
                    Why I HATE Riding on the School Bus
                        By Wendy Younger, Grade 2-B
                       (ghost writer Georgie Porgie)
                              8 December 1992


                      Chapter 1: Last Year on the Bus

     I HATE riding on the school bus!  I wish Mom would come and pick
me up, or let me walk home, or let me get a ride with Jenny's mom.  But
every day I have to ride the bus to school and ride home on it too.  I
HATE it!!

     It wasn't so bad last year, when the bus driver, Mr. Williams, let
me sit anywhere I wanted.  But this year Mr. Carter drives the bus.  He
gave everyone assigned seats.  Now I HAVE to sit where he told me to or
get my bare bottom spanked hard in front of everyone on the bus.  He
only did that to me twice, but he spanks someone else almost every day.
He always spanks a girl, too, so I try to keep quiet so he won't notice
me.

     There are four mean boys who rode my bus last year and they still
ride it this year.  Last year, every day when Mr. Williams stopped at
school to pick us up he always got out of the bus while we were getting
on.  The boys were always first in line.  They wouldn't let any girls
get on before them.

     They and the other boys would take the first three rows of seats.
We girls would have to walk past them to sit in the back of the bus.
The boys in the front seats would block the way, then let one girl go
through, then block the way again.  All the girls would try to run past
the four mean boys in the next seats, but the boys always caught us.
Except that they let the girls in fifth grade go past without bothering
them, and they ignored Potty, the ugly fourth grader.  Her real name is
Patty but no one calls her that because she's ugly as poop.

     I hated getting caught but I was just in first grade and they were
all in fourth grade and a lot bigger than me so I never got away.  I
wished I was in fifth grade so they would leave me alone.  Every day
they caught me getting on the bus, and grabbed me and held me by my
arms.  Then if I was wearing a dress, they would pull it up to my
titties for a while, and let all the boys around look at my panties
while I struggled.  If I screamed I would get hit by all of them at
once.  They would all laugh at me and whistle, then they would let me
go and grab the next girl getting on and do the same thing to her.

     It was even worse when Mom made me wear jeans and a shirt to
school.  I always cried and begged her to let me wear a dress instead,
and usually she let me, but sometimes she forced me to wear jeans.  Then
when the boys grabbed me on the bus, two of them would hold my arms out
wide while the other two unhooked my belt, and pulled my jeans down to
my ankles so everyone could see my panties.  They would hold my hands
over my head and pull my shirt way up and off my arms.  Of course I
screamed and screamed and tried to get away every time, but they were
just too strong and I was just a little girl then, just a first grader.
Besides if I screamed too loud I'd just get bruises all over.  Once they
had my shirt off, they would pull my jeans completely off, then pull my
panties down to my ankles next.  When they had me completely naked from
my ankles up, they would turn me around and hold me so all the boys
could see my pussy.  If I tried to cross my legs, they would grab my
knees and hold them apart.  All the boys would be laughing at me and
staring at my pussy and my titties and my bottom.  Finally they would
let me go, and I would take my shirt and jeans and stumble back to a
seat in the back and cry, getting dressed as fast as I could.  Of course
they did the same to any other girl who wore jeans instead of a dress,
unless she was in fifth grade.  The big girls were always last in line
so Mr. Williams never got on the bus while the boys were holding anyone.

     But that was LAST year.  This year Mr. Carter assigned us all
seats that we have to sit in.  He picked the seats by our last names,
so I have to sit between Curt Winters and Mark Zimmerman, and those are
two of the mean boys.  A little first grader, Katie Turner, has to sit
between the other two mean boys, Jack Trice and Pete Willis.  We all
sit in the very last seats, way in the back of the bus.

     The other girls don't have to worry any more about the mean boys
grabbing them and pulling their clothes off as they get on the bus to go
home.  But now everything the boys did to every girl last year, they do
to me and Katie every day, going to school and going home, the whole way
there and back.  And that's not all!

     The bus doesn't go all the way to my house.  I have to get on and
off two blocks from home, at the same place Curt and Mark do.  We are
the first ones to get on the bus in the morning and the last ones to get
off after school, and I have to walk down the block, around the corner
and down the next block to get home.  The bus doesn't go there because
it's a dead end where it wouldn't be able to turn around.

     Just as soon as we get on in the morning, the boys take me back to
the back seat of the bus.  Once I tried to sit in the front seat, but
Mr. Carter got down his paddle, pushed me over the back of the seat,
pulled my dress up and my panties down, and spanked me real hard on my
bare bottom right in front of Curt and Mark.  Because of that I have to
sit with them no matter what they do to me.  Mr. Carter doesn't hear too
well, either, so he never hears me or Katie crying and screaming even
though most of the other kids can hear us.  The one time he did hear me
he just spanked my bare bottom in front of everyone on the whole bus, so
I try not to scream so loud anymore.  Katie just cries and whimpers and
pleads with Jack and Pete real quiet.
