Chapter Text
“So, comfortable?” Edge asked with what Joseph could only describe as a maniacal grin. “It’s been a while since I last tied someone up.”
Joseph literally rattled his own chains in response – twisting the handcuffs to make noise, as hard as he could, even if, due to them being tied to a table leg, he couldn’t move them much more – and did his best devil-may-care smile. “Got bored of ignoring me, asshole?”
It probably didn’t work very well, he realised after a moment. Hard to look daring when you were frogtied to the ground and had your arms as out of the way as possible. Thank god for the jockstrap and cock cage he was wearing, otherwise Edge might have been witness to what Bratford insisted on calling a “natural reaction”. The underwear even left his backside up for grabs. Or, in this case, spanks.
“For the most part I wanted you to settle down before I started the questioning, pet.” Edge maintained his smirk, gesticulating with a long and red riding crop. “Although, I will admit, I did want to see you get all needy and annoyed like this.”
Joseph’s cheeks burned at the humiliation, but a deeper and truer part of him was glad for it. He had arrived at Bratford a couple hours ago and, in a moment of unparalleled emotional honesty, had told his dorm prefect that insisted on being called Edge that he’d need close supervision and, if not physically forced to admit to his needs, would lie about them forever. He’d blurted it out within ten minutes of arriving, before he’d even met any of his dormmates. Too blunt, most likely, but in his defense he was three hours jet-lagged.
So here he was – bound, mostly naked, and with a hot guy with tricoloured hair threatening to spank him with a riding crop if he didn’t give direct responses. And he’d crossed the entire fucking Atlantic to get this.
“So, lemme guess how this’ll go.” Joseph ignored his own embarrassment, and decided to play offensive. “You’ll make a question, if I quip in response I get spanked, if I actually answer you spare me the rod. This goes until you run out of questions or, more likely, you get tired of me and run out of space to spank. Got anything wrong?”
They had loosely discussed how this was going to go already – or, to be more precise, Edge had asked if what he’d planned was okay and Joseph hadn’t said no, which was apparently enough for him. So, of course, they both knew very well his “guess” was wrong. Edge, a prick by nature, laughed at it. With it, came the sharp sound of the crop flying, and, a moment later, the sting of pain. It wasn’t the worst he’d experienced, but he’d had no warm-up and had been distracted. It only stung for a few seconds, but as it was fading, Edge swatted again, seemingly to punctuate his yet-unmade point. The implement’s head was made of pleather, it seemed, very bendy such that it’d take quite a few swats before any damage was actually made. The asshole had prepared for a long session, huh?
“It won’t be this easy for you, lil’ pet. Oh no,” he said, crop dangerously close to Joseph’s ass. “I’ll hit you for every sentence you say, no matter what. But we’ll only proceed with a question once I’m satisfied with the answer, so we might be here for a long time. And don’t you worry about your arse having too much, this crop’s light enough you’ll have no risk. Understand me?”
Joseph nodded, but the dom hit again.
“Verbal answers only, Jo. Also, colour?” He’d kept his grin until now, but it softened a bit towards the end. Joseph resisted the urge to sigh. Would that he’d actually gotten an uncaring sadist. A man can dream, right?
“Green, assho— ‘sir.’ Green as grass.” He put as much spite into the “sir” as he could, and was rewarded with three more swats, enough that the sting didn’t fade immediately. Good.
“The last one was for language and tone, pet. You should strive to keep polite when being disciplined.” He spoke the word as if it meant the exact opposite. “First question, what do you want from this?”
Joseph rolled his eyes, and put on the worst British accent he could. “Because I wanted an English ars’ole to bloody spank me bloody, mate. Eleven hours of flight plus three and a half by a bloody train do tend to make one a mite antsy, mate. And, fin’ly, I wanted t’ see how hot youse look’d while spankin’. Mate.”
Four hits, all in the same spot, and Joseph resisted the urge to react. He wouldn’t let himself be that easy. Edge’s smile got slightly less mean, and he actually spoke like a normal person for a moment. Was that him avoiding laughing?
“Your accent’s impressively bad, congrats. Almost as bad as you speaking in American English. Not what I’m looking for, though. So do try again, pet.”
The nickname went straight to his cock, and he was once more thankful for the cage. Fucking the dorm prefect would’ve been a terrible idea. He could brat a bit more on this question, though.
“Você tenta ter essa monstruosidade de língua que vocês chamam de inglês como o seu terceiro idioma, ‘Afiado‘. Eu te pedi pra me amarrar e espancar por pura diversão, pensei que era óbvio. Tô adorando ficar desse jeito.” Joseph realised as each swat came that this was, most likely, more than the average dorm prefect did. considering what had been in the handbook. He’d immediately clocked Edge as an incorrigible sadist, though, so he was his best chance at getting this without annoying anyone else.
“Portuguese, Joseph? Can’t believe you’d use that trump card in bratting so soon. Running outta steam?” He stopped for a moment, as if in deep thought, but then beamed and raised a finger, evilly. “Ah, I got your meaning! You wanted double, right?”
And double Joseph did get as he swallowed curses. By now, the pain was actually sticking, and he decided to answer in earnest.
“Because—because I wanted to test you. And because I have special needs, and know I wouldn’t ever tell you them otherwise. And because I’m a freak who can’t be honest unless he’s suffering. That enough for you, ‘sir?‘”
The last sentence was almost interrupted by a hit with the crop, harder than anything before. Three more followed, all at the same level, and by the end Joseph’s ass felt like it was on fire for a moment. When he looked at Edge, his eyes had significantly less mirth than before. Fuck, fuck, fuck. he’d already fucked up, huh? Edge was mad and he’d fucked up and—
“Do not,” Edge started, his lips wiped off the smirk and pressed tightly “insult yourself, Joseph. In Bratford, that won’t be tolerated. You aren’t a freak, even if you sure are special, as you also put it. Understand me?”
A moment later the grin returned, and it felt like a weight had been taken off Joseph’s chest. He laughed. The asshole was just annoyed at his self-deprecation. He could deal with that. Joseph nodded, and Edge continued.
“Next question, pet, is what, exactly, are your ‘special needs’? What’s the diagnosis here?.”
It was Joseph’s turn to press his lips, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The asshole already knew – it was in his file, for god’s sake. There was just enough fear of rejection he did give a straight answer, however. “Autism, ‘sir.’ Probably ADHD as well, although I haven’t yet gotten the diagnosis for that.”
Two swats, lighter than the ones before, but above the first set. Either upping the strength as they went, or Edge had just decided he needed more. He wouldn’t deny that assumption.
“Good boy, very good indeed,” Edge said, patting his head with the fucking crop. The burn of humiliation once again spread throughout his body, and he resisted the urge to lean into it. “Now, which specifics should I know about that, pet?”
The interrogation went for a while more, with Joseph mostly giving non-answers for two or three rounds before he broke. Edge kept his smirk all the while, a safe place that didn’t waver for the entire hour this took. Joseph hated a bit how much that meant.
“So, little boy, how you feeling?” Edge asked, caressing Joseph’s hair as slowly as he could. His head was laying on the other’s lap, both on the sinfully comfortable sofa Edge had been on before. It was calm, as if the noise of the world had quieted for a moment. Joseph knew by experience it wouldn’t last.
“As if you’d spanked me until I cried and beyond, ‘sir.‘” An exaggeration, that. No tears had been spilled, the spanking hadn’t been hard enough for that, but he adored exaggerating. At the same time, he knew it to be ridiculous, trying to give lip while his hair was stroked as if he was a kid. His ass was still rose-red and Edge had taken the time to rub arnica over it, for god’s sake. And yet, he did it anyways. “Did you at least get any useful information out of torturing me?”
Edge chuckled, pulling his hair just enough that it wouldn’t hurt, but forcing Joseph to pay attention to it.
“I should probably remind you that you literally asked for it, and I’m pretty sure you also liked it, but whatever. I did, boy, yes. The main one that you’re a very special boy indeed. A very annoying one, too.”
Joseph opened his mouth to give a retort, but the dom’s pull strengthened for a moment. Don’t speak, was the message. That was good. If Edge was still willing to discipline him for something that basic, it meant he didn’t think Joseph was too much.
“I’m doing Applied Discipline, I’m not sure I told you,” Edge began, letting go of Joseph’s hair and back to petting it. His tone was soft as silk, but somehow infuriatingly smug at the same time. He had to have practiced for that. “And last year we had, as a class subject, Introduction to Discipline Cognizant of Neurodivergencies. A pretty complicated topic, all around, considering how varied it can get. As it turns out, I aced the class, though.
“I’m saying this, pet, to assure you that I can handle you.” And wan’t that music to his fucking ears? “I will by no means be perfect, and I’ll probably fail as your dorm prefect time and again. But I do know what I’m doing, for the most part, and, after we had this little chat of ours, I’m pretty confident I can do this.”
The fact the asshole had realised Joseph’s insecurities without him ever saying them was also a mark in his favor, but he knew Edge wouldn’t want him to say it now. Or anything. He didn’t fully hate that.
“But,” and didn’t those fucking words bring back all the cold into his veins? “you should probably get a mentor, Joseph.”
“What—!” He tried to protest, but there was another tug. Sharp. Edge continued, as he whined.
“No speaking, lil’ boy. Not until I give you permission, ‘kay?” The fucking smile was back. Sadistic asshole. “I can handle you, Joseph, but I’ll have four other kids to handle. At times, as I said, I’ll fail, and it’d be best if you had someone else to help you. Bratford attracts tamers seeking a challenge like flies to honey, and I’m pretty sure they can even get extra credit from your autism. Uh, sorry if citing that as a selling point’s too much.”
Joseph giggled. If anything, that was good to hear. He was mostly aware this was more than most got out of their dorm prefect, and even someone as invested into spanking as Edge would have his limits. A mentor, though. If Edge thought it’d work, Joseph could almost believe it.
“Other than that, I’ve gotten a tonne of information about you, pet. Like you being an inveterate liar.” That was probably from when Joseph insisted for a few minutes he was actually a misdiagnosed dom. Or when he started to say Edge wasn’t actually supposed to be his dorm prefect. Or about how the crop wasn’t actually hurting. Many options there. “I also know more of your sensory issues, but I’ll need a written list to keep them all in mind. If you need ‘help‘ writing it, I’m sure I can get you a punishment mat.
“Next thing, I’ll draft a few extra rules for you. You seem like the sort of boy who’ll need all the spankings he can get, pet, and I’d love to have any excuse to get my hands on your arse again.” He punctuated that with a slap, too weak to sting due to position. “You’ll still be able to breathe without getting swats, we don’t have that much time, but there’ll be so many ways you can brat at me. Your colour on that?”
He kept silent for a moment, too used to not have to speak and think, but managed it soon enough, “Green, ‘sir.‘”
He made sure to make the “sir” sound as sarcastic as possible, as always. Maybe a mood-breaker, but he wouldn’t let it be this easy. Edge ignored it, and grinned like like a kid on Christmas morning. He did that a lot, smiling. Joseph still wasn’t sure if it was an act to make himself unnerving or just genuine joy.
“I think that’s more or less it for now, boy. You should go get ready for bed. Orientation will take a while, and you must be exhausted.,” He gave Joseph a final caress to the head and and manhandled his body into a sitting position. “Also, Joseph, you don’t need to cage yourself to prevent an erection. It’s a perfectly natural body reaction.”
“What?!” the other cried. “You knew?!”
The fucking asshole slapped his back harder than any other spank so far, and Joseph almost whined, before remembering he wouldn’t give him satisfaction of that. Not fucking now.
“It got pretty obvious from the way it moved around, after a while,” Edge said, a dangerous edge to his tone. Once more, Joseph was glad for the cage, even if it got him into this conversation. “You’ll probably get hard a lot in the first few weeks, Joseph, and that’s something you’ll have to live with. Humiliation’s a big part of subbing, don’t you think?”
“I should tear your throat out so you’d stop speaking, is what I think,” he whimpered. “May I go now, ‘sir?‘”
“Dismissed, yeah.” The dorm prefect waved his hand, grinning. He was fully in his right to punish Joseph for the threat, but he imagined that wasn’t how Edge played, or at least not now. It didn’t matter much. Joseph got up, stretching his arms, and slowly left for his own room.
He realised he had yet to meet any of his dormmates despite term starting tomorrow. Oh well, Edge had mentioned that, in another one of his eccentricities, he didn’t want them to interact too much before dinner tomorrow, and surely none of them were already getting into trouble.