Archive of Our Own

Kris was hiding in a cupboard. He did not particularly want to be there but, on the other hand, being anywhere else seemed worse. It was too bad the safehouse had been compromised. It was too bad Melanie had been arrested. It was too bad, in fact, that every part of his carefully built life was falling to pieces around him.

It had all seemed so simple, years ago, when he was just another kid picking pockets on the train platforms or in the market square. Sasha had been the perfect ally. How was he to have known then where they would end up? That a meteoric rise to power might eventually have some sort of payback?

“Stacey Parting! What made you think this was in any way acceptable?”

A week ago, he had been flush with success, the greatest haul of their illustrious career sitting pretty in their hands. Now, he was hiding in a cupboard in the basement of The Priory School for Girls. Who knew where Sasha had gone? It made sense to separate but Kris’s heart hurt with worry for him. It looked as though Sasha had managed to stay anonymous but Kris’s name was plastered across the newspapers. The entire city was out looking for him and soon there would be nowhere left to run.

“These are not the knickers of a respectable woman!”

Kris presumed the shouting lady was some sort of matron or nurse. Clearly a student had non-regulation panties. If this was the reaction that could get, Kris could only imagine what would happen if a man was discovered hiding out in the school. He was going to have to find a way out of this. He needed to think of a plan. Any sort of plan. Unfortunately, in the days he had spent on the run, every idea he came up with had crumbled to dust in his hands.

The teacher and student shouted at one another for quite some time but, eventually, they left. Kris emerged from his cupboard, cracking his joints. The basement doubled as a laundry room – hot, humid, and cluttered. There weren’t many clothes around. It was early in the term; students had been arriving all week. Kris had heard several arrive in his slow journey from a cupboard by the back door to the basement cupboard he had enjoyed for the past hour. All of which made one thing as possible as it was deranged.

Kris ransacked the room. He managed to find a uniform skirt and blouse amongst the bedlinens, perhaps lost property from the previous year. The blouse was a fraction too big and the skirt too small but he was desperate. He shed his street clothes and pulled them on. It only needed to be enough to get him out of the building, and maybe as far as the station before somebody noticed anything suspicious. If he was lucky, he could pickpocket the money for a train fare on the way.

He had caught glimpses of uniformed girls during his hideout session. He needed stockings, those ridiculous little buckle shoes, and preferably some kind of underwear because his usual shorts were much too bulky beneath the woollen school skirt. It bunched oddly at his hips, like he was wearing saddlebags. Feeling as though he were in a dream, Kris yanked open drawers and rifled through till he had a pair of stockings with only the smallest ladder in them and a pair of shoes that pinched horribly at the toes. Of regulation knickers, however, there was no sign.

He had already gone so far. How much worse could it get? Kris raced back across the room to the bin where Stacey’s offending panties had been thrown. At one glance, Kris could see why. There was barely anything there, just string and lace. They looked as though they would fall apart in a stiff breeze. With a muttered curse to any god who might be listening, Kris pulled them on. They were tight in all the wrong places but at least the skirt was hanging properly. There was no mirror to see himself in but he would have to hope it was enough. Heart in his mouth, Kris headed for the stairs.

The narrow corridors were busy enough that Kris could blend in. He kept his head down and moved fast. His hand darted out with expert skill into the pockets of passing girls. As soon as he saw a sign for the toilets, he ducked inside. Empty. Maybe his old luck was holding. Maybe he would get out of this alive.

He examined the contents of his pockets. Schoolgirls apparently didn’t carry much worth noticing. A stub of pencil, a few small coins, a length of ribbon. Kris glanced at his face in the mirror. He was young enough still that it wasn’t immediately obvious that he was a man in a skirt but he was going to need all the help he could get. Perhaps he would do well to bandage up his face and pretend he’d fallen into a fireplace or something.

Make-up. He’d get hold of some make-up as soon as he was able to. In the meantime, the ribbon would have to suffice. He tied it clumsily around his dark hair, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t found the time to get a haircut recently. It was still short for a schoolgirl but perhaps he could pretend he’d had lice a few months ago or something. The bow was lopsided but it did soften his features. He looked cute. So long as nobody was examining him under a microscope, it would do.

The door to the bathroom opened and Kris dived into a stall. He heard laughter as two girls walked in, clearly unaware of him. He let out his breath in a rush. Safe another moment. That was all that counted. Just second by second, he had to stay alive.

“Matron’s in an absolute state,” one of the girls remarked. “Apparently, someone’s not shown up who should have been here hours ago.”

“Who? Not Irene again?”

“No, some new girl called Veronica. I expect she’s got chickenpox and her parents forgot to write in time. Matron’s losing her mind over it.”

“It wouldn’t be a new year if she wasn’t going mad about something.”

The girls chattered back and forth for a while. Kris made a mental note of everything that might be helpful: class names, teachers, buildings. At last, they left and he felt brave enough to emerge from his stall. He faced himself in the mirror.

“Okay,” he whispered. “You can do this.”

No sooner had he stepped back out into the corridor when a hand seized his shoulder. Kris nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Hey! Where’s your tie?”

“My…my tie?” Kris stammered, remembering only just in time to feign a higher pitch.

“Yes, your tie,” the tall girl said impatiently. “Have you not reported to Matron yet?”

“Oh! I…I don’t…I’m new…” Kris grasped at straws. “I’ve only just arrived but I’ve got a little lost and…”

“All new girls have to report to Matron as soon as they arrive.” The girl’s expression softened just a fraction. “Come on. I’ll show you the way. What’s your name?”

“Veronica.”

“Oh!” The girl lit up. “You’re Veronica Manor! Oh, thank goodness! Matron’s going to be so relieved to see you! I’m so glad I found you!”

Kris let himself be ushered down the corridor. He only hoped that Matron did not have a picture of the mysterious Veronica.

*

It turned out that nobody knew what Veronica Manor was supposed to look like. Everybody accepted Kris’s cover story with barely a question. He was issued a school tie, and his laments that he had lost his luggage in some confusion over trains was met only with sympathy. Matron lent him a toothbrush and before Kris knew what was happening, he was being shown into a dormitory packed with schoolgirls.

“Everybody!” Matron called. “Everybody, this is Veronica. She’ll be joining you this year.”

Kris forced a shy smile. Immediately, there was a girl at his side clutching his arm.

“Veronica! It’s so good to meet you! Your bed is over here by mine, I’m Lizzie, you won’t believe the fuss that’s been made over you! What on earth happened?”

Kris found himself repeating the train story to her, and then to several more girls. He embellished as he went, trusting that he would be long gone before anyone thought to check the details. He was installed in a bed half-way down the dormitory, had bathroom schedules explained to him, and had the bow in his hair retied by a sympathetic girl who whispered to him that she had also had her head shaved once and understood the struggle to look pretty with short hair.

“It’s only a shame we can’t wear make-up,” she sighed regretfully. “But if you’re caught with even the smallest amount of rouge, you’ll be caned for it.”

That was death to the make-up part of his disguise, then. His ruse would never survive a caning.

“There! You look so sweet! I have so many ribbons; I can lend you some. You’d look so nice in blue.”

Kris was warming so quickly to these girls who had welcomed him with open arms that it was only when he was being hurried down to dinner with them that he realised the predicament he was in. It seemed schoolgirls were never given space to themselves. They moved as a pack, shuffled from room to room according to schedule. If he wanted to escape – and he must escape – he would have to find a way to get out unobserved.

“I’m so glad to be back!” one girl sighed over dinner. “It’s awful being out in the country where nothing happens. Why, I didn’t even know till I got here that there was a murderer on the loose!”

“He’s not a murderer,” another girl protested, whilst Kris tried not to let his horror show. “He’s some sort of jewel thief or something.”

“They say he killed someone!”

Kris shovelled food into his mouth as fast as possible. If he was going to be arrested any second, he could at least do it on a full stomach. He hadn’t seen a decent meal since it all went wrong.

“No, that was his partner. His partner killed someone.”

“He was still there,” the other girl said obstinately. “I bet he’s killed people before too.”

“Kristopher Talbot,” an older girl said, importantly. “He’s a very dangerous man, murderer or not. The papers say he’ll be hanged.”

A girl must have caught sight of Kris’s white face because she grabbed his hand and squeezed it sympathetically.

“Oh, Veronica, don’t worry! There’s a huge bounty on his head! They’re bound to catch him!”

The older girl nodded her agreement. “Besides, he steals from banks and things. Not schools. He has no reason to ever come here.”

That night, Kris slept like a baby. He had managed to plead shyness in order to change into his regulation nightgown without anybody looking at him. His story had been bought wholeheartedly. The beds were comfortable. The food was good. He might be quite happy to be a schoolgirl for weeks if he got the chance. If only a death sentence didn’t loom over him, he might even be enjoying himself.

*

Classes at The Priory were long and regimented. The rooms of dark desks and uncomfortable chairs made Kris wary. He knew how to read, of course. That was about the only educational accomplishment he felt fit to claim.

“Veronica!” Betsy waved across the classroom to him. “Come sit with me!”

Kris hurried over to the desk beside her, in the middle row. “Hi!”

“Have you met Mr Leonard yet?” Betsy leaned over to whisper to him. “He’s absolutely dreamy! I swear, everyone’s in love with him!”

“Everyone?” Kris glanced around, and there did indeed seem to be a few more hair ribbons and bows than he had seen the previous evening.

Betsy nodded enthusiastically. “He’s sort of scary! Dignified, you know? But he’s ever so clever! You’ll like him!”

“Enough chattering!” A tall man strode into the room. “Silence!”

The room fell quiet immediately. Mr Leonard, as he was apparently known, surveyed the class. He was good-looking, though nothing near as handsome as Kris had assumed based on Betsy’s description. He had a severe face, his mouth set in an uncompromising line. By force of habit, Kris assessed the set of his shoulders, the shape of his hands, and made a judgement. Mr Leonard was not someone he would want to try and fight.

“This year,” Mr Leonard announced, “you will be studying the Second Channel War. Has anybody done any prior reading?”

Every hand in the class shot up except Kris’s. He winced, and tentatively raised it a few inches, just to fit in.

“Excellent.” Mr Leonard did not smile, nor did his expression soften in the least. “So, Dolores, I assume this means you are able to explain to me what the Channel Wars were fought over?”

“I…um…” Dilly shot to her feet, tugging self-consciously at her skirt. “The Channel Wars were…um…they were fought over…over fishing rights in the North Channel, which was…was really about tensions between the isolationist government of Tebarn and the…the expansionist government of Endria.”

Dilly was almost beetroot with embarrassment but Mr Leonard’s face finally warmed a little, a smile just barely shifting his mouth. “That is exactly right. Good girl.”

Dilly sighed in relief and sank back into her chair.

“So.” Mr Leonard grabbed a piece of chalk. “Tebarn. What can you girls tell me?”

Kris did his best to keep up but he was no match for these overeducated boarding school girls. He only understood about half of what they said. Taking the required notes, he was acutely aware of how illegible his handwriting was, sprawling across the page as though dragged behind a spider. When Mr Leonard leaned over and tutted at the sight of it, Kris felt uncharacteristically small.

“Stay after class, Veronica,” was all he said.

Betsy gave Kris an encouraging look as she left, with a wink at Mr Leonard’s back, but Kris couldn’t bring himself to smile. He had been trying to avoid all members of staff. The last thing he needed was for a teacher to take a good long look at him and notice the subtle things that were out of place.

“Veronica.” Mr Leonard turned to face him. “I take it you have never studied Tebarnese politics before.”

Kris kept his eyes lowered and shook his head. Better not to speak if he could help it.

“It’s alright. Not everybody has the same opportunities as others. I understand you have never been to a school of this calibre before. It is natural that you should be somewhat behind.”

Don’t ask questions, don’t ask questions, Kris pleaded in the privacy of his own head. He wasn’t sure his story would hold up under interrogation. He was already on borrowed time.

“Look at me, Veronica.”

Kris lifted his eyes to meet Mr Leonard’s. The teacher studied him thoughtfully, his expression unreadable.

“You will have to work hard to keep up,” he announced, at last. “I suggest practicing your handwriting every chance you get.”

Kris felt weak with relief. “Yes, sir.”

“If you need any assistance, come to my office. I would be happy to tutor you.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Kris squeaked.

“You may go, Veronica.”

Kris fled. Betsy was waiting in the corridor.

“Well?” she asked eagerly. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Yes,” Kris lied. “He’s so kind.”

Deep down inside, he felt sick. He needed to come up with a plan. Mr Leonard looked like the kind of man who asked questions. If Kris ended up having to take private lessons with him, he was bound to slip up somewhere. Sooner or later, the Veronica ruse would fall apart completely and he’d be in prison before he could blink.

*

In the end, Kris spent five days as a schoolgirl. The food was good and the hours were regular. If only he weren’t constantly on edge for the first sign of trouble, he might have thought life as a schoolgirl suited him perfectly. Instead, he was starting to look hollow around the eyes. The anxiety was eating him alive.

There had been a few close calls throughout the week. Several times other girls had almost caught sight of him changing. Games classes were supposed to start the next day and unless Kris could fake a very convincing headache, he was bound to be exposed. There was nothing for it. There was a train leaving from the midtown station at midnight. Kris intended to be on it.

The plan, when he made it, seemed so simple. He stole from Lizzie in the next bed just enough to pay for a fare. He wished he didn’t have to, but her purse was always heavy with the pocket money her father sent her. She would scarcely notice. That evening, when he was supposed to be getting into his nightgown, he kept his skirt and stockings on underneath, pulling the blanket up around his neck in bed before anyone could see him. He had his shoes on too. A blouse and tie could be exchanged without any trouble. All he had to do was wait until every girl in the dormitory was sleeping.

It was past eleven by the time he was ready to risk it. Slow, heavy breathing came from the beds around him. Over by the window, Betsy snored. He would have to be quick but he should make it in time for the last train. He slithered out of bed and stood up slowly. Nobody stirred. With painful care, he pulled his nightgown off over his head and shrugged on his blouse. He stuffed his tie into his pocket. One step at a time, he made his way down the long line of beds. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoingly loud in the stillness of the room. It seemed a lifetime before he was at the door.

Standing in the doorway, Kris took the time to button his blouse. He chanced an affectionate glance back at the girls. In a way, he was sorry to be leaving them. They were all such innocents. In another life, it would have been fun to learn poetry with them, or sing those insipid little hymns with all the fire and brimstone purged to make them suitable for delicate minds. With a respectful nod to the ones who had unwittingly helped his ruse, he slipped out into the corridor.

Everything was dark. It was well past curfew. Kris hurried down one corridor, then another. The doors would be impossible – heavy, locked, bound to creak too loud – but there was a big sash window in one of the classrooms. He could climb out and drop straight into the shrubbery. From there it was only a short hop over the wall and he would be out in the city. A mile or two and he would be on a westbound train. Escape was finally in sight.

A floorboard creaked ominously. Kris froze. There was always a teacher up for at least the first part of the night, just in case of misbehaviour or illness. But it seemed they were somewhere else. Nothing moved. Kris set off again as fast as he dared.

The window was closed but the lock on it was old. Kris didn’t even need to pick it. It broke with one sharp shove of a pencil. He raised the sash till the little bolt clicked into place to hold it up. The resulting gap was still narrow but Kris stuck his head through boldly. The night air was cool on his flushed face. Kris pushed himself forward, but no sooner was he half way through than the sash window dropped.

The impact punched the air from his lungs. Kris winced in pain. The clip must have given out. Nobody seemed to do any proper maintenance in these old buildings. Kris tried to reach round to raise the window again but his arms were pinned. He hunched his back to force it up but the window was too heavy. Panic began to seize him. He was stuck.

Kris wriggled frantically but all he succeeded in doing was bunching his skirt up around his waist and scraping the skin of his waist raw. The sash window pinched him too tightly, forcing his breath shallow and uneven. He paused, panting, and gazed down at the shrubbery so devastatingly close. If he could just get his arms round to raise the window another inch, he could be free. He couldn’t miss this train. This might be his last chance.

“Well, well, well.”

Kris froze up. Every muscle turned to stone. The slow confident drawl was unmistakeably that of Mr Leonard. Kris could hear his neat, polished shoes clicking on the wooden boards. His heart rabbited in his chest.

“Sneaking out after lights out, are we?” A huff of laughter. “Or trying to.”

Kris nearly bit through his tongue in terror. Steeling himself, he forced his best falsetto.

“Oh, Mr Leonard, sir! I…I seem to be a little stuck!”

“Indeed.” Mr Leonard was so close behind him that Kris could feel the warmth of his body. He was acutely aware of how much of his legs were exposed, how precariously he was balanced on his toes, arse up. “And in such a compromising position, too. Where did you think you were going?”

“I…” Kris sought desperately for an answer. “There’s a play! In town! I…I wanted to go and see it! I’m so sorry, sir, I know I shouldn’t have, but I do love the theatre so much and –”

“The theatre, hmm?”

Kris nearly sobbed with relief as he felt Mr Leonard’s hands brush his waist, up against the bite of the sash window. Just let him be free of it. He’d figure out another plan from there. If Mr Leonard opened it, he could throw himself out and there might still be time to run before he called for help.

“The theatre…” Mr Leonard chuckled. “Dressed like that?”

Kris’s mind blanked. He was wearing the school uniform, wasn’t he? What was –

“Those don’t look like regulation knickers to me.”

Kris’s heart stopped beating. If he had any muscles left to tense, he tensed them. His face was burning red. He longed to at least turn and see Mr Leonard’s expression, longed to cover himself up, but all he could do was gaze helplessly into the night. Damn Stacey and her scrap-of-nothing underwear choices. Damn those short little school skirts for riding up so high. His whole arse must be hanging out.

“No, definitely not,” Mr Leonard drawled. “These panties… Goodness me, so very bold for a little thing like you. I don’t think you were just going to the theatre. Were you, little one?”

Kris tasted blood. “I…okay, I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry! I was going to meet a…a boy! I’m really, really sorry! It won’t happen again! If you could just help me out of this window, I –”

His voice died in his throat as he felt a large warm hand brush against his exposed skin. Mr Leonard’s fingers plucked the lace of his borrowed panties. Kris tried to pull further away but he had no space left to move. Without warning, Mr Leonard’s hand came down across his arse with a sharp crack. Kris yelped, more in surprise than pain.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Mr Leonard growled, bringing his hand down for another strike. “You deserve a proper caning.”

Kris nearly bit through his lip trying to keep from crying out. This time it really did hurt. Mr Leonard rubbed roughly at the globes of his arse, half-soothing and half-abrasive.

“A wicked little slut like you should be ashamed to show her in face in a school like this.”

Even though he knew it wasn’t true, even though it should have meant nothing to him, Kris felt humiliation curling in his stomach anyway. The next slap stung so bad that he couldn’t help but move, bumping his hip hard against the window until he was sure he had drawn blood.

“What? Nothing to say for yourself?”

Mr Leonard’s fingers slipped beneath the thin band of elastic that was Kris’s last vestige of modesty and pulled it back to snap against him. Kris whimpered.

“And this boy you were going to meet, dressed up all pretty?” Mr Leonard’s voice lowered. “Have you seen him before? Has he has the pleasure of your little arse all wrapped up in lace for him?”

“No, sir! Never!” Kris wasn’t faking the high pitch anymore. “Please, sir! I didn’t mean anything by it!”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. Young things like you, so needy, you can’t help yourselves. I expect you tried so hard to be good, didn’t you? But in the end, you couldn’t resist. You need it so badly. Your body is crying out for it.”

There was no ambiguity in Mr Leonard’s hands now. They roamed freely over Kris’s arse, squeezing and groping. His fingers crept down the backs of Kris’s thighs to stroke the high hem of his school-regulation stockings. Kris struggled desperately but the window held him firm. Mr Leonard gripped his hips tightly to steady him.

“Don’t be scared, little one,” he murmured. “I promise you, all this confusion won’t last forever.”

“Please,” Kris begged. “Help me out. I’ll go back to bed, I’ll never do anything like this again, please!”

“Oh, but you will!” Mr Leonard’s hips bumped up against him, the hard length of his cock unmistakably aroused. “Your body has needs that you don’t know how to satisfy. You’ll try again to be good but sooner or later, you’ll give in to your baser instincts. It’s always that way with sluts like you.”

“Please…” Kris choked out.

“Don’t worry, little one.” Mr Leonard’s hands soothed along the stripe of waist still trapped inside the room. “I can make all the pain go away.”

In one sudden movement, he gripped Kris’s panties and ripped them in two. Kris felt cold air on his arse. His cock was hanging free. Could Mr Leonard see it? If he carried on this way, he would feel it at any moment. Terror wrapped an icy hand around Kris’s throat as he stared unseeingly into the darkness.

There was a rustling behind him, a slight creak of the floorboards, then Kris’s mouth fell open in shock and horror as he felt soft lips press against the curve of his arse.

“There,” Mr Leonard soothed. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“Sir!” Kris’s voice cracked. “Sir, I don’t –”

“Don’t be scared.” Mr Leonard kissed his tailbone. “I’m going to give you everything you need.”

Kris felt the teacher’s hands creep up his thighs, sliding between to spread them wider. Kris tried to resist but he couldn’t get the leverage. Mr Leonard manipulated him expertly into position. Those same hands slid higher. A thumb glid along his perineum and Kris couldn’t keep from gasping at the shock of it. Mr Leonard’s fingers stroked along the seam of his balls, brushed the underside of his cock. Kris screwed up his eyes tight and waited for the fury.

“That’s it.” Mr Leonard sighed gently. “Just relax, little one. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

Kris’s eyes bugged wide as Mr Leonard stroked the vein of his cock, brushed a thumb over the head. He whimpered, oversensitive. Despite himself, heat pooled in his groin. Mr Leonard knew. How long had he known?  

“So sensitive.” Mr Leonard kissed the crease where his hip joined his thigh. “There’s no need to be insecure. Everybody’s clitoris,” his hand expertly twisted around the head of Kris’s cock, startling a moan out of him, “is different.”

Kris panted hard. He was trying to regather his thoughts, trying to make some sense of what was going on, trying to control the prickling heat crawling over his skin and the blood slowly filling his cock. He never got a chance. No sooner had Mr Leonard released him then he parted Kris’s cheeks and pressed a delicate kiss to Kris’s hole. Kris’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Good girl. That’s right. Spread your legs a little wider for me.”

Kris tried to close them but Mr Leonard pushed his feet apart anyway, till Kris was barely standing on the tips of his toes. Mr Leonard kissed him again, flicked his tongue out of his mouth to brush over the puckered skin. Kris gasped for breath, sagging over the window, head hanging low till his chin nearly brushed the brickwork.

“Beautiful,” Mr Leonard praised. “So beautiful.”

“Please,” Kris begged. “Don’t do this.”

“Sssh.” Mr Leonard licked him in one broad stripe from his cock back to his hole. “You need this so badly. Look at you.”

Kris moaned despite himself as Mr Leonard picked up a rhythm, teasing his tongue around his hole. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Every touch seemed to reach directly into his brain. The teacher kissed and licked, light and fluttering. Kris felt his stomach tighten, his thighs start quivering. His cock was hard and dripping, tenting his skirt. He felt sick. He felt helpless. He could almost hear the train pulling out of the station, leaving him behind.

Mr Leonard’s hands gripped tighter at his hips and he buried his face in deeper, his tongue breaching the tight ring of muscle. Kris groaned uselessly, hands scrabbling for purchase still pinned by the window. Mr Leonard seemed to take that as encouragement, tasting deeper, pressing his face in closer. Kris shook and trembled under his ministrations. He had no power to push back or pull away. His mind was turning hazy. It had been so long since someone had touched him. Nobody had ever touched him quite like this.

The pleasure built slowly. Kris tried to rut his aching cock against the wall but all he managed was a slight tantalising friction against the stiff wool of his skirt. Mr Leonard seemed oblivious to his distress. He was preoccupied with eating Kris alive. Kris felt as though he were disappearing, the whole world fading away. The night seemed to swallow his vision, strand him in the void, till everything had narrowed to just the exquisite pleasure of Mr Leonard’s tongue and his own mounting need.

“Please,” Kris begged, and he no longer had any idea what he was begging for. “Please, sir, I – I don’t –”

“Look how hungry your pussy is,” Mr Leonard growled, nipping a sharp bite at Kris’s arse. “Practically sucking me in. No wonder you needed it so badly, you little slut. You’re desperate for it.”

“No, I – sir, please, it’s – oh!”

“Good girl, doesn’t that feel good?” Mr Leonard’s tongue reached deeper inside him than it ever had before, exploring the tight heat of his hole. “Aren’t I treating you well?”

Kris’s mouth opened in a soundless shout as he came, toes curling, shuddering so hard he felt the sash bite deep into his flesh. His cock spurted, staining his skirt and the wall. Tears of relief and humiliation slipped from his eyes. Mr Leonard ate him through it, kept licking and sucking as though he hadn’t even noticed. Kris sobbed, overwhelmed. His legs were shaking so badly they could no longer hold his weight. He collapsed, broken in half over the window frame, as Mr Leonard finally released him.

“Please!” Kris wept. “Please, sir, I can’t! I can’t!”

“Sssh.” Calloused fingers rubbed soothing circles on his hips. “You’re doing so well, little one. You did beautifully for me. Such a good girl.”

One finger stroked up beside his hole, the tip sliding inside. Kris groaned, muscles spasming. Mr Leonard tugged at his hole, hooking his finger around the rim before pulling back. Kris whimpered uselessly. He sought to say something but he couldn’t find it in him to form words.

“Your cunt is dripping, little one.” Mr Leonard dragged his hands through the residue of cum still clinging to Kris’s cock and dipped a second finger inside of him, the barest invasion, one knuckle deep at most. “You’re so wet for me. Needy, needy little slut.”

“Sir!” Kris choked out. “Please! I can’t – I don’t –”

“I know, little one. You’re still not satisfied. Don’t worry. I said I’d take care of you.”

Horror gripped Kris’s heart even through the post-orgasmic fog. He felt something burning hot and impossibly large press against his entrance.

“No!” he managed. “No, sir, please!”

Mr Leonard gripped his hips tightly as he eased his cock inside. Kris cried out but he couldn’t fight it. He tried to push against it but he only succeeded in taking the man further into him. His hole was loose and relaxed. The burn only began as Mr Leonard pressed further and further. Kris felt the heat deep inside of him, a pressure unlike anything he’d ever known, and still Mr Leonard kept going.

At last, his hips rested against Kris’s arse, the entirety of his cock sheathed inside. Kris’s mouth was open wide, strained, but no sound was coming out. He didn’t dare move a muscle. He felt as though he had been split open, pinned and skewered like an animal on the vivisection table. He was convinced he could feel Mr Leonard’s cock pressing up against his heart.

“Oh, little one, you’re so tight.” For the first time that evening, Mr Leonard sounded less than composed. His voice was rough and uneven. “So tight for me, so good.”

Kris could only manage a strangled sound in response and Mr Leonard chuckled. He drew his hips back just a fraction and pushed back in, slow and deep. A pathetic mewl escaped Kris’s lips as a sensation so overwhelming it couldn’t be called pleasure or pain ripped through him.

“That’s it,” Mr Leonard grunted. “Open up for me like a good little girl. Look at you, squeezing round my cock like a proper whore. You were made for this, little one. You were made to have a big cock split your cunt wide open.”

Kris moaned in distress as Mr Leonard began to roll his hips, gliding in and out, an aching, relentless rhythm. Every movement seemed to touch parts of him he hadn’t known existed. Mr Leonard held him tighter, began to thrust harder and faster.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what that boy was going to do to you? Was he going to treat you this well? Open up that virgin hole of yours and use you like you were born to be used?”

Mr Leonard slammed into him and hit some place inside that made Kris scream. Pleasure lashed through him. His eyes rolled back. Distantly, he heard Mr Leonard laugh.

“Oh, you like that, little one? You like it just there?”

Kris wailed as Mr Leonard drove into that point again and again. He felt as though every atom of his body was going to fly apart. His mind was blank and empty. He was sure he was saying something but he had no idea what words were coming out. All he was aware of was the heat crawling in his skin, the pleasure striking his brain like lightning with every thrust, the awful, terrible, wonderful fullness that was breaking him apart.

Kris came in a rush. His vision whitened. The sound he made was unholy. Every muscle clenched. The orgasm shook him to his core. Mr Leonard groaned and buried himself deeper. Even in his numbed state, Kris felt the twitch inside of him and heat spill, flooding his guts, filling him up. He sagged against the wall, drooping uselessly. He twitched every so often as the pleasure still fizzed through his system.

“Good girl, good girl, well done, beautiful,” Mr Leonard murmured. “You did so well for me, so well.”

Kris whimpered as he pulled out. He felt a moment of pain, then the cold and open stretch of his gaping hole. It felt a mile wide. He was sure he would never be the same again. Wet heat that could only be Mr Leonard’s seed began to spill out of him.

“Sssh, it’s alright.” Long, blunt fingers scooped the escaping cum up and pushed it back inside. “Everything’s alright.”

Kris moaned in distress as Mr Leonard’s fingers brushed that sweet spot inside of him. They massaged for a moment. Kris felt his balls tighten and the shadow of an orgasm, sickly sweet and painful, tore through him. His cock dribbled a few last drops. They ached to give.

“That’s it, little one. Surrender it all. You’ve done so well.”

Kris was dazed. He could barely form a coherent thought. At last, Mr Leonard’s fingers slipped free and the terrible biting weight of the sash window was lifted. Kris let himself be manhandled back into the room, collapsing in a heap on the floor. He couldn’t have run if he had tried. He seemed to have no control over his own limbs. There was a raw ache in every muscle, a faint burn deep inside of him, and yet a quiet like he’d never known, lonely yet sated, suffusing every muscle and rendering him limp and worthless.

“It’s okay, little one.” Mr Leonard cupped Kris’s chin in sticky fingers, tilting his head to look at him. “Don’t you feel better now?”

Kris’s eyes took a moment to focus, adjusting to the light. Mr Leonard looked flushed and a little dishevelled, but a thousand times more put together than Kris felt. The dark intensity of his gaze made Kris want to crawl into the night and drown himself. It was too much. How had this happened?

“Kristopher Talbot, I presume?” A smile quirked Mr Leonard’s lips.

Kris nodded dully. No sense denying it now. “How long…” His voice cracked. His mouth was dry. “How long have you known?”

“Oh, I have an eye for this sort of thing.” Mr Leonard released his head and Kris sagged, folding in on himself, trying to ignore the hideous sensation of cum still sliding out of his stretched and inflamed hole. “I knew the first time you were in my class. That you were a boy, at least. The rest didn’t take much deducing. You have the whole city out hunting for you. The bounty on your head is…impressive, to say the least.”

Kris closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall. What a ridiculous way for it all to end. All the running, all the hiding, and he was going to be arrested in a cum-soaked skirt with the memory of a cock buried deep inside of him so recent that he would swear he could still feel it. The humiliation felt as though it were a thousand miles away. He was tired. He was surrendering.

Kris did not resist as Mr Leonard raised the hem of his blouse. He ran his hands over the bruising on Kris’s waist, already turning purple and black. In a few places, the skin had broken and dried blood scabbed. A smugly satisfied smile crossed the teacher’s face.

“I take it this was your escape attempt. Poorly thought out, in my opinion.”

Kris did not answer him. Mr Leonard released his waist to take hold of his chin again, forcing them eye to eye.

“What did you think? That you could catch a train? A pretty thing like you running around these streets, alone, unprotected, in uniform, you’d never have made it to the station.”

Kris’s stomach twisted. “I’d have survived. I’m good at that.”

“Yes. It seems you are.” Mr Leonard stroked his cheek with his thumb, smearing it a little with Kris’s own cum. “I suppose you’re my responsibility now.”

“Please,” Kris begged. “Don’t call the police. Just let me out the window. I’ll never…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this.”

Mr Leonard had the audacity to laugh. “I bet you won’t. No, little one, I can’t send you off into the night like this. But I think you’ll find your ruse here has disappeared. The real Veronica arrives tomorrow.”

“What?” Adrenalin burned off some of Kris’s lethargy. “Nobody said –”

“Because that correspondence goes first to me,” Mr Leonard said smoothly, “and I chose not to share it with the rest of the staff. Letters are forever going missing, never reaching their true recipients. What a shame. What a scandal. Kristopher Talbot was in this school, posing as a student. Oh, those young gossips will never get over the thrill of it.”

Kris’s heart hammered in his chest. After all it had gone through that evening, he was surprised it didn’t give out completely.

“Then let me go,” he begged. “You don’t need the reward money. If I told them that you’d known all along about me –”

“No one would believe you,” Mr Leonard pointed out. “And I’ll admit, the reward money would be nice. But don’t you worry, little one. Didn’t I say I was going to take care of you? I have been looking for a housekeeper for some weeks now.”

“A…a housekeeper?”

“Certainly. My house is within school grounds, you know. A small thing, suitable for a bachelor, but I am entitled to keep a maid there.” Mr Leonard’s eyes held something Kris didn’t have words for, couldn’t have described. “A sweet little dress for you, a headscarf, you’d be so pretty, so demure. And when everyone knows the criminal has fled the scene, well, who would think to look for you here?”

Kris’s heart seemed to be in his throat. The threat of the city outside, of the police, of prison, of all the consequences crashing down on him was held at bay by one thing only and it was the man who had just defiled him, who had made him moan and beg like a whore, who had made him feel as much the helpless schoolgirl as he had been pretending to be. The man whose eyes were boring into his like they were trying to implant something in his brain.

“I’ve never kept a house before,” he said, as though that wasn’t the stupidest possible objection.

“I’m sure you’ll be a quick learner. You are, after all, such a good girl, so eager to please.”

Mr Leonard slid his hand into Kris’s hair and gripped. Kris did not resist as he was pulled forward. Mr Leonard kissed slowly, deeply, like he was taking something apart with his tongue. Kris fell open, pliant. He had no energy left to be anything else. He let Mr Leonard take everything he wanted from his mouth. He tasted himself on his tongue.

Mr Leonard pulled back with a nip at Kris’s already bite-swollen and bloodied lower lip. He smiled warmly, paternally, as though Kris were a rambunctious child in need of proper discipline.

“It will be nice to have such a lovely young thing about the place. If you’re good, if you do what you’re told and make things nice for me, I shall see to it that all your needs are met. In every capacity.”

Kris’s face burned. He wanted to run away. He wanted – insanely, dangerously – to fall into Mr Leonard’s arms and let all responsibility be taken away, let the world narrow to simple orders and the exquisite, terrible pleasure that that man’s mouth could bring. There was no way he could catch a train that night. He was out of places to run.

“Well, little one?” Mr Leonard’s eyes raked his bruised and broken form. “Do we have a deal?”

Kris unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “We have…we have a deal.”

“We have a deal, sir,” Mr Leonard corrected, and pulled him closer to kiss him again.