Two weeks later, Sarah found herself staring once again at her shoes. And not because she was in trouble again or anything like that, though the feeling was close. Like every other time she found herself standing in front of the headmaster's office with her fingers picking at the edges of her skirt, and if the familiar metal presence of her chastity belt had anything to say about that, then it certainly didn't help. Nor did the weight of the plug she was still wearing stuffed up her rear, and she shifted in place against the awkwardness of it. The fullness had become a little more bearable after the first couple days of course, but she still hadn't gotten used to the way it kept shifting about. Or the way it seemed to move from side to side every time she tried to run.
That was something for her to think about later once they were finished though, and so biting down on her lips she raised her hand to knock.
"Come in," a voice called out from inside.
As always, it came through like the sound of the ocean mixed with the distant rumbling of a storm. Carefully, she opened the door. The headmaster glanced up at her, his eyes peering out from behind his glasses, and he smiled as he waved for her to sit down.
Oh right, of course. Sarah eyed the hard wooden surface of the chair in front of her with a somewhat doubtful look. She had been naive not to expect at least an interview or two after what she had done.
"Don't worry, I don't bite," he said, "At least not for now. You're not here for another punishment, are you?"
"No sir," she mumbled.
"And I don't seem to have anything marked on my schedule either, so I assume you're here for something else," he said, "Not another instance of sticky fingers, I suppose?"
"Ah no. I was just...," she said again, "Well you see..."
It was only through a last-minute sense of self-preservation that she stopped herself from pressing her legs together as he looked on. That would not have turned out well at all. Instead, she forced herself to take in a deep breath as she slowly sat down. The chair made contact with her bottom, the shallow wooden curve of the non-existent padding rising up to form a ridge, and she winced as she felt the entire weight of her body resting against the base of the plug. Like an anvil balanced upon its point, and if she felt her walls let out another twitch from behind the thickness of her chastity belt, then who could really say that it was her fault. No, of course it wasn't. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't gone through something like this before. And against the silence that surrounded the two of them, she had more than enough things to worry about for now.
"No, sir," she said quietly, "The matron ties my hands together to the bedframe every time I go to sleep now."
It took some effort to keep a straight face. The punishment was something that only happened to the lesser-performing students who didn't command as much trust. Looking across at her though, the headmaster simply paused for a moment as if thinking something over.
"You were that girl from two weeks ago, weren't you?" he said slowly.
"I, umm...," said Sarah.
"The one I had to lock up in a belt?" he said.
He looked over at her again, and it was like a lifeline thrown out to her across the waters. She clung to it hard.
"Yes sir," she stammered, "You told me to come back when the time was up so I could have it taken off, but because I had to wear the plug the entire time it was hard for me to concentrate so they made me stand in the corner. And then since Mr. Simons said that I was a poor excuse for a student he made me bend over for a maintenance spanking in front of everyone else, and then every day after that he made me walk over to the front of the class for the paddle and..."
Wait, why was she telling him all of this again? Her voice trailed off as she dropped her gaze back down. Wasn't she here just to have the chastity belt removed? That was supposed to be all, wasn't it? Instead of the quick couple of seconds she had expected it to take though, her stupid mouth just had to go and betray her as if it had a life of its own.
The plug pressed up against her rear again, reminding her of its presence, and she bit down on her lips as she felt her opening let out another throb. It had been just over two weeks now since she tried to touch herself without permission, and at least ten times that amount since her last permitted orgasm standing up on the stage in front of the entire school. The pleasure of which had naturally been ruined as well, and as she watched the frustrating touch of the vibrator press down against her clit for a brief sixty seconds of torment before it was inevitably pulled away, it was almost as if the feeling was made even worse. Like an emptiness deep inside her that burned, and compared to the experience of having her walls clamp down over and over again on nothing but air, even another year of denial was starting to sound better.
But that was the past, she thought, shaking her head, and there was nothing she could do about what was already done. The clock ticked away beside them, and sitting there against the hard wooden surface of the chair, she clasped her hands together in an attempt to calm herself down. If the headmaster ever noticed though, he said nothing as he continued to stare at her from across the room.
"Anyhow," she finally said, still looking away, "I learned my lesson so if you could just take it off..."
Her voice sounded fake even to her own ears, and she blinked in turn. A moment passed, and then another as she felt herself start to shake, and it was a bit like having to bend over at the front of the class again by the time the headmaster finally opened his mouth.
"I see," he said, his voice slow and thoughtful, "I suppose then that two weeks is long enough."
He reached over into the drawer of his desk, and she blinked at how easily he had moved.
"You mean just like that?" she said, before she could stop herself.
