Chapter 9
William
“Quick, quick, quiiiick,” I splutter, breathlessly fiddling with my key in the door, trying to open it as fast as I can.
And the second the door to my apartment clicks shut behind me, I’m already kicking off my shoes and peeling off my sweater. My hands shake with urgency. I don’t even turn on the main light, just the soft glow of the small lamp in the hallway.
Clothes drop in a frantic trail behind me as I head straight for the bedroom: jeans, briefs, t-shirt, everything.
I know what I’m doing.
And I know I need to do it right now.
By the time I reach my bed I’m completely naked, skin flushed and tingling, my freshly punished bottom still radiating heat with every step.
I yank open the bedside drawer and grab the thick black butt plug I almost never use. It feels heavy in my palm. My breath is already coming fast. I squirt a generous amount of lube onto it, coating every inch, my fingers trembling.
Then without pause I pull out my favorite dildo, the realistic one with the thick veins and extra girth, and lay it on the bed beside me.
I climb onto the mattress on my front, my heart hammering.
My nipples drag against the sheets as I reach back with both hands and spread my sore cheeks wide. The cool air kisses my punished skin and aching cock. I let go of one cheek and with my spare hand press the tip of the lubed plug against my ass hole and push.
“Ahh…mmmmph,” The moan slips out as the thickest part stretches me open.
It burns in the most delicious way, especially on top of the ruler marks Kane left behind.
I keep pushing until it pops fully inside, filling me completely.
My toes curl. Pleasure and discomfort twist together so perfectly I nearly cum right then.
But I can’t orgasm.
Not quite yet.
No before I do what I know I must…
I grab the dildo with one hand and bring it to my mouth. My lips part and I suck the head inside, swirling my tongue around it like I wish I could do for him. I push it deeper, gagging myself on purpose as the memory of the library floods back.
Kane’s stern voice fills my head.
In my fantasy he tells me to suck his cock. No, he commands it.
I bob my head faster, tears pricking my eyes as I choke on the thick silicone. My free hand slides underneath my body. I grip my cock and pulse it. The plug shifts inside me with every rock of my hips, my hand squeezing and flexing against my hard dick.
Everything is working together.
My body, my mind, the perfect storm.
As I picture Kane grabbing me by the ears and roughly working my mouth on his big Daddy dick, the orgasm crashes into me without warning.
My legs shake violently. I cry out around the dildo, gagging harder as waves of pleasure rip through me.
My dick goes extra hard and releases thick ropes of cum as the plug keeps my ass so deliciously full and working hard on my G-spot.
“Fucccccck, cummmmmm, keep cummmmming,” I say, totally lost in the moment. “I’m cumming for you, Dadyyyyy.”
I keep wanking my cock through every aftershock until I’m a trembling, whimpering mess on the sheets.
I lie there for long minutes afterward, cheek pressed to the mattress, dildo still in my mouth, plug buried deep, breathing hard. The high is so intense I start drifting toward sleep right there… naked, stuffed, and utterly spent.
Eventually though I force myself up.
My legs feel like jelly as I stumble to the bathroom and turn on the shower.
Hot water cascades over me. I wash my dick gently and ease the plug out of my tight little ass, wincing at the tenderness of my butt cheeks as they come into contact with my hands.
The marks are vivid red stripes. I trace one with a fingertip and shiver at the memory of how they got there.
After drying off I pull on my softest pink pajamas—the ones with little hearts—and pad to the kitchen. I pour a bowl of cereal and a tall glass of milk, then sit at the small breakfast table. Twist is perched on the chair beside me like a tiny judge.
I eat mechanically yet dreamily, the crunch of cereal loud in the quiet apartment.
I feel… overwhelmed. But in the best and scariest way possible.
My body is satisfied, glowing, almost floating. But my mind won’t stop spinning. I know almost nothing about Kane. Nothing real.
He’s older, commanding, clearly dangerous. The way he moves, the way he speaks, the casual authority he wields… it screams that he’s not a regular guy. Not a visiting lecturer. Not some safe Daddy from the club scene like Charles.
Kane is something else entirely.
The thought sends a fresh flutter of fear through my chest. I finish my milk, rinse the bowl, and carry Twist to bed. I curl up under the covers with him tucked against my chest.
Sleep claims me quickly, but it’s restless… full of dark eyes, strong hands, and the terrifying thrill of not knowing what I’ve gotten myself into.
* * *
The next morning I wake early, nerves already buzzing.
I dress in comfy jeans and an oversized sweater, slip Twist into my backpack for moral support, and head out for an early breakfast at the café across from the Uppington Building.
The same place Davey and I sat yesterday.
It feels safer somehow—familiar, bright, full of normal students and academics.
I order a buttery croissant and a strawberry-banana smoothie, then settle at a window table. The first bite of the warm, flaky pastry is perfect. I sip the smoothie and try to let the normal morning routine calm me.
But something feels… off.
I have the strangest sensation that I’m being watched. My skin prickles. I glance around casually: other patrons reading, typing on laptops, chatting. No one is obviously staring. Still, the feeling won’t go away. My mind spirals.
What if Kane followed me?
What if he has people watching me right now?
What if… what if he’s not a good guy at all?
I set the croissant down, appetite suddenly gone.
Last night felt like a fever dream… intense, erotic, overwhelming.
But in the cold light of morning it hits me fully: I let a complete stranger spank me with a ruler in a public library.
I let him put me on display. I came home and fucked myself senseless thinking about him.
And I know nothing about him.
Kane could be anyone. A criminal. A dangerous man. A freakin’ serial killer.
Whatever he is, Kane might be the kind of person normal boys like me should run from, not run toward. My hands start to shake around my smoothie glass.
I pull out my phone with trembling fingers and open our message thread. My thumbs move before I can overthink it…
WILLIAM: I never want to see you again. It’s too much. I can’t. Please don’t contact me.
I hit send, heart pounding so hard I feel dizzy. Then I power the phone completely off and shove it into my backpack. I leave half the croissant and most of the smoothie behind, grab my things, and hurry out of the café.
The morning streets feel too bright, too loud. Every person who glances my way makes my paranoia spike. I walk faster, almost jogging toward my bike.
What have I done?
I unlocked something inside myself with Kane. Something dark and needy and terrifying. And now I’m running from it as fast as I can.
I pedal home with tears stinging my eyes, the city blurring around me. Twist bounces in my backpack like a silent witness to my panic.
I don’t know if I’m more afraid of Kane… or of how much I already crave him like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
* * *
I don’t go straight home.
My legs pedal on autopilot, but instead of turning toward my apartment building, I steer toward Davey’s neighborhood.
Right now, I need a big dose of Little BFF.
The familiar route calms me a little: the tree-lined streets, the cute row houses, the way everything feels softer and safer over here. By the time I lock my bike outside his charming brick townhouse, my hands have mostly stopped shaking.
Without further ado, I knock on the bright blue door with my heart still racing.
Davey opens it wearing an oversized hoodie and short-shorts, his curly hair piled on top of his head. One look at my face and his smile drops. “William? What’s wrong?”
“Can I crash here for a couple of days?” The words tumble out before I can soften them. “Please? I just… I need to not be alone right now.”
“Of course,” Davey says immediately, stepping aside and pulling me into a hug before I’ve even crossed the threshold. “You never have to ask. Come in, come in.”
Davey’s townhouse is beautiful. High ceilings, big windows, original woodwork restored by his rich parents… but he’s never been snobby about it.
Davey treats the place like a giant cozy fort. There are fairy lights strung everywhere, plush blankets draped over every couch, and the faint smell of vanilla candles. It feels like a hug in building form.
We head straight upstairs to his delightful playroom on the second floor. It’s my favorite room in the entire house: soft pastel walls, a huge beanbag corner, shelves full of stuffies and toys, and a low table perfect for coloring or studying.
Davey closes the door behind us and immediately starts pulling out our Little gear.
“Rompers first,” Davey declares, tossing me a soft pink one with little white pigs on it.
He grabs a blue one with stars for himself.
We change quickly, giggling a little at how ridiculous and wonderful it feels to strip down to onesies in the middle of the day.
I keep my briefs on but wince when the fabric brushes my still-tender bottom. Davey notices but doesn’t comment.
We settle on the giant beanbags with Twist and Hardy, his well-loved bear stuffie.
I pull my knees up and hug Twist tight against my chest. The familiar feel of his fur helps ground me.
“Okay,” Davey says gently, turning to face me. “Talk. And no BS this time. What happened?”
I take a deep breath and let everything spill out…
The club encounter. The library spankings.
The ruler. The way Kane left me standing there exposed and dripping.
The plug and dildo session when I got home.
The terrifying realization this morning that I know almost nothing about him.
The paranoia at the café. Well, it was more than paranoia, I just know it was. And then of course the message I sent.
By the time I finish, tears are sliding down my cheeks.
Davey listens without interrupting, his eyes growing wider and more worried with every detail.
“Oh, William…” Davey scoots closer and wraps his arms around me. “That sounds really intense. And honestly? Scary. He sounds like he’s not just some random Daddy from the club. The way you describe him… the control, the danger… I’m worried about you.”
“I know,” I whisper, burying my face in his shoulder.
“I feel so stupid. One minute I’m this serious PhD student who has his life together, and the next I’m letting a mysterious older man spank me with a ruler in a public library and then pleasuring myself like a wild boy thinking about it. What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Davey says firmly. “You’re a Little who’s been craving real dominance for a long time. But this guy… we don’t know who he is. He could be dangerous. Like, actually dangerous.”
He pulls back and holds my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes. “I will do whatever I can to keep you safe. You can stay here as long as you want. We’ll keep your phone off if you need to. I’ll walk you to seminars. We’ll tell Charles too. He’s protective. You’re not alone in this, okay?”
The relief that floods through me is overwhelming.
I hug Davey tight again, both of us squeezing our stuffies between us. “Thank you. I love you so much.”
“Love you more, dummy,” Davey says, voice thick. Then he pulls back with a determined little smile. “Now. Bad feelings are not allowed in the playroom for long. We’re going to play stuffie hide-and-go-seek before we do any studying this afternoon. Deal?”
I laugh and nod. “Deal.”
We spend the next hour turning the entire second floor into a stuffie battlefield. Hardy hides behind the curtains while Twist seeks, with a lot of help from me crawling around dramatically.
Davey does silly voices for his stuffies and makes up ridiculous rules—“If you find them, you have to give them a kiss and tell them they’re brave for facing their fears!” We giggle until our stomachs hurt, the heavy fear in my chest loosening just a little with every round.
By the time we collapse back onto the beanbags, flushed and happy, I feel more like myself again. The terror is still there, simmering underneath, but it’s no longer choking me.
I feel safe again.
“Study session in an hour?” Davey asks, already pulling out our Bronte notes.
“Yeah,” I say, hugging Twist close. “Let’s do it.”
For the first time since last night, I feel like I might actually be okay. I have my best friend, my stuffie, and a safe place to hide while I figure out what the hell I’m going to do about Kane and how I can keep my life on track.
But deep down, a tiny part of me wonders if powering off my phone was enough.
And whether I actually want it to be…