The School Grounds - Science Department

[Scuttle Buttin']

Brows rose as she seemed to struggle to find the answer, her mouth working despite no words coming out. The momentary confusion, replaced quickly by rising - nerves? anxiety? fear? - was practically like honey on his tongue. He was almost disappointed when she blurted out the answer, but smiled nonetheless, nodding his assent.

"Indeed, you did."

Without further word he straightened up and moved a step to his side, the cane lifting into the air...

And then holding there.

Eyes on her, he paused in thought, considering a new approach. The next sound she would hear would be the tip of the cane finding the ground again, the moving of his feet, and then his hands were in her hair, gripping and pulling her upright. He was close behind her, his back against her chest as he straightened her, hovering near her ear.

"Change of plans, miss. I think you need a little more reinforcement."

With his hand gripping her hair, he turned her head to the side where a whiteboard hung from it's mount on the wall, pristine and waiting to be used. In the small tray that ran along the bottom were dry erase markers of various colors, and an eraser for any mistakes made.

"I want ten lines. I will properly address authority figures."

The tip of the cane lifted, found the crotch of her panties and pushed them down until they were at her ankles and trapped between the floor and the end of the cane, and he held them there.

"You can leave these here. And do not pull your skirt down, miss, or you'll be leaving it here as well."

 

[saysalice]

She heard the scuff of his shoes on the tile, and flinched as she caught the upward swing of his cane out of the corner of her eye - her knees locked and her hindquarters clenched to take the blow - and did not relax, even when he hesitated. She couldn't breathe until she heard the tip of the cane hit the floor again, and she had just begun to wilt shakily against the desk when she felt his fist in her hair, dragging her up so that she tottered back against him in her heels. Bleating an unnerving sex-sound as she felt his solid chest behind her, and the press of her bare ass into his trousers. Unresisting as he turned her and she felt her panties slip below her knees

Ten lines, he told her, as she struggled to get her balance and blinked at the whiteboard in front of her. Her face stung as if he had slapped her - why did she find it so insulting? It was such a little thing, and better than the cane, wasn't it? Except that she'd never had to write lines - ever - in school, and she bristled at the thought of starting, now. For him. For this. But what had she expected would happen, here?

She squared her shoulders and took a step forward, only to feel something tug and catch around her ankles, and she paused, swallowing hard. She didn't like to feel the tip of his cane between her legs. Reluctantly, she stepped out of her panties where he had them pinned to the floor, her mouth twisting unhappily as she shot him an exasperated look. Choose your battles, she reminded herself.

She shuffled across the room carefully, to keep her skirt where it was, high on her hips, and selected the red marker from the low shelf on the whiteboard. She had to stretch to reach the top edge. In spite of her resignation, it took her several long seconds to remove the cap and make the first mark.

She progressed in a loopy, scrawling cursive - the kind she hadn't used in years - sloping slightly at the end of the line as her wrist grew tired. She was careful to spell each word correctly, as it was too easy to make a mistake, at this distance.

I will properly address authority figures, Sir.​

Even with her bare ass exposed to him, her lips twitched on a little smile that she couldn't quite suppress, that she hoped he wouldn't see as she underlined the word with a deliberate squeak. She made herself wait until the urge to look over her shoulder for his reaction had passed. Re-capping the red, she picked up the blue and started again under the first line.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The not-so-subtle click of heels down the hallway always heralded her arrival into any part of her building, behind her walked a demure girl. Well, demure may not have been the right word, for the short skirt and ripped shirt this student wore, but that her face was downcast as she sullenly, but obediently followed the Headmistress down the hall was quiet demure.

She, the Headmistress, of course entered the classroom like she owned the place, which, of course, she did. Errant curls were tucked behind her ear as she considered the changes to the space since she had shown him this room and let him take over. It was a mess. But, of course it was science, and science could be messy, it was to be expected. Under her arm was a long box. Not cardboard, but more like something one would pack a musical instrument in.

The man in control of this particular space was not present at the moment, but that wasn't a difficulty for her.

"Sit down, Ms. Andrews. Any desk will work." Her clipped tone incited an immediate urge for the girl to plonk her ass into a seat and keep her little blonde head down.

The Headmistress, however had other plans, she straightened her jacket and moved to the board, erasing whatever drivel had been there before.

A Challenge to the Science Department

A gift.
If Mr. Scuttles can take 8 swats by the Headmistress. He can have her and the box she carries. If he cannot, then he gets nothing but the blonde.


Vivi tossed down the chalk and smiled, in the center of his desk was placed one little card. A get out of jail free card. She figured he might need it. While she waited, she took over his desk and kicked her feet up. Might as well get comfortable.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He had been out of the room, with new duties there were matters to attend to elsewhere, and spotting the open door as he came down the hallway was the first sign that something was amiss. His pace faltered for a moment, and with a frown he glanced each direction in the hallway, finding it empty.

He stopped again when he was in the doorway, his eyes catching first the box on his desk, and then the woman sitting behind it, feet up on his desk. Into the room fully, his frown changing slowly to a grin, and he then he stopped again when he saw something else out of the corner of his eye. A curious glance, and he discovered they were not alone.

And it was then that he saw the note on the board.

A quick snort of laughter and he turned back to her, brows lifted.

"In front of the girl, hm? That's how you want to do this?"

 

[Miss_Vivi]

When he finally walked in, after what seemed like weeks, she laughed and was glad to be sitting down. That man...damn him. Still, she was headmistress, regardless of the games they played or how she sometimes let him win.

"In front of the girl, hm? That's how you want to do this?"

"She knows the deal."

Vi didn't get up, just stayed in his chair, with her heels on his desk and grinned at him.

"What's the matter, Mr. Scuttles? Don't want to take the cane in front of a student? If you agree to the cane, I'll send her out. Eight swats later, and it will all be over!"

Reaching over, she grabbed the card.

"Or you can have this."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His eyes flickered to the card she lifted, a Get Out of Jail Free Card she'd produced once before, and he couldn't help the smile at the memory of how that turned out. A quiet chuckle and he shook his head, unbuttoning his jacket as he crossed to stand on the other side of the desk from her.

"In front of the desk, I presume?"

He leaned forward over it, fingers spread wide, fingertips against the desktop.

"Like this?"

His tie hung down, swinging slowly like a clock pendulum, and above it he simply smiled.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She watched him with a grin. Bent over the desk. Grinning. She chuckled to herself and glanced at the blonde cowering in the back.

"Get out."

The student scurried out quickly, and Vi finally moved. He was not going to take this lightly, she knew it.

She took a breath and opened the case she'd brought with her, pulling out a new cane for him. Vi laughed to herself.

Stepping back behind him, she placed her hand on his back, she was so tempted to hurt him right away. But rules must be followed.. mostly.

"Ready, Mr. Scuttles?"

One yes is all she needed.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

White fingertips stayed against the desk, his head turned slightly in her direction as he watched the case being opened, the cane removed. A smirk found life on his lips for a moment when he saw the handle, and it grew with her laugh.

A moment later she disappeared from his view, and rather than turning his head to look over his shoulder at her he simply stared straight ahead, and waited. Her question was greeted with a smile, and he licked his lips to wet them.

"I a-... oh. Wait."

He straightened up, fingers leaving the dark wood of the desk, color returning to the tips.

"I almost forgot something."

He spun on heel and toe to face her, smiling still.

"And you clearly did."

He reached out to her, his hand finding her face. Chin in his palm, fingers and thumb digging deeply into each cheek, able to feel the firm shape of her teeth on the other side. The smile was gone from his face, dropped with the speed of a rock in the grip of gravity, and with his elbow locked he walked forward, pushing her back by the grip on her jaw. He didn't know, didn't care, what was behind her. Desks, chairs, books, tripods without their telescope... they were merely obstacles he would push her through until her back found a wall. Swift and strong was each step, he had no patience for resistance, no issue with gripping more firmly and deeply, with giving her the pain of teeth cutting into the inside of her cheeks if he had to. He moved as if he was walking through her, and every step of the way his eyes remained on her face.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"So adorable when you get stubborn." He had said.

"You like it. " She'd laughed at him.

"I like walking through it." His confident words, and she couldn't stop her next words.

"I like slowing you down." Her tongue found her lips, challenge flashed in her eyes.

"But not stopping me."

The exchange had happened earlier, another time, but she recalled it as he propelled her back words by her face and she uttered expletives between pursed lips, she fought tripping over her own heels, past the desks that were pushed aside in their movement, and finally felt the back wall of the classroom press up against her back. She clenched the cane in her hand.

The cane.
The cane!

One loaded hand raised. One loaded hand came slamming down against his leg. Once. Twice. Three times. Before she met his eyes. Those blue green eyes that danced with laughter at her actions, laughter and violence. He said nothing. He didn't have to.

Definition of insanity. Doing the same thing and hoping for different results.

She hit him again.
Her head was still in his grip.
Damn.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Her hand lifted, the cane with it, and he knew he was about to feel it. Moving away would have prevented that, of course, but that would mean releasing her, and she would have to burst into flames before that happened. That cane through the fabric of his pants, hurt though it may, was far from bursting into flames.

The other problem was that his free arm was on the opposite side, and there was no way he was getting to the cane by reaching across his body. Given no other choice, he set his jaw and waited to feel it, hissing in a breath as she lowered it against him.

No matter.

Let her swing away.

As the cane lifted to find him again, he tilted her chin up with the hand gripping her jaw, and slipped the other one under. Fitted snugly across her throat. The cane hit again as he did, then once more as he tightened his grip. Now held against the wall by the hand at her neck, he released her jaw, and replaced that hold with a slap. Full, hard, and his eyes shared none of the laughter that had been in hers before her head was turned away from his.

Once the slap was delivered he moved his body close against hers, hip to hip, chest to chest, taking away much of the force she'd use to continue hitting him with.

He could've reached for her wrist then, her hand perhaps, pry open little fingers, take the cane from her and show her how it should be used. And perhaps it was what she expected to happen now, perhaps she thought for each strike of the cane she'd be met with two or three in turn. But he made no such move.

With his face close to hers, the faintest hint of a smile showed on his lips, and he tightened his grip further. Wondered in the back of his mind if she'd be putting makeup on her neck for a time after this. Thoughts for later...

"Drop it."

His voice was low, but not a whisper.

"Or wake up on the floor."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

His hand around her throat and an exquisite sting to her cheek from his open hand, and their eyes met. His hard blue against her dancing brown. He wanted her afraid of him. She wasn't. The tone in his voice that hard edge laced with need, only made her crave more of his wrath.

"Drop it."

"Or wake up on the floor."

Decisions, decisions. It wasn't as if she hadn't had his fingers around her throat before, that she wasn't used to the little whimpers that slipped from her lips and landed between them. That her tiny little breaths didn't leave her heady and ready for whatever challenge he shoved at her.

Vi didn't even really think about it.

Tiny little breath.
Tighten her grip.
Tiny little breath.
Raise the crop.
Tiny little breath.
Send it back down against his backside now that he was pressed against her.

The strike reverberated between both of them, and she watched that hard edge in his eyes darken. His fist tightened around her throat. She whimpered for him. Her eyes begged him to forgive her this trespass. His pain was hers. And she wanted him to hurt. For her.

Her eyes closed.
Her hand raised.
She hit him again.
Again.

He pressed harder against her. It was getting harder for her to breathe or to think.

The cane hit the floor. She still raised her hand and brought it against his ass again.

She couldn't stop.
She couldn't breathe.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The breath, infant though it may be, was still audible between them as it sneaked through the smallest of openings in her pressured windpipe, and he knew more was coming. Always more was coming. There was less force behind these as she attacked still, a combination of her body quickly using up the last of her oxygen and the angle she had to use to hit him, and he was happy to let her swing away and let her muscles greedily burn through her air.

Were her lungs burning yet?

Was she determined to wake up on the floor?

Did she think he would already be inside her when she did?

All questions he could've asked, but none he bothered to yet. The cane was still trapped between coiled fingers, and it was hitting the floor one way or the other. The only question that remained unanswered now was whether or not she'd be conscious to hear it.

He pressed harder against her when her eyes closed and she used up the last of her reserves to hit him more, making him think she really did mean to fight until her body gave out on her this time. His lips twitched with the hit of the cane, and then it clattered to the floor near their feet, and she resorted to her hand instead. Fighting all the way.

His hand loosened, just long enough to hear her gulp in a breath of air, and then clamped again. Fucking with her. Taunting her with breathing. With consciousness. With her lack of control.

He licked his lips.

Smiled into her face as he choked her.

And then began to hum a lullaby.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She loved this. This fight between them. Where he toyed with her, pushed her, pulled back, pushed again. Where she danced between love and hate, pain and pleasure and an intense dislike of him and wanting him to own her completely.

She never stopped fighting him.
That deep breath of air. Some of it held. Some of it expelled in a softly whispered, "Fuck you."

The rest died under her hand as her onslaught continued over his back, as she moved up, and hit his arms, his shoulders and finally she surrendered to the struggle and struck at his chest. Shoving her arms against him.

Fuck her chest burned. Again.
Teeny little gasps were nothing as she plummeted her little fists against his unforgiving and unmoving chest.

Damn him.

The walls closed in. She hit him again. She struggled in his grip, she wouldn't pull at his hand around her throat, knowing this was somehow unforgivable, but her body still fought for the oxygen it so direly needed.

With one final push, she shoved her body against his hand, his arm, his body and the immovable object that he imagined himself to be. It worked. Barely. But it worked.

She gulped in breath and air and grinned at him.

"More, Mr. Scuttles."

And then she laughed at him. Clear, full, laughter that rang through the empty classroom and fell over his head. She laughed at his control, at his need for it. At them and their little game. Her laughter was full of dare. Of confidence. And no fear... of him or his coming reprisal.

His hand still rested around her throat, and she still laughed at him.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Every so gradually, it changed. Perhaps even imperceptibly to any that may be watching, there was a shift in the way she fought him. A melting of ice, a shifting of sands, a changing of desire. Or need. From the wish to hit him for pain, she was now hitting him for herself. Arms and chest, pushing against him, fighting now for breath. He knew her lungs burned, her cells would soon turn on themselves in a desperate bid for oxygen, and he was happy to watch it all play out in front of him. Funny how little someone struggled when they weren't awake.

He heard the 'Fuck you,' of course, but ignored it for the moment. She would get it back, and more, eventually. Her next words, as she managed to shove him enough to steal another swallow of air, were treated rather differently.

The slap was fast, hard, turning her face away from him again, breaking the near-silence that had seemed to descend into the room until that moment.

"More?"

He asked it with a tone of derision and mocking. Goading her. Waiting until she turned her face back towards him before slapping her again. Even in that brief contact, he could almost feel the heat in her cheek.

"More?"

Again, that same tone.

His hand moved to her face again as she turned it back to him, but this time it was not to slap. Instead, her closed it over her nose and mouth, and pinned her airless between himself and the wall.

"Think you can keep fighting when you black out?"

He smiled at her, and in it there was no humor. He was a hungry lion, and she his graceful and delicious gazelle.

"Or that you'll even want to when you wake up to find your little cunt already being used?"

He was very close to her, only a small space and his hand separating their mouths now.

"Oh, but I'll bet you will when I call that girl back in her to clean my cum off your pretty face."

His hand uncovered her mouth and nose, pushed her face to the side so her cheek was against the wall, and his lips moved near her ear.

"On your fucking knees, or I make myself hard with your mouth without you aware it's even happening. Your choice, little slut."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Vi's laughter died with the first slap to her cheek, sending her head twisted to the other side, she gasped softly, but gave him nothing else.

"More?"

She heard his tone, she knew he was pushing her back, and as soon as she managed to meet his eyes once again, did his hand meet her cheek. Harshly. She gave up a soft whimper, but nothing else.

"More?"

He covered her face and stole her air completely. Her wide hazel eyes stared at him with surprise and pain, but she didn't fight him. She watched. Listened. Loved this part and what it did to him.

"Think you can keep fighting when you black out?"

His smile, his body pressed against her spoke of nothing but violence. Violence and need and lust. It was their dance. She let him preen and prance.

"Or that you'll even want to when you wake up to find your little cunt already being used?"

Barely a breath away. A breath she didn't have. He wouldn't let her have. And she clutched at his arms but didn't pull. Remained still. Watched him.

"Oh, but I'll bet you will when I call that girl back in her to clean my cum off your pretty face."

He let her breathe only to shove her face against the wall. She gasped but listened as the words, the hateful choice poured from those beautiful lips that she adored so much.

"On your fucking knees, or I make myself hard with your mouth without you aware it's even happening. Your choice, little slut."

She hated his choices. Would spend so much time wrestling with them. Squirming for him. Before she invariably chose the hard path. Always. Almost always. Nearly always.

If he wasn't so hard. So demanding. So fucking intense when she pushed, she might not push. Course, she might also get bored with him. Or he of her. And so they played.

Did she have a choice?

His hand slid up to cover her lips once more. Forestalling any disrespectful words from dripping from her mouth. Smart move on his part. He waited silently for her to chose.

She smiled that pretty smile for him, it went all the way to her eyes. Her hands fell to her side and she stopped her fight. Would she sink to her knees?

Not. Bloody. Likely.

Vi's tiny pink tongue darted from between red lips and licked at the palm of his hand. She held back the giggle, but she knew, he knew the choice had been made.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Up empty stairs and through barren halls he led her without a word. She'd been given a choice of where she wanted to go, and she'd made that choice. The time spent making their way there could be filled with promises of what waited for her at their destination, but leaving her to her own wandering thoughts seemed a far better idea to him. It wasn't until he'd unlocked the door to his room and led her inside that he spoke.

"Right here," he said, stopping once she was just inside the door and turning back to face her. He moved close, their bodies making contact as he reached past her shoulder to push the door closed, and then remained close, his lips again near her ear.

"Let's find out how wisely you chose, shall we?"

A low laugh followed this, and then he released the tie, letting it fall between the round shape of her breasts as he turned away from her.

"Stay right there, witch. Not a single step."

He crossed to his desk, and paused for a moment behind it to unbutton his jacket and slip it off, then leave it hanging on the coat rack where also dangled his ever-present cane. His cuffs were opened next and turned back once, just enough to expose his wrists. A drawer was opened then, and from within he pulled a pair of scissors. Lifting them for her to see, he opened and closed them twice in rapid succession, pushing the drawer closed with his other hand as he did.

"What do you think?" he asked as he moved around the desk and returned to her, "A wise decision?"

With a smile, and the question left hanging before her, he opened the scissors, slid them into the neckline of her blouse, and began to cut down the center of her chest.