Chapter 14: Afterhours Discipline
The sharp crack echoed louder than Ace expected in the small room. CC jerked, a choked gasp escaping her lips as Ace’s palm connected solidly with the pale curve of her exposed ass. The force rocked CC forward onto her elbows, her blonde hair spilling over her face. Beneath the thin cotton of her sundress, her back muscles tensed like drawn wires.
"Fuck," Ace breathed, the word thick with a dark satisfaction. The sight – CC pinned face down, dress bunched around her waist, the vulnerable swell of her ass already flushing pink – sent a fresh surge of heat straight to Ace’s core. It warred with the simmering anger that had propelled her across campus after seeing CC giggling, pressed too close to that idiot frat boy at the coffee shop. Her CC.
"Thought I wouldn't see you?" Ace growled, her voice low and rough. She didn’t wait for an answer. Her left hand, large and calloused from bike chains and soccer balls, slid down the trembling slope of CC’s ass, fingers dipping deliberately into the slick heat already gathering between her thighs. CC whimpered, a high, desperate sound muffled by the mattress. "Flirting like a cheap fucking tease right where anyone could watch?"
Another sharp smack landed, lower this time, right where ass met thigh. CC cried out, her body arching involuntarily. "Ace! Stop! I wasn't–"
"Shut it," Ace snarled, her fingers finding CC’s soaked entrance. They plunged in without preamble, three thick digits stretching her wide. CC’s protest dissolved into a ragged sob, her hips bucking against the invasion. Ace curled her fingers, pressing hard against that spongy spot deep inside. CC gasped, her body clenching violently around Ace’s knuckles. "Fuck, you're dripping," Ace hissed, her own breath catching at the sheer, slick tightness. "Dripping for me while you play innocent with him? Is that it, princess? Need an audience?"
She pulled her fingers almost all the way out, watching the glistening evidence cling to her skin in the warm lamplight. The scent of CC’s arousal, musky and sweet, mingled with the dusty paper smell of Ace’s books. The fan whirred uselessly against the stifling heat building between them. Ace brought her wet fingers to CC’s mouth, pressing them roughly against her lips. "Taste it," she commanded, her voice thick with dominance. "Taste how fucking wet you get pretending you don't want this."
CC whimpered again, her eyes wide and terrified, but her lips parted obediently. Her tongue flickered hesitantly against Ace’s fingers, tasting herself. A shudder ran through her entire frame. The mix of fear, shame, and undeniable arousal radiating from her was intoxicating.
"Good girl," Ace murmured, the praise laced with a dark edge. She withdrew her fingers, leaving CC panting. Then, her hand descended again, sharp and stinging, landing squarely on the other cheek. The pink flush deepened, blooming into a darker rose. Ace alternated blows, rhythmic and hard, each impact punctuated by CC’s sharp cries and choked sobs. Ace watched the skin redden, watched the muscles ripple beneath, felt the answering clench deep inside CC’s cunt every time her palm connected. Her own jeans felt unbearably tight.
"Tell me," Ace demanded, her voice ragged now, her control fraying. She shoved her fingers back inside CC, deeper this time, grinding the heel of her hand against CC’s clit. CC screamed, her body bowing off the bed, her fingers clawing at the rumpled sheets. "Tell me who makes you this wet!"
"You!" CC gasped, the word ripped from her throat. "Only you, Ace! Fuck! Only you!"
Ace growled, a primal sound vibrating in her chest. She leaned forward, her taller frame pressing CC deeper into the mattress. Her free hand tangled brutally in CC’s blonde hair, yanking her head back. She pressed her lips to CC’s ear, her breath hot and ragged. "That’s right," she hissed, her fingers pistoning relentlessly inside the clutching heat, her thumb circling hard and fast on CC’s swollen clit. "My good fucking girl. Taking it so deep. Taking my fingers like the desperate little slut you are for me."
CC was sobbing openly now, tears streaking her flushed cheeks, her body convulsing around Ace’s thrusting hand. Her hips jerked erratically, trying to fuck back onto Ace’s fingers, trying to escape the overwhelming pressure on her clit. "Please... Ace... I can't... too much..."
"You can," Ace snarled, tightening her grip on CC’s hair. "You fucking will. Come on my fingers. Show me how much you belong to me." She slammed her fingers deep, curling them viciously, grinding her palm down. "Come!"
CC’s scream was raw, guttural. Her entire body locked rigid, then shattered. Wave after wave of violent spasms gripped Ace’s fingers as CC came, her cunt pulsing rhythmically, drenching Ace’s hand. Her cries dissolved into ragged, hiccuping breaths, her body collapsing bonelessly onto the bed, trembling uncontrollably.
Ace slowly withdrew her fingers, slick and glistening. She stared at CC’s ruined form – the tear-streaked face, the reddened ass, the glistening wetness between her thighs. The fierce anger had bled away, replaced by a possessive satisfaction so deep it felt like a physical ache. She lowered herself beside CC, her movements suddenly deliberate, almost gentle. She brushed damp strands of hair from CC’s forehead.
CC flinched at the touch, her eyes squeezed shut, her breathing still ragged. A fresh sob escaped her.
"Shhh," Ace murmured, her voice rough but softer now. She traced the heated skin of CC’s shoulder. "Easy." She pulled the bunched sundress down, covering CC’s trembling legs. The silence stretched, thick with the scent of sex and sweat and tears, broken only by CC’s shaky breaths and the fan’s persistent hum. Ace watched her, the fierce protectiveness warring with the dark possessiveness that had driven her actions. The vulnerability radiating from CC now was a different kind of tightness in Ace’s chest.
CC finally opened her eyes. They were red-rimmed, swollen, and filled with a confusion that cut deeper than any protest. She looked at Ace, really looked at her, the swagger momentarily absent, replaced by an intensity CC couldn’t decipher. The silence wasn't comfortable; it was charged, heavy with unspoken questions and the raw, undeniable truth of what had just happened. What kept happening. CC’s lower lip trembled. She turned her face back into the pillow, hiding, but her body remained utterly still, waiting. Ace’s hand hovered near her shoulder, unsure whether to pull away or pull her closer. The lamplight flickered, casting long, uncertain shadows across the room.
The lamplight flickered, casting long, uncertain shadows across the room. Ace’s hand remained suspended near CC’s shoulder, the knuckles still damp. CC’s small frame shuddered with aftershocks, her face buried in the pillow, muffling the ragged catch of her breath. The silence stretched, thick with expelled heat and the metallic tang of tears. Every rise and fall of CC’s back felt fragile, a stark contrast to the raw power Ace had wielded moments before.
Finally, Ace’s calloused fingers brushed tentatively against the damp skin of CC’s shoulder. CC flinched violently, a tiny gasp escaping the pillow. Ace froze, the sudden withdrawal in her gut sharper than any physical blow. “Easy,” she murmured, her voice rough sandpaper scraping against the quiet, devoid of its earlier command. She forced her hand to move again, sliding slowly, deliberately, down the curve of CC’s arm. “Just… easy now.”
Slowly, haltingly, CC turned her head. Her green eyes, swimming and red-rimmed, met Ace’s. They held no anger, just a profound, bewildered exhaustion and a vulnerability that made Ace’s throat tighten. Ace swallowed hard, the fierce possessiveness that had driven her actions now twisting into something heavy and complex. She reached across CC’s trembling body towards the nightstand, her movements careful not to jostle.
Her fingers fumbled slightly with the small bottle of water she kept there, unscrewing the cap. She shifted closer, the old springs groaning softly beneath her weight. “Here,” she said, voice low, holding the bottle near CC’s lips. “Small sips.”
CC hesitated, her gaze flickering from the bottle to Ace’s face, searching. Then, with a shaky nod, she let Ace tip the cool water into her mouth. She drank greedily, a few drops escaping to trail down her chin. Ace caught them with the pad of her thumb, the gesture awkwardly tender. “Slow,” Ace reminded her, pulling the bottle back after a few gulps. CC coughed weakly, sinking back against the pillow.
The air still hung thick with the scent of sex and salt. Ace scanned CC’s body – the rumpled sundress bunched awkwardly, the angry red flush blooming across her ass visible where the fabric gaped, the tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. A wave of protectiveness, fierce and unfamiliar in its gentleness, washed over Ace. She pushed herself up and off the bed, the floorboards creaking under her boots.
She went to her small closet, rummaging past hoodies and soccer gear until her fingers closed on worn, soft flannel. Returning to the bed, she gently, so gently, tugged the damp, twisted sundress up and over CC’s head. CC didn’t resist, just lay pliant, her eyes half-closed, exhaustion winning over modesty. Ace balled the dress and tossed it aside, then carefully draped the oversized flannel shirt over CC’s bare shoulders and back, covering the flushed skin.
Ace perched on the edge of the mattress, close but not crowding. Her hand found CC’s hair again, not gripping, but smoothing the tangled blonde strands away from her damp forehead. She traced the shell of CC’s ear with a feather-light touch. “Hurts?” Ace asked gruffly, her gaze fixed on the reddened curve barely visible beneath the flannel hem.
CC gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes squeezing shut. A fresh tear leaked out, tracing a slow path towards the pillow. Ace’s jaw clenched. She leaned down, her lips brushing the crown of CC’s head. The faint scent of vanilla and sweat filled her senses. “Gonna get you something.” She stood, heading towards the mini-fridge tucked under her desk.
She retrieved a cold can of grape soda – CC’s inexplicable favorite – and a slightly worn washcloth. She ran the cloth under the cold tap in the tiny ensuite sink, wringing it out thoroughly. Back at the bed, she placed the cold can gently against the reddest part of CC’s ass, covered by the flannel.
CC gasped softly at the sudden chill, her body tensing momentarily before relaxing into the cool relief. “Shhh,” Ace soothed, her voice a low rumble against CC’s hair as she pressed the makeshift compress. “Just the cold. Helps.” She kept the can in place with one hand, the other resuming its gentle petting of CC’s hair, her thumb stroking slow circles on CC’s temple. The frantic energy that usually buzzed beneath Ace’s skin was utterly still, replaced by a focused, almost solemn calm.
Minutes passed, measured only by the hum of the fan and CC’s gradually slowing breaths. The tremors subsided. Ace removed the soda can when the cold seeped through the flannel, replacing it with the cool, damp washcloth laid gently over the heated skin. She watched CC’s face relax incrementally, the tight lines around her eyes softening. Ace’s own rigid posture eased slightly, replaced by a profound, bone-deep weariness.
“Why?” The word was barely a whisper, muffled by the pillow. CC hadn’t opened her eyes.
Ace’s hand stilled in CC’s hair. The question hung like smoke. She couldn’t articulate the possessive fury, the desperate, clawing need that consumed her when she saw CC smiling at someone else. Couldn’t voice the terrifying depth of feeling that twisted into violence in her hands. “Dunno,” Ace finally rasped, the admission raw. “Just… can’t stand seeing you with… them.” Her fingers tightened minutely in the blonde silk, not demanding, just grounding. “You’re… mine.” It wasn’t a question. It felt like bedrock truth.
CC shifted slightly, turning her face more towards Ace. Her eyes opened, searching Ace’s face again, that familiar confusion warring with a dazed kind of acceptance. She didn’t argue. Didn’t protest the claim. She simply looked at Ace, her expression unreadable in the flickering light. Ace held her gaze, the silence deepening, charged with the aftermath and the unspoken question hanging between them: what did it mean that CC accepted this? That she took the roughness, the dominance, and now… this quiet tending? Ace’s thumb brushed a stray tear track on CC’s cheek, her touch lingering. CC’s eyelids fluttered shut again, a small sigh escaping her parted lips. Did it matter, right now, in the bruised quiet? The only certainty was the fragile warmth beneath Ace’s hand and the impossible, terrifying weight of what she’d claimed.