Schoolgirl’s Dress Code Discipline - Sex Stories

Schoolgirl’s Dress Code Discipline

... wanted to make sure you were abiding by your dress code,” he said with a chilling smile. “Think of it as a pop quiz.”

Her pulse slowed. It was just a check! And she was dressed primly. She’d make it through.

“And I’m OK, right? Look, it’s at my knees and everything.”

Principal Denton’s eyes traced up from Annabel’s knees, along the curve of her hip into her waist. She felt him linger on her tits before he finally locked eyes with her again. Her nipples hardened under his scrutiny.

“Maybe. Stand up.” She did. “Now come here.”

Once again, her pulse quickened. “Where,” she asked, her voice anxious and breathy.

“To me. Come around the desk.” She swallowed and complied. Now she stood before him while he remained sitting in his desk chair. Even sitting, he was as tall as she was standing.

Principal Denton’s hand grabbed her hip and traced down her thigh to the hem of her sundress. Fuck, she thought. She could feel the dampness of her own pussy on her thighs. His touch was getting her wet.

“Seems alright,” he said, as if speaking to himself. His hand traced around the hem to the other side before his fingers closed around it. Annabel’s knees trembled and grew weak.

“It’s ok, right?” She asked again. He grinned up at her and started to raise her dress. “M-Mr. Denton—”

“You will address me properly, young lady,” he barked, cutting her off. She silenced immediately.

“Y-yes, P-p-principal, Denton, Sir,” she stammered.

He raised her dress up to ...

... mid-thigh. She felt so bare like this. Her heart was pounding. Was he going to do it again?

“Now what will we find,” he mulled. She looked down at his hand on her dress, on her body, as he exposed her thong-covered pussy. He looked up at her, the tip of his tongue peeking out to lick his lips. “Tasteful,” he sneered. Then, “I can smell how wet you are.”

“I’m not—” She started, but immediately clammed up when Principal Denton’s other hand arced out to the juicy patch at the front of her panties.

“Not what, Anna?” He asked. His fingers traced the slit of her cunt, pressing her wetness into her. She shuddered as he touched her. Like she always did.

“Please, don’t, Mr. Denton, not again—” Her memory churned vividly over the second time she had been in his office. What he had done to her. But the memory was cut short. This time, swiftly, he stood up, towering over her. Before she knew it, he had her bent over his desk.

One his hands had her pinned, right between her shoulderblades, against the cold wood of the desk. His other flipped her dress right up over her ass, the thong nestled between her cheeks, her bare bottom exposed. With a stinging clap, he spanked her. Hard. She yelped.

“I told you, Anna, to address me properly.” A thwacking blow stung her other ass cheek.

“Yes, Sir, I’m sorry, Sir,” she cried.

“That’s better, Anna.” Still pinned by her neck, Anna was helpless as Principal Denton’s big hand rubbed and groped her round ass. “You brought me such a nice ...