Chapter Eighteen

Writing Lines

I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of the dude who’d approached me, but he didn’t make another appearance.

Alastair had insisted I share my location with him so he could keep tabs when he wasn’t with me. It should have been an imposition. Maybe a couple of weeks ago I would have laughed and told him I was an adult and he didn’t need to babysit me, but I truly didn’t mind. It was nice to know he cared enough about my safety to risk pissing me off. I’d never shared my location with anyone before, even Esther.

Anyway, I didn’t care how many strangers threatened me. I wasn’t going back.

For the first time, I felt like I could breathe. I probably would have felt the same if I was renting any old place, but having Alastair in my corner and in my bed was a real benefit.

By the time Friday night came around, Alastair and I had managed to ‘forget’ about the weirdo and his message. We were out for a date and feeling good about having the time and space to get kinky.

 

* * * *

 

When Sebastian handed me the key to the Bordello on Friday, he had a weird smile on his face.

“Okay, you have to stop looking at me like that,” I said. It was bizarre having a boss who knew just how kinky you were—or wanted to be.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing. “Have a great time.”

Robin looked like he’d give anything to be in my place as Alastair and I exited the gaming parlor. I was thrilled to finally have something that made Robin jealous.

Alastair had dressed the part of sexy professor, wearing brown corduroy slacks, an off-white button-down and a tweed blazer. When he’d come into the living room I’d just about swallowed my tongue.

I’d put on my sexiest pair of ripped skinny jeans and a snug Twenty-One Pilots T-shirt. Alastair had taken one look at me and grabbed his coat. In the entry hall at Molly’s, I’d switched from my boots to a pair of beat-up Converse sneakers with rainbow laces that I’d had for years and would make me look a lot younger.

“Nice touch,” Alastair had said.

I keyed us in and turned on a lamp.

The smell of furniture polish hit me, and I suddenly knew what Jacob had been grinning about. Had they given the antique desks some extra attention because they knew Alastair and I would be using them?

When we’d been here before, I’d been so caught up in the experience in one corner of the room that I’d barely paid attention to anything else after cataloging it for Alastair.

A stretch of wall contained a small blackboard and two desks. One desk was a student’s, with the chair attached and a sloping top that could open. The wood was marked and beat-up, with initials and other graffiti carved into it.

“Fuck,” I said.

When my impressed gaze locked with Alastair’s, he grinned with mischief. Then he walked over to stand before the blackboard. He picked up a piece of chalk and began to write something in a neat, cursive script.

“Take a seat, Mr. Dunn,” he said, in a stern tone, and it was on.

I swallowed, already feeling like a teenager in detention. “Yes, Mr. Kenney.”

He half turned toward me, and I saw the reflexive smile before he became the stern professor again. He finished what he was writing on the board and spun around.

“Take out a piece of paper and a pencil.”

But I was reading the words on the board and didn’t act quickly enough.

“Mr. Dunn, open the desk and take out paper and a pencil.”

I swallowed, but I did what he’d told me to do.

“I want you to copy the sentence that I’ve written on the blackboard on every line of that paper.”

“Yes, Mr. Kenney.”

I picked up the pencil, staring at it like it was some kind of strange technology I’d never seen before. I legit hadn’t used a pencil since middle school. I didn’t even know if I could write.

I raised my hand. “Mr. Kenney?”

“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I print? My cursive isn’t very good.”

He stared at me like he couldn’t believe I was asking for such a thing.

“If your cursive isn’t very good, that’s all the more reason to practice,” he said, sitting on the corner of the teacher’s desk. “Isn’t it?”

Wow. Okay, then.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, suitably chastened.

He gave me a cool smile, and I bent to my task, wondering how long he’d make me work before we got onto more interesting subjects.

I will not send dick pics to teachers.

I almost laughed, because the very idea was mortifying and would probably land a kid at the police station in the current climate. But for our purposes, it was a clever segue into things.

He actually made me fill the page. I couldn’t believe it and kept glancing at him where he sat at the desk watching me in quiet contemplation. The sadistic bastard even motioned me to keep working when I raised my eyebrows with the silent suggestion that maybe we could move things along.

My handwriting was as bad as I’d supposed, but by the end of the page, it did seem significantly improved. I had elected to write my own sentence, instead of the one on the board, because I was a shit-disturber in this scenario, and punishment was the name of the game.

I raised my hand when I was done.

“Yes?”

“I’m finished, Sir.”

“All right. Put down your pencil and bring the paper to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I put the pencil down in the groove of the wood—God, how old was this thing?—and took the paper to the front of the room where Alastair perched on the edge of the desk.

“Here,” I said, holding it out.

He flashed me a look of amusement but then got all stern as he took the paper from me. He looked at it. His lips quirked then flattened into a firm line again.

“This isn’t what I asked you to write.”

“No, Sir.”

He looked at the paper again, his cheeks flushing with either anger or lust, I couldn’t tell. Hopefully, lust pretending to be anger.

He passed the paper back to me.

“Read it.”

I stared at the words I had written, blinking and regretting being a badass. Strange that reading out loud in this situation was just as embarrassing as if Alastair was actually my professor. I should add being a top-notch actor to Alastair’s many talents.

“Out loud, Mr. Dunn.”

Goddammit.

I cleared my throat, then whispered the sentence I’d written all down the page.

“Since the sentence refers to me, I’d like to hear you read it.”

I nodded and licked my lips.

“I want to suck your fat cock, Mr. Kenney.”

Alastair stared at me, and I couldn’t read his expression. Surely, he thought that was funny? Or even sexy? He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head back and forth.

“How on earth would you know the girth of my erect penis, Toby Dunn?” he said, with the most deadpan acting I’d ever seen. He could have won an Oscar for that one goddamn sentence. And those words landed fucking chills all up and down my body. But wow, this was fun.

I stared at the floor—at my wrecked-up sneakers with their dirty rainbow laces—and fought a smile. I kept my eyes down as I responded to his question.

“Because you had me choking on it last week, if you remember. Sir,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets and smirking like a delinquent.

The sound of our heavy breathing filled the space.

“Oh, I remember, Mr. Dunn. If I recall, you handled yourself pretty fucking well.”

“Yes, Sir. I did. So why am I in detention right now?”

“Why do you think you’re in detention right now?”

“Because…because you want me to suck you off again?” I said hopefully.

And he laughed. It was a sound that went right to my dick, because it wasn’t a ‘We’re sharing a joke right now’ laugh. It was a ‘You have no idea what you’re getting into’ laugh.

“If only it were that simple.”

I raised my gaze to his and pressed my palm against the bulge in the front of my jeans.

“Isn’t it, Sir?”

I could tell he was imagining every fucking thing he wanted to do to me in this room. I hoped it was a long list. Maybe he should have written that on the board.

“I’m very, very disappointed in you.”

“You are?” I blinked like the innocent kid I definitely wasn’t.

“Why did you tell Principal McMillan that I sucked you off in the janitor’s closet?”

Huh. My brain tried to come up with a good reason.

“Because I wanted to see the expression on his face?”

“Hmm. Do you know how awkward that conversation was? Trying to convince him you were lying?”

“But I wasn’t lying.”

“Do you want me to lose my job?”

“No, Sir. Of course not. You’re a great teacher.” I licked my lips and gave him a look to let him know exactly which lessons I’d found most stimulating.

“I’m glad you think so. But you should realize, part of what makes me a good teacher is knowing when one of my students needs extra discipline.”

And, there it is.

“Discipline?” I said. Why on earth was that word so hot?

“It’s a good thing we have the whole school to ourselves, so that when I strap you over that desk, you can yell as much as you like.”

I made a little noise and almost came in my pants. “Oh fuck.”

He stood up and straightened his blazer, nodding as if he’d made up his mind.

“Now you can make this easy by doing what I say without argument, or you can make it even more difficult by resisting. It’s completely up to you.”

“Um, I’ll do what you say.” At least, I would to begin with. We’d have to see how far that went.

“Excellent. I can see you are trying to be a good…student.”

“Yes, Sir. The best.”

He grinned at me with a delightful glint in his eye.

“All right then. Best to get this over with.” He walked over to the wall, where a selection of wood and leather paddles in various sizes and styles hung on hooks.

Oh, lordy. Help me. No, wait, don’t. Jesus.

I remembered being spanked over Alastair’s lap. That had hurt a lot. Something told me this would be worse. A thrill of fear coursed through me.

“Hmm.” He touched the polished surface of one of them—an oval shaped paddle with a long handle. Then he looked at me. “Have you ever been paddled before, Mr. Dunn?”

“No, Sir.” My voice was barely there. I cleared my throat. “Never.”

“Hmm,” he said again. He turned to the wooden sticks in some kind of an umbrella stand. They were long and thin and made of different materials. They looked nasty. “Caned?”

I shook my head. “No, Sir.”

He clicked his tongue. “Well, I find that very surprising, Toby, since you don’t seem to know how to follow instructions.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I simply shrugged my shoulders and prayed he wouldn’t decide to cane me. I didn’t know much about it, but something told me I did not want a caning.

“Well, maybe it would be better to start with something less…brutal.”

I shuddered with relief.

He walked behind the desk and opened a drawer.

“Ah,” he said, taking out a wooden ruler. “This will do nicely.”

He examined it and touched his fingertip to the engraved markings as I dissolved into a pool of confused desire. Part of me was terrified, even of a wooden ruler. It was better than a paddle or a cane, but I had no idea how it would feel or whether I’d get off on it.

“Wow, this is even an antique,” he murmured to himself, though he raised his eyes to mine for a split second.

“Huh,” was all I could get out as my pulse hammered in my throat and my cheeks went red.

“Oh, someone is having a lovely reaction to the sight of this instrument of discipline,” Alastair said, smiling in a way I had learned meant that he had numerous kinky ideas percolating in that dirty mind of his. “Now, pull down your jeans and lean over that desk, Mr. Dunn.”

I inhaled so suddenly and fast that it made a noise. “What?”

“You heard me.” He placed the ruler on the edge of his desk as he removed his tweed jacket and started to roll up his sleeves.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

“Yes, Sir,” I quavered, turning around so I didn’t have to look at him as I undid my jeans and pushed them to my thighs. I was super embarrassed, almost as if I were actually a student in a heap load of trouble and hadn’t come to this room with my kinky AF boyfriend for exactly this sort of thing.

My breaths came rapidly, and my dick felt like a ramrod.

“Toby Dunn. Are those lace panties?” Alastair asked, as if he hadn’t already seen me in them numerous times.

“Oh. Yeah. Do you like them, Mr. Kenney?”

“Yes, I like them very much.”

I hooked my thumbs under the waistband.

“Keep them on for now. I’ll warm you up first.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, bringing my arms forward and shaking them out. I wasn’t sure exactly how he wanted me, so I glanced at him with a question in my gaze.

God, he looked insanely good. He totally looked the part. His tweed jacket lay on the desk, and he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows to expose his muscled forearms.

“I suggest you clasp your hands and prop yourself on your forearms.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, starting to turn.

“Psst.”

I hesitated and glanced at him, and he had the biggest smile on his handsome face, coming out of his stern professor mode to reassure me that he was still my gorgeous, kinky boyfriend.

“You look so fucking good like that, Toby,” he whispered. “I can’t imagine you in anything but panties.”

I smirked. “Good.”

They were the skimpiest ones I owned—a soft baby blue color.

He shook his head, then cleared his throat and went back into the role.

“I don’t have all day, Mr. Dunn.”

“Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir.”

I positioned myself on the desk, anxiety and arousal swirling as I leaned onto my elbows and braced myself.

“Oh, hell yes,” Alastair breathed. He cleared his throat and resumed his professional demeanor. “Excellent.”

He came to stand beside me. His familiar scent helped to calm me as he placed the ruler on the desk where I could see it.

“I want you to look at that ruler while I give you some practice swats with my hand, over these shocking panties. I shouldn’t be treating you with kid gloves, but you haven’t been disciplined this way before. If you had, your behavior would be better.”

He shoved the fabric of my shirt up my back with one hand as his other one rested on my ass cheek. It felt warm through the powder blue lace, and I let out a sigh and girded myself for pain.

The first few spanks were hardly anything, and I had to hold back a laugh, because I knew what Alastair could do with his hand, and I was nervous to provoke him. He leaned over and said my name.

I turned my head to look at him.

“You remember your safeword?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Say it if you need to. I don’t want to go too far with this.”

I grinned. “Just enough?”

“Just enough.”

He grabbed the ruler off the desk and straightened.

“I’m going to give you six over the panties, Mr. Dunn. You can make all the noise you want—just know that it won’t deter me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“It’s my job to teach you to behave.”