This was written for the Spankvent challenge over on the LiveJournal group
‘spanking_world’ December 2019. It was written in response to the following
prompt from daria234:
The Boys - Homelander spanks people he thinks have misbehaved - no one's about to stop him, so everyone just lets him. He's actually careful not to seriously hurt them, though. (Possible spankees are Hughie, Billy, the Deep, or Starlight.)
This is a ‘missing scene’ from Season 1 Episode 2 – Homelander finds out that The Deep gave some incriminating information to their boss, Stillwell. The show ‘The Boys’ is on Amazon Prime. It’s a dark take on what Superheros might actually be like. I highly recommend it.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters, and I’m not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non-consensual ‘disciplinary’ spanking of an adult by his sadistic leader.
The American Way
One of the many inconsequential staff members of Vought Inc. walked up to The Deep while he was preening in the mirror after working out.
“What?” he asked impatiently when the girl just stood there next to him.
“There’s a meeting in the conference room.”
Deep sighed. “Okay.” He meandered down the hall towards the conference room. The team tended to start meetings without him if he wasn’t there, so he saw no point in rushing. When he stepped through the doors, he stopped in his tracks. There sitting in his customary spot at the head of the big conference room table was the team leader, Homelander. He was alone, and his gloves were lying on the table in front of him.
“Oh.” Deep swallowed involuntarily. Homelander was often a literal type of guy, so if the gloves were off, this meeting was not going to end well. Hoping that he wasn’t the object of Homelander’s displeasure, Deep said, “I heard we were having a meeting.” He backed up a step, and turned to walk out. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“We are having a meeting,” Homelander said firmly. “Just you and me.”
Deep cringed and hoped to God this wasn’t about his meeting with Stillwell earlier. He plastered a congenial smile on his face before turning back around. “Okay.” He walked towards the table, and the doors slid shut behind him. His heartrate skyrocketed. He’d only had one other meeting alone with Homelander where the doors were shut, and it had ended very badly. He was a super hero with super human abilities and healing, but after that meeting, he’d been in pain all day. Swallowing hard, he continued walking to the conference table, and tried not to look as nervous as he felt.
He slowly eased himself down into a chair, as if his body remembered what had happened last time. “Is there something I can do for you?” He asked.
“Maybe you can explain something to me. Maybe I’m just stupid. Do I seem stupid to you, Deep?”
Deep scoffed, and quickly answered. “What? No. You’re smart. Very smart.”
“Right.” Homelander stood and started walking towards his teammate. “So what possible reason could there be…” He landed both of his hands on Deep’s shoulders, and squeezed in a not so gentle massage, “…for you to run to Stillwell and tell her what you thought you saw down there.”
Deep could feel himself perspiring now that Homelander’s hands were on him, and he started stuttering. “What? I… Well, I don’t… I don’t even know what I saw down there. It was really dark, and the water was really muddy, and… I’m sorry.”
Homelander pinched his shoulders even harder.
“I’m sorry,” Deep said again with as much humble honesty as he possessed. “And I… I didn’t see anything down there as a matter of fact.”
Homelander chuckled, let go of Deep’s shoulders, and ruffled his hair. “That’s what I thought.”
Deep took a breath, hoping that would be the end of it, now that Homelander was back to his normal voice instead of his scary angry voice.
“Yeah,” Homelander agreed, going back to Deep’s side. He patted Deep’s shoulder, and smiled, but then his hand moved to Deep’s throat, and his thumb rested on his adam’s apple.
Deep didn’t dare move a muscle or even swallow.
Homelander had his serious face on again. “And I trust we never have to have this conversation again.”
“No sir,” he whispered involuntarily. “Just this one.”
Homelander moved his hand back to Deep’s shoulder, and patted it with a smile. He chuckled and turned to walk towards the big window.
Deep forced a fake chuckle and watched with overwhelming relief as Homelander walked out of his personal space.
Homelander stared out the window and dismissed Deep with the words, “Okay, go fuck Shamu in the blowhole.”
“Right.” Forcing himself not to run, Deep stood, and walked to towards the doors.
“Actually,” Homelander said, stopping Deep in his tracks again. “Now that I’m thinking about it, we should probably reestablish the chain of command.”
Deep’s stomach sank. “I’m completely clear on the chain of command, Homelander. Everyone is. It’s crystal clear.”
“But still.” Homelander turned pulled his chair away from the table, towards the big window and sat down. “I would be remiss in my duties as team leader if I didn’t make sure my subordinates’ moral compasses were on track.”
A tiny shake of the head was Deep’s only protest. He remembered from last time not to actually say the word ‘no’. No meant noncompliance, and Homelander would squash that concept like a bug.
Homelander beckoned him forward with crooked finger, and pointed to a spot on the floor beside him.
His feet moved forward very slowly as he spoke. “My moral compass is set to…”
“Deep,” Homelander chided. “Less talking, and more listening.”
Deep winced as he realized there was no more point in arguing. Homelander’s mind was made up, and that was the end of it. All he could hope for now was to lessen the severity of the punishment. “Yes, sir,” he muttered as he went to the indicated spot.
“What do the seven stand for, Deep?”
“Truth, justice, and the American way,” he recited.
“That’s right. And who’s team leader?”
“You are, Homelander.”
“Right again,” he said with a smile. “And what about Stillwell? Is she team leader?”
“Why not? She sure seems like team leader. She pays the bills. She tells us where to show up, what to say, and what to do. Why isn’t she team leader, Deep?”
“Because she’s human,” Deep responded.
“Exactly.” Homelander lost his smile, and his scary serious face was back in place. He pointed a finger up at Deep and said, “You don’t report things to her, before you report them to me. You are either going to fall in line and accept my leadership, or you’re going to have a permanent vacation with your ocean friends. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Deep whispered. Fall in line or be murdered by your team leader. It was one hundred percent clear.
Homelander sighed, and nodded. “All right then.” He patted his right thigh. “Over my knee.”
Deep looked longingly at the conference room table and gestured to it. “Couldn’t I bend over the-”
“Right now, young man!”
Clenching his jaw, Deep forced his body down and lay across Homelander’s lap. He felt Homelander’s forearms resting on the middle of his back.
“We’ve been over this before, Deep, so I’m a little disappointed that we have to go over it again. Lucky for you, I’m a patient man. Why are you over my knee, and not over the table?”
It was a damn good thing that Homelander couldn’t read minds, because Deep’s thought of ‘because you’re a sadistic bastard’ would have gotten him killed. Instead, he said the words Homelander wanted to hear. “Because it’s not just about punishment, or putting me in my place, it’s about reminding me of the values that this country was built on.”
“Right again. See, I knew it would come back to you once you thought it over. Would could be more American than spanking someone for bad behavior? If it’s good enough for a Norman Rockwell painting…” He trailed off.
“Then it’s good enough for your team,” Deep finished for him, knowing it was what he expected. Swallowing his pride, he tried to speed things along by adding, “I know, and I-I deserve it.”
“You really do,” Homelander agreed, before reaching down and undoing Deep’s pants. They were quickly shucked town to his knees.
Deep stifled a groan as his entire face turned red. He always went commando in his costume, so now he was bare assed over Homelander’s lap, just like last time. Homelander told his teammates that he always did this bare to make sure that he didn’t actually damage any of them while imparting a lesson, but they all knew he could see through anything other than lead, which meant he just did it to humiliate them.
Then the first blow landed. The deafening crack of super powered flesh hitting super powered flesh rang out in the thankfully sound proofed room.
Deep groaned and his body tensed. It hurt like a mother fucker for someone who didn’t experience a lot of pain in his everyday life. He’d been shot, stabbed, kicked, punched, and thrown against concrete by humans, but none of that hurt the way Homelander could make a simple slap hurt.
He’d been stoic the first time he’d been in this position, only to learn from Maeve that the sick fuck wanted to hear their tears. He said it was because it meant they were learning their lesson, but she’d slept with him, so she knew he had a thing for making people cry. And it wasn’t like Deep’s stoicism had helped whatsoever the last time, because Homelander just kept hitting and hitting until tears were inevitable. So screw his pride. If it meant he could get up sooner, he was going to bawl his eyes out.
“Ow!” he yelped as Homelander hit him again.
Homelander made an appreciative little humming noise in his throat before smacking Deep again.
After ten harsh cracks of hand on ass, and ten loud yelps, Homelander said, “Tell me why you’re getting this spanking, Deep.”
“For going to Stillwell instead of you. It will never happen again. I’m really sorry, and I’ve learned my lesson. I promise.”
“That’s good to hear, but I’m the one who decides when you’ve learned your lesson, not you.”
Homelander started hitting again, faster and harder than before.
“Ah!” Deep yelled as his body writhed under the onslaught. Of course Homelander had no trouble holding him down, just like last time. The burning pain seemed like a novel experience in the moment, even though Deep had felt it once before. It just hurt. “Ow! I’m sorry! Please!”
Deep didn’t even need to fake the tears as the blows kept coming. He lost count after twenty, but he was sure he’d gotten at least double that before Homelander paused again.
“Who’s the team leader, Deep?”
Trying to make himself sound as pathetic and tearful as possible, Deep groveled. “You, sir. You are, Homelander. You and not Stillwell. I’ll remember from now on. I promise, just please, please, stop.”
“Hm, I think just a few more to make sure the lesson sticks.”
Deep desperately wanted to say ‘no’, or better yet ‘fuck off’, but instead he forced out the words, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’m glad we’re in agreement, because if there’s a next time… well let’s make sure there’s not.”
The harsh slaps started up again, reigniting the burning sting on his ass, and stoking the flames to new heights.
“Ooow!” Deep grabbed Homelander’s ankle to ride out this set of blows without reaching back, because that was a mistake he’d never make again.
He didn’t even try to count this set, but it seemed mercifully short compared to the last set.
After the last slap, Homelander, patted Deep’s back and said, “There. Don’t you feel better now that we’ve cleared the air? I know I do.”
“Excellent.” He patted his back one more time and let go. “Get up, and fix your pants.”
Deep scrambled to get himself upright, and covered as quickly as possible. Homelander stood as well, and once Deep was dressed, and had wiped the tears off his face with both hands, Homelander put a hand on his shoulder. Deep forced eye contact, even though it was nearly impossible.
“We’re not going to have this discussion again, are we young man?”
“No, sir.” Deep shook his head vehemently, and didn’t comment on the fact that they were less than ten years apart in age.
“Alright. Dismissed.” Homelander waved a hand in the air, and turned to look out the window.
Deep nodded, and walked to the door, feeling the chafe of his pants on his ass with each step.
Once he made it out of the conference room, his heartrate finally started to settle. He headed towards his room there at Vought. He was going to take a cold salt bath and imagine his sanctimonious fucker of a team leader dying a hundred gruesome deaths.
The EndEmail Author