The Headmaster’s Confession
Laurel Bennett
Copyright Laurel Bennett 2011
Published by Night Shift Publishing
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Laurel Bennett
The Headmaster’s Confession
By Laurel Bennett
“I hear the dragon is on her way to see you,” Albert, my secretary, said to me. His mouth quirked a little at the corners as he said it.
“Which unfortunate girl is she bringing to me now? And what has she done?” I sighed heavily as I closed my ledger. I’d planned to get some business done today. Running a school for girls was not easy. Not when the majority of them refused to follow the instruction of the headmistress. Thank God I was only here once a week. Or when things went poorly. Which seemed to be happening more and more often. “Might it be time to replace Mrs. Haughton?”
“You could only be so fortunate,” he said with a chuckle.
I tossed my quill onto my desk. “Why did I hire you? I thoroughly dislike you.” I rubbed my forehead. The very thought of the dragon headmistress visiting my office with some unsuspecting girl was enough to bring on a megrim. “Can’t you handle this situation for me? I am supposed to escort my wife to a ball in a few hours.” I pulled out my watch fob and flipped it open. “Two hours. Handle this for me?”
“That harpy? You must be bound for Bedlam.” Albert avoided Mrs. Haughton with every step around the property. I knew it, because I employed many of the same techniques. “That is why you are the headmaster,” he said with a grin as he got to his feet and stretched broadly. “You get to make those important decisions every day.” He looked at me askance. “I hear she’s bringing Miss Winters.” His voice dropped off as he looked at me, as though he waited anxiously to see my reaction.
Miss Winters, with her warm smiles and lithe body. My cock twitched at the very thought of her visiting my office.
“I believe the dragon is here,” my secretary whispered dramatically as he walked toward the door. I heard him say good-naturedly, “Good day ladies.” He gestured into the room and they walked in very slowly.
Miss Haughton had her hair pulled back so tightly in a bun that it made her eyes look slanted. But Miss Winters, on the other hand, she was a sight to behold. Her pretty blond head turned as she watched my secretary walk away. Was she looking at his backside? The corners of her mouth lifted only slightly as she licked her lips. I grew even harder behind my desk. Good lord, I wouldn’t even be able to rise to greet them. I groaned to myself, wishing I was anywhere but here.
Miss Haughton didn’t even smile at me. Did she ever smile at all? The only time I’d ever seen her looking least bit happy was when she punished some young lady for some crime or other. I looked at Miss Winters. What on earth had she done now?
“Eyes front,” the headmistress snapped.
Miss Winters’ head snapped around quickly, no longer watching my secretary’s retreat. She smiled at me and dropped into a very proper curtsy. She lifted the hem of her gown only slightly, and I couldn’t help but wish she would raise it higher so I could see a bit of her trim ankles. Oh, dear God, thoughts such as this would get me nowhere. I had to get the thought out of my head. At this point, there was no way I could rise.
Mrs. Haughton didn’t even wait for me to ask any questions. “She is a disgrace to the school, my lord,” she clipped out. She opened her mouth to complete the thought but I held up my hand to stop her. The sound of her voice grated on my ears. I turned to Miss Winters. She’d just turned eighteen years old. And had been at the school since the age of fourteen when her parents had died. She’d always been a bit of a problem. But it was only because her father was a shipping merchant and she’d grown up without the social background many of the other girls had. But she didn’t lack for wealth. Not at all. Nor did she lack beauty. She was like a porcelain doll with all those blond curls. But she had a sprinkle of freckles that crossed her nose. Not wearing her bonnet outside again, he presumed.
“But sir,” Miss Houghton began. I held up my hand again, and she pursed her lips, as though she wanted to curse me to the devil and back. Sometimes I wished she would.
“You may go,” I said. I sighed heavily, templing my hands on the desktop.
Miss Winters frowned and turned toward the door. Where was she going? “Not you, Miss Winters.” I pointed my quill at Miss Haughton. “You.”
The lady sputtered as thought she’d just choked on her tea. “But my lord, I need to tell you what she has done. It’s unseemly. She influences all the other girls. And if she’d not expelled, she’ll ruin them all.”
I highly doubted this little slip of a girl could influence all the others. She was fairly quiet, even if she didn’t conform to certain social constrictions. I raised my brows at Mrs. Haughton and glared, throwing my best stare at her. “You. May. Go.” It was only then that I realized she had a birch stick in her hand. The kind she liked to use to punish the girls. I’d never, not once, used any such item. I’d never raised a hand to a single one of the girls. I might send them to their room without supper. Or force them to read. But I’d never harm one of them. Miss Haughton shuffled in her place, the birch stick whapping her leg as she fidgeted. Then she finally said something beneath her breath and started for the door. “Wait,” I called. She turned back to me with an anxious look. “I’ll have the birch stick.” I held out my hand and I waited for her to turn it over. She looked none too pleased as she placed it in my palm. Then she turned and quit the room, her skirts flurrying about her. I had no desire to see her ankles. Not one bit. Miss Winters, on the other hand…
My cock twitched at the very thought of her. I still couldn’t stand. “Close the door,” I said.
Miss Winters looked at me as though I’d grown two heads, those blue eyes blinking in question. I didn’t have time to wait for the erection to pass. I lowered my forehead into my palm again and massaged it. “Close the blasted door, Miss Winters,” I repeated. She moved quickly to do so. She obviously warred with the impropriety of it. But I had a feeling Miss Haughton would be nearby, just waiting to hear my verdict about her behavior. And I didn’t want to give the woman the satisfaction.
I pointed to the chair across from my desk. “Sit, Miss Winters.”
Miss Winters did so, gingerly, balancing her bum on the edge of the chair. “I can explain, my lord,” she rushed to say.
God, she was pretty. She stole the words right from my mouth when she looked at my lips. My lips. Good God, I could do wonderful things to her with my lips. I could already taste her on my tongue.
I held up a hand to stop her explanation. “The last time I saw you, it was beca
use you absolutely refused to wear appropriate underthings. You put the headmistress in a fit. Has that been remedied?” Great. Now I could only think about her unmentionables. I imagined her perched on the edge of her chair in nothing more than her corset and stockings with her breasts spilling over the top. I’d lift them and tug her nipple into my mouth. I wanted to see her face as I tasted her. I shook the thoughts away. This was doing nothing but making the ache in my manhood worse.
“That was a foolish thing to involve you in, in my opinion,” she said, her voice quavering a bit.
“Indeed.” It was a foolish thing to involve him in. Miss Haughton should have known better. But my eyes strayed down Miss Winters’ torso. She was slim in all the right places. And plump in all the other right places. “Are you wearing one now?”
She fidgeted only slightly, and a blush crept up her cheeks. “I am.”
“So you are a good girl.” I didn’t mean to say that aloud. But it was in my head, and evidently, my tongue was loosened by the fact that all my blood was rushing to my cock. I appraised the look on her face, trying to figure out if she could sense any of my improper thoughts. She was such an innocent – probably not. A small part of me wished she did. So I could act on it. I shook the thoughts away. Such thoughts would get me in trouble.
“I try to be,” she said quietly. She tried to be what? What had I asked her? Oh, if she was a good girl.
“Then why are you here?” I asked. I leaned forward and rested my chin on the heel of my hand. I could prop myself up and just stare at her all day.
“Miss Loughton would like for you to punish me,” she informed me, her voice shaky but strong.
“For?” I was almost afraid to ask.
She sighed heavily. “Must we discuss it? Can I just take the punishment?” Her gaze strayed toward the birch stick I’d discarded on my desk.
“The punishment must fit the crime,” I quipped. A grin tugged at my lips. I tried to hold it back, but I failed miserably. I arched a brow at her, waiting for her to confess all of her crimes.
“I touched myself.”
Oh, dear heavens. Did she just say she touched herself? Her face flushed scarlet. I coughed into my hand, trying to find enough voice to speak. It wouldn’t be good for me to croak out my next words. I had to be a professional. A headmaster. And actually think with the head upon my shoulders. “Touched yourself?” I repeated.
She gulped. I watched her throat move and all I could think about was pressing my lips to it to calm her. She didn’t look at me. She looked everywhere but my face. Look into my eyes. Let me see you. What you’re thinking. What you’re feeling.
“Where?” My voice sounded raspy to my own ears. What must it sound like to hers?
“Down there,” she whispered as she dropped her face into her hands. She breathed quietly for a moment, making no other noises. Then she finally looked up through her parted fingers, not even taking her hands down. Her blue eyes blinked at me and I’d never seen anything so pretty. So alluring. So innocent of any wrongdoing. A heavy groan escaped my throat and I coughed to hide it. My cock pulsed in my trousers and I reached down to adjust it. Her eyes followed my hand, but I was beyond caring. My stones ached at the very thought of this little slip of a girl touching herself. Of those pretty little fingers sliding through her wetness to stroke her clit. Of those rose-colored lips letting out tiny cries as she gave herself pleasure.
“Take your hands down, Miss Winters.”
She did, but she still didn’t look at me.
“Look at me.” I ordered. She complied, and drew her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it. I wanted to draw her lower lip between my own and sooth it. “Where did you learn such a thing?” I asked, instead. Her mouth opened and then closed. Like she wanted to speak, but was afraid. “I need to know, Miss Winters.”
“From you,” she cried out, as she jumped to her feet. “I learned it from you.” She put her hands on her slim little hips and glared at me. Her bosom heaved with each heavy breath.
“I dare say I taught you no such thing, young lady.” This time, heat crept up my own face. I must be red as a tomato. I’d lusted for the girl for all of five minutes. Well, perhaps I’d lusted more, but this time, it had only been for five minutes.
She circled around my desk to stand in front of me. The lilac scent of her assaulted my nose before she even came close. “I saw you,” she accused. Her eyes roamed down my body and settled in my lap. Her brow arched as she smiled. It was the smile of an innocent. And it set my blood to boiling. My trousers were tented by my hardened cock. I adjusted to cover it with my arm. But it was too big to be hidden. What the hell? I sighed heavily and gave up. She smiled, her eyes dragging across my cock again. She may as well have reached out and touched it, it hit me that hard. I wiped a trickle of sweat from my temple.
I couldn’t imagine what on earth she was referring to. “You saw me?” I cleared my throat. “What was I doing when you saw me?”
“You were in the back stairwell. Miss Houghton had sent me to gather some supplies, and I heard the noises.”
“Noises?”
“Grunting, mostly. And she was crying out.”
She licked her lips again. “She?”
“One of the maids.” She looked me right in the eye. “You were shagging one of the maids in the back stairwell.” She fluttered her hands nervously. “I watched.”
“You watched?”
“I couldn’t stop watching. I just couldn’t.”
I sat back. My cock was purely visible now, but I didn’t care. She’d seen me shag one of the maids, for heaven’s sake. She’d probably seen all of my cock already. Seeing it behind my trousers couldn’t make the situation any worse. And there was nothing I could do to make it go away. Not with the scent of her so close. Not with the heat of her so close. “You watched me shag the maid. And that led to you touching yourself.”
“Well, yes.” She began to pace. Her voice shook, but she continued as though she spoke of the weather. “She was crying out. And she really wanted to finish, she said. But she couldn’t. So, you touched her. You touched her and began to rub her. And she found great pleasure at it, although I didn’t know how at the time.” She took a deep breath. “So, I tried it.”
“And?” My hand lowered of its own accord to rasp against my cock head. She smiled and her cheeks turned even rosier.
“And I liked it.”
“And Miss Houghton caught you at it?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. That nasty little new girl caught me. Evidently, I made a noise as I… you know.” My heart thumped heavily at the very thought of watching this girl find pleasure.
“You know?” I choked out.
“As I… finished. I really don’t know what it’s called. But it’s when I quiver and it sort of feels like some kind of ecstasy washes over me.” She stopped pacing to look at me. “She told on me.” I would have given my last shilling to see the look on Mrs. Haughton’s face when she repeated the tale.
“And you say you learned this behavior from me?” I asked. “When I stroked the maid?” I vaguely remembered the encounter.
“Yes. So, you see, my lord, it’s quite your fault that I am in trouble.”
I held up a hand to stop her speech. I needed a moment to compose myself. She bit down on that bottom lip again. Good lord, she would force me to kiss her before our talk was done.
“Are you still an innocent, Miss Winters?” I asked softly. I watched as goose bumps settled upon her arms.
“Well, in the general sense of the term,” she prevaricated.
If she’d hit me over the head with an anvil, I wouldn’t have been more surprised.
“I’ve never been with a man, but my maidenhead is gone. I’m fairly certain.” She lifted her hand to her mouth and began to chew on her fingernail. She said it as though we discussed the weather. Like we weren’t talking about her innocence or a man breaching the core of her. I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket to mop my brow.
>
“And how, pray tell, did that happen if you have never been with a man.”
“I think I did it myself,” she said.
“With?” I imagined her fingers sinking into her depths, making a squelching noise as she pressed them inside herself. Dear God.
“Does it matter?”
I shook my head. I’d never been so taken aback. I wanted this little slip of a girl more than I wanted my next breath. I had to ask. This conversation was the thing of fantasies. I’d use it later when I shagged my wife. “How often do you pleasure yourself?”
She looked me right in the eye. “As often as I can?”
I grinned like a school boy. I was certain every tooth in my head was showing.
“And do you often find pleasure?”
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