|I had a whole day to think what the teacher meant by “charm”. He said we would have a chance to show our charm — or was it “charms” — and these would earn us points. The old TV commercial kept going through my head: “always after me lucky charms!”
As I dressed this morning, the idea of charm, and being charming, was going through my head, and how I’ve always thought the working person was a charming thing — people who work with their hands, and build things. Very charming. So I decided on a whim to wear my baggy white painters-pants overall thingy. The weather was still warm, and they don’t seem to believe in air conditioning in this country, so I decided not to wear a top. There wasn’t any need to, after all, since the overalls have an ample bib. I put it on, and as I was admiring myself in the mirror, I notice my panties showed through the gap where the pants snap together. I always think it looks uncouth when I see another girl’s panties, so I took ’em off, and put on the overalls without anything underneath. I was very charming!
So I got to school, and tried my best to mingle with my classmates, but it was still hard for me, because I’m still new here. But my girlfriends really loved the painters-pants overall thing. They said flashing the “side boob” was very daring, although I never saw it that way. Our teacher called the class to order, and we sat down.
Sam (a pretty girl, by the way, with hazel eyes and long blond hair) asked the question I was wondering, too: “What did you mean yesterday by using our charm to earn points to get out of being stripped?”
“All will be explained in due course, little girl.” She blushed, and I think I saw her nipples harden beneath her thin, soft top. She adjusted her tiny little flirt skirt, which she wore so low on her hips I could see the top of her butt crack. I smiled when I realized she had faced the same “pantie” problem as me this morning, and solved it the same way. Then I turned my attention back to the teacher. He paced back and forth, and then he stopped, and seemed to be thinking very deeply. I cleared my throat.
“Yes, Ashley?” he said.
“It’s never just nothing,”
“No really. Nothing.”
I stood up. The class was silent. This was not good. My mouth was dry.
“You’re naked under those overalls, aren’t you.” He said it more like a statement than a question, and I found it pretty annoying, to tell you the truth.
“Aren’t we all naked under our clothes?” I got a few laughs.
But our teacher wasn’t amused. “Indeed.” He paused, and looked me up and down in a pretty creepy way. “Raise both of your arms high in the air, and do a little spin,” he ordered. I wasn’t happy about it, but I did as I was told. “No tan lines. Very charming.” And then he winked at me.
I was creeped out. My neck felt hot, and I felt my nipples harden. I felt the eyes of my classmates probing my side-boobs, and for that matter my side-cheeks, where the pants fasten.
“You’re lucky I didn’t spank you.” I realized my mouth was agape when I tried in vain to form a response. You can’t spank students, I almost said. But I wasn’t in America any more. Maybe they can spank students here. “Sit down, Ashley.”
I sat down, feeling used.
And now for the Pretty Girl of the Day. This cutie illustrates a style featured in today’s story: