Fun-sen with a Bunsen

Meryl found herself in Science next, each table dominated by a different group or 'clique' of students. Opposite Meryl's table, at which she sat with a group of close-ish friends: Maisie, a Brunette dressed in a blue tank top and white jeans, Lauren, a ginger in a cute green smock-frock that showed off her figure nicely, and Cheryl, a blonde like Meryl; but unlike Meryl, she styled herself as the bombshell variety, clad in a dark red blouse and a matching skirt and bearing a faceful of makeup — her contouring was to fucking die for. The tutor, Ms. Grimn (pronounced Grim, and boy did she look it) potted about setting up her according to her lesson plans, which were displayed on her nearby laptop. Meryl squirmed a little in her round stool seat, her panties riding up her jacksie something fierce.

Cheryl noticed her wriggling and raised an eyebrow, "Itchy downstairs?" She inquired innocently. Meryl paused, then nodded. "Poor baby doll," She patted Meryl's hand. Cheryl had been calling her baby doll for a good few years now, having started it when they first met, and upon seeing Meryl's slightly uptight demeanour and unimpeachable dress sense, said loudly, "Aren't you perfect? Just, like...the cutest little baby doll!" It had stuck quite firmly ever since. Meryl would just about faint if Cheryl, or anyone else for that matter, discovered that her woes were not owed to an 'itchy downstairs', but rather to a 'downstairs' that was horribly constrained by a certain purple g-string, it's string buried deep in her luscious butt, causing immense discomfort.

Meryl's lips puckered as she dragged her tush over the stool's smooth surface. It seemed to her as if each attempt at relieving the situation down below was excacerbating it, driving the underwear deeper into orificies. She smoothed the surface of her skirt, and shivered as the image of it flying up, or somehow being pulled down came trampling unbidden through her mind's eye. She looked over at Victoria's table and saw the dark-haired bully eyeing her in the manner of a Tiger sizing up potential prey. With Kayla over in the Drama department, Meryl would have to ensure Victoria didn't try anything, or that if she did, it was thoroughly halted before humiliation reigned. "Right," Ms. Grimn announced, "We're ready to start now, I think."

The class started at last, and Meryl breathed a sigh of relief as Victoria's eyes stopped boring into her and focused instead on the droning tutor. "It'll be okay," Meryl muttered to herself, "Just gotta get through the rest of the day..."

They were doing work on...something to do with the Bunsen Burners. Meryl wasn't her usual attentive self, her attention divided between the tightness of her undergarments and the ever-present threat of one Victoria Pinkwell. She pushed her blonde curls over her back, and sighed to herself, her legs held firmly together all the while. There would be no flashing of anyone, not on Meryl's watch, and no through-the-table recordings, she thought, glancing over at the table of Peter Masterson. Peter was Victoria's current flame, though he almost certainly wouldn't be for long, judging by his absolutely shameless ogling of other girls. He had a tendency — whenever he saw Meryl — to fixate on her legs, her chest (thoroughly covered though it was) and her face. Even now, as she looked away she felt his eyes on her, and sensed the lust in him, and where ordinarily it would simply have been something she felt quietly disgusted by, now there was a note of fear in the realisation that he was surely having...thoughts about her. If he tried to poke a phone camera at her bottom half, and if she shifted in the wrong way at the wrong time? Pantygate. Meryl's spotless rep in shreds forever. She would be known as an Angel with a heart of coal, a simpering little slut who presented herself as a prim and proper 'good girl' all the while wearing drastically undersized panties to college.

Yes, she thought, trying to tune in to whatever Ms. Grimn had been saying up till now, Peter would be another developing problem to keep an eye on.

Three-quarters of an hour later, they were beginning work in earnest, each table's occupants operating their bunsen burners under the direction Ms. Grimn. Meryl was in charge of their table's, as she was always singled out as the responsible one. A girl you could trust, a girl for whom there was no question of dilligence and propriety. Meryl was leaning forward to turn the Bunsen on with a slightly tremoring hand, her other hand placed over the back of her skirt, so as to prevent it from riding up and revealing that ridiculous underwear she was currently stuck in. Maisie looked at it, "Are you sure you're alright to do this, Meryl?"

Meryl tried to put on a brave face, turning to Maisie and nodding cheerfully, "Of course!" She answered, "I've got this!"

Meryl did not feel as if she had this at all, but it was the kind of carefree, yet casually confident thing her usual self would have said in this situation. She had hoped as she was saying it that it would instill some semblance of that confidence in her, but to no avail, she was still terrified and struggling not to openly react as she felt the g-string continue to dig luridly into that intimate space between her pert cheeks. They began the first phase of the experiment, the other girls at the table milling about and providing the other necessary components to conduct it. Most of the rest of the class were focusing on their own table's efforts, but one person in particular was eyeing Meryl instead.

Victoria Pinkwell's merciless gaze ran up and down Meryl's body, she could see it was tight and trim even under that annoying little altar girl's fairly conservative clothing, and as her eyes fell upon Meryl's shapely rear, her thoughts turned to that naughty little pair of panties she'd discovered the almighty, sexless nerd she'd thought Meryl always had been was secretly wearing, and she found herself thinking of how the rest of the class, the rest of the College really, deserved to know of the salacious details of what lay under Meryl's skirt. So it was that while Victoria's flunkies went to work doing the experiment (they always did, Victoria wasn't a girl who worked for much of anything, including her grades) while Pinkwell herself skirted round the edge of the table and started to do a circuit of the room, moving slowly toward Meryl's table as her ultimate goal. Before that, she stopped off at another table, that of the group of boys American teen movies would have designated "The Jocks", where her current boyfriend Peter Masterson was sitting, staring uncomprehendingly at the set of instructions for the experiment Ms. Grimn had put on each table. "Psst!" Victoria whispered, and Peter turned his head to look at her. "Oh, hey babe!" He said, a little too loud. She shushed him and gestured for him to keep his voice down, "I want you to watch me do something, ok?"

Peter blinked, then an impish expression formed across his features. "Like, tonight?" He asked, "Is this that girl-on-girl action I asked you about last week, with Daisy Halloran?"

Victoria frowned. "No...no, I mean I'm gonna do something, here, like in a second. The thing with Daisy we can discuss later."

Peter nodded, looking a little disappointed. "Right, right. That's cool, but what are you gonna do?"

"It's a surprise," Victoria leaned in close and nibbled his ear seductively. "Just. Watch." With that, she was gone, creeping further along the outside edge of the room as Peter, like the dutiful boyfriend he was, watched her go. She made sure to stay in Meryl's blindspot the entire time as she made her way up to her longtime victim's table, and as she turned the final corner of one of the adjoining ones, she found herself standing a few feet behind Little Miss Prentiss, her unususally bare legs clearly visible and her blue skirt seeming to want to rise up as it lay trapped beneath the oppressive **** of Meryl's right hand. In this, Victoria saw an opportunity — golden, in fact — and she intended to grasp it with both hands. Literally.

As Meryl endeavoured to complete the experiment, bringing a petri dish with organic material up and holding it gingerly over the open flame of the Busen Burner, Victoria came up behind her, grabbed her and held onto her hips tightly, and whispered into her ear. "Heya, Bubble Butt."

Meryl's eyes widened and she jumped out her skin at the surprise of hands suddenly on her, she jolted forward, falling onto the table and landing on her chest. "Ow!" Meryl complained, loudly, the petri dish went flying up as she had fallen, and was now bouncing off the side of the table and onto the floor. Meryl tried to get up, but felt a rustling on her backside as Victoria gathered up the material of her skirt and lifted it up and over posterior, "What are you—No! No stop!" Meryl cried, but Victoria's only response was to laugh as Meryl's purple g-string came into view, its insufficient cover of her perky, heart-shaped behind seeming so much more salacious since the g-string in question was being worn by THE Meryl Prentiss, the most demure and un-slutty girl at Hartwell. Meryl tried to scoot backwards off the table, and as she did she found that she had fallen directly onto the open Bunsen, the front of her crisp white shirt now aflame. Meryl screamed, the other girls at her table screamed, Victoria screamed, but in her case it was a scream of delight at how fast this was now escalating.

Meryl's arse wiggled lasicivously as she tried to get away from the Bunsen, Victoria tried to stop her, wanting to prolong the humiliation, but in her panic Meryl was uncontrollable. Meryl jumped off the table, landing on her feet right in front of it, the skirt still trapped in its raised position by the edge of the table, giving the class a lovely view of her panty-framed derriere. Meryl's classmates could scarcely believe what they were seeing; was that truly Meryl in that wonderfully horny set of underwear? Was it Meryl fanning her chest as flames ate away at the white, starched cotton of her shirt?

Meryl was shrieking now, trying desperately to put the fire out, so terrified by it that she was heedless to the state of her bottom half. Victoria took out her phone and snapped a little pic of Meryl's buttocks as they jiggled saucily before her, then held the phone up to her mouth to stifle her relentless giggling, and gave Peter a look of satisfaction. Peter appeared equally satisfied, the boy was positively licking his lips at the sight of Meryl Prentiss in a g-string, batting at her own chest as she fought with the mini-inferno dancing upon it. Ms. Grimn was just beginning to pay attention to the commotion, and was clearly bewildered by what she was seeing.

Meryl's friends were still freaking out, but now Cheryl sprang into action, filling an empty beaker with a quantity of water from a sink set into the table, rushing over and screaming, "I'll save you, baby doll!" She cried, throwing the water over Meryl's chest. Meryl gasped at it hit her, wetting her hair and making her mascara run a little, but finally managing to quench the flames. She looked around, dazed, leaning on the table for support, then after a few moments realising her skirt was still up. She shrieked again, her trembling fingers going down to it straight away and trying to pull it down, but instead, she managed to get her fingers hooked into the thin waistband of her g-string and shuck it down a little to her thighs. Meryl gasped in horror, her nervousness and fear so absolute she'd gripped onto the wrong item of clothing. The class buzzed with conversation at this little development, and Meryl felt so, so many eyes on her as she accidentally engaged in a partial mooning of them. She tried to pull her panties back up, but they hitched and stalled on her upper thighs, their awful tightness causing an ill-timed repeat of Kayla's efforts in Merryweather's office.

"No, no, no!" She whinged, yanking the g-string up in **** fashion, making her well-rounded buttocks jiggle even more violently. There were now open gasps going up among the class, and Meryl could feel herself drowning in a vast ocean of despair and embarassment. Her face was burning now in lieu of her chest, and her skirt was still hitched up, now entirely because of Meryl's valiant attempts to pull her panties back up. Ms. Grimn was coming over, saying loudly, "Ms. Prentiss! Cover yourself immediately!" Victoria stared intently at Meryl, knowing full-well this little spectacle wouldn't be able to last much longer. "Nice arse, Prentiss!" She catcalled, and Meryl looked at her with real hurt in her eyes, before looking over her shoulder to see Ms. Grimn coming up, ready to scold her. Meryl put her head in her hands, sobbed, then ran past Cheryl and out of the room, her steps slightly stilted as her panties were still stuck round her thighs.

Victoria watched her go, highly amused. Cheryl, Maisie and Lauren were in a state of shock, and the rest of the class looked as if they'd just had a religious experience. Meryl Prentiss, struggling with panties clearly too small for her, in the middle of science class. What a treat!