tagExhibitionist & VoyeurMiss Nishida Motivates the Boys

Miss Nishida Motivates the Boys

byCharles Petersunn©

This story was inspired by films of Misa Nishida and Mirai. I apologize to persons who know Japanese much better than I. In any case, I hope you enjoy it, and please note, all characters in this story are at last eighteen years old.

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Miss Misa Nishida taught remedial English at Templeton College. She was happy to do so. She was actually happy to have any professorial employment. Faculty positions were not easy to come by.

But, she was beginning to question her skills. She had taught remedial English for three years now and very few of her students had improved to any significant degree. A number of the more senior faculty were even beginning to complain, as the graduates of her class wound up in their classes with writing skills that continued to be poor. If this was all they could do after taking Miss Nishida's class, then why bother to even offer her class? There was now open discussion of finding someone else to teach the course. If things continued the way they were going, there was no way Miss Nishida would get tenure.

She begged for one more chance. She was working on a new curriculum, new skills lessons, and she was hopeful that they might indeed work. She wanted, at least, just one more year to prove herself, to prove that she could do the job.

They did give her one more year, but if there was no sign of improvement they would let her go. She wouldn't even be given the consideration of possibly obtaining tenure, and if she was let go, there was little chance that she would be able to find employment elsewhere.

But, the fact was that she really didn't have any good ideas. There was no reason to think that her new skills training exercises would have any meaningful effect. She had revised her curriculum virtually every semester, and nothing seemed to work.

At one time she wondered if it was because her English was itself not without significant limitations. She did not speak perfect English. However, the class was concerned with writing skills, not with speaking skills. Her skills in paragraph composition, sentence structure, and thematic presentation were quite excellent.

But, she also had another potential flaw. She might in fact herself be a significant distraction to the students. All of her students were typically male, and she was a very attractive woman. She was Japanese, with very lovely, sparkling, and engaging brown eyes beneath large round spectacles, straight black hair, and quite rosy, dimpled cheeks. She was a petite woman, only 5' 1", but one with very, very large breasts, which were often quite evident as she preferred rather tight clothing. Miss Nishida's dress in fact rarely changed. She liked to wear white blouses, a black jacket, and tight black skirts a few inches above her knees, and black high heels. She felt she needed the heels, as otherwise she would appear even shorter and she wanted to command some authority and respect from the students. And, besides, she liked to display her shapely legs and taught buttocks, which high heels had a nice way of accentuating.

It was clear to her that the male students' eyes were often on her breasts, her legs, or, when walking past or writing on the chalkboard, her derriere. She would often catch their eyes staring at her bottom when she looked behind her, and she would have to scold them to pay attention. They always felt though that they were in fact paying very close attention.

In any case, thinking that she might in fact be the distraction, she dressed down one semester, wearing loose, bland, boring outfits that did little to nothing to make her appealing. It didn't work at all. There was virtually no improvement. If anything, grades slipped.

She was at a loss. She was out of ideas, and would soon be out of a job. She eventually decided to speak to Miss Harding.

Miss Harding taught biology and other science courses. She was also a finalist for Teacher of the Year due in large part to her success in biology. Many of her students were really doing well, much better than in previous years, and it wasn't simply a reflection of grade inflation (see "Miss Harding teachers the boys a lesson" and "The Chess Club," Chapter 9 of "The Lessons"). Her students were scoring well on graduate admissions biology exams, and certainly much higher than previous Templeton students. Miss Nishida was desperate to learn her secret.

She knocked politely on the door to Miss Harding's office. "Yes, yes, come in."

Miss Nishida stepped meekly into Miss Harding's office and briefly, lightly bowed. She would at times fall back on her Japanese customs and mannerisms, particularly when she was in new or difficult situations. "May I speak with you, Miss Harding?" "Yes, certainly Misa, and please, call me 'Pamela.'"

Misa bowed again, "Yes, supashi-bo, thank you, Pamela."

"How can I help you?"

Misa explained her situation, how hard she had tried, her many alternative lesson plans, and even her concern that the students were distracted by her appearance. Miss Harding could see why they would find her distracting. Misa was sitting across from her and her skirt was riding up high on her thighs. She continually had to pull down on the hem or it might even rise up to the top of her stockings. In addition, the buttons on her blouse were straining to be torn free. It was like she was wearing a blouse that was a size much too small, her breasts were pushing out so hard. With breasts that large, though, it might be difficult to find a good fit. Yet, amidst all that she had the most innocent face, with large, almond shaped eyes, sparkling behind her fragile spectacles. It was obvious to Miss Harding what she needed to do.

She spoke with command and authority. "Miss Nishida, you say that they find your appearance quite distracting."

"Yes, Miss Harding."

"And so you attempted to downplay, tone down, and even denigrate your appearance to try to offset your demonstrable effect on their interest and attention."

"Hai."

"All to no effect. If anything, their performance even worsened."

"Hai."

"Well, Miss Nishida, I would suggest you do the opposite."

"Excuse please?"

"There is a Shingon Buddhist principle, Miss Nishida, called shugenja." It felt somewhat odd to be explaining Zen philosophy to an oriental woman, but perhaps that was rather typecasting of her. "The principle of the shugenja dialectic is embracing the opposite. You overcome through acceptance rather than through opposition. Abuse is healed through forgiveness, not through condemnation."

Miss Nishida was only vaguely familiar with the teachings of Shingon philosophy, but she did understand the basic principle of embracing the opposite. She nodded her head as Miss Harding continued to explain her proposal.

"If it is your appearance that is distracting to them, rather than hide it, display it."

"Onegai? Please?"

"Use your appeal, your beauty, to your advantage. If it is you they want, then make yourself, your appearance, you, contingent on their performance."

"Intriguing, yes." Misa nodded. This was most interesting. She could do this. This could work. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. That which is of most interest, most reinforcing, should be, would be, that which would motivate the boys to learn.

"If you have doubts about the appropriateness of your curriculum, I suggest that you also speak to Mr. Peters. He certainly has the full trust and faith of the President and the Board (e.g., see "The Lessons, Chapters 1, 4 &17"), and he is very open to innovative pedagogy. If he endorses your prospectus for the next semester, and I am confident he will, then I feel that you should feel reasonably comfortable in its implementation."

Miss Nishida had, of course, heard of Mr. Peters. He had considerable respect amongst the faculty, and quite a reputation for original, even ingenious, approaches to motivating students.

"In any case, I believe you should do what you feel is in your heart, what is necessary for the education, for the growth, of your students. What comes first is their education, and if we have the means of furthering their academic development, well, we should at least try."

"Yes, I am most grateful, Miss Harding, yes, thank you."

"Well, I do wish you the best of luck. Perhaps by this time next year, you will be a finalist for Teacher of the Year."

Just the thought of that possibility sent chills down Miss Nishida's spine. Imagine if that actually happened! She would be thrilled just to keep her job. Imagine if someday she even won Teacher of the Year. "You really think I could win, someday?"

"Miss Nishida, you are blessed with tremendous natural talents to influence, to motivate, to inspire, young men. I don't see how you could not be successful."

Miss Nishida gave Miss Harding's suggestion considerable thought. She was not entirely sure what Miss Harding was suggesting, but as she devised her plan it just seemed to all make sense, to fall into place. She at least felt that it was truer to her heritage, the principles of Shingon.

She worked up a detailed curriculum, which she then ran by Mr. Peters, as suggested by Miss Harding. Just as Miss Harding had suggested, Mr. Peters not only approved, he was fully enthusiastic. He hadn't seen anything as innovative as this in years. "Miss Nishida, your curriculum rivals The Program," an avante-garde manner of instruction recently implemented at Abberville, his previous employer. "If you find that you are having any difficulty, or meet with any resistance, please do not hesitate to contact me."

Miss Nishida was ecstatic, and she looked forward to the next semester with new hope, and considerable excitement.

Week One

A semester at Templeton consists of essentially 15 weeks of classes, with about three classes per week. The first class was confined to simply handing out the syllabus and explaining the curriculum. She went through the usual routine of the first day, talking about the required text, the reading assignments, the quizzes each week, the homework assignments, the tests, and the basis for the final grades. There were five boys in the class and, consistent with the past three years, they appeared to be much more interested in her breasts, legs, and bottom, than with the curriculum. Miss Nishida smiled to herself. She had in fact worn a particularly tight blouse and short, tight skirt on this first day of class. She wanted to generate as much motivation on the part of the students as she could.

When she had completed all that she would normally have covered that first day, she turned around and wrote the words, "Motivation, Work, Success, Reward," on the blackboard. She stepped back to allow the students to see what she wrote, and then erased it.

That was confusing, at least to those who were paying any attention.

"Hai, and what did I write? Anyone?"

Two of the students were paying attention and both remembered. Alex got his hand up first.

"Alex, very good. What was it?"

"Motivation, Work, Success, Reward."

"Hai, sore yo! Very good. I will be using new motivational tools this semester to encourage you to study harder, to pay more attention, to get better grades." She smiled with enthusiastic optimism, but they all just gave her a blank stare. Wouldn't you feel, or hope, that students would be enthusiastic about, or at least interested in, how their study habits and grades could be improved? The blankness of their stares was so disappointing. "Yes, well."

Miss Nishida then walked up to Alex, sitting in the traditional combination desk-chair. She smiled down at him. He looked up at her or, more accurately, at her breasts that now seemed to be towering over him. "Your correct answer to my question was success, Alex." She then leaned down and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "And, that is the reward."

That caught everyone's attention, especially Alex. As her lips touched his cheek he flinched in shock. The other boys mouths fell open. Alex lightly felt his cheek as she walked back to the front of the class, her heels clicking across the floor, her bottom waving goodbye. The boys followed her every room. This was a most unpredictable and unusual teacher.

"Each week, on Friday, the student who performed the best during the previous week, who was most successful, will get award. Each week award will get better. I won't say in advance what award might be, but most of you will see it."

She definitely had the students attention now, although they didn't have much idea what she was talking about.

"Now, to be fair, there will be a few extra rules." She raised a finger to emphasize her points. "You can't be rewarded two weeks in row. Everyone must feel they have chance. And, boy with lowest performance each week is ineligible to view the award ceremony." It wasn't really clear why anyone would care about that, although it was kind of cool seeing Miss Nishida give Alex a kiss. "Are there any questions?"

David raised his hand.

"Yes, David?"

"Miss Nishida, what's the award?"

Teaching remedial English can be so frustrating. She smiled patiently though, not wanting to convey her frustration at his inattention. It was best to be patient, to be considerate and tolerant. "David, sorry, I won't say in advance what award will be."

"Yea, but if I don't know what the award will be, why would I work for it?"

"Each week award will improve. This week, I gave Alex first award. I don't believe I need to say anything else. Class dismissed."

The boys were understandably intrigued and mystified. But, Miss Nishida would not offer any further explanation.

Week Two

Through the rest of the first week and the first two days of the second week, she continued to dress as attractively, as revealingly, and at times as provocatively, as would be allowed for a Templeton professor. None of the boys, however, seemed to be taking her suggestion to heart. They were clearly paying much more attention to her cleavage, her nylons, her legs, her ankles, her bottom, her breasts, than to anything she was writing on the board or saying. Dressing down didn't seem to improve their grades, but dressing more provocatively did seem to provide an even greater distraction. She was concerned. Perhaps this new approach wasn't such a good idea after all.

In fact, when the following week's Friday did arrive, she had discovered that their performance was even lagging behind last year's students. Her supposed innovation was actually making matters worse. She was sorely disappointed. She even considered cancelling the entire plan. She stopped by Mr. Peters' office Friday morning and sought his advice, his guidance.

He reassured her. He told her to stick to the plan. Few great discoveries in pedagogy work smoothly right out of the gate. She must give it time to work, and she had hardly done that. Frankly, he wondered if she needed a motivational boost, which he would gladly provide.

She did not take him up on his offer, whatever it was. But, she did find their discussion helpful. She went to the class with renewed hope.

The students paid little attention to her lecture that day, their eyes again fixed on her bust, as well as waiting to hear who would win the award and, perhaps most importantly, what that award would be. She held that information until the last minutes of the class.

"Alright boys, I imagine you have been wondering who wins the award this week."

Most of them were indeed curious, but a couple could care less, particularly David.

Miss Nishida stood before the class, her breasts jutting out proudly as she herself read proudly from her class list. "Well, the best performance this week was put forth by Eddie. Omedito gozaimas!" She clapped her hands. A few of the boys joined in, albeit with considerably less enthusiasm.

Eddie hadn't actually worked that hard. He was just the brightest boy in the class, next to Alex, and naturally got the next highest grade (Alex didn't qualify, as he had won the award the previous week). Eddie could actually be an excellent student but he never applied himself. He devoted his time, his life, to computer games. It was unbelievable how much time he could waste. It was so frustrating to his parents. They repeatedly tried to get him out of his room, to at least do something outdoors, if he wasn't going to study, but he just kept his eyes glued to the computer, trying to conquer the barbarian civilizations.

Eddie grinned proudly over having won the award. He was quite surprised as he wasn't actually paying much attention to even the possibility of winning. He didn't really try to win.

"But, I must also announce, of course, the lowest marks this week. They were by David." This wasn't surprising either. He had paid the least amount of attention to her lectures throughout the week. Miss Nishida turned to David and gave a polite bow. "So sorry, David, but you can go now."

David shrugged with abject indifference. Frankly, it seemed to him that he actually just got the best reward. He gets to leave class early. He thought, 'These poor schmucks have to stick around and see the nerd get some stupid award.' "Okay, that's okay, Miss Nishida. Catch you later."

Miss Nishida waited as he slowly got up to leave. As he walked off she bowed politely again. "Sayonara. Sumimasen."

Once David had left the room she turned back to Eddie and smiled cheerfully. "Alright then, Eddie, please come up to front of class to get award?"

He gladly did so, although he stumbled somewhat getting up the aisle. He wasn't particularly dexterous. He came to the front of the class.

"Over here, Eddie." She turned sideways to the class, the profile of her prominent breasts drawing considerable attention. "Stand right in front of me."

This was now becoming very intriguing. Eddie could feel his heart rate accelerating and palms sweating as he stepped up to Miss Nishida. She was such a hot looking teacher. As he approached her breasts just seemed to get bigger and bigger and bigger. He stopped about a foot away, which was pretty awfully close.

"No, no, Eddie, stand right up against me."

"Excuse me?"

"I want your chest to touch mine."

Which meant that his chest would touch her tits? She couldn't be serious, but that was certainly, quite clearly, what she was saying, wasn't it? He tentatively stepped forward until his chest lightly, very lightly, just barely, touched the tips of her breasts through her blouse. He swallowed. The room was deadly silent.

"Now, kiss me, Eddie."

A bit of murmuring in the class could be heard, and a bit of shifting in chairs.

"Kiss you, Miss Nishida?"

"Yes, Eddie, that is your award. It has been my impression that you do find me attractive, at least a bit, don't you?"

Eddie wasn't sure what to say. The answer was, of course, 'yes,' but it was a little embarrassing to acknowledge this in front of the other guys, even though they found her equally attractive. What boy in this class didn't find this short, pretty teacher with the giant jugs attractive?

"I have noticed you admiring me." Quite a bit of shifting in chairs could now be heard. Eddie turned his eyes away from Miss Nishida in embarrassment, looking down, but in doing so he was looking right into those lusciously huge melons, straining the constraints of her blouse. In fact, he could even see a bit through the silk of her blouse, and she was wearing a very colorful lace brassiere. His dick started swelling in his slacks. "Haven't you ever had the thought, the fantasy, of kissing teacher?"

He had considerably more significant fantasies than just kissing her, but it was very awkward, to say the least, to admit to any such fantasy to her face, and, even worse, in front of his fellow students. What boy wants to tell his teacher that he would like to kiss her in front of the other students? He in fact remembered as a boy once telling a teacher that he liked her as he handed her a present his mother had bought for him, telling him that her teacher would like it very much, but when he presented it to her everybody just started laughing. Even the teacher seemed to be more amused than flattered.

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byCharles Petersunn© 24 comments/ 312257 views/ 102 favorites

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