The school's swimming pool is practically Olympic-size. Were this not an anime, it would seem unreasonably large.

You've been hanging out in the girl's locker room for the last half hour, watching invisibly as they change into their school swimsuits. As they file out onto the wet tiles, the hall filled with the smell of chlorine and the sound of splashing as the students enjoy their annual Pool Day, you try to decide who has the prettiest bottom. It's a tie in multiple ways. Ayumi's is plump and luscious, Hanako's taut and slim, Mei's small and pert. The latter girl looks nervous, as well she might. Ayumi and Hanako have her flanked and are giving her wicked sidelong glances. Given that the two bullies spent most of the changing period playing keepaway with her swimsuit, her hesitance is justified.

But what's this? Headmistress Oshiro? She doesn't usually make it down to the pool. She looks out of place in her jacket, heels, stockings and pencil skirt, but not half of out as place as the woman standing next to her. In her red ribboned skirt and white kimono jacket, she's traditionally dressed as what you, being Japanese, recognize immediately as a traditional shrine maiden. You drift closer to overhear their conversation.

The shrine maiden draws a breath.

"Yes, Ms. Oshiro," she says. "I can sense its presence. I'm afraid your school is haunted."

"So my hunch was true? A pervert ghost? Well, then, Mariko, what can we do about it?"

"An exorcism won't be easy. I'll have to stay at the school for some weeks, and of course," she swallows, "while we're here, we're vulnerable..."

"To be honest, Ms. Oshiro," the shrine maiden is saying as you drift in for a better view, "I'm a little nervous. This is my first official outing from the temple, and a case of this magnitude..."

You don't hear the rest because you're too busy lying face-up between her legs, enjoying the view. She's quite naked below the skirt, nice full bottom, private place shaved bare. You're not quite sure why all shrine maidens are forbidden to wear underwear but it's a tradition you're wholly in favor of.

She gives a little shiver, as if something's walked over her grave. Goosebumps are forming on her inner thighs.

"Even some of the costuming, I'm still not completely used to..."

You've been experimenting with a few of your ghost powers. Though you can't technically breathe, lacking breath, you can summon a cold, ethereal wind that's just as good when it comes to stiffening girls' nipples and blowing their skirts up. Perhaps even better. You don't need the whole show here, though - a jet of cool air should suffice.

You bob between her legs, admiring the neatness of her personal grooming, then purse your lips and blow.an icy stream across her pussy.

The effect is immediate. You have the pleasure of seeing her whole body quiver from your ideal vantage point inside her dress. Her bottom jiggles and reflexively she draws her thighs tightly together, which doesn't disadvantage you in the least. She rubs them together uncomfortably. Your ghost wind feels like an Arctic breeze, and you paid special attention to her clit.

"M-Ms. Oshiro? Did you feel that? I have a definite sense of - something supernatural..."

"Are you sure?" Ms. Oshiro asks sharply. "What precisely are you detecting?"

Mariko blushes.

"It's more of a general... feeling of dread, if you know what I mean. I can't quite put it into words."

"You'd better be correct." snaps the headmistress. "There's a lot riding on these spirit-senses you claim to have. I won't waste the school's budget on a fraud."

Mariko's younger than the headmistress, young enough to be intimidated by her. She bites her lower lip and looks away.

"So what's the next step?" asks the headmistress. "Assuming this ecchi spectre really exists."

"I'll have to tour the school to determine where its presence is strongest, and perform some tests to prove the manifestation is genuine. After that a binding ceremony might be effective, but only if I can recruit some of your girls to assist..."

As they walk the edge of the pool, talking strategy, you decide to check out what Ayumi and Hanako are up to.

Turns out they're not leaving Mei alone. There's a game of Marco Polo going on and the small girl is it, stumbling blindly through the water as Ayumi calls "Polo!" and Hanako sneaks up behind her. As Mei waves her hands about in front of her, Hanako pinches her bottom and darts away before she can spin around to catch her.

You always liked Marco Polo.

You dive underwater to get a better look at Mei's thrashing legs. They're quite a sight. Hanako's on the other side of the pool, looking innocent.

"Cheater!" calls Ayumi, swimming up behind her. "She's opening her eyes!"

Mei sputters in incoherent rage.

"What - no - I didn't - I would never - you pinched me!"

"Who, me?" Ayumi affects ignorance. "Why would I do that?"

Mei whirls angrily to face her. "You pinched my bottom to trick me!"

"Why, Mei," Ayumi laughs. "You and your wishful thinking. What kind of pervert do you think I am?"

You give Mei's behind a firm pinch. She yelps.

"You did it again! Stop it!"

Ayumi looks puzzled. Hanako is paddling over to see what the matter is. Mei's hand is rubbing her right buttock.

You give the left a squeeze.

"Ahh! Stop it!"

Ayumi and Hanako exchange confused glances, floating on either side of Mei, who's swiping furiously at her invisible assailant. You slide both hands beneath the fabric of her swimsuit to fondle her naked flesh, pulling them away just before she can grab them. Her face has turned bright red, from anger as much as embarrassment.

"You two are such perverts! Lesbians as well! Leave me alone!"

Hanako's brow wrinkles. Ayumi shrugs. She swims closer.

"Mei," she says, "we're not even close enough to - "

The thing about being intangible is that you don't have to worry about water resistance. You wind up and give Mei's pert little bottom a slap, squeezing tightly as you can before you let go. Then, as she gasps and looks behind her, you give her a gentle tickle between the thighs.

"That is it! I've had enough!"

And she throws herself on Ayumi, grabbing her around the shoulders, pulling her hair and trying to force her underwater.

"Girls! What on earth are you doing!"

As Ayumi surfaces, sputtering, with Mei clinging to her shoulders like a wildcat and Hanako clinging to one of her kicking legs, trying to pull her off, Ms. Oshiro is there by the poolside.

"Let go of her at once! You've bullied that poor girl enough!"

"But, senpai," protests Ayumi, "she started it!"

"They pinched my bottom," yells Mei, "and even touched my..." she stops, too embarrassed to finish the sentence. "They're dirty girls!"

Mariko is by the headmistress' side.

"Ms. Oshiro," she says urgently, "this could be the influence of the ghost. We ought to evacuate the pool area immediately."

Ms. Oshiro scowls.

"I'm not robbing my students of Pool Day on a whim. These girls were teasing poor Mei, it's plain as the nose on your face, and I've had enough of it."

"But spectral pinches, phantom slaps - that's precisely the pervert ghost's method of attack!"

"Or ordinary perverts," Ms. Oshiro scoffs. "I'm beginning to doubt the wisdom of calling you in at all, Mariko. As for you, girls, out of the pool."

"Senpai, we didn't do anything!"

Ms. Oshiro rolls her eyes.

"Are you going to blame the ghost too? Up on the tiles, girls, and let's get to work on finding a suitable punishment."

As Ayumi reluctantly levers herself out of the pool, Hanako hangs back, behind Mei. "I'm innocent, senpai! Please! I only pinched her bottom once, that's it!"

"So it was Ayumi the rest of the time? Doesn't matter. You're still an accomplice."

All eyes are on Ayumi as she pulls herself up, curves dripping with water. Ms. Oshiro watches sternly, Mariko with trepidation, Mei with a glint of satisfaction in her eye. With everyone distracted, it's a simple matter to slip around behinds Mei and pinch both her nipples simultaneously through her swimsuit. You only hold on tight for a couple of seconds, enough to make her shriek, and let go before anyone can turn to look.

"She did it again, senpai! She pinched me!"

Everyone's looking as you give Mei's bottom a long, slow, lascivious squeeze. Hanako's floating just behind her, looking guilty as all hell, and the water masks the fact that she hasn't moved a finger.

Ms. Oshiro's face clouds over.

"You lewd girls! I've had just about enough!"

Mei grabs Hanako and pushes her toward the pool stairs. As she rises from the water you take the opportunity to give her slender bottom a sharp smack. She gasps but says nothing, knowing she won't be believed.

The two girls stand in their damp swimsuits before Ms. Oshiro, each dying to protest, but afraid they'll only make matters worse.

"Ms. Oshiro," pipes up Mariko, "I really think we ought to consider that the spirit's hands are involved in this, and perhaps we're playing right into them..."

"I've heard quite enough out of you, Mariko," snaps Ms. Oshiro. "Girls, outside." The swimming pool is only partly enclosed - it opens onto a grassy outdoors area where students eat and relax in the sun. Beyond the fence is a busy street thronging with passers-by.

"Onto the grass," she says. "Three hundred jumping jacks apiece. And if I see you stopping for any reason..."

The girls' faces fall. Mei smirks.

"Can we at least stop to change clothes?"

"Absolutely not."

As Ayumi and Hanako stand side-by-side on the grass, you're not the only one appreciating their nubile forms. Ayumi's full hips and heavy breasts strain the curves of her swimsuit, whereas Hanako's bare, slender legs, toned by a daily jogging ritual, seem to continue for miles. The boys in the yard enjoy the view as they stand with their legs slightly apart, obviously uncomfortable, and even the occasional hasty salaryman, rushing past the school fence, pauses to take in the view.

"Begin."

One. Two. Three. Four. Both girls are soaking wet, and droplets dance off their flexing thighs and bouncing breasts. Their hands come together high above their heads - Ms. Oshiro is a stickler for proper form. The boys don't even bother to hide their ogling. Mei scurries round the front for a better view, grinning from ear to ear. The punished girls try to avoid eye contact.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

You take hold of Ayumi's nipples and pinch.

The girl gasps, but she can't do a thing about it, not unless she wants Ms. Oshiro's anger to multiply. You hold them steady, so that as her breasts bounce up and down the nipples stay in the same place, causing a constant, irritating tug.

Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

She gets to twenty-five before you release, letting her sigh in relief. Then you give each sore nipple a kiss to make it better. Deciding this isn't enough, you lap at them teasingly with your cold ghost tongue, making her shudder. Sweat glistens on her face, mixed with the water. In no time at all her nipples are hard enough to cut glass. One of the boys points and laughs as he spots them through the cloth of her swimsuit. Ayumi squirms as the rubbing fabric stimulates her tender points, hoping no-one will notice, although they already have.

Hanako's nipples aren't as large as Ayumi's but when you commence to tweak and nibble they get hard just as fast. Soon you've got her gritting her teeth, trying not to moan under her breath as you tug and tickle.

Capping her small breasts, they threaten to pierce the fabric, and soon it's painfully obvious to everyone that she's aroused. Mei snorts in laughter as Hanako blushes and looks away, the points of her nipples drawing everyone's eyes like targets. It doesn't help that your ghost touch can be, at your command, freezing cold.

You dart back and forth between the girls, ensuring that, yes, their nipples taste almost as delicious as their humiliation. Then you take a seat among the other students and watch them squirm through maybe ten more jumps before you decide to enact the next part of your evil plan.

Picking Ayumi at random, you take hold of the sides of her swimsuit, hooking your ghost fingers into the tops of the leg-holes. If anyone notices the bunching of the fabric, they say nothing. The next time she brings her legs close together, you pull up.

You can see her tanlines - the sliver of flesh which emerges is milky pale. When you let go of the cloth, it slides back down, but not quite as far.

You repeat the process with Hanako. She doesn't have tanlines. Where's she been sunbathing? Painstakingly slowly, you move back and forth between the girls, pulling at the crotches of their swimsuits, forcing the fabric to ride up over their hipbones. Soon half of Ayumi's fair bottom is exposed, and you can see the muscles flex in Hanako's brown hips. Both swimsuits are maddeningly French-cut. You can't quite see their maidenhairs, but the shape of their mounds is no longer a mystery. The fabric is drawn tight between their bouncing buttocks.

Mei's having the time of her life watching them sweat.

Mei starts and tries to pull away as she feels ghostly fingers slide into hers.

She opens her mouth to scream and you place a finger across it. The noise that emerges is inaudible against the background chatter and the whimpers and groans of the punished girls.

"Hey, Mei," you whisper into her ear. "I'm the ghost."

"The ghost? The one the miko was talking about?"

"That's right," you whisper, your cool breath sending tingles down her spine. "I'm the ghost of a girl who hates bullies as much as you do." It's impossible to tell the gender of your call from beyond the grave, or wherever it is that you are.

"I saw those girls bullying you," you continue, "spanking your bottom, fondling your breasts like the little perverts they are, and I knew they had to be punished. Look at how hard their nipples are, how much of their legs are bare. Look at them jump and dance for our amusement. Doesn't that make you happy, Mei?"

There's a long, tense moment where you wonder what you'll do if she denounces you - probably strip off all her clothes, tie her up, gag her and leave her in the street - and then she smiles a wicked, knifelike grin.

"They deserve it," she says.

"They certainly do," you agree, "and this is only the beginning, Mei. I'm dedicating my afterlife to humiliating bullies like that."

"What about the miko?"

"Oh, we'll deal with her too, Mei."

"Don't be mean! She's only doing her job."

"As you say, Mei." You smile. It's probably good that she can't see. "As you say. Now where shall we begin?"

You run your fingers through Mei's hair and down her spine. Her body quivers beneath your touch. Her skin is warm and flushed.

No-one notices Mei moan as you slide your warm hand between her legs. Everyone's too busy looking between the legs of Ayumi and Hanako, who each still have about a hundred and fifty jumping jacks to go.

"W-what are you doing?"

"This is your reward, Mei. It's your payment for helping me out against these naughty girls."

"I d-don't like it..."

"Really? I'll stop if you want. Would you like me to stop, Mei?"

"Mmm... mmmmmmm....nnnnnn...nnoooooo..."

She tilts her head back and lets out a silent gasp as you massage her clit with your thumb. The crotch of her swimsuit would be growing damp if it wasn't already wet from the pool. Her eyes don't stray from the spectacle of Ayumi's bouncing breasts and rock-hard nipples.

"I can keep going if you want, Mei," you whisper in her ear, your breath as warm as you want it to be. "I can make you come right here in front of all these people. Would you like that?"

"Yyy...yesssssss..."

"Good girl," you whisper. "But first you have to do something for me."

A couple of people are looking over at the sound of Mei's sighs of pleasure. You're against this, if only because it distracts people from Ayumi and Hanako. Still a hundred more to go, girls! Nipples perky as ever, I see. and lovely cameltoe on Hanako. That can't feel pleasant.

You slip a finger into her mouth and let her wrap her tongue around it. You've got something else you'd happily stick into it, but you're not that kind of ghost. Plus, you told her you were a girl, remember?

Her mouth is hot and wet. She's obviously loving it.

"I want you to help me punish that miko. Her name is Mariko, and she's a naughty, naughty miko, Mei. She doesn't believe in justice. If it were up to her Ayumi and Hanako would have your swimsuit off by now and be making you swim laps in the nude."

You gently trace the outline of her clit with your tongue. Your fingers muffle her moan.

"Look at Hanako go! She has to show the boys her nipples and her wet little pussy. Doesn't that seem fair? Wouldn't you rather it be her than you?"

Mei mutters something unintelligible which you have to remove your fingers to interpret.

"It's not right," she whispers. "Mariko hasn't hurt me."

"She lets you be pushed around," you whisper. "Like that teacher, Ms. Oshiro. They don't care about you. They'd let Hanako and Ayumi run you naked down the street. Only I care about you, Mei."

"Ms. Oshiro never touched me... ohh, that feels so good..."

You pinch her nipple, not hard, just enough to show you mean business.

"Aren't they all naughty girls, Mei? Lewd, perverted bullies? Don't you want to see them all punished?"

"Mmmmm... yes, I do, yes, yes, yes..."

"Or are you a pervert as well, Mei? Don't you care if bullies walk free? Should I punish you as well?"

"Nnnnoooo... I caaarre..."

You've two fingers stroking her clit and are fondling both breasts at once. Ghost telekinesis is versatile.

"Then we're in agreement," you hiss as you stroke her all over at once. "You're going to help me embarrass Miss Mariko."

"Yeeeess..."

"You're going to do exactly as I say."

"If you help me, you're a good girl. If not, you're a naughty girl as well. Yes?"

"Yessss... oh god, yes, yes, yes yes yes YES!"

That last was at the top of her lungs. You don't bother to muffle it.

As Ayumi and Hanako collapse exhausted to the grass, kneeling, tugging frantically at the fabric that's ridden right up their behinds and doing their best to cover their stiff nipples, every pair of eyes turns to Mei. She's lying on the ground, her legs spread, panting, looking for all the world like some kind of ecchi pervert.

"That was for not saying yes right away, you whisper into her ear, and kiss her chastely on the lips. "You're a good girl, Mei. I'm sure you'll do better next time."

Mei blushes and curls into a tight little ball, but you can see she's smiling. You pat her on the head and she purrs like a kitten, oblivious to the funny looks Mariko and Ms. Oshiro are giving her. She seems to want to lie in the sun all day, panting in the afterglow, so you gently lift her sated form into a sitting position and, using her own hand, drape a towel over her loins so nobody can see how wet she is. Never let it be said you can't be considerate.

As Ayumi and Hanako climb unsteadily to their feet, you tug each girl's swimsuit up between the cheeks of her bottom so it looks like she's wearing a thong leotard, then hold it there while she tries to pull it out. Only once they've stopped struggling do you let go, and give each girl a slap on the bare buttock as they literally fall over each other in their haste to dash for the dressing rooms. You think about stealing their clothes but decide that what's called for here is a false sense of security.

The headmistress and the miko watch them run.

"You see how quickly they fled?" urges Mariko. "Some invisible force was tormenting them, I'm sure of it."

"These punishments are all about public shaming, Mariko. I'd be surprised if they wanted to stick around afterward."

"But look at how high their swimsuits rode, how hard their nipples were!"

"You seem to have quite an eye for these kind of details, Mariko." The headmistress gives her a sharp look. Mariko turns faintly red.

"All part of the training," she says, her voice wavering. "What about Mei! I think she just came! Pervert ghosts love to embarrass girls by making them cum in public places where everyone can watch..."

She trails off. The headmistress is looking at her very strangely.

"Do you know how you sound? I'm beginning to suspect this 'pervert ghost' stuff is all just wishful thinking."

'No, it's true! Stories in the scrolls go back to the samurai era! They used to strip down fishermen's wives and blow up geishas' kimonos!"

Ms. Oshiro appears skeptical.

"If this is all some fantasy you've invented so you can hang out all day in the girl's changerooms..."

"I swear it's not! If you think this is turning me on - ahhh!"

"What's happening now?" Ms. Oshiro sighs. "If you try to tell me the ghost just stroked your thigh -"

Mariko's mouth opens and closes like a stunned fish as she tries to figure out how to explain that's exactly what happened. She gasps as you lick her earlobe.

"Ah, yes," sighs Ms. Oshiro. "Your nipples are hard. A sure sign you're not enjoying any of this. Shrine maidens aren't allowed to wear bras? Or perhaps you just like it?"

Mariko goggles, looking down as you run your fingers along the underside of her soft left breast. She can't think of anything to say.

"I have enough perversion in this school as it is," says the headmistress. "But I'm the forgiving sort. You have until the end of the week to prove to me that this ghost really exists, or I'm calling the police on you as a pervert. Clear?"

"C-clear - oh my god!" gasps Mariko, bringing her knees swiftly together and clasping her hands between her thighs as if she'd been stung by a bee. You're rubbing the fabric of her skirt against her pussy, ensuring there'll be a wet spot. Ms. Oshiro rolls her eyes.

"If I catch you spying on any of my girls," she says, "you'll face the same punishment one of them would." And with that she walks off, leaving Mariko caught, legs trembling, in her knock-kneed pose by the side of the pool.

You don't let her cum. That wouldn't be any fun.

Mariko's red skirt is little more than a loose, folded sheet held together at the top by a belt tied with a bow. There's no elastic in the waistband; that's not traditional. And the cloth looks heavy. You wonder how long it would stay up by itself.

Only one way to find out!

With ghost dexterity, you undo the bow and whisk the belt away from the skirt in a single swift motion. It flies up into the rafters, lost from view.

Mariko starts and stands bolt upright, her hands flying to her waistband, exposing a damp patch on the front of her skirt. You might only see it if you were looking for it, but Mariko's not sure she wants to take that chance.

It's as you suspected; without the belt, the skirt's too wide for her, and it immediately begins to slip down her hips. Only friction's standing between Mariko's bottom and the whole population of the pool.

She tries to hold it up in front and there's a chuckle from behind as it slips down to expose half her bottom. She tries to hold it up behind and, horror of horrors, the top of her pussy is visible from the front, though luckily you're the only one to see it. You grab her wrists for a brief second, forcing her to let go, and the garment settles halfway down her hips. You relish her struggles before letting her snatch it up, one hand fore, one and aft, so that only the sides of her hips are visible in the gap between the skirt and the jacket - nothing illegal, but still not something you see every day. A lewd comment cuts the air like a knife - "Hey, look, the miko's taking her pants off!" She blushes redder than her skirt.

There's a flash of something red around the corner of the pool door. The miko gasps and scurries off after it, looking exquisitely comical with her hands clamped to her waistband.

When she's gone, you leave the belt draped casually over a towelrack. Soon enough people are looking at it and putting two and two together.

Mariko scuttles down the corridor, drawing curious glances from groups of students as she passes. She jumps as she feels the now all-too-familiar sensation of two warm ghost hands, cupping her braless breasts. You give her a fond squeeze, enjoying her cute squeaks of discomfort.

She has to hold on tightly as you pull down on the sides of her skirt, exposing more of her smooth, firm thighs. She almost trips over the hem as she clings to the waistband, trying to keep it from slipping down around her knees, but you both you your ghost strength will be too much for her.

"Hey, Mariko," you whisper. "I want you alone. Duck into that storage closet or I'll tear your skirt right off your body and everyone will know you shave your pussy."

The storage closet is small, cramped, packed high with brooms and buckets and suchlike, only big enough for one girl and one ghost. You don't bother to lock the door. If someone walks in, Mariko will just have to explain herself.

You fondle her buttocks lasciviously. She has to muffle her shrieks in case anyone hears.

"Are you a little pervert, Mariko? Do you like it when I touch you?"

"No, I don't! It's awful and embarrassing and I hate it!"

You slip a teasing finger in between her thighs.

"Then why are you so wet?"

"That's my private place! None of your business!" She flushes as you slowly stroke the length of her pussy and give her pubic hair a playful tug.

"Tell the truth, Mariko. If you're a good, honest girl I'll say where I hid your belt. If you're a naughty little liar you're going naked into the pool and I'm not letting you out until you cum."

"Okay!" pants Mariko. "I-I like it! Please let me go!"

"Did you enjoy seeing those bullies exposed to the boys? Did you get wet?"

"I didn't want to but... I did." She hangs her head, biting her lower lip.

"Did you like it when I made you squirm in front of Ms. Oshiro?"

"Ah... yes..."

"Do you masturbate, Mariko?"

"You can't ask me that!"

The door creaks open a crack. Mariko's skirt suddenly drops to half-mast.

"You're a dirty little masturbator, aren't you, Mariko? You can't help it. You play with yourself like the little perv you are."

"Eeek! Yes, I masturbate!"

Of course she does. Everyone masturbates.

"What do you think about when you masturbate?"

"Um..." she hesitates. The door swings open a little more.

"Sometimes," she gasps, "sometimes... having a boy underneath my skirt... and sometimes the other shrine maidens... sometimes the high priestess... punishing me... lifting up my skirt and taking a big wooden paddle to my bottom... in front of everyone... oooh!"

You release her as her hips buck in torment. She still hasn't quite been able to cum.

"That was excellent, my little miko," you say, patting her on the head."All I wanted to hear. Your belt's on a towelrack by the pool."

"T-thank you..."

"We're going to have some fun, you and I. You go do your best to catch me and I'll do my best to embarrass you into submission. It'll be like a game."

Mariko's eyes narrow.

"I-I will catch you, you know," she says, still short of breath. "You haven't won. I won't let you get away with such perversions, no matter what it takes to stop you."

On that final word she makes for the door but is caught when you snatch the back of her skirt.

"Ah, ah, ah, little miko," you say. "Little outbursts like that get you punished. I'm afraid we're going to have to make some... alterations to your costume..."

You've been practicing your ghost powers and have just about mastered the art of making clean telekinetic cuts through fabric. A single swift slash, like Zorro, severs Mariko's skirt just above the knee. Suddenly she's a lot less eager to flee the storage closet.

"I'm going to give you three rules to follow," you say, methodically tearing strips off her kimono. The white material wraps diagonally down from her shoulder across to her waist, and by removing perhaps three inches of cloth from the upper edge of the garment, you can expose an immodest amount of cleavage. Mariko shivers and pulls the cloth tighter against her chest, blushing as she realizes where you're almost certainly staring. Unfortunately for her, this exposes the hardness of her nipples, which you promptly begin tickling through the cloth.

"The first rule is simple," you continue. "No leaving school. If you set one foot off campus I'll consider you have chosen to forfeit our little game and are willing to pay the consequences. Ms. Oshiro will probably let you bed down in the gymnasium."

"I was planning to do that anyway," she mutters petulantly, avoiding where she thinks your gaze is. You're actually looking her full in the face.

"The second rule is harder. No changing clothes. No new kimonos, no borrowed uniforms, no nothing. If you want to catch me you'll do it wearing the costume of my choice."

"That's crazy," she protests, face flushing, folding her arms across her breasts. "I can't do that! My uniform will get dirty!"

"Dirty clothes for a dirty girl," you inform her, rubbing the cloth of her skirt between her legs. When she reaches down to defend herself you take both her nipples and pinch them tight as iron clamps. "The school has a washing machine. You can use that overnight, if you don't mind staying naked for an hour or so." Best not mention that it doesn't have a dryer. She'll figure that out for herself, hopefully ten seconds after her clothes are soaked through.

"A-and the third rule?"

Instead of answering you start pinching her all over. All girls hate being pinched, and it's one of God's cruel jokes that they have so many soft places worth pinching. Her bottom, her thighs, her belly, her rosy cheeks - she's flustered and stamping her feet before you're even halfway through the inventory.

"The third's going to be the hardest for a dirty little pervert like you," you whisper into her ear, administering a series of unnecessarily cruel pinches to the soft, warm place between her legs. She hates it. You can tell because she's wet.

You slide a finger up the length of her and slip it into her mouth, making her taste her own fluids.

"You're not allowed," you murmur, "to cum without my permission. I know that's tricky for a girl who's used to slipping off to finger herself five times a day -"

Her protests are muffled, as was your intent.

"-but if you so much think as having an orgasm without my express consent I'll make sure you get it in front of half the school. Clear?"

She mutters something indistinct. You remove your fingers.

"I'll get my revenge, you know," she whispers furiously. "I'll play along, but only because I know I can outwit you! And then I'll banish your spirit to the hell for perverts where it most assuredly belongs!"

You give her a friendly pat on the bottom.

"You're adorable when you're mad," you say. "Run along now. Try not to let your boobs show through those holes in the side of your kimono."

"What holes - oh, you bastard."

As she sprints from the closet you wonder if you should warn her about how you pulled out the waist of her skirt so it would be more likely to fall down. Nah. She'll find out.

"Eek!"

She found out.

It's a comedy of errors watching Mariko make her way back to the pool. When her skirt isn't trying to fall down around her ankles, her kimono's threatening to flap open and show her breasts. She'd need more hands to keep everything closed simultaneously. Whenever she stops to fix up her skirt, you playfully swat her ass, encouraging her to keep going, and as soon as she's moving you give it a tug to ensure it's all in disarray again. With your alterations her shirt is small enough that the bouncing of her breasts attracts attention. When she tries to clasp an arm over them you adjust the sleeve-tears so she's showing off some sideboob, and when she tries to hold the sleeves shut you pull down the front. When she stops altogether to sort this thing out you place ice-cold hands on her breasts and between her legs and don't remove them until she's off again.

By the time she makes it to the pool she's shivering, both hands are engaged in preventing her skirt from plummeting to her knees, and one cute pink nipple is poking fetchingly from the neck of her kimono, a fact of which she is as yet entirely unaware.

Two boys have her sash. They grin when they see her.

In no time at all they've organized a rousing bout of keepaway.

Mei watches, rapt, as Mariko leaps for the sash held tantalizingly just over her head, snatching for it with one hand while struggling to conceal her nipples with the other. She starts as you come sit by her.

"Enjoying yourself, Mei?"

"N-no," she stammers, but the racing of her heart gives that the lie. "Good girls tell the truth, Mei," you say. "Her nipples are bouncing out of her top for all the boys to see and she's helpless to prevent it. Doesn't that make you feel even a little good?"

It's several seconds before Mei works up the courage to answer "Yes." She stares fixedly at the ground.

"That's because it is good, Mei. It's good for naughty girls to be embarrassed. It's what they deserve."

You take her hand and kiss her cheek.

"Tell me about the naughty girls, Mei. Tell me who else needs to be embarrassed."

"There's two girls who bully me," says Mei, her skin warm to the touch. You give her thigh a stroke, encouraging her to keep going.

"Tsukiko," she says. "Tsukiko thinks she's a princess. She's the richest girl in the school and the prettiest. Her family donates a lot of money to the school, so the teachers let her get away with anything. Sometimes she doesn't even wear the uniform, but these elegant designer dresses that turn all the boy's heads, and she likes to say my own clothes are so cheap I shouldn't even bother wearing them. I bet she wears fancy underwear too."

"And the other?"

"Rin thinks she's a punk. She's not even a student, she dropped out, but she and her gang hang around outside the gates all day in their tattered punk outfits, smoking and harassing people. They think they're so tough but I bet they'd squeal like little girls if you pulled their pants down in front of everyone."

"Wonderful, Mei," you smile. "You're such a good girl, getting back at these bullies, stopping them from hurting anyone else." She goes red as you blow on the base of her neck. "Now we just have to choose where to begin..."

It's the end of the day and the sun is low on the horizon. Students are filing out of the school gates, queuing up at the bus stop or making their way to the train station. Some of the girls glance around nervously as they cross the road, striding quickly past the shadowy alleyways between the buildings of the opposite block. Who knows what could be lurking in there?

Well, you do. You already checked.

As Mei walks past the mouth of the alley a hand emerges from the darkness to grip her wrist. It belongs to Rin, a tall punk girl with green-streaked hair and a mouth locked into a permanent sneer. Members of her gang flank her, smirking, each one dressed worse than the last.

"Where you goin', shorty?"

"Home?" Mei quails. You asked her to lure the gang out, and you know she's only pretending, but she still looks like a deer surrounded by wolves.

"Home?" Rin yanks her further into the alleyway. Two of her gang move to block the exit.

"And you thought you'd take a little shortcut through our alleyway? A shortcut for shorty?" She lets go of Mei's wrist so she can light a cigarette. "You know you gotta pay the toll."

"The... toll?"

"We're not greedy. Two thousand yen and we'll let you pass..." she takes a puff, "unmolested."

"I don't have two thousand yen. And even if I did I wouldn't give it to you."

"What a shame." Rin taps ash onto the concrete."Then we'll just have to take the toll in skirts."

"Please, not again!"

"Maybe a nice, long walk home without any pants will teach you to pay your debts, shorty."

Rin's thugs grip Mei's hands and Rin reaches for her hemline. She kicks and struggles convincingly.

Now is probably the time to do something.

Rin's taking her time about peeling off Mei's skirt, gloating over the schoolgirl's anguish. She doesn't notice you unbuckle her studded belt, pulling it out three or four notches. Her baggy black pants were low enough anyway that the effect isn't immediately apparent.

They're also low enough to reveal the sides of a her green thong. Easy to loop the strap on each hip over one of the spikes on her belt. If Rin's pants come down, so does everything else.

As she bends to seize Mei there's a ripping sound behind her and a voice calls out, "Hey, nice ass!"

Rin stands bolt upright and clasps her hands to her behind. All you did was insert your finger into a hole and pull. Now there's a gash four inches long exposing a tempting expanse of Rin's flat ass.

"Who said that? Which one of you was it?"

The gang members exchange glances and step back. Nobody's sure who said it: nobody wants Rin to think it's her.

"Someone made a crack about my ass!"

One of the gang has the ill grace to snort at this juxtaposition of 'crack' and 'ass', a pun that almost certainly wouldn't work in Japanese, but never mind. Rin is on her in an instant.

"So it was you, Chikako? You dare mock me?"

Chikako, short but tough, shakes her head. "Wasn't me, Rin."

"You think torn clothes are funny?" Rin says nastily, her eyes narrowing. "How about this?"

She grabs Chikako's plaid shirt and, before the other girl can react, tears it open down the front. Buttons fly everywhere. Chikako's not wearing a bra, and the other gang members begin to chuckle nervously as they realize they aren't in trouble. Surreptitiously, Mei pulls out her cameraphone.

Chikako is on Rin in an instant, naked breasts pressing against her skull t-shirt, hands trying to pull the green right out of her hair.

Rin's forced up against the wall. You snag the back of her bra on a nail. Chikako's jacket catches on a hole in Rin's shirt, just beneath her left breast, and another in the crotch of her pants.

Rin squeals like a little girl as her hair is pulled and cops an accidental feel of Chikako's bare breasts as she tries to shove the girl away. Chikako hisses and grabs the neck of her t-shirt. She can't tear it but she can stretch it down over Rin's right shoulder, trapping the punk's arm and exposing a green bra-strap and the upper slopes of a high breast. Mei documents this meticulously.

With her free hand, Rin grabs Chikako's nipple and twists.

Chikako recoils. There is a terrible ripping sound.

Rin's shirt is torn half off. A long tear neatly frames her left breast, from which the broken bra is slipping, revealing a small brown nipple. Her midriff is bare. A hold in the crotch of her pants reveals a length of thigh and the small green triangle of fabric that is all which conceals her private parts.

Chikako starts to laugh.

"What? Stop it!"

One by one, the laughter is picked up by Rin's gang. Her cheeks flare.

"No! Stop laughing at me! I command you!"

Guffaws echo through the alleyway.

"I's not funny! I demand you stop laughing at once!"

Rin takes a step forward to remonstrate with her gang - unwisely, as it turns out. This was all the impetus her pants needed to come entirely undone and drift gently to her ankles, taking her thong with them.

Her bush is small and curly. There's a click and a flash as Mei captures it forever.

Rin tries to cover herself. Sadly, you've looped her studded leather bracelets together and her hands are now fastened behind her back. She shuffles forward, painfully slow, face bright red, naked below the waist. Her ears ring with the sound of her gang's mockery.

"Please," she begs. "please stop laughing!" It falls on deaf ears.

"I've had about enough of you anyway," says Chikako, eyes locked on Rin's pussy as the gang's giggles subside. "Mei, you were her most recent victim. Any suggestions on what to do with her?"

"Time for a spanking!" Mei says brightly. You didn't even have to advise her. The girl's a natural.

"Don't you dare!" storms Rin. "If anyone touches me I'll tear off their clothes with my teeth!" She stoops into a little ball, tits pressed against her knees. Mei captures the image.

"I'd like to see that," says Chikako, fastening her jacket. The other girls are already marching forward, grabbing Rin by the shoulders and pulling to her feet. She screams and tries to kick but her feet are tangled in her underpants.

"Maybe we should spank both of you," says Chikako, looking thoughtfully at Mei. "Then we could tie you up together and make you kiss."

"Try it," says Mei, "and you'll end up nakeder than her."

There's something in her gaze that gives Chikako pause.

"Alright," she says. "Rin, touch your toes."

"I won't do it! You can't make me!"

"I'll post these pictures online," says Mei, grinning evilly. "Every boy in school will jack off to your blushing face and wet pussy. Some of the girls, too."

"That was impressively dirty," says Chikako, as a reddening Rin obeys her orders. You unbind her cuffs so she can comply, then quickly bind them again to her shoes. No-one seems to notice. "Have you done this sort of thing before?"

"No," says Mei, turning faintly red herself. "It's easy once you start, though." She carefully documents the way Rin's pussy peeps through the gap between her legs from behind. There's an oath from the punk as she realizes she can't stand up again. One of the gang girls bounces a coin off her left buttock.

Chikako gives her three swift strokes on each cheek, each one accompanied by a hop and a squeal. Then each of the other girls has a go. When they're all done Rin's bottom is bright and the torrent of abuse pouring from her mouth is making even you blush.

"Your turn!" announces Chikako. Mei almost falls over. It's no surprise: the whole time she was watching, a hot, wet ghost mouth was hard at work between her legs.

You were whispering endearments in her ear and stroking her all over, sending shivers through her whole body. It's a wonder she was able to keep taking pictures.

"My turn? Me?"

"Well, it was your idea."

"You can do it, Mei," you whisper, and give her a demonstrative pat on the bottom. "Just like that."

Mei steps forward.

Her first smack is tentative. Her second is harder and, judging by the way Rin howls, her third must have stung like the devil.

"No more! Please! My bottom hurts!"

"I want you to say something for me," says Mei, smacking her again. "Say you're a naughty slut who deserves to be spanked by everyone."

"What is wrong with you? No!"

"Fine. 'Japanese punk pantsed and spanked' will just have to circulate the internet forever."

"Noooooooo! Please, I'll do anything! Just don't make me into pornography!"

Well?" prods Mei. "I'm waiting."

"I'm..." Rin is practically sobbing with humiliation. "I'm a naughty slut who deserves to be spanked by everyone!"

Mei spanks her twice in quick succession.

"Well, you did say you deserved it," she says with a smile. "Say that you're a little pervert who plays with herself."

"I'm a little pervert who plays with herself. Ow! Oww! Ahhh!"

Your tongue finds its way between her legs.

"Your pussy's getting wet," observes Mei.

"No it isn't."

"Say it is."

"My pussy's wet, my pussy's wet, my pussy's - ow! - wet."

You nibble on her clit. She squeezes her thighs together, to no avail.

"Describe your pussy."

"It's... wet."

"And?"

"Ow ow ow it's - hot and, and slutty, and soaking wet -"

"Is your bottom red?"

"Yes. I'm a naughty slut with a red bottom and my pussy's soaking wet."

"Did you get all that?"

"All of it," says Chikako, brandishing the video camera.

"And are you going to come for me, my little slut with a red bottom?"

"What? No, of course I'm not going to -"

One lick makes her a liar.

The girls collapse into laughter as Rin shudders and moans her way through a very public orgasm.

"Just from spanking!" Chikako crows. "Who would've thought Rin was such a dirty girl? I can't wait to tell this story to everyone!"

The punk girl is lying on the ground, mortified and sticky. You unbuckle her bracelets so she can rub her sore bottom.

"I'll... I'll have my revenge for this," she swears, panting."Mark my words, Mei. One day you'll regret this."

"Not half so much as you will," says Chikako unsympathetically. "Peel off, Rin. Time for you to get completely nude."

Rin thinks about protesting and decides against it.

Hesistantly, still sweating from her orgasm, she peels her torn shirt over her head. The bra's next, though not until Mei's posted a single image of Rin's nipples to the internet does she grit her teeth and comply. Her breasts are small and perky. Mei makes her sit on the ground and play with them, bouncing them in her hands and rolling the nipples between her fingertips. Absurdly, since they're not covering anything, Rin haggles for an awfully long time over the pants, until Mei threatens to send her into the street and make her catch a bus home. Finally she co-operates, relinquishing the shoes into the bargain.

She looks adorable, sitting naked on the damp concrete, trying to hide her bits from all the giggling girls.You whisper into Mei's ear.

"And now it's time for - Rin's naked masturbation show!"

"What?"

"C'mon, Rin." Mei smirks. "You said you played with yourself, and we're all dying to see how you do it."

Turns out it's with one hand stroking her tit, one thumb toying with her clit and three fingers thrust deep into her pussy. She also smiles for the camera and says "Hi, I'm Rin, and this is my naked masturbation show," but you doubt she does that every single time.

"One last thing," says Chikako, after diligent fingering has granted Rin her second orgasm. "Get on your hands and knees and kowtow to us."

"That's it?"

"Grovel till we tell you to rise and we'll give your clothes back and let you run home."

Obediently, Rin sinks to her knees and places her head between her hands, flat on the ground.

"Beg forgiveness."

"I'm sorry," begins Rin. "I'm sorry for being a bully, I'm sorry for pushing girls around and taking their skirts, I'm sorry I'm such a mean bitch, I'm sorry I'm a wet little pervert, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, please forgive me?"

"Weren't you listening? Keep going until I tell you to stop."

Rin keeps going. And going. In that vein. For maybe fifteen minutes.

When she finally dares to break the rules by looking up, everyone's disappeared, and so have her clothes.

She peeps around the alley's entrance before ducking out into the night, standing quite naked on a public street that only happens to be empty at the moment, wondering how on earth she's going to get back to her apartment. Usually she gets the bus, but her pass went with her clothes, and with a sinking feeling she realizes it's maybe two hours' walk.

You love the expression on a girl's face when she realizes she's stranded naked and no matter how hard she tries, extensive public exposure is almost certainly going to be in her future. But you're not finished yet. There's one other thing you want to try.

You can touch a girl in more than one place at a time. Ghost telekinesis means you're not limited by your corporeal form: you can lick a girl's neck and her nipple simultanously, preferably when she least expects it, like when she's in the middle of a maths exam. How far, you wonder, could the distance stretch on that?

You do something you can't quite explain - it's like sending out a tendril of ethereal force, a little limpet of ectoplasm that latches on and lingers.

Rin stiffens as she feels a familiar licking between her legs. She groans as it increases in intensity.

You smile as you drift away, watching Rin squirm as the curse you've put on her publicly pesters her privates.

With luck it'll dissipate by morning.

Mei's upstairs in bed, checking her email. This strikes you as boring until you see that Chikako's sent her the video of Rin masturbating. Chewing raptly on a pencil, she watches the part when Rin introduces herself over and over again.

One small hand creeps down the front of her pajama pants.

"Enjoying yourself, Mei?"

"Ahh! I was just - "

"It's all right, Mei. I know what you were doing."

She blushes. "Please don't punish me. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right, Mei. You're allowed to take pleasure in justice."

"I-I am?"

"Why do you think I'm here?"

You kiss both her nipples - at once.

"Good girls get a reward," you say. "They get kissed all over. Does that feel nice, MeI?"

"s-so nice..."

You start the video again. Mei squirms as she's kissed in half a hundred places at once.

Her mouth lolls open as she begins to make out with thin air.

"How jealous must Rin be?" you say. "Watch her squirm! She's running home naked right now and you're getting covered with kisses. This, Mei, is how good justice feels."

She comes before Rin does.

Afterwards you find her vibrator beneath her bed and tease her with it while making her tell you how Mariko's a pervert who needs to be punished. She goes into surprising detail on her sexual fantasies while she's bent over with it purring between her legs.

You tuck her in, naked and sated.

"Good night," she whispers, sticky from climax.

"Good night, my little avenger."

She purrs. "I like being your little avenger."

"I know you do," you say, kissing her forehead. "You're my little avenger. And believe me, your vengeance has only just begun."

Mariko's sash is dangling in a tree, high overhead. She looks up at it forlornly.

You wonder what happened here. It's a simple matter to reconstruct. The boys led Mariko a merry chase around the school, making her bound over chairs, leap from low windows, crawl under desks and all manner of athletic feats that would result in the unexpected loss of her clothes. Tiring of the game, they tossed the sash into a high tree and a crowd assembled to look up her skirt as she climbed it. It was a very windy day, as you recall.

Judging by certain grass stains, she fell more than once into the big pile of cut grass below the tree, leftovers from the day's groundskeeping, and had to scramble around on all fours trying to close her shirt and get her skirt back up. This is when Ms. Oshiro arrived. Knowing the headmistress, she didn't saying, just stood their tapping her feet while Mariko extricated herself and then punctured her self-esteem with a single blow while everyone stood around laughing at the bare-naked pervert miko.

You decide to introduce yourself by insinuating a frozen finger into her bottom.

But as you get close, you feel a reverberation in your ectoplasm. Some strange force is preventing you from making direct contact with Mariko's skin! What could this be?"

"Seals under my clothes," she says smugly. "Don't think I'm stupid, Mr. Ghost. I know you're there and I know that you can't touch me."

She smiles smugly. "Now who's helpless? Fetch my sash from the tree this instant and maybe I won't banish you to pervert hell. You can stay on the mortal plane as my servant - making me tea, cooking my breakfast. How'd you like to take orders for a change?"

The sash flies from the tree and bobs above the miko's head, tantalizingly out of reach. She folds her arms and scowls.

"Don't think I'm falling for that! You want me to jump so my skirt falls down!"

She snatches for it anyway. You tug it through her fingers.

"If you don't hand it over right away," she snaps, "I'm going back to my room and getting my sacred banishing candles!"

Can't have that. The sash falls to the grass in front of the miko. As she bends to pick it up a mysterious wind whips up out of nowhere, blowing her skirt forward over her head. The sash jerks away as she stands bolt upright.

The skirt's somehow been tied into a knot over her head. Her upper body is wrapped in red cloth and she's naked below the waist except for a slim magic seal that barely covers her pussy.

You still can't go anywhere near it. It's all you can do to get the belt wrapped around her waist, exactly as it's meant to go, except the job it's doing now is ensuring that Mariko remains exposed. She can't get her hands past the belt. The seal is all that upholds her modesty, and it really is quite short.

"Let me go at once! You think I can't banish you with no hands!"

You blow cold air up her bottom.

"Can you banish me with no pants?"

She lunges in the direction of your voice. You dodge. "The bare-assed miko," you say. "There's a tale for the history books."

From there it's just a matter of luring her with your taunts until she takes one step too many and tumbles face-first into the pool.

She emerges, sputtering, having worked the knot free from the inside. "At last, fiend! I have escaped your wicked machinations! Prepare for the banishing of a lifetime!"

Then she looks down and starts to think about the soluble qualities of seal paper.

The seal's already beginning to slip. A jet of cool water separates it from her body entirely. She watches in horror as it's sucked into the drain and disappears.

"I have more! You still can't touch me! So... don't try!"

"Not bad, miko," you say, teasing her pussy with a current of water. "Your magical defenses were stronger than I expected. But now I suspect you've run out."

"I"m still shielded!" says the miko hotly. "If you touch me you'll be instantly banished to the hell dimension!"

You touch her. Actually, you take her kimono and pull it down to her waist, baring her breasts and binding her arms to her sides. You don't get banished anywhere.

"You're a little liar, Mariko," you say, "and little liars have to play punishment games. Let's see. If you can get out of the pool, I'll give you a moment to rest."

"I don't want to play!"

"That's why it's funny."

While you fondle her breasts and bottom, she tries to lever herself out of the pool using only her upper body. This doesn't work. You grab her ankles, holding her back as she makes a dash for the shallow end. She struggles to free her hands.

You freeze a handful of pool-water into an chunk of ice and run it between her legs. Her screams are delicious.

"Try harder, little miko," you taunt as she desperately wonders how to use the ladder without her hands, leaping and struggling to escape the horrible freezing sensation between the cheeks of her bottom.. "We've still got all night."

You weigh and measure her breasts systematically, lifting one, then the other, checking for asymmetries. You find none. They're a lovely matched pair, about a C-cup, capped by large dark nipples which respond well to being rolled between your fingers. They're buoyed by the pool. You lift them by the nipples and let them splash into the water.

"What else have you got, little miko?" you ask. "Anything to stop me from spending all night playing with these beautiful breasts? I hope not."

She's beside herself with impotent rage. You yank her sandals off and let them clatter by the poolside, then hold her ankles together and tickle her bare feet mercilessly. She thrashes and hollers but there's no-one there to save her.

"Frozen bottom, tickled feet, fondled tits," you say. "This is just a taste of what I'll do to you if you don't talk."

"Candles... in my car," she manages to get out between bouts of helpless, humiliated laughter. Her forearms strain to fend off the assault you're making on her tits, but they're trapped uselessly at her sides. You and Mariko's breasts have made quite an intimate acquaintance. You could probably reconstruct them from memory.

"Seals... too," she mutters. "Staffs and talismans. All kinds of... miko stuff. Should've used it earlier."

Her skirt, heavy with water, is down around her knees. You knot it around her lower legs.

"If you can get out before I'm back," you say, "I might not make you sleep on the roof tonight. Otherwise it's naked below the stars. Have fun!"

And you float off to the carpark while she tries to solve the problem of climbing out.

The car's easy. All the stuff is in the back, the front isn't protected, so you drive it out the front and park it illegally. It'll be impounded by morning.

Mariko's got her chin hooked over the top rung of the pool ladder. You watch as she kicks her calves and works her shoulders, trying to get her upper body onto the tiles so she can pull her legs free of the water.

It looks exhausting. She's breathing heavily, and you can see frustration bloom on her face every time she slips back into the water. Only by dint of tremendous effort does she lever herself free from the pool and stand, bound but triumphant, on the tiles.

You push her back in.

The expression of shock and betrayal on her face is a sight you would carry to your grave if you weren't already (probably) dead.

Her blouse and skirt join her sandals in a neat pile on the furthest edge of the pool. She eyes them sullenly.

"Looks like you didn't make it out in time!" you say cheerfully. "Lucky for you I'm in a forgiving mood. Shall we say twenty laps of backstroke as your forfeit?"

The miko's a surprisingly good swimmer, though she tends to lose form a bit when ice is rubbed between her kicking legs. As a reward, when she finally climbs out of the pool, you let her get almost ten steps in the direction of her clothes before you push her back in yet again.

Letting her think she's out for good, then hurling her back into the deep end, proves funny enough that you keep doing it long after Mariko's over it. She has to crawl all around the pool on her hands and knees, being spanked the whole way, before you'll let her have her clothes back. Once she's got them on you throw her in again.

She emerges, flailing and furious.

"I can't wear these! They're soaked and filthy!"

"There's a washing machine in the teacher's lounge."

"And where exactly is that?"

"Hey, Mariko. Let's play another game."

You can see her face falling.

Bearing her clothes, folded neatly, on her back, Mariko crawls through the school corridors. A steady stream of air blows on her wet pussy, warm or cool, depending on if she's getting close. You amuse yourself by leading her in circles, detouring through classrooms and out across the lawn.

Finally she stands naked and shivering in the teacher's lounge, covering herself with one hand while loading the machine with the other.

The doors close. The machine whirs into life.

You lift Mariko bodily and deposit her in a sitting position atop the buzzing machine.

She shrieks and hops down. You pick her back up and this time you make sure she stays there.

"Enjoying yourself, Mariko?" you purr as she shifts uncomfortably upon the vibrating surface. "N-no," she mutters, her face coloring, sweat dripping from her nipples. The top of the machine is making her bottom awfully warm.

You spread her legs for her.

"But you're so wet, Mariko," you say in tones of mock astonishment. "How could you not be enjoying yourself? Why, I think you're about to have an orgasm, you dirty little slut!"

"I'm not a slut - ooh, no!"

The machine shifts into high gear. Mariko tilts her head back and begins to moan.

Her gasps of pleasure grow higher and higher in pitch. As they reach a crescendo - just seconds before she attains her pinnacle of pleasure - you snatch her bodily from the machine, whisk her across the lounge into the bathroom adjacent, hurl her into a glass shower cubicle and slam the door shut.

"If you're not a slut," you say, "you won't need an orgasm. What you need is a nice cold shower to calm you down!"

And you lock the shower onto "arctic downpour" mode, the taps suddenly refusing to untwist, and laugh as she curses you and bangs uselessly against the glass.

All Mariko's sensitive spots are pressed flat against the glass, in a desperate attempt to shield them from the freezing cold water now coursing down her back and trickling between her cheeks. If you had a camera you'd take a photo and hang it above the school gates, but you don't so you settle instead for fixing it in your mind forever.

"Not scared of a little cold water, are you, Mariko?" you ask. "Keeps you chaste and humble. I bet at the temple they make you stand under waterfalls for hours on end."

"That-that that tests strength," she gasps through chattering teeth. "This is just mean."

"No, little miko. This is mean."

You lift her by the waist, rubbing her breasts in circles against the wet glass. Her nipples aren't quite hard enough to cut it. Her damp skin squeaks on the glass and she can see herself in the mirror across from the shower, bare and flat against the wall. The cold water is focused directly on her ass.

You spin her around. Now her ass is flat on the glass and the cold water is raising a corona of goosebumps around her shaved pussy.

"Do the other mikos know you shave your pussy?" you ask Mariko. "Do you like feeling naked down there, beneath your little skirt?"

"Put me down!"

"Maybe I should have you wear a sign. It would say, "I'm Mariko and I shave my pussy!' Would you like that?"

"Release me at once, pervert!"

You shut her up by spraying cold water into her face. She's pressed against the wall, spread-eagled, allowing you access to every intimate point on her body. You alternate between spraying her breasts and her face, her nipples tightening to spearpoints as she begs you to stop. The rivulets chilling her clit can't feel pleasant either. You flick it a couple of times just to drive home the point that she's helpless.

Then you give her a slow, leisurely ice bath everywhere that counts and a few places that don't. Whenever she opens her mouth to protest you spray her in the face until she shuts it.

For the grand finale you press the shower head into her left hand, turn her to face the mirror and have her masturbate with it. The right hand you force into a snappy salute which she has to hold while you fondle her tits. She doesn't come near orgasm, the cold sees to that, but the pressure against her pussy is enough to make her tremble as she watches her reflection be pawed invisibly.She's seeing how ridiculous she looks, humiliated and outraged, and it only humiliates and outrages her further.

It seems like an age that she has to stand there, saluting and masturbating, cold water invading her decency, being alternately slapped and tickled by unseen hands. And, in fact, it is.

You don't give her a moment's warning before changing the temperature of the shower to scalding hot. She shrieks and almost drops the nozzle.

"Time to clean you up," you say, adjusting the tap to a more comfortable temperature. "Though you're never going to stop being a dirty girl, are you, little miko?"

You fetch the soap and the scrubbing brush.

It's a long-handled wooden bath brush that is perfect for administering a few sharp smacks to Mariko's backside, just to keep her on her toes. This provokes a torrent of the foulest abuse you've ever heard from a woman of the gods.

"Those are some very bad words, Mariko!" you say, affecting shock. "I think I'm going to have to scrub them right out of your mouth."

"What - no, please, I'll be good, mmph!"

Her face contorts at the foul taste. Her eyes begin to water.She'd beg for mercy but her mouth's full of soap.

You wash her mouth out, leaving suds on her lips, and proceed to lather up her neck and back, saving her more sensitive areas for later. In no time at all she's clad in a thick layer of suds. She tries to rub them in herself but you hold her arms and insist on doing it for her. All the while she's watching her reflection squirm.

The brush floats ominously before her. She bites her lip and looks away.

You begin by lifting her into the air and scrubbing the bottom of her feet. This tickles excruciatingly, so naturally you proceed with exquisite slowness, carefully invading the spaces between her toes.

"So much as a giggle," you hiss, "and I'll gag you with the soap." By the time you're done her face is bright red with the strain of not laughing, and the occasional pitiful whine emerges from between her clenched lips. She looks so pathetic you almost feel sorry for her.

She can't help herself when you start in on her ribs, but that wasn't really the deal, so you simply proceed to her underarms. Only once she's been thoroughly, ticklishly tormented everywhere else do you proceed to the place between her legs.

She wails as you work her over with a thoroughness and vigor not generally seen in good hygiene practices. Her leg muscles tense, trying to pull away from the maddening itch in her clit. The shame in her face as she watches her soaped-up pussy get scrubbed till it's shiny and clean is divine.

When you let her down she's panting and, from the look on her face, perilously close to an orgasm, so you give her a quick blast of cold to make sure that doesn't happen. Then you turn off the tap and let her climb out, her knees wobbling. Her hands fly to her poor, sensitive pussy, rubbing it tentatively.

"Er - is there a towel?"

"Why bother, sweet miko," you ask, nibbling her neck, "when you could run just laps around the school until you dry?"

The washing machine's maybe halfway done.

The school's pretty big, maybe a thousand students. It takes her perhaps half an hour to streak around the whole perimeter, stopping to do jumping jacks at each corner. The occasional late-night driver honks at her as he passes by, perhaps mistaking her for a participant in some student prank. You suppose in a way she is.

Afterwards she's dry and eager to see how her clothes are doing but you insist on taking her by the hand and showing her around the school. Here's the gymnasium - some pushups, please, fitness is important. The kitchens - a dab of whipped cream on the tip of your nose. The auditorium - there's no-one here, get up on stage and sing us a song. The science labs, not much to do here, but in the AV rooms you insist that Mariko poses for some pictures before you move on. The games room, where you demonstrate proper use of a ping-pong paddle, and the chess club, where she beats you in a game, earning the right to sleep indoors. Finally the convenience store across the road, where she buys seventeen nudie mags and a Kit Kat from a very surprised clerk. By the time she and her vast pile of lesbian pornography make it back to the teachers' lounge she's tuckered out.

She extracts her clothes from the machine, looks around for a dryer and realizes, once again, that she hates you. Grudgingly she folds them over a balcony railing.

You sneak up behind her.

"What are you doing?'

"Brushing your hair."

"Do you have to?"

"Would you rather I shave it into a mohawk?"

She collapses into a couch, trying and failing not to appreciate the sensation of warm hands brushing out her tangled hair and massaging her scalp. By the time you're done she's asleep.

You begin to stroke her, whispering filthy suggestions into her ear. Very soon shes having some terribly perverted dreams.

A few hours later her eyes flicker open. Sunlight is streaming in through the window, warming her nude body. Suddenly she sits bolt upright.

School's starting in under an hour! Already she can hear voices in the corridor outside. And she has nothing to wear!

She throws open the door to the balcony and just as quickly throws it shut as she realizes a) it's visible from the central court, though at present only a couple of kids are there and b) her clothes are gone anyway. She's got a sneaking suspicion about what happened to them.

There's a note on the desk. She unfolds it with some trepidation.

"Mariko,

Your shoes, your sash, your skirt and your blouse have been secreted in various locations around the school. Find them all and I may allow you to put them back on! But to show I'm not totally heartless, I have provided you with the following cryptic clues as to their location..."

Clue 1: Checkmate

Katashi's cleaning the games room, humming to himself. This is his first day back at school in two weeks, after a nasty flu knocked him out of commission, and it seems to be in a dreadful state. Somebody played chess yesterday and didn't bother to pack up the board.

He scowls as he notices, without counting, that one of the pawns are missing. This sort of thing infuriates Katashi, it really does. People don't have enough respect for board games. They don't appreciate the sublime beauty of a Diplomacy or a Settlers of Catan. Especially not girls. Girls are the worst. All Katashi really wants is a girl who he can sit down and explain the rules of Magic: the Gathering to in painstaking detail without her laughing in his face, but for some reason they don't seem to exist.

He's never even seen a naked girl, aside from internet porn, which is how he occupied most of the last two weeks.

What's this? A kimono sash, tucked away in a corner of the games closet? These girls really don't clean up after themselves!

He bends to extract it from the corner into which it's wedged and has just got it free when there's a nervous cough from behind him.

"Um... excuse me, please don't turn around."

He turns around.

"EEEEEEEEEEE! DON'T LOOK!"

It is the single best thing that has ever happened to him.

"STOP LOOKING! WHY ARE YOU LOOKING?"

The mystery girl tries to grab her sash back and winds up accidentally hugging him instead. This is the new best thing that has ever happened to him.

"GIVE IT BACK! PERVERT!"

As her feet pad away down the corridor, it occurs to him that what just happened was in all likelihood a gift from God and should never be questioned. Nor is it likely to ever be topped.

All he has to look forward to for the rest of the day is class with Tsukiko.

  1. Where no man should ever set foot.

Her sash tied around her breasts as a makeshift bandeau, Mariko creeps through the corridors, expecting at any moment to be ambushed by an army of nerds. She's guessed her clothes have to be in a girls' bathroom, but which? There must be hundreds of them! Twice already she's had to hide behind a corner as a diligent student trod past, missing her completely in their haste to begin the day early, and she's spent ten heart-pounding minutes cowering under a desk while a patrolling, ruler-wielding Ms. Oshiro surveys the classroom.

Could it be this one? She hesitates on the verge, then ducks inside as she hears giggles coming round the corner behind her.

She crams herself into a cubicle and realizes too late that the lock doesn't work.

The giggles move closer. There's two girls standing right outside her door. You open it a crack, just to fuck with her.

"-that's such a great plan! I can't wait to see the look on that little slut's face when she realizes we've got her back."

"I know! Hey, whose sandals are these?"

Mariko's heart skips a beat.

"They look like that pervert miko's. Did you feel the way her eyes crawled across our asses? Why'd she leave her sandals here?"

"Dunno. Some sex thing. Should we take them?"

"I don't see why."

This is perfect! All she has to do is wait until the girls go, then sneak out and retrieve her clothes. As long as she's perfectly silent while they're here.

The girls finish checking are just about to leave when they hear a strange sound from one of the cubicles, almost like a giggle. Turning, puzzled, they investigate.

Mariko, mostly bare, face red and eyes watering from the effort of not laughing, looks up into the narrowed eyes of Ayumi and Hanako. She had held on for a surprisingly long time.

You give her one last tickle and leave her to her fate.

  1. Painful memories

Only when the bell for first class rings to summon them are Ayumi and Hanako forced to let Mariko go. They don't mind too much; with all the incriminating footage of Mariko now captured on their cameraphones, they can force her to do pretty much anything they want, and they make damn sure Mariko knows about it. "Meet us after school," whispers Ayumi as she leaves, "or these photos go straight to Ms. Oshiro."

Mariko waits until she's fairly sure that most students will be safely in their classrooms then slinks, chastened, from the bathroom. Half an hour's teasing, poking, pinching and fondling at the hands of the two bullies had been bad enough, but did they really have to tie her hands behind her back with her own sash? They'd said it was to keep her from masturbating, but that didn't explain the little bell they'd fastened around her neck. Where had Hanako even gotten that from?

At least she'd gotten her shoes back.

She jingles as she jogs through the hallways, expecting at any moment for someone to come running and catch her bare-assed. Whenever she passes a classroom she has to kneel down and shuffle along below window height. Whenever she does this you tease her pussy, trying to make her squeal, until she stands again. Once you make the sound of a whole crowd of students coming around a corner, just to watch her freeze in fear. Life is good.

A handful of anonymous students loitering about the pool look up as she approaches. One wolf-whistles. One takes a photo. The bell jangles merrily as she toddles over to the towel-rack, avoiding their eyes.

She stands by the hung skirt, looking forlorn, as she wonders how she'll get it back on.

Eventually one of the boys condescends to untie her hands, but only after she's paid a number of forfeits. These conclude with standing on one of the diving blocks and singing every J-pop song anyone can think of until one of the girls tires of the game and pushes her in.

While Mariko is being towelled off by helpful volunteers, then pushed back in, then being towelled off again just for the fun of it, you decide to see what Tsukiko's up to.

Regulations apparently require that she arrives at school wearing the uniform but are lax on whether she's allowed to change during the day, a fact that Tsukiko exploits to the utmost. She's currently siting in maths class, wearing her uniform, making a pest of herself by putting her hand up every five minutes and answering all the teacher's questions in an annoyingly smug voice, sometimes before he's even finished asking them. A right Hermione Granger, this one.

Her dress is in her locker. It's a beautiful emerald green designer concoction from a label you don't recognize but are sure is quite famous. This will never do. You undo the locker from the inside and confiscate the dress, replacing it with a bright red off-the-shoulder number which you prepared earlier and that's about four sizes too small. You give the nice dress to Mei, she's about Tsukiko's size. Sadly there's no underwear in the locker for you to sabotage: Tsukiko's probably wearing them. For now.

You float off the check and yes, beneath her clothes Tsukiko's wearing a black bra in lace and satin and a matching black thong. How fascinating.

Hmmm, that's interesting, Katashi thinks. From this angle it almost looks like Tsukiko's wearing a...

Wearing a...

"Are you all right, Katashi?"

"Fine, Miss," chokes Katashi. He can't think of how to explain that Tsukiko's skirt is right up around her waist, revealing a length of thigh and the silken crotch panel of what is very clearly a black thong. Surely it must be some kind of optical illusion? She's so intent on the board she hasn't noticed.

"Excuse me, Miss, you've done it wrong!"

"Well, Tsukiko," says the teacher tiredly, "why don't you come up here and show us all the correct way."

"My pleasure, Miss!"

She gives them all a condescending sneer as she heads to the board, as if to say, why didn't you think of that? Are you stupid? Katashi barely notices.

Someone's left the window open. As Tsukiko stretches on tiptoe to reach the top of the board, a gust whistles through the room and the back of her skirt flips up. She eeps and hastily catches it but not before Katashi's seen the black silk strand, thin as spiderweb, that runs between her pert and otherwise naked buttocks.

A current runs through the class, something along the lines of, did you see that? Was that real? Katashi reclines, satisfied.

This truly is the best day of his life.

The next time Tsukiko raises her hand she lowered it swiftly to her chest, fumbling with a couple of the middle buttons, and after that she's silent all lesson. Katashi overhears her talking to a friend on the way out - "If I find out who kept snapping my bra, he's going to pay!" Silently he blesses whatever gods saw fit to give Tsukiko a good old-fashioned bra-snapping.

He can't help but notice her thong is riding up behind her skirt. He hopes someone notices. She could get in trouble for something like that.

  1. No shirt, no service.

In between bra-snappings, you catch up on what's going on with Mariko. In skirt, shoes and sash-bandeau, she's actually covered for once!

She still doesn't look totally comfortable though. The students and salarymen in line with her at the convenience store are all much better dressed.

The bored-looking girl behind the counter, the one who's kept Mariko waiting for fifteen minutes now, looks oddly familiar. Hey! It's Chikako from before! This must be her day job. What are the chances?

"Um, excuse me? Did someone leave a white shirt here?"

Chikako pops her gum and focuses intently on her fashion magazine. Oddly, the men in line don't seem to mind.

"Excuse me? I need a shirt."

"Sure do, sugartits," says Chikako, not looking up.

Mariko snatches the magazine from her hand and tears it in half.

"Listen, I have been through enough today without taking any shit for a checkout chick! Give me the shirt, now!"

Chikako glares.

"I would've handed it over eventually," she says, "but now you're going to make it worth my while."

By the time Mariko gets off shift, the queue goes halfway round the block and the lesbian porn mags that Chikako let her fashion a dress from are all but falling apart. Not until she's hurtling down the street, running to catch the clothes that Chikako threw into the wind, do they collapse entirely. She gets almost five blocks before they snag on a powerline and she can start jumping. Crowds gather.

You spot an approaching policewoman, strip her to her underwear and handcuff her to a fountain several blocks away. You don't want Mariko arrested. Yet.

You stop to whisper in Mariko's ear on the way back to the school. Her skirt's snagged on a power pole a couple of meters above the ground, just high enough that she can only touch it with the tips of her fingers. She's surrounded by a couple dozen bystanders of all shapes and sizes, most of them with their cameraphones out. You stroke her hair while you talk.

"Do you like being naked in public, Mariko?"

"No," she hisses through gritted teeth, so the onlookers won't think she's any crazier than they already do. "I hate it and I hate you."

You pat her blushing cheek.

"I think you do, Mariko," you say. "I think you like it so much you're going to masturbate for me later, out in front of everyone."

She blushes even harder. "No chance, pervert." Her fingertips brush the hem. Her bouncing bottom is meticulously documented from every angle.

"That's my girl," you smile. "Never give up. Now turn around and give the boys some jumping jacks, unless you want each one to take home a piece of genuine miko uniform as a souvenir."

The girls' locker room is full of half-naked young ladies all chatting away as they strip out of their uniforms. You pinch a couple of bottoms just for fun as you zoom across the room toward Tsukiko. In just her black lingerie, she's drawing more than a few appreciative glances, though none of them notice you spirit away her uniform.

You see astonishment on her face as she opens her locker.

"Is this a joke? Who stole my dress? And my shoes! They were expensive!"

The room falls silent. Girls freeze, their panties at half-mast.

Tsukiko's eyes lock onto Mei.

"Jealous little bitch," she says. "Couldn't afford one of your own? Let's see how you like having your clothes stolen."

She snaps her fingers and two tall girls begin to advance on Mei, who's looking terrified and wearing nothing but long socks.

"Throw her into the corridor," she says. "And lock the door behind her."

Mei backs against the door, charmingly nude, aware that everyone's eyes are on her. The two tall girls grin as they advance. You suspect that this isn't the first time she's been thrown out of the locker room in the nude and made to beg to be let back in.

Though it'll be the last time.

A spare pair of panties whizzes across the floor. Tall Girl #1 - you didn't catch her name - steps on them and tumbles backwards, straight into the arms of Tall Girl #2. Somehow she gets spun around in the fall, and her flailing arms catch onto the nearest handhold - Tall Girl #2's skirt and panties, which collapse around her ankles with a little judicious help from yours truly. Tall Girl #2, supporting the weight of Tall Girl #1, staggers backwards and ends up sitting on a wooden bench with Tall Girl #1 kneeling in front of her, head caught between her legs. Tall Girl #1 tries to stand but somehow her pigtails have been tied to the slats of the chair, trapping her lips against Tall Girl #2's private parts. Tall Girl #2's attempts to extricate herself only make matters worse.

"If you want something done right..." sighs Tsukiko.

Mei feints left as she attacks, somehow managing to snatch onto the bra you've just unclasped and fling it across the room. Tsukiko shrieks as her breasts are uncovered. "Bitch! You'll pay for that!"

The girls grapple on the floor, slapping and tickling to their heart's content for an audience of shocked schoolgirls. Tsukiko grabs Mei by the hair, rises, drags her kicking and screaming to the door and throws it wide open.

Katashi, chilling in the corridor, looks up from his gameboy.

A thin trickle of blood begins to leak from his nose.

You take advantage of the girls' stunned silence to gently extricate Mei from Tsukiko's grip, make a couple of quick snips and give her a gentle shove. When the door swings shut with a click there's only a scrap of black lace on the floor to show she was ever there.

Mei's eating dessert in the cafeteria when the doors slam open and Tsukiko's standing there, furious and dishevelled, falling out of a little red dress. The hem barely covers her bottom, her nipples are visible through the silk and its backlessness makes her bralessness vividly obvious.

"You! Do you know what I had to go through to get this?"

Mei shrugs, lifting a spoonful of jelly to her mouth. Her confidence only infuriates Tsukiko further. You've been lurking about the whole lunch hour, stroking her and whispering sweet nothings into her ear, preparing her for this moment.

"Panty-stealing pervert!" Tsukiko pronounces. Actually, that's you, and Tsukiko's not the only girl here going commando due to your depredations, but it's still offensive. "You're nothing but a poor little slut who can't even afford her own underwear! And I've got a mind to show everyone!"

Acting as one, the students clear a path for her to advance upon Mei.

They know whichever way this turns out, they're in for a show.

"I get why you're upset," says Mei without looking up from her plate. "It must be expensive to look as cheap as you do."

She takes another bite. It's fruit salad, jelly and custard. The school does surprisingly extravagant desserts.

"I didn't steal your clothes," she says, "because I can get people to like me without dressing like a slut. Nice nipples, Tsukiko. I know how you're a whore for attention. Sure you aren't showing off on purpose?"

You're so proud of her you could burst.

Tsukiko's white with anger. She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, a fistful of jelly and custard hits her smack in the face.

Astonished, she swallows a strawberry. Another dessert gets her between the shoulderblades.

You don't even have to throw the third one. Some boy with a keen eye gets her right in the cleavage.

Tsukiko's too stunned to move. She's used to respect. Instead she stands in the middle of the cafeteria, naked beneath a tight dress, while people bombard her from all sides with jelly, cream and custard. They're pointing and laughing! At her! Tsukiko! And her dress is quite ruined!

She does the only thing she can do in the circumstances, which is to shout "Bitch!" and charge.

Mei, prepared, recieves her tackle, and down they go onto the floor for round two. People don't stop throwing food. Mei's all sticky now and her panties are flashing beneath her skirt, but that's not as interesting as what's revealed when Tsukiko's skirt flies up. She shrieks as Mei grabs the hair between her legs and gives it a pull.

"Eeeh! Stop looking!"

Over the PA system comes an announcement in an unidentifiable voice. "All students to the cafeteria! Food fight in progress! Repeat! Food fight in progress!"

You're able to alert Mei to Ms. Oshiro's progress, so that when she enters the room, accompanied by a bevy of curious students and a certain mostly-clothed miko, Tsukiko had Mei on the floor and is rubbing jelly into her hair.

"I'll twist your nipples until you squeal, you conniving bitch!" Tsukiko screams. "I'll dip you in honey and let all the boys lick it off your tits! I'll spank your little ass raw and glue it to a window - oh, hi, Ms. Oshiro, didn't see you there."

She smiles guiltily. Ms. Oshiro's face is thunder.

"What. Happened. Here."

"Mei stole my clothes!" Tsukiko says very quickly. "She made me wear this ridiculous dress and then she attacked, me, look! And then she organized all her friends to throw food at me! How horrible! She really ought to be punished, Miss."

She looks briefly hopeful. Her face falls as Ms. Oshiro shakes her head, once, very slowly.

"Is that what happened, students?" she asks. "Speak up."

Not one person responds.

"Please," Tsukiko begs, "please! Tell her what happened!" Her pleas fall on deaf ears. Every face she looks at is smiling, and she knows they're not laughing with her.

"Tsukiko," Ms. Oshiro sighs, "you've terrorized Mei for long enough. I don't care how much money your father donates to us. Your wickedness ends here. I sentence you..."

Tsukiko gets butterflies in her stomach.

"...sentence you..."

You crane closer to hear.

"...to write a one-thousand-word essay explaining the error of your ways."

Tsukiko is perplexed.

"That's all?"

"Isn't it punishment enough?"

"Yes, yes. But I'm free to go?"

"Do you really think I'd keep you here? In that state? How wildly unprofessional would I have to be?"

"Well, then," says Tsukiko," sidling towards the door. "I'll just - "

Oh, no, no, no. This won't do at all.

Hovering just behind Ms. Oshiro, you do a thing you haven't done before. You slip forward, into her head.

It's strange in there. You can see all her thoughts racing around. She keeps the naughty ones locked in a box deep in her subconscious.

You try to take control, to possess her, but it's too hard. You can't overcome her will. So instead you unlatch the trapdoor and let a single naughty thought slip free.

"Wait!" commands Ms. Oshiro, stepping forward. "Maybe that's not enough after all."

Tsukiko's face is a picture of shock as Ms. Oshiro grabs her upper arm.

"But you said-"

"I know what I said," snaps Ms. Oshiro. "But I've changed my mind. A more severe punishment is called for."

Tsukiko only seriously begins to struggle as Ms. Oshiro bends her over a table. Her loose hair, matted with cream, falls around her face. Her pretty lips purse with fright as she stares directly into the lens of Mei's cameraphone.

"Please - I'll tell my daddy - let me go!"

"Your daddy said to me just the other day that he thought your were getting spoilt," says Ms. Oshiro. "How right he was. I'll give you a lesson you won't soon forget."

And she flips up the back of Tsukiko's dress.

Tskiko can feel a hundred eyes on her bottom. Mei's smirk is the capstone on her humiliation.

Ms. Oshiro seizes her writhing wrists in one hand and, with the other, delivers the first of what will prove to be many, many sharp smacks.

On the tenth blow one of Tsukiko's flailing feet hits Katashi in the face and knocks him cold. No-one notices.

Mei squats in front of her.

"Are you crying, Tsukiko?"

"N-no..."

"Really? I can see tears!"

The PA obligingly informs the student body that Tsukiko is in the cafeteria having her little bottom spanked until she cries.

It is at this point that Mariko decides to act. She pushes forward, through the crowd of students all trying to get snapshots between Tsukiko's legs without getting caught by her wide, hysterical kicks. When Ms. Oshiro raises her hand for Tsukiko's ceremonial, extra-hard hundredth spank, Mariko is there to grab her wrist.

"Enough is enough! This is obviously the work of the ghost and I'll no longer stomach it!"

"Thank you," whimpers Tsukiko, then blushes as Mei gleefully shows her a cellphone with a picture of her pussy as the wallpaper.

"Good girl," you whisper into Mei's ear. "Let's make her squirm." She shivers all over with pleasure and stoops to whisper something to Tsukiko. You can't hear what it is but from the way the oujousama's squirming you guess it's a succession of exceedingly lewd promises as to her eventual fate.

She bucks and moans as you take a couple of fingers and begin to explore her private parts. No-one except Mei suspects she's being stimulated - they just think she's enjoying being spanked.

Meanwhile, you keep an eye on Mariko.

"I think the ghost is affecting your mind!"

Ms. Oshiro's scorn is withering.

"And just why should I believe that?"

Mariko hesitates. She knows she's playing with fire here. One false step and the film of her public spanking will do the rounds of the temple acolytes for years to come. Still, she can't back down.

"Think about it," she says. "You know perfectly well it's a violation of school policy to spank your students in public. Let alone to strip them naked! Highly unprofessional."

"Hey! She's right!" shouts Tsukiko. Ms. Oshiro gives her several firm smacks to shut her up. She still looks unconvinced. Mariko perseveres.

"If there is a ghost, and he's embarrassing girls, wouldn't this be the perfect way to do it? Steal Tsukiko's clothes and trick her into getting punished?"

Ms. Oshiro pauses mid-smack. The part of her that's a sensible, efficient, responsible admnistrator is at war with the part of her that wants to see this insolent slut clean the floor with her tongue.

It's up to you to tip that balance.

"Watch this," Mei whispers into Tsukiko's ear. "I'm going to get you in so much trouble."

Tsukiko opens her mouth to protest and you silence her with two fingers as Mei screws up face, affecting tears, and approaches Ms. Oshiro.

"Please, Miss," she chokes convincingly. "Tsukiko's made my life hell since the day we've met, and I'm not the only one. She likes nothing more than to humiliate people, preferably sexually, and she's been getting away for it for years. You're the first person I've ever known to stand up for her. Are you really going to throw that away just because some slutty miko, who's probably on Tsukiko's payroll, comes running to you with some crackpot theory about a ghost?"

The round of applause that greets this speech is heartwarming. Tsukiko glowers, but you don't let her get a word in. Ms. Oshiro looks thoughtful.

"Well said," she says."You really have courage, Mei, don't you?"

"My little avenger," you whisper, hugging her from behind. Mei practically purrs.

"Well, I've decided," says Ms. Oshiro. "Tsukiko, you are going to act as Mei's servant for the rest of the week. Disobey even a single order and I'll have you expelled. Do you understand?"

What comes out of Tsukiko's mouth is an incoherent moan as you pleasure her in half a dozen spots simultaneously. Her little bottom wiggles, causing a ripple of laughter throughout the crowd.

"I'll take that as a yes," says Ms. Oshiro, her mouth twitching wryly. "God, you really are a little slut, aren't you, Tsukiko? Mei, since she's obviously eager to have her bottom smacked, I give you permission to punish her further."

"With pleasure, Miss!" says Mei, her eyes aflame. Where Ms. Oshiro's smacks were hard and flat, Mei's are pointed and vicious. Tsukiko whimpers as they sting her bottom and inner thighs.

"But why should I have all the fun?" asks Mei, to cheering. "Form a line, guys."

"And as for you," says Ms. Oshiro, rounding on the speechless Mariko, "here's what I have in mind..."

Mei sets the rules - one smack for boys, two for girls. People who get in more than their fair share have to drop trou or raise skirt and take five themselves, which doesn't stop a few of them. There's something of a party atmosphere, though Tsukiko doesn't seem to be sharing it. Her bottom's almost as bright as Mei's smile.

Surrounded by inquisitive eyes, Mariko nervously pulls her blouse over her head. Her nipples come briefly into view before she covers them with a forearm. They're obviously hard, observes a student, and wet, as if somebody's been sucking on them. What a dirty miko. Obviously loves it.

She stands topless and trembling, trying not to make noises of pleasure as you tenderly trace her shoulderblades and the curve of her spine. In other circumstances it would be a lovely massage.

Ms. Oshiro makes her reach for the shirt with both hands. It only just covers her bottom, and it's missing the lowest button.Once her skirt's off she stands with her hands folded over her crotch, aware that if she bends over she'll be as exposed as Tsukiko.

"Are you in shape, miko?" asks Ms. Oshiro politely. "I hope so. If you aren't this may be tiring."

Tsukiko kicks, wails, sobs and begs for her ordeal to end. Finally it does.Mei concludes the torment with twenty firm strikes of a ruler and messes up Tsukiko's carefully-crafted hairstyle with two hands and bucket of custard, just for laughs.

The two girls, each nude beneath a garment designed to threaten exposure at any moment, are led by the hand to the door. Tsukiko's a bedraggled, sticky mess. Mariko's nipples poke proudly through her shirt. They exchange fearful glances.

A gust of wind exposes both pussies at once. Their shrieks are identical.

You like the effect, so as the girls make the walk of shame to the track you make the same gusts play about their thighs. One free hand each can't stop the curious crowd following them from having plenty of chances to scope out two lovely bottoms.

Tsukiko stands in the centre of a circle of students, teeth gritted, eyes screwed tight shut. She jumps as the first blast of ice-cold water hits her in the chest, dragging down one strap of the little dress and revealing most of a nicely-formed breast. Mei, wielding the hose, is on top of the world. "God, I love this," she murmurs, seeing if she can blast Tsukiko's dress completely off the shoulder so that it'll fall down around her ankles. (She can.) "So do I," you whisper, squeezing her hand. "Blast her pussy. She'll hate that."

Mei is already panting by her second lap. Her legs are flashing and she knows her pussy's peeping through but there's nothing she can do about it, not while running at the same time. Ms. Oshiro's urging her on like a demented gym mistress. "Faster, Mariko! Only twenty-four to go!" She's dripping with sweat, the white shirt clinging to her body like a second skin, and some of the students have formed an impromptu cheerleader squad. She can't slow down, though, for the very simple reason that every time she does you smack her ass raw and tell her she's not trying hard enough.

Tsukiko and Mei are playing a little game called Answer this Maths Question Correctly And I Won't Spray You With Cold Water Until You Apologize. Tsukiko's losing. Badly.

On the fifth lap Ms. Oshiro fills a bowl with water and kindly allows Mariko to lap it up like a dog, her little ass wiggling in the air as she does so.

As she makes Tsukiko do a little dance, you whisper something into Mei's ear. She smiles. The hose stops.

"You know I'm pretty dirty as well," she says sweetly. "Perhaps it's your turn to clean me, Tsukiko." Foolishly, Tsukiko's eyes light up. Mei smiles.

"With your tongue. Start from the feet and move up."

Tsukiko doesn't have the energy to respond with anything but a defeated "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mistress Mei."

Katashi opens his eyes.

He's lying on the floor of the completely empty cafeteria. His memories of the last half our or so are fuzzy. He feels as if something really amazing happened, but it's all indistinct, like a beautiful, fading dream.

His head hurts. He sits up and bangs it against the desk he's lying under.

While he's lying there contemplating his fate, some noises attract his attention. Two girls are standing beside the desk, oblivious to his presence. He strains to hear what's going on.

"I can't believe Ms. Oshiro let her do that to Tsukiko in front of everyone!"

"I never liked that bitch."

"Me neither, but all that power's going to Mei's head. We could easily be next."

"Well, if all goes to plan she'll learn a little lesson in humility."

"I knew that stagehand position wouldn't go to waste. You know the drill?"

"Tell her Ms. Oshiro wants her to model a new uniform for tomorrow's assembly. She'll agree to everything if you make her think she's special. I'll give her the clothes and at the right time - "

"I'll pull the strings. This is going to be so great!"

Katashi suppresses a gasp of shock.

"What was that sound?"

"Oh my god, a boy!"

"Is he looking up our skirts? Let's get him!"

You leave Katashi to his fate and wander back to check on Mariko. She's halfway through her laps and nothing she tries can stop her shirt from riding up around her waist, rendering her essentially pantsless.

Tsukiko is performing a series of stretches. You goose her in passing, then smile as you realize what's going on.

"Great work, Mei. I love how good you are at this."

"Well, I thought, why should Mariko be the only one to get a little healthy exercise? Knees up, Tsukiko! You want to be limber for the race!"

Mariko and Tsukiko kneel obediently on the starting blocks, granting an interesting view to the students lining the tracks behind them. You're not sure who you'd bet on. Mariko's tired from having run so many laps already, but Mei made Tsukiko do jumping jacks to balance it out, and the oujousama's probably less fit that the miko.

You spy a thread trailing from the hem of Tsukiko's dress and pass it to her, sharing a giggle.She's standing officiously over the kneelers, wielding the starting gun.

Look at them," you whisper, kissing her neck. "Their little asses hang out of their dresses. Everyone's going to see their tits bouncing."

"I wouldn't want to be one of them" she chuckled. From the dirty look Tsukiko gives her you suspect she's overheard, and that Mei doesn't care. "Imagine knowing that everyone can see your pussy and that you can't do anything to stop them. How embarrassing! Id' hate to be naked and on display like that."

Tsukiko looks sulky. Mei pokes out her tongue at her.

"Speaking of which," you say, eliciting a purr of delight as you stroke her hip, "you should know what Ayumi and Hanako are planning for you..."

Mei nods thoughtfully.

"I don't know if we should put one of them in the special uniform or Tsukiko," she says. "Either way they both have to wind up naked on stage, of course."

"Of course."

"I'll think about. Right now I have a race to organize." She gives Tsukiko a friendly kick. "Ready, runners? Remember, loser pays a forfeit!"

Tsukiko only gets about five yards before there's a terrible ripping and half her dress tangles around her calves. You had hoped for a slow unravelling, but this is good too. Mariko's running as fast as her little legs can carry her.

No-one notices Ayumi and Hanako sneaking out a side door.

"That was weird. What are the chances of both our panties falling down at the same time?"

"Stroke of luck for that Katashi kid, though."

"Yeah. No point beating up a guy who's already re-passed out."

"Hey, Mei," you say. "I've got an idea for a forfeit."

Mei almost doubles over as you slide two fingers inside her. Fortunately, no-one seems to notice her face flush and her eyes roll back in her head.You start to explain the loser's punishment to her in graphic detail.

Tsukiko's half-running, half-hopping, half-trying to untangle her feet from the remnants of the dress. The tears are exposing her in tantalizing, unpredictable ways. Finally she gives up, rips the whole thing in half - a bright blush spreading across her face - and sprints after Mariko, naked below the waist. People cheer. Mei's moan as you lick her earlobe is lost in the noise of the crowd.

Mariko's ahead, but she's tired and beginning to flag. As she zooms by Mei you undo the top three buttons of her blouse and watch her lose momentum as she struggles to contain her escaping tits.The next lap you yank her shirt down around her belly button so she's jogging topless. Mei's own nipples are hard as pebbles and you provoke them mercilessly.

Tsukiko would probably have won if she hadn't insisted on running with both hands between her legs. As it is, Mariko beats her by a hair. You get your hand over Mei's mouth in time to stop her scream - you engineered events so she'd come explosively just as the race ended.

All eyes turn to Mei, who can just muster up the energy to speak. Mariko is eyeing her suspiciously.

"I, um..." she manages to stutter. "Tsukiko looks all sweaty. I think she should take a shower."

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Tsukiko thinks.

"With all the boys!"

"I want you to understand something," announces Tsukiko, standing in the boys' locker room, surrounded by grinning dudes, wearing only a towel. "This doesn't mean anything. I'm still worth more than all of you put together and when I get out of here you'll know about it!"

Mei's leaning against a wall, amused by her posturing.

"You'll pay for this indignity - eep, no, I'm naked, give it back!"

Mei holds the towel just out of her reach and herds her into the shower. She eyes the boys appreciatively as they strip off and file in after her.

You hear the sounds of Tsukiko's outraged, though not too outraged, dignity. Mei provides color commentary.

"You guys are happy to see me, aren't you? Um. Hey, this water's nice."

"Lather her up, boys!"

"Ah! Don't touch me there! Katashi, how did you get in here?"

"That's the way. Every part of her slick with foam, and don't be afraid to give her a squeeze!"

"No! Don't squeeze me!"

"Squeeze squeeze squeeze!"

"Aah! Not there! Ouch!"

"Guys, did you know it's lucky to spank a wet bottom?"

"No it isn't!"

"Hurts more, too. Don't forget to pinch!"

"Owwwwww!"

"That's enough. Back to lathering and squeezing."

You drift outside to check on Mariko, and interrupt her in the middle of a whispered conversation with Ayumi and Hanako. They scurry off as you approach.

You goose her in greeting.

"That could be you in there showering with all the boys," you say. "Wish you'd thrown the race? Could've spared Tsukiko, you selfish little slut."

You give her a kiss.

"Still, nothing compared to the fun we'll be having tonight."

"Got your outfit back, I see. Pity. I liked you bottomless."

"That shirt was unbefitting of my dignity as a miko."

"Whereas this does." You give the skirt a playful tug. "We'll have to do something about that. How do you feel about having no dignity whatsoever?"

"You wouldn't dare."

The back of her blouse tears open of its own accord. A cool breeze blows down her spine, provoking a shiver.

"You know perfectly well I would."

The bottom half of her blouse's front tears half-off, dangling by a thread, exposing tremendous underboob and hinting at areola. You widen the sleeve gaps for good measure. It's now less garment than rag.

"Do your worst. You can't possibly embarrass me more than you already have."

"No?" you ask, pulling her skirt down around her ankles. She squeals and squirms as she bends to retrieve it, but you're holding it quite still.

"So you don't mind at all that you're pantsless in public?"

"Give it back!"

"Not until you admit you're embarrassed."

"I'm fine!"

"Good to hear it. I'll tell Ms. Oshiro you want to spend the rest of the day refreshingly nude."

"Wait, it's embarrassing, it is, give it back!"

"Say please."

"No!"

Her skirt must have gotten caught on a rock or something, because when she pulls it up there's a tearing sound and most of it comes clean off. She regards her new miniskirt with dismay.

"Good girls say please and thank you."

"Uhh..."

You giver her skirt a slit up the side, showing some thigh.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome. Now why don't you tell me what's happening with Ayumi and Hanako?"

"Ayumi and Hanako?" She's a terrible liar. "They, uh, just wanted tell me they were going to punish me, but they changed my mind after they saw me run because they thought I'd been punished enough."

You slit the other side of her skirt. It's now barely a loincloth.

"It's true, I swear!" She looks guilty.

"You know Tsukiko's being punished right now," you say. "It's all your fault, Mariko. You could have saved her but you wanted to make her shower with the boys, didn't you? You're thinking about her all warm and wet getting cleaned up by the boys, getting her hair shampooed, her breasts squeezed. Her face all red as they soap up her private parts and comb out her curls. Knowing every time she passes one of those boys in the halls he's going to think of the exact face she made when he flicked her bottom with a damp towel. You like that, don't you? You're a little sadist. You get off on punishing innocent girls."

Mariko's own face is very red. "I don't... I didn't..."

You rip a patch out of her skirt so her bottom shows through. Someone behind her stifles a giggle.

"You're a terrible person and you deserve a taste of your own medicine," you say, making a second hole to match the first. "Public embarrassment's too good for you. They should throw you into jail for perverts and spank you every day of your life."

You plant a quick, unexpected kiss on her cheek.

"But I can be merciful. Tell me what you were talking about with Ayumi and Hanako and maybe I'll let you cower in private for the rest of the day."

Mariko's clearly dying to hide but she tightens her lips and mutely shakes her head.

You sigh audibly as you tear a horizontal slit in the front of her dress.

"Every time a boy glimpses your pussy today, Mariko, remember it's because you were naughty."

You give her head a friendly pat.

"Now back to class! We've still got a couple hours of school left, Mariko, and I have to decide who to spend that time tormenting."

In the scrap of her once-proud miko uniform she looks very undignified indeed.

You're torn. On the one hand, you want to figure out what Ayumi and Hanako are up to. On the other hand, you should keep an eye on Mariko so she doesn't get up to any shenanigans. You could enlist Mei, but you don't want the bullies to get her alone, and anyway she and Tsukiko seem to be having fun. You need someone else to help. But who?

"Hi, Katashi. My name's Mariko. Would you like to-" She falters, and you give her a prod. "-play some board games?"

Katashi stares aghast at the scowling, blushing girl clad only in rags, who seems to be fidgeting uncontrollably. "A-are you sure? Girls don't usually talk to me."

"Well, I really like board games, Katashi, and if you play with me - hey, I can't do that!" She cries out all of a sudden, as if disciplined by an invisible hand. "Every time you win I'll pay a forfeit."

"What kind of forfeit?"

"A-anything you want." Her mouth opens and closes soundlessly, as if her dignity is being silently outraged. "I-I'm a dirty girl and I like paying forfeits..."

With Mariko suitably distracted, you are free to follow around Ayumi and Hanako, who you soon discover have snuck off to the mall. They are browsing through what appears to be a gift shop.

"Chalk, incense, calligraphy ink - why does she want this stuff?"

"To bind this ghost, perhaps?"

"She said something about a summoning. Isn't that the opposite?"

"I guess. What could she be summoning, though? How is that her job?"

Good questions, both of them.

The cashier waits patiently as Ayumi and Hanako pat at their pockets.

"What the hell? I could swear I just had my wallet!"

"Me too! Where's it gone?"

"Well, this stuff isn't free." The cashier shrugs. "Unless... we could come to some arrangement?"

"Get lost, creep." Ayumi and Hanako exchange glances. Then, acting as one, they bolt, grabbing the stuff and making for the door.

"I just meant I'd hold it for you while you looked for your wallets!" hollers the cashier after them. "Security!"

It's clear that the two bullies are also experienced shoplifters. They know the exits and they'd probably get away with it, was it not for your timely interference.

Hanako's faster. As Ayumi lags behind, something white with red lovehearts tangles around her ankles, causing her to stumble. It's her panties. She has just deduced this horrifying fact when a shove between her shoulderblades sends her careening across the food court to land face-down in a fountain, bent over the rim with her skirt rucked up around her waist, her full bottom nicely displayed.

Hanako doesn't spare her a second glance.

Ayumi's only just floundered her way upright when a hand in the small of her back shoves her down again, giving her a second faceful of water. The policewoman's not happy. She spent all morning handcuffed to a gargoyle, tourists taking pictures, the cold spray soaking her new lingerie and causing her panties to slowly slip down over the course of a couple of hours, and now that she's finally been rescued some tart comes along and knocks her coffee all over her clean clothes? This is simply unacceptable.

It is not strictly legal to firmly spank a shoplifter in the middle of a crowded mall, but somehow the policewoman never recieved any official condemnation for it.

You had planned to sabotage Hanako's car, but of course you don't have to. Her keys were in her wallet. As she kicks the wheel, cursing, footsteps approach from behind. "Ma''am? We'd like you to come with us."

As Hanako is frogmarched through the mall, trying not to meet anyone's eyes, it is child's play to mess with her.

You tuck her skirt into the back of her underpants, glorying in her inability to fix it. Two burly security guards are holding her arms and she doesn't seem especially keen to draw their attention to the fact. Her panties are white and yellow stripes. You tug on the waistband, giving her a wedgie and exposing too much of her behind. Then you undo her bra and every second button of her blouse.

Her walk of shame takes her halfway around the mall. Housewives regard her judgmentally. You're not sure whether she's more embarrassed about being lewdly dressed or getting caught shoplifting.

Finally she is allowed into the relative sanctuary of the security office, where Ayumi glares daggers at her. She is soaking wet and rubbing her bottom. The policewoman seems to think this is all very funny.

The cashier sits on the desk, his legs kicking. Beside him are two plastic bags.

"Mr. Ito here has agreed not to press charges," says the policewoman, "on one condition."

He upends the bags. They seem to contain tangled strips of cloth, two confections of silk, lace and spandex.

"Mr. Ito also sells cosplay outfits," says the policewoman. "You will spend every afternoon for the next two weeks standing outside his shop, modelling them."

Ayumi and Hanako exchange poisonous glances.

"Please leave so the girls can change."

"Are you leaving too?"

"No. No, I am not."

Ayumi's bigger so her costume is smaller. A high-cut red thong, a pink silk vest made for someone half her cup size, a useless pair of fairy wings. Hanako's a maid in a dress cut low enough to let her nipples escape and panties that are dragged down by the weight of all the frills. Both have cat ears. The policewoman insists there hasn't been a mix-up.

Soon they're dancing to J-pop outside Mr. Ito's store, drawing a curious crowd, silently cursing that stupid miko.

When you return to the games room Mariko is standing in the corner, her skirt rucked up around her waist to expose her ruby-red bottom. Katashi's nowhere to be seen.

"Corner time, hmmm?"

"He gave me half an hour," she mutters through clenched teeth, "while he went to round up his friends. Does he even have any friends?"

"He will soon," you say. "How's the summoning going?"

"What summoning?"

You give her tender behind a cruel pinch.

"It may interest you to know that Ayumi and Hanako failed in their little errand," you say. "Hope you didn't need that stuff."

"Doesn't matter. I - aagh! - can still complete the ritual."

"Can you?"

"I - nngh - have to try."

"You wouldn't mind telling me exactly what the ritual is?"

"There's nothing you can do that's bad enough to make me talk."

"Perhaps," you say, tickling the backs of her knees. "But we're going to spend the evening trying. Want to hear what I have planned for tonight's festivities?"

"Hey, Mariko. Got a little present for you."

School's out for the day. Katashi's gone home, leaving the miko cowering in the games room, afraid to sneak outside in her barely-there outfit.

You drop two bits of cloth on the floor in front of her.

"How long's it been since you wore underwear?"

Mariko hesitates, perhaps worried that you've somehow sabotaged the lacy black bra and panties. "Where did you get these?"

"Ms. Oshiro keeps a change of clothes at school," you say. "Should fit you well enough."

You pile up more clothes - stockings, heels, a white shirt, a charcoal jacket and slim pencil skirt. Still Mariko holds back. "It's not that I don't appreciate this but - why? Wouldn't you rather keep me naked?"

"Tonight you deserve a break," you lie through your ghost teeth.

"I'm still not sure - we aren't really allowed to wear, um, underwear - "

"Oh, I get it. You're afraid you'll dampen Ms. Oshiro's panties."

"No! What?"

"Get all hot and bothered thinking about the boys touching Tsukiko, Ayumi and Hanako tricked into mortifying costumes - "

"Wait, is that happening?"

"Sometimes I forget how much of a slut you are, Mariko," you say, nuzzling her neck. "If I led you down the street in just your panties and a dog collar you're have soaked through them before we got three blocks."

"That's a lie!"

"Then why are you touching yourself?"

Guiltily she snatches her hand away from her inner thigh.

"Would you like to cum, Mariko?" you say, stroking the lips of her pussy with excruciating gentleness. Her face is a picture of misery. "Shall I make you cum right now, you dirty girl?"

"N-no-"

"Then I won't," you say, snatching your hand away just before she reaches climax. "Get dressed. We're going out for the evening."

Chikako glances up as the bell rings. "Hey, Mariko," she says cheerfully. "Cute outfit."

Mariko scratches the back of her neck, self-conscious. In Ms. Oshiro's spare clothes she looks every bit the respectable office worker, and they're only a very little bit too tight.

"So what can I do for you?"

"Uh, I'm not sure yet," says Mariko. "Maybe just a packet of-" Her face scrunches up as she listens to unheard directions. "Oh, no, no. I can't do that here!"

"I don't mind." Chikako's all innocence. "Who're you talking to?"

"I'll get thrown out!"

"No you won't."

"Shut up!" Mariko casts a panicked look in her direction. "Not you, I mean - nobody! Just talking to myself. And now I'm going to leave - "

There is the sound of something very hard and firm impacting Mariko's backside. She bites her lip and looks helplessly at Chikako, who is grinning from ear to ear.

"Listen," she says, "I have to, uh. Please don't ask why I'm doing this."

"I really don't care."

"And would you mind turning the security cameras off?"

"Sorry, but they're vital to, you know, security."

"Can you at least look away?"

"Not a chance."

Over the radio tinny J-pop starts playing all by itself.

Slowly, Mariko begins to gyrate.

She's an okay dancer, though "sexy" is not her forte. Her attempts to wiggle her hips make Chikako giggle. The cameras are getting her from four angles at once.

She undoes the top button of her jacket, then the second, before getting to work on her blouse. Chikako's leaning over the counter, head in hands, staring at the hint of cleavage this reveals. Mariko turns away to hide and comes face to face with a startled young couple who've just walked in, the sound of their entrance muffled by the radio.

Of course she's not allowed to stop. She puts her hands up and begins awkwardly to undulate, conscious of two pairs of eyes on her tits. The pair, too polite to say anything, sidle around her with muttered apologies and begin picking through the magazines.

Nervously Mariko slides her jacket down her arms. It lands on the floor beside the young couple, who quickly creep aside. Chikako is doubled over with silent laughter.

It takes her an age to summon the courage to doff her skirt. You don't rush her. She has to do it eventually, and it's fun to watch her put it off as long as possible.

It's so tight she has trouble getting it down. It's binding her knees, leaving her in an unbuttoned blouse and pantyhose, when the door chimes again and three students walk in. They catch sight of Mariko and immediately form a huddle of whispered gossip. You catch the word "pervert". Judging from her expression, so does Mariko.

You whisper instructions. Her face clouds over, but she turns away and begins begrudgingly to wiggle her bottom in their direction. One of the bolder students runs up and slips a hundred-yen note down the crack of her ass.

Her blouse comes off next, leaving her in her bra and pantyhose. Chikako snatches it up. She reluctantly bends over to cup her boobs in her hands and make an exhibition of her now-substantial cleavage. The students applaud politely. When she straightens up another banknote is tucked down the front of her panties, this time by the boyfriend of the young couple. His girlfriend glares at him and drags him out.

An old man enters just in time to see Mariko remove her bra, lock her hands behind her head and shake her naked breasts. He does a double take and then shrugs, pondering the delinquency of youth. He buys a newspaper and wanders out again.

Mariko peels her stockings off her toes and stands panting in her tiny black cash-stuffed G-string. One of the students takes a picture on his phone.

She's in no fit state to resist being led outside to where there is a lamppost.

The passengers at the bus station across the street are treated to a lengthy telekinesis-assisted pole dance. The cold metal slides between Mariko's thighs as she spins around, wishing she wasn't upside-down.

"Hi," says Mariko," burning with shame. "I'm a pervert exhibitionist who likes to be publicly embarrassed. Could you bring these to the school in two hours, please? And if I'm not there you can keep them."

"Figured as much," says Chikako, accepting the clothes. "Have fun running around nude, weirdo."

Mariko scurries from the store as fast as her little legs can carry her, laughter ringing in her ears. She clasps one hand over her breasts, the other between her thighs, and starts to jog down the mostly-abandoned streets, following directions you've given her.

"Here's the deal," you say, as she comes to a stop at the gates to a wide public park. Lined with classical gardens and cherry-blossom trees, it's a wonderful place to relax. "You're going to streak across the park, then back to the school. If you're there in time you keep the clothes. If not it's back into the miko costume tomorrow. Whenever anyone catches you, and you will be caught, you have to explain that you're a pervert and ask them for a dare before you can proceed."

"What if they dare me to run all the way back here?"

"Then you won't enjoy tomorrow. Any other questions?"

"It's late. The park should be empty, right?"

"Sure," you say. "That's why I picked it. Off you go now! And if you stop to play with yourself on the way I shall be very cross."

As her footsteps retreat into the darkness you wonder if you should tell her that the fireworks display will be starting in ten minutes, and that the park will be packed with spectators. Nah. She'll work it out.

You're also wondering what dares she might have to do, and what adjustments that naughty Chikako might make to her brand new clothes.

Mariko creeps through the bushes, her skin prickling in the cool night air. This isn't so bad, she thinks. The park's abandoned and not that wide, I'll easily be back in time to get my clothes off Chikako.

She freezes. There are noises up ahead. Soft, warm, inviting noises...

There's a couple lying beneath a tree, giggling. The woman's blouse is rucked up, revealing her small breasts, and the man's tongue is flicking across her nipple, eliciting moans of delight. Mariko is aware that her heart is pounding and her face feels very warm. She's been constantly on edge for days, titillated to within an inch of her life just so her tormentor could have the pleasure of denying her, and though she'd never admit it to anyone she kind of has a thing for spying on people.

Unbidden, her hand creeps down between her legs. It feels better than anything else in the world. Just one, she prays, just a little one...

There's a loud bang overhead.

The lovemaking couple look up to see Mariko, illuminated in the light of the fireworks, caught red-faced and red-handed.

The woman shrieks and pulls her shirt down over her breasts. Mariko doesn't say anything, too petrified even to cover herself.

"Eek! Ishi, a pervert!"

"Calm down," says Ishi, tugging his pants all the way up. "I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this."

Mariko wants so badly to find a way out of this situation, but she's aware of the rules.

"No," she says, "there isn't. I'm a naked pervert. Now you've caught me I have to do anything you want."

Ishi hesitates. His girlfriend's face lights up.

"Anything, eh?"

"Yosano, I don't know that we should encourage this kind of behaviour."

"Do some jumping jacks."

Obediently, Mariko begins to perform the breast-bouncing, leg-spreading leaps. Yosano licks her lips.

"Shy little slut, aren't you?" she says. "Come back to the picnic with us."

"One dare per person!" says Mariko quickly. "Sorry, I don't make the rules."

"Fine," says Yosano. "Ishi? You're up to bat."

Ishi is blushing himself. "I don't know that we should be helping some perverted stranger get off."

"Such a coward," Yosano says scornfully. "Live a little, Ishi. She'll have fun, you'll have fun, everyone else will have fun."

"Still-"

Mariko silently pleads with Ishi not to say yes, making her eyes as big and wide as they can go. Please don't punish me, they seem to beg.

Of course, this makes punishing her irresistible.

"Fine. Come with us - what's your name?"

"Mariko Ishihara. I'm a miko up at the temple."

You didn't say she had to give her full name to anyone who asks, and as the panic clears she realizes that it probably wasn't obligatory. Too late now!

"Come along, Mariko Ishihara," grins Yosano. "Our friends are going to love you."

There's eight or nine of them laid out on the lawn enjoying the show. They have a number of questions which Mariko answers to the best of her ability, dwelling on how much of a pervert she is and how she craves public humiliation. Her discomfort is evident and overpowering but Yosano's very compelling and she manages to persuade everyone it's part of the fun.

"So," she says. "Eight dares for Mariko. Who wants to go first?"

One of the girls raises her hand. "I think she should crawl to that tree and back."

"Uh, is this going to take long? I get punished if I'm not back on time."

"Then you're going to get punished, freak." Yosano gives her bottom a slap. "Get crawling!"

The crawl isn't so bad. Having to act as a picnic table, bearing seven cups of soda on her back and ferrying them from person to person, is worse, especially when the boys start tickling her ribs. As penance for spilling she has to give everyone a kiss on the lips before she rises - on a dare, one of the girls slips her some tongue, then begins to make out with her in earnest while the others cheer her on. They empty the soda bottle over her head and allow her to stand, but only to lay out dinner.

Sticky and embarrassingly aroused, a state of affairs that she desperately wishes would just disappear, she obediently lays out the food, then waits on everyone hand and foot while they dine, fetching drinks from the cooler and and-feeding people choice morsels. She's acutely aware of the way time is ticking away, time she doesn't have. Midway through Yosano stops everything to fetch some accessories from her bag - big, floppy bunny ears, a jangly bell on a cat collar, elbow-length gloves in red and yellow and knee socks in green and blue, all of which she'd bought on a whim today from some cosplay store which apparently had excellent marketing. The bell jingles as she does bunny hops and the ears refuse to come off when she cartwheels. Everyone assures Mariko that she looks adorable, though they're laughing when they say it.

"Put your elbows behind your back," says someone. She sticks out her boobs, secretly fuming, and doesn't realize until too late that someone's slipped round the back to bind them.They follow up by tying her knees so she's forced to waddle absurdly, like a penguin, her little bell jingling to alert everyone that her comes a nude girl in a silly costume.

"Seems like a great way to punish a perv," says Yosano, getting a shot of Mariko in her ridiculous knock-kneed posture. (Little does the miko know she's already got a dedicated fan-site.) "But we're not mean. We'll even feed you, see?"

And she places a slice of banana cream cake on the ground.

Mariko kneels awkwardly, her shaven pussy visible between her legs, and gets to chewing. Soon her cheeks, lips and nose are slathered with banana cream. It tastes wonderful.

It's not until halfway through that she realizes Ishi's filming her. 'Sticky Bunny' is going in his portfolio.

There are three slices of cake left and by the time she's down there's somehow even cream on her breasts but she rises, proud. "That's it! Eight dares! Can I go now? I have half an hour to get home."

Yosano comes in close and Mariko doesn't realize until too late it's for a sensual goodbye kiss.

"Sure," she says, licking cream off her upper lip - Mariko's upper lip, that is. "See you round, pervert. I know where to find you."

"Um - are you going to untie me?"

"Nope."

"But with my legs bound I'll never make it home in time!"

"Not my problem."

Mariko is aware of how pathetic she must look, shivering in the field and dressed like a clown. She hates the wheedling tone in her voice. "C'mon! Pleeeeeeease!"

"Look, I'll tell you what," sighs Yosano. "I won't untie you but I'll give you a shortcut. Head that way through the trees and you'll be across the park in no time, assuming no-one hears you jingling and decides to smack your little pervert bottom for you."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much! Um, see you around, I guess." Never again, with any luck, thinks Mariko, turning and shuffling away. She can feel eyes burning her bottom as it wiggles out of view.

When she emerges from the stand of trees she can see the park's exit, distant across a wide expanse of grass which provides an excellent view of the fireworks. This must be why so many picnickers have chosen to congregate there.

There's no time left to go around.

She swallows her pride and begins the world's slowest streak.The park's broader than she thought, and her bell jangles the whole way across. People seem to be assuming she's part of the show.

"Two seconds to spare," says Chikako, waiting at the school gate tapping her watch. "Gosh, what are you wearing? I can see everything, and you can't cover up at all!"

"Shut up," grouses Mariko.

"Did you walk down the street in that? Must've been awful!"

"Just give me my clothes back."

Chikako tosses a bundle at Mariko's feet. It's what's left of her clothes. The panties are crotchless, the bra has nipple holes, the stockings are torn in several places, the shirt's missing the sleeves and the top two buttons and the skirt has a slit up the side.

Of the jacket there is no sign. Still, it's better than her current outfit.

"Do you think you could untie so I can put it on?"

Chikako shrugs. "I'll consider it. Nice pussy, by the way. I like that you shave it. Is that a holy thing, shaving your pussy?"

Well, tonight's been a roaring success so far, you think, watching Mariko and Chikako haggle further. You wonder, what other cruel tricks should you play at the miko's expense? How many more ways can you deprive her of her dignity?

Ensuring that Mariko is visibly aroused is child's play. You've had enough time to determine the precise location of her most sensitive spots. One breath of warm air between her shoulderblades and she's flushed and panting.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself."

"I'm not!"

"Then why are your nipples hard?" Chikako tweaks one. Mariko inhales sharply.

"It's cold!"

"Uh-huh." Chikako sniffs the air. "Pussy's wet, too. I think you like me, Mariko. I think you like me looking at you."

"I don't!"

"You don't like me? That's awfully rude."

"That isn't - I mean - "

"Perhaps I should just leave you here, then."

"No! I like you, I think you're great, I just wish you'd untie me!"

"Wiggle your little tits."

"What?"

"If you like me you have to show it. Do a sexy dance. Shake those hips."

Biting her lips, Mariko shakes her tits for Chikako's amusement. She's entirely sick of following orders.

"Cute bell." Chikako fingers it. "Lets everyone know, here I come without any clothes on! Pty it's not louder. Anyway, kneel."

"Huh?"

"Down on your knees, perv."

"But I-"

Mariko doesn't finish the sentence because you give her a shove.and send her flying forwards. Chikako goes sprawling backwards, her skirt flying up, and winds up lying in a puddle, too-loose boyshorts around her knees, with Mariko's mouth pressed up against her crotch.

You'll admit you helped a little with the boyshorts.

"What the hell! Get off me!"

Mariko's voice is muffled. "M'm stmmck!"

Chikako's turning purple. "Stop touching me , pervert! You did that on purpose! What's wrong with you?"

"Mt's mmn mcccidemt!"

"You're licking me!"

Actually, you're licking her, but Chikako doesn't know that. She shuffles backward, dragging Mariko with her until the miko's chin snags on her boyshorts and drags them off entirely. Chikako leaps to her feet and snags her panties from where they've caught in Mariko's mouth.

"You're incorrigible," she says. "Tomorrow I'm going to file a complaint with the temple."

Chikako tugs the soaking panties up around her waist, then squats over Mariko and begins to undo the bindings around her knees and elbows.

"I was just going to tease you a little before returning your clothes," she says, "but now you have to pay just a little bit more." And Mariko realizes too late that the cloth of her bindings has been refashioned into a leash.

"Chikako, I didn't - "

"For now you're my little pet," says Chikako. "And little pets don't talk."

"But - "

"What do little pets do?"

"Um - nyaaan?"

"Very good." Chikako looks thoughtfully at Mariko and decides she needs to be dressed up just a little bit more. She looks cute in Ms. Oshiro's bra and panties, her nipples and pussy poking out. Somehow the extra clothing only magnifies her indecency.

"Now my little pet and I are going for a walk," she says. "Maybe we'll make some friends."

"Nyaaan nyan."

They do indeed make friends. Mariko mews and jingles away around half of downtown, rubbing up against strangers' legs and lapping milk out of bowls. People rub her head for luck. Nobody seems to ask why she isn't wearing cat ears instead.

By the time she makes it back to school the embarrassment has been overtaken by exhaustion.

"Poor tired miko," says Chikako, stroking her hair. "You've had a big day, huh?"

"Nyaaan."

"I forgive you for licking me." Chikako leans in closer. "I'm still going to complain, though, just so you get punished. I heard the abbess has a big wooden paddle she's been dying to use."

"Nyaan?"

"Goodnight, sweetie."

Chikako leaves her by the gates. It takes Mariko some time to remember that she can stand up and finally pull on her clothes.

She toddles inside, befuddled and sleepy, thinking only of curling up on a gymnasium mat, and there you are, blocking her path.

"Not so fast, sweetie. There's a couple of things I need you to say."

"If I say them can I go to bed?"

"Of course!" You hand her a notepad with her lines and activate the concealed tape recorder.

"Wait, these are dirty."

"Yes. Yes they are,"

She sighs. "As long as you promise not to wake me up in the middle of the night."

"My dear miko, I absolutely swear not to do that."

She begins to read in a dry, monotone voice. You swat her behind. "Say it like you mean it!"

She rolls her eyes and begins again.

"My name is Mariko Ishimura. and I'm a dirty little slut who loves to be stripped naked. Being naked makes my nipples hard and my pussy wet. I want to be tied up nude in front of everyone so they can all see me and I can't cover myself. Thinking about that gets me wet. I masturbate twice a day and when I masturbate I think about being spanked by the abbess with a big wooden paddle. I want to lick Ms. Oshiro's pussy while I touch myself and the abbess spanks me with her paddle. I took this job so I could expose myself to all the schoolgirls like the disgusting pervert I am. I get wet looking at the schoolgirls in their swimsuits. At night I touch myself thinking about the schoolgirls in their swimsuits and the taste of Ms. Oshiro's wet pussy."

She scowls and rolls the paper into a ball.

"Is that all you wanted?"

"That's all," you say, turning off the tape. "You can go to sleep now."

As she wanders off you can hear the words "fucking pervert ghost."

She looks so peaceful curled up on the mat that you almost don't have the heart to carry her to Ms. Oshiro's office, strip her naked, replace Ms. Oshiro's spare outfit, seat her in the chair and cue up the nastiest lesbian porn you can find. (White schoolgirls with ballgags and cucumbers. Western porn is weird.) As a finishing touch you rifle through the draws until you find a little black vibrator, smear it and Mariko's hands with KY and leave it resting against her inner thigh.

As you drift away she begins to snore.

Mei stirs as you slide into bed beside her, giving her a ghost cuddle. "There you are. Did you have a good evening?"

You smile. "I really, really did."

The day dawns bright and early. Mei greets it with a smile, having come twice in bed this morning and once more in the shower. Spectral cunnilingus is doing wonders for her self-esteem.

She trots into school beaming. You are there waiting for her, having gone in early to check up on Mariko. Her reaction to getting caught is everything you could have hoped for. Eyes wide with shock, naked and slick with oil, she's got nowhere to hide and Ms. Oshiro is still giving her the dressing-down of a lifetime.

Mei pauses as she hears the yelling drift from an overheard window. "In my own office? You filthy deviant!" She smirks. "Looks like someone's getting in trouble. Did you do that?" You links arms with her invisibly. "I'll never tell."

First period passes uneventfully.Tsukiko, in her flimsiest negligee, stays quiet throughout, seeming to have accepted her place as Mei's footstool. The other students regard Mei with a mixture of gratitude and awe. In just a few short days she's gone from shy nerd to queen of the school.

After maths is over they all file down the hall into the auditorium for the weekly assembly. Ayumi and Hanako give Mei a wide berth on the way in, having apparently decided not to try the disappearing uniform trick after all. Tsukiko, as student captain, gets to present the opening speech. The other students agree it was a good idea of Mei's to have her formulate it as a strip-tease. She stammers the whole way through, but overall you think she does okay.

She gets down, still trembling slightly, clad only in a bright red thong and nipple tassels, and without being told goes to kneel at Mei's feet. For a moment it occurs to you to wonder what kind of monster you've created. Maybe you've gone too far? You just wanted to make girls blush but now the school's becoming your own personal hentai paradise.

Tsukiko does look cute, though. Mei strokes her hair and smiles at you before popping in the ballgag.

The curtains open for Ms. Oshiro.

There's a stunned silence, followed by riotous applause. Again you wonder what kind of forces you've unleashed here.

Ms. Oshiro looks quite ordinary. Mariko, on the other hand, is clad only in some of the most elaborate ropework you've encountered. You wonder where Ms. Oshiro learned shibari? There are depths to that woman you'll never plumb.

The knot between Mariko's legs rubs against her clit in the most intolerable way as she hobbles to the miko, and for a moment you think she's going to come then and there, but she restrains herself.

"I have a confession to make," she begins, glancing over at Ms. Oshiro to make sure she's doing it right.

"I am..."

Ms. Oshiro nods.

"I am a very..."

You could hear a pin drop.

"I am completely innocent," Mariko says into the microphone. "I would never do anything this perverted! It's all the ghost, I swear! He's making me do-"

It is at this point that the PA system switches on and a certain recording plays for everyone to hear.

"My name is Mariko Ishimura and I'm a dirty little who loves to be stripped naked."

People begin to laugh. One, two, at first, then a dozen.

"I want to be tied up nude in front of everyone so they can all see me."

Mariko's face grows redder and redder.

"I want to lick Ms. Oshiro's pussy while I touch myself."

The whole auditorium's laughing at her now. Standing in bondage, completely nude, with her most embarrassing secrets played over the PA for everyone to hear. You kind of feel sorry for her. Maybe this is too far? Your dick is at war with your heart.

"Enough," Mariko spits into the microphone. "I tried to teach you and you wouldn't listen. Now I have to punish you."

Wait. What?

"I don't care if I can't control it. I don't need the sigils to bind it and the incense to pacify it. All I need is to summon it and you'll all be sorry."

She begins to speak in a low, commanding tone in no language you can identify. Well, not speak. Chant.

An eerie wind ripples through the hall.

"We'd better get out of here," you whisper to Mei. She tries to rise from her seat and finds that someone's holding onto her hand. It's Tsukiko, and through the ballgag she's giving the both of you an evil little grin.

You try to pry her loose but somehow she has the strength of twenty men.

This isn't great.

Mariko's ropes disappear. One by one they unravel into nothingness. She rises from the podium and she's no longer naked - she is cloaked in darkness, and something terrible shines within her eyes.

Her voice is Mariko's but overlaid with another, a deep, cruel echo that seems to come from a great distance away.

"I am the Princess of Perversion, the Emir of Ecchi, the Sultana of Sin - the Queen of Succubi. I have been summoned here from the special hell for perverts to teach a lesson to these naughty boys and girls."

She points into the crowd. Two struggling figures are raised slowly into the air. It's hard to tell if Ayumi or Hanako is the more scared.

With a wave of the hand they're both naked as the day they were born.

"You let me down," says Mariko, or possibly the succubus - they're kind of the same right now, "and the two of you must expiate your sins."

She flicks a finger. The two girls float together in what you realize is a surprisingly intimate conjoining.

As they turn in slow aerial circles, tongues hard at work, Mariko's eyes fall on Ms. Oshiro, who gulps.

The projector screen at the back of the hall flickers to life. It's showing Ms. Oshiro in her office, staring intently at her computer screen, quite naked and what's that small black thing in her hand? You always wondered what she did on her long lunch hours.

"Who's the real pervert?" asks Mariko/succubus. "And as we know, perverts get punished."

Life imitates art. Where'd the swivel chair come from? The real Ms. Oshiro is suddenly bound to it, wearing only stockings. Her vibrator bobs mockingly in front of her face.

It's not long before her moans join Ayumi's and Hanako's.

You both realize at the same time what's coming next. Mei tries to get up but Tsukiko's got a firm grip and isn't letting go. Her face has gone white.

"Be calm, my little avenger," you whisper. "I'll find us a way out."

Mariko's eyes turn in her direction.

"And as for you, Mei," she says, "orchestrator of this madness, you'll find the fruits of your perversion turned back on you a thousandfold. Oh, the things I'm going to make you do..."

Stop!" cries Mei, standing on her chair. "That's enough. Don't punish anyone else." Tsukiko's got a firm grip on her ankle.

Mariko gives her a condescending smile. "Why shouldn't I punish everyone here? I'm going to have you lead a parade, you little slut."

"Single me out," says Mei. "I'll do anything you say. Only leave the rest of the girls alone."

"It is worse to be punished alone, it's true," says Mariko. "But why would you volunteer for such a fate?"

"It's all my fault," says Mei, her voice trembling. "I enjoyed having power so much I forgot why I wanted it to begin with. I became no better than the bullies I wanted to fight, and now I'm paying the price. But no-one else should have to pay it with me.

"Hmm." The demon queen regards her coldly.

"All right. You can be my only little toy. But you'll have to do everything I say, or everyone suffers the consequences."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, mistress."

Mariko grins. "Lovely. Now strip down to your panties and sing us a little song about how you're a foolish pervert who deserved to be punished. You can make it up as you go along."

Mei's shaking fingers move to undo the first button of her blouse.

You can't stand this any longer. "Stop! It's my fault!"

Everyone gasps as they hear your voice, emanating apparently from thin air, confirming what the brightest of them have suspected all along. It's true! There's a ghost! This would blow Ms. Oshiro's mind, were she paying any attention to what's going on instead of trying not to drool.

"Punish me," you say, "if you have to punish anyone. The whole thing was my idea."

"Your girlfriend's already made me promise not to," says Mariko indifferently, "and I think it's a far worse fate to watch her suffer for your mistakes, don't you?"

"No! Please! Do it to me!"

"Cute!" says Mariko to Mei, whose eyes are screwed tight shut. "Look, everyone, teddy bear panties! Now slip your hand down the front, Mei, and play with your little pussy while you sing."

Mei's forefinger inches below her hem. You can't bear to watch. She's about to do the most embarrassing thing you can possibly do in public and it's all your fault.

A bead of sweat trickles down her thigh. There's the telltale whir of a video camera. You wish you'd been content just to haunt an old castle or something and never got into this embarrassing-girls fetish nonsense...

"Stop!"

What the hell is Katashi doing? Why is he up in the rafters over the stage? And how come he's got such a large pair of kitchen scissors?

"All he wanted to do was look at naked girls," he says, perspiring slightly from the effort of the climb. "And maybe that's not heroic, maybe it's not even particularly nice, but is it not all man has wanted since the dawn of time? And some of the women as well. I say to you, if he is a pervert, then we are all perverts!"

"Well, yes," says Mariko, "but I don't understand how all that relates to-"

Katashi leans forward and makes a couple of snips.

The stage curtains come crashing down. Mariko and Ms. Oshiro are instantly draped in hundreds of feet of velvet. From the sounds they're making, Mariko is furious and Ms. Oshiro just came.

You grab Mei's hand. "We have to run!"

She looks down at Tsukiko's fingers -

which have come free of her ankle. Tsukiko gives her a shy smile as she works the ballgag free.

"Remember when I swapped out your gym shorts so the new ones would fall down during basketball?" she asks. "I guess you were just getting even."

Mei nods. She doesn't have time to more gracefully accept this apology because she's too busy bolting for the door.

Carks honk and people fall of bicycles as Mei darts down the street. She's blushing but smiling. "I guess... this is my penance... huh?"

"Save your breath," you council. "She's gaining on us."

A dark whirlwind is careening down the road behind you, sucking the clothes off women as is passes. It leaves a trail in its wake of nude ladies in embarrassing positions.

A policewoman is sucked into the sky, stripped to shoes and hat and inexplicably handcuffed to a lamppost. An office lady is left dangling from a power line in in only garter belt and stockings. In one clothing store all the shopgirls freeze and the mannequins start undressing them for the window display.

Mei takes a look back and runs faster.

She can see the temple from here. It's high on a hill overlooking the city. As a passing bicycle takes on a mind of its own, taking its bottomless owner for a tour of the city, she sets foot on the first step.

She pauses, gasping for breath, and risks a look behind her.

It's just as she thought. The demon can't pass onto consecrated ground. The storm rages at the gates but can't come inside. Petulantly it snatches up a passing tourist, pulls her pants down and duct-tapes her hands behind her back.

Mei takes in the squealing city for perhaps slightly longer than she should have before she hurries up the stairs.

The abbess is waiting with a cup of tea. She's a tall, confident woman in her early forties and she can see you. That's a new one. It means you can't surreptitiously ogle her massive breasts.

"Sit down," she says, "both of you, and let's have this out from the beginning."

When the two of you have finished her face is like thunder.

"The two of you have been very naughty," she says, "and indeed I will devise suitable punishments, but Mariko? Foolish girl.. All she had to do was say the Chant of Kagemara and you would have been placed back in your original body. Now she's unleashed a force a thousand times more dangerous than the one she was sent to combat."

She takes a broad wooden paddle from behind her chair. It's inscribed all over with runes and sigils and other magicky stuff.

She wields it like a weapon.

"And now I have to go and spank the demoness into submission. But first, a word."

And she says the Chant of Kagemara.

You awaken, blinking, in a hospital bed. Nobody even noticed you were gone. Apparently your parents thought you were away on a school trip.

You're told the fight against the succubus was something to see, if you like screaming demonesses with their pants around their ankles being soundly reprimanded by abbesses with a giant sacred paddle and a grudge. It's all on Youtube, though, so you didn't miss much. The leftover perversion lingered for weeks, lifting a dress over a head here and animating a fleet of Sailor Moon action figures to ambush girls in the shower and carry them screaming through the street there, but eventually it dissipated and the women of the city were able to resume their normal lives. You are fairly sure you'll never see Mariko again.

The very next day, you are proven wrong.

"And may I introduce to you," Ms. Oshiro says with a little bow and an evil smile, "Mariko Ishimura, who to repayment for the damage she has caused this school will be serving as janitor until further notice."

"Um..." Mariko teeters up to the microphone. "Hi."

Her heels are too high to prevent much efficient janitoring, but you suspect that's not the point. Her maid outfit is cut far too tight and short to leave anything to the imagination. You suspect Ms. Oshiro got it from that cosplay shop in the mall.

She rubs her bottom unconsciously. You wonder how long until she'll be sitting comfortably.

"I would like to apologize," she says, "on behalf of the temple, for all the suffering I've inflicted upon the females of the school. As you've no doubt guessed, there was never a ghost - it was me all along, using my miko powers to harass and expose people."

She pressed her thighs together, but the people in the front row can still see her frilly panties.

"I'm to serve in a position of humility here until such time as I have repaid that debt. Furthermore - " she swallows - "I am tasked to obey any and all orders I am given until my time here is up."

"Show us your butt!" shouts someone. It's Hanako. She is sitting comfortably arm in arm with Ayumi, the two having apparently acquired a taste for each other.

Mariko turns on her heels, lifts her skirt and wiggles her panty-clad butt for the audience. You can't see her face but you feel quite sure she's blushing that blush you've grown to love.

Amid cheers and wolf-whistles Ms. Oshiro steps forward. She is wielding a small black object.

"As she has demonstrated herself to be an controllable deviant," she says, "Mariko's masturbation privileges have been revoked. She may only have an orgasm with my express permission. And right now I am granting her permission."

She presses the vibrator into Mariko's hand.

"But what if I don't want to?"

"You don't have to," says Ms. Oshiro, grinning, and you remember that Mariko hasn't come for like a week.

Even so, it's a long time before she gulps and lowers her panties to half-mast.

Her first orgasm comes almost instantly, but Ms. Oshiro's set a quota. Each time she comes she loses an item of clothing, and she has to be naked before she can finish.

After school you stand with Mei, hand in hand, smiling like dopes. She recognized your voice immediately.

Your kiss is broken off when an officious woman in a long white dress shoves between you. "Out of my way! I've a train to catch!"

You smile at Mei and wave a hand.

As the dress knots over a head and the panties retreat to the ankles, you reflect that some aspects of ghosthood are not so easily forgotten.

FIN.

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Pub: 17 Aug 2021 00:41 UTC

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