Private School Matters Ch 04

Chapter Four

I sit in class, staring at my professor. I'm trying not to be obvious about it, but it's been two long days. I want to be with him alone. Just ten minutes. He wouldn't even need to pleasure me. I would go to my knees and...

Oops! He's frowning at me. It's almost like he knows when I'm having randy thoughts. I look back down at my notes. This is maddening! I just want to get this over with. And then? In my suddenly singularly focused mind, I have all kinds of fantasies. Most of them come down to me being held by him in his strong arms. With him on top. I scribble two lines at the bottom of the notebook. I put a parenthesis at the end. Looking more closely, I notice I've drawn a cock in the blank space. Jesus girl! Leanne leans over, shaking her head. I think she's starting to suspect. I just mark through it and continue to try to read.

The bell finally sounds. As we're dismissed for the day, I rise with little enthusiasm. I get to see him for an hour, and not two words pass between us. As I head for the door, I hear Angus clear his throat. No one else looks but me, of course. Even though he's frowning, I realize my professor wants to talk. Continuing outside, I act like I'm tying my shoe. Leanne passes, brushing me, but I keep my head down. The fewer questions, the better. After the crowd passes, I look back to the open door. What did he want? Not quite four. Tea or me? As nonchalantly as I can, I stroll back in. "Yes, Angus?"

The redheaded man's frown etches even deeper into his face. "You must stop this, Miss Newberry. You can't act like a..."

"Lovesick schoolgirl?" I say, with more than a bit of teasing.

"Yes!" He waves at the corridor. "You kinna realize the danger we're in?"

"Nothing will happen before the end of school. You said..."

"I was wrong, Evie. Handley isn't acting right. There's something verra strange about the authorities here. You must be on your best behavior."

I sigh. "Eight more days?"

"Please. Just; act like you don't care. Act like the others."

I raise an eyebrow. "You have seen the other girls falling all over you?"

He finally smiles. "I'll ignore them as well."

"Fine, Professor. Will that be all?"

I see his gaze drift below my eye line, and I put my hands behind my back. A little shift of the hips makes my skirt swish above my knees. I'm just an innocent student waiting for a request from her professor. I see his jaw clench.

"No, Miss Newberry. Your; excused."

I turn on my heel and let the skirt flare just as it did in front of him last week. I'm sure he's watching every step as I swing myself out the door. Eight excruciating days. I'm sure one of the two of us will break. Well, I already have. All it would take is a nod from him, and I would find a broom closet so fast.

Practically skipping down the hall, I have less to worry about now that Handley isn't patrolling them anymore. And Gail? She's been more than polite to me lately. I guess taking care of the older man helped her out as well. Leaving the front entrance, mom's car is exactly where it's expected, and I climb in.

"You seem a bit chipper, young lady."

I shrug. "Just another long day at school."

She starts to pull onto the neighborhood road. "Were you held up by that Scotsman, MacInnes?"

I can tell she's trying not to be obvious. "Yes, mom. He's my form master after all."

"Hmmm. Maybe I should get a meeting with him to talk about..."

Jeezus! "No, mom. It's okay. I just want to give modeling a go over the summer, and if it doesn't work out, then I'll go to university. Maybe I can do both?"

My mom's brown eyes look at me sardonically. "I know how you are getting sidetracked. If you go to university, you have to be fully committed. I fell in love with your father and couldn't focus. I had to get a bit older before graduating."

"So, let me get this out of the way then."

My mom's hands grip the wheel. I could tell she was still dead set against it. Maybe it would be a good idea to get her and Angus together. I then remember her reaction to him and think better of it.

After we get home, I drop the issue and start on my chores. Dive into them more like it. What I really want to do is go to my room. But why? I'd just get more frustrated. Nothing's like being in the same room with him. God! I'm fucking obsessed! Soon it'll be dinner, and I'll watch the tele. Maybe after that I can actually study without being distracted by thoughts about what might lie under that kilt. Fuck! I'm doing it again! Looking up from the poor job I'm doing, I notice mom has been on the phone.

"Dear? Could you cook for yourself tonight?"

"Why? What's up?"

"I have to go to a; meeting."

"Again?"

My mom tries to look nonchalant. "It's about what happened to you Monday."

"It's okay. I'm not..."

"It's not okay!" She turns away from me. "You shouldn't have had to go through a paddling."

I stare at her as she picks up her keys. "What did you do?"

"Don't you worry. I'll be back before long." With that, she leaves.

I dump the rubbish, wondering what mom's up to. Not a council meeting, I'm sure. Someone with some pull with the authorities? My mind goes back to how she was acting Monday morning. Something is happening. Me, the constables, and; Handley? Turning to the kitchen, I'm left with my own wandering thoughts. Angus is worried, but he has the pictures. I need to talk with him...

Wait a second.

I'm all alone. Unsupervised for who knows how long. What to do? What to do? I look at the phone book and grin. Flipping it open, I turn to the M's. There's only one of him in this town I'm sure. MacInnes, A. The phone number I don't care about. It's his address. Gladden Way? Is that near Leanne? Writing it down, I ring my best friend up. Her mom answers.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mrs. Thursdale."

"Oh. It's you."

Leanne's mom's voice knocks the wind out of my sails. Even just getting a punishment at school has caused the social circles to align against me. "May I speak with Leanne, please?" I say it in my most respectful voice. There's a healthy pause. Finally, she calls out to her daughter reluctantly.

"Hey Evie."

"Hey. Sorry to put you on the spot, but have you heard of Gladden Way?"

"Yeah. About four blocks over from me. Near the school."

"Oh, yeah! I should've remembered that."

"What's over there that you had to call me?"

I can't help myself. "Just going to see if I can win a bet."

"Huh? Wait...Evie!"

"Byyiiiee."

Hanging up, I go to the garage and grab my bike. The poor thing has seen some miles since I hadn't bothered getting a license. Rolling out onto the road, I stand on the pedals and accelerate quickly. I only slow down to make the first turn, where I nearly run down old Mr. Davies, our groundskeeper from school, who appears to be out for a walk. He looks at me in surprise, but then grins, pointing downward.

"Careful there, Miss Newberry!"

I smile back in apology as I pass. "Sorry! I will be!" Then I see it. My skirt is rippling behind me. I'm in such a rush that I didn't change out of my school uniform! Sitting down, I tuck the knee-length material under me. I must have given him quite a show of my white pants! Geez girl!

Proceeding at a breakneck pace, I wind my way back towards school. A few blocks short, I skid to a halt, only a little out of breath. Hopping off, I grip my handlebars in nervousness and begin walking the bike, counting the houses. These are small, mostly one-bedroom homes built in the 50's. Not a Laird's Fastness, to be sure, but perfect for a bachelor Scotsman.

Coming to a stop, I stand nervously on the pavement. He's there. Oh, there's no lights on or anything. It's too early for that. I just have a feeling. It beckons me. Lowering the kickstand, I take a step up the walk. Suddenly, I realize that I really don't know what to say. Was I just going to talk with him? That's kinda what I was thinking before I started. Now that I'm here, my feelings are in turmoil. I'm stupid, stupid, stupid! I need to turn around. Still, I stand there, my feet rooted in place, as the front door opens. The bearded Scotsman frowns at me. He's so angry. I start to grin sheepishly, but I know that I've mucked it up royally.

"Get in here before the whole neighborhood starts wagging their tongues."

For a moment, I don't move. Is he serious? He's not sending me away?

"Get inside, Miss Newberry."

I respond to my professor's gruff command. Quickly running up with my bike, I stop inside the small entryway. The door closes, and Professor MacInnes stands over me, fuming.

"Of all the hair-brained ideas! If anyone knew... What of your mother?!"

"She's at a meeting for a few hours."

"And what exactly were you going to do here for 'a few hours'?!"

He places his hands on his hips. Today, he's just wearing a dress shirt and slacks. Fairly tight fitting...

"Look up here, Miss! Now tell me what you were thinking!"

It's close in this room. Having him this near and alone has rendered me speechless. Well, unfortunately for me, not completely. "I want to see..." I cover my mouth with both hands. I was about to blurt out the most stupidest thing!

"Miss Newberry! What did I say after class earlier?!"

"To ignore you."

"And to not act like a lovesick schoolgirl!" He takes a deep breath. "So get on your bike and ride back home." He places a hand on the doorknob.

"What about our feelings?"

He pauses. "It dinna matter. It's wrong."

"No, sir." I reach out for his sleeve. The feel of his muscles just in his forearm make my heart skip a beat. "I can't explain it. Everything's been so weird since Monday, but I know one thing."

"What's that, Miss?"

He's looking at me now. I grab a hold of his hand and draw it away from the handle. The touch is so warm. The heat flows through me and right up my collar. There are no words...

"You're blushing, Evelyn."

In my sudden giddiness, I laugh. "So are you, sir!"

The pale man rubs his beard. "I guess you can see right through me."

"It's not seeing." Every second we're touching, the sensation gets more intense. The rest of the world is fading into insignificance.

"Evelyn."

"Sir?"

"This is impossible. I feel..."

"Everything."

"Aye, lass. Even so; we can't. I can't break a promise I made years ago. Ye kin?"

I sense it. That core goodness. The rest of him is swirling in turmoil, but that little bit of saneness anchors my professor. Yet there's something... A need to be in control. Coming here made him quite mad. He releases my hand, and the small room goes back to normal. Is a heart rate of 130 normal? Taking a steadying breath, I nod. "Yes, Professor MacInnes."

His eyes narrow at my formality. "And so ye see how wrong it is coming here?"

That's all the opening I need. I place my hands behind my back and stare up at him. "What I did was very wrong, sir." Those eyes are boring into me. I can tell that core is wobbling.

"Miss Newberry..."

"I guess I'll never learn my lesson then." With that, I shrug and turn for the door. At least I start to when my upper arm is grabbed firmly. In a blink of an eye, I grow very warm again. This time, it's different. Instead of my face warming, which I'm blushing just fine by the way, the heat goes downward. His anger? No. His frustration! Something in my lower tummy begins to churn at the thought of what I'm doing to my professor. Speaking of that: I'm being drug into the man's living room.

"You're an insufferable lass! I want to..." He actually looks quite flustered. "I can't; but I should..."

"Punish me?"

"Aye!" He shakes his head and starts pacing. "I mean, nay! I mean; I don't trust myself. I would..."

"What would you do?" I bite my lip, and it's no act. A faint tingling starts somewhere near my tummy and, and...my backside! He's circling me, almost lost in thought.

"Handley was up to something. Why did he insist on restraining you?" The obviously conflicted man stops, and his grey-green eyes suddenly focus on me. "Of course! I'm so thick!"

"What, sir?" He doesn't answer. The big man abruptly turns and leaves me alone in his living room. Confused, I glance around, noticing most of the space is furnished with somewhat old furniture. Cloth covered sofa. Wooden coffee table. Work desk. Nothing too out of the... Blimey.

Up behind the desk, hanging on the wall is a heavy sword supported by several large hooks. A clan tartan drapes as a woollen backdrop. I walk over and see it's blackwatch, with a yellow line woven intermittently. I reach up for the basket hilt of the sword, and my fingertips run along the guard. I can feel its age. Was it a hundred years old? Two hundred? Did Angus ever wield it?

"My grandda's."

I jerk away. How did he get so close without my knowing? "Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It last saw battle over sixty years ago at Ypres. Well, a talisman is more like it. Caedmon's been said to grant good luck and long life to it's wielder."

I reach out for it again and touch the blade. The edge is still quite sharp.

"Careful!"

The tall man moves next to me, but I show him that I'm unhurt. Smiling, I lightly touch the hanging cloth. He's watching me closely now. "Clan MacInnes."

"A strong and proud lineage."

That I have no doubt of, if my professor here is any example. I turn to him, feeling that draw again, but then my eyebrows rise in surprise as I see what's in his hands. A long coil of thin rope. "Sir?"

"Your punishment. The only way I can do so, without you punishing me."

"Me? Punish you?"

"Aye. Your words. Your touch. If you want my discipline, then this is the way it will be."

My teasing. It's torture for a passionate man like him. "What are you going to do?"

"Something very appropriate for you, Miss Newberry. But what occurred in Professor Handley's office can't happen here."

The mentioning of my former deputy headmaster makes me shudder. To be treated that way. "What he did to me..."

"He will never lay a hand on you again."

"But you will?" A dark expression clouds his face. "I'm sorry. My teasing comes naturally."

He raises the rope, holding it loosely. "Do you fear me, Evelyn?"

In fact, I'm beginning to shake. Was it out of fear of him? No, but it's not just excitement either. It's fear of the unknown. To make myself helpless to this man who's looking down on me so seriously. His hands are only a millimeter away. "You won't hurt me?"

"I promise you that."

"Promise?"

"Tell me a word. Something nonsensical."

"What, sir?"

"Something you normally wouldn't say."

I glance around the room, and then my eyes settle on the tartan next to me. "How about; Plait." He smirks at my obvious reference.

"Alright. Anything I do that makes you feel fear or pain, you say that. Understand? No or stop won't do."

"Yes, sir." My heart jumps again as I feel the first touch of the soft rope at one of my wrists. Under his light grasp, I surrender myself to him. That nervous, yet very sweet, surrender to someone I desire. He turns me around and draws my other hand behind my back. The loops go round and round, and in less than a minute, I know I can't escape. He's careful, and they're not uncomfortable or too tight. One last turn, and my professor steps back.

"Anything to say, Miss Newberry?"

The muscular teacher is waiting to see if I'll stop him. Just a word. I don't give it. I lean back to the wall and find the tartan is soft and well worn. My heart thuds, knowing he could just push into me and it would be all over. The professor steps back, and I see he's staring at me openly.

"I'm sorry, but you standing there..."

It's almost as if his eyes are flaring crimson as they hungrily rove over me. That sends a shiver down my spine. "Sir. Plait."

The captivated man breathes deeply. "I know. Not a good start." Without another word, he turns to his desk. "Tell me, are ye serious about what you said about modeling? Not going to university?"

I'm very confused. What is he doing over there? "Umm... Yes. Mom's fighting me about it, but I'll still try to model."

"Aye, that's good."

He's fiddling with something. "What are you doing, sir?"

"Ever since you started talking about modelling and photography at the beginning of the term, I just couldn't get it out of my head." The Form Master turns back, and I can finally see he's loading film into a camera. The same one he had in Handley's office!

"Sir? What are you doing?"

"Your punishment."

"What?!"

"You'll be my first model. This way, I'm in control of the situation, and things won't get out of hand."

The film's in place, and the tall man sets the camera down on the table, pointing at me. My nervousness is growing. "What will you do with them?"

"I will need a new career, I kin, and you will like these. Have you ever done a real photo test?"

"Just what I've done with Tom. I've posed and such."

"Then not like this. Although this SLR is pretty good, we don't have the lighting for crisp shots. It will require the model to be very still. There we are. Timer is set." He walks up and stops a few feet away. Then the tall professor folds his arms and looks sternly at me.

I feel very nervous now. "Sir?"

Click.

He points a finger at me, but doesn't move any further. Oh! I'm starting to get it. I can't help but grin.

"Wipe that smile off, Miss!"

I'm startled by his forcefulness!

Click.

"Oh." I glance over at the camera, but he steps in close. The professor raises my chin with a finger, and I'm forced to stare up at him.

"Don't look at the camera. Eyes on me. What we're creating here is fantasy."

Click.

I sense his hands move down to my tie. He quickly unloops it. "The individual shots are telling a story."

Click.

The tie is drawn out from under my collar. He holds it up for me to see. My heart beats fast. How far is this going? Again, he holds very still.

Click.

Dropping it to the floor, the professor takes my top button between his fingers. Just the intimation of him doing that act sends a tingling past my tensing chest, straight down somewhere near my belly. This is going so slowly. So much so that I'm getting very hot under the collar! Again, I almost break the worried girl look. The button pops open.

Click.

His hands march down for each shot. I don't move. I want him to hurry, but he won't touch or caress me. I fight the urge to push my chest out as fingers work between them. Finally, he pulls the bottom of my blouse out from under the skirt. The last button is undone, and I wait frozen. His hands grasp my top, and I hold my breath as it parts, revealing my lacy bra.

Click.

"You're so lovely, Evelyn."

He's using my first name more and more. I use his. His eyes are looking at me. More like boring into my soul. I want him to kiss me, and I once again blush violently. My feelings are becoming so overwhelming that I have to look away.

Click.

He bends down before me, and I begin to quiver as his hands move to the button on my pleated skirt. He makes short work of that, and the zipper comes down. I watch his hands. Those big hands are stripping me, one drawn-out step at a time.

Click.

"Halfway," the man says very quietly. He must be counting the shots. My skirt falls a bit, which just shows the top of my matching knickers.

Click.

He releases the garment, and it pools at my feet. Holding his position, those eyes study me. They are drinking me in. The gaze drops to the lower half of my knickers. Can he see how wet I'm getting?

"You're doing well. Just remain still." He gingerly touches the frills, and I tense. Anticipating something more, I stare down wide-eyed.

Click.