Finishing School

“I look ridiculous…” my voice curling around the half-closed door of the bathroom.

“Did you follow the instructions?” The strong voice echoed back, a curious amusement in that tone.

“Yes… but I’m 19, not 14…”

“Then come out here…” his voice becoming more firm. The phrase wasn’t a request. I reluctantly step out of the bathroom. Looking across the expanse of the bedroom of my little apartment. Blushing a bit as I see him lean forward in his chair. His eyes fixed on my body, a sly grin widening on his face. My instinct was to turn and disappear back into the bathroom, but that’s not why I was here. He rose to his feet, walking across toward me, I couldn’t help but sway side to side… his gaze even more intense the closer he got.

“Stand up straight girl… time to inspect your work.” the voice was deeper, if the last phrase was a firm suggestion, then this was a command. I could feel his eyes wandering up and down, carefully inspecting my look. Lifting my head straight, staring out across the room, focusing somewhere beyond the wall.

I could feel the gaze like a touch on my skin… his eyes wandering down from my face, down my neck to my exposed cleavage. My full breasts were barely covered in a thin white blouse, held by just two buttons… gaping open above, and tied in a knot below. A lacy black bra showing out over the curve of my full mounds… hinting straight through the soft top, but on full display closer to the valley between my breasts.

His eyes wandered down my bare belly, the little silver chain wrapped delicately around my body, arching up to my belly button. A small green jewel dangling down. “Real or no?” he asked.

“It’s the clip-on…” I answer, knowing he’s referencing the anchor of the belly chain. The little magnet held on tight, keeping the jewel in place.

“We will need to get you into the shop to make that a piercing… don’t want it falling off and losing it.”

His gaze wandered further down. The little plaid skirt clinging tightly to my hips, the red and black pattern interrupted by the pleats spaced all around. The front of the skirt dipping just across my upper thighs. I continue staring straight as I hear him wandering around my body, knowing his eyes are moving across to my ass… the skirt barely covering that curve… almost sure he can see a hint of the little white cotton panties beneath.

I stare straight out… complete silence, wondering if he is transfixed on my ass in the little skirt or if he has resumed down my legs to the knee-high socks. Or if the chunky-heeled Mary-Jane shoes I picked were right… it was those or knee boots. But he didn’t comment. Maybe it was the little bow on the strap over the top of my foot… I couldn’t tell. All I could do was stare straight ahead. Focusing my attention out the wall, unable to see hints of his response. Slowly breathing in and out…

“I look ridiculous…” I repeat softly, unable to bear the silence.

The light touch of his fingers began teasing my long ponytail… I could feel him twirling the long red length… teasing, spinning it around, then a strong tug straight down twisted my face up, staring up at the ceiling. My back arching for balance, pressing my chest outward. The buttons of my little blouse straining as my breasts pressing hard on the cloth.

“When you are being inspected, you will speak only when asked a question or told to speak…”

“Yes Sir…” I whisper softly. Yelping as my hair is yanked harder, sending me tumbling over backward onto the floor.

“I didn’t ask you anything, Bitch!” His hand was unrelenting on my hair. Before I can even regain my balance, my scalp burns as he begins dragging me across the floor sending me scrambling on hands and knees to follow. I hear the soft groan of leather as he sits down, yanking my hair again, pulling me up across his lap. My belly resting on his thighs, my full tits dangling over one side, my thighs on the other.

“You are starting at St. Catherine’s Academy in a week…” He says. I feel the edge of my skirt rising up… exposing my ass as I lay over his lap. “It’s a very prestigious liberal arts college for those that know it…” I feel the edge of his palm on my thigh, sending a little shiver through me. “It started off as a finishing school, but it’s since expanded. They have NOT, however, lowered their standards in regards to behavior.” I remain silent as I feel his hand slide up higher… tugging the edge of my panties… slipping them down to my thighs. “I had to pull a few strings and call in more than a favor or two in order to get you admitted… So you are representing me as well. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir…” I answer meekly. A loud smack echoes through my ears. A sudden burning across my ass billows upward as his hand comes down harshly on my back side… forcing a little yelp from my lips.

“Listen you little bitch… I told you before that the Academy is only accepting legacy admittances… My wife was a graduate here. That’s how we are getting you in…” Another smack across my ass sends shivers through me as the pale curve reddens. “Now princess, lets try that again. Do you understand?”

“Yes Daddy…”

“Good girl… now let’s practice, shall we?” his hand softly massaging my ass, the bright red fading slowly to pink. “You are attending St. Catherine’s Academy to earn your degree.”

“Yes Daddy…”

A sharp smack lands across my ass, making me squirm. “That wasn’t a question.” He says sternly. “Let’s try again… “You are attending St. Catherine’s Academy to earn your degree.”

I keep silent. His hand lightly patting my ass. “Good. And you are getting your degree so you can be employed…” He chuckles a little to himself. “employed at Harlin & Watts,”

I part my lips, but then think better of it. Remaining silent.

“And you are going to St. Catherine’s because all your other applications were turned down. Since they were denied, you must be a bimbo. Isn’t that right, girl?”

“Um… well, no Daddy. I am going to college.” A loud slap hits my ass again, the pain surging through, biting my lip.

“You do NOT contradict your betters…” His voice stern. “Seems you do have difficulty learning, Let’s try again. You must be a bimbo, isn’t that right?”

“Yes Daddy” I whisper, trying to hold back a tear from the building pain.

“You will follow all the rules, explicitly…” his voice steady

Silence…

“You will obey each and every staff member, no matter what they tell you…”

Silence…

“You will attend all the classes I tell you to… And you will score well.”

Silence…

“I expect you to succeed. Do you understand me?” he says

“Yes Daddy…” Another smack on the ass sends me rocking forward in his lap. “Ouch… what was that for?” I wiggle my toes trying to get my balance back.

“Because I can do as I please.” He says, I turn my head back down. Looking straight out across the room. “Now… when you are in class, if I am teaching, you will refer to me as ‘professor’ or ‘doctor’… in between classes and on campus, you can also use ‘daddy… everywhere else, ‘daddy’ is expected.” The statement a command, “Now princess, any questions?”

“I’m sure I will have a lot, but for right now… just one. I was looking through the dress code. If it’s so strict, why does it have a ‘maternity attire’ uniform?”

His chuckle was actually warm rather than strict. “Well princess, St. Catherine’s is a college, but some of the students come up through St. Bart’s School for Wayward Girls… They are a bit of a… naughty bunch and things happen with that sort of girl. Any other questions?”

“No Daddy…”

“Okay then princess…” I feel him pull my skirt back over my ass, pushing me onto my tall heels. I start to reach down for my panties that are pulling tight around my knees. “No, just leave them there. You can run along and get your makeup done. We will go tour the school soon.”

“Thank you, daddy…” I give him a little kiss on the forehead, then walk toward the bathroom, learning to use the panties as a hobble.

He smiles, as I close the door behind me… he reaches into the drawer, removing a stack of letters, the top from University of St. John’s… Through the clear plastic it reads “congratulations on your…” He tears up the letter, and the one beneath… and the one beneath. Carrying the shredded papers down the stairs, tossing them into the fireplace as he grabs his keys.