A Most Wicked Headmaster (BDSM Erotica) Read online

  ***

  At precisely eight o'clock he arrived at the young teacher's cottage door, knocked and waited impatiently for her to answer, tapping his foot and sighing loudly. The cottage wasn't that large and she could now only be hesitating or double-checking her appearance before answering the door, either way it reinforced the fact that she was nervous and wary of him, that pleased him much.

  As the door opened he was most pleasantly surprised, the bitch had gone to much trouble to dress and present herself for him and the results were stunning. Her hair had been styled with care to the way he liked, her face was made up and blood red lipstick, glossy and sensual, coated her full lips. A tight and long sleeved blouse hugged her slim waist and pulled harshly over her thrusting breasts with three buttons open at the neck to give the faintest hint of the beginning of her firm cleavage. The skirt was tight and short, finishing mid way up her slender thighs to show the beginnings of the tops of her black stockings. The woman bathed in his obvious delight, beaming back a smile as his eyes roamed her body greedily. That smile dropped from her face as the headmaster pushed past her and stepped into her lounge without speaking. She in turn eyed nervously the long thin can he carried in his hand as she closed and locked the door.

  "Stand here," he commanded in a firm and masterly tone. The headmaster pointed with the cane to the spot on the floor that he required her to move to and waited as the woman meekly complied.

  "Shoulders back, head up and chin out," he snapped in irritation.

  A little involuntary gasp escaped her lips and she straightened her body as ordered.

  "You want to learn, is that right?"

  "Yes," she said a little too eagerly.

  He broke a grin and leaned close to bring his face close to her ear, a move designed to intimidate and to threaten.

  "Your instruction begins tonight then, learn well my teasing little harlot for I am a most demanding taskmaster when imparting knowledge."

  He paused and moved around to her front, standing close and commandingly before the smaller woman. His tongue licked over his lips greedily and his eyes searched the open neck of her blouse lustfully. His tone was now one of teaching and assessment.

  "You like to be controlled, is that right?"

  She tried to speak, her lips moved but no words came.

  "Answer me!" he shouted angrily.

  The woman started at the suddenness and venom with which his words were delivered.

  "Yes," she stated nervously and flicked her eyes up momentarily to gauge the depth of his anger.

  He paused and his smile broadened to a knowing grin.

  "I thought so. You like to be ordered around and instructed to fulfil menial tasks, is that right?"

  She nodded her agreement.

  "Does it excite you sexually to be manipulated?"

  "Yes," she croaked in a nervous little voice.

  He paused again, watching the woman blush at her admission that she was subservient; her experiencing shame at admitting that she became aroused by being controlled.

  "Did you enjoy the spanking I gave you earlier today?"

  She swallowed and half-nodded.

  "It was embarrassing," she squeaked hesitantly, "particularly within the school..."

  "Did you or did you not?" he raved impatiently, his face flushing in anger at her inability to give him a direct answer.

  "Yes," she almost shouted back in her nervousness.

  The headmaster stood silently, furthering his command over her and revelling in her trembling fear of him.

  "Learning comes in many forms and punishment always follows failure to comply fully with my instructions," he cautioned.

  She nodded her acceptance, her wide eyes staring up at him and filled with worshipping awe.

  "I will train you, teach and guide you, all you have to do is absorb that knowledge and comply with everything that I tell you to do. Is that clear?"

  Again the woman nodded, her reply was little more than a soft whisper.

  "Yes," she said.

  He nodded and grunted his acceptance.

  "Undo the next few buttons on your blouse, show your breasts to me bitch."

  Again she gasped, his words, the insult and the demeaning way he was treating her struck accord deep within her.

  Slowly her hands came up to her blouse, hesitating tantalisingly at the join at the front. Her fingers trembled, shaking in her nervousness and excitement; the long red-painted fingernails eased the buttons slowly open to part the front of her blouse. As the two halves of her blouse were pulled open the full beauty of her firm breasts was revealed, the silky swelling orbs pushed up and together by the little lacy black bra to form a tight cleft of most appealing cleavage. She stood passively as he ogled her mounds, his eyes seemed to bore down through into her body so intense was his interest in them.

  When he spoke again his voice was thick with arousal, his throat dry and his need great, it was portrayed in the way his deep voice cracked.

  "The first lesson and the subject tonight is posture. Correct posture will increase your commanding air and help to build confidence in you that others will recognise. Remove your blouse and skirt."

  It took a moment for his last instruction to register in her brain; the woman only began to comply as his threatening body movement prompted her to do so. Under his scrutinising stare she slipped the blouse off her shoulders and threw it aside, instantly her fingers moved to release the catch on the waistband of her skirt and it slipped down her body to crumple around her ankles.

  She stood now in just her underwear and black hold-up stockings, the sensual black lace and thin wispy nylon contrasting wonderfully against her pale creamy skin. The thin black bra strap across her back and shoulders formed a most appealing little harness that restrained her breasts, the black three-quarter cups constricting the swelling orbs most delightfully. At the back, the single thin thread of her panties pulled harshly down between the cleft of her buttocks, separating them into two most tempting firm mounds of desire.

  The headmaster drooled over the swelling mounds as he moved around behind her and to her side; he delighted in the way she gave an involuntary little shiver of fearful expectation.

  "What are you?" he demanded.

  The woman turned her head to look at him questioningly.

  "Why, a teacher of course."

  Her hips jerked forward under the impact, her back arching as the thin cane stung across the taut mounds of her buttocks.The thwack of the cane on her skin resounded around the otherwise silent room and she cried out as the burning pain seeped deeply down into her flesh.

  "A slut!" he raved loudly, "a teasing slut that is worthy only of being abused and used."

  She didn't reply but rubbed with both hands at the angry red welt forming on her buttocks.

  "Stand still," he shouted, "hands by your sides and head up."

  She complied, arching her back and standing like a soldier at attention. Her body jolted under the next cruel lash of the cane that stung at the top of her buttocks, slicing down from above to cut painfully across both at cheeks at the same time. The woman began to cry, tears ran down her cheeks, streaking her mascara in long black lines.

  The cane sliced hard in again and again.

  Thwack.

  "What are you?"

  whack.

  "Aaaah, A school teacher," she uttered defiantly.

  Swish - thwack.

  "What are you?" he repeated.

  The woman hung her head and sobbed, her shoulders heaving as she cried her misery. Her head hung down and the volume of her sobbing became louder, her body jolting under the impact of each hard lash. Her backside had turned a reddish-mauve under the brutal lashing. Finally she broke, blurting out her words in an effort to avoid further punishment.

  "A slut, I'm a worthless slut."

  Thwack.

  "That you are, bitch.

  Whack.

  "And a little whore."

  "Yes, a whore and a slut bu
t please...ouch!"

  A last he relented and paused, his throbbing cock pressing uncomfortably against the insides of his trousers. The headmaster was panting hard in his excitement, his face flushed and eyes blazing sexual need.

  "Take the rest of your clothes off but leave the shoes on."

  The woman bore the sting of the cane on the outsides of her thighs, the ceaseless cutting lashing continued as she removed her bra and then slipped her panties down to her ankles. She kicked them aside and then once again stood to attention as was required of her, whilst he beat at her thighs alternately. Naked and proud, she flinched only now as the burning pain warmed her outer thighs and radiated down into her muscles.

  He could sense her excitement through the pain, it added to his own to raise the level of sexually charged thrill higher still. The bitch was building, heading toward an orgasm as she stood naked and crying whilst he beat her. He had been right in his judgement of her, she was every bit a slut but better still, she was a submissive slut.

  "Walk," he commanded and lashed at the backs of her legs.

  The woman began walking, in long loping strides with her head up and back straight. She proudly displayed her body, her jiggling breasts and rolling hips, the fact that her hairy covered pussy was now fully on displayed seemed to add to her own excitement.

  "Turn," he instructed.

  She did so, facing him now and shuddering as the waves of pre-orgasm gripped at her insides. The woman tottered unsteadily, her eyes half-closing as her climax rushed toward her. The savagely hard swipes with the cane to her already bruised and beaten backside seemed now to have little effect on her, sexual pleasure overcoming even pain. Her legs tensed, slowing her walking, and stiffening her thighs to seem as though she wanted to pee. She gave a great sigh as the thunderous jolts of pre-orgasm gripped her and she cried out. Her head threw back and her hips thrust forward, the woman screamed as she came. She stood as she was, her naked body jerked and convulsed like a puppet on strings as the tremors tore through her.

  The effect that the sight of her in orgasm had on the headmaster was profoundly thrilling. He dropped the cane and ripped at his trousers in heated urgency to free his pulsing erection. In two long strides he was behind her, pressing is hard cock into the warm firm cleft of her buttocks. One hand gripped her hair and pulled her head back onto his shoulder, the other hand circled around her front to cup her pussy and to rub frantically at her hard clitoris.

  The young woman cried out as she was lifted onto tiptoe, the head of his cock slipped up between the backs of her thighs and up into her wet pussy from the rear. Her whole body was bucked and jolted upward as he lunged frantically into her, ramming his cock hard into her body and slamming his hips hard against her buttocks in his urgency. She was battered and buffeted, forced again and again up onto tiptoe as his cock slid back and forth inside her wet, warm pussy. She cried out on each inward thrust as the head of his cock rammed far up toward her cervix in a brutal race to sate his need inside her. The woman screamed as the pounding became more frantic; his orgasm approaching seemed to increase his strength and passion. Her hair felt as though it would be ripped from her head under the powerful grip and the crushing fingers on her delicate clitoris was bordering on painful.

  They danced around the floor, her little naked body pummelled upward unmercifully from behind by the force of his thrusts, her screams were loud and pitiful as she endured the ferocious assault.

  At last he tensed and came, squirting his hot seed far up inside her youthful body, emptying his ball sac totally into his latest conquest. The headmaster groaned aloud in pleasure as he slowed his thrusts and lengthened the strokes of each to inject every last drop of his come into her. His vice-like grip on her relaxed and when finished, he eased out of her and pushed her away like a cast-off rag. He then used her blouse to wipe his softening cock clean and threw it at her as a sign of his displeasure.

  "Lesson number two is Wednesday evening at the same time and you will perform much better than you did tonight," his voice dropped to a low and threatening tone. "Or suffer for it you most certainly will."

  He left her, curled up on the floor, naked and sobbing her misery into the carpet.

  Chapter 2

  He sat in on the class, assessing the woman teacher's abilities and taking the opportunity to ogle the giggling young sluts of the first stream sixth form. From his seat at the rear of the class he was treated to a row of tempting backs, through their thin blouses he could clearly see the tight bra straps that hugged their wonderful bodies to support the delightful array of firm, billowing breasts. Lower down as they sat were the swelling buttocks and hips as their little skirts pulled harshly across their backsides and when each of them stood in turn to say her piece he was treated to a cock-jerking display of long legs and the backs of their slender thighs. The hems of their little skirts rose teasing high at the back, some even to show the beginning of the swell of their buttocks. He sighed inwardly, imagining himself feeling up the little skirts, touching their youthful flesh and slipping his hand inside their tight little knickers. Of his fingers stroking the silky smooth skin on the pubic arch and then onto the soft downy pubic hair and...

  "Headmaster?" the teacher repeated to break his thoughts.

  "Sorry?" he muttered and looked to the front of the class.

  She was blonde, with a well-maintained body and looks for a woman in her early forties.

  "Would you like to comment on the geography lesson so far?"

  "No thank you, my task to day is simply to observe."

  She was a tart, an over-dressed ageing tart that applied her makeup far too heavily to try to retain her youth. She had the body that was for sure and in her time must have been a most attractive woman but now those looks were fading and she knew it. The slut would be easy, a different approach with her would be needed, one of flattery and coaxing reassurance, but get her he would. She would be grateful, extremely so, for few hot cocks came her way these days that much was certain. He contained a smile as he imagined her tied to the bed, with pillows pushed up under her backside and a huge dildo sticking out of her pussy as she wailed in pained pleasure. The woman would serve as light entertainment and nothing more, the younger sluts, the pupils, were his goal and they simply had to take preference.

  The headmaster sat out the lesson, ogling his intended prey and mentally forming his plans to ensnare and to abuse the tempting little harlots seated before him.

  ***

  She stood before his desk, the bright-eyed little slut that he had looked down on in the grounds and she was delighting in his hungry looks. The teasing little slut pushed her chest out to emphasise the swell of her breasts and her knowing smile acknowledged his lustful gazes. The tall blonde stood with her hands clasped behind her back, confident and a little too self-assured. She was pretty and knew it; she was using her looks and body to try to gain control of the interview.

  The headmaster referred to the notes in the manila folder on his lap, snapped it shut and threw it casually onto the desk. He lounged back crossing his legs lazily in readiness. This was the part he loved, deflating the little sluts' egos and bringing them down to earth with a thumping crash. The beginning of the process whereby he would turn the tables on them, bring them to heel and eventually, punish them for their wanton ways. This one however, the first pupil, he would deal more directly with. Straight for the throat and no messing, his full ball sac and stiff, aching cock made it necessary for it to be that way.

  "Your course work and exam results are abysmal," he stated in a cold and disinterested tone, "there is no place for you here any longer, you will leave forthwith."

  Her face dropped and her bottom lip quivered, tears welled up in her eyes and she fought back the urge to burst into tears. The girl stepped forward placing her hands on the desk, her manner one of imploring and begging.

  "But sir," she pleaded mournfully, "my parents will be devastated. They will...the shame...the..."

  "My min
d is made up, all failure should be rewarded with punishment, and this is yours."

  "Please, no. Please," she wailed.

  She began to cry, her slight body shaken by the heaving sobs, a wonderful performance designed to tug at his heartstrings.

  He sat watching her impassively as she went through her act; once her sobbing had reduced he spoke again, a deliberate entrapment that he felt sure she would walk into.

  "I will not change my mind," he hesitated and then added with a hopeful air, "unless..."

  Her head whipped up, her pleading eyes searched his face and waited for him to continue.

  "Unless?" she prompted hopefully and sniffed heavily as she dabbed at her tears with a tissue.

  "Unless you prefer to accept the cane; twelve of the best, and then continue in your studies here as normal - but with better results."

  "Yes!" she almost shouted and then straightened hesitantly, her expression one of questioning. She pondered a moment, her eyes flicked to meet his, her look one of sexual knowing. "Yes," she said softly, "I accept the cane."

  "On your backside?"

  She nodded slowly her acceptance.

  She was hooked and committed; now he would push further.

  "Your bare backside?" he asked in a thick and excited tone.

  Her stare and expression were now serious, transmitting to him her understanding of his hidden meaning, her voice cracked as she replied.

  "Yes, on my bare backside." She hesitated and then asked in a simpering little voice, "Does it have to be the cane?"

  He gave a wry smile.

  "Perhaps not, just get over my lap and then we can commence."