Virus Alert, Part 4.17: Teachers' Study

[WilloWisp]

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Time to take a bit of a breather, because we've got a hike ahead of us.

I've tried to give each season a nice resting point, a bit of marshmallow fluff between the layers of dark chocolate. Not to say there isn't anything important in this episode, but this is one which isn't really heavily tasked, so to speak.

More episodes are on the way: I have been rather prolific recently. Season 4 will be a trial by fire for the story - and no, that's not a clue for anything. I mean that the story itself is going to really be put to the test. I'll continue either way, but there's an upcoming point that has the potential to upset and hurt. Fair warning.

****

I walked down the corridor to the Lounge area. It had been a busy - but rewarding - day, and I was looking forward to some social time with some of the other teachers. And, I thought with a hopeful smile, maybe one or two students. The lounge was generally intended for instructor use, but students were at liberty to make use of anything in the room at their own discretion. It hadn't happened much recently, but students were always fun to visit with. I still held out hope that one of them might eventually ask for some hands-on tutoring, but none of my students had yet shown such interest in extracurricular studying.

I opened the door, crossing my fingers that there might be a student in there just waiting to learn, but was briefly disappointed once again. This was shortlived, though, as I noticed professor Cummings. When she saw me, she put down her book and turned in the plush leather chair to face me. She smiled welcomingly. "Hi Tiffani," she greeted me sweetly sweetly. "How are things in the world of Technique theory?"

I sighed, setting my supplies aside on a nearby table, and seated myself in the opposite chair. "Pam, you've got it lucky. Your students seem to soak up every drop of your Oral Tradition lessons. It's the one area they always get perfect scores on in my class. But when it comes to original composition..." I sighed.

"So the demonstration exercise didn't go so well?" She said, sympathetically.

"It started out promisingly enough. Everybody was paying close attention for the stripping portion, although some of them hadn't quite followed my instructions from yesterday." I felt a little warm just talking about it. "I mean, I can understand a girl not wearing panties if she's got tights or leggings or some kind of hose on, but some of these girls were just going completely commando." I rubbed my neck, my hand drifting down my neckline, then to just above my breasts.

"Okay," I continued, "sure, short skirt with no panties is an acceptable technique for casual seduction, but we're still on striptease and sexual performances, and that means lingerie. A pole dancer doesn't just start her routine completely nude, she works up to it."

"But what about actually getting undressed?" Pam asked.

"Well..." I hesitated. "I don't actually grade on that, since it's too subjective, but I thought a lot of them needed to work on their pace. Ten girls were completely nude before I'd gotten out of my skirt, and three had just gotten their panties off when I was already down to my heels."

"So how did they do for the masturbation part of the lecture?" Pam inquired.

"Good vocalization, passable timing, but a lot of dull performances. For a lot of them it was just finger in, finger out, repeat until you scream. Not one of them decided to follow my example, but not everyone is that flexible, and I don't generally encourage toyplay in the first semester."

I was getting tense. "It's like some of them have no imagination. Like they have to be directly commanded to do anything." I picked up a nearby magazine and flipped idly through it. "I'm sure they're acing their exams in Innovations in Submission, but that only works in my class if another student takes a leadership role."

"Maybe Marilyn's new golden boy will sign up for your course," Pam teased. I laughed, but also felt a little hopeful. That kind of student could really take charge and motivate the other students.

Marilyn poked her head around the doorway to the copy room. "I'd be happy to share him with you, ladies, but I can hardly tell him what classes to take."

I glanced at the clock. "Still working, Marilyn? It's kind of late."

"Oh, just helping one of my students with a project," she said. She gathered up a stack of photocopies, and approached the announcement board, when her phone rang. She nearly threw the stack of papers onto the nearby desk in her haste to answer. "Hello?" Her face brightened. "Why, if it isn't my favorite student!" She said. " We were just talking about you. You know, I wanted to talk to you about a serious discipline problem." A disapproving look crossed her face. "I haven't seen you in any of my classes recently. It was very irresponsible of me to not reschedule them to accommodate you." She grinned playfully, then continued in a sing-song voice, "I think a spanking may be in order."

I was shocked. That wasn't like Marilyn at all. Normally she was right on top of rescheduling her class to better serve honor roll students. She'd really dropped the ball this time. This extra project must really be distracting her, I thought.

"Oh, just up in the teachers' lounge, copying those announcements for you," she continued as I flipped through the magazine. The articles were kind of hard to follow, but I felt like I was right on the edge of understanding them completely. "You know, students can use anything in here whenever they want," she said, invitingly.

She looked across the room at Pam and me. "No," she said, "there are two other teachers here. Professor Pam Cummings and Professor Tiffani Topps." She listened for a few moments. I stared in wonder at the article as its meaning finally and suddenly resolved in my head. How silly of me not to see it before! I must have fluff for brains. "I don't know," Marilyn said, "I'll just ask them." She cupped her hand over the phone. "He wants to know what grade you'll be giving everyone on your next exam."

"I'd say 100%," Pam and I said, almost in unison. That kind of diligence needed to be rewarded.

"Yes, they're ready," Marilyn replied into the phone. A pause, then, "That's understandable. It would probably take ages to taste all of us." She thought for a moment, and an idea seemed to occur to her. "Is there some other distinguishing characteristic? Something that could be observed externally?" An excited shout came over the phone. "Well, thank you Mister Peters, but I'm really not that smart."

My mind wandered while Marilyn listened to the person on the other end of the phone. The frustration of my class made me just want to cut loose and go wild. I thought about giving the Mechanism club a try. Dancing would be a great way to relax, but there was always such a line for the poles. I did have a few outfits I could try out on the solo stage, but I really wanted to get on the two-girl stage again. Maybe Pam would be up for it.

"Birthmarks or tattoos?" Marilyn frowned. "I don't think I've got any birthmarks, and I don't remember getting any tattoos. Nope, haven't noticed them on any of the other girls, but I've only seen about a hundred of them naked." She blinked, and her face took on a neutral expression. "I'm sorry master. My perceptual filter is hard-coded to disregard manufacturer markings. That data is not retained in my drives."

She blinked again, her expression once again warming. "Well, my phone has a camera. I could just send them to you that way." She played with one of her curled bangs. "Absolutely, I'll start with myself and these two, if that's okay." She nodded enthusiastically. "No problem. Every one I see, six shots, boobs, butt, crotch. Got it!"

She closed the phone, then considered Tiffani and me. "Tiff," she decided, "Would you mind taking some pictures of me?" She said, holding out the phone.

Tiffani stood and straightened her already perfect skirt. "Not at all," she said, taking the camera phone. "What do you need?"

"Just a sec," Marilyn said, tugging down her opaque hose. She turned and flipped up her skirt, bending over the back of a nearby chair. "A couple of butt shots, close in," she said. Tiffani nodded and snapped the pics. It was a flawless textbook pose. Marilyn could teach my students a thing or two.

She turned to face her volunteer photographer, bundling up her skirt to show her pussy. "Two of the front, she said, looking down. "One from about here down," she said, pointing to a spot between her navel and crotch. The phone made its clicking noise and Marilyn shifted position, bringing her left knee up and spreading wide to show her glistening lips. "And one including the inner thigh, here." She indicated the spot, and was rewarded with the sound of another image being recorded.

She let her skirt drop, then pulled her silk blouse up to her chin. "Boobs next, front-on, then angled up from below." Her red leather corset gleamed a reflection as the camera flashed the first shot of her exposed titties. I made a mental note to ask about corsets the next time I went to the lingerie store.

"What next?" Pam asked, eager to help.

"Next, he'll need pictures of you," Marilyn replied, taking the phone back, "so let's get that outfit off of you."

I raised an eyebrow. "He?" I asked. I narrowed my eyes. "Is this for that student's project that has you so distracted lately?"

"Probably," said Marilyn as she helped Pam out of her skirt, "but he just told me to take the pictures. He didn't tell me why." She pulled Pam's red lace panties down her sculpted legs. Upon noticing they were crotchless, she smacked her forehead. "Now why didn't I think of that?" She asked.

"Where are the scissors?" She said, pulling her pantyhose back down. I passed them to her from the nearby table, and she neatly snipped the gusset out of the garment. "Much better," she said, pulling her hose back up and lifting her skirt to admire the job. "How does it look from behind, Tiff?"

"Very spankable. You see, Pam, that's the kind of thinking I wish I could get from my students."

She laughed at this. "In first semester Technique? That's something they might pick up in Intro to Fetish Wardrobe or Slutting It Up 201. You can't expect that from freshmen students." She had stripped completely nude, her clothes in a pile at her feet. "So, Marilyn, pictures?"

"Sorry," Marilyn said, slightly abashed, "I got distracted there for a moment." She dropped her skirt back down and held up the camera again. "First, the ass."

Marilyn walked Pam through each of the poses, making certain to frame each shot just right. When they were done, Pam stood at loose attention. "Anything else?"

"Just one thing," said Marilyn,"turn around again for me." Pam turned as instructed, facing away from her. "I'm supposed to do a Process 12 on you." Marilyn licked her thumb. "Bend over."

Pam obeyed without hesitation, resting her head and arms on the nearby desk, She looked back at Marilyn quizzically. "What's a process 12?"

"This," replied Marilyn calmly, suddenly jamming her thumb and forefinger into Pam's rear. Pam squirmed, letting out a happy moan.

"Oooh," she sighed. Her expression was one of absolute bliss. "Ah! Yes! I'm property! An unthinking object!" Pam was such a romantic at heart. So sweet. "Command me, master! Please tell me what to-" She broke off as a surprised expression froze on her face. She stood bolt upright, her arms fixed at her sides. I heard a *click* noise from somewhere. Marilyn reached up, gently stroking Pam's hair, then clasped her hand on the top of Pam's head and pulled open the cartridge compartment on the inert data archive storage device.

She quickly pulled out all three of the device's backup cartridges, before the device's upper mechanism pivoted to provide access to its drive bay. I heard another *click* sound, this time from the direction of Marilyn. She reached up to her forehead, grasping at some protrusion, and the integrity verification device peeled down the flexible, rubbery covering which protected its own drive bay.

I watched, fascinated by the engineering which went into the construction of such sophisticated machines. The integrity verifier set straight to work, its manipulator arm moving smoothly, almost lifelike, inserting a cartridge into its own bay. "Scanning cartridge, scan canceled," it announced. "Overwrite transfer required component, LoverToy to backup cartridge. Warning, this component will replace core-level components. Do you wish to continue yes," it rambled.

By this point the data archive device must have timed out. Its drive interface was revolving back around to provide access to the cartridge compartment once again, while the cartridge drive on the verifier clicked and whirred. Soon it ejected the cartridge, returning it to its position within the cartridge compartment with an efficient sequence of movements using its manipulator.

The verifier device repeated the process two more times, restoring the other two corrupted backups. Good. This LoverToy thing sounded important. If it wasn't installed on the backup cartridges, a restore could cause serious problems. Finally, it rolled the flexible covering back over it's drive.

Marilyn wiped her brow, the restore process apparently completed. I hadn't really caught what she was doing to restore the archive's backups, but was grateful she had been on hand to help with the maintenance of the device. She reached up to close the compartment, pushing it into place with a *snap* sound, delicately stroking Pam's luxurious hair.

"All finished," she said.

Pam hugged her. "Oh, thank you so much! I hope I was of some help with your student's project." She gathered up some papers. "Well, I've got a tutoring session I need to get to. Best of luck!" She called. I watched her shapely ass as she strode quickly down the hall. She should go nude more often, I thought to myself, it looks good on her, especially with those shoes.

I turned back to face Marilyn. "So," I said, trying not to sound overeager, "My turn?"

[NukuNookee]

I know you were mentioning this earlier, but it is very nice the way you handled the buildup here, and the ending is classic. May not be as erotic as other sections, but definitely has it's stimulating storytelling....

[WilloWisp]

May not be as erotic as other sections...

Would someone please draw me a graph of the relative eroticism of each chapter so far? It seems that I have very different ideas about what contributes to erotic levels.

[NukuNookee]

May not be as erotic as other sections...

Would someone please draw me a graph of the relative eroticism of each chapter so far? It seems that I have very different ideas about what contributes to erotic levels.

Maybe I should have said "blatantly sexual" instead of "erotic".

[xBOT]

Bahhh. I decided to try and crack the password and I'm starting to wonder if you just find some pleasure in depriving me of sleep.

[WilloWisp]

One of these days I'll have to create a list of like the hottest 100 scenes or moments in Virus Alert. Might be useful for your future writings.

I'll have to actually write 100 scenes or moments sexy enough to be worth noting first.

[WilloWisp]

6. Berserk androids killing, ripping themselves open, attacking people: 1 Why? Because its not sexy. Its probably not meant to be. Its storyline addition as far as I'm concerned. For example in story 4.00 the sudden shift from the secretary dismantling herself (wanted more detail but still hot and funny) to the sudden attack by librarians sharply shifted my enjoyment.

It's something I have to include at least once from a human perspective, if for no other reason than to clearly communicate the scale of the threat - Showing it just from the perspective of sleepers or infected 'bots communicates it partially, but is too subtle to effectively emphasize what's going on. I can promise that it won't be explicitly described very much, and will never be gratuitous. In 4.00, I went out of my way to mostly just state that there was carnage and violence, only directly describing it once. Even in that description, I tried to keep the violence to a minimum, softening the blow with A) Malfunction-like sleeper-indicative dialogue from the infected bot, B) Casual removal of the face layer on the attacked girl, and C) Casual partial disassembly via the right eye data port.

Hypothetical scenario: What if rampaging androids violently damage sleepers, but the sleepers' reaction is incongruously nonchalant, or malfunctioningly flirtatious?

[WilloWisp]

Hypothetical scenario: What if rampaging androids violently damage sleepers, but the sleepers' reaction is incongruously nonchalant, or malfunctioningly flirtatious?

You did that back in 2.83

I didn't really consider Ashley's actions to be violent - Susan's perception of Ashley's behavior was accurate. She wasn't filtering some kind of disassembly or dismemberment as a sexual act. No part of Ashley's programming was intentionally preventing a search or incapacitating Heather. It was all accidental due to hardware damage suffered by the electrical discharge.

Example: "Joan lay on top of me touching my face and as she caressed it I saw her remove some sort of rubbery covering I wasnt aware of previously. I went temporarily blind in ecstasy as I felt her fingers on my face near my eyes and cooed, "Oh baby, touch me more!"

Joan would never do that. <- This is a joke, not a clue. Honest.

In all seriousness, I don't think the 'bot would even recognize that the rubbery thing came off her own face. It would be more along the lines of "remove the rubbery thing she had used to wipe my face," retroactively inserting it into her perception of previous events.

Or even imagine the comic element of having a bot pulled apart at the waist and not realizing it thinks her lover is about to go down on her.

This is tricky to pull of from a first person perspective in such a way that it presents the distorted perception of the bot, while simultaneously communicating to the reader the reality of the situation. Perhaps if the lover were human, and triggered the disconnect verbally or something.