Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Dee Does HS 15 By peregrinf

   I arrived at the meet'n'greet to discover everybody else, of course, was
dressed -- oh, except for Mike, who'd gotten to the meet'n'greet before me
and was standing off to one side, looking lost.  He and I were in our
program uniforms.

   Ah well, I should be used this by now.

   "Oh, look!  It's the Truffula tree!"

   That was loud enough to draw everyone's attention to my entrance.  Being
tall I was accustomed to being gawked at.  I tried to tell myself it didn't
bother me.

   Much.

   As the conversation resumed around us I -- avoiding an eye-roll that
would have strained a muscle -- instead, strained my principles by smiling
and sticking out my hand to the Major Dumbo who had so kindly announced my
arrival, barely glancing at her companion.

   "Hi, I'm Dee Walker, and you are?"

   Not that I didn't already know darn well who she was.  Since I'd arrived
at this esteemed institution, following the advice of my brilliant brother,
I'd done some research.  The library has an up-to-date set of yearbooks,
and she'd featured prominently in them for the past three years.  A senior,
she was sure to be top of the charts this year, of course.

   "Heather MacKenzie!" she said in a chipper tone that implied that
Everyone should already know who She was.  Her handshake was one of those
tips-of-the-fingers ladylike grips.

   Ugh.

   "Please'tameetcha," I managed.

   She, of course, was also the same person who had welcomed me so
descriptively to the lunchroom that first day.  Since then, in self defense
I'd carefully scoped out her usual habitats so I could avoid them, which
was no easy task.  She was head of this -- Cheerleading, of course, among
others -- president of that, chaired the prom committee, et cetera, et
cetera, et cetera.  She had perfect blonde hair, courtesy of the finest
salon in town, a gorgeous complexion, courtesy of a fine cosmetician and
careful hygiene, perfect teeth, thanks to the best orthodontist money can
buy, likewise a perfect nose, boobs and butt.  I declined to speculate on
whether they were naturally acquired or not.

   But, regardless of what she thought, I was willing to bet that her shit
still stunk.

   "I hear that performance of yours in the park was really bitchin'!" she
hissed with a naughty giggle.

   Takes one to know one, I thought.  So far she was proving to be
everything I loathed, but I reserved judgment, figuring that Mrs.  Devers
had some good reason for picking her for the committee.

   "It was fun!  You should try it sometime," I parried, thinking how much
I'd enjoy having her on the leash.  "You'll have to excuse me, I see
someone I need to talk to."

   Escaping her claws I strolled over to Mike, who was looking somewhat
adrift.

   "Sorry I was late." I didn't add that the lateness was Carl's
suggestion, to avoid standing around looking hopeless until someone else
showed up.

   "S'okay," he responded, cheering up a bit.

   "C'mon, let's mingle," I urged.  "I'm hungry!"

   "You're always hungry," he teased as we descended on the refreshments.
He still only came up to my earlobes, but he was slowly gaining on me.

   The Kool Aid pitcher was low, but I naturally went for a cup of the ice
water anyway, and a fistful of what I presumed were oatmeal raisin cookies.
At least none of the raisins moved.

   Mrs.  Devers was gazing benignly over the gathering as Mike and I
circulated, introducing ourselves.  I did my best to follow Carl's advice,
easily summarized as "don't talk, do listen, and catch names."

   Heather Mac's chatter and tinkling laughter dominated the room.  She
seemed to be paired with -- what else?  -- a jock, but at least it wasn't
the star quarterback.  That would have been too cliché.  Someone else came
up to her and the guy slipped away with a look of relief, so I decided to
pursue him.  Last year's yearbook photo didn't do him justice.  I wished
I'd taken more note of him when I'd responded so courteously, if
hypocritically, to her greeting.

   Matthew "Mongo" Mozilla was a wide receiver on the football team and
star pitcher on the baseball team who, running contrary to stereotype, was
rumored to be Harvard bound.  I wondered how he and Beth would get along
together there.  They must have known each other here.

   He looked bored out of his gourd, and greeted me very courteously,
commenting on my swimming notoriety and how much he enjoyed my diving.  It
was nice having someone to look up to, physically.  I mentally marked him
as a potentially valuable ally.  It turned out, being the senior rep, he
was only paired with Heather on the committee through Mrs.  Devers's
machinations.  He informed me that in real life Heather was, in fact,
romantically entangled with the QB.

   We both agreed: how formula can you get?

   Mongo was a hunk I'd not mind getting to know better, on a casual basis,
that is.  Greg was still at the top of my charts, and I was looking forward
to being paired with him for the next four years, if he could put up with
me for that long.

   There being only eight of us students in total, two from each grade,
making the rounds to the ones we didn't already know personally didn't take
long.  As usual, I towered over all the other girls and most of the boys --
Mongo being the exception -- so I noticed Worthington's appearance before
anyone else.  In keeping with his enforced Program participation he was
naked.  A brief silence followed by burst of murmurs swept the room as eyes
tracked him, and then chatter resumed as he went over to greet Mrs. 
Devers.

   I tried to interpret the looks that followed him, without success.  From
what intelligence I'd been able to gather, politically he was a joker in
the deck that was the school hierarchy -- neither faculty nor staff.  A
representative of the Federal Office of Social Awareness, he was charged
with overall supervision of the Naked in School Program.  As such he didn't
report through the school's chain of command -- that would have been Mrs.
Devers -- but to the regional office of FOSA.  That had to bug the heck out
of Mrs.  Devers -- that and the fact that his charter granted him powers
denied to mere Vice Principals.

   Keeping an eye on Worthless as he circulated did challenge my peripheral
vision, but I managed to be braced for it when he slithered up to me.  I'd
deliberately sent Mike off for a cookie refill, leaving me momentarily solo
and vulnerable, figuring the Worm wouldn't miss the opportunity.

   "Miss Walker, so good to see you again."

   "In the flesh, Mr.  Worthington," I responded courteously, turning to
face him, not about to let him get behind me.  "And you as well, I see."

   "One of the burdens of leadership," he acknowledge nobly, spreading his
arms slightly to display his unimpressive nakedness.  "One must set a good
example, mustn't one?"

   He was as limp as a noodle.

   "Indeed," I agreed.  Don't talk, listen, I sternly reminded myself.

   "So," he began conversationally, "what do you expect to see coming out
of this..."

   I had the feeling he was about to say something guaranteed to punch my
buttons, like "silly" but he apparently caught himself.

   "...this committee of yours?"

   "It's not my committee," I countered delicately.

   "Oh come now!  A bright girl like you should take credit for your
accomplishments."

   I shook my head.  "The committee was certainly not my idea."

   Which was true.  I'd come up with some questions about The Program.  The
committee was Mrs.  Devers's idea.

   "But you will admit you put the idea in Mrs.  Devers's head after our
little disagreement over young Peggy's program violation," he suggested,
oilier than a tub of multi-mega-plex popcorn with extra butter.

   "I did have some questions for her about some aspects of The Program," I
admitted.  "But I don't recall Peggy's name came up."

   "Since I'm the Program Coordinator you should have asked me," he
countered petulantly.

   "If you recall, I'd gotten off on the wrong foot with you that day," I
pointed out apologetically.

   "Indeed.  So, what were the issues you raised?"

   I shrugged, stepping back a pace.  He kept moving in on my personal
space and I was hoping he couldn't smell my fear-sweat.

   "Oh, little things.  Did you know, for example, that naturists carry a
towel to sit on?  It's for hygienic reasons, but it's something I thought
of the first time I planted my naked butt down on one of those cold
classroom chairs." I felt like I was tip-toeing through a mine field.  "But
of course anyone might have thought of that," I went on.  "Many probably
have."

   Apparently deciding this was getting him nowhere he moved in on my space
again, speaking very confidentially, like he was sharing a big secret.  He
even held my upper arm, making my skin crawl.

   "Speaking of that, I've been -- ahem -- touching base with all of my
current Program participants over the last few days, to see if they had any
suggestions, checking on how they were faring.  My other duties had
intruded and I'd been a bit remiss in that duty."

   Yeah, right, I thought, reclaiming my arm, backing away again, leaving
his comment hanging in the air.

   He closed the gap I'd just opened, going for my arm again.  "Out of
courtesy I'd planned to interview the ladies first, but that hasn't worked
out.  It wasn't like that last year, or during the first week this year.  I
don't suppose you know why the participants started showing up in pairs?"

   Ladies first, out of courtesy?  Right, and I'm the Pope.

   Backing away again, freeing my arm to brush my hair back, I gave him my
wide-eyed dumb blonde look.  "Well, when they're selected, participants are
paired up for the week so they can support each other.  I would assume
that's the reason.  It should make your job easier, killing two birds with
one stone?"

   "Of course," he agreed, moving in again.  "But you seem to be
unaccompanied."

   I tried to tell myself it was better being close to him.  I didn't like
the way his eyes skated over my lower regions at all.  On the other hand,
his touch gave me the creeps.

   I nodded ruefully.  "Since I was drafted into The Program for
disciplinary reasons I have no partner."

   I'd never fished, but suspected it was a bit like this.  If that wasn't
a tempting twitch of the lure I didn't know what was.

   "Such a shame, a lovely young lady like you." He tut-tutted.  "Well,
we'll have to get together sometime soon.  Perhaps tomorrow.  I'll have to
check my schedule."

   You do that, I thought.  His gaze seemed to lap at my freshly shaven
pubes.  Was that a twitch of interest from his endowment?

   I waited for him to pursue the matter further, but he didn't.  I could
see Mrs.  Devers watching us, and heaved a silent sigh of relief when she
stepped in to call the group to some sort of order.  I slipped away from
Worthington to couple up with Mike, wishing I hadn't eaten so many cookies.
Maybe I'd been wrong about those raisins.  They seemed to be exploring my
gut.

   "As you know, this is just an informal gathering of the Central High
School Naked in School Advisory Committee.  I wanted to give you a chance
to get to know each other," she began.  "As I told you when you were asked
to participate, as the Naked in School Program has proceeded, certain
questions have emerged, which I'm not going detail here.  You have all
kindly agreed to address these questions and provide recommendations to
improve our implementation of The Program.  Thank you very much.

   "We'll be formally announcing the committee and your membership on it
during homeroom tomorrow morning.  There will also be an article in the
school paper.  We'll explain its purpose, and at that time we'll encourage
the student body to approach you with their concerns.  One of your
assignments is to make note of their worries or suggestions regarding The
Program so they can be included on the agenda.  Some of you have already
communicated your thoughts, for which I'm grateful.

   "You'll meet in this room on Mondays, at the end of the school day,
beginning next week.  Obviously there's no way yet to know yet how long the
process will take.  The first meeting will be organizational and I strongly
encourage you all to attend.  It's been my experience that to be absent
risks being elected to fill the least desirable office."

   That got some nervous laughter.

   "All of you have taken part in The Program, or are doing so now, so you
know what it is like to be naked in school.  Mr.  Worthington -- who is
gaining such experience this week -- is Program Coordinator, courtesy of
the Federal Office of Social Awareness, and as such has been included as ex
officio member.  However, it is not intended that he dominate the
committee. You will be responsible for choosing a chairperson to conduct
the meetings, a co-chair to be available if the chair is absent, and a
secretary to take notes, produce minutes and cope with clerical details."

   That was the shit job if ever there was one.

   "Are there any questions?" she concluded

   I might have stuck my hand up, but Heather, bless her dainty little
brown nose, beat me to it.

   "Can we call -- uh -- witnesses, or whatever you want to call them?"

   Just what I was wondering myself.  Thank you, Heather!  I thought.

   "It would certainly seem appropriate, but bear in mind this is an
information-gathering organization.  It has not been formed to resolve
disputes or to be a judicial body.  That will remain the responsibility of
Mr.  Worthington as Program Coordinator."

   I did notice a few frowns at this announcement.  Apparently he wasn't
popular with some parties, most of them female.  A grimace wrinkled
Heather's perfect face, and her blue eyes were drilling holes in the Worm,
which I found very interesting!

   He merely beamed and looked around benignly.

   "Any other questions?" Mrs.  Devers went on.  "No?  Well, as I said, we
already have a few issues on the agenda, and I'll make sure you get that
list tomorrow.  But over the weekend I suggest you draw up any further
matters you feel should be taken up.  Please have them ready so you can
present them to be included for the first business meeting.  Thank you all
for volunteering to take on this challenge.  Now, please, enjoy the
refreshments and get to know each other."

   Mike and I lingered a respectable amount of time before excusing
ourselves.  Out in the hall we both heaved a sigh of relief.

   "How are you doing with being naked around here this week?  Any
problems?"

   He shrugged.  "It's okay.  After what we did last year in Sex Ed, this
is pretty tame.  The upper class kids already have a year or more of
experience with The Program, so they're generally pretty cool with it. 
Some of the freshmen are a little over-eager.  Showers with the girls after
Gym are fun, and I get relief whenever I need it.  Some of the upper class
girls can really suck cock!"

   I laughed.  "And how's Missy doing?"

   He frowned.  "She's been real uptight.  Did something happen Tuesday?"

   "Like what?" I asked, on my guard.

   "When she came to school Wednesday she was real tense.  Then when
Worthington called her down for an interview she looked like she'd seen a
ghost and insisted I come with her."

   I grunted.

   "I dunno why he asked her down.  He asked a bunch of silly questions,
asked a little about you.

   "Anyway, before I came to the meet'n'greet she did ask me to tell you
something.  She said I should tell you she's got your back.  Any idea what
she's talking about?"

   "Not really," I responded, feeling a surge of warmth.  She was the only
student who knew what was going on.  I wouldn't put it past her to somehow
muster the troops to keep tabs on me in a way that didn't set off any
alarms.  I could only hope nobody else figured out what I was up to and did
something stupid.  At least I wasn't quite as alone as I thought.

   After recovering our clothes and dressing we talked about teachers and
courses as we walked home together, until he headed for his house and I for
mine.  Once there I did my best to lose myself in my homework and dinner
chores.  Tomorrow, from what Worthington had said, was almost certainly
going to be the day.  But what in hell was I supposed to do if he didn't
try to molest me?  And if he did, how was I supposed to know if anyone was
listening in and recording stuff?

   All of a sudden this scheme looked very, very moth-eaten.

   I was glad to sleep in Mom's arms again that night, not that either of
us slept all that well.

   * * *

   "I have got to be out of my ever-loving mind to be letting you do this!"

   Mom was between my spread legs, freshening up my pube-shave.  I kept my
mouth shut, and my legs open.

   "You're only thirteen!"

   "Almost fourteen," I pointed out.  With everything that was going on, my
birthday was the last thing on my mind.  Even tomorrow's swimming trials
were pretty much forgotten, though I knew I was in the worst condition I'd
been in years.  My total attention was riveted on getting Worthington and
surviving the day.

   She gave me her patented and trade marked "don't quibble with me, young
lady" look.  "What decent mother in the world would set her daughter up to
get raped?"

   I felt for her.  "One who knows me, and trusts me, and wants to see the
right thing done," I answered.  "It's not like he's a serial killer.  He
only molests, and it's not like I have my virginity to lose to him."

   "I should be arrested for child endangerment," she informed my cunt.

   "The police already know," I pointed out.  "They're co-conspirators, or
whatever you call it, along with the District Attorney, Child Protective
Services, and the school authorities.  Who's left to arrest you?"

   "I swear, you must have some kind of hypnotic power to rope us all into
this mad scheme.  Done," she sighed, sitting back on her heels, giving my
pussy a tender, loving stroke of her hand.

   "Thanks, Mom." I hugged her head to my barely developed bosom.

   Our parting this day was even more desperate and prolonged than the day
before.  We knew it was almost certainly going to happen today, if it
happened at all.  As I walked out the door I felt the way I had the first
time I'd taken the plunge off the ten-meter platform.  Just after I'd
stepped off, when I was beyond the point of no return, I wondered what had
possessed me to do it.

   Only in this case I could still turn back, call in sick, anything.

   But I knew I wouldn't.  No one has ever accused me of being a quitter. I
was of the philosophy that quitters never win, and winners never quit. 
They'll probably engrave that on my tombstone.

   Which was not a comforting thought, given the circumstances.

   I used my anger to contain my fear, and tried to wrap the whole package
in a "business as usual" attitude as I made my way through the day, waiting
for the ax to fall.  I was nearly oblivious to people coming up to me about
the committee after the morning announcements.

   I got to lunch a little late, the result of fulfilling a request I found
quite reasonable and enjoyable -- Mongo asked me for a pose, and gave me a
very nice feel-up!  -- and as I entered the lunchroom I saw Missy
whispering to the lunch bunch at our usual table.

   As I went through the line, though, I saw her get up and return to her
normal place, while the lunch bunch was huddled, whispering among
themselves, exchanging looks, pointing to each other, heads nodding
mysteriously.  I tried to tell myself it was just the result of my mom's
usual pre-birthday maneuverings, while secretly hoping that maybe I had
allies, even though I was certain they didn't know specifically what I was
up to.  Except Missy.  She knew.

   Would she have told them?  Unlikely.  Not under a triple-cross-my-heart
promise.  In our book that superseded even life-or-death situations.  Once
she'd threatened to break the promise and tell if I didn't come down off
the roof right away, using the ladder.  I did, even though I was holding a
really, really, really big umbrella, the one from the backyard picnic
table, with both hands.  I still think it woulda held me.

   But even if she had told the lunch bunch everything -- which she hadn't,
'cause Peggy was right there and she wasn't in tears -- what could they do?
If they tried to storm Worthington's office it would ruin the whole thing.
Worthless would get off, and God alone knew what hellfire would rain down
on everyone for botching the operation, for putting me at risk -- ME, who'd
dreamed this whole thing up -- and leaving the Worm free to molest again!

   Shit!  I felt like a rat turd for getting them into this in the first
place.

   By the time I got to the table the bunch had assumed falsely casual
attitudes.  Peggy, worried but stable, kept looking at me.  Lunch wasn't
the usual carefree gathering.  Beneath the joking and teasing -- along with
a scolding for not telling them about my committee assignment, and a number
of not-serious suggestions for it to discuss -- there was tension.  It was
like everyone at the table was watching storm clouds on the horizon, trying
to get their picnic in and get under cover before lightning struck.

   They obviously knew something was up, and I wasn't any help, waiting for
the courier to tap me on the shoulder and hand me Worthington's summons. 
When it didn't happen it only ratcheted my case of nerves up another notch.


   I wouldn't say I sleep-walked through the afternoon -- anything but. 
But my attention sure wasn't on what I was supposed to be doing.  Gym was a
farce, to the extent I wound up using my forehead to take one of Radditz's
bullet serves -- the return went out of bounds -- leaving my ears ringing
and my eyes crossed for about five minutes.  She apologized, but it may
have been retaliation for my near miss the day before.  I couldn't blame
her.  I hadn't been paying attention either time.

   My side lost, and try as hard as I could I just wasn't able even to
enjoy the guys in the shower, turning down their offer of a free hand wash
followed by the usual mutually enjoyable pre-rinse come job.

   The call came about half-way through German, my last class, and my
stomach dropped into my toes.  It couldn't have been at a worse time.  Frau
Blucher was not tolerant of disruptions, but even she, apparently, was
forced to yield to Worthington's summons and release me.  Apologizing as I
gathered my things, I handed her a prepared note and asked her to make sure
it got to the office as soon as possible, but I saw her just set it aside,
distracted by a disturbance in the back row, and I realized that things
were already starting to unravel.

   There was no time to slip a message to someone with a cell in the class
to text Sanchez.  Frau Blucher was death on anyone fiddling with a cell
phone.  She'd been known to confiscate the offender's mobile and hold it
hostage for an indefinite length of time.

   Strike two!  Shit!  What was I left with?  If I didn't find the panic
button in Worthless's office I was screwed.

   Actually, I'd probably get screwed anyway, but no one but me would know
it, which was not the plan!

   Trying to figure a way out of this mess, my mind racing, I wasn't aware
of anything more than six feet in front of me.  The courier was Cagney, of
all people, and apparently he'd been instructed to escort me to our
destination.  He was about half a pace behind me, nudging me along, so I
couldn't skip out.  At least now we knew where Worthington was getting his
information, not that it was a surprise.  Fat lot of good that did me!

   When I tried to turn toward the Worm's office, Tweedle Dumb corrected my
course.  "That office gives him claustrophobia.  He's not there," Dumb
explained.

   Triple Shit!  I wasn't even going to be where I was supposed to be! 
This was getting worse and worse.  I felt like I did when I blew a takeoff
from the three-meter board.  I knew that no matter how hard I tried there
was no way I could save the dive, that it was destined to end badly and
painfully.  My only hope was that the room I was taken to had a panic
button and I managed to find it.

   I tried to keep track of where we were.  I thought I'd explored every
inch of this place, but he took a corridor I'd ignored that ran along
behind the kitchen, probably to the loading dock.  He knocked on a door and
as he opened it he took away my backpack.  So much for any secret recording
device in there!  Not that I had one.

   "Leave this out here," he ordered, ushering me in.  The door closed
behind me with an ominously solid sound, and I found myself in what looked
like a break room, probably for the kitchen staff.

   "Welcome, Miss Walker," he greeted me from a seat at the break table.  I
scanned the room, looking for some hint of a panic button.  The only
reassurance I got was the presence of an intercom speaker above the door.

   "Mr.  Worthington," I greeted him neutrally, carefully keeping the table
between us.

   "My office is so cramped, and there's always the chance of being
interrupted.  I thought this would be more comfortable.  Look, there's even
a sofa!"

   Oh joy!  I thought, pulling a chair out so I could take the weight off
my shaking legs.  "What can I do for you, sir?"

   "I just thought this would be a good opportunity to conclude my
interviews, find out how your Naked in School experience has been, discuss
any problems that might have cropped up."

   He was as smooth as the bare skin of my newly shaved pussy, I had to
give him that.  "Oh, it's going okay."

   "No bullying?  No insults?"

   Not unless "Truffula tree" qualified as an insult, I thought.  Actually,
I preferred it to The Stick, but I just shook my head.  "So far my
experience has been quite good.  I find being naked quite freeing, relaxing
even, and it seems to be well accepted by most of the students.  The boys
appreciate it, and some of the girls, if you get my drift.  I'm learning a
lot about my sexuality."

   I thought about complimenting him on how well he ran the program, but
decided that would be a bit much.

   "That's good, that's good," he murmured gently, fiddling with some
papers in front of him.  "Unfortunately, I am in receipt of yet another
Program Violation complaint involving you."

   My spider sense went into high gear.  "Another Program Violation?  I
don't believe I've received one before this."

   "Oh, yes, I'm sorry.  I'm confusing yours with Miss Hughes's, the one
you so eloquently defended her from."

   "I still say it was not a violation," I pointed out.

   "And I didn't punish her, if you'll recall," he answered.

   Not then, you slimy bastard, I thought.

   "Though I did find it necessary to place you in The Program for your
insolence."

   "Yessir," I agreed, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

   "But this latest one, well...."

   "What's the -- ah -- charge?" I asked, aware of sweat trickling down
from my armpits.

   "Refusal of a reasonable request, of course," he answered, "and
threatening the requester with legal action.  I'm sure you remember.  It
took place outside the lunchroom Wednesday, and there was a witness."

   There were a lot of witnesses, but I knew he was referring to Cagney's
sidekick Lacey.

   I took a deep breath.  "It was my right, as the program participant, to
decide whether the request was reasonable or not.  In fact, there was no
such request, and he touched me without my permission."

   He tsked.  "Miss Walker, as Program Coordinator it is my responsibility
to determine whether it is a reasonable request or not.  Not yours."

   I opened my mouth to quote the program pamphlet to him, but before I
could he went on.

   "However, I have been known to be lenient, even though this is not even
your first time in The Program for disciplinary reasons."

   My mouth snapped shut.  Ah hah!  Here comes the wind up.

   "For example, I might be willing to dismiss this offence, in return for
certain favors."

   And here comes the pitch, I thought, clenching my teeth, mentally
running up my curse jar tally as I desperately searched the room for
anything resembling a panic button.

   He must have seen my eyes darting around the room.

   "Relax, Miss Walker, I'm not asking anything of you that you have
probably not already indulged in, given your experience in the middle
school sex education program -- yes, I've heard of that -- and your wanton
display in the park last Sunday."

   If looks could kill he'd have been a smoldering pile of ashes.  I
wondered if this was the same slimy tactic he'd used on Peggy.  Poor Peggy,
who moped if she got a grade on a quiz below a "B," who had been known to
burst into tears if she got a foul called on her in soccer.  I was stone
faced, waiting.

   "For example, given your experience, I believe you have certain oral
skills that I might like to experience."

   "In other words, you want me to suck your cock."

   He merely nodded.  God I wished this were being recorded on video!

   "No!" I answered, clearly and firmly, just in case I should be so
outrageously lucky that through some incredible intervention by some higher
power this room was bugged.

   "Not even to have this latest charge against you dropped?  I'd like to
remind you that punishment can be a public spanking.  Think how humiliating
that would be, to have the whole school see your punishment."

   I took my time thinking this over.  Oh, not the punishment, no way would
that happen.  I was wondering how best to get him to solidly incriminate
himself, if I was so lucky someone was listening.  I was functioning on
pure rage now, my mind racing.

   "Let me get this clear.  You are offering to dispense with my punishment
if I agree to suck your cock."

   He nodded.  Damn!  Not good enough.  I wanted to hear the words!

   "Is that right?" I asked again, prodding him.

   "Yes."

   Gotcha!

   Except, I didn't.  Without a recording it would be my word against his.
I needed evidence.  "No!"

   "Miss Walker," he complained softly, "it's a simple act.  I bet you've
done it many times, even at your tender age.  Everyone knows you're a slut,
especially after that vile display you put on in the park, behaving like
the filthy bitch you are."

   "No."

   He began to turn red in the face.  "You slut!  You suck my cock or I
will give you the thrashing of your life!  I'll do it on the auditorium
stage, complete with sound and lights!  By the time I'm done you'll be
bawling like a baby!"

   "Fuck you!" I taunted.  Thank God, if this was being recorded he'd just
wrapped the noose around his own neck.

   But if it wasn't -- well, I'd been braced to resort to more extreme
measures.

   "That can be arranged, too!  How will you explain to your dear mother
why you have to eat standing up for a week?  Better, maybe I will fuck you,
like the bitch you are.  I was willing to let you off easy, but now I
won't. The price just went up, cunt.  First you'll suck my cock and then
I'll ram my dick right up your pussy, you worthless bitch.  Which will it
be, a blistered ass, and two more weeks in the program, and the scorn of
your classmates, or a quick suck and a fuck and you get off Scott free."

   He smiled, and it was not a pretty sight.  "Being the filthy slut you
are, I bet you might even enjoy it."

   I looked him in the eye for a long time, trying to give him the
impression I was thinking it over.  I was thinking, alright, thinking how I
could hang his worthless ass.  I was looking forward to turning this from
being a "my word against his" situation into a "now I've got your worthless
balls in my hand and I'm going to squeeze them until they pop" situation.

   What better way to get the evidence than to have him hand it to me, so
to speak.  I slumped, as if defeated.

   "Okay," I agreed dismally, wondering how Peggy had survived her
encounter with this eel.  "You tear up the complaint and I'll suck your
cock."

   "And you'll let me fuck you," he added nastily.  "You'll love it!"

   "If you'll tear up the complaint," I agreed reluctantly, vowing that I
would not enjoy this at all.

   "After you've sucked me and let me fuck you," he carefully agreed.  I
decided he had all the makings of a lawyer.

   I nodded.

   He pushed his chair away from the table.  "Get over here and get to
work, slut!"

   I didn't have to pretend to be reluctant.  I wanted this about as much
as I wanted an enema.  But, I went around the table, and got down on my
knees on the cold hard floor, eyeing his cock.  It was hard.  Oh yeah, he
liked 'em young and smooth, and he got off on dominating them.  I couldn't
think of a word low enough to describe him.

   He hooked his finger through the twine around my throat, and used it to
drag my head down toward his lap, the harsh string digging into the back of
my neck, his knuckle cutting off my breath, until I opened my mouth and
took his cock in.  Then he grabbed me by the ears.

   So I gave him a blow job, fighting the urge to bite down, hard, debating
whether I should risk taking his load, afraid if I did he'd not be able to
provide the donation I wanted in my cunt.  In the end I wound up swallowing
his come, not that he gave me any choice, since he used his grip on my ears
to jam my face down into his stinky lap, burying my nose in his pubic hair.


   Then, with more threats, he made me suck him back to life, bent me over
the table, and plundered me from behind.  To my disgust I learned that
while my mind rejected this, my body reacted otherwise -- I was lubricating
for him.  At least that way it didn't hurt too much, but I felt nothing but
hatred as he unloaded in my pussy, him pressing my cheek down hard on the
cool table, tears seeping through my closed eyelids.

   No, that's not right.  I also felt triumph, because by damn I was going
to nail his sorry ass with the goo he'd deposited in me if I had to march
all the way to the school office, pinching my cunt shut to keep it in.

   When he was finished I stood there, some of his jizz drying on my chin,
more sliding down the insides of my thighs, glaring at him until he picked
up that bogus Program Violation form.

   "And just remember," he said as he tore it up, "if you say anything, to
anyone, it'll be my word against yours, and who would believe a slut like
you?"

   Then I pulled myself together and let myself out of the room, my head
held high, knowing I'd won.

   I'd barely gotten the door closed behind me when I was astounded to find
myself supported by the loving arms of my mother from one side and Doctor
Elaine Smathers from the other.  Where the hell had they come from?  The
hall was crowded with cops, including Sanchez, all of them hushed quiet,
guarding the door with drawn guns, looking at me.

   So, did I greet them nobly and triumphantly?

   Nuh-uh.

   "I'm gonna throw up."

   "In here," Elaine ordered, holding some kind of a big peanut butter jar
or something in front of my face.  I proceeded to puke my guts out into it,
my mom holding me and cuddling me, wiping my forehead and drying my tears
as I was eased away, half doubled over.

   Still retching, I heard the door bang open, and a squawk from
Worthington that was quickly cut off.  Damn I wished I could have seen
that, woozy as I was!  I felt my legs giving way.

   "She's going into shock.  Get her on the gurney," Elaine ordered and I
was lifted, put on my back on a cushioned surface that suddenly moved. 
Someone raised my knees and a sheet was thrown over me.  Someone else
turned my head to the side, gave me squirts from a bottle of water to rinse
my mouth out, held a basin for me to spit in even as we raced along.

   "Where we going?" I asked, dazed, my nose running, my stomach aching, my
throat still sour with puke.

   "Nurse's office," Elaine answered, capping the jar.  "I'm going to run a
rape kit on you."

   "She's done it for the police before.  It won't hurt," Mom said, still
squeezing my hand, trotting along beside the gurney.

   "How'd you know where I was?"

   "Missy!  Didn't you know?  Apparently, somehow, she had people watching
you from the moment you were grabbed out of German class, probably before
that.  Don't ask me how she did it.  I think she scheduled relays of people
asking for bathroom breaks all afternoon to keep an eye on whatever room
you were in."

   I was swept around a corner, jostled into the nurse's room, which was
jammed.  Mom was eased out of the way while at least two medics fussed over
me, taking my pulse, my blood pressure, listening to my heart, shining
lights in my eyes, even sticking an IV in my arm while I kept insisting I
was okay.  Mrs.  Devers was there, tears in her eyes!  There were two cops
in uniform, one of them a woman, plus Detective Sergeant Kelly was taking
careful notes, while someone else was taking pictures.

   Someone made me open my mouth and I gagged when they swabbed my throat.
Elaine had flipped the sheet up, and in full view of everyone -- something
about chain of evidence, I guess, again I had no secrets -- she spread my
legs and did things inside my pussy and on the insides of my thighs and the
crack of my ass before she initialed a bunch of tubes and handed them off
to someone else.  After that she tenderly washed me, outside with soft,
warm cloths, inside with a warm douche, then covered me again.

   Someone gently cut and removed the twine from around my neck and I
wondered if Mrs.  Devers was going to want to replace it come Monday.

   Then Mom was back, hugging and kissing me, leaving me wet with her tears
and my own.

   Elaine continued the story.  "We had been listening in on your classes.
When you were called out Sanchez was furious.  She was ready to launch a
search when John came tearing into the office.  He was frantic, and told us
where you'd been taken, otherwise we never would have known.  It took a
minute to figure out which room, but they had the recording going when you
were saying something like 'he touched me without my permission.' By then
Sanchez was already leading a squad of police to seal off that hallway. 
And by the way, don't ever get in her way when she's on the hunt like that!
And who was the 'he' that touched you?"

   I remembered, I'd been talking about the incident that happened with
Cagney, before lunch.  "Last Wednesday.  That was Cagney, the same slob
that took me to Worthington."

   "You got it all on tape?" I asked Sergeant Kelly anxiously.

   "We got it all," Sergeant Kelly promised stoically, taking notes.  "Good
job.  We'll need a full statement from you."

   "Later," Mom snapped, guarding her cub again.  "I don't know what's on
that tape, and I don't want to know.  What I do know is that my daughter
was in there, being raped!  -- and if any of that gets out, any of it, I
will personally strangle whoever is responsible!" She was almost screaming.


   I didn't think it was possible, but Kelly looked worried -- more than
worried, scribbling more notes, shooting a warning look at some geek in the
corner, who was suddenly pale and sweating, and clutching tighter to an
evidence bag.

   "How did you guys get here so fast?" I asked Mom.

   "Oh darling, you didn't think I could let you go through all this alone,
did you?" Her eyes were leaking tears and she was squeezing my hand for
dear life.  "Elaine and I have been hiding in the school office ever since
lunchtime." Then she got angry.  "Diane Elizabeth Walker don't you ever do
anything like this again!  I should ground you for the rest of your life!"

   All three names!  She was really pissed.

   Then she hugged me half to death, crying again.

   Mrs.  Swain from Child Protection was there, taking her own notes, a
frown puckering her face.  Assistant DA Martha Graham wasn't there.  My bet
was she was reading Worthington his rights at that moment.  I wished I
could have been there for that.

   Mrs.  Devers leaned close.  "You got him!"

   It was the most wonderful words in the world.  "We got him," I corrected
her.

   "Lemme see her!  Is she okay?" Missy screamed from outside.  "Lemme in,
you fucking ape!"

   That was so totally unlike Missy I had to laugh.

   "Let her in!" I demanded, and I was surprised when they listened to me.

   When she appeared next to me, still naked in school, looking so scared,
I reached out and yanked her down on top of me, almost hanging her with the
IV tubing, and covered her face with kisses, and I tasted tears on her
cheeks, and she probably tasted them on mine, and she didn't complain a
bit.

   "Thank you, thank you, thank you!  I love you!" I murmured in her ear,
luxuriating in the feel of her wonderful naked body in my arms.  "You're
wonderful!"

   "I love you, too," she squeaked.  "I love you so much!"

   The crowd began to thin a bit as the evidence was taken away and the
photographer quit snapping away.  I hoped he was with the police and not
the local paper.

   I saw John peek in, then vanish, and reminded myself that he had earned
my eternal gratitude as well.  One by one the lunch bunch looked in, too,
even Peggy, but they didn't come in.

   "Are you okay?" How Greg had muscled his way in I didn't know, and Kathy
was with him!  "What the heck have you been up to now?  This place is
crawling with cops."

   "Catching a bad guy," Missy blubbered, still hugging me.  "A really,
really, really, bad, bad, bad, guy."

   When I stretched out one arm she reluctantly drew away and Greg gently
took her place and he felt good, and smelled good, and tasted good, and I
felt certain parts of me un-clenching, though I knew it would be a while
before they'd welcome anyone, even him, again.

   "We were worried when you didn't show up to model," Kathy explained,
taking my hand.  I'd have hugged her, too, but Greg wasn't about to let go
of me.  "We heard the commotion and just followed the noise here."

   At least they were both dressed.

   I teared up, again!  Where would I be without my friends?

   Finally Greg stood back, folding his arms, frowning.  "You owe us the
full story, but not right now.  I bet you completely forgot we have time
trials tomorrow, too."

   I shook my head.  I had to be in the worst condition of my life, but I
bravely told myself I'd kick his butt anyway!

   "Don't forget the committee meeting Monday," Mrs.  Devers added with a
little smile, her eyes twinkling.

   "Aw, c'mon, guys," I pleaded.

   "She's okay," the medic announced, removing the IV and pressing some
gauze on the puncture, "but we'd like to keep her overnight for
observation."

   "Forget it!" Mom, Elaine and I shot back in unison as he stuck tape over
the gauze.

   Then Mom took charge.  "Right now she's going home with me, she's going
to have a good meal...."

   "A bowl of alphabet soup?" I asked timidly, thinking of Peggy and
comfort food.  "At least to start with?  And some crackers?"

   "Followed by a good night's sleep," she concluded lovingly, "and don't
worry, Dr.  Smathers and I will keep her under close observation."

   "Yes'm." The medic recognized the inevitable when it hit him in the
face, I guess, and I felt warm and safe thinking of how close their
observation would be.

   I turned to Greg.  "Just you wait.  I'll kick your butt at the pool
tomorrow."

   "Dee!" Then Mom sighed, helped me sit up, and Elaine handed me my
clothes.