"Do you want to fuck or are you still crushing on me?"

Certainly I was staring at Carmencita, staring at her body. Indeed, I had lingering feelings for her even after she had rebutted me. And under normal circumstances, I might well have been staring, or frequently looking her way. No amount of grief could change that she was in every inch and fibre pleasing to behold. However, on this occasion, the cause of my fixation on her, rather than any phantom romantic impulse, was shock. When she barked at me for clarification, her words only added to the crisis.

I had arrived at school early, as was my custom at the time. I had walked through the empty streets, crossed the paths of one or two vehicles, and heard somebody's front door opening a couple of times. Even when I got to school, roughly 07:45 am, there was more or less no one about. It was clear the staff were already there, because the gates and the corridors were unlocked, but they wouldn't come out to guard them until well after 8 o'clock. Only then could the rest of the pupils be expected in significant numbers. This had been the norm for several weeks, and I had adapted my waking time and commute to take advantage of it. A little time alone within the school grounds for a good long while before class was my ritual to help cope with the day. Thus, until Carmen arrived, the only remotely humanoid form I had seen all morning was my own shadow as I moved beneath the occasional active lamppost.

Until that moment I had seen nothing remotely out of the ordinary. There had been no anomalous behaviour from anyone in my entourage. There was nothing to say about the family household. There was nothing to say about my batshit crazy teachers. There was nothing to say about my driving instructor. Everyone had acted as normal until Carmen appeared before me. Then everything went nuts.

The skeleton of normality was there, I suppose. She had her woollen overcoat, her slim blue jeans and her plain black heels. Her eyes were still locked in an eternal dance between green and blue, never consistent. When she showed up on the scene she still walked the same as she always walked. Waiting for class she still passed the time staring at her phone like she always did. When she got annoyed at my dumbfounded stare she could barely contain her irritation, and spoke flames at me just like she always did. She was the same old Carmencita Ibanez I had had the misfortune of falling for.

Only... the upper frontal part of her coat had been carefully cut out, and whatever she wore underneath it had undergone the same treatment, such that there was not a shred of fabric across her chest. The lower frontal part of her coat, which extended several inches beyond her hips, had been cut away in an inverted V. Beyond that, the crotch area of her jeans had been excised. There was no sign of any undergarments. Carmen had come to school with her attire modified to brazenly expose her breasts and genitals.

She was glaring at me now. Her lips were very slightly parted and I could just make out her teeth. She would blow her top soon. My eyes started watering and I noticed my heart racing. I blurted out: "Shite! ... What...? Sorry I didn't mean to stare -- to be weird."

She raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied. Just then some more of our classmates arrived in the corridor, among which several girls. When I heard the sound of approaching footsteps I allowed myself to briefly break visual contact with the two jade Death-Ray Projectors to look in that direction. I immediately spotted Melanie, Sheridan and Françoise, the Golden Trio of Obnoxious Blondes. It took nearly all my mental strength not to gawp at them before locking gazes with Carmencita: they were in exactly the same bizarre state of undress as her. Although even more shaken, at least I could now guide my attempt to get through the coming seconds unscathed. I could not openly confront her - or anyone - about the inexplicable new dress code.

"Sorry about that, Carmen. I didn't sleep last night. I must have been seeing something that wasn't there."

She ceased silently casting the Avada Kedavra at me and her glare softened. In fact, she bared her teeth again, though not for a snarl this time. She asked, smiling, "Well, we still have a few minutes. Do you think you can get it up? Ease your mind a bit. Maybe actually send you to sleep in class. I'll give you my notes afterwards. Just don't get any ideas about romancing me. We've been over that. Game? I know you want me."

Now, I was listening carefully at this point, and slowly recovering some semblance of composure. As she spoke, the enormity of the first thing she had asked me just a minute earlier hit me, and I nearly lost it again. She was really offering sex? It was barely ten minutes or so before the teacher would arrive and class would begin; more than a third of our classmates had arrived and were casually waiting just a few feet away. Yet she was willing to take me then and there.

It was my turn to stare her in the eye as I weighed my options.