Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 17

When they were gone and the immediate area was deserted I told Carol to stand with her feet apart. Then I reached one hand up under her raincoat and slowly began to lower her panties - first the left side, then the right, a little at a time - until they were stretched tightly at her knees, hanging completely exposed between the bottom of her raincoat and the tops of her boots.

"Turn around and stand facing me." She did so, moving awkwardly with her legs apart in order to hold her panties in place.

"Put down your purse." She put it on the bench next tome. "Open your coat."

She started to look around to see if anyone was nearby, but I said, "Now," and she quickly unfastened the six buckles on her raincoat then stood waiting, arms at her sides, her eyes on mine.

"Hold it open."

At first she opened it only enough so that I could see her but then, reading my gaze, slowly extended her arms to as far as the raincoat would allow her. I reached up and began running my fingers through her pubic hair, combing it and pulling on it gently. Carol watched, fascinated, as if it were happening to someone else. After a while I allowed my hand to drift down between her legs. I began by stroking her lightly with my middle finger. Carol said nothing, but shifted her gaze to mine anxiously. When I began to feel some moisture there I slowly inserted my finger until my palm was resting against her. Carol made a soft grunting sound: "Uh!"

I began massaging her there, my finger sliding in and out, the heel of my hand pressing against her clitoris. Her face began to contort, and her breathing grew shallow...

...Then I heard a low rumble, and through the rain-drenched plastic I saw a large blur approaching which had to be our bus. I stopped what I was doing and told Carol that the bus was coming. She quickly pulled up her panties and fastened her coat and by the time the bus hissed to a stop and opened its door she looked like any young college student on a rainy day, except that she was still breathing a little heavily.

The bus was part of the free campus service and would take us downtown. There were very few passengers, the weather being what it was that day, but I guided Carol all the way to the back. She knew why without being told, and as soon as we were settled and the bus had begun to move she reached over and began to massage the front of my pants. I allowed her to continue until we were downtown.

When we had alighted I led her into the local department store. We walked through the women's clothing department until we reached the girls' section. I led her into an aisle with shelves of underwear on display. We had the area to ourselves. I took Carol by the shoulders and brought her face close to mine, then told her, "Nasty little girls who wet themselves aren't allowed to wear grown-up panties. They have to wear little-girl panties." Then I turned her around to face the shelves and gave her a shove.

Being as petite as she was she had no trouble finding her size, and with my help picked out a dozen pairs of cotton panties with various little-girl designs printed on them, ranging from balloons to teddy bears to cowgirls on horses to crayons, plus some fancier ones in bright pastels with lots of huge ruffles. She seemed to enjoy selecting them.

After she'd paid for her purchases I took the bag and led her out through the rear exit, which opened onto a small, nearly unused back street. It was still pouring rain. Partway down the block I spotted an old-style phone booth: clear plastic top half, opaque red plastic lower half, folding door. When we reached it I told Carol to step inside. She stood facing me, rainwater dripping off her yellow rain-hat and coat, her red boots glistening. I stood under my umbrella, looking at her.

I spoke loudly over the downpour: "Give me your hat." She put her purse on the shelf next to the telephone, took off her hat and held it out to me. I took it from her and glanced quickly around while she smoothed down her hair: the street was deserted. I held out my hand to her and said, "Now your coat."

She swallowed, started to look around, and quickly realized that, just as at the bus shelter, she wouldn't be able to see anything through the rain-drenched plastic. She unbuckled her coat and quickly shrugged it off and handed it to me, then stood with her arms folded over her breasts, shivering in just her green panties and red boots.

"Panties."

Her eyes went wide, but she had been expecting it. She quickly lowered them and stepped carefully out of them, the rubber boots making her movements clumsy. She handed them out to me and resumed her position, assuming, I guessed, that she would not be visible below the waist to anyone not directly in front of the booth. She was shivering as much with fear as with cold now.