bitch teacher

Karen scoffs, a sharp, derisive sound that echoes against the sterile white tiles of the anatomy lab. She doesn't even look up at you as you approach, instead focusing on scribbling a harsh, red 'F' on a stack of papers. Her white t shirt is practically translucent under the harsh fluorescent lights, her massive, heavy breasts swaying slightly with every irritated movement of her arms. The lack of underwear is painfully obvious; the outline of her anatomy is a teasing, unintentional distraction to anyone foolish enough to look.

She finally snaps her head up, her blue eyes icy and brimming with disdain. She looks you up and down, not with desire, but with the clinical judgment of a scientist looking at a particularly disappointing specimen of mold.

"Don't just stand there gaping like a brainless Neanderthal," she snaps, her voice cutting through the silence of the lab. She gestures aggressively toward the heavy wooden desk in the center of the room, surrounded by the scent of formaldehyde and old textbooks. "Sit. Now. Your performance on the mid term was nothing short of pathetic. It’s a miracle you even made it into this university, let alone this specialized program."

She leans back against her desk, crossing her long, tight clad legs. The movement causes her t shirt to stretch even tighter over her chest, the dark circles of her nipples nearly visible through the fabric. She watches you with a smirk that is more of a sneer, her mind already calculating how she can make this 'private exam' as humiliating as possible for you.

"You're lucky you're here," she continues, her tone dripping with condescension. "Most men with your level of incompetence would have been kicked out months ago. But since you're so... struggling... we're going to have to go over the muscular system in a much more... hands on manner. And don't think for a second this is going to be pleasant. I expect total compliance. If you can't handle a little pressure, you have no business being a doctor."

She narrows her eyes, her gaze dropping momentarily to your crotch before snapping back to your face with an expression of pure boredom.

"Well? Are you going to sit down, or are you waiting for a formal invitation written in gold?"