Rebecca was running really late to school. It didn't help that there was so much ice on the ground, it made it difficult to run. In addition, the large tote bag she was hauling, filled with her schoolbooks, kept jostling into her side, disturbing her balance. Several times, she found herself skidding on the empty streets and plopping down on what had been a transparent sheet of ice. Years of gymnastic training seemed to be working against her as her legs kept flying open in a perfect split, causing her to land smack dab on her crotch. Under her uniform skirt were only cotton panties, now freezing cold, since she'd had no time to even pull on her tights before running out the door and racing across her small town.
Finally, she made it to the high school. It was too early for even the smokers to be hanging off the sides of the building, but halfway into the first period. Rebecca huffed her way up the stairs leading to one of the side entrances, hoping she could sneak into one of the girl's bathrooms, hole up there for the remainder of the period and then squeeze seamlessly into her next class. Nearly out of breath, shoulder hurting from where the tote bag hung, Rebecca made the mistake of slowing down once she got inside the school, walking down the empty hallway. Rubbing her neck and trying to slow her breathing, chest rising and falling with obvious labor, she reacted too slowly to the sound of footsteps coming up behind her.
"Hey!"
Rebecca made an eep sound in the base of her throat, startled into actually quickening her steps like she was going to bolt away. But the long, purposeful strides of one of the security guards easily overtook her, a beefy hand making a grab for the eighteen year old's shoulder.
"And where do you think you're going?"
Rebecca felt her body turning around against her will, the large hand on her shoulder pushing her to step back and lean against the wall. Reluctantly, she looked up to see a man about her father's age, though a little more heavy set, and the lines edging into his face made it seem like he rarely ever smiled. "Um," Rebecca glanced at the nametag pinned to his uniform. "Just going back to class, Kenny." She tried to smile sweetly, as if the hand resting on her shoulder didn't make her the least bit nervous.
"Hall pass." Kenny waited for her to produce one, then snorted at the helpless expression lighting her eyes. "Yeah, I thought so. You're not going back to class. You're nearly forty minutes late. Come with me. I have to write you up."
"Oh, no, please." The pressure on her neck forced her to accompany the older man back the way they'd came, towards where the security guards had their office. It was little more than a hole in the wall, just room enough for a desk no one really used, a security monitor that didn't work, attached to cameras that weren't on, and a cramped locker. "One more and I have to go to detention."
"Standard procedure." Kenny grunted, finally letting go of her after closing the door behind them. It was so tight in there, she was momentarily forced to drop her bag and place her palms on the surface of the desk to stop from falling as his front pressed against her backside. He squeezed around her, and then behind the desk on the other side, sitting down with a huff.
There wasn't a chair for her, so Rebecca stood there, gnawing at her bottom lip, arms crossed beneath her chest. She felt miserable. Her shoulder was sore, her panties were still soaked in ice, pressed uncomfortably between her bare thighs, and now she was going to have to serve detention even though she'd tried really hard to get to school on time.
"Please, Kenny," She'd read somewhere that the use of someone's name encouraged familiarity and empathy or something. "I promise I won't ever be late again, can't you just let me off the hook this one time?"
"Name." He grunted, dragging a form out from beneath the desk and splaying it in front of him, pen already etching out the date at the top.
"Rebecca Meadows." She wet her lips, cold and trembling.
"Year? Homeroom number?"
She gave it to him, then abruptly teared up, her words shaky and filled with tears. "Please, I'm applying for this scholarship. It's really super competitive, any little thing can set you apart, please don't do this."
"Oh, jesus," Kenny groaned, rubbing at his forehead. "Look, girl, I have a job to do. The reason we have to write you students up is so that there's a record of a pattern of behavior. Like, if you were dangerous, or something, we could look at the records and say, yeah, her being late all the time fits with this such and such type. I gotta do my job."
"But, I'm not dangerous!" Rebecca's lips parted at the absurd rationalization.
"Okay, I mean..." Kenny leaned back in his chair, looking at her directly for what felt like the first time. Beneath his dark, bushy eyebrows were blue eyes, but so dark they looked grey in the dim light of the one overhead lamp. "We could do this another way."
"Really?" She blinked, her sniffling slowing down. She wiped at her face, embarrassed. "What is it? I'll do anything."
"I could check you over. Just so I can definitively say that you're not up to something when you come in late."
"Check me over? Like... at the airport?"
"Exactly like that."
Rebecca sniffed a final time, her face a little wet but mostly clear. She'd gone to Europe with her family a couple of years ago, and had to get a quick pat down by security before being allowed through the gate. It had lasted all of twenty seconds. Quick and painless. "Okay." She smiled, this time filled with gratitude. "Thank you so much."
"Yeah, yeah." Kenny seemed annoyed at having to heft himself out of the seat again.
Rebecca watched him round the table. In the confines of the small office, he loomed like an average sized bear. His hands and feet, judging by the size of his dark boots, seemed larger than before and were the focal point of her gaze. They just seemed massive all of a sudden. "Um," She stepped back a little, the lower part of her spine bumping against the doorknob. "Should I...?"
He ignored her, simply grabbing the underside of her arms and lifting them until she understood to keep them spread like that. Then, he started brushing them over the sleeves of her uniform sweater, and she stood stock still with his warm breath painting her forehead, pudgy fingers poking at her arms.
"Ah," Rebecca let out a nervous giggle, body jerking when the security guard explored her armpits. "S-sorry."
"Just keep it steady." He ordered.
His hands slowed down as he traversed the side of her curves, every so often squeezing during the descent. She blushed when her hips were practically massaged, arms still spread out and trembling, fighting to stay still as his body lowered to the floor, the top of his head level with her chest.
"It's winter." Kenny's voice sounded suspicious. "Why aren't you wearing tights, or something?"
"Uh," Rebecca's brain short circuited the moment the security guard's hands wrapped around one of her calves, the contact of skin on skin sending a bolt of heat straight to her core.
"And what the hell is this?"
"What? Nothing!" Rebecca yelped, arms lowering but her reaction time too slow to prevent Kenny's thumb from dragging up the length of her inner thigh and catching a droplet of water which had rolled down from beneath her skirt.
"Hmmm..." The security guard rose again, and Rebecca's eyes widened to an almost comical degree when he stuck his thumb inside his mouth, tasting it. His brow unfurrowed. "Weird."
Rebecca gaped. Had he thought that it was...? She didn't know what to think about that. "Um, can we... are we...?"
 
                             
                         
                         
                         
                         
                         
                                 
                                 
                                 
                                