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The Flight Instructor

John Smith was a forty-two year old flight instructor with a small, but popular flight training
centre-popular because most of the students at the busy little school were his. He worked for
the school on a contract basis, taking an initial trial introductory prospective for their first
interview, aptitude test, and short airborne coordination flight to ascertain whether or not
they had two left feet. And the prospective student always came back and enrolled in a flying
course for their private pilot licence. But that was always a foregone conclusion as far as
John was concerned.

His employer wondered and often asked how he did it, but John would always just
smile and tell him he was having a good-hair day again, and leave it at that. What seemed
even stranger to John's employer, as well as the other flight instructors was that John had
never yet succeeded in signing up any male students, of which he had plenty of prospects
supplied. It seemed to everyone who was interested enough to notice, that all of John's
students, were women.

And now, at one-thirty on a Friday afternoon he had another one. She was a thirty-
nine year old housewife who had always wanted to fly, but with raising kids and looking after
her household, had never had the chance or the finances to pursue her dream. She came to
the school to see if they thought she had the aptitude to succeed. Not wanting to lose a
prospective customer, the manager had given her to John, as he did with most of the female
applicants, unless John wasn't available.

John had taken her into the interview room and had closed the door, hanging out the
'Do not disturb' sign on the knob on the outside, and discreetly turning his back after he'd
closed it and flicking the snib lock to 'up', and actually locking the door from the inside. He
didn't want any interruptions during the 'interview' process. John wasn't an evil or a bad
person. He just liked to have some fun, without anybody ever getting hurt, and, with him,
nobody ever did, nor did they ever complain or fail to achieve the pilot licence.

He walked over and picked up his special model aircraft and placed it on the desk in
front of the smiling woman, noticing she looked excited, although a little bit nervous. He
smiled warmly at her, observing a little of the tension leave her face immediately. Then he
sat down across the desk from her and smiled once again.

"Tell me a little of yourself." he said to her, their formal introductions having already
been dispensed with at the front counter. The woman named Sandy Robinson smiled a half-
smile back at him as he settled back to listen to how much of herself she was going to
"Well." she began. "I'm a house wife, or I was, rather. I'm divorced now. Twelve
months ago, actually. I have two children, sixteen and eighteen, a boy and a girl. And I now
have the time to learn to fly-something I've always wanted to do fro as long as I can
remember, but you know how it is-family and husband and all that."

John watched her shrug when she said the word, 'husband.' He thought her husband
must have been a fool to let her go, or maybe she let him go. No matter, he decided. He'd
find out in the fullness of time. He always did, and they always told him-everything. He
smiled at her, not saying anything, just waiting for her to say everything she'd planned on
saying. When he didn't speak she drew breath to continue.

"When I looked up all the flying schools in the book," she went on. "Yours was the
only one who advertised some type of assessment as to whether prospective students were
even capable of learning. So I figured you must be an honest school because of that."

John smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Sandy." he said, and then went silent again. He
could tell she wasn't yet finished what she had planned to say. The negativity should come
next, if predictability ran true to form, which it usually did.

"I'm really not sure if I can do it." she began again. "I was never any good at maths at
school. Wasn't interested in it really. But I'm hoping if I show that I'm keen enough, maybe
you'll be able to teach me what I have to learn and know. But I haven't studied for years. I
wouldn't even know how to now."

John maintained his polite smile in a fixed position on his face. She should be just
about done, except for the final question they always asked. He waited patiently while she
waited for him to speak. He said nothing.

"Do you think I could learn, and get my pilot licence?" she said after realising he
wasn't going to say anything else.

That was it, John concluded. This was the point where they wanted him to speak.
They'd said their piece and were always grateful unknowingly for him allowing to talk
uninterrupted, until they reached that exact point in time that she'd reached right now as she
looked open-eyed at him expectantly, as if he had the answer to all of life's problems for
them. He drew breath to speak, noticing her settle back a little more into her chair when she
saw him getting ready to speak. He smiled warmly at her.

"Sandy," he began, getting her used to his familiarity from the beginning. "Anybody
can do anything they want to, if they really want to. The fact that you haven't studied for a
long time, and that you never liked maths much doesn't really come into it at all."

He saw the relief begin around her mouth as it relaxed into a hopeful smile at hearing
the words she had been hoping he would say.

"All that really matters to you is that you really want to commit just a little of your
serious, quality time to achieving your dream, and then everything will happen, just as you
want it to." he told her genuinely. Now he waited for the next question they always asked at t
his point. So he stopped talking and again invoked his patience.
"Do I have a choice in my instructors?" Sandy asked right on cue.
John smiled. "Of course you do." he told her. "Did you have anybody in mind?"
Sandy looked down at the model plane on the desk for a few seconds. She wondered
if he would think her forward, then decided what the hell and said it anyway.

"Would you be available to teach me?" she said with a smile. "I think I could learn
from you. And I don't want to be thought of or treated just like a dollar. Besides, you're more
my age. I think I'd feel more comfortable with you."

John smiled at the predictability of the average prospective student in his profession.
"Yes." he answered her, seeing her smile broaden instantly. "But first I have to complete an
assessment report on your coordination."

Sandy felt her smile vanish without her control. She hated tests.
"Don't look so worried." John reassured her immediately. "I'll help you and then let
you know how you went before we even leave this room. After all, that was the main reason
you selected us. Wasn't it?"

Sandy felt relieved again. She had chosen well in selecting this school and meeting
him. He seemed really professional and friendly-just the sort of teacher she had always
wanted at school, but never managed to be lucky enough to get. It was probably why she
never really did very well, she figured as she watched him politely watching her. She nodded
in answer to his question.

John leaned over and picked up the model aircraft off the desk and held it up in front
of his chin. It was a single engine model of a world war two spitfire-an exact replica. But it
was more than that. It had a larger than normal propellor that actually turned. There was a
tiny button underneath the belly of the model. When it was pressed, a small battery inside the
fuselage of the model activated the propellor and it would spin at a rate especially selected
by John, expressly for the purposes of holding the concentration of anyone who happened to
be looking at it. The propellor itself had been painted with an especially designed spiral of
luminescent paint that glowed in the dark, thereby enhancing the hypnotic effect of the
spinning hypnotic spiralling propellor in the mind and consciousness of the observer.

"This is a model aircraft, as you can see, Sandy." John told her, flicking the propellor
with his finger and spinning it a little. "You will be starting off in a single engine plane
similar in the number of engines as this one. What we're going to do now is to just check on
the strength of your ability to concentrate and relax at the same time. I'm going to turn off
the light so you can really do your best."

John paused for a moment and flicked the propellor, making it spin again until it
would down, giving Sandy a chance to experience a little of what she would seen experience
in full.

" In the future," he continued. "you'll want to learn how to fly at night, and testing
your ability to relax and concentrate at the same time in the dark is the best way to find out if
you've really got what it takes to relax and concentrate at the same time. That's why our
students always pass their final flight test on their first attempt. I'll turn on the small desk
lamp over there in the corner in a moment, so we can see what we're doing, but generally, it
will be fairly dark, except for the propellor of the aircraft. It will be spinning and you'll
always be able to see that quite clearly, and hear the sound of my voice. All I want you to do
is to follow the sound of my voice as if I was your co-pilot and telling you instructions on
what to do, just like I really will be doing when you fly off on your first solo flight. How does
all this sound so far?"

Sandy was beside herself. It was all so exciting. And he was already talking of her
first solo. Her pulse quickened a little and she could feel the excitement building as her heart
began to hammer against her ribs.

John got up and walked over to the desk lamp well behind where Sandy was sitting
and turned it on. Then he walked tot he door and turned off the overhead flourescent light.
The room was immediately plunged into almost darkness, except from the dull glow of the
desk lamp throwing off a small ray of light that John had purposely directed at the floor.
Then he walked back to where Sandy was sitting and stood sat down in a chair beside her,
reaching across the table and picking up the model aircraft. He placed it down immediately
in front of her.

"Now, Sandy." he said. "I'm going to ask you to watch the spinning propellor and
concentrate on relaxing and nothing else while you listen to the sound of my voice. Any other
sounds you may hear you can just let go and ignore, just like you would in flight. If you find
your thoughts wandering, just bring them gently back to the centre of the propellor and back
to relaxing all over while you listen to the sound of my voice. It may seem at times like you
feel like you're drifting off, but that's okay. That's when you'll know you're really
succeeding in the assessment. The aim of this mission is to see how much you can relax and
concentrate on nothing but relaxing while you listen to the sound of my voice as I speak to
you and guide you with my instructions."

Sandy was hanging on every word he said. Her heart thumped with adrenalin as she
listened. The darkness didn't bother her in the slightest. This was obviously the way they did
these kind of tests. Besides, everything John had said made complete sense so far.

John pressed the switch beneath the model aircraft's belly. The propellor began
spinning at the pre-set rate instantly, and the brightly-glowing spiral spun endlessly toward
the centre, yet never actually reaching it. He looked at Sandy, rather than the propellor. He
knew how powerful an effect it could have and didn't want to get caught up in it himself.

"Just watch the propellor ... and ... relax into the spiral" he softly guided her. "Your
mind ...should be feeling ... the relaxing effect ... already becoming calm and peaceful ... Just
allow yourself to ... go with it completely and ... let go ... Don't try to make anything happen
... and ... don't try to stop anything from happening ... Just allow everything to happen ...
naturally ... just as ... it wants to ... and ... let yourself go ... completely relaxed ...and calm ...
and peacefully ... letting go of ... every thought ... in your mind ... except how good it feels to
... relax ... and ... let go ... so completely."

John watched closely in the semi-darkness as Sandy's eyes blinked more and more
slowly until finally they closed gently down and shut. Her head lolled forward a little. Her
shoulders sagged.

Sandy didn't know what was happening to her and she didn't really care. John's
soothing, slow voice sounded so relaxing. He really was helping her to relax. Which meant
he was actually helping her with the assessment. She wondered if he was this helpful with
everyone on their first assessment.

"Relax deeply ... into whatever you're feeling ... right now...and go deeper ... even
more." John guided her. "Just allow the propellor to ... do its work and ... help you to relax."

The glowing spiral was pulling her into the centre and there didn't seem to be a thing
she could do about it, nor did she want to. She felt too relaxed to even try not to let it happen.
All she could hear was the soft, soothing sound of John's voice, and that was making her
more and more relaxed by the passing second.

"When your eyes ... become so tired," John continued soothingly. "and ... so heavy ...
you just ... can't keep them open ... even if you wanted to ... allow them to close ... all by
themselves ... that's okay ... Allow them to close ... whenever they want to and ... relax ... ten
times as deeply as .. you are relaxed... right now."

Sandy lost all sense of where she was and she didn't care. Her mind began to float as
if drifting on a cloud. Even John's voice began to fade in and out as she drifted. When her
eyes closed all by themselves she seemed to relax ten times as deeply as she had been
already, although she could still imagine the spinning spiral in her imagination. It was so
compelling to look at. So soft. Pulling her in. Making her sleepy and drowsy. Drifting and
floating on a cloud that was so soft and so comfortable, wrapping its fluffy arms gently
around her.

Time for a little test, John decided after waiting for several minutes for Sandy to
firmly entrench herself in her own relaxation, knowing that in doing that alone, she would
unknowingly take herself even more deeply down into her trance.

"I know ... you're feeling ... very wonderful and ... very, very relaxed and ... calm and
warm ... and safe, Sandy," he began. "And... you can hear me ... perfectly ... and ... you can
speak to me clearly ... when I ask you to. That is true. Isn't it?"

Sandy slowly nodded her head. She felt too relaxed to even get her throat to wet up
enough to even work. In fact, even nodding her head seemed to take a lot of effort. And
John's voice sounded so far away. She would have to listen very carefully or she'd miss what
he said, she decided, as she floated around on a fluffy white cloud.

"Tell me what you're experiencing right now, Sandy." he asked her.

It took almost thirty seconds before she answered him. He watched her swallow
several times so she could speak. When she did it was slow and dreamy as if she was half
asleep, or talking in her sleep.

"Fluffy .. white .. cloud." she mumbled. "Wrapped around me ... all warm...and

John smiled. Now he had what he needed to take her really deeply.

"Yes, Sandy." he told her. "And that fluffy white cloud is ... wrapped around you ...
just like your mother's arms ... used to be .. making you ... feel so safe and ... so warm and ...
listening only to the ... sound of my soothing... just like your mother's..and ... you
always listened to ... your mother's voice in ... everything she told you ... Isn't that true?"

"Yees." Sandy answered, slowly nodding her head at the same time.

"And you ... always did ... whatever she told you ... all the time ... because you ...
always wanted her to ... make you feel so warm and ... so safe and ... so relaxed ... just like
you do now so ... you always wanted to do willingly ... always ... everything she told you ...
no matter what it was ... without question and ... without doubt and ... without thinking about
it even ... because ... everything she told you ... must have been for your own good so it ...
must have been right ... and correct ... and natural ... perfectly natural ... That's why you
always did ... exactly as you were told ... whenever you ... felt like you do now ... so warm
and safe ... or she would ... take this feeling away from you if you didn't ... do exactly what
you were told ... which is why ... you will always do ... exactly what you're told ... whatever it
is ... without even thinking about it as anything but ... perfectly natural ... even when you're
doing it ... without thinking and ... without question ... Isn't that true?"

Everything he said made perfect sense, Sandy thought, as her consciousness drifted
around on the soft, white fluffy cloud. And no, she didn't want this feeling to go away. Her
mother really did make her feel like this whenever she was cuddled by her. It always felt very
comfortable and natural to do whatever she was told. She could remember.

"That's fine, Sandy." John told her soothingly. "You're doing perfectly. "And in the
future ... whenever you want to feel like you feel right now ... all you have to do is to ... listen
to my voice only ... say the words of your secret trance key ...'sleep time' ... and your
conscious mind will ... surrender instantly ... immediately ... and completely to your
unconscious mind and ... bring you back to feeling ... exactly the way you feel right now ... so
warm ... and soft ... and cuddled ... and safe ... all wrapped up warmly in your ... fluffy white
cloud and ... your mother's loving and protective warm arms ... Whenever you ... hear my
voice only ... say the special words of your secret trance key ... 'sleep time'... you will go
instantly ... and immediately ... to sleep and ... really enjoy every ... beautiful ... and
wonderful feeling ... and sensation that ... you're feeling right now ... And you would like to
... feel that way ... whenever I say your trance key ... 'sleep time' ... isn't that true?"

What a great idea, Sandy thought. My own special, secret trance key I can use to feel
like this whenever he says it. Now why didn't I ever think of something like that? She felt on
top of the world. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so wonderful within

"Yes." she answered agreeably, nodding her head at the same time.

"And when you hear me ... snap my fingers," John began to close. "you can leave
your fluffy white cloud for a little while ... forgetting everything I've said .. knowing you can
... always go back to it ... forgetting everything I've said ... when you ... hear your trance key
with the ... sound of my voice only. When I snap my fingers ... you will feel awake and alert
... and absolutely terrific in every way ... and will always do exactly what you're told ... so
you can come back here ... whenever I say your trance key and ... do exactly as you're told ...
without question ... and without doubt and ... without even thinking anything ... except that
everything is perfectly natural ... and correct .. in every way ... and really enjoy everything ...
you're feeling right now. Are you happy? ... to completely agree ... with that suggestion?"

"Yes." Sandy replied. She didn't really want to leave her fluffy white cloud, but she
could always come back, just like John said. Whenever she heard her special secret trance
key. Sandy marvelled at what a great idea that was. A trance key. Amazingly simple and

John stood up, snapped his fingers, then walked to the door and turned on the
overhead light. Then he walked to the table and pressed the switch on the model aircraft. It
had done its work successfully, again. He watched Sandy blink several times. Then she began
to rub her eyes as she stifled a yawn, and then grinned at him in embarrassment.

"Oh..I'm..I'm sorry!" she apologised.

John smiled. "That's okay." he said as he sat down opposite her.

"What happened?" Sandy asked. "Did I go to sleep? I had the most wonderful dream
if I did. I was all wrapped up in a cloud with my mother's arms around me. Ooohhh. It was
beautifully relaxing."

"You passed the assessment easily." John told her grinning widely.

Sandy's heart thumped excitedly. She couldn't actually remember what she'd done to
pass it, but who cared. She'd passed, and that was all she wanted to hear from him. Sandy
was as happy as she'd ever felt. She felt healthy and happy and her mind felt like it had a
shroud lifted up from it. Her thoughts were crystal clear. She looked directly into John's eyes
and smiled warmly.

"I feel really terrific!" she said. "When do we start training? I want to start as soon as

"Sleep time." John said as he looked directly into her wide-open and excited eyes.

"Huh?" Sandy replied instantly, caught off-guard by his strange comment. "Sleep
what?" She must have miss-heard him. Then suddenly, a wave of the most beautiful
relaxation, stronger than she had ever felt before, even on her most exhausting day began to
wash over her mind and body like a curtain coming down after a show on stage-a large, soft,
warm and safe curtain that she could wrap herself up in. And then she did. It was just too
irresistible to resist. Her eyes grew heavier and heavier as she began to lose herself in the
depths of John's warm and soft, relaxing gaze.

"Sleep time." Sandy heard John say that same strange word again. Yet it sounded
familiar, almost as if it belonged to her, and only to her. She felt her eyelids close all by
themselves and didn't want to fight the wonderful feeling of such deep, warm comfort, let
alone resist it in any way whatsoever. So she simply surrendered to the feeling completely
and let herself go.

John watched and smiled inside and out as Sandy's trance key did the job perfectly
that it had been designed to do. It always did, and, he knew from experience, lots of it, that it
always would. So, Sandy wanted to start her training right away? Well, he thought with a
smile. He would be happy to grant her wish.

"Sandy?" he said softly. "Can you hear me clearly?"

"Yes." she answered dreamily.

"Stand up quickly now and take off all your clothes, dear." John said in a motherly
tone. "John wants to start your special training now, and I want you to as well, just like
you've always wanted to, and now you can, so you can be the best and happiest student pilot
in the world, and I can be very proud of you. And Sandy, I want you to be a good little girl
and do everything he tells you, because we both know it's all for your own good. You and I
both know John knows exactly what you need to be happy. Listen and follow his instructions
and suggestions to the letter-without question and without even thinking about them. You
know now that they are all perfectly correct and natural, as you and I both know. And Sandy,
I really want you to put all of your heart and soul into enjoying everything he tells you to do
with him. Is that alright with you."

"Yes, mother." Sandy replied with a dreamy smile in her voice and on her face as she
stood up and began quickly unbuttoning her blouse. "It's perfectly alright with me."

John settled back in his seat, picking up the model spitfire and began to flick its
propellor as he watched Sandy finish her disrobing for him until she stood before him in all
her naked glory, eyes closed and smiling beautifully. Then he smiled a familiar smile,
knowing Sandy would receive from her pilot training, everything her little heart and body
desired ... including her pilot licence.

End of Story

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