"Why would I put him in my bra?" Andrea complains.
"Everybody knows a girl's bra is just another pocket for things."
"But it's full! I already have my cell phone, lunch money, weed, and next week's history assignment in there! And five is my unlucky number!"
"Kindly talk less so these things will move along faster."
"Fine, if I must," Andrea says, and you are then moved up toward her chest. She is clothed in a floral halter top and denim jacket. You are stuffed underneath them and into her bra, where you come to rest upon her supple breast, snuggled tightly beneath her bra.
"Well, this is a nice change of events," you say as you rub your face into Andrea's breast.
"I'm fifteen," she tells you.
"But I was forced into this position," you announce, ending the argument forever.
Andrea sits back down at her desk, and you remain restrained against her chest, feeling the rhythmic beating of her heart as she and the others pretend to be nonchalant. At the same moment, Ms. J. returns, followed by Mr. Hackett and Ms. Carroll.
"I've put him in the cage that we would keep a guinea pig in if we had any faith in these students to keep it safe and alive," Ms. J. says, leading them to the cage.
"Hrm, smart," Mr. Hackett says. "I like this idea of cages...and students..."
"Ah!" Ms. J. exclaims, seeing only an empty cage. "He was just here! Where could he have gone!"
"Well, he probably could have slipped out of the cage with ease at his size," Ms. Carroll observes.
"That's true," Ms. J. says. "A guinea pig cage is not really suited for someone that small..."
"Nonsense," Mr. Hackett says. "Without doubt, it was the doing of one of these troublemakers!"
"Everyone, empty your pockets!" Ms. Carroll orders.
The students turn their pockets inside out. A zip-lock bag full of marijuana falls from the pocket of the student at the desk in front of Andrea, which Mr. Hackett reaches down to pick up.
"Ah, oregano, huh, Jackson?" he says, handing the bag back to the boy. "It's wonderful to see an aspiring cook in this stew of failures. Hold on to that now."
"Wait," Ms. Carroll says. "Everyone needs to empty all of their pockets. That means, girls..."
"Now, now, Ms. Carroll!" Mr. Hackett intervenes. "As...helpful as that would be, the school would probably face a lawsuit if we demanded our students to expose themselves."
"That...only extends to female students, right?" Ms. J. asks nervously.
Mr. Hackett chuckles and places a large hand on Ms. J.'s shoulder.
"You're a new teacher, so I don't expect you to know everything, Ms. Jorgenson," he answers. "Now, I'm no expert in law, but this school is a devout follower of the indisputable ideology of feminism. Allow me to enlighten you with the fact that there is only one 'gender,' and that is female. However, in the case of the lesser sex, we no longer refer to them as 'male.' The politically correct term is 'subgender.' And, to answer a question you didn't ask, nobody cares about the subgender. So, you have nothing to worry about."
Ms. J. sighs in relief, and Mr. Hackett turns to Ms. Carroll.
"Did I say that correctly?" he asks.
"As well as can be expected," Ms. Carroll responds with a smile.
"What should we do about the missing pervert then, Mr. Hackett?" Ms. J. asks. "He could be back in the hallways, violating our esteemed students!"
"We must not panic," he answers. "I trust our student population to enforce fair and forceful punishment upon that detestable pervert. We should remain calm and collected, but--Ms. Carroll? Please make an immediate announcement over the intercom that anyone bringing the pervert to justice, dead or in pieces, will receive a reward."
"What kind of reward?" a student asks.
"Children should be seen and not heard," Mr. Hackett retorts sternly, glaring at the student. Then, he turns back to the staff. "Any further questions? If I am needed, I will be in the girls' locker room, overseeing the construction of the security cameras being put up for our student population's protection. Please excuse me."
"Keep fighting the Lord's battle!" Ms. Carroll calls after him.
"Amen!" Mr. Hackett replies, pumping his fist.
Ms. Carroll soon leaves the room as well, realizing she has no other purpose for staying.
"Class, I'm going to conveniently leave the room to use the restroom," Ms. J. announces. "Please continue to work on your assignments and stay in your seats!"
As soon as Ms. J. leaves, the students turn their attention to Andrea. Within her bra, you motorboat one last time.
Sounds like my time here is about up, you think.
"The reward is mine," Andrea says, standing up. "He's in my bra!"
"That's not fair!" a student whines. "I always get what I want, and I want that reward!"
A girl nearby reaches out and grabs Andrea's breasts, and the two girls struggle as you find yourself being squeezed and pressed between Andrea's breasts.
"Give him to me!" the girl demands.
"No!" Andrea shouts. "I'm popular and you aren't! Plus my boobs are at least a size bigger than yours!"
"What does that have to do with anything?" a boy whispers to his friend.
"Who knows? They're girls."
You quite enjoy your position during the fight, but you also understand that things will get worse if you don't get away. So, you start to slide yourself down along Andrea's breast, past her history homework, which you notice she will not be getting a good grade on. 'What year was the War of 1812?' Come on! That's a gimme! Once you reach the bottom of her bra, you look down and plan your drop. Then, you slide down her lean stomach to the waistband of her jeans. From there, you strafe along to her back and then climb down her small but firm ass, out of the sight of the other students. You make your way down the leg of her jeans and then drop to the floor. Then, you run, still naked, towards a nearby door.
"Hey! He's escaping!"
The students turn their attention to you just as you reach the door, and you frantically try to squeeze yourself underneath it. You make it to the other side at the same instant that several students jolt to the door and try to grab you.
"Try opening it, dummy," one student says, standing nearby and shaking his head.
Another stands up and tries the handle.
"It's locked, stupid!"
"Where does it go to?"
As you start to run in the dark room past the door, you hear another student answer, "_____."
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