So I was lying over his knees, bottom bare, waiting for his next touch. I knew it wouldn’t be him stroking me between my thighs again. He wanted to hurt me. It was his duty to punish me. I knew I’d been a brat to my teacher, really, and I couldn’t say that I didn’t deserve it. But with the headmaster instead of my teacher, it was a whole different experience.
He’d said, “you’ll come over my lap”. It hadn’t been what he meant, but I knew that I would. And that he wouldn’t be shocked. I could feel his thing hard and pressing up under me. He’d know I’d come, and he’d be happy for me.
I’m going to have to cut here, though. This has been published and my publishers don’t want free competition from me. You can read it here.