
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/96019.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gundam_00
  Relationship:
      Neil_Dylandy/OMC
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-06-21 Words: 2338
****** Of spying and its consequences ******
by AnselaJonla
Summary
     Lyle is caught spying on the girls' locker room by the PE teaching
     assistant and punished
Notes
     Written for this_prompt on the Gundam 00 kinkmeme. Beta'd by
     [[info]]
tea_fiend, who probably owns my soul by now. Football in this refers to the
proper stuff, as played in England. I don't know why Americans call over-
armoured rugby 'football' when there is hardly any contact between foot and
ball.

Entry tags: *genre:_yaoi, -gundam_00, .lyle_dylandy, .omc, :lyle_dylandy/omc,
            dub-con, rating:_15
Title: Of spying and its consequences
Author: Ansela Jonla
Fandom: Gundam 00
Rating: R
Warnings: dub-con, abuse of authority
Summary: Lyle is caught spying on the girls' locker room by the PE teaching
assistant and punished
Word Count: 2,234
Notes: Written for this_prompt on the Gundam 00 kinkmeme. Beta'd by [
[info]]tea_fiend, who probably owns my soul by now. Football in this refers to
the proper stuff, as played in England. I don't know why Americans call over-
armoured rugby 'football' when there is hardly any contact between foot and
ball.
Lyle licked his lips as he settled himself against the peephole in the wall of
the girls' locker room, thanking whatever god it was that decided that the
girls' school should share sports facilities with the boys'. Mr Harper could go
whistle dixie for all he cared; watching the girls get changed was much more
interesting than playing stupid football. Who knew, maybe he'd get lucky and
cop some lesbian action in that mysterious sanctum of female nakedness. Lyle
palmed his crotch, rubbing himself through his black uniform trousers as the
Year Eleven girls began to file into the changing rooms. Spotting Siobhan, who
was totally stacked, Lyle grinned. Definitely better than football. Even better
when Cìara and Bridget took the next two pegs, stripping off to reveal
luscious, smooth bodies and perky breasts, completely unaware of Lyle's
presence just on the other side of the wall.
Lyle was so engrossed in watching the girls, his trousers now down around his
ankles as he jerked off with his tie between his teeth to muffle his groans,
that he failed to notice the door to the equipment locker opening and closing.
He even failed to notice the bags of spare footballs being dragged behind the
door to block it from being opened again, lost in his own fantasies about the
girls that he could see.
Lyle froze when a large hand covered his own and an arm wrapped around his
chest. Warm, slightly alcohol-tinged breath blew across his cheek and a wet
tongue ran along the bottom of his ear. A low, rumbling voice sounded in his
ear, but Lyle was too lost in his thoughts, variations on 'oh SHIT!', to
understand it.
"I said, d'yae understan' me, Lyle Dylandy?" Lyle closed his eyes as he
realised that it was Seamus Harris, assistant PE teacher and son of PE teacher
Sean Harper and school nurse Theresa Harper, nee Harris. He was as notoriously
lusty as his father had been until he'd finally made an honest woman of Theresa
just a couple of months after Lyle had transferred to the Wellesley Boarding
School. Lyle didn't like the man much, mostly due to his borderline flirtatious
manner around him, coupled with the barely there touches that Lyle would have
reported if Seamus' supervisor hadn't also been his father.
"I wasn't listening," Lyle stuttered, spitting out his black and white striped
tie, resisting the urge to press back into the warm chest behind him. The hand
on his cock squeezed gently, warningly. "Sir."

"I asked if yae wanted some help with tha'." Seamus began to stroke Lyle's
cock, making the teenager bite his lip to prevent a moan from escaping. "It
looks like yae need a hand there."
"My own will do just fine, sir," Lyle gasped out, throwing his head back onto
the assistant's shoulder. "I didn't need any help from you. Now get off me,
sir, or I'll scream."
Seamus' hand stilled and tightened, squeezing Lyle's cock just above his balls.
"And then what would yae say? Yae'd be caned fer sure if yae was caught spyin'
on the 'Liz'beth School girls, ye know that." Seamus nuzzled Lyle's neck before
pulling him away from the wall and shoving him backwards towards a stack of
crash mats. "Lay on there, Dylandy, and keep quiet. I have a better punishment
than tha' old bastard's walkin' stick. The 'mount o' trouble yae get in, yae
prob'ly like gettin' thrashed."
"No. No, I don't. And I'm leaving, sir," Lyle spat out, pushing off the crash
mats and striding towards the door. He stopped short as he saw the four heavy
bags blocking the exit, impossible to move in time before the pervert stopped
him. Turning back round he glared at Seamus angrily. "You're a fucking perv,
Seamus Harris."
"Takes one tae know one, Dylandy." Seamus prowled over to Lyle and wrapped an
arm around his shoulders, attempting to pull him back to the crash mats. When
Lyle didn't move he smirked and licked Lyle's neck. "I see. Yae wan' tae be
taken 'gainst the wall, yer legs wrapped 'round my waist, moanin' like a whore
dressed as an inn'cent school boy." Seamus shoved Lyle towards the wall,
pinning him there before he could escape.
"No. No, I don...aah," Lyle' voice trailed off as Seamus palmed him through his
trousers, the almost rough touch brining Lyle's erection back to full hardness.
Seamus stroked him slowly, whispering softly in his ear, a stream of words that
Lyle's arousal-fogged mind didn't comprehend.
Suddenly Seamus pulled back, an unusual look on his face as his eyes flickered
over Lyle's body. "Tidy up yer un'form, Dylandy. Yer shirt an' tie are a
disgrace, unbuttoned and hangin' loose like tha'"
"Sir?" Lyle didn't understand. First the bastard was fondling him and then he
was telling him to fix his uniform as if the headmaster was going to be
bringing visitors around the school.

"'Ones'ly, Dylandy, yer'd think yer was stupid or somethin'." Seamus began to
fasten the buttons that Lyle had undone while he was lost in his earlier
fantasies. "All I asked of yae was for yae tae fix yer un'form. Can yae no'
e'en do tha' wi'out help now?"
"Of course I can. I just don't see why I should," Lyle spat, knocking Seamus'
hands away from his tie and reknotting it himself. "I didn't think you meant it
either. Seems like a damned weird thing to say when you're feeling someone up."
"Ha' yae ne'er heard o' bein' kinky, Dylandy?" Seamus made a minor adjustment
to Lyle's tie and nodded, an approving look on his face. "That un'form is tight
on yae, Dylandy, clingin' tae yer ev'ry line, showin' off yer muscles. I like
tha'"
"You're even more of a perv than I suspected, Mr Harris, and I'm telling Mr
Harper what you're like as soon as I get out of here."
"Nae, yae won', 'cause then yae'd ha' tae tell 'im yae were spyin' on the
'Liz'beth School girls and yae'd be caned fer sure." Seamus shoved Lyle back
towards the crash mats. "Now jus' lay there and do as yer tol' or I'll tell me
da that yae was spyin' and ask if I can be the one tae gi' yae yer pun'shmen'."
Lyle tried to turn over, feeling vulnerable with his chest against the mats and
his arse in the air, but Seamus shoved him down again with one strong arm. "You
wouldn't fucking dare. I could get you sacked for this."
"Aye, yae could. But yae won'." Seamus unzipped Lyle's fly and slipped his hand
into the opening. "There'd be questions asked, the coppers would wan' tae know
exactly wha' 'appened. Yae'd ha' tae stan' up in court and tell strangers wha'
I done tae yae. Could yae do tha'?"
Lyle shuddered, thinking of that scenario, shaking his head as he realised that
he couldn't do it. "No, sir, I couldn't."
"Good lad." Lyle moaned as Seamus' hand left his trousers, wanting more
contact, more friction on his aching cock. A low moan slipped from his throat
as he looked over his shoulder and saw that Seamus was pulling down his
tracksuit bottoms. "Drop 'em, Dylandy."
"Yes, sir." Lyle swiftly unbuckled his belt and slipped his black trousers and
his blue, cartoon figure festooned boxers, his only clean pair, down, letting
them drop to the floor. He just wanted to get this over with quickly, and
hopefully Seamus wouldn't want anything more from him now he'd finally got to
fuck him.
"No' so dis'bedien' now, are yae?" Seamus ran a hand up Lyle's arse before
smacking it, hard. Lyle yelped and tried to squirm away, and Seamus' hand
pressed his neck to the mats to stop him, another swat landing on Lyle's arse.
"Yae deserve this, Dylandy, fer bein' a perverted little shit what spies on
good little girls gettin' changed in their own changin' room, bu' I'll gi' yae
a choice. D'yae want to be fucked or spanked?"
Lyle didn't need to think, remembering the pain of being beaten from past
punishments. "Fuck me, sir."
"Say it prop'ly, Dylandy. 'I've been a naughty boy, Mr Harris, and I need tae
be fucked tae teach me a less'n.'" Seamus ran his hand over the fading red
marks on Lyle's arse. "You goin' tae say it, or would yae rather be spanked?"
Lyle growled. He wasn't playing this game. He wouldn't say it. Another swat
landed on his arse, directly on where Seamus had hit him the first time, and he
winced. Swallowing his pride he repeated what Seamus had said.
"Goo' boy, Dylandy," Seamus crooned, almost lovingly, and Lyle shuddered. This
guy was a perverted, psychopathic bastard with far too many kinks to be
healthy. How the fuck had he got a teaching position, even if it was just as an
assistant to his father? Hearing the click of a tube cap being closed, Lyle
turned his head and gulped. 'That,' he thought, panicking, 'has to be at least
a foot long. It's never gonna fit there!'
"Relax, Dylandy." Seamus' fingers, coated with something cool and slippery,
pressed against Lyle's entrance, trying to get inside. "Relax and it won' hurt
as much."
"No way. You're not sticking that in there! It'll never fit!" Lyle writhed
under Seamus' hand, trying to break free and get away from him.
"I' will if yae jus' relax and le' me stretch yae ou' firs'," Seamus said
soothingly, his finger now inside Lyle and moving around. "I said tae relax."
Seamus slipped a second finger in, and a third. Lyle's arousal died down as the
uncomfortable burning sensation flooded through him, making him whimper and
fight to get away from the probing fingers. "Yae jus' don' know how tae do as
yer told do yae, Dylandy?"
Lyle gasped as one of the intruding digits brushed against something inside of
him, his arousal rushing back full force as a wave of pleasure crashed through
his body. Once, twice, three times more Seamus touched that spot, before
suddenly Lyle's arse was empty and then Seamus' hand was on the crash mat
beside his head.

"Brace yerself with yer arms, Dylandy, but keep yer damn arse relaxed." Lyle
nodded as he felt Seamus' cock press into him, whimpering as the engorged organ
filled his just-stretched arse even more than Seamus' fingers had. After a few
moments Seamus began to move, hammering into Lyle hard and fast, making the
teenager whimper every time that magic spot was brushed against.
"Sir, please..." Lyle's voice trailed off, as he was unsure of how to ask
Seamus to do what he wanted him to do. " Please!"
"Wha' is i', Dylandy?" Seamus leaned against Lyle's back, his warmth seeping
into Lyle, his weight pressing him down. "Yae wan' me tae do somethin' fer
yae?"
"Please. My... my cock..." Lyle whimpered.
"Yae know wha' yae ha' tae do if yae wan' me tae gi' yae relief, Dylandy."
Seamu's hand left Lyle's neck and trailed down his side and front, stopping to
play almost absent-mindedly with one of Lyle's nipples through his school
shirt. "Ask me, Dylandy, prop'ly, if yae wan' me tae do i'."
Lyle closed his eyes and nodded. He couldn't get any friction on his cock
himself and he was so hard now that it was hurting. "Please, Mr Harris, I want
you to touch my cock. I want you to make me come, like the schoolboy whore that
I am."
"Very goo', Dylandy, very goo'," Seamus murmered, his hand wrapping around
Lyle's cock. It took only a few rough strokes for Lyle to come, his seed
splattering all over Seamus' hand, the crash mats and, most annoyingly, the
front of Lyle's only clean school shirt. A couple of thrusts later Seamus came
as well, semen coating the inside of Lyle's arse and dripping down the inside
of his thigh.
Seamus pulled out of Lyle with a groan, wiping his semen-stained hand on the
back of Lyle's shirt as he did so. He cleaned himself up with a few tissues
that he pulled from a packet in his tracksuit bottoms, and dropped the rest of
the pack next to Lyle as he pulled his trousers back up and began to clear the
bags of footballs away from the equipment room door. As Lyle cleaned himself up
he became aware of a muffled voice from outside of the door, and Seamus'
answer.
"Aye, da, I found Dylandy. He's no' feelin' so well, so I'll keep 'im in here
tae take notes while I do the invent'ry yae said fer me tae do. Aye, there's
somethin' blockin' the door. I had nowhere else tae pu' them. Aye, I'll move
them back tae where they should be afore the end o' the less'n. Aye. See yae
later, da." After a few seconds of listening, Seamus turned back to Lyle. "Yae
heard wha' I said. Get yer pen ou' yae bag and star' takin' notes. Maybe if yae
do a goo' job I won' need tae punish yae 'gain."
Lyle shivered at the thought of being fucked like that again, whether out of
pleasure or fear he couldn't tell, and he scrambled to find the bag he'd
dropped when he first entered the equipment locker. Seamus Harris was a
perverted, kinky fucker, but at least he wasn't all that bad a person.
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