A Measure of Discipline (2 page)

I shuddered in reaction to his touch, and he smiled up at me before he returned his attention to my lap. He looked as eager to get my cock out as I was for him to do it. When he pulled it free of my clothing, the air of the office felt cool on my heated flesh, his breath a brand against it. He swiped his tongue over the head, and as he tasted me, the world faded to gray. The unlocked door was forgotten, his student worker status irrelevant. All that mattered was what he was doing to me.

Ash suckled the head of my cock like a lollypop and eased my balls out of my shorts so he could play with them. I sank lower in the chair as he licked up and down the length, paused at the base to nuzzle and lick my balls. My hands unclenched from the chair to sink into his curls, the silky texture slipping through my fingers an added pleasure.

“Suck me,” I urged. The foreplay was nice, but it wasn’t the time or the place for an extended sexual encounter. Ash’s eyes flashed at me, and then he swallowed my cock. I choked back a cry at the unexpected sensation of being encased in the hot moist caress of his mouth, and my dick pushed against the back of his throat. I’ve never been able to deep throat. Just thinking about it made me want to gag, but there was no denying that having it done to me was incredible. He slid his mouth slowly back up my shaft, his cupped tongue teasing the underside as he did. He made a quiet sound of appreciation as he swallowed me again. Heat pooled in my belly in response to the obvious pleasure he took in my cock. I urged him to a quicker pace, and he was more than willing to give me what I wanted. He took my breath away.

“Fuck, you’re good,” I gasped. His eyes gleamed when they met mine again, his grin awkward with my cock stretching his mouth. Ash’s head bobbed back down, doing something creative with his tongue that made me lift off the chair and slam my cock down his throat. He practically purred his approval of my response and began sucking me with a rhythm that promised I wasn’t going to last long.

The office door opened, Ash froze, and my head jerked up. I found myself face-to-face with Adam in all his six foot two, jean-clad glory.

“Hey!” Adam said brightly as he closed the door and started across the office toward me. My fingers still tangled in Ash’s hair, and even though he had stopped moving, he hadn’t taken his mouth off my dick. The desk hid him from the door. If it were anyone else we’d get away with it. 

“Hey there,” I said, trying not to sound like I was in the middle of a blow job. I thought I did okay, but Adam paused, surprised I hadn’t gotten up to meet him the way I usually did. He always got a kiss when he came by my job. He studied my disheveled appearance; his gaze took in my flushed face and the absence of my hands. Making them reappear and laying them on the keyboard didn’t stop his knowing grin from splitting his face. He walked over behind me and looked down into my lap.

“And hello to you too,” he said. Amusement colored his voice, and my face flamed for the second time that afternoon. Ash lifted his eyes to meet Adam’s and gave his odd cock-in-his-mouth smile. Adam looked at me and rubbed the back of his neck. He turned his attention back to Ash. “It’s nice that you are willing to help out, but you can go now,” Adam told him. Unabashed, Ash slipped his mouth off my dick with an audible pop. He licked the underside and tucked me back into my shorts, then crawled out from under the desk, dusted off his knees, and straightened his clothes. His grin never faltered.

“Sorry, dude, didn’t know there was a boyfriend,” Ash told Adam with a shrug. Adam’s hand squeezed my shoulder.

“Not a boyfriend, just someone with sense,” Adam said. I shrugged him off and got myself together enough to stand up and see Ash to the door. He grabbed his backpack and turned his grin on me.

“Not a boyfriend, huh?” he asked, slinging the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I shook my head.

“No boyfriend, but tomorrow you have to work.” He frowned but didn’t protest as I ushered him out the door. When I closed it and turned around, Adam was sitting in my chair, his feet propped on my desk. He held my ruler in one hand and was using it to slap the palm of his other; his eyes gleamed. I felt a familiar tightening in my balls. I knew that look.

“You’ve been a very bad boy today,” he said, getting to his feet. My mouth went dry, and I reached behind me to lock the door. Adam was bigger than me; that’s always been true. But when he decided to loom, he seemed huge, the breadth of his shoulders exaggerated and the difference between our heights a lot more than a mere four inches. He brushed the back of his fingers across my cheek. I stripped off my sports coat, tossed it onto the desk, and reached for my tie. He stilled my fingers. “No need for that,” he said. His voice was quiet but firm. He expected to be obeyed. I didn’t have a problem with that. His long fingers wrapped around my tie, just below the knot he used to pull me to him. When we were chest-to-chest, he leaned down and his lips brushed mine. My eyes slid shut and my lips parted with a sigh.

“You are such a slut,” he breathed into my parted lips, and my eyes popped open. I tried to protest, but instead of sounding indignant, it came out in a kind of negative-sounding yelp. He regained his grip on my tie and rubbed the side of his face against mine. “Don’t deny it; we both know it’s true.” His breath was hot against my cheek, and I shuddered when it brushed my ear. My cock was completely over any embarrassment and was already taking a reawakened interest in things. Adam chuckled and rocked his hips against me. His dick was just as hard as mine, but no one was accusing him of being a slut. My defense was weak, and I was afraid that in the next few minutes it would crumble completely.

It turned out I overestimated how long it would take. Adam let go of my tie and unfastened my pants. He slid one hand down the back of my underwear and cupped my ass.

“A slut and a very, very bad boy,” he said before he moved away from me. “Bend over the desk, Taylor.” That was when I noticed he still held the ruler. He tapped it against his thigh impatiently as he waited for me to do as he said. I wet my lips, glanced down at his hand and back up at his face. There was no doubting his intent. Just beyond my door, I heard the rowdy sounds of an office party celebrating someone’s birthday. I saw the campus through the tinted windows that thankfully kept anyone from seeing in. I was reasonably sure there were no witnesses when I turned and bent over my desk. I felt the weight of Adam’s hand briefly on the small of my back; then the ruler came into my line of sight when he laid it on the desk beside me. He slid my pants and underwear off my ass, and they slipped to my ankles. He wouldn’t let me step out of them, and they restricted the movement of my legs as effectively as if they were bound. My heart pounded as I waited for him to decide what would happen next.

He rubbed a hand over my ass in small caressing circles. The light slap—when it came—wasn’t unexpected, and the brief sharp pain drove a spike of lust into my groin. My balls tightened and my dick twitched. I bit my lip hard in anticipation of the need to remain quiet. The party in the other room might cover the sound of his skin against mine, but someone would notice if I started howling. Screaming “spank me, baby” was probably not the best thing for my reputation. The thought amused me for a moment before Adam slapped my bottom again, a little bit harder, and the sting was worse. I gasped and shifted a little, and the edge of the desk dug into my hardening cock. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it was sharp against my aroused flesh. It might be the source of more pain than pleasure.

I grabbed my jacket and shoved it between my dick and the desk. When the next slap came, my cock was cushioned, but the friction was there when I rocked my hips forward, and it made me gasp. My cock slid along the slick lining of my jacket, and my body weight kept the edge of the desk in contact with the full length of it. The feeling was unexpected but not unwelcome, and I rocked my hips again: the sensation was the same. I contemplated humping the desk, but Adam had other ideas. His hand came down, and I was distracted from the fuckability of my office furniture by the burn of his palm against my ass.

“You aren’t my boyfriend,” I grumbled against the pile of papers under my cheek. My eyes were fixed on the blurry shape of the ruler just beyond my nose. It was too close for me to focus on, but I was transfixed by it. It wasn’t the traditional wood; it was made of a very flexible plastic. He spanked me again for speaking. I grunted, and the burn of my ass translated itself into an ache in my balls. I licked my lips and stared at the ruler. I wanted him to use it.   

“Letting little boys suck you in the office?” he replied. “Someone needs to spank your slutty stupid ass.” The words were harsh, but the tone was amused. Maybe I was a little bit slutty, but Adam liked it and we both knew it. The ruler beckoned.

“Not a little boy,” I grumbled. “He’s probably older than you.”

Adam leaned over me. I could feel his body heat through his clothes, and the rough material of his jeans brushed against the sensitive skin of my ass. It made me squirm. When my dick rubbed against the desk, I groaned and moved my hips just enough to feel the edge again.

“What did you say?” he asked. Adam did not like to be reminded how much younger than me he was. Not out of college himself, he didn’t have much room to call another upperclassman a little boy. Stretched out half-naked across my desk and completely in his power might not have been the smartest time to point that out, and so, of course, I said it again. I did so at the same time he realized my hips weren’t moving to rub my ass back against him and that, at the moment, I wasn’t even thinking about him very hard. I was caught up in the interesting effect my desk was having on my dick.

His hand gripped my hip hard. His hot breath brushed my ear again. “Holy crap, you really will fuck anything,” he muttered, bemused without sounding mad. I resisted the urge to rub against the desk again, but it wasn’t easy. My cock throbbed and my balls ached. I needed to get off. We were locked up in my office and didn’t have long before someone was going to come looking for me.

“A fuck’s a fuck,” I told him in my very best slut voice.

“Oh, is that so?” The whisper of his breath against my skin sent a shudder through me. As he stood up, the ruler disappeared from in front of me, and I tensed in anticipation. Adam didn’t disappoint, and the sting of the flexible plastic ruler when he brought it down on my ass forced the air out of my lungs in a hiss. The burn where it struck gave an impression of precise dimensions, though I could only imagine how stark the red stripe looked against my fair skin. He brought the ruler down on my ass three more times in quick succession—the impression of that first precise strike was lost. I buried my face in my arms to smother my cries. My skin flamed and burned, but I wanted more. I wanted him.

The ruler fell to the desk as he leaned over me again. One hand braced his weight as he hovered over me, and the other hand petted and soothed my burning flesh. His fingers delved shallowly between my clenched cheeks. I made an approving sound and tried to relax, but my ass was too busy remembering how those strikes against it had felt and wasn’t ready to play nice.

Adam chuckled. “You are a very bad boy,” he breathed into my ear. “I might be able to teach you something if you didn’t like the lessons so much.” The amusement in his voice annoyed me a little. I didn’t need a lecture; I wanted his cock in my ass. He wouldn’t like me half as much if I turned into choir boy on him. I growled my frustration at him and rutted against the desk. If he wasn’t going to get me off, I had nothing against self-service. Adam’s hand on my hip stilled my motion, and his teeth sank into my shoulder. I had no idea why everyone who fucked me thought he had to leave a calling card.

Adam lifted off me, and I felt his hands brush my ass as he unfastened his belt. My heart pounded in anticipation, and I shifted my feet in a failed attempt to spread them wider. A slap from Adam’s hand stilled my restless movements, and I focused on trying to identify what he was doing. The crinkle of the condom wrap and the hiss of his indrawn breath when he rolled the rubber down his cock were a dead giveaway. The slick feel of his fingers probing my ass revealed that he was better prepared than I was for this moment, and I vowed to keep stuffing his Christmas stocking with packets of lube. Dry fucks were not a part of my regimen, and contrary to the bareback hype, spit was not lube. The little packets of lube didn’t hold much, but in combination with a pre-lubed condom, it’d get the job done.