The Wards at Winslow, Part 1

When the nudist movement started sweeping the nation, Winslow put up signs stating "NO NUDISM ON SCHOOL GROUNDS".

Once it became clear that nakedness was here to say, and the laws against indecency were beginning to be repealed, the signs were altered to read "STUDENTS WILL REMAIN FULLY CLOTHED. STAFF WILL NOT DISPLAY BREASTS, BUTTOCKS OR GENITALIA."

Later, the signs were altered once more, to read "STUDENTS UNDER SIXTEEN WILL REMAIN CLOTHED AT ALL TIMES. OTHER STUDENTS, AND STAFF, WILL COVER BUTTOCKS AND GENITALIA AT ALL TIMES."

These days, they read "STUDENTS UNDER FIFTEEN WILL REMAIN CLOTHED AT ALL TIMES. OTHER STUDENTS, AND ALL STAFF, WILL KEEP GENITALIA COVERED WHEN POSSIBLE."

The one that was never displayed, which was perhaps considered implicit, but which would have been broken most of all, was "No sex in the school."

Some of us were having sex as early as thirteen. For others, such as myself, taking off my clothes on my fifteenth birthday was the liberating factor. I had sex with three boys in my first week back at Winslow.

Most students obeyed the signs, most of the time. Boys had a harder time getting away with it, but from time to time, someone would slip into class with it all hanging free, usually with a goofy grin on his face. Boys and sex, really. They act like they invented it.

Girls could get away with it more often, especially if they shaved. I had done a few 'naked days' at school, just for fun, and the thrill of adventure. No-one had really noticed. The standard practice was to use a marker pen to draw a couple of lines over your hips from your crotch back to the crack of your ass, and everyone pretended that they were thong straps. Like when boys lost their pants during sex, no-one took any official notice unless it became an ongoing thing.

Most other girls, when they weren't wearing pretend-thongs, tended to wear frilly panties, real thongs or some other brief underwear. Sophia liked this tiny apron thing made of beaded strings. Technically, it obscured the view of her pussy from in front. Of course, when she was on all fours – which was amazingly often – it did nothing to get in the way of anything that anyone wanted to do to her.

Emma, on the other hand, either wore red frilly knickers, or drew thong-lines on herself. She once got away with the latter for a good two weeks. Personally, I think that's blatant favouritism. Just because she's got bigger tits than half the class, and the looks to outdo the other half, that's no reason to let her get away with shit like that.

Madison, in keeping with her 'petite cutie' image, tended to wear animal print panties, and the matching animal ears in her hair. I don't know how she managed it, but that managed to make her look even cuter than normal.

Personally, I actually preferred to wear pants; those plastic seats could get cold, especially during winter. A common prank was to hold a girl down, take her pants, and throw them into the boys' bathrooms. She either had to go without, or go in there and fuck or suck all the guys there before she could get her pants back.

I'd had that done to me last winter, and I'd been halfway through when the bell went. I decided, _fuck it_ , finished off the guy I was fucking, and went to class without my panties. That was a mistake; once I cooled down, I damn near froze my labia to the seat.

Anyways, I usually went with boxers, athletics shorts or normal panties. However, on this day, I had decided to go the whole hog, and came in wearing cargo pants.

What? They're handy. I like them. Lots of pockets. For once, I didn't have to wear my purse-belt.

People blatantly turned to look when I walked by; I was actually covered from waist down to knees, by something that wasn't see-through. I was definitely the most-dressed girl in school, by a huge margin. Even those girls going through their period just wore a slightly thicker pair of panties for the duration; my cargo pants were in a whole 'nother category.

Emma was the first to comment. She was wearing just 'thong-lines' on this day, and she came to a halt before me, hands on hips, and thrust out her crotch toward me in a challenging gesture.

"What's the matter, Hebert?" she sneered. "Finally come to your senses, and realised that nobody here really wants your pussy?"

I had been having problems finding sexual partners at school, at least ones that I liked, over the last few months. I had assumed that it was a side-effect of the general bullying campaign that Emma and her friends were running against me. That she was specifically turning the guys against me was something I had not considered.

"No," Madison added with a giggle, "it's just that everyone's realised she's got VD."

That caused a general, if unconscious, shuffle away from me. While medical technology had gone a long way – especially with Tinkertech assistance – to eradicating the most common venereal diseases, there were a few that were still stubbornly hanging on. Worse, it was suspected that some sick individual had created more, that resembled the common types, but were harder to get rid of.

However, fortunately, the Age Card was able to pick up any such diseases in a person with its biometrics scan, so I pulled out my Card. "I'll match with anyone here!" I stated quickly. "I'm as clean as anyone at the school!" I had to nip this in the bud, and fast.

Suddenly, the Card was plucked from my fingers; I whirled around to see Sophia holding it high. There was a general gasp; _no-one_ stole someone else's Age Card. It just wasn't done.

But Sophia had done it to me, and no-one was protesting. "She's probably hacked it," she claimed. "Tell you what, Hebert, you go get a full medical checkup, and when you come back clean, I'll give you your Card back."

Hacking an Age Card was another urban myth. The best minds on the planet had tried it. _Dragon_ had tried it. All had failed. But the persistent rumour was out there, that someone, somewhere, could do it. And if one person could do it, anyone could do it.

But even if it was possible, what Sophia was doing was so far beyond the pale that I couldn't comprehend it. "Give me back my Card, you thief!" I yelled.

"Card?" she asked. "I haven't got your Card."

"That's because you just gave it to Emma," I charged her. "Emma, give me back my Card."

Emma stared at me coolly. "Are you going to call _me_ a thief, Taylor?" she asked. "Go on. _Please_ do it."

I swallowed. Emma's dad was a lawyer. I didn't _know_ that he'd sue me if I accused Emma of theft, but I knew Dad couldn't handle the costs if he did.

"Please give it back to me," I begged. "I'll do anything. I'll get down and eat you out in front of the whole school. Just give it back."

"Medical certificate," she told me. "Posted on the bulletin board. Then you get it back."

The medical certificate would have on it that I had been tested for venereal diseases. It wouldn't matter that I had been found clear of them; the stigma would be there. _No-one_ got tested these days, except to check their Age Card's verdict; essentially, getting tested would be a general admission that I had the disease, or at least, that I _had_ had it.. I wouldn't be able to get sex in school from _anyone_. And for those few who weren't that picky, all the Trio would have to do was spread the rumour that I had faked the certificate.

Adults, I understood, were a lot easier about VD. It was curable; you got treated, it was done with. But teenagers can be downright _cruel_ about something like that.

She turned and walked away. And with her went my last chance at getting in a nice soothing fuck before the first bell rang.

<><>

The PRT van rolled toward Winslow High School. Vista fidgeted in her seat.

"Damn," Dennis told her from the opposite seat, "you look kinda weirdly sexy in that, Missy."

"Fuck you," she retorted. "I have to wear it in public till I'm fifteen; you don't have to make fun of me."

"I'm not, I'm not," he protested. "I'm looking at you, and I'm imagining your body under that costume, and it's even sexier than if I could actually see you for real."

She looked sharply at him; his faceplate was closed, so of course she couldn't see his expression. "Are you being serious, right now?"

"He's right," Kid Win put in, from across the aisle. "It's like you're teasing us with clothes. You look sexy as hell."

"Wow, do I really?" asked Vista.

"Sure do," confirmed Dennis. "In fact, right now, I've got a woody, just trying to imagine what you're wearing under that."

Missy looked; indeed, Clockblocker was solidly erect, showing plainly through his light field costume. She smiled. "Do you want to see?"

He leaned forward. "Would you?"

She scooted her butt forward, spread her legs, and lifted her skirt. Her smooth thighs were revealed, all the way up to her tight young pussy, totally uncovered by anything whatsoever. She lifted and spread her legs a little more, affording him a glimpse of the shiny moist pink flesh between her outer lips.

"Oh god," breathed Dennis. "That is _so_ damn sexy, what you did just then."

"No underwear?" blurted Chris. "Really?"

Vista grinned. "She said I had to wear the skirt. Said nothing about anything under it." Getting up, she pulled at the Velcro tabs on the front of Dennis' costume. The part covering his groin came away with a ripping noise, and his erection popped out.

"Now," she purred, caressing his rampant phallus with her fingertips. "Want to see what we can finish up before we get to Winslow?"

He reached for her, but then Aegis spoke up. "Whatever it is you're doing back there, get it done and get covered up in the next thirty seconds. We're almost there."

Vista dropped her skirt and flopped back on to her seat, her head falling back with aggravation. "Fuck," she growled. "I need a good solid fuck in the worst possible way."

"You think you got troubles," Dennis groaned. "I gotta fit this back in my costume, and I'm not sure if the Velcro will hold."

Kid Win thought quickly. "Get the driver to do a lap!" he told Aegis. "Dennis has costume problems."

Aegis leaned forward and spoke to the driver; the van, which had been slowing down, picked up speed once more.

Quickly, Missy slipped to her knees before him. She took his throbbing penis in her mouth, and began to suck on it in her most determined fashion.

He groaned, arching his back, as her mouth consumed him, her well-practised tongue flickered around his shaft and up over the head. "Fuck," he groaned. "Fuck. Oh god, yes, just like that."

As the van continued on its lap of the school, Missy lapped and licked and sucked on Dennis' cock; he groaned and panted and held her head close to him. Abruptly, he jerked his hips and came, spurting wads of semen directly into her throat. She swallowed as much as she could, but some splattered on her face as she pulled back.

As she wiped the residue from her face, and checked her costume for stray drops, Dennis tucked his cock away and re-set the Velcro tabs. "Thanks, Missy," he told her sincerely. "I owe you one."

She grinned as she sat up again. "I know," she told him. "I will collect, believe me."

The van pulled to a halt in front of a large set of grandstands, holding what had to be the entire student body of Winslow High.

<><>

Mrs Knott had Computer class, and was my home room teacher, and was my favourite of all those at Winslow.

Anyone looking at her face, at the breadth of her shoulders, might make the mistake of thinking she was a guy trying to pass as a woman. But the rest of her body belied that; truly Amazonian breasts, a narrow waist, and generous hips told the story of someone who was all woman. Her preferred mode of dress was a pair of lacy knickers, through which her labia could easily be seen.

She knew what she had, and she flaunted it; each movement was a lesson in sensuality and sexuality. She could make turning on a computer into an invitation for sex. Nearly all the boys in the class lusted after her, and not a few of the girls; I'd had sex with her once, just to see what it was like, and I had enjoyed it immensely. I still preferred boys, of course, but if she ever invited me for a repeat engagement, I would take her up on it in an instant.

It wasn't her that I had my main problems with. It was Mr Gladly.

When I walked into his class that morning, he had Madison bent over the desk, her animal-print panties around her ankles, and he was fucking her like there was no tomorrow. "Oh god yes," she groaned. "Fuck my ass, you dirty bastard. Fuck me hard."

It didn't bother me that he fucked Madison, or even that he fucked her in the ass. I like a good ass-fuck myself, on occasion. What bothered me was that he tended to fuck the most popular girls, a lot, and then showed them favouritism. I had sucked his cock once, to shift my World Affairs grade from a D to a C-, and had found the whole exercise to be totally unrewarding. I liked my sex to be uncomplicated, no strings attached.

It was typical of Winslow that no-one else took a blind bit of notice at what he did. There _were_ laws against using sex in that way, but the offence had to be reported first. There were also laws about teachers having sex with their students; so long as no-one complained, no-one took official notice. _Especially_ in a place like Winslow.

I had to admit, though, fucking her over the desk was a new low, even for him. He could at least have taken her into the stock room, at least tried to hide what he was doing.

As I sat down, Greg Veder reached across to fondle my breast; his other hand was busy on his cock as he watched Mr Gladly giving it to Madison. "Hi, Taylor," he greeted me.

I slapped his hand away; Greg didn't have titty-touch privileges, but I hadn't managed to get that through to him yet. We had fucked once, when I was horny and feeling in a what-the-hell mood, and he had somehow gotten the impression that I liked him.

He really wasn't good at sex, which was kind of impressive in a negative way, given that he had every opportunity when growing up to improve his technique. Apparently he spent a lot of time online, playing eroge, and got a lot of his ideas about sex from there.

If I let him, I knew Greg would happily fuck me, Age Card or no Age Card. I briefly considered it, then decided that the loss of self-esteem was not worth the satisfaction of sex. Especially given that Greg probably wouldn't last long enough for me to cum, anyway.

"Leave me alone, Greg," I told him wearily.

"Want to fuck?" he asked, eager as a puppy. The sort of puppy that messed on the carpet, and never, ever realised his error.

"No, Greg," I responded. "Leave me alone." I looked at him. "Anyway, you don't sit there."

"I swapped with Rob," he informed me airily. "He wanted to sit next to Kate."

I rolled my eyes. Rob would be happy, and so would Kate. I knew them; they were fucking regularly. Rumour had it that she was petitioning to have her fertility treatment reversed, so that she and Rob could have a kid. I wished them the best of luck with that. But this was at the expense of _my_ happiness; what there was left of it after Sophia stole my fucking Age Card.

Mr Gladly fucked Madison to a screaming orgasm, then came himself; she got off the desk, pulled her panties up, and went down to her seat with a satisfied smirk on her face. She usually sat with her fuck-buddy Julia; they were no doubt going to sneak off someplace for sex before the end of the period. Or, you know, do it right there. Mr Gladly would probably punish them by making them stay back after school and make them 'write lines'. Yeah, you know where I'm going with that.

Not bothering to put his briefs back on, Mr Gladly faced the class. Greg was still vigorously masturbating, his hand whacking away under his desk, his face red with the effort. I wished he'd either cum or give it up and pay attention; it wasn't attractive enough to watch, and it wasn't quiet enough to ignore.

"As some of you may have heard," Mr Gladly began, "the Wards are going to be paying us a visit today. So I want you all to be on your best behaviour.

"After the arrival," he continued, "they will be splitting up so that you can show them the school. This will allow you to talk to them one-on-one. No mobbing them, and no hitting on them. These are _superheroes_. Show some respect."

I tried to ignore Greg's frantic movements.

"After lunch," he told us, "you will all gather in the auditorium, where they will demonstrate their powers, and take questions as a group. They will also talk about the ramifications of having powers. Any questions?"

There was a murmur of confused questions, then Madison stuck her hand up. "Mr Gladly," she asked, "is it possible to call ahead and ask a particular Ward if he's, uh, free to go out for dinner?"

I shook my head. _Which means having sex. Trust Madison to want to jump the queue._ I had no doubt that at least some of the Wards would be having sex with some of the students, once they got here, but who the lucky students were, no-one knew.

Mr Gladly smiled, but shook his head. "Sorry, Madison," he told her. "I already checked."

_Really?_ I asked myself. _Unless Gladly's suddenly got the hots for boys, that means he wants to fuck Vista. That's what I call ambitious._ Mr Gladly's cock wasn't the largest, but Vista was fairly petite. Unless she was gifted in the pussy department, there was no way in hell they'd be compatible. I wasn't even sure if she was of Age yet.

There were no more questions; Greg Veder suddenly gasped, and his cock splattered cum all over his desk and legs. "Whew," he grunted with relief, then turned to me. "What did I miss?"

I rolled my eyes. _Typical fucking Greg._

"Come on now," Gladly urged us. "They'll be arriving soon. Go out on to the sports grounds, and join your other classmates on the grandstands. And Mr Veder, put your pants on, please. You're not impressing anyone with that."

Abashed, Greg found his shorts and pulled them on. I joined the others on the way out the door; hopefully, he wouldn't be able to find me in time to sit next to me.

I was almost at the grandstand when I realised something else. _Fuck. Emma's got my Age Card. I won't even be able to have sex with any of the Wards.

Fuck._

It wasn't as if I'd been planning to, but it _was_ just one more kick in the teeth, in what was promising to be a very long day.