Chapter 20: A Strange Encounter

Open Day was approaching. In that, Greenwood Academy was no different from any other school. Open Day involved a vast amount of work that contributed nothing to the education of the pupils and generally disrupted routines all round. Being a small school, there were not the usual orchestras, theatre groups and so on - and anyway the girls' extra curricular activities left little time for these more mundane pursuits. Still, the school had to be spick and span and on best behaviour.

The day arrived and, by mid-morning, the place was overrun with the girls' families. Never had Adam seen such evident affluence. At one point he started to count the value of the cars in the car park but gave up in disbelief when the numbers reached 6 figures.

As it was a residential school, Open Day was also used for parent interviews and Adam spent most of his time in his office making reassuring noises about the progress and abilities of his charges. He was interested, to put it mildly, to meet the parents of the girls he had been fucking and had a great deal of difficulty in maintaining the necessary detached attitude and professional demeanour. He also remarked that there were a number of mothers that were as attractive as their offspring. The attraction seemed to be mutual in some cases for he was subject to an undue amount of exposed thigh and flirtatious glances.

He was sitting at his desk during a short break when the door opened. He looked up, expecting to see one of his colleagues. The girl sauntered casually into the room as if she owned it. She was wearing a long, loose polka-dot half-sleeve dress with padded shoulders and a line of pearl buttons up the front, black stockings, black suede court shoes with 3-inch heels and a floppy straw hat with a band the same material as her dress. Ropes of pearls were wound round her long, slender neck and wrists.

He watched in astonishment and some irritation as she hoisted herself up onto the window ledge and sat, contemplating him from hooded eyes.

"You're probably wondering who I am," she drawled in a slow, slightly husky voice.

"Well, yes, the thought did occur," he said, dryly

"I'm Amanda Dawson, Leonie's sister and a former pupil."

"Ah, yes." Now she had mentioned it he could see the resemblance.

She was silent again. He shifted in his chair suddenly uncomfortable under scrutiny. Then, as if she had come to a decision, she unfastened the buttons down the front of her dress and pulled it open to reveal a lacy black teddy covering her high, full breasts.

"Do you like my tits, Mr Hazel?"

"Why, yes," he spluttered. "I do. I mean... you are a very attractive girl, Miss Dawson."

"I think you should call me Amanda."

She swung her legs wide apart and hoisted her dress. She had no panties and her pussy was completely bald. The pouting lips stared wantonly at him.

"I've heard you're very good," she husked. "I think you should come and lick me."

He regarded her gravely for a moment then cleared his throat and stood up. He crossed the room to stand directly in front of her. She had to tilt back her head to look at him and he stood silently, contemplating the dark, hooded eyes and full red lips, slightly parted. Then he reached down and took a breast in each hand. They felt heavy and elastic to his touch. Her eyes flew open wide and look of concern crossed her face. He weighed them thoughtfully, rubbing his thumbs roughly across her nipples - which began to respond.

He painted a cruel grin on his face and squeezed her breasts more firmly, digging his fingers into the springy flesh. There was definitely a look of fear now, but mixed with more than a hint of lust. He took her nipples between thumb and forefinger and squeezed and twisted them hard. She gave a gasp of pain and astonishment.

"In this school young ladies do not casually stroll into my office and demand that I perform oral sex on them." He tweaked her nipples again, making her wince. "No matter how attractive they are." She was looking decidedly concerned. "It would appear that, whatever else you learned here, good manners was think not among them."

"What... what are you going to do?"

"You were a pupil here under Ms Henderson?" She nodded and he smiled nastily. "I think you'll have a good idea of what I'm going to do, then. Now, go and lock the door."

She flushed bright red and dropped her gaze. He could feel her trembling.

"Please... please don't hit me," she pleaded and raised a hand to cover his.

"You should have thought of that earlier."

He stepped back and she reluctantly got up and turned the key in the lock. He rummaged around in a drawer and found several pieces of rope. He swept all the papers off his desk.

"Kneel up."

With obvious reluctance, she clambered up onto the desk. He grabbed a wrist, tied a piece of rope around it and pulled. She fell forward and put out her free hand to break her fall. He pulled the rope tighter, forcing her head down onto the desk and looped the rope around one of the legs. He repeated the process with her other wrist and her ankles. She was now secured kneeling across his desk with her head down and bottom raised high in the air.

"Oh, what are you doing. Let me go, please. I'll do anything," she begged. She tried to twist around to see what he was doing but the ropes prevented her.

He found a long, springy cane and used it to delicately lift her dress up and expose her bare rump. She wriggled and twisted, making her bottom rotate delightfully. He raised the cane and brought it down sharply on the churning buttocks.

"Aaiieeee," she wailed, jerking her head off the desk, her face screwed up in agony.

He paused. "Now. How many strokes do think it will take to teach you some good manners?"

"Owww. I don't know. Five?"

He sucked his teeth. "Five might be enough to teach you not to enter my room without knocking. But then there's exposing yourself and demanding oral sex. Both serious breaches of etiquette." Adam was thoroughly enjoying himself. "I would think that they would need at least ten each. That would make 25 altogether - plus another five for your general demeanour - not what one would expect from a former pupil of Greenwood."

"Thirty," she cried. "You can't... you mustn't... I couldn't take thirty."

"No? Ms Henderson must have been more lenient in your day. Are you genuinely sorry for your behaviour?"

"Yes. Yes. I am. I am most truly and genuinely sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry I was rude and came in without knocking. I sorry for exposing myself like a tramp. I'm sorry I demanded you lick me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she babbled.

Adam could hardly keep from laughing. "Okay. You do seem to be genuinely so sorry so we'll make it twenty."

"Twenty?" she screeched. "That's far too many. Ten."

"We'll split the difference at fifteen. Okay?"

Amanda, realising she was beaten - and was about to be beaten, gave up.

"Okay," she nodded weakly.

"You must count each stroke. Every one you miss or count incorrectly won't count. Are you ready? We'll start at one."

"But you've already given me one."

"Oh, that didn't count."

"You bastard."

"You're right."

He brought the cane smartly down on her upthrust cheeks.

"Aaiieee! Ow! Ow!"

"I'm waiting for the count."

"Owww. One."

The cane came down again.

"Aaaaghh."

"The count, Amanda. I'm not going to remind you again."

"Ohhh. Two."

And so they proceeded. She only made one mistake which earned her another stripe. By the end her bottom was criss-crossed with red stripes and she was sobbing so hard she could hardly speak the numbers.