The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Deuce sat at his favorite table at the campus coffee shop he frequented…well, frequented over the past few months anyway. He wore the same black trench coat as always, and was scribbling away on his yellow legal pad as always. Sitting back, he brushed his scraggly, oily black hair out of his face, which always seemed to fall into his line of site. ‘Always…’ he thought to himself. ‘It’s always the same.’

Taking a break from writing, he contemplated his appearance, scratching at the itchy whiskers covering his cheeks and neck. The black trench coat was just his latest affectation. For years it was a silk orchid he wore in his kimono, then that red sash across his toga. Years later it was a monocle (‘What was I thinking when I thought THAT one up?!’…then the zoot suit. Then it was that silly cravat. Usually he liked to dress UP, but a string of failures had taken their toll and his dress mirrored his lack of optimism: thus, the trench coat and legal pad.

“Going native…” he mused. Still, it allowed him to blend in nicely. The advent of the modern college was the perfect breeding ground for his research. Never before in history was there ever a greater convergence of raw mental and sexual energy than the modern residential campus.

He looked down at what he’d just finished writing, smiling at wittiness of his moniker…

“From the journal of Deuce X. Machinaw, Hand of God Inc., Research Division

“Some of us have theorized that for reasons beyond our limited comprehension, there are points in time and space where seemingly insignificant events converge, resulting in enormous, and often devastating occurrences. It is the global convergences that most are aware of, that make the news at least. But these also often happen on a much smaller scale and are of no less significance…at least to those caught in their wake. Forgive my mixing of water metaphors, but like a pebble thrown into a pond, the ripples of small occurrences spread. When enough pebbles cause enough ripples, the resultant waves could capsize the largest ships. (As one of their quirkier sayings goes: A butterfly flapping its wings in China causes a hurricane in the Atlantic, blah, blah, blah. Really, their understanding of the universe is quite quaint at times.)

“Ah, but I wax poetic. I’ve often wondered if I have enough of a detached personality to adequately do my job. I can’t but help connect with our subjects, much as they themselves would often connect with stray puppy dogs. It is not their fault, nor is it mine. We are what we are, after all. It nevertheless pains me when one stumbles. Much like the coach who distracts the referee to give his team the edge, I’ve been finding myself freer with the rules of this game this particular time around. Perhaps it is because it is a game that never should have begun. Like a top that has already been spun, we are all just waiting to see where it lands. (But when no one’s looking, I’ve been tapping it with my finger…)

“Dr. Gregg Walters: a fascinating case. It is due to our own carelessness that he called forth the ‘gift’ (which he amusingly calls it). Really, we should have been more careful about what we leave lying around. Whether gift or curse remains to be seen…but that is (and always has been) entirely up to him. And his young student, David…poor David. He has not the capacity to understand the ramifications of the power he holds. Where it seems to have given Dr. Walters the strength to accept his own humanity, it has caused a nearly opposite effect in young David. While Dr. Walters has built human connections, David has torn them asunder in his pursuit of pleasure. And yet in terms of raw power, he has far surpassed the good Doctor. Is it better to be accurate with only a dagger or be near-sighted but with a machine gun? If the proper protocols had been followed, neither would have even been considered eligible candidates for study. And yet, here they are. ‘Ad-hoc research’ as they are fond of calling it. And it is because the decks were stacked against them that I feel no compunction against cheating every once in a while.

“But I digress. I have grown very fond of Dr. Walters and his ‘family’ as he’s come to think of them. He refuses the powers he has, often letting others call the shots. In his world, he’d be a God… at least within the limited scope we’ve allowed him…and yet he defers. In many ways he is still a child…a child more interested in the box his toy came in than the actual toy itself…a child about to learn some painful lessons. But I wonder, does the beauty of this ‘gift’ demand a childlike innocence? Does the disintegration of the purity of relationships – black and white when young, muddied grey when adults – in fact corrupt any good that comes from these experiments?

“And as I observe him, I wonder if the parameters of all our research have been flawed. We always looked for the strong personalities, the leaders, those with the desire to control, those who see themselves as leaders – decisive. It is too bad the case of Dr. Walters was flawed from the beginning…for the results hint that maybe we need to reevaluate our methodology.

So, let me continue my report. Dr. Walters and his ‘family’ were having a very good week. His desire to solve the mysteries of his power were bearing fruit and he was well on his way to saving the dig…as if the answers he were seeking could be found in a fistful of sand.

“But, like strong magnets that were held apart in greasy fingers, events were destined to finally collide. And collide they did…in a spectacular fashion.

“To paraphrase a ditty from their delightful little musical, Les Miserables: “Never kick a dog because he’s just a pup/ You better run for cover when the pup grows up.”

‘Fucking Monday mornings!’ Brittany Anderson thought to herself as she entered Dr. Walters’ seminar ten minutes late. The classroom was quiet except for the ‘scritch scratch’ of pens and pencils on paper.

“Pop quiz,” Dr. Walters said, handing her a Xeroxed copy of the exam. “Find a seat and get started. You’ve only got 10 minutes left.” Brittany was too annoyed to even flirt with the professor.

She looked around the lecture hall, but Laura and Natalie were already flanked on either side as well as in front and in back by other students…and Laura didn’t even seem to be copying from her pledge sister. The popularity of the class was astounding. Sure Dr. Walters was probably the hottest teacher on campus…but still, for fucking ‘Intro to Anthropology!?’

In the back row there was an open seat next to that creepy guy in the black trench coat who always seemed to be taking far more notes than the boring lectures warranted. In a way, he kind of reminded her of Alan Rickman from “Dogma.” There was no way she was going to sit by that social reject. There was also one seat open next to Laura’s little friend Charli. She hadn’t yet had time to ingratiate herself, but hopefully that loser was desperate enough for friends already…

Taking off her coat, she sat in the seat beside Charli and began pretending to write answers. From the corner of her mouth she whispered, “Let me copy.”

Charli at first pretended not to hear. When Brittany kicked her foot and asked again, Charli turned slightly in her chair away from her. When Brittany asked yet again, even craning her neck to look over Charli’s shoulder, Chad cleared his voice and asked a little too loudly, “Miss Anderson, is there a problem?”

Brittany blushed – not out of embarrassment, but in anger. ‘The fucking nerve of that asshole! And the little shit is a year younger than me!’ “No Chad, sorry. Just…um…asking to borrow a pencil.” Charli was nice enough to play along and pull an extra pencil out from her bag. ‘Shit. Guess I’ll have to settle this the hard way…and I’ll bet Dr. Walters will be easy to get hard. Now as for this little cunt…’

“I’m really sorry Brittany. It’s not you…I just couldn’t let someone cheat.” Charli, Laura, Natalie, and Brittany were all standing in the hallway outside the lecture hall.

“Oh, it’s okay. I understand.” Brittany’s tone was so sweet it was almost saccharine. “No hard feelings. I have to admit, not many would have the guts to say ‘no’ to me. You’ve got spine. I like that…and you did cover for me in the end” Laura looked doubtfully at Brittany.

“So, we’re okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay. Just a stupid little pop quiz anyway. Listen, we’re having a party tomorrow night at the house. Live music and everything. Why don’t you join us? It’ll be a lot of fun. See you around nine? Kisses!” She kissed her fingers and waved bye to them before anyone could react. It wasn’t so much an invitation as it was an expectation.

“Is she really okay, Laura? Something tells me she’s not used to hearing people say ‘no.’”

Laura regarded the situation and chose her response carefully given that Natalie was still with her. “No, she’s doesn’t often hear ‘no’ to her face. But, this quiz really doesn’t amount to much in the class point total. Besides, it’s an outdoor party, what harm could she do?”

“So we’re still on for coffee tomorrow afternoon?”

Natalie’s eyebrows raised, but Laura paid no attention. “Yeah…but this time I get to pick the coffee place. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you chose the Athenian on purpose!” Charli laughed, only after Laura winked. The fact was that Chari DID pick the Athenian BECAUSE they had such terrible coffee. That Laura sat through their first ‘coffee date’ and actually choked down a cup confirmed in Charli’s mind that Laura’s pursuit of friendship was sincere…especially after their less-than friendly first meeting.

Natalie just frowned at her mentor’s budding friendship with this loser. ‘Laura is getting too chummy with this nerd. Maybe…’ An idea began to form in her head how she could ruin Laura before the end of the semester.

“So what did you think of my first quiz?”

“Wasn’t too bad, Gregg. All the answers were in the class notes you provided. Heck, even if you never read the textbook, it still should have been an easy ‘A.’” Gregg smiled at Charli. She just seemed so full of life, a pleasant switch from the recluse she used to be. Chad hovered nearby, looking like he wanted to touch her – hold hands or something – but carefully avoiding any public displays of affection given her student status and his assistant status.

Gregg flipped through some of the turned-in tests and frowned at the number of wrong answers he was already seeing. “So, what’s on your agenda today?”

“Well, I’m meeting Heather at the clinic in a half-hour.” She blushed instinctively…as did Chad. Heather promised to take Charli to the clinic to get her a prescription for the pill. The idea of Chad…or anybody else…actually shooting their cum into her still weirded her out, but excited her at the same time.

Gregg caught the mood between the two…as if they hadn’t been all over each other all weekend as it was. The morning after their first time, Charli had healed enough that they could begin having sex in earnest. Lucky (poor?) Chad had unleashed a sexually repressed monster who was so new and so excited by every aspect of lovemaking, that for the rest of the weekend they only left Heather’s bed for food. She still had plenty to learn, but Chad was plenty patient. Heather and Emily even joked on the rare occasions when they emerged from the bedroom that they were available for tutoring…

“You two know, I think there may be some work that needs to be done down in the archives. Could you two look for those missing files?” There were no missing files…but they understood his suggestion. In a flash they were off, running toward the building’s basement. No one ever went down there, and Chad had a key, so why not? They had a little time to spare.

It was 5:00am on Wednesday when Heather’s phone rang. She answered it sleepily and then a few seconds later she handed it to Gregg. “It’s for you.”

“Dr. Walters?”

“Yeah…Speaking,” he yawned.

“I’m sorry for waking you. My name is Chen Du. Charli’s roommate?” She sounded worried.

“Uh, yeah. What…what’s the matter?”

“It’s Charli. Could you come over…please?”

In just ten minutes Gregg was dressed and outside Charli’s dorm, his backpack of course materials for the day slung over his shoulder. Chen came down the stairs and let him in. “I’ve never seen her like this. She’s been crying all night…making herself sick. She won’t tell me what’s wrong. I thought maybe she broke up with her boyfriend or something, so I didn’t call him. Yours was the only other number I could find.”

Chen led him into the dark dorm room. Indeed, Charli was lying face down on her bed in the old t-shirt and gym shorts she slept in. She was still shuddering. Beside the bed was her wastebasket, and indeed she had been getting sick. Moving it gingerly out of the way, Gregg sat on the edge of the bed and gently rubbed her back. “Chen, I don’t mean to kick you out of your room but…”

“I understand. I’ll be in the lounge…just let me know if I can do anything.”

Gregg tried to probe into Charli’s mind, but he couldn’t get through. It was as if Charli didn’t want to remember and it was interfering with his ability to read her.

“Charli. It’s me. Gregg. What’s wrong honey? What happened?

Charli settled a little bit and finally managed to pull her red, tear-smeared face out of her pillow. Seeing that it was Gregg, she could only utter, “Oh God!” and burst into a fresh bout of hysterical tears, clinging desperately to his neck.

There was nothing Gregg could do but hold her and rock her like a newborn babe. After a long while, there was a noticeable lessening in her crying, so Gregg tried again. “Charli? Please, tell me what happened. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Finally through sniffs and stutters, Charli started to relate the events of the previous night. There wasn’t much discernable in what she managed to choke out, but by starting to relate the story, it had opened her mind. Usually when he read others’ minds, it appeared in staggered flashes, jumping back and forth in time. But not this time. It was so traumatic that it unfolded just as she remembered it…

Coffee that afternoon with Laura was surprisingly pleasant. Laura needled her a bit about ‘glowing’ and ‘who was the lucky guy?’…but Charli wouldn’t tell. Still, she had a good time. She was even looking forward to the party…her first party among the ‘beautiful people’…and she was invited by their president!

With Heather’s help, Charli went to the Gap and found some suitable party clothes. Nothing over-the-top, just something to help her fit in. Capris, a blouse, some sandals. It was the middle of September, but still warm enough for the light clothing.

Unfortunately Chad couldn’t make it. He had practice that evening…it sounded more like an excuse for not wanting to be there, but she was so excited she let it slide. Besides, one night without him wouldn’t kill her. She hoped that one day he’d tell her what his beef was with the Omega Xis. Sure, everyone hated them to some degree, but Chad’s animosity toward them seemed personal.

She arrived at the party and was greeted by Brittany and her retinue like an honored guest. A beer was immediately thrust into her hand and she and the girls drank and partied. Laura joined them for a little while, but seeing that Charli was having a good time, went to check on some of the other guests.

Charli didn’t drink much, but swallowed more than a few jello-shots. That they didn’t taste like liquor didn’t help…nor did Brittany and her friends’ shouted encouragement. The fact is, the more shots she took, the easier the next ones became. Charli never had people cheer her on, and their adulations were addictive. In her mind, as the party progressed, her awkward dancing to the painfully mellow music was improving and she loosened up. Charli couldn’t be happier. As the “gelatin-courage” worked its magic, she was prettier, funnier, and more popular than she’d ever been before…and Brittany seemed all too eager to keep her well supplied.

Two hours or so after arriving, Charli staggered a bit toward toward corner of the yard. “Brittany, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Aww, looks like you had a too much to drink!” As if that were some spoken cue, a small crowd of people started gathering around them. Sure enough, a few moments later, a bright red stream of jell-o hued vomit spewed forth from Charli’s mouth into a puddle on the lawn with the remnants of her cafeteria dinner. The cheer that went up around her was almost deafening.

Suddenly Charli felt a sharp kick behind her knees and she fell to the ground, nearly in her own puddle of puke. She held up one hand toward Brittany for a little help, but with a sneer Brittany kicked her other arm out to the side sending Charli’s face directly into that disgusting puddle.

Laughter erupted all around her. Large hands gripped her arms and pulled her up to her knees, the smell of her vomit on her face threatening to call forth another load. All around her the crowd of people seemed to twist and turn and the ground beneath her knees felt like it was spinning. Dizzily she wondered what was happening and where Brittany was. When a hand painfully grabbed the top of her head and pulled it backward, she knew.

“So, you little puke-faced bitch. How empowered are you feeling now?! Just who the fuck do you think you are saying ‘no’ to me! I—”

There was a commotion from outside the circle. Charli recognized Brittany’s friend Natalie whispering something into her ear. Brittany seemed to consider it for a moment before pointing to two burly guys toward her left. They seemed to understand her silent order and left. Whatever the commotion was, it died away to Brittany’s satisfaction. Natalie wore a very smug expression.

“Now, where was I? Oh yeah…the little fuck who thinks she’s better than me.”

“No…I…I—”

SLAP Charli saw stars after Brittany shut her up. She held out her hand and someone put a sealed jar in it. Grabbing Charli’s hair again to tilt her gaze back up, “Do you know what this is? Something I’ve been saving for one of our pledges who got out of line. But you’ll do. This is a jar of pickle relish…that’s been sitting open on our rooftop in the sun for the past two weeks.” She let go of Charli’s hair and opened the lid, holding it at arms length. The smell was almost overpowering. A repeated chant started to come from the crowd and with a cheer, the jar’s contents were upended over Charli’s head.

In Charli’s foggy mind, the horror unfolding was like something out of Stephen King’s “Carrie,” except it wasn’t pig’s blood…and she had no magical powers to save her. Initially she cried, but foul liquid would drip into her open mouth, so she wisely did her best to keep her lips tightly sealed. Unable to break free from whoever held her arms, she had no choice but to endure.

Jar after jar were similarly demonstrated and dumped – each another degree more disgusting than the last. The crowd never seemed to tire of the game, even as the putrid and rotting food piled up on her head, fell into her clothing, and stung her eyes. She gagged often on the smell, but somehow managed to keep the last remains of her dinner down. Charli went numb to what was happening to her. There was nothing she could do until the nightmare ended.

The final insult was a bucket of old fire-pit ash, making her look like a ghost. Brittany grabbed her whitened face roughly in her hand. “Look at you. Pathetic. Now, think about what you’ve done. It’s a shame really. Because of your stupid pride, I’m going to have to ruin a promising young professor’s career. If I were you, I’d stay away from that class. Stay away from me. In fact, why don’t you just crawl back into the hole you came from and die!” With that final threat, Brittany spit in Charli’s face and let her go. Charli fell to her side, her arm reaching out to catch her, to only then slip in the remains of her humiliation, sending her splashing again into the putrid mixture.

The crowd around her dispersed and slowly Charli got her balance and stood and walked away, Brittany’s final “gift” slowly oozing down her face in mockery of the tears she couldn’t call forth. There were no helping hands to speed her on her way. It was as if when Brittany left, the crowd’s interest in her disappeared also. She was every bit the ghost she resembled.

The distance to her dorm never seemed so long. People passed her and stared, some pointing and laughing, some holding their noses, some shaking their heads sadly. Up the stairs she went and straight into the shower. For long minutes she simply stood under the water, letting the hot stream wash away the putrid remains of the night, the chunkier bits threatening to clog the drain. Numbly she shuffled back to her room, not even caring that she was dripping wet and naked…there was no one to see anyway. Her clothes were tossed into the hallway garbage can and she crawled into what served as her PJs. Hours later, as the alcohol began to wear off, reality set in and the tears started coming…

A murderous rage grew inside Gregg like he’d never experience before in his life. He held Charli that much tighter, wishing he could take away the pain, but it was so stuck in her mind, so imbedded into her psyche, that any effort he tried to erase it resulted in a blinding pain behind his eyes.

Gregg stifled his wrath – balling his fist and striking the concrete wall beside Charli’s bed. In his power-wrought anger, he felt no pain. Days later, Chen would casually look toward the wall and wonder how she’d never noticed it was cracked.

Worse than anything, Gregg felt that he had personally let Charli down. He had worn the mantle of ‘hero’ in her mind, but he failed to be there for her when she needed him the most. He had given her confidence and poise, and this is how she was rewarded…just for trying to make new friends. He’d known cruelty, but not on this scale.

As he held the weeping girl in his arms, a plan began to form.

If Gregg felt like shit when he learned what happened to Charli, then the look of anger and betrayal on Chad’s face as he explained events outside Charli’s dorm cut that much deeper. Chad’s friendship and loyalty were strong enough that he wouldn’t come out and say “I told you so,” but his dark look and silence were harsher than the deepest of wounds.

“She’s finally asleep now…but I’m sure she’d like it if you were there when she woke.” Chad just nodded, and moved to enter her room, but Gregg stopped him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Chad looked at the hand as if he were debating ripping it off. “Don’t worry about coming to class today. Just be there for her, okay?” Chad turned the knob, but Gregg tightened his grip on his shoulder. “Chad…I’m sorry. I just never…I…sigh you were right…about everything. I’m sorry.”

Chad refused to meet his eyes, but simply nodded again, shrugging his shoulder free of Gregg’s grasp, opening the door and slipping in before Gregg could stop him yet again. It was clear that if Charli weren’t sleeping on the other side, the door would have been slammed in his face.

Gregg checked his watch and saw that he had just enough time to get to class. Luckily he had all his materials with him. He sighed again. ‘This day just can’t get any worse…’

An hour later, Gregg was walking across the quad back toward his office, marveling darkly at his ability to keep a straight face during class. It was easy for his students to accept his anger and frustration – they simply assumed it was because so many of them had bombed the quiz. On Brittany’s exam, which she failed of course, he scrawled a note that said, “Come to my 1:00pm office hour to discuss this.”

Obviously Charli and Chad were not there, but he was surprised that Laura didn’t shown up either. ‘When I get to my office I’ll call her. My little slave will learn what REAL punishment is. I should have known better than to think that a few spankings would turn her into anything other than what she really was deep down: an Omega Xi.’

He wouldn’t have to wait so long. Exiting the stairwell near his office, Gregg saw Laura sitting against his door. If it were ever possible to say an Omega Xi looked like shit, then Laura was the poster child. It looked like she was wearing whatever she slept in last night. She had no makeup on, her hair was disheveled, and she’d obviously been crying. ‘No doubt feels guilty for upsetting her Master,’ Gregg thought grimly.

She stood as Gregg approached, looking more fearful than he’d ever seen her before. Gregg wordlessly opened his office door and ushered her in, following close behind.

When the door slammed shut, Laura gasped as Gregg’s hand closed around her throat and slammed her bodily against the door. “WHERE WERE YOU? BUSY FUCKING ANOTHER CLIENT?!”

His grip tightened and he smashed her head a second time against the solid oak. Laura was seeing stars as she gasped for air. She could feel the blood in her neck try to force its way past Gregg’s grip. Her mouth opened and closed silently as she tried to beg him to stop.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU WHORE! YOU BETRAYED ME! YOU BETRAYED HER! Do you have any idea what they did to her? WHERE WERE YOU!? HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?”

As if in answer to his shouted question, Gregg’s consciousness bore into her mind. There was nothing gentle about his probe and her eyes rolled back into her skull. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw…

Charli arrived at the party and met up with Brittany and the gang. Laura was amazed at what she saw. Honestly, with just a little bit of work, Charli could pass as one of them.

For the most part, everything seemed to be going well. Her new young friend seemed to be only taking sips of the drink in her hand, so there wasn’t much concern about her getting drunk. Being that the party was outside and that there were plenty of people all around, Laura felt she had some time to make her rounds. As secretary for the chapter, a party was ‘work’ and she had people to meet and greet.

Walking toward the house, she said ‘hello’ to various important (and some not-so-important) people. Heading inside toward the private party, she checked to see how things were going. In the hallways, sisters were getting personal with various guys, some being quite brazen about what they were doing. Laura made a mental note of which sisters to talk to about maintaining decorum in public spaces. She approached the salon and the sister who was serving as guard for the night let her in. At least behind these doors, it was no longer “public.”

Here’s where the VERY important guests got really enjoy the company of the sisterhood. The party was still early, so there were only three girls working the room. Two were in either corner getting fucked and a third was kneeling in the middle of the room, alternately sucking the two men standing to either side of her. Laura looked closer and recognized them as the presidents of the local Sigma Chi and Delta chapters. It was a rare occurrence of inter-fraternity cooperation. Laura made sure to give special greetings to the men, all of them looking her over, hoping she’d grace them next with her charms. Laura’s standing in the sorority meant she no longer had to work “the room” like the younger girls were now…she had enough prestige that if there was a “client” worthy, she’d entertain him in her private suite.

A raucous shouting from outside caught her attention. She looked at her watch and noted that it was still too early for the band. Peeling back the curtain just enough to peek outside, what she saw caused her to bolt for the door.

There was a large crowd gathered in a circle on the front lawn. She tried desperately to fight her way through, shouting, “NO! Not her! Let me through! Brittany, let her go!” She could barely hear her own shouts over the roaring and laughing crowd. She saw Natalie whisper something in Brittany’s ear and a moment later, two large guys grabbed her arms and practically carried her kicking and screaming back into the house.

“Where should we take her?”

“Don’t know. STOP STRUGGLING BITCH! Was told just not the parlor…How’s about…ow!...the kitchen?”

They dragged Laura up the stairs. She was in good physical condition, but the two brutes carrying her were solid like tree trunks. They opened the kitchen door and threw her in, following closely behind, locking the door. Laura regained her balance and swung her arm in a desperate open-handed slap against one of their faces. Her fingernail hooked some skin and left a nice open cut across his cheek.

His return back-handed slap made her see stars and she careened into the cutting-board island in the center of the room. She held onto the table as the room spun around her, not realizing her short skirt had ridden up exposing her naked asscheek.

“Well, she did say to keep her out of trouble, didn’t she?”

The two guys looking knowingly at each other. “You hold her arms, I got her first.” The guy with the scar walked around the table and held her arms so she was stretched across the table, her feet barely touching the floor. Behind her, she felt her skirt pulled the rest of the way up. Her cell phone was ripped out of her garter and smashed against the wall. “Ha! No underwear! You were probably just waiting for some guys like us, huh slut?” She heard a zipping sound and felt his hands press her tightly against the table.

Her attacker’s dick forced its way dry into her immobilized body, and she could hear the roaring crowd outside the small kitchen window. The two brutes took turns keeping her ‘entertained.’

And as the tears streamed down her face, all she could think of was getting to Charli, her legs flailing uselessly, her hands turning purple in her attacker’s grip. But she couldn’t break free.

When the crowd outside stopped chanting, Laura finally stopped struggling.

…Gregg released Laura’s throat and she gasped for air, her hands going to her neck as her face’s crimson color began to return to normal. Looking at his own hands in horror, he backed away, tripping over the corner of his desk and crashing to the ground.

“They…they raped you…” Gregg shook at the horror of what he’d just watched. The horror of his own reaction bringing him near the point of vomit. His shaking hands tried to cover his face, as if that would make the shock of what he’d witnessed in her mind and in his own reaction disappear.

Laura just looked at him, her own horror becoming evident on her face. But it wasn’t horror at his actions… “How did you know? Nobody kn—…I…” She took a step toward him, fear and amazement in her eyes.

Gregg scooted backward until he bumped against his bookcase, one of the loose volumes crashing down on his head. He barely felt it. “Don’t! D…Don’t come near me…I’m a monster! How could I…after what you…I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry.”

Laura immediately knelt by his side. He tried to back further away, but there was nowhere to go. She held his arm, and he tried to jerk it away, but she held fast. “Master, it’s okay. It’s not your fault!”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT! THIS ISN’T SOME GAME! I’m not your Master.”

“Please Master, don’t say that!” Tears were again openly pouring down her face. “It’s all I have left. You…you are all I have left. Please don’t abandon me.”

Laura’s words cut him to the quick. He was filled with self-loathing that he’d abandoned Charli in her moment of need, and here was someone else, begging him not to repeat his failure. Still, given all that happened in a single evening, what right did he have to be anyone’s support? It would be as wise to build a ladder from wet paper! “I can’t…I can’t. I almost killed you…I WOULD have killed you…I could feel your life draining away and I wanted nothing more. I’m a monster. I would have killed you, and you were the only one who tried to help her…and look at how I reward you…”

Laura curled up next to Gregg and they held each other. Gregg wishing for nothing more than for her to stand and kick him, punish him in some way for hurting her. That she only wanted to cry in his arms was almost more punishment than he could bear.

After almost a half-hour, their tears finally stopped. Gregg whispered a final, “I’m sorry,” into her ear but Laura wouldn’t hear of it.

“No more, Master. You are not allowed to feel sorry for the choices I make any longer.” Gregg tried to interrupt, but Laura put her fingers over his lips. “I need my Master. I need the man who tamed me. Who brought me to heel. Who owned me. Where is he? Right now you’re feeling sorry for yourself, but there’s a girl out there who didn’t deserve what she got last night.” Her blue eyes darkened. “…And there’s another girl out there who deserves far worse. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve already thought of something. Let me help you…please? If you truly feel bad about what she did to me…to Charli…then let me help you get revenge.”

Gregg wanted to consume himself with guilt, but Laura wasn’t letting it happen. She took control and got him to start asking questions – questions about Brittany, questions about the sorority. Laura had no secrets from him. The bonds of trust and loyalty for her sorority were shattered. Her sisters were supposed to look out for their own…No, she felt neither love nor loyalty for any of them.

Slowly a plan began to unfold.

“Laura, I know you won’t let me apologize any more…but how can I at least say ‘thank you?’”

“If your plan works, that will be more than enough Master.”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I’ve proven myself unworthy to treat you like that anymore. You have far more courage and strength than me.”

“I don’t know how you know what happened to me last night...” Gregg looked up worriedly. “And I don’t WANT to know. Some things are better left unsaid.” She smiled. Gregg could see that what she was saying was true. She had said her peace, she was done. All she wanted was Gregg…her Master.

Laura stood and looked over his collection of thick academic tomes. Pulling down the biggest, heaviest one she could find, she hefted it in her arms, slapping its hard cover. The mischievous twinkle in her eye spoke volumes. She helped Gregg stand and handed him the book. Positioning herself behind his desk with her palms flat, she said, “If you want to thank me, then remind me of why you are my Master.”

Gregg probed into her mind and saw that she was serious. She wanted this more than anything. It didn’t matter the brutal treatment she’d gotten the night before – last night she was merely a victim. A victim is used and forgotten. A slave, however, is owned and cared for. Now she just wanted to be a slave…his slave. She needed him to be the rock she could cling to. Now that she’d saved him, he needed to return to his duty and save her.

“As you wish…Slave.” Laura smiled in contentment as the first painful blow by the makeshift paddle landed.

It was nearly 11:00am, and Gregg was gathering his notes for his next class. Laura insisted on getting paddled until her ass was bright red. When he tried to stop, still not feeling right about paddling her after what she’d been through, she begged him to continue. When she felt him holding back, she begged with teary eyes for him to hit her harder. They didn’t have sex, or engage in any kind of intimate act other than holding each other for a little while before she left to go home and shower.

It was the oddest situation, one more bizarre than anything he could have dreamt up himself. The way her mind had rewired itself after becoming his slave was something he just couldn’t get his own head around. ‘Ends justify the means?’ Gregg thought as he sat back at his desk. He would never have imagined that what she needed was further punishment…but it was what she craved…what she demanded. If she didn’t seem so at peace with herself when she left, he would have been far more worried. For now, however, there were other things to attend to.

Gregg picked up the phone and dialed Chad’s mobile. It rang five times before he answered. Gregg was sure it was because Chad was debating about not answering.

“Yeah?” Chad’s voice sounded impatient.

“Listen Chad, when Charli wakes up, why don’t you take her to my apartment. There’s a bigger bed there and plenty of food. It’ll probably be more quiet and private than the dorms.”

Chad didn’t reply. All Gregg could hear was his heavy breathing into the receiver.

“Chad…I know you blame me for what happened…I blame myself. I don’t expect you to forgive me. But…you need to know the rest of the story…”

Gregg explained what happened to Laura. When he finished, there was a long silence on the other end and finally a choked, “Oh God…”

In the hour between the end of his 11:00am class and his 1pm meeting with Brittany, Gregg pondered just how he intended to take his revenge. Laura had given him lots of useful information. She was arguing for him taking Brittany just as she’d been taken…but with fewer benefits. When he’d confronted Laura all those weeks ago, it was an impulsive act…an impulsive act that had led to some startling changes. No, whatever he did to Brittany needed to take time. It needed to be subtle yet painful. And Charli deserved to be the beneficiary.

With a plan half-formed in his head, he started making calls. He asked Heather, Emily, Rivkah, and E’dan to meet him at Heather’s apartment. He debated about calling Chad, but decided that right now his place was with Charli. They all agreed to meet at Heather’s at 3pm – giving Emily time to finish her classes and hop the train over. None asked what was wrong, but all could tell it was something serious.

Ten minutes after one, there was a knock on his door. ‘Late…of course…’ Standing in the doorway was someone who before the morning’s events he would have found beyond beautiful. Her hair was light brown, but her highlights almost made it seem blonde. It was curled and gelled…and had an almost wet-look. She was short in stature, but her self confidence and self assuredness made her seem that much taller. Her lips were pursed petulantly, and she smiled as if harboring a secret or a joke that only she knew. He was reminded a little of Paris Hilton, who’s smile always seemed to say, “Sure I’m dumber than a bag of oats…but I’m rich and I’m beautiful…and that makes me better than you!”

“Have a seat Brittany, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Gregg listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, smiling at what he was hearing. “That’s excellent Regent. I guess the proposal is out of our hands now. I just hope the Tunisian government and the investors take it seriously…Thanks again for all your help. We’ll be in touch.” Gregg hung up the phone, both scared and excited that all their hard work in the last weeks of summer were now on their way. Despite his elation, it was the woman before him that had his attention. While he pretended to scribble some notes (presumably related to his phone call), he delved into her mind, finding plenty to use against her.

Brittany sat in the offered chair in the corner beside the small table. She crossed her legs in a very lady-like manner. A moment later when she caught Gregg looking, she uncrossed her legs, and re-crossed them, bringing the opposite leg on top, giving Gregg a quick flash of her panties. She watched Gregg work at his desk, her finger lightly caressing her lips, her pink tongue playing with her fingernail. When she caught Gregg looking again, she touched her upper lip with her tongue in a seemingly innocuous manner, showing him her silver tongue stud. There was nothing about her that wasn’t seductive. She had her own agenda, and as she thought through her plan, Gregg heard every detail. Usually by this point, any normal male would be under her spell. But Gregg also had HIS own agenda.

Gregg sent out a trickle of thought for her to put her Prada purse on the ground, thereby ruining her first plan. Later she’d wonder why she did that, taking the specially modified purse with the camera built into the latch out of line of site. The guy at the spyware store received an extra “bonus” for his craftsmanship. She’d used this handy little tool to blackmail more than one teacher or public official without having to actually resort to sleeping with them.

“Tell me Miss Anderson. Did you even look at the class notes I prepared? This was supposed to be an easy test…a no brainer.”

Brittany slid her chair closer to Gregg’s desk, leaning forward with her elbows on the corner, giving Gregg an unobstructed view down the front of her shirt. She twirled a finger around a lock of her hair, her eyes taking on an innocent, yet sexy gleam. “I just don’t get this stuff. Maybe I’m just not…motivated…”

Gregg’s lust fought a battle against his revulsion. How could someone so beautiful be so cold and ugly on the inside? More so than any other Omega Xi, Brittany not only used her sexual charms as a tool, they were a finely honed weapon. In a flash of inspiration, the rest of his plan took shape.

Playing along with her blatant seduction, Gregg also leaned forward on his elbows, mirroring her pose and sweetly innocent voice. “I think there are lots of ways to motivate a student…or for a student to…inspire…her teacher. Perhaps…Perhaps you just need a little extra…one-on-one guidance?” Gregg didn’t have the patience to play games and laced his comment with mental suggestions. He carefully limited the amount of control he took; he wanted her to agree with his suggestions, but not be a mindless zombie after all. There’d be no fun in his revenge if she couldn’t experience every last tidbit fully aware of what was happening.

“Why Professor, if I didn’t know it was against school policy…” Her grin was filled with the knowledge that yet another gullible academic had fallen prey to her feminine wiles.

Gregg returned her smile. They each made clear to the other what the hidden meaning was behind their mutually mischievous and flirtatious grins. But only Gregg knew he was sidestepping her trap as he deftly spun his own. He wrote out Heather’s address on the back of his business card. “Be here at 8pm tonight…and be ready for some long…hard…studying.”

Brittan was miffed at his commanding tone and was about to argue that tonight she had a chapter meeting, but for some reason, she decided that this was more important. ‘Besides, nothing important on the agenda tonight anyways.’ “Okay Professor,” she looked him up and down, “I’ll see you…all of you…tonight.” He’d learn to take a more respectful tone with her after tonight…

She sashayed out the door, her hips having a little extra sway for his benefit. Simultaneously, they both had the same departing thought. “Excellent…right into my trap.”

As the heartless vision of beauty left his office, Gregg wished he had a black cape, tall black hat, and a handlebar mustache to twirl around his finger villainously.

“I don’t know Gregg. What you’re proposing borders on being cruel and inhumane.”

Gregg studied Rivkah and her measured response. She and E’dan sat stoically as Gregg detailed what happened to Charli and Laura the night before. Heather had a tear running down her cheek, but she wore a fiercely determined mask. Emily, on the other hand, was openly crying. Different backgrounds, different ways of dealing with trauma.

“What she did to Charli and Laura was cruel and inhumane. I talked to Chad just an hour ago. Charli’s finally stopped crying, but she won’t eat and just sits there in an almost catatonic state.”

“I know, my friend. I know.” E’dan said calmly. “But trust me, when you sink to your enemy’s level, you become no better than your enemy.”

Gregg was about to make another argument for his plan, but a red-eyed Heather spoke up first. “That bitch took everything away from Charli. She was just beginning to realize who she is and how beautiful she is…and…and…” Heather paused, regaining control. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I think Gregg’s plan is exactly what’s called for. Maybe even not enough.”

E’dan refrained from pursuing his line of argument. Heather’s vehemence leading him to choose silence. There are times when being right isn’t enough. Truthfully in his heart, he agreed with her, but he was hoping someone would talk him out of it.

Next it was Emily’s turn. “I don’t like it either, honestly – but Charli deserves better.”

“Then why not let the police handle it?” Rivkah asked. “Why is it our responsibility to dole out justice?”

“Because Brittany can call in enough favors to make any legal action pointless. Laura’s case would be a he said/she said, and no doubt the house would turn against her to cover their own secrets. And what she did to Charli…well, as cruel as it was, it wasn’t illegal…technically. The worst she’d get is a slap on the wrist. Plus this is personal. That’s why I need your help. She needs to learn just what it is she did. She needs to be called to account!”

There was not much more convincing Gregg could do. In the end, everyone had to make their own decisions. Gregg had done his part by telling the story, adding the mental images he extracted from Charli and Laura, so they’d really know what happened and what it felt like. If anyone asked, they’d assume their clarity of the situation was due to his descriptive speaking style. He held back from making up their minds for them…That, he mused was the first step down a long, dark road…darker than the one he was trying to lead them on.

Heather spoke up immediately. “I’m in. Just tell me what to do, and then try to hold me back.” Her hand was knotted in a fist and Gregg was sure her nails were digging into her skin.

Emily was second. “I’m in too. But, if this gets out of hand, I’m calling the whole thing off.”

Rivkah and E’dan looked at each other. They didn’t need words, the smallest change in expression readable to their trained eyes – training as Mossad agents, but also as husband and wife. E’dan held his wife’s hand and smiled knowingly…yet sadly. “We’re in also. What do you need us to do?”

Gregg smiled – there was no turning back now. He explained some of the things he learned…crediting his “inside source.” Everyone assumed he meant Laura, but much of what he detailed came direct from Brittany’s mind.

“Tonight there’s a chapter meeting at the sorority house. They’re a secret sorority, so they’ll all be locked behind closed doors. Laura will be there. Brittany will be here for ‘tutoring.’” Gregg turned to the Israeli couple. “How rusty are your breaking and entering skills?”

Rivkah and E’dan turned to each other, smiling like two kids who’d just been asked if they wanted a house made of chocolate.

It was a half hour before Brittany was scheduled to arrive. Heather was about to head out the door to join Rivkah and E’dan upstairs for their part of the mission. Neither was able to eat much dinner that night. Thoughts of what had happened so far and what was about to unfold didn’t do much to ease digestion. Gregg pulled Heather into his arms, kissed her tenderly on the lips and rested his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of her scent. He smiled – the sweetness of her perfume was in stark contrast to the vileness in her heart.

“Heather. Are we doing the right thing? Am I a bad person for thinking like this?”

“It’s a brilliant plan, my love. She’s getting no worse than she deserves. And tonight, she’ll be getting much MORE than she deserves.” Flashes of Charli’s and Laura’s torment at Brittany’s hands cascaded through his mind and he shuddered. Heather could sense what he was thinking about and she pulled him in for a stronger hug. “When you stop having that reaction to those memories…that’s when you should start being worried.”

She pulled back, rubbing her hand against his cheek, forcing her own smile. “To know the lengths that you would go to in order to protect the ones you love…I’ve never felt safer in my life. Just know that what you do…you do with my blessing.”

Heather looked at the clock on the wall and gave Gregg one last kiss.

“Time to go to work Gregg…Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone. Okay?”

Brittany checked her makeup one last time in her compact mirror, making sure everything was perfect. Smiling wickedly, she closed her compact and tucked it inside her Prada bag, giving her little spy-camera setup a final check. ‘What the hell was I thinking, not getting this over with in his office?’ she thought angrily to herself. ‘Sure Dr. Walters is pretty delicious, but honestly, I’ve got better things I could be doing tonight than letting him get his jollies.’ The memory card in the camera could hold about a half-hour of video…more than enough time to get him into several compromising positions.

She rang the doorbell for the address he had given her, even though his name wasn’t on the door. ‘It probably wouldn’t make sense to try to squeeze him for too much money if all he could afford is this crappy little two-flat.’ Hearing someone coming, she stood a little straighter, gave her boobs a final lift, and pursed her lips in her best seductive smirk.

But it wasn’t Dr. Walters who answered the door. A thin and pretty girl wearing deep purple hospital scrubs and her dark brown hair in a ponytail stood there, looking amusedly at her visitor.

Brittany’s outfit was designed especially for seducing crusty professors – her hair was in twin pigtail braids to either side of her head. Her Catholic school-girl motif was perfectly set to inspire men to pretend they were taking advantage of some prime jail bait. Her too-tight white shirt and too-high cut skirt combined with her knee-high socks, black high heels, and all-too kissable face was too much for any mere male to resist. But, the girl standing in the doorway seemed unimpressed. It didn’t help that even in heels, Brittany was still an inch or two shorter.

“You must be Brittany. Dr. Walters has been expecting you.” Emily gave her a lingering look up and down, her smile barely masking exasperated amusement. “Follow me.”

Brittany followed Emily down the half-flight of stairs toward the apartment door. She grimaced as she prepared to again turn on the charm, her seduction rhythm already thrown for a loop. ‘No matter, Brittany,’ she thought. ‘Just adapt.’

Closing the door behind her, she watched Emily walk into the bedroom and close the door. Taking a gamble that the pretty girl wasn’t there for a three-some, Brittany set her Prada bag on the small kitchen table, pointing the latch/camera lens toward the living room. That’s where she’d make her seduction…and get it all recorded for future use.

She walked around the living room admiring the strangely feminine (and in her opinion, tacky) décor, coming full circle back to her purse. Taking out her compact again, she pretended to adjust her makeup while waiting on the professor. When she heard someone clear a throat behind her, she spun around and gasped, again having her balance thrown off. Before her was the six-foot-three, well muscled professor all the girls in her class were lusting over…completely naked. And boy, was he well put together. His long, lean physique was the stuff dreams were made of, and hanging at half-mast between his legs was a cock that was large, even for Dr. Walter’s frame. She took note that the top half of his cock glistened wetly, no doubt the result of his little nurse-playmate. Snapping her compact shut she put in back in her purse, using the opportunity to start her camera recording.

“You don’t waste time on preliminaries, do you, Dr. Walters?” She licked her lips, gearing up to jump right into business. ‘If I get this guy off quick enough, I might even make the second half of the meeting I’m missing.’

“No. Why play games when we’re both getting what we came here for? Unless I read the situation wrong? If that’s the case, you have my apologies.” Gregg started walking toward her, his cock starting to rise again in little jerks with each step. “You can leave if you want.”

“No…no. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Every girl in that class wishes she were right where I am, right now.” She reached out and glided her perfectly manicured fingernails up and down his inflating cock. Gregg smiled knowingly and turned toward the stereo, powering it up and inserting a disc. “So who’s your little friend? Another one of your students? Just so you know, if you’re looking for a little three-way action, I don’t do that.”

“Her name’s Emily, and no, she’s not one of my students. She’s got…other obligations tonight.” A heavy grinding music started coming out of the speakers. It reminded her of the music they played during the strip-aerobics classes all new sorority members were required to attend (and which most senior members continued to attend even after being raised to full member). Brittany approached the professor, pressing her body up against his, letting his mammoth member rub up against her belly. He spun her around and pressed himself against her back, engulfing her shirt and bra-clad tits in his large hands. Clearly Dr. Walters was a man who liked to think he was in control…an illusion she’d allow him to keep for the time being.

Brittany’s prediction that it would be a short night was appearing to be true. She moaned despite his rough handling of her breasts. Like so many men, he squeezed her tits and nipples almost painfully – but she kept up the charade that she was enjoying his attentions. Dr. Walters quickly undid the buttons on her shirt, throwing it onto the floor into the corner. With a flick of his fingers her bra popped open, and was left to join her shirt on the floor. Helping move things along, she popped the snaps on the side of her skirt, revealing her naked ass beneath. Red plaid joined white shirt in the heap. Soon was naked except for her stockings and heels.

Gregg reached around her and squeezed her naked breasts again. To her surprise, jolts of excitement shot through her system, causing her to close her eyes and moan in honest pleasure. Her hips swayed back and forth and up and down, capturing his now erect cock between her asscheeks and she pressed herself back against him.

With Brittany distracted, Gregg looked over his shoulder. Just as they’d planned, Emily tiptoed back into the kitchen, the loud music masking any noise she made, and opened Brittany’s purse, removing the camera. Taking it back into the bedroom, she plugged it into her Gregg’s laptop and erased what had already been shot and waited patiently for her chance to shoot some footage Brittany wasn’t expecting.

Feeling that the professor was primed and ready, she turned around and knelt before him, gently fisting the cock pointed at her face. With any luck he’d pop his cork before she had to fuck him…always such a tiresome task.

Gregg looked down at the girl looking innocently back up at him. She honestly looked like a pedophile’s wet dream…except that she was twenty-one years old. Giving the tip of his cock a kiss, she moaned unexpectedly as a surge of pleasure flooded through her. Sucking cocks was a disgusting, filthy act, but one she performed in order to avoid other even more revolting acts. Still, licking up the underside of his cock, she marveled at how good it tasted.

Brittany licked all around the crown of his cock, her tongue stud cool compared to the heat of her mouth. Gregg’s cock was incredibly hard, but it wasn’t due to Brittany’s stellar performance. So far he was actually unimpressed. Gregg was maintaining a strong mental connection with his seductress, and to him, it was merely anticipation of what he had in store that fueled his excitement. It was time to get the ball rolling…so to speak. “Come on already, Brittany! Suck it. Put it in your mouth and show me just how good you really are. All I’ve heard since I started working here was how great the Omega Xis are…but so far you’ve barely managed to keep me hard.”

The double blow to her pride and to her sorority kicked her into high gear. Pulling his cock between her lips, she sucked loudly and wetly at the tip, running her tongue in little circles. Her small mouth stretched around his girth and she gagged with only about a third of him in.

After several minutes of what was actually not-bad cocksucking (Gregg was beginning to consider himself a bit of an expert), Gregg pulled his dick out of her mouth and grasp. She looked up at him, a bit stunned. “C’mon Brittany. You can do better than that, I hope. This is no way to earn an ‘A’ in my class. Shit, your little pledge friend Natalie managed to swallow the whole thing.” Gregg didn’t tell her, of course, that she was only able to do that because he’d used his powers to cheat. Still, the idea of being bested – at anything – infuriated Brittany. She attacked Gregg’s cock with renewed gusto, still not managing to take him much deeper, but definitely pulling every trick she knew. Her cheeks hollowed and puffed. Her tight fist was a blur up and down his cock. Drool seeped out from her lips around his cock, forming a saliva bridge connecting her mouth to her chest.

When Gregg sighed with boredom loudly enough to be heard over the music, any thoughts of this being a quick shot goodbye were dashed. Regardless, she was confident that her camera had caught more than enough incriminating evidence to end this fucker’s career.

Gregg pulled free again and sat himself on the couch. He crooked his finger at her, calling her closer. Thoughts of just packing up and leaving were blocked from her mind. So, swallowing her pride at her poor cocksucking performance, she crawled as seductively as she could manage between his legs. She stood when he patted his thigh, and crawled on top of him, trapping his oversized cock between their bodies. So effective was Gregg’s control over her thought process, it didn’t even occur to her to get the condoms out of her purse.

As she rubbed up and down against his cock, Gregg watched Emily over her shoulder re-enter the room and point the camera at them. She gave him a thumbs-up sign indicating that she managed to reset the digital camera. Now the only incriminating evidence that would be filmed would be whatever she chose.

“Do you like my big cock, Brittany?”

“Mmm, yes I do Dr. Walters! I can’t wait for you to stick it in my juicy pussy!”

“Do you always fuck bareback? Don’t you use protection?”

“Mmm, bareback is best. I just love a naked cock!” Brittany was barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth…if she were actually in control, she’d be horrified!

“That’s what I love to hear, Brittany. Why don’t you slide your slutty little pussy down my pole.”

Brittany fit the spongy tip against her tight lips and settled her knees to either side of his hips. Slowly she descended, somewhat surprised at the unfamiliar feeling of a cock not covered with a condom. A part of her brain was trying to tell her this was wrong, but it was effectively silenced. Even more surprising was the degree of lubrication she was providing on her own. She always needed the lube in her purse to have anything but a dry fuck…but for some reason, her body was responding very well to the hunky professor.

Brittany settled into a comfortable fucking rhythm, bracing her arms on his shoulders. Dr. Walters squeezed and pinched her nipples roughly as they bounced in front of his face. Again, her body was sending out unfamiliar and incredibly enjoyable signals. “So, Brittany, you enjoying your ride on my cock?”

“Oh, God! Yessss!” She couldn’t believe it, but she really was.

“Tell me the truth. Have you ever had an orgasm from fucking?”

She wanted to lie, to tell him what all men wanted to hear…that she was a cock-loving slut who creamed at just the sight of one. But to her dismay, the truth came out. “Nooo. Ungh! I’ve never cum on a cock before!”

Gregg grinned as he grabbed her hips and began thrusting up to meet her on her descents. “Well, tonight we’re going to fix that for you. Would you like that? Would you like to cum all over my big cock?”

“Yessss,” she hissed, feeling the cum welling up inside her. She’d been close on a few rare occasions, but it seemed like this time she’d actually get to enjoy herself.

“Tell me. Say you want to cum. Beg me to let you cum. I won’t let you cum until you beg me.” Gregg could feel her orgasm approaching, but blocked it until he was done with his fun.

“Unngh! Fuck me, please! Let me cum!”

Brittany was bouncing rapidly up and down, so close to her release she could taste it. Her blondish hair was growing damp and stuck wetly to the side of her face as she strained and struggled for that last iota of pleasure that would send her over the top. She dropped a hand to between her legs to rub at her clit in an effort to speed her climax, but it did no good. She fought a losing battle of pride over pleasure: her mind wanted her to maintain her pride, but her cunt demanded pleasure. Unable to take any more, she cried out, “Oh God, yes! Fuck. Please! Please let me cum!”

“That’s a good girl. You only had to ask nicely. Here you go.” With that, Gregg released the block and Brittany’s pussy clamped down on his thrusting cock with incredible force. Gregg kept on thrusting as her body twisted and writhed above him, droplets of sweat hitting him in his face as her head thrashed back and forth. Her exhausted tried to collapse against him, an urgent desire to kiss him welling up inside her. Not since her eighth-grade crush on her third-period English instructor did she have such a strong desire to kiss a teacher. But his hands on her chest kept her at arms length, denying her the first moment of real intimacy she’d craved in years.

Her orgasm was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. The blissful loss of control, the endorphin-laced high. It infuriated her that her body wouldn’t let her cum until she submitted as Dr. Walters demanded, her pride refusing to accept such conditions. But she was so filled with post-orgasmic bliss, her body told her mind to shut the fuck up and let it experience this new, incredible sensation.

As her mind-fog began to clear, she became aware that Dr. Walters hadn’t slowed a bit, his giant cock still rasping quickly against her swollen clit. When her cunt began to twitch and spasm around the thrusting invader, it was clear that her body was already preparing itself for another surge.

“Ahh, ahh! Oh God! I’m cumming again!!” While not as intense as the orgasm she experienced mere moments before, her exhausted body didn’t have the strength to fight against its own convulsions. Brittany’s head flew backward and only Gregg’s quick reflexes caught her before tumbling off his lap. Her body seized up and her torso contorted uncontrollably. For a second, Emily thought Brittany would see her filming them, but Brittany’s eyes remained tightly shut, completely oblivious to the world beyond the walls of her pleasure. Gregg quickly pulled her back up and let her rest against his shoulder. To Brittany’s bliss…and horror, Gregg’s still-hard cock flexed mightily inside her, reminding her that he wasn’t done yet with her body.

Gregg held the panting and sweaty girl against his shoulder and silently motioned Emily toward the kitchen to get her into a semi-concealed position for the next round. Once she was in place, Gregg stood with the sorority president clinging to his neck, still impaled on his cock. Her tiny frame was light in his strong arms. Dropping to his knees, he laid her out on her back with her head pointed toward Emily. Once settled, Gregg again began fucking her with long, deep strokes – this time not constrained by the awkward sitting position on the couch. Her small body beneath him was completely at his less-than-tender mercies. He held her head in place with both hands as he fucked her deeply and quickly, making sure she wasn’t able to tilt her head backward and catch Emily filming them.

Soon both were covered in a sheen of sweat as Gregg labored between her thighs. She made several more attempts to kiss him, to pull his head down so she could entwine her tongue with his, but he just mechanically sawed away into her incredibly moist vagina, keeping his face out of her reach.

Brittany’s never ending high and continuous stream of orgasms were tiring her out. She became exhausted as her muscles stretched and contracted beyond her control as orgasm followed orgasm. Like a roller-coaster ride that she couldn’t get off, it began as the thrill of her life; but with each subsequent orgasm, she just hoped it would be over soon.

Gregg, on the other hand, was a fucking machine, neither seeming to tire nor seeming to approach his release. In the back of her mind, she tried to remind herself that he wasn’t wearing a condom, but when she tried to say something, it just came out, “Fuck me! Fuck me harder!” Gregg seemed amused by her reactions, always obeying her verbal commands…even if they weren’t manifestations of her actual thoughts.

Time passed, and she became barely aware of her surroundings. In a rare moment of clarity, she heard the silence that indicated the end of the CD. Gregg had been fucking her for over an hour straight. Sure, he’d put her into different positions; going from the couch, to her back on the floor, then up on her knees, then up against the wall, then on her side with him behind her. Every muscle in her body was sore from the constant orgasm-induced contractions and spasms. She was covered in sweat and thirsty beyond belief, her mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton balls, her voice hoarse from screaming in pleasure. Yet despite her thirst, her cunt remained as wet and lubricated as when she first began. She desperately wanted it to end. She was being tortured with pleasure and was fast approaching her breaking point. But whenever she tried to beg him to stop, only the words, “Fuck me!” came out.

Emily moved silently with each change in position, going wherever Gregg indicated in order to remain out of her line of sight. Twice now she’d retreated to the bedroom to download the full video card onto his laptop. Several times during Gregg’s incredible demonstration of endurance, she was forced to hold the camera with one hand while the other slipped inside her scrubs to masturbate. She looked at the clock on the wall and hoped, not only for Brittany’s sake, but also for her own that the gang returned soon. It still amazed her that despite her less-than-subtle cloak and dagger routine, Brittany never gave any indication that she was aware of Emily’s presence. Even when she accidentally cried out as she fingered herself to an orgasm, Brittany didn’t register that she’d heard her.

A little while later, Gregg had a sweat-soaked Brittany again on her back in the middle of the room with her legs being pushed backward so her knees were almost beside her ears. Still Gregg continued fucking into her, her sopping pussy making wet squishing sounds with each thrust. At seemingly random times her body would convulse in another orgasm. So disoriented was she with pleasure that she couldn’t even feel them coming, but could only cry out in both pleasure and pain when another one hit. Gregg’s body was also soaked in sweat, droplets of salty water dripping off his hair and nose onto Brittany’s chest.

To Emily’s relief, the door to the apartment opened and Heather silently crept in. Gregg also heard and turned his head, not breaking the incredible pile-driving rhythm with which he was pounding into Brittany. Brittany’s head shook back and forth, completely unaware of the goings on around her. More than once, Emily had even braved coming out of hiding to get some close up shots of her face. Brittany never noticed a thing.

Heather was dressed all in black. Her attire was actually somewhat comical, looking like a sexy movie spy. Her tight black sweater and tight black pants and high heeled boots were more appropriate for a costume drama than for sneaking into a sorority house. She held up Gregg’s “shopping list” from Brittany’s room and gave a thumbs-up sign. Her part of the mission was a success.

Gregg smiled. Turning his attention back to the sweaty shell of a girl beneath him, he kicked it into high gear, finally letting loose the blocks he kept on himself. He collapsed down on her small frame, flattening her chest with his, her legs splayed out wide toward her sides. His hips became a blur as he drove on toward his goal, making wet slapping sounds with each urgent thrust.

Heather knelt beside him, her hand resting on his sweaty and thrusting ass. Emily also came into the room, getting into position for the final shots. “Ahh! Shit! Arrrgh! I’m gonna cum!” Gregg released the mental blocks he set up at the beginning of the evening and like a bolt of lightning, Brittany realized that he was going to cum and he wasn’t wearing a condom! It went against everything she’d ever been taught and it horrified her. The thought of a man’s semen actually entering her body was disgusting. Sure she was on the pill, but that was just back-up insurance. Her mind screamed “NO!” but out of her mouth came only a barely audible, “yes.” Only Gregg could see the horror in her eyes.

Gregg stabbed repeatedly deep inside her, the tremendous load of jism that he’d been holding back for over an hour starting its journey from his balls toward freedom. He pulled almost all the way out of her and for a moment Brittany held onto the hope that he’d pull out. But with just his cock tip inside her, he ordered her pussy to clamp down tightly on him and he gave a few more micro-thrusts to finish the job and the first spurt of semen sprayed inside her, shooting all the way into her greatest depths. In that split-second, Brittany’s horror fought against the incredibly pleasant and soothing sensation of his creamy load basting the overheated walls of her cunt.

Heather watched with amazement, her gaze focused intensely on Gregg’s mostly exposed cock. With each spurt, his cock swelled in size and she could see the bottom of his shaft expand and then contract as his muscles forced another giant stream of cum into the undeserving slut beneath him. Her hand reached out, almost of its own accord, circling the shaft he was trying desperately to keep in position, fighting against his own body’s attempts to thrust back deep inside her. His hips flexed, but he kept his cock mostly in place. Heather’s body swelled with excitement as she felt through her hand another tremendous spurt of semen travel through his shaft, feeling the liquid forced through his cock.

“Her ass, Gregg. Fill up her ass!” Heather’s eyes shone with a fantastic lust. She knew from Gregg’s briefing earlier that Omega Xis were trained to use condoms, and that anal sex was viewed as dirty and beneath them. So, filling Brittany’s ass with spunk would be a double humiliation. Gregg seemed to instinctively understand and pulled out his cock, a half spurt of jism spraying Brittany across her stomach and chest. His cock was covered with her juices and her skin was drenched with sweat, so there was no difficulty in shoving the tip of his cock against her rosebud.

Every muscle in Brittany’s body was like jelly, except for her pussy which despite her exhaustion was still clamped firmly around Gregg’s shooting cock. When she felt him pull out her first thought was that her nightmare of pleasure was done. But a second later, his mammoth cock was pressed against her ass and, to her dismay, she had no strength to even try to clench shut. With incredible ease, Gregg managed to force his cock tip past her sphincter, thankfully stopping at such a shallow depth. What little relief she could summon was shattered a microsecond later when Gregg’s seemingly never ending fountain of cum began spraying inside her rectum.

Brittany’s mind screamed, “NOOOOO!” but all Emily and Heather heard was, “Yes! Fill my ass! Fill me like the slut I am!” It was almost like being controlled by a ventriloquist! Emily moved the camera back from a shot of her face saying those words she never intended, back to between their legs. There was no doubt that Gregg’s cock was still pumping. It was beyond comprehension that he could have so much jism stored inside him.

At long last, Gregg was used up. As if his release had also sapped him of his remaining reserve of strength, he felt the room begin to spin. Pulling his cock-tip out from Brittany’s ass, he staggered over to the couch, collapsing in a sweaty heap. Brittany lay on the ground panting, her eyes tightly shut, her legs still spread wide. Heather watched as thick streams of cum started dripping from her still-open snatch and ass. After making sure Emily had gotten footage of the cum and Brittany’s face, Heather decided to add her own little bit of revenge. Gregg had given her two other bits of information about Brittany’s likes and dislikes and it was time to put them to use.

Kneeling between the girl’s spread legs, Heather opened her mouth and began sucking at her battered twat and ass. Brittany placed her hands on Heather’s head, and the realization that it was not Dr. Walter’s head, but soft feminine curls sank in. She was unable to open her eyes, but she knew what she was feeling. Shaking her head ‘no,’ she was horrified to hear “yesss” again escape her lips.

Thankfully whoever the lesbian dyke bitch was, she stayed there only long enough to get a few licks in. Lesbians were just barely above dogs, in her book. Pretending to be into girls for the purposes of turning on a man was one thing, but actually enjoying it was another. But the redhead had one more play in her playbook, and Brittany had no strength to fight it.

Strong fingers tangled themselves into her hair and she was forced into a semi-sitting position. Emily, still filming, moved toward the opposite side of Brittany as Heather, but she couldn’t be seen because Heather had her head in a firm grasp slightly turned toward herself. Heather tilted Brittany’s head backward until her jaw opened. Using her free hand to open it further and keep it open, Heather positioned her own mouth about a half-foot above Brittany’s. The limp girl’s eyes opened and she could see what was about to happen, but was unable to do anything about it.

As if in slow-motion, she watched as a large gob of cum dribbled out from the redhead’s mouth directly into her own open maw. With a sickening ‘splat’ sound, the mixture of cum and saliva landed on her tongue. Following that first gob, a thin stream of semen continued its mouth-to-mouth transfer. Brittany wanted desperately to spit it out, to claw the redhead’s face, but she could only half-lay there and take it. With silent horror, she realized that not only was the dyke above her spitting cum into her mouth, but the cum had been sucked from her own pussy and ass.

At last the transfer was complete. She tried to turn her head to spit it out, but the redhead easily used her hand to close her mouth. With gentle strokes to Brittany’s throat, the thick load of cum was sent on its journey toward her stomach. She wanted to cry in disgust, to vomit up the putrid liquid, but all that escaped her mouth was a low, “Mmmm, yummy.” She closed her eyes, exhausted. The smile on her face in stark contrast to the fear and shame at her own body’s reactions.

Emily turned off the camera and handed it to Heather and moved to check on Gregg. He was slouching on the couch, sweaty and panting, but awake. “Em, get her into her clothes and drive her home.” Meanwhile, Heather was busy doing the final download from Brittany’s camera. When she emerged from the bedroom minutes later, Emily was buttoning the white blouse on a barely-standing Brittany. Neither seemed to care that the shirt stuck to her sweaty body, or that the fabric was forever ruined by being pressed against the line of semen that still clung to her stomach. Heather replaced the camera with its now blanked memory card back into her purse. She pulled out Brittany’s car keys and handed them to Emily when the two staggered toward the door.

“Wait!”

With a muscular poise that belied his own exhaustion, Gregg stood from the couch. Approaching Brittany, he held the side of her face, looking directly into her eyes. “You will come to my office tomorrow morning at 10am. You will not be late. You will not tell anyone what happened here tonight.” Gregg enforced his simple commands with powerful mental surges. She could no more disobey those commands than she could decide to not have her heart beat.

Once Emily escorted the delirious Brittany out the door, he turned to Heather. He didn’t need to ask the obvious question. “It was a complete success, Gregg. Everything was right where you said it would be. Just like you planned, the sorority house’s security system wasn’t turned on, thanks to Laura. Really, it was like watching a spy movie! Rivkah picked the lock to Brittany’s room, and we carried everything we needed out. E’dan actually carried a full filing cabinet! Anyway, everything’s upstairs. I’d take you up but I think I hear E’dan and Rivkah…uh…celebrating…their successful mission!”

Gregg barely registered the words Heather was speaking. Once she said ‘success’ his vision began to tunnel. He smiled when Heather stopped talking…at least he thought she stopped talking. Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear any sound above the pounding in his ears. He closed his eyes – just for a second…nothing more than a blink, really. But when he opened them, he was staring at the ceiling. A relieved-looking Heather gently rubbing his forehead.

“You passed out.” Gregg turned his head slightly and saw Emily wringing out a washcloth in a large bowl beside her. If Emily was back, then he must have been out for ten or fifteen minutes! “You snore, you know that?” Heather’s joke masked her worry.

Emily’s sponge bath and subsequent massage was invigorating, strength flooding back into his weary muscles…all muscles but one, that is. He had just enough strength to stand and be led into the bedroom. Heather and Emily sat beside him, but rather than sleeping, they began doing some editing on the video files they’d downloaded to his laptop. As Gregg drifted in and out of sleep, he heard the sounds of his torrid fuck session with Brittany coming over the computer’s tinny speakers intermingled with similar ‘live’ sounds coming from right beside him. Apparently editing would be slow-going since the girls needed to take frequent breaks!

Laura knocked tentatively on the upstairs apartment door.

When the sorority finished their meeting, she went back to her private suite in the house to relax. Being on the leadership council had its privileges, such as not having to have a roommate. To her surprise, when she opened the door, there was a small white envelope on the floor, apparently slipped under her closed door during the meeting. Inside was a note with decidedly feminine handwriting. It simply said, “Thank you.” Taped beneath the note was a pair of house keys. The thought of staying the night amongst the sisters who had betrayed her was more than enough motivation to pack a backpack with overnight gear and high-tail it out of the house.

She’d used one of the two keys to let her into Gregg’s apartment building. She could have used the second key to get into his apartment, but decided to knock first. When the door opened, fear bubbled up inside her. It was not who she was expecting or hoping for. Taking a step backward, she looked down the hallway, debating if she should just leave or try to say something.

Luckily, Chad made the decision for her. After staring at her for several long seconds, and looking like he’d just swallowed a bug, he lifted one arm in her direction. Laura flinched and shut her eyes, waiting for the fist or the slap she knew she deserved. Instead, she felt his arm encircle her back and pull her head down onto his shoulder. When his other hand began softly stroking her long blonde hair, all holds on her emotions crumbled and she started sobbing, uncontrollably. The shame at what she’d done to him a year ago, the shame at what had happened to her tonight, the shame at putting her trust and destiny in a group of girls who were too quick to turn a blind eye to the violence inflicted upon her…it all just came crashing down.

What finally pulled her back to the here-and-now was the feeling of a third, softer hand on her arm. Lifting her head slightly, Charli looked at her, eyes filled with sadness and maybe a little hope. Laura immediately let go of Chad and dropped to her knees, hugging Charli around the waist, her head resting against the raven-haired girl’s stomach. Fresh tears poured out from her eyes, her face pressed tightly against Charli’s t-shirt. For long minutes Laura sobbed, saying over and over, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Charli gently stroked her hair, letting the once high-and-mighty blonde get it all out of her system. Charli had no more tears left, but she let her new friend vent her grief.

Chad stepped gingerly around them, giving Charli a reassuring peck on the lips as Charli held Laura in the open doorway. He went into the kitchen and put up some hot water for tea. It was going to be a long night.

Deuce pushed his chair back from his table at the coffee shop, the pages and pages of notes in his nearly illegible script staring back at him. He considered ordering another cup of tea, but what passed for tea in this country was little more than water-soaked weeds in fancy mesh bags.

“Whacha do’in mister?”

Deuce looked up from the dregs inside his mug to see the cutest little girl – no more than five or six years old tugging on his trench coat. She was wearing a little yellow summer dress, little white gloves, and black shoes. She was even carrying a red balloon. Honestly, she could have popped directly off the cover of a children’s book.

“Leave the nice man alone, Suzie,” her mother said from across the café, making sure her daughter was okay before getting back to her studies.

“Oh, she’s no bother at all. Would you mind if I did a little magic trick?” Deuce knew it was better to ask, than assume. Nothing is more dangerous than a mother who feels her cub is in danger…even if he was protected from most any harm that could befall him.

“Uh, sure. Okay.”

Deuce smiled. “Do you like magic, Suzie?” Deuce asked the wide-eyed child.

“Oh yes!”

Deuce ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, pretending to make mystical-sounding noises. His arms gestured somewhat erratically and then he stopped, suddenly. Reaching his hand behind Suzie’s head, he pulled a large snow globe out from behind her pig tails. It was larger than his hand and if an adult were watching, they’d have no idea how he could have hid it from their view.

Handing it to Suzie, she stared at it, her mouth agape with wonder. Inside the globe was a perfect replica of the coffee shop. There was the likeness of her mother sitting at a table with open books. And there was Suzie, in the same yellow dress she was currently wearing, holding the same red balloon. It was astonishing in detail with one exception. There was no Deuce.

“Thank you mister!” Suzy ran back to her mother to show her the toy she’d just been given.

‘They’re so cute at that age. But like the tiger kitten, she’ll eventually grow up, grow teeth, grow dangerous…’

Deuce picked up the pad of paper he was writing on. He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them, all his writing was gone, the pad as clean as if brand new.

‘Me and my crazy affectations…’ He walked out of the café and cinched the belt of his black trench coat across his waist. It wasn’t cold and there wasn’t any wind. Still, he turned up the collar on his coat, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked away with his head down.