No, her bag is gone

Ten minutes later, Mr. Jones returned to the classroom with a small pile of paper under his arm. He had loaded the video material on his computer, did some minor editing, and sent it to all the relevant email addresses. Then, he simply pulled up the contract file, and printed it out. They would just have to put the correct date on it, so that it looked like Anna went through all the necessary measures to make sure she is a candidate.

Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of a still very much naked Anna, hands shielding her privates, and looking very concerned. "I thought you wanted to get dressed?", he asked, honest confusion in his voice.

"Y-yeah, but... it's gone... the bag, my clothes, all my other stuff... I-I had it hidden in the adjacent classroom..."

"...in the other classroom. Hidden from yourself?" He stared at her with a raised eyebrow, but she only hung her head, ashamed. "Don't worry about that, it's very unlikely it was stolen. The teachers are always the first and last to be in a room, so they would notice something like that. I'm sure it'll have been taken to the lost and found."

"O-okay then..." But actually, it was not okay. That meant she was going to be naked longer. Hopefully, Mr. Jones would be able to get her some cover, so she could retrieve her bag...

"More importantly", he dropped the pile of papers on one of the students desks. "Take a seat, and read everything. You won't be able to refuse anymore, but you still have to be aware of all the rules and regulations before you can put down your signature."

Boring legal stuff, Anna assumed. Still, she should take the time to read it carefully, just in case there was some loophole she could make use of. She put her bottom on the chair; it was still warm, from whoever sat there before her. And her butt would make it warmer, while her sticky juices were making a mess... this was so messed up. Some janitor would hopefully clean everything, so that the first class tomorrow wouldn't find her discharge everywhere. But if some old perverted janitor mopped everything up, he would know exactly what happened to her in here. Or was that absolutely irrelevant, considering what Mr. Jones and his class had _seen _happening here, and felt, and heard.... smelled... tasted... the shame was hitting her hard, again. There was just no way any of this could be made right. Maybe the contract could provide a little reassurance.