Gargoyles - Hudson/Goliath
"You can't be serious, Hudson," Goliath said atop the castle rooftop, taken aback. "I am far too old to be—"
"—to be punished like a hatchling anymore, yes, yes," Hudson finished for him, having expected the argument. "And too wise and too strong as well, no doubt. But leaders still make mistakes, lad, and even you admitted yours tonight was a big one. A good dose of humility would do ye good, as a reminder that you're not perfect and still need to be put in your place from time to time."
There was a long pause as both men looked each other in the eye. "...You may be right," Goliath said finally, turning away. He thought back on the events of that night. He'd lead the entire clan into an ambush. It'd been a risky move against his better judgement, but he'd let himself be swayed by emotion. Perhaps a physical reminder would do him some good. But still, to be punished in the way Hudson described, it would be...
"Not to worry, Goliath. I've sent the trio away on patrol. There'll be no one to witness this to upset your authority. Well, except for Bronx, but I promise ye he won't talk." Hudson let out a soft chuckle, and the gargoyle dog let out a whine before rolling over to nap in a new position. The old gargoyle laid a hand on Goliath's powerful bicep. "For now, let's just say we're reliving the old days, back before I handed over the reins to you, young buck. Which was only a few short years ago, I should add!"
"Perhaps to you, but to the rest of the world over a thousand years have passed since then," Goliath reminded him with a half-smile.
"Pah, you know what I mean! Giving me lip like that, I ought to give ye extra."
Goliath snorted and shook his head. "I cannot believe I am agreeing to this, but... very well, old soldier. I see your point. Just for tonight, I shall submit and allow you to resume your role as mentor over me. Though I doubt you will be able to hurt me much." He took a moment to flex his muscles, unselfconsciously. His chest and arms rippled and bulged. "I am far stronger now than I was when you lead the clan."
"Oh? Is that so?" Hudson's old lips parted in a sly grin. "That sounds a bit like a challenge."
The large and muscular leader of the Manhattan Clan didn't answer, but simply drew his loincloth down and stepped out of it. His face flushed slightly at the exposure, but he kept his hands at his sides—just like the old days. Hudson seated himself on the edge of the castle battlements and gestured for Goliath to come forward. Feeling ridiculous, Goliath did so, then let himself be drawn across Hudson's lap and his muscular rear perched up in the air. He could see the teeming streets of New York City, shining brightly far below.
"Think of it what you will," Goliath said calmly. "But I still think this is a waste of—YEEARGH!" He suddenly roared in surprise.
Hudson looked down at him smugly, his clawed hand stinging slightly from the first mighty slap he'd bestowed on that fine bottom. But the expression on Goliath's face made it all worth it—utter astonishment at the white-hot clap of pain he'd taken. "Don't worry, lad. I'll show you this old dog still has a few tricks left that can make you squeal."
He whipped his palm down again. This time Goliath's roar was even louder as his opposite buttock got struck equally hard. Hudson couldn't suppress a chuckle as the big warrior started to squirm slightly after only two swats. But the punishment was only just getting started. He raised his hand again.
He'd wanted to do this again for years.