Mrs. Hathaway continued to watch the debacle in disgust, an open sneer on her face. Monica was panting breathlessly, eyes on the verge of tears.
"Alright! Enough. Enough. I don't think this game of 'tag' is going very well. Most of you don't seem to understand that it's Monica who's supposed to be chasing you. And Monica, you certainly don't seem to understand how it works either," if Mrs. Hathaway hadn't evilly narrowed her eyes at her in that moment, she could've thanked her outright, since her loud voice had caused all the groping boys to scatter like cockroaches. The girl felt vulnerable, still, since the small crowd parted and the sight of her blushing, perky young body was clearly visible again. Mrs. Hathaway's eyes drifted downwards, uncomfortably scanning Monica's body and lingering around the moisture on the ground beneath her.
"Hm. It also seems like many of you are forgetting the rules about the types of shoes allowed in here. And there's other filth as well. This floor is ten times filthier than when we started, do you all suppose that's fair to the janitor?" Mrs. Hathaway turned and paced for emphasis.
"Uh, yes!" chirped a random girl somewhere in the crowd behind Monica.
"What was that, Monica?" Mrs. Hathaway turned and glared at Monica with wide eyes. Monica, fumbling for the words to explain that it wasn't actually her, stood there, mouth agape as she feebly continued to keep her hands over her crotch and nipples.
"Apparently someone needs a lesson in respect!" storming over, Mrs. Hathaway snatched Monica by the hair and shoved her down, eliciting a cry of pain from her. The students were all giggling and watching from choice positions behind her. Getting Monica to her knees was not instant -- she bent at the waist at first, not knowing what Mrs. Hathaway was trying to do at first. If she'd known she was trying to force her to the floor she might've just complied instead of leaning all the way forward and giving the others behind her a several second shot of her slightly spread ass as glistening, bare pussy.
"Oww!" she squealed as she finally hit her knees, which were still spread apart. Then the tears started to come as the low, shuddering sobs began.
"Missy! You think you can talk back with your grades like they are? I want you to start cleaning this floor, right now! Someone get her a rag and something wet to clean with. Go on!"
One of the girls who hadn't been terribly mean to her so far brought over a strangely familiar tattered rag and dabbed at the tears on her face with it. Monica blinked some tears away, thinking that was sweet, until she had the slow, horrible realization that her face was being dried with the torn up remains of her panties! Sobbing even harder, the students all burst into raucous laughter when they saw she'd realized. Even Mrs. Hathaway snickered.
"Well, you've got something wet, and some otherwise useless rags -- get to cleaning! We're not stopping you!" Mrs. Hathaway near shouted.
The students weren't exactly getting in the way, but as she sobbed directly onto the floor and used her quickly dirtying panties to scrubb off the black scuff marks and the fluids that had dripped from her still wet cunny, they continued to chuckle and stand around her for the best possible view. Unable to cover herself and scrub at the same time, the boys behind her were now all covering hard ons they'd gotten from staring at her slightly glistening, puffy pink pussy. Back arched, her tight, smooth asshole was totally exposed as well in the middle of her firm little ass.
"Now it's time for everyone..." Mrs. Hathaway began...