The Principal's Daughter
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Authors: Zak Hardacre
The Principal's Daughter
By
Zak Hardacre
Text Copyright 2016
Zak Hardacre
Zak Hardacre has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the books publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding, or cover, other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cover provided by
Linzi Basset
Table of Contents
It is a universally accepted theory that once an adrenaline junkie, always an adrenaline junkie. It had been two years since Richard Hunter left the military for a career in the IT sector, and although he had enjoyed his new vocation, he grew to miss the camaraderie and excitement of his former military life. He needed a new outlet to feed his passion for danger. That need had led him to the gates of the Ajax Risk Management property on the outskirts of Rugby, in the Midlands of the UK.
The company provided training in a hostile environment, close protection, and executive protection. He would be spending the next five weeks at their facility and, if he successfully completed the program, he would leave as a fully certified close protection officer qualified to provide security for clients not just in the UK but also in any hostile area of the world.
As he navigated the winding drive towards the main house, the overgrown trees on each side of the lane reminded him of boulevards found in many places he’d visited in France, their poplar trees lining the sides of the roads like quietly watching sentinels.
Leaving the cover of the foliage, the road led to a large gravelled parking area in front of a grand old mansion. Richard pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. He peered up at the house through the windshield of his car. The main house was well-kept and stately in its appearance and its lawns and gardens were groomed and lush. The entire property was like something out of the
Brideshead Revisited
television series.
It was obvious the company was doing well judging by the state of their property.
Richard climbed out of his car and stretched his limbs. The drive had taken a long four hours, and his muscles were unused to spending that length of time in one position. His jeans were creased and his formerly crisp white dress shirt had taken a beating at the hands of the seatbelt. Good thing the dress code set out in the instruction packet he’d received a week before allowed for the casual dress because he certainly fit that ticket today.
The instruction packet had also contained a map of the property setting out where the course living accommodations were located, and where he was to report. He dug his suitcase and sports bag out of the boot and grabbed one of the two suits he had brought with him and headed off toward the rear of the house.
As he rounded the corner at the back of the house, he stepped onto a large patio and stopped to take in the breath-taking view. A wide stone staircase off the back side of the patio led down into a vast expanse of gardens where flowers and shrubbery of riotous colour and hue covered the landscape as far as the eye could see.
Another building opposite the main house and to the right was Richard’s ultimate destination. Centred in the middle of its front door was a plaque engraved with the words “Dingle Cottage”. It was here that Richard would be housed during the course of his training.
As he approached he took a deep breath, and pulling down the handle on the door it swung open silently and he stepped inside the dimly lit reception room. In the corner sat a guy who was looking through some papers. On hearing Richard enter the room he immediately stood up.
Richard could tell by his physique that he obviously kept himself in good physical condition. His face was angular and was a veritable network of scars. One, in particular, stood out from the rest, it started from the top of his hairline extending down to his chin. He had a tough yet friendly manner about him, and as he extended his hand to greet Richard he took it and felt the steely grip of this amiable bloke.
"All right buddy I'm John and I'm the Chief Instructor here at Ajax" he began the introductions.
His smile was warm, welcoming, and somewhat unexpected from his granite-like exterior and Richards's first impressions.
"I'm Richard, buddy" he replied.
John picked up the sheet he had been studying and looked for Richard's name on it. There were only sixteen of them registered for the course so it didn't take long for him to find it.
"Yeah got you right here. You're in room two with Mike. He arrived about an hour ago. It's just down there" He pointed to a short corridor which was shrouded in darkness, but Richard could see a white door at the end of it.
John went on to go through the daily routine and the layout of the house, things like the location of the dining room and washing facilities, and tried to answer any questions Richard might have. He gave him a timetable for the next week and told him that breakfast would start at 7 o'clock and finish at 8 o'clock. The day began at 08:15 am on most days depending what the training was for that particular day.
He was just about finished, but they were disturbed by the sound of the door being opened again. Richard was not expecting the figure that stood there before them. She was around five foot ten inches in her high heels. A tightly fitting pencil skirt hugged her thighs and hips. The white blouse she was wearing seemed to be trying to burst through the smart navy blue jacket that covered it. As she placed down her luggage and stood up, Richard's eyes were drawn to her cleavage, which was heaving under her breathing. She was almost Amazonian, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and covering her ample breasts. Richard felt himself stir as he stood transfixed staring at this vision of beauty. The blood pumping around his cock caused it to force itself against his tight fitting jeans.
The stranger caught Richards's amorous glances, and she provocatively licked her lips. She began to study him closely, his broad shoulders tapered down to a tight waist. The white shirt he was wearing was tucked into his faded smart jeans. It hung loosely at the front and back, indicating to her that there was not an inch of fat on him. The thought of his washboard stomach and well-defined 'six pack' hidden beneath, filled her pussy with warmth. Eyes now travelling down from his belt they lingered on his groin and the shape of his manhood visibly enlarged and she swore she saw it twitch under her gaze. Licking her lips again she admired the firm thighs that filled the legs of his jeans, and her own legs began to go weak as the juices in her snatch began to flow freely. If all the guys were like this one on the course she was in for one hell of a time.
Richard saw that she was checking him out and blushed at her attentions. His hand moved to his groin in a futile attempt to cover his raging hard on. It was too late by that point and he knew it. Yet there was no look of shock on her face, but one of pleasure and mutual admiration.
This is going to be one awesome fecking course
, he thought to himself. He thanked John for his help and went to retrieve his suitcase that he had put down in the entrance where the vivacious stranger now stood.
"Can I just get that?" he said directing his question at the Amazonian.
"You sure you can lift it, looks heavy to me" she replied teasing him but was sure that from his masculine form he wouldn't have any problem at all.
I bet he could lift me up and fuck me senseless without breaking sweat
she mused. She positioned herself so that Richard would have to come into close proximity to her.
As he grabbed his suitcase his thigh brushed against hers, and he felt a quiver of delight run through him. It was not soft as he had expected, but firm with a firmness that comes with a daily routine of exercise. He stood up erect and stared into her eyes that were like the colour of jade. A knowing smiled crossed her lips, and a spark ignited between them. The spell was broken by John, who called from behind them.
"Hi there. You must be Tori. Welcome to the Ajax training Academy."
Richard picked up his bags and headed off down the corridor. As he did, he looked over his shoulder, and he could have sworn the sexy siren Tori was checking his ass out. He smiled to himself as he turned the handle of the door marked with a brass number two. The door swung inwards and Richard entered, looking to his right as he did so. His view was obstructed by a wardrobe door that was open, then suddenly a face appeared from behind it. The guy was dark haired and seemed in his late twenties, as he closed the door of the locker Richard saw that he was dressed in running kit. He looked to be in great physical shape, with well-toned arms and quadriceps in his thighs that would be able to crush walnuts between them.
Closing the locker door his roommate stepped towards him with his hand extended in greeting. Richard took it and felt the vise-like grip of the younger man.
"I'm Mike, buddy. Pleased to meet you" he introduced himself.
"Richard "mate" and the same to you," Richard said in return.
For the next hour, the two of them chatted, getting to know each other. It turned out that Mike was a sergeant in the infantry and was only twenty-six years old. This was very unheard of for someone who has reached that rank in the British Army at so young an age.
He must be very good at his job
, Richard thought to himself. He had been thirty when he had reached the same point. It seemed strange for a guy that was obviously going places to be on a course like this, so Richard asked Mike his reason for doing it.
"Well "mate" it's like this I have a young family and I want to secure their future, this is the best way of doing it."
Richard nodded, seeing Mike's unselfish reasons and motivations. Work in the Close Protection industry was financially lucrative, especially when working overseas in hostile environments. Operators were paid anywhere between 90 to 110 thousand for only nine months' work. This came at a trade-off, though. It meant the agent had no breaks during duty time. It varied from contract to contract, but no matter the rotation time, blokes were separated from their families for this period.
The two of them set out to talk about their families and show each other pictures from their phones. Richard had been married for twenty years but had divorced not long after leaving the army. He had two kids and he still kept in regular contact with them. But now he was a free agent he took every opportunity to make the most of that. It was at that point that his thoughts went back to the sexy Tori who he had just met in the reception area. He moved uncomfortably on his bed as he tried to rearrange his 'purple headed soldier' which was now engorged with blood and weeping in anticipation.
"You look in pain there mate" Mike commented noticing Richards predicament.
"Did you know there's a female on the course?" Richard asked trying to change the subject.
"Yeah I noticed her name on the course joining instructions, never paid it any attention, though. I'm happily married and would never do the dirty on her" Mike replied confirming that his relationship with his wife was built on a strong foundation.
Richard just smiled and thought to himself that was one less bit of competition he would have to contend with. His mind began to wander trying to formulate a plan of how he could get into the Amazonian's panties. The answer would come sooner than he expected.