Teacher Tricked Hypno

Disclaimer: all characters involved are aged 18 or over.

Friday, the 6

th

of March.

Janice looked mournfully down at the pack of cigarettes at the bottom of the binbag for a moment.

Clean break,

she thought, tying off the top of the bag and carrying it outside. Today would be the day that her tapes arrived, and she knew how dangerous the 'just one more' mentality could be. She had had about a thousand last cigarettes in her time. She knew from experience that a clean break was best.

She was excited. She had picked up the habit in university, and for the past eight years she hadn't been able to shake it. She had heard good things about hypnosis tapes though. Maybe this time would be the time it stuck.

Barely two hours later, the cravings started to set in. maybe she should have waited for the tapes to actually arrive before throwing her stash away. One last cigarette was sounding pretty good right about now. Her fingers twitched with the first nervous spasms of withdrawal. It was 6pm on a Friday. If they didn't come tonight, maybe then they wouldn't come until Monday? Janice really felt she needed the tapes tonight if she was even going to make it through the weekend.

It was another hour before her doorbell finally rang, and when it did, she practically leapt to go open the door. When it swung open, she was surprised to see John Lawson standing in front of her, a box tucked under his arm. John was in her 7

th

period English class, and it was certainly a surprise to see him out of school. John was a gawky boy, tall and skinny. He had greasy brown hair, pale skin and a spotty face.

"Miss Locke," he greeted. "I've got the tapes you ordered."

"Oh, thanks John."

Crap.

This was awkward. Janice was ashamed of her smoking, and was careful to make sure that none of her student knew about it. "I never realised you were a delivery boy."

Before he answered, Janice noticed his eyes dart down to her chest, just for a moment.

Pig,

she thought resentfully, crossing her arms. Her dress was modest and showed no cleavage, but still. That wasn't the point.

"I'm not, really. My dad owns the company that makes these. You know how it is with small family business. Kids are always working odd jobs, never getting paid. I do a bit of delivery, bit of work with the recording software, a bit of editing. Basically, anything I can so that my dad doesn't have to actually hire enough people. Anyway, I won't keep you."

John handed the box over, and Janice took it awkwardly. He turned to leave.

"John," she called after him. He stopped on the path and turned, expectantly. "Do these really work?"

"Oh yeah, they definitely work. Work so well you don't even need to be tired; the start of the tape just puts you straight to sleep. Good luck with it, Miss Locke."

And with that he was gone.

Damn.

Now John had seen her as a smoker, and nervous with withdrawal. A teacher had to work damn hard to earn a class's respect. In her case, that meant being stern and strict. Any sign of weakness from her and she could spend more time shushing than teaching. Ah well. She could worry about that later. For now, the most important thing was that she quit smoking.

Janice's couldn't tell how much of her antsy behaviour was excitement and how much withdrawal. Either way, she was definitely putting this in soon. She looked at the clock. 7:15. Way too early to go to bed. John had said that they could put you straight to sleep though. Surely that wasn't true, just a company line. Janice had heard that these tapes worked, but surely not that well?

Curious, she tore open the box. Inside were 6cd's.

Retro,

thought Janice. Hadn't John's dad ever heard of digital download? It didn't matter much to her because she still had a CD player, but surely this wasn't good business practice.

None of that mattered though, because for her, this could work. This could be the end of it. No more shameful trips to the bathroom at parties. No more bad smells. No more shortness of breath. She couldn't wait. What was the harm in putting it in now? If it didn't put her to sleep, then she would just play it again later when she was tired. Besides, if she was awake much longer, she might break and go buy cigarettes. It had happened to her before.

She put the CD into her player in the living room, turned it on, pressed play. As the track crackled to life, she sat down on the couch. Suddenly, she felt sceptical.

If I listen to this and it's just a load of nonsense, then I'm definitely asking for my money back.

Janice had always been stern, no nonsense, and practical. She had no patience for people wasting her time or money.

Hello.

The voice that came from the track was deep and calm and smooth. Yet there was something in there that she recognised.

You are trying to quit smoking. This recording will help you along with your journey.

This is John,

she realised with a start.

It's John putting on a deeper, calmer voice.

Any hopes of this tape being created by a psychology genius were dashed. John was no genius. Janice had marked his work. She did have to concede that this voice he was putting on granted him a certain gravitas.

You are in a forest. You are sat on a tree stump. In front of you, a stream flows calmly. Its course across the pebbles of its bed is the only sound you hear. Golden shafts of sunlight beam down through the branches of tall oaks.

The more Janice listened, the silkier that voice sounded. It was like she was melting into it, being consumed by it.

You lay back. You are in the grass now, looking up at a clear blue sky.

Janice felt the blades beneath her, the damp dew breaking on her skin. She curled her toes into the grass.

But now the sky is clouding. It's turning from blue to slate grey in front of your eyes. The clouds are getting thicker and thicker. They are blocking out more light with each passing moment. The light is gone, and you are in shadow. And you are asleep in 3, 2, 1.

Monday, the 16

th

of March; 10 days smoke free.

Janice woke up from yet another excellent night of sleep. She climbed out of bed feeling refreshed. She took a deep breath. Today would be another good day. They had all been good days, since she started using the tapes. She hadn't realised the extent to which cigarettes were controlling her life, how much money and time they had taken away from her. She hadn't felt any cravings at all since that very first night. She felt free. She felt happy.

One side effect that she hadn't anticipated was that she was feeling motivated to exercise again. She hadn't really done much of that since university, but for the last couple days she had been lacing up her trainers and running before school. She would do that today as well. A run, then some core strength workouts were fast becoming her new morning routine.

Once she got home from her run, ate breakfast, and got dressed, she went to school. She wore what she usually did; tights, a grey pencil skirt, a starch white blouse. A grey blazer, if it was cold (which it was today). And of course, her glasses. Her mid length brown hair was kept in a tight bun. Janice had always felt that that helped with the stern image that she tried so hard to cultivate. Lately though, she had been feeling like a change. Maybe she would at some point.

Later that day, Janice was sat in the staff room. She had a few free periods in a row this morning, and she was sat marking papers for her afternoon class. That class was always a challenge, both academically and behaviourally. She closed the paper she had just finished marking and scrawled the letter "D" on the front. Beneath it, she left her comment.

"Your ideas are muddled, and you do not make a coherent argument. Please ensure that you plan the structure of your essay before you begin writing."

She sighed. Most of this class were getting C's and D's. Janice knew she would pay for that come bonus time, but she just couldn't bring herself to give a student a mark they hadn't earned. Most teachers inflated grades a little, but it went against what she believed in. She always followed the rules, even to a fault sometimes. She had been called stuck up or highly strung a thousand times in her life, but she just wanted things done right. Was that really such a big ask?

She moved the paper over to her depressingly small "marked" pile, and pulled another off the much larger pile to her right. She smiled. The name at the top of the paper was John Lawson.

John was fast becoming one of her favourite students. She had always found him weird before, but looking back she had no idea why. Maybe part of this change was gratitude for the tapes. Maybe, on some subconscious level, the fact that it was his voice that was helping her quit smoking was making her like him more.

She opened up his paper, and read.

It was fantastic. She couldn't put her finger on what made it just so good; it failed in several basic technical areas. There was something about it though. Some

je ne sais quoi

that made his points profound, his arguments swaying, and his paper an overall triumph. After she finished reading, she closed it, and wrote an A* on the top of the page. Beneath, she gave his feedback.

"This is excellent work, John. By far the best you've done. Keep up the good work!"

She put a little smiley face below her feedback. It was a far cry from her usual stern teaching style but hey, he had earned it.

"Janice, can I have a quick word please. In my office."

The voice snapped Janice up from her work. It belonged to Kate Busslet, the assistant headmistress. She was a severe, squat woman in her early 50's. Her and Janice had always shared a sort of mutual respect. This was a bit of a concern though. If it was something that they couldn't talk about in the staff room, maybe it was a disciplinary matter. Janet banished the thought. she could count on one hand the number of disciplinary matters she had been involved in in her entire life.

"Sure," Janice replied. "Will it take long? I have to have these marked by 7

th

period."

"It's just a quick chat. With me please."

Kate's office was on the same hall as the staff room, so they didn't have to go far. Kate held the door open for her, and Janice sat herself down on the small wooden chair in front of the desk. Kate sat behind the desk on a much larger chair. The effect was imposing, as it was surely meant to be.

"Now Miss Locke," she began, tenting her fingers.

Uh oh,

thought Janice. Being 'Miss Locke' was definitely bad news. "I just want to say that I have the utmost respect for you as an educator. However, over the past week or so it has come to my attention that your respect for school dress codes seems to be slipping."

Janice blinked. "My respect for dress code?" she would've laughed if she wasn't so confused. "But, Kate, I've been wearing the same outfits I always wear."

"But not in the same way. Your shirt is hanging half open." Mortified, Janice looked down. Sure enough, four whole buttons on her blouse were undone. Her chest was uncovered right down the middle, so far that the tops of her breasts could be seen, as well as the black lace suggestion of bra cups. She reddened. Quickly, she fumbled three of the buttons closed again, leaving just a chaste parting beneath her chin.

"Kate I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. The buttons must just be a bit small, I'll throw this shirt out when I get home I promise." She was panicking now, her breathing fast. She could feel her pulse beating hard and fast at her temples. She didn't deal with disappointing authority well.

"Now Miss Locke. You're a very attractive young woman, and you're dealing with some very difficult classes. I just want you to know that this isn't the way to get those boys to like you."

Janice's mouth hung open. The injustice of the accusation stung for so many reasons. She didn't care a single lick what her classes thought of her so long as they learned. She also went to great lengths to hide her body. Her D cup breasts had always earned her unwanted attention, and it was something she had no intention of dealing with at work. Even if she wasn't in the same great shape she had been at university, she was still lean enough to be attractive to a bunch of hormonal school boys. For that reason, she never gave them anything to look at.

"But Kate, I'm not like that! You know me better than that." There was genuine distress in her voice. Kate sat there, stony faced.

"I thought so too. Don't let it happen again."

Janice withered in her chair.

#

The meeting had left Janice distressed. Even so, the good mood she had been in all week meant that she hadn't dwelt on it the way she might have usually. She had been told off. So what? The sun was still shining, the birds were still chirping, and she was still smoke free for over a week. It had been a mistake, that was all, and soon Kate would see that. Besides, she couldn't think on it too much. She had 13b next, which meant giving them back their papers.

That was never any fun. By and large they had done poorly, except for John of course, and there were bound to be a load of angry faces when she gave them their marks. She would have to be at her strictest and most stern to keep them under control. That meant confidence on her part. It was their own fault really. They were all 18 years old, they should know how to behave in a classroom by now.

When she arrived in the classroom, she sat at her desk and pulled out the freshly marked papers, leaving them in a stack in front of her. The bell rang, and a few minutes later the boys started filing into the room in twos and threes, chatting loudly between them.

"Take your seats quietly," Janice snapped, giving a few of the boys withering stares. They fell silent, and took their seats. Janice smiled inwardly. She could still control a classroom. She glared at each boy in turn as they arrived. She was slightly disappointed to see that John wasn't in.

Oh well,

she thought.

I can just give him his paper next time.

Janice started her class by handing out the papers. She received the usual deluge of complaints and excuses that she had come to expect.

"Quiet, all of you. Clearly, the material hasn't sunk in yet. I had hoped to move you all onto something mora advanced this lesson, but we're not in a place where we can move on. Despite this paper being on chapter nine of 'of mice and men,' none of you quoted from this chapter more than once in the whole one thousand words. Why not?"

The silence that she had expected was deafening. She glared around the room, defying anyone to crack wise about it. None of them did.

"I assume it's because you don't know the chapter well enough. So, for today's lesson you are all going to re-read it, summarising the events in your own words. You will each pick out ten relevant quotations and explain which themes and characters they speak towards. You will be working in silence until we're caught up to the other classes."

There was a collective groan from the students, but they all knew not to talk back to Miss Locke. She was as quick to give detention as she was to give a glare. The students silently got to work.

Best thing for them,

Janice thought.

Even if they hate me for it, it's the best thing for them.

The class went on like this for a little while. After twenty minutes, John Lawton walked in. He looked different somehow. His hair looked better, his skin less spotty. He must've been hitting the gym, because his lanky frame was starting to fill out.

He must be developing a hell of a beach body under that uniform,

Janice thought. She felt herself flush, and banished the thought quickly.

"John, you're late," Janice said, trying to keep an edge to her voice.

"Sorry Miss Locke, I was busy." Janice smiled at him.

"Of course. It's ok if you have a reason. Here's your paper." She handed it to him.

"Woah, full marks." That set the class to outraged chatter. Janice put that down real quick.

"Quiet!" she snapped. They obeyed her in an instant. "John has done well on his paper. Its because he's been studying. You can all learn something from him."

John took his seat, all the while being stared at by angry classmates.

"Miss," he said as he was sat down. "As I've done so well on this paper, is it alright if we watch videos on YouTube for the rest of the class?" Janice thought on that a moment.

"Nobody else did very well unfortunately. This work is probably a little beneath you though. If you like, you can watch videos on your phone through headphones."

The boys of the class all shared outraged looks, though they were smart enough not to vocalise their feelings.

"That's not as good as watching them on the big screen Miss Locke," John insisted. "It's not fair to punish me for the rest of the class doing badly."

The logic there was flawed, that was immediately apparent to Janice. However, there was something convincing about it regardless. John was her best student now. What kind of teacher would she be if she didn't reward her best students? Not a very good one, she thought.

"Well, ok. As you've done so well. John, come up to my laptop to pick the first video." The class broke out into shocked and scandalised mutterings.

Ah, let them talk,

thought Janice.

They've earned it.

At the end of the lesson, the students filed out, still chatting. A few of them stopped to thank Janice for the lesson. One of those few was John, and Janice couldn't help but crack a smile as he did so.

What a good student.

Once they were all gone, Janice decided to settle in for some marking. She reached into her breast pocket for a pen, and to her horror she realised that those buttons had come open again. The buttons on the shirt must be way too small for it to happen twice in one day. Janice hoped it wouldn't affect her reputation. Afterall, she had worked so hard to hide her body from these kids, so hard to come off as stern and in charge. She went to fix her buttons again, then paused.

What's the harm really,

she thought.

If it makes them like me more.

That night, Janice could scarcely wait to listen to her tape. It was night 11, which meant she was supposed to move onto the second CD.

Saturday, the 4

th

of April; 29 days smoke free.

Janice stepped out of the shower, droplets of cold water beading her arms and chest. The shower hadn't helped, just like the run hadn't. She still felt that ache. It was deep in her core, and ever-present for the past few days.

She picked up a towel and dried her body, even that small cotton contact being enough excite her.

What's wrong with me?

She thought. She had never been like this before. Of course, she had always gotten horny from time to time, but usually she would just give herself a release at night and it would be back to normal for a few weeks. This felt different though.

A few days ago, when she was lying naked in bed, she had reached a hand down in order to give herself a much-needed orgasm. She had been surprised to find that she couldn't do it. Some part of her brain was telling her, screaming at her even, that she couldn't touch herself. That she wasn't

allowed

to touch herself. She couldn't have said why. It had never been a problem before. Nonetheless, she had found herself unable to go through with it, and had spent the past few days horny and frustrated.

Tentatively, Janice reached a hand towards her sex. She was met with that same sick feeling of wrongness. That this was somehow forbidden. Frustrated, she withdrew her hand. She seemingly had no way to dull the constant ache she felt pulsing through her core.