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A Lesson Learned



"Starsk, I'm sorry," Hutch said for what must have been the hundredth time.

His lover was not known for holding grudges, especially where Hutch was concerned. However, he could be a vengeful times and that was what Hutch was really worried about. He knew Starsky would forgive him. Hell, he'd probably already forgiven him. But that didn't mean his partner wasn't going to get even.

Starsky didn't say a word as they walked up the steps to Hutch's apartment. He didn't trust himself to open his mouth right now. If he did, he wouldn't be liable for what came out. As it was it was all he could do to keep from dragging that partner of his over his knee and paddling his ass good.

The picture of Hutch bent over his lap, naked ass in the air nearly caused Starsky to trip going up the stairs. He caught himself on the railing and growled when Hutch laid a steadying hand on his back. He smiled to himself when he felt that hand jerk away quickly. Maybe that's what Hutch needed to get through to him. God knew talking to the fool wasn't working.

His decision made, Starsky stalked up the stairs, his smile widening. This was going to be fun. And by the time he was finished, one Kenneth Hutchinson would have a much better understanding of a few basic principles.

Hutch paused outside the apartment door. Something wasn't right. He could feel it. Every sense he had was screaming DANGER! But this was Starsky. And Starsky would never hurt him. Swallowing hard, he walked inside and closed the door behind him.

"Lock it," Starsky ordered, his voice low and angry sounding. The tone, as well as the words, made Hutch flinch, but he did as he was told. This was definitely not the time for disobedience. "Now strip."

Hutch swallowed hard and started unbuttoning his shirt. The feral light in his partner's eyes made his heart beat faster and his palms sweat. This was a Starsky he saw only rarely - dangerous and sexy as sin. Hutch wasn't sure if he wanted to run screaming from the room or crawl over and kneel at his feet.

The shirt slipped off of Hutch's strong shoulders and down his arms to land in a puddle on the floor. Hutch locked eyes with his partner then bent down to remove his shoes. He purposely flexed the muscles in his back and shoulders, trying to get his lover's attention. If it worked, Starsky wasn't showing it.

Rising slowly, Hutch let his hands linger at his waist for a moment before popping open the buttons on his pants. He made a show of slowly working both pants and underwear over his ass and down his long legs. When they were bunched at his feet, Hutch stepped out of them to stand naked before his partner.

"You really think you're somethin', don'tcha, partner?" Starsky asked, his voice hard and accusing.

Hutch drew back at the cold words, suddenly unsure. It was clear his seduction attempts were both unwanted and unappreciated. Was it possible that Starsky was more angry than he'd thought? Hutch had thought, when his lover ordered him to strip, that he had released the worst of his anger. Apparently that wasn't the case.

"What, got nothin' to say?" Starsky taunted.

"Starsk...I, um..." Hutch began only to trail off. He wasn't sure what to say to diffuse the situation. His earlier erection was gone, a victim of his growing confusion.

"Shut it, Blintz," Starsky ordered. He was not in the mood to listen to Hutch stammering out an apology right now. What he wanted was obedience, pure unquestioning obedience. And Hutch was going to give it to him.

A dozen retorts ran through Hutch's mind when Starsky told him to shut up. He said none of them. He knew if he did that Starsky was likely to pound him into next week. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain to Dobey how he ended up back in the hospital.

"Now you are going to do exactly what I tell you to do," Starsky continued.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes," Hutch replied, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Good boy," Starsky said. "It's nice to see you still know how to follow orders. And before you open that mouth of yours, don't. You don't speak unless I ask you a direct question. You can moan, but if it gets on my nerves, I'll gag you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Hutch replied, the fine tremor in his body shouting his apprehension.

Starsky was well and truly angry with him and he was going to make Hutch pay.

"You remember that antique silver brush you bought last month? Go get it and bring it to me," Starsky instructed.

While Hutch hurried to find the brush, Starsky hung up his jacket and gun and sat down on the couch. He made sure he was in the center, leaving room on either side of him. Hutch was a pretty tall guy and Starsky wanted to make sure he had plenty of room.

When Hutch came out of the bedroom he was surprised to find Starsky seated on the couch waiting for him. At Starsky's beckoning, Hutch moved closer, very aware of his vulnerable state. He knew what Starsky wanted with the hairbrush and it had nothing to do with grooming. As he stepped closer, Hutch wondered if he could do it. Could he really allow another man to raise his hand to him and not fight back?

"I can tell what you're thinkin' and you need to stop right now," Starsky said. "You know damn well you're gonna take whatever it is I wanna give ya and be happy to get it. Now gimme that brush and lay down across my lap."

Starsky took the brush from Hutch's outstretched hand and waited for him to position himself. Once he was settled on his lap, Starsky spread his legs and tucked Hutch's genitals between them. Closing his legs, Starsky held them firmly in place, both to protect them and to prevent Hutch from moving around too much.

Hutch couldn't stop the shudder that ran through him when Starsky closed his legs on his penis and balls. His partner used just enough pressure to hold him without being painful. It was erotic and at the same time let Hutch know that he wasn't going anywhere. At least not until Starsky was finished with him.

"I'm sorry," Hutch said again, breaking the rule about not talking.

"I know," Starsky replied, running his hand over the trembling body that lay across his lap. "But if you speak without prompting again, I'll go outside and find a switch to use."

Hutch clamped his mouth shut and nodded his understanding. The last thing he wanted was for Starsky to stripe him. He'd done it once before when Hutch had really pissed him off. It was not something he wanted to repeat. He hadn't been able to sit down for days after Starsky was finished with him.

"Do you know why I'm doing this?" Starsky asked, laying the cool brush against Hutch's backside.


"Tell me," Starsky demanded.

"Because I was a jerk," Hutch replied. "Because I lied to you about my amnesia. Because I hurt you."

"I know my driving landed us both in the hospital. But wakin' up in that room, not knowing if you were alive or dead was punishment enough. I didn't need you screwin' with my head. And I didn't need you rippin' my heart out." Starsky's voice broke on the last as the memory of Hutch's callous behavior came back.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just..." Hutch trailed off, unsure how to put his feelings into words.

"I understand why you did it," Starsky said. "But you gotta understand that I'm not gonna stand by and let you treat me like that. Your actions have consequences. The consequences today coulda been a lot worse. You could be pickin' out a new partner right now insteada havin' your naked body spread out across my lap.

"So now I gotta decide how many licks to give ya," Starsky continued. "I'm thinking twenty to start and if ya can keep from cryin' out that's all it'll be. But if you make any noise, I'll start all over again. How's that sound to you?"

"Sounds like it could be a lot," Hutch choked out. He'd be black and blue by the time Starsky finished with him. But being black and blue from his lover's hand was a far cry better than losing his partner. Whatever punishment Starsky gave him, he more than deserved for the stunt he pulled.

"It is," Starsky said. "It's gonna hurt like hell by the time it's over, too. And when I fuck you, it's gonna hurt even more. But maybe it'll be enough to remind you that even if what we got between us ain't important to you, it's sure as hell important to me."

"It is important to me," Hutch came back. "Starsk, I swear it is."

"Then prove it to me," Starsky countered. "Lie here and take your medicine like a good boy."

"Alright," Hutch agreed. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Starsky said. "Count 'em out for me, babe. Make sure I don't miss any."

Hutch's only reply was the nod of his head. He would follow the rules and remain silent except to count out each painful reminder of his deceit. He knew there was no way he would make it through twenty strokes without crying out. His lover was too good at this. He could only trust Starsky not to leave him in too bad of shape.

Starsky ran the back of the brush over his lover's upturned ass, sending a shiver through the waiting figure. He'd done this before with Hutch, when he gotten so out of hand that Starsky found he had no choice but to resort to the most physical of responses. It had worked well then and he knew it would work now.

Some people would call it abuse or domestic violence or any number of other things, but it wasn't. What it was, was a cleansing. A way for Hutch to let go of all the shit that built up inside him, shit he couldn't seem to let go of any other way. And it was a way for Starsky to show his stubborn, bull-headed partner that there was nothing he could need that Starsky would not give.

Starsky pulled the brush back and brought it down hard and fast on Hutch's rear. The impact of the blow flattened the pale mound and when Starsky pulled the brush away the flesh sprang back angry and red.

Hutch gasped as the brush made contact with his flesh. He did his best to smother his cry by calling out "one" loudly. He hadn't expected Starsky to hit him that hard. Not the first time. Normally his lover worked up to the hard swats. The fact that Starsky was putting everything he had into this showed Hutch just how hurt his lover truly was. At this rate, he'd be lucky if he could even walk in the morning.

The brush came down again, hard and fast, and Hutch called out "two" as he gasped at the pain. He writhed on Starsky's lap and a strong arm settled across his back to hold him in place. It seemed Starsky was determined to make him cry out and therefore start the punishment all over again. Biting his lip hard, Hutch waited for the next blow to fall.

Starsky watched as Hutch's ass once more flattened then sprang back an angry red. He knew he was being harder on his lover than normal, but what Hutch had done had been intentionally cruel. At one point, it had been all Starsky could do to keep from walking away, certain the man he loved was lost to him forever.

As he recalled those bleak moments in the hospital room he brought the brush down twice in rapid succession. They were up to four. Only sixteen more to go and Hutch's ass was already darkening toward crimson. Knowing if he wasn't careful, he could do his lover serious harm, Starsky changed his attack.

The next two blows came down on the lower part of Hutch's backside, where butt and thigh met. It was Hutch's most tender area and Starsky was careful to put considerably less power in his blows. As it was Hutch writhed and moaned, barely able to contain his cry of pain.

"Seven!" Hutch cried out as the brush came down on his rump again. His ass felt like it was on fire and he could only imagine what it must look like.

Starsky paused for a moment, giving his lover a chance to rest. He cast a surreptitious glance at Hutch's face and saw that it was free of tears. This wouldn't be over until his blond got the catharsis he needed. Taking a deep breath, Starsky brought the brush down three times in the exact same spot.

It was all Starsky could do to hold his lover in place as Hutch rode out the pain. He let him move, careful that he didn't end up on the floor, but otherwise unrestricting.

"Half way there," Starsky said once Hutch had settled down. "Your ass matches the Torino, but it won't for long."

Again and again the brush rained down, slamming into Hutch's backside. Starsky watched as the round orbs went from red to crimson to a startling purple color. He was beginning to have doubts about actually being able to fuck Hutch when he was finished.

"Nineteen!" Hutch cried out as the brush fell again. He was almost there.

All he had to do was get through one more and it would be over.

Hutch closed his eyes as he waited for the brush to fall and thought of his partner. He thought of the pain on the other man's face when he'd thought Hutch all but lost to him. He thought of the selfless way his partner had told him story after story, regardless of how reliving those memories made him feel. He thought of horrible sound of defeat in Starsky's voice right before he'd confessed his treachery.

"I'm sorry," Hutch gasped out as the last blow fell and the damn finally burst. The tears that couldn't seem to find a way out any other way were at last released. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Starsky breathed a sigh of relief as his lover's tears finally came. Dropping the brush, he carefully maneuvered Hutch until he was wrapped in his arms. Starsky did his best to keep his lover's backside from touching the couch, but it was difficult with Hutch trying to get clear inside his skin.

"It's okay, baby," Starsk crooned as he held his lover. "Everything's all right now. I've got you. And I ain't ever gonna let you go. Get it out, boy. Just get it out."

After what seemed like forever the tears tapered off. Starsky still held him tight, letting his lover take what solace he could from his embrace. Fucking Hutch was definitely out of the question. Hell, sleeping was going to prove difficult enough.

"Are you going to fuck me now?" Hutch asked, as if sensing his thoughts.

"No," Starsky said. "You're not in any shape for that, buddy. I thought I might have you lie down while I put some ice on your butt."

"No," Hutch said. "I want you to finish it."

"It is finished, baby blue," Starsky assured him. "We don't have to have sex to finish it. Your ass is purple. It's gotta hurt like hell right now. I can't imagine me trying to take you with you in that kind of pain."

"I...I know, but..."

"But what?" Starsky prodded.

"I want that bond with you," Hutch said. "I want to feel you inside me. I need to know I haven't screwed everything up."

"That's what this was all about," Starsky said, still not liking the idea of taking Hutch right now. "Letting you know that even with what you pulled, I'm still here."

"If you won't fuck me...can I suck you at least?" Hutch asked. He hated being this needy, even around Starsky. But he couldn't help it. He was always like this after a "session". He needed to bond with his lover. He just had to make Starsky understand.

"You always get like this," Starsky said, his thoughts taking the same path as his partner's. "Yes, you can suck me, but you need to do it from your knees and be careful not to put any weight on your butt."

"Don't worry, Starsk. That I can manage."

"Let me help you onto the floor," Starsky said, carefully lowering his lover to the floor between his legs. "I don't want you to fall."

"Like you'd ever let me fall," Hutch murmured.

Once he was settled, Hutch pushed Starsky back against the couch and set about undoing his pants. Starsky sat quietly, letting Hutch take the lead as he so clearly wanted. He never quite understood why Hutch needed this so badly after one of their sessions, but he couldn't refuse the man. If his lover wanted to feel some part of him inside his body, then Starsky would find a way to give it to him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt Hutch's mouth close over the head of his cock. Starsky forced himself not to thrust as he let his lover set the pace. Luckily for him, Hutch knew better than to drag this out right now. The hot mouth on his cock knew just how to please him best and before he knew it Starsky was arching up and coming.

Hutch moaned around the cock in his mouth when he felt his lover swell inside his mouth. A second later and the first jet of come was pulsing against his tongue then sliding down his throat. His ass still ached and burned as he suckled his lover and Hutch felt a tear roll down his face.

This was love. No matter what anyone else said, this was love. And he would sell his soul before he would betray it again.