Very… brave of you, Mrs Lonsdale. Is that note for me?’‘What?’‘I recognised Mrs Dickinson’s handwriting. I was asking if that was somethin... Mrs Dickinson wanted you to give to me?’‘Um. I’m not sure. Maybe.’I held the note in my hand, thinking. Mrs Dickinson was giving me a choice. All I had to do was say no, and walk away.‘Mrs Lonsdale, can I have the note, please?’ Alex – Mrs Young - was getting impatient.What was it the Headmistress had said? She was going to let fate decide…?‘Mrs Lonsdale!. My cries and wails continued yet I never once begged him to stop. The big man only fucked harder and faster and soon his cockhead was pounding my prostate putting me in such pain that I though I would pass out. I saw stars and became dizzy. Suddenly I felt his hand on my still hard cock. He was rubbing it and milking it and it just didn't make any sense that it was so stimulated and suddenly reacting to his strong fingers. Incredulously my body was responding to this stimulation and I felt. Show me." Shocked and amazed at what he was suggesting, I tried to ignore the message. He persisted, sending message after message, "Show me – please."I was struggling to concentrate on my work. Thankfully Ms KC Rider had gone out for the afternoon to see the manager of another office, another bitter, middle-aged woman, whom the guys thought was K C's submissive lesbian lover. Thankfully this was only office gossip, because I couldn't cope with the thought of those her enjoying any form of. Who? When?” My voice cracked and faded to a half-whisper. “And why?” I met his eyes for the first time - I needed him to see the pain in them.He let out a long breath through his nose and rubbed his palms together. “It was a couple of weeks ago, at the fall student exhibition.”“In my gallery?”He nodded. “In the storage closet.”“With a student? One of mine?” He hesitated before nodding again. I stifled back the urge to sob. “Who was it?”“Charlotte, it really doesn’t matter who.”“It matters a.