Journal entry # 2040


Journal:

I am standing to type this entry, and I am mentally kicking myself because I knew better. Today has been a rotten day from start to finish and it is only early evening now. My head is pounding and my eyes are aching but those aren't even the biggest problem. That would be my ass which feels like you could roast marshmallows with the heat emanating from it. And just a note I never did like marshmallows. They serve no purpose.

And how might you ask did this all come about? Well like all good stories (or in this case bad stories) I need to start at the beginning. That would be sometime last summer when I was driving my Porsche like all good Porsche's should be driven both fast and hard and I managed to almost hit Clark. (I still have nightmares about that almost thing.) And Mom and Pop decided that I should spend the summer on the farm with them.

In those days there weren't Mom and Pop yet just Mr. and Mrs. Kent. But somehow because of living with them I began to make some realizations about my life. For example the whole family thing which Lionel had made such a grand effort to convince me did not exist was indeed alive and thriving in Smallville on the Kent farm. And for some inexplicable reason they wanted to pseudo- adopt me into theirs.

And in typical Luthor fashion I fought it for all that I was worth. This in a nice round about way brings me back to today's story. (Everyone knows that any author worth his salt has to come to grips with the whole continuity thing.) I had no problem with the hard physical labor that it takes to run a farm. And I actually liked interacting with Clark- it was as if he filled a hole in my life. Big surprise my life was so full of holes at that time that it resembled Swiss cheese.

Of course there was Mom. It had been so long since someone had actually taken care of me that I had forgotten what it felt like. Immediately I knew that I wanted nothing more that to be like Clark and know that she was the Mom in my life. (It still astounds me to realize that she is now just that to me.) But as every story has a plot twist this one is no different. Enter Jonathon Kent, farmer and father and husband and guy who takes no shit.

I knew from the first day when he pretty much told me that I was staying to make up for what I had done and then told Lionel the same thing I knew I was in deep. First of all I hadn't been held accountable for my actions for a very long time. It went way back to before my Mother died. And if that wasn't enough of a warning what happened when I broke the rules for the first time should have clued me in.

This is where the story gets unbelievable (to me anyway). Because what happened then was that Jonathon Kent- father sent Lex Luthor- pseudo son up to my room where he there gave me the first spanking that I had ever had, and at eighteen no less. He likes to use the term "spanking" the definition of which is "a beating with the flat of the hand on somebody's buttocks, given as punishment". Only in this instance because I am such a hard case it incorporated an extra fun part which included a belt.

Having lived my life as the son of billionaire Lionel Luthor whose idea of punishment was totally psychological this whole physical punishment was an entirely different deal.
For one thing it hurt- really hurt. And then there was the whole how humiliating is this to be bent over someone's knees and getting your posterior soundly smacked. Add to that the feature of struggling and still being unable to get up until he was ready to stop and let me up. And did I mention that it hurt?

Crying is not something that my real father ever allowed and I learned early on to just block out emotional pain. But for some unexplained reason Pop encouraged me to cry after he thoroughly scorched my behind. And I did and it felt so good to let it go. I wasn't sure that night if I was ever going to be able to stop crying once I started. And even though I'm jumping ahead of the story there hasn't been a time since then when he "spanked" me that I didn't cry-a lot. And yes that's right he has invited me back over his knee a few more times since then. But I guess invited is the wrong word because with an invitation you actually have the ability to say no.

So like all intelligent readers you're probably asking yourself right about now why I didn't just walk or even drive away. I mean it wasn't as if I was a child now was it?
But maybe I was just that. Maybe it felt good to let someone else take control of my out of control life for a while. God knows my biological father never cared enough to bother.
And maybe the thing I'm not conveying here is that these people loved me, then and now.

I am still shocked about that myself. Even typing it I still can't believe it but it's true. To this day Mom cooks for me and calls me at college on a cold day and wants to know if I'm dressed warmly enough. And am I eating? That might seem very overprotective to anyone else, but to someone who has never had it- well let's just say it's something I never want to live without again.

And Pop- what about him? When he's not busy applying his hand to my often deserving butt, he's talking to me. Lionel never had much to say other than to express his supreme disapproval to me at all times. And Pop is just the opposite of that. He wants to know my opinion on everything and often listens to my advice. He is big with the hug and the words "I'm proud of you Lex" which I had honestly never heard before the Kent farm.

And as if all this wasn't quite enough then there is Clark. Never having had a brother I can't say for sure but this must be what that feels like. He is the one person I could tell anything to (and often do.) He is growing and changing on a daily basis and it's a fine thing to both watch and be a part of. He is becoming so much like Pop although neither of them seems to see that. He is one of the best parts of my new life and I would do anything for him. This actually brings us back to the story of the day. Didn't I just say continuity is important to the storyline?

And I'm unsure whether I mentioned this or not but I'm not the only one around here who often finds himself staring at the carpet from the head down and butt up position. Little brother Clark is there at least as much as I am. And with as much as I hate the sting of Pop's hand on my rather delicate butt I honestly would rather be in that position than for Clark to be there. There is something so earnest and just sweet about Clark and it just breaks my heart when Pop punishes him. So much so that the last time they actually sent me into the thriving metropolis that is Smallville on an errand so that I would miss the whole thing.

My day started out nicely today but then totally went south from there. I came home last night to spend the weekend with my family. (It still seems unreal to actually say that.) And this morning I had helped Pop with some of the chores and we had a pretty good conversation about current events and how they have affected the farmer. I know it sounds boring but it wasn't, he actually has a good grip on the economy. I went into the kitchen for a glass of water and it shortly thereafter hit the proverbial fan.

Long story short Clark came in and was upset because he did something that he knew would result in another trip over Pop's knee. Then Pop came in and began questioning guilty boy about the deed that he had just confessed to me. And at this point I need to point out that Clark is a terrible liar. He is easily the worst liar that I have ever seen.

I however am a Luthor and we are the kings of the liars. I can lie both easily and well. One of life's blessings for me is a flawless poker face. So when Pop asked Clark point blank if he did what he had indeed done I stepped up to the plate. Poker face in place I said "no sir I did it". I knew that this would result in my getting another all expenses paid trip across Pop's knee, but if it saved Clark's ass I could deal with it. Did I mention that I'm now nineteen and quite the hero, thank you very much?

Jonathon Kent looked me squarely in the face and told me that I was lying. I felt a crack in my devious façade but denied the truth. He couldn't possibly know that I wasn't telling the truth. I was so good at lying that I had even practiced it in the mirror. My performances were always flawless. And so he warned me to fess up and tell the truth and even though the little voice in my head was screaming "don't screw around here" I ignored it and continued to profess my innocence (actually my guilt), in my best the whole truth and nothing but the truth voice.

I then moved to stand in front of little brother who I knew would crumble like a cookie and sing like a canary. I knew that I was in for it but at least I could spare his butt.
Pop easily pushed me aside to get to Clark the boy scout- who could not tell a lie and all it took was one little look and a hand on the shoulder and he admitted that he had done it.


It was at this point that I started to quietly travel in the direction of the door. When I arrived there I had planned to say something along the lines of "Well I think everything's under control here so I'll just go out and feed the chickens." I realize that I have no clue when the stupid chickens are supposed to eat but it sounded plausible. In fact it was a good plan until Pop stopped me in my tracks with just a look and two words- "bedroom, now." Shit, shit and shit I knew what was coming and I just hoped that he would still let Clark off the hook.

So I came up here and sat down on the bed thinking that it was the last sitting that I would probably be doing for a while. (And it was.) I didn't have to wait very long before I heard Pop go into Clark's room and I held my breath hoping he would be the lucky winner of a stern talking to. Unfortunately within a few minutes I could hear the all too familiar sound of a large palm addressing the issues on Clark's butt. And if that wasn't bad enough then I could hear him crying out. I know he knew when he made the poor decision what would happen but even still I just wished that Pop would stop already.

And as if he knew what I was thinking he did just that. He wasn't nearly as hard on Clark as usual and I was at least glad for that. I however didn't think I was going to be so lucky.
I knew just how strongly Jonathon Kent felt about lying and I knew that I was about to get a little reminder about that very thing. And while I was feeling really bad about Clark's spanking I knew that soon I would be feeling really bad in a whole different way.

I didn't have to wait very long before I heard the knock at my door and knew that it was
my turn. Pop opened the door and the first unsettling thing that I noticed was that he had a wooden hairbrush in his hand. I knew for damn sure that he wasn't planning on brushing my hair with it. The butterflies in my stomach turned into 747's as he entered and closed the door behind him.

He then proceeded to give me a long lecture about lying and trying to take the blame for Clark. I swear to God my eyes never left that hairbrush the whole time. He then suggested that we "just get it over with" and I swallowed a lump the size of a grapefruit and nodded my head. I often wonder where smooth, cool Lex goes during these times because he certainly had left the building. My anxiety level was sky high and I think I might have been hyperventilating. And the next thing he said didn't help my situation any.

He told me that I would be getting two spankings, one for trying to take the blame for Clark and one for lying. Because apparently lying is not a good thing in Kent land, and that punishment would be with the hairbrush. (Like none of us saw that coming.) I wasn't sure what it would feel like to be smacked on the butt with a wooden hairbrush but I knew that Pop's hand hurt like hell, so I could only imagine that it wasn't going to be good. Oh and lucky me I didn't have long to wait to find out.

Before I could say "Please don't spank me" Pop had the desk chair out in the center of the room and he was sitting on it and motioning for me to walk over there. I swear he must know that walk is agonizing and it always seems both too long and too short. As soon as I got within touching range he reached out and used his hand on my arm to pull me over his lap. And I'm butt up and wondering just how I manage to get myself into this position so often. And I'm trying my hardest to convince myself that one little hairbrush can't hurt that much.

As usual Pop didn't waste any more time with lecturing, he just raised his hand and brought it down hard on my behind. And before I know it he was smacking side to side and I'm fighting the urge to cry. I know that Clark is still in his room and can hear me just as I could hear him. And while he got me into this I still don't want him to feel worse. And then there was always my dignity to consider. My face was wet with tears and as always it seemed as if Pop's hand didn't miss a single inch of my behind. I was soon doing the little dance that I always do trying to avoid the stinging smacks. But as usual he just got a tighter hold and continued.

Just as I thought that if he didn't stop soon I was going to have to give in to the urge and just howl, he did indeed stop. He rested his hand on my already warm butt for a moment. My heart began to jackhammer in my chest because I knew he wasn't finished by a long shot. As if to validate that that was the truth he reached over and picked up the hairbrush.

It didn't help my anxiety level any that he got an even tighter grip on my waist. And then God help us he apologized to me for having to punish me like this. I knew right then and there that I was in deep shit. But he didn't give me any additional time to panic because he brought the brush down on the right side of my butt and it made a loud cracking noise.

The sting was as vicious as anything I have ever felt and I hadn't yet recovered when he gave the other side the same harsh treatment. It felt as if my entire ass was on fire and I had received exactly two swats so far. Screw the whole dignity issue I began sobbing and wailing. Being a Luthor I am not particularly comfortable asking for things, I am much better with telling, but right out of the gate I was just plain old begging Pop to stop with the brush. I promised anything just as long as he would stop.

But he didn't, not right away. My butt was just alive with the sting that the hairbrush was delivering. I think he must only have given me about ten solid smacks but it felt like a hundred. I was carrying on so badly that I wasn't even aware that he had stopped until I felt him rubbing my back with both hands. For a second I couldn't figure out how he could rub my back with both hands and still smack me with the brush.

He left me in what I like to think of as the spanking position for a few minutes. He continued to rub my back and say all the comforting things that he always says after. I was fighting as hard as I could to get back control and stop crying like some hysterical girl. Usually spankings are very emotional for me, yes they do hurt a little (some times more than a little), but this time my butt was just blazing and I didn't know how to make the pain or emotions stop.

Never am I out of control of my life. The closest I've come has been the times over Pop's knee, knowing that he was in charge and not I. And while that has actually been a good experience for me in a lot of ways it has also been difficult too. I was hoping beside the bite of the brush that maybe he had some sage old wisdom to go with my super-sized helping of smacked butt. And of course he did.

He then pulled me to my feet and gently pulled me onto his lap. Even with the "gentle" I still howled when my butt hit his muscular legs. Remember Pop is a farmer and does the farm chores work-out seven days a week and all of him is solid as a rock. At this point I'm still struggling with all my strength to get it back together. As I said before I knew that Clark was hearing this whole thing and I know how he tries to take responsibility for everything bad that ever happens. I had to pull it back together for him at least, and for me too.

Pop just continued to rub my back and tell me that he and Mom loved me and were proud of me. This always blows me away when he says that and especially when I'm feeling so punished. And trust me I was still feeling very punished. (And still am for the record.)
He told me that lying was the worst thing that I could do. That a man's word is his bond and that it was all we ever really had. Apparently no one ever told Lionel this because lying to him is an art form. But he isn't the man that Pop is and never will be.

Lastly he made me promise to never forget today because he didn't want to repeat the lesson ever. Normally I am the picture of respect around Pop because he has earned my respect, but that comment caused me to make a remark that I normally wouldn't have made to him. I think what I said was "You have to be fucking kidding me!" Lucky for me I guess he felt I had suffered enough because all I got was the raised eyebrow in warning.

How he could think that I would ever just forget about today was beyond the scope of even my prolific imagination. For starters I'm pretty sure that my ass is permanently damaged. And if by some miracle it eventually stops throbbing I know that my psyche will be throbbing for a long time to come. And my whole career as a con artist is pretty much a total loss as every time I ever even think about lying I will see that damn hairbrush in my head. I'm thinking seriously that honesty is my new best policy.
And that thought alone will get me kicked out of the Luthor hall of shame.

The rest of the afternoon hasn't been too bad, other than the obvious over warm butt. Mom came up at some point and brought me a snack, two aspirins and all the sympathy I could stand. (Which was a lot). I had just gotten the whole crying thing under control and all it took was a Mom hug and I was back to square one. She and Pop always present a united front but I could tell that she felt bad about the hairbrush. And knowing how she always defends both Clark and me I figured that she had probably given Pop a serious piece of her mind on the subject. Knowing that Clark and I weren't the only ones to suffer the consequences of our actions somehow made me feel minimally better.

And then even though I had been told not to I snuck over to Clark's room to make sure that he was okay. Just as I had figured he was totally blaming himself for my predicament. He would not be convinced otherwise and I was reminded once again of how damn stubborn he and Pop can be. Finally he admitted that I do make my own decisions and do know the difference between the truth and a lie.

The biggest admission I made was that I did deserve what Pop had done. And even Clark who has me on a pretty lofty pedestal had to agree. It wasn't like I didn't know exactly what was going to happen. And don't forget that I managed to get us both punished but what the hell we were in it together. So we left things between us like it always had been.

I wasn't happy that Clark had to listen to me getting my untruthful behind smacked but I was sort of glad that at least he knows now nothing good comes of lying. Because in my new position of older and more experienced bro the one thing I don't want to do is teach him any bad habits. And with Jonathon Kent watching me like a hawk I might want to rethink the whole having bad habits thing. As he is always more than ready to help me see the fault of my often erroneous ways. And while I love the way he and Mom take care of me I'm hoping that the next time I get the idea way before we reach the hairbrush stage of the situation.

Well so ends the long and convoluted story of my career as a liar. Short and definitely not so sweet. I hear Mom calling Clark and I for dinner and I know that she will have the table filled with all of our favorites. And there will be another big loving hug from Pop even though I know that all is forgiven. And we will sit down then (some of us on a cushion) and do the family dinner thing that families have been doing since the beginning of time. (Although then they sat around a roaring fire-but you get my drift).

I know you're probably surprised that billionaire Lex Luthor who is incredibly handsome and suave finds himself in this situation. The truth is (ah my old friend the truth) - I love these people and I love this place. I love knowing that when I'm gone they miss me and I miss them. I even love knowing that someone is watching over the choices I make and trying to help me make better ones. I love being someone's son and I really love being someone's big brother. I'll never be Clark, but for some reason they love me for who I am.

So for now I will end my little story about the day Lex faced the music (and the hairbrush) and go downstairs and have dinner with my family. In closing I have to say that the one person I feel sorry for is my real father. He had a chance to have all this and because of his bitterness and blind ambition he cast it and me aside.

For so long I thought that that choice had something to do with me. As time goes on I realize that it was all about him and only him. Living here and being loved has shown me that and so much more. Well again dinner (and my family) is waiting so I'll close for now.

Lex

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