Truth or Consequences
Author: Amy

Sixteen-year-old Taylor Hanson was sprawled face down across his
mother’s knees, his face burrowed into his bed covers, bunches of it
crushed in his fists, while his bare bottom was spanked for all it was
worth. His mother was furious, and she had every right to be; he’d not
only deliberately disobeyed her, but he’d lied about it right to her
face, and he was really sorry — now.

Earlier that day, when the family was all gathered in the kitchen for
lunch, his father had once again started grilling him about the status
of his schoolwork. Taylor had been procrastinating for weeks – months
really — and he had several important assignments way past due now. His
parents had clearly had it up to here with him. His brother Zac was
younger by nearly 2 ½ years and had practically caught up with him in
his lessons. Still, Taylor couldn’t face the significance of his
irresponsibility at the moment, so when his father brought it up he’d
gotten rather snippy about it — bad choice — saying sharply that
everything was fine, he was caught up. His father, knowing full well
what was going on and growing angrier by the second, called his bluff,
asking to see a particular report that was due in two days. The look on
Taylor’s face clearly gave him away and his father wasted no time. He
ordered him to “stand up!” Taylor knew exactly what that meant – he was
going to get a spanking. He panicked, looking at his mother for support
— she’d been a bit more of an ally in his struggle. He breathed a sigh
of relief when he saw her motion to his dad that she would handle this
because he was too angry right then, but a moment later his heart sunk
as he watched her reach for the kitchen paddle. “Do as you father said!”
she ordered.

Taylor shoved his chair back angrily, another bad choice, and out of the
corner of his eye he saw his father tighten every muscle in his body.
His blood was pounding so loud in his ears that he could barely think,
and he was doing everything he could not to catch anyone’s eyes. His
mother ordered him to place his palms on the table. He was confused by
that as she hadn’t even asked him to take his pants down yet, but when
he hesitated she barked, “Now!” and he quickly leaned over and did as he
was told.

His mother gave him six stinging spanks with the paddle, enough to leave
him gasping and stunned. Then she grounded him to his room and ordered
him to finish his homework – or else. He knew well what the “or else”
meant but he was too angry to care. He left the kitchen without looking
back, already planning his revenge.

As soon as his parents had left for the day he’d called his friend Mark
and made other plans. He’d arrived back home several hours later, just
in time to perch himself in front of his computer and look obediently
studious when his folks returned. When his mother peeked in and asked
how he was doing on the report, he’d just smiled innocently at her and
said he’d almost finished it. She believed him. She really didn’t think
for a minute that he would lie right to her face again. He breathed a
huge sigh of relief, but underneath his stomach churned sickly.

Zac had watched it all from his vantage point on his bed. He knew the
truth. His brother was lying through his teeth and Zac was shocked, and
disgusted. As soon as the door shut he hissed at Tay. Taylor spun
around glaring, ashamed but defensive. “What?” he asked
confrontationally. Zac just shook his head. “Fuck you,” Tay said.

“Nice Tay, real nice!”

“What’s it matter to you?” Tay sneered. “Fuck off.” He didn’t usually
treat Zac so meanly, but he was well beyond being reasonable at this
point. He was in way too deep. Truth be told, he was getting really
nervous; he was weaving a very tangled web and he knew it. There was
also the fact that he was actually kind of jealous and resentful of his
younger brother’s intellectual superiority and right now this
situation was rubbing his nose in it.

“You’re an asshole. And a liar!” Zac stated matter-of-factly. “Is that
what you want to be?”

Tay turned away and pretended to be typing something into his report. He
was seething inside. Zac was right, of course, and he was feeling like
the worst sort of hypocrite. He was always talking about honesty,
integrity and truth being the most important values one could have and
he’d blatantly defied them all. Zac was just calling him on his shit –
shit he was well aware of but not ready to admit to quite yet.

He typed furiously, trying to put his pent up emotions to good use, but
he was typing gobbledygook because he hadn’t done any of the necessary
research. He was screwed and he knew it. He opened a book and began to
do the work he should have done days ago. It was too late though, there
was no way to catch up in time to submit it by the deadline, and the
disappointed noises his brother kept making were more than distracting.

When Ike, his older brother, came into their bedroom, he immediately
felt the tension in the room, sensing both Zac’s disapproval and Tay’s
discomfort. The boys hadn’t spent nearly every waking moment of their
lives together for naught. “What’s up?” he asked. He’d been gone since
early in the day so hadn’t been in on the lunchtime incident.

Tay just groaned. Zac rolled his eyes, shook his head sadly and said,
“Taylor’s a jerk.”

Ike was confused, and concerned. “Tay, what’s the deal man? What are you
doing?”

“Nothing! Just leave me the hell alone. Both of you!” he snapped.

Ike flinched. He looked at Zac in shock. That was just not the way the
brothers talked to each other; Tay must be really stressed. Ike walked
over to his brother, put his hand on his shoulder gently, and turned him
around to face him. “What’s going on, man? Tell me. C’mon, Tay, tell me.”

Tay shook his brother off his shoulder and turned back to his work.

Zac sighed angrily. “He was grounded and supposed to be working on that
report all day, but as soon as Mom and Dad left he took off to Mark’s.
He got home just before they did, and when Mom came in to check on him
he lied right to her face. Told her he’d almost finished. Acted like
he’d been at it all day. Jerk!”

Ike groaned. “Ohhh, Tay,” he said sadly. Taylor tightened his lips and
forced himself not to respond. He knew he was totally in the wrong and
anything he said to the contrary would just further damage his moral
fiber, which was already tissue paper thin. The knot in his stomach
tightened.

A few uncomfortably silent moments later there was a loud knock at the
door and suddenly both of their parents appeared. By the looks on their
faces something was up, and it was bad. A jolt of adrenalin set Taylor’s
whole body vibrating.

His mother stared him right in the face. “Taylor,” she said, “Mark’s
mother just called. Apparently, you left your new leather jacket over
there this afternoon!” Oh my god, Taylor screamed silently, how could he
have been so stupid? Did he want to get caught? Jesus Christ. He
deserved everything he was about to get, and it was going to be a lot!
It was then that he noticed the hairbrush his father was holding.

“Stand up, young man!” his mother ordered. Taylor slowly rose, nearly
deafened by the loud pounding of his pulse. “I want you to tell me what
you did today. Did you leave this house?”

He swallowed hard, his throat so tight it felt like it might tear. “I …
um … .” He winced, hoping he looked sufficiently contrite so that he
wouldn’t have to continue.

“You what?” his father demanded. He was more than furious. He’d wanted
Taylor spanked properly this morning, but had deferred to his wife’s
attempts to delay things a bit and give him one more chance. Taylor had
blown it completely though, and now his father was done giving him any more
room. Tay cringed at the anger in his voice; he dropped his gaze and
fidgeted under their stares. He could feel his brothers’ eyes on him
too, and he was deeply ashamed. “You better start talking young man or
you’ll only make this worse for yourself.”

“I … um … went over to Mark’s for a few hours,” he mumbled. “I’m …
sorry. I … I really am. I know I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t allowed to. I
was grounded and supposed to be working on this report. I’m … I’m … sorry.”

“So, ARE you almost finished, like you told me?” his mother asked
accusingly, still holding out some hope that he hadn’t completely let
her down.

Tay shuddered, then shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“I can’t hear you. What did you say?” his mother needled.

“No … ma’am. I … I’ve barely started.”

There was a gasp, then silence, then a deep sigh. “So, you not only
deliberately disobeyed, but you lied about it?” his father stated
coldly. His words hit Taylor like a punch in the gut; those were two of
the worst things you could do in their house and he’d been in total
denial. Tay definitely did not want to answer such an incriminating
question. He shifted from foot to foot trying to find a stance that
offered some shred of power or control. It was hopeless. “Taylor!” his
father’s voice rocked him. “You had better answer me now!”

“Yeeesss, sir,” he muttered, wiping his sweaty palms on the sides of his
jeans, a sure sign he was a goner.

“Yes sir what!” his father bellowed, growing increasingly tired of this
game.

Taylor knew the drill. “Yesss sssir. I … deliberately disobeyed and then
… lied about it,” he parroted, his voice constricted with panic. He
could feel the tears trying to fight their way to the surface.

His father placed his hands softly on his wife’s tight shoulders,
silently suggesting that she take a deep breath and count to ten before
she did anything rash. Since she’d been the one to ground him, and also
the one he’d lied to, dealing with Taylor’s punishment would be her job
now as well; that was how they handled such situations. He was there, willing to step in, however, if she wasn’t up to the task.

Understanding her husband’s loving gesture, she heaved a deep sigh and
silently counted herself down from her fury. Then, with a tight frown
and a decisive nod, she walked over and took Taylor by the arm. “Please
Mom,” he whimpered pitifully, his right hand reaching up and grasping
hers where it held him; he could feel the panic building to a fevered
pitch. He looked pleadingly at her, his heart beating wildly, but she
just shook her head and pulled him towards his bed. “You are going to
get spanked good and hard, young man,” she stated solemnly.

While he frantically tried to make himself disappear inside his own
head, his mother sat down and calmly unfastened his pants, sliding them
to his ankles. Then she took him across her knees and peeled his
underwear down in back. “I don’t think I need to explain why you are
getting this spanking, do I?” she asked tightly.

“No ma’am,” Taylor managed to croak out.

“Good!” she stated, then raised her hand and smacked her son’s bottom
sharply. Taylor caught his breath, grabbing handfuls of bedcovers and
pressing his face hard into them, trying to make it all go away. Despite
his desperate efforts, his muffled cries could be heard after only a few
more swats. Soon he wasn’t able to contain himself and he began to
squirm and struggle hard against the building, burning heat.

“Please Momma,” he moaned. (spank) “Ow!” (spank) “Oh!” (spank) *gasp*,
(spank) “No!” (spank) *hiss*, (spank) “Stop!” (spank) “Pleeeease!”
(spank) “I’m sorry!” (spank) “I really am.” (spank) “I won’t (spank) do
it again.” (spank) “I promise.” (spank) “I do.” (spank) “Pleeeease.”
(spank) “Momma!!!” But she didn’t stop. She had a job to do and she
wasn’t about to be swayed. She gave her naughty son’s bottom several
dozen more stinging slaps, then paused just long enough to ask her
husband to bring her the hairbrush.

“That spanking was for disobeying me by not doing your homework, and for
breaking the rules by leaving the house when you were grounded,” she
told Taylor as she shifted him back into prime spanking position again.
“What you are about to get with the hairbrush is for lying. Do you
understand me?” she asked evenly.

Taylor couldn’t answer her, he was too distraught. After a moment of
silence his father’s angry voice filled the room again, making Taylor
literally jump. “You had better answer her now mister, or you’ll be over
my knee when she’s done with you!”

“Yes ma’am,” he moaned pitifully, and immediately the hairbrush exploded
on his sizzling behind. He arched up, frantically trying to get free,
but his mother was too fast for him and tightened her grip on his waist.
Then she pushed his shoulders off the bed so he was hanging way down
over her knees, pulled his bottom up close, and let him have it but
good. Taylor howled and bawled full-out, writhing wildly, apologizing
over and over, and desperately pleading for her to stop, but she
wouldn’t listen – he knew that. Several dozen more fiery spanks followed
in quick succession before his mother was done teaching him his lesson.
When she finally finished he just lay there panting and sobbing, waiting
for a sign from her that he was allowed to get up. By that point he was
completely spent and his bottom felt like a red-hot frying pan.

After a few moments she gently pulled his underwear back up and helped
him to his feet. Still crying hard he finished dressing and waited for
the next shoe to fall. He knew it wasn’t over yet – it never was. His
mother cleared her throat and said, “I’m going to give your mouth a
thorough washing for this Taylor. You know I don’t tolerate lying. Then
you are going to spend a good long time in the corner thinking about
what you’ve done and how you are going to change your behavior for the
better. Do you understand me?”

Taylor sniffled and nodded, squeaking out a barely audible “yes, ma’am,”
while fighting another surge of tears.

“Afterwards we will have a long discussion about how things are going to
change around here. This can’t go on. This won’t go on. It’s completely
unacceptable.” And she stood up, taking Taylor by the arm and dragging
him off to the bathroom. Sounds of gagging, spitting, moaning and water
running could be heard. Taylor hated having his mouth washed out nearly
as much as getting spanked and everyone in the room knew it. A very
unhappy Taylor was then marched back into the room and put in the corner
with the final admonishment to “just stay there until your father and I
think you’ve had enough time to rethink your behavior!”

After his parents left Taylor put his face in his hands and succumbed to
silent, wracking sobs. He stood crying for several minutes before he was
able to compose himself. Then he forced himself to take a long, hard
look at his behavior. Why was he struggling so much with his schoolwork,
he wondered, so much so that he’d not only stupidly allowed himself to
ignore a very serious situation until it was unmanageable, but then he’d
compounded his troubles by defying his parents and lying. Lying! He
wasn’t a liar. He prided himself on his truthfulness. What could
possibly have made him act so out of character, so inconsistently with
his dearest beliefs and values, and be so mean to his brothers as well?
He was furious with himself. Was this all some kind of pathetic,
subconscious cry for help or something?

He began to realize just how frustrated he was that Zac made it all look
so easy and, also, that Ike had never let it get to him. Ike had always
been so steady and persevering about it all, disciplined and methodical.
Consequently, he had finished high school without any real struggles.
Now his younger brother was probably going to finish even before he did,
and glide right through it easily too. Why was it so hard for him? He
wasn’t stupid. He just couldn’t focus, couldn’t seem to make himself do
it; he’d procrastinate until it was too hard to face anymore, too
overwhelming. He knew he needed help, but instead he kept it all a deep,
dark secret until it was too late and he was out of choices and up
against the wall.

He made a pact with himself right then and there to ask for help and
accept it when it was offered. He knew Zac would be happy to do it, he
just hadn’t wanted to give his little brother the satisfaction of
knowing how much smarter than his big brother he really was. How
pathetic was that? Did he think so little of Zac, or of Ike, who would
gladly have helped as well? Or of himself? He hadn’t let himself realize
until now quite how insecure and fragile his ego really was. He sighed,
disappointed beyond belief in himself. Well, that was going to change.
He had a lot of apologizing to do.

A half hour or so later his mother stuck her head in the door and said
he could come out of the corner now, and that he was to come talk to
them in their room. He turned, shamefaced and embarrassed, and followed
her out, glad to at least not be under the bewildered gaze of his
brothers for a bit. Once in his parents’ room he was told to have a seat
on the sofa and “explain himself.” He lowered himself gingerly onto his
still stinging bottom and, to his surprise, immediately burst into
tears. He told them everything – about how stupid and incapable and
incompetent and insecure he felt he was, and how wrong too, and that
he’d been too ashamed to admit it, or to ask for help, so he’d hidden it
and denied it, ignored it and lied about it, until it was so big it
simply exploded.

His mother smiled softly then, relieved that Taylor had taken this all
so to heart and had really done some serious soul searching. She slid
over to his side, gathered him in her arms and rocked him, calming him
and assuring him that it would all be okay, that he wasn’t any of those
things. He was fine, more than fine really; he was in fact brilliant,
talented, smart, and gifted in ways that couldn’t be measured. He was
struggling, but they would help him; they would sit down together and
organize a plan of action. He had to obey though, had to do the work. He
hadn’t been spanked for falling behind, he’d been spanked for disobeying
and lying about it. He was NOT to do that again! Did he understand?
Could he agree? He sniffled and nodded, whimpering “yes, ma’am,” quietly.