Black Screen Pt. 03

Anne had let the opportunity slip by because she was fucking fantasising about stripping in the classroom. What was wrong with her!?

She picked her phone back up, frustrated.

Master:Watch your tone. It is very doable, you have scissors don't you? Just over 3 minutes left slave.

Scissors? What did he mean by-

The realisation hit her.

Her eyes widened with recognition as she finally understood what was expected of her.

Anne didn't know whether to be dismayed or impressed.

On some level she respected his inventiveness, but knowing what she actually had to do was terrifying.

He wanted her to cut each side of her thong and pull it out without removing her jeans.

Fuck!

Anne had to admit it was the best way to remove them in the middle of a lesson.

BUT THAT DIDN'T MAKE IT SUBTLE!

Oh god, how am I going to do this!?

Disobeying was now no longer an option. The act wasn't as extreme as taking off her jeans so she couldn't justify letting him post the videos or even just punish her instead of simply doing it.

It would be horrible but she had no choice.

Do I even have scissors?

Anne quickly unzipped her pencil case.

She had no scissors.

Shit! What am I going to do!?

Quickly looking on either side to the two desks adjacent to her, she noticed a pair of scissors sticking out of Greg's pencil case.

She was going to have to borrow them.

There were probably less than 3 minutes left.

With little time remaining she knew she couldn't find a stealthy way to swipe them, Anne was going to have to ask him.

Plucking up a small bit of courage, she leant over and tapped him on the shoulder.

Greg pulled himself away from the textbook and gave her a dirty look in return for the distraction.

"Yes?" He asked, irritated.

"Err hi! Can I borrow your... erm... can I borrow your scissors?" Anne tried to keep her voice quiet so no one could overhear her. "I mean please! If that's okay."

"Why do you need scissors?" Greg frowned.

Anne struggled to find an excuse.

Greg was a bit of a loner. He had one or two friends in the school but they mostly kept to themselves and didn't socialise too much with other circles.

He was a very average guy, all things considered.

He was of an average height, an average weight, and had an average looking face.

Even his grades were average!

The boy was simply... normal. There was nothing outstanding about him in any way except for his ability to get irritated.

Anne realised it was a horrible thing to think about someone but she couldn't find any reason to disagree with her assessment.

In the end she fumbled out an answer.

"I just need them really quick to cut something. I'll give them straight back I promise."

The average guy gave her a suspicious look, analysing her to see if he could figure out if something fishy was going on.

Before Anne started to sweat, he shrugged and decided he didn't care.

"Here."

Greg handed her the scissors and went back to his reading, no longer interested.

Thank god for that!

Sitting back up straight she quickly scanned the room to see if anyone was looking at her. She was seated at the back of the class so she only needed to look in 3 directions to avoid getting caught.

Which were 3 more directions than she would have liked.

All her classmates were still preoccupied; no one had taken an interest in why she was asking for scissors. If they had actually overheard them, that is.

Anne turned to look at her teacher.

Miss Owens was staring right back at her.

Shit!

She hastily smiled at her teacher, then put her head down into her text book and feigned going back to work.

Shit! Shit! She's going to be watching me!

With all the bodies between them the teacher wouldn't be able to see her lower half, but that didn't mean Anne wouldn't catch her attention by acting strangely with her movements.

And what was stopping Miss Owens from just coming over to check on her?

She didn't have time to be worrying about that. No one to her left or right was looking at her, which would be enough to get this done secretly.

Hopefully.

Anne wanted to take another quick glance to either side but with Miss Owens looking she couldn't afford to act suspicious.

Keeping her eyes downcast on her book, she slowly pried the fingers of her left hand into the waist of her jeans.

She moved gently, careful not to make jagged movements that would disturb people's peripheral vision.

Please, no one look at me!

Anne hooked her index finger around the waistband of her thong and pulled the left side out of her jeans.

Unable to resist, she darted her eyes around the room.

No one was looking; Miss Owens seemed to be struggling to mark something in front of her and was no longer paying attention.

Do it now! Quickly, quickly, quickly!

Maintaining eye contact with the class while forcing her movements to be swift and smooth, Anne brought her right hand down with the scissors and cut through the waistband of her thong with a clean stroke.

SNIP.

1 second later both her hands were back on the desk as if they had never left.

One guy at the front of the class turned back to have a look around but almost instantaneously faced forward again, deciding there was nothing interesting behind him after a quick glance.

If only he knew.

Anne let herself breathe again, but she knew the task wasn't over.

One side down, one to go.

Her confidence was rapidly building, she'd just done it on one side now all she needed was to repeat it just as smoothly.

She could do this!

Switching the scissors over into her other fist, Anne squeezed her right hand into the side of her jeans.

Yet again, she got hold of the waistband of her thong and tugged it up and out into the open.

Anne held the side of her underwear and got ready to cut.

Greg turned to face her.

Her heart stopped.

A moment passed with the two students staring straight at each other; Anne gaping dumbly and holding the waistband of her thong, Greg looking between her hand and her face with raised eyebrows.

She'd been caught.

Fuck!

Anne needed to speak before he did, so she could keep her voice low and explain before he asked her what she was doing.

But what could she say?

Shit, why couldn't he just keep his head in his books!

"Just scratching my hip." She silently mouthed to him with a smile.

Greg frowned, and looked suspiciously down at her hand scratching a fake itch under her thong and then back to her nervous grin. It was an unconvincing lie; neither of them expected him to believe it.

Luckily he didn't need to. Whatever she was doing wasn't his problem.

He shook his head, bemused and vexed that he'd wound up stuck sitting next to this crazy girl.

Anne breathed a sigh of relief when he turned away, deciding to ignore whatever she was doing.

Thank god it was Greg sitting next to me and not any other guy in the room!

Almost automatically, she cast an eye over at Brad.

Especially you.

She stopped itching her leg, deciding that act was over. Without any more hesitation she grabbed the waistband, pulled it out, looked around the room, and went in for the quick cut.

SNIP.

Done.

Anne put the scissors back on the desk and slumped back in her chair.

She had done it.

Looking up at the ceiling she breathed a sigh of relief.

Now all she needed to do was pull them out.

On a surface level this seemed like the least subtle of the 3 stages, but when Anne thought it through at the beginning of the task she came to the opposite conclusion.

The part that made the action clunky was the scissors; it was hard to justify your actions when you appeared to be cutting your clothes.

All she needed to do was put her hands behind her back, grab the thong, lift up her ass slightly and WHOOSH, pull it out in one quick motion. The simple action of putting her hands behind her was not out of the ordinary, and since there was no one sitting to her back, there was no one to see her pull anything out either.

The only issue right now was time, which she was running out of.

Not wanting to waste any more of it, Anne got to work, placing her right hand behind her back and reaching into her jeans.

She felt the back of her thong and grabbed it.

Or was that technically the front of her thong?

No time for that! Just pull it out!

Taking a deep breath, Anne pulled the cut up thong out of her jeans in one quick motion.

Too quick a motion, she realised afterwards. She hadn't expected the effect the friction was going to her on her at all.

The string of the thong was still firmly pressed against her clit and it had made the area extremely sensitive after a day of rubbing against it.

As she pulled out the thong, all the material that remained of it to the front of her jeans zipped past her pussy like it was a credit card reader, rubbing hard against her sore clit.

Anne could barely contain her squeal.

Mother of-

She bit her lip to stop any noise from escaping her, nearly drawing blood. The rapid motion was a sharp jolt of pain combined with an unexpected push on her arousal. Her hips jerked in her seat and then struggled to stop squirming.

I really hope no one saw that.

Recovering quickly, she balled up the destroyed underwear and put it into her pocket.

NOW she was done.

Had anyone heard her?

Yet again she saw a guy in the front row glance back but he clearly hadn't watched her shameful performance. It seemed as if she had gotten away with it.

Anne glanced over at Greg as he tried his best to pretend she wasn't there.

Well, she hadalmost entirely gotten away with it.

She blushed, wondering what he had assumed she was doing, or what he had seen out the corner of his eye. Maybe he witnessed the whole thing and just played it cool.

Maybe he'll tell everyone I cut my panties off during lesson...

Her phone buzzed.

In Anne's chest her heart lurched.

Was she meant to tell him when she was done? Anne had rushed near the end of the task to make her deadline; if her failure to text had consequences then it would have all been for nothing.

Anne opened the chat, dreading his words.

Master:You were too slow. As a forfeit I want you to put your thong in someone's backpack. Do you have any preferences? Answer fast.

Oh fuck.

She gripped the phone tighter, pushing the blood from her fingers. Clearly she had been right to dread his message.

Put her thong in someone's bag!? Why couldn't she have just sent to damn message sooner!?

Shit! Fucking shit!

The task wasn't half as bad as the fact she could have avoided it. She was stupid, it was a senseless mistake to forget like that and now it had cost her.

If she kept making these mistakes with this guy she was going to get into serious trouble.

Anne sighed. She had to reply quickly, there was no time to dwell on possibilities and regrets, she had to take every task seriously or it could all be for nothing.

She stopped mid-thought.

It would all be for nothing? I haven't even been his slave for 24 hours yet!

That fact scared her. She had done so many absurd and outlandish things in the last day that it felt like a year's worth. But less than a day!?

What would she have done in 2 days? Or 2 weeks?

A chill ran through her spine.

And in a few minutes she would add "put soiled panties in classmate's bag" to her list of shame.

On her seat she squirmed against the rough material of her jeans.

She had to pick someone and fast. Who in the room should she give her panties to...

In her pocket she continued to squeeze the balled material. The thong was still damp from all the excitement in the girl's toilets. Whoever received them was going to her a bag smelling of her pussy.

Oh god!

Anne shut down the humiliating thoughts. There was no time for that. She couldn't think about who she wanted to give them to and start thinking about who would be the easiest.

She looked over at Greg, who was still ignoring her.

No. He'll know it was me.

Looking to her left side she saw that Stephanie had her own back clamped between her legs as she worked.

Well that's not possible.

That meant she would have to stand up to find her mark, which would make this harder.

Anne surveyed the room, checking to see who the easiest target would be.

The conclusion horrified her.

Backpacks would be tricky because she'd have to slyly undo the zip, which meant that the easiest option would be someone with a handbag with no opening mechanism.

Upon inspection, there was one person in the room with her handbag open and out in the open, effortlessly accessible to anyone looking to drop something in.

Anne exhaled, defeated.

She typed up her message for her blackmailer knowing she had no other choice.

I'll put them in Liza's bag.

As soon as she hit send she started blushing. It was so humiliating, being forced to pick her own target like that.

And Liza! Why did it have to be Liza!

Her phone buzzed with the quick reply.

Good choice. I never said you'd get to choose though, I simply asked for your preference.

Anne scowled. She had suspected this kind of trick but she had hoped it would be avoidable if she picked someone interesting enough.

Bastard.

The message continued.

You have until 12:40 to get that thong into Miss Owens' handbag. If you fail you'll have to gag yourself with the thong and keep it there from the second you leave this room until you make it home.

I hope you weren't planning on asking someone for a lift because I'm betting you'll fail.

What!?

That was too much! Why does he always insist on pushing her like this.

Her teacher!?

Miss Owens was a sharp woman, slipping something past her eyes was not going to be a simple thing.

And if she got caught...

Anne had tensed up so much she almost chewed through her cheek without realising it.

So naming Liza had been for nothing? He had just wanted her to go through the humiliation of having to pick someone, he never cared who it was; Miss Owens was always going to be the plan.

He was probably going to give her this task whether she made it in time with the thong or not.

Asshole.

And going home gagged... Anne was planning on asking Beth for a lift home, how could she do that if she was gagged? How could she get a bus ticket? How could she do anything!?

Anne wanted to throw her phone across the phone and shatter it against the wall.

If she didn't do this task she'd be trapped, it was too long a journey to walk home.

There was no other option; her thong had to go in her teacher's handbag.

Anne looked over to Miss Owens sitting in front of the whole classroom. It was going to be impossible to get up there without everyone watching what she was doing.

She stared over the teacher's workspace but she couldn't see her bag anywhere. That was going to make things tricky.

Anne huffed.

It must be behind her desk.

____

Olivia fidgeted in her chair.

The teacher was struggling earnestly to distract her mind from the nakedness of her lower half by marking some exam papers that she had been avoiding.

It didn't work, nothing she did could take her mind off her situation.

Miss Owens' bare ass writhed in her seat, barely restrained enough not to catch her students' notice.

I can't believe I'm actually doing this! This is insane!

Olivia wasn't an exhibitionist by any stretch of the imagination. She could count the number of men who had seen her naked on her hands and that was barely more than the number she had had sex with in her lifetime.

She didn't take off her clothes easily, nor did she enjoy wearing revealing outfits or even forfeiting her bra on hot summer days. If Olivia wanted to go to a club or a bar then sure, she might wear a short skirt and show off the girls but that was a specific occasion where she liked feeling sexual, it's not like she enjoyed exposing her body.

So why could she feel her excitement building?

Olivia wriggled her toes and forced her thighs to stop subconsciously rubbing together for the tenth time this lesson. Every time her mind drifted her body would betray her, and her legs would be moving against each other almost instantly.

She knew she was probably wet by now.

Damn him!

Olivia was humiliated by her arousal. It wasn't her fault! This was an obtusely sexual situation, and with all the fear pumping through her, her body was bound to mistake it for excitement...

Right?

She squirmed again.

What made it even worse was the WAY she was naked. Being topless in front of people was embarrassing, but at least wearing nothing up top felt somewhat natural. Beingbottomless however, now that did not feel natural at all. Who woke up in the morning and put on their bra and top before their panties?

Olivia let her knees slide open a few inches, to release the tension on her pussy, then remembering he was watching on the webcam below slammed them back together.

She whined.

Why is he torturing me like this?!

While being bottomless was abnormal and humiliating, it's not like being topless would be a better option. At least as she was now, her naked skin was hidden from the class.

Olivia looked up to see Annabel Adams walking towards her.

Shit!

The teacher quickly pulled her chair as tight against the desk as it would go, hoping to minimise the chances of being caught.

What did she want!?

"Annabel." She said coolly, trying to mask her panic. "Is there something you need?"

"No Miss." Her student replied, shyly. "Well no... I mean yes I do. I was just wondering if you could help me with question 3?"

"Then you can wait until everyone is done and I go through all the questions as a class."

The girl shifted on her feet, awkwardly. It was sometimes hard for Olivia to believe that this girl had got full marks in her exams last year. She was bright but not exceptional; she struggled often when other students thrived.

Many of her other teachers had become suspicious of her success, especially in Maths which Mr Daniels swore she was less than average at, but Olivia gave her the benefit of the doubt.

The results she got were the results she got and that was all there was to it. Olivia couldn't see how the girl could have cheated and the teacher would believe she didn't until the facts suggested otherwise.

Sometimes people could work hard and exceed the expectations people had for them, why was that a bad thing?

In front of her the student mumbled on.

"It will just be a quick question. It won't take more than a few seconds I promise!"

Olivia sighed. It was too hard to justify sending the girl away.

"Alright, give it here."

Anne moved to walk around the desk.

"What are you doing!?" Olivia panicked.

The student froze, shocked by her sudden yelling. Around the class people were looking up at the two of them to see what the commotion was about.

Shit, she's bringing so much attention to me!

"I-I was just going to show you the question." Anne stuttered.

"You can show me perfectly fine from over there."

Her response was firm but inside she was shaking.

Don't you dare try to come around this desk while I'm naked! Please no!

"But I was just thinking it would be easier for you to help me if-"

Olivia saw her attempting another step.

"No!"

Anne stopped again. Miss Owens could see the student was looking distraught.

And now everyone else in the room was staring at them.

Why is she doing this?! Now everyone in the room will be wondering why I don't want you behind my desk!