Disciplinary Action

"That doesn't bother you?"

"What?"

"Your boyfriend going off with another girl."

"Oh." I shrugged. "Kurt isn't my boyfriend. He's my room mate, and a good friend."

"Oh. I thought... He just seems pretty familiar."

"If you want to talk about Kurt's dating habits, Langely, I'll see if I can set you up with him. It wouldn't be too hard. He thinks you're cute." I'd never dared speak so boldly to him before. I'd matched him, yes. My pride wouldn't let me back down too far, but my mama's drills in courtesy had kept me from retaliating.

Some of the color returned to his face in a blush. "Let's go to my office."

The corridors were already deserted, and our footsteps echoed hollowly as we paced the hall. There weren't even any cleaning staff in evidence. Once in his office, Langely sat in the straight backed chair instead of going behind the barricade of his desk.

I settled myself on the love seat, and waited for him to speak. At last he said, "He's too young for you."

"I'm not all that ancient."

"That wasn't what I meant. Not that you're too old, he's too young. You need a man, not a boy."

I laughed. "Are you serious? Kurt says you watched him operate on one of his videos. He's probably a double Y chromosome. Now, why don't you tell me what you really want to talk about?"

He took a breath. "Saturday night."

I nodded. "How's your jaw?"

"Oh." He touched it gingerly. "Fine. I bit the inside of my mouth good, and it bled."

"Poor baby." The yearning in his expression shocked me. "Okay. Saturday night."

"I... I go to that store sometimes. Always late. It's not close to home, but there's always the chance that someone I know might see me. This,uh... my interests... They're not illegal, you understand."

I nodded. "Kurt's been telling me all about it. Consenting adults, and all that"

"Like I said, they're not illegal. But they're not exactly...what an institution would be comfortable with."

I used Kurt's terms. "The Mundanes just wouldn't understand."

He nodded. "If word reached the wrong people there could be trouble for me."

"So you're worried that I'm going to rat on you. You disappoint me." My voice was cold.

He drooped. "I didn't mean to."

"Really, Langely, you think I'd go scurrying to tell all your dark little secrets?" I raised my voice. "Do you honestly think that I'm that petty? If I wanted to destroy you, I wouldn't go about it in such a sneaky fashion."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. You've behaved abominably Why have you been so bad, Thomas?" I said the last two words softly. It was the first time I'd used his given name.

He swallowed. "You... you don't like me. So many times you just look right through me, like I'm not here. I wanted to make you see me. Think about me."

"I think about you."

He had been looking at the floor. Now his eyes flashed to my face. "You do?"

"Yes. I think about you quite a bit. I wonder why such a pretty man has to act so ugly. It shouldn't be allowed. I really ought to take you in hand and teach you some manners."

Thomas Langely transformed. The sorrow melted out of his eyes, and the nervousness melted into eagerness. There was a tremulous anticipation about him. "Who told you that you were allowed to look at my face?"

He dropped his eyes immediately, and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"That's a start, but it's not a proper answer. Kurt told me you've done this before. Would Mademoiselle Sacristy have allowed you to answer like that?"

"No, ma'am. What would you like me to call you?"

"Just be respectful, boy."

"Yes, Miss Emily."

"Go lock the door."

He sprang up and hurried to obey. Then he stood there, facing away, as if suddenly abashed. "Now come sit by me."

Thomas came back and sat beside me on the love seat, near the end, not touching. He looked straight ahead, his back very straight and his hands in his lap.

"Not so far away. Closer."

He moved a few inches toward me. "Don't be shy with me." I patted the cushion right beside me. He slid over and sat, almost touching me, still looking away.

I just studied him, drinking in the details. I'd never really examined him closely. One didn't do that in public, it was rude. But now I felt free to...

What? Possibilities, as Kurt had said. Study, touch, stroke, kiss, feel, taste, punish... How far did I dare go? Because I found myself almost breathless with excitement. At last I said quietly, "What's the good word, Thomas?"

"Ma'am?"

"What--is--the--good--word."

Eyes up to my face, then down quickly. "Whatever you want it to be, ma’am."

I thought. "Crystal."

"Crystal." He said the word slowly, as if tasting it.

"Crystal," I agreed. I reached over and touched his hair, running my fingers through the silky golden strands in a leisurely fashion. So soft, almost baby fine. I mussed it, stirring up the neat lines, dropping tresses across his forehead, into his eyes. When I stopped, he reached up to smooth them back into place.

"Did I give you permission to do that?" I made my voice hard, and he froze. His hand dropped.

"No ma'am. Beg pardon, ma'am."

I pushed his hair up. "If I want that done, I'll tell you, or I'll do it."

"Yes, ma'am."

I stroked his hair again, pushing my fingers deep into it's softness, sliding my hand around to the back of his head. Then I gripped, hard. He gasped at the sudden pain. "What should I do with you, Thomas? Hmm?" I shook his head, and he winced. "Give me a suggestion."

"Forgive me?"

Another hard shake. "Maybe later, but you know what I mean."

"I... I guess you should... whip me, Miss Emily."

I nodded. "Yes, I think that would be appropriate. A few licks should teach you to behave better. Now, what should I whip you with?"

It was an old method of discipline. Not gentle, but effective. The get your own switchtactic. "Your hand?" he suggested.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not sure I could sting enough for this with my bare hands, and I won't use my fists on you. That's beating, not discipline. What else could I use?"

"I could give you my belt."

"That's better, but it still doesn't feel quite right. Let me think..." My eyes roved around the room. There were some craft supplies on a shelf behind the desk. I went over to examine them.

"Ah. Here we are. I believe this is the very thing. Very appropriate, since you did most of your misbehaving in the classroom."

I picked up a metal ruler. It was more flexible than a wooden one, but stronger. It wasn't going to snap if...vigorously used. When I turned back, Thomas had a half dismayed, half intrigued expression on his face. "What's wrong, Thomas? You don't approve of my choice?" My tone was dangerously quiet.

"No ma'am. I mean yes ma'am. It's just that I've never been spanked with one of those before. It looks like it would hurt."

"Well, that's the whole point, isn't it? Stand up and come over here."

He came to stand in front of me. I tapped him lightly on the chest with the ruler. "I'm going to let you decide your punishment, Thomas. Before you answer me, I want you to think carefully. If you ask for too few licks, I'm going to give you at least triple that, maybe more if I think you're playing with me. Now. How many licks do you deserve?"

He was sweating a little. At last he said, "Ten..." hastily, "Fifteen."

I nodded, and his shoulders slumped in relief. "Actually, I was thinking of fifteen. I'm glad to see you really want to do the right thing. Take off your jacket." He obeyed. I took it and tossed it across the chair. "And your tie." He unknotted it, and it joined his jacket. "Now, drop your pants."

Hands shaking, he opened his belt, undid his button and fly, and lowered his pants. "Kick them off, boy. If you trip on them, you could bash your brains out."

He stepped out of the pants. I picked them up, listening to the jingle of keys and coins in the pockets. I stripped the belt from it's loops, folded them neatly, and laid them aside.

He was looking at the belt. "I thought..."

"Thomas, you talk again before I say you can, and I'm going to pop some roses into your cheeks. Now, hold out your hands." He did. "Together, idiot child, together." I cinched the belt around his wrists. "Step up to the desk."

He obeyed. I went behind the desk and pulled out the top drawer, removing it and setting it aside. Then I took the buckle end of the belt and pulled. Langely had to bend over, following the belt. I wrapped the buckle end around the exposed brace that the drawer had rested on, tying it tightly. When I was through, Langely was lying across his desk face down, bound arms extended before him.

I walked back behind him, examining his position. I bent down and removed his shoes and socks, to enhance the aesthetic effect. That left him in his shirt and jockeys, bent at the waist across his desk. His feet rested flat on the floor, but just barely.

I lifted his shirt tail up, tucking it away to give a clear view. "Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"Ma'am? Could I keep my shorts up, please?"

"That would kind of defeat the purpose wouldn't it? I tell you what, Tommy. We'll compromise." I rolled the back of his shorts down, pulling the stretchy material below the curve of his ass. The waistband pulled down some in front, but didn't expose him.

His ass cheeks were very pale. No nude sunbathing for this boy. I touched him experimentally, and he shivered. The skin was as satiny smooth as that on my own ass.

"Once this whipping is done, Tommy, you're square for all the shit you did before tonight. We won't bring it up again. I want you to count the strokes for me. You can talk, if you need to."

"Thank you, ma'am."

I whipped the metal ruler across his ass. It made a flat, popping sound. Immediately a pink flush appeared. He shivered and said, "One." Smack. "Two." Smack. "Three." The flesh was reddening, shading from pink to rose. I spaced the blows evenly, not staying to one area. Smack. "Four." His voice was becoming strained. I put a little more weight behind my swing, and he gasped as the next one landed. "Five! That hurts."

"It's supposed to." Smack.

"Six. It really stings."

"Good." Even more power to the blow.

The pop was more like a crack, and he cried out quietly. "Seven. I'm sorry, Miss Emmie."

Crack. He dropped his head to the desk. "Oh, damn!" There were dark red stripes on his ass now. I was surprised at how quickly they had arisen. The skin was starting to look raw. This was going to be really painful, if it went all the way.

I hesitated, waiting to see if he wanted to stop it. Literally all he had to do was say the word. I listened to his rapid breathing, but when he spoke at last, he said, "Eight. I deserve this."

He was enjoying it. I marveled, and swung the ruler as hard as I could. It was like a muted gunshot in the tiny office. Langely's body jerked, and I saw his hands twisting in the binding belt. "Nine. Yes, nine." I made the ruler hiss as it sliced through the air. He jerked again, wailing, "Ten! Lord, Jesus, lord, it's so good!"

I couldn't believe that I was causing such a strong reaction in cool, collected Thomas Langely. I suddenly realized that my panties were damp. I had been so intent on what Thomas was feeling that I'd hardly noticed my own arousal.

I drew back and swung hard, twice in rapid succession. Langely jolted with a scream. It was a good thing that the building was deserted by now. "Eleven, twelve! I can't take it! It hurts too much, Miss Emmie."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Yes, please. Please don't hurt me anymore."

Again I hesitated. Did he mean it? He sounded as if he did. There was one way to be sure. "What do you say, Tommy? What do you say to make me stop punishing you?"

I waited for it, I waited for crystal.

"Please stop hurting me, Miss Emmie. Please, I'll be good." His hips were undulating as he spoke. "I'll be so good, I promise." He humped against the hard surface of the desk, begging for the mercy he didn't want.

I watched the flex of his whipped, reddened buttock, feeling my insides bubble and seethe. I drew back, gritting my teeth, and gave Thomas what he really wanted. I slammed him with three rapid blows that would leave my arm stiff and sore the next day.

He screamed as each one landed, trying to crawl up on the desk, out of reach of the pain. As I threw the ruler down, he was sobbing. "Finish the count, Tommy. Finish the count, and it's over." He just whimpered. I stroked his back gently. "Go on."

He sniffed. "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Thank you, Miss Emmie."

"You're welcome." I petted his back some more, soothing him. "You were very brave, Tommy. You took your punishment like a man. It's all over now."

He continued weeping. "What's wrong?"

"It's all over."

"Yes, I'm not going to hit you any more."

"It's all over."

Understanding dawned. "Turn over, Tommy."

He pulled weakly at his bonds. "Can't."

"Yes, you can. Try."

He rose on tiptoe, and managed to get enough slack to twist. I think he came close to dislocating his shoulder, but he got onto his back. But in this position, his back arched, and he couldn't put his weight on his feet.

The jockey shorts were still up in front, though the waistband had been dragged down almost to his pubic line. And the tight cotton knit strained over the outline of a rock hard erection. It wasn't over, not for Thomas Langely. He was hovering agonizingly close to the peak, and he couldn't step over.

"Oh, I see." I reached out and laid one fingertip against the bulge. His hips arched upward, but I pulled my hand back. "Tommy, did I do that to you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well, I need to see this." I skinned his jockeys off, leaving him naked from the waist down, arched over the edge of the desk. His cock stuck almost straight up, despite it's weight. I was surprised again. He was hung at least as well as Kurt. In fact, I think he was a little thicker. "Oh, my. Tommy, just look at that. You've go a mother of a hard on there." Again I brushed the heated flesh with a fingertip, and again he arched toward my touch.

"Please."

"I've always heard that guys are really miserable if they get teased, then can't get off. Is that true?"

"Please, Miss Emmie. Please."

"What do you want, Tommy? Tell mama."

"I want to come. Please let me come."

"Tell mama what you want her to do for you, Tommy."

"Touch me, please. Just touch me."

I smiled at him gently. "Oh, I think I can do better than that." I leaned over and took his cock into my mouth, sinking down onto it smoothly, taking in as much in one gulp as I could.

He cried out wildly, bucking upward into the heat of my mouth. I met him, forcing myself down even farther on his shaft It's a peculiar thing about me. I used to have friends who got out of school by sticking a finger down their throat, making themselves gag, and throwing up. I'd never been able to do that. I just don't seem to have a gag reflex. I'd never thought that might be an asset, but Tommy seemed to appreciate it. Very much.

I sucked hard, bobbing my head to slide up and down his length, and he came. His body vibrated as his spunk shot out, and he made incoherent, animal noises. Then he went limp.

I let his softening member slip out of my mouth, grabbed a wad of tissues from a box on a shelf, and spat his sperm into it. I got more Kleenex and wiped my mouth, then discarded them.

Thomas Langley lay on his back across the desk, arms bound over his head, gazing up into the overhead flourescent lights with a glazed expression of satiation.

I managed to pick the knot in the belt loose, and released his hands. He slid down bonelessly, landing with a thump in front of the desk. He yowled when his raw buttocks hit the carpet.

I took another handful of tissues and went to sit beside him. He regarded me blankly for a moment, still caught up in his post climax daze. Then he smiled at me beatifically. I began to gently clean his sticky cock. He watched my actions. His voice was clear and almost childlike when he spoke. "You're taking care of me."

"Yes."

"I like that. I... I've wanted someone to take care of me for such a long time. Even for just a little while."

"Langely... You're pretty fucked up. You know that, don't you?"

Thomas stretched, wincing as his aching butt flexed. But his expression was lazy and contented. "I suppose so, but you were the one swinging the ruler."