This isn’t polished or anything and it could certainly be better with some reworking but here it is. LOL   Thank you to those who requested it, I appreciate it very much.  I know it may not be everyone’s cup of tea but it might bring about some discussion.

 

 

Pairing:  Ben/Kyle

Implement:  Hand

Warning:  self-flagellation depicted

 

Penance

 

“You’re an asshole,” Kyle snarled into the phone.

 

There was a long pause at the other end of the line and then a calm, “The meeting will be over in a couple of hours.  We’ll talk about it when I get home.”

 

Kyle didn’t even bother saying good-bye, just slammed the receiver down on the charger and swore.  Disappointment, bitter and strong, churned deep in his stomach.  Ben had promised that he’d be home tonight in time to go to the Detour.  They hadn’t been in weeks and now it would likely to at least another week before they had the chance to go again.  The surge of anger was so uncharacteristic Kyle was shaken by the feeling itself, never mind that it was directed at Ben.

 

Pacing the living room Kyle could feel the resentment coursing through him, powerful and all-consuming.  Even knowing that Ben would never have cancelled their plans unless he had absolutely no choice all he could feel for a few moments was that bitterness.  It was impossible for Kyle to sustain that level of emotion for long though and as he paced the heat of his anger gradually seeped from him, leaving him trembling and drained. 

 

He sank down on the couch and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand.  Had he really said that to Ben?  It was so unexpected that to Kyle it didn’t even seem real.  The horrible sinking feeling in his chest was telling him it was real though, very real.   His face flushed hot with shame rather than anger now and he fought back the urge to give into tears.   It was too awful to sit there and think about and Kyle stood up abruptly. 

 

Wandering from room to room, Kyle tried to distract himself but every time he thought of what he’d said his face flushed anew.  It was unforgivable he told himself, disrespecting Ben like that.  He found himself in their bedroom and he flopped down on his back on the bed, becoming more distressed by the minute.  His eyes finally came to rest on the large box they kept on a closet shelf.  Most of their toys were kept in the playroom but for convenience sakes they kept a selection on hand to be used in the bedroom if the mood struck them. 

 

No, he told himself sternly, turning over on his side so the box was out of his line of vision.  While the toys were his to maintain and clean, they ‘belonged’ to Ben and weren’t to be used without his permission.  Long minutes of arguing with himself passed before Kyle suddenly hurled himself out of bed and stalked to the closet. 

 

Reaching up to the highest shelf, he lifted the wooden box down.  As always his hands lovingly smoothed the polished surface of the lid before he raised it.  He eagerly reached for the flogger resting on top but then stopped, his resolve wavering.  His natural instinct to obey one of Ben’s edicts and the intense desire to do penance as he saw fit warred within him.   The need for atonement was too strong, despite knowing he was making the wrong decision he lifted the flogger with a trembling hand and closed the lid.  He sank down on his knees on the floor of the closet, clutching the implement tightly in his hand.  Bringing it to his lips he kissed the leather of the strands, offering his penitence.

 

He intended only to give himself a light punishment, a few strokes to ease the awful weight of his guilt and they would fade before Ben had a chance to see them.  He shuffled from the closet to the bedroom where he would have more space to swing his arm.   Laying the flogger down, he eagerly stripped off his shirt, anxious to feel it across his back.  Gripping the handle in his right hand he lifted it across his shoulder and brought the lash down across his upper back.  Several strokes fell before he switched hands and lashed the skin of the opposite side.  He paused, panting, waiting to feel that lessening of his remorse.  It wasn’t enough he thought, panicked.  Not nearly enough and he raised his arm again.  The next few minutes were a blur to Kyle and when he finally stopped simply because his arm was too tired to continue, he slumped forward with his head on the carpet, gasping for breath. 

 

Gradually his breathing slowed and the haze in his mind lightened enough to feel the pain.  He staggered to his feet and went to the large mirror in their ensuite.  He had to steel himself to look and when he did bile rose in his throat.  His entire back was an angry fiery red, criss-crossed with raised welts.  No way would this fade in a couple of hours; it would be days before the skin returned to its usual state.  It hurt, and Kyle gripped the marble vanity, shaking with the intense pain as the endorphins wore off.

 

When he could move Kyle crossed the room to stiffly bend and pick up his shirt, eager to cover up the damage he had done to himself.  The shirt he had so readily stripped off was donned with a hiss of pain.  His mind was clearing far too fast for his liking; it was going to be impossible to hide this from Ben.  They always slept naked and Ben wouldn’t accept any excuse for not doing so.  Whimpering from a combination of soreness and remorse Kyle replaced the flogger in the box and once again stroked the lid for a few moments.  He gave a cry of pain when he lifted the box back into place, his abused shoulders stinging as he moved.

 

There was nothing left to do but wait for Ben.  The idea of running briefly flitted through Kyle’s panicked mind but he’d already done so much wrong tonight he just couldn’t make himself leave and let Ben worry.  So he remained, kneeling beside the bed and waiting.

 

“Kyle?”

 

Kyle winced, hearing first the door opening and Ben’s voice calling him.  He should have run when he had the chance he thought wildly.

 

“Here,” he managed to choke out.  Hearing Ben’s footfall of the stairs he lowered his head.

 

Ben’s face softened when he saw Kyle kneeling, obviously remorseful.  He laid a hand on top of Kyle’s bent head and said softly, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come when I said.”

 

That was too much, Ben apologizing when Kyle had been so disrespectful.  He made a sound of deep distress and Ben’s hand gently tipped his head up so he could see his face.  There was far more misery there than a simple act of disrespect could account for and Ben frowned.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Kyle shook his head, keeping his eyes carefully averted.  “I’m sorry,” he said wretchedly.  “Sorry for calling you that.”

 

“I know,” Ben said matter-of-factly.  “You were pretty upset.”

 

Kyle nodded but said emphatically, “That’s no excuse.”

 

“No,” said Ben.  “We don’t speak to each like that, do we?”

 

“No, sir,” Kyle answered.

 

Ben reached down to take one of Kyle’s hands in his, starting to draw him to his feet.  Kyle flinched hard in response to the movement of his shoulders as he started to rise and Ben tightened his grip on his hand as he stood up fully.  “What is it Kyle?” Ben asked sharply.

 

Mute, Kyle waited in dreadful anticipation as Ben unbuttoned his shirt.  As Ben carefully drew the shirt over his marked back Kyle heard the soft murmur of dismay, “Oh Kyle.”

 

It was all Kyle could do to keep from breaking into sobs but he stood quietly as Ben examined the damage.

 

“Why Kyle?”

 

That voice, full of sadness turned the knife of guilt inside his guts and Kyle had to bite his lip hard to keep from crying.  He finally said, “That’s what I deserve, for calling you that.”

 

“Do you decide what you deserve?” Ben asked severely.

 

“No, sir,” Kyle answered, his voice choked and small.

 

“Who decides on punishment?”

 

Ben’s voice hadn’t lost any of its sharpness and Kyle answered promptly, “You do, you decide.”

 

“That’s right.  Why don’t you decide?”

 

Ben wasn’t letting him off easily and Kyle struggled to keep answering his questions.  “Because….because I punish myself too harshly.”

 

Ben’s voice suddenly softened again, “Much too harshly.”  His fingers gently skimmed the inflamed skin of Kyle’s back before saying firmly, “I decide punishment in this house, not you.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Kyle conceded.

 

“Go and get me a padlock from the garage.”

 

Kyle looked at him, startled.

 

“If I can’t trust you having access to implements, I’ll keep them locked away.”

 

“For how long?” Kyle demanded.

 

“For as long as I decide,” Ben said sternly.  

 

Kyle belatedly realized that he’d questioned Ben’s authority far more than was acceptable and quickly went to do as he was told.  It was a horrible thought, that he couldn’t be trusted and Kyle’s face burned with shame.  He rummaged through the toolbox in the garage until he found a small padlock and key.

 

He slowly climbed the stairs again, the pain in his back almost forgotten in the reality of Ben’s disappointment with him.  When he reached the bedroom Ben had already taken the box down from the shelf and Kyle handed him the lock in silence.

 

“The playroom is off limits to you,” Ben said as he slipped the lock through the latch of the box.  “I’ll be locking it and both keys will be with me.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Kyle said unhappily.

 

“Now,” Ben said, fixing Kyle with a firm look.  “As to the matter of your disrespect.”

 

Kyle swallowed hard and took the hand that Ben held out to him, letting him lead him to the couch that stood against one wall of their bedroom.  He felt Ben’s hands on the waistband of his jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper.  Kyle’s heart thumped when his pants pooled around his ankles and Ben ordered, “Step out.”

 

He steadied himself with a hand on Ben’s solid shoulder and kicked off the constricting jeans.  His shorts quickly followed and he was naked and shivering in front of Ben.

 

Very carefully Ben guided Kyle across his knees, mindful of his sore back and settled him with his bare bottom under his hand.  He could feel how tense Kyle was, his body rigid and waiting.  Ben lifted his hand and brought it down sharply on the fullness of Kyle’s backside.   Again and again he swatted, Kyle crying out on the third resounding slap.  He gave into tears by the tenth and sobs by the twentieth and then Ben stopped, rubbing at the slightly reddened flesh.

 

Kyle lay crying hard, the spanking releasing the tears he had held in all evening.  The pain in his bottom was nothing to the throbbing of his shoulders but it had hurt far more.  But while the flogging he’d given himself hadn’t touched that terrible gnawing guilt in his gut, the simple spanking from Ben had vanquished it.

 

“Oh, baby,” Ben said sadly, again gently touching the seared skin of his back.  “You’re going to be sore for a while.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Kyle cried.  “I knew it was wrong.”

 

“It was wrong,” Ben said more firmly.  “And if you ever do that again, I’ll spank you every night for the rest of your life.”

 

Kyle gave a strangled laugh at the excessive threat but then shuddered at the thought.  He wasn’t chancing that Ben was kidding.