A Strict School (Birchbane Institute #1) Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Birchbane Institute Series by Loki Renard
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
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Ronald flashes a broad and probably ordinarily winning smile. It has no effect on Jane whatsoever. There is something faintly predatory about this man, though for the most part he simply seems like someone who has always gotten what he wanted and sees no reason why having a younger girlfriend and plying her with off-label prescription drugs should be a problem.

“You’re too pretty to be a jailer,” he says. “And this is too nice a place to be a prison.”

“Come speak with me,” Jane says, gesturing down the hall to her office.

Ronald hesitates a brief moment before following her.

She leads him into her office and moves to stand by her desk. She sees his eyes roam casually around the room before settling on a series of canes soaking in a stand. A brief but visible shudder passes through him, indicating a certain familiarity. Jane notes this with some satisfaction.

Ronald looks for a chair in which to sit. He finds none. He will stand in front of the desk, like every other badly behaved young person who finds themselves in Jane’s office for discipline.

“You are contributing to delinquency,” she says, opening the discussion in an icy tone as she closes the door and slowly walks back to stand behind her desk.

“I am?” Ronald smiles at that notion. He does not realize he is in trouble as yet. He still has the smooth, slick air of a man who thinks he owns the world. “And how do you imagine I am doing that?”

“Kiera is young, impressionable, and at this point, a ward of this school. Her parents have placed her here to learn.”

“Her parents have placed her here because it dries her out between benders,” Ronald guffaws. “They don’t like her making a scene. Brings the Marlin name into disrepute, don’t you know?”

“And you have come to…”

“To give her what she wants.”

“That includes cars,” Jane says. “And drugs to drive them on.”

“Steady on,” Ronald says. “I never told her to drive high.”

“I’m sure you never told her many things. I’m sure you simply provided the set and setting and let her get herself into trouble.” Jane’s gaze is hard and stern. She is not impressed with this young man, and she has absolutely no intention of letting him leave either with Kiera, or the ability to sit comfortably.

One element is working in her favor. Men like Ronald have grown up accustomed to stern women laying down the law. In their nurseries and in the care of their nannies, they learned it is best to behave when such a figure tells them to. It is a lesson Ronald has not retained terribly well, but it is snaking its way up through his conscience and memory now.

The carefree rake who intended to use his familial wealth to yet again bed an addled younger woman begins to shrink before Jane, invisible layers of his persona steadily stripped away in the force of her glare until he no longer holds himself like he owns the place, and instead stands before her with the unmistakeable flush and uncertain gaze of a naughty schoolboy.

“I didn’t think she’d drive high,” he says, sounding very guilty.

It hasn’t occurred to him that he does not answer to Jane, that he is a grown adult man free to do as he pleases. He has forgotten all of that as he finds himself caught in the force of Jane’s natural dominance.

“I am going to give you what Kiera took today as a result of your influence,” Jane says. “Twelve strokes of the cane.”

“Twelve!?”

With that question, he has already accepted his fate. In questioning the number, rather than the event itself, he has submitted. That makes Jane smile inwardly, though on the surface she remains unyielding and unimpressed.

“Yes. She took twelve. She would have taken more, thanks to her sorry state, had I not realized it. She will face further punishment when she is better, and perhaps so will you. Now. Lower your trousers and your underwear and bend over the desk.”

“But…”

There is a brief moment in which Jane thinks he might rebel and remember that he can do as he pleases, but it passes before he seems to be aware of it. He is already worried about the predicament he finds himself in.

“Now, please, young man,” Jane says, speaking with natural authority.

He obeys with something of an astonished, yet ashamed expression on his face. His hands go to his waist, unbuttoning his pants.

Just before he pushes them down along with his boxers, another moment of hesitation where the realities of the outside world threaten to intrude rises… and then is passed over.

He is naked for a moment, the member that men are so very proud of and display so often with great pride hanging shamefully before he takes a step forward and bends over the desk, his muscular bottom making a very different view given the softer, more shapely curves Jane has been punishing of late. He is much larger than any school girl, but he still fits comfortably on Jane’s desk, and her cane, drawn from the soaking stand, will teach him just as good a lesson.


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