No spoilers for this one, completely made up scenario with Dean being 18 and Sam being 14!

I don't own anyone but god I wish I did

This story contains spanking/corporal punishment, you have been warned

It was a major hunt and a major deal. Dean was pumped. He had been up since before the crack of dawn and was sharpening his knives, cleaning his guns, going over and over his gear in the duffel bag he had laid out on his bed. Was he forgetting anything?

It was one of the first times he was someone real important to his dad on a hunt. He was gonna be the right hand man, the sidekick, well the extremely talented and much better looking sidekick, the wing man. And Sammy was coming too. Dad had tried to convince Bobby but he wasn't really having it. He was the brains and the research of the team, he really didn't see a lot of action. Probably mostly because he thought the Winchesters were a bunch of "idjits" and never listened to reason. Or at least that's what he was always saying.

Dean couldn't help the self satisfied smirk that had found it's way onto his face. He was proud of himself. For once he had started an argument with dad and the man had listened! He had decided that yeah, he could use all the help he could get. Well then he said something about following orders and making sure his boys listened and growling and warning and threatening, blah blah, but it didn't matter. The vampires wouldn't stand a chance. The three Winchester men were ready and more then willing to show them the error of their ways.

It just wasn't cool to feed on people.

His day dream was interrupted by the bellow of John Winchester, ordering him for the last time to come down stairs.

"For the last time? Was there even a first?" Dean grumbled to himself as he hefted his duffel up on his shoulder and trudged downstairs. When he walked into the kitchen he met his dad's glare with one of his own, and then he turned the only remaining chair at the dining room table around backwards and sat down heavily in it. He wasn't taking any crap this morning, it was too good of a day.

John sighed as he watched his oldest enter and then turned back to the table, pointing at a page in his journal. Bobby was leaning up against the counter, listening thoughtfully to the plan and grimacing when he thought something was a bad idea. Sam was on Dean's right, his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands, mesmerized by the excitement and danger of the mission. John was explaining one specific detail about the vampire nest when Dean leaned back and remarked:

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Everyone froze, Bobby had his tell tale, 'the hell did you say?' look on his face and John visibly ground his teeth, keeping his gaze straight ahead. "Not a good idea, eh Dean? Well how bout this, you don't decide what's a good idea and what's a bad idea, I do. I'm your father and the senior hunter in this group." He turned to face his son, daring for him to say another word.

Dean noticed the moisture in his mouth suddenly vanish and chose not to respond, stunned for the moment into silence.

"As I was saying..." He continued with the details, outlining where everyone was most useful and their specific purposes in the grand scheme of things. John described how he was going to head around back and enter through the side door. He had been scoping the place out and noticed that it was never locked. It also immediately led to a pantry and there was hardly any traffic in that room. Once inside Sam was going to go around front and pretend that he was a curious kid that picked the wrong house to snoop around. At this point, the vampires would be completely trained on him. This would give John the chance to infiltrate their nest fully, gaining the upper hand in the fight that would soon ensue.

Dean couldn't contain himself. While Sammy was beaming, asking infinite questions about his obviously important role, he sharply demanded, "And where do I fit in?"

John sighed, for the second time today, and stared ahead as he spoke. "You, Dean, are going to be the scout. I need you in the trees, hidden, so that if anyone is out there you will be the first to know. It's extremely vital-"

"Bull shit! I wont stand around and watch you guys kill some blood thirsty vampires! I want in on the action! I'm the best partner you have dad, you can't be serious!" Dean was all worked up, his hands were fists. Sam leaned in immediately, nervous about the outcome of the fight, and whispered for his brother to calm down. He was tugging on Dean's sleeve but he shrugged him off.

"Son, this is not up for discussion. I know you think it's unfair-"

"Unfair? It's freaking retarded! How could you even think about leaving me out there? I hope you're joking dad because I'm coming with you. I'm going inside." He said it so matter-of-fact, like he was convinced that as long as he believed in his plight then his father would willingly be strung along. Dean was sadly mistaken.

Bobby tried to warn him but John was already in action. He shoved his seat back from the table and stood up. This was the second time Dean had interrupted him and it was going to be the last. "Outside."

His dad's steely tone made Dean's hackles rise but he kept his air of rebellion. "What? Why?"

Sam groaned and moved back into the center of his seat, knowing that his brother was past all help now and that he would have to wait until later to console him.

"Now." John was so close to the breaking point that even Bobby was on edge, silently pointing to the back door and mouthing for Dean to listen.

And what Dean did next was probably the worst move that he had ever made in his young life. "Make me."

Before he was even able to cross his arms in defiance John had Dean by the collar of his shirt and was yanking him up out of his seat and shoving him to the back door. He tried to protest, to take a stand and demand better treatment but there was no stopping him. John planted his hand on the back of Dean's neck and squeezed, swinging the door open and having it slam into the side of the house and forcing his child into the yard. While Dean let loose a string of curses John turned back to Bobby and ground out, "Give me a minute."

Bobby put his hands up in a sign of submission and agreement, making his way back to the table and patting Sam on the back who in turn laid his head on the cold surface before him to wait.

John spoke as he stalked toward Dean, unbuckling his belt and sliding it free of the loops of his jeans with such speed it was terrifying. Dean realized much too late what kind of dire situation he was in. All he could get out was a strangled "Don't!" as his dad latched on to his bicep and tagged him across his left butt cheek and halfway down his thigh.

"Make me, huh?" CRACK "Sounds like a challenge." CRACK "I don't know if you understand it yet Dean," CRACK "but I am not taking anymore of your lip." CRACK "And if you for one second think that you know better then I do," CRACK CRACK CRACK "then maybe you should reevaluate a little and realize some things."

His dad was so angry and Dean was starting to remember why he respected him so much. Besides all the obvious stuff his father could wield a belt like it was part of his arm! God it already hurt so bad Dean had started to thrash about, making it really hard to get to him. John grunted with renewed effort and planted his foot on one of the logs that had been cut earlier for firewood, swinging his son around and tossing him over his knee. Dean struggled even more but was much easier to handle this way, especially when John secured an arm around his son's waist and really laid into him.

"1. You are 18." Five licks with the belt taken in frustrated silence.

"2. You are extremely inexperienced." Five more licks with the belt that warranted a strangled yelp during the fifth one.

"3. You haven't yet learned all of your supernatural lore and vampires are something you really know nothing about!" And after that last point his dad brought out the big guns. He laid down stroke after burning stroke and wouldn't let up for nothin.

Dean was overtaken with emotion. He jerked and struggled hopelessly against the father he had purposefully baited and forced into this rage. He pleaded and begged for him to stop, promised to listen better and to follow orders, but there was just nothing he could do but wait it out. It was agonizing!

Finally, as soon as the first hiccup of a sob escaped Dean's now humbled lips, John stopped. He released his hold on his son and let him lay over his knee, Dean clutching his thigh in earnest after the painful whipping, and took a few deep breaths. John then threaded his belt back into his jeans and gently pulled Dean upright.

"You ready to listen to me, son?"

A deep breath and then, "Y-yes sir."
"Are we done with the attitude?"

Again, clearing his throat, "Yes sir."

John growled, "Then get back inside and turn your god damned chair back around and sit at the table like a human being."

Without hesitation and a scared shitless look on his face, Dean made his way back to the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with anybody but the ground, and silently righted his seat and very carefully planted his butt into it.

It hurt like hell and he couldn't keep the miserable look off his face as his father also took his seat and continued where he had left off. At one point John had put a finger under Dean's chin and lifted his face, not pausing for a moment as he talked, to silently warn him that his time for pouting was over.

Dean needed only that one gesture and straightened up instantly, keeping eye contact with his father for the entire rest of the meeting.

Later that night Sam had asked him if he was ok. Dean of course responded with some smart ass comment but his brother had always easily seen right through him. Sammy quietly got out of his bed and joined Dean in his own. It made him snort with a ruse of contempt but he ended up ruffling Sam's hair anyway and going to sleep with a grin on his face.

Tomorrow night would be the hunt of a lifetime that Dean would all but miss but at least he was with family and with their lives at stake there was no way he was going to let them down.