Michelle was feeling just a little disgruntled. She was running late and the fact that it was her own fault was of no help whatsoever. She had been at cheer-leading practice with the rest of the team. The fact that she was the oldest member, nearly nineteen, and soon to leave bot school and the squad were no acceptable reasons for missing practice, otherwise she just might have skipped it. She did have a date, after all.
It hadn't helped when she'd rushed back to the change room after the practice only to find that her bag wasn't there. She'd taken it to the practice with her as she'd needed a few things that were in it. It was still at the practice as Michelle had forgotten it and none the other team members had spotted it lying there. She'd had to go back to the ground, try to remember just where she'd put that stupid bag, get it, and return to the change room. By which time all the other girls had used all the hot water.
A fast cold shower had not improved her mood. Neither had a broken shoelace. By the time she was dressed she was well and truly the last person to leave, making it her responsibility to check out the change room to make sure everything was reasonably tidy, which meant more delay.
Finally free to leave Michelle came charging out of the change room and ran down the hall, only to find herself lying flat on her back as she charged right into a brick wall that hadn't been there when she came down the hallway earlier.
"Ah, Michelle," murmured the brick wall. "You seem to be in a bit of a hurry."
A slightly shaken Michelle found herself looking up at a very solid Mr Ogilvie, the PE teacher. Standing with him, looking amused, was Mr Vincent, the vice-principal.
"You know, Tom," Mr Ogilvie said as he helped Michelle to stand, "Michelle is just the person to give us a hand in that research we were discussing."
"I think you're right," agreed Mr Vincent, smiling. "Why don't you step into this classroom for a few while we ask you a few questions? It'll only take a few minutes."
"Um, I really don't have time right now," Michelle protested, finding herself being ushered into the classroom adjacent to them. "I have to see someone."
"Alternatively," Mr Vincent pointed out, "I could always give you a detention for running in the halls. That's not allowed, you know."
"But I can always make time for my teachers if they need something," Michelle said quickly.
"I thought you might," came the rather dry comment.
"Um, what do you want to know?"
"The education department want us to do a survey and tell them how many of our students are sexually active," Mr Vincent told her.
"I am so not discussing that subject with you, teacher or detention notwithstanding," came the prompt retort.
"We didn't expect you to," said Mr Ogilvie with a laugh. "God, imagine how we'd feel questioning all the girls about that sort of thing. Questioning the boys would also be useless as they'd lie. There are other ways we can resolve the issue. Show Tom your hands. Ah, that's Mr Vincent to you."
Michelle found herself standing by the side of a desk with Mr Vincent standing on the other side. Puzzled, not sure where this was leading, Michelle held out her hands. Mr Vincent's hands closed over hers and drew her towards him, forcing her to lean forward over the desk.
"Wh-what are you doing?" stammered a surprised Michelle, only to find herself a lot more surprised at Mr Ogilvie's action.
Reaching down he lifted the back of her dress, tucking it into her belt. If that wasn't bad enough he then took hold of her panties and slipped them down. Michelle's mouth fell open in shock, while her eyes opened very wide.
"What are you doing?" she asked again in a voice that could best be described as a horrified screech.
"We told you," Mr Ogilvie told her. "We have to do a survey on our students. This is the simplest way for us to check"
"All you had to do was ask," gasped Michelle. "You stop that," she added as a hand started to stroke her mound.
