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Understanding

By Lawrence Kinden All Rights Reserved ©

Other

Understanding

It was twelve-thirty in the afternoon and Patrick Scott was still clad in his pajamas, face-down in bed. He wasn’t tired, he hadn’t even stayed up late the night before, the only reason the eighteen-year-old college student was still abed was because he was sulking. Admitting to himself that he was sulking was not easy and Patrick shied away from the thought.

With a deep sigh, Patrick rolled over, stretched his arms above his head, and sat up. He looked to his open closet door where hung a small mirror. Even in the dimness of the dormroom he could make out his pale face framed by long black hair and startling green eyes.

I suppose I ought to have a shower, Pat mused, but he remained sitting. His stomach grumbled but he ignored it. Instead, he thought about her. Melissa Harding. Until two nights ago, she had been his girlfriend and now she wasn’t. She’d said she’d found someone else and wouldn’t tell him who it was. All overtures to win her back had been ignored and now Pat was in a deep funk. He was about to lie down again heard the jangling of keys.

Sam was back from class.

Samuel McGary was a six and a half foot tall soccer player with ebony skin and black eyes who kept his head shaved bald. He was twenty years old and a junior at the college. He was also Pat’s roommate. Sam unlocked the door and pushed it open a bit then knocked.

“Pat, you decent?” he called. “Janey is here.”

Jane Gunnerson was a foil to Sam in many ways. She was short, not quite five feet tall, she had pale blue eyes and blonde hair, was a bit plump and very bookish. Janey was Sam’s girlfriend.

Pat looked down at his white t-shirt and black pajama pants. “Yeah,” he muttered.

Sam pushed open the door and flicked on the light. Pat flinched. Sam gave Pat an appraising look.

“I don’t suppose you decided to take a nap after class?”

“I didn’t go to class,” responded Pat without thinking. Then he mentally cursed himself for his loose tongue. Sam wouldn’t like it that he hadn’t gone to class.

Sam frowned. “Why not?”

Pat shrugged.

Jane came in and sat down in Sam’s computer chair she gave Pat a sympathetic look, which made him feel a bit better. At least Jane understood.

“You’ve got to stop sulking Patrick,” Jane said.

So much for understanding.

“I’m not sulking,” he responded without much conviction.

Jane shrugged and turned to Sam’s computer.

Sam’s frown deepened. “Pat,” he started, but was cut off.

“Please, Sam, no lectures.”

Sam ignored him. “Patrick, Melissa broke up with you and if you ask me, it was her loss. She was never very nice to you,” the volume of his voice increased to drown out Pat’s protests, “she was simply using your for your good looks. You are behaving like a pouting child and I think that it’s about time it was stopped.”

Sam strode to the windows and threw the curtains open, bathing the room in more light.

“What does it matter anyway?” Pat mumbled.

“You’ve skipped class the last two days,” Sam replied, “You’ve barely eaten. Have you even showered since she dumped you? Have you even gotten out of bed?”

Pat shrugged.

Sam let loose an explosive sigh of exasperation. “My mama wouldn’t have stood for such wallowing in self pity. Epically when it was for so silly a reason.”

“Damn it, Sam!” Pat shouted, “Just leave me alone, would you?” Immediately he regretted the words. In so short a time he had let his mouth run away again. He opened his mouth to apologize but the words wouldn’t come out.

Ironic.

Sam fixed his smaller roommate with an intense glare. “What have I told you about swearing around Janey?” Sam asked.

Pat cleared his throat, looking anywhere but Jane. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn’t mean to offend you, Janey.”

Jane nodded.

Sam sat heavily upon Patrick’s bed and put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know you think things are bad right now, buddy, but you’ve got to stop it. You’re ruining yourself and I will not allow it to go any further.”

Pat looked up at his friend. Sam’s tone worried him.

“What do you mean?” He glanced at Jane who had her eyes firmly glued to the computer monitor.

“My mama, if she were here she’d have spanked you red. I don’t care how old you are, she wouldn’t put up with such nonsense.”

Pat’s eyes widened. He let out a forced chuckle. “Good thing she isn’t here then, eh?”

Sam shook his head as he grabbed Pat’s shoulders. “This is for your own good.” Then he pulled his skinny friend over his well-muscled lap with ease.

Patrick was so shocked her barely struggled. “You can’t,” he gasped.

Sam didn’t reply verbally. Instead, he scissored Pat’s legs with his own pinned both of Pat’s wrists to the small of his back and jerked his pajama bottoms down to reveal Pat’s grey boxers. Sam could only gasp, now very firmly pinned.

“Don’t,” Pat pleaded, aware of the whine in his words. “This is humiliating. I’m eighteen years old. You can’t do this.”

“You haven’t been acting like it,” Sam replied. Then he smacked Pat’s bottom hard.

Pat let out a gasp of pain and surprise. The pain soon receded but was quickly replaced by a second hard spank right on top of the first, right in the middle of his bottom. Again Pat gasped and again the pain receded but not entirely. When the third spank came it was again right on top of the last and the sting began to build. By the tenth, the fire had been built and was beginning to rage.

“Ouch! St-Stop it! Ouch!”

Pat squirmed with all his might, trying to kick free and get off of this large man’s lap and away from the spanking palm. It was no use. Sam was an athlete and worked out daily while Pat was a skinny boy who spent most of his time in front of the computer.

“Please sto-stop it,” Pat begged. “I’m sorry.”

Sam still said nothing. Instead, he simply raised his hand and brought it down on Pat’s bottom in the same place again and again.

Pat began to cry, his eyes welling up with tears of pain and of regret. “I’m really, ouch, really sorry! P-Please stop Sam!”

His chest began to heave with sobs and his contained kicking slackened. His body went slack under the continued blows, but Sam wasn’t finished. Instead the older man picked up speed, spanking harder and harder until Pat’s tears were a steady stream and he was wailing incomprehensibly in pain.

Nearly five minutes after he had started, Sam stopped. He continued to hold Pat over his lap as he waited for the younger man to calm down. Pat used the time to cry into the bed sheets, letting loose his pent up emotions.

~*~

After the sun had set, Patrick Scott was outside leaning against a tree, staring at the moon. Normally he’d be sitting with his back to the tree but his bottom was still sore. He’d had a look at it in the bathroom. It was bright red shading to bruises in the center.

Pat didn’t begrudge Sam the spanking. The older man was like his brother and, quite honestly, Pat was grateful that Sam held enough fraternal affection for him to take him over his knee like that. It had been horrible of course, humiliating and painful, but it had also been a release and a wake up call. Pat could not deny that he’d been pouting like a child.

Fumbling around in his pocket, he produced a single cigarette and a book of matches. He closed his eyes to preserve his vision while lighting the cigarette. He inhaled deeply, and looked back up at the moon.

“You all right?”

Pat didn’t turn around. It was Janey.

“Yeah,” Pat replied raspily. He knew his eyes were still red too.

The small woman put a hand on his arm. “You know he meant well.”

Pat nodded. “Yeah.”

“He’s lucky to have you for a friend,” she said.

Pat raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. “What? You mean I’m lucky to have him.”

Janey giggled. “That too. But I meant that... Sam likes to look out for people. You’re a genuinely nice guy and you’ve been an indispensable help to his GPA. He likes you. Sam doesn’t get close to very many people.”

Pat nodded.

There was silence between them for a while. A breeze floated over them, rattling the leaves a little.

“Smoking is bad for you, ya’ know.”

Pat removed the cigarette from his mouth and gave her a sardonic grin. “Yeah? You gonna’ tattle to Sam on me?”

Jane smiled in return. “No. Not that he’d do any more than to tell you what you already know.” She paused. “You know, he spanks me sometimes too.”

Pat was shocked. “What?” This was the first he’d heard of it. He stared at her. It seemed unlike Sam to raise his hand against someone like Janey. Sam was such a chivalrous guy that hitting a woman, even in spanking, seemed unlike him.

“When?”

“When I ask him to,” she replied. “I’m naughty sometimes, childish, and I need someone to... I don’t know... to remind me actions have consequences.” She shrugged. “He’s gentle with it really. He spanked you harder than he ever spanked me.”

“Huh.”

Janey let the silence stretch before she said, “It was my idea for him to spank you.”

Pat nodded. “I see.” He flicked his cigarette into a near by ashtray. “Well... thanks for that.”

And he smiled at her.

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