A Most Wicked Headmaster (BDSM Erotica) (2 page)

The bitch was hooked, it had been easy and now he intended to
further his entrapment of her. His cock attained a full and pulsing
erection beneath the desk, as he looked at her little pleading
expression.

"You live in staff quarters I understand?"

"Yes, the old grounds man’s cottage at the back of the stables
- now the garage for the mini-bus."

He nodded.

"Very well," he then paused for effect, "I will visit you
there three evenings a week and instruct you, beginning this
evening at eight."

Her face beamed her delight and the woman couldn't contain
herself.

"Thank you, thank you," she said with deep
sincerity.

He felt his cock jerk within his trousers.

"Be warned though that I teach by reward, show no progress and
punishment ensues."

"Yes," she said firmly, "naturally it should."

"Our arrangement will be in the strictest of confidence, not a
soul is to know of it."

"Of course, I prefer it that way too," she said almost too
readily and blushed again at her impulsive reply.

The headmaster stood, arching his back to allow her to note
the bulge in the front of his trousers. He groaned inwardly as her
eyes flicked down to his crotch and then quickly back up to his
face. She blushed, a deep crimson at his awareness of her secretive
glance.

"How do you punish your pupils here? Physically I
mean."

The woman hesitated and then said.

"The slipper or...err, the cane."

He nodded and moved slowly around the desk.

"And you? What method should we use on you as punishment for
your lateness?"

He walked slowly to the door, allowing her to stand in silence
as he locked the door of his study.

"I...er, have never...don't know...must we?" she muttered
fearfully.

He walked back to stand beside her.

"We must," he said in a soft but firm tone, "Which is it to
be?"

"The slipper," she blurted, her voice cracking with emotion
and fear.

He walked around the desk, opened the draw and pulled out a
large man's sized plimsoll.

"Bend over the desk then."

"Oh God," she whimpered and stepped forward. Her hands were
trembling as she placed them on the flat top of the desk and
hesitantly bent over.

"Not too hard, please not hard," she begged
pathetically.

The clinging skirt pulled harshly across her presented
backside as she bent, pulling tightly over each contour of her
rounded mounds and her panty line showed clearly through the
material. The headmaster looked her over silently for a moment,
savouring the wonderful sight of her firm young backside facing
him.

Her head threw back and her body arched as the plimsoll
slammed hard down her buttocks.

"Aaaaagh!" she cried out and straightened to stand, both her
hands clamping over her stinging buttocks to soothe the affected
area.

"Get back down," he snapped.

A little fear-filled whimper escaped her lips and then she
bent again and braced herself.

Her whole body jolted under the impact of the second blow, the
air forced from her lungs and her head dropped to hang down between
her outstretched arms.

"Christ! That hurts," she muttered through gritted teeth and
then bucked again under the third hard swipe.

"Just six today," he said excitedly, "next time I will be more
severe with you."

He loved the heavy thudding sound that the slipper made on her
taut buttocks but better still was the way her slim frame shook and
tensed as the pain burned deeply into her body. The warmth would be
spreading down between her thighs and to her pussy lips. He
imagined the sweet fresh folds of vaginal flesh and groaned his
excitement as he pictured himself licking it.

On the fifth stroke he came in his pants, his cock jerked
rapidly to emit his thick come into the inside of his trousers. He
stood silently savouring the last jerks of orgasm and then composed
himself.

"Tonight at eight," he restated and dismissed her.

The woman straightened and with face red and eyes filled with
tears she rushed to the door, fumbled with the key to unlock it and
ran from the room sobbing.

***

The games session was well in progress, the sixth form sluts
squealed excitedly as they ran back and forth on the hockey pitch.
The light grey gymslips flicked up pleasingly as they ran and
stooped to give tantalising glimpses of upper thigh and navy blue
knickers. Of strong muscular thighs and firm rounded buttocks, taut
and silky. Their ample breasts jiggled delightfully within the
tight restrains of their blouses to add another cock-stiffening
dimension to the wonderful scene. The ones with the long, over-
the-knee socks appealed greatly, the gap of bare thigh between the
tops and the hems of the gym-slips held a horny fascination all of
their own. The others though, with their socks rolled down around
their ankles showing their long, lean legs produced mental images
of them bound and struggling. With their hair tied back in either
ponytails or in pigtails all of the maturing sluts held a childish
look of innocence despite their beautifully developed bodies. It
was difficult indeed to decide and to draw up a short list; all of
the sluts were lovely, some more than others.

Best of all though was the fact that they knew, were aware of
him standing watching and they played it to the full. The little
sluts would pose and strut, offering their bodies in profile and
sticking their chests out, bending and stooping more than was
necessary simply to display themselves to him. Like the little slut
that sat to tie her shoelace, she positioned herself with her legs
toward him, her knees drawn up and parted deliberately to show the
dark gusset of her knickers to him. They were whores, teasing
little harlots that were becoming aware of their sexuality, their
bodies and sexual needs awakening and he intended to aid them every
step of the way.

His cock jerked in involuntary reaction within his trousers as
he made his selection, much as he would like, he couldn't possibly
fuck them all. Only the ripest, the most likely and the most
tempting would go on his list to begin with and then, as the year
progressed, who could tell? Perhaps he might just get to make every
single one of the sluts squeal in pain, to revel in the heady
feelings as their sweet little pussies and backsides were being
violated. At that thought the headmaster pushed his hands deeper
down into his trouser pockets, gripped his cock and groaned his
need for the dirty little bitches flaunting themselves before
him.

***

At precisely eight o'clock he arrived at the young teacher's
cottage door, knocked and waited impatiently for her to answer,
tapping his foot and sighing loudly. The cottage wasn't that large
and she could now only be hesitating or double-checking her
appearance before answering the door, either way it reinforced the
fact that she was nervous and wary of him, that pleased him
much.

As the door opened he was most pleasantly surprised, the bitch
had gone to much trouble to dress and present herself for him and
the results were stunning. Her hair had been styled with care to
the way he liked, her face was made up and blood red lipstick,
glossy and sensual, coated her full lips. A tight and long sleeved
blouse hugged her slim waist and pulled harshly over her thrusting
breasts with three buttons open at the neck to give the faintest
hint of the beginning of her firm cleavage. The skirt was tight and
short, finishing mid way up her slender thighs to show the
beginnings of the tops of her black stockings. The woman bathed in
his obvious delight, beaming back a smile as his eyes roamed her
body greedily. That smile dropped from her face as the headmaster
pushed past her and stepped into her lounge without speaking. She
in turn eyed nervously the long thin can he carried in his hand as
she closed and locked the door.

"Stand here," he commanded in a firm and masterly tone. The
headmaster pointed with the cane to the spot on the floor that he
required her to move to and waited as the woman meekly
complied.

"Shoulders back, head up and chin out," he snapped in
irritation.

A little involuntary gasp escaped her lips and she
straightened her body as ordered.

"You want to learn, is that right?"

"Yes," she said a little too eagerly.

He broke a grin and leaned close to bring his face close to
her ear, a move designed to intimidate and to threaten.

"Your instruction begins tonight then, learn well my teasing
little harlot for I am a most demanding taskmaster when imparting
knowledge."

He paused and moved around to her front, standing close and
commandingly before the smaller woman. His tongue licked over his
lips greedily and his eyes searched the open neck of her blouse
lustfully. His tone was now one of teaching and
assessment.

"You like to be controlled, is that right?"

She tried to speak, her lips moved but no words
came.

"Answer me!" he shouted angrily.

The woman started at the suddenness and venom with which his
words were delivered.

"Yes," she stated nervously and flicked her eyes up
momentarily to gauge the depth of his anger.

He paused and his smile broadened to a knowing
grin.

"I thought so. You like to be ordered around and instructed to
fulfil menial tasks, is that right?"

She nodded her agreement.

"Does it excite you sexually to be manipulated?"

"Yes," she croaked in a nervous little voice.

He paused again, watching the woman blush at her admission
that she was subservient; her experiencing shame at admitting that
she became aroused by being controlled.

"Did you enjoy the spanking I gave you earlier
today?"

She swallowed and half-nodded.

"It was embarrassing," she squeaked hesitantly, "particularly
within the school..."

"Did you or did you not?" he raved impatiently, his face
flushing in anger at her inability to give him a direct
answer.

"Yes," she almost shouted back in her nervousness.

The headmaster stood silently, furthering his command over her
and revelling in her trembling fear of him.

"Learning comes in many forms and punishment always follows
failure to comply fully with my instructions," he
cautioned.

She nodded her acceptance, her wide eyes staring up at him and
filled with worshipping awe.

"I will train you, teach and guide you, all you have to do is
absorb that knowledge and comply with everything that I tell you to
do. Is that clear?"

Again the woman nodded, her reply was little more than a soft
whisper.

"Yes," she said.

He nodded and grunted his acceptance.

"Undo the next few buttons on your blouse, show your breasts
to me bitch."

Again she gasped, his words, the insult and the demeaning way
he was treating her struck accord deep within her.

Slowly her hands came up to her blouse, hesitating
tantalisingly at the join at the front. Her fingers trembled,
shaking in her nervousness and excitement; the long red-painted
fingernails eased the buttons slowly open to part the front of her
blouse. As the two halves of her blouse were pulled open the full
beauty of her firm breasts was revealed, the silky swelling orbs
pushed up and together by the little lacy black bra to form a tight
cleft of most appealing cleavage. She stood passively as he ogled
her mounds, his eyes seemed to bore down through into her body so
intense was his interest in them.

When he spoke again his voice was thick with arousal, his
throat dry and his need great, it was portrayed in the way his deep
voice cracked.

"The first lesson and the subject tonight is posture. Correct
posture will increase your commanding air and help to build
confidence in you that others will recognise. Remove your blouse
and skirt."

It took a moment for his last instruction to register in her
brain; the woman only began to comply as his threatening body
movement prompted her to do so. Under his scrutinising stare she
slipped the blouse off her shoulders and threw it aside, instantly
her fingers moved to release the catch on the waistband of her
skirt and it slipped down her body to crumple around her
ankles.

She stood now in just her underwear and black hold-up
stockings, the sensual black lace and thin wispy nylon contrasting
wonderfully against her pale creamy skin. The thin black bra strap
across her back and shoulders formed a most appealing little
harness that restrained her breasts, the black three-quarter cups
constricting the swelling orbs most delightfully. At the back, the
single thin thread of her panties pulled harshly down between the
cleft of her buttocks, separating them into two most tempting firm
mounds of desire.