The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mr. Grant

Right here, I thought as I stood in front of the row of lockers between Miss Jacobs’ classroom and stairwell three, is the epicentre of all my troubles, and—surprise, surprise—Michael Wagner and Terrence de Havilland have the two lockers right in the middle.

Observation and isolation of the variables lead back to this stretch of hallway. Things … changed here. For a man trained to objectivity and rationality, it was frustrating. I would watch students walk through the region and at the back of my mind I would feel that they came out subtly different. Sometimes the conversation seemed to change mid flow, but then I tried to recall what they had been talking about, it all made sense. Regardless, I knew.

I formulated two hypotheses:

The first was that I was going mad. Frankly I didn’t like that hypothesis at all, but all avenues of scientific examination must be explored.

The second was that Wagner or de Havilland had something in their locker. Wagner was nothing but trouble and he ultimately reaped what he’d sown, removing himself from the running as he hadn’t been back to school since his accident with Douglas MacKay. However, I had no idea how long this had been going on, so perhaps I couldn’t eliminate him quite so easily. De Havilland, on the other hand, was quiet, polite, and somehow the root of my current gravely unsettled feeling as I stared at the pair’s lockers.

Thirty five years ago, when I was a student, I would have broken into his locker to see what was there. It was easy and the quality of the locks being handed out to the students had hardly improved. In my day, the vice principal would have simply cut the lock off and investigated directly, searching for cigarettes, pot, and other contraband, but those days were past. The modern education system operated on different principles. I needed proof to be allowed to open a locker, and an eerie feeling of discontent did not count as proof.

The fact that Reuben Carter’s basketball skills were abnormal was not proof. Many future great sports stars likely seemed abnormal in high school. That the level of sexual activity among the students had skyrocketed was not proof, even though I’d had to expel several cheerleaders and football players for their conduct. The majority of the remaining members of the dance team had been transferred to remedial courses where they were still failing. A month earlier, they had been a group of relatively good students as well as socially and physically active girls, but now their lives seemed to focus on clothes, seducing students and teachers alike, and partying.

And they are now all dumb as bricks. That would fit into Hypothesis Two’s one month timeline starting with Wagner’s hospitalization.

“Excuse me.”

The voice distracted me from the unprofessional train of thought and immediately channelled be along and even less professional track. I didn’t even have to look to know who it was because the speaker had a voice designed to command the attention of any male between puberty and death. In fact, it was preferable that I did not look because already, simply knowing she was there, I was becoming acutely sexually aroused.

Kelly Jacobs was nearly impossible to think about professionally without looking at the way her hips filled out her miniskirt. She strode through the school like a queen and awed students gave way before her. Even teachers and administrators were far from immune to her charms—I was proof of that. Kelly got away with far more than any teacher or student ever did on my watch.

Any student that dressed the way she did would be sent home for violating the dress code, but having seen Miss Jacobs in proper working attire, I had to admit the student body, and the teachers, were safer with her in street clothes. Elegantly coifed and with her spectacular body covered with a demure business suit, she radiated more raw sex than anything I had ever been exposed to. It seemed that the more she dressed up, the less the mind managed to pay attention to its surroundings, so now I avoided her like the plague when she was prepared for parent interviews.

If I hadn’t been twice her age, perhaps I’d have admitted to having other thoughts about her, but why bother? Indeed, a eunuch would have been hard pressed to look at her and not be overcome with longing. Odds are that if I had met Kelly before turning forty, and certainly when I had started my career, I would be married right now. If not to her, then to someone just to relieve the tensions caused by simply working near her.

Instead, I had focussed on educating and had accumulated what I thought of as 7,542 sons and daughters, a feeling that I knew from talking with Miss Jacobs that we had in common. At one point I believed that she would have made an excellent administrator, but that was before she began to act on her odd theories of teaching.

“A Teacher,” she tells me, “Should be more than merely an educator. A Teacher needs to be a friend, confidant, and role model. She needs to be a guiding light as they grow and find what they want to be. Under no circumstances should a Teacher teach classes; they should teach students.”

And she was a good teacher, of that there was no doubt. She was one of my best because, as insanely naïve as they sounded, her theories worked. But only for her and only because the entire male student population was completely besotted and the females jealous. And that answered the dance team problem, if anyone could.

“Miss Jacobs,” I said, risking a look at her. She was immaculate despite the casual nature of her attire. The only marring feature was a smudging of her lipstick; likely she’d said a warm goodbye to her fiancé before coming to the school. Imagining how warm a goodbye, my pants became uncomfortably tight—tighter than I had ever experienced before, even in the company of the lovely Kelly. Driving her home after school every day often left me feeling as though the automatic transmission in my car still had a gear stick, yet never had I experienced anything near this intense.

“Would you be interested in helping me an experiment?” I managed to get out after minimal pause. Kelly didn’t live with her fiancé, if she even had one. My waistband began to become painful. Control yourself, old man. Remember your age.

“I’d love to,” she said, her languid eyes seeming to sweep up my body, lingering slightly at my waist before continuing upwards. The pause was more likely simply my overactive imagination playing tricks, I was sure. “How can I help?”

“The dance team may respond better to your teaching approach than Mr. Walker’s remedial mathematics, so I was wondering if you could brush up on your algebra and help the girls out. They are already short staffed after their celebratory … orgy and it wouldn’t due for the rest of the ladies to suffer for the failures of a few.”

“I’d love to!” She positively beamed, her smile sending shivers up and down my spine. Trying to relieve the pressure, and to conceal what must have been an obvious display of rampant desire, I placed my thumbs in the front belt loops and pushed forward. My efforts were to no avail, so I sought to distract Kelly.

“I’m wondering. Have you ever noticed Mr. de Havilland up to anything unusual?”

“Other than some heavy petting with his girlfriend Suzy, no. Usually it’s Darren and Lacy or the two Monicas acting up, though.”

Ah yes. I’d sent both pair home to cool off several times.

“Terry and Suzy are generally just being cute,” she continued before stopping to look at me more closely—the very last thing I wanted. “What’s wrong, Mr Grant?”

A good question, but one I was unable to answer honestly. My libido was in fine form today for I was in a state I hadn’t experienced since my own days of high school. “Have you ever felt that something was wrong, but been unable to do anything about it?”

“Oh, all the time. Whenever I see the new curriculum for the year. It was so much easier back when I was a student.”

“Ah, the old, simple days. You know, Miss Jacobs, there are also times when I wish I was a student again.”

And there I was, talking with the hottest teacher in the school like I was an adult. She was so hot and half the time she didn’t even seem to realize it or have a boyfriend. It gave a guy hope, you know?

Maybe too much hope. I was hard as a rock just being near her. Harder than I’d ever been before in my life; it felt like my dick was going to explode out of my pants and that was before she smiled at me. I’d do Miss Jacobs in an instant! It’d probably be all over in an instant, even with the biggest dick in gym class, because Miss Jacobs was a total fox! And I gotta graduate first. No way would a superbabe teacher sleep with a student. Not when she could have anybody she wanted.

Miss Jacobs

There was something about that new student, Daniel. So calm, collected and cool. He worked at it very hard, too hard, but I suspected that it was a shell. If anyone could break him out of that shell and make him a complete person, it was me. That would have to wait, though, I needed to come up with a way to get a cheerleader’s attention and keep it long enough for them to learn anything.

I was actually being given free rein to teach something! It was going to be so cool!

Maybe Daniel could help. He was very attentive, smart, and he had an absolutely huge cock for a boy his age. Future porn star material for sure. Walking back into my room, I wondered if he had any uncles built like that, and then I wondered when I had become so sex-obsessed. Probably a result of all of the pornography I had been watching over the past semester, studying the modern day mating rituals my students absorbed.

How could I teach the cheerleaders? They were notoriously scatterbrained, but Mr Blaskó, the creepy “Vampire Principal,” said he was certain I could do it. An English teacher teaching math to cheerleaders after hours and practically given free rein to experiment. And how did this connect with Daniel? Somehow he was involved, I could feel it, but was it woman’s intuition, or was I just getting horny again? Daniel was hung like a porn star after all.

Kelly! Never mind Daniel for now. You have enough problems already, like how to get the cheerleaders to pass math. Or Tommy.

Somehow I’d made a mistake with Tommy. Instead of simply learning what he needed and then going after his mature-but-sometimes-childish brunette dream girl, he’d fixated on me. Not that I didn’t enjoy the attentions, but a long-term, non-teaching relationship with him went against my sense of ethics. Somehow I needed to wean Tommy off of me, now that he had the skills necessary to be successful with women in his own right. He needed a girl his own age.

“A girl his own age …!” And, just like that, I had the solution to the Cheerleader Problem. Possibly even to Daniel and Tommy! How could they say no to a cheerleader in need of help? Those girls were the closest things to porn stars you could find in a high school and Tommy loved watching movies with me. I just had to direct that interest elsewhere, but to which one? There were so many cheerleaders to choose from!

Mike Wagner

“Some help you were, Terry,” I croaked when my so-called best friend finally showed up late in the afternoon. “Where were you earlier?”

“I got here after the brunette did. You just couldn’t wait, could you?”

“You crazy? You see her?”

“Yeah. And I see you. You’re a wreck again. They changed the sheets, I hope. Oh, by the way, Katelyn left this,” Terry said, handing over a business card. I gave it a quick glance and probably went bug-eyed.

“Model and exotic dance— She’s a stripper? Fuck me!” The outburst left me coughing and then wheezing in pain. I should never have seduced Katelyn—even if she’s a stripper. But, dude! You fucked a real live stripper! And you’ve got her number!

“I’ll leave that for her to do.” Terry grinned and added, “She’s probably better at it.”

“You bring the laptop?” I asked. With a little help from me and the program, she could the next Kelly Adams. I could be dating a porn star!

Reality hit. And she’d be fucking other guys all day. Stop and rethink, genius.

“Yeah, I brought it. Your mom was pretty insistent. I’m not leaving it here, though, until we agree on some rules, Mike. This thing’s just too dangerous.”

Terry never was stupid. Slower than me on the uptake, but not stupid. “Figured it out, huh? I knew someone did because somebody undid all the work I did on Callie.”

Terry snorted. “Duh. You wanted to show me something, all sorts of crazy shit starts happening … man, if I hadn’t already figured it out, I would have after your mom started hitting on me. How’d you think you got better so fast? I built you a bunch of doctors who could fix all of the stuff MacKay broke. I also got the nurses to lay off and let you recover.”

“You coulda just healed me. Asshole.”

“No.” Terry glared at me and jabbed an accusing finger. “I couldn’t, asshole. Someone, we won’t name any names, password protected their profile. I had to do everything the hard way. It took me a week to track down all of the nurses and make them immune to your dick so they’d stop trying to screw you back into your coma.”

“Stupid bitches. Should have more sense.”

“Mike …! Jesus! They probably do, but someone, we still won’t name names, made his cock super huge and completely irresistible to women. Face it, dude. They couldn’t help themselves, but if it’s any consolation, most of them didn’t really seem to enjoy it much. One even went basket case before I wiped her memory and put her virginity back. I mean come on, Mike! A foot long?”

“What’s wrong with a foot?” The talking thing was getting a bit easier, even though my jaw hurt like hell, and I was tired of sounding like a Neanderthal. “The chicks loved it, man!”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure they loved the vaginal bruising they got every time you started banging their lungs. Even Suzy doesn’t like going much above nine.”

“How hard can that be to fix? I just didn’t think about it, that’s all—”

It took a moment, but the full context of what Terry’d said kicked in. “You’re banging Suzy? Dude, she’s flat. And ugly.”

“Mike, you gave her the body and mind of a porn goddess. She’s perfect now. And you did her first. Asshole.”

“No I didn’t.” Porn Goddess? I had a flashback. “Maybe I did. I don’t remember. The whole day’s a blur. I remember Marian, this totally insane blonde screaming for it up her ass and …!” The blonde!

“Holy fuck!” I said when I stopped choking. “I did do Suzy. But I didn’t change her, man. I swear! I was just going to do Marian, then turn Molly into a hentai bimboslut, but Suzy’s, like … Suzy. I wasn’t going to touch her, Terry. Too much fun getting on her nerves all the time.”

“You sure?” He didn’t believe me. Or maybe he did. Terry was kind of hard to read sometimes. “She must have caught a rumour.”

“Fucking amazing rumour,” I said, shaking my head at the memory. I shifted in the bed to try to conceal the rapidly developing boner from Terry. If he was banging Suzy, they were serious. Last thing I wanted to do was piss him off before I got the computer back. But Suzy? Her ass! I’d dreamed of it, sure, but … not with Suzy.

Wait a sec. “What’d you mean, ‘rumour?’”

“Ehhh … that takes a bit of explaining. You left the laptop running and the gaming mike was plugged in and sort of picking up things people said in the hallway.”

The implications … were actually scary. “You’re not serious.”

“Darren and Lacy are practically man-and-wife,” Terry said, ticking off fingers. “The cheerleaders are all cum-crazy, bi bimbosluts. According to Tommy, Miss Jacobs teaches classes that put Kelly Adams to shame. Mary Astin’s literally a complete whore. Molly turns into a hentai wet-dream and fights crime.”

I blinked. “Say again? Molly what?”

“Think porno Sailor Moon.”

“I don’t even have to think it.” Didn’t have to try and hide the boner anymore, either, because now I had an excuse. I hid anyway because showing that off to your best friend’s something you do once. Otherwise it’s just … freaky. “Who did that one?”

“Uh ….” Terry shrugged and sort-of smiled. “Me.”

“Very cool.”

“No, it’s kind of gross. Cum and milk spray all over the place when she gets off—and that doesn’t take much to get her off. It even happened once in class when she had a daydream. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her all the way out here. She’s loud!”

I tried not to laugh, but that effort to resist was almost as painful. It reminded me of why Terry was really here. “Great. Pass me the computer. Gonna log in and then you’re gonna fix me up.”

“Turn off the password, Mike.”

“Fuck that! What if someone else has a copy of this? The odds of me being the only guy to download it aren’t worth considering given the number of seeds it had. Plus someone renamed it and uploaded the torrent in the first place. What if somebody stole the laptop? That password could be my only defence.”

“Mike, what am I supposed to do next time?”

“Won’t be a next time,” I said, dead serious. Then Terry burst out laughing and I would have joined him if it hadn’t hurt so bad that I started choking again.

“OK,” I coughed out. “Next time I’m doing every thing I can to make sure there is no next time after next time. Or whatever. You know what I mean.

“What’ve you been doing with the program while I was out of it, anyway? Suzy, obviously.”

“Nah. You’d made the laptop run forever without having to plug it in, so Matt and I worked up a few restrictions then I stuffed it back into the locker and let it go wild.”

Terry? Mister ‘with great power comes great responsibility?’ The guy who plans out everything and weighs all the options before taking a dump letting Master PC run loose? “Uh … why?”

“Suzy and I thought it was funny. It keeps it out of the way, reduces the temptation to abuse it, and it’s kind of fun watching the chaos. The last few days, Der Fuhrer’s been going mental trying to figure out what’s going on. You should see him, man. It’s been nuts.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I want my laptop back, Terry.”

“I brought it, didn’t I? Besides, I already made a copy. We just want you to be careful with it.”

“We who? You and Matt or you and Suzy?”

“All of us of us. And we checked with your mom, too.”

“You told my mom? How many people did you tell about Master PC?”

“Suzy. Matt found out by himself when I left it running while taking a shower. You think your dick’s big; Matt went totally overboard. You should have seen the look on his face when he told me that he couldn’t fit it inside his girlfriend.”

“Suzy,” I said slowly, letting Terry’s stupidity sink in. He could have had Suzy and any other girl that caught his attention, and he blew it. “So it’s you, Suzy, Matt and my mom.”

So it’s you, me, Suzy, Matt, and Jaimie—Suzy’s sister. Your mom we sort of simulated her and got her opinion without actually letting her know anything about the program.”

“How the hell do you simulate somebody?”

“It’s easy. I’ll show you later. Just take it easy with this thing. It’s dangerous, but you know that already.”

“You bet your ass I do. Probably nobody knows it like I do, so don’t worry. I’m just going to settle things with MacKay and Marian. I’m going to get my jaw put back together right. These fucking scars are going to be toast.”

“You whacking MacKay’s the sort of thing we’re worried about.”

“I’m not whacking anybody. That’s too damn quick for that effing gorilla. Please tell me I didn’t miss the trial.”

“Not even close. His parents have him hiding out with some cousins. Matt and I’ve just kept the guy from getting away, sort-of, until the cops bust him.”

“Why not just tell the cops?”

“I’ve been kinda hoping he’d turn himself in. He’s not that bad a guy, just an idiot who got a hard-on for total bitch. Sorta like you.”

“I had everything under control until—”

“Until MacKay kicked in the door and laid into you with a baseball bat.”

I’d been thinking more along the lines of Suzy interrupting, but Terry probably wouldn’t like hearing that. Instead I said, “And you’re the one letting a guy like that walk the streets.”

“Nope. He’s sitting in a basement certain that the cops’ll get him if he so much as looks out the window. He’ll crack and give up soon.”

“How about the bitch?” I asked.

“Marian? Left her alone. She’s a wreck already. She’s doing home schooling with a panel of shinks trying to keep her head together. She can’t even sleep the night through. Believe it or not she keeps masturbating in her sleep and waking up calling for you.”

Laughing was out, so I chucked softly. Nice to know my first time was still remembered fondly. “Spying?”

“Yeah,” Terry replied, nodding. “Suzy and I looked in on her a couple of times.”

“Suzy? She let you sneak glances at a babe getting off in bed?”

“On her bed. When Marian gets going, the sheets don’t last long. I think Suzy was wondering if Marian would be a good threeway.”

“Whahhh!” Trying to sit up fast was a fucking big mistake. I fell back and tried to stay still. “What? What the hell did you do to Suzy?”

“Me? Nothing! I was showing the program to Suzy—because she would have figured it out sooner or later anyway—and she wanted to know what I saw in her. Tappa-tappa-tap to find out and she accidentally made herself bisexual. Then she turned her step sister into an identical twin so she could try herself out. Next thing I knew, I was having a threesome with two incredibly hot chicks.”

“Suzy did that.”

“Yup.”

My best friend was lost. Hopeless. His eyes pretty much glazed over ever time he so much as said her name. She hadn’t fucked with his brain, had she? “When’s the wedding?”

“What?”

“You and Suzy.”

“I dunno. Never really thought about it.”

Maybe no mind control was needed. All Suzy really had to do was fuck with his cock, apparently. “I’ll bet Suzy has.”

“Yeah,” said Terry after a long pause. “Bet she has.”

“You don’t sound very regretful. What happened to kicking around in university and sampling life?”

His face said that the sampler wasn’t even on the menu anymore. “Drop it, Mike. Let’s get you fixed up so I can get out of here and get some broccoli. Jaimie’s doing a chicken stir-fry. What’s the password?”

Terry’d been domesticated. He had the ultimate sexual party device and he still wound up getting pussy whipped. I took that warning much more seriously than any deliberate cautions he could have tried. “I’ll type it in.”

“With what?” Terry asked. “Your nose?”

I looked at my still-bandaged hands. He had a point. He had a couple, actually, because he kept talking and dropped another.

“Here’s another: If I know your password, I can cover your ass if things go sideways again.”

“No.”

“Fuck, Mike, I’m your friend. How about a show of faith: Mine’s ‘Lenoard-exclamation mark-Borque.’”

I coughed a few times. “That’s pathetic, Terry. I’d have cracked that in five minutes. Lemme guess, Suzy’s ‘Anal Princess.’”

“Not funny.”

Yes it was, but an idiot could tell that Terry and Suzy were in deep and Terry was more than a bit touchy about it. What the fuck? He think I’d zap her and turn her into my slave or something? Suzy’s always been bad news. Odds are I could have kept Marian under control if Suzy hadn’t interrupted, and now she’s fucking up my best friend. Just great.

Time to give a little ground, for now. What the hell, I’d just change the password again later. “OK. You win. Punch in ‘pound-Kelsey-Evans-colon-alt-159-ox-hat-three,’ all one word. The consonants in ‘Kelsey’ and ‘Evans’ are all capped.”

“Kelsey Evans?” he asked hitting keys.

“Kelly Adam’s real name.”

“Shit. You did use a porn star. Alt-159 … that’s the curvy ‘f’ thing, right? Kelly Adams: fox cubed.” Terry snorted as he tapped in the last few characters.

“Hey, you didn’t figure it out. You drive for a while. Start with the jaw, and if you touch my dick, I’ll kill you.”

“Dude, if I had the slightest desire to touch your dick, I’d kill myself.”

“Wise ass. Hurry up. I wanna see if I can catch up with Katelyn on her way out.”

“Whoa. Stay the night, Mike. Have the Docs check you out in the morning in case we missed something. Besides, you don’t really want to go back to school tomorrow, do you?”

You bet your ass I did. I had scores to settle, but Terry quoted Crahn, and he was right. Revenge was a dish best served cold. And Terry had made a copy of the program. And he’d shared it with Suzy. I had to tread lightly. This was going to take some serious thinking things through even with—or especially because of—infinite godly power over a 100-mile radius.

And I’d love to tag Dr. Kent before I sign out. Terry did more than just make her a better doctor, I bet. She’s just too fine!

Monica Cacciatore

Practice was over for the dance squad and after watching the girls prance and dance around for an hour and a half, I was horny as hell. Fortunately I had my very own bimbo sex slave with me. Unfortunately I was actually starting to get tired of her.

“Well if you were tired, you coulda told us and we’da stopped early,” said Monica, misinterpreting what I’d said, as usual.

“Yeah, and everybody always does what I tell them to,” I said sarcastically. “I was on the bench and you were the one exercising, not me.”

“I always do,” she giggled, putting the key to her locker safely away in her purse. After a week of always having to open her locker because she kept forgetting the 40 right, 23 left, 33 right of her combination lock, I pretty much ordered her to get a key lock. Then a few days after that, I taped instructions to the door.

“Take key from purse. Insert key into lock. Turn key to the right until the lock clicks. Remove lock and …” It went on for a while, but it had to be done.

And after reading it, she’d replied, “Oh! Just like the lock at home.”

That left me shaking my head. I felt like I was The Brain and she was Pinky—only dumbed down a lot. If she hadn’t been so much fun in bed, I’d have hunted around for a different sex slave, but now I knew all of her tricks and she just didn’t seem to be interested in trying anything new. I got a bunch of books on sex and was teaching her, but it was slow going.

Monica pretty much had the locker down these days and could operate it by rote, like it’d been burned into her memory through repetition. Nowadays she only screwed it up when she tried to think about it.

The less she thought, the better, I told myself glumly.

“Monica, both of you, could you come over here for a minute?”

The voice sent thrills through my body. My nipples hardened and my pussy got ready to gush. I slowly turned my head to look because if I did it too fast, I’d have fallen over. Sure enough, Miss Jacobs watched us from the door of her classroom.

“I can cum anywhere, Miss Jacobs,” giggled Monica, “Can’t I, Mistress?”

“Monica,” I groaned, “please don’t call me that at school. What’s up, Miss Jacobs?” I’d already taken several steps toward her, leaving my locker wide open.

“Oh. ’Scuse me,” I said, ripping my eyes off the gorgeous English teacher. She should have been a model or an actress or something. I didn’t have her for any classes, thank god—my grade would have been worse than Monica’s.

“Certainly,” said the wet-dream, sending shivers through me. “Take your time.”

I jammed my bag in and slammed the locker shut. I’d finished my homework during Monica’s practice, and after the last time Miss Jacobs had a talk with Monica and me—to tell us not to make out in the halls—I’d been useless for the rest of the night, fantasizing and masturbating and shrieking out orgasm after orgasm. Right on schedule, I was gushing.

“The problem,” said Miss Jacobs after Monica and I took a pair of front row seats, “is that the cheerleaders are all failing to achieve a passing grade in mathematics. Why is that?”

“Cuz it’s hard!” blurted Monica, her hand shooting up fast enough to crack the sound barrier.

The teacher wagged her finger. “It didn’t used to be hard. You used to be one of the better students, Monica.”

That was true, I thought. Last year we’d get together after school and double team the tougher problems. Now we got together and made out all night. We still double teamed, but only when we could snare a guy or another girl. I’d love to double team Miss Jacobs. With that idea at the fore, I zoned out for a while. I daydreamed about making love with Miss Jacobs as I watched her explain something to Monica. The way she smiled, the way her hair swayed as she talked and gestured, the flashing eyes, pouty lips ….

I even lusted over her beautiful fingernails when she pointed at me and said, “What’s missing is attention. We need to do is get your attention, isn’t that right, Monica?”

You sure got my attention! I nodded, drooling. Her breasts weren’t as big as Monica’s but they looked so tasty, especially with her nipples poking through her blouse. “Yeah,” I muttered. My seat was soaked.

“I’d like to start with some simple memory exercises and every time she gets something right, I want you to reward her.”

“How?” I asked. “Give her a gold star?”

“Just do something she likes. Start by kissing her and progress from there. The harder the problem, the bigger the reward.”

“Are you serious? You want us to make out?” I knew I was looking at her funny. Funnier than normal, that is. “You’re not some sort of weirdo who likes to watch, are you?”

“I love to watch,” Miss Jacobs said seriously, “but I love to teach even more, and traditional approaches just aren’t getting through to the girls.”

“So what? Pavlovian conditioning?”

“In a way. The goal is to make them associate learning with fun. I read about it online, but it was a piece of fiction and not being taken very seriously at all. I think that the concept really could work, though.”

I blinked. Then I pulled my trusty vibrating friend out of my knapsack and switched it on. “OK. I’m game.”