The Test School Ch. 04

"Very well, but after each strike I want you to say, 'Thank you, Headmaster,' that only seems fair since I am doing you a favour." His hand lightly clapped against her backside, sending a wave of pain that guaranteed she wouldn't say no, but she glowered at her reflection anyway, hoping it would pass on her disapproval.

* THWACK! *

He struck again, softer this time, but only just. The pain was instantly back again, but instead of crushing her like the last blows, she could cope with this, if only barely. Her body cried out in pain and her brain screamed for relief, but now she could also think, not that her choice of topics was ideal.

As the paddle was removed, she felt a wave of heat slid across both cheeks and merge just inside her pussy, the small fire there was getting pretty warm. Heather clenched her legs, trying to quench it, but the belt between her legs stopped her dead, allowing the fire to grow. A tiny droplet escaped her pussy, getting caught by the belt before escaping amongst the beads of sweat already on her thighs.

As the pain slowly subsided, though the heat didn't, Heather bit her lip. She had to think of a way to avoid her end of the bargain, she couldn't thank him for assaulting her. Even just sneezing would have been better than following through with the Headmaster's demand. She just needed something she could work with, play off as fun or sexy. But nothing came to her, the fastest mouth in the class strangely silenced, and as his reflection started moving again, she panicked.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said, planning to speak quietly, but urgency compelled her to almost squeal it.

"You're welcome, Heather," he replied, then swung again.

* THWACK! *

This time he hit her much lower, like he was trying to launch her backside skywards. The audience watched as her bottom jiggled from the impact, her hips shaking, giving her body a rolling, almost lap-dance-like motion.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said, quieter this time.

"Louder please."

* THWACK! *

The blow was back to dead centre, and almost as hard as when he'd started. Heather let out a squeal that ended in a whimper. Her stomach started clenching like it was the one being assaulted, sending her breasts jiggling and swaying, a sight that would have delighted the audience if it wasn't blocked by her now quivering form.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said, reluctantly going back to full volume again.

"You're welcome, Heather," he replied, "Now let's pick up the pace."

She gulped, opened her mouth to argue, or maybe just squeal, but he was already swinging.

* THWACK! *

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"You're welcome, Heather."

* THWACK! *

Ten agonising times she felt the paddle slam into her bottom.

Ten excruciating times she jumped in response, bottom jiggling, breasts swaying, and body sweating as she groaned and gasped through the pain.

Ten humiliating times she had to thank him for it, only to get a glib response in return, like they both thought he was doing her a favour.

Ten times she had to accept the fact that some part of her was enjoying this, the fire in her pussy becoming hotter, and spreading further with each blow.

Ten times she was smacked in front of the class, yet it felt like hundreds.

* THWACK! *

But on the eleventh time, she'd had it.

"That's fucking enough!" she yelled, having to work through the pain before she could scream back at him.

The Headmaster stopped, letting the room echo with her words.

Heather started to shiver, the adrenaline in her system fighting an assault that was no longer happening. The cycle of smack, squeal, gasp for air, thank you Headmaster, you're welcome, was broken and it left her head spinning.

Her thighs were damp, the chastity belt was designed to keep fingers and dicks out, not keeping the juices the Headmaster had worked from her pussy in. From a distance, no one could distinguish the moisture on her thighs from the sweat on her body, dark stains forming on what little clothing she had remaining. Heather had no such luxury, she could see the trails running down her thighs, and she held her tender legs as tightly together as she could.

Heather yelped as the Headmaster's hand gripped the back of her neck again, pushing her face against the whiteboard. Every swing of the paddle had driven her forward, closer and closer to the board, her hands sliding upwards until her elbows took over the brunt of the work supporting her weight. Gravity had kept her held in place initially, the paddle had kept her pinned while she was being spanked, now the Headmaster's grip fixed her to the board

She took a deep breath, filling her tender body with air until her nipples smacked into the whiteboard, sending a jolt through her body that went all the way to her toes. They made no metallic tap sound as they bounced, but they felt hard enough they should have. When she exhaled, a thin patch of moisture appeared on the board, like it was mocking their intimacy.

"Why do you think we're done?" the Headmaster asked, leaning as close to her face as he could, his breath on her cheek while he gave the back of her neck a gentle squeeze.

"I've had enough," she replied, but half her face was still pinned against the whiteboard so it sounded a lot less firm and determined then she'd have liked. She wasn't speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear, but the Headmaster was almost rubbing his face against her cheek so it didn't matter to him. "All I did was pass a note, now my arse feels like it's on fire."

"And whose note was it?" he asked, voice sounding gentle and seductive for the first time. It was creepy, the man assaulting her suddenly sounding kind. It took her a moment to realise what he was doing, playing the devil in want of a deal.

Her heart was racing, her body was damp and exhausted, her backside could have fallen off at any moment and she wouldn't have cared, but ironically for someone so unwilling to put it to work for her studies, her mind was still functioning.

"Get fucked."

The Headmaster made a disappointed sound and withdrew his face. A moment later the hand on her neck disappeared, only to be switched with his other hand a second later. She gave an experimental push backwards, exploring the limits of her new situation when a hand lightly fell on her left butt cheek. A bolt of pain shot across her, the effects of the paddling making an otherwise friendly smack into a leg-shaking blow.

The Headmaster spread his hand out, filling it with her bruised butt cheek before he started rubbing along it. He might have been massaging, or he might have been examining the damage; either way, it felt hot as hell. Heather's breath caught as moved, either his hand was boiling hot or she was, and the feeling mixed pleasure and pain so closely her eyes rolled back in her head even as they continued to let the odd tear roll down her cheeks.

"You really think I'm going to stop your punishment because you've had enough?" he asked, giving her bottom a small pinch before he resumed rubbing.

She tensed for a moment, eyes shutting as she recollected her thoughts, the pain was bearable now, while the anger, and the lust, were building.

"You're getting off on this aren't you?" she asked, making damn sure to speak loud enough for the class to hear her. The hand on her neck gave another gentle squeeze, reminding her of her situation as the hand on her butt changed course. She could feel the fingers on her bottom slide along the bruised skin, drawing a shiver from her as they moved towards the chastity belt.

"My interest is purely professional," the Headmaster answered, keeping his voice rigidly even, "you on the other hand." With that, his fingers collided with the edge of the chastity belt, deep between her cheeks, pushing against them to slide between thigh and metal, touching the soft damp flesh in her bottom.

Heather quivered and let out a squeak, trying to tighten her thighs together as the Headmaster's fingers ignored her, pushing lower and lower along the belt until he was almost under her. If anyone had touched her like this they would have been subjected to the most immediate and violent kick to the most vulnerable area she could reach, but right now, she didn't say a word.

The Headmaster's fingers drew moisture as they moved, not the massive droplets she expected him to find, but a gentle smear that he carefully pushed along the belt, level with her taint. She shuddered again, her world becoming hot and humid, her thinking clouded as if the sweat dripping off her body was somehow fogging her mind. Without a single thought of stopping herself, she let out a soft moan, a sound that would be replayed in endless fantasies for all the boys in the class.

Raven and Teah hadn't resisted their punishments, they hadn't even seemed to try. Heather had, fighting him in the only way a student could. But when the Headmaster rubbed his hand along her body, kept away from her most sensitive areas by the belt as if that would lessen his hold over her, she caved. It didn't matter anymore, she thought with the few brain cells not smothered in heat, this felt nice.

The fingers started to withdraw, and now her efforts to keep them trapped were pursued with greater zeal than she'd used trying to keep him out. Her bottom twitched angrily as he withdrew, something every boy in the class watched with rapturous amazement.

She sighed, the rational part of her brain fighting the horny parts to no avail. Somehow it was a relief the hand was gone, and yet her pussy seemed to twitch for its return, only for them both to be disappointed as the paddle returned instead. It landed with barely a sound, her bottom jiggling enthusiastically at its arrival, despite the deep crimson shade she'd acquired from their last encounter. It wasn't the lightest of taps, but it sent a wave of pleasure across her body before she even considered the pain.

Her breathing was heavy and ragged, while her body twitched as the Headmaster pulled the paddle back. His hand still had a strong grip on her neck, and he used it to keep her face pinned firmly against the board. She was forced to look sideways, one cheek flat against the board while her mouth had to stay partly open as she fought to breathe. With every exhale a small cloud of mist formed on the board, only to evaporate just in time for the next one, a few tiny droplets of spittle the only lasting testament to her torment.

The hand gave her neck a gentle squeeze, bypassing all control she had over her own body and turning her legs to jelly. She might have collapsed, if only she wasn't so firmly fixed to the board right now.

* Thwack! *

The blow wasn't as hard as before, which wasn't to say it didn't hurt as it landed dead centre on her already bruised behind. Heather squealed into the board, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she did so. Once her brain had a handle on the pain, she realised something else, she loved it.

It felt like someone had just thrown fuel on the fire behind her pussy, the heat billowing up and down her body, tingling every nerve it passed. Her already unstable legs almost buckled, her cheek sliding across the trail of saliva she'd just left on the board before she could stop herself. The Headmaster had found a sweet spot, where even the pain made her body burn with excitement.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she whispered, genuinely meaning it for the first time.

The paddle was withdrawn, and the hand or her neck started pushing her face even harder against the whiteboard, as if in punishment for moving the previous time. She felt her body tense in anticipation of the next blow, wanting it.

The hand on her neck gave another gentle squeeze, this time her legs stayed solid, but her pussy twitched in response, as if it wanted to return the squeeze.

* Thwack! *

Heather let out another squeal, before biting her lower lip to stop, a new wave of heat spread from her pussy, filling her body and sending her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her whole body shivered for a second, knees wobbling together while her thighs rubbed against the chastity belt. As if he'd used a spell on her, the line of moisture in her crotch that he'd created seemed to glow red hot with heat and excitement.

She didn't thank him this time, her body hadn't noticed she'd used up all her air for squealing, and hadn't taken a breath in some time. It was so focused on shivering in delight at the slightest touch she had no air left to speak with. The hand squeezed her neck again, her pussy twitched in response and her nipples seemed to join in, tingling as they grew harder still, agonizingly hard.

* Thwack! *

This time she gasped, sucking air into her body like she'd never needed to breathe more than right now. The whiteboard felt warm now, something she was probably to blame for, her cheek sticky from her own drool.

"Thank you, Daddy," she finally whispered, her brain jumping back to a familiar moment as it was overwhelmed, trying to handle all the signals of pleasure her body was sending it.

The Headmaster paused for a moment, wondering if she'd been anywhere near Ms Smith's office last night, before correctly deducing the real reason Heather's mind had just left reality. He gave her neck another squeeze and watched as her whole body seemed to twitch in response, he couldn't see her face as he worked, but he didn't need to, the heat radiating off her telling him everything.

* Thwack! *

Heather's body jumped and jolted as she let out another small squeal, her control over her body almost completely gone. All she wanted was the paddle to strike again, and the hand on her neck let her know she wouldn't have to wait long.

* Thwack! *

It felt like her bladder lost control, all tension in her pussy disappearing for a second before she could frantically find the right muscles to tighten. She hadn't technically wet herself, but the moisture on her thighs thickened. She shuddered, then shuddered again, her heart went from racing to stopped in a single beat and her entire body clenched. It wasn't an orgasm, though whether he'd held her back, or she'd just accidentally fought it off wasn't clear.

The chastity belt was irrelevant now, all the stimulation, all the teasing, all the excitement her body wanted, or could even handle, was provided by the paddle and the hand. She felt the hand on her neck move again, but it no longer felt like he was squeezing her. His hand was flicking her nipples, teasing her pussy, and even pinching her bottom all at once, it just happened that he could do that with a hand on her neck.

"More," she gasped.

"Whose note was it?" the Headmaster whispered back, pushing the flat of the paddle against her bottom, denying her another smack until she'd answered.

"Cass...," she started whispering back, but even now some part of her resisted, unwilling to give up her friend. It didn't matter though, she'd already given him enough information, already betrayed her friend. Even if she stopped right now, told Cassie she hadn't given her up it wouldn't have been the whole truth.

The paddle was still pressed against her bottom, the devil's reminder that there was an unspoken deal to be made. She shook her head, the power of friendship surprisingly proving stronger, she wouldn't go any further than the betrayal she'd already committed.

* THWACK! *

She fully screamed into the board as the Headmaster struck once again with full force, not that that changed how much she loved it. All her body craved was more, even if the pain came with it; especially if the pain came with it. She shuddered, and clenched, and gasped as she waited for another.

* THWACK! *

"More."

Squeeze.

* THWACK! *

"More, Daddy," she whispered, but only just. The front row might have heard something, but their attention was elsewhere, their own bodies twitching and tensing in sympathy with hers.

Squeeze.

THWACK!

"Yes," she said, loud enough that others definitely heard, but they didn't have a clue what she was agreeing to.

Squeeze.

Heather's body shuddered, her pussy twinged, every inch of her body screamed for attention, for one more smack of the paddle. This was it, just one more time and she'd be done. A flood of heat and pleasure, the likes of which she'd only imagined was there, just beyond her reach. The smallest of taps would have done it, brought it to her, let her convulse in pleasure from the Headmaster's spanking. Her mouth hung open, ready to squeal in delight as she dribbled on the whiteboard.

But the final thwack of the paddle didn't come. Her body was jiggling and shivering, her mind flooded with adrenaline and dopamine, an intoxicating combination. Every part of her was ready, eager, but nothing happened. She was gasping, her tits were rock hard and begging to be caressed, her blouse had fallen further open during the paddling and now her breasts were completely free to sway below her.

Anticipation turned quickly to desperation as the blow still didn't come, she was ready to beg him to do it, to finish her off in whatever way he saw fit. He could choke her, he could thrash her, he could stick his dick in her mouth or her arse and she didn't care which. All she wanted in the entire world was that last little push off the edge into a pool of bliss.

"All right, that's enough for now," he said, before she could offer him everything, "we're done here."

We're done here, the words hurt her more than all the thrashing, all the humiliation put together. He couldn't leave her like this, he just couldn't! She started to turn her head, forcing herself against his hand, she'd scream at him, insult him, call him a coward in front of the entire class, anything that would bring his wrath down upon her willing body.

But he was done with her and the hand on her neck disappeared, dashing her hopes and dreams in an instant. As his hand left, so did her strength, as if he'd taken it with him, leaving her legs to buckle as she collapsed to the floor in a sorry heap.

There were immediate whispers from the class, nervous students debating if he'd somehow killed her, foolish students wondering if she'd just had an orgasm. Neither were true, though right now she would have welcomed either outcome. She didn't have the strength to move, to even look at the class she'd so enthusiastically teased earlier.

The Headmaster receded from her vision as he walked over to his desk. Once upon a time, less than a minute ago, her heart might have leapt at the sight, assuming he was retrieving the key to unlock her pleasure, but he wasn't. She knew in her broken heart he was finished with her, the puddle of twitchy nerves and pudding brain she felt like she'd become.

He did return, but only with her panties and skirt, where her bra had ended up wasn't clear in the moment. Heather watched as he folded her skirt over one arm, freeing his hand so he could extract the panties. At least he's going to give them back, she thought, right before he turned to the whiteboard and began using the panties to wipe away the drool she'd left there.

It was soul crushing, the way he used her most intimate article of clothing to clean up the mess she'd made, the mess he'd turned her into. There was no way she'd ever be able to wear the panties again, they were as tainted as the bra was, not that she felt particularly clean herself right now. When he'd finished with the board he turned back to her, grabbing her under the arm to pull her to her feet. She wobbled for a second, but he held on to her until she could stand. He didn't offer her the panties, not that she ever wanted to see them again; instead, he just passed her the skirt and returned to his desk.