Clean Slate


by Jnick (Click for Author's Home Page)<Julnick@aol.com>

David's head jerked up once more, the professor was still droning on. It was stuffy and hot in the lecture hall, and keeping his eyes open was more than his grade was worth. He glanced at his watch. Only ten minutes left. The mile-long walk home would invigorate him. He really tried to stay awake, but the minutes dragged by, and his head drooped again. Finally, a stir of activity aroused him. He shoved his books into his pack and followed the throng of students out of the hall. As he trotted down the front steps of the old, stone building, he heard the honk of a horn. Squinting against the bright afternoon sunlight, David spotted Mark sitting in the car in the loading zone in front of the building.

David rushed down the steps and climbed into the car settling in as Mark pulled out into traffic. "What are you doing here?" David asked. Mark usually worked until five leaving David two hours at home to himself every afternoon.

"I took the day off, I was out, I thought I'd pick you up," he said amicably, weaving in and out of the lanes. "How was class?"

"Fine."

"No problems?"

"No, why?"

Mark shrugged and changed lanes again. "You been keeping your grades up?"

David looked at him, "Yeah, sure... Why are you asking me this?"

Mark reached onto the dashboard and grabbed an envelope which he handed to David. "That was in the mail this morning." David looked at the envelope it was addressed to him and it had been opened.

"You opened my mail?" He asked, letting only a hint of accusation slip into his tone. Mark gave him a hard look.

"Its from the Dean." Suddenly, David's blood ran cold. He fumbled to extract the letter as Mark continued. "It says you're being put on academic suspension. And you are in danger of losing your scholarship." David felt sick as he read the letter confirming Mark's words. "We can't afford this school if you lose your scholarship. Not on my salary alone."

"It must be a mistake..." David whispered, desperately hoping to placate Mark long enough for him to go appeal to his professors. He was already telling himself how much harder he'd work...

"Hm." Mark turned onto their street and slowed down as they drove under a canopy of leaves. "I thought of that." David's hope dwindled... "I called the Dean this morning." And died... "What happened to all those nights of 'No, I don't have any homework.' 'No, I don't need to study.'? What about all those exams that you 'aced'?" David was trembling he was caught. "I even talked to a couple of your professors."

"I'm sorry Mark, I don't know what happened. It just got out of control, and I didn't want to disappoint you..." He felt he was on the verge of tears and fought them back.

They pulled up to the house, but instead of stopping in the driveway like he usually did, Mark hit the remote for the garage door and pulled the car into the garage. David searched his partner's face, but he couldn't read it. Mark didn't look angry. He didn't sound angry. But, David couldn't quell the horrible feeling that he was in very very serious trouble.

The garage door ground shut again leaving only the dim parking light on. Mark stepped out of the car and went to turn on the bright overhead lights, leaving David alone and uncertain. Timidly, he opened his door. Mark came back and took his backpack from him. "Get out," he said calmly carrying the pack to the workbench.

David stood and closed his door feeling as if an entire herd of butterflies were flapping around in his stomach. When Mark turned around, David's breath caught in his throat. Hanging loosely in Mark's right hand was the paddle. It was a bit shorter and a bit wider than a frat paddle. About half an inch thick and made of maple, it was stained a dark golden brown and lacquered, making the light glint evilly off of its surface. On contact, it burned like the fires of hell and then left a deep ache that lingered for days afterwards. Just the sight of it now made David's knees go weak and his stomach knot up. "Drop 'em and over the hood," Mark said. His tone was still calm and even, but David didn't even think of arguing.

With trembling fingers he managed to unbuckle his belt then his pants. As he unzipped his fly, he felt his face growing hot with shame and embarrassment. Of course, Mark had seen him naked hundreds of times, but it was always different when he was getting a licking.

Blinking back tears, he pushed his jeans down to his ankles and turned to face the hood of the car before hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and dragging them down as well. He pulled his T-shirt up well above his waist, and slowly lowered his upper body onto the still-warm metal. It felt strange against the bare skin of his stomach. Smooth, hard and unforgiving. He heard Mark's footsteps approach him and felt his feet gently kicked wider apart. He tried to cooperate as best he could with the restricting denim around his ankles. He straightened his legs obediently flushing again as he pictured himself, half-naked, ass thrust out, waiting for the punishing kiss of wood. For a crazy, desperate moment he hoped that Mark would forget about spanking him and just _f_u_c_k_ him. But then the crack of wood on skin filled the room, and David yelped, caught off-guard by the stinging blow.

"What is wrong with you?" Mark demanded, he sounded a little more angry now... The paddle cracked again and David gritted his teeth, determined to take his punishment like a man. "Four D's??" Crack... "And you're failing POTTERY??" Crack... Crack...

The paddle seared across his ass again and again, and the angry scolding burned into his heart. David squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his hands in beneath his chest. "I'm sorry... Ow!" He gasped.

"You are better than this, David." Crack... Crack... Crack... "You could be pulling A's at that school if you wanted to." The pain was terrible, and the shame at what he'd done and guilt over disappointing Mark were almost overwhelming.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." He choked out, struggling to keep his legs straight, to take the licking he knew he deserved.

"You got a _f_u_c_k_ing 32 on your ACT! I *know* how smart you are, boy." Crack... Crack... Crack... "You think you can come home every night and not do your homework, not study for your tests and still tell me you're getting A's? I may not be as smart as you are, but I'm not that dumb."

The paddle burned, the words cut painfully. David felt tears begin to leak out of his tightly closed eyes. "You've worked hard to get where you are." The paddle struck the very top of his thigh, and he cried out at the sudden bright pain. Barely stopping himself from stamping his foot, he gasped, desperately trying to gain an upper hand on his emotions. "And I'm working hard to pay for you to stay there."

It hurt. It hurt so very much. David was wheezing and rocking slightly. The tears were coming steadily now. He tried to apologize, but he choked on his words. "Don't you dare throw your life away."

Another three smacks that felt harder than ever, and David began to sob. His hands, which he balled into fists relaxed, he let his head fall forward until his forehead was resting on the cool metal of the hood. The licking stopped, but his ass hurt so bad he felt like he'd been sitting on a hot stove. He knew he couldn't walk, or even stand up. He just stayed where he was letting the hood of the car support his weight and crying out all the fear and shame and guilt of a boy who'd dug himself a hole too deep to get out.

He felt Mark's hand on his shoulder pulling him to his feet and turning him around. He yelped as Mark pushed him against the side of the car, and his butt touched the hard metal. Mark grabbed David roughly by the jaw and looked him in the eyes. "I talked the Dean into giving you a second chance." Relief came over David in a rush. He felt as if he'd been suddenly washed of all his sins. "Don't _f_u_c_k_ it up."

"No! I won't!" He said earnestly, tears still trickling down his face and sniffling pathetically.

Mark regarded him for another long moment before leaning towards him and kissing him lightly. David blinked in surprise as Mark dropped his hand and gave him a sly look. "You're so cute when you cry."

David managed a weak smile.

"Get dressed." Mark ordered, going back to the workbench with the paddle.

David wiped his face with the palm of his hand and gingerly pulled up his pants, cringing. He wore his jeans loose, but right now it felt like they were skin tight and rough as sandpaper. Just as he finished buckling his belt, Mark returned, carrying David's backpack which he handed to the still sniffling young man. "Now, don't you have some studying to do?"

David sat, squirming, on the hard wooden chair, his books spread out on the kitchen table. His butt was throbbing incessantly, making it difficult to concentrate, but somehow he was more motivated than he'd been since the beginning of the semester. He realized how helpless he'd been feeling before. Once he'd gotten behind, he didn't know how to catch up and he'd given up. But now, he'd been given a completely fresh start. He knew now that college wasn't like high school. But he could do it. As he studied the molecule diagram in his book, he winced at a twinge in his seat. It was going to cost him a little more... but he would pay his dues, with his time, his energy, his dedication and (he knew) quite often, the seat of his pants, but he would do it. He'd make Mark proud and maybe himself, too.


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