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The skirt was not designed for someone with Shane’s build.
Ilya mentally praised himself for managing to locate one with an elastic waistband, but the length of the pleats were leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The lower third of Shane’s toned ass cheeks were visible below the hem, and as he walked into the room, Ilya could almost see the red lace covering his husband’s pussy.
He’d only requested Shane wear the skirt and panties, but Shane, always dedicated to getting the details just right of any scene they decided to try, had gone above and beyond. He wore a tight white tank top, probably something left at their house by Rose or Svetlana during a visit, that stretched across his chest. The thin fabric was stretched so snugly across him that Ilya could see the dark nipples pointing outwards underneath.
Subconsciously, Ilya’s tongue darted out to lick his lips as he took in Shane’s other additions to his outfit. There was a red tie that almost matched the red of his panties, it cut down the middle of the tight tank top. And on his legs were tall, white socks. He had no idea where they came from, but he really didn’t care. He just wanted to see his husband bent over the desk, or over his knee, clad in the cutest little outfit he’d ever seen Shane wear.
“You accessorized,” Ilya observed..
At the sound of his voice, Shane’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He offered a bashful smile in return, playing into the part. “Do you like it…sir?”
Ilya had to grip the arm of the chair at the name, and at the sight of Shane blushing as he bit his lower lip. They loved playing around with new things to call each other, each one felt right in the moment, but ‘sir’ just might be Ilya’s favorite.
“I do, dear husband,” he answered. After swallowing quickly and clearing his throat, he stood up from behind the desk and walked slowly around to the other side. He took a deep breath in and released it out through his nose with a huff. “Color, Shane?” he asked before they began.
“Green.”
The answer was easy, and Ilya saw the determination on his husband’s face. He wanted this, he was loving this already. It brought a smug look to his face.
“I should’ve put you in a little skirt forever ago,” he said, barely above a whisper.
The blush returned to Shane’s cheeks, and Ilya forced himself to not be affected by it. He crossed his arms over his chest, and put on a serious face. The buttons of the dress shirt he had on stretched slightly with the movement, and he could already feel the first stirrings of arousal low in his body.
“Do you know why you were sent to my office today, Mr. Hollander?”
Shane shook his head slowly. “No, sir,” he stammered, “I wasn’t told.”
Ilya sighed and pushed himself up from leaning against the desk, and grabbed a ruler he’d sourced when they’d decided to play with this idea. He brought it over to where Shane stood in the middle of their office room and held the object loosely in his hands.
He saw the intensity in Shane’s eyes when they glanced down quickly at the thin, wooden stick. Ilya held it up once before kneeling on the ground in front of him. He pressed the end of the ruler to his husband’s kneecap, the rest of it laying on his thigh.
Ilya tsk’d, and looked up. “Your skirt cannot be more than fifteen centimeters above the knee. Yours is like,” Ilya drug a finger up the bare flesh of Shane’s thigh, up to where the short hem sat, “Way more than that.” The touch sent a shiver through Shane’s body that Ilya felt beneath his finger tips. As he stood, Ilya couldn’t help but cup Shane’s covered cunt, feeling the dampness already seeping into the lace. He heard Shane’s sharp intake of breath, and his mouth fell open slightly. Ilya wanted to kiss him, suck more breath from his lungs, but he held himself back.
“I’ve been told you keep wearing this, and after being given multiple chances to fix your mistake, you still refuse to follow the rules. I have no choice left but to punish you, Mr. Hollander,” Ilya told him. He gripped Shane’s chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Hand or ruler?”
“Wha–?” Shane began, but Ilya squeezed his chin between his fingers and pulled his face closer roughly. Shane had said he could be mean, and Ilya trusted that he’d let him know if it was too much.His husband whimpered at the force of the movement, his lower lip wobbling as he knew where things were headed.
“I will ask once more, before I choose for you,” he said coldly, letting the scene take over, “Hand or ruler?”
Shane forced himself to swallow, and he whispered out his answer. “Ruler,” a pause, then, “Sir.”
Ilya gave one slow nod of his head, “Good girl. Now, lean over the desk for me.” He released Shane and stepped back to watch his husband approach the desk, as instructed. Slowly, he leaned over, his hands collapsed over the far edge.
The sight was a wonder to behold. Shane’s legs automatically spread, baring more of his lace covered ass, the short hem of the skirt concealing absolutely nothing. Ilya stepped behind him, the ruler in his hand aching to move, to turn the soft skin of Shane’s ass a shade of red, similar to the panties covering his pussy.
With the edge of the small, wooden item, he flipped the skirt up, revealing the rest of Shane’s ass. Ilya’s other hand reached out and gripped one of Shane’s cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh gently.
“Did you not follow instructions on purpose?” Ilya pondered aloud, “You wanted everyone to see this beautiful ass. The cute little panties you got, you wanted everyone to look at you. To want you, just like this.”
Shane shook his head and stammered, “N-no, sir.”
The ruler came back and landed with a loud smack just where Ilya’s hand had been. Shane yelped at the shock of the hit, his body immediately tensing as it waited for the next hit.
“You’re lying. You wanted this. Wanted everyone, especially me, to see you. See your wet cunt, I bet if I touched you right now, you’d be dripping already,” he taunted, earring a whimper from Shane’s throat. He gave another quick slap of the ruler, less harsh than the first one. “Tell me the truth, Mr. Hollander.”
Shane moaned quietly, “I’m sorry, sir. I wanted you to touch me. I didn’t…I didn’t know how else.”
Ilya leaned over Shane, trailing one hand slowly down his ass and under to cup his pussy. His arousal was evident, the lace wet on his fingers. “So,” he began whispering, “You wore this slutty little skirt, didn’t change when you were told, all so you could get me to touch you? Is that right?”
His husband whimpered below him, and gave a single nod. He tsk’d again in response, “Words, Mr. Hollander. Or you won’t get what you want.”
He watched Shane’s upper body move as he took in a deep breath. “Yes, sir,” he answered quietly, “I wore this…slutty skirt to get your attention. Because I wanted you.”
“Ah, so you can follow instructions. Only when you’re bent over with your ass and dripping pussy on display, unfortunately,” Ilya chided, “I’ll ask one more question. How many hits do you think a slut like you deserves?”
Ilya moved back up off Shane, and rested the flat of the ruler across his ass cheeks. A red spot already beginning to bloom on his cheeks from his first two swats.
Shane took in a shaky breath and turned his head to answer, “However many you think best, sir.”
Fuck.
Ilya felt a rush of blood flow through his body at the answer, his dick, already halfway hard, was pressing cruelly at the fabric of the stiff dress pants he’d put on. He cleared his throat prior to answering.
“Well, you’ve already received two. So, let’s say thirteen more, to make it to fifteen. One for each centimeter your skirt should be from now on,” he said evenly, “Does that seem fair?”
“Y-yes. Thank you, sir.”
A shiver ran down Ilya’s spine. He was going to go insane before he finished dealing out Shane’s punishment.
“Thank me each time. And count aloud,” he forced out, “Can you do that for me?”
Shane nodded, and before Ilya could open his own mouth to tell him to use his words, he quickly added, “Yes sir. I will count. I promise.”
He rubbed at the red spots on Shane’s ass comfortingly, “That’s my good girl. I knew she was in there somewhere.” Before Ilya could stop himself, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the bare skin at the base of Shane’s spine. He shuddered under him as Ilya stood back up. “If you’re good, and follow directions, I might let you come.”
There was a quiet groan in response to his promise, and the sound went straight to his groin, which he knew was probably leaking in his pants.
“Color?” he asked before proceeding, giving Shane one last chance to back out it was too much.
“Green,” he answered with enthusiasm. “I’m ready, sir.”
Ilya felt his body prepare underneath his hand that was resting on his lower back, holding the small length of the skirt up. With a deep breath, Ilya raised the ruler up and brought it down again with a loud smack.
Shane grunted, and said, “Three. Thank you, sir.”
He repeated the motion, moving the ruler around on his cheeks till the whole thing started to look red and splotchy. When he came down with hit number nine, that was the first time Shane cried out.
“Nine,” his voice wobbled, “Thank…thank you, sir.”
Ilya noticed the tears gathering in his husband’s eyes as his face turned to the side on the surface of the desk. It was scrunched up, clearly in pain. They’d played rough like this before, but Ilya couldn’t recall a time they’d exceeded ten.
Before he could ask, Shane uttered, “Green. Please, don’t stop.”
With Ilya’s free hand, he palmed himself over his pants, desperate for some sort of relief on his cock as his perfect husband begged for more.
“So perfect for me,” he praised before adjusting his position so the brunt of the strikes hit untouched skin.
The ruler was raised back, and landed once again with a sharp smack.
“Fuck, ten. Thank you, sir,” Shane bit out. Ilya could see the steady rise and fall of each breath, it became more frequent as they neared the end. He took his hand off his cock and caressed the sore cheeks of Shane’s ass.
“Almost there, baby. It will be so worth it,” he cooed.
Shane was moaning as the strikes continued. Eleven, then twelve, and then thirteen. When he pulled the ruler back for the last two, Ilya had one more idea spark in his mind. Lowering the ruler in his hand, he gently pressed it between Shane’s legs.
“Would this be okay?” he asked.
“Holy shit, yes. Please,” Shane begged. Ilya nearly growled in response, his desire causing his control over himself to blur.
He nodded, not that Shane could see, and used the ruler to gently tap the inside of his thighs. The silent instruction was heeded, and Shane wiggled his legs further apart, giving Ilya better access to his pussy.
“Just two more,” he reminded gently.
Shane nodded, his hands clasped to the edge of the desk tightly as his body prepared for the last two strikes.
Ilya pulled the ruler away, and then brought it upwards quickly. The smacking sound was different, and Ilya knew it was because of the wetness soaking his husband’s center.
“FUCK!” Shane cried out, “Holy shit…fourteen. Th-thank you, sir.” He was so thankful there was only one more, because he needed to be inside Shane now.
The ruler was brought away quickly, and returned to hit Shane’s wet pussy one last time with an even louder smack.
“Oh my god,” Shane moaned, “Fuck, I’m…fifteen. Thank you, sir.”
Ilya dropped the ruler to the ground and ripped the soaked, lace panties off of Shane, the remnants falling to the ground. He left him there, drenched and spread wide open as he struggled to undo the button on his pants. Once he had them shoved down his legs, not even caring to take them all the way off, he lined himself up to Shane’s pulsing entrance.
“I will not last long,” he warned as he pushed himself in.
The arousal leaking from his husband provided ample lubrication as he slid in with ease, both of them groaning in unison as they finally received the touches they’d been yearning for. Shane shuddered around him, pushing back slightly to meet Ilya’s thrust. He looked down as their bodies joined, and groaned at the beautiful sight.
“I wish I could take a picture of this. My cock buried deep inside you, your ass painted red. Those pretty panties ruined on the ground,” Ilya said with a soft moan as Shane’s cunt clenched around him at the words, “And those white socks halfway up your legs. I’d print it out and frame it. Leave it where everyone who comes to our house could see.”
Shane whimpered as he painted the image aloud for him. Ilya pulled out, and thrusted back in roughly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everyone knowing that my Shane, my husband, makes such a pretty little whore,” another thrust, accenting the name.
Beneath him, Shane was whimpering, crying again. Ilya maintained a steady rhythm of thrusts, in and out as he spoke, “And you’d let me, wouldn’t you? Show you off? My good girl, and her wet pussy. Always ready for cock, right?” He managed a nod and an affirmative sound as Ilya continued pounding into him.
Ilya was close, so fucking close, to coming inside. He wanted to spill into his husband, fill up his cunt and watch it drip out of him onto the ground.
“I’m so close, baby,” Ilya told him, his thrusts becoming less steady as he chased his climax, “Are you going to come for me too? Come all over my cock. My good, good slut.”
Shane cried out, his body clenching around his cock as he thrust once more and began to spill his orgasm inside. He felt Shane’s body shudder as he came around him, the wetness seeping from deep inside, their climaxes joining together as Ilya stilled inside.
“Fuck,” Shane exhaled after he’d come down from the high of his orgasm, “That was perfect, sir.”
Ilya leaned down and pressed a kiss to his back, the thin tank top drenched in sweat from their efforts. He didn’t care, it was still one of the hottest things he’d ever seen.
“I love you so much, Shane,” he whispered.
When he stood up and began to pull out, Shane shot a hand back, trying to grab him.
“Wait,” he said. Ilya stopped and met his eyes, turned back to look at him.
His face was already red from exertion, but there was a sheepish look in his eyes that let Ilya know he’d be blushing. Ilya took his hand, and squeezed it gently, encouraging him to go on.
“Take the picture,” Shane whispered.
Ilya licked his lips and stifled a moan. He nodded and looked around to see where he’d left his phone. It was on the desk, just off to the side near where he’d originally been sitting. Shane grabbed it and handed it over to him. He snapped a few with his cock still buried inside, then slowly pulled out, and took a few more of their combined orgasms beginning to seep out of Shane’s pussy.
“I won’t print them. But, I will definitely look at these…a lot,” Ilya told him.
Shane chuckled as Ilya helped him stand back up, holding his body flush to his as Shane’s legs were a little unsteady from the intensity of the past hour.
“Let’s get some ice on this and then I’ll draw you a bath,” Ilya offered, pressing a sweet kiss to his husband’s lips.
He hummed in appreciation, returning the kiss as a smile grew on his face. When they parted and Ilya stepped towards the door to go get the ice packs, Shane opened his mouth to ask one more question.
“Will you join me in the bath…sir?”