have to make another trip, Joshua. Next time, I'm going to spank your bum before we go, so you leave all those bratty urges at home."

"You can't just say that!" Joshua pouted as he got up and reached for his wallet. "I'm never going to sit comfortably again at this rate!"

"Nope," Keller said popping the p and popping Joshua again with the ruler. "You're goinna spend the next four years wriggling on a sore butt and angling for a top up whenever it doesn't sting enough. And you know what, I think you're going to love it."

Joshua kinda did too. Especially if that ruler came along for the ride.

After everything, classes starting were a relief. It gave them all something to think about besides dynamics and kinks. Even if Sadie had quickly discovered that the content of her theoretically non-lifestyle degree leaned heavily towards lifestyle content. And maybe she'd actively chosen the module titled Discipline Through the Ages but that didn't prepare her for arriving at class to find a brat from one of the older years clamped into a pillory so they could all watch them take a bare bottomed thrashing with a narrow pointer.

First day. First class of the day.

Sadie didn't dare ask what they'd done to earn it that early in the term. Her and her friends in Flick's dorm had managed to find plenty of trouble during Freshers' Week and they weren't familiar enough with the campus to get properly chaotic.

But it was definitely a message to the new students. Behave or this could be you.

To Sadie's astonishment, it didn't work.

After the punishment, the pillory had been wheeled aside, leaving the pink and red striped bottom on display, keeping the warning fresh in everyone's minds. No one could've misunderstood. Professor Bridle had looked directly at the class and said, "I hope that's the only behind I'll be switching today." Consequences well and truly established up front.

Approximately two sentences into the actual lecture, Sadie's neighbour leaned over to chat to her. He reminded her a bit of Lamb. In that he was small and wiry with neatly combed reddish-brown hair and therefore the exact opposite of Lamb in every physical way, but the glint of mischief was pure, confident, lifestyle legacy brat.

"Ditched the seat already?" he asked with a smirk. "So, either overconfident you won't land in trouble or fine with your everything on public display."

Sadie's eyes dropped without input from her brain and she saw he was wearing a pair of casual jeans. His blazer was hung over the back of his chair, but she suspected that would go missing before the end of the week.

"I'm a Top," she hissed, as quietly as possible.

He snorted. "Didn't look that way when you got cropped at the historic roleplay society taster."

With that context she recognised him. The kid, then dressed in a knee length skirt and tight t-shirt on a flat chest so she hadn't assumed a gender, who'd been envious of Bas' interest in her.

She couldn't keep the Switch lie going with her actual classmates, so she quickly grabbed her purse from her bag, extracted her student card and slid it over to him. "Bas was mistaken."

The pointer snapped down on the desk between them. "And I had better have been mistaken that I heard talking," Professor Bridle said sharply. "Names?"

Sadie eyed the pointer fearfully. "Burns, ma'am." The only other information Bridle had given them before the start of class was that she would put the correct pronouns for her that day up on the board and misgendering would be grounds for punishment.

"Lawrence," the boy said, passing the card back to Sadie openly and casually. "My fault, ma'am. I wanted to know why she wasn't in uniform. Turns out she's a Top. Threatened to put me over her knee and all. Trying to maintain order in your class, honestly."

Bridle glanced down at the student card. "Save the threats until you're licensed, Burns. But if he keeps trying to talk to you, swat his thigh."

Sadie could feel the back of her neck turning red with embarrassment. "Yes, ma'am."

Flick had mentioned licensing. The first three weeks of lifestyle lessons would be more frequent than later in the term and focused on getting them capable to administer a simple spanking. Once she'd passed that test, there would be nothing - besides his safewords and her nerve - to stop her from putting Lawrence over her knee, baring his bottom and giving him a sound spanking for distracting her. He was a Brat, she was a Tamer. That was how it was meant to go.

Bridle gave Lawrence a stern look and Sadie a sympathetic one, then stepped back to resume her lesson.

"Bad luck," Lawrence said, quietly and a little smug. "Guess he'll be looking for another pretty little thing to put in its place. Him and half the older Tamers."

Sadie swatted his thigh.

He pouted. He rubbed the spot. He didn't shut up. "See, all the first year brats get snapped up by older students before the first year tamers are ready, leaving you new Tops with no one to top. Until next year, when you'll be competing for the new first year brats. Self perpetuating cycle."

That made a worrying amount of sense. Marshall had nabbed Keen, Albert had started going on dates with Elly, Lamb was offering himself to anyone with the confidence to take him and Sadie had agreed to see Bas again. And the other relationships she knew about tended to be older Top, younger Bottom.

Indira was in fourth year, Elly in third and Marshall second. Tricia, another fourth year, had Warner in second year and Doherty in first. Flick and Dare broke the mold by being in the same year.

Lawrence waved his hand in front of her face. "Either I broke your brain or you're so dedicated to being a good girl you're ignoring me."

"I don't want to get spanked," Sadie snapped, quietly. Like how was that a difficult concept?

"Someone's going to," he said confidently. "My dorm prefect says someone always does, first lesson of a module. Just to establish consequences."

Sadie watched as Bridle stopped talking again and approached.

Lawrence acted utterly unaware. "C'mon, Burns. Live a little. Bet she doesn't even use the pointer."

A moment later he was being hauled out of his seat by his ear.

Bridle did use the pointer.

She gave Sadie a little nod, apparently convinced that she had done the right thing while being harassed, then Lawrence was pushed down over his desk from the opposite side. They were slightly sloped towards the user, which Sadie now saw lifted Lawrence's bottom higher. His jeans had an elasticated waist, rather than a fly, and were quickly pulled down, along with his briefs.

"Lawrence, you chose this class despite its irrelevance to your lifestyle degree, because, presumably, you thought the topic was interesting," Bridle said sharply. "You will do me the courtesy of being interested or you will become very familiar with this position."

The pointer swished through the air to crack across Lawrence's backside horribly close to Sadie. She flinched away, almost tipping her chair.

He gave her a cheeky wink, even as the pointer smacked down again and he gasped out.

A third stroke, low against the top of his thighs, the place all the older Tops called the sit spots and Sadie had never thought enough about before to have a specific word for. The fourth hit the same place and Lawrence's eyes filled with sudden tears. He didn't make a sound, but something must've told the teacher he'd had enough, because she patted his back.

"Feeling a little less bratty, Lawrence?" Bridle asked. "Do you think you can sit quietly and stop bothering Burns?"

He nodded quickly. "I'll be good."

"For now," she allowed. "But don't make promises you can't keep. You'll be feeling better and ready to cause new trouble in no time. And now you know what to expect when you act out in my class." She smiled around the room. "I'm sure curiosity will lead the majority of you to find out for yourselves, and I'm not just talking to the Brats. In future I'll be holding the entire class back at the end to witness punishments in your time rather than mine. Return to your seat, Lawrence."

Sniffling pitifully, Lawrence picked himself up off the desk and slowly pulled his clothes back up. He played up a limp as he rounded the desk, but hardly flinched when he actually sat down. Not half as distressed as he was pretending.

Sadie decided to call his bluff. It was Flick's tactic, when Dare had shown up pretending to be miserable that Indira had followed through on her threat to crop him. Of course, she suspected the fussing was what Dare had wanted, even though he'd pouted even harder about it.

"Would you like a hug?" Sadie whispered.

Lawrence blinked at her in confusion. "I'm not looking for a Top."

"I'm not asking you to Bottom. I'm asking if you'd like a hug?"

Bridle cleared her throat. "Burns! Do I need to rethink my choice not to punish you?"

Sadie winced and leaned away from Lawrence.

"Yeah, go on then." Lawrence slipped out of his chair and onto Sadie's lap.

She was surprised enough that she wasn't sure what to do for a moment, then her arm went around his back, tipping him closer to lean against her chest. He was heavier than he looked and she didn't have Flick's size or strength, but she could still slip a hand under his bottom and gently rub.

Bridle smiled approvingly again and turned back to the board.

Lawrence whimpered softly, then settled into the hug. She could almost imagine he was Joshua, just less wriggly. Sitting right at the front, Sadie had no idea how the rest of the class was reacting, but she didn't really care.

If they could adjust to seeing people spanked all over the place, they could adjust to seeing aftercare too. And Bridle was obviously too busy to do it.

She held him like that until the end of class when he gave her an almost shy 'thank you' and scurried away. Her little bubble of happiness at that couldn't be popped by the hostile glares a few other Tops were giving her.

Chapter Text

"I've got a problem," Lamb announced. He sounded pretty happy about it though.

"Fingers crossed it's an STD," Henry said and sipped his coffee.

Lamb slid into the opposite side of the booth. The better lunch food and coffee place on campus had a few of those to go with the normal tables in the centre and outside. Unlike the Subway and Beggs, The Wurst Brat wasn't a chain place, which meant you were a hipster for going there, but it was unquestionably the best quality. Marshall was supposed to be meeting Henry there, but they all knew he wouldn't mind Lamb joining.

Henry would, but Marshall thought their seething hatred for each other was cute.

"If it was a STD, I'd have said you have a problem, bunny, there's no way you and Marsh would get away with the things you do to me," Lamb said, slapping a pink piece of paper down between them. "But it isn't. I need you to forge Flick's signature."

"No. Obviously." Henry shifted in his seat, trying not to think about how much better company Lamb was when he and Marshall were doing things to him. Or vice versa. For a Bottom, Lamb was a bit too willing to be Marshall's extra set of hands on Henry.

With one glaring exception. And that wasn't something Marshall was doing either. Henry missed it.

Only had it for under a week.

Lamb pushed the punishment slip closer. "You only got caught last time because you didn't leave a note to explain why not. All you need is to tick the applied box and write Flick or Indira's signature. And I know you already know Flick's."

Henry picked up the note and read it. Disrupting class by talking. Punishment not given because student already sore. Recommendation of light spanking with carry implement.

"Why do you even want to get out of this? You play way harder for fun." Henry tossed the note back down on the table, annoyed that it immediately drifted off and he had to fish around by Lamb's feet for it. Lamb didn't help, just leaned back in his seat and moved his legs apart like Henry might've popped down there to suck him off.

"Because I play harder for fun," Lamb said, like it was obvious. "It's like Indira said. If I want to enjoy my fun spankings, I can't have any punishment ones on top. So, if you want to keep jerking off to the Weasel and Ru show, you'll sign it."

"I can jerk off just fine to you getting it for real," Henry lied. "Besides, they send a second copy to your mentor's email. Indira will check with Flick that you really got it and you'll get double for trying to avoid it." Not to mention that Lamb would definitely, immediately throw Henry under the bus for the actual forgery. Dating by proxy with a sadist involved a lot of pointing fingers to get the other in trouble.

Lamb grinned and spun his phone around to show Henry the uni email app opened to a whole lot of messages for I. Chaudhri. "Indira put me in the corner with her laptop logged in and both of us unattended. I checked her saved passwords for anything interesting or potentially useful. I can just delete the messages before she sees them."

As he had to so often with Lamb, Henry bit back a heartfelt why?! Brat reasons, obviously. And he supposed it had paid off, in that it made this ridiculous idea feasible.

"I'm still not going to help you. High risk, low reward."

"I'll pay you forty quid," Lamb offered. "Every time."

Henry would've done it for twenty. Or a blow job. But unlike Lamb with his pocket money from mumsy, Henry was living on his student loan. And he was doing okay, better than he would've if Flick hadn't bullied them all into a budget and minimal nights out, but he'd been eyeing help wanted signs with the certainty that he needed to add to that money if he intended to leave uni with anything more than a degree. Forty was like at least four times what he could expect to earn a retail shift for seconds of actual work.

"Fuck it," Henry said and pulled a pen out of his pocket to sign the slip with Flick's name and tick the discipline applied box. "You'd better be good for the money."

Lamb pulled out his wallet and tossed a couple of twenties at Henry like he was a really upmarket stripper.

Prick.

Henry grabbed them anyway and stuffed them into his pocket.

"I hope this is all above board, boys," Marshall drawled as he approached the table with drinks and food for him and Lamb. "Drug dealing could land you in serious trouble."

Lamb swiped the punishment slip from the table, acting like he was making space for the tray. Way less suspicious than trying to get it out of sight ASAP. "We had a bet on who'd get one of these first," he said, waving the slip, before tucking it back into his bag. "I lost and now Flick's gonna hand me my arse."

"At least he isn't planning on keeping it," Marshall said, then gave each of them a quick kiss on the cheek. "Whichever of you I sit next to the other is going to pout, so move round, Ru."

Henry shifted up so Lamb could slip in next to him and they'd both be facing Marshall. Lamb put his hand on Henry's thigh when he sat down. It wouldn't stay there long, he'd try something they really shouldn't in public and Marshall would have to discipline him.

"Started eating without us, bunny," Marshall commented. "Naughty."

"You think everything I do is naughty." Henry tapped the badge Marshall had given him to wear when they'd finalised their negotiation. A red circle with a diagonal bar. Pretty much universal code for 'no' or 'stop'. "But you won't do anything about it."

Lamb's finger walked his hand over to tug gently on Henry's fly.

"You know what I'm waiting for," Marshall said, putting a sandwich in front of Lamb as though it might distract him from his favourite game of tormenting Henry. "Ask me for a spanking and that badge can come off."

Henry didn't want it off for anyone else. And he didn't want to beg Marshall for something that his Sir wanted much more than Henry did. He swatted Lamb's hand away from his crotch. "Keep it above the waist, Reuben."

"But below is where the most fun bits are." Undeterred, Lamb put his arm around Henry's shoulders so he could - almost subtly - play with his nipple instead. "Any bribe I could offer to get you to make that request, Keen?"

"You'll give it all up anyway," Henry said dismissively, drinking the last of his coffee before swatting Lamb's wandering hand away again and zipping up his fly. "I'm sure you two have time for a quickie in the bathrooms if you eat up."

Marshall smirked. "Excellent suggestion, bunny. We will be quick with you. Since you've already eaten, you've got until we're finished to get yourself prepped. You'll be feeling us both in your afternoon classes. Hurry now."

Lamb grabbed a tube of lube from his blazer pocket and tossed it at Henry with the same attitude as he had the money. "Three fingers, Keen. I don't want to hurt you like that."

And that was why Henry stuck around and tolerated Lamb's company. So far being 'trained' by Marshall had involved a lot of sex and very little spanking. He'd understand if he had to be good to get rewarded, but no. Though he supposed he had got better at following orders. Less instinct to argue and more 'okay, I wonder where this is going.'

Usually up his arse.

And that had been as much of a revelation as the liking being held down. When done well, by someone who gave a shit if he got off, Henry fucking loved bottoming.

Lamb didn't move, so Henry had to squeeze past him practically sitting in his lap. Halfway, Lamb grabbed his waist and pulled him down, letting him feel the shape of the dick that would be inside him soon.

"You're all tense, bunny." Lamb kissed the side of his neck, his loose hair tickling. "I think a bit of colour in these cheeks -" He patted each side of Henry's arse to make it very clear which he meant. "- would help you relax for us. Don't you want to know what it feels like to take it when you're sore. See if you're missing out. I mean, I enjoy it so much. You just have to ask."

Henry rolled his hips, grinding back hard enough that Lamb groaned, then he was free of the booth, smirking back at them both. "If you want to bottom this time, Reuben, you just have to ask. Otherwise, sure, I'll be dessert." He leaned over to give Marshall a proper kiss, surrendering his lips to his Sir's sharp teeth. He tasted of the beef and mustard of his sandwich and coffee more bitter than Henry could tolerate drinking.

Marshall smiled lazily when they eventually broke apart. "Good bunny. But Ru has a point. You should have a lovely red bottom to go with your sweet pout. Asking for it is the next step in your training. We can't progress until you do."

The words, as always, stuck in Henry's throat. He'd be happy with this honeymoon phase, where his arse stayed out of danger, lasting indefinitely. That pink punishment slip in Lamb's pocket made him feel a twinge of guilt, but nothing he couldn't vanish by thinking of the forty quid in his own pocket. Honestly, if Lamb offered him another forty to ask, he'd probably do it, but he wasn't going to tell either of them that.

"All I'm taking today is dick, sir," Henry said, ignoring Lamb's cackle. "Unless you want to take what you actually want. Ru, bet you that forty he cracks first?"

Lamb wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "No bet, bunny. I'd feel bad taking your money so easily." His smile was mock sympathetic. "First time you royally fuck up again, you'll be on your knees begging our favourite weasel for a thrashing." He finally picked up his sandwich. "Rush the prep, Keen. I'm hungry."

Anger adding an edge that Henry knew would make him enjoy the sex that bit more, he stormed off to the Wurst Brat's bathrooms. He sort of hoped they'd get caught. A little stop badge wouldn't prevent the coffee shop's manager from thrashing all three of them to tears for misusing public services.

Not that he wanted a spanking. He just wanted to see Marshall and Lamb get one for being mean. And getting it too would be a fair price.

Joshua adjusted himself for the millionth time. Anyone paying attention probably thought there was something wrong with his dick. Which, like, there was and it was that he didn't have one. That still felt very wrong, though he'd looked at himself in the mirror that morning and seen the flat chest and modest bulge and felt more like himself than he had since puberty hit.

And the school uniform he was wearing really made him feel like he'd slipped back in time to get a do over as the right gender. The fetish details were subtle. Trousers that clung very tightly to his bottom, which he'd been surprised to discover looked genuinely good in them. He'd been tempted to smack it himself and he didn't lean Top at all. Then the button up shirt was a little too translucent for modesty, though his binder countered that effect. The tie wasn't knotted traditionally, but attached to a choker so he could be dragged by it without actually strangling him. He still wore his usual Bratford blazer over it though, cut short at the back for optimal bum access.

He'd spent so much time blushing, hesitating and admiring it that he was going to be late to the first scene session of the Schoolroom Society in association with the Mortarboards. Which was a good way to guarantee he would be one of the lucky brats called up to the front by Birch who was topping that day. Rumour said he started with a pointer.

Joshua still ran. Or, well, jogged, needing to stop every few steps as his packer shifted and readjust.

Then he swung fast around a corner and slammed directly into someone. His shoulders were caught and he looked up at a woman, undisputedly a Top, glowering at him.

"Look where you're going." She launched right in with a scolding tone that made Joshua feel about an inch tall. "What's your name, kid?"

"Joshua. Ma'am! I'm really sorry I'm late to -" he started babbling, but then she put her hand over his mouth.

"Late to school, looks like. One of Birch's brats?"

He nodded and she took her hand away. Without ceremony she spun him around.

"Living dangerously, Joshua, walking around with an arse like that on this campus. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a bit longer before Birch gets it. I think you need a quick reminder to slow down and pay attention."

Joshua didn't react, just let her push him to lean forward. She hadn't even given her name! Like, in theory he knew he could be pulled up on bad behaviour by anyone with a disciplinary licence and that getting one was a requirement for tamers to progress into their second year at all. And it wasn't his first time getting spanked on the first meeting, Elly and his lifestyle module teacher sprung to mind, but there had been a form of negotiation beforehand, where he'd caused trouble and chosen between them doing it and someone he knew better. Flick in both cases.

He realised it was actually the first time he'd been alone in public on campus. Albert was doing the same degree and lifestyle module as him, so they'd walked to all their classes together and every other time he'd been with friends. There was safety in herds.

"I'm going to bare your bottom," the Top told him, firmly. "Brats, unfortunately, can't be trusted to tell the truth about how much trouble they've been in already, so I have to check if you're sore."

Joshua nodded faintly. Another thing he'd known in the abstract, but was a hell of a shock to be applied to him.

"And I spotted that M badge, so I'm going to use your carry."

"Left blazer pocket," he told her, stomach twisting into knots. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I should've been more careful."

"Yeah, yeah. You're sorry now."

The Schoolroom Society uniform trousers did have a drop seat, but it was different from the brat uniform one. That was a cutout flap that could be lowered to preserve modesty and left the waistband securely on. These were designed in two halves, with buttons on his hips. When those were undone they were split at the sides from the waist down to the top of his thighs and the entire back half would flop down to expose him. As would the front.

Joshua had secretly thought that was kind of hot, as it meant he could be bent over a desk before being completely bared without needing to lift up at all. Even if he was iffy on being that exposed in public. But he'd discussed it beforehand with Birch and they'd agreed that if Joshua was called up, he'd have his underwear pulled up instead of down.

The split trousers fell away and he felt the Top's hand on the waistband of his underwear. She didn't know about that negotiation.

"Red!" Joshua blurted and she immediately stopped.

He heard her take two steps back.

"Okay, kid, bare is a step too far, that's okay," she said, switching to reassuring. "You're allowed to change your mi-"

"No! I meant ..." What had he meant? "Yellow? I ... My ..." He couldn't say it. The packer had shifted yet again and he automatically adjusted it, still in the bent forward position.

"Oh!" the Top said softly. "If I pull those down your packer falls out, right? Sorry, I didn't realise..."

She couldn't just say it that casually! Joshua grabbed at the split portions of his trousers and held them up, too flustered to do them up properly and fled.

Back to the safety of the dorm.

Chapter Text

Bas snagged Sadie's waist and pulled her back down to sit on the edge of the bed. "What's the rush?" His eyes sparkled as he got in the way of her pulling her bra strap up to her shoulder.

Her breath caught as he leaned forward to kiss the spot where it would normally rest. "Going to answer my question or do you need a little motivation?"

"I -" Sadie glanced at the clock. She could still make it if they were quick and she doubted the consequences would be too bad if she was late.

With a delighted grin, Bas sat up and flipped her over his knee. Her bra squashed under her chest, only vaguely in the vicinity of her boobs. She kicked in protest, only catching the mattress.

"We've got the whole evening," Bas told her, patting her bottom which suddenly felt very, very bare. "I don't mind if you stay the night. Just call your dorm prefect and let them know."

"I'm supposed to be having dinner with my mentor," Sadie apologised. "He's pretty strict on mealtimes."

Bas swatted her, hard enough that she whimpered. "I can be strict on anything you like, little brat. You just gotta ask. I'll order takeaway. My treat. What do you like?"

"Anything but pizza." Sadie tried to get up, but he pinned her down with one hand on her back and the other stroking her bottom. "No lactose."

He managed to hook her blazer from the floor with his foot and pulled it up to them. "Phone out, call your mentor, tell him you have dinner plans and you'll send him a proof picture of the food when it arrives."

Again she tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down and gave her another stinging swat. "You can do it here, Sadie. I want you thinking of me while you talk to him."

It was hard to imagine that Bas would be jealous of her relationship with Flick if he just met the guy, but she'd been sectioning Bas off from the rest of her life. They'd only seen each other a few times since that first meeting. Purely scening. Him asking her to stay was new and a bit scary. Sadie was fine with a casual lover trying something new, she wasn't fine with a Top stepping in to take control of her life.

Bas obviously wanted more control. More commitment. He wanted to date. In public.

Sadie found her phone in her blazer - those pockets were massive and really well-reinforced, like the uni thought they were going to cart around bricks or something  - and called Flick.

"Hi, sir," she said, trying to ignore Bas' hand drifting down to her thighs. "Uh. I know I said I'd be at dinner, but -"

"Yeah, yeah, no worries," Flick cut her off. "Joshua already told me the Schoolroom and Mortarboard clubs were having a meal out tonight. Thanks for checking in, though. Very responsible."

Bas' hand pushed her legs apart.

"I - yeah." Sadie shook her head at him. "That's where I am."

"Have fun," Flick told her. "And I'll see you tomorrow." His voice raised, not entirely speaking to her. "Lamb just volunteered to help me demonstrate a few low level implements you'll need to know for your licence test."

"Tell him thanks from me. Hard. Oh, I'll send you a picture, so you know I've eaten?" She winced, sure that was a weird thing to offer.

"No need this time," he said. "I'll trust your word. But good idea. I know Heidi doesn't enforce it, so tell me to fuck off if you like, but I would appreciate knowing you've eaten, if you're not over with us. I'll get the boys to do it too, so you're not being singled out."

Bas pinched her inner thigh, laying a line of bursts of pain that moved higher.

"Yeah, sure," Sadie agreed, hoping she didn't sound too breathless.

"It'll be a spanking if you forget," Flick warned, cheerfully. "Take care of yourself or I'll take care of you."

Sadie swallowed as Bas swapped legs and started pinching up the other side. "Yes, sir. I should go. Bye!"

"Have a good -"

She hung up. "Bas! Stop it!"

He did, but then he shifted back on the bed, making a more stable platform of his lap. "I could hear both sides of that conversation, Sadie. You just lied about where you were. Why?"

"Um..." Fuck, what was even believable? "He treats me like a fellow Top. Takes me way more seriously than the Bottoms in ou- his dorm. If he knew I was subbing ..."

Bas lifted her torso to get the bra out of the way, rightly guessing it was uncomfortable where it was. "If what we do together would make him think any less of you, he's a bastard. I'd happily step in as your mentor, if you'd want that."

"Not less, just different," Sadie insisted. "I don't exactly... My test said Top, but that doesn't feel right. This feels right. It's just confusing."

His warm hand rubbed her bottom soothingly. "It's okay. Like, you're a Switch. The test says you lean far enough Top that it's going to call you that. What's important is how you feel and what you do. And you submit to me perfectly. You can be my good little girl with whatever labels they give you."

Sadie hmmmed in agreement. She was feeling dozy, but also incredibly turned on. If he'd just rub a little lower ...

"So, can you tell me what I'm going to spank you for?" Bas asked.

The sleepiness vanished and Sadie clenched up. "Lying to Flick?"

"No, Sadie, that's between you and him. And I'm not upset that you led me on or whatever other nonsense you're thinking. We work. A test score has fuck all to do with it." Bas lifted his hand and playfully patted her. "I'm going to spank you because I really enjoy spanking you. We're going to order takeaway and, since the only places that'll deliver on campus use lifestyle friendly drivers, when it gets here, you're going to be standing in a corner where they can see how lovely and red your bottom is."

"I don't think ..." Sadie squirmed at the thought. Him making her lift her dress at the taster was all she'd ever done in front of strangers.

Bas smacked her properly. She was sure it left the imprint of his hand across her cheeks. "Not as a punishment, little brat. If the first time you get corner time with a red bum is when you're in real trouble in class, it's going to be a whole lot harder to take than if you're familiar already."

That made sense, but she gave him an accusing look over her shoulder. "You just want to show me off."

"Obviously. Give it a try, at least. I won't be upset if you tap out, but I'll reward you for getting through it. Just like everything else we've tried." His fingers rubbed closer to the bottom and centre of her butt, teasing her by not touching where she wanted him most.

"Bas!" Sadie protested, lifting her hips pointedly. "Touch me?"

He pushed his hand properly between her legs, stroking too gently to be anything but a tease. "Is this for the spanking or being put on display?"

There was nothing she could do to get the friction she wanted. "Both?" A more honest answer would have been neither.

As always it was mostly hot that he found it hot. Sadie wasn't Joshua, eagerly pushing up into a spanking because it turned him on, or Lamb, flipping down his drop seat because being looked at turned him on. There were things they did together that she enjoyed that way, but it was the vanilla stuff. It was hot that Bas enjoyed holding her down, being held down wasn't.

He brought his hand around to show her how wet she was. "Well, I know exactly what reward you want later. My reward too. You always taste so good. Lick."

Burning with embarrassment and excitement, Sadie opened her mouth and let him feed her the fingers sticky with her own arousal. She sucked, more interested in the taste of him than herself.

"Good girl," Bas told her, warm, amused and very into it. He used his other hand to manipulate his phone into ordering them food, asking her the occasional question that she could nod or shake her head for.

It was nice. Ish. At least he asked for her input instead of just choosing her food. She nipped a little at his fingers because it seemed like the sort of thing a brat would do.

Bas' phone chimed to confirm the order and he dropped it on the bed beside them immediately. "Fifteen minutes. This little bottom is going to be so sore by then." He tugged his fingers free and dried them on the duvet. It'd need changing afterwards anyway. "Let's start slow. I want to see you change colours."

Sadie wasn't sure she wanted to change colours, but she wanted to know what Bottoms got out of it. And she really wanted that reward. She wiggled her bottom, getting more comfortable over his knee and, coincidentally, being a tease.

His hand lifted high. "There's my best girl. So well behaved ... when you're getting what you want."

Joshua heard the doorbell and slipped to his door to open it a crack and see who it was. Any of their extended group already knew the entry code, so they didn't need to ring. Unfortunately, it was Flick who answered, so all he saw was a broad back screening the visitor.

The voice was very familiar though. And all it said was Joshua's name.

"Joshua?" Flick asked. "I thought he was with you this evening? Play session then going for a takeaway."

"Yeah, so did I, but he didn't show," Birch said. "I wanted to check if he was okay, but if you don't know..."

"I can check TATL." Flick reached for his phone.

With a quiet sigh, Joshua opened his door fully and came out. "Um. Hi? I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry."

Flick turned to look at him with an unimpressed expression that was nearly identical to the one Birch had now Joshua could see him directly.

"If you're fine, young man," Flick said, definitely scolding, "then you can plant your bottom on a blue punishment mat while I reheat some leftovers. You skipped dinner and I didn't think anything of it because you told me you'd be eating out with your club."

Joshua gulped, but obediently fetched the silicone mat from the drawer. Purple was the mildest and he'd only earned that one before. Blue might be only one step up and he wasn't even sore, but it drove home that hiding in his room all afternoon and evening wasn't going to be tolerated here. His mum's opinion had always been that he'd come out when he was hungry and relied on Joshua's own self-preservation to ensure he was fed. Family dinners had only been theoretically compulsory and she might scold him for wasting food, but she didn't really have Flick's strong caretaking instincts.

Birch came in without asking permission and stood at the spot where the living room became kitchen, his hands clasped behind his back like he was the schoolboy in trouble. "I'd have called earlier, but I was wrangling eight brats and several of them showed up deliberately late. Carrie didn't show either, but she texted to let me know she was ill. Ghosting gets you a house call, Tatham."

That made sense, Joshua just hadn't assumed Birch would care enough.

Flick tossed a portion of stew and dumplings in the microwave, which let Joshua know he wasn't properly mad at him. That had been one Flick had basically cooked himself, directing Keller through the steps - Top or not, Keller could follow orders - and Joshua had particularly enjoyed. If he was in serious trouble Flick would've inflicted something Lamb had concocted or, worse, Albert.

The dorm prefect came over to loom and lean on the dining table right next to Joshua. "Care to tell us why you decided to hide?"

Joshua did not care to, but it wasn't really optional. "I ran into a Top on the way. Literally ran into. And she was going to spank me and I panicked." He looked down at the table, mortified. "I safeworded."

Flick and Birch exchanged a look.

"That must have been very scary," Flick said. "If you absolutely can't bear to be punished by a stranger, we can get you a stop badge like Marshall gave Keen -"

Joshua shook his head. "No, it was, um, exciting. Until she was going to ..." He gestured vaguely, face heating at the memory.

"Pull your pants down?" Birch asked, like he already knew the answer.

Flick gave Birch a slightly sterner look.

"We negotiated that not happening," Birch explained how he knew. "But you know what brats are like. If they start begging, unprompted, for something not to happen, most of the time it's because they're hinting they want it to. I don't blame her for assuming and I don't blame you for safewording. That was absolutely the right choice."

"Of course," Flick agreed, spreading his hand over Joshua's shoulder blade. "No one's going to be upset at you for tapping out, kid. Did she understand?"

She'd understood too well. "I wanted it, sir," Joshua mumbled. "I wanted a - a spanking like that. But I couldn't ask for ..."

Once again, Birch said what he was thinking. "A nice rough wedgie?" He smiled sympathetically and tapped his M badge. "Been there a hundred times, Tatham. The general discipline system doesn't always work for us special circumstances. I've had to explain over and over that this doesn't mean I enjoy anything up to a cane, just canes and similar, so they can absolutely give me a few smacks with their hand."

It was a totally different thing, even though Joshua had a matching badge paired with a hand instead of a cane, but it made him feel better. No system was going to work for everyone indiscriminately. And his specific modesty issue wasn't a uniquely trans problem and, given the design of the brat uniform, one that they'd considered already.

Flick rubbed his back comfortingly. "If anything triggers you this badly again, I completely understand if you need to be alone for a while, but once you've calmed enough, I'd really appreciate you coming to find me. You know how much I love taking care of my boys, so never think you'd be being selfish."

Joshua absolutely knew. At the tail end of Freshers's Week Freshers Flu - the inevitable result of bringing a bunch of people from all over together to mingle their unique germs - had hit the dorm hard, the boys getting sick one after the other. Flick had only got a mild case and even during that he'd been practically constantly by the bedside of whoever had it worst. Joshua had made the mistake of arguing about the mother henning and learned the hard way that his bottom could still be spanked when he was running a fever and the only difference was that his tolerance had plummeted so far he'd teared up at the first smack from Flick's hand.

Flick should've been run ragged, exhausted and maybe even getting sick himself once he rested, but he thrived on it. Dare had accused him of wishing his boys were always ill so they couldn't cause as much trouble and been upended over Flick's lap right there at the dinner table for what appeared to be an excessive dose of spatula, but that Dare had bounced back from even more easily than Lamb did.

Which was caretaking again. Darius just wanted his care to take the form of hard discipline.

The microwave beeped and Flick went to stir the previously frozen leftovers and put them in for the second half.

Birch gave Flick's back an eye roll. "That's sweet and all, Friedwald, but the boy needs practical advice. There's no compulsion to wear the split trousers, we just find them more practical for sexual scenes. Stick to the drop seats maybe?"

Joshua shrugged. "I like the split trousers. They're just like ..." How the fuck could he explain it without sounding ridiculous. They just kept assuming. "I wasn't worried about flashing everyone, I was worried about losing my packer! And you're both being really fucking condescending about what you assume I'm supposed to feel about my own fucking body!"

The total stranger he'd safeworded at had understood better than these pricks.

Flick's hands pressed down on his shoulder and reminded Joshua that he was sitting on a mat of silicone ridges. "One of these days you'll learn to say the important bit first, in a respectful tone," he said. "And I really don't want to have to punish you every time you express your feelings and needs, but you are testing me again, little boy."

Birch snorted. "Brats test, call the press. And, Tatham, I think I need to clarify something about my presence here. You aren't in trouble for skipping the session, unless you want to be? I thought you might have backed out because a group was a little too much for your first scene. I'd be up for ordering you to report to the headmaster's office tomorrow for failing to attend class, if you thought that sounded like fun? So you're not left behind when we progress to the junior cane."

Joshua shifted, the punishment mat pressing into slightly different areas. That wasn't an improvement. "What would that mean?"

"It would mean a private punishment. Exactly what you already knew to expect during the class scene, but one on one. I know it's something you technically did, but I'd want to structure it like a roleplay. I'd warm you up then give you a few with the pointer. Depending on your tolerance for the new implement."

Joshua tried not to feel too disappointed. Birch's Schoolroom sessions were held in a rotation through four grades of cane. A pointer that wasn't technically even a cane, lap, junior and senior and he insisted each new person experience them in escalating order, so they could find their preferred level. If he didn't accept, he'd have to wait a whole month before he could try again and, sure, there were other Mortarboards who did class scenes, but in Joshua's opinion, Birch was by far the hottest. Something about him being tall with dark hair and a slightly bratty attitude really did it for him.

The disappointment came in that he wasn't offering something more like he'd given Lamb. Joshua had been completely blanked by Birch during their first meeting, all his attention on Sadie and Lamb.

"I'd like that, sir" he said anyway. "And I am sorry I bailed."

Flick set a glass of water in front of Joshua pointedly. "But not sorry that you shouted at us when we were trying to help."

Joshua was a bit, so he shook his head. "Not at all. You were being complete pricks."

Birch grinned. "I think your boy is angling for a warm bottom, Friedwald. Sure you're up to the challenge?"

Flick raised a warning eyebrow. At Birch. "If you want to angle for a warm bottom of your own, Brandon, I can provide."

"Please, Friedwald," Birch said dismissively. "You were barely adequate when I was your assigned brat for the advanced practical. I've got a Top at home who knows all the tricks to make me squirm. Why would I bother bratting at you?"

Joshua stared. That sounded a lot like more bratting to him.

The microwave beeped and Flick went to fetch Joshua's belated dinner. "Eat up, kid, while I teach Birch to respect his elders."

"I've had a lot of elders try that one," Birch said, confidently. "You're not going to break me."

Flick ruffled Joshua hair, then went to the jar of spoons and spatulas he'd carved basic images and sentences into. "Not looking to break you, Brandy. Just give you a nice toasty red bottom to take home and make Chalk just jealous enough to give you what you're actually after."

With a little laugh, Birch casually undid his trousers. "Where do you want me?"

After selecting a spatula or, well, thin paddle, Joshua guessed, since it wasn't ever going near food, with the word BITCH carved across it, Flick pulled a chair out from the table and turned it to the side. "Over the back of this, hold on to the seat."

The back of the chair was high, but Birch was nearly as tall as Flick. He still needed to go up on his toes, that was probably the only piece of furniture on campus that hadn't been designed for someone to bend over. Flick could've just put the chair the other way around and let him brace against the seat.

"Joshua, if you aren't putting food in your mouth by the time I land the first hit, you'll be up next," Flick warned. He flipped aside the back half of Birch's split trousers.

The stew was just as delicious as it had been three days ago, but Joshua barely paid attention as he ate. All he cared about was watching as Flick gave Birch the 'nice rough wedgie' he'd suggested Joshua wanted earlier. Birch moaned without any shame.

Flick checked Joshua was eating, then smacked the paddle down. "What do you think, Joshua, is that readable?"

Mostly, so he nodded. The c had blurred into the h so it could've been a d and n, but luckily bitdn wasn't a word it could be mistaken for.

"Good." With just as much force, so he wouldn't have to repeat the stroke to make it visible, Flick brought the spatula shaped implement down on Birch's other cheek. That time it was illegible when he took the paddle away to check.

"Damn. These things never work that well," Flick complained. "You'll have to tell Chalk what it's supposed to say."

"Bold," Birch said. "I like it." He straightened without asking or waiting for permission. "I feel like you just made a point, but I'm afraid I don't quite get it." He pulled up both sides of his trousers and fastened them at each hip. He didn't bother extracting his underwear.

"The point, Brandon, is that you handle five to ten brats in a play situation once a week, ran one taster session which Joshua attended, have been to a couple of getting to know you mixers he's been at and act like that makes you an authority on the boy I've been taking care of for three weeks now." Flick spun him to face him and tucked the BITCH paddle into Birch's inside pocket, holding one side of his blazer open. "Next time you feel the need to backseat Top, I hope Chalk or whoever makes you feel this."

"Or that I keep my bitchy mouth shut," Birch added with a smirk. "Fair enough." He blinked slowly. "So, you're pulling rank and giving Joshua what he asked for with the shouting?"

Flick stepped between the pair of them. "I think Joshua's had enough today."

Joshua shook his head quickly. He hadn't had anything. "No, I was rude."

Birch's smirk widened. The brief encounter with the spatula hadn't discouraged him at all. "I'll be waiting when you're ready to come get it, Tatham. Unless Friedwald wants to throw me out the front door."

Spooning up the stew faster, Joshua gave Flick a pleading look. His dorm prefect surrendered immediately.

"Brandon, if Joshua has a single complaint about you, I'll be fetching my thuddiest paddle," Flick told him, making full use of his size advantage to try and intimidate Birch.

"I'll be gentle with the boy," Birch promised. "But not too gentle."

Joshua put his spoon down in his empty bowl and gave Flick another pleading expression.

With a sigh, Flick nodded. "Okay. You can go play. Birch ..."

Birch gave him a mock salute. "Handle with care or else. Both my mums teach here, Friedwald. There is nothing you can threaten me with that's scarier than two professional Tops who can play the parental card. And you're on the thin line between caring and being overprotective. If you want my lifestyle experience CV, just remember it starts with me using a safeword aged four to get out of hugging my grandfather. I backseat top because I do know better."

Flick moved towards Birch and for half a second Joshua thought he was going to either kiss or kill him. "If you are ever the reason my little ray of sunshine is sad, Birch, you'll experience a whole lot of or else."

He didn't look away from Flick as he beckoned Joshua. "Friedwald. If you're ever the reason Tatham is sad, I'll introduce you to Chalk's best Top Breaker cane."

Joshua rolled his eyes. "Cute pissing contest. My happiness isn't dependent on either of you." He sort of liked being Flick's little ray of sunshine, though.

Embarrassed, Flick backed off. "I just want you to be certain you understand what you're getting into."

"My lap," Birch said, pulling a chair out from the table and patting his knee. "A fun scene. A society he's interested in. You're the one acting like I'm proposing marriage."

Joshua went to Birch, bending over his knee with giddy anticipation. The buttons at the sides of his trousers were quickly undone, then the entire back was flipped away. The front half was trapped between their bodies, making him feel a little more secure. Exposed, but no more than his drop seat did.

"I was looking forward to seeing you at the session today," Birch told him, tugging Joshua's underwear up into a less rough version of the wedgie Flick had given him. "He's right to call you a ray of sunshine. You brighten up my day just by being around."

He didn't use an implement, just his hand. The spanking was playful, just hard enough to get Joshua's interest, but so not intended as real discipline.

"I have my preferences, but I play at the level my boy sets," Birch added, directing that part at Flick. "And I'm very happy to just do this. I remember how hard it was to get a nice spanking my first year. Nearly everyone wanted me to feel small and sorry and punished instead. I got lucky with Chalk."

He finished with a couple of light swats to Joshua's sit spots. His bottom was tingling more than aching, a light sting that felt absolutely amazing. Joshua made a soft noise of protest that it was over, but Birch was righting his underwear and rebuttoning his trousers.

"When you're ready we can sit you up on my lap for a big cuddle and a glass of water," Birch said, with the same certainty that he'd used to threaten Flick. "And next time you want a nice spanking, I really hope you'll ask me for it. This is how I'll respond to playful bratting. But you'll know if you go too far." He demonstrated with a single swat that stung about fifty times more than the rest put together, even through trousers and underwear. "Now, apologise for yelling at Flick."

Joshua hung his head as he obeyed.

A moment later Flick was crouched in front of him, stroking his hair. "All forgiven, sunshine. And, Birch, um ... Sorry. I might've..."

"Looked at Lamb's arse and assumed that was the only game I could play," Birch suggested. It wasn't a question. He knew. "He asked for hard. Joshua's asked for nice. And yes, a pointer can be very nice when used right."

It wasn't exactly a love confession and offer to put a collar around Joshua's neck, like in all those Thrills and Spoon novels his mum pretended not to read, but it was a step in a direction he hadn't thought possible.

He slowly got to his feet, permitting Flick to squeeze him so tight he could hardly breath for a moment. Then Joshua was being seated firmly on Birch's lap for another cuddle while Flick fetched a glass of water for him. He suspected Flick was disappointed there wasn't any call for arnica or more food.

To make up for that, Joshua decided he'd make a fuss about bedtime later. It was always nice when Flick tucked him in with a sore bottom, even if it wasn't what Birch called a 'nice spanking'. Joshua just slept better after something had been applied to his bottom with force. Lamb and Albert said the same and Keen was obviously lying when he said it didn't. It was just brat science.

Joshua wriggled to get Birch to hold him tighter and scold him to stay still. There wasn't anywhere he'd rather be.

Chapter Text

The chairs in Sadie's dynamic class were set up with wide gaps between them and no desks when she arrived. She stayed on her own as Cherry, Spooner and Warwick abandoned her to go hang out with the girls from the dorm next to them. Sadie hadn't really gotten to know her dormmates, nearly always being over at Flick's dorm with the guys instead. Unfortunately, Keller had taken the absolute beginners class over the summer and would've probably sat with his row team buddy, Landon, who made Sadie feel a bit unwelcome for being a girl. And Keen ... was Keen. Or rather not keen at all. On anything.

Two weeks in and the class was buzzing with excitement about finally getting their first practical and what it might be.

At the front of the class Professor Wiel clapped his hands. "Don't sit down just yet, class. I want everyone here who already knows how to give a hand spanking to raise their hands, thank you."

Sadie only briefly hesitated before raising hers. Darius had walked her through it with Joshua and Flick had given her a few pointers whenever one of his boys went over his knee in front of her. It would make sense for this to be a quick test, so the students who'd learned that much already could maybe move on to implements.

Wiel's TA, Morton, went around the room, sticking a brightly coloured star sticker to the blazer of everyone with their hand up.

"Hands down once you've got a sticker," Wiel instructed. "I want to be sure you all get one."

Sadie smiled and thanked Morton for hers, but she just shook her head. A few more hands rose while the stickers were being given out, the more hesitant Tops wanting the apparent reward.

She looked around, checking what the few others she knew had and saw Keen giving her the smuggest smirk with his hand down and no sticker. Probably eager to be spanked, since Marshall had made that pronouncement that he was 'Training' Keen and no one else was to lay a finger on him. All punishments were to be a time out, with clothing optional, and to call Marshall to deal with him. Keen had been steadily escalating ever since, picking more fights with Lamb, teasing Sadie and Keller like they'd be more likely to break that rule and generally being a nuisance. And Marshall had responded with anything but spanking. Lines, more time outs, mouth soaping, grounding.

Sadie had walked in on Marshall using Keen as a footrest while Lamb squirmed in the corner with a bright red bottom and had thought that was particularly unfair.

"Okay," Wiel said. "One sticker and one no sticker to each chair."

There was murmuring through the room as they realised they'd been split into two groups so half could be recieving. Which had been obvious in Sadie's opinion.

She wasn't entirely surprised when Keen pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed her arm. He dragged her to the nearest unclaimed chair.

"Say thank you, Burns," he ordered.

"For what?" she hissed back furiously. He'd reached the point where she was willing to risk Marshall's wrath to get her hands on the brat, but she wasn't going to thank him for offering to bend over for her.

"For claiming you before one of those jerks who keep insinuating you're a Bottom could. I've been there and, true or not, it gets in your head. Makes you doubt yourself." Keen scoffed. "I can't believe you're still friends with Lamb when he's just as much of a bully as them."

Sadie ignored that last part, he knew there was a Grand Canyon of difference between hitting up and hitting down. Lamb said that shit with the understanding that he'd bend over the moment he was ordered to, those Tops said it with the assumption that Sadie would bend over for them if they said it confidently enough. Besides, Lamb had been proven right.

"I could handle them," she said instead. "I do actually know how to spank."

Wiel clapped his hands for attention. "We have three unpaired, all with stars. I wasn't sure which way it would go, but I enlisted some help from the advanced and bottom classes against this eventuality." He nodded to Morten who went to the side door and fetched three students from Wiel's office.

Even if Sadie hadn't immediately recognised Keller, her heart would've sunk. There was no doubt they were Tops, which meant...

"Today, I'm going to walk everyone who hasn't done so before through the process of getting a brat ready for an over the knee spanking and starting to administer discipline with a hand," Wiel told them. "Those who already know or claim to will be receiving first, then once those new to the idea have gone through the full process, we'll be bringing in the bottom class and those familiar can demonstrate that they do in fact know. Anyone who lied about their capabilities just now will be facing a far more severe and genuine punishment. Is that understood?"

Sadie raised her hand.

"Burns?"

"My mentor taught me how to administer a hand spanking, but in a different position, leaning forward against a table. I wasn't aware you specifically meant OTK, I'd never have raised my hand if ..."

"Enough excuses, Burns. You'll be getting the same information as those who knew their limits and if you pick it up quickly, you won't be punished for lying."

Sadie gaped at him. She hadn't been lying.

To her surprise, Keen raised his hand next. "I was definitely lying, sir. I'm not even sure I should be in this class, I'm doing freaking Applied Discipline as my actual degree, we had this exact lesson last week and we're already onto light implements."

A few other students, also on the AD course or similar, nodded agreement. They were all wearing stars though.

"Keen, I'm not punishing you for false modesty. Holding back and admitting ignorance is the right answer. The only true answer at this point in your education. If I had been referring to say a Captain Morgan with a spurtle how many of you would even know what that meant? ... Burns, you're testing my patience."

"A Captain Morgan is the spanker standing,  one foot elevated to create a right angle at the knee with the spankee bent across the flat upper thigh. And a spurtle is a wooden implement, a bit like an elongated spatula, originally used to stir porridge. Sir."

"Correct. Stay behind after class, Burns. You too, Keen. Now, those without stars take a seat. Those with stand beside your partners, facing them, on whichever side is their dominant hand."

"And that's why they keep saying it, Burns," Keen scolded quietly.

Furious, Sadie waited by his right side. Wiel should have been more specific. The chairs hadn't been enough of an indication that they'd be doing over the knee. Those receiving could just as well have been braced against the seat.

"Start by preparing them to be bared. If you're very lucky or very strict you might be dealing with a drop flap, but for this lesson, let's assume not. If you are, ignore it. If they're in trousers, reach forward and unfasten them. If a skirt, leave it for the moment."

"That was the brattiest answer you could've given, in the brattiest tone," Keen added as he roughly undid Sadie's trousers.

She clenched her fists so she wouldn't resist. "It was the right answer, said with the certainty I was right. That's all."

"Now, trousers go down, along with underwear. Skirts, lift them up and just pull down the underwear."

There were gasps and giggles around the classroom as the Tops, mostly hesitantly, obeyed. Keen yanked Sadie's down in a smooth confident motion and her hands immediately went to cover herself at the front.

"Don't worry if they're embarrassed," Wiel advised. "The only area you should be concerning yourself with is their buttocks and maybe the back of their upper thighs. You want to bend them forward, one hand on their back or shoulder and the other on their further away hip, as soon as possible after baring them. That initial shock of embarrassment makes brats less likely to resist being put in position."

Keen tipped Sadie easily, manhandling her down across his lap. He didn't follow Wiel's instructions exactly, giving her more of a hug with his right hand on her right shoulder. "There is nothing more annoying than a brat who's right," he said, demonstrating that exact point. He was right. He was annoying.

"Trousers, well done, you now have a brat ready to be spanked. You might want to put a hand on their back, twist their arm behind their back or tuck them under your non-dominant arm to make certain they'll remain in position. Skirts, your options for restraint are more limited, because you're going to take hold of the hem of their skirt and lift the back of it up, uncovering their bottom, then use your non-dominant hand to hold it out of the way."

"I'm not trying to brat," Sadie told Keen, haughtily.

He patted her bottom and only her anger at him kept her from attacking. "I know, it just doesn't look that way to everyone else."

"You should all have a bare bottom now," Wiel said. "Either in front or behind you. Waxwell, what are you doing?"

A Top a few chairs back groaned. "Swash's wearing a jumpsuit, sir, we can't work out how to do it so she's not just in her bra."

"Do it so she's just in her bra," Wiel said calmly. "Jumpsuits, onesies and the like are a brat tactic they usually only try once if you make it clear you'll bare them no matter what."

Keen rested his hand on Sadie's bottom. "Believe me, I'd prefer this the other way around as well, but you didn't give me time to warn you."

This was so incredibly not Sadie's fault.

"Warwick, Ruff, Vass?" Wiel asked, eyeing the other three students who hadn't managed to produce a bare bottom.

The three quickly gave the same answer. Safeword use. Which, when their partners were questioned about their reasoning, was either because all of them were on their periods or the first had been and the others thought it was a good enough reason to use themselves less honestly. Wiel wrote out punishment slips for them anyway. Apparently, he was really dedicated to squashing their confidence.

"You didn't want to warn me or you'd have done it before the lesson," Sadie snapped.

"Maybe you should be the one getting training," Keen said, not quite managing to make it sound like a joke. "Since your attitude is going to land you with a sore bottom sooner or later."

"Jealous?" Sadie shot back.

"Whenever you are ready, lift your hands," Wiel instructed. "Cup them slightly to cushion the blow for yourself. Then bring your palm down on the bare bottom in front of you. If you do it right, you should see some pink."

Keen didn't hesitate, but there was very little force behind the smack.

Sadie twitched, but more from annoyance that he was touching her bum than pain.

"They'll only see pink if they've got someone as pale as me over their lap," Keen muttered.

All around the room, hands were falling with varying results. Someone squealed after a particularly loud clap.

"That's what you should be getting," Wiel said immediately. "Well struck, Spooner."

Sadie scowled at that name. Spooner had offered to spank her enough that she was astonished she hadn't claimed she knew. Then again, she was doing Applied Discipline and therefore had the same prior warning as Keen.

"Continue spanking," Wiel ordered. "I'll be going around the class and checking your technique."

Keen sighed and lifted his hand again, letting it fall with barely a sound. Sadie had seen Flick spank Alby harder than Keen was managing. She didn't think it was a coincidence that Wiel started with the pairs on the other side of the room.

"Your technique is nonexistent," Sadie hissed.

"Asking for harder, Burns? And you're really, really sure you're not a Brat?"

She'd thought it was hyperbole when the older Tops said something made their palm itch, but her irritation at Keen was definitely a physical sensation. If she had him stretched out over her lap, she'd be applying her hand with a hell of a lot more conviction.

The condescending patting continued.

Eventually, Wiel arrived. The moment the teacher was paying direct attention, Keen put his back into it. Sadie kicked her foot against the floor and let a pained noise escape at the sudden escalation.

He seemed perfectly comfortable with that level and she couldn't think of a good reason he wouldn't have started with that. Either he thought she was too fragile to take it - rude - or he was scared she'd give him as good as she got - tempting - though she had more than enough good reasons to give it to him without it just being silly revenge.

Wiel watched.

Sadie tried to reduce her reactions, but there was no hiding the fact Keen was administering a competent spanking. She really hadn't thought he had it in him.

"Good, Keen," Wiel said, after a little too long for Sadie's comfort. If he was so offended by her being right she'd rather he spank her himself. Her indignation got her through the few more before Wiel moved onto the next pair and Keen breathed a sigh of relief.

His hand still rose and fell, but it was back to the level he'd started at. "You okay?" Keen whispered.

Pride smarting more than her bottom - he did think she was fragile - Sadie nodded her head once, biting her lip to keep from starting an argument.

"I'm sorry," he added. "If you want to return the favour, I, uh, won't resist."

Ha! "You'll have to try better than that to get me to go against what Marshall's ordered," Sadie spat. "Get your rocks off on your boyfriend spanking someone else."

There were only a few more pairs and Keen patted her mechanically until Wiel finally clapped his hands and called a halt. "Now, the most important part. Aftercare. Assist your spanked Top to their feet."

Sadie shoved herself to her feet, ignoring Keen's wince as she put her entire weight on one spot on his thigh. She, and quite a lot of the others who'd been receiving, pulled their clothes back into place before Wiel could give the order for the spankers to assist with that too.

There was no way she was going to submit to Keen's groping, so when the order came to sit on his knee, Sadie looked him directly in the eye and called red.

Face going blotchy red with anger or embarrassment, Keen stood up, tipping the chair and stormed out of the classroom entirely.

A few moments after that, Keller shifted his paired spankee to one of the Tops who'd safed out earlier and came over to wrap Sadie in a hug almost as good as Flick's. She cried a little, cocooned in his arms, and it was fine because he made a point of shifting to shield her from the eyes of those who thought she wasn't Top enough. Her bottom was barely sore, but her pride was mortally wounded.

Aftercare was kept to a tight five minutes, then Wiel was instructing those who had successfully administered a spanking to stand on one side of the room and those who hadn't to go to the other. Those who had received were to sit on the chairs, on their sore bottoms, and the brat class was let in.

Sadie couldn't help but smile as Joshua enthusiastically bounded towards her, dodging an overeager seated Top who tried to intercept him. No Lamb, since his Bratting degree fulfilled the lifestyle requirement and he could pick whatever module he liked to fill the free space. Like that Lawrence kid in her Discipline Through The Ages class.

She put her hands on Joshua's hips to keep him still. "Relax. Or Wiel might decide you're too much of a handful for us beginners and you'll have to sit out."

With all the no prior experience Tops, regardless of degree, taking the introductory course before their licence, there were a lot more Tops than Bottoms. But only half of those Tops were getting to prove they hadn't been exaggerating their abilities, so about a third of the Brats were unpaired.

Sadie could easy swap Joshua for a less excitable Bottom. She really didn't want to, but the threat made him settle.

Wiel didn't repeat the instructions he'd given the no star Tops, just ordered them to begin.

Joshua fidgeted through her undoing his trousers, but didn't resist. A few brats around the room were, giggling when the Top they were paired with didn't know how to react. Sadie could've told them. They didn't need to be perfectly positioned to start swatting.

She left his pants up and barely had to put her hand on his shoulder before he was bending over. "Good boy," Sadie said, nice and clearly. She didn't shoot Spooner - over by the wall with the competent Tops - a smug look, but she wanted to.

Or was that a bratty urge?

Bas would've tipped her chin up, caressed her lips and told her a look like that was asking for a spanking. According to him, she asked for spankings every few minutes.

"Bare, Burns," Wiel sneered. "Get her up and start over."

"Joshua has requested that he not be bared completely, sir," Sadie said, knowing her tone was the exact one that had landed her in trouble earlier. "Too much chance of little confusions like the one you just had." She gathered Joshua's underwear, pulling it up harder than really necessary.

He groaned, or maybe moaned, softly.

"I can get the bare skin I need this way, sir," Sadie continued, as though she was the teacher. "He's all ready for his little bottom to be turned a nice red."

Joshua squirmed and she patted him lightly. "Wait patiently now, boy. Everyone else needs a brat bottom up, just like you are, before we can start."

Wiel's mouth turned into a thin line. "Passable, Burns." Meaning he couldn't find anything wrong with her technique and he was furious about it. "But don't forget I asked to see you after class."

"You asked to see Keen too," Sadie said, probably making things worse for both of them.

"It's usually the brats who drive students out of my class, Burns." Wiel obviously shared certain opinions about her dynamic designation. "Perhaps consider a retest." Sure he'd 'won' that interaction, he turned away to order a struggling Top to kneel at the front of the room to await punishment for outright lying.

Sadie focused on Joshua above anything else. Flick had been insistent on that point. The Bottom in her lap should be the most important thing in the world as long as they were there.

Soon, she'd be turning his lovely bottom the exact shade of red he liked the most. It was exciting, especially knowing he'd enjoy it too. And she was almost more excited about the part after that where he'd curl up against her chest and hopefully cry some big emotions out.

She found she was rubbing circles on his back. The temptation was to rub lower. To touch the currently unblemished hills of his buttocks. He was such a good boy for her. Just a little quivering to give away his impatience. Surely that deserved a reward?

"There's my best boy," Sadie said. "So good it's almost like you don't want a spanking at all."

He shook his head. "Please, ma'am? I really do!"

"I suppose. Since you ask so nicely."

It felt so incredibly right. Unquestionable proof that Spooner and the rest didn't know anything.

As the order was given and Sadie raised her hand, she had the vague thought that it never felt like this with Bas.

Chapter Text

Henry flopped onto his back on Marshall's bed, glaring at the ceiling like it was responsible. "It was fucking awful. I almost put my fist through Wiel's face and I had to spank Sadie."

"Wiel?" Marshall didn't look up from his desk, but he did pause his typing. "Oh, yeah, he's a cunt. But he's effective. Gets everyone through their licence test, probably just because they want to stop being taught by him. You won't have to deal with him, like, at all after that."

"I ran out of his class," Henry added. "Sadie safed on aftercare. Wiel had already told me to stay after the class, so, sorry. Your badge isn't going to stop me getting my arse kicked."

Marshall turned his office chair. "Oh, bunny. You need a big, tough Top to come with you to face him?"

"I'm not going to face him," Henry insisted. "I'm just going to stop going to his classes."

"So you need a big, tough Top to escort you to your doom? Because you know that's just going to make it worse."

Henry did. He nodded.

Marshall grinned. "I'll get Indira."

Henry threw a pillow at him.

A moment later, he was scooped off the bed, pulled to his feet and Marshall's hand was in his back pocket. "Or I can do it, brat. Best to get it over with. Unless you need..."

"I need you to ... to take over," Henry admitted, which was more than he had before. "Like completely."

"I don't want to force you into this if you aren't calm and ready, bunny." Marshall leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Colour on going to see Wiel?"

"Green, I guess." It wasn't worth resisting.

All too soon, they were outside Wiel's office being told to enter.

"Keen," Wiel said neutrally. "Feeling better?"

Henry bristled at the patronisation. "Fuck off."

Wiel's mouth twitched into a half smile. "From a brat, I'll take that as a yes, sir. Your first safeword while topping is always a difficult one." He glanced at Marshall. "Talk it through. I imagine I am not the person you want to have that conversation with. Someone more approachable, perhaps."

"Skip the rubbing it in and tell me what I'm getting for bailing."

"From me? Nothing but sympathy. You removed yourself from an uncomfortable situation. I had wanted to talk to you about your antagonistic attitude to your chosen partner during class, but my conversation with her leads me to believe you are simply antagonistic by nature."

Whatever the fuck that meant. Henry could sort of guess from context, but 'antagonistic' was a new word for him. "What did you do to her?" His fist clenched.

"Prying into other people's punishments is generally frowned upon, Keen, but in this case I wrote her a punishment slip."

"You were shit to her in class."

"I'll admit, my initial read on her confidence was that it was unfounded arrogance," Wiel said. "I was wrong. There are a handful of students every year who march into my classroom with no experience and demand I act as though they are already experts. They're always certain they know better than me, at least. A sharp lesson against hubris is the general recommendation. Miss Burns more than proved herself during the brat handling, however."

"She did nothing wrong. You should take that punishment slip and -"

Marshall squeezed his arse in warning.

"Oh, I doubt it will be fulfilled. Miss Burns is obviously conflicted and taking that slip to her mentor should facilitate communication. It's a subject she needs to confront, if she is to have any future in the lifestyle."

"Sadie has more of a future than your condescending -"

"Bunny," Marshall snapped. "Enough. Sadie doesn't need you to defend her from a shrivelled prick who won't admit he was wrong unless he can say he's right now. If Keen's not in trouble, we won't waste any more of your incredibly important and valuable time."

"Marshall, right?" Wiel asked. "Last year's class, passed on your second or third attempt."

"Second. And yes." The missing 'sir' was incredibly loud.

"Hand."

With a defiant glare, Marshall held out his left hand, palm up and slightly cupped in the way they'd been instructed to during the spanking lesson. Henry hadn't considered that it would be effective at impact reduction when receiving too.

Wiel opened his desk drawer and picked out a ruler. "Keen gets allowance for rudeness as I won't discipline someone dealing with Top Drop without a more explicit request. You, Marshall, do not."

Marshall took the first stroke across his hand with a choked off cry of pain. He took the second in silence. He didn't lower his hand when the ruler was. "Being wrong isn't a sign of weakness, sir. Refusing to admit it is."

"Out." Wiel looked particularly unamused about being contradicted by another nineteen year old. No half smiles now.

Henry hooked his fingers into Marshall's belt loop and pulled him out of the office. It was more difficult, because Marshall actually wore a belt.

Outside, Marshall curled his striped palm into a fist and hit the wall. "Fuck!"

That was so not something Henry could deal with, but no one else was going to. "What the fuck, Marsh? I brought you along to keep me in line, not jump across it your-fucking-self!"

Marshall took a deep breath and muttered something to himself before turning, outwardly calm again. His anger wasn't at Henry, that much was obvious. Himself or Wiel were the only ones in danger. "Should've got Indira." His touch to Henry's arm was gentle. "I've got a problem with authority is practically the university motto, but mine gets much worse with genuine authorities. I know everything else he said was bullshit, but you need to tell me, are you dropping?"

Henry shrugged. He gathered Marshall's hurt hand up and brought it to his lips for a kiss better on both sides. "I don't really know what that means."

"During a scene, emotions can be heightened. Good, bad, doesn't matter. Afterwards, and occasionally during, Tops and Bottoms can get emotionally disregulated. Usually a crash of feeling just so so awful. It's way more likely to happen if there wasn't sufficient aftercare. That's not just for the Bottoms, you know. Giving aftercare helps you process what you've done and check in that your scene partner is okay."

"I didn't get that," Henry said quietly, holding Marshall's hand and examining the whorls of his fingerprints. He was strangely fascinated by the mark splitting his palm. Last week they'd had a whole lesson on anatomy with a humanoid figure shaded green to red to indicate safe areas to punish. Then they'd had, to colour their own from memory. The hand had been a sickly yellowish-green.

"You asked for me to take charge, bunny," Marshall said, allowing the scrutiny. "Is that what you want? A scene with me and proper aftercare?"

Henry shook his head. "I mean yes, but ... Can it be a spanking, sir?"

Marshall smiled. "If you ask properly I'll smack your little fluffy tail, yes."

"Bastard," Henry muttered. "But, yeah. Can I - can I please have a punishment, sir?"

"Of course, bunny." Marshall hooked onto his belt loop. "When we get back to my room you can spend some time in the corner thinking about your behaviour."

"You know that isn't what I meant!"

"I can only know what you mean if you use precise language."

Henry scowled stubbornly. "I can't."

"Then you're going to go to bed early tonight without it. Again. It's a big first step, bunny, asking for it directly, but once you take it, we can really start. I have a game in mind that I think you're going to hate."

That should not be an incentive.

"What if I did something bad?"

Marshall increased his pace, forcing Henry to hurry to keep up. "If Wiel had told you to bend over in there, there's nothing I could've done to prevent it. If you're naughty enough at a teacher, you'll get a smacked bottom."

"And getting punished by someone else would make you jealous enough to ...?"

"No, little bunny. The only way you're getting it from me is if you use your words."

"Go fuck yourself." Henry folded his arms, trying to radiate defiance. "You know what I'm asking for. Why do I have to say it?"

"Just once, okay. Then we can go back to you pushing for a spanking the normal way for a brat."

That was new information. They'd had this 'ask for it' 'no' conversation pretty much daily since their disciplinary arrangement had started and then, well, not started, but Henry had half assumed that he'd have to explicitly ask every time. That changed things. One highly unpleasant experience as trade for the start of his real training. Acceptable.

"You're a good boy, Henry," Marshall told him, quickly typing in the code to his, Indira and Elly's apartment. "All I need to do is teach you to control your mouth. Moving on to the Bratting module once you've got your licence will really help. Drubber will teach you lots of ways to be cheeky without being offensive."

"I'm fucking delightful," Henry snapped. His brief worry for Marshall had overruled the gaping chasm of feeling like a fuck up for a few minutes, but it was back with a vengeance.

Sadie hated him and he was certain she was right to. He couldn't apologise. She had twisted his words and actions to assume he had the worst possible motive. She should be the one apologising. But she was the Top and he was just a Switch, so he should surrender and take all the blame.

Things were clearer when someone else was calling the shots. Henry just wanted someone else to tell him what he was supposed to do. He'd take a scolding and unreasonable punishment from Sadie if it meant clear, simple orders.

Marshall opened the door to his room. Henry was strangely disappointed that it hadn't changed since they'd last been in it. It should have burned down or been hit by a hurricane to match how he felt.

"Corner time, bunny," Marshall told him as he closed the door. "Since you asked for a punishment."

"No." There was a paddle on Marshall's chest of drawers, so Henry stormed over to snatch it up. "Why the fuck are you being such a prick about this?!"

"What would help, Henry?" Marshall looked at him, infuriatingly calm. "What do you need to settle you down?"

Henry opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. He knew. He knew. He just couldn't say the words. Which he also knew was all that was standing between him and getting what he wanted. Needed. Needed was a lot more accurate.

"I need a - a spa-" Henry choked on the words again. Then he threw the paddle onto the floor between them, glaring defiantly. "I need to be punished, sir."

"I just gave you one, Keen. Which you decided you didn't want to comply with, so you'll be doing lines for me in a moment." Marshall sat down on the edge of the bed, shifting backwards so there would definitely be room across his lap. He wanted to do it.

"A spanking!" Henry said, embarrassingly loud. "Fuck's sake, you utter bastard! I need a spanking!"

Marshall smiled like Henry had just got an A* on all his exams. "Good boy, but what do you want me to do about it?"

Henry groaned. "What the fuck do you think? Just spank me already. Prick."

"Close enough." Marshall shrugged. "Okay, bunny, come here. Let's get you over my knee."

Henry looked down at the paddle on the floor, then picked it up. "I'm sorry for disrespecting your implements, sir."

"Put that on the bed and come here. There will be consequences if I have to fetch you now you've asked."

He placed it on the bed, but didn't move towards Marshall.

"One."

Not a twitch.

"Two."

Henry needed to make it clear.

"Three."

He wasn't going to be satisfied with anything less than Marshall's worst. He'd been buzzing out of his skin with missing it for at least a week and a half, which was stupid when he'd managed just fine for nearly eighteen years without any at all and had only got it once between his very first and starting at Bratford. Now he couldn't make it four days.

It was a bit like wanking. Not something he had known to need until he'd started doing it regularly.

Marshall stood up. "Okay, bunny, you want the hard way. We can do that." He went to the minifridge and opened it.

Henry tried to crane and see what he was doing, but a moment later Marshall turned around anyway, closing the fridge and holding up a carved piece of something. It wasn't that large, maybe as long and slightly thicker than one of Marshall's fingers. Not that Henry had been paying a huge amount of attention to those fingers. Or thinking about what they felt like inside him. Only constantly.

"I know this is another scary step, bunny," Marshall said gently, mistaking his confusion for fear. "Your first taste of ginger. Get you burning nice and deep inside while I make you burn outside too. How does that sound?"

He shrugged. "Up for trying it. Like I said."

"Good boy." Marshall patted the edge of his bed. "Grab a towel, just in case this is one you enjoy, and bend over here, bunny. You're going to get a lovely little tail poking out of your cute red bottom."

The towel was definitely necessary if Marshall was going to keep talking like that. Henry grabbed one from the wardrobe, trying to ignore the cubby of toys Marshall also kept there. He tossed the towel over the bed where he'd be laying.

"No comment about how it'll match my hair?" Henry asked, defiant.

Marshall looked at the ginger and frowned. "No, I don't see it." He held it up next to his own head. "More my colouring honestly. And quit stalling, bunny, or I'll see about turning the rest of the root into a sounding rod."

Henry hadn't tried sounding at all, stuff going inside his dick was another willing to try. He really didn't want to start with ginger though. With a huff, he yanked his clothes down and bent over the bed, wriggling just to get comfortable. Definitely not to be a tease.

He jumped at Marshall's touch, his sir not messing around and going directly to pulling one cheek aside for access to his hole. The ginger didn't feel like much at first, he'd been fingered open more roughly with thicker, and it was slightly damp with its own juices, sliding in easily.

His expectation was that the spanking would start as soon as it was in, but Marshall just put his freed hand on Henry's other buttock and started massaging, rubbing both together in a way that made Henry squirm and brought all his attention to the intrusion of ginger.

Then it started burning.

Real heat, like Marshall had stuck a hot coal up there instead.

Henry gasped and tried to squirm away, only stilling when Marshall smacked him for it.

"Yeah. You're feeling it, right, bunny? Scorching up your insides just like I managed to spank you there. Now, this isn't a punishment for anything specific. Hell, you could argue it's a reward for telling me what you need. Because you're my good boy. So, what do you want it with?"

He shrugged and arched up, offering up his bottom like there was a chance he'd get mercy. Or Marshall wouldn't keep forcing him to ask for what he wanted.

"You want me to choose, bunny? Decide what happens to your beautiful bottom?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. My arse looks great, ginger burns and I was apparently a good boy even though I've been acting like a complete brat for a week solid. Get the fuck on with it."

The paddle he'd been tossing around snapped down immediately and Henry clenched. Then he discovered why that was a bad idea while filled with a fucking ginger plug.

"Though this is your choice really, bunny," Marshall mused, watching him squirm. "But you just grabbed whatever was available. I left this one out just in case you needed a visual aid to ask. Harder than your carry, but a good option for a beginner."

Ginger aside, it felt similar to the one Flick had used to punish him for the forgery.

There was a pause, then Marshall rolled him onto his side. He unclipped the little stop badge from Henry's blazer. "I almost forgot. You're free range now, bunny. I'm so looking forward to pulling your pants down and finding a red bottom from someone else." He pushed him back into position and twisted the nub of ginger to make Henry clench and increase the burn. "When that happens, we're going to reinforce that punishment."

"How?" Henry gasped. It all felt too much and he wanted more.

"Step one was communication, bunny. You passed. Step two is choosing your targets. Only aiming where it's welcome. This is a give and take arrangement. You give me lip and you take the consequences. I take the insult and give you an appropriate spanking. On campus it's pretty much guaranteed you'll be bratting at a sadistic Tamer who's only too happy to get you in this position."

"Like you," Henry muttered.

"Exactly like me, bunny. There are the occasional exceptions, like Flick, who prefers his brats already sore, sorry and ready for a cuddle, or Indira, who prefers Tops who need discipline, and your teachers won't be impressed if you waste their time, but act out in public and you'll attract the right sort."

The right sort being the sort who wanted an excuse to turn his arse red. Henry could live without that.

Except he'd just tried to live without it for two weeks and it had been awful.

"So, the game you're going to hate." Marshall began tapping the paddle very lightly against Henry's bottom, making him clench around the ginger each time, but not hurting outside. "We're testing your endurance. Brat. At anyone you can and don't stop until you can't bear any more consequences. And record it. Every smack, warning and other punishment. Once you've got hold of that no more feeling, you can practice summoning it at will. An internal stop badge. Does that sound useful?"

Obviously. If Henry could block his bratting instinct, he wouldn't really be a brat and he could get back on track with just being a Top. A bit of temporary pain would suck, but he'd expected the cure to be painful.

"Yeah," Henry snapped. "Is that why you aren't hitting me?"

"Right before a spanking you're too keyed up and bratty to listen, afterwards you aren't going to hear a word."

Henry sighed. It wasn't an unfair assessment.

"We'll start that game once you're all healed from this," Marshall informed him. "And I'm so proud of you for asking, bunny. Until your bottom is ready for a really intense day, I'm putting you on the exact opposite of zero tolerance. Spoil you for being such an amazing, good boy. You earned a punishment, yes, but you've earned even more rewards. Brace yourself, bunny, no more holding back."

The paddle drummed against his backside, too fast to keep up with a count. Henry twitched and jerked, but stubbornly held position, his hands twisted into the duvet so he couldn't reach back.

He rode the pain, twisting between little bites of the paddle and the burn of the ginger. It sucked, but the relief it brought was indescribable. Henry wanted to kick himself, if he'd just got those words out earlier ...

There was something extra about knowing Marshall was enjoying his side of it. He'd felt it when they'd done it for the first time on the bench with the hedge and trellis. With Tricia and Drubber, all he'd been able to think about was the humiliation - and in the former case, Marshall's hands holding him down - and Flick, he now knew, felt guilty every time he had to discipline anyone seriously. Wouldn't stop the prick from doing it, but it meant there wasn't an ounce of enjoyment in the entire process until the aftercare.

Miserable.

Marshall, on the other side of the paddle, loved spanking naughty bottoms. Getting Lamb bent over and sobbing turned him on and, more often than not, Henry benefited as Marshall dealt with that arousal by taking him instead. If Lamb was naughty enough to get spanked, he didn't get the reward of getting fucked.

Henry wondered if it would be the other way around in future. Him exiled to the corner with a red bottom while Lamb rode Marshall behind him. Probably. He hoped so. Lamb's sadistic streak was very much aimed in his direction, so if Henry was naughty and Lamb was good ...

He relaxed under the continued hail of smacks, more spaced out now. More controlled and, if anything, harder for it. Surrender felt good, Marshall had him and he didn't need to worry about anything.

There was still the guilt, gnawing at his insides, but it grew smaller with each burst of pain. All the stress of the last two weeks without punishment soaked away as the burning fluids of the ginger root soaked in.

It took him a few minutes to realise the paddling had stopped. He was sore, inside and out, but that sense of his guilt being completely scorched out of him hadn't shown up. He needed more, but definitely couldn't ask for that. He squirmed, trying to draw Marshall's attention back to his arse.

"Beautiful bunny. But you need a little more, don't you?" Marshall's finger slid between his cheeks, playing with the end of the ginger.

Henry nodded, as eagerly as if it was a normal plug that Marshall had put in him at the start of the day with a promise to take it out and replace it with his and Lamb's cocks that evening.

He expected the crack of the paddle to start again or at least Marshall's hand over the sore skin, but instead the ginger root was eased out of him. Henry clenched around the air, relieved the burning didn't immediately stop, though it didn't intensify as much without the intrusion.

"Fun fact, bunny," Marshall said, his finger slipping into the place the root had just occupied. It was slick with lube. "I love ginger. It burns just right to drive me wild. Do you like it?"

Henry shook his head. It was definitely one he'd reserve for punishment. Helpful, but not something he wanted added for fun. He made a soft noise at the addition of a second finger. Not what he'd thought he was asking for, but he was quickly getting in the right mood for it. A little more punishment would've been perfect, but he wasn't going to argue with the guy stroking his prostate.

"That's okay. Ru likes it, so I'm not missing out or anything by keeping it for your punishments. But it does mean that I can still have my bunny when he's naughty." Marshall leaned over him, kissing his shoulder blade since he wasn't tall enough for higher. "Hot inside and hot outside is just the way I like you best. But you're perfect all the time, love."

Henry gasped, but it wasn't because Marshall had slid home, hips hard against his sore arse as if there was deeper he wanted to be. It was because it had been a very long time since someone told him they loved him.

Chapter Text

Flick being disappointed really was as bad as Sadie feared.

He gently lifted Alby off his lap, where they'd been sitting on the dorm sofa watching Thomas the Tank Engine and the Little whined, making grabby hands for him to come back.

"Albert," Flick said, letting the long name do all the scolding. "Do you need cuddles all afternoon or do you want to go on that playdate with Owen?"

Alby sat on his hands quickly. "Wanna see Ow, 'ncle F'ick."

Sadie struggled not to be annoyed by the childish syntax, he was a Little after all, but the dread that settled in as Flick stood up eclipsed it completely.

"Let's have this conversation in my office, Sadie," Flick said. "You certainly aren't the first one I'd have expected to bring me one of those."

She clutched the yellow slip of paper as she followed him into the little prefect office. The carpet was nice, all swirly red laced with grey. Mainly it was nice because it meant she couldn't see the paddles on the wall.

"Darius, out," Flick ordered and Sadie peeked up to see her mentor's brat working on something at Flick's desk.

Dare huffed. "First, it's sit your arse on this mat and do your homework, then it's -" He trailed off, tone changing to concern. "Hey, Sadie, what's wrong, biscuit?"

Wordlessly, she held up the yellow slip.

He smiled encouragingly. "Feels like the end of the world, huh. Good girl like you carrying a punishment slip home for daddy. Only yellow though, so I bet you can argue your way out of it."

"Darius, I said out, this is between me and my mentoree."

"Sorry, daddy's not your kink, I know," Dare said carelessly as he headed for the door to the common area. "But it's your fault if I don't finish my homework."

"I'll be sure to let Skelp know I prevented you by not letting you use a room somewhere you don't live, on the day before it was due, when you had a full week to do it."

"Be nice to biscuit," Dare said and shut the door.

Sadie had no idea why he called her that. It was either an insult, a challenge or affectionate. Which covered all the bases. The first time Keen had heard it, he'd gone off, assuming it had been aimed at him with an implied 'ginger' in front of it. Darius had, naturally, escalated the situation until Indira and Marshall had hauled each boy into separate rooms by their ears. She'd only heard smacking from the Indira and Dare side, but both of them had given a relatively subdued apology after.

Flick leaned against the edge of his desk and held out his hand. "Punishment slip, please, Sadie." He had very big hands. At least two of the wall paddles were actually smaller.

She gave it to him and watched him read it before asking, "What did Dare mean only yellow?"

"Any punishment slip means one of two things. Either you were already too sore to take the planned discipline or the teacher wants a second opinion on if you deserve it at all. From someone who knows you better as an individual. Take a seat."

Keen had really pulled his hits, there wasn't any discomfort when she sat just half an hour after class ended. So it had to be the second opinion. A glimmer of hope.

"Then there's an escalation based on colour. Green is a warning, only someone on zero tolerance already can expect a spanking if they bring home a green. Yellow is my choice. Beyond signing it, I'm not required to take any action. Pink, I either do it or I give a valid reason why not. Red is non-negotiable. I either administer the required punishment and present the student for examination to prove I did or I'm up at assembly for six of the best. Fail to fulfil a red a second time and it's likely I'd be asked to resign as your mentor. Reds are very rare though, since you need to basically be causing serious trouble when you're already feeling the effects of a severe punishment. Darius has earned seven in all his time here and he's very proud of them."

Sadie relaxed a very little. "The ones from orientation were pink."

"Yeah, which is how Regina spotted Keen's forgery attempt. The actual signature was accurate enough." He gave her a smile that made her feel like not all hope was lost. "How about you tell me what you said to get an accusation of insubordination and then I can work out if I'm spanking you or feeding you lactose free ice cream."

Her return smile was hesitant but genuine. "I told Wiel he should have specified that he meant OTK when he asked if we knew how to administer a hand spanking. Then I knew the answer to his example of something we couldn't possibly know yet." She felt her smile widen. "Which is really your fault, sir, with your spurtles."

Flick snorted. "If you smirked like that when you said it, he might have a point."

Sadie forced the corners of her mouth down. "I wasn't. I was too upset about him accusing me of lying to get out of going over Keen's knee."

"You got paired with Keen?" Flick raised an eyebrow. "I can see how you'd be uncomfortable about that."

She shook her head. "I wasn't trying to get out of it, I just wanted to be taught before I had to prove I could do it."

He nodded. "Honestly, fair. Sounds like you need ice cream and sympathy."

Sadie frowned. "Keen said I did sound bratty. That I usually do."

"Keen is begging for an attitude adjustment, because Marshall needs to make him worse before they can work on making him better. Take anything he says in this mood with a handful of salt," Flick told her. "And you're getting ice cream and sympathy. No arguments."

Her mouth fell open. "But ..."

"You didn't intend to be rude. I know you a lot better than he does and I think you asked for a reasonable clarification and he saw it as a challenge to his authority. Deal with enough brats and everything starts to look like one." He pushed away from his desk. "So, unless you'd like to start an argument with me just to prove me wrong and Wiel right? No? Then, kitchen. Now."

Sadie was turning obediently before she caught up with herself. His tone had been the toppiest he'd ever been with her and she didn't like it. "Don't talk to me like that!"

"I'm very serious about this, Burns," Flick said. "And I won't tolerate resistance any more than I would if I was putting you across my knee."

Stunned, Sadie glared up at him. His mouth twitched, giving away his amusement.

Abruptly the absurdity of what she was doing hit. She was arguing against and resisting ice cream as though it was a punishment. Sure, he was playing into it, but it was funny.

"I don't see much sympathy, sir," Sadie said, frostily.

Flick broke, grinning widely and pulling her into a hug. "You've got into that headspace of being in trouble, biscuit. Not a brat or Bottom thing, I promise, just, you've worked yourself up expecting me to punish you and now you don't know what to do with it not happening. So, I'm sympathetic and I'm not giving you an inch of wriggle room until you've got it back into your head that you are a very good girl."

"I think I'm allowed to be a little on edge about false accusations and being misunderstood!"

"Of course you are, biscuit."

He really did give good hugs, Sadie could feel her tension melting.

"Me being your mentor means you've agreed that I have final say on your punishments. Including when you don't get one. You'd already made up your mind that I was going to be just as unreasonable as Wiel and now you're just as angry as he was that you made a wrong assumption. Don't take it out on me or we'll have something I actually need to punish you for and it'll be impossible to separate from the one you were anticipating."

Let me not spank you or I'll spank you was a bizarre set up, but Sadie nodded. "I don't want ..."

"More importantly, you don't deserve." Flick moved out of the hug, leaving one arm around her shoulders. "If you ever think I've made a bad call, whichever way, tell me yellow. Open negotiation. And, yes, you can do that with your teachers as well. Not every time, but for things like today. If they ignore that, you have grounds for an official complaint."

Sadie tried to figure out her feelings. She'd taken that spanking from Keen because she'd been too stubborn to tap out. Maybe Flick would have reacted differently if she'd come back with two punishment slips, but she could have gotten out of the public part and it being Keen easily enough. She was annoyed at Wiel, but in retrospect she had to admit Keen hadn't been as much of a wanker as she'd assumed.

"I safed at Keen," she admitted. "Afterwards. When he was supposed to do aftercare."

Flick's eyebrow rose, but he opened the door for her. "Why?"

"He wasn't spanking me properly."

A big hand crashed against her bottom as she passed him and she spun to face him, horrified.

"Is that proper enough for you to accept my care, Sadie?" He was stern again and this time it wasn't a joke. "I know you're new to all this, but if I could only choose one thing to teach you, it would be responsible aftercare. When he gets home, you are going to apologise to Henry and ask if he's willing to try again. I imagine he's feeling pretty awful right now."

"He hates me! He didn't want to do it either!"

Flick steered her out of the office and towards the kitchen. "You're confusing want and need again. Did you get any aftercare at all?"

Joshua pounced, pushing his way under Sadie's arm for an awkward hug. "Hi!"

She gave him a squeeze, feeling more settled just by him being there again. "Hi, Joshua. Keller gave me a hug, sir."

Flick beamed across the kitchen at Keller who shrugged a self-conscious shoulder.

"Keller's mean," Joshua claimed as Sadie sat down at the table. He took the chair next to her, but only after eyeing her knee like he might be brave enough to sit there. "He said I was an awful wriggly brat."

Leaning against the partition wall, Keller shook his head. "I think my exact words were 'I've caught an awfully wriggly brat. What do we do with awfully wriggly brats? We give them big cuddles.'" He looked embarrassed. "It sounded better at the time."

Sadie politely didn't laugh. "And were you being an awfully wriggly brat, Joshua?"

The boy nodded. "Duh."

She noticed Alby was gone from the sofa, probably at his playdate.

Lamb squeezed into the kitchen too. "How come I don't get cuddles for being wriggly?"

Keller rolled his eyes, but let Lamb lean back against him. "Because grinding your arse isn't as cute as actual squirming. And if you try that now, I'll heat your bottom for you."

Flick closed the freezer.

Lamb tried it.

Flick found the ice cream scoop.

Lamb was bent over the table. Keller held his wrists against the small of his back in one hand.

"You could've had a nice hug, Reuben. Instead we're doing this." Keller was all business about it, lifting his hand and letting it do the talking.

Joshua winced and leaned closer to Sadie. "Thanks for today, ma'am. It was really nice."

She put an arm around his shoulders as Flick put a bowl of ice cream in front of her. The vegan mint choc chip that he only had in his freezer for her and had threatened to paddle anyone else who touched it.

Dare looked up from his laptop at the other end of the table. Sadie noticed he'd grabbed the yellow punishment mat for his chair. The one left in the office had only been green. He smirked at the smacking Lamb was getting and shuddered at Sadie's ice cream. "I don't know how you can eat that stuff, Burns."

"With a spoon," she retorted and started.

"Get it near me and with a spoon is how I'll react," Dare grumbled. He winked though, to let her know he was mostly teasing.

It wasn't a surprise when Flick put one of Joshua's treat fruit jellies on the table too. Or that he started slicing cheese and apple for Keller and put the kettle on for one of Lamb's astonishingly spicy pot noodles.

Dare glanced in the direction of the cupboard that held his fancy bars of white chocolate, but didn't say anything.

Keller patted Lamb's arse. "Up, Reuben. Let's try this again without the bratting."

Lamb pushed himself off the table and back into Keller's embrace. They looked a bit ridiculous, both having similar builds, but Lamb being a few inches taller.

Sadie was glad she didn't have to work out the logistics of hugging Lamb. Or putting him over her knee. Joshua was the next shortest and it was still awkward to handle him. He had around three inches on her 5'3 and Sadie couldn't have both her feet flat on the floor and a stable lap on most chairs. Flick was almost a full foot taller. At least eleven inches.

"No," Dare said, completely calm. "Not until I've finished this essay."

Flick kissed the top of his head and left the few squares of chocolate on the plate next to his brat.

"Nicholas!" Dare scowled at him.

"Don't eat them if you don't think you deserve a reward, love."

"You're my Top. You're supposed to be my restraint, since my self-restraint is so lacking." Dare popped a square of chocolate, white with visible raspberry seeds, into his mouth and closed his eyes to enjoy it better.

Flick smiled fondly at him, while he couldn't see and pretend to be offended. "I'm restricting you to just that much before dinner. Without me you'd eat an entire bar and feel too sick for a meal. Restraint doesn't mean no room to move at all."

Joshua rested his head on Sadie's shoulder. "It hurts when I sit," he told her in a whisper, sounding completely content. "Like half that spanking was right on my sit spots. You're mean."

'Mean' seemed to translate to 'brilliant' in Joshuaspeak so Sadie didn't argue.

About halfway through her bowl of ice cream Keen got home. He took off his shoes as soon as he was through the door. Flick caught himself starting towards him to remind him to do so and leaned back against the counter, watching this unprecedented level of respect for the rules.

The first thing Sadie noticed was that the stop badge was missing from his blazer. The second thing was the slight limp. Marshall had finally done it then.

Keen's defiant glare was with red-rimmed eyes.

Lamb opened his mouth and Keller shut it for him. "One rude comment, Reuben, and we'll be taking a walk down to the river for a nice willow switch."

"Oh, good," Dare said. "That one's ready to play without the training wheels. Come here, Keen."

He considered his two potential routes and chose to squeeze past Joshua, Sadie and Flick rather than get within groping distance of Lamb. "Sir?" Keen asked, expression blank.

"We'd like to see the damage, Keen. See, I'm willing to offer you a little sympathy for having a shit day, if you're sufficiently chastised for once."

"I don't need your sympathy, sir."

Dare smiled, suspiciously open. "No, Keen, you don't. But maybe you'd like it."

Sadie stood up, her chair scraping horribly loudly. "Henry? I'm sorry for safewording out of aftercare earlier. It wasn't fair on either of us and I'd like it if we could try again. Please?"

Keen's eyes narrowed at both of them. The way the kitchen fit into the wall - with Flick's office and bedroom on the other side - he was trapped in a corner between Dare and Sadie with no way out.

"I don't need your pity either, Burns. No we can't try again."

Dare stood up, wincing a little at the transition off the punishment mat. "Keen, you've been a bit out of the loop what with having your very own weasel to shield your bottom, but there's a way we deal with naughty little boys with sore bums around here. Hug Burns and make up, then present your well-spanked arse to Flick for arnica. Or you can present your well-spanked arse to me for another round before you get the arnica anyway."

For a moment, Sadie thought Keen was going to pick that option, then he turned to her. His expression was stiff and distant, but he pulled out a chair and sat with a wince. "Well, Burns?"

Sadie sighed and awkwardly sat on his knee. It definitely hurt him more, but something made him relax. He hugged her, arms making a wide circle around her waist like he was trying to minimise contact.

With another sigh, Sadie leaned in, hugging him back. "Thanks for going easy on me," she whispered, almost hoping he wouldn't hear either.

Another tiny amount of relaxation. "It wasn't because it was you," he hissed. "It's just shit to spank half the class for fuck all reason. None of you deserved it."

That was a reason Sadie could understand. If she'd got someone other than Joshua, one of the brats who had burst into tears for example, she'd have been classified one of the 'liars'. A handful of the brats had set about earning it, but she really didn't think she could have punished someone just because she was told to. Not for anything.

After a moment she felt the tension returning. "Are you okay?"

"My arse hurts and you're sitting on it too." Henry scowled as though it hadn't been his idea to hug like that.

Sadie got up quickly. "I hope he didn't ... it wasn't because of me."

"Don't be so self-centred, Burns." Henry stood up with a sigh of relief. "It wasn't even a punishment. More like Lamb's little encounter with Birch's cane." He swivelled to smirk at Joshua. "Had a taste of that yet, Tatham? The one in his hand or the one in his -"

Dare's hand caught Keen's arsecheek with an alarming thwack.

Sadie moved out of their way, ending up next to Dare's laptop.

"Marshall's doing you by the book, Keen," Dare said, because apparently it was fine when he brought out the innuendos. "So, unless you want me to speed up the process by taking you all the way to red tonight, you're going to go to your room, pull down your pants and wait."

"You wouldn't," Keen said, not sounding certain.

"Lesson one of Applied Discipline. Never make a threat you wouldn't follow through on. Of course, you could pull them down right here and we can all watch you getting cream rubbed nice and firmly into that sore bottom?"

Keen swallowed and edged away from Dare, making a point not to turn his back on him.

Flick gave him a quick hug as he tried to slip by. "You know it isn't as bad as he's pretending, kid. Darius just thinks a cool, soothing layer of arnica is actual torture."

"It's cold," Dare complained. "If you kept it anywhere but the fridge ..."

"We can move a tube into the freezer just for you, love?"

Keen jerked out of Flick's hug as Dare gaped in offended betrayal. He stalked off towards his room, flipping Lamb off when the other brat cleared his throat. Keller gave Lamb a warning swat, but he had plausible deniability so the willow trees were safe for the time being.

Sadie frowned. There was something off about Dare's essay. She tried to read a line and it immediately clicked. It was in Italian. What had registered as odd was the occasional accent on a vowel that just didn't happen much in English. Cliché was the only example she could immediately think of.

Hadn't he said it was for Skelp, though?

Dare caught her eye and, smirking a little, raised a finger to his lips.

A few days later an email was sent alerting all students to an update in the official guidelines for coursework submission. All assignments, unless specified otherwise in the brief or relating to a course taught entirely on another language, must be written in English.

A few days after that the word 'modern' was added in front of the 'English'. Dare couldn't take credit for that part.

Chapter Text

The common room was quiet as Lamb snuck out of his room and down the hall to Keen's. He went via the kitchen, slipping an undecorated wooden spoon into his back pocket. Best not to commit to who it was going to be used on by choosing an appropriate word. Even if it was tempting to break Henry in with a nice BRAT across his arse.

Keen's room was sandwiched between Alby and Keller. It wasn't one of the days Keller got up painfully early to go splash about in a river, but the guy was an early riser by nature, he might scold them for making a little noise, but he wouldn't be furious about it like Lamb's neighbour of Joshua. And Albert hadn't complained. Yet.

Lamb knew the code and was soon in Keen's room, closing the door with a solid click. It was fifty fifty if Keen would wake easily or sleep through anything.

There was a tiny pause in his deep, steady breathing, then it started again with a slightly different quality. Henry wasn't great at pretending to be asleep. If it had been genuine, Lamb would've left. He wasn't interested in crossing any boundaries when Keen wasn't conscious enough to refuse.

It was warm under the duvet and Lamb found Henry warmer. He spooned up behind him, a hand on his hip. Despite his sore bottom, he was wearing his usual boxers and no shirt.

"Morning, bunny," Lamb whispered.

Henry's breathing was way too fast for believable sleep, but he didn't open his eyes or respond.

If that was how he wanted to play, Lamb was happy to play along. Henry was always fun. Totally unsteady and a little naïve in that way kids who'd grown up outside the lifestyle always were, but eager to try new things. Lamb enjoyed being the more experienced one initiating him into all the ways there were to get off as a pair or a trio. And Keen was very much a topping from the bottom type, which matched Lamb's style perfectly.

They just fit together so well.

Like this, arched together, legs tangled, that metaphor became literal. Henry was close in height, but less bulky. His arse curved against Lamb's groin, their arms aligned for Lamb to hold his wrist against the mattress on the opposite side and his neck was right where Lamb could get his mouth on it.

Lamb ran his hand from Keen's wrist up to his shoulder, then down to his waist. Two fingers hooked into the side of his boxers. "Can I see, bunny? Are you still pink?"

Henry shrugged and turned a little, pushing his arse up in invitation.

The duvet had to be knocked out of the way, sliding onto the floor, and then Lamb was leaning up on his side for the best view as he pulled Henry's pants down. Henry lifted his hips to help.

He wasn't pink, but he was brown and mottled purple. Lamb hissed in sympathy. "Are you okay? The arnica should have ..."

"I bruise easily," Keen snapped. "Redhead privilege. I had two mean bastards rubbing cream in there yesterday, I don't need or want a third."

The bruises were very pretty. Lamb could check in with Marshall about what had made them later, for now he decided to trust Henry's word that he was okay.

"What's crawled up your arse?" Lamb asked, like this wasn't the normal level of hostility. Mostly he said it so he could push a finger between those bruised cheeks and rub like he was checking there wasn't anything actually up there. He was a little worried to find Henry's sphincter a little more swollen than usual, though the twitch and quiet grumble were typical. "Without enough prep?"

"Enough prep," Henry insisted. "I'm only sore there because of ..." He stopped talking abruptly.

Lamb ran through the other likely possibilities. Henry was still too much 'I am not a brat' to let anyone who hadn't promised to 'cure' him up his arse and Lamb hadn't been around to be a second partner, so not double penetration. Maybe with a dildo or a large enough one of those on its own, but Henry had said it wasn't a punishment, so Marshall wouldn't have messed about when he knew Henry preferred the personal touch.

"A nice thick hunk of ginger?" Lamb guessed.

Henry clenched his cheeks hard enough that Lamb knew he'd hit the mark.

"Oh, bunny. Was Marshall very mean? Did he plug your poor hole with ginger and spank you while it burned?" Lamb bore down as he said it, pressing a thick, blunt finger hard against the hole he was referring to.

Henry whimpered and nodded.

"That sounds like it was fun. Did you have fun, bunny?"

Another whimper and nod.

"I'm so glad," Lamb said and meant it completely. It was so good to see Henry embracing his submissive side a little. He was obviously still pretty down from yesterday and Lamb wasn't going to demand he got toppy at the sort of switch flicking speed Dare, Birch or Marshall could manage. That could only come from practice in both headspaces. An intimate familiarity.

"Can you get your knees under you for me, bunny? No, not upright. I want you head down, arse up."

Henry hesitated. "I'm feeling kinda too sore to bottom. Physically." He always added that specification as though Lamb and Marshall might not be able to tell when he was talking about being submissive and when he was talking about taking it up the arse. Like he still wasn't sure there was a difference.

"That's okay, bunny. That's not why I want you like that." Lamb whipped the wooden spoon out of his back pocket. "Marshall got you first and that's only right, but I'd love to be second." He trailed the bowl of the spoon along the line of Henry's crack. "And I expect once you step out that door wearing your worst attitude as usual, you're going to discover a whole university of Tamers clamouring for the privilege of spanking these sweet cheeks."

"I- If you don't shut up I'll ... Well, I'd threaten to fig you, but I bet you'd just love that." Henry squirmed, but he was pushing up, not cringing away.

"Mm, yeah, I would. And if you're not into the burn, you can always wear a condom when you -"

"Shut up!" Keen snapped, loud enough that Lamb really hoped Keller had decided to go for an early morning jog.

"You brought the topic up," Lamb pointed out. "But sure, no more about that. Would you take position for your spanking, please?"

Keen obeyed, seething as though Lamb was somehow forcing him. Once he was settled he said, "End of this week, we'll get our first chance to pass the disciplinary licence and then I'll have permission to punish any brat on campus without supervision. I've been eyeing this weeping willow down by the river for a switch for you."

"Looking forward to it, bunny," Lamb said. Like, he'd given permission for Keen to use implements on him, but he really couldn't fault him for wanting to wait until he was fully qualified. That was some real gentlemanly responsible topping.

Keen glared over his shoulder at him. "You're a lost fucking cause, Lamb. Impossible to punish because you just get off on it. Freak."

Lamb smirked. "You need another lesson on not kinkshaming, bunny?" Aw, he was asking for it like a real brat. So cute.

"Fucking do it then," Henry demanded, hiding his face again. "I'll even get up at the arsecrack of dawn to attend assembly and watch your caning for punishing me without a licence."

"Funny thing." Lamb smacked the bowl of the spoon against his palm to make Henry jump. "Did you know that Beaton College has a very similar test for upper sixth Tops who mentor the lower sixth students? And that prior qualification is considered sufficient to automatically get a disciplinary licence at Bratford?"

"Great. So what? You're a Bottom."

"Mhm, but there's no actual rule forbidding Bottoms from attempting that test, it's just that very few pass." Lamb popped the spoon down on him with a very satisfying thwack. "I did."

"You didn't!"

Lamb fished his student card from his blazer pocket and tossed it onto the pillow where Keen could see. Sure enough there was the little paddle symbol in the lower right corner that indicated authority to spank.

Keen stared at it in horror. "You can't."

"I've been technically authorised to spank your bottom since you got your Brat designation, Keen," Lamb informed him. "We could be total strangers and, now that Marsh has set you free, I could take you out to the main entrance, bare your bum right next to the statue of the Unrepentant Brat and colour match your cheeks with your blush."

"You can't," Henry repeated, putting a hand on the bed and pushing up like he was considering making a break for it."

Lamb grabbed the back of his neck to discourage that. He wasn't Keller. Early morning runs were for genuine masochists. "I wouldn't run if I wer- actually I would, because I'm not ashamed of being a brat, but I'm bigger, stronger and faster and even if you do give me the slip, I have Marshall on speed dial and I reckon he'll find me spanking you really hot. So, it's entirely your choice if we do it here, safe and cosy in your bed, or wherever we find you. Your bare bottom getting roasted in public. Again."

With a frustrated sob, Henry went limp. "Why do you sadistic bastards have to talk so damn much?"

A nice crisp smack of spoon on bottom. "Because you're just as pretty squirming in anticipation as you are doing a little dance to cope with your sore bottom. And you know what to say to get me to stop. Red if you don't want it, yellow to negotiate less verbal torture."

"Yellow," Keen snapped. "Shut your mouth and get on with it."

Lamb whined, as quietly as he could manage. Fuck it was hot when Keen got bossy and demanding. Once he got more confidence with it, he and Marshall were going to be a deadly match up. Switches were the best in Lamb's experience. No one tortured better than a masochist.

"Yes, sir," Lamb said. He let the spoon continue the conversation. Each smack was telling Henry he was safe to struggle, allowed to feel and he could have the things he asked for. He didn't go at full strength, very aware of the bruising, but he wasn't aiming to purely titillate either. Someday very soon he needed to give Henry a light, fun spanking and see if he couldn't turn him on.

Once Keen had reined in his bratting enough that his bottom wasn't in constant peril.

It wasn't long before Henry was crying. Leeching his frustration and anger at the ways he considered his dynamic a betrayal of himself. He was like a feral cat, swiping his claws at anyone who tried to help because all he saw was the cage of the carrier they were trying to get him into so a vet could treat his infected wound.

Lamb's heart ached for him, even as his body responded to the show of vulnerability and pain. Sadism was a tricky one to balance with his submission, but he'd had years to reconcile them. Keen had had weeks to reconcile his opposite natures. He trusted he'd get there, with time and patience and a lot more sore arses.

When Henry stopped being able to cry quietly, Lamb moved on to the wind down, layering them with special focus on Henry's sit spots.

Eventually he was tapping the spoon with no real force and stopped, bringing Henry out of the punishment gradually rather than the shock of full strength to nothing.

Lamb waited, spoon set aside and hand rubbing soft circles over the skin he'd just spanked. He didn't say anything until there was a hitch in the crying and it quieted again. "You needed that, didn't you, bunny? Get all the naughtiness out now and you can be a very good boy for your debut as a Bratford student."

"Been a student," Henry sniffled.

"Not the way the rest of us have. People have been respecting your stop badge. With that gone, I'm afraid your little bum is in an awful lot of danger from all sorts of directions. You've been in all Top classes, but my Bratting modules have more than a few kids who haven't stopped wincing since the start of term." Lamb gave him a firm pat on the bum. "Welcome to the transition period. I expect you're going to be one of the difficult ones who needs to stay solidly red for about a month before you work out how not to get into trouble."

"A month," Henry said, utterly horrified. "I can't ..."

"It could be worse. You could be stepping into that phase your first year at Beaton and facing a month of canings." Lamb sighed in fond reminiscence, though he hadn't felt that way about it at the time. He'd wanted to brat and at every turn there was Warner, a prefect or a teacher ready to tug him into the nearest empty classroom for the swift administration of justice to his poor hindquarters.

On the plus side, once it had got out that he was 'up for anything' there had been Tops at half those corners ready to tug him into the nearest empty classroom for a quick, hard buggering. The most fun were the prefects where he could never be sure which it was going to be. Best of all were both.

He wouldn't trade Henry to go back there, though. Nearly all the kids at Beaton were legacy; confident and content with their dynamics already and just looking for something to play with until they got to Canebridge or Topford and found the sweet, submissive wife or husband who they could make the next generation of Beaton bastards with. Too much risk of 'oh your mum scened with my mum back in the day' and awkward family dinners with the in-laws if you got shacked up properly at Beaton.

Aaron and Warner had had that exact horrified realisation, but it had worked out because Aaron's parents were divorced and Warner's were both Tops with a space in their hearts and bed for a rekindled romance. Lamb thought it was sweet. Aaron and Warner thought he should be gagged and spanked whenever he mentioned it. So he mentioned it often.

Henry shifted, stretching out his legs and groaning as it also stretched his sore glutes. "Clearly that didn't teach you shit."

"Didn't break me," Lamb corrected. "I learned a lot. You'll notice I'm pacing myself, taking only as much as I can handle and picking my targets carefully. For example, what do you even get out of being rude to Joshua when there aren't any Tops around?"

"I get him to piss off or stop being so bloody happy about everything." Henry cautiously rolled onto his back, eyeing the spoon with the suspicion of someone who had had enough, but thought there might be more available.

Lamb ran his eyes over Henry's body, pausing on his pebbled nipples and tragically soft cock. He crawled over to sit at Henry's feet and properly remove his boxers from where they'd scrunched around his knees. "You see Joshua's happiness as a threat. His confidence in his dynamic." He could have been talking about himself.

"Easy to be happy when you'd really enjoy some sicko sneaking into your bedroom at -" Henry lifted his head to check the time. "- fucking six am to tan your arse with a bloody spoon."

"I definitely didn't draw blood," Lamb told him, running his hands up his legs. "And feel free to return the favour any time. Morning wood is so lonely when you have no one staying the night."

Keen huffed. "You're giving me mixed signals, Lamb. You, what, bent me over for a spanking because you want me to Top you?"

"Bingo." Lamb pulled each of Henry's legs up to bent and slotted himself between his knees, spreading him wide. "I'm wooing you. Courting. I'd have brought flowers, but a wooden spoon is so much more our style."

"You're insane."

Lamb gave him a flurry of hand smacks to the back of his thighs and sit spots. "That's some abelist language, bunny, and I won't have you speaking like that. You've learned some very bad habits growing up vanilla and now we have to teach you to appropriately mouth off."

Henry tried to squirm away, but Lamb wasn't going to allow that without a safeword. He pulled him back by his hips.

"It's okay, bunny. No one told you it was wrong before, so how could you know? But there are things you say that you definitely know aren't appropriate, aren't there?"

"I ... Yeah," Henry admitted, turning his head so he didn't have to look directly at Lamb. "I'm gonna really get it for those now, huh?"

"I expect you're going to get your mouth washed out very thoroughly, bunny, it's not just spanking that badge has protected you from." Lamb braced over him so he could kiss the side of that mouth. "You'll get there. You'll learn to have as much fun with your bratting as Joshua and when it's time to put the attitude aside and get serious."

"And how to top?" Henry sounded like he wasn't sure anyone would bother. He could understand the part where he was forced to conform to whatever new laws of etiquette were required by the culture he found himself in, but he didn't see how anyone else benefitted by making him more powerful and confident.

"I'll be very upset if you can't handle me, bunny," Lamb told him, framing it in the selfish way Henry found easiest to believe. "I need very rough handling and I'm available whenever you decide to take what you want."

"If I wasn't around you'd be begging for Flick's cock or Keller's strap on," Henry accused, but his eyes were on the outline of Lamb's dick through his trousers.

Lamb sat up and shrugged off his blazer, suddenly unable to cope with being fully dressed while he had a beautiful man completely naked under him. "Right now, I think you need waking up before you can fuck me like you're trying to spank me with your hips, but I'm not putting my mouth anywhere you don't order me to."

Keen scowled at him. "If my dick isn't halfway down your throat in two minutes, I'll tell Marshall you need the teaser chastity belt today."

That wasn't bad. The threat was outsourcing punishment to another Top, but it was nice and specific and something Lamb wanted to avoid. That particular belt came with a tiny plug to line up with his hole, just big enough to stretch his rim and remind him what he wasn't getting.

Lamb rewarded Henry's topping with another "yes, sir," and immediate obedience.

Chapter Text

Birch dragged a chair that normally stood in the corner of the Schoolroom Society and Mortarboards' meeting room to the front of their fortnightly semicircle and propped his foot on the lower rung. He leaned on his knee, pinning them all with a gaze that made Joshua's stomach flutter.

Despite his role as the president of the Schoolroom Society, he was in full Mortarboard robes and, of course, mortarboard. Chalk wore them with more natural command, Birch usually had the air that he'd borrowed his boyfriend's clothes when he put one on, preferring to run his sessions in a sweater vest, but today he'd borrowed the attitude to match.

He didn't need to borrow the pointer he wore at his hip like a sword.

"It has been brought to my attention, hard, with a paddle, that certain members of my society have been playing a game. Now, we covered this at the first meeting of the term, so perhaps some of you have had time to forget, but Shave and a Haircut tapped onto the door of an in use roleplay suite is a safeword. Not a variation on Ding Dong Ditch."

Next to Joshua, Edward Lawrence raised his hand. "Why'd you get paddled if they knew it wasn't you?"

Birch gave him a Look that Joshua thought might have made him actually implode if it had been directed a little to the left. "Chain of responsibility, Lawrence. It's my job to keep my brats in order. It's also my job to pass on any consequences I get for your bad behaviour. Now, none of you were recognised, just your Schoolroom uniforms, but with the descriptions given we're pretty certain we know."

Joshua's breath caught. He'd known they'd be in trouble for it, but it had just been a bit of fun. Not, like, safeword abuse.

"Since everyone we identified is a first year, we're not treating it as a caning offence. Against my recommendation," Birch told them, taking a list of names out of his pocket and smoothing it against his knee. "But in future, we'll be treating that sort of messing about as the same as yelling red in the middle of a group scene because you thought it would be funny."

A fourth year brat shifted uncomfortably.

"This time, the Mortarboards have kindly agreed to help deal with this situation. I will read out two names; the student to be punished and the Top who will administer that punishment. Tops, I hope you all remembered to bring a hairbrush?"

The same fourth year who had shifted, another Switch, raised his hand.

Birch pulled a hairbrush out of his pocket and tossed it to him. "Come prepared next time, Whipple. Report to me after the meeting for a reminder."

It surprised Joshua that Chalk hadn't been the one to give that order. Birch was only a third year and Whipple was a member of both societies. But Birch was the ringleader of the circus today and Chalk just waited in the chair next to him, a silent support.

"If your name is on this list and you weren't part of it, safeword," Birch told them. "That's the sort of thing they're for." He didn't add any sort of warning against lying, trusting their consciences to work. "If your name isn't on this list and you were part of it ... Well, it's up to you what you do about that."

Joshua was suddenly certain that if his name wasn't there, he'd be raising his hand to confess. He couldn't watch the others punished and know he deserved the same and not get it.

Holding up the list, Birch began reading. "Lawrence, Chalk."

Even with his twin brother, Thomas, seated on the other side of him, there was no doubt the right Lawrence was Edward. That was the one who winced and took hesitant steps towards the infamously heavy-handed Mortarboard president.

Joshua was relieved it wasn't him facing Chalk. Edward had enough attitude that it made sense to hand him to the toppiest Top available, but there wasn't a trace of that attitude as he stood at Chalk's side.

Birch continued reading, but all Joshua's focus was on Edward as Chalk tipped him over his knee. The side buttons of his trousers were undone one handed as Chalk mostly looked at Edward's head and back, soothing him with quiet words. Edward threw both his hands back when the drop seat was folded over, baring him from waist to thigh. 

Calmly, Chalk gathered his wrists in a large hand and held them firmly up against his back. Edward was wearing a jock strap, but that left his bottom vulnerable and the cheeks bore the faint pinkness of a recent spanking already.

Joshua was so focused on Edward's predicament that he almost missed Birch's "Tatham. To me."

Of course. It couldn't be an easy assignment, someone who Joshua had barely interacted with and would give him his punishment neutrally. It had to be Birch.

He stood up slowly.

Birch frowned, but his attention wasn't on Joshua. "Whittaker?"

The girl swallowed. "I ... I should be on that list, sir."

His expression immediately shifted to an encouraging smile. "Good girl. Go to Nettles, please."

Whittaker nervously crossed to Naomi Nettles, an older Switch who Joshua couldn't look at without thinking of the day of orientation when she'd been up against the wall and completely on display. He'd later learned that Birch had put her there.

"Tatham," Birch said, sharply. "To me or I'll double your lines."

Someone groaned quietly.

"We're getting lines too?" Lawrence asked, Chalk's hairbrush already resting on his bottom ready to start.

Joshua hurried over to Birch, then hesitated. He was still sort of standing.

Birch spun the chair, revealing the word DISCIPLINE carved in raised letters across the seat. Then he sat down, hissing and wriggling a little as the ridges dug into his sit spots. Just how recently had the paddling happened?

"Yes, lines too," Birch confirmed, then Joshua was being tipped easily, landing across his knee in a controlled fall that still made him feel like he'd just jumped out of a plane.

He also felt guilty, trying to get himself back on his feet to keep the pressure off Birch's bottom.

A hard swat landed across Joshua's backside.

"What are you playing at, Tatham?" Birch asked, pinning him down with an arm across his back.

"I can bend over instead," Joshua offered. "Over a desk or a chair or just over ..."

Birch laughed softly. "I'm fine. This is tradition, Tatham. When a leader of one of our societies has to administer official discipline, they take a seat right here and get a lovely reminder of their responsibility."

"Really, Brandon should be dealing with you each in turn while seated in that chair," Chalk added. "Official society guidelines list shirking that responsibility as a caning offence."

"Dom!" Birch spluttered, quickly undoing Joshua's side buttons. "Six - seven with the addition of Miss Whittaker - spankings would take more than the time we have available for this meeting and we have other business on the agenda."

Joshua shivered at the sensation of air on his cheeks. He'd adopted the brat fashion for underwear that covered the important parts, but left his buttocks exposed and vulnerable. There had been a dizzying array of options in Spencer and Marks and the lace and ribbons had been just as present on the ones cut to hold a dick. The satiny green he was wearing was the most feminine garment he owned and it gaped awkwardly at the front when he didn't have his packer in.

There was something exciting about breaking his own concept of masculine. If he wouldn't judge a cis man, for example Dare in his occasional 'I have a sore arse' skirt, for wearing something pretty, maybe Joshua was allowed to too. Cute underwear was an experiment.

One Joshua really should have guessed would be shown to the entire world.

"You're learning, Tatham," Birch said approvingly. "If you don't want your pants pulled down or up, nice and snug into your crack, you keep those cheeks bare." He patted them with a hand.

Joshua whined, then thought he might die of embarrassment. Ahead of him, he had a really great view of Edward Lawrence's bottom over Chalk's knee. Behind him, he knew Lea Hissier was getting an eyeful of his bottom from over Soaper's. It was really very mean to line them up to watch the colour blooming on the brat in front and feel the same happening behind.

He'd sort of hoped he'd be assigned to Elly - Miss Soaper when she topped - since she'd spanked him before for real, but all the match-ups had been same gender. Even deeper he'd hoped he'd get Birch, but that came with a huge amount of fear that he'd humiliate himself somehow.

Probably by being so into it he soaked through his underwear. Joshua's one relief about his anatomy was that he didn't have to worry about popping a boner while over someone's Birch's lap.

Where he'd been before, but only when he worked up the courage to shyly ask for a nice spanking.

The smooth wood of the hairbrush settled on his bottom and Joshua whimpered as quietly as he could. It wasn't going to be a nice spanking.

He'd been naughty.

"Let me impress on you all the importance of safewords," Birch said. "Crying wolf is both disrespectful and distasteful. Brats, which you all are, with a history of safeword abuse, risk either having no one willing to top them or their genuine safewords going unacknowledged. I expect none of you considered this misbehaviour in that light, but, going forward, I want you to think through your actions. Brat responsibly. Am I understood?"

Joshua chorused 'yes, sir'' along with the others. He felt lightheaded. Maybe he'd be let off if he fainted.

Maybe he didn't want to be let off.

"I'm not setting a number," Birch told them. "You will each have different thresholds and your Tops have subtly different implements and different techniques. I want seven sore-bottomed brats taken through to surrender and it is the responsibility of each Top in this circle to get them there."

Joshua craned around to check the others. Nettles was starting with her bare hand, hairbrush held behind her back by Whittaker for when she needed it. Holt hadn't yet taken down his brat's underwear, but that thin cotton couldn't be much protection.

"Begin," Birch ordered.

Right in front of Joshua, Chalk snapped the brush across Lawrence's backside with enough force that the brat's legs started kicking immediately and it left a dark pink smear on one cheek.

All along the line, smacks and repentant yelps.

Joshua's stomach flipped at the lack of burn in his own bottom.

Birch was a scolder.

A gentle circle rubbed with the brush so Joshua couldn't get used to it being there and Birch's voice low, just for him. "I'd say I was disappointed, sunshine, but I'd be lying. Disappointed in your actions, yes, but I can't say I'm sorry to have your lovely little bottom over my knee for something real. What were you thinking? Because I doubt it was just messing with people sounds like fun."

Chalk spanked fast as well as hard. Edward's bottom was splotched with brush imprints already and his wailing was the loudest sound in the room.

Birch tapped the brush with no real force. "That wasn't rhetorical, boy."

Face burning, Joshua answered with the truth. "I thought someone would catch me and ... you know!"

The first real hit with the hairbrush was measured, but still enough to take Joshua's breath away. "I caught you, little brat. Which means I get to claim the privilege of turning you red."

Another smack, close enough to the sensation Joshua liked to get his wires crossed and start enjoying it. Then another and another and each harder than the last as Birch tested his limits. Joshua twitched and struggled slightly, but it wasn't until one that made him swear softly that Birch spoke again.

"And it's such a privilege. Unlike the rest, I got to decide who I wanted to discipline and I chose you."

Apparently he'd decided that last one was the right strength, because he followed that statement with five blistering smacks. Joshua was just relieved they weren't getting any worse. That it wasn't one of Birch's enthusiastic canings he was facing.

Having a ridiculous crush on a guy he knew would immensely enjoy giving him a six of the best that would stay sore for days wasn't the wisest choice, but Joshua couldn't help it. Birch's smooth voice, his stern but playful demeanour, how unapologetic he was about being himself. And, sometimes, when he was over Birch's lap for fun or called up in a group scene or Birch called him sunshine, Joshua could almost think he felt the same.

"You already had my attention, sunshine, all this naughtiness is going to get you is a very sore bottom. Is that what you were after?"

"N-no," Joshua lied, feeling as though he had a glowing target painted on his arse as the hairbrush cracked down again and again.

"So, you wanted to be caught and spanked, but you don't want a sore bottom? That's not very believable, Joshua. That's four extra at the end for lying."

Joshua sobbed once as the brush tapdanced across his backside and down to his sit spots, where it performed a rapid solo. Then an encore. Then his thighs felt the sting.

He shifted his hips, but Birch had him tight around the waist. "Uh uh, little boy. You're getting exactly what you asked for. Remember, you have to ask before you get. And I'm ready to hold you accountable whenever you want. It's nice to see you playing with your friends, even if this particular game is utterly unacceptable. But bring that energy to our roleplays and you'll be very popular."

In front of Joshua, Lawrence gave one last huge kick, then lay still, crying pitifully. Chalk didn't stop. His rhythm synched with Birch's and Joshua felt as though he was feeling the ten mighty swats Chalk applied to Lawrence's sit spots before calling it enough.

Birch hadn't reached anywhere close to enough. "You're taking this very well, sunshine boy. If I could have more brats who were this well-behaved once they got across my knee, I'd be a very happy Top. You know just what you deserve and I'm very proud of you for trusting me to provide it."

The brush returned to Joshua's buttocks with a vengeance, working its way over the curves like it was in a hurry to get to the next place.

The other side of Lawrence, Abhay flopped like a landed fish over Holt's lap. His pants had been pulled down at some point and were wrinkled around his thighs as he desperately flailed.

Beyond that a rich red bloomed over Batten's bum. Joshua felt a bit jealous of her, she didn't have to watch anyone else getting it. But all she had to look at was their audience. At least Joshua could be very certain he wasn't alone in having his hindquarters toasted.

"Whipple, we aren't letting them out of position until they're all finished," Birch raised his voice unexpectedly and that, of all that had happened, made Joshua flinch. "Get Blume back down and on display. His scarlet bottom is a message for everyone and I want it witnessed."

The hand wrapped around Joshua gently petted his elbow as Birch softened and quietened his tone to the intimate one he'd been using before. "Sorry, Joshua, I didn't mean to startle you." The hairbrush continued rising and falling as though that wasn't a horrendous shock every single time it impacted. "If I had my way, our first real punishment would be you and me in my study and all the time in the world to take you exactly as far as you'd like to go."

It was getting harder to interpret his words as those of a neutral, professional, aloof society president.

"But you were naughty in a group, while all in outfits that marked you as a member of my society." His voice rose to address the whole group again. "When you wear the Schoolroom uniforms or the Mortarboard robes, you represent this community, this pair of groups. The impression you give to people outside our society will colour their impression of us as a whole. That is why I was disciplined for your actions. In those clothes, you are the Schoolroom Society. And I am the face - and, when necessary, arse - of that group."

Joshua giggled. It wasn't that funny, but, in his defence, it had just gotten through to him that his crush was hinting that he should maybe ask him out.

Birch paused in his tanning of Joshua's arse, then, with a lurch, Joshua found himself tipping forward, putting his hands out to stop himself from landing on his face, even though the grip around his waist was firm.

His sit spots rose, stretching tighter and being placed for even more convenient access.

"Is something amusing, Tatham?" Birch asked. "Are you laughing at the fact I received a paddling for your mischief?"

Joshua had screwed it up completely. A moment ago he'd been Birch's boy, taking a punishment, but very much claimed and wanted. "No. Sir. I'm sorry."

"Well? Something clearly amused you. Is this not hard enough to get through to you?"

"It was the way you said you were our arse, sir! It sounded like a joke."

"Oh. So, your insubordination is my fault?" Birch's tone was slightly more playful. "I mean, that was a joke. Maybe I should be asking everyone else why they didn't laugh."

Joshua relaxed a little.

"Though if the only person not taking me completely seriously is the one over my lap, I must not be hitting hard enough." Birch corrected his error with a smack to Joshua's stretched undercurve that made his eyes water.

A few more of those and the water became tears. Not wails like Lawrence, but a release response that left Joshua clear-headed.

"Is that better, boy?" Birch waited like he genuinely wanted an answer.

Joshua became very aware that all the others had finished spanking and they were all just waiting on him to surrender. "Yes, sir," he replied. "Very, uh, painful. Nine out of ten."

"And what would make it a ten out of ten, Tatham?"

"Um, you getting on with it, sir?"

There were a few quiet giggles around the room and Joshua grinned to himself. He'd never had the courage to be the class clown at school, but he'd always envied those who were and did.

"Dangerous time to discover your sass, Tatham," Birch said, but he didn't hide his delight. "Next time you give me that sort of attitude, I'll see to it that you regret it without delay. My hand on your bare arse as soon as humanely possible."

Joshua gulped. Birch definitely knew about his M badge and what the hand one meant. He was as good as promising to reward some light bratting. "Understood, sir. But I'd really appreciate you getting this over with as soon as humanely possible."

The pain that seared through his sit spots convinced him that Birch had only been spanking at an eighth of his actual strength before that. At most.

With a yell, Joshua gave in to it, twisting and kicking and generally making a massive fuss. Birch held him steady, pattering the brush against his backside almost in time with Joshua's raised heartbeat.

Birch was done with the lecturing and entirely focused on making Joshua one sorry little boy. He kicked his feet up, trying to defend his bottom and got a swat on his calf that made him reconsider their suitability as shields.

Another one of those tap dances on his undercurve and Joshua went limp, sobbing out his misery at the situation. The smacks petered out, decreasing in intensity and frequency until they stopped altogether.

"I hope this is a lesson I never have to repeat," Birch told them all. "You will remain with your assigned Top for the remainder of the meeting and take what aftercare they believe necessary. Then I'll take you through to one of our scene rooms to sit on the hardest chairs ever constructed and write your lines. Your designated aftercarer will be informed and they'll pick you up afterwards."

Joshua winced. He didn't think Flick believed in getting it again at home, but he knew Flick believed in making an enormous fuss of anyone who dared to be in his presence with a sore bottom.

Mostly Dare.

"Would you like to sit up, Joshua?" Birch asked, running a soothing circle right on his reddened bum.

"No, sir," Joshua said. He really wanted that rubbing to be happening a good way lower and not to be quite as sore as he was. Not no sore, just less.

"That's okay, sunshine. You can keep providing the moonlight. A bottom as nice as this one should be kept on display. If you were mine, I don't think I'd permit you to wear trousers very often."

Joshua squirmed. "Sir!"

Birch reached for the arnica he kept in his blazer. "But that's only going to happen if you open your mouth and ask."

Practically an order. But Joshua was getting better at resisting those.

"If you like my arse so much, you ask it," he said and accepted another swat to his burning buttocks with a small grin.

"Careful, boy. I can always give you a soap tab to suck on."

Joshua wasn't quite brave enough to make the joke about sucking on something else.

Yet.

Chapter Text

"Top," Lamb told her.

Sadie peeked through her fingers at him. "You're joking."

He brandished the piece of paper she'd been too scared to read herself. "Sadie Lara Burns, Top, leaning Tamer and Caretaker. Oh, that bit's new. I blame Flick's good influence."

"But everyone says..."

"You can walk like a brat, quack like a brat and need a good hard spanking to teach you manners?" Lamb suggested lazily. "So, what? Ignore them. I clocked Keen because he was miserable and angry about his designation, like every time he got in trouble he would lash out more, overcompensating for how much better a heated bottom or stern word made him feel. You're the exact opposite, going subdued like you let yourself down."

Keen, who had decided to sit on the opposite end of the sofa to Lamb - an unprecedented closeness by his choice and with his legs stretched along to get even closer - kicked him in the side and pretended to be engrossed in his reading homework when Sadie glared at him. Lamb pulled Keen's feet into his lap and ran his finger along the middle of one sole. Keen's whole body jerked, but he didn't look up.

"Ready to find out if you've got blanket permission to smack Keen's naughty bottom into next week?" Lamb asked, picking up the other letter Sadie hadn't dared open. The results of her basic disciplinary exam.

She nodded. That one was less scary actually. They'd barely covered basic implements in her supplementary classes and she'd only had a few more live practices, one with Joshua and two with Lamb, all supervised by Flick. Failure wouldn't reflect poorly on her.

Lamb felt the envelope, bending the paper so a stiffer rectangle was visible. He grinned and ripped it open. "And pass." He gave her the enclosed student card, hers reprinted with a little paddle symbol in the corner. "You hear that, Keen? If you aren't nice to Sadie she can order you to lower your trousers and bend over. Remind me, can you do the same to her?"

"I passed too, Lamb," Keen said stiffly.

"You passed your advanced? Making you a prefect with complete disciplinary authority over any student. Which you can only take after three years of experience. Because, in case you didn't hear me earlier, she's a Top."

Keen folded down the corner of his page and put the book aside. "You know Warner. You know exactly how easy it is to spoof that test to give a result on either end of the spectrum. You did it yourself."

"No, Keen, I didn't. You're just having trouble squaring sadist with submissive."

In Sadie's experience that argument could go on indefinitely. She tuned them out quickly.

Across the room Joshua clung to Keller's arm. "Why do you have to gooo?"

"I'm not going far," Keller reminded him with a slightly puzzled smile. "And I haven't forgotten my promises to take you shopping and give you tips. I'll be right there whenever you need me."

Joshua pouted at him.

"My friend, Landon, needs more support than he was getting in a dorm," Keller explained again, calmly. "And he's nervous about moving in with Sáez solo, so I'm going with." He sighed. "Sáez would literally be my last choice out of our row crew to lay down the law, but the actual prefects have other commitments already."

'Needs more support' was code for 'causing more trouble than his bottom can take', but Landon was in Sadie's Tamer module. Pure Top, no Brat. And no one was questioning his credentials, just because he was built like a brick shithouse and did Sports.

"You're abandoning me to Keen and Lamb, you mean," Joshua argued. He sighed dramatically and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead without loosening his grip on Keller's arm.

"You like Sadie." Keller was unmoved. "And if you don't let go so I can carry my stuff out, I'll be leaving you with a sore bottom to remember me by."

Joshua grinned and clung tighter.

"You asked for it, brat," Keller said fondly and easily dragged Joshua to the nearest chair and sat down, pulling him over his lap. Joshua wriggled happily as his drop seat was undone. There was a pause, then a snap of elastic.

"Owwww!" Joshua twisted. "Kells! You're supposed to say well done for solving a problem, not use them as an implement!" Them being a pair of pants with no fabric to cover his cheeks and a tight elastic waistband which Keller had just pulled down a little and snapped across Joshua's bottom, leaving a red welt.

"That was a well done," Keller told him. "I'm very proud of you going to Spencer and Marks and buying the thing you wanted without having a meltdown, but Flick told you very clearly after last time. You're not allowed to go unsupervised. So, who went with you?"

Sadie saw Joshua's bottom clench, giving away his guilt.

"Uh, Sadie did?"

"I didn't," she said immediately. "Try again with the truth, Tatham."

Keen and Lamb looked around at her tone, going quiet like she'd told them to stop arguing instead. Huh, that was probably worth trying next time they got into it. She wasn't confident she could back a warning up if they didn't listen, but she could always tell on them to Flick.

Keen grabbed his book and buried his nose in it, definitely not reading.

"Naughty boy," Keller said. "Sadie, could you fetch a spoon from the jar, please? I think there's one that says LIAR."

Given how many spoons and spatulas there were in the jar, Sadie wasn't sure there was a four or five letter word Flick hadn't carved into one. She rummaged for a moment - SWAT, OBEY, LISTEN, NOSY, NOISY - before finding the right one and bringing it over.

"Thanks, Burns." Keller nodded, but didn't take it. "You want to start him off? Since he tried to get you to lie for him."

Joshua squirmed and threw his hands back to cover his bum. "You can't spank me for it! That's Flick's rule and he'll spank me all over again! No fair!"

"Very likely," Keller said, taking hold of his wrists and firmly dragging them out of the way. "Your poor little bottom. Sadie's going to spank you for lying, I'm going to spank you because you bratted for it and Flick is going to spank you for breaking a rule. Does that sound fair?"

Rather than keep arguing, Joshua pushed his bottom up, presenting himself better. "It was only a little lie, ma'am, so you don't need to spank hard."

Sadie stepped into position, angling herself to get the widest possible swing with the spoon. "Either I spank your bottom hard or I wash your mouth out. Your choice, Tatham."

He groaned softly, not sounding entirely unhappy. "Spanking, please."

She obliged, cracking down the spoon at a rapid, but steady pace. That first time, with Darius instructing her, she'd been astonished by how quickly Joshua turned pink. Astonished and a little aroused. Weirdly, him feeling the same way had made her feel worse about that sensation than if he'd taken it as just pain.

A few weeks later and she'd mostly moved on from that guilt. It helped to look at it as a fair trade. Sadie could look at Joshua or Lamb or even Keen and see exactly what benefits they got from discipline, but it was difficult for her to comprehend why a Top might take on that responsibility without some equivalent benefit. Like, Flick enjoyed looking after people and Keen craved control, but Sadie did it because she really liked the squirming and the begging and the marks she left behind.

"Meanie," Joshua grumbled, but he was still arching up eagerly for each hit. "You like punishing me."

"Yes, Joshua," Sadie said. "I like punishing you and you like being punished. And now we're going to be dormmates and I have my licence, I think I'm going to be punishing you a whole lot more. How does that sound?"

He turned his head so she could see his pleading expression. "Really good, ma'am!"

She was close to a mostly even coverage of pink. "Just a little more and I'll hand you back to Kells." Sadie raised the spoon again, then froze as the front door opened. Her eyes darted sideways to see Flick calmly closing the door behind him and taking in the tableau.

"Hm." Flick sounded alarmingly neutral. "Joshua, do you want to tell me what you did to end up over Keller's knee with Sadie administering the punishment?"

Sadie wasn't sure why he always said it like they had a choice not to tell him only when they specifically didn't. If it was casual and he'd accept a shrug or polite refusal to answer, he wouldn't add any of the 'do you want' or 'would you like' stuff.

"No, sir," Joshua said, pertly.

"Burns? Keller?"

Lamb stood up and went to Flick, pushing Sadie's new student card into his hand. Flick looked at it for a moment, then smiled. "Congratulations, biscuit, but you're going a little too hard for this to just be a celebration."

It was Keller that explained, detailing the rule that had been broken and the little lie he'd tried to get out of it, while Joshua squirmed in anticipation.

"Well, in that case, don't let me stop you," Flick said.

Keller cleared his throat. "Neither of us is punishing him for the unsupervised shopping trip, sir."

Flick walked over, considered the squirming bottom for a moment, then gave it a single hard clap.

Joshua squeaked in indignation.

"Maybe solo would be better," Flick said. "Since you managed it so well." His big hand soothed the sting he had just created. "Maybe the problem is having someone with you makes you feel like you need to brat and when they don't put their foot down you do things like bring home a ruler when you were specifically instructed no implements."

Keller winced. "I still think you should have warned me that I'd be feeling it too if I didn't stop him, sir."

Flick's hand clapped Keller's shoulder with a fraction of the force he'd used on Joshua. "If you're bratsitting and there's a rule you could enforce, but don't, that will get you punished too. Is that clear enough, lad?"

"Yes, sir." Keller smiled faintly as Flick rewarded him with a shoulder rub.

"Don't be afraid to lay down the law with Landon, either. I know you're worried he'll stop being your friend or refuse to respect you, but he's headed in a dangerous direction. He's still refusing a mentor and Sáez isn't going to, so he's put you in a difficult position. But I know I can trust you to do the right thing. And ask for help when you need it."

Keller leaned towards Flick for a moment, soaking up the support. "I'll try."

"That's all anyone's asking for, lad."

Sadie offered him the spoon. "Kells, your turn, I think."

Flick went into the kitchen. "Anyone want a hot drink?" he asked, picking up the kettle to refill it.

Everyone answered in the negative, except Keen who said, "Sure, coffee."

"Henry, you know my dorm policy is no high caffeine drinks after five pm," Flick reminded him. "Try again."

Keller shook his head at the spoon. "I was just gonna give him a fun one with my hand," he explained. "He's not too sore yet for it to stop being fun, are you, Josh?"

Joshua whined loudly. "All good, sir. Spank me already!"

"Demanding little boy," Keller said, but obliged. The rapid smack of his hand was echoed by Joshua's grunts and maybe moans. Enjoying it a little too much for polite company. But Albert was the only one who had an issue with it and his reaction was to leave immediately if things seemed to be going in that direction and he was having a sleepover with his Little friend Ow.

Well, Henry also acted like he had an issue with it, but always stopped short of saying he didn't want it to happen in front of him and was currently peeking over his book at the scene, watching suspiciously intently, while Lamb's hand drifted in the direction of Henry's somewhere that was even less suitable for polite company.

Sadie pretended she hadn't noticed and went to clean the spoon at the sink only to find Keen following. He reached past Flick to get the instant coffee and was pulling out the drawer for a teaspoon when Flick caught his wrist.

"Henry. I said no."

"I really don't give a fuck, sir," Keen returned. "I'm an adult and -"

Flick pushed him down against the counter, making the drawer shut too. "You're a brat, kid. And you've been testing everyone's patience while Marshall had you shielded for whatever reason he did. That protection is gone, I checked with him that he took it away, so you know precisely what's going to happen if you keep testing."

The smack of Keller's hand on Joshua's bottom really underscored that point.

Keen tried to push himself off the counter. "It's a goddamn cup of coffee, you wanker!"

"It is. And is that really worth a battle you know you'll lose?"

"You either give me coffee or I'll start a real battle with Lamb," Keen bargained. "He's on my last nerve."

"I think you meant to say a spanking not coffee," Flick corrected. "And I don't tolerate threats like that."

"Would it have been better if I'd threatened to smack your bottom if you didn't make the drink I wanted?"

Sadie dropped the spoon in the sink with a clatter, astonished that he'd dare.

"Not if you'd said it in that tone, kid." Flick pulled Keen's tracksuit bottoms down at the back, then hissed in concern. "Are you okay? That's a very sore looking bottom to be bratting on."

It really was, already crimson and extending a way down his thighs. Sadie knew she'd feel awful about her own bottom being so sore and would definitely never ask for more when it was.

Keen sagged, letting the counter support his weight. "Just smack me," he said in a tiny defeated voice. "If this isn't enough to get me to behave ..."

"Lamb!" Flick barked and the other boy startled. "If this is some game you two are playing, knock it off."

"Not me and him," Lamb said quickly. "Him and Marshall. Brat training manual step two. Finding his limit. Only, uh, he doesn't seem to have one."

Flick relaxed and gave Keen one firm pat that didn't even sound like a smack. "There we go, all forgiven. Lamb, arnica cream, now." He immediately started rubbing circles on Keen's back. "You're a good boy, Henry. Trying to obey orders. But if this is the level Marshall intended, I'm going to be visiting him with a strap."

Keen didn't respond, just let his forehead fall against the counter with a dull thud.

Over by the kitchen entrance, Joshua's spanking was finishing up with little kicks and whines for more. If anyone was having fun with bratting it was him. Like, Lamb was confident in his dynamic too, but the only person he went out of his way to antagonise was Keen.

"I don't think he expected this," Lamb said, handing over the arnica cream. "More like if it was going to take a wooden spoon or a leather strap to get him to toe the line. Not that he'd just ... keep going."

Flick nodded, uncapping the cream and squirting a generous amount onto his fingers. "Some people have a limit higher than it's safe to go." He smoothed the cream over Keen's hot, red skin to a little sigh of relief from the brat. "Take Dare. Training him would require someone willing to cane him every day for a week before he hit that no more threshold hard enough for it to stick. And someone willing to do that has no place in the lifestyle. It's okay if this technique doesn't work for you, kid. But I don't think you really want to keep pushing, do you?"

"But I do, sir," Keen whispered. "I don't want more ... uh, more punishment, but I still want to brat."

"That's okay too. You haven't quite linked the bratting with the punishment. That likely means this method will work once you're more familiar with consequences for misbehaviour," Flick reassured him. "But, why? What would you get out of being naughty?"

Keen shrugged, relaxing even more under the gentle massage to rub the cream in. "If I got anything out of it, I'd let myself do it."

Flick finished applying the cream and gave him another light swat. "Up you get, Henry. You might not be ready to admit it to me or even yourself, but there's something driving you. Working that out will help you learn real control. Can you be a good boy and think about it for me? You don't need to tell me, just think."

The first thing Keen did was yank up his trousers and the second was put the instant coffee he'd taken out of the cupboard away. Only then did he say anything. "Sure, whatever. Just go spank Tatham properly, he's desperate for it."

Chapter Text

"I'm just saying, it's pointless to try and apply dynamic labels to historical figures who existed in cultures without that sort of language, but, also, Cleopatra was a Top," Lamb concluded.

Tricia nodded indulgently, Warner rolled his eyes, Aaron kept pretending not to listen and Keen sneered. Spooner had applied for a proper mentor and Keller had moved out to babysit Landon, so Tricia's pet Freshers had almost halved in number. Lamb didn't entirely understand why she hadn't just applied as a dorm prefect. She had the requirements — a prefect badge from passing the advanced disciplinary license and enough free time — but instead she'd decided to find a group of five random first years and herd them.

Maybe because she wanted a mentoree that was trouble, but not DM worthy trouble. And a Top. Keen would've been perfect, if he hadn't pledged his butt to Marshall because he liked being called bunny. He was even doing the same degree as her. Applied Discipline. But, alas, all five contenders had fallen through and now Tricia was waiting on one to be assigned through the official channels and listening intently to the dorm prefect gossip for problem children. Apparently there was a promising contender in Regina's group.

"She could've been a brat," Keen said, like he gave a shit beyond wanting to argue against Lamb.

So cute.

Neediest brat Lamb had ever seen and utterly miserable about it. Exhibit number one; he was hanging out with Lamb's friends despite insisting he hated Lamb. Probably because he didn't really have any others, but still.

Them sleeping together didn't prove anything. Hate sex was a completely valid thing. Hate spending quality time together wasn't.

"The sort of brat who does an Applied Discipline degree," Lamb sort of agreed. "How's that going, Keen? Applied any discipline yet?"

Keen sneered at him. "I'll apply some to you if you don't shut up."

It was weird that he hadn't yet. Most of the other newly licensed tamers were on a hair trigger, looking for any excuse. Brats who'd just started to relax were back in uniform and eyeing anyone without a drop seat warily. It'd settle down again by the end of the week and brat uniforms would be gleefully abandoned once again.

Lamb leaned back slightly on the cafeteria bench, drawing attention to the fact he was sitting without discomfort. "There's no shame in discovering Applied Discipline isn't for you and is instead for your bottom, Keen. I'm sure they'd let you switch to a Bratting degree if I put in a bad word for you. Oh, sorry, a naughty word."

Still not rising to the obvious bait. Lamb wasn't sure how much more explicitly asking for it he could be without just saying it.

"My degree is fine."

"So, show me what you've learned," Lamb challenged. "A little hands-on demonstration."

Keen stood up abruptly, too busy glaring at Lamb to notice an incoming passerby as he stepped back over the bench. There was a small collision, the girl in full brat uniform slopping soup onto her tray. Keen turn his glare on her. "Be more damn careful!"

The other three had very obviously tuned out when Keen and Lamb started arguing. Most people did. As long as it stayed verbal and semi-polite, brat fights were practically encouraged. Get it out of their system on someone who wouldn't feel obliged to respond with discipline. Of course it usually ended in both brats getting bent over next to each other and them uniting against the common threat, but that had happened a few times without Lamb and Keen calling a ceasefire. Lamb was starting to think he was Keen's only safe outlet for bratting and he didn't want to ruin it by laying down the law too hard.

Besides, since Marshall unclipped that stop badge, there were some lovely perks. Pert peaked perks.

So, the others weren't paying attention as the girl spoke. "S-sorry, sir, I'll..."

"Not good enough." Keen gave Lamb a look of challenge. "Turn around."

"I ..." The girl obeyed, clutching her tray tightly.

Keen gave her a couple of swats, hard enough that her soup was jostled again. "Pay attention next time," he scolded. "Dismissed."

She escaped quickly, risking her soup yet again.

"That wasn't fair," Lamb said as Keen sat down in apparent triumph.

"Did she argue?"

"If not arguing was the measure we went by, ninety percent of punishments would be deemed unfair, because brats argue." Lamb patted his knee. "I'll be matching those swats, whenever you're ready to come here and take them."

Keen flipped him off. "You said apply discipline more, I was just following your advice. Next time a brat blunders into me, because they were too busy gossiping to pay attention, I'll just let it go. Is that what you want to hear?"

"I want to hear you apologise or the smack of my hand on your bum, I'll accept either. Preferably both." It was a test, but Lamb wasn't testing. Keen was making sense. Like Joshua, he was in the honeymoon phase of being a brat, and, like Darius, balancing the pressure of doing an AD degree as a Switch with primarily bratting the rest of the time. And Lamb was finding his own Bratting degree and extra-curriculars plenty to fulfil that side of him and a nice calming spanking would help him de-stress too. Whichever side of it he was on.

"You're not getting either," Keen told him, petulantly. "I haven't misbehaved."

"And yet I'm confident you're going to talk me into coming round there."

"Because you're a weird sadist with an unhealthy fixation on my backside," Keen suggested with a smirk.

Lamb stood up. "Congratulations on proving me right." He went round the end of the table, finally catching Tricia, Warner and Aaron's attention again. "Let's take a little walk outside and find somewhere nice and public for me to spank your little bunny tail, Keen."

Going red to the roots of his hair, Keen slowly stood up. "I hate you."

"Have fun, boys," Tricia told them with a grin.

Lamb gave him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed and tried to duck away. "You hate me, but you love my right hand. It and your bottom are having quite the torrid love affair behind our backs. See, they're sneaking off for a meeting right now."

Keen rolled his eyes, but didn't really try to resist as Lamb steered him towards the door with a hand on his ass.

They passed Marshall on his way in, who did a one eighty to join them.

Lamb paused. "Sir. First, you're late to our lunch date, which is naughty enough, but, unless you've already eaten, I'm going to have to insist you turn your bum the other way and at least grab a sandwich to go."

Marshall grinned. "Oh, am I next if I don't comply?" He gave the small part of Henry's bottom that wasn't covered by Lamb's hand a sharp swat. "What did our bunny do this time?"

"I wouldn't dare spank you, sir, but I'll tell Indira."

Henry scuffed his shoe along the ground and scowled at it. "Why wouldn't you dare?" he demanded, a petulant little whine in his voice. "How is spanking him different from spanking me? We're both Switches. I'm older. You've got more lifestyle experience than either of us."

Marshall nodded. "He's got a point, Ru. And I am being naughty."

Lamb's confidence evaporated. His hand dropped from Henry's bottom and he cringed. "I couldn't, sir. You're, like, the closest thing I've ever had to a serious Top. To an actual relationship. I'm not a Switch, sir, I top Keen because you both order me to."

Henry's head snapped up. "I have never ordered ...!"

Marshall pulled them both out of the way of the door, alongside the spanking rails where he and Henry had first met. "Yes, you have, bunny. When you want something you get very loud and demanding. I've definitely heard you tell Lamb to get inside you hard or you'll punish him in all sorts of inventive ways. Topping from the bottom is still topping."

"If you think Lamb folding me in half so he can break his endurance record for how long he can keep going after I've cum is me topping, I honestly have no fucking clue what words mean!"

"Bunny," Marshall warned. "Shouting at me is a good way to get me to demonstrate some topping from the top."

Henry raised his voice louder. "I have been taking it from both of you and now you tell me I can't even bottom properly?!"

He went over the nearest railing with scarily little effort from Marshall. "There is nothing wrong with the way you bottom, bunny. I love a demanding little brat telling me where to put it and then getting to decide if I indulge him or make him wait. And Ru loves a demanding little Top telling him where to put it and playing games where he might disobey or give you it with malicious compliance. The difference is that I'll tan your tail for more reasons than just fun."

"Doesn't sound like much difference," Henry sulked.

Lamb crouched down in front of him so their heads were on almost the same level and held his hands so he didn't have to put them on the lower rail. "Do you like being fucked through an orgasm and that not letting up until your partner is satisfied too?"

Henry closed his eyes, but nodded slightly.

"The what specifically happens to you is going to be similar because that's based on what you like. The power dynamics can be totally different and lead to the same result."

He didn't look convinced.

"I'm not trying to be your Top, Keen," Lamb told him. "Your Top is behind you, ready to smack your arse for disrespect. And then me, just to remind me of my place." He gave Henry a hopeful grin. "And anytime you want to remind me of the same, I'm yours."

"Why don't you tell me what you were going to punish him for and I'll decide if he needs it?" Marshall suggested.

"Not much. I was just going to give him a couple for being mean to a random brat, but then he argued and called me weird and unhealthy, so ..." Lamb grinned. "The usual foreplay."

"We've talked about kinkshaming before, bunny," Marshall scolded. "I'm afraid that means your pants are coming down now." Like he ever punished either of them on anything but the bare.

Henry sighed deeply. "Yellow?"

Marshall stepped away immediately, giving him the freedom to get up if he wanted. "We can negotiate."

"It's not about the spanking," Henry said. "And don't make it playful. Lamb minimised how mean I was, kinda unreasonable, actually. But ... if I wanted to top from the top, I ..."

"Don't know how?" Lamb finished, bluntly.

"I didn't think I was giving orders, just challenges. From my perspective, I've never topped with you guys." Henry gave Lamb a glare that did little to hide his longing. "I feel like a complete idiot, all the advice says to trust my instincts, but my instincts say brat."

"I can walk you through it, bunny," Marshall told him. "Step by step. We'll have you inside Lamb while he begs for mercy in no time. Or, if you still want his thick cock in your little hole, riding him."

"Fuck, you can't say that stuff in public!" Henry complained.

"Ready to end negotiation and let me turn your bum bright pink?"

"No," Henry grumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

From his perspective, Lamb could see the problem. "He's hard, sir. If you bare him here, everyone will know he likes it when you get strict with him. And our bunny needs a lot of strictness."

"My apartment's closest. Unless you boys want to take this to the exhibition gallery?" Marshall helped Henry upright and gave him a tight hug. "And this is nothing to be ashamed of either, bunny. I've got my wires crossed on public punishments plenty of times. I like stern, I like a little pain ... it happens."

Keen groaned softly and tried to hide his face in Marshall's shoulder, but their Top wasn't having it.

Lamb stood up and dusted off his knees just so he'd get the inevitable swat for leaning over in swatting reach of a Top. "I vote exhibition," Lamb said, cheerfully.

"You always vote exhibition," Keen grumbled.

Marshall swatted him lightly. "You have a vote too, little bunny. And the gallery is only happening if it's unanimous."

Keen shrugged. "Don't care where we go."

Lamb swatted him for that. "I have an idea that might help your Top impotence. If you agree to try it, I'll bottom this time. Properly. Complete obedience. Now, give us both a real opinion."

With a scowl Keen did. "Gallery and sure. I want you on one of the machines while I go over Marshall's knee."

Clutching his heart as though he'd been shot or betrayed, Lamb called him a bastard. He loved it when Henry found his mean streak.

"No skirts," Henry snapped, shoving Lamb further down the rails in Spencer and Marks.

"Aw," Lamb pouted, like he didn't have the same rule. "But you'd look so cute when it got flipped up."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with my normal clothes anyway." Jeans and a t-shirt, exactly the same as Lamb was wearing, but apparently, somehow, Lamb thought Henry dressed too much like a Top.

His 'genius' idea to get Henry to feel like a Top was to get him a Bottom wardrobe.

It made a tiny amount of sense. If Henry dressed for the role he felt like taking that day, Marshall and Lamb would know how to treat him. And he already owned the Top clothes, he just couldn't tell the difference between them and what Lamb wore.

Casually, at least. The weirdo wore the full brat uniform to class.

Henry had tried leaving his blazer at home though. The distinction was supposed to be that the brats had drop seats, but in reality the major difference was that the brats rebelled by refusing to wear any part of the uniform. Only a few weeks into term and ninety nine per cent of the brat population had switched to completely casual clothes while the tamers stubbornly wore blazers over their otherwise casual outfits.

He'd thought causing a little trouble in public might be a way to test his dynamic. Badge off and all casual, he should have been dragged upright for a few smacks by the first Top to almost trip over his legs stretched across the corridor.

Instead, several had asked him politely to move and it had been a prefect to lay down the law with a scolding for being a bad example for the brats and no smacks at all.

So, how the hell was Henry giving off Top vibes strong enough to protect his arse?

"Your trousers are fine," Lamb reassured him when the skirt flip comment got no response. He took a plain blue t-shirt off a shelf and held it out.

"That is fucking identical to the one I am literally wearing," Henry pointed out.

"Take your shirt off," Lamb instructed.

"Why?"

"So I can prove that's not true."

With a sigh and certain that there was no way to prove that, Henry yanked his shirt over his head.

Lamb took it and held it up against the other. Then he spotted the label. "Keen. Keen. You are buying your clothes from Topshop and acting like it's weird that people think you're a Top."

Henry glared at the shirts, seeing the differences. His had shorter, tighter sleeves, which would show off his shoulder muscles. His had a sharp v-neck, a more dramatic shape than the soft curve of the Bottom shirt. His was cut boxy and short, while the other was longer and more flared.

"Okay! So it's different, I wouldn't notice that shit."

"Not consciously, but ... Just try it on." Lamb kept hold of his original shirt and handed Henry the new one.

There was a mirror nearby which Lamb steered Henry to once he'd pulled it on over his head. Now he'd seen the differences, Henry had to admit he looked softer somehow. Very subtly, but apparently the line between dynamic presentation.

Without warning, Lamb pantsed him and spun him a full one eighty.

"Hey! I'm complying!"

"Look in the mirror now," Lamb ordered. "Without moving your feet."

Henry looked over his shoulder and felt his stomach swoop. The length of the shirt meant that it curved over the swell of his bum, but stopped before it could hang straight again. His bottom peeked out from under it, almost coyly, and he had the absurd urge to pull the shirt up out of the way and get smacking.

"What do you see?" Lamb asked, like he knew full well.

"I ... A naughty little boy waiting for a spanking," Henry said, his voice rough to his ears. He couldn't meet his own eyes in the mirror. "He'd look even better with a redder bottom."

Marshall had gone way too easy on him, turning what should have been serious discipline into a fun tease. Henry had cried when he'd cum and been embarrassed by them both assuring him that was a normal reaction. Like, yeah, it was, but his was because he knew he didn't deserve it.

"You'd look even better with a bright red bottom," Lamb corrected. "And Marshall's promised you one as a reward if I tell him you were good this whole trip."

The one Marshall had promised would belong to Lamb, but obviously that detail didn't matter. Henry didn't know how he felt about being expected to put him over his knee for fun. Even more pressure than discipline, since Henry didn't need to make a punishment enjoyable.

Lamb gave him a swat to illustrate the point, making his arse bounce obscenely. "So, what do you think? Yes or no on the shirt?"

"Yes. So much yes." Henry reached back and tentatively raised the hem, baring his entire bottom. "Is this how Marshall sees me?"

Lamb shrugged. "I think he'd love to see you like this. But we're supposed to get you a full week's worth of shirts. Which I know you think means four at most, but our weasel isn't going to accept less than seven. And I am not going to accept them all being plain. Pick two more colours and then I'm dragging you to the slogan shirts."

Henry bent down to pull his trousers back up, not entirely surprised when Lamb swatted him as he did so. Bending over in front of a Top — sorry, sadist — was pretty much a guarantee of that.

"I'm counting that one for my chart," Henry said, quickly stripping out of his new t-shirt like it was responsible. "Give me my shirt back."

Lamb tossed him the Topshop one. "You're putting on the new one again when we report back to Marshall. He might've promised you a go at my red arse, but I bet you can convince him to give you one too just by wearing that thing and nothing else."

Henry felt his face heat even more in embarrassment. He grabbed two more t-shirts, one green, one red, ignored Lamb's inevitable comment about matching his bottom to the latter and led the way to the slogan shirts. They were hung the other way around, facing outwards so they could be easily read and every single one, applied to himself, made Henry feel dizzy.

There were the basic and descriptive — brat, disobey, red bottom squad — the puns — check out my tan lines written on the back with a down pointing arrow — and, worst of all, the outright challenges — make me, I've been naughty, requires discipline. He recognised more than a few from Joshua's wardrobe and the thought of accidentally picking the same shirt as him was horrifying.

Lamb put his hand on the back of Henry's neck, rubbing gently. "Yeah, I know. But you definitely can't mistake someone in one of these for a Top who's misplaced his blazer. Except from behind and by that point they'll already be bending you over."

Henry took a deep breath. If Joshua could bounce about in these, he wasn't going to back down. He wasn't a coward.

Four. There had to be four that weren't too ...

He jerked away from Lamb's touch and grabbed one from a nearby rack. Crimes with a little cat sitting in the curve of the C. That was cute. Funny even.

"Good boy."

Henry paused, then picked up another one of the crime cat shirts.

Lamb swatted him firmly, mostly sound over his thick jogging bottoms. "I'll let you get two of the same image if they're different colours and you get a new pair of jeans."

"You said mine were fine," Henry protested, putting down the second black shirt and grabbing the navy version. He didn't say that jeans were jeans, not when Lamb wouldn't hesitate to ambush a passing Top for a pair to compare.

"They are. Most of the time you'll have to lower them anyway, but a thinner pair with no back pockets and an elasticated waist instead of a fly says spank me better. Some Tops don't want to fiddle about near your junk."

Henry glared at him. "I already have an elasticated waist on these, but fine. Since you're dedicated to turning me into Joshua."

"There are worse brat role models than Joshua," Lamb said. "Two more."

With many weary sighs, Keen picked them out. One with the plausibly vague challenge to Bring It On that could apply to brat or tamer and, in a burst of fuck it when Lamb laughed at him for picking the least bratty options, Can't Be Tamed.

He didn't say what he was thinking about Lamb being one of those worse brat role models.

He knew Lamb wouldn't hesitate to bend him over for a real spanking in the middle of Spencer and Marks.

He wanted to be punished for the right reason, even if he couldn't yet bring himself to confess.

Chapter Text

"Snap!" Joshua crowed, then immediately felt guilty as Alby's eyes filled with tears.

Of course, Alby had been even more smug on the rounds he'd won, so not too guilty.

Elly gave him a stern look and Joshua instinctively stuck his tongue out. Alby being Little so didn't mean Joshua had to just let him win.

"Tatham!" Indira barked across the room.

Joshua's tongue vanished inside his mouth and his back straightened. "What did I do?"

Indira snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground in front of her.

Certain he was about to get his bottom smacked harder than he liked for being rude to her girlfriend, Joshua put his cards down. "Sorry, Miss Soaper."

Elly smiled. "I don't mind a little cheekiness, Joshua, but I might pinch that tongue if it makes a reappearance. A third time and we'll be putting some pink on your bum. You're sitting far too comfortably to be comfortable."

It was true. Joshua hadn't had the courage to ask Birch for it since he'd got it for real. Sadie still wasn't confident enough to give him more than a few swats, Flick thought fun meant too light to feel and Keller was dealing with both the Landon situation and a new relationship.

He nodded shyly and poked his tongue out again, just enough that she could pinch it as threatened. It was a weird sensation, not quite painful, tasting soap from when she'd washed her hands.

"Definitely a spanking next time, naughty boy," Elly warned him.

He squirmed and ducked his head.

Indira snapped, "Quit stalling, Tatham!"

He jumped up, as Elly began dealing the brightly coloured animal cards for a two-person game. Indira was the second scariest Top he knew and that was plenty scary enough.

Joshua shuffled his feet on the spot she'd indicated. "Uh, can I know what I'm accused of before I start denying something you didn't even know about?"

"Guilty conscience, Tatham?" Indira asked. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just needed a brat for Sadie to practice on."

He perked up. Sadie was great. Her spanking him had been an awakening for both of them and they'd been growing into what that meant side by side ever since. Not that there was much more there than friendship, Joshua was just very happy to be her guinea pig as she learned all the best ways to make him a sorry little boy.

"My bottom is yours, ma'ams," Joshua said, with a silly little bow. "Try and return it in one piece?"

Indira ignored him and turned to Sadie. "I could drag you through eight different shops, fill your wardrobe with black leather and teach you to apply eyeliner sharp enough to cut, but that's my style, not yours. Elly dresses like Ms Frizzle and she still gets respect. What you need is attitude."

Sadie sighed. "Every time I try I come across as bratty instead."

Indira nodded. "Have you covered scolding in class yet?"

"Theory, yes, but we have a practical next week and I'm certain I'm going to make a complete fool of myself."

"I want you to go stand by Flick's study and summon Joshua. Joshua, I want you to ignore her until you're more worried about disobeying her than you are about disobeying me. Whichever one of us you choose, the other will spank you."

Joshua winced on Sadie's behalf as she stood up and walked away. That was setting her up to fail. He'd seen Lamb's bottom after an encounter with his mentor, no way was anything Sadie had to offer going to convince him to risk a thrashing from Indira.

"Joshua, can you come here, please?" Sadie asked, her voice shaking.

He felt guilty about it, but he stayed where he was.

"I won't ask you again," Sadie lied.

Not true and not a threat.

"If you don't come here now, you'll be getting a sore bottom when you do?"

He'd be getting a sore bottom either way. The one from Sadie would be nicer.

Indira raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't believe you, Burns, because you don't believe yourself. Joshua, try bratting a little in response. Verbal only. Sadie, try again."

"Come here, Tatham."

Joshua rolled his eyes. "Why would I? Indira's like a million times scarier, so give it up already." Nothing but the truth.

"Joshua," Sadie said in a cold tone that had him whipping his head round to stare at her. "You have until the count of three to be standing in front of me, drop seat unbuttoned and hands on your ankles. One."

"Or what?" he challenged, but he found himself leaning in her direction, like she was a magnet.

She didn't answer, just kept gazing at him steadily. "Two."

He bolted to her, fumbled open his foldaway trousers and bent over. Only when his hands were braced against his shins did he remember he'd just volunteered for Indira to teach him a lesson.

"Good boy," Sadie purred. "I promised you a sore bottom and I intend to keep that promise, but we didn't get to three, so it's just going to be a reward for helping me practice. How does that sound?"

Joshua nodded eagerly. "Yes, please, ma'am, but, uh, Indira ..."

"Thought so," Indira said, sounding almost approving. "You might not have noticed, but I've seen you go Top a few times. You just need a live one. My advice is go brat hunting. Hang out in public on campus, alone, in your blazer and jeans. Take a sturdy hairbrush and expect trouble. I'll come with, but observe at a distance and only step in if you give me this hand signal." She demonstrated, opening and closing her fist thrice in succession. "Now, he chose you, but you both deserve a reward. Spank the boy and grab your blazer."

As Sadie's hand raised above his bottom, Joshua wondered how Indira managed to make those sound like equally casual chores.

"Brandon misses you," Elly said as she waited for Alby to grab a coat so they could go to the campus play park, sized for adult Littles but otherwise indistinguishable with the usual swings, climbing frames and slides.

Joshua shifted on the hard dining chair he'd been using to try and convince him Sadie's spanking had been enough. What the hell was he supposed to do with that information?

"I saw him at session yesterday. He used a ruler on my hand and stuck me in the corner with a dunce cap on. How can he possibly be missing me?"

Elly smiled knowingly. "And when did he last touch your bottom?"

Week and a half ago. The group hairbrushing.

She read the answer in his expression. "He's waiting for your permission. Confirmation that you're still okay with him. And we all have to listen to him panicking that he's messed it all up and you'll never trust him again."

Joshua stared. "He thinks ...?"

"He thinks he came on too strong and spanked you too hard." Elly took Alby's hand as they left. "At least consider telling him you don't hate him?"

That was so far from what Joshua felt that he laughed. Then he put on his shoes and followed Elly and Alby into the hallway. He walked slowly so he wouldn't catch them up and get more knowing looks.

The three bedroom — all too often two bedroom plus playroom — dorms were just across a stretch that was paved over and cars only allowed on during move-in week. Joshua knew which one was Birch and Chalk's because they'd given that address to everyone in both societies with the instructions to approach them more privately if they had a serious concern about another member.

He rang the doorbell, wishing he'd given himself more time to think about what he was going to say.

Chalk opened it.

The Top Joshua considered scariest. Yay.

"Is Birch in, sir?" Joshua asked, as though he was asking if he could come play. He guessed he kind of was.

"He's in class right now, Tatham," Chalk said. "But he's free all afternoon if you, uh, wanted to come in and wait?"

Joshua had class that afternoon. Introduction to 3D Modelling with Professor Handley. They hadn't covered anything he wasn't already familiar with yet, but it would be just his luck that the first lesson he missed would be the one they did.

"I mean, would that be okay?" Joshua peeked nervously up at Chalk.

"Tatham. Get your arse inside before I paddle you pink, tie you up and leave you like that for him to find when he gets home." Chalk made room for him to pass. "The pair of you need to talk and if I have to facilitate that with bondage and threats ..."

Stomach churning, Joshua passed him. He jumped at the force of the swat. A smack had felt inevitable, but holy shit had rumours of how hard Chalk went not been exaggerations.

The door shut with a sharp click and Chalk steered him down the hallway to a room they'd adapted into an office. Two desks, one more imposing and the other a slanted vintage school desk with liftable lid. A wall of leather-bound books. An umbrella stand with an unsettling array of canes stored in it.

Chalk leaned against the larger desk and nudged one of the chairs in front of it with a foot. "Sit."

The chair didn't have a seat. Or it did, enough around the edges to support him, but the middle was a gaping hole. There was some sort of device below it too, all straps and moveable parts. Joshua eyed it suspiciously.

"A little vulnerability loosens bratty tongues," Chalk said. "You can sit or we can have this conversation with you bared over my knee."

Joshua sat. The chair didn't bite or anything, it just made him very aware of his cheeks hanging through the hole.

Chalk smiled. "Good boy."

"What does it, uh, do?" Joshua shifted, trying to find the position with the most defence.

"Well, either you can use a soft implement to curve up and smack a naughty bottom without them needing to stand or you can strap a dildo into all that and give them something nice to sit on. Or both. Both is a little tricky, but so worth it." Chalk talked like a teacher. Like he was explaining the square root of pi or what the fuck ever and not the torture device he'd just ordered Joshua to put his vulnerable bottom in.

"Am I in trouble, sir?"

"Not yet, but you're a brat. In my experience, you'll find your way there sooner or later. Best to be strict with you from the start. So, what are your intentions with Brandy?"

"My ... my intentions?" What was he? A Regency Dandy courting a lady?

"Are you here to let him down gently or get on your knees?" Chalk clarified.

Joshua was certain he'd never felt so embarrassed and his mother had never missed an opportunity to be as embarrassing as possible when they were in public together.

He shifted. "I wanted to ask if he maybe would still be okay with — with giving me a nice ... um ... sometimes, maybe."

Chalk rubbed his forehead. "Okay. I'm going to ask you some things and you can just answer yes or no. Would you like Brandon to spank you for fun?"

Joshua nodded. "Yes, sir, but only if he, like, still wan—"

"Yes or no answers only, Tatham." Chalk pulled a bottle of soap tabs out of his blazer pocket and set them forebodingly on the desk. "The only things I'm asking are things Brandon has specifically told me he would like to do with you. Would you want him to be your disciplinarian? Give you genuine punishments for things unrelated to the club or your academic stuff?"

"T-things like what?" Joshua clamped his mouth shut and eyed the soap tabs in anticipation.

"You're allowed to ask for clarification," Chalk clarified. "And that would be between you and him. Think of the sort of things your dorm prefect enforces. A common one is a check in that you arrived safely wherever you were going. Something more intense might be a rule against eating a particular kind of junk food."

Or going shopping unsupervised. Though it really had turned out that Joshua found it easier when there wasn't anyone to brat at. Keller would still come with when it was something he could advise on, but he was a lot sterner after that first trip.

Joshua nodded again. "Yeah, I'd like that. Birch got me good both ways, sir. Punishment and ..."

Chalk smiled proudly. "I'm sure he did. How about spending more time together? Hanging out? Things he will do a huge amount of backwards somersaults to avoid calling dates."

Joshua's stomach did a huge amount of backwards somersaults. "I ..."

"Yes or no, boy?"

It wasn't quite an endearment, but it settled Joshua right down. He didn't need to question. A Top was telling him things and he simply needed to provide an honest answer.

"Yes, sir."

"Private scenes? Just the two of you. More intimate than the Schoolroom stuff. His favourite with me is sent to the headmaster's office for a caning. With you I expect he'd be more interested in a fag set up."

Joshua choked on thin air. "A what set up?!"

"In certain old boarding schools, a younger student was assigned as a sort of servant to an older one. Not that he'd be all that interested in you actually serving him. More like he gives you the order to polish his boots, you tell him to stick them up his arse and you get a thorough drubbing with the sole of those boots."

His stomach clenched at the idea. The Schoolroom stuff was fine, but it hadn't really captured his imagination. If it hadn't been for Birch, Joshua reckoned he would have dropped it for one of the more narrative heavy groups. Somewhere he could play a role, not just feel like he was having a recurring dream about being back in school.

'Fag' was definitely a role. Was that where the slang had come from? He could definitely see how that set up was ripe for abuse and ...

"Yes, sir. We sort of did one like that and, yeah, I'd love to do it again."

Chalk nodded. "Last one, Tatham, you're doing very well. No wrong answers, remember. Sex."

Sex.

"I don't know ..."

"Is that an 'I think not but I don't want the other things to be taken off the table' or a 'there's something preventing me from saying yes'?" Chalk stood up and went to the bookshelf, picking out a volume. "Obviously this is a conversation you should be having with Brandon, but have a look through this while you're waiting."

He placed the book on the desk next to a sheet of paper and a pen. "Make a note of any pages you think might appeal. Absolutely do not fold any pages down or I'll give you a stroke with the junior cane for each."

"I won't, sir," Joshua said quickly. He didn't do that with his own books, he sure as hell wouldn't be doing it with the guy who he needed to impress as Birch's Top.

"Good boy." Chalk actually ruffled his hair. "Has this helped you know what you want to ask Brandon for when he gets home?"

Joshua nodded. "Thank you, sir. He really...?"

"Has talked to me about wanting those things, but insisted on waiting until you clearly requested them? Yes." Chalk looked at him with a strangely sad expression. "You aren't accustomed to asking for things, are you, Joshua?"

An embarrassed shake of his head.

"I hope I'll be seeing a lot more of you around here, boy." Again Chalk said it with all authority, but Joshua felt as though it was an endearment. He left the study — the playroom — and shut the door firmly behind him.

It took Joshua several minutes before he found the courage to stand up and go see what book Chalk had left him.

He eyed the soap tabs still sitting on the desk with distaste. Frothy little nightmare pills. A quick, almost casual, swipe of his hand had them tumbling into the bin next to the desk. Birch should thank him, getting rid of Chalk's supply, but if Chalk found out ...

Joshua didn't rescue them. Instead he took the book to the far less perilous to bratty bums armchair and curled up after kicking off his shoes.

Now he wasn't overwhelmed by scary Top presence, he could see a lot more than just that evil chair. The larger desk had restraint points at all four corners. Hanging on the coat rack next to two sets of Mortarboard robes was a complicated mess of straps in vaguely human shape. The titles on the books ranged from the titillating to the incomprehensible.

He sort of wondered why they ever bothered to book out the suite in the lifestyle building if they had a set up like this at home.

It was somewhere Joshua felt oddly at ease. Nervous that someone might happen to him, but being surrounded by the paraphernalia of some very specific fetishes really put him in the right headspace. He felt like he'd snuck in there to borrow a book without asking and that little thrill of the forbidden stroked whatever it was that made bratting feel good.

He opened the book. Okay. Wow. He hadn't known there were books about that.

Gender Affirmation in Dynamic Relationships volume 3: Sexual Activity in Theory and Practice

Joshua turned to the contents page. It was split pretty much fifty/fifty between focus on transwomen and transmen, with one chapter on the non-binary experience, so he turned straight to the relevant section. Pre-surgery, pre-testosterone transmasculine.

There were illustrations.

The first chapter he came to was about topping. He didn't think that interested him, but he read the first paragraph or so. It was clear on the distinction between topping physically and topping in terms of dominance, but Joshua couldn't quite imagine himself in the position of the man in the photographs; strap-on proud between his thighs and penetrating first a vagina and then an arsehole.

He knew very clearly which of those he empathised most with, so he turned to the bottoming chapter. It was longer. More options and affirmations that it wasn't inherently less masculine than topping.

A couple of pages later, turned quickly to get past the vaginal penetration, and Joshua stopped.

Yes.

The same man as the topping chapter, he presumed. The pictures carefully decapitated their subjects, but he had the exact same strap-on which wrapped under to stimulate his clit. The strap-on wasn't getting any use, just existing as the man was penetrated from behind by an actual penis, arsehole spread wide.

Traditional Bottoming read the caption, followed by some caveats about not expecting the same experience as a cisman, but that some people found attempting to emulate it affirming.

The next page was the same, but without the strap-on.

Joshua turned back. It was pointless. He didn't want to penetrate, so it wasn't necessary.

He imagined Birch, deep inside him, reaching around and stroking the strap-on, moving it just enough that he felt it in his clit.

This for me, Joshua? Did I make you hard?

Joshua slipped a hand down to rub himself through his trousers.

He heard a door opening.

Snatching his hand away as though it had been burned he looked up to find it had been the front door, not the office.

Voices in the hallway.

"Brandy." Chalk sounded pissed.

Joshua looked for somewhere to hide. Problem was that Chalk knew where he'd left him and not being there was probably worse than whatever...

"Office. Go." There was a smacking sound.

"What did I do?" Birch asked, sounding outraged.

A louder smack. "What do you say when I give you an order, boy?"

"Ah! Yes, sir, Master Chalk, sir!"

"Office," Chalk repeated.

Joshua stomach did some more of those backwards somersaults as the door opened. Birch entered, pouting, but his expression changed to astonishment. He looked over his shoulder. "You could've warned me, you prick!"

"Get your bottom into that office, Brandy," Chalk said, nearly all the pissedness gone. "Tatham has some very important yes, sirs to give you."

Birch lightly slammed the door behind him, then leaned against it, considering Joshua. "Find something interesting to read?"

"Chalk told me to look at it, sir." Joshua shifted from legs curled to one side to actually kneeling.

"What's it about?"

"Things I might like you to do to me, sir." Joshua didn't have much experience trying to be alluring, but he lowered his head and perked up through his eyelashes like Dare always did when he was trying to convince Flick of something.

Birch snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor right in front of him. "Bring it here, boy. I can't do them if I don't know exactly what they are."

Joshua stood up slowly. "Chalk had a lot of questions, sir. All the things he says you want to do to me. I said yes to them all, sir." He smirked, something bratty clicking into place to make it easy to say. "Even the dates."

"Fuck, I told him not to rush you ..."

"I needed to be rushed, sir." Joshua crossed the room quickly and held out the book, still open to the picture that had interested him the most. "I thought you stopped paying me special attention because I'd been naughty. That I shouldn't ask for nice spankings anymore, because you would say no, not for naughty boys."

Birch took the book, eyes widening slightly at the picture. "Joshua ..."

It was an even bigger 'getting away with something' thrill to have Birch so flustered, but Joshua wanted him in control. What had Chalk said? Let him down gently or ...

Joshua dropped to his knees. "Would you like to cane me, sir? For being too silly to ask for what I'd like because I was waiting for you to tell me what you would."

Birch snorted softly, setting the book aside on a small table. "We're both guilty of that one, it seems."

"Okay, then just because you'd like to?" Joshua bit his lip and looked up at him. "We've nearly always done what I like and I'd like to try something for you. If you're going to be my serious Top with rules and dates and scenes."

"Who says I'm going to be your serious Top?" Birch went to the umbrella stand and selected a lightweight junior cane. "Up."

"I say you are, sir," Joshua said, bouncing up again. "I say I need a mean one who can smack me hard when I'm naughty and soft when I'm good and makes me want to behave, except when I don't. And I've picked you, so you're stuck with me." He held his breath, not sure he could cope with rejection after all that build-up.

"You, Joshua Tatham, are the perfect little brat," Birch said. "Now, pull your trousers down and touch your toes. My first act as your Top is going to be putting my mark on you. Then I'll ease off and see if we can't find a level with this implement that you still enjoy. I hope we can, but I promise not to be disappointed if this is one we have to reserve for real discipline."

Fizzing with excitement down to his toes, Joshua unbuttoned his split trousers and let them fall away. He bent over, as low as he could, almost actually reaching his toes.

The cane sliced a path of agony across his sit spots and he laughed. It felt like a promise.

Chapter Text

Of course, Marshall had insisted on making Henry wear Can't Be Tamed.

He'd woken in Marshall's bed, Lamb wrapped around their Top on the other side and made the mistake of answering 'bratty' when asked which way he was leaning. The whole point of the new clothes was to help him dress the part rather than slap on a toppy top and get sulky when he didn't get the treatment he wanted.

The embarrassing shirt was a very good way of advertising his mood and what he wanted other people to do about it.

Henry had thrown what he refused to think of as a tantrum about it and to his alarm had found himself tipped over Lamb's knee. And by tipped over he meant knelt with one leg either side of Lamb's lap, then made to brace his forearms against a footstool in front of them. What Marshall had informed him was called the 'Wheelbarrow' position and was ideal for smacks between his arsecheeks.

Lamb focused all his attention there, pinching and rubbing as much as he landed smacks and flicks with his finger. It had been a whole new level of confused and humiliated arousal.

His only consolation as Lamb drew moans and whimpers out of him was that he could feel the supposed Bottom hardening behind him. There had been a moment where he had almost begged to be sat up and forced to ride Lamb's dick, but embarrassment stopped the words in his throat.

When Marshall had been satisfied with the redness along his crack and lubed up a finger to tease Henry into an orgasm so there wouldn't be any 'embarrassing accidents', they'd made him look at himself over the shoulder in just a t-shirt again. When he'd grabbed it, he hadn't realised there was writing on the back too. The front said Can't Be Tamed with a small asterisk and the back said But You're Welcome To Try.

That invitation, combined with some red being visible along the edges of his crack, was enough to make him squirm. If anyone took his trousers down — just those, he'd been forbidden underwear — they were going to immediately know what had been done to him.

Henry would need to be on his absolute best behaviour during class. Assuming his rudeness last lesson and Professor Wiel's threat to use him as a demonstration had been forgotten. It didn't seem likely.

He made the executive decision not to go.

He'd get a worse thrashing for it, but it could be at a time when there wasn't a visible line of redness screaming that someone had spanked his hole.

So, now he was standing on the steps outside the library and trying to work out what the hell he was supposed to do. No one was paying him much attention, though a few people who'd read the back of his shirt turned their heads back to read the front for context.

Henry felt restless. Still bratty. He couldn't go back to his dorm, Flick had the morning off and might be there to ask why he wasn't in class. Honestly, if anyone talked to him, he was pretty sure he'd end up over their knee.

His best bet, his safest, least humiliating, unlikely to result in anyone seeing option was to wait until lunch, then send Marshall a text that he'd skipped class. While waiting in the corner of Marshall's bedroom.

A spanking to make the rest of his arse match the between would hide that telltale redness. No one else would ever need to know.

Indira had the morning off too, though, so her, Elly and Marshall's apartment wasn't a safe option either. Not since Marshall had mentioned escorting him and Lamb to their classrooms when they'd left after breakfast

Luckily they were all going to different floors of the lifestyle building, so he'd only taken them as far as the lift. Henry had stepped out of it on the correct level and stepped right back into it when it came back down without Lamb or Marshall inside.

The library held no appeal. Henry wasn't hungry. There wasn't anywhere he felt like going. He was just bored and bratty.

A really dangerous combination.

Henry wandered out of the direct path that people were hurrying along and considered sitting down on a low wall nearby. Great idea, except he'd be squirming in a way that told everyone he'd been spanked. He looked around for something mildly interesting and ended up watching a guy in casual clothes and no blazer.

The unofficial brat uniform.

The boy was playing with a hacky sack, apparently very poorly, but the amount of near misses he was getting to people around him without hitting any was miraculous enough that it had to be deliberate. Especially since those misses were edging closer and closer.

It was a boy sitting nearby, sideways with his knees up to his chest and feet flat on the wall, who snapped first, even though he was outside the hacky sack menace's range. He slammed his book shut and jumped down, striding to the kid with the hacky sack and catching it midair. Henry was too far away to hear what was said, but after a brief exchange the tamer grabbed the brat's collar and dragged him to the nearest wall.

Hacky sack guy glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, gave Henry a smirk, then bent over of his own accord. The other guy didn't hesitate to tug the brat's drawstring trousers down to just below his bottom, inspected it for signs of redness, then replaced just his pants before starting to spank.

Henry couldn't stop staring, his stomach churning with complicated feelings. Primarily jealousy. Of both of them.

It was a pretty light punishment, a warning to knock it off, but hacky sack brat was wriggling unhappily by the end of it. The Top dressed him again, spoke a few words and pulled him up into a hug. Looking a little embarrassed, the brat stuffed the returned hacky sack in his pocket and walked away, either because he'd got what he wanted or because he didn't dare continue with his arse in danger.

The tamer returned to his wall perch and book.

Henry couldn't be certain, but that interaction had looked like neither of them knew each other. Which meant ...

It was worth a try. Attempting to move casually, Henry went and sat down opposite the guy with the book. He glanced up, but Henry stared outwards, scanning the crowd like he was just waiting for someone.

The tamer returned to reading.

Slowly, as though he wasn't noticing himself do it, Henry put his feet up on the wall in a mirror of the guy's position and started inching them towards him. He only got halfway before the tamer shut his book again. The sharp snap made him jump.

"Typical," the Top said, pointedly looking at Henry's chest. "You demonstrate a willingness to spank and the vultures descend."

Henry quickly swung his legs down. "Sorry, I didn't -"

"Yes, you did," the tamer said. "Keep your bottom on this wall, boy."

He gulped and settled back down, the hard stone reminding him of how Lamb had spanked him right on his hole.

"Name?"

"Henry, sir." The epithet was entirely unplanned. "Henry Keen."

"Turlough Frye. And you're very new to looking for trouble, aren't you, Keen?"

Henry nodded. "I'm sorry I disturbed you, sir. If you don't want to sp—" He couldn't say it. "I wouldn't want to be harassed by brats when trying to read either."

Frye gave him a slightly crooked smile and swept sandy hair out of his eyes. "Boy, if I really wanted to focus on my book, I'd be somewhere else. Down by the river or in my dorm. I'm fishing for brats and I just caught a sweet little baby."

Feeling suddenly very out of his depth, Henry went to stand up again.

"Last warning, Keen," Frye said lazily. "Bottom on wall or we can have this conversation with you bent over it instead."

His stomach flipped and Henry sat down again. "I'm not a baby."

"Right, because brats with experience start apologising and trying to run away before they've even done anything wrong. You came over here with the intent to be naughty and now you're blushing and squirming instead of committing to earning the spanking you're after. I told you exactly how to get it. So, Keen, why are you still sitting down?"

"I thought I might sit here forever," Henry said, trying to get in the same headspace as his arguments with Lamb. "See which of us gives up first."

"That's more like it." Frye tucked his book into his bag and stood up. "I'd love to pop your cherry, kid, but I'm going to walk away and find someone a little more committed to the bit if you don't play naughty."

Henry was sure his face was as red as the metaphorical fruit. Pop his cherry. He shoved himself to his feet, getting in the guy's space. "Oh, you definitely won't be the first in line there, Frye. Wanna see how colour accurate your cherry comment was?"

There was a whoosh of air and Henry found his chest shoved flat against the wall, Frye's hands on his wrist and opposite shoulder. "I'd love to see, Keen," he hissed. "I'd love to touch even more. Give me a green and I'll bare your bottom and show you what being a brat gets you around here."

"Green," Henry said immediately. He'd stopped caring that they were in public, just wanted more rough handling.

Frye peeled down his jeans — the tight, back pocketless, elasticated waisted pair Lamb had picked out — and whistled. "Can I get a better look at that?"

At? Oh. Fuck. "Is that allowed here?"

"As long as I don't put anything inside you or touch your dick it's fine," Frye assured him. "But if you're going to go out bratting looking like this, you're going to get a very specific type of attention. If that's what you're after, you should be hanging around the exhibition gallery instead, trying to pick up the voyeurs."

"You can look," Henry said, then gasped as his buttocks were yanked apart. The fresh breeze across his hole was completely foreign and his heart pounded frantically about so many strangers being able to see. Despite Marshall's insurance against embarrassing accidents, he felt his dick stir.

"Keen?!"

Oh, shit. Strangers watching could be hot. Someone he knew so much less so.

Frye let go of him and turned to Sadie. "This yours? Because you did a really pretty job if so."

Henry lay his forehead against the cool stone. There was no recovering from this humiliation. He'd have to transfer universities. To Australia.

"Yes, actually," Sadie said sharply. "That is mine and I'd appreciate it if you took your hands far away from him."

Frye sounded annoyed. "He approached me, ma'am."

She softened very slightly. "I don't doubt it. Would you like to give him a few for it? Before I take him home and punish him properly for soliciting strangers."

It was hot, her showing up to stake her claim, but weird. If it had been Marshall saying it, Henry would've loved every moment. He just didn't understand why Sadie was.

Frye's hand landed on his backside and he jumped. Henry panted through another five or so, sort of glad he hadn't kept pushing if that was how hard the guy spanked. Though more would definitely have satisfied his urge to brat.

"Cute game," Frye said and Henry peeked back to see he was grinning. "You're Freshers, right? First time trying to play at jealousy? It's considered polite to give anyone you're going to play with a heads up if it isn't genuine, but if you see me around, I'll be happy to give you an excuse to descend on him, in exchange for getting to spank his cute ass. And that blushing newbie thing was either Oscar worthy or a tragedy that it's going to be lost as you get more confident." He leaned against the wall. "He's all yours again, ma'am."

There was a pause, then Sadie's hand smacked down twice, across each sit spot. "A little taster, Keen. Up."

There was no denying that tone. Henry stood, tugging his shirt down at the front to try and hide his dick, not even minding that that made it pull up at the back to draw more attention to his bottom.

"Pull your trousers up," Sadie scolded.

Henry obeyed, too stunned to really argue.

"With me." Sadie turned as if to march off, but, now fully dressed, Henry felt like he could resist.

"What the fuck?" he snapped, trying for his own best scolding tone. "You know full well it was Marshall." Admitting it was Lamb was a step too far. "Just because you're the only full Top in my dorm doesn't give you the right —"

Sadie pointed across the courtyard to where Indira was watching. "I'm under orders to fetch," she informed him, "so, heel."

Frye laughed at them. "You're with Chaudhri? Does that make you Marsh's kids? Shit, yeah, he's told the Hunters about you." He winced. "Sorry if I misgendered you, Lamb."

"Sadie Burns," she corrected him, haughtily. "She/her/ma'am."

"Well, Burns," Frye said, unruffled, "tell Marshall he should bring Lamb along like he keeps promising and that Keen would be just as welcome, if he's willing to run."

"Run?" Henry and Sadie asked at the same time, then glared at each other.

"Hunters. We hunt," Frye explained like they were being deliberately stupid. "Lamb's expressed interest in being our prey and I'm saying Keen is adorable and I, for one, would be interested in chasing him with the intent to turn that bottom a lovely shade of pink."

That was an incredibly weird compliment, but it made Henry feel kinda proud anyway. He gave Frye a shy smile. "Dunno if I'd like that, but if Marshall's cool with it I'd be up for trying."

Frye reached out and gave him a swat. "Give Marshall that from me and tell him it's for not playing enough with you. His boy and you don't even know if you like being hunted. The fuck is he doing with you then?"

Henry shrugged, more willing to admit to getting his hole spanked than to trying to stop being a brat.

Sadie tapped her wrist. "Keen, if Indira has to fetch us, I'll be getting spanked."

Like that was motivation to go with her and not the exact opposite. "Fancy that," he said with a yawn. "I suddenly feel exhausted and need to have a quick rest on this wall." Henry sat down, smirking at her.

She glared at him. "Get up or else I'll have to go for your ear."

Henry leaned back on his hands. "I'm stronger, Burns, and I want to see you get spanked way more than I want to avoid getting it myself. Getting to bare your bottom and put you over my knee in class is something I still jerk off to. I just regret I went easy on you because you seemed so small and fragile."

Frye sucked in air through his teeth. "Where was that attitude when you were dealing with me, Keen?"

It was just a lot easier when he knew the insecurities to target. Even if every word was a lie.

Sadie, to his surprise, didn't crumple like usual. Like being observed by strangers made her tough enough to deal with him.

She pinched his ear and hauled him up just high enough that she could swat his bottom. "You can either turn around and take a dose of my hairbrush or I'm telling Marshall and Indira what you said and letting them deal with you. Sexual harassment isn't a joke, Keen, and you've got a bad history with taking your verbal bratting over the line."

Henry yanked free and backed his arse against the wall again. "Like you don't get off on it every time you turn Joshua's bottom pink and he wriggles like he wants you to —"

She slapped him. Across the face.

It was a shock. Enough to make him shut up and re-evaluate what he was saying. She was right, he'd crossed a line.

Being upset at her for interrupting didn't make that appropriate.

Indira was across the courtyard a moment later. "Burns," Indira said in a truly lethal tone. One that made Henry's knees buckle even though it wasn't aimed at him. "I believe you recall what Tricia did to Keen for aiming for the face. Now consider that out of the two of us, she's the soft touch."

"I deserved it," Henry said quickly. "I was ... She ..."

There was a short pause, then Frye helpfully reported almost the exact words.

Indira's cold expression turned on Henry. She took her phone out of her pocket, opened the TATL app and sent a quick message. "Hands on the wall, Burns."

Henry was already halfway turned when who that order had been aimed at registered. "Ma'am, please. I ..."

"I just gave Marshall full permission to walk out of his classroom for disciplinary reasons, Keen, but I can give you a preview before he arrives if you want to argue?"

His chin went up. "You've just been looking for an excuse to get your hands on Sadie. A Top who acts that submissive is just your type, right?" He was surprised he made it to the end of the insult.

Indira blinked slowly. "I won't deny considering Sadie attractive, Keen, but I really don't see the relevance."

Sadie blushed and quickly slapped her palms on the wall like she'd been told so she didn't have to make eye contact with anyone.

"It's not fair to punish her just because you're into her?" Henry hadn't been asked to elaborate on his insults before either. It was very unnerving.

"I'm punishing Burns because she lost her temper with a Bottom. Knowing what you said, yes, she would have been justified in paddling you as hard as you're trying to goad me into doing. Unless you can honestly tell me that you pre-negotiated punishment in that area, it was a line cross equivalent to smacking your hole without your consent. Understood?"

Henry was sure his face was bright red. "A slap is so not the same thing as ... that."

"What's the difference, Keen?"

Oh. Bitch. "Sexual harassment, ma'am." His eyes went down to consider her lethally sharp heels. "Same difference between appropriate bratting and what I said."

"Clever boy." Indira tipped his chin back up with a black painted nail as lethally sharp as those heels. "Concern yourself with worrying about what Marshall is going to do to you when he gets here. You might have been the catalyst for Burns' choice, but she made it all on her own. Brats are frustrating, they say things that get under our skin. She knew the correct response and chose to do something else entirely."

Henry felt deflated. Indira hadn't allowed him any of the satisfaction he got from upsetting people, just a hollow guilt at trying the exact same tactic when he was already in trouble for it. He hadn't even distracted from Sadie's mistake.

Indira let them both stew while they waited for Marshall, Sadie in a position that had a few passersby looking over curiously. Henry gave every single person who slowed down the most disgusted glare he could and nearly all sped up again. Though he suspected that might have more to do with Indira watching them right back with the same expression of mild curiosity.

Marshall wasn't long. Henry hadn't been sure if he wanted time to slow down or speed up, but it was definitely a relief to see his Sir jogging across the courtyard towards them. At least until he grabbed Henry by the back of his collar and gave him a shake.

"What did you say to her, bunny?" Marshall demanded. "Exact words."

Henry couldn't remember exact, but he provided the jist of them. Claiming to have jerked off about spanking Sadie, accusing her of crossing lines with Joshua, accusing Indira of doing the same with Sadie. He didn't mention what he'd been doing with Frye before Sadie showed up.

Marshall hugged him.

He stiffened up, sure that was completely undeserved.

"Okay, bunny. This is a conversation we've had before, several times, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Henry mumbled.

"You're doing a bratting bonus module since you're doing a Top degree, right?" Marshall rubbed his back like he needed comforting for being an utter prick.

Henry nodded. Technically true.

"You should have covered plenty of other bratting techniques by now. All the playful ways Joshua does it. Try a few of those next time, love." Marshall hooked his belt loop and pulled him in close to his side. "Now, boys who start fights to get their opponent spanked, don't get to watch. With me."

The protest that Henry hadn't had any of those Bratting lessons yet dried up in his throat. He was in enough trouble. Maybe that stone just never got turned over. Henry was fine with that.

"Frye," Marshall nodded.

"Watch that one closely, Marsh," Frye grinned. "Came up to me all shy and cute and looking for some rough handling. He was the sweetest until Burns interrupted trying to pretend like she was his Top."

"Is that true, bunny?" Marshall asked.

Henry nodded. Admitting that felt worse than being made to repeat what he'd said.

Marshall broke into a huge grin. "That's huge news, love. My brave bunny. You were feeling naughty, so you got playful in public?"

Pulling away, Henry shrugged. He didn't get far with Marshall's hold on his belt loop.

"It's a shame it ended badly, but I'm still very proud of you for trying. And if a Top makes you feel uncomfortable you safe. I don't care how well you know them, I want you to say red even if it's me, okay?"

"Frye didn't make me feel uncomfortable," Henry muttered, sure he was blushing at the memory of being asked if he could get a better look.

"I meant Burns." Marshall's tone suddenly went colder than Henry had ever heard it. "Ma'am if you don't add extra for claiming him without his consent, I will."

Indira gave him a sharp look. "Try and tell me how to apply discipline again, Leon, and I'll give you a rerun of some of your more memorable punishments. Now, take him up to the private rooms and give him a good strapping."

Marshall gave her a mocking little salute. "So you get to tell me how to do it, but I can't tell you?"

"Precisely." Indira gave him a swat. "Final year privilege. Go."

He didn't wait for a third warning, just firmly led Henry away to his doom.

"Was she serious?" Henry asked quietly as they approached the steps of the library.

"That I should take my belt off for you, bunny? Yeah. Deadly serious. And I agree." Marshall kept steering him forward. "Lighter punishments haven't gotten through to you."

Henry swallowed nervously as they entered the library building and headed towards the stairs off to the side. "They might. If we tried those again."

"You know what to say if it's really too much, bunny. What you should have said to Burns when she started throwing her weight around."

"Don't," Henry pleaded.

"Don't what? Don't spank your bottom crimson and finish it off with a round of applause from my belt?" Marshall patted his arse, needing to twist awkwardly so he didn't have to let go of Henry's belt loop. "Sorry, bunny, you've earned it."

"Don't hate Sadie," Henry snapped. "It's Indira's fault for sending her to fetch me. What was she supposed to say? Hi, total stranger, may I please take custody of that brat you're staring at the arsehole of? No, I don't have any authority over him, but someone else with also fuck all authority told me to spoil his fun."

Marshall snorted, then tried to pretend he wasn't amused. "This a pigtails pulling situation? Crush or brat crush?"

"I'm not into Burns and what the hell is a brat crush?" Henry looked away, over the balcony and down at the library check out desk, as they passed the door to the exhibition gallery.

He knew one of the magnets available to stick on the doors in there was a P for punishment. He'd never dared go in when one of those was displayed. Didn't want to think about a punishment that required both voyeurism and a space where sexual acts were permitted.

Best case scenario it was figging or like what Lamb had done to his hole.

The balcony was very exposed, anyone walking along it was visible to anyone in the library. A little bit of extra exhibition or shame as they were seen entering the gallery or the private rooms.

"Crush you like her, brat crush you like her spanking hand." Marshall pulled him to a stop just past the gallery door, giving anyone who cared confirmation that Henry was in trouble. "I've always wanted to bend someone over that rail, but it's forbidden for safety reasons. Next time you mouth off about sex stuff to anyone who hasn't consented to it, I'll bring you up here with a stool and spank you on this balcony before repeating the rest of this punishment. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Henry said quietly. All he could think about was walking in on Warner and Tricia that first time. "I ... thought maybe, the gallery ..."

His Top let go of his belt loop, then reached around to hook through the opposite one, changing the leash to a sort of hug. "No, bunny. You get privacy and this isn't going to be anything we couldn't do in public."

"Sadie doesn't get privacy ..." Henry wished he could shut his mouth before he talked Marshall into upgrading his punishment.

"No, she doesn't." Marshall started moving again, leading him inevitably towards the rooms outfitted with a couple of benches at different heights and nothing else. The library had an implement section, but Marshall's belt was handy.

Henry didn't ask why not. Indira's decision.

"I went through a very similar hair pulling phase with Indira last year," Marshall said, casually. "Only she was confident enough to drag me up here for a reaming herself. And, yeah, I mean that in both senses."

"I said I'm not into Sadie." Henry shoved the door hard as they entered the corridor. "Indira's into Sadie."

"You don't need to be into her to want her to smack you silly, love." Marshall opened the first unoccupied door they came to. Chivalrously. "That's how it is with me and Indira. I'm not Top enough to turn her on, but she's the sort of mean I need when I'm naughty. Your choice of disciplinarian is just as important as your choice of lover."

Henry stormed past him and glared at the spanking benches.

The door closed behind them, Marshall flipping the sign to occupied. "Kneel on the lower bench, torso over the higher, hands on the floor."

The temptation was to throw something at him about being a sadistic bastard who wanted to hurt Henry. Thing was, it was true. Foundation of their relationship. Pointless to say because Marshall had never hidden it.

He knelt.

Shoved his tight jeans down.

Bent his torso over the bench and placed his hands flat on the floor on the other side.

Most of his weight had to go on his abdomen, the benches were designed with the higher at average waist height, so a lot of his body had to be leaning down the other side to reach. His arse rose, sit spots stretched worryingly taut.

"Sadie's shit at spanking," Henry grumbled, like she'd ever touched him. "She only does it for fun with Joshua and Lamb."

"And my bunny needs a proper seeing to," Marshall said, running a finger along Henry's sore crack. "If I'd given you a better spanking this morning, you wouldn't have needed to go fishing." He pushed his cheeks apart to get a good look. "How far did you get with Frye, bunny?"

Henry tried to clench, but even when Marshall let go the position spread him open. "He bent me over. Pulled everything down. Asked if ... if he could have a closer look at ... at what Lamb did."

"And what did you say?" Marshall's tone didn't give away what the right answer would be. If he was jealous or proud.

"I said yes. I, um, I liked it. Him looking where everyone could see. Then Sadie ruined it."

"That was naughty of him. Some people would consider that against the rules. Wrong teacher walked past and the pair of you would be getting a very nasty thrashing. I'll have to remind him to be more careful." Marshall adjusted his position, patting his hand against Henry's bottom as a warning he was about to start. "Frye takes a spanking nearly as well as you do, love. It's a pity this has to be a serious one. Remind me why we're here."

"I was fucking rude," Henry snarled. Frye could shoot confetti out of his dick when he came for all he cared. He'd been the means to an end. Marshall was better. "I don't need a warm-up."

"Bunny, taking my belt cold isn't —"

"It's what I deserve. Worst you've got." Henry didn't know how to get the message across any fucking clearer. He wanted a fight and the safest kind was his arse vs whatever Marshall wanted to hit it with.

There was a pause, then a clink of metal. "Okay. Whatever you ask for."

Probably thought it would be a lesson in be careful what you wish for. Joke was on him. Henry wished for something hard enough on the outside to match how he felt on the inside.

The hiss of Marshall's belt as it slid through its loops made Henry's heart feel like it was singing in harmony. His hands bunched into fists, still mostly braced against the floor.

He heard the buckle clinking again as Marshall doubled it over, making a controllable strap.

"I won't give you a number, bunny. Let's just see how many you can take." Marshall's tone indicated he didn't think it would be a very big number. "Forget safewords for this, I'm going to stop the first time you tell me to. No assumed consent."

"Green."

Marshall believed him. Another hiss and fire exploded across Henry's backside. He choked, kicking a leg involuntarily.

There was a pause. Marshall waited for him to tap out, but Henry kept his mouth shut.

After the initial flare, the pain simmered down, leaving a streak of warmth in its wake. Henry breathed into it. It felt ... not good, in the way being fucked through the sensitive moments right after orgasm did, but a similar intensity. He'd always been intense. Either in too deep or completely uncaring with no in between.

It matched him perfectly.

"Green," Henry said. "More. Harder."

Harder came. A vicious swipe across those stretched sit spots that thrummed through rudely awakened nerves.

There were tears on Henry's face, but they felt like relief. Release.

He smiled.

Teeth gritted. Defiant.

His breathing was rough and loud.

All the theory he'd read on what a Bottom gained from discipline clicked into place. Started making sense.

"Green."

His other punishments hadn't felt that way. Henry had felt more resentful afterwards. Too drained emotionally to do much but curl up in bed and permit whoever had done it to look after him, but always with a sense he hadn't had enough to justify the fuss.

Marshall's belt was thick and he'd been expecting early surrender. The third partially overlapped the first.

Henry slapped his hand, palm opening like a leaf to the sun, against the padded floor. Hard enough to make it sting, but it was lost against the inferno that had replaced his arse.

"Green. Fuck, just green."

Marshall obliged, letting his belt rise and fall again and again. He burnt across the entire curve of Henry's bottom. Intersecting stripes seared hope so deep Henry's bones jangled with it.

At some point he got noisy, unable to bite back his responses, but none of them were a 'no' or 'stop'. The instinct to struggle, to avoid, to fight came and went. He didn't break position.

Things Marshall had been saying for weeks finally sunk in. Soaked through as the pain crested and crashed over him.

That calling him love wasn't a cruel joke. That Lamb might needle, but he chose to continue to spend time with him. That no matter how Henry's dynamic presented they had him.

They'd chosen him.

It was that that broke him. Turned his repeated pleas of green into a single, soft no.

Marshall heard it. Had been listening for it since they started. His belt hit the floor with a soft thump and he was kneeling beside his boy a second later, wrapping himself around him to get as much contact as possible, though careful to avoid the doubtless scarlet streaked areas.

"You don't ever have to prove how tough you are with me, bunny," Marshall whispered. "I know. Don't ask me to go beyond your limits again."

Henry stiffened, feeling as though he'd been dunked in ice water. "Wasn't beyond my limits. Wasn't trying to prove anything."

The pleasant glow of finally feeling seen and heard and met on his level faded rapidly.

"You're purple, love," Marshall said, like Henry might have misunderstood something. "Worst I've ever seen. If you hadn't called it, I was about to. When Flick sees this ..."

"I bruise easily," Henry snapped, but he pressed closer to Marshall's warmth, that almost restraint the only thing holding him together. "Feels like what I needed."

"You aren't supposed ..."

Henry felt suddenly exhausted, the same way he had after other punishments. "Can't even take a strapping right, you mean. I know I'm a fuck up."

"Call yourself that again and I'll wash your mouth out," Marshall told him and the way he was rubbing Henry's back just above his tailbone did feel good. "No matter how sore this pretty little bottom is, your mouth can take it."

"Not so pretty in purple," Henry muttered. "Bet you won't touch me until it's all healed. Even though I've been punished." He pouted, knowing Marshall could see the expression from the side.

Marshall's hand drifted lower, teasing at his crack. "You're beautiful in every colour, love. But I need to be gentle with you until you heal, yes."

Henry pushed himself more upright, out of Marshall's touch, and settled his bottom on his heels. The stab of pain that caused made him feel almost like he had during the punishment. They could negotiate later. Once he had healed and Marshall could see there were no lasting ill effects and he'd be more open to the idea of doing it again.

What was important was that Henry had got exactly what he needed and he wanted to thank his Sir for it.

"You're right, sir." Henry patted the higher bench. "Sit here, please?"

Marshall raised an eyebrow, but complied, perhaps expecting Henry to lay his head on his knee. The couple of times Henry had seen Marshall after Indira had spanked him, that was his preferred way for her to give him comfort. Submissive posture, his hair being stroked, sore bottom, usually bare, tucked against his heels.

"What am I right about, bunny?" Marshall asked as Henry shifted over to kneel between his legs, looking up at him with a mischievous expression.

Henry unbuttoned Marshall's trousers, unzipping his fly teasingly slowly. His Sir was soft, but he knew the ways to solve that.

"No matter how sore my pretty little bottom is, sir, my mouth can take it."

Chapter Text

"Trousers off, Burns," Indira ordered.

Sadie bowed her head, the stone of the wall still cold against her palms. "Please? You know what he said!"

"And if you'd pulled out that hairbrush and tanned his bottom you wouldn't be in any trouble," Indira reminded her. "He received a public spanking for exactly the same thing and if you want to resist like he did, I'm sure Frye will oblige in holding you down."

"I can't!" Sadie protested. "Not in front of everyone."

"Do you need me to bare your bottom for your spanking?" Indira didn't have a drop of mercy in her. "There's no shame in needing help, only in refusing to ask for it."

Sadie nodded. "Please, ma'am."

At least she didn't have to see the people passing as the other side of the wall was mostly obscured by a large bush, but that just meant all those she knew were behind her would be able to see her bare bottom. Indira reached around to easily undo her trousers blind and swatted Sadie's hand out of the way when she automatically tried to stop her.

The cool breeze on her bottom was awful. The closest equivalent Sadie had experienced was in class with Keen and that embarrassment had been reduced by how angry she'd felt at him and Wiel and the way half the class was in the same predicament. Keen might have been bent over in the same spot recently, but right that moment hers was the only bottom on display that she knew about.

She pulled her blazer closer around her. Part of her wanted to rip it off instead. Bad enough that she was obviously about to be punished, but anyone would be able to tell she was a Top and therefore assume she'd done something worse than naughty. And if anyone from her lifestyle classes saw, that would be the final nail in her assumed brat coffin.

"Well done for asking, Sadie," Indira said. "You understand why you're here?"

Sadie shifted, hoping it didn't look like a squirm. "Yes, ma'am. I lost my temper with a brat and struck him across the face." The lecture on the elements of a full confession and what questions to ask to get one was fresh in her mind, only yesterday, so she added. "As a tamer Top it is especially important that I am able to maintain my calm whenever I am dealing with brats, because my purpose is to provide a safe environment for them to rebel against a figure who will not back down or respond unfairly. Inconsistent discipline destroys that sense of safety and angry discipline is always inconsistent."

"You swallow a textbook, Burns?" Frye asked, then yipped as Indira swatted him.

"Perfect answer, Sadie," she praised. "But that's not all, is it?"

The thing Marshall had been furious about. "I said Keen was mine. I lied."

"I told you to find out what he was being disciplined for and bring him back if it wasn't personal for the Top. That would have been a good opportunity to administer a real punishment. Do you think Keen is going to easily trust you again, now you've demonstrated you are willing to lie to try and control him?"

"No, ma'am. I thought he couldn't possibly be comfortable with ... with what was happening and ... I wanted to offer him an easy out. I wasn't trying to control him. Just help." They definitely could have had this conversation before Sadie's bum was exposed to the world, but she understood, as much as she hated, how effective it was for focusing her mind on what she'd done wrong.

"That is what safewords are for. He had all the tools to get himself out of anything he didn't want. Don't ever assume you know what someone else wants if they haven't explicitly told you," Indira said. "And you've already answered the question of why I'm here. You know the consequences Keen suffered and it would be inconsistent not to give you the same, don't you agree?"

"Please don't hold me down," Sadie said in a small voice.

"That was something extra he earned for trying to run," Indira reminded her. "You're accepting this with far more grace. Mainly because you're not a brat. You have very little instinct to resist. Remember that Keen both has that instinct and is trying to suppress it, making it all the stronger when he fails, and that the correct response to his testing is a smacked bottom."

"Yes, ma'am," Sadie said again. She felt awful enough about it that she was almost certain she'd never do it again, but she really did understand the importance of consistency. Besides, her teachers and Top mentors were always going on about the catharsis of punishment and she hadn't had one for something she genuinely felt guilty about yet.

Indira reached into Sadie's pocket and pulled out the hairbrush. "Do you need a warm-up, Burns?" Back to her surname, unlike the praise delivered with her first. If they hadn't covered epithets, diminutives and nicknames in lifestyle last week, Sadie might not have noticed.

"I ... I don't know," Sadie admitted. "I haven't had my carry used on me yet. Or, really, used it."

"Yes, then," Indira decided and put the hairbrush in her own pocket for the moment. "This is a serious offence, one that is going on your official record, Burns. And university policy is that if something similar is flagged a second time you'll be sent a pink disciplinary slip suggesting a strapping. A third and you'll be at morning assembly for a caning. After that your disciplinary licence is revoked and a disciplinary mentor assigned for a probation period. DMs are brat breakers and as a Top you'd get even less leeway."

Sadie understood the strictness. Bratford was set up in a way that made responsible topping essential. If every Top and Switch was required to have a basic license by the end of first year and anyone with one of those licenses could discipline any brat, there needed to be severe consequences for anyone abusing that power.

It did worry her, at school she'd had a reputation for having a temper, but in retrospect that seemed more like her responding as any tamer with zero idea what that even was would to being targeted by bratty bullies. She certainly now thought that putting them over her knee would've been far more effective and satisfying than swinging punches. Not that the school would've seen that as any less concerning. Probably even more so.

"I understand, ma'am," Sadie said. "I'm ready to receive my punishment." If she said it confidently enough maybe it would be true.

Indira didn't give any more praise or scolding, but placed one hand on Sadie's back, just above her tailbone, not quite restraint, and brought the other down with a crisp smack. It hurt, far more than Heidi or Bas or Keen and she knew the difference was that she'd really, truly messed up. She took it, as quietly as she could manage, not wanting to make a fuss about getting what she deserved.

Each flare of pain was a grim reminder of what she'd done. They'd extensively covered the safe areas for discipline in class and while the face had the cheeks highlighted yellow, they were surrounded by so many red no go areas that the teacher had advised only light slaps and only with prior negotiated specific consent. Which Sadie definitely hadn't had. She'd swung with all her strength and if her hand had slipped or she'd had larger hands or been stronger she could be looking at a broken nose, lost teeth or an injury around the orbital or zygomatic regions where bone was closer to the surface.

Nothing Keen actually deserved. Though she was a bit disappointed she didn't get to watch his punishment either.

The smacks were ramping up in intensity, making it hard to stay still and quiet. And there was no doubt it was going to get worse. Indira was still just using her hand. A warm-up before they got to the real punishment and Sadie was trembling with the effort of staying still, noises escaping her mouth despite herself.

There was finally a pause and she clenched her bum, knowing that meant a change in implement.

The hairbrush tapped lightly, then just lay against her sore bottom for a moment. "Relax, Burns," Indira told her. "This is going to hurt plenty without you making it worse on yourself."

"You try relaxing with that thing waiting!" Sadie whined.

"I've been on your end more times than I care to count," Indira told her firmly. "I got all the way up to that public caning before I worked out control."

Sadie felt like her heart had stopped. "Does that mean ...?"

"If I lose my temper one more time, even though it's been two years since I last did, I'd have my licenses revoked and be put under the care of a DM? Yes. That record doesn't go away. I'm planning on doing my Masters here too and I'll still have that hanging over me even then. But I find being on a final warning sort of comforting. It's there to threaten myself with whenever I recognise I'm about to lose control."

The thought of a strapping did make Sadie want to run and hide, so she could see how knowing that was the consequence might make her think twice. She forced herself to unclench, trying to surrender to the overwhelming force that was Indira.

"That's it, Sadie," Indira said, sounding actually delighted. "It's counterintuitive, but I love a Top who can take orders."

Sadie thought of Elly and discovered there was a more embarrassed she could be. Indira was hot. Like really hot and what she'd said when Henry had said ...

That train of thought was derailed by the smack of hairbrush against her bottom.

"You really didn't pick an easy one for your first implement spanking," Indira told her. "If you had a little more experience, I'd be breaking out something a lot heavier."

Sadie didn't confess that it wasn't really her first. It was bad enough having the brush whipping down to sting her bottom into miserable repentance without admitting she was passingly familiar with a crop.

The hairbrush felt more than heavy enough, adding a layer of thuddier burn to the already stinging surface. One of her feet kicked up in an instinct as uncontrollable as reflex and, a few smacks later, she found herself laying all her weight over the wall so she could drum her feet against the ground.

"That's it, Burns, you can struggle all you need to," Indira assured her. "But if you try and kick me, I'll be applying my flogger to the bottom of your feet."

Sitting comfortably was already a distant memory, Sadie couldn't lose walking as well. She stilled her feet and wailed instead, not even caring who saw or heard. "I'm sorrrrrryyyyy!"

"I know you are, but you've earned a much worse spanking than this. There's another difference between you and Keen. He did it before he'd had a single lesson in the care a Top owes a Bottom."

Sadie whimpered loudly. "Noooo!" Her bottom was flaming and the smacks just kept coming.

"I'm going to tell Flick about this and recommend he give you a top up every evening for a week. And if he isn't willing to do that, I'll have you reporting at dinner with Keen and Lamb for a spanking over my knee instead."

She'd have to beg Flick to do it. Having to walk over to Indira's with Keen when he knew exactly why she was would be torture and he'd say the worst thing possible and she'd wind up breaking her promise not to slap him again before the end of the week.

"Don't wanna ..." A particularly hard swat to the middle of her sit spots left her stunned. If her legs had been a little wider apart that could've been directly on her vagina. Which was a terrifying and exciting thought. Would Indira do that? Probably not without prior consent unless it was a mistake, but if Sadie asked ...

"Of course you don't want it, it wouldn't be effective if you did," Indira reminded her, no indication that she'd deliberately sent Sadie into yet another possible switch panic or that she'd noticed if it had been an accident. "And keeping your bottom sore for a full week will be unpleasant enough to make up for the fact you have no idea how bad a strapping would actually be."

Sadie clenched her thighs together, but she thought if they'd been in private she might've taken the risk of spreading them instead. Maybe she wasn't so confident she wanted Flick for the rest.

Indira didn't give her time to think, continuing with smart raps of the brush that drove all other thoughts away.

She was out of fight, just lying there limply as the hairbrush swatted her further and further down.

With one last mighty whack to the junction of her thighs that made Sadie very grateful she'd chosen the defensive option, Indira finished spanking.

The hairbrush clicked as Indira set it aside on the wall. "All done for today, Sadie, you took that very bravely," she said softly. "Do you want aftercare here or to go somewhere more private?"

"Private," Sadie managed between gulping sobs. "'vryone saw...?" She wailed miserably as her underwear and trousers were pulled up over her sore bottom.

"Yes, sweetie, everyone saw you get your naughty little bottom spanked. And they all knew you deserved it. And that's okay, because we've all either been in the same position already or we will be in the future. Rule number one is that no one is above discipline here. Including public discipline. I've had lessons where the teacher has had to bend over for the head of department because they were treating a student in that class unfairly. And plenty of times it's been my naughty little bottom presented bare for a public smacking."

Sadie would just die if she had to watch a teacher get it. Unless it was Wiel.

She let Indira help her up and picked up her newly hateable hairbrush when ordered.

"There are private discipline rooms in nearly every building," Indira said, steering Sadie towards the library after a brief farewell to Frye. "Let's get set up in one of those for a proper cuddle."

"Is Keen ...?"

Indira hesitated. "Don't worry about what's happening to Keen, Sadie. He consented."

That didn't help much. "I put him in a bad situation. He lashed out. He shouldn't ..."

"Keen has the same safewords you do." Indira turned left towards the stairs just inside the library entrance, steering Sadie inexorably forward. "Whatever you're imagining, he's an adult and can revoke consent at any time. Even if Marsh took him up to the exhibition gallery, he'd have the freedom to stop it at any point."

"Gallery?" Sadie frowned. "Like, paintings?"

"Exhibitionist gallery," Indira clarified. "For those who want to show off their sexual encounters and those who want to watch them." She nodded at a door as they passed it along the balcony above the library. "Just in there."

That made enough sense for Sadie to get over her initial shock reasonably quickly. As long as it was all consensual, just ... "But as punishment, that's horrible!"

"You saw how red Henry was between his cheeks," Indira said, like that was a normal thing to discuss. "A hard spanking on his hole would be crossing the line in most places, but if Marshall wanted to add the embarrassment of an audience, he'd take him up there to do it."

Sadie's legs automatically clenched together, making her stumble slightly. She looked at the unassuming door curiously. How did Indira know so much about it? Had she ever ...?

Indira stopped walking to let Sadie find her balance again as she added, "Being in public actually adds a layer of safety, if his safeword was disrespected there are people around to step in. And while the consequences for losing your temper are harsh, ignoring a safeword is straight to the DM, catching those thrashings on the way."

That didn't shake Sadie's sense of wrong. "I did so much worse and I'm not ..."

Indira put a hand on her shoulder. "Okay. Do you want to go see him now, check for yourself that he's okay with it, or do you want to go to the aftercare room and I can text Marshall to bring him down once they're done and you can check in with him then?"

Did Sadie want to see ...

"I won't be able to relax while I'm worried about him, ma'am," Sadie said, knowing which answer that really was. "But I don't know if he'd want me to see him like that. Not after I ..."

She was surprised by the force of Indira's hug.

"I'll check with him before you're allowed in the room," Indira said. "But, Sadie, fair warning, the way you're talking makes me think you haven't let go of all your guilt yet. Hopefully the week of spankings will get you past it, but if you're still talking this negatively about yourself after that, I'm going to have to discipline you further."

Sadie nodded faintly, her mind coming up with a lot of options that would be more appealing than the reality of what that statement meant.

The thing about Indira was that she liked Tops. And she hadn't made Sadie feel like anything but one while she'd been bent over. One Top holding another Top accountable for hurting a Bottom.

If Indira could see Sadie as an equal while she spanked her to tears, maybe ...

"Wait a moment," Indira ordered. She pulled her phone out to check Marshall's location on TATL.

Down below Sadie could see students browsing books, checking the catalogue on the provided screens and, in one case, bent over the check out desk while a librarian administered a punishment for losing or damaging a book.

Seeing that helped her feel less awful about her public discipline. Like she felt sorry for the girl, her Top blazer folded up out of the way, but she didn't think she was pathetic for being punished. Even though she was yelling with every stroke of the pointer.

"Private rooms," Indira said and Sadie thought there was an amount of relief in her tone. Despite what she'd said about the gallery, she didn't think punishing Keen for being inappropriate with something sexual made sense. Probably. That was what Sadie thought, anyway.

Unless she was just glad she didn't have to take Sadie in there.

Indira led her through the door at the end and when she shut it the yelling became very muffled. The private rooms had a sense of calm, even though a few showed as occupied. It likely wasn't just brats in need of a spanking who ended up there. Indira had been planning to use one for aftercare and Sadie could see how this atmosphere would be nice for someone who'd become overwhelmed and needed a break.

"Okay. Face the corner while I go ask," Indira said, with complete expectation that she would be obeyed.

Sadie took a step backwards. Being put in corner time was an extra humiliation she couldn't accept.

"Burns," Indira warned, switching back to her surname to really emphasise that Sadie was courting trouble. "A red bottom time out is acceptable anywhere on campus. I won't hesitate to give you one here."

"You can't —"

A hard swat had Sadie quickly stepping into the corner, then Indira was undoing her trousers yet again.

"The only thing that's going to stop me, Burns, is you giving me a nice clear safeword. Are you going to do that?"

"N-no, ma'am." Sadie felt another cool breeze in places she'd never expected to as her clothes dropped.

"Now, you're going to stay right here and wait patiently or you'll be finding out exactly how much more that brush hurts between your cheeks."

Sadie's stomach flipped. She'd seen Frye spread Keen wide to display the redness there, so that couldn't be completely out of the question elsewhere on campus. Nothing inside and no touching his dick, he'd said. And a private room or the exhibition gallery would allow Indira to touch wherever she liked.

Indira smoothed her hand over the tender skin. "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you consent to those consequences?"

Sadie hesitated. "What happens if I don't?"

"I change my threat to your sit spots and assume I'm wrong about the reason you keep bringing up what you did. Hearing about a punishment and immediately reminding me that you did worse sounds a lot like you're angling for a taste of exactly that, Sadie. True or false?"

Sadie swallowed, her bottom feeling somehow more exposed than earlier even though they were the only people in the corridor. "I consent to those consequences, ma'am."

Indira spread her buttocks.

Sadie's hands flew back automatically, but she stopped herself from trying to cover up. "Yes, ma'am. Green."

"So. True or false?" Indira asked again. "You're intrigued by the idea of me either having sex with you or punishing you with a sexual component?"

There was nowhere to hide. Sadie had been stripped bare and had never felt so vulnerable. "True. Ma'am. But you have a girlfriend?"

Indira let go and stepped back, then gave Sadie another swat that overlapped both cheeks. "Yes, I'd need to inform Elly, but we're open. If I want to play with a little Top who's curious about trying submission, she'll be very happy for me. Ask Marshall, being someone's switch awakening is something I find incredibly hot. And you're still doubting that silly test, because how you identify within yourself is much more important than a piece of paper. Now, behave. I need to ask Keen if you're allowed to check in on him."

Sadie considered that as Indira walked away. Did that mean Marshall had identified as a Top until he'd met Indira? She could imagine it, the man didn't seem like he had a strong submissive streak, even if he deferred to Indira. He called himself a brat, but there wasn't much evidence of it.

The corridor was quiet enough that she could hear Indira knocking, a door open and soft voices. There wasn't much risk of anyone seeing Sadie standing there, unless they came out of those occupied rooms, but she felt utterly humiliated.

It didn't help that she was turned on, trying not to imagine Indira topping her with the same firm attitude she'd punished her with. The difference to how it felt with Bas was stark. Only one diminutive and Indira had followed it up by applying it equally to herself.

Sadie's heart raced at the thought of Indira bent over for her naughty little bottom to receive a spanking. It was hard to imagine. Every part of her was sharp and tough. All leather and no lace.

Her nails had bitten half-moons into Sadie's bottom when she'd pulled her open. She imagined she could still feel the pinch.

A few moments later, Indira was there, resting her hand on Sadie's sore bottom almost possessively. "He says it's okay, because, and I quote, if you find it hot he can tease you forever."

Sadie swallowed. "So, he hasn't learned ..."

Indira patted her in warning. "He's learned that there are different rules when two people are attracted to each other. If you enjoy his pain, he's willing to offer you it. Keen is telling you, in a remarkably bratty way, that he knows you play with Joshua and Lamb and is asking to be included. If you do, you will likely be subjected to a deluge of puns around your sadism and your name."

That didn't quite match with the other things Keen had said. If he thought he was getting on top with her, he could go fuck himself.

"Still want to check on him?"

Sadie nodded. "If he's talking like that, I'm sure he is, just ..."

"You need to see for yourself." Indira knelt to collect Sadie's clothes from around her ankles and drew them up sharply. "The slightest hint of trouble from you and I'll smack your bare bottom right in front of him."

Inside the private room, Keen leaned against Marshall, both of them seated on a two tiered spanking bench, using the higher part as a back rest.

Keen raised his head as they entered. "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours."

Sadie scowled at him. "I'm sorry I interrupted your game with Frye, I thought you needed an exit. And I'm sorry I slapped you. I should have paddled your arse bright red."

"Indira's made you very polite, Burns."

"And Marshall hasn't managed the same with you." Sadie folded her arms. "You're fine. If anything you need a bit more to find your manners. I was an idiot to worry."

For the third time in a very short period, Indira's fingers hooked into her waistband and pulled sharply down. Sadie found herself turned to the side, so Henry could clearly see her bottom, and Indira's hand pattering against her sore bum.

"That was a nice apology, Sadie," Indira said, "but we do not call anyone an idiot. Including ourselves."

She let her up a moment later and Sadie reached back to rub the new sting away.

Keen stood up, turned around and dropped his trousers. Apparently, his sense of fairness counted that as showing hers. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the higher section of the spanking bench so she could get the best look.

Sadie couldn't hold back a gasp of horror. "Are you —"

He was a dark, blotchy burgundy from the top of his arse to partway down his thighs. Almost a perfect match for her blazer. Individual strokes couldn't be made out, just a solid block of soreness.

"If anything I need a bit more to help me find my manners, ma'am," Keen said, giving her words a mocking twist. "If you wanted to give me the hairbrushing you threatened, I consent. It's not as bad as it looks. I bruise easily."

For the first time, Sadie spotted Marshall's belt lying on the floor. Yeah, anyone would bruise easily if they had that across their backside.

She stepped forward and gave him a single hard swat across the worst looking spot. "Consider yourself forgiven, Henry. And that was a very nice apology too. Next time I'll be sure to aim all my hits at your naughty little bottom."

He shifted slightly. Her first squirm!

But you're welcome to try! emblazoned on his back as a challenge, Henry remained in position. "Like what you see, Burns?"

Sadie gave him another, lighter swat. "I think your attitude needs work, but your bum is just right." She needed to remember she was the Top. Assert dominance without demanding anything from him. "Marshall, if you haven't given him a good coating of arnica yet, why not?"

Marshall gave Indira a nervous glance. "He's had numbing gel. There's arnica in it, but ... well, look at him. I went too far."

Indira stepped forward, examining Keen's bottom with a critical eye. He jumped as she traced a, to Sadie's eyes, random path diagonally across his backside with her finger.

"This stroke was sloppy, Marshall," Indira scolded. "But otherwise good work. And he isn't wrong, there's room for more before you should worry."

Henry opened his mouth.

"No, you can't have more," Indira said firmly. "Part of this lesson is that when you're naughty you have agreed to surrender the choice of what you get for it to a Top. Your Top. And if you keep arguing, Keen, you're going to taste soap. Now, sit on Marshall's lap and let him hold you."

"You went easy on Sadie," Keen accused as he stood and went to perch himself on Marshall's knee. It looked a bit silly with the few inches taller Keen was, but he scrunched himself up and relaxed into Marshall's arms.

"Yes, I did." Indira took a seat on the bench next to the pair and patted her knee. "Here, Sadie. Leave those down."

"Why?" Henry went still as Marshall's hand slipped under his bottom and gave it a warning squeeze.

Sadie hesitated. She'd rather spend an hour in the corner than ...

"Because she understood exactly what she did wrong. Because she made no attempt to fight or argue about her guilt. And because she's going to get a spanking of that intensity every night for a week. Burns. Your bottom can go on my knee or over it, your choice."

With a stubborn tilt of her chin, Sadie stepped forward and draped herself bottom up over Indira's lap. Expecting a swat, she started in surprise at a gentle rub to her sore bum.

"Good girl," Indira said, definitely petting her there more than necessary. "Is this how you want to take your comfort? Marshall likes a submissive position too, though he makes sure to keep his bottom well away from where it can be swatted."

There was an arm laying over Sadie's back, anchoring her. She relaxed. It was more comfortable than she'd expected. Bas preferred her OTK for his hand, bent over the side of the bed for the crop and spooned up behind and inside her for comfort. He hadn't actually asked how she'd prefer it. Not that she'd have had any other suggestions.

Not until now.

"Yes, ma'am," Sadie said quietly. "I like this."

Indira kneaded the flesh of her bottom, her nails unexpectedly blunt. Sadie twisted and saw that she'd removed her false nails leaving neatly clipped, gentle curves on warm, brown fingers. She'd been too busy staring at Keen's bruises to notice when those had gone. Just so Indira could touch her without scratching.

"What do you like about this, Sadie?" Indira's hand traced over every sore part of her, leaving a not unpleasant tingling behind. "The implicit surrender to me? The display of trust in someone who just paddled you to tears? The easy access I have to your bottom?"

Sadie nodded. "A-all of that, ma'am. Makes me feel, um, forgiven? Like I'm offering and you say I'm good enough not to get more."

Indira didn't ask further, just continued the soothing stroking. It never went beyond her sit spots, though Sadie knew she wouldn't argue if those fingers did dip inside her. The lightest caress there would be fireworks along her spine. Inevitable, irrevocable confirmation that what she was doing with Bas wasn't what she truly wanted.

Sadie yawned softly.

If she lifted her head slightly, she could see Keen and Marshall, wrapped up in each other and unconcerned with what Indira was doing to Sadie.

"No, I know what I said, bunny," Marshall whispered. "This is kind of the hardest punishment I've ever given. I reached my limit of what I can give you."

Keen nodded, head tucked into the crook of Marshall's neck. "That time you told me to brat to my limit and ..."

"We stopped trying that method for a reason. It's okay to be able to take high severity, that doesn't mean you always need to. I want to look after you ..."

"Fix me."

"You're not broken, love." Marshall rocked them gently. "You've got a few bad habits I want to train you out of, but that prickly shell hiding your real sweetness, that's something I never want to take away from you. I want my little bunny scars and teeth and all."

"I don't have any scars." A fat tear ran down Henry's face and Sadie quickly looked at the floor, wishing she hadn't insisted on seeing if he was okay. It was a private moment.

"Not on the outside," Marshall semi-agreed. "You can stop running whenever you like, bunny, let me catch you."

"I ..." Whatever Henry had been about to say, he changed his mind. He twisted slightly so he could swat Marshall's thigh. "That's from Frye for not hunting me properly. He's said he'd be interested in literal catching and fun spanking, so step up your game, Leon, before I find something better."

Marshall sighed quietly. "You can't keep delaying this conversation with sex, bunny."

Keen's eyes darted towards Indira and Sadie. "Not in front of them, please, sir?"

Somehow, Sadie didn't think he was referring to the sex.

Chapter Text

Lamb limped through the door to their dorm to find all four of his dormmates lying on their stomachs on the sofas while Flick fussed over them. Four bare bottoms in varying shades of pink pointed upwards.

"Wow," Lamb said, shutting the door. "You didn't even invite me along to cause whatever trouble. Rude."

"Oh, they all caused different trouble," Flick told him with a sigh. Enjoying having sore butts to fuss over, but not that he needed to split his attentions. "Sadie and Keen got in a slap fight which Sadie won with an actual slap and they got spanked by Indira and Marshall. Joshua is sore from a scene with Birch." He hesitated. "And I spanked Albert."

The obvious question was for what, but Lamb didn't ask. Albert hated talking about his punishments afterwards. If it was Lamb's business, someone would tell him. Otherwise, he would just be being nosy.

Albert's bottom was even redder than Sadie's, shading closer to Henry's, and he knew exactly how severe her crime was. Usually it was only Alby who got spanked and then lightly because he was very Little. Albert screwing up enough to get what looked like a strapping from Flick was beyond unprecedented and into this might be an alternate universe nonsense.

It was absolutely boiling, so Lamb hung up his jacket, left his shoes on the rack and went to the thermostat in the kitchen.

"Touch that dial, little boy, and I'll be adding your bottom to the collection," Flick warned. "It's so they don't get chilly."

Lamb tapped the dial, touching it but not shifting the temperature. That made sense, it just hadn't occurred to him. He pouted at Flick. "But my bottom's already sore, sir."

Really delightfully so. He'd known it was coming, but the CNC club had taken his request to be surprised very literally. Walking back to the dorm from class, Trapper had fallen into step right behind him with a blunted knife and pressed it against his kidney.

Quiet orders to act naturally and get into a car that had been waiting in the parking lot. A hood shoved over his head and being driven a confusing route to disguise the fact they were headed back onto campus. Trapper, or whoever had been on the other side of the backseat, sandwiching him in the middle, had unzipped Lamb's trousers and idly played with him the whole way.

Exactly how he'd described it when he'd requested the scene.

"Is that so?" Flick said, obviously delighted at having another opportunity for excessive aftercare. "Then you can march your sore bottom over to the sofas and present it nicely like the others. Keen resisted, why don't you ask him how well that ended?"

"Don't do it," Keen advised and left the details at that.

There were three sofas and Sadie and Joshua were the only ones sharing. Albert cringed away as he approached. Keen it was.

Lamb stripped out of his brat uniform trousers and tossed them haphazardly on the coffee table before lying down, foot to foot with Keen.

They'd helped him clean up, afterwards. Wrapped him into a robe so he could walk the short distance to the gym and use the communal showers there, just so they could all contribute to looking after him. The only outer sign of the rough use they'd put him to was the bruising from the different implements they'd each used for letting the person before them in line have him.

In his fantasy, the line had just kept going, but the club had an eight Top maximum policy. That had been wonderfully intense and, Lamb might admit to himself only, nearly too much. The attention had been amazing though.

Even with them going one at a time, Lamb had been constantly touched by the others. Crowding around to coo and jerk off over him. He'd been a prize; claimed and treasured.

"Good boy," Flick praised. "Did, um, the Top offer arnica?"

"Yes, sir." Lamb grinned at the memory. Trapper had gone first and last. Instead of an implement, he'd wielded arnica, smoothing it over Lamb's arse with special attention to the best crevices.

"And did you accept?" Flick added, demonstrating his familiarity with brat tactics.

"Yes, sir."

Keen kicked him lightly, mostly hitting Lamb's toes. "And did you enjoy getting your arse played with?"

"Obviously." Lamb didn't understand why Henry would ask a question he definitely knew the answer to.

Flick sighed deeply. "Henry. Lift up your hips."

With an annoyed huff, Henry obeyed and Flick slid a cushion under him to keep his bottom elevated.

"This is your final warning before I fetch a paddle, Henry," Flick said and landed a furious flurry of swats to the Switch's near purple bottom. "Your inappropriate comments are what Sadie lost her temper about and you're still making them after a serious punishment? We can go into my study if you want privacy, but by the end of today I will hear what's got you so out of sorts, kid."

Lamb liked Henry's 'inappropriate' comments. They could be very hot in the right context.

"Fuck off," Keen said and yelped as that got his sit spots attacked. He subsided into a stubborn silence when Flick paused and asked again.

"I'm not giving up until you're ready to talk," Flick said. "That cushion stays where it is. A reminder of how vulnerable your poor little bottom is and will remain."

Lamb started when Flick moved on to him, placing his hand on his bottom. Then he pushed up a little to offer it better.

"Heat doesn't feel too bad, Ru," he reported. "You've got some lovely stripes, which I'm sure you're very proud of. What drink would you like?"

"I'm not thirsty, thanks." Lamb saw the other four wince as one.

"That isn't an option, little boy," Flick told him. "You will choose a drink or you will get water and whichever it is, you will drink it all. And then I'll get you a refill to sip at more slowly."

"Uh, hot chocolate? With marshmallows?" With the thermostat turned up, it was too warm for that to really be appealing, but it would send Flick to the kitchen for a bit.

"Okay, but the refill will be plain water. Too much sugar before dinner otherwise." Flick patted Lamb's bottom firmly. "Stay right here, little boy. I just proved I'm willing to spank even though you're already sore, so behave." He stood up and headed to the kitchen, giving Joshua and Sadie warning pats on his way past.

Lamb snuggled down onto the sofa, feeling nearly perfectly at peace. There was still the worry about why Henry was bratting so hard and concern for Albert, but lying there with nothing on his lower half feeling the aftereffects of a scene he'd directed and starred in was brilliant.

Sadie was hiding her face, trying to suffocate herself in the sofa cushions so she wouldn't have to experience the embarrassment. Albert was crying quietly. Keen was seething.

Only Joshua seemed as happy with the situation. He wriggled a little, grinning to himself. There was a single proper cane track right where he'd feel it most when he sat and a lighter pink everywhere else. It was hard not to assume that was a claiming brand.

"Birch finally take you for a proper spin?" Lamb asked. "You can train to build masochism, you know. Start as light as you like it and work your way up. You'll be getting off on a real caning if you stick with it. Pun intended."

Keen turned his head to frown at him. "What pun?"

"Canes are sticks, bunny," Lamb informed him.

Sadie's attempt to become one with the sofa cushions wasn't too worrying, but Albert's soft crying wasn't stopping. He was shaking with it, but trying to keep himself quiet, not bawling for attention like usual.

Lamb got up, unconcerned about Flick's possible retribution, and went to sit next to Albert. "Hey, Alby."

"Albert," came the cross little reply.

"You've had a big punishment, Albert," Lamb said neutrally. "Would you like a big cuddle? Would that help you feel better?"

Albert shrugged. "Deserved it."

"I'm sure you did. You also deserve big cuddles." Lamb leaned back on the sofa. "They're right here when you want them."

There was a pause, during which Flick looked over and gave Lamb an approving nod. Then Albert launched himself into Lamb's arms, curling up as small as he could.

Lamb slid a hand under his bottom so he could lift him up and keep most of his weight off it. "I've got you, baby. I'm right here. It's okay."

Albert sniffled against his shoulder. "I was really bad."

"Hey, Flick, you got any soap over there for naughty boys who say they're bad?" Lamb called, careful not to raise his voice too much and keep his tone playful and gentle. "We don't use words like that to describe anyone, baby. No matter how sore your little bum is, you're so so good."

He felt Albert relax a tiny amount. "But Flick's so so upset."

Flick held up a bottle of soap tabs and rattled it. "Still a few in here for those naughty mouths," he said, cheerfully. Upset really didn't seem like a risk.

"Do you want me to ask him for a hug for you, Albert?" Lamb asked. "Flick doesn't hug boys he's very upset with."

That was a blatant lie, but Albert perked up at the idea that there might be a line someone could cross that would exclude them from hugs from Flick and that he might not have yet crossed it.

Albert nodded. "Please, si- um."

Lamb hid his wince at the epithet by shifting his grip on Albert the moment he realised he had. "If it helps you for me to be sir right now, baby, I can be sir."

For a moment he thought Albert might commit to it and ask to call him daddy and, honestly, Lamb wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face if he had. Instead Albert snuggled against his chest and shook his head. "No, but thank you, Lamb."

He went quiet, but the crying had mostly stopped. Lamb just kept holding him.

Joshua pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could look accusingly at Henry. "Hey, Keen, hey!" he hissed quietly. "You haven't been attending class."

Keen stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about, Tatham."

He so obviously did.

"All the other switch brats doing Top or non-lifestyle degrees have moved into our brat class," Joshua said. "Except you. So, either you're skipping, which Flick would know about because he'd be the one dealing with a deluge of punishment slips, or you haven't passed your licence."

Lamb's heart sank. That ... would explain a lot.

It would also be very very bad for the health of Henry's bottom and Lamb was getting attached to it. Frequently.

"There's more than one Fresher brat class, Tatham." Henry's shoulders gave his guilt away, tortoising up to his ears.

"And they split it so dormmates share," Lamb countered. He'd been pushing Henry to smack random brats. No wonder he'd been so reluctant. But not reluctant enough to not do it. While knowing he shouldn't. "Now is the time to admit it, Keen. Because Flick can easily check a lie. Hell, I can. Show us your student card."

Keen didn't move. "I lost my new one, so I'm using my old one until they send a replacement."

"That's convenient. Hey, Flick!"

Albert made a distressed noise and Lamb quickly turned back to him. "Oh! Sorry for making a big noise, baby. You're not in any trouble, Keen's just courting a mouthful of soap." His tone went harsh again. "And a hell of a sore arse. I've seen you swat brats, Keen, you're sure acting like you passed that test."

Flick came over, drying his hands on a tea towel. "What's the problem, Lamb?"

"Could you check Keen's uni record? See if he's passed the basic disciplinary licence. There's a little confusion on that point and I don't want to be accusing him of punishing brats without one if it's all good." Lamb did not think it was all good.

Flick tucked the tea towel in his belt and started typing on his phone. There was a tense silence as he did so.

"Ah."

That tiny noise had Keen putting his hands back, spread protectively over his bottom. He knew what the result was.

Flick sat down heavily on the sofa next to Sadie. "Fucking hell, kid. What am I even ... I need D— I need to discuss this. With a more ... experienced Top." They all heard the word he was going to say instead of experienced. Harsh. Someone who could go to the level required for that offence. And Flick had avoided saying Darius, the obvious choice.

Sadie sat up. "Henry Arthur Keen! Take yourself to the study at once and plant your nose in a corner. I doubt you'll be punished again today, since the university will need to make the final decision on your consequences, but you can consider yourself on zero tolerance for that period. I'll certainly enforce it."

Keen got up quickly, reaching for his trousers. "You slapped me, Burns. Got yourself a nice, public, bare spanking for it with a week of more on the way. Why the hell would I let you?"

"Leave. Those." Lamb bounced Albert gently as he spoke. "Sadie's entirely authorised to punish brats physically. You aren't. I don't think it's quite sunk in yet how much you've fucked up, Keen. You lied to me, to everyone. Mull it over in the corner. Now."

With a glare at Joshua, for tumbling his house of fragile lies, Keen stalked off to the study and slammed the door behind him.

"I'm going to text Indira and Marshall," Sadie told them. "Flick, should I ask them to come round? She's, um, good with discipline and he's Keen's main Top."

Flick nodded faintly.

"Tricia too," Lamb suggested. "She's final year Applied Discipline like D— um, like that might be another good call."

He suspected Flick's reluctance to even name Dare was related to Albert's condition. For fuck's sake, if Dare needed a sweet, innocent Fresher for some scheme, why couldn't he have asked Joshua? Lamb and Henry couldn't pass as innocent or sweet respectively, Sadie would go disapproving Top and Albert was terrified of censure when he wasn't Little. Joshua was the obvious choice. The only choice.

Joshua didn't suggest adding anyone else to the mix, but he got up and went to stand in front of Flick. "May I have a hug, sir?"

Flick immediately opened his arms and Joshua plopped down on his knee, hissing as his sore bottom made contact. Then he played it up with a little whine and hid his face against Flick's chest. Lamb glimpsed a grin as Flick hoisted him a little like Lamb had Albert and Joshua wriggled against the hold.

"Settle down, little boy," Flick told him, pinching his cheek. "Keen should be grateful you brought it up before anyone got actually hurt. I'm certainly glad you did."

"I feel guilty though, sir," he lied quietly and badly. "I got Keen in trouble."

"Keen got himself in trouble," Flick corrected. "But I know a very good method for helping sorry little boys get over guilt they shouldn't be feeling."

With a little giggle, Joshua lifted his bottom off Flick's hand. "What's that, sir?"

"When it's guilt they deserve, they get spanked. When it isn't, they get cuddled very tight." Flick lay his hand directly over Joshua's bottom, covering nearly the entire surface. "Don't think I can't see what you're doing, little boy, but this is all you're getting unless you want to be actually naughty and spend some time contemplating the corner.

Which, like, obviously he didn't. Joshua looked too sore to properly enjoy more anyway. He sunk down again, nearly all his weight on Flick's chest.

Flick rubbed very gently. "Thank you, though. I did need a reminder you need me too."

Joshua's eyes were drifting shut when the doorbell rang.

Sadie started to get up, looking for her trousers in panic.

"Burns, chill, at least two out of those three have seen you like this already today. Along with half the uni," Lamb said. "Flick, take Albert, I'll get that." He coaxed Albert off his knee and a few moments later, Joshua was sharing Flick's lap. He snuggled close to both of the other men, throwing an arm over Albert.

"Two good little boys," Flick rumbled. "Right where they belong."

Albert squeaked as his red bottom was covered with Flick's other hand. He was skinny enough that his height didn't let him avoid or reduce that fate. Like Joshua it seemed to have a soporific effect though and Albert relaxed almost immediately afterwards, blinking sleepily.

Sadie ended up grabbing Joshua's trousers in her mild panic, only realising once they were up and she felt the texture of the drop seat. Her horrified expression would have been hilarious in another circumstance. Tricia was already inside the dorm though, so she sat down quickly rather than change.

Tricia swatted Lamb. "Answering the door full frontal is certainly a choice, Reuben. Care to change that before the others arrive?"

Lamb shrugged. "Only if you turn the heating down."

Flick gave her a nod, since his hands were keeping Albert and Joshua cosy and the thermostat was fiddled with. Lamb dressed, but left his drop seat down. It was nice to show off and it reduced the friction.

Tricia looked them over, hands on hips.

"Henry's in my study," Flick told her, breaking eye contact first.

"Henry can wait," she said. "You can't. I'm in Quirt's class, remember? This is the last thing you needed after that, how are you holding up?"

Flick squeezed Joshua and Albert a little tighter. "Holding together while I'm needed. Um, ma'am."

She smiled at him. "How badly do you need a toppier Top?"

He snorted softly. "I could do with an emotional release, yeah, but Henry's the priority. And I'm not letting these two go until they start struggling."

Sadie gasped, then blushed even deeper when it drew attention. Astonished that even Flick had moments of submission.

"Fair," Tricia said. "Whenever you're ready. Unless you'd prefer Indira?"

Flick shrugged, jostling Joshua's bottom and making him and Albert make little noises of protest. "Flip a coin for it for all I care. I imagine Henry is the real prize to fight over."

"If I wouldn't be disturbing your sweet boys, I'd be swatting you for that comment, Friedwald," Tricia warned. "Henry is a boy who's wandered into some serious trouble trying to protect his pride, not a trophy for whoever's the hardest Top. And I doubt the university will choose either of us. We've already proven we can't keep him in line."

"Choose for what?" Sadie asked.

"For a Disciplinary Mentor," Tricia explained.

Lamb shuddered at the idea. The other term that was commonly used for the Tops who had the unenviable job of forcing students on probation for serious breaches of the university rules into good behaviour was brat breakers. Those few who specialised in reining in Tops were practically legends.

Chalk for example. Lamb's scene had mostly been with Birch, but Chalk's authority had been present throughout.

Henry's crime was a Top only offence. He could easily be handed to someone like Chalk, who'd focus on driving Henry to quit his studies rather than give him the help he needed. Actually, Chalk himself probably wouldn't do that. Not to a Fresher from a vanilla background.

Didn't mean whoever the lottery gave Henry wouldn't.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Sadie shifted uncomfortably.

Tricia sighed. "When I took the DM test, I had to learn all the situations they were recommended. Yeah. Campus discipline without the right licence was on that list. Though all the cases we were told about it was someone with basic brat punishing permissions acting as if they had a prefect's power to punish any student. Usually a Top getting spanked for acting enough like a Brat to cause confusion."

There was quiet for a moment, then Lamb said what they were all thinking. "He can't blame confusion."

Chapter Text

The door opened behind him and Henry tried to guess who it would be. He didn't want it to be any of them. Maybe if he promised to leave Bratford entirely immediately they wouldn't have a chance to kick him out.

"I fucked up," Marshall said.

Worst and best option.

"I'm sorry, bunny."

"You didn't, I did," Henry insisted. "Lamb was just... and Sadie. I couldn't be worse at topping than them. Not when I'm shit at bratting too."

Marshall snorted quietly. "I was enjoying playing with you so much I forgot I was dealing with a Switch. Fuck's sake, I let Lamb top you."

Henry shrugged. "I let Lamb top me too. And when he ordered me to show off ..."

He jumped when Marshall got suddenly very close behind him, not quite touching, but a warning presence. "Ru wants you to assert dominance, bunny. And I'm not experienced enough to train you."

"Sure," Henry said, unable to care. He may as well be broken up with on top of everything else. Wasn't like it was going to work long distance once he'd been forced to study abroad.

"Can you forgive me?" Marshall asked, like he genuinely wanted it. "Because I've realised what I really want from you and it's just a relationship. I want to be your Top and for you to be my Bottom. No trying to change you, just be the person you wear all those bratty instincts out on so you can be a good boy the rest of the time."

"I'm not mad at you," Henry said. "You did what I asked." A clean break would be best, even if it hurt his heart. Either him. "If you're not willing to try and help me anymore, fuck off and send in whoever's going to beat my ass." He scowled at the wall. He'd feel better once he'd been punished. That was how it worked.

"Henry, can I tou—"

"No."

There was a silence, then the door opened and closed again.

Henry leaned his forehead against the wall and let the tears come. He was hoping for Flick, who he could properly fight and not win, but it was Tricia who came in next.

She didn't bother with a greeting, just strode straight to him and slapped his arse. Then kept going. He danced from foot to foot, unable to retreat because of the corner. It wasn't many, maybe ten overall, but his arse was burning from the belt earlier and he was already emotionally tapped out.

"Henry,' Tricia said finally. "I remember a boy at the start of the year who had a goddamn panic attack in Anonymous because he couldn't be certain about the consent if he didn't look them in the eye and get a yes. What the fuck happened to him?"

"I'm a bad Top," he told her through tears. It was a relief to admit it finally. "I'm not good at it! I'm going to fail my degree because I can't top and I can't fucking bottom! I'm just a useless mess of neither!"

Tricia stepped closer. "Henry, you just said several things that I need to respond to with discipline, but I think you're going to take it the wrong way if I'm not very very clear. You are not a bad anything. That language isn't tolerated here." She lay down two crisp smacks to his sit spots. "You are not a bad Top. You are just inexperienced and hesitant. Honestly, I'm upset with Lamb for goading you into giving out discipline you weren't comfortable with, even if I'm more upset with you for doing it. Spread your legs."

Henry obeyed, feeling incredibly vulnerable, even though she wasn't the one he'd given blanket permission to discipline him sexually. Her hand caught his tender inner thigh and he sobbed loudly. A matching smack to the other side and he pressed his legs together to protect them.

"No. Keep those open, we aren't done. You are learning, it is understandable that you aren't yet proficient."

Another matching pair a little lower and when Henry looked down he could see the outline of her fingers in pink between his legs.

"You have been doing your degree for less than a month, it's a little early to abandon the whole thing."

He braced, but that part apparently didn't earn him actual smacks.

The rest definitely did. "You are here to learn to both top and bottom. To tame and brat. You are the only one requiring yourself to already know. And if you ever ever call yourself useless again, young man, I will switch your inner thighs. Stripe them bright red from here —" A smack almost high enough to catch his balls. "— to here." Barely above his knee. Then she repeated those on the other side.

"Lamb can -"

"Lamb has two years more experience than you, brat. And if you bring up Sadie or Joshua, the only thing they're doing differently is trusting themselves." Tricia pulled him away from the wall and into a tight hug. "You've landed yourself in a hell of a lot of trouble, mister. The university is going to be informed and the likely result is that you'll be assigned a Disciplinary Mentor for a few months. Not permanently, there will be some requirements for it to be lifted. I imagine a particular grade in your main degree and genuinely passing the basic."

That was both better and worse than Henry had imagined. "Would you do it, ma'am? Be my d— my mentor?"

"I'll put my name in for contention," she told him, leading him to the low sofa and pulling him down to sit, swatting his thigh lightly when he squirmed at the pressure on his bottom. "And Indira has said she'll do the same. But I doubt they'll let it be either of us. No prior arrangement is the rule and we were close enough that we should have caught you earlier or emphasised the importance of informed consent hard enough that you wouldn't have ever considered it."

"They'll... let me stay?"

Her hand went to the back of his neck, holding him firmly. "You're staying." Tricia's certainty was a bit overwhelming. "And even if I can't be your DM, I'd like to be your tutor. I get extra credit towards my degree and you get the advantage of one on one help from someone who's done three years of Applied Discipline."

Henry shrugged. Now he knew he wasn't about to be expelled, he sort of wanted to go after Marshall and beg his forgiveness. But he was good at walking away. Hadn't ever looked back before and now he wasn't sure he knew how to turn his head.

There wasn't a punishment bad enough to make him cutting Marshall off cold okay again.

Not fixable.

"It's okay if you're not sure yet, Henry," Tricia told him. "A lot of big things have happened, some of which you don't know about yet, because they don't directly affect you and you've had plenty to deal with today. Just know that offer is on the table."

"I'd be an idiot if I said no," Henry said. "I need the help, so, yes, please, ma'am."

"Drifting very close to more negative self talk, Henry," Tricia said sternly. "You're not going to like me very much as a tutor. I'll be paying very close attention to your work, you won't be able to get away with slacking at all, but you are legitimately struggling and I have infinite patience for that, okay?"

He leaned more against her shoulder. "How ... how angry is Flick?"

"Absolutely furious. At himself. Indira is going to need the study in a bit to hammer home another lesson about how he isn't a mind reader."

It took him a moment to make that make sense. "No! He doesn't deserve ... I'm the fuck up. Hit me!"

Tricia sighed and easily tipped him sideways, twisting so he fell over her lap bottom up. "I'm going to spank you now, Henry. Not because you're a fuck up, you are absolutely not, but because we literally just had a conversation about not insulting yourself."

He felt something not her hand tap his bottom and twisted to see the ruler she carried and had given him his first public spanking with.

"I'm giving you ten and after each you are going to count and say something nice about yourself."

Yeah, that wasn't happening. Henry jerked at the first stroke. He'd had enough already. He was sore and he'd been crying and everything was going to get worse and he may as well say goodbye to ever being able to sit again.

And he couldn't think of anything good.

"One," he whimpered, then clamped his mouth shut.

Tricia waited a moment, tapping the ruler lightly. "Okay, kid. If you're not going to say anything, I will. You are fair. Just now you tried to protect Flick even though you claim not to like him and the reason this has you all twisted up is that you feel like you deserve much worse than you've gotten so far."

"You can't!" he protested, but then the ruler landed hard again.

"You want to be a good boy," Tricia told him. "If you hadn't thought the only way you could be a good Top was to punish others, I doubt you'd have punished anyone."

The third stroke, on top of the belting from Marshall, made Henry kick his feet. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up!"

Tricia was undeterred. "That's it, let it out. You have my full permission to throw a bratty tantrum."

"Not a brat!" Henry knew it wasn't especially convincing when he was drumming his feet so hard against the sofa.

"You care deeply about other people," Tricia informed him. "Which you try to hide, because someone has taught you it's a weakness, but little boy, it is not."

The ruler cracked across his thighs and Henry squealed in indignation. He couldn't even care that they could hear him outside. "You're a total bitch! Let me go!"

"Mhm, I'm very mean, letting you lie across my lap and insult me while I give you compliments and the spanking you've been angling for. You're willing to try difficult things to improve yourself. You're a little misguided on what would be an improvement, but you gave yourself over to Marshall completely."

Henry bit her.

Just twisted his head down and tried to sink his teeth into her thigh. It was a bad angle and she was wearing jeans and he didn't really want to hurt her, but she felt it and went still.

He'd given too much to Marshall.

Tricia wasn't into him like that, though.

"Henry Arthur Keen!"

He cringed, sore buttocks clenching.

Tricia rubbed his back and tilted her knee a little higher. "I hear what you're telling me, kid. You have six more to go, but I'm going to change that to a homework you are to hand to me by the end of the week and I'll give you those strokes when you do. Right now, you're saying you need hard and fast and overwhelming. Feel free to continue your tantrum, but I'm changing the pace as soon as you let go, young man."

Nervous, even though that sounded better than having to listen to any more praise, Henry spat her jeans out, then on a whim, probably because he was too worn out in every sense to be thinking properly, kissed the spot in apology.

Tricia's soft oh hurt his heart. "It's okay, kid. I had to spank Warner through his first big tantrum too and there's a whole module on dealing with brat meltdowns in third year AD. This barely qualifies. You are being very brave."

He was tempted to bite her again properly, but then the ruler burned lines into his backside at an unbearable rate and all he could do was screech and try to beg for mercy. It didn't come as he writhed and kicked, only, as he knew it would from his classes, when he went limp, unable to fight any longer.

Sobbing into the sofa, Henry still felt as though there was the weight of all his failures crushing him, but there was the faintest hope that he could pay for them. Eventually. Assuming he didn't make too many more before he had.

They weren't totally giving up on him. Tricia and Flick, at least, had that same hope. Indira too, maybe.

The end of the punishment made him sob harder, almost wishing it had kept going, because there was still an aching hole of guilt in his chest. He did feel lighter, but knew there was a way to go before he could forgive himself.

Tricia stroked his hair as he cried. "Well done. Seriously. That's the best I've seen you let go. A few more like that and you might actually have to admit you're a brat."

"Am a brat," he told her, surprised by how easy it was to say. "Naughty little brat."

"Very naughty, but very very good," she agreed. "Now you're going to need to let me get up to find some arnica, but at your own pace. Whenever you're ready to move."

Henry wasn't yet, but he tried, pushing himself up on shaky arms only to collapse again with a whimper. "Sorry," he whispered.

"I said take your time. No rush."

He lay there, unable to quite believe the pulse of pain in his arse. Every punishment he had had had felt like the worst, but he was certain that one actually was. The belting on its own had been the last worst, so the ruler on top was an inevitable escalation.

There was a knock on the door.

"No!" Tricia called firmly. "Go away! Unless you have arnica!"

There was a pause, the sound of hurried footsteps, then the door opened and Lamb slipped through. He held up a tube of arnica like it was a shield.

"Henry, are you okay with Lamb being here?" Tricia asked.

He shrugged. "Lied to him too. Sure, whatever. Everyone line up to look."

Lamb snorted and brought the arnica over. "You're allowed to say no, bun— Henry. And I've been threatened by five different Tops for pressuring you. Which, genuinely, fair. I didn't force you, but I was a brat about it. And if you'd just spanked me, I would be arguing against you getting reported at all. Because I'd consent to you punishing me right now even. Licence or no."

"Freak," Henry called him, but couldn't make it sound anything but fond. Five Tops meant everyone, including Sadie. They all felt defensive enough of him to turn on golden boy Lamb?

Tricia made a little noise as she took the arnica. "What the ...?"

"Flick keeps it in the fridge," Lamb told her. "Extra soothing, but extra eeek at first."

"Extra eeek is good," Tricia mused. "Now I'm a tutor, I'll have to start keeping some like that."

Henry, who'd been on the receiving end of Flick's mean aftercare before, groaned.

"He accepted?" Lamb sounded actually delighted. "Can I be your practice dummy?"

"I'm counting on it," Tricia said and slapped a handful of chilled cream onto Henry's bottom making him yelp. "But I'll be enlisting Aaron and Joshua too. At minimum. He'll need to cover a range from masochist to resistant. Once he has properly passed his license."

No doubt that he wouldn't. And with the sort of motivation she could provide, Henry didn't want to argue.

Chapter Text

"So, if any of you want to go trick or treating tonight, some of our Mortarboard Tops have very kindly volunteered to escort groups of no more than four Brats. Please speak to Master Chalk in the next half hour or so if you're interested." Birch beamed down from the raised platform, repeated his message in case anyone had missed it, then hopped down.

Joshua shivered as Birch strolled towards him, gaze intent. His Top had gone all out on his vampire costume. Black leather trousers tight enough to shrink wrap his buttocks and bulge. Figure hugging corset over a blood red shirt. Dusting of white makeup and nearly seamless fang caps on his canines.

Hungry look as he approached his very human prey.

All that was missing was a long coat or cape and Birch had confessed that was because he wanted to show off his arse.

"So, little cowboy," Birch purred, tipping Joshua's chin up with a blood red painted nail. "Interested in trick or treating?"

Joshua shrugged. He felt a bit silly in his costume, thrown together from things he had and that Lamb had let him borrow. Most of the other society members were in outfits at most one step away from fetishwear. The rest were just in fetishwear.

His jeans, plaid shirt and Stetson were unfortunately modest, though the fake gun and harness holster that Lamb had produced definitely drifted in the right direction. Joshua was sure some of the straps on it were entirely unnecessary.

Birch hooked a finger in one of those straps and pulled him closer. "If you play a trick, I'll give you a treat," he promised, breath tickling Joshua's ear. "How'd you like a very public spanking? You, me, up on that stage. All you need to do is find a little naughtiness to get up to."

"Sir!" Joshua whispered, scandalised. Not about the spanking, he'd adjusted to public discipline being his new normal, but asking him to cause trouble at the Schoolroom Society and Mortarboards' Halloween party?

He eyed Birch suspiciously. "Is this some sort of self-sabotage?"

Birch laughed softly at him. "No, sunshine. This is me playing with my beautiful new brat. I want to drag you up in front of all these people and show them how lucky I am to have you."

Joshua felt a little silly, but after both Henry and Dare imploding their relationships in the same day, he was naturally worried about his own Brat Switch following suit. He liked Chalk, even if the guy was terrifying. He made Birch happy and that was what was important.

With a soft kiss to his temple and a light smack to his bottom, Birch reassured Joshua, "I'm just flirting, honey. No pressure. I'm just required to stay at this party until it winds down and, with the extended curfew for Halloween, that won't be until midnight. And I want to play with my boy's cute arse now."

"Sir!" Joshua was sure he'd gone bright red. "You ... you don't need an excuse. It's, um, yours."

Both of Birch's hands gripped his bottom, squeezing appreciatively. "Oh, I know, but if I just play with you, Chalk will have his excuse to bend me over and I'm teasing him tonight. He's just as trapped here and his boy's arse is just as tempting. Go cause trouble, sunshine."

Joshua squirmed. "You do look really good, sir."

Birch turned to the side and gave his own arse an appreciative slap. "Next year you and me are doing a themed costume." He nodded at someone nearby who had decided leather harness and penis pouch was a complete costume. "You can be my vampiric thrall. Maybe something like that?"

He had to be joking.

Though Joshua was a bit distracted by his casual certainty that they'd still be together to wear a themed pair of costumes in a year's time. He spluttered a little and held up his plastic cup that had been empty since well before Birch had approached him. "I, uh, need a drink."

"No alcohol," Birch ordered. "I want your head clear when we try your excellent suggestion. The one from the book."

Joshua practically ran across the room to the refreshments table to avoid combusting from embarrassment and excitement. The alcoholic drinks were cordoned off to one section and clearly labelled. He hadn't had the slightest interest in them until they had been expressly forbidden.

The non-alcoholic punch was down the other end of the table and guarded fiercely by Hayden Holt in nothing but a pair of golden Spandex shorts. Currently he had one foot on the stairs up to the stage and a brat bent over his muscular thigh.

Edward Lawrence wailed unhappily as a large, meaty hand smacked his rump. His tinsel and wire halo was very bent out of shape and his white tunic had been hitched up at the back to ensure full access for Holt's palm.

"This is not an American prom movie, brat," Holt scolded. "Spiking the punch is a ridiculous idea and immediately obvious to anyone who tastes it, even if you had succeeded."

Joshua reached for the ladle in the punchbowl.

Thomas, Edward's identical twin, dressed in a red tunic with devil horns, put a hand on his shoulder. "Careful," he said quietly. "It is spiked."

"Really?" Joshua grabbed the ladle and tipped a little punch into his cup before bringing it to his nose to sniff. There was a hint of alcohol behind the synthetic fruit, but he wasn't sure he'd have noticed if he hadn't been aware.

"Yeah." Thomas leaned against the table to watch his brother get smacked. "Ed's a good distraction."

Joshua discovered he knew how to raise one eyebrow. Top style. "I should rat you out to Birch." He took a sip of the punch. It was kind of nice, burning a little as it went down. Birch might want his head clear, but Joshua was worried he'd chicken out without a little fuzziness.

Half a cup couldn't hurt.

"Should means you won't," Thomas said. He picked up a plastic cup from the stack next to the punch and filled it calmly. They were the thick, reusable kind, translucent but not transparent. "Or you want me to try and bribe you into silence."

"You aren't trying very hard to get away with it," Joshua pointed out.

Thomas gave him a quick smirk. "Aren't I?" He raised the cup to his lips, then almost immediately choked, spitting the mouthful back. "What the —!?"

Joshua rushed to pat him on the back.

"There's definitely alcohol in this!" Thomas' voice rose petulantly above the general chatter. "Mister Holt, sir?! Someone ..."

Holt paused his assault on Edward's backside and let the boy stand up. He took the cup Thomas thrust in his direction and sniffed. "Fuck's sake, either of you see who ...?"

Technically, Joshua hadn't seen the act itself, so he shook his head along with Thomas' blatant lie.

"No, sir," Thomas said, grabbing his brother's hand. "Maybe even before you caught Edward?" He turned to the angel. "And if you've got any more dumb ideas, keep them to yourself. I want to go trick or treating." With a huff, he picked up a couple of cans of soft drink to replace the punch he had definitely only wanted for his thirst and pulled Edward away towards Chalk and his sign up sheet.

Holt eyed Joshua with more suspicion. "Tatham ..."

Joshua pointed across the room. "Birch hasn't taken his eyes off me since I walked away. He knows it wasn't me." He took another sip of his drink. "It's not bad, actually."

"I wouldn't put it past Birch to order you over here to do it," Holt muttered. He picked up the bowl and moved it down the table to the alcoholic drinks zone. "No point wasting it, but people should be informed on what they're drinking."

Across the room, Birch started making his way towards Joshua. He walked purposefully enough that other people got the hell out of his way.

"Um, yeah. Consent is good." Joshua considered his options. He could probably get away with arguing ignorance. But Holt knew he'd drunk it after he'd been informed. He could run. But the room was packed and not a single Top there wouldn't block his route if Birch was after him.

He raised his cup to his lips and tossed the last mouthful down, with his eyes locked onto Birch's.

His Top was there a heartbeat later, taking the cup from his hand and placing it firmly on the table. "Joshua. Care to tell me why that bowl is over there now?"

"I didn't spike it," Joshua said quickly.

"I'm not accusing you of that, sunshine." Birch managed to get affection and threat into the nickname. "I'm asking if you just looked right at me and broke the only rule I've given you since we negotiated a relationship."

Joshua's throat went as dry as if he hadn't drank anything at all the whole evening. He nodded slightly. It should have been an easy order to follow. All he had to do was put down the punch once he knew. There were plenty of other cans and bottles and a hot water dispenser if he wanted tea, herbal tea or coffee.

Fuck, what if Birch stopped being interested if Joshua couldn't follow a single order?

"With me, boy." Birch took hold of one of the back straps of Lamb's holster and hauled Joshua along as though he didn't trust him to follow that order either.

"He didn't do it, Birch," Holt tried to intervene. "Thomas was with him the whole time he was at the table. Worried about his brother, as per usual."

Birch sighed, very familiar with how Edward caused trouble and Thomas ran along after him, failing to restrain the chaos. But Joshua could still taste the alcohol and had heard Thomas' almost confession.

"I know he didn't," Birch reassured Holt. "But I told him no alcohol tonight. Not if he wants me to take him home for more than a sleepover."

Holt grinned. "So, you two worked it out? How long? It's very important, because I guessed Halloween, but I was thinking a drunken confession at this very party. I could still be closest."

"The twenty eighth," Birch told him. "And if I heard about anyone in either club betting on the love lives of any other members, I'd be obliged to take a cane to their arses."

"Good thing you didn't hear about it, then." Holt gave Birch a swat to get moving. "Get your boy warmed up and remind us what a lovely brat you're claiming all for yourself."

Birch's hand slipped into Joshua's back pocket for a playful squeeze. "Jealous, Holt? Those who don't ask, don't get."

Holt shook his head, looking amused. "I'd have taken him for a spin, yeah, but you know I don't do long term. Besides I've got someone for tonight." He turned to the side and peeled down the waistband of his tiny shorts just far enough to show off part of a welt. "Wondered why Dom was looking for company when you're looking so ..."

"Fuckable? Yeah, I'm hoping for a few of those before the night is over. Speaking of ..." Birch nodded at Holt, apparently completely neutral about the fact the other Switch would be keeping Chalk company while he was with Joshua, and ushered his brat up onto the stage.

Joshua stood nervously as Birch pulled the Discipline Chair — relocated from the meeting room to the larger event room they'd booked out for the party, just in case it was needed — into the centre of the dais.

"This is personal, sunshine," Birch told him, slipping behind him and putting both hands on his upper arms. "So, I'm not sitting on that thing. But I think you need a visual reminder of what I promised you. My orders aren't optional, little boy, and when you're naughty, this is what you're going to get."

He pushed forward and Joshua's hands automatically caught himself on the edges of the chair, staring directly down at the word emblazoned across the seat in sharply raised letters. DISCIPLINE.

"You did tell me to do something naughty?" Joshua glanced over his shoulder to see Birch rolling up his sleeves and a substantial portion of the other partygoers clustering closer to the stage to watch.

Birch flexed his hand and wriggled his fingers like he was limbering up. "That's why you're only getting this, sunshine. But I meant break a general rule. Something I could justify bringing you up here for. Taking over the whole stage for a personal chat is also against the general rules." He shot Chalk a smirk across the stage.

His Top raised an unamused eyebrow back, but stayed leaning against the wall, watching. Chalk had themed his outfit with his sub and made a striking vampire hunter. He had gone with the flowing leather jacket and had tucked bottles of presumably holy water, stakes and a few bulbs of garlic into pockets of a leather harness that accented his chest muscles and lack of shirt. And the cane he usually had at his side like a sword was still very much present.

"But I think a public claiming of my boy is absolutely official society business," Birch said, placing both hands directly on Joshua's jean-clad arse. "I want every Top in this room to know you're mine." He leaned over him. "I'm not going to demand you only play with me. You heard Holt, that's not how me and Chalk work either. But no matter how many people you offer your beautiful arse to, you come back to me."

"Yes, sir," Joshua whispered, finally letting it sink in that he had been chosen. He could've been another Holt, taken to bed and waved off in the morning, but instead Birch wanted to keep him. Do the romantic side too.

Birch's hands slid around to his front, touching the whole way, and undid his fly. He palmed Joshua's packer through his underwear, like he'd forgotten it couldn't feel it. It turned Joshua on anyway, looking back through his braced arms to see.

"I'll get you properly hard for me later, sunshine," Birch whispered.

Meaning that they'd fit Joshua into the harness they'd brought specifically to house a modestly sized flesh tone dildo. They'd found one that left the buttocks and crack completely free and Birch had insisted on splitting the cost because he'd be benefitting from it just as much. Especially since he wanted to try topping from the bottom with Joshua sometimes.

Joshua's jeans slid down his legs and he stared at the seat of the chair and the word DISCIPLINE, rather than see how their audience reacted.

"Stunning," Birch told him, smacking his arse lightly just to make it bounce. He raised his voice. "Who here wishes they had Joshua bent over for them?"

The responding cheer made Joshua squirm. He wasn't especially ... There were better arses ... They'd have cheered anyone ...

"Too bad," Birch told them. "I'm keeping him."

A lot of the Tops watching booed at that. Someone shouted something about what price Birch would accept for Joshua.

"He's fucking priceless," Birch yelled back. "Even if he was being a total brat earlier when I told him no alcohol and he went and poured himself an alcoholic drink and looked right at me while he drank it."

There was laughter.

Someone started up a chant of "Brat brat brat!" and it was picked up by most of the audience. It reminded Joshua of at school when there was a fight and everyone crowded around to loudly state the obvious.

Birch turned back to Joshua and placed one hand on his back while cracking the other hard against his bottom. Joshua was stunned and Birch didn't give him time to recover. His hand rose and fell in time with the brat chant, scorching past Joshua's defences before they had time to rise.

It felt good, the heat of each smack rolling through Joshua and stoking his arousal. Fast and overwhelming and perfectly calibrated to make him wet. His hips twisted instinctively, trying to control where the smacks would land, but Birch held all the control.

The only path Joshua could take was that of surrender. He lost himself in the sensation, unable to even feel embarrassed about the moan that was torn from his throat when Birch spanked his sit spots full force.

Joshua gripped the sides of the chair, almost wishing it felt anything like discipline. Birch had been right to call it a claim. He didn't think he could've felt more owned if his Top had fucked him on stage instead.

Every blazing crack of his palm felt like a brand declaring him property of Brandon Birch. Joshua was sure that the spanking had reached the point where the effect was similar to the punishments he'd had with implements that he hadn't enjoyed, but the slower build-up from what he did like had brought the arousal up with it.

He simmered.

Birch continued.

The chant had died down. People's throats drying up and getting bored of the repetition. But Birch spanked on with as much enthusiasm as he'd started with.

The lesson he was imprinting on Joshua's skin wasn't obedience or subservience, but that he was wanted and loved and his pleasure worth granting. Smack after smack after smack hammering home the message of desire.

The pain built, but it was a delightful pain, one that soaked warmth through to Joshua's bones and gave him hope. An anchor. A deep breath. A swelling chorus.

Even when Birch finished, panting from the exertion, the glow remained. He fondled Joshua's sore cheeks, stroking and squeezing as though he couldn't bear to stop feeling him.

Joshua whimpered softly, not sure what he was begging for, but knowing that he should beg.

"May I touch you?" Birch asked.

It seemed like a nonsense question. He was very definitely touching Joshua. Very thoroughly.

But then his fingers caught on the edge of Joshua's crack and his meaning became clear.

"Sir?" Joshua managed. He ached with the need to get off, only their audience and a desire to obey stopping him from taking his hands off the chair and stroking himself to completion.

Birch pulled his cheeks very slightly apart. "I've broken the rule against public sexual punishment already, sunshine. I want to take you over the edge. Where can I touch you to make that happen?"

Joshua lifted his hips, moving as Birch's fingers stayed still, until they hovered above the soaked fabric right between his legs.

A soft gasp. "Are you sure?"

"Green," Joshua told him and gasped right back as those fingers connected.

"Through these or can I go under?" Birch asked, pinching the cloth away for a moment.

Joshua could hardly believe where he was. Their audience was still mostly watching, only a few turning away at the turn it had taken. "Over," he said, though it felt like a very small difference.

Birch stroked him, a little hesitant, but firm against his clit. "Beautiful, brave boy. Does this feel good?"

It felt amazing.

"Harder, sir?" Joshua widened his legs, offering himself up, uncaring about the eyes on them both.

There was a pause, then Birch pulled his hand away before smacking Joshua right between the legs. He felt a gush of fluid as he came. The sound he made was almost a sob, all the tension the spanking had wound into his stomach unclenching at once.

Which was when Chalk crossed the stage to join them. "Brandon." His tone was the stern one he used for play. When he was actually scolding, Chalk sounded deeply disappointed and far softer than his headmaster persona. He could have stepped in at any earlier moment, but he'd waited until Joshua had had his full reward, because he wasn't really upset.

"Master Chalk." Birch slipped from confidently dominant to lazily insubordinate between breaths. "Is there an issue?"

"There is, Brandon." Chalk drew his cane with a slow, well telegraphed motion. "Hold out the hand you just used to stroke the boy to orgasm. That sort of thing should be kept to the appropriate places. Behind closed doors or where everyone has consented to watch."

Birch hadn't been subtle. Anyone who knew Joshua and what the M and hand shaped badges he usually wore meant, could've seen it coming from the start of the punishment. Or, well, seen him cumming.

If they weren't comfortable with watching a sexual punishment, they had the opportunity to stay away from the stage and keep dancing or chatting further out. The only people who'd gathered were those who understood Birch was publicly declaring his relationship with Joshua. The same group that would get nosy if Chalk ever had cause to cane Birch in front of others.

The portion of the two societies with an interest in watching masochists get a punishment they enjoyed.

And it was a double bill.

Birch lifted his hand, carefully cupped to protect his thumb and supported by his other hand below it. He was trembling slightly, but his tight leather trousers gave away that it was primarily from excitement.

"I'm very sorry, sir," Birch said in an insolent tone that made it an obvious lie.

Chalk twirled the cane as he brought it up, then it streaked very directly towards Birch's palm. The sound of impact had Joshua wincing and half-rising.

Birch made a sound that was part moan and part yelp. He lowered his hand. "I'd say it won't happen again, master, but, honestly, if he's up for it, I intend to spank him with my hand wherever and whenever we can get away with it."

Taking a step towards him, Chalk lifted Birch's hand back up with the end of the cane. "No remorse, Brandon? That's worth double."

Another swish and sharp crack.

"Mmh! Thank you, sir." Birch examined the stripe across his palm. "I'll be sure to use this hand to wrap around his cock later."

"Thank you comes once I've finished, Brandon," Chalk said, still playfully stern. "That was for getting him off. We still have the matters of your using the Discipline Chair and stage for a personal punishment and that attitude. Trousers down."

No hesitation, Birch rolled the tight leather down, gasping in relief as his hard cock sprung free. He didn't try to hide it from their audience, just gave Chalk a smirk and waited for further orders.

"Bend over the chair," Chalk told him.

Joshua started to push himself up to get out of the way, but Chalk stopped him with the cane placed in his way, laid gently across his shoulders.

"No, Tatham. You stay down."

Birch bent over the chair. Which Joshua was already doing. He arched over him, not quite using him as support, but holding him in the curve of his body. Groin met arse, Birch's dick nestling in the cleft of Joshua's butt. Dangerously close to what they had planned for later.

"Good boys," Chalk said and drove the cane down across Birch's arse. "One set, Brandon."

Joshua had been reassured, by basically every Top who'd given or threatened a spanking, that even among those who weren't outright masochists an aroused reaction to discipline was common enough that one of the earliest lessons covered was how to react to it. Like part of the three week lead in to the primary licence test early. Apparently the recommendation was to ignore it and continue as planned.

This went a little bit further than a polite pretence of ignorance.

There was a definite sulkiness in Birch's tone. "I thought no remorse was worth double, master?"

Another vicious snap of the cane which knocked Birch against Joshua in a parody of sex.

"It is, Brandy, but if I give you a dozen, you're going to cum before you get a chance to get inside your new boy. We'll be administering the other half tomorrow morning. Then you'll be sitting in my lap while you warm him back up."

Joshua swallowed, feeling the prickle of arousal rising again. Birch, arse striped, sinking back onto Chalk's dick, then patting his knee for Joshua to bend over it. Chalk watching over his shoulder, maybe pointing out a spot he'd missed or just murmuring praise for them both.

The third swish and thwack landed across Birch's sit spots, driving him onto his toes and his dick up along Joshua's cleft.

Birch groaned, draping himself more over Joshua's back. "You're going to kill me, sunshine. You feel so perfect under me. I'm never going to be able to resist you until midnight."

Joshua waited until the next stroke had driven them together, then, as Birch pulled away a little, pushed back, rolling his hips. He was rewarded with a desperate moan.

Chalk landed the last two so fast together that the jolts of impact through Birch were almost a singular sensation. Birch slumped over Joshua, panting as though he'd run a marathon.

Joshua made a little mewling noise and clenched his arse like he could pull Birch inside him where he wanted him by telekinesis.

"Whenever you're ready to get up, boys," Chalk said, sounding beyond smug about how easily he'd wrecked the pair of them. "I want that thank you, Brandon."

"Thank you, sir," Birch answered smartly, making it sound like a 'fuck you'.

It caught him another stroke, right across his thighs that made him stamp a foot.

"Go home," Chalk ordered. "I've got things under control and you're in no state to concentrate as long as the only thing on your mind is Joshua's lovely red arse."

That had Birch scrambling upright and hauling first his, then Joshua's trousers up.

Joshua whimpered at the scrape of denim on tender skin. Not to mention his damp underwear was getting uncomfortable.

"I know, sunshine," Birch said gently. "We'll get you out of those very soon. You took that spanking absolutely perfectly. My brave little boy."

Chalk helped Joshua up as well, tugging him close to whisper, "Remember you're allowed to safe whenever. If this isn't as nice as you hope, we'll find another way to make you feel good. And if I can get that cute bum over my knee sometime, I'll be a very happy man. But only if you want that." He stepped away, admiring the pair of them.

Birch grabbed Joshua's hand and, with a gleam of excitement and a slight limp, led him off the stage.

They paused for a kiss by the exit and both lifted middle fingers to the catcalls.

Chapter Text

Flick, it turned out, wasn't in any frame of mind to discipline anyone else after Dare had betrayed him and Henry had turned out to have been lying. However it had gone down with Albert, his focus had been on looking after him.

So, once again, Sadie avoided punishment from her mentor.

She reported to Indira's apartment the next evening for her first follow up spanking.

Marshall had been absent all evening, though Indira had taken a plate of food down to his room and demanded entry. Sadie hadn't quite heard the exact words, but Indira's tone had definitely been scolding and there had been a couple of smacks.

Sadie had chosen to wait until after dinner for her punishment that first evening and discovered why that was an awful idea. She hadn't been able to eat properly until after Indira had put her over her knee and smacked her soundly. Then the food — a curry just on the edge of too spicy for Sadie — had been reheated and she'd finished a plate. While sitting her bare bottom on Indira's lap.

She'd been on edge for Indira to maybe make a move, but the most she'd done was rub her bottom a little and call her cute.

It had been much the same the second night, except a sulky Marshall had joined them for food, sitting suspiciously uncomfortably, and Sadie had asked for her spanking to happen before dinner.

The cumulative effect was awful. Even just using her hand, Indira spanked hard enough that Sadie had lingering soreness all night and the next day. She squirmed through class, but her teachers were familiar enough with the signs of a smacked bottom to let it pass. To her surprise, so did the Tops in her lifestyle module who'd been so certain she was a Brat.

Though that might have more to do with their teacher, now Professor Skelp for Tops who had passed the basic licence and weren't doing a lifestyle degree, casually laying her strap out on the desk at the start of the lesson and reiterating her anti-bullying policy very pointedly.

By Halloween night and her third scheduled evening spanking, Sadie was still faintly pink when she checked in the mirror before heading over to Indira's for yet another dose.

Flick was taking Alby trick or treating and Joshua and Lamb both had parties, so it was just Keen looking forlornly at the fridge when Sadie was putting her shoes on to head over.

"You could come," Sadie said. "Mars—" The end of the sentence was that he had plans that night and wouldn't be there, but she didn't get to say it.

Keen lobbed an apple at her head and stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

She didn't tell anyone about the projectile fruit, especially not when she heard Flick smacking Keen into eating a proper meal when they'd all gotten home much later.

It was for the best Keen hadn't come with. Indira had been called during aftercare, before they'd eaten, by campus security who'd picked up a few of the football team egging the music building. Astonishingly none of them had been drunk.

Sadie had been left under a duvet on the sofa with a David Attenborough documentary on to keep her company while Indira fetched Marshall. He'd come back with an already paddled arse, a certainty that he'd be in for another round and an attitude that had Indira ordering corner time while she cuddled Sadie and the lasagne finished cooking.

It wasn't until the fourth on Friday that anything beyond discipline and aftercare happened.

The ache in her bottom was too much already and Sadie shook her head when Indira told her to bend over her knee.

"Okay, Burns, would you rather go over the back of the sofa?" Indira had asked, like that might be the issue.

"I don't need another —"

Indira stood up and Sadie took an automatic step backwards, bumping into the dining table.

"You're getting seven spankings, Burns," Indira told her. "Unless you want to safeword, arguing is just going to make your bottom that much sorer once I'm done."

"Yellow?" Sadie asked, very hesitantly.

Indira came round the sofa, but just leaned against the back of it. "I'm listening." She gave Sadie an encouraging smile. "Good on you for making it clear this is a genuine problem."

Sadie shifted. She suddenly wasn't certain it was a genuine problem. "I ... I'm sore and you're going to spank me again."

"Yes." Indira waited for a statement beyond the obvious.

"You said we could ... we might ..."

"I thought you'd want your punishment out of the way before we tried anything more fun," Indira told her. "It sends mixed messages when you get sex after serious discipline."

Sadie shrugged one shoulder. "It doesn't feel serious. It sort of feels like I'm ... This is going to sound like nonsense, but like I'm Joshua."

Indira nodded. "Yeah. I'm enjoying you a little too much. You're picking up on that and even if you don't like being spanked, you like me liking spanking you?"

That explained it. Sadie nodded in relief.

"Hm. That's not going away. I love seeing you quiver and try to hide how much it hurts too much to just not enjoy it. But we can try doing this a little differently. Add some distance so I don't have your lovely arse wriggling right on my lap. You can go over the back of the sofa, if you're ready to end negotiation and take what you have coming?"

"No ... I don't ... I'm still tender from the last one, can't I recover before ...?"

Indira raised a lethally sharp eyebrow. "Why are you tender?"

Sadie gaped at her for a moment. "Because you spanked me!"

"And why did I do that?"

"Maybe I feel like I've been punished enough for that."

"Good for you. We don't end until I decide. You've been doing so well, Sadie, this is the first resistance you've given me and you chose to do it in the right way with a yellow. Now, give me a red, a valid complaint beyond not wanting it or your bare bottom bent over right here." Indira patted the back of the sofa. "One."

"I can't take another!" Sadie stayed exactly where she was. "I'll take two tomorrow?"

Indira stopped counting. "If you can't take one now, why do you think you can take two tomorrow?"

"I, uh, have a date?"

"Vanity is absolutely not a good enough reason, Burns." Indira folded her arms. "Present your bottom immediately or you can forget about getting any sort of reward for your good behaviour so far."

"Reward?" Sadie took a step towards the sofa.

"If you take this punishment with the same attitude you've taken those you've had so far, I'll relax the not until it's over rule. If you get through all seven with no more arguments or refusals, I'll let you stay the night and let you pick how you want me to get you off."

Sadie took position, the spanking and three of Indira's fingers.

She texted Bas and cancelled their usual Saturday hook up.

---

Lamb had options.

A long list of Bindr matches with sadistic tendencies who wouldn't need much encouragement to thrash him for real.

None of them mattered.

He waited until Halloween night and everyone else was out. A slight twinge at lying directly to Flick's face about going to a party, but he was stewing in enough guilt to make it worth the opportunity to deal with the bulk of that.

Lamb knocked gently on Henry's door.

"No! Piss off, Burns!"

"Not Sadie," Lamb called back, wondering what Sadie had said between him leaving for his 'party' and seeing her leave the dorm for her appointment with Indira.

"You can piss off too!" Henry snarled.

"I have cupcakes?"

A long pause, then the door opened. "You know the code, you prick. Just let yourself in like usual."

Lamb gave him a hopeful smile and cupcakes. There was a good family owned bakery nearby where Flick got their bread and the occasional dessert. Henry always pretended it was ridiculous and complained about Flick trying to feed them up ala Hansel and Gretel, but he also ate the cupcakes in particular with furious enjoyment.

"I wanted your explicit consent to enter your space after everything," Lamb told him. "I let you down."

"You let me down," Henry scoffed. "In."

Lamb stepped past him and laid the silver case he was carrying on the bed.

"Since when do you give a shit about a no that isn't a safeword?" Henry asked, placing the cupcakes on his desk and eyeing the case suspiciously.

"Since this one isn't a game." Lamb calmly undid the case and opened it to reveal his upper sixth prefect's cane from Beaton.

Henry sighed and reached for his fly. "Figured you'd be over for your pound of flesh eventually, Ru."

"Hold," Lamb ordered. "You've been punished."

The night before, Flick had deemed Henry healed enough from the strapping to take the paddling he was due. Tricia had 'coincidentally' come over in case he lost his nerve, but it had gone fine. From what Lamb had heard. With his ear pressed against the door to Flick's study.

"For breaking the rules," Henry argued. "Not for lying to you."

"That's not a caning offence, love." Lamb took the cane out of its case, flexed it a little like it might have seized up in storage, then held it out to Henry across flat palms. "Pressuring someone else into something I knew he was uncomfortable doing is. Even if I didn't know why, I knew you weren't happy doing it."

Henry didn't take the cane. "Our whole fucking relationship has been you pushing past my stupid reluctance to help me do shit that scares me. If we'd gone at my pace, I'd still think getting bent over by my mates when they couldn't be arsed to pull was as good as it got."

Lamb didn't comment. He'd been worse at Beaton. Friendship had absolutely not been a requirement.

"I just need to know we're okay, sir." Lamb bowed his head.

"Fucking —" Henry knocked the cane off his hands and onto the floor. "Don't ever call me that! You know exactly how fucking unqualified I am to use that thing."

"Henry," Lamb said, deliberately stern for once. "Don't throw my things around. Pick that up."

There was no hesitation, Henry bent to collect it. He paused in the stooped over position, expecting the swat Lamb usually gave him at any opportunity. It didn't come.

Once he was upright, Henry offered the cane back to Lamb.

Lamb sighed. "If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be in any trouble. Don't you want to punish me for it?"

Henry shrugged. "Yeah. But not ..." He lifted the cane awkwardly.

Lamb corrected his grip. "I can walk you through it."

Henry shook his head. "I don't want to know how. I don't want to hit you! Or ... anyone, really."

"... You're doing Applied Discipline?"

"I know." Henry threw up his hands and sat on the bed, glaring at the cane he was holding. "I fucked up picking a degree too."

"It's not too late to change."

Henry glared at him. "To fucking what? Bratting? You know I always take that too far."

"Just Discipline, without the Applied part? Taming?" Lamb winced as he mentioned the latter suggestion, that was Marshall's subject. "Or something you did an A level in? Since you didn't do ASS levels, there's nothing tying you to the lifestyle subjects. You don't have to totally flip to a Bottom subject just because you're struggling with one aspect of topping."

"One aspect." Henry laughed hollowly. "What else even is there to topping?"

Lamb knelt. He went down right in front of where Henry sat on the bed. "May I have an order, sir?"

Henry's spine straightened. "I told you not to call me that."

"I know." Lamb kept his head up, meeting Henry's gaze steadily. "Is there an epithet you'd prefer. Ma'am? Master? My lord? Daddy?"

Henry cringed at each suggestion. "I don't..."

Lamb smirked. "You do." He hadn't been watching Henry's face for his choice. "Master."

Another little twitch below the belt. "Reuben ..."

"I'm being naughty, master." Lamb leaned his chin on Henry's knee, watching his cock like he was talking to it. "Whatever are you going to do about it? Isn't there any way to shut me up?"

Henry's hand ran through Lamb's hair. "No. That's a reward, for good boys. Naughty boys get fingers or gags."

Lamb gasped happily. "May I have your fingers. Please, master?"

A little hesitantly, Henry offered the pad of his thumb. Lamb lapped at it, swirling his tongue over the surface as eagerly as if it had been a dick.

"Fuck," Henry muttered. "That's enough, Ru."

"Thank you, master." Lamb sat back on his heels and leaned his head against the hand still in his hair. "Marshall topped you for two weeks without landing a single smack."

He expected the hand to tighten in his hair. Even the being hauled up and shoved face first over the bed was predictable. Henry's fingers in his waistband and his clothes being drawn down out of the way was the logical next step.

The cane was a solid warning as it rested against his backside.

"I'm not fucking Marshall, Ru," Henry reminded him. "He probably knows how to use one of these without causing any damage. Trusting me to swing this is a really stupid idea. So, colour?"

Lamb took a deep breath. "Green."

The cane swung away from his backside and he braced for its return.

It didn't.

Instead, it dropped onto the bed next to him and Henry's hand cracked down in its place.

It was honestly one of the least severe spankings Lamb had ever had. He'd had far worse for fun. But the fact that Henry wanted to do it even less than Lamb wanted to feel it made it one of the most effective.

He sniffled after only a couple of smacks. A deep regret sunk in with the mild sting.

Henry stopped after less than twenty. "Satisfied?" he asked, quietly. "Because that's more than I feel you deserve. If we're doing this. Just you and me, I mean. If we're doing this, I'm the Top. I give the orders. Agreed?"

Lamb nodded. Obviously. "Yes, master."

"Okay. Now, pick up that cane and make me regret lying to you."

Lamb obeyed. It was the lightest set he'd ever given with it. Henry was hardly any pinker afterwards.

Token punishments out of the way, they fell into each other. Henry bottomed, but for the first time he was firmly on top.

Chapter Text

Henry was jittery. Like, anyone would be nervous waiting for their first meeting with the person whose job it was going to be to regularly spank their arse for bloody months.

Flick put a calming hand on his leg. "I won't come in with you, kid, I don't want you to feel outnumbered, but remember their goal is to help you. And, yeah, you're probably not going to make it through today without getting spanked, but it's something to aim for."

"Henry Keen?" the receptionist at the Mentor service desk called. "Ms Sitwell is ready for you."

His Disciplinary Mentor would have been there for a while already, getting briefed on his circumstances before they met. Then Henry had been pulled out of classes for the whole day to get to know the prick. He'd argued, Darius hadn't missed any lessons and, according to Albert, he'd been allowed to meet his at the dorm, where he didn't even live. But apparently the rules were different when you didn't just go out and break them for the hell of it.

Henry had to do it properly.

He slouched into the room and took a seat before getting a good look at his new DM. To his horror he recognised him.

"Henry Keen, this is Brandon Birch," the Mentor service worker assigned to his case told him. Her name was Hazel and she had a bad case of if I'm cheerful enough things will be good. She'd come round to interview his dormmates and apparently Sadie had her little sister as dorm prefect before Flick.

"Yeah, I know," Henry said. "I'm fucked up, but I'm not interested in playing school, Brandy."

"That's my hobby, Keen," Birch said calmly. "I'm perfectly capable of disciplining you without roleplay." He turned to Hazel. "I scene with his dormmate. Joshua Tatham. Will that be an issue?"

"Not at all," she assured them, to Henry's disappointment. "Your name didn't come up in connection to his during my research, so unless you had a prior disciplinary, romantic or sexual relationship, it doesn't disqualify you."

Henry made an expression of disgust at the thought. "I thought you scened with Burns too? And Lamb."

Birch winced. "Sadie Burns was a member of the Mortarboards, but we never shared a scene and she hasn't attended the group in weeks. And, yes, I scened once with Reuben Lamb."

Huh. Keen hadn't known that. Sadie had been leaving at the right time for their meetings and coming back when they were over, so where the hell had she been going?

Hazel wasn't phased. "Those would only be relevant if any of those individuals were the one being assigned Birch as a DM. If anything, a positive relationship with a dormmate should be a recommendation."

"If my dormmates weren't fucking idiots," Henry agreed. "Forgive me if I don't make decisions on the words of a masochist, a liar and a slut."

Birch stood up. "Do you mind, Ms Sitwell?"

"Go ahead, Brandon," Hazel said, just as cheerfully. "This meeting is to gauge your disciplinary compatibility after all."

Henry wasn't compatible with anyone who wanted to beat his arse. Marshall and Lamb were a temporary insanity and ... Okay, maybe he was compatible with Tricia, but she'd been passed over as his DM despite being obviously more qualified than a third year with a cane fetish.

"Stand up, Keen."

"Stick a cane up your arse."

Birch smirked. "Brats often make threats when in trouble. Usually they're actually making suggestions for what they want a tamer to do to them. Is that what you want, Keen?"

"Obviously not, you perv."

"Then stand up. If I have to ask a third time, I'll assume you're requesting that buggering."

Henry was on his feet before Birch had finished speaking. "You can't ..."

"You would be well within your rights to safeword," Birch said. "But otherwise, I'm quite capable. If that isn't what you want from me, refrain from making threats or insults of that nature. Turn around and bend over."

"Not sure I feel safe doing that after what you just said, Brandy."

Birch picked up a lightweight pointer he'd had leaning against the side of his chair, because carry implements that could be carried discreetly were for less single minded people. "I merely intend to give you a few stripes with this, Keen. I do not require bare skin, but I will have it if you continue resisting. Turn around and bend over."

Henry was already picking up the pattern. Order once. Order twice with threat. Order thrice and that threat would be carried out. Probably. He needed to be sure and bare skin was a lot more acceptable than the first.

"No."

"Wrong choice." Birch was only a little taller and less bulky than Henry, but he spun him easily, shoving him down hard enough that Henry had to put his hands out to catch himself on the seat of the chair he'd just been sitting in. Flick had insisted on the brat uniform for the meeting, so Birch undid his drop seat. "Remain in position and don't reach back. The former means the stroke will be repeated, the latter means I will land a stroke across your palm." He yanked Henry's underwear up into a searing wedgie. "I counted seven insults, Keen, so you will receive seven strokes."

That didn't sound too bad. The pointer was longer than Tricia's ruler, but thinner, so it wouldn't cover as much surface, which could only be a good thing. Henry could take seven easily.

Then the first landed and he realised he couldn't. One hand flew back to touch the line of fire, certain it would come away bloody. Instead he felt the skin slightly raised and scorching hot.

"I warned you, Keen. Offer your palm, flat, up behind your back."

Henry shook his head. He didn't want to imagine another line appearing anywhere on his body and there were a fuck of a lot more nerves in his hand than bottom.

"It will be two if you don't comply. Offer me your palm for punishment."

Feeling ready to cry, Henry uncurled his fist and laid his hand out behind his back. "Please, sir, I'm sorry! I thought it was a cut!"

There was the very slightest softening in Birch's harsh attitude. "Understandable, if this is your first time with anything in the cane family? I assure you, I have half a decade of experience with this sort of implement. There are safer hands you could be in, but not belonging to any undergrad."

The pointer tapped against the centre of Henry's palm and it took all his willpower not to curl it again

"You wouldn't be the first to safeword on me, if you need to, Keen. I won't be offended. You're actually the third person I've been assigned as a DM and neither of the others made it through the first punishment before deciding it wasn't for them." The pointer hissed down and lit a line of fire across Henry's hand.

He pulled it away immediately, clutching it close to his chest. The smart thing to do would be to tap out. He finally understood what everyone had been saying about Flick being soft, now he felt the opposite. Birch was a heavy Top. Unyielding. The welt on his arse throbbed in time with the one on his hand and he was facing six more of those.

Henry also felt better than he had since he'd got the result of his licence test. He didn't want to lash out. If Marshall had been in the room right then, he might've been able to at least ignore his existence.

The pointer came to rest on the curve of his bottom, just below the first stripe. "I need a colour from you, Keen. Easy out. You don't have to say anything and I'll stop. I'll only continue with an explicit yes."

He swallowed a few times, then felt the pointer leave, knowing it was being lowered. "Green! I'm... I'm okay, sir. I don't like it, but I can take it."

Birch made a tiny noise of shock or horror or something. "Don't say that just because you think I'm your only option. Or because you feel sorry for me."

"Sir, my arse hurts way too much to feel sympathy for the person who did it." Fuck it, Henry was done hiding. "This is only the second or maybe third time I've been punished and not felt like getting up and fighting whoever's doing it. It's working, sir."

"Huh. Is there anything you'd say set those other punishments apart?"

It was like the stripe across his arse had burned away his embarrassment too. "Severity. Sir. The other was a belting and then I got a ruler on top of that. Dunno if that's one or two, but they both felt that way. This way."

Birch laughed a little shakily. "Sounds like you just skew heavy, Keen. If you're amenable, I'd love to keep you."

If he was amenable. Posh twat. "Finish punishing me and maybe. I might come to my senses before then."

The pointer blazed across his backside again and Henry knew he wouldn't.

Each line of fire turned a little more of his resistance to ash. Henry found himself relaxing, surrendering without much of the fight stage. By the fourth stroke something unbottled in his chest and he felt tears in his eyes.

Birch paused after the fifth, grinding the pointer against the line he'd drawn across Henry's sit spots. "Still with me, Keen? I'd hate to think I was striping a boy whose mind was elsewhere. Remind me what I'm punishing you for."

Henry's knuckles whitened on the edges of his chair. "For your own sadistic pleasure?" he suggested.

The pointer swung away and back, catching what felt like the full length of the last stroke. "You've still got two more to go, Keen. Count doesn't start going up again until you answer without the attitude."

"Oh, I'm sorry. For your own sadistic pleasure, sir?" He expected another stroke, but Birch just laughed.

"Cute, Keen. That one was my fault for not being specific. Give me the right answer or keep asking for more. Totally up to you. I get my sadistic pleasure either way."

Henry was crying, but it felt like a relief. His arse felt like mincemeat. Cut up by a bastard who wasn't even hitting on him. Except in the literal sense.

Like, he'd seen Joshua's arse after a session with Birch. This was specifically, exactly what Birch was most into.

Marshall or Lamb would've been touching between every smack, pushing things in an inevitable direction. Except for that strapping, Henry had always had a buffer of arousal to help get him through a punishment from his Sir. His or someone else's.

Birch wasn't allowing him that. He could be rock hard under the hem of his neatly buttoned blazer, but he kept acting in a way Henry would call professional if it wasn't coming from someone whacking him with a fucking stick.

Except he wasn't whacking. Just patiently waiting for Henry to get his shit together and decide if he wanted to sass him for extras or fold.

Henry folded.

He'd finally found his limit and it had very little to do with how much it hurt. That fucking patience.

Like Birch genuinely had nothing better to do than wait on Henry as long as he needed.

Not rushing through the spanking to get inside him like Marshall or to get it over with like Flick. Birch relished the punishment, but he hadn't been lying about being happy with however much Henry chose.

Tricia had felt similar, but she definitely hadn't gone hard enough.

Henry's tears were already calming, the pain settling at a manageable inferno.

Before Bratford, he hadn't had many opportunities to find out that he had a high pain tolerance. For the physical stuff at least. Emotional, he was starting to realise, he was very sensitive to.

"I was rude, sir," Henry said, the epithet feeling a little like a betrayal of Marshall. But he'd betrayed him so completely another couldn't make it worse. "I insulted you and my dormmates."

"And?" Birch prompted. "Who else?"

Henry shrugged. "Ms Sitwell? Flick?"

Birch sighed softly and sadly. "Yourself, Keen. I'll be treating that exactly the same as if you insulted anyone else. One of the things you listed as something you wanted to work on was your rudeness."

Yeah, but only because Hazel had got weird about him listing 'not being such a brat' and called him into a bunch of extra meetings until they had some more 'concrete' and 'achievable' goals. Dare had been assigned days ago, because he'd known the right answers, but it was yet another test Henry failed.

"I'm hearing a lot of shame," Birch said. "I could just thrash you every time you say something inappropriate, but it'd be more effective to work on the root cause. You called yourself fucked up. I want a positive affirmation to go with these last two strokes. You're going to say 'I am allowed to enjoy ...' then list something you do. Okay?"

There had to be some specific lesson that covered that fucking technique. Henry still owed Tricia a six item list of positive things about himself and, because he'd refused to give them during the spanking, she wanted each one written out ten times.

Henry was starting to feel ridiculous, bent over a chair with his arse out when it wasn't even getting smacked, so he tried a little malicious compliance.

"I am allowed to enjoy ... getting fucked up the arse by my sub?"

The pointer whistled and its impact reminded Henry that he wouldn't want to be doing that for a while. It crossed all the previous strokes at a diagonal, sending what felt like streaks of lightning along each stripe. His entire backside crackled with agony.

"Very good boy," Birch told him. "I thought we'd have to work our way up to kinks, but you jumped right in with something you're actually struggling with accepting. Can you give me another? It doesn't need to be a kink. A hobby, a colour, a food."

Henry took a moment, digesting that instead of an 'ew, too much information' Birch seemed actually proud of him?

"Though," Birch said, like he'd just thought of something, "if you admit to liking pineapple on pizza, we're going to have a problem ... we'll be fighting over the last slice of Hawaiian."

Despite himself and the sizzling sensation in his arse, Henry snorted in amusement. Who the fuck made dumb jokes when he should be scolding or talking dirty?

"I'm allowed to like spanking," Henry said, eventually. "Other people, I mean."

Maybe if he said it that way it might become true.

The pointer crossed his arse on the other diagonal, setting all the nerves in his arse on fire again.

Absolutely insane that it felt like a reward.

"Both excellent ideas that I've been known to enjoy myself," Birch praised him. He took a step backwards. "Take your time getting up. That was a nasty set for a beginner. But I've seen teachers take a swishing less calmly than you just did."

Henry shoved himself upright immediately. He swayed a little.

Birch didn't steady him. He just watched with a slightly raised eyebrow, polishing his pointer with a glasses cloth and something in a spray bottle.

Henry's hackles rose, braced for the condescending advice to be careful.

"Hm." Birch gave the pointer one last rub. "You dislike vulnerable positions. I'll do my best to keep those for punishment only. How would you like your aftercare?"

How would he like ...?

How many ways were there even to ...?

"You don't seem like the cuddles while I rub arnica into your precious little bum type, Keen, but feel free to prove me wrong."

"My Tops have been," Henry spat.

Birch sat down.

"That or fuck me hard over the nearest surface," Henry added, trying to get a rise again. Anger or arousal, he wasn't fussed.

Birch patted his knee.

"Fuck off."

"Would you rather I buggered you over the nearest available surface?"

Honestly, yeah. Way less embarrassing.

"I don't want either of those methods from you," Henry snapped. "Just dunno what else there is."

Birch smiled that shitty proud way again. "You could kneel at my feet while I stroke your hair. You could squeeze in next to me on this chair and just lean against me. You could go over my knee with your bum in the air for a nice petting. We could move to the sofa and just hold hands. You could sit back down in your chair and just chat. What's important is that you get the reassurance that I'm here to look after you and I get the reassurance that I haven't beaten you so hard you're scared of me."

Henry rolled his eyes. He also pulled his trousers up. His pants felt like a fucking cheese grater over his arse. "I'm only scared of your taste in pizza."

"As you should be." Birch nodded. "Jalapenos also feature heavily on my ideal order."

Henry stuck out his tongue and gagged. He also crossed the room and put his hand on the armrest of Birch's chair. Sitting didn't seem like something he wanted to do any time soon.

Birch laid his hand over Henry's, interlacing their fingers. "I'm going to have to insist we head to the Wurst Brat and get you a hot drink and an edible treat." He offered Henry a clean handkerchief, because he was the sort of posh prick who had a handkerchief. "I'll pay, since I'm the reason you cried so much and need rehydrating."

There wasn't the slightest hint of mockery about the crying, just calm statement of fact. Henry had cried. A neutral state of being. It was hard to remember what was shameful about it when no one else was acting as if it was.

Hazel cleared her throat.

Henry jumped and tried to snatch his hand away, but Birch held him tight. He'd half forgotten they had an audience.

She beamed at them. "I see a lot of these mentorships when they're just starting out and yours looks very promising."

She'd probably say that even if she was certain they were going to crash and burn though.

"Brandon, what do you think?" Hazel asked.

Birch squeezed Henry's hand. "I think he's just right for me. Nice mix of sweet, sour, and spicy. I'll make sure his bottom is frequently striped and keep working on those personal goals."

Hazel turned to Henry. "And how do you feel about Brandon looking after you until you've completed your probation goals?"

Henry shrugged one shoulder. The one opposite where Birch held his hand captive. "He's a prick. My arse hurts. He jumped down my throat at the first excuse. Isn't that, like, ideal DM shit?"

Birch's soft smile was as happy as if Henry had actually called him ideal.

Which he maybe slightly had.

"Yeah, okay," Henry added, his arse throbbing too much for anything but honesty. "We'll see if he can keep the hardman act up long enough to knock some sense into me."

Hazel's grin got impossibly wider. "Oh, you boys are communicating on each other's wavelength already." She bustled around her desk with a thick wad of paper stapled together at one corner. The Disciplinary Mentor contact. "You've both been through this with me. Are there any changes you'd like to make now you've met?"

Henry had maybe slightly approached it with the expectation he'd be getting a similar set up to how it had been training under Marshall. An older, more confident Top who needed the bribe of getting to fuck him to keep him invested. The thought he might get a girl hadn't felt relevant, even though he knew Indira and Tricia wanted the job. Henry wasn't uninterested in girls, but he wasn't interested in physically topping either.

Birch knew exactly what Henry had marked on his official university kink profile as suitable punishment. And Henry felt better about it if it was transactional.

Rather than Birch coming in to solve Henry's problems, because he'd fucked up too badly to do it himself, it could be Henry offering the only thing he had worth offering in exchange for that help.

Birch shook his head. "No, ma'am. I'm happy with it as it stands." His thumb rubbed circles on the web of skin between Henry's thumb and pointing finger.

"Nah," Henry grunted. "It's whatever."

Hazel placed the contract on the low table in front of them with a pen. "Just need your signatures and you're all set, boys."

Birch leaned forward and signed immediately. He gave Henry a wolfish smirk. "Last chance to back out of giving me blanket permission to keep your bum in the condition it is right now for a week. I know Friedwald paddled you for the original offences, but I also know how soft he is for pouty little brats. And what Burns got for aiming high. I'll be topping those stripes up whenever they look too faded and I am entirely serious about making certain that you don't sit comfortably for a full week."

Henry's stomach made a valiant escape attempt in the direction of the Australian lifestyle university he'd thought he'd have to transfer to. "You need to let go of my hand if you want me to sign. Um, sir."

He was immediately released, but Birch's hand moved to the small of his back, just resting there. It felt like a warning, his hand could slip lower for a smack or a squeeze, and a comfort, letting Henry know he was still right there.

"You don't like calling me sir," Birch observed, as Henry leaned forward to add his signature to the document.

"It's what I called my ex," Henry told him.

"Yeah. It's the default, sadly. I could send an exemption around to your teachers requesting they consider it a hard limit, but I think it's best if you get other connotations associated instead. Like if you had an aversion to writing in black ink, it's compulsory enough that you're not going to be able to avoid it."

Henry glared at him. "Why mention it if you can't, or won't, do shit about it?"

"You don't have to call me sir," Birch told him. "No epithet required." He took Henry's hand in his again, now the signing was done. "I'd prefer it if you didn't call me by any insult either, but I do recognise that I'm asking for it with my chosen surname. Which, just between you and me, was deliberate."

He stood up smoothly, reminding Henry that 'only a little bit taller' wasn't entirely accurate. Birch was only half an inch shorter than Flick, though he had a lot less mass. He could comfortably tuck a standing Joshua under his armpit.

"Thank you, Ms Sitwell," Birch said with a silly little bow of his head. "See you in two weeks for an update?"

"I'll send you the details, Brandon," Hazel smiled.

Henry mumbled something that might have been a bye and permitted Birch to lead him out of the room by his hand.

"You chose your name?" Henry asked, as the door shut behind them.

"My mums teach here. I introduce myself as Brandon Skelp-Quirt and it makes anyone who's been taught by either nervous. Besides, it sounds ridiculous. Birch is alliterative, informative and easily corruptible into the equally informative Bitch."

Flick stood up from the chairs where he'd been waiting for Henry to come out. His eyes went straight to their clasped hands. "Does this make Albert the only member of my dorm you haven't put your hands on, Birch?"

"I never touched Keller and Burns quit Schoolroom after a couple of meetings," Birch replied calmly. "Alby on the other hand did throw a truly astonishing tantrum in one of Elly's classes and I was called in to assist. Little brat bit me and got a rather sterner application of hand to derrière than you offer, Friedwald."

"You'll see how stern I can be if you make a single mistake with Henry or Joshua, Brandon," Flick warned.

Birch raised an eyebrow and reached into his blazer with his free hand to pull out a spurtle. It had the word BITCH in raised letters across it. "Perhaps I should give this back to you, sir," Birch said, completely neutral, but definitely bringing his brat out to play a little. "Since arguably you're now the backseat Top. Joshua has agreed to be my Bottom and I just signed a disciplinary contract with Keen. Both of those take precedent over a mere dorm prefect."

Flick took the spurtle, then turned Birch roughly sideways to apply it to his backside. Birch leaned forward slightly to give him better access. Maybe the pointer had been audible outside the office, because Flick gave Birch eight smart smacks before tucking the spurtle back into Birch's blazer.

"Message received, sir," Birch said. He used the epithet very casually, the way one might use a friend's name or any informal acknowledgement like bro or man or mate. It still highlighted that, despite his words, he considered Flick a greater authority.

"Good lad," Flick told him and ruffled Birch's hair. Lad was for Tops, he barely used it since Keller had left. Boy was for Brats, that one got a good workout around Lamb, Joshua and Albert. And kid was neutral. Mostly for Henry, but he'd use it for any of his first years. Including Sadie.

Birch might be a Switch, but Flick was only seeing him as a Top who'd swooped in to take control of two of his Brats. He'd been more neutral towards Marshall, probably because that had been before Dare took advantage of Albert.

"Chalk has a tawse ready for if I mess up my first DMing," Birch reassured Flick. "And once he's done with me, I'll be sure to limp over to yours for another dose. Henry's welfare is my priority. And I love Joshua. He's my perfect boy and if I'm the one to hurt him, I'll be begging for punishment."

Flick gave a sharp nod. "I've been burned twice in very recent memory by the boys I trusted with my boys."

Twice? Henry could only think of Dare ... Oh. But Marshall hadn't been to blame at all. He didn't say anything in his Sir's defence. If Flick knew Henry had thrown that relationship away without a good reason, he'd insist he at least talk to Marshall and Henry was perfectly happy to ghost him forever.

Or not happy, but willing.

"If I was in your position, I wouldn't trust me either, sir," Birch said, taking out an actual comb and little mirror to fix his hair. "Thank you for letting me try."

Again, despite his words, his tone said something completely different. A condescending arrogance and certainty that he would do more than try. He would succeed.

Henry didn't disagree. Hazel hadn't been wrong about them talking on the same wavelength. It was just that a significant portion of that communication had been in the form of Birch's pointer to Henry's arse.

Birch's pointer had said no more excuses, no more leeway, no more hiding from yourself.

And Henry's arse had responded thank you.

Chapter Text

"Tatham?"

Birch and Keen. Keen and Birch. That was worse than Birch and Lamb. Lamb hadn't scened with the guy since Freshers week, because he didn't like having physical punishment taken away, and Joshua had taken the stuff at Halloween to be a very clear statement of intent, but Henry had shown up to dinner yesterday with a polite apology for his earlier behaviour and a settled calmness that made him seem body swapped.

"Tatham?"

Flick had pulled Keen's trousers down right there in front of the whole dorm to assess the damage and he hadn't argued at all, just leaned forward to present his stripes better. And then he'd sat on a hard dining chair with a sigh like it was a relief to get off his feet. It wasn't fair. If one of them got to be a masochist who could play at Birch's level from the start why couldn't it have been Joshua?

"Tatham!" A hand slapped down on the desk in front of him and he jumped to attention.

Professor Drubber glared down at him. It was so unfair inflicting the scariest teacher, head of the whole lifestyle department, on the first year brats. Even if he sort of looked like Santa off season, wore the softest jumpers and most of his wrinkles were smile lines. He still paddled more than hard enough to keep a class full of brats completely under his control.

"Tatham, can you tell me anything that happened in the last fifteen minutes of this lesson?" Drubber asked.

"Uh. You yelled at me for not paying attention, sir?"

There was the faintest twitch of a smile behind Drubber's white beard. Wouldn't save Joshua's butt. "Up to the front, boy. Flap down."

Joshua reached back to essentially bare his bottom as he stood up. A couple of other brats giggled at him, like thongs and jock straps weren't the underwear of choice for most of them. When they could be bared for punishment at any moment, modesty elsewhere was the trade for a very slight amount of protection that nine times out of ten would be removed anyway. And when most of them stopped wearing drop seats as they realised the uniform couldn't be enforced, it became even more useful.

He faced the board, quickly reading the example bad excuses listed there.

Drubber picked up the class paddle, a large one able to cover any bottom, that always made Joshua's feel very small and vulnerable. It was a relatively soft wood and didn't have holes, but it was dreaded nonetheless. Except by the second year and above. They felt nostalgic for it.

"So, Tatham. Bend over, brace against your shins and three excuses for not paying attention, please."

"Your lesson is really very boring, sir," Joshua said, obediently. "I couldn't be bothered."

The paddle landed with enough force he had to take a hand off his shin to stop himself from falling on his face.

"Very bratty, boy," Drubber praised. "The personal insult is a good route to getting your naughty little bottom spanked. But your attitude could use work. If you're going for polite, but scathing, try not to sound like you're apologising."

Joshua thought quickly, he couldn't use anything directly off the board or it wouldn't count and he'd still get the swat, but a variation might ...

"There was a bee in the room, sir. I was so worried it might sting me I simply couldn't concentrate."

"The only sting you should be worried about is the one in your bottom, boy," Drubber said and brought the paddle down again. "Better. Almost believable. You've got a talent for saying ridiculous things in a tone of injured innocence. Lean into that."

Joshua grinned at his feet and put as much whine into his voice as he could. "My brain was abducted by aliens, sir! I wasn't even really here to be able to pay attention!"

The paddle cracked down again and Joshua made a pained noise against his will, that had definitely been harder than the others. Which was as good as confirmation he'd done well.

"Good lad, Tatham," Drubber said. "Up you get." He put the paddle aside and gave Joshua a hug. It wasn't as good as one of Flick's, but he still relaxed into the touch. His cheek nuzzled against Drubber's extra soft jumper. "Maintaining concentration during punishment isn't easy. Now maybe try doing it for the actual lesson, hm?"

"I'll try, sir." Joshua shook his head sadly. "But those aliens are really outside my control."

Drubber laughed and gave him a light swat to get moving. "Cheeky brat."

Joshua practically glowed as he went back to his desk. What higher praise could there possibly be?

Sadie shifted from foot to foot.

"No squirming in the corner, girl," Skelp scolded.

She'd been there for fifteen minutes and her legs had developed pins and needles. Moving was required. Sadie tried to shift more subtly.

"Burns, front and centre," Skelp ordered.

"My leg went to sleep, ma'am!" she protested, but shuffled over, her clothes around her ankles and slowing her down.

Skelp, the first year Top teacher once they'd completed Wiel's introductory and passed the basic, gave her a sympathetic smile. "And what are you supposed to do if there's a legitimate, unintended, discomfort during any punishment?"

Sadie winced. "Say yellow, ma'am. But it wasn't that bad."

"Either it was minor enough that you could refrain from moving or it was worth calling a hiatus over. Which is it?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I didn't want to interrupt."

"And yet this scolding has been more of an interruption than just asking would have. And, Burns, what does this attitude you have right now, this unnecessary stoicism, teach any Bottom you might have?"

Sadie winced again. She wasn't getting out of this conversation without a few swats at minimum. "That I wouldn't care about their discomfort, ma'am, if I can't even look after my own."

Skelp sat down in the armless chair that was always standing ominously at the front where everyone could see. It had a small step up in front of it, so the petite teacher could rest her feet flat and fit even her tallest students over her lap.

It was a clear statement of intent and Sadie reluctantly stepped forward to stand to her side, facing the area she'd soon be draped across.

She patted her knee. "Renegotiation of punishment, Burns. You owe me five more minutes in the corner, one for each homework question you failed to complete. I'm going to spank you for the reason you just gave me. It's up to you if you return to the corner with your pink bottom on display or if I change that sentence to a bonus five with your carry?"

"Carry, please," Sadie said. A few extra swats was much better than further humiliation. Indira had left her pink and red enough for a few whispers when she'd been ordered into the corner and to bare her bottom for failing to produce her homework.

"I'm very proud that you could identify the problem with what you were saying and doing so precisely, Burns," Skelp told her. "Now, bend over."

She shuffled forward and complied, her breath hitching a little as Skelp's other knee dropped to push Sadie's bottom comparatively higher and give unrestricted access to her sit spots.

"You already seem quite sore, Burns, so I don't need to go particularly hard," Skelp commented.

Indira was thorough. And the reason Sadie hadn't produced her homework.

Yesterday had been Monday and the last of her scheduled spankings for slapping Keen. Indira had brought out a switch for the grand finale, stinging the whippy little twig across every part of Sadie's bottom, including a nasty interlude between her cheeks, until Sadie had been nothing but a teary mess.

Then, after dinner, she'd taken Sadie through to her playroom and introduced her to her strap-on. There had been absolutely no question of who had been in charge and on top, but there hadn't been any of the feeling small and powerless that Bas tended to inspire.

Maybe part of it was that Sadie was a couple of inches taller than Indira, but she thought it was more that she didn't need to be a brat. It wasn't a logical continuation of a playful punishment, though Indira set a punishing pace and wrung orgasms out of her with the same intensity she did tears. Instead it had been a very mutual expression of desire, that only coincided with Sadie having recently been spanked.

Indira had enjoyed her pain without any expectation that Sadie would do the same. Certainly not gentle with her, no mercy for her poor bottom striped so thoroughly in thin lines of pink and red, but there were no teasing threats or extra swats for her involuntary reactions, just plain orders and an expectation of obedience.

If Sadie wanted Indira to make her feel good, she would do as she was told.

It had taken very little training to get her to respond to the order to 'present'.

Sadie's feet left the floor as Skelp shifted her even further forward. The problem with the chair being set up so tall students could present their bottoms over Skelp's lap was that the shorter students ended up dangling.

"I'm surprised you caught a switching, Burns," Skelp said, patting her hand against the sore surface. "Your behaviour in my class has been generally excellent."

"I'll bring the homework to you by the end of the day, ma'am," Sadie promised. "I did it, I just left it at home."

It really had been Indira's fault. Those completed questions were sitting on her desk back in her dorm and she'd ended up spending last night in Indira's bed. And then a more playful spanking Sadie had earned over breakfast had run long, so she'd barely had time to get to class at all, let alone drop by her dorm to change or grab homework.

"The deadline was this class, Burns. If you can fulfill that promise, I'll mark it without penalty, but you're still going to receive punishment for lateness. If you can't produce it by the end of the day, we'll be having a longer discussion with my strap." Skelp's hand lifted ominously. "That will be the five at the end with your carry hairbrush. This is for failing to respect your needs during punishment. I am not a mind reader, Burns, nor is any Top. Failure to communicate leads to genuine discomfort being seen as disobedience."

"I understand, ma'am," Sadie said and bit back a cry at the first smack to her very sore bottom.

She still didn't regret a moment she'd spent with Indira. She would do exactly the same again. Forgotten homework and switch and all.

---

Lamb was curled up in Cy Warner's arms, the Top just starting to stir in readiness for another round, when his phone alert went off to tell him that his absence had been noticed.

Cy snatched the phone from him just as Lamb opened Indira's email account to delete her notification.

"Dear Ms Chaudhri?" Cy asked. "Either you're catfishing someone as your terrifyingly hot mentor or you're in trou-ble." He said it in the sing song way of playgrounds everywhere.

"Trouble," Lamb admitted easily, using dirty tactics and rolling his hips to distract. Cy was plumping up nicely between his cheeks.

"Mhm." Cy tossed the phone out of the way along the bed and shoved Lamb facedown, caging him with his body. "Why am I not surprised?"

Tricia rescued Lamb's phone and read the email. She had been leaning back in the chair next to the bed, Aaron's head between her legs, and chatting casually to the naked boys.

Benefits of communal living. Cy had struck gold when he'd been assigned Tricia as his mentor last year and, despite his official Top designation, was living his best Switch life now his boy had come to join them. Lamb was an occasional visitor, when he really wanted to be railed by someone he actually enjoyed the company of outside sex.

Unfortunately, despite certain Bohemian attitudes — aftercare snacks were going to be slices of marijuana infused honey cake — Tricia was still a Top with a friendly rivalry with Indira. "This something I need to tell Indira about, Ru?" she asked.

"You can if you like." Lamb got his legs under him, pushing his arse up for Cy's convenience. "Haven't done anything with it yet, though, just wanted to see if I could get in. Thought I might send a pic of my arse around to all her teachers. See if I can collect bruises from the full set."

Tricia laughed. "As long as it's just a little bratty mischief. Cyril, I think that bottom needs to be a whole lot sorer before he gets you inside him again."

Cy withdrew, just far enough that he could get a good swing, and grabbed a little wooden paddle from the dresser. Lamb hissed as it smacked into his upper thigh.

His phone chirped again.

Tricia tutted. "You didn't mention you were skipping class to hang with us, Ru. Indira says she's dropping by your dorm this evening to fulfill that punishment slip. Don't go easy on him, Cy, he's a naughty little brat who's always either up to something or recovering from the consequences of having been up to something."

Lamb winced. First time he hadn't been quick enough to delete before Indira had seen it. As far as she was concerned that was his first punishment slip. He suspected she'd go a bit harder than required, just to set a precedent.

The little paddle warmed his arse, but Cy's intent was pleasure and Lamb took it as such. When Tricia decided she wanted a different view and ordered Cy to get on with it, Lamb had long since stopped worrying about his scheduled punishment and was deep in the enjoyment of the moment.

He didn't even think about it again until Indira showed up at Flick's dorm after dinner.

Alby had been telling a convoluted story about how someone had tipped paint down the slide at the Littles' play area and everyone who had gone down it had got pink bums. Even after it had been noticed, several Little Brats had gone down on purpose, because it was funny. He'd been one of them and was still pouting about how Elly had unbuttoned his drop seat and smacked his bottom to match.

The doorbell had gone and Sadie had leapt up to answer it. Anything to avoid having to listen to more childish explanations.

She'd gone very very pink around the face when she'd found it was Indira, casually holding a leather-soled slipper.

"I didn't ..." Sadie spluttered.

Indira gave her a smile. "This is for Reuben, Sadie. His first punishment slip. Unless there's anything you want to confess, you're still my good girl and can come over for a treat whenever you like."

"What sort of treat?" Lamb asked, leering a little as he joined them. "You two finally figure out who gets to be on top? It's Indira, right?"

Sadie blushed an even deeper pink.

"Obviously," Indira said and casually squeezed Sadie's bum as she entered the dorm. "Any reason you want to offer for why you skipped class, Ru, or do we skip to the part where we sort out completing that punishment slip from Brawn?"

"If I want to practice brat on brat, Keen is always available," Lamb shrugged. "And he doesn't act like I'm going to turn Top at any provocation."

"Discuss your issues with the other students with Professor Brawn," Indira ordered. "Don't skip classes. That's just going to end with you over my knee for another solid thirty with this slipper." She breezed into the common room and took a seat on one of the sofas. "Bottom, Ru. Now."

Flick cleared his throat softly. "Brawn?"

"They teach Interpersonal Bratting," Lamb told him, making the smart choice and following Indira.

"No, I know Brawn. Dare had them in second year, flunked their class, of course..." Flick pulled his phone out. "But before that he earned a whole lot of punishment slips. They were pretty consistent then. Didn't matter what the slip was for, they started at a recommendation of four and added two strokes to every subsequent..."

Lamb froze with his hand on his fly. Indira was looking at him.

"Ah."

It was the exact same noise that Flick had made when he'd checked Henry's file and discovered the lack of basic licence.

"Reuben."

Fuck. Flick was pissed. Like some massive, placid herbivore who nonetheless was equipped with fuck off horns in case it was bothered by a predator. And Lamb was just a baby wolf.

Lamb gulped. "Sir?"

"Can you tell me why every punishment slip in your file has been signed by me, when I have no memory of ever fulfilling a single one?"

Lamb's lips were dry. He licked them. "I can, sir."

"You are going to."

With the intensity of two unhappy Tops on him, it all came out. Taking the opportunity to borrow Indira's email login. Setting it up to alert him when anything arrived. An unconscious dart of his eyes in an incriminating direction gave away Henry's part in it.

The worst part had been that nothing had landed on either backside.

Apparently, what happened to Henry for it was now Birch's decision and Indira ...

Indira had looked Lamb dead in the eye and informed him that he would be receiving each and every one of the punishments detailed on the thirty or so slips he'd collected since the start of term. And then, only then, would she deal with his lies, hacking and forgery. And then Flick would take his turn to deal with the same. He had one night to bid farewell to his arse before she began the process of administering them.

It was going to take weeks.

Even if he could take two or three a day.

She needed the time to calculate how much punishment he could realistically take. How long the breaks between sessions needed to be. And to liaise with his teachers to set up a system with multiple failsafes to prevent him getting around it again.

Lamb had been very short sighted. Most nights he'd gone out and scened with whoever would have him. Often that had left him sore enough that misbehaviour in class would get him a slip instead of immediate discipline.

And he hadn't cared, because he knew he had a system for catching the slips before they happened to him.

There was one other factor that had greatly inflated the number of slips he'd received.

Homework.

Lamb hadn't done a single piece.

That was time he could use in so many better, more fun ways. He valued his free time.

Another thing, along with his ability to sit, that he could say goodbye to. Indira was going to make him complete those assignments, even if his teachers said absolutely not on it counting for any credit.

He was so beyond doomed.

But as Henry snuggled in close against his chest, not blaming him in the slightest for dragging him down too, though the over a thousand quid he'd accumulated from the forgeries had to be sweetening that attitude, Lamb felt more relief than fear.

It had never been intended to be something he got away with. He honestly wished it had been discovered sooner, when he'd have less punishment to get through in a single block.

When he'd filled in his Bratford application forms, Lamb had specified that he wanted a strict Top mentor. Someone who could keep him on track. He'd never been good at internal motivation for anything that wasn't fun or felt good. Unless he had something not fun that felt bad he was trying to avoid.

Finally, Indira was going to be exactly that for him.

It was going to really suck, and not in the way Henry had before they'd tumbled into bed together to actually sleep, but Lamb knew it wasn't going to be a mistake he was permitted to make twice.

Henry made a soft noise and tried to huddle in closer. He was so sweet and needy when he slept. The vulnerability of sharing a bed overnight was something he hadn't permitted before Birch had given him a personality transplant via stick to arse.

Now he had him, Lamb wasn't letting go. Sex aside, he suspected Henry was touch starved. Unconscious, he sought body heat and made a valiant effort to worm his way into Lamb's chest.

Honestly, he was already in there. Curled up tight and safe in Lamb's heart.

Chapter Text

"We're not doing this any more."

"Okay." Bas slid a refill for her usual coffee order off his tray and sat down opposite her anyway. "Can I ask why?"

The Wurst Brat was crowded at midmorning on a Saturday, but Sadie didn't recognise anyone who might care that she was there with a guy.

She pushed her student card towards him.

Bas grinned. "This you telling me you want to switch a little, Sadie? Have I been naughty?"

"I got a retest. Two actually, since we started 
... I'm just not a Bottom. And I was wrong. I like you, Bas, but topping feels so much more right."

Indira felt so much more right, but Sadie wasn't cruel enough to tell him that. Even if they weren't exclusive, she was essentially leaving him for another Top.

He nodded. His complete lack of devastation was irritating. "I'd sort of been waiting for you to tell me that, Sadie. Once you get comfortable, you're a bossy little thing. Topping from the bottom. It's cute, don't get me wrong, but I figured you'd want the real thing eventually."

"And you have a real Top." Sadie finished her current coffee and tried the one he'd got for her. She didn't think she could've got his order right without checking, but his attempt was spot on.

"Sadie."

She jerked to attention at his tone.

"If you're implying that you aren't a real Top, I'm going to take my crop to you right here and now."

Sadie hadn't felt it for anything but play since the taster session and really didn't want a repeat performance. Especially not in the middle of the Wurst Brat. She'd never be able to return and they had the best cheesecake. "No, sir. I didn't mean ... Just that you're already in a relationship of that kind. You don't need another real Top."

Bas relaxed. "I hope you'll still be coming along to the Historical Society?" He really was taking the news as though it was nothing. Not the outcome of her wrestling with her identity for weeks.

She nodded. "If you won't find it awkward."

His foot brushed against hers under the table. "Not at all. But if you don't want me disciplining you for anything that might happen at our play sessions ..."

"No!" She jerked her foot away. "I mean, no, I don't mind you doing that. I'll accept the same consequences as everyone else."

Bas leaned back in his chair, as casual as if his foot really had just slipped. "Don't slam the door behind you, Sadie. No hard feelings that it didn't work out. If you ever want a one off scene, call me. If you need a casual disciplinarian, call me. If you need a hand across your backside for any reason at all, I'd love it to be my hand." He stood up, taking his coffee to go. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go ask Belle to paddle me so I have a better reason to cry." His grin didn't waver, but it wasn't anywhere close to reaching his eyes.

There was just enough emotion behind the joking tone that Sadie realised he wasn't as unaffected as he was pretending. The little pushes and hints that he wanted more than casual sex had been genuine.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, lingering for a moment. "I'll be watching you very carefully for naughtiness at club sessions, Miss Burns," he told her, playful again. "They all know to send you to me for punishment. So, be good, because I'll be waiting if you aren't."

Sadie wasn't sure if it was a threat or a promise.

She waited exactly five minutes after he'd left to get up and go home.

Flick's dorm was as chaotic as usual. Alby was throwing a tantrum at Elly about not being able to find the exact stuffed toy he wanted to take to his Littles' club and everyone else had been enlisted to help search. Lamb was enthusiastically turning the living room upside down, Joshua was trying to put his shoes on at the same time as dodging Lamb's enthusiasm and Keen was rubbing his bottom where Flick had just swatted him for not helping.

"Sadie?" Flick said in surprise. "I thought you'd already gone to Schoolroom?"

Joshua paused with one foot lifted and halfway into his shoe, looking at her nervously.

"I ..." Sadie shook her head. "I've decided not to go anymore. Not for me."

Flick gave her a supportive smile. "As long as you're sure that's the right choice. We're just looking for -"

Keen grabbed the teddy bear from the top of the fridge and lobbed it across the entire dorm at Alby. "Use your fucking eyes!"

With a sigh, Flick went over to swat Keen again.

Lamb flopped onto the cushionless sofa, surrounded by the mess he'd made.

Keen opened the drawer of disciplinary items in the kitchen and handed Flick the TIDY UP spurtle.

As Flick strode towards Lamb, whose only reaction was to yawn loudly, the doorbell rang.

Sadie was smiling as she opened it. She could just imagine the looks of horror on her former dormmates faces if they had to face this sort of thing at all, let alone on a daily basis.

Birch smirked back. "Morning, Burns. Tatham! Heel. We're late."

Keen came over to give Joshua an encouraging swat, as though it was helpful to knock him off balance as he tried to tie his shoelaces.

Flick straightened up from where he'd swatted Lamb off the sofa and into starting to fix the mess he'd made. It hadn't taken many, Lamb had been constantly sore since Indira found out about the punishment slips. He tapped the spurtle against his palm. "Birch. Sadie's decided she's stepping away from the Mortarboards for the foreseeable. Can you respect that decision or do we need to have a conversation?"

Birch's eyebrow raised. "Any excuse to bend me over, Friedwald, and, no. I can't respect that decision, as Sadie isn't a member of the Mortarboards. Or the Schoolroom Society. In fact, I haven't seen her at any of our meetings since the taster session. During Freshers' Week."

Sadie took a step away from him, her eyes and smile dropping.

"Isn't that interesting?" Birch wasn't looking at her any longer. "Now, I'm surprised Joshua didn't say anything. Perhaps he could help solve this mystery?"

Joshua shook his head quickly. "I don't know where she's been going, just that it's not ..."

"Not where she told me she was going," Flick said. His real, deserved disappointment was just as bad as she'd anticipated. "You've been lying to me, biscuit?"

Sadie nodded, unable to look up from the floor.

Birch beckoned Joshua. "Helping a friend lie to their dorm prefect or mentor or Top is lying too, sunshine. We've got to hurry now, so we're not too late, but when you get home, Flick's going to paddle you and put you to bed early. Does that seem fair, little boy?"

"Yes, sir," Joshua told Birch's knees, head bowed even lower than Sadie's. "I'd rather get it over with now, though."

"I know." Birch steered Joshua out the door with an arm around his waist.

Elly and Alby followed them, Alby refusing to look at Keen for throwing his toy.

The door closed with a click that set Sadie's nerves on edge.

Lamb threw a cushion at Keen's head. "Can I borrow that spatula, sir? I can get this sorted in half the time if Keen helps and he's not going to without motivation."

"Shove that spatula up your arse, Lamb," Keen spat.

"I would, but Flick wants it back and I reckon he'd break it on my arse if I tried."

Flick did not surrender the spurtle. He tucked it into his back pocket. "Boys, I want this living room how it was when we all got up this morning. If it isn't like that when I come back out here, bottoms will be bared. Understood?"

Both of them chorused a 'yes, sir'. As Flick turned to her, Lamb offered a supportive wink and Keen did her the kindness of pretending he didn't care. She was starting to understand him a bit better with more exposure. He was the opposite of Spooner, who spoke sweetly and acted like a total bitch. Keen was just very committed to making everyone think he was a total bitch.

Spooner would've hidden the bear better so she could watch Alby's meltdown.

Sadie allowed herself to be steered towards Flick's office, feeling as though there was a chunk of lead in her chest. That door closing behind them made her flinch.

Flick spun one of the chairs in front of his desk around and sat down, drawing her to stand between his legs. "So. Every Saturday you've been leaving the dorm. You told me you were going to sessions of Birch's roleplaying society. Are you ready to tell me the truth?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, Sadie. Will you please stand in the corner until you are ready?"

She shook her head again.

"That wasn't optional, biscuit. Right now I'm imagining the worst, I need to know you're okay and safe. Whatever you're lying about, it's not as bad as what I'm thinking. If you'd told me it was private and you didn't want to tell me, that would have been okay. Since you lied instead, I will have the whole truth."

"I was seeing someone," Sadie admitted in a rush. She didn't feel old enough to have been seeing anyone. She felt tiny and in oh so much trouble. "A ... a Top. And it didn't work out and I'm a Top really really and I didn't want you to think I was a Switch and treat me like Dare and Keen and ..."

Flick lay a gentle but firm finger over her lips. "Darius and Henry are trouble. They're the sort of brats who need constant negative attention. If you were a Switch, I'd treat you exactly the same as I do now. As a level-headed young woman who's going to flourish into an excellent Tamer. I have never, not once, questioned your dynamic as you choose to present it. Trying it out, making sure, is an incredibly brave decision. One I've never had the courage to make. And it wasn't for you, that's okay. Remember the way you like your hot chocolate? Trying a cup of tea doesn't make you any less of a chocolate drinker."

"I'm sorry," Sadie said, sure she was going to cry before he'd even started.

"You were scared." He turned her sideways, facing his left leg. "I understand why you did, but you still lied to me. And we're going to deal with that now. Lower your trousers."

Hopelessly, she shook her head yet again. "Can't you -?"

"I can, but this is about you being honest with me. If you think you deserve a spanking for this, you will bare yourself for it. Let us both know you agree with what I'm doing. That you're going to act differently in the future."

Her hands crept towards her the fastening of her trousers. "What are you going to use, sir?" She really didn't want to have to stand there with her knickers down while he fetched it.

"My hand." He showed her his large, calloused palm. "First offence, even if you lied multiple times over several weeks, and first time with a new disciplinarian. It's still going to hurt and I'm not going to stop until you surrender, unless you safe. Your bottom is going to be very sore and pink for the rest of the day."

That didn't make it any easier to undo her trousers and let them drop, but she did it. Then she reached for the waistband of her underwear.

"Those can stay up for now," Flick told her. "But they will be coming down a little later."

Trembling, Sadie allowed herself to be bent over his knee. He only put her over one, his left, with her bottom presented for his right palm. Fully over his lap, she suspected her feet wouldn't reach the floor. Her hands barely did on the other side.

"Brave girl." His hand settled on the seat of her underwear, adjusting her to its presence and the potential of more touching the same way Heidi had for Sadie's first time. 

It wasn't the first time he'd touched her there and the other times she'd been bare. He was her designated aftercarer and he took that responsibility very seriously. There had been none of the lingering or drifting touches that Indira and Bas both liked, just on with the arnica, a thorough, but gentle, rub into the sore spots and a nice cuddle while it soaked in.

"How do you feel, biscuit?" Flick patted her lightly, adjusting her to that idea too.

Sadie would sort of prefer it if he just laid into her like her teachers did. This careful handling gave her time for the guilt to really sink in.

"Green," she told him, shakily.

"Thank you for that, Sadie, but I meant emotionally. Are you stressed or scared? Do we need to talk more about why I'm doing this? If you think this is in any way unfair, I'd rather we had that conversation before I spank you."

Sadie shook her head quickly. "I lied to you, sir. Mostly just feeling guilty. Can you, uh, get on with it? Please."

"I can't promise this will make all that guilt go away, biscuit," Flick told her. "But in my experience, from both sides, this is effective as both stress relief and guilt relief." He lowered his voice. "Don't tell the boys, but sometimes I still need a sore bottom to help me deal with big emotions and likely always will."

She wasn't entirely sure she believed him. Flick was just so Top that it was hard to imagine him choosing to submit.

"Now, I'm going to turn this little bottom bright red and you can wriggle and whine and have a nice, cathartic cry about it. You lying to me really hurts, biscuit, so we're going to even up those scales. And, remember, if you lie to me again, the punishment will be worse."

"Yes, sir," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

As Sadie felt his hand pat her one last time, she realised that little wasn't hyperbolic. His palm was wide and fingers long enough that pretty much the entire surface of her butt was going to be covered with each smack. She closed her eyes and tried to brace without clenching.

"Good girl," Flick said and lit into her.

Each blow knocked her forward and she had to push out her bottom again for the next, forcing her to be complicit in her own spanking. It didn't hurt much at first, he punished with a lighter hand than anyone she'd felt besides Keen, but the burn built steadily. Even for fun, Bas hit harder, but there had never been this guilt turning it into something she felt she truly deserved.

Sadie gave an experimental kick of her legs, just to check he'd permit it when she couldn't control that reflex any more.

He didn't. She was hauled forward, bottom pointing directly upwards, and his other leg trapped hers. Flick didn't miss a beat in the spanking, just casually immobilised her. Wriggling was the only way she could express her discomfort without taking her hands off the floor and she did.

She didn't need to control herself, like Indira demanded, or play at reluctance, like Bas required. Her honest reactions were the least she owed Flick and she offered them.

He had her. Totally contained in his hold and with no hope of escape beyond her safewords. For a moment, panic overwhelmed her and she thrashed, but the steady thud of his hand was evidence of just how in control of himself he was as well.

Sadie trusted him.

Flick had earned that, with a hundred little moments of understanding and willingness to listen. If he was the kind of sadistic Top who would override a safeword, he would have spanked her when she came to him with an undeserved punishment slip. This one there was no question that she was in the wrong.

The pain kept rising like a tide, utterly unstoppable and unavoidable. But there was relief in surrender to a force so much greater than herself. Sadie whined from the very back of her throat, not sure if she wanted mercy or for it to continue until there was nothing left in her cluttered brain, just a well spanked bottom and the rhythm of his hand falling.

"That's it, Sadie," Flick said, shifting his blows a little lower to catch her sit spots. "Let it all out."

She sniffled, the pain cresting and crashing down in waves.

Flick didn't stop immediately, but started winding down the spanking, lightening his swats slowly until they were gentle pats before just resting his palm on her backside. "Mhm," he said sympathetically. "Yeah, I think you needed that, biscuit."

"'nk you," she mumbled through her tears.

"You're welcome, biscuit. Ready for me to take your knickers down and finish this up?"

That heralded a fresh wave of tears. "'m sor-ry!"

"Just a little more," he encouraged. "You'll know the difference when we reach enough. And I promised you a bare bottom spanking. I don't intend to lie to you."

Even though she had lied to him.

Sadie nodded and lifted her hips. "O-okay."

"There's my brave girl." His big fingers hooked into her waistband and tugged her underwear out of the way. He moved his leg so he could drop them all the way down to her ankles, then pinned her legs again. "Settle down again, biscuit, that's it. Good job keeping your hands under control. And you haven't sworn at me once."

She giggled through her tears. The bar was so low when they mostly dealt with brats. With Keen in the running, it was subterranean.

Flick chuckled softly too. "We're all right, Sadie. I promise. Though now would be the best time to confess anything else you've been up to?"

"Nothing else!" Sadie said quickly. "I mean, um, I am kind of seeing Indira, but that isn't who I was sneaking off to see."

"Indira came to me last Sunday and told me that I wasn't your father and, even if I was, she wouldn't subscribe to anything as Christian coded and patriarchal as asking for my blessing, but that she'd appreciate knowing I wasn't going to make things difficult for you if I disapproved of her. And that if I simply must make things difficult, to do it at her, since she can smack my interfering bottom all the way out of her business."

That definitely sounded like something Indira would do.

"I told her she had my blessing and she smacked me," Flick added.

Very fair.

Sadie whimpered as his hand raised above her bottom again. She didn't want more.

"Let's get all those tears out, biscuit. No point in doing this halfway. I want you so wrung out I have to put you down for a nap on the sofa in here. All snuggled up under a blanket with a sore bottom and pouting that I'm keeping you awake to drink water."

She pouted at the floor as his hand crashed down again. That was the meanest thing she'd ever heard.

Chapter Text

"Got anything planned for The Visitation?" Birch asked the five of them gathered around the table. And Flick, who was at the kitchen counter making hot drinks.

"Visitation?" Henry asked suspiciously. "Is that some lifestyle holiday only weirdos like Lamb celebrate?"

His smile didn't twitch, but Birch pulled a little device with a button out of his pocket and clicked it. He considered the number on the dials. "That's a full dozen, Keen. Keep it up and you'll be striped right down to your ankles. And, to answer your question, no, I mean Family Open Weekend, when a bunch of confused vanilla parents blunder across campus and we all have to pretend we're a lot less spicy than reality."

"Legacy," Lamb reminded them. "My family will be coming up to gawk at the normies. When they came up for my sister's a couple of years ago, they were responsible for a divorce. Turns out only one member of the couple they propositioned was really up for it. It's ridiculous how lax education on consent is outside the lifestyle."

Henry groaned. "Lamb, that anecdote explains everything about you."

Birch reached for the clicker again.

"I never said that was a bad thing!" Henry protested, though he'd absolutely meant it that way. He shivered a little at Birch's warning look. It was terrifying how quickly he'd fallen under the sway of a new Top. But, like, this one was primarily concerned with teaching him manners. Whole lot less intense, though the punishments were much more.

"My parents are going to be confused and vanilla," Sadie told them. "As will my sister, Tanya."

Henry snorted.

"What?" Sadie hissed.

"Your parents, the Burns family, named their daughters Sadie and Tanya and they're vanilla?" Henry asked.

She swatted the side of his thigh. "Say anything of the sort to them and I'll take a spoon to you."

It was nice to see her more confident, even if, counterintuitively, it had come from playing brat for Indira. Like that fulfilled all her submissive urges, so she could top all the rest of the time. Henry got it, he was experiencing something similar with Birch.

It was just a pity the Saturday licence tests had been cancelled this week, he felt confident in his ability to pass this time. Henry guessed they weren't on because of this Visitation. He hadn't cared enough to ask why earlier.

"My father can't get here until the evening Saturday and has to head off Sunday morning, so just dinner," Albert told them. "Can't scandalise him too badly that way."

"Joshua?" Henry asked, to avoid having to give his own answer.

The brat shoved his chair away from the table. "I'm going to bed."

Flick caught him by the waist as he tried to slip past. "We're waiting on takeaway, little boy, so sit your bottom back down."

Joshua wriggled. "Not hungry."

"You were hungry minutes ago when you begged for pad Thai." Flick casually hooked his fingers into the back of Joshua's trousers like he was about to pull them down. "Which of those was a lie, hm? Because you know the consequences of lying to me."

"I stopped being hungry because Keen made me think of my mother," Joshua grumbled.

Flick smoothed down the back of Joshua's trousers. "How horrible of him. But is that a good enough reason to storm off in a sulk, little boy?"

"Yes?" Joshua said hopefully.

"Or my littlest brat is asking for a pre-dinner spanking? Three options, Josh. You go sit down like a good boy, you ask nicely for a settle down spanking or you keep arguing and earn yourself a proper hot bottom."

Henry squirmed himself at that threat. He didn't understand how Joshua didn't implode with embarrassment whenever Flick talked like that.

"Settle down spanking, please," Joshua said chirpily.

Flick peeled his trousers down at the back immediately. "Good boy. A little pink in these cheeks always makes you feel much better, doesn't it?" He raised his big hand and brought it down sharply.

Joshua wriggled happily under the spanking. He squeaked and blushed as his bottom quickly turned pink. "Siiiiiiir!"

Birch leaned on the table next to Henry. "Got an answer for me, Keen, or do I need to spank it out of you? I'd need a switch to make you wriggle quite that adorably, but that's no hardship for me."

Henry shook his head. "I don't have an answer, sir, but I doubt it. Since I didn't tell my parents what university I'd be going to. I think there was some finance stuff they had to deal with, so maybe they know, but I don't give a shit, so why would they?"

"Language, Keen," Birch warned lightly. "I should keep a separate profanity counter."

Figured that would be his priority. "Respectfully, Bitch, we're fucking adults, no one gives a shit if I swear."

The direct insult got him a click on the counter, then Birch smiled and levered him up from the table by his ear. "It would be a shame to ruin a nice meal, Keen, so I'm not going to wash your mouth out. And you've got the counter to take later, so I can't go too hard on your bottom. What does that leave?"

"I'm not giving you ideas for how to punish me." Henry folded his arms.

A way down the table, Flick gave Joshua one last whack and pulled him into a tight hug. "Whatever happens with her, I'll be there to support you, okay, kid? However you want me to."

"Pants down, Keen," Birch drawled. "And present your bottom for consideration."

Henry still burned with embarrassment as he obeyed, even though they'd all been half naked in front of each other enough by this point it wasn't even slightly interesting.

"Hm," Birch said, giving him a light swat. "Anyone used capsicum on you, Keen?"

He wanted to lie and say no, but Lamb was right there to call him out. "Yes, sir, but, uh, only inside."

"Tempting," Birch said, "but it works just as well outside." He pulled a not really latex glove out of his pocket along with a tube of arnica and capsicum paste. The first time Henry had seen the blazers he'd been baffled by the size of the pockets, deep, reinforced and wrapping from almost the buttons to halfway around the side of the jacket. Now he knew it was so Tops could be mean while mobile.

Henry clenched up, not entirely confident Birch wouldn't stick some inside him right there in front of everyone. Even less confident that he'd safeword if he tried.

Instead the paste was liberally smoothed across his sit spots and rubbed in thoroughly. Henry found himself relaxing at the sensation. It was just like aftercare without the soreness. Weird, but nice. It didn't burn. Yet. Ginger had an immediacy, as soon as the liquid soaked it in would start, but capsicum lay in wait.

Birch held him still with his spare hand on Henry's bottom, fingers almost hooked into his crack, and it was hard to tell if it was just practical or because he wanted to warn where else the paste could go. Henry hadn't been able to stop dwelling on the idea of sexual discipline since Birch had threatened to turn Henry's unthinking insult back against him that first thrashing.

What Marshall had called a brat crush.

"Wait a little, Keen," Birch said. "That will start burning fiercely enough you'll wish I'd just spanked you. Legs a little wider, please."

Nothing good could come of that order, but Henry obeyed again. He was expecting more paste on his delicate inner thighs, but Birch dabbed a tiny amount up on his perineum instead. Henry jerked in surprise and found further depths of embarrassment to wallow in.

"Good boy," Birch said. "Let's give that some time to soak in, so it doesn't all rub off on your trousers. Stay exactly like this until I say otherwise."

Lamb whistled low as Birch went to toss the capsicum tainted glove. "So you went straight from Marshall to Birch, huh?"

"It's not like that." Henry glared at him. "We haven't negotiated for...

Except they sort of had. Not in anywhere near as much detail as he had with Marshall, but Birch had printed off a copy of Henry's official kink list and told him to put a cross by any that would be suitable for use as punishment. With the threat that if he lied to get something he enjoyed, Birch would keep doing it until the enjoyment stopped. And maybe Henry had indicated a couple that crossed the line.

Like chastity or figging. And a little capsicum there was a step down from a lot of ginger elsewhere.

He could feel the paste drying on his skin and he was pretty sure the faint tingling was his imagination, but all too soon it wouldn't be

"We're not dating," Henry snapped. "Just because you jumped his bones the first time you met doesn't mean everyone wants to."

"Does it hurt?" Sadie asked, curiously.

"Not yet, but it will," Lamb provided. "Think stinging nettle rash." He watched Henry, obviously considering something. "He's got you whipped, though, Keen. What's the magic trick?"

Birch came back before Henry could tell Lamb to shut up or whatever other witty retort he hadn't quite come up with yet.

"Whipping. Keen needs it harder than he'd been getting," Birch said smugly. "It being discipline, of course. It's a shame he never attended Beaton, a cane would really meet him on the right level."

Flick deposited a clingy Joshua back on his chair. "Tricia did mention he was unusually obedient after a strapping, even if he talked his way into more. I wouldn't have assumed he always needed it that hard though." He rested a hand on Henry's shoulder. "Bearing in mind I'll probably deck Birch in the face if I think he's abusing you, how do you feel about this mentorship, Henry?"

Sadie gasped in horror. "Sir, you can't!"

"There would be severe consequences," Flick agreed calmly. "I'm afraid I'm very willing to take a public caning in exchange for warning you away from my kids, Birch."

"It's fucking fine!" Henry snapped, twisting his shoulder out from under Flick's hand. "Birch is right. I need harsh." Let them all know, why not? "Only time I've ever felt really properly settled is after a caning or pointering or switching or what the fuck ever other words for being hit with a mean stick there are."

Birch laid his hand on Henry's other shoulder. "He's thriving, Friedwald. Stay in your soft lane."

Flick straightened his spine, looming over them both. Henry's arse clenched instinctively.

"I think you and me need to have a conversation, Brandon," Flick told Birch. "The sort of conversation where you go bend over the back of the sofa and I take a nice thuddy paddle to your bare backside. See, you seem a little confused about the hierarchy here. This is my house and these are my kids and your snide comments and insinuations that I can't take care of them are rude. If you're going to be riding Henry about his manners, you should learn some of your own. I'm very happy to teach you."

Henry came to the alarming realisation that his dorm mentor was capable of being hot. As he peeked up, he was pretty sure Birch and Lamb were rapidly going through the five stages of grief about the same topic. Sadie was watching with the same expression she got in class, Joshua had had that realisation ages ago and Albert was tracing the woodgrain on the table in apparent deep fascination.

Birch's smirk didn't have as much smugness as usual. "You're welcome to try, Friedwald, but when it comes to Keen, I do outrank you. Disciplinary Mentors have final say over their charges. I could order him to move out of this dorm and into mine and Dom's apartment tonight and you couldn't do a thing to stop me."

Flick took hold of Birch's arm and marched him across the common room with the inevitability of the Grim Reaper. "Lamb, would you fetch the widest paddle hanging in my office, please?"

Henry would've fetched it just as eagerly, but he guessed he was still in bent over bare bottom time out. His favourite.

"Take off your blazer," Flick ordered.

Birch looked a little confused, but obeyed, laying it over the back of the sofa. He'd taken off his shoes at the door, a rule Flick always responded to the breaking of with, in Henry's opinion, excessive force. That whooping great TIDY UP spatula should be burned.

And, yeah, he was a hypocrite because he was looking forward to another session with Birch's pointer. They'd decided on weekly to give his arse time to heal, unless he earned another punishment. Sort of really hard maintenance, with the number being decided by Birch's rude comment counter.

Henry would've been happy with it being plain maintenance, no excuse required, until Birch had explained the purpose was to limit him. Without a set number going in, Birch would have to aim for breaking point and he'd assured Henry he didn't want breaking with a cane every time. That was for special occasions, like severe fuck ups and Christmas.

Henry wasn't sure if the latter had been a joke.

Birch stood by the sofa in his silly little sweater vest, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt sleeves. "I'll indulge your tantrum, Friedwald, but it won't change anything."

Flick yanked him closer by the button on the front of his trousers and started slowly undoing it. He didn't say anything.

"I can, —" Birch reached down to try to stop him.

"Hands off, Brandon. I've seen a hard cock before."

Sadie giggled and Joshua gasped. Henry would've bet on them responding the other way around. He also felt so embarrassed he sort of wished he could, like, faint on command or something.

There was a light smacking sound and Birch whined. "You can't..."

"It's a perfectly natural reaction for a Bottom when a Top puts him in his place, Brandon. I'm sure you've ignored your share of uncontrollable responses and reassured them it's not shameful. I expect it'll go away after a dose of the paddle." Flick stripped Birch, angling him to face the sofa so the watching first years could only see his bottom. "You've been gently coaxing me to do something like this since the start of the year, Brandon. You can't be surprised that I'm calling your bluff."

Lamb emerged from the study carrying the requested implement. It was the largest, a proper heavy frat paddle. Henry had snuck in there to take it down once while Flick was out and been horrified by its weight. He'd needed both hands to lift it and almost hadn't been able to get it back on the wall at all. Only the fear he'd feel it across his backside if Flick found out he'd been snooping had given him the adrenaline burst to raise it high enough.

Flick took it one handed and casually adjusted his grip to make sure he'd be swinging it completely flat. "Bend over, Brandon. I intend for this to be a lesson we don't need to repeat."

Birch squared his shoulders and bent down, form perfect in a way he'd been trying to teach Henry. It set his bottom precisely at the apex of the sofa, hips flush against it so there would be no crushing of sensitive parts when the force knocked him forward. His legs were relaxed and almost exactly shoulder width apart, giving him a stability that he could maintain with little effort.

Flick handed the paddle back to Lamb for a moment, then took hold of Birch's hips, lifting him up and forward, so his feet left the floor and his head tipped down towards the seat. He was tall, so his forearms had to rest at the very edge of the sofa, his body making a triangle with the seat and back.

"Sir!" Birch spluttered, kicking his toes against the back of the sofa. "Let me down!"

"No." Flick patted Birch's now very exposed sit spots. "Brats don't get to choose how they get their spankings. That's only for good boys who ask instead of earn."

The burning was starting in Henry's own sit spots, making him shift miserably, like he could shake the capsicum off.

When he next paid attention, the frat paddle was back in Flick's hand and looming ominously over Birch, making his bottom look very small in comparison.

"Anything to say before we start, Brandon?" Flick asked. "An apology would go a long way towards making me feel merciful."

Birch took a deep breath. "Nothing at all, sir. I stand by my statements."

The crack of the paddle was Flick's only response.

Henry winced at every stroke, the steadily increasingly burning cream making him feel almost like he was the one receiving. Birch took it better, though his arse was quickly painted scarlet. The heavy wood paddle just kept going up and down. Those still sat squirmed sympathetically.

Birch stayed quiet, only a few soft gasps and the kicking of his feet against the back of the sofa giving away his discomfort. He was a very deep, scalded looking, red when Flick finally lowered the paddle.

"Ready to apologise, Brandon?"

There was the strain of effort, but Birch responded with his usual dry tone. "I'm sincerely sorry if anything I said may have inadvertently upset you, Friedwald."

Henry wanted to smack Birch himself for that response. It was a textbook non-apology. The sort of thing they were taught not to accept as one.

"Spread your legs, Brandon," Flick ordered.

"If you want to bugger me, ask nicely," Birch retorted, but opened them wide anyway.

Flick smacked his hand against Birch's inner thigh, flicking his wrist to get as much sting as possible given the minimal space to swing through. "If you want me to fuck you, ask nicely," he countered. "Acting like a brat is just going to get you a sore bottom of the kind you don't enjoy."

Birch kicked his legs more and Flick grabbed an ankle to hold the side he was working on immobile.

"One little sorry without the passive aggression, Brandon, and we can finish here. Otherwise, I'm going to send Lamb for a spatula. There's plenty of space left for more, little brat, all down the back of your thighs, right up in the crease of your sit spots and between your cheeks. And then I can always band around to the front of your thighs or get a flogger for your upper back. Which do you think will run out first, spankable skin or your resistance?"

"Siiiiiiir!" Birch whined, as Flick switched sides to even up the redness of his inner thighs.

"Was that the start of an apology, Brandy?"

"Yes! Sorry! I'm sorry, sir!" Birch sounded frustrated at himself for caving, but it was good enough for Flick.

"Fridge arnica, Lamb," Flick ordered and rubbed at the sting he'd just put down. "Good boy, Brandy. You just needed a little motivation, didn't you?"

Birch widened his legs and sighed softly at the gentle massaging away of the sting. "Yes, sir. Next time can it be motivation with a yardstick or pointer, though?"

"Hm, I don't think that would send the right message," Flick said, "but if you can get through an entire evening without saying anything too bitchy, I'll let you have it as a reward. How about that?"

"Yes, please, sir," Birch said, sounding almost shy suddenly.

Flick helped him to his feet and pulled the slightly shorter and much slenderer boy into a bear hug. "You took your punishment, Brandy, all forgiven. Now, are you okay with me putting on the cream?"

"Yes, please, sir," he repeated, with the same shy enthusiasm.

Lamb handed over the arnica. "Uh, sirs, Keen's still ..."

"Bottom up is good for him," Flick said casually. "I doubt he'd have resisted commenting this long without his bum being so very ready for a spanking."

Henry pressed his forehead to the table, unable to keep looking at Birch's bright red bottom. That could so easily be him.

There was a little gasp, then Birch whined, "Siiiiiiir! Cold!"

"It does suit him," Lamb agreed.

"Suit you better, Lamb," Henry called, self-preservation evaporating in favour of annoying his — whatever. His whatever. "How about it? A nice, hard paddling with that monster might keep you from going out yet again tonight looking for one."

Not that Lamb had been doing much going out since Indira had started destroying his arse. She gave him weekends off. To recover. She was absolutely the scariest Top Henry had encountered and he was beyond grateful that she'd never been the one to punish him.

"That sounded a lot like consent by suggestion, Keen," Lamb returned.

Henry was still in the introductory classes, going over the absolute basics in preparation to try again at his basic licence, even if it would be suspended for at least two more months regardless of a pass, so that was a new concept, but he could guess from context. Like what Birch had said about brats using insults and suggestions for what could happen to other people to say what they wanted themselves. Which Henry couldn't say with certainty he wasn't doing.

"Is that right, Henry?" Flick asked, now rubbing the arnica into the reddest part of Birch's cheeks. "Would you like your maintenance this evening with my paddle or Birch's pointer?"

It was a very loaded question, given Flick had just spanked Birch to establish he still had dominance over Henry.

"He has a hell of an arm," Birch warned him, sounding more admiring than unhappy. "But I expect you're familiar with that, even if he hasn't been going as hard as you need."

The thing was that the DM situation was temporary. Henry would be up for review after his two month licence suspension was over and if Birch's report was good he could be set free with Tricia as his mentor. And she could definitely match Henry's requirements, but he was still, hopefully, going to be living with Flick. So, checking he could do it too made sense.

"Paddle, please, sir," Henry asked. "May as well go with the easy option."

Flick gave him a fond smile, the kind he usually reserved for Joshua's bratty antics. "Don't worry, little boy. I'll make sure your bottom is scorching, just the way you like it. And then I'll tuck you into bed with a fresh layer of capsicum and arnica cream to really make sure you're warm enough."

Henry continued to be baffled by everyone's insistence that Flick was a soft Top.

Chapter Text

Joshua smoothed down his shirt for the fiftieth time, like he didn't already know that Birch liked him disheveled. A crooked tie, untucked shirt and drooping socks made him look like he'd been up to something, apparently, even if it was as innocent as running so he wasn't late.

But this time he wanted to be nice and sheveled so Birch could make a mess of him himself.

Most of the others were out. Lamb and Sadie had families who'd shown up, Albert and Flick were being social until their families showed up later and Keen ...

Keen had given them all his shittiest attitude, slammed the door to his room and cranked his music up to earsplitting volume. Flick hadn't stopped him, just given him the leeway to get himself in proper trouble. Which he would.

Joshua had sent Flick a picture of the cheese and tomato sandwich and cut up apple dipped in peanut butter he'd put together for his own lunch and Keen had been the only one not to provide that sort of proof for the group chat. That was fine, he'd eaten at breakfast and Flick's rule was two meals minimum, but he was out that evening and if Keen failed to report again, he'd be going to bed with a full stomach and a sore rear.

He suspected the latter was just what Keen was after. If Joshua hadn't had one coming his way for fun already, he would probably be similarly moping and testing boundaries until they snapped back on his arse. Just somewhat quieter. A little mutiny to prove someone cared enough to put it down.

His mum wasn't coming. Not a single message to acknowledge it even was Family Weekend. Which was fine by him, he didn't want to spend a second more than necessary pretending to be Jessica.

The music continued to wail, so Joshua almost missed the doorbell ringing. One last check that his shirt was securely tucked and he hurried to answer it.

It wasn't Birch.

The two men examined him with a terrifying intensity. They were tall, or at least taller than him, which most guys were, and felt like teachers. Maybe ones that taught Tops to be scary and brats gave a wide berth when they walked through campus.

"Is Darius here?" one of them asked. He had an accent Joshua couldn't place, a sprinkling of grey in his hair and beard and a black leather jacket that accented his wide shoulders. His hands seemed impossibly large.

Darius? Did Joshua know a Darius? He wasn't sure he could've got his own name right in that moment. "D-Dare Tafani? Not here, but I could ... Um ..." What was the word?

"Call him?" the other one suggested in a slightly more gentle tone. His trousers were black leather, but he'd softened the effect by pairing them with a pitch black suit jacket and blood red shirt. It still wasn't very soft. "Stop scaring the boy, Vitte."

'Vitte' adjusted his shoulders in a way that really drew attention to the outline of his muscles. "If I was trying to be scary, I could stop. May we come in?"

Joshua stepped back, grateful to get his bottom against the door as they passed. He took a deep shaky breath as they went to the sofas to sit down. His knees felt weak, like all his instincts were screaming at him that he should kneel. None of the student Tops he'd met could come close to that level of casual dominance.

He closed the door after a moment, then walked over, staying on his feet with his hands twisted behind his back. "Sorry about the noise, sirs. I can ask him to turn it down, but ..."

"Top?" Vitte guessed. "Or brat who needs someone a little more ..." He gave Joshua an appraising look. "Firm."

Joshua trembled. What would it take to get them to be firm with him? "Keen's both, sir," he managed. "Oh, uh, I'm Joshua. Tatham. Bottom." Like they couldn't clock that from his everything.

"Damiano and Vittore," the one who had to be Damiano said. "And you won't be able to hear a phone call over it. Carissimo, you may."

It was obvious what he'd just given Vittore permission to do as the man shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him in a crisp button-up that made Joshua's best attempt at neatness feel sloppy. He took a step backwards as Vittore undid his cufflinks.

Vittore gave him an almost smile. "You are being a good boy, do not fear." He strode across the dorm and rapped sharply on Keen's door while Joshua swayed slightly with the force of that mild praise.

"Sit down, Joshua," Damiano suggested.

There was no hope of resisting. Joshua folded right where he was, sinking to his knees on the floor.

Damiano smiled down at him. "Oh, you are going to be lethal one day, little boy."

It sounded like a compliment, but Joshua didn't understand it. What was dangerous about folding completely when met with overwhelming dominance?

"Fuck off!" Keen yelled through the door.

Now that was dangerous.

"Would you turn the music down, please?" Vittore called back, sounding incredibly reasonable.

A pause, then the music was turned up and Keen opened the door. "Who the hell are you?"

"The person telling you that you are being rude to your dormmates and guests," Vittore said, casually starting to roll up one sleeve.

Joshua's stomach flipped completely over. He couldn't take his eyes off the slowly revealed arm.

Keen's eyes dropped to it too, but it seemed to inspire a whole different reaction. "And? Go somewhere else. I don't fucking know you, so you're not my guests."

"Three choices," Vittore said, moving on to his other sleeve. "The music is turned down. You safeword and I walk away. I give you the spanking you are asking for."

"Oh. No. I'm so scared," Keen deadpanned. "I lean harder than you can hit, old man. I won't bother getting out of bed for less than my Disciplinary Mentor's pointer." There was tension in every line of his body and a hopefulness behind the defiance.

Vittore folded his sleeve up one last time, then unbuckled his belt. "That is a challenge I can meet, boy. Go bend over the back of the sofa." He drew his belt through its loops with an ominous hiss.

Keen eyed it with a little of the worry he should have been feeling all along. "I'll just ..."

"One."

He bolted, practically running across the room to the sofas. Keen glared at Joshua and looked suspiciously at Damiano, but bent over before Vittore could get to two.

There was a pause, then the music was switched off completely. Vittore left the door to Keen's room open as he walked slowly back to join them. His footsteps were clearly audible in the ringing silence and Keen and Joshua both flinched at each one.

"Have you been spanked recently?" Vittore asked. "Any lingering soreness or bruising?"

Keen shrugged. "You're going to check anyway, right?"

Vittore folded his belt in half, creating a controllable strap and making sure there was no way the buckle could land. "I was not, but if you wish me to, ask."

There was a pause. "Fucking do it then!"

Keen's trousers were down a moment later, followed by his underwear. From the floor Joshua couldn't see, but he knew yesterday was a maintenance day, so likely ...

"That would be a yes on bruising," Vittore reported. "And yet you are wanting for more?"

"Dunno," Keen said, slumping miserably. "Might make me feel better."

"It might. Or it might make you feel worse because this is an excessive implement for your behaviour." Vittore raised the belt. "Is this what you really need?"

"I need you to shut up and get on with it if you're gonna!" Keen screwed his eyes shut.

The belt descended and Keen howled, trying to shove himself up off the sofa. Vittore let him and before he was fully upright, Keen collapsed again, putting himself back into position without as much as a word from the Top.

"Does this feel better?" Vittore asked. "Or worse?" He swung again, the belt blurring all the way down to Keen's sit spots.

"I don't know!" Keen yelled. "I don't..."

The third stroke, hard across the same spot, made Keen jerk wildly, then he slumped, bursting into angry, noisy tears.

Vittore put his belt aside. "There we are. Let it out." He pulled Keen to standing and wrapped his arms around him, letting the boy sob into his chest. "Now, do you want to tell me why you are lashing out or do you just want a hug?"

"Don't want a hug," Keen grumbled, despite the fact he was clinging tightly to the man. "Want a beating."

"Mhm," Vittore agreed and guided Keen around the sofa to sit down and perched the boy on his knee. "So, you are punishing yourself for something and think you can use me to do it. What would I really be spanking you for?"

Keen lunged, slamming his body against Vittore's chest and curling up as small as he could. His bottom tipped up, like he was making sure there was access to it, and Joshua winced at the thick red stripes overlaying the remnants of the paddling he'd chosen instead of the usual pointer.

Vittore's hand blocked his view a moment later, settling over the sore skin like a promise. "That they have chosen not to come is not your fault, lupo."

Damiano shifted for the first time, clearing his throat quietly.

For some reason, that got him a glare from Vittore, but he kept talking to Keen. "Here, if you howl loud enough, someone will come. And you may get a sore bottom for making so much noise, but you will be held afterwards. I know your dorm prefect, he needs only a whisper to know you need looking after. He will teach you that you do not need the pain to exchange for the comfort, if you let him."

"How'd you know?" Keen asked, voice rough. "I didn't say ..."

"Why else would you be miserable and alone today?" Vittore asked. He patted Keen's bottom, making him hiss. "You are far from the only one. It might be seeming as if everyone is with family, but that is because those who aren't are hiding away in their rooms with their very loud musics."

Damiano spoke suddenly. "Joshua, would you make that call, please? I would like to see the brat with abandonment issues we came for."

Keen tried to pull away from Vittore. "Sorry, I'm wasting your ..."

That got him a full force smack. "Stay right there, little brat. Unlike Darius, Flick answers my calls and he will drop everything if I say I have one of his boys with a sore bottom and a need for a cuddle."

Trembling and unable to move from his knees, Joshua quickly found Dare's number and dialed. It rang a couple of times before he picked up. He spoke in an urgent whisper, "Darius, there are two really intense doms here asking for you. Like, seriously daddy. Silver hair, suits, scary confident. One of them called me a good boy and I'm not sure I'm going to survive! What did you dooo?"

A beat of silence, then with complete confidence, Dare responded. "I was born."

The click of the call disconnecting happened a beat later, long before Joshua had formulated a response.

"You're Dare's parents?" Joshua squeaked, regretting his choice to describe them as daddy. "I thought he was just in trouble!"

Keen snorted. "Well, that explains so fucking much about him."

Damiano shared an amused look with Vittore. "Does our son often have much older men looking for him with the intent to tan his backside?"

"I wouldn't say often ..." Joshua said quickly.

"A few teachers, yeah," Keen contradicted him. "Less since he started hanging out with the row team. Apparently, he's got a Top who can actually fulfill a disciplinary slip to specification now." He grumbled wordlessly a little, then, "Not that Flick's ever had any trouble thrashing me hard enough. Prick."

Joshua winced at the strength behind the handful of snacks Vittore immediately laid down.

"You say you need at least a pointer and then you say Flick spanks too hard?" Vittore asked with soft amusement. "Both cannot be true, lupo."

"Don't fucking call me that, whatever it means," Keen snapped.

"It means wolf, because you howl so loud," Vittore told him, rubbing his red bottom in obvious warning. "But if you do not like it, I won't use it."

Keen squirmed. "Don't hate it. Just weird. Don't even know your name and this ..."

"Vittore Tafani," he was told plainly.

Damiano leaned forward. "My husband has a soft spot for brats with daddy issues. And then it is up to me to break the news that he must give you back." He extracted his phone from his pocket and dialed quickly. "Nicholas, I'm at your dorm waiting for Darius. One of your boys talked himself into a sore bottom from Vitte ... Yes, that one ... No, Joshua has been very well behaved ... Yes, he does ... You may need a crowbar to get him out of Vittore's lap."

The doorbell rang again and Joshua popped up to his feet. "That'll be for me!"

Dare or Flick would've just unlocked the door themselves.

"Tell Birch I got strapped so he can fuck right off," Keen called after Joshua as he opened the door.

Birch raised an eyebrow and peered past Joshua at the three men on the sofas. "Tell me yourself, Keen, and I'll tell you that telling me to fuck right off is adding two to your count for next Friday."

Keen tugged his hands free so he could give Birch the double bird, then whined when Vittore smacked him for it.

There was a pause as Birch looked between Damiano and Vittore with a calculating expression. "And what did you do to get yourself strapped by these fine gentlemen, Keen?" He walked into the dorm to offer his hand for each of Dare's parents to shake. "Pleasure to meet you, sirs. Brandon Birch, Keen's Discipline Mentor. And Joshua's Top, but I'd be surprised if he gave you any trouble."

What was that supposed to mean? Joshua was a Brat. He could've caused just as much trouble as Keen, if he hadn't been saving his arse for Birch's attention.

Damiano grinned. "I can tell Flick not to come if you are available to take over with Keen? I don't think this little brat should be left alone after that smacking and Darius ..."

"No!" It burst out of Joshua without any forethought. "You smacked him, you look after him! He's not the centre of the fucking universe! Just because he's having a sulk about his parents not coming when that's what he chose, doesn't mean we all need to gather round and fuss over him!"

"Joshua," Birch said, low and warning in a way he'd never been with him. Only Keen. He turned to Damiano. "I'm afraid I have a prior commitment with a boy who's angling for our planned scene to become a punishment. Your request puts me in a very difficult situation. Whichever I choose, the other will feel abandoned. Keen has an alternative, who you can hand him over to with the smug satisfaction that he will be well cared for, since you cannot be bothered to do it yourself. Joshua does not."

Damiano's grin had vanished. He blinked very slowly. "I apologise for prioritising the boy in distress, Brandon Birch, Disciplinary Mentor. Of course you must choose your date."

Birch's spine straightened the same way it had when he'd faced up to Flick last night. And Joshua had seen how that ended for him. Against a Top, Birch fought bratty. Even if he had a point, it was undermined by his attitude.

Joshua hurried to his side and slipped a hand into his. "Sir?" He addressed Damiano. "If I didn't have Birch today, I'd be in my room, competing with Keen to have the loudest music. And he's been hogging all the available attention recently."

"Don't fucking want it," Keen snapped. "Wish you'd all leave me alone."

"No, you don't." Joshua met his eyes over Vittore's shoulder. "You want to be looked after. It just isn't Birch or Flick or Tricia you want doing it. Or even your parents. And until you get your shit together enough to ask for forgiveness, you're going to be throwing yourself over whatever lap is available and getting pissy when it doesn't feel like him."

Henry went very still. "Don't you fucking —"

Vittore clapped his bottom. Twice. "I am happy to take care of any brat I punish, lupo." He gave Damiano a hooded look. "And you are unhappy about me neglecting my date to do so. If you are going to take me over your knee for that, you cannot take the Birch boy to there for the opposite."

Joshua stared. Vittore was the Bottom? Or, well, Switch. No way he was purely submissive after that display with Henry.

They were saved from further argument by Flick's arrival. He was breathing heavily, as though he'd run across campus to get there. Knowing him, he had.

Ignoring everyone else, he went to Henry, crouching down in front of the sofa and gently pressing his fingers along one of the belt stripes. "Oh, kid. I'm sorry."

"Why?" Henry grumbled, but he didn't flinch away. "You didn't do it."

Flick looked up at Vittore. "Mr Tafani? May I?"

Vittore hoisted Henry and handed him over. "Vittore, Nicholas. You have been seeing my son long enough for a smaller formality."

"Yes, sir." Flick stood up, carrying Henry as though he weighed nothing.

Henry flung his arms around Flick's neck and hid his face against his chest.

Vittore shook his head. "I should be calling you that. A good Top shows all respect to his implement supplier."

Flick's eyes widened. "I haven't —"

"You will," Damiano told him. "A couple of our paddles wore out recently and we were thinking you might appreciate the opportunity to go professional. A recommendation from Tafani and Rossi Taming would be a strong start."

"I ... Yeah ... I can't think about that right now," Flick apologised. He cradled Henry more tightly.

Joshua was certain that if Dare walked in at that moment and offered Flick whatever sort of sex they had, Flick would say the same thing. He didn't know how to feel about it. Had Birch prioritised his own pleasure or had he chosen Joshua? Or was it as simple as thinking Flick would do a better job or that the person who punished should take responsibility for aftercare?

"To answer your question," Flick said to the brat bundled in his arms, "I'm sorry the punishment I gave you yesterday wasn't enough and that I left you alone today."

Henry made a soft noise and Joshua realised he was crying. "Told you to fuck off," Henry mumbled.

"And it was my mistake to do so, kid. You needed someone to show up for you today. Consider yourself on a very short leash until there aren't any parents around you can talk into taking a belt to your poor little bottom." Flick pointedly rubbed Henry's 'poor little bottom'. "Now, let's get you down for a nap with some soothing cream and a belated lunch, hm?"

Birch tugged gently on Joshua's hand. "Come on, sunshine. Amusing as it could be to see Dare crash into his parents, I have some promises to keep." He leaned in close to kiss Joshua's cheek. "Painful promises involving your poor ... little ... bottom."

Joshua shivered slightly. Last time had left him aching so so good. Putting himself in that position had been the most vulnerable he'd ever felt, but Birch had looked after him. Only making it hurt in ways he liked.

"Behave, Keen," Birch said, raising his voice. "Or you'll be next bent over my desk. I do love keeping a wriggling bottom there with a nice set of stripes." He smirked at Flick. "Or being that wriggling bottom."

Flick raised an eyebrow. "You haven't been nearly good enough for that, Brandy. Take care of Joshua or we'll be revisiting that lesson with my paddle."

Birch winced. "No, thank you, sir. I can still feel the last one."

Joshua turned to face Birch and cheekily swatted him with his free hand. "Move faster!"

His stomach flipped at the Look Birch gave him. "That's one warning, sunshine. You'll find out exactly what that means later."

Scary should not feel so good.

Chapter Text

The glee in Lamb's expression when he spotted Sadie and her family through the crowd had her turning and pushing her parents in the opposite direction. Things were weird enough with his parents potentially hitting on hers. Besides he'd lift his eyebrows and smirk and open his mouth to say something about their choice of names and Sadie would have to spank him. Since she'd threatened Keen with the same.

"Sadie?" her mum asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no! I just saw, uh ..." Sadie recognised a face and altered her trajectory slightly to intercept. "Hi, Heidi!"

"Burns!" Heidi said, with her usual perky enthusiasm. "I was just thinking that if I didn't get an update soon, I'd have to come over to Flick's with a hairbrush."

Sadie cringed.

"A hairbrush?" Tanya asked, scrunching her face in confusion. "Why would she need ... Oh. Um. Wow."

Tanya was nearly two years younger, but would be a first year university student next October. Sadie had a September birthday, so when Tanya had been born two Junes later that twenty one month difference translated to only one academic year. She was smarter and luckier with her teachers than Sadie, so she'd have her pick of universities. No need to scrabble for a place anywhere at the last minute. Sadie looked forward to visiting her sister. Seeing a non-lifestyle campus would feel cool and exotic after the month and a half she'd had.

Heidi's wide grin remained, testing precisely how accepting of their daughter's choice the Burnses were going to be.

Sadie's dad recovered first, politely holding out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you. Dale Burns, my wife, Deidre, and Sadie's sister, Tanya."

She took his hand and shook it. "Heidi Sitwell, we met briefly during move in. I was Sadie's dorm prefect until she abandoned ship for Flick's."

"Flick?" Deidre Burns said dubiously. "Is that a, uh, nickname or surname?"

"Nickname, she should be around here somewhere," Sadie lied quickly.

Heidi raised an eyebrow and almost casually patted her blazer pocket. Where she kept that hairbrush she'd mentioned.

Sadie frowned like she'd just caught up with her own words. "He, I meant to say. It's sort of short for Nicholas Friedwald. Sorry, I'm a bit overwhelmed, can we try and find somewhere to talk without needing to yell?"

Her mum put an arm around her shoulders. "Of course, whatever you need."

Which was when she descended.

"Sitwell!" Mrs Tatham screeched. "Where is Jessica?! She's not answering my calls! And that app has been playing up since she got here!"

Heidi looked to Sadie for help. Unfortunately, Sadie actually did know where he was.

And it would be best if he was the main point of contact with his mother, just in case someone said Tatham? Do you mean Joshua? and they had to deal with the fallout of him being outed before he was ready.

"I'm good friends with Jessica, ma'am," Sadie said, the name tasting awful in her mouth. She'd never referred to him by it before. She wasn't sure any of the others even knew it.

Feeling guilty, she checked TATL, Flick had given her babysitter Top privileges on his brats, and confirmed what she'd known. Joshua was in the lifestyle building and, therefore, scening with Birch. As they'd planned, since Mrs Tatham hadn't bothered to inform them she was coming.

Sadie sent an APBB alert on him, making sure Birch was included in the 'search party'.

Mrs Tatham snatched the phone from Sadie's hand and stared at it intently. "Why is this working for you!"

"Excuse me," Sadie's mum said, as sharp as any Top. "But, please, return my daughter's property. At once."

To Sadie's shock, Mrs Tatham smiled and nodded, before handing it back with a quiet apology. The apology was directed entirely to Deidre, but small victories.

"Well?" Mrs Tatham asked Sadie. "Lead me to wherever my daughter is. Now, girl!"

Tanya giggled quietly.

Heidi was next to her in a flash, as Mrs Tatham turned, adding a giggle of her own.

"Miss Sitwell," Mrs Tatham snapped. "Turn around at once!"

With a quick wink at Tanya, Heidi obediently turned and leaned forward slightly for a crack of the hairbrush Mrs Tatham whipped out of her handbag.

Which was when Lamb and his family descended onto the scene.

"Burnsy!" Lamb crowed, ruffling Sadie's hair. "Got your ping. Sure you weren't aiming to tattle on Keen? What's Joshua done to earn your wrath?"

"Forget the Joshua thing," Sadie said, praying he'd pick up on the nuance. "This is Jessica's mother, Mrs Tatham, and she'd like to know where her daughte is."

Lamb winced. "Why don't the parents get to know each other while we run this little errand?" he suggested. "Kirsty, didn't you want to catch up with Heidi too?"

Heidi gave Lamb's sister a nervous smile. Lamb had mentioned Kirsty had been Heidi's mentor when she'd been at Bratford. If there was anything Sadie had learned it was that there was always a toppier Top.

"Did I just see you getting swatted, Heid?" Kirsty asked, taking hold of her arm. "Running wild without me to keep you in check?"

"N-no, ma'am." Heidi bit her lip and allowed herself to be drawn away from the group. "I don't, uh, need a reminder ..."

"The fact you brought the idea up tells me you absolutely do, Heid," Kirsty said with amusement. "Let's find somewhere private and get you settled over my knee, hm? Too long since I got my hands on your little bottom."

Lamb's parents were just as take charge about it, suggesting that they all go to the Wurst Brat for a little sit down while the kids ran about finding their friend. As they left though, Tanya stayed.

"Why don't you stick with mum and dad?" Sadie suggested, as they headed towards the lifestyle building. "You're not old enough..."

Lamb nudged her. "Lifestyle building overall has a 16 rating," he said. "Some rooms are 18 plus, but we can avoid those. Tanya's just curious and, at her age, I was wielding a cane already."

Tanya's eyes went very wide at that pronouncement.

Mrs Tatham smiled widely at the girl. "Oh, wondering if it's for you, honey? A first reaction of wanting to know more usually means it is." She nodded firmly, like that was the final word on the subject.

Sadie took Tanya's hand and pulled her close, even as her sister rolled her eyes.

Lamb jerked his head in the direction of the lift. "You okay if we miss the stairs? I'm sore from yesterday's gauntlet and limping up those is a punishment too far. Shame you missed the show, Sadie, but I'm sure Indira will get paddle happy with you too, if you ask nicely."

She smacked the back of his thigh. "I'll get a little paddle happy if you don't stop saying things in front of my sister," Sadie hissed, but pressed the button for the lift anyway. She could sense Lamb pouting at her back, but kept her spine stiff.

Mrs Tatham made an approving noise. "Your boy seems like a handful, Miss Burns. How's, uh, how's Jessica getting along? Her result was a bit of a shock, you know. Such a sweet girl, I never guessed she'd be a brat. Caretaker was my guess or service submissive, though she's a slow learner."

Lamb scuffed the toe of his shoe against the floor of the elevator. "Thriving, ma'am. Got several Tops wrapped around hi-er little finger, including our dorm prefect. Knows just how to balance bratting with adorableness to keep it playful. I don't think Jo-essica has earned a serious punishment ever, though she likes a lightly toasted bottom."

Sadie sighed softly. Maybe she was just too used to vanilla conventions, but she'd have called that too much information.

"Oh, I am glad," Mrs Tatham said, with genuine relief. "Does she have a Top?"

"Depends on if you murder Birch, ma'am," Lamb said, as the lift doors opened and he led them down to the schoolroom corridor. "I don't think you were expected, so, uh, they sort of planned a scene for today."

Mrs Tatham raised her eyebrow. "Brandon Birch?"

Sadie and Lamb shared a Look.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Little Brandy Birch!" Mrs Tatham laughed. "Eliza's son. We were at Topford together you know, back when it was still split by gender. Honestly, that university isn't what it used to be. Letting Switches in was the beginning of the fall. Now they're talking about integrating it with Bottomford, robbing future generations of the experience of sneaking across the river to meet your lover knowing that you'd be in for a hard swishing if they noticed you missing. You knew you had a good thing going if you were willing to risk it! Make it too easy and, well, that's why the divorce rate is rising!"

Lamb leaned close to Sadie as Mrs Tatham continued her tirade on what was wrong with Tops These Days. "They integrated like two decades ago," he told her. "I guess no one dared tell her."

Tanya, unfortunately, was hanging on to every word, looking as dazed as Sadie had felt her first few days at Bratford.

Thankfully there weren't any students in red bottomed time out in the corridor this time, just Chalk chatting with Zoe and Naomi, Switches who were part of both Schoolroom and Mortarboard. Naomi, Sadie had been horrified to realise, had been the one Lamb had smacked that first day. She still couldn't meet her eye. The two girls caught the mood of the group and slipped away into a side room.

Chalk straightened his long black robes and approached their group with a smile. "Lamb, Burns, long time no see. If you're after Jo-"

"Jessica, yes!" Sadie said loudly. "This is her mother!" It made her feel a little sick every time she used the wrong name and pronouns, but Joshua had been clear that his mother did not know and was not permitted to.

Chalk narrowed his eyes at her, hand resting on the long cane he wore like a sword. "You'd better have a good reason for saying it like that, Burns," he warned. "You know how I feel about good manners."

"Yes, sir," Sadie said, much quieter. "Apologies, sir. I don't like interrupting their scene, sir, but ..."

He nodded and swept up the hallway to knock sharply on the 'headteacher's' office. The official code for 'stop immediately' was to rap out 'shave and a haircut' and a few weeks earlier some Schoolroom brats had been called up at a whole society meeting to be spanked for using that code and running away. Chalk and Birch had impressed the idea that it was equivalent to misusing any other safeword, but the brats had gotten off lightly. They wouldn't a second time.

So after that, it wasn't entirely a surprise when Birch swung the door open pointedly flexing a cane, while Joshua peeked out from behind him wearing only a too big set of Mortarboard robes and a smirk.

He'd been one of the brats spanked at the meeting and had whined for a full day about how sore he was from Birch's hairbrush. Or possibly he'd been bragging.

Joshua's eyes went wide in horror. "I didn't think ... Shit ... Just a moment!"

Birch snagged him by the back of his (Birch's) robe. "Joshua. Calm. You're covered, but if you don't explain I'm going to flip that hem and spank it out of you, little boy."

There was a grim silence.

"Joshua?" Mrs Tatham asked faintly.

"Red, Brandon, fucking red," Joshua snapped and pulled away to storm deeper into the office.

"What did I ...?" Birch looked horrified and guilty, even if he didn't know why he should.

"He's not out to his mum," Lamb said with a groan. "Wasn't out."

"Joshua Em—" Mrs Tatham began, then her voice abruptly calmed. "Do you have a new middle name?"

"No!" Joshua yelled back.

"Joshua Middle Name To Be Decided Tatham!" Mrs Tatham screeched. "Get your bottom out here now, boy!"

Birch moved aside so there wasn't any chance he'd brush against Joshua as the brat reappeared in the doorway, yanking his trousers on under the robe. 

"Mum?"

"I'm very disappointed, Joshua," she said, sternly. "Have I ever tolerated you lying to me?"

Joshua looked baffled. "Why are you calling me that?"

"It's your chosen name, isn't it? I simply think it's basic manners to inform a lady she has a son, rather than mislead her, don't you?"

He gulped. "I didn't know if ... You weren't this accepting about me being a brat!"

"Joshua, come here," Mrs Tatham said and, to make sure of it, stepped forward to take hold of his ear. She flipped up the back of his robe, pulled his trousers back down and landed a crisp smack to his already quite pink bottom. "I questioned that status because you'd never shown any signs of being a brat, Jes— Joshua!! Whereas you have always been a tomboy. It's quite logical that you'd drop the tom part! And this has made me quite certain you are a brat! How long have you been lying to me?"

He tried to twist out of her grip. "Mum! You can't! You don't!"

"If you'd ever seriously misbehaved, I would have," Mrs Tatham threatened. She smacked her son again. "How long?"

Lamb tapped her on the shoulder. "You might want to employ that hairbrush, ma'am. Joshua needs it a little harder than a hand before it's discipline."

"Oh, thank you for letting me know, Lamb," Mrs Tatham said, in an almost kind tone, dipping into her handbag for the brush. "Last chance, Joshua, or your friends are going to watch you get a full spanking."

"Couple of years," Joshua muttered. "Worked it out a couple of years ago. Didn't dare say anything ..."

The hairbrush swung down, making him grunt in pain. "What on Earth possessed you to think I wouldn't accept it?! I'm, what, third generation lifestyle? If you think you're the first trans person I've encountered ..." Mrs Tatham shook her head. 

"There was a kid at school, she came out and her parents..." Joshua choked up. "Y'know, it was on the news and all."

"I knew moving to a vanilla area was a mistake, perhaps if you'd grown up with sensible influences ..." Mrs Tatham sighed, patted her son's bottom and let go of the robe. "Well, at least you have Brandy to look after you now, honey."

Birch blinked rapidly. "Do we ... know each other, ma'am?"

"I haven't seen you since you were in nappies, but me and Eliza Quirt were university friends," Mrs Tatham told him. "Bridget Tatham, she might've mentioned me as Birdy? We chat on the phone occasionally."

He turned an alarmed puce. "Oh, hell. Uh, I bet she'd be happy to see you, ma'am." Even if he wasn't.

"Language, Brandy," Lamb scolded with a smirk, then squeaked as Chalk took hold of his elbow and pulled him closer so he could rest a threatening hand on his backside.

Mrs Tatham smiled in a way that made Sadie take a step back to stay out of the danger zone. "You and me should have a conversation about how you are definitely going to look after my little boy, Brandy. And I think your mothers are exactly the right people to be included in that chat." She patted her hairbrush against her opposite palm. "I don't think very much of young Tops who don't even try to defend their boys from trouble. Even if it is deserved."

Joshua hesitantly bent down to pull his trousers up yet again. Lamb moved as if he was going to swat him, because someone needed to, but Chalk's grip tightened on his elbow and bottom. Sadie carefully resisted the urge.

Birch closed his eyes briefly. "Yes, ma'am. I, um, I consent to you giving me that warning with that hairbrush. Joshua safed and I didn't want to intervene without him specifically requesting it, but I understand your perspective and will accept consequences for that too."

"He's very polite," Mrs Tatham said to Joshua. "Is he treating you like a gentleman should?"

Joshua blushed and shrugged.

"Oh, he's a complete gentleman," Lamb leered, making it sound like a recitation of the kama sutra.

Chalk swatted him hard enough that Lamb stumbled forward a step.

"This is my Top, Dominic Chalk," Birch said. "Perhaps he should come along, even if he and Joshua aren't directly involved, as he's my primary disciplinarian."

Mrs Tatham looked Chalk over a little disapprovingly. "You're a Switch, Birch?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hm."

With that damning review, Mrs Tatham swept the three boys off, presumably to find Quirt.

Lamb whistled. "Fucking hell, she sounds like my grandfather. All good old days and dynamics were more rigid back then and why haven't you found yourself a Top?"

"Why haven't you found yourself a Top?" Tanya asked, weirdly eagerly.

"Because I found myself like twenty," Lamb told her. "Group scenes with just me and multiple Tops are the best. All that attention ..."

"Lamb is not a good role model," Sadie sighed, beckoning them both to follow and hoping they could get back to her parents before the conversation went anywhere too weird. "Plenty of people are happy in monogamous Top/Bottom relationships."

"Yeah? Name one," Lamb challenged.

Sadie opened her mouth and realised she couldn't think of any. "Elly and Albert?"

"Elly is also in a Top/Top thing with Indira who has a few pets like Marshall and Sadie."

"Her pet is also named Sadie?" Tanya frowned. "Like a cat or something?"

"Pet as in submissive lover," Lamb helpfully explained. "And not also Sadie, just this one."

Sadie's face heated up with embarrassment. "I'm a Top, Lamb, I'm not ..."

"Indira exclusively tops Tops. It's why she turned me down." Lamb smirked. "And, yes, Tanya, I'd love to exchange numbers with you in case you have any other questions!"

Tanya went pink. "That guy, Joshua, he just...?"

"Got spanked on his bare bottom in front of everyone? Yeah."

"Is that, like, normal?"

"Lamb!" Sadie snapped in her best Top voice. "Stop corrupting my sister!"

He gave her a lazy smile. "Or what, Burns? You'll spank me?"

Sadie spluttered, unable to think of an alternative threat.

"Yeah, Tanya," Lamb said. "It's very normal. Even Sadie, a Top, got bent over right in front of the library for a bare bottomed spanking once. She cried and, naturally, that's when Indira fell for her."

Tanya chewed her bottom lip for a long moment. "If I applied to come here, would that happen to me?"

"Yes!" Sadie said, frustrated. "So, it's a good thing you're not coming here!"

"Maybe I want to," Tanya retorted. "You like it, why can't I like it too?"

"You can't know if you like it, you're too young."

Lamb snorted. "I told you, Sadie, at her age I had a year's worth of education at Beaton and Tops lining up to fu—"

Sadie slammed her hand over his mouth. "You are from — from a creepy family that taught you about kink as a freaking toddler! Stop perving on my sister!" She regretted saying it immediately and lowered her hand. "I mean ..."

He suddenly seemed a whole lot more threatening. His spine straightened, his expression went stern and he took half a step closer. "Sadie. What happened when Keen kinkshamed me?"

She swallowed. "I'm sorry?"

"Thank you, but that wasn't what I asked."

"Marshall ... Marshall took him out of the cafeteria."

"And what happened to him then?"

Sadie shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't see ..."

"You know, Sadie. You know full well that Marshall pulled Keen's pants down and gave his bottom a thorough spanking. Give me one reason why I shouldn't do the same to you for that outburst."

"Tanya's right here ..." Sadie gestured helplessly.

Lamb nodded. "Tanya, it's entirely up to you if you want to stay and watch or if you'd be more comfortable if we delayed this until you weren't around?" His hand dropped heavily onto Sadie's shoulder. "But, Sadie, I'm not letting that disrespect slide. My parents being in a dynamic relationship was never any more inappropriate than your parents continuing to have sex after you were born. And I'm being honest and open with a young woman who's expressing interest in the lifestyle. Would you rather I hid parts from her and she wandered into them without warning?"

"I'm okay," Tanya squeaked. "I want ... I mean I don't ... But ..."

Somehow, Lamb translated that. "You want to see what a genuine punishment looks like, but you're unhappy that Sadie's the one in trouble?"

Tanya nodded furiously. "Would you — um — if I was rude like that?"

"If you were rude like that, I'd think you weren't interested in the lifestyle after all and choose to avoid you rather than listen to that sort of abuse," Lamb told her. "But if you were a very little bit naughty — said a rude word or pinched my arm or stuck your tongue out — then, yes, I'd pop you over my knee for a taster spanking. But how about we get Sadie's big spanking out of the way before you make up your mind on if you want that?"

"I really am sorry, s— Lamb," Sadie said quietly, but didn't resist as he pulled her towards a nearby bench.

"You can call me sir, if it makes it easier, Sadie," he told her. "Believe me, I'm already finding it incredibly weird without adding that, but, well, you're the Top, what you say goes."

She almost laughed. "How mad are you? Really?"

He smiled. "Not mad, disappointed. Keen says shit like that and I know it's just misaimed internalised shame. And I'd be a lot happier if I could thrash whoever taught him to think that way. But you, Burns ... I know you're better than that. And the reason I'm forgiving you and giving you a punishment to seal it, is that you said it because you want to protect your sister." Lamb sat down, pulling Sadie to stand between his legs. "May I lower your trousers and underwear?"

She nodded, then winced, remembering her lessons on explicit consent. "Yes. And you can use my carry if you like?"

Lamb didn't comment on that offer, just undid her trousers for her and pulled them down as he tipped her over his knee. Then he tugged her knickers down to bunch just under the swell of her bottom. Sadie was surprised, those would protect her sit spots, but then the first smack fell and she was too grateful they'd be spared to want to draw attention. Lamb spanked hard, like he wanted to get the maximum effect from the minimum hits.

Rather than watch her sister watching her get her arse handed to her, Sadie stared at the bench, following a pattern in the wood grain until it vanished under Lamb's thigh.

"Does it hurt?" Tanya asked, when Sadie kicked instinctively as Lamb ran out of untouched skin and started layering.

"Y-yes," Sadie managed, trying to keep her voice steady, but Lamb smacked her just as she started speaking. "Ah! Yes, hurts."

"As it should," Lamb said sternly. "Rude mouths earn red bottoms." He paused, admiring his handiwork. "I am going to use your carry," he informed her, easily extracting the hairbrush from her right hand blazer pocket. "Tanya, students at Bratford, regardless of dynamic, are expected to carry a low level implement, just in case someone with authorisation wants to discipline them on the spot. Sadie, how many do you think you deserve with this?"

She shifted, trying not to seem like she was squirming. "I don't know? Like twenty?"

He laughed softly. "I was thinking more in the five to ten range, but if that's what you need to get over your guilt ...?"

A shrug. "If I'd said something like that to Indira or if Flick had overheard ..."

Lamb flinched underneath her. "Point. Suddenly your suggestion seems like the merciful option. Okay, you asked for it."

He made it quick. Administering five swats right on top of each other before moving to the next quarter of her backside for another set of five. Sadie kicked a little more and then, with a final swat, it was over.

"How are you feeling, Sadie?" Lamb asked gently, rubbing the sting away.

She winced as he massaged a sore spot a little too hard. "Ah! Okay? You went easy on me."

"Yeah. Bottom, remember," he said, but she suspected not terrifying Tanya had been more of a factor.

Sadie pushed herself off his lap and righted her clothes with a soft hiss. "Sore," she allowed.

"Sorry?"

"Yeah. I was there before you started, but I don't feel the need to go throw myself over Indira or Flick's knee either. Thanks."

Lamb rubbed her arm. "I'd say any time, but we both know I'd prefer it the other way around." He grinned past her at Tanya. "So, mini Burns, want to test me?"

Sadie stepped aside. "You owe me aftercare, Lamb. A debt I will only allow you to pay in the form of dorm movie night snuggles."

He opened his arms. "If you want more fussing, Sadie, you only had to ask."

She shook her head, pretending to pout. "Too late, gotta be movie night now."

"You just want an excuse to sit on me so I can't hog the popcorn!"

"Guilty." She grinned. "Really you should be thanking me, since I'll be saving you from Flick's wooden spoon across your knuckles."

Tanya cleared her throat loudly so they both looked at her, then very dramatically stuck her tongue out.

Lamb looked utterly delighted. "Brave choice, baby Burns. Come here."

With a wicked smirk, Tanya glanced down the corridor like she was considering making a run for it.

"Uh uh," Lamb said. "Run and I'll assume you don't really want it."

Eyes still dancing with mischief, but pouting, Tanya hurried to stand in front of him.

Sadie bit her lip to keep from laughing. Tanya hadn't changed. Anything Sadie had, she wanted. And apparently that stretched to a sore bottom.

"So," Lamb leaned back. "May I bend you over my knee and smack your bottom five times for being cheeky, Tanya?"

"You'd better! If you don't, I'll tell my parents you did."

"Very naughty," Lamb said approvingly. "But I don't take kindly to threats. That's another five."

Tanya giggled and let him pull her down over his knee. As she happily settled into position, Sadie realised, with horror, that her bratty baby sister was, in fact, a brat.

Chapter Text

Flick's parents were horrifically normal.

Not lifestyle, but completely accepting that their son was.

When Flick had told them that Henry didn't have anyone coming for Family Weekend, Emma Friedwald had hugged him. She was a tall woman and it was immediately obvious who had taught Flick to give such overwhelming cuddles. Henry had maybe cried a little, but it was just because he was getting squished and his arse hurt.

They had arrived pretty late in the day, after a couple hours of napping in Flick's arms after he'd cried himself out about Vittore giving him a strapping and a nickname and then another couple of hours still in Flick's arms as they watched dumb nature documentaries. Henry had provided sarcastic voices for some of the animals and Flick had laughed every time.

Properly. Not like he was forcing it to make Henry feel better.

It had been nice not to need to share Flick's attention with any of the others for a change.

That would get suffocating pretty quickly though.

Small doses only.

Emma and her husband, Gary, had immediately invaded the kitchen area and rebuffed every attempt Flick made to reclaim his territory. They had brought the ingredients to make enough food for a small army and were going to make it no matter Flick's opinion on the matter. He'd been shooed back to the sofa, Henry and the nature documentaries with strict orders to tell everyone and their families that they were welcome back at the dorm if they didn't have other dinner plans already.

Sadie and Lamb had been the only ones to reply, both accepting, and once they and their families had crowded into the common area, Henry was happy to fade into the background.

He ended up sharing the sofa with Lamb and Lamb's big sister, Kirsty, who were talking loudly about all the gossip from Bratford and the spanking cafe she ran near where they grew up. The idea was both horrifying and intriguing. Since he'd become one of Flick's first years, Henry was no stranger to being threatened into eating things he didn't want to, but he couldn't imagine choosing to go to a restaurant for the express purpose of being spanked into eating his vegetables by a paid stranger.

One sofa over, Sadie's little sister, Tanya, was leaning over the armrest to listen better to all the new ideas Lamb and Kirsty were treating as perfectly normal. Henry noticed Lamb steer the conversation away from too explicit sexual topics a couple of times, which was very weird for him. Usually Lamb was the one talking loudly about who and what he'd had in his hole recently.

He doubted it was because of Lamb's parents. Mr and Mrs Caused A Divorce were behaving themselves as they chatted with Sadie's parents, but there was an openness in how they mentioned the kink side of their lives that made Henry suspect that was where Lamb had learned it.

Flick was trying to sneak into the kitchen to get some washing up done, so there was no one to object when Henry decided to hide in his room. He knew he'd be pried out once food was cooked, but his mouth being full was a good excuse not to participate in their conversations. And every time any of them tried to include him, he felt the rudest possible response rising in his throat.

To his surprise and annoyance he found Sadie following him.

Henry turned around, leaning against his door in a hopefully casual way that protected his arse if she had an issue with him. "What?"

Sadie chewed her lip for a moment. "I was just wondering ... Could you maybe do me a favour?"

"Depends what it is and what you're willing to pay for it." Henry folded his arms.

Her mouth twitched as if she was fighting not to laugh. "Next time Flick brings cupcakes home, you can have mine? And I'd just appreciate it if you could have a word with Tanya."

"A word or a word?" Henry asked. He would be a very weird choice if Sadie thought her sister needed a spanking, but he couldn't imagine her trusting him to talk to Tanya either. Birch getting on his case hadn't entirely stamped out his rudeness overnight, though knowing he could expect that fucking pointer across his arse every Friday had reduced how rude he was when his DM was present.

"Talk to her," Sadie hissed. "Tell her how much you hate it here!"

"I don't hate it here," Henry said, without thinking.

She stared as though he'd just confessed to being an alien inhabiting the body of the now dead Henry Keen. Though actually that would probably make more sense to her than him suddenly changing his tune on Bratford.

"I don't like it here either, don't get me wrong," Henry added. "But this shit is what I need. I'm going to bitch and complain the whole way, but, yeah, a sore arse and people who aren't going to give up on me just because I'm difficult. Tanya's expressing interest in the lifestyle?"

Sadie nodded. "I think she could benefit from the perspective of someone whose parents didn't ..."

"Your parents did." Warning Tanya that her family wouldn't stick around if she chose this route didn't seem logical when they were right there, smiling politely at Lamb's parents.

"They accepted it for me. The daughter who failed enough tests that she couldn't get into the unis she wanted and was willing to put up with medieval corporal punishment to be a couple hours closer to home. And they know enough to know Top means giver. Easier for them to understand someone wanting power over other people, even if that's only a tiny part of it. But their precious baby girl? Who's on track to have her pick of unis and would absolutely be classified as a Bottom? Lamb spanked her and she responded like Joshua! All blushes and trying to angle for more."

That made sense. Henry had been the third son of four. His parents had wanted a girl, who'd never come along, but he could imagine them furiously defending her from ever getting to make her own choices.

"I'll talk to her," Henry said. "But keep your cupcake and I can't promise I'll warn her off. Just give her a less rosy perspective than the bullshit Lamb's feeding her."

Sadie hugged him. It was unexpected, but nice. After a moment, he hesitantly patted her back.

Sometimes he felt as though he was entirely constructed of sandpaper, every surface abrasive. Biting with his words, so no one got close enough to find that out. A tight embrace let him know he was soft flesh after all.

"Thank you," Sadie said, as she pulled back. She quickly wiped her eyes and Henry realised he'd made her cry.

"If you've got snot on my shirt, I'll change my mind about payment," he grumbled, confused when that made her smile.

Henry glanced around for Flick, now setting the table. They could just about squeeze in twelve plates, but they only had ten dining chairs.

"Burns, with me." Henry jerked his head towards Flick's study. Where they weren't allowed to go without a direct order.

Sadie raised an eyebrow, but followed.

Henry picked up one of the chairs from in front of Flick's desk and Sadie took the other.

Flick looked at them like they were lifesavers, as though it wasn't a fucking obvious choice. Then again, maybe they should've removed the ankle restraints from the legs first. But Henry hadn't even noticed those until Tricia had buckled him into them while he rewrote some of the 'good things about himself' essay.

Sadie was sent to find enough water glasses for everyone and Flick told Henry to fill a couple of jugs for the table so people wouldn't be up and down for refills.

"I've helped as much as I'm going to," Henry told him. "Say thank you."

"Henry." Flick straightened his spine, looking down at him with a tone and expression Henry associated with a sore bottom in his very near future.

He took a step backwards. "I'm sore, sir! I want to go lie on my front, but the sofas are taken and you'll get pissy if I go to my room."

Flick followed him and turned him to the side.

With a sigh, Henry leaned forward a little. Across the room he caught Tanya staring at him with very wide eyes. He winked.

Rather than swat him, Flick rested his hand on Henry's backside, as though he could judge its state by touch alone through two layers. "Thank you for bringing extra chairs. What colour would you say that argument was?"

Red for leave me alone, yellow for listen to me or green for make me.

Henry sighed again. "Green, sir."

He jolted forward at the force of the swat. It was harder than Flick usually went, balancing Henry deserving multiple with wanting to spank as little as possible in front of the vanillas.

Flick spoke quietly and with a definite undertone of amusement. "You can ask for my attention without making this little bottom pay for it, kid. I'll be keeping you on a short leash tomorrow and Monday too."

Henry straightened up and gave Tanya another wink. Normal classes had been rescheduled Monday, to make way for some introductory classes for visiting prospective students and vanilla parents who wanted to know how best to support their lifestyle kids. He'd be sick of Flick's company by the end of the long weekend, but until he reached that point, he'd be enjoying the attention.

"Yes, sir," he said. "But I wouldn't be seeking your attention if it didn't get me a sore bottom."

"Brat," Flick said fondly and ruffled his hair.

Sadie put the second of the requested water jugs on the table.

Henry informed her she was a suck up and got another swat that made the belt stripe across his sit spots very unhappy.

"Go get a cushion from the sofas," Flick ordered him. "If we didn't have company, I'd be sending you to get a punishment mat instead, but you wriggling with that pout is going to convince my parents I'm a monster." He said it lightly, no real worry. Lucky bastard.

"You are a monster," Henry informed him, then danced out of the way of a third swat. "You kill your bratty prey by constriction."

Flick caught him and lifted him into a hug as Henry kicked and protested, but he found himself laughing. He was carried all the way back to the sofas and set down on his feet next to them.

"Cushion." Flick gave him a last squeeze and whispered, "Love seeing you playful, kid. You can be such a sweet brat."

Henry's smile faded at the reminder that usually he wasn't sweet at all. He grabbed a cushion from directly behind Lamb.

"Bu— Behave," Lamb warned as Flick went back to try and help his parents against their direct orders.

"I was told fetch cushion," Henry said, leaning down to kiss Lamb's cheek. "You can't have one though, not until Indira lets up. I'm not risking her finding out and making me sit on a punishment mat until I'm as sore as you."

Lamb caught his arm and pulled him further down for a proper kiss. The kind that had Kirsty wolf whistling and Henry flipping her off.

"Brave choice," Kirsty said, laughing. "Don't think I've forgotten how to make a brat regret bratting at me, Keen. And I'm not fussed about shocking our vanilla visitors. You want your bare bottom smacked, I'll oblige."

Henry perched on the arm of the sofa next to Lamb. "Got a belting earlier. I'm good, thanks, ma'am."

"And a paddling last night," Lamb added. "Keen plays hard."

With a little smile, Henry wriggled against the arm of the sofa, making sure it dug into the sorest part of his undercurve. He gave Tanya a bratty smirk. "You can keep up with me, Ru. Such a good boy, when I order you to treat me rough."

Lamb looked up at him, mildly confused, but loving this more open attitude. He put his hand on Henry's thigh. "Planning any orders of the sort? Because they'll have to wait until bedtime."

Tanya leaned forward eagerly. "Are you all, like, gay here?"

Not the question Henry had expected, but it opened communication, so sure. "I'm pretty much exclusively gay, yeah, but, uh, Albert and Keller are straight, I think. Attraction has more to do with dynamic than gender here. I'm a Switch, so I might go for anyone, but Lamb here is a Bottom and only goes for Tops. And then there's some who'll go same dynamic anyway, like Sadie and Indira or Flick and Conway. Keller's into female Tops, despite being a Top himself, though. Safest not to assume anything."

Her eyes darted down to where he was sitting. "You just got spanked, how are you ...?"

"High pain tolerance," Henry told her. "And because I want Flick to know he didn't bother me. Especially because he did. That's the brat part. How do you feel what someone gives you an order? A teacher or your parents, for example."

Tanya shrugged. "I don't care. Like, why should they boss me around?"

"Textbook brat," he said, putting his hand over Lamb's. "You're interested. How interested?"

She bit her lip. Very similar to the way her sister did. "Well ... I wouldn't say no if Kirsty threatened me too. And I maybe put down Bratford as one of my uni choices. I started looking into it when Sadie got in and ... it feels right."

"My parents aren't here," Henry told her. "Choice between them and the lifestyle and I still don't know if I choose right. I went from being totally independent to all the stupid fucking rules they have here. I can't listen to my music too loud or eat when I want or go to bed late without getting a smacking for it. Being a brat isn't just about having that resistance, you need to have a little part of you that doesn't want to win."

Tanya's jaw set in a stubbornness Henry was very glad he wasn't going to be the one responsible for fighting. "I don't care what my parents think about it. They can accept it or get out of my way. And those are sensible rules. If I was stupid enough to break them, I'd deserve it."

With an attitude like that, Henry feared she'd thrive at Bratford. Possibly even as a Switch. He didn't think he'd like to meet her head on in either direction.

"I'll give you a list of books for further research," Henry told her. "Any of them you can't get hold of, get in contact and we'll get a copy to you. Even if we're smuggling it baked into a load of bread or whatever."

Enabling Tanya was so literally the opposite of what Sadie had wanted, but Henry was planning on giving her a good mix of boring, condescending and discipline focused. The sort of book Tricia was making him read as part of his tutoring that almost universally made him think about what the hell he'd gotten himself into. Lamb would know the interesting, engaging and fun focused books to go with them.

Henry didn't want to try and persuade her in any direction. He wanted to give her the information to make the decision on her own.

Would've been fucking brilliant if anyone had done the same for him.

Or Sadie.

Even Lamb had had his surprises about the actual experience of Bratford. All the differences to Beaton or the more prestigious universities Beaton assumed it was preparing him for.

Henry leaned into the pain in his sit spots even further. Maybe if he punished himself a little he could keep his thoughts away from the one person nothing could have prepared him for meeting. Someone who wanted him exactly as he was and he had pushed away for it.

Lamb kept almost slipping, but it wasn't his voice Henry wanted to be called bunny in.

Chapter Text

Lamb had his orders.

Same orders as the last week and a half.

Report to Indira for his second spanking of the day. And Friday evening would be one of the worst, based on his experience last week. Already sore from getting through two punishment slips a day since Monday, he'd now be expected to take one of the ones Indira believed he needed the weekend to fully recover from before she could continue the discipline next Monday.

Last Friday it had been twenty with one of her worse paddles. The solid oak with holes.

He didn't know what it was going to be this time and honestly didn't want to find out.

Optimism had been possible when he'd known he was about to see his mum and dad, but it was really sinking in that he was only halfway through. Assuming he didn't earn any more slips in the interim and, well, earlier in the day he had.

One from Drubber for being late to class because the lift had been out of order and he'd had to limp a miserable two flights of stairs with a bottom that had just had an unpleasant encounter with a leather slipper. Not to mention the cumulative effects of the other spankings. He might have gotten away with lateness if he'd apologised and explained, but instead he'd responded to the kindly, but firm, Bratting teacher's question of where he'd been with fucking your mum.

Not his proudest moment.

Honestly, Lamb thought Drubber had gone easy on him by just recommending five with an equivalent to the first year class paddle. A slight upgrade from the lighter late paddle he usually used, but he bet he could haggle Indira up to the switch he thought he deserved.

He'd wanted to take the punishment there and then too. Not have to add it to the stupid fucking backlog.

Lamb knew he only had himself to blame for that one. But if he kept earning new slips, he'd never reach the end. His bum would literally be sore until he graduated and he wouldn't put it past Indira to enlist any Top he met in the future to finish it off. Her graduating wouldn't save him, since she intended to do post-grad at Bratford.

But the slips were all old crimes. Ones he hadn't felt particularly bad about at the time and barely remembered now. Lamb needed something fresh. Something immediate for something he had just done.

Which was where the second slip had come from. Trying and failing to get that.

The librarians hadn't been amused by him dropping tennis balls on other students from the balcony that led to the exhibition gallery and private rooms. But when one of them had marched him down to be bent over the spanking bench built into the checkout/information desk, his bottom had been deemed too sore to take the strap that hung as a warning next to a cane and paddle behind that desk.

There was only one other way he could think to get a punishment for something recent.

He didn't show.

Indira was supervising the dorm while Flick had 'dinner' with Darius and Conway. From what Lamb had been able to find out, Conway was a Top, but definitely directly involved with Flick.

Lamb was wildly jealous of Dare. Two Tops fucking each other through him sounded like the best time.

Unfortunately, Lamb had made sure to ethically source his Top hook-ups, so none of them would treat him as rough as he wanted after the war Indira had been waging against his buttcheeks.

Slipping out was easy. Alby was hogging the TV and after the fifth episode of Fireman Sam, Henry jumped on him to wrestle the remote away. While Indira was breaking that up, Lamb had a clear run to the door.

He closed it behind him as Henry was ordered into the corner and Alby was hauled over Indira's lap for something a lot harder than Flick ever gave him when he was Little. Biting wasn't going to be tolerated on her watch.

Henry would get away with instigating for now, but once Birch arrived to dish out his weekly maintenance, the number of expected strokes would rise rapidly.

Lamb's options were limited. His usual partners and societies knew he was off limits. Anonymous had a blank slate policy — if you showed up with any marks at all, you weren't going in one of their benches. He'd left his phone in his room, so finding someone through an app wasn't happening.

His best bet, something he wouldn't have considered in any other circumstance, were the 'brat frats' that popped up like mushrooms after heavy rain on residential roads adjacent to the university. They had a bad reputation, even by Bratford standards. Full of students who considered the rule of Dorm Prefects too tyrannical, they'd be steadily shut down through term as the members blundered into official consequences and got taken under the wing of Tamers, some even Disciplinary Mentors, who would tug the leash nice and tight. By Easter there would only be a handful still going and those with Top supervision.

Brats who wanted to run that wild would soon find the downsides. Showing up to class hungover and sleep deprived was less fun than they'd imagined, chores like cleaning and laundry would need doing and, the thing that drew Lamb in that direction, there were always a few unscrupulous Tops who just wanted an easy fuck hanging around.

And there wasn't much easier than a brat giddy on the taste of freedom, making all the choices they thought would piss off their authority figure of choice.

It wasn't difficult to find a party. A three storey house, thumping with music too loud to listen to and with a few students spilled out into the small garden holding plastic cups.

Lamb straightened his shirt, making sure the Up To No Good slogan was clearly visible. He'd been hit on by enough mistaken Bottoms to make him careful to give the right impression. A few feet into the house someone handed him an opened can of beer. He took it, but didn't drink any. Whatever happened to him, he wanted to be fully aware when it did.

A moment later, someone in a hi-vis vest caught his arm. "Hey! Don't drink that!" they called over the music. "Give it here!"

A bit surprised, Lamb handed the beer over to the presumable safeguard.

They dipped a test strip into the liquid and waited a few moments. Another of the hi-vis dressed guys manhandled over the person who'd given it to Lamb in the first place.

"Clean!" the first one reported. "Sorry about that." It was aimed at both of them.

The person who'd given him the drink pulled their arms out of the second hi-vis vested safeguard's grip. "Still shouldn't drink it," they smirked. "Unless you like your beer mixed with milk."

Hi-vis Two grinned and took hold of the Drink Provider's arm again. "Oh, look, there's a gap over the back of the sofa that's just right to fit your naughty little bottom." They unhooked a paddle from their belt as they dragged the brat in that direction.

It was about the only clear space in the room, a semicircle around where three brats were bent over, pants down, getting a public spanking for whatever crime. There was just about room for a fourth and soon the Drink Provider was in that space, whimpering as their bottom was introduced to Hi-Vis Two's paddle at high speed.

"Haven't seen you around here before," Hi-Vis One said, looking Lamb over.

"Robin, he/him, Brat Bottom," he introduced himself. He used his middle name for no particular reason than he didn't want to be Lamb tonight. Lamb had so much punishment to get through. Reuben was only for when he was in trouble. And Ru hadn't been seen since Marshall had been driven away.

Reuben Robin was a fun tongue twister for any Top who wanted to full name him, but his parents' logic had been that that was what they'd call him if he'd been a girl and, if he turned out to be trans, he'd have an alternative name ready and waiting. Tragically no sign of that yet, but he had discovered he had the legs for skirts. They were much more forgiving on his sore bottom and, when Dare had suggested it, Lamb had jumped on anything that would make getting through this gauntlet easier. He was wearing one that evening, sans underwear.

Hi-vis One smiled. "Tammy Reardon, she/her/ma'am, Top. Looking for fun, trouble or someone to take advantage of you?" Her name rang a definite bell in Lamb's head, but he couldn't think where he'd heard it before.

"Definitely the advantage taking. Looking for someone who doesn't mind lightly bruised goods." He returned her smile with an easy one of his own. "Not the best behaved in class, but I still deserve a good, hard ... night out."

Tammy rolled her eyes. "Try upstairs. First floor is public NSFW. Top floor is off limits and not in a cute choice to get a spanking way, a you'll be barred from the house way. Any trouble, find someone in a vest or scream a safeword."

"Yes, ma'am." Lamb gave her a little salute and headed towards the stairs. If he wasn't already sore, he'd look for someone to warm him up next to Drink Provider before he went up. He preferred to feel out his potential Tops by bratting for a spanking first. How they gave one of those told him a hell of a lot about how they'd fuck.

Before he'd left campus, he'd slipped into a public bathroom to finger his hole loose and open. If he wanted sufficient prep, best to do it himself. Chances were he'd find someone to bend him over much more easily if he could tell them they could just do it.

The first floor really was public NSFW. Right at the top of the stairs was a Top pinning a Bottom against the wall as they fucked their arse with a rapid slapping sound that could be heard clearly over the now slightly quieter music. If Lamb couldn't see, he'd probably have assumed it was a spanking going on instead.

He edged past them and chose the room on the left at random. Some sort of game was going on, with a group sat in a circle on the floor and cards being dealt out. The dealer, in a hi-vis vest, grinned at Lamb and beckoned him over to join them.

"Hey, Kells," Lamb said, accepting a card and kissing the guy on the cheek. Now he remembered where he'd heard Tammy's name before.

Dare's roommate. The mummy of Alby's Little friend Owen and she'd recently started dating Oliver Keller. Not someone he'd met in person and there was no reason she'd recognise him by his middle name.

Keller swatted him in response. "Get fresh with me again, Lamb, and the only action you'll be getting is a bit of hand to arse and playing pretty naked decoration in the corner."

A couple of other players moved aside so he could join the circle and Lamb sat, groaning softly at the ache the hard floor brought to his attention.

Once everyone had a card, Keller stepped into the middle of the circle.

Lamb peeked at the one he'd been given. Seven of diamonds. Meaningless, as far as he knew.

Keller tucked the depleted pack of cards into his pocket and pulled out a fresh, complete set. "Rules are simple," he claimed in the manner of someone about to explain a very complicated game. "I call your card first, you're the Top and can give one order to the Bottom who will be called second. The Bottom can obey or take off a piece of clothing as punishment. If I call a card no one has paired, Top or Bottom, with one someone does have, they have to take the unowned card. Once all the unowned cards are taken, you get one swat on your bare bum per extra card. Then it's just orders until someone runs out of clothes, gets a spanking for losing and then, usually, it devolves into an orgy."

Lamb counted heads. Fifteen people in the circle, including him, so ... thirty seven swats available.

He winked at Keller's friend, Landon, across the circle. Only other person he knew, though he recognised a couple of other Bottoms from his CNC club.

"Room for one more?"

Lamb froze up at that voice.

"Long as you're okay playing with your ex and he's okay with you." Keller pulled a card out of the pocket with the deck he'd dealt from first. It had a blue pattern on the back, while the other set was red. He held it close as he waited for Lamb's answer.

"Yeah, I'm okay with Marshall," Lamb shrugged. He looked up over his shoulder at his former... They'd never put a word on it. Marshall was Keen's Sir, but they'd never renegotiated after that initial casual, open arrangement.

Lamb shifted back to make sure the spot there was room was next to him.

Marshall took the dealt card and knelt beside Lamb. Based on his outfit, he was looking to bottom. Tight jeans and no shirt, but a gold leather torso harness with straps that disappeared tantalisingly into his waistband. He locked eyes with the more obvious Tops, giving each a smirk of challenge. Unless he was wearing several layers of underwear or counted each shoe and socks individually, he seemed like he was at a slight disadvantage for the game.

Keller grinned and started dealing. "Two of spades?"

Someone with a nosering and pink hair raised their hand.

"Seven of hearts?"

Silence.

Nosering groaned and took the first penalty card.

"Hard luck," Keller said, without any sympathy. He patted the paddle on his belt. "Looking forward to getting a swing at your cute bum."

The next four calls were all nobody.

Marshall leaned towards Lamb. "Indira's looking for you. Had to turn off my phone to get TATL to stop chiming about you. Give me one reason not to turn you in."

Lamb smirked. "You're not going to. You know me being here means my arse is up for grabs and you want to do the grabbing."

"I've definitely missed you, Ru, but ..." Marshall sighed. "You and me aren't the only ones who need to consent to that."

"Seven of diamonds," Keller called.

Lamb raised his card facing out. He was nervous being called as the Top, what if ...

No one admitted to being the King of Spades. He took the penalty card with relief.

Keller grinned down at him. "Might have to move that one round to the front, just to find somewhere you haven't been spanked too recently." He turned back to the deck.

"Text him," Lamb suggested. "Tell him to come here and I know for a fact he'd come running. He regrets letting you go."

Marshall bit his lip. "I can't. No pressuring. If he wants..."

"Henry has never admitted what he wants without a whole lot of pressure." Lamb turned to the person next to him. "Hey, can I borrow your phone? I left mine at home so it wouldn't get nicked and I need to tell my boyfriend what he's missing out on."

They looked past him at Marshall, who nodded. "Do it, Frye. You remember Henry. Cute kid with the red hair and spanked hole."

Frye handed his phone over very quickly. "Tell him that if he wants to make Marsh jealous, Turlough Frye is very willing to assist with that. In here, I can do a lot more than just look at his pretty hole."

Lamb raised an eyebrow. Henry had been letting people look at his hole and not even shared that story with him? Very rude. Lamb was always sharing details of his sexual encounters, Henry should have worked out that he wanted to hear about his too.

Henry picked up after a couple of rings. "If this is campus security calling to tell me they have Reuben Lamb in custody, I don't know him and they should spank him extra hard."

"Hi, bunny," Lamb said, grinning at the look of open longing on Marshall's face. "I'm playing a party game with Marshall and some guy who says you know him named Turlough Frye? I'll send you a TATL ping through his phone, if you'd like to join us."

"... What kind of party game?" Henry asked, suspiciously.

A cheer went around the circle as they got their first actual match. Jack of Diamonds, in a violently magenta cardigan considered the toppy looking King of Hearts, who folded their arms.

"On your knees, head down, arse up, for the rest of the game," Magenta Cardigan ordered.

For a second, it seemed as though Toppy Arms was going to reach for a shoe rather than take a single order, then they broke. With a truly wicked smirk, they took position, lifting their bottom nice and high with a wiggle.

"Good boy, Holt," Keller said.

Lamb let exactly how intrigued he was by the whole thing into his tone. "The sort of game you get when you stick a bunch of bored, bratty, horny Switches in a room together. You'll fit in a hell of a lot better than I do. Better get here quickly or you'll miss the part where basically everyone gets paddled." He hung up without waiting for an answer and opened the TATL app to give Henry a location pin.

Turlough grinned as he got his phone back. "There are penalties for joining the game late."

"Good," Lamb said. "Henry likes penalties. They give him something to complain about."

That round had a couple more pair ups. One got ordered to submit to being tickled and squirmed and yelped worse than most brats took a spanking. The other was a shy Bottom called as Top, who hesitantly admitted they couldn't think of anything.

Keller smiled kindly. "I can give an order for you, but it'll cost you an item of clothing."

The Bottom nodded, a lot more eagerly and took off both shoes.

A groan went around the room.

"Uh uh." Keller waggled a finger at them all. "First penalty decides if those count as one or two. And, Landon, turn around, you're not to look at the rest of the circle for the rest of the game."

Landon rolled his eyes and pulled off his shoes too. "Not letting me watch is a dick move, Kells."

Keller blew him a kiss. "This game is all dick moves, Matty. Orders are just going to get sexier and meaner as we go along. If someone doesn't have something up their arse before we run out of penalty swat cards, we're playing wrong." He took the pile of cards he'd just gone through and started shuffling. "Everyone hold their card up, I'll try to get through this faster now the new players have seen a demonstration."

Lamb might have to reconsider his stance on brat frat parties. He was having fun, though the preliminary rounds where they weeded out the unassigned cards were less interesting. It could easily be fixed by picking only the assigned ones out of the second deck and just shuffling those, but he supposed then the dealer wouldn't get the perk of spanking everyone.

That round he received another penalty card and watched as another pair of shoes were removed to avoid an order to speak only in haikus and Frye sucked someone's fingers enthusiastically on their order. He crawled back across the circle, leaving a noticeably tent in said someone's lap and swaying his hips.

"Renard is so predictable," Marshall commented. "He'll have the next one give him a hickey, then nipples, then dick. Every bloody time."

Frye grinned as Marshall took his second penalty card. "Nothing wrong with knowing what he wants."

Literally everyone besides Landon was holding a penalty card now.

With twenty two cards out of the pack, there were going to inevitably be more match ups in the third round.

After one unlucky third penalty to Marshall and Magenta Cardigan getting to strike again with an order to Six of Hearts, who'd done the tickling earlier. 

"No repeats, Spicer," Keller said.

"Tickling in a totally different location," Magenta Cardigan aka Spicer argued. "You're not going to penalise Renard for sucking everywhere."

Keller held up a hand. "Arguing with the dealer is a great way to get yourself bonus penalties. Lose the shoes and socks. Or you can just lose the shoes and come here for a quick hand spanking."

Spicer rolled their eyes and took off both.

"Ileana, handcuffs on," Keller said to the Six of Hearts as a replacement challenge. "And everyone remember bondage gear does not count as clothing. Adding or removing that is fair game."

More cards were drawn.

Frye told the shy Bottom to come sit in his lap. She blushed and crawled over to obey.

After a little coaxing he managed to get out that her name was Poppy and that she was up for basically anything except topping.

Frye wrapped his arms around her. "How about you stay here and I'll whisper in your ear what you should tell them to do? Would you like that, Poppy?"

"Cheater," Marshall accused, as Poppy nodded and leaned back against his chest.

"Take it up with Keller."

Lamb wasn't called until the end when there were only two cards left in Keller's hand. He met Landon's eyes across the circle, the only one who hadn't been called. They might only really know each other through Keller, but he knew Landon was just a Top. Risky to order around.

Keller looked at the card in his hand. Lamb glimpsed a corner and relaxed. He could take a third stroke of the paddle.

"You're topping Landon, Lamb" Keller claimed, putting all three cards onto the discard deck and starting to shuffle before anyone could call him out.

Lamb winced at Landon's nervous expression. Thinking quickly, he crawled across the circle to the Top. He knelt in front of him. "My bum's sore. Rub it better."

Landon's worry shifted to a toppy smirk. He shifted his legs around and patted his lap. "Bare?"

Being the first one semi-naked wasn't an issue for Lamb, honestly it was a perk. He shuffled round and bent over Landon's lap. He felt the back of his skirt being lifted and tucked into its waistband.

"Fun fact, Reuben," Keller said. "Any clothing alterations are permanent unless you lose the item. So, that stays up."

Of course he'd waited to tell him that until it was done. Lamb settled in comfortably as Landon hesitantly touched his bottom. He peeked sideways to check Marshall was watching with the right amount of irritated jealousy.

Once again, Marshall got an early penalty. He had the maximum possible four. Either Keller was a hell of a trick dealer or fate had it out for Marshall's bottom. He hadn't got to take it give any orders yet.

Lamb moaned softly to encourage Landon and was rewarded with a proper grope. Which was when Keller handed him his third penalty card and Henry walked in.

Chapter Text

Honestly, it was about what Henry had expected.

Just not the bit where it was being led by freaking Keller.

Henry stepped into the circle of mostly Switches holding cards. He recognised several of them from his Introductory class and suspected a bunch were Hunters, based purely on the way they reacted to his arrival. Eyes on him, very still, watching as though they were waiting for his nerve to fail. The moment he tried to run, they'd take him down.

"Want me to deal you in?" Keller asked. He was wearing an incredibly dorky fluorescent vest.

"What's the catch?" Henry asked. Not what was the game, he could guess from the fact Lamb was stretched over Landon's lap getting his bum felt up. And that one guy waving his arse in the air. Some variation on Truth or Dare where everyone lost.

"You missed four rounds where you might have earned a stroke of my paddle. You'll be getting those. Bare. And then your pants stay down." Keller laid it out plainly.

Henry nodded. "Sure. I'm in."

Keller made a circle with his finger to indicate Henry should turn around. He did and leaned over without needing a second order. Birch's preference for him holding his shins had him bent nearly double as Keller undid his trousers for him.

He caught Marshall's eye as his cock sprang free. Half hard, just from seeing Lamb's arse and Marshall's torso. His Sir looked so many miles out of his league in that harness. Henry wanted to beg him for forgiveness, but he also didn't want to ruin the game they were playing.

Birch had arrived to give him his maintenance, but Indira had been in full panic mode about losing Lamb and drafted him into helping search instead, so Henry wasn't sore yet. Slipping away had been easy. She sent Henry off in a group with Joshua and Birch and they hadn't needed much motivation to go make out and give Henry freedom to leave.

His phone was in his pocket, but turned off. If things got awkward, he could turn it back on and call Indira down on everyone. The nuke them from orbit option. Marshall had to know about Lamb being AWOL. He'd never been removed from the TATL group.

Keller's paddle smacked across his arse and he jumped, very glad he wasn't feeling that over Birch's cane welts. Even if he'd be feeling the cane across a paddled bottom later. That way around seemed more manageable.

Probably because this was, supposedly, fun.

The paddle was medium sized and narrow, only just too small to get all the way across both cheeks. Keller swung the second backhanded to even it up.

Then he moved down to deal with the lower half of Henry's bottom. It wasn't at all worrying that he carefully left his sit spots untouched.

Henry needed a hell of a lot harder to get him to feel right. The pain was just enough to give an edge to his tongue.

He took the card Keller handed him without looking at it and shuffled over to sit between Marshall and Frye. And the random girl Frye had curled up on his lap.

The floor was painfully cold and hard against his lightly smacked bottom. Even though it was covered in thin crash mats, that wasn't enough padding to make it comfortable.

Henry gave Marshall a look. Eyelids slightly lowered, half a smirk, no move to cover himself.

Marshall's eyes darted down to his cock, then back up to glare. "Keen."

The fizzing excitement in his stomach went abruptly flat. He'd been hoping for a bunny.

"Anyone got the King of Spades already?" Keller asked.

Of course it was Lamb who raised his hand, nearly smacking Landon in the face.

Keller went over to fetch it, waving Landon's hands out of the way to give Lamb a smack with that paddle across the crest of his arse. "Just so I don't forget later," he grinned, then shuffled the card into the small deck he was holding.

Henry sneered at Marshall and turned to talk to Frye. "I presume it's bad if my card is drawn."

"Depends if you want to top or bottom," Frye told him. "It's perfect if you want to do both."

He understood pretty soon as Keller started drawing, calling the first card Top and the second Bottom. Orders were given, skirting the edge of inappropriate, and they were either followed or the 'Bottom' lost a piece of clothing.

The girl in Frye's lap got handed a card when she was called with one that wasn't anyone.

Henry pointedly ignored Marshall. In the mood he was in, the not nearly enough spanking poisoning him with the urge to lash out, he'd only make things between them much worse.

A few draws in, Landon got to top some kid Henry didn't know.

"Off, Lamb," Landon ordered. "Blue, come here and let me touch you."

"Specifics, Landon," Keller said. "Or I'll have to count that as the same as Lamb's order."

Landon rolled his eyes. "Let me touch your dick?"

Lamb got up without even a pout at getting replaced.

Blue, a short boy whose hair appeared to have lost the fight after mistaking itself for a rival hedgehog, crawled across the circle and sat back on his heels. But when Landon reached for him, he abruptly turned around and backed into sitting on Landon's lap. He leaned back against him like Frye's girl was. "Hi! Nice to meet you!"

Landon trapped him against his chest with one arm and reached down the front of Blue's trousers with the other. "Going to be a good boy for me?"

"Maybe." Blue shrugged and let his eyes flutter closed as he was grasped. "If you're nice."

Lamb pouted at Henry. "You stole my spot."

"You could always sit on Leon's lap," Henry suggested. He moved his legs so there was no hope Lamb could squeeze onto his.

"You can only give orders when the cards say," Marshall snapped. Oh, he did not like being called by his first name.

Henry winced as he was called to top. He had his fingers crossed for a nobody card, but Keller called the man whose face was smushed against the floor.

He wasn't sure if he was allowed to counteract previous instructions, so something he could do in that position. "Spread your legs," Henry ordered. "Wide as you can."

The guy lifted his face just enough to give Henry a heated look, then obliged.

"Wider, Holt," Keller added. "Until it hurts."

Holt kept going until his legs were splayed and his bottom was much lower, but more spread. If he'd been nude, his hole would've been as vulnerable to smacks as Henry's had been in wheelbarrow.

Henry had intended to see how Marshall and Frye were reacting, but he couldn't take his eyes off Holt. He'd just ... done it. Because Henry had told him to?

He was trembling with the effort, stopped at the point where it started hurting, but he stayed. Holt looked strong, around Lamb's height and weight, but more defined muscle. Built like a brick shithouse, Henry's uncle would've said.

Absolutely nothing holding him in place but Henry's word. He could never have forced him.

Lamb nudged Henry.

Across the circle one of the sharp looking probable Hunters was eyeing him.

"You can obey or lose your shoes, Keen," Keller told him.

He blinked. "I, uh, wasn't listening. What was the order?"

"Got a lot of new players, so things are moving slower than usual," the Hunter observed. "Keller said we should have something inside someone before we run out of penalty cards. And you're already accessible."

Henry felt himself clench. "Uh huh. Something?"

"You got anything on you?"

No, Henry hadn't shown up carrying sex toys. Weirdly enough.

He shook his head.

"Come here, then." Their name was still a mystery, but they pulled a smallish vibrator with a flared base out of their bag and rolled a condom onto it.

Henry froze. That was a hell of an escalation from ...

Well maybe not from what Landon was doing and he hadn't been paying attention to the others.

"You can safe or take the clothing forfeit," Marshall reminded him. He looked like he might attack the other Hunter if they touched Henry.

"Um ... Can I put it in myself?" Henry asked hesitantly. Collateral damage wasn't the goal. "And maybe know your name?"

"Aquila Adler, she/her, miss or mistress, Switch." She crooked her finger. "You can put it in yourself, but I want a real close view." Her eyes flicked to Marshall. "Would you rather bow down in front of me while you get this inside yourself or bend over my lap and show your pretty bottom to Marsh while I put it in?"

Henry swallowed and crawled towards her, considering as he pretended to be more slowed by his lowered clothing than he really was. He knew precisely which one would make Marshall angrier. The one his inner brat was urging him to do.

But that wasn't how he wanted to play.

The goal wasn't to hurt him more. Henry didn't want an angry, jealous Marshall to slam him against a wall and claim him like the couple at the top of the stairs that he'd had to squeeze past.

He wanted him to just be horny when he did.

Henry knelt in front of Adler and held out his hand. "I'd like to do it myself, please, miss."

She smiled. "Polite boy. Do you need lube?"

He nodded and took the vibrator in one hand and the lube in his other. Somehow what he was supposed to do next deserted him.

"Turn around. Head down, bottom up. Show me your hole."

Henry relaxed. Orders he could do. He shuffled round and bowed down, meeting Marshall's eyes as he did so. Who was behind him was irrelevant, it was all about him. And Marshall's expression softened slightly as he saw it.

"This would be a lot easier if I did it," Adler observed. She smacked him lightly, making him twitch. "But if you're sure, coat the toy in a thick coat of lube. It's going in as is. No fingers."

His arms were supporting him, so he tried to undo the cap on the lube one handed. It slipped and the whole tube rolled across the floor.

It was, of course, Marshall who picked it up. He brought it back over. "Need some help?" The earlier coldness was gone, replaced with the heat of arousal.

Henry froze up. He felt ridiculous and embarrassed, the game was being held up while he tried to navigate a tightrope of not making Marshall upset. Hesitantly, he nodded. Marshall helping was more than Henry could have hoped for.

Keller tutted. "Intervening in another pair's turn is against the rules, Marsh. Take something off as a penalty."

It was Adler that Marshall handed the lube to. "Let her help, bunny. You don't have to struggle alone."

The nickname sounded even better from Marshall's lips than the thousands of times Henry had imagined since he'd told him to leave. Disobeying wasn't an option.

He offered the vibrator over his shoulder. "I changed my mind. Please help me, mistress?"

Adler's hand was braced against one of his buttocks a moment later, holding him slightly open as she drizzled lube directly between them.

Marshall kicked his shoes off, then his hand was in Henry's hair, pulling lightly. "Good little bunny. You just need a firm hand and something firmer inside you, hm? Lucky you, getting exactly that."

Henry whimpered at the touch of the end of the vibrator to his hole. It eased in slowly, but inevitably. The time for tapping out was truly past. It felt good. Subtly different from when he ordered Lamb to fill him up. A demand from the opposite direction.

Offering his submission to Marshall. Adler was irrelevant.

A cheer went up around the circle as the toy settled fully inside him.

Adler patted the base to make sure it was secure, then clicked it on with a small remote control.

The noise Henry made was one that had formerly been reserved for Lamb and Marshall.

Keller quickly counted the cards left in his deck. "Good one taking it for the team, Henry. Might've had to penalise you all if there wasn't penetration before I got to paddling." He handed Marshall another card. "Only just squeezed that in in time."

Based on the audible relief as Henry sat up on his heels, Keller wasn't even joking. The vibrations amped up and he jerked, lifting up as though he'd accidentally sat on a pin.

Henry scowled over his shoulder at Adler. "You can't keep messing with that thing."

She shrugged. "Nothing in the rules against it, right, Kells?"

Keller's smirk wasn't comforting at all. "Actually, I was thinking, since we have an odd number of players, someone's going to get left out each round. So, whoever gets called last gets to hold onto that remote for the next round."

Henry closed his eyes. Now he was upright, it was sinking in that he'd just allowed a stranger to sort of fuck him in front of a whole group of people he mostly barely knew.

He blamed Bratford. It had desensitised him to having his arse out in public and being ordered to present it hadn't felt all that different to presenting it bare for a spanking until the toy was already inside him.

Marshall took his hand. "Let's get you back to your spot, bunny."

When Henry opened his eyes, he was baffled to see Marshall beaming proudly. He allowed himself to be led on his knees back to the space next to Frye, which Lamb had reclaimed.

Lamb immediately opened his arms and Henry slumped into them in relief. The vibrator kept buzzing away, but the cage of his brat's arms let him feel safe enough to relax and really enjoy it. He made a soft noise and laid his head against Lamb's shoulder. His hips moved to the rhythm of the short bursts of vibration within him.

"Brave boy," Lamb told him. "Does that feel good? You like being all full and squirming on a lightly spanked bottom. I can feel how beautifully hard you are, master."

Marshall's hand on his back made Henry startle. "You're playing so nicely with others, bunny. Good boy."

Lamb kissed the top of Henry's head. "I told you both that you missed each other."

"I ..." Marshall's hand withdrew. "Sorry. We can do casual fun, Henry. No pressure. Treat me like anyone else in the circle, okay?"

Henry nodded. He wanted to obey Marshall's orders, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to manage that one. But casual fun was basically all there was to their relationship outside the training. Not quite the 'I'll forgive you ... if you can take a serious punishment for daring to tell me no' that Henry had been hoping for, but a quieter maybe.

An 'I still want your body.' Henry could absolutely understand vetoing the mind it came with. And he ached for Marshall too badly to turn down crumbs.

He didn't even hate the group game.

If Lamb had suggested it without the lure of Marshall, Henry wouldn't have ever agreed, but the way Holt had submitted to his words had been an incredible rush. And submitting himself had scratched an itch Lamb couldn't quite reach.

Keller gestured with the paddle he had unhooked from his belt. "Penalty cards, line up, cheeks bare and bent over. Lamb, you can stay comforting for now, but you'll be getting yours whenever Henry's ready to move out of your lap."

Frye raised his hand. "Uh, I have a brat I'm looking after too?"

The girl in his lap giggled, doing a terrible job of pretending she needed any comfort.

"Poppy's getting up now too," Keller said, unimpressed. "Henry got his already. Now, Frye or I'll double your swats."

The whole group obeyed. It took a while as people got in each other's way and got giggly about it.

Henry tried to pull away. "I'm fine, go have fun."

Lamb's grip tightened. "We're in enough shit with Indira without adding Flick's punishment for insufficient aftercare."

"Ru. That was an order," Henry told him, a firmness in his tone that surprised himself. "Put me down gently and offer that sore bottom of yours for a paddling. Kells should do yours extra hard."

With a brush of his hand over Henry's cock that made him whimper, Lamb obeyed. "Yes, master," he whispered as Henry's bottom touched the cold floor, then he was up, swaying his hips as he took position in the line of bent over players.

Keller went to him first and Lamb handed him a pair of cards. "Now, I remember you having three," Keller mused. "Hiding or losing one gets it doubled."

"You gave it to me," Henry snapped. "And already swatted him for it."

That wicked little paddle smacked down twice against Lamb's bottom, catching his sit spots forehand and backhand for evenish coverage.

"True, Henry, but there's no need for that attitude." Keller pointed at the end of the line with the paddle. "Two swats to adjust it. Position."

Bristling, Keller wasn't being fair, Henry shoved himself up and joined the line of waiting bare bottoms. The first stroke went right across the base of the vibrator inside him and he saw stars. Panting and watching his cock drool slightly, Henry was relieved Keller gave him a moment to recover before the second came to the same area. Two in a row would've sent him over the edge, he was almost certain.

Fuck, was this how Joshua felt about spanking all the time?

Henry bit his lip to keep from begging for more.

"First to cum gets a punishment of my choice," Keller told him.

The other side of Lamb, Marshall groaned. "You can't keep making up new rules, Kells."

Keller prowled along to stand behind him. "That is literally my job as dealer, Marsh, and boys who got unlucky enough to collect five cards should know better to complain. Unless you'd like it to be ten?"

Marshall had one of the best and lowest postures in the group, holding onto his ankles without the slightest tremble of effort. No underwear, but that harness strapped down and around his cock like a ring.

"Ten sounds great, sir," Marshall said. "And you should be specific with the consequences of actions. Bad topping, that."

"Cheeky brat," Keller commented. "Okay, a hard ten. Give you a lovely red blush for us all to enjoy."

Marshall's response when the first landed was a definite moan and twitch of his cock. In theory, Henry had known his Sir was a bit of a masochist, but seeing it was a whole new thing.

He took the other smacks beautifully. It was almost enough to make Henry see the appeal of spanking someone. He was just so obviously loving it. If it hadn't been for the leather secure around his cock, Henry thought Marshall might have earned the punishment of Keller's choice that had just been threatened.

Once he was done, the promised red blush covering Marshall's bottom and upper thighs, Keller moved on down the line, dishing out the appropriate number to match the cards collected. He was fast, whipping the paddle forehand, then following it up with an almost immediate backhand.

Yelps, moans and whimpers moved up the line in his wake. The most anyone else had was four and a couple of lucky people only had one.

Keller paused at the one Henry had told to spread his legs. "Technically, Holt, you broke two orders by getting up. Which means two lost items of clothing."

Holt flipped him off over his shoulder. "You'd be punishing me for not getting up, sir."

"Yeah," Keller agreed, not even trying to pretend he'd be fair. "But you'd only be facing one penalty. And insulting the dealer means I'm doubling your swats."

"Tyrant," Holt muttered, but did nothing to resist the four rapid swats on his sensitive undercurve.

At the end of the row, Keller looked back at the line of now spanked bottoms waving in the air. "Definitely my favourite part of this game," he told them with a grin. "You can put your clothes back in place if you want, but it's a one time offer. Once you're sat down again that's how you stay unless it's an order or a loss."

Henry and nearly everyone else righted their clothing. Lamb didn't bother, flopping down onto his bare arse with his pants and jeans still at his ankles.

Marshall made a happy little mewling sound as he sat. The exact same one he usually made when Henry had his cock deep enough in his mouth that he choked.

Sitting back down with the vibrations amping up another notch, Henry leaned against Lamb's side. Any hope of making Marshall jealous had vanished with his encouragement to let Adler up his arse. He just couldn't get a read on the guy. His Sir should be furious, reclaiming him hard or storming off, but instead he was making eyes across the circle at anyone who'd meet them.

Frye had one hand on Lamb's bare upper thigh and the other busy up Poppy's skirt on the other side of him. Lamb might have an arm around Henry, but his legs were splayed to show off his hard cock to everyone. Just ... none of them seemed to mind sharing. As long as everyone was having fun, whose hands were causing the fun seemed irrelevant.

Keller returned his paddle to his belt. "All pairings now, aside from who gets to control the vibrator up Henry's tight hole," he told them as he pulled out the now very small pile of cards, like that was a normal thing to say and make happen.

The buzzing vibrator, massaging his prostate, was strangely soothing. Henry could feel himself slipping into the sort of calm he usually only got to after a session with one of Birch's evil sticks. The state he refused to acknowledge as subspace anywhere but the privacy of his own mind.

"Top Frye," Keller said, apparently familiar enough with who was what now to not need to call them as the ten of clubs or whatever. "Bottom ... damn, Marshall, this deck wants you to suffer today."

Marshall grinned easily. "I mean ... same."

Frye fished a pair of small metal clips out of his pocket and tossed them over to Marshall. "Get those on your sensitive nipples, Marsh."

"Bastard," Marshall told him as he obeyed, wincing at the bite of each.

Henry listened to the call of names he wasn't yet familiar with and watched with mild curiosity as similar dares were given. Clothes were altered back to immodesty, laps were crawled into and another pair of shoes were lost.

Poppy was called to top Lamb and very obviously leaned towards Frye so he could tell her what to say. Lamb didn't even listen to the whole thing before he was removing his shoes. Knowing him, he was aiming to be the first one naked.

Landon lost his socks rather than submit to an inner thigh spanking, then Henry tensed as he was called to top again. He didn't know the Bottom. Spicer, whose hair was the same neon pink as Adler's cardigan.

Henry wasn't entirely comfortable going directly to the sexual stuff, even if the others were. He thought for long enough that Keller threatened to say something for him.

Glaring at the dealer, Henry said, "Grab Kells' paddle and give him a couple of good whacks with it. It's definitely not fair that he's the only one without a sore bum."

"That's not allowed!" Keller protested as Spicer stood and advanced on him, but Holt and Landon immediately got up to help.

One took each of Keller's arms and bent him over as he struggled. Not too hard and without a safeword, though. Less unhappy with the idea than he was pretending.

Spicer snatched Keller's paddle and raised it, before hesitating. "To be really fair, his clothes should come down. Colour on that, Kells?"

He groaned, but ... "Green."

Keller's clothes were whisked down and the paddle rapidly smacked over the bare skin before Henry could say it wasn't necessary. He didn't count how many Spicer dished out, but it was definitely more in the range of what Marshall had got than any of the others.

Only when Keller yipped at a particularly biting smack did the paddle lower. "Good enough?" Spicer asked.

"Definitely," Henry said with feeling. Way more than he'd intended, actually.

Holt and Landon let go of Keller's arms.

There was a nervous silence as Keller slowly pulled his clothes back on, then straightened up.

"Spicer, Holt, Landon," Keller gave each a stern look. "That absolutely counts as insulting the dealer. Lose an item of clothing each." He checked the last card of the deck. "Holt you get the remote control. I want it on the highest setting all next round. You can mess with the pattern, but he just earned himself absolutely no mercy." He turned to look down at Henry. "Anything to say in your defence, brat?"

Henry lifted his chin defiantly, even as the vibrator ramped up to much too intense. "You deserved it for being mean, Kells. And it was funny."

There was a twitch in the corner of Keller's mouth that gave away his amusement. "Doubling down with more insults, Keen? Brave choice. Lose two items of clothing."

"I don't think that's fair," Henry retorted. "And you'll never convince me you're not mean by being more mean."

Keller tucked the pile of cards into his pocket and came to kneel in front of Henry. "Arguing against a punishment gets you double, little brat." He took hold of Henry's ankle and began undoing his shoe. "And I never denied being mean. Especially to naughty boys who push to find out what happens."

Henry smirked through the removal of both shoes and socks, but got his hands in the way when Keller reached for his trousers' button. "You said two."

"I said double two. Lift your arms. Like you're surrendering."

Losing four items at once, his shirt yanked off over his head and Lamb, the traitor, helping lift him to get his trousers down, took Henry from fully dressed to only one item away from losing the whole thing. He shivered slightly, though not because it was cold.

Keller patted Henry's shoulder as he stood up. "That was funny," he allowed, "but if I let you get away with it, everyone will be targeting me all game. Funny once."

Henry eyed Keller's paddle. First naked got a hard spanking. From the couple of swats he'd got earlier, he knew it felt incredibly good if he was filled while it landed. If he got that spanking, which suddenly seemed very likely, Henry doubted he'd get through it without being first to get off too. And only Keller knew what the punishment for that would be.

"Understood," Henry said, letting his tone imply the sir.

There was expectation in the air as Keller drew out the cards for a shuffle. More than half the other players were watching Henry like he was prey.

He realised that if he landed as Bottom for any of them, they'd give him an order they'd assume he'd want to refuse. Trying to make him choose the humiliation of nudity and the pain of a hard spanking.

Keller smirked at him. "Don't worry, you don't have to stop playing just because you're out of clothes and your bottom is smacked bright scarlet. You just can't refuse an order unless you want to completely walk away. Don't get too attached to that vibrator. A few rounds after losing and your hole will have had several visitors."

Henry considered that idea as Lamb was called to top someone named Julian. It required his consent, obviously. If he really didn't want this, he could have safed or walked away at any point.

He'd run from Anonymous at the suggestion he bottom for anyone. Then Lamb had taught him being penetrated didn't have to be submissive and Marshall had taught him that he really fucking liked it when it was.

It wasn't guaranteed that he'd lose the game. Landon and Lamb were both throwing off clothes. One because he didn't want to submit at all and one because he only wanted to. A few lucky draws for Henry and a few more people down to underwear ...

But if he did lose, Henry didn't think he'd walk away until he was satisfied. And, as the insistent buzzing in his arse told him, he wanted something that took pleasure from being inside him, not unfeeling silicone.

"Marshall and ..." Keller flipped another card and hissed between his teeth. "Sorry, Henry."

Fuck. Marshall knew all Henry's hard limits. Exactly what apparently minor thing to order that would have him pulling off his pants and bending over for the paddle rather than go through with it.

"Hm." Marshall ran his eyes over Henry, lingering on his cock straining against his underwear. "Come here." He pointed to the spot right in front of him.

Henry crawled, like everyone else did when the order required them to move. The crash mats dimpled under his weight. He knelt in front of his Sir and awaited the order that would seal his fate.

Marshall's lips parted slightly, breathing deeply like he was trying to catch the scent of his prey. "Kiss me," he ordered.

Not what Henry had been expecting at all. He hesitated.

There was a flash of disappointment in Marshall's eyes. "Keller, I'll take his —"

He was cut off by Henry surging forward and crashing their mouths together. They bumped noses. Their lips weren't in the right position. Neither of them were prepared for it to happen.

It was perfect.

A bit of manoeuvring later and they slotted together like a jigsaw. Henry was consumed, possessed, claimed. Marshall's tongue ran over Henry's lips, tasting him like he was starving. Even the harsh buzzing against his prostate faded into the background.

When they finally broke apart, someone wolf whistled.

Marshall smiled that slightly crooked grin of his. "Hi, bunny. Ready to invite me back into your warren?"

Henry smirked back. "Warren's a bit full at the moment, sir."

With a snort, Marshall shook his head. "That wasn't actually supposed to be innuendo. I meant your life, your home, your bed."

That was a much more difficult question. Henry didn't deserve Marshall in any of those, no matter how much he wanted him there. "I don't think weasels usually knock nicely and ask to come in," he said after a long moment. "Predatory animals take whatever prey they can catch." He laid a hand on Marshall's knee. "And I'm running fast, sir. Too scared you're going to rip my heart out to slow down."

Marshall laid his hand on Henry's chest, feeling his rapid pulse. "Run as fast as you can, little bunny. Now I know you can be caught, I'll be setting traps." His smile twisted into a smirk. "So, keep playing. I'm rooting for you to get your hole ruined tonight. I want to see you strung out on pleasure writhing on another Top's cock and if you're lucky, you'll get to see me like that too."

Henry gulped. "No promises you're not going to rip my heart out?"

Marshall gave him a shove, right over said heart. "Oh, I'm definitely doing that, love. So I can keep it close and safe. I'll take much better care of it than you have." He sat back on his heels. "You won't like the consequences if I have to repeat an order, bunny. We keep playing until we stop having fun."

Shuffling back into his place in the circle, Henry dared to hope. That last sentence hadn't sounded like it was just about the game.

Chapter Text

"I really hope it was worth it."

Henry grinned. "Yes, ma'am. Completely."

Indira raised an immaculately plucked eyebrow. "Well, boys, it's my job to convince you otherwise. Office. Now."

It was well past curfew, they'd only got back onto campus safely because Holt had abused his prefect privilege and lied to the security officer who'd stopped them about catching them out and taking it upon himself to walk them home. Otherwise they would have had to bend over for a little nightstick before being delivered to Flick's dorm.

Henry didn't hate Holt. He'd complimented Henry's mean order, even as he'd taken his revenge for it. And, yeah, he'd been rough, but he'd made sure Henry would enjoy that. Then he'd been completely casual, acting like they'd just met in a normal way and not during a game that had involved Holt slamming him down on his back and fucking him until he cried.

If Henry wasn't sort of only just back with Marshall, he might have been at risk of moving all the way on.

Mooning after a guy who 'didn't do relationships' couldn't be worse than obsessing over the guy he'd told to fuck off out of his life. Only ...

Marshall had come with them. His logic had been that going straight to Indira for the inevitable punishment was smarter than trying to avoid her, but Henry had a secret hope that it was also because he wanted to spend more time with them.

Indira led the way and Birch herded them into Flick's study behind her. He shut the door with a particularly ominous click.

Henry kept expecting Birch to start lecturing, but he seemed happy enough to lean against the door and let Indira call the shots.

Marshall and Lamb slipped into 'being scolded' position, legs shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind their backs. Henry copied them.

Indira must have brought her own implements, because Henry didn't recognise most of the options she'd laid out on Flick's desk. She stood in front of the charcuterie of pain and examined each of them until he squirmed.

"Lamb. You skipped out on a session with my switch. Running away from punishment usually nets you a repeat." She turned and swished a switch out of a pot of water where it had been being kept fresh and limber. "That means I'll be switching you now, but I'm not crossing the punishment off your list. On top of that, you left your phone so I couldn't track your location, missed curfew and ... I want the truth, Reuben, did you intend to meet up with Marshall?"

Henry was fully prepared to back up whatever lie Lamb chose to tell. He didn't think it was intentional or they'd have teased him with it earlier. Lamb would have insisted he go out with him because Marshall would be there, rather than a call from a number he didn't know out of nowhere.

"No, ma'am," Lamb said, with his usual absence of shame and self-preservation. "I wandered into a party because it looked like a good place to get fucked by someone who wouldn't care about my previous bruises. Turned out it was more legitimate than it seemed. Safeguards actually keeping an eye out and all, but I'd really hoped for a bit more genuine danger." He met Indira's eyes directly. "Honestly, I'm getting bored of punishment slips."

Henry groaned softly. If he'd known that was Lamb's motive, he'd have turned him in, Marshall or not. The only reason he didn't completely regret helping Lamb with avoiding punishment was that he'd been very well compensated.

Henry had quickly learned the importance of receiving a punishment he knew he'd earned when Marshall had him stop pinned. There was still some minor stuff from that period he felt guilty about, while he'd got through that feeling about worse stuff he had been punished for. Like allowing Sadie to forgive him for totally crossing the line into inappropriateness.

Indira nodded calmly. "Let's see how hard you played, Ru. Over the arm of the sofa."

Flick's sofa was a large, soft thing, a bit like its owner. The cushions were squashed with how often someone got cuddled to death on it, but the arm was high, providing a makeshift spanking bench for the more evilly minded.

Lamb bent and Indira lifted the back of his skirt to tuck into his waistband and examined his revealed backside. Keller had gone pretty easy on him and the previous soreness had inspired the other players to avoid giving him spanking based challenges, but he was still pretty pink.

Henry looked away, as though Lamb might have any modesty about quite how obvious it was that he'd been recently fucked.

Indira ignored that and snapped the switch against Lamb's bottom without warning. "Not so hard I can't make this one to remember, Ru. A dozen from your teacher and the rest will be just from me." She laid into him at a speed that had Henry taking a horrified half step backwards.

He bumped directly into Birch, who had stopped lounging and started looming at some point. Henry froze.

"Running out on maintenance, Keen," Birch said, sounding like he was barely containing his excitement. "Naughty, naughty. Not to mention aiding a known fugitive, putting yourself in the same potential danger and getting me paddled by Indira."

Henry had been about to protest that the only danger he'd been seeking out was Marshall, but that last point needed addressing more. "She spanked you?!" He twisted to look up and back at his Disciplinary Mentor.

Birch smirked. "I'm happy to drop my trousers if you need proof, Keen. One brat going missing is a forgivable mistake. Two gets the guy supervising the second brat told to bare his bottom and present it for discipline right next to the statue of the Unrepentant Brat. I'm afraid I didn't quite live up to that level of not caring, Indira spanks nearly as hard as my Top."

Indira scoffed. "Nearly as hard. When you're healed, Birch, we'll go see Chalk and me and him get a buttock each and then you can judge it properly."

Birch's smirk stayed exactly where it was. "Only if you bring Leon along too. I'm far too biased to say anything but Chalk."

Marshall shook his head. "I'm too scared to say anything but Indira. Only way to be sure is get a brat who isn't familiar with either of you to judge it. One brave enough to tell the truth."

Even as she talked, Indira hadn't let up on striping Lamb's bottom thoroughly enough that it looked almost a solid red. Henry was sure he'd be howling by that point, but Lamb took it with the same relaxed serenity he took cock. A few soft noises and a little shifting, but overall not nearly enough feedback for what should be an intense experience.

Henry leaned back slightly, just enough to bump into Birch again. An arm snaked around his chest.

"Steady, Keen," Birch purred. "Or I'll think you can't take your punishment standing and tie you up for it instead."

That didn't sound too bad. Frye had held him down when Holt had gotten to take 'revenge' for that mean trick of putting him in a stress position and it had reminded Henry that Marshall had never really followed up on the rope bunny comment that his nickname had come from. Bondage was one Henry was pretty eager to try out, just not with Birch.

Henry grinned to himself at the faint ache Holt had left behind. The moment he'd been ordered into the same position Holt had been in when Henry had arrived, he'd guessed what was coming. Underwear still on and Marshall had chosen to lose the game a couple of rounds earlier, so little risk to refusing, but Henry had wanted it. Desperately.

Silicone just didn't feel as good as having a human inside him claiming their pleasure with minimal regard for his.

Holt had checked in every step, laughing at Henry's increasingly frustrated growls of green. When he'd finally replaced the vibrator with his dick, warm and solid and feeling, Henry had only lasted a few thrusts before he'd lost Keller's first to cum challenge.

It was going to be awkward when Indira told Henry to take his pants down ...

Indira paused, then ran her hand over Lamb's spine. "I could keep going, but this is the best reaction I'm going to get out of you before you hit red, huh? No regrets, even now."

Lamb pushed himself up with a wince. "I am sorry, ma'am, but I kinda ... needed that. For something immediate. I was naughty, I got punished, I feel like there's a connection between behaviour and discipline."

"There's a connection with the slips," Indira reminded him, but she also opened her arms for a hug. "You were naughty, you decided you didn't want to take the punishment immediately, so I'm giving them to you now. If you truly felt it was unrelated, you'd be safing out, not showing up morning and evening."

"Didn't show up today," Lamb muttered, falling into her arms. It was a bit ridiculous, she was small enough that she couldn't get them fully around him, but she patted his back anyway.

"One rebellion in fourteen punishments is very well behaved for any brat," Indira reassured him. "When I have to draw it out for Marsh, it's more like one every three."

Lamb laughed a little and pulled away from her hug after a moment. "Thank you, ma'am."

Indira rolled her eyes. "You're not at Beaton anymore, Ru. No thanks necessary."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I needed that, ma'am."

Henry rolled his eyes, then realised Marshall was rolling his too. He quickly looked over his shoulder and caught the very end of Birch's matching roll. His DM followed it with an unimpressed look at Henry.

"Suck up," Henry muttered loudly, since the other two were too cowardly to just say it.

"Corner, Ru." Indira gave him a light swat to get moving, then turned very slowly to consider the other two brats.

Henry's stomach flipped.

Birch's hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped. "He's my mentoree. He ran out on my watch. I also owe him maintenance ..." It sounded suspiciously like the arguments he kept losing with Flick.

Indira didn't give Birch an inch. "Flick made them all my responsibility this evening. I should have known you'd be too distracted by your boyfriend to keep track of him. And you can maintain whatever's left of him once I'm finished."

"I can't take a cane to him after ..."

Indira tilted her head slightly.

Birch shut up.

"Do we need another conversation about who's on top, Brandon?"

He met her eyes with a brief defiance that seemed a little ... heated? Then Birch glanced at Henry and relaxed his posture. "No, ma'am. It's you. He can have this week's maintenance Monday."

"Good boy." Indira laid the switch on the desk and picked up a flogger. "Leon. On your back on the sofa."

Marshall hesitated. "Ma'am?"

"You know exactly what I'm asking." Indira twirled the strands of the flogger in a figure eight. "You saw the TATL alerts. You texted me saying they were safe and with you. You turned off your phone so I couldn't use your location to find them. Your dick got you into this trouble, it can take the punishment for it."

"You could save it for private? Please, ma'am? They can watch the one for hiding my location while out or for ignoring and disobeying your orders or ..."

"The only one that's relevant to them is aiding them in hiding from me. Which you did because getting your dick wet was more important than obeying your mistress. So, pet, what happens when you prioritise your pleasure over my demands?"

Marshall visibly gulped. "My dick gets whipped, ma'am."

Birch winced hard enough that Henry felt it.

"That's bullshit!" Henry didn't plan to say it, but it needed saying. "Yeah, me and Lamb went AWOL, but Sir had your permission to have a night out. Leave him al—"

"Enough!" Marshall's voice cracked like his belt had across Henry's backside. "If I really thought it was unfair or too much, I'd safe. This is the dynamic we negotiated, bunny. I'm obedient to her every order or I feel some hard consequences. This was what I knew to expect when I made the choice to ignore her. I just want to check in on your consent to watch."

"Green," Birch said, a little too fast. Creep.

"Ru?" Marshall kept looking right at Henry, waiting on his blessing.

"So not fair that you put me in the corner where I can't watch, but I'm totally up for listening," Lamb said.

Henry groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Sure, ask the sadists and they think it's great."

Marshall caught his wrist and pulled his hand out of the way so he could kiss him sweetly on the lips. "I think it's great too, bunny. When I haven't cum twice already. And getting to feel your mouth worshipping me again was so worth it. I'd take this every evening for a week if you were there to kiss it better."

The embarrassment that Henry had barely felt during the game was making up for lost time. He pulled away a bit. Birch was close enough behind his back that he felt trapped. It wasn't a bad feeling.

"Careful, Leon," Birch purred. "You'll give Indira ideas. And, Keen, if you don't want to watch, I can take you into the other room and see about getting you warmed up back here for your turn." He gave Henry's arse a firm pat.

"I'm plenty warm!" Henry snapped. "And I'm not arguing because I don't want to watch. I'm arguing because it isn't fair to —"

Marshall placed a finger over Henry's lips. "I'm fully green about it, little bunny. And unless you want me to get your dick out and give it a couple of lashes, you'll stop arguing." As he removed his finger, he brushed his knuckles softly against Henry's cheek. "I broke several of my rules tonight, love, it's fair. Do you need to go first, so you can be in the corner like Ru?"

Henry shook his head again. "Worse not to be able to see, sir."

"Good bunny, keep your eyes on me." Marshall booped his nose and backed off to the sofa. He didn't stop watching Henry as he unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall.

Indira reached out to smack Marshall's bottom lightly. "And there's the other reason we can't go with your other punishments, pet. Such a beautiful scarlet back here. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am. Completely." Marshall smirked as he borrowed Henry's earlier answer.

Birch shifted behind Henry. "How hard do you play, Leon?"

Marshall turned around to answer that question. The ten from Keller's paddle and the second dose after he'd lost had left him a rich dark red. Frye and a couple of the Hunters had put him over their knees too.

The noise Birch made was definitely interested. "How do you feel about canes?"

"Only felt one a couple of times for punishment." Marshall sat on the sofa, then twisted sideways to lift his legs and stretch them out flat. The seat part was long enough that even Flick didn't have to scrunch up much to lie down fully, as Henry had found out when he'd tried to get out of snuggles by asking to lay on the sofa. Cuddles had absolutely not been escaped.

"If you ever get curious ..."

Marshall rolled his eyes as he lay back. "I ever want an erotic caning, I promise you'll be first on my list, Brandon." He grabbed a cushion and arranged it over his stomach, defending his abdomen from stray flogger strands.

Indira gestured for him to lift up and pulled his underwear down when he obeyed. She was clinical about arranging his dick and Marshall clutched his defensive cushion in anticipation.

Henry found his hand gently gripped and held by Birch. He tried to pull away, but then his other hand was taken, Birch close behind him.

"Easy, Henry," Birch said softly, using his first name for the first time. "This is going to be a rough one. Seeing your Top punished is hard, I know. Just remember that he's taking this because he wanted you more than he wanted this not to happen." His fingers encircled Henry's wrists like cuffs and Henry relaxed against him.

Indira stepped back and swept the flogger down. Marshall's eyes went wide and he made a choked noise.

From what Henry had seen when she'd used the switch on Lamb, that wasn't her full strength. The flogger had been laid down just the wrong side of gentle, leaving red marks on Marshall's thighs all around the main point of impact. Some strands had definitely landed on the cushion too, much safer than risking his belly.

Marshall wasn't looking at Indira or the results of the first lash though. He lifted a hand and gave Henry a thumbs up. Even managed a smile.

Henry resisted the urge to pull free and go check Marshall was actually okay.

Good boy Marshall mouthed at him, right before it was echoed aloud by Birch.

"Good boy, see it's okay," Birch murmured in Henry's ear. "Just a spanking somewhere a bit more tender." One foot kicked Henry's stance a little wider. "Like how I'm planning on smacking your inner thighs, if Indira's willing to save them for me."

Henry winced. He knew for a fact that he'd do exactly the same thing again, even knowing it would end here, but it was still going to suck.

Marshall howled as the flogger lashed down again. He curled half upright, hands coming off the cushion to cup over his dick.

Indira put the flogger back down on the desk. "That's enough, pet. Lesson learned?"

He panted for a moment before answering. "I ... maybe, ma'am?"

She cupped the back of his neck and drew him up for a kiss. "Putting your boys' needs before mine isn't that naughty, Marsh. But letting them get away with blatant disobedience is. Being their Top is more than just playing around and making them feel good. With brats you need to be able to lay down the law too."

Marshall nodded. "Please don't ... I really can't right now. Not when we've only just ..."

"I understand and you don't need to discipline anyone tonight," Indira said. "We'll be sleeping here tonight. Go through to the bedroom, strip and kneel. Punishing you and your brats is getting me worked up and I think you should do something about that, don't you, pet?"

"Yes, ma'am," Marshall said, eager again. "But don't I get to watch ...?"

"No," Indira said firmly, confiscating his cushion. "You like watching Henry get spanked and not getting to is part of your punishment. Go."

Marshall got up, pulling his pants and trousers up just far enough that they wouldn't make it difficult to walk, but not over any sore parts. "Behave for her, bunny," he instructed. "Or you'll be sitting on a punishment mat at breakfast tomorrow. All those spikes on your cute, tender bottom and not even a cottontail to cushion it."

"Yes, sir." Henry was starting to recognise the difference between what Marshall did and actual discipline. Flick would put him on a punishment mat for being rude about someone's cooking. Marshall would put him on a punishment mat because seeing Henry squirming and wincing was hot. And Birch would do it so Henry wouldn't be rude in the first place.

Punishment, play and training.

He'd made the mistake of asking a Top who wanted the second for the third. Henry wasn't sure he was ready for fun. That seemed a lot scarier than bending over for Birch's cane or his mouth being washed out when he was rude in class. Somehow he'd actually avoided an in class spanking beyond a couple of swats over his trousers.

The door to Flick's bedroom closed behind Marshall and Birch marched Henry forward, positioning him in front of the arm Lamb had bent over.

"I can do it myself!" Henry snapped. "... Um, just ... Could I go to the loo first?"

"That a yellow request?" Birch asked, already reaching for his trousers.

Henry hesitated. Part of him wanted to show off.

"Keen? I'm asking if you really need the loo or if you're just embarrassed about us seeing that you had fun this evening," Birch clarified. He patted Henry's bottom. "If you want a shower to get rid of any evidence you bottomed, yellow and ask for it. There's no shame in wanting to draw that line. Just don't give us half-truths and lies."

"It's not ..." Henry hung his head. "I guess I'm green, sir."

"Enthusiastic consent only, Keen. Go on, bathroom, take your time." Birch stepped back completely.

With a frustrated groan, Henry instead reached for the fastening of his trousers. He turned to face Birch before yanking them down, along with his underwear.

Birch's eyebrow twitched very slightly upwards as he considered the cock cage Henry was wearing.

Keller's bonus punishment for whoever came first.

"Okay," Birch said after a moment. "That is none of my business. Your choice if you want your punishment while wearing it or if you want to step out to remove it?"

"I ... said green." Henry wasn't sure what to do about their complete lack of reaction. He'd expected at least a little teasing. Indira had only looked up once from where she was choosing an implement.

Birch took hold of Henry's shoulders and turned him around. "Then bend over. The state of your backside is a lot more important to this than anything going on in front." His hand brushed over the reddened cheeks, testing the temperature or how much it made Henry flinch. "Cute. Just enough that I can't safely use a pointer, but not so much that you can't have a paddling. Tell me, Keen, did you do this on purpose to deny me?"

"N-no, sir!" Birch hadn't been anywhere in Henry's thoughts while he'd been playing. "I really don't give a fuck about if you get to get off on punishing me or not. That's between you and your right hand. Which I believe you've nicknamed Joshua."

He got a swat for that, mostly noise and little pain. "Isn't he the cutest?" Birch asked Indira. "He gets mouthy when he's nervous."

Indira made a noncommittal noise. "Is that so? I've never seen him not be mouthy."

"Yeah, well, you make me nervous," Henry snapped, not a fan of being excluded from the conversation. "Ma'am."

"That's because you're sensible," Birch said and got swatted by Indira for it. He moved out of the way, legs coming into Henry's peripheral vision. "Would you like me to hold you down? I'm told you appreciate that."

"I don't!" Henry spluttered. "Who the fuck said that?!"

Birch crouched down so Henry could see his grin. "Flick, Tricia, Darius, Lamb, Indira, Marshall ..."

"You asked Marshall about me?"

"I got assigned as your mentor. I did my homework." Birch held out his hands. "Bondage gives you the freedom to struggle. I've got you."

Hesitantly, Henry laid his wrists in Birch's palms and was rewarded with them closing like handcuffs and a light rubbing against his pulse point from one thumb.

"Doesn't that feel better." Birch didn't make it a question, just a certainty that it did. "You were very naughty earlier, running away from me. Let's get that all sorted out. I'll be right here, providing control so you don't need to hold onto yours so tightly."

Indira cleared her throat. "Okay, Henry. You're a lovely red already, so I'm just going to use a bathbrush. Five for running away, five for turning off TATL, five for helping Reuben and five for your attitude and arguing."

Twenty didn't seem too bad, especially when the oval head of the brush rested against his bottom and turned out to be only slightly larger than a hairbrush. About the same width as Keller's paddle, but with half the length.

She did know Henry needed hard? Out of the Tops he knew, Indira was one he'd think least likely to go too easy on him.

Then the bathbrush swung up and back down and Henry reconsidered. He twisted enough to get a look at it. Sure the head was relatively small for a paddle, but the handle was long. A simple case of more leverage.

The one oval where it had landed burned like it had been seared into his flesh. Henry took a deep breath and put himself back into position.

"Good boy," Indira said, like she meant it. "It's always tricky to adjust to a new implement and this one is meaner than you'd think." The cool oval rested again, telling him where it was going to land. "You'll be aching all day tomorrow, even with arnica. And just when you think you can get away with sleeping on your back, Birch is going to show up and give you the maintenance you dodged today. Flick's not going to be happy that you caused trouble while he was taking one night off either. This little bottom should wave goodbye to sitting comfortably for a full week."

Henry relaxed even more as the bathbrush lifted again. Sitting comfortably was overrated. And an already sore bottom was pretty much the only thing he'd found helped his attitude from getting out of hand.

And if he played his cards right, Marshall might be willing to provide the punishment Henry needed for pushing him away.

Chapter Text

Meeting Birch's mothers had been awkward enough, especially since they apparently knew his mother. As always Bridget Tatham had been utterly unaware of what other people thought of her and Joshua was pretty sure Professor Quirt — Eliza, she'd insisted, but nope — had given him a few sympathetic looks as his mother talked at them.

But Quirt and Skelp were nice enough. And even if they didn't approve of Joshua's mother, they were willing to judge him on his own merit.

So that relationship milestone had been surprisingly easy to pass. Joshua had plenty of experience cringing and keeping quiet while his mother embarrassed them both.

And he already knew Chalk. Mostly as the guy who came in and dealt with Birch when he was being bratty and as the disciplinarian everyone wanted to avoid being sent to, but they'd had conversations. Ones in which Joshua was very careful to be polite and not at all cheeky, sure, but conversations.

He was mostly nervous about the sort of double date because he didn't know what it meant for his relationship with Birch, than because he was terrified of Chalk. Like, Chalk was scary, but scary hot.

Joshua tried not to read too much into their choice of restaurant. They were lifestylers, of course they'd choose a lifestyle friendly place. He was just being paranoid when he'd read the menu online and noticed that there was a discreet list of implements under the dessert options.

Birch had chosen his outfit, showing up with a gift box containing underwear that had made Joshua blush then rummaging through his wardrobe for his tightest jeans and a lavender button up. Once he was dressed to his Top's satisfaction, Birch had crowded Joshua back against his bed until he sat down.

They had kissed, Birch taking the lead as usual. When they'd finally broken apart, he'd glanced at his watch. "We should get going unless you want a spanking from Chalk for being late." He'd looked a little hopeful that Joshua might. "If he wasn't waiting, I wouldn't let you out the door looking so good without a sore bottom to remind you who owns you."

If he'd been scheduled to meet up with just Birch, Joshua might have wasted a bit more time, but he really didn't want to get on Chalk's bad side.

Birch had hung back in Joshua's room for a moment, then joined him in the dorm common area just as he was starting to get suspicious. The smirk was even more suspicious, but he'd refused to elaborate.

The restaurant wasn't as fancy as Joshua had feared, his buttoned shirt made him one of the more smartly dressed people there. Only Birch and Chalk were in more formal outfits and that was just the sort of thing they wore all the time.

Chalk grinned when he saw them, already at a table. He stood to give Birch a kiss and light swat. "On the dot, Brandy. Next time commit to early or late. I was just starting to anticipate putting you over my knee."

Birch was holding Joshua's hand and drew him forward to stand beside him. "Joshua insisted on punctuality, no matter how much I tried to drag my feet, master."

"Good boy," Chalk told Joshua, pointedly using the singular and not looking at Birch. "You look lovely, Joshua."

"Um, thank you, sir?" Joshua felt tiny next to Chalk, which was weird because it was Birch who was the unquestionable tallest. Chalk had a bit more bulk though, broader shoulders, even if he was only an inch or so taller than Joshua. He should probably offer a compliment in return, but all he could think about was how large Chalk's hands were.

"Sit, boys." Chalk gestured at the table as he returned to his seat.

Birch pulled out the seat opposite Chalk for Joshua. "I've got a portable mat in my bag," Birch told him as he sat. "Earn yourself a spanking during dinner and your bare bottom will be perched on silicone spikes."

Joshua gulped and grabbed a menu to hide behind.

Taking the seat at right angles to them both, Birch smiled softly at his Top and his Bottom. "One alcoholic drink only, Joshua. I want you clear-headed enough to consent to getting fucked tonight."

"Same rule for you, Brandon," Chalk said, off-handedly. "If you're topping, you get one glass of wine. If you're bottoming, any drink."

Birch laughed. "I'm not sure which way I'm going yet, sir. I'll go with wine to keep my options open."

Joshua stared at the menu, trying not to feel disappointed. What was this then? Was he supposed to compete with Chalk for who got to take Birch home?

A waitress approached their table. Joshua had half expected her uniform to leave her bare behind an apron, like the baristas occasionally were at the Wurst Brat when they were in trouble, but it seemed pretty normal for a restaurant. Black trousers, apron, white shirt. The only odd part was the thick leather collar emblazoned with the restaurant's name.

"Ready to order drinks?" she asked cheerfully.

"We're fully ready to order," Birch said, not having picked up a menu at all. "I'll have the stroganoff." He pointed at Chalk. "He'll be boring and have a burger with no cheese." Birch switched to pointing at Joshua. "And he'll be surprised by how much he enjoys the goulash."

The what? Joshua just nodded when the waitress looked at him for confirmation.

Chalk shut his menu. "Brandon. That's one warning, you know what that means." He smiled at the waitress. "Joshua, are you sure about that order? Any drink?"

Joshua shrugged. "I'm not fussy. And, uh, maybe?" He turned over the menu looking for a list of soft drinks.

Birch leaned forward. "Two ginger beers."

"Brandon!" Chalk looked ready to use the hardcovered menu to paddle him.

"It's okay," Joshua said quickly. "Thank you, sir."

Birch raised an eyebrow at Chalk. "I know what my boy likes. And what you want, sir."

Chalk sighed. "Water for the table too and a small glass of red wine. That's all, thank you."

The waitress smiled and gathered up their menus before walking away.

"I was serious about that warning, Brandy," Chalk said calmly. "You were being rude and showing off. And you were almost late."

Birch stood up and quickly undid his trousers, letting them fall. The black lace pants he was wearing underneath did very little to cover him and perfectly matched the pair he'd put Joshua in. "Any excuse to get me naked in public, sir." He sat down and crossed one leg over the other. The fact he was half hard didn't seem to phase him at all.

"Those are new," Chalk commented. "Special occasion?"

"Think hard, master, and maybe you'll work out if it is or isn't." Birch turned to Joshua. "I'm sorry, sunshine. I should have asked before ordering for you."

Joshua shrugged. "I've never ... really ..." His face heated up and he fiddled with the tablecloth.

Birch took hold of his hand, cradling it gently. "There's no shame in it, love, I promise. Whatever it is."

"Never chosen for myself from a menu," Joshua mumbled, utterly unconvinced by the no shame claim.

"Fuck." Birch sounded actually distressed. "Look, it's not too late, I'll call her back and —"

Joshua scowled at him. "Don't you dare make a stupid fuss about it. I'll try the ... what was it?"

"Goulash." Birch squeezed Joshua's hand. "But next time you're choosing your own meal. Whatever you want. I'll get it for you, to make up for this."

"Brandon, let him breathe." Chalk leaned over and pinched Birch's bare thigh. "The way you're behaving, I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to list dinner dates as a hard limit." He gave Joshua a sympathetic smile. "He does this. Plans out dates beforehand like a military plan and forgets to ask for other people's input. He knows exactly how he wants this night to go and I've learned it's easiest to just let him direct."

Birch shrugged one shoulder. "Easiest, yes, but he never takes that route. I've had to start planning the spankings into it."

Joshua's eyes were drawn down to his Top's lap. Would he put him over his knee while his trousers were down? They'd done spanking while both were naked, but this was Birch experiencing discipline.

"Sure, I'll eat the lashed goo," Joshua said, bratty curiosity rising. "But if I don't like it, I'll throw a tantrum. Screaming, crying, a real big scene in the middle of this nice restaurant."

Birch grinned, but it was Chalk that responded. "If you do that, little boy, you'll get a real big spanking in the middle of this nice restaurant." His eyes raked over Joshua. "And if you were mine, that threat would have earned you a warning, just like Brandy got."

Joshua swallowed. He didn't dare look at Birch. "Green," he said, softly, but with certainty.

Chalk's lips parted slightly, before he spoke in a far sharper tone. "Stand up for me, Joshua."

They might not have scened together directly, but Joshua knew Chalk's style. Stern was his playful. Gentle meant he was about to unleash hell upon at least one very unfortunate arse.

Trying to match Birch's smirk as he watched them both, Joshua stood up. His bottom clenched instinctively.

Chalk looked him over again, lingering on the slight bulge in his trousers. "Unbutton your jeans."

Joshua undid his fly, wincing at how loud the zip sounded against the quiet chatter and scrape of cutlery on plates.

"Naughty," Chalk said. "You wait for my orders, Joshua. You don't anticipate them. Now you've been told that explicitly, you can expect punishment if you can't be patient."

"You were going to tell me to unzip next," Joshua argued. He pulled his jeans down, without waiting for the instruction.

Chalk's breath hitched. "I ..." He cleared his throat. "I see, Brandon. Yes, I'd say this counts as a special occasion. Joshua, I literally just told you there would be consequences. Would you like them from me or from Brandy?"

"I disobeyed you, sir," Joshua pointed out.

"I'm going to come around the table, lean you forward and give you a hard swat on each of your buttocks," Chalk told him. "Colour?"

"Green," Joshua said, like it was obvious. "You're a Top, sir. You could do that without asking."

"On campus I can," Chalk corrected. "We're not on campus right now, so I'm going to ask your consent every step." He stood, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt.

Joshua leaned against the table, sticking his bottom out provocatively. The underwear left his cheeks bare with just a thin thong running between them. "I'm green all the way, sir."

Chalk paused behind him. "Clarify that statement, boy."

Birch met Joshua's eyes and nodded encouragingly.

"I mean, if Birch has me trying new things I'd like one of those new things to be you, sir." Joshua trembled slightly at the gentle hand that cupped his backside.

Chalk squeezed slowly, but kept going until his fingers dug in painfully. "Brandon ..." His voice had gone dangerously soft.

Birch raised his hands, the picture of accused innocence. "I didn't plan this, honestly. My version required a lot more nudging in that direction before you worked out you were both interested. But, yeah, I sincerely hoped I'd be taking you both home tonight."

"Hm. So, you didn't just order Joshua to seduce me?" Chalk's grip was still tightening.

Joshua let out a pained gasp. "He didn't! I don't even know how to!"

Chalk let go suddenly. Before Joshua could rub the spot, his hand came crashing down flat for the first of the promised swats. It felt more like a paddle, much harder than any other hand he'd been spanked by. The second followed, not quite matching the soreness in both his cheeks, what with the squeeze, but Joshua's knees went weak.

"You're doing an amazing job at seduction for someone who claims not to know how," Chalk scolded. "You'd better sit down, unless you'd like more?"

Joshua considered. Hard as they'd been, those swats had still felt very good. He wanted more, but the game was to properly earn them.

While he was deliberating, the waitress returned with their drinks. She seemed completely unfazed by two of them being down to their underwear or the fact Joshua had to have clear handprints on his bottom.

She gave them that practiced customer service smile. "Your food shouldn't be too long, gentlemen. There are handwash stations next to the napkins and condiments, so you can quickly and easily clean up between discipline and eating."

Embarrassed, Joshua sat down and stared at his drink.

"Thank you, ma'am," Chalk said. "I'll, uh, just ..." He headed over to the sink she'd indicated, looking just as embarrassed as Joshua felt.

The waitress smiled again and left.

Birch swapped the ginger beer in front of him for the wine Chalk had ordered and took a sip. "Too hard?" he asked. "Dominic never holds back, even when it's play. Don't worry, he won't be offended."

Joshua shook his head, as Chalk returned to the table. "It felt great, actually." He tried to tug his lavender shirt down to cover his packer, visible through the black lace as definitely not a real dick. "I just sort of forgot we were in public, until she ... um ... Can I yellow?"

"Always, sunshine." Birch leaned forward attentively or maybe just to get a look at what he was trying to hide.

"I'd like to be wearing trousers?" Joshua swung his foot nervously. "I know it's supposed to be a punishment, but I'd rather ..."

"Alternative penalty or do you just want to opt out?" Birch asked.

"What sort of alternative penalty?" Joshua couldn't keep the suspicion out of his voice.

"The kind we have to wait until we get home to give you." Birch pulled that counting clicker thing he tormented Henry with. "I'll start counting your little naughtinesses on this and you can go over Master Chalk's lap for as many smacks as you earn."

Chalk's mouth twitched in amusement. "You can get dressed whenever you like, Joshua. Thank you for letting us know your limits."

Joshua didn't fully stand, just lifted his hips as he pulled his trousers back up. He glanced sideways to where Birch was still lounging comfortably. "I'm green on the counter, sir."

Birch clicked it quickly twice. "Brave boy. I'm going to be strict with this, okay. Every missed sir, every tiny hint of brattiness, every failure to wait for orders. This evening, you belong completely to us and I'm not going to be satisfied until you've been spanked to orgasm and a good way further by my Master."

They'd played that way before, upping Birch's definition of disobedience until Joshua could hardly breathe without earning himself another swat, but it had always been with immediate consequences. And Chalk hit a lot harder.

Shifting in his chair to really feel the ache of just two swats and a little rough handling, Joshua nodded.

Another two clicks. "Verbal answers, sunshine. And a nice, loud, sincere sir with it."

"Yes, sir," Joshua said, still contemplating the tablecloth and his glimpse of Birch's bare thigh. He could feel Chalk looking at him. All the bratty courage that had allowed him to say exactly what he wanted had evaporated.

He took a sip of his drink for something to do. It was less sweet than he'd predicted, burning his mouth a little. Maybe it was just that he was already turned on, but it sent a wave of heat through his stomach.

Across the table, Chalk matched his sip, eyes fluttering closed and following it with a soft moan. For half a second, Joshua thought he was making fun of him, but it didn't sound entirely faked. More exaggerated, maybe, but encouraging? Letting him know it was okay to have that reaction.

Birch was the one who laughed, but it was delighted, rather than mocking. "I'll need to introduce you to ginger in other places, sunshine," he grinned. "See if you like it as much when it's burning up inside your hole."

Joshua was certain that he was blushing bright enough that he could double as a stoplight.

"Brandon," Chalk was playfully stern still. "Next time we go on one of these dates, I'm plugging you and upping the vibrations every time you embarrass our poor little boy." Despite his words, his eyes then flickered over to Joshua. "And I wouldn't want you to feel left out. You can have one too."

All Joshua could manage in response was a choking noise.

Birch eagerly clicked the counter another two times. "Show some gratitude, Joshua."

"Thank you, sirs," Joshua mumbled. "But ... like, is that allowed?"

They exchanged a look, then Birch leaned close. "Sunshine, I guarantee half the subs in here have something inside them or are in chastity. I told you to look up this place before we went, that shouldn't be a surprise."

"I looked at the menu," Joshua protested. "What else is there to even look up?"

"Maybe the fact this place caters to public humiliation?" Birch wasn't clicking his counter as he scolded, this was apparently a genuine screw up on Joshua's part. He gestured at another table where one of the diners was kneeling on a pad on the floor and being hand fed by one of the Tops on chairs.

Joshua hadn't even registered that as weird. There were usually a few brats who'd lost being at the table privileges in the cafeteria. He'd stared the first few times, but it had faded into the normal background of Bratford. Just like the bare red bottoms that often occupied the corners of rooms and corridors.

Still, looking around he saw Birch's point. A few other diners were down to their underwear, trousers crumpled around their ankles. One Bottom had a pair of what looked like boxing gloves chained to their wrists and was relying on their Top to feed them bites of food from a shared fork. Another had been pulled over their Top's lap and was wriggling under a proper spanking, the end of a plug visible between their cheeks.

Watching that for a moment even though it wasn't particularly interesting, Joshua eventually turned back to Birch with an attempt at a raised eyebrow. "When did you last eat at the cafeteria, sir?"

"Basically never," Birch said. "It's crowded and the food is bad."

"My dorm eats there at least once a week. More if whoever's responsible for dinner creates something inedible. This —" Joshua indicated their surroundings. "— is the toned down version of that. Give me a pair of pants that cover my dick, a properly sore bottom and a punishment mat and that's honestly how I spend dinner most days. Even when we're all eating at the dorm, we get enough visitors that this isn't an unusual number of people to be 'humiliated' in front of." He did the air quotes gesture, to really let Birch know he wasn't impressed.

Birch had been one of those visitors plenty of times. He'd definitely seen Joshua brat at Flick or Sadie or Keller or Birch himself for a little attitude adjustment.

"I thought ..." Birch raised the counter, but didn't click it. "... when you safed?"

Joshua adjusted himself on the chair, chasing the fading ache. "I like the lace, sir. It feels nice against my skin and you look hot enough in it that I can believe I look good too, but it wasn't until I was on display that I realised it didn't hide that my dick isn't real. That's what I don't want to show off. I liked the rest."

Birch groaned softly. "I should have thought of that, sunshine. I'm sorry."

Chalk leaned across the table. "So, would you like to do something else to make it obvious you're ours? Like bondage or kneeling?"

"Those are things to try in private first," Birch insisted.

Joshua nodded at them both. "I'd like something, since you brought me here to, um, I guess humiliate me? But we haven't..."

Chalk held up his hand to quiet him. "With me, boy."

Nervous, but excited, Joshua got up and walked around to Chalk's side. The Top grabbed Birch's satchel bag — a proper classic tooled leather that was pure old-fashioned schoolboy — on his way past. Implements, Joshua assumed, as Chalk led him to a door at the side of the restaurant. Where most vanilla places would have a toilet and maybe a disabled toilet with a baby changing station, the little stick figure on this one was bent over the lap of a larger stick figure that was lifting its hand over the bottom of the smaller.

He didn't dare look around to see if anyone was watching them go in, but anyone who was paying attention would definitely think he was in trouble. That was an exciting enough claim all on its own.

The room was pretty empty. Three pieces of furniture. A wide armless chair, a waist high desk and an A-frame where someone could stand for access to their back as well as buttocks.

Chalk swept across to take a seat on the chair. He beckoned.

Joshua took one hesitant step forward. "Um, what am I going to be punished for, sir?"

"You're not in trouble," Chalk reassured him. "And I'm going to save spanking your cute bottom until later, when we can all three properly enjoy it. But I had an idea for something to make you feel that humiliation." He reached into Birch's bag and pulled out Joshua's dick.

The one they used for sex. It was a realistic size and colour and strapped onto Joshua in basically the right place.

Well, now he knew what Birch had been doing in his room when he'd hung back.

Chalk raised an eyebrow. "I want to get you hard and leave you like that through dinner. Under your trousers, so all they'll think is that you're turned on. And to actually turn you on, a small vibrating plug. How does that sound?"

Joshua raised an eyebrow right back. "Did Birch tell you he was bringing my dick? He order you to seduce me?"

"More like begged," Chalk admitted. "I might have let him go down on me, even though all the convincing I really needed was permission. You're a beautiful, bratty boy, Joshua. Any Top would be incredibly lucky to have your submission. May I take it?"

That statement was genuinely more embarrassing than the idea of being hard in front of other people. Joshua crossed the room to stand in front of Chalk. "Green, sir."

"That's my good boy." Chalk drew him further forward to stand right between his spread legs, then took the protective sheath off the strap-on. "Hands on the back of your neck."

Joshua laced his fingers behind his head as Chalk easily undid his trousers with one hand. They slid down.

"This lace really is lovely," Chalk commented, cupping the front of Joshua's underwear like he could actually feel it. "Brandon knew just how to wrap you up to make me want to do the unwrapping." He gently scooped Joshua's packer out of them, then tucked it into the sheath the strap-on was stored in when not in use.

It was impossible to hold back a shiver as his lace underwear was slid down too. Joshua believed he could trust Chalk, but it was never easy to be perceived where everything felt so wrong. He spread his legs a little wider and whimpered when he felt the touch of the curved under end between them.

"Hold this where it feels best, boy," Chalk ordered. "I want to be able to stroke your dick and know you're feeling it in your sweet spot."

Joshua glanced over his shoulder. The door to the spanking room didn't lock. Presumably the risk of being walked in on was part of the public humiliation theme. He reached his hand down and adjusted the strap-on until the end that wasn't formed into a reasonably accurate penis was pressed hard against his clit.

Chalk did up the straps for him, wrapping them firmly around his legs and waist and cinching them securely. Once he was done, he turned Joshua to the side and gave his bottom a smack. The harness jolted, rubbing him between his legs, but it stayed on. The next smack was directly to the dildo that jutted up obscenely in front of him.

"Sir!" Joshua's voice went falsetto high as he clenched around the slightly intruding bulb.

"It's perfectly natural, boy," Chalk told him. "When Brandon sees you, he'll be straining in his lace too. Do you think you can take a vibrator too?"

Joshua shook his head. "I'll cum, sir. And unless you have a spare pair of trousers in that bag, it'll just be the not fun kind of embarrassing."

He shivered as Chalk ran a finger along his crack, pushing it slightly open. "I'm looking forward to experimenting with that, boy. Brandy says you're beautiful when you fall apart."

"You'll have to punish him for exaggeration," Joshua said.

Chalk laughed and gave him another incredibly hard swat on his bottom. It truly felt as though Joshua had taken them from Drubber's class paddle instead of a hand. The only difference was that Chalk made it feel good as well as painful. Joshua wanted more, but that was another risk of getting him off.

"Or ..." Chalk said slowly, reaching down to start pulling Joshua's pants back up. "... I'll have to punish you for lying to me."

"I haven't —!"

"Hush. If you're beautiful when you cum — and you're beautiful right now, so I can't imagine that's going to change for anything but the better during — then your little self-depreciating joke just now was a lie and I'll punish you as such." He carefully eased the lace over Joshua's dick. It stretched like it had been assumed that it would need to contain an erection.

"But ..." Joshua began another argument.

"I take lying very seriously, little boy. You'll be feeling a strap across your sweet little bottom for it." Chalk unnecessarily rearranged the underwear, tugging at the waist so Joshua felt it draw tight against his hole.

He gasped at the friction. "I just meant ..."

"You meant that you don't believe you're beautiful." Chalk reached down for Joshua's jeans and drew them up too. "Insulting my boys is a strapping offence in its own right. I'm willing to give you just one to cover both, but keep trying to argue and I might change my mind." He leaned forward, just before he zipped up the jeans, and pressed a kiss to the end of Joshua's dick. "I love that you're a cheeky brat, but I won't tolerate you disguising self-deprication as sass. That will get you a serious punishment every time."

Joshua's jeans barely closed over the dildo. Flesh might have fit better, but he winced at the thought of it pressing against the zipper like that. He looked down, stomach squirming at the very obvious bulge.

Chalk stroked him through his trousers and Joshua made a tiny pleading noise as the other end rubbed against his clit. Birch never played with his dick much, preferring to tease his hole and play with his arse. Just as effective at turning Joshua on, but he liked Chalk's teasing too.

He wasn't sure which he preferred yet. That would take a lot more experimentation.

"Look at you," Chalk said, leaning back so Joshua could see that he had a more natural, but no less visible, tent in his own trousers. "If you let us take you home after dinner, we're going to really make you feel how beautiful we find you like this."

"I ... Yes, sir. Thank you." Joshua adjusted his dick slightly, a bit hypnotised by the way it looked so plausible. As far as anyone who hadn't clocked him as trans would know, they'd gone into the spanking room and Chalk had got him hard and was leaving him like that as a punishment.

Chalk stood up and turned Joshua towards the door, then gave his bottom a quick grope and lighter smack. Around the same strength Birch used for actual discipline. "This is going to be smacked bright red and filled up with two hard cocks later," he promised. "You'll need more training before you're ready for double penetration, but we can go one at a time. If you behave well enough that neither of us need to bring you back in here for an actual spanking, you can choose the order we take you."

Joshua peeked back over his shoulder. "Would you want to go first or second, sir?"

"Second," Chalk told him, putting a hand in the middle of Joshua's lower back and steering him towards the door. "I want to watch you writhe and moan as Brandy opens you up for me. And deny him the satisfaction of watching us while he's turned on enough to appreciate it."

"That makes sense, sir." Joshua nodded firmly. "I'll choose for you to go first then."

Chalk's hand swung for his bottom yet again, but Joshua danced out of the way. "Little brat," Chalk said, narrowing his eyes. "Come back here and take double the swats for dodging."

Joshua grinned at Birch as he stepped back into the line of fire and pushed his bottom out.

Birch's eyes went to Joshua's crotch, his smirk widening at what he saw there.

Chalk pushed Joshua down a little further by his shoulder. "Keep taking risks, little boy. I won't go easier on you later just because you've bratted your way into a sore bottom already."

"I think this counts," Birch said, grabbing his bag back from Chalk and pulling out the rolled up punishment mat. He quickly spread it over Joshua's chair, the thick yellow spikes reminiscent of Toblerone.

"It absolutely doesn't," Joshua insisted as the first of Chalk's warning swats landed. "You just want to be mean to me."

Birch nodded, as he clicked the counter. "Obviously, sunshine. That's why I brought you here to be publicly humiliated by my Top. If you didn't love mean, we wouldn't work as a couple. And don't forget those sirs."

Joshua whined at the second smack and decided it was safest not to lie. "I'd like meaner."

"Another two swats," Chalk decided, as Birch clicked that counter again.

Joshua was beaming by the time he was allowed to sit down on the punishment mat and told to spread his legs so the state of his dick was as obvious as possible to anyone who looked his way. Bit more than they could get away with on campus outside the exhibition gallery.

After all that, the food could be awful and Joshua would still rate the restaurant as one of his favourite places.

When it arrived, all on a paddle shaped serving tray, the goulash proved delicious. And Chalk and Birch only gave him more clicks of the counter for stealing bites from their plates.

They decided against dessert, of the sweet or kinky varieties available, but only because they had plenty at home.

Chapter Text

Things were going suspiciously well.

Playing with Indira fulfilled whatever bratty side Sadie had and she found herself able to take more control the rest of the time. Most of the snide comments from her classmates had stopped.

Most.

Midway through their Topping lesson with Professor Skelp, a piece of paper bounced off Sadie's spine.

She pointedly ignored it.

A few minutes later another piece arrived.

Sadie didn't even turn to see who was throwing it. Like brats, bullies just wanted any reaction. If she had the authority to discipline them, she'd have taken her hairbrush to Spooner's backside weeks ago.

The third note dropped neatly over her shoulder and onto her desk.

She might not be willing to get down on the floor to find out whatever insult they were trying to convey, but this one could be opened while maintaining her dignity. The smart thing to do would be leave it unread and drop it in the rubbish bin on her way out of class. Instead, she uncrumpled the paper.

A surprisingly good drawing of Sadie in a maid's uniform bent over Spooner's knee, her skirt raised and bottom bared for a spanking. Cherry Namgung's art, Sadie was pretty sure. Namgung shared some classes with Joshua and Albert, even though they were doing more digital stuff.

Calmly, Sadie tore the picture in half, then quarters. Again and again until it was little more than a handful of confetti.

It was kind of pathetic how much effort the pair of them were putting in just to make Sadie feel small for a few seconds.

Down at the front of the class, Professor Skelp tapped her pointer against the smartboard. It left a squiggle of 'pen' that her TA at the computer quickly deleted. "Last lesson you came up with these examples of when further negotiation might be necessary and they're all excellent, but I noticed they were all negotiations between Top and Bottom. Therefore we'll be covering Top/Top negotiation today. Can anyone give an example of when that might be necessary? ... Spooner?"

"When a Top is lying about her dynamic and is actually a bratty little Switch?" Spooner suggested.

There were a couple of giggles, but a lot more groans.

Skelp's eyebrow rose. "First, it's polite to believe people when they tell you their dynamic. A brat might lie in the moment to try and get out of trouble, but, secondly, that would be another example of Top/Bottom negotiation. Not what I asked for. ... Wax?"

"If a Brat who belonged to someone else is bratting at you and you have to ask permission to punish them?"

Her TA, a tall redhead by the name of Regina MacLean who occasionally hung out with Flick, had already brought up a clean board, so Skelp wrote Wax's contribution as 'asking permission to punish someone else's brat' up on it.

"Keller?"

"I'm in a Top/Top relationship, ma'am," Keller told her, glancing across to see if Spooner had anything to say about that. "That takes a lot of negotiation, pretty much non-stop. I could try and narrow it down, but if I listed everything individually it'd take the entire lesson."

Skelp nodded and wrote down 'Top/Top relationships' and 'shared Brat responsibility'. She put the pen aside and tapped that last one with her pointer. "You'll find that it's rarely as simple as one Brat to one Top. A Brat can have a romantic relationship with one Top, a mentorship with another, a dorm prefect with disciplinary rights, a casual accountability arrangement with a friend, an older sibling also attending this university and be in trouble with someone else entirely. In that situation, who exactly is responsible for punishing the Brat and who is it appropriate to ask for permission?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question, but a couple of students raised their hands anyway.

"Mortimer?" Skelp picked one of them out.

The girl, sporting an ash blonde pixie cut, lowered her hand before answering. "The mentor takes priority, ma'am. According to the official rule book at least. The only people who can override a disciplinary decision made by a mentor are teachers, certain university staff like the DM point of contacts and the Brat themself by safewording."

"That's bullshit," Spooner burst out. "The romantic relationship should be more important! The person the Brat chose."

Skelp cleared her throat. "Mortimer, that's true for official offences. The sort of thing that needs recording, like instances of academic plagiarism or a Top mistreating a Brat. But you don't need to consult the rulebook for every little offence. There's nothing in there that will help you decide how to respond to a Brat tipping the contents of a pepper pot into your juice in the cafeteria."

Sadie grinned to herself. That example wasn't hypothetical. Edward Lawrence was in one of her history modules and she hadn't been there to see it go down, but she'd seen exactly how uncomfortably he was sitting in class the day after.

"And Spooner, you make a valid point. The Brat's decision should be taken into consideration. But, next time, make the point after you've been given permission to speak. That's one warning."

Regina made a note of it as Spooner scowled. Three warnings and she'd be called down to the front for immediate punishment. One or two would be dealt with at the end of the lesson with a much smaller audience, but it was guaranteed Spooner would feel Skelp's hand on her backside, even if she was on her very best behaviour until the bell rang.

Skelp didn't believe in letting naughtiness go unpunished, even the minor stuff.

"I want you to split into pairs," Skelp instructed.

The class eyed each other suspiciously. After that lesson where they'd had to spank each other, there was an understandable nervousness about being told to pair up.

"And one three," Skelp added, after quickly checking the numbers. "You're going to be given one of three scenarios and assigned a relationship to the theoretical Brat. In your pairs, negotiate how you're going to handle their discipline. Go."

Sadie glanced around. Keller and Landon were paired up, but they headed towards her. They were usually good with including her when trios were an option. 

Then she caught Spooner's eye and the other girl smirked at her.

Gathering her notebook and pencil case, Sadie swivelled her chair to join the students right behind her. Cherry Namgung raised her eyebrows.

Spooner smirked even more. Smug. "Ready to be a good girl for me, Burns?"

"Not at all," Sadie retorted. "Let's keep this professional. Negotiate Top to Top."

Professor Skelp cleared her throat. "Are you sure about this group, girls?"

Sadie turned to her, back stiff. "Negotiating with your closest friend in the class is easy, ma'am. In real life, it's more likely that you'll need to have this discussion with someone you don't know well or have a conflict with."

"True." Skelp placed the piece of paper with the details of their example case on the desk. "Which is why next lesson your pairs will be assigned randomly. For today, Burns, I want you elsewhere."

"I can handle Spooner, ma'am," Sadie protested, just as Spooner said much the same thing about her.

"Move, Burns," Skelp ordered. "I'm sure you each think you could top the other, but if neither of you are willing to back down, I'll be handling you both before the end of the lesson."

"I don't want to top her," Sadie argued. "I just ..."

"You're just going to shift your chair along to join Landon and Keller," Skelp spoke over her. "Now. Last chance before your pants come down."

Blushing furiously, Sadie moved along.

Keller gave her a knowing look. "Baiting Spooner is only going to make it worse," he advised, quietly. "Without a mediator, Skelp's right, she'll refuse to take you seriously and you'll lose your temper. You'd both end up spanked and no closer to a resolution."

Sadie rolled her eyes at him, annoyed that he was right. Without anyone enforcing this roleplay, there was nothing to make Spooner engage with her as a Top.

Skelp gave them their assigned scenario. She gave Sadie a warning look. "Keller, you're the Disciplinary Mentor for this hypothetical brat. Burns, dorm mentor. Landon, romantic partner and Top. Read carefully before you start negotiating. Once you have a solution you all agree on, raise your hands and I'll come talk it through with you."

Keller turned the paper so the other two could read and twisted his head awkwardly to do the same.

Apparently their brat had been grounded by their dorm prefect, but snuck out to go on dates with their romantic partner. They'd been caught out when they'd slipped out of the tree they were climbing down to get out of the dorm and twisted their ankle. No mention of a mentor, since it was designed as a two person negotiation, but from their friendship with — that wasn't the right term — their knowing Henry, a DM was expected to step in for pretty much all major misbehaviour and putting themself in danger definitely counted.

Landon leaned back in his chair once he'd finished reading. "Yeah, no, you guys got this. They're not even in trouble with me."

Sadie raised an eyebrow at him, just as she heard Spooner's voice loudly start expanding on her belief that the romantic partner had complete authority in every aspect of their Bottom's life. Sounded like she had exactly that same prompt as them and was in the same role as Landon.

Keller shook his head. "So, you've got no opinion on your sub putting themself in danger to see you? You're going to shrug and let them think that's acceptable?"

"It was Sadie's rule they broke," Landon pouted. "And DMs are like contractually obliged to bust their mentorees' arses. You two duke it out. I think either of you can do a good enough job and I can sit back and wait for my brat to come crying to me for comfort. Ta very much for giving me something to kiss better."

Sadie cleared her throat. "Tell me if this is too mean, but I think they should get something from each of us. This is a serious offence. I'm less concerned with the sneaking out than the putting themself in danger. I'll start the grounding over, make sure they follow it for however long I decided, but the only part I'm spanking for is the climbing."

Keller was nodding. "It's mean, but it's the best way to make them see that we all care about their safety and aren't going to compromise on it. I'd probably go lighter than if they hadn't been actually injured, but they're not avoiding a trip over my knee. Landon?"

He rolled his eyes. "I guess. Sure. I thought we were supposed to argue about which one of us got to smack the brat, but if Skelp goes for it, whatever."

All around the classroom other pairs were going by Landon's assumption. Some of the arguments were getting quite passionate.

Spooner had quickly yelled Namgung into submission and threw her hand up, smug about being the first to finish.

Sadie frowned. "I feel like we're missing something," she said. "Like, just agreeing feels like we're cheating."

Keller grinned. "Or it means we're good at communication." He raised his hand. "If Skelp tells us we have to pick one person, so be it, but all she said was how we were going to handle discipline."

Professor Skelp gave them a nod of acknowledgement as she went to Spooner and Namgung first.

Spooner glared at Sadie as she spoke to the teacher. "I'm going to thrash the brat for getting injured. A hard session with a switch should teach them to be more respectful of trees in future."

"Mhm. And the breaking their grounding?" Skelp turned to Namgung. "Anything there?"

"No," Spooner cut in. "Namgung should know better than to keep me and my brat apart. Whatever it was that got them grounded, tell me and I'll decide if they deserve punishment."

"Okay. That's one solution. Namgung, do you agree with this?"

Namgung hesitated, then shook her head. "No, ma'am. The brat chose Spooner as their Top. Spooner has final authority."

Skelp smiled. "Okay. I want you to swap roles and try this negotiation again. See if you come to the same conclusion in reverse."

Spooner's mouth dropped open in offended pique. Namgung winced.

"No!" Spooner snapped as Skelp started to turn away. "We negotiated and I won. I'm not going to lose just because you tell me to!"

"It's very telling that you see this as something to win, Spooner," Skelp remarked. "There isn't a right answer here. Perhaps I should have left Burns with you. She wouldn't back down just because you got aggressive. Negotiate as the dorm prefect and I'll decide if I can accept your answer as fairly discussed. And that's your second warning."

"You didn't give Burns an official warning for refusing a direct order!" Spooner's fists were clenched.

"I would have spanked her immediately for it, if she hadn't obeyed. But perhaps that was an oversight." Skelp turned to Sadie. "Burns, what do you think?"

There might not be a right answer to the scenario, but there was to that question.

Sadie twisted her hands together in her lap. "You did need to warn me, ma'am. Making it an official one makes sense. If I'd been standing, you'd have swatted me, I'm sure."

Thoroughly undermined, Spooner visibly slumped. "Fine. Whatever."

Skelp moved the few steps to properly talk with Sadie's group. She briefly squeezed Sadie's shoulder as she passed, letting her know she'd done the right thing to de-escalate the situation. "And what have you decided?"

Keller sat up straighter to answer. "We, um, we're all going to discipline the brat, ma'am. To — how did you put it Sadie? Show we all care about their safety." It was nice of him to credit her with his own words, but Sadie would have preferred he hadn't.

"That's how you put it," Sadie reminded him. "I just said that we all needed to contribute. Breaking the grounding is sort of a minor thing, I'd just start the timer on it over and be a lot more vigilant in enforcing it. The dangerous behaviour is what I'd spank for. My hand with a few at the end with a hairbrush or light paddle."

"Landon?" Skelp asked.

He shrugged. "I kinda felt it wasn't my responsibility, but Keller pointed out that could send the message that I don't mind if they do dangerous shi— stuff for me. So, yeah, I'd get a paddle out once Sadie had her turn."

Keller smiled at his best friend. "Then I'd do the harsh DM thing and add a switching on top. We'd each do our own aftercare and three punishments right after one another should be enough to make anyone think twice about doing the thing again."

Landon shoved his friend lightly. "Shuddup."

Spooner leaned over, obviously having been listening in. "Hey, Landon, didn't you get yourself switched, paddled and strapped in the same day for throwing frogs around?"

"I didn't throw any of them," Landon huffed. "Fuck off."

"Warning for language," Skelp said, sounding disappointed.

"You can fuck off too." Landon slapped his hand over his mouth as he realised what he'd said.

Skelp gestured for him to get up and follow her.

Around the room chatter died down as Landon squeezed between the desks and headed to the chair Skelp kept in the middle of the clear space at the front of the class. It didn't obscure the view of the smartboard, but it was an ominous presence nonetheless.

"Bottom bare and hands on the seat," Skelp ordered.

Sadie didn't think it was entirely fair. If swearing at a fellow student got him a warning, saying exactly the same thing to a teacher should be a warning too.

Landon didn't argue. The back of his neck turned pink with embarrassment as he undid his trousers and yanked them down. He kept staring straight ahead, probably pretending the class wasn't there as he bent stiffly, bracing against the seat. The position seemed to come naturally to him, but Sadie knew that ease came from his first month where he'd tested every boundary he could find. Landon might be a Top, but he was also a bit of a Brat.

If Spooner had started her crusade to convince Landon he actually wanted a Top, Sadie might have understood the logic.

"Jealous?" Spooner hissed at Sadie as Skelp approached Landon's bare bottom with the class paddle. "A little bratting and it could be you up there with everyone examining your pretty bottom as it gets turned pink."

"Ignore her," Keller advised Sadie. "She's not worth it and if she keeps being a bitch, she's the one who's getting a public smacking." He shifted his chair back from the desk and turned to look at Spooner. "Erin, if you want a less tolerant Top to brat at, there's room over my lap for you."

Spooner looked more offended than when she'd been told to fuck off. She rallied when the first smack of paddle made Landon gasp. "You're not a proper Top either, Oscar," she snapped, weaponising his first name too. "What's the name of your master? I heard they keep your balls in a vice."

Keller didn't stop smiling. "If I had balls, I'd let Tammy keep them wherever she wanted. But we're definitely both Tops. We play Mummy and Daddy to a darling Little boy who tests nearly as much as you do. Last chance to drop the subject before I assume you're asking for a warmed bottom and a suck on Ow's dummy." He pulled the modified ball gag out of his pocket to show her what he meant.

"I ..." Spooner glanced nervously at the gag, then searched Keller's expression for any hint he was bluffing. She didn't find any and lapsed into silence. Not even a parting glare at Sadie.

Landon's paddling was over a moment later, only a handful of swats. A lot of teachers would go for washing out rude mouths instead, whether that was with an articulate wipe, a grating of punishment soap or the little, frothy, foul tasting pills known as soap tabs. Skelp's class was right before lunch and she was kind enough not to ruin it for them, even if it came at the expense of their bottoms.

He stood, rubbing the sting in his newly reddened cheeks. Still avoiding looking back at everyone who'd just witnessed his punishment, Landon hitched his trousers back up. The blush on his face was brighter than his bottom as he accepted a quick hug from Skelp. She was tiny, even shorter than Sadie's 5'3, but they'd all learned to respect her spanking hand.

Most of the pairs returned to their discussions now the show was over. Landon sloped back to his seat, more humiliated than in actual pain. He froze when he saw the gag Keller was holding, pausing halfway down to his chair.

"A threat for Spooner," Keller reassured him, putting it back in his blazer pocket. "You'll have to say a lot worse than that for me to reintroduce you to this toy. I know you know the magic words to get this stuffed in your mouth."

Landon sat the rest of the way down. "You don't have to remind me, sir," he grumbled, but leaned in as Keller offered him a one-armed hug.

Sadie looked between them, re-evaluating what she knew about their friendship. Dare had stepped in as Landon's mentor, but it looked like Keller had changed his tune on acting as disciplinarian. And far from Keller's fears it would destroy their trust, it seemed to have reinforced it.

Skelp came over once she'd handed the paddle over to her TA for cleaning. "Good answer overall," she told them, as though the spanking interlude hadn't happened. "You discussed it, came to a consensus and chose a realistic, fair punishment. Would you be up for trying one of the other scenarios? I don't think there's much you could gain by swapping roles."

Keller nodded for them all.

The second scenario had a brat using them each as alibis. When one asked where they were, they'd say with either of the other two, when actually they were at a different location they'd been banned from by their mentor.

Their unanimous decision was that the mentor should handle the bulk of the discipline. It was Keller's rule that had been broken. Sadie and Landon would tag team on a mouth washing and corner time for the lying to them, but Keller had to be the tough Top again.

Sadie leaned across the desk towards Keller. "You're good at this," she told him. "Like scarily good. And you got her to back off."

Keller shrugged. "I don't have much more experience than you, really. A few summer classes that got me my basic licence early and that's it. Just, next time she gives you shit, treat her like a brat. It's the same thing, poking and prodding for a negative response."

She didn't have to wait long for a chance to try that method out. Just before the bell rang, Skelp reminded those who'd earned warnings to stay behind. Just Sadie, Landon and Spooner.

The students swarmed out of the room, leaving those three to their fates.

Skelp considered them for a long moment. "Spooner, to me." She sat down on the chair at the front of the room. It was designed with a step up and an extra wide seat to make it easier for her to handle the over the knee position with taller students. Even Flick would fit if necessary.

"That's not fair," Spooner pouted. "I should be last alphabetically."

"And if my choice of order had anything to do with the alphabet that would be a valid argument, Spooner," Skelp said. "Come here."

Spooner twisted in her seat to glare at Sadie. "This is all your fault, Burns. If you didn't need putting in your place ..."

"And where exactly is my place?" Sadie asked. It was surprisingly easy to slip into her Top mode. She tended to need an active brat right in front of her to get there. Then again, she basically did.

"Over my knee with your bum bouncing as it gets smacked," Spooner told her.

Sadie stood up. She headed down to the front and picked up one of the copies of the class textbook that Skelp kept on her desk. The other four people in the room watched her curiously.

She took the book back up to Spooner and opened it, quickly finding the right page. "Alternative forms of consent," Sadie read. "Explicit and direct prior consent is the preferred option, but when handling a Brat, improvisation and escalation is common. Blah blah. Brats often find it difficult to ask outright. When there is something they want, they will indicate it in several different ways. Hm, oh here it is. Consent by suggestion. Where the brat says exactly what they want you to do to them by framing it as an insult. Often in the form of a threat to the Top's person."

Spooner was just gaping at her when Sadie lowered the book.

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of applying that same logic to a Top," Sadie said. "But, if you want your own bottom to have a good bounce, keep calling me a Brat. I have had enough. You don't really believe it, you just keep repeating it to get a reaction. Well, that's what you'll get. A nice, hard reaction to your bum."

"You can't ..."

Sadie cracked her knuckles. "Safeword if you need to, but otherwise I have plenty of friends who'd enjoy holding you down while I give you what you deserve. Landon?"

He grinned and started to stand up.

Spooner looked past Sadie to Skelp for assistance.

Skelp beckoned one more time. "Last chance before this spanking is with an implement instead of my hand, Spooner. Burns, bottom on chair until I call you."

With a huff, Spooner stormed over to Skelp. The teacher wasted no time in tipping the girl over her knee and flipping up the back of her skirt. Spooner whined, but before she could argue more, Skelp smacked her hard over her knickers.

Sadie sank down into her seat, trembling slightly. Landon leaned over and took her hand, rubbing the back of it in soothing circles.

Nice one, he mouthed, when she looked over at him. That made her feel a little better.

She worried the threat had been a bit too far. Maybe dubious consent, even if she'd been clear that safewording was an option, Sadie knew Spooner's pride wouldn't allow it. She'd rather take a spanking she didn't think she deserved — and Sadie doubted Spooner ever thought she was in the wrong — than surrender and lose.

Spooner's underwear was daffodil yellow and a contrasting pink blush could be seen around the lower edges when Skelp was done. She sniffled slightly as Skelp expertly flipped her upright and into a hug.

"I've made my stance on bullying very clear, Erin," Skelp told Spooner, softening her tone, even if the words weren't. "Every lesson you're there, making insinuations. I wanted to leave it until Burns asked for assistance, rather than assume and take away her agency, but instead I'm going to be backing up her threat. If she or Keller wishes to discipline you for cruel statements in my class, I give them permission to do so."

Hiding her face against Skelp's shoulder, Spooner shook her head.

Skelp rubbed her back. "Yes, Erin. You can safeword if you absolutely can't take it, but we both know you've been stepping over the line and a much more sore bottom would be well-deserved. If either of them had threatened anything outside acceptable punishment, this would be a very different conversation, but what I saw and heard were two Tops defining a reasonable boundary with clear consequences for crossing it."

Sadie had expected something more along the lines of being told to keep her personal stuff out of the classroom, not an endorsement.

"I don't want that, ma'am," Spooner said.

"It's easy to avoid," Sadie reassured her, despite knowing that ma'am was directed at Skelp. "Just don't call me a brat."

Skelp gave Sadie a warning look over Spooner's shoulder, but didn't reprimand her. Instead she spoke to the girl in her arms. "Now, the spanking I just gave you wasn't for the teasing, Erin. You got ten smacks over your knickers for disobeying my instructions and speaking out of turn. If I need to step in to deal with the situation with Burns, those knickers will be coming down in front of the whole class and I'll be using my strap."

Spooner nodded her understanding. "I'm not apologising to her."

"I didn't ask you to," Skelp pointed out. "I'm asking you to keep it civil in the future and telling you that if you don't, Sadie or Keller will punish you for it. And if they can't keep it civil while they do so, I'll be strapping at least two bottoms."

Sadie winced. She'd seen Henry's bottom after Marshall had belted him and also a couple of strappings Skelp had given out and that was one she was eager to avoid.

"Yes, ma'am," Spooner muttered.

"Good girl." Skelp helped the girl back to her feet. "I'm going to text your dorm prefect and tell them about this situation and advise them to join you for lunch. I think you need more aftercare than I can provide right now."

"I'm fine," Spooner insisted.

"You're angry. You think I'm being unreasonable and I'm offering you the opportunity to vent your feelings about this to someone more sympathetic to you specifically. Either way, I want you to get something you enjoy to eat and spend some time with your friends. Go on now, dismissed."

Spooner didn't look at Sadie or Landon as she left, but she was obviously disappointed.

"Burns," Skelp said next.

Sadie tried to walk at a normal pace, but anticipation slowed her. She stood in front of Skelp and waited for further instructions.

Skelp leaned back in the chair to look up at her. "I wasn't going to give you a warning until you told me you deserved one, Burns. How about you tell me how I should handle it?"

"You, um, you did say that my ..." Sadie stared at her own feet. "Pants would be coming down if I didn't move. So, a spanking over them? As a warning." She said it quickly, to try and outpace the embarrassment.

"That does seem fair. Trousers down and over my knee."

It was a lot easier to obey than it had been at the start of term. Losing just her trousers in front of one audience member was nothing after Indira had spanked her bare right in front of the library and everyone passing by.

Sadie settled over Skelp's knee, letting the petite teacher support her whole weight as her feet didn't quite reach the floor. The chair being designed to fit anyone over it made it a bit precarious for shorter students, but Skelp supported her, one arm around Sadie's waist as she lifted the other hand to strike.

"In this classroom my word is law, Burns," Skelp told her. "Blatant, unreasonable defiance will land you in this position every time. Six."

She smacked low enough that Sadie only got half the protection of her underwear, right on one sit spot. Three swats one side, then a matching set on the other. Sadie grunted at the force of it. Skelp might only be using her hand, but she made sure they were felt.

Undercurve stinging and sure there was pink showing on her thighs, Sadie got up slowly. "Sorry, ma'am," she said quietly.

Skelp helped her back into her trousers and buttoned them for her. "I'm proud of you for standing up to Spooner," she told her, "but if this turns into a back and forth calling each other brats, I'll be bringing out the strap for you too."

Sadie rubbed her bottom, wincing at the slight soreness that would remind her she'd actually asked for it when she sat for lunch. "I'll do my best to avoid that, ma'am."

"Good girl." Skelp smiled and stood up to give her a quick hug. "I'm also proud that you took responsibility for your actions. Go get lunch, Sadie."

She usually flipped to first names right after punishment, thinking it was more comforting.

Sadie nodded and went to collect her bag.

Landon hopped up without waiting for an order and hurried down to get it over with.

Skelp didn't sit back down or instruct him to bend over. She went to her desk and picked out a piece of paper with a long paragraph printed on it. "I want this copied five times before our next class," she told Landon. "If it isn't readable and perfectly accurate, you'll be copying it out ten times in detention over a bending desk with your underwear around your ankles and a prefect with an itchy palm supervising."

He glared at the piece of paper. "It's a bit excessive for one swearword, ma'am."

"You were disrespectful to another student, Matthew," Skelp reminded him. "Had Spooner swatted you, I would have considered that fair retribution, by the same rules that would let Burns smack Spooner. And it's a pattern of behaviour with you. You bratted a lot earlier in the year."

Landon scuffed his foot against the floor. "I swear I'm over that, ma'am. Kells and Tafani are pretty persuasive. They won't let me get away with not doing it."

"Good boy." Skelp rested her hand briefly on his arm. "Go eat something and feel grateful that your mouth isn't all soapy."

"But, seriously, thank you for that, ma'am," Landon said with feeling. "Soap sucks."

Sadie had been threatened with it a couple of times, but never tasted it. She was sort of curious, but not enough to aim for it on purpose. A brat would have.

Landon joined her to grab his own bag. "Hey, uh, you wanna join me and Kells for lunch?" he asked, shrugging to make it clear he didn't really care if she refused. "You're always hanging out with the brats in your dorm or your Top."

He didn't add that she should probably get some Top friends and that would make her seem toppier, but Sadie heard that subtext anyway.

"Yeah, sure," she said.

Chapter Text

Henry really and truly struggled to give a shit.

Flick's boyfriend's boyfriend was having a birthday and they were all required to attend and help set up?

Not happening.

Henry flopped onto the sofa after Flick had extracted him from his room with a stupid spurtle. Not even the TIDY UP, this one was definitely larger and springier. Their dorm prefect was taking every little thing as an explicit personal insult.

He needed somewhere else to be for the evening. Preferably somewhere he could get fucked or high. Both would be ideal, but he wasn't really into Trish. Wrong gender. Doherty and Warner would give him both, but only if he brought Lamb along and his boyfriend had to stick around the dorm for whatever spanking was up next on the schedule.

He considered his priorities as he scrolled down his contact list.

Getting high was always a risk and Flick was on alert for anything that could spoil his precious boyfriend's boyfriend's special day. Coming back to the dorm in that state would be noticed. So, Trish and her boys were out.

His fingers hovered over Leon Marshall for a moment, he'd never blocked the number, just ignored enough calls and texts that his Sir had given up. But now there was something there again. Maybe.

If he let himself be caught.

He was ready for that, but he wasn't ready to be the first one to reach out. Henry was desperate, the first hint of Marshall chasing him and he'd roll over to push his arse in the air for whatever his Sir wanted to do with it.

Maybe if he texted Marshall telling him that Henry was planning on going to the Hunters' hedge maze that evening and to bring lube ...

No. Too risky. Marshall might have a million valid reasons to say no and it would hurt too much if he did.

Henry scrolled a little further and paused on the name Oscar Keller. He'd never texted the guy. Hadn't really given a shit about him while he'd been living at the dorm and even less of one after he'd moved out. But that game he'd run had been incredible. Mainly because he'd reconciled with Marshall, but there had been highlights that had very little to do with his Sir.

Giving orders that had been followed. The respect he'd gotten for daring to get Keller paddled.

Holt's smirk when he'd drawn as Top to Henry's Bottom and ordered him to lie back, spread his legs and take his cock like a good boy. Shoving him down when he didn't move fast enough. The relief of that tormenting vibrator being slid out, only to be replaced by something that felt a million times better.

Lamb leaned over the back of the sofa and checked the screen of his phone. "Huh. With how fast you just got hard, I figured you were looking at porn and it was very rude of you not to share."

Henry slapped vaguely in his direction over his shoulder. "Find your own porn."

His phone was stolen a second later. "Kells?" Lamb laughed. "Ohhh, you're thinking about —"

"Shut up!" Henry squeaked. "There are innocent ears around!"

Lamb frowned around the dorm. "Where? Flick's got at least three boyfriends and a girlfriend that I know about. Sadie's getting her world rocked by Indira's strap and strap-on on the reg. Joshua successfully seduced a Top who I can assure you fucks as hard as he canes. Albert ... well, Indira doesn't keep Elly around just because she's soft and smells of cinnamon."

Henry didn't want to think about that last one. Technically ... well, if Albert was fucking Elly and Elly was fucking Indira and Indira was fucking Marshall and Marshall was fucking Henry then it was uncomfortably close to Henry fucking Albert and he really wasn't into the whole ageplay thing. Guy was kinda cute, though, when he wasn't pretending to be like six.

He shook his head to dislodge the thought. "Give me back my phone, Lamb. If you get me a virus because you're downloading dodgy porn, you'll be paying for my replacement."

"Paying with money or my body?" Lamb asked, typing quickly.

"Both." Henry knelt up on the sofa and managed to get his phone back. He groaned as he saw the message Lamb had sent Keller. It wasn't that different from the one he'd been considering actually sending, asking if he knew about any Switch events on that evening, but Henry wouldn't have included the detail that he was looking to get his hole filled again or the aubergine and peach emojis. Huh. He hadn't known there even was a ginger root emoji.

Lamb sent that Henry added quickly. But we'd like to know

"You're grounded," Henry reminded Lamb, despite including him in the text.

"Yeah, but I can live vicariously." Lamb leaned further over the back of the sofa to get the best look at the little dots as Keller typed.

"Live how?" Henry asked. He was pretty sure vicarious meant a slow moving liquid like glue or honey.

"Through you," Lamb translated from public school educated to dumbass. "You go out and have fun and I get to hear all about it and see your bruises." He kissed the top of Henry's head. "It's so good to see you taking some joy in kink, love. I'd take you out every night if it would make you smile like Keller's game did."

Henry rolled his eyes. "If you were a Top, you'd drag me out every night in a leather harness with a leash around my throat, you mean."

"If that's what you're into, we could do that anyway." Lamb really hadn't been taught any shame at all. Henry hated that fact as much as he envied it. And as much as he loved it.

He'd question what Lamb would even get out of it, if he hadn't seen how glorious Marshall looked in his harness.

His phone chimed as Keller's long response came through. Holt's asking for your number so he can add you to the Switch Swingers group chat. He says you're a good time even tho I told him you're actually a bratty porcupine with an allergy to manners. Permission to give him it? And there's a party tonight you might be interested in. A few of my row team are going and Holt says some of the football team will too. Including LM.

Marshall.

Henry was a little curious to see what a party would be like truly on his own, but he also wasn't going to pass on a chance to get close to his Top.

Yea Henry typed back, skipping letters and letting his autocorrect catch them or not. Holt can have it weres partu

The address that Keller sent was on campus. Building letter and dorm number. It took Henry a moment to work out what was wrong with that information.

That's our form you prick Henry sent furiously. Dorm I mean

See you there Keller replied and had the audacity to include a winky smiley.

Henry groaned and showed Lamb the last few parts of the exchange. "Marshall knows, uh, what's his name? The guy we're throwing a party."

"Ben," Lamb told him, like he should have known. "And, yeah, they're both Baboons."

That statement didn't make sense for a moment, then Henry remembered the Bratford football team's nickname. So called, Marshall had told him proudly, because they earned so many red cards and in the lifestyle university league a red card resulted in a red bottom.

Being known as the group that got spanked in that context was one of those ones where you had to go above and beyond. Like having a reputation for being bratty at Bratford. Henry was weirdly proud that Keller had described him that way. It was nice to get recognition for his achievements.

He startled at the sound of a meaty thwack as Flick descended with his spurtle. Lamb yelped and rubbed his thigh, straightening up quickly.

"Decorations, Reuben," Flick ordered. "Sadie will help. Henry, present."

Clicking off his phone, Henry then rolled over and lifted his hips for the inevitable swing of the spurtle. Two swats that seared his sit spots even through his jeans, Flick wasn't fucking around for once. If he hadn't been anticipating maybe hooking up with Marshall, Henry might have bratted to see if he could catch a proper spanking. That was the best bet for him actually behaving for the rest of the evening.

But Henry didn't have plans to ruin it anymore, not with the promise of Marshall.

"Start laying drinks and snacks on the table," Flick ordered, sending a reluctant Henry to slope over to the opposite side of the dorm to Lamb. He followed, spurtle raised in warning. "Any trouble and the whole party will get a show to go with their dinner. I've got a riding crop in my study and you'll be getting acquainted with it over the back of the sofa if you can't behave."

Henry rolled his eyes and opened the first cupboard he came to, pulling out a few family share sized packets of crisps. Flick found a pile of largish bowls in another cupboard and placed them on the counter next to Henry.

"Empty those into these and write the flavour in marker pen on the side of the bowl."

"Or people could eat them out of the packets and have all the information," Henry suggested. He popped his one open and started pouring when Flick raised his spurtle threateningly though.

Arguing with people holding dangerous pieces of wood might be Henry's favourite hobby, but he was aware it was a stupid one.

The moment Flick turned away, Henry opened his personal favourite, prawn cocktail, and grabbed a couple to eat. If he was going to help, he should be fairly compensated by getting first dibs.

Albert, arranging cans of drinks in the fridge like it was a vending machine, looked over at Henry like he was actually juggling grenades rather than helping himself to a little snack.

Henry opened the monster munch, he'd learned the others' preferences so he knew what to take to either not annoy anyone or to annoy a specific person, and rustled it in Albert's direction like a treat packet at a dog.

With a nervous glance at Flick, Albert grabbed one of the vaguely onion flavoured, vaguely monster foot shaped puffs and ate it like it was contraband.

Not that Henry could judge Albert's tastes from his glass house of prawn cocktail. He'd read the ingredients once and been shocked to discover that sweet taste of crustacean was entirely vegan. All unnatural flavourings.

He ate some more. Bullshit or not, it tasted good.

The first warning that he'd been caught was Flick's spurtle colliding with the seat of his jeans.

Henry twisted around to get his bottom against the counter and grabbed another handful of crisps to stuff in his mouth.

"Seriously?" Flick asked. "You're one more warning away from our guests being greeted by your striped bottom, kid. Brat in your own time."

He really hadn't planned to brat, intended to save it for Marshall, but ...

As Henry tried to decide if he wanted to escalate or de-escalate, the dorm door opened and Flick's boyfriend arrived. The one whose boyfriend was having a birthday.

Kyle Conway.

He might be Flick's sub, but the gaze he ran over the room was that of a hunter. Whatever Conway was looking for, Henry had been Pavloved by Marshall and his stomach clenched as he was considered. Before he'd fucked everything up, that sort of look had always come right before Marshall got mean.

Conway was looking for trouble and every part of Henry made him want to offer it. The thing that made him pause was how strict Flick was being to make sure things went well and Conway was both closer to Ben and generally scarier.

He was Dare's Disciplinary Mentor. Dare had managed three years at Bratford without learning to behave and Henry had seen the difference once Conway had got hold of him. Anyone that could break Darius Tafani that fast needed to be treated with caution.

Flick tried to take the crisps away while Henry was distracted with pretending he wasn't watching Conway as carefully as the guy was watching him. He resisted, cramming another fistful of theoretical prawns into his mouth.

Conway moved, stalking across the room and trying too hard to act dominant. The Top effect was lost as soon as he accepted a kiss from Flick and melted into it.

Henry made a point of looking disgusted. It was kind of hot, actually, like when Marshall yielded to Indira or when he'd ridden Frye as part of Keller's card game. He was coming to the conclusion that he enjoyed seeing his Tops submitting to other people. Like it made his own submission that much sweeter knowing that the person topping him had chosen to want and own him.

Not that Conway was in any way his Top.

It would be a gross overstep if he tried to have any authority over Henry, actually.

And if he did, he should be told to fuck right off.

"Where do you need me, sir?" Conway asked Flick, sounding like he wanted the answer to be bent over the table for a quick, hard fuck.

Flick gave him his orders, a warning and a pat on the arse. No spurtle, yet. Joshua asked a stupid question and was deservedly ignored.

"Would I mess things up for Ben?" Conway asked, finally giving Flick the bratty attitude he deserved.

"No, love, not on purpose, but no games. Start with the drinks. See if we've got enough ginger beer." Flick gave Conway another pat that was more of a flirty thing than a disciplinary one.

At the start of the year, Henry would have taken that emphasis personally. His red hair hadn't been something he could change and kids were monsters about anything that marked anyone as different. Now he knew it wasn't anything to do with him and everything to do with a subtle threat to stuff a literal ginger root up someone's arse.

With a dazed expression, Conway headed to the fridge and started at the closed door like it held the secrets of the universe. Henry surrendered his crisps and followed.

"Hey, so, like I need to get in the fridge? There's olives and shit to go on the table." Henry said. He didn't really care, but if he pretended to be trying to help, Flick might get off his case.

No response.

From the side, Henry could see that Conway had a paddle tucked into the inside pocket of his blazer. On both sides. One had a yellow handle and the other a cheery sky blue. It was kind of cute, coming armed for brat.

Flick's threat was a bit more than Henry wanted. But a light paddling to get him in a more obedient mood might be a good call. And Henry's light was most people's hard.

He waved his hand in front of Conway's face. "Earth to Kyle?" Bit rude to use his first name without permission, but what was bratting if not being a bit rude?

Conway raised an eyebrow. "I'm reading," he said, like the list wasn't held up by a magnet and highly detachable. "Just to get an idea of what's on here before I try matching to this mess."

"Right," Henry said, meaning 'bullshit'.

Behind them Flick was tipping the packets of snacks into bowls very quickly. Henry reached over and grabbed a twiglet while his back was turned.

"And that glazed expression had nothing to do with your Top saying ginger like he meant bend over." Henry bit his marmite stick in half with a snap to serve as a full stop.

Conway seemed to grow in size as he shifted his weight. All that try-hard dominance was back and directed at Henry. "Do you have a Top, Keen?" he said with an undertone of steel. Almost as though he was asking if Henry wanted him to be his Top.

"It's complicated," Henry snapped. How the fuck was that relevant to Conway handing him his arse right then?

Joshua leaned into their conversation, hands shuffling items on the table unnecessarily. "He means yes, but one of them is his DM and the other is a Bottom."

Of course the little shit didn't know that Marshall was back in the picture and Henry wasn't going to tell him until ... until it became relevant to and that was never going to happen. Joshua simply didn't need to know who Henry was playing with.

"The former is platonic," Henry pointed out. Birch was too skinny and bitchy to be his type. He didn't mind that Birch so obviously got off on punishing him, if anything it made him feel better about needing it. They both got something out of the arrangement. He turned to only speak to Conway. "As Joshua should know, since he's fucking the guy. Or, well, I suppose it's the other way around."

He meant it in a Top/Bottom way, not a genitalia way, but Joshua gave him a furious look. Henry winced and was about to apologise and clarify when Conway lifted his hand and made a gesture for him to turn around.

Success. Even if he'd got there on a misunderstanding.

Henry turned, expecting the next order to be to touch his toes or that he'd be marched to a clearer space to receive his punishment.

"Fix your attitude, Keen," Conway said, sounding way too happy about maybe getting the opportunity to fix it for him. Bloody sadists. "Or take it to your room. Right now, you've proven you can't be trusted with the food, so your choices are go help Lamb with the decorations or stand in the corner out of the way."

Henry opened his mouth to inform him that Flick had separated them for a reason, but then Conway's hand patted his bottom, no harder than the love taps Flick had been dishing out earlier.

"If you're still standing here when I reach three, I'll escort you to your room myself," Conway added.

Flick wanted Henry out of his room and away from Lamb. Conway was ordering the exact opposite.

Henry huffed in annoyance. Couldn't Tops talk and agree before pushing him around? "You can't send me to my room!" he protested. "I'm not six!"

"One."

Not worth finding out. If Henry was forced to stay in there the whole party, he wouldn't get to see Marshall. He scrambled out of swatting reach, then walked at a more dignified pace over to Lamb.

Joshua's voice rose, amused and awed, but Henry chose not to listen. Prick was wearing a Christmas shirt in November, anything he had to say was automatically irrelevant.

Lamb grinned down at him. "Conway slap your bottom and call you a naughty boy?"

Henry grabbed a length of bunting from the box and tried to untangle it, only making it worse. "No. He threatened to send me to bed without dinner. Twat."

"Hard luck. Behave until the guests arrive and then you can get your humiliation kink satisfied by whoever you like. Show Marsh you're a strong independent brat who needs a heavy hand, but can get it elsewhere. He'll snap you up and stake his claim if there's the slightest risk you'll really move on."

"Fuck off —" Henry began, but then he heard a voice that made him tense in anticipation.

Flick, sharp and scolding. But for once Henry wasn't the target. "Albert, that is enough! Go wait for me in my study. Nose in the corner."

It was a pity Henry had missed whatever Albert had said or done to get that reaction. His bratting was rare and pretty much nonexistent when he wasn't Little.

Conway stepped in and Henry turned away, pretending he wasn't interested.

"What was I —? Oh, right, fuck right off," Henry resumed his conversation with Lamb. "I don't want to make him jealous. And there's exactly zero chance of me moving on. I'd never —"

Lamb dropped down from the chair he'd been standing on. "Hey, calm. I was teasing, love." His broad hands squeezed Henry's shoulders. "What Marsh is going to think if he sees you getting your cute bum paddled by Conway is how hot you look all teary and sore and that he might like a turn under that paddle too. And, don't get mad, but saying you'd never doesn't fly when you did."

Rather than getting mad, all Henry's anger seemed to drain out of him at once, leaving him with just the itch of anxiety and yawning chasm of despair. What he'd done was unforgivable. He should go to his room and hide, punishing himself by listening to everyone having fun without him.

"Henry? Love?" Lamb shook him slightly. "I can hear your bunny brain telling you to run and hide and I've got a spoon for your bottom if you do. Marshall is just as desperate to get you back. He's got you. He's got us."

Henry slumped further. Lamb needed a Top. A real one who could handle his bratting and didn't expect him to be anything more than he was. Joshua had said it to be mean, but he wasn't wrong. Far from looking after his boy, Henry looked to Lamb to be his master. Calling it topping from the bottom only went so far before it was just bottoming.

Lamb's arms wrapped around him. "You'll see when he gets here. Put the heavy emotional shit aside for one night and try to enjoy yourself. My arse is still a nuclear wasteland, so I want to watch him fuck you." His hands slid down to cup Henry's buttocks. "Up to you if you want these to be red when he does, but I vote yes."

He leaned into the hug, slightly wishing he didn't need to be groped to get it. But that was Lamb. All instant gratification and forget those icky feelings.

Henry wished he could be more like that. He just had so many feelings and they were usually overwhelming and pretty much the only method he'd found for making them quiet down was getting topped. If those didn't get in the way, he could have a go at being a Top.

If those didn't get in the way, he wouldn't need to be such a brat.

"You could do it," Henry suggested, trying to match Lamb's playfulness. "Marshall holds me down while you turn me red."

Lamb laughed. "There's our sexy little bunny. I'd love to." He kissed Henry enthusiastically and it was easy to yield.

Chapter Text

Lamb had gone straight to Marshall when he'd shown up.

Henry hung back. Now the party had started it was mostly socially acceptable to stick close to the food table and just keep eating. More socially acceptable than running his mouth at least and the Tops who knew him obviously considered his self-imposed gagging to be the lesser evil. A couple of the unfamiliar Tops gave him looks like they might have a problem with him commandeering the prawn cocktail crisps and chocolate fingers, but he gave them his best glare, daring them to cause a scene.

He openly watched Marshall as he greeted the birthday boy with a kiss on the cheek and smack on the arse, both of which were returned with enthusiasm.

Ben seemed ... fine. Darius, Conway and Flick had all decided to keep Henry away from Ben, so he'd only managed a happy birthday before he'd been escorted away with more threats to add to his collection. It wasn't worth pushing that point.

Curious as Henry was about Ben's rumoured bluntness, he was sure there would be other opportunities when there weren't three paranoid Tops assuming Henry was hellbent on ruining everything. Just because he did, didn't mean it was his intended goal.

Marshall and Lamb's conversation didn't last long. Their heads bowed together, Lamb eagerly suggesting they tag team Henry like they used to.

Henry's heart clenched as he saw Marshall shake his head in response, but whatever he added had Lamb laughing, so it couldn't be too bad. He clapped his Top on the shoulder and stepped back.

Almost lazily, Marshall met Henry's eyes across the room and beckoned him with a single crooked finger.

Like he was being drawn by an invisible chain, Henry abandoned his snacking and went. He hardly noticed anyone else, jostling a few shoulders as he passed and not even looking around. Nothing mattered more than obedience.

"Look at you, bunny," Marshall said, when Henry stopped in front of him, slipping into that waiting for orders posture. Feet shoulder width apart and hands behind his back. "At the start of term you'd have thrown a tantrum if I'd tried to teach you parade rest and now it's your default." He reached up to cup the side of Henry's face. "Ru wants to play, but I think you and me need a more serious conversation. Alone."

Henry fought not to lean into the touch and failed. "Ru always wants to play, sir. I have no problem with teaching him patience."

"He's been spoilt by always getting what he wants," Marshall agreed. "And I'd let him watch if we didn't need to re-establish our dynamic. Sorry, Ru."

"I get it," Lamb said, like he meant it. "I'll just complicate the scene you have planned." He glanced around the room. "You two renegotiate. I'm going to have a good flirt with some of Kells' rowing mates. That one makes me look tiny and delicate, which should be a fun novelty." He hitched up his skirt so the point where his thighs started to be bright red, just above the back of his knee, was visible below the hem. Then he marched across the dorm towards his target.

"He's easy to please," Henry commented. "One cock in his mouth to shut him up and one in his arse to keep him happy."

"If you're making suggestions for what you want yourself, I'm going to have to disappoint you, bunny," Marshall said, turning to walk towards Henry's room and relative privacy, just assuming he'd be followed. "If you're saying it because you think there's something shameful about wanting and enjoying that, I'll wash your mouth out before we start this discussion."

Henry swallowed the lump in his throat. Birch would have started clicking his little counter, but with him, Henry would double down. He certainly wouldn't have admitted the truth. "I'd really like to be between you like that again, sir."

Marshall tapped in the code to Henry's room quickly, with one hand covering the keys to hide it. "And you make a lovely spit roast, love, but that's not today's game. I'm taking you back, but first I want to show you something." He let Henry enter the room first, then closed the door gently behind them both, muffling the noise of the party.

From bitter experience, Henry knew a spanking delivered inside one of the dorm rooms could be clearly heard from the common area. The party wasn't noisy enough that that sound awould be lost in the commotion. As soon as his punishment started, everyone would know.

"How badly I hurt you, sir," Henry assumed, reaching for his fly.

"In a sense, but not the one you mean," Marshall said. "I won't punish you for pushing me away, bunny. I'll hold on tighter now I know that's what you want, but I refuse to pretend that you can't end this arrangement at any time for any reason. You always have a way out and I'll never penalise you for taking it."

"I lied," Henry snapped. "I never wanted ..."

Marshall held up his hand. "I said I wouldn't punish you for it. That includes for arguing with me about my judgement. I trust you. I have to take you at your word on the serious stuff for a Tamer and Brat dynamic to work. In future, don't lie to get something you don't want. Right now, the thing I want to show you ..."

Henry flinched automatically as Marshall moved in close, then knelt. His hands were quick on the laces of Henry's shoes.

"You made me feel like I failed you, bunny," Marshall told him, lifting his foot and pulling off Henry's shoe, then sock, before moving on to the other side. "I agonised over what I could have done to make you reject my comfort. I sought out punishment to cleanse me of this imagined error. I could put you through the same, if I thought that was the best way to lift your guilt."

"I'm sorry," Henry whispered as Marshall stood up in front of him, calmly undoing his fly for him.

"I know you are, love, but we need to treat the underlying cause, not the naughty little symptoms. You don't think you're doing this right." Marshall pulled Henry's jeans down to his ankles and made him step out of them, before tossing them on the back of his desk chair. "You think there's one right way to be a Top and one right way to be a Bottom and no right way to be a Switch. And you're wrong. Arms up."

Henry lifted his arms in surrender and allowed his shirt to be pulled off over his head. "I act like a sub for my sub, sir. Words have meanings. I can't bottom and call it topping."

Marshall crouched down to deal with his own shoes, leaving Henry standing there in just his underwear. "Let me show you. I want you to play Lamb to my Henry. Either you're right and you top me, proving you can go both ways with me and we can negotiate a Switch/Switch dynamic, or I stay in command throughout and that proves that what you're doing with Lamb is topping and therefore you can go both ways, but you want me to just be your Sir."

"You can't just prove the same point no matter what happens," Henry argued. "There needs to be a way I can win."

"The way you win is if neither of us ends up in charge, love." Marshall took his own shirt off before his trousers, but both were soon draped over the chair with Henry's clothes. "If I can't maintain control and you can't pick it up. Have you got yourself any new toys since we last played?"

"No, sir, but some of Lamb's have migrated. Top shelf in the wardrobe."

With a playful grin, Marshall slipped out of his underwear and headed over to see fully naked.

Henry tried to pretend he wasn't ogling him, but there was no hiding the way his own underwear tented as he watched Marshall rise onto the tips of his toes to see the shelf.

Marshall shook his head at what he found, then fished Henry's carry paddle out of the blazer hanging in the wardrobe. "This will do for now, but we need to get you something a good bit heavier."

Because Henry was a total fuck up and needed the discipline. "You can just use my belt, sir," Henry said, glaring at his own feet.

"I don't like belts," Marshall said, lightly, approaching him slowly. "Too hard for me to stay hard. When I want a sexy spanking from you, bunny, I want to be able to send you to fetch your very own paddle to turn me red. That's the game tonight. You're going to spank me the way I like and then you're going to fuck my sore arse. And I'm going to be your Sir for every second of it."

Henry looked up, eyes drawn to the handle of the paddle being held out to him. "I'm not ... qualified."

"You can use your hand if that's easier, love, but I'm not going to compromise on how roughly I want you to treat me. Using this for pleasure is a different skill to punishment anyway, but you have to start somewhere. Think about when you learned to give a blow job. You knew how to suck, but it took practice to apply that knowledge to a dick. You know how to swing a paddle, now I want your sloppy first attempt at applying that theory to a masochist. I trust you not to mess this up on purpose and to stop if I give that order."

The handle of his carry paddle felt incredibly heavy in Henry's hand. Surely it hadn't always been so big and threatening. He'd picked it out in Spencer and Marks because it didn't seem too bad. Even though then he'd mostly been kidding himself that he'd be the one using it more often than it was used on him, he'd wanted something not too mean.

Marshall ran his eyes appreciatively over Henry. "Take your pants off, love." He stepped backwards towards the bed and sat down.

Awkwardly, with one hand, Henry eased the waistband of his underwear down and over his dick. He always found full nudity less embarrassing than just his underwear when he was turned on. Probably because having his dick fully out meant he was usually sharing it with someone who was appreciating it, while when he was hard and dressed, it was in an inappropriate situation.

"Good boy." Marshall held his palm out. "Lube, please. I prepped myself before I got here, thinking about you with my fingers stretching my hole, but I'd like to refresh it. So when I tell you to stop spanking and get inside me, you don't have to fuss with prep then."

Henry's dick left a smear of pre-cum on his belly as he opened the bedside table's drawer and found his bottle of lube. He was starting to see Marshall's point already. There was no doubt where the power lay.

"Thank you, bunny." Marshall shuffled back on the bed, then laid down, bending his knees to get his feet flat on the mattress and opening them wide. He squirted a generous portion of lube onto one hand and reached down. "Mmm! I — oh, fuck, keep watching me just like that."

Unsure what specific way he was watching, Henry tried to obey. He kept his eyes locked on the point where Marshall's fingers plunged inside, roughly scissoring himself open with quiet moans and little jerks of his hips.

The show wasn't long, Marshall abruptly pulling his fingers out and gripping the base of his cock to hold off from cumming way too early. He recovered quickly, smirking lazily up at Henry. "I just want you to know, I'm not going to be upset if you do take control, bunny. You don't have to, but there won't be any punishment if you do. Whichever way you're feeling."

Henry was feeling like he needed to bottom, honestly. That desire for punishment was still going strong and Marshall's refusal to discipline him for it just made him want to brat until he got it for something else. But just as much, he wanted to prove he could be a good boy. That rude brat wasn't his only setting.

"I'm ... yours, sir," Henry said, twisting the paddle in his hand, trying to work out if there was any difference in the two sides.

"Damn right you are, bunny." Marshall lifted his legs, gripping them behind the knees and offered Henry clear access to his arse, upper thighs and cock and balls. "Aim carefully, I want a paddling to my bottom, not my dick. Nice and hard, now."

"It would be safer if you were on your front, sir," Henry pointed out, stepping automatically into position. That much he'd learned. The failure in his tests hadn't been a lack of knowledge, just his inability to dish it out with sufficient force.

"But I want to see you," Marshall told him. "You're so beautiful and I love the rush of anticipation as a paddle swings towards me. Now, bunny. Let me have it."

Certain Marshall would change his mind about wanting him anywhere near him with a paddle once he'd felt it, Henry swung. The wood gave a satisfying crack as it connected and Marshall arched off the bed.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, sir!" Henry was ready to toss the paddle aside and find the first aid kit to tend to the pinkish blotch he'd left.

The Marshall moaned. Deep and eager. "Don't you dare apologise for that, bunny," he panted after a moment. "If I don't get lots more, just like that, all over my bottom, you're going to be in actual trouble. I'll —"

What he was going to do was never voiced, because Henry cut him off with another swat that added a new splotch. He spanked a little randomly, but with the goal of making those splashes of colour cover as much of his canvas as was safe.

With every thwack of paddle, Marshall rewarded Henry with a moan or full-body shudder or attempt to spread his legs wider. Yeses, demands for more and praise fell from his lips.

And Henry served. He waited for a request for more before each stroke. The rhythm of pause and release soothed something in his mind. His inner brat, he supposed. Exactly the same as when he was under Birch's cane and it settled him.

Marshall won. He was right. When Henry bent over and told Lamb to fuck him like he'd been a very bad boy, the power flowed only one way.

A second round, harder to tell where he had and hadn't hit as the pink didn't get much worse as it was layered. But ...

He wasn't Lamb, who got a sadistic thrill from spanking someone else. The only thing Henry got out of this was the satisfaction that he was the one making Marshall feel good. And there were ways to get that that also made Henry feel good.

He reached out with his free hand and felt the slightly increased heat radiating off Marshall's skin.

"Continue," Marshall ordered, desperation adding a bite to the order.

The brat was back. All that sense of being settled melted away and Henry felt himself bristle at the demand.

"No," Henry said, touch gentle on Marshall's arse as he pulled one cheek slightly to the side and looked directly at his Sir's hole. Glistening slightly with lube and slack enough that he was sure he could push in without risking tearing. "All I'm getting from this is your pleasure, sir. And I'm afraid I'm a bit too selfish to be satisfied by just that."

Marshall laughed softly, finally showing the strain of holding the position. "You serve at my pleasure, bunny. Now, be a good boy and get paddling." He leaned his head back, arching his neck to expose his throat. "Or be a good Top and take what you want."

The paddle thudded against the carpet.

"I want you to let go of your legs, sir," Henry said. The word wasn't just a respectful epithet anymore, it had the same weight as Marshall's use of bunny. "Are you going to be a good boy for me or do I need to get mean?"

Marshall let go, stretching his legs with relief. "Fun as mean sounds, I'll be good," he promised.

Henry allowed him the stretching, then climbed onto the bed between Marshall's legs, shoving him back to make room. He leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his Sir's neck.

"Hi, bunny," Marshall said, when Henry knelt up again. "Come in whenever you're ready."

"You'll take what you're given." Henry returned his attention to Marshall's arse anyway. He palmed the sore cheeks, curious.

"Ah! Yes, sir!" One of Marshall's feet kicked once against the bed. "Thank you!"

Henry wasn't sure he liked that, but he definitely liked lifting Marshall's hips and adjusting the angle so he could slowly press the head of his cock through and into the furnace of his hole.

Marshall moaned just as eagerly as he had for the spanking and clenched like he was trying to draw Henry deeper.

"Does this feel good, sir?" Henry asked, like there was any doubt it did. "Your little bunny taking your sweet hole."

"My bunny doesn't feel very little right now," Marshall told him. "He feels very big and solid and like he's going to make me regret asking for a spanking first."

Henry eased in the rest of the way, pushing through with inevitability instead of speed. He spread his hands over Marshall's buttocks and yanked them apart to get a good look at where they connected. "I don't want to make you regret anything, sir. But I'm going to fuck you until you scream loud enough that everyone out there hears."

Marshall raised his hands above his head and gripped the duvet tightly. "They're all going to assume you're the one getting railed, love. That you were naughty and got your cute bottom paddled and now I'm making you feel it."

"Only until we walk out," Henry said, pulling out most of the way. "Then they'll see exactly who's limping." He hooked one arm under Marshall's leg, lifting it up to twist him sideways and spread him wider. "It'll be easier on you if you can relax, sir. You requested rough."

Despite that warning, Marshall's whole body tensed up at the first uncompromising thrust. Henry took him hard and fast, chasing the edge of his own pleasure without aiming to make it anything but overwhelming for his Sir. Which seemed to be exactly what Marshall wanted.

He got noisy quickly, no shame about how anyone outside could probably hear him. Marshall wasn't shy or as reluctant to show how he felt as Henry could be.

Neither lasted long. Marshall went first, clenching around Henry tight enough that he had to pause his rhythm for a few endless seconds as Marshall came down from his release.

Marshall needed to gasp for breath, but once he'd recovered, he grinned up at Henry. "Go on, bunny. Take what you've earned. I'm all yours."

Hesitant at first, but encouraged by Marshall's resumed moaning and his dick trying to get hard again so soon, Henry took. Every thrust a claim on both sides.

He chased his release and caught up with it buried deep enough inside his Sir that he could feel their heartbeats, just slightly out of sync, but both racing.

Afterwards, Henry collapsed bonelessly next to him. He rolled onto his back, still a bit sticky, but needing a moment before he could face clean up.

Marshall rolled to, turning onto his side and throwing an arm across Henry's chest and a leg over his hip. "Mm. Yeah, if you can treat me like that, bunny, I'm definitely keeping you. You were fantastic."

Henry scowled at the ceiling. He'd definitely lost their sort of bet. Both possible ways. "I don't even know who was in charge for half of that, sir."

"Does it matter?" Marshall casually played with Henry's nipple, making him squirm. "I got off, you got off. If it helps, I did feel like you were in charge for maybe two seconds in the middle."

With a huff, Henry swatted his backside, then hauled him closer, turning his hip until Marshall's cock was flush against Henry's thigh. "Next time I'll get mean, sir. Then you'll know for sure."

"There's going to be a next time?" Marshall sounded delighted. "My big, bad bunny is going to get on top again?"

Henry shrugged. "Felt more like I'm a Top than anything else that's happened since I got to Bratford. But, like, you don't have to ..."

Marshall pinched his nipple hard as punishment. "Switch, bunny. I'm very flexible. You get frustrated at Lamb for only going one way and needing to be told how to treat you, but I'm up for adapting to whichever you want in the moment. All you need to do is tell me if you want me mean or at your mercy. And if that changes during the course of a scene, so be it."

"I'm not great at communication," Henry mumbled. He could feel Marshall steadily hardening against his thigh.

"One word, love," Marshall reminded him. "Then I either take it from there or I take what you give me. Just as simple as me asking for your colour. Try it now. How do you want me?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "You're already ready to go again?"

Marshall ran a finger along the length of Henry's cock. "This says you are too, bunny. Answer the question or I'll assume you're being bratty and want me extra mean."

That didn't sound too bad, but if Henry didn't now, he wasn't sure he'd ever have the courage again. "Mercy," he whispered.

He was rewarded with a kiss to his bare shoulder. "Yes, sir."

Henry shook his head. "I don't like you calling me that, sir. Even this way around. Can I ... can I still be bunny?"

"Of course, love. Well done for asking." Marshall rolled his hips lazily. "How do you feel about me getting a bit bratty at you?"

"Not sure I can handle that yet, sir." Henry gripped Marshall's thigh tightly, holding him still. "But you wait for my orders."

At some point they would need to leave his bedroom and face a party full of people who had heard enough to know someone got spanked and fucked and pretty much everyone who knew them would assume it had been Henry, but that was a problem for later. Right then, Henry rolled them over, bracketing Marshall under him.

"I don't want them to know," Henry told him. "Can this be just for us? Me on top, I mean."

Marshall reached up to steady Henry's hips. "Yes, bunny." He put as much respect into the nickname as he ever did into a 'sir' or 'ma'am'. "I can be all yours in here and you can be all mine in front of other people. And sometimes in here too. What's important is that we enjoy each other. No more trying to fix something that isn't broken."

Henry wasn't sure about that last part. He felt pretty broken a lot of the time. But rather than argue, he kissed his way down Marshall's body from his neck to his navel.

Just before he took Marshall in his mouth and reminded him just how much he enjoyed worshipping his cock, Henry looked up at his Sir with a wicked smirk and said, "May I have mean now?"

A second later Marshall's hand was in his hair, forcing him down until he choked. A suitable punishment for being a tease.

Chapter Text

Joshua bent down to grab another cup off the coffee table, the motion stretching his jeans tight over his bottom. The friction kept reigniting that wonderful ache that Conway had given him before the party.

As soon as he'd nodded his consent, Conway had tossed him over his knee, trousers down before Joshua could react and a hard hand smacking him as he gasped, moaned and writhed. Conway was good. No mercy or hesitation, just an arse blistering at the upper limit of Joshua's enjoyment. He'd been soaking wet in seconds as Conway tested the theory that Joshua couldn't get off without clitoral stimulation.

Then, just as Joshua was sure he was going over the edge and would have to sincerely apologise for ruining Conway's trousers, the Top had whipped out a mean little paddle and smacked him back down from arousal into something closer to punishment. He'd played Joshua with confidence and a very steady hand. By the time Conway had finished and started gently petting Joshua's hair and back like he was a lap cat, Joshua had been crying from the intensity.

And he'd been aching to get off ever since.

Only, unlike Henry, Joshua wasn't okay with heading to his room to take care of himself while the party was ongoing. Then again it had been Marshall taking care of Henry. Loudly.

Listening to them shamelessly moaning through the wall hadn't helped matters.

"Move your arse, Tatham," Henry snapped, rustling the bin bag he was holding at him.

Joshua put down the can he'd just picked up. "You know this would go even faster if you stopped being just a semi-mobile bin and helped properly."

Henry smirked. "The trick is to set nice low expectations. If I refuse to help ninety percent of the time, I can get away with shitty help the other ten percent and they're all so relieved they don't need to force me that they won't complain."

"Keen's got a point," Ben contributed from the sofa, where Conway was sitting on him to prevent him from helping tidy up when it was his birthday.

Conway reached into his blazer to adjust the handle of one of the paddles he kept there. "Tell me, Tatham, Keen, how attached are you to keeping your trousers on while you tidy?"

The answer was very, so Joshua started shovelling rubbish into Henry's bag again.

One brat had managed to get out of being bullied into cleaning up by the Tops, but only by earning himself a full spanking and a very red bottomed corner time. He sniffled pathetically and kept sneaking looks over his shoulder to see if anyone was paying him attention.

As Joshua scowled at a spilled can of coke, that cornered brat was collected by his Top.

"Seeya at practice, Ben," the Top said, then gave his brat a swat to encourage him to say much the same thing.

Ben grinned at them both. "Only tactic Blue needs to practice is taking a spanking without yelling like he's being murdered. I recommend very frequent drills for that one."

The brat, Blue, pouted, then flipped Ben off.

Blue's Top shook his head and swatted Blue away to say bye to Flick. Who had Dare bent over the dining table and looked like he might unzip his trousers and fuck him right there in front of everyone.

Joshua couldn't see the state of Dare's arse, but his skirt was rumpled up around his waist and he was arching into Flick's touch.

"Fucking hell," Henry muttered, following Joshua's gaze. "They need to get a room."

Apparently Flick agreed, because a moment later Dare was standing up, smoothing his skirt back into place and sashaying across to Flick's study like he wanted the whole world to pay attention to where he was headed.

Almost as soon as the door closed behind him, Flick was bending Lamb over in the same spot. Joshua winced and looked away. He understood the logic behind giving Lamb all the punishments he'd got away without, but it was more than he was entirely comfortable watching.

"Kyle?" Flick called across the room. "Could you grab the crop from my office, please? Don't worry about Dare, he said he'd be waiting in my bed."

Conway nodded and gave Ben a warning look as he got up to obey. The study door opened and closed again.

Henry made a gagging noise, dropped the bin bag so some of its contents spilled onto the floor and stuck his hands over his ears. "Why are you old people so obsessed with telling everyone about the sex you're having?"

Like he hadn't slipped away for a noisy quickie when the dorm was full of people.

Lamb lifted the back of his skirt. Joshua was kind of jealous of how the cis guys were just able to wear skirts. Like, he didn't want to wear them, they felt wrong, but he wished they didn't. As Dare had put it, clothes didn't have gender. They were bits of cloth used to cover up the socially unacceptable parts and beyond that any associations were inventions of the collective consciousness. But if Joshua put on a skirt, he knew he'd be misgendered, while Dare or Lamb could ...

"There's a two or three year age gap at most," Lamb pointed out, unconcerned with his newly exposed status. "And I can tell them in great detail about the sex you're having, if you're jealous?"

Henry choked on air, his face turning red as his hands dropped from his ears.

Joshua gave him a smirk. It was always good when Lamb started running his mouth and there wasn't shit Henry could do to stop his brat.

"I haven't been in any state to bottom since Indira found out," Lamb continued, "but Henry's been very accomodating. That sour attitude keeps him wonderfully tight, even after a few rounds."

This was priceless. Joshua knew his smirk wasn't helping. Henry looked at him like it was entirely his fault.

Flick scolded Lamb for the oversharing, underlining his point with a couple of nasty smacks. "How would you feel?"

Joshua could have told him that was a bad comparison. Lamb was a hell of an exhibitionist.

"If Henry started describing the way I suck him off with special mention to how much I like my hair being pulled, I'd cry," Lamb grinned. "I'd be so proud of him for embracing his exhibitionist tendencies, that I'd get on my knees to demonstrate."

Henry swayed as though Lamb's words had a physical force. His lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

"Keen likes my mouth, in any way you want that to mean." Lamb still wasn't done. He had to know it was upsetting Henry, but he just kept going. Maybe it was some sort of revenge for Marshall and Henry leaving him out earlier. "I've told him he can safe out of me oversharing and he's never directly ordered me not to do it."

Joshua was watching Henry closely, so he saw him very deliberately close his mouth and fail to safeword. Instead he grabbed the bin bag off the floor and pretended to be focused on it.

"Under all that anger and resistance, there's a little bunny who really loves a bit of humiliation."

Henry's eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide. He was either turned on or he'd slipped himself some drugs without anyone noticing. Lamb wasn't lying. Even if their audience was just their dormmates, Ben, Keller and Landon, this public dirty talking was definitely doing it for Henry.

And kind of Joshua, but he blamed Conway's amazing tease of a spanking more than this situation.

"He still jerks off about the memory of getting his pants pulled down and walloped at Freshers Fair," Lamb provided.

"Oh my god," Henry muttered into the awkward silence that statement was met with.

Henry was in good company if that was the case. Joshua still jerked off about the first spanking Sadie had given him in the cafeteria. The way he'd found out he was a masochist.

"That's enough, Reuben." Flick brought out a rare properly scolding tone for the occasion. "Unless you'd like a mouthful of soap? Henry might have consented, but not everyone you're telling had the same option." He changed to addressing the whole room. "A reminder that you can safeword out of things like this too, okay?"

It was too good an opportunity. Joshua chose violence. They were all due a reminder that he was a brat. He raised his hand like he was in class. "Um? Green. Just for the record. I'd like to hear more about Henry enjoying a spanking. Since he's always so down on me for exactly that. Hypocrite."

Henry's whole body tensed. He very slowly put down the bin bag and looked at Joshua with a totally new expression.

Something about it made Joshua's stomach flip with the same nervous excitement he got when Birch flexed a cane in his direction.

"Tatham." Henry said his name like he meant 'little brat'. "You got your arse blistered by Conway already today. Would you like a second dose?"

Yes. Obviously. Henry just hadn't been on Joshua's list of potential candidates.

"You capable, Keen?" Joshua challenged. Nothing to lose by giving him a try. "Prove it."

That expression hardening further, Henry stepped forward and took a firm hold of Joshua's arm. He didn't say anything, just towed him over to the line of dormroom doors.

Joshua had expected he'd be taken into Henry's room, but they stopped outside Joshua's. He keyed in his code, not bothering to hide it from Henry. The weight of anticipation slowed his movements, but Henry didn't get impatient, just waited calmly.

Marshall really had fucked the Brat out of him and Joshua was kind of a fan of the Top that was left behind.

Henry politely opened the door for him. "I doubt you'll enjoy this one, Tatham. I don't intend you to."

A thrill ran through Joshua making him shudder. He really hoped that was true. A playful spanking was nice and all, but he'd had few enough proper ones for being genuinely naughty that the novelty was exciting.

He entered his room, Henry close behind him. The door shut, closing them off from the others.

Joshua had been slightly afraid that Henry's bravado would evaporate once they were alone, but the Switch stepped in close enough that he could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

"Implement," Henry demanded. "Fetch."

"Want to be a bit more specific?" Joshua asked, trying to seem unconcerned. He hurried over to his chest of drawers and opened the top one. "Ruler? Hairbrush? Some sort of paddle? Cane?"

"No cane," Henry said quickly. "Any of those others are fine, but I'm not ... I don't know how to use a cane."

Joshua grabbed his hairbrush and turned back to face him. "Yeah, I know. Just teasing, sir. Birch hasn't left any canes here yet."

Henry visibly winced at the epithet. He looked away first, but pretended it was just to pull Joshua's desk chair out into the middle of the room.

There was no doubt what the next order would be and Joshua crossed the room to the chair. He held out the hairbrush as Henry sat down.

"Thank you," Henry said, taking the brush and turning it over in his hands. "Trousers down and over my knee, please, Joshua." There was an awkward hesitance to his words, like he didn't quite believe he was actually saying them.

It couldn't be Henry's first time dishing out a spanking, he'd been practicing for weeks, but Joshua suspected it was his first time when it hadn't been for class or sex. Or those few unauthorised swats he'd given out to impress Lamb.

"Yes, sir," Joshua said. He was quick with his trousers, undoing the side buttons to let the whole thing fold down, even though it would have been more convenient for it to be done once he was over a lap. That was something to teach Henry some other time. Right now, obedience felt more important. Henry looked like he might fold if he had to deal with any resistance.

So, Joshua made the choice to fold for him. He bent over. Laps were all pretty similar. Unless the Top wasn't quite tall enough to get their feet flat on the ground like Sadie or was tall enough that their knees pointed upwards like Flick, a standard chair height meant that Joshua knew exactly how far forward he had to bend that his hands could touch the ground on one side as his feet provided stability on the other.

His bottom rose, presented at the best angle for it to be smacked.

Which Henry did.

Just his hand at first.

The smacks quickly went from hesitant to confidently firm. Joshua was shocked to find Henry was goo* at this. At least, good for a masochist. Every hit was a molten burst of heat that had Joshua wriggling as his underwear soaked through yet again. Henry pinned him with an arm around his waist and brought his hand down harder.

"Stay still," he ordered. "You've been bratting at me since before term started and now you're surprised I'm doing something about it? This is long overdue. Your smart mouth has brought you a smarting bottom."

If he hadn't been too busy biting back moans, Joshua would have laughed. That was one of Birch's stock phrases for use during discipline. No mystery how Henry had come to hear it. His mouth on his best day was a lot smarter than Joshua's at his brattiest.

Henry paused and shook his hand out. "Fuck, my palm stings." He sounded offended by the fact. "Either doing this a lot toughens the hand or all Tops are bloody masochists."

Joshua did laugh at that.

An extra hard swat to one sit spot turned amusement into a gasp.

"Something fucking funny, Tatham? Your cute little arse is entirely at my mercy and any bratty behaviour is just going to make my mercy harder to find."

The sensible answer would have been no, sir, but Joshua was so turned on it felt like his entire pelvis, front and back, was throbbing with it. And being horny always brought out the worst of his brat. "You think I have a cute arse, sir?"

Instead of another hard swat or a shift to the hairbrush, Henry lightly cupped one of Joshua's buttocks. "Yeah. Adorable and it blushes so prettily when it gets a good smacking."

Joshua whined and pressed into the cool touch. He was turned on enough it was hard to think of anything else. "Please, sir, can I have more? I'm so close. Wanna cum."

Henry snorted. "Oh, you're enjoying this? My mistake. I thought I'd keep it light, since you weren't too naughty, but clearly I underestimated how much it takes before you stop getting off on this. I'm an idiot, sorry."

"You're not an idiot, sir. I didn't tell you ..."

"And I was relying on feeling your stiffy against my leg to let me know if I wasn't going hard enough to outdo your masochism."

It took Joshua a moment to understand, then he snorted too. "Kinda flattered you forgot, sir, but, yeah, that's not a weathervane you can rely on." He could feel that urgency to cum ebbing away, clearing his head again. "If you were serious about making this one I don't like, you should have started with the brush. Hard and relentless and preferably with a bit of scolding to remind me I was naughty, sir."

He felt Henry shift as he pulled the hairbrush out of the pocket he'd put it in to free up both hands. "Don't call me sir," Henry ordered. "I'm so not a sir that it feels like you're making fun of me, okay?"

"I wouldn't use it if I didn't mean it," Joshua reassured him. "But, okay, daddy." That one was making fun though.

"Absolutely not!" Henry shuddered. "Call me that again and I'll drag you back out into the common area, with your trousers still around your ankles, and give you a nice big mouthful of punishment soap and borrow the talking during movie night gag."

"I have got my own gag, master," Joshua said, borrowing Chalk's preferred epithet to keep the teasing going without directly invoking that threat.

Henry gasped like a scandalised lady in a not good period drama — Joshua was very sceptical about Birch's taste in movies — but didn't forbid it. Instead he lifted the hairbrush and started spanking with it.

He was making up for lost time.

Joshua whined and clung to the leg of the chair as the pleasant ache in his bottom was overwritten by real punishment. His own legs kicked up, without consulting his brain for permission, and put his feet in the way. His heels couldn't quite reach his bottom, but they could serve as a barrier.

"Feet on the floor, Tatham, or I'll go get that ruler and stripe your soles."

His legs kicked back down, even faster than they'd lifted.

"Good boy." Henry took advantage of getting access back by targeting Joshua's sit spots.

Joshua twisted, but Henry had him tight around the waist. He whimpered and gasped as the hairbrush did its rounds of his bottom,  stoking that ache up to a blistering burn. "Ah! Point made, s— master!"

"No. Not yet." Henry kept up his unrelenting pace. "I'm going to make you a very sorry little brat, Tatham. I've been spanked enough for running my mouth that I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't give you just as much for the same."

Tears had always been the cue for Joshua's real punishments to end before, so he allowed them to well up in his eyes. He sniffled pitifully.

Henry didn't hesitate, just kept smacking the brush down. "That's it, hon— um, Joshua. All you need to do for me is feel this sore bottom I'm giving you and think about why. Cry all you like, you're paying for a month and a half of bratting, this isn't over until you surrender."

Joshua's heart sank. They'd covered the stages of a spanking in class, even though the assumption was that they'd be mostly receiving. Birch, Sadie and the handful of other people who'd punished him had always stopped at the first sign of proper distress, but he knew in theory that there was a whole extra stage that would only end when he stopped fighting and squirming. This would be the first time anyone took him that far.

He didn't mention that. Henry was struggling with this enough without adding another pressure.

Instead, Joshua just let himself throw the tantrum he'd been forcing down. His arms and legs lashed out, though he was careful not to hit Henry or cover his arse again. His crying became noisier, probably audible outside the room.

His bottom didn't get any sort of reprieve.

Henry hugged him close and continued the barrage of burning swats.

"Bastard!" Joshua spluttered through his tears, then wailed miserably as Henry tipped him slightly further forward and progressed down to smack his thighs with a long stay in that tender little crease just under his bum.

"Let it all out, honey,' Henry encouraged. "I've got you. You're not going anywhere until you're too sore to be anything but a very good little boy. All that naughtiness smacked right out."

That was another one borrowed from Birch. Joshua suspected some of the other parts had been nicked from Tricia or Marshall or even Flick.

Scolding plagiarism was low on his priority list though. He was shocked to find how quickly his fight ran out. After only a few thwacks of the brush against his thighs, Joshua found himself collapsing. No more kicking and flailing, just sobbing his heart out, limp over Henry's knee.

The spanking stopped the moment he did so, but the crying wasn't going anywhere soon.

Henry's right hand rested on his tailbone. "Aw, did that hurt, honey? Were you naughty and did you get a big, nasty spanking?" His usual sharp tone made it sound a bit mocking, but the way he was still hugging Joshua made up for it.

Joshua nodded. "Sorry!" he hiccuped.

He startled as Henry lifted him up, only managing a few steps to drop him on the bed.

"All forgiven, honey, I promise," Henry told him, sitting down beside him. "Look, I can get Flick if you'd rather aftercare from him? I know I'm not ..."

"No!" Joshua twisted onto his side and made grabby hands at Henry. "You made me cry, you kiss it better. That's the rules."

Henry rolled his eyes, but laid down next to him. "I'm not kissing your arse, brat. Roll over, I want to be the big spoon for a fucking change."

Kicking his trousers fully off, Joshua rolled, then snuggled back against Henry's chest. His bottom felt like it had been thoroughly minced, so he tucked it as far away from Henry's crotch as possible. If it had stayed at the fun level, he might have tried to be a little bit of a tease. It wasn't like he was exclusive with Birch or Chalk, the fact they were with each other too proved that. And Lamb was very vocal about how open his, Marshall and Henry's whole thing was.

He wasn't sure what to say. Birch would have been balls deep inside him by that point and Sadie or Flick were complete steamrollers with aftercare. Joshua would be rubbed with an excess of arnica cream, made to drink a whole glass of water and force fed a snack. Regardless of how he felt about it.

Henry just seemed very reluctant to let go. He was clutching Joshua like he was a teddy bear and his pulse was as fast as if he'd been running.

"So ..." Joshua said after a long moment and no sign of Henry relaxing. "... Honey?"

A flinch and slightly tighter squeeze. "I should have asked before we started, I know," Henry apologised. "Sorry. It was kinda improv."

Joshua shook his head. "I liked it, s— master." Now that he'd come through the crying and the ache had settled down a bit, he could honestly say he liked the whole experience. He felt stripped clean. All the naughtiness smacked out, like Henry had said. "Thank you."

Henry huffed a quiet laugh against his neck. "You got nothing to thank me for. I went on a fucking power trip and gave you a punishment for something I've done to you a whole lot more."

"Shut the fuck up," Joshua told him, trying for stern and sure he'd missed. "That was what I needed. Not what I thought I wanted when we started, but better. And, yeah, most of the time you act like a brat, but I'm really not complaining if you want to go all mean Top on my arse sometimes." He nuzzled his cheek against Henry's arm. "That was brilliant. Can't believe you still haven't passed your licence with skills like that."

"You're ... easier? Than the random brats we get assigned for the test." Henry's hand splayed over Joshua's hip, rubbing the edge of the red portion with his thumb. "I know you. I've watched you get smacked enough that I could copy Flick or Birch's techniques."

Joshua gasped and bucked against his touch. "I know you haven't watched me get smacked like that, master. No one else has taken me that far."

Henry froze for a moment, then recovered, pressing his thumb into a bruise. "That's because you're a good boy, honey. You brat so bloody sweetly it makes me sick. Those little claws don't come out very often and, when they do, they're usually pointed in my direction. You haven't earned a punishment as hard as the one I just gave you. Not even today. I was very unfair to you."

"You were," Joshua agreed happily. "Do it again."

"Right now, honey?" Henry pushed him over onto his front and laid his hand over Joshua's buttock, squeezing just enough to reignite the soreness. "I'll have to spread your legs and smack those inner thighs if you want more before all this redness has faded."

Joshua threw a hand back and swatted at Henry's wrist. "Noooo! 'nother time, master! I'm sore now!"

Henry turned the squeeze into a gentle rub. "And whose fault is it that you're all sore?"

The bratty answer was too obvious not to say. "Yours, master."

"That's right, honey. I made you so very red back here. You should really see how lovely you look." Henry didn't sound entirely convincing as he said it, more like it was what he thought he was supposed to say than his real feelings. "Would you like some arnica to help it feel better quicker?"

Joshua didn't need to consider the choice long. He couldn't think of another time where he'd been asked if he did or didn't. Presumably he could safe out of it, yellow and ask to keep his bruises, but Flick and Sadie were certain it was required in every circumstance and Birch was insistent that it was necessary for cane welts and Joshua wasn't against it enough to argue.

"No, thank you, master," Joshua said. "I'd like to keep feeling you as long as possible."

Henry's breath hitched. "Fucking hell." He lay down over Joshua's back to hug him tight. "You're so much sweeter than I deserve, honey."

Joshua squirmed a little. He could live without the compliments. "Can I have some water?"

"Of course." Henry jumped up, then hesitated. "You okay with me going to the kitchen or would you prefer if I yelled at one of the wankers out there to fetch it and I don't go further than the door?"

"Yell at the wankers," Joshua said, because that was more entertaining and Henry was obviously reluctant to get out of even touching distance.

He remembered that time Sadie had got in trouble for safing out of aftercare with Henry and it was really clear that, as a Top, he needed the reassurance more than Joshua did.

Joshua would be happy to be left alone now he'd calmed down. The hug had been necessary while he was crying, but now he just wanted to hydrate and sleep. Maybe masturbate. Even if it had been too hard to enjoy in the moment, the memory and lingering ache were reminding him that he'd been denied release twice.

Henry went to the door and opened it just enough to stick his head out. "Hey! Kells! We need water and sugar." Keller's response was inaudible, but a moment later, Henry snapped, "Why the fuck would I know what Joshua likes? Just stick some Jaffa Cakes on a plate or whatever."

Okay, that had to be deliberate. Joshua knew those weren't Henry's first choice, but those were definitely his. If he really hadn't known, he'd have picked one of his own favourites.

Joshua yawned and stretched out on his bed. "Tell them I'm too sore to go back out and help tidy," he told Henry's back.

Keller appeared in the doorway, peering past Henry to very blatantly check on Joshua.

"Tell them yourself," Henry grumbled, snatching the water bottle and plate from Keller. "Since they've decided you're a fucking zoo exhibit to stare at."

Joshua gave Keller a reassuring thumbs up and shifted to make sure he got an eyeful of his backside.

Keller patted Henry on the shoulder. "Good work, little porcupine. We'll make a Tamer out of you someday."

"Did you know a baby porcupine is called a porcupette?" Alfred contributed from close enough behind Keller that he had to be trying to get a glimpse too.

Henry gave Joshua a horrified look. Yeah, he was doomed. No way anyone who heard that fact wasn't going to call him that until the end of time. Joshua included.

Keller turned around. "Shoo, all of you. Tatham's alive and might sit sometime this week, which is more than I can say for anyone who doesn't give him privacy." He glanced over his shoulder. "Joshua, if Keen doesn't behave like an absolute gentleman, let me know and I'll bust his prickly arse for him." One big hand patted Henry's backside. "Look after both of you, porcupette."

With a huff and eye roll, Henry slammed the door, then hurried back over to Joshua. A lot of tension bled out of Henry's body as he helped him sit up. "Kells should be spanking himself," Henry grumbled. "He was the one not allowing you privacy."

Joshua put his hand over Henry's as he curled his legs to the side to keep as much pressure off his sore bum as possible. "I don't mind them seeing, master. I'd go out there dressed like this and let them all have a close look and even touch if I thought it'd help them work out that you did a good job on me."

Henry scowled at the plate Keller had handed him as he gave Joshua the water bottle. Scattered between the Jaffa Cakes were chocolate fingers. Keller had been paying attention to people's preferences too.

Yawning again, Joshua reached out and booped Henry's nose. "You're grounded, master. No leaving until I say. I want to be snuggled until I fall asleep and then it would be very rude to leave before I wake up, okay?" He wasn't fussed, this extra affection was all for Henry's benefit, but they'd both find it easier if they pretended it was Joshua's requirement.

With a sigh he definitely didn't really mean, Henry nodded, then held a Jaffa Cake in front of Joshua's mouth. "Open and no biting, brat. And careful with the crumbs, if I'm sharing your bed, I refuse to share it with little bits of biscuit. Or cake. Whichever this shit is meant to be."

Joshua accepted the treat, kissing Henry's fingertips before he pulled away.

Henry wiped his hand on his shirt. "Stop being so cute, Tatham."

"Never, Master Porcupette."

Henry fed him another Jaffa Cake to shut him up. Success.

Chapter Text

"Not so tough without your boyfriend to protect you."

Sadie slowly looked up from where she'd been washing her hands and into the bathroom mirror. Behind her Spooner met her reflected eyes and smirked.

She wasn't alone. Spooner had brought a few minions with her. Cherry Namgung of course, acting the faithful shadow, plus the other girl from Heidi's dorm, Warwick, and Warwick's usual class partner who Sadie didn't know the name of.

Four burgundy blazers. And Sadie was very much alone.

None of them were especially physically threatening, but even the shortest, Warwick, all soft blonde curls and sharp edges everywhere else, was a little taller than Sadie. Outnumbered, it felt very dangerous.

Warwick's friend, tall and curvy with dyed silver streaks in her dark hair, rolled her eyes and pointedly shut herself in a bathroom stall. Warwick, a sharp contrast to her friend in more ways than just the physical, leaned against the main door, smiling like a shark as she watched.

Sadie began to turn around. The tap shut off automatically. There were still soap suds on her hands.

Spooner caught her shoulder, forcing her back to face the sink and mirror. "No," she said, playfully scolding. "What's going to happen is that you lean forward, push your cute bottom out and take a spanking on the bare for threatening me in class. That was very naughty of you. Setting Skelp on me and pretending this isn't what you want. Present."

"Get your hand off me," Sadie snapped. She shrugged her shoulder to dislodge Spooner.

The hand did move away, only to return with serious force to get backside. Sadie gasped at the swat.

"Red!" Maybe it would be smarter to bend over and take it. Sadie had had spankings for literally nothing but Bas or Indira's enjoyment before, but it was different. She wasn't sure she could pinpoint the exact difference, just that there was a major one.

Spooner huffed in annoyance and lifted her hand again. "Stop lying to me. That'll be extra."

Sadie braced. The next smack she'd take the opportunity to rear back. Headbutt Spooner in the face, if she was lucky she'd break her nose. They might outnumber her, but she'd been in tight spots with bullies before. Get Spooner bleeding or reeling, Cherry would be too shocked to step in and Warwick could be intimidated out of the way of the door. Sadie would likely get a strapping for fighting, but she'd prefer that to submitting now. Taking a spanking from Spooner would just encourage her.

The next smack never landed.

Cherry caught Spooner's arm. "Erin. Stop."

Even Sadie froze instinctively at the authority in her tone.

"She safed," Cherry said, no room for argument. "I know you were right next to me for all the lessons we've had on consent. A red means you stop. No debate, no assuming they didn't mean it, no continuation."

Sadie turned around, getting her backside against the sink counter. "Red," she repeated. "Don't spank me. Don't touch me. Don't call me a brat. I'm giving you a very explicit lack of consent. Walk away now and I won't report this."

"I will." Cherry let go of Spooner's arm. "This isn't the first time I've needed to remind you what red means, Erin."

Spooner's voice raised, taking on that same tone she'd used in their last class to shout Cherry into letting her 'win' spanking the theoretical brat. "You know what she's like! She got me punished and it's not fair that she doesn't want to make it even!"

This time Cherry wasn't fazed. "You got yourself spanked for speaking out of turn and arguing with Skelp. Burns doesn't owe you anything and if she doesn't want to play, she doesn't want to play." She turned to Sadie. "Would you come with me to see Skelp? Present your side of the story."

Still careful not to turn her back on Spooner, Sadie rinsed the soap off her hands before replying. "Yes. Thank you, Namgung."

"What about me?!" Spooner looked utterly betrayed. "Cherrrrrry! You can't!"

"You're welcome to come along and share your version," Sadie said, giving her a disgusted look. "And then when Skelp decides this is a strapping offence, you'll be immediately available."

Spooner took a step backwards. "It was literally just —"

"Overriding my safeword and making me think I might have to fight my way out of this situation?" Sadie spat. "Yeah. I don't give a fuck how you try to spin it, even if I was a Bottom, I'd never scene with someone who disrespects me like that." She took advantage of the backing off to head for the exit. Warwick only needed a single glare before she darted out of the way.

Cherry followed, giving Spooner a disappointed look when she didn't try to join them.

Sadie wasn't sure she'd be jumping to face Skelp if she knew she was in the wrong and the strap was waiting.

The two girls fell into step, not talking and grim with the weight of what they were about to do.

One doing the right thing even though it would likely lose her her best friend and the other resigned to the inevitable title of victim.

"I'm sorry you've had a shitty day," Indira said, combing her fingers through Sadie's hair. "Do you need me to take you down?"

Sadie shifted, her knees indenting a new section of the cushion on the floor at Indira's feet. "I'm not sure, ma'am. I don't feel ..."

"Submissive?" Indira suggested.

"Yeah." Like, kneeling there was nice, especially with the hair petting, but Sadie could feel all her defences ready to snap up.

"Would you like to take someone else down?" Indira offered.

Would she —?

"Who?" Joshua was over at Birch and Chalk's yet again. Lamb was still stuck in too much punishment owed limbo. Albert didn't mesh with Sadie's style. Henry bit.

"Leon," Indira raised her voice slightly. "Can you come here, please?"

Marshall appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, drying his hands on a tea towel. "How much here, ma'am?" He was shirtless behind an apron and looked nervous. Guilty even.

"How would you feel about a practice session with Sadie?" Indira asked instead of specifying.

He tossed the towel somewhere behind him. "Green. As long as you're supervising, ma'am."

"Anything you want to veto?"

Marshall's eyes flicked to Sadie, drilling into her. "No, ma'am. Just my usual red list. What does she need to practice?"

There was silence for a long moment before Sadie realised Indira expected her to answer. "Um ..." Top/Top negotiation was what she was covering in class, but she was good at that. Or Keller was good enough at it to make her feel like she was. And she didn't want to play as equals. "Just general topping, I guess."

He moved further into the room and Sadie was a bit surprised to discover he was wearing trousers, despite his lack of shirt. "I mean do you want a brat or a good boy, ma'am? Real discipline or fun? Would you like to spank me, fuck me or both or neither? I'm up for any combination of those, but I need to know beforehand. Set the scene."

"Brat," Sadie said, the only part she was certain on. She didn't have a scene in mind. Indira and Bas had both taken the director role and her occasional messing abouts with Lamb and Joshua tended to just be a spanking without any roleplay. Or, usually, specific reason. Real punishment wasn't something she'd needed to give yet.

Marshall read her hesitation slightly wrong. "Whatever fantasy you want fulfilled, just say it. Worst I'll do is say no because it crosses a red line for me. I don't kinkshame and if I laugh, you have my full permission to wash my mouth out. Plus any other punishment you think appropriate."

She took a deep breath. "Real discipline. No sex."

"Green, but just a moment, ma'am," Marshall said. He reached behind him to untie his apron as he headed back into the kitchen to presumably put it away.

"Brave," Indira commented, rewarding Sadie by leaning down to kiss the top of her head. Sadie lifted her face for a proper kiss on the lips. She melted into it, taking the claim of her mouth like a good girl. Her eyes closed.

The only warning of Marshall's return were his footsteps, which stopped very close to her. 

A second later, Sadie jerked away from Indira and shrieked. The large ice cube fell away from the back of her neck, landing on the floor and leaving a trickle of too cold water to make its way down her spine.

Marshall smirked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "You asked for real, ma'am."

Sadie shuddered as the icy dribble pooled against the back of her bra. She'd mostly meant that she wanted to keep it semi-platonic. The sort of level she played at with Joshua, where she knew she was turning him on, but didn't do anything about it. From Indira's comments, she knew Marshall was at least as much a masochist, likely more.

But, well, Indira had been right when she'd said that Sadie managed best with a live brat.

She grabbed the ice cube off the carpet as she stood up. "Since turnabout is fair play, Leon, can I assume temperature play isn't on your red list?"

"It isn't, ma'am. Green." He stood straight backed as she closed the short distance between them. Marshall was a different kind of brat to those she'd dealt with before. Joshua would have collapsed into giggles by now and Lamb had so little patience he'd have thrown himself over the nearest surface already.

Marshall put arrogance into every line of his posture and smirk. Yeah, he'd acted out of line, now what was she going to do about it?

He hissed as she pressed the ice cube to one of his nipples, but didn't break position. The only other sign that he felt it was an increase in the speed of his breathing. His chest heaved when she pulled away, both nipples pebbles into hardness.

Sadie dropped the ice cube into her empty tea mug. "Did you like that, Leon?"

"Yes, ma'am." He got control of his breathing, slow and steady. "I'm not easy to punish. Your best bet is a switch. That gives me the shortest amount of enjoyment before it just hurts."

Indira nodded confirmation when Sadie glanced at her.

"I haven't used a switch before," Sadie admitted.

"Would you like to learn?' Indira offered. "Or I can lock his dick up and you can use an implement you're more familiar with?"

"The ... the first one, please." Sadie noticed Marshall's wince, but it had been his suggestion. "Um, do I need to like go and cut one?"

"Cutting one is a lesson for once you know you like it." Indira stood up and headed to her cupboard of toys. The one in her living room was small, but well organised. Despite that, she spent a few moments rummaging, lifting up other things to consider. A thick paddle, a thicker dildo ...

Sadie's face heated up at how casually Indira was handling them and she caught Marshall giving her a knowing look.

He leaned close and spoke quietly. "What's your favourite, ma'am?"

"I, um ... Favourite what?" Sadie didn't have a favourite implement. Mostly she used her hand, but she wouldn't say that was a preference.

"Favourite toy for Indira to use on you when she wrecks you," Marshall specified. He twisted around so Sadie could see his back. It was faintly red from his shoulders to the bottom of his ribcage, which explained why he was avoiding shirts. "Mine's a flogger. Preferably paired with one of her more inhuman strap-ons."

Sadie gaped at him. She'd been worried that Marshall would resent her for having to share Indira's attention. Maybe he was telling her to make her feel like she couldn't compete with his masochism, but his tone was relaxed and friendly. Curious.

"Leon, back off," Indira ordered, returning with a switch made of some synthetic material. "You don't have to hit on my other partners. I don't hit on yours."

Marshall turned to the sofa, hands quickly busy with the fly of his cargo pants. "Maybe you should, ma'am. Henry could do with a whole lot more discipline and that's not really my style."

"Can he take it like a Top?" Indira handed the switch to Sadie.

Whatever that meant. Sadie wasn't sure what the difference was between a Top bottoming and a Bottom bottoming, just that Indira was only into the former. Surely a Top who bottomed was just a Switch?

Marshall, definitely a Switch, shrugged. "He tops hard from the bottom, but seems to think he's just bottoming when he does. If he wasn't gay, I'd say he'd be into you, but I just meant pure punishment." He grinned over his shoulder at Sadie and yanked his trousers and underwear down. "Speaking of?"

Sadie gripped the switch like it was a comfort blanket. "I'd appreciate you waiting for my orders in future, Leon. Bend over, forearms on the sofa seat."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am." He obeyed, settling into the position with his legs spread wide and no sign of embarrassment.

Indira kicked them closer together. "You might think you want the switch to catch the back of your balls, Leon, but you're wrong. I use it a lot lighter on your most sensitive areas. Sadie, you've felt a switch before, so we can skip that part of the lesson. Give it a swing, not at him yet."

It hissed through the air, cutting worryingly easily with just a little force. Sadie could hold it like she would a ruler, but, from that first try, she knew it was a much nastier implement. That knowledge hadn't really sunk in when she'd been on the other end, a switching might be Marshall's shortest enjoyment to punishment, but it was Sadie's longest.

"Does that feel comfortable?" Indira asked.

"Yes, ma'am." A little too comfortable. Sadie didn't want to get complacent with a totally new implement.

"You don't want to draw it too far back," Indira advised, adjusting Sadie's posture for her and giving her a starting point much closer to Marshall than she'd have assumed. "More of a flick of the wrist than a wild swing. Thin and whippy is a great combination for drawing blood, so, if you don't want that, you need to minimise your range. Try it against an inanimate object next."

Sadie stepped to the side and chose her target. One of the cushions on the sofa. She took position, holding the switch at a similar starting point to the one Indira had just shown her.

"That's it," Indira said, warm with pride. "Go on."

The narrow and flexible switch only needed a little prompting from Sadie to whistle against the cushion. It left a neat line of indentation that could only be called horizontal because it wasn't quite far enough to be diagonal.

Marshall jumped at the sound of impact, shifting away instinctively.

"Excellent," Indira told her. "Next step is your own thigh. Hard enough that it stings, but not that you can't take."

With a deep breath, Sadie lifted the switch and brought it down against her thigh. She knew she'd automatically pull the hit and tried to compensate.

Too far.

Her brain whited out.

"Fuck!" Sadie gasped, barely resisting the urge to throw the switch across the room. The stripe on her leg pulsed.

Indira was in her personal space a moment later, undoing Sadie's trousers and drawing them down just far enough that she could see the mark the switch had left. It was a livid red, but hadn't broken the skin.

Sadie shivered as Indira traced the welt with a gentle thumb. "You made it feel so good, ma'am, how ...?"

"Practice," Indira said, her hand continuing all the way around Sadie's leg, then lifting off to give her a hard swat. "Use that much force on Leon and I'll take that switch back and see what you can learn on the other end. Try again on your thigh, bare this time."

Marshall twisted around to watch, wincing in sympathy when he saw the welt Sadie had given herself.

The second attempt was far more manageable. Sadie hissed and the muscle in her thigh jerked, but the line that was left behind was a far lighter shade and she felt a slight stirring of arousal. Not as good as being at Indira's mercy, but a sign she was heading in the right direction.

"That's better, pet." Indira checked the second stripe with the same method of running her thumb along it. She went from the outside leg to the inner this time, culminating in brushing her hand up between Sadie's legs for a teasing stroke over her knickers. "Just right for a naughty little boy. Make Leon cry without going too hard and you can pick two toys for your reward."

Marshall wriggled his bottom. "Green, whenever you're ready, ma'am."

Indira pulled Sadie's trousers back up for her and did them up. "He's all yours, Sadie. I won't intervene unless you ask me to or I think there's a danger." She had to tip toe slightly to kiss Sadie's cheek. Without her heels, Indira stood at five foot nothing, but she held them both under her sway easily. It was rare that Sadie was the mean average height in any group, but Marshall's 5'6 contribution made her so.

Sadie took position behind him, hesitant. She glanced at Indira for an approving nod before she dared flick the switch at the bare bottom before her.

Marshall twitched and a similar line to her second attempt blossomed on his backside. It didn't reach all the way across, but Sadie thought it was a good first try.

The switch sprung forward again with almost unconscious intent. From her own experience taking it from Indira, Sadie knew the switch could be used much faster. Strokes landing so they were felt as a solid wall of increasing pain.  Accuracy sacrificed for intensity.

Sadie tested that, flicking it down twice with a vague aim at his sit spots. Both landed high, licking only slightly below the crest of his arse.

He shifted his feet back slightly, stretching the skin she'd actually wanted to get tighter and creating a better target.

"Colour?" Sadie checked in rather than take what he was offering.

"So fucking green, ma'am," Marshall answered, his voice thick with need. "Starting to think I actually do like the switch, just not the way Indira uses it."

Sadie tried not to feel defeated. Maybe she was just a fun Top. She could live with that label. Play exclusively with masochists and leave brat control to the tougher Tamers. It might not be what she wanted exactly, but it wasn't a terrible fate either.

Marshall actually moaned at the next stroke, even though it landed in that sensitive crease he'd helpfully stretched wider just for her. "I'll have to stock up on ice cubes if this is how you're going to punish me, ma'am," he said after a moment.

She bit back her annoyance and continued steadily. They'd either reach the point where he stopped enjoying it or he'd cum. Either way she intended to keep going until she got unhappy tears, Indira's intervention or Marshall's safeword.

A handful more cracks of the switch, clustered around his sit spots, and Marshall shuffled his feet again. "Mm, feels good, m— ah!"

Sadie caught the meat of one thigh while he was still talking.

"Ma'am," he finished with a melodramatic sigh.

His shifting let her catch a glimpse of a very important fact. Despite the way he was acting, Marshall wasn't hard.

He was bluffing.

Bratting.

Sadie took a step closer and trailed a finger down his spine.

Marshall shivered.

"You're lying to me, Leon," Sadie said, reaching his hair and tugging sharply. "Trying to get out of a well-deserved punishment by pretending to enjoy it. That's even more naughty than the original offence, don't you think?"

She waited patiently until he bit out a reluctant "Yes, ma'am."

"I told you I wanted real punishment and no sex and you're bratting as close to the boundary I set as possible." Sadie didn't take her eyes or hand off him as she asked, "Indira, would you please grab a toy he doesn't like?"

Their Top didn't even need to head back to the cupboard, she just dipped a hand into her blazer pocket and came out with a pair of nipple clamps. Indira deposited them in Sadie's hand when she let go of Marshall's hair to hold her palm out flat.

"Thank you, ma'am. Leon, hold still." Sadie was a bit surprised by the crack of authority in her own voice. She didn't permit Marshall to rise, just calmly snapped the little teeth onto him where he was, making sure it was secure. He whimpered when she moved around to his other side and drew the connecting chain through and under to clip onto his other nipple. Sadie lightly tugged the thin chain that hung between them, enjoying her reward of a second whimper.

"Ready to be honest with me, Leon?" Sadie asked. "Or do I need to add weights to pull those clamps even tighter around your sore little nipples?"

"I'll be good, ma'am," he promised quickly. His head bowed. "I was just trying to say, uh, you can go a bit harder."

She shifted the switch back into her dominant hand and brought it down with a little more force. Not as hard as her first attempt on herself, but he groaned and his head dropped to rest on the sofa cushion.

Indira gave her a nod, confirming that strength was okay.

Sadie got into a rhythm, picking up speed, but not force, as she continued. It was almost mediative. Lift, fall, lovely little noise of pain, lift, fall.

Only when Marshall stamped his foot did Sadie pause again. His arse wasn't quite a solid colour, but the thready stripes criss crossed the whole surface. An abstract painting on the subject of discipline.

"You're taking this very well, Leon," Sadie praised him. "Keeping position and no arguments about what you deserve."

"Thank you, ma'am." His voice was too clear, no sign of tears.

Sadie rested her free hand on his tailbone, using the excuse of pushing him forward a little when she just wanted to touch him. He was warm and trembling slightly under her. The urge to possess rose in a way it never had with anyone else. She wanted more than his obedience, she wanted him to break.

"Remind me why I'm punishing you, Leon." She trailed the end of the switch over one buttock and all the way down to his thigh. "Ask for more."

The noise he made was suspiciously amused. "You're punishing me because you asked me to give you an excuse to and I did, ma'am. And I'm very happy to take it. I really don't mind acting as a proxy for the person you actually want to punish if it gets me whipped like this, ma'am."

Sadie flicked his thigh sharply, leaving a pink line on the skin she'd left alone earlier. "I told you to be honest. No lying about enjoying it."

Marshall flinched. "I get satisfaction out of being hurt by a sadist too, ma'am. Being taken beyond my own enjoyment and finding yours. More like a job well done than arousal. And you're doing a very good job too. A bit more down my thighs and I'm not going to hold back my reactions."

She didn't entirely believe him. If he let go of control the exact way he predicted, it would feel like pity. Play acting to soothe her ego.

"I told you to ask for more, Leon, not give me orders on how to give you it." Sadie moved the switch back up to his sit spots and gave them a few very light flicks. "Do you want me to make you cry or do you want to me to call it here?"

He lifted his head to look back at her, his eyes damp. "Make me cry, please, ma'am. Want that release more than ... y'know. Please may I have more?"

Sadie's heart went out to him. "Thank you for asking so nicely, darling. Let's finish warming up your naughty bottom for messing around with ice." She swished the switch again, catching his undercurve while aiming almost upwards.

Marshall gave a ragged gasp and rose onto his tiptoes just in time to get another in the same spot. Sadie's aim was getting better. She decided she liked using a switch. It didn't require much strength, but left a very nasty sting. Marshall's cocky demeanour had been stripped away pretty quickly and he was a bonafide masochist.

And Sadie was discovering that her sadism wasn't limited to enjoying it when her Bottom was too. He whimpered as the switch danced up his backside, trying to fill in those little strips of unhurt skin and catching a whole lot of already deep pink on the way. It was one of the best sounds she'd heard, but that first broken sob as it became too much was even better.

His whole body trembled as the tears came, but he held position, continuing to offer himself for chastisement. Sadie took only a few more swings, a token continuation so he wouldn't learn to start crying early just to make it finish. The switch clattered onto the coffee table as she chose to prioritise the punished brat.

"Good boy," Sadie said, moving to his side and petting his back, hoping she wasn't aggravating his flogger marks.  "All done and forgiven, Leon. Would you like a cuddle?"

He nodded, crying too hard to manage words and leaned into her when she tried to help him upright. Sadie sat on the sofa and he scrunched up as small as possible to curl against her side. She held him close, moving the petting up to his hair.

"You were amazing," she added. "Just what I wanted. Next time ... um, if you want to play again, I mean ..."

Marshall huffed and nudged his nose against her shoulder. "Green, ma'am." His voice was thick with tears, but confident.

Sadie relaxed, relieved it had been good for him too, even if in a very different way. "Next time you can pick the game," she promised. "I'd ..." She took a deep breath, finding her courage. "You can even top if you'd like."

He shifted, kicking his clothes off his ankles and getting onto his knees, still leaning heavily against her. "I'll have to see what mood I'm in at the time, ma'am. Trade kink lists properly too. Indira would be two for three on turning Tops into Switches if you end up here too."

The short sleeve of her blouse was getting soaked, but Sadie just kept stroking his hair. Whenever she'd seen him getting affection after a scene with Indira, he'd been knelt at her feet like Sadie had been earlier, with his head in her lap and hair being petted. Judging by the soft noise he made as he went boneless against her shoulder, she'd made the right call.

"We can stay like this until you're ready to get up, darling," Sadie told him. "As long as you need. But I'm going to need you to drink a big glass of water soon, okay? Along with a drink you'd actually like. We need to replenish all these lovely tears."

He hmmmed in acknowledgement, then hiccupped. "Thank you, ma'am," he mumbled. She felt his smile against her arm. "You know I'm going to brat at you forever now?"

The arm she wasn't using to stroke his hair slipped down from around his waist and she gently squeezed his bum, the skin radiating more heat than she'd expected. "And when you do, I'll make you just as sore and worn out. This is how I treat naughty little brats to help them get back to being such very good boys."

Marshall squirmed a little.

Sadie smiled fondly. When they'd first met, she'd been a bit intimidated by him. He'd been sharp, sarcastic and openly sadistic in a way that had been new and scary. Ratting them out for letting Lamb go to the Freshers Fair and obviously eager to see them take punishment for it.

But now, after her clumsy first attempt at real taming, he was soft and sweet and sleepy. His bottom was pink, shading to red in places, and there was something very cute in the way he'd knelt so his weight shifted to the side and not onto it.

"Well done, darlings," Indira said, sitting down on the other side of Marshall and holding up a tube of arnica. "This is going on. No arguing, either of you."

Sadie hadn't been about to, but Marshall made a grumbling noise. Without really thinking, she swatted him. "Use your words, little boy. Is there a problem? Do you not want me touching you like that?"

"Touch me however you like," he told her shoulder. "Want to keep the sore."

"Oh, that's sweet." Sadie rubbed the spot she'd just smacked. "This is going to be plenty sore even with a layer of arnica to reduce the chances of bruising. Now, be a good boy and let me look after you or I'll ask for my next lesson to be using a switch on your inner thighs."

His legs squeezed together instinctively. "Prefer it between my cheeks, ma'am."

Sadie shifted back slightly and patted her lap. "Over you go, darling. You're going to get lots of cream while Indira goes to get you those drinks. And if you can take it without wriggling about or reaching back, you can have a few hand swats between your cheeks, okay? Colour?"

Marshall lifted his head. "Green hardly covers it, ma'am. Yes, please."

He was really very sweet. Once the attitude had been smacked out of him at least.

Sadie could hardly wait to do it again.

Chapter Text

Joshua gave Drubber a wide grin. "No, I'm serious, sir. But I specifically want Keen. We're not involved, just dormmates, but he'll do better with a Bottom he's familiar with."

Drubber hummed, unconvinced. "Usually we try to specifically test Tops with unfamiliar Bottoms. He'll be expected to work with them in nearly all his Applied Discipline practicals. And without his licence, there's no way he'll be allowed to continue that degree."

"He's getting there slowly, sir. But the real issue is that he's not getting bratting lessons until he passes." Joshua folded his arms. "He's seriously behind and doesn't have any idea where the line of what's appropriate is. All the stuff we've covered about consent and cute choices. Put me in there with him before he crosses the sort of line that turns his academic probation into an expulsion."

The Head of the Lifestyle Department was nodding before Joshua had finished speaking. "I can provide a tutor if ..."

"He's got a tutor. For his degree and his struggle to pass this dumb test. Piling more work on is just going to make him miserable and more likely to lash out."

"Joshua," Drubber said sternly. "Allow me to finish. I can provide a tutor if he has missed more than four weeks of bratting classes. Which he has. But I'll wait until he has the reduced class schedule after passing. And, if you weren't about to be demonstrated on as part of Keen's test, calling it dumb would have earned you a spanking, young man."

Feeling silly, Joshua pouted. "Thank you, sir."

Drubber's usual gentle smile returned. "And perhaps some time contemplating the corner will teach you not to interrupt when someone is speaking?"

Joshua groaned softly, but headed for one of the corners of Drubber's office. All four were clear of furniture, just in case he needed to handle that many brats at once. He laced his fingers on the back of his neck, hoping he wouldn't get the order to lower his drop seat too.

No such luck.

"Ah, just have to check, Joshua, when were you last spanked? May I see if there are any marks remaining?"

Undoing his drop seat was fast becoming muscle memory. It did what its name implied and flopped down, baring his cheeks for the scrutiny of Drubber and the few brats he was supervising while the licence tests went on in his classroom next door. 

There were few enough students yet to pass that booking out a whole exam hall was excessive.

Joshua squirmed as his bottom was examined. Birch had played with him a little last night, but the faint blush had faded by morning and it was now late afternoon.

Henry would be aching though. Birch had given him double maintenance to make up for his running off with Lamb last week postponing it.

"Good boy, Tatham, your bottom is nice and clear. Emerson, it seems you won't be needed." Drubber tapped the schedule on his desk. "Let's get you booked in some other time."

The named brat groaned, but went over to discuss timings. Obviously one of the ones volunteered by a teacher as a punishment. Most of the test brats were.

Joshua relaxed into the corner time. He wasn't thinking about what he was supposed to, but about something that had been said last night while they'd been fooling around after delivering Henry's maintenance got Birch worked up.

At first, Joshua had been jealous of Henry's ability to take a harsh punishment, but a few weeks into the arrangement and it had proved to be a general positive. Henry got the pain that fixed his bad attitude and Joshua got Birch at his most turned on without needing to take a thrashing himself.

Between them, they made enough noise that Joshua's earlier complaints about being able to hear Lamb through the wall became hypocritical. But while Joshua had been fussing over the marks of a spanking Birch had earned in class, his Top had rolled over on top of him and laughed.

"I've had so much worse," Birch had told him, casually, while he prepped Joshua with long, nimble fingers. "We should swap worst punishment stories sometime. Chalk's ..." He shook his head and hissed through his teeth. "He tells it best, but he seriously doesn't know when to quit. But really, don't worry. Masochist, remember. Might not have been my favourite, but, well, you know how a lingering ache makes sex that bit hotter."

Joshua had distracted him by clenching around his fingers and moaning, but the thought had stuck around.

His worst punishment.

Both the possible contenders were pretty tame. The worst he'd got for real was the spanking Henry had given him after Ben's birthday party. And the worst he'd had in terms of actual effect and pain was the group scene when Birch had introduced them to the senior cane.

Even at play level, that had stung like hell. But Joshua really had nothing worth telling as even a cautionary tale.

He just ... wasn't much of a brat. The mildest tamer — Flick for example — could handle him easily. 

Joshua stewed on the topic as he waited. A couple of the other brats were taken through to the classroom and handed over to the first years who still hadn't got the hang of basic discipline. He could hear the smacking through the wall, but had no way of knowing if it had gone well.

Eventually it was his turn. Keen was right in the middle of the alphabet. Drubber did his drop seat up for him and steered him through with a gentle arm around his shoulders.

Henry froze when he saw him. "What the fuck?"

Joshua gave him a little wave.

"No." Henry turned to the teacher assessing him. Eliza Quirt, who mostly taught third and fourth year classes, but had the dubious privilege of also being one of Birch's mothers. "I don't want Tatham."

"Rude." Joshua was escorted to the area set up for the test. It was ominous to say the least. A table with a covered tray for the implements. An armless chair. A spanking bench with a triangular wedge jutting up from the middle. A set of rails, one at waist height to support the pelvis and one near the ground for holding.

Drubber peered at Henry over his tiny round glasses. "You will take what you are given, Keen. This young man was kind enough to genuinely volunteer and you are going to look him in the eye and thank him for doing so." No threat, just a certainty that that was what was going to happen.

Henry's jaw was tight as he turned his glare on Joshua. "Thank you for volunteering what the fuck are you up to?" He said it in one breath, a rush of words.

Joshua responded with his brattiest grin. "You handled me really well, master, and I thought they should see you with someone you already have chemistry with. Or at least a little applied physics."

He still looked suspicious, but Henry shrugged. "Fine. Sure. Not like I can do any shittier than my other attempts."

Drubber beamed like Henry had dropped to his knees sobbing in gratitude. "Good lad. Show Tatham that stubbornness and I look forward to seeing you in my classes soon." He clapped Henry on the shoulder. "You've got a bit of catching up to do, but that sulky attitude is just what you'll need to really shine. A good pout is worth a hundred insults."

Henry scowled after Drubber as he left. "Haven't forgotten orientation," he muttered. "Prick. Like to see how much you pout when your arse is out and you're getting smacked on fucking stage."

Joshua giggled. "You should tell him that to his face in class. Seriously, he'll love it. I mean, it'll probably get you a rerun of that punishment, but, from him, that's basically a round of applause."

Quirt cleared her throat. "Keen, whenever you're ready to start." She pulled back the cover on the tray to reveal a hairbrush, a wooden ruler and a paddle the size of a ping-pong bat. "You should be quite familiar with the procedure, but just in case you've forgotten since you failed to attend last week's test ..."

"Medical reasons," Henry snapped. "Got a note and everything." His face turned red.

Joshua carefully didn't say anything. Lamb had gone into gleeful detail about how Henry had to limp over to the medical centre and get his arse probed to prove he'd been fucked and spanked hard enough the night before that he couldn't be expected to stand or sit while taking his test. It had been Darius to intervene on the oversharing, but all he'd done was check everyone's colours. Henry had squirmed and spat out a green when pushed for an answer.

In the same situation, Joshua was pretty sure he'd just skip without permission and take the punishment for that, rather than submit to a check.

Quirt raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Reckless bottoming was the cause, I believe. You aren't the first and you won't be the last to overestimate their physical limits. Hopefully it was a good lesson in the importance of preparation."

Henry looked like he wished the floor would swallow him. "Yes, ma'am. I won't do it again."

She shook her head. "I don't mean deny yourself, Keen. Just be aware of the consequences and remember that you wouldn't get off the sofa and expect to be able to run a marathon with no practice either." Quirt tapped the tray of implements. "Or wield any of these. Which you will be doing today. I want to see you use each implement and also your hand in an escalating punishment. When you switch implements, you will also put your brat into a new position. The order, positions and duration with each is your choice. Begin."

There was an awkward silence. Henry obviously still hadn't recovered from his Disciplinary Mentor's mother giving him advice on safely getting fucked by multiple people.

Joshua wandered over to the implement table and hopped up to sit on its edge. He picked up the hairbrush and turned it over in his hands. "Keen?" With a mischievous smirk, he put on a silly, gruff 'Top' voice. "Come here, little boy. You like your Bottoms toppy, so ..."

Henry snapped out of it at the challenge. "Josh. Put that down and come here at once."

Hardly anyone shortened Joshua's name like that. He didn't hate it. Miles better than Jess at least.

He met Henry's look dead on. Maybe this wasn't how the test was supposed to go, but, like Sadie, Henry needed a live brat. Joshua had paid attention to Henry's complaints about the test and the fact he had to spank a brat without any context for what he was punishing for had featured heavily.

"Make me, master," Joshua requested.

Henry crossed to him like he'd just needed those magic words to activate his Top mode. He took the hairbrush out of Joshua's hands and clicked it firmly back into the tray. "So. You're feeling like being a naughty little boy today. What do you think happens to naughty little boys?"

Joshua's eyes danced with excitement. "They get their naughty little bottoms spanked, master."

"That's right, honey." They'd snapped back into the roles they'd tested out the night of Ben's party. "Lie back on the table."

Curious about where that was going, Joshua obeyed, his spine arching to counterbalance the legs still dangling off the edge.

Henry hooked one ankle up, bending Joshua's leg up towards his chest. "Hold onto this, Josh. And the other. That's it. Good boy."

Birch had fucked Joshua on his back, including a few swats during, but just spanking like that was new.

"Position one," Henry told Quirt. "Implement: hand." He smoothed the back of Joshua's trousers. "Tatham likes this too much, so I'm going to keep this light and over his clothes. Now, I know you wouldn't give me a sore brat for this test, but, just to prove I give a shit, I'm going to take a little peek at his bottom to make sure. Colour, Josh?"

"Green," Joshua said immediately. Henry knew all this, he just needed to be annoyed into proving it.

It took Henry a moment to get his drop seat open, then he lifted the flap and considered the revealed bottom for just long enough to make Joshua squirm. "Very cute and needs to be a much darker pink," Henry decided, letting the flap fall to cover him again. "This is a little reward for trying to help me, honey, before you get your real spanking for showing up here without warning."

His hand smacked down and even through his trousers it burned just right to make Joshua gasp. He got six in total, each resulting in a happy little squirm. Henry's eyes met his on the fourth, so intense Joshua was tempted to beg him to lift that flap up again and take him. But that wasn't the game and it wasn't one he really wanted to play with Henry. Especially not with his boyfriend's mother in the room.

"Up you get, honey," Henry told him, offering him a hand. "Next you're going over my lap for a session with the hairbrush. This is the real punishment. I appreciate what you were trying to do, but you shouldn't have sprung it on me without warning."

Joshua unclamped his hands from the back of his thighs, flexing them in the exercises he did periodically when drawing.

Henry backed off to let him take as long as he needed to readjust, taking the hairbrush and going to sit on the armless chair.

The drop seat hadn't been done up after the check and it flopped open as Joshua stood up. His legs were a little wobbly. "You're a prick, Keen, you know that?" he asked as he approached his doom. "Getting me ... um, worked up, then coming in hard with a real punishment."

The prick patted his leg. "You signed up for this. Not my problem if your masochistic arse loves a hand so much. Test says I have to prove I know how to use one, so it gets used."

Joshua flopped dramatically over Henry's lap. "Oh, I bet it will get used. Later, when you're in your room, thinking about my very cute bottom."

Henry's hand cracked down with a lot more force than the playful swats earlier. "Keep the bratting PG, Tatham, or I'll tell your boyfriend exactly what you said."

"Sorry, master." Joshua wriggled to get more comfortable.

He wasn't allowed to stay comfortable, Henry's left leg dropped under him, slanting his body so his bottom was the highest point. He could keep his feet on the floor and balance himself on his fingers the other side, but only just.

Henry's left arm wrapped around his waist, holding him safely. "Let's get some pink in those cheeks to warm you up, honey. We've got a whole gauntlet for you to get through." He adjusted the opening at the back of Joshua's trousers, pulling it down for clearer access to his sit spots and upper thighs, even though that made it cover the top of his bottom. The hairbrush rested against the newly exposed skin, worryingly large and solid. "Colour?"

"Green," Joshua told him again. Then some bratty daring made him add, "Give me as good as you've got, master."

The snap of the brush took his breath away. Henry was starting a lot more confidently than he had last time they'd been in this position. Joshua panted and squirmed, knowing he could rely on Henry's hug to keep him from slipping off his lap. It became too much quickly, hitting the boundary of his enjoyment and marching right past it.

There was no regret though. He couldn't be certain, but this had to be what Quirt was looking for to get Henry a pass. Lamb and Keen had argued about it loudly enough that he could eavesdrop without trying and his failure feedback had apparently been about hesitation and uncertainty.

Henry had objected to the fact he'd been paired with brats who were being punished for fuck knew what and wouldn't have chosen some utter failure of a Top to do it.

So, Joshua had chosen. He'd waltzed in and made it as clear as possible that he wanted Henry. Even someone as stuck up his own arse and certain the whole world was out to get him as Henry couldn't miss what Joshua was telling him.

I liked it last time. Do it again.

His entire bottom prickled by the time Henry decided the hairbrushing had been enough. That much from Birch in front of the rest of their clubs, watching Lawrence get his own spanking, had been enough to get Joshua to snivelling remorse, but he'd toughened up since then.

Or it was just that he wasn't feeling the same guilt for his actions and fear that it would ruin his relationship with Birch before it had even started. That version was probably more honest.

Henry put the hairbrush in his blazer pocket and rubbed Joshua's back, giving him a moment to adjust to the halt in proceedings. "There we go, honey. What a lovely red. You're being so good for me. Such a brave little boy."

He was copying Birch and Flick again. Joshua knew Henry didn't enjoy looking at spanked bottoms. Not a hint of sadism and a whole lot of certainty that he needed it to be a good Top. Mainly because Henry refused to see Flick as a good role model.

"Are you ready for the next part?" Henry asked.

Joshua made an unhappy little sound. His bottom was so very sore already and ... no. He'd committed to helping Henry and he'd see it through.

"Yes, master," he admitted.

"Okay, I need you to stand up and take a new position. Can you do that for me?"

That question crossed the thin line between topping and patronising. "You haven't broken my legs, so yeah," Joshua snapped, shoving himself off Henry's lap.

Henry looked confused for a moment, then he worked out his mistake. "You will do that for me, Tatham. Knees on the spanking bench, trousers pulled down and arse up over the wedge. If the hairbrush didn't fix your attitude, a ruler on your thighs should."

Mollified by the harsher tone, Joshua crossed to the bench with mounting trepidation. Another new position. This wasn't even one he'd been fucked in. Doggy was different from having a triangle shoved into his pelvis and being expected to just let all the blood rush to his head.

Not that a lap was a huge improvement on that front.

He undid his trousers and let them fall around his ankles before climbing onto the bench. The other side of the wedge wasn't as bad as he'd imagined, seeing it from the straight on angle. The bench on the other side was raised, creating a platform for his torso an inch or two below the peak. With a martyred sigh, Joshua took position over it.

His packer made an attempt to escape and he readjusted. Joshua couldn't imagine how much worse these positions would be if he had a delicate dick to get squished in agonising ways.

"Good boy," Henry said as he approached. "Any bratty little comments to add?"

"Give me a minute, I'll think of something," Joshua retorted.

"No, honey. I don't think I will." The ruler cracked against Joshua's upper left thigh with the final word, then returned to sting the opposite side too.

Joshua's breathing hitched and his hands opened and closed, looking for something to squeeze to help him cope as the ruler made its way down his thighs. It smarted, though not as bad as if Henry had targeted his backside again. Unpleasant, but tolerable.

Then Henry reached the point just above the knee. He paused. Then he smacked the ruler firmly down again in the spot he'd last caught and started making his way back up again.

It hurt a fuck of a lot more on the second pass. Joshua gave himself over to a mini tantrum, drumming his hands and feet and squealing with every strike.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't change Henry's mind. He continued steadily up. Back and forth, swapping between Joshua's thighs.

Once each sore spot had been reinforced, Henry paused again. "Hm. What do you think, honey? Do you need a third layer to keep that tongue under control?"

"Please! Master!" Joshua wailed. "I don't!"

Henry tapped the ruler thoughtfully. "I suppose you do still have the paddle coming. Okay, we can move on, but the slightest bit of lip and you'll get a third and fourth layer. Or you can take a third now and be as rude as you like?"

No deal. "I'll be good, master. Polite!"

Joshua could have sworn he heard a soft sigh of relief before Henry spoke. "You know the consequences if you can't keep that promise, honey. Now, when you're ready, we're going over to the rails for the last part of your spanking."

Ready didn't seem like it was coming any time this decade, but Joshua eased himself up onto his feet. His thighs protested the movement, stiff and sore from the unfamiliar position and treatment. He played up his limp and the restraint of his trousers around his ankles as he approached the rails.

Another one to make him feel his relative inexperience. The rails had been the subject of some fascination and fantasy after he'd watched Henry bent over them. Sure it was basically Birch's favourite of braced against his own legs, just with a little extra support, but the fact he'd only seen them in public places, always in a line so multiple punishments could be given at once ...

Joshua's fantasy was being one in a line of faceless Bottoms and a Top was making their way along behind them and the sound of punishment getting closer and closer.

Nothing like this.

He bent over, yet again. This one might be a worst punishment he could tell Birch about and not feel too ashamed. Everything back there ached. And it was about to get worse.

Henry paused behind him. "I'm going to finish this off with ... with ten strokes from this paddle. Um. Colour?"

A set number was both a relief and a dread. "Does it have to be so many?" Joshua asked, hating how plaintive his voice was.

"Yes, honey. I kinda didn't do enough with my hand, so I need to make up for it by showing off with the implements."

"Should've used your hand at the end, now I'm too sore to like it," Joshua pointed out.

"Professor Quirt said escalating," Henry snapped, really not appreciating the correction. "Which means I start with the lightest. One more comment about that and we'll revisit the ruler. Colour?"

"Green, but like a lime green. Verging on yellow, but not quite there." Joshua knew he was bratting close to the sun, but something about the very real risk made it that much more difficult to stop. He was starting to understand how Henry could feel like his inner brat wasn't entirely under his control.

The paddle gave Henry's feedback for him.

All the ache remaining from the hairbrush erupted into agony as the paddle crashed down. It was like waves against a sea wall at high tide in a storm. A battering that Joshua just had to cling on and take. A cascade of sensation that was simply too much to define as good or bad.

A greater surrender than any Birch had brought him to.

Ten was over faster than Joshua could comprehend. Henry hadn't gone at speed, Joshua was just too overwhelmed to keep track. The bursts of pain crescendoed and ended while he was still struggling with the fact he'd found a crossing into another sensation. The line between enjoyment and punishment had been similar, but this new one was so far beyond that.

Joshua gave a dopey smile as Henry helped him up. He leaned against his master, luxuriating in whatever the fuck he had found. The soreness of his arse and thighs seemed supremely unimportant.

Henry's voice was the only thing that could slice through the little fluffy clouds. "Talk to me, Tatham? I injure your brain? Always figured you kept it in your arse."

"I'm glad you're here, master," Joshua told him, pushing the words through the fuzziness because they were important.

"Fuck." Henry looked to Quirt, panicked. "I broke him."

Quirt smiled at them both. "No, Keen. I think you just took him down. Into subspace."

Her voice was distant, vague and unimportant like the pain, but Joshua tuned into Henry's response like it was instinct.

"Yeah, right. Subspace is a bullshit myth to make Tops and Bottoms feel shitty about their dynamic."

Joshua made a soft noise of distress. His master was angry. What had he done wrong?

Henry swore sharply again. "No, not you, honey. I'm not mad at you. You're being so incredibly good."

Huh. Being an amazing Top came with mind reading abilities. Who knew?

"You are talking," Henry informed him. "With words I can hear. Not words that make any fucking sense, but, yeah."

"Oh." Deliberately talking was much more difficult than the thinking. "What happens now?"

"Aftercare," Quirt ordered, enough authority in her tone to almost reach Joshua. "Keen, you'll need to be extra careful with him. I'd recommend close physical contact, warmth, like a blanket, and praise, along with the usual aftercare staples until he comes out of this. No further punishment or sexual contact until he's capable of explicit consent again."

Joshua giggled. "Henry wouldn't fuck me with someone else's dick."

Henry took hold of his hand. "Any idea how long I have to deal with Mr Loopy Brat?"

"It varies," Quirt replied, nice and specifically. "And be prepared for a possible drop when he does. A higher high can mean a lower low. Do you know how to —?"

"I've been dropping after these tests. Every bloody time, ma'am," Henry said, chin up like he was daring her to argue. "You've helped me get through them a couple times. I can try what I've learned from that and shout for help if it doesn't work."

Quirt nodded approvingly. "If you start dropping yourself, definitely call for help. I'll have my TA nearby, ready to step in and look after you both. Usual aftercare room."

Henry tugged Joshua's hand. "Come on, nuisance."

Joshua tried to follow, then stumbled on his clothes. Henry caught him before he could fall on his face.

"My trousers are inconvenient," Joshua informed him with great solemnity.

"Up or off?" Henry asked, then answered his own question. "Off. You need a shitton of arnica and I'm not wrestling them off again once you've got cosy." He knelt, quickly undoing Joshua's shoes and getting them off, along with his socks so he wouldn't slip.

Joshua giggled at him, wiggling his toes as his trousers were tugged over his ankles.

Henry hung Joshua's trousers over one arm and picked up his shoes with the socks tucked inside each. "Any other inconveniences I should know about?" He held out his other hand for Joshua to hold again.

"No, master, it's all very good." Joshua gave Quirt a carefree little wave as Henry towed him off to the aftercare room.

A lot of the lifestyle classrooms had one. A side room with soft beanbags on the floor and some general supplies. Arnica, bottles of water with straws, a few snack options.

It was Joshua's first time in one to actually use. He flopped onto the nearest pile of beanbags, arse up. The pain might be taking a holiday, but he knew he really should still be feeling it and didn't want it to come back because he did something stupid to make it worse.

A blanket settled over him, soft, without enough weight to hurt. Joshua turned his face to the side and dug his shoulder into the beanbag to make a sort of raised pillow for his head.

Henry crouched down next to him. "I know Quirt said close contact, but is that really what you want? I fucked your arse up pretty bad." He hesitantly reached out and moved a strand of Joshua's hair that was about to fall in his eye. "So bad you've gone all ... subspace or whatever."

Joshua blinked sleepily at him. "Fucked me up so good," he corrected. That fuzziness was already fading a bit, leaving his mind clearer. His arse started to inform him quite how unhappy it was with Henry. Unfortunately for it, the rest of him was really proud of the prick.

Close contact was obviously what Henry wanted. He hadn't pulled his hand back from Joshua's hair, instead just gently stroking it.

"Green," Joshua told him. He lifted the blanket and shifted over to make sure there was room for Henry to be fully on the beanbags too. "Cuddles now."

Consent established, Henry curled up next to and around him. He held Joshua like he'd narrowly escaped death rather than taken a rough spanking for and from him.

"You're fucking perfect," Henry grumbled into his hair. "Way too good for me."

Joshua knew there weren't any words he'd believe, so he just relaxed. Showing Henry how much he trusted him by closing his eyes and letting himself drift to sleep in his arms.

Offering utter vulnerability.

Chapter Text

Henry's birthday present was a new student card.

It had the little paddle in the corner to indicate his pass of the basic licence.

Under a red circle with a line through to indicate its suspension.

His original was better. Sure it labelled him as a failure, but it didn't make people assume he was an abuser.

He swapped it out for the new one in his wallet anyway. Since that assumption was fucking true.

Swatting strangers when he'd been told he was too incompetent to was really shitty behaviour. And the fact he'd needed Josh to get him through the test had really hammered home that Henry had no interest in disciplining anyone he didn't know. And even if he did know them, his own desire was minimal.

Joshua had some fucking nerve to call him amazing when Henry didn't even think he could continue his chosen degree with his current attitude.

Class was on and it being his birthday wasn't good enough reason to skip, so he went. Sat through an Applied Discipline lecture feeling sorry for the model for the live demonstration who had to move through a series of stress positions corrected by frequent application of Professor Whippet's crop.

Almost sorry enough to get himself in deliberate trouble to give the poor guy a break, as the other students in his class giggled and openly enjoyed the suffering. But he'd never dared to before and it wasn't happening today. Not when there had been a whole lot of murmuring at Bennett Strand's party about birthday spankings and the man himself had to stand up and apologise about being too sore to take one.

If anyone gave enough of a shit to check Henry's birthday, his arse could be in danger. Probably from Lamb or Flick.

Lamb would delight in an excuse to get sadistic at him in front of others and, if he knew, Marshall would be informed. That was the fun option. Henry could do with a good wrecking and it would be a nice step in the right direction for his rekindled relationship.

Flick was the nightmare scenario. He had probably looked up all his kids' birthdays and programmed alerts into his phone calendar on day one. As soon as he saw Henry, he'd give him a casual happy birthday and the next thing would be whichever fuckers overheard bending Henry over the nearest surface for a smacking to his bare arse.

And Henry wouldn't even safe out, because the idea was fucking thrilling.

It was why he'd skipped breakfast. Getting caught out then would've led to someone clocking his squirming in class and wanting to know why he'd been spanked. And his curiosity would get the better of him and he'd tell the truth in the rudest way he could manage and he'd get it again from a room full of budding sadists he hardly knew.

Which, to his horror, was even more thrilling.

His fantasies kept veering off towards himself getting submission thrashed into him.

It was Joshua's fault. That bastard had gone all loopy after a spanking and made Henry question if subspace could possibly be real and if, maybe, he could get there himself. He just didn't know the rules. If it needed to be hard enough to knock on the door of his upper limits of pain, it wasn't happening. But if it just needed to be intense ...

Henry was the first out of the classroom when the bell went, rushing off to lunch even though that demonstration had made him kind of queasy.

Flick's rule was two meals a day with proof. It so wasn't worth getting his arse lightly patted over, so Henry headed to the cafeteria. He joined the queue for a slice of greasy pizza and some wilted lettuce.

That, on its own, so wasn't worth using up one of his meal tickets or actual money, so he'd grab more than that and save the rest in a sandwich bag.

Food insecurity when he was a kid had made him kind of resourceful and also paranoid. And the comfort of knowing he had a stash in his dormroom was so fucking worth the thrashing he'd get if Flick found out.

As he was considering what would last the longest, a girl walked past, chatting with her friends. Henry recognised her immediately. The girl with the soup. One of the reasons his licence was suspended.

Thinking didn't happen, he just stepped out of the queue and followed her. Henry caught up with her group just outside the cafeteria. "Hey!" He didn't know her name, so he just tapped her shoulder.

Instead of reacting with reasonable disgust at a stranger touching her, she looked up at him guiltily. Just assuming he was about to punish her for whatever bratty shit she'd gotten up to recently. Her friends giggled and drew back, only seeing Henry's blazer.

"Lucky," one of them whispered to another, as though catching the interest of a Top was all that mattered.

Henry snatched his own hand away from her arm. "Look. I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

Her expression turned confused. She hadn't recognised him.

"For, um, being a douche about the soup?" Henry shouldn't have tried to make it right. That shit never ended well. "A few weeks ago. I got in your way, made you spill your lunch and then I acted like it was your fault? Dickhead behaviour. Shouldn't have smacked you for it. Probably deserved a few of my own."

She shook her head, but her confusion had cleared. "I assumed you were just flirting, sir." Whatever she'd been up to since then, her confidence had grown massively. "A transparent excuse to spank a cute bum." She looked him over, biting her bottom lip in a way someone had probably once told her was sexy. "If you want the full experience, I'm free right now. Not sore either. Yet."

Henry took a step back. He couldn't explain the licence thing. She was fine with it, like he'd lied to Lamb about believing she was, no point in making her feel shitty just to make himself feel better. "No, I seriously just ... I was being a dick. I'm sorry. Bye." He turned and hurried away, face burning as giggles followed him.

Food left his mind. What he needed was ...

He knew he didn't give off blatantly gay vibes, hiding it had been a necessity at one point in his life and he'd forced that so long it was just him now. And, as far as he could tell, that same masking was doing a great job at hiding his Bottom status too.

The dorm common area was thankfully empty when he stormed through on his way to his room. He knew exactly where the V for Switch pin Marshall had given him was. And maybe someday someone would explain why the fuck it was a V. He'd be able to work out why a W, but V? Bizarre.

Attaching that to one of the folded over flaps near the neck and just above the buttons of his blazer made him feel a bit better. Only a tiny bit. There was still that buzz that always came with his attacks of brattiness. The one that wouldn't go away until he'd lashed out and experienced a good, hard dose of Bratford justice.

He pulled off his blazer, stuffing it into the back bottom corner of his wardrobe. Then he drew out the thing he'd stashed there. A t-shirt, soft and designed in the Bottom style.

Can't be tamed.

Henry hadn't worn it since his disastrous attempt at fishing. The day he'd broken up with Marshall and discovered that a belt was his right level of punishment.

He pulled his current shirt over his head and went to toss it on the back of the chair for wearable again. What stopped him was what was on his desk.

Two boxes, piled on top of each other and a suspiciously card shaped envelope. Irritated, Henry ripped open the envelope first. An obnoxiously cheery card with a neon number 20 on the front.

Joshua. He'd put money on it. That little brat knew enough not to make it public like Flick would, Marshall would've just waited in person and Lamb would never have picked a card without a sex joke.

He was wrong. There was a lot of text inside, but he skipped down to the signature and frowned at the Flick he found scrawled there.

Happy birthday, kid, the main text read. I thought you would want as little fuss as possible, so I haven't told the others. Be a good boy and you might even get away without a birthday spanking. Congratulations on passing your basic too. I never doubted that you'd find a way. It was never a lack of knowledge or ability, just a perfectly understandable fear that you were being unfair. I had exactly the same issue my first year, though I did have Dare to bully me into a pass after a few tries. My point is; I'm so proud of you. This isn't easy and you get up every day and try anyway. I hope one day that we can be at the point where you ask me for help, but until then, I'm here to listen and care. Even when you'd rather I weren't. Huge hugs, Flick.

Henry scrubbed his eyes against his sleeve and tossed the offending card into his desk drawer, shoving it right to the back where he wouldn't have to see it unless he went looking. Which he wouldn't.

The top box he could tell without opening was a six of the cupcakes from that bakery that Flick sometimes visited and had some awful lifestyle pun name that Henry refused to acknowledge. He scowled at it and didn't open it. In his current mood discovering that Flick had correctly identified his preferences was going to make him do something reckless and he actually wanted to enjoy those later.

Instead he carefully slid the flatter box out from under the cupcakes and opened that.

Yeah. That was what he'd expected. A custom-made paddle.

Henry was enough trouble that he needed his very own implement to be sent to fetch. He couldn't even deny the truth of that, but ...

Marching out there with it, seeing if Flick was in his study and calling him a fucking psycho for thinking it was an appropriate gift would be a quick and easy way to get a demonstration of its effectiveness. No need to embarrass himself baiting random Tops in public.

He picked it up by the handle and almost dropped it against immediately. No frigging way.

Henry adjusted his grip, holding it properly.

The paddle fit against his palm like that was what it had been made to do. An implement for him to use, rather than have used on him.

Right on the end of the handle, his initials had been carved into the wood. HK. It was harder to believe that Flick would put all that effort into something he couldn't use to keep Henry in line, but that was what it was. Flick's hands were huge. Henry had felt them on his arse enough to know that. And he'd snuck into Flick's office and messed with his implements once or twice. The grips on those were a hell of a lot wider.

Henry placed it back in its box, more carefully than he'd taken it out. Still a kind of horrific gift, but not an insult as he'd assumed.

Which meant he couldn't use it to get an easy fix for his attitude.

With a sigh of resignation, Henry picked up his brat shirt. The hard way then.

Outside the library was a good spot for picking up Tops. It was an open area, with low walls and picnic tables, plus the private rooms and exhibition gallery just upstairs. Middle of the day, no rain for a change, and it was crowded with students on their lunch breaks.

It was so similar to how it had been last time. Henry even spotted that guy with the hacky sack testing his luck again. No Frye to snap at the bait though.

He looked around for anyone else he knew. Last thing he wanted was a second intervention in the style of Burns. Henry could handle himself.

Unfortunately, he did recognise someone. Short, but messy sandy hair. Broad shoulders. Burgundy football shirt under his equally burgundy blazer.

Hayden Holt.

Last time Henry had seen him, he'd been escorting him, Lamb and Marshall home like a proper gentleman after that card game. And after fucking Henry without mercy. He was a big part of the reason Henry had been too sore to attend his test the next day.

Technically, Holt owed him one for causing that humiliating doctor's visit. And Henry would like that favour to come in the form of a rerun.

Quirt's advice had been to pace himself. Work his way up. And Holt on his own was a few steps back from what had qualified as 'reckless bottoming'.

Henry headed over to Holt's picnic bench and sat down opposite him. He grabbed the apple out of Holt's lunchbox and twirled it by the stem. "Hey."

Holt gave him a knowing smirk. "Henry Bunny."

So much for acting cool. Henry's hand slipped and he only just caught the apple before it fell. He felt his face heat up. "That's not my surname."

"Maybe it should be. It suits you." Holt took a sip from his water bottle before adding, "You do shag like one."

Henry was sure he was blushing as red as the apple he'd nicked. He lifted the fruit to his lips and took a bite, meeting Holt's eyes as he did so. The heat he saw there made his stomach clench.

Holt looked down, pointedly reading Henry's shirt. "Someone's feeling bratty today, hm? Yeah, I'm down for a one off. What's the game?"

He chewed the bite of apple slowly, trying to work out an answer. "I haven't eaten yet today," Henry said after a long moment. "I'm going to be in trouble with my dorm prefect if I skip lunch too. Being in trouble with you is more fun."

"Classic Make Me," Holt nodded. "You can have the apple. Let's see your red list."

It took a moment to bring it up on his phone, then Henry passed it across. He knew it wasn't complete, just the things that he'd heard about that made him immediately think ew.

Holt read it seriously, obviously taking the time to memorise each point. Then he passed the phone back to Henry. "Your dorm, my dorm or a public setting?"

Henry shrugged. "My dorm isn't very private. Lamb hears us going at it and he'll think that's an invite to join in. Public setting limits what you can do to me, unless you want to take this to the gallery."

"My dorm it is." Holt put the other half of his sandwich back into his lunch box and stood up. "With me, boy."

It felt as though everyone was watching with knowing expressions as Henry trailed after Holt. Brats being led to some sort of doom were a very common sight and they had the blazer and lack of one to let everyone know which way around it was.

Some of the buzzing under Henry's skin settled at the knowledge he was in the hands of a Top. Even one he didn't know very well.

Like, what was the worst case scenario? Holt had only wanted his red list so he could then do those specific things to Henry? Nah, if the Bratford system had caught Henry nudging the boundaries of the licence shit, a Top who made a habit of going that far wouldn't have gone uncaught for three years.

And as long as Holt respected the traffic lights system and that red list, there wasn't any being taken advantage of that Henry wasn't up for. Holt could call the whole fucking football team over to have a turn and Henry was pretty sure he'd take them with nothing but relief that he didn't have to stay in control when everything felt like it was splintering.

He ate the apple on the way.

Holt paused outside a door in the three person dorm building. "You should probably text your safety," he suggested. "Who you're with, building and dorm number, expected time of next check-in."

That shit again. "Don't have a safety," Henry told him. "I'm a fucking adult."

"Yeah? Then you're not coming in," Holt told him, crossing his arms. "I don't play with brats who don't take their safety seriously."

Henry laughed, hollowly. "You won't play with me, because I won't act like you might be a fucking serial killer? I trust you. Wouldn't have come here if I didn't."

Holt took a step towards him. "It's a single text. To someone else you trust. I very much want to get you in private, strip you naked and play a game where we both get what we want, but this stubbornness is just going to end with me ratting you out to Marshall and we can see what he has to say about it."

The apple core had been yeeted into the bushes just outside the dorm block, so Henry wiped his hand on his jeans and grabbed his phone. Choosing who to text wasn't easy. Flick would panic. Marshall might be upset that Henry hadn't gone to him. Birch didn't need any encouragement to be a bastard of an authority figure. Tricia would want to know why he wasn't studying instead.

Lamb won the least shitty opinion award. Henry wasn't his safety, but, aside from that one night, he kept someone updated on his whereabouts and who he was going home with. And he wouldn't judge.

A TATL location ping with the dorm floor and number attached, then Henry jabbed open the message function. A few automatic suggestions for what he might want to say popped up. Wait in the corner until I get there. Last chance to call me back. I've been naughty.

Henry rolled his eyes at them all and wrote his own message. With Holt. Getting railed. He made me send this just in case he's a serial killer. Don't think a serial killer would do that but might be a double bluff. If I die kill him in revenge.

Holt laughed, craning to read the screen upside down. "Yeah, that works. But I wouldn't be so confident about the railing. You'll only get that if you're a very good boy and eat all your lunch."

That sounded kind of filthy, the way Hold said it. Henry's eyes drifted pointedly downwards. "Gonna put me on my knees and make me eat up?"

"If that's how you'd like it." Holt tapped the door code in without hiding it at all.

Henry smirked. "Now, if I was a serial killer, I could get into your dorm. You got a safety?"

Holt held the door open for him. "Good call, fuzzy tail." He followed Henry inside, pulling out his phone to send a text of his own.

The dorm was laid out the same as Tricia or Marshall's. Two bedrooms and a bathroom down the hall on the right. One bedroom, the kitchen and living room on the left.

They headed to the kitchen, Holt shaking his head and laughing again at the response his text got. Henry's phone chimed in his pocket, but he ignored it. Whatever Lamb had to say could wait. It would either be an encouragement to have fun or a real reason not to trust Holt. Either would just make it harder for Henry to let go.

"You got any allergies or stuff you'd want to veto eating?" Holt asked, opening the fridge.

Henry shrugged. Fussy was for people with parents who cared about there always being a meal on the table every evening. There hadn't been a shortage of food, exactly. Just a bit random. What groceries ended up in his childhood kitchen had been whatever was on sale with very little thought given to how or when they'd be consumed.

"Peanut butter sandwich with some cut up carrots and cucumbers on the side?" Holt opened the fridge salad drawer. "You'd be doing us a favour actually, we never get through a full loaf and the veg needs using up."

Yeah, right. He was just trying to be polite. "You don't have to feed me," Henry said. "I thought ..."

Holt held up his hand. Even more effective than a gag. "I'm a laid-back Top. I only play casual." Despite his words there was enough steel in his tone to make Henry cringe. "I don't make serious rules, but I will enforce those set by other people. Your dorm prefect says two meals. You asked me to help. You can either go grab the kneeler from the back of the door and let me do that, resist and get yourself a sore bottom before you obey or you can safeword out. Colour?"

Henry turned, stomped to the door and snatched the kneeling pad off the hook on the back. "Green," he snapped, holding in awkwardly.

"Pad on the floor. Knees on the pad." Holt stared him down.

He tossed it down and followed carelessly. His knees sunk into the soft foam and he was almost annoyed that it hadn't hurt. "That was just an excuse for you to punish me before you fuck me." Henry lifted his chin, glaring up at Holt.

"Were you lying?" Holt asked, he leaned against the counter, looking at Henry like he had just done something sexy instead of sulkily knelt in his fucking kitchen.

"No," Henry snapped.

"Then you will be a good little boy and stop arguing. One more complaint ..." Holt opened a drawer and took a wooden spoon out, placing it on the counter with an ominous click. "Now. Peanut butter and nibbly veg. Colour?"

Henry frowned. "Uh, brown, orange and green, I guess."

Holt snorted in amusement. "Colour as in traffic lights. Is eating peanut butter a good to go, a needs discussion or a full stop?"

"You can't use the traffic lights for ... for sandwich fillings!"

"Why not?" Holt picked up the wooden spoon. "That sounded a lot like a complaint to me."

Henry considered backtracking. For like half a second. Then he doubled down. "Yeah. I am complaining. About your disrespect for the safeword system."

"Pull your trousers down," Holt ordered. "And answer the question."

"I'm fucking fine with peanut butter," Henry snarled, stomach leaden as he undid his fly. "And the other stuff."

"Now who's showing disrespect?" Holt watched him with that same appreciation as Henry lifted his arse off his heels to drag his trousers down as far as he could without fully breaking position. "Pants too. Which means your next penalty will be a good whack on that pert bottom. Then two and so on." He smirked. "I believe in escalating consequences. At this rate you're going to be too sore to really enjoy it when I get inside you."

Henry's brain stuttered as Holt put the spoon down and opened the bread bin. Somehow he'd assumed this was an either or situation. Either he'd get this weird domestic scene or he'd get fucked. Both ...

The sound of a drawer opening, then Holt tutting. "Henry? I told you to take your pants off. That's another penalty, so ..." He patted a stool next to him. "Up. Bare bottom. Bend over this. You could have stayed nice and comfortable down there if you were good."

"You broke my brain by making me think of sex," Henry accused as he stood up. He let his underwear fall and bent over as instructed, gripping the bar between the stool's legs. "Sure you don't want to skip to that part?"

"Tempting," Holt admitted. "But I want you sore first and this is a good way for you to earn it naturally."

While Henry was trying to understand that statement, the wooden spoon arrived right in the middle of his right cheek. He gasped and his hands flexed on the bar supporting him.

"I hope you don't have an afternoon class," Holt said, leaving the spoon lying on Henry's back like he was a table. "Cracking you open to get all the soft gooey parts inside seems like it's going to be a marathon."

"Or you could take off your belt and whip them out really quick," Henry challenged. Without breaking position properly, he arched his back and twisted until the spoon clattered onto the floor.

Holt put down the knife he'd been using to cut up cucumber and picked the spoon up off the tiles. "No, see, I love this part." The spoon stung down twice to the same spot. "The bit where you're just naughty enough to keep getting little penalties and I have you looking so pretty, all laid out, while I slowly paint you red. You make a cheeky comment, I give you a penalty. You break position, I tie you down. You keep trying to get me to skip my favourite part because you feel impatient and I'll fit you with a cockring and vibrator."

Something tight and painful uncoiled in Henry's chest as he considered that and the wooden spoon was placed on his back again. It was a very different attitude to Marshall and Lamb. They were both always rushing to the bit where everyone got off.

But Henry was starting to think he liked this. The long pauses really let the milder pain sink in. The punishments were directly tied to his actions, he had full control over if and when they happened. The position was humiliating, but the fact Holt wanted to keep him like that made him feel like an art object. Worth looking at. Desirable. Wanted.

There was no sound, but the knife cutting vegetables for a while. That and a ticking clock. Henry felt like the seconds stretched longer the more aware of them he was.

He could be good. Wait patiently until Holt told him he could get up. That goal had seemed so impossible under Marshall, but here it felt too easy.

Henry straightened his arms, pulling against the bar his fingers were wrapped around and trying to imagine how it would feel to be actually bound. Marshall had kept teasing him about it, but made it clear that he wouldn't try it until Henry asked. To avoid pressuring him. Henry wanted to be pressured. When it came to this stuff, saying what he wanted, there was still that fear of judgement. Rationally, he knew that, even if they were somehow shocked or disgusted by his relatively tame kinks, they were too into that no shame bullshit to show it.

It still wasn't something Henry could say to either of them. They'd make it a whole Thing. Henry finally admitting he was a Bottom who wanted to bottom. Their celebration was actually worse than any shame they could throw at him. Supposed to be encouraging, but it had the opposite effect.

Couldn't tell them that either.

Holt had no idea what a big step it would be for Henry to ask. And he wouldn't have threatened it if it was something he'd be disgusted by.

"You can tie me up," Henry said, breaking the silence with what he'd intended to be a sharp challenge. It sounded more like begging.

"Oh? Can I?" Holt opened the peanut butter jar. "Yes, I do think I'm capable of putting you in bondage ... But why would I?"

Because Henry was asking?

Except he kind of hadn't. He'd given permission, but that wasn't the same thing.

Holt glanced over at him. "I told you how to get yourself tied up. Specific disobedience or ask very nicely."

Break position.

With a deep breath, Henry stood up. The wooden spoon fell again, catching the side of his leg before making that same clatter on the tiled floor.

"Naughty," Holt said, opening a drawer and producing a pair of cuffs. Not quite handcuffs, the chain between them was too forgivingly long and instead of metal the bits that went around the wrists were soft leather. "Back down. And you're getting a separate penalty for dropping the spoon."

Henry tilted his chin up. He was around the same height as Holt, so neither could use that to intimidate, but a defiant look was a defiant look. "I don't think I will."

"You're wrong. Two more penalties add up to seven swats, little bunny. Want to make it a full dozen?"

Yeah, Henry did actually. He shrugged.

"You have until I reach four to get your butt back where it belongs," Holt told him. "You've got the spoon penalty. That's one so I'm starting to count at two."

Henry hadn't gone far. Getting back into position would just involve bending over again. He didn't.

Holt picked the spoon off the ground. "Three."

He had to know no brat would take that as anything but a challenge.

"Four."

There was only a second of silence before Henry dived back over the stool, wriggling to get comfortable and taunt Holt.

"Fuck," Holt whispered. "That was ..." He crouched in front of Henry to fit the cuffs around his wrists, looping the chain under the bar between the stool legs. "Do you even know how hot you just looked? Brushing off my counting like it was nothing and only obeying when it was too late. So bratty! You're lucky you're only getting those four penalties. Eighteen swats."

Eighteen with the spoon didn't feel lucky. It felt like Henry's arse was under attack by a very dedicated woodpecker. Or, like, that would probably be smaller and sharper, but he couldn't think of a better simile while he was being smacked.

By halfway, it felt like every part of Henry's bottom had been hit at least once. By the end, he was certain of it. Earning that much in one block left him feeling tender and worried about what the next set of seven would feel like. He had no doubt that he'd earn it. Holt hadn't even finished preparing the food.

Holt rested the spoon on Henry's back yet again. "This comes off one more time and I won't be keeping it here anymore. That silicone handle will be going up your arse while I upgrade your penalty swats to a spatula. Understood?"

Henry tested the cuffs, another tight knot in his chest releasing as they held him. "Green, um, master?"

"No need for any epithet," Holt assured him, moving around to crouch in front of him again. "You want to call me something?"

"Not sir," Henry said.

"If you don't mind either way, I'm happy without."

"I said not sir. Not not sure," Henry snapped.

"Oh! Right, sorry." Holt brushed Henry's hair out of his eyes, then quickly kissed his forehead. "You're perfect without using any, okay? You're so good at being naughty for me. You just keep talking to me in that disrespectful tone with no epithets and giving me excuses to make your bottom sorer and we'll get on wonderfully."

Henry swallowed another yes, master and scowled. "Go fuck yourself with that silicone handle."

Holt grinned. "Tut tut. That's seven more. Then I'll let you up and you can kneel while I hand feed you." He patted the side of Henry's face. "And no biting. Biting is automatically two penalties. And those numbers are only getting bigger."

The ache in his arse had settled into something too sweet to bear. High pain tolerance wasn't the whole truth. It never had been, Henry just hadn't been ready to acknowledge it. And his previous punishments had marched on fast enough that he couldn't sink into the sensation.

Why, if he could only get one, couldn't it have been sadism? Sadism was useful, it made for better Tamers. The opposite just ruined Brats. Made them harder to control.

Inspired them to do stupid shit.

Henry smiled softly at Holt, turned his head and bit the hand that was about to feed him.

Chapter Text

They found Henry curled up in a blanket and Hayden Holt's lap. He had red-rimmed eyes, a carton of chocolate milk and the most relaxed posture Lamb had ever seen him with.

Holt gave them a grin as they entered, unconcerned with being caught by Henry's boyfriends. That might not be wise. Yeah, Lamb had an agreement to stay casual with Marshall, but Henry hadn't actually negotiated an open relationship. Then again, they hadn't yet fully renegotiated any kind of relationship. Arguably they were still split up.

Henry didn't look up, pretending to be absorbed in the show they were watching. Lamb recognised it. Riggerton. A relatively new lifestyle period drama that was popular for its rehashing of modern rom-com clichés, inaccurate but pretty aesthetic and attractive cast. On screen a man had just been fished out of a lake and was being instructed to bend over, damp trousers obscenely tight over his buttocks as he awaited punishment for the fist fight that had landed him there.

A quality show that Lamb had watched for the plot.

Henry winced at the crack of a switch against the plot's backside and turned his head to hide against Holt's chest like he was watching a horror movie.

Holt's hand stroked Henry's back a couple of times, then reached for the bottom of the blanket. "Colour on letting Lamb and Marshall see your bottom?" he asked softly.

Turning his head just enough that everyone could see his eye roll, Henry mumbled, "Green. Duh. Always."

"Good little boy," Holt said, drawing the blanket up far enough to reveal a very pink bum angled so it wouldn't have to be sat on. And so it was available for smacking. Which Holt immediately did.

Marshall's smile was a little too sharp. "What did you do to earn this, bunny? Have you been a rude guest?"

Holt's hand smacked down twice, once on each pink buttock. "Well, he was being a little brat earlier, but a session with the spoon settled him for lunch. This ..." He clapped Henry's bottom again, getting a very sulky whine. "... is because we're playing a game. After the first episode he picked a character and whenever they get spanked, he gets a few swats too. He chose very poorly."

Henry made an offended noise. "How was I supposed to know the Top who's also the head of the family was going to get his arse in trouble every bloody episode?"

Lamb leaned over and gave Henry a swat of his own. "Because you've been around when I was watching. So, either you weren't paying attention, which is rude, or you knew what you'd get."

With a little grumble, Henry hid against Holt's chest again.

Marshall moved closer. "Interesting strategy, bunny. Get yourself too sore to take your birthday spanking." He reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out a little paddle. "Except we both know your limits. This just means you'll be getting it on top."

Holt's eyes lit up. "Oh? Is playing with me a birthday gift for yourself, Henry Bunny?"

"Yeah, I guess." Henry gave them a melodramatic put-upon sigh. "I just wanted something nice for me."

Lamb winced. That was as good as an accusation that himself and Marshall prioritised their own pleasure when they were with Henry. Which was true. Henry didn't share what he wanted, so he didn't get it.

"Hayden?" Marshall asked. "Would you hold Henry down over your lap, please?"

"With pleasure." Holt took the chocolate milk carton from Henry and put it aside before casually hauling him into position. The blanket stayed tangled around Henry's torso with his bare arse peeking out. Holt lifted one foot onto the pouffe, the added height pushing that arse up for a very nice presentation.

Henry squirmed. "Please, sir? I learned my lesson."

Marshall smacked the paddle against his own palm, making everyone else wince. "And what lesson is that, love?"

"Um ... Don't be a brat?"

Holt stroked along Henry's spine. "Brats are very popular around here. Especially ones who forget that lesson as soon as they stop feeling their last punishment. Now, can you stay still for your spanking or do I need to pin you down?"

"Pin him," Marshall answered for him. "Like I told you to first time."

A brief hesitation as Holt's inner Brat argued, then he twisted Henry's arm up behind his back and applied pressure. "He's been such a lovely little thing," Holt said.

Marshall sat down next to them, turning to admire and run his hand over Henry's arse. "I'm impressed how little attitude he's giving us. Was this exactly what you needed to satisfy your bratty side, Henry Bunny?"

Henry nodded. "Don't feel so ... so sharp, sir. Easier to be good." He squirmed a bit. "Could do with other stuff getting satisfied though."

Lamb took a seat on the pouffe, wanting to be close, but not willing to go onto his knees without a direct order or something to put in his mouth once he was there. "Don't tell me you didn't let him get off, Holt?"

"Oh, no, he did." Holt upped the pressure, pushing Henry's torso down and making his bottom rise a little further. "He's just ready to go again."

Smack!

Marshall started the birthday spanking hard, definitely more real punishment level than playful. And on a sore arse. "What a pity he's only getting what he asks for today. It's his day after all, so he chooses the games."

The second blistering swat landed and Henry's back arched like an offended cat. "Didn't ask for a spanking, sir!"

"Didn't you?" Lamb leaned over and cupped his hand around the back of Henry's neck. "You didn't go looking for another Top to play with even though you had a birthday spanking waiting at home? We were planning a light ten from each and your choice of implement for the one to grow on."

The paddle kept rising and falling throughout Lamb's mild scolding, each hard enough to make Henry struggle against Holt's grip.

"But now you're getting this as a proper punishment. Just like you asked for with your behaviour," Marshall said, impressing his point with yet more of the paddle. Lamb had lost count, but presumably Marshall would stick to the traditional amount to match the birthday boy's age. Though twenty was still very mean.

"I didn't know!" Henry wailed as the paddle moved down to kiss his sit spots.

Marshall paused, paddle raised for the next stroke. "Didn't know what, love?"

Henry answered very quietly. "That you were waiting, sir. That I wasn't allowed other Tops."

"Oh! No, bunny." Marshall's breath caught and he laid his free hand gently at the base of Henry's spine. "That's not what you're being punished for. I've got no problem with you playing outside our trio, but you don't leave us with just one safety text and fail to follow up. You don't get to ignore my messages. I wanted to surprise you after my last class of the day, but you weren't in or answering and it wasn't until Lamb got out of class an hour later that I could narrow down your location beyond this one dorm block. I was this close to knocking on every door until I found you."

Holt winced. "That was kind of on me. I forgot to remind —"

"Hayden." Marshall's voice was as sharp as any of the smacks he'd dished out. "Don't make excuses for him. Unless you took his phone from him and refused to let him have it back, Henry broke a rule. Didn't you, bunny?"

Henry tried to squirm forward off Holt's lap, but all three of them held him in place. He slumped. "Yes, sir. I didn't want ..."

Lamb stroked his neck with a gentle thumb. "You didn't want to, but you worried us, bunny."

"No." Henry couldn't shake his head with how Lamb was holding him, but he tried. "I didn't want to deal with my birthday. It doesn't mean anything. It shouldn't mean anything. And you were going to — to make a big deal out of it and tell everyone and probably spank me for having it and ... I just couldn't."

Baffled, Lamb looked to Marshall for an explanation. Birthdays were the best. People fussing over him and presents and a nice playful spanking ... what wasn't to love? He'd wanted to throw a party, a proper open invite one that got them all in huge amounts of trouble with whoever ran the dorm they threw it in, but Marshall had talked him down to a fun night in as a trio. A chance to re-establish their relationship.

And instead of showing up, Henry had run off with Holt. Which was a total Lamb move. Things threatened to become serious and he'd jump into the lap of a Top who only played casually while ghosting whoever was getting too invested. They should have gone with the drunk, messy party with people Henry barely knew. Keep it flirty and playful, rather than push for that commitment.

"If you'd told us that, we'd have respected your feelings, bunny," Marshall assured Henry. "I haven't told anyone except Lamb. That's your information to share if you want, not something I'd assume you want the world to know. You asked me to set up traps and this was just an excuse for one of those. An event where I could introduce something new. And an excuse to spank you, yes."

Henry shivered. "I let Holt tie me up, sir. I ... you were right."

For a moment, Lamb saw the hurt in Marshall's expression. "I was waiting for you to be ready to try that, bunny," he said, careful not to make it scolding.

"I couldn't ask you, sir," Henry said. "What if I didn't like it and let you down? Holt doesn't matter ... Um, I mean, no offence?"

Holt laughed lightly. "Nah. I get what you mean.  I'm safe because if it goes wrong, you can drop me without losing anything. But you want to be perfect for your real Sir."

They'd lost Lamb somewhere around respecting Henry's feelings. Like, yeah, he wanted to do that. Henry's feelings were just incomprehensible. Marshall was great and all, but Holt had literally just proven that Henry could get a better fix elsewhere. Why cling to one person when there were other tastes to be sampled?

If it was easier to communicate with someone Henry wasn't as attached to, keeping it brief and casual had to be the safer option too.

"Okay, bunny, I'm going to finish your spanking now," Marshall warned, bringing the paddle down with much less force immediately afterwards.

It had to be surprise that made Henry's whole body jerk and him whine miserably. Sore as he was, his pain tolerance was worryingly high. Lamb winced at the thought of taking what Birch and Henry considered routine maintenance.

The last six smacks came fast to Henry's sit spots, back and forth in a way that made Lamb very happy he wasn't on the recieving end. He was still in the recovery period from the marathon punishment to catch up on the slips he'd missed and he wanted to keep his bottom safe and happy as long as possible this time. Sex only for a bit.

Marshall swapped the paddle into his off hand. "And one to grow on, love." His palm swept down, aimed for the junction of Henry's legs. It wasn't as hard as the others, but it caught a bit of ball.

Lamb cringed in sympathy.

Henry wailed, bucking on Holt's lap. The struggling only got worse as Marshall pushed his hand further, spreading his legs and playing with what he found there.

"Very interesting, love," Marshall said. "Did you like that? Because this says you did."

Lamb and Henry both gulped. Lamb because he didn't want that experiment repeated on him and Henry because a new vulnerability had been discovered.

Marshall removed his hand and wiped it on his jeans. "Okay, bunny, my lap or Holt's?"

Henry shrugged. "Dunno. Choose for me?"

A look passed between Marshall and Holt. An understanding.

Holt flipped him upright easily and Marshall shifted in close so Henry could sit between them, one sore cheek on each thigh. He squirmed, pouting about the pressure as both Switches hugged him, pulling him down so there was no escaping the sensation.

"Hello, little bunny," Marshall said, kissing the side of Henry's neck. "Ready to be good for us?"

Holt tucked the blanket over Henry's bare legs. "He's been a very good boy for me already. I mean, yeah, he bit me, but that was just a little nibble to let me know he wanted his bottom well-roasted."

Lamb eyed Holt suspiciously, he really didn't want a roasting, unless it was a spit. He joined them on the sofa, squeezing in next to Marshall.

Henry settled back down quickly, letting Holt hold his carton of milk for him as he had a few sips. And his squirming stopped being trying to get away and more ... wriggling his weight downwards. A token fight before he could allow himself to feel good. Very Henry.

Marshall pulled a notebook out of his pocket. Spiral bound with a pen tied to it. Usually for lines or tally counts, both his and the ones he inflicted on other people. He handed it to Henry who groaned, expecting a bonus punishment.

"I've got a very important task for you, bunny," Marshall told him. "You're going to write down everything you liked about today's scene with Holt. Every detail and why. Maybe a particular position made you feel safe and held or you enjoyed the pacing or something specific he said or anything. Everything."

"Why?" Henry pouted, opening the notebook and finding a clean page.

"Because I've been selfish, bunny," Marshall said. "I've been taking my own pleasure and assuming you'd tell me if you weren't satisfied. But, this ... you look like you had a really great time. And I want to know what a really great time means to you. Not what you think I want."

Henry shifted in a way that Lamb knew had to be making the soreness worse. "I don't know ..."

Holt slipped his free hand under the blanket, stroking Henry's thigh. "How about starting with enforced self-care and hand feeding?" He lifted the chocolate milk to offer the straw again. Henry automatically took an obedient sip. "You blissed right out. Thought you might have gone under until you threw a little tantrum about having to get off your knees."

Henry choked on his mouthful of chocolate milk. "That's not true! I just ..."

"Came up to me and asked for help following a self-care rule? Ate all your lunch from my fingers without any complaint? Whined and pouted and earned yourself another penalty when I told you it was done?" Holt smiled. "There's no reason to be embarrassed about it. Brat doesn't mean you have to fight all the time. You liked being looked after. Lie to me so blatantly again and I'll take you up on that earlier belt suggestion."

Lamb could believe it. Henry always complained a little too loudly about Flick's fussing. More of a 'give me more attention' than a 'leave me alone'.

Henry doodled a dick in the notebook, then added extra bits each side of the balls to turn it into a very crude middle finger.

Marshall peered over his shoulder. "There's a lot of ways I could interpret that, bunny. So, what kink does that represent? Getting fucked, getting fingered or getting verbally humiliated? Or something I didn't already know you liked?"

"It's just how I feel about this homework," Henry snapped. "Why do you ask Holt, since he apparently knows what I like better than I do?"

Holt swatted his thigh under the blanket, just as Marshall did the same to his opposite.

"Twenty five lines on a page," Marshall said. Made it easy to know when a multiple of fifty lines had been completed. "When there's a unique item on each line of that page, you can choose how me and Lamb get you off."

Lamb perked up in interest. "Henry," he whined, stretching out the vowel sounds. "Marshall says since —" He hesitated and switched what he was about to say. "— since I didn't forward your message to him, my punishment is that I can't get off until you do." Marshall had actually said something about it being rude to go first on Henry's birthday, but Lamb was being considerate. He might not fully understand, but Henry had asked for it not to be a big deal.

There were still presents from Lamb and Marshall waiting in Henry's room, but, well, everyone loved presents. Maybe Lamb should start giving him random gifts, so it wouldn't seem like it was just because birthday.

Henry rolled his eyes at Lamb's pleading expression, but he put pen to paper and started writing. Fucking might be the start of some new defiance or a genuine list item, but either way it was a step in the right direction. He noticed Lamb craning to read and tilted the notebook away.

Like Marshall wouldn't share that information as soon as it was given to him. Lamb needed to know too.

He leaned back, sneaking an arm around Marshall's shoulders, and returned his attention to the show that had been running in the background the whole conversation.

That very engaging plot was having a conversation with his mother about his uncertainty about his dynamic. As the eldest child, of course, he was expected, practically required, to be a Top, and that was not an inaccurate description of his proclivities. He, just, merely, wondered if there could perhaps be more. Something else.

An explanation for the Feelings he was having towards the toppy elder sister of his betrothed. Though he didn't say that part to his mother yet. It was far too early in the season for any sort of resolution.

Lamb was pretty sure Switches had existed in the period, so the confusion felt kind of manufactured, but so had the season one mysteries of sex thing. Manufactured drama still led to ...

He leaned over Marshall and Henry. "Hey, Holt? Still playing the smacked when the character is game?"

Holt glanced at the screen where the plot was storming off into the gardens where he would encounter the third Riggerton brother in a bratty mood and respond in kind rather than putting him over his knee. Leading to both brothers being taken to task by their theoretically submissive mother.

"Oh, definitely," Holt said, flexing his hand in anticipation.

Henry looked up suspiciously and winced as he obviously recognised the scene. So much for pretending he hadn't known when he'd picked.

"Can I join?" Lamb asked. He nodded at the screen. "He seems like a sensible young gentleman who definitely won't get very many smacks."

Marshall snorted. He hadn't watched the show before, but that kid had an incredible case of resting brat face, even before he opened his mouth.

Holt grinned across at Lamb. "Pants off and get where I can reach you and sure. Marshall, want to bet your arse too?"

"Hm ..." Marshall stroked Henry's hair to get his attention. "Would you be okay with that, bunny? Me getting smacked as part of a silly game?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Why wouldn't I? Pick someone who gets it a lot. Enjoy the pain."

"Thank you, love." Marshall kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Lamb, how about you pick for me? These two are already claimed and I don't know who else is in it."

While Lamb was trying to remember exactly who got spanked and when, Holt shifted Henry over onto only his lap. "If you're playing, lose the pants, Marsh." He considered the set up as Lamb shimmied out of his clothes. "I could have the three of you kneeling in a row, bent over the coffee table. That would definitely make me forget to watch the TV though."

Henry twisted sideways and put his legs over Marshall's lap. He didn't say anything, just hunched more over the notebook and pretended to be intently writing.

On screen the brothers' screaming match was interrupted by their mother descending to swat them both.

Lamb kicked off his shoes so he could toss his trousers and briefs over the arm of the sofa and go collect his penalty from Holt. His resolution to not to get spanked had lasted only until he found a cute new sadist to play with. Whoops.

Marshall took hold of Henry's ankles. "One condition on me playing, Hayden."

Holt nodded, apparently reading Marshal's mind. "Sure. Only fair. Lamb, would you pick for me too? So Marshall knows I didn't just pick someone I know is safe."

Henry's head jerked up in surprise. "You —?"

Before he could ask, Marshall pulled his legs up sharply, tipping him onto his back. He gave Henry rather more swats than had been administered on screen. "Benefit of playing spanking games with Switches," Marshall said, letting Henry go. "It's more fun when everyone's in danger."

Holt let Henry curl up in his arms, pouting about how mean Marshall was. Like Holt wasn't most of the reason for Henry's soreness. Lamb squeezed onto the sofa and stole Henry, pulling him across to his own lap.

Henry gasped and clung to the notebook. "If you bastards want me to write, quit throwing me around."

"Bunny, oh, bunny," Lamb said, shaking his head sadly. "There are two Tops about to take their pants off. You should be doing anything to make sure that happens, not getting in the way."

"Lamby, oh, Lamby, I don't give a fuck," Henry lied. "And they're Switches."

Holt stood up, hands busy on his fly. "Maybe you'd be more interested in dishing out some orders, Henry?" he suggested. "You can pick who gives the penalties. Otherwise we'll all be fighting to swat first."

Henry hesitated, squirming on Lamb's lap. That blanket was all that was keeping them from getting very intimate and Holt's housemates probably wouldn't appreciate that on their sofa, so Lamb heroically pretended he wasn't into it.

"That seems sensible," Marshall agreed, his clothes joining Lamb's on the arm of the sofa. He waited for Holt to sit back down, then perched on his knee.

Holt grinned and hauled him closer by his hips. "Looking for me to show you what I did to your boy, Marsh?"

Marshall sniffed haughtily. "Looking for you to prove you know where the goal is. Since you can't find it on the pitch."

"Your bunny isn't the only one with a bratty side today," Holt commented, flipping Marshall like he had a lot of practice moving brats from sitting on him to bent over his knee. "Permission to give him a warm-up, Henry?"

Henry opened the notebook again, flipping to the page that Lamb could now see was already half full of things he'd liked. "Colour, Marshall?" he asked, casually dominant in a way that made Lamb squirm.

"Green," Marshall said, cheerfully. "As green as the grass of the pitch Holt was sent off every single game last year."

"Keep mouthing off, find out if I remember you keep a gag in your blazer," Henry said, eyes on the notebook and ears slowly turning pink with embarrassment as he tried out his Top persona. "And, yes, Holt. Permission granted."

Holt had to know Marshall was too much of a masochist for it to be effective, but he struck anyway. Lamb watched them intently, admiring Holt's technique and how Marshall took it with only soft gasps.

Henry slowly looked up from the notebook, a slight smile forming. Marshall met his eyes and grinned. Lamb leaned in and nipped playfully at Henry's ear. If this didn't end with all four of them getting each other off in whatever configuration, Lamb would pout about it for days.

"What do you like about this, bunny?" Lamb promoted, tapping the notebook. He hadn't forgotten Marshall's ruling.

Embarrassed at someone noticing his enjoyment, Henry ducked his head and scribbled a new item on the list.

Control.

A little vague, but that just meant they could explore a lot of specifics under that umbrella.

Lamb rewarded Henry with a kiss, turning his head for him, then yielding once their lips met. He tasted of chocolate milk, peanut butter and dominance.

Henry growled in the back of his throat when Lamb drew away. A ridiculous sound, but it made him shiver.

"Ru. Don't start what you're not allowed to finish," Henry warned. "If you can't resist the slightest temptation to push against that rule ..." He collected the blanket around him and stood up. "On your knees." Henry pointed at a spot on the floor next to him.

He wasn't joking. Lamb considered having a bit of a brat about it, but Henry didn't like spanking. Giving, at least. Lamb had his suspicions about receiving.

Control.

Brat side dealt with, Henry could take it. And Lamb was all about offering.

Lamb took position at his master's feet and only slightly regretted not giving him a fight. That could come later. When Henry was ready. Lamb would be there when he was. He was invested.

Shit. Things were getting a bit ...

Serious.

Chapter Text

The text was worrying. An order to report to the dorm after the last class of the day. Flick had sent it to the group chat, all five of them, no explanation.

Joshua's best guess was that someone, likely Henry, had done something that required an audience to his punishment. He couldn't think of anything he'd done himself.

It was difficult to focus on his work in the last hour. Professor Handigan ran supervised 'homework' sessions for the art students to draw without the distractions of a home computer. And with the watchful eyes of some TAs and Applied Discipline students grabbing at extra credit.

Darius Tafani, firmly in the latter category, leaned on the back of Joshua's chair. "Now, I don't pretend to know anything about art, little Picasso, but isn't there generally more of it after you work on it for half an hour?"

Joshua jumped at his first word, knowing guilt was written all over his face. "It's not happening," he mumbled.

"I can see that, button," Dare spun Joshua's office chair around to face him. "What do you need to make it start happening?"

The help that he could realistically provide was probably physical motivation. A few of the other students had already gotten some of their own. Bare bottoms wriggled on punishment mats or raised in the air over bending desks or were in the process of being smacked in various positions.

On Joshua's screen his shading of shadows homework taunted him. He'd drawn a bondage harness onto the provided figure, but that was the easy part. Working out what shadows that harness would create was tricky enough when his brain was fully focused.

He shrugged helplessly. Honesty was the only way he could see out of a no fun spanking. "Flick sent us a weird message, sir. I keep worrying I did something bad without realising and ..."

Dare's hand went to the back of Joshua's neck, a grounding scruff. "You definitely didn't, button." His use of the affectionate nickname helped soothe the worry as much as the hold and the reassurance. "That's about me."

Joshua blinked at him. "What did you ...?"

"You remember a few weeks ago, Albert got strapped?" Dare glanced away, the guilt clear in his expression and, for once, reluctant to talk about something. "That was completely my fault. Flick owes me a hell of a punishment. Finally time to pay up."

"That's bullshit!" Joshua said loudly, drawing attention. He lowered his voice before someone decided Dare wasn't handling him properly. "Okay, sir, either you just accused Flick of disciplining Albert unfairly or you're lying about him not being culpable. And we both know Flick would never."

Dare's hand tightened slightly on the back of Joshua's neck like he was considering shaking him. "All Albert did was choose to help me. And, yes, I'll admit Flick was fair." His hand released him suddenly, moving up to pet Joshua's hair. "But you have nothing to worry about, button. You're our very best boy. All you need to do is watch me get what I deserve. And then I'll be properly back to help with whatever you kids need."

Joshua relaxed into the petting. Short hair was so nice when it was stroked. Long enough that someone — Birch — could get his fingers in for a proper pull, but short enough that it looked distinctly masculine. The hairdresser's near campus had known exactly what to suggest when he'd asked for a bratty boy's cut.

"So, now you know you don't have anything to worry about ..." Dare picked up Joshua's tablet pen and put it in his hand. "... How about you try and get a bit more done before the bell goes?"

Nothing to worry about? Joshua pouted as Dare kissed him on the forehead and moved on to a brat who was throwing a ball of paper up and catching it rather than working. He'd seen the marks of Albert's strapping and apparently whatever Dare had done was much worse. And they were going to be expected to just sit there and watch him get whatever worse than that strapping was?

Joshua couldn't do it.

He glanced at the clock, still twenty minutes left of the supervision. No one was paying him attention, Dare had just been hit in the face with the crumpled up piece of paper and was showing the brat who'd thrown it the error of her ways.

The other three supervisors, two TAs and another Applied Discipline student, were busy too. One brat was resisting corner time. Another was having a complete meltdown about a failed drawing. And two brats had started an epic battle of 'I'm not touching you' that was threatening to escalate into poking.

Joshua calmly saving his work and packing up his tablet didn't raise any alarms, until he got up and headed for the door. It wasn't Dare that stopped him, but Miss MacLean, Flick's sort of girlfriend on hiatus.

She was a few inches taller than him and her heels pushed that up to six foot. But unlike Indira, who could radiate a sense of doom for all brats from a foot shorter, Regina MacLean just didn't have the presence to intimidate.

"Can I ask where you're going, please?" she asked with a warm smile on candyfloss pink lips.

"You can," Joshua said and waited for her to actually do so.

It took her a moment to figure out why he wasn't answering, then Regina giggled. "Okay, Joshua. Where are you going?"

"Toilet, ma'am." Joshua gave her a cheeky grin. A double bluff, brats were always presumed to be up to something, but act like he was and tamers would generally assume there wasn't anything beyond the obvious. "And I'm taking my bag and tablet with me because I don't trust these hooligans."

She giggled again. "Sensible. Okay." Regina stepped aside. "Even if there's only a few minutes left, I want you back here afterwards. Just so you can scan your student card out at the right time."

"Yes, ma'am," Joshua lied. His goal was to get as far away as possible in that time. If he wasn't there when Dare reported for punishment, he wouldn't have to watch. And they wouldn't delay it just for him.

He'd happily take a spanking for going missing if it meant he could avoid watching a Top he respected get a serious thrashing.

The corridor was quiet, faintly surreal to be walking while everyone else was in classrooms. He winced at a thwack and cry out from behind one of the doors he passed. Joshua felt like he was being watched, but shrugged it off as paranoia. If anyone was behind him, he'd hear their footsteps and he wasn't going to jump at shadows. He resolutely refused to look around, if anyone was there acting nervous was just plain suspicious.

Darius caught up to him at the end of the corridor, darting between him and the door to freedom. "Nice try, button." He leaned against the door, arms folded. "Turn that bottom around and march it back to either the classroom or the toilet before it gets smacked."

Joshua crossed his arms right back. "Why do we have to watch?"

It took Dare a moment to catch up with the change in topic, then, "Because I need to let you all know how seriously I take anyone exploiting you. I used Albert to cheat on a test and that was incredibly shitty of me. If anyone else had done that, yeah, I'd be bending them over for a long, intimate session with a cane."

"A cane? You're getting ..." Joshua asked, mood shifting. He could handle watching a caning. His boyfriend's favourite porn was heavy caning. And, yeah, it would be more intense in person, not for play, with someone he cared about receiving, but ...

Dare shook his head. "Lexan paddle. I'd use a cane, because I'm not obsessed with paddles."

Oh, that made sense. Joshua had had trouble imagining Flick going as hard as he had on Albert, let alone harder, but Conway, Dare's Disciplinary Mentor, was very easy to imagine in the role of strict Top. And who else did they know who was obsessed with paddles and might reasonably step in?

Joshua blushed and looked at the floor. Conway was unarguably hot. At Ben's party, at Joshua's request, he'd put him over his knee and given him a spanking that made him very certain he wasn't a Top to mess with. And made Joshua very tempted to mess with him to test that theory.

Dare's finger pushed his chin back up. "I'd lie and tell you I've had worse, but I suspect that'll just make you imagine worse. It's going to be rough, to watch as well as take. And you don't have to, button. If you find it too much, you can safe out of watching. But I'd really appreciate it if you tried."

"Why?" Joshua asked in a small voice. He wouldn't want an audience for his worst ever punishment.

"Because it got left too long and the guilt has festered and I really need this to be as bad as possible." Dare closed his eyes for a moment, then bounced back, spinning and shoving the door open. He'd switched like, well, a Switch. Diving into brattiness when a minute ago he'd been all Top. "How about we go wherever you were off to and see how long it takes them to find us?"

Joshua glanced over his shoulder. "You said ... Regina said ..."

"Regina says a lot of things. Mostly parroting what toppier Tops have told her. She'll do it by the book, send us both an official reprimand slip and let our mentors or Tops or whatever deal with it. Which means I'll have a punishment to cash in when I start getting bratty again and you'll have an excuse to bend over for Birch." Dare held the door open. "There's good and there's not even being a brat and you're right on that line, button."

That stung. Joshua didn't try to hide it, just met Dare's eyes with all his feelings on display.

Dare looked away first. He didn't apologise or double down, just waited. Like he expected Joshua to switch and deal with him.

Which gave Joshua an idea. His legs folded under him, carefully lowering down onto his knees. "Sir?"

Something in Dare was hooked, drawn back towards dominance. "Don't ... I'm ..."

Joshua reached up and togged at the hem of Dare's blazer. "I was planning on turning off my phone and going into the city centre, sir," he confessed. "Make you all worry when you couldn't find me. Just to get out of something I could safeword about."

"That ... would have been very naughty," Dare allowed. "But you didn't."

"Because you caught and stopped me here, sir. Intent matters. And I intended to be very naughty."

Dare's hand was in his hair again. Rougher. A leash as he made him crawl to the side of the corridor. Most hallways at Bratford had regular points for discipline along them. A bench there, a set of rails over there, here a ladder with cuffs dangling from the rungs. "Up," he ordered.

Joshua used the rungs to pull himself back onto his feet. Anticipating the next order, he lifted his arms slightly above his head, finding the appropriate rung and taking hold.

"A couple lower," Dare instructed. "Push your bottom out."

He obeyed, shivering as Dare undid his drop seat. The cuffs were next, clipped around his wrists.

Dare pulled his thumb to a little raised spot on them, a point that Joshua could easily reach while bound. "This is the quick release. Give it a press."

Again, Joshua obeyed, pressing down and feeling the cuffs pop open immediately.

"It gets too much, you press that and I'll treat it like a safeword," Dare told him. "So will anyone else."

Anyone else? He probably just meant that in general releasing oneself was equivalent to a safeword. Just in case Joshua thought to brat by taking advantage of the safety features in the future.

He shivered at Dare's hand stroking down his back. "We have around ten minutes before the end of class and this hallway gets filled with students making a break for freedom. I don't think that's long enough for you to get back into a productive mindset, but it's just the right length of time for a little brat to spend in time out considering his behaviour. Which is where I'm going to give you a choice."

Joshua nodded, relaxing when the spine stroking didn't go below his waist.

"What I want to do is hang a sign on your back instructing anyone who walks by to give you a swat with their carry. You wouldn't know what was coming or when or how hard. A little taste of the uncertainty you were going to inflict on the people who care about you."

Public use was what it was generally called, even if the only use was target practice for those Tops and Switches with basic licences. No one who couldn't choose to punish him anyway. But they all knew better than to swat someone in a public time out without an invitation. Joshua still couldn't quite get over seeing Naomi in that position when he'd first met Birch. Lamb had swatted her like it was nothing, no acknowledgement of her besides that. His stomach squirmed at the idea.

Dare kept stroking, working on settling the tension his words had created. "Or I can give you six with my carry and just leave you on display until everyone's walked by and seen your striped bottom." Dare's carry implement, the one he handed over to Tops who wanted to punish him on the spot, was a riding crop. Close enough to a cane that Birch owned a couple, but not close enough that he'd used one on Joshua yet.

Apparently, Birch wasn't confident in using one for fun, just discipline. But that meant Dare's alternative suggestion was just as much an unknown as the first.

Joshua shrugged, the cuffs clinking against the ladder. "I think I'm green on either of those, sir. But I won't know until I've tried."

Dare made an understanding noise. "How about I give you a single stroke with the crop and you can decide with a bit more information?"

That ... honestly made his mind up. Joshua was curious. It could have been a choice between the crop and a hand spanking and he'd have picked the crop just because it was new. If he could try it out and then choose public use, he'd get double the new experiences.

"Green, sir." Joshua took a deep breath and relaxed as he let it out.

Dare stepped back, unhooking his carry from his belt. He tapped a light warning, aiming for the crease between bottom and thigh.

Joshua's fingers tightened on the ladder rung in anticipation. The sound of the crop through the air, then the crack of impact was familiar. As was the pain that followed. On par with a playful stroke with the senior cane. Much, much harder than he liked.

His eyes widened and he swayed forward, trying to tuck his bottom under.

Dare caught him by both hips and tugged him back into position. "Uh uh, button. Whichever you pick, this stays pushed out until your punishment is over. Did that give you enough information to choose?"

"Yes, sir." Joshua bowed his head, testing the cuffs a little and not entirely sure if it was nerves or excitement unsettling his stomach. "I'll take the sign, please."

It wasn't a surprise that Dare just had one ready in his blazer pocket. Joshua had seen him a couple of times wearing it. He wasn't entirely sure if Dare had been ordered to by a Top or if he just chose to on occasion, but the little glazed wood sign that said Spank Me was an accessory that Dare wore like a badge of honour. It even already had a request for carry implements only in smaller writing.

Flick's handwriting. Definitely a custom toy.

Joshua found himself trembling as the sign was hooked onto the back of his shirt collar. He was incredibly vulnerable. Not just felt it, was.

Arse out, cuffed to a wall, with an invitation to punish him on his back. And a crowd of students about to come out of those classrooms and take him up on that offer.

"Don't leave me?" Joshua asked, suddenly terrified that Dare would abandon him.

"Of course I won't, button." Dare took his hand and moved Joshua's thumb back to that safety release. "This lets you out any time. You've got your safewords and anyone who doesn't respect those is going to get a hell of a thrashing from my crop before I drag them off to the lifestyle building to hand them over to the first mean teacher I find. Someone like Skelp or Quirt. And I'm going to be right here next to you. If you can't take it, that's the end of it. No make up punishment. You tried."

Joshua twisted around, but couldn't see a clock along the hallway. "What's the time?"

As Dare took his phone out to check, the bell rang. It wasn't as regular as it had been at Joshua's school, some of the university lessons ran longer than an hour, but it went at the designated lunch hour and after the last lesson of the day. The times when everyone was leaving.

A door opened down the hall and his stomach dropped like the floor had just vanished beneath him. Joshua closed his eyes, hearing approaching footsteps. He should have taken the crop. It would hurt less than the cumulative effect of a swat from every Top who passed by.

"What's this then?" someone asked.

"What do you think it is?" Dare asked, sounding honestly curious.

The answer was so blatantly obvious that the stranger got defensive. "I meant what did she do?"

"He threatened to run away and hide instead of safewording. Then actually tried it. Now he's getting a lesson on truly not knowing what's coming next. Beyond the general category of smacks to his cute little bottom." Dare patted the piece of anatomy he'd just named. "A nice hard one with an implement right here and move out of the way so other people can have a go. He's only got until the corridor clears to get a spanking bad enough to make him pick my crop next time."

"He," the stranger said, like they were trying to memorise it. "Sorry, man, I shouldn't've assumed."

Joshua was about to say it was okay, they hadn't known, but then something collided with his butt cheek. Hairbrush, he'd guess, from his encounters with Sadie's. He gasped rather than managing to speak, his spine trying to curve away, but only pushing his arse out more.

He hadn't even registered the first stranger leaving before another impact. Opposite cheek. Oddly shaped paddle. It felt like it left a clear imprint, but of what, Joshua couldn't begin to guess because a ruler snapped down to distract him from speculation.

In theory, he'd known that public use etiquette was one smack and move on. If a Brat wanted a full spanking from one person, they'd target them. Hogging one on offer, like Joshua was, was rude. Knowing that still hadn't prepared him for the reality of the medley of implements rapidly smacking him into soreness and through to regret.

The time between smacks wasn't much longer than if there had been one person behind him. One person who could make their implement shapeshift and had no consistency in strength.

They had to be ...

Joshua peeked over his shoulder as yet another brush smacked his now worryingly tender bottom. Most of the students weren't interested. Bottoms or too interested in their after-class plans to pause to play. Most. Plenty were.

Those that were interested had formed an orderly queue. Implements at the ready, they just had to step up and swing.

He gulped and turned his eyes to the blank wall between the rungs of the ladder instead. A ruler caught one sit spot, right over Dare's opener with the crop, then another ruler, slightly wider, caught the opposite sit spot.

Joshua didn't count as the punishment built out of so many unmatched bricks, just noted that there were more than he wanted. At that point any number felt too high. The ache was absolutely not spread evenly across his buttocks. One wooden spoon user had even gone for a thigh, stinging through his trousers, but the other had escaped so far.

"Naughty little boy," someone new said behind him and Joshua jumped at the touch of fingers on his sore bottom.

Dare reacted immediately. He grabbed the wrist of the person touching and levered it away. "Carry only," he hissed. "You smack, you move on, you leave the scolding and rubbing it better to the Top who put him there. Hold out your hand. Palm up."

Joshua winced at the sound of Dare's crop getting intimate with someone's hand. That someone swore quietly.

"Out of the way for the next Top," Dare ordered.

"Don't I get to...?"

"No." There was no room for argument in Dare's tone. He didn't offer an explanation, just the certainty that he would be obeyed.

Joshua sensed them move away, then the next person stepped up to bring a stingy wooden spoon down on his arse. He jolted forward, feeling the tell-tale blister of an implement with a hole. The chain of the cuffs clattered against the ladder.

They were all using low level implements, but were dedicated to doing as much as they could with a single smack. His arse felt like it was glowing, aching in odd places and getting worse and worse as the punishment continued. Surely Dare would call a halt before long. It already seemed far beyond equivalent to six with the crop.

A switch, probably synthetic, stung down, crossing his bottom at the full diagonal and tears welled in Joshua's eyes. It was just too much. He'd chosen it, let curiosity lead him, and now he was paying a heavy price.

Joshua took a shuddering breath, only for it to be knocked out of him by a paddle a moment later. A short, lightweight strap, the kind more often used for hands, made him yelp and rise onto his toes when it was applied to already burning skin. Another paddle, this one in a strange V shape, hit at an angle that made each prong take a different cheek. He clenched, his crack and hole very aware that they had just been framed by a chevron of fresh pain. The next could have been a hairbrush or paddle and landed in the exact spot that had just been heightened in awareness by being missed.

His tears came. The breaking point was a rolled up piece of paper, swatting him with more noise than sensation. Forehead against the cold rung of the ladder, Joshua wept. Surrendered. Accepted.

Something shifted in his heart. He was still hurting, not the total fuzziness he'd reached with Henry, but his mind calmed. Each new stroke stopped being a shock and became just another thing that was happening. Joshua sank. He found himself smiling, despite the continued rain on his backside.

This was precisely where he belonged. The Tops punishing him didn't know him, they didn't know what he'd done, but they'd been told a Brat needed discipline and stepped up eagerly to administer it. And, fuck, did he need it.

Well past enjoyment, through suffering and into submission. A place where everything felt right, even the pain. Especially the pain.

Joshua turned his head slightly so he could watch Dare watching the queue. He felt safe, someone was right there making sure of it, giving Joshua space to let go.

And still the punishment continued. Identifying the implements became impossible, each just a flare of pain smeared through his senses like car headlights at night through a rainy window. No hope of knowing what was casting them.

His body shook with tears, all the emotions he'd wanted to run away from bled out in the salt. Each stroke pushed him closer to the ladder until he was pressed against it, lower rungs digging in along his body as he flinched away. Swayed back to offer himself again.

Part of Joshua, the vast majority, didn't want it to end. Even as the pain built higher, he was too deep under to consider it with more than a curiosity. Would there come a point where it was actually too much? Where it hurt too much to bear. Another transition into just agony, like a stubbed toe or an injury.

He didn't get to find out.

The queue ran out first.

There was a pause. No explanation for a long moment, then Dare's nimble fingers pressing the cuff release for him.

Joshua's arms dropped like they were weighted. He resisted as Dare tried to pull him away from the ladder. Dare would be mad if he left before the punishment was over. Dare didn't want to get in trouble with Dare. Dare was mean.

"Oh, am I, button?" Dare asked softly. "How about we sit down and cuddle and you can tell me all about how mean I am?"

"I was naughty," Joshua sniffled against Dare's shoulder.

"Yes, you were." Dare guided him down, sitting on the floor and pulling Joshua into his lap. "You were a naughty little boy and you took a very hard punishment on this naughty little bottom and now you're all done and forgiven and deserve a big hug for being so brave." His hand cupped his aching backside. "I'm so proud of you, button. I didn't think you'd manage all of them. This is ... quite a lot more than I think you deserved."

"No, sir," Joshua told Dare firmly. "I really needed that. If it was too much, I'd have safed."

Dare looked at something behind him. "I trusted that you would. You're such a good boy normally. It's okay to need to go all out sometimes. Problem comes when you need to brat as hard as possible all the time."

Joshua peeked back over his shoulder, seeing the corridor mostly clear, only a few lingering voyeurs. Several of them smiled and left now they were sure he was okay and being taken care of properly.

He hid his face against Dare's shoulder, suddenly very aware of how many people had just seen him punished. Had participated. And his arse was still out, being rubbed gently and soothingly as he snuggled against the man who'd put him in that position.

"Really, you're fine, button." Dare didn't stop playing with him, keeping the soreness at a simmer that made Joshua drift back down a bit. "Technically the worst you did was walk out of class and threaten to do something naughty because you were scared. And then you stopped me from running any further. In a fair world, I'd have been up there next to you getting double."

Joshua lifted his head just so Dare could see his eye roll. "If you actually feel guilty, take it to a Top," he told him. "This one, right here —" He poked Dare's chest to be really clear who he meant. "— is busy looking after a sore brat. Not available to punish anyone else until he's finished cuddling this one."

Dare kissed him on the forehead. "Heard loud and clear, button. Now lift up a bit more, you're getting arnica. No arguments."

He hadn't been going to, but Joshua whined about it a little anyway. Just to make sure he had Dare's full attention.

Like with Henry, the satisfied feeling was fading very slowly and the aftercare kept Joshua down and comfortable. Like a weighted blanket around whatever part of him carved submission.

Joshua wanted to keep that wrapped up as long as possible.

Chapter Text

Henry sat stiffly at one end of the sofa, as far from the next person along, Flick, as possible.

The coffee table had been removed from the space between the sofas and the TV and replaced with an evil looking piece of furniture. Flick had cheerfully called it a spanking bench, but it was more like a freaking medieval stocks. Darius knelt at one end, facing the TV, so those directly behind him got an eyeful of arse.

The only item of clothing he'd been permitted to keep was a tight t-shirt he usually wore under a button-up. A padded thing like a headboard with a hole locked around his waist, while his wrists and ankles were bound down, leaving him no way to cover or escape. His dick hung down between his legs, half-hard, telling everyone watching exactly how he felt about the humiliation and restraint.

Totally vulnerable.

Anyone could do anything to him and his only defence was the social contract of safewords.

Henry kept a sneer on his face. This is a waste of time he hoped it said. I don't give a fuck.

Inside a storm of conflicting emotions battled it out to decide his real feelings. Currently on top was jealousy. Henry wanted to be Dare. Not exactly the being on display and awaiting a punishment at the absolute limit of the safe range, but being able to be so calm about it. He was grinning and joking with Conway as the Top checked he was tied down securely. His arse was about to be blasted into oblivion by something called a Lexan, that everyone talked about in hushed tones, and Dare was as relaxed as if he was instead in position to get lovingly fucked.

The other side of Flick, Joshua was attempting to burrow into the Top's side. Lamb had claimed the sofa that gave him the direct view of just Dare's arse and had only been prevented from bringing popcorn by a sharp warning from Conway. On the other side, the sofa facing the one Henry was on, Sadie and Albert were perched nervously.

Flick made another attempt to inch closer to Henry to offer comfort he didn't fucking need.

Henry stood up, storming past Dare's arse. "Alby, up," he ordered.

"I'm not feeling Little right now," Albert informed him, crossing his arms. "And I'm not moving."

"You can either go hide behind Flick or I'll drag you up and smack your bottom. It's about time you got a taste of what it's really like to be a brat around here." Henry felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle to alert him of the presence that had just taken up residence inches from his spine.

Albert glanced at whoever it was, probably Conway, then got up and darted for the safety of Flick's side.

Henry smirked, only Sadie able to see it. There, both scared Bottoms cuddled up with the Top best able to comfort them. Albert needed it even more than Joshua, really, since he'd aided Dare with the dumb shit that had got him in this position.

"Keen." Conway's stern tone sent a shard of ice running down Henry's spine. "Show me if you're sore."

The ice transformed to sparks. Henry was saying the bratty response before his brain had decided which way it rationally wanted to go. "I don't think I want to."

"That was not a reasonable threat, Keen," Conway told him. "Albert being in a seat you want isn't disobedience. You were rude and confrontational and Dare can wait a bit longer until everyone is in the right mindset to sit, watch and learn." His hand combed into Henry's hair, pulling just a little. "It's okay to be scared, porcupette. It's not okay to take it out on an innocent Bottom just to make yourself feel a tiny bit more in control. That's going to get you a sore bottom every time."

Oh, joy , that nickname had broken containment. Probably Joshua's fault.

Putting on a display of reluctance, Henry undid his trousers and let them drop. He kept his spine stiff and eyes glaring at the wall behind the sofa as he let his pants follow them down. His motive for being a prick to Albert might have been sort of noble, but he had been a prick. There were kinder options that he hadn't taken because ... Just because that wasn't the person he was.

He was a prick.

No. A brat.

Henry wasn't sure which was worse.

Conway's hand in his hair, dragging him around to be shoved over the arm of the sofa.

Henry had known someone would object to him being mean to Albert. And he'd chosen to do it anyway. Because this was the result he wanted?

Okay, maybe he was a bit jealous of Dare for more reasons than his ability to stay calm.

The sound of palm meeting his backside, followed by a bloom of warmth.

Henry resisted his responses. He laid there. Gave Conway fuck all.

The punishment was quick. Just enough to make him feel warm all over his bottom. Lamb went harder for fun.

Henry flinched, his first reaction, as Conway rubbed away some of the sting he'd just laid down.

"There we go," Conway said, businesslike rather than Flick's condescending bullshit. "Does that feel better?"

What the fuck did he think? Henry needed a whole lot harder before it made him feel better. He shook his head stubbornly.

"That's okay too." Conway patted him. "You don't need to be in control right now, porcupette, because I am. All you need to do is stay right here and look cute with your bum in the air. Can you do that for me?"

Henry's face heated up more than his arse. "Go fuck yourself." He hissed at the force of the swat that earned him.

"Let me rephrase. You will do that for me, little brat." Conway didn't need to shift his tone at all. He was already speaking with complete confidence. "There are three things I require from you. First, you stay here, in position, or I'll tie you up in a much less comfortable one. Second, no more rude comments or I'll borrow Flick's punishment soap and wash your mouth out. Third, you will apologise to Albert or you'll get your first taste of Lexan."

There was something nice about being put in his place. Some of the same relief as when Holt had him over the stool. Like permission to be a brat. The Top wanted access because he liked looking at and smacking his arse, so, really, by giving him an excuse, Henry was being good. He was wanted. Exactly as he was.

A spanking was a really small price to pay for being somewhere he felt he belonged. A couple of months ago, he'd have denied any feeling of security, but the more times he got bent over the harder it was to deny the relief. Pushing didn't work the same way it had for most of his life. Instead of letting themselves be forced away, the Tamers pushed back. Stuck around. Tolerated his behaviour, even as they punished him for it.

Walking away would have hurt a fuck of a lot more.

It had with Marshall.

"Keen?" Conway picked up the paddle intended for Dare, a large, translucent, flexible plastic one. Unlike most of the high impact paddles Henry had seen it didn't have holes drilled through it, which was worrying. It meant that material, lexan, was bad enough on its own.

Worst implement Conway owned, apparently.

And, yeah, Henry was curious. He trended hard, as the Tops kept putting it.

Conway rested it against Henry's bottom, covering nearly the entire surface. "Last chance to apologise, Keen." He lowered his voice, like the entire room wasn't watching them and craning to hear and see. "You're not the only one freaked out by the idea of this paddle, porcupette. But I think you're the only one here who needs a chance to feel it before you can accept its use on someone else. There's a very big heart hidden behind those spikes, isn't there."

Henry wasn't ... okay, maybe a little. He wasn't a sadist. That was all. He couldn't enjoy Dare's suffering. And all anyone had talked about, or loudly avoided talking about, for like the last hour was how awful this was going to be. That didn't mean he needed a smack from the Lexan so he could understand exactly how much this was going to suck for Dare. He already knew that part. How the fuck would it help?

Besides give him that harder he needed to keep his brat under control. The part clawing at his chest after it hadn't been subdued by the light hand spanking.

Conway's reasoning was bullshit, but it got Henry what he needed, so no arguments from him.

"You saw Alfred needed a push to seek comfort," Conway said, laying that out like it had been obvious. "I was going to tackle that myself. Less aggressively. Without throwing my dominant weight around. You've got good instincts, but the way you top says you've got some not great beliefs about what a Top is. Selfish. Unreasonably demanding. No respect for a Bottom." He tapped the Lexan with each point, not hard enough to hurt, but Henry flinched each time.

"So, what? I should have gone over there and asked Alby nicely to go get smothered by Flick? When has giving a brat a direct order ever fucking worked? Without a threat."

There were a couple of shocked noises that he didn't deny his motive to help. Lamb and Joshua.

Henry glanced up to see Sadie smiling knowingly at him. Fuck, if both she and Conway had clocked him trying to help ...

It didn't matter.

They didn't see caring as a weakness. They fucking celebrated it. They wouldn't try to take advantage of it, because to them, there wasn't anything to leverage.

"Next time, be direct," Conway advised. "Acknowledge his feelings and offer a solution. Tell him you know he's scared and that's okay, because everyone else is too. Wait for him to act out before presenting the solution as a threat. If you've read him wrong, he'll let you know with obedience. But if you're right, he'll accept that offer by being naughty. Challenging whatever order you gave."

Henry hated that. Fucking rude to demonstrate what he should have done on him.

And him thinking Albert needed a cuddle was miles away from Conway thinking Henry needed a smack on the arse with the worst paddle in existence. Especially if he was right.

"So, porcupette. Are you going to apologise like I told you?"

Or was he going to ask for his arse to be obliterated? Whacked with something that beat out most canes according to the Periodic Table of Implements. Fucking pancaked. And everyone would know he wanted it.

"No," Henry said, clear and confident.

He was going to add a defence about how he'd succeeded in nudging Albert to seek comfort and how Conway could stick his Lexan up his own arse, but he didn't get the chance.

Conway struck.

It was too much. More than Henry could take.

One hit KO.

He howled. His fingernails scrabbling at the sofa cushions. He tried to kick Conway.

Caught a bit of shin.

Conway yelped, but there wasn't any retribution. Yet.

The pain simmered down after a moment, leaving a bruised feeling like he'd had one of Flick's worst spankings in the space of a nanosecond. Henry panted, deeper breaths hurt too much. The slightest moment made the burn worse.

He flinched at Conway's hand on his back, then whined as that flinch brought the pain in his arse back to too much.

"Ready to apologise?" Conway asked. "Or do you need more motivation?"

"I'm sorry! Albert!" Henry did not need more. "Fuck's sake, I was sorry already, just ... Thought being a prick for the right reason was okay. Didn't see another option." He didn't know how to make it seem sincere, when it had so obviously been forced out of him, but his earlier refusal had nothing to do with a reluctance to say sorry.

"Good boy, Henry," Conway said, somehow passing as genuine. "Feeling better about watching? Or do you want to safe out? No one's going to think any less of you if you feel too sympathetic to handle this."

Henry would think less of Henry. "I'm fine. Dare's doomed. He'll never sit again, but, like, I'll probably learn how again with a few months of physical therapy."

It had knocked him clean out of prickly brat, through repentant and into yeah, this is okay actually. Still mouthing off, but without the bite. Not a fix for the whole being a brat thing, but a fix for feeling shitty about it.

Inhibitions lowered like he was fucking drunk.

Conway laughed softly at his joke. Not at him, though Henry felt his spikes bristle briefly.

"You always get cheeky when you know you're too sore for extra?" Conway asked. "Snap, snap, snap, until someone snaps back, then you're right into adorable little brat and making me feel bad for being so harsh. Don't tell Darius or Ben, but you're one of the cutest things I've ever seen. All wriggly red bum and sass."

Henry squirmed, doing nothing good for the wriggly bum accusations. "You've got a weird definition of cute. Stop cooing over me and go smack Dare until his arse curves inwards. That'll be fucking precious."

His stupid bratty brain was telling him that a few more with that Lexan could be his ticket to subspace, so he actually needed Conway to piss right off and quit being a temptation.

"You're flirting with a mouthful of soap, porcupette," Conway warned, but he patted Henry's back and moved on.

Henry practically collapsed in relief. Tops were the worst. Always on his arse and ready to utterly humiliate him at the slightest provocation. And, somehow, he always gave them an excuse. He was, maybe, slightly, starting to accept that it was something he did deliberately.

That the humiliation was what he wanted.

Attention.

All that brat shit that he wished he didn't need, but had come to realise that wish was like wishing he didn't need to breathe. Birch was supposed to be managing it with a weekly prescription of a fucking cane to his arse, but Henry still had bratty flare ups whenever ... well, whenever a Top with a tough reputation was around. Like Conway.

Lamb leaned over from the next sofa and pinched his bottom. "Should keep you like this all the time, porcupette," he whispered.

Yeah. Honestly, they probably should. Only way to keep his shitty mouth under control.

Henry flinched and lifted his head to scowl at Lamb. "Keep your hands to yourself unless you want them tied behind your back."

"I'd love them tied behind my back, master," Lamb said, "but then you'd be in trouble with Conway for breaking position." He reached out again, not quite touching. "Colour?"

On what? Getting pinched again? That threat really should have got the message across that Henry didn't want it.

"Yellow?" Henry shifted his hips as far from Lamb as he could. "I changed my mind. I'm not punishing you with something you like. Touch me again without my explicit permission and I won't tie you up when we go to bed tonight."

Lamb beamed and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Yes, master."

That was ... new. But it made sense. Obvious, even, now Henry had seen it work. For someone as up for anything anytime as Lamb, denial was the worst punishment.

Henry finally felt like he was leading their dance. On top, even though he was in one of the most bottom positions available.

The sound of the Lexan paddle made him half rise in shock. His arse ached like he'd caught a stray hand swat as he was reminded just how much that shit had hurt. Nothing had touched him though.

It was Dare's turn.

Horrified and fascinated, Henry returned to position, but kept his head up and eyes on the trapped arse presented for them all. His stomach turned at the second stroke.

Dare was already struggling. Silent, aside from his ragged breathing, but testing the bondage. His feet couldn't raise even a full centimetre, but he lifted them as far as he could and kicked down.

A tiny noise as Dare impacted the spanking bench.

A loud thwack as the Lexan impacted Dare.

An unhappy whine.

Henry hadn't seen Dare spanked much, but he could see Flick watching anxiously. Shifted forward to the very edge of his seat like he might jump up and intervene. Only Alfred in his lap and Joshua pressed against his side to keep him down.

Conway was cold. Precise. Ruthless.

The paddle rose and fell.

Henry counted, watching for the moment Dare would break. Each time he didn't, when the struggle continued in silence, another knot of tension tied itself in Henry's heart.

Finally, on the eighth stroke, Dare cried out. A tiny, pitiful sound, swallowed fast.

The room was deadly silent between the way too loud cracks of the paddle, so they definitely all heard it. Henry wanted to scream at Conway. Make him stop. That little whimper was evidence enough that Dare had had enough. Continuing would be cruel.

Conway couldn't ...

Conway didn't.

He lowered the paddle, letting it hang casually at his side like he hadn't just ...

Dare's arse was smudged crimson.

Almost like it was embarrassed about the situation.

"Darius has something he wants to say," Conway told them. There was a little strain in his voice. Not as unfeeling as he was pretending.

It took Dare a moment to find his voice and when he did it was shaky, but certain. "I'm sorry. I let you all down. That's why I asked for you to witness this. I fucked up with one of you and abandoned the rest. Sadie, biscuit, I failed to be there when you were dealing with bullying. Henry, porcupette, I failed to support you when you were struggling with being a Switch."

Henry hadn't really ... noticed Dare's absence. Like, yeah, he'd seen that he wasn't hanging at the dorm as much, but he hadn't thought it had anything to do with him. But ... he had wished he'd had someone he could talk to about it. 

An older Switch who understood discovering a submissive side when he was already confident in being a Top and wasn't trying to fuck Henry like Marshall or contractually obliged to punish him for literally everything like Birch.

Dare could easily have been that.

If he'd been around.

Henry was surprised by how let down he felt. He'd thought he'd used up a lifetime supply of that emotion on his parents. His expectations for Dare had been nonexistent, but obviously Dare's for himself had been high.

"Lamb ... you're pretty much fine without my help, but if there had been more eyes on you, you might have been caught before you had three weeks worth of punishments built up." Dare was still going.

"Oh, yeah, that's definitely your fault," Lamb snorted. "Nothing to do with me choosing to fuck around until Indira found out."

Dare laughed weakly. "I let you suffer through a week of it before I paid enough attention to give you help managing the pain?"

"Okay, I'll accept reparations for that one," Lamb agreed. "Tears would be appreciated."

"I'll see what I can do," Dare said, dryly. "Joshua, button, I could have been there to help you with some of that curiosity in a safe environment and I'm sorry I wasn't. And Albert, I was a really shitty influence and got you in a load of trouble and I'm so incredibly sorry for that."

Everyone looked to Albert, knowing he was the one who really needed the apology.

Albert straightened his spine, sitting up from his slouch against Flick's chest. "Apology not accepted," he said, something very unexpected in his tone. And very familiar. A sort of snarling drawl, trying to pretend he didn't care, but unable to hide offended irritation. "I got myself in that trouble. And I really needed a push to ... to do something that would let me find out it wasn't the end of the world if I did. Only thing you should be apologising for is setting a nightmare brat loose on the Little Caretaker community."

Lamb whistled. "Is it just me or has he been taking attitude lessons from Keen?"

Henry wouldn't have volunteered himself as a good example of any form of topping or bratting, but apparently Alfred disagreed. The imitation was pretty good. Even with all the weird ways someone's own voice couldn't match how other people heard it, Henry had recognised his own trash talking style immediately.

Almost flattering.

"That doesn't excuse my actions —" Dare began.

Albert blew a loud raspberry.

The silence afterwards was stunned.

Albert giggled into it. "You can't make me do anything. Any of you. You can suggest naughty things, but that doesn't mean I have to do them. And it's exactly the same with good things." He gave Conway in particular a cheeky grin. "I could say no more bedtime and stay up all night and no one could —"

He squealed as Flick lifted and flipped him, tipping him over one knee like he wasn't over six foot of gangly, squirming brat.

"I suppose it is true that you can make those choices," Flick mused, patting the bottom he'd just given himself access to. "You could even safe out of any consequences or negotiate that rule being taken off your list. Is that what you want to do?"

Albert adjusted his position, feet and hands on the ground and his hips lifted in case Flick wanted to take his trousers down. "No, sir. I want you to prove me wrong."

Flick smiled fondly over Albert's back. "You're completely right that you make your own choices, little one. But once they've been made, you've also chosen for there to be consequences for the naughty choices."

Henry wasn't even the one it was aimed at, but he squirmed anyway. Did Flick have to go on about how they'd all picked the arrangement where their arses were public property?

"Darius apologised very nicely," Flick continued, reaching under Albert to undo his fly. "And you were rude and bratty in return. So, now, you're going to get a smacked bottom."

Albert held obediently still as his trousers were pulled down. His pants had a very unfortunately placed Thomas the Tank Engine on the back.

"Oh, that explains it," Henry commented loudly, his furious drawl more pronounced to remind them whose style that was. "Alby's cranky because he's got a train stuck up his arse."

Lamb was the only one who laughed.

Both Sadie and Conway moved towards Henry. Conway politely gestured for Sadie to go first.

Henry cringed as she smacked him smartly. Good sign for her general confidence though, so he whimpered softly to encourage her.

With a bit more force, Sadie immediately added another smack to his collection.

"Sorry, Albert," Henry said, exaggerating his wince. He didn't think he'd apologised to the kid ever before and now he'd been pushed into two.

"It does look like —" Albert was cut off by Flick's hand smacking him right over Thomas' face. "Oww! 'ncle Flick! No fair! You have to warn first."

"I told you you were getting a smacked bottom," Flick reminded him, providing a second swat. He was spanking like Albert was Little, even though that 'ncle was the first hint of him being in that headspace. Only three more and Flick started rubbing the sting away.

Henry was relieved when Sadie left his count at two. Even that little had stirred up the soreness from the Lexan.

Conway cleared his throat once it was obvious Flick had finished and wasn't letting Albert up. "Okay, Darius, ready for the last part? Five more."

Bastard.

"Green, but if it's one for every person I let down, it should be seven," Dare argued, even as his arse clenched instinctively. "Much more if we were going by how many I'd give anyone else who pulled the shit I did."

"You're getting five, darling," Conway said. No room for argument. "And naughty boys who try to tell me how to punish them get to kneel in corners with their red bottoms on display. Five minutes once we're done here."

Henry bit his lip to keep back a comment that would probably get him put in a corner too. Dare's pain still wasn't doing it for him, but Conway's topping style was. Strict, but not restrictive. Enough hard to make the gentle tolerable. And he'd seen right through Henry's prickliness.

He sort of wished Dare had been assigned to Birch and he'd got Conway as his DM. Birch hadn't done anything wrong exactly, there was just a distance. Birch kept up a wall of sharp humour, but Conway was so sincere it wasn't even funny. Ben's bluntness had rubbed off on him a bit, if he hadn't genuinely thought Henry looked cute, he wouldn't have said it. Birch would have, just to make Henry feel embarrassed.

Conway lifted the paddle. "Relax, darling. This is going to hurt plenty without those muscles all tense."

"Easy for you to say," Henry muttered at the same moment that Dare said it louder.

"Normally easy for you to do." Conway rubbed Dare's back, right next to the waist restraint. "You're taking this wonderfully, but we're not continuing until you're really ready. I'm very proud of you, darling."

Henry flinched at movement beside him, but it was just Sadie going back to sit on the sofa. She sat much closer than earlier and kept glancing at him.

"What?" Henry hissed. Yeah, he'd folded easily, but she should try even one smack from that bloody Lexan.

"May I, um, stroke your hair?" She started painfully slow, then said the last three words fast enough he barely understood them.

"What?" Henry asked again in a very different tone. "Why?"

She took a huffy breath like he was being stupid. "Because this is stressing me out and comforting you would comfort me."

Oh. Well. If he could be useful ...

"Green," Henry snapped. "Take whatever you want, everyone else does."

Sadie gently combed her fingers through his hair. "If you're talking about Conway, you absolutely asked for that smack with Crimson."

Crimson. Conway gave his paddles cutesy names? Henry was currently too sore to feel anything but a healthy awe for the guy, but he made a mental note to lose some respect for him later, when it was safer.

Both he and Sadie startled as 'Crimson' made a return visit to Dare's arse.

"I say a lot of shit I don't really mean," Henry admitted, quietly. The hair stroking was kind of nice. Mainly because it forced him to bow his head and meant he didn't get a visual to go with the next slap of the plastic paddle. "Just trying to prove ..."

What exactly was he trying to prove? All the things he'd needed to prove when he was younger — that he didn't care enough to be hurt, that he didn't need or want anyone else, that he was always ready to strike first — well, none of them were true and none of them got him any respect in this environment.

Conway was some sort of perfect super Tamer, at least according to Dare, Flick and what Henry had seen of him, and he was keeping up a running stream of praise as he took Dare through the last few strokes. It was a strength, a requirement even, for a Tamer to care for and about their Brat.

The older students all loudly and confidently needed each other. A freaking spider's web of relationships ranging from friends to disciplinary to romantic to sexual. And the more connections, the stronger each point on that web became.

And Henry found himself struggling to strike at all.

Sadie scritched her fingers against his scalp. "I know you don't mean most of the things you say," she said, like it was a normal, understandable thing. "You're just being a brat. A little test that the boundaries are still there and we're not giving up on you. Which we won't."

He grumbled quietly to hide the fact that her petting his hair was making him relax. "You'd be happier if you did."

"Nope," Sadie said, popping the p. "You suffer too prettily. And all this pouting and sulking about people being nice to you is kind of adorable. I like watching you squirm. Either in pain or because you're embarrassed."

"Oh, goodie. I'm so glad my suffering amuses you." Henry laid the sarcasm on thick, but it was the truth. At least he had something to offer.

Sadie's hand stopped moving and he looked up to see Conway helping Dare to his feet. Punishment over. His legs were shaky and he clung to Conway's arm as he was led into the nearest corner.

"Five minutes, darling," Conway said and Flick got out his phone to set a timer. "Then it's all over. All forgiven."

Dare nodded, but whimpered when Conway moved back towards the sofas.

Conway hesitated. "Colour, darling?"

"Green," Dare sniffled after a long moment.

"Thank you," Conway said. He scanned the rest of them. Joshua and Albert seemed calm, curled up with Flick. Lamb was irritatingly fine, leaning back with a lazy grin and his trousers tented at the front.

So it was Sadie and Henry he went to.

Henry turned his head away as Conway crouched down next to him. Then he was forced to face him by Sadie yanking his hair.

"How are you holding up, porcupette?" Conway asked. "Ready for a cuddle?"

He was, but the 'yes' caught in his throat. Barriers a bit crumbly, but Henry needed something more to get them completely out of his way. He opened his mouth to give a rude answer that would earn him more punishment.

"Green."

It took Henry a moment to realise what he'd said instead.

Conway guided him upright, then let Henry lean on him for the couple of steps round the arm of the sofa. The Top sat down first. "Over my knee, porcupette, bottom up."

"I was good!" Henry protested, even as he took position, offering his arse to Conway's right hand.

"Just so I can rub in some arnica," Conway promised, fishing a tube out of his blazer pocket and showing it to Henry so he could see it was the normal kind. No spicy kick.

Which, thinking of ...

"I did kick you earlier," Henry reminded him.

"An understandable instinct when smacked with a Lexan," Conway said lightly. "Feeling guilty about it?"

"Not really."

"Then we don't need to do anything about it." His tone was final.

Sadie moved in to stroke his hair again.

Conway gently smoothed a generous dollop of arnica cream over Henry's aching backside.

The two Tops weren't matching their rhythms, but it hit a sweet spot where Henry's mind went blissfully blank anyway. The points he was being touched felt like the only real thing. They didn't need much from him, just to take what they were giving.

And Henry took it well.

Chapter Text

The chairs were set out in twos again. No desks. Instead a kneeling pad lay in front of each pair.

Sadie's Top class filtered in nervously, most of them remembering that first practical lesson. Even the handful who had prior experience and therefore not had to have lessons with Wiel knew about how they'd been set up for daring to have confidence in their abilities.

Skelp clapped her hands for attention. "Pair up, please. We're going to be getting hands on today, but those hands will not be going on each other. Unless you both consent to that, of course. It's just not a requirement today."

There were a couple of nervous giggles and the students started splitting into pairs with more enthusiasm.

Keller looked a bit guilty about leaving Sadie unpaired, but Landon dragged him to a nearby pair of seats as soon as Sadie insisted it was fine. If she was left over at the end, Skelp wouldn't mind them being a three, but ...

Sadie crossed the room. "May I?"

Cherry Namgung glared up at her. "No."

"Burns, take a seat," Skelp ordered.

"Everyone else is paired up," Sadie pointed out. "It's me or making a public fuss about it."

For a moment Cherry looked like she might choose to make a scene, then she nodded stiffly. "Fine."

Relieved, Sadie sat.

"Thank you," Skelp said. "Right, today we have a new challenge for negotiation. Fairness with mass punishment."

She went to the side door and called in a long line of brats. Each hesitantly picked and approached a pair of Tops until there were trios all over the room. Two seated and one kneeling in front of them.

The boy who made a beeline for Sadie was Edward Lawrence, from her Discipline Through the Ages class. She hadn't sat next to him since that first lesson, he'd gravitated to a group of bratty friends and she'd stayed exactly where she'd started, but apparently she'd made enough of a positive impression that he'd pick her.

He settled onto his knees at their feet and gave them an angelic look that made Sadie's palm itch.

Sadie could see that there were a few more waiting, but Skelp stopped them once every pair had a brat.

"These are representatives of the, ah, League of Mischief," Skelp told them. "An organisation that, while officially banned from presenting itself as a university club, has persisted through the decades since Bratford was founded. Our very own not-as-secret-as-they-think society. This group was rounded up at a meeting held after curfew in the lifestyle building and I thought they would be a very good beginner practice for you all."

Edward was in the brat uniform for a change. All of the League of Mischief were. Drop seats and roll skirts all round. Sadie suspected that was at Skelp's insistence. Bums easily and similarly accessible. Enforced equality.

Skelp picked up a box of rulers and started around the room, handing one out to each pair. "They've been very secretive about what they were meeting about and, personally, I don't believe in punishing for just conspiracy to brat. So, they are here to be disciplined for breaking into a university building overnight. Can anyone name an issue with punishing a group this size?"

Sadie and Cherry both raised their hands, along with most of the class. Skelp wouldn't call on anyone with their hand down, but she would notice if someone never put their hand up and not engaging at all was a punishable offence. Of course, so was not having an answer when called on.