Stealing From the Headmaster

This story was written in collaboration with Sam Vimes, who had read my previous Ms Kissme stories, Summoned by the Headmaster and Taken by the Headmaster, and wondered what would happen if this naughty teacher were to get drunk and steal the Headmaster's cane. We alternated the writing, bringing in his equally willful character of woman police constable Lindsay Laweles, who, it is fair to say, opened sweet little Kate's eyes in many ways! We had a lot of fun writing it and hope you enjoy it.

ONE - Broken Glass

With the curtains shut, Ms Kissme woke to an incessant beeping sound. Her brain was still numb from the wild hen night, celebrating her best friend's last night as a single woman. The irritating sound of the alarm finally stopped after repeated slapping and Kate slowly crawled out of bed, finding her sheets were inexplicably dirty. She had been drinking way too much last night and she felt like death. Who ever thought that a hen night on a Sunday would be a good idea? As she blearily scanned her room she recognised, with a sickening lurch of shock, an object that certainly didn't belong to her. The Headmaster's cane! It lay broken on the ground. Oh, no, she moaned to herself. I didn't do that did I? She closed her eyes and deeply regretted ever deciding to go out last night. If only she could remember what had happened.

Superintendent Brown was sitting at the dinner table, enjoying his morning newspaper and a nice cup of tea. The sound of his ringtone pulled him out of his musings and irritably he answered his mobile. 'Yes?', he snapped out, waiting for the caller to identify himself. 'Oh, hello Headmaster, how are things? A break in you say? Well, I will send a constable right away.'

Headmaster Hardwood continued, 'Superintendent, I would really appreciate if you could start off without any official paperwork. You see, the reputation of the Fitzwilliam School must be beyond reproach and I am keen not to attracting any negative press over this.'

The Superintendent frowned, 'No paperwork? That might be difficult,' Listening to the Headmaster, his face flushed bright red, 'There is no need to remind me of that, Headmaster! Police Constable Lindsay will arrive this morning to start her investigation,' and with that he violently pressed the disconnect button and send the mobile across the table. Mrs Brown entered the room, 'Everything all right, darling?' Avoiding eye contact he replied, 'Oh nothing to worry about, just a simple break in.'

Lindsay was happy to have been relieved from traffic duty. She didn't enjoy giving people tickets, it was not why she had joined the police. So, it was with great excitement that she received the phone call from Superintendent Brown, 'It is a special assignment, not a word to anyone and no, I repeat, no paperwork, is that understood?' Of course, she understood. No paperwork, what's not to like?

Soon after she had received the call from her Superintendent, Lindsay left by her patrol car. The road to the school quickly opened up before her, and she efficiently parked and stepped out to meet the Headmaster. Once in his presence, she immediately felt intimidated by him, even before he opened his mouth. There was just something about him. He smiled as she approached, 'Good morning, you must be PC Lindsay,' he nodded approvingly. Lindsay just smiled back, failing to think of what to say. Taking the lead, he slapped his hands together and said, 'Well, come along, please follow me. I will show you what we have found so far.'

TWO - Summoned to the Headmaster

Still foggy from the night before, Kate tried to piece together the evidence that was left strewn around her bedroom. Exhibit A - a broken cane. A cane that looked all too achingly familiar. Her cheeks clenched, remembering its harsh kiss wielded in the hands of her oh, so stern Headmaster, Mr Hardwood. But, surely, all canes look the same, don't they? Maybe this was just a novelty, a hen-night joke, because she was a teacher? But then there was Exhibit B, her favourite stiletto heels, badly scuffed and dusty, with one heel missing. Kate couldn't remember how she'd got home from the party, but she always took a cab, so how did she do that to her shoes? And finally, when Kate crawled into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, Exhibit C. She was a mess. Her 'Come to Bed Red' lipstick was smeared as though she'd been lip-locked with a lothario all night, her hair was mussed, her stockings ripped and laddered, and she had a shallow scratch along her right forearm. Well, she thought, no one can say that tight-laced Ms Kissme doesn't know how to have a good night out! Even if she couldn't remember a minute of it.

With the clock rudely reminding her it was Monday morning, she quickly stripped off yesterday's clothes and scrubbed herself clean in the shower. Within half an hour she was smartly dressed and put-together. Every inch the professional young teacher and demure role model her Headteacher expected of her. Slipping a banana into her briefcase (breakfast was the most important meal of the day) and sliding into her sensible heels, Kate left the house, ready for another fulfilling day educating the young minds in her care.

When she arrived at school, however, it was clear this was not just a normal day. The visitor's parking spot was occupied by a police car and the whole school seemed to be in a state of excitement. Opening the front door, Kate was greeted by Mrs Peasbody, PA to the Headmaster.

'Oh, Ms Kissme, have you heard? There was a break-in last night!' she gushed gleefully. Mrs Peasbody loved a bit of gossip and to be the bearer of bad news of this scale had clearly made her day.

Kate was shocked. A break in? Here? Who would do such a thing?

'Was anything taken, Mrs Peasbody? Was there any damage? I must go and check on my classroom. I'd hate for the children's books or displays to have been vandalised.'

'Oh no, Ms Kissme. The thief knew what they were doing. They broke into the Headmaster's office. A police officer is in with Mr Hardwood now going over the scene of the crime!' Mrs Peasbody said the last four words in a heavy whisper, like it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.

Well, exciting though this undoubtedly was, Kate had a classroom to set up and lessons to teach. She felt sure that Mr Hardwood was more than capable of handling the situation with the help of the professionals.

Kate had barely placed her briefcase on her desk when her name came over the tannoy. She was to report to Mr Hardwood's office immediately. Kate's heart lurched and her mouth went dry. Straight away her mind took her back to those two previous occasions when she'd been summoned to see the Headmaster for a dress code violation and ended up with blushing cheeks and... blushing cheeks after having to bend for his hand, paddle and cane. 'Pull yourself together, Kate', she told herself sternly. 'Today you are dressed exactly as Mr Hardwood stipulated'. The hem of her pencil skirt was sitting just below her knee and her blouse was buttoned to the neck under her pretty cardigan. Surely, there was nothing in which to find fault. This must be about an unrelated issue, probably to do with the break in.

Mrs Peasbody smirked as Kate presented herself at the Reception. She too remembered the last time Kate had been summoned, and although the door had been firmly closed, there was no doubt that she heard every last stroke that Mr Hardwood had placed on Kate's quivering cheeks.

'Ms Kissme is here to see you, Sir.'

Kate refused to be cowed by the crowing secretary. She walked smartly to the door and knocked firmly.

'Come,' Mr Hardwood's deep voice summoned her, once again, through the thick oak panelled door.

Stepping inside, Kate's eyes were immediately drawn to Mr Hardwood, an imposing man who was old enough to be Kate's father, a fact that was evident in the silver that streaked his temples and his neat, dark beard. Older, and with a commanding presence, he was still in the prime of his life. His impressive physique was maintained by regularly playing racquetball with the Head of PE, if Mrs Peasbody's gossip was to be believed. And after experiencing the power of his swing, Kate was very much inclined to believe it.

Mr Hardwood fixed her with a piercing look, as though he too was reliving their previous encounter, right here, before this very desk. Immediately, and without knowing why, Kate felt guilty, as though she needed to atone for her sins. She felt the blush colouring her cheeks and reaching down her neck.

Forcing her eyes away from his all-seeing gaze, Kate focused over the Headmaster's shoulder, specifically to the mount on the wall behind his desk that held his cane. Or had held his cane, because that dreaded implement was no longer there. The fiery blush drained from Kate's cheeks in moments, leaving her pale and shaken. Oh, dear Lord, what had she done last night?

'Ms Kissme!'

Kate nearly squeaked in shock as Mr Hardwood's booming voice snapped her out of her horrified musings.

'I have summoned you here today...'

Oh no, this was it. He knows! He knows that somehow his favourite cane has ended up in pieces on my bedroom floor!

'... to introduce you to the officer in charge of the incident that occurred last night,' he continued, his eyes never leaving her guilty face. 'May I present PC Lindsay. I have appointed you as her school liaison for the duration of her investigation.'

Finally realising that they were not alone, Kate turned to the police officer with a gasp. PC Lindsay was the most stunning young woman Kate had ever seen.

THREE - The Investigation

Lindsay smiled as she introduced herself, her hand outstretched, 'Police Constable Lindsay Laweles.' Ms Kissme was so relieved that the Headmaster hadn't brought her into accuse her that she cleared her throat, flustered, "Ms Kate Kissme, how nice to have the police looking into this unfortunate incident."

The Headmaster immediately corrected her and with a commanding voice promptly stated, 'A criminal act of trespass, a break in, a burglar most likely, who will most certainly will be brought to justice, one way or the other, Ms Kissme, not a mere incident at all. PC Laweles has full access to the school grounds, and I am confident she will get to the bottom of this.' And with that, he promptly turned around and left poor Kate alone with PC Lindsay.

Lindsay was excited to start with her new investigation after her mundane existence on traffic duty. 'Shall we meet this afternoon, after all the students have left?' Lindsay asked. Kate still couldn't remember what had happened last night and was feverishly trying to fill in the blanks. She immediately agreed, happy that she could at least have some time to think things over.

As Lindsay strolled across the school grounds, she found herself thinking of Ms Kissme, wondering why she seemed so absent when they met. Almost nervous, she had to say. She made a mental note to try and get some background information on this Ms Kissme. She was way too an attractive lady to be just a teacher - she certainly didn't look like any teacher she had ever had.

After walking the grounds and finding and inspecting the broken window, she entered the school at the main entrance and talked to Mrs Peasbody, whom she decided was a terrible gossip so would know exactly what had been broken and lost. She was also only too happy to share with Lindsay, what she thought had happened. Disaffected youths was her theory. Nothing a good dose of the cane wouldn't pit right, she firmly believed. When she had finished expounding her theory, she looked very content and a little too happy.

After that, Lindsay spoke to the janitor, who didn't have much to say for himself, although he did spend their whole conversation fixated on her breasts, rather than meeting her eyes. He merely shrugged and put it off to some of the rowdier students getting up to no good.

After she'd completed her interviews, she sat in the Headmaster's office writing her notes as she waited for the delightful Ms Kissme to arrive.

FOUR - Hangxiety

Kate had spent the day desperately piecing together the events of the night before. She'd found odd whisps of memories coming back to her in the middle of a lesson, and what she recalled did nothing to soothe her troubled conscience.

The first snippet had hit her on the way back to her class, when she'd walked past the plinth that normally contained a marble bust of the school's founder, a rather dour Victorian philanthropist named Dr Thaddeus Fitzwilliam. The Fitzwilliam School kept firmly to his founding principles of a strong work ethic, respect for authority, rigorous physical exercise and the unflinching use of corporal punishment as being the key to a wholesome education. Female teachers must be unmarried and were expected to 'comport themselves with the decorum befitting a demure and respectable role model for the students in their care'.

Kate was naturally a rule-follower, so living up to the school's strict code of conduct was not usually a challenge for her, but sometimes the wickedly rebellious streak she had buried deep within her came to the fore. This was one of the reasons she had insisted on her title being Ms, instead of Miss. Although she was unmarried, she liked the suggestion that she was her own woman and more than just some little Miss. However, this small act of rebellion was nothing compared to what she might do with her inhibitions lowered under the influence of alcohol.

And so, it was with a feeling of horror, that Kate took in the crime scene tape around the empty plinth and her addled mind flashed back to a moment the previous night when her hands had found purchase on Dr Fitzwilliam's rather generous ears and her lips had been locked in what could only be described as a 'passionate smooch' with the esteemed gentleman. This surely was the reason that her lipstick had been so enthusiastically smudged this morning. But what had become of the head? Had it too gone missing or had the lovely PC Laweles removed it as evidence? Could she be traced by matching her lip colour, or worse still, her DNA? She'd seen CSI and knew the guilty 'unsub' never stood a chance against their advanced lab procedures.

Kate felt lightheaded and slightly nauseous as she faced her class for registration, expecting to be called out at any moment. But, surely, if they suspected her of any wrongdoing she would have been accused and called to account in Mr Hardwood's office? No, Kate told herself firmly, no one suspected, and she needed to pull herself together before her own guilty demeanour gave her away.

By the end of the school day, Kate's nerves were stretched thin and she'd bitten her thumbnail to the quick, a nervous habit she'd had since she was a little girl. Part of her desperately wanted to go to Mr Hardwood and confess everything, to beg him for forgiveness. She'd promise him anything if only he could get the charges dropped and protect her from prosecution. But a bigger part of her was too ashamed, dreading the look of disappointment on his face when he found out what she had done, not to mention the fear of whatever merciless punishment he would mete out on her defenceless flesh when he knew the extent of her crimes.

Kate just wanted to go home and hide under the covers, but the time had come, and she had a meeting to attend with PC Laweles, so once again she forced herself to walk back to the Headmaster's office to face the music.

FIVE - The Interrogation

Ms Kissme carefully entered the room hoping PC Lindsay had somehow forgotten all about their meeting, however, this was not to be.

'Good afternoon, Kate,' her voice originated from behind the Headmaster's desk.

Ms Kissme was surprised at both the fact that PC Laweles used her first name and that she stood where the Headmaster usually presided, standing imposingly behind a desk that she remembered well. With the light behind her, she couldn't help but see the shapely figure that was hiding underneath Lindsay's police uniform.

Abruptly Lindsay rounded the desk and walked up to Ms Kissme. She smiled and whispered in her ear, 'You know this room well, don't you?'

Ms Kissme blushed bright red. Oh my, even she knows about... I can't believe Mr Hardwood would have told her! But Lindsay didn't leave her much time to think about it and confidently continued, 'These paddles, have been used recently have they not?' She emphasised her question by flexing one of which that she held in her hand. Ms Kissme was taken by complete surprise and instead of being able to formulate a defence of some sort, she froze. Her eyes welded to the ground and her mind blank, PC Lindsay walked back to the front of the desk and repeated her question, but Kate was lost for words.

Lindsay hefted the weight of the paddle in her hand, believing that Ms Kissme was shamelessly ignoring her question and that feeling was feeding her desire to do something about it. She stalked forward, circling behind the mute Ms Kissme. No sooner had her nostrils flared from irritation, she raised the paddle and landed it hard on her bum.

Immediately Ms Kissme came back to life, her eyes widened, and she lurched forward, steading herself by grasping onto the desk of her beloved Headmaster.

Lindsay had felt and heard the paddle strike Ms Kissme, causing a loud, sharp retort to explode into life. It made her skin crawl with excitement and she hungrily restated her question, 'You experienced these, didn't you? Right in here, with whom?' The questions she had written down had been wiped away, shredded and painted over. She had remembered nothing of what she had jotted down. All she felt was a strange pulsating energy flowing through her body.

SIX - A Brush with the Law

Kate couldn't believe that once again she was bent over Mr Hardwood's desk with her plump cheeks smarting. It seemed that this was to be her natural position in life, learning a firm lesson at the hand of a strict disciplinarian. However, Kate had never imagined that the lovely PC Laweles would be the one wielding the punishment implement. And for such a slender young lady, she certainly packed quite a wallop into that one strike.

Kate, now red and flustered, made to straighten up and confront the beautiful officer, but found herself pushed firmly back into place by a small but powerful hand between her shoulder blades.

'Answer the question, Kate,' she repeated, 'Do you, or do you not, have intimate knowledge of this paddle? I advise you to tell the about truth when you reply, otherwise the consequences for you will be that much more severe!' and with that, Lindsay punctuated her statement with another resounding whack.

'Okay, okay! I admit it. Mr Hardwood has punished me with that paddle before,' Kate cried out, 'But I don't see how that has anything to do with your investigation. Please Constable Laweles, you must stop. Surely, this is highly irregular!'

Kate struggled to stand up and regain some of her dignity, but Lindsay wasn't going to allow it. She had a taste for power now and she could sense that Kate wasn't telling her the whole truth. The fact that she had found herself mesmerised by the way Kate's generous ass had jiggled so enticingly with each firm stroke may also have fed into Lindsay's fervour for the interrogation to continue.

'Need I remind you that Mr Hardwood has given me free reign to conduct this investigation in any manner I see fit and has promised me the cooperation of all of his staff. So, tell me, Kate,' she probed, 'Why the Headmaster felt the need to punish this naughty little backside with his paddle?' she continued, one hand in the small of Kate's back to hold her in position like a butterfly pinned to a mount, the paddle idly caressing the taut material of her skirt as it stretched over her vulnerable hillocks.