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A Favourite Situation Chapter 15 By Kendo Kawabata

Christmas had finally ended, and the New Years celebrations had come and gone. The last of the Christmas decorations had been pulled down, and the last of the fireworks had finally been set off and forgotten. The tree had been put away for another year, the presents had been unwrapped and unappreciated, as it seemed to be the custom in recent times. The festivities of two back to back celebrations had ended, and it was now a time to rest and relax until the next major holiday. Thomas was trying to do just that, home after his long holiday that had spanned over the Christmas and New Year period. Sitting alone in his house, he had the chance to rest on his couch and actually watch some television with a bottle of wine to accompany him. He was half dozing on the couch, the television more of a background noise as opposed to being something to entertain him. He had no reason to worry that night, as the alcohol was dumbing anything he would have been feeling that night. Sadly, medication did not mix well. But Timothy was out of the house and off with his friends, doing whatever it was that teenagers did these days. But as Thomas found himself falling asleep, he knew that as long as Timothy kept out of trouble, he'd have nothing to worry about. However, trouble began with a knock on the door. The knocking was loud enough to wake him up from his dozing, and for a moment of confusion he wondered who could possibly be knocking that late at night. A knock on the door this late was usually a cause for suspicion, as very would disturb someone like this. Unless it could end up being one of those family members who turned out to be very drunk and ended up needing a fifty for the taxi ride. The door knocked a second time and Thomas slowly pulled himself off the couch, feeling his body protest from his comfortable position. A momentary thought on how much he hated getting old passed through his mind as he got up and headed to the front door of his house. The last thing that Thomas expected to see when he opened the front door of his house was to see a police officer standing under the porch light. Two things immediately registered in Thomas' mind as he took a quick glance to survey the scene. The first, was that the officer had a serious look on her face, that meant she was there solely for business. The second, was that his son was sitting the back of the squad car. ''Good evening Thomas,'' said the police officer. She was a middle aged cougar, as officer that Thomas had recognised from around the city. She was experienced, but she didn't carry that air of superior-bitch that many others did. Thomas only knew her by sight, so he didn't know her name. He didn't know if she was married, but then again he had never really done anything that involved him interacting with the police on such a level. Thomas left the door open as he stepped outside on the porch, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked past the cougar and at his son sitting in the back seat. Timothy was sitting in the back seat, looking like a little lost child. Or at least he was trying very hard to put on that appearance. Thomas however could see right through his son. Timothy was guilty and he was trying to put on a face that said 'Please feel sorry for me.' ''What is the problem officer?'' Thomas asked as he took a look at her name badge. It read 'Swanson.' "There is a problem, I'm afraid,'' said Swanson as she looked over her shoulder back at Timothy. "I'm afraid that I caught your son half an hour ago drinking alcohol he apparently persuaded one of the homeless in town to purchase for him,'' she said. Swanson was prepared for what he was going to say. She had heard it all before. 'My son would never do such a thing'. 'My son is a good kid.' 'How dare you arrest my son on suspicion to something he could not have done?' 'What kind of police officer are you, picking on my poor defenceless child.' She had heard it all before, spats from delusional parents. She was surprised, although she didn't show it, that Thomas simply nodded and looked at her with a rather controlled and calm expression on his face. He didn't look surprised or angry about it, nor did he try to put the blame on her. ''Go on,'' was all he said as he continued to look at her. ''I was patrolling in the main street and I saw one of the usual homeless wandering around his usual spot. Fredricks, he used to be a doctor. Lost everything after his divorce and ended up on the streets,'' she explained. ''He's a good man, but I knew something was up when I saw him holding a very large clip of cash. Homeless don't normally carry that much money. They get stabbed for it,'' she said. ''When I questioned him about it, he said your son and a few of his friends,'' She said with a look back over her shoulder at the squad car. ''Had given him the money in exchange for him going into a liquor store and purchasing alcohol. This isn't the first case of such a thing happening, and you'd be surprised how many youths do this,'' she explained. Thomas didn't say anything as he simply listened. ''I had a chat with the clerk. He confirmed Fredericks had bought the alcohol, and your son and his friends were outside at the time. Video footage also show money exchanging hands between all of them and your son and his friends leaving with the alcohol,'' she continued to explain. ''I found them in the local park. His friends ran off the moment I pulled up but your son tripped and I got to apprehend him,'' she says. ''I could smell the alcohol on his breath before he started denying everything,'' she said. Thomas said nothing as he looked at his son sitting in the squad car. Timothy was trying to look as sad and as miserable as possible, almost trying to plead with his father with his facial expressions that it was not his fault. But Thomas was not believing him. He was not impressed, and he could feel the fury over the whole situation filling him inside. ''I do have to make sure,'' Thomas said as he looked at Swanson. ''Are you sure this is not a mistake?'' he asked. Swanson shook her head. ''This is not a mistake,'' Swanson said. ''All the evidence points to your son, and his since friends have bailed and I only have your sons word that this is their fault, I'm afraid he has to face the punishment. Under-age drinking and second party purchasing of alcohol is a serious crime. I am sorry to have to bring this on you, but Timothy is going to have to show up at the hearing tomorrow.'' ''A hearing, this quickly?'' Thomas asked, showing surprise for the first time since he opened the door. ''That is unexpectedly quick, even for the law to work around here,'' he admitted. ''I was under the impression, along with the general public, that the courts took too long and were incompetent at doing anything right," he admitted. ''no offence'' he added. ''The court systems have taken a step in the right direction to try and deal with problems as soon as they spring up. It it a small step, but it does seem to be a right one,'' she says with a small smile. ''And no offence taken. It's as it should have been for a while. Commit the crime, get punished for it,'' she said to him. ''Yes, as it should be,'' Thomas said with a nod. Ever since the bureau had opened up shop, things had started to get cleaned up everywhere. It should have been no surprise to him that his son would be sentenced to a hearing within hours of his crime instead of days or weeks. "He is allowed to bring a lawyer, and immediate family is permitted to attend along with him,'' said Swanson. ''It would be best that he does show up and that he doesn't miss this opportunity to explain his actions. Otherwise, the alternative is that he doesn't show up and things will escalate,'' she explained. ''Once again, I am sorry to bring this to your attention," she said as she turned around and walked back to the squad car parked nearby. Thomas said nothing as he stood there in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched his son get released from his handcuffs and let out of the car. Timothy squirmed away from her as fast as he was able, glaring a 'how dare you touch me' look at her. However, Swanson was not intimidated by him and gave him a glare right back that made him shrink away from her. Timothy started to hurry towards the front door of the house as Swanson's squad car began to pull away, but he stopped when he saw the look on his fathers face. Thomas' anger was simmering on the surface of his face, and his eyes betrayed the fury that was radiating inside his mind. Even though Timothy had rehearsed everything that he wanted to say in the back of the car while the officer had been talking to his father, Timothy somehow knew, this time he had gone too far with his behaviour. Timothy was the first to break the silence between them both as he looked up at his father. His prepared statements on what he was going to say fell apart in his mouth as he struggled with what to start with, standing literally in the spotlight of the porch, and of the attention. ''Dad...'' Timothy began to speak, but his father cut him off by pointing into the house and giving his son a furious look with his eyes. He didn't say anything, but the gesture was effective as Timothy whimpered a little and slowly, avoiding all contact with his father, slunk into the house. The moment Timothy was inside the house, Thomas slammed the front door shut. Timothy jumped from the sudden slamming noise and turned back to see his father not only locking the door, but locking the deadbolt as well and was now arming the home security on the panel. By the number of beeps that was being played out, Timothy had the strong feeling that his father had changed the pass code without telling him. ''Dad...I swear I...'' Timothy began as he saw his father turn around to face him, a light beeping noise on the panel indicating that no-one could enter or leave the house without alarming the occupants. Timothy was, minimally, prepared to defend himself, but he was not prepared to defend himself for the slap across his face. It made a very loud and very satisfying 'SMACK' across the flesh of Timothy's cheek as the back of Thomas' hand made contact. The strike wasn't hard enough to cause any damage, but it was hard enough to make Timothy shut up and enough to make his cheek burn. "Timothy, I do not want to hear any excuses,'' Thomas said, the older flamedramon was visibly fuming with anger, and his breathing was getting more forceful. ''I do not want to hear any reasons about why you did not do this. There is no reason you can give me that will validate this behaviour.'' ''Dad, I swear I didn't do this,'' Timothy said as he held onto the side of his face, fear starting to make his stomach flutter with butterflies. ''Please, it was just a misunderstanding...'' ''I can smell the fucking alcohol on your breath!'' Thomas shouted in his sons face. He literally could smell it coming off his son, the smell of his sons breath telling him he had drunk either whiskey or maybe bourbon, and it had been straight up from the bottle too. ''Dad...'' Timothy whimpered, but another strike to his face caused him to back away, clutching the other side of his face now as he looked up at his sire, tears starting to well in his eyes. He had never made his father this angry in his life, and he was starting to become more scared then he had been before. ''You get brought home in a police car, after being caught drinking with your friends, when you told me you were out doing something else entirely!'' Thomas shouted, his face starting to turn red with anger. ''You have not only broken the law, but you have also lied to my face and gone behind my back. This kind of behaviour is not something I am going to put up with!'' he shouted. ''Dad, this was all a misunderstanding!'' Timothy said as he held his face in his hands, looking up at his fathers furious face. ''Dad, that stupid cop stereotyped us, like they do to black people. It's completely unfair, and I didn't do it!'' he protested, but it had no effect on his father at all. ''Timothy, you were brought home in handcuffs, alcohol on your breath and on your clothing, and you were caught with the alcohol. How the fuck is this a misunderstanding? If you can explain it all legitimately, I would be very surprised!'' Thomas shouted at his son. ''My friends were the ones drinking, not me!'' Timothy shouted back at his father. ''It's all their fault Dad. They came up with the idea to buy booze and go out drinking. I was just... watching,'' he protested. ''Watching? Really, is that the best that you can do?'' Thomas shouted at his son. The fury was building up and he wanted to lash out and strangle his son with his bare hands, but it took everything he had to not go beyond slapping his son. Besides, he wasn't sure he'd stop if he started. Timothy had no retort to that one as he stood there, starting to get angry himself with his father for taking the side of the stupid police officer. How could his father take someone else's side, over his, his own son? This was completely surreal. And it really wasn't his fault. Well, he did come up with the idea, but its not like he forced his friends to actually do it. ''Timothy, I have been letting a lot of things slide around here when it comes to you. You're attendance at school, your grades slipping, your attitude,'' Thomas said as he forced his hands to unclench from his fists. ''I put it all down to the fact that you have had to need time to adjust with everything that happened in regards to Matt and the effect on this family.'' ''But I am not going to let this slide Timothy. Nor am I going to cover for you on this. You have brought this on yourself, and you have no-one to blame but yourself,'' Thomas said as he pointed behind his son. ''You are going to up to your room, and you will stay there until I allow you to come out.'' ''Dad, that is completely unfair,'' Timothy shouted at his father. ''You're blowing this way out of proportion. You're being completely biased about this!'' he shouted. ''Do you have any idea what this will do to me? I'll lose my football scholarship. They don't give it to people with a record. That means I won't get to go to college. And it will ruin any chances of talent scouts looking for me.'' Timothy said in anger. ''Then you should have thought about all that before going out and being irresponsible,'' Thomas said as he took a step towards his son, who quickly cowered back. ''I cannot believe that after everything that has happened in this family, especially with what happened with Matt after he broke the law, that you would do something on this scale."

''I don't know where you got it into your head to think you are above everyone else that you can act like this, or think you can easily get away with it. But Matt has already paid for his mistakes with the law, and tomorrow, you are going to pay for yours,'' Thomas said forcefully, with such anger in his voice that Timothy could not reply. ''Now, you will march upstairs and if I see you again before I let you out, you will be in deeper trouble then you already are,'' Thomas said in fury. ''While you sit in your room and think about what you did, I am going to call the family lawyer and arrange to have this sorted. And I promise you, no matter what happens tomorrow, you will suffer the consequences,'' Thomas said angrily. ''How can you believe that bitch over me, your own son?!'' Timothy wailed at his father. ''This is so not fair!'' ''There is evidence against you, and I do not believe for one minute that you did not do this,'' Thomas said. ''Believe me, this is not something that you can get away with just by saying that you didn't do it,'' he said. ''Dad, you can't ruin my life like this!'' Timothy shouted at his father. ''What gives you the right to punish me like this and make me go to court over something I didn't even do?'' he protested as he planted his foot on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest in a huff, the spoilt brat inside of him showing through. ''Timothy, you will go to your room and you will shut the fuck up for the rest of the night,'' Thomas said as he took another step towards his son with such fury in his face that Timothy faltered obviously before his father. ''If I hear another word out of your mouth, I swear to God I will tan your ass so hard you will not stop crying like a baby for a week. You are in enough trouble as it is, do NOT force my hand on this!'' Thomas shouted in his sons face. Timothy ran out of bravado at that point, knowing that he had crossed the line as he saw his father raise his hand to slap him again. With a frightened whimper like a child would make, Timothy turned and ran away from his father as fast as he was able to. Timothy did not stop running until he was safely upstairs and in his room, which whose door he slammed shut as hard as he could. Timothy leant against his door, his back pressed against the wood. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breathing was ragged and shallow. A cold sweat was beginning to coat his skin and soak into his clothing. His mind was racing with his thoughts, and the fear and anger was mixing together till he didn't know which was which. He had been caught, and this was not something his father could overlook, not now. He had fucked up. He had fucked up, and it was a colossal fuck up. He had never been caught in such a way before, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, his father was right. This was not something he could just say he didn't do and then put it behind them. ''But.. but he can't punish me. I only suggested the idea, the guys were the ones who went and did it,'' Timothy said as he slowly sank to the floor, brushing a hand up to wipe his damp hair out of his face. ''They should be punished, not me. They should go to court, not me.'' He whimpered to himself. ''This.. this can't be happening," he whimpered, tasting the alcohol on his tongue as he swallowed a lump in his throat. ''I'm...the fucking star at school. This..this shouldn't be happening. It's not my fault, it's my friends. They did it,'' Timothy whimpered as he felt the reality of the situation sink in. He had been caught, and there was nothing to stop him from being punished now. ''He can't force me to go to court when it's not my fault,'' he whimpered. Court. In all the lessons that he had had in the bureau, there were things he had never paid attention to. Like the fact that since the bureau had opened up, the court systems were picking up the pace in dealing with lawbreakers. And that it was getting a lot easier for incidents like this to get put on your permanent record. ''Oh God." Timothy whimpered as he hung his head in his hands. Being the best on the team and getting all the way to state and winning it, was what got him his sports Scholarship to any college that he chose. College was now assured. He could fuck up in his classes for the rest of the year and he'd still get a premium placing. But, the whole scholarship ran on the single fact that Timothy's record was blemish free. If he went to court and this whole incident was put on his record, he could kiss his scholarship goodbye. And his grades were nowhere near good enough to get into college on his scores alone. Plus, the bureau was just as if not as strict with the law record as well. One blemish or severe altercation with the law, and not only would he lose his handlers licence and any chance to work with the B.O.S.S. In the near future, but it would also mean he was a candidate for being enslaved. Just like Matt. ''Fuck.'' Timothy said to himself as he felt incredibly sorry about the situation. But it wasn't the fact that he was sorry that he had gone and defied his father about the situation, but the sole fact that he had been caught.

Usually, it was the sadness, the loneliness, the social alienation, the humiliation, the embarrassment, usually it was all of those emotions that Matt had to hide under a blank face. An empty mask was what he had to portray to show anyone that looked at him that he was just a slave, and one that didn't feel anything. This time though, the challenge to hide the immense amount of joy that he was feeling. The happiness, the elation, the euphoria, it was all so hard to contain and not have to smile and show any kind of emotion at all. Mostly, it was in part thanks to what happened at Christmas. A disastrous start had ended with the two of them admitting how they felt about one another, and the secret love that they could now share between them both helped Matt to face his life in a better light. That, and knowing just how much Spencer valued and cared about Matt, made him forgive him for everything he had done wrong, because he knew now why he had done it. But the topping on the ice cream, what made this new year the best new years he could have possibly asked for while in enslavement, was that he was going to court. To watch his former brother and current handler Timothy, burn. Thomas had pulled Matt out of the warehouse that morning, announcing that the three of them were going to the courthouse to sort out the mess Timothy had gotten himself into. Spencer was not permitted to come, as Thomas was capable of handling Matt by himself. Matt would have normally thought otherwise, but such an elation about Timothy being in trouble was enough to make him do whatever Thomas asked of him. It was taking every ounce of concentration that Matt had not to show how glad he was to be sitting in his restrained seat in the car, with his master and his handler in the front seat. He had the feeling that if either of them realised Matt was happy about the situation, he wouldn't be allowedi n the courthouse. ''Why are we bringing a slave to the courthouse?'' Timothy had demanded when Matt had been locked into his restraints. ''Because its humiliating to you, to have Matt watch you in the courthouse. And therefore, it will be part of your punishment.'' Thomas had explained as he snapped the locks on Matt's restraints. This was getting better by the minute. From what Matt could gather in-between the minor talking going on in the front seat, was that Timothy had finally fucked up in a way that his father could not ignore, nor overlook. Timothy had not only had a homeless man buy himself and his friends drinks, they had been caught drinking in public as well by a police officer. And, as Thomas had pointed out, he had called the parents of the other boys the previous night after Timothy was hand delivered by said police officer. And after arguing with their parents on what exactly had happened, every one of the boys that had been out that night, had put the blame solely on Timothy. It felt like a flashback of déjà vu as he listened in, as the same thing had happened to Matt when he had gotten into trouble. When he had gone to trial, all of his friends that had been with him that night had placed the blame solely on him. Matt knew if he ever saw them again, he would not be forgiving them in anyway. But, Matt was also sure that this time, the outcome would be the same result. Matt had paid for and was still paying for his breakage of the law. But Timothy was in trouble for something much bigger then what Matt had done. There was no doubt in Matt's mind that Timothy was going down to the same result as Matt ended up.

The car ride to the courthouse was long and uneventful, at least outside the car. Inside, the tension was obvious as Thomas and Timothy were not on the same page with what was going on. The only talk between them was Timothy trying to say it wasn't fair or it wasn't his fault, and Thomas telling him to stop denying everything. Matt though, kept his mouth shut and his face as blank as possible. If either of them knew he was getting any kind of enjoyment out of this, he would most likely be punished and forced to sit in the car during the court process. And there was no way in hell he was going to miss watching his handler suffer. ''Dad please.'' Timothy said after several minutes of silence. ''If we do this, my life is going to be ruined. I'm going to have everything taken away from me,'' he whined. ''It's not fair to punish me.'' ''Timothy, if I let you off the hook this time around, all it is going to do is give you the stupid belief that you can get away with anything you want.'' Thomas said, and there was no mistaking the anger in his voice. ''If you do not pay for your actions, you will end up a worse spoilt brat then you already are.'' ''I am not spoilt.'' Timothy protested with a huff. Matt could not help but think of the overly expensive car Timothy had received that had been paid for with Matt's fund money. ''Timothy, you are going into that courthouse, and you are going to man up and face what you have done,'' Thomas growled at the wheel. ''Regardless of how our lawyer handles this, you will be punished. And you will face said punishment. At least Matt had the decency to go into his trial and face what happened with more integrity then you have,'' Thomas pointed out. ''Are you comparing me to the slave? ME?'' Timothy said in anger as he rounded on his father. His outburst came at the same time that Thomas pulled the car over to the parking spaces in front of the courthouse. ''How can you compare me to a slave, especially ours,'' he demanded to his father as Thomas got out of the car. "I am comparing you,'' Thomas said as he slid out of the drivers seat and stood up to straighten his tailored suit. ''When Matt faced his trial, he owned up to what he did and he didn't run away from it. He took it like a man.'' Thomas said as he opened the door to Matt's seat. ''I'm proud of the fact that Matt took the entire thing with a brave face, and I'm not proud of you whining like a spoilt little bitch.'' Thomas said to his son in anger as he undid the straps on Matt's restraints. Matt suddenly found himself somewhat taken aback as he heard the words coming out of his masters mouth. Matt had never had any inkling that Thomas had been proud of him facing his actions as he had. No-one had been there with him on that day, so he had not known his father had been proud of Matt owning up to everything. What really surprised him the most was that his father had actually been proud, regardless of what it was about. His father had been so distant with him growing up, and focusing all of his attention on his work and on Timothy, that Matt never thought there was anything he could have done to make Thomas proud of him. Matt's moment of confusion and surprise was over with rather quickly as Thomas secured his leash to Matt's collar. Matt did notice it wasn't to his facial piercings, but he didn't say anything. Matt stood obediently behind Thomas with his arms behind his back and his head bowed so he was looking at the ground, rather then the free people around him. Thomas did give a nod of approval to Matt, but his eyes narrowed at his son. Although Timothy was dressed in a good looking suit for his court appearance, he still looked like a spoilt brat who was not having his way. Regardless of how expensive and well groomed Timothy was, his behaviour was not going to win him any points inside. ''Get moving.'' Thomas said to Timothy in stern and annoyed tone of voice. Timothy looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't say anything as he started walking up the steps towards the Municipal courthouse. Thomas shook his head at his son and walked behind him with Matt in tow. They suddenly stopped outside the doors of the courthouse as some called Thomas' name. A chill ran down Matt's spine and his heart actually skipped a beat as a deep horrified feeling welled up in his stomach. He knew that voice. He had heard it many times over the years, and as he slowly looked up, he sent out a silent prayer that he was mistaken. Matt felt his stomach hollow out inside of him as he felt a cold sensation spread down his back and over his limbs. There must have been no God after all as he saw a large chubby bear walking towards them in a cheap blue suit and a big sleazy grin on his face. Matt did not feel joyful or elated in anyway as he felt the depression he normally felt hit him full force at the appearance of that fat bastard. The bear was named Morgan Rushmore, and he was a Southern Alabama lawyer that was employed by most of the rich people around the city, including being employed by Thomas. He was a sleazy fucker who knew every legal loophole and rule there was to know, and had the amount of charisma that would sell ice to Eskimos. Even if you were guilty, 9 times out of 10 he'd get you off. Whenever Matt had to think of the sleazy lawyer, he always ended up thinking of a particular scene from the fourth season of the British comedy 'BlackAdder.' Remembering Mattingburg's most famous case, the case of the bloody knife.

A man was found next to a murdered body, he had the knife in his hand, thirteen witnesses that seen him stab the victim, when the police arrived he said, "I'm glad I killed the bastard." Mattingburg not only got him off, but he got him knighted in the New Year's Honours list, and the relatives of the victim had to pay to have the blood washed out of his jacket.

Matt hated the bastard. It wasn't the fact the guy was overweight and looked like a sleazy slob, it was also the fact that during Matt's trial, he was noticeably absent. Thomas had never even brought the bear up around Matt's trial at all. But if Rushmore was here, to Matt it meant only one thing. Timothy was going to get off.

''Ah Thomas, what are you doing all the way up here?'' Rushmore asked as he extended his hands out in front of him like he was about to embrace a brother. ''I left a message with your secretary that I was sure she'd deliver to you.''

''Morgan.'' Thomas said with a nod. ''I hope there is a good reason why you are smiling so much?'' Thomas asked as he and Timothy stepped up towards him. Thomas though did not look like he was about to hug him back, as Morgan dropped his arms.

''Indeed I do have a good reason to be smiling as I am,'' Morgan said as his big sleazy grin seemed to grow even sleazier. That horrible southern accent of his made Matt's skin crawl. "Because you can turn around right now, hope back into your comfortable little car and spend the rest of your day however you see fit,'' he said.'' I have done my job and I have done it well.''

''You...you got me off?'' Timothy asked as his look of spoilt impatience suddenly became replaced by a look of highly anticipated joy.

"Indeed I did little star quarterback.'' Morgan said as he put his hand on Timothy's shoulder. ''You see, I practically live in the social circles of the justice system, and I am quite good at playing the part of fitting in,'' Morgan said. ''Well, I kinda have to, considering the amount of money your good daddy pays me.''

Matt suddenly felt a quiver of rage inside of him.

"What did you do Morgan?'' Thomas asked. If Timothy was starting to look happy about the situation, Thomas didn't seem to share it. In fact, he wasn't showing any kind of emotion at all.

"Why, I did my job as you instructed,'' Morgan said. ''You're lucky that all judges stereotypically enjoy the sport known as Golf. And you're lucky I happen to be good enough to keep up with them, and to let them win. And I tell you, it is very easy to get talking about cases when you're waiting for the next turn to come along.'' Morgan said as he explained.

''The judge and I got to talking this morning over a nine hole course about Timothy and all his recent success on the football field. I mean, how often is it that a team actually gets to go to state and actually win it?'' Morgan asked with a big sleazy grin. ''But these children that win state, they are by no means gods. They are human like the rest of us. They make things called mistakes, and they are at an age when they should be making mistakes so that they can learn from them,'' Morgan continued.

Timothy's happy expression on his face was starting to grow broader as he listened in, hearing how the lawyer had managed to get him off for his wrongdoings. Thomas however, was still blank faced.

''The judge was agreeable when I suggested that most mistakes do not deserve such crime and punishment as a mark on their record,'' Morgan continued as he gave Timothy's shoulder a short shake with a chuckle. ''After all, doesn't' every teenager do this now and then, the pressure and the stress getting to them until such thoughts about such actions become too tempting to pass up?'' He asked. ''And in all honesty, are we without such sin that we can see we did not give in to such devils?''

''And this so-called evidence that this Officer Swanson managed to bring up?'' Morgan continued as his sleazy grin turned into a big sleazy smirk. ''I have nothing against an officer doing the duty that she wears a badge for, especially a veteran who happens to be a good said cop. But honestly Thomas, a bum getting money from a person on the street? That happens every day. How did she not know that this bum managed to save up the money over the course of a few days? Donations are common.''

"And since when has it become a crime for a homeless man to come into a liquor store and purchase himself some spirits? It happens all the time, there is no crime in that. How is a police officer supposed to know who a bum is getting his drinks for anyway?'' he asked.

''And the judge was in agreement when I suggested that perhaps the boys saw fit to do a good deed worthy of a Samaritan and purchase that alcohol off him, to prevent him from doing any further damage to himself?'' Morgan asked. ''I think it's pretty admirable that Timothy and his dear friends would care so much about a homeless man and help him out by removing the devils nectar from him,'' Morgan said.

''Yeah, that's what happened. What Morgan just said.'' Timothy said as he looked up at his father with a brief accusatory glare at his father. ''I told you it wasn't my fault and we didn't buy it to drink. We were just helping him, I told you it wasn't fair.'' Timothy pointed out.

Matt felt himself start to tremble slightly as he tried very hard to keep his composure. This could not be happening. How could a judge believe that shit, especially about Timothy? There was no way Timothy was in anyway that nice to anyone. How could anyone buy that crap?

''And this business about these boys having the smell of alcohol on them? Perhaps they simply spilt it,'' Morgan continued. ''Maybe they were disposing of it and they spilt in the process? And how can we blame a group of teenage boys for running away from police officers? Officers of the law, as gracious as they may be, are quite known for manhandling today's youth for no other reason then they be racially profiling.''

''I can understand the officer was just doing her job, and she should be commended for doing it by the book as he was trained to be doing. But I have reason to believe, and the judge will agree with me, that maybe she was acting in a rush to see some young so-called troublemaker to go behind bars where she believes he belongs,'' Morgan said. ''And isn't it natural for officers to be looking for any excuse to bring down the local home town hero who won state, simply because he has risen to be admired by so many?'' Morgan asked.

''So Morgan, I take it you did your job and dealt with the situation?'' Thomas asked, his face still blank. ''I did ask you to give your legal help in sorting this mess out,'' he pointed out.

''Thomas, you don't even have to go inside. Timothy is not even going to get even a blemish on the paper of his good record over this,'' Morgan said with a chuckle as he looked at Timothy. ''You know how the judges always look favourably upon the hometown hero. Especially the heroes carrying their teams and winning state for the town,'' he added with a chuckle.

"So, I'm not going to lose anything?'' Timothy asked as he seemed eager to jump up and down in excitement. ''I can still go to college on my scholarship and I won't get in trouble over this?'' Timothy asked, his face brightening up considerably.

"Timothy, you will lose nothing. The pride of your fathers seed should have a bright future, and that future does not include a record over a misunderstanding,'' Morgan said with a chuckle. ''Your father asked me to help, and I did beyond helping. But at any rate,'' Morgan said as he for the first time, actually looked straight at Matt. ''You're father should have at least one son that is not a total disappointment and has not broken the law,'' he said, his sleazy grin turning into a superior smirk on his face as he looked right at Matt.

"Now Thomas, you can go home and stop worrying about this whole issue. There is no court hearing, no record, and therefore nothing to punish him over. I'll expect my usual fee delivered in the usual way. You all have yourselves a good day.'' Morgan said as he straightened his cheap tie and turned and walked away as he seemed to focus his attention on someone else nearby.

''Oh my god, he got me off.'' Timothy said as he looked up at his father in excitement. ''I can't believe it, I'm not in trouble anymore. I'm actually free. Nothing is going to happen to me. Dad, you actually got me off. I told you it was a misunderstanding.'' Timothy said with a happy grin up at his father. Thomas however, did not share the excitement as he glared down at Timothy.

"Get in the car, right now." Thomas said sharply to Timothy. The blank look that Thomas had been wearing on his face during Morgan long winded speech, had been replaced by an anger that was focused solely on his son.

"Dad, what the hell?" Timothy said, suddenly looking angry at the fact that his father was not willing to be happy about the situation as much as he was. "Dad, he got me off. Why aren't you happy about it?'' Timothy asked.

"Timothy, get back in the car, NOW!" Thomas said, the word 'now' coming out with so much distaste in his voice that it sounded like he had just said a very foul word. Matt felt a tug on his leash as Thomas turned around and started to walk back down the steps, leading his slave behind him.

Matt felt a flurry of emotions running through him over the whole incident. Morgan had just given him yet another reason to hate the fat sleazy bastard. How could Thomas do this, keep the family lawyer away from Matt's trial and let Matt suffer, but call him in for Timothy and there wasn't even going to be a trial to punish him with? It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that after everything that had happened to Matt, that after everything that Timothy had put him through in the last year, all the suffering and humiliation and abuse that Matt had to endure, Timothy was given a free pass. And he was allowed to get away with it all.

It was starting to feel like Luke all over again.

But while Timothy was elated and happy to be let off, Matt did notice that throughout Morgan's explanation, Thomas did not look happy. As they walked down the steps towards the car, Matt had to wonder. IF calling Morgan was to get Timothy off during the trial, why was Thomas not only not sharing the happiness, but why did he look pissed off about it?

"Dad, what's the problem?" Timothy demanded as he followed his father down the white steps of the municipal courthouse. "You wanted me off, you got me off. What's the problem now? Aren't you happy you got me off?'' he demanded as the angry teenager ended up behind his father as Thomas opened the back door of the car.

"Timothy, get in." Thomas demanded as he held the door open and pointed to the back seat. It took Timothy a moment of surprise to realise that his father was holding the door open to the seat that was holding the slave restraints. He looked up at his father with a mixture of both surprise and anger on his face.

"Dad, that's the slave's seat." Timothy said in disgust. "I don't sit in the slave seat, only slaves do," he pointed out. If he thought being smart was going to change anything, he was sadly mistaking as Thomas reached out, and in full view of anyone passing by and without hesitation of what people would think, Thomas grabbed Timothy by the front of his shirt, with both hands, and pulled Timothy face to face with him.

''Timothy, enough. NOW GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!'' Thomas said in fury in his sons face. Timothy could only gulp and nod without saying a word, although he did turn as white as his hair out of fear for being this close to his father with him this angry. The moment Thomas let him go, Timothy hoisted himself into the car and promptly sat himself in the slave seat without argument.

Thomas slammed the car door shut with enough force that he could have shattered the window as well. He then turned around face Matt, who was still standing behind him. The minute Thomas had dropped the leash to grab his son, Matt had an urge to turn tail and run in fright. He had never seen Thomas this angry before. But when Thomas spoke to Matt, he was very calm and didn't look angry to him.

"Matt, please get in the car.'' Thomas said as he opened the passenger door to the car. Matt blinked in surprise to actually be let in the front seat of the car, but with the mood that was in the atmosphere, Matt had no wish to question what was going on. With an obedient nod, Matt hopped up into the car and slid into the seat, buckling the belt around him.

Thomas shut the door, a lot more gently and proceeded to get into the drivers side of his car.

"Dad, why are you so angry with me?" Timothy demanded as Thomas buckled his seatbelt without saying a word. "You hired Morgan to get me off, and he did. Why are you so angry? I didn't do anything wrong, you heard what Morgan said.'' Timothy said as his father started the car and pulled away from the parking spot.

"Did you already forget that you and your friends actually broke the law?'' Thomas said as he looked in the rear-view mirror at Timothy as he spoke. "Did you already forget that you and your friends illegally acquired alcohol, drank it, and spent the better part of last night and today telling me you didn't do it?''

"Dad, Morgan explained it all. It happened exactly as he explained it. It was a misunderstanding about us doing something nice to someone,'' Timothy protested.

"Just because a lawyer is able to twist the truth around and convince a judge you didn't do it, doesn't mean that you didn't actually do it.'' Thomas said as he frowned at his son through the mirror.

"I don't see the difference." Timothy said with a snort. "In the eyes of the law, I didn't do it. So that means I didn't do it," he pointed out as he folded his arms over his chest in a huff.

"Timothy, I swear you are insufferable." Thomas said in annoyance as he overtook a car on the road a little too quickly. "I don't care what Morgan said, that's his job. To say things like that to the judges in defence of his clients. I pay him to say shit like that, that's his job. But it doesn't cover the fact that you were brought home in a police car last night." Thomas said.

"Dad, it doesn't matter." Timothy said as he glared at his father. "I'm not getting a record, I'm not getting into trouble over this, and my scholarship and my future are safe. What the hell kind of difference would it possibly make anyway?" Timothy said.

"It matters to me." Thomas said in anger as he glared at his son. "I am your god dam father, and trust me, if the courts aren't going to punish you over this, you can bet on your life that I will," he said in a harsh tone of voice.

"WHAT? What the hell are you going to punish me for?" Timothy said in anger as he heard his father speak. "You can't punish me if the law can't prove I did anything" he said, as if that made all the difference.

"Timothy, I swear to whatever God happens to be watching, that if you don't shut up and start telling me the truth, I will personally call your school and tell them I do not accept your scholarship and they can give it to someone else." Thomas threatened.

"What, you can't do that dad," Timothy said in shock. "You can't pull my chance at a good college like that away" he said in annoyance.

"Oh trust me, I can.'' Thomas said with an angry glare, and a grin, at his son in the rear-view mirror. "You're under-age, so if I don't accept it, you don't get jack shit. Now, if you have any goddamm respect for me as your father, or care at all about your future, you will start telling me the truth."

Timothy said nothing as he sat back in the slave seat, looking like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Matt was starting to feel his mood lift a bit. It seemed Thomas was intending to see Timothy get punished in some way after all. Or maybe he just wanted the truth out of him and leave it at that?

"Timothy, I will ask you again. Did you do it?" Thomas asked as he looked in the rearview mirror again.

"....."

"Timothy, you will tell me right now, or I swear, things will get worse for you."

"......"

"Right. Where's my cellphone. I have the school on speedial." Thomas said as he reached for the glovebox.

"Ok, I did it alright?" Timothy said as he spoke, well rather shouted at his father from behind. "Okay? I did. I got money from my account, we convinced some homeless crack addict to buy us some alcohol and we planned to drink it at the park and have a good night," Timothy said as he crossed his arms back over his chest in a huff.

"Why the hell did you do it?" Thomas asked as he looked at his son in the rear-view mirror again. Although this time, Matt noticed he looked much more disappointed then angry. "Why did you go and do such a stupid thing behind my back? Thomas demanded.

"What the hell do you expect me to do?" Timothy said in frustration, as if he expected his father to understand everything already. "I'm the best athlete in the school . I'm the best on the god-damm team. I got us to state and I got us to win. I'm the best damm son you ever had and ever will have. But you treat me like I'm number two. You lock up everything in the house because you can't keep track of everything, you set a hundred rules for me and you wonder why I'm acting out like this?'' Timothy said.

"And you think breaking the law like this is really going to do anything in your benefit?'' Thomas asked him his son. "Timothy, you've spent half of this morning telling me everything you have to lose by being punished. How can you not think of all you have to lose when you commit the crime?''

"It's only breaking the law if I get caught dad. You're just pissed off cause you think this is the first time I've done anything." Timothy said as he sat back in his chair in a huff, acting like the proverbial spoiled brat.

Matt could feel the silence much worse then he could hear it. Timothy had just put his foot in his mouth, and Thomas had heard every word of it. Matt was glad that he was in the front seat, even if more people could see him from that position in the car. He really did not want to be anywhere near Timothy, as the boy looked like he wanted to lash out in frustration at something.

But that was nothing compared to the look of fury, disbelief and betrayal that was evident on Thomas' face.

"So, you have been misbehaving and acting out for some time now, have you?'' Thomas said, each word that he spoke was careful and as calm as he could speak, but even so, Matt heard the venom in those words. If Timothy had any kind of respect for his father, it was obvious just how much he had when he spoke again.

"You're just too stupid to realise what I've done." Timothy said with a rather smug smirk on his face. "You think I've been a good boy and doing everything you tell me? Like hell I have. I've been fucking the guys on my team at school, we've been drinking booze from your cellar that I convinced you Luke stole, we've been smoking weed we bought off the street, and I can lie right to your face and you'll believe every word I say." Timothy said with a smirk to his father.

The car brakes suddenly slammed and the tires actually skidded along the road as the car came to a stop. Horns suddenly blared and honked around them as they came to a standstill, Matt clutching the dashboard as his heart pounded in his chest out of fear over the sudden stop of the vehicle. The horns blared and screeched as the other motorists started to circle around to overtake them. None of them bothered to stop and see what was wrong.

Timothy was clutching the handle above the door in fright, a scared look on his face that matched the look on Matt's face. Both of them were panting and felt a cold sweat on their body from the sudden action. Timothy was pale, although out of fear of what the car did, or fear over realising he had pushed his father too far, Matt didn't know as he slowly turned to look at his owner.

Thomas was staring straight ahead through the windshield, his fingers having turned white from how hard he was holding the steering wheel. There was an expression of utter disbelief and shock on his normally composed face, and his eyes didn't seem to be staring at anything in particular.

"Sir?" Matt asked softly as he looked at the older male. The fear had started to fade from him and it was being replaced by a deep concern not just for his owner, but for his father. He had never seen him...broken like that before.

"Dad?" Matt asked as another car angrily blared its horn as it passed them.

"You can't call him that, he's not your father." Timothy said as he suddenly seemed to come around in time to hear Matt speak that word. But that word seemed to reach Thomas and the older male suddenly blinked and shook his head a little as he seemed to regain himself.

However, Thomas did not say anything as he lessened his grip on the steering wheel and started the car moving again. The horns around them suddenly stopped honking as the traffic around them resumed its normal travel patterns.

Nobody in the car spoke. Both Matt and Timothy were too scared and unsettled to even form words, or even know what to say. Thomas though, looked very deep in thought, although Matt could tell his father was deeply hurt by what had happened.

It had been a long time since Matt had called him Dad. He knew he had broken the rules just by saying that one word, but he couldn't help but wonder why that word reached his owner like that?

After several long and tense minutes, they eventually returned back to the warehouse and Thomas pulled the car into the parking lot. The car came to a much gentler stop and Thomas gunned the engine. Still, no-one spoke as Thomas sat back in his seat and closed his as he let out a long sigh. After several moments of silence, Thomas opened his eyes and looked over at Matt.

"Matt, please get out of the car and go into the warehouse and get Spencer for me," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "Please tell him I have something he needs to assist me with. Then please wait by your desk in the loading bay," Thomas said to him.

Matt nodded as he didn't dare argue and opened the door. He had no reason to try and run for it while no-one was holding his leash, but he knew that he'd make the situation worse if he tried anything. Without hesitating Matt quickly ran over the parking lot and headed into the front door of the warehouse.

Without stopping for the other workers or even looking at them, Matt hurried towards Spencer's office. The big blackwargreymon was sitting behind his desk typing up something on his computer. Spencer turned away from the monitor when he saw that Matt had walked in, and his expression turned to confusion when he saw that Matt was alone.

"Matt, is there a problem?'' Spencer asked as he stood up, not seeing Thomas anywhere. For Matt to come into the office without anyone, something was up.

"Thomas wants you outside to help him with something, he didn't say what," Matt said to him. "Something really bad has happened, Timothy has...really screwed things up," Matt said.

Spencer didn't say anything as he simply nodded and then got out from behind his desk and hurried out of his office, not bothering to tie Matt back on his tracker. Matt watched him head out of the warehouse before he left the office as well and walked over to his desk at the loading bay.

As Matt stood there wondering about the situation, he couldn't help but feel sorry for his owner. No, his father. He could only imagine what it was like to hear that from his own son, and hear just how little your own son could possibly think of you. He had never seen his father look so broken like that before, and he couldn't imagine what was going through his mind.

He was broken out of his thoughts as he heard a commotion coming from behind him and he looked up to see what it was. It became apparent the commotion was Spencer forcing Timothy in front of him with a big hand on the back of his neck, with Thomas following behind them both.

"God dammit, get the fuck off of me you dick!" Timothy shouted as he struggled against Spencer's hand, but the bigger male easily overpowered him and kept him firmly in front of him as Timothy struggled and kicked.

"Spencer, please place Timothy on the punishment cross, and make sure he's locked in tight," Thomas said calmly as he allowed Spencer to manhandle Timothy. Obviously, they had already discussed what was going on as Spencer didn't hesitate to drag Timothy over to the large St. Andrews cross.

"Hey, those clothes are expensive you dick, don't you dare touch them!"Timothy said as Spencer easily pushed Timothy up onto the cross as if the boy didn't weigh anything. To Spencer, he probably didn't as he didn't use a baby's touch to push Timothy's arms and legs into the restraints.

"If you would like to come and see what the fuss is about, please join." Thomas said over his shoulder where he could see the other workers were trying not to make it obvious that they were interested in what was happening. However, once the owner of the warehouse gave them permission, they put down what they were doing and started to walk into the loading bay to see what was going on.

As the men lined up and Timothy was firmly in place on the cross, Spencer then walked over to Matt's desk and reached into a drawer, pulling out a large pair of scissors. He looked up at Thomas, who merely nodded and Spencer grinned as he walked up to Timothy and started to cut the clothes off his body.

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?'' Timothy shouted as Spencer rather calmly cut the clothing from his body, the sharp scissors slicing easily through the cotton fabrics. He didn't just cut them off, he cut them to pieces and soon scraps of fabric began to fall down around Spencer's feet.

"Those are expensive cloths you bastard!" Timothy shouted as he struggled, but his struggling got him a firm and hard spank on his backside, which made him jump in his restraints and yelp like a little boy. It only took a minute or two before Spencer had him completely naked, having just cut off the boys underpants.

"Hush up boy." Spencer said as he gave Timothy's backside another good hard smack. Matt had to admit, Timothy had a good body for a football player, and a bubble butt that most guys would die to have. But nothing about Timothy even remotely turned Matt on, and the non shining light from his crotch was proof of that.

"Does anyone here have a timer application on their phone?'' Thomas asked as he looked over at the group of workers who stood nearby. They all wore the same look of confusion on their faces, but none of them seemed to want to ask what was going on with the situation. Randall was the first to check his phone and bring a stop watch app up on the screen.

"Here, I got one," the Fennec said as he handed the phone to Thomas. Thomas took it and touched it a few times as he set a time limit on it.

"Thank you Randall. You'll have this back soon." Thomas said as he set the timer on the phone for ten minutes and then turned to the other workers.

"Gentlemen, as you are no doubt wondering, I will save you the confusion and explain what is going on," Thomas said as he calmly addressed the workers. "My son last night broke the law, and he broke it willingly. He convinced a homeless man to purchase alcohol for himself and his friends, which they then proceeded to drink in public," Thomas explained.

"That's a bald faced lie!" Timothy shouted at his father. "Morgan told you, it was a misunderstanding. We were helping the shit faced drunk!" he shouted. Thomas looked over at Spencer and pointed to his mouth, then made a zipping motion.

Spencer smiled and nodded as he walked over to the cabinet beside the cross and opened it, revealing the disciplinary equipment inside. He reached in and pulled out a bright red ballgag on a black leather strap. Timothy saw the gag and put two and two together, and opened his mouth to protest. He barely got a syllable out before Spencer shoved the ballgag into the brats mouth and quickly secured it around his head.

"Thank you." Thomas said with a nod as he turned back to the workers and then adjusted the phone, which then read 15. "Now, I was hoping that at least, my son would see some sort of punishment at court today, and learn his lesson," Thomas said as he continued.

"Now, I understand that my lawyer is a good one when it comes to situations like this, but I did not expect him to get my son off scot free without him even needing to get into court. Timothy has not been punished by the courts, nor will this even appear on his permanent record." Thomas continued to explain. The workers all shared a glance with each other, surprised at both sets of news.

Timothy struggled again on the restraints as he tried to speak, but all he managed to do was make muffled noises around the gag and produce strands of saliva that leaked out of his mouth. Spencer smirked, the other workers surprised to see their overseer boss in such a good mood over this.

"Settle." Spencer said, using a tone of voice commonly used for talking to dogs as he gave Timothy's butt a good hard smack. Timothy let out a yelp as the loud smacking sound was heard, and he instantly stopped moving as his backside burned for a moment or two. Thomas continued to speak as he seemed to not pay attention to what was happening nearby.

"Sadly, I have learned today that my son has been misbehaving and defying me behind my back for quite some time. And he seems to have reason to believe that his reason for doing it, is because its easy, and I am that naïve with him and his actions I will not believe anything bad about him," Thomas said.

Matt had been quietly watching the whole situation from behind his owner, and although he couldn't see his face, he could hear the tone of voice. It was a sad one, sad and disappointed. For a moment, he was sure that Thomas was disappointed in his son.

"I am more disappointed in myself over this, because I should have seen this coming. However, I did not. I do blame myself in part for what has happened, as every parent has to admit to their shortcomings, and take responsibility for their child's actions," Thomas said as he looked to Spencer.

"The tawse please," he said as he extended his hand. Spencer grinned as he pulled the small device from his pocket and handed it to Thomas. Timothy's eyes went wide as he suddenly had a realisation on what was going to happen and he garbled what could only have been a string of foul words into his gag as he struggled to get free.

However, the punishment cross was designed to keep slaves put, no matter their size. And a struggling football player was not going to get out of it easily.

"But, regardless of my failure as a parent, Timothy must be made to be punished for choosing to break the law of his own free will." Thomas said as he flicked his wrist and extended the tawse into the open air. It slid out with a soft clicking noise. "So, as much as most would love to blame me and my lack of parenting skills, I did not at any stage, force my son to break the law. He chose to do so, and therefore, he will be punished."

"So, are you going to whip him with the tawse?" Troy asked, as he couldn't help but show his excitement. The other workers were all looking excited as well. None of them liked Timothy in any way shape or form, and they were willing to not blame Thomas for his lack of parenting skills, to either son, if they got to watch Timothy get his ass whipped.

Thomas however, smiled and shook his head.

"However, I am not going to be the one to deliver the punishment." Thomas said as he then turned around and walked over to Matt. Matt looked up in surprise as Thomas turned the tawse over and handed it, handle first, to Matt. "You are going to do it for me." Thomas said calmly.

"Me?" Matt asked as he looked up first at Thomas in surprise, and then to Spencer. But Spencer smiled and nodded his head. Obviously, he was going to know this was going to happen, as Thomas must have explained it all to him.

"I never intended to get Timothy off. I intended him to pay for his actions," Thomas said as Matt took the tawse from him and Thomas turned back to the workers. "But since Timothy got off, and revealed his backstabbing to me, Matt will administer justice and perform the punishment.

"I was intending for ten minutes, but since Timothy still hasn't learned to behave, it has been extended to fifteen minutes," Thomas said. "I can't think of a more humiliating punishment then for a failed handler to be bound naked and whipped in front of an audience by his own slave." Thomas said as he then turned to face Matt. His look changed from calm to serious.

"You have free reign to strike Timothy in anyway you see fit, as long as you do not strike anywhere other than his back or his backside. The tawse does not leave any permanent marks, so you may strike as hard as you like." Thomas said as he spoke clearly so Matt did not misunderstand.

"For those fifteen minutes, you are exempt from all punishments. Nothing you do or say will be held against you once the punishment is over." Thomas said seriously. "As far as I'm concerned, once these fifteen minutes are over, they will not be brought up again. However," Thomas said as he leant in closer. "If you go even one second over those fifteen minutes, all rules and regulations will be back in force. So remember Matt, once this timer goes off, you stop. Period" he said. "Do you understand?''

"Yes sir, I understand." Matt said as he felt his hand tightening around the tawse. His stomach was starting to knot up in nerves and he felt a dryness in his mouth. But it wasn't out of fear. It was out of anticipation.

"Now, Spencer. Please make sure Matt does not go over the time limit for any reason. And ensure Timothy takes the full fifteen minutes. Don't let him off even if he pisses himself out of fear," Thomas said. The workers gave a chuckle to that one and a big grin on their faces.

"I will be in the office making some calls. Please come and get me when all of this is done" Thomas said. "Gentlemen, feel free to be as vocal as you like. Don't feel sorry for him." Thomas said to the workers before he then took one last look at his terrified son and then shook his head before he started to walk towards the office.

Timothy struggled against the bindings and tried to get his fathers attention by shouting as loudly as he could through the gag. But nobody was even looking at him as he struggled. And even if they did, it was only to smirk at him without any sympathy or empathy for the spoilt boy. And if Thomas heard his boys struggling and muffled cries, he gave no indication as he walked into the office and shut the door.

Spencer noticed that Matt was looking down at the tawse, a look of uncertainty on his face. For a moment, Spencer thought that Matt was unable to do this. After all, deep down it was still his brother and he was being forced, in a way, to inflict fifteen minutes worth of pain to him while he was bound and gagged.

Concerned, Spencer walked up to Matt and put his hand on his shoulder. Matt startled slightly as he looked up at Spencer, seeing his overseer look down on him with concern.

"Matt, if you don't want to do this, I'll understand and I won't feel any less about you," Spencer said to him before he gestured to the other workers. "If you want, I can talk to Thomas and maybe get one of the other guys to do it. I'm sure they'd love the chance to -"

"How do I make him scream?"

Spencer felt a rush of surprise hit him as he was curious as to wether or not Matt had actually spoken those words. The confusion rose up slightly as he tried to think about what Matt could possibly be referencing about.

"That day, you promised you could make me scream after three strikes?" Matt said as he looked up at Spencer. "Tell me how I can do that to Timothy. Tell me how I can make him scream." Matt said in a serious tone of voice Spencer rarely heard him use.

Spencer would have normally been worried if any of his boys in the past had asked him to teach them how to make someone suffer like this. But after everything that was going on and how much Matt had suffered in the past year, Spencer did not want to say no. He could see how serious Matt was just from the tone of voice he was using, and he knew that right now, Matt wanted this more then his own freedom.

And he was not going to deny him at this time.

Spencer put a hand on Matts shoulder and turned him away so that he was facing away from the workers and from Timothy. Timothy was looking over his shoulder at them both, a look of desperation on his face as he tried to see what they were plotting. Spencer took Matts hand in his own and leant over to talk against him, keeping his voice low but clear so no-one could overhear them.

"Normally, when you go to strike a slave, you simply hold the tawse and strike down." Spencer said as he moved Matts arm and hand to demonstrate. "A simple up and down strike and it hurts like hell. You can do it as hard as you like because these things are designed to not cause any permanent damage." Spencer continued.

"But, if you want to make a slave scream, you do it like this," Spencer continued. Matt said nothing as he simply nodded and listened carefully. He did not want to miss a word of what Spencer was saying to him. "Now, you keep your wrist nice and loose like this, and just before you hit his flesh, you flick your wrist, like this," Spencer said as he guided Matts hand to demonstrate.

"You flick your wrist like this, as if you were cracking a whip in midair," Spnecer said as he showed Matt. "But, you're cracking the tawse on a slaves backside. Or back, or side. Wherever you decide to punish him. And when you do hit him, don't just bounce the tawse off his skin. You keep the impact. Keep the rod pressed against his skin for a few seconds. It adds extra impact and increases the damage dealt. Which makes it more hurtfull." Spencer said.

"So, just before impact, you flick your wrist and and keep the impact." Matt said softly. It didn't seem like it would work, not with the way Spencer was explaining it. But Matt could remember how badly it had hurt him that day, and how hurt he had been afterwards. He felt his grip on the handle tighten and he could actually feel his hand and arm shake a little in anticipation.

"Yes, you might not think it works, but remember. I've had experience disciplining people, so I know what I'm talking about," Spencer said against Matt. "And trust me, they do not teach this at the bureau." Spencer added with a small grin on his face as he let go of Matts hand.

"Alright boys." Spencer said as he stood up proper and turned to face the other workers as he walked back towards the desk. "Matt is ready to begin. I would like you all to stay where you are and watch as Thomas has graciously allowed you to. For the next fifteen minutes, no-one is to interfere in this. Unless its for an actual emergency, but I don't think that is going to happen." Spencer said with a chuckle of amusement.

Timothy went wide-eyed as it suddenly began to sink in that this was actually going to happen. He had been secretly hoping that his father would walk out of the office and put a stop to his boys abuse and decide he had been scared enough to consider it a punishment.

But that hope died instantly as Spencer held up the phone and pressed a finger to the screen and held it up to show that the timer had been activated. The phone display now read 14:59 and it was going down slowly. Timothy went wide-eyed.

"Oh fuck, this isn't happening," he thought desperately as he struggled against his bonds again. As the restraints refused to budge, he couldn't help but remember the amount of times he had Matt on this very cross and watched him struggle, laughing at him and goading him about how unbreakable the straps were.

Yet, he wasn't sorry for the goading as much as he was sorry for himself being on a punishment device created for a slave.

CRACK.

Timothy's eyes went wide as he felt that tawse strike across his backside without warning. He couldn't believe he would be struck in that way without at least a warning. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. He could actually feel his skin burn a bit from the impact. He felt his body spasm a litte from the sudden pain as the burning died down.

CRACK.

Another sudden pain erupted over his backside without warning once again, and Timothy bit down on the gag as he felt his eyes water. Dammit, he was a star athlete and a state winner. He was the best in the school. This whole situation was unfair to him. There was no way he was going to make a sound and start crying in front of everyone. Dammit, he was not a bitch like Matt.

CRACK.

Matt heard his brother break after the third strike as the boy started crying into the gag as he shook his body against the restraints. It should have given Matt a good feeling to have made his brother cry so easily, but he wasn't paying attention.

Matts eyes were on Timothys backside where he was sure he had seen a very thin red line appear across the blue flesh. But he blinked and a moment later the line had vanished. But he was sure that it had been there. He frowned as he brought the tawse back down and landed another strike on Timothys skin. And again he was sure that he had seen another line there.

CRACK.

Spencer said nothing as he leant against the desk, holding the phone in his hand with his arms crossed across his chest. The timer was slowly counting down the fifteen minutes of Timothys punishement while the other workers were happily watching behind him. Spencer was enjoying the spectacle, but he was also keeping an eye on the time. As much as he watched to see that spoilt rich kid get what was coming to him and encourage Matt onwards, Spencer did not want to let Matt go over the limit. Not if there were consequeneces waiting for him if he did.

CRACK.

Timothy let out a muffled scream of pain as he felt yet another stroke across his backside. How could the tawse hurt this much on him? He had seen slaves get a beating from their masters at the bureau and they took to it like a duck to water. Some of them even begged for another strike after thanking their masters. How the hell was it supposed to hurt this much when slaves enjoyed this kind of thing?

CRACK.

Timothy cried out again, his voice muffled by the ballgag as his body jerked from the pain. Matt had just hit a spot on his backside that Matt had already struck, and the pain seemed to double on his flesh. His body spasmed from the flash of pain as he squirmed in his restraints as he grunted and groaned into the gag. He didn't really get much time to think anything more on how appalling this was to be done on him when another strike hit his backside.

CRACK.

Matt did not need to look down to know that he was not eminating any light from his crotch. The other workers couldn't even see even a flicker of light, nor any signs between Matts legs that he was aroused over this. Matt brought his arm up again and landed another strike across Timothys butt. To him, this was not sexual. This was not arousing. This wasn't some pleasurable act that he could get off to now or later on down the line. No, this was pure and simple revenge, and he didn't need to get off on it to enjoy it.

CRACK.

Lines were starting to appear across Timothys' backside as Matt delivered another blow, and then another. The lines were faint and red, but visible enough that someone could have been doing naughts and crosses on Timothys' butt. Each strike on his butt made Timothys' body jerk and jostle in the restraints as he kept crying and screaming into the gag from each strike.

CRACK.

Matt paused for a moment as he looked over at Spencer, his eyes focusing on the clock display on the phone screen. The first minute hadn't even passed yet, and he was making Timothy cry. Tears were streaming down the spoilt brats cheeks, and there was still over fourteen minutes left to go.

He could actually feel a grin spread across his face as the grip on his tawse tigthened. Fourteen more minutes. Fourteen more minutes of making his spoilt, selfish asshole of a brother pay for every minute of humiliation and degredation that he had ever felt at the hands of Timothy over not just the past year, but over his entire life.

CRACK.

Matt brought his arm up and struck down to the right, his wrist flicking at the right moment and the tawse landed on Timothys backside, the impact being held for a few seconds before he removed it from Timothys left cheek. The tied up boys body jerked from the impact and he let out a loud muffled cry of pain.

CRACK.

Matt brought his arm up again and this time struck down towards the left. His wrist flicked again and the tawse made contact for a few seconds. Timothy let out another muffled cry as his body jerked again. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he shook his head in agony.

Matt felt a grin spread across his face as he actually felt happiness well up inside him. But this happines was addictive, almost deliriously addictive as he felt himself give in. Give in to the superiority and the dominance that all owners and handlers had to feel when they loomed over their slaves like this.

CRACK.

CRACK. CRACK.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The cracks were starting to work into a steady rhythm, making a large figure eight in the air, a figure eight of punishment on his ex brother. Strike down to the right and hit his left cheek. Strike down to the left and his his right cheek. Matt felt his was starting to burn, but he embraced the burn as he kept going, not missing a stride as he kept up the assult.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The red marks were starting to become more prominent as Timothys cheeks were swamped in tears that were now dripping onto the floor, glistening from the overhead lights. He hung his head as he stared down at the floor, his vision blurred from his crying. Every strike made his body jump from the impact and his head swung back and forth. He felt overwhelmed, not just by the pain, but by the self pity that he felt for himself. And it was the only pity that was being felt for him.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The other workers were starting to laugh. Timothys backside was not starting to turn an angry red from the constant strikes across his round backside. His asscheeks looked like a couple of red cherries, and the workers were pointing and laughing at him like he was a sideshow attraction. And they were not afraid to be vocal towards him.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

"Turnabouts fair play, huh Timothy?"

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

"How does it feel now bitch?"

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

"Not such tough shit now are you? Look at you, crying like a little bitch."

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

"Where's your State now huh? Where's all that crap you've been bragging on about? None of that matters now boy. None of that is going to help you now bitch."

Although Spencer was enjoying this immenseley, he wasn't really showing it outwardly. He glanced down at the timer in his hand every few moments, keeping a very carefull eye on it. Then he would look back up for a few seconds or more to watch Matt assault Timothy.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Spencer wanted to enjoy this. Hell, he wanted to sit back and stroke himself to the punishment. But he couldn't. He could not let himself loose focuse on Matt and let him go even one second over the punishment. If Matt did go over, then the last fifteen minutes would have meant nothing.

Being able to punish Timothy, this was a gift from whatever God happened to be in the latest trends. And this was a gift that Matt needed. But if he went even one second over the limit and strike Timothy, Spencer wasn't sure what Thomas would do to him, but he knew for sure that it was have a damaging effect on Matts psych. Matt had already had too many mind fucks in the past year, and Spencer was not about to let this gift give him another one.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Matt could feel the sweat start to drip down his body as he was getting worked up. He stopped his movement long enough to wipe the sweat that was running into his eyes off his forehead, and then went right back into it. He could feel his breath getting harder, his body temperature rising as he felt hotter. His arm was burning heavily, every movement aching as his muscles screamed at him to stop and give some kind of relaxation. But it was not going to happen.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Timothy whimpered as he felt his body jerk and jostle from the pain and the striking. His ass was getting tenderised in a way that it had never known. If the gag hadn't been in his mouth, he probably would have been blubbering like a baby by now, sniffing and crying and howling like a spoilt little baby that was getting punished for deliberately doing something wrong after being warned.

He brought his head up as he heard the workers still laughing at him, hoping that he would see his father come out to put a stop to all of this. To fire the workers for laughing at him. To fire Spencer for going along with this. To beat the hell out of Matt for daring to hit him in such a fashion. But Thomas was not there. Timothy s' father was not coming to rescue him.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Matt's expression was changing. It had gone from a calm mask that hid all of his emotions and feelings, to a face that was giving in to the anger. Anger and frustration and intent to kill. All the emotions he had buried that day and over the last year were starting to break through the mask he had been forced to wear and show themselves to the world.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Several of the workers stopped laughing as they saw Matt literally transform in front of them. The calm, sad and often depressed looking slave that they were used to seeing each day, was turning into something resembling an angry beast. An angry determined beast that was solely focused on bringing pain to his victim and would not stop until he had the boy broken.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Even though they were not happy to see Matt in such a state, or see what he was becoming, none of them dared to step forward and stop him. This was payback, payback Matt desperately needed to deliver, and none of them would dare to put their hand up and object. Out of respect for Matt, their Matt, the Matt they ate lunch with and worked with, the Matt who suffered and carried on, the workers stopped their taunting and teasing and instead opted to keep quiet and just watch.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Matt had not said a word throughout the ordeal, but no words were needed to be said. Spencer watched him lay blow after blow after blow. Once again, Spencer's eyes flickered towards the screen display and look at how much time was remaining before he looked back to see Matt get angrier and more worked up with each hit.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Matt gritted his teeth as he landed another strike, the strikes on Timothy's' backside were so frequent that his skin was turning darker. The multitude of sharp painful strikes and slashes across his backside were starting to blur together and it made Timothy's butt look like someone had taken to it with a paddle. The surface of Timothy's butt was a dark angry red, and would stay that way for a while. But that was it.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

There would be no bruises and no marks to show that Timothy had been punished. Timothy would not have to walk around and get taunted and teased for walking funny. Timothy would not have to put up with the other boys laughing about how he took it up he ass a bit too much. No-one would be saying he took it from a Clydesdale or got gang banged in the locker room. No, Timothy would not suffer from the after-effects of such a punishment.

And that just made Matt angrier, that this punishment would not last long enough.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The fury was building, the rage intensifying. The blows becoming quicker. His arm was screaming in pain and sweat was rolling off his body. But all Matt rode on was the determination. Determination to make Timothy suffer as much pain as he could possibly deliver to him. And he did not want to stop. He did not want to stop until he had Timothy howling and screaming and begging for mercy.

Mercy that Matt had no intention of delivering.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK! CRACK!! CRACK!!! CRACK!!!!

Perhaps he lost track of time, or perhaps he was so focused on what he was doing that he lost himself outside of the reality around him. He didn't even notice the hand grab the hand he held the tawse in and pull back, preventing Matt from delivering another much needed strike.

Timothy's dark red ass was pulled away from his vision, his target of his concentration. Other unfamiliar objects filled his vision, objects he didn't recognise. Stacked shelving of large coloured boxes, dark grey concrete floor. A black company desk surrounded by faceless blank people who looked like they had just stepped in from a funeral.

Matt stumbled as he tried to fight back and bring that tawse down on Timothy's ass, but he was pulled backwards again and he felt his fury rise. Someone was preventing him from hitting that bastard. That fucker wasn't getting punished and Matt had to, no he NEEDED to punish him, but someone was stopping him. Someone was deliberately stopping him.

Matt let out a snarl as he stumbled again and clenched his free hand into a fist. He could feel his fury rising as he was brought to a halt against whoever was holding him. Now that he was able to right himself, he swung his fist as he spun himself around, intending to fight whoever it was off so he could go back to making his brother scream.

But a hand grabbed at his fist and held it, Matt suddenly in a firm iron grip that stopped his movements like they were a brick wall. He looked at the unfamiliar hand that now had him by both wrists before he looked up into a face that he didn't recognise until the features rearranged themselves as he calmed down in his surprise enough to recognise who it was.

Spencer had stopped Matt from hitting him before the boys hand had the chance to even come anywhere near him. And he held him as easily as if he was holding a pair of twigs in his grip. The bigger digimon was holding him in place as he looked down at him, not taking his eyes off the boy.

Matt looked back up at him, surprise and shock written across his face as he found himself coming down to reality enough to realise what was going on. Spencer, Spencer of all people was holding him back. Spencer was preventing him from getting his revenge and had stopped him from making that son of a bitch pay. Matt felt the fury rise up and take over the surprise and shock he was feeling as he glared up at the bigger male.

How could Spencer do this to him? How could Spencer stop Matt like this and deny him his chance to get his revenge and his retribution? Matt felt his body tense up as he found himself preparing to fight. He wanted to keep punishing Timothy. He wanted that spoilt brat to suffer, to cry, to scream and beg for mercy that would never come. And he wanted to fight anyone, even Spencer, to keep on going.

But before Matt could take a breath to scream, to will his muscles in his arms to move to struggle, to pull his legs back so he could kick out at him, he heard a noise. An annoying noise. A tinny, tapping, alarming noise that sounded like some cheap recording. The noise got louder and echoed in Matt's mind as it cut through his rage and frustration like a knife through butter.

The timer had gone off. The time was up. The punishment was over.

Matt found himself practically falling back into reality as realisation flooded through him. Matt felt his hands unclench, the tawse falling to the ground and landing with a soft clatter. The anger and fury faded and withered quickly as an overwhelming shock and regret suddenly poured through Matt as he looked up at Spencer, the man he had just been about to attack.

Matt felt himself start to panic as he realised what he had been about to do. He had been so caught up in the punishment he had been willing to strike at the only good person in his life. He felt his body start to shake and tremble as he tried to find the words so he could start apologising before Spencer hated him.

"It's ok Matt." Spencer said softly as he slowly let go of Matt's wrists. "I had to stop you early, you were getting too far into it. But it's over now. You can calm down and stop, ok?" Spencer said kindly with a loving smile on his face.

Matt didn't know what to say as he lowered his arms. His right arm screamed with relief and suddenly felt like it weighed a tonne as it flopped tiredly against his side. But he didn't feel relief. He had just been about to attack the one person he loved most in the world, and that fact was more distressing to him then what he had just done to his handler. Matt had the urge to just get on his hands and knees and kiss Spencer's feet and apologise repeatedly until he found forgiveness.

Suddenly, he heard clapping. Matt turned around in surprise as he heard the soft clapping and saw the workers, the people he worked with every day, were applauding him with respectable applause. All of them were smiling at him, and all were clapping. A couple of them even gave him a thumbs up and he saw one pump his fist into the air to congratulate Matt on delivering such a punishment.

"They...don't think any less of me?" Matt found himself thinking as he stared at them in surprise.

However, the applause died down as Thomas appeared behind the workers and excused himself as he made his way through them. The workers parted around him like the Red Sea as Thomas very calmly walked up to Spencer and stood in front of him. He completely ignored Timothy, who was slumped over the cross and giving timid whimpers of pain against his gag.

"Did he go over?" Thomas asked. Spencer shook his head and smiled.

"No, he didn't. I stopped him early. If I didn't stop him, he would have gone over." Spencer said with a nod towards Thomas. Thomas said nothing as he looked like he was thinking, before he nodded at Spencer and then looked down at Matt with a smile on his face.

"You've made me proud Matt." Thomas said with a smile down to him. "You did exactly as I asked, and you didn't go over like I feared. I'm very proud of your actions today." Thomas said as he put a hand on Matt's shoulder.

It was the first physical contact that Matt had received from his master and from his owner in the last year, and it felt so alien and foreign to him that he actually felt goosebumps against his skin and a heavy dread in his stomach. However, Matt swallowed the sickening lump in his throat and looked up at his owner.

"Thank you sir." he said as he looked back down at the floor after speaking. He could actually feel his cheeks go flush from the praise. He hadn't received this much praise from his father before and to receive so much in one day, it was a big more then just foreign to him.

Thomas nodded as he removed his hand from Matt and Matt felt an overwhelming sense of relief when the contact between them ended. How strange it was, that he had wanted nothing more then the loving contact of his father so badly in the last year, but the moment he got it, he just wanted it to be over with.

"Now, the rest of you may go back to work. And thank you for allowing me to punish my son without turning this into some political correctness parenting garbage." Thomas said to the workers with a smile on his face. "For allowing this of me, you will all receive a bonus in your pay checks this week," he said. "A good bonus," he added with a smile.

More then one of the workers cheered out loud at the good news, and a few even traded fist bumps as they started to walk away. They turned and headed back to their stations as the discussion broke out immediately on just how much a 'good bonus' really translated to. Thomas nodded after them before he turned back to Spencer.

"I've already set it up. They received a good bonus in their pay checks, and so will you. You're will just be a little bigger then the others, considering how eager you were to let me punish my son here." Thomas said with a smile to Spencer.

"That's very generous of you, thank you." Spencer said with a smile to him. Thomas nodded before he looked down at Matt again.

"Now, for being such a good slave for me today, you can have the rest of the day off. Spencer, there is a portable dvd player in a box in the back of my car I bought for my office," Thomas said. "Matt's permitted to have it for the next week, provided of course it doesn't get used while he's working. You can give Matt whatever movies he asks for, he's deserved a good treat like this." Thomas said.

"I have no objections," Spencer said as he gave a grin to Matt. "I'll go grab it immediately." he said as he nodded at Thomas before he hurried off to retrieve the box from the back of Thomas' car. Matt watched him go, holding his sore arm against him, feeling a little shocked. A portable dvd player ,and he could have it for the next week? And all it took was for him to beat up his handler?

Thomas let Spencer go as he walked over towards the cross where Timothy was still hanging. Timothy looked pitiful, held up only by the straps with his dark red butt on full display, his face a mess of tears and leaking snot from his nose.

"This is the first part of your punishment." Thomas said to his son as he reached up and started to undo the straps. Timothy didn't have the strength right away to hold himself up as he slumped against the cross. Then he slipped and fell backwards onto his abused butt and squealed into his gag from the intense pain he suddenly felt as he landed on such abused flesh.

"Trust me, you are no where near done with your punishment Timothy. And you can stop feeling sorry for yourself. No-one is feeling sorry for you right now." Thomas said as he crossed his arms and looked down at his crying son without feeling any pity for him.

Timothy looked up at his father as he realised the gag was still in his mouth and started to hastily untie it, whimpering as each movement made his butt ache as he moved on the floor. He managed to pull himself to his knees and get some pressure off his butt and a slight bit of relief from the pain. He undid the strap on the back of his head and furiously wrenched the gag from his mouth, taking in a deep breath of air as he looked up at his father in fury.

"You..you can't do this to me." Timothy said in anger as he brought a hand up to wipe his slimy face clean as he panted for breath and tried to get his crying under control as he sniffed and snorted. "I'm...I'm calling child services the minute we get home...I'm going to report you dad. I'm reporting you for child abuse and assault," he said as he pointed an accusatory finger up at his father.

Thomas did not look impressed and slapped Timothy's hand hard. Timothy let out a yelp and quickly brought his hand to his stomach as he held it there protectively. He sat back on his legs and knees as he glared up at his father, trying to look furious through the coating of snot and saliva on his face.

"No television. No internet. I am confiscating your computer and all your games systems," Thomas said in a stern voice. "I am also confiscating your cellphone. And anything else I can think of that you derive pleasure from." Thomas said as Timothy looked up at him in horror. "I have also called your school. You are suspended from your team until further notice. And you are going to summer school and getting private torturing on the weekends to get your grades back up."

"Dad... you can't do this." Timothy whimpered as he felt his life crumbling around him very quickly. He whimpered and gave several rather disgusting sounding sniffles as he inhaled a large amount of snot.

"Timothy, I have enslaved my eldest son over a minor infringement, and I have had you physically punished for something much more serious in the eyes of the law. The only reason you are not joining Matt at the B.O.S.S. Is because you have no record," Thomas said as he crossed his arms. "What exactly is making you still believe I can't do any of this to you?" he demanded.

Timothy said nothing as he gave another whimper and rubbed his hands slowly over his abused butt, trying to bring some relief to the tenderised flesh.

"I am going to drop you off at school and pick you up at schools end every day. You will stay at home all day and night. You are grounded indefinitely." Thomas said as he looked down at his son. "You are not allowed visitors and you are not permitted to go anywhere without me, unless it is an absolute emergency," he said firmly.

Timothy whimpered and looked down at the floor, looking as wretched and as miserable as he felt. He had never been punished this much in his life and it was breaking him down quicker then he could handle it. His life was collapsing, everything he was used to doing and getting was being taken away from him, and he was feeling more and more helpless by the minute.

"And since you did not question me and spoke to me in such a way right after your punishment, I'm also taking the keys to your car and putting it in storage." Thomas said. Timothy looked up at his father in utter horror as he heard about his car being taken away. He wanted to scream at his father and protest, but wisely and perhaps smartly for the first time in his life, he shut his mouth and didn't say a word.

"For the time being, all of this is indefinite," Thomas said. "And if I hear one complaint, one whimper of this being unfair, or even a question of how much longer this going to take, you will stay punished until you either graduate from college or you have proven to me that you have actually learned your lesson," Thomas said. "although I'm not holding my breath for either," he admitted. "Now pick yourself up, you look like shit."

Timothy did not say a word as he slowly stood up, holding onto his red and battered backside and trying to hold back the tears as he took several deep sniffs, snorting up a bit more snot and actually coughing as it lodged in his throat.

"Now, go and wait in the car. Don't bother with your clothes. Just get in and sit there, NOW!" Thomas said as he pointed away from him and towards the edge of the shelving where Spencer had just appeared, carrying a large box under his arm. Spencer didn't say anything as he walked over to the desk and placed the box on its surface.

"Thomas, I just have to make a few calls to get a car locked up in storage, so I will be a bit longer in your office." Thomas said to Spencer as Timothy started to walk away, holding onto himself. "Then you can get back to business. Again Spencer, thank you." Thomas said to him.

"Kids these days, am I right?" Spencer said with a chuckle to him. "I was glad to help. Anyway, he's your kid. You have the right to punish him anyway you see fit." Spencer said. "Not my place to judge how you raise your kids," he said with a chuckle. Thomas smiled back at him as he turned and headed back in the direction of the office.

Timothy stopped walking for a moment as his father passed by him, the boy still holding onto himself as he looked over his shoulder, watching his father pass behind him. When his father cleared his vision, something else replaced it.

He saw Spencer walked up to Matt and start to talk to him, reaching out with a hand and placing it on Matt's shoulder. Timothy could not hear what was being said, but he saw a look on Spencer's face as the bigger blackwargreymon brought his hand down Matt's arm and gave his bicep rather soft squeeze.

The cloud of sympathy and self pity that Timothy was feeling for himself started to clear rather quickly as he watched Spencer rub Matt's arm softly, then cup his chin with his other hand, a rather soft and voicing smile appearing on his face.

Timothy's' eyes went wide as he saw Matt look up and say something back, the words unheard but he saw how Matt gave a smile back and give Spencer such a loving look up to him that Timothy had no doubt whatsoever about the feelings those two shared.

All of this happened in a moment, just a moment of time when Timothy saw something that he never saw before, something he wasn't supposed to see or something he had always seen but never registered. Just a fleeting moment really, but it was long enough for Timothy to see that there was more to Spencer and Matt then he should have known.

And he felt a rage building. As Timothy started to walk naked and humiliated down the center aisles of the warehouse, visible to the workers who made a point of making it known he could be seen, he felt a rage building inside of him unlike any he had ever felt before.

His father had ruined his life over a stupid little mistake. An authority figure below him had helped set him up for a public humiliation. And a slave had dared to injure him in such a fashion.

And that fucker Spencer, he was trying to steal his slave from him. Slaves were supposed to love their owners and handlers, not some overseer who was just a glorified babysitter and did nothing at all. Spencer was trying to corrupt Matt against him and take him away from him.

Timothy felt the rage build inside him and overpower the humiliation and degradation that he had been feeling. And now all he could see was one single idea and emotion that he was going to pursue until he had his life back on track and his slave broken at his feet where the bitch belong.

And that drive, was simply revenge.