Page 16 of Disciplinary Action
The boy’s whole body seemed to sag with relief. “Yes, Daddy.”
Gideon grabbed the boy’s loosened tie, turning it so he could slip it into the boy’s mouth before tightening it. It wouldn’t quiet the boy if he chose to cry out, but it would remind him that Gideon had given him an order. He briefly considered retrieving the paddle from the wall but he needed to feel the boy’s skin beneath his hand, wanted to see his palm prints on his rounded backside.
When the boy’s pants fell to his ankles and his underwear was shoved to mid-thigh, Gideon realized the boy was still healing. There were various discolorations along his skin—finger marks where Gideon had held him in place while he’d slammed his cock into him, faint handprint shaped bruises where Gideon had punished him all those nights ago.
It occurred to him then to ask, “Have you eaten? Taken your meds? Checked your blood sugar?”
Callum turned toward him. “What?”
“You heard me. I won’t have you slipping into a coma or a seizure on me. Have you?”
Cal nodded. “Yes. I’m good. I promise.”
Gideon trailed his fingers along Cal’s bruises, pressing his fingers against them until the boy whined. Gideon let his finger slide between the globes of Cal’s bottom. “So fucking desperate for it,” he murmured against his ear, bringing his hand down hard enough to rip the air from Cal’s lungs. “Oh, did that hurt, brat?”
Cal just whimpered, his whole body shaking. Gideon wasn’t angry but he showed no mercy, spanking the boy again and again. He wondered if Abernathy could hear the sound of skin on skin. Did she smile thinking Gideon was doling out the much lauded corporal punishment Roosevelt was known for? Cal wasn’t smiling, not anymore. His creamy skin was now a mixture of pink and purple and yellow. Welts formed in the shape of his hand each time another blow landed until Cal began to flinch away from his hand. Tears and snot stained the boy’s face, saliva slick on his pouty red lips. Gideon forced Cal’s face to the desk so he couldn’t escape, giving him two more solid blows. “Remember, brat, you wanted this. You begged for it. Demanded it even.”
Gideon spit on two fingers, forcing them inside the boy, fucking them into him mercilessly until Cal whined. Gideon yanked him back up against him, the pads of his fingers pressing up against the boy’s prostate, massaging it hard enough to make Cal’s knees give out. “Stand up,” Gideon growled, refusing to show him even the slightest reprieve. His boy needed to know, needed to understand what he’d done. Once Cal had his feet under him, Gideon wrapped his hand around the boy’s hard, leaking cock, jerking him, knowing the friction had to be painful. “Don’t you dare come.”
Cal sobbed, any pretense of superiority washed away in a flow of tears and sweat. Every muscle tensed. Gideon listened to the sound of the boy’s breathing, working him from both sides until he seemed to lose control of his ability to stay quiet. He was whimpering, whining, whispering words that Gideon couldn’t make out.
“Did you think you could threaten me? Walk intomyoffice and make demands? I was never going to kick you out. Do you think I allow others to control me?” Gideon slipped his fingers from the boy’s body and dropped his hand from his straining cock. “You don’t get to come. You haven’t earned that. Six weeks. Just six weeks. Then we’re done. Get on your knees.”
The boy dropped like a stone, his hands reaching for Gideon’s pants.
“Did I say you could touch me?” Gideon freed his cock, slipping the tie from the boy’s mouth, noting the imprint on his cheeks from the tightened fabric. “Open your mouth.”
Cal did as Gideon commanded, staring up at him with tears on his inky black lashes. He pushed his cock between the boy’s lips, forcing it deep enough for him to gag, before giving him a slight reprieve. He gripped the boy’s hair, fucking into his mouth with short, shallow thrusts. Cal began to bob his head, attempting to take Gideon deeper with each pass. Gideon bit back a groan as the boy sucked at the head of his cock, his tongue teasing at the notch just underneath.
“Fuck,” Gideon muttered, pulling his cock free. “Stick out your tongue.” Cal complied, pupils blown, wincing as Gideon gripped his hair with one hand and jerked his own thick, leaking cock with the other. It only took a few hard pulls and then Gideon was painting his release over the boy’s lips and tongue. “Say ‘thank you, Daddy,’” he growled, rubbing his spent cock over the boy’s face.
“Thank you, Daddy,” Cal said, breathless.
He used the boy’s tie to drag him to his feet and kiss him deep, his tongue thrusting into his mouth to taste his cum on his tongue. “Pull yourself together and get back to class.”
He left the boy half dressed and shaking, walking around to take his seat at the desk. He leaned back to watch as Cal righted his clothing and wiped his face with trembling hands, using the wall mirror to try to make himself look less…defiled. His hand was on the door knob to leave when Gideon called out, “Callum.”
“Yes…Mr. Gideon?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Don’t ever, ever think you make the rules. I don’t need this job. I don’t need any job. If I never worked another day in my life, I’d still have enough money to buy this school ten times over. You’d do well to remember that.”
The look of sorrow on the boy’s face almost made Gideon feel bad. Almost. Cal had wanted this side of Gideon…but more importantly, he needed it.
The smell of Italian sausage, garlic, and rosemary wafted up the staircase to Bastian’s room, making Cal’s stomach growl. He hadn’t eaten all day and had hoped dinner would be something heavy on protein and light on carbs, but Bastian’s mom was making baked ziti and garlic bread. His brain told him he couldn’t, under any circumstances, eat something so heavy, but his stomach said otherwise. He was just so fucking hungry. He grabbed his kit from his backpack. Maybe his glucose wouldn’t be so bad, just this once.
Cal winced as he dropped into Bastian’s desk chair, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he remembered everything that had happened in Gideon’s office. It wasn’t the first time those thoughts had flashed through his head. Hell, it might have even been the hundredth. His skin burned where Gideon had spanked him, and his ass ached where Gideon had fucked into him with his fingers. It had been raw and primal and like nothing Cal had ever experienced before in his life. And every time he’d sat down, the ache had reminded him, had brought it all back vividly, giving him a hard-on several times throughout the day. He hadn’t even been mad about Gideon leaving him hard. He wanted to experience it again.
“You gonna just sit there at the desk with that dopey smile on your face, or are you going to explain to me what exactly our new headmaster did to put it there?”
Cal glanced over to where Bastian sat on the bare hardwood floor, Cal’s PS4 controller in his hand. It was one of the few things he’d managed to take with him that the government hadn’t seized when they’d raided his house. He had taken it for granted back then, but seeing Bastian and his sisters playing with it made him happy now. It was the very least he could do for them.
Cal unzipped the kit that held his test strips and blood sugar meter, swiping his finger with alcohol before he pricked his finger. He winced at the number that flashed across the screen. He was going to have to find an excuse to not eat again tonight. Maybe he could find a way to eat the meat and cheese without the pasta? He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. There was no way to do that and not offend Bastian’s mom.
Food was a constant problem for Cal—yet another thing he’d taken for granted just a few short months ago. He’d gone from chef prepared meals and an unlimited supply of fresh vegetables to living off of the kindness of others, specifically Bastian’s mom, Renata. Most of Renata’s meals were pasta based, and pasta was terrible for his blood sugar, especially now that he was forced to ration his insulin.
“Dinner’s in ten minutes, boys,” Renata called from the bottom of the staircase. “Gia and Paola, you’re on kitchen duty. Get down here and set the table.”
Two sets of groans came from the bedroom next door, and then footsteps pounded down the stairs as two of Bastian’s little sisters went to do as their mother commanded.
