Vic went through his closet for the third time looking for his favorite white shirt. Coming up empty again, he decided to Benji's closet thinking maybe it got mixed up with his clothes. Nothing.
His brow creased as he tried to think where it may be. He hadn't checked the laundry room. It was Ben's week to do the laundry and Vic was beginning to suspect he would find his shirt still in the dryer, wrinkles firmly set. Laundry was one of Ben's least favorite household chores, not that he liked any of them. He preferred to sit around watching TV, playing video games or surfing the internet. He was currently hunched over the computer, avoiding the breakfast dishes for as long as Vic would let him.
Vic went into the laundry room and opened the dryer. As he suspected, it was packed, but with all towels. At least he's sorting the clothes now, Vic thought. But still, no white shirt.
He opened the washer and found it overfilled with wet clothes in every color of the rainbow. Darks, whites and colors all mixed together and crammed beyond capacity. The whites were actually former whites as they all now looked distinctly pink.
Vic picked through the wet clothes and found his formerly white shirt. "BENJAMIN DAVID MONROE, GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE, NOW!"
Vic's voice was at a pitch that easily carried into the office where Benji was at the computer. He sat bolt upright at the sound of Vic's voice. Uh oh. It did not sound good at all. He'd better get the dishes done.
"BENJAMIN, NOW!" Vic shouted again.
"Coming!" Ben yelled back and pushed away from the computer wondering what he had done. He followed in the direction of the voice and didn't find Vic in the kitchen. He saw the light on in the laundry room and started to understand why Vic might be so angry. He had not finished the laundry like he was supposed to. From the sound of it, Vic was none too happy about it either.
Ben came into the laundry room, his stomach dropping, as he saw Vic standing there and took in the look on his face. He was holding a wet, pink shirt out to Ben.
"Care to explain this?"
"I was going to finish..." Ben began, not remembering either of them having a pink shirt.
"How many times have I told you to separate the laundry properly?"
Oops. Maybe the shirt was not supposed to be pink.
"HOW many times, Benjamin?"
"Um...a lot...I guess," Ben replied.
"You guess? As many times as we've gone over this, you don't remember?"
"It was several times," Ben conceded.
"Come here."
Oh, no. Ben did not want to go to Vic. He was afraid he would get his butt swatted, but he was afraid not to obey since Vic looked so fretted.
He stepped over and Vic grabbed his arm. Ben's hand went to his bottom for protection but the expected swat did not come.
Vic turned him instead to face the washer, "Look in there and tell me what you see."
"Clothes...um, sir," Ben answered after peering into the washer.
"What kind of clothes?"
What KIND of clothes? Ben thought, not understanding what Vic meant. He said, "Just...clothes."
"What color group do you see represented?" Vic persisted.
Ben was nervous and as such, gave the wrong answer, "Pink?"
This time the swat did fall and was well placed. Ben gasped and reached back to rub the spot.
"Try again," Vic said.
"All of them are there," Ben tried, swallowing hard.
"That's right. Whites, darks and colors all in one place. IS that how we have discussed laundry is supposed to be done?"
"No, sir." Ben saw this conversation quickly disintegrating.
"How should it have been done?"
"I guess I was supposed to separate them?" Ben said, then pulled his bottom lip in, chewing on it nervously.
"I guess you were. But, since you did NOT separate them, every piece of white clothing in there is pink from the red shirt you threw into the mix."
"Sorry."
"Sorry is not going to make them white again, Benjamin. I have told you time and again not to mix the colors because this very thing could happen. Then, you crammed as many clothes in there as the machine would allow."
Ben wanted to crawl in the washing machine with the pink clothes and shut the lid. He peered back into the machine looking for answers, "But, Vic, they all fit..."
"That is not the point! Have I or have I not explained to you that the clothes do not get clean if you crowd the machine?"
"You have."
"How is filling it beyond capacity NOT crowding it?"
"I was just trying to get it done more efficiently and save on water..."
"You were thinking ONLY of getting it done in as few steps as possible so you wouldn't have to deal with it. You had no concern whatsoever of doing it right, or of conserving water for that matter."
"But, Viiccc..." Vic held up a hand to stifle the whine, and continued with his lecture.
"To top it all off, you didn't finish the laundry as you were supposed to three days ago. Even the towels are in a million wrinkles from laying in the dryer for days."
"I meant to come back and fluff them, I just forgot."
"Yes, you seem to be having trouble with your memory. I can see that. You can't remember to sort the laundry, you can't remember not to overfill the washer, you can't remember to finish the laundry. I'll bet if I checked the lint trap in the dryer, I'll find you forgot to clean it out as well."
Ben flushed, knowing he had not cleaned out the lint trap. He did not see what the big deal was. He had planned to clean it when he took out the last load, but he never made it back.
Reading his face like a book, Vic turned to the dryer and pulled out the lint trap. It clearly showed layers of lint rather than the sole fibers of the towels still in the dryer.
"Just as I thought. How many times have I told you that lint build up can cause fires?"
Ben had no idea, but the number probably rivaled that of the number of times they had discussed the proper way to sort laundry and not overfill the machine.
"A lot."
"Right, a lot. Talking about it is apparently not doing the trick. Benjamin, go to the kitchen and get the paddle. Then I want you to go to the bathroom and wait for me there."
Ben did not see the point in arguing. He was clearly in trouble after having ruined a good portion of their white clothes and not finishing the laundry. Then Vic had to check the _d_a_m_n_ lint trap. He moved slowly to the kitchen, Vic at his back.
"Hurry up, Benjamin," Vic prodded.
Ben did not want to hurry up. He knew he had earned a spanking, but he did not want to be paddled, especially not in the bathroom. It always seemed so much louder in there, both the swats and his crying.
He finally made it over to the cabinet drawer that housed the horrible paddle. He picked up the small rounded one and looked back at Vic questioning.
"That one will be fine." They had two paddles and Ben was not sure which one Vic had his heart set on. He took the paddle with him and headed to the downstairs bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Vic made him wait about 15 minutes while he got his temper in check. He always tried not to discipline Ben in anger. So many clothes ruined. It was such a waste and so unnecessary.
Vic made his way to the bathroom where his wayward lover waited for him. He understood the anxiety of waiting for a spanking. It was part of the punishment in Vic's mind. It also allowed the miscreant time to reflect on why he was about to get his tail toasted. In the minutes waiting for a spanking, it was about the only thing on the mind of the soon to be spanked.
Vic opened the door and found Ben sitting on the edge of the bathtub, obviously miserable. He had laid the paddle down on the counter.
Vic took a seat on the closed toilet, "Bring me the paddle."
Ben did not want to touch it, and he did not want it touching him. He knew he would have to do it, no matter what he wanted so he got up and picked up the paddle. He scuffled over to Vic, eyes down and held out the paddle to him.
Vic took it and laid it on the floor within reach. Then he concentrated his efforts on freeing Ben's bottom of any covering there. Ben's jeans and underwear were efficiently cleared out of Vic's way before he pulled Ben down over his knees. Vic's hard hand started coming down on Ben's rear powered by his strong right arm. Ben started to cry with the spanks raining down mercilessly.
"...I...said...OOOWWW...sorry..."
"You will learn one way or the other that I mean what I say. If I tell you to sort the clothes before washing them, then you sort the clothes. You will NOT ruin clothes again because you want to be done with the chore quicker," Vic lectured and spanked at the same time.
Vic was good at multi-tasking. He could easily spank Ben and lecture without missing a beat. Ben had no doubt that Vic could rub his stomach and pat his head with no problem if his ability to lecture and spank at the same time was any indication.
"Will I have any trouble out of you sorting the clothes properly from now on?" Vic asked, pausing the spanking for an answer.
"No...sir," Ben choked out around the tears.
"Just in case, you will have laundry duty for the next month so you get the practice you need to do it right."
A month! He HATED to do laundry every other week and now he was going to have to do it a whole MONTH?!
"And, if I catch you doing it wrong or cutting corners this month, I'll spank you again and add another month. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir..." Ben answered quickly, hoping it would mean a shorter spanking.
It didn't. Vic picked up the paddle and started spanking him again and did not stop until he had covered every part of Ben's bottom.
About 30 minutes later, Ben had calmed down. Vic led him back to the laundry room.
"Clean out the lint trap and fold the towels. Then salvage what you can out of the washer and separate the ruined clothes. When you're finished with the laundry, you and I are going to mall to shop for replacements."
"But, Vic. Me and Zach were going to the movies today," he sniffed.
"Not now, you're not. Get started. When you get to a stopping point you can call Zach and tell him your plans have changed."
With that, Vic left Ben to his chores. Ben continued to sniffle. He did not want to do the laundry and he really did not want to go shopping. Then, he had to call Zach. Zach would figure out he was in trouble and that was embarrassing.
He finally got through doing everything except wait for the load of clothes to dry. He walked into the kitchen, still red-faced and wet-eyed from being spanked. Vic was in the kitchen cleaning the dishes Ben should have done.
"You'll be doing all the dishes today by yourself since you didn't get these done. You need to call, Zach," Vic said from the sink.
"Vic can't I please go?" he pleaded. He hoped his red eyes would get him at least a little sympathy.
"Absolutely not. If I have to go buy clothes to replace the ones you ruined, you WILL come along for the ride." Vic walked over and picked up the cordless. He planted a kiss on Ben's cheek before handing him the phone.
Ben pouted but dialed the number and Nelson answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's me."
"Hi, me. Do you want to talk to Zach?"
"Yes, please."
Ben heard Nelson call Zach to the phone and mutter that it was Ben.
"Hey, Ben. You ready to go?"
"I can't go."
Ben's nose was still stuffy from crying. That coupled with the fact he couldn't go to the movies gave him away.
"Why can't you go? What did you do?" Zach asked.
"Never mind. Vic said 'no'."
"What did you do?" he asked again. "I know you did something. I can tell you've been crying." Nelson heard the exchange and quickly took the phone.
He looked warningly at his partner, then talking into the phone, he said, "Ben, it's Nelson again. Have you told Zach what you wanted to tell him?"
"Yes," he answered, thankful not to be subjected to Zach's questioning any longer.
"Ok, sweetie. I need to chat with Zach so we'll talk to you later, Ok?" Nelson clicked the phone off and glared at Zach.
"Do you like to go around discussing the details after you've been spanked?"
Zach's face turned red at the question. "No, sir."
"Then why would you press Ben like that?"
"I don't know."
"Would you like to get a spanking yourself to remind you how it feels?"
Sure, I was hoping youd ask, Zach thought, but said, "No, sir."
"You need to be more aware of other people's feelings, young man. If I ever catch you doing that to him again, I will spank you. Clear?"
"Yes, sir."
The next morning, Zach stumbled sleepily down the stairs and into the kitchen. Nelson was finishing up breakfast putting a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon down at Zach's place.
"Good morning, sweet pea."
"Mornin'," Zach replied, eyes still heavy.
"Still half asleep, huh?"
Zach mutely nodded as Nelson poured him a cup of coffee. He did not feel like going to classes today.
"I wish I could stay at home today."
"Why, are you not feeling well?" Nelson asked, automatically feeling his head whenever he thought Zach was sick.
"No, that's not it. I just want to crash. I don't feel like thinking today."
"That's not very productive," Nelson responded. "You know what IS productive?"
"What...?" Zach asked suspiciously, not at all interested in hearing Nelson's idea of productivity. He saw a project in his future.
"Yard work."
"Ugh! Nelson! Don't talk about yard work so earlllyyy!"
As much as Ben hated to do the laundry, Zach hated to do yard work.
Nelson smiled at his young lover, "It's going to be a beautiful day. The lawn needs tending and I won't get home until 6:30 tonight. By the time I get dinner ready and the dishes cleaned it will be too late to start. The weather is calling for rain tomorrow, so it needs to be done today."
"Nellsooonnn!" Zach managed whining in the morning with little effort. "Why can't we just hire someone to do the stupid yard?"
"We've been over this before, Zachary. You know how I feel about it."
Nelson felt that just because you could afford something, it did not mean you should spend the money. They had the lawn equipment and he saw no reason to pay someone to do something they could easily do themselves.
"But I HATE yard work! Please can't we hire someone?"
"I know you don't like it, Zach. But, we are NOT hiring someone to cut the grass. And you know I rarely don't help you with it."
That was true. About the only time Zach was left to do the lawn alone was when he was being punished for something.
"You get out of school at 3:00 today so you will have plenty of time to get it done," Nelson continued. "Eat your breakfast."
Zach huffed and picked up his fork. What a bad Monday this was starting to be.
Zach met Ben for lunch at the college cafeteria as was their usual custom.
"How was your weekend?" Ben asked.
"Fine. Today's been _s_h_i_t_ty, but the weekend was good. Are you going to tell me why you got your ass spanked yesterday?"
"I didn't sort the laundry before I washed it and I kinda ruined the whites."
"Ouch. How's the seat today?"
"A little sore."
"What did he use on you?"
"I'm not giving you a play by play, asshole."
"Sorry."
"Why are you having a bad day?" Ben asked, changing the subject.
"Nelson's making me cut the _f_u_c_k_ing grass this afternoon."
"So?"
"I HATE to cut the grass. I can't get Nelson to let me hire someone to do it."
Benji didn't see the big deal, "We cut our own grass."
"I just hate it."
"You could sneak and hire someone. Nelson wouldn't know if they do it before he gets home."
Zach slowly raised up with a smile playing on his lips. "You are an enabler. That's a great idea! Most of our neighbors work during the day so they couldn't rat me out."
"Wanna go find a phone book?" the enabler asked.
"Oh, yeah. I hope I can find someone to do it today."
The boys headed over to the pay phone in the cafeteria and started thumbing through the yellow pages jotting down several numbers. Zach pulled out his cell and started making calls.
None of them could cut the grass that day since it was the last minute. The best Zach could find was a group that could cut the grass on Wednesday. He made the arrangements then he and Ben began to work on an excuse that Nelson would buy for why the grass was not cut today.
"I'm not sure we'll think of anything that will save your butt today. Vic wouldn't accept any excuse short death I don't think."
"There's got to be something," Zach said. He thought carefully.
"Hey, maybe you could tell him you're sick."
"He thought I may be coming down with something this morning, but I don't know if I want him thinking I'm sick." Zach knew Nelson would remand him to bed if he thought he was sick. Zach was not sure he wanted that either.
"Can you make yourself throw up?"
"I'm not doing that!" Zach exclaimed, appalled.
"Why don't you just tell him you threw up? He won't know you really didn't," Ben suggested.
"I don't know..." Zach was beginning to think he should just give up and cut the grass.
"_s_h_i_t_. It's less work to cut the _d_a_m_n_ grass than to get out of it," Zach complained.
After class, Zach headed for home. It was sooooo hot. He had absolutely no desire to cut the grass, especially not in this heat. They had a riding mower but the trim still had to be done. If there was anything he hated worse than cutting the grass it was weed eating.
He may as well get started. He went in the house and changed into some comfortable shorts. It was too hot for a shirt. He took his time and stopped at the fridge for a swig of coke.
While in the kitchen, he noticed the dishes in the sink. He supposed he should clean them up. It would not take all that long and the grass could wait. When it came to grass, Zach would do just about anything to avoid the chore.
He busied himself with the dishes switching on the television to keep him company. Hmmm, he noticed the floor needed mopping as well. It would not take that long. He had plenty of time before Nelson came home, plus it should be getting cooler outside.
Of course, he could not mop until he vacuumed the floor. Well, maybe just sweeping would be enough. He finished the mopping and plopped down in the living room waiting for the floor to dry. He got caught up in the Will & Grace Seinfeld hour and before he knew it, it was after 5:30.
Crap! He jumped up and dashed outside to start the yard. Nelson would be home all too quickly. Zach realized he may really have to come up with an excuse after all.
He fired up the riding mower and popped it into the highest gear he dared without fear of turning over the machine. Nelson would freak. He insisted that Zach never cut in any gear higher than third. They had several hills in their yard and Nelson knew the higher the gear, the less control, and the more likely to turn the mower over.
Zach did not have time to worry about control. Speed was what he needed and speed was what he had. He quickly finished passing over the front yard and rolled into the back at top speed.
He did not hear Nelson pull into the driveway over the noise of the mower. Just as Nelson pulled in, he saw Zach go whizzing down the hill in the backyard, his back to the driveway. Zach never saw Nelson, until it was to late.
Nelson did not even wait to pull into the garage. His heart nearly stopped when he saw how fast Zach was mowing. He stopped the car in the drive and nearly ran to the back yard.
By this time, Zach was speeding up the hill and saw Nelson for the first time. He immediately hit the clutch and dropped the gear down to third.
Nelson had his hands on his hips pushing back the flaps of his suit coat, brow creased, lips pursed. When Zach looked back up from changing gears, Nelson still had one hand on his hip, but the other pointed first at Zach, then to the ground in front of him.
That was Nelson's sign language for "get your ass over here NOW". Zach interpreted the message and rolled the mower steadily up the hill to where Nelson was standing. He stopped the mower and turned off the engine continuing to sit on the mower to keep his behind protected. Nelson didn't look at all happy.
Nelson snapped his fingers and pointed again at the grass in front of him. That meant "I SAID get your ass over here".
Zach slinked off the mower and went to stand in the vicinity of where Nelson continued to point, but not close enough for Nelson to reach him. He did not want to risk getting his butt swatted in the yard.
"Nelson, you're home early," Zach tried some light conversation.
Nelson was not in the mood for light conversation, "What gear were you cutting in, young man?"
"Third?" Zach responded. It was not really a lie, because he was in third just seconds ago.
"I mean BEFORE you saw me standing here?"
_s_h_i_t_! Zach did not want to answer. He just wanted to crawl under something and hide from Nelson's blue eyes. Zach's eyes went to the ground and watched a bug crawling through the grass. What kind of bug is that? Zach had never seen anything like it...
"ZACHARY ADAM BARTHOLOMEW! Look at me and answer the question!"
Zach jumped. He was in real trouble. Nelson often used his first and middle names, but when he threw in the last name as well, he knew he was in for it. He had better just answer the question and get on with it...WHACK!
Before he could answer Nelson had stepped into the space Zach so cautiously put between them. He turned Zach around and popped his ass a good one.
"FIFTH GEAR! I was cutting in fifth." Zach quickly answered, rubbing the sting from his bottom.
"Fifth gear?! Fifth gear!! There are only six gears on that mower. What in the world were you thinking?"
"Just that I had to hurry up before you got home."
"Zachary, I could have come home to a very injured partner, do you think I would want that?"
Zach thought he was going to be an injured partner anyway so what did it matter? "No, sir."
"I have told you time and again not to mow in any gear higher than what?"
"...third..."
"If you knew that, then why were you in fifth?"
"I had to hurry up!"
"Why, Zach? You got out of school at 3:00. Why were you just mowing at 5:45?"
"I was working INSIDE the house, Nelson! I wasn't just sitting around with my thumb up my ass!"
Nelson decided that comment was worth another two swats to Zach's behind, again out in the backyard. Zach desperately wanted to move this conversation inside before Nelson found a reason to whack him again. He glanced next door hoping the neighbors weren't around. He didn't see anyone.
"Get your butt in the house and find yourself a corner in the bedroom."
Thank God - I think, Zach thought. He really didn't want to put on a show for the neighbors.
Zach scurried into the house with Nelson hot on his heels. He moved quickly and up the stairs putting plenty of distance between him and Nelson.
He faced the corner and laid his head against the wall. He could not believe he had earned himself a spanking by actually doing as he was told. He would have been better off to try the "I'm sick" excuse and not cut the grass at all.
Several years later - or was it seconds? - Nelson came into the room taking off his jacket. He rolled his sleeves up then positioned himself on the edge of the bed and called to Zach, "Come here, Zachary."
Zach went to Nelson again staying out of his reach.
"I said come here, young man," Nelson repeated holding out his hand.
Zach expected to be yanked down across Nelson's lap so he pulled against Nelson's grip as he took Zach's hand to draw him closer. Instead of going across Nelson's knees, he pulled Zach into his lap.
"Do you know how much you scared me, Zach?"
Zach pulled back and looked at Nelson brows raised in a question. "No?"
"I have told you over and over not to mow in high gear. Do you think I told you that just to be mean? Just to add another rule?"
"I don't know...I guess not..."
"I told you that because speeding over a yard like ours is dangerous in high gear, Zachary."
"I had to get it done, though. You were going to be home in an hour and I hadn't even started," Zach explained.
"What time did I tell you to have the yard finished?"
Zach's brain flipped through its unseen filing cabinets for the answer. The drawers were empty. "I can't remember."
"That's because I never said WHEN you had to finish. I just said it had to be done tonight. It didn't have to be done before I got home, Zach."
Well, _s_h_i_t_. He rushed and got his ass into trouble for nothing.
"Regardless, I have told you many times not to mow in any gear higher than third and you disobeyed me, didn't you?"
"Nelllsssoonnn," Zach whined, turning eyes to Nelson that were beginning to tear. It did not phase Nelson and he helped Zach up, then patted his lap, indicating for Zach to lay over it. Zach lowered himself into position.
Zach felt his shorts and underpants slide off his hips and stop at mid-thigh. He felt especially naked with no shirt on and his pants down. His stomach fluttered when Nelson clamped his arm around Zach's middle, anchoring him firmly in place.
His hand began banging out yet another message in sign language. Its message was easily interpreted by Zach. He would never, ever cut in any gear except third again as long as he lived.
He was quickly crying as Nelson expertly covered Zach's bottom delivering a sound spanking, not even pausing for all Zach's pleas for him to stop.
"You'd better not EVER let me catch you dangerously mowing again. I will not hesitate to blister your behind when you put yourself in danger. Is that understood?" Nelson decided to interpret the sign language for Zach just in case he did not get the message. Both the verbal and the signed messages were being delivered simultaneously, the verbal one being reinforced by the signed one.
Zach heard them both and managed a "yes, sir" around the sobs. Nelson continued to rain down spanks on Zach's bottom until the color told him Zach was punished enough.
By the time he stopped, Zach was bawling. Nelson rubbed his bare back trying to calm him down. "It's Ok, sweetie. It's over. Don't cry, baby."
Zach never understood why Nelson would tear his ass up and bring him to tears, then tell him "don't cry". Nelson never stopped spanking him until he was in tears, and typically, not for a while after the tears started.
He finally got himself under control and Nelson lifted him up back into his lap. His flaming bottom was sticking out over Nelson's lap as Nelson was careful not to sit him on his butt.
"Will I have to worry about you cutting grass like that again?"
Through the hiccups and sniffles, Zach answered, "No, sir."
"I'm glad to hear it. You're going to be responsible for the yard for a month as further punishment."
"NELSON! You know I hate to cut the grass!" Zach sobbed.
"Do you think a month is too short?"
"NO! A month is fine," Zach quickly said before this got any worse.
Then Zach said, "You know, if you would just hire someone to do it, this wouldn't have happened."
"No, if you hadn't cut in fifth gear, this wouldn't have happened." Nelson said, dismissing the comment and standing Zach on his feet.
"Pull your pants up, sweat pea." Zach bent over and very gently pulled his pants up. The grimace on his face was obvious as his shorts passed by his battered butt.
"You still need to finish what you started, Zach."
Zach nodded his head but did not want to think about bumping around on a mower with the soreness in his behind. At least it would not bump as badly in a lower gear.
The next day, Ben was anxious to see how Zach made out the night before.
"So, what excuse did you give Nelson last night for not cutting the grass?" Benji asked when he saw Zach.
"I didn't. I decided to do it myself and not risk getting spanked. Then I got my ass beat anyway."
"What did you do?"
"Nelson caught me running the mower too fast and thought he should let me know he didn't appreciate it. Now, I have to do the _f_u_c_k_ing grass for a month."
Ben thought about his laundry duty and figured a month must be the standard punishment necessary for brats to learn the proper way to do their chores.
"That sucks, man."
"Tell me about it," Zach agreed.
"Hey, you gotta cancel those yard guys for tomorrow."
Zach had forgotten all about them. He picked up the cell and found them in his address book. The phone began to ring on the other end and the receptionist answered sweetly.
"Yeah, I need to cancel for tomorrow? This is Zach Bartholomew."
"Sure, Mr. Bartholomew. I can do that for you. Would you like to reschedule?"
Hmm. Of course, he would. "Uh, yeah. That would be great. Can you come out next week?"
Ben looked up at Zach eyes widening when he heard what Zach said, mouth dropping open.
"Sure, Monday would be great," Zach said then disconnected the call.
"WHAT are you doing, dumb ass?"
"NOT the lawn."
"Are you crazy? If Nelson finds out..."
"He won't. Keep your trap shut about it, Benji."
"I'm not telling, but that doesn't mean he won't find out. If he's punishing you with yard work and you get busted..."
Zach shook his head dismissing Ben's warning. He didn't want to think of the consequences unless he had to. And, there wouldn't be any if he didn't get caught.
He came home Monday afternoon and was pleasantly surprised at the appearance of the lawn. He picked a good company to handle it. They had expertly trimmed and manicured the lawn to perfection. Nelson would be pleased, unless he ever found out Zach was not the one who cut the grass.
Zach started to feel a little nervous at the prospect of Nelson ever finding out. It would not be good.
Nelson came home that night and was impressed at what he saw. He fully expected Zach to do his lawn work half-way since he was having to do it as punishment. Nelson was more than a little glad he would not be dealing with that tonight.
He went into the house and found Zach in front of the television fully focused on his Playstation.
"Hi, sweet pea. Great job on the lawn, baby," Nelson said bending down to kiss the top of Zach's head.
Zach continued to play but felt a slight flush touch his cheeks ignited from guilt. "Thanks."
"What do you want for dinner?"
Zach paused his game to look at his lover. "How about pizza?"
"I'll call and order one. Why don't you shower while we wait? Or did you take one after cutting the grass?" Nelson asked, noticing Zach wasn't in his classic yard work attire.
Oops, he hadn't thought about the fact he was not wearing old clothes.
"Uh, no. I just changed clothes. I'll take a shower."
Maybe it would wash away some of the guilt he was feeling for deceiving and disobeying Nelson.
Nelson ordered the pizza then headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable. He was just pulling on his shirt when the phone rang. He started not to answer when he saw "Central Lawn Care" flash up on the caller ID. He hated dealing with telemarketers.
He answered anyway, ready to tell them he was not interested and to take them off the call list.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Bartholomew? I'm calling to see if you were happy with the work we did today?"
Nelson's blood pressure was rising as his confusion turned to understanding when he began to put two and two together.
"No, this isn't Mr. Bartholomew. Is there something I could help you with?"
"Well, we came out and trimmed your lawn today. I was just following up to see that everything was done to your satisfaction."
"Yes, it was a fine job." Better than he had ever seen Zach do, he thought. It should have clued him in.
"If you're pleased I'd like to talk to you about a contract for the summer," the salesman continued.
"I'm afraid not. Mr. Bartholomew just felt he needed the lawn done this week. He'll be taking care of it for a while."
He hung up and pulled on his jeans then went immediately downstairs to the kitchen. He retrieved the paddle from the top of the refrigerator and went back upstairs to the bedroom. Zach was coming out of the master bathroom wearing nothing but his boxers, towelling his hair. He had not heard Nelson come in.
"Feel better? I'm sure that shower helped after all the work you did outside today," Nelson asked from the doorway.
Zach looked through wet strands of hair at his partner, eyes widening when he saw the paddle in his hands. His stomach twisted at the combination of the look on Nelson's face and the _d_a_m_n_ paddle in his hands.
"Yeah. I mean yes, sir. I feel ok."
"Do you feel at all guilty for lying to me and disobeying me by getting someone else to cut the grass?"
Zach's stomach flip flopped as his nerves kicked in and his brain told him he was found out.
"How did you...I don't understand..."
"Central Lawn Care just called to see how you liked their work."
"Oh." That was not good, not good at all.
"I'm going to paddle your butt good, young man. Not only did you disobey me by hiring someone after I've repeatedly told you no, but you led me to believe you cut the grass yourself. In my book, that's lying and I won't have it."
Sure I did, Zach thought. He certainly could not tell Nelson the truth.
"On top of all that, you knew you were supposed to cut the grass as punishment for last week's little episode."
"I'm sorry, Nelson. I won't do it again. Really..."
"You'd better not ever."
Nelson jumped into action moving swiftly across the room toward the bed and snagging his prey deftly along the way. Zach felt himself being pulled along ever closer to the consequences for his actions.
Why couldn't he have just cut the stupid grass? This was the second time in a week the _d_a_m_n_ grass got his ass in a sling. As a matter of fact, the first time Nelson ever spanked him was because of the _f_u_c_k_ing grass.
Not long after he moved in with Nelson, he had put off cutting the grass for two days after Nelson had told him to do it. On the third day, Nelson told him calmly at breakfast that if the grass was not cut by the time he got home, he would put Zach across his lap and spank him.
Zach had been shocked. There was NO way he was going to let Nelson SPANK him. He had not been spanked since he was about eight years old and did not intend to start that habit again. Nelson would just have to learn he could not push Zach around. Zach intentionally left the grass uncut to prove his point. Then Nelson came home and proved HIS point on Zach's behind just like he promised. Zach cut the grass the next day without argument.
And now, he was getting his buns tanned once again for the grass. _d_a_m_n_ it. He just wanted to mulch the whole yard and be done with it.
Nelson pulled him down across his knees and pushed his shorts down. Zach's butt was in the air fully exposed for Nelson to spank. It was still slightly damp which meant this was going to really sting.
Nelson started spanking Zach's tender bottom quickly turning it pink then a darker red. He covered Zach's bottom several times before stopping to pick up the paddle. Zach was crying hard just from the hand spanking.
Nelson let Zach calm down some before he started bringing down the paddle. Just as Zach was beginning to recover his breath, the paddle came down, hard. Nelson continued to cover his partner's cheeks.
Zach howled and wiggled in vain, trying to protect his backside. He finally gave up and lay there, waiting for Nelson to finish. It ended just as Zach thought he could not take another lick.
Nelson gathered him up and embraced him tenderly rubbing Zach's back. After several minutes, Zach began to calm somewhat and Nelson led him to his corner, pants still down around his ankles from all the kicking. Zach shuffled over against his restraints.
Corner time was bad enough before a spanking but Zach hated it even more when Nelson made him stand there with his fire engine red bottom on display. After about 30 minutes. Nelson came back to the bedroom and went to Zach in the corner.
He laid his hand on Zach's shoulder, "Ready to come out?"
Still sniffling, Zach nodded his head and muttered, "Yes, sir."
"Come on then, pull up your pants."
Zach may not like having his butt on display, but he wasn't too crazy about putting his shorts back on over his sore bottom either. He tenderly slid them up to cover his flaming backside.
Nelson put his arms around Zach again and Zach said into his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Nelson. I just hate to cut the grass. Then I couldn't tell you because you said I couldn't hire someone."
"I know, baby. It's over now. We've dealt with that."
He silently held Zach listening to him sniffle. His face was a mess.
"Come on, let's get your face cleaned up."
Zach let Nelson take him to the bathroom and wash his face with a washcloth. Feeling much better and absolved, he said, "They did do a good job, didn't they Nelson?"
"Don't even think about it, Zach. The lawn is all yours for the next six weeks. I'm adding on two weeks to make up for this one."
Zach sounded like he had a slow leak by the time he cut off the long sigh intended to get Nelson's attention. He added a pout to his mouth.
It worked, but not the way Zach intended. "Would you rather make it two months?"
"No, sir."
Nelson kissed Zach's forehead, "Brat."
Zach halfway smiled at him, "Top."
Zach was sure by the end of six weeks, he'd be a pro at yard work. Maybe he would learn to like it.
Yeah, right.
The end.