Chapter Text
“I have hoped that you are over your juvenile acts, but your latest stunt proves otherwise.”
Shouta allows the lecture to wash over him, shifting slightly when he senses a presence by his feet. He doesn’t need to see to know that Nezu is glaring up at him, with that familiar disapproving stare that never fails to make his heart lurch.
At least he doesn’t have to meet him eye-to-eye, given how he is currently parked in the corner of his boss’s quaint office like an errant child.
“… I understand that you were upset, but there were a number of other things that you could have done – all of which would have been better than pouring lukewarm coffee over Sekijirou-kun’s head. Or calling him, and I quote, a ‘Discount Dracula who peaked three lifetimes ago’.”
He couldn’t contain a snort at the memory of his colleague’s ugly gaping mug, as the black liquid seeped into his silver hair and trickled down his neck. Not to mention the man’s reaction to his insult.
Shouta could normally tolerate Kan’s comments, understanding that this is the nature of their friendship; at the end of the day, they are just a couple of snide, rivalrous bastards who prefer to express their ‘affection’ for one another via some old good-natured ribbing.
But Kan had crossed a line by bringing their students into their latest argument. It is one thing for his friend to bash Shouta, but saying that Kaminari’s limited control over his quirk is due to the boy’s ‘laziness’ and ‘subpar ability’ is going too far. Furthermore, Kan had shamed Shouta’s kid in front of the entire Heroics department.
2-B is lucky that Hizashi was there to restrain him – otherwise, they might not even have a Homeroom teacher anymore.
“Serves that asshole right. My only regret is that I had wasted a perfectly good cup of coffee on that bastard.”
The resulting silence is chilling.
“…I see. Well, young man, your lack of remorse will be addressed later.” The icy promise elicits a swallow. “I am more concerned about the fact that you have once again behaved in a manner unbecoming of a man of your status, and that I would have to take… severe measures… to correct your less than stellar behaviour.”
Nobody is making you do anything; it is all you and your misplaced sense of self-importance. Shouta bites down his retort in favour of glaring at the plain walls.
It would be wise to cooperate; challenging Nezu when he’s in this mood is akin to suicide, and his ass still stings from the few sharp swats administered by his mentor’s wooden ruler. A small reminder to curb that tongue of yours, Shouta-kun, the rat had said when he corralled Shouta to the dreaded corner.
Not to mention, the thuds and creaks from a certain contraption behind him. Nezu has retrieved it from its resting place behind his desk, where it was tastefully hidden under a thick black cloth until today.
The reminder of its presence only adds to Shouta’s trepidation, and his mouth moves before he can fully think things through.
“How long more do you want me to stand here? I understand that you get to lounge in your office all day, but I actually have things to do. Not all of us are privileged enough to earn a living by being a judgemental prick,” he spits, all snark and nervous energy.
Nezu merely hums. “Since you are so keen to begin your chastisement, it would be remiss of me to keep you waiting. Please, do come over here and join us.”
Shouta turns around, and the desire to remain in the corner soars at what greets him.
‘Us’ refers to Nezu and The Abomination. Maijima and Nezu probably has another name for the menace, but to Shouta there is nothing more befitting. Because what better name can you bestow upon a machine built specifically to spank you?
The Abomination does not appear formidable; at least, not at first. It consists of a metal pole standing at stomach-height, supported by a wide base made of the same material. It sits upon four lockable wheels, allowing for both mobility and stability.
But what evokes dread would be the top half of the contraption. There is a horizonal plate attached three inches from the top, and on that is a gauntlet-esque component for insert one’s choice of implement. The long joint connecting it to the plate allows for ample swing room, and Shouta’s ass clenches in apprehension.
It is not the first time he’s seeing it, but it certainly will be his first time experiencing it. And the fact that it is a machine means that nothing save for technical errors is preventing Nezu from keeping the spanking from going indefinitely.
Shouta doesn’t realise that he is breathing heavily until a soft paw touches his hand.
“Please calm down, my boy. You do not need to be so worried; no actual harm will befall you.” Nezu coaxes, noticeably gentler. Shouta hates that it is actually helping. “Higari-kun and I have conducted many trial runs and tests before deeming this safe for use, and you can make me the most displeased individual in the entire world and I would still not hurt you.”
“…Right. I know that.” Shouta coughs, regaining his bearings. “So, how are we going to do this?”
Nezu’s momentary softness fades, and Shouta privately mourns the return of his petty-ass of a mentor. “We shall do this one step at a time, and you will comply. Please undress yourself, Shouta-kun,” the authoritative tone leaves no room for argument, “Jumpsuit and boots off – you may place your clothing by the side.”
Shouta obeys, feeling exposed in just his thin undershirt and boxers. The next command makes him freeze.
“Are you really that curious about the human anatomy, Nezu?” Shouta asks, fingers gripping his waistband protectively. He swallows at his mentor’s unimpressed look.
“Watch your sass, young man. I am not doing this to humiliate you, I simply must ensure that the strikes do not cause actual damage. And on that note, I do not recall that the person being punished has any decision-making power.” Nezu says grimly, stepping closer.
“Now, are you going to take your underwear down, or should I get Hizashi-kun in here? He seemed very eager to discipline you himself, Shouta-kun, and I believe that he would be amiable to my request for assistance.”
The threat of Hizashi is enough to break through Shouta’s hesitance, and he immediately takes his boxers down to mid-thigh. His husband has made his displeasure at Shouta’s actions known, and Shouta was half-convinced that he would been dealt with right there and then in the conference room if Nezu had not stepped in.
He still hasn’t decided if his mentor’s intervention is a good thing. Probably not, judging from the man’s stern expression.
“Well done, young man. Thank you for following instructions. Now, please bend over the couch, in the manner I have shown you.” Nezu clarifies.
Subjecting his bare backside to his parental figure’s severe gaze is nothing short of mortifying, but it’s not like Shouta has a choice. He finds himself in a jack-knife position; upper torso resting comfortably atop the leather seats, and his backside propped up high on the armrest.
Shouta rests his head atop folded arms, socked feet tapping restlessly on the floor. The position has the added benefit of tightening the skin around his legs, which would make every strike hurt more.
But as shitty his current situation is, he knows it could have been way worse.
One scrapped design actually had a platform to strap the miscreant in. And Shouta doesn’t think he could handle being restrained, not after the numerous villain attacks and the kidnapping incident.
Knowing Nezu, his mentor had turned down the design for his sake, even though tying him down would have made things easier. Shouta is grateful for Nezu’s regard, but as the cool wood of the paddle touches his ass, he wishes that the man would care just a little less.
“Since this is your first time experiencing The Corrector –” see, The Abomination is twenty times better; people should hire Shouta to name things, “– I will give you a rundown of its functions. It has multiple power settings, first of which is for warm-ups.”
There is a beep as Nezu fiddles with the remote, before the paddle strikes his ass. It isn’t particularly hard, but Shouta still grunts from surprise. Before he can give a snide remark about advanced warnings, more spanks rain down.
As its setting suggests, the spanks aren’t meant to be ferocious; it is meant to prepare the machine’s victim for a more severe punishment later on. And while the smacks aren’t harsh, it doesn’t mean that it’s a cakewalk – the rapid pace and its insistence on targeting the same two spots quickly builds heat.
It doesn’t take very long for Shouta to twitch, toes curling up as he struggles to keep himself still.
His efforts don’t go unnoticed. “Good man, Shouta-kun. A little more, and then we can move on.”
Shouta doesn’t want to move on.
But Nezu soon increases the intensity of the smacks, the paddle smacking him swifter and harder; its motions almost akin to a professional baseball batter’s. Shouta’s backside is now unpleasantly hot and itchy, and he soon finds himself gasping with every smack.
And then, his bastard of a boss speaks up.
“Forgive me. I seem to have been neglecting an important area.”
A whine bubbles up his throat as his boxers are tugged further down to his knees. “Is this really necessary?” He complains.
He yelps as fresh heat scorches his newly-exposed thighs. What in the fresh fuck…? One quick glance shows that the gauntlet is somehow angling downwards, the paddle now in line with the pale pink skin.
Beside it, Nezu stands smugly; his fur-covered thumb hovering over a button.
“Now, now – it would have been rude to not utilise The Corrector’s full range of features! Higari-kun has put in a lot of work to give it flexibility and range, and a spanking is not effective without targeting the more sensitive areas, do you not agree?”
This seals it; Maijima Higari is fucking dead to Shouta. And so is Shouta’s mentor.
He doesn’t bother gracing Nezu with a response, instead staring ahead resolutely. It is difficult to remain silent, but Shouta refuses to give his sadistic mentor the satisfaction.
Stubbornness prevails as he bites down on his lip in order to keep sounds from escaping.
It is clearly the wrong move, as the paddle hits his sit-spots with devastating force, way stronger than anything preceding it. Shouta shrieks, before whirling around to glare at his mentor.
“What was that for?” he accuses, outraged.
“Ah, well, The Corrector has a sensor that detects self-harming behaviour by monitoring your body’s distress indicators. It’s a new technology that Higari-kun is coming up with, and I offered to let him utilise this to run tests. He will be pleased to know that it is working.”
For all that Nezu sounds upbeat, his eyes and smile are devoid of humour. His next words send chills down his spine.
“And stop biting your lip, Shouta. Not unless you prefer a more serious consequence.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” he hurriedly acquiesces, the honorific an automatic reaction to the commanding tone. All fight leaves him at his boss’s constrained fury, and he slumps over defeatedly. The removal of his distraction tactic makes a huge difference, and Shouta soon finds himself crying out softly with each strike.
It is only when the soreness of his thighs matches his ass that Nezu speaks again.
“I believe that it is time for the main course. Please rest for a moment, Shouta-kun. Do not look until I say so.”
To his consternation, The Abomination whirls to a sudden stop. Shouta’s dread rises as he hears the paddle before removed, before there is a click of something else being secured.
“You may turn around, Shouta-kun. May I present to you –”
Shouta’s heart near stops when he registers the item in the gauntlet.
“ – the Holey Moley.”
It is with all intents and purposes a paddle, but this one is more oar-shaped than anything. It is much smaller in width, but made out of thicker wood.
What makes it truly intimidating (and likely gave it that fucking ridiculous name) are the eight air resistance-minimising holes; four on each row drilled across its surface. While the paddle is nowhere as severe as a cane, the sight of it is enough for him to swallow his pride and beg.
“S-Shit, Nezu, I already know what I’ve done wrong, alright? Please don’t use that –”
“Settle down, you are getting too worked up over nothing.” Easy for the rat to say, his furry ass isn’t the one being turned into ground beef, “I have promised that you will be in one piece, have I not? Your welfare has always been my greatest priority, and that hasn’t changed. Trust me to do the best for you, my boy.”
His mentor’s sincere protectiveness draws the first of his tears – why is he is always so patient and thoughtful, even when Shouta doesn’t deserve it? His breath catches in his throat, and he gives a sharp nod.
“G-Got it,” he rasps, slightly soothed by his mentor’s approving smile.
“Good boy, Shouta-kun. You will be getting eight, one for every minute you spent arguing with Sekijirou-kun. Please get back into position.”
Shouta does, sniffling miserably.
“For your final strokes, I will be setting The Corrector on moderate.” Nezu announces, as the hell device whirls back to life. “There is no greater conclusion than a memorable one, do you not agree?”
Smack!
If he hasn’t been expecting it, Shouta might have vaulted off the sofa in his distress. As things are, he only groans and kicks out wildly, trying but failing to alleviate the pain.
And if the previous spanks were painful, this one is downright excruciating. The heaviness of the implement adds to the impact, and he can almost see bruises bloom into life.
Bloody hell, if this is moderate, Shouta never wants to know what high entails; the fucking paddle might actually tear through his flesh. The snide thought flies out of his brain when the second and third strike lands.
The dam finally breaks.
Shouta sobs, body going limp. He couldn’t even muster up the strength to do anything else but apologise when the next one brands his sit-spots.
“I… I’m sorry, N-Nezu,” he weeps, as the paddle retracts in preparation, “I am already a-aware of my mistakes, so please –”
He cries harder when his face is pressed against the tweed of Nezu’s waistcoat, his mentor running his paw through his hair comfortingly. It would have been a pleasant sensation, if not for the hell befalling his bottom half.
“Shh, shh, you’re alright, my boy.” Nezu’s soothing voice is almost enough to block out the loud screech and resulting pain of the latest stroke, “Four more swats, and your spanking would be over. You already have my forgiveness, so just focus on breathing properly, hmm?”
Shouta barely gets out a nod before the final four strokes land one after the other, ending the spanking on an excruciating note. His ass burns and burns, and he can’t even muster up relief – everything hurts too much.
He is still keening when Nezu powers down the machine.
“You can get up and redress whenever you are ready, Shouta-kun.” His mentor says softly.
It takes a few more minutes for his sobbing to quieten down, before he slowly gets up; holding onto the back of the couch for support. Shouta hobbles over to his pile of clothes, cognisant of the warm pressure on his lower back.
Which stays even as he gets himself dressed, a comforting, grounding weight amidst the pain. Shouta couldn’t withhold a cry of pain when his pants scrape over his sore ass, but somehow manages to zip himself back up.
He doesn’t hesitate in collapsing face-first onto the couch, lulled by the gentle caresses on his shoulder blades. “Did you… did you have to do that?” Shouta sighs, melting into Nezu’s touch. Spankings are horrible, don’t get him wrong, but the post-discipline comfort – be it from Hizashi or Nezu – is always something to look forward to.
The older man chuckles, “Do you really want me to answer the question?”
“… You’re such a sadist, sir.”
“I am sorry I have to be so harsh on you, my dear boy, but I am doing this in hopes of never having to deal with you in this manner ever again. Assaulting your co-worker in a fit of rage is so beneath you.” Nezu says, in that kindly manner that usually follows a punishment.
He pouts, but says nothing – knowing the man’s words to be true. They rest in comfortable silence, Nezu using his handkerchief and a bottle of water to mop at Shouta’s stained face. His mentor’s big appendages bumps into his nose and eyes a few times, but he appreciates the gesture.
“Shouta-kun?”
“Hmm?”
“Since we are already here, would you mind answering a couple of questions for me?”
“…Sure. What is it?” He answers blearily, turning his head sideways to meet Nezu’s… worryingly exuberant gaze. His tired haziness clears only to be replaced by alarm bells as his mentor’s smile widens.
He couldn’t even backtrack, as Nezu steamrolls over his feeble objections.
“Since automated disciplinary devices are a relatively new endeavour that the Support Department and myself are still developing, it is imperative that we get sufficient feedback in order to facilitate improvement, especially first-hand accounts! Firstly, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate The Corrector’s effectiveness? I am personally of the opinion that more can be done to lengthen its reach, but Higari-kun thinks that what we already have is sufficient –”
Shouta’s desire to reduce The Abomination down to scrap metal increases exponentially with every word Nezu says. But as his mentor’s comforting pats continue, Shouta sleepily accedes that destroying the torture device can wait just a little while longer.