Part 6, story narrated by Gwen

Maybe you went to a high school where they don’t punish girls by making them strip naked.  If so, then that’s lucky for you, because let me tell you, it’s no fun at all.  Before it happened to me, I thought it was kind of a neat idea, even sexy in a way.  For me, watching another girl beg, cry, fight, or do anything to keep her clothes on was, well, exciting.  It’s her inner struggle, made visible on her face — and her pussy — that makes it fun for me as a spectator.  But then after I was stripped naked yesterday in gym class, all the fun went out of it for me.  It’s not just that I was forced to strip naked, and then watch as my clothes went up in flames.  It’s the relentless teasing that I got the whole rest of the day that really upset me.

I say “teasing”, but most of it wasn’t overt like “ha ha ha, you’re naked and I’m not” or something like that.  Some of the boys asked if I was happy to see them, and I hated myself for blushing and covering my tits — hey, it was cold in those hallways.  What’s a girl to do?  But that’s not the sort of good-natured kidding that upset me the most.  The worst part was the condescending crap heaped on me by the teachers.  I mean, why did all my teachers feel the need to point out the naked girl in my classes?  Mr. Phillips, for example, waited until everyone was seated, and then he called me up to the front of the room, and made me stand there in front of everyone.  He put me on display while he lectured the class that they should not treat me any differently from any other girl, and they should try to avoid looking at my vagina or breasts, just as they avoid looking up a girl’s dress or down her blouse.  Why didn’t he call Sally to the front of the room because her top was so loose her huge tits kept “accidentally” flopping out of it?  Or why didn’t he call Lacey to the front of the room for wearing her dad’s wifebeater t-shirt as a dress that was not only really short, but kept (once again) “accidentally” sliding up her butt.  I mean, Lacey had to know she was flashing, right?  But no.  Mr. Phillips had to put me on display for everyone to stare at, just because I was naked.  The longer I stood there, the more everyone looked directly at my vagina, I must say.  He must have said that word twenty times, and every time he said it, I felt it getting a little juicier.  Then it got much worse.  He turned to face me, and lectured me on the importance of not exciting the boys.  He told me to be very careful to keep my legs together at all times, and to try not to draw attention to my nudity.  Can you believe it?  Try not to draw attention to it!?  He spent 20 minutes on that topic himself!

Then, in Miss Angel’s class it was even worse, if you can believe that.  She didn’t make me stand in front of the room, but she made me stand up.  She said I should remain standing for the whole class, not as a punishment, but for hygiene reasons.  You see, she explained, when a girl is forced to be naked in public, she is often excited by this, and it’s not her fault, so we should all be understanding.  “At this very moment,” she went on, “Gwen is almost certainly experiencing heightened sexual excitement, which inevitably causes vaginal secretions.  Other people will need to sit at her seat, and it wouldn’t be fair to them to let Gwen’s juices flow all over it, now, would it?”  She didn’t come right out and say it, but in effect, she was asking the whole class to look at me closely for signs of sexual excitement.  Have you ever tried to “unharden” your nipples?  They were rock hard.  I was afraid to look at them, but they were probably huge.  I could feel my inner lips swelling, and trying to burst out of their confined space, but I managed to hold them in through sheer willpower.  In the most condescending part of her speech, she addressed me directly.  “Gwen,” she said, “if you feel yourself getting, well, excited, then feel free to spread your legs apart enough to allow air flow between your legs.  I understand the discomfort you must be feeling, and I want you to know it’s perfectly natural to become a little moist now and then.”  I remember wanting to choke the bitch, but what I actually did was smile and nod.  I think I even thanked her!  I hated myself for that.

The next day

I came downstairs wearing a top and matching panties, when for some reason my mom went ballistic.  I suppose I should have realized my mom was really mad at me for allowing my gym teacher to burn my clothes.  “What do you think?” she asked, “that we’re made of money?”

I said no, I didn’t think that, but her mind was made up.  She sent me back to my room, and told me to strip down to one item of clothing for fear I would lose it — better to lose one item a day than several, she said.  Well, the only things I had were tops, pants, skirts, and two micro-minidresses that were so short, well, let’s just say they didn’t leave a lot to the imagination.

“Can’t I at least wear a thong under it,” I begged, but my mom was adamant.

“You’ll just lose it,” she predicted.

“I might as well go to school naked,” I said.

“Suit yourself,” mom said.  She knew I wouldn’t do that, especially after my ordeal the day before.  I wished I could just wear a pair of panties, so my pussy would be covered, but unfortunately, the dress code didn’t allow girls to go topless.  So it would have to be one of my two micro-minidresses.  But which one?  One of them was really short, but it was also the cuter one — a baby-doll style with with a slit up the front, all the way to my breasts, which is a bit of a problem, because it would leave my front exposed.  It came with matching panties, but with mom’s rotten mood right now, I would have to leave them home.  The other one was even shorter, but it was made to be worn without panties.  You see, it was open on the sides all the way to the waist, so there’s no way to wear underwear that doesn’t show — even a high-waistband thong.  I guess I really should have worn it, because it was really cute, and made to be worn as a single piece.  But I was still really mad at my mother for putting me in this position of having to go commando.  Sure, I’ve gone commando before, but on my terms.  Being forced by my own mom to do it is a whole ‘nuther thing.  So, I guess to spite her, I went with the baby-doll dress.  My butt would be naked, but at least my top would be covered.  I laughed to my self at our high school’s stupid dress code.

When I got on the bus, I thought maybe spiting my mom this way wasn’t such a good idea.  I felt so exposed.  I had never gone commando in anything this short before, and the bus was so crowded I didn’t get a seat.  But the other passengers didn’t seem to pay me any notice, so by the time I got to school, I was feeling much more confident.  I got some nice compliments on my dress from my girlfriends, and since we like to hug and kiss when we greet each other, I think some of them were able to figure out that I wasn’t wearing panties, but they didn’t say anything.  I wasn’t the only girl showing the bottoms of my butt cheeks, even if maybe I was the only one going commando in such a daring dress!  I don’t know why I didn’t think of this when I was home, but I never tried sitting in my baby-doll dress until I got to my first period class.  As it happens, the dress doesn’t fully cover my butt, even when I’m sitting.  I mean it doesn’t even reach the chair, so the kids sitting behind me could see my butt crack pressed against the seat and know I wasn’t wearing panties.  Oh well.  No one said anything about that.  The other thing about this dress that was a bit of a problem for me is the slit in the front.  When I’m sitting, it has this way of opening up, so the teacher could see I was bottomless, as could the kids to my immediate left and right.  When I first noticed this happening, I felt my face redden, and I closed it up right away, but after the second or third time I noticed it, I just left it alone.  I kept my legs together, and since I was fully shaven, even in high school, there really wasn’t anything to see, and no one said anything, which means I got away with it.

Well, like I said, my mom was really mad at me, and the last thing she wanted to do was go out, again, and buy a gym uniform.  So it was another naked day in gym class.  For some reason, this didn’t bother me quite so much — maybe because I had already attended gym in the nude, and knew what to expect, or maybe because my dress was so skimpy, I felt almost naked anyway.  I hung up my little dress in the locker, and lined up on the green line with the rest of the girls.  Quite a few of the girls had shortened their gym uniforms to the length of half-shirts, so I didn’t feel so out of place in the nude.  Except for the teacher, it was just us girls, anyway.  Today, he didn’t even bother to ask us if we wanted to see one of the girls stripped naked and her clothes burnt. He knew we did.  As the previous day’s victim, I had the honor of inspecting the first two girls, and spanking one of them.. As luck would have it, the were both among the dozen or so girls who had slapped me silly the day before, so I was in a position to return the favor.

And at that very moment, I was struck by an inspiration!  I gave each one the opportunity to save herself by giving me her gym uniform.  Unfortunately, neither one took me up on it right away, so I picked the girl with the longer uniform, and ordered her to remove it so that I could properly spank her.  She did, reluctantly, and resumed her position, now completely naked.  I made her spread her legs wide, and felt her up mercilessly.  I played her like a piano, raising goose bumps on her beautiful tan skin.  When I sensed she was about to cum, I whispered in her ear that I would let her go if she gave me her uniform.  Seeing she had no choice, she agreed.  I put on her uniform, and let her go.  Then I slapped the other girl, and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the proceedings.

In the end, our class made another good choice.  Her name was Marina, a beautiful Russian girl with short dark hair that framed her face in a really cute way.  She had perfect pale skin, and an adorable round butt that was perfectly shaped.  Her tits were small to medium sized, very firm, with small nipples.  Although she had nice hips, she was very thin, so even standing up straight with her legs together, her asshole and pussy were visible from behind, which I found very attractive.  Once she was picked, the teacher made her do a little model walk for us, so we could judge whether her gym uniform was too long, and I really thought it was.  It covered her asshole, which was the main criterion, so I voted that she should be stripped naked, and her clothes burned.  Most of my classmates agreed.  Of course, she begged us not to burn her clothes, and, like so many of the other girls, she cried when we did.  I hoped it would teach her a good lesson.

* * *

Next, I don’t know if there will be another part, but if there is, then it should probably be about Gwen’s high school dress code, which had three basic rules:  (1) No visible breasts (side-boob OK), (2) Cover your butt crack (at least partially), and (3) No visible pubic hair.  Girls must obey these rules unless they receive special permission from a teacher.  Punishment for disobeying the dress code is an “F” in a subject called “conduct”.  Too many F’s in conduct will result in failing the whole semester, and could result in being held back a grade.  Also, teachers are not permitted to punish girls by stripping them.  Unfortunately, in practice this doesn’t do much to protect the girls, because a teacher may still threaten to give a girl an F in conduct unless she “voluntarily” removes, say, her panties.