Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿CATHERINE -(TM)S STORY by Hugo Rune

   "Well, what do you think?" asked Catherine as she turned and modelled
for her roommate Emma, the morning sun accentuating her curves and hollows,
and setting the red mane of hair which cascaded down her back aflame with
colour. "They're beautiful!" replied the girl seated on the bed, admiring
her friend's new matching bra and panties.  "Where did you get them?" "My
older sister Ellen sent them to me as a late birthday present - she's so
cool - Mum would freak if she knew I'd got anything like this!" Catherine
stood in the middle of the dorm room she shared with Emma.  In addition to
the day-students who made up the majority of girls at the college, the
Cronenberg School for Girls housed a number of boarding students who lived
in rooms on campus.  Such was the good reputation of the school it
attracted a number of out-of-state (and even international) pupils whose
parents were willing to pay the extra fees to ensure their daughters
received the best education.  Catherine herself was from England, where her
family still resided.  She was a long way from home at only 15, but her
mother - an American - had attended the Cronenberg, and wished her youngest
daughter to receive the same character-building education that only it
could provide. Catherine turned to look in the full-length mirror that
stood in the corner of the room, delighted with the daring new lingerie. 
The set was made of ivory satin; the glossy material practically glowed
next to her pale creamy skin.  The panties were shockingly high cut in the
leg, running from close to her crotch to the crest of her hip, making her
legs look fabulously long and sleek.  She turned side-on to the mirror and
followed the hem of her panties with her finger as it curved over her hip
and bottom, leaving fully half her bottom-cheek exposed.  Turning back she
blushed as she studied the lacy front panel more closely, the waistband
swooped perilouslylow, revealing the soft contours of her bare tummy. 
What's more, the lace was so sheer she could see the sparse red curls of
her hair "down there" through the material!  The modest girl had to fight
the impulse to cover her crotch with her hands, even though only she and
her best friend were present.  Painfully shy, she had always admired her
older sisters daring, but didn't know if she could ever wear this lingerie,
even under her clothes, without blushing scarlet.  Never mind her mother,
the teachers here at school would have fits if they even suspected she
owned such outrageous items of clothing Sitting behind her, fully dressed
in the school uniform, Emma tucked a stray lock of raven hair behind her
ear and watched her friend in the mirror with good-natured envy; "That bra
is gorgeous," she thought.  Her friends B-cup breasts were barely decent
within a demi-cup bra of the same ivory satin, the narrow straps of which
swept down to the sides of her ribcage leaving the smooth expanse of her
chest bare, except for the sprinkling of freckles, which to a lesser extent
appeared all over Catherine's body (except the pale globes of her backside,
as her friends teasingly pointed out in the showers).  The tops of the bra
cups were edged in lace, only just concealing a pair of girlish nipples of
the palest pink.  Emma let out a small sigh.  Though she too was only
fifteen, her own curves were lush and full, and although her voluptuous
figure would be enough to inspire delight in any boy, she couldn't help but
be jealous of her friend's svelte frame.She could never get away with
wearing such a flimsy bra, she thought, not with her large chest.  But she
had to admit her friend looked fantastic.  The only fault Emma could find
in the ensemble was that the cups of the bra were a little large, so that
Catherine's perky mounds sat in them a little loosely.  It hardly mattered
though, Catherine's young breasts needed little support, and Emma expected
her friend -(TM)s chest would fill out with time. Time, TIME! Emma looked
down at her watch. "Catherine, look at the time! It's only twelve minutes
to first lesson!!" Startled out of her dreamy self- admiration, Catherine
cried out "Hell!" and flung open the wardrobe.  Panicking she began to
pull on her blouse, and then slipped on her grey school skirt. "Here, help
me with my buttons!" she cried as she started to knot her school tie.
"Wait! Your underwear!  You'll have to change it!!" yelled Emma.  Both
girls knew just how strict the uniform codes were at their school. "No
time, No time!  Besides - no-one will know, we don't have Gym today, and
I never get in trouble." This last was a reference to the unique
punishment system at the Cronenberg.  Holding that corporal punishment was
barbaric, the school long ago decided that public humiliation was a more
humane, and ultimately more effective deterrent to misbehaviour.  Indeed
many girls whose petty misdemeanour had resulted in them spending the day
bare from the waist up (or waist down for more serious transgressions)
would have almost preferred a few whacks of the cane to their prolonged
shame. "You're crazy." Emma muttered as she helped her friend get dressed,
her fingers occasionally brushing against soft, warm skin as she hurriedly
buttoned, tucked and smoothed.  "There, now I've got to get going - will
you be ok?" "I'll be fine, they don't do spot checks you know!" laughed
Catherine as she finished dressing, tying the laces of her flat-heeled
school shoes and buttoning down her blazer. "I wouldn't put it past them!"
Her friend teased as she dashed out the door, "Just don't be late!" The
sudden reminder of the consequences of tardiness put wings to Catherine's
feet. 

   Dashing through the corridors of the dormitory building Catherine prayed
she wouldn't be tardy.  She figured she was in no real danger of arriving
late, but not having a watch she didn't want to take that chance.  As she
sprinted down the stairs, her grey knee-length skirt flapped wildly about
her flashing thighs, and her ponytail of flaming red hair, which normally
hung low enough to brush the swell of her buttocks, swished and bounced in
her wake.  She jumped the last few steps and burst around the corner of the
ground floor corridor too quickly to avoid the bundles strewn in her path
Today was laundry day and the housekeepers were stripping all the beds of
their dirty linen to replace them with fresh.  The sheets due for washing
were left in the corridor outside the rooms to be collected later, and it
was one of these which tangled itself about Catherine's feet, tripping her
over.  Due to her speed, the young girl flew almost five feet in a
horizontal dive before landing with a soft thump, face down in a heap of
white linen. "Goodness child, are you all right?" asked a voice.
"Uhhhhh..." Dazedly Catherine rolled onto her back before focusing on the
figure that had just emerged from one of the rooms, at the same time she
recognised the voice as belonging to Mrs Clare, head housekeeper and mother
hen to the boarding girls. "My but you did take a tumble, can you stand
up?" Coming quickly to her senses Catherine took stock of her situation;
Glancing down she was horrified to see her skirt was bunched around her
waist, her bare legs splayed apart from her fall, placing her decidedly
non-uniform panties in plain view!  The pose could not have been more
revealing if it had been deliberate!  Hastily she brought her legs
together, snatched her skirt down to her knees and bounded to her feet. 
Avoiding looking at the older woman's face Catherine began to stammer out a
reply, hoping against hope that the matronly housekeeper hadn't noticed her
risquÃ(C) underwear. "I'm fine Mrs Clare, I'm ok, I'm not hurt, sorry I was
running, I'm in a hurry, I don't want to be late for lesson, May I go
please?" Mrs Clare was generally a soft touch.  Not being a teacher she had
less demand for discipline among the girls and rarely issued clothing
penalties to girls in her charge.  This didn't mean she had any tolerance
for deliberate contravention of school rules however.  Catherine risked a
glance at the woman's face and her heart sank at the disapproving frown she
saw there. "Just a minute girl, what are you wearing under that skirt?"
came the dreaded question.  Arms now folded beneath her breasts, Mrs Clare
now seemed a lot less concerned with the young girl's well-being.  Though
she wanted to curl up and die, Catherine knew it was no use lying.  Instead
she got busy with excuses. "Please miss I was only trying them on in my
room, but then I was late and I didn't have time to change, and I didn't
want to be late so I thought it wouldn't matter, I never meant to wear them
to classes..." "Rules are rules Catherine, I thought all my girls knew
that, now raise your skirt.....  higher......  turn around......" Mrs Clare
shook her head and tsk'd in disappointment as she watched the 15 year old
follow her orders, arms raised to her chest, her skirt bunched in each
hand. The girl was wearing the most shocking underwear, in satin and lace,
what little there was of it.  Impractical too, she thought as the girl
shuffled through 360 degrees.  With all that running the back of the
panties had practically disappeared between the girls bottom-crack, leaving
the whole of her cheeks bare in a most lewd display - and as for the front,
the lace was so sheer you could read newspaper print through it, never mind
being able to see the downy growth of ginger hair which barely concealed
the girl's privates.  Some hair even peeked out of the lacy hem where the
crotch had ridden up in front.  And such a pretty young girl too, Mrs Clare
sighed, she might well blush This was an understatement.  Catherine's
face was beetroot red; she was mortified beyond belief!  Her lower lip
began to tremble as she noticed other members of the housekeeping staff
emerging from the rooms to witness what was going on.  Two Hispanic girls
in their twenties, wearing maid's uniforms, appeared in a doorway, their
eyes widening in shock and then glee as they saw the beautiful young
redhead turning about with her skirt raised nearly to her chin.  Because
the skirt was cinched at the girls waist, and the brief panties merely
followed the contours of Catherine's hips, this left a broad band of bare
midriff exposed to the gaze of the two young maids.  Whispering to each
other, they giggled silently, one of them winking to Catherine her approval
of the scandalous panties, which only deepened the girl's shame. "At least
there are no men about," she thought.  Since coming to the Cronenberg
school the idea of being exposed before a member of the opposite sex (a
real possibility, many of the classes were taught by men), had been enough
to keep her an ideal pupil, never putting a single foot wrong, and
now this had to happen.  Catherine dreaded hearing whatever punishment
Mrs Clare decided to hand out. Luckily for her, Mrs Clare's kindly nature
was winning out over her shock and disapproval.  She did not wholly agree
with the punishment policies of the school, thinking them often
unnecessarily cruel, especially when the girl was as shy and modest as
Catherine.  But the girl couldn't be allowed to believe it was acceptable
to wear such things, and the breaking of established rules must never go
unpunished. "Please remove those panties Catherine.  You know the uniform
in this school, panties are plain white cotton - of a respectable cut. 
I'm severely disappointed in you." Closing her eyes to hide her shame,
Catherine peeled the panties down her legs, tugging them free from where
they were bunched between the cheeks of her bottom she pulled them to her
feet and stepped out of them.  "Now, hand them over." She handed the scrap
of warm satin to Mrs Clare and waited for what was coming next.  "You may
have these back at the end of the term, I won't permit you to have them
while you're staying under my roof.  I'll let you keep your skirt on for
now, though I don't know why I should, but you must spend the rest of the
day without underwear.  I'll be locking your room 'till this evening to
make sure you don't sneak back to put any on.  Make sure it's white cotton
from now on, or I'll strip you buck naked I swear!  Now be off with you,
and you might still get to lesson on time!" Catherine blinked twice before
scurrying off to class.  She couldn't believe she was still wearing a
skirt, she'd been so sure she'd have it confiscated too!  Still, being
without panties all day was going to be no picnic, especially in this cold
climate - but it could have been so much worse!  She thanked her stars that
Mrs Clare was too much of a prude to imagine that Catherine might be
wearing a bra equally as revealing as the confiscated panties. 
If that had been found out...  Catherine's mind refused to consider the
consequences.  Hurrying to class she was very conscious of the way the
hem of her skirt was flipping around, and she took great care not to trip.
Even so she made it to the door of the classroom, smoothed her skirt and
composed herself before calmly entering.  As she shut the classroom door
and made her way to her seat, the bell sounded the beginning of another
school day.  The teacher sitting at the front of the classroom arched an
eyebrow at Catherine suggesting she had escaped a reprimand by the skin of
her teeth. Plopping quickly into her chair, Catherine nearly yelped as the
bare skin of her pert bottom made contact with the cool wooden seat. 
Blushing furiously she reached back and smoothed her skirt under her legs,
so that there would at least be something between herself and the chair.
Despite her vulnerable predicament, she tried to quell the butterflies in
her stomach and allowed herself a small sigh of relief.  She couldn't help
feeling elated.  If she could just settle down, the worst of the day seemed
to be over.  With her skirt clamped firmly between her knees she listened
as the teacher began the day's first class. That's when Catherine, with a
sinking feeling, remembered what other classes she had that day...... 

   At the Cronenberg School for Girls, Dancing was considered a vital part
of any young girl -(TM)s education.  It fostered grace and elegance, and
taught fitness and discipline.  All girls had one class a week with Miss
Adler, the school's qualified dance instructor, learning the basics of tap,
ballet and modern, and recently they had begun lessons in Ballroom.  At
first the headmistress and governors of the school had tried to prevent
Miss Adler giving lessons in Ballroom dancing, because there is no way to
teach Ballroom without partners - and partners meant boys.  Those in
charge of the Cronenberg School tried to see that their girls had as little
to do with boys as possible, and thus the idea of inviting groups of
teenage boys from the nearby Terence Gilliam Boy's School to take part in
lessons with the girls was viewed with outrage by many of the more
traditional members of the staff.  But Miss Adler had insisted and the
school, knowing it could not afford to lose such a skilled instructor, had
relented.  And so in the last few weeks, dancing lessons had gained an
exciting new twist for the girls... The Dancing lesson on Tuesday afternoon
was normally one of the highlights of Catherine's week.  She loved moving
to the music, letting her mind go and expressing her feelings through the
rhythm.  In addition, though she blushed to admit it, the new lessons in
Ballroom dancing were her favourite of the course.  Though there had been
no close-dancing, and everyone was under the watchful eye of Miss Adler, it
was still thrilling for Catherine to dance in the arms of a boy her own
age. With one set of hands holding, and another on each other's hips, it
was by far the most intimate experience of Catherine's young life. 
Thrilling, but also nerve- wracking for the shy young thing.  Whenever she
made eye contact with her dancing partner, a blush would spread on her
cheeks and she would bite her lip and have to look away.  The first week
she had to stop for a few minutes to quell her fit of nervous giggles,
though she managed to convince Miss Adler she was merely out of breath. 
Yes, ordinarily she looked forward with eager anticipation to the week's
lesson, but today was different. As Catherine entered the studio, walking
stiffly upright, she felt as if there was a neon sign reading "NO
PANTIES" across her forehead.  When Miss Clare had confiscated her
underwear earlier in the day she hadn't thought it so bad, until she
remembered she would be spending an hour and a half in a room with fifteen
boys her own age!  What if one of them should find out?  She couldn't
imagine how anyone would, but the possibility terrified her.  Now she
couldn't meet the eyes of anyone in the room, not even Brian, the tall
dark-haired boy who had been her partner since the lessons began, and who
gave her a sweet smile whenever she arrived for the lesson.  Then she saw
Emma across the room and made her way over.  Emma was on one knee tying the
laces of her dancing shoes, and Catherine dropped down to join her. "Hi,"
said her friend "have you heard, we're starting a new dance today.  I'm
glad, the waltz was getting a little boring." Catherine said nothing and
started changing into her dance shoes.  "Say, are you still wearing your
new underwear?  I bet Brian would like it!" She teased. "Uh, not exactly."
mumbled Catherine, unwilling to reveal her embarrassment even to her best
friend.  She needn't have worried though, because at that moment as
Catherine swapped knees to begin on her other shoe, Emma was granted a full
view up her friend's skirt all the way to... "Catherine!  What happened to
your panties??" hissed Emma hardly able to believe she'd just caught sight
of Catherine -(TM)s barely-there muff and, because of the way her friend
was kneeling, even the lips of her virgin pussy, slightly parted!  Her eyes
moistening with tears of shame, Catherine explained how she had lost her
panties, and confessed her fears about the upcoming lesson.  "Don't worry
you'll be fine, no-one will know.  Just, uh, be careful how you kneel in
future!" Flushing crimson Catherine stood up and joined the rest of the
class with Emma by her side, bolstered by her friend's reassurances. "To
warm up," announced Miss Adler "we will begin with a waltz, which you
should all have mastered by now." she added with a small smile "Partners
please!" Emma whispered "good luck" to Catherine and made her way over to
Roger, her dance partner.  Placing her hands over her jittery stomach
Catherine tried to smile as she saw Brian approach.  There was a heart
stopping moment for her as Brian took her hand and placed his other gently
on her hip. "What if he can feel I haven't got panties on!" she thought.
The moment passed though as Brian showed no unusual reaction, and when the
music began and they started to dance, she felt her fears begin to subside.
Her confidence was helped by the fact that Brian seemed to have trouble
meeting her gaze, he kept his eyes downcast throughout almost the whole
dance.  Seemingly fixated on the floor. "It's as if he's as shy of me as I
am of him" she thought, and that thought made her feel warm and tingly
inside.  She lifted her head up and began to smile from a sense of pride,
rather than nervousness.  A new and unfamiliar feeling of herself as an
attractive young girl began to envelop her, at the idea that this handsome
young boy might feel nervous about dancing with her.  Indeed, though she
would never have believed it, she was one of the most beautiful girls in
the room, and Brian was envied by his friends for being lucky enough to
have her as a partner.  It was only as the dance ended and they stepped
apart to bow and curtsy to each other that Catherine was able to look down
and see exactly what had occupied her partner's attention throughout the
dance. It took her a moment to work out what she was seeing.  It seemed as
if Brian had fixed a tiny square of mirrored glass to the toe of his right
shoe.  Why on earth he might do such a thing was beyond her for at least
three seconds.  Then she realised that standing so close to each other,
with the mirror he would have been able to see right up her skirt!  He must
have seen EVERYTHING!!!Catherine's fantasy castle came crashing down about
her ears.  Her warm feelings of pride and contentment evaporated, to be
replaced not by shame or embarrassment, which surprised her, but a seething
anger at this crude, cruel, smirking BOY! "You PIG!" she yelled, and
pushed at him.  Startled by her reaction, Brian couldn't keep on his feet
and fell on his back.  He did keep his wits about him though, for as he
landed he swiftly palmed the mirror from his shoe and swept it into his
trouser pocket before anyone could see. "AAUUGGH!!" Catherine screamed
and curled her hands into fists advancing on the supine boy. "Stop this
INSTANT!" Miss Adler's voice cracked across the room like a whip.  "What is
the meaning of this outrageous display?  Catherine, explain yourself at
once!" Stopped in her tracks by the powerful command of her teacher, but
still in the throes of a violent passion, Catherine whirled to face Miss
Adler. "Miss, He - He's been looking, up my SKIRT!" she cried.  "All the
time we were dancing!" "Really?" asked the teacher, puzzled "Does he have
eyes in his knees, that he was able to do this?  Talk sense girl!" "No!  He
had a mirror - on his shoe, he was looking in the mirror the whole time!"
Now Catherine's anger was dissipating, and her more familiar feelings of
shame and embarrassment began to return in full force.  The thought that
this boy, who she had liked and wanted so much to like her, that he had
seen up her skirt without her knowing!  Bad enough if she had been wearing
panties, but it had to have been today!  He must have seen her privates,
and even her bottom the way his feet wove between her legs as they danced.
Catherine wanted to die of shame when she thought about his eyes feasting
on her lightly furred pussy.  The other girls used to tease her in the
showers because her hair down there was gingery while theirs was dark brown
or black.  They didn't tease the blonde girls, only her.  Oh what
must HE have thought??  She wanted to die.. "I see no mirror," said Miss
Adler interrupting Catherine's self-crucifixion.  "What?" thought
Catherine, her thoughts unfocused - she didn't realise she had spoken
aloud. "I said I see no mirror on this boys shoe, where is this supposed
mirror Catherine?" Miss Adler was annoyed at this interruption to her
lesson.  A consummate professional, she had very little tolerance for
fussing and silly behaviour.  And having had a career in the liberal world
of the arts, she had no patience for shy "blushing rose" types like
Catherine whom she believed were soppy and childish.  In addition she
believed wholeheartedly in Cronenberg's discipline policy, which in her
view tended to teach these girls that excessive modesty was just making a
rod for your own back.  In other words, the more a girl fussed about her
modesty, the worse she suffered when undergoing forced exposure.  In the
long run she hoped these girls learned that body-shame was an unnecessary
concept, and a common-sense attitude to nudity was best in the long run. 
(In this view, as in others, she differed from the Schools governing body).
She fully suspected that the girl was making all this mirror nonsense up,
probably because the boy had stolen a peck on the cheek and she was shocked
because she enjoyed it!  But still the child persisted. "Miss it's in his
pocket, he put it there when he fell!  Make him turn out his pockets!"
tears were welling in Catherine's eyes now that the backwash of her
emotions had hit her, and her voice was trembling also. "Is this true?"
Miss Adler asked.  Though she hardly expected an admission of guilt even if
it was. "No Miss Adler, look." said Brian, still on the floor though now
propped up on one elbow, as he turned both pockets inside out and opened
his hands to show there was nothing in them.  Unbeknownst to Catherine,
Brian had found a hole in his trouser pocket, and in a moment of
inspiration instead of pocketing the mirror, he had slipped it through the
hole and tucked it into his briefs.  It was hardly comfortable, especially
considering the raging hard-on he had after seeing Catherine's naked ass
and pussy.  He never imagined when he concocted his plan to see up her
skirt that she'd be "sans panties", as he and his friends jokingly
described their fantasy girls.  The boys of his school had heard some
pretty wild tales about how they punished girls at the Cronenberg, and now
he began to believe they were true.  He knew that the sight of her
upside-down ginger pussy (ginger!  wait till he told his friends!) would
be etched in his mind forever. Catherine was feeling much the same way at
the sight of Brian's empty pockets.  "But, but he DID have a mirror Miss
Adler!  I'm NOT making it up!" She couldn't understand how he had managed
to make it disappear though; and she had a terrible feeling about the way
Miss Adler was regarding her with growing irritation. "Catherine, you know
I do not tolerate lying, and if you make an accusation without proof you do
not deserve to be believed.  I don't know what caused all this fuss and
nonsense but it ends here!  And to stop you worrying about boys looking up
your skirt I suggest you dispense with it entirely!  That ought to make you
think twice about disturbing my lesson with trivialities in the future! 
Hand it over, NOW Catherine!" Catherine could barely hear the shocked gasps
of the girls and the eager mutterings of the boys above the blood pounding
in her ears.  She hadn't registered anything after her teacher had said
".....  I suggest you dispense with it entirely!...." and now her vision
began to blur around the edges as she locked eyes with Emma, and saw her
friend's mouth in a wide "O" of disbelief.  Only Emma knew exactly how much
losing her skirt would mean.  Even Catherine was having trouble taking it
all in! In her shock, Catherine had forgotten that one other person knew
exactly what was about to happen.  Brian's face was flushed and his eyes
sparkled in anticipation as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.
This could be about to become the greatest day of his life!.... 

   "Well?" snapped Miss Adler, "I'm waiting.." Her face a picture of
wide-eyed horror, Catherine gripped her skirt in both hands - terrified to
the point of paralysis by the thought of losing it.  The prospect of her
female classmates watching her strip to her panties would alone have been
enough to drive her to distraction, but half of the class was made up of
boys her own age - and eventhat wasn't the worst of it!!  Catherine
finally summoned up the strength to speak; her only hope remained in
appealing to her teacher -(TM)s mercy. "P-Please Miss, I c-can't take my
skirt off...  I just CAN'T!!" she wailed.  The other girls in the class
began to mutter in shocked amazement and Miss Adler's brows darkened in
annoyance.  One of the things all pupils at the Cronenberg School for Girls
quickly learned is that arguing or appealing once punishment had been
delivered only brought a stiffer penalty.  Catherine was doing herself no
favours - no favours at all! "Did I hear you correctly girl?  Do you
presume to argue with me?  I've never heard such impudence!  What on earth
makes you think I should change my mind??" That was indeed the question,
and answering it was the most embarrassing situation Catherine had faced in
her 15 years, but she had to try, try anything to avoid what was coming. 
Hanging her head down in shame, grateful for the few locks of hair which
had escaped her ponytail earlier and now hung forward to further shield her
face, the poor, frightened and modest little girl closed her eyes against
the sight of the crowd which now surrounded her and said in a quiet,
trembling voice - little more than a whisper. "Please Miss Adler ....  I
-(TM)m not w-wearing any panties." "I can't hear you child, speak up!" "I'm
not wearing any PANTIES!!" she shrieked, her head snapping up to show
glistening tears now running freely down her scarlet cheeks.  Unable to
contain her humiliation at being made to admit such a thing in front of all
the other girls and boys, Catherine held herself tightly and shivered as
uncontrollable sobbing shook her slim frame. Miss Adler on the other hand
merely pursed her lips in frustration.  True, she hadn't meant to punish
the girl so severely, but no teacher could hope to maintain discipline once
seen to go back on her word.  Plus the child had brought it on herself,
imagine attending her lesson without wearing any underwear!  The girl was
clearly not the wilting flower she pretended to be, Miss Adler couldn't
believe Catherine could be so brazen!  Well, perhaps this would serve as a
sharp lesson not to use her dancing class as an opportunity for shameless
thrill-seeking! "Well Catherine, you are in a pickle!  But that is neither
here nor there - your punishment was to remove your skirt, which you will
now do without further delay, or there'll be worse to follow mark my words!
And for Heaven's sake pull yourself together!" The last was delivered in a
sharp bark, for Catherine's pathetic whimpering was grating on the
teacher's nerves.  Amazingly it seemed to work as the girl hitched her last
sob and wiped her eyes.  Though her chin still trembled, her hands began to
move towards the buttons of her skirt. Catherine now felt she was beyond
tears.  She had the strangest feeling, as if she was far away watching all
this happen to someone else.  Her dreamlike state was reinforced by the
fact that the dance studio was completely silent.  The boys who had at
first balked when they heard they were required to attend dancing classes
at a girls school now thanked the gods that they had been allowed to be
here to witness this event.  With eager eyes and baited breath they waited.
The girls were too shocked to speak, some held hands to their faces, or
covered their mouths in amazement at what Catherine was being forced to do.
Some shook their head in sympathy, and Emma felt tears brimming for her
best friend's plight.  Though there were a minority of mean spiteful girls
who watched with the same eagerness as the boys for their classmate's
humiliation, the one emotion which they all shared was relief that it
wasn't happening to them. Now Catherine watched detachedly as her numb
fingers, seeming to move of their own accord, began to fumble with the
first button of her skirt.  The loss of tension around her waist as it
popped free, felt to her like a bridge support snapping under her while she
crossed a gaping chasm.  She very nearly smiled at the colourful image as,
like an automaton, she moved onto the next button.  Though the skirt was
tight over her hips, it was looser once it reached her thighs, and after
another two buttons the skirt would drop to the ground of it's own accord -
freeing Catherine, so she felt, from the burden of taking an active part in
her own humiliation.  But unfortunately she wasn't moving fast enough to
suit Miss Adler. "That's enough buttons girl, now slip off your precious
skirt and give it to me, you can have it back at the end of the lesson, and
thank me for being generous!" These sharp words popped Catherine's bubble
of detachment and in a flood she became acutely aware of everything around
her.  Her face felt like it was on fire as she placed her hand on her hips
and began to slide the skirt downward.  Though her mind was screaming at
her to get it over quickly, in the same way we are told to remove a
sticking-plaster with one sharp pull to lessen the pain, she couldn't will
her arms to do it.  The soft glide of the skirt over her hips and buttocks
seemed to take an eternity.  First her blouse pulled free of the waistband
- because it was rumpled and bunched from being hastily tucked in, it hung
no lower than the small of her back and her bellybutton, doing nothing to
help shield her modesty.  The cute dimple of her navel was the first thing
to be revealed followed by an ever-widening band of smooth, gently-sloping
stomach.  The tiny freckles that dotted her tummy made the skin seem
somehow even more naked and vulnerable. .....Catherine's mind, perhaps
seeking escape from contemplating her current situation, suddenly conjured
up an old memory of the time shortly after she arrived at the Cronenberg,
when the other girls in the dorm, Emma included, held her down on her bed
and told her they were going to perform "tickle torture" on her.  When they
pulled up her blouse to expose her tummy, the creamy skin quivering from
uncontrollable giggles, they laughed with delight at the smattering of
freckles across the soft expanse.  To Catherine's horror one girl
laughingly suggested they play "Join the dots" to which the others agreed,
and out of nowhere it seemed a bunch of felt-tip pens appeared.  The girls
decided to see how many rude words they could form by joining up the
innocent freckles on Catherine's tummy.  They were very good at it, and by
the end she was gasping for breath from the feeling of the firm nibs across
her sensitive skin, and to her shame her stomach was covered with dozens of
words that Catherine wouldn't have admitted to evenknowing! It was a long
time before they faded, and that week Catherine was mortified that the gym
teacher would discover them and make her walk around with her midriff bare
for everyone to see!..... Catherine thought she could feel the tips of
those pens once more crawling over her stomach as it was slowly revealed to
the watching class.  At the rear, the top of her skirt now began to ride
the firm curve of her bottom, lower and lower, until in the middle a gentle
valley appeared, quickly narrowing to form the tight crease between her
buttocks.  Catherine skin was now damp with nervous perspiration, and in
the small of her back a tiny bead of sweat broke free and trickled down
between her cheeks making her ass twitch involuntarily.  She wished she
didn't know what was happening, but even without looking, the brushing of
her skirt over her skin told her exactly how much she was revealing.  At
the front the skirt now hung very low, lower than the skimpiest panties,
until inevitably the first wisps of reddish hair peeked above the grey
material.  Catherine heard gasps from boy and girl alike and bit back more
tears.  Her worst dreams were coming true as more and more of her immature
bush was revealed to full view.  She found herself wishing she could have a
thick growth of dark hair down there like Emma's, anything to make her feel
less naked.  For she knew that those standing close enough would easily be
able to make out the cleft of her vaginal lips beneath her fair hair.
Catherine's arms were now straight down by her sides, having slid the skirt
as far as she could.  She was now forced to bend at the waist to slide it
the last few inches, giving a full moon to those standing behind her,
though thankfully concealing her pussy, however briefly, in shadows.  Her
skin now glistened with perspiration, and the pale cheeks of her ass
gleamed in the bright lights of the studio, as they were gradually
uncovered.  As it finally made it past the swell of her buttocks, her skirt
at last slid free of her fingers and dropped to the floor.  Trying
desperately to ignore the people around her, Catherine stepped to the side
and squatted down to retrieve the skirt.  Then from behind her came a soft,
low whistle - impossible to know who gave it.  At once the indignity of
Catherine -(TM)s pose crashed home to her, and flowing from her neck down,
like a sunset, a scarlet flush crept over her entire body.  Spurred to
action she swiftly straightened with the skirt in hand, walked over and
gave it to Miss Adler.  She still didn't trust herself to speak, but was
finally able to tug down the rumpled tails of her blouse in an attempt to
cover herself.  Even though the blouse was a little large, it couldn't hang
low enough to give Catherine more than the barest feeling of relief. 
Shorter than the shortest micro-mini, it skimmed the bottom of her
ass-cheeks and barely made it below the lowest tufts of her pubic hair, and
this was while standing stock-still.  She knew that every time she moved
she would be treating the class to teasing glimpses of her private flesh,
but at least she wasn't completely exposed all the time.  Tapping
never-before found reservoirs of strength, Catherine attempted to compose
herself and make the rest of the lesson as bearable as she could under
these circumstances.  She just hoped it would pass quickly! "Now, everybody
back to the lesson." Miss Adler resumed her instruction.  "Today we will
begin learning a new part of the ballroom dancer's repertoire, the Tango."
Excited murmurs greeted this announcement, the class was eager to move on.
Catherine however couldn't help feeling nervous.  She had only heard of the
Tango, never seen it, and she didn't know what it entailed, which only set
her worrying.  "James, join me and we will demonstrate." James was the only
one of the boys who had actually volunteered for the dancing lessons,
though really he didn't need them having trained from a young age, for
which his friends teased him at every opportunity.  Miss Adler usually
asked James to dance any new dance with her initially, to demonstrate the
steps to the others, which as the music began, they now did. Standing
almost nose to nose, the teacher and her student each clasped one arm out
straight to the side and placed the other on the small of their partners
back.  This stance was much closer than any of the dances the class had
learned previously.  Then at the prompting of the music, they faced to one
side, cheek-to-cheek and advanced in a graceful stalking stride across the
room, their hips touching, their legs brushing with each step.  Then as one
they swivelled an about face, switched arms and advanced the way they had
come.  When they returned to the place they began, James held out one arm,
spinning Miss Adler, before reeling her in to clasp her against himself. 
For the finale Miss Adler bent backwards over James' arm, while he stood
ramrod straight, holding her up.  This pose pressed their pelvises tightly
against each other, a fact that the boys whispered to each other with
excited glee.  The girls did the same, though with more blushes, and
professing that they didn't know if they could ever do something like
that! For Catherine of course, standing bare-legged in only her shirttails,
the reaction was quite different.  So many thoughts were crowding her head
she found it difficult to register them all.  Her first reaction was how
beautiful and full of passion the dance was; which led to thinking, despite
her shyness, how much she would have enjoyed dancing it with Brian before
his actions this lesson; which of course brought home to her exactly what
was going to happen here today!  In her minds eye she could see herself and
Brian replacing James and Miss Adler, parading across the room, she naked
from the waist down, their torsos pressed together, arms about each other's
waist....  It was too much!  She startled herself by letting out a little
mewling sound, like a kitten, at the thought of it.  Thankfully it was too
low for anyone to hear.  Even so she turned to look at Brian who had been
standing close beside her since her humiliation began, just in time to see
him mouth one word. "Jackpot!" He whispered as he watched the
demonstration end, his eyes wide and shining. 

   Miss Adler strode to the raised platform from which she supervised the
class, as James returned to his usual partner.  Clapping her hands she
addressed the assembled pupils. "Now, partners please, and we will begin
practice; Individually at first, one couple at a time, so we can all watch
and learn from each other's mistakes." Looking around the room, it was
obvious to Catherine that there was not enough time left to the lesson for
every couple to take a turn practising.  Hope clutched at her chest when
she thought she might not have to go through such an ordeal.  Surely Miss
Adler would not be so cruel as to choose her this time.  And next week she
would be fully clothed once more, with only the memory of her shame to
trouble her.  She could never bring herself to enjoy dancing with Brian
again, but hopefully this lesson she would be allowed to simply stand and
watch, and try to forget she was naked from the waist down. Miss Adler had
other ideas however.  Though she was a fair-minded teacher, when she handed
out punishment she saw to it that's exactly what a pupil received.  If this
girl chose to go around without panties, Miss Adler would show her just
what that entailed!  It never occurred to the teacher that Catherine's
panties had been confiscated as punishment.  At the Cronenberg stripping
was done from the outside, beginning with the blouse or skirt.  So to her
mind only Catherine could be responsible for her lack of underwear, and
deserved to be made an example of! "Catherine, Brian, you will begin.  Take
up the stance as you saw." If it been up to her alone, it is doubtful that
Catherine could have willed herself to move.  But, unable to completely
conceal his grin, Brian stepped up beside her, took her hand and moved to
lead her to the middle of the dance floor.  Before she could protest,
Catherine was pulled into motion, forced to stumble after her partner as he
set a quick pace to the open floor.  Those first few steps she was lucky to
keep her feet, before being made to trot after the boy and finally
regaining her balance.  Each swift movement caused the tails of her blouse
to swish and shimmy.  The buttons in front did not reach all the way to the
hem, leaving a gap of several inches which would flap open and closed as
she walked, providing tantalising glimpses of the treasure it barely
concealed.  Finally they stood face to face, apart from the rest of the
class.  Brian took her unresisting hand and held it out straight to the
side, and with breathless delight placed his other hand on the small of her
back, resting atop her blouse.  Catherine felt she had no choice but to
place her own arm about his waist.  Her heart fluttering, she tried to make
herself believe she was fully clothed, that this was a normal lesson.  Only
that way could she keep her composure. Already however, the boys and girls
observing the pair were left in no doubt as to Catherine's true state of
attire.  The combination of her outstretched arm, and Brian's hand pressing
the blouse to her back, had raised the hem of the garment several crucial
inches.  From behind, the twin mounds of Catherine's firm bottom peeked
from beneath the blouse, and it was apparent to all that this was only a
taste of what was to come.  A subtle change had taken over the class, the
boys and girls standing closer to each other than they normally would, many
holding hands, a heightened colour in their cheeks.  They all waited,
though the girls at least would not have admitted it, in bright-eyed
anticipation of the upcoming spectacle. All too soon the music began. 
Brian's head snapped to the side, and Catherine followed suit, determined
to give of her best despite her shameful condition.  As they turned to
begin the dance however, Catherine felt her blouse draw up over her bottom,
exposing fully half her ass.  Her concentration shattered, she lost the
rhythm and what should have been a graceful stride became an awkward
scurry. Any hope of Catherine's that this would be a brief exercise was
quenched when she heard Miss Adler call them to halt.  Though they had
stopped Brian did not release her from his arms.  When the dance began he
had taken the opportunity to gather more of her blouse in his hand and now
the hem did not drop back into place even when they were still. "No no no
girl, where's your rhythm, your poise?  - Like this!" So saying, the
teacher forced the couple's arms out straighter, turned their heads roughly
to one side and placing a hand on each of their backs, forced their bodies
together.  Brian gave a grunt, as Catherine felt something press against
her pelvis, and she realised with horror what the bulge was. 
His THING was touching her!  Right between her legs!  And her small
breasts were now squashed against his chest.  Just then the music began
again, and in her shock Catherine found the grace she had lacked.  Moving
swiftly forward she struggled to hold onto herself despite the insistent
messages battering at the walls of her concentration.  She was aware of how
revealing the long strides she was forced to take were to everyone.  She
was painfully conscious of her hip and torso pressing against her
partner's. Her only consolation was that Brian was shielding most of her
front, making it difficult for anyone to see her pussy.  That thought
almost made her clasp him even closer. All of a sudden Miss Adler called
"Turn!" and with a dancer's discipline, Catherine's body responded.  A
distant part of her mind screamed when, as they changed hands, she felt
Brian placed his hand on her back UNDER her blouse!  His hand felt like a
spider on her bare flesh as it crept downward from the small of her back
until it rested on the swells of her buttocks, and she realised that her
blouse was now raised up above her ass, above her bellybutton, as when she
first removed her skirt.  Only now she was parading back and forth under
the unblinking eyes of her classmates.  Catherine now imagined she could
feel those eyes crawling on her skin, tickling.  Her sense of touch seemed
to have been magnified a thousand fold, she felt the swish of her legs as
she paced the floor, the warmth of her hip against Brian's, the cool air
against her burning skin as they danced, her firm breasts moving against
the boy's body.  Again Miss Adler called "Turn!" and as she did Catherine
once more felt Brian's bulge against her midriff.  The poor girl was in a
state of complete confusion, only her natural instincts kept her moving in
time to the music.  In her feverish state an unfamiliar tingling began to
be felt in her loins.  She was strangely conscious of the sensations coming
from her nipples, which now seemed to be standing up, though she was not at
all cold.  To her eternal shame and terror it dawned on the young girl that
she was becoming aroused.  The incongruousness of the feeling amazed her;
she didn't feel in the least bit sexy!  But the physical sensation was
unrelenting, her heart was beating wildly, her skin flushed and damp, her
breathing quick.  "Oh please let this end soon!" she thought. But again
Miss Adler called the turn, and there was no hope for Catherine.  With each
sweeping stride she now felt her pussy lips parting and rubbing, the smooth
scissoring of her legs sending a constant flood of unwelcome stimulation.
Her nipples, now at their stiffest, sending signals with every small
movement against Brian's torso.  Her ponytail, whose length she was so
proud of, now became her nemesis as the feathery ends tickled the tops of
her bare bottom-cheeks in a maddening caress.  Her eyes tight shut against
her shame, Catherine's tears leaked down her cheeks even so.  All at once
Miss Adler called "And...  Finish!" and like a rag doll Catherine allowed
herself to be spun out, flashing her charms to everyone present, and then
crushed against Brian's body, to finally hang limp in his arms, her loins
ground against his "thing" - seeming like a log against her hyper-sensitive
flesh.  Catherine now began to shudder with relief; finally she thought it
was over.  She straightened as Brian released her, and stepped back.  He
took the opportunity to get a good look between her legs, then looked at
his own crotch -- "Jeez!! What have you done to my PANTS??" He called out
loudly.  Causing everyone around to study the front of his trousers. 
Catherine began to shake her head in horror as she saw that the boy -(TM)s
crotch was smeared with streaks of clear, sticky fluid.  With trepidation
she looked down at herself and nearly screamed at what she saw.  The
normally wispy curls of her pubic hair were now matted and glistening with
her own juices, the outer lips of her vagina were parted lewdly to reveal
the ruby flesh within and her little clitoris, normally so shy, was now
brazenly peeking from beneath his hood.  Evidence of her unwilling
excitement became apparent to everyone in the room.  Even the tops of her
inner thighs were slick and gleaming.  In the final clinch of the Tango she
had rubbed this mess all over Brian's school trousers!  Catherine put her
hands over her face and wept, moaning "No, no...  It isn't true." trying to
convince herself as much as her friends and classmates.  Shielding her
eyes did not completely block out awareness of her situation however, as
her nose could now detect the strong musky scent of her arousal, and she
knew it would also reach the noses of those nearest to her.  Shocked
giggles and scandalised laughter now arose around the room from boys and
girls alike.  Even Emma found she could not contain her amazement, tinged
with wicked glee.  Her eyes sparkled and a nervous grin split her face as
she witnessed this transformation in her best friend.  The laughter died
however when Miss Adler strode down from the dais to appear in their midst.
The stern teacher took in the sight of the 15-year-old girl covered in her
own sexual juices without batting an eyelid.  But inwardly she was
seething. Rather than being chastened by her ordeal, this hussy appeared to
have revelled in the exposure.  She was evidently some kind
of exhibitionist! To the instructor -(TM)s no-nonsense outlook, gaining
sexual gratification from nudity was as bad as excessive modesty.  Why
couldn't these children think of their bodies as natural?  She marched over
to her own bag and returned with a handful of tissues, which she thrust at
Catherine, hissing: "Clean yourself up girl, you -(TM)re a disgrace!" And
so, the shyest, most modest pupil at the Cronenberg School for Girls took
the proffered tissues and began to wipe away the traces of her shame,
surrounded on all sides by girls and boys her own age, who drank in the
spectacle without mercy.  Shuffling her feet apart she began with her
thighs, mopping up the moisture her traitorous body had produced.  Cringing
with embarrassment, she found she had to bend forward and splay her legs
even wider to reach all the liquid between her thighs, before moving on to
the sticky red curls of her pussy hair.  As she rubbed her most intimate
area in an attempt to clear up the worst of the mess, she kept her head
down, trying to shut out the presence of those crowding round her.  So she
hardly registered what her teacher was now saying. "Since your punishment
so far seems to have left little impression on your conscience, we shall
see if losing your blouse is enough to bring you to your senses.  I have
never known a girl so shameless Catherine, you may be sure the Headmistress
shall hear about this!" Catherine nodded dumbly as she continued to wipe
her pubic fuzz free of her fluids with the now soggy tissues.  Her mind
refusing to acknowledge the action she was being made to perform before her
peers.  In her self-pity, the fact that she was still wearing her sexy new
bra had completely slipped her mind. Out of the corner of her eye,
Catherine saw Emma whispering something in her partner Roger's ear.  For
some reason his eyes lit up like he'd just heard next week's winning
lottery numbers......



   ROOMMATES

   "Hushush, it -(TM)s all right.  Catherine, it's ok, hush now." In the
velvet twilight of the early morning, Emma sat on her best friend's bed,
cradling her in her arms.  She had woken to find her friend in the throes
of another nightmare, which had afflicted her several times since her
dancing-class ordeal a couple of weeks ago.  Now Emma held her tight,
rocking her gently back and forth and stroking her long red hair to soothe
the frightened girl and to slow the sobs that shook her slender frame.
Emma's throat was thick with her own tears of sympathy as she remembered
her best friend's humiliation that day, which had seemed to escalate
mercilessly without hope of ending.  She vividly recalled the look on
Catherine's face when, after being forced to wipe her groin clean of her
own girlish juices in front of an unblinking crowd, she began to slowly
unbutton her blouse as ordered, and finally recalled the nature of the bra
she wore beneath.  By then though, it was too late, and when Miss Adler
caught sight of the satin-and- lace confection her face had grown as dark
as thunder.  In an icy voice the outraged dance instructor had told poor
Catherine to remove the non-uniform bra also. So the lovely girl, who Emma
knew was nervous even when getting changed for gym, was made to reveal her
jutting young breasts to the avid class, who devoured the sight of the
creamy, freckled skin topped by a pair of rose-pink nipples - more crinkled
and erect than Emma had ever previously seen them.  Now entirely naked,
save for her white knee-length socks and black dancing shoes, Catherine had
remained that way for the remainder of the lesson, whilst the rest of the
class watched each other practising the Tango.  Though it was Catherine, of
course, who was the true subject of their intense scrutiny.  Emma recalled
how she had stood, tall and silent, with her chin held high and a strangely
calm, almost serene expression on her face as she seemingly managed to
ignore those around her.  Emma had once more been struck by her friend's
beauty, as she had been that morning when Catherine modelled the lingerie
that was to cause her so much grief. When the bell at last sounded the end
of the lesson and the school day, Catherine's clothes, minus the bra, had
been returned to her.  Surprising everyone, the girl had not hurriedly
snatched them to cover herself or begun dressing in panicky haste; With the
whole class watching, she had calmly folded her clothing over one arm, and
walked naked out of the door. As one, the remaining boys and girls moved to
the tall windows to watch the girl emerge outside, and stride gracefully
away across the campus lawns, her nude body bathed in the rays of afternoon
sun.  Entranced by the smooth play of muscle in her buttocks and thighs as
she walked in golden light, the whole class saw Catherine reach up one hand
to unbind her ponytail and shake loose her long mane of hair until it
cascaded down her back like a curtain of flame.  Emma did not know where
her friend had found the strength to conquer her acute embarrassment and
put forth such a display of beauty and dignity, transforming the mocking
laughter of her peers into open-mouthed stares of awe.  But as she watched
the now-distant figure enter the doors of the dormitory building, she felt
grateful, and proud that Catherine had managed to salvage some small
victory for herself. ...Emma found her later, slumped against the door to
their room, still naked and crying quietly.  It seemed that Mrs Clare had
been true to her word and locked the room until the evening, and once
alone, Catherine's self-possession had leaked away.  After sitting beside
her and sharing a few tears, Emma helped her friend get dressed and taking
her hands, pulled her to her feet.  Persuading a sympathetic neighbour to
move down to the common-room for a few hours, the two friends sat alone in
her room, their arms about each other, one consoling the other, until they
were able to return to their own; where Catherine had slumped upon her bed
and fallen quickly into a deep sleep. Since that day, Emma had been amazed
at her friend's recovery.  Though more subdued than before, Catherine's
calm demeanour seemed to provide her with the strength she needed to make
it through the difficult days that followed.  Taunts and jibes visibly
distressed her, but thankfully there were fewer of these than Emma might
have feared.  Now the only sign of how deeply affected her friend was by
her ordeal were the nightmares, such as this one, that occasionally caused
her to thrash and moan in her sleep. As Emma murmured soothing words,
Catherine grew calmer and more sleepy, her head pillowed on Emma's soft
breast.  Looking down Emma saw that Catherine's nightshirt had become
bunched about her waist during her struggles with the bad dream, her smooth
rump appearing milky-white in the pale moonlight.  Tenderly, though her
friend would never know, Emma smoothed the shirt over Catherine's rear to
protect her modesty, before gently laying her down and drawing the covers
up about her shoulders.  Satisfied that her best friend was once more
sleeping softly, Emma returned to her own bed and lay down, lost in her own
thoughts. In her heart, Emma knew that part of her concern for her best
friend's feelings grew from a deep sense of guilt...  She could not forget
how, at the time when Catherine was suffering the worst humiliation of her
life, Emma's own emotions had been running high.  She recalled with shame
how tightly she clutched Roger's hand, her breast pushing against his upper
arm.  The two of them tense and bright-eyed at the unfolding spectacle. 
Though she knew her best friend was innocent, that Brian had to have been
hiding a mirror somewhere on his person, she hadn't spoken up in
Catherine's defence, hadn't even tried to help her.  Instead, when she
realised the dance instructor was about to discover Catherine's new bra and
take that from her too, she had whispered this to Roger in advance like a
piece of juicy gossip, pleased at the way his eyes had lit up in
anticipation.  She told herself she had been caught up in the mood of the
crowd, that there was nothing she could have done to stop the events from
running their course, but that didn't soften the sharp sting of remorse. 
Not having the courage to confess her feeling on that day, Emma knew the
only way she could make it up to her friend was to take special care of
her, and make sure she protected her from such embarrassment in the future.
With these thoughts in mind, Emma herself drifted into gentle sleep until
the morning....



   EMMA -(TM)S STORY ****************************************** For
Catherine and Emma, standing with the throng of uniformed girls milling
outside the school's main entrance, any opportunity of venturing off-campus
was a thing to be savoured.  Being boarders, the two girls did not go home
at the end of a school day, but lived in rooms on campus.  Although the
grounds were beautiful, and there was a T.V.  room and other entertainment,
after a while anyone would begin to thirst for a change of scene.  Even
most boarding pupils got to go home every weekend or so, but both Catherine
and Emma lived sufficiently far away to make this impossible, which was one
reason they became such close friends.  Now as they waited by the hired
coach for their teacher Mr Griffin to arrive, Catherine chattered excitedly
to Emma about the museum exhibition they were going to be visiting that
day. Caught up in her friend -(TM)s enthusiasm, Emma was happy to see her
so animated; more so than she had been since before the dancing-class
incident had damaged her fragile confidence.  She hoped that this break
from the familiar walls of the school would be a breath of fresh air to
help Catherine shed some bad memories.  Emma tried to tune in on what her
friend was saying -- "....and Mr griffin says that some of the exhibits are
from around 4000B.C.  - that's nearly 6000 years ago!  I didn't even know
there *were* any people back then!" Emma smiled at her friend's bubbling
eagerness, until a snide voice spoke up sharply behind them. "Don't
get too excited Ginger, you know what happened last time!" With a
shocked gasp Catherine's hand clutched herself between her legs -
remembering the shame of her quite obvious and copious arousal during
Miss Adler -(TM)s Dance lesson - as if the girl's cruel words could somehow
have become reality.  This involuntary reaction caused mocking laughter to
arise from the tight knot of girls centred around one called Jessica,
blonde and willowy, she possessed a spiteful meanness and was always
accompanied by a group of those who mistook meanness for strength.  The
name "Ginger" was a reference to Ginger Rodgers, which had quickly become
Catherine's nickname among Jessica's type, due to her exploits on the dance
floor they laughingly said, as well as a low reference to the colour of her
pubic hair.  "See girls  -" she -(TM)s feeling horny already!" More
laughter. Emma however wasn't amused as she saw her friends chin trembling
to hold back tears. "Watch your mouth, you Bitch!" she hissed, outraged
that someone could inflict such casual wounds on someone so vulnerable.
"Oh please.." replied Jessica and turned away, as if Emma's threat was
beneath her notice.  Glancing at Catherine, who in her embarrassment had
not remembered to remove her hand from her crotch, Emma knew she could not
let this girl get away with hurting her friend.  Without emitting any cry
she leapt at Jessica and shoved the startled girl off her feet.  Jessica
landed on her rump, her skirt flying up to bare the crotch of her white
panties.  Glaring daggers at Emma, she covered herself and made to launch
herself at the raven-haired girl.  But glancing beyond her foe, her warlike
expression suddenly changed into one of trepidation.  With a sinking heart
Emma guessed what the recumbent girl had seen. "I was under the impression
that this was a school for young ladies." Spoke the sudden voice of Mr
Griffin, with dry annoyance "Nowhere do I remember hearing that it was the
custom of young ladies to engage in common brawls.  Until you can behave
with proper decency, you shall not have the privilege of decent attire.  Am
I understood?" "Yes, Mr Griffin." The two girls mumbled in unison.  Though
unsure of the specifics, they each had a pretty good idea of what was
coming. "You will both surrender your blouses, they will be returned when
we get back to the school this afternoon." The teacher paused to look at
his watch.  "Since we are short of time you must undress on the bus and see
that the items are passed back down to me, understood?  Now, Everybody on
board!" Making her way down the aisle of the bus Emma's heart began to
quicken at the thought of her imminent disrobing.  Though not uncommonly
shy, she was more than a littleself-conscious about her breasts -- Their
size, large for her age, had attracted frequent teasing comments in the
showers after gym.  Consequently Emma tried never to draw attention to her
impressive chest, wearing baggy clothes, and too-large blouses during
school.  This had the unfortunate side-effect of concealing her tiny waist,
making Emma appear heavier than she was in truth, which she didn't really
mind as long as her large boobs weren't too apparent.  Now however, about
to be one of only two girls stripped to their bras among nearly thirty
other fully clothed pupils, Emma knew her chest was about to be the centre
of attention.  The fact that they would shortly be heading into town had
yet to fully sink in, as she stooped to take her seat. "Wait, I'll sit by
the window, you'd be better sitting in the aisle seat." Startled by the
first words Catherine had spoken since Jessica's spiteful remark, Emma soon
saw the sense of it.  She certainly didn't want to be sitting next to the
large window - the sill of which only came as high as a seated person
-(TM)s waist - clad in only her bra!  Gratefully she took the aisle seat
next to Catherine, and with a deep breath began to undress. After
unbuttoning her blazer - she had a tough time removing it while sitting
down before folding it and placing it in her lap - she whisked off her tie
and did likewise.  Acutely aware of several eyes upon her, Emma took a
moment to steel her nerves. "Ok, you're just getting changed for Gym" she
tried to tell herself as, beginning with the collar, she nevertheless undid
the buttons of her blouse with slow reluctance.  -- --..The first button to
be undone reveals the smooth hollow at the base of her swanlike throat,
which flexes as she swallows nervously. The next uncovers the graceful
ridges of her collarbone, slender and fragile-seeming. The gap between her
blouse widens slightly to merely hint at the sloping contours of her chest
- though it is clear their discovery is imminent.  Her warm skin is white
as porcelain, unblemished as new-fallen snow - the white cotton blouse now
seeming dishcloth-grey next to what it had concealed. With the next button
a valley forms, soft-swelling hills on either side; they gently rise and
fall in time with her breathing. The next, the valley deepens into curving
shadow, it's smooth walls formed by twin mounds of sweetly-scented flesh.
On undoing the next button, white cotton moves aside to reveal white cotton
beneath, the material of her bra concealing the further mysteries of her
young bosom. Past this intimate garment lies more hidden flesh as another
button reveals the milky softness of her stomach. Now the tails of the
blouse are pulled from the waist of her grey skirt, the last button is
undone, and the blouse falls away to uncover her deep, exquisite navel, and
what was until now a narrow gap down the middle of her slim torso widens to
reveal the full splendour of her upper body.  Her delicate waist, the
subtle mound of her tummy, the almost-hidden contours of her ribs beneath
the perfect symmetry of her chest. The last of the blouse is shrugged aside
to reveal smooth white shoulders of expressive beauty, and slips freely
down two graceful arms -- -- "Damn," thought Emma as she tried to slip the
shirt off her arms, "I forgot the cuffs!" Her arms now effectively bound
behind her back, hands trapped in the narrow, turned-out sleeves, Emma
began struggling to free herself.  Each tug of her wrists, each shrug of
her pale shoulders caused her newly-exposed chest to jiggle and shimmy
within her bra, eliciting smiles and laughter from those girls who had
turned to watch her comply with Mr Griffin's instructions.  Due to the
confined quarters, Catherine could not do much to help her friend. 
Blushing a delicate pink from the ridiculousness of her position, Emma was
confounded, until arching her back (which caused her to thrust out her
chest, her breasts swelling magnificently against the confines of her bra,
allowing the outline of her soft nipples to be briefly defined through the
white cotton), she managed to get her fingers to one of the cuff buttons,
freeing one arm and then the other.  Breathing heavily from her exertions
she was ashamed to hear applause from those around her, and joking approval
of her skills as an escape artist.  When one girl observed that Emma had
nearly escaped from her bra, everyone laughed, and Emma wished she were a
million miles away. Summoning up her courage, she handed her bundle of
clothes to the person in front, and watched as it was passed hand over hand
towards the front of the bus, feeling very much as if a vital safety line
was slipping out from between her fingers.  The rumble of the bus' engine
as it started sounded to her like ominous thunder, she was no longer
looking forward to this trip to the city. Across the aisle another bundle
of clothes began its journey to the front of the bus.  Folding her arms
under her small breasts, Jessica narrowed her eyes, determined to see that
Emma lived to regret getting her into trouble - regret it deeply! Changing
gear, the bus turned out of the school gates and began the journey into the
city. ****************************************** As the coach pulled up to
the entrance of the museum, Emma's feelings of trepidation, which had been
mounting since they left the school, reached their peak.  Up till now
though it hadn't been so bad, on the freeway into town they had been
travelling fast, and being in an aisle seat, she didn't think anyone
outside could have seen her.  Now though she could see the city streets
were busy with pedestrians, and she finally realised how different her
situation was from most punishments she had witnessed.  She was far from
the safety of the Cronenberg School campus, where such things were almost
accepted as normal.  Today it wouldn't only be her fellow pupils seeing her
dressed in only her bra and skirt, but complete strangers - men and women
of all ages! The hiss of the door opening made Emma jump, and in an eager
tide her classmates began to pour off the bus.  In the midst of her panic,
Emma felt a hand slip into hers and give a gentle squeeze.  Turning she saw
Catherine give her a reassuring smile, and Emma felt ashamed of her fear
when she recalled how much worse Catherine's ordeal had been.  Compared to
that, losing one's blouse was nothing really - no matter who saw you.  
--So she tried to tell herself as she disembarked. She was unprepared for
the chill, which met her as she emerged onto the sidewalk however.  Though
the clear spring morning had lost some of it's earlier briskness, the crisp
air raised goosebumps on her bare flesh, and it was only now she was
standing in the open that she realised how much bare flesh there was! 
Her white-cotton bra held her large bosom well, but it was not a sports
bra, and did not do much to conceal her impressive cleavage and the upper
swell of her breasts.  Looking down she saw that her skirt, without having
the bulk of her blouse tucked into it, was no longer snug about her waist,
and loose, it hung much lower - exposing much of her smooth stomach which
trembled with her chattery breathing.  Indeed, only her flaring hips
prevented her skirt sliding any lower and falling to the ground! 
Unfortunately this skirt had been chosen for Emma to "grown into", and as
such would not button any tighter than it was, she would just have to put
up with it riding her hips, not much higher than a hula skirt!  Despite the
chill wind, her skin was damp with nervous perspiration, which made her
shiver all the more. In the edges of her vision, Emma was aware of people
passing by turning their heads to stare at her with expressions of amused
disbelief.  The fifteen-year-old girl was mortified at being the centre of
such unwelcome scrutiny.  She knew it was her boobs that were the focus of
their stares.  Her hourglass figure - unusual for a girl her age - now
revealed to anyone who cared to look.  She bet Jessica's boyish frame was
not attracting nearly so much attention.  Looking over to where the
spiteful blonde was standing, Emma was chagrined to see that Jessica stood
in the centre of a circled formed by her cronies, who surrounded her like a
group of Secret Service agents, preventing anyone from getting a good look.
Emma, not being so popular, was left exposed to the gazes of all comers, as
well as the biting wind. The cold was also affecting Emma's nipples, making
them hard and achy, a fact which was not lost on the girls around her, as
they formed twin bumps which showed clearly through the material of her
bra. She was unaware of this added humiliation until someone called it to
her attention with the words: "Hey Emma, don't you know it's rude to
point?" As laughter burst out all around her, Emma saw to her shame how her
nipples stood proudly revealing their contours through her bra.  With a
squeak she cupped her hands to her breasts to conceal them and tried to
will the erect tips to softness, thinking maybe the warmth of her palms
would relieve some of the cold's pinching. "Hsst!  You're covering up!"
whispered Catherine in a warning tone.  Looking at her friend, Emma was
momentarily confused by her words until she remembered one of the
Cronenberg School's cardinal rules regarding punishments - No Covering Up.
Clothing penalties were meant to be endured without complaint, and any
attempt to lessen or conceal one's exposure was seen as an attempt to
escape punishment and only brought further penalties.  It was vital
therefore not to even look like you might be trying to cover yourself. 
Her heart in her mouth, Emma looked over to Mr Griffin.  Fortunately he had
his back to her, and was beginning to lead the group into the museum. 
Nevertheless Emma forced herself to remove her hands from her chest, her
nipples no less stiff, and let them hang loosely by her sides as she
mounted the steps to enter the museum.
****************************************** The marbled interior of the
building was only marginally less cold than outside, and the echoey-quiet
solemnity of the Museum made Emma feel even more exposed - like being naked
in church.  As the teacher led the class to the exhibits he wished them to
see, Emma was aware of whispered comments and gasps of amazement from the
people they passed - all kinds of people: a couple in their twenties, the
girl elbowing her partners ribs when she saw him staring; a group of
university students, the teenage boys and girls laughing at her distress;
even an old priest whose, eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling when he saw her -
Emma tried to ignore them all. Out on the street people -(TM)s stares had
at least been brief, as they hurried by to wherever they were going.  In
this large open-plan building however, they wandered around her slowly on
all sides, pretending to study the exhibits whilst all the time directing
avid glances at the poor half-dressed innocent.  It continued while Mr
Griffin began lecturing the class on prehistory, and Emma found it
impossible to concentrate on his words.  She felt as if she were an exhibit
herself, on display for all the visitors.  She had to grip her skirt in an
effort to prevent herself from clutching at her body.  Hanging her head she
wished the visit could be over soon so they could return to the School,
heartbroken that this day she had looked forward to was now so unbearable.
With her head down, she no longer had to see the insistent stares of those
around her, but her vision was now filled by the sight of her own
magnificent bosom, hammering home awareness of her denuded state.  The bra
she wore seemed so much smaller than she remembered it, and she hadn't
ever thought the stiff buds of her nipples could show through the material
so much! Emma felt a moment -(TM)s hurt when she looked to Catherine for
reassurance and found her friend engrossed in listening to the teacher. 
Selfishly she felt a little betrayed that Catherine was enjoying herself,
and had seemingly forgotten her.  Feeling very alone, she tried to blot out
her surroundings in an effort to make the time pass more quickly, and it
seemed to work as they moved from exhibit to exhibit; Emma following on
autopilot - the teacher's voice little more than background noise; until
she was pulled back to reality when a girl - one of Jessica's friends -
said to her: "Don't look now, but you've got a fan club." and flicked her
eyes upwards. Looking up, Emma was horrified to see dozens of people lining
the railings of the upper floor balcony that looked down on where the class
stood.  Mainly composed of college students, some of whom she'd seen
earlier, they waved and blew kisses when they saw her notice them.  She
realised that from their vantage-point they would have a spectacular view
of her generous cleavage, and there was no way to turn to avoid their eyes.
Her own eyes blurring, she lowered her gaze she tried to blot them out but
the knowledge of their constant stares wouldn't go away -- The rest of the
visit passed tortuously slowly for Emma as she was dragged around the
museum, until at last they were once more gathered in the lobby.  Mr
Griffin told them to wait there while he went to check whether the bus had
arrived.  Emma started to move over to join Catherine again when she felt a
tug at her foot.  Looking down she saw that someone had stepped on her lace
and it had become undone.  What she didn't know was that it had been one of
Jessica's gang, nor did she realise they had closed behind her as she bent
to retie her lace.  Emma blushed when she saw how her crouched posture,
arms forward, displayed her cleavage more fully than ever to those passing,
and she hurried to finish tying. She didn't move fast enough however.  For
behind her Jessica, taking advantage of the teacher's absence, carefully
placed her foot on the trailing hem of Emma's skirt and reaching down, with
a deft flick of her fingers unsnapped the clasp of Emma's bra.  The back
straps sprang apart like a slingshot, and Emma felt the cups loosen their
tight hold on her tits.  The shoulder straps, with the sudden loss of
tension, slipped off her shoulders and because of the way she was bent
over, the bra fell away from her chest and hung by its straps from her
elbows.  With a shriek that turned everyone's heads toward her, she leapt
to her feet clutching her bare breasts, the creamy flesh spilling out all
over as she mashed both arms to her chest.  What's more, with Jessica's
weight firmly on the hem of her skirt, that sudden upward bound had caused
it to be tugged down past her hips until the waistband was pulled tight
around the fullness of Emma's bottom, the buttons strained to bursting. 
Mercifully the seams held and the skirt's hem was dragged free from under
Jessica's foot, but it was small consolation.  If the item had previously
resembled a hula skirt, now it was positively indecent! Under dozens of
shocked and delighted stares, Emma found herself in a quandary.  With her
bra hopelessly entangled in her arms, the only way to get it back on would
mean uncovering her breasts while she rearranged it.  Worse, she could feel
that the tight band of her skirt had rucked her panties down along with it.
From the feel of cool air on her skin, she could tell that perhaps two or
three inches of the deep crease between her bottom cheeks was on display,
her firm flesh bulging against the constriction of the straining waistband.
She was conscious that if she flexed her buttocks too strongly in moving,
she would surely pop the buttons and lose the skirt completely! Unable to
face such a prospect, Emma remained slightly hunched over in frozen agony
while all those around her laughed and pointed.  Looking down past the
tangle of arms, brassiere and titflesh, she was horrified to see that her
skirt rode so low in front it was barely higher than her pubic mound! 
Indeed she could make out the first, downiest hairs of her dark bush
peeking above the grey material.  She prayed no-one else could make them
out, but still the whole of her lower tummy and the beginning creases where
her thighs met her hips were visible to everyone present.  The most
terrible thing is she was incapable of doing anything about it!  To move
her arms meant showing off her breasts, and she couldn't even walk away her
skirt was so tight!  She was going to have to stay like this forever!...
The flash of a camera bulb made her flinch, and it was followed by more. 
Closing her eyes she bit her lip and tried to stop the tears from coming.
Until she felt someone gently drawing the bra straps up her arms -- Opening
her eyes she watched mutely as Catherine began to straighten out her bra,
lifting Emma's arms slightly to free the bunched material, her knuckles
gently brushing against the soft flesh of Emma's bosom.  After a little
tugging the cups were once more loosely in place over her mounds, and as
Catherine moved behind her to fasten her clasp, still without saying a
word, Emma felt pathetically grateful to her friend.  She had to breathe in
deeply, and squeeze her backside tight, and even then she needed
Catherine's help to tug her skirt back up around her waist.  There were
some amused boos and jeers before the crowd of onlookers finally broke up.
The skirt felt looser than ever after it's punishment, but as low as it
might hang, Emma was grateful for it to be even that high!  To her
dismay, she could feel that under her skirt, her panties were still rolled
down nearly past her ass.  Trying to be inconspicuous about it, she pinched
at her panties through the material of her skirt, and with small movements
managed to tug and straighten until the panties once more covered her as
they should.  It was as she was smoothing her skirt over her hips and rear
that Mr Griffin returned and told them the bus was indeed waiting, and they
should follow him. "I need to use the bathroom, wait for me on the bus."
said Catherine and gave her best friend a hug.  "It's going to be OK" she
whispered in Emma's ear before walking off.  As she boarded the bus Emma
realised her friend was right, it was nearly over now - she had endured her
punishment and though it would take her a long time to live it down, soon
they would be returning to the school.  As she reached her seat Emma
realised she would have to wait for Catherine to return so she could sit in
the window seat again for the return journey.  Soon however she was the
only girl standing, and drew the eye of Mr Griffin. "Don't stand about
talking Emma, get in your seat!" "But sir, Catherine sits in the window
seat, I...." "Nonsense!" Mr Griffin cut her off.  "One seat's like any
other.  Now sit down before I lose my patience!" Swallowing her protests
Emma slid into the window seat as another bus pulled into the parking space
beside theirs.  At that point Catherine and two other girls returned from
using the bathroom and Mr Griffin began to move down the bus conducting a
head count.  Smiling a mute apology to her friend Catherine had no choice
but to take the aisle seat.  Emma simply shrugged, trying to put a brave
face on this additional difficulty, and looked out of the window in an
attempt to distract herself.   --This proved to be a mistake. On the other
bus parked only a few feet away dozens of boys who looked to be about ten
or eleven years old were pressing their faces to the window and leering at
her!  Turning away with a shocked gasp, Emma could only sit and suffer
their insolent points and stares.  She looked to Mr Griffin hoping he'd
hurry his count so they could leave.  She heard drumming on the windows
from the other bus, and against her better judgement looked across.  To her
horror one of the boys was had drawn a skilful caricature of a half-naked
girl with enormous tits, obviously meant to be her, and was holding it up
to the window for her to see!  This cruel jibe was unbearable on top of all
her previous humiliation!  In her outrage, Emma's arm instinctively flew
across to cover her bra and she slapped another hand to her cleavage to
hide it from the ogling stares of the younger boys.  Trying to make herself
as small as possible, Emma felt Catherine nudging her with her elbow,
softly at first but with mounting urgency.  She looked at her friend in
confusion, and followed Catherine's urgent gaze, which turned to
trepidation as Mr Griffin reached their position in his head count.  He
looked down at Emma, and a frown darkened his face, his eyes flicked to the
window and back to her, growing only more stern.  Emma couldn't understand
what was wrong until a small voice in her head reminded her; "No covering
up!" Slowly she let her arms drop away from her sides, afraid to meet Mr
Griffin's eyes.  She knew however it was too late --.
************************************************ "Are you unhappy with the
penalty I gave you Emma?  Perhaps you seek to disagree with my decision? 
Have you taken it upon yourself to ameliorate your own punishment?" The
teacher seemed genuinely angry at what he saw as an attempt to thwart him.
One of the strictest teachers at the Cronenberg School, Mr Griffin applied
the school's punishment code fairly, as he saw it, but without mercy, and
he had no tolerance for anyone he thought was trying to bend the rules.
"No, Mr Griffin." If Emma hoped to soothe her teacher with a display of
meekness she was to be disappointed. "Since you are so adept at
circumventing punishment, we shall have to make it more difficult for you.
I think you can do without that brassiere." If the teacher said anything to
follow this statement, Emma didn't hear it.  The noise around her retreated
to a hollow underwater-murmur, her vision went fuzzy and her head swam with
sudden dizziness, it seemed hard for her to get enough breath and she
wondered calmly if she was going to faint.  She was brought back to
consciousness however by a mounting pain from her chest that pushed through
the fog of her detachment.  Looking down she was startled to find that she
was clutching her own breasts with both hands, and had been squeezing them
tightly through her bra, such was the subconscious terror she felt at the
thought of exposing them!  With an effort of will she unclenched her
fingers and quailed at the look of impatience on Mr Griffin's face. 
Avoiding his eyes, she involuntarily glanced out of the window.  Though the
boys on the other bus couldn't hear what the teachers had said, they were
aware that something was transpiring between him and the half-naked girl,
and they watched unblinking. Their vigil was rewarded as Emma, part of her
amazed at what she was doing, leaned forward in her seat and with trembling
hands, reached behind her back to release the clasp of her bra.  Once more
she felt the terrifying release of tension around her ribcage.  She heard
renewed drumming on the other coach's window and knew the snotty little
boys were drinking in the sight of her undressing.  Her mouth was dry with
fear, her skin misted with sweat.  Surely he wouldn't make her do this, she
thought; but afraid to delay she forced herself to draw the shoulder straps
down and off her arms until she merely held the cups in place.  However
much she tried to rationalise her impending deed, her traitorous mind
bombarded her with all the things she didn't want to think of: No male had
seen her naked since puberty wrought such drastic changes on her body, even
her family doctor was a middle-aged, maternal woman. She was not yet
comfortable about her new body shape, especially when all the girls in her
class seemed to have chests so much smaller than hers. At only fifteen, she
felt ashamed of her over-development, yet she knew it wasn't only
the size of her breasts that made their appearance unusual and
distinctive --. It was this thought that preyed most on her mind, as with a
drawn out shuddering breath she let her hands, and her bra fall uselessly
into her lap -- The full shape and perfect symmetry of the young girl's
unfettered breasts were now revealed to the covetous gazes of all present.
In the eyes of the girls immediately around her, there were a number of
different emotions.  Some felt pity for her plight, others a kind of
nervous amusement, some a vindictive glee.  One or two seemed annoyed at
her, and if Emma had been thinking clearly, she might have detected their
jealousy of her endowment, which would frankly have amazed her.  To those
girls who were not in Emma's Gym class, not to mention the male teacher
standing over her, and the score of young boys on the neighbouring bus,
there was an additional revelation which her bra had hitherto concealed;
public knowledge of which now caused Emma the deepest shame -- The circles
of darker skin around Emma's nipples were huge.  There was no other word
for them.  In mouth-watering contrast to the creamy-pale skin of her nude
upper body, her areolae (Emma had always thought that was a beautiful word)
were broad perfect circles of a milky chocolate colour, nearly covering the
face of each breast.  Sitting with her eyes closed in tearful denial, Emma
recalled the time shortly after she moved into the dorms, when the older
girls found out about her unusual nipples and forced her to stand against a
wall to have them measured.  The group of senior students had been
delighted at her acute embarrassment upon being told they each measured
over five inches in diameter.  Since then they had caused comment in any
girl who saw her naked, some teasing, some plainly fascinated, it was
another reason that the otherwise confident girl was so self-conscious
about her breasts, and now she sat where anyone who cared to look could see
her in all her glory.   --Far too many had already. Suddenly unable to sit
still any longer, Emma gathered up her bra and thrust it at the teacher
standing over her.  She quickly regretted her boldness, as leaning forward
with an arm outstretched caused her tits to sway freely with her movement.
She was briefly disconcerted to find Mr Griffin was indeed looking at her
breasts, but then he shook himself and took the proffered piece of
underwear without comment, before continuing to count the pupils on the
bus. Once the girls around her settled back into their seats, Emma realised
she hadn't heard any noise from the other bus since she removed her bra,
and in the same way someone compulsively picks at a scab even though they
know it's going to make it worse, she found herself forced to look across
at the other bus. It was obviously what they had been waiting for, as a
resounding cheer went up from them as well as massive applause.  Emma had
never felt so powerless in her life than under the eyes of those obnoxious
little perverts.  Then as the applause died away she found out that the
artist whose caricature had been responsible for her current situation had
not been idle since.  A new cartoon was held up to the window, showing her
charms in their newly revealed detail, each large areola carefully shaded
in.  What caused her the deepest dismay though was the accompanying caption
written in large letters across the top.  It was just one word:
"HEADLIGHTS!!" It was a horribly wicked reference to the great twin circles
of her nipples, and as laughter erupted all around her and girls craned to
look out the windows, Emma knew her other classmates hadn't missed it.  A
voice that could only belong to Jessica called out triumphantly: "Hey Emma,
I think you've got a new nickname!" and was rewarded with redoubled
laughter and what seemed like unanimous agreement.  She heard snatches of
other pupils still gleefully discussing the hurtful drawing: "You have to
hand it to that kid, he has talent!" "Yeah, but even Emma's tits
aren't that big." "Look, he's even signed it - what's it say?" "Looks
like 'Biker' or something.  Hey, D'you think he can draw men's bodies as
well as he drew Emma?" "Grace!  You're terrible!  You *would* think of
something like that..." The rumble of the buses' engine coming to life
thankfully drowned out the invasive conversations, but meant much more to
Emma, "At last," she thought, "We're going home!" The thought was like
a cool balm on her tortured nerves.  Ignoring the enthusiastic farewell
waves of the young boys (some of the other girls waved back) Emma felt
relief wash over her in waves as the bus pulled away.  Soon they were
moving at some speed down a clear road, and she permitted herself to start
relaxing.  Which is why she was only curious, not nervous when she saw Mr
Griffin stand up at the front of the coach and begin to address the group.
"Now girls, I have something of a surprise for you.  While we were in the
museum I learned that there is a "hands-on" science exhibition currently
open across town, it won't be here very much longer and I thought it might
be fun as well as educationally valuable for you to visit it.  There will
be lots of exciting things to see and do I'm sure.  I've had a word with
the driver and he's willing to take us the extra journey, so it looks like
you day trip has been extended!" A huge cheer rose up from the passengers
at this announcement and excited babbling broke out all over. Emma though
felt only confusion.  The trip was over - they were going back to school
now weren't they??  They were going back to school - they had to be.  They
HAD to be!!! WHY was Catherine looking at her with such deep sympathy???
*********************************************************** For Emma, the
bus ride across town seemed one long nightmare.  She thought she had been
distraught on the journey from school, when she at least had some vestige
of modesty, and had sat next to the aisle, and the bus had sped along the
freeway - mostly immune to outside eyes.  Now she was painfully aware of
how naive she had been, and how little she had previously tasted of
humiliation. It wasn't enough that she was now sitting right beside the
window, the sill of which did not shield her past her waist, nor that the
bus seemed to crawl through heavy traffic, the sidewalks seemingly crowded
with pedestrians, and that every traffic light seemed to be against them.
If only, if only she had still been allowed to wear her bra!.......
Sitting up straight with her arms by her sides, hands gripping her thighs
hard enough to dent her creamy flesh, the young girl stared straight ahead
at the chair-back before her; trying vainly to forget she was naked from
the waist up.  But from all her senses she received constant merciless
reminders of her shame: Her ears burned with the constant hum of low
conversation, words like "tits", "huge", "nipples" and worst of
all "Headlights" - Oh that horrible drawing!  - ebbed and flowed on all
sides.  Her new nickname was always followed by an outburst of giggles
until she felt the whole world was laughing at her. Whether it was the
sight of her classmates peeking between the seats, or the glimpses she saw
through the window of heads turning, fingers pointing, faces expressing
laughter, amazement and disbelief: her eyes too, though they glimmered with
tears, did their share of chipping away her composure - such as it was. 
Occasionally she would see cars swerve and start, as their drivers became
too distracted, every toot of a car horn seemed aimed at her.  She was
reminded of her feeling in the museum; that she was just another exhibit
for people to stare at, only now she was behind a glass screen for all the
world to see.  Emma closed her eyes, causing the brimming tears to trickle
down her hot cheeks. Without the distraction of visual stimulus however she
became only more conscious of her half-dressed body.  She could feel the
constant rumble of the engine send tremors through her heavy breasts. 
Without the support of her bra, every start and stop, every bump and hole
in the road caused her boobs to jump and joggle and bounce outrageously. 
It felt like they were never completely at rest, and the constant movement
made it seem her tits were demanding everyone's attention.  Never had the
young girl felt so betrayed by her body. There was yet another betrayal
the innocent girl could feel, even with her eyes closed.  For early in the
trip one girl had laughingly asked if she was too warm, since she didn't
seem to want much clothing, and within a minute all the girls had gleefully
opened the top hatches of their windows, until a constant cool breeze blew
through the bus - with horribly predictable results.  The hard achy feeling
had returned to Emma's nipples, the cold air making it feel like they were
being pinched by icy fingers. At last she forced herself to open her eyes,
and looking down confirmed her fears, and more.  In the centre of the large
areolae, which caused her so much embarrassment, her nipples jutted out
almost freakishly without the material of her bra to contain them - she
doubted if any of the other girls had seen anything to compare with the
show she was giving them.  Her throat tightened until she thought she would
choke on her shame. Turning to what felt like her only friend, Emma found
even Catherine seemed captivated by her breasts, her eyes locked on Emma's
chest region. "Please, don't look at me...  I can't bear it! ...Please?"
Catherine looked away guiltily before meeting Emma's pleading gaze. "I'm
sorry..  I mean, I've seen you naked before, it's just I..  I'm sorry."
pausing Catherine took her friend's hand in hers "I know what you're going
through - more than anyone...  I didn't mean to hurt you.." Emma's reply
was drowned out by a sudden rise in the level of conversation around them,
and the bus came to a lurching halt, which further undermined Emma's
dignity.  They had pulled up outside on of the city's art galleries, which
now had a banner above the main entrance, reading: "DISCOVERY!  - The
Hands-on Science Exploratory".Emma hadn't allowed herself to think about
this moment, and now found herself unable to comprehend the enormity of the
ordeal she faced. Trying to ignore the pain of her best-friend's hand
crushing hers in it's panicked grip; Catherine stroked her arm soothingly.
Hoping that Emma had the strength to get through the day.
***************************************** Standing on the sidewalk with the
rest of the class, Mr.  Griffin watched as Emma, reluctantly left the
safety of the bus, with tentative steps and much glancing to see if the
coast was clear.  It was unfortunate how her punishment had escalated,
especially since she was one of his most well-behaved pupils, but he had
acted in accordance with the school rules, and it would serve to remind all
the girls that he didn't make exceptions under any circumstances.  Besides,
he found punishment was often more effective if it was thought to be
undeserved; it acted as a deterrent against genuine misbehaviour.  Looking
at Emma standing half-naked in a public street, constrained from even
trying to cover herself by fear it might result in worse, he doubted that
this was one girl who was going to give him trouble any time in the
foreseeable future.... For Emma's part, she was having enough trouble
coming to terms with the present without contemplating the future.  How
could she have come to this; standing out in the open, with the breasts she
had always tried to conceal now bared to the world?  She tried to lose
herself in the throng of girls, but they parted in front of her like mist
and with barely hidden grins moved aside as if she was contagious, so that
whichever way she turned she seemed always at the edge of the group, facing
outwards.  How could they all be so cruel??  She tried to convince herself
that she probably wasn't as conspicuous as she imagined, but as the bus
pulled away she caught sight of her own reflection in a store window across
the street, and such illusions were irretrievably shattered. Even at such a
distance she could see what a spectacle she made: Her alabaster skin - so
much of it to see!  - made her seem almost ethereal against the urban
backdrop; Contrasting this, her long black hair, dark eyes and the large
creamy-brown circles of her nipples also seemed designed to catch the eye.
Studying her mirror image, Emma was all of a sudden overcome by the curious
feeling that her ghostly counterpart was the real Emma, and she was just
another onlooker.  She briefly forgot the feelings of fear and
embarrassment, which now belonged to the girl across the street, whose
brief school skirt hung from her hips. "This is what everyone is seeing
when they look at me," she thought, taking in the sight of her own buxom
breasts and tiny waist as if seeing them for the first time.  She turned
slightly to view her profile: "No wonder they all stare so!" This last
thought was a little too close to home, and all of a sudden Emma was jerked
back to reality.  She cringed when she saw the dozens of people watching
her while she had practically been posing for them.  Looking round she was
panic stricken to find the other girls had begun to enter the exhibition,
she was practically alone on the sidewalk with all these strangers.  Only
Catherine hung back, looking at her with a puzzled expression, as well she
might.  With a small inarticulate cry, she swiftly turned and all but ran
up the steps of the main entrance.  Her mind screamed when she realised how
her jogging made her breasts fly and slap about to the delight of her
audience, and her face flushed scarlet from her hairline to her throat. 
She was sure she never used to blush; now it seemed it was all she ever
did.  Trying to calm her wildly thumping heart, she joined the crowd of her
classmates making their way through the doors. Emma's first thought on
entering the exploratory, was that she had stumbled into a wonderful haven;
there were so few people about!  She figured it was because this was a
weekday, and during working hours too, but for whatever reason, the girls
practically had the place to themselves.  One of the few other people
around, the young woman in the reception booth 's eyes went wide with
amazement when she first caught sight of Emma, but narrowed into
disapproval before she crossed her arms under her chest, bringing her own
sizeable breasts into prominent display.  Emma realised with disbelief that
the woman was trying to compete with her!  Did she think Emma was dressed
like this by choice??? Shaking her head, the young girl made her way into
the cavernous hall.  Though she could hardly forget her predicament, the
sight that met her eyes was almost enough to make her do so.  There was so
much cool stuff dotted around the hall to look at and try out, which many
of the girls were now doing.  There were two huge things like satellite
dishes facing each other at opposite ends of the hall, a whisper spoken
into one of them could be heard at the other one all the way across the
room, simply by reflecting and focussing the sound.  There was a Van der
Graf Generator, a thermal image camera, a kind of drum that sent a cushion
of air towards a metallic sheet when you thumped it - so you could see the
impact.  Plus a dozen other interesting experiments.  Against one wall
there was even what appeared to be a giant videoscreen. "With all this to
occupy everyone's attention," thought Emma "I wouldn't be surprised if they
forgot all about me." She looked around "Especially since our class seems
to be about the only people here.." With these small comforts, the topless
pupil made her way to the nearest experiment. ...A little was across town,
another bus was making its way to the exhibition centre.  Along it's side
it bore the legend; "Terence Gilliam School for Boys". The driver changed
up a gear, and the bus continued towards its destination and a slightly
faster pace... ************************************* As Emma had hoped, the
exploratory seemed far to interesting for her classmates to waste the
opportunity teasing her, even though she was completely naked from the
waist up.  After all, you saw this kind of punishment issued to least one
girl every fortnight or so at the Cronenberg.  Although Emma was
hard-pressed to remember anyone ever undergoing such a punishment while on
a field trip! Though the feel of the air against the bare skin of her
breasts was constantly impinging on her mind, and though she still felt
nervous enough to flinch at any sudden sound, Emma tried to drum up some
enthusiasm as she strolled around the exhibits with Catherine.  They
stopped at one point to watch a classmate who was trying out the Van der
Graf Generator  -" she was standing on an insulated block, with her hands
on a metal dome under which a belt was spinning, being brushed by a metal
comb.  As they watched, every strand of the girl -(TM)s long hair slowly
stood on end until her head resembled a dandelion!  Her classmates all
giggled, and one (rather unintelligent) girl asked: "How does it work?" "It
builds up static in your body," said the girl on the block, "watch this!"
And before Emma could react, the girl took her hand off the generator and
reached out to touch a finger to Emma -(TM)s prominent right nipple! The
other girl -(TM)s hair at once fell back around her shoulders with the
release of the static charge, and Emma squealed as the tiny electric shock
stung her sensitive teat!  She jumped back and clutched a hand to her
breast to rub the tender flesh while those around her laughed.  She cast a
hurt glare at her vindictive classmate, and then hastily snatched her hand
away when she realised that she had been instinctively massaging her nipple
between her fingers  -" in full view of her peers! Summoning what dignity
she could, Emma did an about-face and headed away from the group.  Just in
time to see the entrance doors swing open in front of her!  As fate would
have it, the milling groups of girls drifted aside at that moment, leaving
a clear corridor of sight between Emma, who stood alone in the middle of
the floor, and the group of newcomers. The first bunch of figures to enter
stopped dead in the doorway, stunned by the sight of the semi-naked teen,
causing those who followed to bunch up behind them, pushing and shoving
until they too were mesmerised.  Emma was similarly frozen in shock at the
sight of these unexpected new witnesses to her humiliation.  At first the
only thing that registered was that they were a large group of boys around
her own age.  Then she took in the uniform they were wearing, and she
recognised it as that of the Terence Gilliam Boys -(TM) School!  In
disbelief she looked at their faces, and to her horror recognised many of
the same boys from their mutual weekly dancing classes!!  The final blow
that broke Emma -(TM)s paralysis came when she locked gazes with Roger; the
boy who was her dancing partner, and with whom she had been developing a
shy flirtation over the course of the weekly lessons!  What was he doing
here?  What were ANY of them doing here???? "noooo -- NOOooo!!" Emma
moaned, and panicking, she tried to backpedal and turn about at the same
time.  Tripping over her own feet, she fell on her ass with a bump causing
her nude breasts to bounce most violently!  Her legs continued pumping,
instinctively trying to propel her away from the crowd of schoolboys, which
resulted in her giving repeated flashes of her panties as her skirt was
thrown up above her knees.  After a few moments she found her feet, then
turned and fled away from the object of her terror, under the eyes of boy
and girl alike. There was nowhere really to hide in the open-plan hall, but
Emma spied a small alcove in one corner and made a bee-line for it.  Before
entering she turned around to look back out on the hall, to find (not
unexpectedly) every eye still upon her.  Backing into the alcove, she
prayed that they would allow her to stay out of sight.  With her heart
hammering and her throat thick with a mixture of emotions, she turned her
back on the rest of the hall and surveyed their interior of the alcove. Her
mind still awhirl, Emma was confused at first to see an image of herself on
a small TV, set into the wall!  Then she spotted the video camera mounted
in front of her, and Emma couldn -(TM)t help but be amused at seeing
herself on television, though she blushed to see her own naked breasts live
on the small screen!  Emma -(TM)s mind seized on this new phenomenon,
perhaps in an attempt to block out what was waiting for her outside this
tiny alcove.  Fighting back a giggle  -" her emotions were going up and
down like a yo-yo  -" Emma waved at the camera and even turned from side to
side to briefly model her breasts for her own private amusement.  In her
giddy state of mind, the two classes of pupils out in the main part of the
hall could have been a million miles away at that moment -- That is until
she heard Catherine -(TM)s voice crying out in alarm. "EMMA!! NO!!! --
--." Emma looked back over her shoulder to see her best friend running
towards her, waving both hands as if in warning.  Emma -(TM)s brows lowered
in confusion and she turned back to study the camera, and the image of
herself on the small TV, wondering what Catherine was trying to tell her.
Then she heard the wolf-whistles and catcalls begin to rise in the main
hall, and a horrible premonition began to creep over her as she remembered
one of the first things she had seen upon entering the hall -- Namely the
huge video screen that stood against one of the walls.  The question that
hadn -(TM)t occurred to before her was where exactly did it get it -(TM)s
feed from? She was horribly afraid she had just found the answer. Looking
back over her shoulder she saw her worst fears confirmed on the giant
screen that she had failed to focus on when Catherine shouted her a few
moments ago.  There she was, in all her glory  -" her tits filling the
screen, every detail magnified enormously, to be drunk in by the Terence
Gilliam boys.  Why, each of her dark nipples alone appeared almost two feet
in diameter, for all to see!! The next thing Emma was aware of, Catherine
was grabbing her by the shoulders, and spinning her around away from the
video camera.  Cupping her friend -(TM)s chin in her fingers, Catherine
lifted her Emma -(TM)s head until she could look into her eyes, saying
quietly:
"Girl, I know there -(TM)s a saying  -~If you -(TM)ve got it, flaunt it!
-(TM) but you can take a thing too far you know! --" She cocked an
eyebrow, and the twinkle in her eyes showed she was only gently teasing. 

Emma hitched a sound that was half laugh - half sob. "I don -(TM)t know --
This place  -" everything seems to be conspiring against me.  I can -(TM)t
think straight; I don -(TM)t know what to do!!  Oh Catherine, there
are boys here  -" Roger  -" looking at me!  What am I going to do??"
"Well," Catherine sighed, "I guess there -(TM)s not much we can do..  The
only thing I can tell you is to keep your head held up, and um, don -(TM)t
let them see you -(TM)re afraid if you can help it.   --.Oh, and it might
help you to keep this thought in mind; keep telling yourself -" and here
she leaned forward to whisper quietly in Emma -(TM)s ear, "- you have
abeautiful pair of tits!.." She stepped back with an impish grin. Emma
gave a self-conscious laugh, which turned into a giggle, which turned in to
a sobbing laugh that made her breasts jiggle and shake.  After a few
moments she got herself under some kind of control, and wiped away the few
tears that sparkled in her long eyelashes.  Slipping her hand into
Catherine -(TM)s, she gave it a grateful squeeze, and received a squeeze of
reassurance in return. "Come on," said Catherine, "the other -(TM)s are
gathering over by Mr.  Griffin  -" let -(TM)s go see what -(TM)s going
on.." On saying this, she led the reluctant brunette back out into the lion
-(TM)s den -- ************************************ Emma nearly balked when
she realised that not only were her own classmates standing in a group
waiting for the two girls to join them, but the boys of the Terence Gilliam
School were assembled alongside them -- Without exception, every eye was
trained on Emma  -" on her chest  -" as she made her way across the floor,
and that included the two teachers.  The woman in charge of the schoolboys
seemed young and quite pretty, but the stern look she aimed towards Emma
carried disapproval rather than sympathy.  Taking up a position with
Catherine, as far away from the boys as possible, she still found it was
impossible to avoid their stares completely.  She schooled herself to take
deep, calming breaths to steady her nerve.  Unfortunately this had the
drawback of causing her boobs to rise and fall dramatically with each
breath, a sight which she was sure nobody could be missing! Emma -(TM)s
chin trembled constantly, and the corners of her rosebud mouth quivered to
hold back the sob that threatened to wrench from her chest.  Her vision
went swimmy as tears pooled in her eyes.  Like all teenaged girls, Emma had
fantasised about being intimate with boys.  In those night-time moments
before she drifted off to sleep, she had imagined what it would be like to
share the mysteries of her body with a boy she cared about; to let him see,
let him touch -- She had never pictured a scene like this!  - Half
undressed in a crowd of her classmates; Her naked tits on display to well
over twenty fully-clothed boys, whose attentions were far different from
those of the tender, caring lover she had dreamed for herself.  The
expressions she could see out of the corner of her eye resembled a
collection of grotesque gargoyles.  The greed and naked lust painted across
the boys -(TM) faces wounded her like physical blows.  Briefly she caught
Roger -(TM)s eye, and her heart broke to find that he too was staring at
her endowment with an open-mouthed expression somewhere between awe and
amusement.  Sweeping aside the remnants of her shattered girlhood dreams,
Emma tried to tune in on what her teacher was saying. "Now girls, and
boys," he added, "I have just been told that there is a small Planetarium
room through these doors which runs a film about the Galaxy and our Solar
System that sounds very interesting.  It lasts about 20 minutes, and since
neither of our classes have the time to wait after the other has seen it,
Miss Williams and I have decided that both classes will be allowed to view
the show together.  It will be pitch dark once the film begins, but
understand this; I will not tolerate ANY messing about once the lights go
down  -" do you hear me?" There was a chorus of Yes, Mr Griffin -(TM) from
the girls -(TM) and  -~Yes, Sir -(TM) from the boys, "Good.  Now Miss
Williams if you would be so kind as to lead your class in first." It was
apparent from his authoritative grandstanding and courteous manners that Mr
Griffin was trying his best to impress the pretty young teacher from
Terence Gilliam High.  From the rather cool look she gave him as she led
her class into the planetarium, it wasn -(TM)t clear that he was
succeeding. When all the boys had entered, the girls and their teacher
began to file into the room.  Emma was among the last to go in. The room
she now found herself in was completely circular, with a domed ceiling
painted white.  It was smaller than she expected, with no seating.  There
was just about room for the two classes to stand in roughly separate
groups. Emma couldn -(TM)t help wondering, since there was no television or
movie projection screen, just where the "film" was going to be shown.  She
prayed it would start soon and provide some distraction from the
entertainment she herself was providing!  Just then the lights went out
completely, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief.  For the first time since
her ordeal began she was safe from he eyes of others.  She could feel the
tension in her muscles slowly lessening.  Above her head, on the ceiling,
various stars began to appear, and Emma finally realised where the film was
going to be shown..  An authoritative voice began to talk about things
astronomical, and Emma began to let herself be entranced by the cosmic
display being projected onto the ceiling above her. Not all her classmates
were so similarly attentive however, some had other things on their minds.
Though the light from the ceiling display was not enough to see more than
shadows by, Jessica and her friends had no trouble making their way quietly
over to where they remembered Emma to be standing.  Their desire for
so-called vengeance by no means yet abated; all at once they pounced. When
Emma heard shuffling movement unseen around her, she was too engrossed in
the show to really pay any attention, but then she suddenly felt a hand
stroke her bottom in the darkness and give a little squeeze!  She yelped
and turned around to put her fleshy rear out of reach, but from behind her
again, someone ran a finger down her spine causing her to twist about once
more.  Then the attacks came from all sides: her bottom was pinched, her
ribs were poked, burrowing fingers tickled her soft tummy.   --.Emma didn
-(TM)t know who could be doing this to her, and surrounded by blackness,
her frightened mind presented only one explanation: She had somehow become
surrounded by boyswho were groping at her exposed flesh!!  Then a hand
clutched her left breast and squeezed it firmly, and she squealed and
jumped away, her panicky sobs disrupting the steady monologue of the
still-playing film.  The insistent hands followed her however and renewed
their torment whilst she twisted and turned, becoming completely
disorientated in the near-total darkness.  Finally, when she felt someone
-(TM)s hand slide up between her legs under her skirt and goose her
through her panties, while another pair of hands tweaked and tugged both
her nipples simultaneously, Emma panicked completely and made a run for it
jostling her way out of her ring of tormentors -- She managed to run only a
few steps in the darkness before she barged into a new group of bodies and
immediately lost her balance.  Falling, she tried to clutch at the people
around her for support, but only succeeded in bringing several of them to
the floor with her.  Then she felt unseen hands on her body once more, and
immediately she knew how greatly she had been mistaken before  -" this time
they really WERE boys hands all over her!  Not in the earlier cruel,
attacking manner of those she realised must have been Jessica and her gang
- but exploring, feeling, trying to figure out what they were touching...
It was maddening, and Emma could only roll back and forth on the floor
sobbing and trying to evade their grasp. All of a sudden the commentary
wound down and the lights came up.  Blinking in the unaccustomed
brightness, Emma ceased her struggles as those around her became still. 
She could see that Mr Griffin had flipped a switch on the wall ending the
show prematurely.  Emma -(TM)s blood ran cold when she saw the expressions
that he and his fellow teacher Miss Williams were directing at her, not to
mention the fact that she was once more the sole focus of two classfuls of
pupil -(TM)s attention.  Gathering her wits she took stock of her situation
and groaned.  --She was lying on her back, partly on top of a boy from
Terence Gilliam, with a couple of other boys close beside her, one of them
nearly had her breast in his face!!  Her skirt had become completely
bunched around her waist exposing her panties to full view.  To her horror,
from the feel of things she thought that her panties too had become twisted
around a little, and may not be covering her completely!  Hastily she
dragged her skirt down and sat up, at the same time she suddenly remembered
exactly which pair of her panties she was wearing today and shuddered  -"
she didn -(TM)t even want to think about that right now.  Miserably she
bowed her head and folded her arms in front of her, not really caring that
she might be "covering up"  -" she doubted it could make her punishment any
worse than whatever Mr Griffin was planning right now, from the look on his
face. Indeed Mr griffin was nearly incandescent with anger.  It seemed Emma
had taken advantage of being in the dark with a group of boys to indulge in
a little "youthful experimentation", which had inevitably got out of hand.
He hoped that this would serve as a lesson to the foolish girl to
steer well clear of boys in future - at least until she was no longer his
responsibility.  If this had been an isolated incident he would perhaps
have been persuaded to say that her humiliation and mistreatment at the boy
-(TM)s hands had been punishment enough, but as it was she had disrupted
the show for the rest of the class, and more importantly embarrassed him in
front of a colleague, and a very attractive one at that.  As if prompted by
his thoughts, Miss Williams spoke up: "Really Mr Griffin, if you find it so
impossible to control your charges, the least I ask is that you keep them
from corrupting my pupils!" and with that she led her reluctant class out
of the room and into the main hall, with the boys giving many a backward
glance to the semi-nude girl still seated on the floor. "Emma, stand up and
stop that snivelling.  I should have thought that the punishments I have
issued you thus far would have been more than enough to curb your
disruptive behaviour, but you seem to be taking it all in your stride!" Mr
Griffin -(TM)s voice bespoke his tightly-controlled anger, Emma didn -(TM)t
think she had ever seen him look so furious!  "One way or another we are
going to rediscover your sense of modesty, girl.  We shall see if
forfeiting your skirt will help you to relearn shame.  Be warned Emma, I am
prepared to take this as far as is necessary until you once more behave as
befits a girl of the Cronenberg School!" It was all so unfair..  Losing her
blouse in the first place had been more than enough to make Emma toe the
line until the end of her school career  -" but since t Shakily, Emma got
to her feet.  With steady breaths she was able to stop her tears, though
her eyes were full and glimmering, her long lashes clinging together and
her cheeks wet with those already shed.  Silent sobs still shook her
shoulders, and sent shudders through the firm flesh of her unsupported
breasts.  Standing in the middle of the circular, domed room, surrounded on
all sides by her classmates, she began to clumsily undo the buttons on her
skirt.  With each one the garment dropped a little further down her hips,
making her clench her eyes shut in miserable anticipation, until after the
fourth button it suddenly fell into a puddle round her feet.  Emma's heart
beat once, twice, and then the giggling started, the muffled laughter, as
Emma knew it would, when the other girls saw the state of her panties -- 
--.Every girl has them - "last resort" panties, "emergency underwear"; the
old pair at the bottom of the drawer you keep meaning to throw out but
never do, and every so often you run out of clean undies and end up having
to wear them - like today --. Emma's pair were a particularly sorry case.
She'd had them maybe a couple of years now, and they hadn't been that great
when new - only a cheap white cotton pair, the kind that comes in packs of
three or so.  She remembered buying them shortly before her body began to
change from girlhood to womanhood and filled out so spectacularly - so that
almost from the outset they were really too small for her.  Now in
addition, the elastic was mostly shot and the cotton material all stretched
out of shape.  Bitterly she remembered how Catherine used to tease her that
she had the only pair of panties in the world that managed to be both
much too small and much too loose at the same time --. Now, under the
bright lights in the enclosed planetarium, Emma tried to adjust the far too
brief garment to cover her as best she could.  It was useless - the
waistband of her panties cut straight across the widest part of her hips,
exposing the sacral dimples at the base of her spine, and a good amount of
her ass-cheeks and bottom-crease.  If she tried to tug the panties up to
cover her behind, they rode down in front to expose her silky black pubic
hair in front.  When she foolishly tried to stretch the panties to cover
her frontand back at the same time, the crotch material immediately
slipped between her fleshy pussy lips and up between her buttocks,
increasing her exposure tenfold and causing her fellow pupils to
practically collapse with laughter!  The only one not laughing was Jessica,
although the evil smile and contemplative gleam in her eyes at that moment
should have upset Emma far more, if she had seen it.  With a face like a
post-holocaust sunset, Emma delicately unpicked her panties, running her
fingers under the legbands, and smoothed them out until they were back
where she first started. She needn't have attempted to adjust the
uncooperative item in any case, thought Catherine, as she watched her best
friend's newest humiliation; for after so many trips through the laundry,
the thin white cotton was so washed out and sheer as to be almost
transparent.  So that even where they covered her, you could still clearly
make out the crack of her ass through the material, not to mention the
well-defined shadow of her generous bush in front.  Catherine debated
whether to tell Emma just how visibly she was exposed, but figured it could
only upset the poor abused girl even further.  Instead she simply walked up
to her friend and gave her a brief hug - quick enough that Mr Griffin
couldn't accuse her of trying to shield Emma from her punishment.  Then she
picked the discarded skirt up from the floor, saving Emma the embarrassment
of bending over to get it, and gave the item to the teacher who carefully
folded it over his arm. "Now, I am going to go and find Miss Williams, so
that I may apologise for Emma's scandalous conduct, and to see if I can
convince her that it does not reflect the behaviour of Cronenberg girls as
a whole.  You can all help by conducting yourselves properly while
unsupervised - I would hate to think that you cannot be trusted to behave
as young ladies should for a few minutes while I confer with another
teacher.  Any ruckus and I will make all of you wish you were in Emma's
shoes right now!" *************************** The subdued class filed out
into the main hall and began to explore the hands-on displays once more. 
Emma, who had been hoping that the Terence Gilliam boys might have already
left, was crushed to find them all still milling around the room.  Their
eyes widened in further amazement when they saw her emerge dressed in only
her shoes, socks and the sorriest pair of panties any of them had ever
seen. They had a hard time deciding whether to ogle her magnificent
breasts, or stare at where her underwear rode below the curve of her
stomach, barely covering her pubic mound.  It was apparent however that
Miss Williams had also given her class a talking to in the mean time,
because none of the boys approached the denuded girl, and they all tried to
give the appearance of being engrossed in the exhibits - while all the time
squinting at Emma to try and make out the details of her anatomy beneath
her diaphanous underwear. Although Emma felt as if her legs were made of
rubber, and though she clung to Catherine's hand as if it were a lifeline,
she thought that if things stayed the way they were, she would be able to
cope with the stares until it was time to go.  At least things had calmed
down a bit, and both classes were keeping their distance.  She should have
realised though, as she saw Mr Griffin lead a reluctant Miss Williams into
the coffee shop that adjoined the exhibition hall, that this was merely the
calm before the storm. As soon as the door swang shut on their teachers,
the two classes - boy and girl alike - turned towards Emma with such a
predatory gleam in their eyes that she took a step backwards and swallowed
nervously.