An important message for readers

The story is strictly for adults.

If you feel objectionable to sexual content, my personal request will be not to read the story.

This story is written on a sensitive topic - which may not be acceptable to everyone. The relationship, feelings or situations here are made in the shadow of imagination, but some readers' discomfort may arise.

However, the purpose of this writing is not to hurt anyone-what has been told in the range of the story is the only manifestation of literary imagination and feeling.

If you believe in open thoughts, respect the differences, and think that there is a place for freedom in literature - then we can take the story together.

And if such things seem uncomfortable or offensive to you, then you have the freedom to avoid the story. I will just request that if you don't want to read the story, don't read.

But if you read, you will gradually discover that this story is very emotional and heart warming. 💓💓💓

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At Pratapnagar Girls' High School, a young temporary teacher has just been appointed-Anurag Bandopadhyay, the chemistry teacher. In a girls' school, classes are generally conducted by lady teachers, but occasionally, in special cases, male teachers are seen as well. And this time, it seems that someone truly special has arrived, stirring a quiet storm throughout the school.

Inside the eleventh-grade classroom, a hushed excitement had begun brewing among the girls-whispers and secretive chatter.

- "I've heard our new sir is very handsome!" Anwesha said with a giggle.

- "Handsome? That's an understatement! You can't take your eyes off him!" replied Baishali, as if he looked more stunning than any movie or series hero.

Riya asked in surprise, "Where did you all get this information? You haven't even seen him yet, have you?"

Megha answered, "Not me-Shubhra told me. Apparently, he came to their class. She said she's never seen such a good-looking man in her life! Fair complexion, long neck, perfectly clean-shaven face, sharp jawline, broad shoulders, athletic body, hot figure, tall build, and shiny silky hair!"

Riya burst out laughing, "Oh wow! All the qualities in one person? Sounds like a prince straight out of a fairytale! And look at you-your description sounds like something out of a romance novel!"

The other girls laughed along at her comment.

Megha chuckled shyly and said, "Hey, I'm just repeating what Shubhra told me!"

Almost the entire class was now buzzing with gossip and stories centered around the new sir.

Suddenly, Tanwi spoke up emotionally, "Uff! Just hearing about sir gives me such a weird feeling inside..."

Her words made the girls laugh even louder.

They filled the classroom with excitement, giggles, and wild imaginations colored in dreamy hues.

At that moment, however, one girl remained absolutely silent.

Sneha. She was lying against the bench beside them, resting her heavy chest and head. She heard everything they were saying, silently, without any reaction on her face. Her eyes had a distant, distracted look.

Holding her heavy breasts up on the front of the bench, she seemed to be immersed in her own private world-quiet, still... and yet caught in a swirl of deep thoughts.

Sneha's physical form was, in a word, unique. Her body was tall and relatively slender, as if each joint in her skeletal frame had been delicately arranged. But what stood out the most was the shape of her breasts-disproportionately large compared to the rest of her body, creating a certain imbalance. Because of this unusual build, she often suffered physical discomfort.

While walking, she frequently felt strain in her back and had to hunch forward to maintain balance. If she stood or walked for too long, she would get breathless from fatigue, as if the weight on her chest made it hard to breathe. She also had a congenital breathing disorder.

During breaks, she tried to rest as much as possible-leaning back against the bench, relieving the pressure from her chest, and taking a breath of solace. These moments were her own-quiet and peaceful.

But outsiders saw things differently. Many formed the wrong impression about her, assuming Sneha was a "sexy" type of girl. In reality, she was quite the opposite-extremely shy, reserved, and well-mannered. Her demeanor was gentle, her behavior courteous, and her nature imbued with a quiet dignity.

Sneha's physique always placed her in a strange dilemma. In the eyes of others, she appeared to be a dream-like beauty, with breasts that many would call "attractive." Yet that very beauty felt to her like an unwanted burden. On her otherwise slim body, the imbalance was a constant source of exhaustion.

Since ninth grade in high school, this discomfort had haunted her. Classmates' mockery, sudden shameless stares, or unwanted attention-all of it made her retreat further into her shell. Even when she wanted to, she couldn't stand up straight. In trying to conceal her chest, she seemed to suppress her self-confidence too-year after year.

Sneha had been sickly since childhood. She was born with malnutrition.

From birth, she was physically weak.

Even now, after so many years, she remained a fragile girl, easily tired. Her body was thin and slight, except for one area that had changed-her breasts. All the fat in her body seemed to have accumulated there.

The snide remarks of classmates, the lustful glances of men on the street, physical weakness, introverted nature, back pain, shoulder strain, the fear of losing balance while walking-all these combined to make her days a kind of silent battle. And yet, she never shared these struggles with anyone. Because she knew that if she spoke of her pain, many might respond not with empathy, but with curiosity-or worse, vulgar imagination.

Sneha was quiet and didn't mix much with others.

She was an extremely introverted girl. As a result, she had no friends.

But deep down, she longed for someone who would be her friend-someone with whom she could share everything in her heart.

Whenever someone tried to befriend her, a soft light seemed to glow within Sneha. She would smile and speak-and in those moments, it became clear how innocent, simple, kind-hearted, gentle, and deep the girl behind that "hot" body truly was.

Amidst all the gossip among the girls about the new handsome teacher,

Sneha sat beside them, silently leaning back, resting her heavy breasts on the bench in front of her, lost in her own world.

Suddenly, Megha's eyes fell on Sneha.

In a hushed excitement, she said, "Look, look... look at her."

At her words, Ria and the other girls turned toward Sneha.

They all giggled behind their palms, and some gave teasing glances.

Sneha caught the sharpness in their gaze. She remained silent, as if she already knew-this laughter wasn't just about her body, it was about her very existence.

Ria sneered, "So are you going to stay like that even when sir comes in?"

There was mockery in her voice and a kind of scorn in her eyes.

Sneha's face turned red. She lowered her head in embarrassment.

It wasn't as though she had chosen to be born with such a body.

She was only a teen, yet certain parts of her body-especially her breasts-had developed more than usual. This made her the constant target of stares and whispers from her classmates, making her feel deeply uncomfortable.

She didn't know why her body was like this, or why, at such a young age, she had become an object-of curiosity to some, jealousy to others, and silent attraction to yet others.

Just then, Sir walked into the classroom. He was startled and visibly embarrassed to see Sneha sitting on the bench in such a posture, her chest lifted onto the desk.

Sir stopped in his tracks, eyes momentarily fixed on Sneha.

Sneha stood up hastily, flustered. As she did so, her breasts moved slightly. Sir noticed it-unintentionally.

The rest of the class also stood up. A brief moment of silence settled as the teacher entered.

Sir gave the class a quick glance and asked everyone to sit.

He was handsome, articulate, confident. Students often whispered about him-some saw him as a dream man, others as a professor out of fantasy.

But today, his attention lingered on Sneha.

Though he was a well-educated, sophisticated man of good character, there was no vulgarity in his gaze. Still, eyes are drawn by curiosity at times-especially when a young girl stands before you, one whose physical development seems unusually advanced for her age.

Sir was taken aback.

Not out of lust-no, it was a sort of scientific, human astonishment.

"At this age, such a figure?"-the thought crossed his mind, but not from a place of depravity.

Sneha was different-not just because of her quiet nature or behavior. Her body seemed to grow at its own pace, from her flowing hair down to the curves of her waist. There was an effortless grace about her form-something that caught the eye even if one tried not to notice.

To think Sir was a man of high morals would not be wrong-but he was also human. A man. With eyes. With questions.

"How can such a thin, frail girl have such a developed bust?"

He quickly composed himself.

Sir began by introducing himself to the class in a very simple manner.

But our enthusiastic students had much more to learn about their new chemistry teacher.

Then he called roll. After taking attendance, Sir asked some girls their names and a little about themselves.

Yet, oddly, he didn't have the courage to ask Sneha anything. That was strange. Never before had he felt hesitant to ask a student a question. But why Sneha?

For some reason, he just couldn't shake off the image of Sneha's strange, mature body from his mind.

And to make matters worse, Sneha was sitting on the front bench-right in his direct line of sight.

He silently composed himself. Turning his back to the class, he began writing on the board, trying to erase the earlier awkwardness through complex formulas and academic rigor.

Still, a lingering hesitation sat at the edge of his vision.

Whenever his eyes wandered toward the front bench, he felt an odd pull in his chest-a subtle, unspoken response. His gaze always seemed to settle on one specific part of Sneha's body-her breasts.

It felt like they were leaning forward, pulling attention toward them in a quiet, uncontrollable way.

Again and again, he forced himself to look away-at his notebook, at the chalk in his hand-but the tension wouldn't fade.

Sneha, too, could feel the discomfort.

There were no words for it-only a physical unease, a whisper in her nerves that alerted her body moment by moment.

Today, every girl in the classroom was attentively listening to Sir.

Whether or not they were truly invested in the subject, his elegant face, commanding build, and refined voice created a magnetic charm.

Such a teacher wasn't seen every day.

They stared at him as if a mythical god had stepped into their classroom-his strong frame, chiseled jawline, and the soft yet firm cadence of his speech made every word seem perfect.

They listened in awe. Poor girls-most of their lives had been filled with female teachers.

So today, no one wanted to miss a word from this striking new Sir.

Even the other girls couldn't help but notice how Sir glanced at Sneha from time to time and then quickly looked away in embarrassment.

When he awkwardly diverted his gaze from her, some students exchanged mischievous glances.

Some enjoyed the moment, while others-especially Ria-began to seethe with envy.

Ria, who had always blamed her own physical shortcomings on Sneha's beauty, now felt that sting of inferiority even more deeply.

Her hatred for Sneha grew stronger in her heart.

So, along with her group, she started whispering malicious things about Sneha once again.

"She's already trying to seduce Sir from the first day! What a disgusting girl! I can't even stand to look at her!"

Sneha could still hear the echoes of Ria's whispering in her mind.

Her body had once again become a "spectacle"-something she never asked for, something she never wanted.

This body wasn't shaped by her will-she had no say in it.

Yet, it had become the subject of unwanted attention, of unsolicited gossip.

Every tiny sound in the classroom, every breath, seemed to settle heavily upon her chest.

To be continued...

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Anurag Sir finished his lesson. With a cheerful smile, he looked at the class and asked, "Did you like the lesson?"

The girls, already captivated by his graceful appearance, clear pronunciation, and confident personality, all responded together, "We loved it, Sir!"

But Sir noticed-there was one girl whose face didn't reflect that same enthusiasm. Sneha. She seemed somewhat serious, a little reserved. A faint sense of discomfort stirred in Sir's mind-for some reason, it felt like his very presence might be making Sneha uneasy.

All the girls here were students of a strictly protected all-girls school, where male teachers were a rare sight. So perhaps seeing someone like him teach for the first time was making her feel a bit awkward. Still, Sneha stood out-she seemed more sensitive than the others; there was a depth in her eyes, a kind of shy gentleness mixed with mystery.

One possible reason for Sneha's sensitivity might be her unique physical build-her bony frame and disproportionately large chest. Sneha wasn't like most other girls; she was a bit different. Sir quietly admitted to himself-this girl would inevitably draw the gaze of any man. And whoever ends up walking through life with her would need to love and protect her dearly.

Toward the end of the class, Sir asked a few students some questions about the lesson, noting their names and roll numbers. Then, suddenly, he said, "You there, please stand up."

He had asked Sneha to stand.

Some of the girls smirked and giggled quietly the moment Sneha rose to her feet. Her breasts jiggled slightly as she stood-because they were so large, even a small movement of her body caused noticeable motion. Sir noticed the movement. Poor Sir, what could he do? He averted his gaze for a moment but ultimately found himself looking at her again. The girls seemed to enjoy the moment even more.

Sneha always felt awkward while speaking to boys or men. She had always been like that-naturally shy. Perhaps it had something to do with her physical appearance, especially the size of her chest. But more than that, it came from within. Sneha had always been an introvert, someone who kept to herself.

Sir asked her a couple of questions related to the lesson. Sneha answered in a soft, respectful tone, beautifully. That gentle voice seemed to leave a mark on Sir's heart. Though the girl looked undeniably attractive, her nature was sweeter still-and Sir understood that right away.

When he asked her name and roll number, Sneha replied calmly, "My name is Snehashila Roy, Roll Number Four."

Her behavior, her humility-everything about her created a strange sense of admiration in Sir's heart. No matter how noticeable her graceful physique might have been, her gentleness and courtesy shone even more brightly.

Sir asked her to sit down. Even as she sat, her chest moved slightly again, but this time Sir did not look away. He knew that if he did, the other girls might burst out laughing. It was better to pretend everything was normal.

No matter what a person's body looks like, it is wrong to look at them with prejudice or judgment. The true sense of humanity lies in seeing beyond that and understanding the person within.

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As soon as the last class bell rang, Sir quietly walked out through the door. A gentle breeze slipped in through the window cracks, but there was a different kind of excitement in the air. The girls slowly rose from their benches and surrounded Sneha.

Sneha hadn't even finished packing her books when the girls encircled her.

Anushka asked curiously,

- "Hey Sneha, did you notice something today? It felt like Sir had a different kind of look in his eyes when he saw you!"

Baishali placed a hand on Sneha's shoulder and laughed,

- "What did you feel? It seemed like there was a special gaze in his eyes when he looked at you. As if something about you really attracted him."

Diya grinned and whispered,

- "This always happens with her. Men seem to get lost just looking at her. Especially her... oh, those two things."

Tanvi joined in with laughter,

- "Exactly! This girl always has that effect. Men seem unusually drawn to her. She could break the meditation of even the sages."

Kakoli added in a low voice,

- "First it was D.D. Sir, and now it's A.B. Sir. Every man seems to feel some kind of pull toward her."

Megha said with a faint tone of jealousy,

- "If only I had even half of those!"

Megha was an extremely skinny girl. Her breasts were quite small.

Diya added with a sigh,

- "You're right. Why don't we have what she has?"

Though the rest of the girls were speaking in a playful tone, there was a deep shadow of envy in Ria's eyes.

She raised her voice and said,

- "Ugh, as if being big is always a good thing! I find those huge things of hers absolutely disgusting. A bony frame with that much flesh in one place? She looks like a pornstar, or some kind of lab-created hybrid!"

The others burst out laughing. Sneha sat quietly.

As they all laughed, her face turned pale. She felt deeply hurt.

But Ria's cruelty didn't stop. Twisting her lips, she added,

- "Honestly, I think her body is deformed. Nothing about it seems natural. She must've been born as some kind of deformed child."

Every word stabbed into Sneha like a knife.

She knew it was the shape of her body that made her different from the others. And yet, all she ever wanted was to be normal. Not to stand out in anyone's eyes.

It felt like every girl in class was now judging her based solely on the shape of her chest. They had no idea how these casual jokes, taunts, and the harsh tone of jealousy shattered her confidence every single day.

Sneha was deeply wounded by these ugly words. She didn't want to be a "different" kind of girl. She just wanted others to see her as normal, someone they could relate to.

She knew that Ria had always been jealous of her. Whenever she got the chance, Ria would throw hurtful remarks, mocking her body. The other girls seemed to isolate her purely because of her physical form. They laughed, they mocked, and Ria would cross all limits by comparing her to degrading things again and again.

What hurt Sneha the most was Ria's behavior. Since the beginning, Ria had tried to belittle her by calling her a "pornstar," lacing every word with venom. And yet Sneha knew - behind all this, there burned a deep fire of envy that even Ria herself refused to acknowledge.

The burden of those fixated eyes on her chest tired Sneha endlessly. She wanted to grow into someone who would be valued not just for her body but for her mind and her intellect. But the poisonous words that surrounded her each day seemed to be swallowing her whole - little by little.

To be continued...

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Today felt different.

A quiet buzz had spread across the entire school-whispers, muffled giggles, and a curious excitement lingered from classrooms to corridors. The reason was clear: today was the first day of the new chemistry teacher-Anurag Bandopadhyay.

Among the science students of grade twelve, there was a wave of silent thrill.

- "Hey, what does our new chemistry sir look like?"

- "Anita said he looks just like a movie star!"

- "More than that-even better! So calm, so serious, but when he smiles... oh my!"

When Anurag Sir first walked into the classroom, there was a momentary hush. Even though the students sat with their books open, all eyes were on him.

They hadn't imagined a teacher could be this handsome.

He was elegant, refined, and young-not just a teacher, but as if a character from a poem, whose mere gaze could send a soft current through the heart.

When he wrote on the board, no one cared about the chemistry equations. All eyes were on those long, graceful fingers.

He taught with a calmness that was rare-no rush, no frustration. His voice was deep, soft, and carried an unusual confidence. When he said,

"When two atoms share electrons, a covalent bond is formed,"

it felt as though he wasn't just explaining chemistry but unraveling some secret of life.

When their eyes met his, many students felt their hearts skip a beat. Some even made small mistakes on purpose, just hoping Sir would look at them and say, "Did you understand?"

The words didn't matter as much as that glance.

He often drew orbital diagrams, electron clouds, and nuclei on the board. Even the way he held the chalk was captivating.

When Sir, in the flow of teaching, walked up close to explain something, a soft fragrance would drift from him-a mature, enchanting scent that seemed unique to him alone.

While he taught, the twelfth-grade girls had their own silent commentary running:

- "This Sir is a dream!"

- "From today, Chemistry is my favorite subject!"

- "I feel like getting a tattoo of his handwriting!"

Not just his looks, his way of explaining was like soft music-clear, slow, and reassuring.

The class topper, Nandita, said after class,

"I understand everything the moment he explains. But why doesn't he ever look directly into our eyes while talking?"

The truth was, Anurag himself was very shy.

When students lingered a little longer under the pretense of asking questions, Sir would often lower his eyes, give a composed answer, and quickly shift his gaze.

The girls noticed this and whispered among themselves:

- "How gentlemanly!"

- "Maybe too gentlemanly... which makes him even more likable!"

This charm wasn't lost on the younger female teachers either.

Minakshi Ma'am, newly appointed, told Shilpa Ma'am during lunch break,

"Did you notice how gentle Anurag Sir's smile is?"

Shilpa winked and replied,

"You're mesmerized just by looking at him-I stood outside the class once and listened. His way of explaining... oh, divine!"

Minakshi blushed, her cheeks turning red. She quickly opened her steel lunchbox and tried to calm her racing mind with the aroma of rice and lentils.

Shilpa continued,

"Today, when I went to get tea for the staff room, I saw him standing by the window, teaching. In that black shirt brushing against his body, he looked even more striking. His handwriting-so beautiful-it felt like art!"

Minakshi took a sip of water and asked shyly,

"Did you talk to him?"

"No, but he himself said-'You all are very helpful, thank you for receiving me so warmly.' And I smiled and said-'It's very easy to like you, Sir!'

He paused, gave a shy smile and said, 'I haven't done anything to deserve being liked yet.' That smile...!"

Minakshi covered her face with her hands, embarrassed,

"Not just you, even I felt like I was a student again, and he was my teacher!"

Shilpa laughed,

"I knew it! His voice is so soft, and when he said, 'If you don't understand this part, I'll explain it again,' I swear, I felt like my heart melted!"

Both burst into giggles, like schoolgirls. Even though they were teachers, their hearts weren't made of stone-especially when someone new arrives with dreams in his eyes, courtesy in his words, and a mysterious shadow in the corners of his gaze. Anurag Sir had gently stirred open windows in their hearts like a breeze from their old schooldays.

Meanwhile, during the same lunch break, other female teachers also gravitated toward Anurag Sir.

None asked anything directly, but subtle attempts to sit closer, or casual questions like,

"Sir, are you having coffee?"

"How was class today?"

These carried soft notes of attraction beneath the surface.

But Anurag Sir, true to his nature, responded politely in a quiet voice to every question.

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After school ended, groups of students lingered in the corridor, their eyes subtly searching for Anurag Sir. Some smiled as they passed him, others stood quietly, fiddling with their bag straps while stealing glances. Watching each of their expressions and gestures, Sir was left astonished.

Anurag Sir began to realize that this school wasn't just a workplace for him-it was slowly becoming a web of invisible emotions woven around him, with himself at the center.

One by one, the students left. A slight stillness settled over the corridor, broken only by the soft clinking of teacups and gentle laughter drifting from the teachers' room. The staffroom was particularly lively today-it was the first day of the temporary chemistry teacher, Anurag Sir.

Anurag Sir stepped into the teachers' room.

Radhika Madam, the Bengali teacher who had been teaching at the school for nearly twenty years, handed him a cup of tea with a smile.

"Here you go, Sir. A special cup of tea for your first day. How was your class?"

Anurag Sir smiled shyly.

"It went really well, Madam. The girls listened very attentively. To be honest, I was a little nervous at first."

Madam Kusum, who taught mathematics and was in her fifties, laughed and said,

"Nervous? There wasn't the slightest hint of it on your face. I was in the adjacent classroom-I could hear your voice clearly, and it felt like that of an experienced teacher!"

Anurag Sir smiled humbly.

"In front of such seasoned teachers like you all, I still consider myself a student."

Madam Shipra, usually a bit stern, seemed a little softer today.

"Sir, the students came to the staffroom after class. They said you explain concepts really well. And apparently, your handwriting is beautiful too."

Anurag Sir looked a bit embarrassed.

"The fact that they understood what I taught-that's the real compliment for me. I'll do my best to make chemistry easier for them."

Radhika Madam chuckled and added,

"But do be careful, Sir. The girls here are quite sharp. With someone as polite, well-mannered, and handsome as you, they might get a little too enthusiastic. The lady teachers might need to be careful too!"

Laughter echoed softly around the room. Anurag Sir lowered his head slightly, a bashful smile playing on his lips.

As they sipped tea, Kusum Madam said,

"Anurag, while receiving students' affection is a joy, managing it wisely is also a big responsibility. You're a good boy, that's why I'm saying this-always remain grounded."

Nalini Madam, in her forties, added,

"Girls naturally tend to get a bit more excited when there's a new, good-looking teacher. Don't let anyone's behavior distract you-stay focused on your work."

Anurag nodded respectfully.

"Yes, Ma'am. I understand. You all are like mentors to me. I will always follow your guidance."

Shipra Madam said,

"Sir, you don't know everyone's name yet, but everyone already remembers yours. That's saying something. It's a sign of a good teacher-an achievement in itself."

Anurag Sir fell silent for a moment and then said,

"I never imagined the environment here would be this warm, this kind. Your support has truly given me courage."

Suddenly, Radhika Madam set her teacup down and said,

"Well then, let's do this. We have a teachers' meeting next Friday. Why don't you talk a little about your teaching methods there? It'll help everyone understand you better."

Kusum Madam quickly agreed,

"Yes, that would be great. And you're always welcome to join us for tea. We'd love to hear more stories from our new teacher!"

Anurag Sir bowed his head in gratitude, a soft, courteous smile on his lips.

As the afternoon light gently filtered into the staffroom, it marked the beginning of a quiet bond-the story of a new teacher's first day, filled with fatigue, appreciation, and the slow blossoming of trust.

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To be continued...