Curse Karma College Part 3
Third part. The next one might take a bit more work; I'm incredibly grateful for all of the feedback so far, which helped me to realise what were the more successful elements.
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Curse Karma College Part 3
All through Thursday, the entire school seemed to be electrified. Even the very youngest students – many of them too young to fully appreciate the videos – thought it all very funny. With two of the Three now having been publicly exposed and humiliated, everyone was expecting and anticipating the next victim to be Cleo Valentine herself.
This was obviously a source of great concern to Cleo particularly, who had to deal both with the fear that something would indeed happen soon and the eager anticipation of many in the school. This alone was almost bad enough for the petite redhead, who'd gone to such lengths over her time at the school to cultivate, if not fondness, at least a wary respect and fear among the student body. And now, instead, everyone was wondering just how much of her pale flesh would soon be seen by all and sundry.
It had taken all her considerable skills of persuasion – and, no doubt, a bit of tearful filial pleading from Kaya – to spare Kelly from being punished after her surprise appearance at the Future Young Leaders of the Future Leadership Forum. An accident in a science lab, she'd gotten scared, ran to find Cleo... neatly skipping over just what exactly had been on her face... There had been little that Cleo could do, however, about the punishment that Kelly received for beating up Anna Richardson – and on camera no less! It was enough that she wouldn't be suspended, expelled, or maybe even face criminal charges. She was certainly going to be in detention for the rest of her time at the school – and Cleo was angry enough at Kelly not to care.
Even for Kelly, it had been incredibly stupid – and horribly embarrassing for Cleo personally! She'd been preparing that speech for months, a chance to secure her future and show up Felicity Jenner at the same time. Couldn't Kelly at least have burst in during her speech instead? Instead she'd been unable to finish her speech, everyone being too distracted after the sight that Kelly had presented, and then had to put with snide comments about the people that "some" chose to associate with.
Cleo growled in frustration and anger, absently rubbing her erect nipple as the hot water sluiced over her head.
To explain: several years ago, Cleo had arrived early one Friday morning in order to finish preparations for a major party over the weekend, only to discover to her surprise that the school was almost abandoned at this time, the students already anticipating a Saturday lie-in. Most other days were a different story, with Monday in particular seeing the school swarming with procrastinators frantically trying to complete weekend homework, while other days had pre-school clubs.
But Friday was a haven, a time where Cleo could get some peace and privacy - something sorely lacking at home since she had three younger brothers – to plot schemes and plan parties however she so desired. And she could even take a long, luxurious shower before dressing in her uniform for the day ahead – nobody else used the showers by the gym block in the morning, with even the few early-arriving cyclists naturally using the showers nearer the entrance. These ones were right out of the way, on the other side of the school, and entirely for Cleo's own use, letting her bathe in peace. Or, when she was feeling a little tense, make use of the privacy to... ease some frustrations.
Her hand snaked down, over her pale stomach, brushing across the trimmed patch of red she kept specifically to remind her lovers that yes, it was her real hair colour, and down to... yes. She let her mind drift, pondering the problems that faced her right now. Who most needed to be destroyed?
There was Kaya, of course, always Kaya – the enemy she kept close. The most important thing there was to be aware that Kaya was always plotting against her, and to take appropriate precautions in consideration of this. The events of Monday had weakened Kaya considerably, but she could well be more dangerous in this state if she decided that she had less to lose, and she hadn't been left as vulnerable by it as Cleo would've predicted – she'd still been able to prevail upon her father to protect her somewhat, she'd apparently gone deep into denial to cope, and she was so eager to get back into things that she was returning today, on crutches. How she'd cope with the widespread presence of the videos of her was another matter, and it remained to be seen what effect that would have on her mental state and her reputation.
A girl on her mind since the Future Young Leaders of the Future Leadership Forum – Felicity Jenner. She wasn't much to look at compared to many in the school – a platinum-haired girl of average height with a cute figure but nothing particularly special. At least, until she fixed her bright blue eyes upon someone and started talking – she spoke with incredible intensity, with a gorgeous voice, and she became astonishingly animated whenever she did so. The passion with which she frequently spoke was incredibly persuasive, and Cleo had even found herself nodding in agreement during one of Felicity's speeches. Yet in many ways, she was not as much of a direct threat to Cleo as her skills would suggest – Felicity had little interest in the politics of the school, choosing to focus solely on her future political aspirations.
Many politicians start out as optimistic idealists, wanting to do what they can to make the world a better place. Over time, the necessary compromises to achieve power and the inevitable temptations once they have done so gradually corrupt them until, without even realising it, they wake up one morning to find themselves hollow shells devoted to nothing but their own influence and gain.
Felicity was a few steps ahead of most budding student politicians.
As one of the daughters of an incredibly wealthy Old Kennelworthian (the other being her twin sister Flora, who was very different), she had further advantages. Not that Cleo herself had hesitated to exploit them in the past – the enormous Jenner home was a spectacular party venue – but her constant sneers and superior attitude towards those who didn't have a similarly shining future made her disliked by most.
Nonetheless, she'd certainly achieved a measure of fame and influence within the school, but this made her more a target of opportunity than a serious threat – someone to destroy to boost Cleo's own power. It would be nice to do it, but there were more pressing targets at the moment. She already knew exactly what to do when the moment was right.
Cleo's fingers darted deeper, faster. It may seem odd to combine plotting the destruction of enemies with such personal entertainments, but it was simply how Cleo was. One relaxed her mind, one her body; for her, they were natural partners.
Her other hand cupped her breast, and she twirled her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. They were a nice size, she thought – nowhere near the size of Kelly's, of course (that had mattered intensely to her for a time when she was younger) and probably smaller than Kaya's, as well – but enough there to hold, and not so much as to make it impossible for her to forego a bra if it would break the lines of a dress.
Over time, she'd grown to recognise the advantages that her pale, slightly pointy breasts had over the more obvious charms of Kelly's massive melons. They didn't bounce out of control if she moved too quickly or give her balance problems or lower back pains; just enough for her or a lover to cup comfortably. They weren't the sole focus of anyone's attention, but just one fine part of the whole – most importantly, they were hers. She was used to them just the way they were. She smiled, her mind drifting again.
Of those who held more direct power within the school hierarchy, the most obvious was the Feminist Society. Some would call them men-hating feminazis – and why not? It was a very useful slur, and one that Cleo had happily used against them in the past. That it wasn't fair mattered not - even the members of the society who most fit the stereotype were motivated more by youthful exuberance than anything else, and since the entire group were teenagers making their first forays into such philosophies they tended to disagree with each other most of the time. But if they did agree with each other long enough to raise an issue, the school staff would always take it seriously – it wasn't worth the potential for negative publicity if they didn't.
They had occasionally used this power well – Cleo was very happy to be able to wear trousers during the coldest parts of the winter, especially because Kaya and Kelly didn't. It had taken quite heroic amounts of effort last winter not to laugh herself sick as Kaya had frozen her knees off in her usual short skirt – those long legs hadn't looked so good when goose-pimpled and trembling! - while Cleo remained comfortably snug and sexy in well-fitted trousers.
No, the real problem with the Feminist Society was its current head, Stephanie Chormer. She was attractive in a terrifying way, with dark blonde hair trimmed in a severe bob, and her trendy spectacles did nothing to conceal her dead, shark-like eyes. Cleo had to admire the way she'd clawed her way to power, but it was of a fragile kind – other than the Feminist Society itself, the rest of the student body felt much the same about Stephanie as they did Cleo – fear and dislike, mostly – with the exception that Cleo supplied entertainment and parties while Stephanie occasionally put a stop to them, such as the time she'd stopped the School Disco with a rather confused justification about it being a "meat market". Some of the Feminist Society may have believed it, but not anyone else. Probably not even Stephanie herself.
All of Stephanie's power came from her role in the Feminist Society, and could be destroyed the same way. Reignite a conflict within the group, and Stephanie would have nothing.
If Felicity had been born great and Stephanie had achieved greatness, then Claire Prentiss had had greatness thrust upon her.
She'd been a joyless prissy teacher's pet since before she'd arrived at the school, but what had been an unusual quirk in an eleven-year-old had become less amusing when she'd been made Head Girl at the start of this year, probably in an effort to balance out the more conventional and popular choice of Head Boy in Tom Steele. And she had striven to do so since then, making every effort to clamp down on any and all possible transgressions. She hated the Three in particular, for their various breaches of the rules, but especially for Cleo's parties, which she saw as amoral and illegal. Admittedly, they often were, but it wasn't like it was any of her business.
She could actually have been fairly popular if she had had any interest in such things – her unconventional and stark beauty was a topic of frequent conversation and envy. Her long raven-black hair actually worked with her pale skin, and her buttoned-up uniform couldn't entirely hide her impressive figure. It was really kind of a waste – Cleo would've loved to have a figure like that!
Destroying her would take a gamble. Exploit her hatred, and lure her into a trap, having her think she was exposing some great immorality. Or, conversely, shatter that perfect reputation – which would be more of a challenge, but even more satisfying.
Her fingers were moving rapidly now, and she couldn't quite prevent a whimper from escaping her mouth. She bit her lip to prevent a repeat – better safe than sorry – reducing her sounds to rapid gasps of breath and the slick friction of her sliding fingers, both covered by the hammering water.
Cleo's own skin was almost as pale as Claire's, though she thought it worked even better with her flame-red hair than with black. While she couldn't tan – she burnt in the sun far too easily – this at least meant that she had no tan lines to disrupt the gorgeous creamy expanse. One of her boyfriends – she forgot exactly which one – had described her skin as looking like "warm milk", which was at least evocative if almost entirely meaningless.
It did mean that any points of colour – such as her red bush – really did stand out. Also her nipples – the areolae were pale enough that they were barely darker than the rest of her boob and almost blended in, but by contrast her nipples were much pinker, and sensitive enough that they tended to start acting up on their own rather than just when she was cold or turned on. Right now, with her tweaking both of them furiously, they felt like tiny bullets.
There were a few potential rivals who'd achieved influence not through great success within the corridors of the school but out on the field instead. The constant failure of the boys' sports teams to gain glory or success for Charles Kennelworth had left a vacancy for the position of Jock-in-Chief; one which had been quite enthusiastically filled by Miss Erica Vickers.
She thrived at sports throughout the year, but above all was a football ace, dependably scoring the winning goal to net the trophy for the College year after year. And she partied as hard as she played – a reliable fixture who enlivened every party Cleo ever threw. Yet despite this, she openly disdained Cleo herself for being weak and girly – for doing more with her hair than just pulling it back into a rough ponytail as Erica did with her chestnut locks, for giving a damn about clothes and make-up, for actually having boyfriends rather than a procession of drunken lovers.
It would honestly be a genuine pleasure to orchestrate her downfall, and it would be as simple as scheduling a party right before a big game. Cleo doubted that Erica would play quite as well exhausted and hungover.
The last was a mystery. Leanne Amato's grades were no better than Kelly's, and her cheerfully dim demeanour was no more impressive either. Yet somehow she had become Cheer Captain... a role – no, a team – that wouldn't exist without her efforts.
Cheerleading had never been as big in Britain as it was in the US, and certainly not in schools like Charles Kennelworth. A decade ago, the idea that the school would ever have a Cheerleading team, let alone an award-winning one, would have seemed absurd. That was until Leanne Amato had decided to start one. And succeeded spectacularly.
In an American TV show, the Cheer Captain would be – well, it would be Cleo. In such stories, the cheerleaders are the school's elite, teenage succubi flouncing around in short uniforms and ruling the school. The Bulldogs differed from this in a number of important respects, starting with the fact that the majority of them weren't yet teenagers.
Well over half the team were from the younger end of the school: tiny adorable children – girls and boys – who had happily joined the team once Leanne and her closest allies had managed to start winning trophies. Tiny adorable children who worshipped Leanne as a living god.
Even the older ones, and Leanne herself, weren't primarily figures of sex appeal. Oh, they were certainly attractive – no girl flexible enough to do a perfect splits can be entirely repulsive to the opposite sex – but it was more a side effect of their astounding athleticism rather than the main point. Leanne herself was lithe and petite rather than properly sexy, and while some were attracted to her ceaselessly sunny attitude just as many found it intensely irritating.
To Cleo, Leanne was a bewildering threat, since she couldn't be certain how someone so unintelligent could have achieved so much. She couldn't possible be as stupid as she seemed – which meant she must surely be far more cunning indeed. To Cleo's eye, every cheerful smile only further proved the danger hidden beneath that brightly dyed short blue hair.
Leanne was a social and friendly girl who thrived on the company of others. A campaign of whispers to turn that against her – maybe even rumours vile enough to have her separated from her little minions as a "precaution" – would crush her spirit utterly.
These were her enemies, and that was how she could destroy them. She was still in control.
With a final gasp, it came. Pleasure swept over Cleo, and she felt her tension and worries slip away, and wash down the plughole with the water. After a moment to catch her breath, she stepped out of the shower feeling perfectly relaxed and ready for the day ahead – sadly, an attitude not destined to last for long.
It took her sleepy and sated mind a few moments to notice the problem. Her gaze swept over her towel, her toiletries bag, and... where were her clothes?
All the panic and tension she thought she had got past came rushing back twice as strong. Her heart was pounding hard, and she felt light-headed. She fought an absurd urge to cover her naked body with her hands, and she was suddenly incredibly aware of her own nudity.
Cleo took a deep breath, and focused on calming herself. She looked at what had happened.
All of her clothes – both her clean uniform and the casual clothes she had worn into school – had vanished entirely. Even the horrible scratchy spare robes that had been hanging by the door were gone. And yet her towel hadn't been touched – it was exactly where she had left it, so it couldn't have been tampered with or replaced. Who in the world would take all her clothes and yet still leave her with a towel?
*****
"You left her towel?!? What were you thinking?"
Kelly looked insulted and mutinous. "You only told me to take her clothes. You didn't say anything about a towel."
Kaya wanted to scream. How could anyone be expected to cope with someone that stupid?
She'd thought that playing on Kelly's resentment that Cleo hadn't stopped her from being put in detention – and that Cleo hadn't yet been embarrassed as they had – was a stroke of genius, especially since she couldn't possibly have snuck into the showers on crutches. But she'd underestimated Kelly's stupidity – it really wouldn't work half as well if Cleo could wrap herself up in a nice towel.
Still, there were a few things that the crutches would help with. Kaya had had a few days to think about things, and she'd decided that the only possible way things could've happened as they had was if Cleo had somehow set her up to be exposed like she had been. She didn't have the first idea how Cleo could've done it, but it was irrelevant. It was time for the little redhead midget to receive some long overdue humiliation.
*****
Cleo was about as calm as she could be, given the circumstances. Her mind raced as she considered her options.
Kaya would freeze, stay where she was – hide in the showers and hope for rescue. That wouldn't work – the next people to use the showers would undoubtedly be a class changing for PE, and she'd end up just as embarrassed then.
Kelly would panic and run, hoping to somehow escape. Ironically, that might have actually worked if she hadn't taken longer than usual in the shower working off her nerves; by now, however, the school was coming to life and there would be enough people in the corridors for her to have no chance of finding some clothes without being spotted.
But that wouldn't be the case forever. Soon, the bell would ring for assembly, and everyone would gather in the hall. Leave it a few minutes for the stragglers, and the corridors would be empty once more. She could sneak out, grab some clothes, and blame her lateness on traffic problems – a minor demerit at worst.
While she was waiting, she might as well get ready – she was going into battle, so she would need her warpaint. She towelled herself dry carefully, dried and brushed her long red hair, put on her make-up just as she normally would – a little around her eyes to draw attention to their beautiful emerald shade, some pink lip-gloss to make her lips stand out from her pale face (but not too much – with her white skin, it was all too easy to end up looking like a clown or a hooker).
The bell for assembly rang just as she was putting on the finishing touches. Perfect. She looked at her body in the mirror. Her make-up was just right, and her hair was fantastic. If she'd actually had clothes to wear, she'd be totally ready for the day!
Without that minor detail, the rest of the body was exposed instead. In the chill air of the changing room – or perhaps due to her nervousness – her nipples were hard again, standing proudly and horribly obviously from her pale boobs. And her flame red landing strip only served to draw attention – it might as well be a bright red arrow pointing to her exposed pussy. If only she hadn't just trimmed her bush earlier in the week, it would at least have concealed her to some extent! She sighed. It couldn't be helped.
She grabbed the towel, and wrapped in around herself, wishing for the first time in her life that she was a little shorter. She had much bigger towels than this at home, but she'd chosen a much smaller one to bring in today, not having expected to have to wear it. As it was, the towel was much shorted than she'd like – if it was high enough to cover her breasts and to tuck securely under her armpits it was barely long enough to cover her arse, looking like a mini-dress shorter than even Kaya would wear. If she so much as started to run it would flip up and reveal... well, everything!
Not that running would be wise – it would just end up with her slipping over, probably. She had plenty of time to find clothes while everyone was in assembly – all she had to do was walk calmly and swiftly. She checked herself in the mirror one last time, then strode carefully out through the door.
She immediately winced at the harsh feel of the gym block corridor on her bare feet, before carrying on more gingerly than before. At least she'd picked the time right – it was just as quiet as she'd hoped, with the entire school safely in assembly. She reached the exit to the building and peered outside carefully.
Charles Kennelworth College had grown over the decades, absorbing neighbouring houses and buildings as it did. Some of them had been knocked down and replaced with new, more appropriate, school blocks; others had been gutted and repurposed as classrooms while remaining their older outward appearance. From the gym block it was fortunately just a quick walk to the side entrance of the 'new' block – actually decades old – in which there would be any number of Lost Property boxes she could raid for suitable clothes. She stepped outside, shivering in the cold air; the rough ground under her feet was actually quite unpleasant.
Already beginning to relax, Cleo strode quickly over to the door, which refused to open. It was locked. This had not been part of the plan.
Pretty much all of the doors within the school were kept unlocked as a matter of course, for reasons of fire safety. For this to be locked like this was unlikely, and quite a horrendous stroke of bad luck. Cleo struggled desperately not to panic. She couldn't afford to waste any time. She moved on to the next door into the new block – which was also locked.
*****
By now assembly was in full swing, but Kaya wasn't listening to a word. Her thoughts had been on the other side of the school, eagerly anticipating Cleo's shock and fear as she discovered the theft of her clothes. Kaya assumed that Cleo would react in the same way as she would, and hide in the changing rooms hoping for help to arrive – but Kaya had no plans of letting her get away so easily.
With her mobility restricted by her bandaged foot, Kaya obviously couldn't be expected to sit among the rabble. Instead, she was allowed to stand by the doors, with the understanding being that she could make her exit before the rest of the students and thus avoid the crush. But it also allowed her to slip out before then – she could claim she was going to the toilet, or perhaps to take another painkiller for her poor, aching ankle – and make her careful way down the hall to the fire alarm lever.
*****
Cleo bit her lip, resting her head against the door as her thoughts swirled. For both of these doors to be locked was unlikely, but theoretically possible this early in the morning. After all, the reason she used the gym block showers was because this side of the school was hardly used so early on Friday; if the doors had been locked last night for whatever reason, it was just possible that maintenance hadn't yet got round to unlocking them. But it left her in some difficulty.
Up to now, she'd not gone outside of the narrow stretch of ground between the gym and the new block. It was tucked away and relatively closed in, which was certainly a great comfort for a girl wearing nothing but a too-short towel. But to get to any other doors would require her to step out into the open schoolyard properly – at which point almost anyone left wandering around the school might see her – and worse, she'd be visible through the window from the Hall itself if anyone in assembly happened to glance out. But she really had no other option – the longer she stood around waiting, the less time she'd have to find clothes before assembly finished, and there really was nowhere else she could go.
She steadied her breathing once again, resecured her towel, and stepped out into the yard.
If stepping outside had been unpleasant, this was far worse. The space felt horribly open and exposed to the barely-clad redhead. Every window of the school buildings towering around her seemed to glare down at her, burning straight through the flimsy towel. She tried desperately to ignore the feelings of exposure – at this point, she really couldn't afford to wait around – and went straight for the nearest door. By this point, she wasn't expecting it to be unlocked, and she wasn't disappointed. Her only option would have to be the main door to the new block – the double doors front and centre on the building and which were in almost constant use throughout the day.
The only problem was that they were still some way along the building, right in the centre of the yard – and directly across from the hall, in perfect view of the windows. She would have to move quickly. She set off at a swift walking pace.
She was halfway there when the fire alarm went off with a sudden screeching wail. Cleo jumped in surprise, almost losing her towel, and froze for a second as the adrenaline rushed through her. In the event of a fire drill, students were to assemble in the yard.
Where she already was. Where students would start pouring into from the Hall at any second. With this horrific realisation, Cleo at last broke into a desperate run. She had to get through the doors! Even then, she wouldn't be safe – the staff and prefects would start combing the rooms as procedure, to make sure that no students were hiding and skiving off from the correct fire drill. As her bare feet slapped hard against the hard stone of the yard she heard the doors to the hall opening before her, the mumble of voices as students started stepping out. She increased her speed, in as much as she could while struggling to keep the towel behind her, and not even realising that she was giving the first students through the door a free show of her cute little white ass.
As they first noticed, they stopped; the mumble of students invigorated by a fire drill in the middle of a dull assembly became the qualitatively more interested hum of students noticing and passing on in whispers that Queen Bee Cleo Valentine, naked-but-for-a-towel, was pelting headlong across the yard towards the doors – which of course motivated those at the back to start pushing through for a chance to see this glorious sight.
This, oddly enough, actually worked in Cleo's favour, the only thing so far which had. The relatively orderly egress of students through the doors became a scrummaging mob desperate to see, and naturally became slower as the flow bottled up in the doorways. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite slow enough, and the entire student body flowed inexorably into the yard, with the first fortunate few pulling out smartphones to record the sight before them as they moved in closer.
Cleo wasn't consciously aware of any of this, of course, focusing solely on the pounding of her soles on stone, her desperate gasps for breath, and the approaching door. She slowed her frantic race as she approached, reaching out with one hand to desperately grab the handles and yank it open – all of an inch before the locked doors reached their limit, and with a surprised scream Cleo find herself slammed against it.
She pulled on the door repeatedly, hoping that it had just been a fluke. It was no use. For all her efforts, the best she could do was rattle the doors, pulling them out and apart by an inch or two, but nowhere near enough for even a girl as slight as Cleo to slip through. Just wide enough, however, for something else to slip through – the end of her tightly wrapped towel was just loose enough to d**** into the slight gap. Cleo didn't notice this. She bit her lip nervously as she registered the laughter behind, her eyes widening in horror, as she realised where she was. She turned around.
"Fudge," Cleo whispered (even in extremis she had learned to mince her oaths), staring at what seemed to be every single person in the school. Some stared back. Some were openly ogling. Many were recording her with their phones, or at least taking pictures. She looked down to make sure that her towel hadn't slipped, noticing again that it still left all of her pale legs entirely exposed. She looked back at the students, realising with mounting panic just what sort of sight she presented. Instinctively, she tried to back away, pushing the doors tightly closed behind her – and unbeknownst to her, trapping of the edge of her towel tightly between them.
This time, despite her best efforts, she couldn't suppress her panic. She had no plan, no way to escape. Everyone was looking at her! She gulped, her green eyes wide with panic and her heart racing, and at last her nerve broke. She broke into a run, desperate to escape – or rather, she tried to. Something went wrong – it seemed like it pulled against her, and she stumbled and fell, landing on her hands and knees on the hard stone. She looked up and pushed herself quickly to her feet, ready to make another break for it, when she realised that the jeering laughter of her fellow students seemed to have reached a different pitch. Some were even cheering. She froze in sudden wild surmise, and glanced back, hoping against hope not to see confirmation of what she already knew she would see.
Her towel had been trapped in the doors – and now trailed miserably across the floor, dangling from where she had inadvertently left it.
Cleo was standing entirely naked before the entire student body of Charles Kennelworth College. She screamed in desperate panic and utter disbelief.
To the students watching, it was a fantastic sight. Haughty Cleo, always in control, panicking and exposed before them, standing entirely naked in the bright morning sunlight. The glimpses they'd had so far of Kaya and Kelly had surely merely been the preview for this! Her pale skin seemed to shine even whiter in the sunlight, and her red hair – both lots – seemed to burn even brighter in contrast. Their phones clicked and flashed as they discussed her body: the pale smooth skin, her pert breasts bouncing slightly as she screamed – and such pointy nipples! -, that flare of red pointing the way to her exposed pussy.
For Cleo, this was like something out of her worst nightmares. All her plots and schemes jangled around her mind as she realised that everyone could see all of her the pale body that she had used to taunt and tease for so long. She could see some of her ex-boyfriends, laughing as they snapped pictures; as her gaze swept desperately across the jeering crowd she caught sight of Felicity sneering haughtily and Claire looking on in contempt. Her panicked mind made no notice of the staff members trying to push through the swarming crowd to help or capture her – she didn't even notice that she was still screaming.
The scream died as Cleo's voice broke, and she became aware enough to attempt to cover herself with her hands. With one arm at her crotch and another across her breasts she was able to conceal to some extent the most important elements, though there was still a great deal of her pale body utterly exposed – and by now more than enough pictures had been taken that few would ever forget. To Cleo, the pose she was forced into now in a desperate attempt to shield herself from the school's gaze seemed a cruel parody of how she had relaxed in privacy such a short time ago.
Moments before the nearest teachers were able to reach her, the panic became all much once again, and she finally turned and fled – exposing as she did so her lovely white bum to her avid audience. What a lovely sight to leave them with!
Within the crowd, Kaya grinned so hard her cheeks almost cracked. Pulling the fire alarm had worked even better than she had hoped!
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