William was up early ready to visit his teacher, Miss Grant. Unusually for him impatience kept him looking at the clock, then his watch. Pacing around the bedroom, he wondered if there was something to do as a distraction. Fidgeting in front of the computer, he found it was useless as a distraction. Time usually went quickly when playing a game, only in was impossible to concentrate on anything, except the more pressing appointment.
He looked through the assignment yet again. The pertinent paragraphs had been re-written a few times, until they seemed foolproof. Previous instructions hadn't been specific enough, so that they spilled over into her private life outside of school.
He chuckled over the idea of his teacher accepting a pizza delivery, while dressed only in her underwear. It was all the more amusing, that she wore sexy new underwear he had told her to buy. He hadn't realised she would continue undressing at home, and not just in class. Yesterday in the mall was a total shock.
He hadn't recognised his teacher from the way she was dressed. From a distance she looked like a lewd Barbie doll, with her breasts bursting out of the top. The tight mini-skirt was riding up with every step, ready to reveal her panties. It wasn't until later he found she wasn't wearing any. Skimpy clothing had been purchased under his instructions, though she wasn't meant to wear the slutty outfit in the mall. The instructions had to be tightened up, or disastrous results would occur.
The shock of walking through the mall dressed like a slut, nearly brought her out of the hypnotic influence. She was in a halfway stage, between Miss Grant the responsible teacher, and May the liberated woman. That something was going wrong in her life was recognised, and she had begun to associate the problem with William.
The upside was, that she sought his help, and was developing a compulsion to follow his instructions. When he rescued her from the mall, it helped encourage the idea he was helping her. Yesterday he spent some time reinforcing the idea, that he would help her decide the right thing to do.
William heard a lawnmower start up, signalling that Sunday had officially begun, and it was a decent time to be visiting friends. Visiting a teacher at home at any time wasn't exactly acceptable, but he couldn't wait any longer.
"Hi Miss Grant. I've brought my essay over, for you to look at," William said, with a smile.
"Err, William, it's Sunday morning, can't it wait until Monday?" Miss Grant said, wondering why he was there.
"Sorry, you said to come over," he diffidently said.
She stared at him with a curious expression, looking undecided. He was going to be turned away. Before he could use her first name, she relented, by standing to one side to let him in.
"You had better leave it with me to look at, and I'll return it Monday," Miss Grant told him.
The hesitancy in her voice was surprising, and even more so that she let a student into her home.
She stood quite still, with her head to one side, wondering about him. He tried to look respectful, as he should before a teacher, especially in her home. Though, it was difficult to treat her with esteem, after seeing her naked in class. He glanced at the sofa, and quickly turned away.
The memory of what he had done to her yesterday became vividly alive. Not that it had been possible to forget. It still seemed like a fantasy; too good to be true. The most beautiful teacher in school had been laying naked across his lap, where he spanked her, then played with her pussy until she cum. She had even thanked him for the orgasm!
His face reddened with embarrassment. He was eighteen, and had a couple of girlfriends, but nothing so blatantly weird as that had happened with them. She was still examining him with a look of curiosity, as though trying to figure out what he was.
"William," she softly said.
He waited for more, only she remained silent, while signs of emotional strain rippled across her face.
"Yes, Miss Grant?" he prompted. It was important to establish how far she could be pushed while thinking of herself as his teacher. Or was he just playing with her?
"Did something happen?" she quietly asked.
"When Miss Grant?" he politely asked.
"When, when you hypnotised me, something, something happened to me," she hesitantly stated.
"Like what Miss Grant?" he again asked.
"Something inside of me. I don't like to say," she said, and looked away from him, becoming highly embarrassed.
"It's alright Miss Grant, you can tell me. I'll help you. I won't mention it to anyone, promise," he said, sounding more confident.
"It's nothing really. Maybe a side effect of the hypnosis, I don't know," she rushed out the words.
"I could help you if you tell me," William told her.
"I seem to be wearing different, err, clothes, than usual. Been a bit forgetful recently. Nothing much," she said, and blushed a deeper red.
How could she tell this young man about the pizza guy, and everything else. He would think she was mad. Rumours would spread around the school, if she blurted out those recent fears over becoming an exhibitionist again. It had only been a silly childish thing when a teenager. She was over that now.
"Sometimes inner feelings are released when hypnotised. Things that you weren't expecting. That's why it's used in therapy," he explained.
She looked at him with a desperate look, as though he had the answer to her troubles. It was time to invoke the hypnotic suggestion, before she told him to leave. He was about to say her first name, for when he said it, she would be under his influence.
"Can you really help me, William? For some reason I feel I can trust you. I need to talk to someone about it, and you're the only one who knows about hypnosis. Will you help me, William? I'd be ever so grateful," she gushed.
Wow! This was his teacher asking him for help, even before the post hypnotic state had been invoked. It must have been working on her consciousness more thoroughly than he thought. A moment or two passed, while he absorbed the implications. She was looking at him intently, awaiting his reply.
"Please, William, please help me," she quietly spoke.
"Sure, I'll try," he hesitantly answered. He noticed that phrase, about helping her, which she was using recently.
They sat on the edge of the sofa, a respectable distance from each other. May looked pensive, and worried.
"Try to relax, and tell me about it," he firmly said.
"I feel terrible confiding in you, but somehow it feels right. I think you would make a good therapist," she wanly smiled.
"Recently I've taken to wearing summer dresses to school, instead of the usual jacket and skirt," she hesitantly said. "Have you noticed?" she added.
