Drinks and a Show

I wish I could tell you I exercised impressive restraint, waited for just the perfect moment in class to trigger her new command...

... but the truth is, I was still walking back towards my seat when she started addressing my back. "Mr. Haines, you are... late again, young man." It dawns on me that I haven't taken the awareness blockers off yet for the new stuff... but she still ought to be freaked out or embarrassed, right? What a trooper. "Surely today you can recall what the Creature- eh?"

I tap the command without looking back; I'm already in my seat by the time her hands start moving forward. If Ms. Lia had any experience flaunting her chest, maybe she could've thought of something more subtle like using her arms and pinching her shoulders forward; it was honestly what I expected before now. But instead, her hands come right up to that impressive, wet chest and give it a squeeze.

The way the authority slips from her face tells the tale of just how potent pleasure can be when it comes out of the app. She only barely presses them together before she gasps so loud I think she hurt herself. In a way, she did... and the soft buckle in her knees within that embarrassingly-long black skirt tell the tale of what kind of "pain" she was experiencing. Her face brightens cartoonishly fast; her eyes water; she bites her lip to keep back what I must guess is a moan; and her nipples are... well, they'll always be hard now, but I think she just earned them.

But the awareness blocker is still on... and realizing how much more fun it is to see her not question it, I start browsing through my old options and uncheck awareness for everything. The list as it now stood, just for Ms. Lia, was already a bit crowded:

SPEECH:
Anatomically Incorrect Speech (RC: nipple twister.)

BREASTS:
Lactation
Immensely Pleasurable
Permanently Hard Nipples

BODY:
Arousal Multiplier (300%)

MISC:
Cleavage Tease
Forever Employed

HOTKEYS:
Drop Item
Bend Over
Squeeze Breasts Together

... but if it worked as I hoped it did... "What was that, Ms. Lia?" I say it with as much smugness as I can manage. Everyone who didn't notice the leaky tits before looks up now to see what the new disruption's about.

"I-I..." She's breathing her words. I'm absolutely taut hearing her high-pitched delivery of an attempt at discipline; the other guys and even some of the girls in the room are probably getting bothered by it too, even if they can't understand why. Ms. Lia brings her hands back down off the sides of her breasts. "I-I s-said-"

Another press. She still hasn't figured out a better way to do this and goes right back to mauling her own melons, deforming them ever so slightly against each other as the right tries to slide over the left. The bra barely keeps them in line, but it's enough; her words scatter into a broken moan before she can shut her mouth back up. A visible spurt of human milk issues from her nipples and bubbles droplets up through her top as she turns to go to the chair behind her in hopes of some reprieve at her corner desk.

But I'm not done with her. As she goes to sit, I slam the bend over command. What went from a slight bend at the knees to sit turns into her straightening her legs out and pressing her dripping knockers all over her desk calendar, soaking it in the process and blurring ink onto the most see-through patches in her top. The weight of her body on her breasts, smushing them against the solid surface of the publicly-funded desk, sends her into another fit of visible trembling. I swear I hear her knees clack together as she remains unable to bend them into a less embarrassing configuration; she's stuck there, tits on her table with milk starting to pool at the edges of where her fat tits spread on its face. I tap the bend over button again and combine it with tit-squeezing. She obliges as her heavy moaning can no longer be contained: she presses on the sides of her tits and continues to make a mess at her table.

It's at this point that I'm catching the expressions of my classmates... and aside from being transfixed, their reactions run the gamut from mild disgust to some grabbing their crotches as if to try and tame their own arousal. Their awareness isn't on for the changes or commands, but the results are still registering in the horny, animal parts of their brains. She's going to get a whole lot of reports and reprimands for this... only it would never take her from this job.

I finally relent the next time she tries to sit... and with her breasts now completely soaked and visible even through the bra, she seems only barely aware of the show she's putting on for us. Her hands begin adjusting her bra straps as she starts half-mumbling, half-moaning an apology to no one... and then it hits me. I move my finger back onto the hotkeys... this time, for "Drop Item."

She freezes up... but does nothing else. She continues to adjust her bra, albeit to no avail.

Alright, so I can't make her "drop" her bra while she's fixing it... and the same probably goes for any bit of clothing she's wearing. Ah well, I'll manage to find my own fun. With a grin, I keep my eyes locked on the chest-heaving, panting figure of our English teacher... and hit the squeeze command again.

For Ms. Lia, it was a matter of propriety, of respect, of decorum... and yet she could barely get a disciplinary command out to Mr. Haines before she suddenly had to saddle her hands on either side of her embarrassingly moist breasts and... God above... squeeze them. By accident or experiment, she had done things like this before... but they never felt like this. Her body clenched as she felt a bolt shoot through it; her various bodily centers warmed, her thighs clenched, and she felt a distinct, inappropriate tingle in her crotch. More, her breasts now shamelessly lactated under the sudden pressure as if to assure her that, yes, she was now creating milk despite not being pregnant. It is not abnormal in and of itself, or at least that's what Dave's app permits her to recognize; what is abnormal was her lactating in the middle of class, in front of gawking students as she nonchalantly fondled herself!

Her knees weaken with every involuntary squeeze. Just as with coming to work, she is powerless to resist this urge as well. She barely registers that her therapy session just got more complicated; the pleasure building inside her is growing rapidly out of control and, mortified, she realizes she's now made a mess of both parts of her underwear. Her long, black skirt was a blessing, now: pants would have surely made the hot, dribbling mess coating her inner-thighs all too obvious to the naked eye. I... I just have to sit down, and tell everyone to read silently for the rest of- That's when she has to bend forward. The awareness blinders are back on, which means her earlier questioning was long forgotten or rationalized away as a meaningless, idle thought. She curses her "need" as she presses her breasts against the table, but soon she's trembling too visibly to manage even that much. Now, at last, she adjusts her bra and tries her best to hide her soiled tits behind the knick-knacks on her desk: a line of pencil holders for her left nipple and a pencil sharpener, now turned sideways, to mostly hide the right.

Mr. Haines' tardiness was a long-forgotten offense now; she just has to try and recompose herself as she struggles to not keep reacting to every minor adjustment to her chest-

... but the commands begin anew. She tries to fight it for propriety's sake, but it's not a fight she can win: her breasts are once again mauled by her own hands, and now the damp spot on her cheap office chair is widening. Her breaths are coming in hot and ragged as she struggles to defuse the situation. "E-Everyone!" she moans before swallowing. "Everyone, p-please... read the assigned reading, silently to... to yourself-!"

The command was given... but the kids continue to ogle her. No matter how accepted some of her behaviors have become, the fact that they could basically see her bare chest and hyperventilating set even the straight girls to blush as they grow vicariously aroused.

"P-Please-!"

A double whammy: again she bends over, her hands on her breasts and this time closer to cupping them in front as she tries to hide her iron nips. She squeezes them together like so and feels the milk coating her hands; her face wrinkles in disgust and reddens in an approaching climax that she has never felt before and never wanted to feel in a place like this. But Ms. Lia is powerless to stop it: the urge to squeeze is rapidly delivered, forcing her hands to stay planted on herself as they maul and press her breasts until, from sealed lips and eyes screwed shut, her soft squeal could only barely be heard. Her knees shake violently below the desk; her pussy squirts--squirts!--without intervention save that it is blasted against the thin barrier of her underwear; and her body, alive and jolting with orgasmic bliss, pins itself to the desk for stability... and in so stimulating her breasts voluntarily, forces her into a deeper end of this unknown pool.

Her gasps are ragged and freely offered, because she cannot keep them; her eyes are unfocused, her hair tousled, and her top and bottom left in absolute messes. Without announcing her intent or her desire, she takes the lawful bathroom break she is permitted... and, after a moment, is replaced with a very confused, very nervous-looking hall security guard. He eventually catches everyone looking at him for some kind of guidance... well, everyone but Dave.