Mr Dawson
It was a peculiar Monday morning, the kind that started with a hint of the mundane and ended up as anything but ordinary. The sun had barely crept over the horizon, casting a feeble light on the deserted college corridors. The silence was occasionally pierced by the distant echoes of early birds preparing for the day ahead. Among the shadows, a figure in blue overalls shuffled nervously towards the principal's office, his heart thumping a tattoo of dread in his chest.
The figure, known around the all-male college as Cocksucker, had become quite the celebrity over the weekend. His secret side hobby of pleasuring freshmen had been caught in a live feed, broadcasting his talents to the entire school. Now, with the harsh light of day revealing his true colors, he found himself summoned to face Mr. Dawson. A man notorious for his stern demeanor and unwavering discipline, he was the last person Cocksucker wanted to cross.
Cocksucker's mind raced as he approached the heavy mahogany door. What could the old man possibly want with him? A suspension, being fired? He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, his eyes immediately drawn to Mr. Dawson, seated at his desk with a look of thunder on his face. The office, typically a bastion of order, was in a state of disarray, with papers scattered and the scent of cigar smoke lingering heavily in the air.
"You've been busy, I see," Mr. Dawson barked, not bothering to hide his anger. His eyes narrowed as he studied the young man before him. "I've had complaints. Parents are calling, the board is on my back and what do I find? A viral video of you with your mouth... busy."
The tension in the room was thick enough to slice with a knife. Cocksucker's knees trembled, his eyes darting around the office in search of an escape that wasn't there. He knew he was in deep trouble, but he also knew that there was no way to sugarcoat his actions. He took a step closer to the desk, his eyes meeting Mr. Dawson's. "It's just something I need to do," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Dawson's expression was a mix of shock and something else. Something darker, something that Cocksucker couldn't quite place. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the young man's face. "Need, huh?" he said, his tone low and dangerous. "And what is it exactly that you need?"
Cocksucker swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest. He'd never been this close to Mr. Dawson before, never seen the raw power that emanated from him. "I... I need to suck cock," he admitted, his voice barely audible.
The silence that followed was deafening. Mr. Dawson's gaze drifted down to Cocksucker's lips, and for a brief, terrifying moment, Cocksucker thought he saw something flicker in the older man's eyes. Something primal and hungry. Then, Mr. Dawson stood up, his movements so sudden that Cocksucker took an involuntary step back.
"Well, in that case," Mr. Dawson said, his voice a gruff rumble, "I suppose you can start with mine." He unzipped his trousers, revealing his thick, erect cock. It was big and cut, the head glistening with precum.
Cocksucker's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected this, but the sight of Mr. Dawson's erection was strangely thrilling. The fear was still there, but now it was mixed with a heady cocktail of arousal. He licked his lips.
Mr. Dawson stepped closer, his hand quickly placed on the back of Cocksucker's head, pushing him down. "I want you to show me just how good you are," he said, his voice a low growl. "Maybe, just maybe, I'll decide if you're worth keeping around."
The room spun as Cocksucker found himself on his knees before Mr. Dawson, the principal's hand firmly planted on the back of his head, guiding him closer to his thick, pulsing erection. The scent of arousal filled the air, a stark contrast to the usual stern aroma of the office. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his breath hot against the velvety skin, before parting his lips and taking the head of Mr. Dawson's cock into his mouth.
Mr. Dawson's hips bucked slightly, his grip tightening as Cocksucker began to work his magic. The groundsman's mouth was warm and wet, his tongue swirling around the sensitive tip with a skill that belied his years. The principal's anger melted away, replaced by a wave of pleasure that surged through his body. He watched, his eyes hooded with lust, as Cocksucker took more and more of his length, his cheeks hollowing with each hungry suck.
Cocksucker could feel the older man's excitement building, the tremor in his legs, the way his cock swelled even further in his mouth. It was a heady power, knowing he could bring this dominant figure to his knees with just his lips and tongue. He bobbed faster, eager to please, eager to satisfy the need that had brought him to this moment.
Mr. Dawson's breath grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought for control. He'd never been so close to losing it in his office before, especially not with a blue-collar member of staff. Something about Cocksucker's willingness, his eagerness to serve, was too much to resist. He leaned against the desk for support, his hand moving to the back of Cocksucker's neck, urging him deeper. The groundsman took the hint, swallowing around the shaft until his nose was buried in the thatch of coarse pubic hair at the base.
Mr. Dawson's legs began to shake, his balls tightening as he approached the edge. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice strained. "You're going to make me cum."
Cocksucker moaned around the cock in his mouth, the vibration sending shivers of pleasure up Mr. Dawson's spine. He knew what was expected of him, and he was more than happy to oblige. He sucked harder, his tongue dancing along the underside, until the principal's hips stuttered and he erupted, filling Cocksucker's mouth with hot, salty cum.
Cocksucker swallowed greedily, enjoying the taste as Mr. Dawson's grip on his head relaxed. He pulled back, his cheeks flushed and his own cock straining against the fabric of his overalls. He looked up at the principal, his eyes wide with excitement and a hint of fear. What would happen next? Would he be fired, or would he be given a pass, a secret understanding between them?
Mr. Dawson took a moment to compose himself, his chest still heaving from the intensity of his release. He tucked his now semi-erect, dripping, cock back into his trousers, zipping them up with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Get up," he said finally, his voice a little softer. "We need to talk."
Cocksucker stood, his legs wobbly from the kneeling position. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his heart racing. Mr. Dawson gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit," he ordered. "We're not done here."
The principal sat back down, his gaze intense as he studied the young man before him. "I won't pretend I'm not disgusted by what you've been doing," he began, his voice still thick with lust. "I also can't deny that I'm intrigued."
Cocksucker felt a spark of hope. Perhaps this wasn't the end of his time at the college after all. Perhaps it was the beginning of something new. He waited, his breath shallow, as Mr. Dawson continued.
"You've got a gift, Cocksucker!" Mr. Dawson said, his voice low and serious. "A gift that could be useful." He steepled his fingers, tapping them against the desk. "You need to learn control. If you can't keep this in check, it's going to ruin you."
Cocksucker nodded, his heart racing. He could feel the weight of Mr. Dawson's stare on him, and it was all he could do not to drop to his knees and beg for another taste. "I understand, sir," he murmured, his voice thick with unspoken desire.
"Good," Mr. Dawson said, his expression unreadable. "Because I've got an idea. Something that might keep you occupied, and keep the complaints to a minimum."
Cocksucker leaned forward, his eyes wide with curiosity. "What do you mean, sir?"
Mr. Dawson leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're going to become my personal assistant. You'll attend to my needs whenever I need it, and in return, I'll make sure you have all the extracurricular activities you can handle."
Cocksucker felt his cock twitch at the thought. He'd always had a bit of a thing for authority figures, and the idea of being at Mr. Dawson's beck and call was incredibly hot. "Whatever you want, sir," he said, his voice eager.
"Remember," Mr. Dawson warned, "this is a secret between us. If it gets out, you're finished. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Cocksucker said, his voice shaking with excitement.
Mr. Dawson stood up, walking around the desk to stand in front of the young man. "Now, let's see if you can handle the job," he said, his hand reaching down to stroke Cocksucker's still-hard cock through the fabric of his overalls. "Take these off."
With trembling hands, Cocksucker did as he was told, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. It was clear he was more than ready for whatever Mr. Dawson had in mind.
Mr. Dawson leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over Cocksucker's ear. "Now, let's see if you can make me cum again," he whispered, his hand wrapping around the younger man's cock. "This time, do it standing up."
Cocksucker's managed to suck Mr. Dawson’s cock by standing and bending forward, as he began to jerk himself off. The principal's hand on Cocksucker’s cock was rough and sure, his grip firm and unyielding. The tension in the room was palpable, a heady mix of power and submission. Mr. Dawson was getting off knowing that Cocksucker was in a stress position, working to give pleasure.
As Cocksucker stroked himself, Mr. Dawson leaned in closer, his breath hot on the groundsman's neck. "Faster," he growled, his own arousal clear in his voice. "Cum for me!"
The words were like a match to gasoline, and Cocksucker felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He moaned, his hips thrusting into the older man's hand, his cock swelling and pulsing with each stroke.
Mr. Dawson's hand tightened, his thumb teasing the sensitive spot just beneath the head of Cocksucker's cock. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a low, seductive rumble. “You know you want to, fag!”
Cocksucker couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled cry, he came, spurts of hot cum landing on the floor. His legs gave out and he collapsed into Mr. Dawson's arms, panting and trembling.
The principal pushed Cocksucker away, dismissively with a sense of revulsion. "You've got potential," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Now, get cleaned up. We've got work to do."
Cocksucker nodded, his mind racing with the implications of what had just happened. He'd gone from being a college pariah to Mr. Dawson's personal cocksucker, all in the span of one Monday morning. As he wiped his cum from the floor and pulled his overalls back on, he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. He was in deep, but he had a feeling he was going to enjoy it.
"You'll report to me after classes," Mr. Dawson said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Remember, not a word to anyone."
Cocksucker left the office, his legs still wobbly from the intense experience. All he could think about was the feel of Mr. Dawson's cock in his mouth, the way the principal's hand had felt on the back of his head, guiding him, controlling him. It was intoxicating.
