0 comments/ 17347 views/ 6 favorites Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 01 By: nightvoice2 Discipline and Dilemmas (1) ----------------------- Wednesday, 18 September ----------------------- Jenny Coombes rolled over and looked at the clock on her bedside table through half-open eyes. It was only half-past-six so she still had another hour before she had to get up to go to work. Her boyfriend, Derek, was still asleep, snoring quietly beside her. She'd woken up hot and agitated having had that dream again. That recurring dream that she'd had as long as she could remember, the one where hands emerged from the night's inky darkness. Slim female hands rubbing her arms and caressing her legs. Pale hands stroking her hair and olive-skinned hands sliding smoothly over her stomach. Hands with brightly painted nails gently caressing her breasts. Hands with elaborate henna tattoos and bright silver rings gliding over her naked flesh as she squirmed contentedly. But whenever she tried to sit up and find the source of the disembodied hands, stronger hands would grasp her shoulders and pull her back. Firm male hands grasping her ankles and wrists pulling them towards the distant corners of the large bed so that she was held fast. She felt them tangling in hair, tugging at her dark brown locks forcing her head back against the pillow. Thick fingers covered her eyes, rendering her unable to see the source of the restless hands. Rendering her powerless to stop them exploring her warm thighs, fondling her swollen boobs, pinching her engorged nipples. "Please!" she'd gasp, although no one was listening and her moans of pleasure were always cut short by a large male hand clamped tightly over her mouth, forcing her breath to whistle through her nose. There was never an explanation or reason, just the hands endlessly stroking her, determined to explore every inch of her nakedness. She'd twist and shudder with hot, sudden pleasure as the warm, probing fingers slid between her legs and brushed against her sex as if drawn to the heat like moths to a flame. The rough male hands sliding up over her legs and firmly grabbing her knees, prising them wide open, exposing her hot thighs to the relentlessly searching fingers. Her sobs of pleasure muffled as the soft feminine fingers explored the soft, pink folds of her moist pussy. Examining the slick, pink flesh at the junction of her hot thighs as she twisted and thrashed against the mattress. She'd awoken gasping for air, disoriented but very aroused. She'd had these fantasies of restraint and submission for many years. They'd seemed to intensify since she'd been dating Derek. Although he had many good qualities, being creative and generous in bed wasn't one of them. In fact, he was quite lazy, selfish, and conventional, so her craving for something more dangerous, arousing and exciting was confined to her dreams. Once or twice, she'd tried to playfully suggest to Derek that they could experiment with tying each other up but even after a couple of glasses of wine he'd called it 'weird' and 'perverted', so she'd given up, confining her fantasies to the private cinema of her mind. She rolled over and slid her arms around her sleeping boyfriend. He grumbled and snorted as she ran her hands over his bare torso, slowly awakening as she caressed him, her moist lips brushing against his neck. His sleepy groans turned to moans as she ran her hands lower, over his shorts, feeling his cock stir as she stroked him through the increasingly taut material. He groaned sleepily, raising his hips as she sat up tugged his shorts down over his legs then wrapped a hand around his semi-erect prick. Once he was fully hard, he twisted around and, still half-asleep, rolled on top of her. Jenny would have liked a bit of foreplay but, as always, once Derek was aroused he just wanted to get on with it. She helped him tug her knickers off, and then spread her legs as he positioned himself between them. Luckily, she was still hot and wet from her dream, and it only hurt a little as he eased his modestly long, but thick cock between her thighs. As he began to ease himself in and out, Jenny lay back and stretched her hands above her head. She closed her eyes and was back in her dream world, pretending she was being held down, those strong hands covering her eyes and tugging at her wrists and ankles until she was spread-eagled. Those sensuous, lithe female fingers exploring her naked, helpless, hot body. Teasing her hot, wet slit then eagerly slipping between her juicy lips, probing her deeper and deeper. Soft feminine fingertips toying with her aching clit as she writhed and strained. She was just edging towards a gorgeous orgasm when Derek came suddenly and loudly, his body straining and quivering as she felt his hot cum spill deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around him as he collapsed heavily onto her only partially sated body, his chest heaving, and his ragged breath hot against her neck. "That was lovely, dear," she sighed, trying to hide her disappointment. --- Mike Barrett, editor-in-chief of the Eastbrook Echo, opened the door of his large corner office. He leant against the door-frame and ran his fingers through his short, greying hair as he looked around the rest of the office thoughtfully. It was noisy and crowded, full of journalists tapping away at keyboards, and talking loudly into their phones. A mixture of male and female, young and old. He needed someone for a very special assignment. Which journalist looked most as if they could play the part of a temporary secretary? He needed someone who didn't mind bending the rules a little, who knew how to forge relationships quickly and get information whilst giving nothing away themselves. His eyes kept returning to Jenny Coombes. Ambitious, intelligent, attractive, twenty-two year-old Jenny. She'd only worked for the Echo for a year after graduating, but he could already tell she was destined for bigger things. "Jenny?" he called out. "Yes?" she said, looking up from her PC screen. "Can I have a word please?" he said, motioning for her to follow him into his office. "Have you heard of St Catherine's?" he asked as she settled into the chair opposite him. "The private school for girls? A couple of miles from the village? Yes, I was there about eighteen months ago to cover the opening of their new cafeteria." "Okay, well I don't know if you know, but for years there have been rumours about that place." "What kind of rumours?" "Well, there's always been plenty of gossip about them. Teachers spanking schoolgirls and playing sexual games with them mostly. But recently I heard there was a group of girls blackmailing the teachers there. Something to do with helping them cheat at their exams." "Scandal and blackmail, eh? Sounds juicy," Jenny said, smiling. He sighed and leant back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "The thing is, there have been rumours ever since I took over here fifteen years ago but we've never been able to prove anything." "You've never been able to find anybody willing to talk?" "No one that's willing to talk on the record. The headmaster's a cunning old fox and very protective of the school. I've tried lots of times but somehow he always finds a way to stop people talking to us. I've been thinking recently that the only way to do this properly is to have someone on the inside." "On the inside? You mean like a spy?" "Kind of. Here, read this," he said, handing her a handwritten note. A few months ago, he'd asked the girls in Classified to come to him if they had anything for St Catherine's. This morning one of them had to come to him with the scrap of paper. "Wanted: secretary for maternity cover. We are looking for an enthusiastic and well-organised individual to join our team. This vacancy is to support the Headmaster with secretarial tasks. You should be able to present a positive and friendly approach to our students, their parents and staff. You should be computer literate (including Word and Excel) and flexible. Apply to the headmaster at St Catherine's School for Girls in the first instance," Jenny read. "That was phoned in this morning. They want it placed in Friday's edition." "I see... and you want me to apply for this?" she said, joining the dots. "Exactly," he confirmed. "There's definitely something going on up there and I bet it's quite sordid and juicy. With your talent for sniffing out a story it shouldn't take you more than a couple of weeks." "I don't know, I mean what if they check my background? What about my CV?" "Don't worry about that. Make something up to cover the time after you left university and use my 'phone number as a reference. I'll confirm whatever story you want. Oh, and use an alias." "You know I've never really worked undercover before, I should really think about this." "Well think it over. But you'll kick yourself if I give this to one of your colleagues and they uncover a nice juicy scandal that gets picked up by the nationals. I know you're keen to move on Jenny, but we're a small local paper, we don't get many chances like this." Jenny nodded as she got up and headed towards the door. "And one more thing: if you do decide to apply and get an interview wear something conservative. The headmaster's quite old-fashioned." ---------------------- Thursday, 26 September ---------------------- Her interview was at eleven o'clock but Mike had given her the whole morning off. She was a little late as she'd had to drop her boyfriend Derek off at the airport to get the early flight to Stuttgart. He was likely to be away for a couple of months installing and supporting a software upgrade at the German office of the multinational accountancy firm he contracted for. She and Derek had been together for about eighteen months now and, by and large, they were very happy together. He was honest, steady, and very good with money. All of the characteristics that made him ideal husband material. In fact, they'd talked about getting married next spring. Of course, nobody was perfect, and Derek's flaw was that he was a little boring and conventional, especially in the bedroom. For example, he insisted that the idea of oral sex disgusted him, although he seemed happy enough for her to give him a blowjob on his last birthday. It's not that he was doing anything wrong; it's just that his idea of 'kinky' was doing it with the lights on. But, as her mother always reminded her, you couldn't have everything, and Derek was kind, loving, and considerate, some of the qualities she most valued. Her mind returned to the school as she motored past a signpost saying it was another mile. Of course, Mike had been right; she really would kick herself if someone else got the story. Jenny felt a little flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach as she imagined the headlines as she turned left at the school gates. "Sordid spanking and sex scandal at posh girls' school". "Naughty schoolgirls blackmail teachers to cheat exam system". She wouldn't be surprised if there was something inappropriate going on up here. All those girls, well young women really, running around in those little short, pleated skirts and white knee socks pandering to the whims of their middle-aged teachers; desperately trying to please them so they could get the results they needed. It was like some adolescent fantasy and perhaps it wouldn't be too shocking if some of the teachers took advantage of their position. She dreamed of leaving the small provincial newspaper of her hometown and working for one of the national newspapers. And this was exactly the kind of story that could get her noticed by the Sunday tabloids. Sex, scandal and intrigue at a posh girls' school: it was classic tabloid fodder. She kept going over her cover story in her mind as she drove: she was Joanne Courtney, she had been temping since she left university, and she'd love the opportunity to work at such at a prestigious school. After she'd parked, she took off her worn, old trainers and slipped on a pair of sensible but uncomfortable black court shoes to complete her conservative office girl look. Knee-length grey skirt, black tights and a pale pink blouse. Finally, she took off her sparkly engagement ring and put it in the glove box. She had a feeling that it might be better if her alter-ego Joanne was single and unattached. The big, thick wooden doors were wide open and inside there was a spacious but dim entrance hall with a black and white tiled floor that reminded Jenny of a huge chessboard. Signs directed her up an oak staircase, the banister's varnished surface worn dull and smooth over the years by thousands of girls' hands. Her sensible shoes echoed crisply on the hardwood stairs. Halfway up she paused to examine an old black-and-white picture of the school taken from the air. She guessed it had been taken in the nineteen-fifties. It showed the main house in the centre with the newer red brick extension on the left forming a broken 'L' shape. The gymnasium was missing and Jenny guessed it must have been built later. At the top was the gently winding river, shining like mercury where it caught the sun. --- The headmaster was away for a couple of weeks at a conference in Brighton and Wicklow reasoned that as his deputy he was entitled to the use of his office. The headmaster hadn't actually said he could, but then again he hadn't said he couldn't either. It was much bigger than his, with a much better view. He stood by the window, hands behind his back watching the trees swaying in the gentle breeze and the cows grazing the pasture on the far side of the river. Yes, this would do very nicely when the head retired. He wondered if he should start asking people to address him as 'acting' rather than 'deputy' headmaster. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Yes?" he said, as Mrs Higson's pregnant stomach appeared around the door followed by her head. "The next candidate is here, deputy headmaster." "Thanks, give me a minute then send her in," he said, sitting back down at the desk. He hoped this girl was better than the ones he'd seen so far. Wicklow picked up the CV from the desk and looked over it again. Joanne Courtney, good academic record, left university twelve months ago after graduating with a 2:1 in English, had been temping ever since. "Hello, I'm Mr Wicklow, the acting headmaster," he said, leaning forward and extending his hand over the large desk towards the young brunette that appeared in the doorway. "Joanne Courtney, pleased to meet you," Jenny said, taking his hand and mentally congratulating herself on remembering to use her alias. "Likewise. The head is away at the moment so I'm doing the interviews today. Now is that Miss or Mrs, if you don't mind me asking?" Jenny/Joanne wanted to ask him why on earth he thought that was relevant but instead she smiled politely and replied "Miss". Well, thought Wicklow, looking her up and down, she was certainly easier on the eye than the other candidates so far. Petite and slim with long, shoulder-length, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She already had a head start as far as he was concerned. He continued to be impressed as they talked about her education and her work experience. She came across as bright, capable and articulate, listening carefully and asking the right kind of questions when appropriate. If anything, she seemed over-qualified. After only a few minutes he was satisfied he'd found Mrs Higson's replacement. When they'd finished talking, he stood and offered his hand once more. "Well thank you for coming in Miss Courtney, you can expect to hear from us by the end of tomorrow." "Thanks again," replied Jenny, taking his hand and smiling politely as she stood. Wicklow leaned forward a little as she bent over to retrieve her handbag from the floor, her tight grey skirt stretching tightly over her nicely rounded derrière. And a lovely looking bottom it was, firm and rounded, just the way he liked them. Oh yes, he thought, he'd certainly look forward to seeing a lot more of Miss Courtney. -------------------- Monday, 30 September -------------------- Her first day at the school passed quickly. In the morning, the heavily pregnant Mrs Higson took her through what would be expected of her. It was fairly standard work: answering the office phone, opening the mail, managing the headmaster's calendar and maintaining the student database. Nothing too taxing for a graduate journalist. In the afternoon Wicklow gave her a brief tour of the school and introduced her to some of the teachers. They started by walking around the extensive grounds, stopping briefly at the gym where they met Miss Lambert, a bright, energetic, young woman with artfully tousled blonde hair refereeing an indoor hockey game. Then they walked down to the river before heading back towards the main house. "The main building dates back to the nineteenth century," Wicklow explained. Jenny wasn't quite sure what to make of Wicklow, or the 'acting headmaster' as he insisted on being called. Physically, he was of average build with thinning hair and a greying, wiry moustache. He always seemed to be dressed smartly; today he was wearing a navy blazer and a matching tie with some kind of crest in the centre. Although he was outwardly polite and professional, something about him made her feel uneasy. Her journalistic instincts told her that if there were some kind of scandal, he'd probably be right in the thick of it. "It has three floors," Wicklow continued. "The ground floor of the house is mainly classrooms but also has the library and cafeteria, and some accommodation for junior teachers. The first floor is all accommodation; a lot of the students who board have rooms up there. And the top floor, as you know, has the office, the headmaster's room, and accommodation for senior teachers." Jenny was only half-listening as they went back through the main doors, where they nearly collided with a teacher coming the other way. "Ah, David!" Wicklow exclaimed. "This is Miss Courtney, our new secretary. Miss Courtney this is Mr Lean, one of our maths teachers." "Pleased to meet you," he said, smiling pleasantly as he shook her hand. "Thanks, nice to meet you too," Jenny said, looking him up and down. He was tall and good-looking in a clean-cut, boyish sort of way, his dark hair neatly trimmed, the crease in his trousers as sharp as a knife, his shoes well polished. A little further on, they met a female teacher, exiting one of the classrooms behind her students. "Ah Annabel," Wicklow said. "Let me introduce Miss Courtney. This is Miss Hunter, our biology teacher." "Ah, acting headmaster, what a pleasant surprise," Annabel said, with barely disguised sarcasm and a mirthless smile. Annabel Hunter stood slightly taller than Jenny in her expensive-looking heels. She was an attractive woman, handsome rather than pretty, clad in a neat charcoal-grey pants suit, her intelligent green eyes sparkling behind thin-framed glasses. Her grip was soft yet firm as they shook hands. They moved through the corridors meeting more teachers, most of whose names Jenny soon forgot. Mr Sanders, the history teacher, whose eye patch and beard reminded her of a pirate. Miss Rogers, the religious instruction teacher, a mousy lady in her sixties, her steely grey hair tied back in a neat bun. After a while, she stopped even trying to remember their names. -------------------- Thursday, 3 October -------------------- Jenny made it into the office early on Thursday. She wanted to have a good look around before Wicklow got in. It was a large office with a hardwood floor and plain walls. Jenny's desk was set in one corner with the door leading to the headmaster's office immediately to her right; along the opposite wall was a long olive-green, padded bench where visitors waited to see the head. To her left was an open doorway leading to a kitchen area. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 01 The kitchen was small but equipped with everything they needed. A sink, kettle and refrigerator. Also a large printer/photocopier and a paper shredder. She was still looking around when Wicklow arrived. He was quick to take up her offer of a cup of tea. Over the last few days, Jenny had quickly settled into a routine. Opening the mail when she got in, making Wicklow a cup of tea around nine o'clock and checking if he needed anything doing. The deputy headmaster had made it clear that he didn't want to see her using her mobile in the office so when she heard a muted bleep from her handbag she went to the Ladies. There were actually two texts: one from Derek asking her how the job was going and another from Mike the editor, asking her if she'd made any progress yet. She was sitting in the cubicle wondering how to tell Mike that she really hadn't had time to snoop around yet when she heard two girls enter the bathroom. "You haven't done your assignment yet?" she heard one of them say, over the sound of water running into the washbasin. "No, I forgot. I thought it was due this Friday, I thought it was next Friday." "But you didn't hand the last one in on time either, Miss Hunter will be furious." "Yeah, but what's she going to do? I mean, she gave me a bit of a talking to last time but she's not like Wicklow, it's not like she's going to get physical." "I wouldn't be too sure. You know Lizzy? She told me that Hunter gave her a right tanning last week. She told me she couldn't sit down the next day." "You're having me on, right? Everybody knows that Hunter's the one teacher who doesn't spank." "Well I'm just saying what I heard. Apparently she's changed." Jenny sat in the cubicle quietly, listening to the girls chat. Any scandal at the school was likely to be connected to the disciplinary system; there were plenty of rumours about teachers taking 'punishment' too far. Perhaps she could find a way of spying on Miss Hunter. She puzzled over this as she walked back to the office. As she rounded a corner, she found Mr Lean standing over the photocopier and stabbing at the buttons angrily. "I have added paper you bloody machine!" he snarled, slapping his hand against the top. "Having problems?" Jenny said. "Oh, it's you, Miss Courtney! Yes, sorry about the language, it's this blasted machine. It says it's out of paper but I've checked and the tray's already full of paper," he said gesturing towards the copier whilst looking at his watch. "Let me have a look." Jenny looked at the display then crouched down and pulled out one of the paper drawers. "Ah, it looks like it's expecting paper in tray three but you've filled up tray one. Are you late for something?" "Yes, I'm late for my class." "Well I can sort it out if you like." "Really? That would be great. I need twenty copies of those question papers." "Fine, I'll bring them along to your class when I've finished; you're in 13A, right?" "Thanks Joanne, I'll have to buy you a drink sometime," he said, flashing her a winning smile as he walked briskly away down the corridor. As she listened to the repetitive hum and whirr of the photocopier, Jenny wondered how she might find out how Miss Hunter disciplined her students. One of the things that most interested her when Mrs Higson was showing her around the office was the drawer where they kept the spare keys for the teachers' rooms. If she could find one that fitted the lock on Miss Hunter's door she could get in but how could she find out what went on? When she got back to her desk after dropping the photocopies into Mr Lean's classroom, Wicklow was waiting for her. "Ah, Miss Courtney," he said, as he pulled on his jacket. "I'm off to a planning meeting with a local counsellor but I've dictated a couple of letters." "Oh, yes of course." "Yes, they're on here," he continued, tapping the Dictaphone he'd placed on her desk. "Would you mind typing them up for me?" "Not at all Mr Wicklow," she said, somehow relieved that he wouldn't be in the office. In truth, she found him a bit creepy and overbearing. "Super, well I'll see you tomorrow morning then," he said as he swept out. "A Dictaphone," Jenny thought to herself as she sat down at her desk. "Now there's an idea." --- Typically, it was the last key on the key ring that fitted Miss Hunter's door. Once inside, she locked it behind her. It was a large, airy room, the afternoon sunlight flooding in from the window and reflecting off magnolia walls brightened with a series of large, colourful prints. The plan had seemed straightforward when she was at her desk but now she was here she wasn't exactly sure where to plant the Dictaphone. On the sofa behind a cushion? On one of the shelves? But what if something happened in the bedroom? Should she plant in there instead? And if she did hide it, say, behind a pillow, wouldn't the sound be muffled? It needed to be hidden but at the same time, the sound quality needed to be good. She pondered this dilemma as she paced around the room indecisively. Perhaps she hadn't thought this through properly. She was still pacing when she heard footsteps in the hallway outside. She stood still, holding her breath, willing them to pass by then felt her heart thump when they stopped outside. She physically jumped when she heard the key rattling in the lock. She scurried into the bedroom and threw herself under the bed. --- "In!" Annabel Hunter said as she opened the door, standing aside and ushering the girl into the room. Annabel walked over to the large sash window, her back to the girl, giving herself a few seconds to compose herself. Recently, she'd been wondering if she hadn't been being too lenient with the girls. Wicklow's appointment to deputy head and the headmaster's comments after her interview had angered her at first. Later on, she'd begun to wonder if they weren't both right, perhaps discipline was at the heart of the school's ethos, perhaps she was going too easy on her students. This must have been the fifth or sixth time she'd had to have a word with Kate, and the thought that the girl wasn't taking her warnings seriously made her feel angry and frustrated. She'd be willing to bet that the girl wouldn't treat Wicklow's warnings so casually. "You know Kate, it's not just that you choose to ignore my deadlines, it's that you do it time and time again despite all the warnings I've given you." "Yes Miss, sorry Miss." "And then you have the cheek to come in to class and spin some tale about losing your work." She paused thoughtfully, and a silence fell over the room broken only by the loud ticking of the clock on the wall behind her. "I'm really sorry Miss, it won't happen again." "But that's what you said the last time girl!" Annabel snapped. "Please Miss, I promise." "No," Annabel said decisively. "I think we've reached the end of the line. It's clear that what you need is a short, sharp shock. Then perhaps next time you'll have something to remember when you're working to a deadline." "I'm not sure what you mean Miss," Kate said. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean girl," Annabel said, grabbing the girl's arm. "Now let's have you over the arm of the sofa." "No, please Miss, don't!" Kate whined, as Miss Hunter pulled her towards the sofa. "Please Miss, what are you doing?" she continued as the teacher manhandled her, positioning her against the arm of the sofa then pushing her in the middle of the back so that she was forced to bend forward, her brunette curls spilling over her face, her palms supporting her weight, pressing against the green fabric surface. "Now then girl, I hate to do this, but you've been asking for this for a long time," Annabel growled as she held the girl in place with one hand and grasped the hem of her pleated skirt with the other. "No, please Miss, don't!" Kate exclaimed, as she felt her skirt being tugged over her derrière. She stood in that position for a few long seconds feeling Miss Hunter's hand pressing firmly between her shoulder blades. Miss Hunter wasn't really going to go through with this, was she? Surely she was just bluffing, wasn't she? Annabel watched the girl's white panties clinging tightly to her trim buttocks as the girl squirmed and wriggled. She brought her hand back and gave her a couple of short, sharp smacks, one on each buttock. "Ow! No!" Kate complained as the teacher's hand stung her flesh. She instinctively reached behind her to try and protect herself. "You're only making it worse for yourself girl," Annabel said angrily as she grabbed the girl's hand and twisted it behind her back. She pushed her further over the arm of the sofa before delivering an even firmer slap producing a satisfying smacking sound that made Kate squeal loudly. It had been years since Annabel had spanked any of the girls but she was beginning to remember how satisfying it could be. --- In the bedroom, Jenny had been lying under the bed quietly, listening to what was going on in the other room. It was suddenly clear that there was some truth in all those rumours about corporal punishment at the school and she was desperate to see exactly what was going on. She slowly crawled out from under the bed being careful to remain completely silent. She eased forward, her hands and knees sinking into the thick carpet, until she could peer around the half-open door. She watched excitedly as the teacher forced the girl over the back of the large green sofa. This was exactly what she'd been hoping for. She had an excellent view from where she lay, behind but slightly to one side so there was little chance of her being seen. The girl's skirt was rucked up revealing a nicely rounded derrière. Her skin already reddening a little, contrasting with the white cotton of her panties as Miss Hunter swatted her pert buttocks. "Oh! Ow! Please Miss!" the girl yelped, squirming uncomfortably as Miss Hunter brought her hand down smartly on her wriggling buttocks. Jenny eased her hand into her pocket and drew out her mobile phone. Making sure it was in silent mode, she held it up in front of her face and started to take pictures of the action. She watched through the screen as Annabel paused and slid her hand over the girl's tender buttocks. --- Kate held her breath as she felt Miss Hunter's finger slide between her legs and caress the soft skin of her thighs. Something about her position, helplessly bent over the arm of the sofa, her bottom in the air made her feel aroused and she felt her young body responding to the gentle, yet firm touch of her teacher. "Is that it Miss?" she asked hopefully, trying to stand up. "Quiet! Head down girl," Miss Hunter said as she pushed Kate's head further down until her hair brushed the sofa's surface. "What are you doing Miss?" Kate gasped as she felt Miss Hunter's fingers sliding over her sensitive skin and gently stroking her through the thin cotton of her panties. "Well, well, feels like you're enjoying this more than you're letting on," the teacher said as her experienced fingers examined the girl's swollen pussy. "No, Miss, I don't know what you mean," Kate protested. "Don't pretend you don't like it Kate, I can already feel how turned on you are," Miss Hunter said, a note of triumph and barely suppressed excitement in her voice. "Please Miss, I don't think you should be doing that," Kate mewed, feeling a surge of hot pleasure as she felt Miss Hunter's fingers stroking her more firmly, finding that deliciously sensitive spot between her legs. "No, please Miss, stop!" the girl gasped, squirming uncomfortably as her teacher hooked her thumbs through the waistband of her cotton panties and pulled them down to her knees in one fluid movement, the air cool around her moist lips. Miss Hunter drew her hand back and made her squeal loudly with a firm, well-placed slap on her naked, reddened buttocks. "What was that? Did you say something?" Annabel asked angrily, the girl's young body jerking as she landed another well-placed slap. "No Miss, sorry Miss," Kate sobbed. "I thought not," Annabel said, sliding her hand over the girl's naked flesh and gently squeezing the smooth, firm buttocks. She felt the girl tremble as she slid her hand between the girl's cheeks and stroked the girl's inviting pussy. Annabel smiled as she felt the girl responding to her touch, her hips gyrating as she made helpless sobbing noises. "Don't pretend you're not enjoying this, girl," Annabel said, as she spread the moist folds of her pussy and ran a finger along the sensitive contours of the girl's pink inner lips. Jenny couldn't believe her luck; she'd hit the jackpot on her first attempt! She took picture after picture. Kate bent double over the arm of the sofa, her bottom in the air, her knickers a thin tangle of white cotton stretched between her knees. Miss Hunter's hand blurred, frozen halfway towards slapping the girl's plump buttocks. The girl's eyes squeezed shut as the teacher stroked her wet pussy. The girl, her mouth open with surprise as she felt a long, slim finger slide into the welcoming wetness of her sex. Miss Hunter, her lips set in a knowing smile as she slid her fingers deeper and used her free hand to massage the girl's hungry clit. The girl, her face flushed and set with an intense expression as the teacher caressed her intimately. And finally, Kate's body straining, her back arched, her mouth open as she came with a long, low howl of ecstasy. "Now then Kate," Miss Hunter said, her lips next to ear as the girl's breathing gradually returned to normal. "You'll have something to remember the next time I set you a deadline, won't you?" "Yes Miss," the girl panted. "Now let's continue this in the bedroom, shall we? Perhaps you can find a way of persuading me to give you a few more days to complete that assignment." As the girl stood up rather unsteadily and allowed Miss Hunter to lead her by the hand towards her bedroom, Jenny had already slipped quietly out of the window, skipping nimbly between the rose bushes in the border outside, till she found her way back to the footpath. ------------------ Tuesday, 8 October ------------------ Jenny felt a keen sense of achievement the next day at work. She smiled to herself as she stood at the photocopier knowing that with the photo's she'd downloaded from the her mobile onto her laptop, she already had the basis for a sensational article. As it turned out she didn't have long to wait until she had even more material for her story. It was about half-past-three when the girl arrived in the office. She was petite with long black hair tied in a neat ponytail and flashed Jenny a nervous smile at she knocked on the door of the headmaster's office. Jenny watched her frown and chew her thumbnail as she waited for a response. "Come!" Wicklow shouted from behind the door, and the girl opened the door obediently. "Miss Rogers sent me to see you Sir, because I was late to class again," she heard the girl explain, as she hovered anxiously in the doorway. Jenny heard the sound of Wicklow's footsteps approaching the door. "Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off, Joanne?" he said, his face appearing around the door. "But it's only half-past-three," she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Yes, but there's nothing urgent to do so why not go early, hmm?" he replied. "Oh, well thank you, acting headmaster," Jenny said politely. She was aware of him standing and watching her, tapping his foot, as she switched off the PC and retrieved her handbag from beneath the desk. "Have a good evening Jenny," he said, smiling as he watched her get her coat from the stand. "Okay, see you tomorrow," she replied, watching as he put his arm around the girl's shoulders and guided her into his office, closing the door behind them. Jenny went through the pantomime of putting her jacket on and walking to the outer door, her heels echoing on the hardwood floor. She opened then closed the door firmly, making sure that the sound could be heard in Wicklow's office, before taking off her shoes and tiptoeing back towards her desk, nearly losing her balance as her stockinged feet slipped a little on the varnished floor. There was definitely something going on between Wicklow and the young student, she could tell by the tense excitement in his voice and the wicked gleam in his eyes. Quietly and carefully, she knelt beside the office door and peered through the large, old-fashioned keyhole, ready to scurry away and hide behind her desk. She watched as Wicklow sat behind his large oak desk and the girl perched anxiously on a chair in front of him. "Well now Holly, what is it this time, hmm?" "It's Miss Rogers Sir, she says I was late but it was only a couple of minutes," the girl whined. "So you were late then?" "Yes, but it was only a minute or so Sir." "And this is the third time I've seen you here this month?" "Yes Sir," she mumbled. "Whatever are we going to do with you, girl?" Wicklow said sitting back in his chair and running his hands through his neat, grey hair. "I'm sorry Sir," the girl mumbled, staring at her sensible, black shoes. "You know what I said would happen if I saw you in here again? Hmm? I said I'd have to cane you didn't I?" he said reaching under his desk and pulling out a long, slender wooden cane. "No Sir! Please, I won't do it again," the girl pleaded, shifting nervously in her chair as he got to his feet. "You know my reputation girl," he said, as he walked over to the window. Outside it had started to drizzle; a steady, relentless drizzle that seemed designed to drench anything caught beneath it. A few girls scurried past beneath the window, skipping over puddles, books held over their heads. He turned back towards the girl, watching her reaction as he made some long, elaborate practice strokes with the cane as if he were practicing his golf swing. Holly whimpered audibly as it cut through the air with a loud, swishing sound. "You know I don't mess about when I spank someone, don't you? You know I like to give wicked girls like you something to remember," he continued, sitting on the edge of his desk in front of her and flexing the thin cane in his hands. Holly nodded glumly. "Well then, let's have a look at you. On your feet, girl." Outside, Jenny pushed her cheek against the door, watching as the girl reluctantly got to her feet and stood anxiously awaiting her fate, her hands clasped in front of her pleated uniform skirt. "You're a pretty little thing," he said, as he looked her up and down. "Please Sir," the girl complained as he ran the tip of the cane up and down her legs. "Yes, lovely legs," he continued as he used the cane to lift her skirt a few inches revealing her pale, smooth legs above her white knee socks. "Don't Sir!" she mumbled, tugging her skirt down. "Hands behind your back girl," he snapped sternly, tapping her wrists. He smiled as she obeyed, amusing himself by easing the hem of her pleated skirt a little higher. "Please, don't!" Holly gasped as she squirmed uncomfortably under his hot gaze. "Yes, it would be a shame to spoil those lovely legs with ugly red welts. Very painful, I dare say you won't be able to sit down for a few days." "Please Sir don't spank me," Holly said, blushing bright red as he lifted her skirt even higher, exposing the little triangle of her white cotton knickers. "Very nice," he said, drinking in the sight of her smooth, pale thighs. "Now unbutton your blouse." "Please Sir, I don't want to," she complained, but felt compelled to obey him. "Oh yes, that's first class," he grunted, easing the lapels of her blouse apart with the tip of his cane, exposing a white and pink bra clinging to her cute boobs. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 01 "Please Sir, don't spank me." "Suppose I do you a favour and let you off a spanking, what are you going to do for me, hmm?" "I don't know what you mean Sir," the girl said innocently. "Then let me give you a clue, girl," Wicklow replied, grasping her slender wrist in one of his big hands and drawing it towards his trousers. He noticed that her nails were painted olive green, the school's colours. "Please Sir, I'm not that kind of girl," she protested, trying to pull her hand away as he pressed her hand against the tight bulge in his dark grey trousers. "Well if you want to avoid the thrashing of your life you'd better learn to be the kind of girl," he said sternly. "Now unzip me and be quick about it, before I change my mind." --- Outside the door, Jenny 's mouth fell open as she watched Holly's nimble fingers tug at the zip. Surely that horny old sod wasn't going to make her touch him down there? Not right there in the head's office? It was just a shame she couldn't take pictures through the keyhole. "Come on girl, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with excitement as she hesitated. He took her wrist and guided her hand, till it slipped between his flies. "Good girl," Wicklow said encouragingly as she slid her hands inside and withdrew his already hard cock. Not the biggest prick that Jenny had ever seen but still a good length and quite thick. She watched with a strange mixture of outrage and excitement as the girl slowly began to stroke him up and down. "That's it, that's it," Wicklow groaned as the girl's slender fingers slid along his throbbing shaft. He ran his hand over her shiny black hair and down over her shoulders. "Don't stop, just like that," he ordered as he slipped a hand inside her gaping blouse and crudely squeezed one of her small breasts through her white bra. "Oh God, that's good," he grunted, as she grasped him a little tighter, started moving a little faster. He moaned happily as she ran her thumb over the sensitive head, massaging him with the pre-cum that oozed from the tip. --- Jenny should have been shocked and outraged at the sight of this eighteen-year-old girl being forced to perform sexual favours for a middle-aged pervert like Wicklow but somehow she couldn't help feeling turned on. There was something about his authoritarian, uncompromising manner that made it such an oddly erotic scene. Wicklow was immaculately dressed in his dark grey suit and old school tie but with his hard, naked cock protruding obscenely from his trousers. The girl had been crouching awkwardly but now she pulled up her chair and sat down, without breaking stroke. Jenny was still crouching awkwardly, her knees aching a little now, her sensible grey office skirt had ridden up over her knees. She couldn't resist pressing a hand between her legs, feeling the heat from her thighs through her skirt, as she watched the girl smoothly stroke him up and down, up and down. --- Wicklow groaned happily as the girl caressed his rock hard cock with her soft hands. Talking a girl into giving him a handjob like this never failed to arouse him deeply. It was partly the danger that excited him, the knowledge that someone might knock on his office door at any moment, or perhaps even barge in without knocking. "God, that's good!" he groaned as she ran her slim fingers along the full length of his muscular rod. "I thought you said you hadn't done this before. You wouldn't lie to me, would you girl?" Holly shook her head as he ran a hand along her chin, tilting her head upwards so that she was forced to look up at him, her blue eyes unreadable beneath her dark fringe. He ran his thumb over her pink, warm, moist lips. She had quite full lips, that seemed set in a permanent pout and he felt a sudden urge to feel them around him. He slid his hand behind her head, grasping her dark ponytail then drawing her towards his cock. "Please Sir, I don't want to," she protested. "Perhaps you'd rather be spanked, hmm? It's not too late to give you a good thrashing," he chided. He smiled as he felt her reluctant lips plant a line of kisses along the underside of his prick. "Good girl, yes, that's so very good," he gasped as he watched her little pink tongue lapping at the precum spilling from the swollen purple tip of his engorged cock. "Oh yes, that's the ticket," he continued, feeling a hot surge of pure pleasure as he felt the warm, sweet embrace of her lips. He watched her cheeks hollow as she drew his achingly hard flesh into the warm, wetness of her mouth. "How disgusting! Forcing himself on that poor girl," Jenny muttered, although she couldn't help sharing a little of Wicklow's arousal as she watched the girl's head bobbing, her pink lips sliding up and down Wicklow's turgid shaft as he moaned contentedly. Perhaps she ought to intervene. She could think of an excuse to knock on the door and save that poor girl but then she wouldn't get her story. In the long run, surely it would be better to get the full story, wouldn't it? Expose Wicklow to public disgrace after it was published? As she watched, Jenny couldn't resist sliding a hand beneath her skirt as the deliciously warm, moist feeling spread through her thighs. Her arousal quickly spread as she stroked herself through her tights. Something about the way the girl expertly licked and sucked at his taut flesh made Jenny suspect that the girl wasn't quite as innocent as she'd acted. "That's it, that's it," Wicklow was moaning as the girl began to move faster, her hand gripping his shaft as her hot lips slid up and down the tip of his straining prick. "Don't stop, don't stop!" he insisted, his breath was coming in short, hot gasps now as the girl pushed him closer and closer until with a final roar of pure pleasure he came, his hot spunk jetting into the girl's open mouth. Jenny watched as the girl lapped the last few drops of cum from his softening shaft before Wicklow eased his softening penis back into his trousers and handed the girl a tissue. "Well girl, I hope you've learnt a valuable lesson, now what do you say?" "Thank you for not spanking me Sir," she replied obediently, dabbing at her lips daintily. --- Jenny grabbed her shoes and handbag and slipped out of the office as quickly and quietly as she could. She ran down the corridor, eager to leave the building before being spotted by Wicklow. She was trying to run and slip her shoes on at the same time, resulting in a kind of hurried, undignified hop which achieved neither. Rounding a corner too quickly she ran right into Mr Lean, the papers he was carrying exploding out of his hands and onto the wooden floor. "Gosh, I'm so sorry! I'm so clumsy!" she apologised, glancing behind her nervously before crouching next to him and helping pick up the papers. "No problem, probably my fault," he said politely as she handed him a sheaf of assignments. They smiled at each other in the awkward silence that followed as they got to their feet. "Listen, I've been meaning to thank you properly for helping me out with my photocopying the other day." "Oh no really, don't mention it," she replied. "Do you know The Fox and Hounds? Some of us teachers go there on Fridays. Perhaps I could meet you there next Friday and buy you a drink." Jenny thought for a moment. With her boyfriend still away in Stuttgart she didn't have any plans, and he was quite good looking in a boyish kind of way. Of course, she reminded herself, her interest was purely professional: it would be a great chance to get some more material for her story in an environment where he might relax and let his guard down. "I'd love to, thanks," she said. "Great, see you Friday then," he said, a puzzled look on his face as she hurriedly skipped away down the corridor. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 02 Discipline and Dilemmas (2) -------------------- Wednesday, 9 October -------------------- The headmaster couldn't sleep. He rolled over in bed and looked at the clock again. Still only ten past five in the morning. He'd been away from the school for way too long for his liking. He'd originally planned to be back on Monday but his mother had been taken ill just as the conference ended on Friday so he'd ended up spending what turned out to be a very long weekend with her. He always worried about the school when he was away and although he felt Wicklow was fairly trustworthy it was the first time he'd left him in charge. Whenever he closed his eyes, he kept seeing visions of unruly schoolgirls running riot, letting off fire extinguishers in the corridors, and smoking in the toilets, the school falling into disrepair, the teachers losing control and threatening to go on strike. Eventually he gave up trying to get back to sleep and decided to get up and go in early instead. A couple of miles away on the other side of the village, Jenny couldn't sleep either. She rolled over and pressed the button that illuminated her bedside clock. She was relieved to find it was still only five thirty, so she had a couple of hours before she had to get up. She'd spent the previous evening typing up her notes, working late into the night and half-watching TV before slipping into bed at around midnight. Outside, the wind changed direction, and the cold October rain rattled against the window. She shivered and tugged the duvet up to her nose. With her boyfriend still away in Germany, the bed seemed huge. Jenny stretched out happily beneath the duvet, enjoying the warmth and sense of space. She closed her eyes quickly sinking into that lovely state halfway between sleep and consciousness, her mind going over the events and images of the last few days. Mr Lean had seemed very pleased when she'd agreed to go to the pub with him. Was it just a friendly drink with a group of teachers on Friday or did Mr Lean see it as more of a date? Would that be a bad thing? What would Derek think about her going out with one of the teachers? Her mind also kept returning to the girl, Holly. Jenny tried to imagine how it would feel if it was her standing there in Wicklow's study, the threat of a caning hanging over her. Being forced to stand still, hands on head, whilst Wicklow lifted her skirt with the tip of his cane. Pleading with him to stop as he exposed her bare thighs. She felt a warm flicker of arousal deep in her belly as she imagined watching him become hard, his thin lips set in a cruel grin as he used the tip of the cane to stroke her through her panties. "How disgusting," she muttered as her hand drifted between her legs. Was it just Wicklow and Hunter or were there other teachers molesting their students? And perhaps most worryingly, what would happen to her if they ever found out she was really an undercover journalist? Imagine how angry Wicklow would be if he found out! She found herself fantasizing about what might happen. Perhaps Wicklow and the headmaster would find out and want to take matters into their own hands. She pictured herself sitting in front of the headmaster's desk, nervously chewing a fingernail, waiting anxiously as he finished reading the report in front of him. She couldn't recall what the headmaster looked like, so she conjured up the image of a faceless, authoritarian figure; tall and dark and in his fifties, neither good-looking nor ugly, and smartly dressed in a smart, dark grey suit. "Do you know what this is?" he'd snap. Jenny would shake her head dumbly. Instead of handing it to her, the headmaster would spin the paper around with his fingertips and beckon her to come closer, curling his finger. He'd keep his fingers on the paper so that she'd be forced to stand and lean forward over the desk, supporting her weight on her palms as she craned her head to read the small type. She'd see it was her CV. Not the fake one, the real CV with her real name and listing her current occupation as a journalist for the Echo. "What's this?" she'd say innocently. "Perhaps you need to look more closely," he'd growl as he'd grab her wrists and pull them towards him, forcing her weight onto her elbows. "What are you doing? Please, you're hurting me!" she'd whine as she'd try but fail to pull her hands loose. "Don't play the innocent with me girl, we know all about your lies. Your real name is Jenny Coombes, isn't it?" he'd insist angrily, his face burning red. "Please let me go, this is all a mistake," she'd reply, still struggling to free her wrists. He wouldn't let her go though; he'd pull her wrists even further towards him so that his stern, craggy face was inches from hers. She'd realise what a vulnerable position she was in now, stretched over the desk, her smart office skirt riding up over her the back of her legs. "Now then girl, tell us the truth before things get a lot worse for you," he'd say threateningly. "Okay, it's true," she'd whimper. "I'm sorry. I'll get my things and leave, okay?" "You're a journalist aren't you? From the worst kind of gutter press. Looking to dig up some dirt about the school?" "Fine, you got me. You win. Listen, I'll just collect my things and leave, alright?" "Well I'm afraid it's not as simple as that," he'd continue, smiling wickedly. "Young ladies who break the rules must be punished, mustn't they Mr Wicklow?" "That's right, headmaster, and she has been especially deceitful," said in a sinister voice that was suddenly right behind Jenny. "Well," the headmaster would say. "Let's not keep the poor girl waiting then." "No, please, wait!" Jenny would mew as she felt Wicklow eagerly grasp the hem of her charcoal grey skirt. He'd ease it slowly up over her legs enjoying her discomfort. She wouldn't normally wear stockings but that's how she pictured herself in her mind's eye, the sheer black stockings and suspenders framing her pale, naked thighs, her black heels making her legs look especially long and slim. Her scandalously small briefs clinging to her wriggling buttocks. "Very nice," Wicklow would murmur as he ran a warm hand over her smooth, naked skin and the silky material of her panties. He'd slide a finger beneath a suspender, testing the elastic tension before letting it snap back against her skin, making her jump. Of course, she'd struggle, but with the head's vice-like grip on her wrists she'd be unable to prevent Wicklow removing her already damp panties. Hearing him grunt with hot anticipation as he slid the skimpy, black material over her smooth thighs, exposing the delightful curves of her flawless buttocks. The silence in the room broken only by her sobs as she struggled to free herself and the faint hiss of static as he eased her knickers over her stockinged legs. She'd whimper as she felt a strong hand on her ankles, patiently lifting each foot as he carefully slipped them over her heels then tossed them onto the desk beside her. "What a gorgeously spankable arse," he'd growl as he stood back up and roughly pinched the tender flesh of her derriere. "Ow! Stop!" she'd protest as his rough hand connected smartly with her smooth, plump buttocks, stinging her naked skin. Jenny unbuttoned her pyjamas and ran her hands over her semi-naked body as she mentally pictured the scene. What a desperate, vulnerable position to be in! Stretched out over the head's desk, her panties an untidy scrap of black on his otherwise neat desk next to her CV. Unable to stop Wicklow's brutish hands exploring the smooth, milky skin of her bare bottom. Of course, she'd struggle and beg for them to release her but what could she do against two grown men? And if Wicklow decided to slide his hand between her legs and start caressing her naked thighs, there was very little she could do to stop him. To stop her body responding to his touch. She gently started to stroke herself through her pyjama bottoms imagining it was his hand. "Please don't, no!" she'd say as she felt Wicklow's strong hands spreading her buttocks, exposing her shamefully moist, pink folds. Despite her predicament, she'd find herself becoming aroused as Wicklow's finger teased and stimulated her inner thighs, as she squirmed helplessly. "She's quite wet you know," he'd inform the head as he toyed with the tight little hole at the centre of her heat and she'd feel her throat and cheeks burn red with embarrassment as he explored the evidence of her arousal. "Please stop," she'd protest, but he wouldn't of course. A man like him would be enjoying her discomfort. The more she protested, the more it would turn him on. He'd dip a finger into her molten pussy and paint her juices along her hot slit. Stroke her back and forth till it was slick with her juices and her hips gyrated uncontrollably. Jenny lifted her hips as she eased her pyjama bottoms over her hips then kicked them off her legs. Free of her pyjamas, she was able to spread her legs wide apart and she groaned as she slid her hand between them, running a fingertip lightly along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, teasing herself until her body shivered with delicious anticipation. In her mind's eye, she pictured herself still bent over the desk, still wriggling and protesting as Wicklow's insistent fingers delved deeper into the inflamed, juicy folds between her widely spread legs. "What's the matter, young lady?" the headmaster would say mockingly, tugging her wrists further till her hamstrings burned and her chin brushed the desk's polished surface. "I thought you were looking for some scandalous behaviour from our teachers. Perhaps we should really give you something to write about, eh? What do you say Mr Wicklow? She has been exceptionally dishonest." "Yes, positively wicked. I think you'll agree that exceptional dishonesty requires an exceptional punishment." "Just so, Mr Wicklow. Why don't you show her what we've got in mind?" Twisting around awkwardly, her neck straining, she'd just be able to see Wicklow unzip his sensible Marks and Spencers trousers and slip his already hard cock from his pants. "No, please no!" she'd mew helplessly, still putting up the pretence of a struggle as her body betrayed her, the juices spilling from her thighs at the sight of his erection. She'd tremble with desire as she watched him wrap a meaty fist around the shaft, slowly stroking it to full hardness before she felt the throbbing, purple head of his cock against her hot pussy. She'd be unable to suppress a loud, contented groan as he eased his sturdy prick all too easily inside her. She'd close her eyes, riding the warm waves of carnal pleasure as she felt Wicklow slowly inch his thick cock into her molten centre. "Mmm, she's lovely and tight, headmaster," he'd groan as he eased his cock back out. She pictured her tight, juicy lips clinging to his retreating shaft, as if unwilling to let him go. She was very aroused now, her young body writhing and wriggling, spread-eagled in the large bed, one hand feverishly stroking her hot pussy, the other squeezing and twisting her tight nipples. She half-opened her eyes and reached out in the semi-darkness, her hand fumbling around in one of the bedside drawers till she found her trusty dildo. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue over the smooth surface. When she closed her eyes, she was back in the study. Impaled on Wicklow's eager cock and with his strong hands on her shoulders pressing her against the hard desktop, there'd no longer be a need to hold her wrists. She'd only be able to watch helplessly as the headmaster stood, his crotch level with her face and slowly unzipped his pin-striped suit trousers. She imagined Wicklow's cruel hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back and making her watch as the head eased his shorts over his hips until his cock sprung free, bobbing expectantly a few inches from her face. He'd grasp her chin as she tried to turn away, forcing her to watch as he wrapped his other hand around the taut, velvety skin of his shaft, casually stroking himself till he was as thick and hard as one of the table legs as Wicklow continued to fuck her enthusiastically. She'd be panting loudly now, the hot breath being forced from her lungs as Wicklow pounded her relentlessly from behind. In this position, bent double over the desk, he'd be able to penetrate her fully and he'd take full advantage, thrusting the swollen head of his cock deep inside her, thoroughly enjoying the hot embrace of her pussy as his stomach slapped against her buttocks. In her vulnerable position, she'd be unable to stop Wicklow sliding a hand beneath her and tugging roughly at her blouse, the buttons skittering across the desk's shiny surface. He'd yank her bra down, her boobs spilling out and she'd feel the cold, polished desk against her naked flesh. "No please! Please!" she'd squeal as Wicklow's hands pawed her bare breasts, his pincer-like fingers cruelly pinching one of her pert nipples as his dick plunged into her wetness. "She's very noisy, isn't she headmaster?" Wicklow would gasp, his balls slapping against her arse as he fucked her energetically. "Yes, perhaps we need to find a way of keeping her quiet," he'd reply, and Jenny imagined feeling the swollen head of his erection pressing against her lips. "No!" she'd protest weakly, trying to twist her head away. "Looks like she needs a little encouragement, headmaster," Wicklow would say, slapping her firmly on the buttocks. Her hair was scraped back in a thick ponytail and she imagined Wicklow wrapping a thick coil of glossy hair around his fist, and cruelly pulling her head back. "Ow! No!" she'd squeal as she felt Wicklow's firm hand connecting with her naked derriere again, even harder this time. As she opened her mouth, the headmaster would seize his chance, eagerly slipping his throbbing shaft between her reluctant lips. Back in bed, she slid the dildo into her mouth and ran her tongue around the smooth head. She closed her eyes, imagining the contented groans of the headmaster as she slowly slid it in and out, her lips forming a tight pink seal around the shaft. "Mmm, mmm," she moaned, sucking on the dildo, she slid one of her slim fingers in and out of her tight, wet pussy. Her hot, young body writhed beneath the duvet as she imagined the two immaculately dressed men fucking her lustily, using her helpless body as a plaything to satisfy their sadistic desires. Her pussy was craving stimulation now, and the wet dildo left a wet trail of her saliva as she slid it over her naked skin. Jenny shivered in anticipation as she lightly rubbed it against her hungry slit, teasing herself till she simply couldn't stand it any longer. She gasped with the sudden rush of carnal pleasure as she spread her knees even wider then eased the thick head between her puffy, inflamed lips. She teased herself by just sliding the very tip in and out, her pussy lips clinging to the fat head. But she couldn't keep it up for very long, her body needed still more and she groaned loudly as she slid it deep into the hot depths of her vagina, her hips arching up off the bed. "She feels so good, so fucking good," she imagined Wicklow grunting as his thighs slapped against hers, his cruel hands gripping her hips as he thrust his swollen prick deep inside her rippling depths. She slid the dildo in and out of her, mirroring his frenzied thrusting as she rubbed her hot little clit with her free hand. "Yes, what a good little cocksucker you are young lady, top of the class," the headmaster would agree as he eased his fat prick between her wanton, red lips. He'd moan as she swirled her tongue around the swollen tip tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. "You're loving this, aren't you? You little tart," Wicklow would hiss, leaning over her, his lips suddenly next to her ear, his voice a thick rasp. "Mmm, mmm, mmm," she'd grunt, forced to breathe through her nose as Wicklow continued to fuck her from behind and the headmaster forced his throbbing hardness deeper into her mouth. Her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps as she pictured them using her helpless body for their pleasure. The thought of their eager cocks pushing into her mouth and pussy made her feel hotter and hotter as her fingers flicked the hot little bud of her inflamed clit. "Well now, despite all her protesting I think she's about to cum, the slut," Wicklow would pant, a note of triumph in his face as her body trembled, her pussy squeezed his cock and her moans became increasingly strained. "Oh, oh, oh!" she panted, her voice getting gradually louder and higher-pitched as she imagined them fucking her harder and harder, faster and faster till their bodies couldn't take it anymore. In her mind's eye, she watched as the headmaster eased his glistening prick from her lips and wrapped his fist around the thick shaft, jerking it up and down feverishly till he came, the hot, pearly cum splashing on her face and lips. The thought of Wicklow coming at the same time pushed her over the edge. She imagined him, his face red with exertion, his mouth wide open, head thrown back, roaring with pleasure as with a final flurry of desperate thrusting they both came, her young body thrashing, her pussy clenching around the dildo, a divine fire rushing through her. --- Later that morning, the headmaster was standing in the little kitchen having just finished making himself a cup of tea when he heard the office door open. "Ah, you must be the new temp.," he said, emerging from the little kitchen and extending his hand towards Jenny. "Yes, I'm Joanne, Joanne Courtney," she said, taking his hand. "Mr Wicklow says he's been very happy with you. How have you been finding it here?" he said. She was a slim, pretty young woman dressed in a conservative black pants suit over a powder blue blouse. Where had he seen her before? She looked familiar but he couldn't quite place her face. "Fine, thank you, I've been made to feel very welcome." "Have we met before? I seem to remember your face from somewhere." "No, I don't think so. You live in Eastbrook, don't you? It's a small village, so you've probably seen me in the supermarket or the pub or something. We were expecting you back on Monday, weren't we?" she said, quickly changing the subject. "Ah yes. My mother was taken ill. She lives in Hastings, down on the south coast near where the conference was held so I stayed over with her for a few days." "Oh dear, I hope she's okay." "Oh yes, nothing serious, she's fine now. Well I won't keep you, I just wanted to introduce myself. Do let me know if there's anything you need." "I will, thanks headmaster," she said, as she switched her PC on. --- Back in his office, the headmaster stared out of the window pensively. Outside a cool breeze played with the dry brown leaves that littered the lawn beneath his window. It was starting to look untidy out there. He made a mental note to have to have a word with the head gardener the next time he saw him. He bent down and took his mobile phone out of his briefcase, his thumb stroking the touch-sensitive screen until he found the name he was looking for. "Hello Duncan?" "Ah headmaster! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Duncan was an old friend of his, someone he'd met at the local golf club years ago. He was in his sixties, an ex-metropolitan police officer who'd retired to the countryside and spent most of his time trying in vain to improve his handicap. He still did a little private investigation on the side to pad out his police pension though, and the headmaster used him before, always finding him both thorough and, more importantly, discrete. "Listen, I was hoping you could help me out." Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 02 "Yes?" "You know Elizabeth's on maternity leave? Well I've just met her replacement. I'm sure I've seen her before somewhere and I just need you to check her out." "So just a basic background check?" "Yes, I just feel there's something not quite right about her. I'm sure it's nothing, but I'd like to make sure that she is who she says she is." "Have you got her details there?" The headmaster quickly checked through the drawers of his desk and found a stack of CVs. "Ah yes, here it is. It's got a photo of her attached as well. I'll drop a photocopy off at your place on my way home if you like." "Perfect." "But if you want to get started right away her name's Joanne Courtney." "Joanne Courtney, right. Okay well I'll have a look this afternoon then get started properly tomorrow. I assume it's okay to charge my usual rate?" The headmaster smiled. His "usual rate" was a couple of bottles of good quality whisky. "Of course. Thanks for helping me out, Duncan." "Alright, I should have something for you by Friday. I'll drop by your place." "Great, see you then." When he ended the call, the headmaster already felt better. -------------------- Thursday, 10 October -------------------- The annoying feeling that he knew the new secretary from somewhere had kept irritating him like a small stone trapped in his shoe and he rushed to the front door when he heard the doorbell on Thursday evening. "I'll get it!" he shouted to his wife as he walked briskly through the hall. He led Duncan to his study at the back of the house. Soon they were settled in two large, leather armchairs nursing glasses of a rather good single malt he'd picked up on holiday in Scotland. The headmaster watched patiently as Duncan slid a sheaf of papers from his briefcase, and put on his little half-moon reading glasses. Duncan was a very methodical man, and he knew from experience that it was best to wait patiently and let the ex-detective explain in his own time. "So firstly, the young lady in the picture isn't called Joanne Courtney, her name is Jenny Coombes. She's twenty-two years old and lives with her boyfriend Derek Bateson in a two bedroom flat on that new development, the one that used to be a sorting office." Duncan paused and took a sip of the whisky. "She was born and grew up around here. Her parents have moved around a bit, but they currently live here in Eastbrook. She has a good, solid academic record and she went on to study English at university. Now then headmaster, you might want another sip of this excellent whisky before I get to the next bit." "Go on," the headmaster said, swilling the amber liquid around his glass, and watching it cling to the sides. "After university, she returned here and got a job as a journalist on the Eastbrook Echo..." "Yes!" the headmaster said, tapping his forehead with his finger. "That's it! She was one of the journalists that turned up to the opening of the new cafe. I remember her now." "I've got a contact at the Echo. He tells me that she's known for being bright and ambitious. If anything, she has a reputation for a bit too ambitious, maybe a bit ruthless when she's chasing a story. My man reckons she'll make an excellent tabloid journo one day. She's not been into the office for a couple of weeks and he'd assumed she was on holiday." "So what are we saying? Eager, young journalist turns up at the school, lying about her name and her identity." "I'm sure I don't need to spell it out to you, headmaster." "Yes, it sounds like she's heard some of the gossip and innuendo about the school and decided to see if there's any truth in it." "Exactly my thoughts. What do you think she's looking for? Are you worried about the behaviour of any of your staff?" "Hmm, well maybe one or two, you know how it is," the headmaster said, taking another sip and feeling the thick amber liquid warm sliding down his throat and warming his stomach. He didn't want to name any names in front of Duncan but Wicklow immediately sprung to mind. And Miss Hunter, the closet lesbian. There were plenty of rumours about them. What was that old saying? No smoke without fire? "So what will you do? Limit the damage. Get rid of her first thing on Monday?" "Maybe, although there's nothing to stop her running back to her newspaper and writing about whatever tawdry gossip she's managed to pick up. What we really need is something on her." "Something on her? Some dirt, you mean?" "Yes, we need something to bargain with." "Do you want me to keep digging around?" "Yes please Duncan, see if you can turn up anything that she might want to keep to herself. Oh, and one more thing: do you know much about electronic surveillance?" ------------------ Friday, 11 October ------------------ "Have a seat," David said, gesturing towards the large olive green sofa. "Can I get you a drink, Joanne? I've got some white wine in the fridge. Pinot grigio I think." "Yes, lovely, I'll have one if you are," Jenny said agreeably, reminding herself once more that David knew her as 'Joanne'. Actually, she wasn't crazy about pinot grigio but she was keen for David to carry on drinking. She'd spent the last couple of hours at the pub chatting to David and some of the other teachers. She'd encouraged him to drink, and as the other teachers had left and he'd been happy to talk about his experiences at the school, although he was still quite tight-lipped when she'd asked about the disciplinary system. Still, she figured that the combination of more wine and a bit of flirting might loosen him up a little. She sat on the small three-seater sofa and demurely straightened her denim skirt over her knees. It had taken her ages to decide what to wear to the pub. In the end, she'd decided to keep it simple: a knee-length denim skirt and a fitting white v-neck top that showed off her shapely body without being too revealing, suggesting she might be available without being too obvious about it. She'd also decided on some quite sexy underwear. Well, if she was going to flirt with him, she reasoned, she might as well do it properly. David poured them both large glasses of the white wine and put the bottle back in his mini-fridge. He couldn't believe his luck! Jenny looked gorgeous tonight and he'd noticed the other male teachers eying him jealously as she flirted with him. And now here she was in his rooms, drinking his wine and sitting on his sofa. "Here you go," he said, sitting beside her. "Cheers!" "Cheers," Jenny said, taking a small sip then putting the glass down. It was important to keep a clear head so she could remember the conversation when she wrote up her notes later. "So, you were saying at the pub that you've found it quite easy to settle in here." "Yes, everybody's been very helpful. It's a great school, I think I've been quite lucky." "And the students? Are they always helpful and well-behaved?" "Yes, well, most of the time they're fine. Of course, there was some trouble early on. And there are always a few trouble-makers in any class but, by and large, they're very well-behaved." "So, it must have been difficult at first, dealing with the trouble-makers. How did you manage?" "Well you just have to be firm with them, make sure they understand that you're in charge. Mr Wicklow helped me with that." "Ah yes, Wicklow, he seems to be very keen on discipline," she said remembering the events in the headmaster's office. Keen on discipline and oral sex, she thought. "Oh yes, he's very old school, a firm believer in corporal punishment." "And how about you? Have you ever spanked any of the girls?" "Only as a last resort. Usually a good talking-to and the threat of detention is enough." "But you have spanked someone?" Jenny said persistently, her journalist's instinct sensing a story. "You know, I've only ever spanked one girl since I've been here. A girl called Brianna; she's left now." "Oh yes, what happened? Was she very naughty?" David paused and took another sip of wine, as he recalled the hot, uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment when Brianna and her friends pointed out his erection in class. He remembered how they pointed and giggled. "She was cheeky in class," he said, trying to avoid going into details. "I see, and you felt the need to spank her just because of that?" Jenny said, shifting a little closer to him. "Well not exactly. In fact, I remember giving her a choice: detention or spanking, and she chose to be spanked. So you see it's not as unpopular with the girls as you might think." (Of course, in retrospect, he guessed that this was all part of the plan to blackmail him but he wasn't about to share that with his guest.) "So come on then, what happened? How did you do it?" "Spank her, you mean? Well, it was my first time so I had no idea! She was the one who suggested that I sit right here on the couch and she'd lie across my lap." "So you spanked her right here on this sofa?" Jenny said, inching closer till their legs were pressed together and she could feel the warmth of his thigh through the tight denim. David swallowed anxiously: "Yes, I gave her six of the best right here." "Skirt up or down? What about her knickers?" Jenny asked, her dark eyes sparkling. She realised she was asking too many questions, pushing too hard, but she couldn't help herself. "Sorry, why are you so interested?" he said. "I'm just curious that's all. I went to a state school so I've never experienced anything like that. So you know, I guess I'm quite curious about how it works," she said. He watched as she ran a finger along his jeans leg, tracing the seam. "Skirt up, knickers down," he said, his mouth suddenly dry. He took another swig of wine and watched as her finger casually traced circles on his denim thigh. "Really? So how did it make you feel? Was she good looking? Did you enjoy it?" "Well I'm a professional teacher, I mean, I have to be dispassionate, objective." "Yes, but you're only human, aren't you? I mean, you must have felt something. Having a nubile little schoolgirl wriggling around on your lap, her skirt tugged up around her waist, panties around her knees. I mean, I'd be surprised if you didn't feel something. You're not gay are you?" "No! No, I mean you're right I'm only flesh and blood but, you know, I was also her teacher so you have to put those feelings to one side." "Come on, just between you and me you must have been at least a little turned on," she said, encouragingly. They both watched as her hand slid up over the taut denim covering his firm thighs. "Well yes, a little I guess," he replied, feeling his cock stiffen. He shifted position trying to ease the pressure as it formed a bulge in the rough material. "I bet she made you hard, didn't she David? As hard as you are now." "Yes," he gasped. "So you've got this lovely big hard-on and there's a half-naked girl lying across your lap. Come on you must have been sorely tempted," Jenny insisted, exploring the thrillingly large bulge in his jeans with her fingertips. She knew she was being a bit naughty (what would her boyfriend Derek think?) but she sensed that David was very close to a confession and a bit of teasing was hardly the same as having full-on sex with someone, was it? "Yes, well as you say I'm only human, maybe my hand did stray a little," he confessed. He shifted position, leaning back and wrapping a long arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to lean closer. Jenny felt his other hand squeezing her knee just beneath the hem of her skirt. She leaned closer and planted a kiss on his neck leaving a soft smudge of scarlet lipstick. She noticed his aftershave smelt like musk and cedarwood. "Did you touch her, David? I bet she wanted you to, didn't she? " Jenny whispered, her lips next to his ear. "She was very aroused, I could tell, you know, when I touched her down there. I could tell she wanted me to," David confessed as he watched Jenny's slender fingers slowly sliding the zipper down, and easing the growing pressure in his pants. "What a naughty boy you are. I bet she loved it though, didn't she?" Jenny said as she slid her fingers inside and stroked his prick through his grey shorts, feeling the fierce heat through the thin fabric. "Yes," he confessed, as she leaned in closer. He could smell her perfume as her sharp little teeth tugged at his earlobe. Jenny felt a keen sense of excitement as she listened to him confessing to her. Yet another teacher having sex with his students! Yet more material for her story. It really was going to be an explosive piece! She was feeling excited in other ways too as David's warm hand eased her skirt up a little and caressed her bare thighs, causing little alarm bells to ring in her head. Still, she could hardly stop now she was so close to a full confession, it wouldn't be professional. Besides a quick handjob was hardly being unfaithful, was it? It wasn't like she was having a full-on affair or anything. He lifted his hips obligingly as she unfastened his jeans and tugged at his shorts impatiently. She let out a little surprised gasp as she eased the waistband over his hips until his stiff cock sprang free. He had a lovely prick; both longer and thicker than Derek's and she felt a warm, moist feeling spreading between her thighs as she ran her fingertips along the taut, veiny skin. "And did you fuck her, David?" Jenny said, wrapping her fingers around the thick, sturdy shaft and slowly stroking him up and down. "Did you fuck her with this lovely big cock?" "Yes," he moaned, inflamed by her dirty talk and loving the feeling of her soft fingers caressing his hard dick. Jenny was moaning too, as she felt his eager hands exploring the tops of her legs. She allowed him to ease her thighs apart a little and was rewarded with the feeling of his fingers exploring her hot thighs beneath her skirt, which was suddenly up around her hips. He quickly found the already damp material of her tiny white thong and she shivered in anticipation as he slowly stroked her pussy beneath the thin, lacy material. She almost purred with pleasure, spreading her legs wide as he patiently stroked a fingertip up and down her slit making her squirm happily. Jenny was also loving the feeling of his swollen cock throbbing beneath her fingers. She watched as a thick, salty drop of pre-cum spilled from the tip and rolled down the shaft. She spread it around the swollen head, his groans of pleasure music to her ears. Between her wanton thighs, his fingers continued to trace little patterns on the gusset of her thong, and there was no disguising how aroused she was as his fingers encountered the spreading wet patch. God, she felt so horny now! She'd only intended to give him a quick handjob as a little reward for being so honest with her but surely that would be a waste of such a gorgeously hard cock. And, she reasoned, this might be her last chance of having sex with someone else before she got married. Her last chance to experience passionate sex and an orgasm before committing herself to Derek. Surely, she could just count this as her hen night? Everyone deserved a last fling before they committed to a lifetime of marriage, didn't they? She quickly changed position, slipping her denim skirt off then swinging a leg across him, straddling his firm thighs. They were both panting with hungry desire now, tugging at each other's clothes. She helped him tug her clingy white top over her head then pressed her lips against his, her tongue darting into his half-open mouth as she tugged impatiently at the buttons of his pale blue shirt. She ground her hot young body against his, unable to keep still as he kissed her neck, her shoulders, the slope of her boobs. She reached behind her back, unfastening the clasp of her lacy brassiere as his lips caressed her, his hands sliding one of the straps over her smooth shoulders. She threw the lacy scrap of material aside and ran her fingers through his short, brown hair as his hot, hungry lips caressed her naked flesh. His moist lips covered her naked boobs with hot kisses as she moaned, her body grinding against his. They both moaned as she spread her thighs, moving her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy against his throbbing cock. She could feel the heat and hardness through her wet thong. It was hardly cheating if there wasn't penetration, right? David was loving the feel of her hot young body sliding against his. He cupped her firm rounded cheeks of her buttocks in his hands as his hips lifted from the sofa and he pressed his thighs against hers, his body craving a firmer touch, cock and pussy separated only by the flimsy lace of her panties now. She had lovely boobs, pert and firm with burgundy nipples already standing to attention. They bobbed up and down in front of his face as she rode him, and he grasped one, squeezing it into a tight cone before flicking the tip of his tongue over her erect nipple. Jenny wished she could stay like this all evening, listening to David's urgent, passionate moans as she rubbed her hot thighs against his and his wicked mouth sucked and nipped at her sensitive nipples. The delicious friction was a great starter but now her body was demanding the main course. It wasn't really sex, she told herself, she was just doing her job, wasn't she? She was just doing whatever a hungry, young female journalist had to do to get the story. Using what assets she had to compete in a male-dominated industry. She reached between her legs and hooked a finger underneath her tiny thong, easing it to one side, exposing the swollen lips of her pussy. David let out a strangled cry as she teased them both, grasping his hot prick between slim fingers and rubbing the swollen tip against her wet folds. She stroked the throbbing bulbous head up and down her slick labia until she couldn't take it anymore. Their voices formed a chorus of pleasure as she slowly lowered herself on his hardness, impaling herself on him, her plump fleshy lips stretching to accommodate his impressive girth. "Oh God David, it's so good, so good," she moaned as she slowly eased herself up and down his length. His cock was longer and, more importantly, thicker than her boyfriend's and she loved the feel of him pushing deep inside her. Jenny began to bounce up and down, her hands resting on the back of the sofa, pressing her chest into David's face, encouraging him to taste her boobs. "God, you're so big!" she gasped happily as she slid a hand between her thighs and rubbed her aching clitoris. Her whole body was alive with hot pleasure as she rode him, sometimes jerking up and down with staccato strokes, just the tip of his cock inside her. Sometimes fucking him with long, fluid strokes listening to him, grunt and groan beneath her, as she braced herself against him, her hands pressed against the hard slabs of his pectorals. She began to move faster and faster now, her hot young body demanding more and more. She threw her head back and squealed happily as she felt his prick plunge deep inside her and his wet tongue lapped at one of her nipples whilst he squeezed the other tightly between his cruel fingers. "So good, so good," she panted happily, her eyes closed, her breath rasping in her throat. She hadn't had an orgasm with Derek in months and she was determined to make the most of this opportunity. "Yes, yes," she shouted, her fingers strumming her throbbing clit, her body straining, her muscles burning as she bounced faster and faster. She was so close now. "Please, please, make me cum," she begged as he grabbed her hips and started moving with her, thrusting his hot prick deep into her, their sweat-sheened bodies slapping together as their passionate bodies strained against each other. It felt like riding a bucking bronco as she bounced up and down joyfully, her hair in her eyes, her thighs burning, her boobs jiggling. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 02 "Don't stop, please don't stop!" she cried desperately as their bodies slapped together, her juicy cunt jerking up and down his thick shaft, her fingers rubbing her aching clit, his prick plunging deep into her wetness until the sweet sensations overwhelmed her. Her body collapsing on top of him, her chest heaving with great sobbing gasps as her body convulsed as wave after wave of pure ecstasy ran through her. --- When she'd returned to earth, she realised he still hadn't cum. Her body was limp, still bathed in a lovely post-orgasmic glow as he smoothly eased her spent body off his rock hard shaft then manoeuvred her so that she was on her hands and knees along the length of the sofa, her head on the armrest. She remained still, slowly recovering as she watched him pull off his remaining clothes then knelt behind her. His dick was still thrillingly hard and coated with her juices; she twisted around and watched as he wrapped his fist around it and pressed the tip against the warm, yielding flesh between her legs. A single, animal-like growl of pleasure escaped her scarlet lips as he plunged deep into her wanton pussy, filling her completely in one smooth thrust. As he gently but firmly fucked her from behind, Jenny closed her eyes and stretched her hands out in front of her. In her mind's eye she imagined herself back in her fantasy, firm vice-like hands gripping her wrists and pulling her arms out in front of her so that she was helpless and unable to stop him ravishing her, unable to stop that delicious cock from plunging deep inside her. Before long, they were both screaming in pleasure. ----------------- Monday 14 October ----------------- Jenny knew something was going on when the man walked into the office. He was young and slim, with fair sandy hair and thin, frameless glasses that made him look Scandinavian. He was dressed smartly in a severe black suit and Jenny wondered if he was a school inspector. Or maybe just some kind of salesman. "Good morning, " he said in a crisp voice without any trace of accent. "I'm Peter Eriksson. I'm here to see the headmaster." Jenny checked the diary but found nothing. "Why don't you take a seat? I'll ask if he can see you." He remained standing as Jenny knocked on the headmaster's door. "Yes?" she heard the headmaster shout. "There's a Mr Eriksson here to see you," she said, popping her head round the door. "Ah yes, very good. Send him in please." "Oh, okay," she replied, frowning. She'd been told that the headmaster wouldn't see people without an appointment. She showed Eriksson in then returned to her desk, but found it difficult to concentrate, her ears straining to hear what was going on next door. She didn't have to wait long to find out. About half-an-hour later the headmaster called her into his office. "Now then Jenny," the headmaster said as she took a seat. "This is Mr Eriksson, he's one of the partners from the law firm that represents the school and he helps us out on legal matters." Jenny nodded towards him, trying to look calm as she felt her buttocks tighten and her palms become damp. He'd called her Jenny! They'd found out! How had they done that? Or had she misheard? "So what do you think is the most valuable thing in the school?" the headmaster said, taking his seat. "Most valuable thing?" Jenny said. "I'm not sure what you mean headmaster." "Well let me help you out. Is it the buildings? The land? The staff? What do you think is the most important thing here, hmm?" "I'm really not sure," Jenny said, wondering where this was going. The headmaster smiled indulgently, as if he was explaining something to a very small child. "Reputation," he said. "Our reputation is the most important thing here. Yes, the buildings are impressive and the staff are very able but the thing that draws parents to the school is our reputation. Without our reputation, we're nothing. So I think it's fair to say that my main job is to protect that reputation at all costs." Jenny nodded, guessing where this was going but not wanting to give anything away. "Which is why it's worrying when someone tries to slander our reputation. To report gossip and innuendo as fact. You can see how that would concern me, can't you Miss Courtney." "Yes Sir." "Of course that's not your real name is it? Hmm? We've been checking up on you. This is you isn't it?" he said, sliding a piece of paper across the desk. Jenny consciously tried to stop her hands trembling as she picked it up. It was her real CV, with her name and occupation in bold type across the top. "Maybe. What if it is?" she replied, trying to act casually, trying not to think about the fantasy she'd had the other night. "There's no 'maybe' about it. You're not seriously denying it are you?" "Okay, fine. You've caught me red-handed. There's no need for the drama. I'll just get my things and leave, alright?" "Well it's not quite as simple as that. We're going to need you to sign this before you leave," he continued, sliding a second piece of paper across to her. Jenny picked it up. It read "Non Disclosure Agreement" across the top. "It's a standard NDA," Mr Eriksson said. "It prevents you from revealing publically anything you've found out whilst working here fraudulently." "I see," Jenny said. "And what on earth makes you think I'm going to sign." "Well, let's say you publish a story. And let's assume that you make certain allegations about the school and its staff." "Yes?" Jenny said, nodding. "Sooner or later there'd have to be some kind of investigation. Either by the police or by Ofsted, or maybe both. We'd have to co-operate and get everything out into the open. A lot of people's reputations could end up getting tarnished. Including yours of course." "Mine? Why? Because I lied about my name? Don't be ridiculous." The two men exchanged glances, before the headmaster slid a large brown envelope across the desk. Jenny slid her hand inside and found a number of large, grainy black-and-white photo's. She covered her half-open mouth with her hand as she examined them one-by-one. They were a series of pictures of her and David, obviously taken on Friday. One of her unzipping his jeans, a playful smile on her face. One of David easing her top up over her boobs, her arms stretched above her head. Another of her straddling his lap, her skirt tugged up revealing acres of bare thigh. "Mr Lean didn't know anything about this, by the way," the headmaster said, almost apologetically. "You hid a camera in his room?" "Yes, we heard you were going to the pub with him so that seemed like a good idea." "I see. Blackmail, is it? Is this really the best you can do?" The headmaster spread his hands. "All we're saying is that if there was an investigation we'd want to make it clear how you got all your information. All that lying and spying on people. And sleeping with one of our teachers, of course." "How many people have seen these?" she asked, after a long silence. "Just you and I. So far." Jenny shook her head. "Nice try but you can't intimidate me with your sordid blackmail scheme. In fact, I might just mention this desperate attempt to buy my silence in my story," she said, dismissively sliding the photo's back in the envelope. "Well, if your mind's made up. How do you think your boyfriend will feel about it though? It's Derek, isn't it? Do you think Derek will still want to marry you when these pictures are made public?" Jenny swore under her breath. He was right of course, Derek would be heart-broken. "And what about your parents? They still live in Eastbrook, don't they? How will they cope?" he continued. "Do you know how much abuse is going right under your nose, headmaster?" "Don't change the subject." "How many girls are being abused by disgusting, middle-aged teachers who should know better?" "Listen, I won't be lectured about morality by a journalist who lied her way into my school and sleeps with people to get her stories. Now are you going to sign or not?" he said, sliding a pen across the desktop towards her. Jenny signed the form with an angry flourish, before getting to her feet. "You win this time headmaster, but you haven't heard the last of this," she said angrily as she exited the office slamming the door behind her. --- After the lawyer had left, the headmaster stood by the window for a while, watching as the sky darkened and a steady rain started to fall, the heavy drops rolling down the glass. Behind him, the ancient radiators clanked and ticked and rattled into life. He had no doubt that Jenny was right. There would be others poking around. He always had to be vigilant and he regretted being away so long and leaving Wicklow in charge. The old fool had probably hired the first young lady with a nice smile and a shapely pair of legs. He'd have to have a word later and find out if he had even bothered to check her fake references. In retrospect, maybe he'd been hasty in making him the deputy head. Perhaps he needed someone new, someone from outside of the school. Yes, maybe a new broom was what they needed, someone to come in and get to the bottom of all those nasty rumours once and for all. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 03 Winter Sunshine (1) ------------------ Friday, 18 October ------------------ The old Jaguar sped along the main road, the harsh noise of its engine echoing off the stone walls of the row of cottages on the edge of Eastbrook. It quickly climbed the steep slope of the hill, its headlights cutting through the early morning mist. Past the neat rows of new houses overlooking the village nestling in the valley, then past the golf course, the reservoir, past the ragged hedgerows and out through the fields and farms of the downs. The engine growled as the headmaster shifted into second gear and twisted the steering wheel, taking the tight left near the Fox and Hounds. As he turned into it, the low winter sun momentarily blinded him and he reached forward, pulling the visor down to shield his eyes. There was a copy of today's Eastbrook Echo on the passenger seat beneath his briefcase; he'd got into the habit of buying a copy every Friday morning on his way into the school. He religiously checked for any evidence of stories about the school but so far it seemed that young Jenny Coombes had kept her word. The unsettling episode with the young journalist had made him think though. She'd seemed confident that she'd found plenty of evidence of misconduct at the school, and after talking about it with one of the governors he'd decided to bring an old colleague in to conduct an independent audit. He was a little earlier this morning. He had a busy day ahead and wanted to get an early start. At the top of his agenda was a meeting with the Reverend Green and his daughter, Faith. He'd seemed very keen on getting her into the school and with the school finances the way they were at the moment they needed all the paying students they could accommodate, so he was keen to make a good impression. The Reverend turned out to be a round, jolly-looking fellow with red cheeks and small, round glasses perched on his stubby nose. His daughter wore glasses too but where he was large and round, she was small and slight, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands folded neatly in her lap. She sat quietly, her dark eyes peering at him beneath her blonde fringe, as her father explained why she was looking for a school partway through the academic year. "We've just got back from Africa, you see," he explained. "We've lived out there for years, most recently at a Christian mission in Ghana. But my wife's mother isn't well. That's where she is today, at her parent's house in Brighton. They're both in their eighties, you see. Health's not getting any better, so when a vacancy arose at one of the parish churches there we decided it was best to come back, so we could be near them." "I see," the headmaster said, warming his hands on his cup of tea. "And so young Faith needs a school." "Yes indeed, and we've heard good things about St Catherine's, very good things." "Well it's a lovely day now that the fog has cleared," the headmaster said gesturing towards the window. "Let's take a walk and you can both have a look around, and we'll see if we can't come to some arrangement." Walking down the path towards the river, the reverend gently grasped the headmaster's arm, slowing him down whilst Faith strolled on ahead of them, chatting to one of the prefects. "Listen, " he said. "The thing about Faith is that she's grown up in a world of churches and all-girls schools. She's spent all her teenage years in remote areas of Africa without satellite TV or facebook or twitter or any of the things that seem to so preoccupy teenagers these days. As far as I know, she's never even had a boyfriend. Of course, there's nothing wrong with innocence and purity but I do sometimes worry that she's a little too innocent." "You worry that people might take advantage of her?" "Yes, you know although she's eighteen she's still my little girl," he chuckled. "That's one of the reasons we were so attracted to St Catherine's. I understand this is quite a traditional school." "Yes, we very much believe in a classical education without any of the distractions of modern life. So, for example, there's a ban on mobile phones from Monday to Friday and access to the internet is strictly controlled." "I see, very good. And what about boys? I bet some of your girls must be tempted to sneak out in the evenings to meet boys at the local pubs and clubs, eh?" "The nearest village is Eastbrook and that's only a small place. Just a couple of pubs, no nightclubs, but even that's a two mile hike through the fields. The nearest decent-sized town near here is Burfield, but that's miles away. So the girls tend to spend their weekends here." "I see, so less chance of them getting into trouble, eh?" "Indeed so, reverend. Take it from me; this school is ideal for young Faith. You can be sure that no-one's going to take advantage of her here." --- Later, when he was driving home, the headmaster realised that he'd forgotten to 'phone his old friend, Helen Feldman. He'd been so preoccupied with making the arrangements for young Faith that he simply hadn't had time. It wasn't ideal, but in the end they'd found that the only spare place was in a dorm with Vicky Amery. Vicky had only been with them a couple of months, but she already seemed to have acquired a reputation as something of a bad girl. Never mind, perhaps some of Faith's innocence would rub off on her. As for Helen, he'd just have to remember to call her later, after dinner. --- "Please, Helen, don't stop," Phil moaned as Helen slowly ran a fingertip along the taut, oily skin of his cock. Helen smiled as she teased him. She so enjoyed tormenting him, he was the perfect submissive, such fun to play with. Her boyfriend was naked and spread-eagled on the bed, his wrists and ankles tied to the corners with some of her brightly coloured silk scarves. She often wondered what made her so dominant in the bedroom. Was it all those skills learnt in her years of teaching spilling over into her private life? Or was she simply born that kind of woman? The kind of woman who enjoyed controlling a classroom of schoolchildren as much as she enjoyed bending weak men to her will. She found men such simple creatures, so easy to predict and control. Women were much more complicated, their minds a complex swirl of emotions and thoughts, their bodies full of erogenous zones. Men, however, seemed to have only one big erogenous zone she thought as she watched Phil's thick cock swaying in front of her, begging for her attention. "Now now Phil, you know the rules, what's rule number one?" she said sternly. "Ladies first," Phil said. "Meaning?" she replied, running a finger along the underside of his straining prick. "Oh God, please," he groaned, struggling to answer as she toyed with his straining shaft. Helen smiled, recalling a cartoon she'd seen the other day of a large switch entitled "Male Blood Flow" with two settings: "Brain" and "Cock". It was true: even the most intelligent of men seemed to have so much trouble answering a simple question when aroused. "Come on, concentrate!" she said sternly, tightly squeezing his swollen balls to get his attention. "You must always cum first, mistress," Phil gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily as she grasped his shaft between her slick fingers and used her thumb to massage the engorged purple head. "That's right; I cum first, second and third. And you cum only if you're very good. Very good indeed, understand?" she said, squeezing his balls again until he nodded, a hoarse whimper escaping his dry lips. They both looked towards her dressing table at the sudden intrusive noise of her mobile phone ringing. Helen cursed under her breath as she tottered towards it a little unsteadily on her black stilettos. They were the highest heels she owned and she generally only wore them in the bedroom, they were simply too impractical to walk any distance in. She couldn't imagine making it down the stairs in them without breaking her neck. They completed her classic 'Mistress' outfit; a tight-laced corset which did wonders for her figure, waspishly squeezing her waist and lifting her ample boobs emphasizing the generous swell of her cleavage; a pair of sheer stockings, lacy elbow-length gloves and a tiny pair of silk panties. Of course, all of the clothing was a perfect midnight black. "Yes?" she said briskly, picking up the phone before settling back on the bed. "Hello Helen? It's me, I'm sorry if this is a bad time," said the voice on the other end, sensing her impatience. "Oh, headmaster, what a surprise! How nice to hear from you." "Yes, well sorry to ring you so late but it's been quite a day here. I've been thinking about calling you since the conference. I seem to remember telling me that you're between jobs at the moment." "Yes, that's right," Helen said, a little puzzled. "My new position at the Napier girls school in Edinburgh doesn't begin till March so I'm having some time off to indulge my hobbies at the moment," she said, her thumb and forefinger circling Phil's throbbing shaft and slowly sliding up and down its considerable length. "Right, right. Well I was wondering if you'd consider doing me a favour. One of our history teachers, Mr Sanders, has been taken ill. It was all quite sudden. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping us out for a couple of months?" "Oh! Well it's good of you to think of me but there must be dozens of history teachers who live closer to you than I do." "Yes, but I need someone I can trust. I honestly think you'd be the best candidate." "Well, you know it's too far for me to commute so you'd have to put me up there," Helen said, holding the phone to her ear as she absent-mindedly continued to stroke Phil's eager prick with her gloved hand. "Well that's not a problem; there are plenty of spare rooms here. And there's another reason I thought of you. You see I've also been thinking about reviewing the disciplinary system. I could ask one of my teachers, or maybe getting one of the board members to do it but I think I'd rather have someone who's independent. Someone with a broad range of experience but who's not directly connected to us." "A disciplinary review? Now that does sound interesting," she drawled, making Phil whimper as she moved her hand a little quicker, gripping him a little tighter. The precum spilled from the tip of his cock causing a little damp patch in her glove. "Yes, there have been rumours of abuses in the system. By pupils and teachers. I mean, I'm sure there's nothing in it, just malicious gossip. I just need to make sure that there's nothing unpleasant going on. What's that noise, by the way?" "Oh, it's just the TV. I'll just go and turn it down. Hang on," she said, putting the phone on the bed. Helen calmly took a black scarf from her drawer and tied it around Phil's head, gagging his open mouth. "You still have corporal punishment there, don't you?" she said, picking her phone back up with her free hand as she continued to pleasure her boyfriend with the other. "Yes, we're one of the few remaining schools that do. It's quite a key selling point to parents with, how shall I put this, 'challenging' daughters so I'd be loathe to abandon it without good reason." "I see. So I'd be in complete charge of this, only reporting to you?" she said over Phil's desperate but now muffled groans. "Yes, of course." "And I'd be able to talk freely to any of the teachers or students?" "Absolutely, I'd instruct everyone to cooperate with you fully. I want this to be a thorough and comprehensive review or there's little point in doing it at all." "Well, as I say, it does sound very tempting. To be honest, I've been at a loose end without the teaching to keep me occupied." "Great, well it sounds like we're both happy in principal. Why don't you come down on Sunday? You know where we are, don't you? We can discuss things in detail then. I appreciate that you've a lot of experience and you're helping out at short notice so I'm thinking we'll put you on the senior salary scale." "OK, well that sounds great. I'll give you a call before Sunday and let you know when I'm arriving." "Thanks for this, Helen; I'm sure you'll do a great job." "OK thanks headmaster,' bye." she said. During the call she'd been absent-mindedly stroking Phil's shaft and now she noticed how close to cumming he was. His face flushed, eyes screwed shut, his wrists and ankles straining against his bonds and his hips jerking as he thrust his cock through her oily fingers, desperate for release. She let him continue for a few moments, a wicked grin forming on her scarlet lips, before releasing him, enjoying the sound of his frustrated groans. "What a naughty boy you are!" Helen admonished as she slapped his painfully swollen prick. "You know you're supposed to warn me when you're getting close. You know the second rule: you always need to ask permission before I let you cum." "Sorry mistress," he gasped disappointedly, although it came out as a muffled "ssssyyy, mmmssssttss". "Whatever am I going to do with you, you bad boy?" she said, smiling cruelly as she pinched his fleshy inner thigh, squeezing and twisting the hot skin till he begged her to stop. Helen tossed the phone onto the bed and got to her feet. She paced up and down, her sharp heels sinking into the thick carpet. This could be a really good opportunity for her. St Catherine's had quite a reputation and would definitely stand out on her CV. And it sounded like she'd be well reimbursed. Suddenly, things were looking up. Phil's anguished groans drew her attention back to the bed. He was wriggling about pathetically, his thick cock swaying backwards and forwards like yacht's mast in stormy seas. Helen glared at him angrily as she eased her black panties over her well-rounded hips. There was a faint hiss of static as she slid them over her long nylon legs, resting one hand on the bed as she slipped them over her heels. She amused herself for a few moments by dangling the black silk above his hips and drawing it along the slope of his straining shaft. His moans were muffled by the gag as she lightly drew them back and forth over the inflamed, glistening head of his cock. "You have been a bad boy, haven't you?" she said as she climbed onto the bed, sitting astride his chest. He nodded as she ran her hands behind his head then unfastened his makeshift gag. "Yes Mistress," he panted. Helen felt his chest heave beneath her as he gasped for air. She spread her knees and edged forward till naked pussy was positioned over his open mouth. "Now what do you say?" she said, grasping a handful of his short, black hair. "Please may I lick you?" "Yes, you may," she said then sighed happily as he obediently began to lick her naked thighs. "Oh yes, that's very good." "Now, " she purred as she used her index and middle fingers to spread her moist, pink folds. "You're going to lick me till I cum. Till I cum all over your pathetic face. Do you understand?" She smiled as he nodded. "And if I'm not fully satisfied you can forget me touching this thing again," she said, making him jump as she reached behind and swatted his still-hard cock with the back of her hand. "But if you're very good and I have a particularly spectacular orgasm I might just let you cum as well. Is that understood?" With his mouth pressed tightly against her moist pussy Phil could only nod and hope that for once she would show him some mercy. ---------------------- Wednesday, 13 November ---------------------- Faith lay in bed, pretending to read her book but couldn't help being distracted by the sight of Vicky undressing in the semi-darkness. She pushed her glasses up over her nose as she watched the eighteen-year-old brunette unbutton her white uniform blouse, exposing full boobs straining against her bra as she shrugged it from her shoulders. Then she was unfastening her olive-green, wrap-around skirt before tossing it into the wash-basket on top of her blouse. Vicky turned away from her as she reached behind her back, her fingers fumbling with the clasp of her white bra, allowing Faith to stare at her openly. Vicky had a lovely body, tall and curvy with a deliciously pert bottom. Her long mane of curly chocolate-coloured hair swished against her bare back as she slipped her bra from her arms. Faith couldn't help staring at her beautifully round breasts as Vicky picked up a long, white nightgown from the bed. The brunette glanced over at her and Faith's heart fluttered as she realised she'd been caught staring. "That's a lovely nightgown. It suits you," she said, before raising her book and hoping Vicky wouldn't notice her flushed cheeks. "Thanks. Well goodnight then," Vicky replied, as she got into bed and switched off her bedside light. Vicky wasn't really sure what to make of her new roommate. She was pale and slim and quiet, and very much kept herself to herself. She was like a ghost drifting in and out their dorm room. And sometimes she caught Faith staring at her too. Very odd. Still, she did seem nice enough when she talked, often commented on how nice Vicky looked and helped with her homework. Vicky wasn't really sure what to make of the school either. It was very isolated and she felt a long way away from her home. It was much stricter than her old school too, there were so many rules! It was obvious that her mother had chosen it as a punishment for getting expelled from her last school. It was all so unfair. It wasn't as if she was having full-on sex with that boy. They were just fooling around a little. It wasn't as if they were completely naked. There wasn't much chance of finding a boyfriend here. They were miles from civilisation. Out here in the sticks, it felt like she was a million miles away from the bright lights of London. No clubs or bars in which to meet boys. The only men around here were the teachers and most of them looked like they already had one foot in the grave. The only one she fancied was the boyishly good-looking Mr Lean, with his broad shoulders and smouldering eyes. He probably wasn't much older than her. If only she could find a way to get him alone. Given a chance, she could teach him a thing or two, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. --------------------- Thursday, 14 November --------------------- "Bloody alarm clock!" David muttered to himself as he ran down the corridor. He was usually very punctual but this morning he was late for the weekly staff meeting. They were always held in the staff room at 8 o'clock on Thursday mornings. He got there just as the headmaster started to speak and slipped in at the back by the windows, hoping he wouldn't be noticed. "Alright, are we all here now?" the headmaster asked, looking pointedly at David. The other teachers were scattered around the room, some sitting down nursing cups of tea, others stood leaning against the wall by the windows, others pouring hot water from the kettle into steaming mugs. There were a few mutters of "yes" so he pressed on. "Well then, first things first: you all know that Mr Sanders has been taken ill so we need someone to cover his classes. So let me introduce Helen Feldman. She's an old colleague of mine and I trust you'll all do your best to make her feel at home," he said, gesturing to the smartly dressed woman standing on his right. David watched her as she stepped forward and introduced herself, talking about her years of experience in education. She looked like she was in her late thirties, with wavy dark brown hair, intelligent green eyes behind her black, thick-framed glasses and her curvy figure squeezed into a knee-length light-grey skirt and a tailored white blouse. She had an air of maturity and authority that he couldn't help finding attractive. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 03 "I look forward to working with you all," she concluded. "Thank-you, Helen. Now, while she's here I've also asked Helen to review our disciplinary system," the headmaster continued. "Review the disciplinary system?" Wicklow repeated. "Yes, Mr Wicklow," the head replied. "Now I'm sure you're all aware that there are rumours of the system being abused." He held his hands up before Wicklow could speak again. "I'm sure we all know there's no truth in this innuendo but I think it would be best to end this unnecessary gossip once and for all. So Helen's going to be compiling a report for me and I expect all of you," he said, looking straight at Wicklow, "to answer any questions she has for you and to co-operate with her fully. Any questions?" He paused and took a sip of his tea as Wicklow muttered something inaudible under his breath. "OK, well then I take it you'll all do everything you can to help Helen. Just a couple more things then. One: can someone organise a 'Get Well Soon' card for Mr Sanders?" he said looking around the room and smiling as his new secretary raised her hand. "Thank you Cathleen. And secondly, Mr Lean: according to the rota it's your turn to do the monthly stock-run." David nodded glumly. He hated that job. "You should do what I do," Wicklow said as he passed him on his way to the door. "Get one of your students to help you. You'll get it done a lot quicker." --- At the sound of the bell, the classroom was filled with the noise of the students quickly gathering their books and papers and stuffing them into their satchels. It was lunchtime and David knew they all wanted to be first in the queue at the canteen. "OK, wait a second, the bell's a signal for me not for you, so everybody sit back down," he said, trying to make himself heard over the sound of chairs scraping the wooden floor. "Two things: don't forget your next assignment's due by Friday. Any later and you'll be awarded zero marks without a very good excuse. And secondly, I need a volunteer to help me in the stock room on Saturday. Any takers?" Vicky immediately raised her hand. He looked around the classroom, doing his best to ignore Vicky's hand waving in the air right in front of him. It wasn't that he didn't like her. Quite the opposite, she was a very attractive young woman and that was the problem. Of the two women he'd slept with since he'd joined the school, one of them had blackmailed him, and the other had left the school suddenly and in mysterious circumstances. With this new teacher, Helen, sniffing around for any improper behaviour he was keen not to get into any situations where he might be tempted to do something he shouldn't. But as he looked around the class, he was disappointed to find that there were no other volunteers. "OK, Vicky," he said, trying not to sound ungrateful. "Thanks; meet me outside the store room after breakfast on Saturday." ------------------- Friday, 15 November ------------------- "OK, well is there anything else? Anything at all that you might be worried about?" Helen asked. The girl's thick ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head. "OK, well thanks for your time. Can you send the next girl in please?" Helen watched as the girl disappeared out of the door, then put a line through her name on the list. She was the ninth girl she'd interviewed this morning and the twenty-ninth overall, and so far none of them had reported anything worth investigating further. Either the headmaster was wrong about there being something fishy going on, or they were all too intimidated to talk about it. Some of them had talked about abuses of the system but it was all too vague to be useful to Helen. It was always rumours about a friend of a friend of their sister's who'd been at the school five or six years ago. Oh well, maybe the next girl would be more helpful, she thought, trying her best to remain optimistic. "Have a seat," Helen said, smiling as the girl entered the room. She noticed that the girl, who looked younger than her stated age of eighteen, already looked tense. "Thank-you Miss," the girl said. "Now, you must be Holly Clarkson" she continued, checking off the name on her list. Holly nodded. "Well now Holly, first of all anything you say is just between you and me, this is all completely confidential. If you tell me about something that's happened to you or someone you know your name won't appear in my final report, so it's all completely anonymous. Not even the headmaster will know the names of the students making allegations. okay?" "Yes Miss." "So I'm just going to ask you a few questions and anything you tell me stays in this room. Alright? So this is an investigation into teachers and students abusing the disciplinary system. Now, firstly, have any of the teachers here ever made sexual advances towards you?" Helen looked up as the girl hesitated. "It could be anything; using sexual terms in your presence, telling dirty jokes, maybe touching you," she said, encouragingly. "Well there was this thing at the end of last year. Are you sure you won't mention my name in your report?" "Yes, absolutely," Helen said, picking up her pen. "And I won't get into trouble?" "No, I promise." "Well if a teacher makes him touch him, you know, down there, it would be wrong wouldn't it?" "Of course! Do you want to tell me what happened, Holly? Start at the beginning." "Well I'd been late to class several times, and the last time Miss Rogers got really angry with me and sent me to the headmaster's office. Except the headmaster was away that week so I was seen by the deputy head, Mr Wicklow." Helen nodded encouragingly as she scribbled some notes. She'd heard a lot of rumours about Wicklow but nothing concrete. Until now. "Well, at first he said he was going to spank me. He got out his cane and told me he was going to spank me so hard I wouldn't be able to sit down for a week! He seemed very angry. Then he started saying that if I did him a 'favour' he might spare me." "I see," Helen said, looking up. "I bet this 'favour' involved you touching him." "Yes Miss, he unzipped his trousers and got his thing out." "He got his penis out? Right there in the office?" "Yes Miss. Then he grabbed my wrist and made me touch him." "He made you touch his penis?" "Uh huh. He wrapped his hand around mine and made me stroke it up and down." "Disgusting! You poor girl." "It was all hard Miss. He made me keep stroking it. Then he started telling me to go faster." "So you kept stroking him with your hand?" "Yes Miss, after a while he made me kiss it and he put it in my mouth." "He made you perform oral sex on him?" Helen said, shaking her head. "Yes Miss. He got very agitated, grunting and groaning and telling me not to stop." "I see." "Yes, then eventually he, you know, finished." "Good grief! And this all happened in the headmaster's office. Does anyone else know about this?" Helen said, shaking her head as she continued to scribble her notes. The girl shook her head. "I didn't know who to tell. The headmaster always seems to be quite close to Mr Wicklow. I told my roommates, you can check with them. And the secretary saw me go in. I think her name was Miss Courtney, but she's not here anymore." "Did he say anything after you'd finished?" "No, he just told me to get back to class. He's not said anything to me since." After Helen thanked the girl and reassured her, again, that it was all completely confidential, she leant back in her chair. At last, some firm evidence against one of the teachers! She was supposed to be impartial but she couldn't help feeling her time at the school would be wasted if she didn't find anything at all. She smiled as she finished writing her notes. In the headmaster's own office! She couldn't wait to see his face when she told him that little story. --------------------- Saturday, 16 November --------------------- The storeroom was at the bottom of a flight of precariously narrow stone steps, behind a large wooden door that was unlocked with the brass key that David had retrieved from the office. It was surprisingly large and warm. David flicked the light switch and sighed audibly when it made little difference to the gloomy dimness. The old, yellow light bulbs glowed weakly high in the vaulted ceiling. Although the school used it for storage, David figured that the cavernous space must have been originally been used as a wine cellar. From the top of the steps, he could see lines of long wooden shelving which divided the space into narrow maze of corridors and walkways. Its walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling gunmetal grey filing cabinets. At the far end was an open area containing old furniture: chairs missing legs, tables with cigarette burns and old mattresses. Beyond that, there was a small room that housed the ancient boiler which ran the school's heating system and warmed the dank air. Large hot water pipes emerged from the room and ran along the tops of the walls, before disappearing up into the ground floor above. David surveyed the rows and rows of shelves disappearing into the shadows. They were stacked high with boxes of pens and pencils, heaps of folders and notepads, and thick bundles of photocopier paper. It was such a dark and cluttered environment that the older teachers refused to come down here. "Health and safety" they'd cry, so there was a rota of younger teachers and secretaries that came down once a month to gather supplies for them. Today, it was his turn. At the bottom of the stairs, he handed one of the lists and a cardboard box to Vicky. David had given this some thought and figured there'd be a lot less temptation if he avoided her. "Here you go," he said. "Oh, aren't we going to work together Sir?" Vicky asked as she took the box, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. "I think it's going to be quicker if we work this way," he said. "But give me a shout if you need any help." Vicky muttered darkly to herself as she walked up and down, collecting boxes of staples and rolls of sellotape from the shelves. This wasn't what she'd had in mind. She hadn't wasted a Saturday morning just to be helpful. She'd pictured herself flirting with him as they collected the items together, his eyes meeting hers through gaps in the cluttered shelves. Their bodies brushing against each other as they squeezed passed each other in the narrow aisles. If she'd known this was how things were going to work out, she wouldn't have volunteered in the first place. After a while though, she noticed that the remaining items on her list were on the top shelves, out of her reach, which gave her an idea. "Sir, can you give me a hand?" she said, as she positioned an aluminium ladder, and placed a foot on the bottom rung. "What is it?" he said, his head appearing around the corner. "Can you hold this ladder please? I'm not very good with heights." "Oh OK, well I'm taller. I can go up if you want." "No, no, I'll be OK," she insisted, carefully ascending the steps as he gripped the cold metal frame. David watched her hips sway and she climbed the ladder unsteadily, the noise of her sensible black shoes on the metallic rungs echoing in the confined space. He pressed his foot against the foot of the ladder as she tentatively climbed higher. Vicky kept climbing until her feet were level with his shoulders, giving him an excellent view of her shapely legs. He had the sudden urge to run his hands up over her white knee socks till he was caressing the smooth, bare skin between her socks and the hem of her skirt. To perhaps go further, sliding his hands beneath her short skirt and testing the firmness of those pert-looking buttocks. Wobbling a little at the top of the ladder Vicky could almost feel his hot gaze burning into her legs. She pretended to look around the dusty shelves, hoping that he wouldn't notice as her deft fingers carefully loosened some of the buttons on her blouse. She couldn't resist teasing him a little, stretching forward and pretending to retrieve a box from the back of the shelf. Below David watched with growing excitement as her olive-green, pleated skirt ride up over her smooth skin and he glimpsed a flash of her white panties between her bare thighs. "I think I see what I want," she said. "Me too," he muttered, leaning forward and eyeing the peachy roundness of her derriere. "What's that, Sir?" she said as she handed down a large box of staples. "Oh, nothing," he replied, placing it on the shelf in front of him. "OK, I'm coming down now," she said as she began to descend, her foot reaching out tentatively in the semi-darkness, feeling for the next step. "Oh!" she squealed girlishly as she pretended to miss a step. "OK, I've got you," David said, instinctively reaching out and grabbing her trim waist as she regained her balance and wobbled her way down the remaining steps. As she inched her way down the last few steps David couldn't resist letting his hands slide up over her stomach, then up over the smooth contours of her breasts. He leant in close, feeling the soft, warm curves of her young body against his. She smelled delicious; was she wearing perfume? "I think I'm OK now Sir," Vicky said, keeping her face turned away from him so he couldn't see the satisfied smile playing around her lips as she felt his hands caressing her boobs. David couldn't help himself. He nuzzled her neck as his fingers slid inwards, squeezing and fondling her firm, cupcake boobs in the semi-darkness. "Oh!" Vicky gasped, hoping that he'd think she was crying out in shock and indignation and not because of the hot, tingly sensations that his eager hands were causing. She could already feel her nipples hardening, pressing against the lacy, white, half-cup bra she'd chosen to wear. She pretended to try and wriggle from his firm grasp, loving the feel of his hard, firm body pressing her against the ladder. "Please Sir, you mustn't," she insisted innocently, as she felt him fumbling with the tiny white buttons of her blouse. She wrapped her hands around his as if trying to pull them away, gripping the material so that her blouse was pulled apart as she pulled his hands away, the few remaining buttons that were still fastened giving way under the strain and skittering away into the darkness. "Oh Sir, look what you've done!" she shrieked, spinning around in the tight space. David could hardly help but stare at her nicely rounded boobs barely covered by her skimpy bra, before she crossed her arms across her heaving chest. She struggled half-heartedly as he slowly and deliberately grasped her slim, pale wrists in his large hands and pushed them above her head, pinning her back against the shelving unit. "Please Sir, we really shouldn't be doing this, what if someone comes in and sees us?" she said. "Come on Vicky," he said knowingly. "I've noticed the way you stare at me in class. You know you want this as much as I do." She watched, like a rabbit caught in headlights, as his lips descended towards her. He was a good kisser, his warm lips pressing against hers, gently but insistently exploring her plump lips. She let out a muffled yelp as she felt his tongue darting between her half-open lips. When he moved away a little, she twisted her head to one side as if trying to resist him but only succeeding in exposing the graceful curve of her neck. She couldn't suppress a groan of excitement as she felt him tug her long, brown curls aside and nuzzle the sensitive skin, sending exciting little ripples of anticipation through her. "No, stop!" Vicky said, squirming with pleasure as he caressed her young body. His octopus hands seemed to be everywhere! Simultaneously he seemed to be caressing her cheek, squeezing her breasts under her thin bra, and reaching under her skirt to caress her tightly clenched thighs as he kissed her passionately. She couldn't help moaning as he slid a hand up under her skirt and squeezed her rounded buttocks, pulling her thighs against his so that she could feel the steely hardness in his trousers. She gave in to the delicious feelings, running her hands around his broad shoulders as her body melted against his, the firm muscles of his chest pressing against her semi-naked boobs. "Yes," she groaned as he tugged her skirt up over her hot thighs and slid a hand between her legs, his eager fingers stroking the already damp material of her panties. She hurriedly unbuttoned his white cotton shirt with trembling fingers, and tugged it open, kissing the newly exposed skin, her lips gliding over his neck. David groaned as he felt her deft fingers sliding down over his bare chest then tugging his belt undone. "Yes, that's it," he said, as he watched her slim fingers unzipping his flies and easing his trousers over his hips. "Gosh, you're so hard, is that all for me?" she teased, her fingers tracing the outline of his erection through his black shorts. "Oh God, yes," he groaned as she eased his trousers down around his knees. "Then you'll have to catch me!" she laughed, as she nimbly twisted away from him and skipped down the narrow aisle. "Ow! Come back here, you little tease!" he growled, trying to run after her as the sound of her giggling echoed around the shelves. She looked back over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss and grinning at the farcical sight of him, trying to chase her and pull his trousers up at the same time. She skipped around the corner, and once out of his sight, slowed down allowing him to catch up whilst she loosened the buttons on her wrap-around skirt. She'd come to a stop at a dead end, near a stack of old mattresses just as she'd planned. "Aha, got you!" he said, as he caught her up, one hand holding up his trousers, the other lunging at her wildly. "No!" she squealed dramatically as she felt his hand shoot out and grab her skirt. As she tried to pull away, she felt the buttons give and her skirt unravelled. She found herself performing a neat pirouette before landing on the old mattresses in a tangled heap of bare limbs and white underwear. "Oh Sir!" she mewed, as she lay on top of the mattresses, looking up at him standing over her as she tried to cover both her tiny bra and panties with only limited success. He paused, swaying slightly, holding the limp skirt in his fist and drinking in the sight of her long, bare legs. And then, he was kneeling, sliding onto the makeshift bed beside her, all thoughts of self-restraint forgotten. "Enough of the games, girl," he growled hungrily, his hungry lips tasting her skin, exploring her soft contours. "Please, no Sir," Vicky said. She still couldn't resist playing hard to get, pushing at his chest ineffectively, sliding her hands over the firm slabs of muscle beneath his open-necked shirt. But he wasn't to be denied, his hands gliding over her naked tingling flesh, whilst his hot lips kissed her neck and shoulders, finding that spot beneath her left ear that drove her wild. She shivered as she felt him slip the thin straps of her bra over her smooth shoulders and roughly tugged at her skimpy bra till her full rounded breasts popped out of the cups. Vicky couldn't suppress a little cry of pleasure as he drew one of her nut-brown nipples into the warm, wetness of his mouth. His tongue teasing the succulent little bud as she squirmed happily beneath him. "No, no," she kept moaning but her body was saying "yes" as he slid a hand between her warm, silky thighs and gently began to stroke the textured lace of her panties. It felt so good! It had been so long since a man had touched her there and she couldn't deny the fierce heat spreading from her thighs. She kicked off her shoes as his deft fingers stroked her feverish, wet centre. Then he was tugging the tiny white scrap of lace over her hips and down over her long legs, leaving her naked apart from her knee socks and the remains of her blouse. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 03 "Yes, yes" she sobbed as his warm lips left a trail of hot kisses along her stomach and his fingers explored her ripe, juicy pussy. It had been so many long, lonely nights since she'd been touched there. Her body twisted and shuddered as he slid a finger inside her, causing delicious urgent sensations to run up her spine. Alarm bells rang inside her head as he began to fuck her with his thick fingers and his wicked tongue lapped hungrily at the juices spilling from her velvety lips. It had been so long that she felt herself cumming almost immediately. "Yes, yes, don't stop!" she panted urgently as her hot, young body pivoted around his tongue and fingers. The delicious sensations growing stronger and stronger until she was overwhelmed. "Yes!" she squealed, her whole body jerking and convulsing, her eyes squeezed shut as she rode the hot waves of her orgasm. When she'd regained her breath, she watched through half-open eyes as Mr Lean hurriedly stripped off his clothes. She couldn't take her eyes off his lovely long cock swinging between his muscular thighs as he roughly pushed her knees apart and knelt between them. "Please," she sighed as she watched him wrap his fist around the thick shaft and slowly rub the blunt tip against her puffy lips. She was no longer sure whether she meant "Please stop", or "Please be gentle", or "Please, don't make me wait". She held her breath as she felt his lovely, thick cock press urgently against her tight lips. Then she released in a low, guttural sob of pleasure as he eased himself inside the tight, welcoming embrace of her pussy. David moaned as he eased the swollen, bulbous head of his cock into her, watching her moist lips stretching to accommodate his generous girth. She was so tight! At first he could only slip the top two inches of his cock into her, and fucked her with short, shallow strokes that felt heavenly, but left them both aching for more. As her juices coated his throbbing shaft he was able to slide deeper, each extra inch causing her to mew with a heady mixture of pleasure and pain. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, her stockinged feet pressing against the solid muscle of his buttocks drawing him deep inside her as he began to fuck her with his full length. Slowly at first, but quickly speeding up, her helpless little sobs of pleasure spurring him on. Soon their entwined bodies shone with sweat as they twisted and bucked and bounced on the mattress, his eager lips nipping at her sensitive nipples. "Oh God, don't stop!" Vicky panted, her sharp pink fingernails clawing at his naked back as his powerful thighs drove his fat cock deep into her. "Ow! Fuck!" he grunted as he felt her sharp little teeth sink into the sensitive skin of his neck and her nails raking his back. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. Vicky felt his weight pinning her back against the mattress, impaled on his throbbing shaft, her knees folded back against her boobs, her stockinged feet waving in the air. She panted loudly as he fucked her with renewed vigour, his firm buttocks bobbing up and down as his muscular thighs drove his thick cock deep between her wide-open legs. "Yes, fuck me, fuck me harder!" he heard her squeal loudly as his muscles burned. She was making so much noise now, her strangled cries of pleasure echoing off the vaulted ceiling. He should have been worried that someone might hear, but he didn't care now, nothing would make him stop. His thigh muscles burned as their bodies slammed together, and the rippling walls of her pussy squeezed his cock. His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as he thrust faster and faster, harder and harder, their thighs making a wet slapping noise as he fucked her feverishly. "Don't stop, please make me cum!" he heard her plead, her desperate voice a thin, high-pitched wail. With a final flurry of short, desperate thrusts he came, feeling his hot semen surging through his shaft and spilling deep inside her, his eyes squeezed shut as the world spun dizzily around them. Moments later, he felt her twist and shudder beneath him, her pussy clasping his dick, squeezing the last few drops of spunk from him as she uttered a long wail of ecstasy, her thighs squeezing all the breath from him. As they lay together in the semi-darkness, Vicky turned her head away and smiled a very contented smile. ------------------- Monday, 18 November ------------------- Helen looked up from her laptop at the sound of firm knocking. "Hello? How's it going?" Mr Wicklow said, poking his head around her door. "Ah Mr Wicklow, you mean my report? It's going rather well, thanks. Do you have a minute? I've been meaning to have a word with you, so if you've got a minute..." "Well now," he said, taking a seat and smiling at her."What have the girls been saying, hmm? Nothing too incriminating I hope." "Well, it's funny you should mention that. Actually there are a couple of things I need to check with you." "Really?" Wicklow said, the smile quickly draining from his face. "Yes. Let me ask you something straight out: have you ever made sexual advances towards any of the students here?" "Of course not!" "What if I were to tell you that one of the students says that you forced her to perform an act of oral sex on you," Helen said, pushing her glasses up over the bridge of her nose as she read from her laptop screen, her eyes scanning his face. "Oral sex?" he laughed, "I should be so lucky. That's completely preposterous. A fantasy. I'm the deputy head, one of the most respected members of the staff. Why would I risk my reputation with some silly girl? Really, you can't take the word of one girl. It's just so utterly unbelievable." "So you're saying she's lying? Why would she do that?" Helen wouldn't have liked to play poker with Wicklow. She was sure that Holly had been telling her the truth but when she looked into his cool, grey eyes as he considered his answer she saw no sign of doubt. "Well you know how it is," he said smoothly. "You're an experienced teacher. An attractive one too, if I may say so. Haven't you ever had a boy develop a crush on you? Perhaps fantasize about you, hmm? "I've never had one accuse me of sexually harassing him," Helen said coolly. "You know these girls are a long way from home, a long way from their boyfriends. They sometimes fixate on authority figures. It's not unusual for them to exaggerate or make up stories under these circumstances, you know." "Perhaps it's not unusual for teachers to take advantage of girls in those circumstances either." "Perhaps, perhaps" he said angrily. "Perhaps she had a grudge against me, perhaps she's making it up, have you considered that Ms Feldman? Hmm?" "That's possible but she did seem very plausible. Maybe she's exaggerating a more minor incident. Are you sure nothing happened at all?" "Ms Feldman, it's a serious accusation but I assure you it has no basis in reality. Now I'd like to help you clear up this, um, misunderstanding, but insulting me won't help." "I'm not trying to insult you, I'm just here to report the facts as I find them Mr Wicklow. I'll certainly make a note of your comments though." "You do that. You know I'd be very surprised if the headmaster took the word of an impressionable young girl over the word of one of his most respected and experienced teachers", he said, a tight smile forming on his mouth as he got up from his chair abruptly. "Now if you'll excuse me I've got a class to teach. Good day, Ms Feldman." Helen had barely finished making notes about her meeting with Wicklow when the next girl arrived. "Now then, it's Vicky, isn't it?" Helen said as the girl sat down in front of her desk. "Yes Miss," the girl said. She'd been looking forward to interviewing Vicky and the girl looked just as she'd imagined. She was pretty with long curly chestnut-brown hair, pouty lips and sultry brown eyes. She had the kind of trim yet curvy figure that would turn any man's head. The top three buttons of her blouse were undone revealing a hint of her lacy bra. Helen watched as Vicky tucked her shapely legs neatly beneath her chair. Helen had repeated her opening statement about confidentiality and anonymity so many times she could recite it by heart. When she asked if Vicky understood she simply said "Yes, Miss." "So I'm just going to ask you a few questions and anything you tell me stays in this room. Alright? So this is an investigation into teachers and students abusing the disciplinary system. Now, firstly, have any of the teachers here ever made sexual advances towards you?" "No, Miss." "No? OK, have any of them ever touched you inappropriately. Or maybe coerced you into doing something you didn't really want to do?" "No Miss," the girl repeated. "No?" she repeated as she glanced at her notes. "What were you doing last Saturday morning?" "I was helping Mr Lean collect supplies from the stockroom, Miss." Was that a flicker of doubt in Vicky's eyes? "I see. You and Mr Lean didn't get up to anything inappropriate, did you?" "No Miss. I'm not sure what you mean." Helen paused as she picked up a piece of paper from the desk, her green eyes skimming over the content. "Other girls I've spoken to say they heard odd noises coming from the store room. Apparently, it sounded like "grunting and groaning". Do you know anything about that?" "No Miss, I didn't hear anything." "I see. And I'm also told that when you left the store room, both you and Mr Lean looked flushed and your blouse was torn." "Well it was very warm down there and I caught my blouse on a sharp edge," she said, avoiding Helen's hawk-like eyes. "A sharp edge? I see. And I'm also told that you were also overheard talking about the size of Mr Lean's 'manhood' in the showers. Is that right?" "I don't remember saying anything like that Miss," the girl said, sliding her fingers through her glossy hair and twisting a stray curl around her finger. "I see," Helen said. She decided to change tack. She opened a beige folder and withdrew a thick sheaf of paper. "I've been looking at your file. I see you were expelled from your last school after a boy was found in your room." "I wasn't expelled. I was asked to leave," she said, petulantly. "And the school before that. You were expelled, sorry, you were 'asked to leave' because you kept missing the curfew. The last time you were arrested and cautioned for being drunk and disorderly outside a nightclub." "That was a long time ago Miss, I'm more mature now." "Yes well, even so, your mother must be short of patience. What'll happen if you get into trouble here? Maybe she'll give up on private education and send you to a state school." "I guess." "Take it from me, you wouldn't like state school, so let's not play any more games shall we Vicky? It's clear that something happened down there and it'll be quicker and easier for both of us if you come clean about it. So what happened? Mr Lean's one of the younger teachers, isn't he? I hear the girls here think he's quite good-looking. With your record I wouldn't be surprised if you seduced him." "It wasn't like that!" "No? Well that's how it looks to me. It looks like you lured him down to the storeroom and threw yourself at him. And that's how it'll look in my report to the headmaster. Unless you want to put your side of the story." Helen watched as the girl squirmed awkwardly in her chair, twisting the strand of hair tighter and tighter around her finger till the tip turned white. "He won't get into trouble will he? Mr Lean, I mean," she said, finally. "Mr Lean's a big boy," Helen said, resisting the temptation to point out that Vicky must already know that. "He can look after himself. Right now, you should be worrying about your future. If he seduced you, you've nothing to worry about." Vicky nodded as she stared at her feet. "Now why don't you tell me what happened from the beginning? With as much detail as you can remember please," she said, smiling reassuringly as she picked up her pen. "Well Miss, it all started when Mr Lean insisted that I go down to the storeroom with him. I could tell he fancied me..." ---------------------- Wednesday, 20 November ---------------------- David sighed and rolled over, his bleary eyes seeking the little alarm clock on his bedside table. The glowing green figures hovered in the darkness: 2:15am. He tugged the duvet up to his chin, aware that he was still only half-way through this seemingly endless, restless night. He just couldn't get to sleep and kept worrying that Vicky had said something to Helen Feldman. He knew she'd had her interview the day before and he couldn't help feeling that she'd been acting differently in class. She'd normally been keen to contribute, but she'd been very quiet, her head down, staring at her books. He tried to catch her eye a few times but she kept looking away, as if thinking about something else. Now here he was, twisting and turning, still struggling to find a comfortable position. The same thoughts kept going round and round in his head: what if she had said something? Might she have confessed everything? If she had, how much trouble was he in? Well, he'd soon find out. Helen had asked him to come to her room tomorrow to talk about some 'irregularities'. She'd been waiting outside his class today and had asked him to come over after dinner, around eight o'clock, which seemed odd in itself. Why so late? Was that significant? Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, the questions remaining unanswered. Vicky was also having trouble sleeping. She lay awake listening to the icy fingers of rain drumming against the window. She sobbed quietly; trying not to wake Faith as questions crowded her mind. Had she done the right thing? Ms Feldman had made it sound like she had no choice, and that might have been the case but she still felt like she'd betrayed Mr Lean. How could she ever look him in the eye again? What would happen to him? She was just drifting off to sleep when she heard soft footsteps padding across the carpet then felt a warm body easing the duvet behind her. "Faith," she said, drowsily. "Is that you?" "Yes, I can't sleep, it's too cold. Do you mind if I stay here a few minutes so I can warm up?" Faith whispered. "As long as you're quiet," Vicky murmured as she felt the one of Faith's arms slide under the pillow and the other wrap around her trim waist, their warm bodies spooning together. "Are you OK? I thought I heard you sobbing earlier." "It's nothing. Just some trouble with a, um, friend." "Oh, you mean, like, boyfriend trouble?" Faith asked, her warm breath tickling Vicky's ear "Sort of," Vicky said, resisting the temptation to tell yet another person about her and Mr Lean's tryst. "Come on, you can tell me." "No, I really shouldn't, it's quite sensitive." "Well, whoever he is, I'm sure he's not worth all that worrying," Faith whispered, her hand gently stroking Vicky's stomach beneath her thin, white shift. Faith's body pressing against her made her feel warm and relaxed. A soft sigh escaped Vicky's mouth as the hand brushed the bottom of her full breasts. Was that an accident or on purpose? "What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?" Vicky asked. "No. To be honest I'm not into boys that much." "Not into boys? Oh, you mean..." Vicky said, as she felt the girl's hand cupping one of her boobs, gently testing its weight against her palm. "Yes, I like girls. I expect you guessed," Faith said, her thumb exploring the soft curves and lightly stroking the little dimple where Vicky's nipple pressed against her nightgown. "Oh! But I'm not a, um," Vicky began, reluctant to use the L-word. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just not me. I like boys, you see." "Shhh, just relax," Faith breathed. "Really, I'm not sure," Vicky said, shivering as she felt Faith's moist lips brush against the sensitive skin of her neck. "Just relax; I'm just trying to warm us up a little." "I don't think..." "Listen if you're having boy trouble I promise I can make you feel better. If you'll let me. Just relax," Faith insisted, running her hand over the soft, feminine curves of Vicky's hips and slowly easing the hem of her gown up over her smooth thighs. "I'm not sure," Vicky repeated, unable to deny the lovely warm sensations that were spreading through her young body as Faith's hand stroked her bare thighs. "Please, I don't think we should be doing this," she said, but lifted her hips and helped Faith tug her gown up over her body. She sat up briefly to allow the girl to ease it over her head, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. Faith threw it aside, then slid her arms around the brunette pulling her back into the warmth of her tight embrace. "Ooh," she groaned as Faith eased her brunette tresses to one side and kissed the exposed skin of her neck. At the same time, she slid the duvet down exposing Vicky's boobs. The globes glowed palely in a thin, silvery sliver of moonlight that slipped through a gap in the curtains. Faith's hands cupped Vicky's naked breasts, gently squeezing and fondling them, her fingers brushing the naked skin, exploring the generous curves. A shiver of arousal ran through the brunette as she felt Faith's soft fingers toying with her nipples, the little buds coming alive beneath her fingertips. "Yes," she moaned as the girl squeezed one of the tight, hard nipples between her thumb and forefinger, gently tugging it, causing fiery tingles to race through Vicky's warm flesh. The brunette squirmed and wriggled happily as she felt one of the blonde's hands slide between her thighs, gliding up and down her inner thighs. It felt so good. She couldn't help opening her legs a little, encouraging the girl to explore further. They shifted position now, Vicky rolling over onto her back, Faith stretched alongside her, one hand wrapped around her shoulder still squeezing one of her boobs whilst the other gently stroked her pussy through the tight, white cotton of her panties. "So good," Vicky gasped, her eyes half-open, as she watched the girl's velvety lips leave a trail of wet kisses down over her shoulder then the subtle slope of her breasts. She arched her back, released a long, low sigh of pleasure as she watched Faith's cat-like tongue flick out and lap at her rock-hard nipple. Then the girl's eager lips were closing around it, teasing and sucking the tender flesh as Vicky writhed on the bed. Whilst Faith's hot lips sucked at her puckered nipples, her hand continued to slide up and down between her legs, feeling the little damp patch growing in her knickers. Vicky spread her legs wide, savouring the exquisite sensations as the girl's deft fingers examined the moist contours of her pussy lips. She caught her breath as she felt the girl slip a finger beneath her tight panties, tracing the edge and gently exploring the nakedness beneath. Her body was on fire now, demanding more and more, her head rolling from side to side. She lifted her hips when she felt Faith's hand sliding her panties over her hips, helping her slide the little tangle of white down over her thighs, then impatiently kicking them off her long legs. "You're so lovely and wet, you're making me wet too," Faith whispered, using the flats of her fingers to describe lazy circles on Vicky's moist folds. Vicky watched as the girl licked her index finger then lightly brushed it back and forth over her throbbing clit. Vicky sighed, closing her eyes and lying back against the pillow, surrendering to the delicious sensations. As busy fingers continued to pleasure her pussy, she felt Faith's soft lips kissing her shoulders, her neck, her face, her lips. The tongues entwined, as Vicky opened her mouth to moan. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 04 Winter Sunshine (2) --------------------- Thursday, 21 November --------------------- David looked around Helen's room while he waited. It was similar to his suite: a large old-fashioned study with a large desk, chairs and a large bookcase all made of sturdy-looking oak. Her desk was very organised: the papers neatly stacked and the pens uniformly lined up along one edge. He assumed the rooms would be like his with the bedroom and adjoining bathroom behind the closed door to his left. Outside in the darkness of the frosty night, he could hear the distant sound of girls voices hurrying towards the canteen for their dinner. "Mr Lean, thanks for joining me," Helen said eventually, looking up from her papers. "No problem," he replied. He listened politely as she explained what the investigation was about and how any allegations made would be treated as being confidential. "Is that clear?" she said, in conclusion. "Yes, perfectly." "Okay, well let's get right to it shall we? Mr Lean, have you ever had any kind of sexual contact with any of your students." "No, of course not," he said. "Are you sure? You've never said anything suggestive or touched them at all? Never been tempted?" "Absolutely not," he said. Had Vicky said something? He examined Helen's cool mint-green eyes behind her thick, black-framed glasses but they were unreadable. "So what were you doing last Saturday morning?" she asked, glancing down at the papers in front of her. "Last Saturday? I was collecting stock from the store room with young Vicky." "I see, Vicky, yes. I interviewed her the other day. She's an attractive girl, isn't she?" David shrugged, as if he hadn't noticed. "So did anything happen between you and Vicky?" "No, well nothing inappropriate, if that's what you you're getting at." "Are you sure? Because several students said they heard some odd grunting and groaning coming from that room." "Well it was quite hard work; there was a lot of going up and down step ladders and so on." "Uh huh. And I also hear that Vicky's blouse was ripped." "Yes, well, she caught it on a sharp edge." "Yes, a sharp edge. That's funny, that's exactly what she said," Helen said, looking up at him. "At least that's what she said at first, before she told me what really happened." David tried to look cool as he felt a cold shiver pass through him, his mouth suddenly dry, his palms sweaty. "I have her statement right here," Helen said, a thin smile forming on her crimson lips as she held up the report. "She's lying if she suggested anything funny went on," David blurted out. "Now why would she do a thing like that?" Helen said, sceptically. "I don't know, maybe I've upset her. Maybe she's got a crush on me." "A crush?" "Come on Helen," he said, flashing her what he hoped was a confident smile. "You know how it is, these girls are a long way from home. They can become attached to you, develop crushes, you know." "I'd prefer it if you called me Ms Feldman," Helen said icily. "Yes, of course, I didn't mean to cause any offence," he said defensively, watching the lazy sway of her hips as she got up and walked around to his side of the desk, leaning back against its polished surface. She had lovely legs. He couldn't help wondering if the black nylons under her fitting, graphite-grey skirt were tights or stockings. "Like what you see?" she said, looking down at him. "Sorry?" "You're staring at my legs, Mr Lean, do you like what you see?" "Sorry, I mean yes, they're very nice." "Very nice, hmm? I think it's so important to be honest with each other, don't you think?" "Um, yes, Ms Feldman." "That's a nasty-looking red mark on your neck," she said, leaning forward a little and peering over the rims of her glasses. "Oh yes, it's an, um, insect bite." "An insect bite? In November? How unfortunate." David swallowed and anxiously tugged at the collar of his pale blue shirt as she stared. "You know it looks more like a love-bite. Why don't you unbutton your shirt so we can make sure?" "Excuse me?" "I think you heard me, Mr Lean. Unbutton your shirt," she repeated sternly, as if she was scolding a reluctant schoolboy. He watched her heels sink into the carpet as she walked around behind him. Helen reached out towards the door and twisted the key in the lock. She smiled to herself as she turned back around, watching as his fingers fumbled nervously with the buttons of his shirt. This was going to be easier than she'd thought. "Now let's have a closer look at this so-called 'insect bite'," she said, running a hand through his short, brown hair. He caught his breath and winced, but didn't resist as he felt her roughly tugging his head to one side. Her hand yanked the collar of his shirt, then he felt on her hot breath on his skin as she closely examined the livid red mark on the side of his neck. "Hmm, looks like a nasty little love bite to me. It's right where Vicky said it would be, now isn't that a coincidence?" she said. Up close to him, she could almost smell the fear and uncertainty, mixed in with the fresh, woody scent of his after-shave. "Well maybe, I uh, maybe I fooled around with her a little." "Fooled around a little? I think what you're trying to say, Mr Lean, is that you had sex with one of your students. You ripped her blouse open, threw her on a pile of mattresses and you fucked her, isn't that right?" Helen said, running his hands over his broad, square shoulders then down over his pleasingly firm chest. "No! I mean, wait a minute, if she said that I forced her..." David started. "I didn't say you'd forced her, just that you'd fucked her," Helen repeated. David swallowed anxiously, the subtle, flowery scent of her perfume filling his nostrils as he watched her slender fingers smoothed the blue cotton over his firm chest "Come now, in the end she told me everything, Mr Lean. And I mean everything, so you might as well be honest with me," Helen insisted, slowly unfastening the buttons one-by-one. "No," David said, shaking his head, unsure of what to say. "Come on, we both know what you did. She strikes me as being a bit of a prick tease so I don't really blame you. Is that what happened? Did she keep teasing and flirting until you couldn't take it any more?" Helen whispered, her lips next to his ear as she slid a hand beneath his shirt. She could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. "Well..." "And look, you've got a mole here, just below your left nipple, just where Vicky said it would be," she said, easing his shirt open. "She is a real tease, I mean, it wasn't my idea," David conceded. "So she was asking for it? That's what men like you always say, isn't it?" she teased. "No, I mean..." "You were just giving her what she really wanted, right? What she needed?" she insisted, making him shiver by kissing his neck, marking his skin with her lipstick. The crimson 'O' formed on his skin reminded her of a brand, a mark of ownership. It seemed to say "you belong to me now". "I couldn't help myself," he confessed, feeling her hand tugging at his hair again, his head pulled back till he was forced to stare at the ceiling. "You threw her on that pile of old mattresses and gave her what she deserved. A good, old-fashioned fucking," Helen continued, in her crisp English accent. "Maybe. Yes," he gasped, watching as her fingers deftly undid the remaining buttons, tugging his shirt wide open. "Well, you have been a bad boy, haven't you? A very bad boy. I hear the headmaster hired you himself. He's going to be very disappointed when he finds out. Very upset. I wonder what kind of reference he'll give you after you've been fired for gross misconduct." "Please! You can't tell him! I'll never work as a teacher again if this gets out." "That's right, you'll never work again. If I include her story in my report, that is," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, as she pressed against him, wrapping one arm around his neck. He watched her other hand slide over his stomach then over his trousers. Despite his predicament, he felt his cock stiffen at her touch. "Please, you don't have to report this, do you? What can I do? I'll do anything." "Anything, hmm? Well perhaps you could start by calling me 'Mistress'," she said, running her fingertips over the hard ridge forming in his trousers. "Yes Mistress." "Good boy. Well now Mr Lean, we're both grown-ups. I'm sure we can come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement," Helen said, as her sharp little teeth closed around his earlobe and her nimble fingers unfastened his belt. --- David lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was quite naked and shivered, although not because he was cold. He felt Helen tug his ankle towards the corner of her bed with surprising strength. He suppressed his natural desire to resist as she wrapped a bright green silk scarf around it, securing it to the wooden bedpost. "There," she said, straightening up and examining her work. He was just the type that she liked: lean and boyish, just a few strands of dark hair on his chest, his long, athletic limbs stretching towards the corners of her bed. A swimmers body. Inevitably, her eyes were drawn to his excitingly thick, semi-erect cock, nestling between his muscular thighs in a sparse triangle of pubic hair. Tied securely to the bed David could only wait patiently, his head propped up on some pillows, watching as she slowly undressed. Sliding out of her smart grey jacket and hanging it in the wardrobe. Slipping off her heels and unbuttoning her blouse. Unzipping her skirt and wriggling it over her rounded hips, then down over her long legs. He watched her carefully place her earrings and glasses on the bedside table and remove her hairclip. Her semi-naked body was quite different to the girls he saw in his class, with plenty of soft, womanly curves and plump, mature breasts. He felt his cock stiffen in anticipation as she climbed onto the bed, clad only in her silky black underwear and hold-up stockings. She looked very different without her glasses, and her darkly glossy hair spilling over her pale, smooth shoulders. "Now then, Mr Lean, I assume you want to keep your little indiscretion between you and me, rather than getting the headmaster involved, is that right?" she said, reaching behind her and unhooking her bra. "Yes," he said hoarsely, watching her shrug the bra from her shoulders and slide it off her slender arms. Her exposed boobs were gorgeously full with large chocolate brown aureole surrounding small, delicate nipples. "Do you like my boobs?" she said, as he stared at her beautifully rounded breasts. He nodded. "Why don't you have a closer look? Do you want to taste them, David?" she said, cupping one of them and offering it towards his mouth. "Yes," he moaned, as he kissed the warm, soft flesh. "Yes, what?" she replied, her long, fuchsia-coloured fingernails raking across his bare chest and pinching one of his nipples till he squealed girlishly. "Yes Mistress!" he whimpered. "Good boy, now as long as you keep me happy I'll keep your dirty little secret, understand?" she purred, running a hand down over his chest and feeling his lips caress the soft, plump flesh. She smiled contentedly as she traced circles over his lean stomach and stroked his warm thighs, watching his cock slowly coming to life. She slowly stroked his balls and ran her long fingernails along the inside of his thighs, feeling her arousal grow as his cock gradually straightened. "Mmm, yes," she moaned contentedly as he drew one of her nipples into the warm wetness of his mouth, his tongue gently teasing her till it stiffened, like his cock. "That's a lovely big cock you have," she purred, watching his hips twist and jerk as she drew an expensively-manicured fingernail along the taut, quivering flesh. "But if you want me to play with it you're going to have to make me cum first." There was a faint hiss of static as she eagerly slipped her black panties over her hips then down over her nylon legs. Helen tossed them aside as she carefully placed her knees on either side of his head, the sheer stockings a paler shade of black where they stretched over her knees. David, his limbs stretched to the four corners of the bed, could only watch and wait as her prominent pussy lips hovered above his mouth; they were pink and swollen, beneath a thin, neatly trimmed strip of dark hair. The distinctive, feminine smell of her arousal filled his nostrils. "Yes," she gasped as she felt his warm lips kissing her inner thighs, where the creamy flesh contrasted with her black stocking tops. She shivered with anticipation as his warm kisses inched closer to her wetness. "Now then, let's see your tongue," she said, her hand squeezing his jaw, forcing his mouth open. She smiled as she watched his long, snakelike tongue appear from between his lips. "Good boy. If you can make me cum you might get a reward," she promised, as his tongue gently began to lap at her puffy lips. God, it had been so long since she'd had a man lick her down there, over a month since her last session with Phil. A long time to go without sex, particularly as she liked to liked to play around with her boyfriend two or three times a week. After so long a dry spell, her body was loving the feel David's inquisitive tongue exploring her most intimate parts, shivering with little electric thrills of pleasure as he licked her pussy, sucking her swollen labia into his warm, wet mouth. She closed her eyes, sweeping her long hair back over her head as her body undulated, moving back and forth as he lapped at the juices spilling from her ripe, juicy cunt. "Ooh yes," she growled throatily, leaning forward, her hands gripping the wooden slats of the headboard as she rubbed herself against his face, feeling his tongue press against her vagina. She licked her fingers and gently began to play with her clit. Strumming her fingers back and forth her achingly sensitive bud as the delicious tingles spread through her whole body. She loved the feeling of riding a man's face like this. It wasn't just the physical pleasure of being able to be licked just where she needed to be licked, she thought, as she shifted her hips so that he licked her right there. "Oh God, right there, yes!" she panted. It was also the feeling of dominance, the power and the control that was such a strong aphrodisiac. Watching him trying so hard to satisfy her. It was just so deliciously decadent using poor David for such wicked pleasure. She spread her legs wide, slowly moving her hips back and forth, encouraging him to lick the full length of her sensitive slit. "Yes, that's it, right there," she groaned urgently licking her fingers and pinching one of her tight nipples, feeling the hot waves of pleasure surge through her. "Yes, yes, don't stop!" she panted, as she moved her hips faster and faster, the combination of David's tireless tongue and her long dry spell causing the sensual feelings to spiral dizzyingly. She ground her hot pussy against him desperately as she squeezed her aching nipples, using a wet fingertip to stimulate her clit, feeling herself losing control. "Don't stop, don't stop! Just there, yes, yes!" she cried, her voice a harsh whisper, her body as taut as a violin string, her heart thumping as she felt the waves of pleasure lifting her higher and higher. "Yes! Yes!" she squealed as a quick, hot orgasm surged through her, her legs spread wide, her chest heaving, as the fiery euphoria ripped through her, all the frustration and stress of the last few weeks evaporating in a single, perfect moment of sublime ecstasy. She rolled off him, in slow motion, her breathing gradually returning to normal, her body still tingling from head to toe. She reached into one of the bedside drawers and drew out a small, pink vibrator, about the size of a thick marker pen. In the long, pleasurable minutes that she'd been grinding herself against his face, his cock had become flaccid. "Mmm, let's see if we can't get our little friend nice and hard again," she said as she started to coax him back to full hardness. "Please," David moaned helplessly, his cock coming alive in her hands. "Mmm, good boy. What a lovely big cock you have," she said as she quickly stroked him back to full hardness. "I bet your little girlfriend Vicky loved it didn't she?" "Yes," David confessed. "It's so lovely and thick. I bet her little schoolgirl pussy felt nice and tight, didn't it?" she said, watching the frothy pre-cum spill over her fingers as she stroked his inflamed cock up and down in long, steady strokes from his swollen balls to his engorged glans. "Yes, very tight," he grunted, straining against his bonds as she started to stroke him faster. As she stroked him, she stroked herself with the same, steady rhythm, her free hand caressing the wet, velvety folds between her open thighs. She couldn't help herself. The thought of him energetically fucking Vicky in the cellar quickly made her become aroused again. She imagined the girl's helpless sobs as he plunged that lovely hard dick deep between her wide-open legs as she played with herself. Imagining their hot, young bodies twisting and grinding together in the semi-darkness of the cellar until she couldn't take it any more, changing position so that she was sitting astride his broad chest, facing his feet. She continued to stroke his cock as she bent forward and placed her pussy over his face, still glistening with her juices. "Now then Mr Lean, would you like to cum first or do you think I should?" she said, as she wriggled her hips provocatively, giving him the answer to her question. "I'd like you to cum first, Mistress," he said, as he watched her slide a hand between her hot thighs and spread her lips with her fingers exposing the wet, inner pinkness. "Good boy. You're an even better student than you are a teacher Mr Lean," she chuckled, twisting around and rewarding him with a cold smile as she spread her legs wide apart. "Did she squeal when you eased this gorgeous fat cock into her tight little pussy?" Helen gasped, feeling the tip of his tongue lapping at the warm honey coating her hot skin. With her thighs pressed against his face, David could only emit a muffled "Mmm". The feel of his lips vibrating against her cunt sending a delicious tingle of pleasure through her. As she rode his face, Helen picked up the vibrator, expertly flicking it on with her thumb. She ran it over the generous slope of her breast, making herself shiver by lightly running the tip over one of her tight, stubby nipples. She stayed like that for several minutes, enjoying the little ripples of sensual pleasure. She took her time, slowly rocking back and forth; after all, it wasn't like he was going anywhere. With his hands still firmly bound, he was forced to move at her pace. She reached behind and ran her fingers through his hair, drawing his head closer, encouraging him to explore the length of her wet slit from her perineum to her achingly sensitive clitoris. "Don't you dare cum without permission!" she warned, making him squirm by running her buzzing toy slowly up and down the full length of his throbbing shaft. She smiled as his cock jerked like it was being electrocuted. "I bet you gave her a good, hard fucking, didn't you, you naughty boy?" she panted, as she ran the toy over her hot thighs. Her needy clit was throbbing urgently, aching for some attention now. "Mmm, mmm!" David agreed, his tongue furiously lapping the sweet juices spilling from her slit and smearing his face. "Did you make her cum? I bet you did, I'm sure she loved it," she purred, making herself shudder with pleasure as she ran the vibrator over her clit. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 04 There was a muffled "Mmm" from between her thighs. "I bet she came like crazy, the horny little tart," Helen continued. She'd let go of his cock now, as she concentrated on her own pleasure, her body rocking back and forth, her boobs bobbing up and down, the bed springs creaking beneath them. "Just like you're going to make me cum," she panted, as she pinched one of her hard nipples, sending more hot sparks of pleasure through her body. Her hot body undulated, grinding up and down on his face as his tongue desperately lapped at the juices spilling from her. She squealed happily as she flicked the vibrator to its highest setting and stimulated her throbbing clit. "That's it! Don't stop! Make me cum, make me cum!" she insisted, her breathing shallow, as she ground her hips against his face feverishly and she moved the vibrator over her clit in tighter and tighter circles. "That's it! I'm cumming, I'm cumming," she shrieked as she came once more, her lungs and muscles burning, her head thrown back as, once again, the perfectly white light exploded behind her eyelids and her body soared upwards. --- When she'd returned to earth and she'd regained her breath, she opened her eyes and saw his still-hard prick bobbing expectantly in front of her. "Goodness Mr Lean, another scrummy orgasm! You know how to show a girl a good time! You are awfully good with that gorgeous tongue of yours," she said breathlessly, sliding off his face and hearing him panting heavily behind her. She grinned as she ran a soft fingertip along the impressive length, feeling his urgent heat. Should she allow him to cum? He had made her cum twice with that serpentine tongue of his, so perhaps he should get his reward. But of course, he'd have to beg her for his release. Plead with her. Beg for mercy. She switched the vibrator from low to high, the sound changing from a low drone to an angry mosquito-like buzz. She chuckled as she used it to lightly stimulate his balls, then slowly ran it up the length of his turgid shaft, feeling his body rock from side to side, his ankles straining against the tightly knotted scarves as he desperately tried to press his prick against her toy. She watched him closely as he became more and more aroused: his cock jerking, his eyes squeezed shut, his arms and legs straining against his bonds as his body rolled restlessly. "Please," he gasped feverishly. "Please what?" she replied coolly. "Please let me cum, mistress." "Do you think you deserve it?" "Please don't tease me, mistress." "Ah, but it's so much fun to tease you David," she laughed. She smiled, amusing herself by seeing how close she could bring him to the edge of release: moving the toy away as he neared the point of climax then back up to his cock when his breathing returned to normal, gently massaging the sensitive head till his cock throbbed and the cycle began again. Teasing him mercilessly, keeping him teetering right on the edge of his long-awaited climax as he begged for mercy. She looked at the bedside clock and wondered how much longer she could keep him on the verge of cumming. Ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? She didn't know for sure, but she did know it was going to be fun to find out. ------------------- Monday, 25 November ------------------- David stared despondently out of the pub window. It had just started to snow, the fat flakes caught in the icy wind and swirling around the unnaturally bright orange lights of the car park. The pub was unusually noisy tonight; it looked like there was some kind of darts tournament going on at the far end. He turned at the sound of a fresh wave of raucous, drunken laughter and watched as Wicklow returned from the bar. "Here you go," Wicklow said, placing another pint of bitter on the table in front of him with a thump, the thick, creamy head spilling over the edge of the glass, rolling down the side of the glass and soaking into the beer mat. "Thanks," David mumbled. "What on earth's the matter with you this evening? You haven't hardly said a word all night." "It's nothing," David said sullenly. "Nothing you can help with anyway." "Come on, you can tell me," Wicklow insisted. "It's that bloody Helen Feldman! Creeping around spying on us, poking her nose into everybody's business, it's not right!" David said, his gloominess suddenly turning to anger. "I know, I know. She's a real holier-than-thou type," Wicklow sympathized. "Yeah, what gives her the right to judge us? It's not like she's a saint, you know." "Yes, but you've got nothing to worry about, have you?" "Well..." David said, hesitatingly. "Come on, old man, what is it?" David looked up from his beer glass; Wicklow could tell he was wondering how much to tell him. "Come on, tell me. Just between you and me, hmm?" "Well, okay. Listen, I had a brief fling with one of my students. I mean, I know it's wrong, and I deeply regret it. It was just one of those things, you know," David said. "Is that all? Well it's not something I could condone but you're not the first to be tempted by one of the girls, and I'm sure you won't be the last," Wicklow said sympathetically. "Well somehow Ms Feldman found out and now she's threatening to tell the headmaster. I guess the girl must have told her." "Oh, what a tangled web we weave," Wicklow muttered. "Sorry?" "Oh nothing. So she hasn't told the head yet?" "No, she's using it to blackmail me. She says that unless I, you know, satisfy her, she'll include it in her report." "Satisfy her?" Wicklow exclaimed. "Yes, in the bedroom, you know," David said, his face reddening. "Oh, I see! I had no idea!" Wicklow exclaimed. "Yes, so I'm completely at her mercy. Even if I do keep her happy, there's no guarantee she won't tell the head anyway. I don't really trust her." "Yes, well that sounds like blackmail, very unpleasant. Have you considered telling the headmaster she's blackmailing you?" "Yes, but the thing is he'd want to know what she knew about me, so you see what a sticky situation I'm in." "Yes, of course. She's quite the hypocrite isn't she? Persecuting teachers who use their position to seduce schoolgirls but she's no better, she's doing exactly the same." "Exactly, but what can I do? My hands are tied," David said, his cheeks growing even redder as he realised how apt that phrase was. "Listen, when's your next, um, 'date' with the devious Ms Feldman?" "Tomorrow night, she's coming to my rooms after dinner, why?" "I've got an idea. Listen, here's what we'll do," Wicklow said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to an excited whisper. -------------------- Tuesday, 26 November -------------------- Helen sipped her red wine as she watched David take off his shoes and socks. It was surprisingly good and not unlike her: warm, fruity and full-bodied. "Good, now come here and take off your shirt," she said, pointing at a spot on the carpet just in front of her. She smiled and took another sip of wine as she watched his fingers fumble with the buttons of his navy shirt. She felt the slow smoulder of arousal as he tossed the shirt aside revealing the lean, hard lines of his bare chest. She leaned forward a little and crossed her stockinged legs, letting a black stiletto dangle from her jiggling foot as she watched him unzip his trousers. "Very nice, David," she purred as his trousers joined the rest of his clothes on the large olive green sofa beside her. David stood before her clad only in his white shorts as her eyes roamed over his body. A mixture of arousal and the chill air caused goose bumps to collect on his flesh. He waited obediently, resisting the urge to cover his nakedness whilst she ran her eyes over his semi-naked body from his muscular thighs to his pale blue eyes. "Hands behind your back," she ordered as she put her wine glass down and leaned forward, her icy green eyes sparking in the soft light. He groaned, feeling his cock stiffen as she ran her hands up over his bare thighs, her fingertips trailing over the thrillingly hard ridge in his shorts. "Good boy, already getting hard for me," she purred. "Now take them off." She watched coolly as he slid his thumbs beneath the waistband and started to push them off. "Slowly!" she ordered, as she relaxed back into the soft embrace of the sofa and picked up her wine glass. Helen unbuttoned her black dress and slid her hand inside as he inched his tight shorts over his hips. She gently cupped her breast as she watched him tease her, slowly sliding the waistband lower till his lovely thick cock sprung free, making her catch her breath. She smiled as she watched him toss the shorts onto the sofa and stood, hands limply by his sides, his prick jutting out. "Touch yourself," she ordered. She watched him wrap his fist around the solid column of flesh, slowly working it up and down, feeling the slow, steady burn of arousal as his eyes met hers, intense and unreadable. She crossed her legs, feeling a familiar warm moistness spreading between her thighs as she watched him, his eyes half-closed, mouth half-open as he stroked himself with obvious pleasure. Helen's nipples were tight and erect, pressing against her flimsy black bra. She clasped a nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it and feeling a delicious tingle of arousal as she watched him rubbing his hot, throbbing cock. Smiling thinly as he began to move faster, his hips rocking, the swollen head glistening with his juices. "That's enough, stop now," she said imperiously. "Enough! Hands behind your back!" she insisted, as he couldn't resist giving his erection, another couple of strokes, before reluctantly obeying her. "Don't make me ask you twice again, David. Perhaps you need to be reminded who's in charge here," she murmured, leaning back on the sofa as she kicked off her heels. She unfastened the rest of the buttons on her dress as she ran her foot up over his leg till it was stroking his bare thighs. David could only stand and wait as her nylon toes gently stroked his swollen balls. He closed his eyes and swayed unsteadily, his cock bobbing up and down. "Please," he whimpered as she ran her toe along the underside of his quivering cock, the black nylon tormenting his hardness. She tickled the sensitive spot underneath the swollen, purple head with her toe. Helen grinned as she watched his cock quiver. It would have been interesting to see if she could make him cum using just her feet. She pictured him kneeling on the floor, begging for release as she stroked his cock, squeezing it between her nylon feet. Already her leg was beginning to ache though, and besides the sight of his nakedness made her impatient to pursue her own pleasure. After all, he was here to satisfy her, not the other way around. "Now then, remind me what rule number one is," Helen said, enjoying the sight of him squirming as she toyed with his prick, flicking the thick, stubby head with her toes. "The lady always cums first," David croaked, unable to hide his disappointment. "That's right, so what are you waiting for? If you're hoping to have a happy ending tonight you'd better get on your knees and make yourself useful," she said sternly. As he reluctantly obeyed, Helen slid her black dress up over her legs revealing her creamy thighs, the flesh looking pale against the black stocking tops. She felt her excitement grow as he slid his hands over her thighs and grasped her tiny scarlet thong. "No! No hands, use your teeth," she insisted. She shivered with barely suppressed excitement as she felt his agile tongue and lips sucking and lapping around the edge of her tight thong before his teeth found a lacy edge. She put her wine down briefly and lifted her hips as he eased the little scrap of material over her hips and down over her long legs. A hot shiver of anticipation ran through her as he slowly kissed his way back up over her feet, her ankles, her legs, just as she'd taught him. His lips felt moist and warm against the bare skin above her stocking tops. She finished her wine and wriggled her hips till her bottom was perched on the edge of the sofa. Spreading her legs wide she clutched at his short hair, drawing his mouth between her hot thighs, and placing one foot on his back, the sharp heel sinking into his flesh. "Yes, that's good," she said huskily as she felt his tongue begin to lap at the juices already coating her puffy lips. Helen leaned back, propping her head on some cushions and savouring the delicious sensations as David skilfully pleasured the moist, pink folds. As he licked her towards another delicious orgasm, she closed her eyes and thought about all the ways she planned to torment him later in the bedroom. --- Outside, Wicklow puffed on a cigar, watching the smoke unfurl in the cold evening air and disappear into the darkness as he looked up at the light from David's study. He didn't smoke very often, in fact he'd been trying to give up but a friend had given him a box of Cuban cigars for Christmas, and they were just too good to give away. He drew the collar of his jacket tighter around his neck, trying to keep out the chill November air as he waited patiently, a thin smile forming on his lips as he watched. Eventually the light in the bedroom went on, illuminating the deep red curtains. He decided to give them another fifteen minutes; he'd only have one chance at this, and he needed to time it perfectly. --- Although it was a chilly evening, the sweat beaded on David's naked body as he twisted and thrashed on the bed, his arms pulling against the tight bonds. His thigh muscles ached and his chest heaved as he desperately jerked his thighs, his body straining for the sweet release of orgasm. Helen knelt beside him, watching him strain every muscle and sinew as he edged towards orgasm, his thick shaft sliding back and forth through the tight little ring formed by her thumb and forefinger. As she'd patiently explained to him, jerking him off was a tiring, wrist-aching business so if he wanted to cum he'd have to do most of the work himself. An evil grin formed on her scarlet lips as she watched and waited. Playing a little game with herself; how close could she let him get to orgasm before denying him? She watched closely, as he thrust faster and faster, his face flushed, his mouth open, his eyes screwed shut. "Please, please," he gasped, his voice a high-pitched plea for mercy, his buttocks lifting from the bed, his hips jerking frantically. Then he was groaning with disappointment, as once again Helen released her grip, letting his straining hardness slip through her fingers. "How many times must I tell you? You must ask permission before you cum," she said, picking up the little tube of lubricant and squirting a generous amount on her fingers. "Yes mistress, sorry mistress," he moaned. "May I cum now please?" "Do you think you deserve it? I mean, you've only made me cum once so far this evening, do you think that's enough?" she said, squirting some lube on the swollen head of his cock and watching a thick drop roll down his hard, inflamed shaft. "Please mistress, I really need to cum," he whined. "I mean it's an awfully messy business when you cum. All that thick, pearly spunk squirting over my nice clean fingers," Helen said, making him groan by spreading the lube up and down the length of his prick with her soft fingertips. Maybe she would actually let him cum this time. Then she might let him lick her to orgasm once more. Or maybe she'd fuck him; she pictured herself happily bouncing up and down on that lovely stiff cock, warning him not to cum before she did. Or maybe she'd play with her vibrator again, making him wait helplessly as she got herself off. It would be such a turn on to bring herself to a lovely orgasm as he was forced to watch and wait, hoping that she might give him a little relief afterwards. Making him groan and struggle by using her favourite dildo, sliding in deep into herself, whilst his thick cock bobbed in front of her, inches away, aching for her touch. So many possibilities, so little time. "Please let me, I'll lick your fingers clean," he gasped. "You certainly will. If I let you cum, you'll lick all that disgusting junk from my fingers, won't you?" "Yes mistress, gosh that feels so good," he said, feeling the muscles in his neck burn as he watched her wrap her slim fingers around his glistening shaft and slowly begin to stroke him up and down. She smiled as his cock, which had begun to droop, quickly sprung back to life beneath her wicked fingers. After a few strokes, he began to move is hips in time with her, his body desperate for the sweet release of orgasm. --- Wicklow anxiously fingered David's spare key in his pocket as he walked quietly down the hall. He looked at his watch again: half-past-nine. That should have given them enough time, he thought to himself as he looked up and down the corridor before pressing his ear against the door. It felt cold and at first, he couldn't hear much. Pressing his ear closer and closing his eyes he could just about make out the distant, muffled sounds of moaning and bedsprings creaking. He smiled as he inserted the key in the lock and slowly turned it, trying not to make any noise. He eased the door open and slipped into the room, smiling as he noticed the little heap of David's clothes on the sofa, topped with a tiny pair of red knickers. --- "That's it, if you want to cum you're going to have to work for it," Helen laughed, enjoying the sight of David's naked body straining and squirming beneath her. She held her hand still and watched as he dug his feet into the duvet, his muscular thighs and buttocks straining, driving his cock through the thrillingly tight embrace of her fingers as he panted urgently. "That's it, fuck my fingers," she teased. "I bet Vicky's pussy was as tight as this wasn't it? A nice, tight little schoolgirl pussy." "Yes, yes, please, please let me cum," he grunted, the bedsprings creaking as his whole body jerked up and down. As she watched him pump his cock desperately, she thought she heard something in the other room. Was that the door? She clamped her hand over his mouth, and closed her eyes. "Hello? David? Are you here?" came a voice from the study. It sounded like Wicklow! What the hell was he doing here? Helen leapt off the bed, pulling on David's white towelling dressing gown, and quickly tying a knot in the thick belt. She locked eyes with David and pressed her finger to her lips, telling him to be quiet as she pulled the duvet over him. "Mr Wicklow, what on earth are you doing snooping around David's study?" she asked, as she stepped through the door, smartly pulling it closed behind her. "Ms Feldman! Fancy meeting you here! Well I was looking for David. I knocked and then I noticed that the door was open so I just came in. Well I needn't ask you what you're doing here," he said, running his eyes over her body, lingering where the gown gaped open showing more than a hint of her ample cleavage. Helen tugged the dressing gown tighter around her as he ogled her breasts, uncomfortably aware that she was naked beneath. "Yes, I seem to have caught you in flagrante delicto, hmm?" he said, a mirthless smile forming on his thin lips. "Yes well, as you say, you've caught us at a bit of an awkward moment, so if you'll..." "I had no idea you were involved with young David." "Yes, well as I say..." "So is David joining us? Or perhaps he's a bit tied up at the moment?" Wicklow said, grinning mischievously. "I think you should go." "Well, well I had no idea you were so kinky Ms Feldman," he said, obviously enjoying her discomfort. "Listen Wicklow, you've had your fun so if you'll excuse us..." Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 04 "Do you think it's wise to be involved with someone you're supposed to be investigating, Ms Feldman?" he said, interrupting her. "I don't think I need to justify myself to you Mr Wicklow. It's not like either of us is married, we're not doing anything wrong." "Well I'm not sure the headmaster would be happy about this. Didn't he want someone impartial? I mean, how could he be sure that you're being objective about David?" "It's really none of your business. I really don't want to discuss this right now." "Yes, but you must admit that if it gets around that you're sleeping your way through the male staff..." "Sleeping my way through the male staff! How dare you! Mr Wicklow this really isn't any of your business, so if you'll please excuse us," Helen said, angrily pushing past him and opening the door to the corridor. "I'm just saying teaching is an incestuous business. You know how word gets around. It would be a shame for this to get out; you must know how fast this kind of tawdry gossip spreads," Wicklow said, staring at her boobs. David's dressing gown was quite baggy on her and as she talked, it had gaped open once more, exposing the impressive depth of her cleavage. "Listen, if you're trying to blackmail me you can forget it, I've done nothing wrong," Helen replied, clutching the gown tightly around her neck. "Blackmail? Such an ugly word. I'm just saying what if someone like the headmaster found out about you and David, he might get the wrong idea, mightn't he? For example, he might think you coerced David into your bedroom." "Get to the point, Wicklow. What do you want?" Helen sighed. "I'm just saying it's easy for people to misinterpret these things. For example, take that situation with Holly and me. A consensual situation like that could be misconstrued as something more sinister. Something inappropriate. I always think if you're not sure that's it's better to say nothing at all, don't you?" "You want me to leave her allegation out of my report, is that it?" "Maybe that's best for all of us, hmm? Sleeping dogs and all that." "I'll think about it, now please leave," she said, pulling the door fully open and smelling the cigar smoke on his clothes as he brushed past her. "Of course, you'll want to get back to, um, debriefing David. Unless you want me to stay and help out," Wicklow said, reaching out and playfully tugging at her belt as he passed. "Out!" Helen said, slapping his hand away then pushing him through the door and slamming it closed. She heard his laughter retreating down the hallway as she pulled the bolt closed. She fetched the key from the desk and locked it again; pulling stiffly on the handle to make sure that it was definitely closed this time, then heaved a huge sigh of relief as she leant back against the hard surface. She'd worry about what she was going to do about Wicklow in the morning but now she needed to think of a way of punishing David for not making sure the door was properly locked. He'd been very negligent and she started to think of all the different ways he could be taught a lesson. --------------------- Saturday, 30 November --------------------- Vicky woke up early because she needed the loo. When she got back to her room, she padded across to the window, opening the curtains a little, her hands clasping her silk dressing gown tightly around her in the frigid air. A strong wind had driven away the clouds overnight and the low winter sun shone weakly through the trees. It was still very cold though and she shivered as she eased the gown from her shoulders and slipped beneath the duvet, wrapping her cool body around Faith's. The blonde groaned, still half asleep not wanting to surrender to the daylight yet. Vicky lay in the semi-darkness enjoying the warmth of her body and wondering why it now seemed so normal to be sharing her bed with her roommate. Or was Faith her girlfriend now? She still couldn't bring herself to use that word, it seemed so odd. Would she ever get used to it? Was she a lesbian now? Or was this just a phase she was going through after all her recent problems with men? She was still attracted to men, well some men anyway. Did that make her bisexual? It was all so confusing. One thing was for sure: she couldn't deny the pure, carnal pleasure of the night before. She smiled at the hot, sudden memory of Faith's greedy lips and probing fingers making her cum again and again. Vicky propped herself up on one elbow and examined the girl who was both her roommate and lover. Faith's porcelain-blue eyes, thin pink lips, pale skin and fine blonde hair gave her a kind of sparse, fragile beauty. She ran a finger over the girl's chin tucking a strand of her straw-coloured hair behind her ear, and kissed the milky skin of her neck. Faith stretched contentedly like a cat on a sunny ledge, rolling onto her back, her lips curling into a contented smile as Vicky's moist lips caressed her smooth skin. "Morning cutie," she sighed contentedly as Vicky left a trail of kisses over her neck and shoulder, her touch as soft as the sound of the breeze rushing through the trees outside the window, her lips guided by Faith's contented sighs. They kissed; lightly at first, their moist lips barely touching then more passionately, their tongues entwining as they explored each other's mouths. As they kissed, Vicky ran her hands over the sleek lines of Faith's slim body. The girl was wearing a cute little vest top and pants set: both pink and decorated with small red hearts. Vicky could feel her small boyish breasts beneath the thin material. Her boobs felt so different, so trim and cute compared to her own, she found she was able to easily cup one in her hand. "Mmm, that's nice," Faith murmured as she felt Vicky's warm hand squeeze her breast, her thumb seeking the small dimple caused her nipple stretching the thin cotton. "So nice," she moaned as the brunette explored the sleek outline of her boobs, her fingers seeking and stimulating her quickly hardening nipples. She squirmed happily as Vicky ran her hands down over her body, her skin tingling as she felt the fingertips gliding over her bare stomach, her rounded thighs, her smooth legs. Her flesh tingled with hot anticipation as the girl traced light circles on her thighs, stroking the sensitive flesh sending hot shivers up and down her spine. "Please," she whispered, grasping Vicky's teasing hand and sliding it between her legs. "I've never done this before, I'm not sure what to do," Vicky said, as she felt her hand drawn between Faith's thighs. "Just pretend you're touching yourself," Faith murmured. Then she was groaning, arching her back as the girl began to stroke her right there, slowly caressing that spot, right at the very centre of her desire. Their eyes locked and Vicky watched as Faith's eyes lost focus then closed, her lips parting as she moaned contentedly. "Yes, yes," she panted, her thighs opening wide as Vicky's fingers explored the swollen creases of her pussy beneath her thin panties. She closed her eyes, savouring the delicious sensations caused by the girl's moist tongue and searching fingers. Vicky helped Faith wriggle her vest top up over her boobs. "Such lovely cute breasts," Vicky said, smiling at the sight of her Faith's small boobs, so different from hers. So boyish, and tipped with small dark red pink nipples. She couldn't resist planting a line of hot kisses over the pale skin before licking one of her nipples with her tongue, feeling it stiffen as she gently teased it. "Yes, so good," her girlfriend panted as Vicky drew a nipple into her wet mouth, gently squeezing it between her tongue and her upper lip till it was as hard as a cherry stone. The girl groaned and stretched and shivered as the brunette stimulated her tight nipples, her hand still steadily stroking her hungry pussy. Faith closed her eyes and stretched out her limbs towards the corners of the bed, savouring the delicious sensations. She recalled her favourite fantasy: that Vicky was her maid, ordered to wake her up by giving her a luscious orgasm every morning. She lifted her bottom from the bed and eased the waistband of her panties over her hips, impatiently pushing them over her thighs, then kicking them down over her legs, eager to feel Vicky's soft fingers against her nakedness. Vicky looked at her questioningly as she slid her hand between the girl's perfectly smooth, hairless thighs. "My ex-girlfriend taught me the art of shaving myself down there," Faith explained. "She told me that it makes the sensations more intense." Vicky smiled, she felt so different to David: smooth where he was hairy, soft and yielding where he was hard and impatient. And so wet now! She started stroking the girl's pussy again, her fingers spreading and exploring the warm, wet folds. Taking her time, lightly stroking the hard little pearl of her clit and toying with the tight, little entrance to her vagina, letting Faith's excited sobs guide her inexperienced fingers. "Please, kiss me down there," the girl moaned, as she gently pushed Vicky's head towards her stomach. "But I've never..." Vicky replied. "Please, just a little," Faith urged, her voice an urgent whisper. The brunette slid down the bed, kicking the duvet out of the way as Faith shifted position, spreading her thighs wide and tilting her hips, offering her sweet pussy up to Vicky. Unsure of what to do, she slowly kissed her way up over the girl's inner thighs, enjoying her feminine aroma. Devoid of any hair, Faith's sweet pussy seemed even more naked, her plump pink lips demanding Vicky's attention. She felt the girl's hand tangled in her hair, gently but insistently drawing her towards her warm, moist centre. "Please," Faith groaned, spreading her legs wide, and lifting her buttocks from the bed. She held her breath as she watched the brunette pause, then released it in a long, contented sigh of pure pleasure as she felt Vicky's long tongue running along the full, glistening length of her slit. "Oh God, Vicky, that's so good," she sighed, running a hand through the girl's glossy hair as she savoured the feeling of the girl lapping at the juices spilling from deep inside her. It was so exciting to have a new girlfriend lick her down there, somehow the same and yet so different to her last girlfriend. She took Vicky's hand, encouraging her to spread her wet lips, gasping with hot, sudden arousal as Vicky's tongue explored the juicy, pink inner flesh. It was so good; the thought that it was the first time that Vicky had tasted a girl increased her arousal and Faith could already feel the first stirrings of a delicious orgasm. Once again, she took Faith's hand and encouraged her to slowly ease a long, slim finger into her vagina, probing the tight little entrance. Slowly sliding it in and out as her inquisitive tongue teased and tormented her achingly sensitive clitoris. Faith lay back, her moist lips parted, her wet fingers toying with her hard, little nipples as Vicky probed and licked and sucked at the wet folds between her widely spread thighs. She moaned encouragingly as Vicky slowly but surely brought her hot body to boiling point. "Yes, yes, just like that, don't stop," she panted, her voice high-pitched and strained, her body yearning for delicious release as Vicky slipped a finger deep inside her right up to the knuckle and her tongue lapped hungrily at her swollen lips. "Please, please, don't stop," Faith begged, her whole body taut, her head pressed back against the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut, her hand to pressing against Vicky's head. Vicky, her head buried between the blonde's hot clenching thighs, eagerly flicked her tongue over faith's throbbing clit, as her finger plunged in and out of her well-lubricated vagina. "Yes, yes, oh God, you're gonna make me cum!" Faith cried desperately as the waves of pleasure swept over her, carrying her higher and higher, the feelings becoming more and more intense, until her body couldn't take any more. "Yes!" she squealed loudly, her body lifting off the bed, twisting and convulsing as the ecstasy surged through her, her chest heaving , her skin flushed hot pink. Vicky felt like she was riding a bucking bronco as Faith shook and rocked beneath her for what seemed like minutes. She held her tightly till the convulsions passed then slid up her body. Faith was limp and exhausted, but smiled happily as Vicky slid up over her spent body. She could taste herself as Vicky planted a kiss on her lips. "Oh my goodness! If that's the first time you've gone down on a girl, we're going to have an awful lot of fun," she said breathlessly. ------------------ Friday, 6 December ------------------ Helen carefully placed her glasses on the desk, closed her eyes then ran her thumb and forefinger along the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache starting to gather in the base of her skull, the result of spending most of her evening staring at the laptop screen as she finished typing up her notes. The headmaster had told her not to worry too much about hitting his deadline, but she'd been working on it for the last month and had decided that she wanted to get it out of the way tonight. She looked at the clock: half-past-eleven. It was getting late but she only had one last thing to do. She'd already deleted Vicky's account of her tryst with David in the store room. She'd become quite fond of him and she just couldn't go back on her promise. Now she highlighted Holly's account of the incident with Wicklow in the headmaster's office. She hit the 'delete' button then immediately changed her mind and restored the text. She shook her head and ran her hands through her long, corkscrew curls as she pondered her next move. She felt terrible deleting the girl's account but, on the other hand, she knew Wicklow could make things very difficult for her. If he told the head what he knew, her whole report might be dismissed as biased. She sat, staring at the ceiling for several long minutes, before finally reaching forward and angrily stabbing the delete key. Without the testimony of the two girls her report was very thin, just a collection of unsubstantiated gossip and rumours, but she simply couldn't risk Wicklow telling the head about her little affair so what choice did she have? She silently shook her head as she switched off her laptop and went to look for some aspirin. ------------------ Monday, 9 December ------------------ "Thanks for this," the headmaster said, as Helen took a seat opposite him. "I read it over the weekend." "No problem," Helen smiled. She couldn't help feeling a pang of disappointment in the pit of her stomach. If only that old pervert Wicklow hadn't blundered in on her and David! "And thanks again for joining us on such short notice; you've really helped us fill the gap left by Mr Sanders." "My pleasure. How is Mr Sanders, by the way?" "Ah, he's on the road to recovery, should be back here soon." "Well that's good to hear." "Now then, this report," he continued, holding up the pages. "I understand you talked to all our teachers and students." "Yes, that's right." "Yes, well it's certainly, um..." he said, pausing as he tried to think of the right word, "...comprehensive." "Is it what you'd expected?" Helen asked, trying not to appear too anxious. "Well to be quite honest I'd expected more in the way of bad news." "Really?" "Yes, well it's not that I have concerns about our teachers. Or our students. It's just that there have been so many rumours." "Yes, well, I did find that a lot of the girls had heard of some scandal but it always seemed to have happened to someone else. You know how schoolgirls gossip. But it was difficult to find anyone with first-hand accounts of abuse." "But you did find some..?" Helen paused as she tried to assemble the right form of words in her mind. She didn't want to blatantly lie to her employer but she couldn't incriminate David and Wicklow now. "I didn't come across any accounts that I felt certain enough about to include in my report. Making an accusation against somebody is a serious matter and I didn't feel that any of the accounts I heard were beyond reasonable doubt." "So it's fair to say you felt that what you were told fell into the unsubstantiated rumour category, is that right?" the headmaster asked, as he sipped his tea. Helen simply nodded, unwilling to implicate herself any further. "Well, as I say, thanks for compiling this, it's very reassuring to have someone come in from the outside and give us a clean bill of health. So will you be staying on till the end of term?" "Ah, I thought I might leave you in a couple of weeks. I wanted to go up to Edinburgh early. I need to find somewhere to live, especially given that Mr Sanders was on the mend. So if it's OK with you...?" "Yes, yes, of course, whatever's best for you, Helen. As I say we're all very grateful for what you've done here." After she'd left his office, the headmaster ran a hand through his sparse, greying hair as he watched the vapour rising from his cup of tea and catching the weak winter sunlight slanting through the window, the ribbons of steam slowly unwinding. He'd been surprised by the report. He'd fully expected allegations against some of the teachers; in his mind, the only question was how serious they'd be. He'd been certain there'd be something in there about Wicklow; there had been so many rumours about him over the years. What was that old saying? "No smoke without fire"? He'd already run through some scenarios in his head: sitting down with Wicklow and talking about it being time for him to move on, or maybe even consider early retirement. But there was nothing in there about Wicklow or anyone else and although he should have been pleased, he couldn't help worry that there was something else going on. On the other hand, perhaps it didn't matter what he believed, it's what you could prove that counted. And according to Helen, there wasn't really any conclusive proof. He stood up and walked over to the window. Outside, the trees were naked and bare. In the clump of old oak trees, some restless wood pigeons flapped around noisily. It was one of those beautifully blue, icily cold mornings. The weeks of rain had seemed to have come to an end, and it looked like Christmas was going to be dry and bright. He felt a sudden surge of optimism; he'd been worrying about the report for weeks but perhaps there really was nothing to worry about, perhaps everything was going to be all right. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 05 Reality Stings ------------------ Wednesday, 9 April ------------------ It was the kind of bright, airy spring day that felt warm when you were in the sunshine, but made you shiver if you were caught in the shadows, the cold, northerly breeze nipping at your ears and nose. Along the path that led down to the river the cherry trees were in full blossom looking like giant sticks of pink candy-floss. Vicky walked up the path back towards her maths class and contemplated exactly how much she hated Wednesdays. The day always started with double mathematics. Two and a half hours of maths with a short fifteen minute break in between. When she returned to her desk, she caught Macy, Fay and her other cronies glancing over at her and sniggering. Macy was the captain of the school netball team and a bit of a bully; a tall girl with long, dark chestnut hair who used her height and natural air of authority to intimidate the other girls. Her small, raison-like eyes glittered darkly as she stared at Vicky over her shoulder, her thin lips stretched into a mirthless grin. Fay, her room-mate and best friend sat next to her. She was smaller and chubbier, her tan skin, glittering black eyes and short, jet-black hair betraying her Asian heritage. When Lucy opened the top of her old-fashioned wooden desk to retrieve her books, she found the source of their amusement. Someone had scribbled a crude drawing of two naked girls kissing over the green cover of her workbook. Underneath, they'd scrawled some graffiti: "I'm a big, fat lezzer!", "Vicky (heart) Faith", "Vicky is a dirty dyke". The bitches! How had they found out? She was just about to get up and confront them when Mr Lean re-entered. "Right everyone, break over. Get your books out please." As Mr Lean resumed the lesson on partial differentiation, she started to tear off small scraps of paper from her pad. Scrunching them into tight, little balls felt good, it seemed to help relieve some of her stress. She waited patiently for Mr Lean to turn back towards the blackboard then launched one of the scrunched-up balls towards Macy's head. Missed! Annoyingly, it fell short but at least the teacher hadn't noticed. She tried again. This time her aim was better, the paper ball hitting the back of Macy's neck then bouncing off onto the floor. "Ow!" Macy cried, turning around. Vicky couldn't suppress a grin. "What's going on?" Mr Lean said, turning back towards the girls. "Somebody threw something at me Sir! Vicky Sir, she did it!" "All right, Vicky. Enough now." "Wasn't me Sir," Vicky said innocently. "Let's get on shall we?" Mr Lean said, giving her a look that fully conveyed his scepticism. Vicky tried to concentrate but after a few minutes had passed, she noticed Macy sliding a hand behind her back and, hidden from Mr Lean, making some very un-ladylike gestures with her middle finger. Vicky couldn't resist. She launched another ball of paper with a deft flick of her wrist, like it was a netball, and smiled as it described a perfect arc this time hitting the back of Macy's head then bouncing off in a very satisfying manner. "Ow! Sir! Tell her Sir!" Macy whined, as the girls around her giggled. "Vicky! That's enough! Any more of that and it's a detention, understood?" "Yes Sir, sorry Sir," Vicky simpered, flashing Macy a wicked grin as the teacher turned away. --- David stared out of the window as he waited for Wicklow to return from the bar. Now that the clocks had gone forward, it was still just about light when they got to the pub. Outside, he watched as the shadows lengthened and the setting sun painted the clouds marmalade orange. He was still thinking about his confrontation with Vicky earlier. He'd had a word with the headmaster on his way out tonight, told him his concerns about Vicky's behaviour, and the head had promised he'd call the girl's mother. Still, running to the headmaster every time he had a problem didn't seem like a proper solution. He was aware he still had a lot to learn. He was still honing his particular teaching style, still trying to learn from the more experienced teachers like Wicklow. "You look thoughtful," Wicklow said, setting two pints of bitter on the table. "Yes, there's a girl in my class who's being a bit disruptive. I've just been pondering the best course of action." "Well you know what I always say." "Yes, yes, I know, spare the rod, spoil the child. But I can't help wondering if there isn't a better way. I was talking to Annabel at lunch today..." "Ah, the saintly Miss Hunter. Let me guess: she thinks my methods are barbaric and I'm a brute, hmm?" "Well, let's just say that she does have a different point of view. She says that she hardly ever resorts to corporal punishment. She says she's able to sort out any issues by sitting down with her students and talking through their differences." "Yes, well we can't all be touchy-feely, and in touch with our emotions like our very own Mother Teresa. I mean, of course, we all try talking sense into the students, but that won't always work. Not with some of these girls. There has to be a last resort." "Hmm. Well of course there's always detention or sending the girls to the head." "Yes, that's all very well, but we can't all just offload our problems onto the head. He's a busy man. Do you think he wants an endless queue of girls outside his study?" "Well..." "Listen, I'm just saying that it's much better for everyone involved if you deal with these students yourself. In the long run, they'll respect you for it. I mean, look at me, it's not like I'm disciplining girls every day of the week, far from it. More often than not, just the threat of a spanking is enough to make them behave." "I suppose so," David said, taking a sip of his pint. "David, it's not like I'm some sadistic monster looking for excuses to punish these girls but sometimes that's the best way." "Yes, I know. It's just that resorting to physical punishment feels like failure." "You know you have to remember that these girls have their problems, they've often been expelled from more lenient schools. And our school is known for it's more strict regime. We're one of the few remaining schools to practice corporal punishment. The girls, their parents, the headmaster: they all expect us to enforce discipline this way. Oh yes, have no doubt, the girls know what to expect if they step out of line." David nodded but still looked unconvinced. "Listen, by all means try Miss Hunter's methods," Wicklow said, "but I think that you'll find a little spanking goes a long way." --- Lady Vanessa Amery poured a few drops of the expensive oil into the hot water of the bath, watching the lazy iridescent swirls and savouring the heady, floral scent. She turned off the taps and was just about the slip off her silk dressing gown when the 'phone started to ring. "Damn and blast" she muttered, "why does it always ring at the worst possible time?" She skipped out of the bathroom, her bare feet sinking into the thick carpet of the hallway. "Hello?" she said, picking up the receiver. "Ah yes, Lady Amery? Is that you?" "Ah headmaster, how nice to hear from you," she lied. Vanessa's heart sank. A call from the headmaster of Vicky's school could only mean one thing. Her wayward daughter was in trouble again. "Is now a good time to talk? I need to have a word about Vicky." "What's wrong? Has she been misbehaving again?" "Well one of her teachers did come to see me regarding her behaviour. Apparently, she's been quite disruptive in his class again. Not paying attention and distracting the other girls and so on." "Oh dear, I thought she'd improved lately." "Well we'd all hoped she'd turned a corner." "I see, well as you know she does have issues." "Well a lot of our students do, but it's not the first time we've had this conversation, Lady Amery. I mean, the school has tried to work with Vicky." "Indeed headmaster, I'm sure you've all been very patient. I can only apologise on her behalf." "I was thinking that perhaps it would be an idea for you to come down. I don't want to have to escalate this. Perhaps if we were to get together with Mr Lean, we could impress on her the gravity of the situation." "Well, I'm actually quite busy at the moment." There was a silence on the other end of the line. "I really do think it would be a good idea for you to come down. I mean, we don't want this to get to the stage where we need to talk about expulsion. Vicky was expelled from her last school wasn't she?" That was true, and the school before that. Vanessa couldn't bear the thought of having to look for yet another school for her tiresome daughter. "Well if you think it's that serious I suppose I could spare a day in the next couple of weeks." "Excellent. Actually, Saturday would be good for me, how about you?" "Just give me a second and I'll check my diary." Vanessa held her hand over the mouthpiece whilst she pondered. Actually, Vanessa knew she wasn't doing anything important. Perhaps it would be best just to get this over with. Perhaps she did need to have a serious word with her daughter and sort this out, once and for all. "Okay, Saturday it is," she said. "Perhaps you'd be good enough to send a car to pick me up from the station." --- Vanessa let out a low, contented moan as she slipped beneath the warm, scented water, easing herself back until just her face and tips of her breasts broke the steamy surface. She closed her eyes and let the hot water caress her body, all the little aches and pains fading away. Her mind returned to the headmaster's call. She was so annoyed with her daughter. It sounded like there was a real chance of her being expelled from the third school in as many years. Her daughter just didn't seem to understand how much time and money it took to send her to these exclusive schools. It hadn't always been like this; when she was younger she'd been a sweet, helpful girl but the sudden death of her father five years ago had seemed to hit her particularly hard. Vicky had never quite seemed to be able to come to terms with it and, yes, maybe she'd been a little at fault. Letting her get away with things because she was so unhappy. Should she have been more strict? Or maybe let her stay at home rather than sending her back to school? Had that made her feel rejected? Of course, Frank's death hadn't been a bed of roses for Vanessa either. At least he'd left her well provided for: the pension, the shares, the house in the country and this flat in Kensington. In fact, she was in a position where she never needed to work again. Although, in reality, she kept her three day a week job in marketing just so she felt she was needed, was making a contribution. Anyway, she didn't need to worry about her daughter till Saturday. Perhaps she could give it some serious thought on the train on the way down. Right now, the stress of the 'phone call had caused a tense tightness in her shoulders and she desperately needed to relax. She closed her eyes and slid beneath the water, blocking out the hum of the traffic and trying to empty her mind just like her meditation teacher had taught her. Just concentrating on her breathing. Slowly inhaling. Hold it. Count to five then slowly exhale. Slowly in again. Hold it. Count to six then slowly out. Repeating the mantra again and again, trying to go slower and slower each time until she felt the worries of the day spiral away into the darkness. After she'd bathed, she decided to have an early night. The bath had made her feel a lot less stressed but she still needed a little more relief. She switched off her mobile then turned out all of the lights, except the lamp on the bedside table. Vanessa lay face-down on the bed in her dressing gown with just the light from the laptop's screen glowing on her face. Propping her head on one hand, she tapped at the keyboard with the other, typing in the address of her favourite spanking website, then logging in with her user name: naughtylady67. She briefly wondered if any of the other 'naughty ladies' really were actually titled Ladies like her. Vanessa had fantasized about discipline for about as long as she could remember. She wasn't entirely sure why. She'd gone to quite a liberal school; the staff there would have been horrified by the thought of corporal punishment. Perhaps it was just the way she had been brought up. Her parents were very stiff and formal, not ones to share their emotions. They would have died of embarrassment if she'd ever talked about sex or relationships. For them, sex was exclusively for married couples behind closed doors, something to almost be ashamed of. When she was a teenager with raging hormones, they made her feel as if sexual feelings were somehow unnatural, and touching yourself 'down there' was the worst kind of sin. That's when Vanessa had started to fantasize about being punished for her naughtiness. She dreamt of older men; stern, faceless figures of authority discovering her playing with herself and punishing her for her sins. There was also something distinctly English about her fixation with corporal punishment. Owning up to your misbehaviour then being told to bend over to receive correction. Skirt up, knickers down. Trying to stifle your emotions, keep a stiff upper lip as the headmaster administered a short, sharp shock. Sometimes even the English flag reminded her of spanking; to her it resembled two angry red stripes on milky white flesh. Her fantasies of punishment and control weren't something she'd ever felt able to share with her husband, or any of her boyfriends before him. It just seemed too kinky, so it had remained her dirty little secret, tucked away in the dark corners of her mind. After her husband had died she'd discovered the internet. What an eye-opening experience that had been! So many people sharing her fantasies, so many pictures and stories and videos. All available anonymously; even on sites where she had to log in to she could just be 'naughtylady67'. Once logged in, she followed her usual routine, warming herself up by browsing through some of the pictures first. Today there was a new photo-set that caught her eye. A young woman in a French maid's outfit, bent over a desk, her black skirt pulled up over her thighs, her panties a little tangle of black around her ankles. Against a dark background her bare bottom glowed palely above her black stockings as she awaited her fate. In the foreground a shadowy male figure lurked, about to punish her for breaking the house rules. She ran a finger over her robe, lightly stroking her boobs beneath the thin silk as she perused the pictures, imagining how it would feel to be that girl but also wondering how the man would feel. Caught between administering her punishment and ravishing her helpless, young body. Her thoughts grew hotter and hotter, and before long she'd navigated to the on-line role-playing forum, by far her favourite part of this site. It didn't take her long to find one of the regulars willing to engage in a little on-line fun. naughtylady67: hi, any gentlemen out there up for a little role-playing? firmhand: ah, naughtylady67, long time, no spank! how are you? naughtylady67: very well, sorely in need of a little discipline tho' firmhand: well you've come to the right place, what did you have in mind? A little boss/secretary, or headmaster/schoolgirl? naughtylady67: I fancy a go at master/maid, is that good for you? firmhand: if it's good for you it's good for me! what is my gorgeous young maid wearing this evening? naughtylady67: ooh i think the classic outfit... naughtylady67: ...a black dress cut quite a low at the front, trimmed with white lace; knee-length skirt, cinched at the waist with a little white pinny; black hold-up stockings and heels firmhand: very nice, i'm sitting by the fire in a large leather armchair reading a book... firmhand: ...i'm wearing a burgundy smoking jacket over a white open-necked shirt naughtylady67: you look so relaxed sitting there! i approach you and ask: "is there anything i can get you sir?" firmhand: a drink please, my usual naughtylady67: your usual sir? i'm sorry, i'm not sure i remember... firmhand: (sighs loudly) a gin and tonic, plenty of ice naughtylady67: (eager to please) yes, of course , right away sir! naughtylady67: my heels click on the hardwood floor as i walk over to the drinks cabinet naughtylady67: i fix your drink and put it onto a small silver tray, which i place on the small reading table next to you firmhand: engrossed in my book, i reach out and lift the drink to my lips firmhand: damn it girl, this is warm, there's no ice in here! naughtylady67: sorry sir! i thought you said "no ice" firmhand: i said "plenty of ice", are you deliberately trying to annoy me? naughtylady67: no sir! let me try again... naughtylady67: I take the glass back over to the drinks cabinet and quickly add some ice cubes from a large silver bucket naughtylady67: here you are sir, gin and tonic, plenty of ice, i say as i rush back naughtylady67: as i approach you, arm outstretched, i stumble slightly in my high heels and a little of the drink spills over the side of the glass firmhand: damn it girl! you're so clumsy! naughtylady67: i'm so sorry! (i dab at the wet patch on your shirt with a white napkin) firmhand: alright, enough, enough! (i swat your hand away) naughtylady67: i'm so sorry sir, i can't begin to apologise enough firmhand: come and stand next to me girl firmhand: perhaps now would be a good time to talk about something else that's been concerning me naughtylady67: (i stand next to you, hands clasped behind my back) yes sir? firmhand: you remember when the vicar came over the other day? and you were on all fours cleaning out the fireplace? naughtylady67: yes, i remember... firmhand: well, as you bent over to sweep up the ash your skirt rode up over your stockings naughtylady67: (my hand flies up to my mouth) oh dear! did he see my stocking tops? firmhand: he saw more than that, young lady! it was perfectly clear to both of us that you weren't wearing any underwear! naughtylady67: (blushing furiously) oh sir, i do apologise! i'm so embarrassed! firmhand: yes, well, the poor man didn't know where to look. he damn near choked on his sherry! naughtylady67: I'm so sorry sir, my previous employer didn't allow me to wear them firmhand: i know, and i've told you before that here we consider underwear part of your uniform naughtylady67: yes sir firmhand: are you wearing knickers now? naughtylady67: um... yes... of course sir firmhand: good, well let's see then naughtylady67: now sir? firmhand: yes now. lift your skirt so i can check naughtylady67: (i reluctantly and slowly ease my skirt over my legs till you can see the dark stocking tops) naughtylady67: i should really be getting back to the kitchen sir, to help with the... firmhand: come along, quickly girl! naughtylady67: (I lift my skirt higher till you can see my pussy, it's quite naked with a neatly trimmed strip of dark hair) firmhand: (i reach out and slid my hand up over your long legs) aha! just as i thought, not only disobeying me but also lying about it naughtylady67: (blushing furiously) please Sir, don't firmhand: (I ignore you, sliding my hand over your stocking tops, i run my fingers lightly up and down the inside of your bare thighs) firmhand: are you incapable of following simple orders? naughtylady67: sorry sir firmhand: (still stroking you) whatever am i going to do with you, hmm? naughtylady67: (moaning a little as you stroke me) i'm sorry sir, i keep forgetting firmhand: (finally taking my hand away) what a wanton girl you are, walking around without anything on beneath your skirt! Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 05 naughtylady67: (I smooth my skirt back down over my thighs) yes sir, sorry sir firmhand: I've told you what happens to girls who refuse to follow my orders, haven't' i? naughtylady67: sir? firmhand: you have a good life her don't you, hmm? your own room, all your meals provided? and all i ask in return is that you remember to do as i ask, wear the appropriate uniform, put ice in my drink naughtylady67: yes sir firmhand: and when you don't do that i think it's only fair you're punished, don't you agree? naughtylady67: yes sir (i'm looking at my shoes, i can't meet your eyes) firmhand: good, now go over to my writing desk naughtylady67: yes sir Vanessa paused for a moment, she'd been caressing her boobs with one hand while she typed, her body already tingling in anticipation of what was to come. She changed position now, rolling onto her back and leaning back against a number of large, plump pillows. She unfastened her robe, sliding it off her smooth shoulders as she read firmhand's next sentence. Naked, she let a hand stray between her warm thighs, exploring the already slick geography of her pussy as she watched his incendiary words appear on her screen... firmhand: (i stand up and follow you over to the large mahogany desk) firmhand: now bend over the desk, girl naughtylady67: please sir, i don't want to (trembling as i realise what you have in mind) firmhand: come along, the sooner we start, the sooner we finish naughtylady67: please sir, i ought to be getting on with helping cook, I think I heard her... firmhand: (annoyed now) enough girl! get over that desk! naughtylady67: (i lean over the desk a little) firmhand: come on, right over naughtylady67: (i lean further over till my elbows are resting on the highly polished wood, aware of my skirt riding up over the backs of my thighs) firmhand: (enjoying the sight of your creamy thighs, contrasting with the black skirt and stockings) firmhand: now then, if you're nice and quiet i'll just give you six naughtylady67: (whimpers) yes sir, thank-you sir firmhand: now lift your skirt naughtylady67: (i slowly and reluctantly slide my black skirt up over my bottom) firmhand: (i feel my cock stir at the sight of your pert, peachy buttocks)... firmhand: now then girl, i think we both know you've been asking for this for some time (i say as i run my hand over your bare skin) naughtylady67: please sir, not too hard firmhand: i hope you're not telling me what to do firmhand: just for that, i'm going to make it hard, SPANK! naughtylady67: OW! (my buttocks sting! instinctively i try and stand up) firmhand: stay down girl, you're only making it worse for yourself (i place a hand between your shoulders pushing you back down firmly) firmhand: i raise my free hand, pause for a second then bring it down hard, SPANK! naughtylady67: OW! (i wail) firmhand: quiet girl, stop making such a fuss, SPANK! naughtylady67: OW! no more, please sir, i'll be good from now on! firmhand: keep your voice down! i told you that if you made a fuss, you'd make it worse, SPANK! naughtylady67: OW! no more, please sir! (i'm wailing almost hysterically now) firmhand: (i pause whilst you catch your breath, running my hand over your blushing bottom, feeling the heat from your skin...) firmhand: ...(i can't resist sliding my hand between your thighs) naughtylady67: sir? what are you doing? firmhand: you're wet, girl! naughtylady67: i'm sorry sir, i can't help it firmhand: all this fussing and complaining but really you're enjoying it, aren't you? (i start stroking your damp folds) naughtylady67: um, no sir (not sure what the best reply is but can't deny how turned on i am) firmhand: oh, i think you are, you dirty girl (continuing to stroke you) naughtylady67: please, you musn't... (i moan, my hips gyrating a little as you massage me) firmhand: what a wicked girl you are, tell me how much you like it (firmly tapping your ankles with my shoe, forcing you to spread your legs wider) naughtylady67: please, no... firmhand: tell me! (striking your buttocks smartly, before continuing to stroke you) naughtylady67: please sir, i can't help it (sobbing quietly) firmhand: louder! (my hand stings you buttocks again) naughtylady67: yes, i love it, don't stop (sobbing loudly) firmhand: whatever am i going to do with you? this is supposed to be a punishment! (gently exploring the hard, little pearl of your clit with my fingertip) naughtylady67: oh god, don't stop (very aroused now) firmhand: *is this ok? too fast, too slow? are you touching yourself?* naughtylady67: *this is perfect, i'm lying back on the bed, quite naked now, playing with myself, typing with one hand* firmhand: *me too, i'm stroking my cock up and down, it's very hard* naughtylady67: *wish i could see you :-) you're making me very wet, keep going!* firmhand: well clearly this spanking isn't working, perhaps i need to find another way of punishing you firmhand: (i reach down and unzip my fly) naughtylady67: sir? what are you doing? firmhand: i'll tell you what i'm doing, i'm going to give you what you deserve, a good, hard fucking... firmhand: ...but this is a punishment so you're not to enjoy it, not to come, understand? (i slip my cock from my trousers, i'm very erect) naughtylady67: i'm not sure i can help it sir (i twist around, and feel a hot flush of desire when i see your big dick swinging between your thighs) firmhand: don't come girl, or i'll spank you every evening for the rest of the week! now spread your legs wider girl! naughtylady67: please sir (panting with anticipation as i shuffle my feet apart) firmhand: (i slip my achingly hard cock between your sore buttocks) naughtylady67: (holding my breath, trembling with arousal now) firmhand: you're so wet (i press the swollen head against your swollen pussy lips) naughtylady67: i'm sorry sir firmhand: ahhh... so good... (i slowly ease my rock-hard dick into you, inch by throbbing inch) naughtylady67: oooh, yes, you're so big! (moaning loudly) firmhand: now remember... (i ease out of you, my cock slick with your juices) naughtylady67: yes, yes! (loving the feeling of you inside me!) firmhand: this is a punishment, you're not to come! (i thrust back in, right up to the hilt) naughtylady67: oh god! (feeling you deep inside me, filling me) firmhand: goodness girl, you're lovely and tight (i begin to thrust in and out, my stomach slapping against your bottom) naughtylady67: mmm, yes, yes! (moving my hips in time with yours) firmhand: quiet girl, you're such a slut! (i continue to thrust in and out, the rhythm slowly building) naughtylady67: i can't help it sir firmhand: such a wicked girl, this is long overdue! (loving the feel of your tight little pussy clinging to my shaft) naughtylady67: please... please don't stop sir firmhand: such a bad, wanton girl (slapping your rosy buttocks, as i thrust deep into you) naughtylady67: yes, yes (loving the feeling of being fucked like this) firmhand: you'd better not be enjoying this girl, remember i've ordered you not to come! (I'm panting loudly now, my heart thumping as i slowly build towards my climax) naughtylady67: please... please fuck me sir (i'm breathless now, my body aches for release) firmhand: uh, uh... (picking up speed, pounding you harder and harder, my balls slapping your thighs) naughtylady67: fuck me, fuck me! firmhand: (i grab a handful of your thick hair and tug your head back, and lean forward, my lips next to your ear) firmhand: you'd better not come, do you hear me? (thrusting faster and faster as my climax approaches) naughtylady67: i... i don't think i can help it sir (i gasp) firmhand: uh, uh... (I feel my balls tighten, my heart thumps..) naughtylady67: don't stop, please don't stop! please, please come inside me (i beg) firmhand: UH, UH... (so close...) naughtylady67: please, please... (me too!) firmhand: i'm coming, i'm coming! naughtylady67: yes! yes! jhk;kfgg Vanessa had just about managed to continue to type with a shaky right hand, as her left feverishly stroked her pussy, dancing over the swollen folds. Now, with her whole body as taut as a violin string, she just couldn't keep typing and used both hands to pleasure herself, quickly pushing herself over the edge, her hot naked body thrashing about on the bed as a fiery orgasm swept through her. Once the world had stopped spinning, she rolled over and checked the laptop's screen. It seemed her on-line partner had already recovered. firmhand: god, that was terrific, i came like crazy! it's quite a mess here! naughtylady67: me too ;-) firmhand: what a wicked girl you are :-) naughtylady67: i know, and i promised not to come as well! i'm such a naughty girl :-p firmhand: yes, i hadn't forgot, whatever am i going to do with you? naughtylady67: i'm such a bad, bad girl :-p firmhand: well, it seems you haven't learnt your lesson yet so i think another spanking is in order don't you? naughtylady67: yes sir, maybe i'll learn my lesson next time (but i wouldn't count on it!) firmhand: same time, same place, next week? naughtylady67: i'll be waiting... firmhand: alright, see you soon... naughtylady67: bye **session ended 23:57:34** ----------------------- Saturday, 12 April (AM) ----------------------- "Well now we're all here, let's get started shall we? Perhaps it would be helpful for me to go through some of the more recent reports from Vicky's teachers regarding her behaviour," the headmaster said, looking up briefly from Vicky's file. Vanessa looked around the room. It was an old-fashioned looking study, with sturdy-looking mahogany furniture and black-and-white pictures of the school adorning the plain walls. Her daughter Vicky sat on her left, chewing a fingernail and looking bored. Beyond her was Mr Lean whom she was meeting for the first time. If all of the teachers were as good-looking as him, it was no wonder Vicky was having trouble concentrating in class. He was tall and athletic with a pleasant, open face. Although maybe his thin lips and stern expression hinted at a darker side. And there was the headmaster of course. He looked greyer and older than when they'd last met. Perhaps it was the stress of having to deal with girls like Vicky. Vanessa sympathised. Part of the reason she'd sent her away was that she simply couldn't deal with the constant mood-swings and tantrums after her husband died. Simply got tired and fed up with arguing all the time. She'd figured that a dose of good, old-fashioned discipline might be good for her, and this was one of the few remaining schools that still practiced corporal punishment. Just that phrase 'corporal punishment' sent a little thrill of excitement through her. What would it be like to be properly spanked by a teacher like Mr Lean? What if the headmaster decided she was to blame for her daughter's misbehaviour? Perhaps he'd make Mr Lean punish her, force her to bend over the sturdy-looking desk in front of her and teach her a jolly good lesson? Imagine those strong-looking hands tugging her skirt up whilst her daughter looked on, horrified. She shook her head slightly and crossed her long legs, trying to stay focussed. It probably wasn't best to dwell on that now, the headmaster had spent a while detailing Vicky's many faults and was looking straight at her as he reached a conclusion. "So you can see, Lady Amery, Vicky has been quite a challenge for us this term but I think I'd like to hear your thoughts before we decide on the best way to take this forward." "Well, as I've said before, Vicky is a highly-strung girl who's been through an awful lot recently. After her father died she's had to change school several times and I think that disruption has caused a lot of her issues. But, at heart, I think she's an honest, intelligent, helpful girl. I mean, perhaps she's just fallen in with the wrong crowd here." "I see, have you anything to add Mr Lean?" David glanced over at the girl. They had something of a history recently, and although she'd betrayed him to the predatory Ms Feldman he didn't want to reopen old wounds now. "Well, headmaster, she has been acting out recently and I have had a lot of trouble getting her to sit quietly and get on with her work instead of disrupting the girls around her. But I think Lady Amery is right: she is basically an intelligent, thoughtful, respectful sort of girl and perhaps this is just a phase she's going through," he said. "I see, well Vicky, your mother has come a long way to defend you and I think that Mr Lean has been quite generous in his appraisal, have you got anything to say?" "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, if you give me another chance I promise I'll show my teachers and fellow students more respect in the future," Vicky said, staring at her shoes as she repeated the words that her mother had insisted she learn. "Well, as you know discipline is very important here a St Catherine's," the headmaster said, his chair creaking as he leant back and crossed his legs, "and ordinarily the next step for someone who's behaved so badly would be a two week suspension. However, in view of Mr Lean's and your mother's comments I'm prepared to be lenient this time. However, this is a final warning, if I see you in here again it will mean suspension, is that understood?" "Yes Sir, thank-you Sir," Vicky said as she nodded. Beside her, Vanessa let out a huge sigh of relief. ----------------------- Saturday, 12 April (PM) ----------------------- Vanessa paced up and down her hotel room, occasionally stopping to stare out of the window as if the uninspiring view of the hotel car park would help with her decision. Outside, the sun was setting behind some trees. Was what she'd planned really a good idea? It was true that she didn't have anything better to do this evening, other than have a few drinks at the hotel bar but still, was this the kind of thing that the mother of one of St Catherine's students should be doing? Or was she just a deluded middle-aged woman fantasizing about a teacher much younger than her? On the other hand, when would she have this opportunity again? A chance to live out her fantasy? And really, if anyone asked, all she was doing was being the polite and thankful parent. Yes, she reassured herself, that was all she was doing, just being polite towards a teacher who had gone out of his way to help. And if a situation developed after a couple of glasses of wine, well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. They were both grown-ups, after all. She turned and looked in the full-length mirror once more, examining her outfit. After much indecision, she'd decided on a white silk blouse, and an emerald green skirt over black stockings and heels. With her hair scraped back into a ponytail she thought it looked simple yet classy. Or did it look tarty, maybe a little desperate? Was she trying too hard? The above-the-knee skirt a little too short, showing a little too much leg? She'd left the top two buttons of her blouse unfastened, perhaps she should fasten the second? Was that being a little too provocative? Before she could change her mind about her clothes again, the phone rang. "Hello, this is reception. Your taxi's here." "OK, thanks." Well, too late to back out now. The bottles in the carrier bag clanked loudly as she swept them off the bed, then grabbed her handbag and headed for the door. --- "Well, as I say, Lady Amery this really is a very pleasant surprise," David said, as he took a sip of the red wine. He didn't know a lot about wine but he knew enough to know that the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on the coffee table and the white burgundy, currently chilling in his mini-fridge, were quite expensive. "Call me Vanessa, please." "Yes, Vanessa, of course, you're too kind, really." "Not at all Mr Lean, it's the least I could do, you really were terribly supportive this morning. Vicky hasn't always been this badly behaved you know, I think it all started when her father died, I'm not sure she really ever got over that. Or perhaps, it's more to do with the lack of an authority figure in her life. You know, I do try my best, but..." David took another sip of the spicy, fruity wine as she talked, feeling it slip down his throat and warm his stomach. It had been quite a surprise to find Lady Amery standing there, carrier bag in hand, when he opened the door. Up until then, it had looked like another unremarkable night of marking assignments and preparing for next week's lessons. Now here she was, sitting across from him on the sofa, confiding in him about her daughter. She crossed her legs and he couldn't help glancing down at them. They were long and shapely, clad in sheer black nylon, stretching from her black heels to her above-the-knee emerald green skirt. Although she was a little older than him she was certainly an attractive woman. There had been something bothering him about her clothes since she'd arrived and now he realised what it was: the white blouse, the green skirt, the stockings; it was as if Lady Amery was wearing a sort of grown-up version of the school uniform. Was that just coincidence? Or had she deliberately decided to dress like one of the schoolgirls? Whilst he'd been staring at her legs and pondering her choice of outfit, he became uncomfortably aware that she'd stopped talking and was looking at him expectantly. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he said. "I said 'shall we finish off the bottle?'" she repeated, topping up her own glass then leaning forward and emptying the rest into his glass. "Oh, um, yes, thanks, although maybe I should slow down a bit," he stammered, watching as she leant forward. She was wearing a necklace with a gold, heart-shaped pendant that swung back and forth, catching the light and drawing his attention. Her blouse gaped open, giving him a fine view of her full cleavage and a hint of white, lacy brassiere. She had lovely, full breasts: he couldn't help noticing as they bulged against her bra like a partially unwrapped present. "Nonsense, why not spoil yourself a little? I'm sure teaching my daughter and her friends are enough to make anyone want to drink! Besides it's Sunday tomorrow, we can both have a lie-in." "Yes, of course, it's just that I'm not used to it," he replied, as he wondered what she meant by "Both have a lie-in". Surely, she meant separately didn't she? "Perhaps that bottle of white has chilled now," she prompted. "Yes, of course, let me see," he said, getting to his feet. He couldn't resist sneaking a look at her tempting cleavage as he stepped behind the sofa. Vanessa smiled to herself as she watched him get to his feet a little unsteadily. A little alcohol, always made this sort of thing so much easier, and it looked like Mr Lean was already a little, well, relaxed. It was a fine balance of course. He had to be intoxicated enough to be open to the possibilities the night offered, but not too drunk to be able to perform his role. Judging by the way he'd stared at her legs earlier it seemed he certainly seemed interested in what she had to offer. She watched over her shoulder as he walked over to the little kitchen area, and bent over a little to extract the bottle from his fridge, his neat dark grey trousers clinging to firm, muscular buttocks. His suit fitted him well and that schoolteacher look gave him an air of authority. He had a good body, lean and athletic, and he was certainly attractive in that clean-cut, figure-of-authority kind of way that she always found so appealing. What would it be like to be a schoolgirl sitting here waiting to be spanked? Pretending to be horrified when, really, she couldn't wait to feel his firm hands forcing her to bend over his desk and lift her shorter-than-regulation skirt? Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 05 Or perhaps trying to persuade him to improve her grades. Please Sir, I'd do anything to get that "A". Fluttering her long eyelashes. Surely there's something I can do to persuade you? She crossed her legs trying to ease the lovely warm ache beginning to spread between her thighs. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of him opening the wine bottle with a loud 'plunk!' "Well once again, I must say how much I appreciated your support this morning," she said, as he put the bottle on the coffee table then sat down rather heavily at the other end of the small green sofa. "No, really, it's fine. As you say, Vicky's basically a good girl. I think all that talk of expulsion is way off the mark at this stage. I didn't think the head was really serious about that, I think he just wanted to make her understand how serious this could get unless she pulls her socks up." "Well, I think you're being too modest. I think you went out of your way to help us and I'm very grateful," she said, leaning forward and lightly tapping his knee. He looked down at her hand; she was wearing a number of expensive-looking gold rings, one of them sporting a huge diamond. Was she flirting with him? His mouth suddenly felt dry. "No really, it's my pleasure." "No, no, you're too kind. I mean, Vicky has been behaving badly and I feel partly responsible for that." "Oh no Lady Amery! I mean, Vanessa. She's eighteen, old enough to know right from wrong. You can't blame yourself." "Oh but I do. I've not been strict enough with her and I need to take some responsibility for that. That's why I sent her here; I thought that the tough disciplinary regime might help her, but I see now that I shouldn't have shifted my problems onto you. You can't be a substitute for good parenting. Do you mind if I ask you something?" "Of course not." "I know Vicky can be quite trying and I know you tried detention, but did you ever consider corporal punishment?" "I thought about it, in fact I discussed it with another teacher but I wasn't sure it would help in her case." "I see. It's just sometimes I think a short, sharp shock is what a girl needs. Or a woman for that matter," Vanessa said, uncrossing and crossing her legs again. Her skirt rode up her thigh a little, and one again David's eyes were drawn to her nylon thighs, a hint of dark stocking top showing beneath her green skirt. "Yes, that's certainly one of the school's founding principles." "Yes, well, I think you've been very reasonable. If I were you, I might feel that I'd want to take my anger out on someone in this situation." David was confused. Was she flirting with him? Was she saying she wanted Vicky spanked? He felt like she was playing a game with him, a very complicated game and that only she knew the rules. "You seem keen on discipline," he said, trying to find out where she was going with this. "Not keen exactly. It's just that I've always thought that it's very... effective. In the right circumstances, of course. Don't you agree?" "Well, of course, if it's needed. And I'm always ready to step up and perform my duty as a teacher. I mean, if a spanking's really needed." "That's very reassuring Mr Lean, I knew I could count on you to do the right thing. I do blame myself for Vicky's behaviour, you see. I can't help feeling I've been very negligent, I suppose you could say naughty," she placed her hand on his knee once more, and looked at him meaningfully. "Well, as I said, she has been a nuisance to me and the other teachers recently, and if you're saying you feel you're to blame for that and need to be chastised in some way..." David said. What was she saying here? Surely she wasn't saying she wanted to be spanked? Was she? "I suppose I'm saying that I have to take at least some responsibility for Vicky's behaviour and if you felt like you wanted to punish me, I would completely understand," Vanessa confessed, the words suddenly spilling out as her mouth went dry and her stomach lurched. Despite all of her fantasies and her on-line role-playing she'd never actually been spanked before. Now she was on the verge, she was starting to lose her nerve. What if it really hurt? Would the hard reality be as enjoyable as her fantasy? In the uncomfortable, tense silence that followed Vanessa watched his expression harden. It was a real Jekyll and Hyde moment: the grateful and friendly Mr Lean being replaced by the harsh, uncompromising schoolmaster. His eyes darkened, a thin smile etched on his lips as he looked down at her hand, still casually resting on his thigh. "Well I suppose you're right, you really have been negligent. Perhaps you do need some... correction." "Yes, I have," Vanessa said in a small voice, holding her breath as she watched him slowly reach forward, grab her wrist and tug it slowly but firmly towards him. Her heart thumped, knowing he was giving her a last chance to back out. "Very well then, let's have you over my lap, Vanessa," David said, trying to impersonate Wicklow's gruff tone of voice. She moved slowly, as if in a dream. Twisting around, her knees sinking into the rough green fabric, as he shifted into the middle. She slipped off her heels, then eased her body over his lap, her stomach resting on his thighs. She wriggled into position, aware of him staring at her bottom. "You know, on second thoughts I think you're right Vanessa, perhaps you are to blame for Vicky's atrocious behaviour," he said, smoothing the green material of her skirt over the curves of her derrière. "Yes, I'm sorry," Vanessa replied, several strands of her thick, chestnut hair had escaped her ponytail and she swept them back over her ear. "Sorry? Is that all you have to say, girl?" he snapped, bringing his hand down smartly on her backside, hard enough to signal that he was serious. "Ow!" Vanessa exclaimed in surprise. "I'm very sorry, I've been very careless." "You certainly have. For a start, you should always address me as 'Sir'," he said, bringing his hand down again and producing another dull slapping noise. "Ouch! Yes Sir, I'm very sorry Sir," she gasped, her hands clutching at the sofa's worn fabric. "So you should be girl. This is your first spanking isn't it?" he said. "Yes Sir," she said, feeling the warmth of his hand sliding down over her thighs and toying with the hem of her skirt. "Well then you may not have heard what we always say here: an over-the-skirt spanking isn't a proper spanking," he said as she felt him grasp her emerald green skirt and pull it up over her long legs. Vanessa raised her hips obediently, letting him tug the skirt higher till it was just a crumpled green band around her waist, feeling the cool air on her warm bottom. She held her breath, the room almost humming with sexual tension as he ran an eager hand over her sheer stockings and naked thighs. He'd only ever spanked one other girl before, Brianna, nearly a year ago. Vanessa's buttocks looked pale, framed by her black stocking tops and dark green skirt. They were rounder and fleshier than Brianna's and bisected by a tiny black thong. "What do we have here? You're aware that the school uniform code states girls must wear plain white cotton panties?" he said, making her shiver by running a finger along the thin gusset of her lacy underwear. "Yes Sir, sorry Sir." Vanessa whimpered a little as she felt his hand squeezing the plump flesh of her derrière. With her bottom stuck in the air, her skirt hitched up around her waist and her head pressed into the sofa's soft surface she'd never felt more vulnerable. Without any warning, David brought his rough hand down smartly on one of her soft, yielding buttocks producing a sharp, slapping sound that made her squeal loudly. Without the protection of her skirt, it made her skin sting hotly and instinctively she reached behind to try and shield the throbbing flesh. "Keep your hands to yourself," he growled, swatting her hand away. "Now stay still or you'll make it worse for yourself," he growled, bringing his hand down on her semi-naked buttocks three times in rapid succession. "Ow, Ow! OW!" she squealed, each squeal louder than the last. She felt her buttocks throb hotly under the sudden onslaught of blows. Suddenly, she was regretting wearing such tiny undies. "What a wicked, wicked girl, walking around school in this skimpy underwear," he said, gently stroking her between her thighs till she started to moan, then once again landing a series of sharp smacks on her buttocks. "Ow! No! Please!" Vanessa mewed, squirming uncomfortably as he spanked her mercilessly. "Oh! Unh! Ah!" she cried, rolling about in his lap and uttering a series of animal-like groans and grunts as he relentlessly brought his hand down on her cheeks again and again. "You know I always thought you were a good girl but now I see just how naughty you really are," he grunted as his fingers toyed with the damp black strip of lace that bisected her rosy buttocks. "I am a good girl!" Vanessa insisted as his fingers explored the sensitive folds of her pussy under the skimpy material. Perched across his lap, her buttocks aching, she fell easily into the role of naughty schoolgirl. He repeated the cycle several more times, a series of hard, stinging spanks followed by a few, sweet moments of bliss as he stroked her increasingly damp panties. The heady mixture of pleasure and pain leaving her shaking and breathless. Her eyes brimmed with warm tears. "Oh Sir, please," she groaned, spreading her legs a little as once again his teasing fingers found that sweet, aching spot between her legs. She could feel herself becoming awfully wet down there. "And very naughty girls need a bare-bottom spanking," he insisted, grabbing the waistband of her panties and quickly sliding the little scrap of black lace over her rosy buttocks. "No, please don't Sir!" Vanessa protested, but lifted her hips and let him slide her knickers down over her legs before tossing them aside. "Now then, you slutty little girl, let's give you a proper spanking," he said, raising a hand and delivering a flurry of short, sharp slaps, the blows alternating between her naked buttocks. "Ow Sir! No! Ouch!" she squealed, wriggling and squirming as her sensitive bottom throbbed painfully under the stinging barrage of blows that rained down. As she squirmed, she felt her bare pussy rubbing against the hard muscle of his thighs, creating a delicious friction that made her even more aroused. She tried reaching behind her to stop him but he simply wrapped his strong fingers around her slim wrist and folded her arm behind her back, using his elbow to push her down so that her face pressed against the sofa, her bottom stuck up in the air, fully exposed. "Yes, I hadn't realised quite what a horny, little slut you were, girl," he said, a little breathless as he slid a hand between her legs. Vanessa felt herself blush red. Without the flimsy defence of her knickers, it was obvious just how aroused she was. "Oh Sir!" she moaned, as she felt his fingers stroked her swollen folds. "You really are quite wet, aren't you?" he said, his fingers moving in slow circles, massaging her intimately as she shivered with desire. "Please Sir," she sighed. "Here: see how wet you are girl," he insisted, pressing his fingers against the plump, scarlet lips of her mouth. As her lips parted, she could taste her own shameful arousal. He slowly slid his fingers from her mouth, glistening with her saliva. "Yes," she groaned as he ran his glistening fingers along the length of her aching slit. Up and down, up and down, over and over again till she quivered with pleasure. Vanessa spread her legs wide, her thighs grinding up and down against his as she happily rode the waves of pleasure. "What a slutty girl you are," he insisted, making her jump by lightly slapping her labia. "Slutty girls like you need a good seeing-to," he grunted, his fingers smearing the juices flowing from her pussy along her slit. She held her breath as she felt him spreading the wet folds, letting it out with a long, low animal-like howl as she felt two of his well-lubricated fingers easily slip inside her inflamed lips. "Yes, yes, I need it," she groaned happily as he slid his thick fingers in and out of her wetness, starting slowly and quickly settling into a rhythm as she rocked back and forth on his lap. She wet her fingers, then slid a hand beneath her stomach and gently flicked her aching clitoris as his fingers explored the depths of her pussy. "You need a good fucking, don't you girl?" he said, using his free hand to slap her angry red buttocks. She was wriggling wildly in his lap now, impaled on his thick fingers, teasing her hard little clit as he continued to spank her sore buttocks. "Yes, yes! Please don't stop!" Vanessa cried breathlessly, his stern voice and teasing fingers making her hotter and hotter. She was moaning loudly and uncontrollably now, her body on fire, and rushing towards climax. She bucked against his body as he finger-fucked her harder and harder, her fingers strumming her deliciously sensitive clit as her breathing grew shallower, her cries more and more desperate, until finally she teetered on the edge. "Oh God, yes, yes!" she squealed as she came, a hot wave of ecstasy rushing through her as he delivered a final slap to her aching buttocks, his fingers plunging deep inside her. --- Eventually, Vanessa recovered from her climax and eased herself up from his lap, slowly sitting back on her heels, unable to look at David's face. She tugged her skirt back down as she noticed her panties lying on the floor, a little tangle of black against the beige carpet. "Now then Vanessa I think you enjoyed that a little too much, don't you?" David said, as he finished unbuttoning his pale blue shirt. "Yes Sir," she said, unable to stop staring at the large bulge in his trousers as her buttocks ached painfully. "I think you need to do something to make up for it, don't you? Now, get down on the floor," he said, as he unbuckled his leather belt. David leant back, hands behind his head as he watched Vanessa slither to the floor and run her hands up over his thighs, her fingers quickly finding the almost painfully hard bulge in his trousers. He lifted his hips as she unzipped his flies and eagerly wriggled his trousers over his hips. She tugged impatiently at the waistband of his shorts "Oh!" she gasped happily, as his large, meaty cock sprung free of his pants. "Heavens! What a lovely big cock you have Sir," she grinned as she grasped his semi-erect cock, feeling the thick veins throb and pulse. She felt her arousal start to grow again as she felt the warm flesh come alive under her fingers, straightening and thickening as she caressed him. She leaned forward and opened her mouth, letting her saliva dribble from her mouth onto his cock, then slowly stroked him up and down, till his hard shaft glistened wetly. How long had it been since she'd held a lovely, hard cock in her hands? It had been five long years since her husband died, and how she'd missed the feel of a thick, reassuringly solid cock gliding through her fingers. She relished David's contented moans as she stroked him to full hardness. David leant back, watching contentedly as her well-manicured hand slid up and down his erection and her free hand unbuttoned her blouse. After a few, very pleasurable minutes he leant forward, pulling her silk blouse off her shoulders to reveal her ample breasts encased in a lacy white bra. She kept stroking, hardly breaking rhythm as he roughly yanked at her bra till her gorgeously full breasts spilled out. "Now then, you'd better be a good girl and make me come or I'll have to administer another spanking," he said, groping her boobs. "Yes Sir," she simpered, making him gasp by running her thumb up over the satin smooth skin of his shaft then around the swollen, ultra-sensitive head. She looked up at him with her large, green eyes as he ran his hand over her thick hair and gently, but firmly, drew her head towards his thighs. "Oh God, yes," he sighed contentedly as he felt her warm, wet tongue sliding over his firm shaft, lapping him till he shivered with sheer, undiluted pleasure. Vanessa grinned as she swirled her cat-like tongue around the blunt head, tasting his salty pre-cum oozing from the tip. Was there anything in life more pleasurable than a blowjob? David wondered as he leant back, hands behind his head and savoured the sweet sensations. He watched as Vanessa slowly and expertly drew his prick into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him. "Yes," he sighed as he watched her scarlet lips slide down over his taut flesh, inch by throbbing inch. God, she was good! As he felt her draw him deep into her warm, silky mouth he felt her agile tongue licking him, lapping at the juices flowing from him. Her soft fingers tickled his perineum and stroked his balls, adding to his arousal. "Mmmm," Vanessa moaned, her head bobbing, her hungry lips sliding up and down more quickly now as he began to move his hips in time, the heat slowly building. He felt himself growing hotter and hotter, as he watched her plump boobs jiggling, the gold, heart-shaped pendant swinging backwards and forwards between them as she devoured his hardness. As his groans became more fevered and urgent, Vanessa replaced her sweet lip with her soft fingers. It had been so long since she'd done this and now she wanted to see him cum. She felt another rush of moist warmth between her thighs as she pictured herself confessing later on the website: I gave him a blowjob and let him cum all over my face. So disgusting, so degrading, yet so arousing. "Am I being a good girl, Sir?" she said, her red lips curling into a wicked smile as she lightly flicked her tongue over the swollen purple head, as she jerked him faster and faster. "Oh yes, you're good, you're very good," he gasped breathlessly, his hips rocking as she slid her fist up and down the full length of his straining cock. "I want to see you cum, Sir, cum all over my face," she said, her hand rubbing him harder and harder, watching his face twist, his eyes squeezed shut as he got closer and closer. "Keep going, keep going," he panted, "That's it, cum for me Sir, cum all over me," she said breathlessly as she stroked him quicker and quicker, her hand a blur now. "Oh, oh, unh!" he yelled, as with a final flurry of short, stabbing strokes she made him come, large gobs of his hot spunk shooting over her breasts. "That's it, cum for me Sir," she cooed, watching him twist and shudder as the climax ripped through him. She continued to slowly stroke him as he gasped for air, milking the last few drops of cum from his softening dick, watching it drip onto her skirt and stockings, the thick, sticky drops pearly white against the black background. ------------------- Wednesday, 16 April ------------------- naughtylady67: hi, anyone out there want to hear a little confession? firmhand: ah, naughtylady67, nice to hear from you again naughtylady67:ah mr firmhand! hope i haven't kept you waiting firmhand: well, you are a little late, but i'm sure we can think of a way to punish you for that! what have you been up to this week? naughtylady67: well, i may have been a little naughty firmhand: yes... naughtylady67: well, it wasn't my fault sir, i did try to be good, but... firmhand: yes, come on, out with it... naughtylady67: ...it all started when i was invited down to my daughter's school, she's been very bad recently and I was summoned down there by the headmaster and, well, it turned out her teacher was awfully good-looking... Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 06 ------------------- Wednesday, 30 April ------------------- The old mini rattled along the country lanes, past verdant hedgerows bursting with life in the early summer sunshine. Henry accelerated through the narrow lanes, his arms aching as he twisted the steering wheel left and right. Perhaps he'd overdone it at the gym this morning but he found he needed to work out every day to maintain his physique. He was simultaneously trying to steer, read the map he'd been given and track his location on his mobile. The map wasn't great, just a hand-drawn scrap of paper given to him by one of the more attractive girls at the agency. What was her name? Angela? He'd already been through Burfield, passed The Queens Head, and turned off by the Stag and Hounds. Was it a coincidence that most of the landmarks on the map were pubs? Perhaps he ought to invite Angela out for a drink sometime. He glanced at it again as the car swept around another corner into a lane only just wide enough for two cars: was that black splodge the reservoir or yet another pub? He should be nearly there now. So far, his career as a model wasn't turning out to be as glamorous as he'd hoped. He'd pictured himself hanging out at trendy wine-bars and modelling the latest fashions for GQ or Vogue but so far he'd only done a few meagrely paid jobs at conventions and catalogues that he'd fitted in around working at a local bar. Of all the jobs he'd done, this was easily the strangest. Still, a hundred quid cash-in-hand to stand around in a classroom for a couple of afternoons wasn't to be sniffed at for someone with his limited experience. "Ah, here we go," he muttered as he passed the sign saying "St Catherine's, 100 yards on the left". Macy stared out of the window at the new art teacher, Miss Brittan, who was pacing up and down the car park anxiously. She watched as the woman looked at her watch again, a number of brightly coloured bangles sliding up over her wrist. Macy had heard that the teacher had had difficulty finding an agency to supply them with a male model after what had happened last time. She really hoped he hadn't cancelled at the last minute. Miss Brittan was a tall woman with long, auburn tresses spilling over her shoulders. Despite her English-sounding name, she was actually half-French, her faint Gallic accent somehow making her both more exotic and authoritative. Today, she was resplendent in a vibrant, red-and-purple tie-dyed sun-dress that clung to the womanly curves of her shapely figure. Her sunny disposition, passion for art and bright clothing made her popular among the students, although Macy had heard that some of the older teachers found her a little too radical for their tastes. The gossip amongst the students was that she wasn't only passionate about art. Macy was reliably informed that Miss Brittan was having a torrid relationship with Mr Lean, the maths teacher, although there were so many rumours about affairs sometimes it was hard to tell what was real and what was fantasy at St Catherine's. "Looks like he's here," Macy said to her friend, Fay, as a red Mini roared into the car park, and a tall young man with an unruly mop of blonde hair got out. There was a tangible sense of barely suppressed excitement when Miss Brittan entered the classroom with the model, who she introduced as Henry. Usually at this time, the girls would still be slowly drifting in but today they were all here early, seated at their easels and chattering excitedly. "Well, this is weird," Henry thought to himself, as Miss Brittan fussed around him, posing him carefully as he reclined on the chaise longue. He wasn't naked of course, they'd both agreed that it was only proper that he should keep his underwear on, but under the intense gaze of all these teenage girls he certainly felt naked. Miss Brittan artfully draped over a white sheet over his torso, trying to create a more classic look by hiding his boxer shorts. In front of him, about a dozen schoolgirls sat at easels, pretending that having a half-naked man in front of them was an everyday occurrence. Some of them exchanging mischievous glances, half-smiles playing around their lips, some chewing the ends of their pencils thoughtfully as they began to sketch. Macy started to sketch the smooth curves of Henry's athletic body with broad, confident strokes of her pencil. He was very good-looking. Lean and toned, his muscles well-defined under his smooth, tanned skin, his fair hair unkempt as if he'd just rolled out of bed; but what she noticed most were his pale blue eyes, restlessly darting around the room. She felt her heart skip a beat as they met hers briefly. Behind her, Miss Brittan prowled, her restless eyes roaming over the girls, careful to stamp out any sign of giggling or flirting with young Henry. She had only been at the school for twelve months and the other teachers had warned her that the girls would need keeping an eye on. Mr Wicklow had raised an eyebrow when she told him about her plans to employ a life model. Apparently, the last time they'd tried it, the girls had "gone a bit mad" as he put it, which explained why the agencies were so reluctant to deal with them. So she was determined that this time, she'd keep control. She'd been very clear with the girls: any sign of fooling around and she'd step in and cancel the whole thing. Macy waited until Miss Brittan was at the far end of the room, before leaning over towards Fay. "Imagine waking up next to him!" she whispered. "I know, imagine if he was naked under that sheet!" "Oh Fay, you are rude. What a thought!" "Imagine him waking up next to you all naked and horny and ready for action, if you know what I mean," Fay gushed, her large dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're so dirty Fay! He's buff, isn't he? Look at that six pack." "I know, check out those chest muscles! It's like he's been photo-shopped! He's gorgeous, I wouldn't mind him dipping his brush in my paint," Fay whispered. Macy put her hand up to her mouth, trying to stifle her giggling. "I tell you what, he keeps staring at your legs," Fay continued. "Nonsense," Macy insisted, but she couldn't help feeling a little flutter of excitement as she glanced up at the model. "Honestly, he keeps looking when you turn away." Macy pretended to drop her pencil then leaned over to retrieve it. As she straightened up, she slowly ran her hands over her long legs, letting them trail over the top of her white knee socks, and over the smooth tanned skin above. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him staring. Her heart thumped as she slowly uncrossed then crossed her legs, her green uniform skirt riding up and exposing acres of bare thigh. "See, he can't take his eyes off you," Fay giggled. The girls heard footsteps behind them and quickly returned to their sketching. "Come along girls, less giggling, more drawing," Miss Brittan scolded them. --- Later that evening, Macy lay half-awake, still feeling a little agitated about what had happened earlier in the art class. What if Henry really had been naked under that robe as her friend had fantasized? She couldn't help wondering how he would look. She fell into a restless sleep, picturing him pulling that sheet aside to reveal the lean, hard flesh beneath. A little while later, something woke her up. An odd noise. It felt like she'd only been asleep for a few minutes. She looked at the little clock on her bedside table trying to work out why there was only one hand, eventually realising that it was five minutes past one, the luminous green hands overlapping. At first, she thought the noise must be Fay snoring but when she looked across, her roommate was sleeping peacefully, inert apart from the slight rise and fall of her chest. She closed her eyes and listened carefully. There it was again, a soft, low moaning noise. It was a warm night so they'd left the windows open, and in the darkness she could just make out a soft breeze rustling the curtains. The sound seemed quite muffled though, as if it was coming through the wall. A faint, female voice moaning. Macy yawned and rubbed her eyes, gradually becoming more awake as the sound grew louder. Sitting up in bed, she twisted around and pressed her ear against the wall. Miss Brittan had recently moved into the empty dormitory next door while her own study was being redecorated. It must be her voice, but she didn't sound like she did in class. Listening carefully, she could just make out another voice too. A man's voice, hoarse and urgent. Perhaps Mr Lean was paying her a late night visit! The thought made her heart beat a little faster, and she pressed her ear against the wall even harder. Frustratingly though, at that moment the sound seemed to fade away into the darkness. As she lay in the still darkness listening, her thoughts returned to the young man in art class. Spending a couple of hours staring at his body hardly seemed like school work at all. She wondered how it felt to be a life model. Staying perfectly still whilst some schoolgirls examined every curve and subtle plane of your semi-naked body. Perhaps it turned him on, he did choose to do it for a living after all. Perhaps he was all excited and hard under that thin sheet. It was a warm, humid night and the thoughts of the thin sheet clinging to every curve and bulge of Henry's firm, naked body made it feel even warmer. She slid back down the bed and stretched out on top of her summer duvet, one arm behind her head, the other roaming over her thighs, her stomach, her breasts. She was wearing a cute little vest top and pants set, white with little blue flowers. The thin cotton clung to the moist skin of her slim body. The sounds from next door were getting louder again, the unmistakable sound of desperate female groans, breaking the silence of the still night. Macy gently caressed the soft, pliant flesh of her boobs as she imagined what was going on just a few inches away, on the other side of the thin wall. The sounds weren't too loud so perhaps they were just spooning; Mr Lean's firm body curled around Miss Brittan's, their naked skin pressed together. Perhaps her urgent moaning was caused by the feel of his hot, moist lips grazing her neck, as his hands toyed with her breasts and slipped between her willing thighs. Macy felt herself becoming hotter, imagining how that would feel, trailing a finger over the taut material of her top. The thought of Henry's strong hands fondling her boobs made her nipples stand to attention. As she caressed herself, the volume increased again. Miss Brittan certainly was very vocal. Her strained voice ranged from soft, yearning "Uunh"s to the surprised little "oh!" to the contented "ah", causing Macy's imagination to paint some very erotic pictures. Her loins were yearning for a little attention now, and as she played with her hard, little nipples she slid her other hand between her warm, sticky thighs. A soft sigh escaped her lips, joining those drifting through the wall. Macy sat up as she crossed her arms then wriggled the clingy vest top up over her head; she had petite, sleek boobs sitting high on her ribcage. They were tipped with tiny nipples, all her nerve endings squeezed into two tight bundles. She quickly checked that Fay was still asleep then lay back, closing her eyes, and squeezed her naked flesh. She bit her lip, suppressing a little cry of pleasure as she rolled one of her ultra-sensitive buds between thumb and forefinger causing little sparks of hot pleasure. The sounds were becoming more urgent now, a rhythmic panting. Perhaps they were fucking now, Miss Brittan lying back on the bed, her long legs spread wide, her feet waving in the sultry air, her arms wrapped around Mr Lean's broad shoulders as their bodies twisted and slapped together. His firm buttocks bobbing up and down, as he thrust his cock between her willing, wide-open legs. Her pussy was aching to be touched, and she couldn't resist any longer. She ran her hand down over her stomach and between her hot thighs as she pictured the two teachers naked and entwined, their feverish bodies grinding together. She felt her panties quickly becoming damp as she stroked the swollen folds beneath. Next door, the sounds grew louder and more urgent, beneath the high-pitched female groaning, Macy could hear the sounds of bedsprings creaking now. The gossip amongst her friends recently was that Mr Lean liked dominant women so perhaps Miss Brittan was on top. She pictured the maths teacher lying back on the bed whilst an eager Miss Brittan slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing upright cock, a long, low animal groan escaping her lips as her pussy stretched to accommodate his generous girth. Macy slid her fingers beneath her panties, exploring the moist succulent folds of her pussy as she imagined Miss Brittan joyfully bouncing up and down, her hands braced against the solid slabs of muscle of his chest, her boobs jiggling, her head thrown back, eyes closed. The juices flowed freely and Macy's fingers slid up and down her silky folds as the deliciously sordid images crowded her mind. She glanced across at her roommate as she lifted her hips and quickly wriggled her panties down over her trembling thighs, kicking them off her ankles. Macy was ready to roll over pulling the duvet over her if she stirred, but Fay was still soundly asleep, her mouth half-open and snoring lightly. It felt so naughty writhing about naked on top of her bed like this with Fay just a few metres away. So wrong, and yet so good. The thought of being caught making it all the more exciting. She'd like to use her vibrator but that really was too risky. She ran a moist fingertip along her pussy, quickly finding the little spot at the top of her moist slit that made her catch her breath. Next door, the evening's performance was quickly moving towards its finale, Miss Brittan's passionate panting mixed with the dull, rhythmic thud of the headboard bumping against the wall, slow at first, but steadily speeding up. Thump, thump, thump. Something about the woman's breathless gasps and the complaining bedsprings made her picture them fucking doggy style, Miss Brittan on all fours, her knees wide apart, her boobs swaying between her arms, her copper curls tumbling over her closed eyes. Fucking like animals, Mr Lean energetically slamming into her from behind, his hands tightly gripping her narrow waist, his naked body glinting with sweat in the dark sultry night. She could hear the surprised yelps of pleasure escaping Miss Brittan's half-open lips as he eased himself deeper into her wetness. The warm, sticky night was getting stickier by the second. Gosh, she was so wet now! She could see her juicy fingers glistening in the moonlight that leaked between the curtains. She spread her pink folds with one hand, using the other to tease herself, her fingertips gliding over her moist slit, gently flicking over her hungry slit and toying with the entrance to her tight, little vagina. She had to bite her lip again to stop herself from making a noise as she slid a finger inside herself. She slowly frigged herself as she listened to her teacher's voice rising in pitch and pictured Mr Lean fucking her harder now, their hot flesh slapping together as he thrust his rock hard cock deep into her. Whenever the art teacher was particularly annoyed or excited she'd slip into her native french, and Macy could hear the tumble of urgent gallic words slipping from her lips, as she neared her climax. "Oh, oh, mon dieu, ne pas arrêter!" the strained voice of the art teacher was becoming louder and louder, the headboard thumping against the wall hard now. Gosh, he must really be giving it to her now, Macy thought as stroked her aching clitoris with her thumb. He must really be fucking her hard, ramming his big dick into her dripping pussy. Just saying those forbidden words in her mind made her feel even hotter. It was obvious that things were building to a climax next door. The woman's voice had changed: from soft, yearning sighs of sensual pleasure to staccato demands for satisfaction, encouraging him, insisting he satisfied her. Macy decided to try and come at the same time. Her hot body writhed on the bed, as she squeezed one of her painfully hard nipples, twisting it between thumb and forefinger, whilst thrusting two slender fingers in and out of her pussy, her wanton legs spread wide apart. She was so close now to the elusive orgasm now, her muscles burning, her feet rucking the duvet as her back arched up off the damp sheets, her whole body on a knife-edge as her hot breath rasped in her throat. "Oui, oui! Ahhh!" The sound of Miss Brittan coming, triggered Macy's release, her young body jerking and twitching like she was having a fit, her tight pussy squeezing her fingers as a sublime waves of pure ecstasy swept over her. Her feverish body twisted and convulsed on the damp duvet, her mouth wide open as the breath rushed out of her in a silent scream of sublime joy. The waves slowly subsided leaving her limp, breathless but deeply satisfied, in a way that only a good orgasm can. She wondered how much noise she'd made, but a glance over at Fay relieved her worries; the girl was still asleep and snoring peacefully. As she fumbled for her panties in the darkness, she could hear the soft murmur of the teacher's post-coital voices next door gently fading into the night's darkness. ---------------- Thursday, 1 May ---------------- It was a beautiful day, the warm sun filtering through the trees by the river and painting the grass in shades of dappled green. The girls spread blankets on the grass and unpacked the food for their birthday picnic. They were only about a short walk down the river but it was so peaceful they could have been in the middle of the countryside, a million miles from the school. "I've been saving this for a special occasion, and what better occasion than my best friend's birthday," Macy said as she withdrew the bottle of vodka that had been hidden at the back of her wardrobe since Christmas. She tied a piece of string to it, and laid it carefully in the cool water caught in a small gully in the riverbank. "Aw thanks, Macy," Fay giggled. "It's just what I wanted!" There were three of them: Macy, Fay and their friend Natalie who shared the dorm next door. Fay was going back to her parents at the weekend for a proper party but this was a little treat for the day itself. "So what else do you hope to get?" Natalie asked, lighting a cigarette and shielding her dark eyes from the sun. Smoking and drinking were strictly forbidden in the school grounds, but down here behind the boat shed they felt safe enough to risk it. Some ducks bobbed by on the languid water, eyeing their hamper hopefully. "Well I wouldn't mind a couple of hours alone with that male model! I'm sure my boyfriend would understand." "I know he's so hunky, I even saw that dyke Vicky making eyes at him! I wonder what it's like being a model," Macy added. "I bet he loves it, all the girls eyeing up his half-naked body," Fay said. "Yeah, I bet you're right, I bet it turns him on." "Yeah, I bet he's hung like a horse under that sheet, imagine that!" The girls giggled loudly. "Ooh, you are rude Fay, you've got a one-track mind," Natalie said in her subtle welsh accent. "I bet you're thinking just the same, I bet you were picturing him naked too, little Miss Innocent!" "Yes, well, I'm only flesh and blood," Natalie confessed. "He's lush, isn't he?" "Yeah, I could see you trying to catch his eye!" Macy said, prodding her arm, teasing her. "I was not!" Natalie protested. "Anyway, I'm sure I saw you flirting with him." "Was not! Although I must confess I wouldn't mind seeing a little more of hunky Henry," Macy said, blushing prettily as she recalled her fantasies of last night. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 06 "No chance of that with Miss Brittan keeping a beady eye on us." "What if Miss Brittan was called away though?" Macy said, reaching into the hamper, and feeling around until she found an egg-and-cress sandwich. "Called away? What you mean like on an errand?" "Yes, exactly, an errand," Macy said, smiling thoughtfully. --- Anna Brittan hummed to herself happily as she led Henry down the corridor, lost in her own thoughts. What a night she'd had last night! David was turning out to be exactly the sort of selfless, attentive, thoughtful lover she'd hoped he'd be. He had a lot of stamina too! If they'd carried on any longer last night she'd barely be able to walk today! The girls were all waiting patiently when they arrived. They'd been so well behaved yesterday, all those warnings from the other teachers about the girls had been shown to be grossly over-exaggerated. She'd taken some pictures of young Henry on her mobile the day before so she was able to help him into the same pose, reclining on the chaise longue, his head propped on one hand, a plain white sheet tastefully draped over his torso and thighs. "Miss, I think there's a note on your desk," Macy said as she finished. "Oh, thanks," Anna said. It was a handwritten note, no envelope, simply folded once and placed in the middle of her desk. She unfolded it and read: "Anna, need to speak to you urgently. Can you meet me outside the gym as soon as you read this? Thanks, D." How mysterious. It could only be from David. "Alright, girls, I need to go and see someone. I want you all on your best behaviour until I get back, understand?" she said, grabbing her handbag and heading towards the door. "Yes Miss," the girls chorused obediently. Anna didn't notice Macy and her friends exchanging broad grins as she skipped out of the classroom. --- It was fine and bright outside. A warm breeze ruffled her hair as she hurried down the gravel path, feeling a mixture of annoyance and concern. What could be so urgent that he needed so see her right now? Was he worried that someone had found out about them? Teachers dating each other was certainly frowned on, but they weren't breaking any rules, were they? Why didn't he just wait for her in the classroom if he really needed to talk to her? And why the gym? That was such a long way away, right at the other end of the school. --- Henry stared vacantly into space, it turned out that being a life model was quite boring. He knew it was important that he didn't change position, so he tried to meditate, concentrating on simply breathing in and out as the minutes slowly ticked by. Thinking about what he could do with the money. He was startled out of his trance by one of the girls addressing him. "Excuse me, what's your name again? Henry, isn't it?" the girl asked boldly. It was the tall arrogant-looking girl with the long, dark hair. The one with the gorgeous legs. "Yes, that's right," Henry replied, slightly startled at being spoken to. "Well, listen Henry, Miss Brittan told me that we could rearrange you if we wanted," Macy said, glancing around at her friends. Around her, her friends giggled nervously. "Rearrange me? What do you mean?" Macy smiled as she unfolded her long legs. "Let me show you what I have in mind," she said. --- Anna had expected to find David waiting outside, but he was nowhere to be seen. She tried his mobile but just got his answer phone. "David? I'm here at the gym. Where are you?" she said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. --- "So what are they paying you for this job?" Macy said, feeling a little giddy at being so close to him. Or was it the vodka? Between them, they'd nearly finished the bottle at lunchtime. "Well, um, a hundred pounds for the two days." "A hundred pounds? Tell you what it's my friend's birthday. I'll give you another hundred if you go the full Monty for her," Macy said, reaching out and playfully tugging the sheet a little lower. "The full Monty? Oh, no, I don't think so, I don't do that kind of thing," he said, laughing nervously as brushed her hand away and tugged the sheet back up. "Come on, you've got nothing to be ashamed of, have you? We just want a little look. It's in the name of art, nothing seedy." "No, I don't think so. Hey, I think I hear your teacher coming back," Henry bluffed, glancing up towards the door hopefully. "Come on, it's only a bit of fun," said a voice behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed that the shorter girl with the black hair and almond-shaped eyes was behind him. In fact, he noticed that most of the girls had abandoned their easels and were on their feet now. --- "Cindy, have you seen Mr Lean?" Anna asked one of the girls coming out of the gym. "The maths teacher? No Miss." Where was he? She should really be getting back to her class. She looked at her watch; she'd give him another five minutes then she'd really have to go. --- "Come on girls, enough now, eh?" he said, as the girls crowded around him, like wolves circling a stray sheep. Some of them grinned as they tugged playfully at the sheet. "Ooh, look at these guns," Fay purred as she squeezed one of his impressively chunky biceps. "And his lovely pec's," Emma added, running a hand over the taut skin of his chest. He tried to sit up, but soft, feminine hands clutched his arms and torso holding him back. "Come on, don't be shy, we just want a little look," Macy insisted, persistently pulling at the sheet until he lost his grip. There were girlish squeals of delight as it fell away revealing his lean, toned body, naked apart from a pair of tight white shorts with a promisingly large bulge. "Hey, come on, enough now, let me go! Your teacher's going to be pretty angry when she gets back," he said, squirming as unexpectedly strong and determined hands held him back. "Look at the size of his thigh muscles!" Natalie said excitedly, her fingers prodding his firm flesh. "Mmm, nice and firm," Macy agreed sliding her eager hands up over his legs. "Come on girls, stop this," Henry protested, his muscles straining as he tried to pull free. He felt his cock stir as eager hands squeezed his biceps, fondled his thighs and stroked his bare chest. He winced as cruel fingers pinched one of his nipples. "That's not the only part of him that's firm," Fay giggled, nodding at the sizeable bulge in his shorts. "Go on Macy, touch him down there, I dare you." Macy didn't need much encouragement. She smiled as she slid her hand up over his golden-haired thighs and caressed the growing bulge in his shorts. "Ooh, looks like someone wants to come out and play," she purred, stroking the tight fabric and feeling his cock growing excitingly hard beneath her fingertips. "Please don't," he gasped, watching helplessly as his cock strained against the clingy material. "Ooh, he feels nice and hard," Natalie said, making Henry groan as she squeezed his prick. "Maybe we ought to get his shorts off before it rips a hole in them!" --- Anna fumbled in her handbag for her mobile. "Hello? David?" "Anna, just got your message, what's up?" "Where are you?" "I'm in class, why?" "Didn't you want to meet me at the gym?" "The gym? No, why would I want to do that?" "So you didn't leave me a note?" "No, what note?" "Oh, never mind, I think my students are playing a practical joke on me. I'll see you later." --- "Come on then, let's get his shorts off," Macy said breathlessly, her eager fingers already clutching at the waistband. "No wait, stop!" Henry protested, struggling as the girls clutched his beefy arms. He watched helplessly as several pairs of hands tugged at his shorts. He groaned as he felt them sliding over his thighs, inch by inch until his lengthy cock sprung free nearly poking Macy in the eye. The girls squealed and laughed and pointed at the sight of his long, thick, rock-hard cock swaying slightly as Macy tugged his shorts from his ankles. "Oh my God! He's so big!" Natalie exclaimed excitedly. "Go on Macy, I dare you to touch it!" Macy bit her lip as she leaned over his thick thighs, feeling a little thrill of excitement as she ran her fingers over the hot, taut skin of his impressive cock. Of course, she'd seen a man naked before but never one this well-endowed. As her friends urged her on, she began to slowly stroke him up and down, enjoying the soyund of his protests turning to groans of arousal. "Go on Macy, kiss it, I dare you," Fay urged her. She looked up and grinned at Henry as she licked her pink lips, and slowly bent over his straining cock. A sudden noise from behind her made her spin around. "What on earth is going on here?" Anna shouted, her face as red as her flaming hair at the sight that greeted her when she opened the door. There was a brief pause, the girls caught frozen in time, Macy on her knees her hand wrapped around Henry's swollen shaft, Natalie next to her fondling his balls, Fay and some of the other girls holding his thick arms, and stroking Henry's naked skin. Then, as if a switch had been flicked, they melted away. Sitting back at their easels, quietly trying to pretend nothing had happened. Anna watched as Henry, his face flushed and his thick cock swinging between his thighs, swept the sheet from the floor, and wrapped it around himself. "Can't I leave you girls alone for five minutes before you're tearing the clothes from this young man like a pack of sex-starved animals? I'm very, very disappointed. You've let the school down, and you can all expect to be punished for this. Severely punished." ------------- Friday, 2 May ------------- Macy lay in bed, unable to get to sleep. Despite her behaviour, Fay had been allowed to go back to her parents for a birthday party. Maybe it was the novelty of being on her own that was causing her insomnia, or maybe it was the warm, stifling humidity. She rolled onto her side, relieving the pressure on her buttocks. They were still sore and throbbing from the ferocious spanking that old Wicklow had given her yesterday. She ran a hand over her derriere, feeling the heat through her thin, powder blue panties. Of course, the dirty old bastard had insisted on spanking her bare-bottomed, roughly grabbing her arm and pushing her over his desk before roughly yanking her skirt up over her bare legs. "That's it, quickly, now get those knickers down, girl," he'd ordered impatiently. "Please Sir, do I really have to?" she'd pleaded, already knowing the answer as she reached behind and reluctantly grasped the waistband of her panties. "Listen, girl, you were caught tearing the clothes of someone who was a guest of the school. Miss Brittan swears she could smell alcohol on your breath too. So given what you've been up to you're lucky not to be expelled, now get on with it before I really lose my temper and use my cane instead." Macy couldn't help shaking a little as she slipped her white uniform knickers down over her thighs. It was probably an empty threat though; all the girls knew the old pervert preferred to use his hand, getting a cheap thrill from being able to grope their naked buttocks. The only saving grace was the other girls lined up just outside the door would stop him taking any liberties with her. There were plenty of stories about him insisting that girls needed 'extra punishment'. The worst thing was that, deep down, she knew she deserved it. She had been very naughty. Was it just the vodka that made her act so impulsively? Miss Brittan's expression of horror when the door flew open would remain etched on her mind for a long time. Of course, the other image she wouldn't forget in a hurry was that of Henry, his trim body twisting and straining as they stripped him naked. His muscles bulging, that lovely big cock swaying between his muscular thighs as she eased his shorts over his tree-trunk thighs. Such hot images. Macy rolled over and stretched an arm out, opening the top drawer of her bedside table and fumbling about in the darkness until her fingertips found both her dildos. The smaller of the two was a cute, little toy, euphemistically described on the adult website as a 'mini-massager that fits easily in a purse', as if the women who bought it had a nice relaxing massage on their minds. A pale lilac colour and not much bigger than a stick of lipstick it had already given her many hours of pleasure. The smaller toy could be mistaken for something else, but there was no doubt about the bigger toy: a no-nonsense, eight-inch, flesh-coloured dong, made from soft, pliable silicone and looking almost exactly like Henry's cock, right down to the thick veins and swollen head. It was quite thick though, and unless she was very aroused, it could be a little painful. Macy twisted the base of the little vibrator, feeling a flutter of excited anticipation deep in the pit of her stomach as it came alive in her hands. She rolled onto her back, ignoring the throbbing ache from her buttocks as she ran it over her naked flesh. She fantasized about those intense blue eyes locking with hers, making her blush, her hand trembling as she struggled to concentrate on her drawing. Watching him stand up, the sheet falling away to reveal his glorious nakedness, and walk towards her, never taking his eyes off her, his thick cock swinging between his muscular thighs. Then taking her hand and leading her over to the chaise longue, before undressing her with his strong, sure hands. Unable to resist as she watched him unbutton her blouse and skirt, leaving them in a little tangled heap on the floor. The rest of her classmates acting as normal, continuing to dispassionately sketch what was happening as he pulled her against his hot body, her soft curves moulding to the hard contours of his body. She closed her eyes and savoured the delicious tingly sensations wherever the buzzing toy touched her skin as she slowly trailed it over her arms, her stomach, her breasts. What would it feel like to be held in those big arms of his? Or to have those rough, strong hands tugging at her bra and easing her panties over her slim hips? Stripping her completely naked like him? Macy ran the vibrator in tight little circles around her nipples, teasing herself as she pictured herself entwined with Henry on the chaise longue, both of them naked as her classmates sat at their easels, calmly sketching their bodies, as if it were perfectly normal. Fay would be chewing the end of her pencil thoughtfully, leaning forwards, studying them, watching her moan contentedly as Henry kissed her neck and shoulders. She bet he'd be a great kisser, closing his eyes, twisting his head sideways a little as their lips met. Deep contented moans at the back of his throat as their tongues explored each other's mouths and his lean, hard body pressed urgently against her yielding flesh. Her nipples were hard and tight now, and they tingled excitingly as she ran her toy over one whilst gently squeezing the other between a wet thumb and forefinger. In her minds' eye, she pictured Henry's eager lips drawing a nipple into the warm, wetness of his mouth and gently biting it between his white teeth. Flicking it with his tongue until it was engorged and plump. They'd both be breathing heavily now, their bodies grinding together. She'd run her hands over the firm contours of his muscular back pulling him closer, her lips sucking at his earlobe as they writhed together. Miss Brittan would be watching them too. Strolling around the back of the class, as the girls tried to capture their passion in charcoal. She'd be looking at the girls' sketches over their shoulders, occasionally whispering a suggestion. The girls concentrating on their work, the room silent apart from her contented moans as Henry ravished her naked body. Gosh, it was such a hot fantasy! Macy ran the vibrator slowly down over her restless, undulating body as she imagined Henry leaving a trail of passionate kisses over her stomach. She imagined him looking up at her with those sexy blue eyes, holding her gaze as he began to lick her right there, right where she ached for his touch, lapping hungrily at the wetness spilling from her. His face soon smeared with her honey as if he was gorging himself on some exotic, juicy fruit. Macy had been stroking herself through the damp cotton of her panties but now her body demanded more. She hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband and slipped them over her slim hips, kicking them off her long legs. She moaned loudly as she spread her thighs wide, lightly running the buzzing toy along the moist contours of her silky slit, along her super-sensitive perineum, over her puffy lips, and around her throbbing clit. All the while, her classmates would be watching her and Henry as they made love; watching as she eased her wanton thighs wide apart, like opening a book. Watching her run her hands through his shaggy blond hair, encouraging him to spread her wet folds with his probing fingers and caress her pink inner lips with his restless tongue. Watching his thick, swollen cock growing harder; hearing her breathless sighs; smelling the musky scent of her desire as his tongue licked her pussy until she felt she might pass out with the sheer bliss. Macy rolled over, her feverish body demanding more than just the teasing buzz of her vibrator. She fumbled in the darkness with one hand, until her fingers brushed the solid, fleshy silicone of the dildo. She quickly took it in her mouth, licking and sucking at it hungrily as if were Henry's prick. In her fantasy, Henry was leaning over her now; one thick arm supporting his weight as the other stroked his gorgeous cock to full hardness and guided it between her wantonly spread thighs. Macy ran the thick, blunt end of her dong along her thighs, imagining Henry teasing her, until she simply couldn't help herself. A low, animal howl of desire escaped her plump lips as she eased the fat toy inside her, its generous girth stretching her aching lips. Sometimes she had to spread lubricant along its impressive length, but tonight she was so wet it slipped smoothly inside her. Her young body shook and writhed, the sheets clinging to her damp skin as she slowly eased the fake cock in and out, her tight lips feeling every ripple and ridge on its slippery surface. With her other hand she ran her vibe around her aching clit in tight little circles. She closed her eyes and saw Henry on top of her, his taut, muscular buttocks bobbing up and down driving his lovely, rock-hard cock deep inside her. She'd wrap her arms and legs around him, her nails clawing at his back, clinging on to him, enjoying the wild ride as he plunged into her, his swollen balls slapping against her thighs, his hot breath on her neck. She was panting now, her breath coming in great sobbing gasps, her body on fire as she moved her hands faster and faster. She felt herself soaring higher and higher, the sensations becoming more and more intense until she was nearly there. Her muscles burned, and her body was as taut as a violin string as with a final frantic burst of thrusts she pushed herself over the edge and bright lights flashed inside her eyelids, as a terrific orgasm swept through her, her moans of pleasure dissipating in the warm night air. --- Miss Brittan stirred in her sleep. Her lips curled into a sleepy smile, as she listened to the moans drifting through the thin wall. It sounded like one of the girls next door was certainly enjoying her own company! She felt a frisson of pleasure as a series of ragged, breathless moans ended with a low, unmistakeable wail of pleasure. Although they'd made love earlier, the performance next door had reawakened her libido. Anna rolled over, pressing her soft breasts against the hard muscles of his back. She wrapped an arm around David's stomach, sliding it lower and caressing the reassuringly solid bulge in his shorts. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 06 "Did you hear her too?" she whispered, wrapping her slim fingers around his thick shaft. "Gosh, Miss Brittan, you're insatiable," he murmured drowsily as her sharp little teeth gently nipped his earlobe. "Whatever am I going to do with you?" he said, smiling as he twisted around to face her in the inky darkness and helped her ease her thin nightgown up over her head. Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 07 Challenging Times --------------- Friday, 5 June --------------- Fay re-read the words on her screen with a heady mixture of excitement and anxiety. Up until now, his challenges had stretched her inhibitions a little without demanding anything that made her really uncomfortable, but this seemed to be in a whole other league. She still wasn't entirely sure she was doing the right thing, everybody knew the dangers of talking to strangers on the internet. On the other hand, it did seem to be helping her with her problem. It's something she'd struggled with as long as she could remember. Perhaps it was to do with her childhood. She was the middle child of a large family; she had two younger sisters and two older brothers. Her parents were very loving, very happy together, and not shy about showing their affection for one another. Fay still blushed at the memory of walking in on them in the kitchen one day after leaving school early and finding them expressing their love for each other in a very explicit way. She could still feel the hot flush of embarrassment as she bolted upstairs, her feet thumping on the stairs. Their 'hands on' behaviour had had quite an effect on her; instead of making her feel more liberated it had had the opposite effect, making her feel quite reticent, almost prudish, about sex and nudity. She would have been sprinting upstairs to the bedroom she shared with her sister. A bedroom they'd shared until she was fourteen. She'd shared a bedroom virtually all of her eighteen years, and perhaps this was another reason she had a problem with pleasuring herself. It simply wasn't something she had a lot of experience with. At least she had the dorm to herself at the moment. Both Macy and Miss Brittan, the art teacher, had been suspended until the end of term after what the headmaster had called 'the incident in the art room'. As much as she enjoyed the freedom of having the room all to herself, her inability to fully satisfy herself made her feel like it was an opportunity wasted. Her ex-boyfriend hadn't been any help either. She shuddered when she thought of the last time she'd seen him, at Easter and they'd made love. Well, the truth was, they'd attempted to make love but he'd finished way too soon. Almost as soon as he'd entered her he'd uttered a strangled gasp, his body jerking wildly, as she felt his hot juices draining from his body along with all his passion and enthusiasm. "Never mind, sweetie," she'd whispered, as he collapsed heavily on top of her. Around that time, she'd discovered some very informative websites, and it no longer seemed normal to have a boyfriend who wasn't interested in her pleasure. Having an orgasm once or twice a year no longer seemed so normal. She dumped him a few days later, just before she came back to St Catherine's, using the excuse that having a long distance relationship wasn't working for her. Still, dumping her boyfriend gave her one less person to confide in and her problem was such a difficult thing to talk about. Who could you ask about something like that? Certainly not your parents or your doctor. And how could she raise it with her roommate Macy? "By the way Macy, I've been having problems achieving orgasm when I'm masturbating, have you got any tips?" Yeah, right. Ironically, Macy would probably be able to offer some good advice, she certainly had a lot of experience in that area. Fay sometimes heard her, in the still darkness of the night, touching herself. The subtle rhythmic motion of her hands beneath the thin sheet, her flushed face pressed tightly into her pillow to muffle the sounds of her pleasure. Fay always lay still, pretending to be asleep as her friend gasped and wriggled, feeling jealous of her friend's evident enjoyment. Her emotions a strange mixture of arousal and frustration as she listened to her friend's breathing becoming more and more laboured, the soft, yearning sighs becoming hot, feverish sobs as her friend stroked herself towards yet another orgasm. Her passionate moans becoming gradually more and more urgent until she came, a few tense seconds of silence followed by a long, low moan of sublime contentment. Eventually, frustrated at her inability to find a solution, Fay had started to seriously research her issue on the internet. Before that, she'd just surfed websites and lurked, invisible, in chat-rooms trying to pick up tips on how to achieve that elusive orgasm. But nothing had seemed to help, and she'd got more and more involved, eventually plucking up the courage to chat to someone: "Neal25". They'd started to play an online game of "truth or dare". Fay usually went for "truth", wanting to know more about the man she was chatting to and had found out that he was a 25 year old teacher, originally from London. Conversely, he usually went for "dare" and had set her a number of increasingly risky, and sexual challenges. She'd completed her latest 'dare' today. She could remember exactly what he'd written, word for dangerously exciting word: "I want you to go all day without wearing knickers. To make this more difficult, you are to wear a dress or skirt. The thrill here is being naughty. Bad. Risky. Someone might see. All day, I want you to think about how bad you're being. Come on frustratedGrl, I dare you!" The plaid uniform skirt that they were required to wear in the summer months only came down to her mid-thigh and so she'd spent all day self-consciously tugging it down to her knees especially when she was climbing stairs, and crossing her legs so tightly that her legs had gone numb. It had been a bright and breezy kind of day outside and she'd been able to feel the fresh air flowing around her bare thighs, a constant reminder of her nakedness. Knowing that if the breeze caught her skirt just right it could fly up, exposing her as the wanton girl she was. It had made her feel every bit as naughty as he'd predicted. Of course, when she logged on later that evening, 'Neal25' was very keen to find out all about her day. She smiled when she read his words, it was pretty clear how keen he was to hear about her day. Neal25: how did you get on, frustratedGrl? did you complete the dare? how did it feel? frustratedGrl: yes! :-) it made me feel naughty and bad and scared, all at the same time. at lunchtime, the canteen was packed. waiting in line one of the male teachers pressed up against me and i couldn't help wondering how he'd react if he knew my little secret! i went bright red :-o Neal25: what a naughty girl you are! did it turn you on? frustratedGrl: i just felt too nervous today; i guess i feel a little aroused when i think about it now Neal25: you're so hot! so it's your turn, truth or dare? frustratedGrl: hmm, i think... truth Neal25: ask your question then.... frustratedGrl: does hearing about my day arouse you? are you hard? :-o Neal25: oh yes, very frustratedGrl: wish i could see! are you touching yourself? Neal25: a little, are you? frustratedGrl: maybe a little :-) Neal25: i'd love to find out more but i've got to go soon and now it's my turn frustratedGrl: aw, i was just starting to have fun! truth or dare? Neal25: i dare you to take a naughty picture of yourself outside. it could be topless or completely nude or maybe just wearing a see-through top. it doesn't matter as long as you feel out of your comfort zone. it can be anywhere outside: in a field, in some woods, down an alley. you need to send it to me, i'll explain how tomorrow. i don't need to see your face, it's best if we both remain anonymous so wear a mask, a big sunhat, or just crop the picture frustratedGrl: you seem to have given this a lot of thought! when do i get to see a picture of you? Neal25: when it's your turn! you can dare me whatever you like frustratedGrl: hmm, outside, really? i'll try but i'm not sure i can, what if someone sees me? Neal25: well that's what makes it risky; it wouldn't be a much of a dare if it was easy frustratedGrl: ok, i'll try, but no promises... Neal25: can't wait! **session ended 22:14:12** Fay closed the laptop and got into bed. How on earth was she going to do this? Tomorrow was Saturday, which gave her the opportunity to go somewhere, but realistically it would have to be within walking distance of the school. There were some secluded spots along the river, up towards the reservoir. Eventually she drifted off to asleep, still pondering her options. -------------------------- Saturday (Morning), 6 June -------------------------- Major Farnsworth hiked along the path through the trees. He walked steadily feeling the rhythmic thump of his camera and binoculars bumping against his chest through his waxed jacket. His black Labrador, Betsy, trotted along behind him faithfully. After his wife had died, he'd got into the habit of taking long early morning walks before breakfast. This route was one of his favourites: a hilly, three mile loop starting from his cottage at the edge of the village of Eastbrook, up through the woods, and back along the river near St Catherine's school. Although he'd been retired for many years now, he still got up at six am every day, the habits formed by a lifetime in the army hard to shake off. He'd found that this quiet part of the day, just after the dawn chorus was best time to spot birds. After he'd retired, his wife had encouraged him to find a hobby that kept him outdoors and active, and bird-watching allowed him to use the skills of camouflage and moving around unseen that he'd built up over his years in the forces. Today he was hoping to spot a desert wheatear; a friend at the local bird-watching club had sworn he'd seen the rare bird somewhere down here near the river (although he didn't get a photo), so he was walking along the ridge and keeping an eye out for its distinctive sandy brown plumage. So far he hadn't seen much. Some blurred pictures of a barn owl and greater spotted woodpecker wouldn't impress anybody down at the Eastbrook Bird-spotters Club. He paused when he spotted movement: something pink and white among the dull greens and muddy browns of the forest, in a patch of sunlight down in the reeds and tall grasses near the river's edge. Something almost luminescent in the early morning sunshine. Was that a person? The major held the binoculars up to his eyes, leaning against a thick oak tree to steady himself. It was a teenage girl! In his experience, it was unusual to see a teenager up and around at this time of the morning. She was looking around nervously, it looked like she was making sure she was alone. He waited patiently as she had a good look around then quickly unbuttoned her jeans and sat down on a picnic bench, slipping off her trainers then easing the tight denim from her slender legs. "Good grief, I think she's undressing, Betsy!" he muttered as he slipped behind a tree trunk, his years of army training kicking in as he blended into the shadows in his dull olive jacket and brown cords. He wondered where she'd come from and what on earth she was up to. The first question was probably the easiest. She looked about eighteen or nineteen so she was probably from St Catherine's, the school about a mile downstream. He pondered the second question as he watched her unbuttoning her white blouse and sliding it over her pale shoulders. Was she sunbathing, or about to go for a swim? He'd heard a lot of rumours about the school. Was it was some kind of bizarre initiation ceremony? Whatever the reason, he wasn't complaining. He had an excellent view of her through his powerful ex-army binoculars, feeling a warm surge of arousal as he realised she wasn't wearing a bra under her blouse. She was a pretty young thing with long, dark, silky hair and a pleasing, almost classically beautiful face with high cheekbones and plump lips. Her body was slim with sleek, firm breasts sitting high on her chest. His hands trembled a little as he watched her holding her mobile phone out in front of her, obviously taking pictures of herself clad in just a tiny pair of white knickers. What did the youngsters call them? Selfies? Perhaps she was taking pictures for her boyfriend. If so, he was a very lucky young man. He watched intently as she put the 'phone down on the table and glanced around anxiously. She looked ready to bolt at the slightest noise, like a young deer grazing out in the open, wary of predators. He felt his cock stirring into life as he watched her hook her thumbs under the waistband of her panties. He slipped further behind the tree as her head swivelled in his direction, although she'd be unlikely to spot him at this distance. It gave him the opportunity to put down his binoculars and grab his camera. He had a high power telephoto lens, ideal for capturing images of rare and exotic birds, and he'd rarely seen anything more exotic than this mysterious girl. Peering through the viewfinder he was rewarded with the glorious sight of her leaning against the bench with one hand, whilst slipping her last item of clothing off of her lean legs, revealing an almost bare pussy, just a thin landing strip of dark hair. He watched her lift each foot in turn then toss the little tangle of white onto the weathered wooden table along with the rest of her clothes, a little crumpled pile of indigo and white. He felt himself quickly become fully hard, the little major in his trousers saluting the sight of her gorgeous naked body glowing palely in the morning sunshine as he snapped away happily. He zoomed in a little more and held his breath, drinking in the unexpected vision of her firm, young curves as she once again held up her phone at arm's length, taking more pictures of herself as he took pictures of her. No makeup or jewellery, just a natural beauty against the backdrop of the English countryside. After quickly snapping a couple of photo's she was finished. He couldn't suppress a soft groan of disappointment as she hurriedly started to pull her clothes back on, the show over for today. He only had the chance to take a couple of pictures of her quickly buttoning her blouse and pulling on her jeans before she finished dressing and was slipping her shoes back on. He watched her scurry away down the riverside path in the direction of the school, unwilling to move on until her white blouse completely disappeared behind the bushes and reeds. "Well, Betsy, that certainly beats seeing a desert wheatear " he said, already looking forward to downloading his pictures and examining them in all their high definition glory on his laptop. ---------------- Saturday (Night) ---------------- Fay sat on her bed cross-legged, just the glow from the laptop's screen lighting her face. She chewed her fingernail as she examined the images she'd downloaded from her mobile trying to decide which ones to send him. Not the ones that had captured the bottom half of her face or that distinctive diamond-shaped birthmark on her left shoulder. Eventually she selected the two where she was just wearing her knickers, the early morning sunlight slanting across her naked boobs. She bit her lip nervously as she hit the Send button. frustratedGrl: do you like them? Neal25: very much, they're very sexy pictures; how did it make you feel? frustratedGrl: nervous, liberated, decadent, i was covered in goose-bumps! i'm not sure whether it was the cold or the excitement! Neal25: excellent, well congrat's on completing the dare! frustratedGrl: my turn! my turn‼ Neal25: OK, truth or dare? frustratedGrl: i think it's time i got to see a picture of you ;-) i dare you to send me one Neal25: maybe, but i can't show my face, you know the rules are that we both remain anonymous frustratedGrl: it's not your face i want to see :-)) come on, you've seen me Neal25: ok.... wait a minute... Whilst she waited, Fay changed position, stretching her long legs and lying on her side, and using a stack of pillows to support her head. She unbuttoned her blouse and caressed her boobs, squeezing the firm, springy flesh beneath her thin bra. As she re-read the text, she started to absent-mindedly stroke the pale, silky skin of her thighs beneath her plaid skirt as she impatiently pecked at the laptop's keyboard with the other hand. frustratedGrl: come on! you're not shy, are you? :-p Neal25: ok, here you go... Fay double-clicked the thumbnail with trembling fingers and caught her breath at the image that filled the screen. It was a dim, low-resolution black-and-white image of a young man seated in a large, black leather chair. It was from the neck down, and showed him reclining, his dark towelling bathrobe open exposing the lean, muscles of his hairless chest and his taut stomach. He had the tight, athletic build of a swimmer or footballer. She bit her lip as her eyes slid lower, taking in his tight, light-grey shorts clinging to his lightly-haired thighs. She leaned a little closer, examining the large, unmistakeable bulge in them as she used one hand to peck at the keyboard, whilst the other slid beneath her skirt and began to stroke herself through her white uniform panties. frustratedGrl: omg, is that really you? you haven't cheated and copied a pic from the internet? Neal25: no, it's really me frustratedGrl: wow, you're hot, mister Neal25 :-p Neal25: thanks, can we continue now? frustratedGrl: oh yeah, believe me, i'm more ready than ever :-o so truth or dare? Neal25: truth: are you touching yourself right now? frustratedGrl: what a question?! maybe a little... Neal25: tell me more... frustratedGrl: right now, i'm lying back on my bed, typing with one hand, whilst gently running my fingertips along the edge of my knickers with the other. it feels so nice. naughty but nice! Neal25: first, stripping off in public, then sending me pics, now playing with yourself. what a naughty, naughty girl you are! frustratedGrl: hey, stop distracting me! it's my turn now, no bending the rules! Neal25: ok, truth or dare, sexy? frustratedGrl: truth: if you were a teacher at my school, what would you have done if you'd caught me without knickers? :-o Neal25: well, obviously, any girl so flagrantly ignoring the rules around school uniform needs correction frustratedGrl: oh yes, i desperately need some 'correction' ;-) Neal25: so i'd take you back to my study, bend you over my desk and give you a damn good spanking! frustratedGrl: ooh yes... Neal25: can you imagine that? being forced to bend over my hard wooden desk, your bottom stuck in the air, my hand on your back pinning you down as i ease your skirt up over your shamefully naked buttocks frustratedGrl: yes, I'm so ashamed at being caught! i feel so naked and vulnerable as you raise your hand... Neal25: I slap you a few times, loving the harsh sound of my firm hand on your soft, rounded arse cheeks frustratedGrl: ouch! i squeal, the tender skin of my bottom all hot and tingly, I squirm and kick my legs but you hold me firmly Neal25: what a wicked, dirty girl you are, walking around without any underwear, I say as i spank you again frustratedGrl: I'm sorry, I whimper, please stop, it hurts! Neal25: i pause, running my hand over your smooth skin, feeling the warmth of your reddened cheeks as i caress your gorgeously pert arse frustratedGrl: what are you doing? have you finished? i say hopefully, trying to stand up Neal25: stay down, girl, i say sternly pushing you back down roughly and tapping your ankles, making you spread your legs a little wider frustratedGrl: please, sir, no more (my bottom's warm and tingling, but i'm starting to tingle somewhere else too!) Neal25: with your legs wide apart i can't resist slinding my hand between your warm thighs and exploring your nakedness, i smile when i feel how moist you are Another Year at St Cat’s Ch. 07 frustratedGrl: oh sir! you shouldn't be doing this! i say as I squirm Neal25: quiet girl! i say as i give you another slap before running my fingers along your slit and gently caressing you frustratedGrl: please sir, i moan helplessly as you spread my pussy lips and tease my swollen, wet folds Neal25: what a horny, wicked girl you are i growl, as my fingers circle your pussy, spreading your juices along your slit frustratedGrl: please, please, i'm panting Neal25: you're making me so hard! i can't stand it anymore! i quickly unzip my flies, and pull out my thick, turgid cock frustratedGrl: i'm still bent over your desk and i can only wait helplessly as i twist around and watch you stroking your lovely big cock until it's all hard and throbbing Neal25: i know i shouldn't be doing this with one of my students but your hot, young body is driving me crazy. my cock's achingly hard and i try to ease the almost painful swelling by sliding it between the groove of your buttocks frustratedGrl: please, don't tease me, give it to me i gasp wickedly as i wriggle excitedly Neal25: i can't take any more, i'm desperate to be inside you! frustratedGrl: i hold my breath as i feel the engorged purple head of your lovely cock press against my entrance Neal25: and then we're both moaning happily as i ease myself inside your tight, little pussy the wet lips stretched around the broad girth of my shaft frustratedGrl: it feels so good, as you push deep inside me Neal25: i close my eyes, savouring the velvety feel of your tight pussy caressing my length frustratedGrl: oh, it feels so good, so good as you fuck me Neal25: i start to fuck you with long, deep strokes, my balls slapping against your reddened buttocks frustratedGrl: yes, don't stop, don't ever stop! Neal25: i begin to move faster, harder, your breathless sobs urging me on... frustratedGrl: don't stop, make me cum Neal25: you feel so good, so tight and wet... Fay was lying back on the bed now, still trying to type with one hand whilst the other stroked the moist contours of her pussy through the damp cotton of her panties. As she grew hotter and hotter, she gave in to the demands of her body, pushing her laptop aside as she lifted her hips and slipped her panties over her hot thighs, kicking them off her legs. With her head pressed back against the pillow, Fay spread her legs wide, her wet fingers sliding back and forth along her silky slit. She gasped, her mouth open, eyes shut as she drew a wet fingertip around her throbbing clit, her hips arching up off the bed. Stripping off in public and spending the day without knickers had left her body feeling the slow burn of arousal and the fear of being caught had acted like an aphrodisiac. What if she had been caught by some handsome, young teacher? His strong hands forcing her over his desk, her skirt pulled up to expose her shameful lack of underwear. In her mind, she pictured herself bent over his desk, his strong hands pinning her wrists against the polished surface, as he fucked her enthusiastically, his trousers around his knees, his muscular buttocks tensed, his big dick pounding into her again and again. Relentlessly fucking her as she writhed and panted, their hot sweaty bodies slapping together. His firm hand sometimes slapping her red buttocks or pulling her head back by her hair, as he told her how bad she was, how much she deserved it. She was so close now, she could feel the pressure building. Her fingers were moving faster and faster now, describing tight little circles as she pictured the hot scene, her body as tense as a violin string, as she strained to satisfy the urgent desires of her body. Then suddenly she was there, her hot little gasps coalescing into one long joyful wail of ecstasy as she pushed herself over the edge and she was cumming, all the pent up frustrations of the last few months sated in one long sublime moment of supreme pleasure. Eventually, she rolled over, and ran a hand through her tousled hair, sweeping it off her damp forehead. A sleepy smile played around her soft, pink lips as she examined the laptop. Neal25: you've been gone for some time! did you cum, you naughty girl? frustratedGrl: maybe... :-))) Neal25: be honest... frustratedGrl: omg, i came like crazy! that was terrific! it's been so long! i'm going to have to change my user name! completelySatisfiedGrl? veryContentedGrl? multipleOrgasmGrl? :-)) How about you? Neal25: oh yeah! it's quite a mess here frustratedGrl: ha ha! i bet! wish i could see Neal25: well i did promise i could help... frustratedGrl: you certainly did! hey, thanks for the free sex therapy! Neal25: no, thank you! see you tomorrow? frustratedGrl: i'll be here, perhaps you can think of a new challenge, huh? Neal25: it'll be my pleasure! 'bye now **session ended 22:45:14** Wicklow leaned back in his worn, leather armchair, closed the laptop and extracted a white man-sized tissue from a box on his desk. He took another sip of whisky and smiled as he mopped up the cooling fluid from his stomach. He'd met quite a few like-minded souls in internet chat rooms but 'frustratedGrl' was the hottest yet. He couldn't help wondering who she really was. Of course she could actually be the young, attractive girl in the photo's she'd sent but that seemed unlikely. After all, wasn't he pretending to be something he wasn't? Well, he wasn't being completely untruthful, he was a teacher after all, but he had lied about his age. And the pictures he'd sent had been taken from the internet. Still, a little exaggeration never hurt anyone, did it? He wouldn't be the first person on the internet to pretend to be someone he wasn't. So, all in all, it seemed unlikely that frustratedGrl was the nubile young schoolgirl she portrayed herself as. She was more likely to be a thirty-something office girl from Cardiff with a spicy imagination or a middle-aged 'soccer mom' from Toronto with a spanking fetish. Still, as long as they both played the game, it was all harmless fun, wasn't it? And with the end of term only a couple of weeks away, he figured he'd be making a lot more internet 'friends' over the next two months.