Bullying Teacher

Picking up where book 4 left off, in the last installment of Bullying Teacher, Darien must find a way to break through Beau's silence and insecurity to finally get the man to see their connection. He's been working on his teacher for weeks but Beau just can't seem to understand just how much he truly cares.

Darien hunts down the man that hurt his teacher but he still faces a dilemma. Frustrated with Beau's continued refusal to reach out to him in times of need, Darien decides a proper punishment is in order, enlisting three of his very muscular, large friends to help assist in the night's lesson.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published April 15, 2016.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 25, 2016
on December 25, 2016

Theresa rated it it was amazing

Shelves: keepers
4.5 stars Really good humiliation smut. Awesome DP scene. Syrupy sweet ending.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Pulling a cigarette free, Darien lit it up in the hall the moment he stepped outside Beau’s classroom. His teach was trying to get some food down and he just needed to get the fuck out and breathe for a second. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something, and scream, and hunt down and destroy the fucker that had hurt his Beau. Instead, he was going to smoke for a minute then go back in and pretend he wasn’t a fucking mess inside so that the blond could feel safe.

Why the fuck hadn’t Beau called him?

He looked over to where Roland was typing on his phone, the man doing his magic with the guys back at their office to find every bit of information available on Collin Hayward. Darien hadn’t bothered to tell Beau that the business he had started when he was back in high school involved the finding of sensitive information and then the blackmailing of people that gave a fuck about if that information was shared. He had started the company with a few ex-military friends, some he had gone to school with, some who he knew from other connections. Once, he had thought he’d be using them just to find out if his father was looking to fuck with his life again. Now he had a feeling he might have to see if Roland knew how to hide a body depending on how bad the night went.

“Do you want me to call in a doctor?”

Darien shook his head sharply. “Not unless he asks for one.”

“Boss, he was practically catatonic when we got here. For all we know, his brain took a bruising from that hit to his face.”

Blowing a steady stream of smoke, Darien didn’t bother to answer. His teach could take a punch. He had seen him take worse at the hands of Blake and his bitch friends and hadn’t missed a fucking beat. No, his teach had gotten down on his knees, sucked him off like a pro, and then rode his fingers until he came. Pain was not a deterrent for the blond but an aphrodisiac. If Beau wanted a doctor, he’d ask. It was one of the many rules they had set up to make sure the blond wasn’t getting himself in too deep. Except, even with everything Darien had done, Beau had still managed to get hurt the second he was out of his sight.

Beau wouldn’t let him hire a bodyguard. It had been a huge sore spot for Darien, one that he was pretty sure was about to blow up after this. He just wanted to have a familiar guy with his teach, someone he could trust to make sure nothing went down when he couldn’t be there. But Beau thought he was being silly. The man didn’t want people thinking he was someone special or some stupid shit like that. But Beau was special. His teach was his fucking life and today had been a new kind of hell for Darien when the man hadn’t shown up for dinner.

He shouldn’t have let him leave without a bodyguard. He should have locked the man up in the fucking house and made him quit his shitty job. There was just something about Beau, something in his eyes that called to certain individuals to feed his need for pain. It made them want to hurt him, use him, and when his pretty teach was in the right headspace, Beau loved ever second of it and begged for more. But that was only when he was in that headspace and with someone that actually gave a fuck enough to figure out what he liked.

Tears. Fucking tears in those beautiful blue eyes, and not in a sexy way. No, in a fucking helpless way that wrenched Darien’s heart too painful to fathom. Beau could take a fucking punch but this thing, whatever had happened, it had hurt him in a way pain didn’t. He was doing his damndest to not imagine just how exactly that could have been.

“I gotta make some calls,” he finally said, crushing his cigarette beneath his heel and scraping it into the tile. “I want that fucker found, and I want him brought here tonight.”

“Here?” Roland looked up, pulling a second phone out while he continued typing one-handed on the first. “The school?”

Darien nodded, ignoring the questioning look his head of security was sending him. He needed to make sure that whatever had happened hadn’t fucked up his pretty teach forever. Beau had a special kind of wiring, one that demanded the right knowledge and a skilled touch. He knew the longer the problem stretched on and festered, the harder it would be to get Beau feeling like himself again. He wanted things taken care of asap. The fact that part of it involved beating the shit out of the deadman that had touched his Beau was just a total perk.

“We got him,” Roland called out before the boy could leave, pushing off the wall. “He just used his credit card in a restaurant less than twenty minutes away.”

“Danny?”

“Already on the way with Jordan. How do you want this guy brought in, boss?”

Darien considered, eying the picture Roland held up on the screen of his phone. “Keep him pretty. I want to fuck him up myself. Let me know when they get him here, but not in front of the teach.”

Roland nodded, texting as Darien spoke. “The guys dug up some more shit on him. Hayward was in a heavy scene about five years back. Used to frequent an underground club. Few regulations, lots of drugs. They were known for some pretty fucked up doms. A young man ended up dead and the place was shut down. Looks like Hayward’s aunt threw some money at some people and no one is saying shit.” He glanced up when Darien growled, fixing the boy with a look. “Hey, this is good news. With info like this, you have this guy by the balls.”

Darien just grunted, fighting back his anger and the pit of seething emotion beneath it. “You remember that kid I asked you to keep an eye on a few weeks back? Sutor’s brother, Rich? Did he ever get back to us on that thing we discussed?”

Roland nodded, already flipping through his other phone. “He seemed agreeable enough to it. Clean record. Able to listen.”

“I want him down here.” Hopefully, it would fix it.

In that moment, he felt like he was fighting fire with fire while holding onto the foolish hope the place wouldn't burn down. But that was what Darien did. Every day he pushed forward, demanded the best from himself and everyone around him, and he prayed he wouldn’t trip and be stopped flat. Being with Beau had changed that. He had been allowed to take a beautiful soul and feed it, nurture it and give his teach everything the man could ever desire and he had felt at peace from it. Until someone had tried to take his teach away from him. Now Darien was back to trying to keep ahead of the consequences at breakneck speed while hoping he wouldn’t crash.

He had to suck it up. Push through and keep his eye on the prize along with every other cliche fucking saying that would help him get through this. Not for him but for Beau. His teach needed him strong. Darien didn’t feel strong; he felt absolutely out of control. The one man he gave a fuck about had been assaulted and he hadn’t been able to do a thing. He hadn’t even known until hours later. It didn’t matter what he did to this Hayward dick in retribution, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had failed Beau, that he could fail him again at any time. He could wrap the blond in fucking bubble wrap and order him to stay at his feet but Beau was going to pursue the things that brought him joy even when pain swiftly followed.

Sighing, he lit up another cigarette. He didn’t take pain as well as Beau did. He didn’t like to feel pain; he liked to push past it and let it spur him into action. Watching his pretty teach take pain was an experience unmatched by any other. The man was beautiful—strong in such a way he was never going to be, and so fucking beautiful. The man embraced the good and the bad, the pleasure and pain, and he transformed it into something beyond with his own body. Beau was fucking magic and didn’t even know it.

It didn’t matter how hard Darien pushed himself. Life wasn’t scripted and there was always something waiting in the dark to try and prey on the weak and unlucky. He could only protect his teach to the best of his ability and hope that Beau would be able to take the burden of pain when he failed. He’d be able to carry his teach through after, but he couldn’t change the fucking world that would break the man in the first place.

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Bullying Teacher

Weeks later, now living with his wealthy student, Beau has lost himself in his relationship with Darien. Full of doubts and insecurity, not to mention a blossoming realization of his true feelings for his muscular master, things go bad in the matter of a day when a new professor arrives.

Collin Hayward has never met Beau, but he knows men just like him, or so he seems to think. Cornered and used, Beau doesn't know if telling Darien is worth the loss of the one good thing in his life.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published April 15, 2016.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on March 3, 2017
on December 25, 2016
on April 25, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Eyes sliding slowly around the room, Beau tried and failed to relax in the huge bathroom of marble, stainless steel and glass he was in. It was very open, very spacious and he felt both small and exposed whenever he stepped inside the luxurious but sterile room. That was helped by the fact that all the blinds on the floor to ceiling windows had been left open, the early morning light bouncing off each shining white, silver and black surface. Outside the window, an expansive green lawn could be seen, the grounds looking more like they belonged to a golf course than surrounding a person’s home. Or should he say mansion? His student called it home but Beau was fairly certain the only way to classify the building was as a mansion.

He slowly stripped his new silky pajamas off, his eyes drawn to the mirrored wall where he could see himself reflected clearly. From the angle, it looked like he was outside standing on the lush grass instead of the cool marble tile. Slender, toned and lithe, Beau’s blue eyes couldn’t tear away from the red marks wrapping around his thighs and hips in faded slashes. He was always so surprised to see the marks on his creamy flesh in the light of dawn, how they had come to be there feeling like a foggy, heated dream of the evening before. He traced over a thin red welt that ran right across his left nipple, his body jolting as he remembered how he had earned it. Darien had said he was just too pretty, that he had been begging for it so bad the last time he had shown up to class with his pretty teach. The ruler was the only way to deal with such a bad teacher.

It had been a little over two weeks since he had moved in with his student and Beau still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or seconds away from ruining his life.

Stepping around the jacuzzi tub that took up the entire length of the windowed wall, Beau set the electronic shower. The thing could turn into a sauna with a push of a button but he wasn’t the type to indulge in such extravagances. The multiheaded jets that hit him in all the right spots was far more than he was used to. The water hot and steamy, he slipped into the spray, his golden blond hair quickly drenched as he was lost in the sounds and sensations of the shower.

It didn’t matter how much the glass steamed up, Beau still felt exposed, still felt like he was being observed through the large open windows of the bathroom. He wasn’t a vain man even if he was beautiful. He had used to hate how girly he looked, how women would refuse to date him because they thought he was prettier than them. Now he prized his beauty only as much as it gained him the attention of the one person he didn’t want to look away from him. He could be beautiful for Darien. If it kept the young man holding him tight and tying him up, Beau would be as pretty as possible.

There was a camera on the other side of the glass shower wall. He wasn’t sure exactly where, but Darien had insisted when he had first showed him the bathroom, pointing vaguely in the direction. It had been a terrible problem, one Beau had found worse in the mornings when he woke hard and Darien was still asleep. He turned his back to the windowed wall where the camera was supposed to be, one of his hands lightly bracing on the shower wall while his other moved down to his crack, his fingers probing into his hot, tight flesh still sore from the evening before. Darien wouldn’t be up yet, the boy rarely rising before ten am, but Beau had classes to teach and a job to get to. He’d have to wait until after the school day was over to feel the brunette's claiming touch and get proper relief for the ache already building inside him. It didn’t stop him from driving his fingers deep inside his entrance, bending forward while gasping and putting himself on display for Darien just in case the boy did wake and look at the footage he kept of the bathroom.

That Darien had expressly forbidden him from coming without him present to see only made him harder.

Beau bit his lip, gasping softly under the sound of water hitting his flesh and the tile. It was only the second time he was trying this, still shy since having moved into the large mansion with his student. There weren’t a lot of places where he was alone, Darien usually right next to him. The idea of the boy watching him masturbate in the shower when he wasn't supposed to was intense for him. He wasn’t even sure if there was really a camera. He wasn’t sure if Darien even looked at it if there was and if anything could be seen past the steam. But touching himself in such an open, spacious room felt hot like anyone could just walk by and see.

He really wanted Darien to see him. Really wanted the boy to know he was thinking of him with every plunge of his fingers into his passage.

His calves straining, he spread his legs wider on the slightly coarse stone floor that kept him from slipping. He clenched around his fingers, groaning lowly only to cover his mouth. Noises still made him feel like he was crossing a line and he could only allow himself so much before he got too shy. If Darien had been there, it would have different, but alone, Beau’s courage was very limited. Not that it was courage that had him riding his own fingers and whimpering desperately under his breath with each stroke that failed to hit his prostate. No, it was a mix of need and shame and giddy anticipation of the many things Darien had already done to him and would hopefully continue to do.

There was a noise under the sounds of the shower spray, Beau stilling his movements and pressing his face against the warming tile. His lashes dripping droplets of water, he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of his tight entrance when no new sounds were heard. He wanted to pretend he was being watched, his body flushed and tingling at the very thought. Darien had a slew of nameless servants that breezed through rooms silent as could be. On more than one occasion, he had been in the middle of a session with his student only to catch a glimpse of a person watching as they stepped by the door.

Beau groaned lowly, his muscles straining as he imagined those faceless people watching him now. He came with a cry, his passage clenched painfully tight around his fingers as he shoved them as deep as they could reach. Moaning, he ran his tongue over the immaculate tile wall, wishing he had a dildo or just his very large student to take him properly.

Hell, even alone he was getting messed up. He had to wonder if it was Darien doing it to him or just the craziness inside that had been allowed to be let lose.

The shower door clicked open, Beau gasping and staring straight ahead at the shower tile as cool air rushed into the enclosed space. For a frozen eternity, he questioned who it could be because he had yet to see Darien up this early. A servant? Maybe a relative of Darien’s that was wondering who the fucked up man was masturbating in the boy’s shower?

“Bad, teach. Very fucking bad.”

Melting at the words and the boy they belonged to, Beau raised his head, peeking over his shoulder. Darien was standing in the shower doorway, his muscular chest bare and tanned, black tattoos running over his thick biceps possessively. His hair was mussed from sleep, the boy dressed hastily in a pair of low hanging jeans, the bottoms already wet from the water spraying and bouncing off the floor.

Green eyes glared at him, Beau whimpering when he met that burning stare. He was in trouble and he couldn’t wait to find out what his punishment would be.

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Blackthorne

Magic has destroyed Daniel Cross’s family. Now it’s taken his only chance at happiness when he discovers the boy he’s in love with has a conduit dragon inside him. Already keeping his distance because of the young man’s murderous father, Daniel’s beast has started to roar. It’s demanding that Mason be claimed before competition arrives. Daniel is so determined to keep from being a beast, he chooses to exile from the magical world completely.

Mason Blackthorne will not be ignored. Unless he can find someone powerful enough to protect him, he will be enslaved, tortured and used by terrible warlocks to possess his power. He has chosen Daniel,. If he can get the boy close enough, he knows he can convince him to be his bondmate.

A powerful suitor has come to court Mason, but the mysterious man holds evil, blood soaked intentions. Can Daniel find a way to put the obligations of the dead behind him long enough to save Mason? Or will his quest for revenge lose the only boy he’s ever loved to the same monster that killed his family?

Disclaimer: 18+ This mm erotica novel contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language and violence. The shifters transform from human to humanoid with respective dragon and lion characteristics and behaviors, including mating and breeding (but not impregnation), bonding, and some minor blood play. Any violence inflicted on the main characters is not sexual in nature.

105,000+ wrds, Published December 19, 2015.

Available At These Retailers

(republishing; sorry for the delay)

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BLACKTHORNE

on April 30, 2016
Oh how I loved this book! Harry Potter meets M/M paranormal erotica. It was hot, sweet, funny, evil, twisted and absolutely brilliant. I think I now have to read every book she's written!!!
on April 20, 2016
I like the angst and passion of the characters. Looking forward to the sequel.
on January 25, 2017
I find Sadie Sins books enchanting and this one kept me reading until it was completely finished. I truly adore her work and the way she developed her characters and plot while keeping it dead sexy is unique and wonderful. This book and her others are must reads.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

He's ours...

Sitting in the large, sun-soaked cafeteria with the voices of excited students all around him, Daniel could not look away from Mason Blackthorne. It was a problem, and not a new one. He'd had a thing for the blond for years now, but lately things were getting worse. Dangerous. Something was different about Mason and it was driving him crazy.

Oh, he still looked the same. Mason Blackthorne was one of the hottest sorcerers Daniel had ever met, and that was saying something. With enough magic everyone looked damn sexy. It was just something innate about using the power, like the magic sank into the cells and transformed the wielder with each spell. Daniel was used to being surrounded by beautiful people, was used to being one himself with his dark hair and strange, gold eyes, yet Mason managed to stand out like a glowing flame to his senses.

To call Mason pale would be an understatement. The boy's skin was pure cream, his hair platinum white. Average height but lithe and toned, Mason was a glint of moonlight most of the time, the only color he revealed being his red lips and maddening cerulean eyes that glowed in certain light. Mason was stunning and Daniel wished that was the reason he couldn't stop staring at him.

He tried valiantly to focus on what his best friends William and Tiana were saying across from him at the table. The couple was getting an apartment together, both of them having already applied and been accepted as magical regulators in training. He didn't want to think about the fact that it was his last day at the Academy of Magical Arts and Sorcery. Daniel was giving up magic and hadn't told anyone yet. It was for the best. It was time to finally let magic and Mason Blackthorne go for good.

It was the only answer. Surely anything else would lead to him destroying the beautiful boy and himself in the process.

Daniel didn't want to live in a world of magic. After four years of advanced sorcerer training, he no longer had any doubts. It didn't matter that he had raw talent and even greater power. He had been named an Elite, a title bestowed on only the most illustrious of sorcery students, Daniel being the only one during the last five years to receive the honor. Since the title, he had been interview repeatedly in three different newspapers, offered two internships, one of them into the Council of Esteemed, and had received two dozen offers from Masters around the world hoping he would choose them for formal apprenticeship. Daniel had the magical world in the palm of his hand and he was determined to leave it all behind.

Unfortunately there was a loud, roaring, bloodthirsty beast inside of him that wanted to stay.

Ours... We must make him ours...

It had been a difficult year. Two months ago Daniel had lost his chronically ill grandmother, his only guardian since he was a small child. It had almost been a relief when Sofia Warweaver finally passed away. Even though he was away at what would be considered the equivalent of college in an academic setting, the majority of his attention had been spent dealing with the doctors and nurses keeping the sorceress alive. Her mind had failed in the end, the women a shadow of her former powerful glory as the curse that had been cast on her before Daniel was born took its slow, torturous course of eating her away.

It had been a reminder to him of just what magic did, even to the most powerful. And his Grandmum had been one of the greats. Older than what she claimed, certainly, although she managed to look under forty when Daniel last saw her, she had lost both her son and daughter to terrible warlocks over twenty years ago, that daughter being Daniel's mother. For all her power, she had not been able to save either of her children and it had broken her more than the curse that struck her down.

Take him... Claim him...

Daniel, eyes having managed to find their way to his breakfast of scrambled eggs and ham, slowly looked back up to where Mason was chatting obliviously with his friends.

You can smell him... He wants us... He's aching for us...

“Shut the fuck up,” Daniel muttered under his breath. His beast did not, growling lowly in his ear, commenting on all the ways Mason chose to not look in his direction, the boy blatantly ignoring them like the little flirt he was.

Over the table... He won't fight us... He's begging for us... Just cross the room, push him down to the table, and take him... He'll give in... He wants to give in to us...

Daniel was not a crazy person, even if he did have a dark voice rumbling in his ear to fuck Mason Blackthorne senseless. He was a shifter, one of the rare mythical shifters at that. The beast inside of him had never walked the earth in any other form, waking up in the oldest, strongest family bloodlines to experience life with a human host. It was supposed to be a great honor to hold a beast within. Daniel had found out very quickly that it was not, the blood lion within him an absolute menace. The moment it had woken up he had caged the beast to keep it from taking over his body and transforming him into a wild animal. No, Daniel wasn't a crazy person, but if he had to deal with the beast roaring over Mason Blackthorne for another month, he was going to go out of his fucking mind.

He looks good today...

Mason did, in fact, look fucking hot as hell, the boy dressed in tailored slacks and a collared short-sleeved shirt like the privileged preppy brat he was. His biceps, tight and toned, were looking particularly interesting as the blond leaned his elbows on the table to talk to his neighbor, cerulean eyes lighting ever so subtly on Daniel's intense stare before looking away with a small grin.

He wants us... We should take him... Have him... Keep him...

“Shut up, you stupid furball,” Daniel muttered, wishing Mason would stop grinning every time he looked his way.

He'll be tight... Loud... His cries for us will echo off the walls...

Daniel really needed to get the fuck out of there. It was the last day of class. Tomorrow he'd be officially graduated and no longer required to share a cafeteria, hallway, or classroom with Mason. Just one more day to endure, and he'd be free from this insanity.

“Seeing as you're talking to yourself, I'm going to assume you haven't been listening?” William broke in, only looking slightly annoyed when Daniel glanced at him blankly. William, tall with light brown hair and dark eyes, had been attempting to draw Daniel into conversation for the last ten minutes. His failure was only mildly disheartening, having grown used to his friend's strange behavior. “Blackthorne?” He asked when Daniel's golden gaze began slipping away again. “Has he hexed you again?”

Grunting noncommittally, Daniel forced his attention to William and Tiana's expectant faces. He hadn't felt it necessary to reveal to his friends of four years that lately whenever he was fighting with Mason he was also trying to hold back the beast from tearing the boy's clothes off. The two knew about the Blood King inside him and had accepted a lot of weird behavior from him as the consequence. Still, some things were just a bit too much to share.

“We were asking if you'd like to join us on our vacation, Daniel,” Tiana spoke up. “I hate to think of you all alone in that big house now that your grandmother has passed away.”

Daniel winced, picking up his fork so he could pretend to eat. “I'm going to be really busy this summer. The Estate needs to be settled, things boxed up—That sort of thing.” He didn't meet Tiana's eye. Daniel was actually homeless. With the death of his Grandmum, the large Warweaver Estate had been spelled shut to everyone. He couldn't even get to his own things until the reading of the will, something that wouldn't occur for another month. “Besides, you two haven't had a chance to be alone since you started dating. I'd hate to be a third wheel.”

William shot Daniel a grateful look. Tiana worried too much and William was a bit oblivious, but Daniel loved them both and didn't want to burden them with his own shit.

He had met his Aunt April for the first time at Sophia's funeral. He knew the woman existed but she had never contacted him after his father's death. He hadn't given much thought to why until face to face with his aunt. She was terrified of magic, and more so, the people that wielded it. Her brother and his family had been obliterated in the blink of an eye and she had not been able to take in the nephew that had survived. Until now, when she had demanded Daniel live with her family that summer until the will was settled. Daniel, with no place left to turn, had hesitantly agreed.

April's only stipulation was that he didn't perform magic while at the house. And well, that had been more than fine with him. It would be a summer without magic while finally getting to know the only family he had left in the world. And maybe, if things went well, it would be a lot longer than a summer.

“Oh, the Trinity's here.” Tiana jumped up, her silky red hair flipping over her shoulders as she scraped her chair back to get a copy of the sorcery rag before they were all snatched up. There were a few different newspapers dedicated just to the magical going ons in the world, even though the main papers still had a section for magic users. Daniel had stopped reading them once he started finding his own face staring out at him since named the newest Elite. It was just bizarre.

He's calling us... Can't you feel his power? The dragon is calling us to claim him...

Daniel groaned inwardly, hunching into his seat as he tried to pull his beast from its focus on Mason.

He wants us... If we reveal ourselves he will bend to us... Cry for us...

Daniel wasn't certain that the King was wrong. Something had changed about Mason. About three months ago when he'd been watching the last of his grandmother's life slip away, Mason Blackthorne had woken up different and his beast had not shut up since about it.

Mason and Daniel didn't have a traditional relationship to begin with—Well, unless you counted on the playground. Mason loved to annoy the shit out him every chance he got, from casting little hexes on him, to challenging him in class, to outright sabotaging his homework. The blond just couldn't leave him alone and Daniel had been more than okay with it.

He enjoyed their strange game, forever transfixed on the vicious expression Mason made right before he struck. They had a bizarre interaction, extremely intense and one that Mason seemed quite happy to pretend was nothing more than childish rivalry even as he fueled Daniel's attraction into a burning flame. And if he'd been fully human, maybe that would have been easy enough to resist. But the beast inside him full of power and terrible, malevolent instincts had different plans for Mason.

The Blood King found the taunting game fascinating. A lion toying with a soft, fragile mouse, his beast had flexed claws while Mason nibbled, twittered, and fluffed his whiskers whenever Daniel walked into the room. And in response to Daniel's attention, Mason had become outright teasing, his otherworldly eyes flashing in laughter as he stared too long, hands brushing over him in electric moments as they passed too close. Even lips against his ear once, Mason leaning in to whisper something lewd and asinine while he'd been reading. It had become a very riveting game.

Take him now... He's calling us, wants us... We must have him...

Then it had all gone to shit.

Mason was no longer a mouse. Months ago something had changed in the boy that made the King stare intrigued and possessive. Snapping, caustic energy, luminous and unrestrained had begun to crackle just beneath the blond's surface. It was deadly, powerful, and awesomely alluring. To the point that Daniel's beast could no longer concentrate on anything but said power whenever Mason was near. He'd been forced to push back to keep the blond at arm's length and safe from his beast. He had enough control over himself, his beast still only a caged animal roaring inside him. But sometimes when Mason came too close, snapped his power too loud with clamping jaws and slashing talons, Daniel lost himself, the beast rearing up to... Well.

Screwing Mason Blackthorne into a wall was not an activity Daniel felt healthy, for himself or the obnoxious, rich brat.

It was an extremely complicated issue, seeing as Mason was fucking gorgeous, adorably snarky, and usually fun to be around when not hexing him. Fine, even when hexing. It didn't really matter. It was a lost cause, one Daniel should never have indulged in. No matter that Mason flirted with him every chance he got, in cruel, cutting ways to shock him. No matter that his beast roared loud and demanding whenever the boy was near, snapping and rattling its cage until Daniel was brooding and ready to break something for want of the blond. They could never be together.

Even if Mason Blackthorne came to him on hands and knees and begged, Daniel would never, ever, touch the boy, no matter how much he wanted to.

Tiana gave a huff when William began to prod her, finally handing the newspaper over to her boyfriend, who always demanded the sports section before she became ensnared in the pages. Daniel's eyes were across the room again, watching Mason bow his head as he read his own paper. For the life of him, he just couldn't keep his eyes off the boy.

Mason was biting his lip, thoughtlessly gnawing on the flushed flesh as he flipped through the oversized pages. His hair, shining blond and silvery, was hanging down loose, soft around his shoulders. Slowly a tint of pink began to reach the perfect, creamy skin of his cheeks as he stopped and started reading intently.

The terrible things he would do with Mason Blackthorne's lips. The things he would make him say, beg... He could make Mason beg. Beg for more, for harder, and faster, and every drop of seed he had to give him...

“Son of a—Phsssh!” William spluttered, spraying orange juice all over the table and the paper he was reading. “Holy hell,” he uttered between coughs. “The fucking... ass... is getting bonded.”

Daniel wasn't sure who or what he was referring to, but he was grateful for the distraction. It had been enough to draw his attention from Mason and the heated thoughts swirling in his mind once again. God, he really needed to get the fuck out of there.

“What?” Tiana asked, snatching the paper from William when her boyfriend showed more interest in choking on his drink than finishing his thought. “Oh. My. God.” She gaped, jaw falling open and staying open.

Narrowing his eyes at his friends' display, Daniel grabbed the damp paper from Tiana's slack grasp. On the third page a large black and white image of Mason stared back at him, looking restrained and cool with mild hints of nervousness around his mouth. There was no fucking escape from the brat. Daniel resisted the urge to crumple the paper up, instead folding the page so he would not have to stare at Mason Blackthorne's face as he read the article beneath.

Unreal. Fucking bizarre.

“It's a joke, right?” Tiana asked. “A dragon? He's looking for suitors because he's part dragon? I never saw him as having a beast.”

Daniel shrugged distractedly as he read, realizing he had never mentioned it to his friends. He really didn't need them to know just how crazy he was about the kid. His eyes followed down to where Selina, Mason's mother, was said to have passed down strong dragon ancestry to her son when conceived. Dragon genes were prominent in the Rowe family bloodline and woke up during the early twenties.

William shook his head, finally able to get his coughing under control. “Being part dragon isn't the issue. He's a conduit. Anyone looking for a hit of power will be running him down to force a bond.”

Daniel then got to that part; the very special ability Mason had locked inside him. Unimaginable power that the boy couldn't access alone but his bondmate could, the sorcerer of choice capable of wielding it however he so desired.

Daniel paused, taking a slow breath as his blood lion gave a rattle to its cage. That would be the wild power that had been driving his beast insane lately. It wasn't unique... it wasn't just him. Every beast that got a look at Mason would sense it too. They would all want him.

He is ours...

Daniel ignored the creature and turned back to the paper. Mason needed a bondmate, soon, before some power hungry jackass decided that they'd have that power no matter how the boy felt about it. And the mate had to be powerful and fierce because those power hungry madmen would have no issue in killing Mason's chosen just to chain the dragon and have it at beck and call exclusively.

It was a chilling situation, Daniel's mind wandering to his dead parents and sister, their lives cut down because of insane men that had wanted power so much they had drained it from the living. It was the seedy dark side to sorcery no one talked about; insatiable greed in the hands of powerful men. Mason wouldn't be killed, but he would be enslaved for the rest of his life, some monster draining him dry whenever he wished if the boy were captured.

Mason would be seeing suitors that summer, going through a selection process to find an acceptable bondmate. Until then, the boy would be locked in his house, protected from any maniac that would try to kidnap and force a bond on him.

Daniel threw the paper into Tiana's waiting hands, scowling darkly at the table top. Suitors. How many fucking sorcerers wanted into Mason's pants? Probably a shit ton if they only had a look at the gorgeous boy. Fucking absurd. With furious restraint, Daniel raised his eyes and sought out Mason's face across the room.

The blond was in full out angry blush, pink having turned to red as he ripped his paper in half right down the middle of his photo. His parents must have had the article published in the hopes of attracting eligible suitors. Mason's handsomeness, wealth, and many talents had been listed at the end, most with glaring tones of innuendo.

“I don't understand,” Tiana mused aloud, reading through the article again. “Why are they calling for powerful sorcerers? Wouldn't Blackthorne want to be bonded to a sorceress? I mean, bonding is like some antiquated form of marriage, but with magic.”

“He's gay,” Daniel said darkly, eyes fixed on Mason, who was taking the torn pieces and ripping them again, slowly turning the paper into a mess of long strips. Gay, containing a dragon, and apparently a conduit. How many fucking sorcerers would be chasing after the boy now?

“Oh... Ohhh.” Tiana blinked up, looking at Daniel. “Is that something... Like, you can tell your own kind?”

He glanced her way, the corners of his mouth curling in a grim smirk. “As in beast, or as in fag? Both seem to apply.”

Tiana nodded mutely, then turned back to the article. Only to look up again, eyebrows raised inquiringly. “So are you going to...?”

Slowly and deliberately, Daniel turned his full attention to Tiana while William spluttered again on his juice beside her. “Tia, I want you to finish that sentence. And then I want you to stop and realize just how fucking halfwitted you are.”

Tiana glared, staring Daniel down as her ill-tempered friend tried to intimidate her. She had grown used to his foul moods and dark power years ago and never allowed it to get the best of her. “You are both gay. You both apparently have powerful beasts. And you are both absolutely and madly obsessed with each other,” she hissed lowly. “It is not an unreasonable thought that you might want to date him.”

“You are out of your goddamn mind,” Daniel growled, hands biting into the wood of the table as he gripped hard. It didn't matter that his beast was agreeing with the girl, very much wanting to claim Mason, and preferably before any competition showed up.

“Yeah? Then why are you so angry?” Tiana shot back, picking up the paper and unfurling so he was forced to stare at Mason's obnoxiously attractive face. She knew Daniel wanted Blackthorne, for years now. She just couldn't figure out why he refused to admit it, especially since he'd apparently known the kid was gay the whole time.

William, once again gaining control of his coughing, crushed the paper down, grabbed Tiana around the waist, and pulled her against his tall form so that she fell away from Daniel's menacing glare. “Tia, you're sticking your nose in it.”

“He called me a halfwit!” She muttered with a petulant huff.

“He's going to do a hell of a lot worse if you don't stop pissing him off about the pain in the ass. Daniel, calm down!” William ordered, slamming his fist loudly on the table to break Daniel from his angry, low growl.

Daniel blinked out of his glower, looking up and around while the other students sitting at the table gave him wary glares. He had become rather dangerous lately, prone to moods and violent outbursts at the slightest of provocation since Mason's energy had started sparking. He hadn't hurt anyone yet, that they knew of, but it seemed to be only a matter of time.

Scowling darkly, Daniel's gaze once again trailed over to where Mason was sitting, only to meet an answering blue glare. Fucking Blackthorne.

He flipped the blond off, rewarded with a vicious snarl and a returning rude hand gesture. Then the fucker blew him a kiss, his beast practically salivating at the sight, and Daniel got up and stormed out of the cafeteria.

***

Glare following as Daniel left, Mason turned to Jackson. “Fucking Cross.”

Jackson Falkner just rolled his ice-blue eyes, ducking beneath long black hair and reading the paper he had refused to let Mason tear up. His friend had issues with Daniel Cross, usually resulting in endless, drawn out monologues filled with more obscenities than usable words. Not commenting was the only way to keep from encouraging Mason into said rants.

Unfortunately, Mason rarely needed the encouragement, and this was one of those times.

“Fucking headcase, probably making fun of me with his fucktard friends. Like I wanted my fucking life put in the damn paper like a damn fucking fool. Now the whole fucking school knows I'm not only a fucking conduit beast, but that I also like cock. Fucking shithead, crazy ass, Cross.”

Jackson didn't bother pointing out that Cross had actually no fault in Mason's life being dragged out in the paper. It was exclusively his friend's terrible, manipulative parents. Mason's parents were always doing things to embarrass the boy, to the point that Jackson wondered if it wasn't intentional. Really, a call for a bondmate didn't need such details. Those were normally given later in privacy once an interested suitor had approached.

“What exactly makes your parents think you can blow as good as you get?” Suzy drawled, her long blond hair sparkling in the light, brown eyes flashing teasingly as Mason turned his glare to her. “Is this something they've seen first hand? Or do you just share far too much information?”

“Fuck off,” Mason grumbled, trying to grab her paper so he could destroy it, only to have her hold it out of reach.

“Oh no, I'm framing this. And did you see Cross? He was pissed. Must be jealous he has competition for your special, freakish affection.”

Mason rolled his eyes, stabbing his fork into the table until it stood vertically into the wood. Suzy had a theory, the miserable bitch, and insisted on trotting it out every time Cross showed any emotion towards him. Of course, most Cross ever showed towards him was anger, even more explosive recently than before. Mason didn't know what the asshole's problem was and he didn't fucking care. It just made things more fun when he sabotaged his spellwork.

“They've gone too far,” Jackson interjected before Suzy could once again run down her many reasons she was certain Cross was gagging for Mason's dick. “Mentioning you were a conduit before you're bonded—They've put you in serious danger. You're not even safely hidden within your ancestry walls yet.”

Mason bit his lip, well aware. His parents meant well, in their overbearing arrogant need to show him off, and themselves as a result. But letting the whole fucking world know that he was a conduit was asking for every crazy warlock in the vicinity to come knocking on the Academy's front door to kidnap and rape him. It was concerning, to say the least.

“Stupid fucking Cross and his fucking show off Elite power. Couldn't get a goddamn article on that championship duel he won to bump this fucking disaster my fucking parents put out. Fuck, fuck, fuck... fuck... fuck...” Mason started dropping his head on the table, clunking repeatedly to every muttered curse. It helped a little.

Jackson reached over and placed his dark hand beneath his friend's forehead before he could smash his brains out. “This needs a strategy. What the fuck are you going to do? You're putting everyone at risk as long as you're here.”

Mason glared, resting his face in Jackson's palm. “I suppose I'll find the biggest, baddest motherfucker in the school and have him make me his bitch.”

Jackson raised a brow while Suzy cackled happily and clapped. It was difficult to argue with the girl when Mason kept saying things that clearly showed an interest in the Elite sorcerer. He might not have been particularly tall or muscular, but Cross was the most powerful sorcerer to come out of the Academy in years. The kid had become damn near beastly in attitude, and no one could match him in fighting or much anything else for that matter. “Or instead of letting Cross fuck you, you could, you know, take a portal home.”

“Whatever,” Mason muttered, shutting his eyes.

It was bad enough he had to go through finding a suitable bondmate while so young and for such dire reasons. But now he had to do it while all his fucking classmates knew. He'd been able to get away with the other aspects that had arisen when his beast had woken up and started prowling. This was apparently the end of that.

No one had seen his physical changes associated with it, at least, not the weird ones. He had grown, his already toned body lengthening and strengthening to manifest the dragon now curled within him. But no one had seen the horns, or the scales, or even the claws, fangs, and wings. Even though power buzzed inside him, no one had noticed his spells becoming more powerful and explosive.

If he craved raw red meat once in a while, no one called him on it. Nor when he started sniffing people as they passed, seeking out information and potential suitors. So he was a little more surly, a little more cutting and vicious; not really anything to write home about. Mason had never actually been nice before.

But this. This fucking article business. This was nearly everything laid out in black and white. This was mortifying, not to mention dangerous. As strong as he had become when his beast awoke, he was not invincible. Part of his existence was to empower another, not wield such power himself. His dragon craved desperately for a companion to help ensure his survival. A protector. A lover.

Very much the last one.

The beast was preposterously horny. Like, fucking on your knees, begging for dick, horny. It was embarrassing. He had a permanent spell on all his underwear just to keep from looking like a degenerate around the academy. Thankfully no one noticed his constant tang of sex scent, no other beasts in the school to respond.

Well, except for fucking Cross. Daniel had never said a word to anyone, had never even suggested that he was more than human, but the day Mason's dragon had woken, every telltale sign of the beast was suddenly blaring loud to his senses and impossible to ignore. Daniel was something, something powerful, and he wouldn't let it out. Which was just like stupid, noble Cross. The kid had a stick up his ass that had only lodged in deeper since he'd been named an Elite. Always going on about not abusing magic, that the dark arts were the killer of the soul, blah, fucking blah. Daniel was a moralistic bore that wouldn't cast a dark spell to save his own fucking life.

The jackass had also outright ignored everything Mason had thrown at him. Even when he'd managed to look like he'd accidentally fallen right into the Elite's lap yesterday. The fucker had lifted him up like he weighed nothing at all, placed him on his feet, and left the class they were sharing even though there had been a half hour left. Daniel had started ignoring him, not responding to his pranks or taunts like he used to, and it was getting really fucking annoying.

Not that he wanted Cross, with his brooding moods, and fucking wild gold eyes, and sexy mouth... His inky black hair always mussed up in a stylish, freshly fucked look, his skin a warm, golden tan with that fit, toned body that just begged to be touched and kissed and licked... Damn it.

Fuck Cross, the fucking asshole. Fuck him hard, and deep, and on his fucking knees like the fucking slut he was.

“Mason, stop drooling on my hand,” Jackson complained, wrenching his hand out from beneath his head to let the blond clunk on the table.

Mason blinked up, not certain when his thoughts had once again strayed. The fucking dragon was misery; horny, powerful, and a glowing damn target for every eligible psycho in the area. It had also fixated on Cross like the boy was catnip, trying to get Mason to do things—Really messed up things that involved stripping naked and crawling on his knees, even in rooms as busy and full as the cafeteria. Seeing as he was only just starting to get to know his dragon, Mason still wasn't sure if this was because Cross was hiding a beast, or if it was just because it was Cross. Either way, it was too fucking embarrassing for words.

Thank god he was going home in less than a week. He would be safe in the mansion. Safe from asshole students giggling behind their hands about him looking for a bondmate. Safe from rapist, power hungry madmen wanting to force a bond to steal his power. Safe to jerk at the ridiculous level needed to finally find some peace.

He couldn't wait to go home and never have to see Daniel fucking Cross again.

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Bullying Teacher

Beau and Darien return, the new science teacher confused and consumed with memories of what happened only days ago. He feels drawn to his controlling student but repelled by the sheer need growing in him. He wants to be owned and protected, but also publicly disgraced and he doesn't know how to deal with these strange, overwhelming urges.

On the outside Darien seems to have everything under control, but he's new to the game he's playing with his Mr. Ashford, and even more to the possessive feelings running through him. He doesn't want to lose himself, but everything about Beau is stripping him down, making him raw and desperate to hold onto the man at all costs. Including buying him outright.

Yardstick in hand, Darien wants to mark his teacher as his own, but first he needs to know if Beau likes pain as much as he thinks the man does.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published January 15, 2016.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on May 14, 2016
on December 25, 2016
on April 25, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Face pressed up tight to the dingy bathroom mirror of his small apartment, eyes slit open so he could just make out his own dazed blue orbs, Beau forced another soap lubed finger into his aching hole. Gasping loudly, he pushed it as deep as he could get, not caring that it stung, that his flesh felt so raw and sore already. He couldn't stop. It was Friday, he had woken up after dreaming of everything Darien had done to him last Tuesday, and his entire body was crying for more.

“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, driving his two fingers in deep, gaping when his hole was stretched wider as he spread them. “Fuck, please... Please...”

He was losing his mind.

Whimpering lowly, he began thrusting in and out of his clenching passage, hissing from the feel of his fingers scraping his burning hot flesh. He couldn't stop. Had been wanting it so bad. Needing it so much. He had tried to hold back, had tried to not be this way, but every time he was alone too long, Beau remembered. And when he remembered, he needed to feel it again. Needed to be taken. Owned. Exposed and humiliated. It was wrong, and so fucked up, and it was making him so unbearably hard.

Pulling his head off the mirror, he panted loudly, his breath bouncing back hot on his face as he took in his creamy skin flushed red, brilliant blue eyes and golden shoulder length hair. His brows were furrowed, mouth open wide, tongue tip brushing his bottom lip as he groaned. He looked like a slut. Like some sort of man whore just begging to be fucked. And he was. He was secretly begging for his muscular, young student to walk into his bathroom and replace his fingers with his own thick ones. Maybe even that big dick of his.

Slamming his fingers deeper into his hole, Beau jerked his hips against the wall, rubbing his aching dick against the cool surface. He released a weak cry, then another as his body clamped down so tight on his digits. Close. God, he was so close. Just thinking about Darien got him so hard, so ready. How the tall boy had pushed him down over his desk, fingered him in front of his students. Humiliated him. Degraded him. Got him off so fucking good.

Beau came with a cry, his cum streaking the wall in long streams as he bucked on his fingers buried deep inside him. Fuck. Fuck, he was losing it.

Panting heavily, he ran his tongue out, licking up the mirror, moaning from the smooth feel of cool glass on his hot flesh. Before he knew it he was sliding down the wall, seeking out his dripping cum, licking it off the surface while remembering how Darien had held him by his hair and forced him to lick his desk clean. Beau didn't stop until he got every drop of his seed, and even then he couldn't seem to pull away, lapping slow touches until his tongue was sore and his breathing had finally calmed.

***

It was Friday.

Beau had told himself to call out. He had stood in front of his bathroom mirror and told himself out loud that he was going to call out of work that day. Then he had gotten so hard he had stripped his pants off and fucked himself on his fingers. He had already come once that morning when he first woke, his dick so hard from dreams of his student that he barely touched it before he'd orgasmed.

It was crazy just how much he needed sex lately, how hot he got just thinking about Darien. It was wrong, he knew it because he wasn't thinking about things like how nice the boy was, or how sweet he treated him. No, Beau was getting off on how possessive, rough, and brutal his controlling student was. How Darien had been able to push him up against a wall and grope him so thoroughly that he couldn't escape, had not wanted to by the time the boy had his hands down his pants. And when he had fingered him, forcing him to bend over in front of his other students and the open classroom door, Beau had gotten so hot, so crazy he hadn't been able to do anything but let the boy take whatever he wanted from his body.

He was in trouble. He couldn't keep a straight head, couldn't seem to find the moral ground that had been so solid before. To the best of his knowledge, he didn't even like men. But he got hard for Darien. Every time the student looked at him—God, touched him. Beau wanted him to touch him. Needed him to make him feel that way again.

What he really needed was to not go to school that day. It was a prestigious college, he was the newest, youngest teacher there, and if he went into work he knew he was going to do something completely inappropriate with a young man that could have him fired in an instant. He should have been fired. After what had happened, he should have been escorted off the grounds and possibly straight into a police cruiser.

But no one had said anything. Beau hadn't reported the three hooligans that had destroyed his classroom, and the three punks hadn't said a word to the Dean or authorities about how he'd then gotten on his knees and sucked the dick of the student that had stopped them. He had a strong suspicion Darien Castello was to blame for that as well. Not only was the boy as aggressive as they came, but he also had a senator for a father. Whatever Darien had said to his classmates after the incident had apparently been followed.

Or so, Beau hoped. He was still waiting for the axe to drop. Three days later, he was still unsure just what the hell had happened and if he was going to be able to handle what was coming next.

He still had the bruises on his hips where Darien's fingers had dug in, the muscular twenty-two-year-old having ground him so tight against his desk it had left marks. He still had the cuts and slashes from the angry boys that had tried to beat him into giving them a passing grade. His hole still ached, still throbbed every time he thought of how Darien had pushed him over his desk and fingered him roughly until he came. All while claiming his teacher belonged to him.

“Fuck,” Beau groaned, hitting the brakes abruptly as the car in front of him stopped. He was hard again. He kept getting hard every time he thought about what had happened. Especially when he heard Darien still in his ear, whispering that he was a nasty, bad slut—his bad teacher, and he needed to be treated like it.

Beau didn't think he was a bad teacher, not the way Darien had said it. Not really. In his early thirties, he'd only had a short string of respectable, if not extremely tepid relationships, all of them with women willing to overlook his feminine good looks with his silky blond hair, bright blue eyes, and slender form. He had never thought of himself as gay. He had certainly never thought to look at a student in any way that was inappropriate, male or female. But then, he had never met a young man like Darien Castello before.

Tall, black hair streaked with red, green eyes and pure muscular confidence, Darien was everything Beau had hated when he was in college. Mostly because Darien was the type of boy that liked to bully him. Now an established teacher, that had not changed. Even though Darien had been very interested in getting Beau off, he had also done it while extorting his teacher for money with the promise he'd hurt him if he didn't pay up. And if money wasn't available, Darien would be more than happy to take it out of his flesh with a good fucking.

His breath speeding up, Beau licked his lips, trying to will his erection away. He could still call out. He could turn the car around, call from his cellphone and pretend to be sick. Sure it was hardly a month into the term but it was just one day. One day to keep from doing something extremely stupid.

What that stupid thing was, he wasn't a hundred percent certain. He had the money. Darien had said he'd accept $50 a week to protect him from the sort of punks that would destroy his classroom and beat him bloody... But only if Beau offered something else in trade. Something sexual. $450 worth of sexual.

Beau had never thought to hire a prostitute, the idea too off-putting and crass. Now he wished he knew someone who had, only so he could get an idea of just what $450 would get with a person like that. Because when Darien's eyes burned over him, he was pretty sure the young man saw him the same way most men looked at a hooker. Someone with a price that once reached would give them anything and everything.

Except Beau was the one paying Darien. To protect him. Maybe... maybe to look at him the way the boy kept doing. Maybe even to touch him, if he could face that thought as well. Maybe to make him do the many dirty, messed up things Darien wanted to do to him and a secret, naughty part of Beau desired to do. Like suck the boy's thick cock as thanks for beating up his attackers.

“Go home,” Beau whispered, biting his lip and staring down the street where he could just make out the clock tower of the college administrative building. “Call out sick, and go home.” He ran his hand down the front of his pants, hissing softly as he pressed against his hard erection.

He had managed to not be fired for the incident. He had managed to not have his name dragged through the papers in some huge scandal over his cocky, handsome extortionist of a student. He wouldn't be so lucky this time. It was tempting fate. Tempting the little good left in him.

Would you like that, Mr. Ashford? Do you want everyone to know you belong to me? Do you want to belong to me?

Darien's voice again taunting in his ear, Beau took the turn into the college gates, driving to the faculty parking lot. He kept his mind blank, kept his expression flat, his mouth grim. It was just a day like any other day. Just a Friday. Just the day he decided if he was going to let Darien Castello bully him back onto his knees, maybe over his desk again, and give the boy everything he wanted.

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Bullying Teacher

After a weekend full of anxiety and anticipation, Beau finally gets some time alone with Darien. The boy has a knack for drawing the truth out of him, and Beau finds himself admitting just what he really wants from his controlling student.

Darien's not satisfied with catching his teacher after class at school. He wants Beau to himself, preferably at home whenever he pleases. He just needs to find a way to convince Beau that he wants that too without scaring the skittish man off for good.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation occurring in a college setting. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published February 5, 2016.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 25, 2016
on December 25, 2016
on February 20, 2017
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

“Hey, teach.”

Head ducked as he washed his hands at the sink, Beau shivered from the familiar voice, his eyes lifting up to the mirror. Darien. The dark haired, green-eyed boy somehow looked even taller that day, his muscular form on full display in a tight black t-shirt and clinging jeans, biceps revealing tattoos under the short sleeves.

Beau's hands shook as he turned the faucet off, catching his own wide blue eyes in the mirror beneath his shoulder length blond hair. He was already panting, already growing hard, his cheeks flushing as Darien stared at him through the mirror, eyes moving over him hungrily and lingering on his bow tie.

“Mr. Castello, will you be joining my class today?” Beau asked, his voice hoarse as he made himself reach for a paper towel instead of falling to his knees like his body was screaming to do.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it.” Darien watched his teacher patiently, waiting for Beau to dry his hands before addressing him again. “But I figured if I was going to let you teach me today, Mr. Ashford, it would be better to get something out of the way first.”

Heart beating wildly in his chest, Beau swallowed down the saliva building in this mouth. “Y-Yes?”

Darien crossed the distance in two strides, grabbing Beau roughly by the shoulders. “Put that mouth of yours to good work, teach. On your knees. Now.”

“Oh, fuck,” Beau groaned, his knees buckling when Darien pushed him down to the ground, his student's large hands keeping him from swaying as he hit the floor. Fingers trembling, Beau tore at the boy's fly while resting his head on his hip and giving in to the urge to breathe the brunette in. God, he was so strong. Made him feel safe. So dirty and protected.

“Better not dawdle, Mr. Ashford. Wouldn't want anyone to walk in while you have my dick in your mouth,” Darien taunted, grabbing the blond by his hair and grinding his cock against the man's cheek.

Fire and fear shuddering through him at the idea of getting caught, Beau pulled back enough to glance at the bathroom door. If anyone walked in they'd see Darien's legs first. But it would only take a step, maybe two to see him after. Beau's hair was recognizable—It would be so easy to identify him. He looked up at the brunette, whimpering lowly when intense green eyes burned into his.

“Open, pretty teach. Show me how much you missed me over the weekend.”

Staring up, Beau parted his lips, opening his mouth until Darien pulled him roughly by his hair and forced his head back. Groaning in the hold, Beau turned his gaze down to the large, thick dick of his student, taking in how hard and ready Darien already was to put it in him. He tried to lick the tip, wanting to taste it, wanting to have that thick flesh filling his mouth, but Darien kept pulling him back by his hair, Beau's tongue outstretched while the teacher whimpered.

“God, you look like such a slut. You make me want to fuck you up so bad, teach.” Grunting, Darien shoved his dick between the blond's parted lips, forcing Beau to hold still so he could get as deep as possible into his throat.

Eyes rolling back, Beau fought the wish to breathe, to choke or gag. He held himself still, letting Darien thrust into him shallowly, hitting the back of his throat with each pump. He couldn't comprehend just how hard he was right now. A minute ago he had been tired but ready to teach his last class of the day, and now he was on his knees sucking his student's cock. He felt so used and it was making him unbearably hard.

Beau glanced again at the bathroom door, groaning as his tonsils were ground by that blunt cockhead filling him again and again. God, if someone walked in he'd be ruined. He knew it. It didn't matter if Darien's father was a senator or not—There would be no fixing being caught like this.

It should have freaked him out, but Beau kept looking at the door hoping it would open. He wanted to be discovered. He wanted people to see Darien using him, getting off on his body, his mouth, his ass. The more he thought of it, the hotter he got, his entire body flushed and dizzy as he gave in to every relentless, gliding thrust of his student's cock.

Growling, Darien held Beau tight against his body as he filled his throat, forcing two fingers into his mouth beneath his thick cock and making the blond open wider to him. “Fuck, that's it. My fucking beautiful hole, look at you.” He rubbed Beau's tongue while humping his face slowly, his dick swelling, balls tightening as he got close. “Hold on, teach. Just hold that slutty pose for a little longer.”

Hot tears streaming down his cheeks, Beau gurgled at the first splash of cum against the back of his throat, trying to swallow and failing. Darien's cock suddenly withdrew, sperm streaming over the blond's face as the boy graffitied his teacher's skin in a seemingly endless hot rain.

Breathing heavily, Darien grabbed the blond by the back of his neck, pulling Beau back so he could take in the lines of cum all over his face. “Fuck, teach. You are a bad, bad man. Absolutely filthy.”

His mouth still hanging open, Beau gasped up at the brunette, eyes pleading for more.

“You close, Mr. Ashford?” Darien asked, his voice a low growl as he pushed three fingers into the blond's gaping mouth and began to fuck him with the thick digits.

Beau couldn't answer, mouth full, head caught too tight to even nod. But he could see that Darien knew. Could see it in the boy's expression as he drank in every sight of Beau taking his fingers while dripping in his cum.

Beau moaned when he felt the touch of a sneaker to his hard dick, Darien holding his gaze while rubbing his shoe over his teacher's erection. Beau struggled to talk around the fingers pushing deep into his throat, wanting to say that he needed to get his pants down. But Darien wouldn't let up, and the boy gave a very demanding growl when Beau went to try to unzip.

Hands freezing, Beau's face grew even redder, unable to look away from his student's hungry glare above him. “You can clean your face, teach, that's it. I want you in class wet with cum. You're a bad teacher. My bad teacher. Even when you're being good, I want you to still be filthy for me.”

Whimpering in agony, Beau bucked against the unyielding toe of his student's sneaker, his body so tight, ass clenching, thighs hard as he jerked his release in hot spurts. Flushed and dizzy, he let Darien pull him to his feet, only to be slammed up back against the counter as the brunette crushed his lips to his and forcefully plundered his mouth with his tongue.

Pulling away just as abruptly, Darien pushed the blond's disheveled hair from his face, staring into Beau's dazed blue eyes as he took in his tears, cum, shame, and lust.

“You're going to want to touch yourself during class, Mr. Ashford. You're going to see me watching you, you're going to get hard, and you're going to want to touch yourself. Don't.” Darien bent down, pressing his lips lightly to Beau's dripping red ones. “I'll be watching the whole time. No touching; I'll punish you if you do. Now clean up before you're late.”

Feeling completely lost and befuddled, Beau watched silently while Darien turned and left, his student giving him a final heated once over before the bathroom door swung shut.

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