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"I silently obeyed, and in moments I was completely naked. I had managed to do it all without losing sight of her eyes, but for that split second I had to pull my t-shirt over my head. My jeans, shoes, socks and shirt were in a discarded pile beside me. I was a bit embarrassed, not just by being so exposed, but also because my cock was standing out ram-straight, leaving little question about my arousal."Very nice, Edward. I'm so glad you liked those pieces at La Perla. You have expensive tastes, even if they do tend a bit to the slutty look."She hadn't asked a question, so I didn't dare speak. I think I might have blushed a little redder."But, seeing you now, like this, I think your choices were dead on. So let's get you dressed."I heard her words, with the pounding of my heart as background. Questions filled my mind. What had she bought? Did she actually buy women's lingerie for me? Did she want me to wear it? What was happening to me?These thoughts were my mind's company. "Um . . I don't think I understandthe title of your project. By the way, what's her real name and whyis she holding her mouth open like that?" "Do you understand, Brad?" Karen challenged, ignoring the restof Nancy's comment. "When It Blows, All Cats Are Gray," he read. "Does it blow?" Karen's grin congratulated him, "Got it in one." Nancy gasped. Brad grinned. Krystal's eyes widened in panic.Altogether an extremely satisfying reaction thought Karen. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere a little moreprivate," Brad offered. He took Karen's arm and they strolled outonto a tree-lined garden area. Krystal followed, of course, bound byher leash. Nancy followed as well, too confused to know what else todo. "What is your name?" Nancy asked Krystal, unaware that she wasgagged. Karen answered negligently over her shoulder, "She is Krystal.She doesn't have much to say, tonight. That's part of the artisticstatement." That comment confused Nancy more than it explained anything.
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I looked like I was going for an interview at Bloomingdales rather than a disciplinary with the Principal. I had chosen my tactics and I had to play to my strengths. I resolved to be contrite and yet outrageously sexy. I knocked on the door and waited. There was a bit of a pause and then a single, deep, “Come in.” Mr LeMay was seated at his desk. It was a luxurious piece of furniture; macassar veneer and a proper Edwardian ink well and one of those Newton’s cradle things. The Principal was a man who exuded authority. His body language said ‘this is my space – I own this office.’ He was besuited. A smart grey brown with gold cufflinks on his shirt. The creases on his collar were sharp enough to slice your finger. He looked like he had just had his hair cut. Short, grizzled and a liberal amount of gel. He looked at without smiling and ran his finger over a writing pad on his desk. “Marsh. Danielle Marsh?” “Yes Sir.” “I only see young ladies in here for two reasons, Miss Marsh..

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