This choice: A teacher's pet tries to cover Ms. Lane, but her clothes are stripped too. • Go Back...Chapter #5A teacher's pet tries to cover Ms. Lane, bu... by: EUFer   “Uh…Ms. Lane," a squeaky voice from the front row piped up.
“Oh no,” thought Dawn. Myrtle – also known as Myrtle the Nerdal – was trying to throw a wrench into her stripping plans. Myrtle was the class’s teachers’ pet. Always grade grubbing, the mousy girl had no problem brown nosing her way to the top. If there was an extra credit project, Myrtle was doing it; if the school had a recycling drive, Myrtle was the one volunteering to head it. The Nerdal was always trying to improve her school transcript to get into a good college. Ironically, those efforts are in vain, because her strict conservative parents were never going to allow their sheltered daughter to be exposed to the teaching of those evil liberal professors at most universities and corrupt Myrtle with their Marx-worshipping ways. Everyone knew that Myrtle was going to get shipped off to some unaccredited fundamentalist university in the middle of nowhere in which co-ed students had to be chaperoned if they went off of campus and theories on evolution were mysteriously nonexistent in the biology books – well, everyone knew that except Myrtle. Social intelligence was not her strong suit.
Myrtle jumped up and stood behind Ms. Lane, awkwardly trying to cover the teacher’s panty-clad bottom with her own body. “Uh…Ms. Lane,” Myrtle sheepishly said again.
“What?! Myrtle?!” Ms. Lane brusquely said. “Why are you out of your seat?” The teacher turned around with an air of annoyance.
Myrtle leaned in. “Uh…Ms. Lane. Your panties are, um, showing.” The Nerdal whispered to the teacher, however, loud enough that the students could hear. A few people in the classroom giggled.
“Myrtle, sit down or I’m sending you to the principals office!”
“I’m not lying. Your underwear is showing.” The irony was that Myrtle seemed to be the one who was embarrassed.
Dawn was growing impatient with the exchange. Myrtle, while not evil, was annoying, and she was definitely screwing up Dawn’s modus operandi with regard to Ms. Lane’s sexy behind. “Hmm,” thought the neophyte witch. Dawn was never dressed to impressed. Today she had on an unflattering jean skirt and a baggy red sweater. Nobody really knew what The Nerdal’s figure looked like since she always wore such ill-fitting clothes. “Perhaps I’ll change that,” thought Dawn. She recalled seeing some sort of magic in her book regarding matter displacement – or in laymen’s terms, resizing. Dawn causally thumbed through the book. “Interdimensional Warping – no; Meteo – no, I’m not trying to take revenge on Golbez – Repel Undead…no….Ahh here we go, size displacement.”
“Dawn, take you’re seat now!” Ms. Lane was beginning to yell at Myrtle.
“But Ms. Lane!”
Dawn said a few words under her breath: “Nicto, Jimbo, Tighto, Skirto.” Myrtle’s face was starting to become flushed from being scolded by Ms. Lane. Unbeknownst to the girl, her ankle-length jean skirt began fluttering. With a “SRRRRR” sound, the garment closed in. The bell of Myrtle’s skirt tightened from a sloppy A shape into a pencil skirt shape, wrapping itself tightly around her legs.
Myrtle looked down at her lower half and gave an “eek” sound from her pouty lips. The rest of the class laughed, though they didn’t all quite see what happened. They were just amused by Myrtle’s reaction. Hurriedly, Dawn whispered, “Nicto, Jimbo, Raiseo, Skirto.” For a moment, the sound of stressing fabric echoed through the room, and in the matter of two seconds, the hemline on Myrtle’s skirt shot up, stopping just above the girl’s knees. She covered her mouth with both hands. This is the most skin the dorky girl has ever shown in public. “It’s about to get worse,” thought Dawn.
“Nicto, Kerney, Tighto, Topo” Dawn focused her magical energies on Myrtle’s baggy sweater. The helpless girl just stood with her hands over her mouth. Ms. Lane had stopped yelling and was fixated on what was taken place in front of her own eyes. Even the class was too awe-struck to speak. The folds in Dawn’s top began straightening out. The bottom of the sweater pulled taut across her stomach. The sound of contorting cotton filled the room. The sweater took on a tapered shape, showcasing an hourglass figure. As the top portion hugged Myrtles chest, it became apparently, perhaps for the first time, that she was around a C-cup.
“Nicto, Nelson, Shrinko, Sleeveso.” With her hands still firmly placed over her mouth, Myrtle looked down to see the sleeves of her sweater begin to recess from around her wrists. The red arms crept up past her elbows, and continued their ascent, finally disappearing into the shoulders of the garment. The Nerdal looked down to survey herself. Her sweater had been tightened into a sleeveless top and she was now wearing a short jean skirt. And the clothing transformation revealed that, aside from a little baby fat, Myrtle had a banging body! Largely ignored or ridiculed her entire high school career, who knew that Myrtle the Nerdal was secretly a hottie underneath those frumpy clothes?
Ms. Lane shook her head in disbelief. One of the boys in the class made a cat call. Myrtle was clearly uncomfortable with showing her body. “This won’t do,” thought Dawn, “This may actually make Myrtle popular. I’m gonna have to go all the way and shrink those clothes off of that cute little body she has been hiding all these years.”
“Nicto, Buzz, Shrinko, Topo,” Dawn applied the most mystical force possible to the incantation. The class gasped as they watched the bottom hem of Myrtle’s sweater begin to rise - up over her belt line, exposing her inny bellybutton. The sounds of stressed seams started at irregular intervals.
“Oh, no!” Myrtle cried out. The sweater ripped part way up her back to give itself more room. The top of the garment squeezed Myrtles’s tits. As it compressed on her chest, the raised outline of her bra became salient under the overstretched fabric. It was clearly visible that Myrtle was wearing a full-cup brassiere – as if anyone actually thought The Nerdal would be risqué to wear a demi or balcony bra. The girl’s face blushed even redder than when it was when she was telling Ms. Lane about her panties.
Dawn seized this chance of chaos to make some quick work of Myrtle’s skirt. “Nicto, Jimbo, Raiseo, Skirto.” The denim garment shook for a moment, before the hemline shot up once again. This time, only about three inches in length remained of her skirt. Myrtle jumped back with a yelp upon seeing that the latest shrinkage had exposed her inner-thigh and the crotch of her white panty briefs. Meanwhile, the girl’s sweater began to shrink. The diminishing size of the top, coupled with the outward force of her big tits began straining the neck, busting its elasticity. Myrtle knew this would provide a bottleneck in the top, soon allowing a rip to form a straight line down to her heaving bosom.
“Nicto, Jimbo, Bursto, Skirto,” Dawn decided to finish off Myrtle’s bottom. The denim garment condensed around the distressed girl. The seams up the side split, exposing more of her hips and panties. Within a few moments, the skirt signaled its death throes and burst, languidly falling away from Myrtle’s hips.
The girl shrieked. She looked like such a hussy in her panties with a sweater that had risen so high and squeezed around her tits to the point of just being a halter-top. A V slit had already formed in the neck and the remains of her sweater hugged her tits so tightly that the exact shape and density of her bra was visible. Not that it mattered anyways – the class was about to see Myrtle the Nerdal in full undies mode very shortly. It was clear what type of teacher’s pet Myrtle was…or at least what type she looked like: A sex kitten.
Before suffering the final embarrassment, Myrtle tried to do what she should have done much earlier: run! As she began to take a step, Dawn wiggled her nose, ala Samantha from Bewitched, and Myrtle’s feet stayed planted firmly on the floor. “I can’t move!” she cried out. The all-too familiar sound of ripping fabric began once more. The V slit on her sweater-halter split down about a half an inch, exposing some of the smooth white cups of her bra. Myrtle reached up to cover her chest, only to have Dawn wiggle her nose again and push the girl’s arms away. The slit continued to rip deeper and wider, revealing more of the milky white brassiere’s cups and wide gourd. The split up the back of the garment widened upwards as the force of her tits split the pathetic piece of fabric open in the front. The force of the popping sweater caused Myrtle’s throbbing tits to briefly shake.
The girl stood humiliated in front of the classroom, clad only in her white, full coverage briefs and white bra.
Dawn, smiled. Now it was time to…
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