Bad Behaviour

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Bad Behaviour (hum, nc, spank)

story may be copied or posted, without changes or

omissions, for non-commercial purposes only (meaning no

charges, no profits, which rules out a lot of deadhead

pseudo free sites). Please keep the author tag attached

along with this notice, and let me know where you've

sent it or if you like it: albert.vines@lycos.nl

Disclaimer: This story contains graphic descriptions of

sex. It is definitely NOT for anyone under 21 or who is

offended by such material. This story is fictional and

any resemblance to anyone dead or alive is purely

coincidental. I welcome comments and suggestions from

readers : albert.vines@yahoo.com

The Reunion

Olivia was proud of the fact that the school uniform

still fitted. Six years after leaving school she could

still slip into the skirt and fasten the zip without

having to suck her midriff in. She looked at her

reflection in the mirror as she tucked in the white

shirt. She had shortened the skirt and was pleased with

the effect. Her thighs were now displayed from about six

inches above the knee. They were tanned and smooth,

tapering down to the tops of her white socks, just below

the knee. She smoothed the skirt out over her hips, then

lifted the hem of the skirt to pull the shirt-tails down

through the waistband. This caused the shirt to stretch

down over her breasts, the smooth form of her bra

disturbed by the stiffening nipples. Her mouth was dry

with excitement and she moistened her lips with her

tongue.

She raised the collar and slipped the tie around the

neckband of the shirt. A loose knot and an open top-

button gave her a delightful sluttish-ness. She stepped

back and slipped her feet into the scuffed, black t-bar

shoes. She would have liked higher heels, real FMs, but

the two inch heel was still enough to put some tension

into the muscles of her legs, heightening her sexual

excitement and no doubt about to have a similar effect

on any man she met. A momentary urge to masturbate was

resisted, with some regret.

It had been her idea in the first place, a get-together

of all the old crowd from their last year in Sutton High

School for Girls, complete with school uniforms. To make

it more fun they'd chosen to meet at Bunters, a theme

restaurant on the edge of the business district where

waiters served gourmet school dinners dressed as Head

Prefects and where everything was presided over by The

Headmaster.

Just over twenty of her fellow pupils had turned up for

dinner in a converted Victorian school on the fringe of

the city. The interior of the building had been

faithfully restored as a Victorian day school, right

down to the gas lighting and the smell of carbolic soap.

There were still separate entrances from the street,

with Girls and Boys carved into the stone arches

overhead. The playground had given way to a car park,

but such is the price of progress. Brass plaques

suggested the upper floors were the provinces of trendy

architects.

Most of the girls had come dressed for the part, like

Olivia, although there were those that had just made a

token effort. A few girls had dressed up smartly; a few

more had dressed down. About a dozen had set out to look

the part and of these Olivia was easily the winner.

She had tried putting her hair into bunches but the

effect was too comic. She had nearly wet herself

laughing, so she'd left her hair to its natural style, a

smart shoulder-length bob.

Olivia had known the effect she would have and she

wasn't disappointed. There had been hoots of

encouragement from her friends when they met up at the

bus station and then some very lecherous looks from

everyone else on the bus. When she took off her blazer

to sit down at the long dining table there had been a

round of applause from the people on the next table.

The dining room had been created from two classrooms on

the ground floor of the building. At one end of the

room, where they had come in, was the top table. This

was where they'd encountered The Headmaster and The

Headmistress. Both were (over) dressed for the occasion

in mortarboard and gown, while The Headmaster carried a

thin cane. They had been told the school rules (No

spitting, no swearing and always say Yes Sir and Yes

Mistress) as well as given warnings that bad behaviour

would be punished. The room contained all the attributes

for a good evening's entertainment, including a dunces

cap on a stool in one corner and a blackboard on an

easel in another.

The Headmaster showed them to their table and introduced

their prefect, Marcel, who would take their orders and

watch over the table, on the lookout for offenders who

broke the rules. Olivia fancied Marcel immediately, he

was a bit older than her, a stereotype French man, very

slim and he had the cutest bum she'd seen in ages. He

was dressed in a school uniform too, tight black

trousers, a white shirt and a school tie. Olivia was

turned on immediately and made it clear when he took her

order that she wanted some really personal service.

Marcel simply smiled and went to fetch their drinks.

It was while Marcel was doing this that a fellow pupil

was picked out for punishment. It was a boy from a

neighbouring table, part of a group of young city

slickers. There was a lot of braying and hooting from

his friends, which immediately turned Olivia off. If

there was one thing she hated it was the "Hooray

Henrys". The lad picked out for punishment was led to

the corner with the blackboard in it, where he was made

to hold two text books in front of him with outstretched

arms. At first it seemed simple enough, but after just a

couple of minutes the strain started to show. He started

to blush with humiliation. Good, thought Olivia, serves

him right. She was starting to really enjoy herself.

Marcel brought over their drinks, setting them down in

the middle of the long table. Olivia reached forward at

the same time as the girl next to her and the collision

spilled some of her drink on the tray. "Shit!' she

hissed, to no-one in particular. Unfortunately it was

heard by all around her, who stopped what they were

doing and looked in her direction. There could have been

no better way of attracting The Headmaster's attention.

He was there in a flash, to find out what "these young

fillies" were up to. One of the girls (one that Olivia

had never liked) was only too happy to tell him. He

looked sternly down at Olivia and extended his hand,

inviting her to her first punishment of the evening. As

she stood the entire table erupted in a cheer, bringing

the attention of the whole dining room to focus on her.

As she was led to the dunces stool all eyes followed her

progress. She walked behind The Headmaster, like a

penitent on her way to the gallows. From the moment she

had been picked out her nipples had started to harden

and tingle. Her arousal was now blatantly obvious,

exhibited for all to see. Her excitement increased as

she crossed the room.

By the time they reached the chair the dining room had

fallen quiet, as everyone watched Olivia. The Headmaster

had turned and was watching the room, amazed at the

effect that this girl had on everyone. It wasn't really

hard to see why. She exuded sex appeal; her obvious

charms were displayed to perfection within the uniform

she'd so proudly put together. The Headmaster indicated

for her to sit down facing the wall and placed the

dunce's cap on her head. The noise level in the room

quickly recovered to its previous levels.

The Headmaster stood next to her, watching the rest of

the room reverting to their previous topics of

discussion. He spoke to her quietly but with authority,

glancing down to observe the effect his words were

having on her.

"They were waiting to see if I made you stand up on the

chair. Normally I'd do that, but in this case I think

it's better that I didn't, don't you? This is, after

all, a restaurant. We might end up with the vice squad

in here, if we displayed your attractions to the world.

I hope you're suitably grateful."

Olivia said nothing, her breathing was laboured and her

arousal complete. The vision formed in her mind. When

she's standing on the stool, the hemline of her skirt is

above the eye-level of everyone seated in the room. Her

pulse raced. The Headmaster watched her obvious

excitement, waiting for his moment. Then he continued

with his monologue. "Or perhaps I could have made you

hold the text books?" The pupil in the adjacent corner

of the room had lowered the books to his waist with some

relief and was led back to his table. "I see your fellow

penitent has had enough. Holding two books out in front

of you is difficult, but holding one out to either side

is harder still." The Headmaster watched as his words

sank in to Olivia's excited brain. She had to open her

mouth to keep her breathing regular and her previously

pale complexion began to turn scarlet.

The image formed in her mind. She would take the books,

one in each hand. As she extends her arms the material

of her blouse is drawn tightly across her breasts,

constricting them within a tight band of cotton. As her

hands rise up to shoulder level the waistband of her

skirt rises, further displaying the flesh of her thighs.

She knows that the hem of her skirt will be barely

covering the cotton patch at the junction of her thighs.

The cotton patch will start to darken as her excitement

moistens the material. Her nipples will become painful

as they're pressed into the flesh of her breasts. The

muscles in her arms start to stand out, sculpted into

knotted forms as the strain begins to tell. All this

goes through her mind, the time compressed into a mere

fraction of a second. Her eyes close and she

concentrates hard on the sounds of the dining room,

desperate not to lose contact with the reality around

her. The Headmaster stoops slightly, to make his whisper

heard. "I am beginning to think that you should be put

in detention. Now get back to your seat and let's see if

you can get through the evening without needing to be

punished again. OK?" Olivia nodded, then uttered a quiet

"Yes sir". The Headmaster took her elbow in his hand and

steadied her as she rose to her feet. Marcel was passing

on his way to the kitchen and The Headmaster caught his

eye, "A strong drink is needed here, I think, Marcel".

Olivia walked unsteadily back to the table and the

cacophony of sound that greeted her return. Shortly

afterwards Marcel delivered a fresh drink with the

compliments of The Head, a vodka Martini that was

certainly more vodka than Martini.

The fun continued during dinner and all the girls got

into the spirit of the event. Olivia watched as other

girls were taken to the dunces cap or made to write

embarrassing admissions in twenty lines on the

blackboard. One girl made a big event out of writing "I

must not be late for lessons again" when her party

missed their reservation time by some margin. Another

stood on the dunce's stool without hesitation, although

this bravado was spoilt by the lack of attention she

received. Nobody had yet matched Olivia for style and no

one would.

She continued to flirt with Marcel throughout the

evening, making it blatantly obvious that she had

nothing to do after dinner and she'd welcome the chance

to meet up for a drink, perhaps something more. Towards

the end of the last course she attempted to draw him

physically closer while he served her. This was spotted

and seized upon by The Headmistress as a breach of

etiquette. Once again Olivia was led from the table to

the cheers of her friends. Her smile of contempt began

to fade as she was led to the blackboard. The

Headmistress turned to her with an icy stare. "You will

write out twenty times 'I must not touch the prefects

without their permission'. Now get on with it." The

Headmistress maintained eye contact with Olivia until

she turned to the blackboard and started to write. As

The Headmistress turned away and walked towards the

other end of the room Olivia started to write 'The

Headmistress is an old bag'. As she started to write it

a second time someone cheered and soon everyone's eyes

were on Olivia, applauding and whistling in approval.

The Headmaster was beside her in an instant, one hand

gripping her elbow, the other reaching for the

blackboard eraser. He calmly and quietly cleaned the

board, took the chalk from her hand and led her forcibly

from the room, accompanied by catcalls and even louder

cheers from the happy diners. Olivia had thought she was

being thrown out and was about to turn her anger on him

when she realised she had been led out of the dining

room into the Gymnasium. Her eyes took in the different

apparatus, the low exercise benches, the wall bars and

the thick ropes hanging against one wall. In the centre

of the room was a wooden vaulting horse covered in old,

brown leather. The smell of the place was authentic,

beeswax and non-slip floor polish.

In her surprise she paused and The Headmaster took the

opportunity to take the initiative. "It's obvious my

earlier warning to you went unheeded. If you want to

behave so badly you can do, but there is a price to be

paid. Marcel is here to work and not to be pawed by the

customers. We will see what he has to say in your

defence when he finishes work. The Headmistress is your

host and the owner of this establishment. She deserves

your respect. She can have you out on the street in an

instant, but she chooses instead to let me deal with

discipline." Olivia smiled at his pause. Oh, yes, she

was sure the Headmistress enjoyed letting the Headmaster

dish out discipline. The thought started to arouse her

again. The Headmaster observed her reaction. He knew he

was pressing the right buttons and continued. "Please

return to your table and observe the rules, otherwise

your punishment will be all the more severe. When you

leave the dining room please take a seat in my study and

we will wait for Marcel to join us there. Then if he

wishes to take responsibility for you he can do. Now I

have work to do."

Olivia interpreted this instruction as her opportunity

to get the date she wanted with Marcel and smiled

widely. The Headmaster smiled because he could see her

walking straight into their trap.

Olivia was led back into the dining room, to be greeted

by a cheering grinning mob. Her embarrassment at being

the centre of attention made her smile even more broadly

and the return to her seat gave plenty of time for some

light-hearted banter. A cup of coffee awaited her and

she instantly seized the opportunity to have something

to do with her hands, by taking a gulp. The coffee

tasted of strong Arabica beans and even stronger

alcohol. She looked up to see Marcel smiling at her. She

returned his smile and he went on with his work. Shortly

he brought another coffee, the same mixture as the

first, while he cleared the table around them. The other

girls had started to tease Olivia about the personal

attention she was getting and she let it slip that she

was going to be waiting behind afterwards for Marcel.

This led to much stronger teasing and even some jealous

and catty comments from some of the other girls.

As the evening drew to a close a pleasant mellow feeling

settled over Olivia. The extra alcohol had taken effect.

She was feeling very sexy, very well fed and looking

forward to getting to know Marcel much better before the

night was through. She couldn't wait to get her hands on

those cute buttocks! As she walked from the dining room

with her blazer slung over her arm she sauntered with an

expectation of imminent gratification. From the hall

outside the dining room her friends had moved to the

cloakroom. Olivia could see the two oak doors to one

side, gold-painted lettering announcing that these were

the studies of The Headmaster and The Headmistress. She

stole a peek into the first room. A large oak desk cut

off the far end of the room. To this side of the desk

there were three brown leather club chairs and a coffee

table. There was still no one around so she stole a peek

into the second study. This was entirely different, all

chrome and glass, the desk and table empty, one of the

chairs containing what appeared to be someone's leather

coat. The thought passed through her mind that it was

probably The Headmistress' attempt to imitate a senior

officer in the Waffen SS.

As Olivia made her way to the cloakroom she passed her

friends heading in the opposite direction. They had

their jackets on and were beginning to split into groups

for the different routes home. Olivia slipped into the

lavatory and soon they had left her behind. By the time

she reached the cloakroom, there was only the assistant

there, a middle-aged woman sitting to one side reading a

magazine. When Olivia presented her tag the woman went

off to find the jacket, only to return with a slip of

paper. "The Headmaster's already collected your coat for

you, he'll meet you in his study". Olivia's heart

skipped a beat, ready to remonstrate, but the woman was

already sitting down again, the encounter finished from

her point of view. Olivia stepped back, her eyes

unfocused, thinking through all those earlier

encounters. Well, if she really wanted a chance with

Marcel she had to go in there and get it. With a

newfound resolve she walked back round to the hall and

into The Headmaster's study.

The three club chairs were already taken. Marcel was

looking pained in one. The Headmistress was looking evil

in another. The Headmaster did the gallant thing and

stood, apologising, offering his seat to Olivia. His

manner had the desired effect. When confronted with

someone apologising and offering a seat most people

willingly accept it. Olivia did so, and found her body

supported in a warm leather cocoon. Her behind was

slightly lower than her knees, making them more

prominent. The back of her thighs showed and faced The

Headmistress, who took in the sight with apparent

distaste. The Headmaster walked to the desk and leant

against it, perched against the edge. The Headmistress

rose elegantly and started to speak.

"We have talked through what happened this evening with

Marcel. He has confirmed that your harassment of him was

sexual in nature but he does not wish to press charges."

Marcel made a study of the floor in front of him.

The words hit Olivia like a punch in the gut. She was

almost lost for words. "What!" she exclaimed,

"Harassment? Do me a favour! We saw each other, we fancy

each other and we were about to get off with each other.

What's wrong with that? Are you jealous? Or can't you

get off with a man?" Olivia's tirade against The

Headmistress took a breath. As she did so, The

Headmaster stood up and stepped between them. He spoke

quietly and very slowly in the direction of Olivia. His

words carried an air of authority and a direct threat.

They had the desired effect.

"Marcel has stated that he does not wish to press

charges. We must be very careful that we do nothing to

make him change his mind." The words sank in to Olivia's

brain. Marcel continued to study the floor. The

Headmaster spoke directly to the Headmistress. "I

suggest you take him home and ensure that he remains

content with the outcome of our discussion. I will deal

with everything here." The last sentence was said with

some finality. The Headmistress stalked out of the room,

followed by Marcel, who continued to study where her

footsteps had fell. The door closed and the Headmaster

eased his frame into the club chair opposite Olivia.

"Now young lady, what is to become of you?"

...to be continued

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