The Girls of St Catherine's Ch. 01

The Headmaster Ritual (1)

Prologue: Friday, 26 April

Portia danced sinuously in the half-light of the dimly lit study, closing her eyes and losing herself in the thumping beats and intricate rhythms of the Latin music. She reached up and ran her hands around the brim of her straw hat, the fingers brushing against the silky pink ribbon. She watched him tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair as she eased it off her head and playfully tossed it towards him like a Frisbee. It skidded to a stop next to his sensible black shoes. She ran her hands through her long black hair then slowly down over the trim contours of her slim, young body until they rested on her hips, emphasising their tilt and sway. They moved left and right, undulating in time to the music that played on the radio, her dress swishing against her smooth, bare legs.

Professor Carter, her maths teacher, leant back in the large wing-back chair, lacing his pudgy fingers behind his head and stretching his legs out in front of him. He'd dimmed the main lights in his study and switched on his bright desk lamp before Portia had arrived. As her slim body moved to-and-fro in front of his desk, he was rewarded with shadowy glimpses of her long legs moving beneath the thin floral print dress. He was particularly pleased with her choice of this week's outfit. The thin dress was pale yellow with small red flowers and clung tightly to the girl's subtle curves. He felt his cock stir as he wondered what kind of underwear she'd chosen this week.

Last week she'd revealed a lacy, lilac-coloured bra and pants set as she slipped out of her tight denim cut-offs and khaki t-shirt. And the week before that, a pair of sheer black stockings beneath a silky, burgundy evening dress. When they'd first started their little weekly 'study sessions' she'd worn her school uniform, but she'd been happy to oblige when he suggested that she experiment with different outfits. Happy as long as he kept giving her such generous marks for her assignments, of course.

It was a large but cosy study with a thick carpet and antique mahogany furniture. A half-open door led to a small bedroom with an en-suite bathroom. A roomy, comfortable office was one of the benefits of being both the head of mathematics and the deputy headmaster. Recently, he'd been spending more time here than he did at home in the large detached house he shared with his wife in the nearby village of Eastbrook. In quieter moments, he sometimes wondered if his wife still believed him when he told her that he was working late or had too much to drink at one of the functions he had to attend in his capacity as deputy head.

Portia kicked off her strappy sandals and felt her feet sink into the soft beige carpet. All those dance lessons her parents made her go to on Saturdays were finally paying off, although they'd be horrified to see how she was making use of her skills now. She slipped one of the thin straps from her shoulder as she slowly gyrated, feeling him staring at her, undressing her with his dark eyes, the pupils swollen in the half-light. The first time she'd done this, his intense stare had made her nervous and self-conscious but now it excited her, encouraged her to take more risks.

Maths had never been one of her stronger subjects. She'd often noticed him staring at her in class so when he'd asked her if she'd like some extra tuition one evening she'd been sure that he wasn't talking about extra help with modular arithmetic. It hadn't taken much to tempt him: laughing a little too much at his jokes, sitting a little too close to him, a hand 'accidentally' brushing his leg.

It wasn't so bad though. They had a clear understanding: she'd perform a little dance routine for him whilst she stripped down to her underwear and he'd mark her assignments 'generously'. She made it clear that there was to be no touching and he'd seemed happy with that. Perhaps he felt he wasn't really cheating on his wife this way. In any case, it was a simple arrangement that suited them both.

Somehow, Portia instinctively felt safe around Professor Carter. He was a short, round, distinguished-looking man; not fat exactly, but with the soft, rounded edges and paunch of someone in his fifties, whose main pastime was solving arcane mathematical problems. The metallic frames of his glasses matched the colour of his curly, close-copped steely grey hair and his forehead was etched with the worry-lines of someone who'd spent too many nights fretting about his students' grades. Tonight he was wearing a crumpled navy blue suit and a blue-and-yellow striped tie, the end of which he used to polish the greasy lenses of his glasses. He hooked them back over his ears and leaned forward in his chair as he watched Portia tilt her head back and close her eyes as her hips slowly gyrated, describing the smoothest of ellipses.

"So do you like this week's outfit, Professor?" she asked as she ran her hands through her long, black tresses.

"Oh yes, very much, it's very sexy," he replied, watching as her little diamond stud earrings glinted in the soft light.

"You don't think it's too tight?" she continued, smoothing the thin material over the soft curves of her boobs.

He shook his head, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Or maybe too short?" she purred as she performed a slow pirouette, her hips wiggling sexily, drawing attention to her pert bottom.

"You don't think it's too revealing if I do this?" she said as she paused halfway around and bent forward a little, shaking her bottom provocatively. He couldn't resist reaching out and pinching her, his fingers testing the firmness of her buttocks.

"Professor Carter! You naughty boy!" she protested, spinning around and pretending to be shocked, her glossy lips forming a perfect "O". "Sorry my dear, couldn't resist!" he said, grinning and holding up his hands as he leant back in his chair.

"You know the rules Professor, you can look but you mustn't touch!" she said.

"Ah, but you're just too tempting tonight Portia, I can't help myself," he said, watching as she bent forward and slowly drew her hands along the smooth skin of her endless legs. His breath caught in his throat as her hands caught the hem of her dress, sliding it up over her creamy thighs giving him a teasing glimpse of her white panties.

Portia smiled as she straightened up and eased the other strap over the smooth pale skin of her shoulder.

"Such a naughty professor," she said, leaning forward as she wagged a finger at him.

He had an excellent view of her cleavage as she did so. Her modest but perfectly formed boobs straining against her flimsy dress. She giggled as his grasping hands stretched towards her again. He was in a frisky mood tonight, she thought to herself as she shimmied away from his clutching fingers. The first couple of weeks she'd felt awkward and self-conscious when she was dancing but each week she felt a little more confident, a little more sexy and recently she'd begun to enjoy it.

It was such a contrast. In class, he was the one in control; he was the one that told her what to do. But on Friday evenings the normal rules were reversed, and for an hour or two it was her that was in control. She was the one setting the agenda. It surprised her how much she had started to look forward to it.

"I really need your opinion on my new underwear but you've been such a bad boy I'm not sure I should show you," she teased as she continued to sway to the driving beat of the dance music.

"Please Portia," he whined. "I'll give you an A for you next assignment. Your next two assignments!"

She smiled as she reached under her arm and found the discrete little zip. She felt his eyes burning into her as she eased it lower, the dress falling away and revealing her breasts encased in a lacy, white half-cup brassiere that barely covered her dusky pink nipples.

"Gorgeous," he gasped.

"You like it?" she asked as she eased the material lower so that it bunched around her hips, exposing the smoothly taut skin of her lean stomach.

"Yes, very much," he replied.

He felt his cock strain against his suit trousers as he watched her hips swing back and forth. Portia slowly wriggled the dress over her hips, an inch lower on the left then an inch lower on the right. Taking her time, making him wait, his anticipation building. She could see him leaning forward eagerly as it finally slid down her shapely legs and formed a little yellow and red pool around her ankles.

The professor slowly stroked the swollen bulge in his trousers as Portia ran her hands over the lean contours of her semi-naked flesh. The skimpy white lace of her underwear clung tightly to her young body, the dark shadows of her nipples clearly visible beneath her semi-transparent brassiere.

"Looks like someone's very happy with my outfit," she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand coquettishly and nodding towards the growing tent in his trousers.

He watched as she ran her hands slowly up and down her semi-naked body. It was such sweet torture watching but not being able to touch her succulent, young flesh, to be able to feel the warmth of her silky skin, assess the plump firmness of those cupcake breasts. She looked so hot tonight.

The blood pounded in his ears as his sweaty hands fumbled with the zip. He felt a surge of hot pleasure as he slid his hands inside and squeezed his swollen cock. His heart thumped against his chest so hard it was almost painful.

"So you like my new bra?" she asked, running her hands over her boobs and squeezing the soft, round curves so that her flesh strained against the flimsy material.

"Yes, oh God yes," he replied, watching as she squeezed them together emphasizing the depth of her cleavage.

"And my new knickers?" she continued, turning around and bending over a little so that he had a fine view of her peachy buttocks bisected by a thin strip of white lace.

He nodded eagerly as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft and gently stroked himself.

Portia continued to dance as she watched him ease his erection from his pants, watching as he caressed the swollen shaft. Often, he would already have finished by now, prematurely achieving a happy ending before he could extract his cock from his pants but it looked like she'd have to work a little harder tonight.

"Gosh! It's so big Sir! So big and hard!" she gasped, feigning surprise as she peered into the darkness beyond the pool of bright light.

Actually, he wasn't particularly big. Or perhaps it just didn't seem that big against his fleshy thighs and flabby stomach. It was all part of her performance, he was well on his way now, and she just had to coax him over the edge.

"Are you touching yourself? Oh professor, what a naughty boy you are!" she cooed.

"I can't help it. You're such a tease, you turn me on so much," he panted.

"Mmm, I do like teasing you. I'm such a bad, bad girl, aren't I? Perhaps I need to be punished. I bet you'd like to give me a good old-fashioned spanking, wouldn't you?" she smiled as she reached behind her and undid her bra clasp.

He felt his cock grow even harder as she slid the lacy bra from her arms with one hand, whilst she used to other to cover her perky breasts. She giggled as she tossed the bra towards him so that it landed on the arm of his chair.

"Yes, you need a good, hard spanking, you're such a wicked girl," the professor said breathlessly, as he continued to slide his fist up and down his rock hard prick, trying to ignore the slight burning sensation in his chest. There were indigestion tablets in the bathroom; he'd take some later.

"Mmm, you'd like that wouldn't you?" she purred suggestively. "I bet you'd like to bend me over your knee wouldn't you Sir? Hmm? Pull my knickers down and teach me a lesson I won't forget!"

"God, you're such a tease," he grunted, watching as she slid her hands down over her chest to reveal perfect gravity-defying boobs tipped with stubby pink nipples. Boobs that just begged to be held and squeezed. She spread her legs and placed her hands on her knees, her hips gyrating, her naked breasts jiggling as if she was being fucked from behind.

"Oh God!" the professor croaked as he watched her slim hips moving faster as the beat grew quicker, the music building to a climax, pounding in his head. He imagined her climbing onto his chair, her legs spread, her knees on either side of his thighs. The taut lacy material of her panties rubbing against his aching cock as their hot, sweaty bodies pressed together. Her firm breasts bobbing in front of his face as she slid a hand between her firm, young thighs and hooked her panties to one side revealing swollen, moist pussy lips beneath a neatly trimmed triangle of dark hair.

His heart was thumping like a bass drum now and his vision was starting to get a bit blurry at the edges.

"Maybe I shouldn't have had that second gin and tonic at the pub earlier," he thought as the room began to sway alarmingly. The pain in his chest had spread to his left arm now as he feverishly pumped his fleshy cock.

"God, it's so hot in here, I can hardly breathe," he coughed. He loosened his tie with his free hand, desperately fumbling with the top button of his shirt. He was gasping for breath now, like a fish out of water. It felt like the air had been drained of oxygen. The room spun and swayed around him as his vision became darker and darker. He felt himself losing consciousness, surrendering to the darkness slowly filling his vision until it swallowed him.

"Professor Carter!" Portia shrieked, suddenly realising that something was wrong as his eyelids fluttered then closed and his limp body slumped back in his chair.

"Professor! Are you OK?" she said, grasping his shoulders and shaking him.

He was limp now, his face bright red, one fist still wrapped tightly around his deflated cock, the other clutching his chest as his breath rasped in his throat. She skipped over to his desk and picked up the 'phone.

"Night porter? Call an ambulance; I think Professor Carter's having a heart attack!"

Wednesday, 1 May

"Ah, good morning, Portia, do have a seat," the headmaster said, standing up and gesturing towards a chair in front of his desk. He watched as the girl sat down and demurely crossed her legs, smoothing her pleated skirt over her knees then neatly folding her hands in her lap.

"Now you're not in any trouble, and I know you must have found all this quite traumatic but I just need to understand what happened last Friday, OK?"

Portia nodded and smiled bravely.

"Good; well why don't you tell me what happened in your own words? Take your time, and let me know everything you remember, OK?"

"Well Sir, I've been having trouble with my grades recently and when I told Professor Carter, he invited me to his rooms so we could work through my assignments together."

"I see; and he wanted you to come to his rooms at 9 o'clock on a Friday evening?"

"Yes, I think he said he was going out earlier in the evening but he could see me later. I think he goes to the local pub with some of the other teachers on Fridays."

"OK, good, so you went over there at nine. Now I understand you weren't wearing your uniform, is that right?"

"Yes Sir. I'm going to a wedding next weekend and I'd been showing off a new dress to my room-mates. I guess I thought I'd wear it to the Professor's so I could get a man's opinion too."

"I see, and is that why you were wearing the make-up and the earrings?" he said, trying to sound neutral and keep the scepticism from his voice.

"Yes Sir, I wanted an opinion on exactly what I was planning to wear."

"OK, go on."

"Well, we both sat at his desk and he began to lead me through some of the questions on differentiation. At first, it all went well and I felt I was learning quite a lot from the one-on-one attention. But then, after about thirty minutes, I noticed he was looking quite hot. He was sweating and seemed to be short of breath, so I suggested he sit in his armchair and I helped him loosen his tie."

"Go on."

"Well he just got worse and worse, his breathing became laboured and he kept clutching his chest. So when he began to lose his consciousness I thought it was best to call the night porter."

"And he hadn't done anything in particular to bring this on? No physical exertion of any kind?"

"No Sir. As I say, we were studying together and then suddenly he was unwell. It all happened so quickly."

"OK, so you called the porter and then you went to Miss Hunter's room?"

"Yes, after the phone call I ran down the corridor to get Miss Hunter, the first aider, and she helped the Professor until the medics arrived."

"Now Miss Hunter says you weren't wearing any shoes, is that right?"

"I took them off Sir. I thought I could run faster without them."

"I see, and you're sure he hadn't done anything to bring this on?" the headmaster said, standing up and walking over to the window."

"No Sir, we were just studying."

"Well, I went to see Geoffrey, I mean Professor Carter, at the hospital today and you'll be pleased to hear that it was only a minor stroke. The doctors think he'll make a full recovery."

"Well that's great news Sir," Portia said delightedly. "So he'll be returning to the school?"

"Well, not for the time being. In view of his age and his health problems I've suggested that he take this opportunity to think about early retirement."

The head paced up and down as he thought about what to do next. He didn't really believe Portia's story; there was definitely something fishy going on. The doctor he'd spoken to said that the kind of stroke the Professor had had was normally caused by over-exertion. And as difficult as the headmaster found maths, it was hardly physically demanding.

On the other hand, Geoffrey said he couldn't remember much of the evening but what he could remember didn't differ from the girl's story. As they were the only two present, he couldn't really disprove their story. Obviously, his wife had been very upset when she'd heard he'd been rushed to hospital, was there any point in upsetting her further by implying there was something going on? Or creating a scandal at the time of year when parents were thinking about enrolling their daughters for next year? No, he'd been asked to investigate by the board of governors and he'd done all he reasonably could. He couldn't see any reason to rock the boat any further. Perhaps it was best if they all moved on from this.

He stopped pacing and turned back towards the girl, who was still waiting patiently.

"Well now Portia, I think you know that the uniform policy is quite strict here. It's usually two weeks detention if you're caught out of uniform on a weekday. On the other hand, your quick thinking may well have saved Professor Carter's life, so I'm going to be lenient this time. I'll suspend the two weeks detention until the end of term. Do you understand what that means?"

"I think so Sir. Thank you, Sir," she replied.

"OK, well I think you've had enough excitement for now so I want you to get back to class and concentrate on your studies, okay?"

"Yes Sir, thanks again Sir," Portia said as she stood up. She flashed the headmaster's secretary a smile as she walked past her desk. Not even a detention! She skipped down the stairs, feeling overwhelmed with relief.

The headmaster grimaced as he took a sip of his tea, finding it had gone cold whilst they'd been talking. He sighed and picked up a handful of CVs from the in-tray in his desk. It was such a bloody nuisance. Geoffrey had obviously been fooling around with that girl, the silly old sod. And now, as usual, it was left to him to clear up the mess. One thing was clear: they didn't have much cover, so he needed to get someone in quickly. Both Miss Hunter and Mr Wicklow had offered to help out, although he reckoned they were more interested in positioning themselves for the vacancy of deputy head. He'd already placed some adverts and had a few CVs in. If he worked quickly, he could organise interviews for next week and maybe get someone in for the week after. He needed someone who was cheap and, most importantly, available to start as soon as possible. He asked his secretary to get him another cup of tea then picked up the first CV and started reading.