Chapter Text
“You’d better start bucking up your ideas, Felix,” his dad said from the front of the car, and he let himself slide further down the backseat, scowl on his face.
He knew he was technically getting off light. He’d stolen enough to land himself in some deep shit with the law. How was he supposed to know stores kept track of you until you’d taken enough for it to be worth getting you arrested? It was purely his first offender status and his dad being buddies with a cop that got him sent off to some weird reform school bullshit.
Thistledale College sounded like something out of some twee, saccharine bullshit that Felix normally scoffed over. Instead, it was some insane institution where they smacked their students around like those Ivory colleges he’d heard about. Only this time it hadn’t been his choice to go — well, it was but only to avoid being locked up for real.
Pressing his sneaker against the back of the seat in front of him, he glared all the more. His dad had been raving about this school ever since Felix had made his choice. His mom had mostly spent the time crying, questioning where they went wrong with him. Felix had been living in denial, somehow surprised when his dad woke him up and ushered him to the car that morning, despite knowing what the date of his doom was.
Now they were driving in the middle of nowhere, and an old building suddenly appeared from between the trees that had been whipping past the car.
It was pretty massive. Obviously it had always been a school at that size, and being all the way out here, it had to have been a boarding school the whole time as well. The last town they saw was far away enough that it meant just sneaking off there would be difficult. It meant he’d pretty much be trapped.
He caught sight of a few people all dressed the same as his dad made the turn onto the driveway and realised with a groan that this place had a uniform. Fucking ace. Wonderful. He’d have to look like a dweeb as well as deal with all the other bullshit this place had on offer.
“You know I don’t need you to drive me to the door,” he snapped as the tyres crunched over the gravel of the path from the road to the building itself.
“If you’d inspired more trust, kiddo, maybe I wouldn’t feel the need,” his dad replied, and he folded his arms over his chest.
Once they pulled to a stop, Felix shoved the door open and climbed out as quickly as he could. The atmosphere between them had been frosty ever since he’d had to call home and admit he was in the police station, arrested for stealing. The best thing about this place was getting to be away from his parents for a while.
As he stood there, the bottom of the steps five feet away, he heard a commotion coming from his left. Turning his head, his eyes landed on a pair of students, and was immediately locked there, given one of them was pulling the other along by the ear.
He stared, knew he was staring and that was pretty creepy, but he couldn’t stop. The guy doing the pulling, sat down on the edge of the steps, his thighs perpendicular to the ground, knees at a perfect right angle, before he tugged the other boy down over his lap, and firmly smacked his ass, ignoring the pleas being made. Felix couldn’t hear them, but the tone was obvious.
Felix jumped, somehow surprised despite knowing what that position meant and what went on here. The boy jumped along with him, before letting out a wail. Felix was at the wrong angle to see, but he could tell he was kicking his feet as that hand came down over and over, echoing across the pristine lawns.
A hand clapped down on Felix’s shoulder and he jumped again. His dad was standing at his side, the single suitcase he’d been allowed to bring in his other hand. He never felt smaller than when he pulled that shit, and despite his thundering heart from the scene in front of him, he shook off the grip and practically ran up the steps and inside.
Connor looked up from his book as someone came barrelling into the entrance with all the grace of a tornado. Short kid, dark brown hair, brown eyes, looked vaguely like a wild animal looking for how to escape their enclosure. But rather than going on a rampage, he shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets, hiked his shoulders up near his ears — which were surprisingly pink at the tips — and glared hard at the rug.
He was followed soon after by an older man with a suitcase in his hand, and his features matched the boy’s enough that he guessed pretty quickly they were father and son.
It looked like this was his new arrival.
“Mr Garcia?” he asked after tucking his book into the small shelf under the desk. “And Felix, I assume?”
“There’s a saying about assuming things,” the kid, Felix, sneered, and Connor watched as his dad glared at him but did nothing else. If that was what he was used to, Felix Garcia was about to have a rude awakening.
“My name is Connor O’Grady,” he continued, ignoring the comment until the kid was properly his problem. “I’m one of the senior students here at Thistledale and I’ll be inducting Felix into the programme.”
“Good luck,” Mr Garcia mumbled sarcastically, and Connor’s brows pulled together. It never boded well when the parents didn’t even believe in what they did or what it could do for their children.
“I can take Felix from here,” he said, focusing his gaze on the boy stood a good foot away from his dad.
He looked furious, outraged even, but under that… there was some fear there too. He was just trying to hide it with bravado. Connor had seen all types of responses from new students, and this wasn’t an unusual one. It was no harder or easier than the ones who were outwardly terrified or still scoffing right before they went over a knee for the first time. Each were different and could be managed in different ways.
“I want to hear good reports,” Mr Garcia said, turning to his son. “Take the chance of a fresh start, Felix, or your next one will be without help from your mother or me. Is that clear?”
“Jesus, Dad,” Felix muttered. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Bye.”
Connor’s estimations of Mr Garcia didn’t go up when he set down the suitcase, turned on his heel, and left without another word.
Often it was more than just the kid’s fault they ended up where they were at that moment. And he’d read the file he’d been sent about Felix — while it was the stealing that had gotten him sent to Thistledale, there were plenty of other things that would have him chafing here if he didn’t shape up quick.
“You can leave your suitcase here,” Connor said, pointing to behind the desk. “I’ll check it later and return everything you can keep in your room to you once you’re settled.”
“You are not gonna go through my shit,” Felix fumed, taking a step in front of the suitcase, hands now free and curled into fists.
“I am,” Connor said firmly, folding his arms. “You’ve been sent here because you’ve proven you can’t follow rules. All students have their belongings check for contraband, and that will include yours. If you have no contraband, you’ll receive everything back, bar any electronics we keep locked up until the appropriate times to use them.”
Felix looked ready to throw a fit, right there in the middle of the entrance hall, and he wouldn’t be the first. But then he set his jaw, shoved his hands back in his pockets and glared at the old rug again.
“Let’s get you a uniform,” Connor said, gesturing towards the corridor that led to the storage area, and was a little surprised that Felix began to walk.
“They aren’t like those freaky ones some of the Ivory league colleges have, right?” Felix asked, pausing to let Connor pass once he realised he had no clue where he was going.
“The drop flap on the pants?” he asked, and bit back a smile at the flush the words caused. “No. Here, if you need a bare bottom spanking, it’s bare. Everything comes down.”
“What the fuck,” Felix said, only turning pinker across his cheeks. “You can’t — that’s not —“
“It’s nothing any of us haven’t seen before,” Connor said. “And so can guarantee you — a little boy like you with your file and that potty mouth? Someone is going to see your naughty little bare bottom sooner rather than later as they redden it up for you, and I dare say you’ll deserve it.”
Felix spluttered for a moment, and Connor took the chance to swipe his card against the lock for the uniform storage, pushing the door open and ushering Felix inside.
Who the fuck said shit like that? What sort of place had he been shipped off to? The rush of hot humiliation had raced down his spine to settle in his stomach at being called a little boy had only gotten worse when the guy had talking about his — his naughty —
He took the escape of scurrying into the dim room and away from those feelings.
The walls were lined with shelves, and each of them was filled with piles of fabric. Everything was folded like a machine did it, not a single thing out of place. He watched as… Connor, his brain helpfully supplied once it had rebooted, went and started pulling things down. He couldn’t help pulling a face at the shirts and burgundy sweater, the dark grey slacks, and then he once more felt his face flame as a pack of white briefs was added to the growing pile in Connor’s arms.
“I’ve got my own underwear,” he snapped.
“And here this will be your underwear,” Connor replied, glancing at him. “You don’t want the alternative to these. Trust me.”
Felix scoffed. Why the hell would he do that?
“You’ll wear each item of your uniform correctly and neatly every time you leave your dorm room. Failure to do so will result in a punishment,” Connor said, giving him a sharp look. “Senior students and staff both have the privilege to perform uniform checks. If you fail, your tie will be taken until the end of the day. Any student without a tie will be subject to punishment from their class teachers.”
“So, what, I don’t wear something and you fuckers force me to break the rule for the rest of the day?” he asked, a flame of fury in his chest.
“You shouldn’t have broken the rule in the first place,” Connor said. “The subsequent consequences just reinforce the lesson.”
Felix felt like he had so many words crawling up his throat about that, that they all got stopped there.
“You’ll see your tie is red and your sweater is plain burgundy,” Connor continued, as if that massive unfairness of a rule was perfectly reasonable. “That means you’re one of our reformers. The volunteer students have blue ties and blue accents on their—”
“People choose to come here?” Felix asked, interrupting him. “Are they insane?”
Connor’s eyes narrowed and his gaze grew sharp.
“If you say something like that about a fellow student again, Felix Garcia, I will wash your mouth out for you,” he said. “This is a reform school, but it is also a Lifestyle college. I let go the comment you made earlier about the Ivories, but know that chance is now gone. People get to be who they want to be here, if this is the place they choose. Some want the harder side we offer, some want the discipline, some have other reasons entirely. What you will not do is shame them for who they are, or I will personally see to it that sitting comfortably becomes a distant memory for you. Is that understood?”
The whole thing was delivered in a calm, stern tone that no one had ever used on Felix before. He’d been yelled at, ranted at, all that shit, but no one had ever treated him like… like he had been naughty. Like he was the little boy Connor had called him, and while he’d misbehaved, it could be corrected, whether he liked it or not.
Swallowing, he nodded his head.
“Good,” Connor said with a firm nod of his own. “You’ll quickly learn I don’t make empty threats. Keep that in mind.”
Chapter Text
Connor kept piling things up until finally he put it down on a table in the middle of the room. Felix watched him warily as he picked out individual items, and then a pair of shoes and a pair of slippers.
“Put these on,” he said, holding out the clothes and shiny black shoes.
“Uh,” Felix said, stalling even as his hands took them automatically. “Where?”
“Here,” Connor said, gesturing. “I want to be able to pack up your things for storage before I show you to your room.”
He looked around the room, hoping a door to somewhere more private might appear since he last checked. Alas, it remained four walls and various shelves, but not much privacy.
“I won’t look, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Connor said, a twitch of the corner of his lip giving away his amusement.
“You might,” Felix shot back. “For all I know, that’s why you’re here.”
He’d quickly noticed after Connor’s explanation that he had the blue tie and blue bands around the wrists and neckline of his sweater signifying he had applied for this school. He’d chosen to come here. And he’d been here long enough to be trusted with initiating new students all alone. Felix didn’t have any experience of college, but that felt like something pretty important.
“Here, I’ll turn around,” Connor said, doing it at the same time until he was facing the opposite wall, hands on his hips. “I promise not to look.”
Felix shifted from one foot to the other, but figured he wasn’t going anywhere unless he did as he was told. It kinda seemed like the philosophy of the whole place. Do as they said or else.
He kicked off his shoes, already mourning them. He hadn’t noticed, but they even gave him new socks. Jesus.
He managed to get everything on — he’d give them one thing, everything was made of nice shit. Thick like it was quality. The sweater wasn’t itchy, just soft as he ran his fingers over it. The pants were weirdly stretchy, but he figured it made them more comfortable than any dress pants he’d ever worn before. There was just one problem.
“I, uh,” he said, clearing his throat. He hated admitting weakness, but he didn’t have a choice. “I don’t know how to tie this.”
The red tie lay limp in his hand, and he held it away from himself a little, as if it would rise up like a snake and bite him.
“You decent?” Connor asked, not moving. “Okay with me looking?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Felix mumbled, and he finally turned around.
He felt Connor’s eyes appraising him, raking up and down. It didn’t feel invasive or like when other guys would look like that at him because they thought he was hot, just… thoughtful.
“You need to tuck your shirt in,” he said, walking over and taking the tie.
Felix waited for him to show him how to tie the damn thing, but then realised Connor wasn’t going to do anything until he did what he wanted. Scowling, he lifted the sweater slightly to shove the shirt into the top of the slacks, making furious eye contact the whole time. Connor didn’t react, just waiting expectantly.
“Alright,” he said once Felix was done and his sweater was back in place. “First, you need to lift up your shirt collar.”
Before he could do it himself, Connor’s fingers were at his neck, pulling the shift material so it stood up, and wrapping the tie around his neck.
“You want the thicker side to go over the thinner one,” he said as he did it, voice softer now. “And then back under and over again. Pull it behind up through the top here and now down through the loop. Tighten it by pulling and then tuck your collar back down.”
Having his fingers so close, his entire body mere inches away, Felix wanted to fidget. Connor was taller than him — what was new? — and normally he hated it. But something about the older body teaching him this, and the gentle way he did it, didn’t feel patronising.
“And now,” Connor said, grinning mischievously. “Your turn.”
He immediately whipped the tie down and off as the knot undid itself, and Felix jumped as it escaped from under his collar.
“Hey!” he protested. “What was that for?”
“I can’t tie it for you every day, Felix, you need to learn to do it yourself,” he said, holding out the tie again. “Show me you were paying attention.”
Felix unfolded his collar again, the edges brushing at his ears. He snatched the tie from Connor’s hand and laid it around his neck, thick side on his right, the way he’d just been shown. He hesitated then, eyes quickly glancing up at Connor, who nodded.
His movements were a little unsure, especially after only being shown the once, but every time he checked in with Connor, he got a little nod, and eventually he had a — much messier, but fuck it — tied sitting at the top of his collar.
“Well done,” Connor said, tweaking it a little to straighten it. “Keep practicing and you’ll be a pro. Now, tuck that into your sweater, fold up your other clothes and we’ll get you to your room.”
It took everything in him not to fight against the instructions, to just do as he was told, but that little ‘well done’ was zapping through his body like electricity. Managing to put on a piece of clothing didn’t really feel worthy of praise, but it was so rare he got any that it would seem he’d take anything he could get.
“Every reform student is placed with a volunteer,” Connor said as they left the storage room, leading him towards a staircase at the far end. “You’re rooming with Alfie. He’s a freshman too, but started at the beginning of the summer, as some of our application students do. Let’s them settle in without worrying about anything else. You’ll also have a dorm supervisor. That’s me. Any trouble you get into in class will result in a punishment from me. Trouble at school, trouble at home still applies, even if they’re both the same building.”
Felix bristled, just about biting back a comment. He had the feeling there were going to be a lot of stupid, unfair rules like that, and he wasn’t keen to learn if Connor really was serious about the threats he’d made. Something was telling him Connor O’Grady wasn’t the type of guy who joked about that kind of thing.
The longer he followed the older boy, the more convinced he was that he would get just lost every time he went anywhere. It was one of those buildings so old that the layout was utterly insane, all twists and turns. How Connor seemed to know where he was going, Felix had no clue, but eventually they came to a stop at a short corridor with four doors on either side and one at the end.
“This is your dormitory group,” Connor said. “Two boys to each room, and then my study and room at the end. You’ll be in here.”
The door he went for was directly next to his, the one on the left hand side, and Felix could have groaned aloud when he got a look at it.
Plain, boring. Boring wooden furniture — the bed frames, nightstands, desks and closets all matched. There was a lamp and old fashioned alarm clock on one nightstand and a book on the other. It was one of the only signs that the room was also occupied by someone else.
“You have a bathroom through that door there,” Connor said, pointing. “I’ll bring you some pyjamas after dinner. Lights out at nine thirty. Any nonsense after that and it’ll be a trip to my study and you’ll be sleeping on your stomach. Your alarm is set for six thirty. Breakfast at seven, classes start at eight. Lunch at twelve thirty, then more classes until three. Study time from then until five thirty, dinner, and then some free time from six thirty until bed, unless you’ve got a prior punishment scheduled. You’ll be inside the building by eight and in bed by nine, ready to go to sleep at nine thirty.”
Felix wasn’t sure he could actually remember all of that, and his head swam with all the numbers. What really got him though was having to go to bed at nine thirty, like a little kid.
“What if I’m a night owl?” he said, dumping the uniform items he had on the bed he guessed was his.
“Then you’ll quickly find yourself becoming an early bird,” Connor said. “Your student handbook is in the top drawer of your nightstand. Read it thoroughly, because you will be presenting yourself to me after dinner to go over it. I will be quizzing you and it would be in your ability to sit’s best interest to answer all of my questions correctly.”
“Do you ever say anything that’s not a threat?” Felix retorted, and then, before he could really comprehend what had happened, there was a loud smacking sound and a sharp pain bloomed on his ass. “Ow!”
“I told you earlier, little boy, I don’t make threats, I make promises,” Connor said, now standing at his side as Felix furiously rubbed at the sting with both hands, it quickly dawning on him that Connor had just swatted him. “And there is plenty more where that came from if you want another taste.”
He shook his head, feeling his bottom lip sticking out but finding himself unable to pull it back in again.
“You are here to learn to behave, Felix,” Connor said, voice lower now and placing a hand on the back of his neck. “The faster you get your head around that, the better. Understand?”
His eyes had widened at the heavy, warm palm just lightly squeezing below his hairline. It took a moment for his mouth to catch up with him.
“Yeah,” he croaked.
The hand squeezed harder.
“A ‘yes, sir’ wouldn’t go amiss in your time here, Felix,” Connor said softly.
The little voice in his head that normally argue, fight against any attempts to get him to submit to any for of authority, was silenced.
“Yes, sir,” he said instead, just quietly echoing what he’d been told to do and instantly feeling a hot sense of shame in his gut, his teeth gritting as he came back to himself as soon as the hand left his neck.
“Good boy,” Connor said, and he clamped his mouth shut to hold back any response he might have to that. “Now, I’m going to go check your suitcase for you. I’ll get Alfie to bring it up for you once I’m done. I would suggest you put your things away — neatly — and get to reading.”
It was pretty hard to focus on studying when Alfie knew his new roommate was probably upstairs at that very moment, and the curiosity was killing him. But he had chosen Saturday study blocks for his schedule, and that meant taking them seriously. He may get more leeway than the reformers, but the leash was still short. And at a level three, he really didn’t want to drop to a two for bunking off a voluntary study block, when he had some privileges he didn’t want to lose.
His roommate, he knew, would start on as a level one. There was still space for them to drop — but zeros normally only lasted for a week or two before they worked as hard as they could to get back to a one. Alfie had only heard about a handful of boys who had ever been on a zero, and it had sounded pretty miserable.
Still set his stomach twisting at the idea. Bedtime spankings every night while you were at a zero. Top ups every morning. Needing to be lead everywhere by a buddy. The slightest infraction being cracked down on. He didn’t think he could handle being bad enough to really get there, but he’d thought about it a lot.
He’d especially thought about who might be assigned to keep him under control. Peter Michaels, best friend of his dorm supervisor, Connor O’Grady, would be his first pick. Alfie saw the senior often enough over the last few weeks and blushed enough each time that the guy probably thought he just had a naturally red face. He’d had a crush since the first time he’d seen him in Connor’s study, when he’d turned up for a bedtime spanking for missing a piece of homework in his first week. Having a spectator to his punishment had only made the moment imprint on his mind all the more. Peter had passed him a tissue once he was all back together and squeezed his shoulder, and Alfie had been gone.
He’d never say anything, too chicken shit to do something like that, but it didn’t hurt anyone to fantasise.
“Alfred,” a stern voice called, and he realised he was daydreaming, immediately sitting up straight and feeling his face flush.
“Sorry, sir,” he said.
“Eyes on your work, or I’ll give you something to help you focus,” Mr Richards said, the professor in charge of the Saturday study sessions that week. He was fair but when you pushed him too hard, you regretted it, and at that moment, he was walking up and down the room with a small paddle in his hand.
“Yes, sir,” he said, catching a few of the others smirking, even with their heads still down over their own books, and he shifted in his seat slightly as he did the same.
Getting lost in his thoughts wasn’t exactly unusual for him. It was partially why he had chosen to attend Thistledale, and why he’d taken the option offered to volunteer students to give up his summer break to settle in. The semester was about to start on Monday, but Alfie had been there since June, taking a few elective classes to get a feel for the school. It also gave everyone the chance to back out and apply elsewhere if it turned out to not be for them. A few faces had disappeared, but most of them remained. And soon their half empty classrooms would be filled with those who hadn’t made the choice to come to Thistledale.
He shifted in his seat again, forcing his eyes to read the line in his History textbook for the third time.
Chapter Text
The top drawer of his nightstand did indeed hold a chunky, spiral bound thing emblazoned with a watercolour illustration of the school on the front, and ‘Student Handbook’ written in cursive underneath.
Felix had already shoved the clothes into the closet, not really caring about how ‘neat’ it was. If Connor wanted something done a certain way, he could do it himself. His shoes were also in the middle of the floor where he’d kicked them off to lay on his bed — which was surprisingly comfortable. He’d pulled off his tie again, and undone the top button of his shirt so he could breathe. Now there was just to skim through this tome he was expected to memorise. Fat chance of that.
He’d been given a basic layout of the rules and philosophy of the school when the option was presented to him. He knew this place, like other Lifestyle colleges, favoured corporal punishment over anything else. He knew he’d be treated like a little kid for stealing some shit no one would have ever missed. And while Connor may have gotten him to say ‘yes, sir’ earlier, he was determined not to make it that easy going forward. It was just because it was all new that he caved. That was all.
Flipping through the pages, he read about the level system they had. Zero to five, but freshmen couldn’t get to five at all, that was reserved for juniors and seniors. The higher you went, the more freedom you had. The volunteers started at a three — they could wear their own clothes at the weekends and evenings, had access to their phones and computers for two hours in the evening, could go into some of the recreational areas without a chaperone. But he’d been automatically started at one, just one step above the most restrictive of all of the levels.
Our reformers have already proven themselves unable or unwilling to follow rules, and so we believe in starting them in a position that will best allow them to adapt and relearn. The details of your level as a reformer is listed below.
Having to wear the uniform all the time, unless in his dorm. Only getting to use his phone for an hour on a Sunday. Any rule broken, no matter how small, resulting in a punishment. It all made him want to throw the damn thing across the room. But he had a feeling that even damaging the stupid handbook would only get him punished.
A line a little further down the page caught his attention and made his stomach twist.
As a reformer, you will be punished during your time at Thistledale College. You’ve been sent to our institution to learn not only how to behave going forward, but also to be punished for what you have already done. It is up to you how much extra correction you require. Choose wisely.
Eyes narrowing, he scowled.
The door opening had his head shooting up, firing that same look at the blond kid standing in the doorway, his face flushed and in the stupid uniform — but his had the blue accents that Connor’s did. He’d wanted to come here. Urgh.
“What do you want?” he asked, already sulking.
“Um,” the guy said, looking down at the bag in his hands and then back up at Felix. “Connor asked me to bring your stuff? I’m Alfie.”
Right. The roommate.
He swung his legs off the bed and tossed the handbook aside, striding over to take the small bag. It wasn’t everything that had been in his suitcase — there were some of his clothes, his bag of toiletries, pens and paper and general school stuff. But there were a few things missing.
“Where’s my phone?” he asked, glaring at Alfie and wondering if it had been stuffed into one of his pockets.
“Locked up in Connor’s study, probably,” the other boy replied, looking offended. “I thought you were meant to have read the handbook?”
“So he stole my fucking phone?” he said, letting out a harsh laugh. “That’s sure a good message to send.”
“You agreed to hand it over when you accepted a place here,” Alfie said, turning and going to sit on his bed. “It’s not our fault if you didn’t read the fine print.”
“You little —”
“Boys.”
Both of them turned to look at the door, finding Connor leaning in the doorframe and giving them both what Felix could only describe as a Look. He glanced at his roommate out of the corner of his eye and saw him looking down at the floor, a dusting of pink high across his cheeks.
“Do you two need some help learning to get along?” he continued, looking between them both. “I’ve found nothing like a shared experience bonds two people together. Want to test that?”
“No, sir,” Alfie said quickly, shaking his head.
Felix’s eyes narrowed. Goody two shoes. Great.
“What about you?” Connor asked, turning the full force of his gaze onto him.
“No,” he ground out, leaving enough of a pause for it to be on the edge of disrespectful, smirking a little. “Sir.”
Connor didn’t say anything, just strode into the room, took the bag from Felix’s hands, sat on his bed, and tugged him right down over his lap. Before Felix could really comprehend what had just happened, a hand cracked down on his ass, and he quickly learned how little protection the uniform gave him. His gasp was swallowed up by the sound of Connor’s hand coming down again.
“You will be polite to each and every person you interact with while you are a student of this school,” Connor scolded as he swatted all over Felix’s backside, firm smacks that left behind sting that seemed to threaten to overcome him. “You will answer questions promptly and politely and without the sneering expression.”
Felix flailed a little, totally caught off guard. He’d caught himself with his hands and he could touch the floor with his toes, but most of his weight was being held by Connor’s thighs. Honestly, he wasn’t able to concentrate on the position he was in all that much, given the distraction of being spanked like a little kid.
“The very first rules in the handbook are on expected student behaviour, and for how long you’ve been in here, I’d expect you to have read it and taken it in already,” Connor continued, a flurry of swats landing first on Felix’s right cheek and then the left.
“Ow!” he protested, wriggling his hips to try and avoid that hard hand, to no available. “That hurts!”
“It’s a spanking, little boy, it should hurt,” Connor replied, before suddenly his right knee was hitched up and Felix felt even more off balance, falling forward a little more, and his toes leaving the floor. It also pushed his backside straight up in the air and he growled out his frustration. “You should be grateful that I’m being nice enough not to bare your naughty little bottom for this. Because I am very much considering it.”
Things were taken lower then, and it turned out having his thighs and the area where he sat spanked was even worse. Throwing back a hand, he tried to protect himself, only to hear an annoyed huff, have his wrist grabbed, and then forced to the middle of his lower back, now locking him in place. He could kick, but little else — even squirming was harder now. He hadn’t even been able to reach.
“Alfie, I want to borrow your hairbrush, as Felix here doesn’t have his own yet,” Connor said, still not pausing. “I think he needs to learn that trying to prevent a punishment will only ever make it worse.”
He’d somehow forgotten he had an audience, and he wasn’t sure if it was being upside down making his face feel warm or humiliation.
“Yes, sir,” he heard Alfie say quickly, and he glared hard at the floor rather than watch.
Connor slowed, but didn’t stop, and somehow he was managing to swat him even harder than before, making a low whine escape from Felix’s mouth without his permission.
“When you misbehave here, Felix,” Connor said, pausing only for a moment before something even harder tapped against his ass, “you will be punished promptly for it. Wherever you are. And if you can’t take your punishment like a good boy, then you can experience something a little more unpleasant.”
Given his ass already felt like it was on fire, throbbing with the beat of his heart, Felix couldn’t see how that was possible. Until, of course, whatever Connor had crashed against his backside with a crack. He couldn’t help letting out a wail, the noise only growing when it came down again and again.
“Are you going to keep being rude to me, Felix?” Connor asked, focusing once again right where he’d be sitting, where his butt turned into thigh, and tears stung his eyes.
“No!” he yelped, and then two swats came in immediate succession, and he realised his mistake. “No, sir!”
“That’s better,” Connor said, but he didn’t let up. “That’s the kind of thing I want to hear the boys in my dorm saying. You will be polite and kind and courteous.”
Each of those words were accompanied by the hardest swats yet, and Felix felt totally overwhelmed. Not just the pain, because fucking hell did it hurt, but also having the response to what he had done being absolutely immediate. The whole thing made his head spin, and he didn’t even notice his cries had turned to sobs at some point, forceful enough to make him choke on them occasionally.
“I’m sorry, I’m re—ow—really sorry!” he somehow managed to get out.
“Alright,” Connor said, and he realised with relief that it was over, hanging limp over the older boy’s knees. “You’re forgiven now, Felix. You took your punishment. Up you come.”
He didn’t know what those words meant, just that those hands were somehow getting him to stand up before pulling him back down to sit, and holding him in place when he tried to squirm away as soon as he made contact.
“No, little boy, you’ll sit here and get some comfort,” Connor said, guiding his head towards a shoulder. “And if you’re sitting on a very sore bottom, that’s your own fault.”
He wanted to rage against being treated like this, just tossed over someone’s knee and smacked until he was hiccuping with his tears. But Connor’s arms were warm and firm around him, squeezing but not too tight. And he was patting rhythmically against his hip, and that was kinda nice. Even if his ass throbbed and burned, he was man enough to admit he quite liked the hug he was getting, even as he shifted, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position.
“The adjustment is hard,” Connor soothed as his breathing started to calm, just hitching every now and again. “And you’ll probably end up sleeping on your stomach more often than not as you settle. But this place will do you some good. You can be a good boy, Felix. We’ll help you.”
He rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand, letting out a little grumble.
“Pass Felix a tissue, please, Alfie,” Connor said. “And then you can take down your pants ready for your punishment.”
“Connor,” Alfie whined, and Felix glanced at him to see his face looking firetruck red.
“Were you being a nice boy to Felix?” Connor asked in return, and Alfie shifted from one foot to another before shaking his head. “And you’ve had weeks here. I know you know how to behave, and that means you’re facing a bigger consequence. Now, tissue and pants down. If I have to do it, I’ll be fully baring your bottom for you.”
Alfie seemed to hop to it at that threat, grabbing a tissue from a box and passing it over, before his fingers hesitated at his waistband.
“Do you need some time in the corner, Alfie?” Connor asked, pressing the tissue into Felix’s hand. “Shall we show Felix what happens to boys who don’t follow instructions?”
“No, sir,” he squeaked, immediately pushing his slacks down.
“Good boy,” Connor said. “Lay on your tummy on your bed while I finish up with Felix. You just think why you’re laying there in your underwear with your pants around your knees.”
The other boy scrambled to do as he was told, quickly hiding his face in his pillow. The bright white of the briefs made it kinda hard to look away from his backside, and it was only a finger under Felix’s chin guiding his gaze away that had him looking back at Connor.
“Clean your face up,” he said softly but firmly. “Then I want you in the corner while I deal with Alfie.”
“That’s not fair!” Felix croaked. “He got to watch.”
“I trust him not to make fun of anyone being punished,” Connor replied. “You are an unknown element. I won’t have him distracted by you when he should be focused on learning his own lesson. Now, any more tantrums, and you’ll be spending that time in the corner showing off just how red your bottom undoubtedly is. Is that what you want?”
He shuddered and quickly shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Alright then,” he said, patting Felix’s knee, and squeezing him around the shoulders with his other arm. “Wipe your eyes, blow your nose and then off you go. Let’s not leave Alfie waiting too long.”
Chapter Text
He was wishing harder than he ever had in his life for the ground to open up and swallow him.
Somehow, this was ten times more embarrassing than Peter watching him get spanked that one time. To lay there, not fully bare but obviously waiting for a punishment… it made him feel small. But not totally in a bad way, which was just very confusing.
And Connor was right, he did know better than to fall to Felix’s level by speaking to him the way he had. He had to share a room with him for the academic year and getting off to a bad start within five minutes didn’t bode well. Hopefully he was also right about shared experiences bringing people together, because otherwise things were going to get even more awkward. Alfie was meant to be a role model and he was already failing at that.
Sniffling as quietly as he could into his pillow, he jumped when the bed dipped and a hand came down to rest on his back.
“Do you understand why you’re in trouble, Alfie?” Connor asked softly, and he turned his head slightly to look at him out of the corner of his eye.
“Yes, sir,” he mumbled, looking down again rather than meeting his disappointed gaze. “I was rude.”
“Yes, you were,” Connor agreed, patting his bottom and making him whine. “And you’re going to get a spanking and then it’s all forgiven. Alright?”
It took everything in him not to kick his feet against his mattress. If Felix hadn’t sassed Connor, he likely wouldn’t be getting a spanking at that moment. But he just sighed, deep and long into his pillow and nodded his head without looking up again.
“Up on your feet then, let’s not put this off,” Connor said, and the pat was much closer to an actual swat that time.
It was completely undignified, trying to get up off his bed with his pants down, half shuffle, half clambering. But he managed it, even if he still wanted the ground to swallow him up, and he gulped a little at the sight of his hairbrush in Connor’s hand, knowing his initials were hidden under his fingers. His closet held all sorts of personalised implements, although most of them hadn’t been used yet.
“I expect better from you, Alfie,” Connor said, and that had his stomach feeling like it was full of rocks, his heart sinking. “You’ve been a good boy. You are a good boy. But you haven’t shown that to Felix, have you? He’s meant to learn from you. If you can’t handle that, I need you to let me know.”
He shifted from foot to foot, immediately regretting it when it just made his pants fall even more. And he knew better than to go after them, having no choice but to leave them where they were.
“I can,” he whispered, desperately wanting to prove himself. “I can do it.”
“Then let’s give you a fresh slate to start from,” Connor said, placing a hand on his back to guide him over, setting the brush aside for the moment.
Bracing himself on his fingertips and toes on the floor, Alfie closed his eyes when he felt Connor’s palm rub across the seat of his underwear. The other was splayed over his back, almost between his shoulders. He tried not to tense as the hand lifted from his butt, but he still couldn’t help the surprised gasp and jolt forward caused by it landing sharply again. He curled his feet up slightly, normally one to lock down before he ever started flailing. Felix had obviously tried to wriggle right off Connor’s lap from the start, and Alfie could have told him that would be useless.
Connor continued to fan the flames as he worked steadily around Alfie’s backside. The briefs they had to wear left the lower parts of his cheeks and all of his upper thighs completely vulnerable when they rode up slightly as he bent over, and he whimpered when attention was moved there.
“You may receive more leeway than Felix does, but that doesn’t mean you get to ignore the rules,” Connor scolded. “If you cannot say something nice, what should you say?”
“N—ow!—nothing!” he yelped, quickly grabbing onto Connor’s leg to keep from attempting the same thing Felix did.
“Exactly,” Connor said, steadily spanking his upper thighs, and making him let out the most embarrassing little squeaks and whines. “If I hear you being rude, I will march you into that bathroom and I’ll wash your mouth out. That goes for both of you, is that understood, Felix?”
“Y—yes, sir,” came a quiet voice from somewhere behind him, sounding a little shell shocked. Yeah, things got real once you were stood in a corner with a freshly spanked bottom, Alfie could attest to that.
Now he couldn’t help drumming his toes against the floor, biting down hard on his lip as Connor sped up, his hand seemingly made of oak. Or maybe it was just years of studying at Thistledale. Maybe it was made of normal skin at first, but over time, it had transformed.
“We’re almost done,” Connor said, and that just had his chin wobbling, knowing exactly what was coming, and the first swat with his hairbrush just pushed them over the edge. “I’m just gonna leave you with a reminder for lunch of what happens to naughty boys who are rude to each other.”
Alfie kicked fully now, holding desperately to Connor’s leg with both hands, howling when the brush made the older boy’s displeasure known on his sit spots.
“C—connor, I’m so-o-o-orry-y-y!” he wailed, letting go of all sense of pride of it would save his butt from more.
“Who else should you apologise to?” Connor asked, slowing to just be more precise in where the back of that evil brush landed.
“Fe-e-eli-i-ix,” he sobbed. “S-sorry!”
Two more swats, right to the fleshiest parts of his cheeks, and then the brush was gone, and Connor was lifting his briefs a little to check on the skin underneath. Alfie squirmed, embarrassed, but unwilling to fight if it had been decided he’d learned his lesson.
“Felix, get me a tissue for Alfie, please,” Connor said, smoothing his underwear back, the cotton trapping the heat of his scorched skin. “C’mon, Alfie, your turn for a hug now.”
He scrambled up as best he could, feeling like a newborn foal trying to get its legs under itself. But he knew he didn’t want Felix getting a good look just yet, and he promptly sat down on Connor’s lap and hid his face, gripping him tightly. Arms came around him, holding him close, cradling him like he was something important. Something worth caring for. It was something he deeply appreciated about Connor, and why he was glad to be in his dorm — he spanked hard, but he also made sure to give the comfort needed afterwards.
“All forgiven now,” Connor soothed. “You’re a good boy. It’s okay to have a hiccup, okay? It just means you need someone to help you get back in place. And there are a lot of people who are going to do that here.”
Alfie ate the words up, sniffling and trying to catch his breath. A tissue was pressed into his hand, and he wiped at his eyes and face with it.
“You can sit down now, Felix,” Connor said, and Alfie could hear the amusement in his voice. “Or you can lie down, if that would be more comfortable.”
Alfie heard a huff, and the creaking of the other bed. Deciding to risk it, he peeked out at his roommate. He caught Felix glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as well, before he hurriedly looked away, lying on his stomach.
“Now, I’m gonna let the two of you make up and get off on a better foot,” Connor said once Alfie could breathe a little easier, even if his nose was still blocked. “I will come and get you for lunch in a bit. No more naughtiness, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Alfie whispered, hearing it echoed quietly across the room.
“You good?” Connor asked, voice low enough that Alfie knew it was just for him.
“Mmhmm,” he hummed, nodding and rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand, and then ducking a little when his hair was ruffled. “Connor!”
“Sorry, am I ruining your street cred with the new kid?” he teased.
“A little,” he said, playfully folding his arms over his chest. He may have just been punished, but Connor made him feel safe enough to play back at him.
“Behave,” Connor said, taking his chin and giving it a fond squeeze.
Once Alfie was on his feet, slacks pulled back up over his throbbing backside, Connor looked critically at them both, before he slipped out of the door.
Listening to someone else get it wasn’t nearly as fun as he might have imagined when Felix came to the realisation that it was really his fault they were in trouble. His ass fucking hurt, and Alfie had had even less protection than he did.
Once Connor was gone, it took him a moment to work up to saying something. Sharing a room with a guy who hated him was gonna be real fun. So, the faster he could try and fix this, the better. Problem was he’d never been much of a people guy. He managed to float between friends, not seen as a loner but not really that close with anyone either. One of the therapists his parents forced him to see after the whole… stealing thing, they had said that maybe his lack of human connection had caused it. Felix was still trying to figure that one out.
Either way, it didn’t help him current predicament.
“Hey, um,” he said, still looking at his pillow, feeling heat on the back of his neck and his face. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Alfie sighed, and that surprised him so much he looked up, catching the other boy gingerly rubbing his butt. “He was right. I do know better.”
Turning onto his side, he lifted one eyebrow. “Aren’t you mad at me?”
Alfie paused and looked at him, cocking his head to one side. “Why should I be? Getting punished isn’t exactly unusual around here, even if you do behave. It was bound to happen eventually. I’m sorry I was being a dick.”
Felix felt uncomfortable. He could deal with people being mad at him, he knew all the tricks for that. Well, he thought he did. He might need to learn some new ones here. But being weirdly accepting and nice about him just getting both of their asses beat? What was he meant to do with that?”
“I was a dick first,” he grumbled.
“Yeah,” Alfie said. “You were. But this is all a lot. I should have kept that in mind. I got to think about all of this before signing up for it. You didn’t. So… I’m sorry I was a dick.”
“‘S okay,” he said, confusion still whirling in his chest.
Alfie kicked off his shoes and joined him in lying on his stomach. Felix watched as he shifted a bit, wincing, before he sighed deep and long into his pillow.
“You ever…?” Alfie asked, gesturing towards Felix’s lower half without looking up.
“No,” he said, face hot.
Alfie let out a huff that sounded close to a laugh, and normally Felix would be pissed at being laughed at. But he just got the feeling this wasn’t being laughed at. Just… commiserating.
“You think you’ll get used to it,” Alfie said. “But you don’t really. Or I haven’t anyway.”
“Why would you choose something like this?” he blurted, instantly wishing he could take the words back. It wasn’t exactly helping his image — but then Alfie had just seen him being spanked to tears for the very first time.
Alfie was quiet for a moment, one foot lifting and waving in the air as he seemed to think about it.
“I struggle to motivate myself?” he said, phasing it a bit like a question, and not looking at him. “And I lose things or forget stuff all the time. And I knew if I went to a normal college, I’d flunk out. This place offered me the structure I needed. And, I guess… I like the stricter side. Always have thought about it, always wanted it.”
It looked like he was about to say more but then suddenly snapped his mouth closed. It was more than Felix had expected him to say. Honestly, he’d half expected to be told to fuck off.
“Honestly, though, Connor’s a good one to get your first spanking from,” Alfie said. “He’s got a mean swing, but he’s cool about it. And he’s good at not making you feel like a huge baby for needing some comfort afterwards. He’s alright.”
“He could hit less hard,” Felix said, rubbing his own ass. The sting had died down a little, but the heat and ache remained.
“What do you think would happen to him if he did that?” Alfie asked, a small amused smile on his face when Felix looked over. “He’d just get it twice as bad. ‘Sides, he actually cares about helping us. He’s been here long enough to know how best to do that.”
“You actually believe in all this, then?” he asked.
“Well,” Alfie said, flipping face first into his pillow again. “I haven’t forgotten my homework again since the first time. So, yeah. I do.”
They didn’t say much more after that, and Felix was kinda glad Alfie hadn’t dug into him about why he was there. He’d expected about ten thousand questions — his roommate had the look of a guy who’d never broken a rule in his life. Felix had read that in the handbook when he’d skimmed through it, that all students who applied had to have exemplary behaviour records. That, as they would be ‘role models’, they had to have a proven track record of following the rules.
Slipping off to the bathroom, he washed his face, removing the remnants of his tears before checking he’d locked the door and taking a look at the damage to his ass.
From how much it had hurt and the brief look he’d gotten of Alfie when getting a tissue for him, he’d expected to be bright red. A beacon you could land fucking planes with. But instead, his skin was just a dusty pink. Warmer to the touch than normal, tender, but not as bad as he’d expected. He still wasn’t looking forward to sitting down, though.
Chapter Text
Connor shook out his hand as he made his way to the Senior Common Room. The founder of Thistledale had been British, attended British boarding schools and so had based his college on the system. And with the small amount of students, it meant each got a common room, as well as each dorm having its own study area and living room. But he wanted to give the boys some space. Hopefully he’d come back to peace and not a further fight.
“Oof, that rough getting your new kid settled in?” Peter called upon seeing him and Connor rolled his eyes fondly and went to sit next to him.
“I walked into him and Alfie having a disagreement,” he explained, knowing Peter remembered the other freshman from watching him get one of his first spankings. It was Connor’s preference that he have a witness for the first time, although he’d never mentioned it, even to Peter. It gave him peace of mind.
“And how many more of you got to get settled in?” Peter asked, nudging his shoulder.
“Three,” he said, going over the names in his head. “And another volunteer freshman who opted not to start early, and he’s the twin of one of the reformers. Another of them got kicked out of RBU and sent to us. Luckily my other two are juniors and should know what they’re doing, and will give me a hand.”
Peter let out a low whistle.
“You gonna be able to handle all of that alone?” he asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. It was something that made him love his best friend — he could tease until the cows came home, but as soon as shit got real, he had your back.
“Vaughn asked me the same thing,” he said, stretching his fingers a few more times. “And I’ll tell you what I told him: I’ll be absolutely fine. I’ve been studying for this for two years now, remember?”
Connor had arrived at Thistledale with the plan to major in Disciplinary Arts. And that was exactly what he had declared in his sophomore year and been working towards ever since. The dean personally spoke to all of the seniors he’d picked out to be dorm supervisors, to make sure they would be willing and able to handle the challenge. It was one thing leading the study groups Connor was used to, to suddenly being in charge of eight people pretty much all the time.
“Besides, I might have six freshmen, but two of them are volunteers,” he said. “I can do this. If I can’t, I promise I’ll ask for help.”
That had been a lesson he needed to learn when he first arrived, and he figured he’d done pretty well at it, actually. Enough for the dean and head of the Discipline department to ask him to take on some leadership roles. He felt ready to prove himself.
“You ever need someone to help you spank those naughty little bottoms, you know who to ask,” Peter said with a wink and a grin.
Connor shoved his face away, and their conversation moved on.
He’d arranged for each of his newbies to arrive at staggered times. Felix had been first, and the rest would arrive through the afternoon. He just had to get the two he already had through lunch.
Glancing at the clock, he sighed and stood, stretching some of the stiffness from his spine, grimacing as it cracked. He really needed to get back to the gym. His place outside of Thistledale really wasn’t close enough to make going regularly worth it, and the facilities they had on campus would hopefully get him back up to standard before too long.
“Good luck,” Peter said. “I hope they didn’t kill each other in your absence.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he replied, flipping Peter off just as he slipped out of the room.
The more he talked with Felix, the more Alfie relaxed. He’d been… well. Terrified. He wanted to do a good job, do his part in helping someone turn their life around. But the idea of sharing a room with someone who might have gone to prison had freaked him out. Felix had rough edges, but he didn’t seem all that bad. Swore like a sailor, which he’d warned him wouldn’t go down well, but was otherwise an alright guy.
“Hey,” Felix said, pulling him from his thoughts, and the book he’d picked up from his nightstand. “You said earlier you could escape this uniform bullshit at weekends. Why are you still in it?”
“I have a study block on a Saturday,” he said. “Gotta wear it for that. And, honestly, I’m used to it now. Getting changed half way through the day doesn’t seem worth it. If it was more uncomfortable, maybe.”
Besides, while the briefs and slacks of the uniform locked in the heat of being spanked, he didn’t want to consider the roughness of denim on his skin as an alternative. He’d seen some others walking around in their own things, but he’d been waiting to come here for some time. He was going to keep wearing the uniform.
“How do the points work?” Felix asked not long later, actually reading the handbook properly.
“If you earn enough, you move up a level,” Alfie explained. “You need more points to move up the higher you go. You get ‘em for getting an A on a test, for effort in class, helping people. That sort of stuff. You also lose them for misbehaving.”
“How does anyone keep track?” he asked, and while Alfie didn’t know him well, he could practically see the gears turning in his head on how to game the system.
“A note is made on your online record,” he said. “And in your report card. Connor checks them before bed every night to make sure they match.”
He leant down and pulled his own blue report card from where it was slipped into an outside pocket of his bag. It was just a piece of card folded in two, with the school logo and his name on the front, and the days of the week inside. Opening it, he checked there was nothing too embarrassing on it. He lost two points for talking in class on Thursday, but he’d also gotten six cumulatively through the week. Sighing with relief, he passed it over for Felix to look at.
“Connor gives us a new one at the start of every week,” he said, and he shifted as he decided to explain something else. “And you get a paddle swat from him for every point you lose.”
“So he got you on Thursday?” Felix asked, having instantly zoned in.
“Yeah,” Alfie admitted, grimacing as he remembered the two sharp swats. “If you thought his hand was hard, imagine him with a full size paddle.”
“What do you get for gaining points?” he asked, and Alfie laughed.
“The joy of not losing them,” he said with a grin. “Well. No, Connor will praise you. And he keeps candy in his desk drawer as a reward. He’ll probably ask you for your favourite soon. But the idea is meant to be that you learn to improve for the sake of being better, not for a reward. Also, you do get a reward, it’s just after you earn enough points. You get to go up a level, and that comes with more freedoms.”
A light knock came at the door before it opened and Connor’s head poked in.
“Good, you’re both still alive,” he said with a grin. “Ready to go down to lunch, my little troublemakers?”
“Connor,” Alfie complained, but he couldn’t help a small smile. Connor’s teasing helped him know they were back on an even keel, that things had been smoothed out.
As he stood, stretching a little, he noticed that Felix didn’t move.
“C’mon, Felix, that means you too,” Connor said, voice still light.
“I’m not hungry, thanks,” he replied, eyes still focused on the handbook laid out on his pillow.
“You’ll be coming, even if you don’t feel hungry,” Connor said, stepping fully inside. “We don’t skip meals here. If you’re not feeling well, you’ll need to go to the infirmary. Otherwise, you are free to eat or not, but you will be present at meals. Want me to make that a more uncomfortable prospect for you?”
Alfie watched as colour crept up Felix’s cheeks, which he puffed out in a look of annoyance. Glancing between the pair, he knew exactly who was going to win here, but he had no clue how hard it would be to get there.
Felix wasn’t even sure why he was arguing. He hadn’t eaten any breakfast, and he felt ready to devour an entire banquet table. But something in him was telling him to argue, and it was easier to give into that, to fall back on the familiar, than just do what he was told.
“You could just go down to lunch and fuck off,” he said, and heard a small gasp from his left — obviously Alfie.
“Alright, Felix, I hear what you’re asking for,” Connor said calmly.
Too calmly.
In the next moment, he was tugged up off his bed by a strong hand and landed heavily back over Connor’s knee. And just as he was getting his head around his sudden change in position, fingers grabbed the back of his waistband and yanked.
The weirdly stretchy material of the slacks abruptly made sense as Connor cracked a hand down on his now bare backside without having to undo a single button or zipper. Felix growled and tried to push up, but Connor just firmly pushed him back down again with a hand in between his shoulders.
“I’d like to borrow your hairbrush again, Alfie,” Connor said, disapproval clear in his voice. “Felix is proving his set will be put to good use once it’s given to him.”
“Nooo!” he whined, kicking his feet involuntarily at the idea of feeling that brush again, and with no protection this time. “I didn’t mean it!”
“You still said it,” Connor scolded, and then something hard snapped against his skin, and any arguments he was formulating disappeared because his mind couldn’t think of anything but that. “You do not speak to people the way you just spoke to me. That is disrespectful and vulgar, and we do not accept such behaviour.”
Each of the emphasised words were accompanied by an especially hard swat — in between other, still hard, swats — right to where he’d be sitting. He yelped and whined and let out the most mortifying squeal, and soon tears were running down his face before he could stop them.
Never had he been made to feel so small. Even when he was spanked earlier, he hadn’t appreciated what a difference getting to keep his clothes up had made. Now he just felt like a naughty little boy getting punished for misbehaving, far more than Connor’s words calling him that had done. It should have made him furious, should have made him fight, but instead he just sniffed hard and felt sorry for himself.
At one point, he found himself shifted forward until Connor could lock his leg down over the backs of Felix’s calves, holding them down as he went to town right were his ass met his thighs, and he just wailed, not having a clue what to do with his hands other than knowing not to reach back.
“Do we need to keep discussing your atrocious behaviour?” Connor asked sternly, and Felix fiercely shook his head. “If we weren’t about to be late for lunch, I would be marching you into that bathroom, with your pants around your ankles, and thoroughly washing your mouth out. Just know, young man, that unless you shape up over the rest of the day, we can repeat this lesson at bedtime and you can go to bed with the taste of soap on your tongue. Is that understood?”
“Y-yes, siiiir!” he cried, as the brush came down two more times.
Connor must have put aside the brush, because the next thing Felix felt on his scorched, throbbing skin was a hand.
“You do not speak to anyone like that,” he said softly, as Felix wiped at his messy face with his hand. “Not a student, not a member of staff — no one. It will not be tolerated, and if I have to punish you again today, it will be reported to Dr Yates. And given he’s in charge of all freshmen and their discipline, I think he’d definitely have something to say about how you’ve been acting.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice wobbly and croaky.
“I’m letting you off lightly, Felix,” Connor said, and then his legs were free and his clothes were being righted. “Don’t make me regret it.”
It didn’t feel like he’d gotten off lightly. It felt like he would never sit again, that his heart had permanently moved from his chest down to his butt, and that he’d been stung by bees all across his ass and thighs. But Felix didn’t say any of that, just let himself be manhandled until he was balanced on Connor’s knee again, having his hair stroked and an arm wrapped around his shoulders.
“Alfie, run down and tell them we might be a minute,” Connor said. “I think Felix needs to catch his breath.”
“Yes, sir,” came the quiet reply, and Felix couldn’t bring himself to look at his roommate — who had just seen him be punished for the second time that day.
After the door clicked shut and they were left alone, he waited for it to feel awkward. But instead, Connor just continued to hold him as he calmed down, going from sobs to hiccups to just hitched breathing. He had no idea he was such a crybaby, and he felt more heat rush into his face at the realisation.
“I know I told you before that consequences would be immediate,” Connor said softly, still just rhythmically running his fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with his fingernails. “But it’s normal for that to take a few goes to stick. You and your behaviour are cared about here, deeply. And that means we’re going to care when you mess up. You are going to be noticed here, kiddo, I promise you that.”
Something about those words had his eyes prickling again, and he quickly hid his face against the senior’s shoulder.
“When you’re ready, you’re going to go clean up your face and we’ll go down to lunch. I’ll make the excuses for us, okay? We’ll get some food in you, and that should help you settle a little. You’re not the first boy to get a few punishments on his first day.”
“Did you?” he asked softly, interest suddenly piqued.
Connor chuckled. “Yeah. I came here with some ideas that were quickly proven wrong. Only I got it directly from the dean.”
Felix had only seen a picture of the man in the brochure and the handbook, and frankly, he was good with that being as close as he got. The man looked like the type of guy who ran a spanking school and did it with precision.
“You good now? Ready for some lunch?” Connor asked, and Felix bit back a sarcastic comment about his ass never being good again.
Huh. Maybe there was something to this whole thing. Not that he’d be admitting that to anyone.
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing at his itchy eyes.
“Alright then,” Connor said, helping him to his feet. “Go wipe your face and we’ll head down.”
Chapter Text
Alfie was sitting at the long freshman table, a few new faces — some of them flushed and the owners shifting in their seats — already present. He’d murmured an explanation of Connor and Felix’s lateness to Dr Yates on his way in, who nodded and told him to take his seat. It wasn’t the most comfortable proposition, but Alfie didn’t really have much choice. When Connor told you he’d give you something to feel during lunch, he meant it.
He’d only taken two bites of his sandwich when Connor walked in with a hand on the shoulder of a reluctant looking Felix. His face was still blotchy and once he got closer, Alfie could see that his eyes were red. He definitely wasn’t the only one in a reformer uniform having obviously been punished.
The handful of boys that had been filling the front desks of the classrooms during the summer had expanded. There were never too many students at Thistledale from what Alfie had read before applying, to make it easier to keep an eye on all of them. Soon he knew he would know each of their names and probably what had landed them there. He already knew all of the other application students, the ones who had wanted to come here.
“Sit,” Connor said once Felix was standing across from Alfie.
There were four long tables in the cafeteria, one for freshman, one for sophomores, and so on. And each had a long, hard bench to sit on. From the state of Felix’s bottom when Alfie had left, it wasn’t going to be fun lowering himself down onto it.
“I don’t want to,” Felix whined softly, probably only audible to the two of them.
“Either you sit down and eat your lunch, or you go stand against that wall with your bottom on display to show why you’re not sitting down,” Connor said, pointing at a plain wall at the end of the room. “So everyone can see your bottom is too well punished for you to plant it on the benches. Is that what you want to do, Felix?”
Alfie watched as Felix shook his head, eyes wide.
“Then you’re going to sit down and eat your sandwich like a good boy,” Connor said, gesturing to the tray of food laid in the middle of the table.
Alfie watched as he bit his lip, before he slowly, cautiously climbed into the bench, wincing with a whimper once his backside made contact. He shifted from side to side, trying in vain to find a comfortable position before giving up and just grabbing a sandwich.
“Well done,” Connor said, ruffling his hair even as Felix ducked his head.
“Connor, time to go to your own table, please,” Dr Yates said from the end of the table, but there was a smile on his face.
“Yes, sir,” the senior replied, offering Alfie a little look of encouragement before he headed off to the seniors’ table.
Felix’s shoulders were hunched as he first picked at his food and then realised that it was actually good. After that point, he was taking large bites.
“You okay?” Alfie asked softly once he’d slowed down again.
“What do you think?” he replied, but there was little heat behind it. “F—Really hurts.”
“Looked it,” he said, finishing off his own sandwich. “I warned you swearing at Connor wouldn’t end well.”
“Remind me to listen to you in future,” Felix grumbled, screwing his eyes shut as he shifted again.
“At least you’re not alone,” Alfie said, gesturing vaguely further down the table. “And some of the guys who started with me were sore their first day too. It’s kinda hard to believe they’ll do what they say they will until you feel the follow through.”
Alfie had managed to avoid it for a week, and according to some rumours he’d heard that was almost a record.
“At least your report card doesn’t start until Monday,” he said. “So you won’t lose any points. Dean Vaughn will explain everything when he gives a talk tomorrow.”
“Let me guess,” Felix drawled, “no cushioning on those seats either?”
He let out a small, breathy laugh. “No. Definitely not.”
Peter met his gaze with mirth, having watched the little show of getting Felix to actually sit down.
“Had some trouble?” he asked in commiseration.
“You could say that,” Connor replied, grabbing some food for himself. “I’m really hoping the next few are a bit smoother going.”
“For the sake of your arm, I hope so too,” Peter said.
Connor glanced behind himself when the freshmen were released, watching Felix jump up and start to rub at his thoroughly spanked bottom. Good, it served him right for telling him to fuck off in that tone. Connor knew he’d get push back, and he didn’t take it personally. He just dealt with it. Alfie gave him a look of commiseration, and the pair of them went off together, heads towards each other.
Checking his own watch, he stood to make his way to the foyer to take in his next student.
Phillip — Pip, he immediately corrected with a wide cheeky grin — was the next up. He’d been enrolled in Rosie Baughm the previous year but a combination of terrible grades, bad behaviour and general disorder had gotten him sent to Thistledale rather than flunk out all together. He’d have the chance to transfer back if he managed to do well, but he needed to repeat his freshman year.
“Thank god these don’t have the flap,” he said as he checked over the uniform.
“No, these ones are just elasticated to make pulling them down to bare a naughty bottom even easier,” Connor said with a grin, biting back a laugh at Pip’s visible swallow and the red tips of his ears.
He gave Pip the same spiel he’d given Felix, and thankfully got no backchat about it. The joys have already adjusted to a school with spanking.
Knocking on the door of the dorm he would be in, Connor opened it to find the junior he’d picked to room with Pip and basically be one of his deputies.
Ryan had gotten good grades last semester, earned himself a few awards at the end of the year for his behaviour, and had passed Dean Vaughn’s interview to help with the organisation of the dorms. He was sporty but didn’t play anything past a hobby level, and so his attention could firmly be on his roommate. Connor would still be ultimately responsible, but he felt comfortable delegating.
“Ryan,” he said. “This is Pip. He came to us from RBU. Pip, this is Ryan, one of our top junior students. He does have disciplinary privileges over you, and he will report to me if you’ve needed his attention. I’ll be checking his work as well. I’d like you two to spend some time getting to know each other.”
Pip’s smirk did not bode well for his ability to sit comfortably.
The next reformer was actually quite timid. Quiet and looking at everything with wide eyes, Connor had the feeling Quincy had been sent here more because his parents wanted him here and less because he was truly in need of their programme. Although his file said he had a very bad habit of breaking into places he shouldn’t be.
He’d chosen Declan to pair him up with. One of the softer boys who’d chosen Connor’s same major, he could see him doing well by Quincy’s quiet nature.
The last pair were the ones he was truly concerned with. A set of identical twins, Spencer and Charlie, one having chosen to come to Thistledale and the other having been busted for weed that immediately pulled his own application only for it to be resubmitted as a reform student instead. Their documents had provided an easy way to tell them apart, and unlucky for them, it was a birthmark on Charlie’s upper thigh that Spencer didn’t have. Which meant the easiest way to check would be to get them to drop trou and bend over. And it also put them in the perfect position to deal with any mischief.
They kept nudging each other and whispering, and it was only applying his hand to their bottoms that got them to hush up and listen to him properly. The set of pouts, also near identical, made him feel tired already of whatever pranks they were going to try and pull.
He’d have to brainstorm some ideas on how to nip any issues in the bud before they could get too out of hand.
He’d put them next to his own room, with Ryan on the other side and Declan on the diagonal. Hopefully that was enough coverage. He might have to think about swapping Spencer to a different dorm if they eventually proved they couldn’t behave when together.
The time he was done, he was collapsed in the armchair in his study. He heard the sound of a spanking coming from a nearby room, and the yelp — while still new to him — was definitely that of Pip rather than Quincy. He rolled his eyes but felt comforted that his estimation of how things would go had been correct. Now he just felt like sleeping for the next twelve to eighteen hours until he had corral the freshmen to the dean’s talk in the morning, where the reformers would also get their personalised implements. He was looking forward to having something on hand if he needed to wrangle them, rather than having to borrow from one of the other boys.
A knock as his door about twenty minutes later had him letting out a little breath before pushing back up to his feet.
“Yes?” he asked once it was open, seeing a sulky looking Pip and determined Ryan.
“Pip has something to show you,” Ryan said, giving the younger boy a slight nudge into the study.
Connor stepped aside to let them in, and noticed a few attempts to hide a sniffle as Pip stormed in.
“This is so unfair,” he grumbled, rubbing at an eye.
“I warned you,” Ryan said, unbothered. “Take ‘em down and bend over while I speak to Connor, and he can see if you need any more.”
“Why can’t I wait until he wants to look?” Pip whined and Connor watched as Ryan gave him a look.
“Because I told you to,” Ryan said, before Connor could say the same thing, and he watched as Pip stomped his feet as he turned around, shoved his slacks and briefs to mid thigh and bent over, bracing his hands on his knees.
His bottom was bright red, and especially focused at his sit spots. Ryan had done a fair job of imparting a message, whatever that message may be.
“Come in properly and tell me what happened,” Connor said, closing the door behind them.
—————
Felix followed behind Alfie after getting a full tour of the building from him. Neither of them had been ordered to their rooms, so actually getting some idea of the layout of the place before having to run around it to find his classes on Monday seemed like a good idea.
While it gave the impression of antiquity, a lot of the fixtures was up to date. The science labs and computers on offer were all modern, as was the card swipe system. Alfie explained that their schedules would be programmed into the locks, meaning they could only get into certain rooms when they were meant to be there. The volunteers would also have more freedom than the reformers — Alfie could access the computer room if he wanted to, while Felix would need a chaperone.
“How’re we meant to ‘integrate into society’,” he said, putting sarcastic air quotes around the words from the brochure, “if we’re not allowed to go anywhere?”
“You will be allowed,” Alfie said. “Eventually. Either by moving up a level or finishing the year. You get more trust the longer you’re here. Even the senior reformers have more privileges than I do, ‘cause they’ve been here and gone through the programme.”
Felix rolled his eyes and had the distinct impression he was going to chafe against some of these rules.
“And this,” Alfie said, opening a door on the same hall as their room, “is the dorm common room.”
It wasn’t a very big space, but there was a fireplace, and comfortable looking armchairs around it. One wall had a line of desks, similar to those in their room. A TV was shoved into a corner — old looking, but serviceable enough, Felix supposed. At least they weren’t expected to live like cavemen. Well, he thought, remembering his phone, not completely like cavemen.
It was going to be a long year.
Chapter Text
Felix was glad to see he wasn’t alone in waiting outside Connor’s study that evening, finding the other freshman members of the dorm there too. Other than Alfie, of course, since he’d gone through this when he first arrived — proving he’d read and taken in the rules from the handbook. All of them were in their pyjamas, and Felix was already wary of the slippers he’d been given after hearing a few more of Alfie’s stories. The firm sole on them seemed ominous.
Two of the other boys were identical — obviously twins. One had blue pyjamas, the other red, and he wondered what the story was there. Not enough to make him want to break the silence they’d all fallen into. Of the other two, one was stood still with what Felix could only call a pout, and the last couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting.
“Felix.”
He hadn’t even noticed the door opening, the hinges obviously well oiled. Starting, he looked over at Connor’s expectant face, and noticed what looked like amusement in his eyes.
“You were here before the others today, you can go first,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing him inside.
Making the walk past the other boys, he tried to ignore the feeling of their eyes on him. It felt a little like what he pictured a walk to the gallows would feel like, like nothing good was going to come from being on the other side of that door.
Felix wasn’t sure what he pictured Connor’s office looking like from Alfie’s stories, but it was more… homely than he expected. It wasn’t a very large room, but it had a fireplace with two chairs set around it, a large desk with neat piles of paper, a window with a seat covered in pillows, and there was a door that he assumed lead through to Connor’s actual bedroom. And on the wall above the desk was a collection of shit Felix just knew were used to make misbehaving students regret their actions.
“Did you read your handbook, like I asked?” Connor said as he closed the door, making Felix jump again.
“Yeah,” he said, before heat flushed into his face. “Sir.”
“Good,” Connor said, and he had no clue if that was to having read the stupid thing or remembering to be this place’s version of polite. “I’m going to ask you some questions. If you get one wrong, you’ll get a penalty. Bend over the desk.”
“Why do I gotta bend over already?” Felix asked, hating the whine in his voice.
“Because it should put you in the right frame of mind,” Connor said, looking less than impressed. “If you want to be bare bottomed for this as well, keep arguing.”
He glared but he very much wanted to keep all of his clothing right where it was, thank you very much. It took him a moment, embarrassment rushing through him, but he managed to force his upper half to bend over Connor’s desk, folding his arms and resting his cheek on them to look at — okay, glare at — the older boy.
The opening questions were thankfully easy, ones he could probably guess even without cracking open the handbook even once. It was when they got into the harder ones that he knew Connor was getting increasingly more surprised. He’d plucked a paddle down from the wall and occasionally span it in his grasp, making it twirl. The movement mostly stopped when he got into the nitty gritty, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth eventually.
“You got a photographic memory or something, Garcia?” he asked, a lighter tone to his voice than the earlier questions, and Felix let out a breath.
“Something like that,” he admitted. It was how he’d always breezed through his classes in high school, and also how he’d remembered where the cameras were in his normal haunts. Bastards had put up new ones to catch him out, hidden better than the normal set.
“Well then,” Connor said, patting his backside with his hand, which made him jump. “I expect you to be my best behaved freshman this year. Given you can remember all the rules so easily.”
Felix almost let out an audible groan. He’d basically just fucked himself over. If he’d thought ahead, he’d had pretended to struggle on some of the harder questions — but the need to show off had overridden his sense of self-preservation. And now he couldn’t pretend to have forgotten as easily as the others. Not when a quick glance at the rules would instantly remind him.
“But I’m still gonna give you a taste of what to expect if you break them,” he continued, making Felix’s head whip around.
“But that’s not fair!” he argued, going to push himself up from the desk and finding a firm hand between his shoulders to push him back down again.
“You’re here to learn to be better,” Connor said, tapping the large wooden paddle against Felix’s still sore ass. “But also for punishment. You’ll get spanked whether you earn it or not, especially while you’re a level one. Be glad it won’t be as often as a zero. I’d also normally give you a good spanking on a Sunday, but I’ll let you off this week. Don’t make me regret it.”
He grit his teeth, internally raging against the feelings of unfairness swirling in his chest.
“I was just gonna give you one,” Connor said. “But after that little outburst, you can have two. Stay in position or we’ll be repeating swats. I also want a nice, clear count from you. Show me you can behave.”
Stomach twisting with anticipation, even just the tapping had sent still aches through his skin from the earlier treatment with the hairbrush, he tried to make his body like stone.
“Don’t clench,” Connor chided, keeping his hand on Felix’s back. “It’ll just make it worse. It’s just two.”
“Easy for you to say, ow!”
While he was talking, Connor had quickly cracked down the first swat, and it was like stinging electricity broke out across his ass. Unsure what to do with his body, he slammed his palm down on the desk, gasping and letting out a high keen for a second before clamping his mouth shut.
“The count, Felix,” Connor reminded him, voice gentle.
“What?” he asked dumbly, blinking back the tears that had welled in his eyes.
“I need you to count,” he said. “Just ‘one, sir’ will do.”
Swallowing thickly, he felt the tears spill over against his wishes and whispered, “One, sir.”
“Good boy,” Connor said, and the praise almost made him cry harder. “One more.”
Shaking his head did no good, and he felt the hand press down harder on his back, the paddle tap once, twice and then pull alway. The second swat had him wailing, it breaking through the last of his defences. If he hadn’t already been through so much that day, Felix was sure in the back of his mind, that he’d have been able to take more than two measly swats with a paddle without crying like a five-year-old. But he’d already been sore before walking in, and he found his face just pressed into the wood of the desk.
“Ow,” he wailed into the wood, stamping his feet as best he could to try and help dissipate some of the sensation, although it didn’t work. “T—two, s—s—sir.”
“Good boy, Felix, you did well,” Connor said, leaning over him and rubbing his back in large soothing circles. “It’s been a lot today, huh? I know. It’s hard. It’s good for you though.”
He shook his head fiercely, and he growled a little at the chuckle he got in response.
“You’ll find out pretty quickly that it’s much easier to deal with a sore butt than any of the other consequences you might have had coming to you,” Connor said. “When you’re ready, come up here for a hug.”
“What?” he asked, sniffling and wiping at his face with one hand.
“You get punished here, but you also get comfort and aftercare,” the senior said, stroking his hair. That shouldn’t have felt as nice as it did. “Each and every time. You read that in the handbook.”
“Didn’t know that meant all these hugs,” he grumbled, and Connor just pulled him upright and tugged him into his arms.
For a moment, Felix just stood stiff, still not used to so much touchy-feely shit happening. But Connor was large and warm, and just like the other times he’d been spanked that day, he couldn’t help melting into his hold after a few seconds, pressing his face against the soft fabric of his sweater. A few new tears leaked out, but he figured if Connor kept making guys cry like this, he was used to the extra laundry.
“You did well tonight,” he said, rubbing Felix’s back. “I know it’s hard, but it’ll get better. Mind the rules and your manners, try your best, and I think you’ll do just fine.”
Felix huffed, ready to slink off and feel sorry for himself. But he didn’t wrench away, just lessened his own hold until Connor got the message.
“Send the next one in for me,” he said, and Felix grimaced at the idea of them seeing his face, knowing how blotchy it would be, but made no protest. “Goodnight, Felix. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night,” he replied, clearing his throat after speaking and turning to go.
When he opened the door, he glared as the other boys there jumped back. It was obvious they’d crowded around to listen to what they could from within, and that idea didn’t sit well with him. All sorts of retorts and responses welled up in his head, more than a few involving his fists — but he definitely did not want another meeting with Connor that day that involved his backside. Three was more than enough.
So, for once, he made the smart choice.
“He wants you to go in,” he said stiffly, picking one of them at random to focus on. The cocky looking one lounging against the wall, a small smirk on his face.
“‘Kay,” he said, pushing off the wall. “Sounded like he got you good. I’m Pip. Came from RBU.”
The other heads turned to look at him, curiosity clear on their faces.
“Yeah, I’m not here to listen to your life story,” Felix said, enjoying the flicker of annoyance that appeared in the other boy’s eyes. “Hope he gets you as good as he got me.”
Slipping past them all, he was glad to find the room he shared with Alfie was quiet, his roommate laid on his bed with a book. His eyes lifted at the appearance of Felix, and they softened with sympathy.
“I got four wrong on my first night,” he said. “Hurt like hell.”
“I didn’t get any wrong,” Felix said, crossing the floor and flopping down face first on his mattress. “He said I still needed a taste though.”
“Ouch,” Alfie said, and he saw the wince when he turned his head. “He doesn’t use that paddle often though. Only when you really mess up. I guess that’s what he means.”
“Goody,” Felix said flatly.
Alfie went quiet, letting him just marinate in his thoughts. Hugging his pillow, he let the pain in his butt just wash over him. He felt annoyed and frustrated and — and — and more relaxed than he had in months. Kicking his feet experimentally against the bed, some of the fire reignited and he buried his face into his pillow, not wanting Alfie to see. Felix had noticed it earlier. While he hated the entire time being over Connor’s knee or being paddled, the feelings after weren’t so bad. Being held after wasn’t awful either.
Eventually he climbed to his feet to go and get washed up for bed. Having a bedtime like a little kid made him bristle, but he wasn’t about to incite further ire that day by breaking the rules about being in bed on time.
After his earlier examination, he took another look at his ass, tugging his pyjamas down and twisting to see in the mirror. His eyes widened at what he saw.
The earlier deep pink had been replaced by a definite red, and when he bent a little, he saw darker spots down low. A push of his finger told him that the heat he felt was real and also that sitting for whatever the schedule had in store for him tomorrow was not going to be fun. With a low hiss, he pulled his clothes back into place and slipped out back into the main room.
Alfie, thankfully, was focused on his book again, and didn’t ask any questions. Despite the way they started that morning, Felix was kinda glad to have a guy like Alfie to share his room with. It could have been worse, some of the other boys had been placed with upperclassmen as roommates. At least he didn’t need to worry about Alfie spanking him.
Chapter Text
The next morning, Felix still felt tender at breakfast, but it looked like he wasn’t the only one. He recognised the boys he’d seen outside Connor’s study the night before, some squirming more than others. Both of the twins seemed incapable of sitting still, and received a Look from the teacher sitting at the head of the table that had them both blushing. From the amount of people sitting around the room, it wasn’t exactly a large school.
“Soon I will be taking all of you to the Dean’s welcome speech,” the professor said — Dr Yates, Alfie had told him in a hiss on the way in. “I expect all of you to show him the respect he deserves. You are to listen carefully. Anyone not doing so — fidgeting, talking, anything of the sort — will be pulled aside for punishment. Do I make myself clear, boys?”
There were nods and murmured agreement all around, even if a few exchanged incredulous looks. Despite the treatment they all received the day before, it would seem some of them still needed confirmation of what they’d gotten themselves into.
After their meal, the entire freshman cohort, both reformers and volunteers, were escorted to a hall with chairs laid out and a small stage at one end. Alfie seemed familiar enough with the place, and Felix had decided his best bet was to just stick with him, so he slid into a seat beside him.
The seat on his other side was taken by the boy who had shied behind the others the night before, his wide eyes looking around the room like something was about to bite him. Felix wondered what he’d done to end up in a place like this, but he didn’t get long to ponder before their attention was called to the front of the room.
“Gentlemen.”
Heads all turned to look at a man now standing at a podium on the stage. A hush fell over the room at the sight of him.
He was a large man in his fifties, as far as Felix could tell. Dark hair that was greying at his temples, and he had a moustache that would probably look ridiculous on most men, but seemed to make sense on him. His dark suit was perfectly pressed and fitted, and he cast his eye seriously over his audience.
“My name is Dr Hector Vaughn,” he said, a small microphone on the podium picking up his deep voice and amplifying it. “I am the dean of Thistledale College. This is an institute that prides itself on its ability to shape naughty boys into men willing to give back to society.”
There were more than a few shifts at his wording, and Felix felt his face warm slightly.
“To that point, most — if not all — of you will have had a taste our particular brand of discipline used to adjust your behaviour. Through thorough research, my staff and I have discovered the best way to kerb a boy’s bad behaviour is to give him a sore bottom. You will discover our other methods as you continue on your journey with us.
“Those of you sent to us to as an alternative to other consequences will quickly figure out that Thistledale is not a get out of jail free card. You will leave our institute with a degree and the skills needed to turn your life around, but you will also be punished for your misdeeds as a matter of course. Each week, at the very least, you will report to someone for punishment. In most cases this will be your dorm leader. This will be regardless of your behaviour during the week. Don’t think this is carte blanche to misbehave otherwise — you will quickly learn what a bad idea that would be.
“To our students who have chosen Thistledale as their Lifestyle college of choice — welcome. Some of your faces are already familiar from the summer you’ve spent here, which is always pleasant to see. Your time here will give you the tools to face tough situations with a steady head and provide you with the support to reach your potential. We take your choice to come here with pride, and we hope you get as much out of your time here as you can. Now, your positions are also very important: you are to be role models. As such, we expect your behaviour to be exemplary. Despite your choice to study with us, this does mean you will also face punishment for any infractions, the same as your reform colleagues. Keep this fact in mind.
“Each and every one of you has the potential to go on to a successful life and career of your choosing, no matter how you came to be sitting before me. This is our core belief. It may be hard, and you may not like it, but we will do our utmost to set you on the right path for you. Myself and your teachers are all here to support you, as are your fellow students. Make us proud, make your loved ones proud, and most of all make yourself proud.”
It felt like a space where there would normally be applause, but a stunned silence seemed to permeate instead.
“Following your dismissal here, anyone without a set of implements will be given them. These are yours to keep, and will follow you through your time here. Care for them well. Thistledale is a college, but we have found that the best way to encourage reformation of thought and behaviour is through emulating the likes of younger institutions. Much as the adage goes: behave like a child, and we will treat you like a child. You will be taken into several class groups, where further explanations of how we work will be given, and you may ask any questions you might have.
“Welcome to Thistledale, boys. Good luck.”
Without another word, Dean Vaughn cast his eyes over them one more time and walked off the stage.
Whispers broke out immediately, only ended when Dr Yates, the faculty lead for all freshman students, ordered silence. Something about the commanding tone of his voice had him being followed almost instantly, the entire room hushed again.
“Right,” he said, standing with his hands on his hips. “Listen up for your dorm number. When your number is called, you’ll go with the teacher calling it. Stand up and quietly make your way over once all numbers have been read.”
A different man stepped forward, a pair of glasses perched on his nose and a clipboard in his hands.
“Don’t they believe in women here, or something?” Felix muttered to Alfie.
“Garcia!” Dr Yates snapped, sending a bolt down his spine to be caught that fast. “No talking — unless you’d like to come up here for more direct instruction?”
The threat was veiled but only thinly. Felix quickly shook his head.
The man with the clipboard began reading out numbers, and it was only a nudge from Alfie that had him remembering they were dorm six and so amongst the first to be called up. When they were all gathered around him, Felix saw there were about fifteen of them all together, made up of three dorms.
“Let’s go, lads,” the man said, revealing a British accent and a no-nonsense voice. “I’ll lead the way. Keep up.”
He took them down several corridors, until they arrived at a classroom. Trooping inside, Felix noted he wasn’t alone in looking around.
It was wood panelled, much like the rest of the building. God only knew how many trees had to give their lives to coat every inch of this place in wood. The desks were also matched with uncomfortable looking wooden chairs, and he pulled a face at having to sit on one. But what really drew the eye was the peg board at the front of the room, with various implements hanging on it. Paddles large and small, as well as what Felix recognised as a cane and… a tennis shoe? He’d never come across it before, but given its company, he could guess its purpose.
“Take a seat, boys,” Clipboard Man said, approaching the front and quickly tapping out his password on the computer so that it came to life with a presentation with ‘Professor Dickinson’ on the first slide as they all sat down, some more willingly than others. “I appreciate this is a lot of information all at once. It’s one thing to read the brochure and your handbooks, and quite another to find yourself in the midst of it all. So, first things first, my name is Professor Dickinson. I have already heard all of the jokes about my name so making any will only get you whacked, I’m afraid, no matter how inventive you think you are. I will be your first point of contact when it comes to the faculty. Get yourself into enough trouble and you’ll answer to me, then Dr Yates and finally the Dean himself. I’ll be working in conjunction with your dorm leaders, and also I’m the head of the English department here at Thistledale. Any immediate questions?”
“So this place is a college?” a voice asked, a blond boy in the reformer uniform.
“That it is,” Professor Dickinson said, coming around his desk to lean against it. “We may be structured closer to a British boarding school, but we’re also fully set up as a college like any other. You’ll be taking gen ed classes and eventually working towards a major, and a minor if you want. And I will only be letting go speaking without raising your hand go this once, as I hadn’t told you all about the rule yet. Break it again and there’ll be a consequence your backside will not enjoy.”
Before anyone could protest, he tapped the keyboard and they were presented with a short list of rules.
They were simple, but read more like classroom rules for little kids than in a college class. Felix grimaced as he realised they hadn’t been kidding about treating them like children. Stuff about raising their hands and asking permission for things and listening to their professors. Basic stuff, at least.
“Of course you’ll be following the general school rules,” Professor Dickinson said. “But you’ll also be following the class rules too. Any other questions? Yep.”
He pointed at a boy sat in the row behind Felix, and he turned to look at him.
“We’ll have designation tests like other Lifestyle colleges right?” he asked. “What if we test as Tops?”
Felix turned back to Professor Dickinson, already having a feeling about what the answer would be.
“Then your education schedule would include Top classes,” he said. “But otherwise, you’d still be treated exactly the same. And speaking of your designation tests, that’s our next order of business. You’ll take them today, and receive the results on Friday. In the meantime you’ll attend several general seminars and lectures, before your schedule is finalised for next Monday.”
He ran through a few more matters of business before he went through a door behind his desk to what must have been a store room, returning with a cart covered in cloth bags.
“Each one of you will have your own set of implements,” he explained. “If a senior or member of staff ask you to fetch one, this is what you’ll get. They all have your initials and the year of issue on them. Of course some may break or wear out with use, but all are designed to last at least a year. Any intentional sabotage will result in immediate and unpleasant punishment. You’re expected to keep at least one on you at all times, and you’ll be told which at the start of each week depending on the week before. Right, I’ll call out your names and you can come up and grab them.”
When it was Felix’s turn, his stomach clenched. From the day before, he knew a hairbrush was inside at the very least, since Connor had used Alfie’s on him. Professor Dickinson handed the bag over and it let out a wooden clanking noise as whatever was in there shifted about.
He’d said something to everyone who had gone up so far, but too low to hear. Now it was his turn.
“Nice to meet you, Felix,” Professor Dickinson said, and the smile he gave looked genuine enough. But it took him off guard, and he snapped his eyes up, looking for a trick.
“Oh, um,” he said, when he realised there wasn’t one. “Yeah. You too. Sir.”
“Go sit yourself down again,” he said, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Feel free to have a look at what’s in there. They don’t bite unless someone’s wielding them.”
Felix must have made a face, because the professor let out a little laugh, and just pointed him back to his desk.
Upon sitting down — still not the most comfortable thing to do, shit — he opened the drawstring and peered inside. He was right about the hairbrush; one was sitting nestled inside, and when he squinted at it, he could see ‘FG’ on the handle along with the year. As well as that, there was a paddle that was a similar shape but slightly larger, a belt coiled up, and a black gym shoe similar to the one hanging up behind Professor Dickinson’s desk.
“Apologies to those of you already familiar with all of this,” Professor Dickinson said when everyone was seated again and the cart was empty. “But I’m just going to go over the levels and points system. We have six levels here at Thistledale, and what level you’re on dictates what privileges you have, as well as any discipline you require. Our application students all start at a three. This is the highest a freshman can reach, as we trust them to be able to begin on their best behaviour.”
He switched the slide on the presentation to an explanation of what level threes got to do. More time with their phones, wearing their own clothes and not the uniform at the weekend, a later bedtime at the weekend. Their cards were granted access to the computers around the building, and they may occasionally leave campus as long as they asked and received permission.
“Now, things are different for our reform students,” Professor Dickinson continued. “You’ve already proven yourselves unable to behave to the stand we hold, and so you are started on a level one. This is not the lowest you can go, and I will explain that shortly.”
The slide changed again and this time it was far more focused on restrictions than freedoms. From a quick read through, it seemed like they basically couldn’t do anything without being under someone’s watch, or at the very least, monitored.
“Now, there is another level you can drop to, if you break enough rules or prove yourself to need it. Zeros are accompanied by a buddy at all times. Zero tolerance is given to misbehaviour once you’re already in disgrace. Additionally, those weekly maintenance spankings the dean mentions? Those become nightly before bed. Needless to say, most boys shape up pretty fast once they’re made a zero, although once there you can only move back up after a week at least. Not many convince us that a week has been long enough, so the usual length is more like two. For the other levels, you’ll be assessed at the end of every half semester, and if you’ve earned enough points, you’ll find yourself in a better position. The higher you rise, the more points you’ll need to reach the next step.”
A hand rose in the front row, from… Pip, that was it. The kid that got kicked out of RBU.
“Yes?” Professor Dickinson asked.
“So we’re just gonna be punished no matter what we do?” he said, more challenge than question.
“The weekly spankings are punishment for what you’ve already done,” the professor said, raising an eyebrow. “And a reminder of what to expect should you consider repeating said behaviour. After the first semester, those will be reconsidered. If we feel you’ve put in the effort to improve, we may well decide to cease them for the time being. I will warn you that that scenario is rare. Most reformers receive them for the entire freshman year.”
Chapter 9
Notes:
I swear I didn't forget these boys. My mind just throws ideas at me so fast and then I get caught up on them. Hopefully the next chapter won't take nearly so long. Thank you for holding out. <3
Chapter Text
Professor Dickinson walked them through a few more elements that Alfie had already filled him in on, and Felix let his mind wander just a little to consider what he’d gotten himself into.
It had been all well and good when the ideas of coming here had been conceptual, reading a brochure and comparing that to the worse consequences he was facing. And even now, he was fairly sure going to prison was worse than getting spanked. But it felt different to actually be in it. His family was vanilla, and he hadn’t ever really considered whether or not he was as well. He’d just assumed. But after his reaction to yesterday, he couldn’t help but wonder.
“Now, I’ll bring around your points books for this week and the designation tests,” Professor Dickinson said, grabbing his attention again. “Keep the points books on you at all times. If you don’t have it, that’s a five point deduction and five swats with a school paddle.”
He gestured to the largest of the things on the wall, and Felix swallowed thickly.
“You need to answer these tests honestly,” he continued, grabbing a stack of paper. “These are to help us tailor your education and time here to you. Even if you think you know, don’t answer in a way to get that result.”
“Professor Dickinson?”
Pip’s hand was up again, and he nodded.
“I already got tested at Rosie Baughm,” he said. “I know my designation.”
“You bring your results packet along with you?” the professor asked and Pip nodded. “Alright. I want you to still take the exam, but I’ll also take your previous results with me when we analyse them. These things can change, after all.”
Felix had guessed the test would be all like… ‘do you like taking orders?’, ‘wanna smack a butt?’ and stuff like that, but it felt more like a personality test. Even after Professor Dickinson’s instruction, he failed to see how anyone could force it to give them a certain result. It just seemed too esoteric to manage it.
Towards the end were a few questions similar to what he had expected, but even they weren’t that pointed.
Now he was considering what the test might say about him, he felt a little self-conscious. All of his ideas about this stuff came from occasionally reading about it online, so he knew he didn’t have all that much knowledge on all of this kind of thing. He figured his ambivalence either way would result in him being labelled whatever the one between the two extremes was — a switch? It was kind of annoying he wouldn’t know for sure until the end of the week.
When all the tests were done, they were released for the rest of the day. Felix tucked the points card he’d been given into his pocket and held the bag of implements like they might burn him. His points card listed that he needed to keep the paddle on him for the coming week, and he’d honestly rather burn the thing than tuck it into his bag. From the little he already knew of this place, though, they might just make him whittle a new one or some shit.
Still Alfie, seeming to have decided to stick with him, had helped him find their dorm again so he could drop off the rest of the bag, pointing out the spot for the bag to be hung up.
“You don’t have to keep them in there,” Alfie explained, even while Felix’s face felt like it was about to be burned off. “But it helps to have them organised. What day is your maintenance day?”
“What?” he asked.
“On your points card, it tells you your maintenance day,” Alfie said, and then seemed to realise his confusion. “The weekly spanking the dean mentioned. It’s called a maintenance spanking. You’ll go to Connor for them most likely, and there’ll be a date and time on your card.”
Pulling out the piece of paper he was starting to hate, Felix scanned it quickly. And there, noted on the back, was ‘Dorm Leader. Sunday. 8:30pm’.
Alfie, who had been reading over his shoulder, sucked air in through his teeth, making a sympathetic hissing sound.
“Sunday bedtime spanking,” he murmured. “Oof.”
“Eight thirty is not ‘bedtime’,” Felix scoffed, making air quotes around the word.
“It is when you have to be in bed by nine,” Alfie replied, and Felix made a face. “You get used to it.”
“Well he can’t tonight,” he said, tucking the paper away. “I’m still sore from yesterday.”
Alfie didn’t quite stifle his laughter in time, hands clapping over his mouth as he glared, head whipping around.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, waving. “It’s just… you think they don’t know that?”
Horror dawned on him. “You mean…?”
“Oh yeah,” Alfie said, wincing slightly once again. “You’re getting it tonight. Sore already or not.”
“That’s not fair!” he replied, hearing the petulance in his own voice and Alfie took pity on him by not teasing him about it.
“There’s a philosophy to it,” he said, going to sit on his bed, kicking off his shoes and crossing his legs. The stretch in the uniform pants seemed to not just be confined to the waistband. “The idea is you’ll always have maintenance. Technically it’s the only spanking you have to have. It’s the punishment for whatever got you sent here — which I’m not going to ask about, don’t worry. Anything else is on top of it, and due to your behaviour here. Two separate things. And if you’re sore for maintenance, it’s seen as your own fault for breaking rules.”
Felix huffed and laid on his own bed.
“I stole shit,” he said eventually into the silence that had fallen between them. “Not a lot, but expensive. From big box stores, thinking they wouldn’t catch me. Did it enough times they had enough to charge me with a felony because surprise! Those places have a lot of cameras. The cop in charge when I got arrested knew my parents were well off and didn’t want to cause them the ‘embarrassment’. So he offered this place.”
He glanced at Alfie, wondering if he’d seen him differently. If he’d want to hide his stuff from the thief sharing a room with him. Instead the other boy’s head was cocked to one side, a curious expression on his face.
“Why?” he asked.
“They’re big names,” he started. “Rich and wanting to put out a good im—”
“No,” Alfie said, interrupting. “Why did you steal?”
“Oh,” he said, looking down. It was a question no one had really wanted the answer to. They’d ask, but they wanted him to say something like ‘because I could’ or ‘because I wanted stuff’ or ‘I’m a teenage delinquent who wanted to ruin my parents’ public image’. “It’s…”
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s personal,” Alfie said softly after a beat of him searching for the words, and Felix shot him a grin for the out.
“You’re not worried I’m going to steal from you?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but probably failing. He hadn’t known him long, but Alfie felt like an ally now. He didn’t want to lose him.
“No,” Alfie said, shaking his head. “It would be pretty stupid to tell me you got sent here for stealing and then you stole from me, after all. Besides, what are you going to take that you don’t already have as well?”
Felix nodded, catching Alfie’s grin.
“Thanks for being cool about it,” he said, voice softer than he’d like.
“It’s no problem,” Alfie said, waving a hand. “I knew what I was getting into coming here. I’m not gonna go screaming out the door.”
Alfie’s dads had worried about him going to Thistledale for this exact reason, and he’d assured them he understood the risks. Besides, everyone who attended had to pass a background check and be approved based on multiple reports from different people. He wasn’t in danger.
And he meant what he’d said. He didn’t care that Felix had stolen some expensive stuff from stores. And he might not have known Felix all that long, but he seemed… not to be an asshole. Probably a nice guy when he wasn’t spitting mad about the situation he’d ended up in. He’d complained but he’d done nothing mean. Well, nothing Alfie considered truly mean. The snappy comments from the day before didn’t really count to him.
He seemed subdued after the talk the dean had given and Professor Dickinson’s class that morning. An idea came into Alfie’s head and he wasn’t really sure if Felix would accept it, but he figured he would try.
Standing, he padded the few steps to the opposite bed and sat on the edge. Felix turned to look at him curiously over his shoulder, but Alfie didn’t say anything, just placing a hand on his roommate’s back and starting to rub in soothing circles.
“What are you doing?” Felix asked, muscles tense under Alfie’s hand. But… he didn’t pull away.
“Being nice,” he replied with a shrug. “I like back rubs when I feel sad or overwhelmed. I figured you might too.”
“Oh,” Felix said, and Alfie just about caught the pink entering his face. “Well. Thanks. You don’t have to.”
He grinned and just kept moving his hand.
“I know I don’t have to,” he said. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
He got another curious look from Felix, but decided to let it drop. Thistledale was harsh, but that didn’t mean most people Alfie had met weren’t also kind. The staff wanted the best for their students, and those who had chosen to attend wanted to help as well. They knew what they were signing up for, and that was to assist as well as learn.
“I didn’t think ‘being nice’ was a thing this place went for,” Felix said, and Alfie pulled a face.
“It’s strict, and they punish us,” he said, very aware of the plural, remembering the day before — and all the spankings he’d gotten before that — very clearly. “But they want us to succeed in the end. So, you might not be sitting comfortably for a while, but the idea is you leave here better than you arrived.”
Explaining all of this to Felix just made him feel better in his choice to attend Thistledale himself. He’d always craved the close attention and discipline a place like this provided, and now he was here, he was deeply glad of it.
Connor had pinned the rota for the dorm’s weekly maintenance spankings to the notice board he kept above his desk. Pip on Tuesdays, Quincy on Thursdays, Charlie on Fridays and Felix on Sundays. So, today would be the first, and he’d already formulated how he wanted to go about it.
For the most part, the maintenance spankings were left up to the dorm leaders discretion in terms of how they wanted to handle them. Connor had heard some just gave hand spankings, some decided for full, bare bottom paddlings with on the large school paddles. Most landed somewhere in between. He’d decided he’d use a hairbrush or small paddle on their bare bottoms over his knee. Some dorm leaders took their behaviour that week into account — Connor wasn’t planning on it. Their behaviour that week didn’t change what they’d done to get them sent to Thistledale, and the point of these spankings was to atone for that. Of course he’d take into account the state of their backsides when the times came. Some of them were going to be in a sorrier state than others, it was just natural.
However he knew his first rodeo that evening might be a little tender, but his bottom was ripe for another sound paddling. Felix hadn’t even been spanked since the day before, as long as he’d behaved for his teacher that morning, so it likely wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for him, Connor had no worries on that front.
He hadn’t heard anything about there being any more trouble, so when the time came for Felix to be knocking at his door, Connor just waited, the paddle he planned to use waiting on his desk. But eight thirty came and went.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the hands on the clock move. He was going to give Felix the grace of fifteen minutes, this first time, but once there, he planned to teach the boy a firm lesson on timekeeping as well as dosing out his maintenance spanking.
With a low sound of annoyance, once that time came, he stood from his desk and stalked out of his office.
Knocking on Alfie and Felix’s door was courtesy only, because he quickly opened it and walked inside.
And found only one freshman inside.
“Connor?” Alfie asked, looking up from his book. He was already changed for bed, and had turned down his sheets. “What’s the matter? Where’s Felix?”
“I wanted to ask you the same thing,” he said flatly, raising an eyebrow.
“He left here to be right on time with you,” the younger boy insisted, and Connor believed him. Alfie was the honest sort. “Honestly, I just thought it was taking a while.”
“You’re not in trouble, kid, don’t worry,” he said. “Did Felix leave his implements here?”
Alfie nodded and pointed to the wardrobe. Connor opened it, immediately saw the familiar cotton bag and rummaged inside. Pulling out his prize, he twirled the paddle with Felix’s initials engraved into its handle in his grip, feeling out the weight. It was a little meaner than what he had planned, but Felix trying to escape this had earned it.
“Right,” he said, looking back to the other boy, who had now sank down in his bed. “If he comes back before I find him, send him to my study. You just get yourself to sleep at a good time, your classes start tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Alfie said.
“Good boy,” Connor replied, before sighing. “Wish me luck.”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
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