Chapter 1: Cor/Reader
Cor stands up and comes around his desk, eyes sharp and icy as he surveys your face, your posture, your demeanor. Your anticipation spikes as he speaks. “Don’t you think we should discuss your insubordination?” he demands. “I gave you a warning last time and you didn’t learn, did you?
Your eyes shift nervously. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he orders, seizing your chin roughly and forcing you to meet his glare. His face is close enough for you to see his pupils expand subtly. His voice drops slightly in register “This time you’ve earned yourself a corrective measure. Now I’ve got something in mind but I want to hear what you think you deserve.” He gives you a few seconds to think before adding, “And believe me, if I don’t think it measures up to how you fucked up, I’ll just make mine that much worse.”
“Promise?” You ask, purposely provocative and knowing he means business. He glowers, warning. You’re stepping on thin ice and you know it. You stand there, trying to decide on a response. Should you go with sincere, but not quite enough? Or blatantly insufficient?
Another thought crosses your mind. You think it might work but you wonder if you’re daring enough to make a counter offer.
“Well?” He demands impatiently. “I don’t have all day.”
You make your choice and step off that cliff. Opening your mouth, you speak, no backing down now.
“Excuse me?” He retorts sharply after you’ve made your suggestion. His voice is angry but you catch sight of a different sort of heat in his eyes.
“I didn’t stutter,” you reply, gauging his reaction. You’re taking a risk and you don’t want to take it too far. His eyes fly open wide for about a half a second as the words come out.
“Do you really think,” he starts in a threatening growl,”that spanking is sufficient punishment for your lack of respect?
You roll your eyes towards the ceiling as if thinking. “Probably not. Um, but you said if it wasn’t you’d make it that much worse. Maybe this way I’ll get a better idea of what is sufficient for next time?”
He glowers at you in silence for a minute before responding. “The idea is that there not be a next time. And I most assuredly do not find it a sufficient measure,” he finally states evenly. “But I think I will take your suggestion and increase the severity as I see fit. Is that understood?”
“Yeah,” you reply.
He gets in your face now. “You will answer me properly, recruit.”
He holds your eye contact for a few more seconds as if waiting for you to change your mind. When you don’t, he takes a step back and unbuttons one sleeve, rolling it up, then the other. Taking hold of your wrist, he gives a sharp yank, bringing you closer to his desk.
“Bend over, hands on the desk,” he orders.
You do as told, briefly, giving your ass an enticing wiggle as you do. Then you look back over your shoulder with a smirk. “Should I take my pants down?” You pause. “Or do you want to be the one to do that?”
His eyes narrow, dangerous and calculating, his jaw working for a few seconds. “Quiet, you,” he finally mutters as a heavy hand falls between your shoulder blades, pushing until your elbows buckle so that your cheek lays against the desk’s surface. The other tugs roughly at your waistband.
The cool office air hits your now-bare ass, you bite your lip against the grin you’re fighting, unable to believe you’re actually getting away with this. You try to look again, movement hindered by the hand at your shoulder blades, but in the corner of your eye, you can see a sliver of bare arm and sleeve cuffed above the elbow.
It seems like a million years that he makes you wait. You’re just considering doing something to provoke him again when the other hand falls sharply against your cheek, the crack of his palm chased by the first sting. You try to hold still and await the next fall as warmth rises on your stricken skin.
You try, but as much as you do you can’t resist squirming and turning, wanting so badly to watch.
“Eyes on the desk,” he orders through clenched teeth. “This isn’t a game.” You bite back a giggle as his hand meets your other cheek soundly with a sting that’s both satisfying and leaves you wanting another. You wiggle your ass just a little, and wonder if the Marshal is the sort that likes to follow spankings with...other things. You can’t help but notice that there aren’t many things on his desk and it would be so easy to clear them off to use the surface for other purposes. And then he speaks again.
“I’m not convinced that this is an effective way of dealing with you.”
“Oh yes! It is, I won’t do it again, honest!” You protest.
The hand at your back disappears. “Stay there. Don’t even think about moving.”
You’re tempted try to sneak a glance behind you, but you hear him step away to the side. A few seconds later you hear him rustling in a cabinet.
You don’t have to wait long to see what he’s after. Suspense isn’t part of his plan. The latch clicks and his footsteps return. “I think something a little firmer than my hand is needed,” he informs you. “Stand and face me at attention.”
You do as ordered, as best as you can with your uniform pants still around your knees, more out of curiosity than true obedience. You struggle to keep a straight face when you see what’s in his hand: a paddle, about the length of his forearm and width of his hand. It’s a dark wood, beautifully polished until the grain glistens in the light like the finest threads of metal.
Though your face doesn’t move, your eyes surely show your excitement. You know it’s visible when Cor raises his eyebrow and the rest of his expression darkens. “This is a punishment, not a game.”
You do your best to reign in your barely contained giddiness. “Yes sir,” you quickly reply.
“Turn around, hands and eyes on the desk,” he orders and you do, waiting for the first impact.
Not one to worry about fanfare or dramatic effect, Cor’s first swing lands without delay, falling squarely across both cheeks, pushing a gasp from your lungs. The impact radiates through your nerves.
“I hope the next time you wanna mouth off like that, this makes you stop and think first.”
Oh, it’ll make you stop and think. Just not in the way he has in mind.
You only have a few seconds before the second swing lands. This time you bite your lip and can’t help a whilper as the initial sting sublimates into tingling warmth.
Another blow falls, compounding the pain into your flesh, quickly turning tender. Part of you is tempted to put your hands back over the point of impact but you know that’s a bad idea. You whimper, a little louder this time.
“Yeah that’s the point,” Cor comments. “It’s not supposed to feel like a nice soft rubbing.”
And somewhere beneath the deepening pain, your excitement grows. You try to hold still, but you can’t help yourself.
“Knock that off,” he growls. When you do stop you know it’s coming. You swear it’s no harder than before but the pain is intensified from the cumulative effects of twice before, as well as the first blows from his open palm - substantial in their own right.
Your cheeks are burning- and so is your face. He comes around to lift your chin roughly, glaring at you. “Have I made myself clear?”
He doesn’t wait for you to answer, but you nod all the same. As you do though, you can’t help a self-satisfied grin at what you *have* gotten away with. It’s pushed off your face as the paddle makes contact again, harder than the last time, the force of it making your eyes water slightly and you can’t hold back a little yelp.
He says no more but pauses for a few seconds. The surface pain is just starting to dissipate as the paddle falls one more time, you feel this blow more deeply and wonder if there will be bruises, almost hoping there will be light ones, ones that you can see for a few days. Later, you’ll fantasize about laying over his thighs as he does give you a nice, soft rubbing and how nice that would feel.
For now though, Cor’s rough voice cuts through your thoughts. “Stand up and turn around.”
You do. He tucks the paddle under one arm and pointedly looks away. You take this as your signal to right your clothing, the fabric passing over the freshly tenderized flesh sending jolts through your body. You do your best to appear remorseful.
“Eyes straight ahead.” He waits for you to comply before continuing. “Now I don’t want to have a repeat meeting like this,” he tells you. He’s not directly in front of you so you can’t be absolutely certain without breaking your posture, but you’re sure his eyes believe contradiction. As he dismisses you, you can’t help but try to think of a way to engineer another “disciplinary meeting” without getting into too much real trouble.
Chapter 2: Aranea/Reader
“It’s been a while,” Aranea comments, running a finger across your lips. “I do miss these times we share. She smirks and paces back and forth in front of you, her braids flicking from side to side as she moves.
“I’ve been thinking,” she tells you. “I know it’s just a standby but you look like you could use a good old fashioned flogging, hmm?” She treats you to something between a smirk and a sweet smile and you’re at a loss to resist. Aranea knows just how to play you and you eat it up. In the end, you always leave happy you did.
You nod, tongue slipping across your lips in anticipation. “Please,” you breathe. There’s no element of surprise here but your breath quickens precisely because you know what to expect.
“Oh good, I did hope you’d agree,” she says. As if there were any question of it? “Come with me.” She takes you by the hand and leads you to the wall. “Face first,” she tells you. It’s needless, you know where to go and what to do, but it’s also ritual. “Assume the position.”
This too is ritual and you quickly prepare yourself for what is to come as she begins to fasten your restraints.
“How is that, sweetie?” She asks, voice low with honey and spice. You know she has you perfectly restrained, but you make a display of testing each one, with hope that you’ll catch a glimpse of her satisfied smile in the periphery of your vision.
“I’m at your mercy,” you tell her. She remains behind you, out of your sight, but you can hear that smile in her voice feel it in her fingers as she trails them appreciatively down your back, over your ass, caressing a cheek.
“Are you ready?” she asks, softly, teasingly as she takes the flogger and draws its tails just as softly over the spot she’d just fondled.
Your breath catches in your throat as the strands pull over your skin. Funny how they can slither so teasingly when the hand moves the flogger one way, and snap with the kiss of pain when it moves in another way.
For now she taunts you with the former. Soon, not soon enough, you will know the latter. She rests a hand on your hip, whispers in your ear, “Do you think you’re ready?” You know that however you answer, she will disagree. Just to be contrary. Just to underscore whose hand is on the reins.
“I am,” you whisper your assertion, your prayer, as if she were your priestess holding a blessing, ready to bestow but still just out of reach.
She drags it across your skin for long, torturous moments before finally giving it a flick. This too is a tease, it lands with barely a hint of the sting you know well.
“I hate you,” you huff though there is no malice in your voice.
She laughs, this is her fun and while you won’t admit to it- not like this at least- it’s just as much yours. She rubs the spot where the lash fell, as if it needed soothing. As if to drive it in that she has the power to give you everything you want- and to withhold it.
“Now now, sweetie, we both know that’s a lie,” she purrs, caressing your cheek, wrapping an arm enough around you to find the nipple on that side and gently brush a thumb over it. “You know how I feel about lying, and what happens when you do, don’t you?”
You nod, torn between begging to take it back because you know what itwill bring and repeating the words because you know what it will bring.
She flicks the lash just under your ass, it barely touches you but in such a sensitive place, it makes you jump as if in shock. She laughs softly to herself. You hear it swish and wonder if she’s going to do it again.
But she comes around to your side, slides a hand beneath your chin. You turn to face her though she’s not exerting even a bit of force, as if her will alone compels you to meet her gaze.
“You want it?”
“Yes,” your eyes are pleading. You need it.
A slow smile graces her lips. “Face the wall, pretty.”
There is no command in her voice. That they are her words is command enough.
As the lash falls on your skin, the first one soft- they won’t all be like this- so too does a sigh from your lips.
And the next. Just a little sharper this time.
Another. This one lands on fresh skin, the sting wholly new again and lingering even as the next blow falls. You jerk against your restraints with a little yelp, and she pauses to run a hand soothingly across the points where the lash has fallen.
“Just like that, pretty.” Her praise is never lavish, but you always know when she’s pleased. You feel a warm flush spread on your face. “Thank you,” you reply.
Your reward is another. Yes, she was so right, she knew exactly what you needed tonight.
“Tell me how much you’ve missed it?” A command posed as a question.
On the next, you falter. When you try to find your voice, to tell her what she wants, Aranea brings a hand to gently cover your mouth. “No, that’s okay I asked too soon. I can wait.”
The lash falls, and falls again. On your thighs and on your cheeks, it falls faster. One especially sharp crack and you accidentally bite her finger. She pulls her hand away, smirking. “You’re really enjoying this,” She comments. “Aren’t you?”
Your eyes flutter closed. “Yes,” you whisper, forehead falling against the wall. You take a long breath, anticipation of another sting building within you. But none comes. You open your eyes and look around wondering where she’s gone, but she is beyond your limited range.
Seconds later, Aranea reappears in your sight again, a more substantial flogger in hand. “Shall we move on?” She suggests with one eyebrow raised suggestively.
You nod and turn again to face forward. She slides a hand down your back to caress your ass, her touch soothing over the skin inflamed from landed blows. “I missed it,” you almost moan. “I really missed it.” The words seem insubstantial, trite, but you put all the feeling you can into them, you truly mean every syllable that you speak.
“I know,” she replies, just as much gravitas in her words as in yours. The moment hangs heavy for just a few seconds before it breaks.
“Okay, pretty!” She announces, voice brightening. “Eyes ahead!”
You focus on the wall and wait for the sting.
It bites, far more sharply and deeply than before. Your back arches and you can’t hold back a cry. As the pain radiates, farther and deeper, you savor it as it spreads, as the seconds pass for the full impact of the heavier lash before another falls. “Let go,” Aranea coaxes, knowing the sounds she can draw from you, has drawn in the past. “Let me hear you,” she says as it falls once more. Your wordless cry rises in pitch as heat rises in your flesh.
“That sounded so lovely,” she coos, taking your chin again and turning your face to gaze into her eyes, laying a kiss like a feather, like a sacrament on your lips. Always, she is as ready with the soft words and kisses as she is with the pain, bestowing them with inextricably equal care.
Before her lips leave yours, a sting, harder than any other tonight, falls across your ass. Faster too, falls another. Your whole body jerks against your restraints and desire ignites deep within you, your earlier wanting flaring as bite after bite rains on your flesh. Your heart begins to pound and you don’t know how long it will last or what she might do next. Aranea never tells you what will come next, you only know that you crave whatever unspoken thing she may have planned.
The stings hit, more and more rapidly, your cries and shudders flow from staccato to continuous. A tear trails from the corner of your eyes, then another and another. “You’re doing so nicely,” Aranea assures you, her voice becoming breathy with excitement “I think it’s time to take it down again,” she adds after a few more cracks of the flogger, slower, less harsh.
When the lash ceases, you sag against your restraints, wrung out, blood coursing with endorphins. Slowly you shake your head and some of the haze clears. A hand slips between your thighs, tapping gently, your signal to part them and fingers slide against your slick folds, sending electricity through your nerves.
“I do think we’re ready to move on with the night,” she purrs. You can’t see it, but you can imagine the curl of her lips. “Let’s get you to the bed.”
You’re more than happy to comply.
Chapter 3: Ignis/Reader
You come home from work, intending to spend a nice quiet evening relaxing. Your lover has informed you that he must work. As he is an advisor to the king, you’re accustomed to this coming up at inconvenient times and you’ve learned to adapt. You’ve already planned to celebrate your birthday over the upcoming weekend. You know he’ll go to great lengths to make it up to you.
However, you’re surprised to find, when you enter the apartment you share, that it’s occupied. Wondrous smells float in from the kitchen and you realize you may not have that quiet evening after all.
You take off your shoes and make your way to the kitchen, just as Ignis turns to greet you.
“What are you doing here?” you wonder.
“I managed to get my work done early,” he explains. “And Noctis insisted that I come home to you. I stopped by the market to fetch dinner. We’ll have steak with roasted root vegetables and a salad with miso dressing that I’ve just mixed.”
Your stomach grumbles just then. “Cake?” you ask hopefully.
“Cake, naturally,” he replies, nodding towards the counter where an exquisitely frosted chiffon cake sits. Immediately, you make a beeline for it, gazing at it greedily. Ignis always makes the most perfect cakes.
A leather-clad hand reaches out and sieges yours, your finger barely a hair’s width from the frosted surface. “After dinner,” Ignis scolds in a voice that sends a shiver up your spine.
“All right,” you agree and he lets your hand go to turn the steaks. You stay put and wait until he turns to face you again, watching him, making sure that he sees your finger again heading for the frosting.
His speed is a thing to behold and he’s across the room as if teleporting, again grabbing your wrist. “You will keep your fingers out of that cake I went to the trouble to bake until after dinner. Do you understand, you naughty girl?”
You pretend to think about it for a minute, then you nod. “I understand,” you tell him with a sweet smile, letting the way he said “naughty girl,” play over and over again in your mind.
“All right,” he says, letting go of your hand and turning back to the stove. “Another such incident will earn you a trip over my knee,” he informs you over his shoulder. You don’t want the steaks to over cook or the vegetables to burn- Ignis always cooks them to perfection, so you wait til they’re off the stove and the vegetables out of the oven. You lean over, propping an elbow on the counter, your ass pushed out prominently. When he’s removed the food from heat, he turns around just in time to catch you drag a finger through the creamy frosting and put it in your mouth to suck it off. “Mmmm,” you groan softly, just a little more suggestive than necessary, eyes slightly widened with feigned innocence.
“All right you little brat,” he announces sternly, “you chose to disobey me and now you will face the consequence.”
You feel a little thrill run down your spine, you know what’s coming.
“I think it’s time I reintroduced the birthday tradition of spankings,” he informs you. “Go to the chairs.”
“The Chairs” are two. One, beautiful, leather-covered and has no arms. It’s only for times like this. When you disobey, Ignis sits on it and takes you over his knee to administer the punishment. The other is plain, but finely made. Its seat is uncovered, uncushioned wood. Ignis often directs you to sit for a time after your punishment and think about what you’ve done. You hesitate, and he points to the other room. “Go.” He orders and this time you obey, standing next to his chair to wit for him. You notice a small box on the table next to it. Curious, you’re tempted to reach out and open it but he enters the room, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves above his elbows as he does.
Sitting down on his chair, he looks at you expectantly. When you don’t immediately kneel over his lap, he takes you over it himself, gloved hand gripping your arm firmly. “This is what happens to a naughty girl who doesn’t keep her fingers out of the birthday cake,” He purrs in your ear as he pulls your skirt up and panties down.
You reach back, struggling to try to keep your skirt down, your panties up. It’s part of the game. You love how sternly he treats you, voice a low growl as he tells you that this is the only way he can get his point across, and even more what comes next.
Before you know it, a rain of smacks starts falling on your ass, the slap of leather on bare skin a staccato melody in your ears, on your flesh. You struggle and squirm as you start to become aroused, a firm hand presses between your shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere until your bottom is sufficiently warmed,” he informs you. Indeed, you feel your cheeks- both pairs- growing quite warm, one from the repeated strikes of his hand against them, one from excitement at your disobedience, and even more so at your punishment.
When finally he decides that he has done his job, the smacks slow, then they fall no more. “You may stand,” he tells you, and you do, pulling your panties back up, wincing as the edge of the elastic scrapes over your stinging flesh.
“You will sit on your chair to eat dinner,” he says. Before you have chance to move, he speaks again, a small smirk curling his lips. “I suppose it’s as good of a time as any to give you your birthday present.”
You can’t help looking up eagerly at these words. Ignis is a generous and thoughtful gift-giver, and you’ve never been disappointed. He takes the box from the table and hands it to you with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, naughty, naughty girl,” he tells you as you take it. There is no ribbon but it is covered in deep blue velvet. You run your fingers over its surface, impatient to see what it contains, but enchanted by the lush softness of the material. Finally, you lift the top, a little squeal of delight falling from your lips as you see what lies inside: a hairbrush in an old-fashioned style, large and paddle-shaped with stiff bristles. You pick it up and turn it over, the lacquered wooden grain of its back glistening in the light.
“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, placing it carefully back in the box, and the box on the table before he pulls you to him for a long kiss. standing between his legs, your bodies press together a bit awkwardly but also in such a way that its evident that he is just as pleased as you are.
“Do try to behave through dinner,” he tells you as the kiss breaks.
“I’ll try my best,” you tell him coyly.
“Shall we eat then?” He suggests. You step back and he stands. Always the gentleman, he carries your chair to the table where you have already moved to wait, pushing it in for you as you sit.
Dinner has to be reheated but you don’t mind. The meat practically melts in you mouth, the vegetables perfectly seasoned and browned. When finally he brings the cake out, the trench left in the icing, your eyes light up as the candles flicker. Ignis sings a little birthday song for you in his silky baritone voice. You fidget and squirm on the hard chair, cheeks still tender as you blow out the candles and quickly reach forward to dredge up another finger full of the frosting. “Mmmm.” You make a show of licking your finger, imagining what is to come later.
Chapter 4: Ignis/Gladio
Gladio stormed into the apartment and threw himself into his favorite armchair, sulking. When he finally remembered, he pulled off his boots and let them fall in front of him, not caring about the smudges of dirt they left on the carpet when he’d stopped in. It had been a bad day and he just wanted to try to relax but he couldn’t get off his mind how stubborn Noctis had been, how badly his personal training session with Cor had gone, how his father had suddenly insisted without giving him notice that he had to pick up Iris from a friend’s house when he was trying to finish some paperwork.
Reaching for the book he was currently reading on the coffee table, he thought better of it, not really in a mood to read just yet, not relaxed enough to be able to enjoy it. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to zone out, telling himself he’d move his boots and take care of the carpet in a few minutes. But either he must have fallen asleep and lost the time, or Ignis was home earlier than expected because the next thing he knew the door was opening again.
There was no time to move his boots, let alone try to do anything about the dirt, so he sighed and waited for the inevitable. It wouldn’t be long, thought it might be a few minutes. from the sound of it, Ignis was on the phone, undoubtedly still taking care of some work matter well after he’d left for the day and from the sound of it, he was not happy.
“…require those documents first thing…morning, no excuses. His Highness needs…Majesty…hear about this…” Gladio caught words and phrases as Ignis moved through the hallway and kitchen.
Finally, there was silence and the sound of stocking feet scuffing onto carpet behind him. Gladio braced himself.
“What on Eos is this? Gladiolus?”
“What?” Gladio snapped back.
“Your boots are in the middle of the floor and there is dirt smudged all over the carpet
“Yeah, I had a rough day. Gimme a minute, I’ll take care of it.”
“You’ll take care of it all right,” Ignis replied, his voice lowering dangerously.
Gladio didn’t move just yet, he knew that voice.
“Gladiolus.” Ignis echoes in the same tone.
“Yeah, gimme a minute all right?” Three, two…
“I will not. Stand up,” Ignis ordered him sharply. Ah, there it was.
He let out a sigh and did as told.
“All right, all right I’m up.”
“Good. Now, you are going to take off your work clothing and you are going to take care of this. After that, we will be having a conversation.”
Gladio couldn’t help the shiver that slid down his spine at the word “conversation”, he knew exactly what that meant.
“All right, Iggy. I’m going.”
“Yes, Ignis. I will go and change as requested, and I will take care of the carpet immediately. Are there any particular clothing into which you would like me to change?”
Ignis looked thoughtful for a moment. “That’s very thoughtful of you to ask,” he replied, leaning forward, taking Gladio’s chin firmly and giving him and brief kiss on the lips. “I’d like you to wear the new boxer briefs that I bought you last week. I haven’t seen them on you yet.”
Gladio nodded and went off to change.
Ignis smirked at Gladio’s retreating form. His day had been hell and coming home to find Gladio in a bad mood and having made a mess with his boots on the carpet had done neither of them any favors. Thankfully, it did serve as a catalyst for something that would remedy the situation all around.
Gladio soon returned attired as requested. He stood in the middle of the living room as Ignis slowly circled him, inspecting, making a thoughtful little sound here and there, finally taking a firm handful of Gladio’s ass cheek, appreciating the way the soft black cotton fabric hugged its form.
Finally stepping back in front of Gladio, he reached out to palm the front. “Very nice,” he murmured in approval, stroking the heel of his hand along Gladio’s fabric-covered cock, smirking to himself as Gladio hissed softly through his teeth. “Very nice,” he echoed.
“Now I am going to ready myself. I expect to see you at work when I return in a few minutes. If you should happen to finish before I return, then kindly put your supplies away and return here to wait for me. Is that understood?”
“It is, yes,” Gladio said with a nod.
“Good,” Ignis replied, turning to go to the bedroom and fetch the necessities.
Ignis took off his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. He undid the cuffs and rolled his sleeves to just below his elbows. Opening a drawer, he took out a pair of black leather gloves and pulled them on. They were recently purchased, still a little stiff but they would break in in time- and today would help. Taking a long breath, he tried to let the tension of the day leave him- his effort was not immediately successful but it was a start, and this evening would facilitate that. He knew that Gladio had had a rough day as well. He knew what to do to vastly improve both of their stress levels.
Going to another drawer, he glanced over a selection of implements and took out a small paddle. Satisfied for the moment, he left check on Gladio’s progress.
After Ignis stepped out of the room, Gladio stood there for a minute, his shoulders sagging. It all seemed well and good when Ignis had told him what to do but as soon as he was alone in the room again, his mood have overtaken him. It took him another minute or two to remind himself that Ignis’s telling him what to do like this always led to an enjoyable outcome and that his night would be much improved for it. He picked up his boots and moved them over next to Ignis’s shoes by the door, then went to the kitchen for the cleaning supplies. Examining the dirt marks before he started anything, it mostly looked dry and loose so he abandoned the scrub brush first to try the vacuum cleaner.
He as just bending over to plug it in when he heard a distinct “ahem” behind him. He stood and turned.
“I expected to find you hard at work when I returned, not barely started,” Ignis stated, glaring at him.
“Sorry Iggy, I got a slow start.”
“That is evident,” Ignis replied tersely. “So I need to be watching to ensure that you are working efficiently? Very well.” He turned and sat primly on the sofa, legs crossed, eyebrows slightly raised. When Gladio didn’t immediately resume his work, he gestures to the cleaner. “Please proceed.”
This was enough push for Gladio to resume, he bent over (Ignis giving his ass a good look-over as he did, smirking to himself though his face was again a stern blank by the time Gladio stood and turned) and plugged in the vacuum, turning it on.
As it turned out, the dirt was, in fact removed with the vacuum, much to Gladio’s relief, whatever Iggy had planned he was most definitely not in the mood to actually scrub a carpet.
Ignis stood to inspect the carpet, saying nothing at first. Finally, he turned and gave Gladio a long, unreadable look. “An acceptable job. However, for your inefficiency, a punishment will be necessary.”
“Seriously Iggy?” Gladio replied rolling his eyes.
“Seriously, Gladiolus,” Ignis replied. “You know the consequences.”
Gladio growled low in his throat, a frustrated but not altogether disapproving sound. Ignis knew how to push his buttons. “So what’s it gonna be then?” He conceded.
“Oh good,” Ignis purred, stepping closer, a hand on Gladio’s arm, lips to his ear. “Because I am going to warm that ass of yours til they can see it glow from the Citadel. Gladio’s hands went to cup his own cheeks protectively and Ignis couldn’t help another laugh. “It’s the only way to make you see the error of your ways, as such disregard as you’ve shown will simply not be tolerated.” He paused, gauging the heat that was growing in Gladio’s eyes. “Over the arm of the sofa you go,” he directed with a point of his finger. “And let me hear no complaint from you, this is what you deserve for such naughty behavior.”
Gladio grumbled. It was for show, really. Ignis knew it too. He leaned over the arm of the sofa, elbows propped on the cushions, ass in the air. He looked over his shoulder and gave it a saucy wiggle as Ignis’s eyes roved over him critically, his lips twitching once, almost imperceptibly. A hand went to his ass, cupping a cheek. a thumb caressing through his underwear. Then as quickly it was there, it was gone. And a second later, it was there again, this time falling much harder, the sound muffled slightly by the fabric.
The sharpness of the impact, however, was not noticeably buffered, the sting coming through clearly. Gladio grunted softly, his cheeks clenching reflexively against it. This was only the first slap. When all was said and done there would be more than he could count. Another landed just as sharply on the other cheek. When the sting subsided, he pushed his ass out just a little more, adding an anticipating wiggle.
“Cheeky today,” Ignis remarked as the next slap fell, giving a quick squeeze and laughing to himself at his own clever words. In the next moment he was all business again, increasing the pace, his slaps raining down as he picked up a rhythm, the staccato sound almost a drumbeat in his head.
“Always,” Gladio grunted, wiggling his ass enticingly between the slaps.
“Hold still you,” Ignis chided with an extra hard slap.
“Mmm, I like that Iggy,” he groaned as another round of slaps fell.
“It’s supposed to be a punishment,” Ignis countered, his voice thickening with lust, watching Gladio’s muscles flex and twitch with every slap. He resisted the temptation to grab Gladio by the hips and grind his quickly hardening cock against that ass.
Instead, he reached over and took up the paddle he’d brought with him. “It’s time for something a little more serious than my hand,” he informed Gladio, who cranes his neck to see what he was referring to. He held it up for display while hooking two fingers into the underwear’s waistband.
Gladio’s breath hitched slightly at the site of the paddle, and Iggy’s fingers playing over the fabric, dipping teasingly into the little divot at the top of his crack. “Do you have to Iggy?” He begged with a whine rising in his voice.
“I do if I want to get my point across,” ignis replied, starting to pull back the underwear, the waistband scraping over stinging skin, the muscles I his cheeks tensing at the sensation, his cock becoming harder.
Ignis slowly pulls them back, he knows this part drives Gladio crazy, the anticipation of what’s to come, when exactly the paddle will fall in already-sore flesh. He rubs his still-gloved hand over the rosy skin, smirking to himself at how much deeper that shade will soon be.
“Mmmmmh, Iggy....” Gladio complains when the hand is taken away. “Come on....,”
“Oh,” Ignis tuts, “but weren’t you just asking if I really had to? You know I do but you are sending me such mixed signals now darling,” Ignis can barely keep the amusement out of his voice. He takes up the paddle and moves to stand in front of Gladio, letting it fall, soundly, a few times on his gloved palm, watching as his lover’s pupils dilate at the sight. Fingers under Gladio’s chin, he tips it upward for a kiss. Then pulls away, Gladio’s eyes zoning straight back to the paddle as soon as it’s in view again.
Ignis was the worst kind of tease, Gladio was convinced of it. He knew how to play any situation for all it was worth, the damned strategist in him was far too thoroughly trained. While Iggy just stood there, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, Gladio moved as if he were going to stand. It provoked exactly the desired response. Before he could even see, Ignis had his hand pressed to the middle of his back, pushing him right back down.
Then the paddle fell, a burning sting on his already sensitized ass.
Thwack. Again. Thwack. Gladio’s cheeks clenched in anticipation, groaning softly, he tried to relax them before the next blow fell, but Ignis was picking up speed, hitting each one alternatively in a staccato rhythm precise enough to mark time. His groans deepened to grunts, his cock almost painfully hard, the ridge of his underwear’s fly rubbing maddeningly against it with every jerk and twitch.
“Ig-Iggy please...,” He panted. “I’ve learned, I-I won’t do that again.”
Ignis paused. “Oh have you?” He questioned, rubbing his hand over the red flesh of Gladio’s ass, so warm and tender now.
“Six…,” Gladio breathed, feeling the muscle twitch under Ignis’s touch.
Ignis pulled his hand away. “Perhaps you won’t. I believe your intention at least,” Ignis mused. Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Oh yes. I may have something to, ah, rub it in a little deeper,” he added after a moment. “I will bright back. Do not move.
Gladio sighed in resignation, unsure what Ignis may have in mind. But as told, he didn’t move. He could hear Ignis rummaging in the bedroom and not a minute later, returning with something in his hand, appearing be a small tube of some sort.
Ignis removed his gloves and unscrewed the cap.
“What’s that?” Gladio asked.
Ignis smirked. “Just a little…memory aid,” he replied enigmatically as he squeezed a bit onto his fingers.
The touch was cool at first, but that didn’t last longer than the first seconds of contact. As Ignis spread the substance over his skin, there was quickly a sensation of slight warming. In a matter of seconds that slight warning was something much more intense.
“Mmmmh Iggy what is that?” Gladio begged, his cheeks clenching against the heat.
“It’s a cream formulated with capsaicin,” Ignis explained. “I expect that it’s feeling a bit warm just now?
“Yeah you could say that,” Gladio answered raggedly.
“Oh good,” Ignis replied, his voice taking on a brighter tone. Slipping one glove back on, he gave Gladio’s ass one last, sound smack.
“Six Iggy, warn a guy,” Gladio hissed.
“Where is the fun in that darling?” Ignis replied. “Now why don’t we get you into the bedroom and get on with the evening. He paused, smirking. “If you can walk that is.”
“Sure Iggy, no problem,” Gladio replied stiffly, straightening himself and pulling his underwear up over his cheeks again. “Six,” he hissed through his teeth. “That hurts like fuck,” he complained. Indeed it did, both from the heated sensation- seeming to warm still further under the newly replaced fabric, and the feel of the fabric itself, however soft, rubbing across his punished cheeks.
He hissed again as Ignis gave him another light squeeze.
“Oh yes,” Ignis laughed as they headed towards the bedroom, Gladio stepping in a most gingerly fashion, . “I believe you will remember this one for some time.”
The pain he was experiencing doing nothing to quell his arousal, Gladio knew that Ignis would be in a similar- albeit less sore state, and as he removed the last stitch of clothing that still cling to his ass, he gave Ignis a long up-and down glance. “Got anything else in mind?” He questioned, knowing well the answer.
“Oh, I do,” Ignis replied, pointing to the bed. “Face down, Gladiolus,” he directs, his eyes never leaving Gladio’s reddened ass as he himself undressed, taking his time, folding his clothes and drawing it out, the lust in Gladio’s eyes as he turned to watch impossible to miss.
Gladio stared openly at Ignis’s cock, standing hard and erect. His tongue swiped over his lips as he watched his lover apply a condom, then lube, before spreading Gladio’s legs and drizzling it between his cheeks.
“I said face down,” Ignis[ reminded him sternly as he straddled Gladio’s thighs, one hand planted at the center of his back.
Gladio closes his eyes, bowing his head until his brow touched the sheet, knowing what was next. He nearly jumped when Ignis gave his ass a slap just as he was positioning himself for penetration.
It didn't last long, they were both nearly on the edge with arousal. With a shuddering groan against the back of Gladio’s neck, Ignis sank into hot, yielding flesh, Gladio pressing back against him.
“Fuck, Gladiolus,” he muttered against heated skin, snaking an arm under gladio’s ribs, any semblance of rhythm to his thrusts quickly leaving him as both of them became more erratic. Only moment, he was spilling release hot and fast, and he could feel gladio beneath him doing the same, their ragged breaths and harsh grunts intermingling.
Moments later, Ignis was rolling to the side, stroking Gladio’s cheek as his breathing slowed. “I think we both needed that, darling,” he whispered with a smile.
“Yeah…” Gladio breathed. “Sorry about the carpet.”
“Not to worry, I believe it’s been taken care of,” he replied. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and have some dinner?”
Chapter 5: (explicit) Cindy/Reader
“Hey sugar,” Cindy calls you from the front of the garage. “I have a big favor to ask you!”
“Sure thing!” you drop what you’re doing and jog out from the back, excited to find out what the “big favor” is.
You find her just finishing up polishing the windshield of the Regalia, which she’s just upgraded for Prince Noctis. “What’s up?”.
“I think our girl here is all ready to go. Do you think you can take her for.a quick spin for me, see how she handles?”
“R-really?” You stammer in disbelief. You haven’t been working for Cindy and her grandfather for more than a few months, so being asked to take such a valuable car out to test is an unexpected show of trust.
She dangles the keys from one finger and you snatch them quickly before you wake up and find it’s a dream. “Okay! Yeah! I can do that!”
“All right. Now don’t go over the speed limit. Just take her a few miles down the road and come right back. Let me know if anything, even the ittiest detail seems off. “
You’re practically bouncing in your toes now, Cindy giggles at your excitement and waves you off. “Go on, skedaddle, can’t take too long in case anything does need an adjustment.
“Yes ma’am!” You exclaim, excited both for getting a chance to drive such a car- even if it’s just a quick test- and to show Cindy that her trust in you is well placed. You scramble into the car and make a little show of putting on the seatbelt for good measure.
“Bring her right back now!” Cindy calls as you pull carefully onto the road.
You wave back and start down the road, mentally mapping out a route that’ll take you over a few hills and curves to test the handling, but won’t take you too long to get back. As you pick up a little speed- but not too much of course- on the straight stretch you’re on now, you can’t help but think how hot Cindy looks today. She’s not the reason you applied for the job- okay she’s not the only reason. You find yourself allowing your mind to wander a little, thanking about her with smudges of grease, leaning under the hood of a car. You can never help yourself, sneaking peeks at her but also turned on by her mechanical skills. You can’t help but wonder what else she might do with her hands.
You don’t notice the time passing- or the needle creeping up on the speedometer- as you keep going down the highway, the car is handling so perfectly smoothly it’s just like driving in a dream. But then a flashing light appears in your rear view mirror and you hear an approaching siren. There are no other cars on this stretch of road so you know you’re busted. Sighing, you slow down, pull over and take out your license, waiting for the inevitable.
When all is said and done, you’re lucky. You have a clean driving record. The officer admired the car and when you explain that you’re test driving for Cindy he gives you a wink and lets you off just this once with a warning. You breathe a sigh of relief and turn to head back. When you check the time, you know you’ll be in for it back at the garage.
You head back, observing the speed limit precisely, nervous to face Cindy- you’ve been gone much longer than she asked. At least you can tell her honestly that the car handled well, you tell yourself as you pull in, biting your lip nervously.
Standing in the driveway, you see Cindy: arms crossed, foot tapping. She wears the sternest expression you’ve ever seen on her face. You get out of the car and report to her, head down. You hand her the keys, never meeting her eyes. “It handles nicely,” you tell her in mumble.
“Never mind that just now,” she replies. “I think you and me need to have a little chat.”
You nod nervously. “Yes...ma’am,” you add, figuring that politeness can only help your case.
“Let’s go to the office.” It’s more than a mere suggestion. She closes the door behind you. “Have a seat,” she says, pointing at a chair.
“Now,” she begins, “Do you know why we’re in here?”
You lick your lips and give a quick nod. “I took too long,” you admit quietly.
“Why yes that’s true, but that’s not the only reason. Do you know the other?”
Your mind races, you try to think. What other reason could there be? The officer let you go with a warning. Could he have stopped and told her?
She holds out her hand and opens her fingers, revealing a small device. On the way in, you noticed her reach into the car and, you thought she might have pulled something out but you weren’t certain. Now you see you were correct. “You’ve seen us use these devices before,” she tells you.
You have, it’s a device to record the car’s speed- and send it back remotely. It’s not used for every test drive, but when certain types of repairs are performed- how could you have been so thoughtless?
“You were going real fast, weren’t you?”
You nod, unable to deny it. You brace yourself, certain you’re about to be fired for two infractions at the same time.
“Now,” Cindy tells you, “Paw paw doesn’t know. If he had found out, it’d mean your job and there’d be no changin’ his mind. But I’m just gonna go ahead and erase the record. I’ll have to take her out again myself to have something to show and that’s gonna cut into my other work. There’s gonna have to be some kinda discipline here for what you’ve done.”
You look at her, hopeful. You don’t want to lose your job, so you wait for her to tell you what other consequences there may be.
“I’ve got my own idea of discipline,” Cindy tells you. Some folks think it’s a little old fashioned. I say it works. Stand up and take down your pants, then bend over the desk.”
Your eyes widen a little in surprise as you stand. Did she just say she was going to spank your bare ass?
Then she looks at you again. “No, I think you’re a little tall for me to get a good angle. She sits down on the chair you just vacated and pats her knee. “Right here sugar,” she says with a smile.
You hesitate. “W-with my pants down?” You’re mortified but a little intrigued, you can feel a blush rising in your cheeks at the idea.
“That’s right,” she chirps. “My mama used to say that nothing gets the point across like a nice warm heiney and I say spanking over pants just doesn’t give you enough sting to get the job done!”
“Oh,” you say, not sure how to respond to that. But you do want to keep your job so you slowly reach for the waistband and open the fly, holding them up as you step closer to her so you don’t trip.
“That’s it,” she encourages. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” she adds with a wink.
Tentatively, you lean over her lap, a look on your face as if to ask “Am I doing this right?” Cindy nods and nudges you slightly to adjust your position, and you put your hands flat on the floor for some balance.
“Okay sugar. You already know what you did and I hope this teaches you not to do it again,” she tells you as her hand makes contact. Thwak. Her palm connects with a sharp crack and a sting. Thwak. Now it falls on the other cheek. “Now were gonna get those cheeks both good and pink, no one gets left out here!” she informs you cheerily as she alternates between the two. Aside from the stinging, your skin is definitely starting to tingle. Your face is quite warm from embarrassment and you pray to the Six that no one else walks in.
Thwak. Thwak. Thwak thwak thwak thwak. You try not to make noise but a few cries and whimpers find their way out.
“Please!” You finally cry. “I’ve learned my lesson, I won’t do it again!”
“We’ll be finished when I decide we’re finished!” Cindy informs you as her hand meets your flesh yet again. Just then the doorknob rattles, then opens. Your fear has come true. You look up at the interloper- a very attractive man with sharply spiked hair and a suit that’s just as sharp, who turns read and starts stuttering an apology for interrupting.
“Oh don’t you worry about a thing, Cindy tells him, seemingly unaffected. “This is just a routine disciplinary action. I’m afraid she’s not done yet but I’ll give you a call real soon!”
“I-I see,” he says. “Pardon me. Again.” He quickly ducks out leaving you to work next who he is.
“Now don’t worry,” Cindy tells you soothingly. “That’s just the prince’s advisor. He won’t tell anyone. “Let’s get something to take your mind off that,” she suggests. “Stand up for me a minute, sugar?”
You do and she quickly goes to the desk and pulls out a drawer, reaching way back to draw something out.
“Here we go,” she tells you and you see the item in her hand is a small round paddle. Your eyes widen a little. “Come on, back where you were, she says settling back into the chair. You resume your position but it does nothing to take your mind off of the interruption. The prince’s advisor? Had he left? Or was he still just on the other side of the door? What if he overheard?
“All right,” she tells you. “Now, Junior here is gonna help me out a little with this lesson,” she informs you, tapping the paddle a few times agains the hell of her hand.
“Junior?” you ask.
“That’s right sweet cheeks! This here is Junior.” She brings the paddle over so you can see it. Indeed, it’s emblazoned with the moniker in slightly worn paint. You nervously chew your lips and glance towards the door. “Here we go!”
Cindy’s hand had been firm on your ass, but the paddle has absolutely no give. She brings it down on one cheek, then the other. You felt a sting before from her hand but now it’s definitely building. You can’t help imagining- and fearing...and maybe even a tiny bit hoping for- someone to walk in. You see him looming in your mind, realizing that he looks like the sort of person who might have been rather stern and intimidating had he not been so visibly shocked at having walked into the scene he did. Wonder if he’s into this you think to yourself. was he picturing it now? Then, in between the smacks of the paddle you hear a voice outside the door.
Your body tenses. It’s him. You can hear it. As the paddle falls again and again you strain to try to hear if there is anyone else with him.
“Have I lost you, sugar?” Cindy asks, swatting you a little harder this time to bring you back. “I-I’m sorry,” you force out, face warming with embarrassment. You know you shouldn’t have let your mind wander. This is your only chance to keep your job.
“Gonna stay with me now?” she asks.
“Uh huh.” you reply. “I will. Promise.”
“Good,” she tells you. “Now stand up and look me in the eye.”
Confused, you climb to your feet and look at her. “Okay?” you ask, unsure.
She gives you a long look before speaking. “You were thinking about that man out there, weren’t you?”
You hesitate but you know you should just tell the truth. “Maybe a little?” You reply sheepishly.
“He’s a looker, isn’t he,” she replies, giving you a conspiratorial wink.
“Yeah,” you reply, surprised at how the conversation is turning.
“Uh huh and I bet you wanted to be over his lap didn’t you?” Well you weren’t one hundred percent sure about that but the thought crossed your mind.
“Um, maybe?” You reply.
“Well, Missy,” she says, standing up with her hands on her hips. “Maybe I should go out there and ask him to come back in here, how about that?”
Your eyes fly wide open. “W-what?” You stammer, terrified and excited at the thought.
“I’ll be right back,” she tells you as she stands and goes to slip out the door. She was really asking him to come back in and take part of this? You hear muffled speaking and wish you could hear clearly. Tempted, you briefly consider moving closer to the door but your pants are still at your feet and you don’t want to be seen if the door opens.
A few seconds later, it does just that and Cindy breezes back in, closing it behind her. “All right sugar where were we?” She asks you cheerily.
“What?” You ask. “I thought you were going-“ you break off.
“You thought what?” She echoes in confusion. Then it dawns on her, “oh...no I was just teasing about asking him to join. I just sent them off on a hunt to buy me a little more time.”
“Oh...to re-test the car?”
“Something like that,” she tells you with a little smirk, pulling keys out of her pocket. “Now can I trust you to be a good girl and bring the car into the garage and close the door?”
“Y-Yeah,” You stammer, shocked that she’s even letting you look at the Regalia again so quickly. “Now?” You wonder. Is she finished with the spanking?
“I’m afraid we need to cut the discipline a little short, or will I need to continue after we finish with the car?”
You’re not sure how to answer. “I, uh, I think I got it!” You quickly bend to pull up your pants, though you can’t help almost wishing you had said yes to continuing later and wonder what Cindy would think if you changed your mind.
You take the keys from her and jog out to the regalia, getting in and turning on the engine. Carefully, very carefully you turn her towards the garage and inch your way in. It feels needlessly slow but you want to earn back the trust you lost so you do the best you can.
When the car is again turned off, you get out and then close the garage door, then you notice Cindy in the office doorway, watching you the whole time. You have the keys back to her. “Good job,” she says and while it feels unnecessary for just pulling into the garage, you’re happy for the words of approval.
“Think you could give the hood and windshield a quick polish while I check a few things?” She asks.
“Sure,” you say as you move to grab the necessary supplies.
A few minutes later, you’re leaning over the hood with a rag and Cindy is bustling about with her own tasks. She passes behind you and maybe you imagined it but did you just feel a hand on your ass? It’s still rather tender from the spanking so maybe she just brushed by but didn’t mean to touch you and it felt like more?
When she finishes, Cindy stands on the opposite side of the hood and watches you for a minute. “Got her nice and shiny,” she finally comments, leaning over and looking down as if to try to see her reflection. You can’t help but notice how much more prominently her cleavage is suddenly displayed and try not to stare, not sure if she’s doing it on purpose or if it’s just he virtue of the bikini top and jacket she wears to work. “Think you can do her backside just as good?” She asks after what must just have been a second but feels like an eternity.
“Yeah...” you reply absently. And then her words catch up to you. “Wait, what?”
“The back windshield and the trunk, make her nice and shiny” she says with a giggle. “What? Oh yeah, right on it!” You hastily scramble to do just that.
A few minutes later you’re polishing the hood, and there it is, no mistake this time, Cindy comes up just behind you and leans in to observe your work, one hand grabbing your ass. “Lookin’ good, Sugar,” she tells you with a squeeze to your cheek and suddenly you’re not sure if she means your polishing...or if she means you yourself?
You push back against her hand, wondering if she’ll do anything more. Your mind goes back to the office, to get hand and her paddle falling with a thwack on your skin. You wonder if Cindy’s thinking the same. She squeezes a little more, then turns to you, her breath warm on your ear. “Wanna know a secret?”
Her voice and breath in your ear make you suddenly feel like you need to gulp for air. Not quite able to get a clear “yes” out, you turn to face her and nod.
“I was hoping I’d get a chance to do that,” she admits. “Don’t do it again though.”
“I-I won’t,” you almost squeak.
“Wanna know something else?”
Do you? You hesitate. “Okay?”
“A good spanking gets me a little hot under the hood if you know what I mean?”
“No one’s ever spanked me before,” you confess. “Not...like that anyway.”
Her eyes light up and she flashes you a brilliant smile. “Well sugar, it was my pleasure! You liked it too, didn’t you?”
You were unsure at first but you’ve since decided that you liked it. A lot.
“Yeah,” you tell her, less hesitant now.
“Oh you little devil, I thought so!” She laughs, bringing a hand around to squeeze your ass again. You shudder a little when her fingers press into the most tender part, her face taking on a sultry expression. She lets them slip a little lower, your breath hitching as she’s suddenly…not touching your ass anymore.
“Oh yeah, you definitely like that!” she says.
You nod silently, wondering what she would do if you were to kiss her. But she beats you to it and her lips are suddenly on yours, soft and tasting like some sweet, fruity lip balm. She smells faintly of apple shampoo and motor oil. The tip of her tongue prods gently at the seam of your lips, you part them to grant her access, tentatively flicking your own at her lips. Feeling a little less trepidatious in the wake of her advance, you slide a hand up her side and fumble for the zipper tab on her jacket, pulling it down the last inch or two that she’s kept it closed. She backs away enough to shrug it off, returning to the kiss and reaching under your shirt. You shiver as her hand slides upward, fingertips finding a nipple under your bra, teasing at the sensitive nub. You breathe out a little “aaah…” as she moves to the other and reach around her back to find the clasp for her bikini top.
It pops free, she pulls the halter strap over her head with a laugh and drops it on the trunk of the car, a splash of bright pink against the dark paint. “Your turn,” she informs you with a cheery laugh, peeling your tank top over your head and removing your bra just as quickly. You get the sense that she’s got some experience doing this and it gives you a little shiver.
“Why don’t you turn around and put your hands on the hood,” she suggests. You do so and she plants a hand, soft but firm between your shoulders and a swat on your ass, then another. Even though it’s over your pants this time, it stings, and you flinch a little, but you find now that it excites you.
“Have i been bad again?” You ask with a little wiggle.
“Very very bad,” Cindy replies. “Makin’ me have to spank you and now you get me all going in the garage like this. And over such a hot car too.”
“Are you going to spank me over the hood of the car?”
Another slap to your ass.
“I was thinkin’ something a little more serious,” she tells you with a wiley grin.
“More...serious?” You echo, not sure what that might mean.
“Stay right there,” she tells you. “This calls for driving stick,” she winks and disappears back into the office.
*Driving stick?* you wonder, definitely confused now. Was she going to use some kind of...stick? Cane? On your backside this time?
A minute later she emerges with something in her hands and you suddenly understand. Your throat goes a little dry as the image processes.
She’s carrying a strap-on.
“What do you think, sugar? Wanna take a ride?”
Your eyebrows go up. Way up. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were...uh...hot under the hood.”
“Sure wasn’t,” she giggles. “If you’re not into it, that’s okay. It just seemed like...”
And here you thought you were getting in trouble today. Maybe you should break rules more often?
“Um...yeah that looks like fun,” you reply hoping you don’t sound too uneasy because damn, it does look like fun. “Are we going back into the office?”
Cindy giggles again. “Why do you think I told you to close the garage door, sweet cheeks? We’re gonna do it right here!”
“Here? In the garage?”
“Sure thing! I’ve been thinking about bending you over the hood of the old girl since I saw you polishing her hood earlier!”
You’re pretty sure your jaw just hit the gritty garage floor.
“Oh,” is all you manage to choke out. Then, just barely “o-okay. How do you want me?”
You stare at the phallic object in her hands as Cindy appears to think about it. It’s blue with white swirls, reminds you a bit of her well-worn cutoffs. And it’s rather thick, with visible veins. You can’t take your eyes off of it, and only nod mutely when she tells you to put your hands on the Regalia’s trunk and bend over it.
When you do, she gives your ass a quick slap and giggles. “Oh hey,” she says, “mind undoing your pants while I get this bad boy ready to go?”
You don’t have to be asked twice.
In the next minute, you’re back over the hood, looking over your shoulder as Cindy slips of her shorts and steps into the harness. Once in place she gives her hips a little wiggle. You can’t help snickering softly as it flicks a little from side to side. She squeezes some lube into her hand and spreads it over the length of the shaft. “Not quite the same as skin,” she comments as she does. “But trust me, it’s lots of fun.”
Of that, you have no doubt.
“Okay sugar” she says, putting one hand lightly on your lower back, “I’m gonna start slow here just relax and tell me if something ain’t right!”
“Okay,” You agree, doing was she says, gasping a little as you feel the tip tease against you.
But it’s right, Six it’s right. One of her hands presses firmly between your shoulder blades, the other at your hip as she slides slowly into you. Lifting your ass slightly for a better angle, you can’t keep back a groan at how it fills you.
“There we go,” Cindy murmurs. “That’s real nice isn’t it?”
“Yeah…” you agree, voice a little breathy. Nice.
She laughs and gives you another little slap on the ass. “Here we go,” she says, pulling back slowly until she’s almost out of you again, then pushing back just a little faster. She’s right, it’s definitely different from skin, but not in a bad way. And she already has you wanting more. “You can go a little faster,” you tell her as she pulls back once more. If she keeps the slow pace for too long, you’ll go mad from teasing. Or is that her plan?
“We’ll get there, sugar don’t you worry about that,” Cindy assures you. “Oh now that’s nice,” she coos as she repeatedly fills you and retreats with almost agonizing slowness. It feels good, but friction isn’t building quite fast enough. When you try to add to it by pushing back against her, she stops you. “None of that now,” she admonishes, taking hold of your hips to keep you where she wants you. “Just like that sugar, you take it so nice,” she assures you.
A minute later she pulls out fully and you wait..she doesn’t push back in again. Six, what’s she going to do now? It’s like a shock to your nervous system when she starts teasing the tip of her cock between your legs. Oh gods, fuck..it’s almost too much, she’s got you so sensitive.
Just when you think it might actually be too much she pulls away completely. “You like this don’tcha?” She asks, hand landing lightly on your ass, rubbing softly as she speaks, then grabbing more insistently, giving your cheek a squeeze before turning to the other one for the same treatment. As she does, you gladly wiggle back against her hand. “uh-huh,” you reply, nodding though she won’t really see that from this angle.
Her hand slides to the middle of your lower back, you feel a finger graze just at the top of the cleft of your cheeks and can’t help a shiver, it almost tickles- almost. A few seconds later, you feel a blunt pressure pressing into you again. A little grunt escapes your throat, and then she’s fully in, fuck it feels so good. “A little faster this time?” you plead over your shoulder.
“I’ll decide that,” she giggles, giving your ass a little slap. But you notice that she does start to thrust a little faster, that cock of hers hitting you in all the right places. “You know I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” she tells you as you push back against her thrusts, trying for whatever friction you can, she’s still not going quite as fast as you’d like.
“A little more? Please?”
Then she pulls out altogether and leaves you there, so exposed. “Is this what you want?” She taunts, and turn to see her stroking it, slowly, a wicked litle grin on her lips. You groan in frustration, never having guessed she would be so evil!
“Yeah! I want it!” You finally cry out in frustration, just wanting her to fuck you already. “Please!” You add. She giggles, gives your ass a squeeze, then a slap. And then another slap, the sting feeling so good now, but it’s still not what you need.
“All right, lets go!” She exclaims, pushing you back down to the trunk hood. “Down you go,” she says, hand firmly on your back as she thrusts into you, quickly and all at once. You gasp and squirm, this is what you needed.
“More, please,” you whine as she pulls back and thrusts again, just as hard, afraid this is just another tease, afraid she’s going to stop.
She doesn’t stop, but actually sets a pace like this, no more taunting no more teasing. “Oh gods…Six,” you whimper as she thrusts into you again and again, that cock of hers hitting everywhere perfectly. It’s almost too much, the friction building as she keeps thrusting, occasionally punctuating with another slap to your ass. You meet her perfectly each time, and within minutes you know you won’t last much longer. You can hear it in Cindy too, her breath Rising in pitch, little groans coming from behind you.
Another minute passes and a hand slips around between your legs, fingers finding your clit, stroking it in little circles and you feel like your legs might not support you much longer. All you can do now is cry out wordlessly as she pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
You rock against Cindy’s hand as she continues thrusting, quickly and steadily. It’s only a matter of seconds before you truly can’t take it anymore and it seems like you’re about to come apart at the seams as you’re finally pushed over that edge. Cindy gives your ass a last slap and starts thrusting more erratically, clearly close herself.
“Don’t stop,” you beg, voice hoarse. All you want to do is ride this wave until it crashes. Gulping for air as you shake and twitch, you finally slump against the car, the stimulation is almost too much, her fingers still buried deep between your legs but you don’t want her to stop. You’re only grateful that she seems to be all right with your slight change in position, you probably couldn’t stand straight right now if Shiva herself commanded it.
Cindy finally collapses herself, her lighter weight falling on your back, breasts pressing rhythmically against you as she gasps for breath. “Woo sugar,” she finally wheezes, “that was really something wasn’t it?” You have to agree but you’re still not quite able to speak and hope she can see or feel you nodding.
A few moments later, you feel her pulling carefully out of you and stepping back. Cool air hits your heated skin and sends a shiver through you as you slowly stand.
“I don’t know about you but a good fuck always leaves me starving. Wanna go out with me and find some grub? We can take the Regalia so I can test her one more time.”
That sounds like the third best idea you’ve heard from her today. “Yeah. I’m starving. Let’s go,” you reply, unspeakably grateful you won’t be driving this time.
Chapter 6: Sara/Rean
Set sometime while Rean is an instructor at the Thor's branch campus but there are no CS3/4 spoilers.
When Rean checked his ARCUS after class, he found he had two messages. Both were from the same person. He had to hold the unit away from his ear as a familiar voice sang out merrily, yoo-hoo! Guess who’s going to be in town this week! I can’t wait to see my favorite former student and how he’s doing following in my footsteps! Keeping those kids on their toes I hope! Well I’ll see for myself soon enough! Ta-ta!
He let out a sigh, head dropping into his hand. Leave it up to Sara not to mention exactly when she would’ve arriving. He forwarded to the next message, finding that she caught her oversight this time. I’ll be arriving on Tuesday! She informed him in the same over-the-top enthusiastic manner.
Tuesday? That was...tomorrow. Aidios help him, of course she didn’t say when on Tuesday.
The next day, Rean sat in his classroom, having just dismissed his students for the afternoon. Being alone, he saw no issue with entertaining the deep yawn that suddenly welled up in his throat. He hadn’t slept well the night before. Or the night before that. Tonight wasn’t looking well either. He poured himself another cup of coffee. Machias would be proud, he thought as he frowned into his mug’s bitter depths and took a sip.
He was about to get started on grading the most recent assignment when a loud female voice called out “Hel-looooo!” and before he had a chance to look up, he was caught in an almost violent hug, the scent of a spicy-sweet perfume wafting into his nostrils. Had he not been leaning on his desk, he surely would have been tackled to the ground under the force.
“Nice to see you too Sara,” he laughed, patting her shoulder and putting down his mug. Miraculously it seemed to have retained its contents.
When they finally let go, Sara stepped back. “Soooooo this is your classroom?"
“Yeah,” he said, glancing around.
“And this is your desk?”
“Observant as always, instructor,” Rean replied drolly.
“Oh don’t worry about that instructor business. I’m not in the payroll for that anymore,” she dismissed with a flip of her hand. “Besides, you’ve joined the ranks yourself! It’s just Sara.”
“Okay...Sara,” he agreed.
“How does it feel to be on this side of the desk?” She asked, perching on the edge of it, smiling at him sweetly.
“It’s, uh definitely different than being on the other side,” Rean admits. “But it’s good. Really good. I’m glad I decided to go this route. I do miss the main campus though.”
“Yeah its a little different, that’s for sure,” Sara replied looking around. As she did, Rean stifled another yawn.
“Well aren’t you a sleepy head!” She teased. Then she looked at him again. “Wait...,” she peered long and hard at his face. “You don’t get enough sleep, do you?"
“A-ha!” I thought so. “And when’s the last time you ate anything? Coffee doesn’t count!” She sang out gleefully, shaking a finger.
“Um,” Rean thought for a minute. “This morning I guess. I had some toast before class. And...coffee,” he finished weakly. “Wait why are you lecturing me about food and coffee? How many times did I find you slumped over a table up to your eyebrows in beer bottles?” He demanded.
“Mmmm,” Sara hummed in non-response. “Do as I say, not as I do!” She added. “I never said I was a good example at following my own advice!”
Rean just groaned.
“Now,” She announced, taking him by the arm. “We are going to get some food in you. In me too and we are going to catch up and then we’re going to do something about your not taking care of yourself.
They were out of the classroom and halfway down the hall when Sara stopped and looked around. “So...where do you go for food here anyway?” She asked, eyebrows scrunched quizzically.
Heaving a noisy sigh, Rean pointed. “The dining hall is that way.”
“Off we go!” Sara sang out.
With Rean’s direction, Sara had dragged him to the hall. It was between meals so there weren’t many options but he piled a sandwich, an apple, a granola bar and a bottle of water on his tray and they took an empty table.
No sooner had they sat down when they were interrupted. “Hey Schwarzer, gonna introduce your visitor?” Randy smirked as he sauntered up to the table and moved to grab a chair turning it to sit backwards.
“Hello,” Sara cooed, standing and offering her hand to shake.
“Randy, this is Sara Valestein, she was-”
Rean was cut off as Randy’s eyes widened in recognition.
“The Bracer?” Randy interjected.
“And the original Class VII homeroom teacher.”
“Nice to meet you Sara. Mind if I join-”
This time Sara interrupted. “Rean and I have some business to take care of,” she replied mysteriously. “But maybe we can all have a drink later?” she added with a wink.
“Why am I suddenly afraid for my liver?” Rean wondered out loud.
“All right well Rean why don’t we head back to your room so we can have that discussion?” Sara announced loudly and reached to pull him from his chair.
“Discussion huh?” Randy quipped with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Well don’t let me interrupt.
“It’s not...like that,” Rean protested, though weakly, trailing off when Randy gives his best “sure, if you say so,” look. He wasn’t interested in drawing out the subject. “Um yeah if you want to have that drink later, sure,” he concluded.
“Sure thing Schwarzer,” Randy replied with a wave.
Rean gathered his purchases and led Sara back down the halls to his room. She quickly pulled him inside and closed the door.
“Well?” He asked. “What did you want to discuss so badly?”
She poked a finger lightly at his sternum. “You,” she said simply.
“Me?” He echoed.
“That’s right, Mister. You’re not taking care of yourself.”
Rean blinked at Sara, disbelieving. Was she serious? How many times had he found her slumped over a pile of beer bottles? How often had he ever seen her eat or drink water?
“Uh, Sara,” he started. “Should you really be one to lecture me about taking care of myself?”
“Nonsense!” Sara laughed. “I can see that you’re run down and I’m worried about you. And I’m going to make sure I get my message across!”
“Okay, okay fine, Rean conceded, hands up in a conciliatory gesture. I’ll...make sure to eat better and get more sleep. I promise. How’s that?”
“Not so fast buster. I don’t think you realize just how serious I am.”
“Mmmhmm. That’s exactly it,” Sara replied pulling out the chair to his small desk and sitting down. She glanced around the room and muttered something to herself that sounded to Rean like “No hairbrush...no ruler...”
“Well,” she continued gleefully, standing again. “I suppose we’ll just have to do this the old school way!”
“Do...what the old school way?” Rean questioned warily.
“A spanking silly! How else am I going to get my point across?”
“You have to be kidding me.”
“Oh no you don’t, I mean every word.”
“And just who was spanking you when you were our teacher?”
“Don’t change the subject,” she replied with an enthusiastic wag of her finger. Sitting down again, she tapped her knee. “Come on, I won’t bite!”
“Er, Sara-“ Rean started to protest but he wasn’t prepared to resist as she reached out, took his arm and pulled him over her lap when he didn’t immediately put himself there.
“Guess I just have to do this myself!” She announced gleefully and soon there was a rain of dull thuds at his ass.
“Okay I didn’t think this fully through,” she decided. “Stand up, stand up!” She sang.
“Instructor!” Rean exclaimed, scrambling to his feet, cheeks burning. He wasn’t sure what she had been on about, but of all the thing she might have guessed, this didn’t even make the list.
“Yeeeeees?” She replied with a wicked curve to her lips.
“What...i...,” Rean stammered in shock, not sure what to think...
“You need to learn to take care of yourself, I told you. Do you want your students to suffer if you start to slide downhill?”
“Er, no? But I’m not going to...”
“Ah-ah,” She wagged her finger once more. You say that now but if you’re not careful...,” she trailed off shaking her head. Before he could protest further, she’d pulled his pants down to his knees and him over her lap again, beginning that rain of thuds once more, though not nearly so dull as last time: cotton boxers did not absorb the same impact as uniform pants.
The blows continued to fall, one cheek then the other, she held him down with her other hand between his shoulders. After several moments, yanking his boxers down to expose skin that was beginning to sting. He yelped as the first smack hit bare, tenderized skin.
“You know they’ll hear you out in the hall if you’re not quiet,” she cooed.
Rean’s face flared even hotter, he struggled to free himself.
“Nope, I’m not finished with you yet!” Sara informed him. “Have to make sure you’ve learned, and I don’t think you have yet!”
He tried to keep his voice low as he protested further b ut the smacks continued to fall, the sting grew with each sharp thwack. No matter how much Rean, protested, it was in vain. He did, though, managed keep fairly quiet. The last thing he wanted was for someone like Randy to walk by and overhear. Aidios, or Major Michael and Aurelia….or any of his students. He wasn’t sure which prospect was worse, so he just focused on not being heard by anyone.
“…the best way I know to get through to anyone. Some people just need a good, embarrassing spank!” Sara was saying when he returned his focus to her words.
Finally, the snacks started to slow, and eventually they stopped all together. His ass was warm and tender, Rean could tell that much before he tried to move.
“There,” Sara declared. “Now up you go. Have you learned your lesson?”
Rean grimaced. “Yeah, the next time you come to visit, I’ll be out of town.”
“Just sleep and feed yourself,” she instructed, reaching to pat his cheek. “At the very least I can say I always did that even if I liked to live it up in other ways!”
“I guess so,” Rean replied, rubbing his ass, scowling at Sara. “I didn’t ask for that.”
“Nope!” She agreed. “But you needed it. You’ll remember it now, won’t you? Even if it’s just to keep me from doing it again?”
“Eh, heh yeah...I guess that’s one way to put it,” Rean agreed.
“Good! Now...why don’t we go find that handsome colleague of yours and see about having a drink?”
All that Rean could manage in response was a sigh.