Apollo, the God of Music, decided to come out and play for the Tea Room's March Music Challenge.
The brat lay sniffling into his pillow, a few tears of remorse slipped down his
face. His bottom still hurt as it had only been an hour since the paddle had
fallen repeatedly on it. Oh, he'd received his fair quota of cuddles and hugs
after the spanking had ceased, but lying here on their bed alone had given the
brat time to think, and regret, what he had done.
He'd left the house without leaving a note for Apollo, his top. He'd been late
to dinner; he hadn't even made dinner and it was his night to cook. When Apollo
had questioned him about it, the brat had put to good use all the things he'd
learned at the brat ca…er, all the things other brats had shown him. He had
thrown a temper tantrum and accused Apollo of treating him like a child. After
stamping his foot, for this brat was a great foot-stamper, he tossed out, "I
don't have to do what you say!"
Gasps, groans, and voices of brats saying, "Oh, man, is he going to get it",
echoed across Olympus. And get it he did: a firm paddling, an assurance that all
was forgiven, and cuddles and comfort that reassured him of his top's love.
"Maybe I left those cuddles too soon," the brat whispered to himself.
"I think maybe you did." Apollo's voice drifted gently from the doorway.
The brat watched Apollo walk into the room and turned on the radio. Soft music
played as Apollo lay down on the bed and gathered him in his arms.
Listening to the music, safe in his tops arms, the brat asked, "How did you know
I needed you?"
"Music may soothe the savage beast, but only his top can soothe the crying
brat," Apollo said hugging his brat close. "And the pizza I've ordered will
quiet the growling stomach."
Tightening his arms around his top, the brat's sniffles had stopped and there
were no more tears falling down his face. His bottom still burned slightly, but
there was peace in his heart.