From goldcort@ix.netcom.com Thu Sep 25 21:00:33 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.femdom,alt.sex.fetish.sleepy,alt.sex.fetish.panty Subject: RP: Special Education (fd, mc/hyp, fetish/panty) From: goldcort@ix.netcom.com(Pinky) Date: 26 Sep 1997 01:00:33 GMT -------- WARNING: "Special Education" is a fictional work containing graphic sexual material, and must not be read by anyone under the age of 18. If you are under 18, or if you are offended by such material, you are commanded by the Goddess of Reasonableness to stop reading immediately. Those who continue reading do so at their own risk, and (hopefully) for their own pleasure. This story was written by Pinky, and is copyrighted June 1997 by SFM, and all rights are reserved. The right to reproduce this story in print and on electronic archives is hereby granted on a limited basis by the author, provided (1) access to it is made free of charge, and (2) the text of the story remains unaltered, including this disclaimer prominently displayed in its entirety at the beginning. Any resemblance of the characters and events depicted in this story to any real people and events is unintentional, coincidental and extremely amusing. Any comments or questions regarding "Special Education" (FD, MC/hyp, Fetish/panty) should be sent directly to Pinky, at goldcort@ix.netcom.com, a fairly permanent email address. Thank you for your patronage. Please come again. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Special Education by Pinky You might have thought my job teaching English at a boy's boarding school was rather boring and tedious. Especially for a woman of my obvious talent and ability. That's exactly what I thought when I started. It was my first teaching job out of college, and the only one I could get due to the pitiful job market. I had to work very hard to get it, though, and I wanted to make the most of it. But yes, it certainly was boring. In order to make it more interesting, I started wearing shorter skirts, higher heels, and sexier makeup from time to time, and watching the boys' reactions. The lustful looks on their faces, and watching them try to hide the bulges in their pants helped me get through the day. I would experiment with different makeup color schemes, perfumes , skirt styles and lengths, and shades of pantyhose, to see what effect they'd have on my young cadets. Over time, I found myself getting more and more extreme in order to keep things interesting. Eventually, I discovered that I could use my teasing to elicit cooperation and obedience from the more unruly types. If I sat at down in front of the class beside my desk, I would see almost everyone's eyes drawn to my legs, waiting for a peek up my skirt. If I crouched down next to one of the boys and let my legs part just a little bit, I was effectively able to command his full attention. Often when I had a boy in detention, I would notice his attention would follow the movement of my ass and legs. And if I moved around the office, getting files from cabinets and writing the next day's lessons on the chalk board, his eyes would follow me, longing for a glimpse of my sacred panty crotch. One day I decided to play with a student one on one, by keeping him after class and teasing him. I trained him methodically to obey me, by subliminal means. I gave him instructions to follow, and whenever I saw him carrying them out I would grant him peeks further and further up my skirt. When he stopped working, the show stopped. Eventually I had him working steadily for me, grading papers, doing my filing and helping me with any other duties I saw fit to give him. I tried my approach privately on every boy in the class, before I decided to try it in prime time. I had discovered there were some boys who didn't respond to my system of rewards. I quickly had them transferred to other classes, as I had no room for rebels. I was left with a class full of obedient leg watchers, and went about educating them as no other teacher could. Now, at the beginning of every semester I go through the same weeding process, after which I am able to manage my class extremely well. I could even say I enjoy my job now, and that since discovering this new teaching method it has never been boring. When I have the whole class in front of me, there is nothing like the power I feel running me. Power over these boys, who are almost men, and who are ultimately bound to be leaders in our community. Power to addict them to my legs and ass, and to use my charms to bend their wills to mine. Power to teach them first hand what a woman can do, so they'll never again think of themselves as superior. Yes, when they leave my class they know who's boss. They know they've been educated, by whom and for what purpose. They know who their favorite teacher is. They know why they enthusiastically breezed through my class and barely scraped through the others with yawns. They know, and they are happy, and they tell me so. I take my role as an educator very seriously. If I didn't feel my approach was working, I wouldn't keep using it. But the fact is that it does work, and it works well; and there is ample proof out there in our community, now that I've successfully taught five years of boarding school graduates. In my psychology classes in college, lots of lip service was given to positive reinforcement as an educational tool. But so few actually used it for anything meaningful. Now that I'm out of college and teaching students in the real world, I've hit pay dirt with one of the most powerful techniques to come along this century, and I'm loving it! I recently decided to see exactly how far I could go using my new technique to solve behavior problems, with one special student in my most difficult class. I picked Sammy because he really seemed to need guidance more than the other boys. He was rowdier and more belligerent, and others seemed to follow his lead. I figured that if I could get his behavior under control and make an example of him, I would have an easier time managing the rest of the class. One day I kept him after class to discuss his performance. I made sure everyone else was gone, and I quietly closed and locked the door. I circled my prey and came up from behind him, putting my hand gently on his shoulder. "Sammy, there's something I need to talk with you about," I opened. "I'm concerned that you've lost your focus in class, perhaps even in life." "Don't be ridiculous!" he protested, as he turned his head around to face me. "I'm not being ridiculous, young man, and face front when I'm talking to you!" I snapped back. He turned back around, to face front, only slightly ashamed by the exchange. "Now, I know how hard it's been for you to concentrate in class." "It has not!" he protested again, and jerked his head around to face me again. "Well, it's obvious to me that you have problems remembering simple instructions," I insisted. "Now face front and KEEP facing front!" "Sorry, Ma'am," he said, and turned back around to face front. I walked in front of him, keeping my miniskirted body very close so he could almost smell me, and leaned over looking him straight in the eye. "I want to trust you. I want to learn to trust you. I want you to teach me that I can trust you. Can you do that for me?" I was talking sweetly and gently now. Trying not to look at my bosom, which was right in his face, he stammered "I-I'll t-t-try, Ma'am." "Thank you, Sammy. I really appreciate that." And I meant it. I sat down in a chair across from him, and let my legs part everso slightly. I knew he couldn't see all the way up, but I also knew he could see far enough that it would draw his attention. It did. "Sammy," I began, "I know you're a very smart boy, possibly one of the brightest I've ever taught. Why is it that you have so much trouble concentrating in class?" As I said this, I leaned forward and let my knees part just a little bit more. His eyes kept with the program. "Well, I--" he tried to answer, catching himself and shifting his eyes back up to meet mine. I pretended to notice something was going on, but not to know what. "Am I distracting you somehow without realizing it?" "Huh?" he said, noticeably startled that I didn't seem to notice his eyes on my legs a moment ago. "Distracting me?" "Well, you seem uncomfortable around me right now," I said as I shifted my position slightly, opening and then closing my knees quickly, to see how well his eyes were trained to follow the display. "I'm not, er, well I, uh..." he stammered. I knew his boyish resolve was weakening, and would be putty in my hands very soon. "Well, some boys complain that my short skirts and pretty legs distract them from my lessons," I said as I looked down at my own legs and motioned to them with my well-polished nails. His eyes obediently followed. "Is this what's happening with you? I really need to know," I added, looking back up at him, trying to make eye contact. As I did, I casually swung one leg over the other, giving him another brief glimpse if his eyes were quick enough. He tried not to look, of course, and when he couldn't help himself he tried to conceal the rapid movement of his eyes to catch the glimpse. He replied sheepishly, looking away to avoid eye contact "N-no, of c-course not." I spoke sweetly now, asking "My pretty legs don't distract you then?" "I said they don't, and I meant it," he said, garnering enough strength to look me in the eye this time. "I'm not sure I believe you, Sammy," I said, sounding like I really wanted to. "I mean, when I do this," I went on inquisitively, slowly recrossing my legs to taunt him, "your eyes don't wander down to my legs?" He tried to hold his gaze. "Or when I do this?" I asked, taunting him further by letting my uncrossing my legs and letting them fall open a bit more than before. His eyes wandered just for an instant, but it was the irrefutable break in his armor I was maneuvering for. "There, you see?" I insisted. "You ARE looking at my legs, just like I said." "B-but you just --" "But I just WHAT?" I interrupted. "You're looking at my legs. Admit it!" "N-no I'm not. You're just trying to confuse me." "Oh, am I?" I asked playfully, as I slowly recrossed my legs, leaving my panty crotch in full view for a full second. He looked down at my legs again, and took in the whole view. "Y-yes, you are. You're trying to trap me." "I don't think that's so hard, young man, considering you're already so eager to look at my lovely legs. You see, whenever I cross my legs like this -" (which I did as I was speaking) "-your eyes just naturally seem to gravitate toward them. It's no trap making you look, it's what you WANT to do, if you'd just stop fighting it." I made this sound almost like an invitation. "I d-do not," he asserted in a meager attempt to protest. I could tell his will was weakening. "Here, Sammy," I said, offering a solution. "Let me see if you're right." I uncrossed my legs again, letting my white panty crotch remain in plain view for a full second or more. I watched as his eyes obediently followed my lead. Then I very slowly began to stand, watching his eyes follow my legs, as I inched my skirt up slowly until the panty-seam of my pantyhose was visible. His eyes remained fixed, in a helplessly dead stare. "What are you looking at, young man?" I asked teasingly, but affectionately. "I - uh," he stammered. As I continued inching my skirt up right in front of his face, I kept watching his eyes. "What are you looking at so intently, hmmm? What are you hoping to see?" I paused, unimaginably close to revealing the nylon-encased white of my panty crotch. "Hmmmmm?" "I - uh" was his only reply. He was completely transfixed, unable to look away, and almost completely unable to form words. "What are you hoping to see down there? I'll bet you couldn't pull your eyes away even if you wanted to, and I'm not at all sure you even want to." I was speaking very softly at this point, very intimately directing each word right into his brain. I paused to let him digest my words. "You don't want to stop now, do you?" I whispered. "Please answer me." "No, I don't want to stop," was the barely audible reply. "I didn't think so," I said, triumphant like a lawyer who just made her most important point. I smiled broadly and took in the sight of my obedient young scholar. "Now," I continued. "I want you to watch closely," I said as I raised my skirt very gradually even higher. "When you see my panties, you will be completely unable to look away. Completely unable to look away. When you see my panties. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand." "You want more than anything to see my panties, don't you Sammy?" "Yes, more than anything." "That's right. You're a very good boy. Aren't you?" "Yes, good." "Yes, that's right. And you're also very obedient, aren't you?" "Yes, obedient." "And when you see my panties, do you know what will happen?" "No." "Let me tell you, Sammy. When you see my panties, you will become weaker, even weaker than you are right now. Do you understand, Sammy? You will become very, very weak." "Yes, I understand." "So weak, in fact, that you will remain unable to look away, no matter what. Completely unable to look away from my pretty panties, unable and unwilling to think about anything else but my panties." I paused, to let the words sink in. "Now, what will happen when you see my panties?" I asked, just to make sure my words were having the proper effect on him. "I will become weaker." "How weak will you become?" "Too weak to look away." "That's very good. But you are already too weak to look away, aren't you Sammy?" "Yes, too weak." "And when I show you my panties, you will become weaker still. So weak, so helplessly weak. My panties will own you then, won't they Sammy?" "Yes, your panties will own me." "My panties will control your thoughts. All you can think about, even now, is my pretty panty crotch. You want to see it, to feel it's awesome power. It feels very nice to think about my panties, and to let their power control you. You want very badly to let my panties control you, don't you?" "Yes, I want them to ..." "And even though you can't see them, my panties are already controlling you right now, aren't they?" "Yes, they are ..." "Tell me, what are you thinking about right now?" "Your panties." "Can you think about anything else?" "No." Do you even want to try to think about anything else but my panties?" "No, I don't want to think ..." "That's right, Sammy. You don't want to think, you just want my panties to dominate all your thoughts. And that feels good to you. That feels just exactly as it should be. Thinking about my panties, letting them control you, giving in to their power over you." And as I said this last part, I raised my skirt just high enough to let my panties peek out. He was totally enthralled, and totally mine. I was loving this! "Look at my panties, Sammy," I told him. "Concentrate on them," I urged him. "Think about how pretty they are, how feminine. Think about how soft they are, and how pleasant and calming they would feel rubbing against your nose and cheek. Think about how sweet they must smell. Can you imagine these things, Sammy?" "Yes, I can imagine ..." "Thank you, Sammy. You are indeed a very good student.," I said as I revealed a tiny bit more, and inched everso slightly closer. "I want to reward you for your obedience. Can you think of a way for me to reward you?" "Your panties," he said yearning, motionless, eyes still fixed on them. "My panties?" I pretended to be puzzled. "What would you possibly want with my panties? You wouldn't want to touch them, would you?" "Yes, I --" "Or even possibly kiss them gently, right here?" I asked, as I pointed with my polished fingernail to the center of my panty crotch, and inched myself even closer to his face. "Don't you just want to lean forward the tiniest little bit and kiss my panties right here?" "Yes, I do," he replied as expected. "You do? Then please don't let me stop you. I give you permission to kiss my panties. Please do so." I made this last line sound like a gentle command, and he couldn't hold back. He obeyed like a good boy (or a puppy dog!), and kissed me as softly and lovingly as I'd ever been kissed in my life. "You are a very good student, Sammy. You have made your teacher very proud." I smiled broadly as I ran my fingers lightly through his hair. He paused a moment, and looked up at me, smiling. "Please don't stop though, dear. Your lesson is only just beginning." And as I said that, I gently guided his face back down to my panties. "My panties want your lips. They need your lips. You won't disappoint my pr etty panties, now, will you?" "He shook his head slightly and uttered a muffled "uh-uh" as he went to his sacred task. After a few minutes feeling his lips and nose caress me through my pantyhose and panties, I decided to make my next move. "As you kiss and smell my panties, Sammy, you find yourself forgetting about everything else. All you know are my panties, all you want are my panties, all you can think about are my panties, and all you ever WANT to think about are my panties." I instructed him. "Nod if you understand and agree with me." He nodded. My panties are everything to you, and you like it that way. It feels good to you. My panties are your universe. They give your life meaning, don't they Sammy?" "Yes," was the muffled reply, "meaning ... " "You cannot forget about them, ever. Every day you will think about them, every hour, and every minute. My panties are the one constant in your life, from this moment on. Thinking about them makes you feel good, seeing them gives your mind focus, and smelling them relaxes you and gives you a deep, deep feeling of well-being. Do you understand me, Sammy?" "Yes, I understand." "Good. You enjoy these feelings very much, don't you?" "Yes, I enjoy the feelings." "Yes, you do enjoy the feelings you get from letting my panties dominate all your thoughts. In fact, you enjoy these wonderful feelings so much that you never want to lose them, do you?" "No. I never want to lose them." "No, you certainly don't want to lose them, Sammy. You enjoy giving up your will to me, and letting my panties dominate your thoughts so much now, that you'll do anything to INCREASE their power over you, won't you?" "I'll do anything ..." "That's right, dear. You'll do anything to increase the hold my panties have over you, and to ensure that these wonderful feelings will never go away. You want to submit to me more and more, at every opportunity, so that these feelings will continually deepen and strengthen. You cannot refuse any opportunity to submit to my panties, and you never even want to try. Can you ever hope to resist my panties, Sammy?" "No, never." "And you don't ever want to try to resist them, even to the slightest extent, do you?" "No, I don't want to resist." "That's right, Sammy. You are indeed a very good student." And as I said this, I gently pulled his face against my panty crotch again, as a reward. "And if I ever show you even the tiniest glimpse of my panties, ever again, you will find yourself completely unable to look away, and unable to think about anything else. You will find yourself becoming weak and helpless, lost under the influence of my pretty panties. As you look at my panties, you will obey me totally, completely unwilling and unable to resist. You will find yourself relaxing more and more deeply, the longer you look at my panties. You will find yourself obeying my wishes automatically, as though it was the most natural thing to do, as though you were born to do it. You will want nothing more than to obey me and please me, and your happiness depends on how well you satisfy me. "You are now my panty slave, Sammy. You will always be my panty slave. You were born to be my panty slave. It fulfills you very deeply that I allow you to be my panty slave, and you are very grateful to me. Don't you love being my panty slave, Sammy my dear?" "Yes, I love being your panty slave." "You feel a strong desire to share your joy and fulfillment with others, so they may also know the true bliss you have attained by serving me. You want to share this deep feeling of satisfaction with your friends, so that they might also experience the same ecstasy. You will try to find ways to share this experience with others, wont you?" "Yes, I will try to share ..." "Very good. But how will you teach them? Do you think you can convince them just be telling them about my panties, and the joy they bring into your life?" "No." "That's right, you'd have to SHOW them. I will be glad to help you share this joy with others, by showing them first hand what it can be like for them, if you don't mind me getting involved. Would you like my help with that?" "Yes, please help me." "I would be glad to," I replied, as if doing him a big favor. "Thank you for asking me so kindly. We can work together, to show other boys how happy they can be as my panty slaves. We can be a team, can't we?" "Yes, a team." "I'm so glad to have you on my team, Sammy. You are such a good student, and a fine panty slave. I am very happy with your progress here this afternoon, and I'd like to reward you." "Reward me?" "Yes, of course. You may now continue kissing and smelling my panties, if you so desire." And with this, I turned around, pulled my dress all the way up over my hips, and bent over slightly to give him access to my panty-covered ass. He began kissing and sniffing like it was the most important thing he's ever done in his life. Fortunately for me, it was. THE END?