Melissa waited in the charter school secretary's reception office in her dark blue dress-for-success confident business suit and confidential slightly uncomfortable professional underwear. She wore just enough makeup, was clean inside and out, and felt as nervous as a 22-year-old English teacher on her 5th job interview.
The brand-new leather portfolio on her lap gave her something to look at as she sweated (slightly) waiting for the man who had gone in before her, interviewing for "her" position. Why does this bra feel so damn itchy and tight and how do I have wedgie just sitting here? she wondered, painfully aware of the hard wooden seat beneath her ballet trained posterior.
She regretted wearing lace even though it made her feel more grown-up, hence, confident. The male competition came out of the conference room, looking red faced, flustered, and sweaty. Well, that didn't go well, she told herself, feeling a swelling hope in her own prospects and wondering nervously at the same time what had gone wrong for him.
She mentally high-fived herself and smiled charmingly at the serious looking man who came out next and invited her into the conference room for her more successful (hopefully) attempt at getting a job. "Good morning, Miss Murphy. Please follow me," he said in deep oddly penetrating voice which gave Melissa a sudden strange sense that she wanted and needed only to obey him.
She popped to her feet, dropped her portfolio, bent over to pick it up, and knew she had given him a nice glimpse of her cleavage without really meaning to. Her C-cup boobs got her much male attention but sometimes were trouble makers and a virginal blush reddened the milky freckled skin of her sweet Irish face. He smiled unembarrassed when she caught his appreciative look at her round rebel breasts. She lowered her eyes demurely, pretending not to notice that he had noticed, and walked into the room ahead of him.
A principal and assistant principal-both female, a big football coach, and two other men sat at the table and greeted her with names she immediately forgot in her excitement. She perched on the edge of her chair and answered their questions in a bright confident voice until the man who had greeted her (and her boobs) said at last, "We would like to make you an offer of employment today after we have a chance to further evaluate your personality and motivation."
"That's wonderful," she chirped eagerly. "What would you like to see?" she offered her portfolio to him.
"We have already reviewed your written credentials," the man said. "Now we will evaluate you. Are you able to touch your toes while standing without bending your knees?"
The strangeness of the request made Melissa furrow her brow a bit, but she stood up immediately and bending from the waist, managed easily to do what he had asked in her tight new business suit, not too low-cut blouse, and four inch heels. She remained in that position for several seconds, her curly red hair hanging down near her feet in a ponytail.
"You may stand up," he said. She did so noticing she felt very relaxed, her face slightly reddened from being upside down. "Your shoes and suit are very professional and appropriate for a job interview but you seem uncomfortable in them. Is that true?" he told her as a question. She nodded. "You may remove them."
Melissa stepped out of her black pumps which now felt tight and stood calmly in her new black stockings. Then she undid the buttons of her jacket and draped it carefully on the back of her chair. She hesitated a moment and the principal stood, walked behind her and unzipped her skirt for her. She shimmied out of it gracefully and placed the skirt over her jacket. She worried dimly about wrinkles.
She stood in front of the interview committee in her best professional underwear, black stockings with an old fashioned garter belt and a matching black lace bra and pantie set. She removed her white blouse and placed it neatly with her suit on the back of her chair.
"Now you may present a lesson on a subject of your choice," the man with the deep voice told her.
"I would like to wear my shoes," said the 5'2" prospective teacher, uncertainly. "I like to feel taller." Being dressed only in lingerie in front of strangers seemed natural to her under hypnosis, but Melissa liked her heels and the extra height they gave her. She always stood straight, chest out, and heels are a short girl's friend.
"Of course," he said in a friendly voice. The others smiled encouragement as she stepped back into her pumps and clicked carefully across the hardwood floor to a white board in front of the room. The shoes made her butt (barely covered by the lack lace of her panties) arch nicely and her legs look sculpted. She knew high heels made her look sexier but was unaware how sexy she looked in her present state of dress. She was giving a practice English lesson! Showing off four years of college and hours in front of mirrors and other young teachers! The interviewing committee, however, was completely aware of Miss Melissa Murphy's cute and eager maturity.
Melissa wrote Miss Murphy on the white board with a red dry erase marker neatly and clearly, stretching as close to the top as she could, then next to it the date and her lesson objective, "The students will be able to use exclamation points to enliven their writing." She wasn't crazy about using a red marker but it was the only one on the ledge beneath the board. The committee members watched the lovely young woman as she stretched and reached in her underwear innocent of the effect she was having on them.
"When I want to SAY something with force and emotion, I raise my voice or change my tone of voice. When I write, I can't really do that, so I use the exclamation point to show force or emotion when I write. Could one of you SAY a sentence with strong emotion as an example?" she asked in a teacher voice with nervous confidence.
"Ouch, my bra is too tight!" said the man with the strange voice. Suddenly, her breasts began to swell and the lace fabric felt itchy and tight against her skin. She wrote the sentence hurriedly on the board as her C-cups swelled suddenly to D-cups and the bra seemed to cut into her skin. She undid the clasp behind her back and dropped her new lace bra carelessly to the floor. Her newly swollen boobs were now exposed to the "class" and there were drops of white fluid leaking from her nipples.
She flushed, vaguely embarrassed, but continued to teach her lesson. "You can use the exclamation point to give directions. Can you think of an example?"
"Come here right now and suck my breasts!" he said forcefully.
She smiled and wrote the sentence below the first one, turned to the class and repeated it. "Very good example," she reinforced his input as two of the men followed the imperative, came to her, and began to slowly suck the hypnotically induced milk from her swollen breasts as she moaned and smiled with pleasurable relief stroking their hair like a very happy and maternal teacher. After several minutes, Melissa thanked them and they returned to their seats feeling content.
"Good job on participation!" she wrote on the board as the saliva and milk on her erect nipples dried in the cool air.
She turned and beamed at the class. "Any more examples?" she asked triumphantly. The lesson was working!
"Look at my red pubic hair!" the man said. Melissa copied and punctuated his sentence on the board.
She then pushed down her panties and gracefully stepped out of them facing her class proudly, calmly brushing the trimmed red tuft between her legs with her fingers. "Good job! Now give a direction to someone else in the class!"
