Of course

You decide you're not going to let Hailey spoil the one thing you've been looking forward to all week. When 3:30 rolls around, you make your way to the main athletic building, and into the women's locker room. Being as self conscious as you are, you're already wearing your uniform under a sweatshirt and some track pants, so you simply have to pull those off, and throw them in your locker. Even then, the tight shorts make you feel insecure. You pull at them, but it doesn't help much. Not much you can do about it, so you head out.

Stepping into the giant gymnasium throws you for a loop. Coming from a high school of less than five hundred students, you've never seen anything like the three basketball courts sprawled out before you. In the closest one, a group of men dressed in basketball uniforms practice their shots one at a time. The middle one is empty, but the the farthest one is set up with a volleyball net, so you assume that's where you need to be.

As you get closer, your heart starts to beat hard in your chest, and it's only made worse when you see Hailey sitting behind the captains table, smiling right at you. Your knees shake as you approach, but you try your best not to show it.

"Brandy Newhaus? You're late." Her voice echoes through the gym.

"I'm sorry." you say sheepishly. "I thought I was supposed to be here at four."

"Two minutes early is three minutes late. Remember that for next time... if there is a next time."

You look to the women flanking Hailey, but they seem unsympathetic. As do the dozen or so girls waiting in the stands to take their turn.

"Now, let's get to it. I want to start by seeing your serve."

You get a little nervous hearing this. Serving has never been the strongest part of your game, but there's not much option. You stand at the back corner of the court, and throw the ball in the air. It makes contact with your fist, but doesn't manage to get over the net, instead dribbling back toward you.

"That was atrocious. We don't tolerate failure at HSU. In fact, we punish it quite harshly... give me your shirt."

You freeze at the command. Could she really be ordering you to take off your shirt in front of everybody? "What-"

"I said, give me your shirt. You fucked up, you pay."

You hesitate for a moment, but eventually you lift your t-shirt above your head, revealing the black bra that holds your large, round breasts. Thankfully nothing too embarrassing. You give your shirt to Hailey, and try to clear your mind of what she might make you do next. You throw the ball up again, and this time your serve is picture perfect. Annoyed, Hailey switches gears, having you both bump and set, which you do perfectly, aware the whole time of your mild exposure. You start to feel optimistic, when she crushes it with a single word.

"Spike."

"Huh? No, that's not my-"

"If you're going to be on this team, you need to learn to do everything properly. Now...spike."

Nervous, you get yourself set up in front of the net. Hailey tosses the ball up, and you jump as best you can, but can't quite get high enough to get the ball over the net.

"Pathetic." spits Hailey. "Give me your shorts."

You try to come up with something to say, but can't. Slowly, with everyone watching, you drop your gym shorts to your ankles, revealing a pair of pink panties with red hearts printed all over them stretched across your ample backside. You hear the giggles, and see some of the basketball players start to turn their attention toward you, but you try to block it out of your mind.