Summary:
A Student hypnotizes her Professor for an A.
Note 1:
This is a
fetish
story. It uses
mind control
and the
scent and look of nylon-clad toes
to seduce a Professor and make her into a mindless
lesbian
sex slave. The story includes
extensive foot worship
, and it was inspired by a great
Star Nine
video, one of my favourites, called
Mesmerizing Toes
(although mine has a lot more sex).
Note 2:
Thanks to
Tex Beethoven
for editing this story as always.
Hypnotic Nylons
I was just finishing up grading this semester's final projects, when Kennedy sauntered into my office. I sighed. Unlike all the other students in my Psychology 101 class, she hadn't handed in her final project, and thus she was very likely to fail the course. "What can I do for you, Kennedy?" I asked, my tone deliberately conveying my annoyance with her... expecting she was here so she could beg me to allow her to hand in her final project late. But this wasn't high school, so I was under no pressure from my higher ups for all of my students to pass my courses. And especially in her case... since she hadn't turned in any assignments
at all
during the semester, I wasn't in the mood to be at all sympathetic to whatever sob story she was about to hand me.
"Good afternoon, Professor Britton, I need to talk to you," she said, as I placed some papers into my bag so I could take them home and enter the final grades online while I watched a little television and enjoyed a leisurely glass or two of wine... since teaching freshmen will encourage any Professor to drink at least somewhat.
"Okay, what about?" I asked
faux
innocently, knowing exactly what she was about to ask me for... or at least I thought I did.
"May I please sit down?" she asked politely.
"Certainly," I responded. I leaned back against the front of my desk and crossed my arms, assuming a posture of authority that left little doubt about how unimpressed I was to be having a conversation with her.
Kennedy seated herself on the wooden chair in front of my desk and crossed her nylon-clad legs. She was one of only a few students I'd ever seen wearing pantyhose to class... which sadly, was a dying fashion piece. When I was first hired by the college twenty years ago, pantyhose were included in a female Professor's mandated dress code... although that requirement and practice had fallen to the wayside years ago, and often one couldn't tell the difference between a Professor and a student by their apparel, which I considered an egregious lack of professionalism in my colleagues.
"So. What may I do for you, Ms. Cheevers?" I asked frostily... still not remotely trying to conceal my annoyance with her.
"We need to talk about my grade," she said.
"Oh?" I asked, and then pointed out, "but for us to do that, you would need to have either handed in your final research paper, or shown me your project."
"Understood, So how about I show you my final project right here and now?" she asked, casually dangling one of her heels from her toes. "Then you can give me an A for the course, and we'll both be happy."
"An A? For the
course?
" I scoffed, which was a tad unprofessional of me, but although I knew Kennedy was a bright girl... her placement tests said as much... and she would likely have passed the course if she'd done well on the final, but at this point the best she'd earn was a C, and then if and only if she received an A on her final project.
"Yes, absolutely. I do deserve it after all," she insisted, ignoring my chilly demeanor and sarcasm.
"Unlikely," I said. "At the moment you're looking at a D if you're lucky, since you didn't hand in your final project when it was due, and you haven't handed in
any
assignments for the entire semester," I pointed out. "All you have going for you in this class is your consistent high scores on the weekly quizzes."
"Nevertheless, I still want an A," she said, not taking any notice of anything I was telling her.
"You haven't
remotely
earned an A," I argued, summarising what I'd already said and getting a little annoyed, while she uncrossed and recrossed her legs. I need to mention at this point that I'm straight... I'm happily married... I've never been seriously attracted to a woman... although like most women, I casually notice whether someone is pretty or not... and Kennedy was very pretty... but for some reason, her uncrossing and recrossing her legs and the subsequent heel dangling from one foot or the other, was getting a bit distracting.
"Semantics," she shrugged, her heel once again dangling from her right toes. I don't know why I found this distracting, but I did. I shoved it away the same way as when I'm sitting near my husband and he's twiddling his thumbs... if something is in my peripheral and moving, I find it distracting.
"This isn't even close to semantics, it's a preponderance of evidence! I'm not giving you an A just because you show up in my office and ask for one," I said, very close to being furious about her attitude. Kids these days always act so entitled. No one works for their grades anymore. I'd thought Covid would have made things better, since kids and families
must
have begun to appreciate the chance to attend school after needing to quarantine themselves away from them so much... but against all logic, the post-Covid entitlement issue somehow kept getting worse.
"I think my quiz scores demonstrate that I understand the content of this class," she said.
"Okay, I'll give you that," I agreed, "but parroting back the theoretical content of this course is only part of the journey I require from my students. You also need to demonstrate to me that you can put theory into practice with your fieldwork projects. Can you take what you've learned in this class and show me some real-life experiments or analyses to prove your alleged comprehension?"
"I can do that," she said confidently.
"Even if that's true, it's too late," I said, "the grades have to be posted before finals by 9am tomorrow morning, which means I have to upload them tonight from home. You're out of time."
"So..." she asked, her heel swinging and suddenly just a slight scent was in my nostrils, "is there anything I can do to convince you to award me the A I deserve?"
"Deserve?" I scoffed, no longer giving her even the vaguest pretense I was considering the possibility. I stressed again, "I've been perfectly clear all semester... and it's even in the syllabus... that I do not accept assignments after their deadlines, and I don't consider extra credit," I stressed.
"You sure? My parents will be furious if I don't keep getting straight A's," she warned.
"Not my problem. You should have considered that before failing to hand in your assignments this semester," I said dismissively.
"Except that you're my final stop in catching up. I've already convinced Professor Peters, Professor Walker, Professor Jamieson, and Professor Hamilton to give me A's in their classes," she said, still distracting me with her swinging heel.
"Did you hand in your assignments for their classes?" I asked, finding it hard to believe that any of those Professors would give this girl an A unless she'd earned it... they were all very well-respected, and all my good friends.
"Nope," she shook her head. "But nevertheless, each of them agreed that I had an excellent grasp of the material, and gave me an A."
"I find that very hard to believe," I said, "but in any case, I'm not giving you an A. An A is earned. An A is only awarded for someone's excellent academic performance. There's no way, I'm going to, um... going to, um..."
As her heel thunked onto the floor, I was suddenly staring at her red painted toenails, which were nestled sexily behind her sheer black nylons. While I've always worn pantyhose or stockings (the latter for special occasions) and found they really accentuated my legs... they'd never before been distracting to me when other women wore them... and definitely never on a student's legs and feet. Yet suddenly I was so confused I couldn't finish my sentence. It was like a San Francisco fog had appeared out of nowhere to cloud my head and my judgment.
"I'm certain we can work something out, Professor Britton," she said, wiggling her toes. "Especially since all my other Professors were so accommodating."
"Kennedy... I... this is just ridiculous," I said in total confusion, tearing my eyes away from her toes.
"Do you see my toes, Professor, my pretty little toes?" she crooned softly, almost breathlessly, continuing to wiggle them while she straightened her knee, thus lifting her right foot so its underside was facing me. "And my sole, my silky sheer sole?"
Her pantyhose-clad foot was on display right in front of my enraptured eyes... just about a foot separating them. "Kennedy... um... I...." I couldn't focus... an aroma like one from an essential oil diffuser was permeating my senses... and relaxing me.
"Maybe there
is
something we can work out?" she asked.
"No, Kennedy," I said firmly, even though I was confusingly distracted... unable to rip my eyes away from her nylon-clad foot. I felt very much like the prey hypnotised by that mythical snake.
"Okay," she sighed, and she removed her foot from my view and slid it back into her three-inch heel.
And I felt like my normal self again... mostly... the unique scent had left me a little light-headed... and, for reasons I couldn't remotely explain, I felt a little wetness in my panties. Although curiously I felt a little disappointed no longer to be seeing her nylon-clad sole and toes, I was regaining control of myself after that brief period of overwhelming confusion, and I was able to reiterate, "If you wish to achieve a reasonable grade, you'll need to ace the final."
"Will that give me an A for the course?"
"Heavens no," I scoffed again, stunned that this stupid girl hadn't yet absorbed the blunt words and tone I'd been handing her ever since the beginning of this conversation, "you can hope for a C, at best."
"That isn't good enough," she said, strangely looking not at all worried. If anything, she still appeared surreally confident.
"I'm not sure what you think you might accomplish here," I continued, now getting annoyed with this girl, "you simply didn't
earn
an A, you didn't earn a B, and you'll be lucky to earn a C. And there's no way I can give you extra credit for whatever you might come up with, when you didn't even complete the assigned course work."
Yet she continued to appear oblivious to my growing annoyance. "I didn't wish to give you extra work, so I didn't turn in any of the assignments."
"You didn't hand in any assignments so I'd have less
grading
to do?" I asked incredulously. "Which is my
