Failure is Not an Option Ch. 01


The Dean paused, noting how deeply humiliated she looked, but not overlooking her obvious excitement. She looked up at him imploringly. "Mr. Channing's terms are non-negotiable. Do you accept? If not, I have no recourse but to dismiss you—without a reference."

"Yes, Dean, I accept. When is my first. . . session?"

"A week from today, same time." He needed to begin testing her. "For now, I want you to get down on your hands and knees and clean up that mess." Meekly, she stood. "And take off your skirt or it will get wet on the floor." Slowly, she unbuttoned the skirt and unwrapped it from a hip, exposing her sheer panties, taut belly and long toned legs, still spread wide.

"Beautiful," he murmured, extending his arm to trace the marks on her thighs. She jumped at his touch but did not break her posture. "These look recent. From when?"

"J – just before I left home to move here. Six or eight weeks ago, I guess." He grabbed her hips and turned her around, running his fingertips over the marks on her rear thighs. "Did your boyfriend do this?"

She shook her head. "I–I don't have a boyfriend." He grabbed the waistband of the expensive panties and slowly pulled them down to below her ass. She gasped. Instead of his fingertips, he placed his entire hand on the warm, striated flesh.

"You're still being punished at the age of 26 by your father?" She didn't say anything. "You said he stopped when your parents divorced."

"He did, because I lived with my mother. But then she remarried and moved out-of-state. So when I received my teaching diploma, I moved back in with my father and brother till I could find a job."

"Speaking of your brother, you never answered my question earlier: Did your father punish your brother?"

"No sir," she said nervously. She changed the subject as she had before, a pattern of evasion that did not go unnoticed. He was now more convinced than ever that her father indulged in more than just punishment. Perhaps the father had given the brother rights to her as well? "Could I please clean up the spill now?"

"Certainly." He pulled the panty back up, covering the marks on her luscious ass. "There's a janitor's closet down the hall." She reached for her blouse and skirt. "Those won't be necessary." Cringing with embarrassment, he watched the skittish, long legged beauty open the office door and scamper out the anteroom into the hallway. She was back in less than a minute, flushed with embarrassment and nervousness, clutching a handful of rags. Once she was on her hands and knees, mopping up the water from around the sofa and under the coffee table, he kicked her heels so she would keep her legs spread wide and walked around to face her front, admiring the heavy tits hanging and swaying in the low-cut demi bra.

When she finished, he said, "Come over to the desk but don't get up." Humiliated, the dark-featured beauty crawled over to his desk and had the presence to kneel, legs spread with her arms in position. "She'd obviously been trained, probably by her father." He admired the striped thighs and heaving tits with their fattened nipples. Now he could see her pussy perfectly, the bulging lips pressed up against the tight, transparent fabric that was darkened by heavy moisture. He realized she must be a submissive who got off on humiliation. Next week would reveal her capacity for pain and skills as a slut.

"That will be all for today, Ms. Slatter. Be here same time next Friday. And don't forget that you will receive three punishments: two for your behavior today and another on Mr. Channing's behalf."

Crestfallen, she stood, having assumed that the Dean would make her service him, at the least with a blowjob. To delay her departure, she asked, "What is Mr. Channing like?"

The Dean thought for a moment. "He's a big guy, with a big paunch, a big balding head, a big mansion and a big fortune. He can be very dominating and demanding." She collected her sodden blouse and skirt and walked haltingly to the door, her drenched pussy burning with desire. She turned around as if she was reluctant to leave just yet. She flicked her huge hazel eyes at him. "Is there anything you want me to wear next Friday? Or bring?"

"Yes. Wear a shelf bra, not a half-cup like today. I will decide on which implement or implements to use. And you will be gagged to ensure our privacy."

She seemed to take that information in stride. "Yes, Dean. Thank you, sir, for your patience and . . . and your guidance. And thank you for not dismissing me. I won't disappoint you."

"You're welcome, but it's more important that you thank me after your punishment. And I have no doubt that you won't disappoint me. But Mr. Channing is a far stricter taskmaster." She left apprehensively, closing the door behind her, oblivious that her forehead, cheek and chin were still smeared with drying precum.

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