by Louisa Bacio
At the sight, Tucker moaned and strove forward. Mario grabbed his elbow, shaking his head. “No.”
“You need to stay here. Ms. Lucy will call you when she’s ready for you to come out,” Clarissa said.
“Look at them,” Tucker said, “with their paws all over my woman. And his tongue just about right up her—I can’t even say it, let alone do it.”
The admission stilled Mario, and he looked the guy over in a different light. “Can’t even do it?” If Tucker didn’t go down on his wife, it would serve him right if she left him.
“Dude, don’t even say anything.” Tucker yanked his arm from Mario’s grasp and settled into a chair, arms crossed over his chest and bottom lip sticking out.
In front of them, the twins stripped Kimmie and laid her out on the oversized cot. Her hair fanned out over the pillow.
“Soldier, spread your arms wide.” Blaine held one of her wrists, securing it to a leash at the top of the bed. He trailed his hand along her inner arm, her elbow, and toward her other wrist before securing it too. The blindfold still covered her eyes.
“Do you understand you’re under direct orders to do everything we tell you?” Wayne asked.
“Yes.” She spoke the word so softly, Mario could barely hear her above the crowd.
“What did you say?” Wayne yelled. “I can’t hear you.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” she yelled.
“That’s more like it.”
Next to him, Tucker fidgeted and mumbled something unintelligible.
“What did you say?” Mario asked.
“Better not repeat it,” he replied. “I’m sure it would get me in trouble.”
The mood music playing lowered, and Ms. Lucy stepped into the tent, carrying a microphone. She wore a customized tuxedo with short, black shorts, and a cardinal-red jacket that cut in a flair, tails trailing over her ass. From where he was sitting, it appeared as if she wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath the buttoned jacket. She resembled the ringmaster at a three-ring circus—only a very sexy version of one. Her top hat sat askew on her head, and she tipped the brim at Clarissa when she entered.
“Hello, hello, welcome to the big show at Sex University.”
The chatter of the audience died down, and Tucker tensed, as if ready to jump up at any minute.
“Tonight, we have a very special event planned for you,” she continued.
Kimmie turned her face in the direction of Lucy’s voice and gave a sample tug at the restraints.
“It has come to my attention that in order to move forward in her lessons here at SFSU, Kimmie here needs to put some of her fantasies aside. Sometimes, we focus so much on what we haven’t experienced that it’s hard to concentrate on what’s right in front of us.”
Although the lesson was meant for Kimmie and Tucker, Mario felt as though she was addressing him and Clarissa as well. Did he love her more than anything? Yes. Could he have made her feel a bit too taken for granted? Did he always expect her to be there, no matter what? Yes on both accounts.
“On the other side of this marriage is Tucker,” Lucy continued.
The mentioned student grumbled his acknowledgement.
“We’re in a bit of the same situation with Tucker. He’s so stuck trying to get back the relationship they once had that he can’t think about what might be instead. After she was gone for so long, Kimmie is no longer the same woman who left,” Lucy continued. She walked toward Tucker, her hand extended to him. “That woman is gone, and I doubt you’re ever going to see her again. What you have in front of you is a wonderful, new woman, who probably looks a whole lot like the old one.”
He grasped her hand and let her pull him up. Together, they walked toward the cot. Tucker turned to look back at Mario. For moral support? He shooed him on. Tucker might not want to be center stage, but sometimes you had to go a bit outside of your comfort zone.
When they stood in the middle, Lucy held up their hands together, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Clarissa leaned over, her bare leg touching Mario’s, and the heat between them built.
“Don't you get a charge from the energy in the room?” she whispered. “It’s so fucking hot.”
Just being near her was hot enough for him. He could do for a Clarissa Cannoli right about now. Oh, she’d die or kill him if she knew what he was thinking. The old nickname. Boy, she sucked the ricotta out of a cannoli like a pro. As the images in his head went wild, his cock grew hard.
Forget watching them get it on, he had some ideas of his own.
“Do we need to stay here for this?” he asked. “Because I say we sneak out and have a bit of fun ourselves.”
She brought her hand down, mere centimeters from the bulge in his shorts. “You’re playing with fire there,” she said. “No free playtime here. You need to work on your personal restraint a bit. Ms. Lucy would be very displeased if she heard you right now.”
“And I could promise that you’d be very pleased,” he countered.
Chapter Twelve
A warm hand rubbed against his lower back, and Mario startled. Clarissa had left some time ago, and he couldn’t imagine who’d taken her place. He turned and made eye contact with Ms. Lucy. Her smile made his stomach lurch.
“How’d you enjoy the show tonight?” she asked. “See anything you liked?”
The action remained too fresh in his mind. It was impossible not to get instantly hot. Too bad his former fiancée didn’t take him up on the offer to work off some of that extraneous energy.
Averting his eyes, he glanced toward the center of the room, where workers were dismantling the cot. Where had the rekindled lovers taken off to play?
“Good times,” he said, swallowing any other sort-of-snide remark. “I’m always happy to see love work out.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. It was such a small gesture, but Mario felt the weight of her reprimand. “Clarissa tells me you wanted to ditch the show and duck out.”
“Now, did she?” The traitor was nowhere in sight. Why in the world would she tell Lucy something like that? She knew it would get him in trouble, which meant that was her plan all along.
“That was a very naughty thing to do, and you’re lucky she didn’t acquiesce, or you’d both be in a lot more trouble,” Lucy said. “Now, I want you to go into that adjoining room and strip down. We’re going to have a private lesson in etiquette.”
His blood pressure spiked. He couldn’t help it. Even negative attention was good attention. “What about Clarissa? Does she get to sit in on this interrogation? Tell me you don’t believe in tattletales.”
With her green eyes sparkling, Lucy peered down at him. Now he understood the description of someone trembling in their boots! “Don’t try to distract me. We’re not talking about what Clarissa did wrong. Right now I’m focused on you. Now go!” She pointed toward the closed door.
With a grumble, he stalked toward it, feeling a bit too much like Trevor at the moment. Funny how the night had shifted from the other couple being in the spotlight to him coming under Lucy’s watchful eye. He was going to have to talk to Clarissa about her indiscretions. This was turning out to be one wicked love triangle.
The other room seemed downright cold and isolated in comparison to the love fest he’d left moments before. Did she really expect him to take his clothes off? He shrugged. If she said it, she probably meant it, and the last thing he wanted to do at the moment was make her angrier. Perhaps she was going to give him a bit of a treat. He doubted it. It wasn’t Halloween.
Yanking off his shirt, he surveyed the room and decided to fold everything and place it on a chair. Next came the pants. The underwear? For now, he kept them on. It wasn’t much, but it was a layer between him and any unsuspecting visitors who stepped into the room.
For being so chilly outside, the room was pleasantly warm, especially since he was butt-naked. Almost. There wasn’t anywhere comfortable to sit, so he perched on a padded bench, awaiting instructions.
Within a few minutes, Lucy
joined him. An onslaught of noise trembled through the door as she opened it, and got drowned out once she closed it. At least no one would hear him through those soundproof walls.
“Glad you followed some of my instructions,” Lucy said, eyeing him from his bare feet to the top of his head. She gestured toward his boxer briefs. “Now those too, and I see you’ve already found your resting place.”
Standing, Mario did his best to suck it all in and flex other areas. He was keenly aware of the heft of Lucy’s gaze on him. The moment he pushed down his underwear, his cock sprang free. “Hello there, what’s your name?”
“Does he answer you too?” Lucy laughed.
“Not yet. But he does know how to show his gratitude.”
Smack. Lucy slapped her hand against the leather cushion, making Mario jump from the sound alone. “Is anything ever serious to you?” she asked.
If he didn’t laugh, he’d cry, or get angry. He used humor as a way to cope, and he knew he did it. Some people might say he used it as a way to escape reality. This time, Lucy obviously wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“Sure, life’s pretty serious,” he said. “You can either laugh about it or let it beat you down. I prefer to do the former. But I wouldn’t be here, fighting for Clarissa, if I wasn’t serious.”
He stood, completely in the buff, cock erect and saluting the headmistress, and his heart etched on his skin. The thunder of his words beat through his ears. Damn if he was going to back down.
“And that’s why you’re here,” she said. “Now, lay over the front part of that bench. If you want to make that appendage of yours more comfortable, make sure he’s in the appropriate hole.”
Mario approached the side she was talking about. It resembled a picnic bench one found in any park, except this one was painted black and used for much kinkier activities. It came up to about his knees, and he leaned over the cushioned top, taking a moment to look down and find a comfortable position for his cock. Part of him was nervous about what was about to happen, but honestly most of him was exhilarated in anticipation.
He’d never been dominated by a woman before. Sure, he had plenty of respect for women, and would give Clarissa just about anything she wanted, or that he could do for her, but in his family, the man was the boss of the household. The woman did the man’s bidding. When Lucy told him to do something, though, he obeyed, and he questioned his antics.
Had he always wanted this? Was he really only trying to please Clarissa, or was he finding out new information about himself?
Lucy rubbed up behind him. The cool of her outfit soothed his heated skin. They hadn’t even gotten started, and he felt as if he were on fire. She trailed her hand up his side to his wrist and bound him to the board—just as he’d seen happen to Kimmie. Thankfully, no one was here to witness his reprimanding. She pulled his left hand to the other side and separated his legs.
“Just so you don’t think you’ll be able to get away from me,” she explained. From behind, she cupped his balls, and he sucked in a breath, but there was nowhere, really, to go. She moved to the side of him. He noticed she was barefoot. He thought that was a bit bizarre, and she held up a blindfold. “These tend to help newcomers. Do you agree?”
“Yes,” he said. No turning back now. What would happen if he said no? The muscles in his stomach grew taut as he anticipated her next move.
“Anyone ever tell you that you have a fine-looking ass? Perfect for spanking.” As she talked, Ms. Lucy caressed the curve of his ass, paying special attention to the crease before the thigh.
He suppressed a snide remark. In the position he currently was in, it probably wasn’t the best idea to piss her off even more. “Can’t say I’ve been told that before.”
“That’s too bad, but I’m kind of glad,” she said.
The absence of her touch worried him more than the opposite. At least when her hand was on him, he knew her whereabouts. Through the blindfold, he saw nothing, and he strained to hear her movements.
Warm breath brushed against his neck, his ear. “I’m glad, because I’m going to enjoy taking your spanking virginity.”
Stomach down, he lay strapped to a bench. It tilted up in the middle, jutting his bottom out a bit. The most disturbing and embarrassing part of the setup was his cock. It hung through a cutout. Although he couldn’t see where it was, he felt the colder air. For all he knew, it could be some type of abyss. Talk about free-balling.
“Now, before we get started, I’m going to open the sliding wall, and all your classmates are going to be able to watch this demonstration.” The admission possessed more than a hint of humor.
Nerves tightened within his body, and he strained against the constraints. “What? You didn’t say anything about being on display.” The thought of his humiliation being public added another level to the punishment. Alone with Ms. Lucy, he might be able to handle it. It was her vs. him. This way, he’d have to worry about what everyone else thought of him. He couldn’t do it.
“I never said one way or another. I promise you, after the first few strokes, you won’t even remember anyone else is there. And being blindfolded, you won’t be able to see them anyway. I didn’t have to tell you. But it adds to the pleasure a bit, wouldn’t you say?”
Pleasure? Maybe hers, but certainly not this. “I can’t do this,” he hissed.
“You are doing it. Of course, you can always throw out your safeword, but then everyone will know you chickened out. You might as well give in and go home then.”
Did she really just call him a chicken? No way could he back down now, and she knew that. His machismo was on the line. “Give it your best shot.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will.”
Everything grew quiet, and then there was a light sliding noise. A minute later, he heard a hushed collective “Oohhh.” He cursed her taking off her boots. At least that way, he’d be able to hear the click-clack. Barefooted, he couldn’t track her.
Whack. Something smacked his left ass cheek, and he jerked in surprise. Whack. The right.
It wasn’t that bad. He didn’t know…whack…what he’d been so afraid… whack…of. As the spanking continued, the pain threshold decreased. His ass burned. He swore she had a map of his flesh laid out and she was determined to traverse every inch. She paid special attention to hit sit spots in the crease of his thigh and buttocks. The area strung. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he blinked behind the material.
“Now that you’re warmed up, why don’t we take this to the next level?” Lucy said.
Fuck. Warmed up? He thought she was about done.
A cracking broke the silence, and he heard the audio feedback from a microphone. “Class, you can see how nice and red his cheeks are right now. It’s time to change it up, and keep the participant guessing. Next, I’ll bring out a wooden paddle, which will exponentially increase the stimulation.”
Wooden paddle? Stimulation? Cool hands soothed his hot skin, and he prayed for Clarissa to return to “distract” him again. He imagined her underneath the table and doing some administering of her own to his cock. At the fantasies, he hardened, thickening. Under the bench, it thudded against something. Maybe the underside of the table?
A murmur from the crowd told him they noticed his arousal too. The thought of all those eyes upon him upped the anticipation ante.
Smack, smack, smack. Smack, smack, smack. In quick succession, she rained blows down in threes on one side and then the other. His ass felt as if it were on fire, and if he could move, he would have.
Before long, each smack drew out a groan from him. Ms. Lucy paused to instruct. “See how the pink has turned to a rich red? Since this is the subject’s first time experiencing discipline in this manner, it would be best to stop. We wouldn’t want to mar his tender flesh too much. As it is, he’s going to be uncomfortable sitting in the hard wooden classroom chairs for a few days… or anywhere in that case.”
It was over. He’d survived. He took a deep breath
, slowing down his heart rate and trying to follow some of those Zen exercises from Yvette’s class. Yes, it seemed touchy-feely at the time, but right now he needed them.
“Now any questions for either me or the subject?” Lucy asked.
He prayed no one asked anything. He didn’t need to talk, hearing the sound of his voice crack.
“Yes, Cole, what do you want to know?” Lucy asked.
Damn, of course someone had to ask a question.
“What did he do to deserve such special treatment?” a man asked. “He had to have been an ass.”
Fucker.
“Good question,” Lucy said. “Without getting too personal, let’s say he was trying to cheat the system and skip out for personal satisfaction.”
Personal satisfaction. Damn, he wanted to come, and he wanted to come badly. He didn’t know how Lucy or anyone else did it. Delayed gratification was bullshit. Right now, it felt as if his cock were going to downright weep for want of release. He needed more than the spanking, though. Give him a little bit of stimulation, and he’d go flying over the edge.
But she probably had that figured out by now too.
When no one asked anything else, he figured they were done for the night.
“Thank you for sticking around for the encore,” Lucy said. “You’re all dismissed now. Rest up, and we’ll see you back at the regular schedule tomorrow.”
The sound of the wall sliding back into place should have comforted Mario, but he didn’t know what was coming next. An onslaught of bright light assaulted his eyes, and he blinked against the sting.
“Hello, handsome, how’d you do?” Lucy asked before moving to release his arms and legs.
When he’d been bound, he didn’t realize how stiff he’d been holding his body. Mario rolled his shoulders and stretched out his legs. “I’ll never think you’re more bark than bite ever again,” he said. He rubbed his palms over his ass, not getting any sort of coolness or relief.