Lady M (lady_m_319) wrote,
Lady M

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Author:  Lady M

Characters: John, Dean, Sam, Bobby

Scenario:  Dean spanks John

Implements:  Hand.

Rating:  PG-13 for spanking and mild swearing.

Warning:  Parental spanking of minors.  Please don't read if it offends you.

Disclaimer:  Eric Kripke and the CW own all.  I own nothing.

“Dad is so going to kick your ass Sam.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Doesn’t matter.  He gave you an order and you didn’t follow it.”

“I was trying to help.”

“Orders are orders, Sam.  You know that.”

“Crap,” Sam looks over his left shoulder at the shrunken de-aged figure of his father standing on the backseat of the Impala.

John’s small child sized feet are planted firmly on the seat.  His torso rests casually against the back of the seat.  Two small pudgy hands clap in glee.

Dean glances in the rearview mirror, “Hey Dad, no standing in the backseat.  Your rule.”

“Nuh ah,” John giggles.  He stamps one foot after the other as if he’s marching in place.

“Sam, can you do something?”  Dean implores.

Sam leans over the front seat into the backseat.  He grabs at John’s ankles to slide him to a sitting position.

John slaps playfully at Sam’s large hands.  He scoots to the far side of the seat behind Dean.  He smirks.  He waits.  He cautiously steps towards Sam.

Sam reaches.

John steps back against the side panel.

Sam misses.

John steps forward again.  He’s playing a game. 

Sam reaches and misses.  He huffs.  He turns around in his seat.  “How long until we get to Bobby’s?”  Sam implores Dean.

“At least three hours.  He said he’d call back.”

“Dad won’t sit down.  He thinks I’m playing.”

“He’s going to fall.”  Dean silently smirks at how much he sounds like his father.

John giggles.  He crouches slightly.  He creeps towards the front edge of the seat.  He jumps forward.  He swings his small arms around Dean’s head.  He covers Dean’s eyes with his chubby little hands.

“Sam, get him off of me.  I can’t see,” Dean states with alarm.

“I got the wheel.  Just take your foot off the gas.”

Dean complies.  He grabs John around his wrists.  He pries the chubby hands from around his head.

John laughs.  He lets his legs free fall behind the front seat.

Dean supports John’s total weight by holding him around his wrists.

The Impala slows.  Sam guides it to the shoulder of the road to a safe stop.  He turns the key in the ignition to an off position.

“Dad, what were you thinking?”  Dean pulls John by his wrists into the front seat.

“Funny!”  John claps his hands.

“Funny?  No Dad, not funny,” Dean scolds.

John jumps up and down on the seat between the boys.

His dad not following the rules is especially unsettling for Dean.  Not to mention that his father seems to have the body of a four or five-year-old but the vocabulary of a two or three-year-old, along with a toddler’s sense of humor.

Sam begins, “Dean, I don’t remember a lot from my child development class…”

“You took child development?  You’re such a girl.”

“Dean could you focus, please?”

“Okay, go ahead Dr. Spock.”

“Does dad seem a little lacking in verbal skills for his size?”  Sam observes.

“I was wondering the same thing.  Whatever happened to him it seems to have put him out of sync.”

“How are we going to get him back in sync?”  Sam asks excitedly.

John startles at Sam’s raised voice.  He slaps Sam in the face for scaring him.

Sam goes statuesque.  His brows and eyes go wide in shock.

John leans in towards Sam’s face.  He mockingly mirrors Sam’s wide eyed expression.

Sam points his right index finger in John’s face.  “You slap me again and I’ll…I’ll…”

John giggles.

“Dean, help me out here,” Sam pleads.

Dean grabs John around the waist.  He turns the small body around to face him.  “Dad, no hitting Sam in the face.  In fact, no hitting at all,” Dean orders meaningfully.

John reaches upward.  He holds Dean’s face between his two chubby hands.  As Dean verbally reprimands John, he moves his hands towards Dean’s moving mouth, squeezing in Dean’s cheeks.  As he moves his hands closer to Dean’s mouth he forces Dean’s lips to pucker up.  He causes Dean’s mouth to form fish lips.  John smiles brightly with a twinkle in his eyes.  He works Dean’s lips into funny shapes as Dean attempts to admonish John’s behavior.

Dean loses his patience.  He grabs his father’s wrists.  He pulls them away from his face.  “Dad, Stop!”  Dean commands sternly.

John shrinks back into himself.  His lower lip extends out in an all out pout that puts one of Sam’s pouts to shame.  He rests his arms across his chest.  He glares at Dean for putting an end to his fun.  He kicks Dean in the thigh.

“Hey, Dad, that hurt.”  Dean rubs his bruised thigh.  “Let’s make that no hitting and no kicking.”  Dean sizes up the ornery expression on his miniature father’s face.  “Maybe you should get in the backseat and take a nap.  You seem a little cranky,” Dean offers hoping to defuse the situation.

“No!”  John brings his crossed arms down again against his chest for emphasis.

Dean glances at Sam for support.

Sam shrugs his shoulders.

“Crap Sam, at this rate we’ll never get to Bobby’s for help.  He’s a kid.  He needs to follow orders just like we did…do.”  Dean levels a threatening glare at his father, “Dad, get in the backseat, now, and take a nap.”

John matches his son’s glare as only John Winchester can.

Dean pauses thoughtfully.  He smirks slightly.  His eyes twinkle with mischief.  “One,” Dean drags the word out.

“DEAN!  Are you counting?”  Sam asks astounded.

“Yeah Sam, I’m betting he understands what happens if I get to three.”

“But it’s Dad…  You can’t.”

“Twwwooo… I guess we’ll see what happens if he thinks I’m bluffing.”

John does a quick squint with his eyes.

Dean rapidly raises his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.  “Thr…”

John suddenly scrambles over the front seat into the back.

Dean places his hand on John’s butt to steady him as he scoots over the top of the front seat.  Dean turns the key in the ignition.  He gives Sam a wide satisfied grin.  He steers his beloved Impala onto the blacktop.  He glimpses quickly in the rearview mirror.  The murderous glower his father is giving his first born wipes the smirk off Dean’s face.  A shiver runs down his spine.  Dean expects if dad remembers any of this, he won’t be sitting comfortably on his ass for days.  Dean smacks his brother with the back of his hand.  He gestures with his thumb towards the back seat.

“Uhm, Dad, Dean wants you to take a nap,” Sam explains.

Dean smacks his brother a little harder this time.

Sam bitch faces at Dean.

Dean stares into the rearview mirror.  He can’t believe what he is about to let spew from his mouth.  “Don’t make me stop this car,” he repeats the warning he’s heard too many times spoken by his father.

John waits moments returning Dean’s glower.  He slowly slides down to sit his backside down on the backseat.

In the war-of-wills that’s two to zero in Dean’s favor.  He’s a good poker player but he knows you can only bluff for so long.  His luck is bound to run out any time now.  Or will it be John’s luck that runs out?  Dean’s in no hurry to find out.  He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath.  He relaxes.  Sure he took care of Sammy when he was little.  Sure he spanked him when he did something naughty or wouldn’t listen to him.  But that was his job.  That was Sammy.  This is dad.  Dean comes to a conclusion.  His job has always been clear, to take care of his brother and his family.  He steals a peek at the small figure of his father sitting innocently wide eyed on the back seat.  He resolves that his job description hasn’t changed; it may just have become a little awkward.

The Impala speeds towards a billboard with the McDonald’s golden arches. 

John squeaks excitedly.  He stands on the hump in the backseat.  He points.

“I could eat.  Sam?”  Dean asks as he turns off the exit.

“He didn’t nap so he’s still going to be grouchy,” Sam warns in a soft voice.

“Maybe some food will improve his disposition.  It always helps mine,” Dean beams.  He parks the Impala.

“Fine but he’s your responsibility,” Sam directs.

“Dude, you might want to remember who got us into this fuck’in situation.”



“Fuck’in!”  John claps his hands.

“Oh, great!  That’s what he chooses to repeat,” Sam states exasperated as he gets out his car door.

Dean chuckles.  He exits the Chevy.

John scoots over into the front seat.  He follows behind Dean.

Dean opens the backdoor to let John out.  He’s unaware the child hopped over the seatback.

John runs behind Dean’s back across the parking lot.

Sam intercepts the moving ball of fire as John approaches the traffic lane.  Car horns beep loudly.  Sam scoops his father into his arms just in time.

“DAD, what the hell?”  Sam bellows.


Dean gets up in his father’s face as Sam holds John.  “Dad, not funny!”  Dean states sternly.  “You wait for Sam or me before you take off.”

John smirks at Dean.

“Are you listening to me?”  Dean demands exasperatedly.

John smiles wider.

“You do that again and I’ll swat your butt,” Dean threatens.

John’s facial expression turns serious.

“Good!  Now that I have your attention, let’s eat.”

John reaches out to slap Dean but Sam turns quickly to avoid the additional confrontation.  He moves towards the restaurant.

“I saw that,” Dean informs.  “Hold up, Sam.”

Sam halts his escape.

Dean steps around to position himself in front of John.  “We already talked about the no hitting.”  Dean points his right index finger in John’s face.  “But let’s get something straight here and now.  You are going to do what Sam and I tell you to do until we can get you fixed.  You are going to follow all the same rules you taught us.  That means there will be consequences if you misbehave or are naughty.  It’s my job to keep you and Sam safe so dude, don’t push me because I will practice what you preach.  Now.  Let’s eat.”

Dean steps towards the eatery with Sam carrying John hot on his heels.  The three Winchesters make their way into the building.

“Sam, take Dad, I mean John, to the men’s room.  I’ll get the food and a booth.”

“Why do I have to take him?”

“One, because you’re holding him and two, because I always had to take you and payback’s a bitch,” Dean smugly grins.

“Fine,” Sam huffs.  He adjusts John on his hip.

“And don’t lose him,” Dean calls after Sam.

Sam turns to level a silent bitch face at his brother.  He proceeds to the rear of the restaurant.

Dean has enough time to order food and occupy a booth.  Just as he decides to go check on Sam and his dad he eyes the large figure of his brother walking down the hall.

Sam hands John off to Dean when he approaches the booth.

Dean eyeballs the front of Sam’s shirt, “What happened to you?”  Dean chuckles.

“Dad thought it would be fun to do battle with the motion sensors on the sink faucets.  I lost.”

“You sure did,” Dean laughs.

John squirms in Dean’s arms.

Dean maneuvers John into the booster seat next to him.  He pours out some fries onto his tray.  He breaks the hamburger into quarters.  He places the four pieces on the tray in front of John.

John picks up a fry.

“How did you know to do that?”  Sam inquires.

Dean shrugs.

John examines the fry.  He holds it up to Sam.

Sam grins half heartedly at his father.

John holds the fry up for Dean to see.

“Yes, Dad.  That’s for you.  You should eat it,” Dean calmly encourages.

John enthusiastically pops the lone fry into his mouth.  He chews happily.

“Again, how did you know to tell him that?”

“Dude, who do you think fed you and got you to eat all those years?  You were a princess even back then.”  Dean humorously waggles raised eyebrows.

“I guess I didn’t realize it was such a challenge,” Sam responds apologetically.

“Easy as pie, Sammy.  Besides, I must have done something right.  Look at the size of you.”

John picks up a quarter of his hamburger with two hands.  He shoves it into his mouth.  Pieces crumble away.  They fall onto the tray.

“There’s one mystery solved,” Sam grins widely.

“What’s that Dr. Watson?”  Dean inquires.

Sam nods his head towards John, “Where you got your table manners from.”

Both boys observe John as he chews the large amount of burger.  Ketchup, mustard and pickle pieces cover his chin.

The boys chuckle.

John notices he’s the center of their humor.  He opens his mouth wide to show the partially chewed food.

“Aw, that’s nasty.  Dad, stop,” Sam cringes.

“Okay Dad, quit trying to make Sam hurl.  Eat your food,” Dean reprimands.

John closes his mouth.  He blinks innocently towards Dean.

“You heard me, eat,” Dean offers John another piece of burger.

Fortunately for all three Winchesters the meal concludes without incident.

“We ready to head to Bobby’s?”  Dean states more than questions.

“ ‘Pala!”  John throws both hands in the air excitedly.

“Yeah, dude, we’re going back in the Impala,” Dean smirks at John’s enthusiasm as he lifts him out of the booster seat.  He stands him on the floor.

John bolts for the door.  He squeezes past an elderly couple.

Dean immediately reads the situation and assesses the danger.  He sprints after the youngster.  He snatches John up into his arms just as the small feet step off the sidewalk.

A car stops short.  The driver gives Dean the WTF signal.

Sam mouths, “Sorry,” to the driver as he brings up the rear.

Dean tosses John over his shoulder.  He waits for oncoming traffic.  “Dad, I can’t believe you did that.”  He tosses Sam the Chevy keys, “Wait for us in the car.”

“What?  Where are you going?”  Sam questions disconcertedly.

“Dad and I need to have a meeting of the minds before we get moving.”  He pats John on his squirming butt.  Dean walks towards the deserted picnic benches on the far side of the building.

Sam stands dumbfounded.  His mouth drops open.  He can’t fathom that Dean is about to spank their father.  Granted he’s being a little hellion but it is still dad.  Well he thinks it’s still dad.  Sam composes himself.  He walks across the parking lot to the car.  He glances over his shoulder but Dean and John are out of sight.  Sam hopes they’re out of hearing distance, also.  Dean looked pretty determined when he walked away balancing their dad over his shoulder.  Sam really doesn’t want to listen to the talk Dean is about to have with the naughty little John.  Sam’s butt has been on the sore end of many of Dean’s little talks.  He doesn’t want to think about how many times his big brother had to take defiant preteen Sam over his knees and spank his bottom.  Sam knew Dean did it most of the time so their dad wouldn’t spank him when he returned.  Neither brother was too happy about it.  But as an adult Sam knew Dean had done the best he could, and the spankings were all well deserved.  Dean didn’t give out swats freely.  Sam knew it and was thankful for that.

Sam’s thoughts return to the present.  He eases his large form into the front seat.  He continually checks the side mirror for any sign of the returning duo.

Dean chooses the farthest picnic bench.  He sits his butt on the table top.  He plants his feet firmly on the bench seat.  He wrestles John to stand between his knees.

John pulls to get free of Dean’s strong grip.

“Dad, settle down, please.”  Dean adjusts his hold on John’s biceps.

John tosses his body from left to right.

Dean recognizes a tantrum beginning to brew.  After all, his little brother Sam used to be the Prince of Tantrums when he didn’t get his own way.  Dean swiftly lifts John off his feet.  He smoothly bends the child over his left thigh.  With his left hand he grabs a handful of John’s shirt to steady the squirming youth.  Dean quickly administers three well placed swats to the center of John’s rear end.

John’s body stills when the sting in his butt registers with his brain.

Dean immediately returns John to his standing position between his knees.

John pouts.  He reaches back with his right hand to rub his hurting butt.

Dean thinks John’s pout is as good as any Sam has laid on him over the years.  He cringes when a single tear escapes John’s sad eyes.  Dean thinks, this is so not fair.  “I know you, Dad.  Not you, Dad but big Dad.  And the first thing you would remind me is that it is my job to keep you and Sam safe.  All else is gravy.  Dad, you’re making it really difficult for me to keep you safe.  You’ve got to do what Sam and I tell you.  You’ve got to behave.  I don’t know if you’re in there but little you out here is a real handful.”  Dean smirks, “I hope this isn’t pay back for all the shit me and Sam pulled as kids.”  Dean tilts his head to the side.  He studies his father’s eyes.  He attempts to pick up on anything that would give him a clue.  Finally Dean lowers his gaze.  He inhales deeply.  He raises a stern glare to meet his dad’s questioning eyes.  “Dad, we’re going to do this the only way I know how, by following your procedures.  When you don’t follow the rules there are consequences.  You’ve been naughty so you need to be punished.  I’m going to spank you.”  Dean softly adds, “Okay?”

John responds to Dean’s affirmation.  He kicks him in the shin.  He struggles to get loose.

For the second time in minutes Dean lifts John across his left thigh.  He secures the small figure against his waist with his left elbow.  Dean slides the boy’s denim trousers and briefs down below the snow white buttocks laid across his thigh.  He inhales deeply.  He raises his open right hand.  It’s been a while since he had to spank Sammy.  He didn’t care for it much then.  He’s not too thrilled about this now.  But he needs to make sure little John does what he’s told.  Dean snaps his wrist and connects with John’s presented posterior.  A slight hand print forms across John’s bare bottom.

John stills from the unexpected impact.  He cries out.

Dean spanks John’s butt until a healthy collection of rose color hand prints appear. 

John yelps!  He bawls softly.

Dean’s not exactly sure how old John is so he uses his instincts to know when to stop the punishment.  His father always says, he never wants to have to revisit the same offence twice.  The punishment should ensure there will be no do-overs.  Following his father’s dictum Dean applies three additional swats to the squirming backside.

John sobs openly.  He nosily gasps for air.  His body goes limp.

Dean breathes deeply to relax.  He gently tugs John’s jeans and briefs up over his crimson butt cheeks.  He lifts the child to rest his head on his shoulder.  Just like he would do with Sammy after he had been punished.  He soothingly pats John’s back.  “Dad, it’s okay.  You’re okay.  We’re done,” Dean comforts the crying youngster.  “I’m sorry I had to do that but it was for your own good.”  Again, Dean marvels at how much he sounds like his father, his big father.  Dean warmly rubs John’s back.

John quiets.

Dean glances to his left.  He peers into a pair of wide damp eyes resting on his shoulder.  He whispers, “Are you okay?”

John immediately pouts but continues to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean hugs John tightly.  He massages his back.  He hesitates.

After a short time John lifts his head off Dean’s shoulder. 

“Ca’mon, Dad.  Let’s go show Sam you’re okay.”  Dean pats John’s back twice.

John squirms to get down.

“Not so fast.  I’ll put you down when we get back to the car,” Dean informs.

John raises his hand to slap Dean.  He thinks about it as his eyes meet Dean’s warning glare.  He returns his arm to his side.

“Maybe that spanking wasn’t such a bad idea.  It appears you learned something from it.  Good to know,” Dean shifts John’s weight as he steps off the picnic bench one leg at a time.

Sam nervously turns around in his seat to scan the area.  No sign of Dean or John.  He checks his watch.  They’ve been gone a long time.  How long does a meeting of the minds take?  And what exactly was Dean thinking?  Sam apprehensively opens his car door.  He puts his right foot on the ground.  He turns to get a glimpse of Dean carrying John from around the building.  He springs out of the Impala.  As Dean and John approach he notices John’s red eyes and tear streaked face.  Sam stares perplexed at his brother.

John holds his arms out to Sam.

“What?”  Sam questions.

“He wants you to hold him,” Dean explains.  “He’s pissed at me.”  Dean reluctantly transfers John to Sam’s arms.  His phone rings.  He looks down at his feet, “Hey Bobby.”

“You two idjits got yourselves in a fine mess this time.”

“What do you have for us?”

“Well, the good news is your daddy shouldn’t get any younger or smaller than he is already.”

Dean glances up at the small person in Sam’s arms.

“The bad news is I’m not sure how to get him back to full size.  I’ll keep trying but until then hang tight where you are.”

“Got it, Bobby, and thanks.”

“And you idjits better not let him out of your sight,” Bobby adds quickly before Dean hangs up.

“So what did Bobby have to say?”  Sam inquires.

“Aside from calling us idjits, he said Dad should be status quo on size.  But he’s still working on how to reverse it.  He warned not to lose him.”

“What does he want us to do?”

“Hang tight.  We better find a place to lay low and regroup.  I got a feeling little John is going to be with us for awhile.”


Tags: dean spanks john
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