The Client Gets Spanked

From: [email protected] (Eric Blyton)

Author's Note: This is in response to a request. For those that don't know, I take requests for stories about boys from TV shows or Movies who you think need a good spank. Send them along and I'll see what I can do.

Background: This is based on "The Client", a book by John Grisham that was made into a movie. The movie followed the book quite closely and was in my opinion the best of the many Grisham adaptations. The story was about an eleven year old boy named Mark (played by Brad Renfro) who, along with his little brother, went into the woods to sneak a cigarette. There they came across a man who was trying to commit suicide in his car using carbon monoxide. Mark tried to stop him, but was caught and the man tried to kill him, too. Before he did, he told Mark that he was a lawyer who knew where a mobster client of his had put the body of a U. S. Senator he had killed. The cops couldn't nail the mobster without the body, even though everyone knew who had done the Senator in. Since he expected both he and Mark to die, he decided to tell the boy where to body was. Then he passed out drunk. Mark's little brother rescued him, and then fell into a stress-induced catatonic state. When the lawyer woke up still alive, he shot himself. The cops came and soon everyone got the idea that Mark knew where the body was. The mob wanted him to keep silent and ambitious district attorney Roy Foltrigg (played by Tommy Lee Jones) wanted him to talk. His only protection was his lawyer, Reggie Love (played by Susan Sarandon). Mark is put on the witness stand in juvenile court and asked to tell what he knows. He "takes the 5th" and is put in jail for contempt of court. And that is where this little tale picks up.

* * * * *

Roy Foltrigg was fuming. Idiots! He had total idiots working under him! They couldn't even handle an over the hill Juvenile Court judge. He thought he could have trusted Fink and Truman to take care of matters in Tennessee; they would find out where Boyd Boyette was buried and then Foltrigg could go with the cops, unearth the body and grab the front page. What a headline it would make; what a boost for his as yet undeclared candidacy for Governor. But they had botched it, and now he was going to have to go up there and sort the mess out himself. It meant he would have to fly like the wind to get back to New Orleans in time for the big event.

The pilot began the decent and the lear jet plunged through the clouds. Foltrigg checked his seatbelt and watched the ground grow larger beneath him. The landing was smooth and they taxied up to the hanger. Foltrigg already told the pilot to be on hand and ready to leave in a moment's notice. He needed to be ready to move instantly, so as much as he hated to fly, he had to overcome it. As he got out of the plane, he saw his bumbling deputies on the tarmac. As he approached them, Fink started to say something but Foltrigg just held up his hand.

"Shut up, Thomas," he snapped, "I don't want to hear it right now unless you can tell me where Muldanno hid Senator Boyette's body."

Fink couldn't tell him that and so he said nothing. The two nervous men led Foltrigg to the car and they got in.

"So tell me what happened," Foltrigg demanded.

Fink gave his version of the events, trying to make it sound better than it was. His boss was not a man to cross. At the end he summed it up this way.

"You see, boss, our hands are tied because the kid is much more scared of the mob than he is of us. There's nothing we can do to get him to spill his guts."

"Of course he's scared of the mob, you dope. They have him on a hit list, I expect. What did you offer him if he talked?"

"Offer him?" Fink was confused, "I don't understand?"

"Witness protection, a reward for the information, that sort of thing," Foltrigg clarified in an annoyed voice.

"But the boy isn't a witness and there is no reward for Senator Boyette's body," Fink protested.

"You bumbling bureaucrat!" Foltrigg exploded, "You have the imagination of a turnip! Here we have a tough trailer park kid and you try to bully information out of him without offering him anything? And with the mob hot on his heels? Why would he tell us anything? I wouldn't if I were him!"

Foltrigg's rage had the two men very unsettled now and they looked at each other nervously. There was one further bit of information their boss didn't know and neither of them wanted to be the one to tell him.

"So where is the boy now?" Foltrigg asked, bringing it up anyway, "Back with his lady lawyer."

"Um, no boss," Fink said as sweat broke out on his forehead, "The judge put him in jail for contempt."

"Jail! You idiots! Haven't you heard of Lee Harvey Oswald? You've put him practically in the mob's hands! Take me to that jail right away, we have to get him out of there!"

Truman put the pedal to the metal and sped off towards the jail. As they drove, Foltrigg thought about how he was going to get this kid to talk. It was too late to just offer him protection and money; there was now way the boy would trust them, now. Still, he would try it anyway. If that didn't work, he had another trick up his sleeve.

The reached the prison and went inside. Early on, Foltrigg had made the mistake of treating the people here in Memphis the way he treated people back home. That had been a mistake; he was out of his jurisdiction here and the people had resented him. This time he showed his nice side and was much more successful.

What he asked for was that the boy be brought into an interrogation room handcuffed and to have about half an hour alone with him. This was highly irregular, to say the least, but Foltrigg turned on the charm and got what he wanted. They came and told him the boy was waiting in the room and led Foltrigg there.

Foltrigg walked inside the room and locked the door. This was a soundproof interrogation room and Foltrigg had a good idea what it was used for. The ACLU would have fits if they knew about it. He sat down and looked at the boy.

The kid was giving him a tough guy look, but Foltrigg could see right through the bravado to the scared boy underneath. He was surprised to find Mark very good looking; he'd expected a plain, punkish looking kid.

"Do you want a cigarette?" Foltrigg asked, offering the boy one. He didn't smoke, but pretended to sometimes.

"No thank you," Mark said.

"Good," Foltrigg relied dropping the cigarette and crushing it under his shoe. "A filthy habit."

Looking back at the boy, Foltrigg could see he was confused. Good. That was just what he wanted.

"Smoking got you into this mess you're in now, didn't it?" he asked.

Mark nodded his head and looked at the ground. Another point for me, Foltrigg thought.

"I can get you out of this mess, Mark," he said, "But you have to tell me where the body is."

"But I don't know where it is," Mark protested. "He didn't tell me."

Foltrigg was a seasoned prosecutor. It was clear to him that the boy was lying. It was also clear that he would be hard to break.

"Mark, do you know that if you give me information that leads to us finding Senator Boyette's body, you get a reward of a million dollars?"

Once again he succeeded in startling his opponent.

"No one said anything about a reward!" he protested, "And there's been nothing in the papers. Besides Reggie would have told me if there was a reward. You're just lying to me because you think I'm a dumb kid!"

"I think you're far from dumb, Mark," Foltrigg drawled, "And no one has heard of the reward because I created it just now. But I can assure you, if you tell me what I want, not only will you be paid one million dollars, but you, your little brother and your momma will be sent somewhere safe where the mob will never find you."

"I don't believe you!" Mark snapped, "You don't care about me. You just want to get elected Governor. You'd tell me any lie and as soon as I tell you what you want, you'll forget about me, and I'll get killed!"

"Well, at least now you admit you know where the body is," Foltrigg said with a sly grin. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but for a moment, nothing came out.

"I didn't say that!" he weakly protested.

"Mark, let's cut the crap," Foltrigg said. You know, I know you know and you know I know you know. You're right, I do want to be Governor. And a good thing to. I don't know if you know anything about our current Governor, but he's a real bandit. I'm no saint, but I'll be better than him. Plenty of people in the state are pulling for me, so it will be no problem getting the state house to come up with reward money for you and to put your family in the witness protection program. I know you're smart, so think about this; if you get killed, the press will be all over my ass for not protecting you and my campaign will sink. So even if I had no heart and didn't care about you, which isn't the case by the way, it's in my best interest to keep you alive. So what do you say, do you want to come clean?"

Foltrigg had put all his powers of persuasion into this speech, but all the same, he rated his chances at fifty-fifty. Not good enough, as it turned out.

"I'm not talkin'," Mark said with a scowl on his face as he leaned back on the bench.

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Foltrigg said as he opened his briefcase, "But I came prepared."

He reached in and brought out a thick wooden paddle. Mark looked at it and his eyes widened.

"No way are you using that thing on me, man," he said in a voice that had the slightest waver to it.

"Wanna bet?" Foltrigg said as he picked up the paddle and moved over to Mark.

"You can't! I want my lawyer! I have rights!"

"You have rights," Foltrigg agreed. "And I'm about to violate a whole bunch of them. Because, believe it or not, this if for your own good."

As Foltrigg took hold of the handcuffed arms, Mark started to yell for help.

"No good, kid," Foltrigg said. "This is a soundproof room. Also, I left orders for us not to be disturbed. The only thing that will save your butt is if you fess up."

"Never!" Mark said with tears in his voice.

"Never say never," Foltrigg advised as he pulled the struggling boy over his lap. The handcuffs made him easy to control and he pined Mark's legs between his. Firmly grasping the paddle, he brought it down hard on the seat of the boy's pants, WHACK!

Mark cried out, partly in pain and partly in outrage, but Foltrigg just brought the paddle down again, WHACK!

It was going to take more than two to get any results, so Foltrigg just let him have it, WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Mark's cheeks were stinging and he was fighting back tears. His father had been a violent man, but most of the time he had been hitting his wife, not Mark. The few times he had hit Mark, it had been in the face, not on the rear so this was a new experience for him. And a very unpleasant one, at that. Foltrigg kept right on spanking him, WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK!!!

Just as Mark was about to burst into tears, the man stopped.

"Are you ready to talk?" he asked.

"Fuck you!" Mark screeched. Foltrigg just sighed.

"I guess we'll have to up the stakes, then," he said. He loosened his grip on the boy's legs and Mark thought that he was going to let him up, so it was more than a little upsetting to find the man fiddling with the front of his pants.

"Don't you dare!" Mark protested in a thin voice as he made a renewed effort to break free. But it was futile; the man was just too strong. The boy felt his jeans being pulled down, leaving him with only his underwear to cover his already bruised bottom.

When Foltrigg had the boy's pants down past his knees he got him back into position and started again, WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Mark howled. There was a big difference between the denim of his jeans and the thin cotton of his underpants. Each new blow was an explosion of burning pain. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

There was no holding back the tears, now. The faucets in his eyes opened full blast and rivers of salty moisture ran down his face, WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!!!

Foltrigg couldn't believe how much the kid was taking. He sure was tough! His arm was getting sore; he could only imagine how Mark's ass felt. It was time to play the final card.

"Mark, I don't want to do this, but I'm going to," he said as he grasped the elastic band of the boy's white cotton briefs, "You're going to get spanked on your bare bottom until you tell me what I want to know."

The shock of feeling his underpants being pulled down over his abused butt penetrated Mark's pain-filled mind. The man was going to spank him on his naked bottom! But still he remembered the mobster's threat.

"I CAN'T!" he wailed.

"You have no choice," Foltrigg said as he brought the paddle down on Mark's cherry-red cheeks, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Mark's lungs didn't have enough air in them to give his cries the full voice they deserved. Even so, his own screeches were nearly deafening him. The only other sound he heard was the stinging spanks of the paddle, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

His poor bottom felt like the skin was being taken right off it, layer by layer. The hot, stinging pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!!

"PLEASE!" Mark screeched out, "I'll tell!"

Foltrigg stopped and Mark struggled to get the words out.

"It's buried... under the boat... in Cilfford's garage," he blubbered.

Foltrigg could tell he had gotten the truth, so he put down the paddle and very gently picked the boy up and held him in his lap. With one hand, he rubbed Mark's very hot bottom and with the other, he held the boy's face against his chest. The kid's tough act made him seem older than he was, but his small, hairless penis and testicles betrayed his youth.

"Shush, baby," Foltrigg said softly to the sobbing boy, "I'm going to take care of you. I promise. You don't have to worry about anything now."

Mark's emotions were a wreck and he was prepared to accept comfort even from this very unexpected source. He leaned against the man and held on to him. His nose was running and this along with his tears was wetting Foltrigg's shirt, but the man didn't seem to mind. He just rocked the boy back and forth, while he continued to massage his sore bottom. Mark had never before received physical affection from another male, and this alone was enough to cause him to forgive Foltrigg for the excruciating pain he had inflicted on him.

Foltrigg held him and gently rocked him for close to fifteen minutes while the boy's crying slowly subsided. Then Mark became aware of his nakedness and Foltrigg carefully pulled his pants back up for him.

"Please don't tell anyone you spanked me," Mark said. Foltrigg had no plans to do so; in fact, he figured that he would have to bribe Mark to keep him quiet, but the boy was clearly somewhat embarrassed by the experience, and didn't want anybody to know. Foltrigg promised and asked Mark if he was ready to go. He nodded and so they got up.

Holding Mark's hand, he led the boy out into the front of the building. There he called the judge and asked if he would set Mark free. Then he called Reggie Love and asked her to meet them at the airfield. He and Mark got in to the back of the car while his two underlings drove. He called New Orleans and arranged for a team to prepare to dig up the body. At the same time he also leaked the story to the press so there would be plenty of coverage. With that done, we told the FBI to get ready to move Ms. Sway and her younger son somewhere safe.

Mark was leaning against him and had fallen asleep when they reached the jet. Ms. Love was there and Mark hugged her as they piled on board. Foltrigg explained the deal he had made to her and told her she would see a draft copy for approval within the day. She nodded, happy that her client had made out so well.

Finding the body enabled Foltrigg to get a conviction against "The Blade". With that to kickstart his campaign, he rode a law-and-order momentum into the Governor's Mansion. There he signed The Blade's death warrant and pursued the Sulari Crime family zealously. He bent any number of rules, but in a state that had produced Huey "The Kingfish" Long, no one much cared. By the end of his first term the Sulari family was smashed and they were in no position to care about a boy who had brought down one of their more incompetent members.

Mark and his family had entered the witness protection program and were living happily in Delaware. Foltrigg actually kept in touch and even looked Mark up a few times when he was in Washington. D. C. Both man and boy recognized that the other was mainly responsible for their rise in fortunes and they became good friends. Mark even came down work on one of Foltrigg's re-election campaigns. And neither of them ever mentioned the spanking to another soul.

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