HAPPY TO HELP by Joe Whatever Peter walked slowly up and down, inspecting the bottoms of the kneeling girls. Like Peter, the girls were 18-year-olds. But, unlike Peter, the girls were stark naked. He adjusted his pants as he moved in for a closer examination of Sara's bottom. She was the head cheerleader and Peter's nemesis. It was Sara who had bribed those boys to put the hair remover in his jockstrap. It was Sara who had led the "Pitiful Peter" cheer at the pep rally. Peter bent over and blew softly. He smiled as the bare pink bottom in front of him wiggled and tensed in response to the breeze. He moved on to the next girl. Linda had told Peter she would be his prom date. Of course, when he showed up in his tux, she and her friends laughingly took his picture and then sent him home. But it was Peter who was laughing now. He pulled out his camera-phone for a group photo of the six quivering, naked bottoms. Ah, memories! As the principal's gopher, Peter had keys to entire school, and he had used his master key to put those bags of oregano in the cheerleaders' lockers. He told his pal, the principal, that it was such a pity to see those pretty girls go to the slammer. There was a better solution. Unfortunately the poor girls would have to remove their clothes.... The principal didn't have a paddle, so Peter retrieved the sturdy razor strap he'd made in shop class; it "just happened" to be in his locker. "Spread your legs, girls," Peter ordered. "We need to have your bottoms spread for punishment." The girls blushed, winced, whimpered, and squirmed. But they complied. It was amazing how obedient they were now that Peter was holding the strap. Peter gasped as their treasured feminine secrets came into view. He smiled. This was definitely a photo opportunity. ****************************** After phase one of the photo shoot, it was time to employ the strap. But the principal had a bad arm, and, besides, he didn't really know how best to use the strap. But that wouldn't be a problem. Peter was happy to help. Edited by C. Lakewood