Chapter 37: Where Michael Was

Jamie Brown was a nervous wreck.

Beginning a six-week stint as a student teacher for her old science teacher and mentor, Ossie Polk, she was afraid she would not look professional. To me, she looked as drab as her name, and it was no accident – the comely 22-year-old senior as East Cal Tech wanted to impress her former teacher with her brain, not dazzle all the young students in his class.

As a result, Jamie came to school wearing less makeup than most of the 10th-graders she would be instructing, and certainly less than she wore at their age. Her wardrobe consisted of flats instead of modest heels, pants one size too big instead of one size too small.

She knew her platinum blonde hair would still command unwanted attention, so she actually rinsed it out as an almost neutral blonde color tint. She pulled it into a ponytail without any kind of flourish and pronounced herself ready for combat. Upon arrival, her hair color in particular, drew a double-take from Mr. Polk, who seemed disappointed.

"Well, Ms. Brown, are you ready to make the big switch?" he asked with a smile.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her nerves ratcheting up another notch.

"The change from student..."

" ... to teacher!" she laughed. "Yes, sir, I guess I am."

"Remember, you're the 'Yes, ma'am' now," he laughed with her, hoping he would settle her nerves.

"But you'll stay in here with me?" she said hopefully.

"By law, I have to," he explained. "But I will enjoy seeing one of my favorite students lead a class, too."

"Hope I don't let you down, sir," she said brightly.

"You never have," Polk said. "You know, that ponytail makes you look 15 again, especially with no makeup. Putting a little on will project you a little more seriously."

"You sound like an expert," Jamie said.

"Just an old-timer who has put more than a few student teachers through his or her paces," he nodded. "But I can tell you're really nervous."

"Yes, sir, I am," she wrung her hands. She would not in a million years tell him that when she left the house in such a hurry, she'd forgotten to take her meds for a long-controlled bipolar condition.

"One, cut our the 'sir' shit," he said, startling her.

"Yes, sir – oh, shit. I mean, I will," she said seriously.

Polk, enjoying this like a proud parent, handed Jamie a large stack of papers.

"Here is the chapter-by-chapter study guide, and that..." he pointed at a massive encyclopedia on his podium, " ... is your textbook."

Her gulp was audible.

Sitting at a side table, she was focused on the lesson plan the first day, hoping she was invisible until such time as he introduced her, as her first couple of days were all about observing Polk, very much the man in charge and in his comfort zone. But even though I was in the class to accompany Candice, I noticed the hot chick trying to be not hot.

On day three he introduced her, and despite all her preparation, she perked up at the sound of her name.

I was interested to watch her in action because I was curious to see how an outsider – Jamie – would be influenced by the compound Smith and I used to undo most of Meredith's damage. Polk let me hang so long as I didn't disrupt anything.

" ... not that long ago, Ms. Brown was one of you," Polk was saying. "Please give her the courtesy you would give me."

She stepped up to the podium and put on a completely superfluous pair of glasses and looked out at the 25 sophomore science students. Ten boys and 15 girls -- mostly juniors and a few advanced sophomores and all likely college material -- looked back with curiosity, interest and some amusement. So did I – because her gaze rested on Candice for an extended period of time, and her resentful expression was telling.

"Thank you for your attention," she began, trying to smile and look serious at the same time. "Please keep in mind that I'm a student teacher. I'm one of you. I'm not the enemy."

That drew some appreciative laughter and helped break the ice.

"I'll be here the next six weeks, and I hope we can learn from one another," Jamie continued. "The section we are going to cover will concern mitosis, cytokinesis and how and why cells mutate. Why they mutate and why some of the mutations are carcinogenic."

I checked my watch and silently slipped on my surgical mask – plenty sufficient to keep the compound out of my system. I alone had a mask; I had some concerns that I needed to reinforce Candice's programming. The spray was set on a timer I'd set the day before.

Our attempt to shut down and negate Meredith's rampage was to hit each classroom at once and reprogram those I'd lost. At the same time, I would be adding virtually the school's entire female population in the process. Smith admitted that it was a mystery that the later versions of the aerosol had almost no effect on the guys other than having them accept anything that was happening.

Also pre-set was my now-vetted instructions that would be played on the intercom once the spray was certain to be in 100 percent of the classrooms.

But only here, in Polk's room, was there an outsider who had not received a previous dose. Jamie's demeanor would deteriorate slowly, we believed.

But I had a personal interest in this phase of the program – and, yes, I knew it was a program by now – is that Meredith had altered Candice's programming to where she was feeling very ambiguous about me. I wanted to nip that in the bud and get my supermodel back in my bed. As the spray began, she was sitting a single seat away from me, pretending I wasn't there.

Once the spray was deployed, the always awkward silent period struck, where everybody pretty much stopped what they were doing without reacting (or passing out). During this time I was able to reload all of my specific commands for Candice. Her loyalty would never wane from this day forward, but she would be a much more thoughtful partner, one who would argue or disagree. It was a more complete Candice.

But my last command to her was, "Play along with anything Jamie says. She has a hard-on for you and we want her to think you're subservient to her."

Jamie was regaining her awareness. It would be fascinating to hear where her head had been.

"I look the way I do here today -- straight, drab hair, shapeless blouse, courdory pants, flats -- because I want you to look at me and see someone who is serious," she said, oblivious to the mist.

"What do you mean?" asked a cute blonde, who properly raised her hand. "You mean you made yourself look less attractive on purpose?"

"Sure," Jamie replied. "But you're not supposed to see meand think that. To be most effective as a teacher, I need you to look up here and see me, simply see only your teacher. If you're thinking 'I bet she's really attractive when she wants to be, ' I've already lost your focus."

She turned her back to the class so that they had no choice but to look at her perfect, toned ass.

"Girls, tell the guys why I'm wearing granny panties whose outline is obvious," Jamie said.

A brunette who seemed to have made a similar effort to dress down, raised her hand. Jamie, now clearly in charge, nodded in her direction.

"'Cause guys will see no panty line and wonder if you're wearing a thong, or..." she began but caught herself.

"Or?" Jamie grinned.

"Or ... if you're wearing anything at all?" she added meekly.

"Right! Of course," Jamie laughed, catching Mr. Polk's nod of approval off to the side. "And I've yet to meet a guy who is turned on by granny panties -- even on a perfect butt like mine." She stuck out one hip and smacked it with her hand as she turned to write on the board.

Several students looked at one another while her back was turned.

Wow Reese Taylor mouthed silently to his best bud, Andrew Jennings. Andrew rolled his eyes back into his head; he saw it, too.

"Better butt than yours, Cyndi," he whispered to the blonde in front of him, the one who'd raised her hand earlier. Cyndi quickly texted a response to Andrew, who had his iPhone discretely propped up, out of sight.

Not fucking likely! she typed.

How many pair of granny panties do you own? Andrew texted back. As Cyndi was looking at the message and typing NONE. THANK GOD, a voice came from over her shoulder.

"Would you like to read that to the class Miss Tyler?" said Mr. Polk in a deceptively pleasant voice.

"No, sir," she admitted, trying to put the unit away without further embarassment.

"Oh, but I insist," he said.

"Sorry, sir. One of the boys was teasing me about granny panties," she said, blushing.

That drew some snickers, but a quick, stern glance from Mr. Polk quieted the uprising.

"It would not be proper to ask the obvious question," Polk said, returning to his corner seat with a twinkle in his eye. "So I'll ask you this instead -- what do you do, as an individual, to be taken seriously? Highlights in your hair? Purple nail polish? Annoying loud jewelry?"

"I try to always be on time ... make good grades," Cyndi stammered.

"But then you play the little tease after class," Polk snapped. "Don't look so shocked -- every teacher in your grade has seen your little flirty act. The only serious you understand is being a serious disturbance to every the concentration of every ususpecting male in your classes."

"That's not true!" she shouted, teary eyed.

Polk was not moved.

"OK, then. So prove you're a serious student. Come to class tomorrow dressed just like Ms. Brown. No heels, no little lacy skirt or fruity perfume. In fact, I dare you to reclaim your old, God-given hair color."

Cyndi bit back the welling tears. "OK, sir. I can do that. It's a bet," she said. Polk walked over to her and shook her hand, causing her jewelry to rattle, which of course drew another laugh for the class.

Jamie cleared her throat, drawing attention back to herself.

"I am hoping to be taken seriously here," she said. "I would like you ladies to make the same effort. I am looking at a room full of bright young men and, especially, women who are putting style ahead of substance. So here's an idea for you dazzling young women – beginning tomorrow, all of you be sure you leave all the noisy, rattling jewelery at home. I'm sure you can pull off your look without it."

She was looking at Candice – her eyes betraying her evolving thoughts: Because you are one hot fucking piece of pussy.

"That is an excellent idea," Polk said. "What do you need to do or are doing to be taken seriously in class? How about school in general? Have a 100-word essay written for Miss Brown and I tomorrow."

A few moments later, the bell rang to end the class, which also was the beginning of Polk's planning time. In the quiet classroom, Polk rolled his swivel chair closer to Jamie's.

"You think you can pull off that performance twice more?" he said, hand on her knee.

"Sure. I think so," she said, somehow knowing so. Polk gave her leg a gentle squeeze, which

That night, Jamie had to prepare herself for a day of transformations. She would start out looking as she did on Monday, but her drab hair was now a wig covering a lustrous mane of shining golden blonde hair – complete with highlights.

Candice, trying to face the challenge put to her, could not get past the mirror. Her hair – her pride and joy and, often, her meal tickets as much as her boobs – was still very blonde. But once she had the idea of acquiring a wig, the rest was easy.

The result was that Jamie and Candice came to class that day looking like identical twins. The similarity was amazing.

"Michael, I've been changed again," she said when she noticed me standing there. "I have no compulsion to call you Master any more. But I know when you speak, I will obey."

"Not that you must obey?" I asked, more out of curiosity.

She thought it through. "No. I will. And I will," she said. "Because at my core I cannot get away from the fact I am bound to you."

"The main thing about tomorrow, and coming days with Jamie, is that we are looking to see how she changes and is changed," I said. "I have made sure that I won't lose you, that I'll never lose you."

"You almost did," she said. "I'm pretty sure you almost did."

"I don't know everything about having power over others," I said. "But I am certain of one thing: I am still learning."

"So you won't brain fry Jamie if she tries to control me," she said, relaxing.

"Nope," I said. "I am all about rolling with it for my own amusement."

"Sounds like an appropriate use of power, ' Candice said.

Jamie nearly broke out in a big smile when she saw her doppleganger mope into the classroom. They had not talked but their clothes could not be more alike. Almost identical flannel shirts, tied off at the beltline, hip hugging khakis with a wide belt, sandals and dull blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.

They exchanged a gentle touch of one another's cheek as Candice passed on her way into the room. Neither smiled. Cyndi came in a few moments later, dressed exactly as Polk had directed her, but Jamie did not so much as acknowledge her -- her focus was now on my girl.

As Jamie was the only one in the room who did not know who I was, I came in alone and said one row over from Candice with some of my old slacker friends. Jamie called roll without looking up.

"Here's today's lesson," she began, looking directly at my lady. "Here is Candice Pryor, the reigning?"

"Former," Candice said quietly, looking down.

"The former Miss Teen Daytown and a Miss Sunny Tropic finalist," Jamie corrected herself."She is a swimsuit model who makes more money that all of us put together in our summer jobs.

"And here you have ... me! A dowdy student teacher who does nothing to make you putter flutter – that's a golf term, Mr. Polk."

"I'm aware," said the teacher.

"But look at us now. There's not a dime's worth of difference between us. Which of us would you rather go out with? The supermodel?" Candice got a generous show of hands. "Or the the student teachers?" No hands raised.

"And of course you know that's because Candice doesn't really look like ... this. And I, as far as you know, look nothing like Candice!" Heads nodded all around. Polk smiled. Candice looked a little spooked, which might actually have been the case if she harbored any self-doubts about her own looks, or her programming.

"Candice, how do you feel?" Jamie asked her.

"Don't really know ... inconspicuous, I guess. I kinda like it!" she offered a weak smile.

You want to keep looking that way?" Jamie asked, the question I had expected and, frankly, had worried about.

"Sure. Why not?" Candice nodded.

"No one will ever point at you again. You'll never have to feel you're in the fishbowl," Jamie said, eyes getting a little wild. "This is the way you will always want to look. Sit there and become a nobody."

Candice looked surprised, but avoided looking at me. She did as she was told. What an actress. I avoided getting angry because this was a little sociology experiment – but I was glad for the moment that Jamie did not have that kind of power or control over Candice or anyone.

While the delusional Jamie did not know what was going on from our end, one of the other boys in class threw a glance at me. I subtly shook my head and he nodded, equally inconspicuous.

"Girls, what I am about to tell you is beyond dispute," she said, rising up into her role. "You need to know that the second best taste in the known universe is hot cum from a hard teenage cock. Who here has not yet experienced it?"

Several girls raised their hands as if being asked about centigrade vs. Fahrenheit. The boys, unaffected, were merely amused, as was I. Jamie pointed at a petite freckle-faced blonde who was still wearing a retainer.

"What's your name, honey?" Jamie asked with a sweet smile.

"Uh, Jo Thomas. Short for Josephine but no one calls me that," she answered earnestly.

"Well, little Jo, you need to come up here to the front of the room," she gestured. "Mr. Polk?"

The teacher, who was under my commandment, was sitting off to the side slowly rubbing the lump in his pants. "Huh?"

"Would you sit up front here and let little Jo find out what she's been missing?" Jamie made another gesture towards his main desk, which was surprisingly clean for a male teacher. Polk stood up and began unzipping his slacks as he sauntered over.

"I'd rather it'd be you, Miss Brown," Polk said, "but there's never a time to say no to a blowjob."

Polk grinned when his firm 8-incher drew some appreciative oohs and aahs. He gestured to Jo, who walked directly up to him.

"Josey, you're a terrific student in my class, in part because you believe in the Scientific Method," he said, jiggling his dick up to full hardness. "Consider this a voyage of discovery..."

"Mr. Polk, I have to step out for just a moment," Jamie said as she edged towards the door.

Polk nodded. "Jo and I have this," he said.

"Okay, Jo, you need to familiarize yourself with the male penis if you are to because proficient at cocksucking," he said formally.