Last Year Chapter 13

Last Year – Chapter 13

Daniel got up early, his body still heavy from Saturday. The bathroom mirror was the first blow of reality. The bites on his neck had darkened to a deep purple with reddish edges; the largest one, just below the left jawline, was impossible to ignore when he turned his head. The others, smaller, dotted the clavicle and the base of the neck like an invisible but painful collar. He buttoned up his white uniform shirt all the way, raising the stiff collar to cover everything. The fabric rubbed against the wounds every time he swallowed or turned his head — a burning, intimate reminder.

His nipples, still inflamed, protested against the ironed shirt. Every movement of his torso sent sharp pinches. His wrists had pink grooves that were less noticeable if he kept his sleeves properly in place, but they hurt when he bent them to write. The inner thighs, with bluish bruises in the shape of fingers, burned when he walked; each step was a touch that made him clench his teeth. The lower back, with fine lines from the whip, complained when he leaned over to tie his shoes.

He put on his complete uniform: white shirt tucked in, grey pants with subtle blue and white lines, dark blue tie properly knotted (the symbol that now activated the game when touched twice), high grey socks, and polished black shoes. He didn't insert a plug or cock ring — Santiago had said that the week would be quiet, without physical toys. Just eroticism, just words, just looks.

He arrived at school walking stiffly, taking short steps to avoid rubbing his bruises too much. When he entered the classroom, he felt Santiago's gaze from the back. He was sitting in his usual desk, athletic body occupying the space, white shirt tense over his pectorals and shoulders. His eyes locked onto Daniel as if he could see through the buttoned-up shirt.

During the first class (math), Daniel sat down with extreme care. The hard desk pressed against the bruises on his thighs; he had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid gasping. Santiago, two rows back, didn't take his eyes off him. Every time Daniel turned his head to look at the blackboard, he felt the tug of the bites and knew that Santiago noticed.

WhatsApp messages (between classes, discreetly):

Santiago (09:47): "How do you feel my mouth on your neck every time you turn your head? I bet you're clenching your teeth to avoid moaning in class."

Daniel (09:49): "Yes... it hurts nicely. Every time I swallow, I feel your teeth. The bruises on my thighs... when I sit down, I almost scream."

Santiago (09:50): "Good boy. Look back. I want to see you blush."

Daniel looked discreetly. Santiago had a slow, possessive smile. He winked at him. Daniel lowered his gaze, his face burning.

In the hallway, they met "by chance" near the bathrooms. Santiago approached, pretending to adjust his tie.

—Lift your chin a bit and give a ...