The dormitory in the morning was the usual noisy hub-hub. The two eighteen-year-olds, Helene and Miranda, stayed under their bedding, looking at each other. They were rolling their eyes at the other girls arguing about their place in the showers, losing and finding their uniforms. Eventually the other schoolgirls left the dormitory. Miranda said: "I'm first," and leapt nimbly from her bed, discarding her pink checked pyjamas on the floor, and running naked to the shower room. Helene didn't mind, she wanted to take her time this morning, and the last thing she wanted was an audience.
Miranda came back into the communal bedroom, rubbing her dark hair dry with a towel.
"No time for a blow today," she said.
Helene got out of bed, picked up a towel and wandered into the shower.
The girls shared a communal shower, big enough for six or seven girls at one time. After all these years, Helene thought, it seemed silly to be self-conscious. She shampooed her hair, squirted gel into her hands, and washed herself. The water was a little cold at this time of the morning, and it made her nipples stand out from her breasts. She squeezed them, and laughed at the effect.
Miranda was saying something through the door. Helene couldn't hear a thing, she said:
"Sure, whatever", and started hunting around in her sponge bag for her razor.
Helene was very conscious of her lack of pubic hair. Only a few short blonde hairs graced her pussy - a pussy which had only recently been defiled by the school's doctor, and doubly so when her friend, Miranda had introduced her to her first meaningful lesbian experience. Helene shivered with pleasure. At the time, its seemed as though this was the beginning of a string of experiences, but now she was comes to terms with it as a one-off experience.
Miranda had told her that a sure-fire way of getting thicker pubes was to shave regularly, and so Helene squeezed some moisturizer into her hand, and rubbed it around her shower-damp pussy. She peered down, took her razor and with careful strokes, removed all the small hairs that were there. She turned around, letting the water wash the shower gel and moisturizer from her body and her hairless mound.
The water played in rivulets on her curves, and she allowed her hands to fall onto her body. She held her belly flat, making her clitoris appear more prominent.
She thought about looking down, meeting Miranda's eyes, as her schoolgirl friend drank down her fragrant cunt juice. Impatient, she rubbed her clit and her pussy, gasping with almost immediate pleasure, feeling the warmth and wetness between her legs. She thought about Miranda's tongue down there, licking her clean of the doctor's spunk. The memory of Miranda licking her lips brought Helene to an immediate, shuddering, panting climax.
Her breathing was fast, each breath a small cry of pleasure, until the orgasm burst in her loins, lighting fires in tits, and her belly and her cunt. For a moment, she lent with her head against the cold, white tiles, letting the shower wash her clean.
Drying herself with a slightly damp towel, Helene started picking her uniform. The dress from yesterday, a new blouse. Shoes could use a polish, but they'd have to do. A pair of thick, black stockings. But no knickers. She opened her drawers wildly. Surely she must have a pair somewhere... but her hunt was in vane. Miranda's then: she'd borrow one of those lacy panties, or an exotic thong, one that would barely cover her cunt lips, let alone keep her warm. But Miranda's drawer was just as bare.
Helene, otherwise dressed, panicked. She went through every bedside drawer in the dormitory, but every single girl was out of underwear.
The bell rang - the breakfast register! She picked up her book bag - knickerless or not, she was going to have to get going.
In the refectory, all the girls were sitting quietly, waiting for the Head to start his morning annoucements. Helene grabbed a glass of orange juice, a banana and a piece of toast from the canteen. A teacher was waiting by the canteen, Helene said: "sorry miss, I couldn't find....", but the teacher waved her apology away.
Helene squeezed in next to Miranda. She spoke carefully, out of the corner of her mouth: "where have my knickers gone?"
Miranda smirked.
Helene looked around at the other girls from her dorm on the table. They all knew, she realized, they had to know, they were all looking at her, knowing that she was on display for all the world to see. Helene clamped her legs together, suddenly conscious of the cool breeze playing on her pussy, pulling the bottom of her dress over her lap.
After the Headmaster had spoken, the girls started talking.
Helene spoke to Miranda again: "what have you done with my knickers?"
Miranda said: "don't worry, they're safe," and picked up her bag.
Helene ran after her, suddenly very self-conscious about the way her dress was flapping up, in danger of showing everyone a lot more than her stocking tops.
"What did you do with them?"
Miranda turned, put her finger to her lips.
"It's a punishment," she whispered, "you'll get them back when you play nice with the other girls."
And with that, Miranda went into her classroom.
Helene had geography now, it was in the new block, around the back of the old school. The wind whipped around the courtyard, and Helene did her best to trot across the gravel while clamping her dress down with her hands. When she got to the new block, she was just behind the teacher, Mr Byrne. He was, she supposed, in his 30s, rather swarthy man with a cruel mouth. Helene thought: "gosh, he's not a nice man, not like Doctor Clarke."
My Byrne held open the door for Helene.
"Come along Ash," he said, wearily.
Helene started to climb the three flights of stairs to the geography labs, but Byrne stopped her.
"Here, carry this," he said, giving her a laptop case.
Helene waited for him to pick up a heavy looking projector.
"Don't wait for me, for heavens sake," the teacher said, grunting as he picked up the projector, "just go on up."
Helene had to carry the laptop in both hands, her schoolbag hanging from her forearm. As she climbed the stairs, she felt her dress sliding up her legs with each step, she felt Byrne's penetratingly dark eyes playing on her legs, hoping to catch a glance of her soft white thighs above her stockings.
Someone had left a door open, and a wind was rising in the stairwell. Helene's dress blew up, she could feel the cool air on her arse and her pussy. She struggled to hold her dress down and carry the laptop, but it was too difficult for her.
When they were half way up, the Head of Humanities, Mr Kelly was waiting. In his 50s, with greying hair, Mr Kelly was a giant of a man, with a broad chest and powerful shoulders. He looked, Miranda thought, as if he could pick two girls up, one under each arm, and carry them back to his cave.
Mr Byrne said, "Ah, Kelly, will you walk up with me? The projector in my lab is broken again, and there's something I want you to look at."
They fell into step behind the struggling Helene, both men gazing up the stairs at the schoolgirl's humiliatingly exposed bum.
Helene glanced around: it was shameful, disgusting, these two middle-aged men wanting her so transparently, they weren't even bothering to hide their arousal. Dr Clarke had been one thing, but the cruel-faced, sardonic Byrne and Mr Kelly, taut with physical strength was just too much.
Kelly and Byrne didn't even bother speaking, they just looked up at the teenager's firm young arse, her shapely legs, the promising thighs above her stockings, the perfectly hairless pussy: the two men were of one mind.
Helene's face was flushed red, with exertion and shame. The men followed her all the way up to the top of the block, not saying a thing. When the party got to the classroom door, they didn't even hold it open for her, but watched her as she struggled to keep it open with her feet. She glanced down at their trousers. Both men were clearly fully erect beneath their suits. With a sense of shock, Helene could see that Kelly's cock was making his trousers bulge out half way down his thighs. She caught his eyes: he winked at her, and she blushed again.
Helene took her place in the classroom, keeping her legs angled well away from Mr Byrne's view, holding them close together. The lesson was as dull as ever. At least there was a DVD for the second 40 minutes. Mr Byrne busied himself with the screen and the project.
"Helene Ash, please put the blinds down."
He didn't even bother looking at her. Helene stood up with a sense of impending dread. To get the blinds down, you had to hook a metal eye with a long pole and twist. The first two or three, near the teacher's desk, were fine, but the ones at the back were always tricky. And the blind at the back of the classroom wouldn't go down at all. Helene didn't bother with it, hoping that Byrne wouldn't notice.
"All of them."
"But sir, that one's broken."
Byrne stood up.
"It'll come down if you get up there and jiggle it around."
He turned the lights down, the laptop was booting up. He walked to the end of the classroom, where Helene was desperately trying to mount the worktops and keep her modesty.
Byrne met her eye.
"Just get up there, girl," he said, witheringly.
Helene lent forward and pushed herself up on the polished worksurface. She could feel Byrne behind her, she thought:
"I can feel his breath on my bare thighs."
She trembled, Byrne said:
"Hold still, girl."
He put his hands just above her knees, as if to hold her still. Helene could feel him gripping her thighs, staring up at her naked, hairless pussy. You didn't argue with Mr Byrne. He'd do just what he wanted to do, and he'd expect you to like it.
Helene carried on prodding at the blind's metal loop. When it came free, it shot down, surprising them both, and Helene stepped back, feeling Byrne's hands slide up her thighs to her smooth arse. Getting down from the stool, he still hadn't let go and she felt him deliberately press his hard cock into her soft cheeks.
The film was boring. Byrne was listless. He brought his chair down and sat at the side of the class, but he didn't bother looking at the screen. He played with the long wooden pole that Helene used for the blinds. His dark eyes flickered malevolently across the class. Helene kept her legs angled away from him, holding tightly onto the bottom of her dress.
When she first felt it, she thought an insect had landed on her leg. She went to brush it away from her thigh, but found it wasn't an animal, but the top of the long wooden pole that was pushing on her thigh. She looked up. Byrne was looking directly at her. He was mouthing something, pushing against her thigh with the pole. It wasn't hard to translate: "open your legs". Reluctantly, Helene parted her legs.
She felt the wooden pole creep over her stocking tops, Byrne was pushing the skirt up, exposing her for all the world to see. Helene angled around in the chair, compelled to let the teacher see whatever he wanted.
Now Byrne had an uninterrupted view of her pussy and he manoevred the wooden pole until it was on her pubic mound. He let it slide down between her legs, and then lifted it again, parting Helene's plump pussy lips, rubbing her clit from below.
Helene could feel the tell-tale warmth spreading between her legs, as the wooden pole probed her, played with her.
She thought: "this is so wrong, so why is he making me feel like this?"
She stared at him furiously, angry that this man could create this sexual arousal in her, using an entirely inanimate object.
Her clitoris was getting hard, prominent, needed. Helene thought: "I'll give him a show, the pervert", and started touching herself, playing with her clit, parting her cunt lips to let Byrne's pole in deeper.
But that wasn't what the teacher wanted: with a painful rap across her knuckles, he brought the pole down on her hands, stood up, and turned the lights on.
The girls stood up, chatting, picking up bags, preparing to go to lunch. Helene crouched down on the floor, not wanting to lean over and give all the girls an eyeful of her smooth, hairless pussy, with its protruding lips. Just as she was leaving the classroom, he called out:
"Ash, stay behind."
The other girls laughed, and made snide comments. Helene stood at the front of the classroom.
"Stay there, Helene. We need to have a conversation."
Mr Byrne left the room, shutting the door behind him. Helene waited nervously for him. She could feel that he was going to make use of her in some way, and although nervous about his demands, a thrill was playing inside her.
The door opened, and Mr Kelly and Mr Byrne came in.
"Did you know that Mr Kelly wrote the uniform rules?"
Helene shook her head dumbly.
