School for discipline

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The bouncing of the Greyhound bus made Lisa horny. The vibrations caused by the grinding bus engine sent warm sensations zinging up her teenage pussy. She could feel her cunt lips getting wet as they hugged the crotch-seam of her tight jeans, the tight scam cutting up between her pussy lips like a gag. Each time the bus hit a rut in the road her cunt almost spasmed. She took a deep breath and turned to the old witch on her right.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Turner, but I have to use the bathroom."

The square-jawed social worker gave her a quick scowl, then stared straight ahead again, her long neck stiff and straight, as was the rest of her scarecrow figure.

"The facility is known as a restroom, Miss Wills. I hope you're not intending to bathe in it."

"No, ma'am." Lisa rose to squeeze past her.

"Put on your shoes," Mrs. Turner said, grabbing Lisa's arm and forcing her back down. The wiry woman shard fingernails gouged Lisa's flesh, making her wince.

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