Maggie's First Job
by RSW

Maggie Harrigan vividly recalled her father taking her on her first university visit her senior year of high school. She remembered eyeing the curriculum guides with excitement, thrilled with all the possibilities. She had imagined herself spending hours in the stacks as a library science major or, maybe, sitting at a computer writing programming code, anything that didn’t require her to deal with people too much.

The young lady assigned to escort them around the campus had asked about her interests and if she had thought about a major. Her father jumped right in and said “She’s going to be a teacher, just like her old man.”

And that was that. Four years and a couple of months later with her newly minted teaching certificate in hand, she and her dad walked into the office of the school superintendent for an interview. Mr. Taylor and her father had a great time reminiscing about the good old days before her dad’s retirement before he presented her with an offer for her first real job.

After Mr. Taylor explained the assignment, teaching English and geography to a bunch of 7th and 8th graders with a reputation of being hard to handle, her dad spoke up again.

“Hardass Harrigan’s daughter will have no problems dealing with a bunch of hooligans. She’ll teach them to straighten up and fly right.”

And, again, that was that. On the first day of the school year, she waited until the classroom filled with students. She approached the door and put her hand on the knob. She couldn’t make herself pull it open. ‘Be strong,’ she told herself. ‘Show them who’s boss. You can do this.’

Steeling herself, she marched in and began barking orders, but it didn’t take the kids long to determine that there was no force behind her bluster. They sensed her fear and pounced. Things didn’t get any easier after the first class ended. The next set of kinds also figured out that their new teacher could not control them. So it went for the entire day, five hours of dealing with misbehaving little monsters. At least her sixth and final period was free for lesson planning.

Her feet throbbed from standing in heels all day long as she climbed the stairs to her third floor apartment. She just wanted to crawl into bed, maybe after a long, hot bubble bath, pull the covers over her head, and sleep until the weekend. She knew her soak then sleep plan wouldn’t be possible, though, as soon as she walked in the door. She saw Joe, her live-in boyfriend, laid out in the recliner watching basketball on the television. Usually, he spent happy hour at the bar down the street and didn’t get in until rather late. Since he was home, he’d expect her to make him dinner and clean up around the place before she would be able to rest. She wondered if he had looked for a job today.

Weary from a long day and a long night, she had to drag herself out of bed the next morning. And so went the next several weeks. The weariness from long hours of lesson planning combined with the anxiety produced by unruly kids took a toll on her body. She ended up missing several days out sick with a stomach bug that was the result more of stress than of any virus.

For her first day back after her brief illness, she decided to show her fifth period geography class a PowerPoint presentation of some of her old vacation pictures for their lesson. She figured that some of the worst offenders might simply go to sleep when she turned off the lights and that some of the other kids might actually enjoy the show. Wonder of wonders, Joe even decided to help her out by putting pictures into the slideshow while she prepared dinner.

The first seventeen slides went over very well. There were few disruptions, and some of the kids seemed interested the places that she had been such as the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone. After explaining to the kids about the picture of the South Dakota Badlands, she felt pretty confident as she hit the button on the remote to advance to the next one.

Instead of the picture of her beside the dinosaur at Wall Drug, the screen showed an image of her in the hotel room in which she had stayed on that trip. This shot of her standing in front of the bed with her hands clenched at her side and an embarrassed look on her face immediately attracted the students’ complete attention. It wasn’t that the hotel room was remarkable; it was that, in the projected image, their teacher was totally and absolutely naked. Maggie’s mind went numb. She hated that Joe made her pose for those types of pictures, and she always made sure that they were removed from any of her vacation folders. How did this one get in there?

The snickering of her class broke her from her stupor. ‘Oh crap!’ she thought. ‘I’m showing a bunch of 8th graders a full frontal during class. I could get fired for this. Fired? I could get arrested!’

She quickly clicked the forward button on the remote. A new picture replaced the old one on the screen. This one showed Maggie seated on the bed in the same hotel room in the same attire, or lack thereof, but, in this pose, she had her legs spread wide. As fast as she could manage, she clicked forward again. A close up image showing gynecological detail of her most private parts popped up on the screen.

She rapidly clicked through another dozen photos, each thoroughly humiliating, before she reached one with the familiar green and white dinosaur. Maggie started shaking when the realization of what just happened hit her. Overwhelmed with fright and embarrassment, her brain ceased to function. She didn’t even resist when Charles, the biggest bully in the class, walked up to her and seized the remote control.

She finally found her voice as Charles began clicking back through the pornographic images of her. “Charles! Stop that now! Give me that remote.”

Charles grinned and continued clicking until he reached the first picture of her in the hotel room. “You know, Ms. Harrigan, I thought that this was going to be so, so boring. I gotta hand it to you; you really know how to get our attention. Why don’t you tell us about this photo like you did all the others?”

“Charles, give me that remote. Now!”

Charles’ grin disappeared and a menacing look appeared in his eyes. “I don’t think I want to do that. Tell us about the photo.”

The look and his manner reminded her of her dad and of Joe. Before she could even think to consider why she would obey the commands of a fourteen year old boy, she began explaining in a trembling voice “That’s me in a hotel room in Rapid City, South Dakota.”

Pleased that his teacher had acceded so quickly and so completely, Charles replied “We want more details. Describe yourself. Tell us why.”

Humiliated beyond belief, she continued, “I was a junior in college at the time. My shoulder length hair had been recently permed, so it is very curly in this picture. I was very tan because the trip happened at the end of the summer, and I had spent a lot of time laying out that year.”

Charles began to get angry. She was willfully not explaining what he wanted. The gleam returned and intensified.

Instinctually, Maggie understood what she had to do no matter how much she dreaded doing it. She forced herself to say “The picture also shows my tan lines since I’m not wearing any clothes. The contrast makes my bare breasts really stand out. You’ll notice that they are a bit undersized with small areole and pert nipples.”

She was talking about her breasts to her young class while showing them an illustration. How had this happened? “My pubic hair is trimmed in what is usually called a ‘landing strip’ pattern that fully covers my clit. My arms are clenched and my face looks embarrassed because my boyfriend, Joe, is making me pose nude for him. I really hated the thought of him having naked pictures of me because I really didn’t want anyone seeing them.”

“Very good, next,” Charles said as he clicked to the next slide.

“This one is of me in the same hotel room. I’m sitting on the bed, naked, with my legs spread wide so that Joe can take a picture of my private parts.”

“Private parts?”

“So that Joe can take a picture of my pussy,” she corrected.


“This one is a close up view of my pussy from the last picture. You can clearly see my clit and pussy.”

Charles lingered on the image for a while before moving to the next picture.

“This one shows me in the hotel corridor outside the elevator wearing only high heels. Joe made me take a walk to the vending machines to get him a soda. On the way, I had to do this pose with my full front exposed to the camera and my hands laced together behind my head. I was terrified the whole time that someone would come out of their room or out of the elevator.”


“This one shows me by the coke machine bending over to get his soda. Joe wouldn’t let me bend at the knees, so you can see my whole butt and a little bit of my pussy.”


“This photo shows me standing naked in the hotel corridor with a man beside me and his arm around me. We had just about made it back to the room when a room door opened. I tried to get Joe to open the door to our room quickly and get me inside before I was seen, but, instead, he made me stand there while the guy exited. I used my arms to cover up my tits and pussy, but Joe made me drop them. Since I had covered up, he made me show off for the guy, turning around, bending over. He then made me pose for a picture with him. The guy copped several feels of my butt and breasts before and after this shot.” Maggie almost cried as she remembered the event and realized how all this must sound to her students. How could she ever face them again?


“Joe decided that I should be punished more for covering up when the man came out into the corridor He invited the man into our room and asked him to sit on the bed. Joe then commanded me to lie down over the man’s lap. You can see the man fondling my breasts as he spanks my bare butt. After the spanking, he inserted his thumb in my asshole and his finger into my pussy.” Why was she adding all these details? She could have left that part out, and Charles would have never known. Was she that conditioned to obey completely?


“This one shows me wearing a French maid outfit. I am braless under the frilly black and white blouse. The black skirt is very sheer. If the picture showed me from behind, you would be able to clearly see my thong. The white apron covers the panties from the front, though. My shoes are four-inch high heels, and the black stockings stop before the short skirt starts so a slim line of my thigh is also visible. The hat and elbow-length gloves complete the costume.”

“Why were you dressed this way?” Charles demanded.

“Joe was having a few guys over for a Superbowl Party, and he asked me to dress like this.” Her explanation apparently satisfied her student as he continued on to the next slide.

“You can see me holding a tray with snack foods serving a couple of the guys at the party. At halftime, Joe made me remove the shirt, skirt and panties, so all I have on is the shoes, stockings, gloves, hat, and apron. All the guys there are staring intently at my exposed breasts and, when I turn around, my butt.


“At the end of the game, Joe made me take off the apron as well and escort the guys to their cars. This one shows me worse than naked in the parking lot of my apartment building. One of my neighbors saw me, and he now smiles knowingly every time he sees me.”

“What do you mean, worse than naked?” one of the other students, Ryan, asked.

“Well, if someone sees you outside naked, you can claim to have gotten locked out of your apartment and lost your towel, or you can say that you’re a nudist. When you’re walking around wearing stockings, high heels, a French maid hat, and gloves, you are obviously doing it for a sexual thrill. The connotation is much worse.”

Charles brought up the next slide.

“This one was taken recently here on the school grounds. Joe made me buy a cheerleader outfit and wear it, minus underwear, to the football field one Saturday. You can see that the top is pulled down to my waist exposing my breasts, and I’ve hiked up the skirt so that my bush is visible.


“This picture is a full frontal one of me on the fifty yard line in the middle of the field. I’m only wearing socks and shoes, and I’m holding cheerleading pom-poms by my side. Even though it was taken from the stands a good distance away, you can clearly see my breasts and my bush. Joe made me leave my clothes with him and walk out to the center naked. Though the road is pretty far away, a lot of cars passed, and I was scared that some of the people saw me as this happened in the broad daylight.”


“I’m sitting with two other people around the dining room table in their house. The others are Joe’s friend, Mike, and his wife, Michelle. You can see that we’re playing cards and that Michelle and I are wearing only panties while Mike is fully dressed. Joe insisted that we play guy versus girl strip poker and stipulated that the there was to be no covering up. That’s why Michelle and I have our breasts so blatantly bared.”


“This one is from after the game. Michelle and I lost badly and had to give a show for the guys. They made us dance, completely nude, for them for five minutes. You can see the two of us completely exposed from the front. It’s hard to make out that we’re dancing since this is a still photo and not a movie.”


“After the game, Michelle was allowed to get dressed, but Joe made me stay naked the rest of the evening. He even left my clothes at Mike’s house, so I had to ride home that way. This one shows me driving my car naked. Luckily, it was late, so not many people saw me except the guy at the drive through window.”

Since that was the last of the good pictures, Charles left it on the screen and motioned for one of his buddies in the back to turn on the light. The girls in the room started laughing as they watched all the guys try to hide their boners. Everyone, especially Maggie, thought that the show was over, but Charles had other ideas.

“Wow, that was a nice show, Ms. H,” he said. “It did lose something in that it was just pictures. I think we’d like to see the real thing.”

‘He couldn’t possibly mean what I think that he means, could he?’ she thought.

Charles looked at her sternly. “Give me your skirt.”

“Charles, I can’t. Please, please don’t make me do this,” she begged.

“The skirt. Now!”

Maggie reached to her side and unzipped the garment. After letting it slide to her ankles, she stepped out of it, picked it up, and meekly handed it to the boy.

‘Please stop,’ she thought. ‘Don’t go any further.’

“Why aren’t you describing what is happening to you? Teach us, teacher,” Charles mocked.

“I’m standing in my classroom in front of my students. Having just had to explain the circumstances of each a bunch of pornographic photographs that I was forced to display to them, I was told to remove my skirt. The kids can now see the tops of my stockings and may be able to see the bottom of my panties under my shirt tail.”

“Very good, teach. Now, the shirt.”

Unwillingly, her hands began the task of unfastening the buttons. She continued her humiliating narration.

“I am now unbuttoning my blouse. You should now be able to see my bra cups clearly.”

She paused until finishing with the last button. “I’m taking off the blouse and handing it to Charles. The students can now see me standing before them in just my underwear - a lacy bra and panty set, stockings, and high heels. I’m turning around slowly so that the class can get a good view of my rear as well.”

Maggie grimaced as his next command came.

“The bra.”

Struggling not to cry, she reached her hands behind her back and undid the two catches holding the piece of clothing in place. Surprisingly, Charles did not scold her for her lack of narration as she shrugged the bra off her shoulders and handed it to him. He watched in fascination as his lovely, topless teacher kept her hands by her side as she did a spin for the class.

Even Charles was becoming a little affected by the display. Very quietly, he commanded her to take off the panties.

She knew that the dictate was coming but was still stunned when he said it. Part of her mind wanted to run screaming from the spectacle that she was making of herself. A larger part of her, though, was conditioned to accept such instructions without protest. That part of her won out over the small voice that told her to stand up to this fourteen year old boy. Remembering that she was supposed to be describing her actions, she reported “I am now standing in front of the class wearing only small, lacy panties, stockings, and shoes. I have been told to remove the panties, which will leave me, for all intents and purposes, naked in front of 22 of my 8th grade students. I’m tucking my thumbs into the waistband. Here goes.”

She forced her arms down her body carrying with them the last vestiges of her dignity. Her now full bush popped into the sight of the kids. Once the panties reached her knees, she let them fall to the ground, gathered them up, and gave them to Charles. “I’m now pretty much fully nude. You can see my breasts and my bush. I’ll turn around so that you can also see my butt.”

Completing an entire rotation, she said “There’s not much more to see.”

‘I don’t know about that,’ Charles thought.

“Give me the rest,” he said.

She removed the stockings and the shoes and gave it to the teenager. The cool tile floor felt odd on her bare feet, and the air conditioned breeze blowing on her private parts emphasized exactly how exposed she was. Completely naked and degraded, she stood there not knowing what to do next.

“Turn around,” Charles directed.

Maggie swiveled so that her backside faced the audience.

“Touch your toes.”

Maggie bent over and did a toe touch and then stood back up.

“Touch your toes and stay that way,” he said sharply.

Keeping her knees locked, she bent back over and tried not to think about the view she was presenting.

“Reach around to your ass and spread your cheeks apart.”

Totally disgraced, Maggie complied.

The action revealed her pussy and asshole to the students. Charles kept her in that position as he called each of the boys in the class up, one by one, for a close examination. Some of the more adventurous boys ran their fingers lightly over the entrance to her vagina.

After each of the boys had filed by, Charles allowed her to stand up. He had her stand in the corner with her butt facing the class while he decided what he wanted next.

Maggie went through a gamut of emotions as she awaited his decision. Beyond the mortification and humiliation, there was fear. Fear about what today’s events meant for her life. Could she ever return to this school? Would she be arrested? Beyond the fear, however, was anger. How could she let a school age child do this to her? She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear Charles’ next command.

“Ms. H,” he called, “Go to your desk and bend over it with your butt facing the class. We’ve decided that you’ve been naughty and need a spanking.”

Though her fear and embarrassment was quickly turning to seething anger, she followed her conditioning once again and followed his instructions. While bent over the desk displaying her charms to a room full of teenagers, she visualized where all this was heading. First, obviously, would be a spanking. She could hear Charles removing his belt and walking towards her. What next, though? There were a bunch of hormone driven teenage boys in this room. At some point soon, the sexual tension was going to drive them wild. She pictured herself being gangbanged by these punks. She couldn’t let that happen. Her anger at herself finally triumphed over her embarrassment, fear, and self doubt.

As Charles wound up for the first slap of his belt on her rear end, she rose up and grabbed the leather strap. Pulling it out of his hands, she shouted “That’s it! I’ve had enough. Charles, go back to your seat now!”

Stunned at her vehemence, the boy complied.

Not dallying, but not in a panicked rush either, Maggie put on her blouse, skirt, and shoes and gathered the rest of her clothes. Without another word, she strode purposely to the door and out of the classroom.

There were some changes coming in her life. She would deal with and take responsibility for any consequences that her actions today brought. Regardless of those penalties, though, she would take control of her life. Her freeloading boyfriend would be the first to go. Next, maybe a new line of work. She didn’t have it planned out exactly, but she would have a new life.

The End.