Page 12 of B is for Baby Me (Classes in Kink #1)

Chapter eleven

A Private Lesson

Fletcher

I deserve a pat on the back, if I do say so myself. We’ve only begun our long game strategy and I’ve already scored a point with Bennett Senior. It’s obvious that JR is the apple of his father’s eye, and I can certainly see why. What I hadn’t expected was how much I would enjoy Roscoe’s Bar and Grill, as well as the raucous group of football players that gather there. Watching the game on the big screen with them had been a riot. The athletes had immersed themselves into the televised game, convinced that the NFL stars could somehow hear—and needed—their advice. Their shouts and groans are still ringing in my ears. I won’t soon forget that bacon double cheeseburger, either. Best. Burger. Ever.

Speaking of mouthwatering…

Tonight’s lesson plan is for a student body of one, and what a delectable student body it is. I’ve been looking forward to stripping JR bare—from the tips of his oversized feet to the top of his curly blond head. I can picture the miles of blushing skin stretched tight across his spectacular muscles… The exquisite definition that hours on the football field would give to his quads and calves, not to mention those gorgeous glutes…

A ringing doorbell interrupts my thoughts. It’s time to play another long game. JR’s cock certainly qualifies in that regard.

As I greet my nervous sub, I’m shocked once again by the sheer mass of the man. “Welcome, Mr. Bennett. What is your height?” I’ve always wondered.

“Six-five, sir.” JR stands on the porch, frozen in place.

“Weight?” I ask.

“About 265.” He blushes as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Condom size?”

His eyes grow round. “Um... I dunno. I haven’t tried those yet.”

“Never mind, I was simply curious. Please come in.” I gesture for him to enter my home. As a rule, I limit sexual encounters to neutral territory—such as kink clubs or hotels—but I’m willing to adjust to JR’s needs. A more intimate location should put him at ease… and hopefully make him more pliable.

As JR steps into my living quarters, he clutches his backpack, gazing around the room with wide eyes. “What are we doing tonight, Professor?”

“I’ve prepared a lesson in submission for you,” I tell him. “With a bonus study in subspace, if all goes well.”

His forehead creases. “Subspace? What’s that?”

Hmm, how shall I describe it? “Think of it as Xanax for a sub. An extreme stress-reliever, like a bull-moose tranquilizer.”

“Um... I’m really not that anxious.” He grips his backpack, glancing over his shoulder at the door.

Not anxious? A parachuter with a fear of heights would look less nervous. “Your only concern for this evening is to obey me. My job is to continue earning your trust. Have I not proven myself trustworthy so far?”

JR turns back toward me, sincerity oozing from his pores. “I do trust you, Professor. I swear.”

“Good, now give me your coat. Leave your shoes and backpack by the door.” I hold out my hand, and he hurries to take off his jacket and sneakers. After tucking away his personal items, I lead my student toward tonight’s ‘classroom’. The football player nips at my heels as though attached to me by a leash. It’s quite gratifying, actually. I’ve always wanted a puppy.

As we reach the doorway to my converted family room, JR jerks to a stop, his eyes bugging out. “What the...?”

His reaction might be warranted. “Welcome to my Den of Iniquity—a playroom full of toys for obedient boys, plus a few for the naughty ones, as well.” I stroke the shaft of a leather whip that’s mounted to the wall.

He gulps, taking a step backward. “I’ve, um… gotta go.”

“Nonsense.” I grab his hand and yank him into the room. “I often think of this as my ‘private lab’, though I’ve yet to conduct any experiments here. You, young Bennett, shall be my first live test subject.”

JR darts another look at the whip, then side-eyes me. “Why am I starting to feel like Frankenstein’s monster?”

“Relax.” I smirk. “Your whips-and-chains limit is still intact. Collecting BDSM paraphernalia is simply a hobby. Simon calls it my version of a stamp collection.”

“Simon?” His eyebrows raise.

“A dear friend and mentor,” I explain as I guide him through my private playspace. “He introduced me to the BDSM lifestyle many years ago. He trained me as a dom himself. Perhaps you’ll meet him one day.”

JR’s cheeks turn pink. “Are the two of you, um... together? Does he know about me?”

“That he does.” I pat him on the arm. “And no—Simon and I aren’t sexually intimate. Too many doms in the kitchen, as it were. You’re the only one I’m sexually active with at the moment.”

He looks down at his stockinged feet. “Could you tell me if that changes, sir? I know we’re not dating or anything, but I’d still feel weird if I was, y’know… a side-thing.”

I tip up his chin with a finger, waiting until he meets my eyes. “If I want to play with other men, Bennett, I’ll be upfront with you about it. We may not be exclusive in a traditional sense, but our relationship is still based on trust. Wouldn’t you agree?”

The Golden Gladiator nods, smiling softly. “Yeah, and thanks. I know I can count on you.”

“I value your trust. Let’s return to the lesson at hand.” I link my arm through his, leading him further into the room. “We’ll begin by exploring my collection. As your dom, it’s my responsibility to educate you on common tools and terms within the BDSM lifestyle.”

“OK, Professor,” JR says.

I stop, folding my arms across my chest. “Lesson One: A sub often refers to his dom as ‘Sir’—with a capital S, I might note. Therefore, I would ask that you call me Sir during our scenes unless I say otherwise.”

“Yes, Sir.” His eyes widen.

“In addition, a sub often kneels for his dom or shows other deferential mannerisms, such as a bowed head, averted eyes, or hands placed behind his back.” I mimic the postures as I enter teacher-mode. “I’m unclear if this will provide stress relief for you, so let’s experiment and allow the results to guide us, shall we?”

“Yes, Prof—I mean, Sir,” he says.

“I reward obedience and punish disobedience.” I fondle a nearby paddle.

JR opens his mouth and then closes it, though a mischievous glint remains in his eye.

Interesting... I see spanking in our future.

Gesturing toward a corner of my ‘lab’, I tell him, “Let me show you some of my favorite pieces. This is a bondage bed, and here’s a St. Andrew’s Cross. Over there is a sex swing, and this is a sex chaise—it’s suitable for many positions, according to the brochure. I’m anxious to try it out, aren’t you?” I glance back at my student, who has stopped in the middle of the room, a shell-shocked look on his face.

“Calculus, Sir,” he mutters. “I’ve got to... math.”

“Come along, Bennett. You’ve seen the furniture, now let me show you the toys in my collection.” I grip the football player by his muscular forearm, dragging him toward a large armoire. “Ignore the floggers—they’re on your Red List, though I have other items you might enjoy. I’ve got a wide selection of dildos and fleshlights, and these are my accumulation of prostate wands. Butt plugs in various sizes… some nipple clamps… a few gags and restraints, plus an assortment of cock rings. That reminds me, I have a gift for you.”

He swallows audibly. “A gift? Um... you shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense. I had it custom made. The craftsmanship is exquisite.” I pull out a leather strap with detailed engraving and several metal snaps.

“A bracelet, Sir?” JR asks.

“A cock strap, Bennett,” I say.

His knees buckle. “D’ya mind if I sit down? I’m feeling a little dizzy.”

“Of course. Sit on the chaise while I get you some water.” No wonder he’s light-headed—the way his dick is being strangled by his jeans. I intend to solve that problem, but first... I grab a bottle from the mini fridge and hand it to my sub.

He clutches it with shaky hands. “Thank you, Pr—Sir.”

I sweep the hair off my student’s forehead, letting him lean against my side. While he gulps down the water, I run my fingers through his silky strands. “Why don’t you lie back, relax, and let me take care of you for a while?”

“OK. That sounds nice, Sir. Thank you.” He lets out a deep breath as he reclines against the cushions.

“Such good manners.” I hum in approval. “The doors are locked, Bennett, and I want to see you naked. What color are you?”

His eyes light up. “Can I see you naked?”

I give my eager sub a little wink. “That may be a reward for another time. I don’t want you to get distracted from tonight’s lesson. Answer my question: what color are you?”

“I’m green,” JR says, then bites his lip, his cheeks turning a pinkish hue.

Thank god. It may not be the public nudity scene that I’d hoped for, but I’ll still get to strip Bennett bare.

“Very good. Lift your hips while I take these pants off of you.” I pull the denim down his legs, then reach for his boxer briefs. When he raises his hips, I pull off his undergarment.

He plays nervously with the hem of his shirt. “Do you want me to take this off, too?”

More than he could possibly know . As I kneel at my student’s feet, I nod, watching with bated breath. If only I could record this moment.

JR reaches an arm over his head, grabbing the back of his t-shirt. As he tugs off the garment, his muscular torso is revealed inch by inch in all of its godlike glory. Dropping the t-shirt to the floor, he spreads his legs so they straddle either side of the chaise. He reclines his powerful body onto its leather surface, his head pillowed on one arm.

I stand up slowly, raking my eyes over the Adonis. He’s glorious. A masterpiece in the flesh. His marble-hard muscles quiver under my gaze, his magnificent cock semi-erect against his chiseled abdomen. He holds his breath as he gazes up at me, waiting for my approval.

“You are beautiful, Mr. Bennett,” I whisper to him.

“Will you kiss me?” he whispers back.

“Oh, Bennett.” How could I possibly refuse?