The Friday Night Club
Part One - Jed
Pic courtesy of
Bluespirit
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Introductory Notes This is a bit of a
departure for me because it's not an X Files story at all<gasp! No
Walter!> but a West Wing fic. My only excuse for this fic is
that I had a dream!!! I dreamed the gym sequence (well, not in this
detail, but the gist of it!) in this story and just had to write it. The
dream inspired me to develop the rest of the story. This story is in three
parts. The first one is from Jed Bartlet's POV, the second one from Leo's
point of view and the third from Josh's point of view. There
is only spanking and some kisses in this part but there will be more
explicit BDSM sex in later parts.
It had been a bad week – not in the sense that there had been a huge crisis but just that there had been a drip, drip, drip of minor disasters that had left all the West Wing staff feeling wrung out and demoralised – not least Josh, who had presided over three of the disasters in question and had ended up barricaded in Leo's room for most of Friday afternoon doing a moratorium on what had gone wrong and why. Jed Bartlet didn't begrudge Josh his time with Leo – he knew that Leo was blessed with a gift for restoring badly dented confidence that few others possessed. Not that his Chief of Staff didn't ask some hard questions first, and make sure you knew exactly what kind of mistakes you'd made along the way – but in the final analysis he was always there for you, and he never, ever, withdrew the support that made you feel that even if you had screwed up badly, at least you still had him on your side. Somehow he gave you hope that the sun would shine another day, even if it didn't feel like it at that precise moment in time. So Bartlet understood why Leo and Josh needed to spend a few hours together reviewing Josh's performance – but that didn't make it any easier when he wanted to spend a few redeeming moments with Leo himself. Bartlet sighed and took a sip of water, casting a reproachful glance at the closed door to Leo's office. He knew he could interrupt, but he also knew that unless it was an emergency, any interruption would be met with the full force of one of Leo's baleful glares and that wasn't worth the risk. No, he just had to wait this one out and hope that he'd get a few minutes of Leo's time when he had finished with Josh because he did need those minutes – very badly. Bartlet rolled his shoulders experimentally, feeling the ache in them. Damn but it had been a difficult week. He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back in his chair. At least today was Friday and this evening…he let a small smile play on his lips. This evening he'd get the release and redemption he always craved at the end of yet another hectic week in the Oval Office. Not that he stopped being President at the weekends, but there was a different, more relaxed, less formal atmosphere then, and his Friday night activities helped ease him into that change, as well as giving him a chance to step down from the pace of the week, and find a different, more restful kind of energy. Friday nights were when he recharged his batteries and touched base with himself…which was why he badly wanted a few words with Leo before this evening. He needed to get all the day's business out of the way before Leo joined him in the Residence later – because Leo had made it a strict rule that they never talked shop on their Friday evening get-togethers, a rule which Bartlet heartily approved of; not that it would have made much difference if he didn't because he'd come to learn that he flouted Leo's strict rules at his own peril – on Friday nights at least. The sound of a door closing jolted him out of his reverie; the next-door meeting was – finally – over. He was about to get up and knock on Leo's door when Charlie appeared in the doorway. "Sir – Josh would like to
see you." "Come in, Josh, sit down…" he began, but Josh, caught up in his own emotions, interrupted him before he got any further. "Sir, I just wanted to apologise," the younger man said, sweeping his hand through his hair again and making it even more untidy. "I know you must be really disappointed in me. I feel like everything I touched this week just fell apart." He gave a despondent sigh. "Josh – it's okay. We all have weeks like that. Weeks where we feel like we're walking through molasses," Bartlet told him, gazing at his Deputy Chief of Staff sympathetically. "I'm sorry if I caused you and Leo any extra headaches because of my actions," Josh said, as if he hadn't heard, or maybe because he wasn't yet ready to accept any absolution for what he saw as his sins. "Well, y'know, sometimes
I've caused you a few extra headaches because of my actions and
Leo's done the same." Bartlet smiled and sat down, hoping this would
encourage Josh to do the same. It didn't. "Josh, yes, you screwed
up. You know that, I know that, Leo knows that," Bartlet said, his soft
tone belying the hard words. Josh's shoulders stiffened, preparing to take
the fell weight of his President's censure but Bartlet had no intention of
heaping any more guilt on Josh's shoulders – he knew Josh was capable of
beating himself up far more effectively than anyone else could. "All I'd
say is, don't let this make you timid," Bartlet told him, watching the
younger man keenly. "It'll be understandable after the kind of week you've
had if you just withdraw into yourself, play it safe, not take any risks –
but that's not what we pay you for, Josh. We need you to be your usual
bright, inquiring self - not cowed because you've lost confidence in your
own abilities." "Right now I'm not sure
my abilities amount to a great deal but thanks for the vote of confidence,
sir. Funnily enough, Leo said pretty much the same thing." "Well, he's right," Bartlet said, nodding. "Now, you look a mess, Josh. Why don't you go home, take some time out, and put this week behind you." "I think…I feel kind of cramped," Josh replied, starting to pace again. "If I sit at home feeling like this I'll go nuts but you're right, I need some time out. I think I'll hit the gym, maybe wear myself out enough that I actually sleep tonight." He gave a self-deprecating grin. "See that you do – and
that's an order," Bartlet said, with what he hoped was a twinkle in his
eye. Josh looked a little reassured. He gave another faint smile, and,
with a nod to his President, turned on his heel and left the room. Bartlet
watched him go with a sigh. Josh reminded him of himself many, many years
ago. Too smart for his own good, and too worried about letting himself and
everyone around him down. Josh Lyman was a fine man, with a lot of promise
- if he could just believe in himself. Bartlet, of all people, knew that
was easier said than done…which reminded him. He got up, crossed the
room, knocked on the door to Leo's office, and was half way through the
door before he realised that he hadn't waited for Leo to invite him in.
His Chief of Staff glanced up from where he was stuffing various files
into his briefcase. "Yeah." Bartlet put his
hands in his pockets and sank back on his heels. "He'll be okay." "You're going?" Bartlet
asked, alarmed. "I told you about this. It's the thing. I told you I have to go to the thing in Florida. I'll be back on Monday." "But it's Friday!" Bartlet protested, his eyes full of meaning. "I know." Leo raised a
warning eyebrow. "But this was arranged months ago and I said I'd attend.
There are several Fridays when this happens, sir. With the jobs we do it's
hardly surprising." Leo picked up his briefcase and walked towards the
door. Bartlet gazed after him, forlornly. Leo reached the door, sighed
again, and turned back. "I did tell you about this, sir. If it's any
consolation I won't be enjoying myself anywhere near as much as I would if
I was here this evening. I'll be stuck on an airplane going through these
files, and when I get there I have two days of meetings, lectures and
events to sit through, so trust me, I would rather be here with you
tonight." Bartlet thrust his hands even further into his pockets and traced a pattern on the carpet with his shoe. "I am not cancelling, sir," Leo said in a firm, stern voice. "Not for this reason. We promised that what we do on Friday nights would not get in the way of our work. Friday nights are supposed to make it easier for us to do our jobs, not harder. The moment they start getting in the way is the moment we have to stop and ask ourselves what the hell we're doing," he added. The President sighed, and, finally, nodded. "You're right. I know
you're right…I'm just disappointed." "I know exactly how you feel, and yes, there were a lot of problems this week, but most of them weren't about you," Leo said softly. Bartlet glanced up, sharply. "What do you mean?" He asked. "I mean that usually you need this for a different reason…but this week it was Josh who had a lousy time and who is really feeling it. You didn't have anywhere near as bad a week as he did." "It was his own fault," Bartlet growled. Leo frowned. "And those times when you've felt like Josh is feeling now, did it make it any better that sometimes that was your own fault too? No – it makes it worse. You know that." Bartlet gazed at Leo,
trying to resist the urge that was welling up inside him to have a full
blown tantrum. Leo was right – Josh had been to hell and back this week,
but that didn't change the fact that both he and Leo had had to deal with
the fallout from that which had meant extra work for them too. "No, I'm not suggesting that," Leo said patiently. "But…you could take my place with him," he said softly, so softly that Bartlet wasn't even sure he'd heard him properly. "What?" He frowned. "You remember that thing you asked me a few months ago? And a few more times after just because you like pushing although I always refuse." Leo waited patiently. "Thing…?" Bartlet frowned, and then coloured. "Oh, that thing," he muttered. "I said no. I'll always
say no," Leo said firmly. "It's just never going to happen that way
between us. It's not something I could do or enjoy and it's not something
I want and also, I don't think it would be good for you to have that kind
of experience with me for various reasons which I've already explained to
you. However…if you still feel you want it – then I think you could do
worse than approach Josh right now. As a matter of fact, I think he's in
exactly the right kind of mood to appreciate it." "Wait," Bartlet stopped
his best friend as he stepped through the door. Leo turned, one eyebrow
raised, waiting for Bartlet to continue. "This is madness, Leo," Bartlet
said. "I've known you for years, we have an…understanding. I couldn't just
go up to Josh and…" He shook his head again. "Josh might view it as
harassment and rightly so." Bartlet glanced at him sharply. "You've spoken to him?" He asked. "Not exactly." Leo
smiled. "I've just seen the same look in his eyes that I've often seen in
your eyes - and today that look was particularly beseeching. When he was
in here earlier…" He shook his head, glanced around absently, and then
shrugged. "He wanted from me what you've often wanted from me only that
wasn't something he could ever put into words, obviously. Now, I think
he'd take that just as happily from you as from me – in fact, it might
even be better coming from you." "Why would that make a difference?" Bartlet asked. Leo sighed. "For a smart man you can
be very dense at times," he commented. "It makes a difference, sir,
because you're pretty much the ultimate authority figure. If anyone can
grant the kind of absolution he's looking for then it's you." "I think he'd like that very much. In fact, I'd go so far as to bet on it. Now, I really do have to go. Do what you like, sir - there can either be two lonely, frustrated, upset men in this building tonight or two men who can help each other feel a whole lot better. It's up to you." So saying, he turned on his heel and walked out before Bartlet could call him back. "If this goes wrong it'll be your fault, Leo McGarry!" Bartlet called after him. Leo waved a nonchalant hand in reply and then was gone. Bartlet remained, looking after him, for several minutes, still thinking about their extraordinary conversation. He couldn't – could he? No…no…he couldn't. It was absurd! What was Leo thinking? Bartlet returned to the Oval Office and began sifting through the usual mounds of papers that were spread out on his desk, but his mind kept drifting. He thought of Josh, with his unruly hair and his pathological pacing, the guilty expression on his face, the sense of weariness permeating his every movement, the need for atonement shining out of his eyes. Bartlet knew that feeling all too well – the feeling of having the whole world on your shoulders and having failed it somehow. It didn't help that both he and Josh were perfectionists. "Oh dear god," Bartlet sighed, casting aside any pretence that he was seriously going to study his papers this evening. Could Leo be right? His Chief of Staff was innately cautious so he could hardly imagine that Leo would direct him into such a foolhardy course of action if he wasn't sure of his facts. But even so…it was still risky. Bartlet would go to the ends of the earth not to hurt Josh Lyman, a young man he viewed as being among his closet comrades. Between them, he and Leo had mentored Josh, helped him, nurtured his talent…he loved the younger man - not in the way he loved Leo, as old friends, warhorses, who'd done battle side by side for many years, but in the way you love a bright young colt, full of promise, who you've watched grow to maturity. Bartlet felt a heat rise inside him. When he'd asked Leo, a few months ago, whether they could swap their usual Friday night roles, his old friend had been adamant that it wasn't going to happen – it wasn't ever going to happen. Now, he was telling him that Josh might be willing – no – that Josh might want this and need it, the way Bartlet himself had so often needed it from Leo. Bartlet thought of Josh's pale face and darkly shadowed eyes, full of unexpressed need, and got up. He remembered himself, going to Leo with a similar expression in his eyes on many, many occasions – he'd needed what Leo was able to give with him, and he was just so lucky that he had someone in his life who was prepared to do that for him, to be there in a way that few people would understand. Poor Josh – if he felt the same way and didn't have anyone to help him through that then he really had to be suffering right now and Bartlet could empathise with that all too well. Could he do that for Josh though? Could he be there for him the way Leo was there for him? Leo was a natural at it – anyone could see that. Bartlet wasn't so sure about his own abilities in this area. He'd never done anything like this before – had never wanted to – but his Friday night sessions with Leo had awakened his curiosity, made him look outside himself and question himself and a few months ago he'd – extremely tentatively – asked Leo whether they might play around with the roles they'd assigned themselves. Leo had adamantly refused, but, as always, he hadn't forgotten Jed's request or the thoughts and feelings behind it – and now he had offered Bartlet a way to have that experience he'd asked about – and, in typical Leo fashion, had tacitly given his permission and approval as well. But with Josh…Bartlet had never even considered bringing anyone else into the close relationship he shared with Leo – he hadn't wanted to, and neither did Leo. Yet, if Bartlet was honest with himself, he knew that if there was anyone else it would be Josh. He knew that both he and Leo felt the same way about Josh – they'd mentored him together, and were closer to him than they were to any of the other West Wing staff. He remembered sitting side by side with Leo, neither of them speaking, while they waited for news about whether Josh would live or die. He'd realised then, without either of them saying it, that they both felt the same way about Josh. The shooting had just brought it home to them. Then, later, when Josh had suffered from PTSD, they had both watch him almost disintegrate before their eyes. Bartlet could still remember every single word that Josh had said to him during that meeting where he had fallen apart. There had been an out of control look in Josh's eyes, and he'd waved his hands and paced the carpet, and, finally, shouted at the President. "You've got to listen to me!" he'd pleaded – it had been a desperate cry for help and the fact that he'd directed it at Bartlet revealed just how much, on a subconscious level at least, he trusted, admired and liked the President. Bartlet took a sharp intake of breath; maybe Leo was right. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do but it couldn't hurt to at least go and find out… He told Charlie to go home, dismissed his security staff, and wandered down to the White House gym. He frowned as he got close and saw that the place was in darkness; it was Friday night though - and most people had better things to do than spend their Friday nights sweating in the gym. Even so, he was disappointed. Josh had said he'd go to the gym but maybe he belonged to another gym somewhere else… Bartlet was about to turn and go when he heard a noise; a slight thump, and the sound of someone's breathing coming in hard gasps. He turned back and quietly pushed open the door to the gym. He stood on the threshold for a moment, blinking, and then made out the single, lone figure sitting at a weight stack at the far end of the gym. Josh. Bartlet frowned – why was his Deputy Chief of Staff working out in the dark? Then he sighed in realisation – Josh couldn't face himself right now. He needed to be alone with his mistakes, alone in the dark, punishing his body until he felt he'd atoned for what had gone wrong this week. Bartlet felt a strange sense of confidence sweeping through him – Leo might well be right – the question was, what to do about it? This didn't just affect one Friday evening – it could have far reaching consequences. Maybe Leo had known that; Bartlet had the feeling that he had been well and truly Leo'd tonight. Bartlet stood, watching Josh work at the weights – he was pushing himself too hard, that much as obvious. He was sweating profusely and his eyes were glazed, fixed straight ahead. Bartlet took a deep breath, wondering if he could do this as well as Leo did it, because this wasn't all or even mostly about him. He knew that. This was about Josh and what he needed as much as it was about himself – but there was no reason why their two needs couldn't be compatible on this occasion. Bartlet spent a long time thinking about how Leo always treated him during their Friday night sessions – the other man seemed to know unerringly what he needed and had always given it to him but he wasn't sure he possessed such an empathetic soul himself. He was all too well aware that if he did this he had to do it properly and he had to get it right – he cared about Josh too much to get it wrong. He smiled, softly, at that thought, the heat sweeping through him more strongly now. Oh yes, he cared about Josh. He cared about all his staff but he saved a special place in his heart for Leo and Josh. Leo he loved more than his own life, but Josh…he realised, without surprise, that he loved Josh in an utterly different and yet at the same time very similar way. Yes, Leo had been right. He was certain of it now. Bartlet turned and locked the door behind him, ensuring their total privacy, and then, slowly, quietly, acting purely on instinct, Bartlet walked over to where Josh was struggling to lift the weights. Bartlet didn't say anything, just leaned, almost casually, on the bars of the weight stack next to the one Josh was using. Josh saw him, faltered, tried to push the weights again, and then gave up, his breath coming in exhausted pants. The weights crashed back down with a reverberating clang, and Josh sat there, hanging his head, the weight of his own self-loathing far heavier than the weights he had just been trying to lift. "Can't even do that right," Josh commented, still not looking at the President. "You're being too hard on yourself," Bartlet told him in low, purring tones that took him by surprise. They clearly had the same effect on Josh because he looked up, startled. It was dark in the gym, but not so dark that Bartlet couldn't make out the desperate, hopeless light in the other man's eyes, and the lines of his body. Josh had a good body – nicely toned but not too muscled. Bartlet was aware that his eyes were sweeping over it, assessingly. He wondered whether Josh would say anything but then he noticed the younger man pull his stomach in and sit a little straighter. Bartlet gave an inner smile – oh yes, Leo had definitely been right. "Are you punishing yourself, Josh?" He asked, in that same deadly, purring tone. Josh swallowed hard, and finally dared to look straight into the President's eyes. "Yes, sir, I guess I am," he whispered. Bartlet's heart went out to the young man in front of him. He could help. This was definitely something he could help with. He moved slowly and gracefully to stand behind his Deputy Chief of Staff, and put a hand on each of Josh's shoulders. "Would you like me to
take care of that?" he whispered. He felt Josh stiffen beneath his hands. "Would you like me to take care of punishing you? Would you trust me to do that?" Bartlet whispered in Josh's ear. "If you do it, you'll take it too far and it'll never be enough to satisfy you. Trust me, I know," he added in a wistful, heartfelt tone. "If I do it, you have to agree that you'll accept that I control how long and how hard and how much – and when I'm done then you have to accept that it's over; you mustn't brood on it any more after that. You have to put it behind you. Learn from it, yes, but dwell on it – no. If I take charge of your punishment, you have to agree to that, or it won't work." Josh took a harsh, shaky breath. "Punish me, sir?" He asked. "How?" The word was almost voiceless, barely audible. Bartlet smiled. "That's my decision but I think you know the answer to that," he whispered in Josh's ear. "That's what you really want, don't you, Josh?" He felt the young man shudder beneath him. Then, unexpectedly, Josh put his head back until it rested on Bartlet's thigh. His eyes were closed as if in prayer, seeking guidance. Bartlet looked down on this young man leaning on him so trustingly and felt a wave of exhilaration pass through him. This was what both he and Josh needed – there was no question of it. "Understand this – it's your choice. There are no consequences to you saying no," Bartlet added, his tone more serious, much closer to President Bartlet than the purring, deadly tones he had just been using. "If you don't want this I'll turn around and walk out of here and we'll both forget it happened. I just thought you could use my help right now. It's your call, Josh." There was silence in the room. Bartlet was acutely aware of the sound of Josh's breathing, his chest rising and falling too fast. "Hush." Bartlet slowly slid his hand down Josh's body until it came to rest on the young man's heaving chest. "Breathe more slowly. Breathe with me." He took a deep breath and was almost surprised when Josh struggled to do the same, mirroring him. Oh god this felt good! Suddenly he knew why Leo was so addicted to this particular role. He hadn't known that it could feel like this. They breathed in time for several minutes, Josh's back warming Bartlet's thighs and groin. "All right – I'm going to want an answer from you in a minute," Bartlet said softly, almost lost in the sensation of them both breathing together in the dark room, warming each other, at one with each other. He heard Josh swallow – the sound was audible in the quiet gym. "Okay…" Bartlet slid his
hands away from Josh's chest reluctantly. "What's your answer, Josh?
Remember that it's your choice." "All right, Josh. There
will be more of that after – but first we must deal with how you're
feeling right now. Do you understand me?" "I'm going to tie you to the weight stack with my tie," he said in that same low, deadly voice. "I'll whip you with my belt – but how hard and for how long is for me to decide. Do you understand that? It still isn't too late to say no." "I don't want to say no," Josh whispered, but his eyes were wide and alarmed. Bartlet knew why – he understood many of the emotions the young man in front of him was experiencing, had lived through them himself and knew how powerful they were. "I don't have to tie you but I think it would help you if I did," he explained. "I know you're not scared of the belt but being tied will make it easier for you. I can't explain how, just that I know it's true." He gave a small smile, because this was something he had learned from his own experiences with Leo. Leo often tied him, and, while he always fought it at first, it was easier submitting to one of Leo's spankings when he was tied than if he wasn't. When Leo didn't tie him it took all his own courage to stay in position and take what he badly wanted to take – what he needed. A little voice in his head always whispered to him, telling him he could get up, that he didn't need to stay here, that he could go – and that voice was absolutely right. He could do all those things – but if he did, then he didn't get the absolution and sense of release that he needed and sometimes he needed it very badly indeed. "I'll be tied. That's fine," Josh told him, but his eyes were still so bright with anxiety that Bartlet stopped what he was doing, and pulled the younger man to him. He held Josh's face against his chest for a long time, stroking that wild hair, soothing the tightly strung body. Josh was stiff, and resisted him for several long seconds, and then gave in, and wrapped his arms around the President's body, holding on tightly. He allowed himself to be soothed for a long time, and finally his tense body began to relax. That was Bartlet's cue. "It's time now. In a moment, I want you to stand up and prepare yourself for your punishment," Bartlet whispered. He felt Josh's nod against his stomach, waited for a beat, and then stepped back. Josh swallowed hard and then got to his feet. Bartlet felt himself moving up a gear, getting deeper into role – if this was going to happen then it had to count, or Josh would be left feeling even worse than before. He needed to feel that he was in safe hands, that someone was taking care of him, but at the same time, he needed to know, also, that Bartlet was in charge, and had all the control in this situation. Josh needed his punishment and he needed to know that it was being delivered by someone with unimpeachable authority over him – someone with his own best interests at heart, but someone strong, firm and unyielding. Bartlet drew himself up to his full height and began to slowly roll up his shirtsleeves. He knew that Josh was watching, transfixed by the sight, and could guess the countless emotions that were surging through the young man's body. He knew the moment before a spanking was the absolute worst, and yet also, the time when he felt most alive. Even Leo, never a showy man, understood the need to make this moment count and give it maximum dramatic impact. Bartlet finished with his shirt-sleeves and then glanced at the hapless man standing beside him, looking as if his knees might buckle at any moment. "Take off your shirt, Josh," he ordered. Josh swallowed hard again, but nodded, and, with visibly trembling hands, pulled the tee shirt he was wearing over his head. He held it, stupidly, for a moment, and then slung it over the weights behind him before turning back to the President. Bartlet looked the young man over, taking his time. He didn't touch – he just looked. He took in the pale, well-toned chest, covered with liberal amounts of wiry hair. Josh stood up to the scrutiny well – and Bartlet knew that this was about more than just punishment. This could be, if everything went well here tonight, about so much more; Josh had a yearning in his soul that was tangible and it was something that Bartlet felt himself responding to in a way he hadn't expected. Maybe this was how Leo had felt that first time, maybe that's what had led them on to the places they had subsequently decided to go with each other and the many different facets of their self-imposed roles that they had explored. "All right. You've done very well so far, Josh. I'm proud of you. Now, just relax. This is where it gets really tough." Bartlet pulled his tie out from under his collar and stepped forward. "Hold your hands out, wrists together…that's good." He tied Josh's hands tightly, but not harshly, and then, unexpectedly, pulled Josh forward sharply. The younger man came towards him with a gasp of surprise, which he swiftly bit back. Bartlet had to turn his face away to hide his smile. Josh was a revelation – a beautiful revelation but a complete revelation none the less. He was so willing, so eager to please – it was hard not to love him when he was like this. Bartlet used the two loose ends of the tie to fasten Josh's hands to the overhead bar of a pec dec, taking his time, making sure that the young man was comfortable, but immobile. Finally he finished, and took a step back. "That's good," he
commented. "Are you still with me, Josh?" "Okay, Josh. Punishment always takes place on the bare, so I'm going to get you ready." He looped his fingers into Josh's shorts, and lowered them down to the young man's ankles. Josh gave another low moan, but he wasn't in distress – in fact, when Bartlet looked at the young man he saw that Josh was on a different zone completely. His face was flushed and almost feverish with anticipation, and there was a slight film of sweat on his upper lip. He looked – beautiful. It was a strange word to use, Barlet thought, but it was true. Josh looked beautiful like this, arms tied above his head, fixed to the gym apparatus, his lean body stretched out, awaiting punishment, his pale buttocks curved enticingly, clenching and unclenching furiously under Bartlet's scrutiny, anticipating what would soon happen to them. "Relax." Bartlet ran a
gentle hand over the twin globes of flesh, soothing his Deputy Chief of
Staff. Josh made a little noise in the back of his throat as he was
touched in that intimate area but Bartlet wasn't about to start in until
Josh was ready. He had too many memories of the bad physical chastisement
he had experienced at his father's hands to want to inflict that on anyone
else. And he'd had enough good experiences at Leo's hands to know how it
should be done. "All right, Josh, I'm going to punish you. Would you like
to tell me why you're being punished?" Bartlet asked in low, firm tones. "Okay – it's true you
made some errors of judgement in all three of those areas, Josh," Bartlet
said. "But my guess is that Leo's already raked you over the coals in a
professional capacity about them. I'm not going to use corporal punishment
on you for anything you might do professionally. Not now, not ever – there
are other ways of dealing with that. I'm going to punish you because you
need me to and because you've given me permission to. Do you understand
that?" "When you've made mistakes in the past, have you fantasised about something like this happening, Josh?" He asked softly. Josh hesitated, and then, as if it was something shameful, he nodded. "I thought so – it isn't
anything to be ashamed of," Bartlet told him firmly. He went to stand in
front of Josh and looked the other man in the eyes. "Who do you see
punishing you like this, Josh?" He asked carefully. Josh hesitated,
dropping his eyes to the floor. Bartlet took hold of his chin and made him
look up. "Answer me please, Josh," he said implacably. Josh swallowed
hard. "Good. Now tell me, when
you got older – who else did you fantasise about punishing you?" He asked.
Josh flushed. "Yeah, you and me both,"
he said. "Hell, I don't suppose we're the only people who work with Leo
who occasionally have those thoughts. Anyone else?" "I thought so. All right
then, Josh, I'm going to do that for you. I'm going to punish you the way
you've fantasised about me punishing you – but I want you to remember that
your consent is important to me. I can be firm, Josh. I can be strict –
and I will punish you as hard as you need me to, but what I will not do is
punish you for your mistakes or because you've failed me or disappointed
me. You haven't. You just got some stuff wrong, and you get plenty very
right – so I figure it all evens itself out in the end. Are you listening
to me, Josh?" "Good. Then I think it's
time we began. You don't have any control over this, Josh. I'm taking that
control." Bartlet took a step back, but he wasn't ready to use the belt yet – he knew from his many experiences at his father's hands that being whipped hard on bare skin without a warm up hurt like hell, and while he knew Josh wanted to be punished and expected to be whipped hard with his belt, Bartlet wasn't prepared to give him the kind of punishment he had endured so often at his father's hands. His experience with Leo had taught him that there was another way; when he had first thrown himself on Leo's tender mercies in this way he had been astonished by the time and care his old friend had taken. He had gone to Leo needing punishment, just as Josh needed punishment right now, but Leo had given him something else entirely. At first Bartlet had rebelled against it, but, hours later, when Leo held him in his arms and allowed him to cry his eyes out, he had to admit that his friend had known exactly what he was doing. Bartlet put a hand on
Josh's bottom and held it there gently for a moment. Josh took a choking
intake of breath. Bartlet gave the white globe of flesh a sharp tap and
Josh tensed and then gave a shaky little laugh. "You can scream if you like, Josh. The gym is a long way from anywhere else and I doubt anyone would hear you," he said. Josh nodded but he still stayed pretty quiet. Bartlet decided this was just the way he preferred it, and continued about his task, stepping up the pace even more until he knew that Josh had to be smarting badly. His bottom was glowing a bright red, and he was squirming against Bartlet's arm – not seriously enough to imply that he couldn't take much more but enough to let Bartlet know that the spanking was doing the work it was supposed to. He continued for several more minutes until he heard a muffled whimper emerge from Josh's throat. He stopped immediately, and stepped away from the young man's body. Josh slumped a little in his bonds, still making the little whimpering noise in the back of his throat. Bartlet touched his shoulder gently, and went to stand in front of him. "Okay, Josh?" He asked gently, taking Josh's face in his hands. Josh focused on him with some difficulty, and then nodded – his face was bright but he didn't look in any distress – in fact he looked almost exhilarated, lost in the moment. "I'm going to use my belt
now. Not many – just a few strokes to make you realise you've been fully
punished," Bartlet told him. Josh straightened and nodded, his eyes
following Bartlet's every move, eager and full of emotion. Bartlet took
the belt from the bar where it had been hanging and doubled it over slowly
in his hands. He hated it when Leo did this to him, slowing everything
down just as it got to the really painful part, but now he found himself
doing the exact same thing. Josh reacted differently though – instead of
being impatient, headstrong and rebellious, he was transfixed by
everything Bartlet did, his eyes patient and accepting, full almost of a
kind of rapture. "You're doing very well, Josh. I'm proud of you," Bartlet
said, finding that it was the truth. He wasn't just saying it – he did
feel a wave of almost absurd pride in the young man standing in front of
him, his hands tied above his head, his ass glowing bright red from the
spanking he'd just received. "I don't want you to think I'm short-changing
you though," Bartlet told him firmly. "This will be a hard punishment. I
want you to take it and afterwards you'll need to forgive yourself. Okay?"
"Good boy. Now take your
punishment, Josh." "All right, boy. You did
fine. You did very well in fact," Bartlet told him, stroking Josh's body
gently. He hadn't intended for it to get this far – he had meant to keep
his distance, not wanting to intrude on Josh in a way the other man might
be unable to protest about in his zoned out state, but somehow it felt
wrong not to go in close and give the kind of comfort that Leo always
gave. He kissed the back of Josh's head tenderly, held him for a second,
and then stepped back and pulled Josh's shorts up before going to stand in
front of him again. "That's it – it's all over now. I'm going to untie you
and then you can get dressed. Your punishment is over." Josh gazed at him
from under those heavily lidded eyes of his, and Bartlet couldn't stop
himself stroking the side of Josh's face. "Did you hear me?" He asked.
"You did really well, Josh. It's over." "Hold it right there, Josh," he said, his voice ringing out loudly in the quiet gym. Josh stopped dead in his tracks, responding to the tone of total command in the voice. "I haven't given you permission to leave yet," Bartlet said, playing the role on instinct alone. Josh pulled himself up straight, and turned. His eyes were confused, as if he wasn't sure what was happening now.
"Normally you don't – but
I just whipped your ass, Josh, so I don't think we're in a normal
situation any more. I think you need some taking care of for the next hour
or two, and I intend to do just that. Come with me, please." "Lie down on the bed, Josh. I'm going to cover you with a blanket," Bartlet ordered. Josh did as he was told, and Bartlet laid the blanket over him, and then, to Josh's evident surprise, crawled in beside him and held him. "Sir, you don't need to do this. I'm fine. I can go home," Josh said, sounding embarrassed. "Strange that you'll let
me whip your ass but you're embarrassed by a hug," Bartlet commented.
"It's okay, Josh, I used to be the same – it's easier to accept punishment
than affection sometimes. That's just the way we are." Bartlet laughed out loud.
"No, Josh, not Abbey. This isn't her kind of thing at all." "Of course," Bartlet
replied sharply. "Do you think I'd deceive Abbey? In fact, it was she who
suggested Leo. It wasn't something she felt she could do herself, and I
clearly needed it." "One thing Leo did
impress upon me was the need for a wind down period afterwards – which is
what we're doing here, Josh. I didn't want you just walking out of there
without making sure that you're okay with this, and talking about where we
go from here." "It did hurt, sir, but it
felt like a good hurt – you know?" He gave a lazy, hazy smile as if this
conclusion had come as a total revelation to him. "Do you…I mean, that is…oh hell, do you ever…to Leo?" Josh asked nonsensically. Bartlet grinned. "Joshua Lyman, can you imagine anyone ever spanking Leo McGarry?" He asked with a snort. Josh started to laugh. "No, sir – but then again before this evening I couldn't imagine anyone ever spanking you either," he added. "Ah well, I need it – Leo doesn't. And you need it too, Josh, judging by what happened tonight." "Sir – you said something
about what would happen next…" Josh began. "I'll get you something
to ease that in a moment," Bartlet said. "For now – I think you need to
feel the sting. As for Leo knowing – he suggested to me that you might
need this tonight. I wouldn't have come to find you otherwise. You see…"
He hesitated, but he realised that he'd already crossed a line and there
was nothing to be lost and everything to be gained by telling Josh the
rest of it. "Leo and I have an arrangement, Josh – every Friday night we
get together in this room, and, for a few hours every week – our schedules
permitting of course – he's in charge. Tonight I was a little bit…put out
that Leo had to go to a conference in Florida, I'll admit." Bartlet made a
face. "But he suggested that your need was greater than mine tonight
anyway and that I could do for you what he usually does for me." "I don't need to tell you
that this is entirely confidential," Bartlet continued, nudging him. "I'm
not making any excuses for what I am or what I need – but Leo and I both
have very stressful jobs and this really does help me unwind. I do a much
better job as President of this country because of it." "I'll do that," Bartlet told him, swatting his hands away. "I'm still in charge, Josh until we agree that this evening's session is over." Josh made a little sound of acquiescence and buried his face in the pillow, allowing Bartlet to carefully lower his shorts. "Hold still – sometimes I swear this part hurts more than the actual spanking," Bartlet said, smearing a liberal amount of cool gel onto his finger and then spreading it carefully on Josh's butt cheeks. Josh made another of those endearing little mewling noises in the back of his throat and Bartlet thought he really could come to enjoy those sounds. He was quick about his work and then pulled Josh's shorts up again. Josh emerged from the pillow, his face flushed with embarrassment. "The sting goes in a few minutes," Bartlet assured him and Josh nodded, but he had that bright, inquisitive, Josh Lyman look in his eyes and Bartlet knew that if he wasn't careful he'd be subjected to a Josh Lyman grilling session any moment now. The younger man was clearly bursting with questions. "All right, Josh, fire
away," he said, with a sigh, realising that the question and answer
session was unavoidable. Josh grinned, but what he said next took Bartlet
completely by surprise. Bartlet thought about it
for a moment – this wasn't his secret alone to share, Leo was involved
too…but he and this man lying on the bed next to him had already kissed
and shared moments that demanded a certain level of trust and confidences.
"And she's okay with that?" Josh looked puzzled. Bartlet laughed. "Josh, Abbey and I have been married for years – she would throw me out of the house on my ass if she caught me in bed with another woman, but she seems to feel that my one night a week with Leo is actually a good thing for all concerned and I'm not about to argue with her about that. Abbey's always accepted that my friendship with Leo is as much a vital part of my life as my love for her. She knows that on Friday nights I sub to Leo – I think it amuses her as a matter of fact. She's pleased that there's someone with whom I don't get my own way, although lord knows I don't always get my own way with her either – she just likes to think I do." "Would you – do you think she'd mind about me?" Josh asked. Bartlet frowned – to be honest he hadn't even thought about what Abbey would say about this. He assumed she'd view it the same way as she viewed his relationship with Leo. In fact, he was pretty sure she would. "I mean…" Josh continued, "Do you think she would mind if I joined this Friday Night Club you and Leo have going? If I was your…your lover too?" There was a look of intense yearning on his face, and Bartlet remembered how he had responded to that kiss, in the darkness of the gym, his lips parted, his eyes lost in some rapt world of their own. "Is that what you want?"
He asked gently. "I'd need to talk to Leo
about it," he said. "Don't look so anxious – Leo doesn't bite," Bartlet chided. Josh gave him a hollow smile in return. "Leo's wonderful but he's…well, you know, he can be kind of scary," he said. "Do you think he'll agree to this, sir?" "I have no idea…but it was Leo's idea that I came to you this evening, so…" Bartlet shrugged. "You don't know what it's been like – watching you two, the kind of relationship you have together. I've always wanted that kind of friendship. I'm never happier than when I'm with you both, when we're working together, when you're bouncing ideas off each other. I kind of feel like the little kid at school who tries to hang out with the older, smarter kids - you let me tag along with you as long as I don't get too irritating." Josh gave another little smile and Bartlet stared at him fascinated – he'd had no idea that all this had been going on inside Josh's head. "We'll see what Leo says," he repeated softly, gently pushing back Josh's hair with his hand. The young man smiled up him, utterly trusting, and completely willing and in awe of him. A look like that could, Bartlet thought, swell his head – thank god he had Leo to cut him down to size occasionally. He continued stroking Josh's hair, absently, and, after a little while, the younger man's eyes closed and his breathing deepened. Bartlet looked down on him, still faintly astonished by the way the evening had turned out. His cell phone rang a few seconds later and he quickly fished it out of his pocket and answered it. Josh, his body as boneless as a jellyfish, completely relaxed, a wide smile still etched on his face, remained asleep. "Bartlet," he said in a low tone. "So, how did it go?" Leo's voice asked, just the tiniest trace of amusement in the gravelly tones. "How did you guess? Oh
never mind – although we should really talk about this annoying prescience
of yours. It's disturbing." "Yes, I did." Bartlet smiled down at the sleeping man beside him. "He's there now, isn't he?" Leo said. "Yeah, he's here. He's
fast asleep." "Yeah, maybe so. Leo…" He hesitated. "You told him about Friday nights didn't you?" Leo said. "I wish you'd stop
guessing everything I'm about to say before I say it," Bartlet said in an
exasperated tone. "Yes, I told him about Friday nights. He calls it our
Friday Night Club - and he wants to join, Leo." "We'll see," Leo said, finally. "Leo, we've started
something here – we can't just…" "It's not just your decision to make," Bartlet snapped. "Yes it is," Leo replied
calmly. "Sir, the ultimate responsibility for this entire country rests on
your shoulders. Just accept that there are some decisions you don't have
to make and this is one of them. I'm in charge on Friday nights, not you.
That's the way we both agreed it, isn't it?" "Good. Now, tell me, was
tonight what you expected?" "I could ask you the same thing, Mr. President," Leo shot right back. Bartlet made a face at the phone. "I'll talk to him when I get back." "He's one of us, Leo. He
always has been. You know we both feel the same way about him." End of Part One Friendly Feedback to Xanthe@xanthe.org |