The School Grounds

[Scuttle Buttin']

He watched her rise, straighten her clothes, kick off her shoes. All of this was observed without expression, without movement except from his eyes, the glass of rum, now nearly empty, held lightly between curled fingers.

Her question changed that, changing his features with a small smirk. He nodded, slightly, once in reply, and set the glass down again.

"You know, I was almost late."

The jacket was unbuttoned again, slow steps carrying him to the table where his leather bag rested. The cane was unhooked from his arm, laid across the table next to it.

"It took a little time to check every room on this floor and the two surrounding it."

The jacket was removed, folded carefully, and laid across the top of the bag. Cufflinks were removed, set on the table next to the cane. Methodically, each sleeve was rolled up to just past halfway on his forearms. At last, for the first time since the glass of dark rum was set down, he turned his eyes back to her.

"We can't have people hearing their headmistress screaming, can we?"

He smiled.

The cane was lifted back into his hands.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"You know, I was almost late."

She listens without commenting, and when he removes his coat, there is a tiny quickening of her heart. She wants to limber up for this impending fight, but there is little that she can do that won't admit some sort of defeat in his eyes, so she does nothing and listens to him.

"We can't have people hearing their headmistress screaming, can we?"

A soft bubble of laughter.

"Oh no, we cannot have that." She grins at him, before unzipping her skirt, and stepping out of it once it falls to the ground. With that piece of clothing gone, all that remains is her corset and boy short panties. If it were up to her, she'd change the corset, but getting out of it almost always requires two people.

She moves to his side, and notices that he gives no ground, nor does he stop her. Nimble fingers quickly un-knot his tie, the silken length flowing over her hand, while she pauses and looks up at him.

"And here, I thought you'd come...early." Without fear, she turns her back to him and places the tie over the headboard. Gleaming, mischievious eyes meet his.

"I told you. Your tie, my headboard, liberties will be had."

One hand raises, one finger beckons him to her side.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His brow arches as the skirt is unzipped, watching in silence as legs are revealed, the shape of her body more evident now than it already was, and he doesn't attempt to mask his appraisal of her form.

There is still a small quirk of the brow as she approaches, but he ignores the movements of her hands on his dark tie, his eyes fixed on her face as she stands before him. The cane is at his side, the curved top gripped in curled fingers, the end resting on the ground as if it was any other support cane, though he puts little, if any, weight on it.

A low chuckle escapes his throat as she turns away, and still in silence he watches her, his eyes again focused on her face, ignoring what she does with the tie. The smirk, fleeting though it may be, returns when her finger curls to call him over, and inclines his head to her, as if only too happy to oblige the lady.

Slow steps close the distance between them, polished black leather shoes on the floor and the tip of the cane the only sound he makes as he approaches. He doesn't know what she plans when he arrives, of course, though he has little doubt she intends for it to end up with him bound by his own tie. The best laid plans.

All over our body are levers. A small bend at the elbow translates into a large range of motion at your hand. A fraction of a swing in the knee can accomplish quick and full strides at the level of the feet. And a simple flick of the wrist can move the tip of a cane from the ground up with fantastic speed.

It was this last that he employed while still a half-step away from her, the rattan zipping through the air swiftly to meet thighs that were now bare.

He grinned.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The distance between them disappears in what feels like hours to her, but then there he is in front of her, all malice and confidence. The cane moves slowly through the air, the whistle from the movement her only preparation for what happens when the cane strikes her thighs.

"Hmmp."

It's the only sound she makes, not daring to look down at the red strike across her thighs. The sting from the cane burns and dances over her skin, through the muscles and finally melts into her.

She breathes.
Her hands are little fists.

This is what he wants from her.
She can handle that.

She breathes again. Then the laughter starts. Tiny little bubbles of laughter that dribble from her lips, and she can't stop.

Looking up at him, she continues to laugh.

"That the best you can do, Sir Bubblepantz?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The length of cane remains hovering just off of her legs, and he watches her fight through the pain to avoid openly reacting to it. He would've been more surprised if she had this quickly.

The laughter brings a small smile to his lips, and he watches her wordlessly despite her question. He waits, letting her have the moment of laughter, letting her outwardly act as if her thighs do not burn with pain.

And then the tapping starts.

The cane slips almost effortlessly through the air, rapid-fire impacts with her skin in virtually the same the spot. The force behind each rapidly increases and then, without warning and with her distracted by the action of the cane, his free hand flashes out to grip her throat.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Her hand flew to the headboard to steady herself as the tapping rained down on her thighs. The pain was exquisite, and the laughter pealed out louder with each strike. She began to pant, while she waited for him to stop.

The moment her eyes closed she felt his hand close around her throat.

She dare not open her eyes, knowing she'd be confronted with that knowing look in his eyes.

That look that made sure she knew who was in charge.
She had let this happen.
Dammit.

Her breath was cut off, he even controlled that.
She hated being in this space.
She hated it.
She still wanted it.

Finally, her eyes opened.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His hand found her throat, smooth and firm and so much that was vital just under the skin, and he gripped tightly. Once he had his hand on her, a final, full, hard strike of the cane was delivered, by this time to the still-covered shape of her ass. He suspected the thin material would do little to lessen the pain.

He was closer when her eyes opened, the little bit of distance that had been between them swallowed up after the cane met her ass. The cane was still against her, light strokes of bright wood down her thighs, across glowing red skin. The strokes were slow, smooth, but always over the newly inflamed area.

His lips were near her ear, voice low, but not nearly a whisper.

"Ready to do as you're told... or shall I continue?"

What he hoped for, he did not of course say.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"Ready to do as you're told... or shall I continue?"

As she's told. As she's told. But he hasn't told her anything! Nothing. Just a cane to the ass and thighs and fingers around her throat.

No words of "do this, or that, or suck my cock, or crawl here, or be a good little girl or nothing. Nothing.

Just... is she ready to do as she's told or continue? She continued with small shallow breaths he afforded her, but she was no closer to an answer. At least not one he wanted to hear.

Did she want to hand him control?

She looked up to see him watching her, his face close, which was good because she could only whisper.

"Do your worst."

Her words contradicted her actions, because as soon as they passed between those red lips she let her knees give out and she sank to the floor, kneeling in front of him.

She had given him the only answer she had.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Their faces were close, and even without his hand on her throat and restricting her breathing, he'd be able to see the small breaths she drew. Silence descended around them, the distant ticking of the clock and whisper of the cane moving against her the only other sounds in the room.

And he waited.

A smirk began to reform when she gave him her answer, but it was quickly interrupted by the buckling of her knees and drop of her body. He went with her, bending at the knees himself, crouching next to where she knelt. Doing so allowed him to keep his grip on her throat, and the cane was set down by his foot.

Reaching into the pocket of his shirt, he withdrew a small card. Pinching it between his index and forefinger, he held it up in front of her face.

"Remember this? The 'get out of jail free' card you were so happy to give me? I think it's time you take it back."

His hand on her throat tightened at this, all but shutting off her breath, and he waited until her mouth, inevitably, fell open.

And it was then that the card was returned to her, bent partially in half so it formed a wide U-shape, and pushed between those red lips.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

He went with her to the ground. He went with her, his hand closed around her throat and still he pushed her harder.

Then, the card. All air cut off. Folded and place in her parted lips.

Humiliating. Making her eat her own words. She hated him for it.
Still. She couldn't deny the tingle that ran down her spine. There weren't many that would or could challenge her like this. There weren't many, she'd even allow to try.

That was neither here nor there.

Wide eyes stared at his. She was in shock.

It lasted a moment.

She spit out the card with enough force that it smacked him in his ridiculous smirking face, before it fell to the ground.

"It's yours. Don't lose it." Her voice was quiet because of his hand, but the malice was quite clear.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He grinned, broadly, openly, as she spat the card out, but his eyes stayed on her instead of tracking where it fell. She'd be returning it to him soon enough, anyway.

His hand had relaxed, allowing her air again when he pushed the card in, but at her words it tightened once more, and he moved his lips near her ear.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, girl," he said, voice again low.

"The card is yours. You are mine. These are mine."

The hand that had held the cane, and then the card, now was against one of the cups of the corset, and the full breast that it held.

"And this is mine."

His hand slid off, then lower, between her thighs, against the boyshorts and the mound underneath them.

"And I'd wager it's already wet and ready for me now, isn't it?"

He laughed, short and low in her ear, and his fingers left her, only to return in a slap just past light, the sound of it dulled a bit by the fabric.

"Is your little cunt wet, girl?"

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The grin on his face was telling. She sighed inwardly, but refused to give in to him.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, girl, the card is yours. You are mine. These are mine."

He pawed at her chest, but she wasn't really paying attention. A certain word had crept into his vocabulary. She shook it off, or attempted to.

"And this is mine."

His hand came to rest between her thighs.

"And I'd wager it's already wet and ready for me now, isn't it?"

The laugh was rough in her ear. The slap slight against her there, not painful, just a slight reminder.

"Is your little cunt wet, girl?"

That word. Again. It sent shivers down her body, and only made it too obvious that the answer to his question was a complete yes. Those words would not be choked up or answered.

"Why don't you fuck me and see?"

She wasn't bound, he hadn't tied her, she wasn't held back, the hand that had stopped her no lay between her legs, distracting her there. It was easy to propel herself into his lap, his arms, press her hips against his, and feel his excitement, to run her fingers through his hair, and place her lips a breath away from his.

"Come on Sir. Fuck your girl and see how wet she is."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He could feel the shiver move through her, first in the small movement against the hand on her throat, then in one that mirrored it against the hand between her thighs. He knew it would have an effect on her, and he suspected she knew he'd felt that effect in her.

The grin returned when she spoke up, her answer still with a challenge in it, but it was a radical departure from the one that had been there after he first arrived. Her movement, however, was unexpected.

The hand on her throat was not being used to keep her back, and in fact had been used to bring her closer, and her movement into his lap pushed him off balance, off his feet and into a sitting position on the floor. The position made the grip on her throat awkward, and he released it, eyes flickering quickly across the red now spread across throat and around a bit of her neck.

His grip instead fell to her hips, and he pulled her tight against him. He knew she'd be able to feel him easily, feel how hard he'd grown, and even through the layer of her boyshorts, his slacks, and the boxers under them, he could feel her heat. It only served to make him harder against her.

Her next words brought a rise to his brows, a bit of surprise, and though there was still some challenge, still some fight in them, the tone of it had changed once more. It wasn't fully giving in, but it was the closest she'd been since he set foot in the room.

Wordlessly, he took a hand from the curve of one hip to press it against her in the center of her chest, and then he pushed against her. The hand on her hip held her lower half close, the push against her just giving him some space to work.

Obtaining it, his hands moved between their bodies, both of them grasped the panties she wore, knuckles against her.

And then, eyes on her face, the muscles in his arms tightened, pulled in opposite directions, and he began to shred the boyshorts.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She lifted her hips as the fabric that separated her from him was torn from her. Not that she minded, it one less barrier to deal with. However, the tugging had one unintended side effect, it had placed her hips in the precise location where his length pressed against her clit.

Not that she would ever be able to stop herself from grinding against him. She was a creature of intention now, so it was without thinking that she began moving her hips against his, soft panting moans dripping from her lips. One hand on his shoulder, the other in her curls as she surrendered to the movement.

Bouncing up and down on his lap, she let her head fall back and her eyes close.

God, he felt good.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

With each passing moment, the challenge she'd initially offered to him melted away, replaced by an obvious and growing need inside her. It was a need that now, with the boyshorts torn asunder and her body naked save for the corset, began to make the front of his trousers wet as she moved her body against his. Hints of the scent of her arousal drifted up to him, and his nostrils flared as he drew it in.

With a few more torn pieces, he had the full of the ripped fabric in his hands, and he reached out to her much as he had to tilt her body away from him. This time, his fingers curled into the top of the corset, panties tucked into them as he did, and he pulled her suddenly and fully against him, their bodies nearly as close as they could be while still being separated by some small measure of fabric. Most of it belonged to him.

He was hard. There was no denying it, and doing so would be stupidly futile with the way she was nearly fucking him through his clothes, quiet little moans heating the air around them, changing the tone of the tension between them. Once she was against him, his arms moved around her, fingertips searching, exploring, working, wanting the corset off of her, wanting her body bared to him, his to admire, to take, to abuse, to fuck.

"Tell me what you want, girl," he whispered, lips against her exposed throat. "Tell me.. and you just may get it."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"Tell me what you want, girl, tell me.. and you just may get it."

Her body stilled against his, although his hands continued to tease at the ribbon that would free her from the corset.

What did she want?

She wanted him in her, on her, demanding her, crawling around in her head and manipulating her to his will.

She wanted to fight him, to fuck with him, to sink her teeth into his neck and mark him as surely as he marked her. To run her nails down his back and part her thighs and pull him deeper. To whisper his name, and moan it between screams.

What did she want?

In then end it was a simple decision and an even more simpler word.

She met his eyes and slipped her hand between them, lower till it rested on his length.

"I want... you... please."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His lips left her throat as her head lowered, and the only time he broke her gaze was when his eyes flickered to the slender hand that moved between their bodies. His hips twitched, lifted slightly off the floor as her fingers found his cock.

Their eyes were joined through the line of their gaze as she spoke, and he gave the smallest of nods in reply. His arms were around her, working blindly to remove the corset that hid the last of her body from him, and he slipped one from around her, his curled index finger lifted under her chin, thumb against it to grip lightly.

"Then you can have me." His lips met hers then, quickly, his voice lower as the parted.

"But first, the corset goes. Your body is mine, girl, and I want to see all of it."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The kiss was short, sweet and full of promise. His words were as well.

"That's easy..."

She stood up, turned around and gripped the bedframe, bending her slightly over.

"Find the bow, and untie."

Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled coyly down at him.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The pressure of her body against his confined length was gone, and part of him ached for the loss. He watched her rise, turn, bend, and grip the bedframe, and his gaze slid along her, over curves and valleys, across hidden skin and bared.

He throbbed.

Rising finally to his feet, his arousal clearly evident along with the small and irregular circle of darkened fabric where she'd all but ridden him moments earlier. The cane was lifted in his hands as he stood, the hook placed back over his forearm, and he moved up behind her.

Find the bow, and untie...

A hint of a grin on his lips, and he reached out to her, palms and fingertips moving over the reddened flesh of her thighs, up along the curve of her ass, and then he paused to create more crimson skin, the sting in his hand no doubt surpassed by what she felt.

He continued on then, almost as if it'd not even happened, fingers finding the bow, grasping, and pulling.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She doesn't have to wait long for him to join her. His hands caress her legs, her ass, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. The sting of the slap washes through her and a tiny whimper gets caught and tangled up with a moan. It hurts, but only serves to make her lust sharper.

The tug to the bow is quick and suddenly she can breathe fully again. The laces loosen and she helps him tug it away from her body. Her skin tingles from the freedom, and the corset is pulled over her head and tossed aside.

She turns in his arms and is at once faced with a dilemma, does she go after his buttoned shirt or his pants.

Please... like it was a choice for her.

She sits on the bed and immediately goes for his zipper.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The corset is gone quickly then, and he can see her draw in a full breath now that she is able to. As good as it looked on her, he's happy to see it gone, his gaze sweeping over her body as she turns and sets on the bed.

A grin touches on his lips as she reaches for his zipper.

He reaches out, fingers diving into silken curls, working deep so he's close to her scalp, and there he grips firmly. With a quick pull, her head is tilted back to look up into his face as he bends over her, and his other hand reaches out, a quick and firm slap against a now-bare breast. The grin is gone, and his tone is low and firm.

"If you want something, little girl, you ask for it."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She knew it was coming, she didn't let it deter her. His hand in her hair, the free one slapping her chest. It was a warning. A warning she was likely to push.

"If you want something, little girl, you ask for it."

She didn't feel like asking, she felt like demanding, or taking.

Green eyes didn't leave his as she reached out and took his free hand into both of hers. Bringing the fingers to her parted lips, she pulled his index and middle finger into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around them and sucking on the tips.

It was, blatantly obvious what she wanted. It was also obvious that she wasn't going to ask for something to be placed in her mouth.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

One corner of his lips pulled up, a half-grin as he watched her lift his hand, her lips closing around his finger. Her mouth was warm, wet, and he remained bent over her, his face only inches from hers as he watched her.

His grip remained in her hair, and it was this he used when he pulled his fingers from her mouth and pulled back. As he did, he moved up onto the bed with her, pushing her back with the combination of his body straddling her torso and the hold of her hair.

He leaned over her, still gripping her hair, keeping her pinned under him, eyes narrow as he did.

"If you don't want to ask, then you get what I want until you do."

The hand that had just been lifted and so delightfully sucked between her lips was lifted once more, but this time it came down in a full and forceful impact on her breast.

"And this is just the warmup."

Her other breast met the same fate, the heat quickly spreading through his palm.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Laid out and pinned under him. In some ways she had asked for it, in some ways she was completely innocent. Which is what flashed through her head when his hand first slammed down on her chest.

She groaned.

The second and other side was a little worse, for which he was rewarded with a whimper and an arched back, which somehow made it worse. Like she was asking for more.

Still, she said nothing though each strike progressively felt worse, she took to closing her eyes and breathing through the pain that assailed her senses. Whimpers became moans, became laughter, became a soft hum that kept her from calling him a bastard.

No shrieks came from her. That much she was proud of.

She had told him that she had wanted him, and it was true. She also wanted his discipline and his violence, and if she could push him to it, his self control. Finally, a strike to her chest made her gasp for air. The next one made her shriek.

"Fuck you, Sir!"

Well, he got part of what he wanted.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The sting in his hand was exquisite, the red spreading over her skin a clear sign that what she felt was easily more intense, and still he didn't let up.

His hand alternated sides, nipples hard, breasts glowing crimson and moving alluringly with each impact of his hand. It continued through closed eyes and measured breathing, through whimpers and moans and laughter, it continued through the hum he hadn't expected. It continued, slap after slap, the sound echoing off the nearest wall each time, until shriek, and the words that rode out on them.

He grinned down at her, openly, broadly, almost smugly, both of them knowing he'd pulled it from her, and he suspected she knew it wouldn't be all he forced from her. Leaning down, his lips pressed fully and firmly to hers in a quick, hard kiss, and then he broke it but didn't straighten, his face near hers when he whispered.

"I'm afraid not, my stubborn little slut. Not until you can ask for it, like a good girl."

Another hard kiss, his tongue forcing past her lips and into her mouth, and then he was gone, straightening up, his hips still astride her belly, his hand still gripping her hair, and now the cane grasp in the other.

Rattan replaced his hand on her breasts.

The quick, rhythmic tapping began.

The intensity of each was increased gradually.

The marks on her skin would soon follow.