"Get me something to drink" ordered Justin.

Mitchell resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the wolf's tone. A simple 'please' wouldn't have hurt anyone. "I'm sorry, young master Justin, I can't do that."

Justin frowned, and peered at Mitchell as if the refusal were a personal insult. "Why not?" he insisted.

Mitchell set down his dishes, and began to clean them studiously, one at a time. "Because, young master Justin, I am not your butler. I am your father's butler, I oblige by his instructions..."

With a rebellious sigh, Justin pulled his feet up onto the sofa, lounging as leisurely as he could. "I just want something to drink!"

"And you can have one" replied the butler calmly, "After you have finished your homework."

Pursing his lip, Justin started to pout. "Oh, come on Alfred, just this one time?"

Mitchell set down his dishes, and rubbed his forehead. It seemed like it had been an eternity since he had spent the nights out in the cold city air, tracking creatures such as Justin as his father. That had all come to an end very abruptly, and although only a few months had passed, the continual demanding and petulant presence of Justin had made Mitchell feel as if he'd been stuck playing the role of Butler for at least half of his adult life.

"Young master Justin," he explained calmly, "I've told you this before. My name is not Alfred."

Justin folded his arms. "All butlers are called Alfred!"

"I can assure you; simply wishing that I was called Alfred isn't enough to make it..."

Justin hopped down off the sofa and paced over to Mitchell, "Listen, Alfred, we should come to some sort of a deal on this thing. Is that okay?"

Mitchell shook his head firmly.

Justin sighed, "The only reason you're even alive is because I wanted a butler!"

Glancing down at his dish towel, his fine-pressed suit and ill-fitting polished shoes, Mitchell resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "And what an excellent selection you made, young master Justin. Have you ever considered a career in human resources?"

Justin blinked, "Are you making fun? Of me?" he stuttered.

"Perish the thought, young master" replied Mitchell in a blank, deadpan voice. "Either way, your good father has instructed that you complete your homework."

Leaning back against the wall, Justin waved a hand dismissively. "Alfred, I'm almost two hundred years old. I mastered mathematics and English lit when your grandfather was, like, still a baby."

Mitchell nodded, "Your grasp of both skills is formidable, young master."

"And I don't need to study history; I've lived through most of it. I mean, come on! I do not need to do my homework!"

Mitchell nodded slowly, "Very well sir. Nevertheless, I should remind you that your illustrious father has instructed that if you misbehave, I am to follow through with his method of discipline."

Justin let his hands fall to his side, "Are you saying that you'd spank me?"

Mitchell resumed his work, deftly polishing one teaspoon after another. "Let's not discuss such things before dinner, young master. Now, finish up your homework, and I'll add another coat of glaze to the duck."

Justin pouted, and stormed back into his bedroom, being especially careful to slam the door nice and loudly as he did so.

He slumped lazily on his bed, glowering down at his homework books. He had indeed already finished this course many times over his years, and he felt a rush of confidence as he told himself how easily he could ace this class, if only he were to try. Instead, his goal (and indeed, the very existence of such vampires as he) rested on his ability to not stand out, to ensure he wasn't the top of his class. Simple mediocrity ensured he set in the middle of the crowd.

He poked the books with his foot. Would their new butler really punish him if he refused? Justin shrugged. Knowing his father, that was certainly the type of instruction he would give... Justin knocked the books off the side of his bed, letting them clatter to the ground with a crumpled thud.

"Okay," he thought to himself, "I'll finish this stupid dumb homework. But that doesn't mean I'll be in school tomorrow to hand it in..."

A sly grin crept across the wolf's face.





"We could go throw some rocks at passing busses" suggested Justin.

"That could be dangerous" mumbled Kero.

Justin dropped back onto the grass. The park was quiet. It was Tuesday morning, and like all Tuesday mornings, most people were at work. Or school. Which was where Justin and his friends were supposed to be.

Patches shook his head. "Next thing you'll be suggesting is throwing cinder blocks off the overpass" he said sarcastically.

Justin's eyes lit up at the idea.

"That could be dangerous" explained Kero, with a strong moral tone to his voice.

"I guess" grumbled Justin. "Who'd have known that skipping out on school could be so boring?"

Patches stared up at the clouds, resting his head against a taut knot of tree roots. "It was your idea" he replied.

The wolf nodded, looking over at Patches. Justin figured that Patches seemed the type who was happy to look up at the clouds for a while. Stupid clouds, Justin thought, they don't even look like anything.

"We could go to the cinema?" chirped Kero, in his soft feline voice.

Justin shook his head, remembering what had happened to him last time he had ventured into the cinema.

"Should have planned something to do" said Patches quietly. He plucked a tall, thin strand of straw from the grass the trio relaxed on, and chewed on one end.

Pulling himself into a sitting position, Justin glanced around the park. In the far corner, an elderly couple sat on a bench. Aside from that, the place was deserted. "Where is everyone today, anyway?" he asked. "It's never this quiet."

Kero stifled a yawn. "Maybe they're at the football match."

Justin flopped back onto the grass. "I guess that's possible."

"Hey" grumbled Patches, looking over to Kero, "What'll your parents do if they discover you've skipped school?"

Kero bit his lip and thought, "Oh man. I guess I'd be grounded for a month. What about you?"

"Oh, probably the same" replied Patches, grinning to himself slightly, as if thinking of a joke kept only to himself. "And probably no allowance, either. What about you, Justin?"

Justin didn't answer. He received only one type of punishment, and he had been doing very well of late. He hadn't been spanked for almost two months. It had to be a record of some sort. "How about we go to the football match?" he suggested, purely to change the subject.

"Can we get a hot dog?" asked Kero.





It took Justin almost fifteen minutes before he decided that he couldn't sneak through the entrance to the stadium. Among the security guards and the full crowds, it was simply not a realistic means of entry.

"How about me and Kero sidle up to the guards, and slip past them while you perform a fan dance?" suggested Justin to Patches. The fox fixed Justin with a stern look, placed his hands on his hips, and shook his head in a definitive 'no'.

Instead, the trio slipped their way around to the industrial access route. The area was filled with trucks, hefty goods vehicles carrying assorted items. The strong smell of preservatives and oil filled the air.

Edging along beside a push-cart of boxes filled with team t-shirts, Kero took the lead, his smaller and quicker body eagerly peeking the look-out as the three advanced through the stockroom and into the hallways of the stadium.

The hallway gradually opened into a large main tunnel. Following the curve of the tunnel, the trio entered into the stadium itself. The air felt hot, and the crowd around them seemed to pulse with life.

They looked around. The stalls were packed, and despite their best attempts to stand on the tips of their toes, the playing field was obscured by the throng of people.

"We should moon the TV cameras!" insisted Justin.

Patches gave Justin a playful smirk, "Taking any chance you can to show the world your bottom, eh?" Kero materialised between the two, cheerfully chewing on a hot dog. The bun creaked beneath the weight of sauces, onions and pickles.

Neither of the three seen the security guard until he was already towering above them.

"Are you three kids lost?" barked the guard. He was a large, hefty man, every inch of his six foot frame padded with rolls of meat, his eyes powerful and demanding.

Justin shook his head, "No, we're not lost. We're just..." he paused, "Going to the seats."

The guard stepped closer, his shadow flowing over the trio. "Can I see your tickets?"

Justin paused for a moment. Then, with a flurry of motion, he turned on his heel. "Quick, Patches! Your fan dance! Use your fan dance!" he cried as he ran.

Kero and Patches stood, watching in bewilderment as Justin hurtled off down the corridor, the security guard in hot pursuit. "This won't end well, will it?" asked Kero.

The two turned, and patiently walked in the opposite direction, while Kero ate contentedly on his hot dog.





Gregory took a firm grip of Justin's ear, and tugged him along behind him towards the car.

"Oww oww oww" chirped Justin with each step, as he struggled to keep up with his father's long strides. He hurried behind Gregory as best he could.

Justin sunk quickly into the back seat of his father's car, and took one last look at the police station where he had spent the last few hours. The officers at the stadium had been less than polite when they had discovered Justin and his two friends attempting to sneak into the match.

His father did not speak once during the car ride home. Justin took every moment he could to try to memorise how it felt to be able to sit comfortably, without a hot stinging sensation in his cheeks.

Scooping up his hairbrush, Gregory strode through the sitting room and slumped down into the sofa. Justin hurried into the room as well.

"D..dad.." he complained, his eyes lingering on the hairbrush. It was wooden, the back was flat and polished, it's surface suitably wide. He'd felt it plenty times before, and although it was much easier to stand than the paddle that hung on his own bedroom wall, Justin still wanted to delay the experience as long as possible.

Gregory wasn't quite so willing to allow that luxury. He leaned back on the sofa, and patted his firm knee. "Over, lad. Jeans down."

Biting his lip, Justin blushed terribly, but he knew better than to argue. Under the stern gaze of his sire, he unbuckled his jeans, letting them slide from his thighs. His boxers were blue, thin, and as his father quickly motioned Justin once more across his knee, the fabric of those boxers stretched to contort over the curve of Justin's pert bottom.

Justin took a deep breath, feeling his rump muscles clench instinctively, and hoped the first smack wouldn't be too sore. Gregory took a firm grasp around the lip of the boy's boxers, and steadily tugged them down, by several inches with each decisive tug. Justin clenched his teeth together, and looked for somewhere to grab onto the sofa with.

"Arrested by the police! Of all things..." scolded Gregory.

Justin flushed deeper, "I'm sorry, sir" he replied. He knew his dad's lecture was going to be strong today.

Placing his free hand strongly against Justin's lower back, Gregory brought the surface of the hairbrush down across the boy's bare bottom. The echo gave a loud whack. Justin cried out, clenching his eyes shut. His body shifted forward, as if trying to push away from the brush.

Gregory swung the flat side of the wooden hairbrush down again. "Sneaking into a football stadium. Honestly, boy" he scolded.

It's surface smacked across Justin's bottom again, sounding so loud. The wolf's ears folded back, his bottom feeling very naked and very unprotected. He knew he was feeling the full sensation of each whack, and couldn't help but give a pained yelp. "Ow!" he yipped.

The next smack began to tinge Justin's soft little bottom a lightly reddish hue. The wolf started to squirm more strongly now, accenting the whack with an "Oww, I'm sorry!"

He clenched his eyes shut with the next whack, trying to hold back the tears. His father was spanking harder now, having built up to very firm whacks, each one echoing loudly in the otherwise empty room. "I expect far better from you, boy!" he scolded sternly.

Justin couldn't help but cry out with the next few whacks, tears marking his face as he sobbed. He kicked his back feet unashamedly, his hands grasping tightly onto the arm of the chair for little more than balance. "Oww!" he wailed, "I'm sorry daddy, please!"

By the tenth whack, the muscles in Justin's soft cheeks were no longer tensed, his soft buttocks trembling and shaking freely with each smack. Justin could feel the plump puppy fat of his bottom shaking, and the embarrassment made him cry all the stronger.  

"This will not be repeated again, is that clear?" stated his father strongly. It was not a request, and he accented the statement with another firm whack with the brush.

Laying there, across his father's knee and being spanked with the hairbrush, Justin felt utterly powerless. He squirmed, feeling so utterly embarrassed. Here he was, being spanked like a little brat, and there was nothing at all he could do about it. He squirmed and he cried, but all he could do was hope that the next hot stinging whack wouldn't burn too badly.

Justin wailed and cried freely now, his bottom growing a vibrant red shade even beneath his short pale grey fur. "Oww! Please daddy! I'll be good" he begged, without any scrap of shame left, "Please don't spank me, it hurts! I'll be... OWW!!" he snapped, the next whack of the hairbrush interrupting his train of pleading.

Gregory delivered the twentieth whack, although Justin was far beyond the ability to count how many he'd taken. He placed the brush down on the arm of the sofa, and slid his strong, large paw to rest atop Justin's very red and very stinging bottom.

Justin spent the next few moment catching his breath, and waiting for the tears to cease. "Right," said his father strongly, his large palm resting deftly upon Justin's bare cheeks to ensure there would be no further argument, "We'll have you in the corner for the next ten minutes. Understand, boy?"

"Yes" mumbled Justin.

Gregory pursed his lip, arched his arm up, and brought his strong hand firmly across Justin's plump, tender little bottom. "Yes what?"

Justin yelped out, "Yes SIR! Yes SIR, daddy!"





"So," asked Kero curiously, "What'd your dad do when he got you home from the police station?"

The cafeteria was bustling. The cat sat with Justin and Patches at a small table, chewing on the vaguely tasteless school dinner. Kero nursed a bottle of cola in one hand, sipping on it idly.

Patches chewed on a piece of carrot, "What? Oh, uh..." he paused, "Grounded for the month."

Taking a sip from his cola, Kero nodded, "I got two months. And no internet access, either."

Justin looked down at his sandwich, paying it rapt attention. He shuffled in his chair slightly, which he had been doing regularly since that morning, occasionally punctuated with a stifled wince.

Patches smirked playfully, as if rising to the challenge. "Oh yeah? Well, I got no allowance for the rest of the spring!"

Kero whistled, "Oh, that's severe."

The fox nodded, "And no phone, either. Yeah. What about you, Justin?"

Both the fox and the cat turned to look at Justin, expectantly.

The wolf looked from Kero to Patches and back again, trying to think up a reply. He couldn't think of a damn thing. "Wha?" he asked.

"How did your dad punish you?" asked Kero.

Justin glanced around. He picked up his sandwich, and promptly dropped it, quite deliberately. It fell, tumbling onto the floor. "Oh no!" exclaimed Justin, and dived under the table to find it.

A few moments later, and with his cover story firmly in mind, he scrambled back onto his chair. "Oh, yeah. Uh, he, cancelled my cable stations, and I'm not allowed to use my mobile for the next two months."

"I didn't know you had a mobile" said Patches.

"Yeah, yeah I do!" retorted Justin, "It's a very good one. An awesome one. But I can't show you it. Cause my dad's taken it away. Yeah. So, let's get out of here, eh?"

The trio stood and began to make their way through the cafeteria. Justin padded along ahead, eager to grab some fresh air.

Hanging back to walk beside Patches, Kero leaned over and whispered to the fox, "He got spanked again?"

The fox nodded, "You bet he did."