SSC category: School

The Headmaster's Blog
by Tasha


19 September
Music: Britney Spears
Mood: Randy!

Just another day at St Helena's - or St Hell, as the girls call it. Had
Ferguson in today. I got the Latin master to claim she was cheating so
I could cane her tight little ass. Now I just need an excuse to strip
her bare - the things I'd love to do to her! Oh, what a randy old goat
am I!

28 September
Music: Marilyn Manson
Mood: Still randy!

I do love having them bare-assed in my study. If those girls had any
idea what goes through my mind, I'd be SO fired! Today it was Taylor,
Blake and Sanderson. Little sluts. If they'd offered me a blow job
I'd've have taken it. Then I still would've caned them!

4 October
Music: Sex Pistols
Mood: Evil!

Oh, have I got plans for Ferguson! *rubs hands together* I'll bust her
for shortening her skirt and tell her that if she won't wear her
uniform properly she won't wear it at all. <veg> Then I can get a look
at her little tits and make her show me what's between her legs. I rule!

------------

Annie Ferguson fidgeted before Mr Wilson's desk. What did he want now?
She'd been so careful after Jenkins busted her for cheating in Latin.

'Do you know why you're here, Ferguson?' he asked. His voice was cold,
barely containing his fury.

'No, sir,' she said, wide-eyed.

He was positively seething. 'I'm not going to play games with you,
girl. Let 's get straight to it. Aren't you aware that the school keeps
a log of everything the students do on the computers?'

Oh, fuck. Ferguson gulped. 'Um, no, sir.'

He forced a thin smile. Then he rubbed his hands together. '"Oh, have I
got plans for Ferguson!"' he quoted.

Mortified, she lowered her head. Vicky had PROMISED the blog wouldn't
be traceable!

'I'm sorry, sir,' was all she could say.

He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. 'Oh no, my girl. Not yet, you
aren't. I think it will take quite a lot to make you sorry enough to
satisfy me. Fetch the cane, girl. You know where it is.'

Ferguson trudged towards the cupboard.

'Since you have such a fertile imagination it would be a pity if we
didn't test out your ideas in practice.'

Ferguson gasped. 'But sir!'

'Skirt up, knickers down.'

She had no choice but to obey.

When she was in position, bent over his desk, Mr Wilson eyed her
closely. 'What was your phrase, Ferguson? "Tight little ass?"'

Her only answer was a miserable whimper.

'Six strokes,' he pronounced, tapping the cane against her bare bottom.
'I think you can keep your uniform on. Believe it or not, I have no
desire to "see your little tits."'

Ferguson squirmed with embarrassment, dreading the first stroke.

Mr Wilson just kept tapping. He seemed to be thinking. Finally, he
spoke.

'But there was something else you were going to show me, wasn't there?
Legs apart, girl.'


© 2004 SSC by Tasha