“Thank you.” The other girl, who was a redhead, smiled.
She had emailed the schedule to Henry before she’d gone down for the evening meal and hoped to have a reply from him before she turned in for the night. She wondered if he would be as disappointed as she was, as she joined her friends at their table.
After she got ready for bed later, she checked her emails, and sure enough, he had replied to let her know he had received the schedule and that they still had fall break week to look forward to. She enjoyed a cup of herbal tea with Colleen before they went to sleep.
The next day was Thursday, and her short story was due. She handed it in to Master Armstrong when she entered the room and hoped for the best. Her forte was not in writing those types of stories. She preferred current events to fiction, but she had done her best.
Master Armstrong looked at her as he took her paper. “I trust you put some thought into your story, Miss Daly. I know fiction is not your favorite thing to write.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We shall see. You must learn to become a well-rounded writer. You never know when you might someday need to depend upon fiction to earn your living.”
“I hope not, sir,” she said then turned and found her seat.
When all the students were in the room and had turned in their papers, Master Armstrong leafed through a few of them. “I plan to go over each of these over the weekend and will return them with your grades on Monday,” he told the class. “Now, let’s talk a bit about writing poetry, shall we?”
Karia tried to keep her attention focused on the class, but again, poetry was not her thing. When the master asked her a question and she didn’t have an answer for him, he gave her an exasperated look that told her she was in trouble. Great!
“Class, your assignment for next Thursday will be to write a poem. You will be expected to read them aloud in class. I know your interests all lie in different areas of writing, but you must learn each and every facet before you choose which path you wish to follow. That is my job over the next three years, to train you in all of them, so that you have a clear idea of what is available for you once you graduate. Please do try to pay attention in my class. It is most rude not to do so.”
There were headshakes and murmurs around the room. Karia was now dreading her after-class meeting. She had made it through three whole days without a punishment. Bloody hell! She should have known her streak wouldn’t last long. Her bottom was already tingling in anticipation of not being able to sit comfortably at the dinner table tonight. Something else was tingling as well, but she was doing her best to ignore that part of her body. She snapped back to attention, lest she add to her punishment, and tried to pay attention for the remainder of the class. A poem? How the hell was she supposed to write one of those?
Soon, the class was over. She was relieved to stop talking about poetry, but she wasn’t looking forward to what was waiting for her. She watched as each student walked out of the classroom, free to go on to their next activity for the day. But she, Karia Daly, was stuck here. She was going to be bent over the desk and her ass bared, she was sure. Why had her father insisted on sending her to a disciplinarian school for her formal education? She wasn’t a bad girl by any means. But here she was, at the hands of the dangerously handsome Master Armstrong, the man who sent chills down her spine in more ways than one. The man who challenged her, punished her, lectured her, and sometimes praised her. The dark and forbidden older man who intrigued her. Twelve years her senior, how could she possibly be so interested in this man when she already had the love of the future king? Of course, nothing could come of this strange attraction to the man. He was her professor. Maybe that was why she felt this way, because he truly was forbidden to her. Of course, so was Prince Henry, but she was winning the battle there with her family, she thought. Was she the sort who always needed a challenge to conquer?
Master Armstrong waited until the last student had gone before getting up and walking to the door. He locked it and came to stand in front of her.
“Well, well, Karia, it seems we meet again. I would have thought you would have learned your lesson last year about daydreaming in my class.”
“I-I’m s-sorry, sir,” she stammered.
“Oh, I’m sure you are, now that you have your first punishment of the year coming. How many days did you last? Three? Well done, Miss Daly, well done. Last year, you didn’t even make it through the first day if memory serves me correctly.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come now; get up. Walk to my desk and bend over it. Quickly.”
He walked away from her and over to the cupboard where he stored his implements while she stood and did as he commanded of her.
When she got to the dreaded massive desk, she took a deep breath before bending over it in the familiar position. There, she waited for what seemed like a lifetime before he joined her. It had actually only been a few minutes. She couldn’t see which implement he’d selected but she was sure she wouldn’t like it, whatever it was.
“Hold on to the sides of the desk,” he ordered softly.
When she was situated in just the way he wanted her, he lifted up the skirt of her uniform and pulled her cotton panties down in one swift move. They now resided at her knees, and she was bare to him as she felt the cool air in the room on her bottom. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. It was, instead, in anticipation of what was to come. That feeling was back, in the pit of her stomach, the excitement, the beginning of the heat that always accompanied a session over his desk. What was wrong with her? This could not be normal, to be turned on by this, could it? But she was. In fact, it felt entirely different than her lovemaking with Henry. She was never this hot with him. Oh, she enjoyed it immensely, but she didn’t feel like this. If punishments got her this way, what would it be like to have Oliver make love to her? Stop it! she told herself. That is something you will never experience. You are a sick and slutty little girl, Karia Daly, to even have such inappropriate thoughts.
“Now, tell me why you are being punished, Miss Daly,” the master said as he touched her bottom with his hand, sending more heat through her limbs.
“B-because I wasn’t paying attention to your talk on poetry, and I missed a question you asked me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I am not interested in writing such trivial things as poems.”
“At least you are honest,” he said with a deeply dangerous chuckle.
Then the first slap hit, echoing through the room and causing her to jump at the suddenness of it. He was warming her up with his hand.
“I’ll just bet that your bottom hasn’t been warmed all summer, has it?” he asked as he continued to rain down hard smacks to each cheek in turn.
“N-no, sir,” she said, struggling to hold the tears at bay.
“Just as I thought. I shall have to retrain you.” The tops of her thighs were next.
By this time, her ass was on fire and so were her lady parts. Lady parts? Gee, she’d been reading too many sappy old romance novels over the summer. Nonetheless, Karia could feel the beginnings of the thick liquid starting to drip out of her and down the insides of her thighs. God, if he noticed, she would be mortified. What would he think of her?
“That should do it. Now, for the main event,” he said. She could hear a swoosh as the implement moved through the air, and to her, it sounded like some sort of whip. What the hell?
When the leather touched her already heated bottom, she realized it must be a flogger of some kind. Again, and again, Master Armstrong wielded the thing in the air, coming down with a swoosh just before it landed on her sensitized skin each time. The tears were falling freely now as she struggled not to let go of the desk. She so wanted to move her hands back in an attempt to rub out some of the sting. The whole time, however, the moisture between her legs kept flowing. Karia was so embarrassed. And she was so horny. She really needed Henry right now. But he wasn’t here, and she could not relieve her tensions with t
he master. She would do it herself when she got back to her room. Colleen would be in the bathroom getting ready for dinner. She could do it then. The way she was feeling, it wouldn’t take long.
He kept on and on, until, finally, she heard the flogger hit the floor. She could hear him taking deep breaths. Had he been affected too? It would serve him right!
After a few minutes, he said, “Get dressed and get out of here, Karia. Now!”
She wasted no time in doing so, and as soon as Colleen was in the shower, she crawled under the covers and relieved herself with her own fingers. The orgasm was hard and fast, and the master’s face was in her mind as her body shuddered in release.
As soon as she was gone, he calmed himself as best he could. Then he closed up his room for the day and quickly went to his room, where he took care of his raging hard on in the shower before dinner. That girl would be the death of him! How could he wait for three more years to make her his?
Chapter 3
The welcome feast for the students was scheduled for Friday night this year. Karia dressed in her journalism t-shirt with a pair of jeans and walked down to the main dining room with Colleen. When they got there, they each went to their assigned tables to welcome the incoming freshman. Of course, there were the usual faculty speeches. Karia looked down while Master Armstrong spoke. She was still embarrassed by her reaction to his punishment. The festivities began, with a scrumptious buffet, music, and mingling. Through it all, Karia attempted to ignore the fact that the master was in the room. She was glad when the party was finally over and she could escape to the privacy of her room. She hadn’t even divulged her dirty little secret to her closest friends, and if they had noticed that she was a little off, they didn’t comment.
She stayed in her room for the rest of the weekend, only going down for meals. She used the excuse that she wasn’t feeling well and spent much of her time reading, trying to get her mind off the two men in her life. And basically, there really were two men, Henry and Oliver. She realized now that she thought of each of them in a different way, and it confused her. She didn’t want to think about what that might mean. She was in love with the prince, wasn’t she? Oliver was a distraction. That was all.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, Karia had convinced herself that her reaction had been because she was missing Henry—the prince, her boyfriend, whom she hadn’t seen since the term had started, the man who held her heart. It had nothing to do with Oliver or the punishment. Why would it, after all? Feeling much better now that she had put things in perspective, she resolved to start the week out fresh. If she could get through the next four days on campus without earning another punishment from the master, she had the whole weekend in the city to look forward to. She was already working on her notes for her assignment.
Her poem was due in his class on Thursday, and she hadn’t even begun to write it. She was going to be an investigative reporter. Why did she need to bother with short stories and poems, anyway? They were just a waste of her time as far as she was concerned.
But on Wednesday evening, after dinner, she sat in her room chewing on the end of a pencil while she typed, deleted, and typed again on her laptop, trying to come up with something—anything—to turn in the next day.
“Haven’t you finished that poem yet?” Colleen asked as she came out of the bathroom in her pajamas, a towel wrapped turban style around her head.
“No, I hate this,” Karia replied as she looked up.
“Just write something and get it over with already. I don’t think you want to get on Armstrong’s bad side.”
Karia grumbled to herself, “Already did.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Never mind. I’ll finish it soon. I’m exhausted.”
Colleen removed the towel from her head and began combing out her long, damp hair. She pulled it up into a ponytail and climbed into bed. “I’m going to sleep. Don’t worry about being quiet. As tired as I am, I’ll be out like a light as soon as I close my eyes. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Goodnight. I’m almost finished,” Karia said, wishing she was under the covers and closing her eyes too.
She put the finishing touches on the poem, hoping that she would at least get a passing grade on the thing, closed her laptop, and got up to take a quick shower.
Fifteen minutes later, she was in bed. But sleep didn’t come right away. Her mind wouldn’t shut off. Thoughts of Henry, then Oliver, followed by the weekend ahead kept running through it, making rest next to impossible. She got up, finally, and warmed some milk. After drinking it, she rinsed her mug and tried again. This time, she was successful and dozed until her alarm went off the next morning. Just one more day. Then she would be in the city for three whole days, away from the academy, away from Oliver. Freedom had never been so welcome.
Hurriedly, she dressed for the day and went down to breakfast. She and Colleen sat with Rhiannon and Calista as usual.
“So, this is your big weekend in the city, huh?” Calista asked when Karia sat down with her food.
“Yes, and I can’t wait!”
Rhiannon giggled. “Will you be able to see your honey?”
“No, unfortunately, he is leaving for Ireland. We’re still on for fall break, though,” Karia said as she took a sip of tea.
“What about you, Colleen? Have you heard from your guy?”
“We text regularly. We’re trying to figure something out for fall break. You two have any plans?”
Calista answered first, “I’m going home. There is a guy there I go out with sometimes, so I’m hoping to see him. He’ll be home the same week, so chances are good that I will.”
Rhiannon said, “I have no big plans. I’ll be going home, too.”
“You need a man, girl,” Colleen said.
“No, I don’t. I mean, yes, it would be nice, but until I find Mr. Right, I’m good like this.”
“Do dancers even have time for dating?” Calista asked.
“Not much,” Rhiannon replied.
Breakfast over, the girls went their separate ways, Rhiannon to the dance school, Colleen, to her sculpting class, Calista had a voice class and Karia went to Professor Clarice’s class. The day wore on, and after lunch, it was time to turn in her poem. She dreaded the grade she would probably receive on it, but she had done her best. She couldn’t help it if it was one of her least favorite things to write, could she?
When she walked into Master Armstrong’s classroom, she put her paper on his desk along with each of the other students who filed into the room and then took their seats. Once they were all seated, the master looked up.
“Well, it would appear that you all have completed your assignment. Very good. As parents’ weekend is in a few weeks, you’ll be happy to know that your poems will be displayed that weekend.
A chorus of groans sounded throughout the room as his words sunk in.
Great! Karia thought. Now everyone will read it.
“Miss Daly, would you honor the class by reading your poem first?” the master said as he looked in her direction. He held her paper in his hands.
With a rapidly beating heart and butterflies in her tummy, Karia stood and walked to him. Then after taking the paper from him, she turned and stood in front of the class. Just like grade school, she thought.
She cleared her throat and began to read.
There once was a little girl. She lived like a princess, enjoying the lights of the city and all that little girls love to do.
And then, one day, it all disappeared. She boarded a plane and flew through the air like a bird. She landed on the top of a mountain, and her world started anew.
Gone were the city lights, the pretty clothes and her maid. Her friends had new lives of their own. No longer were there parties and dances and dinners to attend.
She made new friends quickly enough. But now, her life consisted of studies, seclusion, uniforms and rules she was not allowed to bend.
Even though her life had changed, she�
�d somehow grown accustomed to this world on top of Avalon Mountain, and the girl wondered if she would ever be the same.
She had been taught many things in that secluded spot. She was reaching for a goal, and she’d even had a brush with fame.
And now, knowing that she had many more things to learn, the girl resigned herself to her time on that mountain.
As strange as it may seem to her old pals, the girl was happy and knew that she would never be the same again.
When her time there was over and it was time to return to the city, there would still be lights, parties, dinners and fancy clothes.
But a piece of her heart would forever remain on that mountaintop, and her memories of that time would see her through the highs and lows.
Karia’s cheeks were flaming as she turned and handed the paper back to Oliver. The classroom was silent. She returned to her seat and sat with her head bowed.
“Thank you, Miss Daly,” the master said. He called another student to the front of the room, and Karia listened to the other poems until the class ended. Now, she had her daily meeting with Oliver. What would he say about her work? The butterflies were still dancing in her stomach, her heart was beating fast and her palms were sweaty as she wiped them on her skirt. Even her mouth was dry as she watched the last student leave the room and Oliver walk over to lock the door.
“Well, well, Miss Daly. I didn’t know you had grown so content here at the academy. Tell me, is there any one thing in particular that you happen to like especially well?” he asked as he walked over to stand in front of her desk.
She looked up at him and licked her lips to moisten them. “I can’t say really. I have made new friends. I like my studies. The mountain is relaxing.”
“I see,” he said with a smile. “Would you like a cup of tea, my dear?”
She nodded, and he went to the kettle that sat on the counter in his classroom that doubled as an office. He filled it with water from the sink and tea then placed it onto a hot plate.
When the tea had brewed and he had poured each of them a cup of the steaming liquid, she reached for the sugar and added some to hers. “Thank you, Master Armstrong,” she said as she took a sip.
Karia and the Prince (Avalon Adventures Book 2) Page 3