The Truth Hurts, And Heals
|by Rolf and Gayspankee|
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original authors only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 14 Feb 2000
Seeing Matthew like that made Marc want to cry. What had he done to his friend. Did he go too far? Will things ever be the same? Only time would tell. Marc reluctantly left the room. Marc wanted to hold him and comfort him, but Matthew was hurting too much, both physically and emotionally. Marc went into the living room and sat on the couch, and buried his face in his hands. He thought about what had transpired that night.
Flashback to earlier that day.
Matthew's face fell as the professor handed him that dreaded test. Not just any test, but *the* test. The test that Marc was particularly interested in. When Matthew saw that he not only hadn't gotten an A, but had flunked it miserably, he wanted to shred it, burn it, ANYTHING not to have to take it home. But not having the test wasn't going to help matters, it would only make matters much, MUCH worse. And Matthew knew things were going to be bad as it was. He had been warned. He had been warned clearly several times. But instead of studying, instead of keeping up with his homework, he slacked off, forgot to turn in some homework problems. Marc was absolutely furious, and told Matthew that he had better get that A, or there would be serious consequences to pay. Marc wasn't going to let Matthew get behind like he had the semester before, ending up having to read half of the textbook within the last two weeks of class. Matthew knew that Marc was serious, but he *still* didn't study hard. And it showed. And now he had to go home and tell Marc.
Rolf and Matthew had discussed it, and decided to ask Marc if he would help 'monitor' Matthew's schooling. They trusted his judgement, and it eased a strain on their own relationship. Plus, Matthew often got off easy. Marc was a softie compared to Rolf. Matthew enjoyed pushing buttons. Unfortunately, he feared he pushed the wrong one this time.
Class was never over so fast in Matthew's life. The drive home was all too short. Traffic was amazingly light. It was not going to be a good night for Matthew.
He pulled into the driveway and slowly coasted to a stop. Put the car in park and sat there. He saw Marc's truck. Matthew was hoping that Marc would be busy, that he'd have a little time to think up something, anything, to tell Marc about that test. But no, his prosecutor was waiting. Matthew gathered up his book bag, his courage, and slowly walked to the door. He was going to have to REALLY ooze the charm, flash those eyes at Marc, the eyes that *usually* turned Marc's resolve to butter. Matthew knew how to work the charm, usually getting himself out of all sorts of trouble. He was hoping that Marc was in a good mood, maybe forget to ask about the test, maybe be sound asleep on the couch. If so, Matthew was going directly to his room for some shut eye anyway. He'd had a horrible couple of weeks, very busy weeks at work. He was not only physically exhausted, he was mentally exhausted as well. He was truly living for the weekend, the weekend when he could rest, relax, enjoy.
Alas, Matthew wasn't getting out of this that easy. Marc greeted him at the door. Asked how his day was, made some small talk. Marc knew if there was good news, Matthew would gloat and let it be heard within mere seconds of entering. But Matthew's quick answers, and somber attitude told Marc all he need to know.
"Matthew, did you get your test results back?"
Ugh, the moment had arrived. Matthew just pulled the paper out of his bag and passed it to Marc. Marc looked at the paper. It was about as bad as Matthew had been assuring him. But the grade itself didn't impact things. It was a 100% or nothing as far as Marc was concerned. Of course a 20% might as well have been nothing. Marc had thought long and hard for days of an appropriate punishment. Something that would make a statement. Something that would NEVER have to be repeated. And he was sure that he had arrived at the appropriate decision.
Matthew was bracing for an uproar, a vicious lecture. And he was *really* scared when he didn't get it. Marc just simply looked right into Matthew's eyes, and asked if he was ready to hear the punishment that would be handed down.
Matthew returned Marc's look, and he felt like a deer in headlights. He was absolutely stunned by the quiet finality with which Marc just said he was going to be punished. There was not the familiar "Oh, Matthew what am I going to do with you?" There was not the familiar immediate ear burning lecture. There was not the angry look, the angry stance, that Matthew was used to. All those actions would have given Matthew an immediate avenue to travel down. Return the angry lecture with an angry response. Return the "Oh Matthew" with the charming eyes, the "I don't know why I find myself in this trouble either" look and beg for forgiveness. He tried to read Marc's eyes, but there was *nothing* in them. No anger, no quizzical look, and it seemed, no love. Matthew felt something that he hadn't felt before. He felt completely alone. A single tear escaped his eye, slowly leaving a trail of dampness as it rolled down his face. His emotions were in complete turmoil, as was his body. He had no idea what to think, what to do. He didn't know whether to run away from, or run to, Marc. Marc didn't give him anything to get angry about. And Matthew wasn't going to show Marc how upset he was. He clamped down on his turmoil, forcing his face and eyes to become unreadable, and nodded in a barely perceptible yes motion to Marc's question.
Marc took a deep breath and began.
"First, Matthew I want you to realize why you are being punished. Last semester you slacked off, and were so far behind come the end. Remember? You were grounded for like 2 weeks, and missed how many hockey games?"
Matthew didn't respond, he just squirmed hearing that hockey bit.
"I had promised you come this semester, that was NOT going to happen. But you pushed. You didn't do your reading. You had your books for weeks, and left them on the floor in the closet. Then the icing was skipping that assignment. Had you done that assignment and your reading, you may have understood what the test was all about. But since you didn't look at things like that, I have to punish you now. And it pains me that this punishment is going to be so severe. But it has to be severe to get your attention. It has to be severe to make a long lasting impression. And Matthew, I hope, I pray* this is the one and only time you are punished this severely."
Matthew's eyes were wide and attentive. He was scared, *very* scared. Marc had *never* apologized for any punishment before, never spoke of such a severe punishment. Matthew still didn't know what to think. He wanted to fall to his knees, grab Marc around the waist and say he was sorry, he would catch up quickly in his reading. He had already started on catching up during class, and had read a whole chapter just so he'd have some good news for Marc. He felt as if he were on the edge of a cliff, that Marc was standing there and not the least bit inclined to reach out, and help him from the edge. There was nothing he could grab onto. No emotion there, nothing to trigger Matthew's fight or flight response. There was, plain and simple, the fact that Matthew had been warned to ace that test or face the severe consequences, and the moment of truth had arrived. Matthew's eyes dropped down, looking over that imaginary cliff, and saw the jumble of rocks below, knowing as soon as Marc revealed the punishment that he would face, he'd be in a free fall, straight for the bottom.
Marc tried to read Matthew's face, but there was nothing there. It pained Marc beyond words to see Matthew like this, and to know exactly what effect his next words would have on his best friend. Marc had to work hard to shut down his emotions, and take care of business. "Matthew, it is now 6 o'clock. You will go eat dinner, clean up and then go to your room. You are to change into your sweatpants. At seven, you will report to the dining room. Your punishment will last from 7 until 9. You will be spanked at each half hour mark, beginning at 7, ending at 8:30. In between spankings you will be confined to the corner, either standing or sitting. The first spanking will be by hand. The second will be with the wooden spoon. The third will be with the hairbrush. The fourth and final will again be by hand."
Matthew was in shock. He was almost in tears just listening to this. He looked into Marc's eyes. "Marc...pl. please. I *will* do better, I already am. Please reconsider. Please." Matthew's voice began to crack at the end.
Marc's heart was breaking, but he had to stand firm. Matthew knew the deal going into the test, and he opted to ignore the consequences. Marc promised a severe thrashing for not acing this test, and he had to come through. If he didn't it would be a rough semester, Matthew wouldn't take him seriously. Anything Marc said would have went in one ear and out the other.
"Matthew, I have been thinking this through for days. It *is* happening. And it is going be just as painful for me as it is for you. Maybe not physically, but absolutely emotionally."
Matthew just stared at Marc. He couldn't believe what he just heard. Marc wasn't even willing to discuss anything. And he still wasn't mad. Just resigned. All of Matthew's emotions erupted in an instant, the fear, the anger, the pain. "YOU HAVE NO FRICKIN IDEA WHAT PAINFUL IS!!! HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND EVEN BEGIN TO TRY TO TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL? THAT'S A LOAD OF BULL, AND YOU KNOW IT!"
With that last burst of anger, Matthew fled to the sanctity of his bedroom, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the house. He was past worrying about his punishment, now he just wanted the night to end. He knew all too soon Marc would call him for dinner, a demand performance, and that he would then be required to eat, and the clock would tick interminably towards 7, and the first of four spankings.
Marc knew Matthew's reaction would be bad, but he wasn't prepared for this. He needed comfort. He needed to know he was doing the right thing. He gave Rolf a call at work. They talked for what seemed like hours, but was only fifteen minutes. Rolf assured him that Matthew would survive. He also warned Marc that the cold shoulder can get harsh, but Matthew would bounce back. Marc needed that reassurance. The one thing he knew for sure was this: he would give up the role of disciplinarian if it interfered with their friendship. They would be friends forever, but this would be something he couldn't bear if it broke them up. But Rolf's words helped.
At 6:30, Matthew was called downstairs. It took him a while, but he finally made his way down. His eyes were already bloodshot, it was apparent he was crying already. He looked at Marc again, hoping for an eleventh hour reprieve. But the only thing Marc said was, 'dinner is ready Matty.'
Matthew thought there HAD to be a way out of this, there just had to be. Rolf! Rolf wouldn't stand for this. Not this kind of a beating. He would call him, and tell him to stop this insanity. Then he heard the words that shattered him again.
"Rolf told me to tell you that he had to work late, so he won't be in until after 11. He said you will be in his thoughts, but he trusts me completely."
Matthew's fork just fell to the plate, his stomach was doing all sorts of flips. And this news made him feel all the more alone. He knew, way down deep in his heart, that he deserved this punishment. But he refused to think like that. He covered up that knowledge with anger, anger at Rolf for allowing this to happen, anger at himself for letting Marc know how much it bothered him, and most of all, anger at Marc for not backing down.
"Matthew, plllleaaaasssse finish your dinner. I want to get tonight over with as much as you do, and I DON'T want to have to add anything more to it. Please, for me?" Marc wanted very much for the night to end without any more hassles. He watched the storm in Matthew's eyes, the emotions flickering across his face, before Matthew shut it all down again. This was hurting Marc more than he thought it could.
Matthew locked down his emotions again. He refused to give Marc an inch. Marc was going to blister his ass, take away every shred of dignity, leave him feeling three inches tall by the time he was done. Matthew knew there was nothing he could do to change things. So he was going to hurt Marc the only way he knew how, but acting like he hated him. It took every ounce of willpower that Matthew had to pick up his fork and finish eating, thinking about what was to come.
Soon dinner was over, and as soon as it was, Matthew was back in his room. That was actually a good thing. Marc needed that time alone. He needed that time to regain his composure, and assure himself that this was the right thing to do. It seemed as though he was going in circles. He had already had this discussion with himself, with Matthew, and with Rolf, but he kept debating. Marc couldn't turn back. It was five minutes until seven, and Matthew would respect him. Definitely not tonight, probably not tomorrow, and maybe not next week, but eventually the pain would subside, the pride would rebuild, and all would be right again.
At seven, Marc called for Matthew. Matthew debated making this part easy, but deep down, he knew it was deserved, and a little higher up he was hoping for reprieve. He didn't get the reprieve, but he was going to get what he deserved. Marc was already seated and ready to go as Matthew entered. Matthew wanted so badly to run out that door. But he didn't, he went over to Marc. No words were exchanged. In one smooth motion, Matthew's sweats and underwear were at his ankles, and he was up-ended over Marc's knees.
Marc looked at the clock, this one would be the longest of the four. The first smack came down, hard.
Matthew tensed a bit, but he didn't make a sound. He tried not to make any sounds. That lasted about two minutes. He completely and totally gave up. What was the use, trying not to cry? There was no way around that, so he gave in and started sobbing, great big heart wrenching sobs that shook his entire body. The pain wasn't yet intense, but Matthew's cries had more to do the pain in his heart than on his ass. Within about five minutes though, the pain in his ass surpassed the heart. Marc was really laying into him good. Matthew was squirming, trying to get away from the hand that expertly punished his already tender hot flesh. Matthew felt as if he had been across Marc's knees for an eternity, and there was still no signs of stopping or slowing. Marc kept it up, absolutely wearing his hand out, not stopping for an entire quarter of an hour. Matthew's bottom was heated to blistering temperatures, the color a bright red. Marc finished, sat Matthew back on his feet. Matthew could barely stand up straight. Marc brought the pants and underwear back up, then led Matthew over to a chair in the corner, telling him to have a seat. Matthew couldn't hardly believe his ears. Marc expected him to sit? On a hard chair, now? Matthew turned his tear stained face to Marc, and saw no signs of faltering. He turned quickly away, and sat down slowly.
Matthew fidgeted and squirmed, he couldn't sit still. His backside was torched, and the hard seat was keeping the heat in. He cried some more, realizing that long before he was ready, Marc would be calling to him again. He built up more anger towards Marc. In the middle of this punishment, all Matthew could think about was how unfair it all was, how cruel it seemed. Marc was doing this to him, Marc was the bad guy. How he hated Marc. Hated him with a vengeance. It was going to be a long time before he could look at his friend again, with anything other than these horrible memories that were just beginning.
It was 7:30. Marc called Matthew to come to him. Matthew was frozen. He knew what was coming, he knew there was no way around it. But he couldn't freely go and take what was coming. Marc called again, more demanding, more stern. Matthew reluctantly got up. He shuffled over to Marc. Again the pants and underwear were slid down, and he was upended over Marc's knees. His ass was still a bright red and sizzling, since the heat had no where to go.
Marc picked up the spoon. If this wasn't so brutal, he would have teased Matthew and ran the spoon gently over his bottom. But there was no sense doing that, it would only make things worse. Marc just started smacking fast and hard. And Matthew cried almost immediately, as the pain was brutal.
Matthew couldn't believe the pain from that spoon. Each smack felt like a red hot iron landing on his ass. He grabbed hold of Marc's leg, practically ripping holes in the pants. He had no breath left to beg, the cries were ripped