Sadayo Kawakami (Persona 5)

Shujin Academy, Tokyo. It was the final day of exams before summer break, the last student had in fact just finished and bolted as soon as they could. Sadayo Kawakami, a thirty-something teacher, stretched as she walked along the hall, checking for any stragglers or anything out of place. She basked in the quiet and sighed, thankful for another uneventful year.

It had been several years now since the Phantom Thieves incident and Kawakami had long since settled into her sole role of being a teacher. The management had been changed, some teachers had been replaced and the school had fallen slightly in standing, but the tension and sense of oppression and generally negative emotions had been cleared out. Kawakami no longer needed her second job and had been gladly dedicating more time and energy to helping students and small extra actions for the school, such as this little patrol.

She stopped for a brief moment, spying an open classroom door and went to investigate. She popped her head inside and frowned, clicking her tongue at the sight of the room. Someone had rearranged the desks to form a large circle, with the teacher’s desk at one side of the circle, near the chalkboard. What was most attention grabbing was the object that was on the teacher’s desk; a gold coloured boombox.

Kawakami sighed, entering the classroom and not noticing the door slide shut after her. She slid atop the desks in her way as there wasn’t enough room to go around or between them. The moment she stepped inside the circle of desks, the boombox started playing with a low, heavy beat. Kawakami stopped as the beat pulsed through her and then started strutting forward, her hands on her swaying hips. She meant to turn off the music, but she stopped in the middle of the circle and began shaking her hips to the beat. She looked down at her body in confusion as her hands moved from her hips down to her thighs as her legs spread as much as her skirt would allow and then made their way to her backside, groping her butt as she rhythmically shook her body. She would have cried for help, but she knew that no one would hear her and she absolutely did not want anyone to see her making these lewd dance moves.

Kawakami had no idea what she was doing other than it was a dance to the music. She did have the impression that her clothes, her skirt in particular, was hindering her movements. As that thought flashed in her mind, whatever brief sense of relief turned to panic as her hands moved to her waist, her thumbs suggestively tugging on the belt hooks. Kawakami closed her eyes, bit her lip and silently begged her body to stop. Her hands moved and pulled up her shirt,revealing a hint of her bra as she rolled her stomach and hips in a belly dance. She could feel a pressure building up inside her along with a heat.

Kawakami let out a breath, as while it wasn’t what she meant to do, she did appear to have some means of guiding her body movement. She did a slow turn, with a more exaggerated swing of her hips, moving towards the boombox. She bent over, clinging to the desk, shaking her ass. The music pounded in her ears and she was close enough to see the speakers vibrate with every beat. She tried to move one of her hands to the pause or off buttons on the boombox, but it felt like she was held down as her arm trembled. The music tempo picked up and Kawakami shook her hips and butt more vigorously to keep up. A whimper escaped her lips as she desperately tried to move her hand to shut the machine off. She desperately wanted to shut it off before someone saw her.

The song ended and Kawakami, now free of its influence, jammed on the stop button just as the first note of the next song started. The boombox was well and truly off and the pressure, heat and energy evaporated from Kawakami’s body all at once, causing her to collapse on the ground, her head resting against the desk. She was now aware of how fast her heart was beating and the slight burning in the muscles of her thighs, but, hips and abdominals. She felt exhausted, more tired than she had in years, but she **** herself to stand, hands on the desk, glaring down at the golden box before her.