Dear Principal

Chapter 4

Haden's POV

This boy was something I'd never seen before.

Oliver Stone is a straight-A honor student with no criminal background but a drunk father and a narcissistic mother. He moved out of his parent's house at 17 and has been living alone. His chestnut locks and light blue eyes fit his complexion like a model, and I wondered why he didn't have a girlfriend. Oliver's legs have always been thicker than most boys his age, soft and firm. 

His lips were plump and kissable.

When I found him snooping on my website, my curiosity bubbled. I've been searching for a sub to fit my needs for a while now and never could find one as suitable as Oliver. When I first laid eyes on him at the student council meeting, my one thought was to grab him and bend him over any table. But I'm a grown man, and seeing to doing those things with an 18-year-old isn't proper in most adults' eyes. I knew Oliver was thinking the same, though. Once I caught his attention, his cheeks pinkened, and his legs pressed together underneath the table.

When I put my initial video on my website, a bubble appeared, and the name Sour Olive popped up. I had no doubt it was Oliver. He could have been more conspicuous, but he's young and naive.

I always wondered why I started my website. It was an excellent opportunity to find a sub, but the people who would comment or like my content were old men and women who wanted the same as I did. I am not submissive. I made that clear to them with the following publishes I had made.

My first sub was a petite flower girl who worked for a garden in La France cafe. She was cute and friendly, but she wasn't into the punishments as much as Oliver was.

Oliver begged to be bent over and punished. His ass screamed for it when I caught him on his sofa. I didn't expect to pull off his jogging pants to reveal he wasn't wearing any underwear, but I enjoyed that. I adored that he would be accessible to mold and put on a pedestal—an easy catch with a hint of feist.

When I left, he sat cross-legged on the couch and pouted at me like a child. I wanted to turn around and fuck him, but it was too soon. I want him to beg for me, to scream my name when he can't take it anymore, and I knew Oliver would be perfect for when the time came.

A sigh left me as I leaned back in my chair and stared at my ceiling. Monday came by quickly with the fun I had yesterday. If it weren't for my brother being sick and having me take over his place, I wouldn't be here right now. Sick is an exaggerated term for a three-year vacation provided by my father. My brother had pleaded with him to go to Dubai with his wife and kids, and my father didn't have a choice.

So here I was, carrying a high school of one-thousand and three-hundred and fifty kids in my hands for my big brother, who couldn't care less about my priorities.

"Mr. Clyde."

It wasn't fair, but I couldn't say no. After all, my brother did a lot for me when I was young.

"Mr. Clyde."

"Yes, Daisy." I straightened my posture, looking over to my assistant with her hands full of papers.

I was irritated from not seeing Oliver all day and didn't need to be poked and prodded by this promiscuous woman. I only wanted Oliver, a cold glass of whiskey, and sex.

"Our reports came in for Oliver's detention, and you didn't sign approval on them. I wanted to know if everything's settled with the boy." Oh, right. Oliver was researching naughty things on a school computer.

I laughed and played with my ring, staring at Daisy, who stood uncomfortably in the doorway, "yes, Daisy. Everything is well with Mr. Stone. I spoke with him on Friday, remember?" Her cheeks pinkened, and she nodded, pushing her purple glasses up, "would you do me a favor and make me a cup of coffee? It would be nice to have one before the day ends."