Exercise by the rulebook

The previous day had come to an end, and Victoria Chapell was completely exhausted.

She hadn’t taken the sign off until the last student had left the room. The day was over. The school grounds weren’t. Between Building B and the parking lot lay a strip of grass, a fence, a trash can, and the blind spot behind the workshop. Victoria crept along. Her arms wanted to cross over her chest and hadn’t been allowed to all afternoon. In the shade she did it anyway, hastily, like someone who has to get home and doesn’t know how.

Behind her, phones clicked.

Not loudly. Not with a flash. Just that quiet, polite click of a class that had learned to recite the rules and take photos anyway. Victoria didn’t hear it. The thong was cutting into her. The skimpy bra was a joke under the much-too-thin spare shirt from the costume department. She managed it. Somehow.

In the chat she couldn’t see, Noah was very pleased.

Levi: Here are a few photos of the set. She’s done.

Noah: Good. What are we doing tomorrow? She’s not going to wear a dress that’s too short again.

Maya: Please bring your gym clothes tomorrow. I’ll send you a new page for the book later.

Maya: And guys. Don’t go overboard yet. We want her completely naked. Hold back a little. Please.

The next morning Victoria was already standing in the doorway of Building B, Room 4.

“Everything’s going to be better today.”

Everyone was there. Again. On time. Polite. Noah stood up as class president when she walked in. “Good morning, Miss Chapell.”

Victoria exhaled. What a lovely, polite rule. Today she was wearing a long one-piece jumpsuit that covered even her ankles, a high-collared blouse, and flat shoes. Nothing 1970 could have complained about. The sign wasn’t hanging around her neck. The cut-up dress was still in the trash.

“Good morning. Take your seats. First period: math. Everything will be better today.”

The first period went okay.

Okay meant she was actually teaching. Okay also meant their minds were wandering. At ten, during third period, Noah and Maya stood up.

“Miss Chapell,” Noah said. “It’s time for PE. We’re going to change and meet outside.”

Victoria looked puzzled. “Why PE?”

“Well, just like in the school rules,” Maya said. “Every other day.”

“Oh.” Victoria nodded. “Can I take a look at that?”

Maya handed her the booklet, already open to the right page. The handwriting looked old-fashioned. The page was clean—too clean, if you looked closely. Victoria didn’t look closely. She read: PE at least twice a week.

Women’s PE. Calisthenics. Joint mobility. Stretching.

Typical. No strength training. No nutrition. Nothing modern.

“Okay. Meet outside in five minutes,” Victoria said.

Five minutes later they were standing in front of Building B. The air was cool. The gravel looked pale. Victoria was holding the booklet and about to call the first exercise when Maya cleared her throat.

“Um. Miss. The book says that everyone has to participate. And that the teacher has to demonstrate everything.”

Fine. No problem. She could demonstrate. She could stretch.

Maya cleared her throat again. “But you’re not wearing gym clothes.”

Victoria knew what was coming before Maya said it.

“There’s a penalty if you forget your gym clothes,” Maya said. “You have to do it in your underwear. Forgetting them isn’t an excuse. And you have to do all the exercises twice. That’s what it says on the next page.”

The words came faster than the embarrassment.

“The special rule applies here too. We can’t do PE outside if I’m half-naked. It’s like the cafeteria. The school’s out there. Minors. Windows.”

Noah already had a suggestion. “Then let’s just do it inside. Just like with the food. And we get one wish.”

Victoria looked for an excuse that wouldn’t break the deal and didn’t find one.

“Inside. Curtains closed.”

They cleared the room. Tables against the wall. Chairs stacked. Linoleum and chalk dust turned into a gym. Victoria undressed.

Today: wide-leg panties and a wide-cup bra. White. Soft. Cotton. No thong. No skin-colored joke. And still, when the jumpsuit fell away, Miss Chapell stood in front of the class in her underwear again—only this time like someone who had mistaken thickness of fabric for modesty.

The bra was soft, but her breasts filled it. The cups gave where warmth and weight took hold. The panties sat high on her waist and low enough on her thighs that the curve of her hips stayed bare. White cotton against warm skin. When she turned to put her shoes aside, the fabric pulled tight over her buttocks; the seam dug in.

“First the punishment,” Noah said. “You demonstrate all the exercises once on your own. Then again, with us.”

Victoria stood in front of the class.

Hip circles. Hands on her waist. Slow at first, then faster. Her hips drew a path the white panties couldn’t hide. The fabric rubbed. Her feet were slightly apart. In the front row, trousers shifted. A bulge showed on Levi—plain as anything—when he brought his arms across his lap, and by then it was too late. The same on Noah, better hidden and therefore worse. Victoria saw it and corrected his posture.

Jumping jacks. Her breasts moved in the soft bra. Quite a bit. Every jump lifted them; every landing let them fall. The bra slipped a finger’s width. Once, in the third set of punishment reps, a strap came down. Victoria pulled it up, knowing twenty people had kept that moment—between bare cleavage and fabric—without needing to be told to.

Sit-ups. She lay down on the mat she had brought. The white panties pulled into the cleft. When she came up, her stomach worked, her breasts lay heavy in the bra, her face was red. When she went back down her knees opened a little too wide for a second. The fabric between her legs was no longer only white. A shadow. Wetness that could not be explained as sweat, even though she was sweating.

Jump rope. She didn’t have a rope. She did it with her arms. Ridiculous and cruel. Her panties slipped. Once for real: the edge rode over a cheek, caught, and left the lower curve of her ass bare and shining with sweat. Victoria reached behind her and pulled them up, and that was the pose nobody had asked for and everybody got—bent, bra sagging, breasts hanging forward, half-exposed, flushed.

She was sweating hard. The white cotton went sheer where it was wet. Her nipples stood out dark. The panties clung between her thighs. The boys were past conjecture. Levi sat with one knee up. Noah stood still, hands behind his back, the fabric of his sweatpants taut. Maya breathed through her nose and said only:

“Once more. Now with us. Rules.”

Victoria did it all again. With them. Slower, because her body would no longer quite cooperate, and more precisely, because twenty pairs of eyes followed her hips in a circle as if a problem had been written on the board.

Finally over. She leaned on her knees. Sweat ran into her neckline. The bra stuck.

“The wish,” she said hoarsely, reaching for a joke because jokes made distance. “I bet you want me to stay like this and serve dinner again.”

“No,” they said.

Sofia shook her head.

“We’d like to go swimming in the next PE class.”

Victoria was surprised. Swimming was better than staying like this all day. She felt, briefly, proud of them again.

She agreed before the pictures in her head had finished forming. “The school has a pool. I’ll talk to the principal.”

They changed. So did she. Nowhere did it say she had to stay like that. Then they went to eat. The whole class at one table in the cafeteria, Victoria back in the jumpsuit over a still-damp bra, hair sticky, face bare.

It drew looks. The principal stopped at the table. “You’re really giving it your all, Miss Chapell.”

“Yes,” Victoria said. “We just had gym. I’m really out of shape.”

He smiled, mild. “There’s a shower for that. Maybe pop in quickly. Someone can show you the way.”

“Okay,” Victoria said. “We’ve got twenty minutes before the next class.”

Maya caught all of it: the shower, someone showing her, the twenty minutes.

Victoria spoke to him again. “Is the pool free tomorrow? I’d like a lane. I’m also a lifeguard.”

The principal nodded, impressed by a teacher already using the gym and the pool on the second day of the project. “Approved. The key is in the office. No lifeguard in the morning. You’ll have to supervise.”

“I will,” said Victoria Chapell.

Behind her, at the table, Noah slid his phone under the edge.

Noah: She’s still taking a shower—we have to take advantage of that.

Maya: I’ve got an idea, give me a couple minutes