Hunter Sylas

Hunter Sylas is a 20 year old communications major who loves to party. He's outgoing, charismatic, and always the life of the party. Hunter is known for his sense of humor, his love of beer pong, and his ability to make everyone feel welcome. He's not particularly focused on his studies, but he's a natural networker and has a talent for making connections that could serve him well in the future.

Hunter is tall and muscular, with a toned physique from working out regularly. He has short, blonde hair that spikes upwards, bright green eyes, and a rugged jawline. He usually wears preppy clothes, like polo shirts and khaki shorts.

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“Hunter stand up and come with me.” The dean instructed curtly.

“Wait… why, where are we going?” Hunter said, reluctantly standing

Dean Fletcher looked at him with a glowering scowl, “We can disscuss and carry out your administrative punishment in private, or right here. Choose.”

Hunter sighed, “But we didn't do anything, I swear."

The dean did not respond to Hunter's and instead gestured for him to follow as he turned into his office. Jake and Max watched in silence as Hunter walked into the office with the dean, unsure of what was to come next.

Hunter looked back at his friends with pleading eyes, before finally following the dean into his office, feeling the weight of injustice heavy on his shoulders. He knew he had made a mistake, by pranking Noah, but having to face the consequences of something he didn't do was leaving a bad tase in his mouth. Hunter watched as the dean sat behind the large wooden desk. Hunter sat down the other side before the dean raised his voice.

“I did not give you permission to sit, boy!”

Hunter shot straight up out of the chair, terrified. His mind raced wondering what his punishment would be. He'd heard about the dean's leniency, but something was telling him he wasn't getting the easy treatment today. He just hoped it wouldn't be too severe.

The dean's piercing gaze bore into Hunter's soul, making him feel small and insignificant. "Right, I think a good old fashioned spanking is in order first, don't you?" the dean asked, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion. Hunter's eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

A spanking? Really? Did he really want him to answer? His mind raced as he tried to understand. He couldn't believe it. He had never been spanked by a teacher before. Only his stepfather had spanked him, and that man was a monster. The thought of being punished in such a humiliating way by the dean made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn't know how he was going to get through this.

As he stood there, frozen in fear, the dean stood up from his desk and walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the room. Hunter watched as he opened it and pulled out a wooden paddle. The sight of it made Hunter's heart race. The dean was much smaller than he was, but the very idea of spanking was ingrained in him as a humiliating experience.

Hunter nodded, feeling a lump form in his throat.

The dean leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "I won't tolerate this kind of behaviour in my college, Hunter. Do you understand?" Hunter nodded again, feeling the weight of the dean's words crushing down on him. “Now drop your shorts.”

Hunter hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. But he knew he had to obey the dean's orders if he wanted to avoid any further consequences. With trembling hands, he reached down and pulled his shorts down to his ankles, exposing his bright acid-green and hot-pink boxer-briefs to the dean's gaze.

“Ridiculous underwear,” the dean muttered. “I'll never understand your generation and the need to wear such clown-like underwear.”

Hunter felt his face flush with anger and embarrassment as the dean continued to scrutinise his underwear. He wanted to tell the dean to shut the fuck up, that he was an old fashioned nobody, but he didn't dare open his mouth. Hunter tried to focus on his breathing, to steady his nerves, but his heart was racing, and his palms were slick with sweat. He felt exposed and , standing there in his brightly coloured boxer-briefs, waiting for the dean to give him his next command.

“Bend over the desk,” the dean said as he raised his hand.

Hunter obeyed and braced himself for the first stinging blow. He couldn't believe this was happening. His ass was in the air as his arms lay on the dean's desk.

As the first strike hit him, he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He couldn't let the dean see him as weak or . But with each subsequent strike, the pain became too much to bear, and he couldn't help but let out a small wimper. He wondered if he would be able to sit comfortably for the rest of the day.

The dean grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and tugged it up to his chest, exposing more of his naked flesh, “This is in the way,” he said as he continued to deliver the punishment.

Hunter gritted his teeth and tried to endure the pain, hoping that it would soon be over. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the dean stopped, and Hunter breathed a sigh of relief.

“Take it off, it keeps riding down and getting in the way,” he said authoritatively, pointing to Hunter's shirt.

Hunter reluctantly obeyed, stood back up and removed his shirt, feeling embarrassed and exposed.

“Back in position.” the dean said. He couldn't help but feel a sense of shame and humiliation. The dean continued the spanking for a moment longer, and Hunter could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He wondered how much longer this punishment would last and if he could handle it. Finally, the dean stopped again, and Hunter was allowed to stand up and compose himself.

“Lose the underwear.” the dean said in a low voice. Hunter hesitated for a moment, feeling even more and exposed. But he knew he had to obey the dean's command. He slowly removed his underwear and stood before the dean completely naked. The dean looked him up and down, his eyes cold and assessing. Hunter felt a sense of shame and embarrassment wash over him, but he knew he had to endure whatever punishment was coming his way. He braced himself for what was to come, as he bent back over the desk. Dean Fletcher resumed the spanking, and Hunter could feel the pain intensifying with no fabric to soften the blow. He tried to hold back his tears, but they flowed freely down his cheeks.

Finally, the punishment ended, and Hunter was allowed to stand up. Hunter's body was shaking with sobs, and he felt utterly humiliated. Not daring to look at the dean, he quickly tried to pull up his underwear and shorts, feeling the soreness in his rear end, but something was weighing them down. He wiped his tears and focused his eyes. It was the dean's paddle. The older man held Hunter's underwear and shorts in place on the floor.

“I didn't tell you to get dressed, did I?” The dean said, matter-of-factly.

Hunter's eyes widened as he realised he wasn't about to get dressed any time soon. The humiliation and fear Hunter felt only intensified as he stood there, hands clasped over his dick and balls, exposed and .

“Fold your clothes neatly on the desk. You can hand me the underwear, these are not appropriate for this college.”

Hunter reluctantly obeyed the dean's orders, feeling completely humiliated and . He carefully folded his clothes and handed the dean his underwear, feeling a sense of shame wash over him.

The dean stood, holding his underwear and paddle in hand, looking him up and down. He knew he was at the mercy of the older man and that there was nothing he could do to escape the punishment.

Hunter hoped desperately that it would be over soon and that he would never have to endure such humiliation again. He couldn't help but feel angry and violated, but he knew that he had to keep his emotions in check, knowing that the consequences could still get much worse.

“Okay, stand in the corner, hands on you head, “ the dean said, “I'll bring in the next culprit.”

Hunter's mind raced as he tried to process what had just happened. He couldn't believe he was being punished in such a humiliating way. He felt violated and angry. He walked to the corner, facing the wall, he reluctantly placed his hands on his head.

At least no one could see his dick in this position. He thought to himself as he waited for the dean to return with the next student.