“Yes, Sir.” Fingers shaking slightly, I do as he says, leaning the phone against a coffee mug, then standing in front of it.
Colton nods, and I open my slacks, pull them and my briefs down.
“Do you think anyone else will be able to see it?” he asks.
“If you talk like that, you’ll get me hard, and I won’t be able to put it on.”
“We wouldn’t want that.”
Luckily, though the thought does turn me on, my dick is playing nice. It takes me a moment to open it and fit it around my cock, careful not to pinch any skin when I snap it closed. It’s big enough to fit me soft, but there’s no getting hard in this thing, which, clearly, is the point. I’m going to want to. It’s going to be torture, and Colton is going to love every second of it.
“Fuck, you look so pretty. I wonder how long I can make you wear that,” he says huskily.
“However long you wanted…I would listen, Sir. Because I like to be good for you.”
The smile he gives me rivals the sun in its brightness, and I still can’t believe how often it’s focused on me.
“You’re so fucking good for me. I don’t think you understand just how much I want you.”
No, I don’t, but I know how much I want him, and if it’s anything close, we’re in trouble.
“I wish I’d given you a plug too, but this will have to work for now. Don’t take it off.” There’s a place in it for a lock, but Colton didn’t leave one, so I know he’s trusting me.
“I won’t, Sir.”
“I know you won’t. Pull your pants up. I’ll see you soon.”
I nod. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re very welcome, boy.”
And then his face is gone, and I miss it instantly. How can I miss something so much that I just saw? That I just kissed and touched last night?
I try to put him out of my mind while I get dressed again.
It feels slightly heavy on me. Or maybeheavyisn’t the right word, but it’s clear something’s there. I’ve never worn a cock cage before, certainly never in the middle of the day at work. I look at my groin as I move around, trying to figure out if anyone can see it. I hate that the thought of being caught wearing it makes an eager thrill build inside me.
“Stop this,” I tell myself. “Stop obsessing. You have a job to do.” Plus, these thoughts are really fucking inappropriate. It’s not that I want my students to know. That’s not my thing, but teasing about it does more for me than expected.
I manage to get my shit together and head to the classroom. The cage feels weird and noticeable each time I take a step, though I know people can’t tell I’m wearing it.
“Hi, Professor Valentine,” a student says walking by, my face flaming as if she knows, as if she can see what I’m wearing.
“Oh, um, hello.”
I’m stopped three times on the way to the classroom, which isn’t typical, but of course it would happen today. There are a couple of students there early, sitting and working, because of course there would be.
I continue to prepare my lesson, practically having to bite my cheeks to keep from smiling. Is it obvious? Are they wondering if I’ve lost my mind, grinning like a fool for no apparent reason? But there is a reason, and that reason is Colton.
The minutes tick by, closer and closer to class beginning, more and more students filing into the room. Each time the door opens, my eyes are drawn to it, wondering if it’s going to be Colton, needing it to be him, but it isn’t. This istorture, and there’s no doubt in my mind he’s doing it on purpose. He’s never the last one in class, but he will be today. I’d bet money on it.
Finally, just as I’m about to begin, the door opens and there he is. Ifeelmy face heat, know I probably look like someone should take a fire hose to me to put me out.
Colton gives me that smirk he has, the one that’s filled with innuendo from a man that’s clearly up to no good. I whip my head in the other direction, hoping like hell it’s not too obvious and wishing I could crawl to him right now and be his perfect little hole.
“Sorry, Professor Valentine,” he says. “I had something really important come up this morning.”
Oh God. What is he doing? What amIdoing, I wonder, before I say, “I hope everything went well?”
