Disciplinary Action/Disciplinary Office/First Week/Sex-Ed/Seventh Grade
You walked the short distance from your office to the wing where the older students took classes. The newly renovated wing was used for the elementary school children, while the older kids had to suffer in the monastic cells that pass as classrooms, just like you did in your day.
Ms. Walton’s classroom was strangely quiet as you arrive, and for a moment you fear you lost your way, but as you looked through the small window in the door, you could see the teens working on their desks without making a peep, while Ms. Walton watched from her desk. And looking at the teacher you could imagine why none of the boys were making any fuss.
Ms. Walton was sitting on her desk, in what you could not justify as a decent posture. Her generous breasts looked almost ready to scape her cleavage, and the way she crossed her legs made her tight skirt climb her legs, so her students should be able to almost imagine her panties.
As soon as you knocked she quickly got off her desk, lowered her skirt and closed up her blouse, all in a very fluid manner like she was very used to do that. You managed to see how all the eyes of her students followed her.
“Mr. Gardner!” she exclaimed as she opened the door, visibly surprised to see you, “don’t tell me you need my help with…” she paused, her cheeks gaining a bit of color, before looking back to her classroom, “or are you here for one of my students?”
“No, no,” you assured her, “I just wanted to talk to you about the sex-ed class if you have a moment?”
“The… sex-ed class,” she repeated slowly, while her cheeks turned a bright red and she started fidgeting on her feet, “what… why would you need me?” the way her legs were moving, it almost appeared as if she was trying to rub her tights together, “are you… do you need me to… be a live model… or something?”
“What? No!” was this teacher trying to be seductive or was she really so unaware of her body language? “I wanted to know exactly had been taught in the sex-ed class, I thought you were the one responsible for it.”
Your comment froze Ms. Walton, who finally managed to look you in the eye once more, even if her cheeks remained flushed, “Me? No, no… I wouldn’t know how to deal with that, I can hardly deal with Durai in my own—” she paused, her eyes wide, like she had said too much, “Ms. Carmichael, in fourth grade, she’s the one that deals with that,” she finished, and again lowered her eyes while she moved nervously, but now you didn’t notice the aura of seduction that had previously surrounded her, just honest embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I assumed… since you mentioned something about it when we met…”
“No! No! All I said was I’m glad you’re here, since I wouldn’t be able to do your job—” she cut off again, with the same look of a deer in the highlights, “I have to go back to my class!” she finally said, turning around and entering the classroom.
You followed her through the small window, as she once more sat on the desk and made her class quiet. Impressively enough in a manner of seconds, she had recovered the seductress posture and once again her students her drooling over her while they pretended to work.
Now that she mentioned it, someone had told you she had been offered your position, and after talking with her, you could recognize that it wasn’t only her students that were eating her with their eyes; she was also looking at them with the same hunger. Perhaps you should invite her to help you on some punishments, you doubted she would complain.