A lot, but one needs to be careful.

Donna’s skirt seems extra short because of her long, athletic legs. The whole school uniform thing is really such a turn on, especially with all the little vixens in your classroom. Sneaking a glance at her chest, you notice that the swimmer’s white, cotton blouse has the three topmost buttons undone, and you can just make out the top of a lacy white bra.

“I’m not really sure if that would be an appropriate thing for me to do, Donna,” you say as you try to look thoughtful.

“Please Mr. Doe,” Donna says, leaning forward ever so slightly. A second later she adds, “I’d do anything for your help.”

You stare down at Donna’s legs, clad in the white, lycra knee socks and shiny, black Mary Janes on her feet, with the clunky heel, and the petite strap over the top of her feet. You scan her from her feet, and up to her hemline, perhaps 5 inches above her knee. You wonder idly what she might be wearing under the skirt. After gazing at her legs for two to three seconds, I shook my head slightly to clear my thoughts, and looked back into her eyes

How far was Donna really willing to go to humiliate her tormentor?