by T M Chris
“Thirty?” Grant asked, his tone business-like, as if he were trying to make this normal.
Kelvin nodded. He didn’t trust his own voice. There would be too much need in it. His whole being ached for Grant to lay his palm down on his unprotected flesh.
And then Grant did. The first slap was everything Kelvin had ever imagined, and it only got better from there. A thin layer of cotton didn’t seem like enough to offer protection, but the sting was so much sharper, and Kelvin could feel Grant’s hand bouncing right off his ass cheek. His flesh rippled under the impact, and the sound—dear God, that sound. It was so perfect, that smack of flesh against flesh. Knowing how red his ass must be getting and that Grant could see it, could see his handprint turn it briefly white as each slap landed. Kelvin humped and yowled, losing himself in the experience, letting go of any pretense.
He was being disciplined, getting what he needed and deserved. And it felt deliciously painful and humiliating and important and… loving. Grant’s hand must be on fire, but he kept up his brisk and determined assault, smacking Kelvin with a steady and unavoidable rhythm. Then Grant started moving his hand around, finding locations made freshly available by the lack of underpants, so that blows landed on the underside of Kelvin’s cheeks or at the tops of his thighs—new and tender spots that rang through him like he was a bell Grant knew how to play.
The higher the pain ramped up, the higher Kelvin’s pleasure soared until Grant landed a blow right across the middle of his ass that reverberated all the way through him, and he came. He’d been yelping out his pain, writhing in Grant’s lap as if he were trying to get away, though he wasn’t at all trying to get away, but the orgasm froze him. He arched his back as he jetted into his jockstrap, his mouth open but silent.
And then he was crying, great heaving sobs as if all the pain were catching up with him at once, but it felt cathartic, like something had snapped that needed to be broken. Through his tears, he was aware that Grant had stopped spanking him, that Grant was just rubbing his steaming ass, stirring up little flickers of pain with every brush.
“I’m not sure that was thirty,” Grant said.
“I’m sorry,” Kelvin gasped. He wasn’t sure for what—for not making it up to thirty, for coming against Grant’s leg like a dog, for forcing Grant to spank his bare ass by showing up in a jockstrap, for lying about his list. For all of it.
“It’s all right,” Grant said, his tone excruciatingly neutral. “But since you weren’t able to finish your spanking, I’m going to give you some corner time.”
“Corner time?” Kelvin didn’t know what that meant.
“Stand up.”
Kelvin got to his feet. The front of his jock was all wet. Grant’s thigh must be wet too but Kelvin was afraid to look. He reached for his pants, but Grant stopped him.
“Corner time is done with your pants down.” Grant sounded very sure, like this was something he did a lot. “Stand over there, in the corner.” The corner wasn’t very far away, the room being pretty small, but Kelvin felt ridiculous shuffling to it. “Now face the wall,” Grant said like he shouldn’t have to explain it.
Oh. Corner time. Suddenly Kelvin understood. He was being made to stand in the corner like a bad child with his bare, punished ass sticking out into the room where Grant could see it. And all the while, he was still crying, feeling both satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time. He’d fucking come his brains out, and his body tingled with the aftershocks of both the orgasm and the spanking. But he was over here in a corner because he hadn’t managed to take his whole punishment, and Grant was mad at him. Grant was so mad he didn’t even want to see Kelvin’s face.
“Nose right into the corner,” Grant barked. There was a lot of strangled emotion in his voice, like he was on the verge of spanking Kelvin all over again, and Kelvin wished he would because it would be a connection instead of this shunning.
And then, quietly, underlying Kelvin’s sobs, he heard a noise—a choked, anguished whimper Grant had tried to contain. It was the sound of arousal, of someone on the verge of coming and trying to do it noiselessly. Kelvin peeked over his shoulder, despite having been told to keep his nose in the corner. Grant had his eyes closed. His hand was inside his pants, moving furiously. He choked back another whimper, and his eyelids parted just enough that they made eye contact.
Kelvin held his breath, but when Grant just kept jerking himself off, he found the courage to do something about it. He shuffled over to Grant’s chair, the damp and deflated pouch of his jockstrap leading the way, and lowered himself to his knees between Grant’s legs. Grant plunged his fist down, taking the front of his trousers with it so his cock popped out over the top, and Kelvin went for it. Hands, mouth—all of him grabbing for Grant’s hard cock with gleeful abandon.
Yes. This was what he needed to feel fully satisfied—to give back to Grant what Grant had given to him. He was so grateful to Grant, and he poured that gratitude out into a rushed and sloppy blowjob that had Grant coming in minutes. Kelvin sucked down everything he was given until Grant sagged into his chair with a relieved sigh.
“Fuck,” Grant said.
Yeah. Fuck. They’d just done that. Kelvin had come, Grant had come. Grant had said it wasn’t about sex, but that’d been sex. Kelvin licked the softening shaft in front of him, waiting for Grant to turn business-y on him again, but Grant tugged him into his lap and they sat like that, cradled together in silence.
“You’re a good boy,” Grant said finally, and that was exactly what Kelvin needed to hear.
Chapter 9
Kelvin was ready for his next appointment—dressed in his jock, carrying his counterfeit task list that had just the right amount of things checked off. The truth was that he’d gotten almost every single thing done. He’d floated through the first few days when his ass stung and his memories were bright, then managed to keep pulling himself forward through the rest of the week, wanting to make Grant proud of him even though he had to lie so Grant wouldn’t know.
This was working. Just not exactly in the way the study had hypothesized because he was a dirty little pervert. But if he was a dirty little pervert, then Grant was too. Grant had gotten off on spanking him, had been so turned on from doing it he’d had to jerk off right there. And then the two of them had cuddled and Grant had sent him on his way with a sweet kiss to his forehead and everything had been just perfect. Kelvin couldn’t wait to do it again.
The only thing he didn’t like was that woman. Kelvin scowled at her as she walked past him.
“You ready?” Grant asked.
Kelvin was definitely ready. He popped up to his feet and dashed after Grant, crashing to a sudden halt when Grant led him to the wrong door.
“Isn’t it that way?” He tried to move toward their usual room, but Grant stopped him.
“There’s someone doing an orientation in there today. We’re in here.” Grant opened the door to the other room and gestured Kelvin inside.
Well, it didn’t matter which room they were in, did it? The two rooms were basically identical, except that on this side of the wall there was a mirror instead of a window. Because this was the room you could see into. Grant had said there was an orientation going on next door, which meant someone might be spying on him just like he’d spied on Taylor.
“Um.”
Grant caught where his gaze was pinned and nodded. “So we’ll just do the usual thing,” he said carefully, his eyes full of his intent.
Kelvin glanced at his crotch, trying to convey that he had his jock on, and Grant nodded.
“What have you got for me?” he asked. “Let’s see how you did.”
Kelvin crumpled up the list in his hand and stuffed it into his pocket. In the recesses of his backpack, he had the real list—the one he’d been carefully following all week. He dug that out and handed it over. Grant smiled broadly.
“This is excellent. Super good work. Just that one paper you didn’t do a final proofing pass on. What happened with t
hat?”
“The week gets long.”
They were both standing, shuffling awkwardly with the awareness that someone might be watching them.
“Long in what way?”
“I told you,” Kelvin said with a pout. “I need more than one session a week.”
“Doesn’t look like you need a session at all this week. You did great. This hardly even calls for a spanking. Just one swat. Not even worth taking your pants down for.”
Grant sat in the spanking chair and Kelvin played along—leaving his pants on but bending over Grant’s lap. Grant delivered one sharp crack against the denim covering his ass. It was ridiculously ineffective. Kelvin stood up, so disappointed he could cry. He’d been waiting for this all week. Next week was going to be a disaster. He barely held back his tears as he despondently went through next week’s schedule with Grant, not that it mattered.
“You did great,” Grant said, trying to reassure him as he sniffled his way out of the room.
Out in the reception room, Grant gave him a handshake instead of a private kiss on top of his head. Kelvin left the building feeling like he’d woken up on Christmas morning to a stocking full of coal. Except he’d been good! He deserved his reward. Which was a punishment. It was all so confusing that he sat down at the bottom of the steps leading into the building, his motivation completely dried up. He had that restless urge to do something without being able to fix on anything to do so that he kept sitting there, miserable with it, knowing he should get up but unable to.
“Kelvin?” Grant had come out of the double glass doors behind him. He sat down on the step next to him. “Hey, buddy. What are you still doing here?”
“Nowhere else to go.” That wasn’t true. He had a hundred places to go but neither the energy nor the decision-making skills to pick one.
“Do you want to review your list with me again?”
“Not really.”
“I’m sorry if that seemed rushed or cold. Given that we were being observed, I couldn’t be as… warm as I’d have liked. But I really am proud of you. It goes to show the program is working. We got off-track last week, but you’re on track now.”
“I’m not on track,” Kelvin blurted out. “This week is going to be a disaster. The program isn’t working at all, not the way you think, not like it’s supposed to.”
“If the program isn’t working, then what is?”
“The spankings. The spankings work.”
“Yes, but that’s—”
“Not like that. I’m trying to tell you.” Kelvin was frustrated with Grant and this study and himself. Why couldn’t anything ever be straightforward for him?
“Kelvin.” Grant put an arm around him. “Explain it to me. I’m listening.”
So Kelvin explained. He told Grant about the fake checklist last week, about how having his ass hurt helped him concentrate. He tried to explain how the spankings were reinforcement. He didn’t use the word love, because he knew Grant only saw him as a subject, but he talked about how much he liked it when Grant hugged him or kissed him or told him he’d been good, about how he’d liked the corner even, once he’d realized Grant was watching him, and especially how much he’d liked going down on Grant after, servicing him in a way that felt like a completion of what they’d done together.
It was a lot of embarrassing things to say, and they were on the stairs in front of an academic building with people streaming in and out and pigeons foraging for food and the sun warm on their shoulders. No cinderblock or blinds to block anything out—just him being honest.
Grant kept his arm around him the whole time, which was the only thing giving Kelvin the courage to continue, because if Grant hated him or was judging him, he would stop hugging him, right? When Kelvin was done, Grant squeezed him in a little closer.
“So you’re a submissive, and submission grounds you. That’s not unusual, you know. It’s just not what the study was intended to address. You should find a Dom—someone who’ll spank you just for the fun of it.”
Kelvin had a mental image of what a submissive looked like, and it involved a lot of latex and chains. He wasn’t sure he appreciated having that word applied to him.
“I’m not a submissive,” he grumbled. He just wanted to be spanked. But not randomly spanked. Very specifically spanked, exactly like how Grant did it and for the reasons Grant did it. As far as sucking cock went, that wasn’t anything new, but it wasn’t submission. It was just him liking cock. He was a bottom too, but that wasn’t submission either. “Are you a Dom?”
“I seem to enjoy spanking people. That wasn’t something I knew before this study. Kind of inconvenient.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not supposed to be enjoying it. What happened last week was wildly inappropriate for a lot of reasons. If we’d been caught, or if you’d reported me—which you would have had a right to do—I’d have been thrown out of my doctorate program. I was petrified about meeting you today. I can’t risk my career like this.”
Grant removed his arm, as if remembering that they were a TA and a student sitting in public together. Kelvin missed it immediately, but he didn’t deserve Grant’s care, considering he’d tried to get Grant and Dr. Abidi in trouble just like Grant had been afraid he might do.
“And you’re fucking up the study,” Grant said. “Lying like you did last week—it’s bad data. We should have you removed.”
“I won’t lie anymore.” He didn’t want to drop out of the study. He needed the extra credit. Even though his grades had improved recently, there were all those bad grades from earlier in the semester pulling down his average.
“I should probably withdraw from administering the study too,” Grant said.
“You should.” He hated that Grant spanked other people. “You like spanking that woman,” he accused.
Grant shrugged. “Not really. I’m gay.”
“What about the men you spank?”
“Yeah, I like it. Not as much as I like spanking you. You’re the only one who’s gotten me hard during a session, but I used to think about spanking those other guys at night when I was… you know.”
“What do you think about now?”
“You.”
That was fair. Kelvin thought about Grant too, about how buttoned-up he seemed but how he could really let it fly, about the way he’d cupped Kelvin’s jaw as Kelvin had sucked him down and all those affirming things he’d murmured about how good Kelvin was. A good cocksucker, a good boy.
“I love how you take it,” Grant said, shifting like he was getting hard, same as Kelvin was, sitting out there where everyone could see them, talking about such dirty things. “You want it so bad.”
Kelvin nodded. He really did. Wanted it, needed it, all those things. Whether the word submissive applied or not, that was him. He’d arrived at a place where he’d accepted his kinky desires. Now he just needed to get them fulfilled.
“And when you’re humping my leg while you’re letting me blister your ass…” Grant let out a wistful sigh. “Last week, I could see how I was blistering it. All that fucking red. Almost purple in places. I really let you have it.” Grant cleared his throat. “But we’d better not do that anymore. Even without the two-way mirror, we could get caught. It’s just too dangerous, and it’s not right. I never thought I’d be one of those professors who takes advantage of his students.”
“You’re not my professor though,” Kelvin protested, feeling an extra shot of guilt for that visit he’d made to the dean. “It’s not like you grade my papers or teach my section.”
“Still. I’ll have Mynna rearrange the schedule so you’re working with someone else. It’s the least we can do.”
“No!” Kelvin’s shout spooked a passing woman into dropping half her books. “I don’t want anyone else spanking me,” he said more quietly.
“Then do your work.”
Do your work, do your work. That was what the dean had said, what everyone said.
“You’re le
aving me to fail. Abandoning me when I’ve finally found something that helps.”
“You could find a Dom.”
“I want you. If you won’t spank me, I’ll tell on you.”
“That’s a really shitty thing to threaten me with. I ought to spank you just for saying it.”
“Do it!”
“No, you know what? We’re done here. Stay in the study or don’t. Either way, I won’t be spanking you again.” Grant stood up and started to walk away.
Kelvin ran after him. He grabbed him by the arm and clung to him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I would never do it. I just need you so bad, Grant. Please.”
He put all his heart into that last please, but when Grant kept walking, Kelvin let him go. He plunked down on the lawn they’d been crossing and cried, not even caring that people were looking at him. He wouldn’t be at this college for long, not without Grant and those spankings, so it didn’t matter what the people here thought of him.
Chapter 10
The next week was as bad as Kelvin had predicted it would be, maybe even worse because in addition to being bedeviled by the usual executive dysfunction, he was heartsick. He’d known he was attracted to Grant, that he liked having Grant spank him, that he beat off regularly to the fantasy of Grant doing other things to him, but he hadn’t realized just how attached he’d become emotionally. He was going to miss Grant’s hugs and forehead kisses as much as he would miss being spanked. It was like he’d lost his boyfriend and his life hack at the same time.
He showed up to his next session, hoping Grant hadn’t really changed the schedule, dressed in boxers because he’d made a bargain with himself and God that if he would be good and not push Grant’s boundaries then they could go back to what they’d had. His task list was full of uncompleted tasks, and he wasn’t lying this time. His week had really been that bad. He clutched it in his fist as he sat in the reception room, full of eager hope that Grant had relented, but when the door to the back rooms opened, it wasn’t Grant who ushered the usual woman out. It was the guy Kelvin had watched spank Taylor that first day—a dark-haired stout man with an inexpressive face.