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Summary
"Anything?" Novak repeated the last word as a question, still sounding completely blank. "So if I had you bend over this desk and spanked you with a belt, that would be acceptable?" Dean swallowed dryly, mulling the idea over. It seemed reasonable. He deserved it.
"Yeah," he said, breathing deeply through his nose, dropping his hands and standing, opening his eyes with a blurry blink. He reached for his belt, removing it completely and setting it on the table before unbuttoning his jeans and bending over the relatively empty desk and pushing both his boxers and jeans to the middle of his thighs.