Weird Science

The walk to school usually cleared Stacy’s head, the crisp morning air chasing away the lingering fogginess of sleep. But today, the familiar route felt… different. Every pavement crack seemed to hum with a hidden energy, every rustling leaf whispered secrets she was only just beginning to understand. Genie. I’m a genie. The thought still felt surreal, like a bizarre dream she couldn't quite wake up from.

The past few days replayed in her mind in a dizzying montage: the ring, her mother’s cryptic warnings, Carl’s grasping hands, the beach, Victoria, Carl’s antics at school, and then the humiliating strip show on a livestream… It was a whirlwind of magic, manipulation, and deeply unwanted attention. She, Stacy Miller, Queen Bee of Northwood High, effortlessly popular cheerleader, was now bound to a boy she barely tolerated, **** to grant his increasingly crass wishes. It was a cosmic joke, and she was the punchline.

As the school building loomed into view, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over her. Would Carl be waiting? Would he have some new, equally embarrassing wish planned before homeroom? She scanned the milling crowds of students, her stomach tightening.

A small sigh of relief escaped her lips as she reached the main entrance without spotting his familiar, annoying face. Maybe, just maybe, he was running late. Or perhaps he’d misplaced her ring and couldn't make any more wishes! A girl could hope.

She made her way to her locker, navigating the usual morning traffic jam of teenagers. As she approached, she saw someone leaning against the lockers next to hers. Victoria. The beautiful blonde from the beach…er, physics class, looking effortlessly stunning in her school uniform.

Victoria’s face lit up as she saw Stacy. “Hey, Stacy!” she said, pushing off the locker with a bright smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Stacy managed a smile in return, a knot forming in her stomach. Victoria’s memories of Saturday were clearly as hazy as Carl’s were about Stacy, but that didn’t seem to diminish her apparent eagerness to connect. “Hey, Victoria. What’s up?”

Victoria shrugged, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Just waiting for my locker to… cooperate.” She gestured to the stubborn metal door. “It’s being a pain. But hey, while I’m stuck, I was hoping I’d run into you.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a more casual, friendly tone. “I feel like we totally bonded on Saturday, even if I don’t totally remember everything. We should hang out properly sometime. You know, even without the… schoolwork excuse.”

Stacy’s heart gave a small, unexpected flutter. Despite the bizarre circumstances of their meeting, there was something genuinely easy and open about Victoria. And the way she was looking at Stacy, her blue eyes sparkling… there was definitely a flirtatious undercurrent there, too. “Yeah,” Stacy said, trying to sound casual, “that would be cool.”

They chatted about upcoming classes, the latest school gossip, and the general absurdity of high school life. As they talked, Victoria’s playful energy seemed to grow, her laughter a little louder, her touches on Stacy’s arm or shoulder a little more frequent and lingered slightly longer than necessary.

“Oh, hey,” Victoria said, her eyes landing on a small, brightly wrapped box tucked into the handle of Stacy’s locker. “Is that a present? Ooh, someone has a secret admirer!”

Stacy’s smile faltered. A gift? Here? Now? She hadn’t seen it before. Who would leave her a gift? Dread pooled in her stomach. She already had a pretty good idea. “Uh, yeah,” she mumbled, reaching for the box. “I guess.”

Victoria’s eyes widened, full of playful curiosity. “Well, don’t leave me in suspense! Who’s it from? Your boyfriend?”

Stacy winced internally. Her ‘boyfriend’. Right. “Yeah,” she said reluctantly. “Something like that.”

Victoria’s excitement peaked. “Ooh! And he left it at your locker? That’s so cute! You *have* to open it! Come on, open it!” She practically bounced with anticipation, her ample boobs jiggling in turn.

Stacy hesitated. Opening a gift from Carl, here, with Victoria watching, felt like a recipe for disaster. But Victoria was watching her with such eager expectation, and Stacy couldn’t think of a good excuse. “Okay, okay,” she said, reluctantly pulling the box free.

She carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing a small, black velvet box. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the lid. Nestled inside, on a bed of satin, was a g-string thong. It was incredibly fancy, made of delicate black lace, with tiny red hearts embroidered on the fabric and sparkling jewels arranged in a heart shape on the back strap.

Victoria gasped, her eyes widening even further. “Whoa! Stacy, that is *fancy*! And… wow. That’s… bold.” She looked from the thong to Stacy, a knowing grin spreading across her face. “Your boyfriend, whoever he is, must really want to take things to the next level! That’s definitely ‘next level’ lingerie.”

Stacy felt a flush creep up her neck. The thong was undoubtedly sexy, even in its excessive fanciness. It was exactly the kind of over-the-top gesture she’d expect from Carl. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to sound as enthusiastic as Victoria, but the word felt flat on her tongue. Next level, indeed. The ‘next level’ of Carl’s increasingly bizarre demands and her unwilling servitude. She looked at the glittering thong, a mix of **** appreciation for its aesthetic and utter distaste for the person who had given it to her. It was sexy, yes, but it was *from Carl*, a reminder of her gilded cage.

“Whoever they are, I guess they'll be taking you to prom, right?” Victoria said, with the tiniest bit of disappointment in her voice. She shoved the metal door one last time.

Shit. Prom was this Saturday. Stacy froze up uncharacteristically; she couldn't even think about the big dance, let alone attending with Carl….

The first bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. Students began to disperse, heading for their classrooms.

“Well, I gotta run,” Victoria said, giving up on her locker for the moment. “But seriously, let’s hang out soon. Text me?” She gave Stacy a bright smile.

“Definitely,” Stacy replied, clutching the gift box.

Victoria stepped closer and enveloped Stacy in a hug. It was a warm, firm embrace that lingered for a moment longer than a casual friendly hug. Stacy stiffened initially, surprised, but then relaxed into it. The contact felt surprisingly comforting amidst the chaos of her life.

“I think you'd look hot as fuck in those,” Victoria whispered into Stacy's ear as she glanced down at the box. “See ya in physics!”

As she pulled away, their eyes met, and the attraction in Victoria’s gaze was undeniable. Stacy didn’t say it out loud, even to herself in her head, but as Victoria hurried down the hallway, she realized that she hadn’t just tolerated the hug. She had actually… enjoyed it. A small, unexpected warmth spread through her, a tiny spark of something that had nothing to do with genies or wishes or annoying boys with magic rings. It was just… Victoria.

The bell for first period physics rang, a jarring sound that pulled Stacy abruptly from her thoughts. She quickly stashed the velvet box in her locker, promising herself she’d deal with it later. Right now, she just needed to get through physics.

As she walked into the classroom, her eyes immediately landed on Carl, already slouched in his usual seat towards the back. Her stomach clenched. She quickly scanned the room – Victoria was already there too, settling into a seat a few rows over, her smile making a little island of warmth in the otherwise anxiety-inducing room.

Stacy slid into her seat, only a desk away from.… Master…. trying to project an air of bored nonchalance. Carl, however, wasn’t about to let her off the hook. He leaned back in his chair, turning slightly towards her, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Hey, Sparkle-chan,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the low hum of classroom chatter.

Stacy’s blood ran cold. “Don’t call me that here,” she hissed back.

Carl chuckled, a low, irritating sound. “Why not? Getting shy all of a sudden? You know, I’ve been thinking.” His eyes flicked around the room, landing briefly on his friends joking nearby. “This whole secret thing? Kinda lame. I think it’s time I told the guys. Make things… official.”

Stacy’s heart leaped into her throat. Tell his friends? Tell *everyone*? Her reputation, something she’d meticulously crafted and guarded for years, flashed before her eyes – shattered into a million pieces by the revelation that she was the girl performing humiliating stunts for views online. “No,” she said, her voice tight with panic. “You can’t. You absolutely cannot do that.”

Carl leaned closer, his smirk widening. “Oh? And why not? You’re my genie, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be proud?”

“Proud of being your… your puppet?” Stacy retorted, keeping her voice low but laced with fury. “Look, what do you want? What will it take for you to keep this a secret? Name your price.”

Carl tapped a finger against his chin, pretending to consider. “Hmm, a price, huh? That requires some deep thought.” He glanced towards the front of the room, where Ms. Sanchez’s desk remained empty. “Tell you what. I’ll ponder the fate of your precious reputation over class. It’ll give me something to think about while Ms. S bores us with Newton’s laws.”

Just then, Ms. Sanchez bustled into the room, a few minutes late. The usual khakis and sensible sweaters were gone, replaced by a fitted blouse and a skirt that was perhaps a little shorter than usual. Tony nudged Carl, snickering.

“Dude, check out Sanchez,” he muttered. “Totally banging the math teacher. Look at her, suddenly dressing all… date-night.”

Mark chimed in, “Yeah, wonder what she’s rocking underneath. Probably some boring granny stuff though.”

“Yeah,” replied Tony. “Nothing like what our boy Carl’s girl was wearing last night… Sparkle-chan!?”

Ms. Sanchez, oblivious to their commentary, set her bag down and turned to the board, picking up a piece of chalk. She was about to start writing when her phone rang, a loud, insistent jingle. She checked the screen, her expression shifting to one of slight urgency.

“Class,” she said, turning back to them. “I am so sorry, but I need to take this call. It seems important. Please just… review the last chapter quietly. I’ll be right back.” She hurried out of the room, leaving behind a room full of restless teenagers.

Carl’s eyes gleamed with mischief. He glanced at Stacy, then back at the door Ms. Sanchez had exited through. “Okay,” he whispered to Stacy, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “I have an idea.”

Stacy braced herself. “What is it?”

“Okay, picture this,” Carl said, lowering his voice further. “Remember how they were wondering what she’s wearing under those clothes? What if…” He leaned in conspiratorially. “What if her *outer* clothes were only visible *to her*? Like, she thinks she’s fully dressed, but to everyone else…” He trailed off, the implications hanging in the air.

Stacy’s eyes widened in horror. “Master, no! That’s… that’s messed up! You can’t do that!”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “It’s harmless. Just a little magical prank. Think of the look on their faces!” He gestured to his friends, who were now openly speculating about Ms. Sanchez in her absence.

“Because it’s humiliating!” Stacy argued, trying to reason with him. “She’s our teacher!”

“And I’m your master,” Carl reminded her, his voice hardening slightly. He held up the ring, twirling it on his finger. “Besides, you owe me, remember? The livestream? Now, stop being a prude. This is funny.” He closed his eyes for a brief second, a familiar golden glow emanating faintly from the ring in his pocket. He’d made the wish.

A collective gasp rippled through the classroom as the door opened and Ms. Sanchez walked back in, still talking softly into her phone. She walked straight to the blackboard, picking up the chalk again, completely unaware of the magical change that had just occurred.

To everyone’s stunned and disbelieving eyes, she appeared to be dressed in a way that defied the conventional attire of a high school physics teacher. Her blazer and skirt seemed to have vanished, leaving her seemingly clad in an incredibly luxurious black lace bralette and matching thong. Her legs, previously hidden, were now showcased by black thigh-high stockings held up by suspenders attached to the thong, and her feet were still in her black high heels.

Stacy stared, her mind reeling. It was just as Carl had wished. And, despite herself, a small part of her couldn’t help but register how… well, how undeniably sexy Ms. Sanchez looked in that outfit, even if it was the result of a cruel, magical prank.

The silence in the classroom was thick with shock. Students exchanged wide-eyed glances, mouths agape. Some boys instantly tried to avert their gaze, faces flushing, while others simply stared, mesmerized and utterly bewildered.

Ms. Sanchez, finishing her phone call, hung up and turned back to the class, a determined look on her face. She saw their stunned expressions, their wide eyes fixed on her. Misinterpreting their reaction entirely, she sighed, gesturing to the blank blackboard.

“Now, class,” she said, her voice firm but patient. “I know we haven’t *formally* reviewed these types of problems in depth yet, and this one might look a little… challenging at first glance.” She tapped the board with the chalk. “But I need you all to focus. We’re going to tackle it together. At least give it a try!”

She turned back to the board, completely unaware that the 'challenging problem' the students were staring at wasn't the physics equation she was about to write, but her magically altered state of undress. The room remained silent, every eye fixed on the teacher who was attempting to teach physics in provocative lingerie.

“Uh…” said Mark eventually under his breath, “Is anyone else seeing this?”

Ms. Sanchez scanned the room, her stiletto heels clicking against the tile as she pointed her chalk at a squirming Mark. "Mr. Thompson! Since you seem so... *invested* in today's lesson, why don't you demonstrate the first step?" The class erupted in muffled giggles as Mark shuffled forward, his Adam's apple bobbing wildly while Ms. Sanchez bent over her desk to retrieve a textbook - the motion making her lacy thong dig deliciously into plush curves that jiggled with every movement.

Mark’s face burned crimson as Ms. Sanchez’s manicured fingers closed around his wrist, tugging him toward the board with a click of stilettos that made her stockings shimmer under the fluorescent lights. The class held its breath as their teacher’s hips swayed hypnotically, the delicate suspenders stretching taut across her thighs with each step. When she bent forward to scrawl F=ma on the board, the lace thong vanished between cheeks that bounced ever so slightly—a physics demonstration far more captivating than any textbook diagram.

“What’s the matter? What are you looking at? Eyes on the problem, Mr. Thompson,” Ms. Sanchez chided without turning around, her stern voice contrasting deliciously with the way her lace-clad derriere wiggled as she underlined an equation. Mark’s choked whimper drew snickers until she spun suddenly, crossing arms that pushed her bralette’s black lace borders to their tensile limit. “Unless you’d prefer to explain quantum entanglement using…” She trailed off, following his mortified gaze downward to where her nipple peeked through intricate floral patterns. “My *chalkboard*?”

Carl muffled his laughter behind a textbook as Stacy sank lower in her seat, torn between secondhand embarrassment and the traitorous warmth pooling in her belly. Ms. Sanchez’s confidence only amplified the erotic absurdity—when she finally spun around and addressed the class.

“Is there something on my face?” the teacher finally demanded, hands planted on hips. Thirty pairs of eyes darted away as one, the only sound being Tony’s pencil clattering to the floor.

Now, even Victoria’s cheeks bloomed a deep rose as she pressed her thighs together under the desk. The other girls fanned themselves with notebooks, giggles dissolving into nervous coughs.

In an instant, Ms. Sanchez’s phone rang, shattering the tension.

“One moment,” she sighed, striding out with a hip-swaying gait that made her thong ride up deliciously.

The door hadn’t fully closed before Stacy whirled on Carl, her whisper fierce. “Reverse it. Now.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she gripped his wrist, her voice dropping to a husky plea. “I’ll be your *real* girlfriend. PDA between classes. Study dates. Whatever you want.” Her thumb brushed his pulse point as magic shimmered between them—a genie’s bargain sealed with fluttering lashes. “Just wish her clothes back.”

Carl rolled his eyes as he twisted the ring in his fingers and silently mumbled. The classroom door swung open to reveal Ms. Sanchez re-entering—now impeccably dressed in her usual blazer and slacks. The classroom was again confused, but quickly moved on when nothing else unusual happened.

“Better?” he whispered, fingers trailing up Stacy’s thigh beneath the desk. She batted his hand away, cheeks flushing when his pinky grazed the lace edge of her panties.

“By the way, our first date’s gotta be tonight,” he announced, loud enough for Victoria to snap her head around. “Seven sharp. Wear the gift.”

The lead in Stacy’s pencil snapped as she pressed hard. “Of course… Master… but what if we don’t go past… first base,” she begged, crossing her legs tightly as Carl’s shoe nudged her ankle.

“Baby, we’re already rounding second,” he said shaking his head and leaning in close enough to smell her hair.

Ms. Sanchez’s chalk cracked against the board. “Mr. Jacobs! Care to explain why your hand is under Miss Miller’s desk?”

“Just helping her with vectors,” Carl lied smoothly, withdrawing his fingers from where they’d been tracing circles on Stacy’s inner thigh.

The bell rang, not soon enough, and Stacy stood abruptly, her pleated skirt swaying dangerously high.

“Seven. And wear something you can move around in,” Carl added, grinning at the way her throat jumped when his gaze dropped to her chest.

She flipped her hair over one shoulder with a huff, storming out as Victoria lingered behind—wondering what kind of date was in store for the newly minted couple.