Bad Girl's Sexy Punishment
The figure wasn't at its usual place to drop off a pair of its special creations.
The nondescript form slipped in through the crowds at the First Baptists Church's clothes drive. The figure wove through the conservatively dressed crowd of people dropping off clothes in boxes, trash bags, and sometimes loose piles. The articles were dumped onto tables to be sorted to be distributed to those with less and in need. The figure was inspired to leave this pair of panties here. It was the perfect place for them.
They were muted compared to the last few it had made. A solid black color, waistband trimmed in lace, and with one unique feature: they were crotchless. Lace also surrounded the slit in the panties' gusset, allowing naughty access to the pussy of the lucky girl who donned them.
Chastity Reynolds was a good girl. The perfect one for the panties emblazoned with the all-capitalized letters, each one white and bold. "Bad Girl" they read.
With a flick of its wrist, the figure dropped the panties into a pile of clothing. Soon a girl, eighteen, would arrive to sort them. By then, the figure would be long gone, not remembered by anyone.
Chastity Reynolds, a sweet, blonde girl with her hair falling in a long braid on her back, arrived to gather up the next load of clothes to be sorted. They had to be separated by sex, by age, and then by sizes and types. There were laundry baskets waiting behind her, ready to receive the clothing as she processed them. She dumped her load on her sorting station, eager to help her church provide for those with need in her community. It made her feel fulfilled. It gave the girl such a thrill to be so helpful.
She froze when she came across the panties.
Underwear was
not
one of the things that were asked for. Not used. If they came sealed in packs, that was fine. But these were clearly used. She picked them up, and an electric tingle raced through her. She gripped them, stroking the lace. They were the naughtiest pair of panties she'd ever seen in her life. The eighteen-year-old girl shuddered, surprised by the liquid heat bursting inside of her. The wanton sensation was something alien to the good girl. It rushed through her. She blushed and she noticed the lace on the gusset.
She gasped as she poked her finger
through
the slit in the crotch. They were torn, but deliberately. The innocent girl didn't understand why someone would do that.
What's the point of wearing panties like these?
she wondered.
She turned them in her hand and gasped at the words printed in those bold, all-capitalized letters. "Bad Girl," she breathed, reading the phrase. "What are these doing here?"
Those two words galvanized her mind. Chastity was a good girl. Yes, she'd gotten in trouble, told a few fibs, tried to get out of eating her greens or not doing her homework, but she had never done anything truly
bad
.
She took her first step on that path as she balled up the panties and shoved them into her skirt's pocket. She gasped at what she'd done. She was stealing from the church's clothing drive.
Cheeks burning, she dove back into her sorting, hoping to forget she'd done anything so wicked.
* * *
Chastity Reynolds
I stared at the panties, my fingers stroking through the slit in the crotch. It was all I could think about since I stole them yesterday at the clothing drive. I couldn't believe I'd done that. But those two words, Bad Girl, just electrified me. They were so tantalizing. So at odds with everything that I was. Christians didn't steal. A Christian shouldn't want to wear something like this. And yet...
I wanted to wear them.
I squirmed, the heat rushing through me. It was Sunday, and I was back from morning service. I had changed out of my pink dress, standing only in my bra and panties now. I wanted to put on some casual clothes, to do my homework, and relax around the house before evening service. All I could think about during church service was the panties.
What would it be like to wear a pair that didn't have a crotch?
A shuddering, electric tingle raced on my fingers
demanded
that I don them.
Cheeks burning, I set the panties down on my bed and stood up. My small breasts quivered in my white bra. They were little A cups, not really needing the support, but a good woman wore her brassiere. That's what mama said.
I hooked the waistband of my panties and rolled them off my hips. I was shocked by the sweet musk that filled my nose. I groaned, realizing the scent was coming from the wet heat that had engulfed my pussy. I shouldn't think of my vagina as a pussy, but I couldn't help it. Bad girls had pussies.
Was I a bad girl now?
I stepped out of my panties and set them with care on my bed. I grabbed the black panties, the lace trim of the waistband caressing my fingers. I turned the pair in my grip until they were facing the right way. I stepped my right leg through the appropriate hole. I groaned as I slid my left leg through them and then drew the naughty panties up.
The electric tingles intensified.
Everywhere the cloth touched me came alive. A crackling sensation surged up my legs and reached my pussy, increasing the molten heat. I let out a groan of wanton pleasure. I shuddered, my breasts jiggling in my brassiere. I pulled the panties over my rear, the waistband riding low on my hips. My virgin sex clenched as a wicked sensation rippled out of me.
I glanced down and saw my blonde pubic hair peeking through the panties' slit.