by Mia Luxe
I look down.
“Sorry.”
“Good. The reason you’re here is because you still haven’t told me the truth. I will get to the bottom of why you stole Mike Fuller’s new car and crashed it into his swimming pool. I looked into you. You were dating him.”
I jerk my head up, my neck twinging in pain.
“What! You can’t do that!”
“I absolutely can. I reserve the right to investigate all my pupils. Now, you will tell me the truth.”
I glare. He’s invaded my privacy.
“Or what?”
“I will not warn you again, Miss. Jones. Use a respectful tone, or suffer the consequences.”
I bite my lip to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret.
“Please, don’t investigate me any more. I’m a private person. I’m asking you very respectfully.”
“There won’t be a need to – if you tell me everything. Now.”
I shake my head.
He gives me a tight smile. “Well then. Report to the kitchens. You’ll be helping clean up after dinner.”
My jaw drops.
“You said you didn’t want special treatment. I don’t abide liars and secrets on my campus. Your father was too soft on you growing up. He shouldn’t have allowed you to be so insolent.”
“That’s… That’s not fair!”
He cocks his head. “Miss. Jones, it is fair. There are consequences to your actions. We’re done here.”
I stand up silently, glaring and forcing myself not to call him all manner of bad names.
I turn, stalking out, and I barely stop myself from slamming the door behind me as I march furiously to the kitchens. I get to the main doors when Sarah comes out – Tammy and Stacey trailing her like lapdogs.
Sarah breams at me. “I know that look. You’re on dishes duty. Have fun!”
Tammy and Stacey giggle at me as I stalk by them. I report to the kitchen, where a guy with a neck tattoo tells me to get on dishes. He goes back to his vegetables, chattering in Spanish to another cook. The kitchen has a wet heat that sinks into my hair.
“I don’t know how,” I say, looking at the sink full of disgusting, crusted plates.
“You rich kids are useless. I wish the boss would just teach you a lesson some other way. I’m so tired of having you slackers here,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.
I’ve never had a job before. What do I do?
“Please, just teach me once. I learn quick.”
He scowls, obviously wanting to go back to the prep work of cutting vegetables for tomorrow’s breakfast.
“Alright. Fine. But only cause you’re gorgeous. Watch and learn, señorita.”
He quickly rinses plates and stacks them into a rack, then pushes it through an industrial dishwasher, pulls the cover down, and presses the ‘on’ button. He glances down at the bottles of fluids that are connected to the dishwasher through hoses, and seems satisfied with their levels.
“Simple. That’s it. You load another while you wait for the first, then you push it through, bada-bing, bada-boom. Then you put the dishes away. It’s easy. Here. Take an apron.”
He disappears for a second, and comes back with a striped apron. He gives me a quick smile, hands it to me, and turns to go.
“Thank you,” I say, gratitude pouring out to him. I’d never really thought about what happens to my plate after I’d finished with it at a restaurant.
I groan as I look at the massive pile of plates that overflow the huge sink. Every second a sweaty guy with long hair loads more on it.
I tighten the apron strings around my waist, steeling myself.
I can do this.
I’m not the spoiled, rich kid everyone thinks I am. I’ve held hands with a little boy going into surgery, and I’ve cried my eyes out when he didn’t come back out.
If I can take that pain, this is nothing.
I grab a dish, cringing as I take the nozzle and spray water onto it. It’s piping hot. I fill the rack with dishes just as the dishwasher turns off, and I slide the cover up. It’s heavy. I grab the first dish rack and push it out through the machine, then yank the second rack of dirty dishes in to replace them.
I look up at the big cupboard, which is empty except for a small stack of already-cleaned dishes, and I start pilling the contents of the first rack up alongside them.
I get into a routine, sweating as I work hard. The pile of dishes in the sink slowly dwindles – until I’m on my last one. I put it away with a feeling of deep pride that I achieved something.
“Dammit, she did it,” comes a voice to my right.
A fat guy with a mohawk is laughing with the prep cook who trained me to wash dishes. The fat guy hands him a twenty with a scowl and walks away.
I cock my head, exhausted.
“You just earned me twenty bucks, gorgeous. He bet me you’d break down crying after an hour, like the last girl, and we’d have to finish up for you. I saw you had grit, though.”
He extends his hand.
“I’m Stefan.”
I quickly rinse mine in the sink and shake it.
“I’m Emily.”
He looks me up and down. “You don’t act like these other rich kids. They look down on me, you know? I’d say I hope to see you again, but that means you’d be in trouble. Can’t wish that on noone, not even if it means missing out on having a gorgeous thing like you in my kitchen.”
I yawn.
“What time is it?”
“It’s half-past-eight. You’ve got a little time. You worked hard in the kitchen, so you get a kitchen meal.”
My stomach grumbles, and I look down, embarrassed. Stefan whips up scrambled eggs and toast, and we eat it standing, not talking. Thankfully, he washes the dishes for me.
“You better run, beautiful. Get a shower before lights out.”
I nod gratefully and rush to my little cabin to grab a change of clothes. I ignore Sarah and her minions, giving Claudia a weary smile as I grab my things and head to the showers. I take a quick shower and run back to the laundry room, where I throw my uniform into the pile of dirty clothes and take a clean, fresh replacement from the guy manning the desk. He closes the door behind me and turns off the lights.
I rush back to my little bed and lay in it gratefully, my arms and back sore and tight.
I took what you threw at me, Tanner Strom. I don’t break easy.
6
Tanner Strom
We’ll see if she talks after last night’s gruelling work in the kitchens.
It pained me to send Emily into the kitchens, but I needed to know the truth. I had my private investigator – a former military recon officer, Hawk – look into both her and Mike Fuller. Hawk and I go way back. He’s the former squad-mate I trust the most. I’ve never heard him complain once, and he’s always brought back clear, concise intelligence for me to make my decisions.
Mike Fuller seems good on the outside, but the more I hear about him the more I feel like something is off. On paper, the young man looks perfect. But I can feel that something is rotten about him.
I pick up my phone and call down to the head of the female side of my school – the irreplaceable Miss. Turner.
“Yes, send her up again. We have unfinished business.”
I put down the phone. My heart pounds faster as I wait for Emily Jones to knock on my door.
Do I really want the truth? Or is this just an excuse to be alone with her?
The knock comes at my door.
“Come in,” I say, standing as she enters.
Girls pass me in the hallway every day dressed in my academy’s uniform – the classic blue blazer and plaid skirt. It’s modest.
It’s so fucking wrong to want her while she’s wearing it.
“Sit,” I say, and Emily sits in front of me, wincing a little. She’s sore.
She looks up at me with fire in her eyes. “I’m told I’m the best dishwasher they’ve had.”
Her tone is j
ust on the verge of punishable insolence.
The dark urge to bend her over my desk and lift her skirt for a spanking grips me. I force it out.
That’s wrong, Strom. She’s half your age! She’s a pupil at your academy! You need fight this urge. You can’t let the animal side of you – the side that wants to bend her over your desk and make her scream out your name – win.
“Don’t be coy. You know why you’re here, Miss Jones. You need to tell me what happened that night.”
She shakes her head. “You can investigate me all you want. You can punish me all you want. I don’t have to tell you anything.”
I shake my head. “You’re in my academy for a reason. This place will be useless to you if you don’t trust me.”
“Trust you? You’re just some guy I barely know. A guy who was at a few family dinners and now thinks he’s the big man on campus, just because he can boss around a couple of rich kids. You’re stuck in the past, army boy.”
I growl at her insolence. Her eyes widen – as if she’s shocked she let those words escape her own mouth.
Her father was much too soft on her. She needs a firm hand to teach her respect.
I shake my head. “Your dad should have spanked you until you learned respect.”
Her jaw drops. She stands, shaking her hair.
“Sit down!”
“Or what, Headmaster Strom? Is that what you’ll do? Spank me until you teach me respect?”
My cock surges powerfully at the thought of my hand slapping her full, round ass.
“I’ll give you one last chance, Miss. Jones. Sit down, now.”
She places one hand on my desk, then the next, leaning forward and arching her full ass in the air.
“You don’t have the guts. You’re all talk, Tanner Strom.
7
Emily Jones
Something inside me cracked. Maybe it was the thought of spending another three hours doing blistering work washing dishes.
Maybe it was the way he talked down to me – like he thought he was so much better than me.
Or maybe it’s that when he said the word spank, my nipples hardened instantly, and a wave of desire so powerful washed over me that it completely filled my mind.
As I stare into his stern face and lean forward on the desk, my heart beats faster. I realize I’ve gone too far. My body buzzes with excitement and need.
There’s no way. He won’t actually bring his huge palm down on my ass.
I should down, apologize, and accept however many weeks of dishwashing I’ve earned.
He stands.
I freeze, my ass up in the air, as Tanner Strom walks slowly behind me. Every muscle in my body tenses.
He’s not really going to do it, is he? He wouldn’t.
I bite my lip, the anger that he snooped in my private life surging again. He stands behind me, and I can hear his hoarse breath.
“Do it then, Tanner. Punish me like I deserve,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, knowing it’s only a joke.
He lifts my skirt and I gasp as his hand cracks down on my right ass cheek – sharp, humiliating pain filing me. I dart up, turning and gasp.
“You! You…”
His face is implacable. Stern.
“Bend back over the desk. You’ve been insolent. I’m going to teach you manners.”
My jaw drops.
I could refuse. I could storm out the room, or beg to call my parents or…
I can feel the sweet pain in my buttock – and I realize I want more.
I want Tanner Strom to spank me until I moan and beg for him to stop.
I’m so wet, and I bite my lip, bending over the desk.
His hand reaches up, sliding my skirt up and exposing my ass to him.
He grabs the flesh of my ass, spreading it and I know he see my asshole and the wetness of my pussy behind my hot pink thong. It must drive him insane to see the contrast between my slutty thong and the pristine, innocent uniform.
He slaps my ass again, the loud crack of flesh-on-flesh filling his office. I hiss in pain and lust, and his breathing is hoarse behind me.
“You need to learn respect, Miss. Jones. From now on you will speak to me with courtesy and keep that insolence out of your tone.”
He spanks me again and I shudder, wriggling from the pain. He runs his hand against the flesh, his fingers grazing my pussy behind my thong and sending sensation pulsing through me.
I want him to take me hard, right here and now, while he spanks my ass.
“You deserve this punishment for being a little brat. You’ll think twice before sassing me, Missy.
His hand cracks down hard again my left buttock, and the searing pain fills me. It’s so different from the ache in my body after the run. There, I was in control. Here, I’m completely at his mercy.
He’s so big and strong that he could do anything to me – and there’d be nothing I could do to stop him.
The pain is sensual and humiliating – the tattooed former-Navy SEAL losing control as he disciplines me hard. He brings his palm down again on my right buttock, and I cry out, tears coming to my eyes.
“Oh, Headmaster Strom, I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be respectful,” I moan, the pain mounting – but I’m not sure if I want the punishment to end, or for him to keep going until I beg for respite.
He slides his finger past my thong, pressing it against the entrance of my pussy teasingly. I moan in pleasure as he explores my sex, and it’s humiliating to know how wet I am. He can feel my desire.
Tanner slowly slides the fat finger in, and my eyes roll back as he enters me. I bite my lip, knowing that if his finger can make me feel this way, his hard cock is going to be almost impossible to handle. I gasp in need, and he slides his finger in farther until there’s a harsh knock at the door.
Fear mixes with the pain and utter lust.
His finger leaves me and I shoot up, standing and smoothing down my skirt. I feel so empty without his thick finger sliding into me.
“Who is it,” Tanner growls. I look down and his pants are tented. He’s got a monster of a dick pressing against his dress pants. I’m frozen for a second, unable to believe how big it is.
I need to see it.
He quickly moves to the other side of the desk, motioning me to sit. I can smell my own arousal and hope it’s not too noticeable.
“It’s Kevin.”
“Come in,” he growls, and the door opens. I crane my neck to see a muscular early-thirties man in a suit.
“What is it? I told you to only come to my office after hours if there’s an emergency.”
“A fight. Jason Muntz and Fred Mason. Mason’s got a bloody nose and Muntz broke his thumb punching him. Our doctors are taking care of it, but you told me to come if there were any broken bones.”
He nods and looks at me.
“Go back to your cabin and think about what you’ve done, Miss. Jones. Tomorrow night you’ll report here and until you decide to tell me the truth, you’re going to be on maid duty for my entire study. That means dusting, cleaning, and making this office pristine – every night until you learn your lesson.”
I stand, my pussy sopping wet and feeling unsatisfied. Kevin gives me a nod, stepping aside to let me pass.
I leave the office and lean against the wall, my knees weak.
It didn’t feel humiliating to be spanked.
It felt fucking hot.
His huge, throbbing cock proved that while he might have started spanking me to teach me a lesson, it turned him on just as badly as it turned me on.
I moan, my nipples aching to be touched, and I force myself to calm down.
I want my Headmaster. I want a man twice as old as me – a man who’s lead men in combat, who’s been at my family dinners… Oh, God, what does that make me?
I bite my lip as the naughty thought rushes through my head.
I’m going to be his little maid… And I’m certainly going to knock over something and earn another harsh spa
nking.
My heart pounds as I walk down the stairs.
I just got spanked by a man twice my age.
A dominant, powerful, man-in-charge.
And I want him to spank me again.
8
Tanner Strom
I return from yelling at the two boys who were fighting and sit down at my desk, shaking my head as I pour a bourbon. They cowered in the doctor’s office, and even the doctor was shocked at the way I talked to them. He’s never seen me lose my cool.
I usually save my drill sergeant voice for serious issues, not just the tussles of young men who are just working out their differences. I was disappointed in myself. Emily Jones is affecting me in ways I shouldn’t let her. It isn’t just a deep lust for her. She’s making me bad at my job.
Today’s not a normal day. I try to close the door softly behind me, but it slams and rocks in the frame.
What have you got yourself into now, Tanner?
My cock grows rock-hard again, as I find myself back in the room in which I just spanked the taboo, off-limits 18-year-old. She was soaking wet for me, and if it wasn’t for the knock at the door I’d be deep inside her right now, making her moan my name out and taking her as my own.
Taking her as your own – and losing your business. If anyone found out what you just did, the whole damn academy would be finished. All your hard work, gone in an instant.
I clench my fists as I look at my desk. I’d pick her up and spread her legs. Taste her off-limits, virgin pussy and feel how wet she is for me. My cock pulses and surges. I won’t be satisfied until I’m filling her with my seed.
She’s feisty. I respect that she was able to go into the busy kitchen and come back smiling. We’ll see how she fares as my personal maid.
This is lunacy. You’d throw everything away, Tanner Strom? And for what?
I down the measure of bourbon and pour myself another.
For the one woman who’s made feel something since I came back from the Middle East.
9