Neil's lakeside cottage

Mike's pov

Breaking our embrace, Neil held me at arm's length saying, "Pull yourself together, Michael, you have some yardwork to attend to. Send in your accomplice while you're at it. I'd like to have a word with him."

Wiping my tears, I dutifully replied, "Yes sir," before heading out the door.

Neil stopped me when I had one foot out the screen door as he sternly questioned, "Aren't you forgetting something, Michael David?"

Seeing the confused look of panic on my face, Neil sighed as he prompted me further, "What's the appropriate response upon receipt of my correction, Michael?"

My eyes darted nervously around the room as I tried to stall for time until I could figure out what Neil wanted.

"You're trying my patience, young man." Neil closed his eyes while rubbing his forehead in frustration.

The lightbulb finally appeared so I quickly blurted out my answer, "Thank you for disciplining me, sir."

"That's better, although a bit hollow due to the prompting required to ascertain your gratitude." Neil frowned disapprovingly before adding, "You're letting flies in, Michael, move along."

Stepping outside, I caught glimpse of a very sweaty and muddy Shane as he lugged a pile of landscaping bricks over to the side garden.

"Time to take five, Admiral, Neil wants a word with you."

Shane's pov

Seeing the hesitation in Mike's step and his red puffy eyes, I had a pretty good idea of how Neil concluded his conversation with the good doctor.

"Are you alright, mate?"

"Yeah," Mike paused, a slight smile gracing his lips, "Everything's gonna be just fine."

I handed him the shovel and Neil's plans.

"Wish me luck," I said, giving Mike a pat on the back before going inside to face the music.

Once inside, I see Neil sitting at the kitchen table sipping his Earl Grey.

"You wanted to speak to me, sir?" I politely ask, knowing full well this is gonna hurt so I better be on my best behaviour.

"Do you know why I called you in here, Shane?"

"I'm guessing to further address my disobedience and disrespect, sir."

"That's correct, Donovan. Nothing ever comes without a consequence, a cost."

Hmmm, where have I heard that before? I thought to myself, trying to recall why those words sound so familiar.

"You of all people should respect the chain of command and understand the consequences for circumventing it. Am I correct, Admiral?" Neil sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yes sir." I know I need to cater to Neil's ego right now.

"You may have been a high-ranking official in the British Royal Navy, Donovan, but in my organization, you're an entry level, disposable employee. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." Not gonna lie, that hurt but I've certainly heard worse so I'll bite my tongue.

"Insubordination of a superior officer is quite the egregious offence in the British Royal Navy. Is it not?" Neil stood up, ready to take action.

"Yes sir." I do not like where this conversation is headed.

"Perhaps we should embrace kickin' it old school as the kids say."

Neil had a look in his eye that honestly terrified me so I remained silent, standing rigidly, shoulders squared, hands clasped behind my back awaiting, nay dreading, his discipline based on his current train of thought.

"As much as flogging you with a cat-o'-nine tails appeals to me based on the level of disrespect I endured from you and your civilian cohort, I don't have one readily at my disposal so I'll have to improvise, adapt, and overcome." Neil smirked as I gritted my teeth, knowing full well his reference to the Marines' slogan would irk me.

I wasn't about to let him goad me into mouthing off, however, as I was in enough trouble already and certainly couldn't claim to be innocent of the charges brought before me, by any means.

"Since you acted like a bloody adolescent by trying to withhold information from daddy to avoid punishment, you're going to be treated as such." Neil circled me slowly, stopping behind my back. "Tell me, how were minors in the British Royal Navy often punished in the early 20th century, Admiral?"

Swallowing hard, I replied, "They were often caned, sir."

When Neil reappeared in front of me, he held a thick three and a half foot long cane in his hands. The fuck! Where the Hell did that come from? I thought to myself. Suddenly experiencing severe dry mouth, I tried to garner enough saliva to allow me to swallow. I needed to place my rapidly beating heart back into its rightful place inside my chest cavity as opposed to where it was currently lodged in my throat.

As Neil slowly circled me again, he tapped the cane against the palm of his hand, prolonging my torturous wait for his impending punitive correction. Beads of sweat appeared on my forehead and as much as I'd like to attribute them to the hard physical labor of my recent landscaping work, I knew very well they were a result of fear and nerves. There was no way around it, Dr. Curtis scared the piss out of me.

"How many strokes were customary for midshipmen and teens to receive for disrespecting a superior officer or disobeying a direct order, Admiral?"

Despite my best attempt at remaining resolute, I flinched when Neil slapped the cane against the tender flesh of his palm, leaving a very visible red stripe in its wake.

Mustering barely enough saliva to speak, I answered, "Six to twelve, sir, depending on the severity of the offence."

"While I certainly feel your offence is severe enough to warrant 'kissing the gunner's daughter', we're going to conduct your discipline in private and you'll remain fully clothed. Consider yourself lucky and count your blessings, Donovan. I won't always be so benevolent." Neil grabbed one of his kitchen chairs and slammed it down in front of me. "Besides, I don't have a cannon so we'll have to make do with this chair. Bend over and assume the position, Admiral, you know the drill."

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I reluctantly assumed the position. My hesitation, however, was not a display of defiance, it was simply due to trepidation. I haven't been caned since boarding school and I don't recall enjoying any part of it back then. Gripping the sturdy wooden sides of the chair, I vowed to remain resolute and accept this childish punishment like a man.

"I don't have to explain the caveats for remaining in position during your chastisement to a well disciplined military man such as yourself, now do I, Admiral?" Neil tapped the cane against my bottom as he spoke.

"No sir, that won't be necessary. I'll remain in position." I can do this. I really shouldn't be so nervous. I've most assuredly endured harsher punishments during my military service but for some reason, Dr. Curtis instills the fear of God in me.

"Twelve strokes, Admiral." I heard the whoosh of the cane whistle past my ear as Neil warmed up with a few practice strokes. "Count them out followed by I'm sorry I disrespected you sir."

Neil whipped the cane against my jean clad bottom, causing me to grimace and bite my tongue to keep from vocalizing any remark other than the required, "One, I'm sorry I disrespected you, sir." Shit, I almost forgot just how much the cane hurts. Before I had a chance to meander any further down memory lane, Neil swiftly striped the cane across the center of my cheeks. "Two, I'm sorry I disrespected you, sir."

Neil took his time between the remaining strokes, allowing the burn to linger while prolonging my discomfort and humiliation as I was being chastised like a naughty school boy. I took a few shallow breaths and exhaled through clenched teeth to weather the next few strokes, while obediently keeping the count.

"I don't want a repeat of this deceptive type of behaviour. Despite deeming this discipline as necessary, I don't particularly enjoy having to deliver it. I will, however, do whatever it takes to protect the reputation of the NJC and the Foundation at all costs. Understood?" Neil lectured, as he mercilessly punished my already smarting bum.

"Yes sir, I understand," I practically whispered through my tightly clenched jaw.

Come strokes ten, eleven, and twelve, it became extremely difficult to stay in position as they were all laced across my thighs. I bent my knees and hissed, causing Neil to deliver a penalty stroke.

"You should know better, Donovan," was all he needed to say, as I certainly did in fact know better than to deviate from the designated stance.

My caning now complete, Neil ordered me with more authority than I'd ever heard from any of my commanding officers during my entire military career, "Stand and face me, Donovan."

Although I didn't cry, I was still in a tremendous amount of pain as Neil's proficiency with the cane was exemplary to say the least. My guess is, when I look at my behind in the mirror later on, I'll see one bright red streak across the center of my bottom with blue edges, as it will quickly bruise, and three distinct stripes lacing my upper thighs. Neil's precision in overlapping the same spot on my buttocks will be quite evident.

Resisting the urge to rub my aching bum, I stood ramrod straight in front of Neil.

"Thank you for correcting my misbehaviour, sir. I know I don't deserve your compassion but I appreciate your restraint when addressing my misconduct."

A slight smile graced Neil's lips.

"Props for the unsolicited apology, Admiral. Now if only the good doctor was as well trained." Neil gently placed his cane on the kitchen table before pulling me into a hug. "I'm proud of how well you took your punishment."

I didn't care to admit how good Neil's embrace and approval actually felt. Not having received much affection from my father, God rest his soul, during my childhood or adulthood for that matter, I relished what little praise Neil was willing to proffer.

"Don't make a habit of this insubordination, Admiral, for I will always outrank you in this organization. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir."

Breaking our embrace, he swatted me on the behind saying, "Good, now go help Michael finish up your chores. We have to be going soon." Neil sat back down at the table to sip his tea while picking up the newspaper.

Hesitating in the doorway, I turned back towards him.

"Yes, what is it, Donovan?" Neil looked up from his paper, largely unconcerned.

"I really am sorry, sir, we should have come to you immediately," I apologized from the heart this time, not from obligation.

"Thank you, Donovan, I appreciate that," Neil replied, looking me in the eye before focusing his attention back on today's headlines.

Once we finished up outside, we came in to get cleaned up before heading home. While Mike was in the shower, I phoned Stacey.

"Hi Shane." She genuinely sounded happy to hear from me which made my day.

"Hi, luv. I just called to say I'm proud of you, sweetheart. You did the right thing by going to Dr. Curtis and telling him what you did, even though it couldn't have been easy."

"Oh, he told you?" Stacey sounded not only worried but a little sad upon hearing that.

"Yes, luv, but I'd like to know why you didn't tell Mike and I that you confided in Dr. Curtis."

"Are you mad at me, Shane? Is Mike mad at me?" Stacey's tiny voice tugged at my heart strings.

"No, luv, Mike and I aren't mad at you. I just told you how proud I am of you for telling the truth, Mike is too."

Still unsure, Stacey questioned, "Was Dr. Curtis mad at you?"

"That's not important, sweetheart. I just wanted to let you know that Mike and I would like to sit down with you when we get back and discuss what happened between you and Dr. Curtis. Ok?"

"I guess, as long as I'm not in trouble." Stacey was unconvinced as to the true motive behind my call and our impending tete-a-tete.

"Good, because you know I'm not actually asking your permission. Correct? We will sit down and discuss this when we get home this evening. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," Stacey spoke timidly, convinced she was somehow in trouble.

"Alright. I love you, sweetheart. I have to go. Say hello to your sisters for me. We'll be home around 8pm."

Later that evening at the NJC

Shane's pov

Upon our return home, Mike and I sat down with Stacey in my room to have a private conversation. "Please tell us what happened when you went to see Dr. Curtis, sweetheart."

"Promise I'm not in trouble?" Stacey asked.

"Yes, sweetheart, I promise. Mike and I would just appreciate a head's up when you girls go to Dr. Curtis, instead of leaving us in the dark." As soon as those words left my lips, I realized how Neil felt when Mike and I did the same thing to him.

Stacey's pov

Flashback of her going to Dr. Curtis to confess

When I walked up to Mrs. Curtis as she sat at her desk outside his office, I said, "Hello, Mrs. Curtis, may I speak to Dr. Curtis please?"

"What did you need to see Dr. Curtis about, luv?" Mrs. Curtis asked, as she patted my hand.

"I'd rather not say, it's just too awful, Mrs. Curtis, I'm sorry." I began to cry, knowing I'd have to voice the terrible things I did, all over again.

"Ohhh, don't cry, sweetheart. Let's go in and speak to him now. Okay?"

"Darling, Stacey would like to speak to you in private about an urgent matter." Mrs. Curtis shut the door on her way out.

"Sit and tell me what's on your mind, young lady." Dr. Curtis sat behind his desk while gesturing to the chair across from him.

"I did something awful, Dr. Curtis, that I think you should know about."

"Go on." Leaning forward in his chair, it was obvious I had peaked his interest.

"I took Julie's anti-anxiety medication without permission and sold it to a kid at school so I could use the money I made to buy new clothes."

"Do Michael and Shane know all this?" he asked.

"Yes sir. I confessed so they wouldn't punish Julie since they thought she was abusing her medication."

Dr. Curtis slammed his hand down so hard on his desk, his office phone fell off the cradle and I jumped about a foot off my seat.

Placing the phone back on the handset, he pressed the intercom button and said, "Liz darling, please bring me the hairbrush you keep in your desk drawer."

"May I ask why you require it, luv?"

"No you may not. Please just do as I ask and bring me the brush." I could tell Dr. Curtis was irritated with his wife.

"Not until you tell me its intended purpose, sweetheart," Mrs. Curtis spoke politely but firmly.

"Please excuse me, Stacey, I'll be right back."

I don't think Dr. or Mrs. Curtis realized they left the intercom on so I could hear their entire conversation.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, luv," Dr. Curtis spoke sternly.

"I'm not, sweetheart, as I would like you to answer my question," Mrs. Curtis replied stubbornly.

"You know I don't like to have to repeat myself. We'll address that later in private," Dr. Curtis admonished his wife.

"I also know you don't like sleeping on the couch, luv, so I'd watch the tone you take with me," Mrs. Curtis countered. She loved her husband's dominant side but disliked his propensity to become overbearing at times.

"Touche. Well played, Mrs. Curtis. You know I only have the children's best interests at heart, don't you?"

"Without a doubt, sweetheart," she replied confidently.

Changing course, Neil whispered in a sexy low growl, "I look forward to begging your forgiveness later in the bedroom, luv, for speaking to you so harshly." Neil leaned in close and roughly kissed his wife's neck, leaving a noticeable love mark.

"I'm sorry I questioned you. Perhaps I'll atone for my sins on my knees tonight, once we retire for the evening." Mrs. Curtis sounded as if she was out of breath.

Mike and I sat wide-eyed, our mouths agape.

That's when I shut the intercom off.

"Oh, thank God," Mike voiced what we were all thinking.

Approximately two minutes later, Dr. Curtis returned to his office with flushed cheeks and his wife's hairbrush in hand.

Clearing his throat and loosening his tie, he commanded, "Tell me why you're receiving this spanking, Stacey." He pulled me over his lap as he sat down in his office chair.

"Because I stole my cousin's medication and sold it to make money," I said sadly, as I started to tear-up. I'd never been spanked with a hairbrush before but I still knew it was gonna hurt like a son of a bit...

"Stacey!" Mike interrupted me in the nick of time before I let the expletive slip.

Sorry. Where was I?

Oh yeah, so Dr. Curtis rubbed the back of the hairbrush in circles on my bottom over my black leggings as he lectured, "I know you're sorry for what you did, darlin', and I know Michael and Shane have punished you, but I cannot let this type of misbehaviour go unaddressed."

Tapping the brush against my backside, he asked, "You can understand that, can't you, Stacey?"

"Yes sir," I said, swallowing audibly as I was scared to death of being spanked with that hard rigid brush.

"Good, let's begin." He slapped the back of the brush down hard against my backside, taking my breath away with the pain that radiated across my bottom. He continued to spank me rapidly with the brush as I struggled on his lap, trying to avoid any more direct hits.

"I strongly suggest you stop fighting this punishment, young lady, if you know what's good for you." Dr. Curtis slapped my sit spots and I yelped as I bucked off his lap. "I warned you, darlin'." He slipped his hand under my waistband, causing me to cry freely as he peeled my leggings and underwear down beneath my hips, revealing my already pinkened, bare backside.

"Please, Dr. Curtis, I'm sorry," I pleaded, as I reached my hand back to cover my naked bottom.

"If you don't remove your hand in the next five seconds, Stacey Marie, I will finish this spanking with my belt by mercilessly striping your thighs. One, two, three..."

"No, please don't, Dr. Curtis," I begged, as I kept my hand precariously placed over my inflamed buttocks.

"...four," he kept counting in his icy cold tone, as I continued to cry. "So help me God, Stacey, if I say five, you won't sit for a month."

I quickly withdrew my hand and said, "No, don't say five. I won't reach back again, I promise." Burying my face, I cried into my hands.

"Stacey, relax, we're almost finished here," Dr. Curtis said, as he gently rubbed my aching bottom. "You came clean to your guardians and you willingly came to me," he paused, absentmindedly patting my bottom before continuing, "I respect that."

He slapped my butt with his hand.

"Now, if you hold still, I'll only give you twenty more with the hairbrush. Alright?"

Sniffling, I replied, "Yes sir," just praying for this punishment to be over.

"That's my good girl." Dr. Curtis smacked the hairbrush against my tender flesh, bringing fresh tears to my eyes as it reignited the burning sting on my already throbbing backside. I clutched his calf, squeezing tightly as he continued to spank me rapidly and firmly with the brush. "Last ten, sweetheart, count them out followed by sir."

Dr. Curtis smacked each of my sit spots.

"One sir, two sir," I quickly counted the strokes. He continued to punish my sit spots until strokes seven and eight, which targeted my thighs, leaving angry red splotches. "Seven sir, eight sir," I screeched out, as I tried to push myself up off his lap due to the unbearable pain.