Reed's Sex Academy

I shift the towel, trying to cover as much of my body as possible. “I’m uh…not decent right now,” I tell him. A more appropriate statement would’ve probably been, “What the hell are you doing here?” But, let’s be honest, I did sign those damn papers without reading anything. It’s probably his right to be here as much as he likes.

He turns toward me, and I gulp, my cheeks burning under his undivided attention as my ass is literally peeking out of this goddamn towel.

“What did Arielle call me when she came into my office?” he asks.

“I don’t…” I try to remember. “Sir?”

“Exactly. Did you not get your onboarding documents?”

I laugh nervously but quickly shut it off, remembering I’m not exactly in a position to be making jokes right now. Is he honestly expecting me to call him sir? I’m twenty-four. He can’t be more than thirty. We’re almost the same age, damn it.

“I didn’t,” I say, my voice way quieter than I intended.

He nods once and fixes me with his gaze as he walks to me. I grip the edges of the towel harder and let out a shaky breath as he gets so close his musky scent mixes with the lilac fragrance of my shampoo.

I don’t move a muscle as he walks behind me, inspecting my nearly naked body from all angles. A hum of approval leaves his throat and a hand reaches out to push my hair away from my shoulder. I shudder at the touch, but I keep silent.

His hands then go to the edges of my towel and gently pull it down until I let go. It falls at our feet, my eyes following the motion.

“Mr. Reed,” I plead, not really knowing what I’m asking for. Why is he suddenly so interested in me?

He stands behind me and his arm snakes around my body, reaching down to touch my warm clit. I gasp, my entire body going taut and loose at the same time. I can feel my wetness being spread around, from my entrance back to my throbbing clit.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have used that thing. What’s he gonna think now? That I was in here, waiting for him to come and fuck me? Shame washes over me as I stand there, waiting for his reaction.

“What were you doing in the shower, Evelyn?” he asks, his voice growing deeper.

“I was… I didn’t…”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” he taunts, but it doesn’t feel like a game. It feels like a threat. And right now, it genuinely scares me enough to think twice about what I should say next.

I clear my throat and bite my lip hard before I speak again. There’s no way in hell I’m telling this man what I was just doing in that shower, though.

“I was just taking a shower. No need to make it weird.”

A hard spank lands on my ass, and I let out a sharp, unexpected cry.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I barely touched you, and you’re dripping wet. What were you doing in the shower?”

Oh, God. My head starts spinning from the adrenaline and I mumble words that just come out of my mouth without knowing what I’m actually saying.

“I just… I needed to relax. I had a long day…”

“And so you…?”

“I…used the thing on the shelf, damn it,” I blurt out, thankful we’re not standing face to face right now. If we were, I’d probably be melting from the shame.

He sighs and removes his finger from my clit. My body trembles in response, secretly longing for it to come back.

“Turn around,” he commands, the disappointment in his tone getting me strangely upset about it too.

I comply and, to my surprise, instead of avoiding his gaze, I square my shoulders and look him dead in the eye.

“So, is this what you do with all the new girls? You get them in here and fuck them?” I hiss with sarcasm. “Dream job, right?”

And there it is. My coping mechanism. I think I was about ten years old when I realized spitting venom down other people’s throats made my pain hurt a little bit less. I never learned how to control it. And now that I’m an adult, it usually comes out in the worst possible situations. Like this moment.

Mr. Reed clenches his jaw and wraps his fingers around my neck, squeezing so tight the veins on his forearm threaten to explode.

I can’t breathe, and panic settles deep in my core. But the throb on my clit resumes. My eyes widen in shock at the pleasure creeping up on me while I’m supposed to be fighting for my goddamn life.

“You have no idea what the fuck I do, little girl.” He looks down at my lips and then back into my eyes. “So I suggest you shut that pretty mouth, now, before I shove a gag down your throat. Give me your hands.”

My body moves on its own accord, extending both of my hands in front of me as he releases the pressure on my airway and I suck in a long, panicked breath.

He’s not wrong. I have no idea what he does.

I knew about sex academies from the girls at the salon where I used to work. But I never asked for the specifics.

Why he’s doing this or what his day-to-day looks like…I don’t know.

He unbuckles his belt, pulls it out of his pant loops, and wraps it around my wrists. He pushes the prong through the tightest hole, squeezing my hands together so there’s no room to move them.

“A-are you going to hurt me?”

He forcefully turns me around and spanks my ass again.

I gasp. My cheeks burn from the pain.

“I am,” he says, as if what he just did isn’t confirmation enough. “And you’ll be a good girl and take it, Evelyn. You lie.” Spank. “You speak without being asked.” Spank. “And you don’t address me the way you’ve been told.” Another spank.

I can’t feel my ass anymore. This is not the sexy kind of spank that makes you get off. This is the kind that, for the first time in my life, makes me want to think twice before I say anything else.

Another spank. Harder. Sharper. More painful than the last.

“Y-yes,” I blurt out. “Sir,” I quickly add. “Yes, I understand.”

It hurts, but my clit is throbbing. And my wetness has spread all over the inside of my thighs.

“Good. Now get on all fours.”