unautremonde: (nc17)
[personal profile] unautremonde
Title: Teacher's Pet
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dom/Ian
Summary: There's a lesson to learn...
Disclaimer: I'm lying through my teeth, here, don't believe a word. It's called ficition. Or sick fantasies, depending on who's calling it.
Author's note: blaming this one on [livejournal.com profile] not_yet_tamed and [livejournal.com profile] sparktastic, because these two are a very very bad influence. Thank you [livejournal.com profile] rynalwyn for the quick beta.


TEACHER'S PET

Young teacher the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be
Inside her there's longing
This girl's an open page
Book marking - she's so close now
This girl is half his age

-Sting-



Dom remembers what it was like to be in school, how much fun it was to sit and daydream, to be the class clown and never listen to the teacher closely. Dom wasn't what you would have called a model student.

Now, he sits with his back straight, posture as perfect as he can hold it, chin lowered and eyes fixed onto his trembling hands. The lesson is worth his attention, patience something that doesn't come naturally to him but something he's more than eager to learn. He tries not to move, tries to hold in his breath and be as silent as he possibly can, hands in tight fists, resting tensely on his thighs. He's concentrating hard, concentrating on not moving, on not disturbing the lesson that is taking place, hoping that if he sits still and waits, pays attention, then it'll be worth it in a way it never seemed to be during his teenage years.

He reaches in, thinks hard and tries to conjure up memories from science lessons, theories learned and demonstrated endlessly. Names are popping up, Pythagoras and other dead Greek guys, but try as he may, he can't find it in him to not mess up. He blows a frustrated sigh and shifts in his seat, squirms, unable to hold himself still a moment longer.

There's the wet pop of a sound, Ian's red red lips smacking together as they release Dom's penis. Dom swears under his breath, frustration running deep through his veins as he looks at Ian's disapproving frown just beyond the tip of his painfully hard cock. Ian shakes his head and looks sternly at Dom, his eyes twinkling and belying the reprimanding tone of his voice.

"Now. I told you to sit still, Dominic. I said that I would teach you patience and I'm sorry to say that you have failed again. You are a most difficult student, you know that?"

Dom breathes slowly, in and out, calming breaths. His hands are still fisted, he is still trembling all over and trying to control himself, trying not to give into the urge to lean forward and claim Ian's mouth. His cock twitches as the soft breath of Ian's tsk tsk washes over the tip but he doesn't move, just tenses in place and keeps his voice at a low murmur.

"I'm sorry, sir. I have been a bad boy."

Ian smiles and nods, his hand coming up and the tips of his fingers barely grazing the inside of Dom's thigh, the touch excruciatingly close and yet denied.

"You have been a bad boy indeed. I think I will have to punish you for this, Dominic. If you can't do as I say now, then it is my duty to make sure you will in the future. There must be a way to teach you some discipline."

Dom shivers at the word discipline, remembering endless hours spent in detention. His breath shudders to the rhythm of Ian's fingers now wrapped loosely at the base of his cock, almost but not quite touching his balls. Ian isn't moving, just looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for a sign, for Dom's agreement to being punished.

"Detention?" Dom whispers incredulously. Ian smiles wider, licking his lips and leaning imperceptibly forward, mouth drawing even closer to Dom's penis. His words wrap around it, hot and constricting, as efficient as Ian's hand now moving faster.

"Oh, I'm a little partial to more old fashioned ways myself. A good spanking always drives the lesson home."

Dom comes.
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