Page 113 of Body and Soul

Shepherd retrieved a soft, damp cloth from somewhere and began to tenderly wipe my face, cleaning away the tears, drool and remnants of his release. Each stroke of the cloth was soothing, grounding, a tactile reminder of his care. He took his time, his movements thorough but unhurried, as if he was savoring this moment of quiet intimacy as much as I was.

When he was satisfied that my face was clean, Shepherd leaned in and brushed his lips against mine in a chaste, almost reverent kiss. I sighed into it, my eyes fluttering closed, losing myself in the simple comfort of his affection.

“My sweet, perfect boy,” Shepherd murmured against my lips. “You took your punishment so beautifully, and then served me so well. I'm honored by your submission, Eli.”

I flushed. “Thank you, Sir.”

And for the first time since that terrible night, I realized I felt safe again.

Shepherd's strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me up from my kneeling position and guiding me to lay face-down across his lap. I went willingly, eagerly, craving more of his touch, his closeness. The rough fabric of his jeans was a delicious friction against my tender, well-spanked skin, making me squirm and gasp.

“Easy now, sweet boy,” Shepherd murmured, his large hand splaying possessively over my lower back, stilling my movements. “Let me take care of you.”

I melted under his touch, the last dregs of tension bleeding out of my muscles as I surrendered to his control. Shepherd's other hand drifted lower, ghosting over the hot, throbbing flesh of my punished backside. I hissed at the contact, the sting reigniting, but didn't pull away. The pain was a good ache, grounding and cleansing, the physical proof of Shepherd's dominance, his mastery over me.

Shepherd hummed approvingly, his fingers tracing the curve of my buttocks, mapping the undoubtedly vivid hand prints he'd left behind. “It doesn’t look too bad. I don’t think you’ll have bruises. I’ll have a pillow for you to sit on for the rest of the day. No more kneeling.”

I frowned at that. Ilikedkneeling.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Better,” I replied and nuzzled into him. “Like that was exactly what I needed. Thank you, Sir.”

I love you. The words sat on the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t ready to say them yet, and I didn’t think he was ready to hear them. That didn’t make them any less true.

Shepherd planted a kiss on my sweaty temple. “Come, boy. Let’s go take a bath and then you can help me make dinner. How does that sound?”

I nodded and smiled up at him, still feeling half drunk on…whatever that was. I didn’t know for sure. Whatever it was, I wanted more of it.

The laptop fan hummed,the only sound in the hushed lecture hall as I clicked to the final slide. “In conclusion, the Kinsey Scale and its implication that sexual orientation exists on a spectrum rather than a strict binary was groundbreaking for its time. Kinsey's research helped pave the way for a more nuanced understanding of human sexuality that we continue to build upon today.”

I glanced at my watch, the smooth leather band sliding against my wrist. Perfect timing, as always. I looked forward to leaving the florescent lights and shuffling feet of academia behind for the day and going home to Eli, who’d beat me home by about an hour, and that was if traffic was on my side.

“Thank you for your attention today,” I said, raising my head to make eye contact with a sea of glazed expressions. “I'll see you all next week. Remember, your essays on the psychosexual stages of development are due on Friday. No exceptions.”

A few groans met my reminder. There would, no doubt, be requests for extensions in my email by the end of the day.

The class began to disperse, chairs screeching against cheap linoleum, a crescendo of zippers and chatter. I turned off the projector and began gathering my lecture notes, sliding them into a dark leather messenger bag.

As I shut my laptop and slid it into my bag, the lecture hall doors swung open with a bang. I looked up, startled, to see three police officers striding down the aisle toward me, their heavy boots thudding against the stairs. The few dawdling students scurried out of their way.

I stood up straighter, fixing the lead officer with an unimpressed stare.

“Dr. Laskin?” His voice was gruff, but he had a cocky air about him I didn’t care for.

“Yes, what can I do for you, officers?” I asked casually.

“We need you to come with us down to the station. We have some questions for you.”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “May I ask what this is regarding? I have a busy schedule.”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” the officer replied flatly.

I narrowed my eyes at the officer, assessing him coolly. His uniform fit too snugly across his broad chest, as if he spent more time lifting weights than upholding the law. I had little patience for men who relied on bravado over intellect.

“I see,” I replied, my tone clipped. “Well then, let's not waste any more time, shall we?”

I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped out from behind the podium. The officers flanked me as we exited the lecture hall, drawing curious stares from the few students still lingering in the hallway. I kept my head high, refusing to give them any reason to doubt my composure.

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