At her mercy

Soon everybody had scurried off to lunch. Leaving Monica and Aurora standing in the classroom. Monica covered in paint and cowering. Aurora with a smug smile said, "Well, don't just stand there, strip!". Turning to look at the open door Monica looked back at her sister, begging for Mercy. Aurora just shook her head from side to side.

Not wanting to make her tormentor angry she took ahold of her sweater. Monica could only hope that the many easels in the room blocked them from sight of the girls she could hear rushing to lunch. Shutting her eyes and praying it would be over soon, she got it over with.

As the lunch traffic trickled away, the only sounds were the soft clink of buttons together as a sweater was folded. It was followed by the zing of a zipper being opened and then closed. Anybody looking into the art classroom that moment would see two girls in a study of opposites.

Monica stood naked and trembling, her folded clothes held out to Aurora. Aurora looked perfectly groomed, the image of a lady except for the devious look on her face. Accepting the folded clothes Aurora made a show of inspecting Monica. She was instructed to put her hands straight out, rotate and even squat so that Aurora could 'check if there was anymore paint'.

Now it was time to get clean. Monica looked hopefully at the little washroom attached to the Art classroom and the fullbodied smocks they used for clay or glasswork. But she should've known better than to hope for any mercy now. Pinning her with a look Aurora stepped out of the classroom. Left with **** Monica used her only cover other than her shoes, her two hands. She easily covered both her breasts and her bare mound, but her most embarrassing feature was revealed to anybody who wanted to look.

Aurora stalked through the hallways without a care in the world, Monica's only clothing held in her hand. Behind her, her source of amusement shuffled as fast as she could, fearing that behind every corner was a gawker waiting to comment on her body. While her nakedness could be explained as an accident and excused due to the teacher's note Aurora held. It wouldn't stop the ridicule from the other girls.

Even though it was no longer the 1800s and ' modern girls' went without clothes almost anywhere, her prep school wasn't for just any girl. As the upper echelons of society, polite girls were taught to retain that old fashioned modesty. A girl without clothes in their circles was just asking for her body to be judged.

Whimpering at the feel of a gust of wind passing by, Monica begged in her thoughts that it would soon be over. She swore she could feel eyes on every inch of exposed skin. Under her outstretched arm, both nipples stood at attention. The passing breeze highlighting the moist area between her thighs and both exposed cheeks, now tinged pink in mortification.

Finally they had stopped. In what seemed a show of mercy, Aurora had actually brought her to the locker room. Not even stopping to question her good fortune, Monica went through the door and headed straight for the showers, only barely hearing the start of one of the smaller washing machines used to launder sports uniforms.

Looking at the empty locker room, Monica was still in a state of shock. She couldn't believe she had walked from one side of the school building to the other wearing only her shoes. Anybody could've been late to lunch and seen her oversized cheeks moving as she walked. The rest of her only covered by her hands. Quickly placing her shoes by her locker, she jumped into the shower.

Standing underneath the hot spray Monica gasped in relief at making it there unseen. Despite her rebelliousness she had been raised a perfect lady until her father's loss and the thought of being seen like that was the stuff of nightmares. The little power plays before Aurora and her 'coven' were nothing compared to schoolgirl rumors.

She didn't know how long she was in the shower, just enjoying the hot water, but soon the warning bell rang. Shaken from her enjoyment she wondered if her clothes were dry already. Turning off the shower, she was disappointed to hear the machine still running, but she didn't hear any sign of Aurora. Peeking past the curtain she didn't see any sign of her either except for two little rags hung by the shower stall. The little things were kinda raggedy and looked familiar but it was all she had.

Soon the final lunch bell rang and Monica could wait no longer, slightly dried by the two tiny 'towels' she stepped into the locker area, heading straight for her locker. As she pulled on her P.E. top there was still no sign of Aurora. Had she really left?