This is a rewrite of an older story I wrote about three years ago. This is part one of a three part series that looks at the story from the point of view of each of the participants. Hope you enjoy.
It was only a small tattoo but I was going to get punished for it and I wasn't looking forward to it.
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 totally 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 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," he said.
I knew that he was looking at the small tattoo of a butterfly which I had in a moment of madness, after a dare, allowed a perverted tattooist to inflict it rather painfully on my person while out in town a couple of weekends back with two of my classmates, Eunice and Deirdre. That was after the swift consumption of several vodka shots.
"Yes, I did know that tattooing was classed as self abuse here at collage," I had admitted to Matron who found the small tattoo during an examination of a strained leg muscle that I had foolishly sustained during a hockey match. Such things as tattoos were frowned on at Claremont College, and they were not something that supposedly refined young ladies like me apparently did.
That's the story of how I found myself standing completely naked in front of the head of College. He got up from his chair and came around his desk. Now standing close to me, I could smell the stale smell of tobacco on his clothes. He asked me to bend over and turn my rear to the window. Then he leaned over me and examined the tattoo more closely. I flinched as I felt his finger run over the delicately painted butterfly.
"Is there 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, and then he said I could stand up as he returned to his seat.
"What are we going to do with you, young lady?" 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 my more intimate parts to him, 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 scrutiny examination I 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. Millibrand's leather arm chairs. He was wearing his usual pin striped business suit, his bowler hat perched on his silver topped head, cane resting between his knees.
"Good morning, Laura," he said as I walked in. "Rather bad form, this, especially when your mother's away, I was 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 collage, we have decided between us to deal with the matter another way, one which I think will have the desired effect on you and any other students who may think of following your example."
I stood there wondering just what the pair of them had come up with. I knew daddy was ex army and a strict disciplinarian. I had seen the way he had treated my brother 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 said suddenly.
I looked at daddy and he nodded curtly. I was slightly shocked, but I was not surprised. After last time, I had wondered how long it was going to be before the head wanted an excuse to get another look at my body. I looked at Mr. Millibrand, awaiting instructions.
"Just take your panties off, girl, and raise your skirt," he said.
I smiled to myself. I guess he wasn't going to take things too far this time. Maybe it was because daddy was here. 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 and turned my back on him. Then I bent forward and gingerly lifted up my short skirt. I stood there with my legs slightly parted and a cheeky smile on my face knowing that in this position I was revealing far more than any eighteen year old daughter should reveal to her father.
Daddy stood up and came closer. He seemed to take his time examining me, and I jumped as I felt him rub his fingers over the offending tattoo. "How could you disfigure yourself like this?" he exclaimed. Then I felt a sharp slap on my exposed bottom. "Get yourself dressed, girl."
I stood up, allowing my skirt to fall back in place before bending down to pick up and slip my feet into my discarded panties. At last fully clothed again, I stood looking at Mr. Millibrand, his fingers clasped together in front of his face. "In consultation with your father, we have decided on your punishment."