The Dirty Headmaster

by Cassandra Dee

  And yet my thoughts wouldn’t stop. Thorn was a good looking man. Hell, good looking was an understatement. He was gorgeous, with a presence that commanded all eyes. The alpha was dominant and ruthless, so sure of himself. Every girl within a sixty mile radius would drop her panties for him. Not just every girl. Every woman, every granny, even great-grandmas.

  Because the headmaster was one of a kind, with a powerful aura that couldn’t be denied. Oh god, oh god. I sat up on my bed and looked for something to clean myself off with. There was nothing except a small hand towel, so I made do with that before flopping down on the thin mattress.

  Because there was also real life. My father enrolled me in this institution because he claimed that I was trouble. All fake. So what if I had low grades? They weren’t that bad. I could still graduate, but Pat wasn’t having it. He told everyone that his eighteen year old daughter was shiftless and worthless.

  But again, it was lies. It was totally made-up when we both knew, deep down, that I didn’t need to be straightened out.

  But now there was Master Thorn. Whatever my reason for being here, the alpha wanted to help me. He wanted to get me on the straight and narrow, enforcing discipline and rigor. He wanted to teach me the ways of a woman using that naughty tool box. And suddenly, being here didn’t seem so bad anymore. In fact, I couldn’t wait for more … with the dark man leading the way.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Thorn

  It would be a lie if I said I didn’t look forward to Wednesdays now. Because I do. Too much. I almost counted the days, watching the clock as the hours slipped by. It’s wrong to think about a student like this. Probably even illegal. But if Minnie was concerned, then who gave a shit? Not me.

  And now we were back for another counseling session. I waited patiently in the cabin. This was just another example of things gone wrong because what therapist holds sessions in their private cabin? The place was mine, and only I had the key. So messed up. It made what we were doing even worse.

  But then again, what were we doing exactly?

  Shit.

  I swear, this has never happened before.

  I’ve never even been tempted. Hundreds of girls have passed through my schools, and it’s never been a problem.

  But Minnie’s different.

  Young, but with a knowing look in those caramel eyes.

  Innocent, yet simultaneously seductive.

  The spanking happened a week ago, the images of the sweet redhead raging through my brain again and again. Those lush curves bouncing and jiggling as my palm bounced off her ass. Giant tits dangling from that narrow torso as she leaned forwards, gasping with arousal.

  But despite the X-rated images, nothing’s happened in real life since last week. In fact, I haven’t even seen the female, making sure to keep my distance. Because teen girls are susceptible. They attach far more quickly than adult women. A kind word, a nice gesture, and that’s all it takes.

  They’re in love.

  So I was determined to avoid that. We weren’t going in that direction, no way no how.

  Minnie was safe, even if she didn’t know it.

  Because a long time ago, there was Miranda Feller. Miranda wasn’t one of my students. In fact, Forest Hills didn’t even exist then. Miranda was someone I met at a sex club, an eighteen year-old naïf with curves out to there and a sweet, winsome smile.

  Back then I was using contracts, so I made her sign one early on.

  Miranda’s eyes scanned the paper nervously.

  “Is this what I think it is?” she whispered, big green eyes flickering to mine.

  I arched an eyebrow.

  “Are you willing, Miss Feller?” was my low rumble.

  She gulped audibly.

  “It says here that you’re gonna hurt me,” came her murmur. Of course. That was the point of the contract. I needed to be protected so she didn’t run off to the police, screaming bloody murder.

  But I maintained an air of calm.

  “It’s only for your pleasure,” was my agreeable answer. “Only if you want.”

  And that’s how it started. Miranda signed her name, I signed mine, and our D/s relationship was on.

  But then things changed. At first it was okay, we followed the letter of the contract to a T. But after a couple months, Miranda became different. Her eyes began following me everywhere, glued to my form. Her pants of “Master, Master” became imbued with emotion, body and mind straining towards me at all hours.

  Because Miranda wanted more than I could give her. She wanted something dazzling that went beyond the physical. It was insane. She was obsessed to the point that she wanted us to get married. Tying the knot? Are you shitting me? No way, not ever. Not in a million years.

  So I ended it. It was brutal for sure. Tears, recriminations, the girl on her knees clinging to my legs, begging me not to go. Exactly why I had a contract in the first place. To set boundaries.

  But Miranda wouldn’t give up. Unexpectedly, the woman showed up one night at a private party. I cursed upon seeing her. How the hell did she get in? Most subs can’t enter without a Dom sponsoring them.

  “What are you doing here?” was my low growl. The sweet young thing on my arm excused herself to get a drink, brows raised.

  But Miranda didn’t even notice, staring at my form worshipfully, eyes damp with tears.

  “Why can’t you just love me?” she asked plaintively. “Why, Thorn, why?”

  Shit, that was a bad night. We had to call security to remove the brunette, screaming and crying, wailing my name for all to hear. Frankly, it was embarrassing.

  So yeah, after that, young subs are out. The females are impressionable and naive. They get attached too easily. Now, I stick to the ones who’ve been in the lifestyle for a while. It’s better that way. No confusion. No teary confrontations. A contract that spells out our relationship, every i dotted and every t crossed.

  But there was something about Minnie that lured me in. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. With my eyes closed, that curvy body danced in my mind once more, hands bound to the windowsill, ass in the air.

  Shit, that ass had felt good against my palm. Round, lush, my hand literally bouncing off there was so much flesh. What would it feel like when I rammed and pounded myself into that bottom? Fucking heaven, that’s what.

  So yeah, I should get my contract out right now. I should fill in Minnie’s name and force her to sign it. But something’s stopping me, making me think twice. For one, it seems too transactional. Of course, I’m a business-minded guy, but we don’t know each other that well yet. There was no sense in acting prematurely.

  Second, maybe I’d already overstepped. Because maybe Minnie wanted to stop tonight. Maybe she’d already prepared an ultimatum, no more or she went to the police. So yeah, a contract was premature.

  I looked at the wooden box and slowly opened it. My eyes scanned the toys inside. There was the collection of dildos, from a tiny two-incher to a massive black stud. My hand gripped that rubbery flesh in anticipation. Shit, this monster would look so good stuffed in Minnie’s tiny cunt, her pink pussy lips hugging it tight as the female moaned.

  And there were other items as well. Butt plugs galore. Whips. Chains. Handcuffs. Nipple clamps. You name it, it was in there. But there was no sense in pulling out the stash now. So instead, I locked the chest and laid my hand on the rough wood, just thinking.

  I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be lusting after a student. I shouldn’t be imagining Minnie in all sorts of compromised positions, big titties hanging out, pretty cunt creaming. I was supposed to transform troubled teens into model citizens, not slapping ass as the girl screamed.

  But Minnie loved it. I saw the way pleasure erupted inside that curvaceous form, how her eyes closed with each spank, mouth slightly open. I saw how she relished the sensual pain, wriggling involuntarily with each strike. And the girl never looked so beautiful, curves encased in nothing but the tiniest panties while chained to the windowsill. />
  “I don’t like lying, Minnie,” I’d ground out, palming her ass before slamming it again, letting the sting sear directly to her core. And oh shit, oh shit. With each hit, the dark spot on her panties grew, that pussy leaking non-stop.

  “Oh Master Thorn,” she’d moaned, head dangling forwards, eyes closed. By now, Minnie’s hands were gripping the windowsill with white knuckles. “Yes, Thorn, yes.”

  The redhead was absolutely gorgeous. Her nipples were rock hard, pink crests dying to be tasted. It had taken every ounce of willpower to keep going, when all I wanted to do was drop to my knees and catch that tempting candy in my mouth. But no. There was punishment to mete out.

  And exerting every ounce of self-control, I hit her five times and then stopped. Oh shit, there was so much possibility there. I could have gone to town on that sweet body, showed her how a real man dominates. But it was enough for the time being. Her bottom was red, the girl’s breath escaping in frenzied moans and gasps. Her panties were practically soaked through, a tiny rivulet running down one big thigh.

  Because yeah, Minnie’s a slut. She’d loved it.

  I’d brought the female to the edge of bliss, teaching her control and discipline.

  Every nerve in her body was on fire, Lesson One complete.

  But this week, I had something altogether different planned. Lesson Two was gonna be fun.

  Suddenly a soft rap sounded. She was here. Good.

  “Come in.”

  Minnie slowly opened the door and came inside. As always, the redhead was incredibly lush and tempting, even in that gray sack. The canvas fabric couldn’t mask the enormous tits or the giant rump that swayed behind.

  “Good evening, Headmaster,” Minnie spoke softly.

  “Master,” I corrected her. “Just Master is enough.”

  “Yes of course, Master,” she said, cheeks coloring. “I understand.”

  We were off to an excellent start.

  The girl nodded meekly and took a seat in the chair across from me. I pulled out my notebook. I was still her therapist after all. There was real business at hand, the work of bettering a teen girl.

  “So how has your week been, Miss Evans?”

  Minnie shrugged slowly.

  “It’s better than I thought it would be.”

  Our eyes locked for a fleeting moment, an electric arc sizzling through the air. The unspoken loomed. But not yet, it was too soon.

  “How are you dealing with your new roommates?” I asked smoothly, expression professional.

  The redhead actually smiled then.

  “They’re great,” she confided. “Nicole, Bex and Samantha think I’m really good at putting on makeup. They let me experiment on them sometimes.”

  I nodded, blue eyes cool.

  “Tell me more about how you got into cosmetics,” was my low rumble. “How did you develop an interest?”

  The girl perked up, eagerness lighting that beautiful mien.

  “Well, my mom was the one who introduced me. You know that’s why my dad hates me,” she added hastily, biting her lip. “But yeah, it was my mom Elaine initially. She’d let me play with the cheap items she bought from the drugstore.”

  “Did Elaine let you practice on her?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  Minnie giggled then.

  “No, I started when I was ten, before I could even grasp a blush brush properly. So at first, it was mostly experimenting on myself. Whenever I was done with homework, I’d open one of Mom’s Wet n’ Wonderful lipsticks, and paint my mouth. Eeek! That stuff is no good,” she confided. “So waxy that it’s almost impossible to use. But when you’re ten it doesn’t matter,” she added with a smile. “And after lots and lots of practice, I perfected my technique.”

  Her eyes shone with delight recounting the tale.

  “And then I started doing make-up on others. First, just my friend Dina. And then other people started noticing. Some of the girls would ask me to do their makeup when they went on dates. They actually paid me for my work. Not much, like ten bucks a pop, but I was thrilled. And I got good results too. I can transform even the homeliest girl into a prom princess.”

  I nodded, jotting notes the entire time.

  “But why don’t you wear make-up yourself?” I asked curiously. Then leaning forwards, I squinted a little. “Or are you wearing some? Sorry sweetheart, the light in here isn’t great.”

  Minnie bit her lower lip, that perfect cupid’s bow going slightly red.

  “I know this might sound weird but I don’t really like putting makeup on myself. Don’t get me wrong, I love creating looks for others. But when you’re a redhead like me, it’s easy to start looking like a clown. So I don’t wear that much on a day to day basis. Plus, it seems weird to have a face full of powder while you’re dressed in a prison jumpsuit,” she added ruefully.

  That was true.

  “Yes, I think you mentioned that at our first meeting,” was my smooth growl.

  She nodded again, hesitantly this time though.

  “Is it bad, Master Thorn? Should I wear more cosmetics? Is that what you’d like to see?”

  The last question was asked on a whisper, barely audible.

  A low growl emanated in my throat.

  “No sweetheart. You look beautiful the way you are, natural and glowing. But let’s discuss this topic on a macro level. So what do you want from life, Miss Evans? What do you want in your future, and how can cosmetic artistry get you there?”

  The girl bit her lip again, eyes shifting away.

  “I don’t know,” came her soft murmur. But then those big caramel eyes met mine. “I just know what I want right now.”

  My jaw clenched, every nerve in my body springing alive. Oh shit, oh sit. Was this going where I thought it was going?

  But I managed a cool and collected response.

  “What is it, Miss Evans? What do you want right now?”

  She gulped audibly before swinging those sweet chocolate eyes my way again, this time her cheeks tinted pink.

  “I want what we did last week,” came that barely audible whisper. “You know.”

  Her answer flipped a switch in me. The alpha woke with a vengeance, ready to conquer. No more sympathetic therapist. No more gentle, probing questions designed to bring out the conflict within. Instead, we were getting down stat.

  My eyes devoured hers, jaw tight.

  “Did it turn you on, Minnie?” came my throaty rasp.

  She didn’t even hesitate

  “Yes,” she answered breathlessly, a beautiful flush decorating those cheeks. “Everything you did was exciting, Master Thorn. Everything.”

  My cock strained in my pants, ready to burst on a moment’s notice. But it was too early.

  “Then we’ll have another lesson in discipline, Miss Evans,” came my growl. “Is that what you want? Discipline for a needy girl?”

  Right about now would be a good time to pull out the D/s contract. But I didn’t. The scene was unfolding beautifully, and there was no need to break our flow.

  And slowly, Minnie bit her lip and nodded.

  “Good,” was my rumble. “Go to the wooden box and get the handcuffs again.”

  I watched as the redhead opened the wooden chest, cheeks coloring upon seeing the contents. But then the female pulled out the restraints, padding softly until she stood in front of my form.

  I took the handcuffs like an emperor receiving his tribute.

  “Kneel,” came my harsh command.

  We were no longer headmaster and student. We were the Dom and his sub. And Minnie knew it. Immediately, the girl sank gracefully to the floor, head bowed like a good little girl.

  And this time, I cuffed her hands behind her back. Grabbing the knife from my drawer once more, I sliced her jumpsuit off with a few swift strokes. The rip of the canvas was fucking loud in the cabin, Minnie’s heavy breathing the only sound.

  The girl didn’t move though, even as the shiny blade came within millimeters of that tender f
lesh. She held still, unmoving, clad only in her bra and panties. Her breathing was short and shallow, anticipating what came next.

  And shit yeah, I sliced off her bra with a nick of my knife, that tiny scrap of lace falling to the floor.

  Shit shit shit.

  Those big boobies tumbled out, large, luscious and inviting. The sacks of cream beckoned like swinging balls, my mouth already watering involuntarily. What would they taste like? My dick jerked as her pink crests grew more pronounced, pebbling with need.

  But this wasn’t the time.

  Not yet.

  I moved in front of the female, gazing at the tableau before me. Because nothing had ever looked so appetizing. A creamy teen kneeling on the floor, red hair strewn over her shoulders. Those giant tits heaving slightly as her cunt seeped down below, clad only in the tiniest scrap of lace. Inhaling, I breathed deeply. Fuck yeah. Her pussy was leaking hard, the scent of aroused female unmistakable.

  And then it happened. There was no contract, but I wanted the words anyways.

  “Submit to me,” I rasped. “Submit.”

  That wasn’t the most elegant statement ever, my body hard with arousal. But the redhead knew what to do. Slightly tipping her chin up, those caramel eyes swung bravely to meet mine.

  Slowly, she nodded her head.

  “Yes. Yes, Master Thorn. I submit.”

  And that was all it took. All holds were off. We were bound by words, even if they weren’t on paper. And I needed her so bad. Fumbling like a fucking adolescent, I unfastened my pants and freed my cock. Oh fuck yeah. My stiffie craved her attention, the wood like a giant tree branch.

  And Minnie’s reaction was priceless. Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open. The girl was unable to say anything at first, merely staring at the enormous size and length, tip coated and glistening with virile seed.

  “You want it,” I growled. “You want Master’s cock.”

  Sure enough, the girl swallowed audibly, eyes still fixed on my massive fuckrod.