“What is this?” William demanded, waving the contraband in front of Buffy’s face. She flushed, too surprised to come up with a good defense, or even a respectable offense.
“I—I—nothing?” Buffy offered.
He shook his head in disbelief. God, did she think he was an idiot? “I told you you wouldn’t like it if you made me mad again. Didn’t you listen to me? Or are you just trying to see how far you can push me?”
“I—I—I can explain—”
“The time for that was the first three times I asked,” William said curtly. “You’re way past the point of explanations, Miss Summers.”
“Are—are you going to smack my hand again?” squeaked Buffy.
“No, I am not going to smack you hand.”
Buffy tried to repress her sigh of relief. She hadn’t really let on before, but that ruler hurt. And she really didn’t want to feel that thing slapping against her flesh again, or even—
“Bend over.”
“What?” Buffy blurted out in astonishment. She must have heard him wrong. It sounded like he said—
“I said, Bend over. And raise your skirt.”
Buffy stared at him, her jaw dropping. He had to be kidding! There was no way he could think that—
“Every second you hesitate will make this worse for you, Miss Summers.”
Finally Buffy bent over, pulling her skirt up to pool around her waist and bracing her hands on her knees. Her cheeks burned with humiliation.
After a moment she felt a hand caressing her soft bottom, stroking into the curve of her buttocks and then tracing up the mounding flesh to the small of her back.
“A thong, Miss Summers? As it happens, those are also again Brighton’s policy. And I think you’ll find they offer surprisingly little protection,” William added, slipping his hand beneath the waistband and drawing the panties down, baring her completely to his intense gaze. At his urging she lifted one foot, then the other, allowing him to scoop up the black scrap of material and tuck it into a desk drawer.
“Now, then,” he said, returning his warm hand to rest on her ass. “I want you to keep count for me, Miss Summers.”
A moment later his hand came down upon her bottom cheeks, surprisingly hard, and she gasped in response. “What did you say, Miss Summers?”
“One,” she said hastily.
Again. Flat against the apple of her ass. “Two.”
Smack. “Three.”
Crack. Harder, this time. “Oww!”
“What was that?”
“I mean, four!”
Swack! This time just the right cheek. “Five!” Smack! This time the left. “Six!”
Slap! Right across the bottom this time, where her thighs met her ass, and to her horror she felt electricity ripple through her pussy and go straight to her clit.
Unbidden, she moaned.
“I don’t believe I heard you, Miss Summers,” he reminded her.
“Six,” she mumbled. Suddenly he smacked her ass with a flurry of small slaps, and she wriggled helplessly, hissing with a confused mixture of desire and pain. “What?” she protested.
“That was number SEVEN,” he corrected her, resting his hand on her ass. “Not six.”
“Seven,” she panted, shifting under his touch, squeezing her hands around her knees, trying not to touch herself. If he just moved his hand a little….
“Have you learned your lesson, Miss Summers?” he asked, absently moving his hand in small circles over her. She moaned, squirming under his touch and widening her legs. As if in response, his hand slipped between her thighs and tangled itself into her nest of curls, tugging demandingly.
“I’m not sure,” she gasped, thrusting her hips back at him.
“Then we’ll just have to worker harder, won’t we?” he said pragmatically, unbuckling his belt and sliding down his fly.
SNORE! Buffy jerked awake, disturbed by the surprisingly loud snoring of her roommate, Cordelia Chase. Buffy’s panties were soaked, evidence of how much she’d been enjoying her dream. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to fall back asleep, reluctant to let the dream go, but it was gone.
Forget running away. Maybe she’d better concentrate on getting a boyfriend instead—the sooner, the better.
*Chapter Four*
“Have you worked here long?” Buffy asked the handyman—Riley— she’d met a couple of days before. She walked around the cottage he lived in, the main campus barely visible in the moonlight, and turned to give him a flirty smile. Finding out where he stayed on-campus hadn’t been a problem, and it had been child’s play to get him to invite her in when she’d come knocking on his door.
He was perfect for what she had in mind.
He was big and beefy, and that was how she liked men. Not lean and tight, with sharp hipbones that pushed into the soft flesh of her buttocks when he pressed himself against her in his office. Yeah, she liked her men dark and handsome and open-faced, not blond and dangerous with cheekbones like a knife. And dumb! Yeah, she liked ‘em dumb. Easier to jerk around that way—jerk around in ways that were good for her, not them. Not too smart for his own good. And definitely not with pouty lips and long fingers. Long, long fingers. Really long—gah, stop it!
“A while,” answered Riley with a smile. He looks so guileless, she thought.
But as innocent as he acted, he knew why she was there. He’d sported wood from the moment he answered the door. He didn’t even ask why she’d dropped by in the middle of the night, just licked his lips a little and invited her in.
Which really was kind of creepy.
Her roommate was fast asleep. Buffy had waited until Cordelia, eyes hidden beneath her sleep mask, had begun her regular rhythmic snore before slipping out in her little schoolgirl outfit. Even the most vanilla guy got all hot and bothered when he saw a girl in a plaid skirt and knee socks, even if he saw them dressed like that every day. Hell, even that headmaster had to—
Forget about him, she berated herself. That was why she was there, right? To forget about him and his hands and his eyes and the way she thought about him when she touched herself. Yeah, she was there to get herself a good ride and get it out of her system, and then she wouldn’t give another thought to Mr. Gorgeous and his nice big ruler.
God, was the guy STILL talking? Buffy briefly tuned into to Riley for a second and immediately wished she hadn’t.
“—apply fertilizer and then cover it with sod, but you have to be careful not to step on it for a few weeks, otherwise—”
“That’s fascinating,” Buffy interrupted. “Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”
“Well, thank you,” replied Jethro—RILEY, she reminded herself, Riley—“I can’t say that they have, even when—”
“Do girls visit you in your rooms often?” asked Buffy, wincing as she listened to herself. It wouldn’t have required this kind of effort if she was dealing with a guy her age—hell, it barely required words—but she was having difficulty time coming up with pre-sex chitchat with this guy. Man, he was dull as oatmeal.
Miraculously, he was quiet for a moment. “Sometimes,” he admitted softly.
Buffy repressed a small start. She sure wouldn’t have suspected Joe the Wonder Bore was tagging the students regularly, but appearances could be deceiving.
Suddenly the wisdom of her little get-a-man-plan seemed questionable to her. “Uhh, that’s uhh, nice,” Buffy mumbled, starting to make her way towards the door in the most inconspicuous manner possible. No need to make it obvious she was heading out, even if he did seem easygoing. But since when did she have good luck?
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked protestingly.
“Time to get back to the dorm,” she said brightly. “Classes start early around here.”
“Well, yeah, but…if you do it that way, nobody goes to sleep happy,” he responded, swiftly moving past her to block the door. “This will only take a few minutes, and I know *I’ll* sleep better afterwards.”
For the first time in what seemed like forever, Buffy felt fear curl around her heart. “My roommate’s expecting me back by twelve,” she improvised hastily. “I have to leave now.”
Riley smiled at her, raising a hand to touch her face. “Now, that I doubt. She’s probably sleeping away right now—won’t notice how late you’re gone,” he said, threading his hand through her hair and beginning to apply pressure. Trying to force her head down.
Bastard! “Let go of me,” Buffy grated, fighting to keep herself calm.
“In a few minutes, baby,” he told her, undoing his pants with his free hand.
“Let go, let go, LET GO!” Buffy screamed furiously, struggling against him.
A moment later she was free, and Riley was crumpled against the wall of his living room.
The headmaster stood over him, startlingly informal in a black T-shirt and jeans. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled at Riley.
“I—I found her in my rooms,” Riley lied. “I was trying to get rid of her.”
William didn’t move from above Riley, clenching his fists furiously as he studied the cowering man. Finally he turned to Buffy, took her arm, and said simply, “Let’s go.”
They left Riley behind without a backwards glance.
~*~*~*~
“You’re all right?” William asked, walked briskly beside her. She nodded wordlessly, and they kept walking. Finally they were in front of the dorm and they both stopped and turned to face each other. “I want you to go straight up to bed, no excuses,” he told her. She nodded again and turned to leave, but his hand closed around her elbow. “You’ll have to come to my office tomorrow morning after breakfast,” he said.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “I know you went to his cottage willingly,” he said, shaking his head as if disappointed. “I can’t even tell you how many rules you’ve broken tonight. I know why you went there,” he added, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “And I think I can ensure that the punishment fit the crime.”
[Reviews - 53]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 4118 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +