Page 61 of The Prom

“It’s an occupational hazard, shall we say. Young, virile students are like a red flag to the teachers and the students are fascinated with an illicit tryst with their tutor.”

She laughs softly. “It was the same for Jenna Sloane, although she was fired because her indiscretions were beginning to shine the spotlight on the academy and we would all burn for her mistake.”

“All?”

She shrugs dismissively. “The members of my Friday night club are there for a reason, Drake.”

“What reason?”

“To pay for their mistakes.”

She pulls out another photograph of Imogen naked as I lick her pussy and she laughs. “I wouldn’t mind a go at her myself. She’s delightful.”

I feel sick as she says forcefully, “So, here is the deal. You continue your games with this young woman for all I care, but remember to be discreet. If I hear otherwise, your days here are numbered. And in return for my silence and generous nature–”

She crosses her legs, her skirt high above her knees as she says seductively, “You join our club where the grown-ups play similar games, although a tad more depraved, if you get my meaning.”

“How depraved?”

I’m starting to question whether I overlooked something obvious the entire time. We believed Jenna Sloane was Christian’s recruitment officer, but possibly it was someone much higher up than that.

“You will discover that in your initiation ceremony. I’m certain Sonia will understand. If she exists, that is.”

I’ve got to hand it to Angela Constable. I definitely underestimated her, and she laughs softly.

“Oh Drake, your expression is hilarious. It’s okay, I’m not one to judge others of what I am guilty of myself.”

“You?” I raise my eyes.

“Yes, Drake. What goes on behind these doors would probably shock you even though you’re a man of certain tastes yourself. It’s what transpires in my apartment during my Friday night club that would shock you more, so I’ll expect you on the dot and park your morals firmly outside the door. You won’t be needing them.”

As surprise attacks go, this one scored a direct hit and my mind races as I stare at the folder on her desk. I wonder how she got the evidence and say carefully, “I have one question, Principal Constable.”

“Go on.”

“Who took the photographs?”

She shrugs. “We all guard our secrets, Drake. My spies are mine and will not be compromised. You see, I run my academy with no stone left unturned. Take the students as an example.”

“What about them?”

She grins. “They think they’ve outsmarted the staff. Their little challenge they run every Friday night in the dungeons, for one.”

I remain impassive, but my mind is racing. Fuck, she knows.

The dungeons always were my particular favorite part of Rockwell. I enjoyed many exhilarating evenings there myself and understand its appeal. I must hand it to Frankie Majerio though, the centurion costume is a pure stroke of genius, and when they located the tunnels that run underneath the academy, it did alter my plans a little.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

I play dumb and she shrugs. “We’ll run with that if you like, but understand one thing, Drake–”

She fixes me with an almost maniacal grin.

“Sometimes I like to play dirty and if the students ever get in the way of what I want, I dispose of the problem because protecting Rockwell and its secrets is what I do. It’s what lies within its walls under the cover of darkness when this place really comes alive.”

She studies her chipped nail varnish.

“You know, Drake, that girl in the picture really is beautiful. She was a virgin too, if I’m not mistaken.”

---