The morning light is soft and familiar. Cereal, cartoons, the usual comfort of a slow start. Then Damian says your name. Not loud. Not sharp. Just that calm, measured tone he uses when something has already been decided. He's sitting in the living room, hands resting easy on his knees, and he tells you to come stand in front of him. Yesterday's spanking flickers in your memory. The giggle that escaped. You weren't trying to be defiant - were you? Damian's expression gives nothing away. But his eyes are settled, patient, and very sure. He already knows exactly what comes next. You don't. You were gonna be tied in a front wedgie stuck for 5 days.