The Unexpected Lesson Plan of my Senior Year History Teacher, Ms. Jacobs

I was merely bored in Ms. Jacobs class. I exhausted time doodling, passing notes, and the other diversions of a senior waiting for high school to end already. I found the old book at the library and slipped it into my backpack the morning of class — something to hide under my notes and read to pass the time.

I didn't respect it. I do now. It's not wise to whisper any spell, much less a possession spell, in public. When the room shifted and I felt Ms. Jacob's tits encased in her bra and looked through her thick coke bottle glasses. I knew immediately the spell had worked. I'm not sure how I got through the lesson without anyone noticing.

And worse, I saw myself from across the class. Shrugging and turning the page of the book. I remembered the name of the spell, the description. The Diverted Soul Spell. I cleared my throat and addressed myself, feeling Ms. Jacob's mousey hair around my shoulders and her high sing-songy voice in my throat.

"Brian Thompson, would you like to tell the class what you are reading?"

My form jolted in my desk. "Sorry, it's just a book I got at the library, I'll put it away."

My eyes widened, disconcerted by how fuzzy my vision outside the parameters of Ms. Jacobs thick glasses. Oh god. I was still me. . . yet now the me that had just existed possessed Ms. Jacobs. My soul had diverted and I was now facing ground zero in Ms. Jacobs homely body — with her bad posture, pale skin, mousey hair, and huge glasses. Something made me flex, almost an instinctual pulse of disbelief to see if my balls were still in my pants. They weren't. The pulse happened within, clinging at nothing.

"Brian. Give me the book." I needed it. I needed it to change back.

"No. It's mine."

"I will have to give you detention."

Brian sighed and rummaged at his desk. Okay, okay, hold on. Ms. Jacob's hair fell in my face. I reached out her unmanicured hand and took the book when Brian walked up.

"Thank you, Mr. Thompson. Okay class, everyone self study at your desk."

I walked back to Ms. Jacob's desk, my mind reeling and opened the spell book.

The page was missing.

Oh fuck. He had ripped it out before he gave me the book.

I don't know how I got through the rest of the quarter. Luckily teaching is mostly being one step ahead of the students and working from a teachers manual — not hard at all.

It was a long summer. The first few weeks I spent in Ms. Jacob's car looking for the book in every library and used bookstore across America. It became clear I had the only copy. I went back to Ms. Jacob's lonely apartment defeated and cried.

I stood in the mirror naked and assessed. Ms. Jacob's didn't have a bad body. Her breasts were on the small side and I wasn't sure what had happened in her life to make her so mousey and shy. There was potential. And I realized, too, that I could be any person I wanted.

Every day — when I was Brian — I was waking up with his history, his baggage, his aspirations. Much of them were borrowed from somewhere else. Learned responses to affirmations and punishments by my parents. Coping mechanisms as results to pain. Mindless coding that I had accepted. And now I was Ms. Jacob's, yet I possessed none of her issues. I could see lovingly that all of hers had been fashioned like all of mine.

In the depths of dispair I realized I could simply let the past die and be a new person. I didn't have to be Brian and I didn't have to be Ms. Jacob's.

I then asked myself, where do I want to go? What do I want to do?

I looked around at the pizza boxes flung around her apartment. I had put on a little weight in her body due to depression. "Fuck this." I immediately went to the store and bought healthier food. Fuck diets, I didn't want to suffer, I simply was going to eat healthy things, get outside, find some balance. I walked in her body, went to a class at the gym, settled into her form, and gave myself time to learn what kind of woman I wanted to be. I explored her body in the bath, accepting I possessed it, touching her clit and slowly turning it into mine orgasm after orgasm until I didn't miss having a cock in the least.

Midsummer I booked a ticket abroad, to a foreign country far away, a beach location with good exchange rates for a teacher like myself.

Salons were reasonable there. I shopped the markets and bought clothes. I got a brazilian wax and enjoyed the lushious smoothness of my pussy in the bath. Early one night, licking an ice cream on a long walk through town, I passed a rather plush looking plastic surgery center. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. "Let's do something about my breasts." I stopped into a shop and bought some pink lingerie that would fit my new breasts. I would choose my cup size in the shop. I ducked into the changing room and stuffed the bra that looked the most appealingly big. "Mmm. Perfect." I bought the lingerie, I would wear it once I had recovered from my surgery as a reward. My tits did end up being a little bigger. I sure didn't mind.

I'm coming back to school a new woman. Perhaps I won't work at the school much longer, but for now it is a job. I will make the change when I choose. I am the master of my life. No — the mistress. I am in charge. It is merely a decision of who to be.

I bumped into Mr. Brady the advanced maths teacher this morning. He stammered a moment and then we talked about our summers. "Would you like to get tea later?" I could see he had mustered the self confidence to ask. I respected his decision to ask for what he wanted, I had learned to do the same. I nodded. "Yes. That would be nice."

I walked back to my class in a conservative black dress, feeling the sexy lingerie hugging my curves beneath it, and just the hint of wetness developing along the tight crease where my pussy lips met. I smiled.

I was liking who I was becoming. I was writing the story I wanted to read. If I had been Brian I hoped I would do the same. I wondered how many Brian's now existed on this earth because of the torn out page of the spell book. I hoped that all of them would simply love themselves, in any form, enough to work with what they have to write a nice story.

.

Thank you for reading!

There are two story archs I like exploring lately. One is somewhat dark — along the lines of The Mysterious Stranger (more updates coming) and the other is light — like Eternal Summer. This one is simply a taste of the light side, a test of it — I think there's more to this story, actually, which is why I'm posting it. I'm always curious what people think about lighter stories. Stories where people settle into a change nicely and gracefully. Anyway, I'll keep thinking on it.

- BL Quick