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Tommy
I hear Young-gi stand up behind me, so I take off running. But he’s faster than I expect, his pounding, running footsteps catching up frighteningly fast, and there’s no one to hear my undignified, startled scream as he grabs me from behind and starts dragging me back toward his desk. The chase is over practically before it began, but goddamn, it floods me with adrenaline like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
I grab his arm that’s around my waist, and I throw my weight around, but I don’t scratch at him, don’t hit or kick.
I don’t actually want to get away, I just want to see if he’s serious.
“You want my attention, Tommy?” he demands, dark and promising, sounding real fucking serious to me. “You don’t need to act out to get it, but if that’s all you know how to do, if that’s how you communicate, that’s fine. I’m listening.”
“Fuck you!” I shout, my pulse pounding and my adrenaline racing. The fact that he just literally chased me down and is dragging me back to his office is doing something to my rage–breaking it down into something else. I’m on edge, panting forair, my thoughts are stuttering, caught up in the fact that I’ve never felt more wanted.
He pulls me, thrashing and shouting, back to his desk, but I shut up quick when he pushes me down onto it, bending me over it so my elbows are pressed into the wood. My wide eyes fly to his laptop and I see a panel of faces, all digital attendees to this meeting. But Young-gi’s panel is just a black screen and an icon, his camera turned off. His microphone widget has a red strike over it, meaning his microphone is off, too.
Regardless, I hesitate, unsure how I feel about being right here. Young-gi presses one big hand to my lower back and reaches over me with his other.
With the press of a button, his microphone comes back on. “Understood. And human resources?”Click, he turns it off again, letting someone else take over the meeting, now.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I mutter, still not sure about doing this on the desk with the computer so close. But I don’t say red.
“You want my attention so much,” Young-gi practically purrs at me. “I bet it burns. But you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll give you what you’re asking for, Tommy.”
“What–” I lick my dry lips, not looking up at him, letting him press me down against the desk. “What am I asking for?”
“You said it last night,” he murmurs. “What was it you said you needed, Tommy?”
My whole body goes rigid, including my dick. My pulse fluctuates, and I break into a cold sweat. “M-more bruises.”
Goddamn, I’m a sick motherfucker.Because fuuuuck, I like where this is going. A chase that ends with a spanking? Fuck, I think I just unlocked a new wet dream.
“That’s right. So that’s what you’ll get. But your jeans blocked most of the impact last time, didn’t they? You only got one small bruise. Do you want more?”
I think I’m going to throw up, and also piss myself and also maybe cum. I feel like that, but obviously not literally, I’m just a fucking mess is what I’m saying. But I’m not stupid, and I know what he’s telling me to do.
That corner time feeling, that timeout haze, descends on me and it’s almost orgasmic and fatal at the same time. I might be having a stroke.
With shaking fingers, I reach down and unbutton my pants. I tremble down to my bones, through my chest and lungs, as I push the denim down.
Young-gi’s thumbs slip under the waistband right before I do so, and he holds my underwear in place, so that I end up bent over his desk with my pants around my thighs but my white briefs still on, feeling all kinds of small and humiliated and into this like some kind of fucking freak.
But maybe he’s getting to me, getting in my head, because I don’t resist nearly as hard as I should. I just put my elbows on the desk, and let my head hang on my shoulders.
I’m silently asking for it, begging for it, and he reads the unspoken lines of my body language; he knows what I want.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I wait there for him to give me what I asked for.
“This boy’s been wanting my attention all day,” Young-gi says his filth so smooth, one hand cupping my ass. “Been wanting a spanking all day, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Were you feeling anxious, Tommy?” he asks, but when I open my mouth to answer thatfuck no,andfuck you,his hand cracks down on my ass hard, and all that comes out of my mouth is a startled, horny shout. “Were you feeling needy? Insecure?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I grit through my teeth. “And get the fuck on with it already.”
“Oooh, a tough guy, hm?” Young-gi laughs. Then hesitates. Suddenly, he reaches over me and presses a button, restarting his microphone. “That’s what we decided last quarter; what are the projections compared to the actual data?”
Goddamn, he’s good.I can’t believe he is still paying attention to what’s being said. He’s superhuman.
