“Bethany Wilkins!” The sharp voice of the teacher rang out through the classroom. At her desk, Beth jumped in startlement. Hurriedly, she tried to slip her cellphone back into her purse, but an instant later, she knew she was too slow. “Is that your phone out during a test, young lady!?!” Mrs. Hemmings demanded.

Head hung down, Beth nodded. “I wasn’t looking up answers, honest!” But her pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Principal's office now! And the rest of you, pencils up, eyes on your own tests!” The teacher pointed to the door.

Glumly, Beth rose from her desk, trying to ignore some of the snickers of the other girls as she walked across the classroom to the door. She opened it and stepped out into the quiet hallway of Redmond Height’s Girl’s Academy. There, she paused for a second, taking a deep breath to get over the shock of getting caught. “I’ll be alright.” She said to herself, softly. “It’s only my second strike this semester…” Relieved at the thought, she turned and headed in the direction of the Principal’s Office.

The 18-year old Senior makes a pretty sight as she headed down the hall. Her dark hair was cut shoulder length, held back by a hair band, keeping it off her open, friendly face, round rosy cheeks and small, pert nose dappled with a few freckles. Beth was dressed in the standard uniform at Redmond Height’s Girls Academy: a short sleeve white blouse, emblazoned with the school crest, tartan skirt, white stockings and black patent leather shoes.

But in the fashion of all the senior girls, Beth had modified her uniform to within a hair of breaking the rules. Her blouse was a size too small, the top two buttons left undone to try and make the most of her small, pert breasts. Below, her skirt had been carefully measured out to within a few scant millimeters of being too short for the dress code, showing almost the whole length of her long, stocking clad legs, including a few inches of soft, smooth skin between the end of the stockings and the beginnings of the skirt.

Beth took it as slow as she could, dawdling in the halls, but soon enough, she arrived outside of the Principal’s Office. Through the door, she stepped into a small waiting room between the hall and the main office. The Principal’s secretary was seated behind a desk, typing. Without a word, she directed Beth over to a row of chairs where several other glum looking girls were seated, waiting their turn. From the pale expressions on some of their faces, their three strikes are up and they know it. To the left of the chairs is the door, leading to the Principal’s Office.

A few minutes after Beth had taken her seat, the door opened and an imperious voice calls for: “Louise Perkins!” One of the pale faced girls got up. Feet dragging, she stepped through the door into the office. Five minutes later, the door opened again. No girl came out, but the voice again called: “Sarah Reynolds!” Another glum students headed in to face the music. Beth waited, a few more girls came in, taking their place in line behind her. Eventually though, the voice called out: “Bethany Wilkins!”

Taking another deep breath to steel her nerves, Beth got to her feet and walked to the door. She went through. The Principal was sitting behind his desk, leaning forward, hands steepled in front of him. “Take a seat.” He said in a low voice. Nervously, Beth did so, sinking into the small, hard wooden chair so many other girls had sat in over the years, waiting to hear their punishment from the Principal.

“So what is it this time?” The Principal checked his notes. Mrs. Hemmings must have called ahead while Beth was dragging her feet, because he had it written down. “Let’s see...cheating on your phone during a test, were you? You should know better.” He sighed, getting up from the table. “Well, stand up and turn around.” He turned to a small table behind the desk, on which was a small box.

“But...but it’s only my second strike, sir!” Beth protested feebly, face going pale.

“No, having your phone out during class was strike two. Cheating on the test was strike three.” The Principal replied.

Beth started to protest, but she knew it would do her no good. Glumly, she rose to her feet, turning around. Behind her, she could hear the principal taking several things out of the box and setting them on his desk. He walked around it, to stand behind the schoolgirl.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered. Beth did and a second later, something came around in front of her face. She caught only a brief glimpse of the black rubber plug before it was jammed into her open mouth, the large ball popping between her teeth. A number of leather straps came off the ball, two went around the sides of her jaw, buckling behind her head. Two more crossed the bridge of her nose, joining into one that circled over the top of her head. Another went underneath her jaw, forcing her to bite down on the ballgag. Soon a web of leather straps encircled her head. She groaned as each was tightened, so her head was squeezed from all sides.

Next, a collar was pulled around her neck. It was thick, of padded leather and tall, running the full length of Beth’s neck, from just below her chin down to her shoulders. As it was buckled on snugly, Beth found she couldn’t move her head except by turning her shoulders as well.

After the collar, the young woman’s arms were grabbed and placed together. A sheath of soft leather was pulled up around them. Straps circled her shoulders, connecting to her collar. Beth winced, chewing on the rubber plug in her mouth as the armbinder was laced up tight, forcing her arms close together, until her elbows almost touched.

The last part of her restraints were a pair of leather cuffs, around her ankles. A short chain linked them together, leaving her about a foot or a foot and a half of slack to move about with. A short leather lead was clipped to the front of her collar. A sharp tug sent her shuffling forward to another door, opposite the one she’d come in.

Through it, Beth came into a larger room that looked like any other classroom, neat rows of desks facing the whiteboard at the front of the room and the teacher’s desk. About half a dozen of the desks had a student sitting behind them. Like Beth, they had been gagged, collared and bound with armbinders and ankle fetters. A few glanced up as Beth was dragged in, murmuring into their gags sympathetically. She recognized some of them from the girls who’d been waiting in line ahead of her.

The Principal took Beth to the closest empty chair and pushed her into it. He fiddled with the leather leash on her collar, securing it to the back of the desk chair.  Then he turned and left. There was nothing to do but wait. She couldn’t get up from the desk, couldn’t walk around. The gag made it all but impossible to communicate with her fellow students, so she could only wait, in anxious tension about what was coming.

Fortunately, it was late in the day, so she only had one more period to wait before the end of the school day. The Principal returned two more times, each time dragging a glum girl behind him who’d used up her three strikes, tying her to one of the other desks as well. Eventually, Beth heard a bell ring, announcing the end of the school day. On the other side of the classroom walls, she could hear other students walking past heading home for the day, while she and the other troublemakers remained stuck here. Eventually the sound faded as the last of the girls left the building.

Then, the Principal came back. He walked to the front of the room, grinning as he eyes the students. “So many trouble makers. But we’ll straighten that out, sure enough. Welcome to after school detention girls…”