#deserved though

Nothing could have prepared Easterman for his return to his office. It was usually in perfect shape, but now it looked as if a storm had swept through it. Books and files were strewn around the floor, and when he attempted to pick up some of them, he noticed dirty boot prints on the ground. Prints that he followed all the way behind his desk where the suspect was still lying on the ground, smoking his cigarettes and reading his journal.

"Boy, ya sure do complain a lot!" Coyle laughs, turning his gaze away from the journal to Easterman. Those dark, melancholy eyes were staring right at him. "OOOOooo how scary.." Coyle taunts while throwing the journal aside.

"Why did you ruin my office?" The doctor glares at him while his fists curl and uncurl at the thought of strangling the police officer.

“Why’re you upset? I know ya can just git someone to clean it up."

“God da-..Leland, that isn't the point. I've told you to before to quit tampering with my belongings…Sometimes you behave like a child.” Coyle sticks his tongue out and uses his foot to poke the doctor’s leg. “There ya go. Complainin’ like some woman!” He laughs then shouts in surprise as Easterman grabs his ankle and pulls him forward.

After turning the man over onto his stomach, Easterman ties Coyle's hands behind his back with his tie. "Just what in the hell do ya think yer doin?!” As the police officer shouts, the doctor grabs his dark graying hair and pulls him up. Then, using a firm hold, he drags him over his spread knees and placing him over his lap.

“Since you want to act like a brat..I’m going to beat you like one." Pulling Coyle's jeans down to his thighs, he says. “You’ll refer to me as sir and you’re going to count each blow.”

“Ya gotta be fuckin’ jokin’! Let me up-AH!” When Easterman's palm lands hard and heavy against Coyle's right cheek with a loud clap, causing the man to cry out in surprise.

“Can you count, Sergeant? I can’t hear you.”

“I-I’m not going to-“

SLAP

Coyle grunts his body jolting forward slightly from the blow. He was surprised at how hard the other man could hit.

“T-Two…sir..” Leland said breathlessly. The pain was hot and burning, but there was a pleasure in it too, and when the third blow came down, Coyle groaned,

“Three…three,sir..”

By the tenth, he felt as though his ass was burning red and bright, and there was a burning heat in more than his ass. His stomach felt tight, tight with tension, and his whole body was hot, his cock rubbing up against Hendrick’s thigh whenever his hand landed down

By the twentieth, the pain had on one hand subsided some, and on another was furthering with every strike, the skin burning so much it felt like it would peel, and yet there was such a pleasure in it that Coyle almost felt he could cry. He was digging his nails into his palms now as he whimpered, “T-Twenty-two, sir.”

“I hope you recall that this is a punishment, Leland,” said Easterman, landing a firm blow on the back of his thigh, just under the curve of his left cheek, and Coyle yelped like a kicked dog, gritting his teeth and trying to swallow the sound back.

“Yes! T-twenty-three, sir!”

“Someone might come in if they hear you being so loud.” Purred Easterman pleasantly, and his hand clapped down again, pushing the air out of Leland’s lungs and making his cock jump like a soldier told to stand to attention.

Coyle shuddered. “Twenty-four..s-sir,” he said breathing heavily.

“Good boy, Leland.”

On the thirtieth the cop was breathless and dizzy: by the thirty-fifth he was sobbing between blows, and Dr.Easterman was delivering each of them faster, louder.

When his punishment was at an end and Coyle had called out the final fortieth blow, he lay for a few minutes over Hendrick’s lap, trying not to sob too openly. He could barely move, trembling all over, cock hard and pressed against the doctor’s thigh, although he was far too tired to grind his hips.

Standing was difficult, trying to push himself up without use of his hands was a little awkward. When the cop stumbled, the doctor caught him by the plush, round curve of his hip, and instead of shoving him away, he pulled Coyle back into his lap.

Leland let out a reedy noise, but Easterman gripped him tighter, spreading his legs with his right hand so that Coyle was arranged and accessible. His ass burned in this position, sat in the doctor’s lap, and he stared down at his cock poking out from the thick hair between his legs, shirt stuck to his sweaty body.

Dr.Easterman’s other hand came up, sliding against the side of Coyle’s neck, cupping his jaw. The movement was tender, gentle, and the officer leaned his cheek into it, head spinning.

“..I won’t..I wont do it a-again..” Coyle hiccuped out. “M’ sorry…”

“I know you are, Leland.” said the doctor softly, and pressed his nose against the back of the cop’s neck, inhaling, and his lips brushed against it through the fabric of his shirt as his other hand undoes the binding on Coyle’s wrists.

It then moved to delicately grasp the officer’s throbbing erection, his thumb strummed over his the head as though he were plucking at a cello string. Coyle’s head jerks back as he moaned loudly, his hips pumping upward wanting more friction.

“Good boy,Just like that,” Easterman’s voice was soft and soothing now. He was squeezing harder, pumping faster, and when Coyle came it was a painfully pleasurable thing, made him bite down hard on his lip to keep from crying aloud, and Hendrick rocked him gently through it, hushing him softly.

Leland was breathing heavily, tears still stained on his cheeks, aware of his weight in Easterman’s lap, aware of the doctor’s arms holding him in place, aware of the sweat on his skin and the burn of his ass.

“Clean up my office, Leland.” The doctor mummers in his ear.