The Detention
by SrijaMadhwani

Part 2

The next morning, Megan stood in front of her closet, her hand hovering over the neatly hung uniforms. She had three identical pleated skirts, each regulation length—just above the knee. Yesterday, she'd rolled the waistband to make it shorter. Today, she took a pair of scissors and cut four inches off the hem.

The fabric fell in a jagged line halfway up her thighs. When she put it on and looked in the mirror, she could practically see the curve of her ass cheeks when she turned. Her blouse she left unbuttoned one button lower than allowed, the black lace of her bra visible. She applied more makeup than usual—smoky eyes, glossed lips.

Let him see what he'd done to her.

The morning passed uneventfully. She caught a few stares in the hallway, whispers from the boys. Jessica gave her a weird look but said nothing. Megan felt a thrum of anticipation every time the intercom crackled to life, but it wasn't until third period, during Mr. Davidson's geometry lecture, that she heard her name.

"Megan Thompson to the principal's office. Megan Thompson."

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She gathered her books slowly, savoring the weight of every gaze as she walked out of the classroom. The halls were empty again, her heels clicking. She pushed open the frosted glass door without knocking.

Principal Harris was on the phone. He held up a finger, listening, his eyes traveling over her body. He took in the shortened skirt, the exposed cleavage, the bold way she stood. A slow smile spread across his face.

"Yes, I'll have that report to you by end of day. Thank you." He hung up. "Close the door."

She did, then stood in front of his desk, hands on her hips. "You called for me, Principal?"

"I did." He leaned back, interlacing his fingers over his stomach. "I was reviewing your file. It seems you've been late to first period twice this week already."

"It's only Tuesday."

"Exactly. I'm concerned your little... lesson from yesterday didn't take." He stood, walking around the desk. "So I've decided on a more thorough program. A daily meeting, until your behavior improves."

Her pussy clenched. "What kind of meeting?"

"The kind where you learn your place." He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell his cologne. "Strip. Now."

She didn't hesitate. Her hands went to her blouse, unbuttoning it quickly, letting it fall to the floor. She unclasped her bra and dropped it. The skirt came next, the shortened hem making it easy to step out of. She kicked off her flats, peeled off her socks, then pushed down her panties—a tiny black thong she'd worn deliberately.

Now she stood naked before him, just like yesterday. But this time she wasn't trembling with shame. She was trembling with anticipation, her nipples peaked, a slick warmth already gathering between her thighs.

"Turn around. Hands on the desk. Spread your legs."

She obeyed, bending forward, her palms flat on the polished wood. The position arched her back, tilting her hips. She felt his hand slide over her ass, fingers dipping into her wetness.

"So eager," he murmured. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? All night?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good girl. But today, we're going to do something different." He stepped back, and she heard the rustle of fabric. "I want you to turn around. Kneel."

She turned and lowered herself to her knees on the carpet. He stood in front of her, his suit pants already open, his cock jutting out, thick and hard. He stroked it slowly.

"Open your mouth."

She did, and he guided the head past her lips. The taste of him flooded her tongue—salt and musk. He pushed deeper, filling her mouth, and she gagged slightly.

"Use your tongue. Wrap your lips around it. Good girl."

She sucked him, her head bobbing, her hands gripping his thighs for balance. He groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair. He started to thrust, fucking her face with a steady rhythm. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't stop.

"That's it. Take it all." He pulled out suddenly, a string of saliva connecting his cock to her lips. "Stand up. Turn around, put your hands on the window."

She looked at the window behind his desk—it faced the main hallway. Anyone walking past could look inside. The blinds were open.

"They'll see me," she whispered.

"That's the point." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the window. "Press your palms against the glass."

She did. The glass was cool against her skin. Her reflection stared back at her—a naked girl, her makeup smeared, her hair a mess. Behind her, Principal Harris stood, still fully dressed except for his exposed cock.

"Spread your legs wider."

She obeyed, and he stepped up behind her. He didn't push in immediately. Instead, he slid his cock between her thighs, along her wet slit, teasing her.

"Look at yourself," he said, his lips near her ear. "Look at the school slut, naked in the principal's office, begging for it."

"I'm not begging."

"You will." He angled his hips and thrust into her from behind, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out, her palms squeaking against the glass. "Now. Beg me to fuck you harder."

"Please... please fuck me harder."

He pulled back and slammed into her, the impact pressing her breasts against the cold window. He fucked her there, against the glass, while students and teachers passed in the hallway. She saw a boy from her history class glance in, his eyes widening. A female teacher walked by and quickly looked away.

"Everyone knows what you are now," he grunted, driving into her. "Principal's whore. Dirty little cocksleeve."

"Yes," she gasped. "I'm yours."

He sped up, his breathing ragged. She felt the familiar coil tightening in her belly, the orgasm building. She didn't try to hold back. She let herself come, a loud moan escaping her, her body shuddering against the window.

He followed a moment later, shooting deep inside her, his cum hot and thick. He stayed buried for a long moment, then pulled out. She felt it leaking down her inner thigh.

"Clean yourself up," he said, tucking himself back into his pants. "Then get dressed. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time."

She pushed away from the window, her legs unsteady. She gathered her clothes, pulling them on slowly, savoring the feel of his cum drying on her skin. When she was dressed, she turned to face him.

"Thank you," she said.

"Good girl. Now get to class. And Megan—leave the skirt short."

She walked out into the hallway, head held high. A few students stared. She smiled at them. Tomorrow she would wear the same skirt. Maybe even shorter.