Tag Archives: Historical

The Headmaster’s Fall (Regency Historical Couples’ Fantasy)

On my distinction, I do solemnly swear that no innocents, underage women, or Regency rakes were harmed in the making of this tale.

Best regards,
Laurel Bennett

PS. This is a very small erotic tale. Not a satiated length fresh. Desire you take pleasure in it!

A virgin, a rake, Regency England… pleasure.

Our heroine finds herself in distress and sent to the headmaster’s quarters. Punish her or pleasure her? It’s his choice to choose.

Excerpt:
“She is a disgrace to the school, my lord,” she chirped. She didn’t flush wait for his lordship to speak. She solely started her diatribe. Save for he held up a hand to cut her off.
He was a man of means. And he didn’t hesitate to spectacle it. His waistcoat and jacket were of the finest quality, and I wanted very much to run my hands finished the fabric. The jacket hugged his broad shoulders, and I found for myself jealous. How ridiculous. Jealous that his jacket got such intimacy? His flaxen hair was slightly finished-long. It brushed the top of his neckcloth and a tress of hair fell across his forehead.
“Save for sir,” Fail to attend Houghton started. He held up his hand again, and she pursed her lips, as though making a dam to hold back the words.
“You could go,” he clipped made known. Then he dropped into a chair behind his desk. He looked a bit… weary.
I turned toward the door, my sensitivity hurting a modest at the thought of not having my talking-to.
“Not you, Fail to attend Winters.” He keen his quill at Fail to attend Houghton. “You.”
“Save for my lord, I need to tell you what she has through. It’s inappropriate. She influences all the other girls. And if she’d not debarred, she’ll ruin them all.”
He raised his eyebrows at her as he repeated, “You. Could. Go.”
She huffed for a moment, which reminded me of a peacock I’d once seen as he darted about the yard including a bug. “Wait.” He understood. She turned back including glee. He held made known his hand. “I’ll have the birch stick.” She positioned it in his hand including a disappointed sound. Then quit the room.
I turned to him slowly, not practically guaranteed how to take up him.
“Close the door,” he barked.
Close the door? If there was lone thing I was certain of, a lady should never close a door and be alone including a man.
He lowered his head and cupped his forehead in his palm for a moment, massaging gently. “Close the blasted door, Fail to attend Winters,” he barked again as he righted himself. He ran a hand through his hair, a characteristic of frustration. He sighed solidly.
I scurried to close the blasted door and approached him on legs that shook.
He keen to the chair across starting his desk. “Sit, Fail to attend Winters.”
On my distinction, I do solemnly swear that no innocents, underage women, or Regency rakes were harmed in the making of this tale.

Best regards,
Laurel Bennett

PS. This is a very small erotic tale. Not a satiated length fresh. Desire you take pleasure in it!

A virgin, a rake, Regency England… pleasure.

Our heroine finds herself in distress and sent to the headmaster’s quarters. Punish her or pleasure her? It’s his choice to choose.

Excerpt:
“She is a disgrace to the school, my lord,” she chirped. She didn’t flush wait for his lordship to speak. She solely started her diatribe. Save for he held up a hand to cut her off.
He was a man of means. And he didn’t hesitate to spectacle it. His waistcoat and jacket were of the finest quality, and I wanted very much to run my hands finished the fabric. The jacket hugged his broad shoulders, and I found for myself jealous. How ridiculous. Jealous that his jacket got such intimacy? His flaxen hair was slightly finished-long. It brushed the top of his neckcloth and a tress of hair fell across his forehead.
“Save for sir,” Fail to attend Houghton started. He held up his hand again, and she pursed her lips, as though making a dam to hold back the words.
“You could go,” he clipped made known. Then he dropped into a chair behind his desk. He looked a bit… weary.
I turned toward the door, my sensitivity hurting a modest at the thought of not having my talking-to.
“Not you, Fail to attend Winters.” He keen his quill at Fail to attend Houghton. “You.”
“Save for my lord, I need to tell you what she has through. It’s inappropriate. She influences all the other girls. And if she’d not debarred, she’ll ruin them all.”
He raised his eyebrows at her as he repeated, “You. Could. Go.”
She huffed for a moment, which reminded me of a peacock I’d once seen as he darted about the yard including a bug. “Wait.” He understood. She turned back including glee. He held made known his hand. “I’ll have the birch stick.” She positioned it in his hand including a disappointed sound. Then quit the room.
I turned to him slowly, not practically guaranteed how to take up him.
“Close the door,” he barked.
Close the door? If there was lone thing I was certain of, a lady should never close a door and be alone including a man.
He lowered his head and cupped his forehead in his palm for a moment, massaging gently. “Close the blasted door, Fail to attend Winters,” he barked again as he righted himself. He ran a hand through his hair, a characteristic of frustration. He sighed solidly.
I scurried to close the blasted door and approached him on legs that shook.
He keen to the chair across starting his desk. “Sit, Fail to attend Winters.”

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