She Always Had Her Cats
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Another Year At St Cat’s Ch. 02 free porn video
Discipline and Dilemmas (2)
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Wednesday, 9 October
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The headmaster couldn’t sleep. He rolled over in bed and looked at the clock again. Still only ten past five in the morning. He’d been away from the school for way too long for his liking. He’d originally planned to be back on Monday but his mother had been taken ill just as the conference ended on Friday so he’d ended up spending what turned out to be a very long weekend with her. He always worried about the school when he was away and although he felt Wicklow was fairly trustworthy it was the first time he’d left him in charge. Whenever he closed his eyes, he kept seeing visions of unruly schoolgirls running riot, letting off fire extinguishers in the corridors, and smoking in the toilets, the school falling into disrepair, the teachers losing control and threatening to go on strike. Eventually he gave up trying to get back to sleep and decided to get up and go in early instead.
A couple of miles away on the other side of the village, Jenny couldn’t sleep either. She rolled over and pressed the button that illuminated her bedside clock. She was relieved to find it was still only five thirty, so she had a couple of hours before she had to get up. She’d spent the previous evening typing up her notes, working late into the night and half-watching TV before slipping into bed at around midnight.
Outside, the wind changed direction, and the cold October rain rattled against the window. She shivered and tugged the duvet up to her nose. With her boyfriend still away in Germany, the bed seemed huge. Jenny stretched out happily beneath the duvet, enjoying the warmth and sense of space. She closed her eyes quickly sinking into that lovely state halfway between sleep and consciousness, her mind going over the events and images of the last few days.
Mr Lean had seemed very pleased when she’d agreed to go to the pub with him. Was it just a friendly drink with a group of teachers on Friday or did Mr Lean see it as more of a date? Would that be a bad thing? What would Derek think about her going out with one of the teachers?
Her mind also kept returning to the girl, Holly. Jenny tried to imagine how it would feel if it was her standing there in Wicklow’s study, the threat of a caning hanging over her. Being forced to stand still, hands on head, whilst Wicklow lifted her skirt with the tip of his cane. Pleading with him to stop as he exposed her bare thighs. She felt a warm flicker of arousal deep in her belly as she imagined watching him become hard, his thin lips set in a cruel grin as he used the tip of the cane to stroke her through her panties.
‘How disgusting,’ she muttered as her hand drifted between her legs.
Was it just Wicklow and Hunter or were there other teachers molesting their students? And perhaps most worryingly, what would happen to her if they ever found out she was really an undercover journalist?
Imagine how angry Wicklow would be if he found out! She found herself fantasizing about what might happen. Perhaps Wicklow and the headmaster would find out and want to take matters into their own hands. She pictured herself sitting in front of the headmaster’s desk, nervously chewing a fingernail, waiting anxiously as he finished reading the report in front of him. She couldn’t recall what the headmaster looked like, so she conjured up the image of a faceless, authoritarian figure, tall and dark and in his fifties, neither good-looking nor ugly, and smartly dressed in a smart, dark grey suit.
‘Do you know what this is?’ he’d snap.
Jenny would shake her head dumbly.
Instead of handing it to her, the headmaster would spin the paper around with his fingertips and beckon her to come closer, curling his finger. He’d keep his fingers on the paper so that she’d be forced to stand and lean forward over the desk, supporting her weight on her palms as she craned her head to read the small type.
She’d see it was her CV. Not the fake one, the real CV with her real name and listing her current occupation as a journalist for the Echo.
‘What’s this?’ she’d say innocently.
‘Perhaps you need to look more closely,’ he’d growl as he’d grab her wrists and pull them towards him, forcing her weight onto her elbows.
‘What are you doing? Please, you’re hurting me!’ she’d whine as she’d try but fail to pull her hands loose.
‘Don’t play the innocent with me girl, we know all about your lies. Your real name is Jenny Coombes, isn’t it?’ he’d insist angrily, his face burning red.
‘Please let me go, this is all a mistake,’ she’d reply, still struggling to free her wrists.
He wouldn’t let her go though, he’d pull her wrists even further towards him so that his stern, craggy face was inches from hers. She’d realise what a vulnerable position she was in now, stretched over the desk, her smart office skirt riding up over her the back of her legs.
‘Now then girl, tell us the truth before things get a lot worse for you,’ he’d say threateningly.
‘Okay, it’s true,’ she’d whimper. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll get my things and leave, okay?’
‘You’re a journalist aren’t you? From the worst kind of gutter press. Looking to dig up some dirt about the school?’
‘Fine, you got me. You win. Listen, I’ll just collect my things and leave, alright?’
‘Well I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that,’ he’d continue, smiling wickedly. ‘Young ladies who break the rules must be punished, mustn’t they Mr Wicklow?’
‘That’s right, headmaster, and she has been especially deceitful,’ said in a sinister voice that was suddenly right behind Jenny.
‘Well,’ the headmaster would say. ‘Let’s not keep the poor girl waiting then.’
‘No, please, wait!’ Jenny would mew as she felt Wicklow eagerly grasp the hem of her charcoal grey skirt. He’d ease it slowly up over her legs enjoying her discomfort.
She wouldn’t normally wear stockings but that’s how she pictured herself in her mind’s eye, the sheer black stockings and suspenders framing her pale, naked thighs, her black heels making her legs look especially long and slim. Her scandalously small briefs clinging to her wriggling buttocks.
‘Very nice,’ Wicklow would murmur as he ran a warm hand over her smooth, naked skin and the silky material of her panties. He’d slide a finger beneath a suspender, testing the elastic tension before letting it snap back against her skin, making her jump.
Of course, she’d struggle, but with the head’s vice-like grip on her wrists she’d be unable to prevent Wicklow removing her already damp panties. Hearing him grunt with hot anticipation as he slid the skimpy, black material over her smooth thighs, exposing the delightful curves of her flawless buttocks. The silence in the room broken only by her sobs as she struggled to free herself and the faint hiss of static as he eased her knickers over her stockinged legs. She’d whimper as she felt a strong hand on her ankles, patiently lifting each foot as he carefully slipped them over her heels then tossed them onto the desk beside her.
‘What a gorgeously spankable arse,’ he’d growl as he stood back up and roughly pinched the tender flesh of her derriere.
‘Ow! Stop!’ she’d protest as his rough hand connected smartly with her smooth, plump buttocks, stinging her naked skin.
Jenny unbuttoned her pyjamas and ran her hands over her semi-naked body as she mentally pictured the scene. What a desperate, vulnerable position to be in! Stretched out over the head’s desk, her panties an untidy scrap of black on his otherwise neat desk next to her CV. Unable to stop Wicklow’s brutish hands exploring the smooth, milky skin of her bare bottom. Of course, she’d struggle and beg for them to release her but what could she do against two grown men? And if Wicklow decided to slide his hand between her legs and start caressing her naked thighs, there was very little she could do to sto
p him. To stop her body responding to his touch. She gently started to stroke herself through her pyjama bottoms imagining it was his hand.
‘Please don’t, no!’ she’d say as she felt Wicklow’s strong hands spreading her buttocks, exposing her shamefully moist, pink folds.
Despite her predicament, she’d find herself becoming aroused as Wicklow’s finger teased and stimulated her inner thighs, as she squirmed helplessly.
‘She’s quite wet you know,’ he’d inform the head as he toyed with the tight little hole at the centre of her heat and she’d feel her throat and cheeks burn red with embarrassment as he explored the evidence of her arousal.
‘Please stop,’ she’d protest, but he wouldn’t of course. A man like him would be enjoying her discomfort. The more she protested, the more it would turn him on. He’d dip a finger into her molten pussy and paint her juices along her hot slit. Stroke her back and forth till it was slick with her juices and her hips gyrated uncontrollably.
Jenny lifted her hips as she eased her pyjama bottoms over her hips then kicked them off her legs. Free of her pyjamas, she was able to spread her legs wide apart and she groaned as she slid her hand between them, running a fingertip lightly along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, teasing herself until her body shivered with delicious anticipation.
In her mind’s eye, she pictured herself still bent over the desk, still wriggling and protesting as Wicklow’s insistent fingers delved deeper into the inflamed, juicy folds between her widely spread legs.
‘What’s the matter, young lady?’ the headmaster would say mockingly, tugging her wrists further till her hamstrings burned and her chin brushed the desk’s polished surface. ‘I thought you were looking for some scandalous behaviour from our teachers. Perhaps we should really give you something to write about, eh? What do you say Mr Wicklow? She has been exceptionally dishonest.’
‘Yes, positively wicked. I think you’ll agree that exceptional dishonesty requires an exceptional punishment.’
‘Just so, Mr Wicklow. Why don’t you show her what we’ve got in mind?’
Twisting around awkwardly, her neck straining, she’d just be able to see Wicklow unzip his sensible Marks and Spencers trousers and slip his already hard cock from his pants.
‘No, please no!’ she’d mew helplessly, still putting up the pretence of a struggle as her body betrayed her, the juices spilling from her thighs at the sight of his erection. She’d tremble with desire as she watched him wrap a meaty fist around the shaft, slowly stroking it to full hardness before she felt the throbbing, purple head of his cock against her hot pussy. She’d be unable to suppress a loud, contented groan as he eased his sturdy prick all too easily inside her. She’d close her eyes, riding the warm waves of carnal pleasure as she felt Wicklow slowly inch his thick cock into her molten centre.
‘Mmm, she’s lovely and tight, headmaster,’ he’d groan as he eased his cock back out. She pictured her tight, juicy lips clinging to his retreating shaft, as if unwilling to let him go.
She was very aroused now, her young body writhing and wriggling, spread-eagled in the large bed, one hand feverishly stroking her hot pussy, the other squeezing and twisting her tight nipples. She half-opened her eyes and reached out in the semi-darkness, her hand fumbling around in one of the bedside drawers till she found her trusty dildo. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue over the smooth surface.
When she closed her eyes, she was back in the study. Impaled on Wicklow’s eager cock and with his strong hands on her shoulders pressing her against the hard desktop, there’d no longer be a need to hold her wrists. She’d only be able to watch helplessly as the headmaster stood, his crotch level with her face and slowly unzipped his pin-striped suit trousers. She imagined Wicklow’s cruel hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back and making her watch as the head eased his shorts over his hips until his cock sprung free, bobbing expectantly a few inches from her face. He’d grasp her chin as she tried to turn away, forcing her to watch as he wrapped his other hand around the taut, velvety skin of his shaft, casually stroking himself till he was as thick and hard as one of the table legs as Wicklow continued to fuck her enthusiastically.
She’d be panting loudly now, the hot breath being forced from her lungs as Wicklow pounded her relentlessly from behind. In this position, bent double over the desk, he’d be able to penetrate her fully and he’d take full advantage, thrusting the swollen head of his cock deep inside her, thoroughly enjoying the hot embrace of her pussy as his stomach slapped against her buttocks.
In her vulnerable position, she’d be unable to stop Wicklow sliding a hand beneath her and tugging roughly at her blouse, the buttons skittering across the desk’s shiny surface. He’d yank her bra down, her boobs spilling out and she’d feel the cold, polished desk against her naked flesh.
‘No please! Please!’ she’d squeal as Wicklow’s hands pawed her bare breasts, his pincer-like fingers cruelly pinching one of her pert nipples as his dick plunged into her wetness.
‘She’s very noisy, isn’t she headmaster?’ Wicklow would gasp, his balls slapping against her arse as he fucked her energetically.
‘Yes, perhaps we need to find a way of keeping her quiet,’ he’d reply, and Jenny imagined feeling the swollen head of his erection pressing against her lips.
‘No!’ she’d protest weakly, trying to twist her head away.
‘Looks like she needs a little encouragement, headmaster,’ Wicklow would say, slapping her firmly on the buttocks. Her hair was scraped back in a thick ponytail and she imagined Wicklow wrapping a thick coil of glossy hair around his fist, and cruelly pulling her head back.
‘Ow! No!’ she’d squeal as she felt Wicklow’s firm hand connecting with her naked derriere again, even harder this time. As she opened her mouth, the headmaster would seize his chance, eagerly slipping his throbbing shaft between her reluctant lips.
Back in bed, she slid the dildo into her mouth and ran her tongue around the smooth head. She closed her eyes, imagining the contented groans of the headmaster as she slowly slid it in and out, her lips forming a tight pink seal around the shaft.
‘Mmm, mmm,’ she moaned, sucking on the dildo, she slid one of her slim fingers in and out of her tight, wet pussy. Her hot, young body writhed beneath the duvet as she imagined the two immaculately dressed men fucking her lustily, using her helpless body as a plaything to satisfy their sadistic desires.
Her pussy was craving stimulation now, and the wet dildo left a wet trail of her saliva as she slid it over her naked skin. Jenny shivered in anticipation as she lightly rubbed it against her hungry slit, teasing herself till she simply couldn’t stand it any longer. She gasped with the sudden rush of carnal pleasure as she spread her knees even wider then eased the thick head between her puffy, inflamed lips. She teased herself by just sliding the very tip in and out, her pussy lips clinging to the fat head. But she couldn’t keep it up for very long, her body needed still more and she groaned loudly as she slid it deep into the hot depths of her vagina, her hips arching up off the bed.
‘She feels so good, so fucking good,’ she imagined Wicklow grunting as his thighs slapped against hers, his cruel hands gripping her hips as he thrust his swollen prick deep inside her rippling depths. She slid the dildo in and out of her, mirroring his frenzied thrusting as she rubbed her hot little clit with her free hand.
‘Yes, what a good little cocksucker you are young lady, top of the class,’ the headmaster would agree as he eased his fat prick between her wanton, red lips. He’d moan as she swirled her tongue around the swollen tip tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum.
‘You’re loving this, aren’t you? You little t
art,’ Wicklow would hiss, leaning over her, his lips suddenly next to her ear, his voice a thick rasp.
‘Mmm, mmm, mmm,’ she’d grunt, forced to breathe through her nose as Wicklow continued to fuck her from behind and the headmaster forced his throbbing hardness deeper into her mouth.
Her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps as she pictured them using her helpless body for their pleasure. The thought of their eager cocks pushing into her mouth and pussy made her feel hotter and hotter as her fingers flicked the hot little bud of her inflamed clit.
‘Well now, despite all her protesting I think she’s about to cum, the slut,’ Wicklow would pant, a note of triumph in his face as her body trembled, her pussy squeezed his cock and her moans became increasingly strained.
‘Oh, oh, oh!’ she panted, her voice getting gradually louder and higher-pitched as she imagined them fucking her harder and harder, faster and faster till their bodies couldn’t take it anymore.
In her mind’s eye, she watched as the headmaster eased his glistening prick from her lips and wrapped his fist around the thick shaft, jerking it up and down feverishly till he came, the hot, pearly cum splashing on her face and lips.
The thought of Wicklow coming at the same time pushed her over the edge. She imagined him, his face red with exertion, his mouth wide open, head thrown back, roaring with pleasure as with a final flurry of desperate thrusting they both came, her young body thrashing, her pussy clenching around the dildo, a divine fire rushing through her.
—
Later that morning, the headmaster was standing in the little kitchen having just finished making himself a cup of tea when he heard the office door open.
‘Ah, you must be the new temp.,’ he said, emerging from the little kitchen and extending his hand towards Jenny.
‘Yes, I’m Joanne, Joanne Courtney,’ she said, taking his hand.
‘Mr Wicklow says he’s been very happy with you. How have you been finding it here?’ he said.
She was a slim, pretty young woman dressed in a conservative black pants suit over a powder blue blouse. Where had he seen her before? She looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place her face.
‘Fine, thank you, I’ve been made to feel very welcome.’
‘Have we met before? I seem to remember your face from somewhere.’
‘No, I don’t think so. You live in Eastbrook, don’t you? It’s a small village, so you’ve probably seen me in the supermarket or the pub or something. We were expecting you back on Monday, weren’t we?’ she said, quickly changing the subject.
‘Ah yes. My mother was taken ill. She lives in Hastings, down on the south coast near where the conference was held so I stayed over with her for a few days.’
‘Oh dear, I hope she’s okay.’
‘Oh yes, nothing serious, she’s fine now. Well I won’t keep you, I just wanted to introduce myself. Do let me know if there’s anything you need.’
‘I will, thanks headmaster,’ she said, as she switched her PC on.
—
Back in his office, the headmaster stared out of the window pensively. Outside a cool breeze played with the dry brown leaves that littered the lawn beneath his window. It was starting to look untidy out there. He made a mental note to have to have a word with the head gardener the next time he saw him.
He bent down and took his mobile phone out of his briefcase, his thumb stroking the touch-sensitive screen until he found the name he was looking for.
‘Hello Duncan?’
‘Ah headmaster! To what do I owe the pleasure?’
Duncan was an old friend of his, someone he’d met at the local golf club years ago. He was in his sixties, an ex-metropolitan police officer who’d retired to the countryside and spent most of his time trying in vain to improve his handicap. He still did a little private investigation on the side to pad out his police pension though, and the headmaster used him before, always finding him both thorough and, more importantly, discrete.
‘Listen, I was hoping you could help me out.’
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