She has to stand up, of course

Miss Lane was a tough, no-nonsense teacher. She felt she had to be, since the attractive twenty-something had spent her first lesson teaching this class not realising her skirt was tucked into her knickers, the only way she could think of to get any respect from the students was to beat it out of them.

"I was very disappointed with your essays." she began, "I asked you to tell me the themes running through Emma, and it's obvious most of you just watched the Gwyneth Paltrow movie and called it s night. Almost no one scored higher than 40%. No one..." she added begrudgingly, "except Sandry."

"Me, miss?"

"You were the only one who seemed to have read the book and understood it. So I want you to come up here and explain what you wrote in your essay."

"Me, miss?" she repeated.

"Yes, you."

"I can't, miss."

"I think you'll find you can."

"But, I... I can't."

"Sandry Smith, come up here and talk about your essay or I might have to reconsider the mark I gave you."

Sandry gulped, pushed back her chair and stood up. She had been seated at the back of the room, and as she made her way forwards she heard whispers build up like ripples in a pond.

"Look at her bum!"

"Do you think she knows?"

"Dude! She's got no panties on!"

"Got to be a g-string!"

"Who knew the prude had it in her?"

At last, cheeks burning red, Sandry reached the front of the classroom and turned her back to the whiteboard