A Laura Grant Story
I could not believe that I was standing completely naked before Mr. Millibrand's large imposing desk. My clothes, which I had reluctantly removed a few moments earlier, were folded neatly on a chair at my side. I could see his dark eyes looking at me over the top of his small bifocal glasses, taking in the delights of my young exposed body. I saw the tip of his tongue lick hesitantly over his lips. Behind me the imposing figure of Matron was standing, her arms folded across her imposing chest.
"Where is the offending item, Matron?" Mr. Millibrand inquired.
"Turn around, Miss Grant," the Matron spoke with authority.
I slowly turned and exposed my trim rear for Mr. Millibrand's inspection.
"Ah, yes, I see it." I knew that he was looking at the small tattoo of a butterfly that I had in a moment of madness, while out in town a couple of weekends back with two of my classmates, Eunice and Deirdre, and after the swift consumption of a few vodka shots, allowed a tattoo artist to inflict rather painfully on my person.
"Yes, I did know that tattooing was classed as self abuse," I admitted to Matron who found the small tattoo during an examination of a strained leg muscle I had sustained during a hockey match. Such things as tattoos were frowned on at Claremont College and not something that refined young ladies like me apparently did.
That's how I found myself naked in front of the head of College. He got up from his chair and came around his desk. Now close to me, I could smell the tobacco on his clothes. He asked me to bend over and turn my rear to the window. He leaned over me and examined the tattoo more closely. I flinched as I felt his finger run over the delicately painted butterfly.
"There's no way of removing it?" he inquired, looking at the Matron.
She shook her head. "It can be done, but it's a very painful procedure, and it can leave a scar."
He slowly shook his head, then said I could stand up as he returned to his seat.
"What are we going to do with you?" he asked. "You knew tattooing was against College rules, but you went ahead and let someone abuse you in that way." I let my head droop, looking at my feet. It was bad enough being naked in Mr. Millibrand's presence, but to be treated like a naughty school girl was awful.
"I am afraid we are going to have to make an example of you. If I let you get away with it, there is no saying where it will all end, and of course I am going to have to inform your parents." Suddenly, I was really upset at the thought of daddy being informed of my misdemeanor.
"You may put your clothes back on now and go to your room; all privileges are suspended until the matter is settled." I slowly slipped back into my clothes conscious that he was watching my every move. I tried not to expose myself too much, but with him being so close, it was difficult not to as I eased my feet into my regulation white cotton panties.
Back in my room, I was quickly visited by Eunice and Deirdre who wanted to know how I had gone on. "The dirty old beast," exclaimed Deirdre when I told them about the close examination I had had to endure.
It was three days later that I was again called to Mr. Millibrand's office. This time I was shocked to see daddy there. He looked grave as he sat in one of Mr. Millibrands leather arm chairs. He was wearing his usual pin striped business suit, his bowler hat resting on his knee.
"Good morning, Laura," he said as I walked in. "Rather bad form this, especially when your mother's away, dragged all the way up here from the city just because you can't behave yourself."
Mr. Millibrand looked at me. "I've filled your father in on the details, and he has agreed with me that an example must be made of you to show the other students that we will not tolerate behavior like this in Claremont College." He looked at me sternly. "I could have expelled you, but as a favor to your father who has been a very good and generous benefactor to the school we have decided to deal with the matter another way, one which I think will have the desired effect on any other students thinking of following your example."
I stood there wondering just what the pair of them had come up with. I knew daddy was a strict disciplinarian. I had seen the way he had treated my brothers when I was at home, and it was only down to the timely intervention of mummy that I myself had never felt his hand or belt on me.
"I think your father would like to see the offending item," Mr. Millibrand suddenly said. I looked at daddy and he nodded curtly. I was shocked. Was I again going to have to suffer the indignities of undressing, and this time not only in front of Mr. Millibrand, but also my father as well?
I looked at Mr. Millibrand, awaiting instructions. "Just take your panties off, girl, and raise your skirt," he said. With some concern, I reached under my skirt and began to ease down my panties. Once clear of my hips, they dropped to the floor, and I stepped out of them. I moved back in front of daddy, bent forward, and gingerly lifted my short skirt. I stood there with my legs slightly parted knowing that in this position I was revealing far more than an eighteen year old daughter should reveal to her father.