So, it's been some time since I last wrote. The following story kinda breaks a few of my own "rules". Firstly, I usually work hard to avoid some of the big leaps of faith that some of these stories ask the reader to make, and which often erode the believability of the story. Secondly, I do not condone such action in real life as this clearly is unacceptable. But this was written initially for only 1 person to read, in response to a few comments prompted by some very lovely erotic imagery she shared with me recently. Call it my first role play in the teacher/student genre. So, I may have cut a corner or two since in that fantasy bubble she and I share, such considerations are less important. My apologies for those who may feel let down by this. Thanks for reading this and for any comments you choose to leave.
*****
"Come" came the terse response to her tentative knock on the heavy panelled oak door. With a sigh she summoned the courage and pressed the handle, cringing inside as she pushed the door and entered.
"Ah, miss Dean, good of you to join me! Did you get lost on the way?"
She stood transfixed, barely over the threshold of his office and heard the big door swing shut behind her with an ominous clunk, and the sarcasm of his comment stung as she sneaked a glance at the big clock above the old fireplace, suddenly regretting her trepidatious and sloth-like walk to his study after the last bell of the day.
"Lessons finished 15 minutes ago, and you should really know I really don't like to be kept waiting?"
Eventually she managed to mumble a simple "No Sir" response, no longer sure of which question she was answering, and the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed to suddenly feel a whole lot worse.
"Please step forward and look at me when I'm talking to you!" His comment made her realise she'd been studiously avoiding looking at him, and stepped forward to stand in front of the desk.
But as reticent as she was to look at him, her eyes darted furtively to the far side of the room and the apparatus that her eyes couldn't seem to resist, and beyond that the closed cupboard, the contents of which were legendary but reserved for senior 6th form students of the all-girl school, such as herself.
With a final effort she dragged her eyes away, swallowed and looked up to meet his gaze as he sat at his desk looking over his monitor at the pensive school girl that stood nervously wringing her hands together.
"So here we are again, Ms. Dean. Do you remember what I told you would happen if you were summoned here again?"
She watched him closely, hating the mild reasonable measured tone of his voice, eyes drawn to the tailored shirt, and the waistcoat of his suit, with the hint of a brightly coloured tie peeking out above the neckline, and his dark eyes and the look that seemed to penetrate her very soul and see her darkest secrets.
"Erm, no Sir!"
"Ms Dean, come come, Please do not play coy with me, You are in enough trouble as it is, and your tardiness and selective amnesia are just making it worse! So please try again."
She wrung her hands again, feeling her stomach flip, her face start to blush, and the strange warmth that was starting to make its presence felt towards the base of her spine. She blushed even more and dropped her eyes to look at the leather pad on his desk, and longingly at the glass of water that her suddenly oh so dry mouth desired so much.
With a blink and dry lips, she finally mumbled "You told me I would be punished Sir!" And she felt her stomach churn and her pussy clamp, and the corresponding warmth spreading at both the humiliation of her statement and her fascination and perverse thrill of the very threat. Her eyes were drawn to glance quickly again at the piece of furniture, which filled her with both dread and thrill at the same time.
His chuckle startled her, and she risked a glance at him. "Actually, I think I told you that since you were now senior 6th you would be strapped or caned." The threat hung there between them and she felt her pussy contracted at the words and for a moment she worried her knees would give way completely.
"And I can see you are somewhat fascinated by the punishment stand Ms Dean. You doubtless had that to look forward to based on the comments from my staff, but I regret other more serious events have overtaken us".
She flinched inside and felt her breath catch at his ominous statement and her eyes followed his movements as he shook the mouse and peered at his monitor screen, clicking the mouse button.
After a short delay a printer whirred into life and spat out 2 pages onto the return of his desk and as he stood and reached for the papers, revealing the tailored suit pants that matched the waistcoat, and her eyes drew to his rump and lap, suddenly day dreaming about what it would feel like to be draped over it for her punishment, and the warmth now starting to make its presence felt more noticeably at her sex. She squeezed and clenched to try to make it stop but the unmistakable damp feeling just got worse.
He held out one of the sheets for her, and she nervously stepped forward and took the offered sheet.
"Please sit." He instructed and pointed to the single chair set directly in front of his desk. She quickly stepped around and made to sit, pulling the hem of her skirt downwards awkwardly, watching the dark pools of his eyes following her belated attempt at modesty.
"Miss Dean, the school is growing very concerned over your behaviour. You were once a model student, you are intelligent and bright, but your lower 6th year showed a deterioration in behaviour, and while your grades were satisfactory, your teachers have noted a more recent worsening of your behaviour, and our previous conversation seems to have gone unheeded."
He picked up the sheet in front of him and waved it, and drew her attention and she looked at the copy held tightly in the one hand that was not fidgeting with her skirt hem in a futile effort to make the skirt look longer and slightly more decent.
"This litany of complaints just dates from the last week! Continually late for your first period lessons, using your phone to text or e mail in lessons, and wearing increasingly provocative clothing that fails to meet uniform code even for 6th formers.
But as if that wasn't enough and far more seriously I've just this morning received an e mail complaint from the headmaster of the boys boarding school advising that you were caught "in flagrante Delicto" with one of boys Saturday night. He advises that you were found naked and under the influence of alcohol, kneeling and giving the young man in question a blow job. "
As her eyes scanned the document detailing the instances of complaints from her teachers, she flushed in shame and prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her whole at the mention of her weekend exploits that were never supposed to follow her back to school.
"Your behaviour here at school is bad enough, but to add such inappropriate sexual contact to the list makes this much more serious. You are very fortunate that the young man had turned 18 a few days earlier, otherwise this would be a police matter! What is wrong Hayley? Please tell me what is going on, that you are behaving so badly? What do you have to say for yourself?"
The reproach in his voice stung her as if he'd slapped her, but the hot shameful blush just washed over her, and all she could manage was a hoarse "I'm sorry sir, I don't know!"
"The internal school issues I can deal with, but the boys school incident is way beyond my authority. I think that I see no other option but to call your parents in for a notice of expulsion meeting."
The waves of panic hit her and suddenly the queasy feeling turned to full on nausea, while her vision went white like some bad top of the pops music video effect.
"Expelled? Oh no sir, no no no. You can't do that! Please sir?"
"I see no other way, and I certainly can't explain this to your parents in writing or an e-mail can I? So, I'll print the notice and you can give it to them this evening so they can arrange to come in urgently. And besides which it's not like you have offered any explanation, or mitigating circumstances."
The shortness of breath felt like someone was squeezing her heart. The thought of the shame of this being discussed with her parents, with herself present was suddenly too real. She suddenly felt trapped, unable to confess the curiosity that had driven her behaviour.