Training School (BDSM)
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- Votes 35
- Parts 3
MatureOngoing28m
Last published Sat, Dec 31, 2016
This is not a training school for soldiers. This is not a training camp for athletes either. No, this is not a training school for any of the innocent sort. This is a training camp for dominant and submissive students. They are trained to teach and learn discipline. A place where their limits are found and tested. Maybe even a place where they find their life long partners.
"You are mine and there is nothing you can do about it." His voice fierce and dominant. "Well," he chuckled and lightly nibbled on my jaw. "Nothing but accept it."
"Go to hell." I growled.
"Hmm? You don't mean that."
With another open mouthed kiss on my neck, he increased the speed of his pumping fingers into my core. His thumb rolled on my button as I desperately tried not to moan.
"Don't stop yourself, now kitten. I know you feel really, really good down there."
-------
WARNING:
Includes cursing, self harm, and suicidal characters. If uneasy about the topic, please refrain from reading then posting comments about how you don't like it.
This will contain mature scenes and is not advised to readers below 18.
But you're still going to read aren't you?
You nasty!
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"So Professor Jones, does this mean that we are an actual thing now?" "Princess, calling me that will get you in trouble," he grunts. I smiled in response, because he liked it. He liked that I was calling him professor. I think this was what was so exciting about him and I. He was my professor and the idea of fucking each other is a turn on. There was also the fact I had Grayson as well, even though he was the more reserved one, but what's the harm in still having both of them. I moved my hands under his shirt and I felt soft patch of hair, but hard muscle. "Maybe I want to get in trouble," I teased. "I thought you were going to be a good girl?" Grayson interjects. "I never said I would be good all the time," I say, innocently.
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