Sarah stood in the doorway to Mr. Leighton’s office; a corner of the large main house where the warden conducted his business.

He was diligently reading a file spread across the green-hued blotter, an antique lamp off to one side casting a dim light across the stack of papers pinned under one side of the brown cover.  She could see the name on the file.  It was her’s.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

The man looked up.  “Yes, hello, Sarah.  Please, come in and close the door behind you.”

Sarah swung the heavy oak door gently behind her, careful not to rattle the plaques and awards that adorned the wall. She then stepped forward until she stood dutifully in front of the large desk, feet apart, her hands clasped smartly against the small of her back. She could feel the crest of the farm’s insignia, embroidered on the strip of cloth wrapped around her hips, tapping against her pubis, reminding her of her sexuality as she waited for his instructions.

“You can sit down, Sarah. We don’t need to continue the pretense in here. Nobody can see or hear us, so I want this to be an open and honest discussion.”

Sarah wasn’t surprised. Whenever Thomas wanted to speak to her in private, he often did it in here. Her assignment as one of the housemaids gave her a satisfactory cover for her often being in his office.

She wore the uniform of a convict, a light orange-colored tunic with matching loincloth identifying her as an assignee of the farm.  She had been there almost a week now, toiling with the other assignees, spending her nights amongst them in the stables instead of sleeping in the fine master bedroom in the main house.

Gently, she lowered herself in to the leather upholstery of the chair, her soft skin settling into the cold material as she straightened her tunic and pressed her knees together, more out of habit than modesty. “How may I please you, sir?” she said coyly.

He laughed. She was playing the role with gusto. “I’m glad you’re in a good mood…” he started.

“You mean there are times when I’m not?”

He paused. He realized he was heading for troubled waters.  “I mean… well, I… it was just a figure of speech.”

She smiled. “Relax. I was just having a little fun. What’s on your mind?”

He passed a brochure to her, indicating that he wanted her to read it.

“As a state-contracted operation, we are obligated to participate in state-sponsored projects; labor pools, university studies, educational outsourcing, that sort of thing. Well, one project that’s come down from the capital is a new sociological initiative that I thought would bring some positive political clout to Leighton Acres.  It involves educational outsourcing of assignees to local schools.”

“’Educational outsourcing’? What are you talking about? What is that?”

“Basically, it’s transferring you to work in the schools as a presentation to teens; sort of a learning aid of sorts, for a week.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “A learning aid?  And what exactly would I be doing?”

“Well, you’d be part of the initial test group for the Program of Human Mores study.  It’s there in the pamphlet I handed you.”

Sarah unfolded the small rectangle of paper.  She scanned the text, her eyes picking up one crucial item.  She read aloud, “… and the subjects shall be nude at all times…”  She looked up at him. “And you immediately thought of me?”

“Well,” he started, choosing his words wisely, “it’s like this. As a state-run organization I’m forced to participate in a number of these things. I don’t have much choice. But what I do have is the power to choose which ones to participate in.  Believe me, compared to some of the quack programs that have come down, this is the least abhorrent of the lot, and might actually have some value in its goals.  It’s being driven by the Free Women’s Movement, as a way to liberate women from their traditional roles in society.  I thought you might appreciate their goals.” 

Sarah was familiar with the Movement. She’d written a dissertation on the origins and goals of it as part of her curriculum.  Her dissertation had been well received, and had been quoted by news outlets covering the public events the Movement staged.

She looked at him curiously, wondering just how much he knew about the Movement, and decided to have a bit of fun. “So what does nudity have to do with anything?”

Thomas explained. “By removing the barriers… by removing the mystique of women's bodies and allowing men to see women as something other than just sex objects… by showing women in total freedom…” he was fumbling, trying to capture their position without fully comprehending it.

Sarah smiled. “You don’t understand it at all, do you?” She giggled. “You just want me naked.”

He smiled, “Well, yeah,” he said quickly, “but I do appreciate what they’re attempting to accomplish.”

“Thomas,” she started, “the Free Women’s Movement wants to show that women are just as strong, and just as capable, as men and should have the same freedoms from social restrictions, such as the conceptulization of nudity.  I suspect that this Program is intended to reflect women’s bodies in a normalized manner; showing that we're just as capable as men while removing stigmas associated with the female form, and showing that we’re still capable of retaining our femininity – our identity – as women, while working towards the same ambitions as men.  Is that what you were trying to say?”

Thomas gave her a wide-eyed look of astonishment. “Ok,” he stammered, “if that works for you, then I agree.”

She laughed. “You’re an idiot,” she said with a smile, “but you’re my idiot.  You should be glad you have me.”

“I am,” he replied sincerely, “and I’m glad you’re here to remind me of my shortcomings.”

She grinned. “Ok, so now what?”

“A representative from Stalin High will be coming by to collect you shortly.  After you’re signed out here, you’ll be driven to the school where you’ll be signed in by their staff and a receipt transmitted to me here, confirming your placement.”

Sarah pursed her lips, pouting. “You make it sound like I’m just a piece of property; like I’m being rented out.”

“You are. Convicts are the property of the state, even if the state doesn’t officially have you on its records.  Sarah, that's a benefit to my choosing you for this.  If things get too rough for you there, you can give me a ring and I’ll come get you and explain that you're not an inmate and that there was some sort of mix-up.  That’s why I want you to go rather than one of the true assignees.  But please, don’t just call for me at the first sign of trouble. The farm could get some very good compensation for our participation and if we pass on it, we'll lose out on the award.  There’s the business end of things to consider.”

Sarah nodded.  She understood what was at stake. It was a good business decision for the farm.

Just then, a chime gently toned that a visitor was at the front gate.  Thomas examined the visitor’s ID and typed the passcode to allow entrance onto the farm’s property.

“That’s your escort now,” he said, standing up.  Sarah lifted herself out of the leather chair as Thomas crossed around the edge of the desk and took her hand. He drew her close and kissed her delicately on the lips.  She could smell the aroma of him, a mix of oil and leather and sweat – his own personal scent - as she felt the cold steel of handcuffs around her wrist.

She sighed. “I keep forgetting about those,” she said.

“I know.  They’re a legal requirement. I can’t have my charges wandering off unfettered on a field trip.  Fortunately, you’re a low risk.”

She smiled playfully at him as he snapped a steel ring around her other wrist. “Are you suggesting that I’m not dangerous?”

“Oh, you’re very dangerous,” he replied with a wink, “but only to me.”

"Perhaps Mr. Leighton would like to show me what happens to dangerous girls..."

Thomas paused.  She was in one of her moods.  He realized he better let her get it out of her system before she was unleashed on the unsuspecting students.

"Alright, my love," he growled tenderly.

Sarah dropped to her knees and unfastened his belt and the catch at the waist, then slid the zipper down as far as it could go.  She looked up at him with a smile as her cuffed hands felt inside the folds of cloth for the treasure hidden underneath.  It didn't take her long to find it.

Soon she was cradling his manhood in her hands, supporting the swelling tissue in her delicate fingers.  She circled the sensitive head with her thumb and forefinger and gave it a slight shake as his cock began to fill and rise. 

She ran her nails gently along the length of the shaft, encouraging the colorful tissue to its full glory, the ridges becoming pronounced as they encircled his organ.  Gently, she reached deeper into his clothing, found his scrotum, and guided it out of its hiding place beneath his shaft.  With the lightest of touches, she caressed his balls through the leathery sack, feeling them begin to pulse with excitement as she continued to tease his member, the column twisting and rising as it filled with blood.

Soon he was fully engorged. She gently stroked the warm skin, caressing his manhood with her fingers.  A slight drop of clear fluid leaked from the tip of his swollen head, and she leaned forward, still grasping his balls in her hand, and extended her tongue, licking at the sticky pre-cum.  The sensation of her tongue against the head of his shaft caused Thomas to moan, and she knew he was ready.

She opened her mouth and slid the firm rod down her throat, her lips caressing the purple veins as she took all of him in, her tongue dancing against the shaft until his head was buried deep within her throat.  She began to move her head rhythmically, sliding his cock between her soft lips as she tickled the underside of his balls with her fingertips.

She could hear his breath becoming heavier as she worked on his cock.  Playfully, she pressed his balls between her fingernails and tugged slightly, eliciting a moan of pain and pleasure from the man who had cuffed her wrists together and cast her into the prison system.

He was swaying with her movements now, settling into a rhythm as she continued to stroke his cock with her lips; her fingers pressing and tickling his balls as his breathing became deep and labored. Suddenly, she felt his balls tighten as he pitched up onto his toes and drove himself deeper into her.

"Sarah, I..." was all he got out before he exploded in her mouth.

Unfazed, she continued to stroke his cock, draining the fluid from him as the warm goo slid down her throat.  She swallowed it hungrily, welcoming it into her body.  She loved him, and she wanted to take some of him with her when she left.

Finished and completely spent, Thomas fell back against the edge of his desk, his hands steadying him as his cock, moist and pink, disgorged itself from Sarah's mouth.  She looked up at him and smiled as she wiped at the corner of her lips, her wrists still cuffed together.

"I hope I've learned my lesson," she said huskily, "or else you may have to punish me again."

"Yes, let this be a warning to you," he said with a smile as he tucked his spent member back into his pants.

***

Sarah stood naked on the stage, arms outstretched, balancing herself on one leg with her other leg bent upwards behind her, like a figure skater.  She wondered how she must look in that position, how she must look with her pink slit peeking out from between her thighs.

The cluster of students, their faces hidden behind the framed canvas squares, worked diligently on their assignment.  The silence of the room was broken only by the rustling of their brushes and the occasional mumbled comment by the art teacher as he studied the progress of the future Rembrandts.  She closed her eyes and began to remember the morning's events.

Sarah had arrived at the school in full shackles, stumbling out of the van like a prisoner accused of black, bloody murder.  It had been her escort’s doing; claiming that he was alone and didn’t want to take any chances with her trying to escape. Sarah knew he was just playing a dominance game, but she went along with it because she knew it could be dangerous for her if he later accused her of anything.  Emerging from the government van scantily clad and wearing heavy chains, she could imagine the picture she must’ve presented to the cluster of students that had gathered around the door to the school to witness her arrival.

The whistles and catcalls had been crude, but expected, as the escort guided her past the crowd, through the doors, and into the dean’s office where she was introduced to a bookish man with a friendly, disarming smile. He explained the rules of the school – what the students were expected to do, their rewards system, tardiness bells, demerits – and had expressed his concerns about having a convicted offender wandering his hallways.  The dean admitted that he had ordered the escort to shackle her.  He had read her file sent from Leighton Acres, and that her clinical notes had stated she was prone to violence at the slightest provocation - hence the chains.  Sarah had laughed to herself, imagining what sort of charges Thomas had put in there. 

The dean then explained the rules of the Program – that she would be naked at all times while on the school grounds, that she would be given assignments to perform during her stay, and that she would be housed at the school until the assignment ended. A security guard would be assigned to watch her at night. She would have a schedule for mandatory classroom visitations, and she'd have to use the boy’s bathrooms and showers.  She could not refuse any requests by students to see or touch any part of her body, so long as the request was reasonable and did not pose a risk of injury to herself or to others.  She could be touched anywhere at any time by anybody, but she could not be ordered to touch another person.  After Sarah had acknowledged her understanding, he had ordered the escort to take her chains off.

After the guard unlocked the cuffs and gathered the lengths of chain in his arms, she had been told to strip.

She had never been forced to strip before, much less in front of strangers.  In her last night as a free woman she had stripped voluntarily, trying to seduce Thomas into playing one of her games; trying to let her play the naughty convict while he played warden.  That was the night he, after buckling her into the inspection stand, changed the rules and gave her a prison-style inspection, making her gag and cramp as he gave her upper and lower gastro-intestinal exams with his fingers. It was the same exam he gave to all of the convicts assigned to his farm.  It had been the single-most unpleasant experience she’d had up to that point.  She hoped nothing like that would happen here.

“Is there a problem?” the dean asked, his voice sterner now, bringing her back from her memory of that night at Leighton Acres.  She glanced up at him, the guard standing behind him, off to one side, his hand resting threateningly on the wooden baton against his hip.

“No, sir” she replied, “no problem.”  She quickly slipped off the canvas shoes she’d been given at the farm and placed them into the box indicated by the dean.

She was surprised at her nervousness. She’d never reacted this way before. She’s been naked plenty of times, particularly in unusual situations of her own doing, and always with Thomas. Maybe that was the difference now. He wasn’t there to protect her. In an office in front of two strange men, she was being forced to strip. She suddenly felt very vulnerable and alone; and very afraid.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and reached for the hem of her top, lifting it up over her head.

The farm's tunic was designed to be form-fitting, with body support built in to the design. As a result, she hadn’t been issued a bra.  None of the assignees had.  As she lifted her top over her shoulders, the two men got a peek at the two soft ovals that capped her gently bobbing breasts. She quickly tried to cover herself with one arm as she folded the material and placed it in the box marked with her name.  She shook her hair out, using her free hand to brush it gently back into place, then reached for the flap of her loincloth.

Thomas had taught her how to fold it around her hips and between her legs. When he had first given it to her, she didn’t know what it was. Her first attempts at wearing it had been comical, but with Thomas' help she had eventually figured it out and had become so proficient at wrapping it that she sometimes helped the other female prisoners with theirs.  As a garment, it was simple and effective; and comfortable once she had gotten used to having that much skin exposed.  Thomas had explained that there was a practical reason for the design as well.  While the tunic was custom-tailored to the individual wearing it, the loincloth was more generic and therefore cheaper and easier to replace as the garment became soiled or damaged.  Experience had shown him that women tended to go through more bottoms than tops, so he had designed his uniforms accordingly.

Now the little strip of cloth was the only thing protecting her modesty.

She slipped the embroidered flap up through the knot just above her pubis, then began to unwrap the length of cotton from around her hips.  She had to use both hands to unfold the material, allowing her breasts to hang freely as she reached down, offering the men occasional glimpses of the sensitive teats as they swayed between her arms.  When she had finished her ministrations, she gathered the length of cotton in her hands and placed it in the box.

She had then stood completely naked before the men, stripped of every item on her body.  Shoulders back, head up, feet apart, she had put on a strong, proud visage even as she felt her blood rushing through her veins.  It was embarrassing, yes, but she had done it.

After the two men had gotten an eyeful and regained their composure, she had been given a piece of paper with a list of classrooms and the times she needed to be there. Her first assignment was Art and the room, she had been told, was on the opposite end of the school.  She knew that assignment had been intentional. Nothing like making her take a long walk in the buff in front of a crowd of people to break her spirit. 

As she had reached for the door knob she could hear the nervous rumblings of a crowd on the other side of the office door.  She paused, summoning her strength to go through with it. She could back out now.  It wasn't too late. The reception she had gotten as she had stepped of the bus was just a taste of what was to come. She steeled her nerves and opened the door. She knew they were there to see her.

Naked.

A low roar went up from the kids gathered conspicuously around the office. "There she is!" someone had whispered. "I heard we can do anything we want to her." "Really?" "Yeah." Then a girl's voice, "She's probably  a whore. I wouldn't touch that trash."

Most of the mob had kept their distance as she exited the office, and she had noticed more than a few of the boys adjusting the bulges in their jeans.  The girls had given her the up-down look as they judged her body against their own.  Most of the crowd kept a nervous distance, but a handful moved a bit closer than she wanted. As she dropped her head and quickly walked away from the office, a few boys fell in step behind her like cheetahs chasing a gazelle, getting close enough that she could feel their hot little breaths against her neck as they pushed their way through the energetic crowd around her.  More than once, she felt an elbow briefly brush against her breasts and she knew it wasn't by accident. The slaps and pinches against her ass were most definitely intentional.  Every touch had seemed to take a little more her humanity away.

Part of her felt like crawling into a little corner somewhere and crying. Another part told her to keep going.

And then she had realized she was lost.

She had stopped and at least two boys bumped into her bare back.  One looked at her with a nervous grin and just smiled. The other apologized and jabbed his friend.

"Could someone please tell me how to get to Room E201?" she had asked, trying to play it off like it was perfectly normal for a woman to be walking around a school naked.

"Sure," the second one said, "just go up these stairs, turn right, and its down the hall."

"Thanks," Sarah had replied.

As she had climbed the wide staircase she realized the two boys were still following her, and because of the height of the steps, their faces were right level with her ass.  The two boys giggled as they watched Sarah's twin globes rock gently back and forth with each step up the creaking wooden stairs.  She rolled her eyes and sighed, then quickly dashed up the rest of the way until she was on the landing.

The two boys had clomped upwards after her, taking the stairs two at a time, the second one beating her to the top.

"So," he had started, "you have to do anything we say, right?"

"No," she had replied, setting up her defense, "there are limits."

"Well, yeah," the first one said between crooked teeth, "but pretty much we can touch you wherever we want, right?"

Sarah had sighed defeatedly, then muttered yes.

The first one looked at the second, grinned with excitement, and clamped his hands on each of her breasts.

"Ow!" she had shouted, "not so hard!" Surprised by his manhandling, she had instinctively slapped him.

The boy had stood transfixed in the hall, a look of total shock on his face even as he held her breasts in his hands. Sarah realized that she had broken one of the rules and quickly said, "Be gentle, ok?" hoping to distract them from her infringement by allowing them to continue to fondle her tits.

The boy nodded, and gently cradled them in his hands. "They're softer than I thought they would be," he commented.

The other boy nudged his partner out of the way and took his turn cradling Sarah's bare breasts. "They're warm, too." he added.

"Are we done here?" Sarah asked, "because I really need to find this class."

"Yeah, ok, whatever." They pointed in the direction of the room and melted into the sea of bodies moving down the hall.

Now, ten minutes later, she was standing naked in front of a class of students who were diligently studying every curve of her body.

She could feel their eyes as they scanned her bare flesh, like a thousand invisible hands touching her skin.  As she stood there, trying not to move, imagining all of those eyes staring at her, she began to think about Thomas, and then she began to feel a familiar tingling.  She was becoming a little horny.

The teacher had told her to assume the figure skater pose because he thought it would be the greatest challenge for the students artistically, to capture the different dimensions proportionally to the angle of view.  It also gave a few of the lucky ones a very good view of her pussy; a pussy that was beginning to demand some attention.  She wondered if the male students would recognize an aroused labia. Of course they would, she thought to herself, and she tried to think of other things; things that were a less stimulating. Like the boys in the hall.

At first she had tried to keep her leg down, trying to protect her little kitty, but the professor had picked up his baton and gently tapped at her leg until she had raised it as far as she could. Now, that leg was burning from being suspended for so long, and the leg she was balancing on was beginning to tremble with fatigue.  She started to topple as the professor called for a break.

She sat on the floor and rubbed the cramps out of her aching legs as the professor walked over and handed her a bottle of water.  "You're doing well," he said complimentarily, "you should consider doing this as a vocation."

Sarah looked up at him and smiled politely, "Thanks, but I have other plans."

"Your body says otherwise."

Sarah flashed a look of horror.  Had he seen? Of course he had. How could she hide it?

"I meant in a good way," he explained, "You have a beautiful body.  Maybe if you took a look at some of the pieces, you'd feel better."

The professor helped Sarah stand up.  He seemed nice enough.  He hadn't tried anything, other than tapping at her with that baton.  At least he hadn't groped her.  He hadn't even tried to touch her directly at all, except to help her up.  That was a perfectly polite thing to do; nothing alarming.  She began to feel less self-conscious about herself and being nude in the classroom and focused on the pieces of art spread around her.

The first one was severely lacking in talent.  The next one was just a large vagina.  The third one looked like an explosion of atomic particles and charcoal.  They were all pretty much the same level of quality and skill level.

But there was one that caught her eye.  Or rather, her body.

The boy was still working on it, shading in the curves to bring depth to her torso while adding shadows to the background.  He was smaller, with square-rimmed glasses and dark hair combed over his forehead.  He seemed to be in a trance as his hand feverishly brushed across the canvas.

The teacher whispered in Sarah's ear, "He gets like this sometimes. When the Muse hits him, she hits him hard."

Sarah looked closer at the portrait.  The boy was focused solely on the "D" shape she had made with the arch of her back and the curve of her leg, completely omitting the front part of her torso, although the shading indicated that it was indeed part of a human body. But he was doing something with the shadows behind her, almost forming another picture.

And then she saw it.  Inside the curve of her body was the profile of another person's face, the outline of her leg forming the silhouette of the other person's cheekbone.  The effect was amazing.

"Wow," she whispered to him, "that's really good."

"Thank you," the boy replied, not bothering to take his eye from the piece or slow his hand against the canvas.

The professor gently pulled at her shoulder, guiding her away from the boy. "He's here as part of a special education program.  He's been diagnosed as a savant, and art is his way of communicating with the rest of us."

Sarah glanced back at the boy, who continued to work at a feverish pace.  He was certainly determined.

Just then the bell rang and the boy dutifully put his chalk down, picked up his bookbag, and marched off to his next class as if he had completely forgotten about the portrait.   She went back to see it one last time before she, too, left for her next assignment.

Inside the curve of her back was a detailed drawing of a human eye, with the rest of the facial features represented only slightly by shadows and lines.  A mystery.  She took a mental photograph of the portrait and left the room.

Out in the hall, her two friends were back.  The gap-toothed one leaned against a handrail and leered at her.  The other one sidled up to her and said, "you know, I didn't really get a good feel."

"Bug off," Sarah replied, "I have a class to attend."

"But, its a reasonable request."

"I said bug off."

Gap-Tooth now walked over and asked, "Are you refusing to do what he says?  Can't you get in trouble for that?"

Sarah stopped, turned to face the two boys, dropped her arms to her sides in frustration and replied, "Fine. Go ahead and touch them."

Gap-tooth's friend stood there, raised his hands tentatively, then saw the irritated look on her face. "I... I don't think I want to. Not now. Maybe later."  He punched Gap-Tooth on the shoulder and said "Come on, let's go."  Soon they had vanished into the sea of students, some of whom had lingered around during the exchange to leer at Sarah's exposed breasts before moving on to their next class.

Sarah looked at her assignment sheet. It simply said "Wood Shop". No room number, no floor number.  She looked at the sea of faces around her and said, "Excuse me, can someone tell me where the wood shop is?" Someone said "Downstairs, in the back", and Sarah was on her way.

As it turned out, Sarah discovered that the reason the Wood Shop didn’t have a classroom number was because it was its own stand-alone structure situated behind the main school building.  She also discovered that the Wood Shop could be a noisy place to be.

Unless a naked woman walks through the front door.

No sooner had the heavy door slammed shut behind her than every eye was trained in her direction, the power tools slowly cycling down as the boys – and what few girls there were - stood motionless over their various projects.  The air was filled with dust, the sunlight twinkling through the high-ceilinged rafters where cables of various sizes snaked through steel beams and screen-covered hanging lights hung like industrial stalactites. She began to feel extremely out of place amongst the helmet-clad students, their tools suspended in their gloved hands as she stood, naked and exposed, in the entranceway.

“Miss, can I see you in my office for a moment?”

Sarah turned towards the sound of the deep, booming voice as a middle-aged man with a thick beard guided her towards a small room near the doorway.  He looked exactly like she imagined a shop teacher should look. A rough hand reached out and nudged her shoulder, directing her into the teacher’s office.

“Continue your projects, I’ll be out shortly,” the man said to the living statues that dotted the shop.

The office was small, but functional.  The desk was neat and well organized.  Most certainly not what she expected from someone who works with their hands.

“I know you’re in the Program and all that, but here in Shop we have some basic safety rules. First, everyone wears goggles, gloves, and a hardhat. Second, everyone wears proper footwear and an apron. No exceptions.  I understand you’re not allowed to wear clothing during your visit, but I can’t have you wandering the shop floor without protective gear, and I can’t have you distracting the students.  Power tools can be dangerous things in the hands of novices and these kids are indeed novices. The last thing I need is one of them having a momentary lapse in focus and cutting their fingers off. So, I’d appreciate it if you would confine yourself to my office during the class period, ok?”

“Yes, sir”, Sarah responded, “I understand completely.”

“Thank you,” he said as he exited the office, the din of electric motors and banging hammers rushing through the open door, only to be muffled again as it closed behind him.  She heard the man bark a few orders as he waded into the ocean of noise.

Sarah looked around the tiny room.  It was surprisingly clean for a place that was so close to a continuous source of dust and grit.  Still, she didn’t want to take any chances.  She found a roll of disposable towels, peeled a few off, and set them across the seat of a cushioned chair before sitting down.

She leaned back, draping her long brown hair across the back of the chair.  It was nice to have some privacy, to be away from the constant staring of strangers.  She crossed her arms across her chest and closed her eyes, trying to nap, but the noise of the power tools was too distracting.  After a few minutes she gave up, and with a groan of frustration raised herself out of the chair.

She paced around the office, looking for something to read.  The shop teacher had a few magazines and tool catalogs, but those didn’t interest her much.  Then she found the furniture advertisement.

The teacher had circled a few pieces; a table, a chair, a bookcase; all fairly simple designs. Something a novice could build with the right tools.  Obviously this was his lesson plan for the class. Her curiosity piqued, Sarah parted the small curtain covering the office’s window and peered out to watch the class build its furniture.

That’s when she saw Gap-Tooth and his friend, who were working on a near-duplicate of the table in the advertisement, except their version was longer – nearly 10 feet long by the looks of it – with thicker legs. It was a curious design. Stout and long and heavy, she wondered how the two boys would manage to get it out of the shop when they were finished with it.  She looked around at the other work areas where students were busy making shelves and planters, each one nearly identical to the one being built next to it.  Gap-Tooth and Company were the only ones making something custom.

Becoming bored with the view, she stepped back from the window and looked around the office again. A pair of leather gloves, an apron, hardhat, noise-canceling headphones, and safety goggles hung neatly above a worn set of boots. The apron would cover as much of her as the Leighton Acres uniform did; except in the back where the apron didn't reach.  She quickly decided she could handle a little rear exposure just to get out of solitary confinement in that office.  She donned the gear and opened the door.

“Anybody need a hand?” she announced, standing smartly with her hands on her hips, feet apart, head held high, and her bare legs exposed provocatively between the shop apron and the oversized boots.

Gap-Tooth and Company yelled enthusiastically as the shop teacher quickly walked over to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled.

“I got bored in there and decided to come out here.”

“I told you, I can’t have you…” he started.

“Look,” Sarah replied, stopping him in mid-sentence, “I know my way around a shop.  And I’m wearing all of the protective gear you required.  I’ll stay out of the way.  I just don’t want to spend the whole hour in there doing nothing. Ok?”

The man looked at her.  He didn’t like the idea of a stranger in his class to begin with, much less one that would be a distraction.

“No, I won’t have you walking around the shop,” he barked.

“Please?” she begged, "I promise I won't cause any trouble.  I grew up on a farm. I know how to use tools."

The man paused, thinking, weighing the risks.  He'd been told that she was supposed to be accessible to the students.  He offered a compromise. “Ok,” he said, “but you can only work with one team, and that team only, for the rest of the time you’re here. And that team will be…” He looked around the shop, surveying the various projects, trying to find one where she would cause the least amount of trouble.  Finally, he saw Gap-Tooth’s table. “That one, the one with the table. They’re done cutting wood and are down to the sanding and painting stage.  You shouldn’t cause too much trouble with just sandpaper.”

Sarah looked at the two boys. It wouldn’t have been her first choice out of the various groups, but at least it got her out of the office. “Ok,” she said, as she walked over to Gap-Tooth.

The two amateur carpenters looked at her, grinned to each other, then looked back at her.  They could barely contain their excitement. They had just won the lottery.

“So,” Sarah asked as she stood in front of the pair, “what are we working on here?”

“It’s a table,” Gap-Tooth said.

“Yeah,” his partner said with a laugh, “a really big table.”

“And what do you plan to do with it?” Sarah asked.

The pair laughed. “Well, it’s a table!”

“I see that,” Sarah responded slowly, “I mean, what do you plan to do with it *now*. Sand it? Stain it? What?”

“Oh,” the partner said, “we was thinking of maybe leaving it bare naked, like you!”

Sarah closed her eyes, cocked her hips to the side, and tried to contain her anger.  She couldn’t just walk away or else she’d end up right back in the office.  The words "... prone to violence when provoked..." echoed through her mind.  She exhaled through flared nostrils as the two boys laughed to each other.  She waited until their laughter subsided, then leaned in close to them and placed her clenched fists on the table. 

“Ok, geniuses, listen up. I’m here because being here is marginally better than being back in there," she said, nodding towards the office, "so we’re going to come to an agreement right here, right now. Knock off the crappy jokes and the groping and playing grab-ass with each other and focus.  I’ll work with you, but only if you’re serious about working. Otherwise, I will – and I mean it – kick both of your asses before I go back into that office and you can spend the entire hour playing circle jerk with each other again. Got it?”

The two boys looked at each other, their grins dropping faster than their spirits. Their lottery boom was on its way to becoming a bust.

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.

“Fine. Now tell me what we’re building here, because it sure as hell isn’t the table that’s in the catalogue.”

Gap-Tooth looked at his partner, then to Sarah.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sarah replied automatically.

“No, seriously. Can you keep a secret.”

Sarah looked at them. She was about to be included in their inner sanctum, as shallow as it was. She leaned in closer to them and lowered her voice. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“We’re building a rack.”

“A what?”

“A rack,” his partner replied, “we started out building a table, like what's in the book, but what are we going to do with a stupid table? We live in a trailer park and the tables are all built into the walls. We don’t need a stupid four-legged table. Besides, since we can't take it home, the school would just sell it off to some dumb company like they do with all the other stuff we build.  So we decided to build something cool.”

“So we’re building a rack,” Gap-Tooth finished.

“You’re kidding me, right? A functioning rack?  Do you really think that your teacher is going to let you build something like that in here?”

“Yeah,” the partner said, “because he thinks we’re building something for a movie.”

“Really," Sarah looked at him, "You told him that and he believed you. Like you build this type of thing every day.”

“Yeah,” Gap-Tooth said, “he believed us because we do. We make all sorts of stuff. One time we made this frame where a guy would be strapped inside, except his head came up into this box. The box had this really big vise inside so he couldn’t move. Then the frame would move but his head wouldn’t, so, umm….”

“Craaaackk!” his partner said, twisting his hands, imitating the victim’s broken neck.

Sarah looked at the two of them.  What sort of creepiness has she gotten herself into? “Are you serious? You built something that could kill somebody?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t like that at all,” Gap-Tooth said, holding his hands out, “it was for a movie we were making. It was just supposed to look like it would. We didn’t actually do that with it. We built it so the guy inside could slip out, but in the film it looks really scary.”

“Yeah,” the other one said, “it was pretty cool when we added the sound effects.”

Sarah looked at both of them. She still wasn’t sure if they were telling the truth. “So what movie was this for?” she asked, hoping to recognize the title.

“'Bloodcatchers 3'.  We're in the Video Club and wanted to try something big, so we made something really scary.”

Sarah’s eyes darted from one boy to the other. They stood there, waiting for her to respond. The laughing was gone. They were serious.

“So…”, she started, “if you’re building a rack, where are the shackles and chains? Where’s the spinning thingy?”

“Those come later, after we’ve got the axle put together.”

“The axle?”

“It’s the spinning thingy.”

“We’ve cut the wood already,” Gap-Tooth said, “we just need to put the pieces together, bolt on the struts to hold it to the table, and add the chains.”

“Say,” his partner said, “maybe you can help after all. Get up on the top here and lay down.”

“Why?” Sarah asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

“So we can measure where to put the steel locks that hold the victim.  We don’t want to make them too short.”

It made sense, in a sick sort of way.  Sarah climbed up onto the table, still wearing her goggles, apron, helmet, and headphones.

Gap-Tooth motioned for her to scoot down a little, so she did, causing the apron to ride up a bit but still covering her little kitten.  He then picked up a pencil and motioned for her to spread her legs until her feet were at each corner. Sarah realized that she was about to give him a peep show and reached down, tugging at the apron so that it covered her sex, as she obediently placed her feet at the corners.  Gap-Tooth made two marks on either side of each ankle, then moved around the corner of the table and up towards her head. 

Looking at her, he motioned for her to lift her arms up over her head, towards the other end of the table.

She knew what was coming. 'They're going to get a show eventually anyway," she thought to herself.

She released the hem of the apron and raised her arms. As she did so, the apron straps rode up, causing the hem to be tugged past her hips, exposing her vulva and the little trace of fur residing there.

The partner noticed it first, his eyes firmly locked on her pussy as Gap-Tooth made marks on either side of her wrists.

"Enjoying the view?" Sarah quipped.

"Huh?", the boy said, "Oh. Sorry."

"I'll let it slide.  This time." Sarah said warningly.

"I have something else I need to slide," Gap-Tooth replied.

Sarah quickly grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down onto the table.  With lightning speed she brought her other hand across and punched him in the ear.

"Ow!" he cried out as she released his arm, "What was that for?"

"I warned you, no more disgusting remarks!"

The shop teacher bellowed from across the room, "Is there a problem over there?"

In unison, Sarah and the two boys replied, "No; no problem."

"We're just taking some measurements," Sarah added, waving him away as she laid back down on the unfinished wood surface.

Satisfied with her answer, the teacher went back to what he was doing.

"I didn't mean nuthin' by it," Gap-Tooth said, "I meant I needed to slide the axle supports back because I underestimated the length of the person's arms."

Sarah began to think that maybe she did overreact. "I'm sorry," she said with a tinge of sorrow, "I thought you were ... being disgusting."

Gap-Tooth rubbed at his ear.  The look on his face was pitiful, like a little boy who'd just been spanked.

"Ok, look, I really am sorry," Sarah said, rolling over to face him, "I just thought... you meant... well... I tell you what, I'll owe you a favor. Anything you want, ok?"

Gap-Tooth just shook his head and turned away.

The partner looked at her and whispered, "His dad beats him like that, too, sometimes.  That's why he can't hear so good in one ear anymore."

A look of horror swept over Sarah's face.  What had she done?

Before she could do anything, the partner leaned in and in a low whisper asked gently, "Can I sniff it?... I mean, I've heard that it kinda smells funny."

Sarah looked at him.  He wasn't being mean; just curious. "At least he asked," she thought to herself.  She sighed, then laid back down and spread her legs.

The boy placed his hands on the table and leaned over her pelvis, slowly lowering his nose to her crotch.  He took two quick whiffs, then leaned closer. She could feel his breath on her bare thighs as his nose got closer to her slit.  She closed her eyes and tried to relax.

And then she felt something brush against her pussy that made her flinch, just as he pulled his head back.  "Sorry!" he said holding his hand up defensively as his other wiped at the tip of his nose, "I couldn't smell nuthin' so I got closer and I guess I got too close!"

Just then the teacher announced the 10-minute warning to begin cleaning up the project areas. The two boys got busy gathering their tools and supplies and placing everything back in the bins.  Sarah rolled off the table, went into the office and took off the protective gear, then placed them on the teacher's desk.

"Everything has a place, missy," he said authoritatively.

Suitably chastised, she hung the gear where it belonged.

She walked back out onto the shop area to blend in with the rest of the students.  Except now, she really was completely naked.  Gap-Tooth and his partner stayed well away from her as the rest of the class took the opportunity to study her body somewhat discreetly with the few minutes they had left in the class.

Then the bell rang, and Sarah was off to... a free period?

"Excuse me," she said to the teacher, "I don't have anything scheduled for this period. Could I stay in here?"

"If you want," he replied, "but you'll be the only one in here.  I have to go meet with the Government teacher.  Just don't touch anything that could hurt you."

"Ok," she replied.

After the man left, Sarah went over to Gap-Tooth's table.  He had left the design plans on a corner, pinned down by tacks.  She could see where the two boys had marked their fastening points for the restraints, and where the brace for the axle would be mounted.  She imagined what it would look like when it was finished.  And then she imagined how she would look on it, her glistening body stretched out across the sweat-stained wood, open and helpless.

Her little kitten began to purr.

She picked up the drill and got to work.

***

Her next assignment was PE class, which was a blessing because her skin was covered in sawdust and grime.  A bit of exercise wouldn't make much difference in her current state of stinky, and then she could take a shower.

Instinctively, she entered the girl's locker-room to check in with the teacher.

"Sorry, miss," the female coach said, "but you're supposed to be using the boy's locker-room."

"Oh, right." Sarah replied, then turned and walked across the small courtyard to the entrance of the boy's lockers.  There, she found the boys in various states of undress. There were hoots and whistles again, but most of the boys hurriedly got dressed and ran outside for roll call.  As the room emptied out, she looked around and realized she didn't have any reason to stay inside there, so she followed them out.

The group was gathering in the practice field, a grass-covered area next to the baseball stadium. Just then she heard a referee whistle and the crowd broke into a slow jog ahead of her. She fell in at the back of the pack.

The grass felt good under her feet; soft and forgiving as she listened to the plodding of the herd in front of her.  The sky was clear and the sun was warm, with just a touch of morning coolness in the air.  She was enjoying the unrestricted freedom of movement, though she would've appreciated at least a little support for certain parts of her anatomy.  Still, it was a pleasant day for a run.  She picked up her pace and began passing some of the other students, who picked up their pace in an effort to keep up with her. Soon she was leading a small flock of gasping, red-faced teens, collecting more of them as she made her way towards the front.

"What have we here!" the male coach said to the panting crowd as it slowed in front of him, "Looks like some of you found some inspiration this morning!"

Sarah smiled as the students in the group coughed and gasped.

"Ok, today is the Mile Run,” the coach said. “Girls will go first, followed by the boys. Go ahead and start your stretches. You have 10 minutes."  The coach then walked over to Sarah and pulled her aside. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"It's ok. I like running. I ran Track for four years in school. 200, 400, and the 4x100 and 4x200 meter relays," she replied with a smile, wiping her brow with her wrist, "I don't mind running the mile with the class." 

"Ok, its your decision," he replied, then called out to the female coach, "Coach Faye, can you please get the model some protective gear?"

The model?  Sarah smiled.

Coach Faye soon returned with a couple of bright red tops. "Courtesy of the track team," she said approvingly, "They're last year's singlets, but they're clean.  I brought a couple of different sizes because I wasn't sure if you were a B or a C cup."

"Thanks," Sarah said, slipping a jog bra over her shoulders, "this fits fine."  Looking at the logo on the front, she quipped, "It reminds me of my competitive days."

"You used to race?"

"Yeah, I ran 200, 400, and the relays."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "What school did you run for?"

"Ascension. Four years ago."

The coach looked like she had just been struck by lightning. "I know you!", she exclaimed, "You beat me in the finals!"

Sarah's mouth dropped open.  Any hope she had of anonymity - of keeping her modesty intact while prancing around naked - was now gone.  "Shhh! Please!", she begged, "It's not what it seems..."

"Look,"  Coach Faye replied, holding up her hand and stopping Sarah in mid-sentence, "I don't know what circumstances in life brought you here, or what crime you committed that led to your sentence to a correctional facility, but right now all I care about is running. Ok?"

Sarah nodded. "Thanks, and please don't tell anyone my full name. It's bad enough that I have to go around naked but I really don't want people to know who I am. I'd like to sort of remain generic and faceless for the next few days. Ok?"

Coach Faye smiled. "Deal.  But I want a rematch."

Sarah smiled and nodded.

Coach Faye looked at Sarah's feet. "Now about shoes, I might have something. We have some leftovers from last season."

"I'd rather run barefoot, if that’s alright," Sarah said, "I'd rather have rough soles and dirty feet than blisters from new shoes."

Coach Faye laughed, then pointed out that the girls were about to start their run test.  Sarah trotted over and joined them.

"Wrong group!" someone shouted.  Sarah realized that whomever it was, was right. She'd be running with the boys.

When the boys lined up the girls had finished the first turn and the faster ones were well down the back straightaway heading for Turn Three.  Sarah tried to line up near the back of the pack, but the pack kept moving back with her.  She might have been wearing a top, but she was still bare-assed.  That made her a very attractive view for whomever was behind her, and all of the boys wanted to be behind her. She gave up and stayed put as the pack settled to the rear; now a good ways back from the starting line.

"I guess we have some people that want to overachieve and go the extra mile!" the coach joked, "Ok, on your mark! Get set! Go!"

Sarah launched herself into a brisk run, testing the pack of boys to see who could keep up. Most of them did through the first turn, but then the crowd began to taper off as stragglers fell farther behind.

Suddenly someone was beside her, speaking effortlessly.

"Nice day for a run," he said.

"Yes. Yes it is," Sarah replied between strides.

"You look like you've done this before," the boy said.

"I have. Four Years. Third In. State."

"I figured it was something like that. You move very gracefully."

"Thank you," she answered with a smile.  That was the first time someone had told her that.

"But the question is, are you fast?"

"Fast enough. To beat. You."

The boy laughed at the challenge. "Ok, first one to the finish line wins. Loser gets a spanking."

Sarah thought for a moment. "I can't. Win that bet. I'm not. Allowed. To touch. A student."

The boy glanced at her and said, "Then it sucks to be you," and started sprinting out ahead of her.

Sarah muttered under her breath and started sprinting too, leaving the pack of boys huffing and puffing as they tried to keep up, the firm globes of her ass racing ahead of them.

It took four laps around the track to complete a mile, and the boy had a considerable lead half-way through the second lap.  He was out of Turn Two going into the back straightaway by the time Sarah crossed the Start/Finish line.  The two coaches sat in the bleachers keeping record on their clipboards as the runners clicked off the turns, now forming one long continuous line of puffing red-faced figures.  The boy saw his lead over Sarah and settled into a steady pace, but when Sarah passed beyond his peripheral vision, she picked up her stride.

Coach Faye noticed her change of pace almost immediately.  It was a good track strategy for longer races.  She nudged the male coach and said "She's racing somebody."  He grunted and replied, "Must be the Jenkins kid. He's always trying to show off."

Sarah was mid-way through Turn Two as the boy - Jenkins - exited Turn Three.  As she hit the back straightaway she went into a full sprint.  She had made steady progress and was reeling him in, one step at a time.  He still hadn't seen her, but she could see him, because of the angles they were running.  As he came out of Turn Four going into the front straight, he looked down towards Turn Two, expecting to see her in the menagerie of sloppy runners.  He was almost across the line before he realized she wasn't there.  That could only mean one thing. She was in the turn behind him.

He took a quick glance over his shoulder. Sarah had clicked through the straights in amazing speed, and was through the apex of Turn Three, no longer in a sprint but still matching his pace.  As he kept looking over his shoulder, he drifted off his line and collided with a slower runner.  He stumbled as the other runner fell off into the grass alongside the track.

Now Sarah was exiting Turn Four.

"She's going to catch him!" Coach Faye exclaimed, "She's going to take him!"

"Wow.  Look at her go," the other coach replied.

Sarah heard their exchange. Encouraged by their words, she found another gear in her sprint, using the straightaway as her own personal drag strip, then slowing into a cruise as she whipped through the first two turns again.

She caught Jenkins at the mid-way point on the back stretch.

His head was up, his face reddened with exertion as she came up on him on the outside. She pumped her arms furiously, her hair streaming behind her as she silently drew even with him.  Her bare feet had allowed her to run quietly, only the sound of her breathing giving her presence away.  He turned and looked at her as she began to gain a step on him.

Now they were in Turn Three of the final lap with Sarah on the outside.  For every step he took on the inside, she had take more to make up for the difference in distance.  He had a two-step advantage as they came out of Turn Four.

Now they were in the straightaway with the boy nursing a slight lead.  The two coaches jumped up like they were at a track meet. "C'mon, Sarah!" Coach Faye shouted enthusiastically.

Sarah could see the Finish line.  The boy - Jenkins - saw it, too, and broke into his final kick. Sarah launched herself into her final kick as well.

That's when her legs shut down.

There was nothing left in her.  Her body had given her all it had to give.  It was done.

Jenkins crossed the line 0.78 seconds ahead of her. He had won.  Now he was winding down, his legs absorbing his speed as he came to a halt and stepped off the track.

Sarah coasted fluidly as her momentum carried her past the two coaches watching in the bleachers, the globes of her naked ass trembling as she decelerated.  Coach Faye quickly got up and began to descend from the stands, followed casually by the male coach.

"That was quite a race," Jenkins said, his hands on his hips, "where'd you learn to run like that?"

Sarah's hands were on her knees, her breathing coming in ragged clumps as strands of her hair clung to her sweat-slicked neck and shoulders.  She took a few more gasps and replied, "School. Same as you."

"Mr. Jenkins," Coach Faye said as she approached the pair, "would you please excuse us for a moment?"

The boy grunted and moved off to welcome the other finishers as they crossed the line.  One girl, the next to cross the line, even gave him a quick peck as she exited the track.

"That was impressive," Coach Faye said in a low whisper, "you ran like there was something at stake."

"There was."

"And what would that be...," the coach replied, fishing for information.

Sarah looked at her. She couldn't tell her the truth.  At least not the whole truth. But she could tell one piece of it.

"I wanted to prove that women are just as capable of accomplishing things as men.  We can push hard, too.  When people see a man struggle to finish a race, when he's burned every ounce of energy and is about to collapse but he somehow finds the strength to keep going, they say 'Look, he's really laying it out there. What a hero!' But when a woman does the same thing, when she's pushed herself so hard that she's practically delirious, they say 'Stop the race! It's too hard for her!'  I wanted to prove something, and I thought, what better time than against an arrogant boy in front of an entire class?  They are the future; he is the future. That's the whole point of the Program, isn't it? To show that women are just as capable?  That they can push themselves beyond their limits the same as men, without losing their gender identity?"

Coach Faye looked at the spent runner who now stood gasping in front of her, the sun reflecting  off her glistening skin, a bead of moisture sliding down Sarah's lean belly to collect in the small strip of fur between her thighs.  The coach realized that Sarah was right, that somehow by running nearly-naked and almost beating the fastest male runner in the class, Sarah had proven her strength without sacrificing her femininity.

"Ok, you sold me," she replied, "but I still think you're holding something back."  Coach Faye started to move off at a slow trot, then called back over her shoulder, "And I want that rematch!"

Sarah smiled and began to move, shaking the fatigue out of her legs.

Jenkins came back over. "You should take a cool-down lap," he said, nodding towards the far end of the track, "C'mon."

Sarah sighed and followed him.

As they reached the end of the straight-away, Jenkins turned off and headed behind the bleachers. "Time for me to cash in on our little wager," he said.

Sarah obediently followed him behind the stands. "Do we really have to do this?" she asked, hoping he would change his mind.

"Yeah, we do. I won fair and square.  Here - put your hands on the top of this fence and stick your butt out."

Sarah moaned her displeasure, but did as she was instructed, placing her hands on the top rail of a waist-high chain-link fence.  Suddenly she felt a smack on her upturned rump.

"Ow!" she cried out.

"Shhh!" the boy warned, "you don't want an audience do you?"  He straightened up. "Or do you?" he added wickedly.

"No!" Sarah said, "it's bad enough being spanked on my bare skin without having a crowd standing around watching."  She paused, collected herself, and said resignedly, "Ok. Go ahead."

"Now, get that ass out there, nice and high. That's it."

Smack!

"Ow!" she said in a low whisper.

"Count them out!"

Smack!

Sarah stifled a cry. "Three."

Smack!

"Four!", she spat.

Suddenly a girl's voice called out, "What's going on here?"

Sarah turned in shock. It was the girl Jenkins had kissed at the line.

"Just collecting a bet, Chastity," the boy replied, "she lost and now she has to pay up."

"You'll lose more than just a bet!" the girl said angrily, "I come over and find you with a half-naked whore under the bleachers?!"

"Relax, ok? It's just a spanking.  I wasn't going to do anything. You know you're the love of my life."

"I better be," Chastity replied, as James gave her a kiss and a hug.  She looked at the naked woman resting against the fence, calming slightly as she surveyed the red marks on Sarah's upturned ass. "How many more does she have to go?"

"We hadn't really agreed on a number, so I was just going to go until I got tired."

Sarah turned her head to face the boy as she held her position against the fence. "The hell you were!  Ten is all you get, and we're at four right now."

Chastity looked at the woman, then turned to the boy. "Can I get a few swats in?"

"Sure," the boy said, stepping aside as Chastity moved into position.

Smack!

Sarah winced. "Five!"

Smack!

"Six!” she hissed.

Smack!

"Seven!"

Smack!

Sarah thought her knees were going to buckle as the girl's palm landed forcefully against her reddening skin. "Eight!"

Smack!

Sarah's breath whistled through her teeth. "Nine!"

One more to go.

"You know, whore," Chastity said coyly, pausing her abuse of the helpless woman, "this might be a good opportunity for me to show my dear boyfriend a thing or two about how to please a lady."

Sarah's head whipped around.   Keeping her hands on the fence, Sarah said, "I'm not a whore!"

"Maybe, maybe not, but you'll do," the girl replied.  "Now, spread your legs apart. C'mon. Wider," she said as Sarah's bare feet shuffled against the pavement.  "Pay attention, James. I'm doing this for your benefit."

Suddenly, Sarah felt the girl's hands against her crotch, her fingers wrapping neatly around Sarah's mound of Venus. "Hmm," the girl intoned, "now just relax and this will go so much easier for you."

Sarah remembered that she was supposed to be a demonstration model; a living lesson aid to the students.  She dipped her head between her outstretched arms as Chastity continued to fondle her exposed genitals, Chastity's fingers expertly stroking and massaging Sarah's labial lips. "Hmmm," the girl whispered, "does that feel good, whore?  Hmm? Yes, I'm sure it does." 

Sarah closed her eyes and let herself go.  Soon she could feel the familiar tingling between her legs, her body responding to the girl's caresses.  The fingers were gently stroking and tickling her pussy as her little kitten began to purr.  The purr soon turned into a growl, demanding some attention; the same demanding itch she'd felt in the wood shop when she was studying the rack.  The rack that she hoped to be stretched across, naked and sweating, helpless at the hands of...

"Ah," Chastity murmured encouragingly, "There it is. Give me some juice.  There's a good girl."

Sarah jumped as Chastity slipped a finger between the folds of her sex, tickling her clit, the sensitive cap snug in its little hiding place.

"Now, James," Chastity said, sounding like a schoolteacher giving a lecture, "as you can see, I've brought this little whore into a state of arousal.  The folds of her labia minora, normally hidden behind the labia majora, have become inflamed and are now highly sensitive."  To prove her point Chastity stroked the little flap of tissue, teasing it, causing Sarah to buckle slightly against the fence.  "This means that she's ready to accept her mate.  In this position, she would be entered like an animal, which is what she is; something to be dominated by any swinging dick of the species. Would you care to give her a poke?"

"Chastity, I told you it was nothing," the boy said.

"No?  Then why the bulge in your shorts?"

James looked away.

"Or maybe you'd prefer to take her anally?  Let's see what's hiding behind those little ass cheeks you enjoyed spanking so much."

Chastity viciously grabbed Sarah's twin mounds of muscle and spread them painfully apart, exposing the tiny hole in her valley.  Dipping her index finger into Sarah's well-oiled sex, she began to smear some of Sarah's natural juices around the puckered opening of her anus.  Sarah moaned as the girl continued to stroke her exposed pussy and anus, preparing her for intrusion; the girl's finger pressing demandingly as she worked the oils into the crevices.

"Please," Sarah begged, "please don't do this."

"Quiet, whore," Chastity spat angrily, "Now James, let's see if you know how to take a woman from behind."

"Chastity, I..."

"Do it!" The girl reached out and grabbed at his shorts, yanking them down, exposing his fully erect cock. "I said, do it!"

Obediently, James took a step forward, his shaft throbbing with arousal in the cool air, pointing in the direction of Sarah's upturned ass.

"No! Please!" Sarah said, twisting her hips away, "Don't do this. Not this.  I... I have somebody!  Somebody I love very much.  Please!"

James paused, unsure of what to do, his cock telling him to fuck her while his brain told him not to.

"Do it!" Chastity barked.

Sarah began to cry. "No, please!  I know I'm supposed to let you touch me wherever you want, but please don't do this.  Please.  Not this; like I'm nothing.  I'm not a whore. I'm a person just like you. I'm a human being! Don't take that from me. Don't take my humanity from me!"

James stepped back, realized what he was about to do, and quickly pulled his shorts back up.  Chastity, too, realized what she was about to do; what she was encouraging someone to do to another person.  The two students exchanged looks, their eyes wide with shock. James quickly turned and ran off as Chastity stood motionless, staring at the half-naked woman braced against the fence.  Chastity gasped "Oh, god..."  as Sarah slowly turned and lowered herself down, collapsing, her back resting against the metal links.  Sarah hugged her knees to her chest, her hands covering her face as an involuntary shiver racked her body.

"I'm sorry," Chastity begged, "I'm really sorry. I don't know what came over me. I don't... "  She paused, studying the woman curled against the interlocked strings of metal. "I was just really angry.  I mean, I thought you... and James... Please don't be mad with me.  I'm not like that. That wasn't me. I would never do that...  I promise. I won't ever do that. To you or to anybody."

Sarah sniffed, then looked the girl straight in the eyes. "What you were about to do... that's how people end up in prison."

Chastity felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest.  It was so easy; so easy to lose control. And then... she could've wound up in the system, too. That could've been her bracing herself against the fence while a strange boy got ready to plow her from behind.

"I'm so sorry," Chastity cried, bending over to hug Sarah's head, "I'm so, so sorry. Please don't be angry with me. Please!"

The girl was starting to become hysterical.  "Shhh," Sarah whispered, "It's ok, it's ok. I forgive you, ok? I forgive you."

After awhile, after both of them had cried themselves out, they both got up, sniffling and red-eyed, and began to walk back towards the lockers.  Chastity offered Sarah the hem of her shirt to wipe her eyes. Sarah laughed. "Thanks. That's one of the drawbacks of this assignment. No tissues."

Chastity sniffed then giggled slightly, then said, "So, what's it like? In prison I mean."

"It depends on the crime, I guess. For me, it's not as bad as for some.  I was lucky and got a good placement. The overseer doesn't believe in extreme corporal punishment.  There's still the restraints and whippings for infractions, but if you do as you're told things go smoothly. It's a fair system if you're willing to accept it.  The harder cases get it worse at the other places."

Chastity nodded her understanding. "So, what did you do?  I mean, to be sent...  What...?"

"My crime?  Nothing. I'm completely innocent," Sarah replied with a smile.

Chastity laughed at the old joke.

***

James was waiting outside the entrance to the girl's locker-room as Chastity and Sarah entered the courtyard.  He looked sheepishly at Sarah.  "Hey, I just wanted to say..." he started.

"It's ok, James.  I know."

"Thanks," he said, then shifted his gaze to Chastity. "I have a little problem."

Sarah noticed it first. "I'd say its a big problem."

Then Chastity noticed it.  He was still erect.

James' hands fluttered against his crotch.  "I can't go into the showers like this."

"The cold water might do you good," Sarah replied with a snicker.

James' discomfort was obvious.  He was becoming angry. "Well I can't go into the showers with my clothes on, now can I."

Chastity looked at him sardonically. "Would you like to meet me under the bleachers, Mr. Jenkins?"

"I would, believe me I would, but there's no time. We're gonna be late to our next class and if I get any more demerits, I'm off the team."

Chastity looked at Sarah and shrugged her shoulders. 

"I'll see what I can do," Sarah said, turning to James, "C'mon and stay close."  She grabbed the waistband of James' shorts and tugged him towards the boy's lockers as Chastity turned and went into her's.

Inside, most of the boys were finishing their showers or were already dressed, leaving James and Sarah as the last ones in.  As they entered the main dressing area, Sarah spotted a music system; the digital read-out showing the name of the artist and the song.  Apparently the coach used it to pump up the team for competitions.  She scrolled through the music listing.  Coach was a classic rock man.  Then she found what she was looking for.  Joe Cocker was ready for his air time with "You Can Leave Your Hat On".

"Perfect," Sarah said as she pressed "Play".

The instrumental intro kicked on, the horns blaring their announcement that something special was about to happen.  The music was wired into the room's intercoms, and when combined with the natural sound amplifier of the showers, made the place sound like a concert hall.  "Gotta love the coaches," she said to herself.  She knew the tune well. She had used it often with Thomas, and knew the perfect routine for what she wanted to accomplish.  She smiled just thinking about it.

Sarah began to sway, twisting her hips to the rhythm of the piano as the gravelly voice of the classic singer uttered the first lyrics.  Her feet moved in light, quick steps as she circled the changing area, spinning and drawing in the boys who were half out of their clothes.  Whenever the brass horns belted their accents over the melody, she would snap and turn to one boy after another, moving down the entire row of metal lockers, her hands waving around her target's face and torso without actually touching him.  She spun, reached under the hem of her racing top and lifted it over her head, then tossed it to James.  A shout went up in the locker-room as more boys gathered around the twisting, graceful form that moved from one boy to the other, her hips moving, the trim body lithe and free as she shook her hair out and let it settle back around her face.  Arms outstretched, she swayed gently, the taut muscles of her tummy rippling beneath her skin, moving to the ebb and flow of the music.

James stood riveted to the floor.

Sarah's hips swayed seductively, the lines of muscles in her firm thighs standing out proud and strong, her breasts rising as her hands rolled upward like twin serpents mesmerized by a snake charmer.  So, too, the boys stood mesmerized by the woman who now charmed them.

Sarah smiled as the crowd began to bob to the rhythm. She laughed and became more bold, encouraging the boys to dance and pantomime the words with her.  She bounced and shivered and waved and let herself escape into total freedom.

As the music began to reach its climax, Sarah spun in place, twirling like a ballerina before dropping to a split, bringing her legs in, then lifting her toes up, dancing in mid-air.  As the music faded she extended her legs, spread them wide, and bent forward with her hands out in front towards James.

The song over, she arched her back and lifted her hands towards James, her legs still stretched wide on the floor.  She crooked a finger towards the boy, indicating for him to come closer.  As James shuffled up to her, she raised her hands higher, letting him pick her up as she rubbed her nude body against his barely-clothed one.

James wasn't the only one sporting a woody.

Just as Sarah had planned. 

She nuzzled provocatively against his neck and whispered, "They can't really mock you when they're in the same situation."

He looked around at the other nervous boys who were trying to hide their erections, and smiled.  "You're a clever girl," he said.

***

James showered quickly and got dressed, trying to make it to his next class before the tardiness bell rang.  Sarah dawdled, the warm spray feeling good against her bare shoulders, the water washing away the day's sins.  She leaned her head forward, her hair flowing down in a waterfall as the drops fell away and splattered on the floor.

Then she heard the alarm ring.

She was late to her next assignment.

Shit!

She quickly shut off the faucet, grabbed a towel, and patted the water off her body.  She stumbled clumsily through the room, rubbing the towel vigorously against her hair as she looked around for her assignment sheet.  Someone had tacked it onto the bulletin board so everyone would know where she would be and when, guaranteeing that she would have an audience at her next performance.

And the class was ... Biology.

"Lucky me," Sarah muttered to herself sarcastically, anticipating what the lecture would be about.

She raced quickly out of the room, across the courtyard, and into the school proper.  The classroom was on the second floor and she took the stairs two at a time, her legs heavy and screaming with fatigue from the mile race she had completed.  Her eyes scanned the numbers posted next to the door, counting down when they should've been counting up.

Shit!

She reversed course.

She found the right room, cracked the door open, and peeked inside.

The professor was looking directly at her.  In fact, the whole class was.

Busted.

Red-faced, Sarah slowly entered the room, scanned the cluster of desks for an empty seat, and tried to make herself as small as she possibly could.

"It's no use hiding," the professor said, "Come on up. You're the star attraction today."

She sighed and dropped her head, then went and stood next to the professor.

"Now, class," the professor started, "It's not often we have the opportunity to use a real live model to demonstrate the various parts of the human body, so we're going to skip ahead a bit and cover some new material."  He turned to Sarah and said, "Please, miss, stand up straight, arms down, palms forward, feet shoulder-width apart."

Sarah assumed the pose as she was instructed.

"Thank you," he said, then turned to the class, "Now, as you can see, the human body is generally symmetrical in construction, with a few minor variances.  For example, on the model we have today you can see that both of her breasts are approximately of the same size and shape, with the nipple placed in the same location here and here."

Sarah flinched slightly as the teacher's baton tapped against her breasts, the rod poking at the soft skin, pressing into her dark ovals.

"However, upon closer inspection, we see that the left breast is not truly duplicative.  This is common for all humans and is not a sign of abnormality.  In fact, it is not uncommon for a woman's left breast to be a full cup size smaller than the right breast. Our model is fortunate in that her differences are barely noticeable.  Now, because she's nearly perfect, I'm going to give everyone an opportunity to come up here and examine her breasts, first one and then the other, to get a better understanding of what I'm talking about."

Sarah fought to maintain her pose as one by one, each of the students filed up, examined each of her breasts, and returned to their seats.  Sarah noticed that all of the boys had erections in their pants. One of the boys turned to the professor and said, "Can I touch them?"

"Certainly.  That's why she's here.  Feel free to examine her as much as you'd like, but don't take too much time because I have a lot of material to cover."

The boy smiled and reached a hand out to pat at her tit as Sarah stood frozen, her hands down and open, helpless to cover herself.  He slapped at the soft flesh gently, watching it bounce, the puckering nipple swaying in the air.

"You'll notice," the professor intoned to the boy, "how pliable the breast is.  There's a fair amount of give to it.  This is to protect it against damage from the newborn as it sucks.  Tug on the nipple, there."

The boy did as he was told, pinching the pert nub between his fingers, then pulling at it.  Sarah pursed her lips, trying to keep silent, as the boy played with her sensitive teat.

"The newborn will often be nursing while almost asleep, and thus the female body has adapted to allow for the child's movement."

Finally, the professor told the boy to sit back down.

"Ok, so we've examined the practical aspect of the female breast. We know that its main function is to feed offspring, and it is wonderfully constructed for that function.  But, it has another purpose.  As we've discussed before, humans are highly sexualized animals.  Our penises are disproportionately large for our body size, and our females are the only ones to have enlarged breasts even when they are not with child.  That's because the female breast serves as a secondary sex organ, and is often seen as a sign of fertility.  But, the size of the breast itself does not indicate fertility nor the capacity to feed.  Still, it is taken that way in popular culture.  Miss, please turn to the side."

Sarah did as she was told, turning so that she presented a side profile to the class.

The professor pulled out a cloth measuring tape, similar to what a tailor would use, and knelt on the floor at her feet.  He quickly stretched the tape along the length of her legs and called out a number.  He then measured the length of her arms and called out that number as well. Next, he measured the length of her torso and called out the measurement to the class.  Finally, he measured the height of her breasts, from the bottom curve to midway up her chest.

"Can somebody calculate the ratio of breast height to the length of the body parts we just measured?"

A couple of students gave an answer, settling on one after some discussion.

"That's about average for a healthy young female.  Often, women who fall into that ratio think that they are undersized and will seek out surgical enhancements.  The truth of the matter is that the ratio you just gave is far larger than any other non-pregnant female of any other species.  Who here thinks our model's breasts are too large?"

The class laughed.

Sarah blushed.

"Ok," the professor said with a smile, "So, we know that the female breast is a secondary sex organ.  Now, who here thinks that they can make our model reach sexual arousal just by playing with her breasts?"

Several hands shot into the air.

"Jones, would you care to give it a try?"

A boy with horn-rimmed glasses and chubby cheeks quickly slid from behind his desk and walked up to the front of the room. 

Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. Oh god!

The boy stood in front of her and tentatively reached a hand out towards her naked body. Sarah tried not to make eye contact with him, fighting to remain still, her heart thumping a mile a minute.  She felt his finger against the outside curve of her bosom, a sort of clumsy poking motion, like a shopper testing the firmness of a piece of fruit.  She glanced down to find the boy staring intensely at her soft mounds of flesh, raising his other hand to cup them both in his palms as the dark ovals peeked from between his young fingers.  He squeezed, pushed, and lifted her tits, nearly shoving her off-balance in the process. Sarah felt humiliated. And annoyed.  He continued to cup and roll her flesh until, finally, the teacher stopped him.

"Does she appear to be enjoying your manipulation of her breasts?"

"I don't know. She isn't saying anything."

"Did you check her labia for arousal?  The class will recall that is usually a sure sign of sexual preparedness."

The boy quickly checked between her thighs, like a plumber checking a drain plug.

"I don't see anything," he reported.

The girls in the class tried to stifle their laughter at his obvious inexperience.  Even Sarah managed a smile.

The teacher turned to the rest of the class. "Would someone else like to take Mr. Jones' place?"

Sarah thought she was going to die of embarrassment. How long was the teacher going to keep subjecting her to this?

Just then, not bothering for a name to be called, a lone figure got up from a desk in the back of the room and started walking towards the front, his eyes never leaving the figure of the naked woman on the stage.

He was a smaller boy.  Sarah recognized him. It was the boy that had done the portrait. It was the savant.

"Now, Charlie," the teacher said, "wait your turn."

Sarah turned and said softly, "No.  Let him come."

The boy strode down the aisle, his arms at his sides, walking with a deliberate gait until he was standing directly in front of her.  He looked up at her, at the body of the beautiful woman on display in front of him.  Waiting.

Sarah knew.  She smiled, then drew one leg up behind her and arched her back while balancing with the other.  It hurt like hell to do it, but she knew how to handle the pain. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way. She closed her eyes and exhaled, settling into an inner peace.

The boy drew himself closer and slowly stretched his hand out, as if wanting to touch her but afraid that he might break the magic; wanting to preserve the moment forever.

Sarah stayed motionless, feeling just the slightest of touches as the boy delicately traced a line along the side of her arms, starting with her elbow and moving down the pit of her shoulder and over the curve of her breast, across the lattice of her ribs, along her taut tummy, and stopping at her bare hip.  She opened her eyes slightly and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Standing there, holding a pose as the artist studied her body, Sarah felt incredibly beautiful.

She knew the thoughts that were flowing through his mind; his wonderfully cross-wired mind. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to take him and kiss him and show him her gratitude at his masterpiece, but she knew that if she moved everything would be lost. There was no way to preserve an emotion; only the image.  The same emotion he had tried to capture earlier that day; the image she now saw in her mind. It was his face that lurked in the shadows of her body. It was his eye. The eye; the window to the soul.

She inhaled, then let her breath escape slowly across her lips.  She felt like she was bathed in adoration, like a goddess with her acolyte, and shivered with pleasure.  She didn't try to stop it.  It was perfect. It was love.

Then, her leg could support her no longer and she began to wobble.

The boy froze as she slowly brought her leg down, watching as the goddess transformed herself back into her human form.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

Sarah tilted her head knowingly at him and smiled.  He didn't need to say a word.  She understood everything.  She felt his love, and his frustrations.  She saw the beauty and the tragedy mixed into one; the tragic beauty that was him.

Nobody spoke or moved as Charlie stepped back and returned to his little spot at the back of the room.  Sarah never took her eyes off of him.  She knew she would never be loved like that again. 

The teacher stared at her, at the savant, at the interaction between model and artist. The intellectual, the teacher, was rendered mute; his mouth agape.  He had witnessed something unexpectedly beautiful and powerful and simple. Something that couldn't be covered by a textbook; an exchange of love and respect between two people caught in a moment without a single word ever being said.

The silence in the class was deafening.

And then the bell rang.

The students automatically started collecting their things as the teacher sat frozen at his lectern.  His brain was still comprehending what he had just witnessed.  It wasn't until Sarah touched him on the arm that he snapped out of his vapor lock.  "Are you ok?" she asked gently.

"Yes," he said, coughing and clearing his throat, "I'm uh... just a little... I'm fine. Fine." He called out to the escaping students, "Class, read chapters 6 and 8 for our lecture tomorrow!  There will be a quiz!"

***

The school day was over; the students released from their bonds and into the open world of freedom.  Unfortunately, Sarah was not. She did, however, have about two hours to kill.  And even if there was nobody watching her, she still was not permitted to wear clothing.

With nothing to do and nowhere to go, she went exploring, wandering the recently-vacated halls of the school.  Now, with no fear of being molested, she took her time, memorizing the class numbers and orienting herself with the various locations of the classes she had yet to visit.

That's when she caught a faint whiff of peppers, onions, garlic, and other spices drifting down the hall.  Her stomach growled with hunger. She was starving.  She hadn't eaten all day.  It wasn't like she had brought anything with her. She soon discovered the location of the teacher's lounge, and in that lounge she discovered a refrigerator containing one plastic-wrapped sandwich marked "Bill".  She knew it was wrong to steal someone's food, but it was just a simple sandwich and she was hungry.  "Well, Bill," she said to the bread, "pleased to meet you. My name is Sarah. I think we'll be getting along wonderfully together."

Finding a large bottle of artificial juice, also named "Bill", she poured a bit into a paper cup and prepared to dine on her little banquet.

Just then, the male coach burst into the room, causing Sarah to nearly jump out of her skin.  "Oh, sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to startle you.  I just came for... oh.  I see you've found it already."

Sarah paused in mid-bite, a chunk of bread caught incriminatingly between her jaws.

"Hmm!" she moaned through the bread, then quickly chewed the mass and tucked it against her teeth, trying to keep it from falling out as she covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically, "Please don't report me!  I was hungry and didn't have a card for the machine.  I haven't eaten since dawn this morning.  I promise I'll make it up to you somehow.  I don't..."

"They didn't give you any lunch?" he replied, interrupting her, astonished that the school wouldn't provide a meal for her.

Sarah shook her head as she swallowed the gooey mass of food. "Well, there was a free period in my schedule, but nobody told me anything about a lunch."

"Well, then," Bill replied, "I guess you needed it more than I did. I could miss a few meals anyway."

Sarah smiled. "That's very kind of you," she said graciously.

Bill nodded and turned to leave, then said, "Oh, by the way, that was some great running you did earlier.  I'm sure the Jenkins kid won't forget how he almost got bested by a girl.  I understand you did some racing a few years back."

"Yes. Did Coach Faye tell you?" Sarah asked, fearful that her secret had been outed.

"Just that you had raced against her back in the day. If you're interested, the track team is about to have practice in about twenty minutes.  Feel free to sit in the bleachers and watch.  Maybe you can tell us what we're missing. The season will be starting soon."

Sarah nodded as Bill turned to leave.  The door hadn't even finished closing before she had another bite in her mouth.

***

Sarah found her red elastic top, washed and folded neatly, that the coaches had left on the bleacher seat for her, along with a couple of white athletic towels.  Sarah smiled. They had anticipated her coming to watch; an athlete's addiction.  Sarah placed a folded towel on the aluminum bench and sat down, the soft cloth feeling good against her bare ass.  She propped her feet up on the other towel comfortably and watched as Chastity led the girl's track team through its warm-ups.

Coach Faye saw her and waved.  Then, she sent the team on a slow lap around the stadium before walking up the bleachers to where Sarah sat lounging.

"Thanks for the towels," Sarah said.

"No problem. I figured it'd be more comfortable for you and would still be within the rules," the coach replied. "I also thought you might want to take a few laps, to prepare for our rematch.  Like I said, I'm not here to judge you.  I'm just interested in the running."

Sarah smiled, waited a second, and said, "You said you knew me…” she started, “what exactly do you know about me?”

Coach Faye turned around with a smirk. “I was wondering how long it would be before curiosity got the better of you,” she replied.  “I know that you were a top runner at your school back in the day, that you were part of the district all-academics team when you graduated, and that you keep getting named as one of the sporting world’s biggest busts.”

Sarah paused, taking it in. “So it doesn’t strike you as odd that I’m now in the prison system?”

“It does.  But to judge you for that would mean that I have faith in our system to be fail-safe one hundred percent of the time.”

Sarah leaned forward and opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

Faye, not bothering to look back at her, said, “You were about to say …?.”

Sarah smiled.  She wanted to tell Faye that her hunch was correct, that Sarah wasn’t what she appeared to be.  But, to do so would jeopardize what she had been sent to accomplish.

“Nothing,” she said, “Never mind.”

The two women continued to sit there, one in a track suit and the other naked, watching the afternoon sun sink closer to the horizon as the track team refined its skills.

Sarah thought she was going to explode.  The internal struggle to contain her secret was tearing her apart.  She wanted to stand up and scream “I’m a human being!” but she couldn't. She pursed her lips, her leg twitching with nervous energy.  Surely she could tell Faye at least part of it.

“Ok, I have something I want to tell you.”

“I knew you did. Go ahead,” Faye replied.

“I… uh…,” she stammered, changing her mind.  She needed to confess something, quick. “I stole Coach Bill’s sandwich.”

Faye laughed. “Was it good?”

“Yes it was. I was starving. I hadn’t had anything to eat all day and it was the only thing I could find,” she replied.

Faye grinned. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell him. But I might break a rib trying not to laugh.”

“He already knows. You don’t think he’ll report me, do you?”

The expression on Faye’s face changed into one of concern. “Are you really that afraid? He’s a good man. I don't think he'd report it. But, would it be bad for you if he did?”

“It could be,” Sarah replied. She thought about what would happen if the dean started to investigate a theft. Sarah would be at the top of the list, and then her identity would be revealed. “It could complicate things for me.  I promised to pay him back when I could but he didn’t seem interested.”

“I’ll talk to him then,” Faye said, “I’ll make a lunch for him as restitution. He likes my cooking.”

“I would appreciate that,” Sarah said, “and now I feel like I owe you something for helping me. Ask me a question. Anything. My deepest, darkest secret…”

Faye smiled. “You don’t owe me anything, but you obviously are dying to tell me something.  You just don’t want to feel guilty for saying it.  So, ok, what’s your secret that you’re guarding so tightly?”

Sarah rolled her lips. She couldn’t get out of it now.  “Not here. Tonight. After practice is over.”

Faye looked at her. “You sure are a lot of work.  I just hope you’re worth it.”

“I am,” Sarah replied with a grin.

***

The fading sun brought the chill of the night and Sarah was not clothed.  She waved goodbye to Coach Faye - her new confidant - and went inside the school.

The empty school hallways seemed a little smaller without the sunlight filtering in.  The long, straight halls, lined with small metal lockers, reminded her of what it must feel like to be in a space station; nothing organic except the naked human occupying the metal-lined vessel.  The hum of the HVAC climate-control system added to that feeling; the feeling of being alone and rocketing through a big universe.  She went to the nearest window and looked up at the star-filled sky. Ambient light destroyed most of the fainter stars' glow, but she could still see Orion and a few of the other constellations.  Over there was Jupiter.  Or was it Venus? She didn't know them well enough to tell.  Thomas could. He had a telescope mounted on the widow's walk on the main house and he had started to teach her a few things about celestial navigation; a skill only a few still knew since electronic navigation was so readily available.  She thought it was quirky, but romantic. And it gave her an excuse to admire the stars with the man she loved.

The she heard the bang of a door being opened and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Oh!" she said with surprise as a figure came around the corner.

"La Mere de Dieu!" exclaimed the man wearing the grey custodial shirt, pushing the sanitation cart.

They both just stood there, looking at each other, mouths agape like they were looking at extraterrestrial aliens.

Sarah's space ship had been invaded!

There was a naked woman in the janitor's hallway!

Finally, Sarah snapped out of it. She gulped, trying to calm her heart, and said, "Hi..."

"Salut...." he replied, his eyes still wide and unblinking.

"I'm Sarah. I've been assigned to this school," she said, extending her hand.

The man ignored her attempted handshake, and instead looked at her up and down, scanning her body with his eyes. Sarah became very aware of her nudity and pressed her knees together, turning her hips away from the man. They were alone in the hallway.  If he tried something, she would be on her own.  She suddenly realized the danger which Thomas had hinted.

The man noticed her trepidation and smiled. "No," was all he said as he began to push his cart down the hall.  As he passed her, he started whistling a very beautiful melody, the harmony echoing off the hard walls.  She thought she recognized it. Something very old...

Sarah watched him as he disappeared into a nearby classroom.  It wasn't until the door banged shut that she exhaled.

***

Coach Faye found Sarah in the cafeteria, snacking on a small pack of salad crackers pilfered from the vegetable bar.

"There you are!" she said, "I've been looking for you!  I was afraid you'd run off..."

Sarah turned in her seat, a few wisps of dry crumbs stuck to her lips, and gave the woman an inquisitive look.

"I mean, I know you wouldn't try to escape...," Coach Faye started, "Right, well... I'm here to tell you that you've been released to my custody."

Sarah looked at her, confused. "So.... what does that mean?"

"It means you're going home with me instead being stuck here at the school all night with the security guard. The dean cleared it with Mr. Leighton."

Sarah's eyes got big and she jumped out of the chair and gave Coach Faye a warm hug. "Yay!" Sarah released her grip on the coach, only to grab her by the shoulders and hold her at arms' length. "We're having a sleep-over!"

Faye laughed. "It can be Girls Night Out! Or rather, in!  Here, I brought your things. Go ahead and get dressed."

Sarah accepted the plastic box from the woman and snapped open the lid.  Inside was Sarah's prison uniform, her shoes, and nothing else.

Sarah lifted the tunic and started to put it on.

"Is that what you wear?” Faye asked,  “That little thing?"

"There's a bottom, too." Sarah replied, lifting the length of long, skinny loincloth out of the box.  Quickly, she began to wrap it around her hips.

"You're kidding me, right?"

Sarah looked at her. "What?"

"That's it?  That's all? Those two skimpy little things and a pair of shoes is all you have?"

Sarah dipped her head, a little hurt. She ran her fingertips across the embroidery as if it was a royal crest as she tucked the little flap through the loop around her waist.  She kept her gaze lowered.

Faye caught herself. She realized how she had sounded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be cruel. I know it's not your fault. But I can't have you going across town dressed like that.  C'mon. Let's get you something with a little more coverage."

***

Sarah stood in the middle of Faye's apartment.  There was only one bedroom, but the living area was divided into a small work area with a quaint secretary in one corner and a table and four chairs in the opposite corner as a dining area.  A couch facing a stylish armoire sat between the two areas.  A stack of books sat on a table, shared with a lamp, next to the couch.

It was much smaller than any house Sarah had been in, and definitely a far cry from the main house Thomas had built.  But other than the lack of space and sparse ornamentation, it was clean and warm and comfortable. 

Faye had taken Sarah down to the women's locker-room and given her a few toiletries and a track suit - courtesy of the Stalin High Athletic Department.  "It's not much. Some shampoo, toothbrush, deodorant, tampons. It's what we give the girls for road trips," Faye had explained.

"Thank you," Sarah had said, accepting the small gift.

The drive over had been interesting. Faye hadn’t locked Sarah’s wrists in handcuffs like she was supposed to, and Sarah hadn’t bothered to remind her to do it.  It wasn’t like Sarah would have an opportunity to escape anyway; not in Faye’s car. Faye's car was small, but sporty, and Faye had driven it well.  Where most people had given in to the temptation of automatic transmissions, Faye had opted for the paddle-shift version, flawlessly working her way up and down the gear tree.  Sarah remarked how she should be a racer, and Faye had confessed that she used to be.  "And then I saw a good friend burn to death on the track, and that was that."

Sarah felt awkward.  She had apologized, of course, but Faye had insisted that no apology was necessary.

Now Faye was banging around in the kitchen, pulling down a pan and a plastic bin.  "You can put your things in the bathroom if you like."

Sarah looked around. "Where..."

"Well, there's one in the west wing, but I had it closed off after the ambassador left.  The upstairs one is being remodeled in early Corinthian and won't be ready until the social season," Faye said mockingly, "but the guest bath is on the other side of the armoire. I use it too. It keeps me humble."

Sarah laughed.  She found the door and opened it. A small sink, a toilet, a medicine cabinet, and a vertical bath.  Sarah wondered how Faye managed to scrub her back in the thing.

She set her box under the sink as Faye clinked a fork against a glass in the kitchen. "Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is now being served in the main dining hall."

Sarah re-entered the living area and unzipped her jacket, then set it across the back of the chair. Faye was exiting the kitchen, a plate in each hand, with a smile on her face.  She set the two dishes on the table as Sarah took a seat.  Faye soon returned with a bottle of wine and two regular drinking glasses.

"I'm afraid the house servants absconded with my stemware," Faye said jokingly.

"Yes, we have a tendency to do that," Sarah replied.

Faye stopped cold. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Sarah held up her hand. "Faye, relax. You don't need to walk on eggshells. I'm a guest in your home and I appreciate that. Please, sit down and enjoy your dinner. Let's have fun!"

Faye smiled, then said, "You know, it's not often I have company over." She sighed. "Especially someone like you.  I'm not really sure what the rules are here."

Sarah looked at the woman. "You're doing fine.  And what did you mean by 'someone like me'?"

Faye straightened up and said uncomfortably, "Well, you know... someone... who..."

Sarah raised one eyebrow. "Yes?"

Faye paused.

Sarah tapped the tine of her fork against the plate like a metronome counting out a beat, waiting.

Faye realized Sarah was deliberately making her uncomfortable. "Now you're making fun of me!"

Sarah laughed at being caught. "I’m sorry. Sometimes I can be a little mischievous."

Faye giggled. "I hope you like the food. It's not much, I know, but I try."

Sarah slid a bit on her fork and raised it to her nose.  She sniffed it, placed it in her mouth, chewed it a bit and swallowed, then said. "You made this yourself?  This is delicious! What is it?"

"It's something I invented during my school days, when I was training. I didn't like the pre-fab slop they served in the cafeteria so I made my own.  It's a mix of whole-grain noodles, some light sauce with carrots to absorb the acid so I'm not still tasting it an hour from now, and I mix in some baby spinach, peas, beans, dumplings, and a few other things. I'll add lean meat when I can get it. I make a big batch of it at the start of the week and eat it down over three or four days. I made this yesterday, so it should be at its peak right about now."

Sarah began to realize just how frugal Faye was living.  “Thank you,” she said sincerely.

Faye took a sip of wine, then set it down and said, "Sarah, can I ask you something?"

Sarah looked up from her plate, suddenly aware at how quickly she was eating. She knew proper manners.  She hoped she hadn't offended Faye.

"Sure, go ahead," she replied, ready to accept her punishment for showing such a lack of social grace.

"Do you think I'm attractive?"

Sarah froze. She could hear her heart beating in her ears.

"Um, I don't know what signals you might have been picking up, but I'm in love with a man..."

Faye laughed. "I didn't mean that, silly!  I mean... I just sometimes sit here at night and wonder if... if maybe I'll always be alone."

"And you're asking me if there's something wrong with you?"

"Well, yeah. I look at you and I see a woman who's confident, strong, beautiful..."

"And naked all day..."

Faye grinned and looked down. "Yeah, but still. You have this... something... this quality about you. Like you're someone that's going to do something beautiful some day. Clothed or not, you have this glow about you.  Even when you have nothing, you have... something."

Sarah sat back and wiped at a bit of sauce on her lips.  "Faye, you're a special human being. Let's recap, shall we? First, you're the head girl's PE coach."

"Like that's something. I'm the ONLY girl's PE coach."

"Ok, but you're also the head coach of the girl's track team."

"Again, like that's something. I'm the ONLY..."

Sarah had to change her tack.

"Do you remember how it was when you raced?", Sarah asked.

Faye paused.

"Do you remember," Sarah continued, "how it felt to have the earth move under your feet, and knowing that you were the one moving it?  The wind on your face, your heart beating in your chest?  That feeling of total freedom that comes from feeling... just... alive?"

Faye looked at the woman across the table from her. "I remember... I do remember.  That was one of the happiest times of my life."

"Like anything was possible..."

"Yes... exactly, like anything was possible."

"So when did you lose that feeling?"

Faye looked at Sarah and said, "The night I lost to you."

Sarah sat there, dumbstruck. That wasn't the answer she was expecting.  "You mean, you blame me for how you're living now?"

Faye dropped her fork loudly onto the plate. "What's wrong with how I'm living? You don't like it? Is my place too small for you? Is my food not good enough?  A convict is condemning how I live?"

Sarah stopped. This conversation just took a turn for the worse. "I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was... um..."

Faye glared at her and rose from her seat, her dinner knife clenched tightly in her fist, her body coiled and ready to strike. “I could gut you right now and say you tried to escape...”

Sarah didn't want to fight the woman. She looked around for the nearest exit. They were nine stories up, so a window was out of the question. The only door leading outside was on the other side of Faye.  Sarah was trapped. She could feel her adrenaline starting to kick in. She focused on the knife.

Then, Faye smiled. "How does it feel, Miss Chievous?"

Sarah laughed with relief. "Oh, wow. That was good.  I thought you were about to get at me."

Faye giggled. "Payback is hell.  And don’t act like you weren’t scared. I saw you looking around.  Now clean your plate and we'll settle on the couch and talk more about me."

***

Claude Raines was looking for some transit papers stolen from a German courier.  Peter Lorre was begging Humphrey Bogart to hide him from the Gestapo.  And Faye Culp, the Stalin High Head Girl's PE Coach, was sitting on a couch wearing a thin nightgown and wondering about stuff.

"So what is it like?"

Sarah was curled up next to her on the couch. The near-sleeping woman shifted and pulled the soft blanket closer. The oversized t-shirt Faye had given her was comfortable and warm, but having the blanket made her feel secure.  She didn't answer.  She was about to fall asleep with her head on Faye's arm.

"Sarah, wake up," Faye pressed.

"No," Sarah mumbled groggily.

Faye moved her arm, jostling Sarah's head and eliciting an annoyed grunt from the woman. "Sarah, wake up. I want to talk."

"I don't. Now quit moving."

Faye reached under the blanket and paddled Sarah's bare ass. "Wake up, girl. C'mon...", she said as she continued to slap the sleeping woman's bottom.

Sarah let out an angry growl and rolled over as she reached back with one hand to block the rain of blows. One bleary eye peered up at the PE coach. "What?"

"What's it like in prison?"

Sarah looked at her. "You woke me up to ask me that?"

"Yeah.  Is it as bad as the movies make it out to be?"

"You're the second person today that's asked me that.  Maybe you should add that to the curriculum. I'm sure it'd make a great field trip."

Faye nudged her again. "C'mon. I'm serious. I want to know."

Sarah rubbed her eyes. "The answer is that some have it worse than others.  The more progressive programs aren't so bad, but the maximum joints can be brutal.  Whether that's right or wrong depends on how much hate you carry in your heart."

Faye grunted her acknowledgement. 

Sarah settled back against Faye's arm.

"So do you think I'm attractive?"

Sarah moaned. It was obvious she wasn't going to get any sleep until Faye's issues were resolved.  "You want to know what your problem is?  You aren't living as much as you wish you were. You aren't happy.  People pick up on that.  Even if you aren't saying it, I can see it in the way you carry yourself. You slouch when you walk, like you’re defeated by life."

Faye thought about that.  "Is it that obvious?"

Sarah mumbled groggily again.

Faye paused. "So, what should I do?"

Sarah looked at her. She could see Faye wouldn't let it go. "You want to know what prison is like?  Get up off the couch and take off your nightgown."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now."

Faye grumbled.

Sarah shouted angrily, "I said, get up off the coach and strip before I gouge out your eyes!"

Faye, alarmed, got up off the couch and pulled off her shirt.  Like Sarah, she was naked underneath.

Sarah, reclining comfortably on the couch, studied the woman's body.

Two muscular legs, toned by years of competitive athletics, rose up to support firm hips and a lean tummy.  A thin strip of soft fur rested just above her slit.  Her breasts were small, but Faye had good definition to her pecs and shoulders.  Sarah thought the naked woman standing before her had the closest thing to perfect arms as she'd ever seen.  She'd never noticed them before because the coaches always wore track suits.

"Get on your knees and clasp your hands behind your head, convict," Sarah commanded.

Faye knelt on the carpet and did as she was told, the definition of her biceps standing out in the muted light of the apartment.

Sarah tossed the blanket aside, swung her legs over the edge of the couch, and walked over to the naked woman kneeling before her.  "Back straight!" she barked, stepping behind Faye and grabbing the woman's elbows and pulling them back.

Standing over the naked “prisoner”, Sarah ran her hands through Faye's hair violently, twisting the woman's head as she did so.  She slapped at the woman's face, ordered her to open her mouth, then stuck her fingers inside.  A guttural bark exploded from Faye's throat as Sarah triggered her gag reflex.

"Back straight!" she yelled, forcing Faye to recover her position.

Sarah then knelt down and ran her hands along the sides of the woman's bare torso, pressing at the sides of her breasts before reaching around to cup the soft, warm mounds.  Faye moaned and closed her eyes as Sarah gave the naked woman's tits a firm squeeze. Faye squirmed slightly when Sarah gave each of the naked woman's nipples a slight pinch and a tug.

Sarah then ran her hands along the woman's back, her fingers tracing a delicate line along the ridges of her spine before disappearing between the cleft of Faye's ass.  She could feel Faye's breath growing shallower and quicker as Sarah's hand slid underneath the woman's hips to cup the warmth of her sex; her other hand reaching around from the front to massage the rise of her vulva.  A finger slipped between the compliant woman's labia, causing her to gasp and flinch as Sarah's digit explored Faye's snatch.

Slipping deeper inside the compliant woman, Sarah continued to press against the walls of Faye's pussy, seeking to find her hidden pleasure spot as Faye twitched and tried to stay in place. Sarah could feel the wetness building between Faye's wide-spread thighs as she explored the captive woman's erogenous zones.  She pressed her finger deeper into Faye's tunnel, collecting the juices there and spreading them around Faye's puckered anus.  Suddenly, Sarah plunged a finger into the dark hole, drawing a startled gasp from Faye who twisted and tried to move away from the intruding pressure.

"Straighten up! Back straight!" Sarah barked, wrapping her free arm around Faye's neck as she continued to prod the insides of Faye's bowels.

Faye resumed her position and tried to stay as still as she could as Sarah resumed fondling her twat.  The naked woman closed her eyes, letting herself go to the waves of pleasure emanating from between her hips as Sarah continued to stroke her body and work her towards release.  Faye's skin was beginning to glow with warmth, and Sarah could smell her host's scent as she continued to press and rub the sensitive lining of the woman's vaginal canal.

Both women now were moving in unison, Sarah stroking the inflamed pussy as Faye bucked and struggled to hold her position on the floor.  Sarah was working her like a fine instrument, bringing her right to the edge and then backing off.  Faye was struggling; struggling to keep her pose as Sarah manipulated her body. Finally, satisfied that she'd kept Faye in suspension long enough, Sarah quickened her pace, pushing her over the edge.  Faye gasped and arched her back, and a low shriek escaped from her throat. A ripple flowed across her frame as Sarah drove her into climax.  A shudder, a moan, and then a sigh as Faye's body released its sexual tension.

Sarah, her arm still wrapped around Faye's neck, leaned in towards the captive woman's ear and whispered, "You're so beautiful right now.  So beautiful. Feel your body; feel it.  Your heart beating, your lungs filling with air.  That's life.  That's freedom. That's what you need to hold on to. Never lose that feeling."

Faye looked up at her and smiled, then dropped her arms and slumped against Sarah.  With dreamy eyes she whispered, "Thank you."

Sarah gave her a playful kiss and smiled. "You're welcome.  Now get back on that couch and let me get some sleep or next time I really will gouge out your eyes. I'm a convict that's prone to violence, remember?"

Faye giggled, then, naked, climbed back onto the long furniture as Sarah went around the room turning off the lights.  Ingrid Bergman was remembering Paris as the glow from the tv blinked into blackness.  And then Sarah lay her head on Faye's bare shoulder and soon poor Faye was trapped under a sleeping convict.

***

Sarah woke up to the smell of breakfast.

She tried to focus her eyes. She was alone on the couch, the blanket twisted like a snake writhing between her thighs.  Her nightshirt had bunched up around her ribs, leaving her bare ass exposed to the night air.  Her neck was stiff and her hair was a mess.  She sat up and swung her legs over the edge; her toes curling against the carpet as she stretched her arms upwards and arched her back.  "Hmmmm that smells good," she exclaimed.

"Hope you like eggs," Faye called from the kitchen, "I can't afford them every week, but I figured I'd splurge for you.  How did you sleep?"

"Like a rock. You?"

"Better after I escaped your clutches.  I hope you didn't miss me.  Did you know you kick in your sleep? I think you left bruises on my shins."

Sarah groaned and stretched again.

"About last night," Faye started, "I'm normally not like that."

"Faye," Sarah said, her head tilted, "you were just being curious. It's perfectly normal. And to be honest, that was the first time I'd ever done... that... with another woman.  I'm glad it was you."

Faye looked at her. "Really? Why?"

Sarah stood up and walked over to the counter where Faye was lining up the clean plates for serving. "Because I like you.  You've been so kind to me.  You've fed me, clothed me, provided me with a home.  If giving you a little pleasure makes us even, then I'm happy to oblige. Besides, prison turns everyone into a homosexual."

Faye looked at her. "Really?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed. "You really need to add a prison trip to your curriculum.  The ignorance at your school is amazing."

Faye snorted. "Well, you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to do.  And I apologize for pestering you like I did.  I don't know what came over me."

"Probably the wine," Sarah said with a grin.

Just then, there was a buzz from one of the closets.

"That would be your uniform," Faye said, "I washed it this morning so it would be clean for you."

Faye spooned some food onto a plate and passed it to Sarah. “Here you go,” she said as she walked around the counter and towards the direction of the buzzing machine.  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to drink so I didn't pour anything. I don’t have much but help yourself to whatever you find.” 

Sarah looked at the breakfast Faye had prepared. Diced red potatoes with oregano and onions, pan-seared egg whites, a slice of whole-wheat toast garnished with a curl of carrots and brightly-colored fruit.  Sarah dipped a fork into the potatoes and took a bite.

“This is fantastic!” she said.

“Thanks!” Faye called out, "The fruit is a bit of tangerine I froze at the end of the season; sweet and it gives the plate a bit of color. I hope you like it."

Sarah took another bite, then got up and went into the kitchen to see what she could find to drink. She opened Faye’s refrigerator.  There wasn’t much.  A few eggs, some cheese, a bit of milk, a small pitcher of tea, box wine, and a handful of fruits and vegetables.  The bare necessities.  Not wanting to overstep her boundaries, Sarah closed the refrigerator and instead put some tap water into a glass.

“How long have you been awake?” Sarah asked loudly.

“Long enough to take a shower, get dressed, and do a quick spot of laundry,” Faye replied, “I tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t disturb you.  I know you had a busy day yesterday so I let you sleep a bit longer. Are you really this small?”

Sarah turned around. Faye was holding up the Leighton Acres tunic to her body, trying to gauge how it fit.

Sarah laughed. “It has some elasticity to it, but generally it’s supposed to be form-fitting.  Each tunic is custom-made to the wearer. Normally we have a total of three made, but are only given one at a time. We turn them in at the end of each day and get issued a fresh one every morning.  You can try it on if you think it will fit you.”

Faye set the tunic down on the couch and reached for the hem of her shirt. In a flash she had stripped down to her bra.  She reached for the tunic but Sarah stopped her.

“The bra, too,” Sarah said, “The tunic provides support and besides, it’s not like you really need it.”

Faye shot her a dirty look at the veiled insult, then reached between her breasts and released the clasp of her bra. Her two pale mounds jiggled slightly with the movement of her arms as she slid the bra off, then picked up the tunic and slipped it over her head. Faye tugged at the hem of the tunic, trying to get it to slide down farther.  “This is tight!” she exclaimed.

“I guess you’ve been slacking in your training,” Sarah said with grin, earning another dirty look from Faye, “and besides, you’re taller than I am so your proportions are going to be different.”

Sarah went back to eating her breakfast.

“You said this is the bottom part?  How does it work?”

Sarah, balancing some egg on her fork, turned around to see what Faye was doing. Faye, still wearing the prison tunic, had the loincloth stretched across her hands like a dead snake.

“Take your pants off. I'll have to show you how to wrap it. There’s a trick to it,” she replied.

Sarah shoveled the mix of eggs and potatoes into her mouth as Faye slipped off the track pants, leaving her clad in just the too-tight prison tunic and her thong panties.

Sarah got up from the counter and walked over to where Faye stood awkwardly holding the narrow strip of material.  Dutifully, Sarah took the loincloth from Faye’s hands and knelt behind the standing woman.

Holding one end against Faye’s nearly-naked hip, Sarah began the chant that all inmates are forced to memorize.

“The rabbit runs around the tree twice,” she said, wrapping the fabric around Faye’s hips, just below the crest of her pelvic bone. “Then, doubles back,” she added, making a small loop just above the curve of Faye's twin globes of muscle, “and goes back around the tree once and into her hole.” Sarah slipped the material around her hip, through the loop, then passed it underneath Faye’s hips.  Reaching around to the front, Sarah stretched the cloth between Faye’s legs and pulled it tight against her slit. “Then she goes over the branch,” she said, feeding the end through the wrap around Faye's hips, “and back down to eat her grass.” Sarah ended with a flourish, tapping the embroidered flap against Faye’s pubis.

Faye smiled.  “This is kind of sexy…” she remarked.

“Keep it. My gift to you,” Sarah said, standing up, “those aren’t tailored.  The loincloth will fit one girl as well as the next.”  Sarah patted Faye’s exposed fanny. “I must admit, it does look good on you.” 

“It’s a bit revealing…” Faye started.

“You get used to it. Once you do, you appreciate the freedom of movement and won’t think twice about the exposure.” Sarah then looked around the room and noticed the daylight sneaking brightly through the windows. “What time is it?”

“Oh my gosh!  Time for you to get in the shower! Quick!”

Faye turned around and grabbed Sarah’s nightshirt and started to lift it up. Instinctively, Sarah raised her arms and allowed Faye to strip her.

Standing there naked, Sarah looked at Faye, smiled, then started to lift the tunic up from Faye’s belly. “I’ll need this back,” Sarah said, “for the ride to school.”

“Oh, right.” Faye raised her arms and Sarah lifted the tunic clear of Faye’s body, leaving the woman clad in only the prison loincloth and her thong.  Both women, now topless, stared at each other for a moment. Sarah gave Faye a playful kiss and a spank, then quickly dashed over to the small bathroom, the cheeks of her bare ass bouncing smartly with each tiny hop.

***

Sarah stood in the girl’s locker-room, quickly peeling off the track suit and prison tunic.  The rules of the Program were very specific. Once at school, she was to remain naked at all times unless instructed otherwise.  That she was even in the girl's locker-room cold be seen as a violation of the rules, but this was where Faye had left her, and technically she was still under Faye's supervision until the bell rang to start the school day.

Her heart was still racing from the drive from Faye’s apartment.  The only thing faster than her beating heart was the way Faye drove, expertly guiding the small car around corners and between slower vehicles; making gaps where none existed.  There had been a few moments when Sarah thought she was going to die as the blaring horns of trucks sounded in her ear when Faye ran the occasional red light. Faye had answered by downshifting and mashing the accelerator as far as it would go, causing the car to leap forward and out of the way of oncoming traffic.

Sarah was breathing heavy, her body glowing with exertion by the time she reached the dean’s office.  One advantage to being late was that most of the students were already in class, and she was moving too fast for the few dawdlers to stop her and ask for a request.  She opened the office door and ducked inside.  The cool air felt good against her warm skin.

“There you are,” the dean said, holding a file folder in his hands.  He waved it in her direction, indicating that it was her’s. “We were becoming concerned that you might have tried something while under the care of Coach Faye; something that might require police intervention,” he said threateningly.

Sarah stood by the door, trying to look innocent.

The dean lifted a piece of paper from the file and handed it to her. “Here are your assignments for today.  Classes are starting right now, so you better hurry if you’re going to make it before the tardy bell rings.”

Just then the tardy bell rang.

Shit!

“I guess I’ll have to punish you later for your lack of discipline,” he said, “Now get to class. Miss Harmon is waiting. Dismissed.”  With that he turned and went into his private office.

Sarah looked at the assignment sheet. Her first class was Government and Law.  “This should be a breeze,” she thought to herself, “I have a degree in that!”

***

“Ah! You’re here!”  the woman exclaimed, greeting a harried Sarah with an exaggerated open-arm announcement.

Sarah stood there, not really sure how to react. “I, uh…”

The large, matronly woman was clad in an old-fashioned corseted dress and matching headpiece.  She reminded Sarah of a traditional Bavarian barmaid.  Sarah didn’t know what to make of her.

“Class, our visitor has arrived.  As you know, this convict has been sent here as part of her punishment for violating lawww,” the woman said, her voice drawing out the word ‘law’ in a manner that Sarah knew would become annoying quickly, “so, what do you suppose we should do with her?”

A hand went up. “Slap the cuffs on her!”

Another hand. “Put her in the stocks!”

A third. “Make her serve hard labor!”

"No! Make her eat creamed broccoli!"

The class began to laugh.

The teacher, whom Sarah presumed was Miss Harmon, raised her hand like a judge with a gavel, signaling the class to be quiet.

“Shouldn’t we first find out what crime she’s guilty of committing?” she suggested, turning to Sarah.  “Tell me, you poor soul, what crime has brought you to our fair class this morning?”

Sarah looked around the room, trying to read the faces of the excited group of students.  What had she walked into?  She had to think of something, and quick.  She couldn’t profess innocence. That might make them want to work harder for a confession. The dean had mentioned something in her file about her being prone to violence, so she said the first thing that came to her mind.

“Assault.”

“Assault? So, enjoy a bit of fisticuffs do we? Well, we can’t have someone as dangerous as you running around unfettered, now can we? Master at Arms!  The chains!”

Quickly, a boy seated close to Sarah leapt up with a coil of heavy-looking chain and began to drape it around her arms, wrapping it several times around her wrists before leaving the ends dangling against her hands. As heavy as they looked, they were surprising light. Sarah realized they were simply decorated plastic links.  She could break free if she put her mind to it.

“What else, you poor wretch? What other crime against the King have you committed?”

Sarah decided to play along.  She wasn’t sure what game Miss Harmon was playing, but it seemed harmless enough.

“Oh, the usual. Harlotry… speaking in tongues… general mayhem.”

“Harlotry! Speaking in tongues! Mayhem! We can’t have that!  Where is the Belt of Chastity? Who has it?”

Two girls in the back got up from their desks and giggled to each other as they walked towards Sarah. One of the girls carried in her hands a leather belt connected to a semi-circular piece of thin triangular metal adorned with an oversized lock.  Miss Harmon wrapped her arm around Sarah’s bare shoulders as the girls knelt by the naked woman. One of the girls began to buckle the leather belt around Sarah’s waist as the other, giggling the entire time, pushed the curved metal against Sarah’s exposed mound.  The decorative lock was centered exactly over the top of her slit as the girl tried to squeeze the bottom of the piece between Sarah’s thighs.

“Spread your legs, dear,” the teacher intoned as Sarah shuffled her feet apart.

The girl behind Sarah quickly fastened the metal into a notch on the belt’s buckle that rode against the small of Sarah’s back.  Their work finished, the two girls returned to their seats, smiling the entire way.

“And ‘speaking in tongues’… who has the brank?”

Two more girls stood up, one holding something similar to what had just been fastened around Sarah’s bare hips, but instead of a triangular piece of metal, this one had a long, curved piece that looked like a metallic tongue.  Sarah had seen one before as part of a museum display, but had never seen one actually used.

“Open wide, dear,” the teacher said.

Sarah complied, letting the girl slide the curved tongue depressor into her mouth as the other girl worked to fasten the strips of leather around her head.  Sarah tried to speak but an animalistic baying was all that came out.  She could breathe well enough, but the brank made speaking intelligible words impossible.

“And lastly, ‘general mayhem’.  How should we address ‘general mayhem’, class?”

“Whipping?”

“Branding?”

"Amputation?"

“Burning at the stake?”

“Crucifixion?”

The teacher raised her hand, silencing the suggested punishments.  Without saying a word, she pointed to a set of shackles hanging from the top of an unused display board.  The Master of Arms got up from his seat and took ahold of the chains around Sarah’s arms.  Pulling slightly, he tugged her towards the set of shackles.  She dutifully followed.  He unwrapped the plastic chain from one arm, raised her wrist, and placed it into the metal cuff.  He snapped it shut and locked it with a small pin before repeating the process with her other wrist.

Sarah gave the cuffs a slight tug, testing their hold on her body.  The metal was thin, much like the chastity belt and the brank, but sufficiently strong to hold her if she didn’t tug too hard.

Sarah now stood with her arms up and locked to the corners of the board, her back to the wall, naked but for the chastity belt across her hips and the brank around her head.  A line of drool dripped from the metal depressor in her mouth, collected at the depression at the base of her throat, then dribbled in a line between her bare breasts before racing down the flat expanse of her tummy and disappearing under the harness around her sex.  The former track star Sarah Siobhan, honor roll student and educated at one of the most prestigious universities on the eastern seaboard, now stood as a naked prisoner in a history class; a living reminder of how people used to be punished during a so-called renaissance period.

She was glad “sodomy” wasn’t a crime back then.

She was pretty much ignored for the rest of the class lecture. Not much to the lesson; mostly basic material that traced the evolution of law from Hammurabi to the Roman slave justice system to feudalism to the English common law to the present.  She’d heard it all before.  In fact, she had written a thesis on the subject and had touched on most of the same things as Miss Harmon’s lecture.  Her thesis had been so thorough that it had been turned into a small book by the university's publisher.

That book was sitting on Miss Harmon’s desk.

Sarah’s eyes grew wide with panic.

Her picture was printed on the inside of the cover. 

She shifted nervously, looking for a clock. She realized it was on the same wall to which she was chained. She craned her neck, trying to see its display.  If she could get out of there before Miss Harmon realized who she was…

“Miss Harmon! I think the prisoner is trying to escape!”

Sarah froze.  She was leaning out away from the wall, the chains supporting her weight.  Her movements had not gone unnoticed.

“Obviously she needs constant supervision. Guards!”

Two boys stood up, each holding a wooden staff.

“Stand by the prisoner and make sure she doesn’t try any foolishness.  Careful now, she’s a wily one.”

Dutifully, the two boys took their place on either side of the naked prisoner, then crossed their spears in front of her bare chest as fresh drool oozed down her body.  One of them let the back of his hand brush against her soft nipple, causing her to shrink back against the wall.  He looked at her and flashed an evil grin.  Again his hand brushed against her nipple. Sarah tried to bring her elbow closer to cover her breasts, but with her arms tugged upward she was helpless to prevent the boy from sneaking a feel.  She flashed him a dirty look as he continued to tease her nipple with the back of his hand, the oval of sensitive skin puckering in response to his touch, the pert nub becoming erect.

The other guard saw what was going on and decided to join in the game.  Now Sarah had two boys tormenting her tits with their hands, and there was nothing she could about it. She winced with each brush of a hand against her body, her nipples becoming firm and proud as they were teased by the boys. Sarah could only shift uneasily as the boys took liberties with her body.  She began to feel the first tingling of arousal between her thighs; a warmth that threatened to become a full-blown inferno as the boys continued to rub her tits.  Her labia minora was demanding some attention under the triangle of metal across her crotch, the tiny head of her clit becoming alert in its hiding place under the metal keyhole.  She was thankful the chastity belt was there to keep her arousal a secret.

“... and with that decision, the courts brought us to the system we have now.  Ok, that’s enough for today,” Miss Harmon said, concluding her lecture, “Let’s have everyone make a pass by the prisoner so you can get a good look at the instruments we've used on her, starting with Row One.”

Soon a small crowd had formed around Sarah’s nude body, studying the way the brank and the chastity belt had fit on her.  Sarah noticed that every boy that came by had a bulge in his pants.  A few of the girls touched the chastity belt covering her sex, their delicate fingers tickling her skin as they traced a line where the leather strap rode along her hip.  Sarah twisted away from their gentle touches, but it was no use. The curious fingers simply followed her retreat.

The next row was called as the first group returned to their seats. They were a bit more bold; tapping on the metal crotch-piece with their fingers and checking the buckle against her back.  A few even touched her breasts as her arms were helplessly shackled above her head, leaving her open and vulnerable.  Each successive row of students became more inquisitive and daring, pinching and twisting her nipples as she stood chained against the wall, fingers dancing across her hips, squeezing her ass.

She thought she was going to explode with an orgasm right there.

“Ok, she’s had enough. Master of Arms, you may release the prisoner. Jailers, remove the instruments of discipline.”

Soon busy hands were pressing spring-loaded catches and unbuckling leather straps.  It didn’t take long for the students to retrieve the home-made props, leaving her standing totally naked in front of the class. She quickly pressed her legs together, hiding the signs of her arousal as she nonchalantly let one hand rest by across her hips as the other wiped at her mouth.  A line of spit glistened against her body from her chin to her cleft; her drool mixing with her own natural lubricant. 

Just then, the bell rang and there was a mad dash as students grabbed their books and raced to their next class.

Miss Harmon gave her a knowing smile and handed Sarah a handful of tissues from her desk. “Here you go. You can wipe yourself with this.”

Sarah nodded, accepting the proffered tissues and wiping the spit from her body. “Thank you.”

“I hope that wasn’t too rough for you.”

Sarah smiled politely, not wanted to confess the truth. “No, it was fine. I just wasn’t sure what was going on at first.”

Miss Harmon extended her hand. “My apologies.  I hope I didn't scare you too much with my theatrics. I'm a bit of a fan of Renaissance Fairs.  Angela Harmon.  It’s a pleasure to meet a colleague.”

Sarah looked at her cordially and accepted her handshake.

“Nice to meet you, too.  I’m Sarah.”

“I know. I read your book.”

Sarah felt like she’d been struck by lightning.  Miss Harmon had known all along. “You knew?”

“Yep,” she replied, leaning in closer to Sarah, “I knew who you were as soon as you stepped out of the van yesterday. The dean would only let classes with a proven reason for having a nude model in a presentation participate in your tour, so I submitted a lesson plan with you as the featured display.  He has no clue who you are, and I have no intention of telling him. I struck a deal with Henry – the Wood Shop teacher - and had the class make the props in his shop yesterday, using pictures we found.  Henry didn’t want you in his class, but I needed someone to swap schedules with me and I trusted him to just occupy time without trying any funny business.  Cost me your first day's visit to do it, but I think it was worth it. You got to meet Henry and I still got to meet you, and by now you've probably got some good data from yesterday’s tour.  I don’t know what sort of research you’re doing here because you're certainly no convict, but trust me, your secret is safe with me. However, I would like to have a look at your findings before you publish them.”  Miss Harmon then reached over to her desk and grabbed Sarah’s book. “And your autograph.  It’s not every day that I have an author in my class.”

“An autograph I can certainly do,” Sarah said, scribbling in the frontispiece of the book, “but my findings belong to the state. Sorry.”

Miss Harmon crossed her arms. “Then maybe tomorrow we’ll have to give you a more thorough working-over to extract your secrets,” she replied with a dramatic glare. 

Sarah laughed and handed the book back to the woman.  She’d written “To Angela Harmon; Thank you for the lesson on what happens to women accused of assault, harlotry, and mayhem.  May God have mercy on our souls!  -- Sarah Siobhan.”

***

Sarah’s second period assignment was the same as yesterday – Wood Shop.  She quickly retrieved the protective equipment from Henry’s office and put it on before joining Gap Tooth and Barney (as she had learned his name to be) at the rack.

The two boys stood looking at their pet project. Barney looked at her. “Did you do this?”

Sarah nodded her head. “Did I do it right?  I didn’t mess it up, did I?”

“No,” Gap Tooth replied, “you did it right.  It’s just…. Wow.”

“Yeah,” Barney said, “wow.”

Sarah studied the faces of the two boys, unsure of how to respond. “Is that good?”

“Oh yeah, it’s very good,” Gap Tooth said, “you’ve just about got it done.”

Sarah looked at them with a questioning glance. “What’s left to do?  I bolted everything together.  Tied the ropes, installed the awl on the axle.  It’s fully functional.”

“Yeah, like I said, you did a good job. But you didn’t age it.”

“It’s supposed to be old," Barney explained, "The wood looks too new.  We’ll have to stain it and burn it a little to give it the right appearance.”

Gap Tooth turned to Sarah. “Hop up there so we can get some markings. Please?”

Sarah, clad in the shop apron, work gloves, and safety glasses, noted the boys’ change in demeanor. They were more interested in their machine than they were in her.  She briefly marveled at the workings of the male mind.

She climbed up onto the table and lay on her back, spreading her legs so that her ankles rested inside the open halves of the manacles.  Barney picked up a small glass jar of dark brown liquid and a small paint brush and drew the outline of a puddle on the wood from the top of her hips down to her knees.  Dipping the brush into the jar, he began to fill in the puddle he had just created.  “Motor oil”, he explained, “looks like old blood when it dries on stuff.”

Gap Tooth fiddled with something on the other side of the axle, out of her field of view and well out of her striking range.  “You know,” he said, “maybe we should take it for a test ride.  While we have a volunteer.”

Barney paused, looking at Sarah for her response.

Sarah looked at them.  They wouldn't try anything with a teacher in the room.  “Ok,” she said, “but not too tight.”

“Just say the word and we’ll let you go.”

“Ok.”

Barney set the jar down on the workbench behind him and closed the manacles over her ankles, locking them down with a simple wooden dowel rod as Gap Tooth slipped the loops of knotted rope around her wrists.  Sarah shifted nervously on the dusty wooden table.

“Ready?” Gap Tooth asked.

“Yeah, ready,” Sarah replied.

Gap Tooth began to spin the windlass, the axle taking in the slack of the rope.  Sarah’s arms were pulled up as the rope was wound around the wide drum.  He stopped as soon as he felt the resistance of her body against the windlass, the awl setting into a groove in the wheel, preventing the wheel from spinning backwards.

“Ok,” he said, “now pull as hard as you can.”

Sarah pulled against the rope around her wrists, trying to unwind the drum.  She grunted and her face twisted with her effort as the muscles of her arms and tummy flexed under her skin.  It was useless. She wasn’t going anywhere.  “I give up,” she said.

Barney stood next to her, his hand resting on the flat wooden table.  “You know, bound like that, you’re kind of hot.”

Sarah looked at him. “Don’t even think about touching me.”

Barney leaned down.  “Aw, I wasn’t gonna do nuthin’.  But, um, can I get a little whiff?” he whispered.

“Again?”  Sarah closed her eyes and sighed.  He had a one-track mind.  “I can’t stop you. Go ahead.”

Barney slid down toward her pelvis and lowered his face over her crotch.  She felt his breath against her slit as he lowered his nose to her nether regions.  Her legs twitched nervously as he lingered over her sex, his nose mere inches from her muff. She knew he would probably catch the scent of her blossoming arousal, the pink tissue of her labia spread open like a flower under the shop apron.

“I think I smell something,” he finally said.

“Is it fish?” Gap Tooth asked jokingly.

“Nah, it’s hard to tell. I can’t hardly seem to separate it all out, between the wood and the oil and her. It’s all mixed together.”

Sarah sighed. “Are you about done then?  Can you let me go now or are we going to sit here and debate olfactory separation of female gynecological tissue all day?”

“Huh?” Barney said.

“Let me up,” Sarah replied, tugging at the ropes around her wrists, “you said you’d let me go when I said I was ready, and I’m ready.”

“Oh, ok,” Barney said, moving down towards the end of the table where her ankles were still gripped by the manacles.

Sarah felt the tension go from her arms as Gap Tooth spun the axle back.  He then loosened the knots around her hands. “A bit red, but it don’t look too bad,” he said.

Sarah looked at her hands. He was right. There was some redness where the rope had chafed her wrists, but otherwise she was fine.

Sarah sat up and swung her legs over the side of the table, then slid off, being careful not to scrape her bare ass on the wood. “Watch for splinters!” Gap Tooth joked.  He opened his mouth to follow up with another joke, but the look on Sarah’s face made him change his mind.

***

Sarah spent her free period in the Teacher’s Lounge, nibbling on one of Coach Bill’s sandwiches.  This time, he had told her, he brought a spare just for her and had even put her name on it.  It was a good sandwich, and he was thoughtful in providing it for her, but she didn’t want to eat much because she knew – or at least hoped – to go running during her PE assignment that was coming up. 

The teachers, for the most part, had left her alone.  Coaches Bill and Faye, Miss Harmon, and the art teacher had been nice enough, and a few others had come up and introduced themselves in passing, but generally the faculty only acknowledged her existence in class, when they had a use for her.

She was sitting by the window, quietly flipping through a sports uniform catalogue, when Faye found her. 

"Package for you," she said, "I think it might be your clothes and a few other things."

Sarah clapped her hands with excitement.  She was like a kid at Christmas, sliding the latches on the reusable postal box and tearing the inner security package open.

Inside were smaller packages, marked with the distinctive "LA" crest. Sarah clutched the box to her chest. "Faye, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What?"

"Can you hold this for me until the end of the day?  Someplace safe where it won't get lost or stolen?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"A surprise."

Faye scowled at her.

"It's ok, I promise. It's nothing bad," Sarah said, trying to put Faye at ease, "Just trust me, ok?"

"Ok," Faye mumbled, suspicious of what Sarah might be planning.

***

Sarah arrived at PE ready to run.  Unfortunately, a weather system was pushing through and outdoor activities were cancelled.  Instead, the class was given the choice of the pool or the gym.  Those who chose the gym would play a variation of indoor football.  Those who chose the pool would swim laps.

Most of the class chose the gym.  Sarah chose the pool.

She had learned to swim at an early age; before she had developed her interest in track.  She had enjoyed the way she could float and kick and twist and turn effortlessly.  She would swim down to the bottom of the pool and do cartwheels, blowing bubbles to keep the water out of her nose.  Now, without the drag caused by clothing, she had found a new joy in the pool, gliding across the surface, letting her hips turn with each stroke as her hands silently drove into clean, clear water ahead of her.  She liked the way the water felt as it curled around her naked body. It felt natural to her.

Suddenly the lane exploded with the sound of several bodies hitting the water simultaneously.

Sarah stopped and stuck her head above the waterline.

Several rubber-clad heads bobbed up like weasels with giant silver eyes around her.

“Hi!” one of them said.  A boy’s voice. “We understand you’re here on an assignment?”

“That’s right,” Sarah replied cautiously.

“And you have to stay naked the whole time?” another one asked from behind her.

Sarah spun to address him. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“And you have to do whatever we tell you to do?”

“No,” Sarah turned again, replying to the third boy, “it has to be reasonable.”

The group of boys looked at each other. Apparently they were under a different impression.

“Would it be reasonable for us to tie you up?”

“No,” Sarah said quickly.

“Why not?” the first one asked.

“Because I don’t want you to.”  Sarah turned, looking at each boy as he spoke.  They were circling her like sharks.

“We want to tie you up.”

“No,” Sarah said sharply, becoming uncomfortable with the situation.

“You’re a convict. You should be used to being tied up.”

“Yeah, I hear prisoners are kept in shackles all day.”

Sarah began to move closer to the side of the pool as the circle of boys drew nearer.  “I don’t want…” she started to say.

“Don’t be afraid,” the boy closest to her said, his hand resting on Sarah’s arm, “we won’t hurt you. We just want to play a bit.”

“Yeah,” another said, “it’s just for fun.”

Sarah put her hand on the wall, preparing to get out of the pool.

One of the boys beat her to it, leaping out of the water and onto the deck in one swift motion.  He stood over her, water dripping off his muscular shoulders, extending a hand to help her up.  She ignored the offer and, placing both hands on the deck, lifted her naked body onto the rough surface.

Another chiseled boy exploded out of the pool and ran to the gear locker, grabbed a handful of towels from the stack, and raced back.  He unfurled one towel and draped it over her shoulders, then presented a second one to her in case she wanted it.

Sarah accepted the offered towel with trepidation. “What, exactly, do you want?” she asked.

“Well, we were hoping we could tie you up and see how hot we could get you.”

Sarah paused. “You want to what?”

Another boy spoke up. “We want to see how hot we can get you.  And…” he looked around the group for confirmation, “we were hoping you could tell us what gives you the most pleasure and what doesn’t.”

“Right,” the first one said, “we want to be better with girls, and we figured the only way to do that would be to have a few practice runs with someone who could give us honest feedback.”

Sarah cocked her head, “So, let me see if I understand this correctly. You propose to tie me up, fondle me clumsily, make me cum, and then have me debrief you on the experience?”

“Right.”

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Exactly.  That’s why we’re coming to you.  No other girl would possibly agree to that. We heard you had to do whatever you were told to do, and we figured this was a perfect opportunity.  Plus, you have no emotional tie to us, so we figure you’re less likely to tell a lie just to make us feel good. The reason we want to tie you up is to make sure you don’t do any self-stimulation.  We want it to be just us, and us alone.”

Sarah thought about that for a second.  In a twisted way, it made sense.  And if it made any sort of sense, then, logically, it was reasonable. And if she refused a reasonable request, there would be trouble.

“Alright,” she said, raising a finger, “but on one condition. You keep your dongs in your shorts.”

The boys looked at each other, nodding their consent.

“Also,” she added, “you have to let me go when I say I’m done.”

“Of course,” one said.

Sarah surveyed the group. “Ok, so where do you want to do this?”

“The low diving board,” the leader replied, “we can use the lane marker rope to restrain you.”

***

Sarah lay on the diving board, suspended above the water, her feet towards the far end of the pool.  Beneath her, a group of boys slowly tread water, holding their position.  A towel had been placed across the rough surface of the board and her hands rested comfortably by her sides. Loops of nylon rope encircled her wrists and ankles, holding her fast to the platform.  She felt like she was floating in mid-air.

She heard a splash as the first boy exploded out of the water and grasped the edge of the diving board, causing her body to bob gently from the contact.  Then, the touch of a finger on her arm, drawing a line across her shoulder and along the curve of her breast, circling the soft mound once before spiraling slowly inward towards the dark cap of her areola.

The finger pressed softly against the pliant skin, her nipple beginning to respond to the loving caress as it drew up into a hard nub.  A gentle pinch.  A tug. Then the finger departed and she heard the water's rippling of someone moving beneath her. Another low splash and a finger began to trace the other side of her body, starting at her shoulder and working its way across her soft mound, the nipple puckering in response to the stimulus. A few drops of water trickled down the curve of her tit, then raced down the side of her torso, tickling her ribs as it settled into the fabric of the towel beneath her.

Another hand was cupping her breast, squeezing it gently. A splash and that hand was joined by another; both of her tits being squeezed and fondled and caressed and massaged tenderly.  She moaned with pleasure and smiled.

Now she was bobbing again, the board wavering in the air as more hands grasped the sides. An army of fingers began to dance up her legs, her muscles quivering from the sensation of a thousand tiny strokes against her skin. She squealed as they drew closer to her hips, curling inward between her legs to explore the tender flesh of her thighs.

She could feel the familiar warmth in her hips, and she knew her labia was blossoming in response to the touch of a dozen hands against her body.

She felt a trail of drops across her hips, the cool water gathering in the depressions of her belly, forming a clear oasis of liquid in her navel.  A hand gently pressed against her pubic mound, massaging the curve of her sex, the finger pressing tenderly against the aroused head of her clit. She curled her hips upwards, trying to draw the finger into her slit, but the hand pressed her back down onto the board.

A tickling around the entrance to her pussy.  Cool water dripping against her warm skin.  Her guardian was being soothed by the water over which she was bound.  More fingers exploring her vulva, stroking the sensitive skin, drawing another moan from the naked woman as she lay helplessly tied to the board.  Strong hands continued to press against her breasts, massaging the soft tissue as others explored the entrance to her sex.  She was waiting – wanting – for the pleasurable touch of a finger inside her.

She moaned again, pleading.

Obeying her cry, a finger slid inside the moist opening, probing her tunnel and drawing a sharp gasp from her.  She pulled at the ropes around her wrists, wanting to grab the pleasuring hand and drive it deeper into her body. But the finger didn’t obey.  It continued to tease the opening of her hole, exploring the folds of well-lubricated skin.

She jumped when the finger found her swollen clit, the tiny head demanding attention. The finger pressed again, tracing the bulb’s circumference, rubbing it gently as Sarah moaned and flexed and twisted against the board.  She tried to bend her knees, trying to open her legs wider to bring the pleasure-giving visitor deeper inside her.

She heard a splash and a second set of hands began pressing against her hips, massaging her mound even as the loving fingers continued to probe her moist sex.  Her whole body was tingling with pleasure, the waves coming in bursts as hands squeezed her breasts and massaged her mound of Venus. Her breathing quickened and she gasped and twitched and flinched as she lay naked and bound to the board, open and exposed and vulnerable to the touch of the boys swimming in the water beneath her.

She cried out as a finger pressed against her wall, finding her secret spot, and began to rub.  She felt like she was about to explode in orgasmic energy.  She’d been on edge all day.  The hand stroked her twat in short, quick bursts, then slowed to a gentle crawl, then raced back up to speed.  She moaned, begging the finger to continue.  She moaned again.

And then came the glorious release she'd been needing. Her whole body tensed as her muscles contracted simultaneously, the cords dancing beneath her skin, the loving hands pressing her down against the board as she threw her head back and let out a cry of pleasure.  A hand found her mouth, covering it, suppressing her squeal as her body climaxed. 

She kept her body in suspension, her back arched over the water even as the hands tried to press her back down.  She wanted to hold onto that feeling, that glorious moment of total and complete explosion when all she felt was pleasure.  She moaned again, then softly settled back onto the towel as the hands slowly released their grip on her body.

She lay there, spent, as the ropes were untied from around her wrists and ankles.  She heard the sound of the swimmers moving away, and she lifted her arm to wipe at the tears in her eyes.

Just then, the bell rang, causing a rush as bodies exited the pool.  Sarah, too, responded to the urgency in the tone, rolling off of the board and into the water.  The cool liquid cleansed and reinvigorated her body.  A few graceful strokes and she was at the ladder.  She climbed out, grabbed a dry towel, and patted at the clear drops clinging to her bare skin.  She turned and started heading towards the exit.

Faye was waiting for her.

“I see you found our water polo team,” she said with a smirk.

Sarah curled her lip, her clean, white teeth trapping the skin in the corner of her mouth. “They found me first,” she replied salaciously.

***

Sarah sat in the hard wooden chair, facing the dean.  He was sitting in his overstuffed leather chair looking at her.  He wasn’t happy. She didn’t care.

“I understand you engaged in some extracurricular activities with some members of our water polo team,” he started.

“It was within the rules of the Program,” she replied.

“Statutory rape is not within the rules of the Program!” he bellowed.

“I did not have sex with those boys.  They had sex with me. There’s a difference,” she replied, “you said so yourself when I first came here.  You said I could not touch a student, and I didn’t.  They were the ones doing all of the touching.  I was just an innocent victim.” 

The dean tapped his finger on the desk in contemplation.

“Besides,” she added, “I was tied up. I couldn’t touch them even if I wanted to.”

“There’s also a matter of theft from the cafeteria…”

“The school owed me a meal per the contract.  I did not get that meal.  You can deduct the cost of the crackers from the price of the hot lunch.  I'm feeling generous so I'll let you keep the refund you owe me.”

The dean looked up from her file, the papers spread before him. “And you were tardy this morning.”

“Students are permitted two unexcused tardy reports,” she replied, “and according to the Program rules, the same applies to me.”

The dean looked at her, then down at her file.  He’d read it a dozen times. Her psych report had said she was intelligent.  It had also said she was prone to violence when provoked.  He tapped his fingers on the desk again. “You were late to Biology yesterday and late to Government today. Consider your grace period over.”

Sarah nodded, then swept her hair away from her face.  Her arms rested comfortably on the chair. Her legs were crossed, her extended foot rolling lazily.  "Are we done here?"

The dean looked at her sternly.  “No. No we are most certainly not.  Students who violate the Code of Conduct are assigned to after-school projects as part of their punishment.  You've managed to argue your way out of any serious violations so far, but as a precautionary measure I’m assigning you to the track team for the remainder of your stay here, at the request of the coaches.  Don’t make me regret *my* generosity,” the dean warned.

“Thank you, sir.” Sarah got up, nodded politely to the dean, and turned towards the door.

***

Faye was waiting in the hall.

“Well?” she asked, after Sarah had closed the office door.

“I dodged a bullet,” she replied.  Sarah exhaled, letting the stress leave her body. “And thanks for asking for me to be assigned to the track team.”

“Actually, that was Bill’s idea.  He thinks you’re good motivation for Jenkins, and Chastity has upped her intensity as well.”

Sarah smiled. “I guess I started a rivalry.”

“Practice in twenty minutes. Think you’ll be ready for a run? The weather is clearing but it’ll be a bit muddy. Actually, a lot muddy. We’ve given our sprinters and track runners the day off, but the cross-country team will be running on the practice field.”

“Sure,” Sarah replied, “I need to blow off some steam.”

“Great! You can be the hare.”

“The what?”

“The hare.  It’s a training routine we do; like dogs chasing a rabbit.  We take a runner and make her the hare. She gets a two-minute head start and then the rest of the team has to catch her.”

“Sounds like fun. Count me in.”

Faye smiled at her. “I already had.”

***

Sarah stood at the entrance to the practice field, naked but for the familiar red top emblazoned with the “Stalin High Stallions” logo, studying the layout of the field as Faye explained the course.

“You’ll get a thirty-second head start…” she began.

“Thirty seconds?  I thought you said I’d have two minutes!”

“I have faith in your abilities,” Faye replied with a wink.

Sarah cocked her hips petulantly and folded her arms, displeased with this new development.

Faye pointed out the course. “So, you start here and run along the perimeter of the fence, along the back of the softball field, turn right at the batting cages and go over the clay dunes, then over the canal. Keep going straight to the gate back here. Got it?”

“Got it. Just one lap?”

“No, four.  That makes it just a little longer than the certified 5k course.  Think you can handle it?”

Sarah blew across her lips. “I could with a two minute head start.”

“You nearly beat Jenkins in the mile, remember?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t know I was catching him!  I had the element of surprise in my favor.”

“Quit your crying.  I’ve seen you run.  I know what you can do.  You get thirty seconds.”

Sarah was about to protest some more when a group of girls, dressed in various forms of running apparel, approached her. Chastity was among them.

“Hi, Sarah,” Chastity said politely. “Coach, would it be ok if we ran, too? I know this is supposed to be cross-country but we wanted to get a run in today to keep our mileage up.”

Faye exchanged a knowing look with Sarah.  “Sure,” she replied, “Sarah will be our hare today.”

“Oh,” Chastity replied, feigning surprise, “I was not aware…”

More girls were approaching now, chatting and giggling and making small talk amongst themselves.  A few were finishing up their stretches before beginning practice.

“Ok, girls,” Faye said, bringing the group to silence. “Some of you have already met Sarah, on assignment from Leighton Acres this week, in some of your classes. Sarah has graciously volunteered to be our hare today.  She’s a talented runner and I’m sure you’ll be hard-pressed to catch her. Right, Chastity?”

Chastity stood with her arms crossed, her eyes focused on Sarah. “Maybe for the slackers.  She’s not that fast.”

Sarah straightened up and moved closer to the girl, returning her gaze. “I’m fast enough.”

“Care to back that up?”

“What do you propose?” Sarah replied, standing in Chastity’s face.

“Loser gets one swat from every girl that beats her.”

“You’re on. I’m looking forward to beating your ass.”

“Bring it.”

"I plan to."

Faye stepped forward and slid her hands between the two girls, separating them as the rest of the group cheered and howled.  “Ok, that’s enough you two. Save it for the run.”

Faye surveyed the group as it shifted with nervous energy. They were ready.  She raised her watch and prepared to trigger the timer. “Ready, Sarah... and…. Go!”

Sarah took off at a dead sprint, trying to build some distance between her and the starting line before the pack could leave.  Strategically, the point was moot at best – in a distance race there’s plenty of time to catch up – but the psychological effect of seeing a competitor so far out in front was immeasurable.

She had almost reached the first corner when she heard Faye blow the whistle signaling the rest of the girls to start their run.  As she came out of the turn, she looked over her shoulder at the pack, still mostly clumped together, with Chastity and a few other girls at the front. Sarah settled into her cruising pace on the flat terrain, passing through the gate to the softball field and running along the warning track bordering the wall.  She slowed to make the turn at the batting cages, then prepared herself to face the uphill climb over the towering clay dunes; stacks of slick red clay used for maintaining the infield surface and the warning track.

Sarah clambered up the face of the dune, her toes digging into the thick red substance as she dropped her hands to the ground for balance, clawing her way to the top. As she reached the crest, she jumped, swinging her legs over like a high-jumper.  That was when she saw the water-filled crater.

She landed with a splash on her ass in the knee-deep trough.  The top of the dune wasn’t flat like she had assumed. Instead, there was a giant hole, formed when the field crew had shoveled clay for the track. That hole had filled with water from the day’s rain.

She sputtered and quickly got up, stealing a glance at the pursuing pack of runners led by Chastity, now entering the softball complex.  She pulled herself out of the clay mud and slid on her bare ass down the other side of the peak and headed for the canal.

The ground was soft, the grass concealing the puddles of water and mud hidden just below the surface.  Every step seemed to throw mud up the back of Sarah’s legs.  She knew the girls running in the pack would get the worst of it; having to deal with the mud kicked up by the girls in front.  She timed her approach to the canal, leaping from the edge of the ditch to try and clear the water trickling through the small valley below.  She landed on the other side with a muddy splat, scrambled to her feet, and took off running.

Sarah grinned at the squeals of shock as Chastity discovered the muddy pit at the top of the dune.

Sarah was in the straightaway now, making a beeline for the starting gate.  She could see the cluster of slower girls scrambling out of the churned-up pit and down the side of the dune, and heard the cries of the other girls getting mud kicked up in their faces by the pack leaders as they neared the canal.

Sarah clicked off her first lap and headed for the far corner.  Concerned that she was losing ground every time she hit an obstacle, she broke into a sprint to make up the distance lost at the clay mountain and the canal.

Sarah managed to maintain her lead through the second lap, though the face of the dune was noticeably softer from the numerous hands and feet that had clawed up it already. Again she swung her leg over the crest and landed with a splash in the puddle, and again she went down the other side, her ass sliding easily against the smoothed clay now that the other runners had packed it down.  She sprinted to the canal and cleared it with a leaping bound, landing ankle-deep in mud on the other side before exploding out of the earth and heading for the gate.

As she began her third lap, she saw that the pack had stretched considerably into one long line, though the last girl in the group was just entering the softball complex as Sarah blew through the starting gate.  Reaching the corner, she turned her head and caught a glimpse of Chastity and two other girls half-way through the stretch. Sarah realized that at least one of them just might have a shot at catching her.

She ran like a gazelle along the warning track, turned the corner and rounded the cages, breaking into a sprint to cover the distance to the clay mountain, then used her momentum to launch herself up the face of the dune.  This time she went over the ridge on her chest and slithered down the other side, sliding sideways and landing on her feet so she could hit the ground running. That was where she caught a winded runner and gave a playful slap to the slower girl’s clay-covered fanny.

Sprinting towards the canal, she could feel the fatigue starting to build in her legs as she passed two more runners and gave each of them a playful spanking, too.

She leaped over the canal, now soft and pock-marked with tiny craters in the mud, but her legs were failing her and she landed short on the other side, sinking up to her knees in the muddy stream. She pulled herself free with a grunt and scrambled to her feet, heading toward the gate.

Sarah looked over her shoulder as she hit the mid-way point in the last stretch before reaching the starting line. Chastity was almost to the canal, her body covered in mud and clay, with two other girls close behind.  Sarah realized that all three of them had a good chance of catching her now.

It was the final lap and Sarah thought she was going to die.  Her heart was beating furiously and her legs felt like cement.  Covered in clay and mud and bits of grass, she looked like a swamp creature as she sprinted to the first corner and made the turn.

Chastity was on her heels now, with the two other girls right behind her.

Sarah kicked up clay chips from the warning track with her feet, hoping the debris would slow Chastity and the others down.  Chastity weaved to one side of Sarah to avoid the spray of dirt; creating just a little more space between her and half-naked woman ahead.

Chastity reached for Sarah as they rounded the turn at the cages, prompting Sarah to break into a sprint as they raced for the clay dune.

Sarah hit the cliff face like a monkey, digging her hands into the slick mud and pulling herself over the top.  She landed on her chest in the puddle and tried to slide over the other side, but she suddenly felt a hand grab her ankle.  She looked back and saw Chastity pulling herself over the crest of the ridge, using Sarah’s leg for leverage to get up the side of the dune.

“That’s cheating!” Sarah gasped in protest.

“No rules!” Chastity replied as the other two girls climbed over Chastity’s body, pressing her down into the clay mud.

Sarah kicked herself free and squirmed out of the puddle, slid down the other side, and broke into a clumsy sprint towards the canal.

Her legs felt like lead.  “Just a little more,” she told herself. She could hear Chastity panting behind her.

She didn’t bother to leap the canal. She knew she didn’t have the strength.  Two steps through the watery mud and she was up the other side, the three girls chasing her now clearing the ditch as well,  almost even with her as they ran through the soft earth, the grass beaten down into the mud by the trampling of running feet.  Sarah was breathing ragged as all four girls sprinted for the finish line, their forms sloppy and uncoordinated.

Coming to the gate, four mud-covered rag dolls flopped over the line.

“Winner!” Chastity said, holding her clay-slicked arms up in victory.

Sarah hung her head, gasping for breath. “No,” she panted, “you cheated!”

The other two girls, also covered in mud and filth, walked like puppets in a circle and looked at Coach Faye for a ruling.

Coach Faye stood there in her clean track suit, staring at the four mud-caked women gasping for air.  She smiled at them. “Too close to call.  And since none of you are technically the winners, that means you’re all losers. Go ahead and spank each other,” she said with a laugh, “and go wash up over at the stadium. I don’t want you tracking all that dirt onto my clean locker-room floor.”

One of the girls groaned as Chastity started heading across the small auxiliary parking lot towards the athletics stadium.  Sarah followed her and the other two girls trailed behind, the darker one walking with a slight limp.

Sarah studied the way Chastity moved. Even though she was exhausted, the girl’s hips swayed sensually, her lean tummy twisting as she walked.  Sarah could see why James was in love with her.

One of the girls behind her said, “Nice run.”

Sarah turned and looked over her shoulder, unsure of which of the girls had spoken. “Me?” she asked, pointing to herself.

“Yeah, you” the dark-haired one said, “I’d heard you almost beaten James yesterday but I didn’t believe it.”

“Truth,” the other girl added, “that was impressive.”

“Told ya,” Chastity said, turning to face the trio as they marched through the stadium entrance.  She looked at Sarah and said, “I just didn’t think you could run that fast so soon after racing my Jimmy.”

Sarah smiled at the compliment, “Thanks. I really faded at the end, though. My legs feel like syrup. You guys are good.”

Chastity led them over to a giant pipe with a series of small tubes facing downwards.  She turned a spigot on the side and a spray of water came out of each tube.  Sarah stuck her hand out tentatively, gauging the water’s temperature.

“It’s climate-controlled,” the darker girl said as she stepped under a shower, “It adjusts to the ambient temperature year-round. It’s ok. It feels good.”

Chastity and the other girl were already under their little showers, rubbing the mud from their clothing. Sarah stepped under a little jet of spray and let the water fill her hair, the pressure lifting the filth from her scalp.  She began rubbing at the caked-on mud on her arms and legs, finding fresh mud on the backs of her thighs and the small of her back.  Looking down, she noticed that a puddle of mud had formed in the valley of her bra.  Grabbing the hem, she lifted the bottom, allowing the mud to flow out, and then lifted her top off completely.

The other girls looked at the naked woman now showering in the open air beside them, and then they looked at each other.  Chastity shrugged her shoulders and lifted her top off, too.  Soon, all four young women were naked under the warm sprays of water, rubbing at the mud that covered their bodies.

“You still have some on your back,” Chastity said to Sarah.

Sarah reached behind her, trying to find the offending dirt, her breasts stretching as she twisted her arms clumsily.

“No, here,” Chastity said, “I got it.”  She reached for Sarah’s hair and lifted it aside.  With a few quick wipes, she brushed the thick mud off Sarah’s back, the clumps flowing down her spine and running under the cheeks of her ass.

“Thanks,” Sarah said, turning as Chastity offered her back to the woman.  Sarah reciprocated, scrubbing the mud from between the girl’s shoulder blades.  Sarah then turned the other way and washed the back of the darker girl, Sarah’s breasts bobbing with the movement of her arm.  The girl turned and smiled her gratitude.

“Vella,” the girl said, extending a hand, “I figure I might as well introduce myself.”

“Dania,” the shorter girl said with a wave, “pleasure to race you.”

Sarah laughed as she accepted the handshake. “Thanks, pleased to race you, too.”

The girls finished up their showers, turning their clothes inside out and wringing the mud from the pieces. Satisfied that she had gotten as much out of her top as she could, Sarah stepped from the shower, slung the wet garment over her shoulder, and waited patiently for the others.

“You’re walking over to the lockers like that?” Vella asked.

Chastity gave the girl a nudge with her elbow.

Sarah saw the exchange and smiled. “It’s ok.  I’ve gotten used to it.”

“You know,” Chastity offered, “maybe we should all do it, too. Go naked. It’s not that far of a walk and it’s kind of pointless to put wet things back on for such a short trip.”

Dania gave Vella an “I will if you will” look and stepped out of the shower. Vella smiled and followed her, joining Chastity and Sarah on the walkway. Chastity turned the spigot with a squeak and the spray slowed to a trickle, then a few random drops.

Together, the four naked girls began their walk back through the stadium, towards the parking lot and the courtyard leading to the locker-room.  Another cluster of girls, looking more like mud creatures than human beings, approached from the other direction.  As the two groups drew closer, Sarah’s group got curious looks from the dirty runners, who turned and stared as a wet and naked Sarah, Chastity, Vella, and Dania passed them and continued walking along as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

“Sarah,” Vella asked after they had gone some distance from the others, “what’s it like in prison?”

Chastity hissed and gave her a sharp bump with her elbow.

Sarah stopped, put her hand on the Vella’s bare shoulder, and said “People keep asking me that.  Do you really want to know?”

Vella looked at her, unsure of how to respond.

“It’s ok,” Sarah said, looking at Chastity, “I’m not offended.”

Vella, looking at the others, then nodded tentatively.

“Ok,” Sarah said, “it’s like this.  They do a psych profile on you first, to determine how receptive you might be to rehabilitation.  They measure things like intelligence, environment, educational achievements, support networks, group affiliations, and available resources.  Then they look at your history of addiction, genetics, impulsive reactions, emotional stability, political beliefs, military records, non-conformities, and propensity for violence. That sort of thing. Basically, they determine the likelihood of you becoming a terrorist.”

The girls snickered.

“I’m not joking,” Sarah said gravely.

The girls looked at her, the joy draining from their faces.

“Once they have that data, they move on to sentencing and placement. Low risk offenders with a strong likelihood for rehabilitation are sent to the more progressive programs.  Some programs are better than others, of course, and each has its own philosophy on how to do things.  But they all have to follow certain guidelines, including the use of corporal punishment. The high-risk convicts have it the worst. Beatings, whippings. Things that are intended to break a person’s spirit, if not their body. You don’t want to know the brutality that goes on in a maximum security facility.”

Sarah paused, letting her words sink in.  She noticed that Chastity was looking away.  The other girls shifted uneasily.

“So,” Vella asked delicately, “what did you do?”

Chastity hissed again.

Sarah paused, remembering what Thomas had put in her file. “Assault.”

“You beat up somebody?”

“No. I slapped him. Twice.”

“Why?”

“I’d rather not say.”

Now Dania spoke up. “So what did they do to you? In prison?”

Sarah looked at the girl. Dania’s eyes were wide with morbid curiosity.

“Every prisoner is searched for contraband, starting at the top and working their way down.  They check your hair, your ears, your mouth, your throat.  They give you a complete upper GI; that’s where they search your digestive tract from your teeth to your stomach. Then they check your fat pockets for anything subcutaneous; your cheeks, the back of your neck and arms, your breasts, your belly, your hips. Then the anal inspection is done, along with the lower GI. That's followed by the vaginal inspection with a Dorman speculum. No anesthetic.”

“That doesn’t sound very pleasant,” Vella said.

“It’s not.  You’re bolted to a frame with your arms and legs spread out in an X, like an animal.  Even if you’ve never resisted before, you still get bolted down.  Your comfort is not their concern. You gag, you choke, you cramp.  You feel like you’re going to vomit and shit at the same time.  It’s horrible, but it works and that’s all they care about.”

The three girls now stared at Sarah, trying to disguise their shock.

“Anything else you want to know?” Sarah asked.

The girls looked at each other.

“Have you ever been whipped?”

Sarah took a step back, unsure of how to answer. The girls were about the same age she had been when she had asked Thomas to give her her first real bullwhipping.

She remembered the day clearly.  It was the early part of spring, when the trees were just starting to come out of their winter hibernation.  She and Thomas had gone down to their secret spot at the creek.  She had stripped naked for a swim while he tended to the horse.  The water was still cold so her dip had been brief, but afterwards she had sat on the old tree trunk; the sun warm against her skin.  “Whip me,” she had said.

Thomas had been reluctant.  He didn’t see the purpose of it.

She had been insistent. It was something she hadn’t experienced yet and she wanted to try it. “Just this once,” she promised him. He didn’t want to. It was too brutal, he said.  She had begged for it, promising to never ask a favor again but still he had refused.  Finally, she had slapped him.  Then she slapped him again, trying to anger him, demanding that he whip her in retaliation. Finally, as she swung at him again, he had caught her wrist in mid-stroke and agreed to whip her.

He had tied her wrists together with rope he kept on the saddle, then hoisted her up on tiptoes over a tree branch, stretching her out in the clearing where they played their secret games.  He had gone back to the saddle to retrieve the whip; a long ugly thing he used on cattle. She wondered what it would do to her skin as she hung there, vulnerable.  She had felt the wetness between her thighs as the breeze had caressed her body.

She could feel the echo of that moment in her pubis right now.

What could she tell the curious girls who now waited for her answer?

“Yes,” she replied, “I’ve been whipped.” 

With that she turned and headed for the courtyard.

“Sarah, wait!” It was Vella. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry,” Sarah replied, walking quickly, her eyes beginning to tear at the memory of Thomas and her home.  “I was just thinking of things. That’s all.”

The trio followed Sarah as she walked briskly into the courtyard, her breasts bobbing as she headed for the girls’ locker-room.

“Sarah,” Chastity said, “please stop. I just want you to know… I think you’re a good person.”

“Me, too,” Vella added.

“Same here,” Dania chimed in.

“And,” Chastity continued, “I want to apologize for what I’ve said and done to you.  I mean it. I had no idea.”

Sarah stopped. She wiped at her eyes, smiled, and said “Thank you.”

***

“I see you made some new friends,” Faye said as she closed the car door.

Sarah was already buckled into her seat, her handcuffs loose in her lap.

“What are those for?” Faye asked.

“All convicts are supposed to be restrained during transport.  I should’ve told you last night.”

Faye smiled. “I know, but you couldn’t get out of this car if you wanted to. I control the locks from over here.” Sarah heard the distinctive pop of electric locks from all four corners of the cabin. “So you can put those away. Besides, they're starting to make me a little aroused.”

Sarah giggled and tucked the chrome bracelets into a pocket in the door as Faye started the car.  The former race car driver pulled out of the parking lot and into the night. Sarah rested her head against the window sill and closed her eyes and thought of Thomas.

They had barely pulled out of the parking lot when Sarah bolted upright in her seat.

“My package!” she shouted.

“I have it. Don’t worry. The box is still right where I left it.  I wish you would tell me what it is, though. I don’t want whatever it is to get ruined.”

“I’ll tell you when we get to your apartment.”

“Drama queen,” Faye replied, “and speaking of last night, you still owe me your deepest, darkest secret, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Sarah said, “I’ll tell you when we get to your place.”

The rest of the drive was uneventful, as Sarah tilted the seat back and was soon fast asleep.

***

“Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re home.”

Home?  Sarah opened her eyes.  She looked out the window and saw a concrete wall where she was expecting a quaint, landscaped house. Not home. Faye’s apartment.

Sarah stretched and unbuckled her seatbelt, then reached for the door and stumbled out of the car.

“I have your package,” Faye said, her keys dangling from her finger as she handed the precious box to Sarah.

Sarah, still groggy, accepted the armful of plastic and wrapped her arms around it.  She felt like a zombie, her legs complaining with every step she took towards the elevator.  Still clutching the box in her arms, she bumped the yellow-white call disk with her elbow as Faye locked the car. Just then, the silver doors slid open with an impatient chime.

“It’s here,” Sarah grumbled.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Faye answered, walking quickly into the small enclosure.

Sarah closed her eyes and leaned against the paneling. “I feel a little nauseous,” she said.

“You’re just tired. You’ve had a full day. We’ll get you fed and then down for bed.”

The elevator doors opened and the two women, dressed in matching track suits, stepped out. They made the short walk down the hall to the stylish front door of Faye's unit and Faye slid her key into the lock. With a click, the lock was released and the door rotated open.

“There we go. Home at last,” Faye said, dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. Sarah came traipsing in behind her, still snuggling with the rigid plastic container.

Sarah made her way to the living room and set the box on the couch. She then unzipped her jacket and set it across the back of a chair.  “Faye,” she said, returning to her package, “could you come here for a moment please?”

Faye slipped her shoes off and set them by the door, then joined Sarah in the living room. “What is it? Is something the matter?”

Sarah looked down. “No, nothing’s the matter.  But I haven’t been completely honest with you and I think there’s something you need to know about me.”

“If this is about last night…”

“Yes,” Sarah smiled, “well, not just last night. Pretty much the entire time I’ve been here.”

Faye looked at her. “Something to do with prison then?”

“Yes, exactly. I’m … kind of here under false pretenses…”

Faye gave her a questioning glance. “Is this your deepest, darkest secret?”

Sarah nodded. “It is. Faye, do you remember when you first met me, how you said you knew who I was because we had raced against each other?”

“Yes, and I told you I didn’t care what circumstances in life brought you to where you were.  All I cared about was the running.”

“Right.  About that…” Sarah said kindly, “You were one of the few that didn't judge me as a lesser human being just because I was a convict. So I think I owe you some explanations. Ok, you remember me from the finals so I’ll start there.  There was this boy…”

Faye gave her a conspiratorial grin, “Go on…”

“Well, we grew up together, went through school together, and when it was time for college I went and he didn’t. He was supposed to go, but his father took ill and he had to return home to tend to the family farm.  This was about the time of the market collapse, and it nearly cost him his farm and my father nearly lost ours.  Fortunately, my father saw an opportunity with the government to convert our farm into a rehabilitation center, so he took it. It was the only way he could afford to keep me in school.  Thomas, the boy I grew up with, enrolled in the same program…”

“Thomas? You mean Thomas Leighton?”

“Right.”

Faye, intrigued, leaned closer.

“Well, after I graduated I came back and found that my father had turned our farm into this... sort of black ugliness, but I just assumed that was the way things were done on the business side of the system so I didn’t question it.  And then I found Thomas. He wasn’t the teenager I’d known in school. He’d grown up quickly, becoming successful in his business; the same business as my father. Except, Thomas did things differently.  He saw the good in the people he accepted; treating them with respect. Not like some of the other wardens.  I fell in love with him all over again.”

“You’re in love with your warden?”

“No,” Sarah replied, shaking her head, “well yes. I’m in love with him, and he loves me, but he’s not my warden.”

Faye looked at her, confused. “What do you mean? You were assigned here by Leighton Acres.”

“Not quite. I came here from Leighton Acres.  I wasn't assigned,” Sarah said, wondering how long it would take for Faye to catch up to her.

“What’s so secret about that?” she asked, “Am I missing something?”

“Faye,” Sarah said, “I'm here because we didn't want to send a real inmate.”

The truth began to dawn on Faye. "You mean to tell me," she said slowly, backing away from her new friend on the couch, "that you’re not a convict?  That you volunteered for this?"

"Sort of. Thomas had to convince me, but I was willing to do it."

"You mean you volunteered to walk around naked and let strangers poke and prod you?  To let yourself be used like a... a...whore?  Are you crazy?"

Sarah laughed. "No, I'm not crazy. I've been going through the system as a convict for about two weeks now, to learn how things operate from an assignee's point of view. I'm actually the assistant warden... rather, the future assistant warden... of Leighton Acres.  I'm still on a bit of a probationary period."

Faye looked at her, weighing the woman's words with a critical mind, and said, "No.  I think you're lying to me. I think maybe you're a con artist and that's why you were sent to prison. I never should have..."

"Faye," Sarah said, sliding the plastic postal box towards her, "open this.  And if you still don't believe me, you can call Thomas."

Faye looked at Sarah, reading her face, then slid the latches open on the box and lifted out the first package.  She tugged on the seal and opened the wrapper. Inside was some material in a familiar orange color. She reached in and pulled it out. "What is this?"

"Its a template for our uniform.  That's what we start with, before we tailor the piece to the assignee. I wasn't sure what size you wore and I didn't want to guess. I'm going to take your measurements tonight so it can get modified specifically for you. Now open the next one."

Faye reached back inside and pulled out the next wrapper.  There was some writing on it.

"Carrots", she said, reading the label.

"Yes, you seemed fond of them."

Faye reached in again and pulled out several more. "'Oranges', 'Grapes', 'Field Peas', 'Spinach'... 'Strawberries'!  I love strawberries!" she exclaimed, "'Chicken', 'Tilapia'... this must've cost you a fortune!"

Sarah laughed. "It's a farm, remember?  All it cost us was a plot of earth and some seeds.  The state provided the labor.  I figured you would appreciate good ingredients."

Faye looked at her, about to cry.

"Keep going," Sarah said, "there should be an envelope in there for you."

Faye fumbled around inside the box and found a small envelope with her name on it, the flap sealed with a wax-embossed "LA" crest.  She'd never seen anything like it before. It seemed elegant and old-fashioned.

"Read it to me," Sarah said, "I want to know what he wrote."

Faye looked at her and then began to read. "Dear Faye, I hope that this card finds you in good health.  I've enclosed some samples from our farm that I hope you will enjoy.  The resealable packaging is designed to act as a humidifier, keeping the produce at the peak of freshness for up to a month before spoiling.  I've been told that you're a connoisseur of fresh fruits and vegetables, so if our product isn't up to your standards, please feel free to return any undesirable pieces and we will endeavor to deliver a better product to you."

"That's Thomas," Sarah said, "Always business first."

"Hush, there's more," Faye said, continuing with the card, "As with all of our products, we strive to ensure customer satisfaction, but we understand that we cannot always deliver a perfect product every time.  If you feel my fiancée is not performing satisfactorily..."

Sarah let out howl and reached for the card.  Faye quickly blocked her attempt and kept reading, "... not performing satisfactorily, feel free to return her as well. Unfortunately, she is irreplaceable, but we are prepared to compensate you in equivalent fruits and vegetables. Sincerely, Thomas Leighton."  Faye burst out laughing.

"I'm going to kill him!" Sarah shouted, covering her face with her hands, "Now you see why I'm prone to violence!"

Faye continued laughing as she rummaged around inside the box, taking an inventory of the contents.  She paused in her laughter when she found another card. "Sarah, this one's for you."

Sarah, pouting on the couch, uncoiled her arms and accepted the envelope.  She felt something unusual inside and quickly tore it open.  A small silver key slid out.

"What's that?" Faye asked.

Sarah began to cry. "It's the key to his heart."

***

Sarah found herself sitting in the dean's office. Again.

The dean was sitting across from her, his fingers tapping on his desk. Again.

She sat in the hard wooden chair, waiting for him to speak. Again.

The clock ticked loudly behind her.  She had never noticed it before.  She had also never noticed how badly his veins throbbed in his neck when he was angry.  This could not be good.

"Can you please tell me," he started, "why this school's top three runners came to me this morning to ask that you be released from the Program?"

"No, sir. I have no idea."

"Well then, can you tell me why the entire cross-country team wants to practice in the nude?"

"No idea, sir."

"How about why on God's Green Earth a letter arrived today from Leighton Acres asking for the purchase price of a charcoal drawing made by one of our students; a drawing that looks suspiciously like you?"

"Maybe Mr. Leighton appreciates fine pieces of art, sir.  He does have a keen eye for beautiful things."

The dean made a fist with his hand and slowly thumped it against the desk top.  The vein in his neck was particularly pronounced.  Sarah thought it was going to explode right there and spray blood all over the office and all over her.

The clock still ticked on the wall behind her.

"You continue to vex me, young lady.  So far you’ve managed to cause numerous disruptions to the smooth operation of this school while operating within the rules of the Program.  A number of teachers have requested your participation in their classes, but at this point in time I’m overriding their applications because your participation may not be conducive to their lesson plans. Your assignment today will be simple.  You’re going to spend every single period of the school day in the library. Dismissed.”

Dismissed? Did he really want her to spend all day in seclusion? “Sir,” she started, “I don’t believe that’s in the spirit of…”

“I don’t care,” he replied sharply. “I’m responsible for being the caretaker of these students, and I can’t have you disrupting their educational needs.  My decision is firm. Perhaps you’d care to make it two days in the library?”

“No sir. I understand completely, sir.”

“Very well. Dismissed… again.”

Sarah got up and walked out the door.

***

The hall was busier than usual, or so it seemed to Sarah as she exited the main office and headed towards her assignment. She hadn’t even taken three steps when she felt a hand grab her ass.

She turned around, ready to strike, but the offender had blended into the mass of moving bodies.

Someone spanked her; a quick pop to her cheek, the sound lost in the noisy hall.  Then someone grabbed her boob, followed by another spank on her ass.  Then a quick twist on her exposed nipple.  She winced. Things were getting out of hand.

She turned and ran, fighting her way through the crush of students around her, towards the exit.  She knew where the library was. She’d passed it on her first day at the school as she’d been led in shackles from the van.

She burst into the open air and jumped down the short stairs leading from the school, trying to escape her attackers.  She made the short run to the library entrance and ducked inside, looking back to see if she was being pursued. 

The librarian, an older woman, came over and gave Sarah the up-down judgmental look. “You must be Sarah,” she said condescendingly, “I have your station set up over here.”

Sarah was breathing heavy, looking back over her shoulder towards the door as the woman led her to a small desk.  A stack of books covered the desk, stacked randomly.  “Here you go, dear. These need to be shelved.”

Sarah looked at the stack. “A Tale of Two Cities”, “A Separate Peace”, “Paradise Lost”, “Crime and Punishment”, and “Memoirs, Revelations, and Poems” were a few of the titles that caught her eye.  She’d read some of them as part of her school curriculum, but under the pressure of a school load she’d never had the opportunity to really enjoy them.  “Miss,” Sarah asked, “would it be ok if I read some of these first?”

A look of surprise swept across the woman’s face. “Read them? Why, certainly, dear,” the woman replied, “those have been sitting there for months. Seems that nobody cares much for printed books anymore.  Most of students prefer the electronic versions instead.”

So had Sarah.  The convenience was irrefutable; being able to transport volumes of information in a lightweight electronic tablet made a student’s life easier to manage.  But Thomas had preferred the hard-bound versions of the classics.  He told her that being able to hold a book in his hands made him feel connected with the author that wrote it.  Electronics was for the temporary here-and-now, but the printed word was forever.  As the housemaid assigned to keeping his private library dust-free while she prepared for her prison board exam, she had read a few from his collection. She was beginning to agree with him.

Sarah thanked her, and picked up Dickens.

She had just settled into her chair and begun to read when she felt the presence of someone in front of her.

Vella.

“Hi,” the girl said with a wave.

“Hello,” Sarah replied. “Something I can do for you?”

“Um, I just wanted to apologize if I hurt your feelings yesterday,” she said, “I didn’t really mean anything by my comment. You know, about asking about being whipped. I was just kind of wondering…”

“I understand. You were just being curious.”

“Well, yeah,” Vella said, “I was wondering if…”

Sarah cocked her head, waiting for the girl to finish her thought. “Yes?”

Vella sat down in the chair next to Sarah, smoothing her skirt as she pressed her knees together. She leaned in close to Sarah and whispered, “I just wanted to know if you’d been whipped, and I was wondering how it felt.”

The girl looked at Sarah expectantly, waiting to see if Sarah would share her experiences with her.

“Why do you want to know?”

Vella looked around nervously, pursing her lips, “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She got up to leave.

“Wait, sit back down,” Sarah said, then in a lowered voice asked, “Do you want it to be done to you?”

Vella looked at her and nodded.

Sarah placed her hand on the girl’s arm and said, “Done right, it can be the most fantastic feeling in the world.  The rush you get is indescribable.  The fear just before it starts; like when you’re on a roller coaster as it’s climbing the launch platform. You know, on the old-fashioned ones that go clink-clink-clink as the chain pulls you up? For me that's the most exciting part. That’s the thrill. The anticipation of what’s about to happen. Hanging there, waiting, listening to my heart beating.  The adrenaline starts going, the heat builds up; and then you get that first pop and your world starts to explode.  Every nerve in your body is on high alert. Then it becomes a matter of how much can you take before your body starts to shut down.  It can add so much to a good sexual experience if you’re with someone you love.  It’s just fantastically erotic.”

Vella looked at her, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as Sarah continued.

“But in the wrong hands, with the wrong people, it can be an instrument of evil.  You never want to find yourself in that situation, where you’re being whipped as punishment by somebody who's malicious; who doesn't care about you.  It can destroy you.  The whip can cut your back to the bone, just from the impact of the leather against your skin. It can break you down until you die, one slice at a time.  So please promise me you’ll be careful, ok?”

Vella nodded and started to get up, then stopped and said, “Oh, by the way, there’s a rumor going around school that you let the entire swim team feel you up, and that you liked it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Thanks,” she said, “that explains why everyone was pawing at me this morning.”

Vella looked at her questioningly. “So… did you?”

“Let the team feel me up? I had to.  It’s part of the rules of the Program.  But it wasn't the swim team. It was the water polo team, and just a few of them. Did I enjoy it? I’m not going to lie. I did.  They wanted me to. But I don’t want to do something like that again. And I most certainly did not enjoy being grabbed like a piece of meat in the hall this morning.”

Just then, Sarah felt light-headed and groaned.

“Are you ok?” Vella asked.

Sarah looked up at her. “I’m a little dizzy. It’ll pass in a second.”

“Ok, well, take care of yourself. I have to get going. See you at practice?”

Sarah nodded and the girl got up and left.

As the door closed behind her, a large boy came in, did a quick survey around the lobby, and made a beeline for Sarah.

“Hi,” he said, “you’re the convict, right?”

Sarah looked up from her book. “I prefer the term ‘assignee’, thank you.”

“Oh,” he said, accepting the correction, “um, I was wondering… you know, I heard you gave blowjobs to most of the football team yesterday so…”

Sarah looked at him sternly and said “No, I did not.”

“Oh.  Well, I also heard you had to do whatever a student tells you to do, and…”

“No,” Sarah said, “I do not.”

The boy, becoming annoyed, replied, “Hey, look, I heard you were a whore of some sort and I want…”

Sarah interrupted him again. “No, I am not.  If you came here for sex, I should tell you that I’m not allowed to touch a student.” 

The boy puffed in frustration.

Sarah put a piece of paper in her book and closed it, then neatly folded her hands over the top and said, “If you have been told that I have been giving blowjobs, or handjobs, or anything of that nature to anybody, then you are being told a lie and I suggest you go back to that person and correct him.  Now, is there anything else?”

The boy puffed again, shifted his weight, and said, “Let me see your boobs.”

Sarah sat back and raised her arms in surrender.

“Ok,” he said waving his hand at his partial victory, “very nice.  I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.” Then he turned and left.

“Lech,” she muttered as she opened her book and resumed reading.

As the boy exited, Gap-Tooth and Barney came in and started walking towards Sarah.

“No,” Sarah said, raising her hand without taking her eyes off of the book.

The two looked at each other. “But we didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. My answer is already ‘no’.  I know what’s being said about me and it’s a lie. I’m sorry if I’m ruining your dream.”

“Oh, the lacrosse team? We’ve heard all about that,” Gap-Tooth started waving his hand dismissively, “but that’s not why we’re here.”

“Yeah, we got an idea for a movie that we want to do and we wanted your opinion on it.”

“And we were hoping you’d want to be in it.”

“I don’t do pornography,” Sarah said curtly.

“No, it’s not like that at all,” Gap-Tooth said, “It’s about the future.”

“Yeah, like, when there’s no more fuel and people have to rely on other things and so cities become kingdoms ruled by warlords.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

"Yeah, we got to thinking about it. You know, 'what if'? What would the world be like?"

"It would be about as stupid as your film."

Gap-Tooth and Barney looked at each other, dismayed.  Gap-Tooth tugged on Barney’s sleeve and nudged him towards the door.

Sarah felt bad. Not only had she turned them down, she’d insulted their imagination.

“Ok, wait,” she said stretching her hand towards the two, “Let me think about it. Tell me some more about your movie.”

***

Torches rolled up black smoke, adding to the sinister stains on the darkened beams overhead, the flickering light reflecting off the sweat-slicked body of the woman stretched out on the rack.

In the post-industrial apocalypse, when the oil had run out, the cities became the domains of the fortunate few who controlled the water.  Where there was water, there was life.  And where there was life, there was power.  Old friends became enemies, and old enemies spilled blood.  The war machine needed to be fed.

A low moan escaped from the woman's lips.  They had been working on her for hours, trying to break her, trying to get her to confess. She was strong, but even the strong have their breaking point.

"Stretch her again," a voice commanded.

A robed figured approached the windlass of the machine.  Heavy chains ran from the axle to the cuffs around the woman's wrists, her ankles secured to the foot of the device by heavy metal rings.  Her legs were spread wide, offering her captors unrestricted access to her most sensitive areas.

A bony hand, yellowed with disease, pushed against the spoke, drawing the chain up further onto the windlass. A pawl set into the side of the wheel clacked twice, then slipped into position, preventing the axle from spinning back.

The woman moaned again as her body was stretched, her lean tummy rippling with pain as she gasped and choked, fresh sweat collecting in the furrow of her breasts, streaming across her lean belly before disappearing into her exposed slit.  Her tits, drawn tight against her chest by the exertion on her body, heaved with her panting, the puckered nipples pointing upwards towards the soot-stained beams of the ceiling.

"I see no reason to stretch her more.  Use the hot irons."

The robed figure turned and reached towards a glowing brazier, several lengths of raw black metal extending out toward him.  He pulled on a heavy leather gauntlet, stoked the fire within the glowing furnace, and selected his instrument of torture.

The woman cried out in fear as the robed figure turned towards her.  She tugged at the bonds around her wrists, trying desperately to pull herself free.  It was no use. She was securely bound, allowing her no movement whatsoever.

Her torturer held the iron above her face, letting her see the heat radiating from the tip, the metal yellowing slightly as he passed the rod downwards above the length of her body.  She quivered as the iron passed over her, waiting for it to drop and sear her skin.

Finally, the hooded figure stood at the end of the rack, the iron rod descending slowly towards the captured sole of her foot.  She shivered with fear as she felt the heat of the iron's approach.  The rod lightly touched the instep and a thin swirl of smoke curled upwards, carrying with it the smell of burning flesh.

She screamed.

"Again."

The figure nodded and lowered the rod, drawing another line across the woman's foot as she howled with pain, her back arching as much as the tension on her body would allow.  Then, mercifully, she collapsed and fell silent.

Cold water revived her.

"Who do you work for?!" a voice commanded.

She tried to speak, her voice cracked and broken through lips she could not bring together.

"Use the stones."

The robed figure turned back towards the brazier and replaced the iron rod, now a dull black.  He grabbed a bucket hanging from the side of the small furnace and carefully shoveled several stones out of the embers, letting each one land with a thud in the bottom.  He then placed the bucket on the table between the condemned woman's wide-forked thighs.

Still wearing the thick leather gloves, he selected a stone from within the bowl and prepared to insert it into her body.

She could only watch as the fire-hot orb descended on the inflamed lips of her pussy.  She twitched and flinched as the stone nuzzled against the opening of her snatch, then, suddenly he pressed it against her sex and it was inside her.

She screamed anew, mewling and howling as the hot stone cooked the lining of her tunnel. Every muscle in her body stood out, dancing and twisting as she shuddered, gasped, and finally collapsed on the deck; her energy completely spent. Sweat matted her hair as she lay panting in the flickering light.

The man reached for another stone.

"I... I work for my mistress...,” the woman began, “I am a simple house slave..."

"Liar!"

The torturer moved to apply the stone.

"No!" the woman begged, "No, please.  I... I will confess!"

The man paused, then placed the stone back into the bucket; keeping the arsenal handy in case they should be needed.

"Speak!"

"I am sent from Lothar, to collect information.  I am to be rewarded well for my efforts, when Lothar has captured your city, slain your army, and enslaved the cur bitch that is my mistress!"

"Stupid wench! You are in no position to be rewarded. Slay her."

The robed man nodded and reached for a fresh rod from the brazier as the woman squirmed on the rack.  The tip glowed menacingly as he held it over her outstretched body. He then pressed it firmly, forcefully, against her chest.  An inhuman shriek tore from her throat and deep red liquid bubbled up where iron met flesh. Soon her screaming subsided as the life ebbed from her body in an expanding pool of blood, her life-bearing liquid mixing on the dark wood with those who’d come before her.

The voice said, “Bring the next one.”

The robed man nodded and moved away.

"Annnnd cut!  Great scene, Sarah."

The dead woman smiled as the figure hovering over her flipped his hood back.  "That was intense!" Gap-Tooth exclaimed.

"Yeah, it’s going great!" his partner said from off-camera, unclipping the microphone from his shirt.

Sarah smiled as Barney released the catch on the windlass, the axle spinning freely as the pressure was relieved on her arms and chest.  She lay there for a moment, recovering from the stress placed on her body. “Barney,” she asked, “would you mind undoing my cuffs?”

“Sure,” he said as Gap-Tooth moved to unlock the manacles from around Sarah’s legs.

Once freed of her bonds, she drew her legs up into a V, her feet laying flat against the damp wood of the table.  She sighed and pulled herself up with a groan, bracing herself on her elbows.  Covering her mound of Venus with her hand, she squeezed her pelvic muscles and caught the stone as it plopped out from her slit.  “Hey Barney,” she said with a mischievous grin, tossing the stone to him, “Now you can smell me all you want.”

Gap-Tooth started laughing as Barney held the stone up to his nose. “I still don't smell nuthin',” he replied.

Sarah rolled onto her side along the edge of the table and sat there, watching as the small crew of students dismantled the set. Gap-Tooth switched off the plastic brazier and picked it up with one hand.  Barney retrieved the smoke-maker rod and drained the gas out of it.  They had been filming all afternoon and everyone was exhausted.  As Sarah sat there languidly, the student film crew worked at breakneck speed. They only had a few hours to break everything down and pack it up before the Kingdom of the Magyar had to become the Wood Shop again.

Faye walked over and handed Sarah a towel, saying “I can’t believe you talked me into letting you do this instead of track practice.  You’re my responsibility, remember?”

Sarah winked, wiped the fake blood off her torso, and said, “Sometimes we have to suffer for art.”

Faye laughed. “And the rocks?  You have no shame." 

“I’m a simple convict. I only do what I’m told.”

Faye shook her head and smiled at the joke.  “Ok, c’mon, convict. Let’s get you in the showers.”

As the two women exited the building, Sarah said, “Faye, I just want to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being someone I can trust.  That’s a hard thing to come by these days.”

Faye smiled. “Well then, you’re welcome.”  She looked at her naked friend and said, “you know, I was going to return you to Leighton Acres for some bananas, but maybe I’ll keep you around after all.”

Sarah laughed. "I appreciate the sentiment."

***

Because Sarah was under the direction of the track team for extracurricular activities, and because of her impromptu performance in the boy’s locker room with James, Coaches Bill and Faye had agreed that, going forward, Sarah would not be permitted to shower with the boys.

The girls’ track team had just finished its practice when Sarah entered the changing area, dropping her towel into the receptacle as she headed for the showers.  The other girls were already there, occupying all available spots, so Sarah stood by the small splashguard around the bathing area, scanning for a shower head to become available.  She put her arm on the low wall and waited.

Suddenly she felt a sharp slap on her bare ass.

“Ow!”, she yelped, one hand moving to protect her bottom as the other curled up, ready to strike as she turned to face her attacker.

“Whoa!” Dania said, raising her hands as a grin tugged at her mouth, “Don’t be mad. You had it coming.”

“How so?” Sarah protested, rubbing her bottom smartly.

“The bet yesterday, remember?”

“That was only if you beat me, and you didn’t beat me.”

“Ah but Coach said we could spank each other,” Dania replied. “Go ahead,” she said, offering her own upturned naked rump to Sarah.

Sarah smiled. “No, I’ll collect later. With interest,” she said with an evil grin. She then turned and looked at her own ass, a palm-sized red spot beginning to form. “That really stung, by the way, so expect payment in kind.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. You can pay me back now if you’d like,” Dania said, offering her ass to Sarah again.

“No,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “I’d prefer to keep you in suspense; never really knowing when I’m going to strike,” she said devilishly. “So what’s up? How was practice?”

“Went ok. Would’ve been better if you’d been there, though. Where were you?”

“I had another commitment.”

Dania moved closer, placed her hand on the splashguard, and lowered her voice. “It wasn’t prison stuff, was it?”

“No,” Sarah said, “I was doing a favor for a couple of friends. I was filming a movie with the Video Club.”

“Those freakazoids?  Those guys give me the creeps.  They’re always wearing shirts with ghouls and dragons all over them and talking about made-up worlds with made-up names.  They need to come into the real world and get a life.”

Sarah looked off at nothing in particular and said, “Sometimes we all need a little fantasy in our lives. It distracts us from the ugliness and helps keep us sane.”

Dania paused for a moment, absorbing the words. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  But they still give me the creeps.”

“They’re not so bad once you get to know them.  They were actually the first students to talk to me when I got here.”

“That’s because you were naked and they wanted to hump your bones.”

“Maybe, but we’ve come to an understanding since then.  They’ve developed a healthy respect for my left hook,” Sarah replied, mimicking her punch and drawing a giggle from the sweaty girl leaning next to her.

“Sarah,” Dania said, “I just want to say that it’s great you’re here.  I like you. You're cool to be around. In fact, I want to be like you when I grow up, but without the statutory convictions.”

Sarah laughed and said, “Thanks. Oh, look!”  She patted Dania on the arm, “shower time!”  Sarah headed towards two available shower heads, Dania in tow.  Pressing a blue disk on the wall, Sarah stood under the silver nozzle as the shower came to life.  She quickly squirted some shampoo into her palm and worked it into her soft, dark hair, the white lather foaming between her gentle curls.  Her breasts bobbed with the motion of her arms as she massaged the fragrant lotion into her scalp, thin trails of white suds crawling across her shoulders and down her back before disappearing under her ass; one globe bearing a faint red mark on its curve of muscle.

As Sarah rinsed the foam from her hair, she looked over and noticed that Dania had her eyes closed.

A smack rang out, echoing off the shower tiles.

“Ow!” the girl cried, spinning and crooking one eye towards her aggressor.

Sarah giggled with revenge.

Dania smiled and resumed her bathing.

Sarah leaned back and raised her arms, letting the water cascade off her face and chest, her breasts channeling the water into a little river that ran down her tummy and over her slit.  She stretched, arching her back and letting her muscles enjoy the feeling of the water against her skin. It felt good and she never wanted it to end.

"Hey, guys."

Sarah opened her eyes. It was Vella and Chastity.

"Hey," she replied lazily.

"So where were you, slacker?"

"She was hanging out with the freakazoids," Dania replied.

"The Video Club?" Chastity asked, "why would you want to hang out with them?"

Sarah opened her eyes, turned off the water and draped her arms over the three naked girls.  "Say what you will about them, but they have the most interesting toys," she said conspiratorially. She then slid behind Vella, positioning herself between the darker girl and Chastity. "And, by the way," she said, looking at Dania...

Smack! Smack!

"Ow!" the two victims cried out in unison as Sarah skittered out of the shower, the two red marks becoming bookends on the girls' bare asses.

***

Sarah rested her head on the sill of the car window, the lights of the city speeding past as Faye drove through the night.  Sarah exhaled and closed her eyes, the lights playing across her eyelids as she started to decompress from the day's events.

She heard a strange beep and opened one eye.

Faye was pointing a stun gun at her, the two little silver needles ready to launch their tiny electrodes into her body.

Sarah jumped and pressed herself against the door. "No!  Please! I'll obey!" she screamed reflexively, closing her eyes as she squirmed in her seat.

"Relax," Faye said, alarmed at the reaction her instrument had caused in her friend, "it's just a bio-reader that we use for monitoring the runners.  I was checking your resting heart rate.  Did you know you were only a few beats away from being comatose?"  Faye checked the numbers as the gun beeped again, "but don't worry, it's climbing up quickly now."

"I'm sure it is!  I thought you were going to electrocute me!"

Faye laughed, then remembered the horror stories she'd heard about prison.  "I'm sorry. I didn't really think..."

"You!" Sarah sat panting in the passenger seat, trying to calm herself back down. "You may want to think! Like, think about warning somebody before you point that thing at them!"

"Well, you were asleep and I wanted to see what your resting baseline was, so I..."

"Yeah, well, next time just say something first, ok?"

"Ok," Faye said, suitably admonished, "by the way, another package came for you today. I meant to tell you earlier but it slipped my mind."

"Oh, good. It's another surprise."

"For me?"

"Well if I told you, it wouldn't be much of a surprise now, would it?"

Faye grinned. She knew she wouldn't get an answer out of her charge. "So back to the readings. Did you know you were almost dead?"

Sarah sighed and slid back into the seat. "Yeah, I had that problem in high school, too.  Because I was training so much, my cardio-respiratory system became super-efficient at oxygen management and my heart would slow periodically when I would sit still for too long. I would get woozy if I tried to move too quickly after sitting for awhile. I still get that sometimes. It scared the trainers but the doctor said it wasn't anything to be too concerned about unless I started having black-outs."

"Is that why you quit running?"

"Oh, I never quit running," Sarah said, correcting her friend, "I quit racing.  After my mom died, I sort of lost my will to compete I guess. She died my freshman year of college.  After she passed, I missed some classes and got kicked off the team.  I never really saw any point to trying out for it again. I didn't really have the heart for it anymore."

Faye stole a glance at her friend. Sarah was looking out the window at the moon through the trees.

"Do you still miss her?"

"My mother?  Every day.  Whenever I look in the mirror, she looks back at me. I am my mother's daughter, no question about it."

Faye tapped on the steering wheel.  There was a question she wanted to ask, but didn't know how...

Sarah saw her fidgeting. She smiled knowingly. "Deep vein thrombosis leading to a pulmonary embolism.  A blood clot lodged in her lung and another in her brain. There was nothing they could do. It happened too quickly."

Faye kept silent, following the lines in the road.

"She was an orchestral pianist and did a lot of traveling," Sarah continued,  "They think one clot formed in her leg and broke loose, possibly more, as a result of her sitting in one position for too long on a trip." Sarah shifted in her seat, half-turning towards Faye. "She was very good.  I remember growing up listening to the music drifting through the house.  When the windows were open, it was as if the wind was singing with her.  It was very beautiful.  I could never match her style."

Faye glanced at the young woman seated next to her. "You play?"

"Oh yeah," Sarah said, "I used to play every evening when I got home from track practice.  It helped me wind down. You know, music to soothe the savage beast.  That's one of the things I miss the most; being able to play."  A sadness came over Sarah. "After Mom died, Dad sold the piano. He didn't know how to use it and I was gone.  He needed the money to keep me in school. I don't blame him. I would've done the same thing. Doesn't make it better, though."

Faye acknowledged her with a hum.

"You know," Sarah continued, "Dad was a different person after that, particularly whenever I was with him. I'd come home from college and I could tell he wasn't the same; he seemed edgy and irritated.  And angry. Always angry. I remember he would always yell about the littlest things.  His friends would tell me he was ok when I asked them, that he was still active with his club and seemed happy, but I never saw that when I was home.  I guess that's another reason I started spending so much time at the Leighton place.  All that anger and sadness."

"Do you think he was seeing ghosts?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you look as much like your mom as you say, then maybe he saw her whenever he was looking at you.  That can be a pretty strong memory."

Sarah sat upright in her seat.  A white-hot diamond-tipped arrow had just been shot into her consciousness.  "Oh!" she gasped, "Oh, wow.  I never thought of that.  That.... that explains a lot." Sarah turned to her friend, her arm braced against the back of the seat as she grabbed the dashboard with the other.  Faye could see Sarah's mouth was moving, but it was a few seconds before any words came out.  "Oh, Faye... I need to apologize to him.  He probably blames me for having to sell the piano.  If I'd stayed on the team, I could've had everything paid for ... he wouldn't... oh, no ...."

The pieces were falling into place like bricks.  If she hadn't been so selfish... if she'd gone to class... if she'd stayed on the team... if he hadn't had to suddenly bear the cost of her education... if he hadn't sold the one thing that embodied the woman he loved... if. So many ifs.

"Oh, Faye. I've done something terrible... it's all my fault!"  Sarah fell back into the seat, grabbing her head. "All of it!  To everybody!  Oh, Faye, I need to... I need...I... I need to fix..."

"Easy, girl, you can't do anything tonight."

"Yes I can. I can prepare for tomorrow.  Where's your phone?"

Faye handed her the small box.  Sarah immediately pressed the screen, her face bathed in the dull red light of the display, the phone automatically changing the color of the display so as not to ruin her night-vision.  Sarah pressed a few numbers and held the box to her ear.

"Thomas! It's Sarah.  I'm sorry to disturb you, my love, but I need to get out of the Program; but in a way that I can get back in.  No, I don't know how. I haven't thought that part out yet.  No, I'm in no danger.  I just... I realized that I need to speak with my father. I need to apologize for the way things have turned out."  Sarah paused, listening to the buzz in the earpiece.  "Do you have someone?" Sarah listened again. "Yes, I can wait another day I suppose.  Yes, certainly. I understand.  Thank you so much!” Sarah fell back in her seat and a look of relief washed across her face. “No, I haven't opened the box yet. Why?"  Sarah chuckled. "Oh, really? You can neither confirm nor deny?  I'll deal with you when I get back!  What? No. Well, she did threaten to exchange me for some bananas."

Faye giggled. She knew what Thomas had asked.

"Yes, she's here. She's laughing."  Sarah turned to her driver. "Faye, he says he's got a bunch set aside." Before Faye could respond, Sarah said, "she says no way. She also says you're a stingy tight-wad that needs to come forth with a genuine offer and quit low-balling her; preferably ..." Sarah's mouth hung open as she prepared to keep talking.   Apparently Thomas was saying something more important. Her expression changed, softening in the dim light of the cabin. "Thomas?  I love you.  I love you and I miss you." Sarah started to cry. "Yes. Yes, my love.  I will.  Love you more."

Sarah closed the phone and set it in the center console.

"So?" Faye asked, "I got part of it.  Now what?"

"He thinks he can replace me with another girl, but not until after tomorrow. The girl he wants to send is still being processed and there's a twenty-four hour quarantine afterwards that she'll have to sit out.  The rest is stuff I'd rather not share, if that's ok."  Sarah sniffed and looked at the starry skyline of towering buildings of steel and glass as they passed by her window.

Faye looked at her, not really sure what to say to comfort her.  Or even if she wanted to be comforted. "You know," Faye said softly, "I think there's a piano in the storage building."

Sarah turned her head. "What storage building?"

"When the school closed the music program, they turned the music room into a storage building by the side of the school.  If we still have a piano, that's where it'd be."

Sarah placed her hand on Faye's arm. "Thank you, Faye.  You don't know how much you've done."

Faye grinned. "At least two bunches worth."

***

Sarah and Faye stood over the box in the middle of Faye's living room.  Sarah slid the locks open and began unpacking the contents.  "Now," she started, "don't get excited.  This isn't for you.  But I will need your help with it."

"What is it?"

"It's the stuff you said you used to make your special meals, plus a few extra things I thought would complement the flavor.  I want you to make a batch for the track and cross-country teams."

Faye looked at her. "You mean there's enough here to feed twenty people?"

Sarah looked at her and nodded, "And a little more.  It never hurts to invite guests to dinner."  Sarah dug a little deeper into the box. "Ah!  Here it is. For you!" She handed a package to Faye, who tore the ribbon off the end and reached inside.  When she pulled her hand out, it was grasping a familiar orange material.

"You didn't!" she exclaimed.

"I very much did," Sarah replied. "Go ahead. Try it on."

Faye quickly stripped off her track suit and underwear, leaving her naked but for the tiny orange tunic she was slipping over her head.  When she had finished tugging it into place, she looked like the spitting image of a genuine Leighton Acres assignee, at least from the waist up.

She began wrapping the narrow strip of loincloth around her bare hips as Sarah intoned the familiar prisoner chant.

After Faye had tucked the end under the waistband, the crest sat precisely over her pubis. "I got it right, right?"

Sarah smiled. "You did fine.  All you need now is a pair of our canvas shoes and we could send you out into the fields."

"The fields?" Faye asked, "You don't think I'd be suitable for the house?"

"No," Sarah said mockingly, "we have beauty standards for the indoor staff.  Sorry."

Faye acted hurt, then reached into the package. "What is the rest of this?"

"I told you," Sarah explained, "You get three sets.  Those are the other two."

Faye looked at Sarah. "Oh, thank you!  But you didn't need to..."

Sarah said to her friend, "Yes I did.  You've done so much for me already."

Faye looked at her outfit, then noticed something still resting in the box. "What's that last package, if you don't mind my asking."

Sarah gave her a quizzical look, then spotted the envelope Faye had seen.  It had Sarah’s name on it.  She tore it open and a slender chain slid out.

"It's beautiful," Faye whispered, "I've never seen a chain like that."

Sarah's mouth hung open. "Yes it is," she said, twisting it in the light, watching it shine, "And it’s custom-made.  It's a model of the chain that Thomas uses on new assignees.  It's the chain he used on me."  Sarah reached around into the small bowl by the couch and retrieved the key Thomas had sent her earlier.  The chain fit neatly through the key's handle.  Sarah reached behind her neck and fastened the clasp into place. The key sat flat against her smooth chest, just below the hollow of her neck. 

The chain that bound her to him now held the key to his heart.

***

Sarah sat in the hard wooden chair, stripped of her garments, waiting for the dean to begin his morning admonishments. As he cleared his throat to begin, she began to feel her heart beginning to race; the feeling of being on a roller coaster preparing to launch. Clink-clink-clink-clink.

"The librarian has instructed me to tell you that she would like to have you back again today.  Apparently the work you did for her yesterday was excellent, and she enjoyed your company."  He looked at another piece of paper, one of several in a stack. He separated one and read from it slowly. "Please extend my sincerest invitation to Sarah to speak to my Government class this morning on the topic of her choice." He then separated out another. "And the art teacher, Mr. Flemish, would like for you to model for his Advanced Watercolors class, and," he said, selecting another piece, "the Video Club has also requested your participation for the remainder of the afternoon."  Without looking down, he turned the next piece of paper towards her. "This is from the Wood Shop. Apparently you've had a positive influence on the female enrollment in the class.  Henry tells me you're quite talented with tools and the other girls have improved their focus considerably. The Biology class has also requested your participation again. And I won't tell you how many submissions the two PE coaches sent me."

Sarah sat in the chair, the chill of the office causing goosebumps on her bare skin.  She shifted slightly, unsure of what to do next.

The dean continued. "And of course, there have been several different student petitions. I'm going to ignore those," he said, tossing the rest of the stack into the trash, "I obviously can't satisfy all of the requests I've received, so I've decided to satisfy none of them. I'm going to assign you to the only class that never requested your participation."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I'm going to send you to the only class that didn't want you.  You're going to the Mechanics Shop."

Sarah looked at him, nodded her understanding and said, "Yes, sir. As you wish."

"Dismissed."

Sarah stood up, turned, and unlatched the door.  She left the private office and passed through the lobby.  Placing her hand on the doorknob, she paused before opening it.  She could hear the buzz of student activity on the other side.  Yesterday she had been assaulted.  She shuddered, thinking of what might be waiting for her today. This was a difficult moment for her; the moment she entered the world naked and vulnerable to its cruelties. 

Summoning her strength, she twisted the handle and pushed.

As the door parted, the first faces she saw were Gap-Tooth and Barney.  Next to them were Chastity, Vella, and Dania.

"Make way, people!" Gap-Tooth barked as the five students formed a tight protective ring around Sarah, "a lady is coming through!"

"Where to, miss?" Barney asked, tipping an imaginary hat.

Sarah smiled. "Mechanics Shop.  And make it snappy."

***

It was a good thing she had a guide to show her how to get there.  She never would have found it otherwise.  Gap-Tooth and the girls had filtered off to get to class, leaving only Barney to escort her. As they walked together towards the Mechanics Shop, they passed what looked like a windowless concrete bunker.

"What's that?" she asked.

"That?" Barney replied, "that's the old music building.  Now they use it for storage.  We have some stuff we built in there, like that frame that breaks necks."

"Do you have a key?"

"Yeah, why?  There's nothing in there but old junk."

"Is there a piano in there?" Sarah asked, getting her hopes up.

"Dunno. Maybe. I've never gone in there looking for one."

"Can I look real quick?"

"Well, we're gonna be late.  Can it wait?"

"Can I at least have the key?"

"Sure," he said sliding the key off the ring latched to his belt, "but you don't have any pockets. Where are you going to put it?"

Sarah took the key in her hand, squatted a bit, then placed her hand between her thighs.

"Oh," Barney said, mesmerized by the sight of Sarah inserting the key into her body, his mouth turning into a slight wince, "You know, that gets passed around a lot."

"The key? Or my..."

"The key."

"I'll wash it. I promise."

"The key? Or your..."

Sarah smiled and replied, "I guess you'll have to smell them both to see which one."

***

The Mechanics Shop was pretty much the same as the Wood Shop; a collection of tools, power cables, hydraulic lifts, and various heavy-duty machine assemblies.  Sarah stood waiting by the door, expecting the teacher to come over and tell her to hide in the office.

"Can I help you, miss?"

A man with an old Germanic beard stood looking at her, wiping his hands on a piece of rag.  His coveralls were covered with stains of various shades of brown.

"I was told I was assigned to you today."

"Huh." the man replied. "I never requested..."

"I know. The dean says you're the only one who didn't.  That's why he sent me here."

"Oh." he said, staring at her naked body; firm thighs supporting a lean tummy and taut torso capped by a gentle face and soft brown hair.  Sarah shifted her hips, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her. As she did so, he snapped out of his trance. "Sorry. Right. Ok, well, right now we're rebuilding this old carousel.  It's a little tricky.  Certainly not something we want a girl with no mechanical skills to try to tackle."

"I know how to cold draw metal," Sarah said abruptly.

The man paused, a look of incredibility crossing across his face. "You can cold draw," he repeated.

"Yes, sir. We used to make our own barbed wire from rolled stock. I would imagine the calliope's sound box wire would be similar, but with tighter tolerances."

"Well you don't say," he replied.  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, "then let's get you some gloves..."

***

Sarah had been drawing the wire through the dies for most of the class; measuring the diameter of the wire and the tensile strength.  Satisfied that she had enough, she went over to the sound box and began to thread the wire through one of the pegheads inside the resonator. Tightening the screw, she plucked the string and listened intently to the tone.

The teacher walked over. "That sounds pretty good!" he said.

"No, it's flat," she replied.  She tightened the screw a bit and plucked the string again.

"Sounds the same to me," the teacher said.

"A bit sharp now," she replied, turning the screw back.  Again she plucked the wire, the naked girl mechanic bracing her elbow against the inside of her thigh as she ever so slightly tapped the key, adjusting the tone.

"Would you care to do the honors?" she asked.

The man smiled and reached for the wire, giving it a pluck.

"You must have magic fingers. It's tuned perfectly now," she said smiling.

"Not bad for a girl," the teacher said, "I'm impressed."

"Thanks," Sarah said. "If that's all you have for me, I'd like to be excused a bit early, so I can go to my next class."

"Sure," the man said, studying the mass of wires she had set on the ground beside the resonator, "but, can you tell me what the next step on this is?"

"Certainly. I've started the middle string.  The next one up is higher, the next one down is lower.  The thicker the wire, the deeper the note.  Just string it according to the diameter of the wire, and if you need help tuning it, I'll be glad to do it tomorrow."

The man smiled and waved as Sarah opened the door.

***

Sarah paused by the old music room and squatted, catching the key as it exited her tunnel.  Slipping the teeth into the slot by the door, she gave a slight push and the metal hinges squeaked open.  Inside, it was pitch black.  She felt along the side of the wall for a light switch, found it, and slid it slowly upward.

A mass of large objects, some covered with dust cloths, were arranged haphazardly around the room. 

Carefully, she began to pick her way around the obstacles, being careful not to step on anything sharp.  She wondered, briefly, if she would find rodents in there.  Naked and confined to an awkward space was not the ideal situation to be in when faced with hungry rats.  She quickly quashed her fear and pressed deeper into the Wood Shop graveyard.

Then she saw it.

It was a concert grand piano, just over two meters long, covered by a dust cloth with numerous boxes stacked on top that simply said, "Records 2010-2012".  With a grunt, she lifted the first one and set it aside.  Then she grabbed the next one, just as heavy as the first, and stacked it on top.  Then the next one found its way on the floor. And the next.

The next one after that was light. Sarah opened it. Empty.

She opened the next one. It was empty, too.  All of the remaining boxes, each carefully marked and sealed, were empty.  She smiled. The subterfuge was clever. Someone had taken painstaking steps to prevent damage to the precious piano.

She pulled the dust cloth off with a flourish.  Underneath was one of the most beautiful instruments she had ever seen; a concert Steinhauser piano, unblemished. Its black finish didn't have a mark on it; its gold-leaf lettering intact.

The cover over the keys was locked.  She felt around underneath the case but didn't find anything.  She then checked the legs, and there, tied to the blind side, was the key.

Soon she had the cover off and had lifted the soundboard's lid.  Inside the strings were still intact. Whoever had set this instrument for storage had known what they were doing.

She ran her finger along the black and ivory keys. It was all she could do to not tap a note, but she knew that if she did, her secret would be out and she - and the rest of the world - might not ever see the piano again.

She quietly closed the soundboard lid, the keyboard cover, and slid the dust cloth over the machine, the wood vibrating slightly like a sleeping giant.  As she stacked the boxes back on top, she promised herself to return that night, after track practice when everyone had left, and play like she had before her mother had died.

***

Given the rest of the day off by the Mechanic Shop teacher, she decided to spend her time visiting those classes she had enjoyed the most.  Her first stop was Miss Harmon, where she delivered a thirty minute presentation - in the nude - on the effects of Keynesian economics on politics and social policy. Next came Art, where she got to see herself reflected in impressionistic watercolors and mixed media.  She spent two periods in the library, trying to finish "A Tale of Two Cities" while chatting with the librarian about Shakespeare's Desdemona and worrying about the future of the library system. She ended her school day with a visit to the Video Club, watching Gap-Tooth and Barney edit and assemble the footage they'd shot the day before.

And then came track practice.

Sarah was already at the stadium, wearing the same red top Faye had given her, barefoot and bare-assed, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive.  Chastity, Vella, and Dania were the first ones out of the locker-room. Seeing their friend waiting, they quickly ran over and hugged her.

"Sarah," Chastity started, "the day you nearly beat my Jimmy. How did you do it?"

"Well, I knew I couldn't beat him in an honest footrace, so I used some clandestine strategy," she replied.  Sarah turned and pointed to certain sections of the track as she explained what a blind turn was.

Meanwhile, Sarah was being observed.

"Do you see what I see?" Coach Bill asked.

"What? It's just Sarah and the girls," Faye replied, "they talk all the time."

"No, look closer," Bill said, "what's wrong with that picture?"

Faye studied the group.  Sarah was pointing down towards the far turns, then back up the track, motioning with her hands like a fighter pilot in a hangar.  The other girls were watching; listening to her as she spoke, studying the movements and mimicking with their hands.

Faye smiled. She began to see what Bill was seeing.  "She's coaching," she replied.

"And they're listening to her," Bill added. "Have they ever listened that hard to you or I?"

"Nope."

"Huh," Bill grunted, the wheels in his brain beginning to turn. "What do you know about her?"

"I know she's the best runner standing on that track right now. I know she knows her stuff inside and out. And I know she can be trusted."

"I'm glad you said that about her being trustworthy.  That's the only reason I haven't done anything yet," he replied.

"And so, I knew I was in trouble when we went into the third turn," Sarah was explaining to her pupils, "because he had the inside line. There was no way I could get inside of him without crossing the boundary line, so I stayed high to conserve my speed while he bled off some of his to keep inside and keep me out.  When we came out of the turn, I actually had more speed, but he had the advantage of distance.  Theoretically, I should've won that race, except I had no kick left when he accelerated away from me. That's always been my biggest weakness."

The girls nodded their understanding.

Coach Bill blew the whistle. Practice was in session.  Sarah turned and began a slow warm-up jog with the rest of the team.  Coach Bill reached out and wrapped his arm around her naked waist.  "Not so fast, you," he said, "I have a bone to pick with you."

Sarah, surprised, stood quietly next to the male coach, wondering what she had done wrong, his hand wrapped firmly around her bare hip. She was concerned that she had somehow offended one of the few people she called a friend at the school.  Chastity and the other two girls looked back to see what was going on, even as they began their trip to the far end.  Chastity gave Sarah a questioning glance. Sarah answered with a worried shrug of her shoulders.

After the crowd had moved off, Bill began speaking. "I was talking with Coach Faye earlier.  She mentioned you wanted to give the girls a special diet to help with their training."

Sarah looked at him. So that was it. "Yes, is there something wrong?  Is that not permitted?  Because I only wanted..."

"Have you ever thought about getting into coaching?"

Sarah paused. "What?"

Bill released his grip on the half-naked woman, crossed his arms, and looked at her.  He repeated himself to her, speaking the words slowly. "Have you considered coaching? The girls listen to you. They relate to you.  They know you can walk the walk, because you've done it right there with them.  And we could certainly use the help. Particularly with the relay and cross-country teams. With just two coaches, we're spread a little thin."

Sarah contemplated the offer. Did she really want to get involved in a competitive program again?  There was a reason she had quit before.  "Let me think about it," she replied.

"Don't think too long. The season starts soon and we need to make some decisions," Bill said, "and we could really use you.  If you want to take coaching for a test ride, there's a clipboard up there in the bleachers with your name on it, along with a whistle, a stopwatch, and the roster.  Feel free to write down your observations and recommendations.  We're all ears.  And it would be my pleasure to write a letter of recommendation to your warden for an early release."

Sarah smiled.  His offer to write the letter was genuine. Faye hadn't told him. He sincerely thought she was a convict and he was still willing to take a chance on her.

She flipped her hair out of her face and said, "Thanks, Coach."

"Call me Bill," he said, "same name as the sandwich and fruit punch."

***

Sarah sat in the bleachers, watching as the girls were put through their paces.  She noted things like stride distance and foot turnover, and how the girls carried their hands.  She also began a tentative list of who would be best suited for which distances, and who a dream relay team would be.  But the thought of the piano in the old music room never left her mind.

When she could stand it no longer, she trotted down to the field and handed Coach Bill her clipboard. "Hi, Bill," she said, "I made some notes here that I hope you'll find useful.  If you don't mind, for the next practice tomorrow I'd like to try these girls in a relay squad, starting in the 100 meter distance and expanding out from there."

Coach Bill scanned the list. "Hmmm. That's about what I had selected also, but in a different order.  Did you want to try it now?"

"No," she said, "I'd prefer to wait until tomorrow. Let them keep doing what they're doing for tonight.  They could use the conditioning.  If you don't mind, I have some things I need to take care of in the Mechanics Shop.  I had left some wires with the teacher and I want to see if he strung them properly. It shouldn't take me long."

"Sure, not a problem. See you in a bit."

Sarah nodded and trotted out of the stadium, waving to her friends as she jogged towards the school, her tight fanny bouncing with her stride.

***

The key was right where she had left it; buried under the dirt next to the building.  She dug it up, cleaned it off, and stuck it in the door; the hinges' creaks seeming to be louder than she remembered.  She flipped on the light and gingerly made her way towards the incongruous shape under the stack of boxes.

She quickly moved the boxes to the floor, unlocked the keyboard case and lifted the lid.  Sitting on the stack of boxes, she took her place in front of the piano. She gently pressed a key.

The resulting hum was beautiful; perfectly in tune.

She tried a different key. It was in tune.  She went up and down the scale. Each key was perfect.

That was a problem. 

Sarah’s eyes narrowed.  An abandoned piano should've been out of tune. Someone had been tuning it.

The door suddenly opened. Sarah instinctively ducked down and slid under the piano.

"Bonjour?"  A man's voice.

She knew she was busted.  Tentatively, she climbed back up.  "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't violate any rules.  I didn't break in. I have a key..." she said, holding it up in the air as she rose up above the mass of abandoned furniture.  "I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I just wanted to play..."

Out of the gloom beyond the room's light a familiar shape appeared. The custodian.  On his belt jingled keys to the locks for the entire school.

He moved through the labyrinth of wood and cloth with practiced footwork, a look of intense rage on his face.  As he drew closer to her, she shrank back in fear against the frame behind the piano. She was naked and defenseless, and now trapped in the back of an abandoned building by a strange, angry man.  She coiled her fists, trying to look tough.  He looked at her, glaring.

Then he sat down.  With his left hand he pressed a perfect harmony of keys and began to sing.

Minuit, chrétiens, c'est l'heure solennelle,

Où l'Homme-Dieu descendit jusqu'à nous

Pour effacer la tache originelle

Et de Son Père arrêter le courroux...

His voice was beautiful, even if she didn't understand the lyrics.  He played a few chords, his talent obviously being his voice and not his playing. But she recognized the tune and tapped him on the shoulder.

She understood his anger. It was a prohibited song.  One of the ones erased from student songbooks for the same reason that the holiday it represented had been erased from annual school presentations, but one that Sarah's mother had played often and had in turn taught Sarah. She considered it one of the most beautiful songs ever written. 

She had discovered his secret.

She took her place at the keyboard as he stepped aside.

She began playing, drawing the bottom harmony with her left hand as her right keyed the top melody.

And she began to sing.

Truly He taught us to love one another;

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;

And in His name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

Let all within us praise His holy name.

She paused, nodded to him, and started over.

Joined now with musical accompaniment, he really let loose, letting the harmony carry his voice high and loud as Sarah matched him, note for note, at the piano. And she saw, in the dusty light of the abandoned music room, his eyes sparkle with the beginning of tears as he lifted his arms to the heavens.

And she started to cry, too.  For her mother. For her father. For her mistakes and the harm she had done.  She cried for all of it.  And she knew she had a lot of work ahead of her.

And she saw why he had, every night, painstakingly tuned the piano before covering it up with cloth and boxes.

The picture was tattered in the corners.  He pointed and spoke about the woman in the picture and the little girl in her arms; obviously his wife and daughter.  Even though she didn't understand the words he was speaking, she knew what he was telling her.  He was telling her about the sadness in his heart.  He was telling her what love truly means.

As he slipped the old photograph back into his pocket she reached up and gave him a hug, her naked body soft and warm against the rough cloth of his uniform.  He hugged her too, gave her a kiss on the top of her head, and said "Bonsoir" before releasing her.  She got up and slid off the seat as he began to fold the cloth over the piano.

***

"Have you been crying?" Faye asked the woman in the track suit leaning against her car.

"Maybe," Sarah replied.  "Faye... I need a solid."

"Haven't I done enough for you already?"

Sarah chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you have.  But I really need to do something. I need to do it tonight.  I need you to take me home. My home."

"But ..."

"It's a lovely evening for a drive to the country, don't you think?" Sarah said innocently.

Farah cocked her hip and crossed her arms. "Sarah, I'm exhausted."

Sarah looked at her. "Please? Do it or I’ll gouge your eyes out," she joked. "I'll accept the coaching offer, but I need you to do two things for me first, and this is one of them."

Faye looked at her suspiciously. "What's the other?"

"It depends on how my conversation goes with my father."

***

Headlights pierced the inky blackness of the night as the car navigated its way along the narrow road. Ancient oak trees hovered overhead like dinosaurs waiting to pounce on the small car, the moss-soaked limbs snaking out like giant arms across the road.  A light fog began to gather in the low-lying areas of the road, concealing hidden dangers.

“Are you sure this is the way?” Faye asked.

“Positive,” Sarah replied.

“I haven’t seen any signs in awhile.”

“You’ll see the glare from my father’s compound as soon as you crest this hill.”

The car began a gentle climb upwards.  As they neared the top, Faye began to see the faint outline of ambient lighting on the horizon.

A few minutes more and they were at the entrance.  A high chain-link fence topped by barbed wire greeted them.  Faye, guided by Sarah, pressed a few keys on the keypad and the gate began to slide open. Faye followed the drive around to a normal-looking building and parked in a spot marked “Visitors”.  The entire area was illuminated in the harsh glow of artificial lights.

“Come on in,” Sarah said darkly, “you can see the family house.”

As Faye exited the car, she noticed the hulk of a burned-out building off in the distance, the steel frame charred and broken. Sarah noticed her looking at it. “That’s one of the first barracks he built here, and one of the cheapest.  It was burned during a riot last year.  Several inmates died when the fire control system failed.  I don’t know why he hasn’t demolished it by now.” Sarah began walking as Faye continued to look at the carcass of the building, imagining the horror of being trapped inside of it while its walls burned. Way out here. Alone.

“C’mon,” Sarah called out, breaking Faye’s trance.

They climbed the stairs leading to the house and Sarah pressed a button.

“Yes?” an electronic voice replied.

“Sarah Siobhan to see Mr. Siobhan.”

“Identification please.”

Sarah pressed her hand against the metal plate.  There was a pause, and then the familiar click-clunk of the electronic locks being released.

Sarah opened the door as Faye followed her in. 

Faye could see that the lobby had once been a living room, complete with fireplace and stone mantel, now refurnished with a cluster of chairs and a few simple tables.  A reception area was off to one side.  Sarah went over to it and pressed another button.  A window slid open and a dark face topped by grey hair began speaking.

“Hello, Ms. Siobhan.  I’ve alerted Mr. Siobhan and he’s expecting you.  You can go on up.”

Sarah turned to her friend. “You’ll have to wait for me here. This is a secure area and you haven’t been processed. Nothing personal. I shouldn’t be long.”

Faye nodded as Sarah disappeared behind the heavy door.

Faye looked around the room. She could see that it was once a charming family gathering place, now converted into a sterile institutional environment.  The life it once held had been killed in the name of corporate efficiency.  She wondered if it could be resurrected. 

Faye began to understand why Sarah acted the way she did; why she was always so quick to lash out.

Thirty minutes later, the heavy door opened and a red-eyed Sarah emerged.  Faye rushed over to her.

“Are you ok?” she asked with concern. 

Sarah simply nodded and wiped at her eyes. “I have to talk to Thomas,” she said between gasps, “I have to talk to him tonight.”

***

Faye drove blindly down the road, guided only by the reflection of yellow traffic dots.  Then, ahead, she saw a simple illuminated sign.  Through weary eyes she made out the familiar Leighton Acres crest and turned as Sarah sat peering out her window, softly breathing and wiping her face with a bit of tissue.

“Go on up to house. There’s covered parking around back,” Sarah said as she unzipped her jacket, slipped it off her shoulders, then wiggled out of her track pants.  Underneath she wore her prison uniform. She reached into the pocket of the passenger door and pulled out the handcuffs as Faye settled the car into a spot and shut off the engine. Sarah snapped the two metal bracelets on her wrists and handed Faye the key. Sarah answered her questioning look with “I’m still a convict, remember?”

Together, the two women walked up the steps to the home, the carved wooden door beckoning them closer.  Lights came on inside the house and they could see a figure moving behind the prismatic glass panes.  Before Faye could reach the knob, the door was opened.

“I’m glad to see you were smart enough to cuff her,” the man said to Faye, reaching out with his arm to invite her in, “she’s liable to cause mischief at any moment.”

“Thomas!” Sarah exclaimed quietly, causing the man to chuckle.

“Thomas Leighton,” the man said, extending a hand towards Faye, “Sarah’s told me so much about you, Coach.  Please, both of you, come into the study.”

Faye shook his hand as Sarah turned towards a room with antique sliding draw doors.  Once they were inside, Thomas beckoned them to sit down.

“I'm prepared to offer up to one bunch of bananas..." he started.

"Thomas," Sarah said, interrupting him, "I just came from my father's place. Dearest, he’s dying.”

Thomas exhaled. “He’s been dead for some time now.”

“No,” Sarah said, “I mean he’s really dying.  He looks so old; so tired. I went to visit him to apologize for my mistakes after Mom’s death, and he was not looking well.”

Thomas leaned forward and rubbed his face, trying to focus. “So what do you propose?”

“Make my father an honest offer and let me take care of him. He’s already named me the sole inheritor of his estate. I can contact the barrister's office and have some papers drawn up to give me control now. He’s receptive to the idea of you taking over his operations, provided you…” Sarah caught herself, hoping she hadn’t said too much.

Thomas grinned. “He told you I asked for his permission to marry you, didn’t he.”

Sarah looked down and smiled. “Yes, and he told me his answer.”

“Well,” Thomas replied, “at least the ring will be a surprise.”

“It’s about time you made an honest woman out of me.”

Thomas chuckled. “Well, I have to get you out of the Program first, dearest."  Thomas slid a file towards his fiancée.  "Here’s the file on the girl I mentioned. I think she’s perfect for the assignment, but give it a look and let me know what you think.”

Sarah accepted the paper file, the chains between her wrists tinkling as she moved the pages. Faye reached to unlock the cuffs, but was stopped by Thomas. “Let’s leave those on a little longer,” he said as Sarah shot him an annoyed look.

The girl’s name was Isparana, from the coastal region of Cilisia.  She was of high school age and had been picked up for theft.  “Theft of edible goods, resisting arrest, battery on a law enforcement officer, damage to state property, damage to personal property, violation of public health code, and solicitation to commit statutory rape?” Sarah asked, “and you think she’s perfect?”

Thomas flipped open another file on his desk and began to read. “Battery on a law enforcement officer, battery without intent to harm, battery with intent to harm, theft of private property, conversion of public property, multiple counts of corruption of a minor, conspiracy, fraud, and grand theft.”  He pointed to the file in Sarah’s hands. “That one stole a sausage from a food booth because she was hungry, and when the owner called the police, they arrested her. When they told her she was going to the psychiatric hospital for evaluation, she tried to escape.  After they had her in the car, she tried to offer her body in exchange for her freedom, and when the officers refused, she spit on them.”

“This one,” he said, waving the file on his hand, “slapped a sworn law enforcement officer - a warden no less – twice, stole a sandwich from a school authority figure, struck at least three minors - possibly more, stole a package of crackers that belonged to the state, was tardy to class twice in as many days, made a student tardy to his class on the third day, has proven herself to be prone to violent outbursts at the slightest provocation, and the most heinous part of it all, she stole my heart.”  He made a face, balancing his hands like he was trying to decide which girl was worse. “Hmmm. It’s a tough call.”

Faye giggled as Sarah looked down at the file in her hands. “Ok,” she said with a grin, “I get your point. There’s more to her than what’s in the arrest report.  Can you give me the short version?”

“She was in school and getting good grades before her parents lost their jobs and were deported when their work visa expired.  She was eligible to stay on a student visa, so she voluntarily entered the foster care system so she could finish working towards her diploma. She ran away from the home – in my opinion, deservedly so – and has been living on the streets ever since, still going to school until the dean realized her report cards were going to a false address. She was about to be sent to a psychiatric institution like the other homeless people that get picked up, but the officers thought she should be brought here instead.  I inspected her myself.  She’s clean.” 

Sarah looked at him. “Can I talk to her?”

“Sure, she’s in the next room,” he said, “and Sarah, she wants to be a competitive runner. I thought you might use that to establish a common ground.”

Sarah got up and handed the file back to Thomas, her wrists still shackled. “Faye, come with me, please? I don’t want to do this alone,” she said as she slid the door open.

The two women entered the hall and walked over to the next door. Sarah slid the door open slightly and peeked inside.

A young woman with long dark hair and tawny skin stood facing the savant's portrait of Sarah that hung on the wall; the eye watching the beautiful woman.  Isparana was dressed in the orange tunic and loincloth of a convict, studying the charcoal sketch, her head tilted slightly with deep thought as she analyzed the multiple layers of the image. Her legs were firm; her body tight and curved with healthy muscle.  Her skin was smooth and unblemished. Silver handcuffs adorned her wrists.

Sarah turned to Faye and whispered, “Oh, Faye. She’s beautiful!”

Faye gave Sarah a slight nudge, indicating she wanted to see.  Sarah moved over as Faye peeked through the crack in the door.  The girl in the orange tunic just stood there, immersed in the portrait.

Sarah slid the doors open.  “That’s me,” she said, entering the room, the light reflecting off the chrome chain between her wrists.

The girl jumped with surprise.  Her wrists were shackled with handcuffs identical to Sarah’s.  She looked nervously at the two women; the prisoner and the coach.

Sarah turned to Faye. “Would you mind?” she said, holding her wrists up.

“No problem,” Faye replied, unlocking the handcuffs. “Her too?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Sarah replied.

As Faye unlocked the girl’s handcuffs, Sarah began speaking. “My name is Sarah.  This is Coach Faye. She’s the girl’s track coach at Stalin High School and we have an offer for you.” 

Sarah sat down in one of the chairs and indicated for the girl to sit as well.  As the golden-skinned girl settled delicately into the leather, Faye moved to stand behind Sarah’s chair. 

“Isparana, I’ve read your file, and Thomas and I think you’re a good candidate for a special program at Stalin High.  I’m going through it now and my term has been very rewarding to me and to the students there.  We’d like to send you there as well, but with one slight difference. My academic eligibility has expired, but you still have yours.  We’d like to send you to Stalin High as both an educational outsource model and as a student.  Your term as a model will be one week, in the nude, performing for various classes. If you can pass that period without serious incident, you can become an enrolled student at the school if you decide you want to stay. If you don’t want to remain there, you can be educated here.  During your time as a model you’ll be confined to the school during the day, and will be staying with Coach Faye at night.  Any other travel will be at Coach Faye’s discretion.  You’ll be allowed to try out for the track team, and if you make it, you will be fed the same food that the rest of the team eats, given the same clothing, and be eligible for the same competitions.  But, there are a couple of things we have to discuss first…”

Isparana looked at her.  “What is that?” she asked in a thick accent.

Sarah smiled. “I will be honest with you if you are honest with me. Promise?”

The girl smiled. “Promise.”

Sarah nodded. “Ok, first you have to promise not to tell anyone that I’m Mr. Leighton’s fiancée.”

Isparana’s eyes grew wide with shock. “You are engaged to the warden?  But… the uniform… the handcuffs… I do not understand.”

“Faye, would you get Thomas please?”

Faye nodded and left the room. A worried look passed over Isparana’s face. “Please, I did not mean to offend…” she began.

“Isparana, it’s ok,” Sarah said, calming the frightened girl, “You’re not in trouble. I’ve been working undercover in the prison and at the school.  I wear the uniform and the handcuffs as a disguise.  Nobody must know who I am except for the people in this room.  Before we send anybody on an assignment, I go first.  If it’s bad, I’ll feel it first so nobody else will.  If it’s good, I’ll recommend it and others will come, just like you.”

“She’s right,” Thomas said, entering the room.

Isparana immediately jumped out of the seat and knelt on the floor, her hands extended in front of her, palms up, waiting to be cuffed.

Sarah glanced at Thomas. “She’s scared to death at the slightest thing!  What have you been doing to her?” she asked angrily.

“That’s not me,” he replied, “She learned that in the foster home at the end of a belt.  Now you know why she ran away. You don’t want to know their in-house rules.”

Isparana tentatively lifted her head, wondering why she wasn’t being cuffed.

“Isparana,” Sarah said gently, “this isn’t a prison. It’s a second chance.”

Thomas smiled. He had told Sarah those exact same words when she was skeptical about his policies; just before she had agreed to be put through his system.

Sarah continued. “We’re giving you the opportunity to be yourself; to grow into the woman you want to be,” Sarah said, “what you do with that opportunity is up to you.”

Sarah stood up and took the girl’s hand, gently lifting her up from the floor.  As Isparana stood there, Sarah looked into her eyes.  They were bright with energy; clean and uncluttered, dancing as the girl tried to read the expression on Sarah’s face.

“Do you like to run?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, very much so,” Isparana replied, “I like to race better.”

Sarah turned and gave Faye a quick glance. “How do you feel about having another mouth for us to feed?” she asked.

Faye smiled. “Well at least I won’t be lonely.”

***

Sarah stood waiting in front of the school, naked, her hands cuffed behind her.  Faye stood next to her.

“Are you sure about this?” Faye asked.

“Yes.”

“You could wear clothing, you know.”

“I know.”

Soon a pair of headlights approached from the road and the familiar chug-chug of the prison van grew louder.  Students began to mill around the entrance to the school, anticipating the arrival of the new Program model, yet warily keeping their distance from Sarah and Faye.

Sarah spotted Gap-Tooth and Barney, and Chastity, Vella, Dania and other members of the track team spread throughout the crowd. She smiled. She had the area covered.

The van pulled up and the doors opened.  Isparana, clad in her prison uniform, belly shackles jingling with each step, was forcefully pushed down the stairs and into the small courtyard by the guard, just as had been done to Sarah.  Sarah stepped forward and caught Isparana before she could fall, then turned and faced the students.

“Students of Stalin High!  This is Isparana.  She will be staying with you for a week as a demonstration model.  After that, she will be a student at this school, but only if she decides you are worthy of her presence.  I would suggest that you take this opportunity to learn what she is here to teach you, and for you to teach her about yourself.  Today, she will be clothed. You will not touch her or force her to do anything she does not want to do.  If you want to see a naked body, you can see mine.  Hers will not be available to you until tomorrow. Starting tomorrow, you will have four days to demonstrate your kindness to her when she is at her most vulnerable.  After that, she will be entitled to do this!”

Sarah quickly dropped to the ground, rolled backwards once, and popped up, her cuffed hands now in front of her. In a flash, she had leaped forward and had the guard pinned against the side of the van, the chains between her wrists garroting him. Grabbing his ears, she slammed his head into the metal skin, then head-butted his nose. Blood began to flow almost immediately. She finished with a quick knee to his crotch, causing him to double over in pain and slump to the ground.

Sarah then turned and faced the shocked crowd.

“If I can do that naked and cuffed, you can imagine what I can do with one of these,” she said, sliding the guard’s enforcement baton out of its sheath.  She raised the ugly black stick up, swung it menacingly a few times, then angrily slammed it to the ground; the hard wood clattering across the pavement. She scanned the crowd, the students shifting with the nervous reaction of what they had just witnessed.  Her point had been made.

Faye stepped forward and unlocked Sarah’s handcuffs, then the shackles around Isparana’s wrists, ankles, and waist.  Gathering the length of chain, Faye tossed them into the van.  Then, together, the three women entered the school, escorting Isparana to the dean’s office while Sarah’s friends formed a wide corridor for them.

***

Sarah sat in her chair, naked, facing the dean.  Isparana stood next to her, wearing the Leighton Acres uniform. Faye was waiting outside.

“Hello, Dean,” Sarah started, “we meet again.”

“Ms. Siobhan, I assure you that, had I known who you were, I …” the dean sputtered.

Sarah held up her hand. “You’ve apologized enough, Dean.  You were simply doing what you thought was best.”

The dean relaxed.  "Please extend my sincerest regards to Mr. Leighton for his acting abilities. He played the role of the guard wonderfully. The blood squib was a nice touch,” he replied.

“Compliments go to your Video Club, Dean. You have a good special effects program.”

The dean’s eyes flicked up towards the dark-haired young woman standing next to Sarah. “And what sort of assignments did you have in mind for your replacement?”

“Put her on the same schedule you put me, for the next three days.  On the fourth day, let her decide which classes she prefers.  Let her explore.”  Sarah looked at Isparana. “Is that ok with you?”

“Yes, thank you,” the girl replied with a smile.

“And today?” the dean asked.

“She’ll be touring the school with me.  I have some people I want her to meet.”

“Fine, fine,” the dean replied, making some notations on Isparana’s file.

“Also, there’s one more thing”, she said.

“Oh?”

“Siobhan Outreach is willing to make a generous donation to reopen the Music Department as a private area of study.  If you concur, I’d like to offer lessons to students, faculty, and employees of this school who might be interested in learning to play classical piano, and improve on their vocal skills in general.”

The dean sat back in his chair. He would be the only school in the district offering such a program. He could see the prestige that would come from being so exclusive. “Certainly,” he replied, “our school is at your disposal.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sarah said, rising out of the chair. “Oh, I almost forgot. Would you please keep my identity a secret for a bit longer?  I want to keep that surprise for myself.”

The dean smiled.  For all he had done to her, she harbored no ill will towards him.  He could see himself working well with her. “As you wish,” he replied.

Sarah opened the door of the private office, crossed the little lobby, and then prepared to enter the school corridor naked for the last time.  She paused, her hand resting lightly on the door knob. She turned to Isparana and said, “Do you enjoy roller coasters?” 

Isparana looked at her quizzically and said, “Yes, I like the thrill, particularly at the beginning.”

Sarah smiled and said, “Clink clink clink clink” and opened the door.

***

Gap-Tooth and Barney were waiting in the hallway when Sarah, Faye, and Isparana exited the dean’s office.

“Sarah,” Gap-Tooth said energetically, “great speech!”

“Should be. You wrote it”, she replied with a grin, “but ‘worthy of her presence’?  Really?”

“Well…” he started.

“I like it,” Isparana said. “It makes me sound royal. Like, ‘Away you dogs! You are not worthy of my presence!’” she said, waving her hands dramatically.

Gap-Tooth looked at Barney, and Barney looked at Gap-Tooth.  They turned and looked at Isparana. “Say, have you ever done any acting?”

“Acting? Like in a play?”

“Yeah, but in a movie.”

“No, but I think it would be fun. Do you make movies?”

Sarah lightly tugged on Faye’s sleeve and they dropped back as the two boys, wearing shirts festooned with ghouls and dragons, escorted the girl in the orange tunic down the hall, talking excitedly about their movie.

“I think that girl is going to fit right in,” Faye whispered.

“Well, the day’s not over yet,” Sarah cautioned, “but the odds are in her favor.”

Just then, two loud smacks rang out.

“Ow!” Sarah cried, spinning around, her hands covering both cheeks of her bare ass.

Chastity and Vella stood behind her, laughing. In unison they shouted “Slacker spank!” before disappearing into the sea of moving bodies.

Faye stifled a giggle as Sarah stood there pouting and rubbing her stinging skin.

***

“Looks like Isparana came with some luggage,” Faye said, plopping the plastic post box on the table in the lounge, “and it’s pretty heavy.”

“Oh good!” Sarah said jumping up, the towel she was sitting on sticking to her bare skin, “It’s my outfit!”

“Your what?  You’re supposed to be naked, you know.”

“Only until the end of the school day.  I have something I need to do after school, and I’d rather do it clothed.”

“Ok, suit yourself.”

“I will, because that’s exactly what I’ll be wearing.  And it will feel soooo good.”

Faye smiled. “I guess it will be nice for you to join the rest of us in the clothes-wearing world. But why is this box so heavy?  Is it a suit of armor?”

Sarah laughed. “No, the suit is a normal suit. There are some extra things in there.”

“Things?  What sort of things?”

Sarah gave her a sly look and shrugged her shoulders. “Just things.”

***

Sarah sat at the piano, lightly playing a refrain from Ravel’s Bolero, smiling at her power of suggestion.

Isparana lay on the floor, naked, her long curls of dark hair flowing across the soft blanket Sarah had given her.  Her prison tunic was rolled up under her head; an improvised pillow as she rested on her back. She was breathing softly, her dark nipples rising with each gentle breath as she lay completely relaxed, her arms splayed out above her head. Her legs were spread obscenely, the pink skin of her snatch dormant in its little slit. Had it not been for the occasional twitch of a finger or slight gasp from her throat, Sarah would have thought the girl was dead.

Faye, seeing the sleeping figure, paused at the door.  Sarah spotted her and nodded for her to come in, beckoning her to come to the piano.  Faye crept across the room silently as Sarah continued to play.

Sliding onto the bench beside her nude friend, Faye whispered “Hi.”

Sarah mouthed her greeting, then flashed a questioning glance, indicating the cloth Faye held in her hands.

“This,” Faye said softly, sliding the stack of folded material onto the black surface of the piano case, “is an outfit she can wear to practice this afternoon.”

“If she ever wakes up,” Sarah cautioned. “She had a long night last night, got up early this morning, and has been going non-stop ever since.  She almost fell asleep standing up until I told her it was ok to lay on the floor while I practiced.  I’ve never met someone who pushes themselves into exhaustion like that.”

Faye looked at her with mock surprise. “I seem to recall spending a few nights driving home while a corpse slept in my passenger seat.”

Sarah smiled, then nodded at the small box Faye had brought in.

“This?” Faye replied, “This is for you. But you’ll have to wait until tonight to open it.  I’m going to make you hold it for the rest of the day, the same way you keep making me hold your surprise packages all the time.  Which, by the way, your newest one is in my car.”

Isparana stirred, moaned slightly, grabbed the edge of the blanket and rolled over onto her side; her fanny uncovered and exposed to the women.

“Cute, isn’t it," Faye remarked "I wish I had an ass like that. Perfect skin, too. It’s so tempting to go down there and spank her right now."

“And I wish I had your arms,” Sarah replied. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll get smacked soon enough; and often. She’s doing relays with Chastity, Vella, and Dania.  Those three are merciless.”

Faye giggled. “Well, tah,” Faye said, deliberately flexing her bicep while giving Sarah a small wave, “I have to go prepare.  Try to have her on the field in time for practice.” 

Sarah grinned as she continued to play. “I will. And thank you for torturing me with the gift box.”

As Faye snuck out the door, Sarah continued to play, each measure of music counting down the minutes until she was officially out of the Program.  During their tour of the classrooms, all of the attention had been focused on Isparana. With a new girl in school, Sarah was yesterday’s news.  Even walking around naked, Sarah was second fiddle.  She was a little jealous, but at the same time ready to assume her new role.  She stopped playing and reached up and toyed with the little key hanging delicately from the slender chain around her neck.

“Ispa-ra-na…” she sang gently, “Ispa-ra-na… wake up dear. It’s time to get dressed for prac-tice…”

The sleeping figure wrapped in the blanket stirred.  An annoyed moan emanated from under the curls of dark hair.

“Ispa-ra-na…”

“Noooo,” the girl moaned sleepily, “I do not want to get up.”

“You must,” Sarah cooed, “You have to get ready for prac-tice…”

The body rolled over onto its back.  A long, sensual arm snaked out and flopped lazily on the floor. “A little more.”

“No,” Sarah said, banging a disharmonious chord, “you have responsibilities. C’mon. Time to get dressed.”

Another arm snaked out of the blanket and began to wipe at the mass of hair draped across the floor.  Sarah heard the damp sound of eyes being rubbed.  Soon, both arms were raised into fists as the body arched and a deep growl drifted from the twisted blanket.  Little pink toenails peeked out from under the fabric, then retreated back under the hem. “I was sleeping so well. I was dreaming I was wrapped in comfortable cloth and listening to beautiful music.”

Sarah laughed at the joke. “Ok, now I know you’re awake. C’mon. Get up and get dressed.”

Isparana clambered groggily to her feet, then let out a squeal of protest as she stood and stretched again, arms spread wide, feet apart, the hairless ridge of her mound of Venus guarded by the curves of her legs. Every muscle in her body tensed and locked, the sinewy lines twisting under her tawny skin as she froze spread-eagled on the tips of her toes, her face twisted in the agony of waking up.  She let out a kitten growl, settled back onto the floor, and started to reach for her prison tunic.

“No,” Sarah said, placing her hand on the pile of clothing from Faye, “Coach Faye brought you these.  She said you should wear them for practice today.”

Isparana stood where she was and held out her hands, indicating that Sarah should throw them to her.

“No,” Sarah said with a grin, “you’re a big girl. You can come get them and dress yourself.”

Isparana groaned again as she walked over to the piano and lifted the articles from the piano.

“You know,” Sarah smiled, “you’re a lot like me.  I think we will either be best friends, or bitter enemies.”

“Let us not fight,” Isparana said, unfolding the first piece of cloth, “I like you too much.”

“Ok,” Sarah replied with a laugh.

Isparana examined the first few pieces of clothing, then selected one and slipped it over her head, the soft mounds of her breasts stretching her nipples into dark ovals as she raised her arms.  It was a red jogbra, very similar to the one Sarah had worn, but with a different logo. Next she selected a pair of form-fitting black shorts and pulled them along her well-toned legs until the fabric rested neatly around her hips. “Very nice,” she said, “you like?”

Sarah studied the girl as she turned her body. “Yes, it’s very sporty.”

Isparana smiled. “Ok, I’m ready.”

“Shoes,” Sarah said sternly.

“Shoes? Where?” Isparana asked, looking around.

Sarah tapped a box on the floor by the piano. “Try these. They’re my favorites. There are some socks inside, too.”

Isparana knelt down and opened the box.  Inside was a pair of custom pink running shoes with “Isparana” stitched neatly into the heel.

Isparana’s head snapped up to look at Sarah, a big smile on her face. “Thank you!” she screamed as she jumped up and hugged Sarah tightly.

“You’re welcome,” she laughed as Isparana clung to her.  The two girls swayed as Isparana danced with joy.  “Ok, ok,” Sarah said, patting Isparana’s perfect fanny, “time for me to get dressed, too.”

***

A lone figure sat in the bleachers, a red dot in a sea of parallel grey lines set against a sky of grey clouds, watching the long line of runners as they trudged around the track.  A clipboard was balanced on his knee and a whistle hung around his neck.  He was focused on the chronometer on his hand, recording the numbers as the sagging runners crossed the line painted on the rubber mat below him.  It was old-fashioned, but he didn't trust the new timing chips.

"Hello?"

The coach turned towards the sound of a female voice.  The woman stood tentatively at the foot of the bleachers. He didn’t recognize her. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Hi. I'm here about the coaching position?"

"Huh?  What coaching position?"

"I understand that the school is looking for a new track coach?"

"There must be some mistake. I'm the track coach!"

The well-dressed woman stepped closer, slowly climbing the steps. "You are?"

"Yes," Coach Bill said, becoming slightly concerned, "I think you've been misinformed."

"No, I'm pretty sure I know who I'm talking to. Do you?"

Bill held his hand up to his forehead, blocking the glare as the woman lifted her sunglasses. Suddenly the expression on his face changed. "Sarah!"

She laughed and came rushing up the stairs as fast as she could in her dress shoes; the narrow heels clanging against the reverberating metal slats.  He extended his hand towards her as she squealed with excitement and raced up towards him. As she reached the last step, she ignored his proffered handshake and gave him a big hug instead; squeezing him hard.

Bill laughed. "Well, it's good to see you, too!"

Sarah turned and kissed him on the cheek. "Did I have you fooled?"

He laughed again. "Yes. I didn't recognize you with your clothes on. I figured either you were confused or I was fired, and neither option was very appealing."

Sarah pulled back, still smiling. "If the offer still stands, I'd like to take you up on it."

Bill nodded.  "I'll talk to the dean."

"I already have."

He looked at her. "You have?  But..."

"He was in complete agreement with me.  He wants me to start tonight. I already have my credentials", she said, presenting the little yellow card.

"How did you get approval? There's a background check, and you have a record. I know there's a forgiveness policy for certain things, but..."

"Yeah," Sarah said, interrupting him, "about that.  I may have led you on about those 'certain things', and I think I need to confess my sins.  The truth is, I'm clean.  I was never a convict.  I am, in fact, going to become the interim warden of Siobhan Penitentiary on Monday."

"You're what?"

"My name is Sarah Siobhan.  Maybe you'd recognize me if I explained it in track terms. That's how Faye recognized me. I was third in State my freshman year.  And my sophomore year. And my junior year.  And my senior year. After graduation, the other two girls ahead of me went to the National team and I got out of racing completely.  Whenever someone does a story about wash-ups, has-beens, and quitters, they usually mention me."

Bill snapped his fingers. "Now I remember you!"

Sarah looked down, nodded her head, and smiled. "Faye recognized me right away.  I made her swear to secrecy. Please don't be mad at her."

Bill laughed. "I won't.  I probably would've done the same thing.  But... a warden?"

Sarah pulled out another credential and handed it to him.

"Ok, I guess you are. So why put yourself through the Program?"

"Because Leighton Acres isn't about punishment, it's about second chances, and for me, opportunities for redemption.  We put me through the Program as a trial, to see what would happen.  And now I've come out the other side stronger for it. We have another girl here, now," she said looking in the direction of Isparana. "She has promise.  I think she'll do ok in the Program and I'd like to be the one that works with her, if you don't mind."

"Not a problem, Coach Sarah.  There's just one thing."

Sarah looked at him, concerned. "What's that?"

Bill cleared his throat. "You still owe me a sandwich."

Sarah laughed. "Ok, I’ll make you a sandwich."

"Don't want a sandwich. I want a championship."

Sarah paused. "You don't mess around, do you."

"Nope.  Can you give me a championship?"

"Give me Ispy, Chastity, Dania, and Vella, and I'll give you a victory in every relay distance up to 1600 meters at the Invitationals."

Bill looked at her, his eyebrows raised in shock. "You know the preseason Invitationals is in a week, right?"

"Yeppers."

He stepped back and put his hands on his hips.  He studied her. "And how can you be so certain?"

Sarah grinned. "Because I'm goooood."

"Is Isparana eligible?"

"Yep. She still has her high school eligibility intact.  We checked on it.  The only question is whether she can run. She hasn't exactly been training like the other girls."

"Care to make it interesting?"

Sarah looked at him. "What've you got?"

"A concert grand piano.  I used to be the music director."

Sarah's mouth fell open.

Bill nodded. "That's right. I heard you play; you and the custodian.  Did you know he used to sing professionally?  Then he was blacklisted. Political witch hunt during the Persecutions. Lost his wife and daughter. Tragic really. I found him and gave him a job here.  It's not much but at least he can sing at night."

Sarah was impressed.  There was more to Coach Bill than she thought. "I want that piano, Bill. I'm starting an outreach program based on it."

"Then you better win," he said with a smirk.

"You're serious aren't you?"

"Was Pagliaccio a clown?  If I make you work for it, you’ll appreciate it more."

Sarah thought for a second. He had a point. "Ok, so what if I lose? I have to practice naked or something?"

"No, I've seen you naked. You're not all that."

Sarah punched him in the arm.

Bill laughed, then said, "Ok, ok.  How about if you lose... you make a scholarship endowment for the arts."

"No, because I might do that anyway. It's gotta be something I don't want to do."

"Ok," Bill said, "then if you lose, you have to let the entire team give you a slacker spanking."

Sarah thought about it.  She remembered how much her ass had smarted from the double-smack she had received earlier that day. "That would work."

***

Sarah stood off in the distance, basked in the yellow rays of the setting sun, watching the interaction of Isparana with the other girls as they enjoyed their mid-practice break after some drills under Faye's guidance.  Faye had once said that Sarah had a glow about her, as if Faye knew Sarah was destined to do something special.  Sarah now understood what she meant. Isparana had it, too; the perfect blend of internal and external beauty that could not only survive any ugliness it encountered, it would conquer it.

She had a plan. She knew exactly what she wanted to do and how to get there.  Now she just had to put the pieces together and teach them.  She had to teach them in a way that would wake them up and unleash their potential.  She had their minds. Now she needed their hearts.  She smiled. This would be fun. She started walking towards the team. Her team.

Sarah had changed out of her business suit and into something more practical; a generic black track suit, sunglasses, and custom running shoes with “Spank My Ass” stitched into the heel.  The girls saw her coming, eyeing her warily as she drew closer, but not recognizing her. Dania was staring right at her and had no idea who she was. Vella glanced at her. So did Chastity. Isparana had her back to her and didn’t turn around until Sarah’s shadow passed over her shoulder.

Without saying a word, Sarah stopped and lifted her sunglasses.

“Sarah!” Suddenly all of the girls were hugging her, telling her how she had creeped them out a little, like a stalker, in the black track suit.

“This?” Sarah replied. “Maybe I should take it off, then.”

She bent over and unzipped the legs on the pants and pulled the fabric over her shoes.  Underneath, she was bare-assed. Dania started laughing. 

“Are you laughing, Dania? My feelings are hurt,” Sarah said in her best overly dramatic way. “Maybe you should take your shorts off, too."

Dania snickered.

"You know I'm your coach now, right?"

"You are?"

"Yep. I'm also something else.  Tell them Isparana."

Isparana looked at her new friends and said flatly, "She is not a convict.  She is a warden."

The trio of girls stood like statues, staring at the woman who, just yesterday, had been the lowest form of life on the school's social ladder.

"Are you kidding?" Dania asked.

"No. Now take off your shorts."

Dania looked at her. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I said take them off before I gouge out your eyes!" Sarah yelled.

Dania stopped smiling. Sarah glared at her, her sunglasses so close to the frightened girl that her breath was fogging the lens. Sarah was coiled like a snake, her fists tight and ready to bloody the smaller girl. Dania quickly pulled her shorts down over her shoes.

Sarah then turned to Chastity. "I remember being forced to bend over bare-assed while you ordered your boyfriend to rape me like a dog."

A look of fear passed over Chastity's face.

"Take your shorts off!"

Chastity hooked her thumbs in her waistband, slid the material down her legs, and soon the scrap of polyester was sitting by the side of the track.

Next she turned to Isparana. "I know I don't need to tell you twice."  Soon, Isparana's new black shorts were in the growing pile of discarded clothing, too.

"Vella?  Is there something special about you that you get to wear yours?"

Vella looked at Sarah, scared to death. She bent over and rolled her shorts down her leg.  She tossed her shorts on top of the little stack of synthetic cloth.

"Line up on the boundary line, facing me," Sarah barked.

The girls shuffled over to the inside line and turned.

"Isparana, come here and show your team what the inspection pose looks like."

The dark-haired girl moved over to Sarah, then turned and faced the other three girls.  She put her hands behind her head and locked her fingers. She quickly spread her legs apart; the pose rendering her body open and vulnerable.

"Everyone, inspection pose!"

Quickly the other three girls moved into position, shuffling their feet as they separated from each other.

Sarah then moved behind each girl, finding fault in each girl; pulling Vella's arms back and straightening her posture, kicking Chastity's feet wider, locking Dania's fingers tighter.

Isparana stood there, watching her new friends assume the position she had been forced to assume many times.

Sarah reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a tube of lipstick.  She ran the colorful cosmetic around her lips, then smacked them audibly.

"Isparana, go stand behind Chastity."

Quickly the Cilician beauty obeyed the order, resuming the inspection position as Sarah glared at the other three girls shifting nervously on the track.  After a few uncomfortable minutes of watching the girls fidget, Sarah walked over and stood next to Isparana.

"Relax," Sarah said softly to the frightened girl, "and give me your hand."

Isparana, unsure of what was going on, slowly dropped her hands.  Sarah uncapped the lipstick and put the tube in Isparana's fingers, then pressed the lipstick tube against Chastity's ass.  Sarah looked at the dark-haired beauty, and winked.

Isparana smiled as Sarah, her hand over Isparana's, carefully wrote "Spank" on Chastity's left cheek, "My" just above the cleft, and "Ass" on her right cheek.

Next, it was Vella's turn.

Vella shifted slightly as the cold tube pressed against her skin; Isparana not needing to be told what to write.  Vella could feel something being drawn, but she didn't know what.

Dania tried to sneak a peek at what was going on, but Sarah had positioned herself to block the girl's view. Dania closed her eyes as Sarah and Isparana moved behind her.  Soon the cold tube had left its message on her backside.

"Go stand in front of the team, in the inspection position," Sarah said.

Isparana obediently did as she was told.

Sarah turned to the trio of girls she had just marked.

"Ladies, turn and look at what has been written on your asses."

Dania started laughing as Chastity and Vella giggled.

"Now you each get to write one word on Ispy's ass."

Isparana closed her eyes and smiled nervously as the other three girls, giggling, took their turns marking her bottom.

"Ok everyone, listen up.  For the next week I'm going to ride you hard at practice because I expect your full effort every time we run.  You are a team of four. If one girl fails, you will all fail.  After every practice we will determine who is slacking, and she will get the infamous 'slacker spank' from everyone on the team, including me. Stalin has a reputation of coming up short in the relays. So do I. Four years of it. That ends now, tonight. This year, we will not lose!"

The girls looked at her, ready to work.

"Now, I know exactly what each of you are capable of doing. I know this because you've done  it while racing me."  Sarah held up a single finger. "Except one.  Isparana. I've never seen you run. We're going to fix that right now.  You will have a 10-second head start. You must run the entire length of this track.  If just one of your teammates catches you, they will all spank you. Understand?"

The girl shifted her weight nervously, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as she prepared to sprint, and nodded.

"Ok... go!"

Isparana took off like a raven-haired missile, her legs driving her body down the track at maximum speed.  Sarah counted down from 10, then released the other three girls, their excited squeals intermingling as they chased their friend.

Sarah laughed at the sight of three firm bottoms bouncing down the track with "Spank My Ass" written across the flexing cheeks, chasing a fourth one,  her perfect skin marred only by big red letters written by three different hands.

Sarah studied the way Isparana moved, her arms pumping and her legs driving.  She had a natural lean to her form.  She was as close to perfection in motion as Sarah could imagine.  She was a natural runner.  And she had almost been sent to a psychiatric hospital not because she was crazy, but because she was poor.  Sarah was glad she had been saved from that fate, because she was definitely someone worth saving.

Not only did the other three girls not catch her, Isparana actually increased her lead.

Isparana hit the last straightaway, the sun beaming behind her, and charged full speed at Sarah who stood at the line with her arms crossed, watching.  The dark-haired beauty blew across the line with a smile on her face.  She would not be spanked today.

"Impressive," Sarah said.

"I feel good," Isparana said in between breaths, "That was fun.  We should do. Again tomorrow."

Just then, the other three girls, almost simultaneously, crossed the line gasping as they decelerated, their legs absorbing their speed.  They began to parade in circles, their hands on their hips, their lungs gulping air.

"I win!" Isparana said in a small cheer to her teammates, drawing acknowledging smiles from the girls. 

Dania was the first to turn and offer her ass to Isparana. Vella and Chastity followed her cue and bent over as well, all three girls dutifully presenting their pert bottoms, ready to receive their punishment for losing, even as their bodies panted for oxygen.

"No," Isparana said waving her hand, "You are my friends. I do not want to hurt."

Sarah looked at her. "No, Ispy. It's ok. Go ahead."

"No," Isparana repeated, "I know what it is to hurt. It is not ok. They tried very hard."

The three girls looked at each other, then at Isparana. “Ispy, we’re just playing...” Dania started to say, offering her bottom to the girl.

“No,” Isparana repeated, “I do not hurt my friends.”

Sarah shrugged her shoulders, "Ok, it's your decision."

Isparana nodded, gasped for air, and said "We are done for today?"

"No," Sarah said, "You still have one more runner to beat."

The four girls turned and looked at her.

Sarah unzipped her jacket, revealing  a blue racing top with "Ascension" written across the front.  "Me against all four of you. Winner gets to spank the losers."

Isparana dropped her head, her arms hanging loosely as she tried to recover from her race. "Noooo," she begged, "I am too tired. It would not be fair."

"I'll do it."

Sarah turned. It was Coach Faye, walking with the sun at her back.

"I told you I wanted a rematch," she said, "and now is as good a time as any, Ascension whore."

"Let's see what you got, Stalin skank."

"I got enough."

"Show me."

Faye stepped to the side of the track and unzipped her track suit. Underneath she wore a white Stalin High practice singlet emblazoned with a red stallion at full gallop and matching shorts. "Ready to go when you are, whore."

"Bring it, skank."

"Are you the betting type?"

"What are you thinking?" Sarah replied.

"Winner gets to spank any girl who gets beat, including these four hussies who think they're too tired to run another race."

Sarah surveyed the four winded girls and smiled. "You're on."

The four girls groaned, but lined up on the line, their tight red-marked bottoms shifting as they assumed their positions on the track.

Sarah gave the call. "Ready!... Set!.... Go!"

Six runners exploded from the line; Isparana taking an early lead with Sarah close behind and Faye right there with her.

And up in the darkness of an empty press box, a tired old man, recently relieved of his responsibilities, was telling his dead wife that he was proud of their daughter; proud of her because she was bringing beauty back to an ugly world. 

***

“You guys would make a great picture.”

Sarah turned around.  Faye was standing by the splashguard, the little silver box in her hand raised towards the five naked runners lined up in the shower.  Traces of red writing were still evident on four pert bottoms.

“You wouldn’t...” Sarah warned.

“If I did, would you gouge out my eyes?”

The four girls immediately started laughing.  A scowl appeared on Sarah’s face, soon replaced by a smile.  She turned around and went back to bathing, smiling and shaking her head as she rinsed the soap from her body.

“Maybe I should shoot video instead,” Faye continued, panning the lens across the five wet women.  She pressed a button on the box and began speaking. “This is the last known chronicle of Faye Culp. If you don’t hear from me in three days, assume the worst has happened. Hopefully this recording will survive my impending demise...”

Vella playfully squirted some water from her cupped hands at Faye, who backed away laughing, leaving the five naked ladies giggling as they washed the evening’s exertions from their bodies.

Isparana smiled and looked at Sarah. “I like you.  Even when you try to be mean, you are funny.”

Sarah looked at her. “I don’t scare you?”

“Maybe a little.  But I do what you tell me anyway, so it does not matter. I try harder because I like you and do not want to disappoint you, not because I fear you.”

Sarah thought about that for a second.  Isparana had a point.  The raven-haired girl next to her had just taught her the first lesson in effective leadership. It explained why Leighton Acres, based on respect, had succeeded where her father’s operation, based on fear, had struggled.

Sarah looked down the row of naked females.  These girls were trusting Sarah to make the right decisions for themselves and for the team.  For a second, Sarah doubted herself.  She felt the burden that Thomas felt every day; the burden of being responsible for another person’s life.

Vella was washing the lipstick off Dania’s bottom, the shorter girl bending over slightly and raising her butt so that Vella could access the writing easier.  Isparana noticed what they were doing, tapped Chastity on the shoulder, and nodded in their direction. Isparana quickly squirted some soap into her hands and began to scrub Chastity’s upturned cheeks.

The way Chastity was bent over, offering herself to Isparana, reminded Sarah of how Chastity had fingered her when Sarah had been bent over the fence.  Sarah decided it was time for some revenge.

Sarah tapped Isparana on the shoulder and nodded for her to step aside as Sarah seamlessly placed her hands where Isparana’s had been.  Chastity remained bent over as Sarah’s hands scrubbed her tender bottom, changing direction and intensity at random intervals.  As Sarah continued to scrub, Chastity became concerned.

“Is it really that difficult?” she asked, starting to turn around.

Sarah quickly splashed some water towards her face, prompting the girl to turn back around, and said in her best Isparana accent “It is too thick. I must scrub some more.”  Then, Sarah let a finger slip between the girl’s cleft, eliciting a yelp and a twitch from Chastity. “Sorry,” Isparana said over Sarah’s shoulder, playing along with the game.

Sarah continued to scrub, the occasional finger slipping between Chastity’s slick thighs, each time causing the girl to flinch as Sarah tickled her labia.  “Oh!” she would cry, followed quickly by a “Sorry!” from Isparana.  Soon Vella and Dania had turned around to watch the show; Chastity bent over, one arm pressed against the shower wall, as Sarah continued to scrub her bottom and finger her twat.

“Oh!”

“Sorry!”

“Oh!”

“Sorry!”

Vella and Dania began to laugh as Sarah continued to finger Chastity’s young vulva.  After being poked and prodded a number of times, Chastity stood up, saying, “Ok, what’s going on...?” just as Sarah made a beeline for the changing area, laughing the whole way with Isparana close behind her.

***

Sarah woke up to the sound of Isparana cooing to her.

“Coach Sa-rah... time to wake for prac-tice...”

Practice?

Sarah cracked a bleary eye.  She was in the back of Faye’s car and they were parked in a garage.

Isparana giggled. Not practice; Faye’s apartment.

Sarah playfully slapped at the girl’s arm.

Faye had Sarah’s postal box on a small luggage dolly, wheeling it to the elevator. Isparana dashed to catch up to her. Sarah, groaning, pulled herself out of the backseat and closed the car door as the elevator chimed its arrival.  She quickened her pace and threw herself into the elevator cabin.

“Ten, please,” she said.

Faye pressed nine. “You must be delirious. I’m on nine.”

“I want to show you something on ten.”

“I’ll drop this off in my apartment, then.”

“No, bring it to ten,” Sarah said.

The doors opened on nine. Nobody moved. The doors closed and opened again on ten.

Sarah got out, her designer heels clopping on the wood floor, the two rubber-soled women following along behind her. Finally she stopped in front of a door trimmed in complimenting wood strips and placed a passkey in the slot.  There was a beep and the door opened.  Sarah held the door open and turned to Faye. “You first.”

Faye gave her a curious look, reached inside the doorway and felt for a light switch.  Suddenly the room was bathed in light.

“Oh, wow.”

Faye slowly walked into the apartment, followed by Isparana. Sarah hung back, letting the two women take it all in.

They were standing in a small hallway with doorways to the left and right.  Isparana went left and Faye went right. To the left was an undecorated room with soft carpeting and recessed lighting that opened to the larger living area.  To the right was a kitchen with two refrigerators, two ovens, an automatic dishwasher, and dish dryer.

“Look at the kitchen!” Faye said.

“Look at the city!” Isparana said, standing in the empty main living room.

“I guess I’ll have the three bedrooms all to myself then,” Sarah said, leaning casually against the hallway door.

Faye and Isparana both took off, looking for the bedrooms. Soon, voices echoed from various locations throughout the apartment.

Faye came back first. “So how much is this going to cost me?” she asked.

Sarah pushed herself away from the wall and casually clasped her hands behind her back. Assuming an innocent pose, she replied “About three girls a school year, possibly four if the right candidates come along, plus food from our farm, a clothing stipend, and a weekly allowance for incidentals.  The actual amount will fluctuate with seasonal changes in funding. There will be, of course, a requirement that you remain committed to coaching competitive sports, if not at Stalin High then privately.”

Faye gave her an uncertain look. “You mean...”

“If you agree to take on this responsibility, you’ll be the pioneering sponsor of the Siobhan Racing Outreach Program, dedicated to providing promising young athletes the opportunity to develop their full academic and athletic potential alongside competitive athletes and licensed instructors.”

Faye was stunned. "I can still teach for the school, right?"

"Yep.  I'm counting on it.  This is intended to compliment the work you already do, not replace it."

Isparana wandered back into the room.  “You mean I can stay here?”

Sarah looked at her. “If Faye says you can. It’s her call.  Otherwise you can come back with me every day and sleep in the stables with the others. But she’ll have to find at least one promising young student athlete to keep her company here.”

Faye cupped her chin in her hand, pretending to be deep in thought. “Let me see... do I know any promising young athletes who need a good home...”

Isparana smiled meekly and raised her hand. “Please?”

“Ok,” Faye said, “otherwise Sarah might gouge my eyes out.”

Isparana laughed as Sarah rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you.”

“Nope.”

“Then maybe I won’t tell you about the furniture.”

Faye looked around the empty apartment. “I guess my stuff would be a little small.”

"And right now that's all you have. We'll have to spend tonight in your apartment until our interior designer can arrange to have some things delivered here."

"Interior designer?" Faye asked.

Sarah nodded. "Yes.  If something is going to have my name on it, I want it to be seen as quality work. Right now I have a steep mountain to climb to do that. For the last four years my father’s operation has been known for its barbarism. For the last four years I’ve been known as a bust and a quitter.  I want people to think that the name 'Siobhan' means a better standard, and I've got years of damage to undo."

"I thought your name was going to be 'Leighton'?"

Sarah smiled. "It will be. I hope. But this is my cross to bear, not Thomas'. Besides, if 'Leighton' is plastered all over the place, people might get annoyed."

***

Isparana lay on the floor, her long dark hair streaming across Faye's carpeting, a towel under her nude body.  Her knees were bent with her feet on the floor and her hands where down around her bare hips.  

Sarah, clad only in a borrowed shirt, was on the couch reading "A Tale of Two Cities" while Faye cleaned up the detritus of dinner and unpacked the groceries from the postal box.

"So," Isparana began, "you did this Program?"

"Yep," Sarah replied, "Are you afraid?"

"No, I have been forced to do worse," the girl replied, "at the foster home, it was bad.  I do not think it will be bad at the school. I have friends now to help me."

"And you have me," Sarah added.

"And me!" Faye said loudly from the kitchen.

Isparana smiled. "How can I lose with such friends?"  The girl inhaled and slowly rolled her hips upward, her hairless mound rising into the air as she braced herself against the floor, the muscles of her lean tummy rippling with the movement of her hips.

"Ispy," Sarah asked, "when I was there, nobody knew who I was.  That was the only thing I had to protect me. I think if people had known who I was, it would've been worse for me.  I could hide behind my anonymity. But now they know that you are with me, so in a way, you might have a tougher go of it than I did.  And, I won't always be there to protect you.  There will be times when you'll be alone.  There will be times when you will have to fight."

"I do not like to fight," Isparana replied, rolling her hips down, "I will be smart instead, like how you make us girls take off our shorts at practice by pretending to be mean.  It was good acting." She inhaled sharply as she rolled her hips upward again, thrusting against the air, the cheeks of her ass tightening with effort. She held the position, then slowly lowered herself down, exhaling as her body returned to its spot on the floor. She lay there, gasping as her golden skin glowed from her exertion.

“Thirty seconds and then thirty more,” Sarah commanded without bothering to look up from her book.

“Nooo-ooo,” Isparana whined, “I am so tired.”

“Stop being a baby. Do it or I’ll gouge out your eyes.”

The girl lying on the floor started laughing. “Ow! Ow! Stop being funny! It hurts too much.”

“Awww,” Faye said, exiting the kitchen, “Poor thing is tired...” She shuffled over to where Isparana lay on the floor and crouched down, her knees framing the girl’s head. Faye began to stroke the dark curls delicately, comforting the girl. “Is Coach Sarah being mean to you again?”

“Yes,” Isparana whimpered, “she is making me work too hard on exercises.”

“I know, I know. She can be so cruel sometimes to my baby...” Faye said motheringly, her hand gently massaging the girl’s face, wiping away imagined tears, “but just a few more and you will be finished. Ok? Be a good girl...”

Isparana stuck out her lower lip in a pout, then began to raise her hips again.

Sarah closed her book, placed it on the floor, and settled in comfortably on the couch.

Isparana lowered herself back onto the floor, exhaling at the same time as Sarah.  Isparana glanced over at the figure of her coach lying on the sofa, then looked up at Faye.  Faye twirled her finger in a circle, signaling the girl to continue her exercises as Faye studied the resting woman.

Isparana rolled her hips up again, her muscles twisting under her skin as she brought herself up into the air, her slit smiling back at her between her two dark nipples as the city skyline twinkled between her knees.  She held her position for a moment, then lowered herself back down, exhaling silently as a more audible exhalation came from the woman on the couch.  Isparana looked at Faye knowingly. Faye smiled and nodded.

A soft snore soon came from the near-dead woman.

“Ispy,” Faye asked softly, “what is it really like in prison?”

“Prison?” the girl replied, shrugging her shoulders, “I do not know. Coach Sarah would know.”

“Well, what was it like at Leighton Acres?”

“Mr. Thomas is very nice man. Very firm, but is ok to me. I was only there two days and he treated me very nice.  Other than handcuffs when I meet with you, I was never locked. Not like in the foster home.”

“Wait. How long were you there?”

“In the foster home?

“No, at Leighton Acres.”

“Just two days. Instead of the station, the police take me directly to him. I was very scared. I think maybe I am being taken to slave camp because I am not a citizen.  After I was inspected, he tells me I am safe; that everything is ok, but still I do not know the truth.  All I think is foster home or slave camp.”

“The inspection,” Coach Faye asked tentatively, “what exactly do they do?”

Isparana looked at the landscape of lights out the window between her knees. “I do not want to discuss it. It makes me uncomfortable. Mr. Thomas is nice and explains why it is necessary, but I still do not like it.  Afterwards I was given many tests, like in school, for rest of the day but I am very tired and cannot complete them. He puts me in a room with a nice bed and a big window.  He gives me some paper and tells me to write a letter to my family, so I do.  There was a mirror and I think maybe I am being watched, so I do as I am told.  The next day, I wake up and it is daylight. I am surprised that nobody has come for me or told me anything.  I go to the door and it is unlocked!  Like I could escape if I wanted to. Very surprising. So, I open the door and there is my uniform, a box of food and juice, and a note that says I should call Mr. Thomas when I am ready to start the day.  I eat and dress and I call for Mr. Thomas and he explains the rules of the farm and talks with me and asks me many questions; about me, about my family, what I like to do. Then, he gives me the other tests and I have to give the right answers.  Then he comes back and asks me more questions about my ambitions; what I want to do with my life.  I think it very strange, like maybe some sort of trick, but I answer truthfully anyway. The rest of the day I am left alone in the room so I write some more and I read some books he gave me."

Isparana paused as Sarah shifted on the couch.  After Sarah's breathing settled back into a rhythmic pattern, Isparana lowered her voice and continued.

"And then, in middle of the night, I am awoken by guards who say Mr. Thomas wants to see me. So, I am handcuffed and brought to the main house. Because it is middle of the night, I think ‘Ok, this is not good. I am being sent to slave camp now.’  He puts me in a room in the house but before he can say anything, there are lights coming from the road so he tells me to wait and he closes the door.  I think 'Oh no, it is the slave bus. I am doomed.' But, he did not lock the door, so I opened it a little and I see who is coming.  It is you and Coach Sarah and she is handcuffed and wearing a prison uniform like me. She is very pretty, but looks very sad and very anxious.  She is in misery and I think if someone so beautiful is so miserable, then it will be very bad for me."

"Well, what did you think of me? I wasn't in a guard's uniform."

"I think maybe you are some sort of guard, because Coach Sarah is in a prisoner uniform and handcuffed and you are in an athletic suit.  So I try to hear what is going on in the other room, but I hear nothing, so I look at the picture on the wall.  It is a very good picture; like two pictures in one, and at first I think it is the eye of a guard watching a woman prisoner. But, I look closer and I think maybe it is not a guard, but someone who is in love with the woman in the picture. And then, Coach Sarah comes in and says the picture is her.  You come in with her and she tells you to take the handcuffs off.  I am very confused now, because what kind of convict can tell a guard to take her cuffs off?  And then you ask her if you can take my cuffs off, too!  What? I am very surprised and confused. So then she explains it to me, but I do not believe it. I think maybe it is some sort of test." Isparana laughed. “I did not know the truth. Next day, we are at school and I see that you and Coach Sarah told me the truth, so I am happy because I can race and make new friends and get my diploma.” Isparana paused in her narrative. “Can I ask questions now?”

Faye smiled. “Ok.”

Isparana looked at her. "What did you think when you saw me first?"

"I didn't see you first. Sarah did. Just like you, she cracked the door open a little to spy."

"Oh," Isparana replied, "Did she say anything about me?"

Faye smiled, still stroking the girl's hair.  "I remember exactly what she said. She said 'Oh, Faye! She's beautiful!'"

"Really?" Isparana said, beaming, “She said that?"

"Hm-mmm," Faye answered with a nod.

Isparana smiled. "Can I ask another question?"

"Sure"

"How long have you and Coach Sarah been friends?”

“About a week.”

“Just a week?” Isparana said with surprise, “You two act like close friends for very long time.”

“Well, we used to compete against each other for different schools.  She was always faster and I hated her for it.”

“So, you hate her for four years and now you like her after just a week?”

“Yes.  She’s easy to like once you get to know her.”

“And she always wins against you, except today?”

Faye glanced at the girl.  Isparana was looking at her, her dark eyes shining in the muted light of the small apartment.

“Yes. Why?”

Isparana turned and looked at the sleeping woman on the sofa, then smiled as she began to roll her hips upwards again. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“No,” Isparana said quickly, exhaling as she lowered her hips, “I must focus on my exercises now.”

Faye knew what Isparana was suggesting.  She began to wonder herself...

Faye gently extracted herself from Isparana, being careful not to tug on the girl’s long tresses as she rose from the carpeting.  She crossed the room and lifted a blanket from a rack in the corner, unfolding it as she walked over to the almost-dead woman on her couch. Gently, she placed the soft cloth over her friend, covering her bare hips and legs, and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.  Sarah stirred slightly, turned her head, and let out a brief snore.

Faye smiled.

She then crossed the room and opened a closet, lifting a pillow and two blankets from a shelf inside, and approached Isparana.

“Do you mind sharing a room with a dead body?” Faye asked, setting the materials on the floor beside the naked girl.

Isparana smiled. “No, it is ok. It will be good for her to wake up and see I am still here,” she replied.  She then lifted herself up again, grunting with effort.

“You can stop, you know.”

“No, I cannot,” she replied, “I do not want to disappoint Coach Sarah.”

***

Sarah heard a beep and opened her eyes.

Isparana, naked, was pointing a gun at her. A look of absolute hatred radiated from her face.

Sarah jumped with fright; her eyes wide open even though she couldn’t focus them. “No!” she croaked through lips that were stuck together.

“This is for making me do exercises!” the dark-haired beauty screamed angrily.  She waved the gun at Sarah menacingly and squeezed the trigger.

The gun beeped again.

Faye burst out in hysterical laughter as Sarah stopped her attempts to crawl over the back of the furniture.

“Oh, shit...You!” Sarah said, pointing an accusatory finger at Faye. “You put her up to this!”

Isparana laughed sharply, then quickly rested her hand across her tummy. “Oh, oh! It hurts...” she moaned through squelched laughter, still grinning.  She turned and presented the gun to Faye. “Thank you,” she said, handing the instrument to the woman, “My vengeance is complete.”

“Give that thing to me, Faye,” Sarah commanded, reaching for the little gun.

“No, you’ll break it,” she replied.

“You got that right!” Sarah yelled, “That’s twice you’ve scared me with that thing!”

“No, just once. I did it once and Isparana did it today.  It’s your own fault for not recognizing it. C’mon, it’s time for you to get up anyway. We’ve let you sleep long enough.”

Sarah smelled breakfast and instantly became hungry. “Is food ready?” she asked, calmingly slightly.

“Yes, I’m cooking in shifts.  This kitchen has a hard time keeping up with two people, much less three.  Ispy and I have already eaten.  She was a hungry girl so you’re getting scraps. Hope you don't mind crumbs.”

Sarah grunted and tossed the blanket aside, then swung her legs over the edge of the couch and pushed herself up. With a groan she stretched her arms up, the muscles of her legs standing out against her skin as she pressed against the sky.  Her shirt rode up, exposing her bare hips and tummy; a soft line of fur above her snatch.

“I wish I had your tummy,” Isparana remarked, her arm still resting against her belly, “it is very nice. Mine is not so much.”

“Do your exercises,” Sarah replied.

Isparana made a gun with her fingers, smiling as she gestured threateningly towards her coach.  Sarah scowled at the girl. With a giggle Isparana headed for the bathroom to finish her morning preparations.

“You should know,” Faye said in a hushed tone as she spooned a mixture of eggs, rice, peas, carrots, and potatoes onto Sarah’s plate, “that she asked me what we thought the first time we saw her."

"What did you tell her?"

“I told her the truth. I told her exactly what you said when you were spying on her through the door.  I remember it clearly. Do you?

"I do.  I'm not sure I'm glad you told her, though. She'll never fear me again."

"It made her happy.  I thought you might want to know that,” Faye continued.

“Thanks,” Sarah replied, “I appreciate your lack of confidentiality.”

Faye laughed. "You should also know that she continued to do her exercises after you fell asleep.”

“Really?” Sarah asked, spooning a bit of food into her mouth.

“Yep. She said she didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Sarah stopped in mid-bite. She turned and looked in the direction of the bathroom. Sarah inhaled, shuddering.

Faye pretended not to notice. “So will you be riding with us to school this morning?”

“No, I have to buy myself a vehicle so you don’t have to carry me around everywhere.  Then I’m meeting with the barrister to work out my father’s care and set up his trust fund, then heading over to the bankers union to finalize that and then get Ispy’s accounts set up so she’ll have guaranteed money for college. I also have to meet with the decorator sometime today about getting our new place furnished, and then after that I’m going to school to get the music room ready before track practice so I can bring in some money instead of just spending it. Somewhere in there I have to find time to prepare for my commissioning, review some applications for new assignees and conference with Thomas about transitioning our operations. I have a number of things I want to do to the Siobhan Penitentiary, including bulldozing the wreckage of Alpha barracks and restoring the old house.  That means soliciting state contractors and reviewing proposals and cost analysis to keep me in line with government regulations. And I need to take Ispy shopping for clothes.  She’ll need something to wear when she’s done with the Program, or if we go out anywhere. Certainly more than the one outfit I have for her.  I have a pretty busy day planned.”

“A simple ‘no’ would’ve sufficed.”

Sarah smiled. “Sorry; didn’t mean to bury you with details of my agenda.”

“Well, if it helps free up some time, you can use my car after you drop us off. I won’t be going anywhere until after practice anyway, and you’ll be there for that. Right?”

“Right. How long could it possibly take to buy a vehicle?”

"You've never bought one before?"

"No."

Faye snickered. “Do you know what you want?”

“No. Maybe something like yours, I guess.”

Faye looked at her skeptically. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Yes, I was taught on the old stick shifts. You know, the ones with the rods on the floor. Thomas had several that we used to drive together.”

“What were you going to do about insurance?”

“Huh?”

“You have to have insurance for collisions.  You also need to get it titled with the state. Were you going to get it titled in your name, the name of an outreach program, or the name of the penitentiary?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Faye shook her head and sighed. “Just take mine.  If you break it, you buy it.”

“How about if I just buy it now?  I like yours. It’s fun; at least to ride in. I’m sure you know what you want in something new anyway, right?”

“I have some ideas. Do you have a license?”

“Yes, that much I do have.”

Just then, Isparana came out of the bathroom.

“We’ll talk more later,” Faye replied, “Right now you need to get bathed and dressed, stinky girl.”

Sarah finished her meal and got up, but instead of going to the bathroom, she went over to a small closet.  She opened the door, reached in, and pulled out a blouse and skirt. “Ispy,” she asked, “what do you think of this?”

The girl turned. “It is very nice. It would look very good on you.”

Sarah flashed a questioning glance at her. “But, do you think it would look good on you?”

Isparana looked at her. “Yes, I like the colors. Can we share?”

A smile crept across Sarah’s face. Isparana didn’t understand what Sarah was telling her. “Ispy, it’s not for me. It’s for you.”

Isparana’s mouth flew open. “For me?”  The girl launched herself at Sarah, almost knocking her backwards into the closet as she wrapped her arms around her coach. “Oh, thank you!”

“Ok, ok,” Sarah said, peeling the girl off of her, “I have to go shower or we’ll be late for school. Put it on while I’m in the bathroom and we’ll see how pretty you look when I get out. You can wear it to school before you officially enter the Program.”

***

Faye looked in the rear-view mirror at the upturned face of the corpse in the backseat, the night gloom not yet unmasked by morning sunlight.  Isparana was sitting next to her in the passenger seat, playing with the onboard computer. “You do not have navigation?” the girl whispered.

“No,” Faye replied, “I reprogrammed the computer so I could fine-tune the engine and suspension.”

“Oh,” Isparana replied.

They drove along a bit more, the curious girl playing with every button on the console and asking what each one did.  After she had learned enough information to operate a small space program, she turned and sat quietly in her seat.

Faye pulled into the entrance of the school garage and went up the ramp to her designated spot.  As she settled the car into its little corner, Isparana reached back to wake up her coach.

“Wait,” Faye said with an evil grin, “Maybe we should leave her here.”

Isparana smiled at the thought, then said, “No, it would be cruel.  She has a very busy day today. She tries very hard to make us better.”  Isparana then cooed, “Coach Sar-ah...Coach Sar-ah... it’s time to get ready for prac-tice...”

The dead body in the back snorted once, then her arm moved.

“Coach Sa-rah...” Isparana cooed, “Coach Sa-rah...”

Finally the woman raised her head, a bleary eye cracked open.  “Where are we?”

Faye reached back and slapped Sarah’s leg. “We’re at school.  C’mon, get up. If you want to get things done today, you'll have to drive yourself.”

Sarah grunted her annoyance at being disturbed, then slowly began to move, like a ground sloth exiting hibernation.

"I'll leave the keys in the ignition for you. If you can't get the car out of the garage, just park it and come get me," she said with a wry grin.

"Ha, ha," Sarah replied sarcastically.  As she shifted in the back seat, her foot kicked a small box. It was the surprise gift Faye had given her the day before. Sarah had forgotten all about it in her haste to show Faye the new apartment. She didn't want to upset Faye by telling her she hadn't opened it as promised, so she quickly shuffled it under the seat and got out of the car.

"Be good in school, you two!" Sarah shouted cheerfully as the duo waved their good-byes and disappeared down the stairs.  She started the car and, using the paddle shifter, put it into reverse.

With a squeal, the tires spun as the engine roared to nearly maximum RPMs before she hit the brakes to keep the car from back-ending the wall on the other side of the garage.

"Ok, Lesson Number One: touchy throttle. Don't do that again," she told herself as she slowly pulled forward and onto the exit path.  She guided the small, high-powered vehicle down the ramp and paused as the gate's electronic eye scanned the security pass on the panel.

As she sat there, listening to the engine idle, she reached under the seat and retrieved Faye's present.  She lifted the lid and removed the sheet of tissue paper covering the object underneath.

It was the red jogging top Faye had given her on her first day at Stalin High.

In an instant, Sarah remembered everything. Gap-Tooth attacking her breasts, the art teacher tapping her leg with his baton, Charlie the artist savant feverishly sketching her portrait, the rack in the Wood Shop, Faye almost blowing her cover, racing James and almost winning, nearly being raped by an angry Chastity, dancing in the boy's locker room, being molested in the Biology class, meeting Charlie again, stealing a sandwich, watching her first track practice, the chance encounter with the custodian, and masturbating Faye in the small one-bedroom apartment.

Today Isparana would be naked, too.

The gate lifted and Sarah stepped on the throttle. Again the tires squealed as the engine revved and propelled the car wildly into the street. Without slowing down, Sarah turned the steering wheel hard, all four wheels spinning as the car drifted through the turn.  She straightened out and was soon zooming down the road like a madwoman.  When she got to the corner, she turned the wheel hard again, sending the car careening across the intersection through two lanes of early morning traffic, making a gap where one hadn't existed before. As she neared the front of the school, she saw Isparana surrounded by a crowd of students.  Reaching down to the center console, she adjusted the brake bias and then stomped on the brake pedal, cranking the wheel sharply over again, sending the car into a power slide sideways into a half-spin towards the school's courtyard; the pair of skid marks from the tires diverging into four before converging again into two long lines that terminated where the car came to rest against the curb, just short of the concrete security barriers.

As the smoke billowed out from under the wheel wells, Sarah leaped from the car and prepared to hurdle the hood before realizing that Isparana was in no danger at all.  She was still dressed in her new outfit and simply saying hello to all of the students she had met the day before.  With Isparana, and everyone else in the courtyard, staring at her, Sarah had to come up with an excuse quick before she caused Isparana to die of embarrassment.

Just then, the doors to the school flew open and Faye, walking briskly, charged directly at Sarah and the smoldering car.

"My car!  Are you crazy?! What in the..." Faye started to shout.

Sarah, holding up her hands to fend off Faye, said in her nicest voice, "I just wanted to remind Ispy that I'll be having our usual pre-practice nap in the music room, and that she should invite Vella, Dania, and Chastity to come along, too."

Isparana gave a bewildered nod and a wave as Vella, Dania, and Chastity stood staring at the crazy woman with the suicide car. Faye glared at Sarah's poor cover-up.  Sarah responded with a quick look of "Not now" and got back in the automobile.

***

The bodies of four naked girls lay sprawled across the floor of the music room as Sarah played selected refrains from Bolero.  She’d offered each of the girls a turn at selecting their music for the day, and today Isparana had selected Ravel again.  She had said it reminded her of her home.

Isparana was in her customary position; flat on her back, arms overhead with her legs obscenely apart, the lips of her labia majora slightly spread with nocturnal arousal.  Vella was next to her, one leg straight while the other was bent, as if she was climbing a set of stairs like an ascending nude, with one hand extended towards an imaginary handrail as the other lay across her trim tummy.  Dania was on her chest, her bare ass poking out into the air, with her arms and legs spread-eagled like a skydiver in mid-flight, her vulva presented between her smooth thighs and the gentle curves of her breasts pressing out from under her shoulders.  Chastity was on her side, hugging herself, with her blanket wrapped around her naked waist, one fair-skinned nipple peeking like an eye from over the crest of her arm.  Each of the girls was snoring softly, the occasional twitch of a bare leg being the only indication that they were still alive.

Faye had learned to crack the door and look first before entering the music room. Quietly, she crept across the floor, avoiding the hibernating bodies, and mouthed her greeting as she settled next to her friend.

“So how was her first day?” Sarah whispered.

“She didn’t tell you?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Then I’ll let her tell you when she’s ready.”

Sarah nodded and slid a sheet of paper over to Faye, indicating that she should read it.

“Thomas provides all new assignees with pen and paper on their first few days, and tells them to write to their family and friends,” Sarah whispered, “He uses it as a tool to check the inmate’s state of mind for any mental health issues, as well as to check literacy skills.  He’ll hold them a week and then ask the assignee if she still wants it mailed. If she does, he’ll send it. So far, none of them have sent their letter.  When they get discharged, he frames it with their certificate and presents it to them as a gift.  He was going to do the same thing for Ispy, but deferred to us. You may want to see what our little girl wrote.”

Faye looked at the first sheet Sarah gave her.

“Dear Mama and Papa; Please forgive me for leaving you.  I did not intend for my life to end as I fear it will a few days from now.  Yesterday I did a bad thing. I know you told me that if I was always good, then good things would happen to me, but yesterday I could not hold out any longer and I stole a piece of meat from a shopkeeper. I had not eaten in three days and I was hungry.   Now I am sitting in a room by myself and I do not know where I will be sent next for my punishment.  I think it will be someplace terrible because I am an immigrant and a girl, but the pain they will inflict on me will not match the sorrow I feel now for bringing shame to our family.  I am writing to beg for your forgiveness, and to ask that you please tell my sisters only the good things I have done in my life.”

Faye looked at Sarah. “Is she serious?”

“Keep reading,” Sarah whispered, “there’s more.”

Faye looked at the paper. “Please know that I love you with all of my heart, and that I will miss the days I spent running with Salma and Alanna through the ruins of Anazarbus, and with Paetra along the shores of Cilicia.  Please give them all my love, and tell them that I wish them to remember me as forever their sister, and that they should always see me smiling in the wind and sun as they chase their dreams along the paths we once ran together.  Please do not tell them what became of me, for I do not wish them to suffer in their hearts that which I will suffer with my body.  If I should survive my fate, I hope that you will forgive me for my transgressions and accept me back into our family.  Please, Papa, I beg this of you. Forever your loving daughter, ‘Rana.”

Faye looked up from the letter. “That girl is some kind of messed up.”

Sarah kept playing. “She was scared and alone, with no family and no friends. Thomas took it seriously enough to put her on a suicide watch after he had it translated. I guess she figured if she wrote it in Farsi, nobody would read it. Fortunately, she didn’t try anything, but she was certainly burdened with guilt during the short time she was there. When Thomas showed that to me, I thought we had a basket case on our hands. Then he put it in perspective.  He reminded me of the night I was desperate to see my father; how hard I had tried to reach him and beg for his forgiveness.  And that was with you as my friend and Thomas as my love right here with me. If you were alone and thought you were going to disappear from this earth forever, what would you do?”

Faye paused. She remembered how desperate Sarah had been. “I’d probably ask for forgiveness for my sins, too, real and imagined.”

“Exactly.  Faye, I need a favor.”

Faye looked at her cynically. “Oh no. I’m pretty sure you’ve already used up this month’s allotment.”

Sarah smiled, then responded with exaggerated puppy-dog eyes.

“Ok, ok. You win,” Faye said with a muffled laugh.

“I want you to contact Vella’s, Dania’s, and Chastity’s parents and tell them the girls are going on a track retreat before the Invitationals and won’t be home until after it’s over. Have them sign whatever the school needs signed. I want Ispy to have a family this week.”

“Can do. What about clothes?”

“I picked up some template Leighton Acres uniforms during my travels this morning.  I figured tonight the girls could have fun tailoring them for each other as a group project or maybe use them for pajamas. They also make a pretty good pillow case if you stuff them right, so I got some batting for that, too. The parents can drop off real clothes at the school tomorrow morning and the girls can get dressed then.  How do you feel about cooking dinner for everyone?”

“Your place or mine?”

Sara smiled. “Ours. On ten.  I spoke with the decorator and got as far as beds, linens, and kitchen equipment; the necessities for habitation.  She said they’re in the apartment and ready for use. I haven’t been by to check on it so we’ll have to trust her on that. The rest will have to wait a few days, possibly until after the meet, I think.”

“Six people, three bedrooms, two bathrooms? It’s going to be tight.”

“It can be a bonding experience.”

“Ok, next question. How were you planning on getting everyone there? My car will only hold four at most. Two people will have to sit on the roof.”

“The answer to that question is parked in the visitor’s parking lot.”  Sarah reached into her bag and pulled out two silver tabs attached to a distinctive cannon-shaped key fob. She passed them over to Faye. “Go take a look and let me know what you think. We have until close of business tomorrow to make a final decision.”

Faye looked at the fob. “A Hotchkiss?  You bought a Hotchkiss?”

Sarah nodded. “4.6 liters, 6 cylinders, 8 speeds, paddle shifters with overdrive differential. 60/40 variable all-wheel drive with upgraded manual-bias brakes all around. Z-rated tires, widest that would fit in a stock fender. Tunable intercooled cyclone thrust ports on the gas engine, and hi-put battery power through a Dura-Link electric engine driving a second transmission on the rear differential. Sport-tuned variable suspension coordinated with throttle, brake, and CG through the master onboard computer. I literally drove onto the lot with your car and told them I wanted the same thing in a 6-passenger vehicle. When they brought out a candidate, I upgraded two trim levels.”

Faye was dumbfounded.  Her mouth flapped twice before she was able to speak. “I thought you didn’t know anything about cars?”

“No,” Sarah said, “you just assumed I didn’t know anything about cars. I know cars. I’ve just never actually owned one.  I learned to drive on Thomas’ rebuilt Cobra Ace with a Powerhouse Hurst tuned throttle system and Edelbrock cell.  That was a fun car until he wrapped it around a tree chasing me.  I was in his MGC Tigershark. That thing could turn on a dime!”

“I still can’t believe you bought such a high-performance vehicle.”

“I told you, I want the name ‘Siobhan’ to mean a higher standard.” Sarah played another refrain of Bolero before continuing. “But, I did make one concession to practicality.  I covered up the leather with water-proof neoprene covers because I anticipate a lot of stinky bodies will be riding in it, but if you don’t like the covers you can take them off. If there’s anything else you don’t like about the car, we can take it back for a vehicle you like better. You’ll be the one driving it.”

“A Hotchkiss? Who would return a Hotchkiss?” Faye asked, “Wait. What color is it?”

“White. It’s a limited edition model.”

“I think I’ll like it just fine.”

Sarah laughed softly. “Just remember,” she warned, “this is a long-term asset, so don’t tear it up.”

Faye looked at her. “This from the woman who power-slid my car into a curb at the front door of the school, with the entire student population watching?  I’m pretty sure I saw scorch marks on the fenders from the smoke coming off the tires. I can only imagine the internal damage.”

Sarah feigned surprise. “Is that type of behavior frowned upon in this establishment?  I assure you, had I been made aware…”

“Alright,” Faye said, raising her hands in surrender, “Practice in twenty minutes.  You can take your flock directly to the stadium if you want. I don’t need them to check in. I’m seeing them right now.”

“Thanks, Faye, and please don’t let Ispy know we read her letter. I don’t want her to think we violated her privacy,” Sarah said as her friend tip-toed across the carcasses of the Stalin High relay team, each body gently stirring as Sarah changed the cadence on the piano, transitioning from Ravel to Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue".  Faye nodded and quickly closed the door.

One of the bodies on the floor slurped, followed soon after by another one that groaned.  One croaked a whisper to another, which joined the chorus of groans drifting up from the carpeting. Dania lifted her head, her muscular ass pinched with effort as she lay on her belly, arching her back as she stretched the sleep from her body. Chastity rolled over onto her back, her soft pale nipples open and pliant as she stretched her arms out away from her body, the curls of her blonde hair matted around her face.

Vella was the first to sit up, her dark hair falling naturally into place as she surveyed the slow-moving naked bodies around her.  She lifted a hand to rub at her eyes, trying to get them to focus.  She looked over at Isparana, who was still laying on the floor beside her, and gave her a gentle nudge.   “Nooo-oooo,” Isparana whined, “just a little more…”

“C’mon, girls,” Sarah cooed, “time to get ready for prac-tice…”

Vella nudged Isparana again, but she didn’t move.  Vella then, playfully, put both hands on her shoulders and shook her violently, giggling “Get up! Get up! Get up!” as Isparana’s young breasts swayed with her body’s movement.  Isparana smiled and lay limply on the floor, prompting Vella to slide her hands under the lifeless girl’s shoulders and act like she was trying to drag her to safety. Isparana couldn’t control her laughter and soon a giggle turned into a full-on laughing attack as Vella manipulated her to the left and right.  Vella started laughing too and soon put the lifeless Isparana on the floor as she collapsed, breathlessly paralyzed with joy. Dania and Chastity, seeing the two playing, started laughing and giggling with them.

Sarah sat at the piano, watching the four naked girls laughing and enjoying each other’s company.  She knew that the girls were bonding, that they were forming a level of trust and comfort with each other that would pay dividends in friendships off the track, and a sense of team on it.  She sat patiently watching as Chastity and Dania joined in Vella’s effort to lift Isparana from the floor, each naked girl grabbing a toned limb and tugging playfully at a giggling Isparana who moaned and laughed and moaned again.  Eventually, the threesome grew tired of their game and dropped the girl on the soft carpeting.  As the naked girls strode to the front of the room to collect their practice clothes, Isparana rolled over and pushed herself up to her feet,  joining the others as they lifted the small piles from the floor.

“Hey,” Vella said, “Where are my shorts?”

“I don’t have mine either,” Dania replied.

“Ok, what’s going on,” Chastity said, rifling through her stack.

Isparana, as part of the Program, knew she had only a jogbra and shoes to wear.

“Coach?” Isparana asked, “did you do something with my friends’ clothes?”

“Yes, yes I did,” Sarah replied, playing a refrain, “because as of right now, what happens to one, happens to all. If Isparana can’t wear shorts, then none of you can wear shorts.  If you don’t like it, you can quit.”

Sarah continued to play Gershwin.  The girls looked at each other. None of them moved.

Dania spoke up first. “How about if you gouge our eyes out instead?”

The other girls broke into laughter.  In a way, Sarah was glad to see they were in a good mood so soon after waking up.  It would make the rest of the evening that much easier.

“Ok, ok,” Sarah said, ceasing her playing and quieting the raucous girls, “here’s what I have planned for practice today. We’re going to run the stadium stairs.  The last girl to finish has to accept a slacker spanking.”

“Coach Sarah …” Isparana started to say.

“Unless,” Sarah continued, raising a finger and cutting Isparana off in mid-sentence, “the other three girls volunteer to run the stairs again with her.”

Isparana nodded. She could agree to that.  Vella, Dania, and Chastity all followed her lead.

“After that, we’ll take a break and prepare for the next drill, which will be running the stairs again, except this time with a baton. Each of you will be positioned at different levels of the stadium and you will pass the baton to the next person up from you.  Finally, we’ll do the same drill, but on the track. We’ll practice exchanges and talk strategy about acceleration and navigating the turns and stuff like that.”

***

Sarah stood bent over the track, watching her own sweat drip from her nose.

It felt good to work this hard again, to feel her heart beating in her chest and hear the blood rushing through her ears.  She liked the way the setting sun glinted off her sweat-slicked skin. She liked the feeling of her muscles soaking up the oxygen from her bloodstream.  She liked feeling alive.

Her four girls were flaked out in the grass around her, exhausted, their bodies drained of energy as they lay panting for air.  The silver baton lay in the grass beside Isparana, the final carrier of the precious length of metal.  Sweat matted her hair as her breasts rose and fell with her deep breathing, the arterial veins on either side of her exposed pubis throbbing with her heartbeat.  Sarah went over and picked up the baton, carried it to Dania, and plopped it on her belly, forming a nice T with the top of her exposed slit.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” Sarah said to the under-clothed girl.

“I’m thinking if you drop that thing on me again, I’m going to gouge your eyes out.”

The other girls started laughing, then choking; the laughter stealing their precious oxygen as they lay gasping in the grass.

Sarah picked up the baton and plopped it on Vella’s belly, eliciting a grunt from the darker girl.

“Tell me,” Sarah said.

“I’m thinking I’m about to die and you're the last person I'm going to see.”

Sarah lifted the baton again, and dropped it on Chastity, who managed to deflect it with her hands before it could collide with the yellow tufts of hair sprouting above her mound of Venus.

“I’m thinking I need to figure out how to get on your good side, so I won’t have to run those stairs again.”

Sarah lifted the baton where it had bounced onto the grass, and held it over Isparana.

“I will tell you. You don’t need to drop it,” the girl said. “I am thinking that I wish I was back home, but that I could take all of you with me.”

Sarah paused, letting Isparana’s words float in her endorphin-charged brain.

Dania, followed by Vella and Chastity, lifted their heads to look at the tawny-skinned girl resting in the grass.

“Really?” Dania asked.

“Yes, is true. I miss my home, but I do not have friends like you there.”  Isparana gasped, then said, “I would take all of you, even Coach Sarah, who has been very mean to me by making me do exercises every night.”

The other girls began to giggle.

“I wouldn’t laugh,” Sarah said, “She’s right. I am mean to her. Tonight you will all do them, too, because you’re having dinner with Isparana and spending the night with her.”

The girls immediately sat up, looked at each other, then at their coach who hovered over them, her body silhouetted against the darkening sky.

“That’s right.  The terror doesn’t end in this stadium.  Coach Faye will be driving all of you over to her place, to have dinner with Isparana.  Then, you will get to see the horror that Isparana is talking about.”

“You will come, too?” Isparana asked.

“If you invite me.”

“Yes! Of course! You are my coach!”

Sarah laughed. “Then I guess I’m coming to dinner. But first I have talk to some people. I’ll meet you at the apartment. Practice is over!”

The girls immediately got up and started walking towards the lockers, talking excitedly about their little dinner party, their bare asses covered in sweat and clumps of grass.

***

Four young vaginas slowly rose into the air.

The girls to whom those vaginas belonged lay on their backs side by side, palms pressed against the floor, grunting and groaning with exertion as they held their sex up high.  Sarah stood over them, pacing along the row of naked bodies, a wooden stick in her hand to tap at the bare hips of any girl who needed a little encouragement to finish the exercise. The object of her attention quickly became Vella, who was having difficulty holding her position. “Up, up”, Sarah said swinging the stick against the quivering ass cheeks of the darker girl whose face was twisted in pain as the muscles of her belly quivered with fatigue. “Now hold it,” Sarah commanded.

All four girls groaned, trying to keep their slits held high for their overseer.

“Down. Slowly.”

Gradually, each of the naked girls lowered their sexes back onto the floor, an audible gasp of relief coming from each one as their hips settled against the soft towels under their bodies.

Sarah looked at each of the naked girls, the pain of the exercise etched on their faces, their young breasts rising and falling with each gasp and pant.

“Up,” was all she said.

A collective groan drifted from the floor as, slowly, each of the girls raised her vagina again, offering her sex to her coach. “Up,” Sarah repeated, tapping the stick against her own palm as she looked for her next victim. “Up, Chastity,” was all she had to say and the blonde girl quickly brought her pussy level with those of her teammates. She had already felt the kiss of the stick once.  She didn’t want to feel it again.

“Hold it,” Sarah said, surveying the squirming bodies spread on the floor before her.  Each girl was breathing hard, her torso glowing from her efforts to hold her little mound up high.  A grunt, a moan, the sound of someone breathing through their teeth.  Each girl struggled to hold her position.

“Down. Slowly.”

Each little pussy now slowly descended onto the floor, its owner relaxing as her hips settled back into position.

“Stay there, and don’t move, but feel free to talk,” Sarah said, “I’ll be right back.”

Faye was in the kitchen, snacking on some leftover food and listening to the machine clean their dishes.  She was flipping through a designer’s catalogue of home furnishings that the decorator had dropped off. “You’re working them hard tonight,” she said as Sarah passed by.

“They need it,” Sarah replied in passing, “I have something special planned for tomorrow.”

Sarah retrieved a bag from the kitchen, then crossed the tiny hall and went into the living room where the four naked girls, still on their backs, giggled in hushed whispers, the lights of the city twinkling between their knees.

“This is for you,” Sarah said, dropping a scrap of orange material on a girl. “One for you, one for you, and one for you.”

Each girl looked at the rectangle of fabric Sarah had given her. “What is it?” Dania asked.

“If you’re going to have a pajama party, you have to have pajamas!” Sarah said gleefully, “These are blank Leighton Acres tunics.  You’re each going to wear one as your sleepwear. But first, stinky girls go take showers. Off you go!”

Each of the girls groaned as they rolled over onto their stomachs and pushed themselves up.  Vella and Dania headed for the hall bathroom as Chastity and Isparana headed for the master bathroom, each girl clutching her little orange top and a small bag of toiletries.  Soon the sound of running water and laughter could be heard from each end of the apartment.

Sarah wandered into the kitchen. “Are you still eating?” she exclaimed as Faye casually balanced a portion of red beans and rice on her fork, “you keep that up and we’ll have to make a new tunic for you.”

“Hey,” Faye said in retaliation, “cooking burns calories!”

Sarah raised an eyebrow in skepticism. 

“Ok,” Faye said guiltily, setting the container on the counter, sealing it, and placing it in the refrigerator.  “But if I waste away to nothing, it’s your fault.”

Sarah grinned at the joke, then said, “Faye, I need a favor…”

Faye started laughing, then gave Sarah the same one-eyebrow skeptical look Sarah had given her.

Sarah giggled. “Ok, I deserved that. But seriously, I do need a favor; two favors actually. First, I need to know if we’re keeping the Hotchkiss…”

“Yes, we are. People don’t return a limited edition Hotchkiss.”

“Ok, second, I need to borrow it tomorrow after school. I’m taking the girls somewhere to train for cross-country.”

“Not a problem. Anything else while I’m feeling generous?”

“Yes. When the moment presents itself, I may need you to keep Isparana distracted in her bathroom while I talk to the other three girls. I have something planned and I’ll need their help.”

Just then, Sarah heard the master bath door open.  Chastity came strolling out, closing the door behind her.  As she drifted down the hall, her body wrapped in a towel, Dania and Vella came out of the guest bath giggling and heading towards the living room.

“Hey, guys,” Sarah called out to the three girls, “come here a second, please.”

Faye nodded and headed for the master bath, grabbing a bottle of lotion from the cabinet as she called out, “Hey, Ispy, I have some lotion here you may want to try. It will keep your skin from…” her voice trailing off as she disappeared down the hall.

Soon the three girls, each naked but for the towels wrapped around their bodies and their heads, were listening attentively as Sarah outlined her plan.

***

Faye followed the dirt path up to the start of the trailhead.  The white Hotchkiss was parked there, its new tires vacuuming up the loose gravel of the path.  As Faye shut off the motor of her small car, Isparana opened the door and got out. She was wearing the Leighton Acres uniform she had been issued during her stay at the farm and her customized pink running shoes adorned her feet.  “What is going on?” the girl asked, confused, “where are the others?”

“This is a journey you take by yourself,” Faye replied, getting out of the car.  Faye pointed towards an opening in the thick treeline where a dirt trail started.  “When you begin your journey, you never know what - or who - you will find.  Sometimes the path will turn and you will need to rely on someone to show you the way.”  She walked over and gave the girl a gentle nudge, “Now go, and see where your journey takes you.”

Isparana gave a confused look over her shoulder as she began to slowly jog up the trail.

After a few meters, the trail widened into a comfortable well-marked path with good visibility.  She followed the carve-out over a few gentle hills and back down into a valley.  As she rounded a turn, she could see that the trail continued up an incline.  At the top of that incline were two figures silhouetted against the sky. Each was dressed in an orange tunic decorated with gold trim, a slender belt around the waist, holding small signs in their hands.  As Isparana climbed the hill, she could see what had been carefully printed in each of the girls’ own distinctive script.  One read “Salma” and the other read “Alanna”.

“What is …?” Isparana started to say, slowing at the top of the hill.  Dania and Vella didn't speak a word. They just reached out and touched the girl’s shoulders, giving her a gentle nudge to keep her moving.  As Isparana resumed her jog, the two girls dropped their signs and fell in behind her, running in silence behind their friend.

The trail went back down into another valley, the soft mix of sand and shell crunching under their feet. Isparana could see a wooden arch on the crest of the next ridge.  The trail she was on flowed under that arch, its wooden façade painted in grey and black to represent stones.  In stylized lettering she could see the word “ANAZARBUS” across the top of the arch.

Isparana slowed her pace, realizing what was going on.  She looked at the girls flanking her and covered her mouth. Dania and Vella smiled at her encouragingly and pushed her gently forward.

Isparana’s eyes began to water as she fought back her tears.  She continued to follow the trail and soon the trio passed two large rectangular pieces of wood, each painted in a seascape, the sail of an ancient brig tucked safely in one blue cove.  Ahead stood Chastity, also dressed in an orange tunic trimmed in gold, holding a sign that read “Paetra”.

Isparana couldn’t control her tears any longer. She began to cry as Chastity fell in step behind the group.  Each of the girls placed a gentle hand on the weeping Isparana, supporting her as they followed the trail up a gentle incline that turned to the right.  As they came around the bend, the trail leveled out and there stood Sarah, clad in her Leighton Acres convict uniform, waiting.

“This is as far as we go,” Chastity said, slowing her pace until they had all stopped. There was still some distance to go before they reached Sarah, who stood patiently by the side of the road.  Isparana looked at her friends, the tears welling in her eyes.  She nodded good-bye, then turned and jogged slowly up the trail towards her coach.

As Isparana neared, Sarah opened her arms, accepting the weeping girl into her embrace. “Your journey isn’t over yet,” Sarah said tenderly, “you still have one more thing to do.  I couldn't find your father, so I'm loaning you mine.  I should warn you. He doesn't forgive easily, so you'll have to give him a good reason.”  Sarah released her grip on the crying girl and pointed to a small booth set close to the treeline.

Isparana saw it.  It was a crude depiction of an acropolis.  In front of it stood an older gentleman in a tan windbreaker, a copse of white hair on his head. Isparana knew what she was supposed to do. She slowly walked towards him, her legs heavy like a dead man walking to the gallows, until she stood in front of him.

Dania, Chastity, and Vella walked over and stood by their coach, watching as Isparana cried and spoke and cried some more.  They watched as Isparana, trembling, her shoulders stooped with guilt, confessed her sins to the man standing in front of the wooden set.  Finally, he opened his arms, indicating his forgiveness.

Dania tentatively asked, “Who is that?”

“That,” Sarah said, her voice trembling as she watched the man hug the sobbing girl, “is the most feared man in the district.”

Sarah could feel the tears welling in her eyes as she watched the tiny figure of Isparana clutched in the arms of the man who was hated by so many.  Then Sarah heard his familiar deep timber.  He was telling Isparana something.  Isparana lifted her head from his shoulder.  Apparently he had told her something that surprised her.  He continued to speak but Sarah couldn’t make out the words.  Whatever it was had deep meaning to Isparana, her face etched in concentration.  She nodded and released her grip on the man. He gave her a final hug and then she proceeded back down the hill.

“What did he say?” Sarah asked as Isparana rejoined their little group.

Isparana’s eyes were red from crying, her face damp with tears.  She started to cry anew as she remembered his words. “He said…” she began, “he said everyone feels alone at some time in their lives, and that I should always carry hope in my heart, because as long as I have hope, I will never be alone.”  Isparana sniffed, then said, "He also said he knows what loneliness is, and what it can do to a person.  Coach Sarah, he hopes you will someday forgive him, too."

Sarah whirled around and looked at her father, then quickly sprinted back up the slope towards the figure silhouetted against the grey sky.  The Stalin High relay team watched as a grown man wept in the arms of his daughter.

***

The headlights of the Hotchkiss pierced the darkness of the road leading to the main house. Sarah, peering through the glass of the house's front door, saw the vehicle park next to the small sporty car she had abandoned in the drive.  Five women piled out of the white vehicle, all in orange tunics, then trudged together wearily up to the building.  Before Faye could reach the handle, Sarah opened the door.

“Hi, guys,” Sarah said, greeting her team, “Come on in.”

Sarah closed the door as the last of the group entered the lobby.  “Isparana,” she said tenderly, “I hope you don’t mind that I read your letter.”  Isparana turned and smiled, “It is ok,” she said softly, “It was good for me. Thank you, for everything you have done."  New tears began to flow, and now she was joined by her friends, the girls intertwining their arms as they surrounded Isparana, the group now fully understanding the importance of their coach’s unusual training run.

“You’re not done yet,” Sarah said, “you need to go through those doors and speak with Mr. Leighton.”

Isparana nodded as the girls released their grip on her.  She then turned towards the study, her rubber-soled feet padding softly towards the study’s sliding doors as she sniffed and laughed and cried and sniffed again.  Tentatively, she knocked against the door.

“Come in, Isparana,” Thomas said.

The girl slid the door open and paused half-way in. “Did you want me to close the doors, sir?” she asked.

“It’s up to you.  This is your discharge ceremony.”

Isparana froze. “But, I still have …”

Sarah quickly shuffled over to Isparana and pushed her playfully into the office, then pulled the door closed before the stunned girl could turn around, leaving a crack just wide enough for Sarah to spy on the meeting. The other girls hurried over as well, their faces eagerly lined up in the open slot between the two doors.

Isparana sat down delicately in the chair in front of his desk.

Thomas assumed a serious demeanor, pressing an ornamental pen between his fingers.

“Young lady, theft is a serious offense.  As a law enforcement officer, I would be remiss in not warning you that any further misconduct will be dealt with appropriately.”

“Yes, sir,” Isparana replied, “I understand.”

“Then you should also know that this afternoon I met with the victim of your crime and provided him with restitution for his loss.  That means you now owe me a debit; a debit which I intend to collect.”

Isparana sat ramrod straight in the chair. “I understand. I will do my best to fulfill my obligations to you, sir. I promise.”

“Good. Because here’s what you owe me.”  Thomas slid a sheet of paper over to her. 

Isparana cupped her hand over her mouth and started crying again.  “I will, sir.  I most certainly will.”

“Sign this please,” he said, sliding another document over to her.  She accepted his pen and signed her name where Thomas pointed with his finger.  After she had signed, he lifted the paper and tucked it neatly into the file on his desk.  He then reached into a drawer and pulled out her letter. “Did you still want me to deliver this?”

“No,” Isparana said softly, “I have a new family now.”

Thomas smiled as the women behind the door began to cry.  He opened the desk drawer again, lifted out a framed certificate, and presented it, along with the letter, to Isparana.

“Congratulations,” he said, “you’re now a free citizen.”

Isparana nodded and started to cry in deep, heaving sobs.  Sarah opened the door and a mob of crying females rushed in, surrounding the young woman whose life had just taken a dramatic change for the better.

Sarah waited patiently, letting the girls vent their emotions, before she continued.  “Isparana, I still have two more things for you.”

The girl turned and looked at her coach. “You do? But you have done so much already…”

“First, happy birthday. Second, you need to raise your right hand.”

Isparana looked at her, confused. “Why?”

Sarah smiled. “Do it or I’ll gouge out your eyes.” 

Dania, Vella, and Chastity started giggling between sniffles.  Isparana smiled, dabbing at a tear in her eye, as she raised her right hand.

Sarah dutifully raised her hand as well. “Repeat after me,” she said, “I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen…”

Isparana stood on the floor, stunned.

Sarah looked at her encouragingly, waiting.

Dania pushed her. “Go on…” she whispered to her awestruck friend.

Isparana started. “I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely … renounce…”  Isparana began to stumble, forgetting the words.

“And abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty…” Vella whispered in her ear.

Isparana repeated her words dutifully, as well as the rest of the declaration Sarah spoke to her, until she had completed the oath.

“Then by the powers invested in me by the action of law, I hereby declare you a legal citizen, with all the rights and responsibilities such privilege brings,” Sarah said, “Congratulations.”

Isparana felt her knees buckle.  Sarah moved to catch the falling girl, but Vella, Dania, and Chastity beat her to it, catching Isparana before she completely collapsed.  Supported by the strength of her friends, Isparana asked, “But… how?  There is an application process, and only certain authorities...”

“Yes, and wardens are one of those authorities. I received my formal commission yesterday, as warden of Siobhan Penitentiary.  Do you remember the tests you took when you first arrived?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, there were so many of them.”

“One of them was your citizenship test. Thomas snuck it in with the others when he saw that you would reach legal adult age during your term here.  The test is performed by two independent proctors, so he administered it and I graded it.  Congratulations, you passed. You're now entitled to all of the rights, privileges, and duties of a free citizen, including eligibility for college.”

Isparana’s mouth flew open.  She tried to speak, but only a huffing noise came out.

Sarah laughed, then began clapping in salute to the girl who was struck mute with shock.  Thomas, Faye, Dania, Vella, and Chastity also began clapping for their friend, hugging her and sharing her joy.  Finally, Isparana regained her composure enough to speak. “I love all of you very much…” she managed to say, before succumbing to her tears again, the other girls giving her comforting hugs as they began to cry again, too.

***

The lights streaking by the window of the small car began to become more numerous as they got closer to the city proper.  Isparana sat in the passenger seat quietly watching the trees transition into sign posts and light poles; her letter, her citizenship ID, and her framed certificate of correctional completion resting on her lap.  She had wanted to ride alone with Sarah while the rest of the team followed in the Hotchkiss. They had been on the road for almost twenty minutes.  So far, she hadn’t said a single word.

Sarah broke the ice first.

“Ispy,” she asked, “are you ok?”

“Yes,” the girl replied softly, “I just don’t know what to say. Everything is just so wonderful for me now. It is all so much all at once.”

Sarah smiled.  They drove along in silence a bit more.  There was something that Sarah really wanted to know.  Finally, Sarah couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“So,” she asked gently, “what was the debit that Thomas charged you?”

“Hmm?”

“When he said he had paid the shopkeeper for the piece of food you stole, he said you now owed him something. What was it?”

Isparana smiled, the lights dancing in her eyes as the car sped through the night. “I should tell my secrets to the woman who read my private letter and then told all of my friends what I wrote?”

Sarah laughed. Isparana knew her too well.

“But I did it for the right reason,” Sarah tried to explain.

Isparana smiled. “True, but this is not for you. It is something only I can do. This is something private to me. Ok?”

“Tell me or I’ll gouge out your eyes.”

“If you keep asking, I will shoot you with the gun.”

“I am your coach.”

“And I am a citizen,” Isparana said with a giggle.

Sarah smiled. She knew Isparana wouldn’t tell her.  She’d have to recruit the other girls to help her ferret out Isparana's secret.

***

Sarah didn’t know why she bothered to purchase beds for the new apartment. So far, none of the girls had used them.

On the first night of the retreat, Sarah had told them about Isparana’s letter and outlined her plan.  In a show of unity and support for their friend, the girls had all slept together in a pile on the floor, huddled under their blankets like naked hamsters.  Sarah had, as she had a tendency to do, passed out on the couch reading her book and Faye had disappeared to her apartment downstairs.

Now, Faye was in the kitchen tending to the post-dinner aftermath while Sarah lay on the couch reading her book, flirting with involuntary slumber again.  The girls had once again collected in a circle on the floor with their blankets, and tonight the topic of conversation had been Isparana’s letter and the specific places she had mentioned.

She had told them about Cilicia, about the rocky coastline that had once served as a pirate den but now housed a pretty fishing boat in every picturesque cove.  She told them about the ancient Roman ruins of Anazarbus and how she had spent many days exploring the area where centurions had once stood guard against Arab armies.  And she told them about the tearful farewell from her family because she had wanted to remain in school here to finish her education so that she could learn a new culture instead of returning to her native country.  The girls had listened attentively when she explained that the women in her country were taught to keep their mounds shaved bare as a sign of virtue and purity. 

Now Chastity lay on her back, her head cradled in Isparana’s lap, her knees bent and her legs spread wide.  A towel was under her bare hips.  Vella knelt between Chastity’s thighs with an electric depilator, gently wiping the nervous girl’s vulva with the tiny silver instrument.  Isparana stroked the blonde girl’s face tenderly, telling her she was being so good and brave, as Dania held her hand and further comforted her.  Every now and then, Chastity would lift her head to check the progress Vella was making, the muscles of her tummy twisting with effort as she watched the vibrating rod reveal more and more of her skin. 

Sarah lay on the couch watching the girls, wondering if she should let Vella do the same to her.

The attention being paid to Chastity’s mound had caused the girl’s slit to awaken, and the soft pink flesh hidden inside had begun to blossom in response to Vella’s ministrations.  Vella, not wanting to embarrass her friend, had tried to ignore Chastity’s arousal, but as the blonde girl’s slit had opened more and begun to lubricate, her readiness could no longer be denied. Vella playfully brushed a finger along the exposed blood-infused tissue, causing Chastity to spasm involuntarily.  Vella giggled, then did it again, causing Chastity to again twitch in response to the sensation of her labia being tickled.  Vella realized she was being cruel and, apologetically, covered the girl’s sex with the palm of her hand as she began to clean Chastity’s perineum.  For her part, Chastity closed her eyes and lay her head back down, letting Isparana stroke her face as Vella stroked her vulva.

Isparana leaned over, her long dark curls falling down like a waterfall around Chastity’s face.  In a hushed whisper, Isparana explained that it was natural to become aroused during the process, and that it was customary for the person to be granted relief by one of her attendants.  Isparana offered herself to Chastity, if she wished it.

Chastity exhaled, then slowly nodded her head.

Gently, Isparana laid the girl’s head on the floor and, careful not to pull her friend’s hair, rose up and walked over to where Vella was kneeling.  Isparana touched the darker girl on the shoulder and nodded for her to switch places.  After Vella had moved off, Isparana knelt down and placed her hand over Chastity’s sex. Isparana turned her head to the side and gathered her dark hair in her hand, then slowly lowered her face to the girl’s presented mound and touched her lips to the crest just above her slit, gently kissing the freshly-shaved skin.

With her hand still covering Chastity’s sex, Isparana told her how beautiful she looked, and how much she loved her, and how much Chastity was loved by the friends that surrounded her.  She told the girl how it was the right of every woman to control her body, but to always surrender her fears to love, and to always be loved by others.

With a smile, Isparana then lowered her mouth to Chastity’s body and kissed her pubic crest again, her hand still resting on the girl’s flowering slit.  Isparana then placed her other hand on Chastity’s taut tummy and began to gently massage the rim of her belly, feeling the tightness of the girl’s muscles from Sarah’s nightly exercises as she massaged the warm life-giving blood into the tissue.  Isparana then placed both of her hands on either side of Chastity’s navel and drew them towards her, the skin folding under her palms as she swept the warmth towards Chastity’s mound.  She repeated the movement twice more, each time pressing slightly firmer against the girl’s belly.

Next, Isparana drew a line with her fingertips across the width of Chastity’s bare hips, her fingers gently delineating the target of her intentions.  Vella and Dania, each holding one of Chastity’s hands, watched in rapt attention as Isparana performed her ceremony on their friend.

Gently, Isparana inserted a finger into the groove of Chastity’s labia, running it along the length of her crevice, stimulating the hidden nerves as she delicately stroked the moist tissue.  A soft moan came from Chastity, prompting Vella to reach up and brush her cheek as the girl began to lose herself to the pleasure emanating from her sex. Isparana smiled at the sound of her friend, knowing that Chastity was trusting her with the very thing that defined her as a woman.

Isparana continued to draw her finger along the valley of the girl’s labia, gently pressing deeper as she approached the hiding place of Chastity’s clit.  A sudden spasm by Chastity told Isparana when she was getting close, and soon the Persian beauty had drawn the little red cap to the surface.  She gently rolled the tiny head with her fingers, eliciting another pleasured moan from her friend as Chastity’s legs tightened in reaction to the stimulation.  Isparana continued to massage the bundle of nerve endings, then gently inserted her finger into Chastity’s tunnel.

Chastity inhaled deeply as she felt Isparana’s fingers slide smoothly into her body, the long, slender digits rubbing against the lining of her hole as Isparana felt for her secret spot.  A gasp and a gentle convulsion from the naked girl told Isparana when she had found it. With long deliberate strokes Isparana worked her fingers against her friend’s tunnel, watching as Chastity twitched and flexed under her hands, working her hips in a synchronized rhythm to Isparana’s gentle caresses.

Isparana increased her tempo slowly, letting the pleasure build in her friend’s body, until soon Chastity was moaning and thrusting her hips against Isparana’s hand, reaching for the orgasmic release she wanted so desperately.  Isparana held her right on the edge, keeping the girl suspended on the cusp of a supernova buried in her belly.  Then, mercifully, Isparana pushed her over the edge, the muscles in Chastity’s legs twisting as she thrust her head back, lifting her body off the floor as high-pitched squeal escaped her throat, the other two girls holding her tenderly as she basked in the sexual glow of her climax.  Then, slowly, Chastity settled back onto the floor and into her friends’ embrace, her body warm, her breath coming in deep gasps.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “that was fantastic.”

Isparana smiled, placed her hand over Chastity’s moist sex, and told her she was honored to have the privilege of pleasing her.  She then leaned over and gently kissed the rim of Chastity’s trembling belly, and reminded her of how beautiful she was.  Isparana looked at Vella, nodded, and stood up.  Vella resumed her work between Chastity’s thighs as Isparana, after cleansing her hands with lotion, once again knelt by the girl’s head, stroking her face and brushing the loose strands of hair that clung to her skin.

Sarah definitely knew she wanted to be next.

She found a good stopping point in her book and closed the cover, then placed the tome on the floor.  Vella, still poised between Chastity’s legs, was dabbing some lotion on Chastity's mound as Sarah closed her eyes for just a second…

***

Sarah thought she heard a tell-tale beep.  Her eyes snapped open, but she couldn’t focus. She was on the couch and expected to see Isparana, or one of the other girls, standing over her with the bio-reader gun, but she couldn’t see anything at first.  Then she began to make out a black rectangular shape on the distant wall. It was the doorway to the hall. The room was dark; lit only by the ambient light of the city spread out to the horizon below.  A mass of heavily-breathing bodies lay on the floor, shapeless under their blankets, the lengths of hair streaming over the pillows the only way to tell who the bodies belonged to.  She closed her eyes again and tried to go back to sleep.

She had to pee. Resignedly, she tossed her blanket aside and swung her legs over the edge of the couch. Stifling a groan, she pushed herself up into a standing position and blindly made her way towards the bathroom at the far end of the apartment, careful not to disturb any of the girls asleep on the floor. Like a cat burglar, she slowly walked across the inlaid wood flooring, then down the carpeted hall, searching for the doorway to the master bath. Finding it, she placed her hand on the knob and pushed the door open.

Suddenly she felt someone grab her arms and pin them behind her back as the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against her neck. “Don’t make a sound,” a deep voice growled.

Sarah froze, a million thoughts running through her mind all at once.  Then, her training kicked in, and with a disciplined mind she began to weigh her options. Her first priority was protecting the girls.  She could resist, but the longer she waited the less likely a successful outcome would be as the attacker secured his superiority.  She could comply and wait for an opportunity to retaliate, but at night, in the dark, with four sleeping teen-aged girls in the other room, a successful outcome there seemed even less likely.  She needed to act. She needed to act now.

Sarah thrust her hip into the intruder at the same time she bent her head down.  If the gun did discharge, it would graze the back of her head; at best peeling her skin with powder burns and at worst blowing off the back of her skull, killing her instantly in a painless death. Twisting her body, she lifted her attacker off the floor and slammed him into the doorway, his spine cracking against the raised edge of the frame, loosening his grip on her arms.  Jerking free of her attacker, she then turned and prepared to deliver a strike to the center of his face.

“Coach! Wait! It’s me!” 

A girl’s voice.

Sarah held fast, trying to identify the tone.

“Dania?”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Sarah reached down and placed her hands gently against the naked girl. “Are you ok?” she asked.

“Yeah, just a little shaken, I think. You might’ve bruised my back." She groaned. "Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Sorry, I… I didn’t know it was you. You scared the pee out of me!”

“That was sort of the idea. Guess it wasn’t a very good one.”

“No, it wasn’t. Next time you may want to make sure you aren’t trying it against someone trained in hand-to-hand close quarters combat.”

Dania started to stand up, helped by Sarah.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“I’m the daughter of the warden of a maximum-security facility, the fiancée of another warden, and a commissioned warden in my own right.  That makes me an extremely high-probability target, three times over.  There’s a certain risk that goes along with the occupation and the odds are stacked against me.  I started training after I got out of track.”

Lights flicked on in the living room, and soon some familiar bodies trudged down the hall towards the two battered women.

“What’s going on?” Vella asked with one eye shut.

“Are you guys ok?” Chastity asked.

“Yeah,” Sarah replied, “Dania accidentally bumped into me and I thought she was an intruder. It’s ok. Everyone go back to bed.”

Vella and Chastity looked at Dania for confirmation.  "Our coach is a bad ass," she answered.  The girls grumbled, then trudged back towards the living room.

“Dania, wait.” Sarah felt something odd with her heart. She took a breath.  “Take a reading with that gun. Check my heart rate, please.”  Sarah felt light-headed and slumped against the wall.  Then her world went black.

***

Sarah heard a beep.  Then she heard another one.  And another. Waking up to the sound of electronic beeps had recently been a bad way to start the day for her.  She cracked an eye open. A hose was connected to her chest.  This could not be good.

“Mr. Thomas, I think she is awake.”

Isparana’s voice. Where was she?

Thomas’ face appeared. “Dearest, don’t try to move. Just lie still and everything will be ok.”

She tried to speak, but only heard a croak.

Thomas looked at something above her head, out of her line of vision.  Then her world went black again.

***

Sarah woke up to bright sunlight and cream-colored walls.  Where was she?  She’d never seen this place before.  Is this heaven?  It didn’t look anything like she imagined it would.  Where were the angels? And the music?

“Hello.” A gentle voice.  Sarah focused her eyes on the shape looming over her. She recognized the face that smiled tenderly at her. She tried to speak but her mouth was extremely dry and there was a nasty taste on her tongue. She licked her lips and tried to suck on her own spit. Finally, she managed to mumble “Ishprahna? Why are you here?”

Isparana looked at her quizzically, then said, “Because you are my sister, of course.”

“Oh,” Sarah replied. It all made sense to her now. Her sister was an angel, so she must be in heaven.  She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

***

Sarah woke up surrounded by flowers.  Thomas was in a chair by the three-pane bay window, his head tilted forward in sleep, a habit he had developed working long nights with irregular hours in his office.  Isparana was curled up in the bay window next to him, her legs protruding from the tiny shelf.  Every available flat space was covered in plants, cards, or food.  Sarah didn’t want to disturb the two sleeping figures, so she lay quietly in the bed, waiting for them to wake up on their own. 

A slender hose ran from her chest, the junction where plastic met skin surrounded by a tiny donut of surgical sealant, to an intravenous pump strapped to her arm.  She didn’t know where she was, but at least she would be able to walk around.  She inhaled deeply and felt a stabbing pain, causing her to gasp sharply.  She looked around her bed for a medical chart.  It hung on the bed, just out of reach.  She pulled herself up, stifling a groan as stiff muscles were called into service.  She reached for the chart with hands that didn’t want to work, the chart banging against the bedpost like a hammer against a bell.

Thomas’ head snapped up as his breathing was interrupted in mid-snore.  “Just lie back down, dearest,” he growled, “you’ve had a rough night.”

“What…” Sarah started to say.

“You had a blockage that obstructed a valve," he said, reading her mind, "You couldn’t pump blood the way you should and you passed out from the resulting lack of blood flow.  Fortunately, you weren’t alone when you went down and the girls were able to keep you alive long enough to get you to the hospital.  Apparently you’re more like your mother than I thought.”

“How am I?” she said in a weak voice, “How bad is it? How long do I have?”

Thomas leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You’ll live.  In fact, you’ll be out of here once you think you can walk. You can even go for a light jog after they remove the pump and the scar tissue heals.  Most of what you’re feeling is from the installation of the access line and the anesthetic.  They warned me you might be a little loopy at first, but you seem to be coherent now. How do you feel?”

Sarah smiled. “I’m fine. I do remember being loopy, though. I dreamt Isparana was an angel.”

The mass of hair and legs on the window sill giggled.

Sarah grinned at her and replied, “I also dreamt you were my sister.”

Isparana giggled again. “That was not a dream. Mr. Thomas told them that so I could stay with you.  When you woke up, the nurse was there so I had to say it, too.”

“Well, if I had to have a sister, I’m glad she’s you.”

“Ohhh!” Isparana said, coming to the bed and giving Sarah a gentle hug, “And I am glad you are my sister, too!” She gave Sarah a kiss on the cheek and said, “I told you, let us not fight. I like you too much, remember?”

Sarah smiled at her. "I remember." She motioned towards the gifts around the room. “What's all this?”

Thomas replied, “Most of the flowers are from the teachers, the cards were made by the students, and the food is from the assignees, picked with their own hands specifically for you.  It must've been a slow news day because your accident has been covered by all of the local stations.”

Sarah let out a moan of laughter at his joke and set her head back down on the pillow.  Then, she bolted upright and reached for Thomas’ arm and asked, “What day is it? And what time?”

“Thursday,” he replied, “late afternoon.”

“I have to…” she started, sitting up in the bed, “I have to get to practice.”

“I don’t think…” he started to reply as he helped her sit up.  She focused on the side of the mattress and let her legs slide over the edge of the bed.  Holding on to Thomas’ shoulder, she scooted forward and let her bodyweight carry her to the floor.

“If I can walk, I can coach,” she said. “Don’t touch me. Let me try this on my own.”  She released her grip on his arm and started to walk towards the sunlight.  Three steps and she was at the window. “Ok,” she said, “let’s go.”

“Dearest,” Thomas replied sternly, “Three steps isn’t walking.  You’re in no shape to conduct a practice. Find someone else.  Faye can do it.”

Sarah shook her head, “No.  This is my team.  This is my family. Isparana is my sister. You said so yourself.  I worked them hard and they never quit on me. I’m not going to quit on them; not before the Invitationals.”

“No, absolutely not. I’m not going to risk losing my fiancée to internal bleeding because she’s being stubborn.  Win or lose, this meet means nothing.  The real season doesn’t start for another week.”

Sarah growled menacingly and said slowly and deliberately, “Thomas, this meet means the world to me. Please understand something. For the last four years I’ve had to put up with stories and articles about how Sarah Siobhan was a quitter; how she gave up when she had so much potential.  This is my chance to prove myself. It may not mean anything to you, but it means everything to me.”  Sarah turned to Isparana, pleading with her. “That’s why I’ve been making you do those exercises every night.  That’s why I bought the apartment and made the other girls come. That’s why I’ve been making the team run until they had no more run left in them. I want to win.  This is my chance. This is my redemption.”

Isparana turned to Thomas, pleading. “Mr. Thomas, you must let her.  I can do the practice today so she can sit in the stands. There will be no risk. I will protect her.  After all, I am her angel.”

Thomas growled. He could see Sarah would do it with or without his permission, so he might as well take what he could get from her. “Ok, but,” he said, “promise me you’ll be careful, and that you will always have Isparana with you.”

Sarah nodded with a smile. “Ok, my love,” she replied.

***

The small sports car pulled into the parking lot only a few minutes late for practice.  Chastity, Vella, and Dania were still stretching, not sure if they would have a practice or not.  When they saw Isparana climb out of the driver’s seat, they began to walk towards the entrance gate.  When they saw Sarah climb out the other side, they started running.

Sarah had to put her arm out to keep them from hugging her and accidentally dislodging her pump.  A million questions came at her all at once; three voices trying to get information at the same time.  They had been so worried. The hospital wouldn’t tell them anything. They thought she would die. The news media had interviewed them and asked a bunch of questions about the upcoming meet and their coach. Dania blamed herself for causing the accident. How bad was it? Is she ok now? What about the meet tomorrow?  What about the season?  Would she still be able to coach? Would she still be their coach? Would she be allowed to ever run again?

Isparana answered most of them before Sarah could even compose her thoughts.  She was impressed with how easily her new sister could take charge of a chaotic situation.  Sarah just leaned against the warm fender of the car, her track suit jacket zipped up to hide the hose in her chest, and let Isparana handle everything.

After the girls had calmed down, Sarah outlined her practice plan, making sure each girl knew what she would be doing.

And then Isparana told her to go sit in the bleachers.

“But I’m your coach…”

“And I am your angel,” the girl replied sternly. “I promised Mr. Thomas. Go sit. Or I will gouge out your eyes and shoot you with the gun.”

Sarah sighed and headed for the bleachers. Isparana had won that race before Sarah even got out of the blocks.

As Sarah sat reclining comfortably in the stands, she noticed that the girls, all four of them, seemed to have a new confidence about them, as if they knew – they absolutely knew without a doubt – that they would win.  For the first time since she’d started working with them, she believed that they would win, too.

***

Sarah lay on the floor, absolutely stuffed from the meal Faye had prepared in her honor.  She had cooked Sarah’s favorite dish – spiced catfish over red beans and rice with a wedge of tangerine on the side – in bountiful quantities. The doctor had told her to eat as much food as she could to help her body heal its wound and replenish the lost blood, and she certainly took advantage of his advice.

“I can’t move,” Sarah said, flat on her back in the middle of the living room, “you guys will just have to find a new sleeping spot tonight.”

The girls giggled and softly padded over to their coach, their bare feet silent against the carpet as they carried their blankets and surrounded her on the floor.  As usual, they were naked.

“Do not move,” Isparana instructed  as she reached for the zipper on Sarah’s jacket.  Slowly she slid the plastic tab downward, careful to avoid snagging the surgical tube as she opened the center of the coat until it parted completely.  Meanwhile, Vella was tugging on Sarah’s pants, the elastic sliding easily over her hips and down her firm thighs, her legs curved with muscle from years of competitive running.  Sarah didn’t resist as the clothing was removed from her body.  She was too full and too tired to do much more than lay on the floor and watch as she was surreptitiously stripped.

Isparana then lifted Sarah’s head and cradled it in her lap, tracing a line delicately around the woman’s cheeks and nose, Isparana’s raven black hair forming a curtain around Sarah’s face.  “In my old country, there is a ceremony,” she said, “and I would like to perform it on you, if you are willing.”

"I am but a simple convict," Sarah said with a smile, "Do with me what you will."

***

“And it’s a beautiful evening for a track meet here at Perseus Financial Stadium.  Hello, everyone, I’m Jimmy Gentile with my partner Gene Urquart, bringing you every second of every race in this year’s Penn Relays Race of Champions Invitationals. Gene, tell us what we can expect tonight.”

“Well, Jimmy, on paper, this meet means nothing – absolutely nothing – on the season record books, but it means everything to these teams that are here tonight. This is an invitation-only event, which means you have to prove you can run with the big dogs if you want to run in the Penn Relays. Ninety-nine percent of the teams that have a successful showing here will win the State Finals. Make no mistake, folks, champions are tested here first. The coaches know it. The runners know it. And the people in the stands know it.  The big story coming out of this year’s meet is the reemergence of former Ascension star Sarah Siobhan - a perennial Top Three finisher in the high school circuit four years ago - to the racing world. She had world class three-point-eight speed, but she never managed to place any higher than third, and for a good reason. Only two racers were faster than her – Bobbi Briggs and Jeannette McCoy – two names that everyone knows for bringing home gold medals at the last Olympics. Those two ladies were on the same cycle, same distance, and same class as Siobhan and buried her every time she lined up for the gun.  After graduation, Briggs and McCoy kept racing while Siobhan seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. She just flat disappeared from the racing scene. Now, she’s back, coaching for her former arch rival, Stalin High. So much for being true to your school!”

“Ha, ha, ha. That’s right, Gene. Siobhan is back, but she almost didn’t make it.  Tell us a little bit about that.”

“Folks, two days ago Sarah Siobhan was a corpse.  She was flat-lined. That’s right. She was legally dead, suffering from the same clotting condition that killed her mother, multi-Grammy winner Shannon Siobhan.  Fortunately, Sarah Siobhan was with her relay squad and they managed to keep her alive until a trauma team brought her – literally – back from the grave. She’s not supposed to be here at all.  She went to the hospital and ordered – ordered, Jimmy – the doctors to remove the access line to her heart so that she could be here tonight.  The doctors told her could die again if she came - but there she is, in the red jacket to the right on your screen folks, talking to her team and giving them some last-minute instruction.  Oh how I would love to be a fly on the sleeve of one of those girls right now to hear what she’s telling them.”

“You know, Gene, its stories like that that really emphasize how important the Penn Relays are. When a coach is willing to risk her life just to be here, you know its a big race.”

“And you know, Jimmy, the crowd tonight is one of the biggest I’ve seen. You see that folks?  Those of you watching at home? You see that big orange block of people at the end of the track?  That is the entire population of the Leighton Acres penal farm, who have turned out – in force – to support the Stalin High track team and one of their own – Isparana al Faisal – who just recently completed her sentence there and is now anchoring the four-by-four-hundred relay for the Stallions.  This is quite possibly the first time we’ve seen something like that at a high school track meet, and it might also be the last if a riot breaks out.”

“Don’t worry, Gene, I see plenty of security around those convicts.  I'm sure the guards will hit them with the stun guns at the first sign of trouble. So what can we expect from the other teams?”

“Ascension is a favorite to win every year and this season is no different. Four great runners with blistering speed led by legendary coach Adolphus Johnson. They should place no lower than second in most of the events and leave the table scraps for the others, most likely Arlington Academy under Luigi Alonso, who is postponing his acceptance of the National team job just so he can coach here tonight.  But this isn’t just a two-horse, or even a three-horse, race.  Stalin, Jefferson, Montgomery, and Demedici will be barking at their heels every step of the way. Rounding out the field will be Freedom and Slowacki, two underdog programs who may yet turn in a surprising result under the right circumstances. A slip on a wet surface, a footstep out of bounds, a missed exchange by a rival, and any of the teams here tonight could find themselves moving up a position and bringing some metal home with them.”

“And there you have it folks, the competitors for this year’s Penn Relays Race of Champions.  We’ll return after these words from our sponsors.”

***

Sarah thought her heart was going to explode. 

Sitting in the coach’s box was a far different experience than actually being the one doing the running.  The waiting was the worst part; waiting before the race, waiting for the official results, waiting for the next race to come up, wondering if she had the right runners in the right slots.  The stress was killing her.  She would gladly have switched places with anyone in a race singlet for the opportunity to burn off some of her nervous tension in a quick one hundred meter burst; even if it killed her.  Again.

"You might have been a winner if you had any sort of a kick."

Sarah recognized the voice even before she turned her head. It was her old coach, Adolphus Johnson.  His black hair was grayer than she remembered. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the field. Was he serious? She couldn't tell. Then she saw a grin pull at the corner of his mouth as his eyes slid over to her.  A low chuckle as he extended his hand towards her.

She ignored his hand and instead leaned over and gave him a hug. "You bastard," she replied with a smile, "I thought you were serious."

He gingerly put his big dark hands around her.

"Its ok," she said, "I won't break."

He laughed. "I always knew you'd come back eventually.  I just didn't know how long it would take.  I got all this gray hair waitin' on ya."

Sarah smiled and nodded at the field. "How do you stand it? The waiting. The tension. I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"I already have.  What makes you think I can stand it?"

Sarah laughed. "Was it like this when I was racing?"

"Worse," the old coach replied, "because I kept waiting for you to discover your kick. I should've known you were a lost cause."

A smile, a giggle, then Sarah looked at him. "Thanks. I needed that."

The old coach put a hand on her shoulder. "So how you been doin'?  I know you went to State but you sort of dropped out of the scene there for awhile. You look good. You been trainin'? You're probably the finest lookin' corpse I've ever seen."

"I fell into a pretty bad funk, but I've been busy trying to turn everything around. I'm engaged, I have a couple of new projects lined up, and while I was under the influence of anesthesia I discovered I had a sister who is an angel."

Adolphus looked at her, slightly confused, and laughed. "Ok. Maybe I should get me some of that anesthesia, too. I could use an angel."

"Will I do?  I've been to heaven and back.  I know the way now."

Adolphus laughed, the deep familiar laugh she remembered.  It felt good to hear it again.

"So do you miss it yet?" he asked.

"What?"

"The racing. Do you miss it?"

She thought for a moment.  She remembered how it felt to race James on her first day in the Program.  She remembered how it felt to run the cross-country course with Chastity, Vella, and Dania nipping at her heels.  And she remembered running the stadium stairs with the girls.

"You know, I didn't until you brought it up!"

He chuckled. "I know. My coach pulled that on me when I first started coaching, and look where I am now. Case full of trophies. Banners in the gym. Two books in print.  Maybe that will be your legacy, too."

Sarah grinned.  She'd already written one book. Maybe it was time to tackle a different subject, something closer to her heart.

"Coach Siobhan?"

"Yes?" Sarah replied as she turned towards the voice.

She recognized the man instantly.  It was the new National team head coach.

"Hi, I'm Luigi Alonso", he said, extending a hand, "I've been following your story in the media.  I think it's amazing that you're here tonight."

Sarah was star-struck. "Thanks," was all she could get out.

Adolphus bailed her out. "Congratulations, Lu, on the promotion."

"Thanks, A.  And thanks for the cup.  It'll have a special place on my desk next week in New Columbia."

Adolphus nodded. "Give my best to your wife and Emily."

"Thanks, A. Will do. Say hello to Louise for me,"  Luigi then sat down in his designated spot and pulled out his roster, preparing for the races.

Sarah sat in her chair like a mute. Bookended by two legends of racing, she felt severely out of place.

***

A light drizzle had begun to fall.  It was the sort of misty wetness that came out of the air itself, sometimes floating upwards on a breeze, the particles caught in the lights of the stadium like magic pixie dust.  With the final event of the evening – the four-by-four hundred - still to be run, she knew the track would be slick and dangerous with the speeds the runners would be pulling.  Most modern tracks had incorporated a bank in the turns as a safety precaution, but Perseus Financial Stadium wasn’t one of them.

Sarah wanted to be out there with her team, getting them mentally ready for what was considered the make-or-break event of the meet.  Because of the distance and the number of runners involved, winning this race could propel a fifth-place team to the highest podium.  Losing could send a first-place team to the basement.  There were a lot of points to be won if a runner could handle the conditions; a lot to be lost if she couldn’t.

Each of her girls had performed well so far. Dania had led the charge early with a second-place finish in the fifty meter sprint, her shorter, muscular build favoring a quicker reaction time out of the blocks only to be caught in the final five meters by a hard-charging girl from Ascension.  Vella and Chastity had earned third-place finishes in the one hundred and one-fifty meter sprints, respectively.  Again Ascension had won those races.  But the real shocker was Isparana besting two Ascension runners in the two hundred meter event to capture the gold and keep Stalin's points total close enough to make Sarah's former coach nervous.  It was the classic Ascension versus Stalin battle that Sarah had known when she raced. Except this time, she was wearing Stalin red.

With ten minutes to go before the final race, the track marshals had shepherded her to the coaches boxes, where Federation rules dictated she remain until the race had concluded. Adolphus and Luigi had taken their seats on either side of her, each man diligently studying his notes as he calculated and re-calculated the probabilities and scorings of potential finishes.  Sarah didn’t bother.  She had more important things to worry about.

Like where her team had gone.

She scanned the crowd milling around the field, her eyes focusing on every person in a red coat, hat, or singlet. No Dania. No Vella. No Chastity. Most shockingly, no Isparana.

Shit!  Where were they?

The marshal signaled the five minute warning.  Still no sign of her girls.  She rolled up her scoring sheet and banged it nervously against the firm muscle of her thigh.  She wondered if they were boycotting the race as a protest of some sort. She wondered if maybe she had pushed them too hard.

Then they appeared, a cluster of red out of nowhere; chatting excitedly with each other.  As a group, they took a light jog to warm up their muscles and shake off their nerves; preparing themselves physically and mentally for the greatest race of their young lives.

With two minutes to go, the marshals cleared the track of spectators and athletes.  All of the runners stripped off their foul-weather suits and placed them under the watchful eyes of the infield marshals, then returned to the track.

With one minute to go, the grand marshal gave the order for runners to take their places.

That was when, in unison, each of Sarah’s girls hooked their thumbs in the waistband of their shorts and stripped them off, then tossed them carelessly onto the infield mud.  A cry went out from the stands as the girls turned to reveal what was written on their bare bottoms.  Sarah couldn’t see, so she turned to Adolphus, who had raised a small set of binoculars to his face. “Coach, what are they doing?” she asked him.

He laughed and handed her his glasses. “See for yourself.”

She took the small silver tubes and peered through them, focusing on Dania, her lead-off runner.  There, stenciled neatly in red marker across her butt, was “Spank Me Sarah”.

She lowered her head and groaned, “Oh, no ….”

Suddenly a bright light was shining on her. She looked up and into the black, lifeless glass lens of a camera.  The eyes of the world were upon her.

Luigi handed her his earphones.

“… and I have to tell you, this event just keeps getting better…”

“Right, Gene.  Coach Siobhan must really be a great coach for her runners to give her that sort of tribute.  That’s certainly not something you normally see at The Penns.”

“Hahaha!  Jimmy, you are absolutely correct!”

Sarah dipped her head and tried to cover her face.

“But right now, she looks more embarrassed than loved, Jimmy.”

Sarah could feel her throat start to tighten.  She didn’t want to hear any more. She knew she was about to lose it. She handed the earphones back to Luigi as tears began to form in her eyes.  She wiped at her face as the crowd around her whistled and cheered their reaction to seeing her on the large-screen displays that dominated each end of the field.  Adolphus leaned over the short wall and gave her hug.  Luigi extended his hand, then gave her a hug, too.

All that did was forestall the inevitable. First it was a choke, then a sob.  And then the floodgates opened.  She reached for Adolphus and buried her face in his neck.  The stress and the strain of the last two weeks came pouring out in the salt-tinged drops that collected on the collar of his foul-weather jacket as the crowd clapped and cheered around her.  The race hadn’t even started and she was already an emotional wreck.

“That’s ok,” her former coach was whispering in her ear, “let it all out. Go ahead. I’m right here.”

The sound of the referee’s warning whistle pulled her away from the dark man’s jacket.  Then came the classic call for runners to take their marks.  Dania bent down in a sprinter’s stance, her pert bottom raised prominently into the air, displaying the words “Spank Me Sarah” to the whole world.  Then came the bang of the starter’s gun.

Through eyes blurred by tears and mist, all Sarah saw was a red-topped form as Dania burst from the blocks to lead the pack down the front straight-away.  Her lead began to dissipate as she entered the turn, carefully stepping around the deeper puddles on the track as her ankles strained to control the torque being exerted on her bones.  Through the turns she kept her speed well as the other girls faded back, her compact frame absorbing the lateral stresses on her joints while preserving her velocity.  She exited the turn with a five-step lead over the second-place girl.

Down the straightaway the other girls began to catch up, their longer strides covering more ground with each step.  A remote camera mounted on a track chased Dania as her muscular bottom flexed and bounced through the flat turn, the cheeks advertising “Spank Me Sarah” to the entire sporting universe.  The pack had closed considerably as Dania entered her final turn, her shoes kicking up spray from the growing puddles.

Vella, waiting for her in the exchange bracket, began to trot as she extended her hand backwards blindly to receive the baton. She heard Dania approaching and began to accelerate, then felt the slap of the metal tube in her hand and a smack on her naked rump. Vella, encouraged by the spanking, exploded out of the zone.

The darker girl looked like a rocket as she drove her body forward down the lane, her arms pumping as another rail-mounted camera followed her down the track and through the first turn.  Runners from Ascension and Slowacki were close behind with Arlington Academy in hot pursuit, fighting to catch the bare-assed runner that begged for her coach to spank her. Every step kicked up a comet’s tail of spray behind her as she whipped around the course.

Exiting the turn, Vella still had a lead, hanging on through the straightaway as the other three schools jockeyed for position behind her.  Then, she was into the turn with Arlington and Ascension drafting off of her, their feet leaving echoes in the puddles on the track as they sped past. Coming out of the turn, she pointed to Chastity, signaling her to get ready.

Chastity nodded and began to run, her right arm back, hand open for the exchange. Chastity heard Vella’s shoes slapping against the wet rubbery surface of the track, giving Chastity a warning of her proximity. Vella shoved the baton into Chastity’s open palm and spanked her on the ass, sending the blonde-haired girl down the track with Arlington, Ascension, and Slowacki in pursuit.

As Chastity powered down the straight, she could see two slower runners on the opposite side, each girl fighting to avoid coming in last.  She remembered Sarah’s instructions to her about lapping traffic. Never slow down. Simply avoid.  The last place runners are running their own race.

She exited the turn and hit the back straight in full stride, extending her lead over the other three schools.  Sarah had told her – throttle up in the straights, cruise through the turns, throttle up again coming out of the turn.

The two slower schools were making their exchange as Chastity exited the turn and headed for the exchange zone.  Isparana was there, bouncing nervously with anticipation, her perfect ass decorated with her salute to her coach.  Chastity couldn’t see her pursuers, but Isparana could. She signaled the length of Chastity’s lead to the blonde runner, helping the girl understand the urgency of the exchange.

Chastity placed the baton in Isparana’s hand at the same time Ascension and Arlington made their exchanges.  It was a three-way tie as all three anchor runners burst from the zone and accelerated down the straights in front of the rail-mounted camera. The crowd reacted to the runners, knowing that victory now rested with each girl’s individual performance.

They were three abreast as the trio came up on the two slower runners who hugged the inside line going into the turn.  Isparana, pinned against the rail, had nowhere to go.  She tried to squeeze between the two slower runners and Arlington on her shoulder, hoping the girl would slide up the track and give her space.  But that girl was pinned into her racing line by the Ascension runner on the outside.

Somebody’s feet clicked with someone else’s and all five runners were sent stumbling onto the track.  Isparana tried to hurdle a falling girl, but another skidded underneath her.  Her foot, landing on an uncertain surface, buckled.

Sarah could hear her scream all the way on the other end of the track.

“Isparana!” echoed through the stadium loudspeakers, a boom mic picking up the vocalized concern of the rookie coach.  Grabbing the rail of the box’s wall, Sarah leaned as far as she could and screamed again to the girl; her broken runner who lay rolling on the gritty track grabbing at her leg.

Instinctively, Sarah hurdled the wall and broke into a dead sprint towards her.

Dania, Vella, and Chastity were also running now; running towards their friend who lay on the track helplessly shrieking in pain.

Up high, on platforms all over the stadium, broadcast cameras spun from the crash scene to focus on the red-jacketed blur who was darting from the coaches box across the infield towards her fallen runner.

Chastity saw Sarah first and yelled at her to stop, but her voice was lost in the pandemonium of the stadium. But Vella heard her, and she also yelled a warning to Sarah.  Now Dania was changing her direction and running to intercept their coach, trying to keep her from killing herself in front of millions of people.

Sarah didn’t hear them.  She was focused on the figure of her friend sprawled on the track, crying and holding her leg, her long dark hair wet and matted and lifeless.  As Sarah came upon the scene of the crash, she suddenly felt a stabbing pain in her chest.  She knew she had pulled her sutures apart and was now bleeding internally.

Sarah collapsed on the girl, wrapping Isparana in her arms like a mother protecting a wounded child. “Isparana!” she cried.

“I am so sorry!” Isparana replied, “I am so sorry I disappointed you!”

“No! Oh no, Ispy,” Sarah said, “You’re my angel! You’ll always be my angel!”

Dania, Vella, and Chastity were around them now, arms interlocked as they formed a protective shell around their coach and their friend.  Cameras flashed and recorded the scene with their unblinking eyes, capturing the moment forever; three girls with “Spank Me Sarah” emblazoned on their naked ass cheeks guarding their coach as she cried and wailed over her broken angel.

***

“Congratulations. You made the front page.”

Sarah opened her eyes as Thomas dropped a print-out on her belly, careful to avoid the fresh wound where the doctors had gone back in to close up her chest.  There in the center of the declaratory page of the news was a picture of Sarah holding Isparana as the legs of Dania, Vella, and Chastity surrounded them, the red writing on their asses prominently displayed.

Sarah laughed. “Of all the pictures they took, they had to use that one.”

“Can I see?” Isparana, naked but for the cast on her foot, asked from the bed next to her.

Sarah passed the paper over to the girl.  “Awwww,” she said, “I can see why they used it. You are so sweet!”

Thomas looked at the two naked women. “Do you guys always sleep in the beds nude?”

“No,” Isparana replied, “we never use the beds.  We sleep together naked on the floor.”

Thomas grunted.  He pondered that image for a second, then focusing on Sarah’s exposed pubis, he said, “And when did this happen?”

“Huh?” Sarah replied.

He pointed to her exposed sex, the mound shaved bare.

Isparana giggled.

Sarah flashed a devilish grin.  “They caught me in a helpless moment.”

Thomas grunted again.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Sarah asked, holding out a demanding hand to Thomas, “Where are the results?”

“Oh, those,” Thomas said innocently, “those will be along shortly, so you may want to put some clothes on.”

“Who is coming?” Isparana asked, unconcerned that she was exposing her body to the man.

“Does it matter?” Thomas replied, “I’ve seen both of you naked already, and you’ve both paraded around the school naked, but that doesn’t mean everyone that comes to visit you will want to see a peep show.”

“Are you suggesting I’m no longer attractive just because I have a hole in my chest?” Sarah asked.

“And I have no clothes anyway!” Isparana answered, “Coach Sarah is very mean and takes my only outfit to be cleaned.”

“And what about Chastity and the other girls?” Sarah added, “Are you going to make them get dressed, too?”

“They already are. I came prepared for certain contingencies,” Thomas replied.  Calling down the hall, he bellowed, “Girls!  Coach wants to see your new outfits.”

Sarah heard the sound of footsteps plodding gently down the hall, accompanied by a muffled giggle.  Then, in a row, Chastity, Vella, and Dania entered the room and stood at the foot of the beds.

They were dressed in tailored Leighton Acres convict uniforms.  In a choreographed sequence, they all knelt down on one knee and extended their hands, palms up, waiting to be cuffed. “We are here to service your needs,” they all chimed together.

“Oh, God help me…” Sarah muttered, covering her face with her hand.

Isparana laughed.

***

There was a gentle rapping on the door.

“Come in,” Sarah called out, tugging the soft blanket higher on her chest.

The door creaked open cautiously, paused, then opened fully.  A familiar face poked through.  Then another. Then another.

It was Bill.  And Adolphus.  And Luigi.

A look of surprise swept over Sarah’s face.

“Hello, ladies.  We heard you might be naked,” Bill said, “and I just wanted to steel myself for the shock.”

“Funny guy,” Sarah replied as Isparana giggled.

“Sarah,” Adolphus said, “we wanted to bring this to you personally.”  He extended towards her a print-out of the official meet results.  She quickly grabbed the paper and began to scan it, her eyes darting from column to column.

“Where are the 4-by-400’s?” she asked.

“Oh, that,” Adolphus replied, “that’s still being decided.”

Sarah looked at him, confused.

“There was some controversy with the conclusion of that race, since five of the eight schools involved in the race were unable to finish.  They reviewed the camera footage and it looks like there were multiple simultaneous fouls.  The two slower runners failed to get off the racing line for faster traffic, the outside runner failed to make room for the inner runner, and your girl stepped in a puddle and may have been out of bounds when she tried to move up the track, which factored into the crash.”

“That means you’re in second place overall,” Luigi said.

Sarah sighed with disappointment. Once again she had come up short. Her chance to earn the piano was now gone.  Her dreams of starting a music conservatory were dead.

“But don’t get down,” Adolphus said, “one thing was decided last night.”  He turned to the door and said, “Girls!”

Chastity, Vella, and Dania entered, wearing their Leighton Acres uniforms and carrying a large trophy.  Inscribed in the base was “Coach Of The Meet”.

Sarah’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack,” Bill deadpanned.  “And it came with a check for twenty large. The meet is already being called the Sports Event of the Century by the three largest news outlets.  Viewer ratings were through the roof.  You can’t turn on a set without seeing a replay of 'The Big Crash'.”

“I… I don’t know what to say…”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice,” Adolphus suggested.

“Thank you!  All three of you!”

“It wasn’t just us,” Luigi said, “the other coaches agreed.  What you did was the embodiment of what coaching is all about; preparing your runners, bonding with them, making them a team, and most importantly, caring for their well-being.  When your girl went down and you came over, she didn’t complain about her injury.  The first words out of her mouth were an apology for disappointing you.  That’s not something we, as coaches, get a lot of.”

“Ooohhh,” Isparana cooed, “and I meant it. Coach Sarah works very hard for us.  Thank you for the kind words.”

“You are so very welcome,” he replied, facing the girl covered by the blanket, “I would also like to invite you to try-out for the National program, after you graduate.”

Isparana’s mouth fell open, her face identical to Sarah’s just a few minutes before.

Sarah’s head snapped over to look at her friend.  She reached a hand out towards the stunned beauty. Isparana turned to her, her mouth still open in shock. She clasped Sarah’s hand and smiled.

“Would I still be able to go to college?” Isparana asked.

“Yes, if you make the roster, technically you would be part of a National developmental squad, but racing for whatever university you happen to be attending. That’s assuming you get into college.”

Sarah and Isparana squealed with glee.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Isparana said again, “I would get up and hug you, but my foot is in a cast and it is difficult.”

“That’s ok,” Luigi replied with a wave of his hand.

“I’d get up and hug you, too,” Sarah said, “but Thomas cuffed my foot to the bed so I wouldn’t exert myself.”

The three men laughed politely.

“No, seriously,” she explained, “he did.” She reached down and yanked the blanket away from her leg.  There, locked around her ankle, was a bright chrome shackle with the distinctive “LA” insignia engraved above the keyhole, with a chain running to the rail.

That just made the men laugh harder.

Sarah folded her arms and scowled.

Just then, an alarm chirped.

“Time to roll over,” Isparana explained to the men. “Mr. Thomas makes her roll over every hour so she does not get clots from laying in one position for too long.”

With a sigh, Sarah shifted her position, rolling over onto her side, dragging the blanket with her.

The girls started to giggle.  Adolphus and Luigi did, too.  “What the…”, Bill said, trying to comprehend what he saw.

“What? What?” Sarah looked behind her and realized she had inadvertently exposed part of her ass to the group.  There, written in neatly-penned handwriting, was part of a word.  She pulled the blanket off so she could see the entire saying, exposing the rest of her bottom to the men.  Because of the angle, she still couldn’t see what someone had written on her cheeks.

“Isparana…” Sarah begged, “What did they do to me?”

Isparana giggled and shook her head.

“Thomas?” Sarah asked.

“Dearest, it says ‘I am very mean’.”

***

Sarah was sitting quietly in her bed, naked, reading “A Tale of Two Cities”, a pair of hobble shackles chained to her ankles.  Thomas had slipped then on while she had slept, replacing the manacle that had held her directly to the bed frame. The shackles would permit her some movement around the apartment, while at the same time preventing her from doing anything stupid, like running.  Isparana, also naked, was sitting in the bed next to her, giving herself a pedicure on the one foot that wasn’t encased in a protective boot.  Sarah hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks and it felt good to just have a moment to recover from the stress of the last week’s go-go-go schedule.

Then she heard Thomas’ unmistakable stride as he came down the hall.

Not bothering to knock, he simply walked in on the two naked women, pulling a luggage cart behind him.  On the cart sat two boxes.

“Hello, ladies,” he said to the two women, “play time is over. Time to get to work.”

He lifted the first box and placed it onto the table next to Isparana’s bed. Lifting a small black computer case from it, he said, “Here’s your homework for the week, young lady.  You may be in bed, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have responsibilities.”

Isparana stuck out her lip in a pout as Thomas swung a small writing desk over her lap and placed the computer on it. 

“Where’s Faye?” Sarah asked, as Thomas next moved the cart towards her.

“Let’s just say she’s volunteering at Leighton Acres for a few days. With both of you gone, I had some vacancies to fill.”

Sarah looked at him suspiciously. “Thomas, what are you doing to her?”

Thomas returned her gaze and smiled. “She’s taking your place.  Sort of.  She’s been assigned to the fields where she can put those arms to work.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did,” he replied. “She asked me to. Forced me, practically. Just for a few days.”

“Thomas…”

He held up his hands. “It was her idea.  She said I owed her for your safe return.  I told her you were damaged goods now, so the offer of a bunch of bananas was off.  Instead, we negotiated a settlement.  I get stuck taking care of you and she gets two bunches of bananas and a few days in the system.  She even wanted to use the old ox plow from the museum collection. I told her we used the motorized combine now, but she wanted the full experience. So…”, he shrugged his shoulders, “…for the next few days she’s getting it. Funny thing is, when the other girls saw her dragging that thing across the dirt, some of them cheered her on.  This morning a few of them wanted to try it, too, so I decided to turn it into a contest and let them have some fun for a few hours. They said it was great exercise.”

“Did they race? Who won?” Isparana asked.

“They did race, and your coach is an impressive woman,” Thomas replied.  He turned back to Sarah and said, “She also mentioned training for a rematch against you.  You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?  I’ve nearly lost you twice already.”

Sarah pursed her lips in contemplation. “Hmmmm…”

“Sarah,” Thomas warned, “I’m not above chaining your ankle to that bed again.”

Sarah pouted like a child. “Oh-kay…” she said dejectedly.

“Good, because now you have to put your warden badge on and do some honest-to-goodness prison work,” he said, placing the second box on the table next to her bed.  “These are case files of applicants seeking admission to your Siobhan prison outreach program for student athletes. Apparently you’re an overnight sensation, because there are two more boxes just like it in the van.  Chastity and Dania are bringing them up now.”

“I hadn’t planned on interviewing anybody. I’m kind of incapacitated at the moment.”

“Too bad.  I warned you that this job didn’t always fit into your personal schedule.  Heart injury or not, there are people that need you so you better get cracking.  Also, I’ve had some papers drawn up to transfer temporary authority to me to run the Siobhan Penitentiary side of things for the next two weeks that you need to sign.”

He slid a piece of paper in front of her.  She quickly scanned it and signed on the line, then slid the paper back to him.

“Between your prison and mine, don’t expect to see much of me during your recovery, which means…”  He paused, pointing to Isparana, “… that you will be responsible for keeping Ms. Siobhan focused during her work day, and making sure she gets enough rest at night to keep her functioning the next day.”

“Thomas…” Sarah started.

He held up his hands again, silencing her. “I’ve arranged to have your father’s license extended as well, just in case I need a back-up on anything.  Coach Bill will be handling the track duties while you’re out.  And since your two little assistants go back to school tomorrow…”

“Two?  Where’s Vella?”

“She’s at Leighton Acres until tomorrow.  I’ll let her tell you about that.  Anyway, I made the first selection for your outreach program.  She’s waiting in the living room right now.  She’s been assigned to serve you and Isparana as a valet.  Her file is in that box, right on top. I figured it would give you a chance to know her better.  She can stay here as long as you need her, or I can arrange to have a different one every night, if you want to do that. It’s up to you.”

“You mean you’re screening them before I do?”

“Just this first group.  Someone had to.  There’s way too many applications coming in for me to carry all the files so I eliminated most of them back at the farm. And speaking of being overwhelmed…” He tossed a small silver box at her. “Here’s a phone for you. I started re-directing calls from the media to this phone so they wouldn’t tie up my reception system. Now you can do your own dirty work so my people won’t have to.”

Sarah turned on the device. “Thirty seven calls? How long have you had this?”

“About an hour now.  You’re getting quite a few requests for interviews. Hotchkiss is also calling with offers on a promotional deal with their vehicles, if you’re interested.  And you still have to draft your RFP for the demolition of Alpha barracks before Code Enforcement catches up to you.”

Sarah sat looking at the box of files, the phone in her hand, and thought about the volume of work she had in front of her.  She let out a long sigh that inflated her cheeks before passing over her lips.

“Welcome back to the real world,” he said with a chuckle. “Makes you wonder who’s really being punished by the prison system, doesn’t it?"  He turned and looked at Isparana, her leg demurely covering her sex.  "Now, ladies, I must leave you. I have a business to run.”  With that, he leaned in and hugged a naked Isparana, then turned and gave Sarah a long kiss, drawing a pleasant purr from the woman.  She seductively drew a line between her breasts and gently shifted her hips.

“Are you sure you have to leave so soon, Mister Leighton?” she growled sweetly, “It’s been a long time…”

“Not in front of the children, Mother,” he replied, nodding towards Isparana.

“I am feeling a bit sleepy,” Isparana whispered, “I will turn the other way and nap.”

Thomas considered the opportunity briefly.  “That’s a generous offer, but I wouldn’t want tomorrow’s headlines to read that Sarah Siobhan cheated death twice just to die the next day with my cock between her legs,” he said with a soft chuckle. He kissed her once more, then quickly turned and walked back down the hall before he could change his mind.

Sarah heard Thomas say something to somebody, then she heard the front door close.

Dania and Chastity soon appeared, each carrying a box full of files.

“Thanks, guys,” Sarah said, “You can put them on the floor by the desk.”

The two girls, still wearing their Leighton Acres uniforms, set the boxes on the floor then turned and did a facetious curtsey to their coach.  “Mistress has a guest,” Dania said cutely, “would she care to speak with her now?”

“Yes,” Sarah said as she opened the applicant’s file, “go ahead and send her in.”

The two girls disappeared down the hall.  Sarah, reading the girl’s file, heard the unmistakable clinking of chains as her guest shuffled into the room.

Sarah looked up. Before her stood a diminutive girl with soft Asian features, dark almond eyes and straight black hair. Though petite, she looked fit.  The applicant knelt on the floor, hands out, palms up, a full set of shackles around her wrists, ankles, and belly.  They looked excessively large on her.

“You poor thing!” was all Sarah could think of as a greeting.  “I’m going to kill him!”

Isparana giggled, then looking at her coach, said, “I think Mr. Thomas did that to make you angry on purpose. He remembers how upset you were when I did that, when I first met you.”

“Girls!” Sarah shouted, “Would you come here with the keys, please?”

Dania and Chastity both came into the room.  Giving an exaggerated curtsey, they said, in unison, “Yes, mistress?”

Sarah snorted. “Would you take those ridiculous things off of her?  And quit with the ‘Yes, mistress’ stuff.  It’s a little annoying.”

“Yes, mistress” they both replied, giving another curtsey.

Sarah growled, causing Isparana to giggle.

As the two girls released the assignee from the chains, Sarah read from the file. “Transportation of controlled substances, possession, conspiracy to distribute...”  Sarah looked up at the frightened girl.  “What exactly did you do?”

The girl kept her face lowered.  "I was stopped for a traffic offense and they found drugs in my boyfriend's bag.  Unfortunately, my boyfriend wasn't with me at the time, and now he's no longer my boyfriend."

Sarah studied the woman kneeling on the floor, face down, palms up, framed on either side by the two pretend servant girls.  "Look at me," she commanded.  The convict raised her eyes.  Sarah didn't see any tell-tale injection marks on her arms or feet, and her eyes were clear and bright whereas a user's would be unfocused and twitchy.  She didn't seem like a druggie.

"Have you been tested?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, ma'am.  Urine, hair, saliva, stool, blood, bone, and dental. I came back negative. The results should be in my file."

"I don't care if they are in your file or not.  I wanted to hear it from you."

"Yes, ma'am."  The girl looked nervously at Sarah and Isparana laying naked in their beds.

Sarah thought the girl was acting very odd about something.  Maybe it was something she couldn't see yet.

"Stand up and take off your blouse," Sarah said.

Stephanie hesitated, then stood up.  Tentatively, she reached for the hem of her blouse and slowly lifted it up, first revealing her taut tummy, then a pair of petite breasts capped by dark brown nipples, the skin open and pliant.  She pulled the light orange cloth over her head and shook her hair out, the straight black strands falling back into place.  She had a well-toned musculature, beautifully symmetrical in her arms and chest.  Sarah guessed she was a dancer; strong feminine lines without being unnecessarily heavy and bulky.  Sarah studied her as the convict folded the top and knelt back down to set it carefully on the floor. Her hands were dainty and deliberate in her movements as her breasts moved just slightly with her ministrations. Then she stood back up, her hands resting at her sides. The girl's eyes glanced first to Sarah, then to Isparana, then back to Sarah as she shifted nervously on the carpet.

The girl was definitely uncomfortable about something, but she was trying very hard to hide it.  Was she keeping something a secret?  "Is something the matter?" Sarah prompted.

"No, ma'am."

Sarah's eyes narrowed.  She was getting tired of this guessing game. "Something is the matter, and when I ask a question I expect an honest answer.  Now, is something the matter?"

The girl swallowed. “I … wasn’t aware that nudity was a requirement when I agreed to participate,” she replied.

Isparana smiled and said, “Yes, she is very mean to us.  She makes us get naked and do exercises every night, or else she will gouge out our eyes.”

Dania and Chastity tried to stifle their laughter.

“Guys, would you leave us for a minute?” Sarah said.

The two girls curtsied and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

“Do we frighten you?” Sarah asked the girl.

“No, ma'am, but I’m …” she started, running her hand along her loincloth, “I’m not a lesbian.”

Isparana burst out laughing.

“Shhh!” Sarah admonished, “It’s an honest mistake.”  Sarah looked at the frightened young woman and said, “We’re not lesbians.  Isparana and I were part of the Human Mores Program launched at Stalin High. I guess we’ve both kind of gotten used to being naked around each other.  And around Dania, Vella, and Chastity and they in front of us. They're from Stalin High, too.    We’re comfortable enough with each other that seeing each other naked isn’t a problem. I suppose we sort of take that for granted.  I apologize if we made you feel uncomfortable.  You can stay dressed in your uniform, and I’ll tell the girls to stay dressed in theirs from now on.  Deal?”

The girl shifted nervously. "I'm just a convict. I will obey orders,” she replied.

Sarah was getting a little exasperated with the girl.  “You may be a convict, but you're still a human being and you will be treated that way.  You’ll learn quickly that either you fit in, or you don’t. And if you don’t, that’s fine.  You can explore other opportunities on other assignments.”

“But if you do stay,” Isparana said, “it will be very nice.  You will have fun. Trust me.  I was frightened, too.  I thought I was going to a slave camp.  But Coach Sarah tells me it is ok and that I am safe.  Not until later do I believe her.  And now, we are sisters.”

Sarah looked at the girl and said, “Now tell me how you came to be here. Again.  If you’re honest with us, we’ll be honest with you. Ok?”

The girl started to relax. “Ok,” she replied, “To answer your question, it was a mistake.  I had a boyfriend who had left his bag in my car.  I was pulled over for running a red light and they found his stuff.  His bag..." she paused remembering the moment in vivid detail, "... was full of stolen prescription drugs. Pain killers and steroids.  I pleaded not guilty, but it was my car and there was no way to prove the stuff was his. He denied ownership, so here I am."

Sarah looked at her file.  Her story matched the arrest report.  Then, something caught Sarah's eye. "You're emancipated?" Sarah asked.

“Yes, ma’am.  I’m a registered artist and my parents were pocketing my commissions.  I filed for emancipation so I could retain future royalties from my work.”

“And what exactly was your art?” Sarah asked.

“I was a dancer and a keyboardist.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped. Now she knew why Thomas had sent her over.

Isparana’s head spun towards Sarah. “Now you can sleep with us on the floor, too!”

“I’m sorry?” the girl asked.

Sarah realized how Isparana’s comment must’ve sounded. “Its not what you think.  Before practice, we gather in the music room at school for a nap.  The girls sleep on the floor while I play the piano.  Now it seems Ispy wants me to join them.  Might be nice to listen to someone else play for a change.”

The girl’s face lit up. “You have a piano?”

Sarah nodded. “A concert grand Steinhauser.  It’s not ours yet, but I have access to it whenever I want to play.  We have to win a championship in order to claim ownership.  Unfortunately, as you can see, our best runner is on her back.”

The girl looked at Isparana. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were an athlete.”

Isparana gave a quizzical glance to Sarah. Sarah glanced at Isparana, then at the girl.

“You don’t know who we are?” Sarah asked.

The girl shook her head. “Mr. Leighton just said it was an outreach program, and that I would be acting as a valet to the woman in charge.” 

"Oh, well, my name is Sarah Siobhan, and of course this is..."

Then a lightbulb went off in the girl's head. “As in Coach Sarah Siobhan?  Then you must be…”

“Isparana Siobhan," Isparana said, having a bit of fun with her pretend sisterhood, "Pleased to meet you.”

“I saw your crash!” the girl exclaimed, not catching the joke, “You were all over the news!”

Sarah looked at Isparana and smiled. “Congratulations. You’re a celebrity.”

“And a citizen,” Isparana replied. “I think that is more important.  That is something I earned. The crash was a mistake.”

The girl turned to Sarah, eyes wide open in shock.  Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “My apologies!  I just... I'm sorry... I just didn't expect..."

“You can shake my hand if you don’t mind my being naked,” Sarah said with a grin, lifting her hand towards her potential valet.

The girl came over to accept Sarah’s proffered handshake.  As she did so, Sarah grabbed her and pulled her down on top of her.  The girl, startled, gasped as she fell on top of the naked woman.  Sarah wrapped her arms around the defenseless girl and held her tightly, not letting go.  She could feel the girl's heart beating against her own.  The girl did not resist.

"Tell me your name."

"Stephanie."

"And you play the piano."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And your crime is as you say it is."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sarah felt for subtle changes in the girl's breathing and heart rate, the body's incriminating guilt when the brain tells a lie.

She guessed the girl was telling the truth, though her heart was already beating rapidly and making things difficult to judge.

Sarah continued to hold her, to see how long it would be before the girl would try to escape.

“Are you ok?” the girl asked after awhile, “Are you hurt?”

Sarah could feel the girl's voice reverberating across her own ribs. “No, I’m fine.  I was just curious to see if you were being honest with us."  The girl continued to lay on top of Sarah, her bare breasts pressing against Sarah's as she waited patiently for Sarah to relax her hold.  Sarah purred pleasingly, then released the girl, who slowly pushed herself away from the bed and stood up, unsure of what to do next.

"Stephanie," Isparana cooed, "that is a pretty name."

"Thank you," Stephanie replied with a warm smile.

Sarah grinned at her new valet.  "I'll need you to bring Leighton Acres loincloths for Ispy and I.  She can't get track pants over her boot.  She'll also need her top."  Sarah fingered the bandage on her chest. "You might as well bring mine, too. I don't need to keep looking at a hole in my ribcage to remind me that I should be dead."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now strip," Sarah said with an icy tone to her command.

"Ma'am?"

"I don't like to give orders twice," Sarah said sternly.

Stephanie paused, the joy draining from her face.  She then bowed her head and reached for the strip of material around her waist.

"Stop," Sarah said. "Tell me.  Now that you know us, are you still afraid?"

The girl paused, still looking downward. "Yes, ma'am."

"Of what?"

"Of what you might order me to do next."

Sarah weighed the girl's response.  "Would you disobey an order if you didn't like it?"

The girl continued to look at the floor. "No, ma'am," she replied flatly.

"Unfold your loincloth and show yourself to me."

Slowly, the girl slipped the embroidered "LA" crest through the strip of fabric around her waist until the end swung freely in her hand. She then began to feed it back through the knot in the small of her back.  The girl shuddered slightly as she undressed herself, the fabric collecting in her small, delicate hands as she unwove the strip from around her hips.

Then, she was naked, standing in front of her mistress, waiting for her next order.

Sarah studied the girl trembling before her. Two strong legs rose up to join firm hips shaved bare except for a tiny triangle of fur pointing to her slit. The triangle of muscle descending from the girl's flat tummy added to the effect.

"Turn around. Slowly. I want to have a good look at you."

The girl swallowed, then slowly began to rotate, letting her new warden examine her body, the muscles of her legs twisting under her skin as she moved, her pert fanny flexing softly.  The girl was small, but her musculature was tight; definitely a dancer's build. Sarah could see the potential in her to some day make a good bodyguard with the right training.  Maybe Thomas had seen that, too.

"That's enough.  If you're uncomfortable, you can put your uniform back on.  But do get some clothes for Ispy and I.  We're going to feel a little out of place with you clothed."

"Yes, ma'am."  The girl quickly grabbed her clothing from the floor and exited the room.

Isparana turned and glared at Sarah. "That was cruel!" she hissed, "When I say you are mean to me, I think I am telling a joke, but what you did just now was not a joke!  Why were you mean to her?  She is only here to help you!"

Sarah thought for a moment. She had her reasons, of course.  She was checking for injection marks and testing the girl's obedience. But, she also remembered how she had felt when she had been the one at the mercy of an authority figure, forced to strip in front of the dean and his guard. 

"I was just trying to get her over her shyness..." Sarah offered.

"That is not the way!" Isparana growled.

Just then the girl entered the room, still naked, carrying two neatly folded stacks of orange clothing.

Isparana hissed at Sarah again.

"Stephanie," Sarah said, "I wanted to apologize for what I did to you just now.  I saw you were uncomfortable and I took advantage of you. I shouldn't have told you to do something you didn't want to do, and I'm sorry."  Sarah paused, thinking of what to say next. "I don't know you very well and I guess I was expecting you to fight back.  But you didn't.  You did what I told you to do. An angel told me I was being mean, and I promise I won't do it again.  I'll be more responsible, but please, don't just blindly follow my orders.  If you have a question or concern, tell me.  I promise I won't get my feelings hurt.  And, please get dressed."

The girl looked at the floor and smiled, then looked at Sarah. "Thank you," she said with relief, "But I will get dressed when you are dressed."

Sarah smiled.  The girl was defying her and getting comfortable with her at the same time. "Well, I will tell you that you will be exposed to a lot of new and wonderful things, and there will be times where you'll have to think quickly to keep up with the situation around you.  Unless you can show some strength, you're going to get run over, if not by 'them' then by one of us. Isparana can help you with a few things, like the media interviews, but she has her own set of responsibilities and can't handle both my work and her work.  That's why you're here.  You will need to be me, when I can't be. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That means, that every time you speak to someone, you will be speaking under my authority, and they will be compelled to obey you as if I were speaking to them myself. You might need to command them like I just now commanded you.  I will need you to be strong. You'll have to fight back sometimes.  Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't just follow my instructions blindly.  Ask me questions.  If you have any concerns, please tell them to me.  You might know something that I don't, and I would appreciate your insights. Ok?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And quit always saying 'Yes, ma'am'!"

The girl closed her eyes and nodded. "Domina."

Sarah was impressed.  Stephanie knew Latin.

"Where did you learn...?" Isparana asked before Sarah could.

A grin pulled at the corner of the girl's mouth. "I may be a musician, but that doesn't mean I'm not familiar with the Ancient Humanities."

Isparana turned to Sarah and said, "I like her.  If you are mean to her again, then instead of being your guardian angel, I will become her avenging angel!"

Sarah laughed. "So what else do you know?" Sarah asked her new valet, who stood unclothed between the two reclining women.

"I can change a tire, mend a sock, and cook a pot roast; provided you have a roast to pot.  I study ancient cultures for fun, can shoot and clean a gun, and know the difference between herringbone and hound's tooth.  In addition to playing the piano, I can sing fairly well, can touch-type 75 words per minute, have a smattering of knowledge of law and history, and am comfortable in, on, and around water. I can paddle a canoe, kayak, and surfboard and free-dive, and have done so often. I studied martial arts for a couple of years for self-defense and I can also give a pretty good massage."

"Can you drive a stick shift?"

Stephanie paused, uncertain. "Yes, ma'am," Stephanie replied pensively.

Sarah's eyes narrowed. The girl was being secretive again.  "What are you keeping from me?  Tell me or I'll have Dania and Chastity give you a spanking, and they love to spank bad girls."

Isparana nodded. "She is right. They do.  You should not try to keep your secret."

Stephanie grinned and confessed. "I may have done some illegal street racing."

"In what?"

Stephanie pursed her lips, then answered, "An MGC Warsprite with a six-speed intercooled triple-cam engine, duel pipes, and Rocker Eagles.... Domina."

"You drove an MGC, too?"  Sarah smiled, then turned to Isparana and said, "I like her, too."  Sarah then asked Stephanie "Would you like to join our team as my new valet? We could use someone like you."

The girl smiled. "Yes. Yes I would."

"Great!" Sarah said, as she tossed the small phone to her new assistant. "Ok, now we get started in earnest. Your first task will be to call the media and get the interviews started and deal with the Hotchkiss people.  Ispy, you can be the celebrity on this one.  Stephanie, you can handle the scheduling.  Meanwhile, I'm going to try and take a shower without killing myself."  Sarah threw her legs over the edge of the bed and started to sit up.

"Domina..." Stephanie started, "I wish you wouldn't do  that."

"Hmm?" Sarah replied, trying to pull herself up.

"You shouldn't use your pectoral muscles yet.  Roll onto your side, slide you legs off the bed, then stand up," Stephanie said as she moved to help her boss.

Before Stephanie could get very far, Sarah did as she was instructed, landing on her feet but facing away from her valet.

Stephanie giggled and covered her mouth, trying to mute her laughter.

Sarah knew she'd been the victim of mischief again.  She sighed. "Ok, what'd they write this time?"

Stephanie replied, "For Sale As-Is".

"Thomas", Sarah grumbled, a touch of mirth pulling at the corners of her mouth.

***

Sarah felt a pain in her chest.

She'd had a busy day reviewing files, asking questions of candidates, answering questions from insistent reporters, dealing with potential contractors, and trying to negotiate sponsorships for her outreach program from Hotchkiss and sporting apparel companies.  The girls' stunt of running bare-assed in the rain had struck a chord with the public and was quickly becoming the stuff of legend, and with that came a firestorm of attention she was struggling to control.

Stephanie had been right there by her side, helping her move around, monitoring her heart, and keeping Sarah from overexerting herself.  She'd even proven that she could, indeed, give a pretty good massage. The girl's talents had already proven to be valuable assets.

But still, Sarah felt a great unease, like something terrible was about to happen.  She couldn't put her finger on it.  It was just ... there, like a whisper in her mind.

She wanted to get up.  She rolled over onto her side like Stephanie had told her, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, letting her momentum carry her onto her feet.  Then she was standing, there on the floor, naked, alone in the dark.

Isparana, boot and all, had retired to the living room to sleep with her friends.  Stephanie had joined them, chatting amiably while Sarah tidied up a few unfinished business things before settling into bed.  Sarah had been alone when she fell asleep.

Now, she felt the presence of someone else in the room.

Instinctively, she crouched down, hands out, balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to defend herself from any direction.

But no attack was forthcoming.

She looked around, but saw only shadows.  Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone else was in the room. Someone hiding. Someone watching.

Something evil.

She froze. She took only shallow drawn-out breaths.  She could feel her blood pulsing through her veins as she listened for any noise of someone else's respiration.

Perhaps she could flush her intruder out into the open.

She dropped to the floor and kicked blindly behind her, striking only air.  She then whirled and through a perfect knife-edged punch forty-five degrees in another direction, finding only emptiness.

Then, rising like a great samurai from the shadows, she saw the shifting mass, larger than herself.  Her heart tightened as she pivoted to present as small a target to her attacker as possible.  She could see the shape of the helmet, the ornamentation shaped like a great crescent as the beast lifted a mighty weapon and moved to strike her.  She fell backwards, dodging the blow, only to land with her back against the bedroom wall.  The monster raised its battle axe again. 

She tried to scramble to the right, but her legs refused to move. Her hands searched furtively for something, anything to deflect the monster's blow as it came down on top of her.  By a miracle, she found a metal rail in her hands and brought it forward to defend herself.  But time was slowing now, and she could see the rail buckling as the heavy-edged weapon continued to crash down upon her.  She could see the glint of sharpened metal as it prepared to crush her chest.

She screamed.

She lifted her hands and brought them together, trying to catch the head of the weapon and stop its trajectory.

Instead she felt flesh.

A weakness!  She reared back and delivered a blow against her attacker, feeling the skin give way to bone as her hand drove deeper into her attacker's body.

"Domina!"

Sarah snapped awake.  She was laying in bed, her sheets twisted around her legs and a bruised Stephanie sitting over her, trying to hold her still.

Sarah's heart was beating a mile a minute now.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You had a nightmare. Your thrashing woke me up, and then you screamed.  Whatever you were dreaming must have been bad."

Now more lights were coming on in the apartment and Sarah heard the shuffling of feet down the hall.

A naked Dania appeared first.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Sarah answered.

"Not you; her," Dania replied, "I know you can take care of yourself in the dark, but poor Stephanie is liable to get the shit kicked out of her if she isn't careful."

Stephanie held the side of her neck. "It's just a bruise. She didn't hit anything important."

Vella and Chastity were now in the room, and soon Isparana, dragging her boot, came to check on things.

"What is the trouble?" Isparana asked.

"I had a nightmare. It was nothing. Go back to bed."

Isparana looked at her. "No, it was something. You do not have nightmares like that when I am with you. I will stay with you tonight so you can sleep."

Sarah began to feel a little lightheaded. "Steph, maybe you better call Dr. Restropo. And tell her to bring her monitor..."

***

Dr. Restropo removed the portable monitor from Sarah’s chest and gave a concerned “hmmm”.

Sarah, trying to interpret her reaction, asked, “Well? How bad is it?”

“Very bad,” she replied, “I’d say one of the worst cases I’ve seen.”

A collective worried groan came from the cluster of girls gathered in the bedroom.

The doctor looked over her shoulder, then turned to Sarah and asked her “Do you want them to hear this?”

“Yes.  They’ve been with me through most of it already.  They might as well stay for the final act.”

“Ok,” the doctor said solemnly, “Well, the good news is that it’s not your heart. Everything checks out fine.  Even the scar tissue is healing nicely.  I’m clearing you for light exercise early, but I would suggest that the wound stay covered for a few more days to keep it from leaving a mark.”

“Then,” Sarah said, confused, “what’s the matter with me?”

The doctor looked at her. “Well, it’s bad. Very bad.  And the cure can be very difficult if you don’t have the right equipment available. Fortunately, I understand that’s not really an issue for you since you seem to have the right man for the job.”  The doctor pulled out a slip of paper and wrote something on it. “Here’s my prescription,” she said, handing Sarah the note.

Sarah looked at it. She didn’t recognize the drug. “Procreate? Is that something new?”

The girls started laughing.

The doctor smiled. “No, silly. It’s exactly what it says. How long has it been since you’ve … you know.”

Was she serious?  Sarah had to think for second.  There was that time in Thomas’ office, before she left on her assignment. “Does a blowjob count?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Sarah sat in her bed, perturbed. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“Do I have to put it in plain terms for you? Ok, I will. How long has it been since you’ve had a man’s cock inside your vagina?”

Sarah had to think. How long had it been?  “About a month, I guess?”

“About?  More, or less?”

“Probably more.”

“Then you definitely have an emergency on your hands. I’d say you’re Code Blue all the way.”

Sarah looked at the slip of paper. “Seriously?”

“Yep. That’s my official medical diagnosis.  You see, the head of a man’s penis secretes oils during intercourse, and those oils interact with your lubrication.  You’ve gone too long without those oils and now your body is getting itself into a state of sexual panic. That’s why you had your nightmare. And your near-death resting heart rate isn’t helping things either. Your brain thinks its dying and scares itself back to life.  Tonight it went through its library of horrors and came up with a phallic samurai. Do you really want to find out what it will concoct next?  How many more of your people do you plan to attack? You've already bruised poor Dania and now Stephanie.  As a public safety service, I could inject you with synthetics, but I think you’d enjoy the real thing more.  And so would Thomas. Am I right?”

Sarah smiled devilishly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Sarah,” the doctor said in a serious tone, “it’s not the same for all women.  Some women can go for months, like sexual camels. But you’re different.  I’ve known you for a long time now and I’m not afraid to say that you’re a bit of a fast mover. And you’ve known Thomas for almost as long as I’ve known you.  You two have been a ticket since you were kids. As sexually active as you are, you’ve only had a handful of boys. That’s not a wide variety for your body to catalogue, and now, you’re – literally – chemically dependent on Thomas for your health.  I would suggest you call him this morning and make some arrangements for a conjugal visit today.”  The doctor nodded towards the line of girls behind her. “For your sake as well as theirs. Stephanie is lucky you didn’t crush an artery or crack a vertebra.  If you don’t fuck your fiancé today, I’m going to order her to strap you down every night until you do.”

A pitiful look swept over Sarah’s face as she thought of all the work on her desk waiting for her.  “Doctor’s orders?”

“Yes, and don’t lie to me later and say you did when you didn’t, just because you’re both too busy with your business plans. I might even make you pick one of your girls to witness it, if you keep resisting me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

The doctor rose a single eyebrow. “No? Pick one.”

Sarah sighed, defeated, and looked at her line-up of villainy. “Any volunteers?”

“I will do it,” Isparana said, “she tried with Mr. Thomas yesterday but I was in the room and I think I interfered too much.  This will be my punishment.”

“No,” Stephanie said, “I’ll do it.  I’m her valet. It’s part of my job responsibility.”

Dr. Restropo turned to the diminutive girl. “If he’s bashful, you may have to help him out. Are you up for that?”

Stephanie paused, her jaws clenched. “I will do what I must to serve my domina.”

***

“What’s so important that I had to come over first thing this morning?” Thomas asked as he entered the tenth-floor apartment.

“Mr. Leighton, sir, last night Ms. Siobhan had an episode,” Stephanie replied. “It warranted a visit from the doctor.”

“Why wasn’t I notified!” he bellowed.

“She wanted to tell you herself, sir.”

“Well, where is she? What’s going on?”

“She’s in the master bedroom, sir, waiting for you.”

Thomas charged down the hall as quickly as he could. “Sarah! Sarah, what’s going….”

He froze as he entered the bedroom.

Sarah lay nude, reclining comfortably on her bed, surrounded by flowers. “Well hello, Mr. Leighton,” she purred, “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Thomas blinked, trying to take it all in while staying focused on his task. “Sarah,” he started, “Stephanie tells me you had an episode of some sort…”

“Yes,” she replied, “and the doctor says you’re the cure.”

Stephanie now moved behind Thomas and wrapped her arms around his waist, quietly unbuttoning his jacket and easing it off of his shoulders.

“Sarah…” he growled softly.

“Shhh,” she whispered, “enjoy the moment.”

Thomas smiled, his eyes locked on his fiancée as Stephanie continued to strip him of his clothing. “Tell me, my love,” he said, “what prompted such generosity?”

“A dream,” she said, her fingers lightly dusting against her lean belly, “and let’s leave it at that.”

“And if I’m unable to perform in front of an audience?” he asked, tilting his head towards Stephanie.

“This is a medical emergency,” Sarah replied, “and she’s prepared to do whatever must be done to serve her domina.”

“Then tell her to leave the room.”

“I cannot leave, sir,” Stephanie replied softly.

“Doctor’s orders,” Sarah added, “there has to be a witness.”

“A witness? Why?”

Stephanie moved up closer to Thomas as she loosened his shirt, and whispered, “Because Domina questioned the doctor’s authority, and now you and I must suffer for it.”

Thomas chuckled, imagining the conversation that must have occurred. “Ok, I’ll try to make it quick,” he whispered to the gentle girl, “so you won’t have to suffer excessively.”

“Your charity would be very much appreciated, sir,” Stephanie replied, as she knelt down and removed Thomas’s shoes and socks.

Thomas grinned and looked at Sarah purring on the bed unclothed and unfettered. “No cuffs? No chains?  Is this a new Sarah Siobhan?” he teased as Stephanie loosened his belt and worked his pants off of his legs.

Sarah smiled. “It is, but I’m not ruling out a return to the old ways.  I didn’t want to frighten my valet so soon after she joined my employ. Still, I do find this stimulating. I hope you will, too.”

“You shall see presently,” he chuckled, as Stephanie moved behind him and prepared to strip off his last article of clothing.  Hooking her thumbs in his waistband, she delicately worked the material over the tool that Sarah needed so desperately, then carefully slid his boxers to the floor.

Sarah smiled. Thomas was already hard. “Well hello there, Mr. Leighton,” Sarah purred, “won’t you …”

Her sentence was muffled in mid-stream by Thomas’ mouth as he quickly moved over to her bed and gave her a deep, hard kiss.  She moaned softly with pleasure, giggled slightly, then moaned again as he pressed harder against her.

It had been a long time since he had kissed her like that, and it felt good for him take her like that again.  Thomas released her lips as his hands stroked her body, feeling for her breasts, cupping them, teasing her nipples until they were long and proud.  She remembered how she had jumped when he had struck them with a riding crop. She remembered how she had choked and sobbed when they had felt the bite of his whip.

Now he was planting tiny baby kisses along her neck and across her chest, drawing a line to the dark peaks of her tits.  Then, his mouth was on one, squeezing the nub with his lips, licking the dark circle with his tongue as his hand caressed her other nipple.  She moaned and shifted her hips, signaling her desire as he pinned her hands to the pillow.

He smiled and looked into her eyes, the passion burning there.  His hand trailed down the length of her body and felt the opening of her sex, the passion burning there as well. 

She was ready.

He brought his hand back up and continued to stroke her breasts with his fingers as she spread her legs wider, opening herself to him as he positioned his manhood above her body.  He held himself up, his cock throbbing as he prepared to enter her.

Then, as Sarah had instructed, Stephanie’s gentle hand was guiding him in, rocking his balls seductively with her other hand as he lowered himself into the woman he loved.  Sarah moaned as she felt him sliding past the guardians of her tunnel and into her body.  When he was fully seated, the diminutive girl released her grip on his genitals and stood dutifully beside the copulating pair, ready to serve them as needed.

Thomas pushed slowly, driving himself into Sarah until she moaned with fullness. Then, he withdrew slightly, paused, and plunged into her again, forcing another moan from her lips as he slid deeper into her.  She lay on the bed, her mouth open and begging as he drove into her repeatedly, pressing her slender form against the soft linens.  A few more pumps elicited tender gasps of shock as he continued to push his organ into her, her breasts reverberating with the motion of his hips as he delivered one powerful thrust after another.

Sarah now wrapped her legs around his back, grasping him, clutching him against her sex as he slid up and down the length of her canal, driving himself into her.  She gasped and smiled with pleasure as he continued to assault her tunnel, working faster now as he lifted her towards the orgasm they both were seeking.

She fought to free her hands, helplessly pinned to her pillow by his powerful grip as he continued to thrust into her, aided by the grinding of her hips as she brought herself up to meet him on his downward stroke. 

He was quickening his pace now, and she was matching him. They were perfectly in synch with each other's movements; each anticipating the other's timing.

Then, every muscle in Sarah's body contracted and she thrust her head back as a shriek of pleasure tore from her throat.  He grunted with exertion, the cheeks of his ass clenched tightly as he shot his seed into her belly, reaching his climax at the same time she found her release.

Stephanie stood dutifully by her warden with a moist towel, waiting for him to withdraw, as the two lovers recovered from their exertions. 

With a pleasured growl, Thomas kissed his lovely bride-to-be once more; long and deep.  She looked up at him dreamily and mouthed her love to him as he prepared to dismount her. He kissed her, then lifted himself free.

Stephanie wrapped the moist cloth around Thomas' spent organ and pressed gently, letting the water sift against the softening tissue, cleaning her domina’s juices from his shaft.  Delicately, she wrapped the material around his tip, wiping at the thin line of cum that trailed from his sensitive cap.  He held himself in position as she cleaned his manhood, the girl stroking the remnants of his cum from his penis, and when she had signaled that she was finished, he stepped gingerly from the bed.

“C’mere,” he whispered huskily to Sarah, lifting her up and taking her in his arms.  He then asked the girl standing beside them, “Stephanie, would you give us the pleasure of your voice? You sing beautifully and I’d like to dance with my love.”

Stephanie nodded, and began to sing the first song that popped into her head.

Sarah glanced over Thomas’ shoulder at her, smiled, and then buried her face in Thomas’ chest as she started to cry.

Stephanie was singing “As Time Goes By”.

The same song Sarah had heard on her first night on her own; as a convict in Faye’s apartment a lifetime ago.

***

Stephanie exited the bedroom, pulling the door shut silently behind her.

Chastity pounced on her first. "Well?"

Stephanie smiled. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

The group of girls continued to look at her, waiting for the rest of story.

"It was quite beautiful actually.  I've never seen two people so completely in love with each other," she added, "I almost started to cry."

Dania pressed her, "C'mon!  Tell us all about it!  Give us the details!"

Stephanie looked at her and shook her head.

"Stephanie is right," Isparana started, "we should not pry.  It is a private matter between Mr. Thomas and Coach Sarah."

"Well, can you tell us what they're doing now?" Chastity asked.

"They're just... talking," Stephanie replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"About what?"

"About each other.  About things I don't know; various people, other places.  They did mention you guys though.  Domina said she really wants that piano.  Mr. Leighton offered to buy her one, but she said she could buy one, too, but that isn't the point. She believes what someone named 'Coach Bill' told her; that she will value it more if she works for it, like she did to make friendships with you guys."

"She said that?" Chastity asked.

"About us?" Dania finished.

"Yes, she thinks the world of you guys. Particularly you, Isparana.  She thinks you fell from heaven."

"Ohhh!" Isparana said, a smile pulling at her lips, "Not me. She is the one that is special.  She makes it possible for us to achieve great things."

***

“What’s going on?  What’s with all the cars?” Sarah asked as the Hotchkiss pulled up the driveway towards the Leighton Acres main house.  The narrow drive was lined with vehicles, some with non-district licenses and a few with “NEWS” stickers on the rear glass.

The girls in the back grew suspiciously quiet.

“They’re here to see you and the girls,” Faye said.

“Me?” Sarah asked.

“Yes. Thomas, Bill, and I invited them. I hope you don’t mind.”

“What is it? A party of some sort for the track team?”

“Something like that.  Thomas will tell you. It was his idea.”

Faye pulled up to the barn and parked in the spot Thomas had marked “Reserved For Ms. Siobhan”, and soon all six women were piling out of the vehicle, each of them dressed in their Leighton Acres uniforms.

Chastity, Stephanie, and Dania ran ahead as Isparana, aided by her new lightweight Hotchkiss boot, escorted Faye and Sarah towards the back of the house.

As they turned the corner of the garden wall, Sarah saw the most feared man in the district dressed in a tuxedo.

“Dad?” she asked, “What’s going on?”

Her father simply smiled and offered her his bent arm, indicating for her to take it.  She slipped her hand onto his elbow and gave him a confused look as Faye and Isparana walked on ahead and passed through the high garden wall, the gate swinging shut behind them.

Then she heard the beautiful voice of the night janitor, singing an aria accompanied by piano, as her father pulled her gently forward.

As they neared the entrance, the gate swung open, and Sarah realized what was going on.

It was her wedding day.

Sarah’s jaw dropped and a huffing noise came out.

“You sound like me, when you make me a citizen for college,” Isparana whispered, placing a Cilician bridal headdress on her sister as Chastity, no longer hidden behind the wall, handed the shocked bride a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

A white carpet ran in a line separating two fields of seats, each filled with guests who turned and watched her standing frozen by the gate. At the end of that white line of demarcation stood Thomas under a gazebo, and next to him stood Adolphus.  Behind him, fanned out along the podium, were Bill, Luigi, Gap-Tooth, and Barney, each in matching black tuxedoes marked with a corsage of small orange and white flowers.  Across from them stood Faye, Vella, and Dania, quickly joined by Chastity who hurried along the aisle to take her place in the line of maidens clad in their orange Leighton Acres uniforms decorated with delicate corsages of white Madagascar Jasmine.

On cue, her father began to walk slowly down the carpet, guiding his zombie-like daughter towards the altar.

It was the longest walk of her life.

Sarah was trying desperately not to pee in her loincloth.

Then, she was there, standing next to Thomas before the Reverent Holy Bishop Pilotus II as Isparana took her place as Maiden of Honor beside her.

The bishop himself!  Sarah could only stand there, trying to remember to breathe, as the robed man prepared for his ceremony.  She expected a bolt of lightning to strike her down for her sins at any moment.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, to unite this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”

Sarah tightened her grip on her father’s arm as the blood pumping through her body roared through her ears.  She began to feel a little light-headed. She was glad he was there to hold her up.

Her father was saying something, answering a question from the bishop.  She couldn’t hear his words due to the noise from the freight train running through her head.  Then his arm was gone and she was left standing, wobbly, by herself.

Isparana’s gentle hand was against her back, steadying her as Thomas answered the bishop, “I do,” his voice strong and certain.

Now the bishop was facing her and saying something.  She recognized her name and that was all. She knew she was supposed to speak, but a huffing noise was all that would come out.

Her angel whispered, “Say ‘I do’.”

“I do!”

Now the bishop was turning to Thomas and asking for a ring.

Adolphus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box tied with ribbon. Thomas accepted the box, opened it, and turned to his bride.  Lifting her hand, he told her how much he loved her, and how he swore to love her forever, even if he had to bring her back from the dead again.

The low muted laughter of four hundred voices came from behind her, waking her from her stupor.

Sarah smiled and whispered “Thomas, I love you…” as he slipped the ring around her finger.

She gasped when she recognized it. It was her mother’s ring; silvered with age but still ornate and beautiful.

Now the bishop was turning to her, and asking her for a ring.

She began to panic. She hadn’t planned for this.

Then a nudge from behind her as Isparana handed her a box.  Sarah opened the small package, hoping there was something actually in it.  Inside was a simple gold band forever etched with the marks of a lifetime of hard labor.

It was the ring of a farmer who had died before his time.

Sarah began to tear as she slipped Jonas Leighton’s ring on her husband’s finger.

“By the powers invested in me by the Holy Orthodox Church, I pronounce you Man and Wife. You may now kiss…”

Sarah was already on Thomas before the bishop could even finish, drawing celebratory cheers from the crowd behind her.  Isparana and the bridesmaids were now hugging her, congratulating her, telling her how they would love her forever and would never forget this day.

Now the men surrounded her as the women drifted off to mingle with the guests.  Deep voices and strong hands wished her good health and prosperity, telling her that she was getting a good man, and that she was truly blessed.  She hugged all of them, her tears on their coats as she thanked them for their help and support, and for being there for her when she needed a friend.  She thanked all of them, remembering exactly why they were her friends and the lessons they had taught her.

And then the dinner, prepared under the watchful eye of Faye from ingredients grown and harvested at both Leighton Acres and Siobhan AquaFarms, a small fish farm her father had set up after his retirement from the prison system. More tears as guests passed by her table, offering their blessings and presenting their gifts to the new couple.  She thanked them all as Stephanie discreetly recorded their names and their offerings.

Next came the dance with her father.  She clung to him like a child, her head buried against his chest as they swayed to the song he had danced to with her mother.  He sang softly to her, remembering the lyrics perfectly all these years later, the same song he had sung to Sarah when she was a baby, and for the first time in a long time she felt secure and protected.

Then she was passed to Thomas.  She looked up at him and smiled as the music changed to the song he had selected, and again she cried as Stephanie sang “As Time Goes By”.

“Thomas,” she asked, as they swayed on the dance floor, “Everything is perfect. How did you know?”

“You’ve touched a lot of people these past few weeks, my love.  I sorted through the cards you received when you were in the hospital and I contacted your friends personally.  Everybody wanted to contribute something, even your assignee friends here at the farm who have nothing of their own to give.  They made all of these floral arrangements themselves, just for you, after finishing their regular work.  Faye and Vella have spent the past couple of days helping out, too.  And because I already had Isparana’s commitment to be your bridesmaid, she was able to help me sort through the cards while you were recovering from surgery.”

Sarah lifted her head. “My bridesmaid?  Is that the debt you made her pay for her freedom?”

He grinned. “It wasn’t much of a price, I’ll admit. You saw how eager she was to accept the offer that night.  I guess the real price was her secrecy.  That must’ve been the true burden for her; trying to keep that from someone she considers to be her sister.  But, considering everything that happened afterwards, I’d say she got the better end of that bargain.”

Sarah smiled. “No,” she said, “I did.”

***

by Thomas Chaser, April 2011.