Accountability 1

*All characters in this story are over 18, and it is entirely a work of fiction. It is dedicated to the real HeadMaster, who inspired this story, and is always in my corner.*

My first semester at college was one big, glorious, non-stop party. No high school teachers nagging me, no curfew that anyone really cared about. My grades were not good, but did it really make any difference? My father was a huge donor of the school, and I knew I didn't have anything to worry about. He pressured my high school principal into giving me a diploma, and he'd take care of any messes I got into here, too. Ah, the wonderful things that money can buy...

Freshman English was the worst, though. It was at 8 am, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get out of it. Even worse, the instructor, Mrs. Richards, took attendance. Most of my other professors didn't care who showed up. This was college, and they were happy to let us sink or swim. Not this troll, though, and it really cramped my social life. At least I had a friend in the class, Emily, and we sat in the back and talked about whatever we wanted to, while Old Lady Richards droned on about writing essays.

Emily was dating a sophomore on the football team, and we were talking about their latest petting session. I guess we were giggling too loudly, because the dragon suddenly called my name out loud.

"Yes?" I said, as rudely as I dared.

Maybe she didn't know who my father was. She'd soon find out.

"Headmaster's office, right now, young lady. He's expecting you."

I winked at Emily, grabbed my books and left the lecture hall. Headmaster Davidson was an imposing figure, what little I had seen of him, but even he would be powerless to do anything to the daughter of an influential booster like my father. I was actually kind of happy to have a free pass from my least favorite class, so I was smiling when I got to his office.

Headmaster Davidson's secretary seemed to be expecting me, because as soon as I approached her desk she gave me a knowing smirk.

"Go right in, Miss Young. He's expecting you."

I gave her my best condescending smile, certain her attitude would change once she realized who I was. Maybe I'd even have my father get her fired. Turning the handle, I registered briefly how very heavy the door was. I knew enough about architecture to know that this was a solid core door, not the lightweight ones most school offices had. It probably just meant that the school had too much money to blow. I closed the door behind me and looked around nonchalantly. Best to establish right up front that I wasn't intimidated.

Headmaster's desk was a massive affair, probably oak, and stained a dark color. The room was dimly lit, with stuffy pictures on the walls. Reminded me a bit of my father's study, even down to the thick rugs on the floors. I dropped my backpack in a chair by the door, and raised my eyebrows at Headmaster. He was seated behind the desk, watching my every move.

We both waited for each other to speak, but I guess I blinked first. His impassive stare was a little nerve wracking.

"You wanted to see me?"

I deliberately left off any honorific. He might be the most important person at the school, but I was probably the richest one. Let the poorer girls be polite.

"Miss Young, it is customary to present oneself at my desk when called to my office."

His tone was mild, but something about the manner of his delivery made me wander up to his desk. No need to get him flustered right away. I rested my fingertips on the edge of his desk, determined not to say another word until he did. Best to establish the hierarchy now.

"Mrs. Richards tells me that you were talking in her class, again."

I just smiled. Lots of people talked in class. Surely he had something better than that.

"I'm also looking at your GPA, and it's abysmal. Do you understand that you will be on academic probation by the end of the semester, young lady?"

I probably should have held my tongue, but this guy was really getting on my nerves. I was a bit hung over from the frat party I'd attended the night before, and really done with this whole conversation.

"Do you understand who my father is, and how much he gives to your employer?"

Headmaster's lips pressed together, and his eyes narrowed. I sensed that I had gone too far, and I took a step back from the desk.

"STOP WHERE YOU ARE, YOUNG LADY!"

His voice was as sharp as a knife, and I shivered in spite of myself.

"Hands on the desk, right now."

I stepped back up to the desk, placing my hands on his desk casually, trying to decide how to proceed. Maybe best to give a little, but I felt a desperate need to regain control here.

"Nose down on the desk, young lady!"

"But Sir, my father..."

Headmaster cut me off mid-sentence.

"You will address me as 'Headmaster', and your father and I are old friends."

Now my blood turned to ice water in my veins. I did as he said, and put my face to his desk. My skirt, shorter than regulation, hiked up dangerously in the back and I felt a cool breeze on my thighs.

Headmaster rose from his seat and walked around behind me. His office was large, and I couldn't track his progress without moving my face, but I didn't dare risk it. I heard a cabinet door being opened and closed, and then felt him behind me again. Something cool stroked the back of my upper thighs, and then a heavy cane was slammed down on the desk, inches from my face.

"Would you like to guess what your father and I talked about last night at the club? His very spoiled daughter. I showed him your grades, and told him how rude you've been to Mrs. Richards. I also told him the rumors going around campus about your promiscuity. He has decided to give you two choices. One, you can drop out of school and find a job. He will no longer support your laziness. Two, you can stay here and work hard on bringing your grades up, and accept any punishment I deem appropriate. Which one of those options will it be, Miss Young?"

Headmaster's words echoed in my ears. Surely I would wake up from this nightmare any minute. My father wouldn't really say that, would he? I was glad my head was down, and this horrible man couldn't see the tears clouding my vision. I didn't have to ask myself again if it was true. I'd seen firsthand how ruthless my father could be, but it had always been with others. If I had truly exhausted his patience, there was no other option for me. I took a deep breath, willing my voice to be steady and not betray my despair.

"Two, Sir."

Headmaster snatched the cane up from the desk and white hot pain slashed across my bottom. I gasped and tried to stand, but he pushed me down, hard.

"You have been told how to address me, young lady. Every time you get it wrong, you will be caned. Completely apart from any other transgression. Are we perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Headmaster" I managed shakily, waves of pain cascading through my flesh.

I felt my skirt being flipped up over my back and the hem rolled over the waistband, and my panties were yanked down to my knees.

"First I will address your blatant lack of respect for my authority at this school, and then Mrs. Richards will come in to discuss the rest of your deplorable behavior. Ordinarily I require young ladies to count, but in your case the caning will stop when I decide it's enough. Your input is not needed in this office."

Headmaster's hand came down firmly on the small of my back, and he proceeded to rain blows on my bare bottom so fast that I could barely register the pain from one before another landed. His skill was such that no two lashes were in the same place, and he made sure that my thighs were not spared. I writhed as much as I could under his iron grip, but it made no difference. The pain was searing, and finally I lost the will to even struggle. I lay still across his desk and sobbed as he continued to cane me. My skin felt as if it had burst into flames, and life as I had known it was officially over.

I don't know how long my first caning lasted. It seemed like an eternity. In my entire life I had never even been threatened with a spanking. It hurt worse than anything that I'd ever experienced, and by the time it finally ended, my legs were shaking and Headmaster's desk was slimy with my tears and snot. Worst of all was the realization that my pussy was wet. Wetter than I'd ever been, with all the boys I'd fucked that first semester. I squeezed my thighs together tightly, praying he wouldn't see. I guess I should have known better.

"Well, Miss Young, I see that your depravity knows no bounds. It appears that your cunt is quite wet from the caning. I'm glad that I summoned Mrs. Richards, because she needs to see that the talk around campus is true. You must be nothing more than a slut to get this wet from a hard caning. Spread your legs wide for Mrs. Richard's inspection."

I clenched my thigh muscles even more tightly, damned if I would let that old crone see my shame.

WHACK!

The cane cut across my thighs so hard that I screamed, and wondered if Headmaster had drawn blood. My sobs began anew, but I spread my legs as instructed.

"Well, now, Headmaster. What have we here?"

I'd hated Mrs. Richards since the first time I saw her. Her class was beyond boring, she was nothing but an old buzz kill, and I'd taken great pains to let her know that I didn't need her stupid class to graduate. My father was my ace in the hole. At least he had been. Now I felt soft hands grabbing the raw flesh of my bottom and spreading me open even further. I tried to stand, but was pushed back down again roughly, presumably by Headmaster.

"We always knew that she was easy, Sir. I guess this proves it. What should we do with her now? Is there any remedy, other than expelling her?"

I couldn't imagine much worse than the situation I was in now, but I'd always had money. How on earth would I survive with none, and no education either? I lay on the desk, helpless and spent. My cunt was swollen and my ass and thighs were throbbing, I listened to them chat about me like I wasn't even there, and I wondered if I'd ever been this humiliated in my entire life.

"Her father wants us to take her in hand. He's given me carte blanche with the impudent little slut. I will schedule regular canings here in my office, as I have no doubt she'll earn them. I think she also needs your expert tutelage on a day to day basis, Mrs. Richards. How do you suggest we begin?"

"Hmmm...I think probably the first lesson she needs is humility, Headmaster. Would you agree?"

"Absolutely right, and well done, Mrs. Richards! How do you suggest we start?"

"Pull her up by her hair, and make her kneel, Headmaster."

The words were no sooner out of the bitch's mouth before I was hauled up by my hair. I tried to pull up my panties and regain some of my dignity, but the cane slashed across my bottom again. Headmaster yanked me back, a few feet away from the desk, and then pushed me to the floor.

"Face Mrs. Richards, and pay attention to everything she says."

Headmaster's office had a few area rugs, but he'd made sure to push me to my knees on the bare hardwood floor. I met Mrs. Richards' eyes, determined not to let her see my fear. Her next words extinguished that hope.

"Since you are determined to be a failure here, and a complete whore as well, I will teach you to be good at it. Crawl to me, lift my skirt, and show me what you know about pleasing a woman."

I was speechless, just staring at her. Surely this was all some sort of sick joke? My father would never condone this. I looked around for Headmaster, and half rose from my knees. He was standing behind me with a camera, and beaming from ear to ear.

"What, don't want to cooperate anymore? Too bad, because I have a lovely picture of you kneeling at Mrs. Richards' feet, caned ass perfectly in focus. I was exaggerating a bit about having a deal with your father, but now I really do have you where I want you. When you see the picture, you'll realize that I took it at a bit of an angle, just enough for everyone to recognize that it's High and Mighty Barbara Young. When we leak the picture so that the entire school sees it, you'll be a laughing stock. Then your father really will be done with you."

I sank to my knees again, no longer able to stand. I stared at him, shocked to my very core. In his eyes I saw no trace of humor, no mercy, and a cold determination to put me in my place. A place I'd never been in my entire life. I tried to think of a way out, but there was nothing. I knew they'd find a way to circulate the photo, and I'd never live it down. My father's partners would find out, and he'd be a laughing stock as well. I sat back on my heels and began to cry, yet again.

"Well, Miss Young? I'm waiting."

Mrs. Richards face spread into the cruelest smile I'd ever seen, and she leaned back against the desk. She was wearing a silk blouse, pencil skirt, heels and hose, and I wondered briefly what had happened to the dowdy clothing she usually wore in class. As I watched, she slowly eased the skirt up over her hips and spread her legs lasciviously. She had on a garter belt, but no panties. She snapped her fingers, and I crawled across the hard floor to begin my new life...