First hour

As you go to first hour, to see Miss Lambert's mind fuck, you add to her day. "No one will tell Ms. Lambert about the wet spot in her pants, and anyone who sees it will think it's funny she doesn't notice it. Miss Lambert will not stop teaching her classes today no matter what happens."

You take your seat in first hour. Miss Lambert is writing equations on the white board. You can see her nipples tenting her tight pull over. The other students file in and the bell rings to start class.

Miss Lambert goes to her desk and calls roll without looking up then she stands up. She looks at female student in the first row. She then blinks a few times and blushes ever so slightly. You smile and know she just wondered what it would be like to go down on that girl.

"OK, class, since about half of you bombed that last test, this next test will be make or break for some of you."

You raise your hand. Miss Lambert looks at you then as she did earlier, she blinks a few times and blushes more. "Yes, what is it?"

"Miss Lambert...."

"Oh god!" says Miss Lambert in a loud whisper as she bends over slightly. She straightens up again. "Yes, go on."

"Are you OK, Miss Lambert?"

This time she clenches her jaw and squeezes her fists. "Yes...I'm...OK. Just ask your question." She is looking at the floor in front of her.

"Um well, Miss Lambert..."

Her eyes roll back, and a wet spot appears in her crotch.

"I was wondering if we'll get a study guide or pre-test," you say.

"No, you...just have to study...the class work, and what you do in the text."

"Thank you, Miss Lambert."

She groans as she clenches her teeth, and the wet spot grows bigger. She turns and heads to her desk. She puts her hands on the desk and tries to calm herself down.

Another student asks aloud, "Miss Lambert are you OK?"

"Aggmmmm," is all she responds. "Just do the problems on the board!" she walks to the other side of her desk and takes a seat.

After a few minutes of the class silently working despite some whispering about Miss Lambert's nipples and the wet spot in her pants, you torment her some more. You walk up to her desk.

She looks up at you, about to upbraid you for getting out of your desk without permission, but when she makes eye contact with you, her eyes get big for a moment then she looks down at her desk. "Um, you don't have permission to be out of your seat."

"Sorry, Miss Lambert..."

She grips the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white.

"But I was wondering if I could go to the bathroom."

"Yes, just go," she says in an angry whisper.

"Thank you, Miss Lambert."

"Oh god," she mutters.

You leave class. "The students in Miss Lambert's class have lots of questions and will always say her name when asking them," you say as you head to the bathroom. You take a leak.