Ms. Olvia stood up. The only person wearing something not made from latex. A conservative and too-tight skirtsuit of polyester and cotton. Her waist cinched by something covered. Her heels low and practical. Her glasses just bringing attention to her piercing, no-nonsense stare. As those eyes settled on Karyn and Jen, the two girls felt a shiver go down their backs. Dread? Fear? Whatever it was, it definitively didn't make anything expand.
"Cheermistress McMillan tells me you two are violating the compact," Ms Olvia said, her voice paralyzing. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"
Jen turned to Karyn, but her girlfriend's stare was squarely centered on the teacher's eyes. She seemed captivated.
"I... we um--"
"Silence!" Ms Olvia cut through with a quiet voice. The classroom was eerily silent, still. Every other student still and standing like statues made of rubber. "And is that the right way to stand for a cheerslave? Black, Madison, what is this? You know how to stand. Do it. Now."
Suddenly Jen felt something tickle in the back of her head. Her uniform seemed... to tighten, but that passed. The tickling in her head started getting unbearable. "Karyn... I-- agh! Do you feel that?" Jen turned, confused. Karyn was suddenly standing with head bowed, legs akimbo, and hands demurely interlocked behind her back. Her chest pushed forward, as if presenting herself for inspection. "Karyn?"
"We must do as the teacher says, Jen," Karyn whispered dispassionately. "We must stand like cheerslaves."
The tickling intensified. Jen turned, and saw Karyn's eyes were... faraway.
Quickly, she turned her gaze towards the teacher. And let her head continue onwards to a corner of the room. Jen had suddenly realised how that could've been a massive mistake.
"Tsk, tsk," Ms Olvia said.
"See, Ms Olvia? They're not behaving as they should! Not even in their right cheer uniforms. The ones I handmade for them. My darlings... they're not right, Ms Olvia. I am worried for them."
Jen didn't dare look at the two. Just wondered how she could get herself and Karyn out of this situation, but her body refused to move.
"You are right, Cheermistress McMillan. This needs some investigating. Perhaps your, eh, darlings need a correction. Have you thought about that?"
"A correction?" The tone in Sarah's voice wasn't worried, wasn't aghast. It was joyful. Predatory.
