Kota stayed buried inside Theo for another long moment, letting the last sluggish pulses of his release empty into that impossibly full heat. Theo's walls fluttered weakly around him—overstimulated, exhausted, still trying to milk even though there was nothing left to give. The principal's body trembled in fine, constant shivers; his forearms had long since given out and now lay flat against the desk, cheek pressed to the wood, breath fogging the surface in short, ragged bursts.
Kota finally eased back slow, deliberate until the thick head popped free with a wet, obscene sound. A thick gush of cum immediately followed, white and viscous, pouring out in a steady stream that ran down Theo's inner thighs, soaked the ruined thong completely, and puddled on the carpet between his spread feet. Theo whimpered at the sudden emptiness, hips twitching like his body didn't know what to do without something stretching him open.
"Daddy…" Theo breathed again, voice cracked and small. "Please… Daddy, don't go yet…"
There it was again. That word. Soft, needy, slipping out like it belonged there.
Kota's hand moved before he could think. Not hard. Not cruel. Just a firm, open-palmed slap across one massive cheek.
The sound cracked through the office—sharp, meaty, echoing off the bookshelves.
Theo's entire body jerked. His back arched violently. A high, broken moan tore out of him—loud enough that Kota's heart stuttered, certain someone in the hallway would hear.
And then impossibly Theo came.
Not a dribble this time. A sudden, forceful spurt erupted from his tiny, untouched nub, clear and watery, arcing out in a pathetic little jet that splattered across the front of the desk and dripped down the wood. His hole clenched hard around nothing, pushing out another thick rope of Kota's cum in rhythm with the orgasm. Theo sobbed once pleasure and shock mixed then went limp again, panting.
Kota blinked. Stared.
What the fuck?
Theo's glasses thin, wire framed things he must have put on just for today had flown off with the force of his own reaction. They skittered across the desk and clattered to the floor. Without them, his face looked… softer. Younger. Long, rounded features soft high cheekbones, delicate jaw, plump lips swollen from biting them earlier. His eyes big, wet, prey wide stared up at Kota with something between adoration and terror. Mascara tracks streaked down his cheeks like war paint. He looked utterly wrecked. And utterly fuckable.
Kota's cock still slick, still half-hard—gave an interested twitch.
He slapped the other cheek.
Harder this time.
Theo's moan was even louder raw, shameless. His body bucked forward, ass pushing back instinctively. Another spurt smaller, weaker—leaked from his spent nub, dribbling down his thigh to join the mess already there. His hole winked open and closed, pushing out more cum in slow, lazy pulses.
Kota exhaled through his nose. A slow, dark smile tugged at his mouth.
That… was useful.
Very useful.
He filed that away Theo came from slaps. Hard slaps. The knowledge settled somewhere primal in his chest, heavy and satisfying.
Theo was still trembling, ass high, cheeks red and handprinted now—two perfect palm marks glowing against pale skin. He looked back over his shoulder, eyes glassy, lips parted.
"Daddy…" he whispered again.
Kota reached down, gripped Theo's chin firm, not gentle and tilted his face up.
"Quiet," he said softly. "You're loud enough already."
Theo nodded frantically, tears spilling fresh. But his lips curved just a tiny, wrecked smile.
Kota pulled out the rest of the way slow watching the gape of Theo's hole, the way it stayed open for a heartbeat before starting to close, thick cum still leaking in steady drops. Theo whimpered at the loss, thighs shaking so badly his knees nearly buckled.
Before Kota could say anything else, Theo scrambled upright wobbly, graceless and darted toward the tall filing cabinet in the corner. His thong was useless now at his ankles, soaked, riding up between his cheeks like dental floss. Cum dripped down his legs with every hurried step, leaving wet footprints on the carpet.
He yanked open the bottom drawer nearly pulling it off the rails and retrieved a plain envelope, thick and heavy. He hurried back, holding it out with both hands like an offering.
Kota took it. Raised an eyebrow.
Theo swallowed. "Ten… ten thousand," he said, voice hoarse. "Cash. It's the least I could do. For… for yesterday. For today. For… helping me. You were you are amazing. I've never… no one's ever…"
Kota opened the flap.
Tens of crisp hundred-dollar bills stared back at him rubber-banded stacks, neatly arranged. Ten thousand dollars. More money than he'd ever held at once. More than Khalil made in 2 months after taxes.
His stomach twisted gratitude, suspicion, guilt, excitement, all at once.
He looked up at Theo.
"How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to my dad?" Kota asked quietly. "Walk in the door with ten grand in cash and say, 'Hey, Pops, I fucked a femboy principal so hard he fell in love and gave me ten thousand to keep fucking him'?"
Theo flinched. "I—I didn't think—"
"Exactly." Kota closed the envelope. "You didn't."
(holy shit i REALLY wanna punch kota rn for that fuckass sentence)
Theo's eyes dropped. "I'm sorry. I just… wanted to show you I'm serious. That this isn't just… just sex. Or—or gratitude. It's… more."
Kota studied him, really studied him. The mascara-streaked face. The trembling lips. The way Theo's hands twisted together nervously, still sticky with his own cum and lube. The red handprints on his ass. The way he stood there naked except for the ruined thong looking small and hopeful and utterly devoted.
Something in Kota softened. Just a fraction.
He stepped closer, cupped Theo's cheek again—this time gentler.
"Hold onto it," he said. "Keep it safe. I'll take it when I need it. Not now."
Theo's eyes widened. "You—you mean…?"
"Yeah. Later. When it makes sense. When I can actually do something with it without my dad losing his shit."
Theo nodded fast—eager, relieved. "Okay. Okay, yes. I'll keep it. Safe. I promise."
He turned—ass jiggling with the motion—and hurried back to the filing cabinet. There was a small wall safe mounted behind a framed diploma—nothing fancy, just a basic combination lock. Theo spun the dial with shaking fingers, opened it, and slid the envelope inside. He shut the door, spun the lock again, and turned back to Kota.
"It's… it's secure. Only I have the combination. No one else. Not even my father."
Kota nodded once. "Good."
Theo hesitated. Bit his lip. "Um… about my number. You—you said yesterday I should've texted. But… you don't have your phone on you, do you?"
Kota shook his head. "Dad's rules. No phone at school. Ever. He thinks it's all 'filth' and 'distractions.'"
Theo's face fell for a second—then brightened. "I—I can fix that. I'll… I'll slip a burner into your locker. Or—or leave a note with my number somewhere only you'll see. The bathroom stall on the second floor? Third from the left? I can write it on the inside of the door. No one ever checks there."
Kota considered it. "Yeah. That works. Just… make sure no one sees you do it."
"I won't. I swear." Theo stepped closer—hesitant, like he was afraid Kota would bolt. "And… and you'll come back? Right? You'll… you'll use me again?"
Kota looked down at him—at the smeared makeup, the swollen lips, the hopeful, prey-wide eyes.
He reached out—slow—and hooked a finger under the front strap of the thong. Tugged once. Theo gasped, stumbling forward half a step.
"Maybe," Kota said. "If you're good."
Theo's breath hitched. "I'll be good. I promise, Daddy. I'll be so good."
Kota let the strap snap back against skin—light, teasing.
Theo shivered.
Kota stepped back, finally reaching for his boxers and jeans on the floor. "Clean yourself up before next period. You look like you just got railed in the principal's office."
Theo laughed—shaky, delighted. "I… I did."
Kota smirked as he pulled his boxers up, tucking himself away. "Yeah. You did."
He stepped into his jeans—slow, deliberate—watching Theo watch him. The principal hadn't moved to dress yet; he just stood there in the ruined thong, cum still leaking down his thighs, handprints glowing on his ass, looking like the happiest disaster Kota had ever seen.
Kota zipped up. Buckled his belt.
He paused at the door—hand on the knob.
"Number," he reminded Theo. "Burner. Or note. Soon."
Theo nodded frantically. "Today. Before lunch. I promise."
Kota gave him one last look—long, assessing—then opened the door just enough to slip through.
He didn't look back.
But he could feel Theo's eyes on him the whole way out—adoring, wrecked, waiting.
The hallway was quiet—classes in session, only the distant murmur of voices and the occasional locker slam. Kota walked slowly toward the science wing, pulse still thundering in his ears, the faint taste of power lingering on his tongue.
Ten thousand dollars in a safe.
A principal who came from slaps and called him Daddy.
Yeah.
He was definitely starting to like this.