Alice Grant was the most difficult student in my 8th period 12th grade English class. Not because she was disruptive, or rude, or lazy, or any other typical motive of a problem student. In fact, she was a model student academically, with straight A's and near perfect attendance. No, Alice was difficult due to how she wore her school clothes. The girls' uniform was a simple white, short-sleeved, button-down shirt with a blue and white, plaid, pleated skirt. A jacket, leggings, and tie were optional. Alice never wore the jacket and leggings, and rarely wore the tie. Alice barely even wore the shirt and skirt.
She preferred shirts a size too small and to leave the top three buttons undone. She rolled the waistband of her skirts in on itself repeatedly until she was able to shorten the inseam by a hand's length. Sometimes, if it was outside school hours or during lunch or a class whose teacher didn't care (or preferred it), she would leave the bottom three buttons of her shirt undone as well, leaving it hanging on by the single middle button. She'd use the loose fabric at the hem and occasionally the red uniform tie to form a bow at the height of that middle button, right where her waist sat, exposing every inch of skin between the bottom of her ribs and top of her hip bones. To put it lightly, Alice had trouble following the dress code.
Her choice of fashion didn't stop at just the uniform items, they even extended to her undergarments. Alice rarely wore a bra, despite having one of the largest chests in the grade. When she did wear one, it was something skimpy, lacy, and red or black, designed to be shown off. She frequently wore black fishnet tights, occasionally with a garter belt, and seemed to enjoy getting in arguments with faculty over them being "basically just like the leggings". Due to Alice's preferred skirt length, catching a glimpse of her underwear wasn't a rare event. I can't completely bash the girl; at least she wore underwear, however indecent they may be.
That is until today, the day that she didn't. It's a Friday and the last class of the day, so the students were getting impatient to start their weekend. Alice, always a pleasant student, sat quietly at her desk in the back row and far left column completing her assignment. Her seat is the closest to my desk, giving me a view of the back of her head all class. She finished her worksheet and put down her pencil, which then rolled onto the floor beneath the front of her desk. She sighed and stood, walking behind her chair and dropping to her hands and knees. She lowered her upper body to the ground, reaching for the pencil, while her hips remained high in the air. Her shortened skirt was hiked up even higher, revealing the contents underneath, or rather lack thereof.
Alice wasn't wearing underwear today. With her seat right in front of my desk, I could see the absence of fabric clear as anything. She seemed to have trouble reaching the pencil and I couldn't help but gape at the sight. Along with a lack of underwear, Alice had a lack of pubic hair, leaving everything as visible as it could be without her spreading her legs-- oh, and now her legs are spread, slightly lowering her closer to the ground with her back still arched and her hips high.
Even though her knees were only maybe a foot apart, the way that Alice's cunt was laid out showed everything needed for an human anatomy textbook illustration. She had small to non-existent inner and outer lips and a small oval clit. It was all a pale pink and slick with a surprising amount of wetness. I couldn't help but imagine if she ever leaked onto her seats during class. Finally grabbing her pencil, Alice's hips gave a small shake before she stood back up.
I was speechless. My eyes couldn't move from where she had been. The brief wiggle of her ass and exposed cunt played over and over again in my head. My mouth felt dry, my face warm, and my pants unusually tight. I sat there silently for a couple minutes, regaining my composure, staring intently at the back of Alice's head. This was so beyond a dress code violation that it wasn't even funny. I had to call her to my desk to give her a referral, no matter how uncomfortable yet oddly appealing the idea was.
I cleared my throat. "Alice." I said with a quiet but stern tone. Her head whipped around, her long, straight, red hair flipping behind her shoulder. "I need to speak with you, please come to my desk."
Alice did as she was told and rose from her seat, walking to stand next to where I was sitting behind my desk. "Yes, Mr. Jones?" She asked in her light, sing-song voice. I cleared my throat again, holding eye contact with a look of severity.
"It seems that you're committing a very severe dress code violation," I dropped my voice several decibels to just over a mutter. "I'm quite sure that underwear is a mandatory part of the school uniform." Alice's already fair-toned face went pale and her eyes widened. She said nothing but gave me a quick nod, trying to break eye contact. I was the teacher, so it was my job to assert my authority. I stuck my finger out towards her and then at me, forcing her eyes back to meet mine. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" I asked.
She shook her head shortly and whispered, "No, sir, I'm sorry, sir." My pants felt further tightened at her words and expression. She dressed like this today on purpose, she knew what she looked like, and yet expected no one to notice her lack of underwear. Or for anyone who noticed to say nothing.
My jaw tightened. "Very well," I said, curtly, handing her a small slip of paper. "Fill out this referral sheet, you'll be having detention with me after school today." Her face fell even further. "It ends at 4:30. I know you don't ride the bus, so do you need to contact your parents about picking you up at that time?"
She shook her head, barely turning it side to side, and whispered again, "I walk home."
I gave her a tight smile. "That makes that easy, then. Now," I lowered my voice again, "do you have anything with you that you can put on to keep yourself, ahem, covered?" This time her pale skin turned a bright rosy pink. She shook her head yet again, the shame on her face palpable. The embarrassment seeping from her every pore was doing something to me, mainly to my cock that was further straining against my pants. "Very well," I said. "I suppose since you were comfortable enough to wear your current attire all day that you'll have no problem with it for an extra two hours?"
Alice looked like she was about to collapse in on herself, but she still managed a whispered "no, sir".
I nodded. "Please return to your seat, Alice. Keep yourself busy until the bell rings."
She carefully turned around and headed back to her seat, her hands at her sides keeping her skirt down. Something in me couldn't help but feel immensely pleased at the interaction. I'd watched Alice many times before, of course; it didn't matter that she was only 18, a man would have to be blind or stupid not to. I'll even admit to thinking about exactly what I had just seen a few times in the past. Catching the young girl just a bit too scantily clad and teaching her a lesson for it. A light bulb went off in my head: a lesson. A lesson is exactly what she needed and I had a few ideas on how to teach it to her.