The Test School Ch. 04

Thankfully, the Headmaster resumed his lesson without further comment, and one by one, the focus of her classmates left her. She looked over at Grace, who twisted her mouth to hold in a laugh, she'd caught the look of panic on Heather's face.

As the lesson restarted, Heather quickly found herself back in a state of idle tedium, willing the clock on the wall to pick up the pace. The words of the Headmaster slowly receded into the background once more, and Heather's face quickly returned to a less beetroot hue.

Then came another tap on her arm.

It wasn't right away, at least a few minutes must have passed, but far sooner than she'd expected, Cassie was tapping at her arm with another note. Cassie's face was somehow even more fixed on the Headmaster as she did so, tightening her own security after the near fatal breach. Heather hesitated, remembering the Headmaster's warning, but she couldn't really roll over for that could she? Cassie tapped her again, more insistently, making Heather's mind up for her.

Heather looked back at the Headmaster, making sure he was writing something on the board, but given he'd probably guessed the first time that was no guarantee of anything. She gave him a few more seconds to make sure, but he just continued to write on the board, blathering on about something or other. Finally she committed, almost snatching the note off Cassie, holding it flat in her palm and ready to dump into her lap at the slightest hint of suspicion from the Headmaster.

He seemed oblivious, but Heather waited, giving herself a full minute before she made her next move. She tapped the note against the Blonde's back again, firmly this time, hoping to get the message across in a single jab. The girl seemed not to notice, so Heather tapped her again, and again, and again. Finally the girl understood Heather wasn't going anywhere, and turned ever so slightly to see what was going on.

Heather waved the note at her, trying to keep the motion subtle and the message short. In return for her efforts, the blonde girl simply shook her head, before turning back to the front. Heather frowned, pushing the note into the girl's back one more time, harder than before, which only earned her a raised middle finger carefully concealed behind the girl's back.

With her best option closed, Heather looked around for other options. The girl next to the blonde was out of arm's reach, and a whisper from the blonde all but guaranteed that route was closed before it even opened. She looked over at Cassie, wondering if she'd noticed what was going on.

Cassie's head was still rigidly fixed on the Headmaster, still giving every impression she was the diligent student the Headmaster almost certainly believed she was, but after looking closer Heather could see her glancing across. She slid the note along her desk, drawing it to Cassie's attention, and in return she got a tiny shrug of the shoulders, followed by a twitch forward. From any distance greater than right next to her Cassie's motions could have been anything, but Heather could take the hint, or at least what she thought the hint was, 'I don't know how, get it done.'

With a glance back at the Headmaster, he'd wiped his first masterpiece of notes off the whiteboard and was now writing across it all over again, Heather tried to figure out a new plan. In her head she crossed out scenarios, working her way through every angle. Can't go through the blonde, can't go around the blonde, under might work, but only if the boy was expecting another note, that only left one option.

As anyone who'd met her in class might have guessed, Heather had spent a great deal of time flinging balls of paper around a classroom. She'd gotten rather good at it over time, able to hit any desk in a reasonably-sized classroom from the back row consistently enough that no one challenged her to a game of HORSE after seeing her in action.

Any concern about the Headmaster's warnings had well and truly escaped her mind as she made the necessary mental calculations, something more taxing than what she was literally being taught in the class she was presently ignoring.

Her hand scrunched up the paper, hoping the contents of the note wouldn't be affected, but the note had to fly consistently. The Headmaster looked back from the board, giving the room a quick glance before fixing his eyes on her.

Had he heard the paper crinkle as she scrunched it? The longer he looked at her, the more his eyes seemed to pierce right through her. Could he see the guilt on my face, she wondered, could he read my thoughts? NO! her mind screamed back at her, forcing herself to calm down. There was no way he could know, she'd been careful, done everything necessary to remain anonymous. He was just checking on you, he knows you might be trouble, but he can't prove anything.

As if he'd heard her thoughts, and been convinced by her own arguments, the Headmaster turned back to the board, still wielding the marker in his hand like a weapon.

Your weapon against mine, she thought, and launched the scrunched-up paper. It went in a high arc, it had to in order to clear the blonde in front of her, before quickly dropping down. The throw was good, the air conditioning wasn't on and the windows were closed so there was no need to adjust for anything, it was a shot she'd made many times before.

That was when it all went wrong, because of course it did. The target decided at that particular moment and for no earthly reason, to lean his fat head forward and look at his notes. Rather than land square on the desk in front of him, which was absolutely what should have happened, it smacked into the back of his dumb head and started rolling.

If it had gone to the right, falling between him and his neighbour, then everything might have been fine. Instead, because god hated Heather Margrie, no, because every god from every conceivable religion hated Heather Margrie, the paper rolled left. It fell into the aisle between the desks, perfectly centred and practically spotlighted against the dark carpet.

"Fuck," she whispered.

The target let out a small squeak, or a very effeminate grunt, surprised and confused by whatever had just happened to him. That got the Headmaster's attention, and before there was anything Heather could do, he spotted the note.

A hush once again fell over the classroom, no one except Heather and the Headmaster aware of what was happening, just that everything seemed to have stopped without warning. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the faint clicking as the clock counted the seconds.

"I warned you about passing notes in my class, Heather," the Headmaster said, each word carrying the weight of a church bell as he spoke.

He couldn't have known for sure the note came from her, and for a moment she debated playing ignorant, or pretending he was talking to a different Heather. But the burden of proof in a classroom is a lot lower than beyond reasonable doubt, and there was no other Heather, she was caught.

"Sorry, sir," she answered, acknowledging her guilt and being rewarded with rows of heads turning to stare at her again.

"Could you please join me at the front of the room." He phrased it politely, but his tone was commanding.

"Do I have to?" she asked, it was worth a shot.

"Yes you do, and bring the note up with you."

Cassie flinched like she'd just stepped on a live wire, for less than a nanosecond every muscle she had seemed to clench, but she was back to perfect in half that time, leaving everyone else none the wiser.

Heather pushed herself off the table, legs and arms feeling suddenly heavy as she started moving. Picking the note up, she set course for the front of the class, gripping the ball of paper tighter and tighter as she walked. Punishments from teachers were nothing new to her, though she was under no illusion that this would be your typical timeout; what really worried her, was the note.

Heather was many things, a bitch, a slut, even a complete moron sometimes, but she wasn't a snitch. Sure, she might get someone in trouble with the teachers, but that was only when they wouldn't give in to whatever she really wanted from them. Blackmail being just one of many tools in her bullying arsenal. Sharing Cassie's note with the Headmaster, a note from a girl to a boy that might even go as far as poetry, would be a betrayal of her friend, something she couldn't allow.

She rolled her hand around, getting a feel for the size of the paper, weighing her options. The closer she got to the Headmaster the less likely she could get away with throwing it somewhere he couldn't find it. That really only left one option, letting out a sigh she stopped walking just before she cleared the desks, and popped the note into her mouth.

The class, or at least those in the front row who saw what she did, gasped at the act, even the Headmaster looked surprised at the act of defiance. That'll teach the prick, she thought.

The ball of paper was bigger than she'd expected, or it just seemed bigger now that it was actually in her mouth. She spun it around with her tongue, getting it damp, damper actually, apparently it had picked up a lot of sweat from her hand. Maybe she was a little nervous about what was happening.

With a big gulp, she swallowed, feeling every crinkly edge of paper scratching her throat on the way down. She'd feel slightly nauseous for the rest of the day, but that was part of the job, this also wasn't the first note she'd eaten.

"That note must have been really embarrassing," the Headmaster said, but only once he'd recovered from the surprise.

Heather put on her best smile, innocent, with a bit of sexy coyness thrown in for good measure. She had a game plan for this type of situation, one she'd honed over many different punishments, with many different punishers.

She was a girl, and a hot one at that, no matter what her friends said. She had nice tits and an attractive arse. He was a guy, a teacher to be sure, but the laws of horniness said she should be able to play him like a fiddle.

"A girl has to have her secrets, Headmaster." She answered, hitting him with the full force of her smile. She might have batted her eyelashes as well, but that would be too obvious for right now.

"A young lady," the Headmaster began, waiting for her to start moving again before continuing, "may have her secrets, but she must also obey instructions or face punishment."

"Oh, Headmaster," she countered, "please don't punish me, it was just a note." She moved close to him, not just within arm's reach, but close enough she could feel his breath on her face. Curling her hands behind her back, she used her arms to push out her breasts, their closeness giving him no choice but to notice the motion.

Something in his eyes flashed in response to her move, winning her a point in the unofficial battle she'd just started. She didn't know what he'd gotten up to last night (see Chapter 03), but she'd gotten a reaction, and that was all the encouragement she needed.

"That was the second note, Heather," he finally spoke, though it took him a moment, "and that's not the only reason you're up here. I'm aware of your record, Heather, what you did at your last school, and in the short time you've been here, you've made it clear you have no intention of changing that behaviour."

Someone must have ratted her out, she figured, teachers don't talk like that unless someone has complained to them. Still, that wasn't something she could do anything about right now, though a list of suspects was already forming in her mind.

She lowered herself slightly, giving the Headmaster more of a height advantage than he already had, another move remarkably similar to the one Ms Smith had pulled last night, before batting her eyelashes.

"Headmaster, are you going to spank me?" she asked, getting her voice to quiver and taking inspiration in imagining herself as the youthful and weak-willed Raven as she did so.

That wasn't all she did though, since wiggling her way through the Headmaster's defences was only half of the battle she was waging. Behind her back and hidden to him, at least that's what she thought, she stuck out her bottom and gave it a foxy wiggle. A quick glance at the audience confirmed it worked, the male half of the audience was giving her their undivided attention.

Heather's game plan had a few goals, as plans developed over many years tend to do. The biggest of those goals was rather obviously to get through the punishment as lightly as possible. That wasn't to say she expected to get away with a warning here, while Raven and Teah had been mortified as their bodies had been publicly exposed, she'd already made peace with what was coming.

Heather wasn't worrying about showing off the panties, or even her pussy to the audience, a small part of her was excited at the prospect; instead, she was going to work the classroom. The best way to beat embarrassment, simplistically put, was to not be embarrassed.

There were five boys in the classroom that she had free reign to pursue, and if Cassie was already fixated on one, then that opened up her other three. If they were going to see her naked, Heather believed, then she'd be well served by playing up the sexy side right now. That'll show who's the fuckable one of the group, she quietly thought, before returning her focus to the Headmaster.

"If you're going to disregard, and even actively disobey my instructions then yes, I will have to punish you," the Headmaster was saying, though Heather only caught the tail end. Teachers always seemed to enjoy talking, unaware of just how tedious their audience found them to be.

"Really, sir?" she pleaded. Should have saved batting the eyelashes for now, she thought, but flirting with a teacher was more art than science.

"Yes Heather, now stand up straight and face the audience."

Rookie mistake, she grinned. Facing him gave her limited options, now he'd handed her the opportunity to look at the class, and any boy she desired, without interference. She turned and stood straight, looking out at her audience, waking up the showmanship side of herself. That was when she felt it, the first tingle of apprehension in her belly that seemed to crawl up her body. She swallowed the feeling down, the lingering effects of the paper making it an unpleasant experience, but this was no time to let herself panic.

The Headmaster gave her a moment before issuing his next instruction, probably expecting her to be intimidated by the sight of a classroom of staring students. But that didn't happen, after that first tingle of nerves Heather was in her element, the centre of attention and ready to play.

The classroom was full to capacity, with two students to each desk. They'd largely self-segregated along gender lines she noted, something that wouldn't last long if she had anything to do with it. In the front row by the door, on her far left, sat a tall and muscular blonde guy, someone she'd identified on the field as an impressive jock, and chose him accordingly. Shooting him a smile she made a note of his location, no harm in knowing where the best eye-candy in the room sat.

"Remove your skirt and hand it to me," the Headmaster commanded.

The tingle of nervousness turned into a tickle, and she swallowed again to keep it down.

"Do I really have to show my panties to the whole class?" she pouted, but shot the nerdy guy in front of her a small wink at the same time, though he technically belonged to Grace.

"Now," came the response.

Heather bent down slightly and reached for the zipper on her skirt, but stopped and stood back up again, drawing a note of disappointment from the audience.

"What if I don't consent? sir, I am an adult you know." The thought had occurred to her on the first day, though she doubted he hadn't thought of it already.

She flinched as the Headmaster's surprisingly strong hand gripped the back of her neck in response. He moved in close, speaking directly in her ear but loudly enough for the entire audience to hear.

"You are an adult, Heather, even if you don't act like it, but you're also a student here. As a result you're in an interesting legal limbo, I only need your consent once."

"But I don't consent," she answered, trying to wriggle her neck free of his grip. The hand, and by extension all of her, remained fixed in place despite her best efforts. Her father had gripped her like this, after he'd put her over his knees and pulled down her skirt for some father-daughter punishment, an association she really didn't want to make at a time like this.

There was more to it than just that though, because in this moment of trial the universe was determined not to make things easy for her. She didn't usually go for the submissive play in her relationships, she knew what she wanted from boys and she insisted on getting it, usually just a good hard fucking. But there had been one encounter she would always remember, one that had opened a tiny door somewhere in her mind. It wasn't that he'd choked her exactly, she could always breathe just a little, but the guy, whatever the hell his name was, had definitely grabbed her neck, and put in enough force to make her his bitch.

She'd had her best climax ever during the sex, the guy releasing her throat just as she'd started seizing up. The sudden release of pressure had mixed with the full-body orgasm, reinforcing each other and bringing her to eye-rolling and pussy-tingling new heights of pleasure.

It had never happened again, she didn't dare ask most guys to try choking her. Those she did ask were too afraid of hurting her to try. She wasn't even sure if it was something she was really into, but here and now, when she desperately wanted to maintain control of the situation more than anything else, those feelings started to come back. A teeny-tiny spot of heat, the smallest of fires, started in her loins, a worrying sign for things to come. That's supposed to be what's happening to him, she scowled.

"Yes you did, Heather, you consented to accept all punishments and rewards I deem appropriate," the Headmaster spoke straight into her ear, he must have been almost leaning into her he was that close, but she couldn't feel him, even after she nudged her bottom out to try and catch him. "When you signed up to attend this school you were given a number of forms to fill out." He continued, unfazed by her attempts to touch him, "There was the usual mix of diet and medical forms, but you also signed a form that gives me all the consent I require."

She shivered, she couldn't help herself, even if it meant giving the point to him. Of course she hadn't read all the forms, they were just like the terms and conditions that no one ever bothered to read. Her mother hadn't even given her much of a choice in the matter anyway, simply handed her the paperwork for a new school and told her to sign it or get the hell out of the house.

"Now you can follow my instruction and hand over your skirt, or I can invite a few of your classmates to the front of the room to hold your arms while I take the skirt off for you." The Headmaster finished speaking and released her neck, leaving her standing alone at the front of the room.

The fire in her crotch didn't die, but it certainly turned down to a simmer, allowing her to shake her head and clear her mind. As fun as it might be to have a couple of guys come up and grab her, though with her luck the Perv would be the first guy the Headmaster picked, she had to take the skirt off herself. She had to look in control, especially as the situation seemed to get further from her control.

Cocking her hips to one side with a feisty flourish, she bent down again and went for the zipper. She could hear the audience move with her, twisting around each other to get a better view of what was happening.