The Dirty Headmaster Page 6

  “I’m sorry about that, Miss Evans.”

  “Why?” I said with a tearful sob. “Why would you care?”

  “Because I don’t think you were treated fairly,” he said softly. And for a moment, the dominant Master was gone and I saw another side of the man, something soft and sensitive. But that too was gone in an instant.

  Flicking open the lock to the cuffs, my wrists dropped limply to my sides. Oh god, they burned a little, the skin chafed and raw. How would I hide this from the other girls?

  But Thorn was quick. He walked over to a wardrobe in the back of the cabin, and pulled out a crisp new jumpsuit. Slowly, the man helped me get dressed, examining my reddened buttocks, the indentations on my wrists.

  “Here,” he said smoothly, rubbing those big palms in circles on my bottom. “It’ll feel better soon.”

  And I gasped then. Because his fingers were trailing against my crotch now, slowly slipping into that vee at my core. Surely, he could feel how hot I was, the shameful steam that rose in humid waves.

  With a knowing chuckle, the man niggled my clit once more, making me gasp before zipping the jumpsuit all the way to the chin.

  “I’ll be seeing you here every Wednesday from here on out, Miss Evans. It was a good session today. We had a breakthrough.”

  I goggled at him, unable to speak. But he was right. Blurting the reason for my father’s hatred did feel cleansing, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

  “Thank you Master Thorn,” I whispered, head down. “Yes, I’ll be here.”

  “Good,” he replied, expression was unreadable. And then the man nodded curtly at the door, indicating my dismissal.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Evans.”

  I could merely shake in return.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Thorn,” came my whisper. “Good night.”

  And then I ran out of the cabin. It wasn’t dignified. It’s not what sophisticated ladies do. But I bolted as fast as my legs could take me, not stopping until I was in the girls’ restroom.

  Only when I was safely locked in one of the stalls did I halt, heart beating erratically. Because this was all Thorn’s doing. Never in my life have I felt stripped bare like this, my heart and soul laid out for a man to take. My buttocks still stung, wrists chafed and raw.

  And yet, I wanted it. My session with the Master had been cleansing, even purifying. I wanted to know where this would go, and how he could help me. But my interest wasn’t limited to an exploration of the past. I wanted to know more about my mysterious Dom … and to take everything he had to offer.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Minnie

  Slowly letting myself out of the stall, I took a deep breath. Staring into the mirror, my brown eyes assessed the reflection before me. My red hair was tamed. Except for the rosy tint on my cheeks, there was nothing to indicate what had just happened. I closed my eyes, mind reeling back to the moment.

  The slaps sounded hard in my ears. Thorn’s deep voice that told me he didn’t like being lied to rang in my ears. I didn’t think I could go back to that cabin without remembering what had happened between the two of us. I didn’t think I could even look at him again without going completely weak inside.

  Because Thorn had flipped a switch inside of me and I had no idea how to turn it off. I had no idea my hormones could cloud my judgement. I had no idea sheer need felt this good.

  But it had to wait until next week. For now, it was back to the cabin.

  “Oh hey.”

  Nicole, one of my roommates, commented the moment I entered our dorm. She was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, a sketchpad in front of her.

  My two other roommates turned to look at me. The three of them had changed out of their gray jumpsuits and into pajamas. We were allowed to use our own sleeping attire. It was a good thing they didn’t issue us with gray pajamas because I don’t love sharing clothes and sharing nighties seemed unnecessarily intimate.

  When I first met the three girls my first day, admittedly I was a little scared. They had intimidating auras but I guess every girl in this school has one. After all, they were the kind of ladies your mother told you never to hang out with. The ones who smoked, drank, got pregnant and fifteen and lived off welfare.

  But honestly, these girls were okay. Not perfect, but who is? They were starting to grow on me.

  The girl I shared the bunk with was named Samantha. She was a big girl and I don’t mean the big beautiful woman kind. I mean she was fat but I’m not being judgmental here. It was a fact she announced herself when she introduced herself to me.

  “I’m Samantha Adams. Yes, I’m fat. Bullying others was how I defended myself from their judging eyes,” she announced, loudly chewing on a wad of gum. “Until my bullying got a little out of hand and I was sent here.”

  Okay, I get that. As a bigger girl myself, there’ve been so many times I’ve been tempted to lash out. I wanted to pummel someone sometimes, but physical violence isn’t the way to go.

  Nodding sympathetically, I turned my attention to the darker girl beside Samantha. She was absolutely ravishing. Her ebony curls were tied tightly back in a ponytail, dark eyes calculating.

  “Bex Garner,” she said flatly. “I’m from the ghetto. My father sent me off to my mom when I was sixteen. Evidently my mother couldn’t handle me either so she sent me here. I guess setting her garage on fire was the last straw.”

  Yeah, that seemed pretty dangerous. A lot of people store hazardous chemicals in their garages, so massive explosions could have occurred.

  Last was a girl with blonde hair. Nicole looked just like a prissy rich teen, with those straight platinum strands and creamy complexion. She looked like the type of girl who would be head cheerleader, the star quarterback carrying her books. But the blonde defied stereotypes.

  “Nicole Anderson,” she told me, sticking out a hand for me to shake. “I’m a suspect for murder.”

  My eyes had widened when she said that. Holy shit. Were we in danger? Was she going to kill us while we slept? The other girls laughed when they saw my reaction.

  “I’m kidding,” Nicole joshed. “I steal stuff. I stole a Camaro and crashed it into a convenience store just because I wanted to. My parents sent me here in hopes that I would get my shit together. I guess I’m not their dream daughter.”

  At that moment, I envied them. They all had a reason why they were here. A real reason, not something made up and fake. Because I was sent here by my dad because of his own securities. But how do you fix that at Forest Hills?

  “So what’s your story?” Nicole prompted.

  I bit my lip nervously.

  “I don’t have one. My dad just wanted to get rid of me,” was my answer, rolling my suitcase to an unoccupied corner.

  “Ah,” Bex mused. “Parental issues. I think you’ll fit right in with us.”

  They didn’t press me further on the issue. Everyone has secrets after all, skeletons in the closet they wanted to hide. So the conversation skewed casual. They liked the fact that I was good at makeup and last Saturday, we spent a couple hours playing with the powders and creams I’d managed to smuggle into Forest Hills.

  Plus, the interaction gave me time to build trust.

  “Minnie?” Nicole called out suddenly.

  I turned to look. Her eyebrows were raised, eyes glinting with amusement.

  “You know, you keep blanking out when people talk to you. Was sharing your troubles with Ms. Williams really that bad? Babe, I never mind telling her everything I feel. Sometimes I even break down,” she confided in a whisper. “They love it when you cry during those therapy sessions.”

  I turned to her with my mouth agape. The blonde just laughed.

  “Seriously, we’ll teach you how to work these things. That way you can get out of here earlier.”

  I shook my head.

  “Ms. Williams isn’t my counselor.”

  “Oh, so you have boring Mrs. Keller?” Bex interjected. “She talks too
much. I thought these sessions were supposed to be about us, but Darla Keller just drones on and on about her grandkids. I sit there and listen most times.”

  “No.” I answered with a casual shrug. “I have Headmaster Thorn.”

  Silence for a moment.

  “You have who as your therapist?” Samantha shrieked, her crochet falling to the floor.

  All of their eyes were on me, making me fidget nervously.

  “I was surprised it was Master Thorn as well. I thought there were only two counselors on site,” came my small voice.

  “You’re right,” Nicole confirmed, her voice quiet. “We only have two people, so how the hell did you get Thorn?”

  I could only answer them with a shrug. I didn’t know either. I didn’t even comprehend what had happened earlier. Did counseling include spanking? Did it include corporal punishment, a man laying his hands on your bottom? I’m pretty sure that the school therapist back in my old high school didn’t do it that way. And I’m sure the two other counselors at Forest Hills didn’t do it like that either.

  “I don’t know,” came my voice, trying to sound casual and nonchalant. The spanking echoed in my brain. “Maybe Ms. Keller and Ms. Williams are booked.”

  The three of them looked like they didn’t want to believe it. But Samantha cleared her throat then.

  “Well, lucky you to be staring at a fine piece of ass every Wednesday night.”

  My pulse beat like a hummingbird.

  “I guess so,” came my mumble. “Yeah, he’s not bad I guess.”

  “I guess?” Nicole echoed.

  “You guess?” Bex repeated. “Hun, you are beyond lucky. Hell, I thought Nic hit the jackpot when she landed Ms. Williams but your stars aligned better than hers did. Headmaster Thorn is fine meat. I could stare at him the entire day. I swear my ovaries go into overdrive when he’s around.”

  I blinked, flushing hotly. Talking about Thorn so openly made me uncomfortable, and the three girls laughed.

  “Shut it, Bex. Let’s just all agree that you lucked out, Minnie.”

  My mind went whizzing back in time. I remembered how he’d cupped my ass before slapping it hard. I remembered how he’d told me he didn’t like lying. I remembered his commanding presence filling up the room, massive and dominating.

  “Yeah, I’m lucky, I guess.”

  And with that, we turned in, to my great relief. In the dark, I stared blankly up at the ceiling for what felt like hours. The light snores of my roommates rang in my ears, Samantha’s mumbled dreams about tater tots.

  What happened with Master Thorn earlier?

  My mind still couldn’t wrap itself around the events of the day. The spanks echoed in my brain, filling up every crevice as a low growl sounded in my ears.

  Punishment.

  I was to be punished because I lied to him.

  Thorn didn’t like to be lied to.

  I remembered the conversation we had before the spanking happened.

  “I’m a lot of things,” he’d said silkily. “I’m a therapist, a headmaster, and a disciplinarian, to name a few.” He had said it so nonchalantly as if it wasn’t a big deal.

  Oh god. Suddenly, the meaning of discipline was clear.

  His hand on my bottom.

  My wrists cuffed and bound.

  Me kneeling, subservient to his command.

  But I’d loved every moment of it. Each time his hand came in contact with my ass, my pussy grew wetter, hot female cream oozing from my secret space.

  And he’d touched me too. It’d been so fleeting, just a skim across my clit, a quick rub of my cunt. But it wasn’t imagination. He’d touched me, and I almost came, heaving and panting, a mess on the floor.

  Oh god, sleep was impossible. Each time I closed my eyes, I could see Thorn’s piercing blue eyes, lancing through my soul and swallowing me whole. He was taking over my thoughts entirely, my body burning with desire. The vixen within told me to sneak out of the cabin and to find him. And then who knows?

  But no. There was no way I could do that. Thorn was the headmaster at Forest Hills. This was wrong for about a billion different reasons. On all levels, it was illicit in every single way.

  After all, I was at a reform school. One that Thorn owned. The mission and vision of Forest Hills was to shape and mold students into better citizens with bright futures. It wasn’t meant for this. I wasn’t supposed to feel these naughty desires, heat pooling between my thighs.

  But my thoughts just wouldn’t stop. I imagined the alpha licking my arousal and fingering me, sucking my breast before ramming into me from behind.

  How would his cock feel?

  It was giant, I was sure.

  It’d stretch me out, making me moan lustily, crying his name.

  Oh god, oh god.

  All of these thoughts were inappropriate.

  More than inappropriate.

  X-rated, NC-17 style. The kind that could land you in jail.

  But I couldn’t control my mind, and the images just kept flashing before my eyes.

  His massive cock out, the tip dripping with lust.

  Me on my knees before the man, licking that shiny glans.

  Me, bent over his desk, squealing as he pushed that huge fuckpole into my tiny twat from behind.

  They can’t throw you in jail for thought crimes, can they?

  Not yet at least.

  And this was all Thorn’s fault. Why did he have to be my therapist? What had happened so that we were assigned to one another? If only Ms. Keller or Ms. Williams had been free, I wouldn’t even be thinking of the Dom right now. Of his mouth on my skin, of his fingers in my pussy, of his tongue licking my clit.

  Oh god. I was screwed.

  I’ve never felt this way before. Definitely not with the boys in my old school. They were Gumby-like shadows compared with the dark man. They were fumbling, drooling fools compared to Master Thorn with the firm hand and big cock.

  Oh god.

  I didn’t even know if he was big. It was only my imagination.

  But an alpha like that has to be huge. There’s no other way.

  My hand snaked to my core. It was clammy and heated, my panties soaked through. Making sure to keep quiet, I stroked my clit and bit back the moan that was ready to erupt. Oh god, oh god. Him. Everywhere. Taking me from every angle.

  And arching my back, two fingers plunged into my sweetest spot.

  Because I could see Thorn again. The alpha cuffing me to that windowsill once more. Slicing off the gray jumpsuit with the sharp steel knife. I felt his mouth on my collar bone even as he forced me to kneel.

  “Oh god,” came my low moan. “Oh god.” Thankfully, the other girls were in Never-Never Land, snoring like lawn mowers.

  Because my imagination went wild then, far beyond what actually happened in the cabin. Thorn’s hands caressing my sides as he moved downwards to my heated core. Kissing the insides of my thighs, and then a sharp stinging sensation as he slaps my clit.

  Oh yeah.

  It was bad, real bad.

  His hand on my nub, slapping it again and again, making me scream.

  “I don’t like liars,” he’d growl before twisting my clit between his fingers. Oh god, oh god! Pleasure and pain arced through my cunt, making me scream.

  “You’re not supposed to lie to me, Miss Evans.”

  Oh god. My finger delved into my core harder and faster, imagining the man with me. A wet squelching sound rang out, barely covered by the snores of my friends.

  I imagined him pulling at my hair as his mouth moved close to my ear.

  “You’ve been a bad girl, Minnie.”

  I imagined him spreading my legs, cuffing them apart so that my thighs couldn’t close. I pictured his shaft, thick, long and dripping with cum.

  I envisioned that smirk as he gazed at my wet folds.

  “You’re a slut, aren’t you?” he’d grind out. “Real slutty with a cunt leaking like a faucet.”

  And then the man would stroke my fo
lds with his dick, letting me feel that hard shaft, so close and yet so far. My fingers moved faster as I imagined Thorn getting ready to fuck me.

  Because Thorn would ram himself into me, stretching me out, breaking apart my hymen in one powerful stroke. He’d hiss in my ear, “You’re so tight, Minnie. You like that? You like me ramming into you hard and fast, my balls slapping your ass?”

  But Thorn is a man of many talents. Because he’d flip me over then and fuck me from behind.

  “Oh you like that don’t you? You liked being fucked from behind.”

  Oh, God, the vixen in me was cruel. I could feel hot juice coating my hand as I rammed my fingers inside my hungry cunt. It was so hard to stop my moans, and I bit my pillow in an attempt. My roommates were asleep. It was the dead of the night and I was pretty sure everyone in the school was under the sandman’s spell.

  “Ohhh, Thorn,” I moaned into the pillow, fingers going at it hard with obscene wet sucking sounds. “Yes, Master.”

  And it happened then. Stars flew before my eyes as my body burst, cunt spasming like it’d just run a marathon.

  “Master, Master!” sounded my muffled cries into the pillow. “Master!”

  Wet juices poured out of my hole, soaking my panties and pajamas. Shit, there was so much that even my bedsheets were stained, damp and aromatic.

  “Thorn!” came my mindless scream again. “Oh Thorn!”

  My pussy just kept erupting. I swear, it’s never been like this before. Hot spasms ran through my channel as I imagined the man dicking me hard, forcing me to take it. Oh yes. Oh god, yes.

  But all good things have to end at some point, and slowly, the spasms slowed to tiny tremors. With a delicious slide, my fingers exited my pussy, drenched and shiny. Arousal wafted from my cunt, the unmistakable smell of sweet female. I closed my eyes, listening to the erratic beating of my heart. Because the fiery vixen in me wasn’t satisfied. She wanted the real deal. She wanted Thorn to satisfy the craving that had blossomed in the pit of my stomach.

  But it was wrong in every way. Possibly even illegal. I wasn’t supposed to imagine Thorn fucking me and filling my tight hole with his huge dick. I wasn’t supposed to imagine him in any position period, because it wasn’t possible. We were student and teacher. End of story.