Bringing Home Danny

by M. A. Blisher

  Danny knew he was being a baby about this whole thing. He also knew TJ took particular pleasure in teasing him because he can always get him to react. As much as he hated to admit it, today was going to be no different. Danny was angry, and he allowed himself the satisfaction of turning his anger into rage. He felt momentarily justified when he picked up the infamous bowl of oatmeal and hurled it towards TJ. Luckily, TJ was able to duck in time for it to skim the top of his head and smash into the wall behind him.

  “ There! I emptied my bowl! Was that fast enough for you?”

  “ DANIEL CHRISTOPHER!!!”

  Danny jumped in surprise at the force of Antonio's voice. Even though TJ was being an ass, if the flying dish had hit him he could have been seriously hurt. Danny felt immediately ashamed.

  “ You little shit!” TJ screamed, once he got his bearings.

  “ Fuck you!” Danny yelled back in heightened hysteria.

  “ That is enough out of the both of you!”

  Antonio knew he had misjudged their earlier agitation with each other and should have intervened sooner. He had hoped they could have settled it on their own, and now they were spinning out of control. No longer listening to Antonio, TJ lunged after Danny. Although he quickly leapt out of the way, it was not in time to avoid being shoved against the wall by TJ on pure adrenaline.

  “ You could have killed me!”

  “ I'm sorry,” Danny said, in a shaky voice full of remorse.

  TJ drew his hand back as if to hit him.

  “ Stop!” Ricky cried.

  “ Leave him alone, TJ,” Antonio commanded using his strong authoritative voice.

  “ Why? Just because he's the baby he gets away with murder.”

  “ Nobody is getting away with anything. I will handle it.”

  “ Yeah, well you better spank him good or I'll do it myself!”

  “ You, young man, will keep your hands to yourself and adjust your attitude, or it will be your backside that I'll be tanning.”

  Realizing he was stepping out of line and was taking more liberties than if Mitch had been there, TJ let Antonio's last comment defuse his outrage.

  “ Now, get out of the kitchen. You have caused enough problems this morning.”

  “ Fine,” TJ huffed. “Just as long as he gets what's coming to him,” he added, pointing a finger at Danny.

  As TJ marched out of the room, Danny slumped against the wall feeling thoroughly defeated. He blinked back tears at seeing Ricky's distress. It shamed him to know he was the cause of it. When Ricky turned to leave the room, Danny wanted to call out to him and tell him everything was going to be okay. But he didn't know if it was. He sucked in and bit his lower lip, then stole a quick peek up. When Antonio edged closer he tried to read his facial expression to gauge the severity of the situation. Danny wasn't sure if he should feel relieved at what appeared to be more of an expression of determination than disapproval.

  “ Well, you have certainly made the most of your breakfast.”

  Danny was unnerved by the uncharacteristic sarcasm. He resisted briefly before allowing Antonio to lead him back over to the table.

  Antonio pulled out a kitchen chair. “Pull down your pants,” he ordered.

  Danny stood frozen in his place with the exception of his quivering lip. Waiting for Antonio to retrieve the thick wooden spoon from the counter drawer, he wondered how he had he let things get so out of hand over oatmeal. Antonio was right. He had eaten it before, so why was it so hard for him to eat it today? It didn't seem fair.

  Sensing Danny's reluctance to comply, Antonio placed the spoon on the table in front of them with a sigh. At the tender age of eighteen, Antonio was always a little extra careful where Danny was concerned. He did not want to give rise to the boy's internal struggle, so he untied Danny's PJ bottoms for him. Once they dropped past his thighs, Danny's knees began to tremble to match his lower lip. Antonio steeled himself in order to maintain his fortitude to carry through with his punishment.

  “ You brought this on yourself,” Antonio chastised.

  He slipped his fingers into the waistband of the boy's briefs, pulling him in closer. Danny whimpered when they were tugged down to meet his pants. Antonio quickly lifted Danny up under his arms and took a seat while simultaneously draping the young man over his knees. At no time was it more apparent to Antonio that Danny was the smallest of his partners then when he was bent over his lap for a spanking. Not quite as tall as Mitch, Antonio was still an impressive six and a half feet, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. Danny, on the other hand, was scarcely five and a half feet tall, with a slender frame that carried small, tight muscles. He was athletic, and deceivingly strong for his size, but appeared more like a young child lying over Antonio's large thighs. His toes barely reached the ground as his hands grasped at Antonio's pant legs.

  Antonio sighed as he surveyed the backside over his lap. There were several pink blotches visible. He rested a hand at the under curve of Danny’s left buttock and could feel the warmth that Mitch had left there.

  Danny had such a cute little backside. It was small, round, firm, and as smooth as a baby's bottom. He really hated to have to mar it up. In fact, he truly did not want to have to discipline him at all.

  Danny was in an eternal conflict with self-control. Antonio wished he understand why everything was such a battle for him. Still, he was pushing limits all morning; he had all but asked for this spanking. Antonio briefly contemplated the idea of waiting to let Mitch dole out the punishment. He had to be fair. Mitch was usually the heavy disciplinarian in the family, and the boys knew it. They also suspected Antonio was becoming soft, and they were taking advantage of it. No, this was his responsibility, and it was time to take matters in his own hands.

  Antonio could feel Danny trying to calm down with deep breaths as his stomach rose and fell over his thighs. Not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, he tucked his little man in close with his left hand to hold him securely against his body.

  Steadying himself he remembered to ask, “How did you earn this spanking, Danny?”

  Not trusting himself to speak, Danny shrugged his shoulders and covered his face with his arm. In some ways this was the hardest part of the punishment for Danny. When he knew he was heading for a trip over the knee he would sometimes provoke Mitch to immediately lay into him so he could evade this part of the spanking ritual. Leave it to Antonio to keep his cool. A loud slap to the middle of his rear jerked Danny to attention.

  “ I expect an answer!” Antonio demanded.

  Before Danny was able to formulate a coherent thought, Antonio delivered another punishing smack with his large hand to the same spot.

  “ I...I...” Shit! What am I suppose to say? Danny couldn't think. SPANK! “Ow...I don't....”

  Antonio cut him off. “It's not a trick question, Danny. You don't have to think too hard. I believe your behaviors leading up to this are quite obvious.”

  He spanked him again, hard, and Danny jumped. Antonio reeled him back in and waited.

  “ I lost my temper and threw my oatmeal!” Danny cried.

  Antonio would have chuckled at how young he sounded if it hadn't been so pitiful. As simplistic as his version of events was, it was nonetheless accurate. Antonio decided to forgo the lecture. He allowed Danny's words to be the last thing voiced before he picked up the wooden spoon from the table and commenced with the painful lesson. After the third whack, Danny removed his arm from his face, and clutched Antonio's pant legs with both hands. He tried not to cry out with each corrective smack of the spoon. By the time his butt cheeks turned from hot pink to a crimson red, tears were leaking without his consent, and he was struggling not to sob openly.

  Feeling his arm getting tired, Antonio glanced d
own at the red-hot posterior in front of him, and stopped. They both have had enough. He realized how difficult it was for Danny to show his tears and cry. So, he laid down the spoon to rub gentle circles on his back, giving Danny time to gain his composure. Hearing his breathing become less shallow and hiccups replacing tears, Antonio put his game face back on. Lifting Danny to a standing position, he sternly told him to pull up his pants and to find a corner of the kitchen to become acquainted with.

  “ While you have your nose in the corner, I want you to think about how all of this could have been prevented. I also want you to give some thought on how your actions could have had led to a much more serious outcome. How would you feel if you were spending this time in the emergency room with TJ instead of nursing a sore behind? I do not care how mad you get. You do not have the right to take your anger out on others.” Antonio paused to let his comments sink in. He followed up with the standard, “Do you understand me?”

  Fighting back tears of shame once again, Danny meekly responded with a “Yes, sir,” between sniffs and hiccups.

  Chapter Two

  Corner Time

  Damn it! Danny accepted that what he did was wrong, but why did he have to stand in the corner, too? He hated being in the corner even more than he hated oatmeal. He sorely wished he could go back in time and be sitting at the table eating that stupid baby mush instead of standing here staring at the stupid baby corner. Danny HATED being treated like a baby. He was always small for his age and people often thought of him as younger than he was. He fought hard his whole life to be considered older and tougher. It didn't matter how hard he tried, he was either teased and picked on, or called cute and patronized. Growing up without the benefit of siblings or caring parents, Danny found himself in a lot of fights in an attempt to defend and prove himself.

  The problem was, he was tired of fighting; he just didn't know how to stop. He wanted to seem more mature, and, well, taller. He heard that some men continued to grow into their early twenties. He sincerely hoped to be one of those late bloomers. It wasn't likely. Only taller guys had that kind of luck. If anybody were going to grow more, it would probably be someone like TJ. It seemed the whole world grew and left him behind.

  Danny's legs wobbled from both the pain of his backside rubbing against his pants and from the strain of standing still. It mercilessly brought him back to the present situation. Why the hell, if he wanted to be seen as more mature, did he find himself being the youngest member of a discipline partnership where his tops referred to him as the baby, and his fellow bottoms treated him like a kid brother?

  Fuck if he knew. He never thought too much about being gay, much less heard of discipline relationships before he met TJ . Up until then, he liked girls; and for the most part, they liked him. But they would never really let him take the dominant role, even after he showed he could hold his own in a fight. No, they would rather see him as someone in need of saving, and would want to mother him and nurse his wounds.

  Then, it hit him like a sucker punch. He was here because he did need someone to rescue him, to take care of him, because he wasn't able to do it himself. Mad and disappointed with himself, he kicked the wall in front of him. Damn! It hurt to kick the wall in his socked foot. To hell with being mature. Secretly, all Danny wanted to do was suck his thumb and cry.

  “ Stand still, Danny.”

  Shit! How long has Antonio been watching me?

  “ What's the baby doing in the corner?” came Mitch's grim voice behind him.

  Double shit! Mitch finally came back to check on my oatmeal progress; this is not good . Take a deep breath and stay calm .

  “Well, apparently, Danny decided to have a full-blown tantrum. In a fit of temper, he chucked his bowl of oatmeal,” Antonio replied, while pointing to the evidence dripping down the wall.

  Danny inhaled and braced himself for what was to come next. It came out as a big hiccup. He was grateful that Antonio didn't find it necessary to mention that he was actually aiming for TJ's head.

  “ I see. Come here, Danny.”

  Shit! Shit! Shit! I can't move, thought Danny.

  “ Now, Daniel!”

  He slowly turned around, facing his challenger. Worrying his lower lip between his teeth, he peeked up through tear-laden lashes and quickly assessed that he was outmanned. If he could run in retreat he would, but he was backed up against a wall. Facing both his angry tops he realized he was out of options. He was literally cornered.

  “ Daniel Christopher, I am going to give you until the count of five, and if you and that sorry little butt of yours are not standing directly in front of me – so help me, you won't be sitting comfortably for a month!”

  Wide eyes stared back at Mitch as he began his count.

  “ One.”

  Danny took one tentative step forward while unconsciously clutching the seat of his pants.

  “ Two!”

  Danny jumped and took another hesitant step forward.

  “ Boy, don't make me have to come and get you!”

  Danny hastened his pace and reached Mitch in the time it took him to say three.

  “ Thank you. Now, would you care to tell me why there is a broken bowl on the floor, and oatmeal all over the wall?” Mitch’s baritone voice rose with each inflection.

  Danny could feel his face turning red, his body beginning to sweat, and he was starting to feel as hot as his backside. Too full of shame, he couldn't bring himself to say it. Needing more time to gather his nerve, he could only sniff and shake his head no.

  “ Wrong answer!”

  Mitch grabbed Danny by the arm, swung him sideways, and smacked his bottom with enough force that Danny would have fallen on his face if Mitch hadn't had a firm grip on him.

  I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, Danny stubbornly told himself.

  Turning him back around, Mitch took a tight hold on both of Danny's upper arms, squeezed hard, and shook him.

  “ Would you care to try that again?”

  Danny gazed down at their feet. He tried to think of an answer that wouldn't make it sound as bad as it was.

  “ Eyes on me, Danny.”

  Danny slowly glanced up at Mitch. He opened his mouth to speak and let out another loud hiccup. Mitch's face contorted in anger; he had none of the soft compassionate edges that always made Antonio seem safe even when he was mad. He wondered how a man who claimed to love him could make him feel so small.

  “ Take a deep breath and calm down, then, I want an explanation.”

  Easy for him to say, thought Danny. He's not staring at a man twice his size with a death grip on his arms. Accepting that there was nothing he could do to make the situation better, and not knowing what else to say, he stammered out, “I...I'm ssorrry.”

  Giving a heavy sigh, Mitch questioned, “Sorry for what?”

  Danny looked regretfully over at the smashed oatmeal mess.

  “ I'm sorry for not eating the oatmeal and for throwing…”

  He paused to consider the chances that Mitch wouldn't find out that he tried to split TJ's head open with it. The odds were against him. “…ThrowingitatTJ,” he finished in one quick, quiet breath.

  “ I'm sorry, could you repeat that?” Mitch asked, dropping his grip on Danny. “This time slower and louder.”

  Unable to maintain eye contact, Danny focused his attention straight ahead towards Mitch's chest. In what seemed like an alternative universe, Danny couldn't imagine how he ever thought of his broad muscled chest as sexy or comforting. At the moment, he only thought of it as a solid wall he could neither move nor escape from. Suddenly, the blood drained from his body. An eerie calmness came over him as he crossed his arms to rub the ache out of his biceps.

&n
bsp; “ I – t h r e w – i t – a t – T J,” he said, emphasizing each word.

  “ I see. Was there any particular reason for that? Or, were you trying to play catch with it?” Sarcasm stretched each of Mitch's words, as well.

  “ Umm...no. I was trying to knock the smirk off TJ’s face, and empty my bowl at the same time.”

  Although it was as honest an answer as he could give, his instincts told him it was not the response that would make Mitch happy. Not trusting what he would see if he looked him in the face, Danny glanced past him and caught Antonio shaking his head in disbelief.

  “ But, he ducked and I missed,” Danny finished before losing his nerve.

  “ Are you being smart with me?”

  “ N-no, sir,” Danny stammered, and proceeded to bite his thumbnail.

  “ Because trust me, boy, this is not the time to get cute.”

  Danny remained silent. He began to study his thumb and chew the skin around it. He found himself getting irritated. Danny wanted Mitch to stop prolonging his agony with stupid sayings such as 'being smart' and 'getting cute,' as if it was something he could turn off and on. Besides, he couldn't help it if he was both cute and smart. And so what if I am? What's wrong with that? Danny knew he was letting his mind wander. It was something he did as a coping mechanism to avoid unpleasant thoughts. Curious of the silence, Danny ventured a peek up at Mitch. Mitch returned an equally curious look back at him.

  “ Get your thumb out of your mouth,” was all Mitch could think to say before pulling Danny's hand away.

  The gesture brought back some of the earliest memories Danny had of his father. He seemed to always be cross with him, and was constantly telling him to get his thumb out of his mouth. He could not understand now, any more than when he was a child, why it mattered to anyone else if he sucked his thumb or bit his nails. Who was it hurting? Danny showed his irritation with an exaggerated sigh and a roll of his eyes.