Grandad and
Uncle Robert said their goodbyes, and hung up, leaving Master Mark on the line,
then after some more praise for my courage, a little chit chat about general
things, he reminded me that I had better put my school uniform on, or I’d be
late for my trip. He had to hang up then because he had a meeting to go to, and
a lot of other things to organise, but before he said goodbye, he instructed me
to carefully read the instructions he’d included with my clothes.
The note had
said, “A Birthday Task And Treat”, that I was to wear the full school uniform,
and take a small bag, also that I was a representative of the school, so he was
giving me a role play situation. I was glad that Mom was going with me, or at
least she’d be nearby, but I didn’t understand Sir’s reference to not talking
with any of my friends I might meet. Maybe he was taking me to somewhere I was
known, such as my dance class. His comments about being considerate, and
obedient to elders was something I would do anyway, but since my Sir already
knew that, there must be a special reason for him to include them, so I would
have to take extra care. Then his comment about the tour being interactive
could indicate that someone he knew would test how well I behaved, or at least
observe it. Ooo! a spy on the bus, how intriguing. Yes that was it, I thought,
I’m required to write a report about what happens, and Sir will compare my
version with someone else that is going to be there with me. Mom?
I re-read them
again, just to make sure I knew what was going to be required of me in this
task, but there were still no clues as to where I would be going, or what the
Treat part of it would be. Whatever was to happen, I trusted my Master to look
after me. Although, if I didn’t get dressed right away I was likely to miss the
bus, and my trip would be to the headmaster’s study for a seriously smacked
bottom.
Having just been
spanked, then made to cum, I was my usual dripping, juice self between my legs,
so gave my slit and thighs a quick wipe with a wash cloth, then a spray with my
Little Girl scent. Mom bought me Avon Sweet Honesty when I was five years old,
just after Dad left and we became much closer to each other. All through school
it was my main fragrance, even Junior High, and High School, I would often use
it instead of my more grown up perfumes. For a school trip like this one it
would be perfect. My jewellery check was OK too, since I still had my gold
studs in my ears from last night, and I’d removed my nipple, clit, and navel
jewels for my spanking, as usual.
I slipped the
underwear on, a pink satin bra that was all pleats and very fancy lace, then a
pair of bikini panties, cut more fully than I would normally wear, with a lace
panel at the front, laid over the satin, and several pink satin bows sewn on.
The sizes were a perfect fit, as I fully expected from the man who knows my
body so well, after all, it does belong to my Sir.
The skirt was
next, a blue tartan pattern similar to my old High School style, but not that
colour, and definitely much shorter than I would have got away with back then.
There was a long zipper at the back, too long really for such a short skirt, a
single blue button to fasten the waistband, and quite a few belt loops, though
no belt with it.
The white blouse
fitted beautifully, even the collar buttoned comfortably when I put the satin
bow tie on, which looked quite good, and the front of the blouse had been
tailored to mould perfectly round my breasts. There were no instructions as to
whether it should be tucked in, or worn over the top of the skirt, but I
remembered that Sir had once said how smart girls looked with a blouse fitted
inside their skirt. I tucked it in, what else would my Master want, since this
whole overall effect was leaning towards proper ladylike behaviour.
The final touch
was pulling on the long white socks, three quarter length, not the over knee
style fashionable today, which drew attention upward, along the bare thigh
going under the skirt hem. These were Virgin socks, pure white to indicate the
total lack of sexual experience of the wearer, marking her out as pure and
untouched. I had loved wearing these at school, even in graduation class, when
all my friends had dressed in more adult styles, and I would defend my choice
as representing who I was. I didn’t need to project a false image of someone
older, or someone who’d had sex encounters without any long term commitment. I
had enjoyed my school life, and dressed in this uniform, it was easy to slip
back into that character for a short while.
Mom came down,
having changed into a skirt and blouse, handed me my small light blue purse,
telling me not to open it, as it only contained a change purse in case I needed
to buy a drink later, my phone for emergencies only, and a couple of personal
items of no account. I picked up my ticket, which Mom said I was to hold in my
hand, checked my outfit in the hall mirror, then we left to catch our bus,
chatting about my birthday as we walked up towards the highway.
When we arrived
at the pick up point, Mom sent me to stand by the post with the bus stop sign
on it, while she hung back near a small trash can, and rang someone on her
mobile. I felt quite isolated stood out there, and the memories of catching the
school bus came flooding back to me as I looked out for its approach. After
five minutes a bus came towards us, looking for all the world like a regular Lynx
service bus with a blue advertising wrapper round it.
The morning sun
was reflecting off the windshield, so I couldn’t see very well who was inside,
although it looked fairly full, but there was sign in the front display board
that announced, “Chicken Film Productions – Private Contract”, and another on
the side, next to the entry door. When the door opened I climbed in and showed
my ticket to the driver, who asked me to move down and stand towards the centre
of the bus, which of course I did, acknowledging him as having authority. I was holding onto one of the vertical rails,
just in front of a small group of men, watching Mom as she boarded the bus, and
a young man stood to offer her his seat, leaving her sat a short distance away
from me, but still in sight of each other.
As the bus
pulled away I looked round at the other passengers, honestly not very
impressed, since I was expecting a more luxurious coach, filled with holiday
tourist types, whereas this was more like the bus I catch to work sometimes.
There were a couple of groups of schoolgirls further down, dressed in navy blue
uniforms, chatting quietly, several smartly dressed men and women, some on the
phone, some reading books or magazines, and a man several rows back reading The
Sentinel. I couldn’t see much of him, other than his hands, and the top of his
head, but he had a presence that made him stand out, and I couldn’t work out
just what it was. Slowly, he lowered the paper, and there was Master Mark, on my
bus, in my town, on my birthday, hiding behind a newspaper… My heart leapt to
see him there, but he put a finger to his lips to shush me, having no doubt
seen my face light up. I dropped my eyes quickly, once more looking round the
bus, trying to calm myself, and get back into the character I’d been assigned.
Now I realised
what he’d meant by not having interaction with any friends that I may have seen,
and I’d nearly blown it, although the typically girlish scream I nearly made
would have been in character. I kept glancing his way as I observed the others
on the bus, trying to be obediently casual, and I looked over in Mom’s
direction a few times, where the smile on her face let me know that she knew
all about what was happening. On my next pass, Sir was looking directly at me,
and held up 5 fingers, then motioned for me to lower my eyes.
As I stood
patiently waiting for what would happen after five minutes, someone came and
stood directly behind me, up close. I couldn’t see who it was, but after only a
few seconds I felt my skirt move against my leg several times, then the hem was
lifted, and I could feel the breeze change on my thighs. Suddenly, I had a
flash of insight as to what was happening, but quickly suppressed those thoughts as I realised what my
character was supposed to do. As a schoolgirl I should be embarrassed that a
stranger was trying to see up my skirt, so I smoothed the back down with my
hand, but it was lifted again shortly after. We had a small hand battle for a
few minutes, then my wrist was gently held, and my skirt hem lifted to be
tucked in the waistband. My pantie covered bottom was fondled, a hand was
running up the back of each thigh, and then a fourth hand began to work into
the top of my panties, tracing down the groove between my cheeks.
I’d been
enjoying the thrill of being publically groped, with my eyes kept demurely on
the ground, but I glanced round to see there were now three guys stood behind
me so I was shielded from the other passengers. The hand travelling down my
bottom stroked over my rosebud, making me shiver, but continued further, to the
dripping slit of my pussy, swirling round the wet entrance. Slowly it drew
back, till I felt the wet finger right over my asshole, where it pressed gently
till it slid through the tight ring, although I wasn’t clenching very tight at
all. The hands on my thighs moved up to grip my cheeks, then pulled apart,
spreading my cleft as the finger thrust deeper into my ass till I could feel
his palm on my butt. The finger curled upward, hooking my tailbone from the
inside, then lifting me till my heels were raised, and he kept going till I was
stood on tiptoe.
Someone began to
rub along the gusset of my panties, pressing them into my slit, working from my
clit to my pussy entrance and back again, then pulling the material out so they
could smooth it flat. While they were working my cunny up to a lather, the man
who’d hooked me kept lowering me down, removing his finger, then pushing it
back in so he could twist it round, deep inside my bottom. I was so glad that I
had got myself nice and clean back there when I’d showered this morning. The
finger was now turned forward, and began pressing against the back wall of my
vagina, rubbing up and down till he was pressing against my G-spot, and I
moaned quietly at the rush of sensation through my cunny. I don’t know if it
was the man with is finger up my bottom, but one of them leaned close to me and
whispered, “You like this, don’t you little girl?”
It was said in a
stage whisper, with no attempt to conceal what he was saying, and I saw the man
seated in front of me look up from his magazine, right into my eyes, as if
waiting for my response.
Holding this new
person’s gaze, I answered the man behind me, “Please Sir, I don’t like it,
honest I don’t. I’m not supposed to let men touch me like this, it’s
unladylike. I’m a good girl Sir, please don’t do this to me.”
The man in front
smiled, and spoke to me, “Yes, you are a good girl, my little one. That’s why
you’re going to do as you’re told, just like an obedient schoolgirl should.” He
added, “Now why don’t you put your feet further apart, so this nice man can see
if you are behaving properly.”
Obediently I
spread my feet, feeling the inside edge of my shoes being tapped till they were
about a yard apart, then several pairs
of hands went roughly to work on, and in, my exposed panties. I remembered to
squirm in a token show of resistance, to this assault, but I couldn’t move far
because the man in front was holding my clit hood, and pulling it upward. My
panties were pulled into the crease of my bottom, exposing the cheeks, which
were squeezed, pulled apart, and slapped several times. While the front of my
panties were held up, the back was slowly lowered to expose my cheeks
completely, then I was turned to face slightly towards the back of the bus.
:-)
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