But Couldn't I?

I stop just shy of leaving Ms. Hatts and half-turn towards her. “Given everything Ms. Lia has been doing... shouldn't she apologize to the school? As a whole?”

Ms. Hatts is the only one who meets my eye directly, but I can tell the maintenance guys perk up at the sound of gossip. “Ms. Lia's punishment is complete, Mr. Haines.”

“Absolutely,” I hastily agree, doing my best to appear ever the humble servant, “I only thought perhaps she should apologize as well... like over the classroom speakers? Just to make sure everyone hears it.”

“And interrupt every class? No, Mr. Haines, but I appreciate you taking your work so seriously.” She laughs off my suggestion, leaving me to politely exit on a down-note.

Alright, so it wasn't going to be that easy, not without blowing 100 gems on gaining control over all disciplinary measures. I thought to the rest of my roster, but none of their abilities were half as useful, nor could they get me into the principal's office with Ms. Lia. Racking my brain lasts all the way to first period--with Ms. Lia, conveniently--and I think on it as I stand for that ritual I rarely see due to being late all the time: the pledge of allegiance. Hand over chest I numbly listen to the pre-recorded pledge play on the PA system as state-mandated propaganda washes over me... and then I contemplate that voice...

... that's Ms. Lucas, the French teacher. She does have a soft, soothing voice, and so it's no wonder it was chosen from among the staffers to record for the morning pledge... but she's also a woman, and one I could possibly influence into a similar...

Wait, no, the likelihood of that was nearly nil. I was stuck in class anyways; I had at least an hour before I would be in range of Ms. Lucas to check her upgrades. But first things first: I had some numbers to put on the board with my dear, sweet English teacher.

She's already done half the work for me dressing as she now must: Free the Nipple and 10-Inch Skirts meant her shear dress shirt let her ever-hard nipples poke happily against their prison while she was **** to hide her lower half under the desk as long as she can. It probably wouldn't be long until an admin came in to complain about all the footage the students got last week, only to find her in need of punishment again for these clothes... but that's not enough for me right now. Only a dozen or so people have been aroused so far; I have to drive her to speak, even if it means she has to yell.

Her usual silent pledge is written on the board... but that's why the good succubi gave me hotkeys. I begin to tap and make her squeeze her ointment-enhanced tits, causing milky patches to very quickly outline her leaky tits. “N-No-!” She tries to stop herself from speaking, but the exclamation flows from her too quick, catching everyone's attention... and soon I'm playing her hotkeys like a piano, forcing her to bend over and onto her desk, splashing it with her perpetual lactations as I slowly drive her to masturbate to orgasm. It takes so little time that I realize I'm barely even needed to get her going once she's this enhanced; her body quakes and her voice spikes, and nothing but her gentle self-gropes are needed to perpetuate her orgasmic bliss in front of the class.

Her body bucks against the table, her milk now dribbling off its edge as it overflows, until I finally let go of the bend over hotkey and just mercilessly focus on squeezing her soaked mammaries together. One over the other they shift and play inside the shirt until two buttons finally surrender to her **** and open her blouse; her left, G-cup tit pops out in plain view with its sensitive nipple fully erect and erupting.

The students are... well.

Arouse 200 people: 52/200.

Ms. Lia probably aroused a few on her way in, but the class was, as a whole, entranced more by her cries of bliss than her nudity. Sadly, with my app needing all my attention, I can't test recording her voice at the moment; that hardly matters, however, because everyone else is recording it. What would it take to get some of the best recordings from the front row? I'd investigate that later; for now, it was my sole task to keep this going to see what would unfold.

It was happening again... and despite the morning rituals with David, despite his promises of curing her of this reprehensible behavior... it was happening again.

What was wrong with Ms. Lia? Her therapist's advice had been so sound, David had been so willing to help (of course), and she had seen treatment through... but how long did treatment have to last? When would she finally stop all this? Ms. Lia knew she was being recorded. She also knew the recordings were no doubt joining the others that had been spread across the internet to further ruin her, and what could be explained away as some episode of psychosis would now be impossible to discredit.

Time was slowly lost to her as she sat there milking herself until all the papers on her desk had been ruined. Her moans drove the students’ collective hands to their own bodies as they shyly peered about in hopes none could see, only to find others in the same rabidly horny state.

Sophia Lia was a wanton whore. They would say it when they wrote studies of what she did today, or so Ms. Lia feared through the haze of perpetual bliss. It was rather hard to care, now. She would finger-fuck herself on this already-soaked chair if her hands weren't dedicated to the task of mauling her tits; but her thighs squeezed together do enough for her ointment-coated privates. David had set her body alight, and she knew every surge in her body was owed to him... and paid to him as debt she would never escape. Tears, drawn from ecstasy and despair in equal measure, rolled down her face along with the drool as she howled right until a security guard stepped in, saw Ms. Lia was “at it again,” and left to radio it in.

Alright, so this is a huge success.

It took about fifteen minutes, or 90-ish orgasms, for her to finally yell and squeal at this room full of horny teenagers to finally drive them to just act on it. Some had paired up before the security guard finally came near enough (or got called in) to hear about the wailing, and only a few of them stopped once they realized authority is coming down to put a stop to it.

But based on the pizza girl, and based on how far this arousal-inducing voice seems to go... it would work. It just takes getting the administrators to let me and her near the PA... or else hope that Ms. Lucas has a similar option.

I half-expect Mr. Dent—the superintendent for the whole county—to show up since he was making his rounds, but apparently he had already moved on to monitor another school. Instead, this latest incident is apparently going to be resolved with the best possible alternative. The door opened to reveal, flanked by security guards, a certain Custom Girl.

“You have got to be fuc- Ms. Lia! My office! NOW!” barked the huge, red-faced Ms. Hatts.