Stealing from the Headmaster

She dipped one, and then two fingers into her sore channel enjoying the sharp bite of pain as she rubbed her hard clit roughly with the ball of her thumb. Leaning back against the cold, wet tile, Kate reached her other hand up to tweak and pluck a sensitive nipple, then closed her eyes as she gave herself up to the rising tide of sensations she was experiencing. Picturing Duane's disgusting look of lust as he'd had them strip and perform for him, a tsunami of epic proportions washed over her, making her knees weak. With a groan of pleasure, Kate slid to the floor, allowing the water to wash over her spent body as she slowly regained control over her breathing.

Drying off, Kate had hoped she would feel better, but strangely, the intense orgasm only made her feel worse. She was thinking more clearly now, but this just fed into her mounting anxiety. The fact remained that she had broken into the school. She had wilfully stolen school property and said property was now in pieces at the back of her wardrobe, where she'd shoved them this morning. Her guilt had been established by an officer of the law and now Duane had somehow got involved, and both had enough blackmail material over her to make her their bitch for the rest of her life. If anyone were to see the tape or find out about her crime, her career was over.

It was all too much for Kate. She needed someone to help her. Someone with enough authority to put things right. She needed Mr Hardwood.

But, oh God, what would he do to her when she confessed?

After another half hour of wringing her hands and weighing her options, Kate made her decision. Getting out her phone, she dialled the number she'd been given in case of sickness absence - Mr Hardwood's private line.

As the phone rang, Kate almost disconnected the call. The fear she felt at what she'd have to confess was only outweighed by the guilt of all she had done. She would never sleep again if she didn't come clean and put herself in the stern hands of her Headmaster.

After what felt like a few hours, but was probably only a few seconds, Mr Hardwood's deep voice came on the line. When she said who it was, immediately his voice softened into concern, which only made Kate feel worse. Quickly, she impressed upon him that she had to meet him immediately to discuss new information about the break in and it was agreed that they'd both return to school to meet in his office.

Oh, dear Lord, what had she'd done? There was no getting out of it now.

Quickly getting dressed, Kate knew that she'd have to try to appeal to Mr Hardwood's mercy. She understood that he was within his rights to call the Superintendent and have her arrested immediately, but she hoped that he would consider the damage this could do to the school's reputation so would choose to handle this privately. Kate tied her hair back with a pink ribbon and prayed that the soft, stretchy gym leggings and fluffy baby pink cashmere sweater would show her vulnerable feminine side and would make him feel more protective of her. Either that, or they'd be gentle against her throbbing flesh should he choose to take his disappointment out on her more physically.

Climbing back into her car, Kate once more set off for the school.

On arrival, Mr Hardwood's imposing car was dominating the staff car park. According to Mr Steadman, the school's Head of PE, it was an 'obsidian black Mercedes-Benz AMG'. The man had said it with a look of jealous lust on his face, although Kate just felt a feeling of dread as she passed its gleaming black bodywork.

Mr Hardwood had left the door unlocked for her, so Kate had unimpeded access to his office, something she wasn't sure she appreciated. Walking as if to her execution, Kate forced herself to keep going, willing herself to put one foot before the other, as she fought an internal battle between common sense and the foolish desire for flight, until she once again stood outside the Headmaster's door. Heart racing and mouth dry, she took a deep breath and knocked.

'Come,' came the oh, so familiar voice from inside.

Pushing the heavy door inwards, Kate was greeted by the sight of Mr Hardwood just a few feet away, leaning back against the front edge of his desk. Although it was gone eight at night, he was wearing a full suit and tie. His arms were crossed, and Kate felt like prey as he fixed his eyes on hers with a raised brow.

When Kate did not speak, he prompted her with a gruff, 'Well, Ms Kissme? What was so vital that you needed my attention right now?'

The way he was looking at her, more a glare than a polite look of concern, made Kate feel even more guilty. This was the look he gave recalcitrant fifth formers when they were caught smoking and was guaranteed to make even the most hardened rebel crumble.

'I'm s,sorry to have bothered you at home, but there is something I really h,had to tell you, ' Kate stammered out.

Seeing how nervous Kate looked and sounded, if Mr Hardwood had any doubts about her guilt, they were now answered.

Stepping away from his desk, Mr Hardwood towered in front of her. 'Am I right in thinking, Ms Kissme, that this burning information that you had to impart so urgently was of a confessional nature?'

Oh God, he knows! Kate wanted to turn and flee the office, but she was frozen to the spot. And, after all, this is what she was there for. She'd come to confess and beg for help and now was her opportunity.

Tears of fear pricked her eyes as she looked up at him and mutely nodded, unable to form words with a mouth that felt like it was filled with sand.

'I see,' the Headmaster growled while shaking his head, 'I can't say that I'm not bitterly disappointed in you, one of my most promising young teachers, but I believe that I need to know the full story before I can decide what to do with you.' Taking her firmly by the arm in case she got it into her head to try to escape, he led her back behind the desk, before taking a seat.

'Well, Ms Kissme. I think you'd better tell me everything, but first you can take off your clothes before placing yourself over my lap.'

Kate gasped in horror. No, no! This wasn't how it was meant to go. She'd hoped he'd listen patiently then help her, not go straight for a punishment before he even heard what happened. Surely, he didn't mean to spank her without giving her a chance to explain herself?

'Please, Mr Hardwood, let me explain! It was an accident. I didn't mean for it to get out of hand. And now it's all got worse and I don't know what to do!' Tears were running down Kate's face as she looked imploringly at the older man.

'Be that as it may, Ms Kissme, you have attempted to conceal your transgressions instead of confessing from the start. You need to learn that hiding yourself away from me is unacceptable. If you want to confess and unburden yourself of your guilt, you will need to expose yourself, body and soul, and fully open yourself to me. Is that what you want, Ms Kissme?' he asked evenly.

Kate hung her head. Yes, shameful as it was, that was exactly what she wanted, why she'd called him. And so, the trembling young woman reluctantly toed off her ballet flats, wriggled out of her clingy leggings then pulled off the long, soft jumper that had been hiding her modesty, revealing a pale pink bra and matching thong panties.

Kate tried to fight her need to cover her skimpy underwear and stood, attempting not to fidget, as Mr Hardwood gazed upon her near-naked form. He looked pointedly at her undergarments and raised an eyebrow. Closing her eyes, Kate quickly unhooked and removed her bra, before bending to tug off her panties.

Kate's eyes snapped open when she heard a low groan, then were caught by the motion of the Headmaster patting his lap, 'Good girl, over you go now.'

Using her hands on his upper thighs to steady herself, Kate gingerly draped herself across his firm lap until her toes touch the floor to his right and her hands braced her to his left. 'Right now, young lady, I think it's time to tell me everything. If I think you are twisting the truth or leaving anything out, I will soundly spank you back on track. Do you understand?' Kate nodded, her long hair brushing the floor.

Smack! 'Use your words if you please!'

'Yes, Mr Hardwood, I understand, ' she gasped out.

'That's better. You may begin,' he replied, laying a large hand across her naked cheeks, stroking her in, what she could only describe as, a menacing way.

And for the next twenty long, excruciating minutes, Kate told her tale of the hen night and drunken escapade, her 'interview' with PC Laweles and their subsequent blackmail by the janitor. Despite trying not to leave anything out, Mr Hardwood found plenty of opportunities to spank her for more details, especially when she came to her interaction with Lindsay. Kate had barely processed what had happened herself, and yet she was firmly 'encouraged' to share exactly how Lindsay had violated her so thoroughly with her baton and how eagerly she'd tongued and sucked the attractive young constable to climax. Even though she made sure to answer every one of Mr Hardwood's shameful questions in excruciating detail, her poor bottom was blazing by the time he let her up.

Kate stood before the Headmaster, her hands torn between covering her ample breasts and bare pussy, and reaching back to cup her sizzling backside.

'Is there anything else you want to share with me in your defence before I pass sentence?' Mr Hardwood asked grimly.

Kate looked down and shook her head, then remembered his earlier admonition and choked out, 'No, Sir, I'm so sorry, Sir. Please don't hand me over to the police. I'll never drink again, and I promise I will never again do anything to harm the reputation of the school. Or to disappoint you again, Mr Hardwood.'

The Headmaster looked at the repentant girl in front of him and smirked, taking this moment with her tearful eyes downcast to fully enjoy his total power over her. At this moment, he could pick up the phone and call in the Superintendent. That man would do anything he asked of him, if he knew what was good for his career. He could get him to lock her up in a cell for the night, scare her even worse than she was now. The idea had merits. If he were to swoop in and 'rescue' her tomorrow, she'd be even more desperate. Even more grateful. However, the Headmaster was not a patient man and his motto had always been Carpe Diem, 'Seize the day'. Kate was plenty scared and desperate enough now to more than follow any of his demands. And be properly grateful for the opportunity.

However, while Mr Hardwood was enjoying these pleasant musings, his reverie was broken by the office door bursting open.

'Kate? Headmaster? What's going on here?'

ELEVEN - Reckoning

Lindsay had been on her way out of the school, clutching her backpack to her with its precious cargo of the incriminating tape, when she'd heard unusual sounds. The plaintive cry of a young woman and the unmistakable slap of firm masculine hand against soft, vulnerable feminine flesh.

Kate, startled by such a dramatic entrance, tried to cover herself with her hands as Lindsay rushed forwards to seize her by her upper arms, looking her up and down, before spinning her and taking in the sight of her crimson nether cheeks. Quickly, she turned on the Headmaster.

'What the hell did you do to her?' she shouted angrily, 'Don't you know she's been a victim of abuse? By your caretaker, a man you hired to work with your staff and the children in your care?'

Mr Hardwood coolly raised an eyebrow and retorted, 'That's a little hypocritical of you, don't you think, Police Constable Laweles? Weren't you the one who violated Ms Kissme, a member of my teaching staff, with your night stick? It seems to me that you yourself added to her abuse, did you not? I don't believe that technique is sanctioned for use in law enforcement. I wonder what the Superintendent, a close personal acquaintance of mine, would have to say about that?'

Lindsay stopped in her tracks. Kate had clearly told the Headmaster everything that had happened, in graphic detail by the sound of it, and now she had lost the upper hand. She could no longer protect Kate; she was powerless to even help herself.

Seeing that he held all the cards, Mr Hardwood relieved Lindsay of her backpack and emptied its contents onto his desk. His eyes widened briefly when he saw what it contained, then narrowed in a calculating fashion.

'What have we here, PC Laweles? Lock picks, a knife and, what's this? Security footage?' He smirked cruelly, 'Oh, my, this is all pretty damning, isn't it?'

Lindsay's face burned with anger and humiliation. She'd gone through all that with Duane to get this tape back, only to have it fall into the hands of a man who was every bit as twisted and even more powerful. Plus, now she had breaking and entering and carrying a concealed weapon thrown in to boot. God, she was so screwed.

'What do you want from me, Mr Hardwood?' she ground out between clenched teeth, glaring at him with vitriol.

The Headmaster relaxed back against his desk, smirking. Oh yes, this evening just kept getting better and better.

'Well, PC Laweles, I believe that you are complicit in trying to cover up a crime and have abused your power to coerce a member of my faculty into a sexual act. So, in fact, you are every bit as guilty as Ms Kissme and deserve to share her punishment. Do you not agree?' Mr Hardwood stated calmly, as though he felt her answer was a foregone conclusion.

Lindsay snarled, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face, but knowing she was in no position to do so. Not only would it compound her problems when he pressed charges, he was a large, fit man, and even her police training didn't guarantee she could overpower him.

'Well, PC Laweles? I am a fair man and will give you the same choice I gave Ms Kissme. Do you want to hand your punishment over to me, or should I ring your boss and have him come to arrest you?'

Lindsay knew, just like with Duane not an hour ago, she had no choice. Her body was going to have to pay the price of her mistakes. However, this time, she felt it unlikely she would find any pleasure in repaying the debt.

Staring daggers at him, Lindsay growled 'Don't call the Superintendent. You do it!'

'Tsk, tsk, PC Laweles,' he admonished as though correcting a stubborn child, 'Is that any way to ask for a favour? Manners, my dear, are the bedrock of civilised society. I'll let you attempt that again and I suggest that you do not try my patience unless you wish to compound your punishment.' Mr Hardwood drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting with barely restrained impatience.

Lindsay knew she was beaten and realised that her best bet was to follow this dreadful man's demands and get this over with as quickly as possible.

Taking a deep breath, she carefully schooled her temper and asked sweetly, 'Please, Mr Hardwood, I would really be grateful if you could find the time to punish me privately rather than telling my superiors about my irresponsible behaviour'.

The Headmaster chuckled, 'Much better, my girl. I do believe that a good dose of discipline is exactly what you need to help you see the error of your ways. Now, strip and stand next to Ms Kissme. You both have a job to do before we can continue to your richly-deserved punishment.'

Biting her tongue to stop the angry retorts from escaping, Lindsay quickly disrobed again, peeling off her vest and hastily knotted sports bra - causing yet another raised eyebrow from Mr Hardwood - and dragging her tight jeans and panties down her toned legs before kicking them off to the side.

Standing side by side, the two naked girls were different in so many ways but similar in the most important one - they were both his to control.

'Before we begin, a short history lesson. It may not surprise you to know I am a scholar of the history of corporal punishment, especially that used in educational institutions, and I have read the journals of our esteemed founder, Dr Thaddeus Fitzwilliam, where he talks about his own education. Before the common use of canes and paddles, so-called 'ragged schools' used easily accessible materials for their corporal correction. Dr Fitzwilliam himself witnessed the practice of birching and nettling, which he reports was particularly efficacious in adjusting the behaviour of wayward young ladies. As I find myself without my trusty cane,' at this he looked pointedly at Kate, who coloured prettily and hung her head in shame, 'I shall overcome and turn once again to those time-honoured measures.'

The women looked at one another, trying to take in his words and what it would mean to the state of their bottoms.

'Birches are best cut fresh, unless one has the time to soak them in brine, and there is nothing like a newly-harvested bunch of nettles to impart the appropriate level of sting. And so, ladies, you now need to go out into the school gardens to procure the items of your punishment.'

'You can't be serious!' exclaimed Lindsay, reaching for her clothes as if to storm out of the room.

'Not only am I totally serious, PC Laweles, you will not need your clothes as you will be completing your task naked. There will be no more hiding yourself, in words or deeds, in my presence. I will, however, allow you to retain your shoes. I would so hate for your tender feet to be hurt in the process.'

The woman looked at each other, aghast. For all Lindsay knew, Duane could still be around. Running around the school naked was the last thing she wanted to do right now but they had no choice. They'd both agreed to be punished by the Headmaster, and this is what he wanted them to do.

Mr Hardwood strode forward, throwing open the door to his office and striding off down the corridor towards the exit to the school's nature garden. Stepping out into the cool night air, the girls shivered and hugged themselves, partly to ward off the chill and partly in an attempt to hide themselves from any prying eyes in the dark. It was a short walk to one of the oldest trees on the grounds, a European White Birch that was said to be some 300 years old if the plaque next to it was to be believed.

'Ms Kissme, as a member of my staff I expect you to be familiar with this magnificent tree, which, as you know, was mentioned in Dr Fitzwilliam's memoirs.' Kate was indeed familiar, as she had only recently taught a history unit on Victorian schools where she'd dressed up as a strict school ma'am, much to the children's delight, and they'd visited the tree and learned with awe about how the low-hanging wispy twigs were cut and bundled to make a rod of correction to punish naughty children.

'Now get to work, both of you. You both need to snap off ten twigs, each about the length of your forearm, then strip them of all their leaves. Make sure they are young and springy - they have a lot of work to do and we don't want them snapping, do we?' Mr Hardwood was clearly enjoying their humiliation as they both reluctantly started cutting and stripping the twigs that were going to be used to stripe their tender cheeks.

When both women had a good bundle of stripped birch twigs, Mr Hardwood took a thick glove from his pocket and reached down to the overgrown area that had been designated the school's bug sanctuary to pick a large bunch of fresh stinging nettles.

'There now, I believe we have everything we need. I'm sure you are both feeling rather chilled out here. Don't worry, though, I have the perfect way to heat you up and bring a warm glow to your cold skin,' the Headmaster chuckled jovially.

Back inside his office, Mr Hardwood deposited the glove-wrapped bunch of nettles on his desk chair and made quick work of tying the two bundles tightly, using Kate's pink ribbon on hers, a touch he was particularly proud of.