She's left outside to be gawped at

Amira sat with her arms folded protectively over her chest to cover her bare breasts as the corridor began to fill with other students. Her skirt was so short that it barely reached mid-thigh, so she folded her right leg over her left in an attempt to prevent anyone getting a peek at the skimpy g-string that was her privates' only defence against prying eyes. More and more people were surging into the corridor, and many of them - most of them boys - were already beginning to group around her, heads bobbing like meerkats' as they tried to get a glimpse of her puffy dark nipples.

She was so stupid to have got herself into this awful mess. Why hadn't she just called in sick this morning? Why hadn't she searched harder for clean clothes? Why hadn't she called a friend and borrowed an outfit from one of them? Now she was thinking back there were so many ways she could have avoided this horrible situation, but she hadn't been thinking. And now she was stuck here waiting on this chair, trying to ignore the ever-growing mass of staring eyes as she waited for the principal to call her into the office.

"You can kinda see her tits from over here," she heard one of the boys say, and, cheeks burning, she adjusted her arms to deny him his view. "Hey, don't get bashful now," he complained, "You're the one that dressed like a slut, can't blame us for lookin'..."

"I didn't- it wasn't on purpose-" she stuttered, almost too mortified to speak. He was right - everyone was going to think that she was a slut after this. It wasn't fair - she didn't want this.

"Uh-huh..." he said, clearly unconvinced as he shuffled closer, neck craning in search of a better look.

It wasn't just boys in the crowd, though, and she burned as she heard a girl's voice.
"She's normally such a prude," the girl said, "Maybe now she won't act like she's so much better than the rest of us..."

The crowd was still growing, and the rough semicircle of space around Amira was getting smaller and smaller as yet more people arrived to get a look. They were bustling closer to her, and she saw an increasing number of phones raised in the air, snapping pictures of her in her lowest moment. She folded her arms and legs tighter, wishing desperately that she could just fold herself up into nothingness and disappear.

Some of them were bending over, trying to peer up her skirt to get a glimpse of her underwear.

"I heard she's wearing a g-string," one of the boys said loudly, "My mate said she bent over in class just to show it off. He said you could even see her pubes, it was crazy."

"No way! I always knew she was really a slut. Bet a lot of girls who act all modest and shit secretly just wanna show off what they got."

"Yeah, she's just been teasing us all this time," he said, looking scornful, "Come on Amira, give us another show!"

"No! I didn't- I didn't mean to show anything," she protested, "It was an accident!"

She could see more and more people in the crowd checking their phones now though, and with a sense of dread she knew exactly what they were looking at. They were grinning appreciatively, showing their mates, before looking back to her with renewed interest.

"So you 'accidentally' shook your tits for Josh?"

"Whoa, look at them jiggle. Anyone posted it on the WhatsApp yet? I'll put it up..."

"She's just pretending to be modest now, there's nothin' modest about the way she's bouncing her tits in the video..."

"Give us a show! Come on Amira, show us your tits already!"

"Stop teasing, we know you wanna show off."

They were growing closer, and her eyes widened in panic as the mass of the crowd drew up very close around her. Even standing they'd be looming over her - with her sitting down they were towering, almost blocking out the light from the cheap lights in the ceiling. Their hands reached for her, tugging at her skirt, at her ripped blouse, at her hands where they covered her chest. They weren't forceful but they were insistent, and she began to panic. Her headscarf, already torn by the bus, began to come loose, and suddenly it was gone, pulled away as a trophy by one of the boys. She snatched at it desperately, trying to grab it back before it vanished forever, but in doing so she flashed the mass of boys around her a full view of her tits. They let out a jeer of approval, phones snapping more pictures, and now they'd got a glimpse of the goods they were getting rougher.

Their hands were getting bolder, tugging insistently at her skirt. Someone yanked on her blouse, popping another button from the front and exposing more of her smooth, caramel-brown midriff. She could feel someone's hand on her hip, giving her womanly side a feel, and she slapped them away. Unfortunately, all that did was give them another look at her breasts, and this time they weren't satisfied with just looking. Someone gave her right breast a firm grope, feeling the round bulk of her perfect rack, and she squealed as another gave her left nipple a tweak. She tried desperately to push their hands away, fighting to get them off her chest, but there were too many hands - and the moment she focused on keeping them from groping her tits, they were already at her hips and butt again, yanking at her skirt and feeling up her thighs.

Suddenly, the door beside them opened, and the crowd rushed back as the principal stepped from his office, steely eyes glaring around.

"What is the cause of all this disruption?" he demanded, "I can't work if there's a pack of baying hyenas outside my office!"

"It's Amira, sir," one of the boys said promptly, "She's been teasing us. Disrupting our education."

The principal fixed his eyes on Amira.

"Ah yes, I was expecting to speak to you half an hour ago, I've heard all about your disruption from Mrs Pendler. No wonder these young men were distracted - that outfit is completely unacceptable for a student here."

At some point she'd lost her shoes and her blouse had lost what few buttons it had left, but she'd been too distracted by the groping to even notice until just now. Her face couldn't go any deeper a red, but now dressed in only her socks, skirt and her torn open blouse, she was more mortified than ever.

"We'll talk about that inside my office, however. Come!" he opened the door, and shakily Amira began to get to her feet - only to be stopped abruptly as her skirt seemed to catch on something on the chair. The chair was fixed to the wall, preventing her from lifting it, so she half sat down and then tried to get up again, trying to unhook whatever had caught. She was **** to really tug in case it tore one of the few intact items of clothing she had left.

"Don't dither, girl!" the principal snapped, "Just get up!"

Almost hyperventilating, Amira peered over her shoulder - and saw to her horror that there was a thick zip-tie looped from the waistband of her skirt to the chair, fixing the two together. One of the boys must have done it when they were all crowding round, and there was no way to undo it without cutting the zip-tie.

"I-I can't, someone's tied my skirt to the chair," she protested, reaching back blindly to try and break the zip-tie by ****, but it was one of the big ones they used to attach posters outside the school and she was nowhere near strong enough to break it. "Just - can I have some scissors? Please?"

"I don't have time for this nonsense," the principal said, growing more visibly impatient with each moment, "Just sort it, girl. You've disrupted my school more than enough for one day already."

"I don't - doesn't anyone have scissors?" she pleaded, looking around at the crowd, but every face that looked back was grinning. Even if they had something sharp, they weren't about to hand it over - they knew exactly what would happen if she couldn't find something to cut the zip-tie. "Please!"

"You have thirty seconds, girl. If you're not inside my office by then, then today is the last day of your education at this establishment. We have no place here for students who cannot obey even the most basic instructions."

Amira looked around desperately, but she was out of options.