Struggling to keep her fire

Ms. Lia was a sight to behold. Standing tall over her classroom, she stared down every student right in the eyes, sending a warning that she wouldn’t tolerate any bullshit today. The embarrassment was only just beginning to fade from her cheeks, but years of practice let her send a chill down the spines of many of her subjects regardless.

“HEY!” A poor soul up in the front row startled awake from his daydream, having been lost in her tits since taking his seat. I can’t blame him at all, I’m sure most of the class is staring. He was just unlucky enough to be both in the front row and rather oblivious. It’d be impossible not to stare at this woman. Despite the cold glare on her face, right below is a warm and inviting display of feminine beautify. Presented to the class through the combined efforts of her rebel hands and an expensive push-up bra, her top ensures every inch of flesh above her nipples is free to gawk at. The black fabric of her shirt stretches tightly as it hugs her oversized melons, allowing some of the pink bra to shine through. Just above the neckline of her shirt, light frills peak out from below and hold against her flesh. At the edge of the shirt’s fabric, two distinct bumps poke through, and as her tits curve back into her chest two crossed arms wait. She may be a frightening woman, but this show was inviting many eyes.

“My eyes are up here! I swear if I catch any of you perverts eyeing my…” As she spoke, the anger on her face faded slightly as embarrassment creeped in. Luckily for her, she remembered her banned words just in time as her hands rose from under her chest. As she paused, grateful to have caught herself in time, I noticed her fingers tighten around her nipples. A brief flash of panic emerges on her face and she quickly shouts to avoid the punishment.

“-My jugs!” She continues. “I’ll have you mopping this floor every day till the summer.” Started off in a voice filled with venom, her struggle around “breasts” killed much of the impact. She attempts to brush aside the embarrassment and put her frown back on, but she notices where her student’s attention lies. Not even her anger and incredulous threat could surpass their investment in her tits and light nipple play. I personally was intrigued at how her command didn’t allow her to just skip over “breasts.” I suppose that if it hadn’t, that would be rather exploitable by the victim, but the command had never mentioned that.

Giving up on saving face, she tries to move past and instructs her students to pull out their books so they can continue the discussion from the last class. Turning around to the whiteboard, she takes a marker from the tray below and draws a simple chart to catalog the parallels between the Creature and the Doctor. As soon as this is done, her right hand reaches up for her chest, and the sudden intake of breath can be seen all the way from the back row. Standing there for a few moments, the class’s attention begins wandering around the room, this being the less interesting side of our teacher for now. As I wait for her to continue, I see her hands hovering around her bust until one of them leaps up to slap her face.

I and the few other classmates who were still busy staring were stunned. I couldn’t believe how hard the commands were pushing her. If I were to guess, this was the command preventing her from quitting or skipping work kicking in. I guess stalling and not doing your job qualifies as skipping work, which makes sense I figure. From the way her legs carried her into the room, it seems like it, whatever it is inside her right now, thinks being late is just like skipping as well. That thing would be quite the diligent worker if it had its own body.

As Ms. Lia stares at the hand that hit her, her copilot loses patient and twirls her around on her heels. Her face red, she attempts to mask her frustration and embarrassment, but people weren’t really interested in looking at her face. With her wide hip cocked to the side, her shaking chest calms down and presents a marker right below her chin, a short blue line colored onto her flesh. As the class stares at her, her inaction leads to a quick twist of a nipple, and she finally calls out to the class.

“Alright class, who wants to begin?” Scanning the class, she catches my raised hand. I’m sure she was a little surprised given my past participation, but she figured she’d take what she could get to put this class on track.

“Speak.” I was clueless regarding the book, but I had some more pressing matters to talk about with her and the class.

“Why did you put that marker between your jugs?” I carefully emphasize the word jugs, reminding her of what she had called them only a minute ago. Her eyes go wide, unable to believe that a student would talk to her with such audacity. Rage flows into her face. Her hands rise and find their place on either side of her tits as if to hold them from jiggling side to side. She stares down at the marker nestled into her soft valley, and when her hands squeeze her tits together slightly she stares daggers at me.

“What the hell are you thinking talking to me like that!” She shouts across the room as classmates stare at me wide-eyed for my brashness, hands still caressing her side-boob through the thin fabric of her shirt.

“Oh I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking, aren’t I?” I gesture around the room but find no one willing to back me up. “Come on Ms. Lia, you have to admit this is a little surreal.” Nostrils flared, she focuses her voice into an ice-cold ray of hate.

“You don’t have the right to question my authority in this classroom Dave. Nor do you have the right to disrespect me so flagrantly.” She leans in on me from across the room, her hands finally lowering below her chest again. The way she places her arms keeps her boobs propped up as she lowers her cleavage with a slight bend. I struggle to focus and keep my gaze trained on her eyes.

“Disrespect you? How?” I try to egg her on, and to my great pleasure she takes the bait.

“How?! By calling my breas-OOOOOOW!” As soon as her words fall in the trap, her hands give her what had to be the most painful **** yet. All the **** behind her hate-filled words are under her fingers. They punish my teacher with a harsh twist to both nipples at once, holding them tightly for a second as she yells and winces in pain. Open releases she takes several deep breaths, and her hands return to her breasts, giving her a soft tug to hurry her along and correct the mistake in her language.

“By calling my…milkers that.” She manages, satisfying her hands as they return to cross under her cleavage. Everyone in the class is stunned. Their teacher is showing off cleavage that she would have previously sent a girl to the office for, she shoved a marker down there, and she abused herself while a brave student talked back to the queen bitch for the first time. I’ll need to do my best to keep upping the ante with my new doll.

“Oh, they’re your milkers now?” I prod again, but it seems my luck was pushed too far.

“That’s enough! Get out of my room and go to the office, I’ll be calling your parents and letting them know what kind of a disgrace you are.” Well shit, now my mom’s gonna be on my case about this, and I don’t get to stick around for the rest of the show. Without a word, I grab my backpack and walk towards the door. Ms. Lia stands at attention staring at me on the way out, and I almost decide to cram something down her cleavage. Being in enough trouble already, I decide to save that for another time.

As I’m standing outside the classroom, I pause to take a look back in. Ms. Lia has her hand up on her forehead and takes a large breath, while the other gives her nipple a warning tug through her shirt. With the marker still peeking out from her cleavage, she begins fielding questions to the class again, although students are slow to begin answering. With her focus on the class, I watch from a distance as I take out my phone. She isn’t holding anything, at least not in her hands, so I check how general Drop item is.

In the middle of her question, Ms. Lia is startled by her hand reaching up for her tits, a fearful look on her face as she braces for more punishment. Instead, the hand grabs the marker and lets it fall to the floor. She lets out a huge sigh of relief, but her face darkens as within a few seconds her copilot takes the wheel. Feeling her legs straighten out, her body bends over slowly from the waist as she stands over the fallen marker. Her tits dangle her, threatening to expose her nipples as the flesh spills out a little more over the top of her shirt. With her ass rising high and her melons hanging low, her hand gingerly picks up the marker and pushes back in place in her cleavage like it’s a soft, juicy purse. Face red and eyes watery from losing control again and displaying herself, her body lifts her back up slowly. In an attempt to pass over the incident like nothing happened and avoid being prodding with more nipple play, she repeats her last question with a shortness of breath.

Holy shit. I look down at my phone, and then back to Ms. Lia and realize how much control she’s lost. All I did was make her drop the marker, and her body took over and returned it to its rightful place. The command had specified that she would keep things in there if they were going to be needed, and that marker it deemed necessary. Not even being puppet-ed by her student could overpower that. Noticing me still standing there, she gives me a look that breaks through my thoughts. I figure I’ve pushed things enough today, and I head down to the main office.

As the bell rang to signal the end of the period, the tension in Ms. Lia’s chest finally lessened. She had taken the time when her students were speaking to her to focus on her predicament. She would bring her hands near, but always stopped short of the marker, and further struggles only worsened her case. Despite her greatest attempts at exerting her will, her hands would only crush her boobs against each other or sink their fingers into her flesh enticingly. This proved fairly distracting for her students, who stumbled through their words awe-struck at her display. Ms. Lia didn’t chew them out for their obvious attention to her chest only because that too was the sole focus of her efforts, before giving up, offering a token response to the student’s thoughts and going back to her lecture.

Taking a sigh of relief that her humiliation seemed over, she notices that her tits have retained the attention of much of the class. With a shout and a snarl, she manages to break their trances and they scurry out to the next class. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Ms. Lia brings her attention back to her chest. Looking down, she sees her mounds standing tall on her chest, blocking view of her feet as she stands in front of her now empty classroom. Focusing all her will, she stuns herself by how effortlessly her pulls the marker out of her cleavage. It seems that whatever was forcing her humiliation had taken a break, and before the marker could plunge back in, she chucks it across the room.

Closing her door and walking to her desk, she takes a seat and rests a few moments to settle herself. The heat in her face and chest slowly cools, and she sits back up feeling a little bit calmed. With a frown she takes note of the mess the marker left on her boobs, many short trails of ink staining the soft, smooth skin. Using a wet-wipe, she’s able to remove most of the stains, but with some attention other’s would be able to determine something had happened. She almost considered heading to the bathroom to clean them more thoroughly, but the last thing she wanted was to see a student or coworker publicly scrubbing her tits.

Picking up her purse, Ms. Lia places a small personal mirror on the desk in front of her. Seeing her reflection, she notices a small hint of areola peeking out from under the edge of her exposed bra. Intending to correct malfunction she grips the edge of the lacy fabric. Given the nature of class, she supposed she was lucky that this was all she was showing. Back this morning when her hands **** this outfit upon her she had doubted that it would keep her modest, and as it turns out she was correct to doubt it. Her top looked like it was only a few good shakes away from popping her nipples out in front of the class.

Her eyes dim as she wonders how many students noticed this. She had to assume many, but she was at least thankful all they got was a tiny bit of red. With her fingers on her bra, she goes to pull it up to hide herself better. The teacher’s resigned eyes light up as she focuses on looks to raise her bra back up, finding her fingers unresponsive as they only hover in place with the fabric. Suddenly they move, but instead of fixing her dress they pull the bra out and downwards. The strapless bra folds over the front of her shirt, displaying her tits in all their glory to the mirror.

Shocked, she quickly releases her grip, letting the bra lightly snap back against her boobs. Staring at the mirror with a red haze crawling over her cheeks, she views her nipples poking out over the top of her disheveled bra. With shy hands she creeps back up to attempt another fix, and slowly tugs the bra back into place. Her hands take it almost all the way there but stop moving before finishing the job, allowing the edges of her nipples to peek out from under the bra. Glaring at her hands for a moment, the teacher slams down her on her desk, sending faint pain into her palms and a jiggle into her chest. With an hour until her next class, Ms. Lia resigns herself to grading papers to keep her mind and hands distracted until her next trial.