Bad Virgin

by Kelli Callahan

  “Ouch!” I squealed and lifted up off the desk as the searing agony of the paddle made my ass sting even more. “No sir...”

  “I’m done playing nice with spoiled little rich brats like you.” He brought the paddle down a third time.

  “Ow! Please, Mr. Thorne, it hurts!” I reached back and started to rub my ass, feeling it warm and tender to the touch.

  “Put your hands back on the other side of the desk. You just earned yourself an extra swat for not staying in position for your punishment.” He nudged my hand with the edge of the paddle.

  “What? No!” I turned my head towards him and felt my lips quivering as I spoke. My hands continued to rub my ass furiously, trying to make the sting go away.

  “Now you’ve earned yourself two extra swats. Would you like to go for a third?” He glared at me.

  “No sir!” Tears started to well up in my eyes as I moved my hands back to the other side of the desk and looked at the wall.

  “I would recommend that you get used to this position.” The paddle came down a fourth time. “You’re going to be in it every time you misbehave from now on.”

  “Ouch! I’m sorry!” I squealed again and the tears rushed from the corner of my eyes.

  “You can either do what you’re supposed to do, or you can make regular visits to my office and bare your ass for the paddle.” The paddle swung and connected with my exposed ass again, lifting me slightly off the floor as it did.

  “I won’t do anything wrong again, I swear!” I bounced in place, but I kept my hands firmly where they were supposed to be.

  “Now for the extra two you earned.” The paddle came down twice in a row, the second hitting before I even recovered from the first.

  “Ow! Ouch!” I squirmed on the desk, twisting and turning against the wood.

  “You can stay in position until the end of detention.” He put the paddle on the desk.

  “Yes sir!” I nodded quickly, not wanting to disobey him at all.

  The man that swung the paddle was nothing like the Mr. Thorne I knew. Mr. Thorne was quiet, seemed nervous when he was around me, and was afraid to even raise his voice at students. Something had changed in him. He went back to his office while I stayed in position on the desk. I was scared to move—I didn’t want to incur more of his wrath. The sting in my ass started to fade after several minutes and I felt another sensation. It had been present while I was getting paddled, but the sting kept it at bay—I was getting aroused.

  The way Mr. Thorne snapped when he saw me without my panties was hot as hell. He didn’t cower in fear or send me on my way—he took control of the situation and gave me a punishment that I would remember for the rest of my life. I looked at the paddle laying next to me and just seeing it made me wet. I didn’t enjoy getting paddled, but the feeling of losing all control and being forced to do exactly what he said was strange. I pulled my legs together when I heard his footsteps in the hallway. I didn’t want him to see how turned on I was.

  “Detention is over. You can go now.” He waited by the door.

  “Yes sir.” I reached back and pulled my skirt down as I leaned up from the desk. I had to do an awkward shimmy to pick my things up off of the floor and when I stood back up, the wetness had spread to my inner thighs.

  “Remember what I said.” He grabbed my arm as I walked past him. He pulled me so close I was against his shoulder. “If you misbehave again, you’ll be right back in that position.”

  “I won’t forget.” I looked up into his eyes and the intensity of his stare caused me to have to look away.

  My feet carried me down the hallway as fast as I could go, smearing more of the excitement between my legs. I couldn’t wait until I got home to deal with the fire that the paddling had started. I closed my car door and grimaced when my ass touched the seat, but I immediately spread my legs and pushed a hand under my skirt. I had never been so turned on in my life. There were certainly guys that got me excited and I thought about them when I was alone in my room, but Mr. Thorne had ignited something inside of me that was stronger than any fantasy I had ever created. My clitoris was already a swollen knot when my finger pushed against it. I rubbed it furiously, feeling the pleasure engulf me as I gave in to my desires. It didn’t take more than a few rotations until I was leaned against the seat with my mouth open while moans roared from my throat. I rubbed even harder and felt the orgasm building quick. I needed it so bad I could taste it. I envisioned myself back over his desk, feeling the paddle again, and then my thoughts shifted to something else—the muscles under his shirt being exposed, the intense eyes locked on mine as he climbed between my legs. The fantasy sent me over the edge and I started to orgasm. I rubbed until the pleasure was gone and finally leaned forward. My eyes opened slowly and then got wide when I saw Mr. Thorne standing on the steps of the school. His intense stare was focused right on me.

  “Oh god...” I cranked up my car and quickly drove out of the parking lot, feeling my heart beating hard in my chest.

  Chapter 7: Anton

  I don’t know what came over me when I decided to paddle Bethany. I was thinking about all the horror stories my brother had told me, the way she made Mr. Matthews cower in fear, and the total lack of respect she showed in general. All of those thoughts came together in one blind moment of anger. Once the words left my lips, I couldn’t very well take them back. If I didn’t follow through, she would have won—she would have asserted the same dominance over me she had over everyone else and that wasn’t going to happen.

  I was glad that it was Friday night because I needed a break from Grantham University. I couldn’t get Bethany’s curves or her delicious ass out of my mind as I sat on the couch sipping a beer. I wanted to do a lot more than paddle her beautiful ass, but I knew I couldn’t give in to those temptations—especially when it seemed to be more than just punishment for her. I was almost positive she was masturbating in her car when I walked outside the school.

  “So, are you ready to give up yet?” My brother walked out of his room with a glass of whiskey in his hand. It looked like his penchant for day drinking hadn’t stopped, even after he was away from the school.

  “Give up?” I looked at him as he walked in and took a seat. He was still wearing his bathrobe and it didn’t look like he had shaved—which meant he hadn’t shaved at all since the day I took over for him.

  “I think it’s probably time for me to get back to work and see what a mess you’ve made of the school.” He chuckled. “I can’t believe I haven’t been fired yet.”

  “The school is fine.” I sipped my beer and put it back on the table. “Everything’s going great.”

  “Great—by your standards? I don’t even want to imagine how fucked up it is.” He rolled his eyes and lifted his glass to his lips.

  “Let’s see...” I smiled and tilted my head. “I’ve put all the kids you warned me about in their place—including Bethany Lewis—and the teachers actually have control of their classrooms.”

  “That’s impossible.” He chuckled again. “They’re just playing you, I promise. Those teachers don’t have a backbone.”

  “What about you?” I was a bit annoyed by what he was saying.

  “Me?” He blinked a couple of times.

  “Yeah, what about your backbone? You couldn’t handle a bunch of kids?” I reached for my beer again.

  “They’re not kids! They’re demons!” His tone started to reflect anger. “Rich little spoiled demons!”

  “They’re just disrespectful. You can’t ask for respect or expect to reason with them. You have to show them that you are in control. That goes for the teachers as well. It doesn’t matter if the students are old enough to be in college or if some of them probably should be in prison, you just have to show them you aren’t going to put up with their shit.” I tilted my beer back and took another sip.

  “Yeah—you try that. Then you’ll get a visit from their parents and you’ll see why they’re like that.” He shook his head and his ey
es filled with anguish.

  “I got a visit from one of them.” I nodded.

  “Oh yeah? Which one?” He sipped his whiskey again.

  “Braden Steele’s father. He wasn’t happy I suspended his son.” I chuckled and shrugged. “I handled him.”

  “Braden Steele? You suspended Braden Steele? Are you out of your mind?” His eyes got wide with concern.

  “And I dealt with his father. Everything is fine. His father understood.” I kept the details thin—if Sloane knew exactly what I did, he would probably die on the spot.

  “I..” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Next you’ll be telling me you suspended Bethany Lewis and she did cartwheels out the front door.”

  “I didn’t suspend her. I didn’t have to.” I smiled. “Let’s just say she won’t have an easy time sitting down at the dinner table tonight.”

  “What?” It took a moment for what I said to register. “You didn’t...”

  “I paddled her.” I nodded. “The handbook says it’s an acceptable method of dealing with behavior.”

  “That handbook is twenty years old! We don’t paddle students anymore!” His jaw fell halfway down his chest. “Oh my god, I’m going to get sued.”

  “It’ll be fine, trust me. She isn’t going to tell anyone what happened. Her pride won’t let her.” I sipped my beer again. “But, I don’t think she’ll be eager to end up in detention again.”

  Or maybe she will...

  “This is insanity. I made a mistake. I’m going to have to go back on Monday.” He put his whiskey glass on the table and buried his head in his hands.

  “You were about to quit. I’m not done turning things around yet. Let me keep working and you enjoy your vacation.” I reached over and put my hand on his arm. “Things will be much better when you return, I promise.”

  My brother was certainly nervous, but in the end, he finally agreed to let me keep working on my plan to turn the school around. What I said to him wasn’t entirely true. The school was already in good shape and outside of minor issues, most of the students had fallen in line. He could have taken back over on Monday and probably found the job ten times easier than it was when he left. The problem was—I didn’t want to leave.

  I didn’t want to be away from Bethany or her delicious curves. The way her hips moved and her pussy glistened when the paddle landed on her ass was all I could think about. If the stories were true, she was no stranger to the thing I wanted to do to her. The next time she found herself bent over a desk, it might not just be for the paddle. After my brother went to bed, I lay on the couch and images of her ran through my head.

  I bet that pussy is so tight—she’s never been fucked by a real man.

  My hand was a poor substitute for what I really wanted, but it was all I had. I could have hit up a bar and found someone to bring back to my brother’s couch, but none of them would have compared to Bethany. I stroked my cock through my pants and started to unfasten them. My brother was already passed out so I didn’t have to worry about him walking out of his bedroom. I unbuttoned my shirt once my cock was exposed and closed my eyes. I imagined Bethany there with me, riding my cock with the same lust on her face that I saw while she was in her car. I had to get pretty damn creative in my head when I was locked up, trying to get my thrill when the lights went out. None of those thoughts were as intense as the images of Bethany dancing in my head. I moved my hand up and down my cock slow, feeling it swell even more as the pleasure brought it to life.

  I’m going to do very dirty things to you, Ms. Lewis.

  My hand went down to my balls and then back to the top of my cock with a single stroke, each one getting a little faster than the one before it. I knew what her pussy looked like, I knew what her ass looked like, but I had to imagine her naked tits bouncing while she rode me. The shirts she wore were so tight that it wasn’t difficult. I imagined both of her tits in my hands as she lifted up and down, letting my cock slide deep inside her pussy. She was probably the kind of girl that rode a cock like her life depended on it, chasing an orgasm like a maniac. If the fury of what she was doing in her car was any indication, she didn’t hold back when she wanted to cum. I would teach her things that none of the guys at the school could teach her—I would teach her how to worship my cock and beg for more.

  Don’t stop—don’t stop until you make me cum.

  In my fantasy, my hands drifted down from her breasts and started to hold her hips while she bucked them against me. The fantasy was intense and I could feel the pressure building up in my balls. It built until I was so close to an orgasm that my hips were moving up as my hand came down. I grabbed a napkin from the table and held it to the end of my cock. The pressure got more intense as I imagined Bethany moaning and begging for me to fuck her harder. In my mind, I was happy to oblige. The pressure got even stronger and the pleasure sent a release of dopamine through my body. I clenched the head of my cock with the napkin as I imagined myself deep inside of her and ready to unload. The sticky streams of cum rushed through my cock and erupted against the napkin. I stroked faster, sending more cum shooting through the shaft until I was drained.

  Chapter 8: Bethany

  I got home and could barely make eye contact with my parents. My mother couldn’t pass up a chance to have a traditional sit down dinner and my brother was visiting for the weekend, which meant there was no way we were going to eat in front of the television. I winced when I sat down in my chair, feeling the effects of the paddle still lingering on my ass. The sting was gone, but it still hurt when I put pressure on it.

  I kept a fake smile on my face while my brother went through his accolades and explained how well he was doing as the shining star of our family. It made me want to throw up in my mouth just hearing it. Everything was so perfect for him.

  When the conversation shifted to me, I just told them everything was fine. My parents had learned not to pry. The few times they prodded me enough to get a genuine answer, it had just been a round of disappointment echoing in the room. Thankfully, Amy came over after dinner and bailed me out of familial bliss.

  “How did detention go?” She dropped her purse on my bed and plopped down onto the quilt.

  “Well...” There was no way I could tell her the truth. “It was interesting.”

  “Did you get out early? What was your big plan to make Mr. Matthews squirm this time?” She bit down on her lip and grinned.

  “It didn’t work, I had to stay for the full hour.” I sighed and shook my head.

  “What? Mr. Matthews is trying to be a hard-ass. What the hell has come over these teachers lately—and Mr. Thorne?” Her expression changed to an annoyed one as she shook her head.

  “Yeah—Mr. Matthews didn’t handle detention today. It was Mr. Thorne.” I sat down on the bed next to her and turned so that I was facing her with my legs crossed. “Something is really different with him.”

  “I’m just going to steer clear of him. I can’t afford to end up getting suspended or fuck—expelled.” She cringed at the mention of the word.

  “Nothing you’ve ever done has been worthy of getting you expelled.” I extended a foot and nudged her playfully.

  “Yeah, you’re the one that gets in trouble.” She laughed and grabbed my foot. “I’m just really bad at school.”

  “Stop it.” I pushed my foot forward and then pulled it out of her hand. “If I was better at school I wouldn’t be at Grantham University.”

  “After the last week, I’m ready to be done with this high school crap. I always thought Braden and Frank were cool as hell, but after watching them crumble to Mr. Thorne, I think I need to find some new guys to obsess over.” Amy twisted her lip in contemplate. “I’m done with boys—I need a man.”

  “Yeah, I’m feeling that way myself.” I didn’t take the sentence further and tell her that the man I was thinking about was Mr. Thorne himself.

  Amy and I kept talking for hours, sharing gossip about various classmates and their encoun
ters with Mr. Thorne. I was the only one that had felt his paddle—or at least the others were being as secretive as I was if it happened to them. If I was the only one, then I was definitely special. I was either the only one terrible enough to bring out that side of him, or everyone else was hiding behind their pride like I was. It was hard to know which one was more realistic. What I did know was that I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  After Amy left and I was alone in my bed, those thoughts were present again. My hand slid into my pajama pants and I satisfied the craving I had with the same thoughts that made me cum when I was in my car. It wasn’t the only time I masturbated that weekend. I shattered my personal record, finding every excuse in the world to retreat to my room and rub my clitoris until I erupted in bliss. I was trapped in a fantasy I couldn’t escape.

  There has to be more to this—there’s no way Mr. Thorne changed like that overnight.

  My curiosity got the best of me as Mr. Thorne weighed on my mind. The muscled torso I saw pressed against his shirt didn’t match the man I had seen with his pants around his knees. There was just no way he could have transformed like that—unless he just skipped leg day for eternity. I started searching for Mr. Thorne online, going through the limited social media presence he had, and finally just putting his name in a search engine. A particular story caught my eye and when I pulled up the article, I saw a familiar face staring back at me. It wasn’t Sloane Thorne—the name below the image was Anton Thorne.

  My heart started racing as I sat up in my bed with intense curiosity. The mystery was getting even more intriguing. Anton Thorne was a criminal. He was a total bad boy, hot-as-sin, and the few pictures I found of him looked a whole lot like the Mr. Thorne I had spent my time with. I pulled them up side by side and the difference was noticeable, but it was clear they were twins.

  Holy shit—Mr. Thorne didn’t change overnight—he was replaced.

  Things started to make a lot more sense when the reality was in front of me. Once my eyes were opened to it, there was no mistake in my mind that the man who paddled me was Anton Thorne. I had no idea if the real Mr. Thorne was dead somewhere and his brother was living his life or if he really did get pushed so far over the edge that he lost his mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if he sent his brother as punishment for all the things we did to him and the way we treated him.