Bad First Day

I walk with a quickened pace down this school corridor. It's my first day in this high school, and I'm trying my best to make a good impression and not look too stupid. I reported to gym just like my school schedule said, but I didn't know you needed a pen and paper. At my old school we never used pen or paper in gym. And of course, none of my new classmates told me.

I can't believe my family moved in my senior year. I'm 18, why couldn't they have just got me an apartment so I could stay in my old school? I had to move in the middle of the year to a new state where I don't know anyone.

The day hasn't gone too horrible, but I get really nervous, really easy. And I admit, I'm scared. It might be silly, but I'm almost terrified. I know at any moment someone is going to bully or tease the new girl, and I've never been good and standing up for myself. At least no one has messed with me. I've kept my head down and gone class to class without talking to anyone.

I hate to admit, but I know I'm a natural target for bullies because of my bust size. I always wear baggy tops and jackets to hide it, but having 38 F breasts is very hard thing to hide, especially when you have to wear this school's ugly gym clothes, which consists of a gray t-shirt and red gym shorts.

My eyes lit up when I finally find the girl's locker room. Earlier I was following everyone else. Now that I'm alone, I'm having trouble finding it. This school isn't laid out in any way that makes sense. But this door looks like the locker room's door, I think. It's not labeled or anything, but I'm pretty sure it's the locker room.

Once I open the door, I rush in as I'm already late for class, and there's no better way to draw attention to you than to enter a class late. I make it a few steps in the room before I see it's not the locker room at all. It's appears to be some sort of old sport equipment storage. There are tons of metal bookcases/shelves lining the walls, except for one wall, which is bare.

The air smells very sweet in here for some reason. It smells of old shoes, and that sweet, herbal smell. Then I recognize what that smell is; weed. As soon as I recognize it, I see the 2 people in the corner of this dimly lit room. There's a very rough looking boy and a smaller rough looking girl next to him, and in her hand is a joint.

"Oh! Excuse me," I say without thinking, as they both look bewildered. "I'll...I'll just go," I say, my heart beginning to pound as I've come across something I shouldn't have seen. Turning around, I see the door shut and another boy stand in front of it like a guard.

"What's the hurry?" The boy sitting next to the girl says menacingly. With fear moving up my spine, I turn back. "I, I need to get to class," I explain weakly. "I thought this was the locker room," I confess, and then all three laugh, making my face redden.

"You're new," the guy comments. Looking at me he has a very nasty grin, the type that only criminals would wear. "Yeah," I respond, "It's my first day." Inside I have a faint hope this will clear this matter up so I can go.

"She's a little miss perfect," the girl says mocking, her face showing she doesn't like me for some reason. "Gonna run straight to the first teacher she sees," the girl sneers, looking at me with daggers. "No! No, I won't," I exclaim quickly, my voice unnormally high. "I don't do that s-s-stuff myself, but I d-d-don't care if you do it," I try to explain, pointing to the joint.

The boy begins to walk towards me, and the size difference between us is very noticeable. I'm barely 5 foot and weigh close to 130, and he's at least 6 foot and 200. There's no denying that he could easy out power me, even without with friends.

"Well, new girl," he says, standing a foot away. "Let us give you the...new girl inspection," he offers in a half mocking, half serious tone. Inspection? I don't like the sound of that. I really don't like the sound of that. I open my mouth to comment, but stop. I don't have any choice. The one guy is blocking the door, if I try to run, he's just stop me before I get out. And if I did run, they will surely beat me.

"I-I-Inspection?" I stammer, fear making goose bumps on my skin. "Yes. Just like the cops give," he explains menacingly. Unable to help it, I gulp in fear and my body trembles lightly as I just stare up into his thug-like eyes.

"Go to the wall. Face it," he orders with a stiff nod of his head at the bare wall. I look partly confused, thinking this is just a joke. But his face shows he's not joking in the least. Again I consider running, or maybe screaming, but think better of it. Even if I screamed, I could get choked to death before anyone comes. If I just do what he says, maybe he won't be so mean.

With my face burning red, I walk to the wall. As I walk, I hear both the girl and the guy at the door laugh. "What are you doing Jake?" The girl asks, and the boy that ordered me responds, "Like I said, a new girl inspection."

I reach the wall, looking at the ugly brick, praying he doesn't slam my face into it. "Hands on the wall," Jake barks, sounding very intimidating. Closing my eyes, and feeling like a coward, I put my hands on the wall like I'm ordered. This of course makes even more laughter.

From out of nowhere, something slaps my ass, hard. Yelping in pain, my hands move behind to cover my bottom from whatever it was. Turning, I see Jake right behind me, his hand raised. My face reddens as I know he just spanked me. My ass stings but not as bad as my humiliation stings from this stranger spanking me while his friends laugh.

"Did I say to turn around? Put your fucking hands on the wall!" He growls, his face becoming wild. Scared as I picture him slamming his fist in my face, I spin back to the wall and put both hands up to it. Another spank comes, stinging my ass worse. The shorts and my panties provide little protection against his hard bare hand slap. Then another one comes, and I press my body against the wall as I winch in pain.

"This is to teach you not to go where you are not wanted," Jake says like a principal or teacher, and then spanks my ass again. My ass stings worse than I've ever felt. The last time I was spanked was when I was 5 and it was nothing like this. What's makes it worse is the stoned laughter from the girl.

Gasping in shock, I feel perhaps the worse feeling possible; my gym shorts are tugged and fall to my feet. I feel them bunched around my feet, while my black cotton panties are on full display. In a daze, I just stare forward at the wall as I hear them laughing at me in my underwear. My mind tells me to pick them back up, but I don't. If I did, Jake would just get mad and tug them back down.

A new spank hits now, much harder than before. This time, the sound of his hand slapping bounces around the room. With only a thin layer of cotton, his hand basically makes skin contact. He's spanking me. Spanking me. And I'm letting him. I should turn around and spit in his face then knee him as hard as I can, but I don't. I'm scared and don't want to be hurt.

Several more slaps happen, making my ass so tender I can't help but press into the wall harder, hoping I could slide through it. Each spank gets harder and louder, which makes laughter harder and harder.

"I see this isn't making an impact," Jake comments thoughtfully, taking a break from spanking. In horror, I feel his rough hands grab the waistband of my black panties. Groaning, I feel my underwear fall down to join my shorts around my ankles. Utterly humiliated, with a face redder than an apple, my bare ass is exposed to everyone. Not just my bare ass, but my bare red ass. The laughter is almost reaching a fever pitch, the girl being the loudest. I can't see her, but from the way she sounds she must be bent over, hardly able to breathe.

Again, I know I should stop this, to scream or do something, but I don't. All I do is keep my hands on the wall like they were nailed down, and feel ashamed as my bottom is exposed. Even if did run to the door, I would trip on my shorts/panties. I'm stuck. I'm helpless.

"See, she's a good girl, and doesn't fight back," Jake mockingly states. "Though, I have to say, her ass is very disappointing. It's small and rather flat," he adds, my face burning hotter. I'm not just exposed, but now being made fun of. "Yeah, there's barely anything there," the girl agrees, "I think you could at least make it redder." My mouth drops but before I can say anything, I feel a bare hand slap my bare ass, which is by far the worst. The stinging and burning feeling on my tender bottom is almost unbearable. And he keeps going, smacking my left cheek hard, then right, then both, while the sound of clapping echoes.

"Let me try!" The girl demands, and I hear her excited feet race up. Then a smaller hand spanks, not harder but faster. Laughs hysterically, she spanks my bare ass again. "You wanna try Mark?" The girl asks and the boy at the door moves. A second later, I feel another slap, this once much, much harder. It's so hard, I yelp in pain with watery eyes. That's going to leave a bruise.

"I think that's enough," Jake says, and I want to cry in relief. This is over. OVER! They will laugh at me, and laugh when they see me in the halls, maybe even tell a few people what they did, but this is over. I hold back tears as I can feel their eyes examining what they have done to my bare ass.

"Now," Jake says and I hear him move backward with the other two. "I want you to lift your shirt and your bra so those puppies can breath," Jake orders, and though I'm not touched it feels like I was punched. This isn't over at all. It's getting worse.

He wants me to...expose my breasts? My breasts?! I'm still facing the wall so they won't see if I do, but I'll practically be naked! Already my womanhood is freed, and I'm thankful they can't see it, but it's horrible to have it uncovered. As if someone else was controlling them, my shaking hands leave the wall and grab the bottom of my shirt. Without a word, I lift my shirt up, showing the wall my bare stomach. When I reach the bottom of my bra cups, I take a deep breath. Letting it go, I hook my fingers in the bra cups and jerk upward.

Immediately, I feel the warm flesh of my breasts against my hands as they bounce out. Both breasts come out, almost touching the cold wall. A form of humiliation I didn't think possible takes over now, as I've just released my breasts like a whore on Girls Gone Wild. The tight protection that my bra gives when it held them now presses against the tops of my breasts, accenting the exposure.

"Good girl, now, hands at your sides," Jake orders and the group is surprisingly quiet. I lower my hands and the line, "practically naked" repeats over and over in my mind, as I feel the air on my practically naked body.

"Turn around," Jake orders with anticipation. "Make sure you keep your hands at your sides," the girl quickly adds, her words hitting me almost like a physical blow. She's a girl! How can she just sit by and watch all of this! Can't she put herself in my place? How would she like it if she had to expose herself like a cheap slut to a bunch of bullies?

I wait one second more, then, taking very small steps, I begin to turn. A feeling deep inside tries to prepare myself for the humiliation I'm about to feel. To make matters worse, the small steps I take make my breasts jiggle. I feel them moving and bouncing, knowing all the wisecracks and comments they are about to come. I'm half way turned now and just stare straight ahead. They see one breast now and my hip. In another moment they will see that I like to shave myself and how large my breasts are. Then the names will come as they will make fun of me.

Finally I'm turned all the way with my front completely facing them, my face bright red in shame. I don't look at them, instead I look a little upward, unable to look. "Holy shit, what fucking size are those?!" The one named Mark exclaims, knocking me down more. "Those are huge," Jake agrees. "And she shaves," he adds, and in the corner of my eye he points. Like an object at the zoo, I stand there silent while they examine my most private parts. A new feeling of hopeless starts inside me making my shoulders slump. I feel defeated. The only thing I can do now is hope they won't rape or physically hurt me.

"New girl, tell us the size of your tits," Jake orders crudely. I feel my lips tighten; I've always hated guys calling breasts 'tits,' it demeans them. "And when you say it, say 'my big tits are ____.' Got it?" Jake adds like he's reading my mind. "My...my b-b-big t-t-tits...are 38 F," I admit and hear one of them gasp. I may not be looking at them, but I can feel the evil smile the girl must be giving.

"Why you shave? You a whore?" Mark questions in a mocking manner. "No," I reply softly. "I...I just think hair there is g-gross," I explain, and feel even more violated as I'm sharing personal information. I'm actually talking about my vagina region to these monsters.

"You a virgin?" The girl asks, diving deeper inside my personal life. A new wave of red hits my face as I refused to answer this normally. After a moment, I answer softly, "No." This makes them chuckle. "You got a boyfriend, new girl?" Jake asks curious. I want to yell 'why does it matter! Let me go!' but I don't. I don't even think about running because even if I got to the hall, I'm showing off everything!

"No, I just moved here," I admit in an almost emotionless tone. "Not surprising, who in their right mind would want a cowardly, flat assed, freak, big titty whore like you?" Jake responds very cruelly, making me almost cry. His two friends of course laugh at this.

Jake stands up and walks towards me as his two friends keep sitting. My body tenses as I fear he's going to hit me, or worse, fondle my exposed breasts, or worse, grope my exposed womanhood, but he doesn't. Instead he puts one foot between my legs to step on my shorts/panties.

"Step out of them," he grunts and looks down, getting an up close view of my body. Sighing deeply, not wanting to do this, I none the less lift my right leg. Even if they were at my feet, something about still having my shorts/panties was comforting. Now, with my right leg completely out, I feel more naked than ever. Then, I move my left leg, my arms reflectively moving to cross over my chest to stop my breasts from jiggling too much. This is something I do to make sure they don't move too much, which can be an issue without a bra. I am completely naked from my waist down.

Jake picks up my shorts and panties and holds them up in front of my face. I want to reach and grab them from his hands, but I don't. I just stand there, like a coward as he steals my clothes. I'm forced to watch as he pulls my panties from my shorts and then tosses my shorts in the corner. The next thing he does, makes the other two laugh the hardest so far; he puts my own panties on my head. He pulls the waistband over my head and acts like they are a mask. Humiliated, my panties are pulled down so they cover one eye and part of my face.

After he does, he steps back to examine his work with a smile, as his friends crack up. Still, I don't move or even say anything. How much of a coward am I to let him do this? Now I can't leave for sure. I'm partly naked with my panties on my head. I bet if I asked, they would let me go too, just to laugh more as I leave naked. There's no way I could let the rest of school see me like this. I could never show my face again.

A hand slaps my arms, then my hands, and then my forearms repeatedly. Feeling them, I know what Jake is doing. My hands are still crossed over my chest. I let them drop to my sides with yet another humiliated sigh as they jiggle from the move. Jake moves his hands up to grab my right arm's sleeve. He grunts as he pulls on it and instantly, the sleeve begins to rip. With a great deal of force he pulls in two directions, making the cheap t-shirt rip more. This serves as a terrifying reminding of just how strong he is, and for me to not disobey. It takes him a few seconds, and a few more times to get a grasp, but he rips my gym shirt completely off and lets the remains fall to the floor.

Now I'm breathing much harder, almost panting in fear and humiliation. I keep praying that he doesn't hit me. If he can do that to my shirt, oh dear, he could hurt me very badly. Please, don't let him hurt me. I whimper as he grabs the right bra strap in one hand and then the bra cup in the other. He grabs them, not caring or even noticing he's touching my bare flesh. Then, acting like my bra is nothing more than a fly, he rips it apart. He goes to the left strap, and my best bra is broken in half, and I watch it fall to the ground.

Naked. I'm naked. Completely naked, except for my own panties, which are around my head. The term bullied could never describe this. To be naked, your clothes stolen and torn apart while people laughed at you. I'm naked. I'm helpless.

"Much better," Jake says happily, and then the bastard winks. I try not to show my fear, but that's impossible, my body trembles. Jake joins the others in laughing at me like I'm an object. "What should we do with this new toy?" Jake asks as he goes back to his friends. His back is turned to me as he walks forward and starts looking for something on the shelves.

"Make her do jumping jacks?" Mark suggests with a laugh. "I say bust out a scale and weigh those huge tits," the girl says in a high giggle. They make plenty more humiliating suggestions, but I just stand here in a humiliated daze, knowing how helpless I am. All of their suggestions are aimed at my breasts, with the suggestions getting meaner and meaner.

Suddenly, I feel something being put on me from overhead like a shirt. Surprised, I try to look up and when I do, I see Jake, forcing something very tight over me. At first I think it is a shirt as I feel the way it constricts my upper arms, but the feel of it is wrong, it feels rough and frayed. Seeing it, I gasp out in shock and horror. It's a basketball net, an old, dirty, basketball net. Jake tugs it forcefully down and it gets tighter and tighter, constricting my arms and squeezing my breasts against me very painfully. He keeps on and on, making it go as far as it can down, the rough textured netting going over my nipples, flicking them.

Jake stops and backs up. I try to move my hands, but I can't. The net is so tight, it's pinned both of my arms to my sides. I try as hard as I can to move them, but I can't. Looking down, the net is on me like some deformed shirt, stopping at mid stomach and going all the way to below my shoulders. The way it squeezes my breasts is the worst. It feels like a bunch of ropes are wrapped on me, squeezing my breasts to mush them like playdoh. Already I feel the lines of the net being imprinted on them. The pain is so bad, that I block out the excited laughter of the crowd. But I do hear, "Nothing but net."

"P-p-please," I stammer, finding my voice. I whimper constantly now, my body swaying and moving as my legs are pressed together to deal with the pain. "What?" Jake asks with a huge smile as if this is normal. My face burns more and more as I can't believe I'm about to say this. "M-m-my b-b-breasts," I whimper, winching at the pain. "You mean your tits. You call them tits," Jake corrects like a teacher. "My t-tits," I correct myself, too much laughter. "Please, t-t-they are being mashed," I whine, feeling the lines being imprinted deeper.

"And? What you want me to do?" He scoffs, uncaring. I close my eyes for a moment to overcome this new wave of humiliation. "C-c-can you at least....make h-holes for them?" I ask weakly, never thinking in a million years I would ask someone to make holes for my breasts in a basketball net. "Make holes for what?" Jake asks, wanting his one word. "Can you m-make h-holes for my tits," I ask.