Title:  A Pound Of Flesh
Author/pseudonym: Cathy Roberts
Email address: huntersglenn@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Status: Completed
Pairing:  John Carter/Peter Benton
Date Completed: September 1, 2001
Archive: WWOMB and The Golden Kingdom of ER, yes.  All others please ask
first.
Series: 1/5
Category: "E.R."
Disclaimer: "ER" and all its characters belong to Warner Bros.  No
infringement of their copyright is intended.  This story was written for
the enjoyment of "ER" fans everywhere, and may be downloaded for your own
pleasure.
Summary:  Set in Season 4, an impromptu act of discipline shocks Carter and
Benton into examining their feelings for one another.


John stared up into the black nothingness of his ceiling.  He knew he
should be asleep, knew that his alarm would sound off disgustingly early.
Despite knowing that, John still couldn't sleep.  His mind was crawling
with the images and harsh words from earlier that night.

Sighing, John rolled over to stare at the wall, his mind once more bringing
those words to life --  'you threw it away', 'stop seeking my approval',
and he could clearly see the disappointment in Peter Benton's eyes.

That was the worse part, John told himself.  To know he had disappointed
Benton.  To know that he would never earn the man's respect no matter how
hard he tried and struggled.  Somehow it had not been so bad when he had
thought that Benton was only angry.  John could handle Benton when the man
was angry with an attitude.  But he couldn't handle knowing he had once
again disappointed his former teacher.  While John knew Anna had been right
to encourage him to run after Benton last night to confront him, John
wished he hadn't listened to her.  Then he could have lived for a few more
days without knowing how badly he had fucked up.

The sound of his doorbell made John frown and he glanced at his clock.  It
was not quite four in the morning and he had no idea who would be at his
door that early...or late, depending on how one looked at it.  One thing
was certain, he thought, he'd never know if he didn't get out of bed.
Besides, whoever it was seemed determined to awaken him because he or she
wouldn't take their finger off the doorbell.  John tossed the covers aside
and shivered as the early morning chill seeped through the lightweight
cotton of his sweatpants, but he left his bathrobe on the bed and headed
out of his bedroom, eager to find out who was at his door.

Walking into the living room, John flipped on a nearby lamp, and squinting
against the glare went to the door.  He gazed through the peephole and his
curiosity was even more peaked when he saw who was standing in the
hallway.  "Doctor Benton?"  John quickly undid the locks and opened the
door to the man.  "Is something wrong?" John asked, knowing that the only
reason Benton would show up at his apartment would be if something bad had
happened.

"Everything's wrong, Carter," Benton replied, his voice firm, but not
angry.  "But you can help make it right again.  May I come in?"

"Sure."  John stood aside to let Benton into the apartment, watching Benton
look around the living room.  "Can I take your coat?"  John pushed the door
closed and gestured to Benton's overcoat.

"Sure."  Benton shrugged out of the coat and handed it to John, then sat
down on the couch while John put the coat in the closet.

John sat down on the coffee table since there wasn't a chair in the room.
"Sorry about the lack of furniture.  Most of what we had in here was
Dennis' and his father had it sent back to Atlanta."

"He didn't leave you anything or offer to sell you something?"  Benton
asked, his eyes boring into John's.

"Uh, he did offer.  I didn't take him up on it.  It was hard enough to keep
living here, I really didn't want to have to look at Dennis' stuff all the
time."

Benton's eyes left John's face as the man continued to look around the
room.  "Nice fireplace."

"Thanks.  It's gas.  One of the perks of this building, I guess.  All the
apartments have one."  John watched as Benton got to his feet and walked
over to the fireplace to look at the items displayed on the mantel.

"This is my appendix, Carter."  Benton put his hand on the top of the jar,
but he didn't pick it up.

"Yep.  Best appendectomy I've ever done," John replied.  He wasn't able to
keep the pride out of his voice or the smile from his face.

"And now it will be the *only* appy you'll ever do."  Benton returned to
the couch.  "After I put Reese to bed, I started thinking about things.
That conversation we had at the El station kept going through my head."

John nodded.  "Mine, too.  You didn't wake me up just now; I haven't been
asleep yet.  I know I disappointed you and I'm sorry."

"Yes, it was a disappointment to find out that you left surgery.  A bitter
disappointment, Carter.  But it's just one on top of so many others,"
Benton hotly said.

"I know," John looked down at the floor, then back up at Benton.  "I know
that I've tried your patience over the years."

Benton slightly smiled. "That's an understatement.  You've lied to me, lied
for me, embarrassed me, disappointed me.  And now this..."

An uneasy silence stretched between them, seeming to last for minutes.
Then Benton spoke again.  "I know a way that you can atone for what you've
done, Carter.  And once you do that then you'll stand a better chance of
ever winning my approval for anything."

"You do?"  John suddenly felt better.  Knowing that Benton would even
consider letting him make things up was good.  "I'll do whatever you want
me to do, Doctor Benton."

"Not so fast, Carter," Benton said.  "You haven't heard what it is."

"I don't care.  I know I disappointed you over the years...and all the rest
of what you said.  Please?  I'll do whatever you want me to do, just let me
have the chance to make it up to you.  I promise that I won't let you down
this time."  John knew he was begging, but he didn't care.  If he had a
chance to make things right then he wanted...no, he *needed* to take it.

"I was thinking about punishments and such and remembered how my Dad would
sometimes have to resort to whipping me with a belt.  Most of the time I
was a well-behaved boy, but when I was bad, I was very bad."  Benton stood
and began to undo his belt.  "Dad would say that there were some deeds that
warranted a special payment, Carter.  A pound of flesh out of my butt."  As
Benton said 'butt' the belt was hanging from his hand.  "And that's what I
propose to you, John Carter.  Are you willing to give me a pound of flesh
as payment for your misdeeds?"

John couldn't take his eyes off of the belt that dangled a few feet away
from him.  It was real leather, he could easily see that much.  A rich and
dark brown, not quite as dark as its owner, but close.  John nearly reached
out to touch the belt, but he made himself clasp the edge of the table
instead.  The very idea of being spanked scared him.  John had never been
spanked in his life and he said so.

Benton smiled gently.  "Maybe that's part of your problem, Carter.  You've
never had to properly atone for anything, have you?"

"No," John agreed, knowing that being sent to his room or not being allowed
to ride his horse for a week weren't nearly the kind of punishments that
one remembered for days or weeks on end.  "But...spanking.  That's not
something you do to a grown man."

"No.  But then a grown man would have been up front with me about what he
wanted to do with his life and career, wouldn't he?"  Benton shot back.

John lowered his eyes and slowly nodded.  Benton was right, if he had been
behaving like a responsible adult then he would have gone to him first.
But John had been afraid to go to him, and so, like a child, he ran away
from Benton and to someone else.  "You're right.  I didn't act like an
adult."

Benton folded the belt in half, and grabbed it by both ends, creating slack
in it.  When he snapped the belt taut the noise resounded through the
apartment.

John jumped and his eyes darted to the belt.  He felt like a child who had
done something wrong and he didn't want to feel the pain from that belt.
He didn't want the humiliation of having his former teacher spanking his
behind, either.  But...John so desperately wanted Benton's approval.  And
he knew that if he turned this down, if he passed on this chance to make
things right with Benton, well, then there was no way in Hell he would ever
earn Benton's approval.

"Well?"  Benton asked.

John tried to say yes, but found his voice had deserted him.  Nodding, he
cleared his throat, then John finally croaked out a "Yes."

Benton nodded.  "Very well then.  But if we're going to do this, then we're
going to do this properly."  Benton sat back down, this time on the edge of
the cushion.  "Bend over my knees."

"Excuse me?" John asked, a half smile on his face as he was not quite sure
he had heard Benton correctly.  "You want me to do what?"

"Bend over my knees.  You've agreed to be spanked, Carter, and it will be
done the proper way or not at all.  It's all up to you, man."  Benton once
more looked John directly in the eyes.

John sighed, then got to his feet.  He hesitated for a few moments, then
took a step to his left before trying to drape his body over Peter Benton's
thighs with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances.  He
could feel the heat of Benton's skin through their clothing and was very
conscious of all the places where they touched.

"You've got to move up some, Carter," Benton said.

John moved up a bit and had most of his torso resting on the couch and his
knees just off the floor.  He wondered if Benton would give him any warning
of when he would begin.  "Are you going to...Jesus!"  John's question was
abruptly cut off when he felt the stinging of the leather belt against his
very tender butt cheek.  Maybe saying yes had not been a good idea.

"That's one," Benton calmly said.  "And this is two."

John yelped as the belt met his butt again, this time on the other cheek.

"You really need to be quiet, Carter.  You don't want your neighbors
knocking on your door asking if everything's all right.  Although I guess
you'd be quite a sight answering the door just to tell them you were
getting the spanking you deserved."

"It hurts," John hissed.  He could still feel the sting from the first
blow.

"Be a man and suck it up, Carter," Benton coldly replied and then another
blow fell.

John's cry of pain was partially cut off by his own fist as John bit down
into the flesh.  That blow had to have landed near one of the others.  It
burned, oh God, how it burned.

"This is four," Benton announced as the next blow fell.

John once more bit into his fist as he tried to keep from yelling.  His
entire ass felt as if it were afire and yet he'd only been struck four
times.  Belatedly, John realized that he hadn't asked Benton how many times
he'd be spanked.  If it was a pound of flesh due for payment then did that
mean that he would be struck 16 times, one for each ounce that made up a
pound?  John hoped not.  He didn't think he could last through that many
whacks.  He was still thinking about that when the fifth blow touched him,
and this time John had no doubt at all that the blow had landed across the
other two on that cheek.  The sharp sting on top of the two still burning
welts nearly brought tears to his eyes.

"Jesus, that hurts," John said.  "How many more to go?"

"How many do you think you deserve, Carter?"

"Um, five?"

Benton chuckled. "I think twice that amount."

"Ten?" John's voice broke on the word.

"Might as well make it an even ten, that way you'll hurt evenly.  This is
six."

John barely had enough time to get his fist back into his mouth before the
belt made contact once again with his butt.  He could taste iron in his
mouth -- the unique taste of blood -- and knew he had broken the skin of
his hand, but the pain from that was nothing like the pain on his butt.
John squirmed a bit and then froze as he realized with a growing horror
that his cock was hard.  He was having his ass spanked with a belt and he
was hard because of it.  And this was happening while he was draped across
Peter Benton's thighs.  John could feel his face growing hot as he knew
there was no way that Benton could miss the hardness against his legs.
This was bad.  This was very bad.

Stroke seven stopped those thoughts cold as it brought more tears to John's
eyes.  He didn't know what was making him teary eyed -- the pain from the
whipping or the humiliation of being turned on.

With stroke eight, John was convinced that it was the pain that was evoking
tears.  Stroke nine landed atop the others and John couldn't hold back the
sob in his throat.  Stroke ten landed soon after, but John was already
crying out loud.  "I'm sorry.  Please forgive me.  Please?"

"Shh.  I forgive you."  Benton helped John up and into a sitting position
on his lap, moving back to sit properly and holding John against his
chest.  While one hand was threaded through John's hair, the other was
rubbing small circles on John's back while John sobbed into Benton's
shirt.  "It's okay, man, you did well.  You did real well."

"I'm such a baby," John angrily wiped his eyes, even as more tears were
forming from the irritation against his hot and now tender bottom.

"No, you're not.  You took ten hard blows with my belt, Carter, and you
didn't cry until the end.  You did well."

"I'm glad one of us thinks that," John said as he relaxed his body against
Benton's.  It felt nice to be held that way, despite his aching butt and
John was beginning to enjoy the feeling of Benton's touches when he once
again realized who he was.  "Thanks," John said as he struggled to his
feet.  Brushing his tail over Benton's pants created enough pain to make
John bite down on his lip, but he didn't hiss -- keeping his responses in
check was too important for him to admit that such a small movement had
hurt.

"You'll be sore for a day or two, Carter."  Benton got to his feet and
began to thread the belt through the loops of his pants.  "If you have some
type of cold cream or hand lotion, then you should put it on.  That will
take some of the sting out."

"Seems wrong to do something to take away the pain.  I mean, what's the
point of being punished if it doesn't hurt?"  John asked, turning around to
face his...he wasn't sure what Benton was at that moment.  Former teacher,
mentor, punisher?

"You have a point, Carter.  But why make yourself suffer needlessly?"
Benton walked to the closet.  "I'll get my own coat and see myself out."

"Thank you."  John watched as Benton put his coat back on and headed for
the door.  "So, this was full payment?"

His hand on the doorknob, Benton turned around, the corners of his lips
twitching.  "No.  This was just a part of it.  By my best estimate, Carter,
I'd say that you still have fifteen ounces left to go until we reach that
pound.  I'll see you at work."  And then Benton was out the door.

Slightly dazed, John went to the door and locked it.  Did that mean that
Benton was going to spank him fifteen more times?  John's cock pushed
against his sweatpants, tenting them out.  "Shut up," John whispered down
to his impudent organ.  "I wasn't asking you.  *You* act as if you want him
to do that...and more."  As John walked back to his bedroom, he couldn't
truthfully say that he didn't feel the same way as his cock.

**********

Peter leaned against the closed door of Carter's apartment.  His body still
but for the rapid rise and fall of his chest.  He listened carefully to the
sounds of Carter locking the door, but he still didn't move.  He closed his
eyes and took a deep breath.  That was close.  Too close.

Peter pushed away from the door and headed for the elevator.  On the way
over, he knew that his idea of spanking Carter had been radical.  But he
had rationalized it in his own mind until it made sense to him.  And he had
rationalized it to Carter even as he knew that Carter would do *anything*
to get even a small word of approval from anyone.  And Peter had taken
advantage of that knowledge.

But Peter hadn't been prepared for what had happened.  When Carter's body
squirmed on his lap with each blow, Peter had become increasingly aware
that Carter's cock was getting harder.  And even as he felt shocked by
that, Peter was even more shocked at how much he had wanted to caress that
ass.  Wanted to roll Carter over, gather him in his arms and kiss him
senseless.  Wanted to...Peter shook his head as the elevator doors opened.
There was no reason for him to think along those lines.  Carter was a
ladies man.  He loved them, even if they only broke his heart time and time
again.  And, Peter liked the ladies as well.  He had a baby to prove it.
Peter knew for certain that the two of them were definitely heterosexual
men.

As the elevator descended, Peter found his memories of the El encounter
pushed aside by an image of John Carter's ass covered by the thin cotton of
his pants.  Judging by the way Carter's butt filled out those pants, Peter
knew that those mounds had to be white and perfect.  Maybe even like
porcelain.  Peter wondered if those mounds would have been as wonderful to
touch as his imagination made them out to be.  Maybe the next spanking
could be a 'hands on' experience.  Peter smiled at the thought and he
nodded at his reflection in the metal plate that surrounded the floor
buttons.  Then his smile faded as he realized that he wasn't thinking like
a heterosexual male, and that wouldn't do.  It wouldn't do at all.

As the doors opened onto an empty lobby Peter had reached a decision --
there would be no more spankings for Carter.  No more opportunities to gaze
upon his body, no more opportunities to feel Carter's hard cock poking his
leg.  No more of anything outside of a professional relationship, and that
one would exist only within the boundaries of a resident and an intern.
Peter had extracted his revenge -- one that left them both with a surprise
-- and it would have to be enough.


End of Part 1