Alpha Bear on Campus Ch. 08

"Be home in ten minutes. We can talk then."

I threw the phone into the couch cushion. "Hell yeah, we can talk", I said to no one in the room. I heard the garage door open a short while later and then the the house alarm system beeped once signaling an exterior door had opened. I stayed hidden on the couch with its back concealing me from the view of the hallway President May would soon be walking down.

"John?" He called out.

"In here," I hollered with a side of attitude thrown in.

I heard his footsteps approach. He stopped at the arm of the couch. I continued to watch TV, not even acknowledging him with a quick look.

"Why haven't you started dinner?"

"Oh, so now you want to talk to me."

"What do you mean?" He asked, puzzled.

"When it comes to your dinner, you'll talk to me, but if it's a voicemail or text, you can't be bothered!" I set the remote angrily down on the coffee table and sat up in my seat.

"I told you, John, I had an appointment. It was a busy day today. I barely looked at my phone."

"Yeah, 'cause you're so important. Too important for me!"

"Lose the attitude, son."

To be honest, I had expected more of an outrage. I had never spoken like this to him before. I got up very animatedly and moved to walk out the room.

"John, get back here."

His voice was slightly raised but still kept under control. I continued to walk out of the room and down the hallway.

"Johnathan Anthony Steiner! Get your ass back here right now!"

I wanted to say 'fuck it' and keep walking. But the volume and sternity with which he spoke made me stop in my tracks. I took a step back and reluctantly turned around. His jaw was clenched and his stare bore right through me.

"Don't make me say it again." This time he spoke at a softer volume but his tone was ice cold.

Slowly, I walked back into the room. I stopped a couple feet from him. Both our cheeks were red, but his were an angry crimson while the color in my face was turning brighter from the fear and embarrassment his demeanor had manifested in me. I did my best to keep a stiff upper lip, but the more I stared at his fixed features, the more my courage waivered. Here he was, a man of sixty, stocky and powerfully built, the president of a university, dressed in suit and tie, and who was I? - A twenty-two year old skinny grad student who was now wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt, lounging on another man's couch after an unproductive day. It hit me that I was the one in the wrong. Why had I acted in this way? What was he going to do? My chin dropped to my chest, but I kept his stern expression in my vision.

But then, a smile broke across his face, and the mean grump disappeared. Feeling slightly comforted, I lifted my chin and caught the loving fatherly gleam in his eyes. He extended his arms wide and pulled me in for a hug. He squeezed me into his great upper body and held me close. His hands rubbed my back as he did this.

"Come here. Get in close to me. Are you calmed down?"

"Yes Sir," I struggled to say through his death tight squeeze.

"Good. Good. Now, let's sit. Let's talk." He grabbed my wrist and after taking a seat on the couch, pulled me to sit on his lap. He held me in place with his right hand cupping my ass and hip and his left hand reaching over me and holding my far knee.

"There we go." He patted my knee twice. "Now, John. First of all, don't make me raise my voice at you again. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir. I'm sorry Sir."

He pulled the back of my jockstrap above my shorts and held onto it.

"You speak to me with respect at all times."

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Now, let's talk about your behavior today."

I swallowed hard. He waited for me to explain myself. I started to speak and was soon rambling. I explained how Dean Parsons had taken me completely by surprise, and it was very strange news that I didn't know how to handle. I told him everything about our conversation. I told him how I knew Dean Parsons had in a way set us up, and that he knew about us on the golf course, and how Dr. Patterson knew too. Finally, I explained what the Dean had told me about his divorce, the circumstances that led to it, and the help President May had given to him. I tried to come up with an excuse for my constant pestering and impatience throughout the day saying my mind was twisted in all sorts of ways and going down one rabbit hole after another. I needed to talk to someone.

President May explained that he understood my bewilderment, but that he was a busy man, and there would be times he wouldn't be able to talk for a while. I needed to learn to deal with the immediate aftermath of events a little better. That didn't mean he didn't care, it's that he has a demanding job and sometimes can't answer the phone when I would like him to. He alternated patting my ass and holding the top of my thigh as he spoke.

"And as far as Dean Parsons goes," he continued, "is that all he told you?"

"Yes? Why? Was there more? Was that not the truth?"

"Oh, it was the truth. Only not the whole truth."

"What's the rest of it?"

"Well perhaps it's time we had a little chat about that. First, my mouth is feeling a little dry. Why don't you run into the kitchen and get us a couple bottles of water."

I got off President May's lap and did as I was told. I handed President May his bottle of water, and he patted his knee indicating me to resume my seat.

"Thank you." He took a much needed drink and audibly expressed his satisfaction for the thirst quenching refreshment. "Now, Dean Parsons, where to begin?" President May ventured into a long winded story of the Dean's falling out with his wife. He talked about the college friend he had been seeing on the side ever since college and how that didn't stop once he got married. There was a nasty argument and President May let the Dean stay at his place for a couple months when they initially split up.

Towards the end of this story is when President May dropped the bombshell on me. In the course of those two months the two of them developed a sort of sexual friendship! He made it clear that there wasn't much romance involved. It was strictly a physical component to their close friendship. It didn't happen all the time but mostly when after a long week and a couple drinks, the two of them needed to unwind a bit. And so, he would let the Dean blow him from time to time. On one or two occasions he would top the Dean. It was nice to be able to let off steam, and he thought the Dean was particularly in need of some love and intimate comfort during his divorce. This aspect of their friendship continued even after the Dean moved out.

"How long did that last? Your guys'....relationship?"

"We are still good friends. You know that."

"No, I mean, when was the last time you were together in a...?" My question petered off into silence.

"In a sexual way. Is that your question?"

"Yes."

"Not since I have been with you. I would have told you John. Plus, we haven't talked about opening our relationship up."

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds. I was busy imagining these two alpha bulls together. The thought of President May topping such a big, strong, and masucline man made me even more attracted to him. I felt even smaller on his lap now. President May checked his watch.

"It's already well past six. If we cooked we wouldn't be eating until well after seven. Why don't we order a pizza? It should be here in thirty minutes if I order it now."

He pulled out his phone and dialed a pizza place. As he talked on the phone I shifted in my seat towards him and began to rub his chest and stomach.

"Yes, we need a medium supreme and a side of wings." I moved my hand lower, below his belt, and cupped his balls. I gently rubbed and massaged them as President May finished the order. He ignored my attempts at seduction the whole time. He didn't even acknowledge them with a look.

"Thank you," he said and hung up the phone. "Pizza will be here in thirty minutes." He rested both his arms on the back of the couch. I continued to rub his crotch. He looked at me but said nothing. I couldn't get a read on what was going through his mind. Did he want this or not? He must be playing hard to get, I thought. I slipped off his lap and got down on my knees between his spread thighs. I began to rub his upper thighs and peer at him with my best sexy look. But he continued to look at me with no expression. I pushed things further and started undoing his belt.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Please Daddy, let me make up for my behavior today?"

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"Well, I thought maybe I could suck Daddy's cock for him."

"For him? Son, you and I both know you suck cock for yourself. Look at your shorts. Now look at mine. Whose are tented?"

"Mine. Sir."

"That's right. This is about you. Your greatest sexual desire is to be on your knees in submission to some daddy bear."

I sat back on my heels but I maintained eye contact.

"You're a born cocksucker," he said, running his fingers through my hair. I had never been called a cocksucker before. It should have made me feel degraded, but strangely, coming from his lips, it made me feel proud. I tilted my head so his hand rubbed across my face. I kissed his palm.

"What kind of Daddy would I be if I rewarded a disobedient boy with my cock?" My face turned pouty. He moved his hand back to the top of my head and gripped it firmly, lifting it to make sure I was looking him in the eye.

"You get my cock when you are a good boy, not when you run your mouth and act in a way that is unbecoming. We do need to correct that, in fact. Go grab one of the chairs from the kitchen table. One of the ones without any arms. Bring it over here."

I got up and marched over to the kitchen table. I grabbed one of the chairs he had indicated and brought it over to him. He had taken off his jacket and was rolling up his sleeves. He took the chair without saying a word and placed it in the middle of the living room. He took a seat. His big ass pressed flush against the back pieces of wood, and the extra meat in his backside hung out over the back and sides of the chair.

"Come here, son." I walked around and stood in front of him. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to stand in between his legs. "Do you know how we are going to correct your bad behavior today?"

"You're going to spank me," I said.

"I am going to teach you a lesson." He maneuvered me to stand at his side. "...the old fashioned way. C'mon, boy. Over."

I lowered myself over his lap. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me further over until my toes barely touched the floor and my body bent at an acute 45 degrees. He adjusted my shorts so they were tightly stretched without any wrinkles. He pinned my upper body down with his forearm and began to make circles with his hand over my raised butt.

"When I saw all the text messages you sent me this afternoon, I was very disappointed. They were quite rude, John. I would have responded to the initial one when I got the chance, but I wasn't about to reinforce your impatience with the others."

POP! He delivered the first blow. POP! He delivered the second blow, then POP!, the third. They weren't overly hard - just enough to get my attention and send a message about who was in charge. But then, he began making more solid contact and alternated between each cheek in quicker succession. This lasted about thirty seconds.

"You were trying to force a response out of me. You tried to manipulate me. I will not be manipulated, John. That is absolutely unacceptable behavior."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! These spanks were harder, and I began to squirm on his lap. He stopped and continued to scold me. I listened to his harsh words and took the successive spanks that followed them.

"Do you know how many text messages you sent me today, John?"

"No Sir, I don't."

"Why don't you take a guess."

"I don't know, six? Maybe seven?"

"It was eight!"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The spanks were starting to take their collective toll. I took a few deep breaths.

"And how many texts do you think you should have sent today?"

"Umm, one?" I guessed.

"One, what?"

"One, Sir!" I corrected myself.

SMACK! Damn, that one really stung.

"That's correct. See, you're a smart boy. You need to use your head and not let your emotions get the better of you. One text is all that is needed. I will respond when I am ready."

"Sorry Daddy!" I used his favorite name and feigned pain in my voice hoping it would generate some sympathy. It didn't work.

"Oh, you're going to be sorry, young man. We are just getting started. Stand up."

I stood up albeit with a little difficulty. I put my hands over my crotch to try and hide my growing erection. Despite its best efforts, my jock was unable to constrain it. President May saw this, and I noticed a quiet smirk begin to form on one side of his face before he quickly suppressed it.

"Go get your phone."

I walked over and grabbed my phone off the table by the couch.

"Open up your texts. Count them again." I obeyed and confirmed that he was, in fact, correct on the precise number. He pulled me between his legs and began to untie my drawstring.

"You're going to get three spanks for each unnecessary text message you sent. That's seven unnecessary messages. So how many spanks does that mean?"

"Twenty-one, Sir."

"Smart boy," he said patronizingly. Once my drawstring was undone, his thumbs slipped inside the waistband, and he yanked my shorts down to the floor. "Step out of them. Shirt off, too." I complied and was now wearing only my white jockstrap - I mean, his white jockstrap. He grabbed my wrist and placed me at his side and then pulled me back over his knee.

"I want you to read out each text from today, starting with the second one. You understand?"

"Yes Daddy." I took a deep breath and read out the second text. "Hello Sir, I'm sure you're busy. But please give me a call when you get a minute. Just want to talk."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I read out the third text. "Still busy?"

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I began to writhe on his lap and squeal. My hard on pressed against his thigh. There was no doubt he could feel it. I read out the fourth text.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I reached my hand back to cover my ass and block the incoming swat, but he grabbed my wrist and pinned my arm behind my back and delivered an extra hard one. SMACK!

"Who's in charge here?"

"You are, Sir." I said in a desperate whimper.

"That's right. Keep your arms down or use your lights. Read that last one out again. I don't think we've learned from that one yet."

I repeated the fourth text.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I yelped like a child and wiggled halfway off his lap. He let go of my arm and pulled me back onto his lap with ease. I held onto his calf with my free hand and held my phone in the other. He allowed me to catch my breath.

"Are we still green?" He asked.

"Yes Sir. Yes Daddy."

"Then, continue."

I read out the fifth, then the sixth, receiving three harsh spanks after each one. The whimper in my voice was growing. On the seventh text when I read out 'Would you please answer your phone, angry face emoji,' President May thought that one was extra cheeky. I got five hard smacks for that one.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I breathed several heavy breaths relieved it was over (or so I thought). President May began rubbing my ass. That helped the stinging fire subside a little bit.

"Get up," he said. I stood up awkwardly and faced the President. I didn't make an effort to hide my erection. I was too busy rubbing my ass. President May ignored it anyway. He stood up. He rested his forearms on my shoulders and held my head, rubbing my ear lobes as he evaluated me. He peeked into my eyes. I'm sure he saw the wetness around them.

"You okay, son?"

"Yes Sir."

"What color is the light?"

"It's green, Sir."

"You sure?"

"Yes Sir. I'm sure."

"Good." He let go of my face and took a step back. "Because we're not done."

My shoulders dropped. Not done! How could we not be done? What else did I need to be punished for?

"Bend over the back of the chair."

Reluctantly, I walked around and bent over the back of the chair. I looked up. I was eye level with President May's belt buckle. I stayed focused on it as he spoke.

"Finally, to address your failure to do your chores, the back talk, the walking away from me - that, my boy, will not be tolerated whatsoever. Those offenses, young man...they deserve Daddy's belt."

He began to undo his belt before my eyes. It was a performance - a way to build anticipation for the sting that was inevitably on its way. With one hard tug, he pulled his belt free from his pants. He folded it in half and walked around the chair. I swallowed hard.

"Now you're only going to get five of these. Next time it will be ten. Are you ready?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Count them out."

CRACK!

I grimaced. "One, Sir." I said through gritted teeth.

CRACK!

I grimaced again, with less dignity this time. I shifted my feet back and forth on the floor. My eyes filled up with tears. I blinked them away. I didn't want him to see me cry. I wanted to be tough. And I feared tears might make him feel guilty. I knew I deserved this. He was in the right to punish me.

"Two, Sir."

CRACK!

I was successful in taking this one without emitting a response. "Three, Sir!" My voice expressed strength. 'C'mon, bring it. I can take it.' I said to myself.

CRACK!

All the previous strength and dignity I had in taking the last one left me. I jolted upright into a standing position and grabbed at my surely red ass. A single tear rolled down my right cheek. I stomped on the floor and tried to regain composure. President May stepped towards me and pressed against my side. He took over rubbing my ass.

"Son, are you okay?" His voice was gentle.

"Yes...I'm okay, Sir."

"Look at me." I looked at him revealing my tear streaked face. "Do you wish to continue?"

"Yes Sir. I can do it. I deserve it. I'm green, Daddy!" I bent back over the chair. "Four!" I nearly yelled.

There was a pause. Then, I heard President May take a step back. He placed the belt against my backside. I turned and looked at him. He was staring back at me. His eyes moved to his target, and I saw his arm swing back in a wide arc like he was ready to deliver the winning forehand at Wimbledon. His arm swung violently back towards my direction. I closed my eyes, and my entire body braced for impact.

But no impact came. I opened my eyes to see a smiling President May. His arm, and the belt, had stopped inches before meeting my trembling backside.

TAP.

The belt barely made contact with me. I looked at President May, confused.

"Count it." He said.

"Five?"

"Five, what?"

"Five, Sir."

"That's my boy. Come here."

He lifted me up and embraced me in a big hug. I buried my head in his chest to hide the tears that were starting to flow.

"You alright, son?" His voice was soft. The big cuddly bear had fully returned.

"Yes Sir. Yes Daddy."

He tried to look at me, but I kept my face hidden.

"What's the matter?"

"Sorry, I don't want you to see me crying."

He laughed at this.

"John, do you trust me? Do you know I care about you?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then don't be ashamed to cry in front of me. You can let your guard down. Tears are a sign of a lesson learned. A boy's tears are endearing to his Daddy. I'm sure you will shed many more in my presence." He began to rub my ass again. Damn, that felt good.

"Your ass is pink. It's a nice contrast with your white jock. It's rather cute looking like this actually. But it's not beat up so much you need lotion. Would you like me to get you some anyway? It will probably take some of the fire out of it."