Page 247 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

A big boner. One that bulges out of my tight-fitting black jeans and is obvious for anyone to see.

"Calm the hell down." I shoot myself an evil look in my mirror. "Hilton's spanking you to work the nerves out of your system. This will help you become the best employee you can be—it's not sexual."

Closing my eyes, I let out a groan as the fantasies from the previous week flurry through my mind. Ever since Hilton proposed this arrangement, I've been wondering what it'd be like.

I picture entering his house, immediately stripping out of my clothes, and climbing on his lap.

I was spanked as a boy growing up. When I got a C in school or crossed the street without looking both ways, my father would take me over his lap and smack my ass.

Sometimes he used his cane, which made me feel things I didn't anticipate.

I picture Hilton doing everything my father did… and more. I want to spread across his lap, push my ass in the air, and let him teach me to be a good boy.

I've been very bad at work, very naughty, pushing clients away left and right. I'm costing my boss hundreds of thousands of dollars in lost revenue, meaning I definitely need lessons on how to be a good employee.

A shudder of passion shoots up my spine. I bring my hand to my cock, then grind my hips into it. I don't even need to slip my hand beneath my jeans to know I'm emitting.

"Oh God." Another groan escapes me as I palm my forehead, then wriggle in my car seat. "I can't walk into his house hard. He'll think I'm a freak."

Unfortunately, this is true. Nothing about this arrangement is sexual… at least not according to what he told me in his office. It's to help me overcome my social anxiety, nothing more, nothing less.

The fantasies I've been having, such as the naughty dreams that plague me the second I close my eyes in bed, are just that—fantasies.

Sure, he'll bring his thick, meaty palm to my cheeks and light me up inside. I might even come on his lap and shoot strings of my release between his legs.

That doesn't mean it's sexual in nature. For Christ's sake, if he were only doing this to get me off, it'd be an HR nightmare.

My watch beeps. Tucking my cock into my waistband so no one will see, I exit my vehicle, which I'm grateful as fuck hasn't squirted oil this past week. I lock the door, then head up the walkway to Hilton's house.

He has a beautiful home. Blue hydrangeas sit around the brick exterior, reflecting the pale sunlight. A tall oak tree shivers in the wind, sending leaves to the ground. Koi fish swim in a pool to my left, nibbling on bits of algae. A bluebird soars past my head before landing in the oak tree, presumably where it's made its home.

Raising a trembling finger, I ring Hilton's doorbell.

Ding.

A moment later, the sound of firm feet on hardwood reaches my ears. The door swings open, and Hilton greets me.

"Took you long enough." Hilton lets out a growl as he taps his wristwatch. "I can't say this is promising. You're already failing to show up on time."

My cheeks flush. "Sorry for the delay. I was psyching myself up in my car."

"I'm only messing with you. Come in, Daniel. Are you excited for your first lesson?"

I take off my shoes and then follow him into the kitchen where he hands me a beer. I take a much-needed sip, then set it on his center island.

"Nervous more than excited." I can't help but be honest. "I've… been thinking about this all week."

"This arrangement is to assist you with your nerves. Not to contribute to them."

"I know." I issue Hilton a curt nod. "It's just that… I've never been spanked before."

Hilton's eyes flicker. "A pretty boy like you? I find that hard to believe."

A burning sensation fills my insides. "Well, that's not totally true. My father sometimes did it when I was a kid, but that's it."

"Are you gay, Daniel?"

"Yes."

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