The yearbook slid out of her numb fingers and dropped to the floor as the full realization of what had happened sunk into her. During the course of her torment, she had been sustained by one goaclass="underline" to keep what was happening secret - to maintain her position at Greenwood. Now…
There must be a way. Most of the yearbooks hadn’t been given out yet. If she acted quickly, she could stop the mailout and maybe even get most if not all of the books recalled.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE!
(the PA system)
She didn’t even hear it.
Moving as fast as she could, she raced through the combination on her locker and jerked it open, determined to stow the rucksack and get to the principal’s office as soon as possible. As she did so, however, a small stack of material - glossy magazines - slid out onto the hallway floor. Alarmed, Stacy reached down and picked one up. It was a porn magazine, entitled CUMSHOT and it had…
For the second time in as many minutes Stacy felt herself unable to breath as panic swept through her body. She was on the cover of the magazine! The full-colour photograph featured a sharp close-up of her face as she lapped hungrily at a string of cum running from her mouth to a large cock. Neil’s cock, she realized, recognizing the scene.
"What’s this?"
It was another student - Stephanie Bowers; Stacy had stolen her boyfriend in grade ten. The girl bent over to pick up a magazine: YOUNG THINGS.
"Give me that," Stacy yelled, inadvertently attracting the attention of a number of other nearby students. She grabbed the magazine out of the other girl’s hand and tossed it into her locker. Then she dropped to her knees and gathered up the remaining publications - TEENAGE SLUTS, CUMHUNGRY - and likewise put them away.
WOULD STACY RICHARDS PLEASE REPORT
TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE!
(the PA system)
She didn’t even notice it.
Stacy slammed the locker shut and locked it. A small crowd of students had gathered around to see what the fuss was, but the magazines were safely locked away.
"Fuck off," she cried at them, tears running down her face. They watched silently as she ran off in the direction of the main office. She had to get those yearbooks recalled!
Stephanie watched her go, puzzled. Usually Stacy was so cool; so superior. What had happened to her? She gazed speculatively at Stacy’s locker. It looked like she’d never…
Wait a moment.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper with three numbers on it. She had found it stuffed into her locker that morning. The numbers looked like combination numbers. Could it be? As she moved forward to try it out, she noticed two or three of the other students in the crowd were also pulling out small pieces of paper and looking at them. With mounting excitement, Stephanie began to enter the numbers…
Stacy barged through the door and charged into the school head office. No one was there. Frantic, she ran behind the counter and into the administrative section of the school. There must be someone…
"There you are!"
It was Ms. Peabody. She walked angrily towards the panicked teenager. "We’ve been calling you to the office for ten minutes now. Are you deaf?"
"Ms. Peabody," Stacy began, ignoring the secretary’s tirade, "you’ve got to recall the yearbooks. Someone has…"
She was cut off as Ms. Peabody grabbed her by the ear and began dragging her down the hall towards the principal’s office.
"Oww…" Stacy stumbled along behind her, trying to pull away but the pain was too much. Finally, they arrived at the office. The secretary knocked on the door and then pushed it open without waiting for an acknowledgment. She used her grip on Stacy’s reddened ear to propel the reluctant teenager into the office and then entered behind her, closing the door.
Rubbing her ear, Stacy looked around. Dr. Grossman sat behind the desk, a serious look on his face.
"Stacy," he said, "sit down."
"Sir," Stacy began breathlessly, "The yearbook… you have to…"
"SIT DOWN!"
Startled, Stacy fell silent and dropped into the seat directly opposite the desk.
"This is a very serious matter," the principal explained grimly. "I’ve just had some important evidence brought to my attention regarding your academic performance this year."
"S-sir?"
Stacy flinched as she felt a hand at her shoulder. It was Ms. Peabody, standing behind the chair.
"I found this cassette tape in my mailbox," Grossman continued, pulling a small tape deck out of his desk. "Listen."
He punched the play button. Stacy listened. Almost at once, she heard the sound of her own voice:
"I heard you have a copy of next week’s English exam. Is that true?"
"Why do you want to know?"
Stacy felt an absurd sense of deja vu as she listened in panicked disbelief.
"I want a copy of that exam. I need it for this weekend."
"Stacy, you mean you want a copy of a stolen exam paper so you can cheat on next Monday’s English test."
"Yes. I need it to pass the exam… I’ll pay money. How about $100? Please?"
"Alright, I’ll sell you the stolen exam paper for $100. Will that be all, Stacy, or do you want any more exams? I can probably get whatever you want."
"That sounds great. I’ll buy whatever you can get for the classes I’m in. $100 a paper."
"It’s a deal. Meet me tomorrow after school in the woodworking shop. It should be deserted on Friday afternoon… Don’t forget the money."
The hissing stopped for a second as the tape fell silent. Stacy struggled to get to her feet, but the secretary held her down, her hand firmly pressing down on the teenager’s shoulder.
"There’s more," she whispered menacingly.
Stacy knew that. She knew exactly what was coming. Trembling, she listened as the voices began once again:
"Well," her voice again, "Do you have it?"
"I’ve got it. One stolen English exam paper for Stacy Richards. And my money?"
There was a brief moment of silence, and they the sound of paper being crinkled.
"It’s all there; you don’t have to worry about that… now or in the future."
"Fine, It’s all yours."
"Thanks."
The voices fell silent, and she heard a door slam: the shop door slamming when she left the room. The hiss slowly faded as the recording came to halt.
Stacy went limp, yearbook forgotten; magazines forgotten… Nothing mattered anymore. How could that one incident of cheating on the math test have brought her to this? She brought her hands up to cover her face.
The school principal hit the "stop" button. He looked over at her, struggling to hold back a smile.
"I think you know what this means young lady," he told her.
She knew. Oh… she knew.
Ms. Peabody, still keeping her hand firmly on the blonde teenager’s shoulder, bent down put her lips to Stacy’s ear.
"Summerschool," she whispered. Her tongue flicked out and licked at Stacy’s ear.
"I’m sure," Dr. Grossman continued, watching with glee as his secretary slid her hands down and began mauling the breasts of the unresisting teenager, "that this summer will be a learning experience for all of us…"
THE END???