2. The Punishment Begins
#2 of Punishment to Fit the Criminal
Vice-principal Thoreau hung the painting back over his wall safe, then sat back at his desk and picked up the phone. After a moment, he said, "Dave? Yes it is. Listen, Dave, this trio's going to be special. No, no I can't say which room we need. You'll see what I mean when you read the slip. On your way here, I want you to pick up the principal's secretary and bring her with. Yeah, you got it."
He hung up the phone and turned back to the (apparently endless) pile of paperwork on his desk. Rachel began to wonder why he couldn't just get on it. Was it really this tedious to set up a punishment, or was he just stretching things out to make them uncomfortable.
If that is his goal, she reflected, it's working. She fidgeted on the couch, desperately wanting to say something to Sara and Hannah. She glanced at Mr. Thoreau. Even if I could figure out what to say, he might make things worse just for interrupting him. What's going to happen, anyway?
The door opened, and the vice-principal stood up. "No, no, don't come in yet. Let's chat in the hall for a moment."
The door closed behind Mr. Thoreau, and the three girls looked at each other, each straining to hear what the adults were saying, but to no avail. They could barely hear whispering, but not enough to make anything out. Not, that is, until Dave's bearish voice laughed out. "Oh, man, I see what you mean. Right, let's get this show on the road."
The door opened, and Mr. Thoreau peaked around it just long enough to crane a finger towards the three girls. Like marionettes on strings, they rose as one and awkwardly shuffled to the door.
* * *
In the hall, they were blindfolded and spun around until none of them could tell which way was up. Then they were led on a ways, before being spun around again. By the time they reached... wherever, they'd been spun five or six times, and had no idea where they were anymore.
Removing the blindfolds didn't help much either. The room was plain white, with a door on either end. Aside from the children, Dave, and Mr. Thoreau, the room contained only three metal tables.
The vice-principal snorted and stamped a foot on the cement floor. He clearly meant it as a sign of decision, but it looked so much like a tame horse, Dave chuckled quietly and ruined the effect.
Vice-principal Thoreau glared at Dave slightly, then said, "Well, the main event will take a little while to get ready, but I think we can start this now. Strip."
Rachel blinked, and a single word escaped her mouth before she could stop herself. "What?"
Thoreau rolled his eyes. "Strip, intransitive verb. Spelled S-T-R-I-P. Meaning: To remove material, especially clothing. Synonym disrobe, antonym dress. In this case, a one-word imperative sentence: a command for the intended audience, namely you three, to remove clothing. Now."
The three glanced at each other and Sara spoke up. "In front of everybody?"
The horse chuckled. "Oh, if only you knew... Yes, in front of both of us and each other."
Once again, Rachel spoke before she could bite the words off. "But... you're guys!"
Mr. Thoreau chuckled again. "How nice of you to notice. Yes, we are." His eyes hardened and Disciplinarian Thoreau said, "This is part of your punishment, and if you don't do as I say, it will only make things worse. Strip. Now."
The Disciplinarian put so much ice into that last word, Hannah actually shivered before shyly bending over to remove her shoes. The others followed suit.
Removing her socks, it was Rachel's turn to shiver as her feet hit the cold floor. It wasn't until she pulled the hem of her shirt out that she realize the helmet was right. Terrified eyes looked up at the Disciplinarian, silently pleading with him, but his eyes remained hard and a satisfied grin sprung up on his face.
Slowly and unwillingly, Rachel pulled up her shirt, slowly revealing her bare chest. That was, to her mind, the worst of it. She had a few training bras, but almost nothing to train, so she often forgot to put them on. As she had this morning. As she pulled the shirt off, she knew that she was showing everyone in the room just that: that she had nothing but two tiny bumps where her breasts should be.
When she finally had the shirt off, Rachel was even more mortified to discover that her blush was showing straight through her fur, tinting it pink all the way to her belly button! She held an arm across her breasts as she reluctantly dropped the top to the cement floor.
The Disciplinarian's eyes held hers for a moment, then flickered down to her skirt. Rachel winced and felt around with her free hand, finally pulling down the zipper and allowing the skirt to fall. She glanced around quickly.
If she hadn't been so terrified and humilitated, Rachel might have laughed at what she saw. She, Sara, and Hannah looked like a matched set. All three stood there in only their panties, blushing furiously, and with one hand covering their breasts while the other hung limply at their side, not sure where it should be. Sara was the odd one out, covering herself with her left arm and the right hanging at her side, a mirror image of the other two.
"All of it." The Disciplinarian's voice made all three jump.
Rachel trembled and closed her eyes, knowing better than to look to him for sympathy. Slowly, agonizingly, she slid her right hand down to her waist, then slipped a thumb from each hand into the elastic of her panties. Cringing, she quickly bent over and pushed them to the ground.
Standing slowly back up, Rachel returned her right arm to cover her breasts and slipped her left hand between her thighs, covering her privates. Blushing even harder, she forced her eyes back open and looked up at the Disciplinarian. With her eyes, she pleaded with him. Surely, they said, this is enough! I've never been so embarrassed in my life; I won't be bad again! Please, let it end now!
Instead, he walked over and moved her in front of the others, then turned them so that they could all see each other. The Disciplinarian's voice was quiet but still rang like a pair of cymbals as he said, "Hands at your sides."
No, Rachel thought, not in front of them, please! But she knew it was useless, so she decided to make it fast. One moment, she was covering herself, and the next, one hand was gripping the outside of each leg.
Hannah and Sara were slower, awkwardly sliding their hands to their sides. Embarrassed but unable to restrain their curiosity, they looked each other over. Hannah was as flat as Rachel, but Sara had two small mounds already. And between their legs, a vertical slit, parted ever so slightly and showing a little of what lay between.
After a moment, Rachel realized that both of the other two were looking between her legs. Seconds later, she realized why, and her blush deepened even further. To her horror, just below her waist, she felt a tingling sensation, followed by movement and a touch of dampness.
NO! she thought, Not that! Anything but that! I don't even know what it is, for crying out loud! Why now_?_
It had only happened twice before, and the second time, she'd gotten a mirror to see what was happening. Her private parts had been swollen, especially the button at the top, and they'd... sort of blushed, shining straight through the thin fur that covered them.
And it's happening again, and they can both SEE it, and I can't even cover it up, because he just told us to put our hands at our sides! She very nearly cried with embarassment as the Disciplinarian's hooves clomped around to stand by her friends and stare at her with them.
"Well," he said, "that should make things interesting. Very interesting indeed."
* * *
After a moment, Dave had walked over to get a look, too. And with all four of them staring, Rachel had been absolutely mortified to feel it, whatever it was, get even stronger. The eyes were latched onto her so hard, she felt like she had a road flare between her thighs. The staring had seemed to last an eternity before the Disciplinarian nodded. "Enough of that. Each of you pick a table and lay on it, face up."
Rachel shivered slightly at the thought of the cold metal, but allowed as how it was better than standing here on display. Cautiously, she lay down on a table, grateful for the insulation of her fur even as the table chilled her back.
"Everybody lay still," the Disciplinarian commanded. He walked over and stood above Rachel, staring at her for a moment more.
Click, click, click, click. He was done almost before she realized he'd started. Rachel strained at the metal bands holding her arms and legs in position as another eight clicks sounded, the two adults strapping her friends in.
"What--?" Rachel started to ask.
"Just getting you ready for the next part of your punishment."