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William stared at Riley, his eyes hard. Across the desk, Finn looked at him with the same blank expression typically seen in cattle.



William had almost panicked when Riley came to his house. What he said seemed leading. And Buffy was only a few feet away, in William’s room. Hardly any clothes on. Before William had answered the door, he’d been pressing her down into the bed.



William had said something curt about the inappropriateness of seeking out the headmaster in his quarters—as if he could lecture anyone on inappropriateness, William thought—and walked Riley to his office in the administration building. Away from his home. Away from Buffy.



And then Riley sat across from him and gave a long, confounding explanation for the night William caught Buffy at Finn’s cottage, and William looked into his dumb bovine eyes and realized it he had nothing to worry about.



Riley didn’t know a damn thing.



He wasn’t trying to blackmail William; he was there to beg for his job back. “I didn’t touch her, she came by to thank me picking up her books when she dropped them and then she tripped when she was leaving and I was helping her up and she only stayed a minute,” he rambled.



William managed not to roll his eyes. William had to hand it to Finn; it sounded like something Buffy would do. Dropping by to insinuate herself closer to someone, getting her nearer and nearer to whatever her goal was. Vixen.



Finn was lying, though. He knew why Buffy was there. He just wasn’t smart enough to figure out that William knew, too.



“I’d like to help you out, Finn,” William said with perfect insincerity. “But I’m sure you understand that the board of directors would never stand for such a thing. They’re quite conservative.”



Riley started to babble. “But I swear, I never—”



William held up one hand. “Actually, now that I think on it, I may be able to help you,” he told the young man. He flipped through his rolodex for a moment, then wrote down a name and number.



“Here,” he told Riley, handing the slip of paper to him. “A friend of mine runs an establishment upstate. As it happens, I believe he has a maintenance position available.”



Riley perked up. Idiot. Yeah, he was really going to like fixing leaky pipes at a halfway house for newly released convicts, William thought.



“That’s great,” said Finn happily.



William stood up and shook his hand, then led Finn to the door. “I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you,” he told Riley pleasantly, then shut Finn out of his office.



The first thing William did was call the security officer at the front gate and tell him to make sure Riley Finn left the campus immediately. Mr. Finn was not to be allowed on campus in the future.



The second thing he did was unlock the small room off the side of his office. He flipped on the light, and surveyed the assembled toys.



Maybe it was time to put them to use.



~*~*~*~



William let himself back into his house, swinging his briefcase. “Hello?” he called.



Buffy ran out of his bedroom, now fully dressed in her school uniform. “Is he gone? What did he want? Does he know anything?” she demanded, flying into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his waist and peppered him with kisses.



William nuzzled her hair. “No, I think it’s safe to say that Riley Finn doesn’t know anything,” he answered calmly.



Buffy sighed in relief. She’d been so frightened when William left with Riley. That little bastard—who did he think he was? First he tried to make her go down on him, then he tried to ruin her and William?



She should have known William would take care of it.



William pulled back from Buffy and stroked his hand down her arm. “Come on,” he told her, taking her hand and pulling her along. He took her down a hallway filled with portraits of headmasters past and led her into what could only be the library. Bookshelves were wall-to-wall, and a large mahogany desk dominated one side of the room.



He dropped her hand and continued to the desk, laying his briefcase on top of it. “Come here,” he told her.



Buffy blinked at him; his voice sounded a little remote. “O-okay,” she said a little nervously.



“Buffy, you never told me why you were in Finn’s rooms that night,” he pointed out quietly, taking her hands in his and looking down at them.



Buffy blushed. She couldn’t believe she’d ever thought Riley could stand in for William. “It was nothing,” she dismissed, embarrassed.



“He didn’t—hurt you, did he?” William asked carefully. Buffy shook his head.



William nodded, satisfied. He’d wanted to make sure before he went any further.



William bent over the desk and opened the briefcase, turning it so Buffy could see what was inside. He ignored her gasp.



“Do you know what that is?” he asked.



Buffy stared at it, eyes big. “It’s, uh…the paddle from your office,” she finally replied.



“Yes, it is, my dear.”



Buffy finally tore her eyes away from the paddle and looked at Spike. His gaze was trained on her face.



“You know, considering the prank you pulled on me, I don’t think the day you spent gardening really taught you anything,” he said softly. “I think you may need to be punished.”



Her breath caught in her throat.



“Wouldn’t you feel better if you didn’t have that guilt hanging over you?” he suggested, his voice low and throbbing.



Buffy looked down at the paddle again. It was creepy. It was disgusting. It was wrong.



“Yes, Mr. Bloodsworth,” she replied, looking up at him with sparks in her eyes.



“That’s my girl,” praised William, shoving the notepads and books and the still-open briefcase across the desk so that one side was free.



“Please remove your panties, Miss Summers,” he instructed her. A thrill went through her to hear him address her so formally again.



For the second time, she pulled off her panties as he watched. When they were together the other times, he undressed her.



“Fold them and put them on the shelf,” he directed. She obeyed. “Now, come here,” he told her, patting the side of the desk. She looked at him a little uncertainly. “Bend over the desk, Miss Summers,” he clarified. “Fold your arms in front of you, lay your head on your arms, and present me with your ass.”



Was it wrong that she could feel herself getting wetter with every word?



She did as he told, and he stroked his hand up under her little skirt, fondling her round, silky ass before he pushed the skirt around her waist. “Don’t move,” he told her, walking over to get the paddle.



She didn’t. She didn’t move when he left, or when he came back to her, or even when he stood there for long moments. She could feel his gaze boring into her, and she wanted to cover up and show off at the same time.



Finally she squirmed just a little and began, “What are you—”



THWACK!



Buffy gasped in response to the dull thud against her bottom cheeks. She’d never felt anything like it—it was a different sensation than when he—



THWACK!



God, it was like some conduit that went straight to her clit! Hands trapped under her head, Buffy tried to rub her pussy against the edge of the desk, but William caught her hips in his hands and stilled her.



“What do you think you’re doing? We’re not finished yet, young lady.”



Buffy groaned in frustration.



THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! It went on and on. Buffy finally lost count.



Then he was in front of the desk, sitting in the chair. “Come here, baby,” he said, holding his arms open. She crawled into his lap and buried her face against his throat, shivering from unspent desire. “Are you mad at me, baby?”



Buffy shook her head, burrowing against him.



He petted her shamelessly. “Do you want me to take care of you?” he asked, insinuating his hand between her thighs and stroking a finger along her crease.



She shuddered in response. “God, yes,” she moaned, pushing against his hand. A few seconds later she was crying out and clenching around his fingers.



He pressed kisses along her forehead as she slowly came back down to earth. “Do you feel better now that you don’t have that weighing on your conscience any more?” he whispered against her ear. “Have you learned your lesson?”



She nodded, growing sleepy.



He thought she’d drifted off when he felt her stir. “I’m very stubborn,” she whispered. “You might have to show me again.”





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