Dignity of the Ivy League

“Yesterday, I was shocked and disappointed, Ms. Lia... but today, I'm just disgusted with you.”

I could get used to having lunch later than normal if it meant this would be the new daily routine. Once again I find myself in Ms. Hatts office, and again her stern words are issued not to me, but to my beleaguered English teacher. This time she was incapable of even acquiring Ms. Hatts' help in finding one of the large towels from the gym, so she came dressed in the state I left in her: a navy blue shirt stained with sweat, milk, and drool; a black skirt with a shining patch from when it tucked against her sopping slit as she bent over; and two broken heels on her well-worn black shoes. Her earrings had once again eluded her during our hour together, or else they fell off during my many bathroom breaks spent passing her room and throwing a few new commands her way.

This time she did not retreat to the bathroom... but Ms. Hatts was on notice now and, sure enough, caught her on a surprise patrol of the school. Ms. Lia was in just the state I drove her to: squeezing her tits and moaning like a whore in front of an entire classroom. The AP's fury was a bit of a mood killer, but I was happy to see it during my class instead of another: with me behind the controls, I made sure the entire exchange could only escalate. Now, at the top of the first lunch hour, I get my front row seat to the consequences.

“Masturbating in front of an entire class of seniors,” Ms. Hatts hisses.

“I told you,” Ms. Lia sobs, “I don't have any say-”

“Is someone else putting you up to this?”

“I... no,” Ms. Lia confesses. It makes sense: I've been careful about abusing her with my phone out and visible, so she hasn't a clue.

“So you're doing it willingly?”

“No!”

“Then how is it against your will?”

“Damn it, Cathy, I don't know-!”

Hatts slams her fist on the table; I could swear I heard something crack in its faux wood surface. “My methods work, and they work well, Sophia,” she growls, abandoning all notion of the "no-first-names" rule, “but it's obvious I was too soft on you the first time you came here.”

“Please, just... not him,” my teacher spat in return with a finger meekly pointed at me, “I can tell he actually enjoys it, and he's a sick little-”

“It will definitely be him,” Hatts chuckles, “and it will be him every time until you finally get your shit together!”

“You felt pleasure when it was me, didn't you?”

“Shut up, I refuse to- noo!” Ms. Lia howled anew as her fingers went to work on her tender, drained nipples, squeezing nothing from them as she further outlined their shapes against her sticky blouse. “Oh God, fine, yes, I did! But that doesn't... mean anything!”

Ms. Hatts tsks. “Oh, it could mean plenty... but what I know it did not mean was that you got enough to turn a new leaf. With enough pleasure, however, your behavior should improve.” Briefly, she turns to me with an almost pitying look. “I hope you know I only ask you to do this as a disciplinary matter? You can refuse if she tries to make this... recreational.”

“Don't worry, Ms. Hatts, I'll do my best,” I reassure her with, by means of willpower I didn't think I had, a somber face.

“How does that make sense?!” Ms. Lia demands, but Hatts is in too deep with my app; she just shakes her head in exasperation.

But if she's internalized the whole "orgasms are punishment" mentality this far... well, I dip my toe in to test it. “Then we just need to try something more severe, right? Perhaps I should give her even more pleasure-”

“Know your place, Haines,” the bulldog quickly admonishes... but then sighs, “but I'm afraid... he's right.”

“I...” Ms. Lia swallows as she tries to find her footing. I've certainly put her through her paces, so I'm surprised to see there's still some steel in her eyes as she meets Hatts' glare. “I graduated among the elite of the elite of Harvard. My credentials put this entire school's faculty to shame. I have studied education fundamentals that won't be applied properly in this school likely for another fifty years, and I deserve treatment and consideration fitting of the dignity that calls for. I will not be... toyed with by a man a year older than he should be at this level of education, much less one as undeserving as this one who cannot be bothered to read assignments and yet has the audacity,” Ms. Lia continues, her voice shaking as she puts her oration training to work, “the sheer gall, to stand here and claim some privilege that is not his! I will be giving his mother a call and a sternly-worded warning of his behavior up to this point... and another sternly worded complaint about yours, Catherine. Now I am going to leave this office, and I challenge you to fire me for it.”

Her speech stuns me as she goes on with the insults, the ultimatums, and all the rest while still being a wet, trembling mess. She has willpower... perhaps more than I was ready for. I realize suddenly that maybe the programming for these two has reached an impasse: if Hatts doesn't actually assign a punishment, then Ms. Lia does get to walk, immune to further consequence. I turn to the A.P. and worry I'll find frustration or fear...

... but all I find is a scowl so deep as to seem a mask, a parody of the already-bitter norm for this beast of a woman. “You misunderstand your place, Sophia... and maybe one day I'll tell you how and why.”

Suddenly fearful, Ms. Lia rises to leave-

“But right now, I am going to leave it at an administrative punishment... one I believe will finally cure your perversion and insolence. Mr. Haines, would your mother be opposed to you earning some extra hours this weekend?”

“Not at all,” I honestly reply as I block the door with my body. Ms. Lia, with tears in her eyes, turns and seems to contemplate charging right through me... except, unfortunately for her, the app is already open and on her hotkeys in my pocket. With both hands in my pockets, I tap the Bend Over button until Ms. Lia's bold rise to her feet turns into her about to slam her head against Hatts' desk. Reflexively, her hands save her...

... but all Ms. Hatts sees is a furious Harvard graduate slamming her hands on a superior's desk in a tantrum. A picture frame with a beloved pair of mutts clatters to the ground as it's thrown off the edge. A coffee cup with pencils and pens rattles. Hatts briefly flinches from the surprising sound... and that's all she gives before a bulldog and a bitch lock eyes. I thought Hatts was made before... but the change in her grimace reminds me that the AP's got depths of untested rage to her yet.

“I-I tripped, or- Catherine, please-!”

“That's good, Mr. Haines. Ms. Lia, this is your punishment: first, you will not discipline Mr. Haines or contact his family for any purpose without checking with me first, no matter what his behavior happens to be.” A baffled Ms. Lia stares as Hatts adds, “I'm not going to have you escaping discipline by threatening a student. Second, you will be spending your normal after-school advisement or detention hours to tutor just Mr. Haines here... and during those times, he will pleasure those tits you love so much to his satisfaction.”

Ms. Lia shakes as she tries to ease off the desk, but my button remains firmly pressed. “Wha... Wha...?!”

“Then, this weekend, he will spend as many hours as he wants to earn with you, at whatever hours he chooses, doing the exact same thing wherever he chooses to do it.”

I ease off the Bend Over command. “That's... no... that's not... right! I am a Harvard-!” ... only to apply it again, causing Ms. Lia to slam her hands on the table again as she shrieks her last syllables.

Ms. Hatts eyes threaten to pop out of her head as she deepens from a bright pink to a vermillion no human ought to blush. She loses all pretense of stoic professionalism: her face is a red mask of rage, and she takes Ms. Lia's second slam on her desk as an excuse to rise from her own seat and breath her words into the terrified English teacher's face. “And if you... ever... so much as try to stop whatever schedule he plans or whatever means he uses to maul those things, you fucking Ivy-League princess, or if you ever try to subvert my order again, or ever slam your idiot hands on MY desk again? Well... then Haines here has my permission to escalate your pleasuring however he chooses.”

Neither Sophia nor I are ready for this last command. I'm so stunned I let my finger ease of the Bend Over command, prompting my new plaything to shoot up so fast that her tits nearly bounce out of their too-tight prison. “W-Why are you doing this-?!”

“You'll learn to respect my authority, Sophia,” Hatts explains with a smirk, “and that means respecting my staff, too... even the volunteers from your class.” Ms. Lia and I exchange, briefly, an understanding look that makes her snap back to Hatts as she continues, “This punishment will last until I say it doesn't... except for the disciplinary weekend and tutoring, of course, that's just for this week... or at least it should be. That ball is in your court; fu- mess around and see how much longer it lasts. Have I made myself clear?”

“Y-Yes,” I too eagerly respond, but the AP is too focused on the punishee to catch my enthusiasm.

“I... I...”

“Do you understand me, Sophia?”

Ms. Lia hesitates until her hands begin to lunge at her nipples. “I DO!” Sobbing her answer, she turns from the merciless bulldog and looks to me, perhaps hoping for uncharacteristic leniency, or even disobedience, from her new warden...