New Student at Lovemore Academy

In an affluent suburban neighbourhood was the Lovemore School for Young Women. It was a finishing school for girls who had barely scraped by in high school or failed twelfth grade. At 18 or 19 years, they did not belong in high school anymore. Having no boys around would reduce their distractions and hopefully allow them to focus. Lovemore's notoriously easy curriculum allowed the students to add a few Bs and Cs to their averages even if they were a bit dim. Once they had established a minimum of academic skill, they could apply to a post-secondary school. In general, these girls did not intend to get university educations. Just getting into the school would be enough. Then they could rely on their good looks and charm. Once they were surrounded by smart, hard-working men, they could get an MRS and drop out.

James arrived on foot and made for the front doors. His appearance caught attention from the girls, who could not help but stare. Heather, Brooke, and Sasha began whispering. Tammy was taking a selfie, and quickly adjusted the frame to catch him in the background. Melissa and Presley caught each other staring, and giggled in nervous excitement. Summer stopped on the stairs as he passed her, and turned to watch him climb them.

In the upper foyer, there were two dozen young women who stopped their conversations to look at him. He paused briefly to look back, smiling and giving a friendly wave. Then he headed into the school's administrative office.

"Who... was... that?" asked Candice.

"He was wearing the same uniform as we are. Kind of," observed Penny.

To reduce fashion-related distractions, Lovemore required the students to wear a uniform. It was not especially strict: a white blouse with buttons and a collar; skirt with the school's plaid pattern; socks in white, black, or grey; black shoes with, at most, a small heel. Most girls wore the same one every day in a season.

The young man they had seen was wearing a white collared shirt with buttons; brown pants; a sweater in the school plaid wrapped around his waist; and black shoes with white socks. The wrapped sweater suggested their school-coloured skirts without requiring him to wear a skirt.

"He couldn't really be a student, could he?" mused Samantha.

"I want to be in his classes," said Candice, and the three giggled.

"I want to be his lab partner."

"I'm going to help him study all... night... long!"

The three dissolved into laughter. The other girls nearby glared in irritation at them, but could not deny they had been thinking much the same thing. Whoever this new boy was, he was cute.

James entered the office and stood in front of the offices' secretarial desk. The secretary, Miss Melons, had been expecting a male visitor. She had done her makeup. When he arrived, she glanced at him quickly. Then she looked again, and her eyes widened. Her mouth hung open for a moment as she took him in.

"You... must be James. Hello! I'm Miss Melons, the office manager!" gushed Miss Melons. "Come to me for anything you need."

Miss Melons was rewarded with a warm, glowing smile. She smiled back, weakly. She felt herself quivering.

"Um. If you could... sit. Sit, like, in those chairs." She pointed a french-tipped fingernail at the nearby chairs. James obliged, sitting down near Rebecca. Rebecca had been staring in wonder at him. She adjusted her posture self-consciously, trying to make sure her knees were together and she was sitting up straight. She tried to say something to him, but was trapped in his gaze. His deep, soulful eyes caught her in their spell. She felt like a deer freezing in the headlights of an oncoming car.

While he was looking away, Miss Melons quickly adjusted her top. She pulled it down a bit, stretching it taut across her bust. She tucked the slack into her skirt-band to help it stay like that. Then she gave her bra a quick adjustment to sit higher on her chest. James looked back at her just as she was finishing, and she sat up as straight as she could. Miss Melons gave a shining smile just for him, and tossed her hair.

Rebecca, momentarily freed from her trance, looked over and saw what Miss Melons had done. She did not have nearly the bust to compete in that way. She adjusted her skirt to show off her bare thighs more favourably.

One of the office doors opened, and out stepped Vice Principal Hotcheeks. She saw Rebecca waiting in the chair, with her skirt rolled up, and scowled at the troublemaker. Mrs Hotcheeks jerked her thumb towards her office and said, "Come in here, immediately." Only then did she realize that there was a young man sitting in the chair almost directly under her. He stood up, obedient to her instruction that was delivered to someone else. As he stood up, he was within a foot of her. She gaped at his face and glanced down involuntarily at his chest. James edged around her and entered the office. Rebecca stood up and entered as well. Mrs. Hotcheeks blew out a breath and made wide-eyed eye contact with Miss Melons. The secretary nodded and mouthed "wow."

The office was small, dominated by a desk. There were two small chairs in front of it. James closed the door behind the vice principal, then leaned against it with his arms crossed. Rebecca sat on one of the chairs. The low chair made her look and feel small, barely higher than the level of the desk.

Mrs. Hotcheeks tried to compose herself as she walked around the desk to sit at her own large chair. She sat down and poked a few keys on her computer to buy herself a bit more time.

"Rebecca, I understand that you threw some gum away and it landed on the floor. That's a big problem, miss. Now you've not only inconvenienced the janitor, but you're interfering with the orientation of our new student." Mrs. Hotcheeks gestured at James, still leaning against the door, and made eye contact with him. He was staring back at her, his expression serious. She found herself staring at him, lost in thought.

He's standing so casually, but he's paying such close attention to me. He must be so confident. It's not just a pose; he has such strength of character. That must be how he got all that muscle. It must take such discipline to work out that much...

"Um, Mrs. H?"

Mrs. Hotcheeks started. Rebecca's voice had snapped her out of her reverie, and she realized that she had been silent for a bit too long. She cleared her throat, her mouth suddenly feeling dry and her clothes a bit too big. She was trying to regain her train of thought when James spoke.

"Vice Principal Hotcheeks, may I say something?"

Mrs. Hotcheeks' face flared. "Yes, of course, Mister... I mean, James." Her heart pounded at his voice. It was deep, rich, sonorous; very clear, and a little formal.

Rebecca felt as flustered as the vice principal, not daring to look back at him. She heard him stand up and come close behind her.

"Do disciplinary procedures at the Academy include corporal punishment? I think it might be effective in this situation."

Without waiting for Mrs. Hotcheeks, who was such a bundle of nerves at this point that she could scarcely parse his words, James held out a hand for Rebecca. She took it and stood up. He placed his hands on her right hip and left shoulder. He firmly bent Rebecca over enough that she was resting her elbows on the desk. She and the seated Mrs. Hotcheeks were now eye to eye, both feeling like kites caught in a storm.

James spoke again. "This is going to hurt me much more than it hurts you." Then he slapped Rebecca on her bottom.

Rebecca's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. She felt his palm press against her left cheek. Then he raised it and slapped her right cheek.

Five slaps in total, alternating between cheeks. They weren't painful; she could only feel a modest stinging through her skirt and underwear. After each one, he gripped her bottom for just a moment. When he had finished, James pulled her to her feet again.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, but bad girls need to be punished."

Oh, yes, I'm a bad girl. Punish me more, she wanted to say. James' hands on her had been exquisite, no less so for being slightly painful. She had tears in her eyes. He gently stroked them away with a finger.

"You won't be doing it again, will you?" He prompted.

"No, not... no, sir," she managed.

"Good. Now, off with you, please."

James opened the door, and Rebecca scampered out. Her desire to be close to him was overwhelmed by her eagerness to do as he asked. He closed the door again after her, the latch closing with a click. Then he turned back to Mrs. Hotcheeks. Rather than sitting down, he came around her desk. With her still seated, he seemed to tower over her. She looked up at him, fighting the urge to drop to her knees in front of him. She could feel her heart pounding.

"I expect you're eager to learn how to do that properly," James said. His firm tone suggested that this was not a question. Mrs. Hotcheeks nodded, and he took her hand. He stood her up, just as he had Rebecca. He put his hands on her waist and shoulder, just as he had Rebecca. Then he bent her over her desk. She was bent over much further, however. Her left cheek was pressed against the desk, and her arms were resting beside her.

Mrs. Hotcheeks waited, breathless. James bent over and murmured in her ear.

"Do you want the basic touch, or do you want to know how really bad girls are punished?"

Mrs. Hotcheeks squeaked out an answer. "Really bad girls, please."

She felt his strong hands take ahold of her skirt and pull it up over her hips. Her panties were completely exposed. Then he reached under the band and pulled them down. He pulled her panties down past her bottom, down her thighs, and let them fall past her knees to her ankles. Her bare ass was exposed now. She felt extremely vulnerable, and only more so as he gathered her arms up and pulled them behind her. Her wrists were crossed behind the small of her back, and he held them there with one hand.

"We'll start with ten," said James. Then he began to spank her. The pace seemed slow, with each blow falling many heartbeats apart. He alternated sides with each strike. She could tell he was using much more force than he had with the younger woman. Each slap fell with an audible smacking sound. Her bottom was soon stinging and sore.

Mrs. Hotcheeks had no idea how long it went on, though she was exquisitely conscious of each spank. When his hand fell on her, a perfect blossom of pain swept over her. She felt her cheek jiggling slightly under his hand, and he kept it there for just a moment. She felt his palm and fingers curve around to cup her cheek just before releasing it again. Then she went through a few heartbeats of anticipation before the next one came.

At the end, he gave her right buttcheek a squeeze. As she was paying close attention to the sensations from her ass, she was certain that it was deliberate. Then he released her arms. He pulled her skirt down over her hips and bottom, then helped her stand up again.

Mrs. Hotcheeks had never been more aroused. She was breathing fast and hard. She reached out to wrap her arms around his waist, but he stepped back. He took something off her desk; the student handbook she had planned to give him, and his class schedule. She had clean forgot about them, but he must have noticed. Even while inflicting the most delicious pain and sensations on her, he hadn't even dedicating his full attention to the task. She watched him leaving, her heart breaking as he did. Then she noticed something that chilled her.

James hadn't had to turn the door's knob to open it this time. It had been slightly open, just barely unlatched. She remembered hearing the click when he had closed it, so there was only one explanation. Someone must have opened it while James had been spanking her. Her mind whirled. Had someone heard the slaps? Or perhaps she had been moaning, and it had been audible outside.

Who could it have been? Was it Miss Melons, whose desk was just outside? Had it been a student, perhaps one of the student council? Could it have been the principal herself?

Mrs. Hotcheeks sat on her chair, her bottom now very sore. Her panties were still around one ankle; her ass was bare under the skirt. She tried to think over the haze of arousal that still lingered. She felt certain she could smell James in the air. Cologne, or just his sweat?

No, focus. Whoever it was, they had not interrupted. Perhaps they were planning some blackmail. Such an indiscretion with a student, even a new one, could get her fired. At least he wasn't a minor like in a real highschool, so she wasn't guilty of a crime. Still, it might ruin her career.

While Mrs. Hotcheeks considered the possibilities, James left the office. Outside in the foyer, about fifty girls had gathered. They formed a semi-circle around the admin offices' door, waiting for whomever would emerge. Rebecca had been thoroughly interrogated. She had kept the precise details of her punishment secret for now. She had told them of how he had firmly held her, and spoken firmly to her, and how he had made the vice principal lose the power of speech. Her breathless story had only excited the others further.

When James emerged, he paused and took in the girls surrounding him. The crowd gave an audible collective sigh. He smiled at them all and gave a wave and a wink. More than one of the girls felt her knees go weak. Vanessa found her head swimming so much that she had to sit down in a nearby chair. Yvette and Marceline held each other for support.

One young woman shoved through the crowd. It was Alyssa, a short and spunky girl with a big smile. She came right up to James.

"Hi! You're a new student, right? It's nice to meet you! I'm Alyssa. I'm sort of the official greeter for the student body. Would you like a tour of the school now?"

Without waiting for an answer, she thrust her arm into his. He accepted, crooking his arm like a gentleman escorting a lady. The two smiled at each other and began walking forward. The crowd parted to let them pass, although the girls on James' side didn't move too far aside. They pushed at each other to be the closest to him as he passed. Julia stroked his shoulder as he passed; he probably didn't notice, but she would remember the sensation forever.

Alyssa set a slow pace as she led James down the hall. She kept her composure by talking on autopilot.

"Over there is one of the washrooms. There are two washrooms upstairs on this side of the building. That's one of the classrooms that we use for classes. Those are some of the lockers. We all have a locker. You have to provide your own lock, but you will get to pick one of the lockers. You'll pick a locker that's not being used by anyone else. There's another one of the classrooms. That one has a projector that the teachers use to help show things like slideshows."

Alyssa continued to explain the patently obvious in unnecessary detail. James seemed rapt; he looked everywhere she pointed and never interrupted. He also kept looking at her face. She would have loved nothing more than to look right back at him, but she needed to focus. As they rounded the first corner, she slipped her hand into his hand and put her other hand on his arm. She lost the thread of her sentence for a moment as she felt his bicep.

"So over there we have... I mean, that is... ohh, boy. What did you say your name was?"

"James," he replied. "It's nice to meet you, Alyssa."

Alyssa nearly tripped as she heard him say her name. He had remembered her name and was being polite. Now they were holding hands and walking together! Her mind raced, trying to think coherently over the heavenly choir.

"Oh!" Alyssa stopped suddenly and pressed herself against him. She looked up at him, hand on his chest. Her heart hammered, and she pressed on. "Would you like to see the gym? It seems like you're really into fitness." She stroked his abs. "Really into it." She looked up at him and gave her sunniest smile.

James nodded. The choir redoubled. Alyssa paused, reluctant to take her hands off his torso. She nerved herself, as hard as she ever had for anything, and went back to walking hand-in-hand with him.

Now that the initial excitement had given way to a more stable euphoria, Alyssa's senses were able to focus on things other than James again. She noticed that a modest crowd of students were following them from a distance of about four meters. As they passed more girls, they also joined the crowd. Alyssa wondered how they might ditch James' fan club so that she might get him alone.

The walk to the gym did a lot of the work. By the time they had crossed the school, most of the girls had reluctantly accepted that he was in Alyssa's hands for the moment. They reached the gym, but James stopped walking at one point to squint at something.

"What's that?"

Alyssa tore her attention away from her hand resting on his chest as they walked long enough to see what he meant. "Oh. Over there is the theater. That right there is the cloakroom. I guess it doesn't have a sign on the door or anything."

James looked down at her with his deep eyes. "Can we see inside it?"

Alyssa's heart lept.

The cloakroom was a tiny room. There was a large window, allowing visitors to pass coats in for the staff to take. The window had a sill on either side, and was currently closed with a metal screen. The room wasn't used for anything on days when there were no shows or sports events. The coat-racks stood unoccupied, with empty hangers. James walked in as though he were considering to buying it, with hands on his hips and a critical expression. He looked around the whole room, which did not take long, and then turned back to Alyssa. She suddenly felt very small, and very awkward. She fidgeted with her hands, swallowed, and glanced around. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw James approach her.

"I'm going to close this door," he informed her, just before doing that. The door latched shut, and suddenly it was much quieter. The sounds of the school were cut off, leaving only the two of them. Alyssa could hear her heart beating in her ears. James came to stand in front of her and took her hands in his.

"I want to kiss you now," he announced in a matter-of-fact voice. Alyssa's head swam. A moment passed, and she realized that he was waiting for her to respond.

"Okay," she managed to whisper.

James leaned in to kiss Alyssa on the lips. Without consciously acting, she threw herself against him. He took her in his arms and kissed her again and again. He was a bit taller than her, so he had to lean down. He leaned down a bit more and started kissing her neck. Alyssa's eyes widened and she dug her fingers into his back. He nibbled on her earlobe and kissed his way back to her mouth. She could feel his hands on the small of her back, pulling her close to him. He slid his hands to her hips, then up her sides, then across her shoulders. He gently probed her lips with his tongue, and she opened her own mouth to let it in. Their tongues met, and she massaged his with hers.

As James' hands wandered across her arms, sides, hips, and back, Alyssa came to realize he was not touching her where she really wanted him to. Between kisses, she sighed and rolled her head back. "You can do anything you want to me, " she said.

That was all the permission James needed. One of his hands slipped forward and began groping her breast. While her head was still back, he slid his other hand into her hair. He took a handful of hair in a firm grip. He used it to pull her head sideways so that he could kiss her neck again. Alyssa was delighted. She loved how he was firm and confident, but also careful not to pull too hard and hurt her. She luxuriated in the feel of his hands and lips on her. Distantly she wondered if should tell him to pull a little harder.