Is Bonnie still laughing?

Susie wriggled in the air as the merciless flash went off, Anne-Marie's camera zooming straight up her skirt to see the treasures underneath. The cheerleader cackled demonically, pointing and jeering and encouraging her posse of girls to join her in documenting this most intimate view of her unlucky victim. The boys' gaze felt like it was shooting straight up through her pussy and into her soul. Twenty feet in the air did not feel nearly high enough.

To her right, a sweating and dishevelled Megan Honey with her unpinned hair loose around the neck of her sweater was telling the boys in her class that they were going to get into all kinds of trouble. To her left was Bonnie. Susie gritted her teeth at the thought. Bonnie, the only girl lucky enough not to wear a skirt, just hanging there with her dignity intact, having the temerity to laugh at them. It wasn't fair! She looked left, hoping a single cold glance would be enough to command the her best friend into silence.

But Bonnie wasn't laughing.

She was, in fact, very quiet. She was hanging perfectly still in the air, not daring to move, as if she felt the slightest twitch would draw unwanted attention. Her face was damp with sweat, her curls mussed, and her pretty freckled cheeks were beginning to turn very red indeed. Susie looked down, and saw why.

She gulped, and turned away, but it was too late. Hank, who was staring directly at her, had seen her move. He followed her gaze, and saw Bonnie.

"Hey," he said, and tugged Ben's arm.

"Dude," said Ben, his head not moving by even a inch. "Pussy."

"Look this way."

"Pussy," Ben breathed, entranced, and quite audible to the furious young lady above him. "Susie's pussy."

"I can hear you, you know!"

"Susie's pretty pussy."

"Dude. Trust me."

"Pussy," said Ben, as if explaining something obvious to someone very stupid. Hank grabbed his head and physically turned it towards Bonnie, which he could do, since he was a football player and much stronger than Ben. Bonnie, who was watching all this in utter dread, trembled very slightly as the gaze of the two boys fixed on her.

"Dude," said Ben, impressed. "More pussy."

"Right?"

"Bonnie's pussy."

"That's right," said Hank, and sucked in a deep breath. He was famous for his yell. It was one of the loudest yells in Pinkwhistle. Last year, he'd come second in the All-State Yelling Championship at the annual Pinkwhistle State Fair.

"Hey, everyone!" he yelled, as loud as he could. "Bonnie Driscoll has NO PANTS ON!"

Heads turned all across the carnival to confirm that this incredible thing was correct. And it was. Bonnie, hanging in front of the whole town, her arms fixed above her head, quite incapable of fleeing or covering up, wore a gingham shirt and nothing else. When the other girls had lost their panties, she'd lost both her panties and her jeans. Below the waist, she was stark naked.

Bonnie, who'd come first in the All-State Yelling Championship, sucked in an even deeper breath and hollered "EEK! EEEEEEK! DON'T LOOK AT ME!". Naturally, this caused everyone to look at her. If she'd been thinking clearly, she wouldn't have done it. But it's impossible to think clearly when you're trapped in front of everyone you know with no pants on, your round athletic tomboy bottom and ginger pubes and pretty pink pussy on display. So she can't be blamed for that.

"Get her," yelled Anne-Marie, who hadn't even placed in the Championship. But it was still loud enough for all the cheerleaders to get their phones out.