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Chapter Text

Sherlock was reading a chapter book at the kitchen table while his mother cooked dinner. As usual, he wasn't very hungry, and was not too excited at the prospect of forcing down whatever vegetables were being prepared. He was, however, quite interested in the cake he knew was being baked in the oven.

He barely noticed when Mummy left the room to answer the phone, but suddenly realised he was alone in the kitchen. He turned his attention to the stove and the captivating flame that was heating a pot of food.

''Yes, yes, Margaret, I'll be there on Saturday,'' Violet Holmes said, trying to contain a sigh of annoyance as she stared down at her nails; not that she didn't like Margaret, but some friends could certainly get annoying when they wanted to. ''Anyway, dear, I have something on the stove and I need to leave - I'll call you back when I can!''

Sherlock listened to be sure his mother was still talking, and then put his book down and padded closer to the fascinating sight. Sherlock knew he wasn't supposed to touch the stove; Mummy had given him a swat before just for trying and had explained why it was dangerous and that he must always stay away and never touch it.

But that was ages ago. He was much older (seven whole years now) and much smarter; surely a tiny observational experiment wouldn't hurt. He retrieved a metal fork from a drawer and, taking a deep breath, stuck the prongs into the flame beneath the pot.

Putting the phone down, Violet made her way to the kitchen where, she knew, a big pot full of vegetables was heating up on the stove. She also knew that Sherlock would be at the table reading, and would probably complain about having to eat his vegetables later on - and earn himself a swat if he got too cheeky.

What Violet Holmes didn't expect, however, was to find her little boy using a fork to touch the flame beneath the pot. She was a mathematician and knew everything about Physics, but one did not need to be such an expert to know it was an extremely foolish thing to do.

''Sherlock Holmes!'' she said, her eyes widening in panic. She quickly walked by the little boy's side and practically pushed him away from the stove, making sure the metal fork didn't stay in contact with the flame any longer. ''Are you alright?!'' Violet asked, still more worried than anything else. ''What was going on in your mind?! You know you're not allowed to touch the flame, it's far too dangerous!''

Sherlock had been so enraptured by the flame, he hadn't even heard his mother coming until she was shrieking at him and wrenching him away from the flame. He was so surprised, he dropped the fork on the ground and just stared at her in open mouthed shock for several moments.

"I ..." his quick little mind snapped back into action. "I wasn't touching the stove, Mummy! Or the flame! I was only touching the fork! I promise!"

“Yes, a fork that you had placed right into an open flame!'' Violet said sternly, crossing her arms and looking down at Sherlock. Really, couldn't she leave her little one alone without him finding some mischief?

''You know very well you are not allowed to play with the stove, Sherlock, ever! What you did was very dangerous, the fork would have gotten hot very quickly and you could have burned yourself!'' Mrs. Holmes lectured, her worry subsiding into anger and annoyance at her young boy's behaviour. ''And you are in big trouble, young man! What do you have to say for yourself?''

Sherlock frowned. Why couldn't Mummy understand that he hadn't broken the rules? Not really, at least. The rule was that he couldn't touch the stove, and he hadn't. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, trying to look confident and grown-up while he explained it to her.

"Mummy, you said I couldn't touch the stove, and I didn't touch it."

There. Now he couldn't possibly be in trouble.

''And you were touching it indirectly, and you knew very well you weren't supposed to do that,'' Violet said very sternly, crossing her own arms and looking down at the little boy. Sherlock had a certain talent for finding trouble, and for being even cheekier when he was already in deep water.

''What you did was dangerous and reckless, and that has earned you a spanking,'' Violet told him with an air of finality, then pointing at the corner of the room. ''Now stick your nose in the corner and don't move!''

She emphasized her last word with one sharp smack to Sherlock's backside.

Sherlock flushed at his mother's promise of a spanking, and blanched when she struck his bottom. It only took a second for the initial shock and fear to wear off in lieu of anger. He screwed up his face and balled his fists, stamping his foot against the floor.

"No, no, no! It's not fair! I didn't really touch the stove, so I wasn't breaking the rule!"

Deep down, he knew he shouldn't be throwing a tantrum and shouting at his mother when he was already in so much trouble, but he couldn't stop himself, feeling enraged over the injustice of it all.

"Why are you being so stupid?" he shouted, the insult rolled far too easily off his tongue, as he had heard it many times from his big brother, though he regretted saying it to his mother almost instantly.

Violet was about to open her mouth to tell Sherlock off about his little tantrum when she heard the insult, and her eyes widened in surprise. It was obvious the boy didn't mean it and had said it without thinking, but that somehow made it even worse. Sherlock really needed to control his temper, which she had told him time and time before, but apparently that lesson was going to sink in better if her hand did the talking to his bottom.

''You do not insult me or anyone, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, and you most certainly do not throw tantrums!'' Violet snapped, quickly turning Sherlock around and bending him over, wrapping an arm around his small waist and landing several stinging smacks to his bottom. ''Next time you call me, or anyone from this family, stupid, I can assure I'll wash your mouth out with soap and you'll be getting the switch, and you can just ask your brother about how much that hurts!'' she threatened, while still spanking his little backside.

Mycroft had only been switched once, and had behaved for an extended period of time after the experience. Violet knew the boys tended to talk to each other about their punishments, and she had no doubts Sherlock had heard about how much the switch hurt. Sherlock knew he was doomed when he heard his full name, and his deduction was proved correct when he found himself bent over and felt his mother's hand make sharp, stinging contact with his backside. He yelped and felt the burn of frustrated tears welling in his eyes.

"Wah! No, Mummy! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

He was very much regretting insulting his mother at the moment, and he certainly didn't like the sound of soap in his mouth or a switch on his behind - not one bit. He had overheard Mycroft being switched before (and on his bare bottom, too!), and his brother's shrieks had sounded rather frightening indeed.

''Good!'' Violet simply replied, determined to teach Sherlock a lesson or two about manners and not doing dangerous experiments. She knew she could be lenient with her youngest - probably because the boy could be just so awfully cute when he wanted to - but Sherlock's behaviour had only earned him one thing, and that was a thorough spanking with the stingy wooden spoon. Maybe his first meeting - or rather, his behind's - with the implement would teach him.

Violet landed six more smacks, crisp and firm, on Sherlock's clothed backside before putting him back on the ground and looking down at him sternly.

''Corner, Sherlock, now. And then you'll see what happens if you ever insult me again!''

Sherlock gave her an imploring look and sniffed pathetically, putting on his best sad puppy dog eyes, wet and shiny with the beginnings of tears. He quickly realised she was having none of it and was not willing to comfort him at the moment, so with a final tremble from a pouty lip, he turned and scampered to the corner.

Seeing the beginning of tears in Sherlock's eyes and the expression across his face was hard, but Violet stayed firm, crossing her arms with an expectant expression until her little one finally made his way to the dreaded corner. It was nothing more than reinforced boredom, but it did a good job at helping her children understand exactly why they were being punished.

He stood waiting, nervous about what was going to happen. Had Mummy said that ‘you will see what happens'? Hadn't she already punished him? Surely she wouldn't spank him more than she already had! His bottom felt warm and tingly from the swats she had just given him over his trousers. It wasn't long before boredom overcame his nerves, and he began to fidget, hoping that his punishment would just end already.

Violet was grimly resolute. That was it, then. Sherlock was about to get his first spanking with the wooden spoon, and that certainly didn't please her. She presumed it was some sort of milestone, but it was one she would have gladly not reached with either of her children. Opening the drawer, Mrs Holmes took out the familiar wooden spoon with its slightly curved business end and sat down with it, watching as Sherlock began to fidget in the corner.

''Stand still, Sherlock. You've got four more minutes to go.''

"But I'm boooored," he whined, craning his neck around to give her a pitiful look. "I've learned my lesson, I promise. I'm sorry, Mummy."

His eyes widened when he caught sight of the wooden spoon in her hand. The dreaded implement had yet to meet his bottom, but he knew Mycroft was plenty familiar with its sting. She couldn't possibly mean to use that on him! He was her precious baby, wasn't he? Didn't she love him? How could she be so mean?

''You are supposed to be bored in the corner, Sherlock,'' Violet sighed, trying hard not to roll her eyes. ''Think on exactly what got you in trouble in the first place.''

He scrunched up his face and gave his bottom lip a quiver, whimpering softly as he worked up what he thought were some very convincing crocodile tears. "Please don't spank me anymore, Mummy! I'll be good!"

The way Sherlock widened his eyes at the sight of the wooden spoon meant he was scared of it, and that tugged at Violet's heartstrings. She really didn't want to punish her boys, but it was necessary, and the thought of Sherlock burning himself with the flame did a good job at reminding her why they were doing this.

''You need to have your bottom thoroughly paddled after what you've done, Sherlock Holmes, and that's exactly what I am going to do,'' Violet replied sternly. ''Now stare back at the wall, unless you want to stand there for ten more minutes.''

Sherlock's whining went up in pitch and volume at his mother's words, and he gave his foot a frustrated little stamp before thinking better of starting another tantrum and quickly turning back to face the corner.

With his fate sealed and the prospect of a paddling with the spoon mere minutes away, his nerves returned in full. Without thinking, he reached back and absently rubbed and clutched at his bottom, unable to fathom how much the spoon would sting. It always made his brother howl and cry, and Mycroft was so much older and bigger and smarter! How was Sherlock going to survive it? He sniffled as a few real tears ran down his cheeks.

Violet had learned to tell the difference between crocodile tears and real tears, and the little muffled sniffles that came from Sherlock definitely weren't fake. It made her reconsider the spoon for a moment, but she thought of what could have happened if she hadn't come back to kitchen in time, and that made Violet shiver. No, Sherlock definitely deserved it.

Three minutes later, Violet silently sighed when she realised it was time to call Sherlock out of the corner and begin his spanking.

''Sherlock, come here,'' she called, her voice more gentle than stern. ''Corner time is over.''

Sherlock wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and dragged his feet as he walked reluctantly over to his mother. He shuffled and fidgeted before making one last attempt at evoking mercy.

Giving her what he considered his best sad, wounded look, he bit his bottom lip and whined, "Please don't! I don't want a spanking! I promise I'll never do it again!"

"You know very well why I am doing this, Sherlock. It was very foolish and dangerous to play with fire, and you deserve what is coming to you," Mrs. Holmes replied.

She then took her son's wrist and guided him over her lap, leaving the small legs up in the air and his bottom propped up on her right thigh. Not saying one single word, Violet tugged Sherlock's trousers and pants down, revealing an already slightly pink backside. Sherlock wailed when his mother began to pull down his bottoms, and he reached back in a fruitless attempt to grab at them to keep them up.

"Nooo! No! Please!"

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and he was soon bare from the top of his bottom down to his knees. He reached back and covered as much of his exposed backside as he could with his palms face up, fingers splayed. He kicked his legs frantically and squirmed, begging and pleading all the while, and making generally a huge fuss. He clung desperately to the hope that although he was already face down over Mummy's knee with his bare behind in perfect spanking range, he might still be able to convince her to grant a last minute reprieve.

''Sherlock, stop fussing,'' Violet said sternly, pinning his small hands to his back so the target area was presented. ''Naughty boys get spanked on their bare backside, you know that really well. Fussing that way will only earn you more spanks.''

That didn't prevent the boy from kicking and squirming, but she kept an iron grip on him, making sure he wasn't going to slide off her lap. Sherlock was going to get a spanking, no matter how much fussing he was going to pull.

Taking a deep breath, Violet took the spoon and tapped it lightly on the boy's backside, as a sign that his punishment was about to begin. His skin looked already tender from the slaps he had received before, but Sherlock deserved a thorough punishment and he was going to get it. Raising the spoon high up in the air, Violet brought it down sharply - not too hard - but still producing a good whack.

It was Sherlock's very first spank from the wooden spoon, and the sharp sting came as a shock. He gasped and stiffened, before going momentarily still and silent in his initial surprise. It was so much worse than his Mummy's hand, and he suddenly understood why Mycroft had always carried on so much while being paddled. There was no way he would survive it.

Violet did feel a bit bad for her boy when she felt his body stiffen in surprise, but it was a necessary lesson. She knew from experience wooden spoons carried a very strong sting, and only a few spanks with them were needed to set the skin on fire.

Raising it again, Mrs. Holmes started to bring the spoon down at a regular pace, peppering it all over Sherlock's small bottom and focusing on his sensitive sit spots.

''You do not play with fire, Sherlock Holmes,'' she lectured, giving him two good whacks at the emphasized words. ''And you do not insult me, or anyone else.''

Once the spanking started in earnest, the spoon rising and smacking again and again against his bare, vulnerable backside, Sherlock resumed carrying on, kicking his little feet and bucking his hips in a futile attempt to escape from his mother's lap. However, she easily kept him pinned in place, and he could only twist, shake, and clench his bottom as he tried in vain to avoid the relentless sting.

He wailed and howled and begged, "Noooo! It hurts, Mummy! Please!"

Honestly, at this moment, he wasn't giving much thought to touching the stove, or playing with fire, or even insulting his mother. The only thought in Sherlock's young mind was that getting a bare bottom paddling over Mummy's knee with the wooden spoon was the absolute worst thing that could ever happen to him, and that he would never ever do anything that would land him in this awful position again.

In the future, he would consider the consequences more clearly and equate such naughty behavior with a very sore behind. It would even make him avoid the stove at all costs and watch his mouth around his parents. In the distant future, he might even grimly appreciate the irony that playing with the fire on the stove did result in him getting burned, just like Mummy said, only the burn that resulted was concentrated on the tender skin of his chubby buttocks.

All those considerations would come later, though, and he would even one day feel lucky his mother cared so much to discipline him. For now, he focused only on crying as his bottom was spanked and spanked by the meanest Mummy in the whole world.

It had always been much easier to judge Mycroft's reactions than Sherlock's. During a spanking, the elder brother always tried to stay stoic for as long as possible, biting his lower lip and trying his hardest not to cry. When the floodgates eventually opened, Violet knew the lesson was sinking in and that they were reaching the end of the punishment.

Sherlock, however... to be fully honest, Sherlock was kind of a cry baby. Not that Violet would ever blame him for that, but he had burst into tears before for only a few spanks, and had a certain talent for dramatics, especially during punishments. She didn't doubt the wooden spoon bloody hurt, judging by how the skin was slowly getting redder and redder and started to look almost scalded: but they weren't nearly done. After all, Sherlock had broken a rule and insulted her, and Violet was quite determined to teach him that he was never, ever to do that again.

''You follow the rules, Sherlock Holmes,'' Violet lectured, still bringing the spoon down on what certainly was an already smarting bottom. ''And you respect your parents. If you ever do that again, I'll spank you even harder. And while we're at it, you're not getting any desert tonight, and you are going straight to bed after dinner.''

Each emphasised word came with a matching smack, before Violet quickened her pace, again paying a particular attention to the punished boy's sit spots.

Sherlock's wailing reached a crescendo at the prospect of no dessert and being sent to bed early in addition to being spanked. He had been so looking forward to eating that delicious cake, too! He truly did have the cruelest Mummy in the entire world! However, he would certainly agree to never eat cake again if it only meant the paddling would come to an end.

He shrieked and yelped when the spoon came in contact with the skin between his bottom and thighs, unable to believe the increased level of sting on those tender spots. Sherlock kicked his legs so hard, his trousers and pants slipped down to his ankles, one leg already about to slide off the end of one foot.

The spanking was never going to end. His mother was going to spank the skin right off of his bottom. He became convinced that she must have replaced the spoon with a hot iron rod, and he sobbed hard, tears and snot running down his red face.

Mrs. Holmes wasn't actually spanking hard - though it probably didn't feel that way from Sherlock's perspective - but she did flick her wrist to increase the sting, and made sure every inch of the boy's bottom was properly punished and burning.

Landing three more good whacks, Violet quickly set the spoon aside and started to rub Sherlock's back, signaling the end of the punishment. The boy's bottom was crimson, now, and felt to Sherlock like a hot, throbbing ball of pain. Sighing in sympathy, Violet rubbed his back soothingly, letting Sherlock cry it all out.

''It's over, now, love, all over... Sssh, it's alright, my baby, it's all okay. Mummy gave you a good spanking because you were naughty, but now it's all over and dealt with, alright? All forgiven. Oh, love, just cry it all out, okay? Sssh...''

It took several moments for Sherlock to realize the spanking had finally stopped. He had somehow managed to kick his trousers and pants right off while his attention was fully focused on the spoon smacking his bare backside, but modesty was the least of his concerns at the moment. His bottom burned and throbbed. He lay limp across his mummy's knees, crying softly and feeling thoroughly punished and repentant. He swore to himself that he would never misbehave again. If the current sting in his bottom was the fate of naughty little boys, then he would be a perfect angel from now on. He was also starting to feel guilty for worrying his mother and for being rude and bratty.

Once Sherlock's sobs had subdued to sniffles, Mrs Holmes slowly picked him up and hugged him tightly, standing up and rocking him in her arms. She pressed a kiss at the top of his head and kept rubbing his back, holding her boy tenderly.

Sherlock buried his face in her neck and sniffled, mumbling apologies and promises. "'M'sorry, mummy. I didn't mean it - I promise! You're not stupid. I'll be a good boy! I won’t play with the stove! I promise..."

He rubbed at his sore bottom, and was almost surprised to find that, besides feeling a bit warm to his hand, the skin appeared to all be intact. Nonetheless, he still wasn't looking forward to eating dinner on a sore behind, and was secretly hoping his mother would allow him some dessert after all.

''I know you are sorry, dear, and it's all forgiven. I know you'll behave from now on,'' Violet whispered softly, still holding him close and ignoring the discarded trousers and pants that lay on the kitchen floor.

She held him tightly and kept rubbing his back, making sure Sherlock was getting as much comfort as needed. It was hard to know that she was the source of his tears and sore bottom, but Violet would rather see her boy with a tender behind for a few hours than seeing him injured and at the hospital. Punishing one of her sons was always hard, but she knew her fantastic boys would thank her later for taking care of their discipline.

''Let's get you upstairs and in your pyjamas, alright?'' She said with a little smile, kissing Sherlock's cheek and walking to his bedroom with him in her arms. ''Daddy and Mycroft should be home soon, and we'll have dinner then.'' Her son and husband had been in town to the library, and she had no doubt Sherlock wasn't too eager for them to discover he had been spanked.

Sherlock gladly allowed himself to be carried and coddled by his mother, feeling extra small and sensitive after being punished.

Once in Sherlock's bedroom, Violet helped him take off his shirt and put on his pyjamas, making sure the bottoms didn't irritate his sore bum too much. While she was helping him change clothes, he caught sight of his red bottom in the mirror. His eyes widened in awe at the crimson color of his cheeks. He'd never had such a thorough spanking, and he swore again to himself that he would behave and avoid that wicked wooden spoon at all costs. Though his mother was careful, he winced when she pulled the pajama bottoms up over his tender skin.

He clung to her hand as she lead him back to the kitchen for dinner. He blushed a little, remembering that Mycroft and his father would be home soon and undoubtedly find out that he had just been soundly spanked. Mummy would tell father, of course, and Mycroft would surely deduce it. He hoped his brother wouldn't tease him too much, but he knew Mycroft would probably be thrilled that Sherlock's bottom finally met with the spoon.

Violet smiled as Sherlock clung to her hand, pressing another kiss at the top of his head. It was impressive how a simple spanking could make a little boy pliant, calm and drowsy, and she had to admit it was particularly refreshing to see Sherlock that way. She loved the fact that he was a bundle of energy, but seeing him so tranquil also felt good.

Once they reached the kitchen, Violet picked up the pants and trousers from the floor and went straight to the laundry room to toss them in the basket, before taking Sherlock in her arms once again and hugging him close. She cuddled him for several minutes until she heard the front door opening, signaling her husband and son's arrival. Setting Sherlock on the floor, Violet stood to meet her husband and quickly pulled Siger aside, explaining the situation to him.

Mycroft, meanwhile, stared at his little brother with wide eyes. It was easy to deduce he had gotten spanked, from his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and the boy couldn't help but smile a little.

''Hurts to sit down, little brother?'' Mycroft asked teasingly.

Sherlock blushed deep red, hands flying unconsciously to rub at his sore backside. He scowled. His instinct was to shout at Mycroft to shut up, or to call him names, but the warmth still radiated from his bottom and his mother's promise of more spankings if he were to insult anyone echoed in his ears, so he kept his mouth tightly shut. He merely averted his eyes and shrugged before moving to take his seat at the dinner table.

He only barely suppressed a wince when he planted his sore bum on the hard, wooden chair, but quickly managed to compose himself, not wanting to give Mycroft too much satisfaction over his paddling. He grit his teeth as his bottom throbbed gently under his weight.

Dinner went on normally, excepted for Sherlock squirming on his chair and his father giving him small, sympathetic smiles and trying to chat with him to cheer him up. Violet suspected her husband was very glad she had played disciplinarian, considering how soft and lenient he had always been with the boys. He was the one giving them snacks before dinner and coddling them as much as he could, so it wasn't surprising he preferred to leave the unpleasant part of the job to his wife.

''Are you sure you don't want a pillow, Sherlock?'' Mycroft suddenly asked smugly as his little brother squirmed again on his hard chair, earning himself a scowl from his mother.

''Mycroft, you stop it right this instant, unless you want to sit uncomfortably, as well,'' Violet threatened sternly, not wanting another row to start between her boys.

It was Mycroft's turn to blush and stay quiet, going back to eating his potatoes in complete silence. Sherlock managed to ignore Myroft's teasing, smiling a bit to himself when Mummy threatened his brother with a spanking. It was nice to know that his big, smart, mature brother wasn't safe from his mother's spoon either.

Sherlock was an angel through dinner. He politely answered his father's questions without any hint of sass or attitude, he used his napkin the correct way, he said please and thank you, and he even managed to eat almost all his vegetables. Every time he even thought about doing something that wouldn't be his best behavior, the sting in his bum reminded him of the consequences of being naughty, and he would squirm and be good.

When everyone had finished eating, Sherlock sat patiently, keeping quiet, and trying to look as sweet and innocent as possible, hoping that mummy would relent on sending him to bed early without dessert. The cake was sitting on the counter, looking delicious, and he eyed it hopefully.

Although Sherlock's behaviour had been so good during dinner, and Violet was very, very tempted to just give in and give him some cake, she eventually decided against it. She had told Sherlock what his sentence would be, and she wouldn’t just go back on her decision. Sighing a little, she put her napkin aside and gave her little boy a small smile.

''Alright, Sherlock, time to go to bed,'' she said gently, really hoping the boy wasn't going to react too badly now that she wasn't going to relent on her punishment. ''Say goodnight to Daddy and Mycroft.''

Sherlock's heart sank at his mother's words, and he sighed sadly, disappointed, but not surprised.. He pouted a bit, but was sure not to argue. He mumbled a quick goodnight to his father and brother and permitted Mummy to take him upstairs to an early bedtime. Once Siger had kissed Sherlock goodnight, she took his hand and started to lead him upstairs, back to his bedroom and to his bed.

''You were so good during dinner, Sherlock. I am so proud of you,'' Violet whispered as she laid Sherlock on his belly and tucked him in. ''I'll see you tomorrow morning, alright? Nighty night, my love.'' She pressed small kisses on Sherlock's face, running a hand through his curly hair.

He felt a surge of pride at her praise and snuggled into the bed. After she had turned out the light and left him alone, he soon discovered that sleeping with a freshly spanked bottom was no easy task.

He finally gave up trying to get comfortable in what felt like scratchy sandpaper trousers rubbing against his tender bum, and threw off the blankets to wriggle out of his pyjama bottoms, tossing them onto the floor next to his bed. He rolled over on his belly, not bothering to pull the covers back up, and sighed contentedly as the cool night air soothed his bare reddened cheeks.

Mycroft couldn’t help but feel that ending dinner without Sherlock was slightly odd, even if the cake was as delicious as ever. Mycroft chatted quietly with his mother and father, having not missed the fact that Mummy looked particularly tired - probably from a long day of dealing with Sherlock.

''Alright, Mickey. You do the dishes tonight, and I am off to bed,'' Violet eventually said, just wanting to relax with a book. ''Goodnight, love.'' She planted the usual kiss at the top of his head and left to her bedroom.

Mycroft grumbled as he started to clean the dishes, and just as he was finishing the last plate, a little idea popped into his mind. Slicing a piece of cake, he silently made his way upstairs to Sherlock's bedroom, opening the door softly.

''Sherlock?'' He called, his voice as quiet as possible. ''I brought you some cake.''

Sherlock was close to sleep, and almost didn't believe he was really hearing his brother's voice offering him cake.

"Hmm?" he murmured sleepily, raising his head.

He blinked his eyes, fully waking up and focusing his eyes on Mycroft coming in through the door. He suddenly remembered that he was lying with his red bottom exposed and he sat up quickly, tugging his nightshirt down and holding it between his legs.

''It's fine,'' Mycroft said when Sherlock practically jumped in an attempt to cover his bottom. ''I do the exact same thing,'' he admitted, blushing slightly. It wasn't their fault if Mummy was such a skilled spanker that even pyjama bottoms felt like too much after a session over her knee.

''You were practically eating it with your eyes, so I brought you a slice, little brother,'' Mycroft explained. ''How is your backside feeling? First time with the spoon, mmh? It's a sign that you're growing up,'' he said with a little smirk.

"It was awful!" Sherlock exclaimed, eyes wide. "How do you stand it? I thought I would die!" He eyed the cake and bit his lip. "Is it ok to eat it?" he rubbed his bottom. "I don't want to be spanked again!"

''Mummy is sleeping, she was quite tired before,'' Mycroft said, slightly impressed by Sherlock actually pondering whether or not doing something was allowed. Normally, his little brother would have already been eating the cake, but a sore bottom was a wonderful deterrent. ''So yes, do eat it.''

He sighed at Sherlock's initial question, running a hand through his hair. ''I don't stand it, little brother, it's simply awful,'' Mycroft explained, grimacing at the thought. ''And you haven't met her hairbrush yet... hurts even more!''

Sherlock groaned at the prospect of something worse than the paddling he had just gotten with that nasty wooden spoon, but he eagerly started in on the cake at Mycroft's urging, smiling after the first bite and licking crumbs from his lips. He was suddenly very thankful for his big brother, although it still kind of surprised him that such a smart, older boy could still be taken over Mummy's knee. It was one thing for Sherlock to get spanked – he was still a little boy! But Mycroft was practically a grown up! Maybe that’s why Mycroft was far more stoic during spankings than Sherlock had been, though. He had a newfound respect and awe for his big brother who had already lived through many, many more spankings.

"Will you play with me tomorrow?" He asked. It had been awhile since they had taken the time from bickering to spend quality time together. "I mean ... If you want to ... and have time ..." He looked down, half expecting rejection.

Mycroft had missed spending time with his brother, too. He worked a lot for school and spent most of his free time reading books, which meant he mostly talked to Sherlock to argue or tease him; which was a shame, really. He loved his little brother to bits, even if he didn't show it much, and bringing him some cake to cheer him up had definitely been a good idea, if it meant seeing him smile.

"Of course I will, Sherlock," Mycroft said, feeling a sudden warm sensation in his chest at the thought of spending some quality time with his little brother, even if that meant playing silly games or talking about pirates for hour. "Whatever you want. After all, you did get spanked with the spoon, so it must mean you are old enough to play with me," Mycroft added with a little grin.

Sherlock beamed at Mycroft. Somehow, it made getting the spoon seem just a little bit less terrible if it meant he was now in the same league as his big brother. He finished up the cake and set the plate on the nightstand, feeling much happier having eaten something so delicious and looking very much forward to tomorrow.

He yawned, consumed with sleepiness after his punishment ordeal. He initially went to lie down on his back, trying to maintain some sense of modesty in front of Mycroft, but found he was still quite sore. Realising his brother wasn't going to tease him anymore, he went ahead and flipped over onto his stomach, ignoring the fact that he might be showing off a well-spanked bare bum, and snuggled against the pillow.

"Will it ever stop hurting?" he murmured.

Mycroft wasn't bothered at all by the fact that Sherlock was naked from the waist down. After all, he was his baby brother, and he didn't have anything he hadn't seen before. The shade of his bottom was quite impressive, Mycroft had to admit: he had seen worse - on himself - but the crimson skin did look quite sore, and left no doubt that Mummy had been thorough on Sherlock. A part of him felt sorry for his little brother, but he was also relieved to know that Sherlock wasn't that spoiled, and that he could be taken across Mummy's knee if needed, as well.

''It will, I promise. Sooner than you think,'' Mycroft said quietly, starting to rub Sherlock's back soothingly to bring him to sleep. ''You'll sleep on your stomach for a few days, but most of the sting is going to fade soon enough. And considering it was your first time with the spoon, Mummy will probably coddle you for a few days, too.''

Sherlock relaxed under Mycroft's gentle touch.

"Mmmk..." he mumbled, drifting off into sleep feeling loved and cared for, and very lucky.