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CHAPTER ONE

But this one is different. He called her to his office about 20 minutes ago and she still hasn't arrived. When she finally arrives, it is as he expects. She wanders in and slumps into the seat opposite him on the other side of the desk, without so much as a "sorry." Her thin, white uniform shirt is creased and un-tucked; the black bra underneath just a silhouette hinting at what's beneath. He surveys her; her shirt is not buttoned up far enough, her skirt is too short, she has too much jewellery on… The sight punches him in the stomach with a mixture of anger and arousal.
“What’s up, boss?” She greets him.
When she talks, her soft pink mouth curves around the syllables languidly, exposing the chewing gum she has yet to spit out. He can tell she is used to getting what she wants without ever trying, and it infuriates him.

“Cera Jayne.” He says, “Why am I not surprised to see you here again?”
She’s never listened to him before. With other girls he merely had to mention how they might get and trouble and they were compliant. She’s different. He wants to put her in her place, push her down onto her knees on the rough carpet, grab two fistfuls of her brown hair and fuck her mouth until he cums down her throat. That can wait, he thinks, opening up her disciplinary folder and pushing it across the desk toward her.

She glances at it.

“Oh, that?” She says casually, “Yeah, that was an accident.”
“And the other times? I suppose they were ‘accidents’ too?”
“I guess I’m just unlucky… Wrong place, wrong time… etcetera”
He laughs. It’s a cruel snort that throws her off her act.
“You seem to be in the wrong place a lot of the time. Do you know how we punish little delinquents like you?” His voice is calm and quiet, but dangerous.
“Well, I’ll explain. This is your 5th offence, which means, if I recall correctly, automatic expulsion… Unless...”
She’s worried now. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. The girls who left this office were never the same again… But they (and she) figured it was a damn sight better than going to prison or juvie. She knows he wouldn’t think twice about kicking her out onto the street, or worse.
“Unless what?” She asks, not really wanting to hear the answer.
He smiles again. She hates that smile… It reminds her of a wolf, watching the innocent lamb, locked on to her with piercing blue eyes.

He stands and moves to the other side of the desk, sitting on the edge of it so close she can feel the heat coming off his thigh.

"Open your mouth." He commands her.
"Excuse me?" She finally looks up at him, and he is frowning slightly.
"This isn't your private playground. This is the Kildale Academy for Girls, and you know perfectly well that chewing gum is strictly forbidden. You also know that when I tell you to do something, you do it. Now... open your mouth."
She looks at him incredulously, half-grinning.
“You can’t be fucking serious…”
“Just keep digging that hole.” He sneers. “I have half a mind to expel you for the damage you did. Do you understand how much that will cost to repair?”
Reluctantly, she opens her mouth. He quickly fishes out the gum and throws it in the bin, before pushing two fingers back into her mouth.
“You know what I want from you.” He snarls at her, all pretence of kindness and politeness gone from his voice, “Don’t pretend you haven’t had worse things in your mouth.”
She closes her mouth gently on his finger. The hairs on the back of his knuckle bristle against her lips and she wants to gag but controls herself.
“You can do better than that. I want to feel that in my dick.”
He feels her soft, warm and wet tongue brushing against the hard skin of his fingers. She’s sucking on them now, like she would an ice-pop, her big brown eyes looking directly into his while her eyebrows are creased in humiliation. His pale fingers disappear into her pink lips, moist with lip gloss, over and over. He imagines it’s his cock hitting the hole in the back of her throat, forcing her to choke and gag, her small hands futilely trying to remove his stronger ones from the back of her head…
“Mmm… That’s good.” He sighs, “Much better. You’ve done this before, haven’t you, you little slut?”
She finds the praise both humiliating and pleasing, like an animal performing for treats, and she hates that sick, small part of herself. From the bulge in his suit pants, she knows he is fully hard now. He is watching her intently, mouth open slightly, breathing, head tilted back, with a look of pure lust on his face. She wants to cry and scream and run out of the room to escape what is coming next, but the thought of the alternative scares her even more.

When he’s had enough he grabs her roughly by the shirt collar and stands her up, turning her around and pushing her down onto the desk.
“Bend over.” He orders her, “And when I say bend, I mean I want to see you kiss the wood, you little punk.”
He watches her bend low, her skirt riding up slowly, revealing her smooth, tanned thighs. He lifts her skirt further until her round asscheeks curve out from underneath her matching black panties, causing his cock to jerk in its uncomfortable cloth prison.

She’s so small, he thinks. He imagines the damage his large hands would do… The squeals of pain as his palm meets her soft, smooth ass… The red, raw skin that’s tender to the touch… Perhaps he could punctuate it by fingerfucking her – pushing long, thick fingers into her tight little cunt, forcing her to moan and get wet against her will… Listening to her sobs as she grips the desk and feels the nail marks made by all the other girls.

He’s interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

Cursing to himself, he pulls her skirt back down, letting his hand trail down the inside of her thigh for a moment; the sharp intake of breath from her lips makes his heart pound.

“Hold on!” He calls out to the closed door.
He quickly moves his hand upwards, on to the tender spot where her neck curves into her shoulder, and leans forward, pressing his weight into her back.
“I want you to come back to my office at 9pm.”
“What… why?” She asks, failing to hide the note of fear in her voice.
Cera can barely move, pressed up against the desk by his much larger body. Her skirt is still hitched up unfortunately, and she can feel the fabric of his pants pressing against the bare skin on the back of her thigh. She suddenly feels sick again, the smell of his cologne and the hot breath in her hair are overwhelming.
He breaks away as nonchalantly as he started, stepping back, putting his hands in his pockets and waiting for her to turn around before he begins to speak again.
“We have to discuss… your punishment.” He explains.

He smiles at her.

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