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"submission_left_thumb_large_y": "200", "submission_left_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_left_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "", "description_bbcode_parsed": "", "writing": "\"Get your butt upstairs and wait for me. I'll deal with you in a minute.\"\n\nCurbing the urge to swear, Reckless Barrett shouldered his way past his father and two older brothers, then made an angry beeline for his bedroom. The moment he crossed the threshold, he slammed the door and kicked his night-table, overturning its contents and sending his alarm clock smashing to the floor.\n\nDownstairs, the head of the family frowned at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze settled back on his two eldest sons. Both of them were as upset as he was, but only his firstborn was alarmed for the same reasons. Just as Malcolm was dumbstruck by the raging, teenaged tempest Rex had become, so, too, was Sonny, who didn't know what to do any more to reach his second youngest brother.\n\nDalton had shared their worry...but it was clear he didn't share it now, not after what Rex had just inflicted on his Honda. Right now, the nineteen-year-old couldn't see anything past the damage to his car – unless it was an image of Rex with a black eye and a bloody nose, plus maybe a busted arm or two to go with it.\n\nTo Malcolm's experienced eye, \"fit to be tied\" was about the only way to describe Dalton's face and body language, and he draped an arm around his son's shoulders, steering him very firmly toward the front door.\n\n\"D, come with me.\"\n\n\"What — ? No!\"\n\nDalton didn't care to go and tried to dig in his heels, but Malcolm wasn't about to let him stick around when he was in this much of a temper. A man couldn't be a father to four boys for as long as he had without being able to predict a blowout between brothers – and one was definitely coming thanks to Rex's latest stunt. Dalton needed time to cool off before the temptation to hospitalize his younger brother got the better of him, and with any luck, a few hours outside the house would calm him down some.\n\nAt the front door, Malcolm wasted no time in forcing his second-born out onto the front step.\n\n\"D, I want you to go for a walk.\"\n\nDalton shrugged out from under his father's arm and spun to face the man. \"What for?!\" he snapped. \"So you can cuddle Rex on your lap like Kurt and beg him to talk out his problems in private? Well, he's not gonna talk to you, Dad!\" the nineteen-year-old raged. \"He's not talking to any of us any more! He's just acting like a brat punk and causing trouble, and I'm not leaving this goddamn house until you whip his ass for what he did!\"\n\n\"Oh, yes you are!\" Malcolm barked. Dalton's green eyes seemed to shoot sparks as he tried to push his way back into the house, but Malcolm stood his ground while he set his son straight with a glare of his own. \"You're not stepping back in this house for at least an hour, do you hear me?\"\n\n\"NO! NOT UNTIL REX GETS THE STRAP —\"\n\n\"AND HE WILL! BUT I DON'T NEED YOU CHEERING FROM THE SIDELINES WHILE I PUNISH YOUR BROTHER!\"\n\nAs soon as the harsh words were out, Malcolm regretted shouting them so loudly at his son. Dalton was flustered enough without his father yelling in his face, and this was aside from the fact that Malcolm wasn't even angry with him to begin with. He was angry with himself for not understanding what was going on with his family, and he was also angry with Reckless for not letting them in. Before Malcolm could apologize to Dalton, however, Sonny stepped up to restore the peace. The twenty-two-year-old edged past his dad to stand by his steaming brother.\n\n\"C'mon, D. I'll go with you.\"\n\nLike his father, Sonny wasn't taking no for an answer, and he nudged Dalton down the steps, squeezing his neck along the way. He wasn't much gentler than Malcolm had been getting Dalton to the front door, but Sonny had a way of disarming his younger brothers even as he was pressuring them against their will. Today was no different. Dalton still didn't look like he was enjoying himself, but he wasn't resisting any more, either, and for that Malcolm was grateful. With all five knuckles on his left hand clenched against the doorframe, he watched the retreating backs of his two oldest sons until they were halfway down the block. When he was certain Dalton wasn't planning to run back, he closed the door, stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then headed grimly for the stairs. Much as he hated to, it was time to wallop Rex's backside.\n\nAgain.\n\n∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞\n \nProwling the length of his room, sixteen-year-old Rex set his jaw and lifted his chin the moment he heard his father's footfalls heading his way. He folded his arms across his chest, then plopped down onto his bed for good measure, trying not to focus on the twitching muscles in his backside.\n\nHis mind was in turmoil.\n\nHe honestly had no idea what possessed him to scrape his house keys into the side of D's car, or why he'd done it when he was sure to get caught. It was one thing to grow impatient waiting outside the house for his family, but it was another thing entirely to pass the time by vandalizing Dalton's wheels. Had he really thought he'd get away with it? That with the front door wide open no one would hear the godawful screech of metal on metal and come running?\n\nWhat the hell had he been thinking anyway?\n\nHe couldn't even remember. The only thing that sort of stood out right before it was Dad giving D a hug for winning another ball game and the decree he'd made that they were all going out to supper to celebrate. There wasn't anything unusual about either one of those things, though, so Rex didn't think that was it. Not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the licking he was about to get across his rear end, the tenth one in the two and a half months since he and his dad had \"made up\".\n\nFuck.\n\n∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞\n \nArmed with the wide black belt reserved for spanking his three older boys, Malcolm hesitated outside Rex's closed door. Only seventy-two hours ago, he'd been standing in the exact same spot, about to do the exact same thing with the exact same child, and he had no interest in being here again. Normally, he didn't have to bend his sons over more than a half dozen times a year and rarely more than thrice with the same kid, but Rex had obviously shattered that record. At the rate things were going, he might as well start storing the belt in Rex's room instead of his own.\n\nMuttering one last curse under his breath, Malcolm ignored the growing pain behind his temples, turned the knob, then stepped inside.\n\n∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞", "writing_bbcode_parsed": ""Get your butt upstairs and wait for me. I'll deal with you in a minute."

Curbing the urge to swear, Reckless Barrett shouldered his way past his father and two older brothers, then made an angry beeline for his bedroom. The moment he crossed the threshold, he slammed the door and kicked his night-table, overturning its contents and sending his alarm clock smashing to the floor.

Downstairs, the head of the family frowned at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze settled back on his two eldest sons. Both of them were as upset as he was, but only his firstborn was alarmed for the same reasons. Just as Malcolm was dumbstruck by the raging, teenaged tempest Rex had become, so, too, was Sonny, who didn't know what to do any more to reach his second youngest brother.

Dalton had shared their worry...but it was clear he didn't share it now, not after what Rex had just inflicted on his Honda. Right now, the nineteen-year-old couldn't see anything past the damage to his car – unless it was an image of Rex with a black eye and a bloody nose, plus maybe a busted arm or two to go with it.

To Malcolm's experienced eye, "fit to be tied" was about the only way to describe Dalton's face and body language, and he draped an arm around his son's shoulders, steering him very firmly toward the front door.

"D, come with me."

"What — ? No!"

Dalton didn't care to go and tried to dig in his heels, but Malcolm wasn't about to let him stick around when he was in this much of a temper. A man couldn't be a father to four boys for as long as he had without being able to predict a blowout between brothers – and one was definitely coming thanks to Rex's latest stunt. Dalton needed time to cool off before the temptation to hospitalize his younger brother got the better of him, and with any luck, a few hours outside the house would calm him down some.

At the front door, Malcolm wasted no time in forcing his second-born out onto the front step.

"D, I want you to go for a walk."

Dalton shrugged out from under his father's arm and spun to face the man. "What for?!" he snapped. "So you can cuddle Rex on your lap like Kurt and beg him to talk out his problems in private? Well, he's not gonna talk to you, Dad!" the nineteen-year-old raged. "He's not talking to any of us any more! He's just acting like a brat punk and causing trouble, and I'm not leaving this goddamn house until you whip his ass for what he did!"

"Oh, yes you are!" Malcolm barked. Dalton's green eyes seemed to shoot sparks as he tried to push his way back into the house, but Malcolm stood his ground while he set his son straight with a glare of his own. "You're not stepping back in this house for at least an hour, do you hear me?"

"NO! NOT UNTIL REX GETS THE STRAP —"

"AND HE WILL! BUT I DON'T NEED YOU CHEERING FROM THE SIDELINES WHILE I PUNISH YOUR BROTHER!"

As soon as the harsh words were out, Malcolm regretted shouting them so loudly at his son. Dalton was flustered enough without his father yelling in his face, and this was aside from the fact that Malcolm wasn't even angry with him to begin with. He was angry with himself for not understanding what was going on with his family, and he was also angry with Reckless for not letting them in. Before Malcolm could apologize to Dalton, however, Sonny stepped up to restore the peace. The twenty-two-year-old edged past his dad to stand by his steaming brother.

"C'mon, D. I'll go with you."

Like his father, Sonny wasn't taking no for an answer, and he nudged Dalton down the steps, squeezing his neck along the way. He wasn't much gentler than Malcolm had been getting Dalton to the front door, but Sonny had a way of disarming his younger brothers even as he was pressuring them against their will. Today was no different. Dalton still didn't look like he was enjoying himself, but he wasn't resisting any more, either, and for that Malcolm was grateful. With all five knuckles on his left hand clenched against the doorframe, he watched the retreating backs of his two oldest sons until they were halfway down the block. When he was certain Dalton wasn't planning to run back, he closed the door, stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then headed grimly for the stairs. Much as he hated to, it was time to wallop Rex's backside.

Again.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
 
Prowling the length of his room, sixteen-year-old Rex set his jaw and lifted his chin the moment he heard his father's footfalls heading his way. He folded his arms across his chest, then plopped down onto his bed for good measure, trying not to focus on the twitching muscles in his backside.

His mind was in turmoil.

He honestly had no idea what possessed him to scrape his house keys into the side of D's car, or why he'd done it when he was sure to get caught. It was one thing to grow impatient waiting outside the house for his family, but it was another thing entirely to pass the time by vandalizing Dalton's wheels. Had he really thought he'd get away with it? That with the front door wide open no one would hear the godawful screech of metal on metal and come running?

What the hell had he been thinking anyway?

He couldn't even remember. The only thing that sort of stood out right before it was Dad giving D a hug for winning another ball game and the decree he'd made that they were all going out to supper to celebrate. There wasn't anything unusual about either one of those things, though, so Rex didn't think that was it. Not that it mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the licking he was about to get across his rear end, the tenth one in the two and a half months since he and his dad had "made up".

Fuck.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
 
Armed with the wide black belt reserved for spanking his three older boys, Malcolm hesitated outside Rex's closed door. Only seventy-two hours ago, he'd been standing in the exact same spot, about to do the exact same thing with the exact same child, and he had no interest in being here again. Normally, he didn't have to bend his sons over more than a half dozen times a year and rarely more than thrice with the same kid, but Rex had obviously shattered that record. At the rate things were going, he might as well start storing the belt in Rex's room instead of his own.

Muttering one last curse under his breath, Malcolm ignored the growing pain behind his temples, turned the knob, then stepped inside.

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