Starting the day was always awful for Monica, Orchestra. She had never really learned to play an instrument, but her mother forced her into this class her Freshman year because it would look good on her a college application one day. Which was one of two reasons she hated this class; she had the humiliation of playing the triangle in the front row, and her Orchestra teacher never liked her for "Ruining my music flow and being lazy." she'd always say.
She resigned herself to trying to get the day over with as quickly as possible and took her spot in the room, front row, center left. She heard many kids snickering and a sly smile come across Mrs. Dobbin, the Orchestra teacher.
"Well, I knew you were rather bare in talent but now clad?" Mrs. Dobbin asked in an antagonistic manner.
Monica said nothing, the last thing she needed today was more trouble.
Followed by the bell ring and Mrs. Dobbin fully sure the course of class will make things more interesting, she began class rather normally. She gave a short introduction to the piece they were doing this morning, raised her wand, and began to lead. As usual, there was no triangle to be found in this, but Monica was forced to stand straight anyway.
Then the second reason she hated the class reared his head. He was a short guy on the plump side who was assigned to stand behind Monica and play the trumpet. This seems like no reason for concern, right? Wrong? The guy had no way to control his spit, and would often get it all over Monica's back to her annoyance. One time, her whole backside was drenched in the boy's saliva, and because Mrs. Dobbin thought Monica was a bad student, she refused to move her. Today was no exception and they were playing an exceptionally tedious song this morning.
After thirty-minutes of this, they were finished, but Monica and her panties were drenched in saliva. The white between the flowers of her panties on the back was translucent and Monica sighed in disgust. Then it happened, the majorette walked in and gave an announcement to Mrs. Dobbin and by proxy the students. They were to practice a marching drill. This, in itself wasn't so bad, and as they all began walking to the door to exit, Mrs. Dobbin exclaimed in a pseudo-worried voice, "Monica, you panties are soaked!"
Then by cruel fate, the majorette said something seemingly innocent and held up a dark blue plastic stick, "Mrs. Dobbin, we need a flag for the march. This one doesn't seem to have one."
Mrs. Dobbins glanced at the young majorette perplexed and turned to Monica. Monica could feel nothing good came from this look. "Monica, dear. We seem to have two problems and lucky for us, a solution has presented itself for us. Remove your panties and this nice woman here will use them as a flag and air dry them as well.
Monica's eyes opened wide, and looked pleadingly at the majorette. She looked at the blue stick, to Monica's panties, and finally to Monica herself; she didn't seem adverse to the idea.
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