Chapter 10

I locked my dorm door, the room messy with the mess I had made earlier before I left. I dropped my bag and grabbed my second journal. The real one was still missing, but this would do. My hands shook as I flipped it open, my pen ready.

The words flowed fast and dirty, building that scene in my head where Wyatt's question wasn't about grades. It was about us, him hurting me just right and making me beg for more. And here it goes;

I sat at my desk in the empty classroom after hours, the lights were dim and the only glow was from the window lighting up Wyatt's face. He stood over me, his black pants stretched tight over his thick thighs, that white shirt he normally wore unbuttoned at the collar, showing a hint of his chest hair. His blue eyes burned into mine, full of that anger from earlier, but it has now changed into something hungry.

“You love pain, don't you, Jonathan?” he growled, stepping closer to me, his hand grabbing my chin hard, forcing me to look up. His fingers dug into it, bruising my skin, and I gasped, the sting shooting straight to my cock. It throbbed in my jeans, already leaking pre-cum from the way he loomed over me.

“No, sir.” I whispered, but my voice cracked, giving me away but I did love it, I loved the roughness and the control. In this fantasy, I wasn't hiding anymore.

He laughed, and it sounded low and mean as he released my chin only to slap my cheek lightly, the smack echoing in the classroom.. “Liar. I see it in your eyes every class. You stare at me like you want me to break you.”

His other hand slid down, grabbing my throat, squeezing it just enough to make my breath hitch. I leaned into it, my body on fire and my ass clenching at the thought of what would come next.

“Please.” I begged, hating how desperate I sounded, but needing it. “I want to be good for you.”

Wyatt's sneer deepened, and he shoved me back against the desk, my ass hitting the edge hard. Pain flared in my hips but it felt good, making me moan. He yanked my shirt open, my buttons popping everywhere, his rough palms scraping over my chest, pinching my nipples until I yelped.

“Good? You'll earn it by taking what I give.”

He spun me around, my face down on the wood and my cheek pressed cold against the surface. My pants were next and he ripped them down, exposing my ass, the air cool on my skin. I heard his belt buckle clink, then the whoosh sound as he pulled it free. My heart raced and my cock dripped onto the floor as I braced for what would come next.

The first lash hit my back, the leather biting into my flesh causing a pain that made me cry out.

“Count them,” he ordered.

“One.” I gasped, my body shaking. Another lash hit me across my thighs. “Two.”

Each strike built the burn, my skin raw, but my cock stayed rock hard, pulsing with every hit. Wyatt didn't hold back and was alternating between my ass and back, the pain blooming deep and making tears prick my eyes. By ten, I was sobbing, but not from hurt but from the twisted pleasure twisting in my gut.

“Do you love it?” he demanded, dropping the belt, his hands spreading my cheeks wide.

“Yes, sir! Fuck, yes!” I pushed back, desperate for more.

He chuckled darkly, and I felt his fingers, two of them, rough and dry shove into my hole. There was no lube, just the burn of stretch, tearing a scream from my throat. He fucked them in and out, hard, scissoring to open me up, the pain sharp.

“This is your pain, boy. The kind you crave when you don’t follow my time frame for submissions.”

I nodded into the desk, drool pooling under my mouth. “Punish me, Professor Rooke.” Using his full name like that sounded formal and filthy and it made it hotter, the taboo of it all, a student begging his teacher to wreck him.

He added a third finger, twisting my hole brutally, my ass clenching around the invasion. It hurt so good with my walls burning, but I rocked back, taking it. His free hand came down, spanking my cheeks till it turned red, each slap jolting his fingers deeper.

“You're mine to hurt.” he grunted, leaning over me, his clothed cock grinding against my thigh, hard as steel.

“Yes, I am yours,” I moaned, the words slurring as pain and need blurred together in my head. He pulled his fingers out suddenly, leaving me empty and aching, then I heard his zipper. His cock sprang free, heavy and thick, the head smacking my ass cheek wet with pre-cum.

With no warning, he slammed into me, bare and raw, splitting me open. The pain was white-hot, a scream ripping from my lungs as he buried inside me to the hilt, his balls slapping my skin.

“Take it all.” he snarled, pulling back only to thrust harder, pounding my ass like he owned it.

Each drive stretched me wider, the friction burning and my hole gripping him tight. I clawed at the desk, my body jolting with every brutal snap of his hips.

“It hurts so good.”: I whimpered, tears streaming down my cheeks but I pushed back, meeting him and craving the ache.

Wyatt grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, arching me painfully. “Say my name! Beg for the pain!”

“Professor Rooke, please, hurt me more! The formality made it wrong, him as my teacher destroying me.

He slapped my ass again, the sting running down my legs, then reached around to grip my cock, squeezing it hard at the base, my legs shaking from how good it felt.

“You can’t come yet. You cum when I say.” His strokes turned punishing with his hips slamming into me and his cock dragging over that spot inside that mixed pain with sparks of pleasure. I sobbed, my body on edge and the hurt pushed me higher.

But it wasn't just him because soon enough, Bryce joined. The door creaked open, and there he was, Professor Lockhart, his black pants hugging his muscular legs and his coat slung over his arm. His eyes darkened at the sight, his cock tenting his zipper.

“Wyatt, you started without me?” Bryce's voice was smooth and deep as he stepped closer. He dropped his coat immediately, his hands undoing his belt.

“He's been bad.” Wyatt grunted, not slowing down, his cock moving in and out of my ass, slick now with my sweat. “He needs the both of us to teach him pain.”

Bryce smirked, rounding the desk to my face. He freed his thick cock and slapped it against my lips. “Open up, Jonathan. Suck while he fucks you.”

I did, my mouth stretching wide around his head and my tongue swirling the salty pre-cum. He thrust in, gagging me, his balls hitting my chin as he face-fucked me roughly.