The characters in this story are consenting adults. St. Ann's School exists in the imagination of two creative lovers. If you enjoyed reading these characters as much as I enjoyed writing them, please leave suggestions for what you'd like to see them up to next!
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-The Headmaster-
"WHAT am I going to do with you, Miss Connolly?"
I sighed heavily as I pushed my chair away from the desk, dropping Sister Catherine's latest write up of Megan Connolly in exasperation. She was one of the most difficult students to deal with at this school. Bright enough, B+'s and A-'s across the board, admired by her peers and truly a sweet girl. The very same one who baked Sister Brigid cookies and brought flowers when her cat died. But, even at 18, she just could not put up with even slightly strict authority figures, as her latest snarky remarks to Sister Catherine, one of our older school instructors, showed. And having met Mr. and Mrs. Connolly, I could see why they sent Megan off to join us every year.
"I could probably charge them double tuition and they'd pay it in a heartbeat," I said aloud, to no one in particular.
I decided to take a walk to clear my head, or maybe find some inspiration as to how to deal with Megan. I walked out into the beautiful Indian summer afternoon, wandering the sprawling campus. Whether by accident or by design, my legs carried me into a small grove in the wooded area at the western edge of the grounds, a beautiful, sleepy, secluded spot I would come to to escape from my office. I doubted most people at St. Ann's even knew about this place, and I was perfectly happy to keep it that way.
When I got close to the grove, I heard an unusual rustling sound. Concerned it might be some kind of animal, I slowed down and crept gently toward the clearing. What I saw made my jaw drop.
-The Pupil-
God, I was so wet. I pawed my left breast as my other hand ran quick, gentle rings on my clit. I needed to get off so badly, yet I was happy to take my time. Not very often I could draw out a masturbation session like this in the dormitory. I'd been to the brink three times now, backing off the precipice each time. Nothing felt quite as good as releasing all that tension after edging myself like this. Sometimes I'd even see how long I could hold out before losing control. My personal best was 15. I shrugged off my blouse and dropped my bra to the ground, giving myself unfettered access to my medium-large, tear drop boobs. I decided to cool myself down some, and stopped rubbing my clit and gave attention to each breast. Four times to the brink of orgasm now, I thought I'd settle in and see if I could break that record. That changed quickly.
"MISS CONNOLLY!"
My eyes flew open as I sat bolt upright, frantically trying to cover my exposed breasts with one arm as I pulled my skirt back down over my groin. Headmaster Duncan stepped into the clearing.
"Just what do you think you're doing??" He asked angrily.
"I-I-I...n-nothing Headmast-"
"Save it. Do you think this is conduct benefitting a St. Ann's lady? I come here to figure out how to deal with your latest back talk and THIS is what I find?
I felt my skin burning hot and tried to stammer out a response.
"Quiet. You know you have to be punished, yes?"
I nodded sheepishly and looked down.
"Stand up, Megan." I looked back up, eyes bulging.
"Stand UP. Don't make me ask again."
I stood up, using my arms to cover my breasts.
"Please," the headmaster said bitingly, "don't feign modesty with me now. What I just saw was anything but modest.
The headmaster's tone was commanding, I wasn't about to argue. I dropped my arms to my sides, averting my eyes.
-The Headmaster-
My eyes drank in her young, lithe body as she stood there trembling slightly. Long, honey blonde hair framed a classically beautiful face, with big blue eyes and the faintest dusting of freckles. She gnawed her big, pouty lower lip and she stared intently into the dirt. Her big, full, pert breasts stood proud on her slim frame. Short, fat, succulent pink nipples capped off each one. Her long torso had a taut, firm belly that led to the low waist of her "regulation" uniform skirt, sitting askew on her hips.
"What were you just doing, Miss Connolly?"
"T-touching myself, Sir."
I nodded. "Sins of the flesh are tempting, at your age. Why were you touching yourself? You're a bad liar Megan, so don't try to pull anything past me."
Her eyes drifted off into memory. "I was with Bobby Riordan, sir."
"And?" I asked sternly.
"We...kissed."
"You're a bad liar Megan, that includes not telling the whole truth."
"He touched my breasts sir." After a beat she added, "Under my bra."
"And what else?"
"He...he wanted to touch me, under my skirt sir. But I stopped him, honest."
"He tried to touch your pussy." The word seemed an electric shock to her. "Let me hear you say it."
"He tried to touch my...pussy."
"Better. It's good to know you have a modicum of self control. Take off your skirt Ms. Connolly."
She froze.
"Take off your skirt Megan, you won't like it if I do it for you."
That hurried her right along. She wiggled her skirt down to the ground and stood in her simple pink lace cheeky style shorts. They were noticeably darker in front.