It Was Only a K

Part 1 – Eric and Sonny

Sonny stumbled into the hallway of the house he and Eric had purchased only last
year. It was a rundown 19th century villa that they had slowly been renovating.
Eric was standing at the end of the hallway wearing jeans and a t-shirt that
matched his eyes. It was a t-shirt Sonny had bought him, although anyone who
mentioned that was a very gay thing to do, tended to get a mouthful. Brian had
got hit over the head with a pillow.

"I'm drunk," Sonny confided to Eric who just raided an eyebrow.

"So I see," Eric replied. "Did Brian drive you home?"

"Yes, he was a bit pissed but it was only a really short trip," Sonny replied,
he might have been drunk, but he'd have to have been comatose to not notice the
eyebrow, and the sudden glint that appeared in Eric's eyes. He suddenly felt
very sober "Oh shit."

"I suppose I should be pleased that the message on communication had got
through," Eric said dryly. "I'm guessing you know where we go to from here."

Sonny led the way to the old butler's pantry. It had been one of the first room
renovated and had become a punishment room. Once inside the door was shut and
the light turned on it was obvious the room was soundproof and although the
furnishing was a straight back chair, a battered old squashy sofa and a small
set of drawers. Eric reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a paddle.

Sonny sniffled as he pulled down his pants "It was only a k," he protested as he
laid over Eric's knee. Eric pulled down Sonny's boxers to bare his bum.

"I don't care," the Top said, "I don't care you got drunk. What this is for is
getting into a car when you knew the person driving it was drunk.."

Eric never bothered with a warm up. He always figured his Brat's bottom would
warm up perfectly well with the paddle. The first swat was loud. Sonny stiffened
as the pain hit and hissed through his teeth. The second swat landed just below
the first and Sonny could stop the yelp that escaped. Eric then set a steady
rhythm, slowly turning his brat's bottom from creamy white, to rosy pink and the
slowly to flaming red. It was the worst paddling he'd handed out in a while, but
this was one message he wanted to drive home.

Sonny was a mess, and after swearing black and blue he'd never catch a lift with
someone drunk again. he just cried as the pain built. It was only when he was
being held by his lover on the big sofa that his sobs tapered off. " I'm sorry,"
he said his voice hoarse with the crying.

"I know baby," Eric was busy soothing his partner, "It's forgiven, but never do
it again. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt or killed in a car crash."

Tears started to run down Sonny's face again. "I never thought of it like that.
His green eyes where bloodshot as he looked up at Eric, "It was a k, but next
time I'll walk."


Part 2 –Adam and Brian

Brian parked the car on the grass. He was a bit perturbed that he was seeing two
garages when he'd left that morning there had only been one.

He walked into the house quite proud that he could walk a straight line. "Honey
I'm home," he sang out as he entered.

"I'm in the study," came back Adam's voice.

"What are you doing in here," Brian's voice trailed off was he saw his Top
sitting behind the desk with a strap lying in front of him. "What…?" he croaked.

"If you tell me you're sober, or someone else drove the car I'll put the belt
away," Adam said, in a level tone.

"What are you? A bloodhound? How the hell can you tell I've been drinking form
over there?"

Adam crooked an eyebrow (what is it with these tops and the eyebrow) "The three
tries you had at getting into the garage clued me in." Plus the fact Oliver from
the bar called me saying you the Dial-a-Driver car you'd called couldn't find
you. I added 2 to 2 and made 4. Tell me I'm wrong."

"It was only a k," Brian protested. "and Dial-a-Driver was taking forever,."

"I don't care," Adam replied standing up. "You do not drive drunk. Not on k not
a dam metre." Adam took a deep breath as Brian rushed from the room and could be
heard throwing up into the sink, "Damn," he thought to himself as he poured a
glass of cool water and made his Brat sip it slowly, "he's been drinking Jim
Beam and L'n'P."

Once Brian had finished the water they went back into the study. No more talk
was necessary they'd done this dance plenty of times. The strap cracked down and
Brian cried out. His last coherent thought for a while was "Shit this is going
to hurt." He was right and when Adam carried him to bed, he found it extremely
difficult to find a comfortable position. After an uneasy night he padded
downstairs in the oldeset. softest pants he could find.

"How did you get the black eye?"

"Would you believe amnesia?"