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"submission_right_thumb_huge_y": "300", "submission_right_thumb_large_x": "200", "submission_right_thumb_large_y": "200", "submission_right_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_right_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "", "description_bbcode_parsed": "", "writing": "\"Get in the house and go to your room. I'll deal with you later.\"\n\nCurbing the urge to grin, Reckless Barrett pulled on his handle and stepped down from his father's SUV. As soon as he turned and slammed the door, Dad burned rubber down the street like a fugitive from the law...or a man so pissed with his son that he didn't dare hang around him.\n\nSmiling widely, Rex jogged up the walkway and took the stairs three at a time straight up to his room, exactly as the old man had told him. The house was empty so he could have gone right out into the pool and floated for hours with no one the wiser, but he didn't.\n\nHe'd been waiting for this day for too long to mess it up somehow.\n\nOn the second floor, the last room on the left was his, and he headed straight for it, the grin on his face growing wider by the moment. He kicked off his runners and flopped onto his bed, then jumped back up almost immediately, too wired to sit still. He pin-wheeled his arms and paced the carpet, cracking his neck to release the tension in his shoulders. Unless his dad got another emergency call, he knew his father wouldn't be back for four more hours, but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye out for the Jeep Liberty. With each pass of the window, Rex peered down the street and scanned the corner of Verdun and Dufferin, his heart jack-hammering in his chest each time he caught sight of a large black family vehicle on approach. None were Dad, of course, and though he might have wanted to keep his post in case the very next truck was the one he was waiting for, he just couldn't do it. He was like a six-year-old hopped up on sugar at Disney World. His nerves were on a tripwire and standing in one spot staring outside on permanent watch was frankly impossible.\n\nOn his fourteenth trip back from the window, his busy reflection in the dresser mirror caught his eye and Rex paused to check out his profile. He was cute (the girl's bathroom at school said so), and working out with Sonny's old weights four days a week was clearly paying off, but he wasn't concerned about the growing definition in his upper body or the attractiveness of his face. In fact, nothing above his waistline held any interest. Reaching back, he ran both paws over the clothes that covered his behind and thought about what was bound to happen before bedtime.\n\nFinally, finally, Dad was going to give him a spanking. Didn't matter that the man hadn't come right out and said so. His tone of voice and what he did say confirmed it.\n\nGO to your room.\n\nI'll DEAL with you later.\n\nThe teen whispered these words to his reflection then cleared his throat and repeated them angrily a few times, the way his father had spoken them aloud in the truck.\n\nDad had never said that to him before, only to Sonny or Dalton or Kurt and only then when they'd fucked up pretty badly. The man never uttered those words lightly. When he said it, it meant you'd done something appallingly dangerous, wickedly perverse, or blatantly disobedient, that you'd misbehaved so abominably Dad really didn't have a choice about how to punish you. For as long as he could remember, Rex had heard those words directed at his brothers, four, five, sometimes, six or seven times a year.\n\nNever at him, though, and he knew it wasn't because he was angelic. Actually, he was the worst behaved brother of them all, but for some reason, Dad was always lax with him, letting him get away with shit that Kurt and Dalton didn't dare try and pull. Not even Sonny at twenty-two would escape punishment if he took the risks that Rex did and he was practically self-supporting. It wasn't fair to them, or to him, but today, Reckless was sure he'd found a way to balance the scales, to prove that his father did love him as much as the others no matter what anyone said. Their dad was going to punish him now, he was sure of it, and not just ground him uselessly like he usually did. Dad was going to strap his butt, really give it to him so his pup would remember not to put himself in needless danger.\n\nStill half-turned, Rex pushed out his lower lip and bounced on his toes a little, squeezing his butt cheeks and rubbing them the way he'd glimpsed his brothers doing in the past. From what he'd seen, it didn't matter how many birthdays you'd celebrated or how tough you thought you were, a Barrett boy always cried during a spanking and he always did this stupid little kiddie jig after Dad had beat his ass.\n\nTrying to work up a few tears to see what he'd most likely resemble in a few hours, Rex wondered how bad it would be. If his brothers' reactions were any clue, it wouldn't be pretty even if this was his first time and – theoretically – Dad should go easy on him. Not that he wanted that. He wanted to be a sobbing, snotty mess by the time the old man got done with him and he wanted a hug at the end just like his brothers got. Thanks to being in the right place at the right time, he'd watched enough of their punishments over the years to know what to expect and he didn't want to be cheated.\n\nDad better not even try.\n\nLetting go of his butt for a moment, Rex turned away from the mirror to check the cars coming down the street. As he was scanning the corner, a familiar Honda pulled up and parked, springing older brother Dalton and his ivy-clinging girlfriend out onto the driveway. He watched them cut left and make a beeline for the south side of the house, no doubt intending to skinny dip in the backyard then milk up the pool with cum while Dad wasn't around to flip out. Rex watched them disappear, a fierce scowl marring his features. It wasn't what they were going to do that annoyed him so much as what Dalton had already done to him. Or, to be accurate, what he'd said.\n\nWhat an asshole.\n\nStriding over to his bureau, Rex fished inside the top drawer for the family album he'd taken from the living room. Extracting it roughly, he sat on his bed and flipped to the back, and like they had been doing ever since his fight with his brother the end of May, his amber eyes fixated on the second to last photo. It had been taken maybe a year or so ago, capturing both he and his father standing one in front of the other, and whatever had just happened must have been funny. Reckless had a cheese-eating grin on his face and Dad was smiling too, though not quite as broadly as his third son. Rex didn't care. In eight full albums, it was the only picture he'd found showing just him and his dad looking buddy-buddy and he ran his right paw over it lightly. As he stared at it, his brother's vicious words flooded his head.\n\nYou know why Dad never spanks you, Rex? 'Cause he can't be bothered. He doesn't give a fuck about your dumb ass.\n\nDad doesn't give a shit whether you live or die. You're an idiot if you don't see it.\n\nReckless slammed the album closed and tossed it behind him onto the mattress.\n\nD was a liar.\n\nDad did care about him. He'd banished him to his room, hadn't he? And, he was going to strap him when he got home, everything he'd said and done pointed straight to it.\n\nHis brother was just a bastard. He'd lashed out and said those things only because he was steaming at the time and he'd felt like being a prick which wasn't anything new. It pretty much happened whenever Dalton's college butt got spanked, and if his younger brothers were on hand to witness his disgrace, a bigger asshole you'd never find. Well, on May 14th, Rex had witnessed a lot.\n\nHe'd been hanging around the house on a ped day when Dad had come home at noon, found Dalton skipping his classes again and promptly lost it, yelling about D's suck-ass grades, how he was wasting hard-earned money and acting like a spoiled, preppie slacker, yada, yada, yada. You name it, Dad yelled it and Rex had heard it all.\n\nHell, he hadn't just heard it; he'd seen it, too: Big Brother getting marched upstairs by his upper arm, the stinging slaps he'd suffered to his butt most of the way up, the side trip to Dad's room to collect the belt, the wrenching of D's chinos and boxer briefs down to mid-thigh, the way his dick had bobbled when Dad yanked him closer, and, of course, the panicked way Dalton had kept twisting around and trying to cover his butt between each snap of the belt.\n\nMaybe if Rex had made himself scarce once it was over D might have forgotten how much he'd seen, but Rex hadn't been that polite. He'd stayed right there in the hallway when Dad had strode out and left the door wide open, giving him a perfect line of sight into his older brother's room.\n\nBig mistake.\n\nHe knew D always kept a low profile after a whipping so he could lick his wounds in private and he knew the guy hated for anyone to see him in tears, looking all uncool. He particularly hated to be caught crying for something as Barney-ish as a kiddie spanking over his daddy's lap so it hadn't been a great surprise when he'd looked over, found Rex spying on him doing just that, and lost his temper. As far as D was concerned, Rex had no business rubbernecking from the safety of his room, especially when he'd never once gotten his ass striped by Dad, or felt compelled to hop half-naked beside the bed, wet-faced, sniffling, miserable and sore. He certainly had no right to snicker.\n\nRex knew all that, too.\n\nThe moment the sound had escaped his mouth, he'd regretted it, but his older brother hadn't given him a chance to apologize. Yanking up his pants and corking the waterworks quick, D had come barrelling out straight for him, jamming him into his closet door. He'd accused him of calling their father at work and ratting him out, and when Rex had denied it, Dalton had lashed out next with his tongue, verbalizing suspicions Reckless had never even considered.\n\n\"What are you laughing at, huh? You think you're so special 'cause you never get your butt kicked? Well, you're not!\"\n\n\"Get off me, D! You're hurting my back!\"\n\n\"I don't give a shit! You know why Dad never spanks you, Rex? 'Cause he can't be bothered. He doesn't give a fuck about your dumb ass.\"\n\n\"Get off me! That's not even true!\"\n\n\"Oh yes, it is. Ask him some time. Dad doesn't give a shit whether you live or die and you're an idiot if you don't see it.\"\n\nAfter D had given him one last shove then stormed back to his room and slammed the door, Rex had stood scowling by the dresser. At first, he'd tried to flex out the ache between his shoulder blades but then he'd laughed, loudly and deliberately to emphasize his disdain. D didn't know what the hell he was talking about and with his ass burning like a freshly kindled smokestack it was no wonder he was being such a dickhead. Except...\n\n...was he right?\n\nRex had never spent much time before pondering the dynamics of the Barrett family but Dalton's accusations hadn't given him a choice and he'd kicked his own door shut to think about it in peace. Soon enough, all the inconsistencies between the way he was treated and the way his brothers were being raised came to mind.\n\nThe spontaneous bear hugs they got that he didn't.\n\nThe playful cuffs about the head that never seemed to reach his.\n\nThe rough-housing that only included him if he forced his way into the melee.\n\nAnd then there was the question of discipline.\n\nWhere his brothers got yelled at, he got the silent treatment.\n\nWhen they got spanked, he got grounded and if he was brazen enough to cheat, Dad never confronted him. What was up with that?\n\nAll of these facts conspired to prove Dalton's point but Rex wasn't about to give in. It wasn't like he felt his father hated him. After all, the man did put the occasional arm around his shoulders and they kinda talked now and again even if their conversations were largely short and insignificant.\n\nNo, it wasn't deliberate.\n\nReckless didn't want to believe it.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": ""Get in the house and go to your room. I'll deal with you later."

Curbing the urge to grin, Reckless Barrett pulled on his handle and stepped down from his father's SUV. As soon as he turned and slammed the door, Dad burned rubber down the street like a fugitive from the law...or a man so pissed with his son that he didn't dare hang around him.

Smiling widely, Rex jogged up the walkway and took the stairs three at a time straight up to his room, exactly as the old man had told him. The house was empty so he could have gone right out into the pool and floated for hours with no one the wiser, but he didn't.

He'd been waiting for this day for too long to mess it up somehow.

On the second floor, the last room on the left was his, and he headed straight for it, the grin on his face growing wider by the moment. He kicked off his runners and flopped onto his bed, then jumped back up almost immediately, too wired to sit still. He pin-wheeled his arms and paced the carpet, cracking his neck to release the tension in his shoulders. Unless his dad got another emergency call, he knew his father wouldn't be back for four more hours, but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye out for the Jeep Liberty. With each pass of the window, Rex peered down the street and scanned the corner of Verdun and Dufferin, his heart jack-hammering in his chest each time he caught sight of a large black family vehicle on approach. None were Dad, of course, and though he might have wanted to keep his post in case the very next truck was the one he was waiting for, he just couldn't do it. He was like a six-year-old hopped up on sugar at Disney World. His nerves were on a tripwire and standing in one spot staring outside on permanent watch was frankly impossible.

On his fourteenth trip back from the window, his busy reflection in the dresser mirror caught his eye and Rex paused to check out his profile. He was cute (the girl's bathroom at school said so), and working out with Sonny's old weights four days a week was clearly paying off, but he wasn't concerned about the growing definition in his upper body or the attractiveness of his face. In fact, nothing above his waistline held any interest. Reaching back, he ran both paws over the clothes that covered his behind and thought about what was bound to happen before bedtime.

Finally, finally, Dad was going to give him a spanking. Didn't matter that the man hadn't come right out and said so. His tone of voice and what he did say confirmed it.

GO to your room.

I'll DEAL with you later.

The teen whispered these words to his reflection then cleared his throat and repeated them angrily a few times, the way his father had spoken them aloud in the truck.

Dad had never said that to him before, only to Sonny or Dalton or Kurt and only then when they'd fucked up pretty badly. The man never uttered those words lightly. When he said it, it meant you'd done something appallingly dangerous, wickedly perverse, or blatantly disobedient, that you'd misbehaved so abominably Dad really didn't have a choice about how to punish you. For as long as he could remember, Rex had heard those words directed at his brothers, four, five, sometimes, six or seven times a year.

Never at him, though, and he knew it wasn't because he was angelic. Actually, he was the worst behaved brother of them all, but for some reason, Dad was always lax with him, letting him get away with shit that Kurt and Dalton didn't dare try and pull. Not even Sonny at twenty-two would escape punishment if he took the risks that Rex did and he was practically self-supporting. It wasn't fair to them, or to him, but today, Reckless was sure he'd found a way to balance the scales, to prove that his father did love him as much as the others no matter what anyone said. Their dad was going to punish him now, he was sure of it, and not just ground him uselessly like he usually did. Dad was going to strap his butt, really give it to him so his pup would remember not to put himself in needless danger.

Still half-turned, Rex pushed out his lower lip and bounced on his toes a little, squeezing his butt cheeks and rubbing them the way he'd glimpsed his brothers doing in the past. From what he'd seen, it didn't matter how many birthdays you'd celebrated or how tough you thought you were, a Barrett boy always cried during a spanking and he always did this stupid little kiddie jig after Dad had beat his ass.

Trying to work up a few tears to see what he'd most likely resemble in a few hours, Rex wondered how bad it would be. If his brothers' reactions were any clue, it wouldn't be pretty even if this was his first time and – theoretically – Dad should go easy on him. Not that he wanted that. He wanted to be a sobbing, snotty mess by the time the old man got done with him and he wanted a hug at the end just like his brothers got. Thanks to being in the right place at the right time, he'd watched enough of their punishments over the years to know what to expect and he didn't want to be cheated.

Dad better not even try.

Letting go of his butt for a moment, Rex turned away from the mirror to check the cars coming down the street. As he was scanning the corner, a familiar Honda pulled up and parked, springing older brother Dalton and his ivy-clinging girlfriend out onto the driveway. He watched them cut left and make a beeline for the south side of the house, no doubt intending to skinny dip in the backyard then milk up the pool with cum while Dad wasn't around to flip out. Rex watched them disappear, a fierce scowl marring his features. It wasn't what they were going to do that annoyed him so much as what Dalton had already done to him. Or, to be accurate, what he'd said.

What an asshole.

Striding over to his bureau, Rex fished inside the top drawer for the family album he'd taken from the living room. Extracting it roughly, he sat on his bed and flipped to the back, and like they had been doing ever since his fight with his brother the end of May, his amber eyes fixated on the second to last photo. It had been taken maybe a year or so ago, capturing both he and his father standing one in front of the other, and whatever had just happened must have been funny. Reckless had a cheese-eating grin on his face and Dad was smiling too, though not quite as broadly as his third son. Rex didn't care. In eight full albums, it was the only picture he'd found showing just him and his dad looking buddy-buddy and he ran his right paw over it lightly. As he stared at it, his brother's vicious words flooded his head.

You know why Dad never spanks you, Rex? 'Cause he can't be bothered. He doesn't give a fuck about your dumb ass.

Dad doesn't give a shit whether you live or die. You're an idiot if you don't see it.

Reckless slammed the album closed and tossed it behind him onto the mattress.

D was a liar.

Dad did care about him. He'd banished him to his room, hadn't he? And, he was going to strap him when he got home, everything he'd said and done pointed straight to it.

His brother was just a bastard. He'd lashed out and said those things only because he was steaming at the time and he'd felt like being a prick which wasn't anything new. It pretty much happened whenever Dalton's college butt got spanked, and if his younger brothers were on hand to witness his disgrace, a bigger asshole you'd never find. Well, on May 14th, Rex had witnessed a lot.

He'd been hanging around the house on a ped day when Dad had come home at noon, found Dalton skipping his classes again and promptly lost it, yelling about D's suck-ass grades, how he was wasting hard-earned money and acting like a spoiled, preppie slacker, yada, yada, yada. You name it, Dad yelled it and Rex had heard it all.

Hell, he hadn't just heard it; he'd seen it, too: Big Brother getting marched upstairs by his upper arm, the stinging slaps he'd suffered to his butt most of the way up, the side trip to Dad's room to collect the belt, the wrenching of D's chinos and boxer briefs down to mid-thigh, the way his dick had bobbled when Dad yanked him closer, and, of course, the panicked way Dalton had kept twisting around and trying to cover his butt between each snap of the belt.

Maybe if Rex had made himself scarce once it was over D might have forgotten how much he'd seen, but Rex hadn't been that polite. He'd stayed right there in the hallway when Dad had strode out and left the door wide open, giving him a perfect line of sight into his older brother's room.

Big mistake.

He knew D always kept a low profile after a whipping so he could lick his wounds in private and he knew the guy hated for anyone to see him in tears, looking all uncool. He particularly hated to be caught crying for something as Barney-ish as a kiddie spanking over his daddy's lap so it hadn't been a great surprise when he'd looked over, found Rex spying on him doing just that, and lost his temper. As far as D was concerned, Rex had no business rubbernecking from the safety of his room, especially when he'd never once gotten his ass striped by Dad, or felt compelled to hop half-naked beside the bed, wet-faced, sniffling, miserable and sore. He certainly had no right to snicker.

Rex knew all that, too.

The moment the sound had escaped his mouth, he'd regretted it, but his older brother hadn't given him a chance to apologize. Yanking up his pants and corking the waterworks quick, D had come barrelling out straight for him, jamming him into his closet door. He'd accused him of calling their father at work and ratting him out, and when Rex had denied it, Dalton had lashed out next with his tongue, verbalizing suspicions Reckless had never even considered.

"What are you laughing at, huh? You think you're so special 'cause you never get your butt kicked? Well, you're not!"

"Get off me, D! You're hurting my back!"

"I don't give a shit! You know why Dad never spanks you, Rex? 'Cause he can't be bothered. He doesn't give a fuck about your dumb ass."

"Get off me! That's not even true!"

"Oh yes, it is. Ask him some time. Dad doesn't give a shit whether you live or die and you're an idiot if you don't see it."

After D had given him one last shove then stormed back to his room and slammed the door, Rex had stood scowling by the dresser. At first, he'd tried to flex out the ache between his shoulder blades but then he'd laughed, loudly and deliberately to emphasize his disdain. D didn't know what the hell he was talking about and with his ass burning like a freshly kindled smokestack it was no wonder he was being such a dickhead. Except...

...was he right?

Rex had never spent much time before pondering the dynamics of the Barrett family but Dalton's accusations hadn't given him a choice and he'd kicked his own door shut to think about it in peace. Soon enough, all the inconsistencies between the way he was treated and the way his brothers were being raised came to mind.

The spontaneous bear hugs they got that he didn't.

The playful cuffs about the head that never seemed to reach his.

The rough-housing that only included him if he forced his way into the melee.

And then there was the question of discipline.

Where his brothers got yelled at, he got the silent treatment.

When they got spanked, he got grounded and if he was brazen enough to cheat, Dad never confronted him. What was up with that?

All of these facts conspired to prove Dalton's point but Rex wasn't about to give in. It wasn't like he felt his father hated him. After all, the man did put the occasional arm around his shoulders and they kinda talked now and again even if their conversations were largely short and insignificant.

No, it wasn't deliberate.

Reckless didn't want to believe it.", "pools_count": 1, "title": "Reckless & His Dad's Belt (1)", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "1", "rating_name": "Mature", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "2", "name": "Nudity", "description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)", "rating_id": "1" }, { "content_tag_id": "3", "name": "Violence", "description": "Mild violence", "rating_id": "1" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "f", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "1", "views": "263" }