Advanced Anatomy

Finally, red with shame, I found myself naked, folding my clothes to cover my breasts and genitals.

• Sit on my desk facing the students,

I obeyed, lowering my head as I heard snickers. Ms. Imamura slammed a ruler across the desk.

• That's enough. You're here to study, not to behave like immature children. With the thin ruler, she lifted my head.
• Good. I'm going to point to some parts of her body, and you're going to tell me what they're called, what their function is.

The cold wooden ruler slid along my collarbone, stopping at the base of my neck where my pulse was pounding.

• Who can name this body part and its function? Ms. Imamura asked, her voice as sharp as the ruler's edge.

A boy with narrow eyes raised his hand, his arrogant smile betraying an all-too-familiar knowledge of the answer. "The supraclavicular fossa, Professor. A sensitive pressure point. If you press hard enough, it can cause suffocation."

The ruler slid lower, icy cold against my trembling flesh, stopping in the throbbing hollow between my breasts. Beads of sweat trickled down my spine as Professor Imamura slowly turned the instrument toward my sternum.

"And here?" Her voice made the air tingle like the blade of a scalpel.

A girl with bright red nail polish raised her hand sharply. "The xiphoid process, Professor."

Professor Imamura nodded in agreement, the ruler slowly sliding down toward my stomach and pointing to my pubic area.

The ruler stopped barely a centimeter above my pubic hair, the wood brushing against my skin with each panting breath.

"This area," announced Madame Imamura in a drawling voice, "deserves special attention." A thick silence fell, broken only by the nervous rubbing of a few students' thighs on their seats.

The ruler pressed gently, forcing me to spread my legs slightly to maintain my balance. The cold wood contrasted with the humid warmth it brushed against. The ruler stopped barely a centimeter above my pubic hair, the wood grazing my skin with each panting breath.

"The pubic symphysis," a woman's voice from the back of the class declared, strangely husky. "Anchoring point of the abdominal muscles and... upper boundary of the vulva."

She moved down and pressed viciously against my clitoris.

• And this point I'm pressing on? I want the name and the most complete definition possible. "The clitoris, Professor," replied a strangely breathless male voice near the window. "The only part of the human body exclusively dedicated to pleasure. Approximately eight thousand nerve endings concentrated in a space of..." His sentence broke as Madame Imamura's ruler pressed deeper, making my thighs tremble.

"Continue," she murmured, tracing small, vicious circles with the instrument. The tip of the wood, now warm from my humiliation, relentlessly sought the glans beneath its sensitive hood.

"The... clitoris," I gasped, my fingers gripping the cold edge of the lectern as the ruler pivoted with cruel precision, "includes corpora cavernosa that... that extend to the vestibular pillars—" My voice broke into a muffled moan as the wood slid abruptly toward the moist entrance below.

Madame Imamura slowly raised the instrument, leaving a glistening trail on my skin.

"Very good," she murmured, her dark eyes fixed on the damp glistening on the polished wood. The ruler trembled slightly in her hand as she placed it against my stomach, heavier this time, as if imbued with a new purpose.

A student near the front row coughed, the sharp sound making several girls jump, their knees instinctively clasping together.

The ruler descended with calculated slowness, crushing the small, sensitive mound beneath its relentless weight. A trickle of saliva escaped my lower lip as I arched my back, my nails scratching the wooden surface of the lectern.

"The vestibular pillars," Madame Imamura repeated, emphasizing each syllable, the point of the wood digging into my flesh like a pencil on damp paper.

A spasm ripped through me as the ruler sank deeper, revealing beneath its pressure the slightest tremor of my tense muscles. The wood, now warmed by my skin, slid with a natural lubrication that made each movement more insidious.

"Continue," she murmured, her voice lower this time, almost hoarse.

The ruler pivoted a quarter turn, its sharp edge now aligned with the throbbing cleft it threatened to open. A collective gasp escaped the students as the wood penetrated just a few millimeters, enough for my reddened skin to yield to the methodical pressure.

"The vulvar vestibule," I managed to utter, my voice choked by the icy penetration of the wood that now parted my labia with clinical indifference. The ruler came to a stop, its perfect edge exposing the moist mucous membrane that throbbed under the harsh classroom lights.

A transparent thread stretched slowly from the polished edge to my pubis, forming a trembling bridge that snapped under the weight of my shame.

• Shut up, you little fool, show me the palm of your hands.

I obeyed, trembling, struggling to regain my composure as the ruler slammed down on my palm.

The pain shot like an electric shock, eliciting a muffled cry through my clenched teeth.

-Keep your hands like that, I'm not finished.

With those words, five blows landed on my palms.

The first blow snapped my skin like a whip, leaving a bright pink mark that throbbed under Madame Imamura's icy gaze. The second hit landed before I could catch my breath, crushing the same already burning nerves. My fingers clenched, but I didn't dare close them—the silent threat of her ruler hung in the air, ready to punish any disobedience.

"Okay, let's start again," she said, pointing the ruler at my nipples. "Tell me as much information as possible about this specific spot and the area around it."

Uzachi's voice began to explain:

"The areolar area contains Montgomery glands... also called nipples. The area around them is called breasts."

Madame Imamura nodded slowly in agreement, the ruler still resting across my reddened palms. With a precise movement, she slid the icy end of the ruler along my sternum until the tip hovered just above my left nipple, already hardened by the tension and the cold air of the room.

• Elaborate more on its basic function and its sexuality.

The ruler grazed my nipple with cruel delicacy, making it harden further under the gaze of the entire class.

"The Montgomery glands..." Uzachi murmured, her voice trembling slightly as I held my breath, "...secrete a lubricating substance during breastfeeding. But they are also..."

Ms. Imamura pressed the ruler harder, the cold edge crushing the sensitive flesh. "Be a little more specific, I want facts, Uzachi."

"...extremely sensitive to erotic stimulation, this area also serves to produce milk to feed infants; this use, in turn, provokes a fantasy in many people," Uzachi finished in a strangled voice as Madame Imamura's ruler began a slow circular motion around my nipple. The polished wood, now warm from my humiliation, crushed the small glands with surgical precision, each rotation exposing more of the flesh under the harsh lights.

The tip of the ruler lingered on the edge of my areola, pressing just enough to make a small, pale point of flesh bulge. A shiver ran through me as the instrument slid toward the center, the wood, now damp with my own perspiration, sticking lightly to my skin.

"Observe the erection of the nipple," Madame Imamura murmured, her low voice breaking the tense silence of the room.

At that moment, the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

We will resume this afternoon with practical exercises.